{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_48889/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_48889","id":"gutenberg_48889","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/48889","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Essays, Letters & Speeches","Category: Journals","Category: Poetry","Category: Religion/Spirituality","Catholic Church -- Periodicals"],"text":"[Transcriber's Note:\n\nThis text includes characters that require UTF-8 (Unicode) file\nencoding:\n\n  \u0153 (oe ligature)\n  \u039a\u03b1\u03bb\u1f74 \u03b4\u1f72 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f21 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u0391\u1f50\u03c3\u03ba\u03af\u03c9\u03bd (Greek)\n  \u201c \u201d (curly quotes)\n  \u00b0 (temperature degree sign)\n\nIf any of these characters do not display properly or if the\napostrophes and quotation marks appear as garbage, make sure your text\nreader\u2019s \u201ccharacter set\u201d or \u201cfile encoding\u201d is set to Unicode (UTF-8).\nYou may also need to change the default font.\n\nAdditional notes are at the end of the book.]\n\n\n\n\n                                THE\n\n                          CATHOLIC WORLD.\n\n                                 A\n\n                          MONTHLY MAGAZINE\n\n                                OF\n\n                  GENERAL LITERATURE AND SCIENCE.\n\n\n\n\n                             VOL. XIV.\n                   OCTOBER, 1871, TO MARCH, 1872.\n\n\n\n\n                             NEW YORK:\n                  THE CATHOLIC PUBLICATION HOUSE,\n                          9 Warren Street.\n\n                               1872.\n\n\n\n\n                        JOHN ROSS & COMPANY,\n                     PRINTERS AND STEREOTYPERS,\n                       27 ROSE ST., NEW YORK.\n\n\n\n\n                             CONTENTS.\n\n\n  Affirmations, 682\n  Afternoon at St. Lazare, An, 683\n  Air, Travels in the, 757\n  American Catholic Bishops, Clarke\u2019s Lives of the, 562\n  Arcueil, The Martyrs of, 613\n  Association, The International, 694\n  Authority in Matters of Faith, 145\n\n  Catholic Libraries, On, 707\n  Catholicity and Pantheism, 376, 830\n  Chateau Regnier, 520\n  Christianity and Positivism, 1\n  Civilization, Egyptian, According to the Most Recent\n    Discoveries, 63\n  Clarke\u2019s Lives of the American Catholic Bishops, 562\n  Color--Its Poetry and Prose, 279\n  Cooper\u2019s An Englishman in China, 322\n  Cosmic Philosophy, The, 633\n  Craven\u2019s Fleurange, 651, 813\n\n  D\u00f6llinger Scandal, The, 248\n  Duties of the Rich in Christian Society, The, 577, 753\n\n  Egyptian Civilization According to the Most Recent Discoveries, 63\n  Elements of our Nationality, The, 91\n  Elinor\u2019s Trial, 790\n  Englishman in China, An, 322\n  Executive Document No. 37; or, Several Calumnies Refuted, 665\n\n  Faber, Dr., The Princeton Review on, 400\n  Faith, Authority in Matters of, 145\n  Fleurange, 651, 813\n  Foxvilles of Foxville, The, 604\n  _Fraction du Centre_ in the German Parliament, The, 269\n  France, Recent Events in, 289\n\n  Gambetta, M., Letter of Mgr. Dupanloup to, 849\n  Ghost Story of the Revolution, A, 261\n  God is our Aid, 364\n\n  History, The New School of, 549\n  Holy Father, On the Present Condition of the, 777\n  House of Yorke, The, 16, 158, 305, 473, 582, 738\n\n  International Association, The, 694\n  Island of Saints, The, 335\n\n  Lake George, A Week at, 78\n  La Roquette, The Place Vend\u00f4me and, 127, 233, 347\n  Lasserre\u2019s Our Lady of Lourdes, 100\n  Lateau, Louise, The Stigmata and Ecstasies of, 171\n  Late General Convention of the P. E. Church, 506\n  La Vend\u00e9e, One Christmas Eve in, 447\n  Leper of the City of Aosta, The, 767\n  Letter of Mgr. Dupanloup, Bishop of Orleans, to M. Gambetta, 849\n  Liquefaction of the Blood of St. Januarius, The, 32, 200, 391, 526\n  Lourdes, Our Lady of, 100\n  Lucas Garcia, 49, 189\n\n  Maistre\u2019s Leper of the City of Aosta, 767\n  Mammoth Cave, A Visit to, 621\n  Martyrs of Arcueil, The, 613\n  Modern Opera, 415\n\n  Nationality, The Elements of Our, 91\n  New School of History, The, 549\n\n  On Catholic Libraries, 707\n  On the Present Condition of the Holy Father, 777,\n  One Christmas Eve in La Vend\u00e9e, 447\n  Opera, Modern, 415\n  Our Lady of Lourdes, 100\n  Owen on Spiritism, 803\n\n  Pantheism, Catholicity and, 376\n  Papal Infallibility, Popular Objections to, 597\n  Philosophy, The Cosmic, 633\n  Place Vend\u00f4me, The, and La Roquette, 127, 233, 347\n  Poetry and Prose of Color, 279\n  Popular Objections to Papal Infallibility, 597\n  Positivism, Christianity and, 1\n  Princeton Review on Dr. Faber, 400\n  Protestant Episcopal Church, Late General Convention of the, 506\n  Protestant Rule of Faith, The, 488\n\n  Recent Events in France, 289\n  Religious Movement in Germany, and the _Fraction du Centre_\n    in the German Parliament, 269\n  Revolution, A Ghost Story of the, 261\n  Rich, Duties of the, 577, 753\n  Riot of the Twelfth, The, 117\n  Rome, St. Cecilia\u2019s Day in, 646\n  Rule of Faith, The Protestant, 488\n\n  St. Cecilia\u2019s Day in Rome, 646\n  St. Januarius, Liquefaction of the Blood of, 32, 200, 391, 526\n  St. Lazare, An Afternoon at, 683\n  Saints, The Island of, 335\n  Several Calumnies Refuted, 665\n  Spiritism, Owen on, 803\n  Stigmata, The, and Ecstasies of Louise Lateau, 171\n  Study of Sacred History, 421\n\n  Thoughts for the Women of the Times, 467\n  Travels in the Air, 757\n\n  Uncivil Journal, An, 721\n\n  Valentine, 214\n  Venite Adoremus, 557\n  Visit to Mammoth Cave, A, 621\n\n  Week at Lake George, A, 78\n  Who is to Educate Our Children?, 433\n  Women of Our Times, Thoughts for the, 467\n\n  Yorke, The House of, 16, 158, 305, 473, 582, 738\n\n\n                              POETRY.\n\n  Annunciation, The, 812\n\n  Bethlehem, 487\n  Broad School, The, 525\n\n  Convert, A, 30\n\n  Dante\u2019s Purgatorio (New Translation), 503\n\n  Evening Clouds, 15\n  Ever, 472\n  Epiphany, Our, 632\n\n  Lamartine\u2019s The Wayside Spring (Translation), 213\n  Last Days of Oisin, The Bard, 845\n  Legends of Oisin, The, 185, 343\n  Limitation, 414\n\n  Martyrdom of St. Agnes, The, 828\n  Memory, A, 304\n  Mountain, The, 278\n\n  New Outspoken Style, The, 596\n\n  Our Epiphany, 632\n\n  Purgatorio, Dante\u2019s (New Translation), 503\n\n  St. Agnes, The Martyrdom of, 828\n\n  True Faith, 232\n\n  Uhland\u2019s Evening Clouds (Translation), 15\n\n  Veiled, 620\n\n  Wayside Spring, The, 213\n\n\n                         NEW PUBLICATIONS.\n\n  American Home Book of In-Door Games, Amusements, and\n    Occupations, 720\n  Antidote to \u201cGates Ajar,\u201d 572\n  Arians of the Fourth Century, The, 857\n  Augustine, Aurelius, Works of, 281\n\n  Bayle\u2019s Pearl of Antioch, 719\n  Benni\u2019s Tradition of the Syriac Church of Antioch, 428\n  Beecher\u2019s Life of Jesus the Christ, 428\n  Biographical Sketch of Mother Margaret Mary Hallahan, 143\n  Brightley\u2019s Leading Cases on the Law of Elections, 431\n\n  Catholic Directory, Almanac, and Ordo, Sadliers\u2019, 1872, 720\n  Catholic Choir, Peters\u2019s, 283\n  Catholic Family Almanac, Illustrated, 284\n  Cineas; or, Rome under Nero, 429\n  Collection of Leading Cases on the Law of Elections in the\n    U. S., 431\n  Congregation of St. Paul, Sermons by the Fathers of, 576, 716\n  Critical Greek and English Concordance of the New Testament, 286\n  Curci\u2019s Taking of Rome by the Italian Army, 718\n\n  Dahlgren, Ulric, Memoir of, 859\n  Doane\u2019s Passion Play, 576\n\n  East and West Poems, 575\n  Essays Critical and Historical, 427\n\n  Florence O\u2019Neill, 718\n  Formby\u2019s Pictorial Bible and Church History Stories, 284\n  Fourfold Sovereignty of God, 427\n  Four Great Evils of the Day, 286\n\n  Gates Ajar, Antidote to, 572\n  Graduale de Tempore et de Sanctis, 287\n  Grand Demonstration in Honor of the XXVth Anniversary of the\n    Election of Pius IX., 287\n\n  Hallahan, Mother Margaret Mary, Biographical Sketch of, 143\n  Harte\u2019s East and West Poems, 575\n  Harsha\u2019s Life of John Bunyan, 287\n  Hastings and Hudson\u2019s Greek and English Concordance of the\n  New Testament, 286\n  Hewit\u2019s Light in Darkness, 282\n\n  Ignatius Loyola and the Early Jesuits, 144\n  Illustrated Catholic Family Almanac, 284\n\n  Japan in Our Day, 720\n  Johonnot\u2019s School Houses, 143\n  Julia, Life of Mother, 285\n\n  Lenten Sermons, 860\n  Letters of Mme. de S\u00e9vign\u00e9, 430\n  Letters of Lady Mary Wortley Montagu, 430\n  Life of Card. Howard, 715\n  Life of Jesus the Christ, 428\n  Life of John Bunyan, 287\n  Life of Mother Julia, 285\n  Light in Darkness, 282\n  Lord\u2019s Prophetic Imperialism, 574\n\n  Macaronic Poetry, 717\n  McCorry\u2019s Mount Benedict, 144\n  Manning\u2019s Fourfold Sovereignty of God, 42\n  Manning\u2019s Four Great Evils of the Day, 286\n  Manual of Piety, 288\n  Martyrs of the Coliseum, 288\n  Memoir of Ireland, A, 719\n  Meehan\u2019s Rise and Fall of the Irish Franciscan Monasteries, 719\n  Montagu\u2019s Letters, 430\n  Montalembert\u2019s Monks of the West, 283\n  Morgan\u2019s Macaronic Poetry, 717\n  Mount Benedict; or, The Violated Tomb, 144\n\n  Newman\u2019s Arians of the Fourth Century, 857\n  Newman\u2019s Essays Critical and Historical, 427\n  Nieremberg\u2019s Of Adoration in Spirit and Truth, 143\n\n  O\u2019Connell\u2019s Memoir of Ireland, 719\n  O\u2019Reilly\u2019s Martyrs of the Coliseum, 288\n  Of Adoration in Spirit and Truth, 143\n\n  Palmer\u2019s Life of Card. Howard, 715\n  Pearl of Antioch, The, 719\n  Peters\u2019s Catholic Choir, 283\n  Pictorial Bible and Church History Stories, 284\n  Pius IX., Grand Demonstration in Honor of the Election of, 287\n  Preston\u2019s The Vicar of Christ, 571\n  Prisoners of St. Lazare, The, 573\n  Prophetic Imperialism, 574\n\n  Rise and Fall of the Irish Franciscan Monasteries, 719\n  Rose\u2019s Ignatius Loyola and the Early Jesuits, 144\n\n  Sadliers\u2019 Catholic Directory, Almanac, and Ordo, 1872, 720\n  St. Lazare, The Prisoners of, 573\n  School-Houses, 143\n  Segneri\u2019s Lenten Sermons, 860\n  Sermons by the Fathers of the Congregation of St. Paul, 576, 716\n  S\u00e9vign\u00e9\u2019s Letters, 430\n  Smith\u2019s American Home Book, 720\n  Spouse of Christ, The, 860\n  Stewart\u2019s Florence O\u2019Neill, 718\n\n  Taking of Rome by the Italian Army, 718\n  Taylor\u2019s Japan in Our Day, 720\n  The Internationale--Communism, 859\n  Tissandier\u2019s Wonders of Water, 720\n  To and From the Passion Play, 576\n  Tradition of the Syriac Church of Antioch, 428\n\n  Vessels of the Sanctuary, The, 860\n  Vicar of Christ, The, 571\n  Villefranch\u2019s Cineas, 429\n\n  Wonders of Water, 720\n  Works of Aurelius Augustine, 281\n\n\n\n\n                                THE                                         1\n\n                          CATHOLIC WORLD.\n\n                 VOL. XIV., No. 79.--OCTOBER, 1871.\n\n     Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1871, by\n  REV. I. T. HECKER, in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at\n                         Washington, D. C.\n\n\n\n\n                  CHRISTIANITY AND POSITIVISM.[1]\n\n\nDr. McCosh had acquired a considerable reputation among Presbyterians\nin his own country and ours, by several philosophico-theological works\nhe had published, before he was invited to become the president of the\nNew Jersey College at Princeton, one of the most distinguished\nliterary institutions of the Union. It had an able president, also a\nScotsman, in Dr. Witherspoon, one of the signers of the Declaration,\nand a devoted champion of American independence, and, though a\nPresbyterian, a sturdy defender of civil and religious liberty. Dr.\nMcCosh comes to the presidency of the college with a high literary and\nphilosophical reputation, and comes under many advantages, and its\nfriends expect him to contribute much to raise still higher its\ncharacter, and place it on a level with Harvard and Yale, perhaps even\nabove them.\n\nThere is some ability and considerable knowledge displayed in the\nvolume of lectures before us, though not much originality. The author\nprofesses to take the side of Christianity against the false and\nmischievous theories of such men as Sir William Hamilton, of\nEdinburgh, J. Stuart Mill, Huxley, Darwin, Herbert Spencer, and\nothers, whom he classes as belonging to the Positivist school. We have\nevery disposition in the world to think and speak well of the volume,\nand to give it full credit for every merit it may claim. It is\ndirected against our enemy even more than against his. Positivism is\nthe most open, frank, honest, and respectable antagonist Christianity\nor Catholicity has had in modern times, and, we may add, the ablest\nand the most logical, especially as represented by avowed Positivists.\nIn fighting against us, positivism fights against our Presbyterian\ndoctor, so far as he retains any element of Catholic truth, and there\nis no good reason why his war against it should not tend as far as it\ngoes to the same end as ours. Positivism can be opposed and                 2\nChristianity defended only on Catholic ground; and so far as Dr.\nMcCosh really does either, he must assume our ground and serve in our\nranks, or at any rate be on our side; and it would be churlish in us\nto reject or underrate his services because in certain other matters\nhe is against us, or is not enrolled in our ranks.\n\nIt is certain that in these lectures, which show marks of much hard\nmental labor, the author has said many good things, and used some good\narguments; but having truth only in a mutilated form, and only his\nprivate judgment to oppose to the private judgment of Positivists, he\nhas been unable to give a full and conclusive refutation of\npositivism. As a Protestant trained in Protestant schools, he has no\nclear, well-defined catholic principles to which he can refer the\nparticular truths he advances, and the special arguments he urges for\ntheir unity and support. His book lacks unity, lacks the mental grasp\nthat comprehends in its unity and universality the whole subject,\nunder all its various aspects, or in its principle, on which it\ndepends, and which explains and justifies it. His book is a book of\nparticulars, of details, of general conclusions drawn from particular\nfacts and statements, like all Protestant books. This is not so much\nthe fault of the author perhaps as of his Protestantism, which, since\nit rejects catholicity and has nothing universal, is essentially\nillogical, and can deal only in particulars or with individual things.\nThe contents of the book are referred to no general principle, and the\nparticular conclusions drawn are of little value, because isolated,\neach standing by itself instead of being reduced to its principle and\nco-ordinated under its law. The author lacks the conception of unity\nand universality; he has particulars, but no universals--variety, but\nno identity--multiplicity, but no unity, except in words. This is a\ngreat defect, and renders his work inconclusive as an argument, and\nexceedingly tedious to the reader as well as the reviewer. This defect\nruns all through the author\u2019s philosophy. In his _Intuitions of the\nMind_, there is no unity of intuition, but a variety of isolated\nintuitions--no intuition of principle, of the universal, but simply\nintellectual apprehension of supersensible particulars, as in _The\nHuman Intellect_ of Prof. Porter, who is a far abler man than Dr.\nMcCosh.\n\nWe are utterly unable to analyze these lectures, reduce their\ndeliverances to a universal principle, which, if accepted, is decisive\nof the whole controversy they attempt to settle, or if rejected proves\nthe whole worthless. Then we complain of the author for the indignity\nhe offers to Christianity by suffering the Positivists to put it on\nthe defensive, and in attempting to prove it against positivism.\nChristianity is in possession, and is not called upon to defend her\nright till strong reasons are adduced for ousting her. Consequently,\nit is for those who would oust her to prove their case, to make good\ntheir cause. The Christian controversialist at this late day does not\nbegin with an apology or defence of Christianity, but attacks those\nwho assail her, and puts them on their defence. It is for the\nscientists, or Positivists, who oppose the Christian religion, to\nprove their positivism or science. It is enough for the Christian to\nshow that the positivism or alleged science is not itself proven, or,\nif proven, that it proves nothing against Christ and his church. Dr.\nMcCosh seems to have some suspicion of this, and occasionally attempts\nto put positivism on its defence, but he does it without laying down        3\nthe principle which justifies it; and in doing it he renders it\nuseless, by immediately running away after some pet speculation of his\nown, which gives his opponent ample opportunity to resume the\noffensive.\n\nDr. McCosh, also, more than half agrees with the Positivists, and\nconcedes that the religious society, as such, has no right to judge of\nthe bearings of the conclusions of the scientists on religion. \u201cAll\nthis shows,\u201d he says, pp. 5, 6, \u201cthat religious men _qua_\nreligious men are not to be allowed to decide for us the truths of\nscience. Conceive an \u0152cumenical Council at Rome, or an Assembly of\nDivines at Westminster, or an Episcopal Convocation at Lambeth, or a\nCongregational Council at Plymouth, or a Methodist Conference in\nConnecticut (why not say Baltimore?) taking upon it to decide for or\nagainst the discoveries of Sir Isaac Newton, or the grand doctrine\nestablished in our day of the conservation of force and the\ncorrelation of all the physical forces, on the ground of their being\nfavorable or unfavorable to religion!\u201d This concedes to the\nPositivists that science is independent of religion, and that religion\nis to be accepted or rejected as it does or does not accord with\nscience, and wholly overlooks the fact that religion is the first\nscience, and that nothing can be true, scientifically or otherwise,\nthat is contrary or unfavorable to religion. Religion is the word of\nGod, and every religious man says with the inspired apostle, \u201cLet God\nbe true, and every man a liar.\u201d\n\nDr. McCosh, of course, cannot say this, for, having no infallible\nauthority to define what is or is not religious truth or the word of\nGod, he is obliged to place religion in the category of opinions which\nmay or may not be true, and therefore to deny it as the law for all\nintelligences. Supposing God has appointed an authority, infallible\nthrough his gracious assistance, to teach all men and nations his\nreligion, or the truth he has revealed, and the law he commands all to\nobey, this authority must be competent to decide whether any alleged\nscientific discoveries are or are not favorable to religion, and must\nnecessarily have the right to decide prior to all scientific\ninvestigation. If this authority decides that this or that theory is\nunfavorable to religion, we as religious men must pronounce it false,\nand refuse to entertain it. Dr. McCosh, as a Presbyterian or\nProtestant, would have no right to say so, but the Catholic would have\nthe right, and it is his duty to say so; because religion is\nabsolutely true, and the supreme law for reason as well as for\nconscience, and what is or is not religion, the authority unerringly\ndecides for him. Nothing that is not in accordance with the teachings\nof religion can be true in science any more than in religion itself,\nthough many things may be true that are not in accordance with the\nopinions and theories held by religious men.\n\nThe moment the Christian allows that the authority is not catholic;\nthat it is limited and covers only one part of truth; and that there\nis by its side another and an independent authority, another and\nindependent order of truth, he ceases to be able to meet successfully\nthe Positivists; for truth is one, and can never be in opposition to\ntruth--that is, in opposition to itself. Religion, we concede, does\nnot teach the sciences, or the various facts with which they are\nconstructed, but it does judge and pronounce authoritatively on the\ninferences or conclusions scientific men draw from these facts, or the\nexplanations they give of them, and to decide whether they are or are       4\nnot consistent with her own teachings. If they are inconsistent with\nthe revealed word, or with what that word implies, she pronounces them\nfalse; and, if warranted by the alleged facts, she pronounces the\nalleged facts themselves to be misinterpreted, misapprehended,\nmisstated, or to be no facts. Her authority is higher than any\nreasonings of men, than the authority even of the senses, if it comes\nto that, for nothing is or can be more certain than that religion is\ntrue. We cannot as Catholics, as Christians, make the concession to\nthe Positivists the Presbyterian doctor does, that their science is an\nauthority independent of religion, and not amenable to it.\n\nDr. McCosh, we think, is unwise, in a controversy with Positivists, in\nseparating natural theology, as he calls it, from revealed theology.\nThe two are only parts of one whole, and, in point of fact, although\ndistinguishable, have never existed separately at any epoch of\nhistory. The existence of God, the immateriality of the soul, and the\nliberty of man or free-will, are provable with certainty by reason,\nand are therefore truths of philosophy, but they were not discovered\nby unassisted reason or the unassisted exercise of our natural powers\nbefore they were taught to our first parents by the Creator himself,\nand have never been held as simple natural truths, unconnected with\nsupernatural instruction or some reminiscences of such instruction.\nNatural theology, or philosophy, and revealed theology form one\nindissoluble whole, and Christianity includes both in their unity and\ncatholicity. In defending Christianity against positivism, which\ndenies both, we should defend both as a whole; because the natural is\nincomplete and unable of itself alone to satisfy the demands of\nreason, which is never sufficient for itself; and the truths necessary\nto complete it and to solve the objections to the being and providence\nof God are not obtainable by reason alone or without the light of\nrevelation. We may assert and prove miracles as a fact, but the\nobjections of Positivists to them cannot be scientifically answered\ntill we have proved that they have their law in the supernatural\norder. The inferences we draw from miracles will not be appreciated or\nallowed by men who deny the supernatural and reduce God to nature.\n\nThe author in reality has no method, but he begins by attempting to\nprove the being of God, then the existence of mind in man, and the\nreality of knowledge, and finally, in the second part, that the life\nof Christ was the life of a real personage, and proves the reality of\nhis religion. He offers only one argument to prove that God is, and\nthat is the well-known argument from design, which he bases on the\nprinciple that every effect has its cause. He does not develop this\nargument, which has been so fully done by Paley and the _Bridgewater\nTreatises_, but simply asserts its sufficiency. There are marks of\ndesign in adapting one thing to another throughout the universe, which\ncan be only the effect of the action of an intelligent designer.\nGiving this argument all possible force, it does not carry the author\nin his conclusion beyond Plato or Aristotle, neither of whom was\nproperly a theist. Plato and Aristotle both believed in an intelligent\nmind in the universe, operating on an eternal uncreated matter,\nforming all things from pre-existing materials, and arranging them in\nan artistic order. The argument from design can go no farther, and\nthis is all that is proved by Paley\u2019s illustration of the watch, which      5\nwould be no illustration at all to a mind that had no intuition or\nconception of a designer. Neither Plato nor Aristotle had any\nconception of a creator or supermundane God. Whether the intelligent\nmind has created all things from nothing, or has only formed and\ndisposed all things from pre-existing matter, as the soul of the\nworld, _anima mundi_, is what can never be determined by any\ninduction from the alleged marks of design discoverable in the\nuniverse.\n\nWe therefore hold, and have always held, that this famous argument,\nthe only one the Baconian philosophy admits, however valuable it may\nbe in proving or illustrating the attributes or perfections of God,\nwhen God is once known to exist, is inconclusive when relied on alone\nto prove that God is, or is that by which the mind first obtains the\nidea. It may serve as a corroborative argument, but of itself alone it\ncannot originate the idea in the mind, or carry one beyond an\nintelligent soul of the world, or the pantheism of Plato and\nAristotle, and of all Gentile philosophy, except the school of\nLeucippus and Democritus, followed as to physics by Epicurus--unless\nwe must also except the sceptics, Pyrrho and Sextus Empiricus. We\nthink, therefore, the author has damaged the cause of Christianity,\ninstead of serving it, by risking it on a single argument, by no means\nconclusive to his purpose. A weak and inadequate defence is worse than\nno defence at all.\n\nThe principle that every effect has a cause, on which the author bases\nhis argument, is no doubt true; but we must know that the fact is an\n_effect_ before we can infer from it that it has or has had a cause.\nCause and effect are correlative terms, which connote one another;\nbut this is no proof that this or that fact is an _effect_; and\nwe cannot pronounce it an effect unless we know that it has begun to\nexist; nor even then, unless we have the intuition of cause; and no\nintuition even of a particular cause suffices, unless we have\nintuition of a universal cause. It is not so simple a thing, then, to\npronounce a given fact an _effect_, and to conclude that there is\nbetween it and something else, the relation of cause and effect. It is\nprecisely this relation that Hume, Kant, Thomas Browne, Sir William\nHamilton, Dr. Mansel, Auguste Comte, John Stuart Mill, Huxley, Herbert\nSpencer, and all the so-called Positivists deny or relegate to the\nregion of the unknowable. Dr. McCosh does not refute them, by assuming\nand arguing from the principle; he simply begs the question.\n\nNow, we venture to tell our learned and philosophic author that his\nwhole argument for natural theology falls to the ground before a mind\nthat has no intuition of the relation of cause and effect, that is not\npreviously furnished with the knowledge of design and of a designing\ncause. Hence, from the alleged marks of design and adaptation of means\nto ends, it is impossible to infer a designer. When the watch was\npresented for the first time to the untutored savage, he looked upon\nit as a living thing, not as a piece of artificial mechanism\nconstructed by a watchmaker. He must know that it is a piece of\nartificial mechanism before he can conclude man has made it. There\nfalls under our observation no more perfect adaptation of means to\nends than the octagonal cell of the bee. Does the bee work by design\nin constructing it? Does the beaver work by design, by intelligent\ndesign, in building its dam and constructing its house? It is generally     6\nheld that the bee as well as the beaver works by instinct, or by a law\nof its nature, as does the swallow in building its nest. This proves\nthat a designer cannot be inferred from the simple facts observed in\nnature, as the Positivists maintain. This is the condemnation of the\nso-called inductive philosophy. The induction, to be valid, must be by\nvirtue of a principle already held by the mind, intuitively or\notherwise, and therefore can never of itself supply or give its\nprinciple, or by itself alone obtain its principle. God is not an\ninduction from the facts observed in nature; and the Positivists have\nshown, demonstrated so much, and have therefore shown that observation\nand induction alone can give no principle, and, therefore, end in\nnescience--the termination of the so-called _philosophie positive_.\n\nDr. McCosh is not wholly insensible to this conclusion, and seeks to\nescape it by proving that there is a mind in man endowed with the\ncapacity of knowing things as they are. But if the existence of the\nmind needs to be proved, with what can we prove it? By consciousness,\nthe author answers; but that is a sheer paralogism, for consciousness\nis simply an act of the mind, and presupposes it. God can no more be\nan induction from the facts of consciousness than from the facts of\nnature. In either case, the God induced is a generalization; in the\none case, the generalization of nature, and, in the other, the\ngeneralization of consciousness. The former usually goes by the name\nof atheism, the latter by the name of egoism.\n\nDr. McCosh very properly rejects Hamilton\u2019s and Mansel\u2019s doctrine of\nthe pure relativity of all knowledge, and Herbert Spencer\u2019s doctrine\nthat all knowledge is restricted to the knowledge of phenomena or\nappearances, though conceding that appearances are unthinkable without\na reality beyond them, but that the reality beyond them, and which\nappears in them, is itself unknowable; and maintains truly that we\nknow things themselves, both sensibles and supersensibles. We know\nthem, he contends, by intuition, or a direct looking on or beholding\nthem by the simple intellectual force of our minds. Of this we are not\nso certain, for we do not ourselves know by intuition why salt is\nbitter and sugar sweet, and we think the doctor knows things\nthemselves only in so far as he excepts their essence or substance,\nand confounds the thing with its properties, or its accidents, as say\nthe schoolmen, in which case he makes no appreciable advance on Mr.\nHerbert Spencer. I know the appearances and the sensible properties of\nbread, but I do not know its essence or substance. Has the\nPresbyterian doctor, who seems to have a holy horror of Catholicity,\ninvented a philosophy for the express purpose of combating with\napparent reason the mystery of transubstantiation, by making it\nconflict with the positive testimony of the senses and the human\nintellect?\n\nBut let that pass. The intuition the doctor recognizes is empirical\nintuition, and intuition of particular or individual things, not of\nprinciples, causes, relations. And from the knowledge of those\nindividual things, he holds that man rises by generalization and\nabstraction--that is, induction--from one degree of knowledge to\nanother, till he finally attains to the knowledge of God distinct from\nthe world, and clothes him with infinite perfections. Yet the good\ndoctor claims to be a philosopher, and enjoys a high reputation as\nsuch. None of these individual things, nor all of them together, are\nGod, or contain him; how, then, from them, supposing you know them,         7\nrise scientifically to him? and what by abstraction and generalization\nis that to which the mind attains? Only their generalization or\nabstraction, which as a creation of the mind is a nullity. He, like\nHamilton, in this would make philosophy end in nescience.\n\nWe, of course, hold that we apprehend and know things themselves, not\nphenomena merely, and as they are, not as they are not--that is, in\ntheir real relations, not to us only, but in the objective world. But\nto know things as they are, in their real objective relations, or to\nknow them at all, demands intuition of them, in their contingency or\nin their character of creatures or effects--that is to say, as\nexistences, not as independent, self-existent beings, which they are\nnot. And this is not possible without the intuition of the necessary,\nof real being, on which they depend and from which they are derived.\nWhen I say a thing is an effect, I say it has been caused, and\ntherefore, in order to say it, I must have intuition of cause; and if\nI say of a thing that it is a particular cause, I deny that it is a\nuniversal cause, which I could not do without the intuition of\nuniversal cause. So when I say of a thing it is contingent, I simply\ndeny it to be necessary being, and I could not deny a thing to be\nnecessary being if I had no intuition of necessary being. If the\nauthor means by abstracting and generalizing our knowledge of things\nor individual existence, distinguishing this ideal intuition, or the\nintuition of real necessary and universal being--what philosophers\nsometimes call necessary ideas--from the intuition of things or\ncontingent existences, along with which it is presented in thought, and\nas the necessary condition of our apprehending them, and by reflection\nand contemplation ascertaining that this ideal, necessary and\nuniversal, is really God, though not intuitively known to be God, we\ndo not object to the assertion that we rise from our knowledge of\nthings to the knowledge of God himself. What we deny is that God can\nbe concluded from the intuition or apprehension of things. We rise to\nhim from the ideal intuition, or intuition of the real and necessary,\nwhich enters the mind with the intuition of the things, and without\nwhich we never do or could have intuition of them, any more than they\ncould exist without the creative act of real and necessary being\ncreating them from nothing and sustaining them in existence; but it\nneeds to be disengaged by a mental process from the empirical\nintuition with which it is presented.\n\nThis ideal intuition is not immediate and direct intuition of God, as\nthe pseudo-ontologists contend, and which the church has condemned;\nbut is intuition under the form of necessary, universal, eternal, and\nimmutable ideas--of that which the mind, by reasoning, reflection, and\ncontemplation, proves really is God. What misleads the author and so\nmany others who use the argument he uses, is that the intuition of\nreal and necessary being, and the intuition of contingencies, are\ngiven both in the same thought, the one along with the other, and most\nminds fail to distinguish them--which is done, according to St.\nThomas, by the _intellectus agens_, in distinction from the\npassive or receptive intellect--and hence they suppose that they\nconclude the ideal intuition from the empirical intuition. This is\ndecidedly the case with Dr. McCosh. The learned doctor admits\nintuitions, but only intuitions of individual existences--what we\ncall empirical intuitions--whether causes or effects, not intuition of      8\nthe ideal; and hence his argument for the existence of God proves\nnothing, for the universal is not derivable from the particular, the\nnecessary from the contingent, nor being from existences. Had he\nrecognized that along with, as its necessary condition, the intuition\nof the particular there always is the intuition of the universal,\netc., he would have placed theology against positivism on an\nimpregnable foundation. The necessary ideas, the universal, the\neternal, the immutable, the necessary, connoted in all our thoughts,\ncannot be simply abstractions, for abstractions have no existence _a\nparte rei_, and are formed by the mind operating on the concrete\nobject of empirical intuition. As these ideas are objects of\nintuition, they are real; and if real, they are either being or\nexistences. But no existences are or can be necessary, universal,\neternal, immutable, for they depend to be on another, as is implied in\nthe very word existence, from _ex-stare_. Then they must be being,\nand identifiable in the one universal, eternal, real, and necessary\nbeing, and distinguishable from existences or things, as the creator\nfrom his creatures, the actor from the act.\n\nWe have said that the ideal intuition is not intuition of God, but of\nthat which is God; we say now that the ideal intuition is not formally\nintuition of _ens_ or being, as erroneously supposed by some to\nbe maintained by Gioberti and Dr. Brownson, but of that which is\n_ens_. The process of demonstrating that God is consists in\nidentifying, by reflection and reasoning, the necessary ideas or ideal\nintuition with real, necessary, universal, eternal, and immutable\nbeing, and real and necessary being in which they are all identified\nwith God. This process is demonstration, not intuition. When I say, in\nthe syllogism, the conclusion follows necessarily from the premises, I\nhave intuition of the necessary, else I could not say it; but I have\nnot intuition of the fact that the necessary is being, far less that\nit is God. This is known only by reflection and reasoning, disengaging\nthe ideal from the empirical. The idea must be real, or there could be\nno intuition of it, but if real, it must be being; if being, it must\nbe real and necessary being; and real and necessary being is God. So\nof all the other necessary ideas. As the intuition is of both the\nideal or necessary and the contingent in its principle, and in their\nreal relation, it gives the principles of a complete demonstration of\nthe being of God as creator, and of the universe as the effect of his\ncreative act, and therefore of the complete refutation of pantheism.\nThe vice of Dr. McCosh\u2019s argument is that it proceeds on the denial of\nideal intuition, and the assumption that being, God, is obtainable by\ngeneralization and abstraction from the individual things given in\nempirical intuition. It is not obtained by reflection from them, but\nfrom the ideal intuition, never separable from the empirical.\n\nThis process of proving that God is may be called the ideal process,\nor the argument from universal and necessary ideas intuitively given.\nIt is not _a priori_, because the ideal is held by intuition; nor\nis it an argument from innate ideas, as Descartes held; nor--since\nreally objective, and present to the mind--is it an argument from the\nprimitive beliefs or constituent principles of human nature, as Dr.\nReid and the Scottish school maintained, and which is only another\nform of the Cartesian doctrine of innate ideas; or an argument drawn\nfrom our own _fonds_, as Leibnitz imagined, or from the _a priori_          9\ncognitions or necessary forms of the intellect, as Kant held, and\nwhich is only the doctrine of the Scottish school of Reid and Stewart\ndifferently stated; but from principles or data really presented in\nintuition, and along with the empirical intuition of things. It\nplaces, therefore, the being of God on as firm a basis and renders it\nas certain to the understanding as our own existence, or as any fact\nwhatever of which the human mind has cognizance; indeed, renders it\nabsolutely certain and undeniable. But while we say this, and while we\nmaintain that the ideal intuition is given along with the empirical\nintuition, with which our author confounds it, and from which\nphilosophy or natural theology disengages it, we by no means believe\nthat the race is indebted to this ideal or metaphysical process--which\nis too difficult not only for the Positivists, but for their great\nopponent, Dr. McCosh--for the origin of their belief in God. All ages\nand nations, even the most barbarous and savage tribes, have some sort\nof belief in God, some religious notions which imply his existence;\nand, hovering above the various Eastern and Western mythologies, we\nfind the belief in one God or the divine unity, though neglected or\nrejected for the worship of inferior gods or demons, or the\nelements--that is, the worship of creatures, which is idolatry, since\nworshipped as God. The ignorant savage, but a grade above the beasts,\nhas never risen to the conception of God or of the Great Spirit from\nthe contemplation of nature, nor has he attained to religious\nconceptions by a law of his nature or by instinct, as the bee\nconstructs its cell or the beaver its dam.\n\nIt is very true, nothing more true than that \u201cthe heavens show forth\nthe glory of God, and the firmament declareth the work of his hands,\u201d\nbut to him only who has the idea of God or already believes that he\nis. Nothing more true than God can be traced in all his works, or that\n\u201cthe invisible things of him, even his eternal power and divinity, are\nclearly seen from the creation of the world, being understood by the\nthings that are made,\u201d but only by those who have already learned that\nhe is, are intent on answering the question, _Quid est Deus?_ not\nthe question, _An sit Deus?_ Hence we so far agree with the\ntraditionalist, not indeed that the existence of God cannot be proved\nby reason prior to faith, but that, as a fact, God revealed himself to\nman before his expulsion from the garden; and the belief, clear and\ndistinct or dim and confused, in the divine being, universally\ndiffused among all races and conditions of men, originated in\nrevelation and is due to the tradition, pure or impure, in its\nintegrity or mutilated and corrupted, of the primitive revelation made\nby God himself to man. In this way the fact of the universality of the\nbelief in some form is a valid argument for the truth of the belief,\nand we thus obtain a historical argument to corroborate the already\nconclusive ideal or metaphysical argument, the principles of which we\nhave given.\n\nWe bear willing testimony to the good-will and laudable intention of\nour author, but we cannot regard him as able, with his mutilated\ntheology and his imperfect and rather superficial philosophy--though\nless superficial than the philosophy generally in vogue among British\nand American Protestants--to carry on a successful war against the\nPositivists. We are almost tempted to say to him:\n\n  Non tali auxilio nec defensoribus istis\n  Tempus eget.\n\nHe is too near of kin to the Positivists themselves, and adopts too        10\nmany of their principles and conclusions, to be able to battle\neffectively against them. No doubt he urges much that is true against\nthem, but his arguments, as far as effective, are inconsistent with\nhis position as a Protestant, and are borrowed from Catholicity, or\nfrom what he has retained from Catholic instruction and Catholic\ntradition, not from his Protestantism. Having no authority but his own\nprivate interpretation of the Scriptures to define what is or is not\nChristianity, he knows not how much or how little he must defend\nagainst the Positivists, or how much or how little he is free to\nconcede to them. He practically concedes to them the Creator. He\ndefends God as the efficient cause, indeed, but not as Creator,\nproducing all things by his word from nothing. He would seem to hold\nit enough to defend him as the organizer and disposer of materials\nalready furnished to his hand. God does not seem to him to be his own\n_causa materialis_. He works on a pre-existing matter. He constructs,\nthe author concedes, the existing worlds out of \u201cstar-dust,\u201d or\ndisintegrated stars, without telling us who made the stars that have\ndissolved and turned to dust, and without bearing in mind, or without\nknowing, that Christianity teaches us that \u201cin the beginning God\n_created_ the heavens and the earth,\u201d and therefore could not have\nformed them out of \u201cstar-dust\u201d or any other material.\n\nThe Protestant divine accepts and defends Darwin\u2019s theory of the\norigin of species by \u201cnatural selection,\u201d though he does not believe\nthat it applies universally, or that man has been developed from the\nape or the tadpole. He denies that Huxley\u2019s protoplasm can be\ndeveloped from protein, or life from dead matter; maintains that all\nlife proceeds from a living organism, that the plant can spring only\nfrom a seed, and the animal only from a living cell or germ; and yet\nconcedes that some of the lower forms of organic life may spring or\nmay have sprung from spontaneous generation, and even goes so far as\nto tell us that some of the most eminent of the fathers held or\nconceded as much. What becomes, then, of the assertion that life\ncannot be evolved from dead matter? He would seem to hold or to\nconcede that man lived, for an indefinite time, a purely animal life,\nbefore the Almighty breathed into his nostrils and he became a\nspiritual man, and quotes to prove it St. Paul\u2019s assertion that \u201cnot\nfirst that which is spiritual, but that which is animal; afterwards\nthat which is spiritual\u201d (1 Cor. xv. 46). He seems, in fact, ready to\nconcede any and everything except the intelligent Mind recognized by\nPlato and Aristotle, that has arranged all things according to a\npreconceived plan, and throughout the whole adapted means to ends. He\ninsists on efficient causes and final causes, but hardly on God as the\n_causa causarum_ or as the _causa finalis_ of all particular final\ncauses.\n\nThroughout, as we have already remarked, there is a want of unity and\nuniversality in his philosophy, as there necessarily must be in his\nProtestant theology, and a sad lack of logical consistency and order,\nor co-ordination. His world is a chaos, as is and must be the\nProtestant world. Herbert Spencer undertakes to explain the universe\nwithout God, or, what is the same thing, with an absolutely unknowable\nGod, which is of course an impossibility; but he has a far profounder\nintellect and a far more logical mind than Dr. McCosh. He is\nheaven-wide from the truth, yet nearer to it than his Presbyterian\ncritic. His logic is good; his principles being granted, his               11\nconclusions, though absurd, cannot be denied. His error lies in his\npremises, and, if you correct them, your work is done. He will correct\nall details, and arrive at just conclusions without further\nassistance. But Dr. McCosh is one who, however much he may talk about\nthem, never reduces his doctrines to their generic principles, or\nreasons from principles. He is a genuine Protestant, and cannot be\nrefuted in refuting his principles, which vary with the exigencies of\nhis argument, and are really no principles at all, but must be refuted\nin detail; and when you have convinced him twice three are six, you\nhave still to prove that three times two are also six.\n\nNow, such a man--and he is, perhaps, above the average of Presbyterian\ndivines--is the last man in the world to attempt the refutation of\npositivism. No Protestant can do it. Indeed, all the avowed\nPositivists we have known regard Protestant Christianity as too\ninsignificant a matter to be counted. It is too vague and fluctuating,\ntoo uncertain and indefinite, too unsubstantial and intangible, too\nunsystematic and illogical, to command the least respect from them.\nThey see at a glance that it is too little to be a religion and too\nmuch to be no-religion. It cannot, with its half affirmations and its\nwhole denials, stand a moment before an intelligent Positivist who has\na scientific cast of mind. The Positivist rejects the church, of\ncourse, but he respects Catholicity as a logical system, consistent\nwith itself, coherent in all its parts, and for him there is no _via\nmedia_ between it and positivism. If he were not a Positivist, he\nsays openly, he would be a Catholic, by no means a Protestant, which\nhe looks upon as neither one thing nor another; and we respond that,\ncould we cease to be a Catholic, we should be a Positivist, for to a\nlogical mind there is no medium between the church and atheism. The\nmiddle systems, as Protestantism, Rationalism, Deism, etc., are\ndivided against themselves, and cannot stand, any more than a house\ndivided against itself. Their denials vitiate their affirmations and\ntheir affirmations vitiate their denials. They are all too much or too\nlittle.\n\nThe Positivists reject for what they call the scientific age both\ntheology and metaphysics. They believe in the progress of the race,\nand indeed in all races, as does Dr. McCosh. They distinguish in the\nhistory of the human race or of human progress three epochs or\nstages--first, the theological; second, the metaphysical; and third,\nthe scientific. Theology and metaphysics each in its epoch were true\nand good, and served the progress of man and society. They have now\npassed away, and the race is now entering the scientific age, which is\nthe final stage, though not to last forever; for when the field of\nscience is exhausted, and all it yields is harvested, the race will\nexpire, and the world come to an end, as having no more work to do. It\nwill be seen there is here a remarkable difference between the real\nPositivists, or believers in Auguste Comte, and our author and his\nProtestant brethren. The Positivists never calumniate the past, but\nseek to appreciate its services to humanity, to acknowledge the good\nit did, and to bury it with honor, as the children of the New\nDispensation did the Old, when it had lived its day. One of the finest\nappreciations from the point of view of humanity of the services of\nthe medi\u00e6val monks we have ever read is from the pen of M. E. Littr\u00e9,\nthe chief of the French Positivists, and one of the most learned men\nof France. It said not all a Catholic would say, but scarcely a word       12\nthat could grate on a Catholic ear. Dr. McCosh also believes in\nprogress, in the progress of our species, and, for aught we know, in\nthe progress of all species and genera, and that we outgrow the past;\nbut he takes pleasure only in calumniating it, and like a bad son\ncurses the mother that bore him. Because he has outgrown his nurse, he\ncontends the nurse was of no use in his childhood, was a great injury,\nand it would have been much better to leave him to himself, to toddle\nabout at will, and toddle into the fire or the cistern, as he saw\nproper.\n\nNow, we think, if one believes in the progress of the species or the\nperfectibility of man by development or by natural agencies, the\nPositivist doctrine is much the most reasonable as well as far the\nmost amiable. Its effect, too, is far better. We--we speak\npersonally--owed much to the doctrine, which we borrowed not from\nComte, but from Comte\u2019s master, Saint-Simon, the influence of which,\nunder the grace of God, disposed us to return to the old church. It\nsoftened the animosity, the bitter hatred, toward the past which we\nhad inherited from our Protestant education, and enabled us to study\nit with calm and gentle feelings, even with gratitude and respect, and\ndisposed us to view it with impartiality and to appreciate it with\njustice. Studying the past, and especially the old church which we had\ncomplacently supposed the race had outgrown as the man has outgrown\nthe bib and tucker of his childhood, in this new and better mood, we\nsoon discovered that there was much more in the past than we had ever\ndreamed of, and that it was abundantly able to teach us much more than\nwe or any of our Protestant contemporaries supposed; and we were not\nlong in beginning to doubt if we had really outgrown it, nor in\nbecoming convinced that, instead of outgrowing it, we had fallen below\nit; that the old church, the central institution of the world, was as\nneedful to us now as in the beginning; and that, in comparison with\nthe full noonday light which beamed from her divine countenance, the\nlight in which we had hitherto walked, or stumbled, rather, was but a\nfading twilight, nay, midnight darkness.\n\nOf course we differ far more from positivism than does Dr. McCosh, but\nwe can as Catholics better discriminate than he what is true and just\nin them, and better understand and refute their errors or false\nprinciples, because we have the whole truth to oppose to them, not\nmerely certain fragments or disfigured aspects of truth. It is only\nCatholics who can really set right the class of men Dr. McCosh wars\nagainst. Protestants cannot do it. When Theodore Parker published his\n_Discourse of Matters pertaining to Religion_, we had not--we speak\npersonally again--outgrown the Protestantism in which we had been\ntrained. We set about refuting him, and we saw at once we could not do\nit on Protestant grounds, and we planted ourselves on Catholic ground,\nas far as we then knew it, and our refutation was a total failure\nexcept so far as we opposed to the _Discourse_ the principles of the\nCatholic Church. Dr. McCosh has tried his hand in the volume before us\nagainst Theodore Parker and the Free Religionists, and with no success\nsave so far as he abandons his Protestantism and quietly appropriates\nthe arguments of Catholics, to which he has no more right than he has\nto his neighbor\u2019s horse. It was hardly generous in the learned doctor,\nwhile using their arguments--and they were the only arguments that\navailed him anything--to turn upon Catholics and twit them of              13\n\u201cignorance and superstition.\u201d Was he afraid that people might discover\nthe source whence he drew the small stock of wisdom and truth he\ndisplayed?\n\nWe might have made Dr. McCosh\u2019s lectures the occasion of presenting a\nformal refutation of positivism, but we had already taken up from time\nto time the false principles, the errors and untenable theories and\nhypotheses, which his lectures treat, and refuted them, so far as they\nare hostile to Christianity, far more effectively, in our judgment,\nthan he has done or could do. He may be more deeply versed in the\nerrors and absurd hypotheses of the false scientists of the day, who\nare laboring to explain and account for the universe without creation\nand Providence, than we are; but we have not found in his volume\nanything of any value which we have not ourselves already said, and\nsaid too, perhaps, in a style more easily understood than his, and in\nbetter English than he ordinarily uses. Our readers could learn\nnothing of positivism from him, and just as little of the principles\nand reasonings that Christianity is able to oppose to it. He writes as\na man who measures the known by what he himself knows, and is now and\nthen out in his measurement.\n\nDr. McCosh, also, adopts rather too depreciatory a tone in speaking of\nour countrymen, especially considering that he has but just come among\nus, and knows us at best only imperfectly. We own it was no striking\nindication of American intelligence and judgment the importation of\nhim to preside over one of the best Protestant American institutions\nof learning and science; but men often loom up larger at a distance\nthan they are when seen close by, and there is no country in which\nbubble reputations from abroad more speedily collapse than our own.\nThe doctor will find, when he has lived longer among us, and becomes\nbetter acquainted with us, that if England is nearer Germany, German\nspeculations are known to Americans and appreciated by them at least\nas soon as they are by Englishmen or Scotsmen. Kant, Fichte,\nSchelling, Hegel, were known to American scholars before there was\nmuch knowledge of them in England or Scotland. The English and Scotch\nare now just becoming acquainted with and are carried away by theories\nand speculations in philosophy which had been examined here, and\nexploded more than thirty years ago by Americans. The doctor\nunderrates the scholarship and intelligence even of his American\nPresbyterian friends, and there are scholars, men of thought, of\nscience, general intelligence, in the country many degrees above\nPresbyterians, respectable as they are. Presbyterians are not by any\nmeans the whole American people, nor the most advanced portion of\nthem. They are really behind the Congregationalists, to say nothing of\n\u201cthe ignorant and superstitious\u201d Catholics, whose scholars are in\nscience and learning, philosophy, theology, especially in the history\nof the church, it is no boast to say, superior to either, and know and\nunderstand better the movements of the age, intellectual, moral,\nsocial, and political theories, crotchets, and tendencies of the\npresent, than any other class of American citizens. It takes more than\na Dr. McCosh, although for a time a professor in Belfast, Ireland, to\nteach them more than they already know.\n\nWe pass over the second part of the lectures, devoted to Apologetics,\nas of no importance. One needs to know what Christianity is, and to\nhave clearly in his mind the entire Christian plan, before one can\nsuccessfully defend it against the class of persons the author calls       14\nPositivists. This is more than the author knows, or as a Protestant\ncan know. His Christianity is an indefinite, vague, variable, and\nuncertain opinion, and he has no conception at all of the Christian\nplan, or what St. Paul calls \u201cthe new creation.\u201d No doubt the miracles\nare provable by simple historical testimony by and to one who knows\nnothing of the Christian plan, or of its supernatural character; but\nto the unbelievers of our time it is necessary to set forth, in its\nunity and catholicity, the Christian _schema_, if we may be allowed\nthe term, and to show that miracles themselves have their reason or\nlaw in the divine plan or decree, and are no more anomalies, in\nrelation to that plan or decree, or _ex parte Dei_, than are earthquakes\nand volcanoes. It is only in this way we can satisfy the demand for\norder and regularity. The unbeliever may not be able to resist the\ntestimony which proves the miracle a fact, but till we show him that\nin a miracle the natural laws are not violated, or that nature does\nnot go out of her course, as he imagines, we cannot satisfy him that\nhe can yield to the miracle without surrendering his natural reason,\nand the law and order of the universe.\n\nNow, this the Protestant cannot do; and though he might adduce the\nhistorical evidences of Christianity satisfactory to a simpler age, or\nto minds, though steeped in error, yet retaining from tradition a full\nbelief in the reality of a supernatural order, he cannot as a\nProtestant do it to minds that deny that there is or can be anything\nabove nature, and that refuse utterly to admit the supernatural order,\nwhich the miracles manifest, or that reject miracles, not because the\ntestimony is insufficient, but because they cannot be admitted without\nadmitting the reality of the supernatural. The prejudice against the\nsupernatural must be removed as the preliminary work, and this can be\ndone only by presenting Christianity as a whole in its unity and\ncatholicity, and showing that, according to it, the supernatural or\nChristian order enters into the original decree of God, and is\nnecessary to complete what is initial in the cosmos, or to perfect the\nnatural order and to enable it to fulfil the purpose for which it\nexists, or realize its destiny or final cause, in which is its\nbeatitude or supreme good. This done, the prejudice against the\nsupernatural is removed, miracles are seen to be in the order, not\nindeed of nature, as Carlyle pretends, but in the order of the\nsupernatural, and demanding only ordinary historical testimony to be\nproved, and consequently Hume\u2019s famous argument against miracles,\nrefuted by no Protestant that has protested against it, shown to have\nno force.\n\nNow, this requires a profound knowledge of Christianity, which is not\nattainable by private judgment from the Scriptures, or outside of the\ninfallible authority of the church with which the revelation of God,\nthe revealed word, is deposited as its guardian and interpreter. M.\nMigne, indeed, admits some treatises written by Protestants into his\ncollection of works he has published under the title of _Evangelical\nDemonstration_, which are not without their merit, but are valuable\nonly on certain points, and on those only so far as they rest on\nCatholic principles and use Catholic arguments. Christianity being\nsupernatural, a revelation of the supernatural, it, of course, while\naddressed to natural reason, cannot be determined or defined by\nnatural reason, and can be determined or defined, preserved or             15\npresented, in its purity and integrity, only by an authority\nsupernaturally instituted and assisted for that very purpose. Even\nwhat the author calls natural theology, since it is only initial, like\nthe cosmos, is incomplete, and, though not above natural reason, needs\nthe supernatural to fulfil it, and therefore the supervision and\ncontrol of the same supernaturally instituted and assisted authority\nto preserve it from error, from a false development, or from assuming\na false direction, as we see continually occurring with those who have\nnot such an authority for guide and monitor. Hence, even in matters\nnot above the province of natural reason, natural reason is not a\nsufficient guide, or else whence come those errors of the Positivists\nin the purely scientific order the learned doctor combats with so many\nwords, if not thoughts--with so many assertions, if not arguments?\n\nHence, since Protestants have no such authority, and make it their\ncapital point to deny that anybody has it, it follows that they are\nunable to present any authoritative statement, or any statement at\nall which an unbeliever is bound to respect, of what Christianity\nreally is, or what is the authentic meaning of the term. They can give\nonly their private views or opinions of what it is, and these the\nunbeliever is not bound to place in any respect above his own,\nespecially since they vary with every Protestant sect, and, we may\nalmost say, with every individual Protestant who thinks enough to have\nan opinion of any sort. Even if they borrow Catholic traditions,\nCatholic principles, and Catholic doctrines and definitions, these in\ntheir hands lose their authoritative character, and become simply\nopinions resting on private reason. They can present as Christianity\nnothing authentic to be defended by the Christian, or to be accepted\nor rejected by the unbeliever. Clearly, then, Protestants are in no\ncondition to manage apologetics with acute, scientific, and logical\nunbelievers; and if we wanted any proof of it we could find it, and in\nabundance, in the volume before us.\n\n     [1] _Christianity and Positivism._ A Series of Lectures to\n     the Times, on Natural Theology and Apologetics, delivered in\n     New York, January 16 to March 20, 1871, on the \u201cEly\n     Foundation\u201d of the Union Theological Seminary. By James\n     McCosh, D.D., LL.D., President of the College of New Jersey,\n     Princeton. New York. Carter & Brothers. 1871. 16mo, pp. 369.\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n                          EVENING CLOUDS.\n\n              A TRANSLATION OF UHLAND\u2019s \u201cABENDWETTER.\u201d\n\n\n                I see the clouds at eventide\n                All in the sunset floating wide,\n                Clouds now in gold and purple dyed\n                    That hung so dark and hoary:\n\n                And my dreaming heart says, Wait!\n                A sunset comes, though come it late,\n                That shall life\u2019s shadows dissipate,\n                    Light up its clouds in glory.\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n                        THE HOUSE OF YORKE.                                16\n\n\n                            CHAPTER XIV.\n\n                         BREAKING THE ICE.\n\n\nShortly after Mr. Rowan\u2019s baptism, a miniature avalanche of letters\nreached the Yorke family. Mrs. Rowan-Williams wrote to Edith, in a\nvery scrawly hand, in lines that sloped down, in a depressing manner,\ntoward the southeastern corner of the page: \u201cDo come and make me a\nvisit, now that Dick is at home. You have no idea how handsome, and\ngood, and smart he is. Mr. Williams thinks the world of him; and as to\nEllen--well, it wouldn\u2019t become me to say what I think. But it\u2019s of no\nuse for her to try. Now, do come. This is the twentieth time I have\nasked you. We will go everywhere, see all that is worth seeing, and\nyou shall be waited on like a lady, as you are.\n\n\u201cSo the old clay bank has slipped down again, and the bushes have\ntumbled into the mud, and the men have piled their lumber over the\nashes of my poor home. O Edith! my heart is buried under those boards.\nThank you, dear, for going to see it for me.\u201d\n\nDick wrote: \u201cWhich is Mohammed, and which is the mountain? I must see\nyou, and if you cannot come here, I shall go to Seaton, though that\nwould not be easy for me to do now. Besides, I want you to see your\nnamesake. I have not long to stay, for the ship is about ready to\nstart, and we take our cargo in at New York. It would be almost like a\nsoldier deserting his army on the eve of battle for me to go away now.\nDo come if you can. It seems to me that you must wish to.\u201d\n\nThis young man, we may remark, has got quite beyond the model\nletter-writer and the practice of penmanship. He writes quite in his\nown way, and is a very creditable writer, too. He has also a fair\neducation, and can converse more intelligently on most subjects of\ngeneral interest than many a young man for whom education has done its\nbest. When Dick Rowan spoke, he said something, and one never heard\nfrom his lips inanities, meanness, nor malice. Neither did he say much\nof such things, even in condemnation. He looked on them with a sort of\nwonder, a flitting expression of disgust, then forgot all about them.\nHis time had been too much occupied, his mind too busy for trifling.\nHe had studied constantly and methodically, and the little library in\nhis cabin on board ship was a treasury of science, art, and\n_belles-lettres_. So far as it went, it was the library of a man\nof cultivated mind. His life, too, had educated him, and been a\nperpetual commentary on, or illustration or refutation of, his books.\nThe phenomena of the sea he had studied not merely as a sailor, but as\na student of natural history. Whatever culture can be derived from the\nintelligent visiting of foreign countries, without going into society\nthere, that he had. He had not spent his time about wharves, and\nships, and sailors\u2019 boarding-houses. Aside from his own tastes, he\nnever forgot that he was aspiring toward a girl who, if she should\nvisit these lands, would walk in palaces. Therefore, whatever was          17\nfamous in nature or art in those places, he sought and examined. Many\na traveller who fancied himself perfectly cultivated brought away less\npleasant and valuable information than this sailor from the cities\nthey had both visited. Moreover, Dick had studied hard to acquire\nsomething of the language of every port he stopped at, and was already\nable to speak French and Italian with ease, if not with elegance. The\nelegance he did his best to improve by reading the best authors in\nthose languages, and by a few lessons in pronunciation, when he could\nfind time. Therefore, Miss Edith Yorke\u2019s friend and correspondent was\nby no means one whom she had reason to be ashamed of.\n\nBut the Rowans were not the only ones who insisted on Edith\u2019s visiting\nBoston at this time. Miss Clinton dictated a letter to Mr. Yorke, and\nCarl, suppressing his laughter, wrote it: \u201cI have sent three times for\nthat girl, and this is my last invitation to her. Why is she not\nallowed to come? Has she nothing to wear? I enclose a check for a gown\nand a pair of shoes. When she reaches here, I will give her what she\nmay need to make her decent. Or is it that Amy Yorke is jealous\nbecause her own daughters are not invited? If one of them must come as\ncompany for Edith, I will pay her passage up, but I don\u2019t want her\nhere. She can go to Hester\u2019s or Alice Mills\u2019s. Melicent has too\nridiculous an idea of her own consequence, and Clara is too sharp and\nimpudent. Bird has read me her book, and I think it a very\ndisagreeable book. She had better learn to cook and mend her\nstockings, and let writing alone.\u201d\n\n\u201cHave you finished?\u201d the old lady asked, as Carl, with pen suspended,\nlooked up from his writing.\n\n\u201cYes!\u201d\n\n\u201cThen sign my name.\u201d\n\n\u201cShall I write \u2018yours respectfully\u2019 or \u2018yours affectionately\u2019?\u201d Carl\nasked, with perfect gravity.\n\n\u201cNeither!\u201d she replied curtly. \u201cSign my name without any compliment.\u201d\n\n\u201cMay I add a few lines for myself?\u201d the young man asked, when he had\nsigned the name as directed. \u201cThere is a whole page left.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes.\u201d The answer was given very softly, and a smile of singular\nsweetness flitted across the old lady\u2019s face as she looked at the\nwriter. Miss Clinton was very fond of Carl, in a tyrannical,\ntormenting, selfish way, and liked nothing so much as to have him ask\nfavors of her.\n\nHe wrote rapidly a few minutes, and was about closing the letter, when\nshe stopped him. \u201cRead me what you have written,\u201d she said.\n\nCarl blushed slightly, and hesitated. \u201cIt was not written to read to\nyou,\u201d he answered.\n\n\u201cNo matter, it will be all the more interesting,\u201d she persisted. \u201cRead\nit! You read mine.\u201d\n\nCarl hesitated yet a moment longer, then, casting his eyes up to the\nceiling, read, as if he saw it written, in the painting there, a\npreposterous eulogy of Miss Clinton, with a minute account of her\ncat\u2019s health.\n\n\u201cI won\u2019t have it!\u201d she cried out. \u201cRead what you have written there,\nor give it to me, and Bird shall come and read it. If you were a\ndecent writer, I should have eyes enough left to read it myself.\u201d\n\nCarl dropped his laughing manner. \u201cMiss Bird will write a letter for\nyou,\u201d he said, and was about holding the one he had in the flame of a\ntaper, when she stopped him. \u201cOh! send it as it is, since you are so\nstubborn; though I haven\u2019t a doubt that you have written the most          18\ndreadful things of me.\u201d\n\nThe Yorkes were highly amused by this letter. \u201cYou see, Edith, she is\na dragon,\u201d her uncle said. \u201cYou will have to carry yourself very\ngingerly.\u201d\n\n\u201cI am not sure that is the best way to keep the peace with her,\u201d Mrs.\nYorke remarked. \u201cIt would do with some, but she grows more overbearing\nwith indulgence. If she were touched by sweetness and submission, it\nwould be different. I have thought of late years that such persons are\nbenefited by a firm resistance.\u201d\n\nClara also wrote: \u201cLet mamma come with Edith, and stay at my house, of\ncourse. It is really a shame that she has never visited me in the city\nyet. Come right away, and we will all go back to Seaton together. You\nshould come for poor Carl\u2019s sake, to cheer him up a little, if for\nnothing else, for he must lead a miserable life with that awful old\nwoman. You would not have believed he could be so patient. Indeed, he\nwould have left long ago, if it had not been for the hope of bringing\nyou all back here again. If he were the only one in question, he would\nnot stay a day.\u201d\n\nMiss Mills also wrote in the same strain, and the result of it all was\nthat the invitations were accepted, with a difference. \u201cI will stop at\nMiss Clinton\u2019s, since you think it better,\u201d Edith said to her aunt.\n\u201cBut I must see a good deal of the Rowans.\u201d\n\n\u201cCertainly, dear,\u201d Mrs. Yorke replied. \u201cBut say as little as possible\nof the Rowans to Miss Clinton. It will only make her disagreeable.\nHester will be happy to see the young man and his mother, and since he\nis a Catholic, I should think that Alice might be civil to him.\u201d\n\nHer invitation accepted, Miss Clinton began to look at the dark side.\n\u201cAre you sure that the girl is not very green, Carl,\u201d she asked. \u201cI\ndetest country manners.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! she is very green--very!\u201d was the reply.\n\nCarl sat looking out into the garden, unconscious that his companion\nwas observing him curiously.\n\n\u201cAre you in love with that girl?\u201d she asked after a moment.\n\nBold and hardened as she was, she started and shrank at the glance he\ngave her. No words could have been more haughty and repelling.\n\n\u201cWell,\u201d she said pettishly, \u201cyou need not look daggers at me, if the\nquestion is not to your liking. You are not obliged to answer it.\u201d\n\nHe looked out the window again, and said nothing. \u201cShe shall learn to\nkeep her claws off me,\u201d he thought.\n\nNo one but himself knew what a price Carl Yorke was paying for his\nexpected inheritance. The ceaseless irritation and annoyance, the\nenforced giving up of his studies, and those literary labors which now\nseemed to him his vocation, and the constant confinement, were almost\nmore than he could bear. But one thought supported him, and that was\nthat he should some day be able to restore his family to their lost\nhome, and to pursue those plans of his own which their reverses had\ninterrupted.\n\nHe was also, not quite unconsciously, gaining something better than\ngold. He was seeing all the deformity of selfishness, and the\nunloveliness of that wit whose chief power is to wound. In asking the\nbitter questions, What is this woman living for? what good does her\nlife do the world? echo had repeated the same questions in his own\nsoul--What are you living for? what good does the world derive from        19\nyour being in it? What in him and in others had been vices or faults,\nveiled with a certain decorum so as to look almost like virtues, in\nthis woman\u2019s character were stripped of the veil, and showed in all\ntheir native hatefulness. Here, too, were free-thinking and atheism\n_au naturel_, without the crown on their brows, the lustre he had\nfancied their faces radiated, and without their airy grace. He saw a\nscoffer, and it was as though he saw a devil. He had not the\nconsolation of thinking her really worse than himself, for he could\nnot shut his eyes to the fact that the difference between them had\nbeen in manner, not in essence. He had shown more good taste and\ndelicacy, that was all.\n\n\u201cAfter all,\u201d he thought, as he sat there that day, looking out the\nwindow, \u201chowever it may be with men, women need religion. I would not\ntrust a woman without it. I will not retract my saying that religion\nis a strait-jacket, and intended only for those who cannot stand\nstraight without it, but I begin to think that we are all of us\npartial lunatics.\u201d\n\n\u201cI have heard say that parlor means a place to parle in,\u201d remarked\nMiss Clinton presently.\n\n\u201cThe orioles are building in this tree,\u201d Carl said, quite as though\nnothing unpleasant had happened.\n\nShe tossed her head. What did she care about orioles?\n\n\u201cHow blood will show, both good blood and bad,\u201d she said with the air\nof one who has just discovered a great truth. \u201cWealth, associates,\ntravel, occupations, education, neither will efface the signature. The\noriginal stamp remains in spite of circumstances.\u201d\n\nAt the beginning, Carl scented battle, but he assumed an air of great\ncheerfulness. \u201cYou are quite right,\u201d he said. \u201cThat great _parvenu_,\nAdam, and that still more frightfully new person, his wife, have left\nan indelible stain upon their progeny. We can see it to this day,\nfaintly in some, more strongly marked in others. And, on the other\nhand, that prince of the _ancien r\u00e9gime_, Lucifer--\u201d\n\n\u201cNonsense!\u201d interrupted Miss Clinton. \u201cI was going to say, if you can\nstop your most disagreeable and disrespectful mocking--I was going to\nsay that you have some of the Bohemian lounging ways of your father,\nthough you never saw him, and though you have been under the training\nof Charles Yorke since your babyhood.\u201d\n\n\u201cDo you think I have my father\u2019s ways?\u201d Carl asked, with an air of\ndelight. \u201cHow glad I am! No one else ever told me so, and I was afraid\nI might be all Arnold. My mother is, of course, an angelic lady; but\nsome of her family have had traits which--really--well, I should a\nlittle rather not inherit. And so you think me like my father? Thank\nyou!\u201d\n\n\u201cThe Arnolds and the Clintons, sir, are families from whom you may be\nproud to inherit anything!\u201d the old lady cried, beating the table with\nher fan. \u201cThey were among the _\u00e9lite_ of Boston and New York when\nthis country was a British province. We had colonial governors and\njudges, sir, when your father\u2019s people were painting signs and\ndoor-steps. It is rather late in the day, young man, for you to have\nto be told what my descent is!\u201d\n\nShe stopped, choking with anger.\n\nThe young man seemed to be much interested in this recital. \u201cIndeed!\u201d\nhe said, \u201cthis is very delightful to know, and it makes such a\ndifference! Though I had always understood that your descent had been\nvery--precipitous!\u201d\n\nMiss Clinton glared at him, unable to utter a word, and seemed only        20\njust able to restrain herself from throwing her snuff-box at him.\n\nHe rose wearily, and went out of the room, having half a mind to run\naway altogether.\n\nBut ah! who met him at the door, bringing sunshine and peace in her\nfair face, holding out two dear little hands, and scattering with a\nword all his annoyance?\n\n\u201cDear Carl,\u201d Edith said, \u201care you really glad to see me--really glad?\u201d\n\n\u201cHow could you imagine such a thing?\u201d he replied.\n\n\u201cThen I will go back to Seaton again. Good-by!\u201d\n\nShe took a step toward the street-door, only a step, both her hands\nbeing strongly held.\n\n\u201cYou forget, then, silvern speech and golden silence,\u201d the young man\nsaid.\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d she replied. \u201cBut solid silver is better than airy gold. If\npeople say kind things to you, then you are sure, and have something\nto remember; but looks fade, and you can think that you mistake, or\nmistook. Oh! I like silence, Carl, but it must be a silence that\nfollows after speech. That is the sole golden silence.\u201d\n\n\u201cI am glad to see your face and hear your voice once more, Edith,\u201d he\nsaid seriously. \u201cI have many a time longed for both.\u201d\n\n\u201cDear Carl!\u201d she exclaimed. \u201cBut what is that I hear? Is it a parrot?\u201d\n\nCarl laughed. \u201cHush! It is Miss Clinton. She is calling out to know\nwho has come. We will go in and see her.\u201d\n\nMiss Clinton had one pleasant expression, and that was a smile, when\nshe was so delighted by something out of herself as to forget herself.\nThis smile brightened her face as she watched the young couple\napproach her, hand in hand. She leaned back in her chair, and\ncontemplated Edith, without thinking of returning her greeting.\n\n\u201cI\u2019m sure that is a golden silence,\u201d Carl said, laughing. \u201cBut what do\nyou think of her, aunt? She likes to have people speak first, and look\nafterward.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are welcome, dear!\u201d the old lady said softly, and extended her\nhand, but without leaning forward. To take it, therefore, Edith had to\ncome very near, and was drawn gently down to the footstool by Miss\nClinton\u2019s chair.\n\nThe old lady took off the girl\u2019s hat, and dropped it on to the carpet,\nthen studied her face with delight. She loosened one of the braids of\nhair wound around her head, and held it out to a sunbeam to see the\nsparkle of it. She pushed it back from the face. \u201cDid you ever see\nsuch ears?\u201d she said to Carl. \u201cThey are rose-leaves! There must be a\nlarge pearl hung in each. She drew her finger along the smooth curve\nof the brows. \u201cA great artist and physiognomist once told me that such\nbrows show a fine nature. Broken brows, he said, indicate\neccentricities of character, brows bent toward the nose a tyrannical\ndisposition, heavy brows reserve and silence, but this long, smooth\nbrow versatility and grace. Read Lavater if you want to know all about\neyebrows.\u201d She took the cheek, now glowing with blushes, in the hollow\nof her hand, and held the eyelids down to admire the lashes. \u201cThey\nmake the eyes look three shades darker than they really are. But what\ncolor are the eyes? They are no color. Did you ever see a shaded\nforest spring, Carl? These eyes are as limpid.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! please don\u2019t!\u201d the girl begged, trying to hide her face.              21\n\n\u201cMy dear, I shall call you Eug\u00e9nie, and shall adore you,\u201d Miss Clinton\ncontinued. \u201cI hope they have not told you horrible stories about me,\nor that, if they have, you will not believe them. People are fond of\nsaying that I am sharp, but I quote Victor Hugo to them, \u2018_La rose\ndu Bengale, pour \u00eatre sans \u00e9pines, est aussi sans parfum._\u2019 A\ncharacter without any sharpness would be like an ocean without salt.\nTemper sweetens. When any person is recommended to me as of a very\nmild and placid position, never getting angry, I always say, Keep that\nperson out of my sight! Yes, I shall call you Eug\u00e9nie. I dislike the\nEdith on account of old Mrs. Yorke. She and I always quarrelled, dear.\nWe were what some one has called \u2018intimate enemies.\u2019 But I don\u2019t mean\nto quarrel with her grand-daughter. You have your father\u2019s eyes and\nhair, Eug\u00e9nie, but your mother\u2019s features. I hope you have not her\ndisposition. She was too positive, and, besides, she ran away with\nanother woman\u2019s beau.\u201d\n\nEdith drew back, and stood up, turning to Carl.\n\n\u201cThere! she is angry the first thing,\u201d the old lady cried. \u201cNo danger\nof anybody\u2019s thinking her _sans \u00e9pines_. Take her down to get\nsome breakfast, Carl.\u201d\n\n\u201cDick Rowan is here,\u201d Edith said, as the two went down-stairs; \u201cand he\nis a Catholic; and he has a new ship which he has named for me.\u201d\n\nThere was no reply. They were going through the shady entry, and, if\nthe young man frowned at the news, the frown was not seen.\n\n\u201cAunt Amy has gone to Hester\u2019s,\u201d Edith went on. \u201cShe got over the\njourney nicely, and wants to see you very soon. She will send Hester\nup to see me presently. I am too tired to go out to-day, would you\nbelieve it? You see, travel was so new to me that I could not sleep. I\nstayed on deck as long as I could, then I listened all night. It\nseemed so strange to be on the water, out of sight of land.\u201d\n\nLater, while the young traveller was resting in the chamber assigned\nher, a visitor entered gently, unannounced. \u201cI thought I might come,\ndear,\u201d Miss Mills said.\n\nEdith raised herself, and eagerly held out her arms. The lady embraced\nher tenderly, then dropped, rather than sat down, in a chair by the\nbed. She looked with a strange mingling of feelings on this child of\nher lost lover. When she recognized the tint of his hair and eyes in\nEdith\u2019s, she bent toward her with yearning love; but then appeared\nsome trait of the mother--a turn of the head, a smile unconsciously\nproud, an exquisitely fine outline of feature; and, at sight of it,\nthat wounded heart shrank back as from a deadly enemy. The interview\nwas friendly, and even tender, and engagements were made for future\nmeetings; but the lady was glad to get away. The sight of Robert\nYorke\u2019s child had wakened all the sleeping past, and for a time the\nyears that had intervened since her parting with him faded like a\nmist. Since that day, more than one power, at first pride, later\nreligion, had strengthened her, had raised up new hopes and new joys;\nbut they were not the sweet human hopes and joys that every man and\nwoman looks naturally for; they were those born of struggle and\nself-denial. She had lived truly and nobly, but she was human; and\nto-day her humanity rose, and swept over her like a flood.\n\nMiss Mills locked herself into her room, and for once gave herself up      22\nto regret. It was no ordinary affection which she mourned. It had\nentered her heart silently, and been welcomed like an angel visitant;\nit had been held sacred. She had watched it with awe and delight as it\ngrew, that strange, beautiful, terrible power! How complex it had\nbecome, entering into every feeling, every interest! How it had\nchanged and given a new meaning to life, and a new idea and\ncomprehension of herself!\n\nThen, when it had got to seem that she alone was not a complete being,\nbut only about to become perfect--then destruction came.\n\n             \u201cJove strikes the Titans down,\n       Not when they set about their mountain-piling,\n       But when another rock would crown their work.\u201d\n\nIf the foundation merely of an edifice be overthrown, there is hope\nthat it may be rebuilt; but destruction overtaking when the topmost\nheight is almost attained is destruction indeed.\n\nIn the evening a knock was heard at the chamber door, which she had\nall day refused to open, a note was pushed under the door, and a\nservant waited outside for her to read it. She rose wearily, lighted\nthe gas, and glanced over the lines. \u201cI am sorry you have headache,\nsorry for you and for me. Edith is talking with Mr. Rowan, and I am,\nconsequently, _de trop_. There is no one I care to see to-night\nbut you. Send me word if you are better.\u201d\n\n\u201cTell him to wait,\u201d she ordered, and, hastily dressing for a walk,\nwent down. The front parlor was not lighted, but she saw him sitting\nby a window there. \u201cCome out!\u201d she said. \u201cI wanted to go to the\nchapel, and you are just in time.\u201d\n\nScarcely a word was spoken as they went through the streets together.\nThey entered the chapel, and turned aside into a shady corner. Carl\nsat, and his companion, too exhausted to kneel, sat beside him. In a\nroom near by, a choir was singing that most beautiful of hymns--\n\n     \u201cJesus, lover of my soul.\u201d\n\n\u201cAlice,\u201d Carl whispered, \u201cthat is enough to break one\u2019s heart!\u201d\n\nHer tears broke forth afresh. \u201cNo, Carl, it is enough to heal a heart\nalready broken.\u201d She listened, and looking toward the altar, repeated\nover and over,\n\n     \u201cOther refuge have I none.\u201d\n\nThe solitude and quiet were soothing to both--the sense of a divine\npresence more than soothing to her who had faith in it.\n\nThey had not been there long when a gentleman came up the aisle with a\nfirm, but light step, passed by without noticing them, and knelt down\njust before them. Carl sat and gazed at him in astonishment. That Dick\nRowan should outwardly and publicly conform to the church, for Edith\u2019s\nsake, was not surprising, but that he should come privately to the\nchapel to pray was inexplicable. Could it be that a brave, manly\nfellow like this could sincerely believe?\n\nUtterly unconscious of observation, the sailor knelt there motionless,\nwith his face hidden in his hands, and when Carl\u2019s companion whispered\nto him, and they both went out, that figure had not stirred.\n\nEdith Yorke\u2019s friend began at once to show her what was notable in the\ncity; but, as often happens, what they considered worth seeing\ndisappointed the neophyte, and what they passed without notice she\nwould fain have paused to look at. Inexperienced persons who have read\nmuch usually overestimate the magnitude of the wonders they have not\nseen. What young traveller, entering for the first time a city, ever\nfound its houses as palatial, its streets as superb, its monuments as      23\ngrand, as fancy had pictured them?\n\n\u201cEverything looks so much smaller and more shabby,\u201d Edith confessed\nprivately to Dick Rowan. \u201cTrees and waters are finer than any pictures\nof them that I have seen, and faces that speak and smile are more\nbeautiful than any painted ones. Only some pictures of Italian scenes\ndelight me. Now, Dick, please do not be shocked when I tell you that I\nquite long to stop and look at the organ-grinders and their monkeys,\nand to gaze in at the shop windows. But I can\u2019t, you know, for that\nwould make Carl and Hester and Miss Mills ashamed of me.\u201d\n\nThe result of this confidence was that, dressed to attract as little\nattention as possible, these two friends set the others aside, and\nwent on long tramps together. They paid not much attention to the\nfiner sights, but dived into all sorts of byways. They looked in at\nshop windows, at birds and shells and jewels, and more than one\nshopkeeper was smilingly pleased to display his best wares at the\nyoung lady\u2019s shy request, though informed beforehand that she did not\nmean to buy. They watched the organ-grinders and their monkeys to\ntheir hearts\u2019 content; they amused themselves with the _gamins_,\nand held various conversations with them; they were bountiful to\nstreet-beggars. Ragged urchins were astonished by showers of candy\nthat seemed to descend from heaven on their heads, poor little weeping\noutcasts were asked to tell their griefs, and listened to with tender\nsympathy, tears perhaps rising into one pair of eyes that looked at\nthem. Sometimes a wretched pauper, walking with downcast face through\nthe street, felt something touch his hand and leave a bit of money\nthere, and looked up to see a lady and gentleman just passing, and one\nsweet face glance momentarily back with a smile at once arch and\npitying. \u201cShall I ruin you, Dick?\u201d Edith asks gleefully. \u201cI have\nruined myself; but that didn\u2019t take long. My poor little money is all\ngone. Are you very rich?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! immensely!\u201d Dick replies. \u201cI have chests of gold. Give away as\nmuch as you wish to.\u201d\n\nOne blind man gone astray long remembered how a soft hand took one of\nhis, and a firm hand the other, and his two guides led him home,\ninquiring into his misfortune by the way, and commiserating him more\ntenderly than brother or sister ever had.\n\n\u201cIt is so sad to have all the beautiful world shut out,\u201d said the\nsweet voice out of the dark. \u201cBut one might, I think, see heavenly\nthings the more plainly.\u201d\n\nThe poor man never lost himself afterward, but he looked blindly, and\nlistened to hear once more those two voices, and to feel the clasp of\nthose two hands, one soft as charity, the other strong as faith. And\nsince they never came to him again, to his imprisoned soul it seemed\nas though heavenly visitants had led him, and spoken sacred words for\nhim to remember. These two young creatures, out of the happy world of\nthe rich and prosperous, were not afraid of soiling their hands or\ntheir clothes, and did not look on the poor as they did on the\npaving-stones.\n\n\u201cO Dick!\u201d Edith said in one of those walks, \u201cI do not wonder that the\nLord could not stay in heaven when he saw the misery of earth, and\nknew that there was no comfort even in another world for it. What a\ntrial it must have been for him to sit above there, and hear all the\ncries of pain that went up, and see all the weeping faces that were\nraised. Why, Dick, it seems to me that if I could see and know at          24\nonce all the suffering there is to-day in this one city, it would kill\nme. I wish we could do something besides play, as we do. Perhaps we\nought to work all our lives for the wretched, you and I; who can\ntell?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes!\u201d the young man replied slowly, and was silent a moment,\nthinking. \u201cThat idea comes into my mind sometimes,\u201d he added. \u201cI\nalways fancy that the poor and the wicked look at me in an asking way,\ndifferently from what they do to others, as if they expected me to do\nsomething for them. It may be only because they see how I look at\nthem. I never see one but I think, How should I feel if that were my\nfather or my mother? But I don\u2019t know what great work I could do. My\nlife seems mapped out.\u201d\n\nSometimes their expeditions were merrier. They went to the Back Bay\nlands, then not filled in, and stood so close to the railroad tracks\nthat the passing trains blew in their faces. \u201cI like strength and\nforce,\u201d Edith said; \u201cand I like the wind in my face. It would be\npleasant to ride in a car with an open front, and the engine on\nbehind. Does it not seem like that in a ship at sea, Dick?\u201d\n\n\u201cBetter than that,\u201d he answered, his eyes brightening. \u201cFor at sea you\nhave a clear track, and can fly on without stopping or turning out for\nanything.\u201d\n\n\u201cNow, let\u2019s go and see that large building,\u201d the girl said. \u201cIsn\u2019t it\nfine to go about in this way? You are Haroun-al-Raschid, and I am\nanybody, and we are exploring our capital. We are, perhaps, invisible.\nStop a minute. There are fishes in this ditch. I am going to catch one\nwith a crooked pin.\u201d\n\nThey looked at the large building, Chickering\u2019s piano-forte factory,\nand Dick described foreign buildings to his companion, and described\nso vividly and so simply that the structures seemed to rise before her.\nHe was remarkably gifted in this respect. His clear eyes took in the\ngeneral effect, and caught here and there a salient point to give it\ncharacter and sharpness, and his descriptions were never blurred by\nsuperfluous words, or by imagination, which often destroys the\noutlines of tangible things by its perceptions of their intangible\nmeaning.\n\nOne morning they went to Mass to receive communion together. The\nmorning was lovely, the spring green all freshness, the birds singing,\nthe sun stealing goldenly through a faint mist. Edith rose happy, and\neverything added to her happiness. It was delightful to have some one\nto go to Mass with. It only now occurred to her that she had been\nlonely in her religion.\n\n\u201cI hope that I shall make a good communion,\u201d she said to herself, as\nshe began to dress. \u201cWhat should I do? Let me think! If I had a house\nof my own, rather a poor little place, and some one I loved and\nhonored were coming to visit me, I should first make my house clean.\nThen I should adorn it all I could, and prepare a little feast. I have\nno servant, I will say, and must do everything myself. I am rather\nglad of that, for I can show my good-will so. I will not mind getting\non my knees to scrub out the darkest corners. But I must let in light\nto see where to cleanse. Come, Holy Spirit! enlighten my soul, and let\nno darkness remain where a sin can hide itself. Then comes my\nconfession; but what poor things confessions are! I wish I could say,\nI accuse myself of having broken all the ten commandments of God, and\nthe six commandments of the church, and of having committed the seven\ndeadly sins, and every sin that could be committed, and each a             25\nthousand times over. Then I should be sure to get them all in. But\nFather Rasle says that, if our dispositions are good, the sins we\nforget, or do not understand, are included and forgiven with those we\nconfess. As when a woman sweeps her room, she sweeps out, perhaps,\nsome things she does not see. Well, say that my house is clean, what\nhave I to adorn it with?\u201d She paused with the brush half-drawn through\nher hair, and the first sunbeams, shining in her face, shone on\ngathering tears. She recollected herself, and went on with her\ndressing. \u201cSuch a bare reception! Nothing to offer! How about faith,\nhope, and charity? I believe everything, I could believe a thousand\ntimes more; but even the devils believe, Father Rasle says. I don\u2019t\nknow whether I hope in the right way. Hope is a hard virtue to manage.\nDo I love him? Yes! Even though I do wrong, still I love him. It is no\nsign that you do not love a person, even if you do things to vex him.\nWhat good work can I do to-day? I will read Miss Clinton to sleep, and\nlet Bird go out. That will be something, because I would rather go out\nmyself. And I will ask Miss Clinton if I may read a paper to her. That\nwill be awfully hard, for she will stare at me, and then laugh in that\nway that makes me want to run out of the room. And I will--yes--no--will\nI? Yes, I will try to kiss her, if I possibly can. She would be\npleased; but I shouldn\u2019t be. Those will be like little daisies at the\ndoorstep when he comes in. But my house is bare yet. If only I had\nsome pain to offer!\u201d\n\nHer eyes chanced to fall on a coil of picture-cord, and the sight of\nit gave her a new and startling thought. She paused a moment, then,\nrising, pulled her curtains close, opened the door to assure herself\nthat there was no one in the corridor outside, then shut the door and\nlocked it. This done, she looped and knotted the cord into a\ndiscipline--ah! not in vain had she once asked Father Rasle what that\nwas. Her hands trembled with eagerness while she fastened the five\nlashes together. Then, with one glowing upward glance, she knelt, and\nbrought the discipline, with the full force of her arm, round across\nher shoulders. A faint cry followed the first blow, and the blood\nrushed crimson over her face and neck. \u201cO Lord! I did not mean to cry\nout!\u201d she whispered, and listened, and struck again, and yet again.\n\u201cOne for each of the five wounds, one for each of the times he prayed\nin the garden.\u201d She paused, and dropped forward with her face on the\nfloor, writhing in silent pain. \u201cNow, one for each station of the way\nof the cross.\u201d Tears ran down her cheeks, but her strong young arm and\nheart did not falter. \u201cNow, a decade of the rosary.\u201d\n\nSobbing, half-fainting, she rose after a while, and hid the precious\npencil, with which she had painted a picture for the wall of her\nlittle reception-room.\n\n\u201cI must put on something extra, so that the blood shall not show\nthrough my dress,\u201d she said; but, looking to wipe away the blood,\nbehold! not a drop was there, but only long welts of red and white\ncrossing her fair shoulders.\n\nEdith hid her face, with a _feeling_ of utter humiliation and\ngrief. She had been agonizing under the blows which had produced only\na few marks, and yet fancying that she imitated him whose flesh had\nbeen torn by the lash, and whose blood had flowed in streams. \u201cI can\ndo nothing, nothing! I am silly and presumptuous,\u201d were the thoughts\nwith which she finished her preparation to go out.                         26\n\nBut, trivial as her penance had been, it brought humility, and a\ndeeper sense of the sufferings of our Lord.\n\nA servant who was washing the steps as Edith went out, smiled\ngratefully to the pleasant greeting of the young lady, and looked\nafter her as she went down the street. The servants, all Catholics,\nwere very proud and fond of this young Catholic in their Protestant\nhousehold.\n\n\u201cSince I cannot do anything,\u201d Edith pursued, as she walked on toward\nthe church, \u201cI will ask the Blessed Virgin and St. Joseph to come\nfirst, and be in my house when the Lord shall enter. He will be\npleased to find them there. Then, when the time comes, I will go and\nmeet him at the door; but how dreadfully ashamed I shall be! I shall\nnot dare to look up, but I shall say, \u2018Welcome, Lord!\u2019 and kneel down,\nand kiss his feet. Then, if there is anything more to be done, he will\ndo it, for I can do nothing. How odd it is that I should feel so\nashamed at having him come to me, and yet should want him to come! I\nwouldn\u2019t put it off for anything.\u201d\n\nDick was waiting inside the chapel-door for her. He pointed her to a\nconfessional, then took his place near the altar. When it came time\nfor communion, they knelt side by side, but retired again to different\nseats.\n\nHow long Edith knelt there she did not know. She had covered her face\nwith her hands, shutting out the sight of all about her, and her soul\nhad entered a new scene. There was a simple, small room, bare save for\ntwo vague, luminous presences, one at either side, lighting the place.\nThere was an open door, with vines swinging about it, and a half-seen\npicture of verdure, and deep blue heavens outside. Up through that\npure, intense color stretched two lines of motionless winged forms, as\nif they bowed at either side of a path down which one had come. Within\nthe door, under the vines, stood the Lord, and she was prostrate on\nthe floor, with her arms clasped around, and her lips pressed to, his\nfeet. She did not look up, and he did not speak nor stir, but his\nsmile shone down through all her being. Let it last so for ever!\n\nThe tinkling of a bell awoke her as from a sound sleep--a flicker, as\nof flames in the wind, moved those heavenly lines of receding faces,\nand Edith lifted her head, and recollected where she was, seeming to\nbe suddenly transported back there from a distance. The priest was\ncarrying the host away from the altar of the chapel up to the church.\nHe held the sacred burden clasped closely to his breast, and bent his\nhead slightly toward it. He looked at it as he walked, yet chose his\nsteps with care. He wrapped around it the golden veil, of which the\nfringe glistened like fire as he moved. No mother could carry a\nsleeping infant more tenderly.\n\nEdith stretched out her hands, with a momentary feeling of\nbereavement, for the Lord was going away. \u201cOh! take my heart with\nthee!\u201d she prayed.\n\nThe lights disappeared, the sound of the bell grew fainter up the\nstairs, and ceased. She sighed, then smiled again, and became aware of\nDick sitting at the furthest end of the bench, and waiting for her.\nThey went out by separate aisles, and met at the door.\n\n\u201cI would like to have followed up into the church, and waited till he\nwas at rest again, and seen where they lay him,\u201d Edith said after a        27\nwhile.\n\nDick smiled quietly, and said nothing. He was looking quite pale, but\nbright. She made no comment on his looks, thinking that the communion\nwas the cause of his emotion.\n\nThey went to the public gardens before going home. It was very lovely\nthere. The mists of the morning had slowly gathered themselves into\ndetached clouds, and they scarcely moved, the air was so still. The\ntrees and the many pink flowers about glistened with dew.\n\nEdith began to love her quietude, and grow merry, but with an angelic\nmerriment. \u201cDo you think that the Lord came down to the garden only at\nevening?\u201d she asked. \u201cI think he came at early morning, unless he\nstayed all night--morning is so beautiful! How alive everything is!\nYou can almost see eyes in the flowers. See the swans on the water.\nThey float like clouds in the sky. Fancy a pink swan in a large blue\nlake, throwing up sprays as white as snow over his bosom! Do you think\nthat the earth was any more beautiful when it was first made? Is it\nnot lovely now?\u201d\n\nThere was no answer in words, but the young man\u2019s eyes, glancing\nabout, were eloquent, and his smile was one of peaceful delight.\n\n\u201cCome,\u201d the girl said, \u201clet\u2019s play that this is really the Garden of\nEden, and that you and I are just taking our first walk in it,\nwondering over everything. Let us look at ourselves in the water, and\nsee if we are as beautiful as all the rest.\u201d\n\nHe smiled at the childish fancy, took the hand she offered him, and\nwent with her over the water. The swans passed by, and sent ripples\nover their mirror, but it was clear enough to give back the image of a\nsweet oval face with bright eyes and lips, and of another face more\nrichly tinted, peach-colored with sun and wind, with eyes that\nsparkled, and white teeth that laughed through a chestnut beard.\n\n\u201cAdam,\u201d said the woman, \u201cthou art more stately than the palm, and\nthine eyes have beams like the sun. Let us praise the Creator who hath\nformed thee in his own image!\u201d\n\nDick\u2019s hand and voice trembled, his face grew red in the water, then\ngrew pale. \u201cEve,\u201d he said, \u201cthou art whiter and more graceful than the\nswan, and, while thou art speaking, the birds listen. I praise him who\nhas given thee to me to be mine alone and for ever--my mate in this\nworld and in the next.\u201d\n\nSpeaking, his light clasp grew tight on her hand.\n\nThe face and throat that had shown swan-white in the water grew\nrose-red, then disappeared as Edith started back.\n\n\u201cHow could I look forward to anything else, Edith?\u201d the young man\nexclaimed desperately. \u201cI have never dreamed of any other life. I have\nworked, and studied, and hoped for you. What! will you turn away from\nme now, for the first time? God have mercy on me!\u201d\n\nShe did not utter a word at first. She was too much confounded. It was\nto her as though the friend she had so long known had been suddenly\nsnatched from her side, and a stranger like, and yet unlike, him put\nin his place. This man with the pallid face and trembling voice was\nnot Dick Rowan. She wanted to get away from him. But after a step or\ntwo she turned back again.\n\n\u201cWho would have thought it?\u201d she said, looking at him anxiously, as\nthough half hoping that the whole was a jest.\n\n\u201cWho would have thought anything else?\u201d he replied, taking courage.        28\n\nShe turned away again, but he walked on beside her. It was too late to\nwithdraw. Having spoken, he must say all.\n\n\u201cI think you were the only person who did not see what I lived for,\u201d\nhe said.\n\n\u201cBut it is nonsense!\u201d she exclaimed.\n\n\u201cWe have always known each other. We are like brother and sister. Is\nit only strangers who marry?\u201d he asked.\n\n\u201cMarry! Fie! I never thought of such a thing!\u201d she said angrily.\n\n\u201cWon\u2019t you please think of it now, Edith?\u201d he asked, in a voice so\ngentle and controlled that it recalled her own self-possession. \u201cThis\nhas been the great thought of my life. It made me ambitious, for your\nsake. I am a Catholic, thank God! and a sincere one, but it was love\nof you that led me to study and think on that subject. When my life\nhangs in the balance, I am sure you will at least stop to think,\ndear.\u201d\n\nShe looked at him, but he did not return her glance. His eyes were\nfixed on the ground, and it really seemed as though his life did hang\nin the balance.\n\n\u201cI\u2019d like to stop and talk about it a little while, Dick,\u201d she said.\n\u201cSit here. Now, be reasonable, and I will not be cross again. Forgive\nme! I was so surprised, you know; for I have been studying all my\nlife, and never thought about this. Now, it seems to me, Dick, that I\nshall never want to be married to any one whatever. I shall live with\nAunt Amy, and, when she is dead, I will go into a convent, or, if I\nshould have money, will do something for the poor, perhaps. If you\nwant to have me with you, some time I can go on a voyage in your ship,\nand you can always come to see me when you come home. Won\u2019t that do?\u201d\n\nHe smiled faintly.\n\n\u201cOh! thank you!\u201d she said, greatly relieved.\n\n\u201cHas any one else ever spoken to you in this way, Edith?\u201d he asked,\nlooking at her searchingly.\n\n\u201cOh! no,\u201d she answered with decision. \u201cI am not at all engaged, or\nanything like it. No one ever cared anything about me. And I hope you\nare satisfied now, Dick. It is very well for people to marry who are\nafraid of losing each other; but we can live close by when we grow\nold, or perhaps in the same house.\u201d\n\n\u201cI have disturbed and troubled you, Edith,\u201d the young man said after\nawhile, \u201cbut I could not help it. There must be a beginning to\neverything, and I had to make a beginning of this. I don\u2019t expect you\nto treat it seriously now, but I want you to think of it. It seemed\nright that I should speak, or some one else might speak while I am\ngone, and take you away from me.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut I should never think of having any one else, if you want me,\u201d she\nreplied with perfect conviction. \u201cI may not ever marry at all, but, if\nI do, you will have the first chance.\u201d\n\nDick Rowan\u2019s whole face caught fire. \u201cWhy, darling!\u201d he exclaimed\njoyfully, \u201cdo you mean that?\u201d\n\nShe was astonished and pleased at the effect of her words, \u201cTruly,\u201d\nshe answered. \u201cYou know very little of me if you do not know that I\nhave always considered myself to belong more to you than to any one\nelse.\u201d\n\nThey had now reached Miss Clinton\u2019s door, and there they parted\nwithout more words.\n\nBut Edith\u2019s indecision was of shorter duration than either she or her\nfriend had anticipated. The subject was so foreign to her thoughts         29\nthat at first she had comprehended nothing, and had received Dick\nRowan\u2019s avowal in a most childish manner. But a few hours\u2019\nconsideration had set the whole in a different light. She went down to\nHester\u2019s as soon as dinner was over, and asked for her aunt. Mrs.\nYorke was in her own room, writing a letter, and she only glanced up\nwith a smile as her niece entered.\n\n\u201cAll well at Miss Clinton\u2019s?\u201d she asked, folding the letter.\n\n\u201cYes, very well.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnything new?\u201d\n\n\u201cMiss Clinton told me last night that her will is made, leaving\neverything to Carl, and that, if I marry to suit her, I am to have her\njewels, shawls, and laces. I do not want them, though I would rather\nhave fresh new things for myself, if they are not so rich.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhom does she wish you to marry?\u201d Mrs. Yorke asked, directing her\nletter.\n\n\u201cShe did not say,\u201d Edith replied in a constrained voice, looking down.\n\nMrs. Yorke glanced at her niece, then put her arm out and drew her\nclose. \u201cYou have something to tell me, dear,\u201d she said.\n\nEdith began to tremble. \u201cYes, Aunt Amy. Dick Rowan has been talking to\nme this morning, and, if you and Uncle Charles are willing, and if I\nshould ever marry any one, I am going to marry him.\u201d\n\nMrs. Yorke\u2019s brows contracted slightly, rather with anxiety than\ndispleasure. \u201cDear child, are you sure of yourself?\u201d she asked. \u201cOne\nmay have a very great affection for a person, and not be willing to\nmarry him. Don\u2019t be hasty. Take time to think of it till he shall come\nback again. If you promise, you may regret it. I must say, dear, I\nthink it selfish of him to speak so when you have seen nothing but\nbirds and books, and do not know your own mind.\u201d\n\nEdith raised her head from her aunt\u2019s shoulder. \u201cOh! Dick isn\u2019t\nselfish, and he only asked me to think of it, and to know that he\nwanted me.\u201d\n\nIt was useless to oppose. After a little more talk, Mrs. Yorke\npromised to consent if both were of the same mind after a year. \u201cAnd\nnow, Edith, I have concluded to start for home to-morrow, and I want\nto see Carl right away.\u201d\n\nShe did not say that she had only come to this conclusion since Edith\nhad entered her room.\n\n\u201cAnd I also wish to see Mr. Rowan,\u201d she added. \u201cDid he not mean to\nconsult me?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! yes,\u201d Edith said eagerly. \u201cHe is coming up this evening; and,\nAunt Amy\u201d--very hesitatingly--\u201cdon\u2019t let me be married for a great\nwhile, till I am twenty-five, at least. Of course,\u201d looking up\nquickly, as if some doubt had been expressed--\u201cof course, I think the\nworld of him, and don\u2019t wish to marry any one else; but I cannot,\n_cannot_ hurry.\u201d\n\nMrs. Yorke had a long conversation with her niece\u2019s lover, that\nevening, and laid down the law rather severely to him. No one but\nEdith, herself, and Mr. Yorke were to know of his proposal. \u201cI do not\nwish her to be talked about, and assigned to any one, when nothing is\ndecided,\u201d she said. \u201cIt is for that purpose that I am taking her away\nso soon, to prevent talk. If, when you come home next year, she wishes\nit, and nothing has happened to raise any new objection, I shall not\noppose you.\u201d\n\nHe sat a moment silent. He asked nothing better than he had got; but\nhis proud spirit rebelled at the manner in which the promise was\ngiven. He was tolerated because they could not help themselves.            30\n\n\u201cDo you agree to that?\u201d she asked, after waiting a moment.\n\n\u201cCertainly!\u201d he replied. \u201cI forgot to say so, and to thank you,\nbecause, excuse me! I was thinking how much poorer an offering is a\nman\u2019s whole heart and faithful allegiance than a full purse.\u201d\n\n\u201cIf you had millions, it would make no difference, Mr. Rowan,\u201d Mrs.\nYorke said hastily, her color rising. \u201cIf I am not cordial in\nwelcoming you into this relation, my reasons are not mercenary, nor--\u201d\nher manner softened--\u201cnor because I do not respect and like you.\u201d\n\nShe held her hand out to him. He bent gallantly over it, murmured a\nword of thanks, and took leave without saying any more.\n\nHe was willing, almost glad, that Edith should go home. He welcomed\nany stir and progress in events which would seem to pass the time more\nquickly along. Let him get over his year of probation, and, during it,\nbe separated from her, if they chose. Her doubt and trouble in their\nnew relations troubled him. When he should come again, all would be\nsettled. He was full of hope and triumph, and far removed from\njealousy. She had said that she should not think of marrying any one\nbut him; and what Edith said was as sure as sunrise.\n\n                          TO BE CONTINUED.\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n                           (IN MEMORIAM.)\n\n                             A CONVERT.\n\n                                1856.\n\n(These lines express the feelings of one, now at rest, who was loved\nand honored by all who knew him--including, probably, those who cast\nhim off.)\n\n\n                                  I.\n\n                Ah me! my alienated friends,\n                  Whose friendship, like a branch half-broke,\n                With all its mildewed blossoms bends,\n                  And piecemeal rots;--how kind the stroke\n                That bond--your bondage--sent to sever!\n                Yet, can I wish it? Never, never!\n\n                                  II.\n\n                I hear them tread your festal floors:\n                  When now the lights no longer burn,\n                Alone I haunt your darkened doors:\n                  The guests are gone; yet I return:\n                In dreamless sleep outstretched you lie:\n                I dream of all the days gone by.\n\n                                 III.                                      31\n\n                Against myself your part I take:\n                  \u201cI was of those whose spring is fair;\n                Whom men but love in hope, and wake\n                  To find (youth flown) the worse for wear:\n                \u2019Gainst the defaulter judgment goes:\n                I lived on trust, and they foreclose.\u201d\n\n                                 IV.\n\n                And many times I say: \u201cThey feel\n                  In me the faults they spare to name;\n                Nor flies unjust the barb\u00e8d steel,\n                  Though loosened with a random aim.\u201d\n                Officious zeal! for them I plead\n                Who neither seek such aid, nor need.\n\n                                  V.\n\n                Give up thy summer wealth at last,\n                  Sad tree; and praise the frost that bares\n                Thy boughs, ere comes that wintry blast\n                  Which fells the grove that autumn spares.\n                There where thou lov\u2019st thou liv\u2019st! Bequeath,\n                Except thy bones, no spoils to death!\n\n                                 VI.\n\n                To others sovereign Faith exalts\n                  Her voice from temple and from shrine:\n                For me she rears from funeral vaults\n                  A cross that bleeds with drops divine;\n                And Hope--above a tombstone--lifts\n                Her latest, yet her best of gifts.\n\n                                                      AUBREY DE VERE.\n\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n          THE LIQUEFACTION OF THE BLOOD OF ST. JANUARIUS.                  32\n\n                              NO. II.\n\n\nWhen was this liquefaction of the blood of St. Januarius first seen by\nmen? It is not easy to answer the question. Some Neapolitan writers\nhave maintained that it occurred probably on the very day when the\nremains of the sainted bishop were first solemnly transferred to\nNaples. For then, naturally and as a matter of course, the vials of\nthe blood must have been brought into close proximity with the relics\nof the head. And this proximity, now intentionally brought about at\neach exposition, seems to be ordinarily the necessary and sufficient\ncondition for the occurrence of the liquefaction. Others, however,\nprefer to be guided by positive historical evidence, and have come to\na different conclusion. There is in existence a life of the saint\nwritten in or near Naples, about the year 920. It combines historical\naccounts and later legends, and evidently omits nothing which the\nwriter thought would promote veneration toward the saint. It is\ndiffuse on the subject of miracles. There is also in existence a\npanegyric of the saint, written perhaps half a century earlier still.\nNo mention whatever is made in either of them of this Liquefaction. We\nmay, therefore, conclude that in the year 920 it was not known. Four\nhundred and fifty years later, it was known, and had been known so\nlong as to be reputed of ancient standing. About 1380, Lupus dello\nSpecchio wrote the life of St. Peregrine of Scotland, who came to\nNaples about the year 1100, and died there probably about 1130. In\nthat life it is stated that St. Peregrine came to witness this\ncelebrated and continual miracle--_quotidianum et insigne miraculum_.\nNow, it may well be that the author, writing about two hundred and\nfifty years after the death of St. Peregrine, had access to documents\nand evidences clearly establishing this fact, although such documents\ndo not now exist, five hundred years later, or, at least, have not as\nyet been exhumed from some dusty library, where they may be lying\nunnoticed. Or, on the contrary, it may possibly be that in 1380 Lupus\nbelieved that the miracle, so regular in its occurrence at his day,\nhad regularly occurred since the year of the translation of the body,\nand took it as a matter of course that St. Peregrine had witnessed it;\nand so put that down among the facts of his life. But this, even\nthough a harsh criticism, and one we think unwarranted, if not\nexcluded, by the words of the life, would imply at least that, in\n1380, the Liquefaction had occurred for so long a time that men had\nordinarily lost the memory of its commencement.\n\nMaraldus the Carthusian, who accompanied his abbot Rudolph to the\ncoronation of Roger, King of Sicily, as historiographer, tells us in\nhis _Chronicon_--or perhaps his continuator--how, in 1140, Roger\nvisited Naples, and how there he venerated the relics of the head and\nof the blood of St. Januarius. The Liquefaction is not mentioned in so\nmany words. But these relics would not have been singled out from all\nothers in the city, and made so prominent, without some special            33\nreason--a reason, perhaps, so well known and so obvious that it did\nnot occur to the writer to state it explicitly, any more than to say\nthat the king venerated the relics in the daytime and not at night.\n\nThe learned and critical Bollandists, who have carefully weighed all\nthat can be said on this question, incline to hold that the\nLiquefaction commenced somewhere between the years 900 and 1000. Prior\nto the century between those years, St. Januarius had been ranked\namong the minor patrons of the church of Naples. After that century,\nhe holds the most prominent place and rank in their calendar. This\nchange is unusual and important, and must have been based on some\nsufficient reason. The most probable one under the circumstances--if\nnot the only one that can be assigned--is that during that century the\nLiquefactions became known. The contemporary records of Naples for\nthat time were very few; for it was a period of incessant warrings,\ndevastations, and tumults. Those that did exist probably perished in\nthe not unfrequent destruction of the monastic libraries. Still, some\nvenerable manuscript may even yet come to light, telling us how on\nsome festival day, or day of supplication, the relics were all on the\naltar, the vials of the blood near to the head; how some of the crowd\nthat prayed before the altar saw that the blood in the vial had become\nliquid; how the wonderful thing was spoken of and seen by many; how,\non other occasions, it occurred again and again; until at last it came\nto be regularly looked for, as a part, and the most wonderful part, of\nthe celebration.\n\nAfter 1400, the notices of the Liquefaction are more frequent. \u00c6neas\nSylvius Piccolomini (afterwards Pope Pius II.) gives an account of it.\nRobert Gaguin, the old French historian, narrating the journey of\nCharles VIII. into Italy, mentions his visiting Naples in 1495, and\nhis witnessing and examining this miracle of the Liquefaction.\n\nIn 1470, Angelo Catone, a physician of Salerno, who devoted the later\nyears of his life to literature and to travelling, has written a brief\nbut clear account of it. Picus de la Mirandola, the wonder of his age,\nhas also left his testimony as an eye-witness.\n\nIt is needless to say that, since the invention of printing and the\nmultiplication of books, we have numberless accounts of it from\ntravellers and authors, in Latin, Italian, German, Polish, English,\nFrench, Spanish, and every language of Europe.\n\nEver since September, 1659--ten years after the opening of the new\n_Tesoro_ chapel--an official diary has been kept in it, recording\nday by day the expositions of the relics; in what state and condition\nthe blood was found when extracted from the _armoire_, or closet;\nafter the lapse of what length of time the change, if any, occurred;\nwhat was its course and character; in what condition the blood was,\nwhen safely replaced in its closet in the evening; and, generally, any\nother facts of the day which the officers charged with this duty\ndeemed worthy of note.\n\nThere are also printed forms in blank to the same effect, which one of\nthem fills out and signs in the sacristy attached to the\n_Tesoro_, and distributes each day of exposition to those who desire\nthem. We have several in our possession.\n\nAnother diary is kept in the archiepiscopal archives. It was commenced\nlong before that of the _Tesoro_. We had an opportunity of looking\nover it. Down to the year 1526, it seems to be made up from previous\ndocuments and extracts from various authors. In 1526, it assumes the       34\ncharacter of an original diary. Here and there come intervals during\nwhich it appears not to have been regularly kept on. These omissions\nwould be supplied from other sources, when, after a time, the diary\nwould be resumed. From 1632 it is complete. We have before us a\nmanuscript abstract of it, from which we will quote hereafter.\n\nThe church of Naples celebrates three festivals of St. Januarius each\nyear; the feast proper of the saint, commemorating his martyrdom; the\nfeast of the translation, commemorating the transfer of his body from\nMarcian to Naples; and the feast of the patronage, a votive one of\nthanksgiving. We take them up in the order of time as they occur each\nyear.\n\nI. The first Sunday of May is the feast of the translation. On the\npreceding Saturday--the vigil, as it is termed--a solemn procession,\nduring the forenoon, bears the bust containing the relics of the head\nof the saint from the cathedral to the church of Santa Chiara, or St.\nClare. In the afternoon, another more imposing procession conveys the\nreliquary of the blood to the same church, in which the liquefaction\nis then looked for. About sunset, both relics are borne back in\nprocession to the cathedral and _Tesoro_ chapel, and at the proper\nhour are duly locked up. On the next day, Sunday, they are brought\nout, first to the altar of the _Tesoro_ chapel, and thence, after a\ncouple of hours, to the high altar of the cathedral. In the afternoon,\nat the appointed hour, they are again brought back to the _Tesoro_\nchapel, and are duly replaced in their closet, or _armoire_. The same\nis repeated on Monday, and on each succeeding day of the octave up to\nthe following Sunday, inclusive. Thus, for this festival in May there\nare _nine_ successive days of exposition. And, inasmuch as in the mind\nof the church the vigil, the feast, and the octave are all united\ntogether, as the celebration of one festival in a more solemn form, so\nwe naturally look on those nine expositions not as isolated and\ndistinct, one from the other, but as in some way connected together\nand united to compose a single group.\n\nThe feast and its vigil are found in ancient calendars of the church\nof Naples. The octave was added about the year 1646, on the occasion\nof completing and consecrating the new _Tesoro_ chapel, the work and\nthe pride of the city. The processions on the vigil were at first\ndirected to such churches as the ecclesiastical authorities might from\ntime to time select, to meet the convenience or the wishes of the\nfaithful. In 1337, eight special churches were designated to which in\nan established order of succession the processions would thereafter go\nin turn each year. In 1526, it was stipulated between the city\nauthorities and the archbishop that they should instead go in turn to\nsix municipal halls, or _seggie_, as the Neapolitans styled them,\nbelonging to as many civic bodies or corporations, which united, in\nsome complex and ancient way, in the municipal government of the city:\nthat is, to the chapels or churches attached to these _seggie_. This\nregulation was strictly followed until the year 1800. The old medi\u00e6val\nusages and liberties had by that time become weakened or had died out\nunder the influence of modern centralization. The several old civic\ncorporations of Naples, if they existed at all, existed only in name.\nThe halls or _seggie_ had lost their original importance and standing.\nA new regulation seemed necessary. From 1800 down, the procession of       35\nthe vigil has gone each year to the church of Santa Chiara.\n\nII. On the 19th of September occurs the Feast of St. Januarius, the\nchief or proper festival of the saint, commemorating his life of\nvirtue and his glorious death by martyrdom under Diocletian. It is\ntraced back to the earliest martyrologies and calendars of the church;\neven those of the Greek schismatic church have preserved it. In\nNaples, St. Januarius being the patron saint of the city, this\nfestival is, of course, one of high rank, and has an octave. Opening\non the nineteenth, and closing on the twenty-sixth of September, it\ngives each year _eight_ days more, on each one of which the relics are\nbrought forth about 9 A.M., and are placed on the main altar of\nthe _Tesoro_ chapel, and, about 11 A.M., are carried thence out to\nthe high altar of the cathedral, whence again in the evening they are\nregularly brought back to the _Tesoro_ chapel, to be replaced for the\nnight in their proper closets. On each day, the liquefaction is looked\nfor. The reason already given in the case of the May octave applies\nhere also. These eight days of exposition are not eight isolated or\ndistinct days, without any connection. They should rather be looked on\nas forming a second group.\n\nIII. On the 16th of December is celebrated the feast of the Patronage\nof St. Januarius. This is a single day festival in annual thanksgiving\nfor many favors received, and especially for the preservation of\nNaples, two centuries and a half ago, from the fate of Herculaneum and\nPompeii.\n\nNaples lies almost under the shadow of Mount Vesuvius, that terrible\nvolcano which, after slumbering peacefully for an unknown number of\nages, renewed its fearful and destructive eruptions in A.D. 79,\n203, 462, 512, and more than fifty times since. The burning gas or the\nsmoke from its crater has risen miles into the air, and has spread\nlike a dark cloud scores of miles on one side or the other. It has\nthrown up stones, which fell in showers of lapilli ten miles away. Its\nashes have been borne to Tunis and Algiers in Africa, and to Tuscany,\nto Illyria, and to Greece in other directions. Once they clouded the\nsky and filled the air even in Constantinople. Streams of molten lava\nhave flowed down its sides, filling valleys that were broad and deep,\nand sending in advance a sulphurous atmosphere and a glowing heat\nwhich destroyed all animal and vegetable life, even before the fiery\nstream itself touched plant, tree, or animal. They roll on slowly, but\nso inflexible and irresistible that no work or art of man can stay the\nmovement or control its course. Everything in its path is doomed to\nutter destruction. _Resina_, between Naples and the mountain, has been\ndestroyed and rebuilt, it is said, seven times; _Torre del Greco_,\nnear by, nine times. Other places have perished as did Herculaneum and\nPompeii. On every side of the mountain, so fair to look on when\npeaceful, so terrible in its wrath, one may follow for miles on miles\nthese ancient currents, radiating from the centre. Here the hard, dark\nrock rings, as iron would, under your horse\u2019s hoof. There, what was\nonce a death-bearing stream of lava has been covered by time with a\nrich soil, on which vines and olives flourish. By the shore, you may\nsee where they reached the water, and have added leagues of rough\nvolcanic rock to the land.\n\nNaples has often been violently shaken, and sometimes seriously\ninjured; has often been in imminent peril, but never was utterly           36\ndestroyed. This brilliant capital, uniting in herself all that Italian\ntaste admires of beauty and luxury--\u201c_Vedi Napoli, e muori_\u201d--lives\nwith a sword of Damocles ever suspended over her. Each night as they\nretire the Neapolitans may shudder if they cast a thought on the\npossible horrors of the night they have entered on or what the morrow\nmay bring them.\n\nBut men become callous even to such dangers as these, when often\nthreatened and seldom felt. We can conceive how thoroughly all thought\nof them had died out in 1631, when Vesuvius, in a long unbroken sleep\nof one hundred and ninety-four years, had allowed six generations of\nNeapolitans to grow up and pass to their graves without any experience\nof its power. Earthquakes, explosions, flames, smoke, and streams of\nfire were all forgotten. Towns and villages, and gardens and\nvineyards, were dotting the base of the mountain or climbing its\npleasant and fertile slopes. And among the many charming scenes in the\nneighborhood of Naples, there were then none more sweet and charming\nthan those of the narrow tract between the city and Mount Vesuvius.\n\nSo it was on the morning of Tuesday, the 16th of December, 1631. Yet\nfair as was the scene on which the sun rose that day, it was to be\ngreatly changed ere night. Early in the morning, the citizens were\nstartled and somewhat alarmed by a very perceptible tremulousness of\nthe earth under their feet. It increased in violence as the hours\nrolled on, and the atmosphere too, December though it was, became\nsultry and close. The inhabitants of the beautiful villas and the\nfarmers and country laborers, who had felt the trembling of the earth\nand the closeness of the atmosphere more sensibly than the citizens,\nand who saw at once that it was caused by the mountain, commenced to\nflee with their families for safety into the city. About 9\nA.M. a cry of affright went up from the city and the country, as\nsuddenly the mountain shook and roared as if in agony. All eyes turned\nto the summit of Vesuvius, only yesterday so fair and green. A huge\nturbid column of smoke was seen swiftly springing upward from its cone\ntoward the sky. High up, it spread out like the top of a mighty pine\nor palm. The lightning flashed through this rolling, surging,\never-increasing mass as it rapidly expanded on every side. By 11\nA.M., Naples lay under the dark and fearful cloud which shut out\nthe heavens and darkened the day. The incessant trembling of the earth\nwas perceptibly increasing in violence. Men felt that they were at the\nbeginning of they knew not what terrible tragedy, before which they\nfelt themselves utterly powerless.\n\nThe ever-open churches were soon crowded with fear-stricken\nsuppliants. The cardinal archbishop at once directed religious\nservices to be commenced in them all, and to be continued without\nintermission. In the hours of the afternoon there would be a\nprocession through the streets near the cathedral, in which the relics\nof St. Januarius would be borne. Men prayed to be spared from the\nimpending doom. The trembling earth might open to swallow them; the\ntottering houses might fall and crush them; or the mountain, whose\nsullen roar, like that of an angry monster, they heard amid and above\nall other sounds, might destroy them in some other more fearful way.\nThey prayed and did penance, like the Ninivites of old. They sought to\nprepare their souls for the death which might come to many of them.        37\n\nTo the gloom and horrors of the dark cloud of smoke, spread as a\nfuneral pall over the city, was added, later in the day, a pouring\nrain. The water came down heated and charged with volcanic ashes.\nNight arrived, more terrible than the day. The continuous trembling of\nthe earth had indeed ceased; but, instead, there came sharp, quick\nshocks of earthquake, four or five of them every hour, vastly\nincreasing the danger of those who remained in their houses.\nOut-of-doors was the pouring rain and the intense darkness, rendered\nmore fearful by the intermittent electric flashings of the cloud\noverhead. The few oil-lamps in the streets gave little light; some had\nnot been lighted, others had been extinguished. The narrow streets\nsounded with shrieks of alarm and prayers for mercy. They were filled\nwith those who chose rather the darkness, the rain, and the mud under\nfoot, than the danger within their own chambers. And all through the\ncity might be descried entire families grouped together, and, by the\nlight of torches or lanterns, making their way to some church--for,\nall through the terrible hours of that long night, the churches still\nremained open and thronged, and the services still continued. Day came\nat length, if the dim, misty light could be called day. It brought no\nrelief beyond its saddening twilight. All hearts were depressed and\nfilled with gloomy forebodings. All felt that only by the mercy of God\ncould they be rescued.\n\nAt 10 A.M. there came two shocks of earthquake severer than any\nthat had preceded them. The waters of the bay twice receded, leaving a\nportion of the harbor bare, and twice rolled back furiously, rushing\nover the piers and quays, and passing into the lower streets of the\ncity. A hoarse and violent roar was heard from the mountain. It was\nsoon known that the sea of lava within its bowels had burst for itself\na channel-way out through the northern side, and was pouring down in a\nrapid stream, widening its front as it spread into seven branches, and\nadvancing directly towards the city. _Portici_ and _Resina_, near the\nmountain, or, rather, on its lower slope, were seen quickly to perish.\nPortions of Torre del Greco and of Torre dell\u2019Annunziata shared the\nsame fate. It seemed to the affrighted Neapolitans, as they looked on\nthe fiery streams pouring onward, resistless and inflexible, in their\ncourse of destruction, that death was coming to them by fire, more\nterrible far than death by water or by earthquake.\n\nMeanwhile, the hour at last arrived fixed for this day\u2019s procession.\nThe archbishop was to take part in it, and would himself bear the\nreliquary of the blood of St. Januarius. The clergy of the city would\nprecede and accompany him, and the municipal authorities would walk in\nprocession behind. Thousands were in the cathedral and would follow\nafter, and tens of thousands crowded the streets through which its\nroute lay. A common feeling filled all hearts alike; they prayed\nearnestly, if ever they did--for their lives, and their homes, their\nall was at stake.\n\nThe rain had ceased, but the dark cloud still hung overhead, and the\nashes were still falling, and the air was close and sulphurous. As the\nprocession issued from the cathedral, and while the archbishop stood\nyet in the square in front of it, a blaze of sunlight beamed around.\nThe sun itself they did not see, but his beams found some rift in the\nmass of smoke surging overhead, and struggled through, throwing, for a\nfew moments, a glow of golden effulgence down on the cathedral and the     38\nsquare, and the groups that stood or knelt within it. The effect was\nelectric. \u201cIt is a miracle! our prayers are heard!\u201d was the cry that\nburst from the multitude. In a few moments the light was gone; but,\nwith cheered and hopeful hearts, the procession moved on through the\ncrowded streets to the gate of the city, looking directly towards\nVesuvius and the advancing streams of lava. Here an altar had been\nprepared in the open air, psalms were chanted, prayers and litanies\nsucceeded, and the archbishop, ascending the steps of the altar, stood\non the platform, and, holding aloft the reliquary of the blood, made\nwith it the sign of the cross towards the blazing mountain, and all\nprayed that God, through the intercession of their great patron saint,\nwould avert the dreaded and dreadful calamity.\n\nEre the archbishop descended from the altar, all were aware that an\neast wind had sprung up, and that the smoke and cinders and ashes were\nbeing blown away over the sea. The mountain grew calmer, and at once\nceased to pour forth such immense supplies of molten lava. The dreaded\nstream, no longer fed from the copious fount, soon slackened its\nmovement--ceased to advance towards them--and, before their eyes, was\nseen to grow cold, and solid, and dark. When that procession, on its\nreturn, reached the cathedral, the sun was shining brightly and\ncheerfully. Well might they close with a solemn _Te Deum_, for Naples\nwas saved. Outside of the city, five thousand men, women, and children\nhad perished, and ruin was spread everywhere; within the city, not one\nbuilding had fallen, not one life had been lost.\n\nThe eruption continued for some months after, but in a moderated form.\nThe danger to the city was not renewed.\n\nTherefore, in 1632, and in each year since, the sixteenth of December\nhas been a memorable and a sacred day for Naples. It became the\nfestival of the _Patrocinio_, or Patronage of St. Januarius. For a\ncentury and a half, it was kept as a religious holy-day of strictest\nobligation. But the sense of gratitude dies out equally with the sense\nof dangers from which we escaped in the distant past. Whether this was\nthe cause, or whether it was deemed proper to yield to the so-called\nindustrial notions that have prevailed in more modern times, we cannot\nsay; but, for three-quarters of a century back, if we err not, this\nfestival in Naples ranks only as one of devotion. For a number of\nyears, its celebration was even transferred to the Sunday following.\nIn 1858, it was transferred back to the day itself, and is now\ncelebrated invariably on the sixteenth of December. On that day, the\nrelics are taken from their closet and borne to the altar of the\n_Tesoro_, and thence to the high altar of the cathedral. After Mass,\nand the recitation of a portion of the divine office, they are borne\nin solemn procession through several streets in the vicinity of the\ncathedral, and, on the return, are brought again to the high altar,\nwhere there is the exposition of the relics with the usual prayers;\nand the liquefaction is looked for for the _eighteenth_ regular time\neach year.\n\nIf the weather be rainy, the procession goes merely through the aisles\nand nave of the large cathedral and back to the high altar.\n\nThis feast has taken the place of another single-day festival,\nformerly celebrated on the fourteenth of January, and now merged in        39\nthis votive feast a month earlier.\n\nBeyond these ordinary and regularly established expositions, other\nspecial or extraordinary ones have been occasionally allowed,\nsometimes at the request of distinguished strangers, who visited\nNaples mostly in winter, and could not wait for the recurrence of the\nregular festival; sometimes to allow learned and scientific men,\nearnest in the cause of religion, to examine the liquefaction more\nclosely and quietly than they could do amid the concourse of so many\nthousands on the regular days; and, sometimes, for special and urgent\nreasons of devotion or public need, as was that of December 16, 1631,\nof which we have just given the account. These extraordinary\nexpositions were more frequent and more easily allowed two or three\ncenturies ago than in later years. In fact, the latest one of which we\ncan find any record occurred in 1702. Pope Pius IX. himself, during\nhis exile in Gaeta, near Naples, waited for a regular day--September\n20, 1849--to witness the liquefaction.\n\nOn a number of religious festivals during the year, it is customary to\ntake out the bust of St. Januarius, containing the relics of his head,\nand to place it, with other relics of the saints kept in the\ncathedral, on the altar. To do this, it is, of course, necessary that\nthe city delegate with his keys should be in attendance, and should\nco-operate with the canon or clergyman sent by the archbishop with his\nkeys. Together they open the closet in which, under two locks, is kept\nthe bust, and which, our readers will remember, is built in the\nmassive masonry wall of the _Tesoro_ chapel, immediately behind its\nmain altar, and adjoining the similar closet in which is preserved the\nreliquary with the ampull\u00e6, or vials, of the blood. As this reliquary\nof the blood is not to be taken out on these occasions, its closet is\nordinarily left untouched. But, in some rare instances, it has been\nopened, and due record made of the state in which the blood was then\nseen to be. At some other times, also, the door has been opened by\nspecial favor, that strangers might at least take a similar view, if\nthey could not be present at an exposition. We have the record of\nnineteen times altogether since 1648, when the door was opened for one\nor the other of these reasons, the last time being June 11, 1775, when\nthe blood was seen _hard_. However, as to the number of such minor\nexaminations, we apprehend that we should speak with some hesitation.\nThere may have been many more of which we have not just now at hand\nsufficient information.\n\nWe have spoken of the official diary of the _Tesoro_ chapel,\ncommencing in 1659, and of the archiepiscopal diary, commencing as a\ndiary in 1526, and both continuing, the latter with some _lacun\u00e6_ in\nits earlier portions, down to the present time. Of course, different\nhands have penned its pages as years rolled on; and it is curious and\namusing to note their differences of character as shown in their\nstyles. Even in so plain a matter as recording, day after day and year\nafter year, the state and condition of the blood when extracted from\nits closet, the occurrence and character of the liquefaction, the\nprominent or important facts of each day, and in what condition the\nblood was when replaced at night in its closet--points which it was\nthe duty of all to record--personal traits are unwittingly manifested.\nOne writer evidently was fond of ecclesiastical ceremonies, and he is      40\nexact in recording the character of the High Mass and of the\nprocessions: who and how many walked in them, how many altars were\nerected on the route through the streets, etc. Another was more of a\ncourtier, and he carefully mentions the presence of cardinals,\nviceroys, ambassadors, princes, and eminent personages. A third was\ndevoted to prayer, and his entries breathe his spirit of devotion in\nmany a pious ejaculation. One tells you of a new musical _Te Deum_\nthat was sung. Another had a painter\u2019s eye, and never fails to name,\nwith minute precision, the varying shades of color seen in the blood.\nAnother still, with more of a mathematical turn, is equally exact in\nsetting forth to the very minute the times of the liquefactions which\nhe records; while others, again, performed their duty in a more\nperfunctory style.\n\nOn the whole, these diaries are to us most interesting and unique, as\nwell for the length of time they cover, and the evident sincerity and\nearnestness of the writers in stating faithfully what they\nsaw--sometimes to their own astonishment or sorrow, sometimes with\njoy--as also for the wonderful character of the facts themselves which\nare recorded.\n\nOf the archiepiscopal diary, we possess a manuscript abstract, kindly\nwritten out for us. From its pages we have made a summary of all the\nexpositions of the blood of St. Januarius at Naples from the year 1648\nto 1860, which we present to our readers in tabular form. We group\nthem together in octaves, for the reasons already given, and because\nin that form several peculiarities are clearly seen which, perhaps,\notherwise would disappear.\n\nWe give, first, three tables for the vigil, feast, and octave in May.\nThe first one shows the state of the blood when taken out from its\ncloset, giving to each day a column, and recording in each column the\nvarious conditions of the blood, distinguishing them as: 1. Very hard;\n2. Hard; 3. Soft; 4. Liquid, with a hard lump in the liquid; 5. Hard\nand full; 6. Full, when, on account of that fulness, it could not be\nknown whether the dark mass of blood within was solid or fluid; 7.\nLiquid. A second table will set forth, under a similar arrangement,\nthe various lengths of time which elapsed from the taking out of the\nreliquary of the _ampulla_ from its closet until the liquefaction\nwas seen to commence. After enumerating the instances in which the\ntime is clearly determinable, another line indicates the times when\nthe liquefaction is set down as gradual, sometimes because the time\nwas not clearly seen, sometimes, perhaps, because the recording was\nperfunctory. We add another line, embracing the various occasions when\nthe diary either omits recording or indicating the time, or does so,\nvaguely or in such terms as \u201c_regular_, _very regular_,\n_promptly_, _punctually_, _most punctually_, _without unusual delay_,\n_without anything new_.\u201d We subjoin to this table other lines, showing\non what days and how often the blood remained always fluid; or always\nfluid with a hard floating lump; or always hard; or always full, and\nso full that liquefaction was not detected. A third table, similarly\narranged, will show in what condition the blood was when locked up at\nnight in its closet. We also give three similar tables for the feast\nand octave of September, and similar accounts for the December\nfestival and for the extraordinary expositions.\n\n           _May, 1648, to May, 1860, inclusive--213 Years._                41\n\n\n                              TABLE I.\n\n            STATE OF BLOOD AT THE OPENING OF THE CLOSET.\n\n  ---------------------+------+----+----+-----+----+-----+----+------+----\n         MAY.          |Satur.|Sun.|Mon.|Tues.|Wed.|Thur.|Fri.|Satur.|Sun.\n  ---------------------+------+----+----+-----+----+-----+----+------+----\n  Very hard            |   2  | -- |  1 |   1 |  2 |  -- |  2 |    2 |   2\n  Hard                 | 156  |119 |207 | 203 |168 | 139 |123 |  113 | 113\n  Soft                 |   4  |  8 |  1 |   3 |  2 |   5 |  3 |    7 |   6\n  Liquid, with hard lump|  40 | 74 | -- |  -- | -- |   1 | -- |   -- |  --\n  Hard and full        |   3  | -- | -- |   1 |  6 |   9 | 13 |   15 |  17\n  Full                 |  --  | -- | -- |   4 | 33 |  56 | 68 |   75 |  73\n  Liquid               |   8  | 12 |  4 |   1 |  2 |   3 |  4 |    1 |  --\n  ---------------------+------+----+----+-----+----+-----+----+------+----\n\n\n                              TABLE II.\n\n                    TIMES OF THE LIQUEFACTIONS.\n\n  -------------------+------+----+----+-----+----+-----+----+------+----\n         MAY.        |Satur.|Sun.|Mon.|Tues.|Wed.|Thur.|Fri.|Satur.|Sun.\n  -------------------+------+----+----+-----+----+-----+----+------+----\n  Under 10 minutes   |   88 | 67 | 85 |  44 | 27 |  23 | 18 |   16 | 16\n  Under 30   \u201d       |   49 | 28 | 63 |  73 | 46 |  46 | 44 |   35 | 37\n  Under 60   \u201d       |   18 |  9 |  8 |  36 | 42 |  25 | 19 |   17 | 13\n  Under 2 hours      |    5 |  4 |  2 |   1 |  5 |   6 |  5 |   11 |  7\n  Under 5    \u201d       |    1 |  7 | -- |  -- |  2 |   2 |  2 |    3 |  3\n  Over 5     \u201d       |    1 | -- |  1 |  -- | -- |  -- |  2 |    2 |  4\n  Gradual            |    1 | 40 | -- |  -- | -- |   1 | -- |   -- | --\n  Vague or omitted   |   26 | 45 | 54 |  55 | 54 |  52 | 51 |   53 | 56\n  Always liquid,     |      |    |    |     |    |     |    |      |\n      with hard lump |   17 |  1 | -- |  -- | -- |  -- | -- |   -- | --\n  Always full        |   -- | -- | -- |   4 | 33 |  56 | 68 |   75 | 73\n  Always hard        |    1 | -- | -- |  -- | -- |  -- | -- |   -- | --\n  Always liquid      |    6 | 12 | -- |  -- |  4 |   3 |  3 |    1 |  2\n  -------------------+------+----+----+-----+----+-----+----+------+----\n\n\n                             TABLE III.\n\n            STATE OF THE BLOOD WHEN LOCKED UP AT NIGHT.\n\n  ----------------------+-----+----+----+-----+----+-----+----+------+----\n         MAY.          |Satur.|Sun.|Mon.|Tues.|Wed.|Thur.|Fri.|Satur.|Sun.\n  ----------------------+-----+----+----+-----+----+-----+----+------+----\n  Liquid                | 131 |203 |204 | 174 |145 | 130 |122 |  121 |130\n  Liquid, with hard lump|  77 | 10 |  4 |  -- |--  | --  | -- |   -- | --\n  Liquid and full       |  -- | -- |  5 |  35 | 33 |  25 | 21 |   14 |  8\n  Full                  |  -- | -- | -- |   4 | 33 |  56 | 68 |   75 | 73\n  Soft                  |   3 | -- | -- |  -- |  1 |  -- | -- |    1 | --\n  Hard                  |   2 | -- | -- |  -- |  1 |   2 |  1 |    1 |  1\n  Hard and full         |  -- | -- | -- |  -- | -- |  -- |  1 |    1 |  1\n  ----------------------+-----+----+----+-----+----+-----+----+------+----\n\nThese tables present the course of the expositions for two hundred and\nthirteen times each of the nine days, in all, 1,917 expositions. They\ndo not set forth the changes in color, in frothing and ebullition, in\nminor increases or diminutions of volume, and in occasional\nhardenings, of all which we shall treat further on.\n\n\n        _From September, 1648, to September, 1860--212 Years._             42\n\n\n                              TABLE I.\n\n             STATE OF THE BLOOD ON OPENING THE CLOSET.\n\n  ---------------------------+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----\n         SEPTEMBER.          | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26\n  ---------------------------+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----\n  Hard                       | 117| 191| 190| 191| 187| 189| 191| 195\n  Hard and full, (_probable_)|  24|  --|  --|  --|  --|  --|  --|  --\n  Hard and full              |  58|  --|  --|  --|  --|   2|   1|   1\n  Soft                       |   1|  --|   1|  --|  --|   1|   1|  --\n  Full                       |  --|  --|   1|   1|   2|   2|   2|   2\n  Liquid                     |  12|  21|  20|  20|  23|  18|  17|  14\n  ---------------------------+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----\n\n\n                              TABLE II.\n\n                    TIMES OF THE LIQUEFACTIONS.\n\n  ----------------+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----\n     SEPTEMBER.   | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26\n  ----------------+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----\n  Under 10 minutes| 35 | 32 | 62 | 59 | 59 | 51 | 51 | 55\n  Under 30   \u201d    | 64 |101 | 78 | 76 | 78 | 83 | 79 | 84\n  Under 60   \u201d    | 19 | 24 | 17 | 21 | 10 | 18 | 21 | 15\n  Under 2 hours   | 19 |  4 |  5 |  4 |  8 |  4 |  8 |  7\n  Under 5   \u201d     | 27 | -- | -- |  1 |  1 |  2 |  2 | --\n  Over  5   \u201d     | 13 | -- | -- | -- | -- | -- | -- | --\n  Vague or omitted| 23 | 30 | 28 | 30 | 32 | 35 | 33 | 35\n  Always liquid   | 12 | 21 | 21 | 20 | 22 | 18 | 17 | 14\n  Always full     | -- | -- |  1 |  1 |  2 |  1 |  1 |  2\n  ----------------+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----\n\n\n                             TABLE III.\n\n            STATE OF THE BLOOD WHEN LOCKED UP AT NIGHT.\n\n  ---------------+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----\n  SEPTEMBER.     | 19  | 20  | 21  | 22  | 23  | 24  | 25  | 26\n  ---------------+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----\n  Liquid         | 212 | 211 | 211 | 210 | 206 | 208 | 209 | 202\n  Liquid and full|  -- |   1 |  -- |   1 |   3 |   3 |   2 |   8\n  Always full    |  -- |  -- |   1 |   1 |   2 |   1 |   1 |   2\n  Hard           |  -- |  -- |  -- |  -- |   1 |  -- |  -- |  --\n  ---------------+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+------\n\nThese tables give two hundred and twelve expositions for each day, and\nthus for the whole group a second aggregate of 1,696 expositions. They\ndo not, any more than the preceding ones, give an account of the\nchanges to which the blood is subject, in color, frothing, or minor\nincrease or decrease of volume. These points will be considered in\ntheir proper place.\n\nThe festival of the patronage on the 16th of December, established in\n1632, has been celebrated 228 times down to 1860.\n\nI. On opening the closet or safe the blood was found as follows:\n\n     Very hard,          2\n     Hard,             214\n     Soft,               1\n     Hard and full,     10\n     Liquid,             1-228\n\nII. The variations as to times of liquefaction were as follows:\n\n     Immediately or under half-hour,    26\n     Under 1 hour,                      29\n       \u201d   2   \u201d                        41\n       \u201d   5   \u201d                        42\n     Over 5 hours,                      26\n     Always hard,                       43\n       \u201d    full,                        3\n       \u201d    liquid,                      1\n     Vague or omitted,                  17-228\n\nIII. The condition of the blood, when put up, was as follows:              43\n\n     Liquid,            131\n       \u201d    with lump,   46\n     Soft,                5\n     Hard as found,      43\n     Full,                3-228\n\nThe extraordinary expositions were 43 in number. Of these 20 may be\ngrouped with the December exposition, having occurred in the months of\nNovember, December, January, and February.\n\nThe blood was found: Very hard, 1; hard, 13; soft, 5; and liquid, 1.\nThe times of liquefaction were: Under 10 minutes, 15 times; under 30\nminutes, 1; under 5 hours, 1; remaining liquid, 1. Of course, on all\nthe 20 days it was put up liquid.\n\nNineteen days may be in the same way connected with the May\ncelebration, as they are distributed through the months of March,\nApril, May, and June.\n\nThe blood was found: Very hard, 1; hard, 13; soft, 4; liquid, 1. The\ntimes of the liquefaction were: Under 10 minutes, 10 times; under 30\nminutes, 3; under 60 minutes, 1; under 2 hours, 1; under 5 hours, 1;\ntime not indicated in the diary, 2; and it remained liquid, 1. On\nevery occasion it was put up in a liquid condition.\n\nFour other times there were extraordinary expositions in July and\nSeptember. Twice the blood was found hard and liquefied within half an\nhour each time, and twice it was found liquid.\n\nNineteen instances are recorded in which for various reasons the\ncloset was opened and the reliquary seen in its place. Four times the\nblood was found very hard; six times it was hard; twice it was soft;\nfour times it was liquid, and three times the condition is not\nrecorded.\n\nThese tables present an aggregate of no less than 3,884 expositions\nwithin a little more than two centuries, of which number no less than\n3,331 were marked by a complete or partial liquefaction. The\nexceptions are of various classes. The most numerous one comprises 320\ncases, in which the ampulla, or vial, was found in the morning and\ncontinued during the entire exposition of that day so completely full,\nthat it was impossible for an ordinary observer to say whether the\nblood liquefied or not.\n\nThe writer of the diary says on this point, A.D. 1773: \u201cWhen the\nvial is full, some signs are at times observed indicative of a\nliquefaction, chiefly a wave-like motion when the vial is moved. But\nas this can only be seen from the rear (that is, as the light shines\non it or through it from the opposite side), and only on close\ninspection and by practised eyes, and is not visible to ordinary\nobservers standing in front, it is not here noted down as a\nliquefaction.\u201d In the diary of the _Tesoro_ chapel, which we cannot\nnow consult, they are probably recorded as liquefactions.\n\nThe next largest class of exceptions consists of the 171 cases in\nwhich the blood was found liquid in the morning, and was replaced in\nthe closet in the evening still in a liquid condition. We should\nobserve that not unfrequently in such cases the fluid mass became\ncongealed or even hard during the day and liquefied again. Even when\nthis does not happen, there are so many other and frequent changes as\nto color, to frothing, or to ebullition, and to change of volume by\nincrease or decrease, that, even without the occurrence of\nliquefaction, the fluid blood presents many wonderful characteristics.\nThus in our synopsis we have counted the octave of September, 1659, as\npresenting seven days during which the blood was found and remained\nliquid. The diary, taking up that octave day by day, states, that on       44\nthe 19th of September the blood was found liquid, and, the reliquary\nbeing placed near the bust, there commenced an ebullition of the blood\nmarked with froth. This continued, off and on, during the day. On the\n20th the blood was again found liquid, and the ebullition and the\nfrothing were repeatedly renewed as on the preceding day. On the 21st\nthe blood was a third time found liquid, and on this day the\nebullition was more continuous and violent. The 22d and the 23d and\nthe 24th were marked by the same phases. The blood was always found\nliquid, and each day the ebullition was repeatedly resumed and\nsometimes was violent. On the 26th the blood was found in a soft or\njelly-like state. It soon liquefied entirely, and during the day\nbecame covered with froth. The 26th--the eighth and last day--was like\nthe first. The blood was again found liquid, and the ebullition was\nresumed, yet more moderately.\n\nThe two remaining classes, which our tables present as exceptions,\nwill also suffer diminution if accurately examined. There are 44\ninstances in which the blood was found _hard_, and continued hard to\nthe end of the exposition. Yet the diary records on several occasions\nthe presence of one or more fluid drops, sometimes of yellowish serum,\nsometimes of reddish blood, which could be made to run to and fro on\nthe surface of the hardened mass, and continued to be seen for hours,\nor sometimes even until the close of the day.\n\nAs for the 18 other instances in which the blood was found partly\nliquid and partly solid, the solid part floating as a globe in the\nfluid portion, and in which the same state of things was seen during\nthe day and lasted until the closing, it must be observed that\ngenerally, if not always, this floating solid mass gradually\ndiminishes by a partial liquefaction or increases in bulk by a partial\nhardening. Sometimes both these changes succeed each other during the\nday. In view of these facts, it would seem that these 18 cases, so far\nfrom being looked on as exceptions, should on the contrary be rather\nset down as special forms of the liquefaction.\n\nNo mere tabular summaries, like those presented above, can give the\nsalience which they demand to certain unusual facts and to many\nordinary but striking characteristics which should not be overlooked.\nFor this it is necessary to go back to the diaries themselves, and to\ntrustworthy historical notices of the miracle.\n\nOn Saturday, May 5, 1526, the vigil of the feast of the translation,\nthe liquefaction is recorded to have taken place as usual in the\n_Seggia Capuana_, to which the processions were directed that day. On\nthe next day, the feast, the blood was found hard, and it continued\nhard during the entire exposition. The octave had not yet been\nestablished. It continued hard all through the octave of the\nsucceeding September, as also in January, May, and September of 1527,\nand again in January, May, and September of 1528, and in January,\n1529. The liquefactions were resumed on Saturday, May 1, and continued\non the next day, the feast, and regularly during the September\ncelebration. Thus, for nearly three years the blood remained hard and\nsolid, without liquefying at any time.\n\nThe Neapolitans connect this unusual fact with the anger of God and\nhis judgments, as manifested in the terrible pestilence which broke\nout in their city in 1526, and came to an end only in the early months\nof 1529, after causing 60,000 deaths in the single year 1527, and,         45\ntogether with the war then raging, as many more in the ensuing year\n1528.\n\nAgain, in 1551, in 1558, and in 1569, there was no liquefaction. On\nthe contrary, for the two years 1556 and 1557, and again for the two\nyears 1599 and 1600, and a third time for the single year 1631, the\nblood was always found liquid when brought forth for exposition, and\nnever at any time was seen to become solid. Since the last-named year,\nit has occurred, in ten different years, that the blood was found and\ncontinued liquid during the whole of a single octave in a year; but\nnever in both octaves. It never continued hard for an entire octave at\nany time, although at some few times the liquefaction occurred only on\nthe second, the third, or the fourth day of the celebration; or, on\nthe contrary, it was found and continued liquid for one, two, or three\ndays at the commencement, and was found hard only on the second,\nthird, or fourth morning. At the votive festival of December 16, it\nhas repeatedly remained hard. The table numbers 44 such cases. Of\nthese only 5 occurred in the first 150 years after the institution of\nthe feast; the remaining 39 all occur in the last 78 years. This the\nNeapolitans explain by the special character of the festival. The\nother festivals have been instituted in honor of the saint; this one,\nto show their gratitude as a city for favors received repeatedly\nthrough his intercession. Hence, when vice is rife in the city, and\nespecially when sins against religion abound, their professions of\ngratitude are wanting in the most necessary quality to make them\nacceptable; and the displeasure of heaven is marked by the withholding\nof the miraculous liquefaction.\n\nDepartures like these from the ordinary course, or any extraordinary\ndelay in the liquefaction, or certain appearances of color in the\nblood, which they traditionally dread, fill the people with alarm and\nsorrow. From the many instances in the diary we give two, as showing\nthis practical connection between the liquefaction and the religious\nfeelings of the Neapolitans.\n\n\u201c1732, Dec. 16.--The blood was taken out, hard. Hard it continued\nuntil after compline (the afternoon service). The people were waiting\nfor the miracle with great anxiety. Wherefore, instead of taking back\nthe relics (to the _Tesoro_ chapel) at the usual hour, they remained\non the high altar (of the cathedral) until after 21 o\u2019clock (2.30 P.M.);\nand the church being crowded with people, they recited the litanies\nseveral times. Rosaries were said, and sermons were preached. But the\nsaint did not yield, which caused great terror; and everybody was\nweeping. So things were up to 24 o\u2019clock (5.30 P.M.) At that hour, a\nCapuchin father in the church again stirred up the people to sincere\ncontrition for their sins, and to acts of penance. While they were\ndoing this, all saw that the blood was of a sudden entirely\nliquefied--a great consolation to all. The _Te Deum_ was sung; and\nthen, only at half-past one of the night (7 P.M.), the relics were\ntaken to the _Tesoro_ chapel.\u201d\n\n\u201c1748, May 7, Tuesday.--The blood was brought out hard. After 16\nminutes, it liquefied. During the day it rose so high as to fill the\nvial completely. From the 8th to the 12th, the vial was always full,\nand the blood was seen to be one-half black, the other half\nash-colored, for which reasons his majesty came a second time to see\nit, on Sunday afternoon (12th). When the king had left the\n_Tesoro_, his eminence returned to pray to the saint to vouchsafe some\nsign of the miracle before the closing up (it was the last day of          46\nthe octave). In the meantime the vast crowd strove to melt him by\ntheir cries and their tears. His eminence, having made his way out of\nthe chapel with great difficulty, sent for a noble Capuchin, called\nFather Gregorio of Naples, who, in a most fervent sermon, exhorted the\npeople to acts of faith and of sorrow for their sins. He then\ncommenced reciting with them the Litany of the Blessed Virgin. During\nthe recitation thereof, the blood was seen to sink half a finger, and\nto commence to move. Who can describe the weeping and the fervor? The\n_Te Deum_ was sung; and the blood was put up, being at nearly its\nnormal level, of its natural color, and with some froth.\u201d\n\nNo wonder the Neapolitans love St. Januarius as _their_ patron saint\nwhen he thus yields to their fervent entreaties and prayers what was\nnot granted to the pious curiosity of the king; nor, for this occasion\nat least, to the prayers of his eminence the cardinal archbishop.\n\nThe following briefer entries of our diary breathe the same spirit:\n\n\u201c1714, May 5, Saturday.--The miracle took place at once. On Sunday,\nafter an hour and a half. During this octave, the blood showed a\nthousand changes, liquefying, hardening, and increasing in volume many\ntimes a day, in an unusual manner. God knows what will happen!\u201d\n\n\u201c1718, Sept. 19.--The blood was taken out hard. After a quarter of an\nhour, it completely liquefied. During all this octave the miracle\nnever delayed as much as an hour. This was truly a happy octave. There\nwere no great changes; only a slight increase in volume.\u201d\n\nIt is tantalizing to pore over the diary. At times you almost fancy\nthat you have seized the very process of liquefaction. Thus on one day\nyou read: \u201cThe blood was brought out, being hard and at its ordinary\nlevel. After fifteen minutes, a drop of serous humor, of a\nlight-yellow color, was seen to move about on the hard mass. At the\nexpiration of an hour and fifty-six minutes, the blood became liquid,\nwith a large spherical lump floating in it. There was the usual\nprocession through the streets, his eminence joining in. At 21\u00bd\no\u2019clock (about 3 P.M.) the lump liquefied. The blood was put up,\nentirely liquid and at its ordinary level.\u201d (Dec., 1771.) You think\nyou see the steps of the process. First the drop of yellowish serum;\nthen a partial liquefaction, leaving a lump of solid matter; this\ngradually decreasing for three hours and a half, until it entirely\ndisappears, and the whole mass is fluid. If you read the following,\nyou may feel surer that you are on the right track: \u201cThe blood came\nout hard and at its ordinary level. At the end of half an hour, there\nwas seen to run about on the hard mass a particle of serous matter,\ninclining to a yellowish color. So it stood during the procession,\nwhich was outside, through the streets, his eminence the cardinal\narchbishop taking his place in it. So it was when the reliquary was\nbrought back to the _Tesoro_. At 23\u00bd o\u2019clock (about 5 P.M.) this\nserous matter changed into blood. But the mass still remained hard.\nWords cannot tell with what earnestness and fervor the ecclesiastics\nand the people continued at prayer. Finally, at 24\u00bc o\u2019clock (5.45 P.M.)\nthe mass loosened in the vial; and half an hour later, that is, after\neight hours and fifty minutes of waiting, the liquefaction took place,\na small lump remaining solid and floating. So it was put up.\u201d (Dec.,       47\n1768.) Notwithstanding the change of the character of the yellowish\nserous drop in the last cited instance into red blood, and the great\ndifference of the times when the liquefaction took place, there is a\ncertain degree of correspondence between the two cases--enough perhaps\nto arrest the attention and excite expectations. But all to no\npurpose. Such a drop was seen on seven or eight other days, lasting a\ncouple of hours or for the entire day, without any liquefaction\nfollowing. And in three thousand three hundred and odd cases of\nliquefaction, we have failed to find a third one in which such a drop\nis noted to have preceded the liquefaction.\n\nIn fact, the modes of liquefaction are as various as we can imagine,\nand as remarkable as the fact itself. Sometimes the liquefaction\noccurs or commences at once, with little or no delay. At other times,\nit is delayed for a quarter or for half an hour, for one, two, or\nthree hours or more. Sometimes, though very rarely, it has been\ndelayed nine or ten hours. All this is clearly seen in the tables.\n\nNot unfrequently the change from solidity to fluidity, whether\noccurring early or late, has been instantaneous, and for the whole\nmass at once--_in un colpo d\u2019occhio_. Sometimes it is gradual, lasting\nbefore its completion over many hours; nay, sometimes the ampulla is\nreplaced in the closet for the night before its entire completion, a\ngreater or a smaller portion still remaining solid.\n\nSometimes the entire mass liquefies; at other times, only a portion.\nWhen this is the case, the unliquefied portion generally floats as a\nsolid lump or globe in the liquid part. Sometimes, however, one side\nof the mass was liquefied; while the other remained solid, and firmly\nattached to the glass. Sometimes again, as in May, 1710, the portion\nnext to the glass all around remained solid, thus forming, as it were,\nan inner cup, inside of which the other portion moved about in quite a\nfluid condition. Sometimes, during the process of gradual\nliquefaction, the upper part is quite liquid, while the lower part\nremains for a time hard and immovable in the bottom of the vial; or,\nagain, the lower part liquefies first, and the upper portion,\nremaining hard, is seen either as a floating globe or as a lump\nattached for a time to the sides of the ampulla. And once, at least,\nthe upper portion and the lower portion both remained solid and\nattached to the vial, while the middle portion was quite fluid.\n\nWe have already said something of the various degrees of liquefaction.\nSometimes the blood is as fluid as water, flowing readily and leaving\nno coating after it on the glass. And, at other times, it may be\nsomewhat viscous; and, if the reliquary be inclined from side to side,\nmay leave behind a dark or a vermilion film on the inner sides of the\nampulla.\n\nThere are likewise degrees of hardness. Sometimes the blood is only\nvery viscous and grumous, or jelly-like. In the tables we call it\n_soft_. At other times, the diary notes it as hard, _duro_; very hard,\n_durissimo_; or even hard as iron, _duro come ferro_. When hard, it is\nattached firmly to the glass ampulla. Yet on two occasions, at least,\nthe hard lump could move within, showing that it was then detached.\n\nAfter having become liquid, or even when the blood was found liquid in\nthe morning, it has often hardened during the ceremonial of the day,\nand then liquefied anew. One of the extracts we have quoted above\nrefers to the frequent occurrence of this variation in 1714. But           48\nthroughout the diary we find similar instances, where it hardened and\nremained hard for a few moments only or for one or two hours, during\nthe public ceremony. This was sometimes repeated two or three times in\na single day.\n\nThere is a special case, in which the mass hardens so frequently, and\nwith such regularity, that it must not be omitted. We refer to the\ncustom of suspending the ceremony for a few hours during the middle of\nthe day. The Italians are very fond of a _siesta_ in the early\nafternoon of a hot and oppressive summer day. Accordingly, unless\nthere be something unusual to excite them, they are accustomed, on the\nlater days of the octave in May, and sometimes of September, to yield\nto their beloved habit. The church grows very thin soon after mid-day.\nA few dozen pious souls may perhaps remain for their private\ndevotions--about the number one would almost always find in the\never-open churches of an Italian city. Under these circumstances, the\nexposition is suspended. The reliquary, if on the high altar of the\ncathedral, is carried back to the _Tesoro_ chapel, and is placed on an\nornamental stand or tabernacle on the altar; and a silk veil is thrown\nover the whole. The door in the metal-work railing under the arch\nleading out into the cathedral is locked; and the clergy may retire,\none or two remaining on watch. The reliquary continues on the stand,\nunapproached, but still visible, through the railing, to those in the\ncathedral. At 3\u00bd or 4 P.M. the clergy return to resume the exposition;\nand the church is again full. The blood is very frequently found hard\nat that hour, and liquefies anew, as in the morning. This intermission\nand the attendant hardening and liquefaction seem to the Neapolitans\nso much a matter of course that we find no mention whatever of it in\nthe diary, save the single notice that, on one day, although the veil\nhad been omitted, the hardening nevertheless took place. The\nscientific men from Italy and from France and Belgium who have studied\nthe liquefaction at various dates, all unite in commenting on this\nfact of the hardening of the blood during these mid-day intermissions,\nand in considering it, under a physical point of view, as a fact of\nthe highest importance in deciding the character of the liquefaction.\n\nThere are other special circumstances under which the blood has not\nliquefied, or, having liquefied, has suddenly hardened again. The\npresence of open scoffers, or of declared enemies of the church, has\nsometimes seemed to have this effect. In 1719, Count Ulric Daun was\nviceroy in Naples. On Saturday, May 6, he came with many German\nofficers lately arrived in Naples to witness the liquefaction, in one\nof the churches to which the procession went, as we have already\nexplained, and in which the liquefaction was first expected. The\nviceroy with his personal staff was of course in his official\n_loggia_ or gallery. The foreign officers were clustered together\nwithin the sanctuary. Some of them were Catholics, some Protestants.\nThe blood was hard when brought to the altar, and remained hard and\nunliquefied for a long time. The viceroy at length sent an aid, with a\ncommand to all the officers to withdraw and stand outside the\nsanctuary. They obeyed, of course. \u201cScarcely was this done--the\nheretic officers thus withdrawing--when, in an instant, the entire\nmass became perfectly liquid, to the great joy of all. It was a\nmiracle of miracles!\u201d Some of the Protestants became Catholics             49\nimmediately.\n\n_Putignani_ and _Celano_ mention another fact. We quote from the\nformer, who was a canon of the cathedral and present at the time on\nservice. \u201cWhile the relics were out at the high altar of the\ncathedral, there came many nobles from beyond the Alps, who wished to\ndo homage to the saint and to witness the liquefaction. The blood was\nextremely fluid just then, and the reliquary was being presented to\nthose around, in turn, to be kissed. In an instant the blood became\nhard and dry in the hands of the canon. Those near by, stupefied by\nthis new prodigy, stood, as it were, nailed to the floor. Then the\ncanon, moved by an interior impulse, raised his voice, and said aloud:\n\u2018Gentlemen, if there be any heretic among you, let him retire.\u2019\nImmediately, one of the strangers quietly withdrew. Scarcely had he\nwithdrawn, when the blood was liquid again, and was bubbling.\u201d\nPutignani adds: \u201cThe same thing is said to have happened on other\noccasions.\u201d\n\n                          TO BE CONTINUED.\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n                           LUCAS GARCIA.\n\n                FROM THE SPANISH OF FERNAN CABALLERO.\n\n\n                                II.\n\n\nSeven years passed in this manner. Lucia was fifteen, and had\nblossomed into one of those exquisite and fragile creatures that, in\nhot climates, appear so rarely and vanish so soon. Lucas, who was\ntwenty, had developed admirably. He was a youth of manly appearance,\nand so judicious and industrious that farmers and managers of\nhaciendas employed him in preference to others. Both inherited their\nmother\u2019s type--the oval face, fine aquiline nose, large and expressive\nblack eyes, small mouth, adorned with perfect teeth, broad high\nforehead, and the bearing of mingled grace and nobility that\ndistinguish the Andalusian.\n\nTheir father had yielded completely to the influence of _La Leona_,\nwho absorbed his living, and had made him a drunkard in order to rule\nhim the more effectually. Too enervated and lazy to enter upon a new\npath, he went on selling his possessions to satisfy the woman\u2019s\nexactions, as an exhausted stream continues to flow in the channel it\nmade when it was full and strong, without either the will or the force\nto open another. From the time that Lucas was able to work, he had\nmaintained the house alone, with that mysterious day\u2019s wages of the\nlaborer which God seems to bless, as he did the loaves and fishes\ndestined to feed so many poor people. Else, how the _peseta_,\nsometimes two reals[2] a day can support husband, wife, generally half\na dozen robust children; an old father or mother, or widowed\nmother-in-law, clothe them all and the head of the family in a very\nexpensive manner,[3] pay house-rent and the costs of child-birth,          50\nsickness, and unemployed days; and still yield the copper they never\nrefuse to _God\u2019s-namers_,[4] is a thing past comprehension, and\nbelongs to the list of those in which, if we see not the finger of God\nor his immediate intervention, is because we are very thoughtless or\nvoluntarily blind.\n\nLucas, who loved his sister above all things, seeing her entirely\nneglected by her father, had assumed over her the sort of tutelage,\nrecognized and incontestable among the people, which belongs to the\neldest brother--a tutelage which is annexed to the obligation of\nmaintaining younger brothers and sisters if they are fatherless. This\nobligation and right instinctive do not constitute a law, nor are they\nlaid down in any code, but are impressed by tradition on the heart,\nand have, no doubt, given rise to the institution of entails.[5] Lucas\npresented, also, the uncultivated type of those chivalrous and\npoetical brothers that Calderon, Lope, and other contemporary writers\nhave given us in their delightful pictures of Spanish manners as\nmodels of nobility, delicacy, and punctilious honor.\n\nAs for Lucia, she was, as her mother had been, loving, impressible,\nand yielding. She regarded her brother with the deepest affection, in\nwhich respect mingled, without lessening its tenderness.\n\nOne evening, when several neighbors, who tenanted Juan Garcia\u2019s house,\nwere met together in the yard, one of them--it was the kinswoman of\nthe departed Ana--said:\n\n\u201cHave you heard the news? It is reported that _La Leona\u2019s_ husband is\ndead. What do you say to it?\u201d\n\n\u201cThat _La Leona_ is just now singing:\n\n     \u2018My spouse is dead, and to heaven has flown,\n      Wearing the thorns of a martyr\u2019s crown,\u2019\u201d\n\nreplied one of the neighbors.\n\n\u201cThere will be talk enough, woman, if it is true,\u201d replied the first\nspeaker.\n\n\u201cWell, what do you want me to say? I feel it for one.\u201d\n\n\u201cI feel it for _two_,\u201d added a third, laughing.\n\n\u201cThat is what I feel most,\u201d continued the kinswoman. \u201cIt is reported\nalready that Juan Garcia is going to marry with the rag of a widow.\u201d\n\nWoman! will you hold your tongue?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo; and I say more: I say that I don\u2019t doubt it; for the wretch has\nhim down, and holds him from beneath, so that she can put him to the\ntorture with \u201cthou must swallow this, or I will lay on thee with\nthat.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cTrue enough,\u201d observed the other, \u201cshe has made a fool of him with\ndrink; and, not satisfied with giving him wine, which is natural and       51\nthe legitimate child of the soil, she poisons him with bad brandy.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe kite will get everything away from him by degrees, till she\nleaves him stuck, like a star lizard, to the bare wall,\u201d added\nanother; \u201cfor she is more covetous than greediness, that \u2018walks one\nhand along the ground, and the other in the sky, and, with its mouth\nwide open, that nothing may go by.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cShe\u2019ll be Juan\u2019s third wife, and may die like the other two, and the\nfour children he has under the sod. He must have some deadly\nexhalation about him, like a snake.\u201d\n\n\u201cKill _La Leona_! As if that would be possible! It\u2019s my opinion that\nDeath himself couldn\u2019t do it, with a century to help him. There was\nthe cholera, that carried off so many good people; it never approached\nher door.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe she-rake has no end of luck.\u201d\n\nAt this moment Lucas entered. It was Saturday evening, and he had come\nto spend the Sunday at home.\n\n\u201cLucas,\u201d asked his kinswoman, \u201cdo you know that _La Leona_ is a widow,\nand they say that your father is going to marry her?\u201d\n\nA thunder-bolt could not have hurt Lucas more suddenly than did these\nwords; nevertheless, he maintained his composure while he answered:\n\n\u201cEither you are dreaming awake, Aunt Manuela, or age is getting the\nbetter of your understanding.\u201d\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t fling my age into my face, _Luquecillo_,\u201d[6] said the good\nwoman, who was jocose. \u201cI would rather you called me sly fox; it is\npermitted to say _old_ only in the company of wines and parchments.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, then, why were you born so long ago? But don\u2019t come to me with\nyour troubles.\u201d\n\n\u201cPublish your decrees in time, my son, for this one is in everybody\u2019s\nmouth.\u201d\n\n\u201cThey may say what they please behind my back. Regiments can\u2019t capture\ntongues and thoughts, but no one is going to speak against my father\nwhen I am present.\u201d\n\n\u201cI\u2019ll lay you something, Lucas, that he\u2019ll marry!\u201d\n\n\u201cThat will do, Aunt Manuela; you know the saying, \u2018Stop jesting while\njesting is pleasant.\u2019\u201d\n\nLike all men of stem nature, Lucas, when in earnest, had in him a\nsomething that imposed respect: the women were silent, and he went\ninto his own dwelling.\n\nHe did not speak to his sister of the matter that occupied his\nthoughts so painfully, but, after giving her the money he had brought,\nremained a while talking cheerfully and affectionately with her, and\nthen went in search of his neighbor, Uncle Bartolo.\n\nHe knew that the guerilla, on account of his age and good judgment,\nand because he had been his grandfather\u2019s friend, exercised great\ninfluence over his father, and could think of no one so suitable to\nconfide in, and implore to interfere in the matter, and dissuade Juan\nGarcia, if, indeed, he entertained it, from such an outrageous\nproject.\n\n\u201cHola! What brings _Luquillo_ with the step of a Catalan and face of a\nblacksmith?\u201d exclaimed the old man, as Lucas entered.\n\nThe youth told his errand.\n\nUncle Bartolo, having heard him to the end, shook his head, as he\nremarked: \u201cLucas, the proverb says, \u2018Between two millstones one had\nbest not put his thumbs;\u2019 but--well, for your sake and Lucia\u2019s, the\npretty dove! I will do what you ask, even if I lose--and I shall, for\ncertain--your father\u2019s friendship. I tell you though, beforehand           52\nthat interference will do no good.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut, uncle, that which is never attempted is never done.\u201d\n\n\u201cHave I not told you I would try? You shall never say that you sought\nme and did not find me. I only want to remind you that counsels are\nthrown away upon the foolhardy, and perfumes upon swine. And to tell\nthe truth, I would rather tackle one of those highwaymen of last year\nthan your father; notwithstanding that the she-bandit has taken and\ndone for him as easily as a spider would vanquish a fly.\u201d\n\nOur old warrior went, the next day, to see Juan Garcia, whom he found\nindisposed.\n\n\u201cHola! Juan,\u201d he cried, as he entered, how are you?\u201d\n\n\u201cNot so well as I might be, uncle,\u201d responded the invalid. \u201cAnd you?\u201d\n\n\u201cAs well as can be, since I am a man of the old times, and not sorry\nfor it: better suited beneath white hairs than white sheets. But,\u201d\ncontinued the guerilla, who in his long career had never studied\ndiplomacy nor learned the art of preambling, \u201clet us come to the\npoint; for one needn\u2019t go by the bush where there\u2019s a high-road; they\ntell me, though I don\u2019t want to believe it, that you are going to\nmarry.\u201d\n\nJuan contracted his brows, and replied:\n\n\u201cAnd if I have never told any one so, how could they tell it to you?\u201d\n\n\u201cAnswer one question with another, to avoid committing thyself,\u201d is a\nrule of rustic grammar that the people have at their fingers\u2019 ends.\nUncle Bartolo proceeded:\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s easy to see how; you are thinking of it; and people nowadays are\nso sharp that they divine the thoughts. So that we may as well be\nplain--it is what you mean to do. Tell the truth, now.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe truth!\u201d responded Juan, availing himself of another subterfuge.\n\u201cThen, though--because I was not prepared to tell it--I have not\ncomplied with the church this year, I am to tell it to you! No, sir!\n\u2018He that reveals his secret, remains without it.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is plain enough from your crafty answer that your mind is made up.\nSo you needn\u2019t deny it, nor put me off with palaver.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe thing is yet in the blade, and to be nibbled at,\u201d replied Juan.\n\n\u201cDo you know, Christian, what you are about? For the beginning of a\ncure is a knowledge of the sickness.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, sir, I have my five senses counted.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, Juan, four of them useless, and one empty. But, my son, you know\nme well, is it not so?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, sir.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are sure that I am your friend?\u201d\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t say no to that, Uncle Bartolo.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd you know the proverb says, \u2018An old ox draws a straight furrow\u2019?\u201d\n\n\u201cAgreed, Uncle Bartolo; we know that kind of wisdom years give, for we\nare told that the devil is knowing not because of his devilship, but\nbecause he is the _old one_.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, that being so, you will heed what I say.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat remains to be seen.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd you will consider my advice?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat is the meaning of all this advanced guard, Uncle Bartolo? Why do\nyou sift and sift without falling through the sieve?\u201d\n\n\u201cTo fall with all my weight in saying this, and no more: \u2018Don\u2019t you\nmarry, Juan Garcia!\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy not? if you would please tell me.\u201d                                    53\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t marry, Juan Garcia!\u201d\n\n\u201cUncle Bartolo, don\u2019t leave your counsels like foundlings in the\nhospital, without father or mother. I must not marry-the reason?\u201d\n\n\u201cJuan, \u2018where there has been familiarity, let there be no contract.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cIf it were as you intimate, I ought to marry; for, if this woman has\nlost respect through me--\u201d\n\n\u201cStop, Juan; that\u2019ll do! Don\u2019t come to me with your \u2018_mea culpas_.\u2019\nThere is always a pretext for wrong-doing. But you know very well that\nthe woman has not lost respect through you. Nobody loses what he never\nhad.\u201d\n\n\u201cUncle Bartolo, by what I shave off, but that you comb gray hairs, and\nwere my father\u2019s friend--_Vive Dios!_--\u201d\n\n\u201cTut, tut, man! Don\u2019t get excited, and talk nonsense! I did not come\nhere to poke you up, nor to pick a quarrel, but with a very good\nintention; and, as the friend I am to you, to prevent your making an\natrocious fool of yourself. Have you considered your children, and the\nkind of step-mother you are going to give them?\u201d\n\n\u201cIf she will be a wife good enough for their father, it appears to me\nthat she will be a good enough step-mother for them; especially as,\nwhere they are concerned, what I do is right.\u201d\n\n\u201cRight! Now you are like the Englishman, Don \u2018Turo, that killed an\nurraca for a partridge, and then said \u2018all right.\u2019 Take notice, Juan,\nthat they are not likely to be willing to live under that woman\u2019s\nflag. You are going to alienate them from you, and, \u2018withdraw thyself\nfrom thine own, God will leave thee alone.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cThey will not be willing to live under her! What are you saying, sir?\nWe shall see, however. \u2018Where the sea goes, the waves go.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, Juan, we shall see that Lucas, who is high-minded, will not\nconsent to let his sister live with a woman of evil note.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe note I have put upon her, I will take from her. Do you\ncomprehend? And Lucas will be very careful not to set himself up to\ncrow while I live. There cannot be two heads, and, \u2018in sight of the\npublic stocks, street-criers keep their mouths shut.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cThink, Juan, that your son should be the staff of your old age. You\nmay provoke him so far that he will leave you some day without\nwarning.\u201d\n\n\u201cLet him go; I have the means to maintain myself, and my wife and\ndaughter.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! Juan, what have you left? Juice don\u2019t run out of a sucked orange.\nAs if that woman had not swallowed your slice of field and olive-yard,\nleaving you nothing but the house; and that will go the same way the\nfield and orchard went. As for making a living--you have thrown\nyourself away; your back is getting stiff already, and \u2018to old age\ncomes no fairy godmother.\u2019 Where, then, are those \u2018means\u2019 to come\nfrom? What you are going to do is get entangled in debts; and, let a\nman be as honest as he will, \u2018if he owes and doesn\u2019t pay, all his\ncredit flies away.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201c_La Leona_ has a gossip at the port that is a contrabandist; he is\ngoing to take me for a partner.\u201d\n\n\u201c_Only this was wanting!_\u201d exclaimed the old man indignantly. \u201c_You!\nyou take to the path!_[7] Does Barabbas tempt you, Juan Garcia? Have\nyou lost your senses entirely, or are you fooling me? Sure enough,         54\n\u2018he that goes with wolves will learn to howl.\u2019 Don\u2019t you know that the\ndevil takes honest gains and dishonest, and the gainer with them? But\nlet us keep to the matter in hand. Juan, the woman has a bad name that\nneither you nor the king, if he tried, could take from her. She is bad\nof herself; and neither you nor the bishop, if he set his heart on\ndoing it, could make her good. Moreover, \u2018a rotten apple spoils its\ncompany.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cGo on with the bad! \u2018Against evil-speaking there\u2019s nothing strong\u2019;\nbut, if she appears good to me, we are all paid.\u201d\n\n\u201cJuan, \u2018look before you leap.\u2019 You have not the excuse of youth for\nyour indiscretion; you are more than forty years old.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd have more than forty _arrobas_[8] of patience, Uncle Bartolo.\n_Candela!_ I have long sought and never found a friend that would\noffer me a sixpence, and have found, without seeking, one that gives\nme advice.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, my son, your soul is in your palm,\u201d said Uncle Bartolo, rising.\n\u201cRemember that there was not wanting a friend to give you good\nadvice--a man of ripe brain, who warned you of the future--for this\nmarriage is going to be the perdition of your house. And, remember\nwhat I tell you now, a day is coming when you will have eyes left you\nonly that you may weep.\u201d With these words, Uncle Bartolo went his way.\n\n\u201cSon,\u201d said he to Lucas, who had waited for him in his house, \u201cit was\nlost labor, as I foretold. But go, now, and mind what I say. Submit to\nwhat can\u2019t be helped, and don\u2019t be stiff-necked, for you\u2019ll surely\ncome out loser. The rope breaks where it is slenderest. You are his\nson, and the authority belongs to him. You will only be kicking\nagainst the goad.\u201d\n\nLucas went back to the country and to work with a heavy heart. When he\nreturned home on the following Saturday, he learned that the bans of\nhis father\u2019s marriage were to be published the next morning for the\nfirst time. Grief made him desperate, and he resolved, as a last\nrecourse, to speak himself.\n\nWe have already hinted at the cool and formal relation that existed\nbetween these two--thanks to the neglect the abandoned man had shown\nhis children. For some time past, the excellent character of Lucas and\nthe good name it had gained him had inspired Juan Garcia with that\nbitter sentiment which rises in the heart of a man who possesses the\nlegal and material superiority, against the subordinate to whom he\nfeels himself morally inferior--a sentiment of hostility that is apt\nto manifest itself in despotism.\n\n\u201cSir,\u201d said the son, speaking with firm moderation, \u201cthey have been\ntelling me that you are going to marry.\u201d\n\n\u201cThey have been telling you what is quite true.\u201d\n\n\u201cI hoped that it was not true.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd why? if I might ask.\u201d\n\n\u201cOn account of the woman they say you are going to have.\u201d\n\n\u201cShe is not, then, to your taste; and you think, perhaps, that I ought\nto have advised with you?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, sir, not with me--I am of small account; but with some one that\nhas more knowledge and judgment than I.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo, then, it appears to you,\u201d said Juan, with repressed ire, \u201cthat\nyour father needs counsel?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, sir,\u201d answered Lucas calmly, \u201cwhen he has a young daughter, and\nis going to give her a step-mother.\u201d\n\n\u201cFor fear he might give her one that would eat her up, like the            55\n_Cancon_?\u201d[9]\n\n\u201cNo, sir, no; we understand now that people are not swallowed like\nsugared anises.\u201d\n\n\u201cOr make her work, being herself industrious, and not willing to sit\nhand upon hand like a notary\u2019s wife?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is not that, sir; Lucia is not afraid of work. She knows that work\nis the honor of the poor.\u201d\n\n\u201cOr, perhaps, keep her at home like a chained dog?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, sir; I am not thinking of that; for my sister, though brought up\nwithout a mother, is modest, and not a girl to be seen at the street\ndoor or with a hole in her stocking. She is used to the shade, but--\u201d\n\n\u201cBut what? Have done!\u201d\n\n\u201cThat which this woman will give her is evil, and may be her ruin.\u201d\n\nJuan Garcia, who had with difficulty restrained himself, rushed upon\nhis son, as the latter uttered these words, with his hand uplifted to\nstrike. Lucas, perceiving the action, quickly inclined his head, and\nreceived upon it the blow that had been aimed at his face.\n\n\u201cGod help me, father! what have I done to be chastised? Have I said\nanything wrong? Have I been wanting in respect to you? Father, just\nbefore my mother--heaven rest her!--died, she said to me, \u2018Lucas,\nwatch over your sister.\u2019 I promised her that I would, and have kept my\npromise.\u201d\n\n\u201cShe meant,\u201d replied Juan, somewhat softened by the memory of the\nmother evoked by her son, \u201cshe meant in case Lucia should be left\nwithout me. But, while I live, which is it that has the authority over\nmy daughter?\u201d\n\n\u201cFather, for the love of the Blessed Virgin, leave her to me! I will\nsupport her.\u201d\n\n\u201cAre you in your senses?\u201d\n\n\u201cFor God\u2019s sake, don\u2019t separate us! I will work with all my might to\nmaintain us both.\u201d\n\n\u201cSeparate you! Nobody has thought of doing it. You will come with her\nto my house.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, sir.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow is that? What do you mean by \u2018no, sir\u2019? Do you think you have a\nright to call your father to account? Is it not enough for you to know\nwhat his hands decide? Perhaps you would like to have another proof of\nwhat they are able to do?\u201d\n\n\u201cMy father may kill me, and I shall neither open my lips nor forget my\nduty; but--make me live with that woman--never!\u201d\n\n\u201cWe shall see about that, insolent upstart!\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, we shall see,\u201d said Lucas, as he went sorrowfully out.\n\nLucas was gifted with one of those noble and delicate natures that\nhumble themselves in victory and grow firm in defeat; that is alike\nincapable of noisy elation in triumph, or pusillanimous abjection when\nprostrate. But the determination of his character was degenerating\ninto stubbornness, as it always happens when will forsakes the\nguidance of reason to follow the promptings of pride. Therefore,\nthough he had not, in the slightest degree, failed in the strict\nrespect that morality enforces, neither the threats of his father nor\nlove for his sister could shake the resolution he had taken in that\ndecisive interview. On leaving his father\u2019s presence, he went in\nsearch of Lucia, whom he found weeping. For a long while neither\nspoke: brother and sister mutually comprehending the cause of the\nprofound depression of the one and the tears of the other.                 56\n\n\u201cIf mother could open her eyes!\u201d at last exclaimed Lucia.\n\n\u201cThey whose eyes God has closed have no wish to open them again in the\nworld,\u201d replied Lucas; \u201cbut remember, that from heaven she always has\nhers fixed upon her daughter. I cannot help you; for, though I have\ntried my best to keep you under my flag, I have not succeeded:\nbecause, heart\u2019s dearest, there is no power in the world that can\noppose a father\u2019s.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut I am to do only what you tell me, Lucas, for my mother left me to\nyou,\u201d sobbed the girl.\n\n\u201cWell, then, pay attention to what I am going to say.\n\n\u201cBear your cross with patience; for that is the only way to make it\nlighter. Be a reed to all storms, but an oak to temptation. Never turn\nfrom the right path, though it be steep and sown with thorns. Always\nlook straight before you, for he that does not do this never knows\nwhere he will stop. As for this woman who is going to be your father\u2019s\nwife, give her the wall; but remember that she is bad, and neither\njoin yourself to her nor talk with her, except with reserve and when\nyou must.\u201d\n\n\u201cShall you do the same, Lucas?\u201d\n\n\u201cI--I shall act as God gives me understanding.\u201d\n\nNothing was seen of Lucas on the day of Juan\u2019s marriage, and it was in\nvain that they looked for him: he had disappeared. Juan, who left no\nmeans untried to ascertain his son\u2019s whereabouts, learned some days\nlater, from a muleteer who come from Tevilla, that he had enlisted.\nThe father felt indignant at the contempt thus shown for his\nauthority, and sorry to lose an assistant in his son: but found\nconsolation in freedom from the immediate presence of an interested\nwitness whose censure like the fog, without form, voice, or action,\npenetrated him with an uncomfortableness from which there was no\nescape.\n\nLucia went to live with her stepmother, and it is hardly necessary to\nrelate what she had to endure; in particular from the daughters of the\nlatter, who, being both foolish and ugly, naturally disliked one who\nwas beautiful and wise; for she had commenced by playing with\nsweetness the role of Cinderella that her brother had recommended.\nBut, little by little, the continual friction was wasting her\npatience, and indignation, repressed discontent, and rancor were\nbeginning to find place in her heart. She wished, sometimes, to\nhumiliate, by her advantages, those who were continually humiliating\nher, and grew presuming and fond of admiration. So it is that evil\nseeds spread and multiply with prodigious rapidity: one suffices to\nopen the way and prepare the ground for the rest.\n\nWhile these things were passing, a regiment of cavalry, commanded by\none Colonel Gallardo, came, and took up its quarters in Arcos.\n\nGallardo was rich, well-born, had been good-looking, and a great\ncoxcomb. He was still the latter; with the kind of conceit that is\noften the result of living in the atmosphere of adulation that\nsurrounds the possessors of money and command--an atmosphere that\nintoxicates many, making them overbearing and insolent, and apt to do,\nwith great impertinence, things that would not be tolerated in others.\nWhile authority is thus misunderstood, it is hardly to be wondered at\nthat it has lost its ancient prestige, and is hated and set at naught.\nAuthority should be consecrated to its mission, and, with its\nadvantages, accept its responsibilities, the first of which is to give     57\ngood example. Do those in place really think they owe the masses\nnothing?--that these are, at once, mothers to nourish, and incensories\nto deify them? Shall we ever go back, morally, to those remote times\nwhen men were both worthy and self-respecting, and neither admitted\nflattery nor refused to rule its reverence; for the latter was never\nso despised as it is at present; the former never so cringing.\n\nBut to return to Colonel Gallardo, who has given margin to those\nreflections.\n\nThis admirable person added to his other pretensions that of youth in\nits flower. His own having already gone to seed, the result was that,\ninstead of appearing the young cock, he suggested the idea of a very\nold chicken. By grace of the peruke-maker, which, as everybody knows,\nconsists in creating ringlets where there is no hair, he wore curled\nlocks. He encased himself in a French corset, which gave him a\nslenderness a sylph might have envied. It was an article of his belief\nthat amorous conquests were as creditable to a soldier as military\nones; and he considered a little hare-brainedness in a man and a spice\nof coquetry in a woman the proper seasoning, for each respectively.\nThese things, united with vanity enough to fill the space left vacant\nin his heart and brain by the absence of other qualities, made of\nColonel Gallardo one of those characters that are detestable, without\nbeing malevolent and ridiculous, though they do not provoke mirth.\n\nThis cavalier, a bachelor, of course, like all of his stamp, had\nlodgings opposite the house of _La Leona_, whose daughters were\nnot long in becoming acquainted with his attendants.\n\nThe preludes to acquaintanceship were couplets worded and sung with\nthe evident intention of opening a flirtation. The soldiers took the\ninitiative, singing to the music of their _guitarillos_:[10]\n\n    \u201cIf your person can be won\n       By valor in the field,\n     Here\u2019s a man with sword in hand\n       Will sooner die than yield.\u201d\n\nAnother followed:\n\n    \u201cIf for a rustic\u2019s love\n       You slight a soldier bold,\n     Base metal you will have\n       Instead of shining gold.\u201d\n\nTo which the girls replied in a similar strain, declaring that they\nfound it difficult to have patience with \u201cthese men of the fields,\u201d\nwhom they describe as \u201cpersecutors of the ground\u201d and \u201csepulchres of\n_gazpacho_.\u201d\n\nNeither was the colonel behindhand in becoming enamored of the beauty\nof Lucia; nor was he the man to dissimulate his sentiments. And, alas!\nLucia herself had ceased to be the discreet and modest maiden, who\nwould once have shrunk offended from demonstrations that could not\nfail to give occasion for scandal.\n\nThe hopes of our decorated aspirant, who soon learned the interior\ncircumstances of this family, rose high in view of the antecedents of\nthe step-mother and the unhappy lot of the young girl. But he deceived\nhimself. For, though vanity had led Lucia beyond the limits of\nprudence, she receded from corruption with all the energy of the\nhonorable blood she had inherited from her mother. This resistance\nexasperated the step-sisters, who, wishing both to be rid of Lucia and\nto see her undone, hoped that the colonel would take her away with\nhim, and laid a plan to accomplish the result they desired. Having         58\npreviously concerted with the lover, they carried out their project in\nthe following manner: One night, when Lucia had gone to her room, and\nsat combing down her beautiful hair, the door opened suddenly, and\nadmitted the colonel, hidden to the eyes in cloak and slouched hat,\nand accompanied by the daughters of _La Leona_ in giggling triumph.\nThey had hardly introduced him into the chamber, when, with jests and\nbursts of laughter, they turned and ran out, closing the door behind\nthem and drawing the bolt.\n\nToo much overwhelmed with indignation, terror, and shame to think of\nany means of escape, the unfortunate girl covered her face with her\nhands and remained silent. The colonel, also, who had been led by\n_La Leona_ to think that it would not be difficult to propitiate Lucia\nby tender and gallant speeches, found himself without words in the\npresence of grief so real and so mute. For, unless a man is totally\nbase, no amount of daring will enable him wholly to overcome the\nrespect that innocence inspires.\n\n\u201cAm I, then, so disagreeable to you,\u201d said Gallardo at last, drawing\nnearer to Lucia--\u201cI who have no wish but to please you?\u201d\n\n\u201cLucas! Lucas! O my brother!\u201d cried the girl, bursting into sobs.\n\n\u201cI will go! I am going!\u201d said the colonel, half-offended,\nhalf-compassionate; and he approached the door, but it was locked.\n\n\u201cYou see that I cannot get out,\u201d said he, turning again toward Lucia.\n\n\u201cI know it,\u201d she exclaimed. \u201cThey wanted to ruin me, and they have\ndone it! Have locked me in here alone with you! How can I ever bear to\nhave any one look me in the face again! What will Lucas say? Ah, my\nheart\u2019s brother!\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are not ruined, child!\u201d said the colonel, irritated. \u201cI am no\nfriend to tragedies; heroic Lucretias frighten me. Believe me, I\ndesire to go, and, to prove it, since I cannot leave by the door, I\nwill get out by this window.\u201d With these words, the colonel wrapped\nhimself again in his cloak, and, mounting the window-seat, sprang into\nthe yard, which was enclosed only by a low paling.\n\nHardly had his feet touched the ground when he felt himself attacked\nby an infuriated man, who apostrophized him with the most violent\ninsults. At the same moment, _La Leona_ and her daughters ran\nshrieking from the house, while the unhappy Lucia called from the\nwindow in a voice of anguish: \u201cDon\u2019t hurt him! It is my father!\u201d\n\nThe man had drawn a knife but Gallardo, who was vigorous and wished to\nescape from the adventure without hurting Lucia\u2019s father and without\nbeing recognized, pushed the assailant from him with such force as to\nthrow him upon his back; ran to the paling, leaped it, and\ndisappeared.\n\nJuan Garcia rose from the ground in that state of blind rage in which\nmen of his uncultivated nature stop at no obstacle and hesitate at no\ncrime. Violently repulsing his wife and step-daughters, who, alarmed\nat the result of their work, would have detained him, he hastened to\nthe house, and was making directly for Lucia\u2019s room.\n\n\u201cLucia! Lucia! jump from the window!\u201d screamed _La Leona_,\nforeseeing a catastrophe. \u201cYour father is going to kill you!\u201d\n\nWild with terror, Lucia, who heard the enraged and drunken voice of\nher father approaching her chamber, precipitated herself into the\nyard.\n\n\u201cRun to the colonel\u2019s!\u201d urged the step-mother, with no intention then\nbut that of saving her life. \u201cHe is the last one your father will          59\nsuspect. It is the nearest house, and you can be hidden there better\nthan anywhere else.\u201d\n\nLucia obeyed mechanically, guided by the instinct of\nself-preservation, the only motive that rules weak natures in moments\nof supreme peril.\n\nGallardo was excitedly pacing his room when she rushed in, pale as\ndeath, covered with her long black hair, cold and helpless with fear\nand desperation, and, sinking upon a chair, exclaimed:\n\n\u201cYou have been my ruin! At least save my life!\u201d\n\nIt is to be supposed that even the dry and sterile heart of this man\nwould find, in such circumstances, sentiments and words to soothe the\nwretched creature thus forced to seek his protection. It is certain\nthat, at the vision of her youthful and innocent beauty, seen through\nthe prism of her tears, he became more enamored than ever, and took\nadvantage of the distress, of which he was the cause, to advance his\nsuit.\n\nAnd the poor child, bereft of affection and support, having nowhere to\nlay her head, lacking firmness to resist and energy to act,\nunsustained by principle duly and constantly inculcated, which would\nhave made her prefer misery to shame, allowed herself to be persuaded\nand retained, drawn by a love that began with the promise and\nconviction that it was to be unchanging and eternal.\n\nThe colonel soon left, taking with him, secretly, Lucia, who had\nalready begun to feel contented in the atmosphere of tenderness and\nluxury that surrounded her.\n\nThe fit of passion that Juan Garcia had experienced, united with\ngrief, shame, and remorse, so affected his constitution, already spent\nand worn by the life he had been leading, that he fell into an\ninflammatory fever, from which he never recovered. A little while\nbefore he died, he said to his old friend: \u201cUncle Bartolo, you hit the\nmark when you told me that the day would come when I should have eyes\nleft only to weep. It has come, and--well, better to close them for\never.\u201d\n\n                      *     *     *     *     *\n\nTwo years had passed since the events last narrated, and five since\nLucas left home. His regiment was in Cordova, where a general recently\narrived from Madrid was going to review the troops of the garrison.\n\nThe evening before the parade, Lucas was in the quarters with several\nother soldiers from Arcos, one of whom, with the careless and constant\ngayety which characterizes the Spanish soldier, and proves, to the\nextreme scandal and disgust of the votaries of utility, the\nnon-material genius of the nation, was alternately touching his\nguitar, and singing:\n\n    \u201cOh! \u2018tis gay to be a soldier.\n       Standing guard with tired feet,\n     And head erect, in stiff cravat,\n       And nothing at all to eat.\n\n    \u201cAnd, for the bread of munition,\n       He gets from the King of Spain,\n     To be \u2018Alert there, sentinel!\u2019\n       All night, and never complain.\n\n    \u201cThis is the life of a soldier.\n       To march wherever he\u2019s led,\n     To sleep under alien shelter,\n       And die in a hospital bed.\u201d\n\nAt this moment the picket-guard, which had just been relieved from\nduty at the general\u2019s quarters, came up.\n\n\u201cOh!\u201d said one of the newly-arrived, \u201cif the general\u2019s wife isn\u2019t a\nfine one! In all my travels I have never seen her equal.\u201d\n\n\u201cShe is not his wife,\u201d replied another, \u201cso drop the \u2018fine.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd why should I drop it? Good words neither add to beauty nor take\nfrom it; but what do you know?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat they tell me; and, besides, if she was his wife, he wouldn\u2019t         60\nkeep her so grand; for that is the way with the _You-Sirs_, they spend\nmore money upon their dears than they do upon their wives.\u201d\n\n\u201cBecause they are afraid their mistresses will leave them for other\nlovers. What do you say, Lucas?\u201d\n\n\u201cThat it\u2019s like keeping a lead knife in a golden sheath,\u201d answered\nLucas.\n\n\u201cThe soul of this one may be of lead, or something cheaper, but her\nperson--by the Moors of Barbary!\u201d\n\n\u201cWe hear enough,\u201d replied Lucas; \u201cdress up a block, and it will look\nlike a shopman. I tell you, these good-for-nothing she vagabonds\nappear to me more like bedraggled rags than women.\u201d\n\n\u201cGet away! If this Lucas hasn\u2019t always the rod of justice lifted! He\nhas entered the uniform, but the uniform hasn\u2019t entered him. If you\nhad been born king, they would have called you the _Justiciero_.\u201d[11]\n\nThe next morning the troops were drawn up in splendid array, the bands\nwere playing, and the general, magnificently mounted, came galloping\nupon the field, followed, at a little distance, by an elegant open\ncarriage, in which was seated a beautiful and richly dressed woman.\n\nThe carriage stopped near where Lucas and his townsmen were formed at\nthe end of a line.\n\n\u201cThat is the general\u2019s mistress,\u201d said the man at Lucas\u2019s right in a\nlow tone. \u201cDid I not tell you she was a sun?\u201d\n\nLucas raised his eyes, and fixed them upon the woman, at the same\ninstant starting so perceptibly as to attract the notice of his\ncompanions.\n\n\u201cWhat ails you, Lucas?\u201d\n\n\u201cNothing,\u201d he answered calmly.\n\nBut the glances of the occupant of the carriage had fallen upon the\ngallant-looking soldier who stood so near her, and a cry of delighted\nsurprise burst from her lips.\n\n\u201cLucas,\u201d said his other neighbor in line, \u201cthat lady is looking this\nway, and making signs to you.\u201d\n\nLucas, pale but perfectly composed, neither looked up nor replied.\n\n\u201cLucas, who can it be? She knows you; she is waving her handkerchief,\nand seems as if she would spring out of the carriage. Look at her!\nSay! who is she?\u201d\n\n\u201cI do not know her,\u201d answered Lucas.\n\n\u201cBy the very cats!\u201d exclaimed the first who had spoken, in an ecstasy,\n\u201cmay my end be a bad one if it isn\u2019t your sister Lucia! Look at her,\nman! it is she!\u201d\n\n\u201cI have looked at her, and I tell you that I do not know her,\u201d\nresponded Lucas.\n\n\u201cLook, now, look! the poor little thing is crying. She is not much\nchanged, only handsomer. You must be blind not to see that it is your\nsister!\u201d\n\n\u201cI do not know her,\u201d repeated the young man, with the same composure.\n\nThere are men who feel profoundly, but exercise such self-control that\nthey succeed in covering with a mantle of indifference the most\nviolent and agonizing emotions--moral Sc\u00e6volas, who astonish without\nattracting us. We like neither the motive nor the effects of a\nstoicism that parades itself so disdainfully. For, if in order to\njudge of all things human, it is necessary to compare them with the\nexample of the ideal of humanity--the God-Man--we cannot fail to be\nrepelled by such arrogance when we reflect that the most holy passion\nwould have lacked its tender and sublime sanctity, if in it bravado\nhad taken the place of meekness.\n\nThe voice of the commanding officer was now heard prescribing the          61\nevolutions. When these were concluded, the troops marched to their\nquarters, where, gathered in groups, they made their comments upon the\nbeautiful lady of the carriage, some of the soldiers from Arcos\ndeclaring that it was Lucia, others, who had not seen her so near,\nmaintaining the contrary.\n\n\u201cHer brother will know,\u201d they exclaimed, running to find him.\n\n\u201cLucas, is that grand, fine _You-Madam_ your sister Lucia?\u201d\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t know the woman. And now, comrades, no more questions; for I\nam not a repeating-clock, and am tired of answering.\u201d\n\nBefore half an hour had passed, an orderly arrived from the general in\nsearch of a soldier named Lucas Garcia.\n\nInteriorly shaken by the indignation which he would not allow his face\nto betray, Lucas followed the messenger to a house of good appearance,\nand was shown into an elegant and luxuriously furnished cabinet. As he\nentered, a fair young girl robed in silk rose from a sofa, and ran\ntowards him with open arms.\n\n\u201cI do not know you, my lady,\u201d said Lucas, quickly repulsing her with\nhis right hand.\n\n\u201cLucas, my brother!\u201d she exclaimed, bursting into tears.\n\n\u201cI have no sister,\u201d he replied, in the same tone as before.\n\n\u201cLucas, my own brother, listen, and I will tell you what happened!\u201d\n\nAt this moment, the colonel--that had been, and was now\ngeneral--entered.\n\n\u201cAh! Lucia,\u201d said he, with ostentatious condescension, \u201cso, then, you\nhave already seen your brother.\u201d\n\n\u201cHe will not know me,\u201d sobbed the girl.\n\n\u201cHow is that?\u201d asked the general, turning toward the soldier. \u201cAnd\nwhy?\u201d\n\n\u201cBecause it would be a deceit, my general,\u201d answered Lucas, lifting\nhis open hand to his temple. \u201cI am the only one left of my house, and\nhave no sister.\u201d\n\n\u201cI sent for you,\u201d proceeded the general, \u201cto make you one of my\norderlies, to keep you near me, have you taught to write, and fit you\nfor a career. You will mount rapidly. I know already that you are\nintelligent and brave.\u201d\n\n\u201cI do not wish to learn to write, my general.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd why?\u201d asked the general, repressing his ill-humor, \u201csince without\nknowing how to write, you cannot rise?\u201d\n\n\u201cI do not want to rise, my general.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe reason is evident,\u201d said the general, with a mocking laugh. \u201cIt\nis not strange that the heir of such a house should disdain the\nservice of the king.\u201d\n\n\u201cHe that sees not the king is king to himself,\u201d answered Lucas.\n\n\u201cWhat is there that you want, brother?\u201d asked Lucia.\n\n\u201cI desire nothing but to serve my time out and return home.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut who calls you there, if, as you say, you have no one?\u201d questioned\nshe.\n\n\u201cLove for my native place,\u201d he answered. \u201cGod give me rest in the soil\nthat gave me birth!\u201d\n\n\u201cValiant goose!\u201d exclaimed the general.\n\nLucas neither opened his lips nor moved an eyelid.\n\n\u201cDearest brother! by our mother\u2019s memory, don\u2019t make as if you did not\nknow me! You break my heart! Stay here.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt would not suit me to be a stranger anywhere, madam.\u201d\n\n\u201cEnough!\u201d said the general. \u201cLet the clown go, he will think better        62\nof it.\u201d\n\n\u201cI do not think twice of things,\u201d replied Lucas, saluting as he went\nout.\n\nLucia ran after him into the anteroom, caught his arm, and, pressing\nit against her bosom, cried in a voice of passionate and tender\nentreaty:\n\n\u201cLucas! my brother! for God\u2019s sake stay! The general has promised me\nthat he will do all he can for you; and he can do a great deal.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe sack is not big enough to hold both honor and profit,\u201d responded\nLucas, hurling his sister from him with all the loftiness of a proud\nnature and the brute force of an angry churl.\n\nLucia fell overwhelmed upon the nearest chair, and her brother went\nhis way to the quarters with clinched fists and lips compressed--pale\nwith lividness that ire stamps upon the faces of children of the\nsouth. Ire was suffocating him; for he could neither express it nor\nfollow its vengeful impulses, which would not have been satisfied\nshort of the commission of a crime; and of this he was incapable.\n\nBut, oh! for a war. The private soldier would have given in it a\nhundred lives if he had had them for a pair of epaulets that would\nlift him to the rank required, in order to enable him to demand\nsatisfaction of the villain who, after having seduced his sister, had\ninsulted him so impudently--epaulets that he would have thrown away\nthe next hour, like flattened orange skins; for Lucas was not\naspiring; neither fortune nor show attracted him. He clung to his\ncondition, loved the labors of the field; was attached to his town and\nits customs, and would not have renounced the things that suited his\ntaste, and in which he excelled, for the sake of hoisting himself upon\na platform where he must always have been an unwelcome stranger and\nintruder. The very words were antipathetic to his innate devotion, to\nhis country, his province, the place where he was born, his lares, and\nhis class.--And the effort of the age is to destroy this beautiful\ninstinct of the heart, by continually saying to the poor, \u201cRise, rise!\nthe summit is your goal: the heights are common to all,\u201d thus infusing\na vain arrogance into the wholesome minds of those who are so worthy\nand respectable in the place they occupy.\n\n                       CONCLUDED IN OUR NEXT.\n\n\n     [2] From 10_d._ to 10\u00bd_d._ sterling.\n\n     [3] We have thought it worth while to give the exact\n     cost of the simplest dress--such a one as the poorest laborer\n     is never without--of an Andalusian peasant:\n          Cloak,                    260 reals.\n          Cloth jacket,              60   \u201d\n          Cloth breeches,            60   \u201d\n          Set of buttons (silver),   60   \u201d\n          Idem for jacket,           36   \u201d\n          Woollen sash,              50   \u201d\n          Vest,                      30   \u201d\n          Linen shirt,               20   \u201d\n          Linen drawers,             15   \u201d\n          Calf-skin shoes,           22   \u201d\n          Gaiters,                   40   \u201d\n          Stockings,                 14   \u201d\n          Handkerchief,               4   \u201d\n          Hat,                        3   \u201d\n                                    -------\n            Total,                  606   \u201d\n     --without the making, which is done by the men of the household.\n\n     What will be said to this by those who are all for utility,\n     economy, and savings-banks, when the Andalusian rustic might,\n     without inconvenience, go clad in a frieze sack, a pair of\n     hempen sandals, and a rush hat?--_Authoress._\n\n     [4] _Pordioseros_, those who ask in God\u2019s name--that is to\n     say, beggars. For this and other delicate and tender\n     epithets that the Spanish poor apply to the unfortunate, our\n     stern language has no equivalents.\n\n     [5] The actual organization of the family\n     throughout the kingdom of Aragon, the Basque provinces, and\n     the mountains of Santander. It is this that makes the mania\n     for codification that at present exists in Spain so much to\n     be dreaded.--_Spanish Ed._\n\n     [6] Big Lucas.\n\n     [7] _Tomar la vereda_--Take another than the high\n     or legalized way. Said of contrabandists.\n\n     [8] An arroba is twenty-five pounds.\n\n     [9] A monster they frighten children with.\n\n     [10] Small guitars.\n\n     [11] The doer of justice.\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n   EGYPTIAN CIVILIZATION ACCORDING TO THE MOST RECENT DISCOVERIES.         63\n\n                      FROM THE CORRESPONDANT.\n\n\n                                II.\n\n                       THE SACERDOTAL CLASS.\n\nEgyptian civilization had its source in the priesthood. There is\nreason to believe that at first they exercised sovereign authority.\n\u201cAfter the reign of the demigods and the Manes,\u201d says Manethon, \u201ccame\nthe first dynasty, consisting of eight kings, who reigned for the\nspace of two hundred and fifty-two years. Menes was the first of these\nkings. He carried war into foreign lands, and made himself renowned.\u201d\n\nMenes, the chief of the military forces, effected a revolution which\nsubstituted a civil government for a theocracy. He was the first to\nassume the title of king, and he founded the hereditary monarchy of\nEgypt.\n\nThe separation of the sovereign power from the priesthood was\nmaintained for a long time, for it is not till the twenty-second\ndynasty that we meet Pah\u00f4r-Amons\u00e9, high-priest of Amon-Ra, whose name\nis still to be seen in the inscriptions at Thebes on a royal\ncartouche. Pihm\u00e9, another high-priest, also figures in the royal\n_legendes_ among the historical representations with which the pronaos\nof the temple of Khons at Thebes is decorated. This sacerdotal\nrevolution doubtless took place at the end of the seven generations of\nsluggish kings of whom Diodorus speaks. The twenty-second dynasty in\nfact left no traces in history. It is only known by its downfall.\n\u201cAnd this leads us to remark,\u201d says Champollion-Figeac, \u201cthat there\nwas perhaps some admirable conception, or profound combination, or\nhappy inspiration in the monarchical establishment of a powerful\nnation in which the loss of the crown was the inevitable effect of the\nincapacity or the negligence of the family that had received it by the\nwill of the nation. A Theban family preserved it for thirteen\nconsecutive centuries, and furnished six dynasties of more than fifty\nkings. The first suffered from foreign invasion, and achieved the\narduous labor of sustaining the government, finally restoring all the\nbranches of public administration, and re-establishing the temples and\nthe public works. They rebuilt Thebes, Memphis, and the principal\ncities, Lake Moeris, and the canals of Lower Egypt. They and their\nsuccessors bore their victorious arms over distant lands and seas. The\narts developed under the wing of victory. Public prosperity seemed to\nkeep pace with these heroic achievements, and the reigning family to\nbecome more powerful and more firmly established by such great\nundertakings. Inaction succeeded to so much zeal. Ten inglorious kings\nascended the throne, the last of whom were deposed by the priests.\nThe constitution of the country, favored by the state of affairs,          64\nprovided for this disorder. A new family was called to reign.\u201d\n\nModern historians have represented the ancient monarchy of Egypt as\nsubjected to the despotism of the sacerdotal caste. This assertion\nseems difficult to reconcile with the numerous inscriptions attesting\nthat the principal functions of the priesthood were constantly assumed\nby the sons of the Pharaohs. An inscription in relief on the fa\u00e7ade of\nthe tomb of Koufou Schaf, whom M. Mariette believes to be the oldest\nson of Cheops, the builder of the great pyramid, depicts that prince\nwearing a panther\u2019s skin--a distinctive sign of high sacerdotal\nfunctions--and among his titles is found that of priest of Apis.\nAccording to a papyrus published by Baron Denon, the sons of the two\nPharaohs must have filled the office of the high-priest of Ammon.\n\nIt is true these last-named princes belonged to the twenty-second\ndynasty, and at that epoch they had not had time to forget the\nusurpation by the high-priests Pah\u00f4r-Amons\u00e9 and Pihm\u00e9. It is probable\nthat the king in causing this high function to be assumed by his\nnearest relatives wished to take precautions against the reaction of\nthe sacerdotal class, always so powerful. But the monuments almost\nalways show the priesthood living in strict and intimate alliance with\nthe royal authority. Thus, while the younger sons of the Pharaohs\nperformed the priestly functions, the children of the high-priests\nattended the royal children, and were employed in the highest offices\nin the king\u2019s palace. The office of high-priest of Ammon at Thebes,\nthe sacerdotal city, was hereditary, as Herodotus attests in the\nfollowing passage: \u201cAs Hecat\u00e6us, the historian, gave his genealogy at\nThebes, and made himself to be a descendant of a god, through sixteen\ngenerations, the priests of Jupiter (Ammon) treated him as they did\nme, except that I did not give my genealogy. After conducting me into\na vast interior apartment, they counted, as they showed them to me,\nthe large wooden statues of the high-priests, each of whom, while\nalive, placed his image there. Commencing with that of the last\ndeceased and going back, the priests made me remark that each of the\nhigh-priests was the son of his predecessor.... Each one of these\nstatues represented, they said, a piromis, the son of a piromis. They\nshowed me three hundred and forty-five, and invariably a piromis was\nthe son of a piromis.\u201d\n\nIt is not necessary to remark to what degree the priests of Ammon took\nadvantage of the credulity of Herodotus. Doubtless, the office of\nhigh-priest in Egypt was hereditary as well as the throne, but it was\nno less subject to the influence of dynastic revolutions. We have just\nseen, for example, the two sons of the king filling the office of the\nhigh-priest of Amon-Ra, king of the gods.\n\nThe sacerdotal class was truly the soul of the Egyptian nation. It so\ncompletely embodied the genius, character, and traditions of the\npeople that they may be said to have lived by their priests. They\nformed the most powerful body of men that ever existed in the world\nbefore the Catholic clergy.\n\nAs we have seen in a preceding chapter, the independence of this\ncorporation was ensured by a large territorial endowment. According to\nDiodorus, \u201cthe largest part of the land belonged to the college of\npriests.... They transmit their profession to their descendants and        65\nare exempt from taxation.\u201d[12]\n\n\u201cThus secure in the possession of their lands,\u201d says\nChampollion-Figeac, \u201cthe entire sacerdotal class was like a family\nwith a vast heritage transmissible, according to known conditions,\nfrom generation to generation. It was this right of inheriting the\nlands that necessarily rendered their office hereditary, because the\nnature of their functions determined the part of the land inherited by\neach member of the family, and on this fundamental principle the whole\nconstitution of the sacerdotal caste of Egypt depended.\u201d\n\nThe hereditary transmission of each sacerdotal function, and the part\nof the landed property attached to this function, could only take\neffect in favor of one of the children, and probably the oldest, as in\nthe royal family. The other children remained to be supported by the\nhead of the family, or easily found a means of subsistence in the\nperquisites of the numerous sacred or civil employments. The number of\nthe temples, their rich endowments and rents, spoken of in the Rosetta\ninscription, explains how so large a number of priests could live at\ntheir ease. To this income must be added the subsidies from the royal\ntreasury, and the fees of the numerous salaried functions which\nembraced every part of the public administration, apart from the\nmilitary sphere. But in Egypt, as elsewhere, families sometimes became\nextinct for want of descendants, and thus a new path was opened for\ncapacity without employment.\n\nTo form an exact idea of the influence exercised by the priesthood\nover Egyptian society, it is necessary to enter into some details upon\ntheir manners and kind of life, the duties which occupied them, and\nthe extent of their knowledge of all kinds which they made use of to\npromote the civilization of their country.\n\nPlutarch relates that the Egyptian priests abstained from mutton and\npork, and on days of purification they ordered their meat to be served\nwithout salt, because, among other reasons, it whetted the appetite,\ninciting them to eat and drink more. He says: \u201cThey have a well apart,\nwhere they water their bull Apis, and carefully abstain from drinking\nthe Nile water, not that they regard it as unclean, on account of the\ncrocodiles, as some suppose--on the contrary, there is nothing the\nEgyptians reverence so much as the Nile--but they think its effect is\nto render them more corpulent. They are unwilling for Apis to become\ntoo fat, or to become so themselves, but wish their souls to be\nsustained by slight, active, nimble bodies, and that the divine part\nwithin may not be oppressed and weighed down by the burden of what is\nmortal.\n\n\u201cIn the city of Heliopolis, or the City of the Sun, those who worship\nthe divinity never carry any wine into the temple, because it is not\nsuitable to drink in the presence of their lord and king. The priests\ntake it in small quantities, but they have several days of\npurification and sanctification, during which they abstain entirely\nfrom wine, and do nothing but study and teach holy things.\u201d\n\nWho would have expected to find among the priests of a pagan nation\nthe rules of abstinence now practised by the Catholic Church?--\u201cthat       66\nthe soul may be sustained by slight, active, nimble bodies, that the\ndivine part within may not be oppressed and weighed down by the burden\nof what is mortal.\u201d Was it not in these temperate habits, so in\naccordance with their spiritualistic doctrines, that lay, to a great\ndegree, the secret of the moral influence of the priests, the real\naristocracy of the country?\n\nThe prestige of the sacerdotal class was partly due to their costume\nand appearance. \u201cIn other places,\u201d says Herodotus, \u201cthe priests of the\ngods wear their hair long; in Egypt they shave.... Every three days\nthe priests shave the whole body, that no vermin may defile them while\nministering to the gods. They wear only garments of linen and slippers\nof the papyrus. They are not allowed to wear other kinds. They wash\nthemselves in fresh water twice a day and twice by night. Their rites\nare almost innumerable.\u201d On the Egyptian monuments of every age the\npriests of various ranks are easily recognized by their heads entirely\nshaven. They could only wear linen garments; woollen were forbidden.\nBesides the religious motives that induced them to adopt linen\ntissues, this preference was justified by its advantages. From linen\ncould be made light robes of dazzling whiteness, which would reflect\nthe sun\u2019s rays and engender nothing unclean.\n\nAll the ancient authors testify to the effect produced upon the\npopular mind by the imposing exterior of the Egyptian priests; their\ngleaming white robes, the habitual gravity of their deportment, their\nexquisite neatness, and the images of the gods worn on rich\ncollars--all conspired to excite respect and veneration.\n\nThe most important duty of the priests, next to the functions of their\noffice, was that of giving advice to the king. \u201cThe priests,\u201d says\nDiodorus, in a passage already cited, \u201care the chief counsellors of\nthe king. They aid him by their labors, advice, and knowledge.\u201d In\nalluding to the regulations for the education of the king, and\nfacilitating the accomplishment of their duties, we have shown how\ntheir application, so important to the happiness of the people, was\nconfided to the wisdom and patriotism of the chief priests. But did\nthey not render this task impossible by allowing the kings to receive\ndivine honors, exalting their pride by the ceremonies of actual\nworship, as attested by all the monuments, and officially recognized,\nas we shall presently see, by the sacerdotal body itself, in the\nRosetta inscription?\n\nIn subjecting the Egyptians to the humiliation of this worship, and to\nsuperstitions still more shameful, did not the priests degrade them,\nand facilitate the despotism of the king? The more enlightened and\npowerful the sacerdotal class, the more responsible before history for\nthe destiny of a nation which was the first-born of civilization.\n\n\u201cIn Greece,\u201d says Champollion-Figeac, \u201cthe service of the temple was\nthe sole occupation of the priests; in Egypt, they were statesmen\ngoverning, so to speak, kings and people in the name of the gods, and\nmonopolizing the administration of justice, the culture of the\nsciences and their diffusion. We, therefore, find members of this\ncaste everywhere, in all ranks of Egyptian society, and we see by the\ngrants to the lowest grades that they were attached by their titles or\noffice to religion and its ministrants. We find in ancient writings\nthe proper qualifications for the different classes of the priesthood.     67\nThe monuments show that this class, with its infinite ramifications,\nwas of every grade, the lowest of which was not despised. It was\neverywhere present by means of a vast hierarchy, which had every\ngradation from the all-powerful chief pontiff down to the humble\nporter of the temple and palace, and, perhaps, even their servant.[13]\n\nIn addition to their religious duties, the learned priests taught in\nthe schools of the temples the arts and sciences, writing, drawing,\nmusic, literature, cosmogony, natural and moral philosophy, natural\nhistory, and the requirements of religion. The priest had charge of\nthe finances, the assessment and collection of the taxes; priests\nadministered justice, interpreted the laws, and in the king\u2019s name\ndecided all civil and criminal cases. Another sacerdotal division\npractised medicine and surgery. It is known that the Egyptians were\nthe first to make medicine an art founded on the data of experience\nand observation.[14]\n\nOne of the most numerous and most important of the sacerdotal\ndivisions was the scribes, who transcribed the sacred books, the\nnational annals, the documents of all kinds relating to the civil\ncondition of families, property, justice, the administration, and,\nfinally, the ritual of the dead, more or less extended, which piety\ndeposited in the coffins of deceased relatives. Writing in Egypt dates\nfrom extreme antiquity. There are inscriptions still to be seen,\nperfectly legible, in the sepulchral chambers of the great pyramid,\nconstructed by one of the first kings of the fourth dynasty.\n\nChampollion-Figeac says the three kinds of writing, hieroglyphic,\nhieratic, and demotic, were in general use. He adds that \u201cthe\nhieroglyphic alone was used on the public monuments. The humblest\nworkman could make use of it for the most common purposes, as may be\nseen by the utensils and instruments of the most common kinds, which,\nit may be observed, contradicts the incorrect assertions respecting\nthe pretended mystery of this writing, which the Egyptian priests,\naccording to them, made use of as a means of oppressing the common\npeople and keeping them in ignorance.\u201d\n\nNo learned body ever understood the wants of its country as well as\nthe Egyptian priesthood. And never was a public administration more\nsolicitous of availing themselves of this knowledge for the general\nbenefit. It is true, the annual uniformity of physical phenomena\nsingularly facilitated the study and application of the laws necessary\nfor the well-being of the people. The great and wonderful inundation\nof the Nile, occurring every year at the same time, covering the land\nwith water for the same length of time, then subsiding to give a new\nface to the country and a fresh stimulus to the activity of the\ninhabitants, naturally imprinted on the nation habits of order and\nforesight which made it easy to govern.\n\nThe members of the sacerdotal class, then, were most intimately\nconnected with the individual interests of the nation; they were the\nnecessary intermediaries between the gods and man, and between the\nking and his subjects. Their concurrence in all public business was\nnot less constant or less necessary. The religious nature of the\ninhabitants led them to offer invocations to the gods amid all their\noccupations, in peace and war, in public and private duties, at the\nebb of inundating waters, the preparation of the land for the seed,\nand the harvesting of the fruits of the earth. The gods, manifesting       68\nthemselves through the priests, directed the most important decisions,\nand sanctified by the expression of their satisfaction the possession\nof the harvest, the first-fruits of which were received as\nofferings.[15]\n\nBut that which gives a more just idea of the sublime _r\u00f4le_\nplayed by the Egyptian priests is the Rosetta inscription.[16] It is\nwell known that this famous inscription is the reproduction of a\ndecree made in 196 B.C. by the representatives of the sacerdotal\nbody gathered at Memphis for the coronation and enthronement of\nPtolemy Epiphanes. On account of its importance, we think ourselves\njustified in giving it almost entirely: \u201cIn the year IX.,[17] the\ntenth of the month of Mechir, the pontiffs and prophets, those who\nenter the sanctuary to clothe the gods, the pterophores, the\nhierogrammatists, and all the other priests, who from all the temples\nin the country have assembled before the king at Memphis for the\nsolemnity of taking possession of that crown which Ptolemy, still\nliving, the well-beloved of Pthah, the divine Epiphanes, a most\ngracious prince, has inherited from his father, being assembled in the\ntemple of Memphis, have pronounced this same day the following decree:\n\n\u201cConsidering that King Ptolemy, still living, the well-beloved of\nPthah, the divine Epiphanes, son of King Ptolemy and Queen Arsino\u00eb,\ngods philopatores, has conferred all kinds of benefits on the temples\nas well as those who dwell in them, and in general on all those who\nare under his dominion: that being a god, the offspring of a god and\ngoddess, like Horus the son of Isis and Osiris, the avenger of Osiris,\nhis father, and, eager to manifest his zeal for the things that\npertain to the gods, he has consecrated great revenues to the service\nof the temple, in money as well as grain, and expended large sums in\nrestoring tranquillity to Egypt, and constructing temples therein:\n\n\u201cThat he has neglected no means in his power of performing humane\ndeeds; that in order that in his kingdom the people and all the\ncitizens generally might possess an abundance, he has repealed some of\nthe tributes and taxes established in Egypt, and diminished the weight\nof the remainder; that he has, besides, remitted all that was due him\nfrom the rents of the crown, either from his subjects, the people of\nEgypt, or those of his other kingdoms, though these rents were of\nconsiderable amount; that he has released all those who were\nimprisoned and condemned for a long time;\n\n\u201cThat he has ordered that the revenues of the temples, and the rents\npaid them annually in grain, as well as in money, together with the\nportions reserved for the gods from the vineyards, the orchards, and\nall other places to which they had a right from the time of his\nfather, should continue to be collected in the country;\n\n\u201cThat he has dispensed those who belong to the sacerdotal tribes from\nmaking an annual journey to Alexandria (the seat of royalty after the      69\naccession of the Lagides);\n\n\u201cThat he has bestowed many gifts on Apis, Mnevis, and other sacred\nanimals of Egypt;...\n\n\u201cIt has, therefore, pleased the priests of all the temples of the land\nto decree that all the honors due King Ptolemy, still living, the\nwell-beloved of Pthah, the divine Epiphanes, most gracious, as well as\nthose which are due to his father and mother, gods, philopatores, and\nthose which are due to his ancestors, should be considerably\naugmented; that the statue of King Ptolemy, still living, be erected\nin every temple and placed in the most conspicuous spot, which shall\nbe called the statue of Ptolemy, the avenger of Egypt. This statue\nshall be placed near the principal god of the temple, who shall\npresent him with the arms of victory, and all things shall be arranged\nin the most appropriate manner; that the priests shall perform three\ntimes a day religious service before these statues; that they adorn\nthem with sacred ornaments; and that they have care to render them, in\nthe great solemnities, all the honors which, according to usage,\nshould be paid the other gods....\n\n\u201cAnd in order that it may be known why in Egypt we glorify and honor,\nas is just, the god Epiphanes, most gracious monarch, the present\ndecree shall be engraved on a stela of hard stone, in sacred\ncharacters and in Greek characters, and this stela shall be placed in\nevery temple of the first, second, and third classes existing in all\nthe kingdom.\u201d[18]\n\nWhen we remember that the rule of the Greek conquerors had already\nbeen established in Egypt one hundred and thirty-six years, we judge,\nfrom the manner the Egyptian priests expressed themselves, of the\npersistent strength of this social organization imposed on the\nsuccessors of Alexander in spite of all their power.\n\nTherefore, says Champollion-Figeac, \u201cthe monuments of the times of the\nPtolemies may be considered a key to the times of the Pharaohs, and\nthe account of the ceremonies celebrated at the coronation of these\nGreek kings may very suitably be applied, by changing the names, to\nthe kings of the ancient dynasties.\u201d\n\n\n                                III.\n\n                        THE MILITARY CLASS.\n\nAs we have already seen (Book I., chap. ii.), the profession of arms,\nas well as all other pursuits, was hereditary in Egypt, and those who\nfollowed it formed a distinct body still more numerous than that of\nthe priests. They owned a part of the land, but were forbidden to\ncultivate it or to pursue any industrial labor. The fertile land\nassigned to every head of a family in the division which, according to\nHerodotus, was made under the first kings, was tilled by the laborers.\nIt is easy to perceive the evils of this system, which for ever\nwithheld from agriculture a multitude of young and vigorous arms.\nHerodotus estimates the number of the calasiries and hermotybies (the\nnames of the warriors) at 410,000. We should doubtless modify the\ninformation given Herodotus by the priests, who had motives for\nexaggerating before a stranger the military forces of the country. But\nit is no less true that the number of able men withheld from\nagriculture by the Egyptian system must have been considerable. On the\nother hand, notwithstanding the numerous gymnastic exercises to which\nthey were subjected, these exercises could not have been as                70\nefficacious as agricultural pursuits in developing strength.\n\nWishing to elevate the noble profession of arms, they disparaged\nmanual labor, and gradually left to slaves not only the trades, but\neven the agricultural pursuits so necessary to the existence and\nprosperity of a nation. Thanks to the salutary rule of hereditary\nprofessions, agriculture and other labor could not be entirely left to\nslaves, but labor alone attaches man to the soil; and there came a day\nwhen the military class was rooted out and transplanted beyond Egypt,\nwhich was left defenceless to its enemies. This is an important point\nin the history of the country which has not been sufficiently\nremarked.\n\nPsammetichus, the head of the Sa\u00efte dynasty, was, it is said, the\nfirst king of Egypt who dared shake off the yoke of the laws imposed\nfrom time immemorial on royalty.[19] Relying on an army of foreign\nmercenaries, Arabians, Carians, and Ionian Greeks, he was not afraid\nof violating the privileges of the military class, and thus a\nrevolution was effected in Egypt which became fatal to the country.\n\u201cTwo hundred and forty thousand Egyptian warriors revolted.... They\ntherefore conferred together, and with one accord abandoned\nPsammetichus to go among the Ethiopians. Psammetichus, hearing of it,\npursued them. When he overtook them, he implored them for a long time\nnot to abandon their gods, their wives, and their children. Then one\nof them replied that everywhere ... they could find wives and\nchildren.\u201d[20]\n\nThere are such bold colors in the picture of Herodotus that modesty\nrequires us to efface them, but we may say that he depicts to the life\nthe brutal cynicism into which idleness had caused the military class\nto fall. Whatever their wrongs on the part of the king, it is\ndifficult to allow they were right in carrying their resentment so far\nas to abandon their religion, their families, and their country. When,\nless than a century after, the Persians, led by Cambyses, invaded the\nland, the unarmed nation could offer no resistance, and Egypt was\ndevastated. It had not recovered from this disaster when it fell into\nthe power of Alexander.\n\nThe military system of ancient Egypt possessed, nevertheless, several\nadvantages which should be noticed.\n\nFirst: Exemption from military service ensured the tillers of the soil\ncomplete stability to their occupation, so that war did not, as among\nmodern nations, hinder the cultivation of the land by enrolling the\nablest part of the population and endangering the subsistence of the\ncountry.\n\nOn the other hand, the possession of landed property guaranteed the\npatriotism of the soldiers, who, as Diodorus justly remarks, defended\ntheir country with all the more ardor that they were at the same time\nthe safeguards of their own property. Finally, the perpetuity of the\nmilitary service in the same families must have singularly favored         71\nthe development of the art of war, respect for discipline, and the\nmaintenance of an _esprit de corps_ in the army. After the\nexpulsion of the Hyksos, the Egyptians, inured to war by their long\nstruggles against these foreign invaders, obtained great victories in\nAsia, under their kings, Ahmes (Amosis), Thothmes III., and Rameses\nII., called the great Sesostris by the Greeks. The military\npre-eminence of Egypt is attested by the Holy Scriptures in the\nprophecies of Isaiah respecting her downfall.\n\nIt was by war and the public works that the Pharaohs shed so brilliant\na glory over Egypt, but we know how dearly this glory cost the nation,\nwhose traditional characteristic was eminently pacific. Nevertheless,\nit would be unjust to make the king solely responsible for the ruinous\nwars that ended in the conquest of Egypt. The defect we have referred\nto in the constitution of the military class must have greatly\ncontributed to this fatal result. The forced inactivity of its\nfamilies made them a ready instrument for the ambition of the kings,\nwho found a benefit in turning their attention from internal affairs\nand directing the activity of so powerful a body to distant\nexpeditions.\n\nUnder the eighteenth dynasty, and particularly under the reign of\nThothmes III., Egypt extended the power of its arms to a great\ndistance. We see this prince, according to a contemporary inscription,\n\u201cestablishing his frontiers where he pleased.\u201d The pictures graven on\nthe walls of two chambers recently discovered in the temple of\nDeir-el-Bahari, at Thebes, a monument erected by the regent Hatasou,\nsister of Thothmes III. (the eighteenth dynasty), show the conquered\npeople putting on board the Egyptian fleet the booty taken after\nbattle. Here are giraffes, monkeys, leopards, arms, ingots of copper,\nrings of gold. There are entire trees, probably of a rare species, the\nroots of which are enclosed in large boxes filled with earth. The\nvessels themselves merit our attention. They are large, solidly built,\nand impelled either by sails or oars. A numerous crew covers the deck.\nThanks to the care which the Egyptian artist took to indicate the\ndisposition of the masts, sails, and even the knots of the complicated\ncordage which bound together the different parts of the vessel, we\nhave a clear idea what a vessel belonging to the Egyptian navy was\nfour thousand years ago.\n\n\u201cIn another chamber of the same temple are scenes of as great an\ninterest. The Egyptian regiments are advancing with gymnastic steps\nand entering Thebes triumphantly. Each soldier has a palm in his left\nhand; in his right is a spear or battle-axe. Before them sound the\ntrumpets. Officers are bearing the standards, surmounted by the name\nof the victorious regiment.\u201d[21]\n\nIt was from the military class, according to Manethon, that sprang the\nfirst dynasty, which commences with Menes, the leader of the armies.\nFrom this king to Psammetichus, the founder of the twenty-sixth\ndynasty--that is, for more than two thousand years--a strict alliance\nexisted between the army and the throne. This makes the following\npassage from Herodotus worthy of attention: \u201cThey (the warriors) enjoy\nby turns the following advantages: Every year a thousand calasiries\nand as many hermotybies form the king\u2019s guard. They daily receive,\nbesides their lands, five mines of baked bread, two mines of beef, and\nfour cups of wine. This is what the guards receive.\u201d                       72\n\nBy this truly monarchical system, to which we venture to call the\nattention of the sovereigns who wish to retain their crowns, the whole\narmy corps, and all the members of the military class, were\nsuccessively admitted to the honor of guarding the sacred person of\nthe king, which must have singularly augmented their devotedness and\nfidelity. This system had the great advantage of dissipating all\nfeelings of envy with which privileged corps are regarded.\n\nThe Egyptian monarch doubtless found a solid support in this intimate\nunion with the military class from which it sprang. King Psammetichus,\nthe founder of the Sa\u00efte dynasty, was guilty of the capital fault of\nemploying foreign troops, and violating the civil rights of the native\nsoldiers. He thus caused the emigration of the entire national forces\nwhich we have already signalized as one of the principal causes of the\ndownfall of Egypt.\n\nFrom the time of the Persian conquest, the glorious _r\u00f4le_ of the\ngreat Egyptian army was ended. History only mentions after this the\nexploits of the navy. Herodotus relates that Egypt furnished two\nhundred vessels for the fleet assembled by Xerxes for the subjugation\nof Greece. \u201cThe Egyptians,\u201d says he, \u201chad barred helmets, convex\nbucklers with a wide bordure, spears for naval combats, and great\nbattle-axes. Most of them wore cuirasses and long swords. Such was\ntheir equipment.\u201d\n\nThis fleet valiantly sustained the national honor, for the same\nhistorian adds a little further on: \u201cIn this combat (that of\nArtemisium, which preceded the great naval battle of Salamis) the\nEgyptians made themselves conspicuous among the troops of Xerxes; they\ndid great things, and took five Greek vessels with their equipages.\u201d\n\n\n                                IV.\n\n       LEGISLATION--ADMINISTRATIVE AND JUDICIAL INSTITUTIONS.\n\nThe wisdom of the Egyptian laws was everywhere admired in ancient\ntimes. \u201cI would remind the reader, accustomed, perhaps, to regard the\nearly history of Egypt as fabulous or somewhat uncertain, that\nobscurity rests on some points of its chronology, and the name and\nsuccession of some of the kings, but not on its legislation, the\nwisdom of which was admired by antiquity; and its effect on the power\nand genius of the Egyptian nation is attested by the monuments still\nin existence.[22] Holy Scripture itself seems to ratify this eulogium\nin saying that \u201cMoses was instructed in all the wisdom of the\nEgyptians, and he was powerful in his words and in his deeds.\u201d[23]\n\nUnfortunately, all the Egyptian laws have not come down to us, and we\nhave to resort to the incomplete testimony of Herodotus and Diodorus.\nBut, as M. de Bonald states, it is easy to recognize the general\nspirit of this legislation, which constantly contributed to stability\nby the maintenance of ancient customs, evidently borrowed from\npatriarchal traditions, and by the widest application of the\nhereditary principle extending to every grade of society. The details\nwe have given concerning the constitution of the family and about\nproperty, the distinction between the sacerdotal, military,\nagricultural, and working classes, as well as concerning royalty,\nappear sufficient to give the reader an approximate idea of the            73\ncivil and political laws of the ancient Egyptian monarchy.\n\nNo trace has yet been found of the municipal rights in ancient Egypt,\nbut there is reason to believe that cities as powerful as Thebes,\nMemphis, Elephantine, Tanis, etc., had institutions suited to the\ngenius of their inhabitants.\n\nEach dynasty took for its capital the city from which it sprang. Thus\nthe two first dynasties established the seat of government at Thinis\nand Memphis; the fifth at Elephantine; and the sixth at Memphis.\nThebes only became the capital from the time of the eleventh\ndynasty.[24] Owing to this excellent custom, no city, under the\nancient monarchy, could preserve its ascendency and attract all the\nsources of power in the country. Thinis, Memphis, Elephantine, Thebes,\nTanis, Sa\u00efs, etc., were by turns the capitals of the kingdom, the\ncentres of national activity, and the seats of sovereign power.\n\nAs to the financial laws, history has transmitted several the wisdom\nof which makes us regret the more those that have not come down to us.\nThe object of the first was to proscribe idleness, which the Egyptians\nrightly regarded as a social evil. \u201cAmasis,\u201d says Herodotus, \u201cis the\nauthor of the law which obliges every Egyptian to show annually to the\ngovernor of his _nome_ (province) his means of subsistence, and\nthey who did not obey, or did not appear to live on legitimate\nresources, were punished with death. Solon, the Athenian, having\nborrowed this law from the Egyptians, imposed it on his\nfellow-citizens, who still observe it and think it faultless.\u201d\n\nThe Egyptians, then, recognized this fundamental law--that man should\nlive by the fruit of his labor, and we see with what rigor they\nenforced it.[25] In a well-regulated nation, where there is work for\nevery one, no one, indeed, should be allowed to live at the expense of\nthe community. The protection afforded human life in Egypt allows us\nto suppose that capital punishment was reserved for those who\nobstinately refused to gain their livelihood by labor or other honest\nmeans. We know from Herodotus that woman, as well as man, was\nsubjected to the great law of labor. \u201cThe women go to market and\ntraffic, the men remain at home and weave. Everywhere else the woof is\nbrought up, the Egyptians carry it under. The men carry burdens on\ntheir heads, the women on their shoulders.\u201d[26]\n\nThe weaker sex was better protected from the violence of human\npassions than among other nations. \u201cThe laws concerning women were\nvery severe. Those who violated a free woman were mutilated, for this\ncrime was considered inclusive of three great evils, insult,\ncorruption of morals, and confusion of children. For adultery without\nviolence, the man was condemned to receive a thousand stripes, and the\nwoman to have her nose cut off--the lawgiver wishing her to be\ndeprived of the attractions she had availed herself of to allure.\u201d[27]\n\nWe see the powerful protection assured to the family by the Egyptian\nlaws in making woman respected and obliging her to respect herself.\n\nHuman life was equally protected. \u201cHe who saw on the way a man\nstruggling with an assassin, or enduring violent treatment, and did\nnot aid him when in his power, was condemned to death.\u201d \u201cHe who had        74\nwilfully murdered a free man or a slave was punished with death, for\nthe laws wished to punish not according to the degree of rank, but the\nintention of the evil-doer. At the same time, their care in the\nmanagement of the slaves kept them from ever offending a free man.[28]\n\nThe law respecting loans was no less remarkable. It was forbidden\nthose who lent by contract to allow the principal to more than double\nby the accumulation of the interest. Creditors who demanded pay could\nonly seize the goods of the debtor. Bodily restraint was never\nallowed. For the legislator considered goods as belonging to those who\nacquired them by labor, by transmission, or by gift, but the\nindividual belonged to the state, which, at any moment, might claim\nhis services in war or in peace. It would, indeed, be absurd if a\nwarrior, at the moment of battle, could be carried off by his\ncreditor, and the safety of all endangered by the cupidity of one. It\nappears that Solon introduced this law at Athens, giving it the name\nof _seisactheia_,[29] and remitted all debts contracted under\nrestraint. Most of the Greek legislators are blamed, and not without\nreason, for forbidding the seizure of arms, ploughs, and other\nnecessary utensils, as pledges of debts, and for permitting, on the\nother hand, the privation of the liberty of those who made use of\nthese instruments.\n\nIt is evident that civilized nations, from the earliest times, sought\nto oppose and repress the dangerous evil of usury, which inevitably\nleads to the oppression of the laborer and the degradation of labor.\nBut the Egyptians had an efficacious means of ensuring the\npayment of debts--in depriving those of sepulture who died without\nsatisfying their creditors. In such a case the body, after being\nembalmed, was simply deposited in the house of the deceased and left\nto the children. \u201cIt sometimes happens,\u201d says Diodorus, \u201cthat, owing\nto the prevailing respect for the memory of parents, the\ngrandchildren, becoming wealthier, paid the debts of their ancestor,\nhad the decree of condemnation revoked, and gave him a magnificent\nfuneral.\u201d The same author adds, \u201cIt is common to give the body of a\ndeceased parent as the guarantee of a debt. The greatest infamy and\nprivation of sepulture awaited those who did not redeem such a\npledge.\u201d\n\n\u201cUnder the reign of Asychis,\u201d says Herodotus, \u201cthe Egyptians made a\nlaw allowing a person to borrow by giving in pledge the body of his\nfather. An additional clause allowed the lender to dispose of the\nsepulchral chamber of the borrower, and, in case of refusal to pay the\ndebt, he who had given such a pledge incurred the following\npunishment: in case of death, the impossibility of obtaining burial\neither in the paternal sepulchre or in any other, and the interdiction\nof burying any one belonging to him.\u201d\n\nThis singular custom of pledging a dead body could only exist in\nEgypt, where it was a religious obligation to preserve the body, and\nan infamy not to give funeral honors to deceased parents.\n\nThe administration of justice in Egypt excited the admiration of the\nphilosophers and legislators of antiquity. Diodorus, who studied their\nsystem, found it superior to that of other countries. To enable the\nreader to judge for himself, we shall give the essential details\nconcerning it. \u201cThe Egyptians,\u201d says he, \u201chave carefully considered        75\nthe judicial power, persuaded that the acts of a tribunal have a\ntwofold influence upon social life. It is evident that the punishment\nof the guilty and the protection of the injured are the best means of\nrepressing crime. They knew, if the fear of justice could be done away\nwith by bribes and corruption, it would lead to the ruin of society.\nThey therefore chose judges from the chief inhabitants of the most\ncelebrated cities, Heliopolis, Thebes, and Memphis. Each of these\ncities furnished ten, who composed the tribunal, which might be\ncompared to the Areopagus of Athens or the Senate of Laced\u00e6mon. These\nthirty judges chose a president from their number, and the city to\nwhich he belonged sent another judge to replace him. These judges were\nsupported at the expense of the king, and their salary was very\nconsiderable....\u201d\n\nThe plaintiff in person stated his grievances, and the accused\ndefended himself. There were no counsellors, \u201cthe Egyptians being of\nthe opinion that they only obscure a cause by their pleadings.... In\nfact, it is not rare,\u201d adds Diodorus, \u201cto see the most experienced\nmagistrates swayed by the power of a deceitful tongue, aiming at\neffect, and seeking only to excite compassion.\u201d\n\nThis organization seems adapted to secure the equity and impartiality\ndesirable in the administration of justice. The selection of the\njudges from the principal citizens of the country, and their large\nsalaries, guaranteed their ability and independence. At the same time,\nthe restricted number of judges shows how rare lawsuits were in Egypt.\nIt must have been so in a nation so wisely governed, in which order\nand peace reigned among all classes and in all families, and where\nthe interests of every one were guaranteed and protected.\n\nThe study of the inscriptions shows that the civil offices were filled\nby citizens belonging to the sacerdotal and military classes.[30] Were\nthese functions hereditary? The stability of the Egyptian institutions\nallows us to believe the transmission of the public duties must have\nbeen generally by inheritance.\n\nA monument in the museum of Leyden shows us a family of the beginning\nof the twelfth dynasty, which for many successive generations was\nemployed in the distribution of water in the district of Abydos.[31]\nBut more important duties, requiring greater personal capacity or a\nspecial commission from public authority, must have been at the\nnomination of the kings or the governors of the nomes.\n\n\u201cA great number of administrative reports and fragments of registers\nof the public accounts are found in the papyri still preserved.\n\n\u201cThe services employing the greatest number, and the most able men,\nwere those of the public works, the army, and the administration of\nthe revenues of the kingdom. Coined money was unknown,[32] all the\ntaxes were collected in kind. There were three divisions on the land\naccording to the nature of the rents: the canal (maou) paid its\ntribute in fish, the arable land (ouou) in cereals, and the marshes\n(pehou) in heads of cattle. A register was carefully kept, with an\naccount of the changes, a statement of all the kinds of land in each\ndistrict, and the names of the owners.\n\n\u201c... Many contracts of sales and rents of land and houses, drawn up        76\non papyrus, have been found among the family papers of the dead. They\nshow with what guarantees and careful formalities property was\nprotected in ancient Egypt.\u201d[33]\n\nBy this sketch, however incomplete, of the laws and institutions of\nancient Egypt, we see they were, as Bossuet says,[34] \u201csimple, full of\njustice, and of a kind to unite the nation. The best thing among all\nthese excellent laws was--that every one was trained to observe them.\nA new custom was a wonder in Egypt. Everything was done in the same\nmanner, and their exactness in little things made them exact in great\nones. Therefore, there never was a people that preserved its laws and\ncustoms a longer time.\u201d\n\n\n                                 V.\n\n     A SUMMARY OF PRINCIPAL FEATURES OF THE SOCIAL ORGANIZATION.\n\nWe shall now give a brief review of the social and political\ninstitutions of ancient Egypt.\n\nThe priesthood, the guardian of religion and the laws, and the\npromoter of morality, was rendered perpetual by hereditary\ntransmission in the sacerdotal families.\n\nThe army, the guardian of civil and political life, and the maintainer\nof order, was rendered perpetual by hereditary transmission in the\nmilitary families.\n\nLabor, the source of national and individual vigor, was rendered\nperpetual by the hereditary transmission of the agricultural or\nindustrial pursuits in the families of the agriculturists and artisans.\n\nAuthority, the organ of the national will, was maintained in its unity\nand perpetuity, by hereditary transmission in the royal family.\n\nAnd all these classes, all these families, were guaranteed in their\nindependence by the unchangeableness of their members, and the\nproprietorship of the soil and the trades.\n\nSuch were the foundations of the social constitution of Egypt.\n\nWith such fine order, to borrow the language of Bossuet, there was no\nplace for anarchy or oppression. In fact, society was preserved from\nthe abuse of power by the fundamental law of hereditary professions,\nwhich, ensuring to each family a fixed employment and an independent\nexistence, prevented the arbitrary changes of men and property, so\nthat opposition was not, as M. de Bonald happily says, in men, but in\nthe institutions.[35]\n\nIt was by this combined action of the different social grades, that\nis, of royalty, the priesthood, the army, and the corporations devoted\nto manual labor, that Egypt attained such a degree of civilization,\nwhich left so great an impress on the ancient world, and the vestiges\nof which still appear so worthy of attention.\n\nIn consequence of this wise and powerful organization, peace and\nharmony seemed to have a long and unbroken reign in Egypt. The first\nsymptoms of disorder and tyranny only appear under the kings of the\nfourth dynasty. When the knowledge of the true God was almost effaced\nfrom the memory of man, the kings, regarded with religious veneration,\nset themselves up for gods, and pride, the source of despotism,            77\nentered their hearts. After overthrowing, or at least changing, the\nnature of the national religion, they favored with all their might the\nintroduction of polytheism, which placed them on the altars, and gave\na divine authority to their power. \u201cThe priests informed me,\u201d says\nHerodotus, \u201cthat, until Rhamsinite, equity prevailed in Egypt, and the\nprosperity of the country was great. But after him Cheops (Khoufou,\nthe builder of the great pyramid) reigned, and the people suffered all\nkinds of miseries. First, he closed the temples and forbade the\noffering of sacrifices; then he forced the Egyptians to labor for\nhim.\u201d This tradition of the impiety of the first designer of the\npyramids is found in the extracts from Manethon, but with an important\naddition: \u201cSuphis, who built the largest pyramid, attributed by\nHerodotus to Cheops, was at first a despiser of the gods, but he\nafterward repented and wrote a sacred book, greatly esteemed by the\nEgyptians.\u201d[36]\n\nThis assertion of the national historian is confirmed by the\ndiscoveries of modern science. A stone found near the great pyramids\ncontains a valuable inscription respecting the ancient history of\nEgypt. \u201cIt appears from this inscription,\u201d says Mariette, \u201cthat Cheops\nrestored a temple already standing (dedicated to Isis), assigning\nrevenues to it in sacred offerings, and replaced the statues of gold,\nsilver, bronze, and wood, which adorned the sanctuary....\n\n\u201cWe see by this,\u201d adds the learned arch\u00e6ologist, \u201cthat, even at that\nextremely remote period, Egyptian civilization shone forth with the\ngreatest brilliancy.\u201d[37]\n\nWe also see that the royal despotism could not long prevail against\nthe powerful social organization of which we have given a sketch, for,\nin re-establishing the worship of Isis, Cheops doubtless restored at\nthe same time the national institutions, the violation of which has\nleft so marked a trace in the historic traditions of Egypt.\n\nTo show our impartiality, we ought to state that many modern\nhistorians have judged Egyptian royalty much more severely than we.\nAmong them, M. Fran\u00e7ois Lenormant may be particularly mentioned.\n\n\u201cFrom the time of the oldest dynasties,\u201d says he, \u201cwe see existing\nthis boundless respect for royalty, which became a genuine worship,\nand made Pharaoh the visible god of his subjects. The Egyptian\nmonarchs were more than sovereign pontiffs, they were real\ndivinities.... They identified themselves with the great divinity\nHorus because, as an inscription says: \u2018The king is the image of Ra\n(the sun-god) among the living.\u2019\n\n\u201cIt is easily understood what a prestige was given to the sovereign\npower in Egypt by such an explanation of royalty. This power, already\nso great among the Asiatic nations adjoining that country, assumed the\ncharacter of genuine idolatry. The Egyptians were, with respect to\ntheir king, only trembling slaves, obliged by religion even to blindly\nexecute his orders. The highest and most powerful functionaries were\nonly the humble servants of Pharaoh.... For this _r\u00e9gime_ to last so\nmany ages with no notable modification, the Egyptians must have been\nprofoundly convinced that the government they were under emanated from\nthe divine will.[38]\n\nEgyptian society stood on so firm a basis that it could be oppressed,      78\nbut not overthrown, by the despotism of its kings. Property was so\nwell secured by the general law of inheritance, the sacerdotal and\nmilitary aristocracy was so firmly established in its independence,\nthat the first excess of power only affected the laboring classes.\nUnable to dispose of the property of their subjects, the kings\nappropriated, as J. J. Rousseau justly remarks, \u201crather men\u2019s arms\nthan their purse.\u201d It was thus they effected the gigantic work of\nerecting the pyramids by the enforced labors of a whole nation.\nProperty was spared, but humanity was oppressed.\n\n                          TO BE CONTINUED.\n\n\n     [12] Diodorus. History thus confirms the Scriptures:\n     \u201cFrom that time unto this day, in the whole land of Egypt,\n     the fifth part is paid to the king, and it is become as a\n     law, except the land of the priests, which was free from\n     this covenant\u201d (Gen. xlvii. 26). This privilege was not\n     always preserved. The Rosetta inscription informs us that\n     the sacred lands paid annually into the royal treasury an\n     _artabe_ for each _aroure_ of land, and an amphora\n     of wine for every aroure of vineyard.\n\n     [13] _Egypte ancienne_, p. 111.\n\n     [14] Chemistry comes from Chemi--which means\n     Egypt.--TR.\n\n     [15] We have borrowed from Champollion most of this\n     account of the services rendered by the priesthood to the\n     Egyptian nation. It is true, it only gives the favorable\n     side of that class, but, in speaking of the religion of the\n     country, we shall endeavor to complete the picture and\n     present it in its true light.\n\n     [16] The Rosetta Stone was among the valuable antiquities\n     collected by the French expedition into Egypt, and given up\n     to the English at the surrender at Alexandria. It was of\n     black basalt, about three feet by two. The inscription on it\n     was in three kinds of writing: the hieroglyphic, the demotic\n     or enchorial, and the Greek. The upper and lower portions of\n     the stone were broken and injured, but the demotic\n     inscription was perfect. The Greek inscription was a key to\n     the others, from which a complete hieroglyphic alphabet was\n     composed.--TR.\n\n     [17] Of the reign of Ptolemy.--TR.\n\n     [18] From Champollion-Figeac\u2019s translation.\n\n     [19] \u201cThe priests represented Psammetichus as the first\n     Egyptian king to violate the sacerdotal rule limiting\n     the king\u2019s ration of wine.\u201d--Strabo, _Geogr._ xvii.\n\n     [20] _Herodotus_, ii. Diodorus confirms this account, but\n     its authenticity has been disputed by declaring that \u201cthe\n     garrison of Elephantine, comprising only some hundreds or\n     thousands of warriors, was the only one that could escape\n     into Ethiopia.\u201d It was doubtless easier for this garrison to\n     cross the frontier which it was appointed to guard; but,\n     supposing the Egyptian soldiers, dissatisfied with the\n     violation of their privileges, had concerted among\n     themselves, as Herodotus declares, we do not see how King\n     Psammetichus could have hindered the departure of so\n     formidable an army. Besides, Herodotus adds that he saw in\n     Ethiopia a people known under the name of _Automoles_\n     (deserters), descendants of these Egyptian warriors. This\n     testimony is the more credible because Herodotus made the\n     journey not more than 150 or 160 years after the death of\n     Psammetichus.\n\n     [21] Mariette.\n\n     [22] De Bonald, _Th\u00e9orie du Pouvoir_, i. 170.\n\n     [23] Acts of the Apostles, vii. 22.\n\n     [24] Mariette: _Aper\u00e7u de l\u2019Histoire d\u2019Egypte_, pp. 10 and 19.\n\n     [25] St. Paul says: \u201c_Qui non laborat non manducet_.\u201d\n\n     [26] _Herodotus_, lib. ii.\n\n     [27] _Diodorus_, lib. i.\n\n     [28] _Diodorus_, lib. i.\n\n     [29] From \u03c3\u03b5\u03af\u03c9, _I shake off_, and \u1f04\u03c7\u03b8\u03bf\u03c2, _burden_. See\n     Plutarch, _Life of Solon_, xiv.\n\n     [30] Amp\u00e8re, _Des Castes, etc., dans l\u2019ancienne\n     Egypte_.\n\n     [31] Letter from M. de Roug\u00e9 \u00e0 M. Leemans, _Revue\n     Arch\u00e9ol._, vol. xii.\n\n     [32] We have seen by the law respecting loans, attributed\n     to King Bocchoris, that coined money was known to the\n     Egyptians at least eight centuries B.C.\n\n     [33] F. Lenormant, _Manuel d\u2019Hist. ancienne_.\n\n     [34] _Discours sur l\u2019Hist. univ._: \u201cThe Egyptians observe\n     the customs of their fathers, and adopt no new ones,\u201d says\n     Herodotus.\n\n     [35] _Th\u00e9orie du Pouvoir_, vol. i. book 1. From this work,\n     now consulted so little, but nevertheless full of remarkable\n     views respecting the different systems of social\n     organization, we have taken the plan of this _\u00e9tude_ of the\n     political institutions of ancient Egypt.\n\n     [36] Eusebius, _apud Sync._ vol.\n\n     [37] _Notice du Mus\u00e9e de Boulaq_, p. 185.\n\n     [38] F. Lenormant, _Manuel d\u2019Hist. anc._, vol. i. p. 334.\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n                       A WEEK AT LAKE GEORGE.\n\n\nMost of our merchant readers will be able to recall a thousand\npleasant reminiscences or anecdotes of the firm of Hawkins & Smith,\nwholesale cloth dealers, of our great metropolis. Mr. Hawkins is the\ndapper, fluent, old English gentleman, who meets all callers upon the\nhouse. He appears to be the very life of the firm, and sells the\ncounters and shelves as clean as his own smoothly shaved, fair little\nface. He is fond of boasting that he never kept a piece of goods\nthrough two whole seasons. He is the only member of the firm with whom\nour agents and correspondents are acquainted. Rarely, indeed, does it\nenter anybody\u2019s head to inquire for Mr. Smith. But a silent,\nsquarely-built, gray-eyed man, never to be seen in the salesroom, and\nonly in the office at the earliest hours, looks as if he might be\ncalled Smith, or any other practically-sounding name; and on closer\ninspection this same individual appears to possess those qualities\nwhich would fit one to do and endure the grinding, screwing, and\npounding, the stern refusing and energetic demanding, connected with\nthe business of such a distinguished firm. Smith never boasts. He has\na disagreeable way of chuckling, when he observes, before dismissing\nan idle employee, that _he_ (Smith) came here (to New York) in his own\nschooner from home (Rhode Island) and, in six months, bought his share\nin the present business. Mr. Hawkins never alludes to him in\nconversation, but always greets him with marked respect, and, when\nlate to business, with a nervous flush quite unpleasant to witness. It\nhas been said by enemies of the firm that Hawkins is a first-class\nsalesman because Smith does all the buying; and many quaint\nexpressions have arisen regarding the fate of the American eagle\nwhenever a certain coin passes between old Smith\u2019s thumb and\nforefinger.\n\nAny one who has so far penetrated the nether gloom of our first story\nsalesroom as to peep behind the little railing on the high desk, has\nseen a tall, pale, blue-eyed young man, with closely-trimmed whiskers,\nbending over the gas-lit figures and folios, the mysteries of Hawkins\n& Smith. Five years in this Hades, wearing and puzzling over the           79\nperpetual riddle before him, have worked a slight wrinkle just between\nhis brows, and bent his thin figure, and even blanched his delicate\nhands and hollow cheeks; but he is no more a demon or ghost than you\nor I, or even Mr. Hawkins himself, but the jolliest and best of jolly\ngood fellows. If you have long known Jack Peters, and acknowledged\nthis, be civil to me, dear reader, henceforth, for his sake, for I am\nthis book-keeper\u2019s first cousin, George Peters.\n\nAsk the boys in the first floor whom old Smith watches most. They will\ntell you, with a laugh, the new clerk at the first counter. Ask Mr.\nHawkins whom he put at the first counter because he likes Jack Peters.\nHe will answer, George Peters, his cousin. Ask Mr. Smith who the clerk\nat the first counter is. He will answer, \u201cAn infernal fool that\nHawkins picked up, because he always wants a good-looking\nfigure-head.\u201d\n\nThis last remark is historical, and I quote it to illustrate many\nsubjects which vanity, modesty, and respect for my employers alike\nrender delicate to me, George Peters.\n\nOn a certain Monday evening in July last, Jack and I stood in the\ndread presence of Hawkins and Smith, in the inner circle of the gloom.\n\n\u201cMr. Peters,\u201d said Hawkins, looking at both of us as blandly as man\ncould look in such a place, \u201cwe have both concluded that we can better\nspare you this week than next. Nothing will be going on, and so you\nhad better be going off. Ah! ha! And you, my young friend, although it\nis not customary to grant vacation to such recent employees, had\nbetter go off, too, on account of your cousin--entirely on his\naccount!\u201d added the little gentleman, dexterously, glancing the last\npart of his speech from me to his partner.\n\nJack nodded his thanks, and I endeavored to thaw the cold stare of the\njunior partner by a warm burst of gratitude, not altogether feigned.\nHis glance, indeed, altered, but only to a sneer, and the labials of\nthe word \u201cpuppy\u201d were so distinctly formed that I could scarcely keep\nfrom disarranging them by a hearty slap.\n\nFeeling checked and snubbed, I walked with Jack out of the store, but\nsoon these feelings gave place to the excitement of our vacation.\n\n\u201cJack, are the \u2018traps\u2019 all packed?\u201d\n\n\u201cEverything is ready; all we have to do is to get aboard the boat.\nHawkins told me on Saturday that I might get ready, but that it was\nnecessary to stay over Monday in order to get you off with me. So I\nleft word at home to have everything sent down by the boy.\u201d\n\nWe turned the corner, and, in a few minutes, were wandering through\nthe cabins and gangways of the Albany boat. The \u201cboy\u201d on whom Jack had\nrelied so confidently did not make his appearance until the last\nmoment, and then professed utter ignorance of any lunch-basket. Jack\nwas certain that he had put it with the trunk and satchels, and was\nbut partially convinced when he found it, on our return, in the\nwardrobe of his bedroom. But we were on board of the _St. John_, and\nit only made a difference of two dollars in the cost of our supper.\n\nYes, dear reader, we were on board of the _St. John_, and moving up\nthe Hudson; and, if you are pleased at finding us on our way at last,\njudge with what feelings we turned from the brick and stone of the\ngreat Babylon behind us to the towering palisades, the groves, and\nhills, and happy rural sights about us. Jack and I were unable to          80\nget a state-room; all had been secured before the boat left the wharf.\nThis, however, afforded little matter for regret, as we sailed through\nmoonlight and a warm breeze beneath the gloomy Highlands, and watched\nthe lights of the barges and tow-boats, like floating cities on the\ninky river. Scraps of history and romance were suggested at almost\nevery turn of the winding channel, and as we passed old Cro\u2019 Nest, the\nopening lines of the _Culprit Fay_ were forcibly recalled:\n\n    \u201c\u2019Tis the middle watch of a summer night,\n     Earth is dark, but the heavens are bright,\n     And naught is seen in the vault on high\n     But the moon and stars, and the cloudless sky,\n     And the flood which rolls its milky hue,\n     As a river of light, o\u2019er the welkin blue.\n     The moon looks down on old Cro\u2019 Nest;\n     She mellows the shades on his shaggy breast;\n     And seems his huge gray form to throw\n     In a silver cone on the wave below.\u201d\n\nThe white schooners went through their ghostly parts in a way that\nwould have shamed Wallack himself. We thought the performance of the\nsturgeons fully equal, from an artistic point of view, and, certainly,\nless objectionable from every point of view, when compared with\nanything we ever saw at the ballet; and, yet, we remembered that men\nand women were sitting wide awake through these late hours in the hot\nand crowded theatres of the city. Thus we were consoled for the loss\nof a state-room. But even in this peaceful enjoyment of nature we were\nnot without drawbacks, and in the chapter of accidents must be\nrecorded how and why we lost our places on the forward deck.\n\nScarcely had the steamer left her dock, when we were startled by a\nvoice inquiring \u201cif there would be any intrusion in case a party of\nladies and gentlemen desired to while away time by singing a few\nhymns?\u201d\n\nJack and I turned in our seats. The inquiry had proceeded\nfrom an elderly individual, of general clerical appearance, and\ncertain marks strongly indicating the specific character of the\n\u201cEvangelical\u201d school. A pair of \u201csisters\u201d hung upon either arm, and\nall three settled into chairs in the middle of the deck. His question\nhad been addressed to about two hundred ladies and gentlemen who\ncrowded the forward deck. There were evident marks of dissatisfaction,\nbut, as nobody spoke, our \u201cEvangelical\u201d friend thought proper to\nconclude that nobody was offended, and the hymn-singing commenced.\nGradually congenial spirits, drawn by the sound, were to be seen\napproaching from various parts of the boat, and when Jack and I\nreturned from supper, we found about twenty or thirty in various\nstages of excitement, and our clerical friend wrought up to a high\npitch. Another minister, with a strong but wheezy bass voice,\nannounced and intoned the hymns. At intervals in the singing, our\nfriend arose and addressed the spectators. At one time he informed\nthem that the feeling which animated the present assembly was love to\nthe Saviour. At another, he thought that perhaps there might be some\npresent who knew nothing about the Saviour; to such he would apply the\nwords of the apostle, \u201cBe ye followers of me, as I am of Christ.\u201d He\nsaid that he had been a child of God for thirty years, and knew by a\ncertain assurance that he was a saved man. Hallelujah!\n\n\u201cEvangelical\u201d blood was up, and our friend turned from the\ncontemplation of his own happy lot to worry something or somebody.\nJack\u2019s cigar caught his eye. It was the red rag to the bull.\n\n\u201cYoung man! there ain\u2019t no smokin\u2019-car in heaven. There ain\u2019t no           81\nfor\u2019ard deck where you can puff that stinkin\u2019 weed of your\u2019n!\u201d\n\nJack expressed a forcible denial in an undertone, and, before I could\nnudge him, broke out with:\n\n\u201cI\u2019d like to know what the Bible says against smoking?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou would, young man, would ye? Well, I\u2019m glad you would. I\u2019m glad\nyou have asked that question. Well, sir, the Bible says, \u2018Let no\nfilthy communication proceed out of thy mouth\u2019; and if that ar smoke\nain\u2019t a \u2018filthy communication,\u2019 I\u2019d like to know what is.\u201d\n\nThere was a general roar. \u201cCome along, Jack,\u201d said I, \u201cyou are a\nPapist, and can\u2019t argue against a \u2018free Bible.\u2019\u201d So, retiring to the\nafter-deck, which was covered, and concealed much of the landscape, we\nleft our Methodist friends triumphantly shouting and keeping folks\nawake up to a late hour.\n\nAs the night passed, and our fellow-travellers dropped off one by one\nto doze in their state-rooms or on the sofas of the cabins, we were\nleft alone. Gradually we retired within ourselves, and shut the doors\nof our senses.\n\n\u201cWake up, old fellow, we are nearly in!\u201d\n\nI opened my eyes, and saw Jack\u2019s pale face smiling over my shoulders.\n\nWe landed at Albany, and after breakfast found ourselves settled in\nthe Rensselaer and Saratoga cars, and, changing trains at Fort Edward,\narrived at Glenn\u2019s Falls in about three hours.\n\nJack, who had often made the trip before, had set me reading _The\nLeather Stocking Series_, and I positively refused to budge from\nthe town of Glenn\u2019s Falls until we had visited the rapids and\ndescended into the cave which Cooper has immortalized in the first\nchapters of his most interesting romance, _The Last of the Mohicans_.\nThe falling in of the rock at different periods, and the low stage of\nthe water in the summer season, prevented us from recognizing the old\nshelter of Hawkeye and his party.\n\nBut there is the cave, and there are the rapids--both are shrines of\nAmerican legend; and we felt better pleased with ourselves for our\npilgrimage. Of course we had missed the stage which takes passengers\nfrom the station to Caldwell at the head of Lake George. We wandered a\nshort time about town, found out that there were a number of Catholics\nin it, and that its president, Mr. Keenan, was a well-known Irish\nCatholic. We also visited a beautiful church, the finest in the town,\nrecently completed by Father McDermott, the pastor of the\nEnglish-speaking Catholic congregation, there being also a\nFrench-Canadian parish in the place.\n\nAs may be easily imagined, we had no mind to walk over to the lake, or\nto pay ten dollars for a vehicle to carry us as many miles, and Jack\nwas beginning to grumble at my curiosity when we met a farmer\u2019s\nwagon--with a farmer in it, of course. The latter offered to take us\nover for fifty cents a head, as he was going in the same direction.\nNever was there a better piece of good luck. There are several Scotch\nfamilies settled on French Mountain, at the head of the lake; our\ndriver was one of their patriarchs. He literally poured out funny\nstories of the \u201ckirk\u201d and \u201cdominie\u201d; and although some of the jokes\nwere very nearly as broad as they were long, Jack and I were forced to\nhold our sides while the \u201cgudeman\u201d sparkled and foamed, like a certain\nbrown export from his native country.\n\nDuring a momentary lull in the conversation, I took occasion to\ninquire with respect to a black woolly-coated dog, who followed the        82\nwagon, if he were a good hunter. \u201cYes,\u201d said Jack, with a contemptuous\nsmile at the subject of my inquiry. \u201cHe is what is called a\nbeef-hound.\u201d\n\n\u201cHoot, mon,\u201d said his owner, \u201cthat dog would tree a grasshopper up a\nmullen-stalk.\u201d\n\nIt was in no sad or poetical mood that we passed by \u201cWilliams\u2019s\nMonument\u201d and the scene of Hendrick\u2019s death and Dieskau\u2019s defeat, or\nsaw at \u201cBloody Pond\u201d the lilies bending over the sedge and ooze which\nserved of old as the last resting-place of many a brave young son of\nFrance. We did not think of the fierce struggle which had here\nconfirmed our Anglo-Saxon forefathers in possession of this soil. All\nthis comes up now as I write; for, certainly no sober thought entered\nour brains until, as we turned round a mountain-side, I saw Jack take\noff his hat. I looked in the direction of his respectful nod, and--oh!\nwhat a vision!--the deep blue lake sank from view in the embrace of\nthe distant mountains. Its winding shores and secret bays, curtained\nwith veils of mist hanging in festoons from boughs of cedar, birch,\nmaple, and chestnut, were like enchantment in their endless variety of\nform and shade. No less the work of magic were the islands. These,\nowing to the reflection of the water, appeared to hang over its\nsurface as the clouds seemed to hang over the peaks above. To stand\nsuddenly in view of such a sight might have startled and awed even\nlighter souls than ours. Here, indeed, our hearts were lifted up and\nthrilled as we thought of the gray-haired apostle and martyr, the\nfirst European who sailed upon the water before us--the Jesuit Father\nJogues, who also gave it on the eve of Corpus Christi its original\nname--Lac du Saint-Sacrament. Our Protestant tradition, following the\ncourtier taste of Sir William Johnson, has handed down the name of\nLake George, but we trust that the hope of every lover of American\nantiquity who has visited its shores may not prove vain, and that\ntime, in doing justice to all, will restore to the lake its first true\nand lovely title.\n\nA few small sails on the water, and the smoke from the village at our\nfeet, broke the spell and reminded us that we were still among the\nhaunts of man.\n\nCaldwell is made up of a courthouse, several churches, stores, hotels,\nand shops, a saw-mill, and a few streets of separated dwelling-houses.\nThe grand hotel is near the site once occupied by Fort William Henry,\nand is called by that name, and looks towards Ticonderoga, although\nthe view is cut off midway by the windings of the lake. Old Fort\nGeorge is overgrown with cedars and shrubs, and only a few feet of\nruined bastion remain. The scene of the massacre of Fort William Henry\nis now, as nearly as we could reckon from Mr. Cooper\u2019s description, a\nswamp. Time, however, is said to have greatly altered the topography\nof the shore at this point, and certainly it is hard to locate\nMontcalm\u2019s old camping-ground during the siege described in _The\nLast of the Mohicans_.\n\nLeaving such questions to the antiquarian, perhaps, dear reader, you\nwill ask one with a practical regard for the present and future,\nnamely, How do they provide for their guests at the Fort William\nHenry? Alas! that were indeed an ill-timed question for us. Perhaps,\nif I had asked the proprietor to allow me to report upon his fare in\nthe pages of THE CATHOLIC WORLD, he would have done so in a manner\nsatisfactory to all parties; but, as no such brilliant idea occurred\nat that time, I am forced to confess that I was afraid that it was         83\ntoo good. Be it said to our shame, we did not promenade upon the\nmagnificent piazza, nor did we stop to taste the alluring fare of the\nFort William Henry. What else did we come for? Why, to see Lake\nGeorge, of course, and to have a good time; and we did both, although\nwe went without lunch for some hours that day.\n\nScarcely had I claimed our baggage at the stage-office, when Jack came\nup from the beach with a radiant countenance. \u201cIt\u2019s all right!\u201d said\nhe, \u201cI\u2019ve got just the boat we want. Five dollars for the rest of the\nweek. Take hold of that trunk, and we\u2019ll get under way as soon as\npossible.\u201d\n\nPerhaps, dear reader, in your wanderings through life it has never\nbeen your happy lot to be absolute master of the craft on which you\nare sailing. Do you think that you have fathomed the mystery of such\nlives as those of Captain Kidd and Admiral Semmes?\n\nDo you imagine that life on the ocean wave means sleeping in a berth\nand pacing a quarter-deck? Ah! that was truly independence day to us.\nThe wind blew fresh and strong. We hoisted our india-rubber blanket on\nan oar. Coats and collars were packed away in the satchel, our \u201cworst\u201d\nstraw hats were pulled down over our eyes, and, as we sat with\nloosened flannel in the bottom of our heavy skiff, and listened to the\nrippling water, we quite forgot that it was past lunch-time. The warm\nsouth breeze, and that peculiar fragrance which popular fancy has\nassociated with the name of cavendish, brought us in full sympathy\nwith the naval adventurers of other days, and we blessed the memory of\nSir Walter Raleigh, \u201cas we sailed.\u201d\n\nThe upper portion of the lake, through which we are now passing, though\nsurrounded by hills, has enough farming land and farm-houses on their\nslopes to give it that placid, tranquil beauty which is always\nassociated with views on the English waters. As it widened from\nthree-quarters to as many full miles, we passed several beautiful\nresidences, two of them belonging to Messrs. Price and Hayden of New\nYork City. Opposite these, on the eastern shore, is a handsome\nproperty belonging to Charles O\u2019Conor, Esq., one of the most\ndistinguished members of the New York bar, and well known throughout\nthe United States. Just abreast Diamond Island is the residence of Mr.\nCramer, president of the Rensselaer and Saratoga Railroad, and while\nsailing past the lovely group of islands known as the \u201cThree Sisters,\u201d\nthe property of Judge Edmonds, we saw beyond them the white walls of\nhis cottage peeping out from the green foliage of the western shore,\nabout three miles and a half from Caldwell.\n\nAs the sun sank below Mount Cathead, back of the pretty little village\nof Bolton, we landed on a little islet in the Narrows near Fourteen\nMile Island.\n\nI was quite curious to find out what preparations Jack had made, and\nlent a willing hand at the long narrow trunk. In the tray was a small\ncotton tent, made according to Jack\u2019s own order, and slightly larger\nthan the soldier\u2019s \u201cdog-house.\u201d A keen little axe in Jack\u2019s quick hand\nsoon provided a pair of forked uprights and four little pins, an oar\nserved for a ridge-pole, and our shelter was up before the sun was\nfairly below the real horizon. Out of the same tray came a quilt and\ntwo pairs of blankets, which I was ordered to spread on the\nindia-rubber. My task accomplished, the smell of something very much       84\nlike ham and eggs recalled me to the beach. We supped, that night, by\nthe light of our camp-fire, and it was only after a night\u2019s heavy\nsleep that I was able to examine the rest of Jack\u2019s outfit. A small\nmess-chest, which bore marks of his own clever fingers, occupied one\ndivision of the bottom of the trunk. The rest of it was shared by\napartments for clothing, provisions, and a humble assortment of\nfishing-tackle and shooting material. The gun lay strapped to one side\nof the trunk, and a couple of rods on the other.\n\n\u201cVery neat, Jack,\u201d said I.\n\n\u201cYou are right; I built it myself, all except the walls and roof,\nseven years ago.\u201d\n\nI am sorry to confess that I did not get up that morning until\nbreakfast was ready. Jack did not complain, but I saw by his quiet\nsmile that some kind of an apology was necessary.\n\n\u201cJack, I\u2019m as stiff as a clotheshorse, and sore from head to foot.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy,\u201d he asked, \u201cdidn\u2019t you dig holes for your hips and shoulders, as\nthe Indians do?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe holes were all made, only they were in the wrong places.\u201d\n\nAfter breakfast, we broke up our camp and rowed over to Fourteen Mile\nIsland. On the way we had another view of Bolton, behind us, and the\ncountless islands in the Narrows, through which we were shortly to\nsail. The little village of Bolton lies on the western shore opposite\nFourteen Mile Island. It contains a hotel, several boarding-houses, a\npretty little P. E. church, and a forest of flags, every house seeming\nto have its own staff. One of the islands, near Bolton, was shown us\nas the point of view from which Kensett\u2019s picture of the Narrows was\npainted. At Fourteen Mile Island we found a quiet little hotel, which\nserves as a dining-place for excursionists from Caldwell. A few\nregular boarders seemed to be enjoying themselves, and I noticed an\nartist\u2019s easel and umbrella on the porch.\n\nWe soon left with a good supply of butter, eggs, milk, and fresh\nbread. After rowing a few miles through the maze of islands in the\nNarrows, one of which is occupied by a hermit artist named Hill, a\n\u201ctranscendentalist,\u201d the wind arose, and we sailed under the shadow of\nBlack Mountain through the wildest portion of the lake. On the western\nshore, savage cliffs were piled in utter confusion, now rising, like\nthe Hudson River Palisades, in solid walls above a mass of\n_d\u00e9bris_, now hanging in gigantic masses over the crystal abyss below.\nOn the eastern shore, Black Mountain rises above any other height on\nthe lake, and the view which we beheld as we passed from Fourteen Mile\nIsland down the Narrows is one of the finest in the world. Now we were\ndrifting under the cliffs at the base of the mountain, and, looking up\nits abrupt sides--a series of rocky spurs covered principally with\nhemlocks and cedar--we saw two eagles soaring above the thin clouds\nwhich floated half-way up. Throughout this portion the lake varies\nfrom one to two miles in width.\n\nOh! what a cozy little nest in the hills at the northern end of Black\nMountain! A few farms, and a sleepy old mill that looks as if it never\nwas made to run, lie on the sunny slope retiring into the hills which\nforms a pass over to Whitehall. No wonder they call it the \u201cBosom!\u201d\n\nHere, in a little graveyard, we saw the tombstone of a Revolutionary\nsoldier, and the old farm-house, at which we stopped for dinner, with\nits loom and spindle and bustling old housewife, formed a good\nspecimen of that phase of American life which is rapidly passing           85\naway for ever.\n\nWhile our meal was being cooked, Jack disappeared with his rod. I had\na long talk with the mistress of the house. She was a \u201cFree-will\nBaptist\u201d and very much opposed to the Irish and Catholics generally.\nHer objections to the former were thus curtly summed up, \u201cThe critters\nget rich off a rock, and have sich litters of children.\u201d\n\nDuring the ensuing conversation she remarked, \u201cI have four sons, and\nevery one of them professors.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh!\u201d said I, in all simplicity, \u201cthey must be doing very well; but\nwhat do they teach?\u201d\n\n\u201cTeach?--they don\u2019t teach nothing. I said they were professors.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, then,\u201d I asked, \u201cwhat do they profess?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, professors of religion, of course,\u201d answered the good\ndame--\u201cevery one of \u2018em baptized in yon lake. Oh! it was a glor\u2019ous\nsight!\u201d\n\nThe good old lady--for she was past eighty--showed me her dairy, and\napartments of the house which she said were usually occupied by\nboarders at this time of the year. She had woven all the carpets,\nquilts, towels, napkins, and table-cloths of the whole establishment,\nand everything looked very neat and old-fashioned.\n\n\u201cI\u2019m mighty sorry you have to hurry off,\u201d said she, \u201cI could make you\nthe nicest chowder you ever tasted. My man knows just where to get the\nfish. A few years ago we sent off, at once, one hundred and fifty\npounds of clean lake trout.\u201d\n\nI, too, was sorry that we were obliged to hasten on our journey, as I\nthought, for the first time since we started, of Hawkins & Smith and a\nlong year in the gloomy salesroom.\n\nJack came late for dinner with five small brook-trout in his hand.\n\n\u201cHulloa, old fellow, where did you get those?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! there\u2019s a little pool on the hillside up yonder,\u201d answered Jack,\npointing as he spoke, \u201cI always find two or three there.\u201d\n\nAfter paying for our dinner, visiting an Indian family who claim to be\nthe genuine \u201cLast of the Mohicans,\u201d we bade farewell to our hostess\nand one of the \u201cprofessors,\u201d who had appeared in the meanwhile, and\nwere again afloat. We passed Sabbath Day Point, about two miles above\n\u201cThe Bosom\u201d on the opposite shore. The former derived its name from\nhaving served as a resting-place to Abercrombie\u2019s expedition; it was\nthe scene of several bloody skirmishes during the French and Indian\nwar and also during the Revolution.\n\nThe lake now widens somewhat, and the mountains decrease in height.\nTwo points of land overlapping from opposite sides close up the\nnorthern view and form a large circular basin opposite the little\nvillage of Hague, situated on the western shore about six or seven\nmiles from the lower end of the lake. One of the points alluded to is\na craggy spur which seems to spring directly out of the depths of the\nwater; it is on the eastern shore, and is called Anthony\u2019s Nose. The\nwestern point is a well-shaded lawn of about one hundred and fifty\nacres, with a winding irregular shore, and containing a number of\nlarge hickory and chestnut trees.\n\nThe robins were hopping about the lawn as we landed; the thrush,\nsinging his vesper, made a special commemoration of the faithful newly\narrived; the greedy cat-bird, a sleek-coated sharper, approached to\nsee what was to be made off the strangers; while the politic\nred-squirrels, scampering off at sight of our tent to discuss the\nobject and intent of this invasion, remained at a respectful distance\nwhile Jack\u2019s trout were frying over the little camp-fire now gleaming      86\nin the twilight.\n\nSupper having been despatched, I heard Jack approaching, while engaged\nin washing the dishes on the beach--an occupation which time and place\ncan often rob of all its offensiveness, wherefore, most delicate of\nreaders, I am bold enough to mention it.\n\nI looked at Jack from my towel and tin plates, and great was my\nastonishment to behold him in complete hunting-dress, gun in hand, and\nall accoutred for the chase.\n\n\u201cWhy, Jack! what\u2019s afoot?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo game yet,\u201d he answered, smiling; \u201cbut I\u2019m to leave you to-night.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat! to sleep here all by myself?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, yes--you are not afraid, are you?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, not afraid exactly.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe fact is,\u201d said Jack, \u201ca fellow over at Hague promised me a\ndeer-hunt last year, and if I can find him to-night I shall go out\nwith him to-morrow. You can\u2019t shoot, have no gun, and are not much of\na walker, so I am sure you would be bored to death.\u201d (I nodded.) Jack\ncontinued, \u201cI will walk over to-night, and if I do not meet the hunter\nwill be back bright and early to-morrow morning. If I do not come\nthen, please row over for me to-morrow evening.\u201d\n\n\u201cAll right, _mon capitaine_.\u201d And, with a wave of the hand, Jack\ndeparted, and I was alone.\n\nThe embers of the camp-fire began to brighten as the darkness fell.\nThe birds and squirrels disappeared. The trunk was stowed safely\ntogether with its mess-chest and provisions, and the blankets were\nspread in the little tent; the milk-jug and butter-bowl were secured\nby stones in the water, in order to keep them cool. I began my rosary\nfor night prayers, and roamed through the grove over to the northern\nside of the point, in full view of the steep promontory on the\nopposite shore. Beyond our own smooth camping-ground the western shore\nsurged up again in all its former wildness. The beads passed slowly\nthrough my fingers, and it seemed as if the beauty and loneliness of\nthe scene were absorbing all my faculties, and withdrawing me from\ninstead of raising my thoughts to God and heaven.\n\nFinally the moon arose. A thousand scattered beams shot through the\ndark foliage, and lit up patches of the lawn over which I had just\npassed. The wind had died away, and the light fell in unbroken\nsplendor upon the broad mirror before me. The few thin clouds, veiling\nsmall groups of stars, the frowning cliffs and sombre woods--all were\nreduplicated in the unruffled water. Far to the south, Black Mountain\nclosed up the view, which sank in the east behind the low ranges of\nhills, all dark below the rising moon. The last bead fell from my\nfingers, and praying God to forgive anything inordinate in my\nenjoyment of his creatures, I gave up to the intoxication of the\nscene. The hours passed rapidly while I dreamed of the days of\nMontcalm and Abercrombie, and saw in fancy the fleets of canoes and\nbatteaux passing and repassing in victory and defeat the rocks upon\nwhich I was sitting. Had my mind ever reverted to the possibility of\nbeing obliged to give a public account of itself, I might have\ncomposed some lines, had some \u201cthoughts,\u201d or done something worth\nrecording. Alas, dear reader, do not consider me rude if I confess\nthat I did not think of you at that time. For, indeed, I did not think\nof anything, but left my fancy to be sported with by impressions past      87\nand present of the lovely region in which I found myself a happy\nvisitor. The cool night air brought the blood to my sunburnt cheeks.\nThe landscape swam before me, the past mingled with the present;\nfinally, the mist seemed to shroud everything. My watch was run down\npast midnght when I awoke, finding myself stretched at full length on\nthe rock. I started--where was I? what had disturbed my slumber? Was\nit the war-whoop of the Mingoes, or the friendly greeting of Uncas and\nChingacgook; but if so, where were the canoes? I raised myself slowly\non my elbow, all wet with dew, dazed by sleep and the strange scene\nabout me--when suddenly, under the shadow of the trees, and not one\nhundred feet distant, there rose from the water a shrill, fierce,\ndevilish laugh, so wild and startling that I bounded to my feet and\nfairly screamed with fright. The next instant, a large bird appeared\nfluttering on the moonlit water beyond. \u201cPshaw!\u201d said I, \u201cdidn\u2019t you\never hear a loon before?\u201d Thus addressing myself, I returned to the\ntent, and, stripping off my wet clothes, fell asleep in the blankets.\n\nI do not know exactly what time of the day it was when I awoke the\nnext morning. The sun was high, and my clothes and the tent perfectly\ndry; but I saw through its open door the steamer which leaves Caldwell\nat eight o\u2019clock, and hence concluded that it was now between ten and\neleven. I was glad enough that Jack did not appear to rebuke my\nlaziness until I came to try my hand at cooking breakfast. The fire\nwould smoke, and I could not hinder it; the ham would not broil, and I\ncould not force it. The eggs, of course, were scorched, and so was my\ntongue when I tasted the coffee, which resembled a decoction of\nshavings and bitter almonds. Quietly emptying the coffee-pot on the\ngrass, I contented myself with a cup of milk, which, however, showed\nstrong premonitory symptoms of sourness; and after bolting a huge\nstock of raw ham and scorched eggs, made up my mind that this was to\nbe the last meal without Jack.\n\nIt was very warm in the tent, so, taking the quilt and a certain small\npouch of buckskin decked with wampum, I sought the shelter of the\ngrove. Chestnut-burrs did not prevent me from choosing the shadiest\nspot, for my quilt afforded ample protection.\n\nHere, with my back to the tree, I fell into a state which might easily\nhave proved a continuation of my already protracted nap. It was not\nso, however. The bag of the medicine-man contains an antidote for\nprosiness after meals. Blue clouds of the inspiring fragrance curled\nin the still air, and the brain which might have succumbed to the\nvulgar humors of digesting pork maintained itself in a gentle,\nsubdued, intellectual state. Had I some favorite author in my hand,\nsome volume of pithy sentences furnishing themes for my morning\nmeditation, or somebody\u2019s \u201cconfessions\u201d? Alas, dear reader, I am\nforced to make a confession myself, to wit, that there was not a line\nof printed matter in all our luggage.\n\nDay-dreams and night-dreams are pretty much alike with me unless there\nbe a trifle of brilliant imagination in favor of the latter. Still, if\nany stray thoughts wandered through my brain at this time, they must\nhave been something like these: Why was it that the law of rest had to\nbe superadded to the law of labor, if not because man has turned his\nwholesome penance into a debauchery? Avarice and ambition have\ngradually mastered the human race, and he who would eat or hold his        88\nown must sweat and fight, or others will snatch it from him. By\ndegrees, the struggle has grown and deepened. First, we were shepherds\nand tillers of the soil. Childhood passed in plenty and obedience.\nPloughing and reaping came only in their seasons, and, while kings and\nprinces tended flocks, labor was worship and life was not all\ndrudgery--there was some time for happiness and God. Then came the\ncurse of cunning and trade and cities. Here began a fiercer strife,\nand, instead of the accidental miseries of drought and famine, men\nlearned to fear beggary. And, now that craft and commerce are supreme,\nslavery is universal. No more days of festival, no more years of\njubilee! You, George Peters, wretch that you are, are the bond-slave\nof Hawkins & Smith. What! will you rebel? Well, it is only a choice of\nmasters--serve you must. This pitiful vacation is only a device of old\nSmith to make you feel your real bondage. If, dear reader, you should\nperceive any other explanation of the facts which I so loosely jumbled\ntogether, remember that this was the reverie of a lazy youth, escaped\nfrom the thraldom of his counter, and basking in the fresh air and\nbeauty of Lake George. If, branching off from the great labor\nquestion, I thought of anything else, it was to compare that beauty\nwith what I had seen in pictures or read in books of other lakes. I\nhave before alluded to the placid and tranquil English character of\nthe scenery between Caldwell and Fourteen Mile Island. The farms and\nvillas, and the town of Bolton, although lying on the western shore,\nadd much to this effect, and serve to rob the eastern bank almost\nentirely of its natural air of uninhabited wildness. The sail-boats\nand skiffs and three little steamers continually plying about this\nportion of the lake, complete the impression that it is a place of\npleasure, ease, and holiday. The Narrows, completely filled with\nislands, where every stroke of the oar reveals new vistas and endless\nchanges of scene, I can compare with nothing, and, indeed, it would\nseem as if they were a unique creation. These extend for two or three\nmiles to where Black Mountain begins. And as for the rest, my\nignorance is also at a loss for a comparison, and I can only think of\nwhat Lake Como might have been if adorned with islands, if its peaks\nwere lower and covered with foliage, and if the hand of man had never\nwrought upon its native beauty.\n\nThat evening I rowed over for Jack. He had not yet arrived, although\nthe sun had set when I arrived, as agreed, at the little hotel at\nHague. Something unusual was going on, and I made various guesses as\nto the reason why so many well-dressed maids and shaven yeomen were\ngathered on the porch. Seven o\u2019clock came, and yet no Jack. I eagerly\ninquired after supper, resolved not to risk the chance of being\nobliged to depend upon myself for a cook. The dining-room had been\ncleared of every table save the one which I occupied, and shortly\nafter I had come out from supper I saw the young people crowding into\nit. I had now begun to suspect what was the matter, when an\nhonest-looking young gentleman, fresh and fragrant from a process to\nwhich he shortly afterwards urged and invited me, approached and said:\n\u201cStranger, you\u2019re camping on the p\u2019int?\u201d To this piece of information\nI nodded a genial assent.\n\n\u201cLookin\u2019 for your pardner?\u201d asked the pleasant young man. I nodded\nagain. \u201cWell, he\u2019ll be in soon. He\u2019s gone out with a fellow that           89\nnever misses this sort of thing.\u201d I had previously formed my own\nnotion of Jack\u2019s companion, and a jolly flourish on a neighboring\nviolin forestalled the necessity of inquiring as to the nature of the\n\u201cthing\u201d which exercised such an influence over him. The pleasant young\nman, however, became confidential, and added with an ingenuous air:\n\u201cThe fact is, we are going to shuffle the hoof a little to-night, and\nhe never misses anything like that. You\u2019d better come in and try it\nyourself.\u201d\n\nThen, becoming confidential in turn and glancing at my unpolished\nextremities, I suggested that perhaps the articles in question were\nnot in a condition to be shuffled. Here it was that our sympathy\nculminated, and my friend, in a burst of intimacy, proffered the\ninvitation before alluded to, with the words: \u201cCome along and slick\nup.\u201d I do not know into what folly I might have been seduced if my\ngood angel Jack had not just then appeared and rescued me.\n\n\u201cHow many deer, Jack?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! we did not so much as start one,\u201d he answered. And then asked,\n\u201cHave you had anything to eat?\u201d\n\nOn my reply, Jack said that he was glad, for he had just had his own\nsupper in the kitchen. As we rowed back to camp, Jack fell asleep in\nthe stern of the boat, while telling me how he had tramped in vain\nfrom early dawn till night.\n\nOh! how proud I felt next morning, when, after kindling the fire and\nputting on the kettle, I came back and found Jack still sleeping in\nthe tent.\n\nDear old nervous Jack! who ever saw you asleep in daytime before?\n\nQuick as the thought in my mind, he bounded up as freshly as one of\nthe deer of which he had been dreaming.\n\n\u201cCaught!\u201d he said, the old quiet smile lighting up his face as he came\nout and fell to work getting breakfast.\n\nWhen we had finished our meal and laughed over the adventures of the\nprecious day, Jack set me to catching grasshoppers, while he prepared\nthe fishing tackle.\n\nI found my occupation quite lively for a sultry morning, and not\nwithout a certain amount of adventure, as I also discovered, for one\nignorant of the precise difference between a grasshopper and a hornet.\n\nFinally, enough were caught and imprisoned in an empty wine-bottle to\nserve for bait, and Jack was sure we were going to catch a load of\nfish. My confidence in fishing was only in proportion to my\nexperience, very meagre, and after several hours fruitlessly spent in\ntrying various places, great was my astonishment when the lance-wood\nrod bent double in my hands, and the next instant a large fish\nappeared struggling on the surface of the water.\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t lose him!\u201d shouted Jack as he came forward, and snatched the\nrod out of my hands and landed the fish.\n\n\u201cA fool for luck!\u201d said my cousin. \u201cI beg your pardon, old boy, but\nthere won\u2019t be a better fish caught here this summer.\u201d It proved to be\na splendid specimen of black bass, and weighed, according to Jack\u2019s\nestimate, every ounce of six pounds. Several smaller fish of the same\nspecies, together with a few small perch, were the result of our day\u2019s\nsport. The big bass made a sufficiently large Friday dinner and\nsupper; the other fish we saved for our last breakfast.\n\nAlas! for some episode, before we row down to Ticonderoga and take the\nsteamer on Lake Champlain to Whitehall, and the cars thence to Albany      90\nand New York. Our tent did not blow away that night; and, although the\nstorm beat fiercely, not a drop of water touched us, thanks to the\nlittle furrow which Jack had traced with a sharp stick, to carry off\nthe drippings from the tent-cloth.\n\nStarting bright and early next morning, we rowed past a steep smooth\ncliff running almost perpendicularly for about four hundred feet and\nthen down into the lake.\n\n\u201cThat\u2019s \u2018Rogers\u2019s Slide,\u2019\u201d said Jack.\n\n\u201cThe deuce it is! He must have worn a stout pair of pantaloons!\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! but he didn\u2019t actually slide, you know!\u201d replied Jack, and then\nproceeded to recount the famous escape of Major Rogers in 1758, who\nhere eluded the pursuit of the Indians, and, having thrown his\nknapsack over the precipice, turned his snow-shoes and made off by\nanother route.\n\nIn a few hours, we had left our little boat attached to the steamer to\nbe taken back to Caldwell. A stage ride of several miles brought us to\nTiconderoga and Lake Champlain. That same evening, at ten o\u2019clock, we\nsnuffed the hot and fetid breath of the great metropolis, and Monday\nmorning saw us re-entering the shades of Hawkins & Smith. A word to\nJack and a stare at me were the only greetings of the junior partner,\nas he passed through the salesroom.\n\n\u201cAh, boys!\u201d said the cheery Hawkins, \u201cglad to see you; look as if\nyou\u2019ve been having a good time. Plenty of bone, muscle, and brown\nskin, eh? I guess Mr. Smith will think that it pays to give you such a\n_rest_. You haven\u2019t been wasting your money at Long Branch or\nSaratoga, I\u2019ll bet.\u201d\n\nThus ended our summer vacation; and if we did not have enough\nadventure to pass for heroes, or bag enough game for sportsmen, or see\nenough sights for artists, or recall enough of the past for\nantiquarians, or measure miles and heights enough for the\nscientific--in short, if we appear as two vulgar and thoroughly\ncommonplace clerks, smoking and boating through our holiday--take\nnote, dear reader, that even such as we can take delight in Lake\nGeorge; then, go and make the trip after your own fashion, and see if\nyou can enjoy it more or better.\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n                  THE ELEMENTS OF OUR NATIONALITY.                         91\n\n\nThe diversity of race to be found in this republic, like its rapid and\nstupendous physical and mental development, is unparalleled in\nhistory. Great nations, such as Austria, Prussia, and Russia, it is\ntrue, have been called into existence in times comparatively modern,\nbut they have been aggregations of smaller kindred states already\nestablished, attracted towards each other by mutual interests and\ntastes, or coerced into union by force of arms. With us, growth and\ngreatness, originating at different times and at places widely\nseparated, have been the result in the first instance of the\nestablishment of a wise and comprehensive system of government, the\nbenefits of which we were willing to share generously with the people\nof all nations; and next, to the alacrity and sincerity with which\nthose people, acting on an impulse common to humanity, have accepted\nthe advantages thus presented.\n\nLooking back to the history of the migration of mankind from the\ncradle of the human race, we find that colonies, afterwards to become\nnations and the _nuclei_ of distinct families, thrown off from\nthe centre, presented each a unity of language and affinity of which\nthe originators of our country had not the advantage. Even Greece, the\ngraceful daughter of dusky Egypt, soon ceased to be Hellenic, and\nbecame, notwithstanding her many subdivisions, thoroughly Greek, and\nher colonies in Europe and Asia, when they ceased their connection\nwith the mother country, were quickly absorbed in the surrounding\npeoples. The Roman Empire had no nationality, being simply the\ncreature of force, and no matter how widely its boundaries were\nspread, all authority was lodged in Rome, and its subjects outside the\nwalls of that city were comparatively or positively slaves, without\nany voice in the management of their own affairs, or a nationality to\nwhich they could lay claim. As the legions were withdrawn to the\ncapital, the empire crumbled, and the disintegrated parts gradually\nresumed their original character. So with the splendid but short-lived\nempire of Charlemagne, The Goths, Vandals, Huns, and other European\nand Asiatic conquerors who from time to time overran different parts\nof Europe and founded dynasties, were simply waves of conquest\novercoming and enslaving the previous inhabitants, subjecting them to\nthe yoke of their own crude customs and laws, and building upon the\nruins of one nation the greatness of another.\n\nFar different was the origin of our republic. At the beginning, we had\non our shores voluntary immigrants from the then four great maritime\nnations of Europe--Spain, France, Holland, and England. The colonists\nof each, from fortuitous circumstances, or led by peculiar\npredilections, selected for settlement certain portions of the\ncontinent, established themselves therein, and, while adhering to\ntheir parent country and following its laws, speaking its\nlanguage, and practising its religion, early assumed a state of\nsemi-independence.\n\nThese representatives of distinct nationalities, though few in\nnumbers, grew prosperous each in its own territory, for the reason         92\nthat there was no idea of nationality, and consequently no unity of\naction, among the aborigines in their resistance to the new-comers.\nSupported by their home governments respectively, they grew from mere\nsettlements to be important colonies, at peace with each other as far\nas their own individual relation was concerned, but always liable to\nbe embroiled in the incessant quarrels of their countrymen at home.\nThe sturdy Hollanders were the first to succumb to what might be\ncalled foreign influence; then the French settlers, deserted by\nFrance, laid down their arms before their English conquerors, who, in\ntheir turn, by the Revolution of \u201876, yielded their dominion to the\nThirteen Colonies, which embraced within their limits much of the\nterritory and most of the descendants of the original colonists of at\nleast three of the nationalities which first effected settlements on\nthe Atlantic coast. From this period we may date the origin of\nAmerican nationality. In its infancy, it included nearly four millions\nof men of various races, creeds, opinions, and sentiments. For the\nfirst time in history was proclaimed the perfect equality before the\nlaw of all persons of European origin, as has since been extended that\ngrand principle of human equality to men from every part of the earth.\nIn forming a code for itself, it rejected what was contrary to this\ndogma, and adopted everything that was beneficial in all other forms\nof government. From Holland, it took the Declaration of Independence,\nthat great manifesto of popular rights; from England, the writ of\nhabeas corpus and trial by jury; from France and Spain, many of those\nequitable constructions of the civil law which regulate the rights of\nproperty and the domestic status of individuals. To all these were\nadded the beneficent constitution under which we have the good\nfortune to live, and the many excellent laws, local and national,\nwhich, in conformity with that instrument, have been enacted from time\nto time.\n\nBut custom is said to be stronger even than law, and hence we can\nunderstand that the vivifying principle of the government itself was\ngenerated from the peculiar circumstances amid which the first\nsettlers of America and their children found themselves, without local\nmonarchical traditions, an hereditary aristocracy, or laws of\nprimogeniture. With, as a general rule, little private fortune or\nmeans of subsistence other than that derived from manual labor and\nindividual enterprise, the American colonist, no matter of what\nnation, was naturally disposed towards popular government, and to\nproclaim and admit general equality. It is undoubtedly to the\nexistence of these robust social and economical habits in the early\nsettlers--which, finding expression in their new-found political\npower, were embodied in the fundamental laws of the new nation by the\nfathers of the republic--that we are primarily indebted for the wise\nand moderate scheme of government we enjoy, and which it is our duty\nto preserve and perpetuate unimpaired to posterity.\n\nIt was thus by a combination of circumstances hitherto unknown that\nour country became clothed with all the attributes of nationality\npeculiar to itself--its subsequent progress, as we may presume its\nfuture greatness, having no parallel in the annals of other lands.\nThat we are a nation, possessing an appropriate autonomy, capable of\nsustaining all the relations of war and peace with other countries,\nand exercising supreme authority over all our integral parts and\nindividual members, no sane man uninfluenced by the quibbles of mere       93\nlawyers or unswayed by the political passions of the day, will deny.\nWho would so deny, and maintain that this republic is a bundle of\npetty sovereignties in which the power of one is coequal to that of\nall the others combined, would reject the axiom of Euclid, that the\nwhole is greater than its part. The true American, then, is he who\nkeeps this principle of unity always in view. It gives dignity and\nstrength to his country abroad, and assures peace, concord, and\nsecurity at home. While allowing all possible latitude to subordinate\nmembers in the management of their domestic affairs, it reconciles and\nharmonizes the conflicting and sometimes antagonistic interests of\ndifferent sections, concentrates on works of vast commercial and\nnational importance the collective powers of all, directs the foreign\npolicy of the government for the general good, and arrays the power of\nthe people for the common protection and defence. True, some years\nago, many persons held contrary opinions, and in the attempt to carry\nthem out unhappily caused one of the most calamitous civil wars of\nmodern times; but, like the tempest which sweeps over the gigantic\noak, swaying its trunk and loosening the ground around it only that\nits roots may strike deeper and firmer into the earth, our country has\npassed through the storm unscathed and now rests on a basis firmer\nthan ever. The past and its errors, however, we can easily forget; the\nfuture is ours; and who shall hold us harmless if we profit not by our\ndearly-bought experience and the lessons which every day teaches us?\n\nOne, and not the least potent, of the causes which led to that\nfratricidal struggle was the advocacy of what was called \u201cmanifest\ndestiny,\u201d which is simply a delusive, dangerous, and, in its\napplication, very often a dishonest doctrine. It is not unnatural that\nin a young and sanguine republic, whose short history is so full of\nsuccesses, many ardent propagandists of freedom should be found, who\nwithout calculating consequences would like to extend the benefits of\nour political system not only to the utmost confines of this\ncontinent, but over all Christendom; but this feeling, though\ncreditable, is hardly one to be encouraged. It leads, as we have often\nseen, to a national lust for the acquisition of our neighbor\u2019s\nterritory, to the undue extension of our boundaries, disproportionate\nto even our ever-increasing population, and to the weakening of the\nbonds that hold together the comparatively settled states of the\nUnion, by the bodily introduction of foreign elements into our polity\nat variance with our real interests. The annexation of Texas and the\nacquisition of our Pacific territory, though productive of many\ntangible advantages, were undoubtedly some of the remote, but,\nnevertheless, very important, influences which, operating on the\npublic mind, tended to unfix our loyalty to the whole country, and to\ninduce us to view the recent forcible attempt on its integrity with\nfeelings somewhat akin to indifference. That enlargement of the\nnational domain was so sudden and immense that men\u2019s minds, accustomed\nto defined limits, failed to realize it. Patriotism is not a mere\nsentiment, but a love of something of which we have some accurate\nknowledge, whether associated with a particular race, locality, or\nhistorical record, or all together; and hence, when we could not\nunderstand how in one moment what we had thought was our country, the\nobject of our affection and source of our pride, was extended\nthousands of miles and millions of acres, our imaginations could not       94\nkeep pace with the monstrous growth of the country, and we fell back\non our native or adopted states, and felt prouder of being known as\nVirginians or Vermonters than of being United States citizens.\n\nIt is not at all improbable that posterity will see the whole of North\nAmerica united under one government, but this consummation, so\ndevoutly to be wished, to be permanent and salutary, must be the\nresult of time and the observance of the laws of right and justice,\nfor nations as well as individuals flourish or fade in proportion as\nthey follow or despise virtue. It must also be when our population is\nnot forty millions, as it now is, but quadruple that number, and when\nour sparsely settled territories are well filled with citizens, their\nresources in full process of development, and their varied interests\nassimilated with those of other portions of the country. Steam and\nelectricity may do much to bring about such results, foreign\nimmigration more, but a proper administration of our own laws, and a\njudicious, liberal, and conciliatory policy towards our American\nneighbors, most of all.\n\nHappily for us, we are at present on terms of friendship with all\nnations, and, remote from Europe and Asia, we are not likely to become\ninvolved in the complications and disputes of the Old World. Still, no\nhuman penetration can foresee how long such a desirable state of\naccord will exist. The monarchical states of Europe are not very\nsincere friends of republicanism, and, should war occur between us and\nthem, our greatest difficulty would be to defend our already too\nextensive frontiers from their attacks. Why, then, should we increase\nour danger by enlarging them? A good general never lengthens his lines\nunless he has proportionate reinforcements to maintain them.\n\nAs to becoming propagandists of republicanism in Europe, we think the\nattempt, in this century at least, would be both injudicious and\nuseless. The impious atrocities and dark designs of the secret\nsocieties there, who profane the word _liberty_ and blaspheme against\nall religion, have put so far back the cause of true freedom in the\nold countries that they who sincerely desire a more liberal system of\nlaws are glad to seek under the shadow of despotism protection and\nsecurity even at the sacrifice of their political liberties. If we\ntruly wish for the spread of free institutions, let us use example\nrather than precept, and prove, by the honest administration of our\nown concerns, respect for the doctrines of Christianity, and, by\nproper regard for the rules laid down by the church, that\nrepublicanism has ceased to be an experiment, and has become a\npractical and glorious reality. Such a result would be an argument so\ncogent that no sophistry could refute it and no force could combat its\nlogic. We must remember, also, that the greatest enemies of free\ngovernment are not, after all, kings and nobles, but those deluded men\nwho have banded themselves in every part of Europe, ostensibly as\nrepublicans, but secretly as the destroyers of all law and order.\nThese men, it is well known, mock the inspired word of God and deny\nhis very existence, contemn truth, ignore the first principles of\njustice, and scoff at the beautiful domestic virtues which bind the\nwife in affectionate duty to the husband, and the child in love and\ngratitude to the parent. Empires are governed mainly by force,\nrepublics through obedience, and yet those pretended apostles of\nfreedom acknowledge no law except their own and that of their passions.\nHuman laws, no matter by whom made, or how just they may be in letter      95\nand spirit, are mere pieces of paper or parchment if the people are\nnot disposed to obey them, and this disposition can only come through\nreligion. For, as man is constituted, he becomes amenable to the\noperation of the divine law of obedience before he comes under the\nedicts of human legislation; in other words, he is a Christian or the\nreverse before he is a lawyer or responsible to the temporal law. \u201cThe\ncharacteristics of a democracy,\u201d says Blackstone, \u201care public virtue\nand goodness as to its intentions;\u201d and Napoleon I., though by no\nmeans as good a Christian as he was a far-seeing statesman, when about\nto reduce chaotic France to order and decency, found it necessary\nfirst to restore religion and recall her exiled priesthood.\n\nUnfortunately for us, this spirit of irreligion is not confined to the\nother side of the Atlantic. We find it already making its way into\nAmerican society, though as yet it assumes more the character of\nindifferentism. We call ourselves a Christian people, yet less than\none-half of the entire community ever enter a church for devotional\npurposes from one year\u2019s end to another. Recently, too, we notice, in\nour larger cities particularly, exhibitions of the same wicked spirit\nwhich animated the Carbonari and Socialists of Europe, and which\nreveals itself in many expressions of sympathy for the infamous\nCommunists of Paris in the columns of some of our newspapers and the\nspeeches of more than one prominent politician. This insidious danger\nto our venerated institutions ought to be closely watched and sternly\nrepressed. It is opposed alike to private virtue and public morals,\nand, if ever allowed a controlling influence in the state, would\nsweep away every safeguard that stands between the citizen and the\npassions of the mob. No person who values the blessings of domestic\npeace or venerates the memories of our ancestors, no true American,\ncan tolerate for a moment these communistic and socialistic designs\nwhich are creeping in amongst us, utterly foreign as they are to our\nsoil and the genius of our people and government.\n\nWhile thus excluding vicious principles from our shores, we ought to,\nas we have ever done, continue to welcome the oppressed and\nimpoverished people of the Old World, and, as far as is consistent\nwith the public safety, to extend to them every facility to a\nparticipation in the political as well as the material prosperity of\nthe country. They are our relations. Very few of us, going back two or\nthree generations, but will find that his ancestors were also\nimmigrants, like those who to-day seek our protection and hospitality.\nSince the formation of our government, eight millions of them have\nmade their homes in the young republic, helping to develop our\nresources, commerce, and manufactures, and always proving faithful to\ntheir obligations of allegiance in peace as well as in war. An\nenlightened and tolerant treatment of our immigrants is both\ncharitable and wise; and the best evidence that we have profited by\nour superior political and educational advantages, is our readiness to\nmake allowance for the intellectual defects and antiquated habits of\nthose who have left home and country to join their lot with ours. The\nexclusion of any class of citizens from a participation in the\nbenefits of our government, on account of religion or previous\nnationality, never has had, and is never likely to have, the\ncountenance of the people of this country. The spasmodic efforts of\nthose fanatics, vulgarly but not inappropriately called Know-nothings,     96\nwhich have been made occasionally, were directed against Catholics,\nbut they never reached the dignity of national movements, and, being\nthe offspring of disappointed ambition and blind prejudice, withered\nbefore the scorn and contempt of all good men. Politically, there can\nbe little possible danger arising from the exercise of the elective\nfranchise by all citizens of foreign birth, even conceding their\ninferiority in some respects to the native-born, as the former number\nless than one-eighth of our entire population, and these, in the\nnatural course of events, will disappear from among us, their children\nborn here growing up thoroughly imbued with the spirit and liberality\nof our institutions. Even to-day the immediate descendants of adopted\ncitizens hold, under both the great parties that divide the country,\nmany high places of honor and trust, and perform their duties with an\nability and patriotism that reflect credit on the American name. The\nnationality that would deal harshly or jealously with friends or\nneighbors because they were born in a foreign land, or are poor in the\nworld\u2019s goods, is not American, and is more fitted for the latitude of\nLondon or Peking than of New York or Washington.\n\nWe are well aware that there are many things in the conduct of some of\nour adopted citizens that we find difficulty in understanding, and\nwhich require all our good-nature to overlook or palliate. A great\nfamine, we might say a succession of famines, the misgovernment of\nEngland, and the oppression of the worst class of alien landlords with\nwhich a people ever were afflicted, have driven among us, within a\nquarter of a century, over two millions of the inhabitants of Ireland.\nHaving been denied practically all participation in the government of\ntheir own country, they never have had an opportunity of acquiring\nthat steady habit of thought and reflection necessary to qualify them\nto judge of the relative merits or demerits of the manifold political\nmeasures which the exigencies of a free nation are, from time to time,\npresenting for popular endorsement; and having unlimited confidence in\nthose who profess to be their friends in their new homes, they fall an\neasy prey to the demagogue and the political charlatan. The victims of\nlong, cruel, and unrelenting tyranny, and ardent lovers of their\nfatherland, their hatred of England is, if possible, stronger than\ntheir love for Ireland. In fact, those two engrossing passions\nsometimes so absorb their minds that prudence, toleration, and even\nself-interest are forgotten. This circumstance, while it may be\ncreditable to themselves, cannot but be regretted by us for many\nreasons, but more particularly because it renders their assimilation\nwith the vast majority of our people more slow and difficult, and\noperates against their material advancement, and consequently against\nthe welfare of their children. In the abstract, we do not blame our\nIrish immigrants for this fond devotion to their natal country, nor\nfor their hatred of her oppressor; on the contrary, we admire it as\nlong as it works no injustice to them or to the country they have\nselected as their future home; but we do most emphatically deprecate\nthe conduct of those among them who, trading on such natural and\ngenerous feelings for selfish purposes, turn them aside from their\nduty as parents and citizens, and, assuming to be their leaders, have\nswayed them in the interest of this or that faction, wholly neglecting\nat the same time the performance of duties to the execution of which       97\nany one might be proud to devote his life.\n\nLet us illustrate what we mean. There are, at least, two and a half\nmillions of Irish in the United States, the great majority of whom,\nfor very sufficient, if not obvious, reasons occupy socially and\npecuniarily a very inferior position to that which their natural\nabilities would entitle them, yet we see how little effort is being\nmade by their countrymen, of more education or larger wealth, to\nassist them. The Catholic Church has done much, but the church,\nnecessarily, can only attend to their spiritual wants and to the\neducation of their children; the temperance and benevolent societies\nare good in their way, but their power is limited, and their sphere of\naction very restricted; but we look in vain for an organization that\nwill take by the hand the bewildered and uncertain stranger as he\nlands at Castle Garden or in the harbor of Boston, shield him from the\ntemptations and villany which mark him out as a victim from the moment\nhis foot touches the firm earth and his battle of life commences, find\nhim employment in the great centres of trade and commerce, or conduct\nhim safely to the broad spreading fields of the free and fruitful\nWest. If he be a farmer or agricultural laborer, as the majority of\nIrish immigrants are, what society of his countrymen is prepared to\ndefray his expenses to the rural districts, where labor is always in\ndemand, and wages high, or help him to locate on the Western lands,\nwhich can be had almost for the asking, and where he can bring up his\nfamily in comfort and happiness? If half the money and one-quarter the\ntime and labor which were recently so foolishly expended in futile\nefforts to free Ireland and invade the British dependencies had been\nused for the benefit of the poorer class of our Irish immigrants, how\nmany thousands of them might now be enjoying happy homes in our\nfertile Western states and territories, instead of infesting the\npurlieus of New York, underbidding each other for precarious and\nunhealthy employment. How many victims of disappointed hope or\nmistaken confidence might have been rescued from the slough of\ndespondency and degradation into which they have fallen, and placed in\na position of at least comparative independence. The liberation of\nIreland through the instrumentality of her exiled children is an old\nand a splendid dream, but it is only a dream so long as the present\nrelations exist between this country and England. We yield to no one\nin appreciation of all that is noble in that pious and gallant nation,\nand would, perhaps, sacrifice as much as the most enthusiastic of her\nsons to see her not only independent, but in the enjoyment of the\nfullest liberty; but no person who has ever casually studied the\nrelative strength and resources of England and Ireland, and who has\nhad any practical experience of the enormous expenditure of life and\nmoney so unsuccessfully incurred by the people of the South, even when\nmilitary training and available population were so evenly balanced,\ncan for a moment believe in the success of any attempt of the people\nthemselves to separate forcibly one from the other.\n\nBut whatever the people in Ireland may see fit to do or dare, the\norganization of armed men in this country to assist in that purpose is\nmost reprehensible and fraught with the greatest mischiefs. For any\nperson within our limits to attempt to levy war on a country at peace\nwith the United States is clearly illegal. If he be a stranger, it is\na criminal abuse of our hospitality; if a citizen, he disregards his       98\noath of allegiance. Such a movement gives color to the assertions of\nthe worst enemies of all foreigners, the Know-nothings, who accuse\nIrishmen of not becoming citizens in the true spirit of their oath,\nbut merely pretended ones, whose object is to use this country as\ntheir _point d\u2019appui_ for ulterior objects. Besides, such\nsocieties have a tendency to unsettle the minds of the people, and\ndivert them from the main objects of their self-expatriation--free\nhomes and altars. But even if Ireland were to-day independent, not\none-tenth of the Irish in America could or would return. The mass of\nthem are permanently attached to America by affection, association, or\ninterest; their children are growing up around them, naturally imbued\nwith a love for this, the country of their birth; their property and\nbusiness are here; some are too old to be retransplanted, and others\nyoung enough to prefer seeking fortunes in our stupendous and but yet\nonly partially developed commonwealth, to spending a lifetime in the\nnecessarily limited sphere of enterprise presented by so small a\ncountry as Ireland under the most favorable auspices. True patriotism\nshould, therefore, dictate to the Irish-American the wisdom of\npromoting the welfare of this large majority of his countrymen who,\nfor good or evil, must pass their lives with us. And what a vast and\nenticing field is thus presented to the successful merchant and ardent\nIrish nationalist! If they cannot free Ireland, they can by their\nmoney and their intelligence free tens of thousands of their\ncountrymen from the slavery of poverty and dependence, from the vices\nof the cities and the degradation of the factories and the coal-mines.\nSuch an effort, judiciously made, apart from the benefits it would\nconfer on so many poor and deserving citizens, and the unanswerable\nargument it would present of practical, disinterested sympathy, would,\nif the occasion should ever present itself, enable the persons so\nbenefited to assist in their turn the cause of true Irish nationality.\nThere is nothing so successful, it is said, as success, and while the\nsympathies of most nations, particularly of our own, are easily\nenlisted in favor of an oppressed nation like Ireland, there is\ngenerally observable an implied doubt that she is misgoverned because\nher people have not the capacity to properly govern themselves. At\nhome, they certainly have not been allowed to try the experiment, but\nhere, with free institutions already firmly established, vast mineral,\nagricultural, and commercial industries to invite their labor and\nexcite their ambition, and with an area of unoccupied land almost\nbeyond conception, a people incapable of profiting by these\nadvantages, either as individuals or by mutual co-operation, expose\nthemselves to the suspicion of being deficient in that organizing\nfaculty and mental grasp which create and sustain independent\ngovernments.\n\nWithout intending to draw an invidious distinction between one class\nof citizens and another, we may point to the German immigration to\nthis country as an admirable example of the benefits arising from\norganization and mutual support. It is this harmony of purpose that\nhas given to the Teutonic element, though by no means the strongest in\nour population, a preponderating influence in several of the Western\nstates, and the proprietorship of innumerable farms on both sides of\nthe Mississippi River. Coming from a self-governing country, and\nleaving behind an extensive trading and manufacturing connection,\nthe German immigrant has of course many advantages over his Irish          99\nfellow-voyager, but those who have closely watched the progress of\nboth races in America assert that it is to the admirable system of\nmutual help and protection enjoyed by the former that his great\nindustrial progress is mainly due.\n\nWe are satisfied that there are many wealthy citizens of Irish birth\nin this city and elsewhere who would gladly contribute of their\nsuper-abundant means to assist their less fortunate fellow-countrymen,\nwere any feasible project inaugurated by which they could do so\npractically and efficiently, and we trust that there are among us\nadopted citizens themselves--persons who, abandoning chimerical\nschemes of conquest and invasion, would devote their time and ability\nto assist those of their helpless countrymen who have come and are\ncoming among us. Every intelligent agriculturist that can be planted\non the virgin soil of our now waste public lands, every ingenious\nmechanic that is furnished with employment in our workshops, and, we\nmay say, every stalwart laborer that is removed from the overstocked\nlabor market of the East and assisted to the towns and smaller cities\nof the South and West, adds to the general wealth of the community,\nincreases the strength and glory of our republic, and conduces to its\ngrowing intelligence and morality.\n\nThe pursuit of wealth, however important, is not of course the primary\nduty of man, considered either as an individual responsible being or\nas a citizen. Religion, in its proper practical sense, is not only the\nsource of happiness for mankind in this world and the next, but is\nabsolutely necessary for the preservation of all well-regulated\nsociety, and it is on this account among others that so many admirers\nof American institutions have seen with regret that a large portion of\nour immigrants from the continental countries of Europe evince a\ncomplete disregard for the plainest forms of Christianity. Now, the\nfounders of this government were essentially a religious people. The\nCatholics of Maryland and the Puritans of New England; the Virginia\nEpiscopalians and the Pennsylvania Quakers, feared God and revered his\nlaws, as far at least as they understood them; and the excellent\ninstitutions which those men of diverse opinions, but honest\nintentions, originated and transmitted to us, are but the reflex of\nthat reverential and devotional spirit. We admire the thrift and\nenterprise of our German fellow-citizens, we admit their general good\norder, taste, and proficiency in art, particularly the beautiful one\nof music, and we know how many fine churches and hospitals they have\nbuilt and are sustaining, but it cannot be denied that there is a\ngreat deal of indifferentism, and even worse, among the anti-Catholic\nportion of them, the outward evidence of which may be found in the\ncomplete disregard that is so generally manifested for the holiness of\nthe Sunday. We are not of those who would deny to the hard-working and\nhard-faring classes their proper share of innocent and healthful\namusement on the only day in the week that they can escape from labor,\nbut this recreation should be preceded by some act of devotion, some\nsolemn and open recognition of our dependence on the great Giver of\nlife and happiness. Still, whoever visits our saloons and pleasure\ngardens on a Sunday will find them thronged with persons of all ages\nand both sexes from early morning till midnight, while churches that\nwould gladly receive them are comparatively deserted. Luther\u2019s revolt\nagainst the church has much of this to answer for, but Kant, Fichte,      100\nand other so-called philosophers of more modern times have much more;\nfor while the \u201cReformers\u201d only unsettled the religious mind of\nGermany, and partially succeeded in alienating it from the Catholic\nChurch, the schoolmen succeeded in making atheism fashionable among\nthe intelligent classes by covering it with a thin veil of learned\nmysticism. This want of proper deference for the day set apart by the\nchurch, and by all Christian sects, for special reverence, and the\nobservance of which is even enjoined by our common and statute law,\nis, we maintain, not only un-American, but is likely to produce a\ngeneral contempt for all law, and lead to a weakening of the sense of\nthat obedience which every individual citizen owes to the public\nauthority.\n\nIn thus alluding to the characteristics of some of our adopted\ncitizens, we have touched only on those of the two most numerous\nrepresentatives of European nationalities, not because there are not\nothers whose deficiencies, from an American point of view, are not as\napparent, but from the fact that we consider, from their numerical\nstrength and intrinsic qualities, they are destined to exercise a\nmarked and extensive influence on the future character of the country.\nIn feeling or temperament, they are not opposed to us nor to each\nother. The vivacity and even excitability of one race find their\ncomplement in the solidity and matter-of-fact disposition of the\nother--a union of qualities which, governed and properly managed by\nthe practical genius of Americans, will in all human probability lead\nto results in the distant future of the magnitude of which we scarcely\ndare to dream. No people ever possessed the advantages that we, native\nand adopted, enjoy. Let us avail ourselves of them in such manner that\nposterity may look back to us, as we to the Revolutionary fathers,\nwith unmingled feelings of gratitude and admiration.\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n                        OUR LADY OF LOURDES.\n\n                 FROM THE FRENCH OF HENRI LASSERRE.\n\n                           (_Concluded._)\n\n\n                              PART X.\n\n\n                                II.\n\nAnother episode.\n\nThere are, in civil life, men whose appearance is precisely that of a\nsoldier. Though they have never seen service, every one who meets them\nand does not know them takes them without hesitation for veterans.\nThey have the rather stiff carriage, firm step, disciplined\nappearance, and concealed good-fellowship belonging to the profession.\nThey are specially common in the mixed services, such as the customs,\nthe waters and forests, which, though purely civil in their nature,\nborrow their degrees of rank and their methods from the system adopted    101\nfor the army. On the one hand, these men have, like private citizens,\na family and a domestic life; on the other, they are bound in a\nthousand ways by the manifold requirements of an entirely military\nrule. To this is due the peculiar appearance of which I speak, and\nwith which every one is familiar.\n\nIf, then, you have ever seen a brave cavalry officer in citizen\u2019s\ndress, with his short hair and his bristly moustache beginning to turn\ngray; if you have noticed in his energetic features those straight and\nvertical lines which are hardly as yet wrinkles, and which seem\npeculiar to these military faces; if you have gazed upon that\nforehead, rebellious to the hat, and which seems made expressly for\nthe kepi or tricorne, upon those firm eyes which by day are accustomed\nto brave danger, but by night become gentle at the fireside as they\nrest upon the children\u2019s heads; if you remember this characteristic\ntype, I have no need to introduce you to M. Roger Lacassagne, officer\nin the custom-house at Bordeaux--you know him as well as I.\n\nWhen, about two years ago, I had the honor of visiting him at his\nhouse, Rue du Chai des Farines, No. 6, at Bordeaux, I was struck at\nfirst by his severe appearance and his air of reserve.\n\nHe asked me, with the somewhat brusque politeness habitual to men of\ndiscipline, what was the object of my visit.\n\n\u201cMonsieur,\u201d said I, \u201cI have heard the story of your journey to the\nGrotto of Lourdes, and for the profit of some inquiries I am just now\nmaking, I have come to have it from your own mouth.\u201d\n\nAt the words \u201cthe Grotto of Lourdes,\u201d this stern countenance became\ntender, and a dear remembrance softened its rigid lines.\n\n\u201cBe seated,\u201d said he, \u201cand excuse the disorder of our establishment.\nMy family leaves to-day for Arcachou, and everything is topsy-turvy.\u201d\n\n\u201cDo not mention it. Tell me all about these interesting events of\nwhich I have already heard, but only confusedly.\u201d\n\n\u201cFor my part,\u201d said he in a voice choked by emotion, \u201cI shall never in\nmy life forget their smallest details.\n\n\u201cMonsieur,\u201d he continued after a moment of silence, \u201cI have only two\nsons. The youngest, about whom I am going to tell you, is called\nJules. He will come in before long. You will see how sweet, pure, and\ngood he is.\u201d\n\nM. Lacassagne did not tell me all his affection for this youngest son.\nBut the accent of his voice, which became gentle and as it were\ncaressing in speaking of this child, showed me all the depth of his\npaternal love. I understood that in that strong and tender feeling was\nconcentrated all the force of this manly soul.\n\n\u201cHis health,\u201d continued he, \u201cwas excellent until the age of ten.\n\n\u201cAt that period there came on unexpectedly, and without apparent\nphysical cause, a disease the importance of which I did not at first\nappreciate. On the 25th of January, 1865, when we were sitting down to\nsupper, Jules complained of a trouble in his throat which prevented\nhim from swallowing any solid food. He had to limit himself to a\nlittle soup.\n\n\u201cThis state of things continuing next day, I called in Dr. Nogu\u00e8s, one\nof the most distinguished physicians of Toulouse.\n\n\u201c\u2018The difficulty comes from the nerves,\u2019 said he--which gave me hopes\nof a speedy cure.\n\n\u201cIn fact, a few days afterwards, the boy was able to eat, and I\nthought all was over, when the trouble returned, and continued with       102\noccasional intermissions till the end of April. It then became fixed.\nThe poor child had to live entirely on liquids; on milk, the juice of\nmeat, and broth. Even the broth had to be very clear, for such was the\nnarrowness of the orifice that it was absolutely impossible for him to\nswallow anything solid, even tapioca.\n\n\u201cThe poor boy, reduced to such miserable diet, was becoming visibly\nemaciated, and was dying slowly.\n\n\u201cThe physicians, for there were two--as I had from the outset\nrequested a celebrated practitioner, Dr. Roques, to consult with Dr.\nNogu\u00e8s--the physicians, I say, astonished by the peculiarity and the\npersistence of this difficulty, tried vainly to discover its precise\nnature, that they might apply a remedy. One day, it was the tenth of\nMay--for I suffered so much, sir, and thought so much about this\nillness that I remembered every date--one day, I saw Jules in the\ngarden running with unusual haste, and as it were precipitately. Now I\ndreaded the least agitation for him.\n\n\u201c\u2018Stop, Jules!\u2019 cried I, going to him and taking his hand.\n\n\u201cHe broke away immediately.\n\n\u201c\u2018Father, I cannot,\u2019 said he. \u2018I must run. It is stronger than I.\u2019\n\n\u201cI took him in my lap, but his legs moved convulsively. Soon after the\nmovement passed to his head and face.\n\n\u201cThe true character of his disease had at last declared itself. My\npoor child was attacked by chorea. You are no doubt aware, sir, by\nwhat horrible contortions this disease is usually marked.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d said I, interrupting him, \u201cI do not even know what it is.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is what is often called _St. Vitus\u2019s dance_.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, I have heard of that. Go on.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe principal seat of the disease was in the \u0153sophagus. The\nconvulsions which I had just witnessed, and which were continued at\nall hours from that time, put an end to the perplexities of the\nphysicians.\n\n\u201cBut though they now understood the difficulty, they could not\novercome it. After fifteen months of treatment, the most they could do\nwas control these violent external symptoms; or really, in my own\nopinion, these disappeared of themselves by the efforts of nature\nalone. But as to the contraction of the throat, it had become chronic\nand resisted all appliances. Remedies of every kind, the country, the\nbaths of Luchon, were successively and uselessly employed for about\ntwo years. All the treatment seemed only to increase the disease.\n\n\u201cOur last trial had been one season at the sea-side. My wife had taken\nour poor child to St. Jean-de-Luz. I need hardly say that in the state\nin which he was, the care of his body was everything. Our only object\nwas to keep him alive. We had from the first suspended his studies and\nstopped all labor on his part, whether of body or mind; we treated him\nlike a plant. Now, his mind was naturally active and inquiring, and\nthis privation of intellectual occupation gave him much _ennui_.\nThe poor boy was also ashamed of his trouble; he saw other children in\ngood health, and he felt himself as it were disgraced and under a ban;\nso he kept apart.\u201d\n\nThe father, deeply moved by these memories, stopped a moment to check\na rising sob, and continued:\n\n\u201cHe kept apart. He was sad. When he found some interesting book, he\nwould read it to distract his mind. At St. Jean-de-Luz, he saw one day\non the table of a lady who lived in the neighborhood a little notice\nof the apparition at Lourdes. He read it, and seems to have been very     103\nmuch impressed by it. He said that evening to his mother that the\nBlessed Virgin could very easily cure him; but she paid no attention\nto his proposal, considering it as only a childish whim.\n\n\u201cOn our return to Bordeaux--for a little while before this my station\nhad been changed, and we had come to live here--on our return to\nBordeaux the child was absolutely in the same condition.\n\n\u201cThat was last August.\n\n\u201cSo many vain efforts, so much science employed without success by the\nbest physicians, so much lost trouble, had by this time, as you will\neasily imagine, discouraged us most completely. Disheartened by the\nfailure of all our endeavors, we gave up all kinds of remedies,\nletting nature act alone, and resigning ourselves to the inevitable\nevil which God was pleased to send us. It seemed to us that so much\nsuffering had in a certain way redoubled our love for this child. Our\npoor Jules was tended by his mother and myself with equal tenderness\nand solicitude continually. Grief added many years to our lives. You\nwould hardly believe it, sir, but I am only forty-six years old.\u201d\n\nI looked at the poor father; and at the sight of his manly face, upon\nwhich grief had left such visible traces, my heart was moved. I took\nhis hand and pressed it with cordial sympathy and real compassion.\n\n\u201cMeanwhile,\u201d said he, \u201cthe strength of the child decreased\nperceptibly. For two years he had taken no solid food. It was only at\ngreat expense, by means of a liquid nourishment in preparing which all\nour ingenuity had been taxed that it might be substantial, and by most\nextraordinary care, that we had been able to prolong his life. He had\nbecome frightfully thin. His pallor was extreme; he had no blood\nshowing under his skin; you would have said he was a statue of wax. It\nwas evident that death was coming on apace. It was not only certain,\nbut imminent. And, though the uselessness of medical science in the\ncase had certainly been clearly shown, I could not help knocking once\nagain at its door. I knew of no other in this world.\n\n\u201cI applied to the most eminent physician in Bordeaux, Dr. Gintrac. Dr.\nGintrac examined his throat, sounded it, and found, besides the mere\ncontraction which had almost entirely closed the alimentary canal,\nsome most threatening roughnesses or small swellings.\n\n\u201cHe shook his head, and gave me little hope. He saw my terrible\nanxiety.\n\n\u201c\u2018I do not say that his cure is impossible,\u2019 said he; \u2018_but he is\nvery ill_.\u2019\n\n\u201cThese were his exact words.\n\n\u201cHe considered it absolutely necessary to employ local remedies; first\ninjections, then the application of a cloth soaked in ether. But this\ntreatment prostrated the child; in view of the result, the surgeon\nhimself, M. Sentex, employed in the hospital, advised us to\ndiscontinue it.\n\n\u201cIn one of my visits to Dr. Gintrac, I communicated to him an idea\nwhich had occurred to me.\n\n\u201c\u2018It seems to me,\u2019 said I, \u2018that if Jules _had the will_, he\ncould swallow. Does not this difficulty perhaps come from fear? Is it\nnot perhaps that he does not swallow to-day merely because he did not\nyesterday? If so, it is a mental malady, which can only be cured by\nmoral means.\u2019\n\n\u201cBut the doctor dispelled this my last illusion.\n\n\u201c\u2018You are mistaken,\u2019 said he. \u2018The disease is in the organs\nthemselves, which are only too really and seriously affected. I have      104\nnot contented myself with looking at them, for the eye may easily be\ndeceived; but I have sounded them with an instrument, and felt of them\ncarefully with my fingers. The \u0153sophagus is covered with little\nswellings, and the passage has become so small that it is\n_materially impossible_ for the boy to take any food whatever,\nexcept liquids, which can accommodate themselves to the size of the\nopening, and pass through the pin-hole, as I may call it, which still\nremains. If the enlargement of the tissues proceeds a few millimetres\nfurther, the patient cannot live. The beginning of the trouble, the\nalternations which characterized it, and its occasional interruptions\nalso bear out the result of my examination. Your child, having once\nrecovered, would have continued well if the difficulty had been in his\nimagination. Unfortunately, it is organic.\u2019\n\n\u201cThese remarks, which had been already made to me at Toulouse, but\nwhich I had gladly forgotten, were too conclusive not to convince me.\nI returned home, with death in my soul.\n\n\u201cWhat could now be done? We had applied to the most distinguished\nphysicians both of Toulouse and Bordeaux, and all had been unavailing.\nThe fatal evidence was before my eyes; our poor child was condemned,\nand that without appeal.\n\n\u201cBut, monsieur, such cruel conclusions cannot easily remain in a\nfather\u2019s heart. I still tried to deceive myself; my wife and I\ncontinued to consult; I was thinking of hydropathy.\n\n\u201cIt was in this desperate state of things that Jules said to his\nmother, with an air of confidence and absolute certitude which\nstrongly impressed her:\n\n\u201c\u2018Mamma, neither Dr. Gintrac nor any other\ndoctor can do anything for my trouble. It is the Holy Virgin who will\ncure me. Send me to the Grotto of Lourdes, and you will see that I\nshall be cured. I am sure of it.\u2019\n\n\u201cMy wife reported this proposal to me.\n\n\u201c\u2018We must not hesitate!\u2019 cried I. \u2018He must go to Lourdes. And that as\nsoon as possible.\u2019\n\n\u201cIt was not, sir, that I was full of faith. I did not believe in\nmiracles, and I hardly considered such extraordinary interventions of\ndivine power as possible. But I was a father, and any chance, no\nmatter how insignificant, seemed to me not to be slighted. Besides, I\nhoped that, without any supernatural occurrence, the possibility of\nwhich I did not wish to admit, this journey might have a salutary\nmoral effect on the child. As for a complete cure, I did not entertain\nthe slightest idea of such a thing.\n\n\u201cIt was in winter, at the beginning of February; the weather was bad,\nand I wished to wait for a fine day, on Jules\u2019s account.\n\n\u201cSince he had read the little notice, eight months before, at St.\nJean-de-Luz, the idea which he had just expressed to us had never left\nhim. Having expressed it once without any attention being paid to it,\nhe had not introduced the subject again; but the thought had remained\nin him, and worked there while he was undergoing all the medical\ntreatment with a patience that had to be seen to be appreciated.\n\n\u201cThis faith, so full and complete, was the more extraordinary because\nwe had not brought up the child to any unusual practices of piety. My\nwife attended to her religious duties, but that was all; and, as for\nmyself, I had, as you have just heard, philosophic ideas tending          105\nquite the other way.\n\n\u201cOn the 12th of February, the weather promised to be magnificent. We\ntook the train for Tarbes.\n\n\u201cDuring the whole journey, Jules was gay, and full of the most\npositive faith that he would be cured; his faith was overpowering.\n\n\u201cAs for myself, I encouraged, but did not share, this confidence; it\nwas so great that I should call it exaggerated, did I not fear to be\nwanting in respect for the God who inspired it.\n\n\u201cAt Tarbes, at the H\u00f4tel Dupont, where we put up, every one noticed\nthe poor child, so pale and wasted, and yet with such a sweet and\nattractive expression. I mentioned at the hotel the object of our\njourney, and in the good wishes and prayers which these good people\nmade for us there seemed to be a presentiment of success. And when we\nset out, I saw plainly that they would await our return with\nimpatience.\n\n\u201cNotwithstanding my doubts, I took with me a small box of biscuits.\n\n\u201cWhen we arrived at the crypt above the Grotto, Mass was being said.\nJules prayed with a faith which shone out in all his features, with a\ntruly celestial ardor.\n\n\u201cThe priest noticed his fervor, and when he had left the altar, he\ncame out of the sacristy almost immediately, and approached us. A good\nidea had occurred to him on seeing the poor little one. He proposed it\nto me, and, turning to Jules, who was still on his knees, said:\n\n\u201c\u2018My child, would you like to have me consecrate you to the Blessed\nVirgin?\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018Indeed I would,\u2019 answered he.\n\n\u201cThe priest immediately proceeded with the very simple ceremony, and\nrecited over my child the sacred formulas.\n\n\u201c\u2018Now,\u2019 said Jules, in a tone which impressed me by its perfect\nconfidence, \u2018I am going to be cured.\u2019\n\n\u201cWe went to the Grotto. Jules knelt before the statue and prayed. I\nlooked at him, and can still see the expression of his face, his\nattitude, and his joined hands.\n\n\u201cHe rose, and we went to the fountain.\n\n\u201cIt was a terrible moment.\n\n\u201cHe bathed his neck and chest. Then he took the glass and drank\nseveral mouthfuls of the miraculous water.\n\n\u201cHe was calm and happy, gay in fact, and radiant with confidence.\n\n\u201cFor my part, I trembled and almost fainted at this last trial. But I\nrestrained my emotion, though with difficulty. I did not want to let\nhim see my doubt.\n\n\u201c\u2018Try now to eat,\u2019 said I, handing him a biscuit.\n\n\u201cHe took it, and I turned away my head, not feeling able to look at\nhim. It was, in fact, the question of the life or death of my child\nwhich was to be decided. In putting this question, such a fearful one\nfor a father\u2019s heart, I was playing, as it were, my last card. If I\nfailed, my dear boy would have to die. This test was a decisive one,\nand I could not see it tried.\n\n\u201cBut I was soon relieved of my agony.\n\n\u201cJules\u2019s voice, joyous and sweet, called me:\n\n\u201c\u2018Papa! I have swallowed it. I can eat, I knew I could--I had faith!\u2019\n\n\u201cWhat a surprise it was! My child, who had been at death\u2019s door, was\nsaved, and that instantly. And I, his father, was a witness to this\nastonishing resurrection.\n\n\u201cBut, that I might not disturb the faith of my son, I checked any\nappearance of astonishment.\n\n\u201c\u2018Yes, Jules, it was certain, and could not have been otherwise,\u2019 said    106\nI, in a voice which I made calm by great effort.\n\n\u201cThere was in my breast, however, a whirlwind of excitement. If it\ncould have been opened, it would have been found burning as if full of\nfire.\n\n\u201cWe repeated our experiment. He ate some more biscuits, not only\nwithout difficulty, but with an increasing appetite. I was obliged to\nrestrain him.\n\n\u201cBut I could not refrain from proclaiming my happiness, and thanking\nGod.\n\n\u201c\u2018Wait for me,\u2019 said I to Jules, \u2018and pray to the Blessed Virgin. I am\ngoing to the chapel.\u2019\n\n\u201cAnd leaving him for a moment kneeling at the Grotto, I ran to tell\nthe priest the wonderful news. I was quite bewildered. Besides my\nhappiness, so unexpected and sudden that it was terrible, besides the\nconfusion of my heart, I felt in my soul and mind an inexpressible\ndisturbance. A revolution was going on in my agitated and tumultuous\nthoughts. All my \u2018philosophical\u2019 ideas were tottering and crumbling\naway.\n\n\u201cThe priest came down immediately and saw Jules finishing his last\nbiscuit. The Bishop of Tarbes happened to be that day at the chapel,\nand he wished to see my son. I told him of the cruel illness which had\njust had such a happy end. Every one caressed the child, and rejoiced\nwith him.\n\n\u201cBut I meanwhile was thinking of his mother, and of the joy in store\nfor her. Before going to the hotel, I ran to the telegraph office. My\ndespatch contained only one word: \u2018Cured!\u2019\n\n\u201cHardly had it gone before I wanted to recall it.\n\n\u201c\u2018Perhaps,\u2019 said I, \u2018I have been too hasty. Who knows if he will not\nhave a relapse?\u2019\n\n\u201cI did not dare to believe in the blessing I had received; and when I\ndid believe in it, it seemed that it was going to escape from me.\n\n\u201cAs for the child, he was happy without the least mixture of\ndisquietude. He was exuberant in his joy and perfect security.\n\n\u201c\u2018You see now, papa,\u2019 said he to me every moment, \u2018it was only the\nBlessed Virgin who could cure me. When I told you so before, I was\nsure of it.\u2019\n\n\u201cAt the hotel, he ate with an excellent appetite; and how I enjoyed\nwatching him!\n\n\u201cHe wanted to return on foot to the Grotto to give thanks for his\ndeliverance, and actually did so.\n\n\u201c\u2018You will be very grateful to the Holy Virgin, will you not?\u2019 said a\npriest to him.\n\n\u201c\u2018Ah! I shall never forget,\u2019 said he.\n\n\u201cAt Tarbes, we stopped at the hotel where we had put up the day\nbefore. They were on the lookout for us. They seem to have had (as I\nthink I told you) a feeling that we would be successful. There was a\ngreat rejoicing. People gathered around us to see him eat with a\nrelish everything that was served upon the table; to see him eat\nheartily who the day before could only swallow a few spoonfuls of\nliquid. That time seemed to me long gone by.\n\n\u201cThis illness, against which the science of the most able physicians\nhad failed, and which had just been so miraculously cured, had lasted\ntwo years and nineteen days.\n\n\u201cWe were in haste to return to his mother, and took the express train\nfor Bordeaux. The child was overcome with fatigue by the journey, and\nI should also say by his emotions, were it not for his peaceable and      107\nconstant calmness in spite of his sudden cure, which overwhelmed him\nwith joy, but did not astonish him. He wanted to go to bed on reaching\nhome. He was extremely sleepy, and took no supper. His mother, who had\nnearly died of joy before our return, when she saw him so exhausted\nand refusing to eat, was seized by a horrible doubt. She told me that\nI had deceived her, and I had the greatest difficulty in making myself\nbelieved. But how she rejoiced when, the next morning, Jules sat down\nat our table, and breakfasted with a better appetite than ourselves.\nIt was not till then that she became reassured.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd since then,\u201d I asked him, \u201chas there been no relapse?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, sir, absolutely none. I may say that the cure progressed, or\nrather consolidated itself, considering that it had been as complete\nas it was instantaneous. The transition from a disease so fixed and\nobstinate to a perfect cure was made without the least gradation,\nthough it was without apparent disturbance. But his general health\nimproved visibly, under the influence of a restorative regimen, the\nsalutary effects of which it was full time for him to experience.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd the physicians? Have they testified to Jules\u2019s previous\ncondition? Certainly they should have done so.\u201d\n\n\u201cI thought so too, sir, and mentioned the subject to the Bordeaux\ndoctor who had been the last to attend my child; but he maintained a\nreserve which prevented me from insisting. As for Dr. Roques of\nToulouse, to whom I wrote immediately, he hastened to recognize in the\nclearest terms the miraculous nature of the fact which had occurred,\nand which was entirely beyond the powers of medicine. \u2018In view of\nthis cure, so long desired and so promptly effected,\u2019 he said to me,\n\u2018why not quit the narrow sphere of scientific explanations, and open\none\u2019s mind to gratitude for so strange an event, in which Providence\nseems to obey the voice of a child?\u2019 He rejected most decidedly, as a\nphysician, the theories which are always produced on such occasions of\n\u2018moral excitement,\u2019 \u2018the effect of the imagination,\u2019 etc., and\nconfessed frankly in this event the clear and positive action of a\nsuperior Being revealing himself and imposing himself on the\nconscience. Such, sir, was the opinion of M. Roques, physician of\nToulouse, who knew as well as myself the previous condition and the\nillness of my son. There is his own letter, dated February 24.\n\n\u201cBut the facts which I have just related are also so well known that\nno one would care to contest them. It is superabundantly proved that\nscience was absolutely powerless against the strange disease by which\nJules had been attacked. As for the cause of his cure, every one can\nplace it differently, according to the point of view which he chooses\nto assume. I, who had previously believed only in purely natural\nphenomena, saw clearly that its explanation must be sought in a higher\norder of things; and every day I gave thanks to God, who, putting an\nend to my long and cruel trial in such an unexpected way, had\napproached me in the way most adapted to make me bow before him.\u201d\n\n\u201cI understand you, and it seems also to me that such was the divine\nplan.\u201d\n\nAfter these words, I remained some time silent and absorbed in my\nreflections.\n\nThe conversation returned to the boy so wonderfully cured. The father\u2019s\nheart came back to him, as the needle does to the pole.                   108\n\n\u201cSince that time,\u201d said he, \u201chis piety is angelic. You will see him\nsoon. The nobleness of his feelings is visible in his face. He is\nwell-born, his character is honest and dignified. He is incapable of\nlies or meanness. And his piety has not been at the expense of his\nnatural qualities. He is studying in a school close by, kept by M.\nConangle, in the Rue du Mirail. The poor child has quickly made up for\nhis lost time. He loves his studies. He is the first in his class. At\nthe last examination, he took the highest prize. But, above all, he is\nthe best and most amiable. He is the favorite of his teachers and\nschoolmates. He is our joy, our consolation, and--\u201d\n\nAt this moment the door opened, and Jules came with his mother into\nthe room where we were sitting. I embraced him affectionately. The\nglow of health was on his face. His forehead is large, high, and\nmagnificent; his attitude has a modesty and gentle firmness which\ninspires a secret respect. His eyes, large and bright, show a rare\nintelligence, and absolute purity and a beautiful soul.\n\n\u201cYou are happy to have such a son,\u201d said I to M. Lacassagne.\n\n\u201cYes, sir, I am happy. But my poor wife and I have suffered a great\ndeal.\u201d\n\n\u201cDo not be sorry for that,\u201d said I, going a little away from Jules.\n\u201cThis path of grief was the way which led you from darkness to light,\nfrom death to life, from yourself to God. The Blessed Virgin has shown\nherself twice in this event as the mother of life. She has given your\nson his temporal life in order to give you the true life which knows\nno end.\u201d\n\nI left this family, so greatly blessed by our Lord, and, still under\nthe impression of what I had heard and seen, I wrote, with my heart\nfull of the feelings produced, what you have just read.\n\n\n\n\n                              PART XI.\n\n\n                                 I.\n\nLet us return to Lourdes. Time had passed, and human industry had been\nat work. The surroundings of the Grotto, where the Blessed Virgin had\nappeared, had changed their former aspect. Without losing anything of\nits grandeur, this savage spot had put on a pleasing aspect. Yet\nunfinished, but fairly alive with workmen, a superb church, proudly\ncrowning the Massabielle rocks, was rising joyously to heaven. The\nlofty heights, so abrupt and uncultivated, where formerly the feet of\nthe mountaineers could scarcely descend, were covered with a\ngreensward and planted with shrubs and flowers. Among dahlias and\nroses, daisies and violets, beneath the shade of acacias and\ncytisuses, a path, broad as the highway, wound in sinuous curves from\nthe church to the Grotto.\n\nThe Grotto was enclosed like a chancel by an iron railing. From the\nroof a golden lamp had been suspended. On the rocks, which had been\npressed by Mary\u2019s sacred feet, clusters of tapers burned day and\nnight. Outside the enclosure the miraculous spring fed three bronze\nlavers. A canal, screened from sight by a little building, afforded a\nchance for those invalids who wished to be bathed in this blessed\nwater. The mill-race of Savy had changed its bed, having been led into\nthe Gave, further up. The Gave itself had withdrawn somewhat, to give\nroom for a fine road which leads to the Massabielle Rocks. Below, on\nthe banks of the river, the ground had been levelled, and formed\nan extensive lawn and walk, shaded by elms and poplars.                   109\n\nAll these changes had been accomplished and were still going on amid\nthe incessant concourse of the faithful. The copper coin, thrown by\npopular faith into the grotto--the _ex-votos_ of so many invalids\nwho had been cured, of so many hearts who had been consoled, of so\nmany souls reawakened to truth and life, alone defrayed the cost of\nthese gigantic labors, which approaches the sum of two million francs.\nWhen God, in his bounty, vouchsafes to call men to co-operate in any\nof his works, he does not employ soldiers, or tax-gatherers, or\nconstables to collect the impost--he accepts from his creatures only a\nvoluntary assistance. The Master of the universe repudiates\nconstraint, for he is the God of free souls; he does not consent to\nreceive anything which is not spontaneous and offered with a cheerful\nheart.\n\nThus the church was gradually rising, thus the river and the\nmillstream gave way, hillsides were levelled, trees were planted, and\npathways traced around the now famous rocks where the Mother of Christ\nhad manifested her glory to the eyes of mortals.\n\n\n                                II.\n\nEncouraging the laborers, superintending everything, suggesting ideas,\nsometimes putting his own hands to the work to set a misplaced stone\nor straighten a badly-planted tree, recalling, by his ardor and holy\nenthusiasm, the grand figures of Esdras and Nehemiah, occupied, by\nGod\u2019s order, with the rebuilding of the walls of Jerusalem, a tall\nman, of marked features, seemed to make himself everywhere present.\nHis powerful stature and black cassock rendered him conspicuous to\nall eyes. His name will be speedily guessed. It was the chief pastor\nof the town of Lourdes, the Abb\u00e9 Peyramale.\n\nEvery hour of the day he thought of the message which the Blessed\nVirgin had addressed to him; every hour he thought of the miraculous\ncures which had followed the apparition; he was a daily witness of\ncountless miracles. He had devoted his life to execute the orders of\nhis powerful Queen, and raise to her glory a splendid monument. All\nidleness, all delay, every moment wasted, seemed to his eyes a token\nof ingratitude, and his heart, devoured by zeal for the house of God,\noften broke forth in warnings and admonitions. His faith was perfect,\nand full of confidence. He had a horror of the wretched narrowness of\nhuman prudence, and scouted it with the disdain of one who looks upon\nall things from that holy mount whereon the Son of God preached the\nnothingness of earth and the reality of heaven, when he said: \u201cBe not\nsolicitous ... seek first the kingdom of heaven, and all these things\nshall be added unto you.\u201d\n\nOne day, while standing before the miraculous fountain amid a group of\necclesiastics and laymen, the architect offered him a plan for a\npretty chapel which he proposed to build above the Grotto. The cur\u00e9\nlooked at it, and a flush rose to his cheek. With a gesture of\nimpatience he tore the drawing into bits, and tossed it into the Gave.\n\n\u201cWhat are you doing?\u201d cried the astonished architect.\n\n\u201cLook you,\u201d answered the priest, \u201cI am ashamed of what human meanness\nwould offer to the Mother of my God, and I have treated the wretched\nplan as it deserved. We do not want a country chapel to commemorate       110\nthe great events which have taken place here. Go, give us a temple of\nmarble as large and as high as these rocks can sustain--as magnificent\nas your soul can conceive! Go, and do not check your genius till you\nhave given us a _chef-d\u2019\u0153uvre_; and understand that, if you were\nMichael Angelo himself, it would all be unworthy of her who has\nappeared in this spot.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut, _monsieur le cur\u00e9_,\u201d observed everybody, \u201cit will cost\nmillions to carry out your ideas!\u201d\n\n\u201cShe who has made this barren rock send forth its living stream--she\nwill know how to make faithful hearts generous,\u201d answered the priest.\n\u201cGo, do what I tell you. Why are you afraid, O ye of little faith?\u201d\n\nThe temple rose in the proportions designed by the man of God.\n\nThe good pastor, as he watched the progress of the various works,\noften used to say:\n\n\u201cWhen will it be granted me to assist, with my priests and people, at\nthe first procession which goes to inaugurate in these hallowed\nprecincts the public worship of the Catholic Church? It seems to me\nthat then I could sing my _Nunc dimittis_, and die of joy.\u201d His eyes\nfilled with tears at the thought. Never was there a deeper or warmer\ndesire than this innocent wish of a heart given wholly to God.\n\nSometimes, at hours when the crowd was thin at the Massabielle Rocks,\na little girl used to come and kneel before the place of the\napparition, and drink of the miraculous spring. She was a poor child,\nand meanly clad--nothing marked out from the common people about. And\nif the pilgrims were all strangers to the place, no one suspected that\nit was Bernadette. This privileged soul had withdrawn into silence and\nconcealment. She went daily to the sisters\u2019 school, where she was\nthe simplest, and strove to be the most unnoticed. The numerous\nvisitors whom she was called upon to receive never disturbed her peace\nof mind, which ever retained the memory of its glimpse at heaven and\nthe incomparable Virgin. Bernadette kept all these things in her\nheart. People came from all quarters, miracles were being worked, the\ntemple was rising. Bernadette and the holy pastor of Lourdes awaited,\nas their crowning joy, the day which was to bring to their eyes the\nsight of priests of the true God leading their people, with cross\nadvanced and flying banners, to the spot of the apparitions.\n\n\n                                III.\n\nIn spite of the bishop\u2019s decree, the church in fact had not yet taken\npossession, by any public ceremony, of this spot, consecrated for\never. It was not till the 4th of April, 1864, that this was done, by\nthe inauguration and blessing of the superb statue of the Blessed\nVirgin, which was placed with all the pomp customary on such occasions\nin the rustic niche, bordered with wild flowers, where the Mother of\nGod had appeared to the child of man.[39]\n\nThe weather was magnificent. The young spring sun had risen, and\nadvanced in a blue and cloudless sky.\n\nThe streets of Lourdes were adorned with flowers, banners, garlands,\nand triumphal arches. The bells of the parish church, the chapels, and\nthe churches of the neighborhood, rang out joyous peals. Immense          111\nnumbers of people flocked together to this great festival of earth and\nheaven. A procession, such as had never been seen by the oldest\ninhabitant, moved from the church of Lourdes to the Grotto. Troops, in\nall the splendor of military attire, led the way. Following them were\nthe confraternities of Lourdes, the societies for mutual aid, and\nother associations, with their banners and crosses; the Congregation\nof the Children of Mary, whose long robes were white as snow; the\nSisters of Nevers, with their long black veil; the Daughters of\nCharity, with their great white hoods; the Sisters of St. Joseph, in\ndark mantles; the religious orders of men, the Carmelites, the\nBrothers of Instruction and of the Christian schools, and prodigious\nnumbers of pilgrims, men and women, young and old--fifty or sixty\nthousand persons in all--wound along the flowery road leading to the\nMassabielle rocks. Here and there, choirs and instrumental bands gave\na voice to the popular enthusiasm. Last, surrounded by four hundred\npriests in choir dress, his vicars-general, and the dignitaries of his\ncathedral chapter, came his lordship, Mgr. Bertrand-S\u00e9v\u00e8re Laurence,\nBishop of Tarbes, in his mitre and pontifical robes, with one hand\nblessing the people, and bearing his crosier in the other.\n\nAn indescribable emotion, an exaltation of feeling, such as only\nChristian people assembled before God can know, filled every heart.\nThe day of solemn triumph had at last come, after so many\ndifficulties, struggles, and disasters. Tears of joy, enthusiasm, and\nlove ran down the cheeks of the people, moved by an impulse from God.\n\nWhat indescribable joy must have filled the heart of Bernadette on\nthis day, as she led the Congregation of the Children of Mary! What\noverwhelming happiness must have inundated the soul of the venerable\ncur\u00e9 of Lourdes, who was no doubt at the side of the bishop, singing\nthe hosanna of the victory of God! Having both had to labor, the time\nwas certainly come for them to enter into their reward.\n\nAlas! one would have sought in vain among the Children of Mary for\nBernadette: among the clergy surrounding the bishop, the Abb\u00e9\nPeyramale would not have been found. There are joys too sweet for\nearth, which are reserved for heaven. Here below, God refuses them to\nhis dearest children.\n\nAt this time of rejoicing, when the bright sun was shining on the\ntriumph of the faithful, the cur\u00e9 of Lourdes, laboring under a disease\nwhich was expected to result fatally, was a victim to intense physical\nsufferings. He was stretched on his bed of pain, at the head of which\ntwo religious watched and prayed night and day. He wished to rise to\nsee the grand cort\u00e9ge pass, but his strength failed him, and he had\nnot even a momentary glimpse of its splendor. Through the closed\nshutters of his room, the joyous sound of the silvery bells came to\nhim only as a funeral knell.\n\nAs for Bernadette, God showed her his predilection, as usual with his\nelect, by giving her the bitter trial of pain. While Mgr. Laurence was\ngoing, accompanied by countless numbers of his flock, to take\npossession of the Massabielle rocks in the name of the church, and to\ninaugurate solemnly the devotion to the Virgin who had appeared there,\nBernadette, like the eminent priest of whom we have just spoken, was\nprostrated by illness; Providence, perhaps, fearing for this\nwell-beloved child a temptation to vainglory, deprived her of the         112\nsight of this unprecedented festivity, where she would have heard her\nname on the lips of thousands, and extolled from the pulpit by the\nvoice of enthusiastic preachers. Too poor to be taken care of in her\nown home, where neither she nor her family would ever receive any\ngift, Bernadette had been carried to the hospital, where she lay upon\nthe humble bed provided by public charity, in the midst of those poor\nwhom the world calls unfortunate, but whom Jesus Christ has blessed in\ndeclaring them the possessors of his eternal kingdom.\n\n\n                                IV.\n\nEleven years have now elapsed since the apparitions of the most Holy\nVirgin. The great church is almost finished; it has only to be roofed,\nand the holy sacrifice has long since been celebrated at all the\naltars of the crypt below. Diocesan missionaries of the house of\nGaraison have been stationed by the bishop near the grotto and the\nchurch, to distribute to the pilgrims the apostolic word, the\nsacraments, and the body of our Lord.\n\nThe pilgrimage has taken dimensions perhaps quite without precedent,\nfor before our day these vast movements of popular faith did not have\nthe assistance of the means of transportation invented by modern\nscience. The course of the Pyrenees Railroad, for which a straighter\nand cheaper route had been previously marked out between Tarbes and\nPau, was changed so as to pass through Lourdes, and innumerable\ntravellers continually come from every quarter to invoke the Virgin\nwho has appeared at the Grotto, and to seek at the miraculous fountain\nthe healing of all their ills. They come not only from the different\nprovinces of France, but also from England, Belgium, Spain, Russia,\nand Germany. Even from the midst of far America, pious Christians have\nset out, and crossed the ocean to come to the Grotto of Lourdes, to\nkneel before these sacred rocks, which the Mother of God has\nsanctified by her touch. And often those who cannot come write to the\nmissionaries, and beg that a little of the miraculous water may be\nsent to their homes. It is thus distributed throughout the world.\n\nAlthough Lourdes is a small town, there is a continual passing to and\nfro upon the road to the grotto, a stream of men, women, priests, and\ncarriages, as in the streets of a large city.\n\nWhen the pleasant weather comes, and the sun, overcoming the cold of\nwinter, opens in the midst of flowers the gates of spring, the\nfaithful of the neighborhood begin to bestir themselves for the\npilgrimage to Massabielle, no longer one by one, but in large parties.\nFrom ten, twelve, or fifteen leagues\u2019 distance, these strong\nmountaineers come on foot in bodies of one or two thousand. They set\nout in the evening and walk all night by starlight, like the shepherds\nof Judea, when they went to the crib of Bethlehem to adore the\nnew-born infant God. They descend from high peaks, they traverse deep\nvalleys, they cross foaming torrents, or follow their course, singing\nthe praises of God. And on their way the sleeping herds of cattle or\nof sheep awake, and diffuse through these desert wilds the melancholy\nsound of their sonorous bells. At daybreak, they arrive at Lourdes;\nthey spread their banners, and form in procession to go to the Grotto.\nThe men, with their blue caps and great shoes covered with dust from\ntheir long night march, rest upon a knotty stick, and usually carry\nupon their shoulders the provisions for their journey. The women wear     113\na white or red capulet. Some carry the precious burden of a child. And\nthey move on slowly, quiet and recollected, singing the litanies of\nthe Blessed Virgin.\n\nAt Massabielle they hear Mass, kneel at the holy table, and drink at\nthe miraculous spring. Then they distribute themselves, in groups\naccording to family or friendship, upon the grass around the Grotto,\nand spreading out on the sod the provisions they have brought, they\nsit down upon the green carpet of the fields. And, on the bank of the\nGave, in the shade of those hallowed rocks, they realize in their\nfrugal repast those fraternal agapes of which tradition tells us.\nThen, having received a last blessing and said a parting prayer, they\nset out with joyful hearts upon their homeward way.\n\nThus do the people of the Pyrenees visit the Grotto. But the greatest\nnumbers are not from there. From sixty or eighty leagues\u2019 distance\ncome continually immense processions, brought from these great\ndistances upon the rapid wings of steam. They come from Bayonne, from\nPeyrehorade, from La Teste, from Arcachon, from Bordeaux, and even\nfrom Paris. At the request of the faithful, the Southern Railroad has\nestablished special trains, trains of pilgrimage, intended exclusively\nfor this great and pious movement of Catholic faith. At the arrival of\nthese trains, the bells of Lourdes ring out their fullest peals. And\nfrom these sombre carriages the pilgrims come out and form in\nprocession in the square by the station; young girls dressed in white,\nmarried women, widows, children, full-grown men, the old people, and\nthe clergy in their sacred robes. Their banners are flung to the\nbreeze; the crucifix and the statues of the Blessed Virgin and the\nsaints are displayed. The praises of the Mother of God are upon every\nlip. The innumerable procession passes through the town--which seems,\non such occasions, like a holy city, like Rome or Jerusalem. One\u2019s\nheart is elated at the sight; it rises toward God, and attains without\neffort that elevation of feeling in which the eyes fill with tears and\nthe soul is overwhelmed by the sensible presence of our Lord. One\nseems to enjoy for a moment a vision of paradise.\n\nThe hand of the Almighty does not weary in shedding all kinds of\ngraces at the spot where his Mother has appeared. Miracles are still\nfrequent. Not long ago Fr. Hermann recovered his sight there.\n\n\n                                 V.\n\nGod has accomplished his work.\n\nHe says to the flake of snow, resting hidden upon the lonely peak,\n\u201cThou must come from Me to Me. Thou must pass from the inaccessible\nheights of the mountain to the unfathomable caves of the deep.\u201d And he\nsends his servant the sun with its brilliant rays to collect and draw\nalong this shining dust, changing it first into limpid pearls. The\ndrops of water run through the snow, they roll down the side of the\nmountain, they leap over the rocks, they break upon the pebbles, they\nreunite, they collect in a mass, and run together, now gently, now\nrapidly, toward the wonderful ocean, that striking image of eternal\nmovement in eternal rest--and thus they reach the valleys where the\nrace of Adam dwells.\n\n\u201cWe will stop these drops of water,\u201d says this race of man, as proud\nnow as in the days of Babel.\n\nAnd they undertake to dam up this weak and quiet stream as it gently\ncrosses their fields. But the stream laughs at their dikes of wood,       114\nearth, and pebbles.\n\n\u201cWe will stop these drops of water,\u201d the fools repeat in their\ndelirium.\n\nAnd they heap up enormous rocks; they join them together with\nimpenetrable cement. And notwithstanding, the water does leak through\nin a thousand places. But the men are numerous--they have a force\ngreater than the armies of Darius. They stop up the thousand fissures,\nthey fill up the cracks, they replace the fallen stones; and at last a\ntime comes when the stream cannot pass by. It has before it a barrier\nhigher than the pyramids, and thicker than the famous walls of\nBabylon. Beyond this gigantic obstacle, the pebbles of its dry bed are\nshining in the sun.\n\nHuman pride shouts its p\u00e6an of triumph.\n\nMeanwhile the water continues to descend from those eternal heights\nwhere it has heard the voice of God; and millions of drops, coming one\nby one, stop before the barrier and rise silently against this granite\nwall which millions of men have built.\n\n\u201cLook,\u201d say the men, \u201cat the immense power of our race. See this\nenormous wall. Raise your eyes to its summit; admire its astonishing\nheight. We have for ever conquered this stream which comes from the\nmountains.\u201d\n\nAt this moment, a thin sheet of water passes over the cyclopean\nbarrier. They run up; but the sheet has thickened--it is a river which\nis now falling, scattering on all sides the upper rocks of the wall.\n\n\u201cWhat is the matter?\u201d they cry on all sides in the doomed city.\n\nIt is the drop of water to which God has spoken, and which proceeds\ninvincibly on its way.\n\nWhat has your Babel-like wall accomplished? What have you done with\nyour herculean efforts? You have changed a quiet stream into a\nformidable cataract. You tried to stop the drop of water; but it now\nresumes its course with the violence of Niagara.\n\nHow humble was this drop of water, this word of a child to which God\nhad said, \u201cPursue thy course!\u201d How insignificant was this drop of\nwater--this shepherdess burning a candle at the Grotto--this poor\nwoman praying and offering a bouquet to the Blessed Virgin--this old\npeasant on his knees! And how strong, how apparent, impassable, and\ninvincible was this enormous wall, upon which all the force of a great\nnation, from the policeman and the gendarme to the prefect and the\nminister, had labored for eight months!\n\nBut the child, the poor woman, the old peasant, have resumed their\ncourse. Only now it is not a stray candle or a poor bouquet that\ntestifies to the popular faith; it is a magnificent monument which the\nfaithful are erecting; they are spending millions upon this temple,\nalready celebrated throughout Christendom. Their opposers thought to\nput down some scattered believers; but now they come in crowds, in\nimmense processions, displaying their banners and singing their hymns.\nThere is a pilgrimage without precedent; whole peoples now come, borne\nupon their iron roads by chariots of fire and steam. It is not now a\nlittle neighborhood which believes--it is Europe; it is the Christian\nworld which is coming from all directions. The drop of water which men\ntried to stop has become a Niagara.\n\nGod has finished his work. And now, as on the seventh day, when he\nentered into his rest, he has resigned to men the duty of profiting\nby this work, and the formidable responsibility of developing or          115\ncompromising it. He has given them a germ of abundant grace, as of\nother things; the burden remains on them of cultivating and maturing\nit. They can multiply it a hundredfold by walking humbly and holily in\nthe order of his providence; they can make it unfruitful by refusing\nto enter into this order. Every good thing from on high is entrusted\nto human liberty, as the terrestrial paradise was at the outset, on\nthe condition of laboring for and keeping it--\u201c_ut operaretur et\ncustodiret illum_.\u201d Let us beseech God that men may not reject what\nhe has done for them, and that they may not by earthly ideas or\nirreligious acts break in their guilty or awkward hands the sacred\nvessel of divine grace which they have received in trust.\n\n\n                                VI.\n\nMost of the persons mentioned in the course of this long history are\nstill alive. The prefect, Baron Massy, Judge Duprat, Mayor Lacad\u00e9, and\nMinister Fould are dead.\n\nSome of them have made several steps in advance on the road to\nfortune. M. Rouland has left the Ministry of Public Worship (for which\nhe does not seem to have been well fitted), to take care of the Bank\nof France. M. Dutour, the procureur-imperial, has become counsellor of\nthe court; M. Jacomet is the chief commissary of police in one of the\nlargest cities of the empire.\n\nBourriette, Croisine Bouhohorts and her son, Mme. Rizan, Henri\nBusquet, Mlle. Moreau de Sazenay, the widow Crozat, Jules Lacassagne,\nand all those whose cures we have recorded, are still full of life,\nand testify by their recovered health and strength to the powerful\nmercy of the apparition at the Grotto.\n\nDr. Dozous continues to be the most eminent physician of Lourdes. Dr.\nVergez is at the spring of Bar\u00e8ges and attests to the visitors at this\ncelebrated resort the miracles which he formerly witnessed. M.\nEstrade, whose impartial observations we have several times given, is\nreceiver of indirect contributions at Bordeaux. He lives at No. 14 Rue\nDucau.\n\nNow, as formerly, Mgr. Laurence is Bishop of Tarbes. Age has not\ndiminished his faculties. He is to-day what we have represented him in\nthis work. He has near the Grotto a house to which he sometimes\nretires, to meditate in this spot, beloved by the Virgin, on the great\nduties and the grave responsibilities of a Christian bishop who has\nreceived so wonderful a grace in his diocese.[40]\n\nThe Abb\u00e9 Peyramale recovered from the severe illness of which we spoke\nabove. He is still the venerated pastor of this Christian town of\nLourdes, where his record is left in ineffaceable characters. Long\nafter he is gone, when he rests under the sod in the midst of the\ngeneration which he has formed to the Lord; when the successors of his\nsuccessors live in his house and occupy the great wooden chair in his\nchurch, his memory will be living in the minds of all; and when the\n\u201cCur\u00e9 of Lourdes\u201d is mentioned, every one will think of him.\n\nLouise Soubirous, the mother of Bernadette, died on the 8th of\nDecember, 1866, the very day of the feast of the Immaculate\nConception. In choosing this festival to take the mother from the\nmiseries of the world, she who had said to the child, \u201cI am the\nImmaculate Conception,\u201d seems to have intended to temper the              116\nbitterness of the loss to the heart of her survivors, and to show them\nas a Certain pledge of hope and of a happy resurrection the sign of\nher radiant appearance.\n\nWhile thousands go to the Grotto to contribute to the splendid church,\nBernadette\u2019s father has remained a poor miller, subsisting with\ndifficulty by manual labor. Mary, the daughter, who was with\nBernadette at the time of the first apparition, has married a good\npeasant, who has become a miller and works with his father-in-law. The\nother companion, Jane Abbadie, is a servant at Bordeaux.\n\n\n                               VII.\n\nBernadette is no longer at Lourdes. We have seen how she had, on many\noccasions, refused gifts freely offered, and repelled the good fortune\nwhich was knocking at the door of her humble cottage. She was dreaming\nof other riches. \u201cWe shall know some fine day,\u201d the unbelievers had\nsaid at the outset, \u201cwhat her pay is going to be.\u201d Bernadette had in\nfact chosen her pay, and put her hand on her reward. She has become a\nSister of Charity. She has devoted herself to tend in the hospitals\nthe poor and the sick collected by public benevolence.\n\nAfter having seen with her own eyes the resplendent face of the thrice\nholy Mother of God, what could she do but become the compassionate\nservant of those of whom the Virgin\u2019s Son has said: \u201cAs long as you\ndid it to one of these my least brethren, you did it to me.\u201d\n\nIt is among the Sisters of Charity and Christian Instruction at Nevers\nthat Bernadette has taken the veil. She is called Sister\nMarie-Bernard. We have lately seen her in her religious habit at the\nmother-house of this congregation. Though she is now twenty-five,\nher face has kept the character and the charm of childhood. In her\npresence, the heart feels moved in its better part by an indescribable\nreligious sentiment, and one leaves it embalmed in the perfume of this\npeaceful innocence. One understands that the Holy Virgin has specially\nloved her. Otherwise, there is nothing extraordinary, nothing which\nwould make her conspicuous, or would make one suspect the important\npart she has filled in this communication from heaven to earth. Her\nsimplicity has not been touched by the unexampled interest which has\nbeen taken in her. The concourse and enthusiasm of the multitude have\nno more troubled her soul than the turbid water of a torrent would\ntarnish the imperishable purity of a diamond.\n\nGod visits her still, not now by bright visions, but by the sacred\ntrial of suffering. She is often ill, and suffers cruelly; but she\nbears her pains with a sweet and almost playful patience. Sometimes\nthey have thought her dead. \u201cI shall not die just yet,\u201d she would say,\nsmiling.\n\nShe never speaks, unless questioned, of the favors which she has\nreceived.\n\nShe was the Blessed Virgin\u2019s messenger. Now that she has given her\nmessage, she has retired into the shade of religious life, wishing to\nbe unnoticed among a number of companions.\n\nIt is a trouble to her when the world comes to seek her in the depth\nof her retreat, and when some circumstance obliges her to appear\nbefore it again. She fears the glory of this life. She lives in the\nhumility of the Lord, and is dead to the vanities of the earth. And\nthis book which we have written, and which speaks so much of\nBernadette, Sister Marie-Bernard will never read.\n\n\n     [39] This statue, made of fine Carrara marble, of\n     life-size, was presented to the Grotto of Lourdes by two\n     noble and pious sisters of the diocese of Lyons, Mesdames de\n     Lacour. It was executed according to Bernadette\u2019s particular\n     instructions, by M. Fabish, the eminent Lyonnese sculptor.\n     The Blessed Virgin is represented as Bernadette described\n     her, with scrupulous regard to the smallest details, and\n     rare talent in execution.\n\n     [40] Mgr. Laurence died at the Vatican Council in the\n     winter of 1869-70.\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n                      THE RIOT OF THE TWELFTH.                            117\n\n\nWe are late in our comments on the riot of the 12th of July last in\nthis city, occasioned by the Orange procession in commemoration of the\nBattle of the Boyne; but as what we have to say relates to general\nprinciples rather than to particular facts, our remarks will have\nsuffered little from the delay, and will stand a chance of being more\ncarefully read and duly weighed than if made at an earlier day. The\ntragic event is not likely to be soon forgotten.\n\nThe secular press of the city have, as far as we have observed, with\nscarcely an exception, taken the ground that, however ill-advised\nmight be the Orange procession, it was a right of the Orangemen, and\nthe liberty of the citizen was infringed by the police order\nprohibiting it. The order was also an act of cowardice, as dictated by\nfear of a Catholic mob; and hence its revocation by the governor, and\nhis excellency\u2019s resolution to sustain the majesty of the law, and to\nprotect the Orange procession by all the force, if necessary, at his\ncommand, was a firm and manly interference in behalf of liberty and\nlaw. The sectarian press of city and country see in the police order\nprohibiting the procession--dictated, it is assumed, by the Catholic\nclergy--only a proof of the hatred of the Catholic Church to liberty\nand republican institutions, and in the action of the governor, and\nthe bravery of the military in firing on the crowd, and killing and\nwounding a large number of citizens, for the most part innocent, except\nof idle curiosity, an assurance much needed, that Protestants have as\nyet even in this country some rights which Catholics are bound and can\nbe compelled to respect.\n\nThe view taken by the sectarian press is ridiculous, as well as\nmalicious. The Catholic Church was the victim of the riot, but her\nonly responsibility for it was in warning her children against it, and\nbidding them to let the procession alone, and not to go near it. If\nshe had been heeded, there would have been no riot, no disturbance.\nThe question was not a Catholic question, and the church had nothing\nto gain by preventing the procession, still less by a riot to break it\nup. The pretence that the rights of Protestants are in danger from\nCatholics in this country, where the Protestants outnumber the\nCatholics as eight or ten to one, is too absurd to be even a passable\njoke. Do the sectarian journals count one Catholic more than a match\nfor eight or ten Protestants? That were a greater compliment to us\nthan we deserve. We are afraid the sectarian leaders have bad\nconsciences, which make them cowards. Catholics cannot show the least\nsign of vitality, or make the slightest move for the practical\npossession of the equal rights guaranteed them by the constitution and\nlaws, but they take fright, tremble in their shoes, and cry out:\n\u201cLiberty is in danger!\u201d the Pope is going to suppress American\nrepublicanism, strip Protestants of their rights, cut their throats,\nor reduce them to be \u201chewers of wood and drawers of water\u201d to--the\nJesuits. They are dreadfully alarmed, or affect to be, and create a       118\npanic throughout the whole country. But, dear frightened souls, there\nis no occasion for your alarm, unless you suppose you cannot be free\nif everybody else is not enslaved. Even if we were the majority of the\nAmerican people, as we are not, nor likely to be to-day, to-morrow, or\nthe day after, you would be in no danger, for we understand liberty as\nwell as you do, appreciate it more highly, love it better, and have\nmade greater sacrifices for it than you can imagine. Not a few of us\nhave fled hither from the tyranny and oppression of Protestant\ngovernments, expatriated ourselves for the sake of liberty, and do you\nbelieve us such fools as to destroy it the moment we have found it?\n\nThis talk about the hostility of the church to liberty and American\nrepublicanism, when not malicious, is sheer nonsense. The acts\nProtestants allege to prove that the church is hostile to liberty,\nprove the contrary; for they were acts done against tyrants and\ndespots in defence of liberty, both civil and religious. What were her\nlong struggles against the Franconian and Suabian emperors, but\nstruggles on her part for the freedom of religion, the basis and\nprinciple of all true liberty? Why did the popes deny to kings and\nemperors in the middle ages the right of investiture by the cross and\nring, but because to have conceded it would have enslaved the church\nto C\u00e6sar, and destroyed the independence of religion and the freedom\nof conscience? Know you not that it was under the fostering care and\nprotection of the church that grew up the freedom and independence of\nall modern nations? What nation, state, or people has she ever\ndeprived of independence or liberty? If she has asserted the rights\nof sovereigns, and condemned sedition, turbulence, conspiracies,\ninsurrections, rebellions, on the part of the people, she has been\nequally prompt and determined in asserting the rights and franchises\nof subjects, and in censuring, excommunicating, and even deposing,\nwhen professing to be Catholic, the tyrant who despoiled and oppressed\nthem. The great principles of justice and equality on which American\nrepublicanism is founded were taught by hooded friars in their\nmonasteries, and proclaimed from the Papal throne ages before the\nlanding at Plymouth of the Pilgrims from the _Mayflower_, or the\nsettlement of English colonists on the banks of the James. Do, dear\nfriends, read and try to understand a little of history, and dismiss\nyour idle fears, or, if fear you must, fear for the salvation of your\nown souls hereafter.\n\nThe fact is, we are a little impatient when we hear Protestants\nexpressing in grave tones and with a serious face their apprehensions\nthat the spread of Catholicity will tend to the destruction of\nAmerican liberty. Considering what Protestantism is, and by what means\nit was introduced and has been sustained, it is too much as if Satan\nshould express serious apprehensions that the spread of the Gospel may\ntend to the destruction of Christian piety and humility. We find among\nProtestants men, and not a few, who, when they speak of liberty, mean\nliberty for all men, for Catholics as well as for non-Catholics; but\nyour true-blue Protestant, who is imbued with the original and genuine\nspirit of Protestantism, would seem unable to understand by liberty\nanything but his right to govern, or by religious liberty anything but\nhis right to reject the papacy, abuse the Pope, calumniate and despoil\nthe church, and exterminate or enslave Catholics. Who has not heard of    119\nTyburn, and who went there--of the infamous penal laws against\nCatholics of England and Ireland, to say nothing of other countries?\nAnd were not these same penal laws enacted and enforced in the colony\nof Virginia, and was it not a capital offence in Massachusetts for a\npriest to set his foot within the colony, or for an inhabitant to\nharbor or give him even a meal of victuals? Did not Massachusetts fit\nout and send from Boston an armed body of men, who shot down Father\nRasle, a missionary to the Norridgewock Indians, at the head of his\ncongregation as they came forth from Mass, and massacred them? Did not\nan American Provincial Congress enumerate among their grave charges\nagainst George III. the fact that he had granted freedom of worship to\nCatholics in the neighboring province of Canada? Was not Guy Fawkes\u2019\nDay celebrated in Boston with the usual anti-popery demonstrations\ndown to the epoch of the Revolution, until protested against by some\nFrench officers, who came with the army from France to aid us in\ngaining our national independence? Yet Protestants do not blush to\ncall Protestantism the friend, and Catholicity the enemy, of liberty!\n\nProtestants have very short memories if they have forgotten these\nthings, or else they suppose that Catholics have no memories at all if\nthey suppose that we can permit them to claim, unchallenged, to be and\nalways to have been the party of liberty. It is not, however, the\nstrangest delusion of Protestants, and is only of a piece with their\ndelusion that Protestantism is Christianity and sustained by the Holy\nScriptures. But let this pass. We yield to no one in our devotion to\nliberty or in our readiness to defend the rights of the citizen. We\nhave no sympathy with the rioters of the Twelfth of July and not one\nword to offer in their defence. They broke both the law of the church\nand the law of the land, sinned against God, and committed a crime\nagainst the state. But we venture to deny that the police order\nforbidding the Orange procession infringed the liberty of any citizen\nor deprived the Orangemen of any right they had or could have on\nAmerican soil. No men or class of men have the right, in the\nperformance of no civil or religious duty, but for their own pleasure\nor gratification of their own passions, to do any act or make any\ndisplay in the judgment of the police certain or very likely to\nprovoke a riot or breach of the peace. This is common sense, and, we\npresume, common law.\n\nThe Orangemen were required by no duty, civil or religious, to\ncelebrate the battle of the Boyne by a public procession in the\nstreets of our city, nor were they called to do it by any sentiment of\npatriotism--not of Irish patriotism, for the battle of the Boyne\nresulted in the subjugation, not the liberation, of Ireland--not\nAmerican patriotism, for the event was foreign to American\nnationality. No foreign patriotism has any right on American soil. The\nevent commemorated is wholly foreign to our patriotism. It occurred in\na foreign country before our nationality was born, and has no relation\nwhatever to any American sentiment. No precession not in honor of\nreligion or some religious event, and wholly disconnected with\nAmerican interests or sentiments, has any right on American soil, and\ncan only take place by courtesy or sufferance, indifference or connivance.\nThe prohibition of the Orange procession by the police would have         120\ndeprived the Orangemen of no right which they had or could pretend to\nhave in this country; and if the procession was designed or even\nlikely to irritate a portion of our citizens, and to provoke a riot,\nit was not only the right but the duty of the police, as conservators\nof the peace, to prohibit it, and as far as possible to prevent it.\n\nBut the right and the duty of the police do not stop here. There is\nanother side to the question. Every peaceable citizen has the right to\nwalk the streets without being insulted or having his feelings\noutraged. Processions, banners, songs, tunes offensive, and really\nintended to be offensive, to any portion of the community, and in\ncommemoration of no American event, in satisfaction of no American\nsentiment, or in the performance of no civil, military, or religious\nduty incumbent on American citizens, are never allowable, for the\ninsult and outrage offered to the feelings and sentiments, no matter\nof what class of the population, is purely wanton, malicious, and\nwholly unjustifiable. Of this sort is manifestly the insult and\noutrage offered by Orange processions, banners, songs, and tunes to\nall of our Irish fellow-citizens not of the Orange party; and these\nfellow-citizens of Irish birth or extraction, though they have no\nright to take the law into their own hands, have undoubtedly the\nright, on American soil, to be protected by the American authorities\nfrom insult and outrage to their feelings and sentiments, just as much\nas persons have the right to be protected from indecent sights in the\npublic streets, or the display of obscene pictures and images in the\nshop-windows.\n\nBut these Orangemen--very few, if any, of whom, we are told, are\nAmerican citizens--outrage American as well as Irish manhood. Their\ncelebrations here are an insult to every true American, for they are\nin honor of principles and deeds abhorrent to every American heart.\nFor them to bring their old quarrels hither from a foreign land would\nbe reprehensible, even if their quarrels were not utterly disgraceful\nto them, but they become a gross outrage when the real character of\ntheir quarrel with their loyal countrymen is considered. The deeds of\nthe party in Ireland they represent are such as are condemned by every\ndistinctive American principle, and a more infamous party it would be\ndifficult to find in any country on earth. They represent the party\nthat in Ireland fought for a foreign invader and a chief of rebels\nagainst their own country, and were at once traitors to their king and\nnation. They represent the party that enacted the infamous and\nbrutalizing penal laws which deprived the loyal Irish--who in the\nbattle of the Boyne fought for and at the command of their rightful\nking against rebels, traitors, foreign invaders, and enemies--of every\nvestige of civil and religious liberty, even making it a crime for a\nfather to teach his own child letters, and doomed their descendants,\ntill within our own memory, to the most cruel, heartless, and hopeless\noppression ever endured by any people in the world; they represent the\nparty that, after the Presbyterian and Jacobin movement of 1798, into\nwhich some Catholics had been inveigled by the promise of freedom for\ntheir religion, and left to do the fighting and to bear almost alone\nthe penalty of defeat, were the authors of the savage butcheries\ninflicted by the Orange yeomanry on the Catholic peasantry, even on\nthose who had taken no part in the movement, and were innocent of all\noffence except that of sighing to be delivered from bondage, and\ntreated as men made in God\u2019s image, not as wild beasts, whom it is a      121\nmerit to hunt out and shoot down wherever they can be found. They\ncommemorate in their processions, their banners, their songs and\ntunes, the triumph of treachery, baseness, bigotry, persecution,\noppression, murder, rapine, and wholesale massacres, unsurpassed in\nthe history of the most barbarous and heathenish nations.\n\nNever was there a more cruel and bloodthirsty party, one redeemed by\nfewer virtues or blackened by more or greater crimes, or more\ndeserving the execration of mankind, than that which these Orangemen\nrepresent and delight to honor. Is it no insult to us free-born\nAmericans for them to come here and flaunt in our faces their banners\nstained with the blood of the innocent and the good, branded by the\nwidow\u2019s curse, and wet with the orphan\u2019s tears--symbols of ages of\nwrong, oppression, and religious intolerance and persecution? Is it\nhere, in free America, they dare come to boast in public of their\ncrimes, and glory in their infamy? Do not we Americans profess to\nabhor persecution, tyranny, and oppression? Do we not, as a sovereign\npeople, proclaim to the world that we have opened an asylum to the\nwronged, the oppressed, the downtrodden of every land and of every\nbelief? Where, then, is our manhood when we allow the tyrant, the\noppressor, the persecutor, to come here and insult and outrage his\nvictims in the very asylum we profess to have opened to them? What\ngreater insult to all that is noble and manly can be offered Americans\nthan to be even asked to protect those who will not respect even the\nright of asylum?\n\nNo, no; the press has taken only a one-sided view in calling the\nprohibition of the Orange procession a violation of freedom and a\ncowardly yielding to Irish or Catholic dictation. It was no such\nthing. The Orangemen had no right on their side, and were entitled to\nno protection. Liberty was on the other side, and its vindication and\nthe right of asylum required us as Americans to protect the victims of\nthe Orange party who had sought refuge with us from Orange insult and\noutrage on our own soil. His excellency the governor of the state also\ntook only a hasty and a very incorrect view of the case in revoking\nthe very proper order of the police. We are as far as he can be from\nyielding to the dictation of the mob. When a mob has collected, it\nmust be admitted to no parley, and the only answer to be given to its\ndemands is the reading of the riot act, and a whiff of grape-shot or a\nshower of musket-balls. But no threats of violence should ever deter\nauthority from doing what is right, and, in this case, right was not\non the side of the Orangemen. Authority must be just as well as firm.\nThe threats of violence were wrong, but they did not put the Orangemen\nin the right. Authority was bound to protect the Orangemen from actual\nviolence, but it was not bound to protect them in the performance of\nacts which they had no moral or legal right to perform, and which it\nwas foreseen, if permitted, would lead to violence. One wrong is not\nredressed by permitting another that must provoke it.\n\nHis excellency\u2019s revocation of the order of the police prohibiting the\nOrange procession, and promise to protect the procession by all the\nforce at his command, cannot be defended on the ground that the party\nopposed threatened violence in case the procession took place, unless\nit be assumed that the Orangemen had a perfect moral or legal right to\nmarch in procession through our streets in their regalia, and with        122\ntheir insulting banners flying and bands playing offensive marches.\nBut they had no such right, as we have seen, and the party making the\nthreats, however wrong the threats were, had the right to be protected\nfrom the insult and outrage offered to their feelings by such a\ndisplay. The vindication of liberty did not require the procession to\ntake place, for liberty is not infringed where no right is violated or\nabridged; and the assertion of the majesty of the law never requires\nprotection of a wrong because they who would be aggrieved by it have\nthreatened, if permitted, they will attempt by violence to right\nthemselves. Neither American liberty nor law required the Orange\nprocession to be permitted, and if both liberty and law required a\nmob, when collected, to be dispersed and the violence suppressed, they\nboth also required the protection of American citizens from public\ninsult and outrage. His excellency forgot the duty of protecting\nAmerican citizens from wrong, and thought only of protecting a foreign\nand wholly un-American party in committing it.\n\nYet we have no doubt that the mistaken conduct of the governor--an\nable man, a good lawyer, and for the most part a worthy chief\nmagistrate of the state--was chiefly prompted by the clamor against\nCatholics, and the charge brought against his party by its opponents\nof acting under the dictation of Catholics, who, of course, it is\nassumed, act always under the dictation of their clergy, and was\nintended to refute the charge by showing his readiness to protect even\nProtestant Orangemen, and shoot down their hereditary enemies, though\nCatholics. The charge, we know, was made against the party now in\npower in this state; but his excellency should not have allowed it\nto move him. It is no doubt true that, but for the votes of citizens\nwho happen to be Catholics, he would never have been governor of the\nstate, and his party would be, at least for the present, in a hopeless\nminority; but we cannot allow that Catholics have presumed upon the\nfact, or asked anything not their right as simple American citizens,\nand we know that they have obtained less than their equal rights, even\nin this city, where they can probably count not much less than\none-half of the population. But the charge is a mere party trick,\ndesigned, through the sectarian prejudice against Catholicity, to\nthrow the party now in out of power. The governor seems to us to have\nfallen into the trap his political enemies set for him, and has not\nunlikely damaged the political prospects both of himself and of his\nparty.\n\nThe clamor against the party on account of its Catholic leaders and\nsupporters means only that the _outs_ are anxious to become the\n_ins_. The party out of power in the State would as willingly\nreceive the votes of Catholic citizens as does the party in power, and\nwhen in power it did, we believe, more for Catholics than the party\nnow in power has ever yet done, though it, doubtless, promised less.\nCatholics have never had any reason for giving their votes to the\nDemocratic party but that, in doing so, they followed, very\ndisinterestedly, their honest political convictions.\n\nThe pretence of Protestants that Catholics in or out of office act\npolitically under the dictation of their clergy, and in reference to\nCatholic interests as such, is too notoriously false to mislead\nanybody. Those prominent politicians, in or out of office, who happen\nto be Catholics, are the last men in the world to listen to the           123\ndictation of the clergy or to act in obedience to the orders of their\nchurch, and they take infinite pains to prove that their religion has\nnothing to do with their politics, in order, we suppose, to escape the\nsuspicion of being influenced in their political conduct by regard for\nCatholic interests. Their party standing is more to them than their\nCatholic standing, and they consult rarely the wishes or interests of\ntheir church, and usually only the wishes and interests of their party\nand its leaders. All the offices in the state or nation might be\nfilled by Catholics, the constituencies remaining unchanged, without\nany more advantage accruing to the church than if they were all filled\nby Protestants. Catholics and Protestants alike, when in office,\nconsult their constituencies, and act in the way and manner they judge\nmost likely to secure votes to themselves or their party.\n\nThe fact is, Catholicity has never placed any man in city, state, or\nnation in office, and never yet has any man in our country been\nelected to office because he is Catholic. The Catholics who are in\noffice under the municipal, state, or federal government, in congress,\nin the state senate, or the assembly, are there not because they are\nCatholics, but because they are Democrats or Republicans, or because\nthey are of Irish, German, or some other foreign origin, and have or\nare supposed to have influence in securing the so-called \u201cIrish vote,\u201d\nthe \u201cGerman vote,\u201d or the \u201cforeign vote\u201d--distinctions which should\nhave no place in American politics--not because they are Catholics,\nand supposed to be devoted to Catholic interests. There is an \u201cIrish\nvote,\u201d a \u201cGerman vote,\u201d a \u201cforeign vote,\u201d but no \u201cCatholic vote,\u201d and,\nthe constituencies remaining the same, Catholic interests would be\njust as safe in the hands of American Protestants as in the hands of\nCatholics elected to office, not for their Catholicity, but for their\nreal or supposed influence with our naturalized fellow-citizens; and\nperhaps safer, because Protestants would be less likely to be\nsuspected of acting under Catholic influence, and therefore could act\nmore independently.\n\nIt is, we think, a mistake on the part of our politicians who are\nCatholics, whether in or out of office, to be so anxious not to be\nsuspected of acting under Catholic influence and in view of Catholic\ninterests. The church asks only what is just, only to be protected in\nthe possession of the equal rights before the state, guaranteed to her\nby the constitution of the state, and which are not always respected\nby the popular sentiment of the country. The care which politicians\ntake to show themselves independent in their political action, if\nCatholics, gains them no credit, and a frank, open, straightforward,\nand manly course would gain much more respect for themselves and for\ntheir religion. Indeed, their sensitiveness and over-caution on this\npoint tend to excite the very suspicion they would guard against, or\nthe suspicion that their conduct is diplomatic, and that they have\nsome ulterior purpose in reserve which they artfully and adroitly\nconceal. The church is supposed by Protestants to be the very\nembodiment of craftiness and dissimulation, always and everywhere\nintriguing to get the control of the secular power, and to wield it in\nher own interest regardless of all rights and interests of the citizen\nwho happens not to be Catholic. Hence, every Catholic politician is\nsuspected beforehand of craft, intrigue, of crooked and underhand\nways, lacking frankness, openness, and straightforward honesty. The       124\nonly way to repel this false and unjust suspicion is for such\nCatholics as are politicians to show in an open and manly manner that\nneither they nor their church have any sinister purpose, and that in\nbeing devoted to her interests and acting under influence as good\nCatholics, they have nothing to conceal, and no ends to gain for her\nincompatible with their plain duty as American citizens, or which they\nfear or hesitate to avow in the face of all men. The best way to quell\na wild beast is to look him steadily in the eye, and show that you do\nnot fear him.\n\nBut to return to the question more immediately before us. If the press\nand the executive had looked at the subject from the point of view of\ncommon sense, as a simple question of right and wrong, without\nprejudice against Catholics or in favor of Protestants, and without\nany wish to charge or acquit any party of being under Catholic\ninfluence, they could not, it seems to us, have failed to see that\nliberty was violated in permitting, not in prohibiting, the Orange\nprocession. Party or sectarian prejudices obscured the judgment, and\nmany lives of innocent persons were lost in consequence.\n\nIt is contended by some that if a procession of Catholic Irish in\nhonor of St. Patrick is allowed, the Orange procession of the\nProtestant Irish should also be allowed; either permit both, or\nprohibit both. The celebration of St. Patrick\u2019s Day as a festival of\nthe Catholic Church, which it is, even by a public procession through\nour streets, if peaceable and orderly, is a right guaranteed in the\nfreedom of the Catholic religion under our constitution and laws, and\nso far differs totally from the Orange procession. As a purely Irish\nnational festival, it can be celebrated here only by courtesy, as is\nSt. George\u2019s Day by the English, St. Nicholas\u2019s Day by the Dutch, or\nSt. Andrew\u2019s Day by the Scotch; for no foreign nationality has any\nright on American soil; otherwise, American nationality would not be\nindependent and supreme on American territory. No foreign national\nfestivals in commemoration or honor of events and interests or\nsentiments foreign to American nationality and interests and\nsentiments, can be publicly celebrated here except by indifference,\ncourtesy, sufferance, connivance, national comity, or international\ntreaty.\n\nThis rule, however, does not apply to religious festivals and\ncelebrations, whether Catholic or Protestant, because in the eye of\nthe state all religion is catholic, and not national, and, therefore,\nnever a foreigner in any nation. Protestants cannot claim Orange\ncelebrations as a right, though the Orangemen are all good\nProtestants, because the event celebrated is a foreign political, not\na religious event; yet they have the right to institute and celebrate\nfestivals in honor of Martin Luther, John Calvin, John Knox, and other\nProtestant reformers; for these being the founders of their religion\nare as such not foreigners. Catholics may also celebrate here any of\nthe festivals of the church in the way and manner she prescribes,\nbecause they are religious festivals, and the right to celebrate them\nis included in the freedom of conscience; so may they celebrate\npublicly the birthday of the Holy Father, his return to Rome from his\nexile at Ga\u00ebta and Portici, the completion of the twenty-fifth year of\nhis pontificate, or his liberation, when effected, from his present\nimprisonment, and the recovery for the Holy See of the possessions of\nwhich she has been sacrilegiously despoiled--because, as the chief of\ntheir religion, he is no foreigner in America.\n\nThe German peace celebration, as it was called, but really the            125\ncelebration of the German conquest and humiliation of France, our\nancient ally, was by sufferance, not by right. The Fenian\norganizations, marches and countermarches, parades and processions in\nhonor of victories not won, are absolutely illegal, and take place\nonly by the connivance--we might say the culpable connivance--of the\ngovernment, if Great Britain, against whom they are directed, did not\nherself allow demonstrations on her own soil against foreign\nsovereigns. The celebrations of Italian unity, since effected by\nfraud, violence, sacrilege, and robbery, the spoliation of the Holy\nSee, and the imprisonment of the Pope, perhaps should be regarded as\nthe celebrations of the successes of Protestant principles, and\ntherefore, by a right secured in the civil freedom of Protestantism,\nand if peaceable and orderly, not prohibitable by the police. They may\nbe annoying to Catholics, but so is Protestantism itself; but\nProtestants have, so far as the secular authorities go, the same right\nto be Protestants that we have to be Catholics.\n\nWe have already shown that it is ridiculous to attempt to hold the\nchurch responsible for the riot. The rioters may have been nominal\nCatholics; but, if so, they were bad Catholics, for they acted\ncontrary to the principles of their church, and the advice and\ndirection of their pastors, and the church cannot be held responsible\nfor acts done contrary to her orders and in violation of her\nprinciples. The rioters, themselves, knew and owned that they were\ndisobeying their church, and defended themselves on the ground that\nthe question was a national not a religious question, and, therefore,\nnot within the jurisdiction of the clergy. Their defence was a lame\none, and proved they were no true Catholics; for the church, without\nassuming to decide the national, party, or political question, had\nfull jurisdiction of the morality of their acts, and was quite\ncompetent to condemn the passions of anger and revenge that actuated\nthem and their riotous proceedings, as condemned by the law of God.\n\nBut there are Catholics in this city of fifteen or twenty different\nnationalities, and yet the rioters were exclusively of Irish origin,\nwhich is full proof that the riot was not Catholic, but Irish. Had it\nbeen a Catholic riot, inspired by the church and for a Catholic\nobject, for which the church could be held responsible, Catholics,\nirrespective of their nationality, would have been engaged in it, and\nit would not have been confined to persons of one nationality alone.\nIt was, as everybody knows, an Irish riot, occasioned by an old Irish\nfeud between two Irish parties, not an American or a Catholic riot.\nThese hot-headed, disobedient Irishmen, even if Catholics, could not\ncommit the church to their disorderly and criminal proceedings.\n\nIt is only fair to add that this handful of Irish rioters could not\nany more commit the great body of our Irish fellow-citizens. According\nto the last census, there were 201,000 souls in this city who were\nborn in Ireland, to say nothing of their children and grandchildren\nborn here. There probably was not over five hundred, if so many,\nactively engaged in the riot; but double the number, say there were a\nthousand, and they are quite too few, even if they were of reputable\ncharacter, which they were not, to commit so large a body as that of\nour Irish population, most of whom remained quietly engaged in their\nordinary avocations. That the Irish furnish their full quota of\nrowdies, roughs, and disorderly persons in our large towns, nobody        126\ndenies; but we must remember that there are plenty of the same class\nnot of Irish origin, and there have been riots, and riots of a very\ngrave character, in which the Irish had no hand, though of some of\nthem they were the victims. We have seen more than one American mob in\nwhich the chief actors were respectable, well-dressed Protestant\nAmerican citizens.\n\nThere are Irishmen who are wealthy and wear fine clothes that are no\ncredit to their race or their religion, but the Catholic Irish as a\nbody constitute a sober, quiet, peaceable, intelligent, religious,\nindustrious, and thriving portion of our population, and no\nAmerican-born citizen has any right to say a word in disparagement of\nthem. Indeed, we may say of the Catholic population of the city\ngenerally, that it is that portion of the population that it can least\nafford to spare. Were the city to lose them, it would lose the very\npopulation that has contributed, and contributes, the most to its high\nmoral and religious character, to its industry and wealth, and on\nwhich its prosperity chiefly depends. With all their faults, and they\nare many, and many more in the eyes of the Catholic than of the\nProtestant, they are, as they should be, decidedly the best people\ngoing. Their vices are on the surface; their virtues lie deeper, and\nare many, solid, and durable. We bless God that we are permitted to\ncall them brethren, and that we are with them in the unity of faith\nand communion, though we happen to be an American of the seventh\ngeneration, and it was our misfortune to be reared a Protestant.\n\nWe think the conduct of the Democratic party towards their Catholic\nsupporters is discreditable. Any party may feel itself honored that\nsecures the votes of the great body of our Catholic citizens, whether\nnaturalized or native-born citizens, and no party will suffer in the\nend by insisting on justice to Catholics and to Catholic interests.\nAny party, by frankly and fearlessly sustaining the equal rights of\nCatholics with Protestants, and maintaining the freedom and\nindependence of religion, will not only serve truly their country, and\nrespond to the demands of American patriotism, but they will best\nensure its own permanent prosperity, power, and influence. They who\nscorn and trample on the church may flourish for a time like the green\nbay tree, but in the end they will wither and die, and their places be\nsought, and not found. It is well for every political party to\nremember that God reigns, and that they who scorn his church, whom he\nhath purchased with his own blood, will in turn be scorned by the\n\u201cKing of kings, and Lord of lords.\u201d\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n                 THE PLACE VENDOME AND LA ROQUETTE.                       127\n\n             THE BEGINNING AND THE END OF THE COMMUNE.\n\n                     FROM LE CORRESPONDANT.\n\n\nIt would be difficult to find in the history of human revolutions a\nspectacle at once as burlesque and terrible as that just presented by\nthe too celebrated Commune of Paris. It began with a long trail of\nblood at the entrance of the Place Vend\u00f4me, and signalized its\nwretched end by the horrible massacre of La Roquette. A witness of\nthese two bloody scenes, I shall depict them with but few comments,\nbut with perfect exactness of detail. At the risk of being incomplete,\nI shall only relate what I saw. In speaking of the confinement at\nMazas and the massacres at La Roquette, I shall barely add some\nincidents, the truth of which was vouched for by the companions of my\ncruel captivity. Comments would only weaken the impressiveness of\nthese facts. I leave my readers to draw their own conclusions from a\nmoral and social point of view, only remarking that the first account,\nrelating to the events that transpired in the Place Vend\u00f4me during the\nlatter half of March, was drawn up a few days after they occurred.\n\nThough the first essays of the Commune were not marked by the nameless\nhorrors that drew upon its end the reprobation of all civilized\nnations, I have thought it right not to alter my first account.\nPerhaps some observations may not appear sufficiently severe, and\nothers not wholly justified by the events. I give them to the public\nas they were noted down at the time. By comparing the account written\nat the end of March with that of the end of May, an exact idea may be\nformed--I was going to say a faithful photograph may be had--of the\nrevolutionary condition of Paris at the beginning and the end of the\nCommune. We may thereby be enabled to judge of the development, during\nthis short interval, of a brutal revolution--the implacable enemy of\nall institutions, human and divine.\n\nIn spite of the mingled emotions of horror and disgust I feel in\nrecalling the men and the deeds I speak of, I may be permitted to\nmanifest two feelings that prevail over all others in the depths of my\nsoul--a redoubling of constant sympathy for the unhappy city of Paris,\nonly rendered dearer by its misfortunes, and an ardent gratitude for\nthe infinite mercy of God, which preserved me, contrary to all human\nexpectation, from the bullets of a herd of assassins more shameless\nand lower than their predecessors of 1793.\n\n\n                                 I.\n\n     THE PLACE VEND\u00d4ME ON THE NIGHT OF THE TWENTY-FIRST OF MARCH.\n\nI passed a great part of Tuesday, the twenty-first of March, in\ndiscussing with some political friends the intolerable situation of\nthings at Paris, effected by the triumphal mob of Saturday, the\neighteenth. We all deplored and denounced that unjustifiable attempt      128\nat the national sovereignty which suddenly drew on us the danger of\nPrussian occupation of the city and the horrors of civil war--perhaps\nboth of these scourges. Our indignation was profound. One blamed the\ngovernment for having too readily abandoned Paris to the danger of\ninsurrection; another maintained that by establishing itself at\nVersailles with the national assembly, and defending the environs of\nParis, it saved France. Another declaimed with bitterness, sometimes\nagainst the culpable indifference of the national guards, which left\neverything to be done, and sometimes against the audacity and\nwickedness of the leaders of the mob that, without any pretext, was\ndragging France, all bleeding from the wounds incurred in war, into a\nbottomless abyss. We all felt there was something beneath all this: it\nwas the shameful defection of a part of the troops of the line which\nhad rendered such cruel misfortunes possible. If the army were to\ncountenance the insurrection, that would decide the fate of\nFrance--_Galli\u00e6 finis!_\n\nIt was easier to deplore the gravity of the evil than to point out a\npractical means of remedying it. There was great diversity of opinion\nrespecting the latter. Should recourse be had to material force or to\na spirit of persuasion and conciliation? The use of material force\nmight inflame the rebellious party still more, and cover Paris with\nblood and ruins. The success of moral influence was hardly possible\nwith insurgents who began by assassinating Generals Lecomte and\nCl\u00e9ment Thomas, and deliberately advocated a social revolution.\n\nAt three o\u2019clock, a well-known inhabitant of the Place Vend\u00f4me, who\nhad already distinguished himself by his courage in the insurrection\nof June, 1848, in which he was one of the first wounded, came to\nannounce to me the formal intention of the national guards of his\nbattalion to retake the place from the insurgents come from the\nfaubourgs. He thought that by a bold stroke they might effect their\nobject without a shot. It is sure that the friends of order wished by\nall means to avoid the shedding of blood. Some moments after, one of\nmy friends, who bears one of the great political names of France, and\nis destined to render his country eminent service, after the example\nof his family, because he is at once a man of superior intelligence\nand disinterestedness, very liberal and very religious, announced to\nme that the national guards of his arrondissement were animated with\nthe best intentions, and comprehended the urgent necessity of\nmaintaining order in the midst of the inextricable chaos into which we\nhad fallen. He was himself a powerful example of the resolution and\nself-sacrifice inspired by an enlightened and generous patriotism. A\nretired officer from the time of his marriage, he had organized, at\nthe beginning of the war, the national guards of that section of the\ncountry in which his estate was. Later, when the army of General\nChanzy made his evolution from the Loire toward the Sarthe, he resumed\nhis military life, and took an active part as captain of the staff in\nthe operations and struggles of the army of the west. The very day he\nreturned to civil life, he took the cars to spend some days at Paris,\nwhere several members of his family awaited him. He arrived there on\nthe eve of the eighteenth of March. Instead of returning to the\ncountry, like so many other Parisians, he enrolled his name the\nfollowing day as a simple member of the national guards, resolved to\nrecede before no danger or fatigue, and to serve the cause of order at    129\nParis as he had been serving the cause of the national honor in his\nprovince. We should not despair of the future prosperity of a country\nin which there is still a great number of examples of similar\ndevotedness. He did not think of returning to the country till the day\nafter the mayors and deputies of Paris, doubtless unwittingly serving\nthe interests of demagogism much more than the demagogues themselves,\nthought they were making a conciliatory move by yielding to their\nwishes, inviting the Parisian electors to illegal elections,\ndisbanding the battalions of the national guard, wholly devoted to the\ncause of order, and thus destroying the sole material and moral\nsupport that still remained to the better portion of Paris. These\nmayors and deputies, whose imprudence and want of foresight no human\ntongue could express, declared they had saved everything, and they had\nlost everything. They ascended to the Capitol as in triumph, and they\nhad led us to the Tarpeian Rock. They pretended to avoid the shedding\nof blood, and chose the surest means of shedding it in torrents. My\nfriend agreed with me that next to the hideous stand of the battalions\nof the line that had entered into a pact with the mob, nothing could\nbe more disastrous than the inexplicable compromise entered into by\nthese mayors and deputies. There was not a day on which I did not\napply to them the dilemma that I formerly applied to the government of\nthe emperor in the _gu\u00eat-\u00e0-pens_ of Castelfidardo: \u201cEither dupes or\naccomplices.\u201d[41]\n\nAt five o\u2019clock, an old deputy who had been brutally excluded from the\nlegislative body in the favorable time of official candidature,\nbecause he would not renounce his opinions of freedom and control,\ngave me some interesting details respecting the pacific manifestations\nthat had just met with an unhoped-for success. A great number of\ncitizens, of all ages and of every rank, had traversed the principal\nquarters unarmed, crying, \u201c_Vive l\u2019Ordre! Vive la France! Vive\nl\u2019Assembl\u00e9e Nationale!_\u201d They everywhere meet with cordial sympathy.\nThe battalion that guarded the Bourse presented arms as they passed.\nThe battalions of the faubourgs, that held the Place Vend\u00f4me,\nendeavored in vain to prevent their passing, and the person who from\nthe balcony of the staff wished to address them in order to justify\nthe insurrectionary movement, was interrupted by enthusiastic\nacclamations in favor of order and the national assembly.\n\nThe central committee at the H\u00f4tel de Ville understood so well the\nbearing of this manifestation that they hastened to take energetic\nmeasures to remain masters of the Place Vend\u00f4me, and not to allow in\nit any new manifestations from the friends of order. They sent thither\nseveral battalions. Travel was forbidden there and in the neighboring\nstreets; the approaches were rigorously guarded: four pieces of\ncannon, with cannoneers ready to fire, were set up in the Rue de la\nPaix and the Rue Castiglione.\n\nAt nine o\u2019clock, the wife of one of the employees of the minister of      130\njustice came to beg me to carry to her brother the final consolations\nof religion. I had seen him some days previous, and his end seemed\nnear. It was with the greatest difficulty she had left the Minist\u00e8re\nand the Place Vend\u00f4me, and she feared it would be impossible for me to\nreturn with her. But, unwilling her brother should die without the\nsacraments of the church, she succeeded by her prayers and tears in\nreaching me, and was willing to brave everything again in order to\nenable me to go to him.\n\nI assured her I would unite my efforts to hers, and, though conscious\nthat the ecclesiastical costume had, since the downfall of the empire,\nbeen disagreeable to the Parisian revolutionists, I added that we\nshould succeed. I set out that very instant with one of the employees\nof the church.\n\nThe Place and the Boulevard de la Madeleine were quiet and nearly\ndeserted. The Rue Neuve-des-Capucines was livelier. At the entrance of\nthe Place Vend\u00f4me, I found myself in presence of the national guards,\nwho did not much resemble those belonging to that quarter. They were\nvery numerous. Their language was in the main rather noisy than\nthreatening. The words \u201ccitizen\u201d and \u201crepublic\u201d were constantly on\ntheir lips. They allowed no one to stop, and showed themselves\nseverely rigid towards the passers-by that wished to contemplate a\nspectacle so new in this pacific and wealthy quarter.\n\nI had not yet arrived at the angle of the Rue Neuve-des-Capucines and\nthe Place Vend\u00f4me, when an outpost of the national guards, arms in\nhand, cried to me in somewhat rough tone: \u201cCitizen, no one is allowed\nto stop!\u201d It was the very place and the time to stop to accomplish my\nholy mission. I explained briefly, but politely, the motive that led\nme to the Place Vend\u00f4me: it was a question of giving a dying person\nthe last succor of religion; and, to leave no doubt of the truth of my\nstatement, I pointed out the lady, bathed in tears, at my side, and\nthe employee of the Madeleine. \u201cIt is impossible, citizen,\u201d was\nuttered on all sides, \u201cthe _consigne_ has forbidden it.\u201d I asked\nto see one of the officers, for I saw plainly I should be obliged to\nparley, but, in view of a duty so grave and urgent, I resolved to use\nevery means. A sergeant presented himself with that important and\nsomewhat ridiculous air which carries the conviction among the lower\nranks that public affairs could not be sustained without him. I\nexplained my wish. \u201cYou cannot pass.\u201d I mildly insisted. \u201cThe\n_consigne_ has forbidden it, and to-day he is very rigorous.\u201d I\nasked the reason of this exceptional severity. \u201cIt is, you see,\ncitizen, because the bourgeoisie of this quarter have been making a\nracket to-day, and this must not be repeated.\u201d\n\nThis observation, one of the most characteristic I ever heard in my\nlife, was made with a seriousness which would have dispelled mine at\nanother time less distressing to my heart as a priest and a Frenchman.\n\nConvinced that nothing was to be effected with this sergeant, who was\nmore self-sufficient than wicked, I asked to see the captain. He came\nto me with a dry and lofty air that the mildness of my language and\ndoubtless the sad motive also that led me to the Place Vend\u00f4me\nspeedily modified. After refusing me, and listening to renewed\nentreaties, he gave me permission to enter the Place Vend\u00f4me, on\ncondition that I should remain all night. That was the extent of the\nright allowed him by the _consigne_. Tired of constantly hearing of a     131\n_consigne_ who, according to the graphic avowal of the sergeant, was\nonly influenced by his dissatisfaction at the racket that the\nbourgeoisie of the quarter had been making that day, I replied that I\ncould not accept the condition, that I was very sorry not to be able\nto understand a refusal which affected a dying person and a family in\naffliction, and that I would leave the public to judge this fact,\nsince there was no other authority to appeal to.\n\nThese words, uttered with an emotion but little restrained, changed\nthe mind of the captain, who vainly sought plausible pretexts to\noppose me. He appeared, besides, to be greatly preoccupied with the\ncommand he exercised: others were constantly coming to him for orders,\nand it was evident from his embarrassed manner that he had been more\naccustomed to receive than to give orders. He ordered one of the\nnational guards to accompany me to the house of the minister of\njustice, not to lose sight of me for an instant, and to bring me back\nto the entrance of the Rue Neuve-des-Capucines. Notwithstanding the\npacific character of my costume, I was treated like one of the\nsuspicious bourgeoisie of the quarter, who could not be pardoned for\nhaving made a racket during the day. The insurgents had strengthened\ntheir position in the Place Vend\u00f4me, to prevent henceforth the\nmanifestations of honest people. They appeared resolved to allow it to\nbe entered only with extreme circumspection, and by persons who\nresided here.\n\nI proceeded, accompanied by my national guardsman, who was armed.\n\nThe Place was poorly lighted. We had scarcely left behind us the group\nof national guards that barricaded the entrance, than he addressed me\nthese words in a confused but very respectful tone: \u201cHow sad all this\nis, monsieur l\u2019abb\u00e9, and how wrong not to arrange everything so every\none can remain at home and quietly attend to his business!\u201d I\nevidently had with me one of the too numerous workmen of Paris who\nlove order and peace, but who dare not, or who do not know how to,\nresist the bold ringleaders who take them from their work and lead\nthem astray. The fear of not speaking with sufficient calmness and\ncaution, while I was at once afflicted and exasperated, induced me to\nbe reserved. I merely replied that I shared his sentiments, and that\nvery probably reason would prevail in the end.\n\nEvery moment we met armed groups. As far as I could judge, from rapid\nglances over the Place, some were discussing with vivacity the events\nof the day: others, like mercenaries, without dignity and without\nconscience, appeared to have no other care than to smoke and drink.\nThe insurgents I met did not conceal the suprise that the presence of\na priest in their midst during the night caused them. Those who\nthought I had been arrested, and was on my way to the post of the\n_\u00e9tat-major_, where I had seen more than one spy or Prussian led\nduring the siege, did not deprive themselves of the pleasure of aiming\na joke or an insult at me. Those who thought I was going to fulfil the\nduties of the holy ministry saluted me with respect. They were far\nfrom resembling in their equipments and deportment the national guards\nof the quarter of St. Roch or the Madeleine, but when I compared them\nwith those I found the next day in the same place, after the criminal\nand bloody fusillade upon citizens only guilty of calmly expressing\ntheir love of order and their devotedness to the national assembly,\nthey were comparatively disciplined and civilized.                        132\n\nThe ante-room of the minister of justice\u2019s residence was guarded by\ninsurgents, who allowed no one to enter or go out without particular\nscrutiny. I quickly made known to the leader the object of my mission.\nHe listened to me with evident curiosity and self-sufficiency, and,\nafter affecting to consider, he motioned me to proceed. The court was\noccupied by another post that watched the entrance to the offices and\nh\u00f4tel of the minister, and the avenue that led through the gardens to\nthe Rue de Luxembourg. No light was to be seen in the apartments. A\nprofound silence reigned everywhere. No other employee remained at the\nminister\u2019s than the brother-in-law of the young man to whom I was\ncarrying the last consolations of religion. He received them with more\ncalmness and serenity than might have been expected, humanly speaking,\nof a young man of twenty-two years of age, when one looks forward to a\nlong life; but what a double grief for a family to find themselves at\nonce in the presence of death and a band of insurgents!\n\nA quarter of an hour after, I left the _minist\u00e8re_ with my national\nguard, who treated me with a respect more and more deferential. The\nlady who had gone to the Rue de la Ville-l\u2019Ev\u00eaque to find me was also\nstruck with his excellent appearance, and commissioned me to give him\na small sum of money. I begged him, as delicately as possible, to\naccept it in aid of his family, who might be in need for want of\nemployment. He seemed very much touched by this generous attention,\nand, as much to satisfy my curiosity as to prevent the difficulty of\nexpressing his gratitude at a time when he was officially charged with\nguarding me, I concluded to address him some questions.\n\n\u201cFrom what quarter of Paris are you?\u201d\n\n\u201cI am from Bercy, monsieur l\u2019abb\u00e9. They sounded the rappel this\nevening. I set out with my company. They told us we were appointed to\na very important patriotic mission. Arrived at the Place Vend\u00f4me, we\nwere ordered to guard it rigorously.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut why so rigorous a guard in a quarter where there are only very\nexcellent people, who love order and peace above all things?\u201d\n\n\u201cMa foi, monsieur l\u2019abb\u00e9, I know nothing at all about it. Bercy is\nperfectly quiet. This quarter is no less so. I do not understand it.\nThey ordered us to come, and we had to obey.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut did you not at Bercy have confidence in M. Thiers as well as we?\nDo you prefer Assi, Flourens, Blanqui, and Felix Pyat to him?\u201d\n\n\u201cOur employers have always spoken very highly of him. The good workmen\ncall him a great patriot, and not a mere pretender like so many\nothers. He promised us liberty and work, and would certainly have kept\nhis word. So we have committed a great piece of foolishness in\nallowing him to go to Versailles. God grant it may not be for a long\ntime!\u201d\n\n\u201cBut what becomes of your work all this time? Do you think this state\nof thing favorable to the interests of the workman?\u201d\n\n\u201cAh, monsieur l\u2019abb\u00e9, work is a thing but little thought of now, and\nyet the longer we delay resuming it, the more unfortunate we are.\nThere are among us so many sluggards and madcaps!...\u201d\n\nMy excellent guard was explaining to me in his own way how the bad\nworkmen, who wished in 1848 to obtain the right to labor, had, since\nthe siege of Paris, wished to retain the right of doing nothing, when     133\nI found myself at the spot whence we had set out. Immediately resuming\nhis most official and patronizing air--\u201cCitizen,\u201d said he to the\npatrol that guarded the entrance to the Place Vend\u00f4me, \u201clet this\ncitizen pass!\u201d\n\nI had promised the family of the poor sick man to visit him again in\ntwo or three days. Complicated as the situation of Paris was, and in\nparticular that of the Place Vend\u00f4me, treated and occupied as a place\ntaken by storm, in defiance of all right and all decency, by the\nnational guards of the faubourgs in revolt against the laws, I was far\nfrom anticipating that I should hasten the next day to the same place\nin the midst of all the horrors of civil war, to carry the\nconsolations of religion to the honorable inhabitants of Paris,\nsmitten down without any provocation, without any motive, by the\nbullets of their fellow-citizens.\n\n\n                                 II.\n\n     THE PLACE VEND\u00d4ME ON WEDNESDAY, THE TWENTY-SECOND OF MARCH.\n\nThe next day, the twenty-second of March--henceforth one of the\nsaddest dates in the history of Paris--I was on duty at the church of\nthe Madeleine--that is to say, appointed to receive, from six o\u2019clock\nin the morning till ten at night, those persons who sought the\nreligious or charitable ministry of the priest, and to afford them all\nthe satisfaction within the limits of possibility.\n\nAs the pacific manifestations on the eve had produced a favorable\nmoral effect, it was proposed to renew them during the day, as I\nlearned from some of my friends, known to be devoted to the cause of\nliberty and order, so strangely compromised. The aim they had in view\nand the means to which they had recourse were not only incontestably\nlegal, but also in conformity with the interests and dignity of all\nthe inhabitants of Paris. Therefore, far from concealing them, they\nopenly discussed them, hoping they would be understood and appreciated\nas they deserved to be. They desired to promote, by means of\npersuasion and conciliation, respect for order and the laws,\ndisregarded by the bold ringleaders and a part of the national guards\nled astray. In the midst of ruins accumulated by an unfortunate war,\nthey wished to declare the assembly of the representatives of the\ncountry in session at Versailles to be the sole power charged to watch\nover our destinies, that we should rally around them and await their\nsolution of the inextricable difficulties of the moment. The\ninhabitants of the Place Vend\u00f4me and the neighboring streets, wounded,\nand not without reason, at seeing their quarter invaded and occupied\nby the national guards from other quarters, who prevented travel,\nterrified their families, and paralyzed all commercial transactions,\nproposed to claim their rights, as inhabitants of the first\narrondissement, to become the police of their own quarter. They\nviolated no right, they were not lacking any propriety, in begging the\ncitizens of the arrondissements of Montmartre and Belleville, who were\ninstalled there without any notice, to leave it to their own care. Not\nonly are those who live in the Place Vend\u00f4me Parisians as well as the\ninhabitants of Belleville and Montmartre, but it was evident to those\nwho knew Paris that four-fifths of the national guards that held\npossession of the Place Vend\u00f4me on the twenty-first, and especially on\nthe twenty-second of March, had never seen Paris three years              134\npreviously. Paris is rather the theatre than the author of the\nrevolutions that take place there.\n\nRevolutionists and rioters belong to all parts of France and Europe,\nand in disastrous times they hasten to Paris, hoping to catch fish in\nthe troubled waters.\n\nI have studied all the large cities of Europe from a political and\nsocial point of view. For reasons too extended to be enumerated here,\nnot one is like Paris, the rendezvous of all suspicious and corrupt\ncharacters--of the unfortunate who are at variance with the laws of\ntheir own country, and of men of no class who are ready to become\nrevolutionary agents--and these are the worst of all. After the siege\nit had endured, the state of agitation and prostration resulting from\nso great a struggle, so much suffering, and so many deceptions, could\nnot fail to attract the leading charlatans and rogues of all parts of\nEurope. It is not to the honor of the popular class at Paris, the most\nfrivolous and the most credulous in the world, that these new-comers\nmet with a success beyond their expectations, for they became in a\nmoment our masters. Thanks to this cosmopolitan invasion, and also to\nthe departure of too large a number of genuine Parisians who feared\nthe Prussian bombardment less than the mob of international agents,\nParis, the brilliant centre of elegance, art, and of intellect, as\nwell as a financial and political centre, became, according to the\nexpressive comparison of the _Times_, an infernal caldron, which\nterrified all Europe, and in which mingled and seethed all human\npassions.\n\nThe party that was playing its part at Paris was not Parisian or\nFrench, but exclusively social. It was a flock of birds of prey, a\nherd of roaming wild beasts, who had hastened from the four cardinal\npoints to fall on the capital of France, which a five months\u2019 siege\nhad weakened. The International agents wished to found the Commune,\nand, to realize the idea of the Commune, which especially clings to\nlocality, home, the fireside, the steeple, the associations and\ntraditions of domestic interest, they summoned to Paris all their boon\ncompanions of the Old and the New World, and forced the real\ninhabitants of Paris to take refuge in the provinces or abroad. It was\na revolting cynicism, pregnant with disaster.\n\nAt half-past two, some persons, filled with terror and indignation,\nentered the Madeleine to inform me of a sinister catastrophe. The\nagents of the pacific manifestation, who had proposed on the eve to\ntraverse the principal streets of the city, crying, _Vive la\nR\u00e9publique! Vive l\u2019Ordre! Vive l\u2019Assembl\u00e9e Nationale!_ had become the\nvictims of a horrible ambuscade. After passing through the Rue de la\nPaix, a large number of respected citizens of Paris, unarmed, and\ninfluenced only by the patriotic desire of securing, by the most\ninoffensive means and for the benefit of all good citizens, the\ntriumph of equity, law, and a spirit of conciliation, had been met at\nthe entrance of the Place Vend\u00f4me by a murderous fusillade from the\ninsurgent national guards. The reports of the number of the killed and\nwounded varied, but it must have been considerable.\n\nAt the same time, I saw from the outer colonnade of the Madeleine the\nshops hastily shut up and people fleeing in disorder from the\ndirection of the Place Vend\u00f4me. Every face expressed wrath and\nconsternation. Some national guards of the eighth arrondissement\nhastened to rally around the church to watch over the public security.\n\nI made inquiries about the condition of the wounded, and was told         135\nthey were being carried home, and that several belonged to the parish\nof the Madeleine, which includes the Rue de la Paix and the Place\nVend\u00f4me. As I did not know the address of the victims, and knew from\nan experience of ten years that the members of the parish had the\nChristian habit of summoning the priest to the aid of the dying, I\nwaited with emotion for them to have recourse to my ministry.\n\nAt four o\u2019clock no one had come, and I was ignorant of the name and\naddress of any of the wounded. At half-past four there was a report\nthat some of the killed and wounded remained on the Place Vend\u00f4me, and\nthat there were detained there some of those engaged in the pacific\nmanifestation, among others, the father of a young man from the Rue\nTronchet, whose skull had been fractured by a ball, and whom the\ninsurgents refused to deliver up. Other details were added of such a\nrevolting character that I could scarcely credit them. I ordered the\nMadeleine to be closed--took with me all that was necessary for the\nadministration of the sacraments, and went by way of the boulevards\ntowards the Place Vend\u00f4me, resolved, as on the preceding night, to\nrecede before no obstacle to my reaching the victims who might need\nreligious aid. The Boulevard de la Madeleine, generally so lively and\nbrilliant, was almost deserted. The inhabitants were inquiring in a\nlow tone, and in terror, about the incidents of the bloody drama that\nhad just taken place in the neighborhood. Some soldiers only, who had\njoined the insurgents four days previously, were passing along with a\ncareless and almost satisfied air. If these unhappy men were aware of\nthe frightful event that then preoccupied all Paris, they only\nretained a glimmering of moral sense. Already unworthy to bear the\nname of a soldier, they would no longer merit to bear that of man.\n\nAt the entrance of the Rue Neuve-des-Capucines, which leads from the\nBoulevard de la Madeleine to the Place Vend\u00f4me, I was stopped by a\ngroup of people, who from a distance were regarding with mingled\nsentiments of curiosity and terror the patrols of the mob scattered\nalong the street. \u201cDo not go any further, monsieur l\u2019abb\u00e9,\u201d cried\nseveral persons to me in trembling voices, more charitable than brave.\n\u201cIf you go among those wretches, you are lost! We have seen them fire\nupon inoffensive men who were bearing away the wounded at the entrance\nof the Rue de la Paix.\u201d I made no reply to what was dictated more by\nfear than reason, and came to the first patrol stationed before the\nCr\u00e9dit Foncier. All the houses of the Rue Neuve-des-Capucines were\nclosed, and this street, one of the liveliest of the quarter, seemed\nlike a tomb. The head patrol, a jolly young fellow, with a face as red\nas blood, advanced towards me, and, solemnly raising his sabre to\nattest his authority, which I had no intention of disputing, ordered\nme to stop. I explained to him, without concealing my sadness, the\nobject of my mission: \u201cI am going as a priest belonging to the parish\nof the Madeleine to see the wounded on the Place Vend\u00f4me.\u201d He\nimmediately motioned with his sabre for me to pass; this was his only\nreply. Was he aware of the effect of this sinister beginning of civil\nwar upon the condition of Paris? I doubt it--to parade and appear\nimportant seemed to be his principal care. The other national guards,\nvigilant and with their hands on their loaded arms, resembled\nsentinels in face of the enemy, without their discipline and proper\ncarriage.\n\nThe second patrol, stationed in the middle of the street, allowed me      136\nto pass without objection. It was composed, like the first, of\nnational guards of all ages, but not of all conditions: they were from\nthe most uncivilized class of the faubourgs. Their accoutrements were\nnot uniform or neat. Some appeared quite satisfied; they were the\nyoungest; others had a less blustering manner; but all felt an\ninstinctive joy to rule over the most brilliant part of Paris, and\ninspire the citizens with a lively terror.\n\nBefore I came to the third patrol, placed at the opposite end of the\nstreet, I noticed on the pavement many stains of blood. It was in fact\nonly a few steps distant that, only a short time before, the victims\nof the fusillade fell. I will not attempt to describe the anguish that\nfilled my soul at the sight of this blood of my countrymen, shed by\ninsurgents without country and without God. In the midst of my great\ndistress I recalled the sublime cry of Monseigneur Affre: \u201cLet my\nblood be the last shed!\u201d I ardently prayed in my turn that the blood\nof these innocent and peaceful victims might be the last poured out,\nbut it was to be feared that the revolutionary and social crisis, that\nweighed on Paris like a horrible nightmare, would only end, as it had\ncommenced, by a terrible effusion of blood.\n\nThere was no difference between this patrol and the preceding, except\nthat it was more actively vigilant. The chief of the national guards\nthat formed it, and who seemed surprised to behold me, having asked\nwhere I was going, and what I was going to do, sent two men to conduct\nme to the post that guarded the entrance to the Place Vend\u00f4me. During\nthe siege of Paris, I one day passed along the formidable defences of\nthe Point-du-Jour at Auteuil. The consigne there was of a different\ndegree of mildness and condescension from that at the entrance of the\nPlace Vend\u00f4me, which the insurgents evidently wished to make their\nheadquarters, and where they were entrenching themselves. The national\nguards that defended the entrance were less blustering, but more\nnumerous and more decided, than those of the evening before. They\nallowed me to pass without hindrance; many of them must have felt that\nwhere the dead and dying are to be found is the proper place for a\nminister of Jesus Christ. A sentinel was ordered to accompany me to\nthe Minist\u00e8re de la Justice, where I intended to go first. He\npossessed neither the intelligence nor the politeness of the national\nguard that escorted me the night before. He was rather an animated\nmachine than a man. Not a word, not a gesture, not a change in his\nfeatures! After wondering what he was thinking of, I ended by doubting\nif he thought at all. I should render him this justice--that, from a\nmaterial point of view, he discharged his commission with\nirreproachable exactitude.\n\nI experienced an undefinable impression in the Place Vend\u00f4me, produced\nby a twofold contrast, the remembrance of which will not be effaced to\nthe latest moment of my life.\n\nThis Place, with which Louis XIV. adorned Paris, was first called the\nPlace des Conqu\u00eates, to recall the brilliant victories which had\nsecured to France the fine provinces which we have just lost a large\npart of, after most lamentable reverses. The sumptuous edifices, built\naccording to Mansard\u2019s plans, which form the contour, render it in an\narchitectural point of view the finest Place in Europe. Destined by\nLouis XIV. to bring together the royal library and imprimerie, the\nacademies, the mint, and the h\u00f4tel of foreign ambassadors; now            137\ninhabited by wealthy families, rich travellers, and some of the\ngovernment officials; situated between the garden of the Tuileries and\nthe Boulevards des Capucines and des Italiens; entered at its two\nextremities by the Rues de Castiglione and de la Paix, through which\npour wealthy merchants and elegant promenaders, it became on the\ntwenty-second of March the theatre of uproar and civil war: it was\ncovered with blood, and occupied by an armed crowd, in which prevailed\nthe most sinister faces from the worst quarters of Paris.\n\nThe national guards of Bercy that I had seen the night before were\nmodels of civilization and distinction compared with these. Some were\nrather boys than men. They appeared to be only sixteen or seventeen\nyears of age. As proud as they were surprised to carry a gun, they\nonly sought for an opportunity or a pretext to use it. Those who have\nwitnessed the revolutions of Paris know that armed children are\ncapable of atrocious misdeeds. Sprung from the lowest grades of\nsociety, destitute of all moral sense, they care but little what cause\nthey have to defend or what enemy to attack: their highest ambition is\nto display their audacity and to fire off their guns. As I am only\nrelating the things I witnessed myself, I shall not speak of the\nfiendish part taken, according to some spectators, by a boy in the\nfusillade which had just shot down too great a number of pacific and\nhonorable citizens. Many of the insurgents were in a state of\noverexcitement, proceeding less from their political and social\nopinions than from a too copious absorption of wine and other liquors:\nthis is on days of revolutionary storms another category of insurgents\ncapable of everything because they have lost all moral sense. There\nwas but little care and uniformity about their accoutrements. Some had\non only a part of the uniform of the national guards: others wore a\nk\u00e9pi and a blouse. A great number of the k\u00e9pis were not numbered. Here\nand there were to be seen some red sashes.\n\nIn this nameless multitude might also be remarked men of fifty or\nsixty years, whose ferocious and degraded faces excited the worst\nsuspicions respecting their moral instincts and their previous\nrelations with the legal authorities. I at once saw that many of them\nwere foreigners, particularly Italians and Poles. What a contrast\nbetween such insurgents, hardly to be found in June, 1848, in the\nlowest parts of Paris, and the imposing architectural splendor of one\nof the finest squares in the world! I could not express the effect of\nthis mingling of poetic beauty and foul deformity upon me.\n\nAnother contrast no less sad rent my heart. The side of the Place\nVend\u00f4me toward the Rue de la Paix was sprinkled with blood; now and\nthen the wounded and dead were carried by; and over these spots of\nhuman blood, by the side of these unfortunate victims of civil war, a\ngreat number of insurgents, perhaps the very ones who without any\nmotive or provocation had shot them down, were laughing, eating,\ndrinking, and amusing themselves, as if they were celebrating the\nhappiest event of their lives.\n\nIn going to the Minist\u00e8re de la Justice, I had to pass through several\ngroups of varied physiognomy. They were generally astonished to see\nthe ecclesiastical garb among them. I acknowledge that, if I had not\nhad a mission of sacerdotal obligation to accomplish, I should hardly\nhave procured them this surprise, notwithstanding my natural love of      138\nobservation. Some--a small number, however--received me with coarse\ninsults and horrid laughter. A few steps from the Minist\u00e8re de la\nJustice, a national guardsman, who was talking and gesticulating with\nuncommon vivacity, stopped to address me, while shaking his fist at\nme, this singular apostrophe: \u201cWhen shall we be delivered from those\nwretches?\u201d I will not relate other pleasantries of this nature of\nwhich I was the butt: this one is only too much. Their authors had\ndoubtless learned to know and judge the clergy by the violent\ndiatribes of citizens Blanqui and F\u00e9lix Pyat.\n\nOthers, on the contrary, saluted me with a respect and cordiality\nwhich I was careful to return politely. They were honest workmen who\nhad doubtless had intercourse with their parish priests, or whose\nchildren attended the catechism classes or the schools of the\nreligious congregations, and received a benefit which they understood\nhow to appreciate. There were strange contrasts in this mixture. Not\nto forget a single characteristic detail, I caught some observations\nthat denoted on the part of their authors serious regrets for the\ndreadful catastrophe which terrified the whole city.\n\nIf, among the insurgent battalions chosen to fire on the inoffensive\ninhabitants of Paris, there were some to deplore the horrors of civil\nwar, how many might not have been found in the other battalions! If\nthe ringleaders could be separated from those whom they lead, and the\ndeceivers from the deceived, the number of the latter would be\nconsiderable, and the former somewhat modified. One of the most\nserious faults of the workman of Paris is the incredible facility with\nwhich he enters into all the hollow schemes of the rogue and the\ncharlatan who tempt him, and sacrifices to their mad ambition and\nculpable projects his peace, his property, his honor, and his life.\n\nMy guide, or rather my guard, appeared insensible to the insults as\nwell as to the salutations I received on the way. Arms in hand, always\nimpassible and solemn, it was only now and then he cast toward me an\ninquisitorial glance, as if to assert his authority and my dependence.\n\nI made known the object of my mission to the leader of the post at the\nMinist\u00e8re de la Justice. He was a young and well-bred officer. He\nlistened to me with attention, and replied, after saluting me twice\nwith a politeness full of respect, that I was at liberty to do all I\nwished.\n\nI found the sick person I had seen the evening before in the h\u00f4tel of\nthe minister of justice, exhausted by excitement that was hastening\nhis end. He could see from his sick-bed all that occurred on the\nPlace. In one corner of the apartment his sister, endowed with the\nhigher Christian virtues, and an aged lady whom I did not know, but\nwho was probably their mother, were weeping over the public as well as\ntheir own private woes. I had promised the sick person the night\nbefore to visit him again in three or four days, but as I could not\nenter the Place Vend\u00f4me without indicating the precise place I wished\nto go to, and could not have a better means of ascertaining where the\nvictims of the fusillade had been transported, I briefly explained the\nreason of my unexpected call and gave him some religious\nencouragement, which was to be the last. I learned that the dead and\nwounded removed from the Place had been carried to one of the\nneighboring houses occupied by the administration and the ambulance       139\nof the Cr\u00e9dit Mobilier. I hurried thither.\n\nThe Minist\u00e8re de la Justice was as silent and deserted as on the\npreceding night. Four sentinels were posted between the court and\ngarden; a fifth at the door of the h\u00f4tel had the air of guarding most\nconscientiously an absent excellency.\n\nIn going out, I sought with a discreet glance for my solemn guard, to\nbecome anew his prisoner. The officer who had received me a few\nmoments before informed me he had sent him back to his post. From that\nmoment I could go where I pleased.\n\nAt the Cr\u00e9dit Mobilier I met two bodies that were being carried to\ntheir relatives. I was told that one was M. Molinet, one of the most\npious and exemplary young men of the parish. He had been shot down by\nthe side of his father, who, notwithstanding his inexpressible grief,\nhad been torn from the body of his only son and carried as a prisoner\nto the staff-officer of the Place. After offering up a prayer for\nthese two unfortunate victims, I inquired for the apartment to which\nthe wounded had been carried.\n\nThe consternation and terror that reigned among the inhabitants of the\nPlace Vend\u00f4me may be imagined from the sinister events that had\noccurred before their eyes, and the dangers of all kinds with which\nthey were threatened. Stupor was depicted on the faces of the\nconcierges of the Cr\u00e9dit Mobilier. These good people were hardly\nwilling to half-open the door of their lodge, and muttered something\nvague which was not an answer to my question. At last they sent with\nme to the _salle_ of the wounded a charming child of eight or ten\nyears of age. He examined with more curiosity than fear the strange\nfeatures of the citizens of Montmartre and Belleville who occupied the\nvestibule.\n\nThe number of the wounded in the ambulance was six. They were still on\nthe litter on which they had been brought. Two infirmarians, who wore\nthe red cross of the International society, were zealously attending\nto them: a _cantini\u00e8re_ of somewhat free manners also manifested\nan equal desire to aid them. The insurgents that frequented the rooms\nbehaved with propriety; they spoke in low tones, and instead of the\ncare which they were not fitted to bestow, the most of them manifested\na sympathy mingled with curiosity. Beyond this, their faces displayed\nno emotion; my presence did not astonish them; they discreetly retired\nwhen I approached the sufferers. No one appeared to me mortally\nwounded. Nevertheless, I administered religious aid to one of them at\nhis own request, and confined myself to giving the rest as much\nencouragement as possible, for which they earnestly thanked me. They\nall belonged to the bourgeoisie. The last to arrive lived in the Rue\nMeyerbeer, and did not appear to be more than thirty years old. He\ntold me he was to have set out that very evening to join his wife and\nchildren in the country, but wished before leaving to perform the part\nof a good citizen by joining in the manifestation. He had been wounded\nthree times, but not dangerously.\n\nAt the entrance of the room a young man seized with frightful\nconvulsions had been laid down on the parquet. He was partly dressed\nas a soldier of the line, and partly as a national guardsman. He was\ndoubtless one of the too numerous soldiers who had united with the\ninsurgents, and been drawn into serving their sad cause. The fusillade\nfrom the ranks of his new colleagues, and the numerous victims they\nhad just shot down, must have caused a violent fit of remorse. He         140\nwas not wounded, but only had a sudden nervous attack, that affected\nhim in a manner painful to behold. He did not appear to understand\nanything, and was suffering from contractions and contorsions of a\ntruly frightful character. I approached him--tried to calm him with\nsome kind words, and then recommended him aloud to the care of the two\ninfirmarians of the International society. The national guards who\nsurrounded him appeared touched to see manifested for one of their\nnumber an interest equal to that I had just shown for the victims of\ndevotedness to the cause of law and order.\n\nBefore leaving the Place Vend\u00f4me I wished to ascertain if any of the\nvictims had been taken to the ambulance of M. Constant Say. This was\none of the six ambulances I was appointed to visit during the siege,\nto administer religious aid and awaken the moral sense of the soldiers\nwho were sick or wounded. This ambulance was kept in perfect order.\nMore than once, in observing the meals of the wounded, I envied them\nthe healthful and abundant nourishment served up to them during the\ninterminable months of December and January. They were treated as real\nmembers of the family, and were truly the spoiled children of the\nhouse. They were daily visited by one of the most celebrated\nphysicians of Paris, who lavished on them the most intelligent care,\nand by the minister of Jesus Christ, who no less kindly spoke to them\nof God, their souls, their absent mothers, and of their temporal and\neternal welfare. It could not be otherwise in a family whose extensive\nindustrial establishment and inexhaustible charity are such a benefit\nto the laboring classes of Paris. I had the consolation of seeing all\nthe soldiers who were taken to this ambulance leave it better Christians\nand better Frenchmen.\n\nAs to the rest, during the entire siege, the solicitude of the\nParisians for the sick and wounded soldiers was truly admirable, and\nthe praise I am bound in justice to accord to the ambulance of M.\nConstant Say, may be equally given to the rest I was appointed to\nvisit: the ambulances of M. Frottin, formerly mayor of the first\narrondissement, in the Rue St. Honor\u00e9; that of M. Jourdain, a member\nof the Institute, in the Rue du Luxembourg; of Dr. Moissenet, a\nphysician of the H\u00f4tel Dieu, in the Rue Richepanse; of Madame Dognin,\nof the Point-du-Jour at Auteuil; and, finally, the ambulance bravely\nfounded and directed at Grenelle by some laboring women of ardent\nfaith, and a devotedness that works wonders, and transferred after the\nbombardment of Grenelle to the magnificent h\u00f4tel of M. le Comte Mercy\nd\u2019Argenteau on the Rue de Suresne.\n\nI was also aware that there were still some wounded soldiers in M.\nSay\u2019s ambulance. The brutal invasion of the Place Vend\u00f4me had\nprevented me from visiting them the two days previous. To go there, I\nwas obliged to cross the entire Place. It seemed more like a field of\nbattle than a Place. Here were stacks of arms, there were caissons\nfull of supplies, further on were delegates of the central committee\nof the H\u00f4tel de Ville, who where transmitting orders with feverish\nhaste, and everywhere were the insurgents who had just fired, and who\nwere ready to take fresh aim.\n\nI had no longer an armed guard to accompany me. During my walk, which\nI frankly acknowledge would have seemed much shorter on ordinary\noccasions, I was again an object of insult and sarcasms not highly\nseasoned with wit from some, of respect and sympathy from others, and     141\nof astonishment or indifference from the greatest part. I had never\nseen so great a number of persons eating and drinking. Their appetite\nonly gave out after complete exhaustion of the means of gratifying it.\nIt is true that, to the demoralized workmen who abound in Paris, the\nword riot signifies the time for good eating, and still better\ndrinking, and no work at all.\n\nAgainst the railing that surrounds the column were squatting several\nnational guardsmen, to whom a _cantini\u00e8re_ dealt out liquor. The\noldest was certainly not eighteen. At my approach one of them, who had\ndoubtless been a chorister in some church, instinctively made a\nrespectful bow. A second, who made some pretensions to delicate wit,\npointed at me with his sabre, uttering a laugh more stupid than\nmalicious. A third, and this became more serious, loaded, or pretended\nto load, his musket, which he pointed at me. At the same time the\n_cantini\u00e8re_ encouraged him with atrocious words, that no\ndelicate ear would pardon me for relating. I had had for seven months\nso many occasions to recommend my soul to God, that I thought it\nopportune to do so once more. Nevertheless, not to take things too\nseriously, I recalled the amusing reply made me by an excellent man,\nfrom the neighborhood of St. Sulpice, who was obliged, after the three\nfirst days of bombardment on the left side by the Prussians, to seek\nrefuge in the vicinity of the Madeleine. When I approved of his\nprudent decision, he replied, \u201cIn fact, I could not reasonably pass\nevery night in recommending my soul to God!\u201d\n\nI arrived at my ambulance without any harm but a momentary fright.\nNone of the victims of the fusillade had been brought here. I found\nmy dear wounded ones in a fair way to be healed, but very much\ndepressed by what was passing around them, and humiliated especially\nby the shameful defection of a part of the troops on the deplorable\nday of Saturday, the eighteenth.\n\nMy sacerdotal mission was ended. In returning across the Place\nVend\u00f4me, I was not the witness or the object of any occurrence that\nmerits attention. The dense line of insurgents that guarded the\nentrance of the Place from the Rue de la Paix opened for me to pass.\nThe patrol, who remembered having allowed me to enter, asked no\nquestions in permitting me to go out. I met a man in the Rue\nNeuve-des-Capucines who was covering a real pool of blood with sand.\nThere was no change in the manner of the patrols: the street was still\nlike a tomb. Nearly in front of the Cr\u00e9dit Foncier, a shop-keeper of\nrespectable appearance timidly opened one of the doors of his shop,\nand asked permission to pass from the last patrol toward the\nboulevard, which was not more than fifty yards from me. He appeared so\nalarmed, and his face was so extremely pale, that the patrol, proud of\nthe fear he inspired, did not fail to avail himself of so favorable an\nopportunity of amusing himself at the other\u2019s expense. He questioned\nhim with an affected solemnity which would have excited my laughter in\nless tragical times, addressed him a long and severe recommendation,\nand when the man turned, more dead than alive, toward the boulevard,\nthe youngest of the band, who hid the malicious hilarity of a\n_gamin_ under the gravity of a judge, took his gun, and pointing\nit toward the shop-keeper, who happily was not aware of such a salute,\nhad the air of saying: \u201cIf the rest of the bourgeoisie resemble this      142\none, Paris is certainly ours.\u201d\n\nI was as much saddened at the dejected and disconcerted appearance of\nmost of the inhabitants of this quarter, as I had been alarmed by the\nboldness and audacity displayed on the Place Vend\u00f4me by the workmen of\nthe faubourgs, old criminals and revolutionists from all countries,\nwho held possession of it. There was more stupor than indignation\namong the former. They hardly ventured to the doors of their houses,\nthey spoke in low tones for fear of being compromised. This\nunfortunate attitude of the lovers of order only encouraged the energy\nand boldness of the enemies of society. I comprehended for the first\ntime how a handful of factionists had been able in 1793 to terrify and\ndecimate the better part of the community, who were ten times as\nnumerous. The very day when the lovers of order will say to those of\ndisorder, with the same energy and firmness as God to the waves of the\nsea, \u201cThou shalt go no further!\u201d Paris will have no more to fear from\nanarchy and revolution, and France will no longer oscillate between\nthe equally deplorable extremes of despotism and license.\n\nIf this simple and impartial account, intended to cast a little light\nupon one of the saddest and most execrable episodes of the revolution\nof the eighteenth of March, could also have the effect of calling the\nmore particular attention of the lovers of order and stability, of\nwhatever nation and party, to the dark aims of the International\nleague of demagogues who, under the mask of workingmen\u2019s associations,\nprudential interests, and mutual protection, aim at the denial of God,\nthe destruction of family and country, of public capital and private\nsavings, of the domestic and political hierarchy--in a word, the\ndestruction of all those principles which are the foundation of\nsociety; and also of thoroughly convincing the better classes of Paris\nand all the larger cities of France, that the promoters of disorder\nand anarchy, though now recruiting from the lowest social grades of\nEurope, are only strong in consequence of their own inaction and\nregard for self; that such power is only derived from their own want\nof discipline and energy; that they would only have to enroll,\norganize, and assert themselves to utterly destroy it--I shall have\nrealized one of my most ardent wishes, and labored in my sphere of\naction for the consolidation of the social edifice and of public\norder, so profoundly shaken.\n\nIt was nearly six o\u2019clock when I reached home. I had passed a little\nmore than three-quarters of an hour among the insurgents and the\nwounded of the Place Vend\u00f4me. God alone knows with what emotion and\nearnestness I implored him that I might never be subjected again to\nsuch a trial to my heart as a priest and a Frenchman.\n\nHere ends my first account, drawn up at the end of March. I need not\nadd that my prayer was not granted. The Commune was founded in blood\nand terror, and was to end in a fiendish debauchery of madness and\ncrime.\n\n                          TO BE CONTINUED.\n\n\n     [41] Here is what, according to the _Paris Journal_ of\n     Versailles for the 18th of May, citizen Raoul Rigault wrote\n     from the pr\u00e9fecture of police to citizen Floquet, one of the\n     unhappy instigators of this pretended compromise:\n\n     \u201cMy dear Floquet, you have decided then to set out with\n     Villeneuve and the prefect Lechevalier for Bordeaux. We are\n     too much united in our sentiments for you not to feel the\n     importance of your mission. The league of the republican\n     union, in pleading its own cause, pleads ours. As to your\n     9,500 francs, I will endeavor to furnish them, though it is\n     difficult to procure remittances.\u201d\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n                         NEW PUBLICATIONS.                                143\n\n\n  BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF MOTHER MARGARET MARY HALLAHAN, O.S.D. 1 vol.\n    12mo. New York: The Catholic Publication Society. 1871.\n\nThe great success of the original life of Mother Margaret Mary\nHallahan, foundress of the Third Order of Dominican Nuns in England,\nand the edification it has given to thousands of readers everywhere,\nhave induced her sisters and admirers to prepare an abridged life for\nmore general reading.\n\nThe abridgment is in every respect a creditable performance. In beauty\nof diction, as well as in the subject-matter treated, superior ability\nin biographical style is very discernible. The paper, printing, and\nbinding are also of the first class.\n\nAll who are interested, either from motives of faith or even of\ncuriosity, in the surprising revival of the Catholic religion in\nEngland within the last half-century, will be cheered and delighted by\nthe perusal of this new edition, as it may be called, of the life of\none of the greatest agents in this wonderful work of God. The\ncheapness of the work, moreover, puts it within easy reach of all\nCatholic readers.\n\n\n  SCHOOL-HOUSES. By James Johonnot. Architectural Designs by S. E.\n    Hewes. New York: J. W. Schermerhorn & Co. 1871.\n\nUndoubtedly the subject treated in this work is one of considerable\nimportance, involving, as it does, the health and future prospects as\nwell as the present comfort of the rising generation. No doubt, also,\nthere is immense room for improvement in the internal arrangements of\nthe buildings in which so large a portion of the time of the young,\nand especially of children, is to be passed; above all, as regards the\npoints of light, heating, and ventilation. The construction\nparticularly of country school-houses is also certainly open to change\nfor the better, and many good suggestions are made and designs\nfurnished by the authors. Some of these designs, however, strike us as\nbeing unnecessarily ornate. The latter part is occupied with the\nquestions of furniture, apparatus, grounds, etc., and with many\nillustrations of chairs, desks, globes, and other appliances, which\nwill be found useful and interesting. The book is finely printed, and\nbeautifully bound.\n\n\n  OF ADORATION IN SPIRIT AND TRUTH. Written in four books. By John\n    Eusebius Nieremberg, S.J., native of Madrid, and translated into\n    English by R. S., S.J., with a Preface by the Rev. Peter Gallwey,\n    S.J. London: Burns, Oates & Co. 1871.\n\nThis beautiful volume forms the first of a series of works, under the\ntitle of \u201cSt. Joseph\u2019s Ascetical Library,\u201d undertaken by the Fathers\nof the Society of Jesus in England. It is no novelty in itself, though\nit will probably be new to almost all who see it in its present form.\nThe author was born at Madrid in 1590, and died in 1658; and this\ntranslation of his work was made nearly two hundred years ago, in\n1673, and has that charm of quaintness and simplicity which it is now\nin vain to imitate.\n\nThe title might convey the idea that the treatise before us was a very\nabstract and mystical one, unsuited to the generality of readers. But\nsuch an idea would be soon dispelled by a glance at some of the\nheadings of its chapters, such as, \u201cHow Incommodious a Thing Sleep\nis,\u201d \u201cHow Penances and Corporal Afflictions help Us,\u201d and \u201cThat we\nmust rise Fervorously to our Morning Prayer.\u201d It is practical enough      144\nfor any one, perfectly clear, intelligible, and interesting; and, at\nthe same time, no one can find in it any want of devotion or\nspirituality.\n\nIt is divided into four books, as stated in the title; the first,\nsecond, and fourth treating of the purgative, illuminative, and\nunitive ways respectively; the third being concerned with \u201cWhat\nBelongs to a most Perfect Practical Performance of Our Actions,\u201d which\nillustrates in detail the general principles laid down in what\nprecedes.\n\nWe are under great obligations to the editors for having brought into\nnotice, and into general use, as we trust, this treasure of Catholic\npiety. It will be of inestimable value to all who desire to lead a\nreally spiritual life and to practice the \u201cadoration\u201d of which it\ntreats, which is nothing else than complete self-renunciation and\ndevotion, in the true sense of the word, to God and to his service.\n\n\n  IGNATIUS LOYOLA, AND THE EARLY JESUITS. By Stewart Rose. London:\n    Longmans, Green & Co.\n\nWe have several excellent biographies of St. Ignatius in the English\nlanguage, but the present one is likely, we think, to become the most\npopular. It is carefully compiled, written in that literary style and\nwith those graphic sketches of surrounding circumstances which modern\ntaste demands, and published in an elegant manner. Its principal\ndistinctive excellence consists in the portraiture of the early life\nof Ignatius as the accomplished, valiant, and Christian knight, whose\nnoble and chivalrous character formed the basis of his future heroic\nsanctity. We welcome any work which may make the illustrious founder\nof the Society of Jesus and his Institute better known both to\nCatholics and Protestants, and we hope for a wide circulation for this\nably and charmingly written biography.\n\n\n  MOUNT BENEDICT; OR, THE VIOLATED TOMB. By Peter McCorry. Boston:\n    Patrick Donahoe.\n\nThe burning of the convent in Charlestown, and the accompanying\nhorrors of that fearful night, are subjects worthy of a graphic\ndescription, well calculated to point a moral and adorn a tale. We\nconfess our disappointment in this volume, written, no doubt, with a\ngood design. The conversations are weak and pointless, and too much of\nthe book is occupied with the irrelevant talk of the \u201cconspirators.\u201d\nWe protest against the introduction of oaths into story-books. The\ninterest of the story is marred by these faults.\n\n\nMR. P. DONAHOE, Boston, announces as in press an account of the\n\u201cPassion Play\u201d at Oberammergau, Bavaria, from the pen of the Rev.\nGeorge W. Doane, Chancellor of the Diocese of Newark. It will be\ndedicated to the Rt. Rev. J. R. Bayley, D.D., Bishop of Newark.\n\n\nThe Catholic Publication Society will publish, early in November, _Mary,\nQueen of Scots, and her Latest Historian_, by James F. Meline. This\nbook will contain the articles which appeared in THE CATHOLIC WORLD on\nMr. Froude, as well as a great deal of new matter. In fact, the\narticles as they appeared in THE CATHOLIC WORLD are almost entirely\nrewritten, and many new facts produced. It will be a complete\nrefutation of Mr. Froude\u2019s romance of history.\n\n                      *     *     *     *     *\n\nERRATUM.--In the article on \u201cThe Reformation not Conservative,\u201d\np. 733, 1st column, 16th line from the bottom, for _French_ sovereigns\nread _Frank_ sovereigns. Christendom was founded some centuries before\nthere was a French sovereign or a French kingdom, in the modern sense\nof the word _French_, or France. The Franks were a Germanic race, and\nthe German was their mother-tongue.\n\n\n\n\n                                THE                                       145\n\n                          CATHOLIC WORLD.\n\n                VOL. XIV., No. 80.--NOVEMBER, 1871.\n\n     Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1871, by\n  REV. I. T. HECKER, in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at\n                         Washington, D. C.\n\n\n\n\n                   AUTHORITY IN MATTERS OF FAITH.\n\n\nThe question we propose to discuss in this article is opened in the\nnote we introduce, answering an objection to the infallibility of the\nchurch, made by a lawyer through a third person, and by an elaborate\nnote from the lawyer in reply, and urging another and, in his\njudgment, a still more serious objection. The editor\u2019s note is:\n\n     \u201cThe objection of your friend against the _infallible_ Bible\n     interpreted by a _fallible_ reason, as a sure rule of faith, is\n     unanswerable. Nothing stronger could be said against the\n     Protestant position.\n\n     \u201cHis objection against the church, _so far as it goes_, if I\n     understand it correctly, is also unanswerable. It is quite\n     evident that no agglomeration of fallible men can make an\n     infallible church, either by the personal authority of the\n     individuals or in virtue of their agglomeration. But that is by\n     no means the question with us.\n\n     \u201cWe deny that the church is simply an agglomeration of men; and\n     we deny that the infallibility comes by the authority of its\n     members in any way.\n\n     \u201cAs Christ is a Theanthropical person, so also the church is a\n     Theanthropical society, of which Christ is the head, the Holy\n     Ghost the soul, and the regenerated men the body. The\n     infallibility comes from the Holy Ghost, through Christ, to the\n     body.\n\n     \u201c_If it is so_, it is evident that the infallibility will remain\n     as long as the union shall last. And in that supposition the\n     learned lawyer cannot fail to see that infallibility does not, in\n     any way, come to the body by the authority of its members, but\n     from God, the only authoritative and absolute power in the world,\n     which can bind the minds as well as the wills of men.\n\n     \u201cThat is the Catholic question, and the real position we\n     maintain.\n\n     \u201cIf each man is his own authority, according to the preceding\n     remarks in this book (and that is conceded), then an\n     authoritative church is impossible, because it presents an\n     authority external to me, and then asks me to accept it. I admit\n     that, if there is to be _any_ church, it must be of divine\n     origin. Even were the Bible inspired and infallible, I, being\n     fallible, must interpret it fallibly, and therefore it must be\n     the same _to me_ for all intents and purposes as if it were a\n     fallible book. The same argument applies to the church as a\n     divine, authoritative institution--what is _outside_ of the\n     man--that is, the so-called fact is not an authority for him; but\n     he is the authority for it; if not an absolute authority, at any\n     rate, the only authority possible. The trouble arises from the\n     Baconian philosophy, which has attempted to build up a system on\n     _facts_ so-called--without rejecting the _authority_ for those\n     facts--_as if the authority were in the fact itself_.\u201d\n\nThis speaks for itself, and the position it takes is not controverted.    146\nBut the lawyer says it does not meet the question, that is, we\npresume, the question as it is in his mind, though he had not\npreviously expressed it. He says:\n\n     \u201cThe note given me does not meet the question. It is claimed that\n     the church is infallible because a divine institution--that is,\n     because established by God.\n\n     \u201cNow, admit it to be a divine institution, if it is to be\n     presented for our acceptance, it must be for the acceptance of\n     our fallible reason.\n\n     \u201cFor example, when the missionary carries the church to the\n     heathen, does he not present it for their rational acceptance?\n     And if so, does he not ask their finite judgment to pass upon and\n     accept the infinite and the absolute?\n\n     \u201cNow, the point is this: if the thing or truth presented be\n     infinite and absolute, and the person to whom it is presented be\n     imperfect, fallible, and conditioned, how can the truth--or the\n     church, if you please--appear otherwise to him than according to\n     his finite and partial interpretation of it?\n\n     \u201cThe question in respect to the absolute is, not whether it be\n     _really_ true and absolute or not, but to what extent does the\n     normal affirmation go respecting it. In short, must not the same\n     argument obtain against the church as against the Bible?\n\n     \u201cIt comes to the question of _authority_; and, if all intelligent\n     authority resides in _the person_ (and certainly each one must,\n     from the nature of his constitution, be his own authority), then\n     it follows that no authority whatever can reside in the state,\n     the church, or in any mere institution or being _outside_ of the\n     person, whether that church or institution assume divinity or\n     not.\n\n     \u201cThe authority is not in the _so-called fact_, but in _the\n     person_ to whom the so-called fact is presented, and who is\n     called upon to pass upon it.\n\n     \u201cThe Baconian system is false, because it makes the so-called\n     fact the authority for itself; when plainly the very existence or\n     comprehension of the so-called fact depends wholly on the\n     _person_ to whom it is presented.\u201d\n\nThe objection is, apparently, the objection we ourselves bring to the\nProtestant rule of faith, namely, the Bible interpreted by private\njudgment. The Bible may be the word of God and infallible, but my\ninterpretation of it, or my private judgment in interpreting it, is\nfallible, and therefore I have in it and with it only a fallible rule\nof faith. So the church may be a divine institution, and by the\nassistance of the Holy Ghost infallible; but her teaching is addressed\nto my intelligence, and must be passed upon by my private judgment,\nwhich is finite and fallible, therefore incompetent to pass upon the\ninfinite and absolute. Hence, the Catholic rule no more gives\ninfallible faith than does the Protestant rule. The principle of the\nobjection the lawyer urges is that authority is intrinsic, not\nextrinsic; comes not from without, but from within, from the mind, and\ncan never be greater than the mind itself; and as that is fallible,\nthere is and can be no infallible authority for faith or belief. The\nobjection is simply that an infallible authority for the mind in\nmatters of faith is impossible, because the mind is not itself\ninfallible, and therefore incapable of an infallible act or assent.\nThis, we believe, is the objection in all its force.\n\nThe objection rests on two principles, neither of which is tenable:\nfirst, that the mind or intellect is universally fallible; and,\nsecond, that the authority in matters of faith is in the mind itself,\nnot out of it, and, therefore, belief in anything on extrinsic\nauthority is impossible.\n\n1. The intellect is not universal or infinite, and does not and cannot\nknow all things; but it is never false in what it knows, and in its\nown sphere is infallible; that is, the intellect is not false or\nfallible in what it knows, for every one who knows knows that he\nknows. The judgment is false or fallible only when and where, and so\nfar as knowledge fails. Thus, St. Augustine says,[42] _Omnis qui          147\nfallitur, id quo fallitur, non intelligit_. The error is not in the\nintellect or intelligence, but in the ignorance or non-intelligence.\nDoubtless, we can and do err in our judgment of matters of which we\nare ignorant, of which we have only an imperfect knowledge, or when we\nundertake from what we do know to judge of things unknown, which is\nall that St. Thomas means when he says, \u201c_Falsitas est in\nintellectu_.\u201d[43] To deny this is to deny all human knowledge, and to\nassert universal scepticism, and then the lawyer could not assert his\nobjection, and would be obliged to doubt even that he doubts. If the\nintellect is universally fallible, we may as well close the discussion\nat once, for nothing can be settled. If it, in its own province, where\nit really does know, is infallible, then the only question is,\nwhether, in passing judgment on the facts that establish the\ninfallibility of the church, the intellect is obliged to go out of its\nown province, and judge of matters in regard to which it is\nconfessedly incompetent and fallible?--a question we shall consider in\nits place.\n\n2. We join issue with the lawyer on his assertion that the authority\nis intrinsic in the mind itself, not extrinsic, either in the object\nor the authority that affirms it. He says in his note that \u201cno\nauthority whatever can reside in the state, the church, or any mere\ninstitution or being _outside_ of the person, whether that church or\ninstitution assume divinity or not. The authority is not in the\nso-called _fact_, but in the _person_ to whom the so-called fact is\naddressed, and who is called upon to pass upon it. The Baconian system\nis false, because it makes the so-called fact the authority for\nitself; when plainly the very _existence_ or comprehension of it\ndepends wholly on the person to whom it is addressed.\u201d So we do not\nknow facts because they exist, but they exist because we know them or\njudge them to exist! But how can so-called facts be addressed to the\nperson before they exist? The lawyer goes farther than his argument\nagainst the church requires, and consequently proves, if anything, too\nmuch, and therefore nothing. He makes not only all knowledge, but,\nunintentionally, we presume, all existences, depend on their being\nknown, and therefore makes them purely subjective, and falls into\nFichteism or pure egoism.\n\nThe lawyer\u2019s rule excludes not only faith, but knowledge of every sort\nand degree; for all knowledge is assent, and in the simplest fact of\nknowledge the intellectual assent is given on authority or evidence\nextrinsic to the person, though intrinsic in the object. Knowledge is\neither intuitive or discursive. In intuitive knowledge, the evidence\nor motive of the intellectual assent is intrinsic in the object, but\nextrinsic to the assenting mind. The immediate presence of the object\nmotives or authorizes the assent, and the mind has simply the power or\nfaculty of apprehending the object, or judging that it is, when\npresented; for, without the object affirming its presence to the mind,\nthere can be no fact of knowledge or intellectual assent. In\ndiscursive knowledge the authority or evidence, as in intuitive\nknowledge, is intrinsic in the object, but it is implicit, and can be\nplaced in immediate relation with the intellectual faculty only by\ndiscursion--a process of reasoning or demonstration. But demonstration\ndoes not motive the assent; it only removes the _prohibentia_, or\nrenders explicit what is implicit, for nothing can be asserted in the     148\nconclusion not already implicitly asserted in the premises; yet the\nassent is by virtue of the evidence or authority intrinsic in the\nobject, as in intuition. All this means that we know objects because\nthey are and are placed in relation with our cognitive faculty, not\nthat they are because we know them, or because the mind places them,\nor makes them its object. If the lawyer\u2019s rule, that authority is not\nin the object but in the mind or person, were true, there could be no\nfact of knowledge, either intuitive or discursive, because the mind\ncannot know where there is nothing to be known.\n\nFaith or belief agrees with knowledge in the respect that it is\nintellectual assent, but differs from it in that it is mediate assent,\nby an authority extrinsic, as authority or evidence, both to the\nobject and to the person. The authority or evidence mediates between\nthe mind and the fact or object, and brings them together in a manner\nsomewhat analogous to that in which the middle term in the syllogism\nbrings together the two extremes and unites them in the conclusion. If\nthe evidence or the authority is adequate, the belief is reasonable\nand as certain as any conclusion of logic, or as the immediate assent\nof the mind in the fact of science or knowledge. I am as certain that\nthere is such a city as Rome, though I have never seen it, that there\nwas such a man as Julius C\u00e6sar, George Washington, or Napoleon\nBonaparte, as I am that the three angles of the triangle are equal to\ntwo right angles. It is on this principle the lawyer acts and must act\nin every case he has in court. He summons and examines witnesses, and\nrelies on their testimony or evidence to obtain a conviction or an\nacquittal, except in a question of law; and then he relies on the\njudge or the court. If there is no authority _outside_ the person,\nthat is, no authority not in his own mind, why does he summon and\nexamine and cross-examine witnesses or consult the judge? Why does he\nnot work the facts and the law out of his own \u201cinner consciousness,\u201d\nas do most modern historians the facts they give us for history? As a\nlawyer, our friend would soon find his principle, if he carried it\ninto court, operating as an effectual estoppel to the practice of his\nprofession.\n\nThe lawyer asks, \u201cWhen the missionary carries the church to the\nheathen, does he not present it for their rational acceptance? And if\nso, does he not ask their finite judgment to pass upon and accept the\ninfinite and absolute?\u201d We are sure our friend would argue better than\nthis if he had a case in court on which anything of importance\ndepended. When presented by his brother lawyer opposite with the\ndecision of the court of appeals barring his case, would he attempt to\njudge or pass upon the judgment of the court before accepting it, or\nwould he not be content with simply verifying the fact that the\ndecision has been rendered by the court of appeals or court of last\nresort? We feel quite sure that, if he were on the defensive, and\nadduced the decision of the court of last resort barring the action,\nhe would be very far from allowing his brother opposite to question\nthe judgment. Nor would he as a lawyer dream of rejecting the decision\nbecause his own mind had not passed upon its merits; but, when once\nassured that the court had rendered it, he would accept it and submit\nto it as law, not on his own judgment, but on the authority of the\ncourt itself. All he would allow himself to do would be to verify the\npowers of the court, in order to ascertain if it is a court of            149\ncompetent jurisdiction, and to be sure that it had rendered the\ndecision. The decision itself he would not, as a lawyer, think of\nexamining any farther than to ascertain its meaning. He would take it\nas final, and submit to it as law, whether for him or against him.\n\nThe objection fails to distinguish what, in the case supposed, the\nheathen are required to pass upon in order to act rationally in\naccepting the church. They would be required to pass on the\nsufficiency of the evidence of her divine institution and commission\nto teach and govern all men and nations in all things pertaining to\nthe kingdom of God on earth. That evidence, called by theologians\n\u201cmotives of credibility,\u201d found complete, all the rest follows as a\nlogical consequence, and there is no calling upon \u201cthe finite to pass\nupon the infinite and absolute, any more than there is upon the\ncounsellor to pass upon the merits of the judgment of the court of\nfinal resort after being certified that the court has actually\nrendered it. All that one has to believe of the infinite and absolute,\nafter he has established by evidence appropriate in the case the\ndivine institution and commission of the church, he believes on the\nauthority of the church herself.\n\nThe missionary, no doubt, presents the church to their rational\nacceptance, and must, therefore, present to them the motives of\ncredibility, or the facts which accredit her as divinely instituted\nand commissioned, and these motives, these facts, must be addressed to\ntheir understanding, and be such as their reason can pass upon and\naccept or reject. But the question is, Supposing reason has passed\nupon these facts or the motives, and found them sufficient to accredit\nthe church, as a teacher come from God, and commissioned or authorized\nby him to teach his word, is not the acceptance of that word on her\nauthority as the word of God a \u201crational acceptance,\u201d and all the most\nrigid reason does or can demand?\n\nThe lawyer says no; and because all authority is in the person, and\nresides nowhere _outside_ of him, and therefore it is necessary that\nreason should pass upon the contents of the word, that is, upon the\ndoctrines and mysteries contained in the word the church professes to\nteach, which is impossible; for it requires the finite to pass upon\nthe infinite and absolute, which exceeds its powers; therefore, faith\nis impossible. But this simply implies that no belief is admissible\nthat is not science, and faith must be swallowed up in knowledge, and\nthus cease to be faith, before the human mind can rationally accept\nit.\n\nThe trouble with the lawyer\u2019s objection is that it assumes that faith\nis irrational, unless it is science or knowledge. His statement goes\neven farther than this. He not only denies that there can be any\nrational belief on extrinsic authority, but that there is or can be\nany such authority, or that any state, church, or _being_ has or can\nhave any authority _outside_ of me, or not derived from me. This, as\nfar as words go, asserts that God himself has no authority over me,\nand his word has no authority for my reason or will, not dependent on\nme. We do not believe he means this, for he is not divested of the\nreason common to all men. He means, we presume, simply that no state,\nno church, not even God himself, has any authority on which I can\nrationally believe anything which transcends the reach of my reason,\nor which is not intrinsically evident to my reason by its own light.      150\nBut what is evident to me by the light of my own reason, I know, and\nnot simply believe. As belief is always on extrinsic authority simply\naccredited to reason, this goes so far as to deny that any belief is\nor can be rational, and that any authority or any amount of testimony\nis sufficient to warrant it, which, as we have seen, is much farther\nthan the lawyer can go in the practice of his profession, or any man\nin the ordinary business of life.\n\nWe do not think our legal friend has duly considered the reach of the\nprinciple he lays down. Even in the so-called positive sciences, the\ngreater part of the matters accepted by the scientist are accepted on\nextrinsic authority, not on personal knowledge. No geologist has\npersonally observed all or even the greater part of the facts he uses\nin the construction of his science; no geographer, however great a\ntraveller he may have been, has visited and personally examined all\nparts of the globe which he describes; the botanist describes and\nclassifies more plants, the zo\u00f6logist more forms of life, than he has\npersonally seen, and the historian deals almost entirely with facts of\nwhich he has no personal knowledge. Eliminate from the sciences what\nthe scientist has not observed for himself, but taken on the reported\nobservation of others, and from the garniture of every mind what it\nbelieves or takes on extrinsic authority, not on his personal\nknowledge, and there would be very little left to distinguish the most\nlearned and highly educated man from the untutored savage. In all the\naffairs of life, we are obliged to rely on extrinsic authority, on\nevidence neither in the subject nor in the object, on the observations\nand testimony of others, and sometimes on the observations and\naccumulated testimony of ages, especially in wise and prudent\nstatesmanship; and if we were suddenly deprived of this authority\nevidence, or testimony, and reduced to our own personal knowledge,\nintuitive or discursive; society would come to a standstill, and would\nsoon fall below the level of the New Hollander, for even he inherits\nsome lessons from the past, and associates with his observations some\nobservations of others.\n\nWe presume our friend the lawyer means nothing of all this, and his\nmistake arises from not sharply distinguishing between the motives of\ncredibility and the authority, on the one hand, and the authority and\nwhat it authorizes, on the other. The existence of God is a fact of\nscience, though discursive, not intuitive, science. That God is, as\nthe theologians say, _prima veritas in essendo, in cognoscendo, et in\ndicendo_, is also a truth of science--is a truth we not simply believe,\nbut know or may know, for it can be proved with certainty by natural\nreason prior to faith. God is truth; it is impossible for him to lie,\nsince he is _prima veritas in dicendo_, the primal truth in speaking,\nand can neither deceive nor be deceived, for he is _prima veritas in\ncognoscendo_, or the principle of all truth in knowing.\n\nThis granted, the word of God must be true, infallibly true. So far we\ncan go by science or certain knowledge. Now, suppose the lawyer to\nhave full proof that it really is God\u2019s word that is announced to him,\nwould he not be bound to believe it true, nay, could he in the\nexercise of his reason help believing it true, prior to and\nindependent of any consideration of its contents, or what it is that\nGod says? God can neither deceive nor be deceived, therefore his word\nmust be true, and cannot possibly be false. God\u2019s word is the highest     151\nand most conclusive evidence conceivable of the truth of what is\nasserted in his word, and, if the truth, then reasonable, for nothing\nis more reasonable than truth or unreasonable than falsehood. It\nwould, therefore, be as unnecessary as irreverent and impertinent to\nexamine God\u2019s word to see if what he asserts is reasonable before\nyielding it our assent. We know beforehand that it is true, or else\nGod could not affirm it, and that whatever conflicts with it is false\nand unreasonable; and the lawyer himself will admit, we presume, that\nthe highest possible reason for believing is God\u2019s word, in case we\nhave it. Let us consider so much settled.\n\nThe next step is the proof or certainty that what is alleged to be the\nword of God really is his word. His word is his revelation. Suppose,\nthen, that he made his revelation, and deposited it with the apostles\nwhom he commanded to go forth and teach it to all men and nations. The\napostles would, on this supposition, be competent and credible\nwitnesses to the fact that God made and deposited his revelation with\nthem. Suppose, farther, that the apostles transmitted to their\nsuccessors, or, rather, that the church is the identical apostolical\nbody, continued without any interruption or break down to our time,\nthe church would then be a competent and credible witness to the fact\nof revelation and to what is revealed. Being the eye-witness of the\nfacts which proved our Lord a teacher come from God and authorized to\nspeak in his name, and the depositary of the revelation, her testimony\nis conclusive. She saw with her own eyes the facts, she knows what has\nbeen deposited with her, and the commission she received, and therefore\nher testimony or evidence cannot be gainsaid. She is the living and\ncontemporary witness, and every-way credible, as we have shown in the\narticle _The Church accredits Herself_.[44]\n\nThe infallibility follows necessarily from her commission from God to\nteach all men and nations. This commission from God commands all men\nand nations in his name to believe and obey what she teaches as his\nword. If she could err in teaching, then all men and nations might be\nrequired by God himself to believe error or falsehood, which is\nimpossible, since God is truth, and can neither deceive nor be\ndeceived. The divine commission to the church or apostolic body to\nteach carries with it the divine pledge of infallibility.\n\nNow, supposing the church to be what she claims to be, reason itself\nrequires us to accept and obey as the word of God whatever she teaches\nas his word, since his word is true, and the highest possible evidence\nof truth. Nothing is or can be more reasonable than to believe the\nword of God, or to believe God on his word. Equally reasonable with it\nis it to believe that what the Apostolic Church declares to be his\nword, really is so, if she is instituted and commissioned by God to\nkeep, guard, teach, interpret, declare, and define it. The only point,\nthen, to be proved is the divine institution and commission, both of\nwhich, if the apostolic body, she is herself the authority for\nasserting, as the supreme court is the authority for asserting its own\nlegal constitution, power, and jurisdiction. This leaves, then, only a\nsingle point to be proved, namely, the historical identity of the body\ncalling itself the Catholic Church with the apostolic body with whom\nthe revelation was deposited.\n\nWe need not now go into the historical proofs of the identity of the      152\nCatholic Church with the apostolic body, for that is easily done, and\nhas been done over and over again; besides, it lies on the very face\nof history, and Pius IX., the Pontiff now gloriously reigning, is as\neasily and as certainly proved to be the successor of Peter as Ulysses\nS. Grant is proved to be the successor in the presidency of the United\nStates of George Washington, the schism of Jefferson Davis to the\ncontrary notwithstanding. Moreover, if the lawyer doubts, as we\npresume he does not, the identity, we hold ourselves ready to adduce\nthe proofs whenever he calls for them. Assuming, then, the case to be\nas stated, we demand what in the whole process of acceptance of the\nfaith the missionary proposes to the heathen is irrational, or not\nsatisfactory, to the fullest demands of reason? In fact, the points to\nbe proved are exceedingly few, and those not above the reach of\nprivate judgment, or difficult. The authority of our Lord as a teacher\ncome from God was proved by miracles. These miracles the church\nwitnessed and testifies to as facts, and so far her testimony is\nunimpeachable. Their supernatural and miraculous character we can\nourselves judge of. Whether they prove the divine authority of Jesus\nor not, is also a matter of which we are competent to judge. His\ndivine authority proved, his divinity, and all the mysteries of his\nperson can be rationally accepted on his word, and what his word was,\nthe church who received it is competent to declare. There really,\nthen, is nothing to be proved which the church herself does not either\nprove or supply the means of proving in order to render belief in what\nshe claims to be, and in what she teaches, as rational or reasonable\nas belief in any well-ascertained fact in natural science. The motives\nof credibility which she brings with her and presents to the\nunderstanding of all men who hear her accredit her as the divinely\nappointed depositary and teacher of the revelation God has made to\nmen, and all the rest follows of itself, as in the syllogism the\nconclusion follows from the premises.\n\nThe lawyer does not admit it, and rejects the whole, because he\nrejects all belief on extrinsic authority. But is not this because he\nmistakes the meaning of the word _authority_ as used by theologians\nand philosophers? We have generally found that the men who object to\nbelief on authority understand by authority an order or command\naddressed to the will, without including anything to convince the\nreason or to motive the assent of the understanding. This is not\nprecisely the theological sense of the term. The theologians\nunderstand by authority in matters of faith authority _for_ believing\nas well as an order _to_ believe. It is the reason which authorizes\nthe belief, and is therefore primarily authority for the intellect,\nand furnishes it an ample reason to believe.\n\nAuthority addressed simply to the will ordering it to believe, and\ngiving the intellect no reason for believing, can produce no rational\nbelief, and induce no belief at all, and this we presume is what, and\nall, our legal friend means. Taking authority in his sense, we\nentirely agree with him, except a command from God is always a reason\nfor the intellect as well as an order to the will, since God is\n_prima veritas_, and can command only what is true, reasonable, just,\nand right. His command is his word, and an order from him to the will\nis _ipso facto_ a reason for the understanding, since no higher\nevidence of truth than his word is possible. With this reserve, the       153\nlawyer is right in his objection to belief on authority, as he\nunderstands it, for there is no belief where there is no intellectual\nconviction. But he is mistaken in supposing that theologians mean only\nauthority in his sense, authority commanding the will, and giving no\nreason to the understanding; they mean primarily by authority in\nmatters of faith or reason authority for believing, and commanding it\nonly through conviction to believe, which it must do if convinced.\n\nThe authority, then, which we assert, is the reason for believing; it\nis the _medius terminus_ that unites the credible object and the\ncreditive subject, and renders the belief possible and an intellectual\nact, and so far assimilates it to knowledge. Belief without authority\nis belief without any ground or reason for believing, and is\nirrational, unfounded, mere credulity, as when one believes a rumor\nfor which there is no authority. When the authority is worthy of\ncredit, the belief is warranted, and when it is infallible, the belief\nis infallible. In believing what the church teaches me is the word of\nGod, I have infallible authority for my belief, and cannot be\ndeceived, be mistaken, or err. This is all so plain, and so fully in\naccord with the demands of reason, that we are forced to explain the\nrepugnance so many people manifest to believing on authority, by\nsupposing that they understand by authority simply an order of a\nmaster to believe, without accompanying it with anything to convince\nthe understanding, thus making the act of faith an act not of faith at\nall, but of mere blind obedience. This is all wrong. Faith as an\nintellectual act cannot be blind any more than is the act of\nknowledge, and must have a reason that convinces the understanding.\nHence, the church does not censure unbelief in those who know not the\nauthority or reason there is for belief, and, if at all, it is only\nfor their neglect to avail themselves with due diligence of the means\nof arriving at belief within their reach.\n\nThe authority or command of God is indeed the highest reason the mind\ncan have for believing anything, and it is therefore that unbelief in\nthose who have his command or authority becomes sinful, because it\nimplies a contempt of God, a contempt of truth, and practically says\nto him who made us, from whom we hold all that we have, and who is\ntruth itself, \u201cWe _will_ not take your word; we do not care what you\nsay; we are the masters of our own thoughts, and will think and\nbelieve as we please.\u201d This is not only irreverent and disobedient,\nindicating a wholly indefensible pride and self-will, but denies the\nvery principle asserted by unbelievers in justification of their\nrefusal to believe at the order or command of authority, namely, that\nit is not in one\u2019s power to believe or disbelieve at will, nor as one\nwills.\n\nThese explanations suffice, we think, to show that private judgment or\nindividual reason is not required by the Catholic to judge \u201cthe\ninfinite and absolute,\u201d or to pass upon any matter that lies out of\nthe province of natural reason, and exceeds its competence or finite\ncapacity. It is required to pass only upon the motives of credibility,\nor the facts that prove the church is a divine institution,\ncommissioned to teach all men and nations through all time the divine\nrevelation which she has received, and of these we are able by our own\nlight to judge. The authority to teach established, all the rest\nfollows logically and necessarily, as we have just said, as in the\nsyllogism the conclusion follows from the premises. The authority\nbeing addressed to the intellect as well as to the will, and a            154\nsufficient reason for believing as well as obeying, the lawyer\u2019s\nprincipal objection is disposed of, and the acceptance of the faith is\nshown to be a rational acceptance.\n\nBut, conceding the infallibility of the church, since her teaching\nmust be received by a fallible understanding, why is belief on the\nauthority of the church less fallible than belief on the authority of\nan infallible book, interpreted by the same fallible understanding?\nYou say to Protestants: The Bible may be infallible, but your\nunderstanding of it is fallible, and therefore even with it you have\nno infallible rule of faith. Why may not the Protestant retort: Be it\nthat the church is infallible, you have only your fallible private\njudgment by which to interpret her teachings, and, therefore, with\nyour infallible church have only a fallible faith?\n\nMore words are usually required to answer an objection than are\nrequired to state it. We do not assert or concede the fallibility of\nreason, intellect, or private judgment in matters which come within\nits own province or competence. Revelation presupposes reason, and\ntherefore that man is capable of receiving it; consequently of\ncertainly knowing and correctly understanding it, within the limits of\nhis finite reason. We do not build faith on scepticism, or the\nincapacity of reason to know anything with certainty. Reason is the\npreamble to faith, and is competent to receive and understand truly,\ninfallibly, if you will, clear and distinct propositions in their\nplain and obvious sense when presented to it in words spoken or in\nwords written. If it were not so, all writing and all teaching, all\nbooks and all sermons, would be useless. So far the Protestant rule\nand the Catholic are the same, with this difference only, that, if we\nhappen to mistake the sense of the church, she is ever present to\ncorrect the error and to set us right, while the Protestant rule can\ngive no further explanation, or add a word to correct the\nmisapprehension. The teachings of the church need to be understood,\nbut not ordinarily to be interpreted; and, even when they do have to\nbe interpreted, she is present to interpret them, and declare\ninfallibly the sense in which they are to be understood. But the\nBible, from beginning to end, must be interpreted before it can be\nunderstood, and, while private judgment or reason may be competent to\nunderstand it when it is interpreted or explained, it is yet only a\nfallible interpreter, and incompetent to explain to the understanding\nits real sense.\n\nThe church interprets and explains herself; there are books, also,\nthat carry their own explanation with them, and so need no\ninterpretation or further explanation; but manifestly the Bible is not\nsuch a book. It is inspired; it is true; it is infallible; and is, as\nSt. Paul says of all Scripture, divinely inspired, \u201cprofitable to\nteach, to reprove, to correct, to instruct in justice, that the man of\nGod may be perfect, furnished to every good word and work\u201d (2 Tim.\niii. 16, 17); but it bears on its face the evidence that it was\naddressed to men who were already believers, and already instructed,\npartially at least, in the truths it teaches or enforces, and that it\nwas not written to teach the faith to such as had no knowledge of it,\nbut to correct errors, to present more fully the faith on certain\npoints, to point out the duties it enjoins, to exhort to repentance\nand reform, and to hold up as motives on the one hand, the fearful\njudgment of God upon those who disregard his goodness, or despise his\nmercy, or abuse his long-suffering, and, on the other, the exceeding      155\nriches of divine love, and the great reward prepared in heaven for\nthose that believe, love, and obey him. No one can read it without\nperceiving that it neither is nor professes to be the original medium\nof the Christian revelation to man, but from first to last supposes a\nrevelation previously made, the true religion to have been already\ntaught, and instructions in it already received. This is true of the\nOld Testament, and more especially true of the New Testament; and we\nknow historically, and nobody denies it, that the faith was preached\nand believed, and particular churches, congregations of believers,\nwere gathered and organized, before a word of the New Testament was\nwritten.\n\nThe Protestant, reduced to the sacred text, even supposing he has the\ngenuine and authentic text, and his private judgment, would be reduced\nto the condition of the lawyer who should undertake to explain the\nstatutes of any one of our states, in total ignorance of the Common\nLaw, or without the least reference to it or the decisions of the\ncommon-law courts. Now and then a statute, perhaps, would explain\nitself, but in most cases he would be wholly at a loss as to the real\nmeaning of the legislature. Our wise law reformers in this state, a\nfew years since, seeing and feeling the fact, attempted to codify the\nlaws so as to supersede the demand for any knowledge of the Common Law\nto understand them, and the ablest jurists in the state find them a\npuzzle, or nearly inexplicable, and our best lawyers are uncertain how\nto bring an action under the new Code of Procedure. The Protestant\nneeds, in order to interpret the sacred text, a knowledge of\nrevelation which can neither be obtained from the text itself without\ninterpretation nor supplied by private judgment. Hence it is that we\nfind Protestants unable to agree among themselves as to what is or is\nnot the meaning of the sacred text, and varying in their views all the\nway down from the highest Puseyite who accepts all Catholic doctrine,\n\u201cthe damnatory clauses excepted,\u201d to the lowest Unitarian, who holds\nthat our Lord was simply a man, the son of Joseph and Mary, and\nrejects the church, the mysteries of the Trinity and Incarnation,\noriginal sin, redemption, the expiatory sacrifice, regeneration,\nsupernatural grace, the resurrection of the dead, the last judgment,\nthe everlasting punishment of the incorrigible in hell, and the reward\nof the just in any heaven above the Elysian Fields of the Greeks and\nRomans or the happy hunting-grounds of the poor Indian. Protestants\nare able to agree among themselves only so far as they follow Catholic\ntradition and agree with the church. The Protestant needs to know the\nChristian faith in order to interpret the sacred text and ascertain it\nfrom the Bible, and this he cannot know by his own private judgment or\ndevelop from his own \u201cinner consciousness,\u201d since it lies in the\nsupernatural order, and is above the reach of his natural faculties.\nIt is clear, then, that in the Bible interpreted by private judgment\nhe has and can have only a fallible authority.\n\nIt is not because the Holy Scriptures do not contain, explicitly or\nimplicitly, the whole faith, that, interpreted by private judgment,\nthey give only a fallible rule of faith, but because, to find the\nfaith in its unity and integrity in them, we must know it\n_aliunde_ and beforehand. This difficulty is completely obviated by\nthe Catholic rule. The church has in Catholic tradition, which she\npreserves intact by time or change, the whole revelation, whether         156\nwritten or unwritten, and in this tradition she has the key to the\nreal sense of the sacred Scriptures, and is able to interpret them\ninfallibly. Tradition, authenticated by the church as the witness and\ndepositary of it, supplies the knowledge necessary to the\nunderstanding of the sacred text. Read in the light of tradition, what\nis implicit in the text becomes explicit, what is merely referred to\nas wholly known becomes expressly and clearly stated, and we are able\nto understand the written word, because tradition interprets it for\nus, without any demand for a knowledge or judgment on our part that\nexceeds our natural powers. Our judgment is no longer private\njudgment, because we have in tradition a catholic rule by which to\njudge, and our judgment has not to pass on anything above the province\nof reason.\n\nThe objection we make to the Protestant rule, it must be obvious now\nto our friend, cannot be retorted. The Protestant must interpret the\nsacred Scriptures by his private judgment, which he cannot do without\npassing upon questions which transcend its reach. The Catholic\nexercises, of course, his judgment in accepting the infallible\nteachings of the church, but he is not required to pass upon any\nquestion above the reach of his understanding, or upon which, by his\nnatural reason, he cannot judge infallibly, or with the certainty of\nactual and complete knowledge. He is not required to pass upon the\ntruth of what the church teaches, for that follows from her divine\ninstitution and commission to teach the revelation God has made\npreviously established. He has simply to pass upon the question, What\nis it she teaches, or presents clearly and distinctly to my\nunderstanding to be believed? and, in passing upon that question, my\njudgment has not to judge of anything beyond or above reason, and,\ntherefore, is not fallible any more than in any other act of\nknowledge.\n\nThere is another advantage the Catholic rule has over the Protestant\nrule. In this world of perpetual change, and with the restless and\never-busy activity of the human mind, new questions are constantly\ncoming up and in need of being answered, and so answered as to save\nthe unity and integrity of the faith. The Bible having once spoken is\nhenceforth silent; it can say nothing more, and make no further\nexplanations of the faith to meet these new questions, and tell us\nexplicitly what the word requires or forbids us to believe with regard\nto them. Hence, Protestants never know how to meet them. Then new or\nfurther explanations and decisions are constantly needed, and will be\nneeded to the end of time. Even the explanations and decisions of the\nchurch, amply sufficient when made, not seldom, through the subtlety\nand activity of error, and its unceasing efforts to evade or obscure\nthe truth, become insufficient, and need themselves to be further\nexplained, and applied so as to strike in the head the new forms of\nold error and deprive them of their last subterfuge. These\nexplanations and decisions so necessary, and which can be infallibly\nmade only by a living and ever-present infallible authority, can be\nonly fallibly made, if at all, on the Protestant rule. Even the creed\nof the church, though unalterable, needs from time to time not\ndevelopment, but new and further explanations, to meet and condemn the\nnew forms of error that spring up, and to preserve the faith\nunimpaired and inviolate. How is this to be done infallibly by a book\nwritten two thousand years ago and private judgment, or without the       157\ndivine and infallible authority of the church?\n\nThese remarks and explanations, we think, fully answer the objections\nof our legal friend to the belief on authority, and prove that no\nattempted retort of the Protestant on the Catholic can be sustained,\nor entertained even, for a moment. We have thus vindicated for him the\nCatholic rule, and proved that faith on that rule is possible,\npracticable, and rational, is reasonable obedience, and by no means a\nblind submission, as he probably supposes. What more can he ask of us?\nHe cannot repeat his charge and say we have not met the question, for\nwe have met it, at least so far as we understand it, and under more\nforms than he probably dreamed of in urging it. The question is one\nthat meets the inquirer at the threshold, and he can hardly suppose\nthat we could have accepted the church ourselves without meeting it,\nconsidering it at length, and disposing of it.\n\nYet there is one thing more wanting. The method of proof we have\npointed out, however sure and however faithfully followed, does not\nsuffice to make one a Catholic, or to give one true Catholic and\ndivine faith, or faith as a theological virtue; it only removes the\nobstacles in the way of the intellect in believing, and yields only\nwhat theologians call human faith--_fides humana_--which really\nadvances one not a single step towards the kingdom of God, or living\nunion with Christ. A man may be thoroughly convinced, so far as his\nreason goes, of the whole Catholic faith, and yet, perhaps, never\nbecome a Catholic. To be a Catholic, one must have supernatural faith,\nand be elevated by the grace of God in baptism to the supernatural\norder of life in Christ. Reason can construct no bridge over which one\ncan pass from the natural to the supernatural; the bridge must be\nconstructed by grace. Faith, the beginning of the Christian life, is\nthe gift of God. The method we have pointed out or the Catholic rule\nproduces the conviction of the truth of the church and what she\nteaches, and shows it to be one\u2019s duty to seek, if he has it not, the\ngrace that inclines the will, illumines the understanding, and\nregenerates the soul.\n\nThe way in which to seek and find this grace is pointed out by our\nLord, Matt. vii. 7: \u201cAsk, and you shall receive; seek, and you shall\nfind; knock, and it shall be opened unto you.\u201d The way is the way of\nprayer. The grace of prayer, _gratia orationis_, is given unto all\nmen. All men can pray. He who prays for it shall receive the grace to\nseek, and he who seeks shall find, and receive the grace to knock at\nthe door of the church, which will be opened to him, and he have the\ngrace to enter into the regeneration, and live the life of Christ. We\nhave no hope for the conversion of any one who does not pray; and we\nhave more confidence in the humble prayers of simple, sincere, and\nfervent Catholic souls for the conversion of those without than in all\nthe reasonings in the world, however conclusive they may be. When once\ngrace has touched the heart, all clouds vanish of themselves, all\ndarkness is dissipated, all obstacles disappear, we know not how, and\nto believe is the easiest and simplest thing in the world. To believe\nis difficult only when one persists in relying on his own strength and\nwill accept no aid from above. Let those, then, who have faith pray\nunceasingly for those who have it not.\n\n\n     [42] Lib. lxxxiii. qu\u00e6st. xxx.\n\n     [43] _Vide Summa_, q. xvii. a. 3 in c.\n\n     [44] THE CATHOLIC WORLD for May, 1871, first article.\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n                        THE HOUSE OF YORKE.                               158\n\n\n                            CHAPTER XV.\n\n           VOILA CE QUI FAIT QUE VOTRE FILLE EST MUETTE.\n\n\nMadame Swetchine says: \u201cThe wrongs which the heart resents most keenly\nare impalpable and invisible.\u201d We may parody this, and say, with equal\ntruth, that the troubles most difficult to bear are frequently those\nwhich, to indifferent observers, seem scarcely worth mention. There is\ndignity, and a certain stimulating excitement, in great affliction and\ngreat wrong; but a petty persecution, which we would fain treat with\ncontempt, but which, in spite of us, pierces with small, envenomed\npoints to our very hearts, is capable of testing our utmost endurance.\nWho does not know how one malicious, intriguing woman can poison a\nwhole community, break friendship that would have stood the test of\ndeath, and destroy a confidence that seemed as firm as the hills? The\nsmiling malice, the affected candor, the smooth insinuation, the more\nthan infantine innocence--happy he who has not learned by bitter\nexperience these tactics of the devil\u2019s sharpshooters!\n\nOf such a nature was the earlier stage of the persecution suffered by\nthe Catholics of Seaton. Servants were daily insulted by mistresses\nless well-bred than themselves. They had to swallow a gibe with their\nFriday\u2019s eggs or fish; they were entertained with slanderous stories\nregarding the priest they loved and reverenced. This was, of course,\nwithout provocation. Who ever knew an Irish servant-girl who attacked\nthe religion or irreligion of her employers? Workingmen could not go\nthrough the streets to and from their work without being forced to\nlisten to revilings of their church. This was carried to such an\nextent that they soon found themselves obliged to relinquish their\nopen-air lounging-places, where they had smoked and talked after the\nday\u2019s work was done, and shut themselves into their houses. Nor were\nthey allowed to remain in peace there. Nearly all the Irish lived on\none street, running from the bridge up the west side of the river, and\ncalled Irish Lane. When it was found that they would not come out to\nbe insulted, the mob that gathered in the streets every evening\nmarched up this lane, calling out to the Irish, challenging, taunting\nthem. But not one word or act of retaliation could they provoke to\ngive them an excuse for the violence which they were thirsting to\ncommit. Father Rasle had given his people stringent orders to remain\nin their houses, and make no reply, no matter what was said to them,\nand to defend themselves only if their houses were broken into. They\nobeyed him with astonishing docility.\n\nWhen, later, the people of Seaton found themselves covered with\ndisgrace before the country for their outrages on Catholics, they\nstrove to throw the odium on \u201ca few rowdies,\u201d or on workingmen from\nother towns employed in the Seaton ship-yards; and in a sketch of the\ntown in the _History of Maine_, written since that time, the Catholics\nare accused of being themselves the cause of their own troubles. Both\nthese statements are false. In the town-meeting, which endorsed and       159\neven suggested every outrage that was committed, ministers and\ntown-officers made inflammatory speeches from the same platform with\nany ignorant adventurer who might hope to raise himself to notice by\nreviling the church. Those of the townspeople who were not active\nmembers of the mob were, at least, passive lookers-on; and when, at\nlength, acts of violence began, some of the most prominent citizens\nwent to see the windows of the Catholic church and of the priest\u2019s\nhouse broken, as they would have gone to any other amusing show. But\nwe anticipate.\n\nThe prime instrument in this movement was the Seaton _Herald_, which\nCarl Yorke had left in a sinking condition. The Know-Nothings, wanting\nan organ, bought it for a song, and put into the editorial chair a man\nwell fitted for the work. Under such superintendence, the paper rose\nto an infamous popularity. It was no longer a question of religious\nfreedom, and law, and order, but of common decency. Every week the\nnames of quiet, respectable people were dragged into its columns, that\nfestered with lies--their names only enough veiled to escape the law,\nbut not enough to conceal the identity. In a city, there is some\nescape from this disgusting notoriety--one can hide from it; but in a\nsmall town there is no escape. Everybody is known to everybody, and\none lives as in a glass case.\n\nMr. Yorke looked over one of these papers--\u201clooked holes through it,\u201d\nClara said--then threw it into the fireplace, dropped a lighted match\non it, and watched its burning with his nostrils compressed, like one\nwho smells a noxious scent. \u201cDon\u2019t send another number of your\ndisgraceful paper to me,\u201d he wrote to the editor; but vainly, for the\npaper came as before, and was regularly taken in the tongs and put\ninto the kitchen fire, except when Betsey or Patrick slyly rescued it\nfor their own private reading.\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t care for their lies,\u201d Patrick said, when Mr. Yorke reproved\nhim; \u201cbut I want to know what they mean to do. If a pack of thieves\nwere planning to break into your house, sir, wouldn\u2019t you stop to\nlisten to their conversation?\u201d\n\nThe Catholic children had also their cross to bear. The teachers of\nthe public schools, anxious to have their part in the \u201cgreat work,\u201d\nwere zealous in enforcing the Bible-reading, and careful to see that\nno Catholic child omitted the doxology which Martin Luther chose to\nadd to the \u201cOur Father\u201d of the Son of God.\n\nSuddenly an outcry was raised by the Know-Nothings. The pretext they\nhad longed and worked for was given, and great was their joy. The\nincident was simple enough. The boy who lived with Father Rasle was\nfound by his teacher to have a Douay Bible. He was ordered to take it\naway and buy a Protestant Bible. \u201cI shall not buy you a Protestant\nBible,\u201d Father Rasle said. \u201cUse your own, or go without.\u201d The child\nwas threatened with punishment if he did not bring one. The priest\nimmediately removed him from school, fitted up the building formerly\nused as a chapel for a school-house, and employed a young Catholic\nlady, recently come to town, as teacher. The Catholic children gladly\nleft the schools, where they had, perhaps, suffered more than their\nparents had elsewhere, and placed themselves under the care of Miss\nChurchill. How beautiful, how strange it was to kneel down and say an\nOur Father and a Hail Mary at the beginning of their studies! How\ndelightful to go out at recess and play without being assailed by         160\nblows or nicknames! How proud they were when Father Rasle came in to\ngive them his weekly instruction in religion! It was quite different\nfrom their accustomed ideas of school-life.\n\nMrs. Yorke was much disturbed by this arrangement. \u201cEdith will have to\ngive up her new friend,\u201d she said decidedly. \u201cI honor Miss Churchill\nfor acting up to her principles, even when it is sure to bring her\ninto a disagreeably conspicuous position; but there is nothing that\nobliges us to share her danger. When a person comes out of the ranks\nfor conscience\u2019 sake, let her stand alone, and have the glory of it.\u201d\n\nEdith objected at first, but her aunt insisted, and the girl soon saw\nthat, though it went against her feelings, it was right to obey.\n\n\u201cWe are not Catholics, my dear,\u201d Mrs. Yorke said; \u201cbut it is our duty\nand wish to protect you from insult. We have suffered in doing so. You\nknow we have given up going to meeting, the sermons were so pointed,\nand given up the sewing-circle, because we could not go without\nhearing something offensive, and your cousins find it unpleasant to go\ninto the street even. As to your uncle, his defence of the religious\nrights of your church exposes him to actual danger. Our life here is\nnearly intolerable, and this will make it worse if you and Miss\nChurchill continue to visit each other.\u201d\n\nFortunately, Miss Churchill anticipated this, and herself put a\ntemporary end to their acquaintance--\u201ctill better times,\u201d she wrote.\n\n\u201cShe has behaved well,\u201d Mrs. Yorke said, after reading the note. \u201cAnd\nnow, Charles, I wish that you would show a little prudence, and let\nevents take their course without interfering. Why should you say\nanything? It does no good.\u201d\n\n\u201cFrom which motive would you wish me to be silent,\u201d her husband asked\nquietly--\u201cfrom cowardice or selfishness?\u201d\n\nShe made no reply, save to wring her hands, and wish that she had\nnever come to Seaton.\n\n\u201cNow, Amy dear, listen to reason,\u201d her husband said.\n\n\u201cYou know, Charles, it is very disagreeable to have to listen to\nreason,\u201d she objected pathetically.\n\nHe laughed, but persisted. \u201cI have heard you say many a time that\ndisinterested and intelligent men were to blame in withdrawing from\npublic affairs, and leaving them in the hands of dishonest\npoliticians. You said, very sensibly, that, if such men were not\nstrong enough to prevent abuses, they should at least protest against\nthem, and let the world see that patriotism was not quite dead.\nPerhaps, you added, such a protest might shame others into joining\nyou. Oh! you were eloquent on that subject, little woman, and quoted\nfrom _Tara\u2019s Halls_. The idea was that even the indignant breaking of\na heart in the cause of truth showed that truth still lived, which was\nsome good. What do you say, milady? Was it all talk? Are you going to\nfail me? \u2018I appeal from Philip drunk to Philip sober.\u2019\u201d\n\nMrs. Yorke was smiling, and her face had caught a slight color. The\nrepetition of her own sentiments had encouraged her, as the\nrecollection of our own heroic aspirations often does help us in\nweaker moments.\n\nHis wife pacified, Mr. Yorke went out to work off his own irritation.\nHe would not have had her know it, but he had been attacked in the\nstreet that very day when stopping to speak to Father Rasle. The\npriest seldom went into the street unless absolutely obliged to, and      161\nwould gladly have avoided subjecting any one to annoyance on his\naccount; but Mr. Yorke would as soon have denied his faith as have\nshrunk from stopping to greet the priest cordially--would have so\ngreeted him, indeed, if a hundred guns had been aimed at him for it.\nBut it was not pleasant. He was a fastidious gentleman, accustomed to\nrespect, and the impertinence of the rabble was to him peculiarly\noffensive. He had come home fuming with anger, which had not abated\nwhile restrained. Fortunately, he found something to scold at the\nminute he went out. A grapevine, which he had coaxed to grow in that\nunaccustomed country, had this year put forth its first clusters; by\nsome mistake, Patrick had clipped the leaves off, and left the green\nbunches exposed to the sun.\n\n\u201cPat, what fool told you to do that?\u201d his master demanded angrily.\n\n\u201cYourself, sir!\u201d answered Patrick, without flinching. He had his cause\nof annoyance also.\n\nMr. Yorke denied the charge with emphasis:\n\n\u201cIt is no such thing, you--you vertebrate!\u201d\n\nPatrick drew himself up with an air of dignified resolution. \u201cSir,\u201d he\nsaid, \u201cI\u2019ve done my duty by you, and you\u2019ve done your duty by me, and\nI\u2019ve taken many a sharp word from you, and made no complaint. But I\u2019m\nan honest man, if I am not rich nor learned, and I won\u2019t stand and let\nany one call me such a name as that.\u201d\n\nMr. Yorke laughed out irrepressibly. \u201cWell, well, Pat,\u201d he said, \u201cI\nbeg your pardon. You\u2019re not a vertebrate.\u201d\n\n\u201cAll right, sir!\u201d Pat answered cheerfully, and went about his work\nsatisfied.\n\nMr. Yorke, his good humor quite restored, went into the house again.\n\n\u201cPoor Pat!\u201d Edith said, a little zealously, when the others smiled\nover the story.\n\n\u201cWe are not scorning him for his ignorance, my dear,\u201d her uncle\nreplied. \u201cWith Charles Lamb, \u2018I honor an honest obliquity of\nunderstanding,\u2019 and I also honor an honest ignorance of books; but\nsometimes they are amusing.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat did I hear you saying to Mr. Yorke, Pat?\u201d Betsey asked the man\nthat evening. \u201cIt seemed to me that you were impudent.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe fact is, I was really mad,\u201d Patrick owned. \u201cI\u2019d been downtown,\nand there I came across the editor of the _Herald_, and the sight of\nhim roiled me, especially as he grinned and made believe bless\nhimself. I\u2019d like to meet him alone in a quiet bit of woods. I\u2019d soon\nchange his complexion to as beautiful a black and blue as you ever\nsaw--the dirty spalpeen, with his eye like a buttonhole!\u201d\n\nBetsey sat on the door-step, and looked up at the stars. \u201cIf I\u2019d had\nthe placing of \u2018em,\u201d she remarked presently, \u201cI\u2019d have put \u2018em in even\nrows, like pins in a paper. It would look better. They\u2019re dreadfully\nmixed up now.\u201d\n\nPatrick looked into the skies a little while, but his mind was on\nother things than the marshalling of stars into papers of pins. \u201cI\u2019m\nsorry Mr. Yorke went to that town-meeting to-night,\u201d he said.\n\nMr. Yorke was, in fact, at that moment rising in the town-hall to\nspeak. The Rev. John Conway had uttered a bitter tirade against the\nCatholic clergy, with a fierce recapitulation of the affair of Johnny\nO\u2019Brian, the priest\u2019s boy, and his Douay Bible. Dr. Martin had\nfollowed with cooler, but not less bitter, denunciation, and another      162\nreference to Johnny O\u2019Brian. A Portuguese barber had made an idiotic\nspeech, and various town-officers, and prominent Know-Nothings, all\nmore or less illiterate, had spoken, and all had seasoned their\ndiscourse with Johnny O\u2019Brian. Finally, the Rev. Saul Griffeth had\nheld his hearers spell-bound while he described, in glowing phrases,\nthe inevitable and complicated ruin of the country in case Catholics\nshould be admitted to equal rights, or any rights at all, and had\npainted a dazzling picture of the country\u2019s future glories should\nCatholics be excluded. And here again the perennial Johnny O\u2019Brian\nfigured.\n\nIn the midst of a cold and threatening silence, Mr. Yorke got up.\nNever was his voice more rasping, his mouth more scornful, his glance\nmore full of fire. \u201cIt was happy,\u201d he said, \u201cfor one man that the\nReverend Mr. John Conway was not Calvin; for, instead of being content\nto burn Servetus, he would first have tortured him, till even the\nflames would have been a relief. As for the Reverend Mr. Griffeth\u2019s\ncompanion pictures of the country\u2019s future, they were daubs such as no\nsensible man would receive as true representations, and the young man\nwho painted them probably believed in them no more than he had\nbelieved in the precisely contrary views which he had expressed within\na few years in the speaker\u2019s own hearing. With regard to the other\norators, he did not know what that illiterate and idiotic Portuguese\nbarber had to do with the town affairs of Seaton, and he congratulated\nthe rest on the possession of Johnny O\u2019Brian, who had certainly been a\ngodsend to them. So long as a shred of that devoted child was left,\nthey would have something to say. But the reasoning in the most of the\nspeeches to which he had listened had reminded him of the Latin of\nSgarnarelle, _le m\u00e9decin malgr\u00e9 lui_. They had put their premises in\nthe middle ages of Europe, and their conclusion in a little New\nEngland town of the nineteenth century. \u2018_Voil\u00e0 ce qui fait que votre\nfille est muette._\u2019 What, in fact, are we here to talk about?\u201d He then\nwent on to state his own views.\n\nIt is said of the French legitimists under the first empire, that in\ntheir scorn of the emperor, and their determination to regard him as a\nforeigner, they used to pronounce his name so that it seemed to be a\nword of twenty syllables. Mr. Yorke had that faculty. His enunciation\nwas clear, and the letter _r_ very prominent, and the mere pronouncing\nof a name he could make an insult. At first his manner had commanded\nsilence--no one liked to be the first to hiss; but it became too\nscathing presently, and when one gave the first faint sound of\ndisapproval, the storm broke out. He tried again and again to speak,\nbut they would not hear him. Shouts and jeers arose, and cries of \u201cPut\nhim out! Down with him!\u201d\n\n\u201cTouch me if you dare!\u201d he said, facing them, and lifting his cane.\nThey stood aside, and he walked out, and went home, not very well\npleased.\n\n\n                            CHAPTER XVI.\n\n                BY THEIR FRUITS YE SHALL KNOW THEM.\n\n\nMr. Yorke went home from that first town-meeting, and opened his\nBolingbroke to look for a sedative. He found this: \u201cThe incivilities I\nmeet with from opposite parties have been so far from rendering me        163\nviolent or sour to any, that I think myself obliged to them all. Some\nhave cured me of fears, by showing me how impotent the world is;\nothers have cured me of hope, by showing how precarious popular\nfriendships are. All have cured me of surprise.\u201d\n\nMr. Yorke readjusted his glasses, and read the passages a second time;\nbut it was not the sedative he wanted. There was something the matter\nwith Bolingbroke; his was a worldly and selfish philosophy; and it\nwas, moreover, a discouraging one; for the reader wished to believe\nthat it was possible to awaken and keep alive in the popular mind an\nenthusiasm for justice. Mr. Yorke was not aware that in this warfare\nhe had drawn nearer to God, and that what he missed in his old\nfavorite was that final, heavenly motive which, running like a golden\nchain through the simplest human actions, strings them into jewels,\nlacking which the noblest human thoughts and deeds crumble like sand\non the sea-shore.\n\nClosing his book with a feeling of disappointment, his thought glanced\ndown to later times, and he remembered a noble sentiment uttered by\none whom he admired, indeed, but half-unwillingly--one of the purest\nand most heroic men of our time, a man who lacks nothing but faith.\n\n\u201cWith God, one is a majority!\u201d said Wendell Phillips.\n\nThe thought came down on Mr. Yorke\u2019s heart like a hammer upon an\nanvil, and sent sparks up into his eyes and brain.\n\n\u201cI take back all that I have said against that man,\u201d he exclaimed,\nstarting up and walking to and fro. \u201cA man who has a vision of\nabsolute honesty cannot help being impatient of policy. Strong\nconviction never is, never can be, tolerant.\u201d He ran his fingers\nthrough his hair as he paced the room, and combed it up on end. He\nwould have liked to go directly back to the town-hall, and perhaps\nwould have done so but for the probability that it was now dark and\nempty.\n\n\u201cIt is not pleasant to be insulted by such people,\u201d he muttered; \u201cbut\nit would be still less pleasant to think that the rascals could\nsilence me. I will be heard at the next meeting,\n\n    \u2018Though hell itself should gape,\n     And bid me hold my peace.\u2019\u201d\n\nIt was some time before Mr. Yorke had the opportunity he desired,\nthough scarcely a day passed in which he did not speak some word for\nthe truth. There was no other town-meeting that summer. The people\ncontented themselves with the weekly scandalous battery of the\n_Seaton Herald_, and with a small domestic persecution. A few pious\nchurch-members were especially active. This was a kind of missionary\nlabor which suited them well, for it gave the pretext of zeal to their\nbigotry and uncharitableness. If a lady could have persuaded her Irish\nservant-girl to eat meat on Friday, she would have gloried in the\ntriumph.\n\n\u201cI will not eat of flesh on the day when the flesh of Jesus Christ was\nhacked and mangled for the sins of the world,\u201d said one faithful girl.\n\n\u201cBut nobody knows on what day of the week he died,\u201d the mistress\nurged. \u201cThat is one of the lies of your priests. Now, Bridget\u201d--laying\na gold half-eagle on the table--\u201cthis money shall be yours if you will\neat that piece of meat.\u201d\n\nThe servant looked at her mistress with that dignity which a scorn of\nmeanness can give to the lowliest. \u201cMrs. Blank,\u201d she said, \u201cyou remind\nme of the devil tempting our Saviour when he was fasting.\u201d\n\nThe temptation and the occasion were trivial, but they called out the     164\nspirit of the martyrs.\n\nCold weather seemed to cool the zeal of the Know-Nothings; but with\nanother spring it kindled again, making the Catholic school its\nprincipal point of attack. Anonymous letters were written to the\nteacher, threatening her if she did not give it up. The _Herald_\ncontained, week after week, insulting and scarcely veiled references\nto her; and the children could not go through the streets unmolested.\nBut no notice was taken of these annoyances, and the school prospered\nin spite of them. The children came unfailingly, not, perhaps, without\nfear, but certainly without yielding to fear. They were deeply\nimpressed by the position in which they found themselves. All their\nchildish gayety deserted them. They gathered and talked quietly,\ninstead of playing; they drew shyly away without answering when the\nProtestant children attacked them. \u201cKeep out of their way, and never\nanswer back,\u201d was the charge constantly repeated in the ears of these\nlittle confessors of the faith, and they obeyed it perfectly. Dear\nchildren! may they never lose in later years that faith by which they\nsuffered so early in life. Herewith, one who watched and admired their\nconstancy sends them loving greeting.\n\nWhen the first examination for prizes took place in this school, Mr.\nYorke was present, and made an address; and when it was over, he and\nFather Rasle walked away together.\n\n\u201cI am obliged to go away, to be gone a month,\u201d the priest said. \u201cI\nmust go to-night. But I do not like to leave my flock to the wolves.\nThere is no help for it, though. The bishop wishes to see me at\nBrayon, and I must visit the Indians on Oldtown Island.\u201d\n\n\u201cI advise you, sir, to go as quietly as you can, and let no one see\nyou go or know that you are going,\u201d Mr. Yorke said.\n\nFather Rasle looked surprised. \u201cWhy, you do not imagine that any\nperson would molest me?\u201d\n\n\u201cI do not imagine, but I am sure that the Know-Nothings would do\nanything,\u201d was the reply. \u201cIt is not safe to give them an opportunity\nfor mischief.\u201d\n\nStill the priest looked incredulous.\n\n\u201cI cannot see why they should touch me,\u201d he said. \u201cI have done nothing\nto provoke them. They insult us, they tell lies, and I do not resent\nit. Do you know the stories that have been brought to me this week? I\nfind them amusing.\u201d He laughed pleasantly. \u201cSee how they represent the\nchurch! A Catholic man, they say, wanted to steal a hundred dollars.\nNow, to take so much at once would be a mortal sin; but to steal ten\ncents would be only a venial sin. So my brave Catholic steals ten\ncents, and, after a week, ten cents more, and so on, till he has the\nhundred dollars. By this means, he secures his money, and is guilty\nonly of a thousand venial sins, which he gets forgiveness for by\ngiving the priest fifty dollars. That is one of Mr. John Conway\u2019s\nstories. Here is another that was published in the _Herald_, with my\nname and the others in full. You know that Mrs. Mary O\u2019Conner\u2019s\nhusband lately died in California. Well, the _Herald_ says that the\npoor widow came to me, weeping and lamenting that she had not even the\nconsolation of seeing her husband\u2019s grave; and I told her that, for\nthirty dollars, I would have him buried here. She had saved thirty\ndollars, earned by washing, and she brought it to me. Three days\nafter, I told her that her husband\u2019s body had been miraculously\nbrought, and I pointed out the spot where it was buried, down here        165\nbehind the church. But I warned her that she must not dig there, as it\nwould be a sacrilege, and that, if she did, the body would disappear.\nHere\u2019s another: Patrick Mulligan confesses some sin to me, and, for a\npenance, I tell him to give himself twenty-five blows with the\ndiscipline. Patrick goes home, gets ready for his penance, and\nsuddenly remembers that he has no discipline. It is late at night. He\nputs his head out the window, and sees that Mrs. Mahony, next door,\nhas forgotten to take in her clothes-line, and a fine new clothes-line\nit is. Pat blesses the saints, creeps down-stairs, steals the\nclothes-line, and, going back, cuts it up into a beautiful discipline.\nAfter he has piously beaten himself, he burns the cord all up, that he\nmay not be known as a thief, goes to bed with a clear conscience, and\nsleeps the sleep of the just.\n\n\u201cNow, sir,\u201d the priest concluded, \u201cit is not likely that I am to be\nattacked for such stories as that. Of course, no sensible person\nbelieves them; or, if people should doubt, they can easily find out\nthe truth.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe truth, my dear sir, is precisely what they do not wish to find\nout,\u201d Mr. Yorke replied. \u201cThey want to be exasperated, and, since you\nwill not afford them a pretext, they will welcome any lie, and no\nquestions asked. Moreover, you are not to think that such slanders\noriginate with the low only, and influence only the low. I came upon a\nbook the other day written by Catherine Beecher. You have heard of the\nBeechers, of course? The title was _Truth Stranger than Fiction: a\nNarrative_, she calls it, _of Recent Transactions involving Inquiries\nin regard to the principles of Honor, Truth, and Justice which obtain\nin a distinguished American University_. That university is in\nConnecticut; and the affair was one which created a good deal of stir\namong the Protestant clergy a few years ago. Miss Beecher seems to\nprove clearly in her book that certain eminent doctors of divinity,\nand professors, with ladies of their families, ruined the reputation\nof a distinguished and innocent woman. But what does Miss Beecher\nherself do, in the preface to this very book wherein she appears as\nthe champion of \u2018honor, truth, and justice,\u2019 spelt with capital\nletters? She goes out of her way to speak of the Catholic clergy, and\nasserts that, since their ministrations are efficacious, no matter\nwhat their characters may be, \u2018there is no special necessity, on this\naccount, to limit admissions to this office to those only who are\nvirtuous and devout.\u2019 Now, the sentence is artfully worded to evade\nthe charge of slander; but almost all non-Catholics interpret it, as\nthe writer wished they should, to mean that, in ordaining a Catholic\npriest, it is not considered of any consequence whether he is a man of\ngood character or not. It has been so interpreted by every person whom\nI have asked to read it. I give you another instance: Doctor Martin\ntook upon himself to send Edith some anti-Catholic books, which I\nreturned to him without letting her see them. I glanced into one, and\nfound it divided into paragraphs, each containing a charge against\nyour church, illustrated by an anecdote. I read one paragraph, headed\n_A Church without a Holy Ghost_. Of course, you were charged with not\nbelieving in sanctification; and the anecdote was of a man who became\na Protestant after having been a Catholic forty years. When his new\nteachers told him of the Holy Ghost, he exclaimed, \u2018Holy Ghost! What\nis that? I have been in the Catholic Church forty years, and I never      166\nheard of a Holy Ghost.\u2019 Now, sir, this, of course, seems to you\nidiotic; but a Protestant doctor of divinity keeps such books, and\ngives them to people to read, and repeats such falsehoods in his\nsermons. You see what you have to expect.\u201d\n\n\u201cShall I, then, publish a card denying the truth of these stories?\u201d\nFather Rasle asked, with an expression of face which showed his\ndistaste for the task.\n\n\u201cNo one will read it if you do,\u201d was the reply. \u201cYou must leave all to\ntime. At present, for you to be accused is to be condemned. Who was\nit--Montesquieu?--who says, \u2018If you are accused of having stolen the\ntowers of Notre Dame, bolt at once\u2019? That is your case. Whatever they\nmay charge you with, consider yourself convicted.\u201d\n\nThey had by this time reached the priest\u2019s house, a little cottage\nclose to the corner of the two streets. Mr. Yorke declining an\ninvitation to enter, they leaned on the gate a few minutes to finish\ntheir talk.\n\n\u201cYou must not judge our country by what you see here,\u201d Mr. Yorke said.\n\u201cWhat you complain of is merely the abuse of a good gift. A priest of\nyour church has expressed himself very well concerning these\ndifficulties. \u2018It always pains me, in such periods,\u2019 he says, \u2018to hear\nmen express doubt concerning our institutions. As for me, I would\nrather suffer from the license of freedom than the oppression of\nauthority. War is better than a false peace; riot better than\nservitude; heresy better than indifference. But none of these things,\u2019\nhe adds, \u2018is to my liking. And may the good God preserve us from them\nall!\u2019 That was Father John, an American priest.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! I know him,\u201d Father Rasle said brightly. \u201cI happened to travel\nonce in his company. We were in a steamboat, and some minister entered\ninto controversy with him. Catholic Christianity degrades the man, the\nminister said. The Catholic cannot hold any communication with God. If\nhe should be cast away on a desert island, he would be without God.\nAll must come to him through the church. He has in himself no power to\nreflect the divine motions. \u2018You mistake,\u2019 says Father John; \u2018and I\ncan show by a familiar figure; Suppose that every man in the world\nshould insist that his timepiece was correct, and should refuse to\nregulate it by any other. Of course, the chronometers would all wag\ntheir several ways, no two alike, and there would be a ceaseless\nwrangling as to what was the time of day, and every man would think\nthat he carried the sun in his pocket. To the dogs with the meridian\nand the almanac! my watch is right! That is Protestantism. Now, the\nCatholic has his spiritual dial also; but since he knows that it is a\nfallible instrument, he keeps it regulated by the great clock of the\nchurch. The consequence is truth and harmony. Every Catholic\nconscience ticks alike; and, when the meridian-gun of the great\nregulator is fired, every man says, \u2018It\u2019s twelve o\u2019clock. Amen!\u2019\u201d\n\nMr. Yorke\u2019s warning was well-timed, for the event proved that Father\nRasle would scarcely have been allowed to leave the town without\nmolestation had it been known that he was going. No one knew it,\nhowever, but the priest\u2019s housekeeper, Mr. Yorke, and the man who\ndrove him over to Brayon that night.\n\n\u201cI do not think that any precaution was needed,\u201d Father Rasle said to\nhis companion, as they drove through the dewy woods by starlight. \u201cBut\nsince it was as easy to come away quiet, why, I have. I have no wish      167\nor right to throw my life away.\u201d\n\nMr. Yorke did not know what had happened till Patrick told him the\nnext morning. The crowd had gathered in the streets, it appeared, and\ntaken their usual promenade up Irish Lane, with the usual result. No\none came out or answered them, and they could not see a face in the\nwindows, even. But if the patience of the Irish was not worn out, that\nof their persecutors was. Since they could not provoke an attack, they\nwould make one. From Irish Lane they had marched to the priest\u2019s\nhouse, arming themselves with stones and brickbats.\n\n\u201cThere isn\u2019t a whole window left in the house, sir,\u201d said Patrick;\n\u201cand there\u2019s a stone lying on Father Rasle\u2019s bed, where it was thrown\nthrough the window, that would have killed him if he had been there,\nas they thought he was.\u201d\n\nWe trust that certain expressions which Mr. Yorke made use of on\nhearing this story will not be remembered against him on the day of\nfinal reckoning. They were not pious expressions, nor mild, nor,\nindeed, very polished ones; but they were strong. He put on his hat\nwith an emphasis which left a large dent in the crown, refused to take\nany breakfast, and started for the town.\n\n\u201cWhat does he mean to do?\u201d cried his wife, wringing her hands. \u201cI must\ngo after him. Oh! if Carl were here. Girls, it is of no use to oppose\nme. I must know what goes on.\u201d\n\nThe breakfast was left untouched, and the whole household gathered\nabout the mother, coaxing and soothing her. Patrick should go down,\nthey said, and keep his master in view.\n\n\u201cWhat protection would an Irish Catholic be to him?\u201d cried the lady.\n\nBetsey would go, she declared, standing with arms akimbo and her\nfierce head raised. She would like to see the man that would stand in\nher way when she was roused!\n\nBut, no; Betsey was too pugilistic. If Mr. Yorke were to see her, he\nwould be irritated. Some one more conciliating and politic was wanted.\n\nClara cut the matter short by appearing in walking dress. She would go\ndown and see what the trouble was, and send a messenger home\nimmediately.\n\nMeantime, Mr. Yorke was in no danger whatever. People were, indeed,\nmore good-natured than usual after the success of the night before. He\nencountered mocking smiles, but no threats. His first visit was to one\nof the selectmen. \u201cWhat are you going to do with the rascals who broke\nFather Rasle\u2019s windows, last night?\u201d he demanded, without any ceremony\nof greeting.\n\nThe man assumed an air of pompous indifference. \u201cI do not propose to\ndo anything,\u201d he said. \u201cIf they were brought before me, as a justice,\nI should try them. But I am not called on to take any step in the\nmatter.\u201d\n\n\u201cPerhaps you were one of them,\u201d Mr. Yorke said bitterly.\n\nThe man\u2019s face reddened. \u201cI shall not take any notice of your\ninsults,\u201d he said. \u201cIt is well known that those windows were broken by\na few rowdies who cannot be found out. The town is not responsible for\nthem. And even if they were known, the feeling of the community is\nsuch that they would not be punished. People are so much excited\nagainst the abuses of popery, and the interference of the priest in\nour public schools, that they are willing to see every Catholic driven    168\nout of the town.\u201d\n\nIf there was ever a moment in Mr. Yorke\u2019s life when he regretted being\na gentleman, it would be safe to say that this was that moment. To\ntalk with such a man was folly. But if some muscular Christian had\nentered the scene opportunely, and applied to the town-officer\u2019s back\na score or so of such logical conclusions as he was fitted to\nunderstand, or had enlightened his cranium by propounding to it an\nargument from an unanswerable fist, Mr. Yorke would, doubtless, have\nleft the office with a smile of serene satisfaction, and a conviction\nthat the dramatic proprieties had been sustained. No such person\nappearing, he went away with anything but an amiable expression.\n\nHis next visit was to the Rev. John Conway. The minister had just\nfinished his breakfast, and came into the room with a comfortable,\ndeliberate air, rather exasperating to a man who was not only\nindignant, but fasting. His guarded look showed that he expected an\nattack.\n\nBy an effort, Mr. Yorke greeted him courteously, then began: \u201cI come,\nsir,\u201d he said, \u201cto ask you to raise your voice and use your influence\nto put a stop to such outrages as were committed last night, and bring\nthe perpetrators of that to punishment.\u201d\n\nMr. Conway seated himself with dignity, cast down his eyes, puckered\nhis mouth accurately, put the tips of his right-hand fingers to the\ntips of his left-hand fingers in an argumentative manner, and spoke\nslowly and solemnly:\n\n\u201cI am sorry that any violence has been done. But when a community\nbecomes incensed by encroachments which threaten their most sacred\ninterests, and when they find that the laws are not stringent enough\nto afford them security from an insidious foe, we cannot expect that\nthey will act with that calmness and deliberation which is to be\ndesired. I deprecate--\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are not in your pulpit preaching to blockheads!\u201d Mr. Yorke burst\nforth. \u201cI came here to talk common sense.\u201d\n\nA cold glimmer showed under the minister\u2019s lower eyelids, and a flush\nwent over his face; but he had more self-control than his visitor, or\nhe had not that sense of outraged justice and decency which, to that\nvisitor\u2019s mind, made forbearance a vice, consequently he said nothing\nfor a moment. There was, indeed, no more to be said. Mr. Yorke rose\nand went to the door, but stopped there. Though appeal was vain,\nwarning might not be.\n\n\u201cI warn you, sir,\u201d he said--\u201cI, a Protestant--that your course is not\nonly dishonest, but impolitic. You are working so as to secure the\nfinal triumph of those you hate, and to bring about your own ruin.\nThese anti-Catholic mobs are not Protestant, except as they protest\nagainst all religious restraint. They hate Catholicism most, simply\nbecause it is the strongest religion. You ministers think, perhaps,\nthat you use them; but you mistake. They use you, and they despise\nyou. They speak you fair now, because you stand between them and the\nlaw and give them a certain respectability. Indeed, their only power\nis derived from you. But when they shall have crushed Catholicism, if\nthey ever do, they will have the same weapons you have placed in their\nhands against you. Do not hope that by the course you are taking you\nare going to make Baptist, or Congregational, or Methodist\nchurch-members; you are going to make infidels.\u201d\n\nA sense of the utter uselessness of his mission had restored Mr. Yorke    169\nto calmness. He spoke firmly, but without any excitement, and, having\nended, left the house, and walked quietly homeward. Clara, coming down\nEast Street, and looking anxiously right and left, saw him, and dodged\nout of sight. With her foot propped on a door-step, she made a\nwriting-desk of her knee, hastily pencilling a line to her mother.\nWhile she wrote, three several families peeped and wondered at her\nthrough their blinds. She looked about for an Irish boy--saw one, and\nsent him with her message.\n\n\u201cRun like the wind till you come in sight of the house,\u201d she charged\nhim, \u201cbut walk slowly up the avenue, or they will think that you bring\nbad news, and be frightened.\u201d\n\n\u201cAll right, mamma!\u201d Clara had written. \u201cEverybody I meet is as quiet\nand innocent-looking as a cat that has been stealing cream. I saw papa\nthis minute; I am going up to see Hester, and will be back before\ndinner.\u201d\n\nMrs. Yorke kissed and feasted the boy who brought the news; Melicent\nsearched for old clothes, and sent him home with garments enough to\nlast him a year, and both nearly cried over him, \u201cPoor little\npersecuted dear!\u201d Betsey bestowed on him a pie, and the two Pattens,\nhaving nothing of their own to give, stole each of them a cucumber,\nwhich they slyly slipped into his pocket. People who lived with the\nYorkes always thought as the Yorkes did. There was never more than one\nparty in their house. Their domestics were partisans, their dependents\nadorers.\n\nEdith went out into the garden, and gathered some flowers for the lad,\ntalking with him meanwhile. It was a calm June day--after a\nrain-storm. The sky had started to clear away--got so far that there\nwas nothing left but a pearly fleck of cloud that just netted the\nsunshine--then had forgotten all about itself. A lovely, dreamy\nsoftness overhung the scene, and the drops of rain that lay on every\nleaf and flower shone, but did not flash.\n\nThe boy gazed at Edith with admiration. Her head was bare, and she\nwore a blue dress, with loose sleeves, and a little crisp white ruffle\nclose around the throat. She stood on tiptoe, and stretched her arms\nto reach a branch of red roses. As she caught it, a shower of drops\nfell over her head and face. \u201c_Asperges me!_\u201d she whispered.\n\n\u201cOh! she\u2019s real pretty,\u201d the boy said afterward to his mother. \u201cShe\nhas dimples in her elbows just like baby.\u201d\n\nWhen the wreath was made, Edith hung it round the child\u2019s neck, his\narms being full, and walked down to the gate with him. \u201cTry to be a\nlittle saint, and not be angry, no matter what may be said to you,\u201d\nshe said. \u201cIf you are afraid, say the \u2018We fly to thy patronage, O holy\nMother of God,\u2019 and she will take care of you. Good-by, dear.\u201d\n\nShe leaned on the gate, and looked after him. Her cheeks were as red\nas the roses she had gathered, and her expression was not, as\nformerly, one of sunny calmness. She was as quiet in manner and speech\nas ever, but it was the quiet of a strong and vivid nature fully\nawake, but not fully satisfied, perplexed, yet self-controlled. So\nmuch had happened to her in the last year! She had been called away\nsuddenly from childhood, and study, and vague, bright dreams to\nconfront a positive and quite unexpected reality. Unless she should\nmake a vow never to marry, then she was to marry Dick Rowan, that was\nher conclusion; and having once made up her mind in that respect, she     170\nthought as little about it as possible. Perhaps her only definite\nthought was that Dick might have waited awhile before speaking, and\nlet her study more; for study had now become impossible. She wanted to\nbe in continual motion, to have work and change. A deep and steady\nexcitement burned in her cheeks, her eyes, her lips. Her piety,\ninstead of being tender and tranquil, had grown impassioned. To die\nfor the faith, to suffer torments for it, to be in danger, that seemed\nto her desirable. She almost regretted that she had home and friends\nto bind her. If she were still with Mrs. Rowan, in the little house\nthat was under that clay-bank, then she would be free, and perhaps\nthey would kill her. She had scarcely been to Mass that year without\nthinking how glorious it would be if a mob would break in and kill\nthem all. Her imagination hovered ceaselessly over this subject.\n\nSeeing her uncle coming, she waited for him. \u201cWe must make up our\nminds that we have not seen the worst that they will do, little girl,\u201d\nhe said. \u201cThere is no law.\u201d\n\nShe smiled involuntarily.\n\n\u201cWhy, are you pleased at that?\u201d he exclaimed.\n\n\u201cThere might be a worse fate than dying for one\u2019s faith, Uncle\nCharles,\u201d she said, clasping her hands over his arms.\n\nHe laughed, and patted her cheek. \u201cIs that your notion?\u201d he asked. \u201cIf\nit is, remember that I have a word to say about it. I shall fight hard\nbefore you are made a martyr of. I see what you have been\nreading--Crashaw\u2019s _St. Theresa_:\n\n    \u2018Farewell, house, and farewell, home:\n     She\u2019s for the Moors and martyrdom.\u2019\n\nDo I guess and quote rightly, mademoiselle?\u201d\n\nShe only smiled in reply. But well she knew that she had been reading\nfrom a deeper book than Crashaw.\n\nA few nights after, the Catholic school-house was blown up with\ngunpowder, and left a perfect wreck. \u201cOf course!\u201d said Mr. Yorke.\n\n\u201cThe teacher has taken the children into the galleries of the church,\u201d\nPatrick said.\n\n\u201cThe church will be destroyed, then,\u201d replied his master.\n\nIt was not destroyed altogether at once, however, but every window in\nit was broken. This was done in broad daylight, just after a summer\nsunset.\n\nMr. Yorke put himself before the mob, entreating them to forbear, even\ntrying to push back the foremost ones, but without avail. \u201cDon\u2019t\nlisten to him! His niece is a Catholic,\u201d they cried. \u201cTo the church!\u201d\n\nTwo or three gentlemen drove up in their buggies, and sat at a safe\ndistance while the work of destruction went on, and several women\nlingered on the outskirts of the crowd. In a neighboring street, out\nof sight, Edith Yorke stood with Clara, and listened to the sound of\nbreaking glass. For a moment, natural indignation overcame piety in\nher heart. \u201cOh! if I were a thousand men on horseback,\u201d she exclaimed.\n\u201cI\u2019d like to ride them down, and trample them under foot!\u201d Then the\nnext moment, \u201cOh! how wicked I am!\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are not wicked!\u201d Clara said angrily. \u201cI won\u2019t have you talk such\nnonsense.\u201d\n\nClara was in that state of mind when she must scold somebody.\n\nOf course the authorities took no notice of this affair. The teacher\nhad the glass reset, and continued her school. Mr. Yorke wrote to\nFather Rasle, advising him not to return to Seaton for a while, and a\nlull succeeded.\n\nAnd now the Yorkes took breath, and felt not quite alone, for Carl was\ncoming home, and Dick Rowan would soon be there, and Captain Cary was\ncoming down.\n\n                          TO BE CONTINUED.\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n     THE STIGMATA AND ECSTASIES OF LOUISE LATEAU OF BOIS D\u2019HAINE.         171\n\n\nSince the days of St. Francis of Assisium, whose life in the\nthirteenth century was one constant succession of marvels, the\noccasional appearance upon favored individuals of the stigmata,[45]\nand the occurrence of ecstatic visions, have excited the deepest\ninterest in devout minds.\n\nTo the eye of faith, these departures from the ordinary laws of\nnature, like the miracles which God has vouchsafed in all ages of the\nchurch, have seemed fresh and brilliant illustrations of this divine\npower. To the purely scientific mind they have presented inexplicable\nphenomena, which, being irreconcilable with natural laws, have been\neither openly derided or attributed to pious fraud.\n\nNor can the physiologist be harshly blamed for scepticism in this\ndirection, for history teems with the records of epidemics of\nreligious enthusiasm, in which fanaticism had led its victims to claim\nrepeated ecstatic visions of God, and to be the recipients of\nsupernatural revelations. The descriptions transmitted to us of the\nPietists and Illuminati in Germany, of the French and English Shakers,\nthe Welsh Jumpers, and many others of the sects to which the\nReformation gave birth, abound in instances of these ecstatic\noutbreaks.\n\nThe visions of Swedenborg, as related in his _Arcana C\u0153lestia_, and in\nthe numerous biographies[46] of this extraordinary person, are well\nknown; and among similar claimants to supernatural experience,\nArnold\u2019s description of John Engelbrecht[47] is one of the most\ncurious and interesting.\n\nIn Hecker\u2019s _Epidemics of the Middle Ages_ is given a full account of\nthe \u201cConvulsionnaires of St. M\u00e9dard,\u201d so-called from the cemetery of\nSt. M\u00e9dard in Paris, where a noted Jansenist deacon was buried in\n1727. The fanatical excitement of his followers first showed itself in\npilgrimages and reported miraculous cures at his grave, to which they\ngradually flocked in great numbers, many becoming convulsed with\nterrible contortions, jumping, shouting, rolling on the ground,\nspinning around with incredible velocity, running their heads against\nwalls, while others preached fanatical harangues or pretended to be\ngifted with _clairvoyance_. For more than fifty years these scandalous\nexhibitions continued, Convulsionism growing into a distinct sect in\nspite of the efforts of the government to suppress it, until swept out\nof existence by the greater excitement of the French Revolution.\n\nIn many of these cases, the supposition of intentional fraud was\ndoubtless well founded; in others, the ecstatics were themselves the\nunconscious dupes of their own fanaticism. To appreciate the cautious\nscrutiny with which the church, however, sifts pretensions of this\nnature in any of her children, the reader need only consult the lives     172\nof such saints as have been thus favored.[48]\n\nThe psychological condition or state which is somewhat vaguely termed\necstasy has always possessed peculiar interest both for the theologian\nand the physician; and, although numerous definitions of it have been\nattempted, it is extremely difficult to convey to the general reader a\nclear idea of its distinctive nature. The word itself usually\nsignifies a condition in which the mind and soul is transferred, or\nplaced out of its usual state.\n\nSt. Augustine called it \u201ca transport, by which the soul is separated\nand, as it were, removed to a distance from the bodily senses,\u201d and,\nfollowing this definition, Ambrose Par\u00e9, the father of French surgery,\nterms it \u201ca reverie with rapture of the mind, as if the soul were\nparted from the body.\u201d St. Bonaventure, the contemporary and\nbiographer of St. Francis of Assisium, says that ecstasy \u201cis an\nelevation of the soul to that source of divine love which surpasses\nhuman understanding, an elevation by which it is separated from the\nexterior man.\u201d St. Thomas Aquinas, Cardinal Bona, and other\ntheological writers give similar definitions; while among medical\nauthorities, Briquet, J. Franck, B\u00e9rard, Thomas King Chambers,\nGuislain of Brussels, Clymer, Gratiolet, and many others describe its\nsymptoms and discuss its pathological relations.\n\nWell-marked ecstasy and the stigmata have but seldom been united in\nthe same individual, and still more rarely have these extraordinary\nmanifestations been subjected to the searching tests of science.\n\nIt will not, then, be amiss to present the readers of this magazine\nwith a brief description of the most notable illustration in recent\ntimes of these marvellous phenomena, as the case has acquired a\nEuropean celebrity, attracting the scrutiny of many savants, and\nforming the subject of an interesting memoir[49] by a professor in the\nBelgian University of Louvain. From his description of the facts,\nwhich he was officially appointed to investigate in their scientific\nbearings, we shall condense the following account.\n\nIn the rich and industrial province of Hainault, in Belgium, is\nsituated the village of Bois d\u2019Haine, about midway between the towns\nof Charleroi and Mons. It is mainly composed of cottages occupied by\nworkmen in the neighboring manufactories; and in one of the poorest of\nthese Louise Lateau, the subject of this notice, was born January 30,\n1850.\n\nShe is the youngest of three children, all daughters; and their\nparents were poor working people, strong and ordinarily healthy, and\nnever subject to any nervous h\u00e6morrhagic disease. The mother is still\nliving and in good health; the father died during an epidemic of\nsmall-pox at the age of twenty-eight. Louise, then two and a half\nmonths old, contracted this disease from her father, but made a rapid\nrecovery. The family continued to struggle on in poverty, the\nchildren\u2019s food being poor and scant--\u201cplusque frugal,\u201d says Dr.\nLefebvre--but they nevertheless grew up robust and healthy. When only\neight, Louise was placed in the temporary care of a poor old woman in\nthe neighborhood, while the latter\u2019s son was engaged in outdoor work.\nA little later she was sent to school for five months, learning her       173\ncatechism and a little reading and writing. In her twelfth year,\nhaving made her first communion, she entered the service of her\ngreat-aunt, who lived at Manage, near Bois d\u2019Haine, in a certain\ndegree of comfort. In this position she displayed great activity and\ndevotion to her duties, giving herself up day and night to the service\nof her relative, who died in a year or two. She then entered the\nservice of a respectable lady in Brussels, where she remained only\nseven months on account of an illness, the nature of which is not\ndescribed; after this she obtained another place in Manage, where, as\nbefore, she left behind her the reputation of devoted courage, of\npatient toil, humble and quiet piety, and charity for the poor.\n\nAbout the beginning of 1867, she became more feeble in health without\nbeing exactly ill or obliged to suspend her customary work. She lost\nappetite and color, suffered from severe neuralgic pains in the head,\nand her skin assumed the greenish-white hue that always indicates\nimpoverishment of the blood. This had been aggravated by a severe\nattack of quinsy; and on several occasions, during the early part of\nApril of this year, she spat blood, the source of which (whether from\nlungs or stomach) could not be decided.\n\nFor an entire month she now became constantly weaker, taking almost\nnothing during this time but water and the medicines prescribed for\nher. The exhaustion increased to such a degree that her death was\nthought imminent, and on the 15th of April the last sacraments were\nadministered. She now suddenly improved, and so rapidly that, on the\n21st of April, she was able to walk to Mass at the parish church,\nthree-quarters of a mile distant. This apparently remarkable cure was\nthe first incident that attracted public notice to her case; crowds of\npeople coming to see her as an object of curiosity.\n\nThis period may be viewed as her turning point from girlhood into a\nwoman; and, at her then age of eighteen, she is described as being\nslightly below the middle height, with full face, very little color, a\nfine delicate skin, light hair, clear, soft blue eyes, a small mouth,\nand very white well-shaped teeth.\n\nHer expression is intelligent and agreeable, and her general health is\ngood, and free from any scrofulous or other constitutional taint. She\nhas always worked hard, and exhibited considerable physical endurance.\nMentally she is represented as unemotional, lacking in imagination, by\nno means bright, but of good, strong common sense, artless,\nstraightforward, and devoid of enthusiasm. Her education is limited,\nalthough she has improved the elementary instruction received during\nher brief school term, speaking French with ease and some degree of\npurity, reading with difficulty, and writing very little, and\nincorrectly at that. Her moral character is honest, simple,\ntransparent. Dr. Lefebvre and others, who questioned her about her\necstatic visions, repeatedly tried to test her sincerity, but never\nsucceeded in making her contradict herself or tend in the least degree\nto exaggeration: nor could she ever be induced by her young friends to\ndiscuss her stigmata or visions, upon which she was equally reticent\nwith her friends and her family. Of a naturally gay and happy\ndisposition, she has shown in various circumstances much patience,\ndetermination, and courage. Amidst many domestic anxieties and\ntroubles, often losing her rest day and night during the illness of       174\nher relatives, and falsely accused by her mother (who seems to have\nbeen a person of difficult temper) of being the cause of all the\nfamily\u2019s misfortunes, she remained invariably calm and cheerful.\nAnother of her most striking traits was her charity for the poor;\n\u201cpoor herself, she loved to relieve the poor,\u201d and many instances are\nnarrated of her devotion to the sick and helpless during the cholera\nthat raged at Bois d\u2019Haine in 1866. From her infancy almost she was\nexceptionally devout, and her piety was always practical, and devoid\nof affectation and display. In her interior and religious life, as in\nher domestic duties, she was simple, earnest, and discreet.\n\nA recollection of these details of her character and antecedents is\nnecessary for the proper appreciation of the phenomena now to be\ndescribed. These are of two distinct kinds, having no connection but\ntheir accidental association in the same individual; and that they may\nbe more clearly understood, they will be considered separately, first\nthe stigmata, then the ecstatic trances, and, thirdly, the nature of\nthe evidence upon which the extraordinary facts rest.\n\n\n                         I.--THE STIGMATA.\n\nThe first occurrence of the bleeding was noticed by Louise on Friday,\nthe 24th of April, 1868, when she saw blood issuing from a spot on the\nleft side of the chest. With her habitual reserve, she mentioned it to\nno one. The next day it recurred at the same spot; and she, then also\nobserved blood on the top of each foot. She now confided it to her\ndirector, who, although thinking the circumstance extraordinary,\nreassured her and bade her keep the facts to herself. During the night\npreceding the second Friday following, May 8, blood oozed from the\nleft side and from both feet, and toward nine o\u2019clock in the morning\nit flowed freely from the back and palm of each hand. At this juncture\nit seemed impossible longer to keep the matter secret, and her\nconfessor directed Louise to consult a physician.\n\nRecognizing the medical character of the case, the periodical\nbleeding, and the ecstatic trances which subsequently occurred, the\nreligious authorities felt constrained to place its investigation in\nthe hands of a medical expert, and for this purpose called in the aid\nof Dr. Lefebvre. A more judicious choice could not have been made, as\nthis gentleman had long devoted himself to the study of nervous\naffections, and had passed fifteen years in medical charge of two\nhospitals for the insane, and in lecturing upon mental diseases in the\nUniversity of Louvain.\n\nOf the minuteness of his examination, and of his credibility as a\nwitness, each reader can judge for himself.\n\nIf, during the course of the week, from Saturday to Thursday morning,\nthe hands and feet be examined, the following facts are revealed: On\nthe back of each hand there is an oval patch about half an inch (two\nand a half centimetres) long, of a more rosy hue than the rest of the\nskin, dry and glistening on the surface. On the palm of each hand a\nsimilar oval patch was seen, equally red, and corresponding exactly\nwith the site of that on the back. On the sole and back of each foot\nare found similar marks, having the form of a parallelogram with\nrounded angles, nearly three-quarters of an inch (three centimetres)\nin length.\n\nOn examining these spots with a magnifying-glass of twenty diameters,\nthe epidermis (or superficial layer of the skin) is found to be thin      175\nbut unbroken, and through it the cutis (or true skin) can readily be\nseen.\n\nThe latter looks perfectly natural, except that the papill\u00e6, or little\nelevations in which terminate the nerves of touch, are slightly\natrophied and flattened, this giving rise to the glistening appearance\nof the surface. When any one of the stigmata has not bled for a week\nor two, the reddish discoloration disappears, and the papill\u00e6 resume\ntheir normal appearance. No permanent marks remain upon the forehead;\nand, except on Friday, the bleeding points cannot there be\ndistinguished. From a natural feeling of delicacy, the chest was only\nexamined during the ecstasy.\n\nThe first symptoms announcing the approaching bleeding usually appear\nabout noon on Thursday. Upon each of the rosy spots on the hands and\nfeet, a _bleb_, or little bladder, is seen to rise and slowly develop.\nThis exactly corresponds, when fully formed, with the size of the\npatch; and is filled with a transparent serous fluid, sometimes of a\nreddish tint in those on the soles of the feet and the palms of the\nhands. The bleb consists of the epidermis detached and elevated from\nthe true skin by the accumulating serous fluid. No swelling or redness\nis seen in the zone of skin immediately surrounding the bleb.\n\nThe bleeding nearly always begins between midnight and one A.M. on\nFriday, and it does not occur in all the stigmata at once, but in each\nsuccessively and in no regular order. Most commonly the flow begins\nfrom the side of the chest, then in succession from the stigmata on\nthe hands, feet, and forehead. A rent occurs in the raised cuticle,\nwhich is sometimes longitudinal, sometimes crucial or triangular: the\nserous fluid then escapes, and is immediately followed by blood,\nwhich oozes from the exposed papill\u00e6. Usually the flow of blood\ndetaches and washes away the shreds of epidermis, and the bleeding\nsurface is left uncovered; but sometimes on the palms of the hands and\nthe soles of the feet, where the epidermis is thicker, the blood\ncollects and clots in the bleb.\n\nAt each of his Friday visits, Dr. Lefebvre examined the stigma on the\nchest, which lay in the space between the fifth and sixth ribs,\nexternal to and a little below the centre of the left breast.[50]\n\nAt the first examination, which was made August 30, 1868, the bleeding\npoint showed no trace of a previous vesicle; the cuticle was not\ndetached, nor was the skin discolored, and the blood was seen to ooze\nfrom three little points almost imperceptible to the naked eye, and\nabout one centimetre apart. In three subsequent examinations a vesicle\nhad formed like those on the hands and feet; it had burst, and the\nblood oozed from a circular spot of the raw skin nearly a quarter of\nan inch in diameter.\n\nUpon four different occasions, blood was observed to be flowing from\nthe head. It was difficult to ascertain the condition of the skin\nunder the hair; but on the forehead no vesicle appeared, nor was there\nany apparent change in the color of the skin. The blood was seen to\nissue from twelve or fifteen minute points arranged in circular form\nupon the forehead. A bandage, of the breadth of two fingers, passing\naround the head equidistant from the eyebrows and the roots of the\nhair, would include the bleeding zone, which is slightly puffy and\npainful upon pressure. On examining these points with a magnifying        176\nlens, most of them looked like minute cuts in the skin, of triangular\nshape, as if made by the bite of microscopic leeches: others were\nsemilunar in shape, and some quite irregular.\n\nThe quantity of blood that flows through the stigmata each Friday is\nvariable. During the first months of the flow and before the\ncommencement of the ecstatic attack, it was abundant, and often lasted\ntwenty-four hours--from midnight to midnight--and it was estimated\nthat as much as one litre, or seven-eighths of a quart, was discharged\nfrom the nine wounds. An exact estimate of the amount was difficult,\nfrom the fact that most of the blood was absorbed by the cloths about\nthe chest and limbs. But, as the result of his personal observations,\nDr. Lefebvre states that at his first visit, August 30, 1868, both the\nduration and the quantity of the flow had already begun to diminish:\nbeginning at midnight, it stopped about four or five o\u2019clock the next\nafternoon; yet he counted on that day fourteen large linen cloths (the\nlargest being twenty inches by eight, and the smallest twenty inches\nby six) completely saturated. Besides this, the left foot was still\nenveloped during the ecstasy, and there was a pool of blood on the\nfloor as large as two hands. He thinks he rather understates the\namount of blood then lost if he estimates it at two hundred and fifty\ngrammes (a half-pint). This, however, he gives as the mean quantity\nlost, it being sometimes more and sometimes less.\n\nSometimes the bleeding ceased about midday, and two Fridays passed\nwithout any h\u00e6morrhage, the ecstasy occurring as usual. On one of\nthese occasions the stigmata remained unchanged, but on the other the\nusual vesicle formed, yielding a serous discharge of a delicate rose\ntint, but no blood. After this the usual bleeding resumed its regular\ncourse every Friday, and the bloody chaplet on the forehead, which at\nfirst appeared exceptionally, was now displayed each week.\n\nThe blood, which was carefully examined, had neither the scarlet tint\nof arterial nor the dark purple hue of venous blood, but was of a\nviolet red color, like that of the capillaries or minute vessels which\nunite the veins and arteries. It was of natural consistence, and\nclotted readily upon the cloths and upon the edges of the wound. With\ntwo of his colleagues who were expert in microscopy, Dr. Hairion,\nprofessor of hygiene and dermatology (the theory of skin diseases),\nand Dr. Van Kempen, professor of anatomy, Dr. Lefebvre made several\ncareful microscopic examinations of the blood, which showed a\nperfectly transparent plasma or blood fluid, with the red and white\ncorpuscles of ordinary blood in proper proportion.\n\nThe stigmata are manifestly painful; for, although the girl was\nextremely reluctant to speak of it, Dr. Lefebvre was satisfied, by\ncareful observation of her attitudes and expression before the\necstasies began, that she suffered acutely.\n\nThe bleeding stopped at different hours, as has been stated. On the\nfollowing day--Saturday--the stigmata were quite dry, with little\nscales of dried blood here and there on their surface. Not a trace of\nsuppuration ever occurred from the wounds; and the girl, who a few\nhours ago had much difficulty in using her hands or in standing on her\nfeet, is busily engaged with her morning household duties, or walking\na mile and a half to her devotions at the parish church.\n\n\n                     II.--THE ECSTATIC TRANCES.                           177\n\nThe weekly ecstasies of Louise Lateau began on Friday, July 17, 1868,\nthirteen weeks after the bleeding was first noticed, although the\ncurate of Bois d\u2019Haine, M. Niels, had noticed before this some\nfugitive attacks of unconsciousness. He discreetly avoided speaking of\nthem, however, and was careful not to discuss them even with Louise\nherself. No details of these transient attacks, which generally\noccurred during some of the great religious festivals of the previous\nyear, are given by Dr. Lefebvre, as he had no satisfactory evidence of\nthem, and was unwilling to trust the observations of others. The\nmarked ecstatic trances recurred every Friday after the date\nmentioned, generally about eight or nine o\u2019clock in the morning, and\nended about six in the afternoon, although sometimes lasting an hour\nlonger. Their duration is therefore from ten to eleven hours without\ninterruption; and they generally begin while the subject is occupied\nwith her devotions, although sometimes when she is in the midst of\nconversation, and occasionally while engaged at her work.\n\nOn Friday morning, Louise is accustomed to pass the time in prayer,\nthe tender and bleeding condition of the wounds on her hands rendering\nwork impossible. Her prayers are of the simplest character, consisting\ngenerally of the rosary. Seated on her chair, her hands wrapped in the\ncloths, and her manner calm and serene, suddenly her eyes become\nfixed, immovable, and the trance has begun. From his notes made on the\nspot, upon one of these occasions, Dr. Lefebvre transcribes the\nfollowing description: \u201cIt is half-past seven in the morning. I have\nbeen talking to Louise upon common topics, about her occupations, her\neducation, her health. She has answered my questions simply,\nprecisely, laconically. Her appearance is quiet and tranquil, her\ncolor natural, her skin cool, and the pulse seventy-two in the minute.\nAfter a while her conversation flags, and she answers more slowly. I\nsuddenly notice that she has become immovable, her eyes fixed and\nturned upward, and a little toward the right. The ecstasy has begun.\u201d\nIt is worth observing that the instant the eyes become fixed in\ncontemplation, the ecstatic state has commenced; after this the girl\nanswers no questions, and is quite insensible to external influences.\n\nDr. Imbert-Goubeyre, professor in the medical school of\nClermont-Ferrand, has also witnessed the commencement of the ecstasy\nunder like circumstances. His description is unnecessary.\n\nLastly, the ecstasy may begin while she is at her daily work. On\nAugust 13, 1869, Mgr. d\u2019Herbomez, the venerable Bishop of British\nColumbia, went to see Louise Lateau, reaching her house about eight\no\u2019clock in the morning. She was at work on her sewing-machine,\nalthough her hands and feet were bleeding freely, and the blood\ntrickled down from her forehead, cheeks, and neck upon the machine,\nwhich she evidently worked with the utmost pain. While the prelate was\nspeaking to her, the noise of the machine suddenly stopped, for she\nhad at once passed into the trance. A number of distinguished\necclesiastics, among them Professor Hallez of the Seminary of Tournay,\nhave witnessed a similar onset of the attacks.\n\nWhen once established, the course of the attack is thus described.\nDuring most of the trance, the girl sits on the edge of her chair, as\nmotionless as a statue, with the body bent slightly forward; the          178\nbleeding hands enveloped in cloths and resting upon her knees, the\neyes wide open and rigidly fixed as described. The expression of the\nface is that of rapt attention, and she seems lost in the\ncontemplation of some distant object. Her expression and attitude\nfrequently change, the features sometimes relaxing, the eyes becoming\nmoist, and a smile of happiness lighting up the mouth. Sometimes the\nlids droop and nearly veil the eyes, the brow contracts, and tears\nroll slowly down the cheeks: at times again she grows pale, her face\nwears an expression of the greatest terror, while she starts up with a\nsuppressed cry. The body sometimes slowly rotates, and the eyes move,\nas if following some invisible procession. At other times she rises\nand moves forward, standing on tiptoe with her hands stretched out,\nand either clasped or hanging open like the figures of the _Orantes_\nof the catacombs; while her lips move, her breathing is rapid and\npanting, her features light up, and her face, which before the ecstasy\nis quite plain, is transfigured with an ideal beauty. If to this be\nadded the sight of her stigmata: her head encircled with its bloody\nchaplet, whence the red current drops along her temples and cheeks,\nher small white hands stamped with a mysterious wound from which\nbloody lines emerge like rays--and this strange spectacle surrounded\nby people of all conditions, who are absorbed in respectful attention\nand interest--some idea may be gained of what Dr. Lefebvre often\nwitnessed at Bois d\u2019Haine.\n\nAbout half-past one o\u2019clock, she usually falls on her knees, with her\nhands joined and her body bent forward, while her face wears an\nexpression of the profoundest contemplation. She remains in this\nattitude about half an hour, then rises and resumes her seat. About\ntwo o\u2019clock the scene changes. She first leans a little forward, then\nrises--slowly at first, then more quickly--and, as if by some sudden\nmovement of projection, falls with her face to the ground. In this\nposition she lies upon her chest, the head resting upon the left arm,\nher eyes closed, her mouth half-open, her lower limbs stretched out\nand covered to the heels by her dress. At three o\u2019clock she makes a\nsudden movement: her arms are extended at right angles with the body\nin cross-like fashion, while the feet are crossed, the right instep\nresting on the sole of the left. She maintains this position until\nabout five o\u2019clock, when she suddenly starts up on her knees in the\nattitude of prayer. After a few minutes of profound absorption, she\nresumes her chair.\n\nThe ecstasy lasts until about six or seven o\u2019clock, the attitude and\nexpression of face varying according to the mental impressions, when\nit terminates in an appalling scene: The arms fall helpless alongside\nof the body, the head drops forward on the chest, the eyes close, the\nnose becomes pinched, while the face assumes the pallor of death: at\nthe same time the hands become icy cold, the pulse is quite\nimperceptible, a cold sweat covers the body, and the death-rattle\nseems to be heard in the throat. This condition lasts about fifteen\nminutes, when she revives. The bodily heat rises, the pulse returns,\nthe cheeks regain their color, but for some minutes more there hangs\nan indefinable expression of ecstasy about the face. Suddenly the\neyelids open, the features relax, the eyes look familiarly at\nsurrounding objects, and the ecstasy is over.\n\nIf the different phases of the paroxysm be carefully watched, it is\nevident that the intellect, far from being dormant, is very active;       179\nalthough the girl is quite unconscious of what is passing around her,\nshe remembers perfectly all her subjective sensations. Although\nextremely reluctant to discuss the subject, she was ordered by her\nspiritual directors to answer Dr. Lefebvre\u2019s questions, which she\ndid--briefly, but distinctly--to the following effect:\n\nWhen her ecstasy begins, she says she finds herself suddenly plunged\ninto a vast flood of light; figures more or less distinct soon appear,\nand several scenes of the Passion then pass successively before her.\nThese she minutely but briefly describes--with the appearance of the\nSaviour, his garments, wounds, crown of thorns, and cross. He never\naddresses her a word or even looks at her. She describes with the same\nclearness and precision the characters that surround him--the\napostles, the holy women, and the Jews.\n\nDr. Lefebvre has given a lucid exposition of the state of the\ndifferent organs during the several stages of the ecstasy, as well as\nof the chief points of interest of the paroxysm. During the first\nperiod--from eight o\u2019clock in the morning until two in the\nafternoon--Louise remains sitting in her chair, and her organic and\nfunctional condition changes but little. The skin is cool; the face\nretains its usual color; respiration is regular, and so calm that\nclose attention is needed to note the chest movement; the pulse is\nsoft and regular, beating about seventy-five in the minute.\nOccasionally the heart-beats are more rapid or slower than usual, and\nthe face flushes or becomes suddenly pale: these functional\nmodifications accord with the play of the features, and are evidently\nthe result of the varying impressions of the mind.\n\nFrom midday on Thursday, when she dines more sparingly than usual,\nuntil eight o\u2019clock on the Saturday morning, she tastes absolutely no\nfood or drink of any kind. She feels no need of either, and her\nstomach would not retain it if taken; for, several times, when ordered\nby her physician to take certain nourishment on Fridays, it has been\nswallowed without resistance, but at once rejected. In spite of this\ncomplete abstinence from drink, the tongue was always moist: the great\nexcretions of the body were suspended. Careful attention was directed\nto the condition of the nervous system, and especially to sensation\nand motion. To the touch, no tension or spasmodic contraction is\nperceptible in any of the muscles, and the girl executes no movements\nbut those required for the action of the scenes at which she assists.\nThus, at times, she sits up straight, her hands either clasped or\nhanging loosely, her lips relaxing into a smile, or her face drawn\ninto a frown. If her limbs be moved by a bystander, the result varies;\nsometimes they preserve the position given, as, when her arms are\nlifted up, they may retain the new position for nine or ten minutes,\nand then slowly relapse to their former place. But, if she is lifted\nto a standing position, great muscular relaxation is evident, and as\nsoon as the support is withdrawn she falls back into her chair. One\npeculiarity should here be noted: if any effort be made to change her\nposition during prosternation, when the arms are extended and the feet\ncrossed upon each other, a decided resistance is perceptible, and the\nextremities immediately resume their position.\n\nThe exercise of the special senses is completely suspended, as was\ntested by experiment. The eyes are widely open, the pupils dilated,\nthe lids quite immovable, except when the conjunctiva[51] is touched,     180\nwhich produces a slight winking or contraction of the lids. A bright\nlight or other object may be suddenly passed without effect before the\neyes, which gaze vacantly into space.\n\nThe sense of hearing is equally blunted, and insensible to ordinary\nsounds. On several occasions, a person standing behind her has shouted\nloudly into her ears without exciting the least evidence of being\nheard. Except upon the conjunctiva, as mentioned, general sensibility\nseems to be completely in abeyance. Numerous experiments were made to\ntest this fact.\n\nFor instance, the mucous membranes of the nose and ears were\nrepeatedly tickled with a feather without exciting any reflex\ncontraction; a strong solution of ammonia held under the nose produced\nno effect. The skin, being less sensitive than the mucous membranes,\nwas pricked with a needle, and a pin thrust through a fold of skin on\nthe hands and forearm; the point of a penknife was also driven into\nthe skin until it bled freely, without producing the faintest muscular\ncontraction or indication of sensibility.\n\nA still more decisive test was made with an electro-magnetic\nbattery,[52] the electrodes of which were placed on the front of the\nforearm where the skin is very thin and sensitive, and the strongest\npossible current passed through the muscles for more than a minute by\nthe watch without eliciting the least evidence of pain, and the\nelectric brush was equally powerless. The poles were likewise applied\nto different parts of the face, and violent and prolonged contractions\nof the facial muscles induced, but without the slightest winking or\nother sign of sensibility or suffering.\n\nSuch is the condition of the organic functions during the first part\nof the ecstasy, but some modifications are observed during the second.\nThus, while lying prostrate on the floor, the pulse becomes almost\nimperceptible, and an ordinary observer would fail to detect it at\nall, although Dr. Lefebvre was sure it never ceased to beat fully. Its\nfrequency was at the same time greatly increased; so that, when it\ncould be counted, it often rose to 120 or 130 in the minute. The\nmovements of respiration now become more and more feeble, and the\nclosest attention is needed to make sure that they exist, the\nrhythmical motion of the little shawl that covers her shoulders being\noften the only appreciable evidence that they are not totally\nsuspended.\n\nAnother remarkable fact, which is contrary to the general physical\nrule, is that the rate of the pulse and that of respiration are\ndirectly in an inverse proportion; both Dr. Lefebvre and Dr.\nImbert-Goubeyre having proved that, while the pulse rose from 90 to\n130 per minute, the respirations (normally averaging 20 to 25) sink to\n18 or even 10 in the same period. In proportion as the pulse and\nbreathing become feeble, the skin loses its natural temperature, and\nis bathed in a cold sweat. As was stated, reaction occurs in ten or\nfifteen minutes; the pulse regains its force and normal frequency,\nrespiration increases, and the natural standard of bodily heat is\nrestored. The ecstatic thus passes at once from her trance into her\nordinary life without any intermediate stage of transition. No\nheadache, stiffness of the joints, or other discomfort is complained\nof; the intellect is perfectly clear, the expression serene, the face     181\ncalm, and the body active. At this moment the pulse has been found\nregular, soft, and from 72 to 75 per minute; respiration of natural\nstrength, and 22 per minute, and the skin perfectly natural.\n\n\n                 III.--THE QUESTION OF CREDIBILITY.\n\nThe suspicion of fraud seems never to have been entertained by the\npeople who surrounded Louise Lateau. Her straightforward character,\nher simple and unostentatious piety, and her heroic acts of charity to\nthe poor seemed to them the antithesis of hypocrisy. Of the likelihood\nof intentional deception each reader will judge for himself from the\nsketch we have given of her history. Dr. Lefebvre, however,\nacknowledges without hesitation that when he first visited her he was\nsure a pious fraud was being attempted which the eye of science would\nat once detect. Considering that he knew nothing of her and her\nantecedents, this suspicion, he says, \u201cwas natural, legitimate,\nnecessary even; but it soon disappeared in presence of the facts.\u201d\n\nIf only the stigmatization be considered, the supposition is\nuntenable, when it is remembered that she was constantly watched by\nher friends, neighbors, and visitors. How, under such circumstances,\ncould she possibly buy and use the blisters, caustics, or other means\nof producing the bleeding wounds? But, granting she had all these at\nher command, how could the ignorant peasant girl--even though aided by\ntwo or three accomplices--produce a result which the physician with\nall the resources of science cannot effect? For it involved the\nnecessity of causing a bloody discharge from nine or ten points of the\nbody, and of sustaining this for a half-day or even longer under the\nvery eyes of witnesses who prevented any repeated irritation of the\nbleeding surfaces. But when the ecstatic trance is borne in mind, the\nimpossibility of imposture is still more evident. How can we conceive\nthat a young girl, brought up in the hardships of manual work,\ndeprived of all instruction, who has read nothing, and seen nothing,\ncould each week, during an entire day, play the part of a consummate\nactress; that she could simulate not only the abolition of sight and\nhearing, but complete insensibility to the most exquisitely painful\ntests; that she could control functions which are essentially beyond\nthe power of the will, as circulation, bodily temperature,\nrespiration; or that she could suspend those excretions which are at\nonce the most humiliating and the most irresistible evidence of human\nweakness!\n\nIf, then, the problem at Bois d\u2019Haine presented only one\ndifficulty--the stigmatization or the ecstasy--it would be next to\nimpossible to explain it on the supposition of fraud. But this\ndifficulty is incomparably greater when we consider these two\nextraordinary facts in association. To suppose that both the ecstasy\nand stigmatization were fraudulent would involve the manifest\ncontradiction of admitting that the h\u00e6morrhage, which required a\nfrequent movement to sustain it for ten, fifteen, or twenty hours,\ncould be maintained during the prolonged immobility of the trance. No\none, however dextrous, could play this double _r\u00f4le_ for eighteen\nmonths[53] without detection, although constantly examined by all\nkinds of people--many of them filled with scientific distrust, and\namong them more than one hundred physicians. As an example of the         182\nuncertainty of her privacy, Dr. Lefebvre states (in a note) that, on\nthe 11th February, 1870, he was unexpectedly passing through the\nneighborhood, and, as it chanced to be on Friday, he thought he would\nstop and see Louise. He knocked at the door--was at once admitted, and\nwent straight to her little room without stopping to speak to the\nfamily. It was a quarter to four in the afternoon, and she was\ncompletely alone, lying prostrate on the floor, with her arms extended\nas described, and insensible to all that was passing around her. The\nbleeding limbs were wrapped in the usual cloths, of which he counted\nnine. The blood which trickled from her forehead was dried; and,\nlifting up her little white cap, he noticed the circle of bleeding\npoints on her forehead, which presented the usual appearance. The feet\nhad not been bleeding; on the right hand the flow was just stopping,\nwhile on the left the blood was still distinctly flowing from both\nstigmata. Having ascertained these points, he quietly left the cottage\nwithout her having been aware of his visit.\n\nAs a general answer to the objection of insincerity, Dr. Lefebvre\nappeals to both moral and physical proofs. As the most convincing of\nthe former class, he cites the general good repute of Louise, which\nwas never doubted, even by those who most resolutely questioned the\nnature of the phenomena she presented: her brave and humble life, her\ncontempt for presents or money, her simplicity and avoidance of all\nparade; her extreme anxiety to conceal the first evidence of the\nstigmata even from her own family. If, as occasionally happened, money\nor presents of any kind were offered to her mother or sisters, their\nwounded pride was unmistakable; and when the Archbishop of Malines,\nafter a long examination of Louise, once asked the family if they had\nno request to make of him, they only entreated that they might be\nrelieved of visitors and left undisturbed.\n\nTo meet the physical objections raised to the theory of the stigmata,\nhe tried the effects produced by cupping, caustics, and various\nblistering agents. The first of these has little or no force; for,\nbesides the difficulty of exhausting the air under a cup upon the hard\nand uneven surface of the back of the hand, it is necessary to cut the\nskin to make the blood flow, and, when the amount drawn to the surface\nflows out, the bleeding ceases at once.\n\nCaustics produce a destruction of the skin at the point to which they\nare applied, and after five or six days an eschar is detached, leaving\na sore but not a bleeding surface; or, if bleeding exceptionally\noccurs, it ceases very soon, and the healing process is slow and\nalways followed by an indelible scar. This in no respect accorded with\nthe facts observed.\n\nThe blistering hypothesis seems less improbable, as this class of\nirritants produce a special form of inflammation of the skin, during\nwhich the epidermis is raised from the derm by an exudation of serous\nfluid. As this process much more resembled the vesicles that preceded\nthe stigmatic bleedings, it was examined with greater care. The\ncharacteristic odor of cantharides or ammonia was never perceived, nor\ncould the peculiar spangles of the Spanish-fly ever be detected with a\nmagnifying lens. Litmus paper, moistened and applied to the wounds,\ngave no evidence of the application of acids. In addition to this,\nthere was no inflamed areola around the stigmata, as is common around\nthe edge of blistered surfaces, and their development was not\nsimultaneous, but successive; and more than once, in Dr. Lefebvre\u2019s       183\npresence, the ampulla or vesicle ruptured spontaneously, and the flow\nof blood instantly began in its usual quantity.\n\nWhen, however, the vesicle produced by a blister is ruptured, the raw\nskin is exposed, but never under any circumstances emits a flow of\nblood. To prove this in the most conclusive manner, the following\nexperiments were instituted:\n\nOn Friday, Nov. 27, 1868, Dr. Lefebvre, who usually adopted the wise\nprecaution of taking with him two or three of his colleagues or other\nrespectable physicians on his visits to Bois d\u2019Haine, in the presence\nof Drs. Lecrinier and S\u00e9verin, applied strong aqua ammonia to a spot\nabout half an inch in diameter upon the back of the left hand,\nalongside of the stigma, which was then bleeding freely. A narrow\nstrip of sound skin was purposely left between the two. In about\ntwelve minutes a well-developed circular vesicle was obtained, filled\nwith transparent serum. On the hypothesis of fraud, this should have\nburst spontaneously; but, as it did not do so, it was ruptured and the\ncuticle torn off, thus exposing two raw surfaces side by side, upon\nthe same hand, and involving the same tissues. The two spots were\ncarefully watched; the stigma continued to bleed freely for two hours\nand a half longer, while the blistered surface during this period did\nnot yield a single drop of blood. For a half hour it exuded a little\ncolorless serum, after which its surface dried up; on rubbing it with\na coarse towel, a little rose-colored serum escaped and soaked into\nthe cloth, but ceased the instant the friction was stopped.\n\nThe second experiment, which was still more decisive, was by means of\nwhat he calls \u201cthe glove test\u201d (_l\u2019\u00e9preuve des gants_).\n\nOn Wednesday, February 3, 1869, Dr. Lecrinier, M. Niels, the curate of\nBois d\u2019Haine, and M. Bussin visited the cottage, and took with them a\npair of thick, strong, well-stitched leather gauntlets. After\ncarefully examining her hands, and satisfying themselves that no\nvesicle or abnormal redness existed, they asked Louise to put on the\ngloves, which fitted her exactly. A strong wristband being then\nwrapped five times around the wrist, so as not to leave the smallest\ninterspace between the glove and the skin, it was tied in a double\nknot, the ends cut short, covered with melted sealing-wax, and\nimpressed on each side with a special seal. To prevent the wax from\nscaling off from friction or any chance blow, the seals were enclosed\nin little bags (_bourses en toile_). The gloves were the same for both\nhands, except that on the right glove the thumb and forefinger were\ncut short to allow the girl to continue her usual sewing. On the next\nFriday morning, before seven o\u2019clock, Dr. Lefebvre met by appointment\nat the cottage Mgr. Pouceur, vicar-general of the diocese of Tournay,\nand two well-known Belgian physicians, Drs. Moulaert, of Bruges, and\nMussely, of Deguze. After each one had satisfied himself of the\nintegrity of the seals, and that it was impossible to slip an\ninstrument of any kind between the glove and the skin, the strings\nwere cut and the gloves removed.\n\nThey were full of blood, which also covered the hands. When this was\nwashed off, the stigmata were found just the same as on other Fridays;\non the palm and back of each hand the epidermis had been detached; it\nwas torn, and the surface of the skin left raw, and each of the\nstigmatic spots continued to bleed as usual. Of the feet, which had\nnot been subjected to any test, the right was bleeding freely, while      184\nthe left was dry.\n\nLest some subtle doubter might object to this experiment that, by some\nindiscretion on the part of the examiners, the girl might perhaps have\ndiscovered their intention, and applied her secret irritant to the\nhands before their arrival, Dr. Lefebvre resolved to repeat the test\nwith still more conclusive precautions.\n\nThe gloves were therefore again applied on a Tuesday with the same\ncare as before, and the next day were removed for a few moments, and\nthe hands found in a perfectly healthy and natural state; they were\nthen re-applied as before. On Friday morning, they were taken off\nbefore a new set of witnesses, when the stigmata of both hands were\nfound bleeding freely as usual.\n\nIn his appendix, Dr. Lefebvre states that this glove test was\nsuggested by Mgr. Pouceur, who superintended the theological part of\nthe inquiry at the request of the Bishop of Tournay, and to whose tact\nand intelligent liberality he pays the highest compliment.\n\nThese experiments, and the inferences that they logically involve,\nconvinced Dr. Lefebvre that the hypothesis of fraud in the production\nof the stigmata was untenable.\n\nIt would be easy to show by similar proofs that the ecstatic trances\ncould not have been feigned. But for our purpose it will suffice to\nrecall the reader\u2019s attention to the numerous trials that were made to\ntest the subject\u2019s sensibility to external impressions. Those made\nwith the electric current alone are decisive upon this point, for it\nmay fairly be said that the strongest and most resolute man could not\npossibly resist some exhibition of feeling while a powerful magnetic\nbattery was contorting his muscles.\n\nIn a subsequent part of his volume, Dr. Lefebvre enters into an\nexhaustive medical study of the facts observed, the discussion of\nwhich would be out of place in this magazine. He shows conclusively\nthat, although they have some points in common, the ecstatic trances\nessentially differ from hysteria, catalepsy, and other allied\ndisorders of the nervous system; while animal magnetism in its various\nsubdivisions of \u201cBraidism,\u201d hypnotism, and electro-biology is equally\npowerless with somnambulism or the theory of spiritualism to unravel\nthe phenomena presented by this simple peasant girl of Bois d\u2019Haine.\n\nThe reader who desires to pursue this inquiry is referred to Dr.\nLefebvre\u2019s work (pp. 162 _et seq._) and to Fournier\u2019s article\nentitled \u201cCas rares\u201d in the fourth volume of the _Dictionnaire des\nSciences M\u00e9dicales_, which is replete with curious information upon\nthe subject of the stigmata.\n\nSo convincing are the statements of Dr. Lefebvre, who never descends\ninto the advocate or mistakes his own theories for facts, that the\ncase he narrates has been accepted in good faith, and republished\nwithin the present year by two of the leading journals[54] of this\ncountry and England.\n\nIn one of these, Dr. Day, of London, discusses the probable cause of\nthe phenomena with considerable liberality, while the learned Clymer\ncontents himself with reporting the extraordinary facts.\n\n\n     [45] It is scarcely necessary to explain to Catholic readers\n     that this expression is applied to the marks of the five\n     wounds upon our Lord\u2019s body, as described in the Gospel, and\n     illustrated in all representations of the crucifixion.\n\n     [46] Among others, White\u2019s _Life and Writings of Emmanuel\n     Swedenborg_. 1867.\n\n     [47] _Observations, etc., upon Insanity._ London. 1806.\n     Cited by Clymer.\n\n     [48] See among others, Salvatori\u2019s _Life of Veronico\n     Giuliani_, pp. 100-108, and the exhaustive _Christliche\n     Mystik_ of G\u00f6rres, in which is given a full account of\n     Maria M\u00f6rl, the \u201cEcstatic of the Tyrol.\u201d\n\n     [49] _Louise Lateau de Bois d\u2019Haine: sa Vie; ses Extases; ses\n     Stigmates. Etude M\u00e9dicale._ Par le Dr. F. Lefebvre,\n     Professeur de Pathologie G\u00e9n\u00e9rale et de Th\u00e9rapeutique.\n     Louvain. 1870. 12mo, pp. 360.\n\n     [50] For the unprofessional reader, it may be proper to state\n     that this point is just external to the usual position of\n     the apex of the heart.\n\n     [51] The thin, transparent membrane that covers the eyeball, and\n     is reflected upon the inner surface of the lids. It is one\n     of the most delicate and sensitive portions of the body.\n\n     [52] This test is often applied for the detection of feigned\n     convulsions, etc., by criminals and other malingerers; its\n     efficacy will be appreciated by any one who has tried to\n     hold the poles of a powerful battery.\n\n     [53] That is, from July, 1868, to April, 1870, when Dr.\n     Lefebvre\u2019s book was published. In a subsequent letter dated\n     January 13, 1871, to Dr. Day, of London, he states that her\n     condition is in all respects unchanged.\n\n     [54] _The Journal of Psychological Medicine_, New York,\n     Oct., 1870. _Macmillan\u2019s Magazine_, London, April, 1871.\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n                THE LEGENDS OF OISIN, BARD OF ERIN.                       185\n\n                        BY AUBREY DE VERE.\n\n                           INTRODUCTORY.\n\n\nAmong the mountains and on the wild shores of Western Ireland are\nstill recited, in the Gaelic, to eager listeners legends relating to\nFionn Mac Cumbal and his son Oisin, known to the English reader\nchiefly under the names of Fingal and Ossian. Some of these\n\u201crhapsodies\u201d have been recently published, with an English version, by\nthe Irish \u201cOssianic Society,\u201d and others by Mr. Hawkins Simpson, in a\nvaluable volume called _Oisin, the Bard of Ireland_. Many poems on the\nsame subject are included also in _The Dean of Lismore\u2019s Book_, a work\nconsisting of ancient Gaelic poetry, selected from a MS. collection\nmade about A.D. 1514, by Sir James MacGregor, Dean of Lismore, an\nisland in Argyllshire. The early Irish settlements in Western Scotland are\nlargely referred to by the chroniclers and arch\u00e6ologists of Scotland.\nW. F. Skene, Esq., in his learned Introduction to the Dean\u2019s book,\ninforms us (though for Scotland, also, he claims Ossianic poetry)\nthat, during the four centuries in which the great Celtic house of the\n\u201cLord of the Isles\u201d held sway, there existed \u201cnot only a close\npolitical connection between the Western Highlands and Islands and\nIreland, but the literary influence was equally close and strong; the\nIrish sennachies and bards were heads of a school which included the\nWestern Highlands, and the Highland sennachies were either of Irish\ndescent, or, if of native origin, resorted to bardic schools in\nIreland for instruction in the language and accomplishments of their\nart.\u201d ... \u201cThe oldest of the Gaelic MSS. preserved in the library of\nthe Faculty of Advocates belongs to this period. They are all written\nin the Irish character; the language is the written language of\nIreland; and they contain numerous specimens of the poetry of these\nIrish masters.\u201d\n\nAmong the Ossianic poems still chanted in Ireland, not a few consist\nof dialogues between Oisin and Saint Patrick. They descend from a very\nremote antiquity, though they have been much modified in the course of\nages. The bard, last of his race and clan, is represented as the guest\nof Saint Patrick in one of his convents. He accepts the Christian\nfaith, though with misgivings, for he fears that he is thus false to\nthe friends of his youth, and now and then his wrath blazes out\nagainst the monks, who have no faith in the chiefs of Inisfail. The\nsaint beguiles his outbreaks by praying him to sing the old glories of\nthe land.\n\nFionn, the father of Oisin, was the great commander of the Irish\nFeine, a standing army elected from all parts of the country, and\ninvested with privileges which made it almost a kingdom within a\nkingdom. Individually, he belonged to the Feine of Leinster, the\ncelebrated \u201cBaoigne Clan.\u201d Alarmed by the regal attributes assumed by\nFionn, all the provincial kings of Ireland banded themselves together\nagainst him, and the battle of Gahbra, near Tara, in Meath, was\nfought, A.D. 286. In that battle almost all the chiefs of both sides\nperished, including Oscar, Oisin\u2019s son, who commanded the Feine. Oscar\nis always represented as the gentlest, not less than the bravest of\nthe Feine--the Hector of the Irish Troy.\n\nFionn and Oisin flourished, despite these poetic disputations, nearly\ntwo centuries before the time of Saint Patrick! Some have supposed,\naccordingly, that the Patrick of the Ossianic poems was some precursor\nof the Irish apostle. But the chronological discrepancy would probably\nhave proved no counterweight to the strength of that instinct which\nmade the national imagination insist on connecting the heroic with the\nsaintly period of Ireland. A theme full of pathos and interest was\npresented by the blind old warrior bard, divided between his devotion\nto his father and his son on the one hand, and his reverence, on the\nother, for the teachers of the better faith--between old affections\nand new convictions--patriotic recollections and religious hopes.\n\n\n                                 I.\n\n             THE CONTENTION OF OISIN WITH PATRICK.[55]\n\n                   [FROM ANCIENT IRISH SOURCES.]\n\n\n          When Patrick the faith to Oisin had preached,\n            He believed, and in just ways trod;\n          Yet oft for old days he grieved, and thus\n            Stormed oft at the saint of God.\n\n         \u201cWoe, woe, for the priestly tribe this hour                      186\n            On the Feine Hill have sway!\n          Glad am I that scarce their shapes I see;\n            Half-blind am I this day.\n\n         \u201cWoe, woe, thou Palace of Cruachan!\n            Thy sceptre is down and thy sword,\n          The chase goes over thy grassy roof,\n            And the monk in thy courts is lord!\n\n         \u201cThou man with the mitre and vestments broad,\n            And the bearing of grave command,\n          Rejoice that Diarmid this day is dust!\n            Right heavy was his clinched hand!\n\n         \u201cThou man with the bell! I rede thee well,\n            Were Diorraing living this day,\n          Thy book he would take, and thy bell would break\n            On the base of yon pillar gray!\n\n         \u201cThou man with miraculous crosier-staff,\n            Though puissant thou art, and tall,\n          Were Goll but here, he would dash thy gear\n            In twain on thy convent wall!\n\n         \u201cWere Conan living, the bald-head shrill,\n            With the flail of his scoff and gibe,\n          He would break thy neck, and thy convent wreck,\n            And lash from the land thy tribe!\n\n         \u201cBut one of our chiefs thy head had spared--\n            My Oscar--my son--my child:\n          He was storm in the foray, and fire in the fight,\n            But in peace he was maiden-mild.\u201d\n\n          Then Patrick answered: \u201cOld man, old man,\n            That pagan realm lies low.\n          This day Christ ruleth. Forget thy chiefs,\n            And thy deeds gone by forego!\n\n         \u201cHigh feast thou hast on the festal days,\n            And cakes on the days of fast--\u201d\n         \u201cThou liest, thou priest, for in wrath and scorn\n            Thy cakes to the dogs I cast!\u201d\n\n         \u201cOld man, thou hearest our Christian hymns:                      187\n            Such strains thou hadst never heard--\u201d\n         \u201cThou liest, thou priest! for in Letter Lee wood\n            I have listened its famed blackbird!\n\n         \u201cI have heard the music of meeting swords,\n            And the grating of barks on the strand,\n          And the shout from the breasts of the men of help\n            That leaped from the decks to land.\n\n         \u201cTwelve hounds had my sire, with throats like bells,\n            Loud echoed on lake and bay:\n          By this hand, they lacked but the baptism rite\n            To chant with thy monks this day!\u201d\n\n          Oisin\u2019s white head on his breast dropt down,\n            Till his hair and his beard, made one,\n          Shone out like the spine of a frosty hill\n            Far seen in the wintry sun.\n\n         \u201cOne question, O Patrick! I ask of thee,\n            Thou king of the saved and the shriven:\n          My sire, and his chiefs, have they their place\n            In thy city, star-built, of heaven?\u201d\n\n         \u201cOisin, old chief of the shining sword,\n            That questionest of the soul,\n          That city they tread not who lived for war:\n            Their realm is a realm of dole.\u201d\n\n         \u201cBy this head, thou liest, thou son of Calphurn!\n            In heaven I would scorn to bide,\n          If my father and Oscar were exiled men,\n            And no friend at my side.\u201d\n\n         \u201cThat city, old man, is the city of peace:\n            Loud anthems, not widows\u2019 wail--\u201d\n         \u201cIt is not in bellowings chiefs take joy,\n            But in songs of the wars of Fail!\n\n         \u201cAre the men in the streets like Baoigne\u2019s chiefs?\n            Great-hearted like us are they?\n          Do they stretch to the poor the ungrudging hand,\n            Or turn they their heads away?\n\n         \u201cThou man with the chant, and thou man with the creed,           188\n            This thing I demand of thee:\n          My dog, may he pass through the gates of heaven?\n            May my wolf-hound enter free?\u201d\n\n         \u201cOld man, not the buzzing gnat may pass,\n            Nor sunbeam look in unbidden:\n          The King there sceptred knows all, sees all:\n            From him there is nothing hidden.\u201d\n\n         \u201cIt never was thus with Fionn, our king!\n            In largess our Fionn delighted:\n          The hosts of the earth came in, and went forth\n            Unquestioned, and uninvited!\u201d\n\n         \u201cThy words are the words of madness, old man,\n            Thy chieftains had might one day;\n          Yet a moment of heaven is three times worth\n            The warriors of Eire for aye!\u201d\n\n          Then Oisin uplifted his old white head:\n            Like lightning from the hoary skies\n          A flash went forth \u2018neath the shaggy roofs\n            Low-bent o\u2019er his sightless eyes:\n\n         \u201cThough my life sinks down, and I sit in the dust,\n            Blind warrior and gray-haired man,\n          Mine were they of old, thou priest overbold,\n            Those chiefs of Baoigne\u2019s clan!\u201d\n\n          And he cried, while a spasm his huge frame shook,\n            \u201cDim shadows like men before me,\n          My father was Fionn, and Oscar my son,\n            Though to-day ye stand vaunting it o\u2019er me!\u201d\n\n          Thus raged Oisin--\u2019mid the fold of Christ,\n            Still roaming old deserts wide\n          In the storm of thought, like a lion old,\n            Though lamblike at last he died.\n\n\n     [55] The substance of this poem will be found among the\n     translations of the Irish Ossianic Society.\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n                           LUCAS GARCIA.                                  189\n\n               FROM THE SPANISH OF FERNAN CABALLERO.\n\n\n                                III.\n\n\nLucas, who could neither do nor remedy anything, suffered fearfully\nfrom the presence of his sister so near him. Happily, in two days the\ngeneral left for Sevilla.\n\nBut from the hour when she met her brother and he refused to recognize\nher, Lucia\u2019s existence was changed. To her, in the flowery butterfly\nlife into which, at seventeen, she had been almost forced by\ncircumstances, the encounter with Lucas had been like the striking of\na bark indolently voyaging, without patron and without compass, to the\nbreath of light and laughing breezes, against the first rock of firm\nland: the shock had been terrible. In perplexity she asked herself,\n\u201cWhere am I? Whither am I going? Who is this that flatters and\nshelters me? Who he that rejects me?\u201d In terror she gazed around her:\nall seemed new and strange, all odious and reprehensible. In her\nmemory--oh! that she had consulted it before!--she found the words her\nbrother had said to her at parting: \u201cNever turn from the right path,\nthough it be steep and sown with thorns. Always look straight before\nyou, for he that does not do this never knows where he will stop.\u201d\nLucia\u2019s wretchedness was augmented by the seeming impossibility of\nescape from the position in which she found herself. Could she turn\nback without either encouragement and support, while, by continuing in\nsin, she would have both? Her natural want of energy made it the more\ndifficult for her to return to the right path, with no help but his\nwho never fails those who seek him with faith and without fear or\nfaltering. The tears she shed tarnished her beauty, and the sorrow\nthat preyed on her heart robbed her manners--hitherto so gay and\ncaressing--of their charm. All this at first annoyed Gallardo, then\noffended, and finished by exasperating him. Violent scenes took place\nbetween the lovers; these introduced discord; and discord, when once\nit has burst its primitive embankments, filters through whatever\nothers may be raised to contain it.\n\nWhen the general was recalled to Madrid, expecting to be employed, and\nthinking that his stay would not be long, he resolved to leave Lucia\nin Sevilla. She allowed him to go without opposition, for so weary was\nshe of the life she led that any change seemed preferable. She was,\nbesides, very far from possessing the brazen and insolent courage that\nwomen of her condition are wont to acquire, and that causes so many of\nthem, when they have ceased to be objects of passion, to be dreaded by\nthe men around whom they have coiled themselves like horrible snakes;\nmaking miserable Laocoons of the victims, who often marry them through\nfear, where before they would not do it for love, and thus render the\nlatter part of their career as ridiculous as the beginning was\nscandalous.\n\nA worthy manner, truly, in which to fill up a man\u2019s existence!\n\nThe stay at court, however, of the _young_ general, as the papers\nstyled Gallardo, was prolonged. He alternated in various combinations     190\nof second-class political intrigues, and allowed himself to be made\nthe conceited tool of one of them, under the full persuasion that he\nhad become the imposing leader of a party.\n\nThe general now began to think, with excellent reason, very sound\njudgment, and profound calculation, that it was time for him to be\nmore considerate. The reader will pardon us the expression, which, in\nhis case, meant to enter upon a life of usefulness and devotion to the\ninterests of the country--without sacrificing his own, it will be\nunderstood. Influenced by these grave considerations, our young leader\nsubscribed to newspapers, bought books and read some of them, though\nhe soon forgot precisely which he had read and which not; wrote a\nmemorial on river navigation, and another upon the _Renta del\nExcusado_;[56] made short speeches as a preparation for longer ones,\nwhich succeeded very well and met with the entire approbation of his\nhearers; and, in the time it takes to say a devout _amen_,\nexchanged the rakish air of the young blood for the pompous tone of\nthe prominent and influential citizen.\n\nOur friend, as may be seen, had reached his apogee: in confirmation of\nwhich--among other sacrifices made to seriousness--he had procured a\ngood cook, and loosened the lacings of his stays.\n\nNevertheless--since there is a difference between a serious man and a\nmoral one--our hero maintained a sort of toned-down dissoluteness\nbehind the scenes, where he and his intimates entertained themselves\nin conversations tissued with a variety of subjects, such as the\ndiscourse _A_ and the scandal _B_; the concordat and the theatre royal;\nthe ministry and the _danseuse_; the bishop and the prima donna; the\ncrown and cards; erected a throne to Tauromaquia; proposed an\napotheosis of industry; and passed a vote of censure upon the luxury\nof novenas.\n\n\u201cLook here, _little one_!\u201d said to him just such another \u201c_little\none_\u201d at a breakfast party--where champagne was made to represent the\ntone of good society that the greater part of the guests lacked--\u201cwhat\nhas become of _La Lucia_?\u201d\n\n\u201cShe was not very well, and I left her in Sevilla,\u201d responded the\nhero.\n\n\u201cDoesn\u2019t it strike you that she is losing her varnish?\u201d\n\n\u201cAt twenty-one, man?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is not singular,\u201d remarked the elegant son of a capitalist (the\nyouth had been educated in France). \u201cAt that age, one who lives fast\nis _sur le retour_.\u201d[57]\n\n\u201cThe existence of _camellias_ is like that of roses,\u201d quickly added\nanother, whose Christian name of Bonifacio they were in the habit of\ncontracting into _Boni_.\n\nHaving constituted himself an inseparable copy of the engrafted\nParisian, and not wishing to fall behind his model in anything,\n_Boni_ never allowed the capitalist to express an idea without\ninstantly reproducing it in different words, always endeavoring to\nsurpass the original in elegant Gallicisms; in scepticism of the most\nmaterial, and cynicism of the most approved kind, and in extreme\naffectation of the fashionable foreign mannerism.\n\n\u201cYou ought to place this Lucia _dis_-lucent among the number of the\nthousand-and-one Didos,\u201d said the would-be Gaul.\n\n\u201cLay her aside with last year\u2019s _modes fan\u00e9es_,\u201d[58] the copy hastened\nto add.\n\n\u201cI cannot do that,\u201d said the general.                                     191\n\n\u201cStale Spanish morality!\u2019\u201d exclaimed the capitalist, bursting into a\nlaugh. \u201cDoes the fair creature expect to find an Amadeus of Gaul in a\ngeneral of the age of enlightenment?\u201d\n\n\u201cOr a Pastor Fido in one who aspires to become a father to his\ncountry?\u201d put in _Boni_.\n\n\u201cThe fact is,\u201d replied our friend, \u201cthat in my connection with Lucia\nthere have been exceptional circumstances.\u201d\n\n\u201cTell them to us, little one,\u201d said his intimate. \u201cThe romantic tale\nwill flavor the coffee.\u201d\n\nThe general related all the preliminaries and particulars of his\nrelations with Lucia.\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t you see, general,\u201d said the imitator of the tone Parisian,\n\u201cthat it was all a farce, very well got up, by those _fourbes rustics_\nto set you on; alarm you; interest you in the girl, and oblige you to\ntake her?\u201d\n\n\u201cThat it was all an intrigue of _las \u00e9tage_?\u201d added the copy of the\ncopy.\n\n\u201c_Apropos_ of impositions,\u201d said the capitalist, \u201cI must tell you what\nhappened to me yesterday. A fellow came into my office--\u201d\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t omit,\u201d said _Boni_, \u201cthat you were counting an immense sum of\nmoney at the time, for that is what heightens the joke.\u201d\n\n\u201cHe asked me,\u201d continued Creseus, \u201cif I would lend him two doubloons.\nI told him that it cost me the greatest pain to be obliged to refuse,\nbut that I had not sixpence by me.\u201d\n\n\u201cIf I had not wished to give, I would have sought another reply,\u201d said\nan old general--uncle to ours--who had lost a leg in the battle of\nBailen.\n\n\u201cGeneral,\u201d replied the narrator, \u201camong us, _I have not_ is\nsynonymous with _I will not_; even sucking-babes understand it.\u201d\n\n\u201cA synonym which Huertas has omitted, but which is known in these\ndays, even in the Batuecas,\u201d chimed the repeater.\n\n\u201cIt could not have existed when he composed his work,\u201d said the\ngeneral.\n\n\u201cThe fellow,\u201d proceeded the narrator, \u201cbegged and implored, lowering\nhis demand to the most insignificant sum. I was as inexorable as\ndestiny.\u201d And the millionaire cast around him a look worthy of Cato.\n\n\u201cHe was, then, in real need, and not an impostor?\u201d questioned the old\ngeneral.\n\n\u201cO sir!--general rule--every one that asks is an impostor.\u201d\n\n\u201cUnless he is an intimate friend,\u201d said _Boni_, speaking this time\nwith unaccustomed personality.\n\n\u201c_Ma foi_,\u201d[59] answered the Gaul_ish_ Spaniard, \u201cI except no one.\nSeeing that he was not going to desist, and always with the amiability\nand delicacy that must be used in such cases--\u201d\n\n\u201c_Sans doute_, the same as in affairs of honor,\u201d said the bad copy of\na worse original.\n\n\u201cI told him that, since his necessity was so extreme, I would venture\nto lend him--not money, for I had none--but something that would be of\nmore use to him in his circumstances. The imbecile thought, perhaps,\nthat it was going to be my signature.\u201d\n\n\u201cYour signature! What one might call the only and unique _sanctum\nsanctorum_ of the disciples of Mercury. A thing so sacred!\u201d\n\n\u201cMy dear _Boni_,\u201d said his friend, \u201c_veuillez ne pas m\u2019interrompre_?[60]\nThe fellow\u2019s countenance lighted up. I believe, upon my word, that he\nhad not eaten in three days. Laughing within myself, although my face     192\ndenoted the gravest sympathy for his situation, I led him to a closet,\ntook out a case of pistols, which I opened, and, handing him a weapon,\nsaid, as I bowed his dismissal, \u2018Here is a remedy for all your\ntroubles.\u2019 My mendicant turned upon his heel and left; and you may be\nsure that I have rid myself of him, _une bonne fois pour toutes_.\u201d[61]\n\nBoni\u2019s mirth was overpowering.\n\nGallardo and the rest of the Spaniards were silent.\n\n\u201cYou must positively put this joke into some paper,\u201d said the\ncapitalist\u2019s admirer, between his paroxysms of laughter.\n\n\u201c_Mon cher, \u00e0 quoi bon?_\u201d[62] responded the hero of the anecdote, with\nan air of modesty.\n\n\u201cTo show people how to get rid of impostors,\u201d answered Boni; \u201cto\nfurnish a specimen of your humor--to let it be seen that you are as\nrichly endowed by nature as by fortune--to give circulation to an\nentertaining item--and to--\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd could a paper be found that would print such an iniquity as an\nentertaining item!\u201d shouted the old general, no longer able to contain\nhis wrath. \u201cIs it the mission of the press to propagate such ideas and\nsentiments? God help us, sirs, if there is no one left in Spain\ncapable of a blush! Can the press parade infamy shamelessly, and no\none be found to repudiate the impudence that relates such a scandal in\nterms of laudation; or appeal from it to the noble and generous\ninstincts, and sense of public decorum, of good and true Spaniards?\nHave we become as positive as the written law? In former times,\ngentlemen, not all gave, but the few that denied did not boast of\ntheir refusal. Charity made men sorry to say no, even to impostors,\nand, having said it, they would have been silent about it for shame.\nAvarice was looked upon as one of the disgraceful vices which respect\nfor public opinion required to be kept out of sight.\u201d\n\n\u201cUncle, for God\u2019s sake!\u201d entreated Gallardo.\n\n\u201cFor God\u2019s sake what, nephew?\u201d\n\n\u201cSpeak with more moderation.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhen I do, look towards Antequera for sunrise.\u201d\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t feel apprehensive, general,\u201d said the capitalist, \u201c_Je sais\nvivre_.[63] I respect your family, and know how to make allowance for\ngray hairs and the ill-humor of advanced age.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d instantly added the speaking shadow, \u201c_carte blanche_ belongs\nto ladies, children, and--\u201d\n\nHe was going to add _old men_, but a look from the general silenced\nhim.\n\n\u201cNo, nephew, don\u2019t be apprehensive,\u201d said the latter. \u201cThe weapons of\na gentleman are for nobler uses than the punishment of insults.\u201d\n\n\u201cCome, let us talk of something else,\u201d said Gallardo\u2019s intimate,\nanxious to change the subject, but glad in his heart, as were all the\nother guests, of the lesson the braggart had received from so worthy\nand authorized an antagonist.\n\n\u201cIt is not possible, Gallardo, that you will allow Lucia to be an\nirredeemable lien upon you. Let me tell you, my boy, that it would be\na pretty piece of folly on your part to create an obstacle to your\nfuture establishment.\u201d\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t see that--in order to be a deputy, senator, or--\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! you\u2019re on the wrong tack. Your political ideas absorb all your\nthoughts; but I have been told--by one of her friends--that the\ndaughter of Don Juan de Moneda,[64] the banker, is quite smitten with     193\nyour person.\u201d\n\nGallardo straightened himself, and caressed his curled locks.\n\n\u201cHer mother is completely taken with the title of Marquis de Monte\nGallardo, which they say you are about to receive, and her father with\nyour capacity.\u201d\n\n\u201cWe are even there,\u201d said the general, \u201cfor I am as much impressed\nwith his. To buy--\u201d\n\n\u201cBut,\u201d proceeded the friend, \u201che is equally so with your sash and\nrent-roll. Here, boy, is an opportunity to settle in life.\u201d\n\n\u201cReally, I hardly know the kind and amiable young lady who has been so\ncondescending as to think of me!\u201d drawled the extremely flattered\nGallardo, privately resolving to tighten his stays again.\n\n\u201cShe is very beautiful,\u201d affirmed his friend, \u201cand you must know that\nshe rides like a Cossack.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! Athena\u00efs la Moneda has the most elegant figure and complexion--so\npale!--and the fiercest glances\u201d (he meant haughtiest) \u201cof all the\nbelles of Madrid. She is delicious!\u201d exclaimed the Parisian.\n\n\u201cShe has the neck of a swan, with such _serpentine undulating_,\u201d said\nBonifacio, quite at a loss for another comparison.\n\n\u201cThe most desirable _parte, ma foi_! Her father is worth forty\nmillions, and she is the only daughter,\u201d continued the capitalist, who\ndid not allow his appreciation of beauty to interfere with his\ndevotion to dollars.\n\n\u201cYou ought to improve your opportunity, and marry at once,\u201d advised\nthe friend. \u201cThese girls with forty millions are more capricious than\nthe wind. They change oftener than weather-cocks, and do just as they\nplease; for millionaire fathers who know only the Castilian have the\nhighest consideration for daughters who have learned French from Sue\u2019s\nnovels, and Italian at the opera.\u201d\n\n\u201cAn heiress\u2019s whim is like a flash of lightning. In losing time, you\nexpose yourself to a--\u201d\n\n\u201cTo a deception,\u201d said the capitalist, concluding the sentence.\n\n\u201cTo a _disabusement_,\u201d said the copy, thinking, with profound\nsatisfaction, that he had, for once, surpassed the original.\n\n\u201cWhat is your opinion of all this?\u201d asked Gallardo of his uncle, with\na laugh, intended to appear jesting, but which betrayed his interior\nsatisfaction.\n\n\u201cYes, give us the benefit of your wisdom,\u201d said the capitalist,\ncovering his ill-humor with a tone of light irony. \u201cIn matrimonial as\nwell as martial councils, the Nestors should be heard.\n\n    \u2018_La face des vieillards est pleine de majesti:\n      Leur voix sur l\u2019existence a des secrets intimes._\u2019\u201d[65]\n\n\u201c_Une vieux de la vieille_,\u201d[66] confirmed _Boni_, \u201cis a California of\nexperience; a barometrical and chronometrical counsellor; a universal\ngrammar bound in gold; a--\u201d\n\n\u201cHush, _Boni_!\u201d whispered the capitalist in the ear of his friend, who,\nless accustomed to champagne than the others, began to feel its\nemancipating influence.\n\nMeantime, the old officer stroked his gray moustache in silence.\n\n\u201cWell, what do you think, general!\u201d questioned Gallardo.\n\n\u201cI think that you ought to marry.\u201d\n\n\u201c_C\u2019est clair_,\u201d said the Parisian.\n\n\u201cIt is clear,\u201d repeated _Boni_--\u201cas clear as detestable water;\nand they think of bringing it into Madrid! Will spend millions to do\nit!\u201d\n\n\u201c_Taisez vous, mon cher_,\u201d entreated the model, in a low tone.            194\n\n\u201cI am not in the humor,\u201d replied the copy, in excellent Spanish.\n\n\u201cOf course he ought to marry,\u201d said all the rest.\n\n\u201cLet us understand each other, gentlemen,\u201d said the old general. \u201cI\nthink, Gallardo, that you ought to marry, not the mushroom of the\nmillions, but Lucia.\u201d\n\nThese words were received with clamorous disapprobation.\n\n\u201cYou take advantage of your _r\u00f4le_ of Nestor, general,\u201d exclaimed\nthe capitalist.\n\n\u201cThe hero of former times dotes--I would say _radote_. I propose a\nvote of censure!\u201d hiccoughed the copy.\n\n\u201cS-s-s, Boni. _Le vous en prie!_[67] Do you want to get another\nbroadside from the disabled old pontoon? Don\u2019t provoke him, for the\nnext time neither prudence nor contempt will enable me to keep my\ntemper,\u201d murmured his patron.\n\n\u201cThe general is jesting. A gentleman of his fine delicacy cannot mean\nto counsel one, in Gallardo\u2019s position, to marry a woman of light\nreputation,\u201d said Gallardo\u2019s friend.\n\n\u201cI do it because I have delicacy--a plant that strikes so deep when\nonce it has taken root, that neither the silver plough nor the golden\nspade which cultivates the field of ideas of the present day can turn\nit out. I counsel a man who has done a wrong to repair it. I advise\none who has been the ruin of an honest girl to become her defender.\nAnd the more public he has made her position, the more he is bound to\nset her right in the eyes of others. If the future looks smiling, I\ncounsel it all the more earnestly, that the past may not reproach him.\nIn my days, gentlemen, marriages were not discussed in semi-public\nmeetings. The only counsellors were, according to the circumstances,\nthe heart, the honor, and the conscience. But,\u201d added the old man,\nrising, \u201cmy sentiments are as much out of harmony with yours, as my\nperson is out of place in a reunion of gay young men. Gentlemen, I\nsalute you. Nephew, good-by. Do not ask me to your brilliant wedding\nif you marry with the million-heiress of the caprices. If with Lucia,\nI will be your groomsman.\u201d\n\nWith these words the noble veteran took his leave.\n\n\u201cStyle of an epic poem,\u201d said the pseudo-Parisian.\n\n\u201cTone of an _elegiac lyric_,\u201d stammered the copy. \u201cOne would think the\ngovernor had been drinking some kind of palate-skinning Catalan wine,\ninstead of the excellent, exquisite, delectable, delicious--\u201d\n\n\u201cEnough, _Boni_,\u201d interrupted his friend, indicating to him with his\nfoot the urgent necessity of more discretion.\n\n\u201cThe general has, so to speak, one foot in the grave, and, naturally,\nall looks to him _de profundis_ color,\u201d observed Gallardo\u2019s intimate.\n\u201cBut we live in a positive age, and must conform to the step of its\nmarch; to do otherwise would be to make ourselves antiquated and\nridiculous.\u201d\n\nDays followed days, each one bringing to our hero its business,\nnovelty, interest, and forgetfulness of those that had preceded it.\nLucia, in the meantime, saw her means of subsistence failing without\ninforming him; for, with the reawakened sentiments of duty and shame,\ncame the comprehension of her guilty dependence, and sense of the\ndouble humiliation of soliciting and receiving. She had lived for some\ntime by the sale of her valuables, but this resource was almost\nexhausted.\n\n\u201cWhat is to become of me?\u201d she questioned, with more of weakness than     195\ninquietude, more inertia than anguish, as she sat one day alone, her\nhead drooping upon her breast. \u201cIn forgetting how to work, I have been\nlike the sailor that forgets in a calm how to handle the ropes. What\nshall I do when all is gone? What can he who has brought me to this be\nthinking of?\u201d\n\nHer questionings were interrupted by the entrance of the woman of the\nhouse with a letter.\n\n\u201cIt is from Madrid,\u201d she said, with a fawning smile. \u201cI\u2019ll bet that\nthe general tells when he is coming, and confirms the report of his\nappointment as captain-general of this province.\u201d\n\nLucia opened and read the following epistle:\n\n\u201cDEAR LUCIA: Nothing can last for ever. Mature age brings serious\nideas; the life of a man, obligations, circumstances, compromises, and\nposition, duties, which force us to make, in favor of reason and\nmorality, sacrifices that are not the less painful because they are\nnecessary.\n\n\u201cMy family has undertaken to negotiate a marriage for me, which will\nassure me a certain and brilliant future; and matters have proceeded\nso far that I cannot oppose myself to the arrangement without\noffending a powerful and respectable family, compromising my own, and\ncausing grave inconveniences, inconveniences which you would be the\nfirst to deplore.\n\n\u201cI believe that you will understand the necessity of my establishing\nmyself in life, and will feel neither surprised nor pained. I am\nequally persuaded, having noticed for a long time how unhappy you\nseemed at my side, and how little pleasure my presence gave you, that\nyou will not miss me. It may be that another already occupies in your\nheart the place that once was mine. If you will be happier with him\nthan you have been with me, I trust that I have enough philanthropy to\nrejoice in your good fortune.\n\n\u201cAdieu. It is likely that we may not meet again; but, believe me, I\nshall never forget you; and, if I can serve you in any way, command\nme.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell,\u201d asked the woman, eagerly, \u201cdoes he say anything about coming?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d answered Lucia, with the tears raining down her cheeks, \u201che says\nthat he is not coming.\u201d\n\nLucia did not feel for Gallardo that which can properly be called\nlove; but, during four years, her naturally affectionate heart had\nattached itself to him, and could not but be wounded by the cold\ninsensibility with which he had abandoned her.\n\nThe harpy\u2019s face, manner, and tone changed at once; for this grief\nconfirmed her suspicions. Lucia\u2019s lover had cast her off.\n\n\u201cMadam,\u201d she said, \u201ccertain exigencies, in which I unfortunately find\nmyself, have obliged me to introduce a rule into my house, requiring\nmy boarders to pay in advance. All the rest have agreed to it, and I\ntrust that you will do the same.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, madam,\u201d replied Lucia, \u201cfor I am going away to-morrow, and so\nshall have to give you only what is already due.\u201d\n\nThe poor forsaken girl went out that night and sold her wardrobe to a\npawnbroker. After satisfying her creditor, she had enough left to pay\nsome wine-carriers for a ride upon one of their mules as far as Jerez,\nand from there she meant to go to Arcos on foot. At dawn, on the\nfollowing morning, she passed through the Carmona gate, casting a\nlong, sad look upon the sleeping city--the city that the Bitis serves\nas a page; La Giralda for insignia, and the verdure of its orange         196\ngroves for adornment; the city that is at once gay as a village maiden\nand imposing as a queen; beautiful as a young girl, and full of wisdom\nand memories as a matron; graceful as the Andalusian of to-day, and\nchaste and noble as the Castilian dame of olden time.\n\nLucia found herself in Jerez alone and without resource, but, by favor\nof her good angel, met Uncle Bartolo at the inn where she alighted.\nThe visible presence of the former would not have rejoiced her more\nthan did the sight of this old friend of her family, to whom she told\nthe whole of her sad story, adding that now she knew not what to do,\nsince she dared not seek even a servant\u2019s place.\n\n\u201cMy daughter,\u201d said the old guerilla, \u201cyou grew vain in the fiend\u2019s\nown house of _Leona_, and forgot that wings were given to the ant for\nits destruction. If you had shown that wretch a repulsive face, he\nwould not have ventured to do what he did. What motive, will you tell\nme, could a _You Sir_ have for playing clucking fox to a little\ncountry girl, but to make of her a mark for shame?\n\n\u201cHowever,\u201d he continued, seeing that Lucia\u2019s tears began to flow, \u201cfar\nbe it from me to hack at the fallen tree, or double the burden of the\nass that is down. The baptism of repentance opens the fold, and your\nrepentance is sincere, because you return to poverty, when, if you had\nchosen otherwise, profligates would not have been wanting, in the\ngreat city, to complete your ruin. Come with me, and I will talk to\nLucas. It is his duty to take care of you.\u201d\n\n\u201cHe will never forgive me, Uncle Bartolo!\u201d exclaimed Lucia sadly. \u201cHe\nhas said that he had no sister, and no one can make him say the\ncontrary.\u201d\n\n\u201cTrue,\u201d replied the guerilla, \u201cthe Garcia heads are harder than\nanvils. I learned that by experience when your father--Heaven rest\nhim!--married _La Leona_. But this is another thing, for,\nnotwithstanding that your father did so badly, Lucas has turned out\nwell. And it is a great deal easier to yoke two that are united by\nblood than to unyoke two that the devil has united. We will see, God\nhelping us, and, in the meantime, you shall come to my house; there is\nno great abundance, but good-will is not wanting.\u201d\n\nThe next day saw Uncle Bartolo and Lucia travelling along the road\nwhich we described at the commencement of our story; Lucia mounted\nupon a little ass, and the agile good old man following on foot. At\nnightfall they reached Arcos.\n\nAlas! for the one who, returning to his native place, instead of\nexperiencing pure happiness, feels his heart torn by grief and shame;\nfinds his parents dead, the house where he was born the property of\nstrangers, and sees, in the looks of neighbors, cold disdain instead\nof the joyful smile of recognition and welcome!\n\nUncle Bartolo took Lucia to his own house, and, while they were\npreparing supper, went himself to that of Lucas, who, on receiving his\ndischarge, had returned to Arcos and to his post among the\nday-laborers, and had, by his aptness and diligence, won so much\ncredit that several profitable jobs and positions had already been\noffered him. As will be supposed, he had found his father\u2019s house\nsold. But as his kinswoman still lived in it, he hired his former\nhabitation, and she assisted him.\n\nUncle Bartolo entered, just as Lucas had finished his supper.\n\n\u201cSit by, Uncle Bartolo,\u201d said the young man.\n\n\u201cNo, thank you. May what you have taken profit you! Will you have a       197\ncigar?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt wouldn\u2019t come amiss.\u201d\n\nUncle Bartolo handed Lucas a paper cigar, lighted his own, and, with\ncharacteristic bluntness, plunged into his subject.\n\n\u201cLucas, man, will you tell me why you never speak of your sister? Does\nit appear to you that a sister is a patch sewed on to be ripped at\npleasure?\u201d\n\nLucas, disagreeably surprised, contracted his brows as he answered:\n\n\u201cI have no sister, Uncle Bartolo.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat! what do you say?\u201d\n\n\u201cI have already said it. \u2018In my manse they bestow but one loaf.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cGo a-walking with your grand talk! I\u2019d like to know what right you\nhave to deny your sister, even though her life has not been what it\nought to be?\u201d\n\nLucas had turned pale, and his beard trembled with repressed\nindignation.\n\n\u201cUncle Bartolo,\u201d he replied, affecting an air of indifference, \u201cthe\nsaying is, \u2018He that goes away is not counted.\u2019 Let us drop this\nconversation.\u201d\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t feel disposed to; you may as well understand that. And now,\nlet me tell you that this face of a judge, though it may be the\ncorrect one to show to a sinner, is not by any means the one to show\nto a penitent. Do you comprehend? Your poor little sister is penitent;\nand you know that\n\n     \u2018He who sins and mends,\n      Himself to God commends.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cI have said that I had no sister.\u201d\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t be stubborn, for God\u2019s sake! Look here now, soul of an ape! How\ncan you say you have no sister, if he has given you one? Lucas, I have\ncome, and I shall not go away until you forgive Lucia.\u201d\n\n\u201cUncle Bartolo, don\u2019t pledge yourself to what you cannot accomplish.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are your father\u2019s own son--the one and the other harder-headed\nthan oxen. Juan Garcia and Lucas Garcia: there\u2019s a pair fit for a\ncart!\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy fall upon me, sir, in such a shower of sarcasms? Is it necessary\nto give so many punches to say that the bull is coming?\u201d\n\n\u201cBecause he comes with a purpose, and, \u2018when things come with a\npurpose, more than the ass may fall to the ground.\u2019 I tell you only\nthe pure truth, and you, with your devil\u2019s motto of \u2018few words and bad\nones,\u2019 what you say has neither form nor sense! But to come back to\nthe subject, for I don\u2019t let go the handle this way when I am\ndefending the right. As I was going to say, your stubbornness is worse\nthan your father\u2019s; because it is not so bad to be determined upon\nmarrying one\u2019s girl as to be determined not to forgive one\u2019s sister.\nIt\u2019s better to do more than your duty than to do less. If your father\nlacked puncto, you have half a share too much. Your mother committed\nyour sister to you; and you are disobeying the last will of her that\nbore you!\u201d\n\n\u201cShe committed my sister to me, but not the kept miss of a villain.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are soaring as the eagle, which is a royal bird; you pronounce\nyour sentences like a judge of the Audiencia, and make yourself\nbelieve that you are wiser than the Regency. But you are greatly out\nof the way, my son. It ill becomes you to go before God in casting out\nyour sister; your own mother\u2019s daughter, when her misfortune was\npartly your fault.\u201d\n\n\u201cMine, sir?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, yours; for you threw off the burden like an untamed colt; cast\nbehind you the trust you received from your mother, and, without          198\ncommending yourself either to God or the devil, shouldered your gun\nand made off; knowing that for six years, walled up in a uniform, you\nmust lose sight of your charge; knowing, besides, that you were\nleaving her in a house where wickedness was well established. And so\nwhat happened, happened. The past is past, and can\u2019t be mended now;\nbut after this, do you think it is right, Christian, that your sister\nshould have no one to turn to when she leaves her sinful life?\u201d\n\n\u201cShe ought to have remembered in time that every uphill has its down.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut, my son, is not this to\n\n    \u2018See the ulcer, see the woe:\n     Shut the purse, and naught bestow\u2019?\n\nThis is to have bowels of a pagan toward a poor creature that they\npushed and pushed--a child that did not know what they were doing.\u201d\n\n\u201cUncle Bartolo, ignorance does not take away sin.\u201d\n\n\u201cDo you think, if you had had your evil hour--suppose it for instance,\nonly--and had robbed or done something that had dishonored you, and\nhad gone to your sister, that she would refuse to own you? I\u2019ll be\nbound she wouldn\u2019t!\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, I should have acted badly. But the case is impossible, for it\nwould have been my care not to put myself in her way. \u2018He that touches\nhis own with his leprosy, gives it to them, and does not cure\nhimself.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cLucas, my son, the sentence says, \u2018Act with good intention, and not\nwith passion!\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd the proverb says that \u2018blood boils without fire,\u2019 Uncle Bartolo.\u201d\n\n\u201cLucas, for the love of the Blessed Virgin! How can he who shows no\nmercy hope for the mercy of God? Do a good deed, and, when you lie\ndown, though it be upon a mattress of rushes, you will sleep without\nbad dreams, and as sweetly as if it were a bed of feathers!\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are wasting words, Uncle Bartolo. Even if I am condemned for it,\nI will not hear that vile thing spoken of, and so--stop!\u201d\n\n\u201cGo to, then, _Cain_!\u201d exclaimed the good old man as he rose to leave,\n\u201cand God set a mark on you as he did on the cruel brother that he\ncursed! I\u2019d rather have her, with her sin and her repentance, than\nyou, with your virtue and your pride.\u201d\n\nTo paint the grief of the wretched Lucia when Uncle Bartolo informed\nher of the no-result of his mission, would be impossible.\n\n\u201cHoly God!\u201d she exclaimed between her sobs, \u201conly with thee shall I\nfind mercy! Ah! how I loved this brother in the days of my happy\nchildhood, when I was innocent, and he was all my consolation! Then he\ncould not do enough to please me, and used to swear never to abandon\nme!\u201d\n\n\u201cCome, come, dry your tears, my daughter,\u201d said Uncle Bartolo. \u201c\u2018The\nfrightened partridge is the first to get skewered.\u2019 What do you want\nof an unnatural, without bowels of compassion? You have me, and the\nroof of my house is not so small that it cannot shelter you. What I\nhave you shall share, and you can help my poor Josefa. She has become\na potsherd, and don\u2019t get much rest, for \u2018woman\u2019s work is done and to\nbe done again.\u2019\u201d\n\nWhen the other inmates of the house slept, Lucia kept lonely vigil,\nand wept the things that had formerly made her happiness--her poverty,\nher innocence, and her brother\u2019s affection. Wandering in the vast\nfield of her recollections, she found both affliction and consolation\nin recalling all the particulars of her simple life; every proof of       199\ntenderness that she had received from her brother; every hope,\nwithered or dead. With the deepening silence and shadows of the night,\nher anguish increased. \u201cWhat shall I do? What shall I do?\u201d she cried,\nwringing her hands. \u201cI cannot be a burden to this good old man! I\ncannot stay in this neighborhood, for my own brother\u2019s rejection of me\nwill encourage others to outrage me! What shall I do? I must beg if I\ncannot find work! Where shall I go? Wherever God may lead me!\u201d\n\nWithout waiting for daylight, and silently, in order that her\ndeparture might not be perceived by her protector, Lucia opened the\ndoor, and stepped into the street.\n\nBut she could not leave, for ever, a place so dear to her, without\nlingering for a moment before the adjacent house. It was the one in\nwhich her mother died; its roof had sheltered her tranquil infancy: in\nit she was leaving the brother that she still loved, in spite of her\nguilt and his inhumanity.\n\nLucas was not asleep. Exasperation, a disquieted conscience, and heavy\nheart had driven repose from him.\n\nAll at once, he was startled by the tones of a sweet and tremulous\nvoice near to the street door, singing the romance that he had taught\nhis sister when she was a child. He sprang from the bed, moved by an\nirresistible impulse, but instantly covered his ears with his hands as\nif to shut out the sound.\n\nThe voice sang:\n\n    \u201cPraying in God\u2019s name, sister,\n       And for his sweet mother\u2019s sake,\n     Give my little children bread,\n       And his word in payment take.\u201d\n\nStruggling with mingled emotions of rage and grief, Lucas seated\nhimself upon his couch, and beat upon the ground with his feet.\n\nThe voice, becoming all the while more low and quivering, proceeded:\n\n    \u201cHe takes a loaf, and breaks it,\n     But throws it down again,\n     For blood run out of the bread.\u201d\n\nThe brother\u2019s heart was choking him, yet, still resisting, he covered\nhis now tear-stained face with both hands. But when the voice, broken\nby sobs, continued,\n\n    \u201cAnd she that, without pity,\n     To a sister refuses bread,\n     To God\u2019s Mother doth refuse it\u201d--\n\nhe rushed to the door, and, dashing it open, ran out; and Lucia, with\na cry of joy, threw herself into his extended arms.\n\nThe next day, Uncle Bartolo remarked to his wife:\n\n\u201cWhen the devil enters into one, he locks all the doors behind him.\nBut until the last hour, his divine Majesty keeps a postern open in\nthe sinner\u2019s heart.\u201d\n\n\n     [56] Name given to the subsidy formerly levied by the\n     King of Spain for carrying on wars against the infidels.\n\n     [57] On the wane.\n\n     [58] Faded fashions.\n\n     [59] In faith.\n\n     [60] \u201cWill you please not interrupt me?\u201d\n\n     [61] Once for all.\n\n     [62] What for, my dear?\n\n     [63] I know how to behave.\n\n     [64] Don John made of Money.\n\n     [65] \u201cThe aspect of the old is full of majesty:\n           Their words are laden with the secrets of existence.\u201d\n\n     [66] An old soldier of the olden time.\n\n     [67] \u201cHush, I beg of you.\u201d\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n          THE LIQUEFACTION OF THE BLOOD OF ST. JANUARIUS.                 200\n\n                               NO. III.\n\n\nBut this is far from being the general rule. In 1543, the diary\nmentions the presence of Muleasses, Bey of Tunis, a Mohammedan, and\nrecords his expression of astonishment at what he beheld. On several\nother occasions, Mohammedans were witnesses of it; some became\nChristians. Protestant travellers from England, Denmark, Sweden, and\nGermany have written accounts of what they themselves saw. On four of\nthe six occasions when the writer of these lines was present, he can\nbear personal testimony to the presence of Protestants.\n\nIt is narrated that the liquid blood has been known to solidify\ninstantly, whenever the reliquary passed into the hands of a\nparticular canon, in his turn of office, to be presented by him to the\npeople, or when certain persons approached to venerate and kiss it,\nand would as quickly liquefy again when they withdrew. A notorious\ncase is mentioned by the Bollandists, and by other authorities, of a\nprince, whose name, for family reasons, was not given--for the matter\nwas published in his lifetime. At his approach the liquid blood used\nto become solid. His personal character left no doubt on the minds of\nthe Neapolitans why this happened.\n\nWe have already spoken of the notable differences of color, on various\ndays, or parts of the same day. The diary registers them as _bright_,\n_beautiful_, _vermilion_, _rubicund_, or as _dense_ or _dark_, or\n_blackish_, or _ash-colored_, or, again, _pale_ or _yellowish_.\nSometimes the whole mass was of one uniform tint. Sometimes there were\nseveral tints in different parts, as in 1748, when, as we saw, one\nportion was blackish and the other ash-colored, the vial being then\nfull, and the blood liquid, as afterwards appeared.\n\nAgain, the liquid blood is sometimes quite quiescent, yielding,\nindeed, to every movement of the ampulla, as water would, but when the\nampulla is at rest on its stand, remaining in it as tranquil as water,\nwith a level and smooth surface, and without the least indication of\ninternal movement. Yet often it gives forth a froth or foam, which\ncovers a part or all of the surface, which stains the glass dark or\nvermilion, and the remains or traces of which may be noticed on the\nmass when indurated afterwards; that is, if this foaming has continued\nuntil a solidification on the altar, or until the reliquary is locked\nup in the evening. Very often this foaming will cease after lasting\nhalf-an-hour or an hour. Its ending and disappearance is as fitful as\nits beginning.\n\nSometimes the motion is greater, and of a different character--an\nebullition or boiling, as the Italians call it. Portions of the liquid\nblood are thrown up a quarter of an inch, or more. Sometimes this\nbubbling has been very violent, some of the liquid being thrown up\ninto the neck of the ampulla to the very top.\n\nOn December 16, 1717, it is recorded that, before the liquefaction\ntook place, and while the blood was still hard and solid, \u201can\nexhalation was seen to rise from the hard mass, like to a little cloud,    201\nand to ascend to the top of the neck.\u201d On 24th September, 1725, \u201cthe\nblood was taken out hard, and immediately liquefied; and three or four\ntimes, of itself, it moved round in a circle within the ampulla,\nalthough the ampulla was then in its place on the altar, and\nmotionless.\u201d\n\nIt is needless to cite any more of the thousand-and-one items of such\ncharacter scattered through the diary. They all show the sincerity and\ngood faith of the writers, and the care with which the minutest facts\nwere observed, and accurately recorded on the day of their occurrence.\n\nNext to the occurrence of the liquefaction, the most important fact,\nin our judgment, is the frequent change of volume which the mass\nundergoes while liquid. We say while liquid, for we do not discover,\neither in the diary or in our researches elsewhere, any indication of\nsuch a change taking place while the blood is in its solid condition.\nBut, while liquid, such changes are so frequent and so great that the\ndiary, as we saw, noticed their absence or _quasi_-absence, during one\noctave, as something remarkable. The blood is said to be at its\nordinary or normal level when it fills about four-fifths of the space\nin the ampulla, or vial. It has been known to sink below this, but\nvery rarely. Ordinarily it is oscillating in volume, sometimes\nreaching the neck, or entering it so high as to leave only a thread of\nlight, or even filling the neck up to where it enters the mass of\nsoldering. The extreme distance between the two levels is about an\ninch and a half, and the volume must increase over twenty per cent. in\norder to rise from the ordinary level so as to fill completely the\nampulla. The days are comparatively rare when some change of volume\nis not seen, either by increase or by decrease. The change is\ngenerally gradual, yet such as may be watched and followed. Sometimes,\nhowever, it is quite rapid in the ascent or the descent, or in\nits alternations of rising and falling; sometimes almost\ninstantaneous--_in un colpo, in un tratto_.\n\nThese ordinary oscillations or changes of volume, which occur at any\ntime, may be looked on as the usual and minor form of one general and\nstriking trait or mode of action. When the increase is carried to its\nutmost extent, the vial is seen to be completely filled; and this\nfulness, in turn, presents many variations to be studied. We may\ndivide them into two classes. The first embraces all those cases in\nwhich the fulness terminates, and the blood commences to diminish in\nvolume, at any time before the close of the octave; we may call these\ncompleted periods. The second embraces all those in which the fulness\ncontinues to the end, so that, on the last day of the octave, the\nblood is replaced in its closet still completely filling the ampulla;\nthese we call incomplete periods.\n\nTo the prior class belong, first, all those many instances in which\nthe blood swelled up and filled the ampulla and commenced to sink\nagain in volume on the same day, whether after a few moments or after\nseveral hours of fulness. Again, the diary records _three_ cases\nin which it so rose one day and sank the next; _four_ cases in which\nit rose one day and sank the second day after, keeping the ampulla\ncompletely full for the entire intermediate day; _six_ cases in which\nthere were two such intermediate days; _two_ with three, and _four_\nwith four such intermediate days of complete fulness. We have thus\nnineteen cases recorded in the diary, to which we should add,             202\nperhaps, an equal number for the first category. A complete period, so\nto call it, of the fulness may vary, therefore, from a few moments to\nfive consecutive days.\n\nThe second class comprises ninety-four instances of fulness opened and\nnot completed during the octave. The varieties in these are even\ngreater than in the former class. In _nineteen_ cases the fulness, or,\nat least, its last phase, commenced on the closing day; in _five_\ncases, on the day before; in _nine_, on the third last day; in\n_eleven_, on the fourth; and in _twenty-two_ on the fifth day,\ncounting from the closing of the octave; in _twenty-six_ cases, the\nfulness began on the sixth day; and in _two_ cases, as far back as the\nseventh day, counting from the close of the octave. We have here\ntwenty-eight of these incomplete periods, longer than the longest of\nthe closed or complete periods, just mentioned, still further\ncomplicating any question as to the lengths of these periods of\nfulness.\n\nWhenever, during an octave, the ampulla is locked up at night\n_full_, it will be found _full_ the next morning. When it is locked up\nat the close of an octave in that state, it will be found in the same\nat the first opening of the next celebration, months afterwards. We\nsaid that the mass changed its volume only when in a fluid condition.\nWe may now venture to add that such changes take place only in public,\nand never while the blood is closed up in the closet, or\n_armoire_. In examining the diary very carefully, we find that, in the\nvast majority of cases, the level of the mass as stated when taken\nout--whether it be at the ordinary level, or somewhat elevated, or\nvery high, or full--perfectly agrees with the level at which it was\nstated to stand when last put up, whether the day before or at the\nclose of the preceding octave. In a number of cases, indeed, the diary\nis silent or obscure on the point; but its language often seems to\nimply this fact, or to take it for granted. Nowhere does it state the\nreverse in general terms; and we cannot find a single instance\nrecorded which establishes the contrary. The blood is always found at\nthe level at which it stood when last put up.\n\nThese ninety-four unclosed periods were, therefore, prolonged to the\nnext festival, when the ampulla was taken out still _full_. Some of\nthese periods had just commenced on the last day; others had lasted\nsix full days after the day of their commencement. Is there any marked\ndifference in their closing? Not in the day; for they all, with three\nexceptions, closed on the first day of the incoming octave, if they\nhad run over to May or September, or on December 16, if that was the\nnext exposition. In regard to time, there is no rule. The most\nnumerous class, containing twenty-six instances, varied from\n_immediately_ to _nine hours and a half_; nine times the liquefaction\noccurred in less than one hour, and nine times it delayed more than\nthree hours--the other eight times it lay between the two. The\ntwenty-two cases of the next highest class present the same\ndiversities of time, from _immediately_ to _nine hours and a half_.\nNine instances were under an hour, eight were over three hours, the\nremaining five lay between the two divisions.\n\nThe more those periods of fulness are examined, the more clearly does\nit appear that they follow no system, and can be classified or\naccounted for by no law. We see the mass swelling and increasing its\nvolume and filling the ampulla, and continuing to fill it for some        203\nmoments, or hours, or days. We can note the facts; but why this\nincrease? why does it rise so high? why to-day, and not yesterday, or\nto-morrow? why so long, or not longer? Physical science is as utterly\nunable to answer these questions as it is to assign a cause for the\nliquefaction itself, or for the various and varying phases of the\nblood of St. Januarius.\n\nAs was stated in our preceding article, the Neapolitans hold that the\nproximity of the relics of the head and the reliquary with the vials\nof the blood to each other, is ordinarily the sufficient and\ndetermining cause of the liquefaction. Their whole ritual of the\nexpositions is based upon this principle. The separation of the\nrelics, or their _quasi_-separation, by a veil thrown over the\nreliquary of the blood, is ordinarily sufficient to terminate the\nliquefaction and to indurate the blood anew. But, on the other hand,\nthe diary records a number of instances in which the blood, having\nbeen found hard, liquefied at once, even before the reliquary was\nplaced near the bust. Several times, too, it has liquefied in the\nstreets, while carried aloft in the afternoon procession of the vigil\nin May towards Santa Chiara or a _seggia_, although the bust had\nalready been carried thither in the forenoon. So, too, a liquefaction,\npartially commenced in the _Tesoro_ chapel or in the cathedral, has\noften continued or been completed during the outdoor procession\nthrough the streets, on the festival of the patronage, in December.\n\nAnother cause or condition, perhaps as important as the proximity of\nthe relics, is, in our judgment, the strong faith and the earnest\ndevotion of the attendants--a faith and devotion in which the\nNeapolitans, clergy and people, are not surpassed. It was, perhaps,\nfor this reason, that in the extraordinary expositions of which we\nhave spoken, the liquefaction so often occurred quickly, and, as the\nNeapolitans would say, _Il miracolo era bellissimo_. The devout\nstrangers to whom the favor was granted brought to it faith and piety.\nOn the few occasions when it was tardy--on none did it entirely\nfail--there may have been too strong an ingredient of mere profane\ncuriosity. Kings, and princes, and nobles of high worldly standing\nhave often visited Naples, and sometimes sought and obtained this\nfavor of an extraordinary exposition of the relics in their presences,\nthat, apart and with less danger of any intrusion on their personal\ndignity or comfort, and in the company of their chosen attendants\nonly, they might have an opportunity of witnessing the miracle at\ntheir ease. This was the length of their privilege. As for the\nliquefaction itself, they had to wait as others waited, and, perhaps,\nbecause they did not pray as others prayed, they were sometimes\ndisappointed.\n\nIn 1702, Philip V., King of Spain, to whom Naples was then subject,\nvisited the city, reaching it on the afternoon of Easter Sunday. On\nEaster Tuesday, April 18, he was present at a Pontifical High Mass\ncelebrated in the cathedral. After that long ceremony, his majesty\npassed into the _Tesoro_ chapel, where there was to be a special\nexposition of the relics, that he might venerate them and might\nwitness the liquefaction. \u201cThe blood was brought out hard; four Masses\nwere celebrated in succession (about two hours); but the saint was not\npleased to work it. The king departed, and the Masses continued. At\nthe sixth Mass, and as the king had entered his carriage at the\ncathedral door, the blood liquefied. The king returned at 22 o\u2019clock,\nand kissed the relics in the hands of his eminence in the _Tesoro_.\u201d      204\n\nHowever, the diary mentions that he did witness the liquefaction\nitself at the next regular day in May, with all the people.\n\nOther instances are given in which viceroys and nobles and princes\nwaited until they were tired out. Soon after their departure, when the\nfaithful and fervent people might freely crowd the chapel and pray,\nthe liquefaction would occur.\n\nIt is impossible to exaggerate the firmness of their faith or the\ndepth and tenacity of the affection of the Neapolitans for this\n_their_ miracle. Whatever else happens to their fair city, nothing\nmust interfere with their devotion to St. Januarius and the proper\ncelebration of these festivals--neither wars nor pestilence, nor\neruptions nor earthquakes, nor change of rulers. Once a battle raging\nin the streets prevented an outdoor procession. But, within the\ncathedral, there was a procession through the aisles and nave, and all\nthings else went on as usual.\n\nOddly enough, the greatest disturber, to judge by the simple-minded\nwriters of the diary, has been--rain. Not that the weather has any\ndirect influence on the liquefaction or its circumstances. Quite the\ncontrary. The blood liquefies all the same, and with as many attendant\nvariations, whether the day be fair or rainy, whether the season be so\ndry that the farmers are complaining of drought, and prayers have been\nordered for rain, or whether it has been raining incessantly for weeks\nand months, to the injury of the crops, and in the churches they are\npraying for fair weather; in summer, when the sun is pouring down his\nalmost tropical beams; and in winter, when the procession is confined\nto the cathedral because it is too cold to go out into the streets,\nor because the ground is covered with snow. These meteorological\nchanges have no apparent influence on the liquefaction or its\ncharacteristic circumstances.\n\nBut at Naples they sometimes have terrible deluges of rain--steady\ndownpourings such as one may witness only within or close to the\ntropics. Sometimes these have come on just at the hour to interfere\nwith the grand afternoon procession of the vigil in May, forbidding\nit, or ludicrously disarranging it, and forcing monks, friars,\npriests, seminarians, canons, and people alike to break the ranks and\nseek immediate shelter in the neighboring shops and houses. However,\ncome what might, at the worst, his eminence, or the highest\necclesiastical dignitary present, with a few attendants of waterproof\nhearts, would carry the relic, in a sedan chair or a carriage, it\nmight be, to the appointed place. Is it not all punctually set down in\nthe diary; at what corner, or in what street, the procession was\nbroken up, and who then carried the relic on, and whether still on\nfoot or in a carriage, and how many courageously accompanied him? We\nmay be sure that on arriving at their destination they never failed to\nfind the church, despite the rain, and despite the absence of\nfashionable ones, filled by devout souls, who loved their saint more\nthan they feared even such weather.\n\nPassages in the extracts we have made from the diary, and many other\npassages we might quote, indicate the feelings of alarm which fill the\nhearts of the Neapolitans when the liquefaction fails to occur, or is\nattended by circumstances which they traditionally dread. St.\nJanuarius is their patron saint. This ever-recurring liquefaction is,\nin their eyes, a perpetual and miraculous sign or evidence of his care    205\nand protection. When it occurs regularly, when the liquefaction is\ncomplete and the color of the liquid blood a bright vermilion, and\nwhen there are no sudden disturbances and only slight variations of\nlevel, the Neapolitans are happy. \u201cIt is a blessed octave.\u201d They think\nthey have evidence that all will go well with them. If, on the\ncontrary, the hard mass does not liquefy at all, or if the liquid\nblood appear turbid, dark or ash-colored, or if it rises and falls\nrapidly, or if it presents other unusual and sinister appearances,\ntheir hearts sink, and they are filled with alarm and anxiety. They\nfear that this is an indication of the displeasure of heaven, and that\nthe chastisements they deserve for their sins may soon come on them.\nWe once heard a learned Neapolitan enlarge on this theme, and cite\nvarious instances in the history of his city in which he showed a\nremarkable coincidence, at least, between such facts of the\nliquefactions and the occurrence of wars, pestilence, famine, and\ndisastrous earthquakes, or of other signal chastisements from heaven.\nWe were not sufficiently conversant with the history of Naples either\nto controvert his statements or to allege other facts to the contrary.\nIt is a subject on which one might go astray, almost as easily as if\nhe undertook to interpret the Apocalypse. But our friend professed to\nhave the history at his finger-ends, and certainly was himself\nthoroughly convinced of the truth of his opinion.\n\nTravellers are accustomed to tell amusing stories of the impatience\nand irreverence of the Neapolitans during the exposition, whenever\nthere is an unusual delay in the liquefaction. They charge them with\naddressing the saint alternately in expressions of religious homage\nand of bitter reproach, praying and beseeching him one moment and\napostrophizing him the next in slang terms of vituperation. Such\ntravellers, we may be sure, are either drawing on their own\nimagination or on the store of anecdotes they have heard from others.\nThey usually know little of Italian, and are utterly ignorant of the\npeculiar dialect of the Neapolitan people--almost a language in\nitself. The only possible excuse for making such a charge would be a\nstranger\u2019s misconception or misinterpretation of the demonstrative\ngestures they indulge in when deeply moved, and his utter ignorance of\nthe words they are uttering. We opine, however, that the motive,\ngenerally, is a wish to parade droll and amusing statements, even if\nthey be neither witty nor true.\n\nWe have been assured by many respectable clergymen of Naples, who, of\ncourse, know their own people, and often have to chide them, that\nthere is not a word of truth in this charge.\n\nThe clergy and the laity of Naples, of all classes, learned and\nunlearned alike, believe most steadfastly and earnestly in the\nmiraculous character of the liquefaction of the blood of St.\nJanuarius. Many strangers who have seen it and have examined it\ncritically have come to the same conclusion. Although the church has\nnot spoken authoritatively on the matter, still the consensus of so\nmany learned, intelligent, and pious persons who have so accepted\nit--the fact that during so many centuries it has stood the test of\ntime, and that science has not been able to explain it away or to\nreproduce it artificially--and the very character of the liquefaction\nitself, with its attendant circumstances, so clear, so plain, and so\ndecisive--all leave no room for reasonable doubt.\n\nTo complete our statement, we must, perhaps, go still further back,       206\nand inquire how it has come about that a portion of the blood of a\nChristian bishop, beheaded in the year 305, under Diocletian, and in\nvirtue of edicts by that emperor for the suppression of Christianity,\nshould, after the lapse of so many centuries, be now found in a glass\nampulla, or vial, at Naples. To some, this primary fact may, at first\nsight, appear as strange and as extraordinary, if not as\nunaccountable, as the subsequent liquefaction itself.\n\nTo an Italian Catholic, indeed, a doubt on this head would scarcely\npresent itself. The usages and the thoughts of his ancestors in the\nfaith have come down to him so naturally that they form, as it were,\npart of his being. He thinks, and feels, and knows as his fathers did\nbefore him. In such cradle-lands of Christianity, and among a people\nthat has never swerved from the faith since the early ages of the\nchurch, there is what we might term an inherited Catholic instinct, a\nreadiness and a correctness of Catholic thought in religious matters,\nwhich those of other lands that received the light of Christianity\nonly at a later period, and consequently have not such a bond of\nancestral connection with the Christians of the days of persecution,\ncan only reach by study and cultivated piety. However, even a moderate\nacquaintance with the usages and customs of those early ages will show\nin many instances that what some have considered peculiar national\ntraits of perhaps later growth are in reality deeply rooted in the\ncustoms of those ancient times; and that many a point, often set down\nas a fond fancy or a singular product of superstition, is firmly\nestablished as a truth, by historical research into their records.\n\nThis is the case with the question before us.\n\nAs we study the daily life of those early Christians, passed under\ncircumstances so very different from those of our modern life, and\nstrive to realize to ourselves their thoughts and aspirations, their\nmotives and modes of action, nothing stands out in bolder relief than\ntheir exalted conception of the honor and glory of martyrdom. In the\nexquisite pages of _Fabiola_ and of _Callista_, the learned Cardinal\nWiseman and Dr. Newman have made these early Christians live again\nbefore us; and we catch some insight into their enthusiasm on this\nsubject. To them, a martyr, dying for the faith of Christ, was--and\ntruthfully--a hero of the highest grade. _Greater love than this no\nman hath, that a man lay down his life for his friends._ John xv. 13.\n\nThey could never sufficiently honor him. For, honor him as they might,\nall they could do would fall infinitely short of the honor which God\nhad already bestowed on his soul in heaven, and that which he would\nbestow on his body in the resurrection. A martyr\u2019s blood, in their\nview, stood next in rank to the blood of the Saviour.\n\nTheir daily life made martyrdom the prominent subject of their\nthoughts. Day after day, they saw their brethren seized, imprisoned,\ntortured, and put to death for the faith. Each day, any one of\nthemselves might be seized and led to martyrdom. The greatest of all\ntriumphs, and the surest passport to everlasting bliss, was to\npersevere unto the end in that conflict; the greatest of all\nmisfortunes was to fail and renounce or deny the faith for fear of\ndeath. Each one strove to hold himself ever ready for the trial. Their\npastoral injunctions; their mutual exhortations; their most precious      207\nliterature--the _Acta Martyrum_; the ornamentation of their chapels\nand crypts, still visible in the frescoes of the catacombs; the site\nof their chosen sanctuaries, amid the tombs of their martyred\nbrethren; the very altars at which they worshipped; the tombs of their\nmore glorious martyrs--everything co-operated to keep alive this high\nesteem of martyrdom, and to stir up their hearts to courage, and even\nto a yearning for so glorious a crown, and so happy an ending of this\nlife of trials and sorrow.\n\nWhile a confessor of Christ, as they called him, lay still in chains,\nthey used every means to enter the prison and to visit him--sometimes\navailing themselves of legal rights, sometimes under various pretexts,\nsometimes by bribery; when these would all fail, then by stealth and\nat every risk. For he was to be strengthened by the sacraments and\nencouraged by their words, or they were to be strengthened by his\nexample; and especially they would not lose the opportunity of\ncommending themselves to his prayers, and of seeking the blessing of a\nchosen friend of God.\n\nWhen he was led forth to trial, or to torture, or to death, they would\nglide in among the crowd pressing around him, that he might be cheered\nand sustained by the sight of Christian faces or by their outspoken\nexhortations, and that they might catch and embalm in their hearts\nevery courageous word of faith he spoke to his judges, to the\nexecutioners, and to themselves or to the crowd, and afterward be able\nto bear testimony and to record the heroic triumph of another martyr.\n\nAfter his death, they spared no effort to obtain possession of his\nmortal remains, as of a most precious treasure. Their very earnestness\non this point was not unfrequently made an occasion of aggravating the\nsentence. After execution, so the judge would order, the body must not\nbe delivered to his friends, according to ordinary usage. These\nobstinate and fanatical Christians must be thwarted in their dearest\nwish, or, rather, in their criminal purpose, of honoring one whom the\nlaws had sentenced to an ignominious death. Let the body be burned,\nand the ashes be cast to the winds or to the running streams; or let\nthe vultures and ravenous dogs consume it; or let it be sunk by\nweights in deep waters; let it be done away with in some manner, so\nthat the hated Christians be balked of their purpose.\n\nAt times this was successfully done. Often, however--even despite\nthese orders--entreaties and bribes to the soldiers and executioners\nwould prevail to obtain the body, or at least the fragments of it. If\nthey failed, stratagems would be used, and persevering search made,\neven at great personal risk, to recover it. Very often, as the\nmartyrologies and _Acta Martyrum_ tell us, it was in such attempts\nthat the Christians were discovered, apprehended, and themselves\ncondemned as fresh victims.\n\nWhen the execution was by beheading or dismemberment, or such other\nmode as caused the effusion of blood, the Christians were careful to\ngather this up in any way they could. Not unfrequently it was all they\ncould recover. Cloths and sponges sucked it up from the hard pavement\nof wood or stones. The earth saturated with it was carefully gathered\nup and borne away, that at home and at leisure they might carefully\nseparate the blood from the earthy matter, and place it reverently in\nsome vase, ordinarily of glass, sometimes of earthen ware, and in a\nfew instances of bronze. Sometimes a portion of sponge or of cloth        208\nso saturated would be kept as a precious jewel in a locket of silver\nor gold, and be preserved in the oratory or chapel of a Christian\nhousehold, or even be reverently borne on the person. Ordinarily,\nhowever, the vials or vases into which the martyrs\u2019 blood had been\ngathered, or the open vases containing the saturated sponge or the\nbundle of blood-stained cloths, would be placed with the body in the\ntomb; or the vials might be built into the masonry of the tomb, near\nthe head, in such a way as to be partially visible from without.\n\nThe _Acta Martyrum_--the official records of the sufferings, death,\nand deposition or burial of the martyrs, written out at the time by\nappointed officers of the church--bear frequent testimony to the\nwidespread existence of this custom. Other Christian writings, in\nprose and in poetry, refer to it frequently. We find it prevailing at\nRome and in all Italy, in Carthage, in Sebaste, in Nicomedia, in Gaul,\nand throughout the church. It was the universal custom.\n\nAbout the time when the body of St. Januarius was transported from the\noriginal tomb where it had been laid during the persecution, to the\nchurch of St. Januarius, _extra muros_, at Naples, similar\ntranslations of the bodies of martyrs took place elsewhere. St.\nAmbrose, the great Bishop of Milan, gives an account of such a\nceremony for the martyrs St. Gervase and St. Protasius, and again for\nthe martyrs St. Vitalis and St. Agricola. He mentions finding in the\ntombs, in both cases, the blood of the martyrs which had been gathered\nand placed there. St. Gaudentius, Bishop of Brixia, about the same\ntime, mentions a similar fact. Some centuries later, the northern\nbarbarians were making raids into Italy, and had repeatedly broken\ninto and desecrated the sepulchres in the catacombs, either in mere\nwantonness or in search for the treasures which they thought might be\nhidden there. In order to save the venerated relics of the martyrs\nfrom such outrages, the popes opened the tombs of the martyrs in the\nportions of the catacombs then accessible--a great portion being\nalready closed up, either by the falling in of the roof or by the act\nof the Christians centuries before--and transferred the remains to the\nchurches within the city for greater safety. In opening the tombs,\nthese vases were often found, and hundreds of them are now in the\nchurches or in the sacred museums of Rome. Three centuries ago, Bosio,\nand after him Aringhi, Boldetti, Mamachi, and others, penetrated into\nthe catacombs, searched them anew, and came upon some of those\nportions which had not been disturbed at the time of the general\nremoval. In such portions not a few unopened and undisturbed tombs of\nmartyrs were found. Within lay the remains of the body--bones and\ndust--with sometimes the rusted fragments of the instrument of death,\nand frequently the vial, or ampulla, of the martyr\u2019s blood. During the\nlast forty years, the work of investigating the catacombs, which had\nbeen intermitted, has been taken up afresh and prosecuted with\nearnestness and skill by F. Marchi, Cav. de Rossi, and other eminent\narch\u00e6ologists. They still come occasionally across the tombs of\nmartyrs, evidently untouched since the day of deposition, and within\nthem, or in the mortar by the head, the vases of blood are still\nfound. Where these vials are so placed in the mortar as to be visible\nand accessible from without, the thin glass has generally been broken.\nBut the bottom still remains firmly set in the mortar, and contains       209\nor is covered to some extent by a thin, dry, reddish crust adhering to\nit. This crust or film is all that is left of the blood the vase\noriginally contained. Vials, or ampull\u00e6, in the interior of the tombs\nare of course perfectly preserved. It is indeed interesting to look on\none of them, and to mark exactly the line to which the liquid blood\nonce reached, and the purple hue of the sediment or crust now left,\nwith its brighter or darker shades of color, perhaps from the\ncharacter of the blood, more probably from the thickness or thinness\nof the crust itself. Under all the accumulated evidence, one scarcely\nneeds to read the rude inscription found and still legible, although\nonly scratched in the mortar when it was soft: SANGUIS, or SANG:\nSATURNINI, _The blood of Saturninus_. We know that this is blood\nwhich once flowed from a martyr\u2019s veins, in testimony of his faith in\nChrist our Lord.\n\nIn the 17th century, when Bosio, Boldetti, and others brought out such\nvases from the catacombs, and special attention was directed to them,\nthe nature of this dry reddish crust adhering to the interior was\nexamined chemically. There was no discordance in the results obtained.\n\nAmong those who made such an examination was the celebrated Leibnitz,\na Protestant, among the ablest and most learned men of that age. He\ngives an account of his process, and the decision at which he arrived:\n_This coloring matter on the glass is sanguineous_. Some years ago,\nthe present Pontiff, Pius IX., had a new analysis made according to\nthe fullest and most accurate tests of modern chemistry. The answer\nwas still the same: This substance is, so far as chemistry can decide,\nprecisely what ought to remain as the residuum of human blood.\n\nIt is clear that, both as to the custom of the early Christians of\ncarefully gathering up the blood of their martyrs, of placing it in\nampull\u00e6, or vases, and religiously preserving it, and likewise as to\nthe identification of the ampull\u00e6 themselves, the testimony is all\nthat can be desired. Bosio, Aringhi, Boldetti, Mamachi, Gaume, Marchi,\nRaoul-Rochette, De Rossi, Perret--all who have studied the question,\nare unanimous in recognizing these numerous old Roman vials, or\nampull\u00e6, still found in the catacombs and tombs or preserved in the\nchurches, as the identical vials, or ampull\u00e6, so used by the ancient\nChristians. On this point, there remains not the slightest room for\ndoubt.\n\nIt is therefore but reasonable that there should exist in Naples a\nvial, or ampulla, of the blood of St. Januarius. He was in his day a\ndistinguished bishop of the church. His martyrdom was public, and\nattracted the attention of the Christians. It was by beheading. There\nwas no conceivable reason why the Christians should omit in that\ninstance what they were universally so careful to do in such cases. On\nthe contrary, to judge from the ancient accounts we have of the\nmartyrdom of St. Januarius and his six companions, the Christians\nfound no extraordinary difficulty in obtaining the bodies, and\nentombing them in their usual mode. When, eighty or ninety years\nlater, the church had been firmly established in peace, the body of\nSt. Januarius was taken from the original tomb and brought to Naples,\nas the bodies of the others were taken to the various churches which\nclaimed them.\n\nThe very presence, therefore, of an ampulla in the custody of the\nchurch of Naples, together with the other relics of St. Januarius, is     210\nunder the circumstances _prima facie_ evidence of its own\nauthenticity--evidence which cannot be impugned, except by attempting\nto overturn a well-known and universally admitted usage of the early\nChristian church, or else by a supposition, equally gratuitous and\nabsurd, that the ampulla which originally was in existence, and was\nprized beyond measure and carefully preserved, was somehow lost, and\nanother fraudulently substituted in its stead. We need not recur to\nthe olden traditions of the church of Naples or its legends concerning\nthis relic--traditions and legends found, too, we believe, among the\nGreeks, whose intercourse with Magna Grecia, as Southern Italy was\ncalled, was more intimate and continued longer than with any other\nportion of Italy. We scarcely need the testimony of _Fabius Jordanus_,\nquoted by Caraccioli, going to show that, so far back as A.D. 685, it\nwas the custom of the clergy of Naples to bear the relics of the head.\n\nThe historical evidence in favor of the genuineness of the relic is\nample and satisfactory. There would not be a moment\u2019s hesitation on\nthe point but for the very vain hope which some minds may entertain\nthat, by declining to admit the genuineness of the blood, they will\nsomehow escape the difficulties of the liquefaction. As if the\nliquefaction of any other substance, with all the circumstances which\ncharacterize the liquefaction at Naples, as we have set them forth in\nour previous articles, would not be for them as hard if not a harder\nnut to crack than the liquefaction of the blood of St. Januarius!\n\nHaving, therefore, established the genuineness of the relic, the next\nquestion which presents itself is this: Are we to attribute the\namount of the blood still to be seen within the ampulla when at its\nordinary level, and its condition when hard, to the continuous action\nof natural causes; or are we to recognize in those points the effects\nof that supernatural force to which the liquefaction itself is to be\nattributed? Would or would not the agency of natural causes have\nresulted in a greater reduction of the original volume of the blood,\nand in a far different condition of the residuum, at the present time?\n\nWe know pretty accurately the composition of human blood. The\nproportions of the several ingredients going to constitute it may vary\nsomewhat according to the health and the food of individuals. Without\nentering into the refined, and as yet not fully accepted results of\nthe latest qualitative analysis, it will be sufficient to give the\nfollowing table of the constituents of the healthy blood of man:\n\n  Water,                  790\u00b737 }\n  Albumen,                 67\u00b780 }\n  Oxygen,             }          }\n  Nitrogen,           }          }     serum,\n  Carbonic acid,      }          }      869\u00b715\n  Extractive matters, }    10\u00b798 }\n  Salts,              }          }\n  Coloring matter,    }          }\n  Fibrine,                  2\u00b795  }\n  H\u00e6matine,       2\u00b727 }          }\n  Globuline,    125\u00b763 }          }    clot,\n                ------            }     130\u00b785\n        Blood globules,   127\u00b790  }\n                        --------      --------\n                        1,000\u00b700      1,000\u00b700\n\nWater constitutes nearly four-fifths of the entire quantity. If it be\ndriven off by evaporation, only a dry mass would remain behind.\n\nWhen blood issues from the veins, it first passes through the process\nof coagulation, the successive steps of which have been carefully\nexamined. Perfectly liquid as it comes out, the blood soon thickens,\nthrough the action of the fibrine it contains, into a firm, elastic,\nuniform, jelly-like mass. Soon drops of clear, amber-colored fluid\nbegin to exude from the mass of jelly, and accumulate until the whole     211\nmass is divided into two parts--the serum, a transparent, nearly\ncolorless fluid, in which there floats the clot, or crassamentum, a\nfirm, red and opaque mass. In time, the clot is further divided. The\nfibrine is seen at top, forming a layer of considerable consistence,\nsoft, elastic, tenacious, and of a yellowish white color; the under\nportion, consisting of the heavier parts of the clot which have\ngradually settled down to that position, is a red mass, made up\nchiefly of the blood globules.\n\nFurther exposure would by degrees eliminate the aqueous portion by\nevaporation, and the progress of decomposition would tend to free the\ngases in the other constituents, and thus still further to diminish\nthe mass. But no experiments, instituted by physicists, can compare,\nin time at least, with the instances presented to us in the vases of\nthe catacombs. There, traces on the glass still show clearly to what\nlevel the blood, or at least the clot, originally reached; and we see\nwhat has remained after a lapse of sixteen hundred years--a crust of\ndry reddish powder adhering to and coating the sides and bottom of the\nvessel.\n\nBoldetti, however, mentions three instances in which such ampull\u00e6 were\nfound in the catacombs containing a residuum of the blood still thick\nand slightly liquid. And, if we are not mistaken, something similar\nmay be seen in some other vials preserved here and there, and held to\ncontain a portion of the blood of certain martyrs.\n\nThe early Christians of Italy gave up the old Roman custom of\nincremation, or burning the bodies of the dead, and adopted instead\nthe Eastern rite of sepulture. In some instances, at least, they seem\nto have used spices and ointments, as the Jews and Eastern nations\ngenerally did; and some of them might even have had a knowledge of the\nantiseptic preparations used by the Egyptians. They never prepared the\ndead as mummies, but they may at times have put some antiseptic\ningredient into the blood, tending by its chemical action somehow to\nretard the escape of the water and the decomposition of the mass. If\nthis were really done or not, we believe modern science cannot decide;\nand the historical evidence is not clear.\n\nSomething may be due, also, to the mode in which they would sometimes\nclose a narrow-necked vessel of glass. When it had received its\ncontents, the glass of the neck would be heated, probably by the flame\nof a blowpipe, until it became soft and pliable. The sides would then\nbe pressed together until they coalesced and became united, thus\nobliterating the orifice; or else molten glass would be carefully\ndropped on the lips of the mouth, until the whole was entirely coated\nover and perfectly closed. When either was followed and the work was\ndone perfectly, the ampulla would be, in fact, hermetically sealed.\nThe air would thus be excluded, and evaporation nearly arrested.\nPlaced in a _loculus_ or grave in the dry earth of the catacombs,\ntwenty-five or thirty-five feet beneath the surface of the earth, the\nampulla would also be subjected to an ever-equable temperature of\nabout 58\u00b0 Fahr. Under such circumstances, especially if we admit the\npresence of some antiseptic ingredient, it may be possible that\ndecomposition would be very slow. But, after all, the glass sides of\nthese ampull\u00e6 are thin, and glass is porous, and sixteen centuries is\na very long time. Even were the sides far thicker than they are,\nevaporation would have slowly taken place, the gaseous products of\ndecomposition would have gradually passed through into the outer          212\natmosphere, and only the dry solid residuum would be left, as we\nordinarily find it in the ampull\u00e6 from the catacombs. The case of the\nampulla containing the blood of St. Januarius is not open to these\ndoubts. We are not able to say, indeed, whether it was actually closed\nin either of the modes we have indicated. As it stands in the present\nreliquary, of which we have given an account, the mouth enters so\ndeeply into the upper mass of soldering within the case that the eye\ncannot discover the manner of closure. Before it was placed in this\nreliquary, five hundred and seventy or seven hundred and thirty years\nago, this could probably have been seen; but we have found no record\nthrowing light on the subject. We presume it was done in one or the\nother of the modes we have described. It is certainly so tightly\nclosed that not a drop of the liquid blood within has ever been known\nto ooze out.\n\nBut this ampulla has not been lying in the low and equable temperature\nof an underground vault of the catacombs. It has been preserved in the\nupper and variable atmosphere of a city, subject for many centuries to\nthe excessive heats of almost tropical summers, and to the cold winds\nthat blow down at times from mountains covered with snow. By no law of\nphysics could a mass of blood so situated escape the natural\nconsequence--a vast diminution of bulk by the loss of water and the\nescape of gases. The film that coats the interior of the smaller\nampulla seen in the same case or reliquary, so like the film seen in\nthe whole and in the broken ampull\u00e6 of the catacombs and churches\ngenerally, shows, we think, what would have been the natural course.\n\nThat the larger ampulla should, on the contrary, have lost nothing in\nthe volume of its contents--that it should still be four-fifths\nfilled, although for centuries exposed, as we have said, to heat and\ncold--that this general permanence of bulk and of character should be\nmaintained, although eighteen or twenty times a year the mass\nalternates from a solid to a fluid condition, and passes through many\nsubordinate changes of color and volume--these facts seem to us not\nonly utterly inexplicable, but directly contrary to all we know of\nphysical laws. We place them along side the grand fact of the\nliquefaction itself, as being in some measure its characteristic\nconcomitants. Still, should any one deem these questions too obscure\nto be peremptorily decided, we shall not now discuss them. We are\nquite willing to let them stand or fall with the more prominent and\nimportant and more tangible question of the liquefaction itself. Of\nthat we shall now proceed to treat.\n\n                          TO BE CONTINUED.\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n                        THE WAYSIDE SPRING.                               213\n\n             FROM THE FRENCH OF ALPHONSE DE LAMARTINE.\n\n\n           As here is quaffed a sweet forgetfulness\n               Of the long journey yet to go,\n           So unto all who through life\u2019s pathways press,\n               Lord, from thy rock let waters flow!\n             Let thy sweet grace refreshment be!\n             On earth we wander wearily,\n               And in a thirst that will not cease.\n             Oh! let each dry and dusty lip\n             From thy deep hidden fountain sip\n               Sweet draughts of love and peace.\n\n           Ah! every soul drinks its own cup of bliss.\n               Some the delights of glory bless;\n           One finds it in a little daughter\u2019s kiss,\n               Another in a wife\u2019s caress.\n             The secret friendships of the heart,\n             The rapture of creative art,\n               Each hive its own sweet honey stores;\n             To every lip let torrents burst\n             From life\u2019s great fount; but I--_I_ thirst\n               For the eternal shores.\n\n           Earth\u2019s dreams are but a bitterness to those\n               Whose yearnings are for love divine.\n           No rivulet sparkles here, no runlet flows,\n               To satisfy this thirst of mine.\n             What shall assuage it? The desire\n             That heavenward ever doth aspire,\n               And sigheth ceaselessly;\n             The sweetness that in suffering lies,\n             And tear-drops showering from my eyes,\n               Are hope\u2019s one draught for me.\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n                             VALENTINE.                                   214\n\n                FROM THE REVUE DU MONDE CATHOLIQUE.\n\n\n                                 I.\n\n\u201cFrankly, my dear friend, tell me, is she not charming? Does she not\nlend a certain grace to her white dress, and a brilliancy to her blue\nribbons? Is she not the prettiest flower in my garden?\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd my Alfred, dear Madame de Guers, does he not look well by her\nside? Are there many young men in our village who appear to such\nadvantage near this fair and graceful darling, now in the flower of\nher youth?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat you say is true, my friend. We have both of us, thank God, fine\nchildren--noble, virtuous, and good; and I hope they will be happy.\u201d\n\n\u201cThey will make a very handsome couple, at all events,\u201d concluded M.\nMaubars, rubbing his hands and smiling contentedly.\n\nThus spoke two old friends, as they sat quietly, one summer evening,\nin the shadow of the hop-vines of a pretty green arbor, and talked\naway in this simple, lively, and joyous manner, while they observed\ntheir children as they appeared here and there in the garden-walks.\n\nWhen people have passed fifty, and known each other since they went to\nthe same school in childhood, and during the long succeeding years\nhave resided pretty much in the same place, they are very apt, when\ntalking together, to speak openly from their hearts, especially if\nthose hearts are filled to the brim and running over with justifiable\npaternal pride and motherly tenderness. And it was true that the dear\nAlfred, the only and cherished son of M. Maubars, was handsome,\nhonest, active, and gifted, and, thanks to the fortune which he would\ninherit, would one day take his place among the most respectable\ncitizens of the province. As to Madame de Guers, this fair and worthy\nold lady, with white hair, in whom all the select souls of the little\ntown saluted and recognized a sister, all the poor a benefactress, and\nall the afflicted a friend, she had never been a mother. She had\nmarried late, less from inclination than duty, to obey a vow of her\nparents and fulfil a family project; she had cared for, with an\nadmirable devotion, and supported with a no less admirable equality of\ntemper, the precocious infirmities and frequent brusqueries of M. de\nGuers, who, as former captain of a vessel, had lived a silent, sombre,\ndeserted life in an old cold-looking little house on the coast. But\none happy day the sun seemed to shine brighter for her, and the\nradiant sentiment of an unknown happiness mingled with her tears and\nher regrets, as one of the friends of her childhood, a poor widow, in\ndying, confided to her the education and guardianship of her deserted\ninfant. What a complete happiness, what a recompense for all the\nsunless days, the gloomy and heavy hours, so faithfully supported! M.\nde Guers, though very ill at the time, consented to receive the child,\non condition, as he added peremptorily, \u201cthat she should be kept very\nneat and make no noise\u201d--this his precise and solemn declaration. The     215\nlittle Valentine seemed to understand what was expected of her, and,\nthough stirring, vigorous, and lively, rarely a rent was seen in her\nlittle Indian silk, never a spot on her red lips nor her cherubic\nforehead. When she happened to fall, she smothered her sobs and cries;\nwhen she remembered the past, she wept low for her mother--and all\nthis not to displease the old gentleman, shut up in his close parlor,\nwhere he contemplated with astonishment mingled with pity and respect\nhis two unfortunate legs--done up in flannel. Time, childhood, and\nnatural gaiety combining, the little girl began even to find herself\nperfectly happy in this old house, where she was cherished, and\nnothing left undone for her needs, her games, or her repose.\n\nNeed we say that her adopted mother was happy? At the end of the long\nnights of want of sleep and suffering that she passed with the ill and\nimpatient old man, she ran for a moment to the little chamber above,\nand watched the sweet pet, with brown eyes and rosy cheeks, as she\nwoke to her morning\u2019s happiness; she felt the dear little round arms\npress her neck, the sweet tender lips imprinted on her own, and she\nthanked God for this blessing. The little toilet made, and the\nbreakfast over, she carried down-stairs happiness enough for\nhalf-a-day. Later, when her voice trembled at the end of some long\nlecture, or her arms were wearied at some endless rubbing, she looked\nout the window, saw the little one disporting in the sun, playing\nhide-and-seek among the lilacs, or smiling to her from amidst the\nroses, and, at this sight, it seemed her cup of joy was full, that the\nspring light played even in the sick man\u2019s chamber, and for the time\nshe forgot whether she was guardian or victim. Thus she lived on,\nconsoled and strengthened by the child, consoling and strengthening\nher husband, until the day when M. de Guers died, and both wept his\nloss--Valentine with time having learned to love him; and he himself,\nwon by the grace and beauty of the child, had often so far unbended as\nto keep time for her with his crutch while she danced all alone before\nhis window in the garden.\n\nFrom this moment, Madame de Guers gave Valentine all her time, her\nheart, her cares, her tenderness. I leave you to imagine how such\nprecious gifts, with the aid of years, added to everything lovely and\nnoble in the child. Of all the young girls of C----, Valentine at\neighteen was not only one of the most beautiful, but, better still,\nthe best, the simplest, the most tender, the humblest, the most\njoyous, and the best loved: the most ill-natured of the citizens could\nnot refuse her their homage, and her adopted mother loved her to\nexcess and with pride and delight; M. Maubars, too, the oldest friend\nof the house, and his son, the elegant Alfred, saw in her perfection a\ntreasure, and their united wonder. Then at eighteen the future is so\nbeautiful, the horizon so pure, dreams so sweet, and friends so\ntender! How happy, then, was our Valentine at this moment, when,\njoyous under the eyes of her mother, gay and confiding in the presence\nof her future husband, and gracious and pretty as she always was in\nher simple and quiet toilet, she wandered hither and thither in the\ngarden, breathing the air, gathering the flowers, and breaking from\nthe trees the large snow-balls that shed their petals on her lustrous\nbrown hair.\n\nWe do not know exactly what Alfred and Valentine were talking about in    216\nthe garden-walk, as running from side to side to form their bouquet\nthey chanced so often to meet. But, under the arbor, they were more\ngrave, calmer, and certainly more mature, and they spoke of business.\n\n\u201cIf you will permit it, my dear friend, I should like the young couple\nto live in my house,\u201d said M. Maubars. \u201cIt is, I may say, without\nvanity, one of the most comfortable and best furnished in the town. As\nto me, you know, I am becoming a monk, or a bear, or a house-rat. The\nrolling of the half-dozen coaches and the three or four cabs our town\npossesses is sufficient to trouble my digestion, and almost deafens\nme; so I think, in order to plant my cabbages in peace, I had better\nlodge in the pavilion of my large garden at Vaux, which is not more\nthan a league from the town. My good old Baptistine will accompany me,\nand keep the pot boiling. Every evening the children can come and see\nme, that is, every fine evening; and you can have them right by\nyou--nothing to do but cross the street, and walk a few steps on the\nquay, ring the little bell, the latch will fly up, and there will be\nValentine in a clean dress and red ribbon coming to meet you, for her\ndelicate hearing would distinguish your step among a thousand others\non the same pavement.\u201d\n\n\u201cPoor dear child! I don\u2019t want to be selfish, and yet it is hard to\npart with her,\u201d murmured Madame de Guers, while stifling a sigh.\n\n\u201cDo you call that parting with her, when I tell you she will be right\nunder your eye? And then, my dear friend, I must tell you you have\nbecome very worldly of late. You are obliged to accompany Valentine to\nthis and that soir\u00e9e, and it fatigues you, absorbs and puts you out\naltogether. When it comes my Alfred\u2019s turn to do all this for her,\nyou will see how you will improve, and old ladies always recover so\nnaturally. Confess it, my dear Madame de Guers, have you not for some\ntime been very negligent of yourself and your old people?\u201d\n\n\u201cAlas, yes! poor good old people!\u201d replied the respectable lady, with\na sweet smile. \u201cYet every morning, after Mass, I stop to see them.\nTrue, my child monopolizes much of the time I should give to them, but\nshe loves them too: she has so excellent a heart! How often I have\nseen her, when quite a child, take from her weekly allowance to buy\njujube for old Manou, who has catarrh so badly, and tobacco for\nP\u00e9rine, whose happiness is in smoking! And how she takes care of them\nwhen necessary, my friend! How merry she makes them, and consoles\nthem, and reads them good books, and the Scripture she explains so\nprettily! In truth, this humble work will not perish with me: I have\nsome one to whom I can confide it.\u201d\n\nThis demands an explanation. Madame de Guers was not only an\nexcellent, tender, and devoted mother, a constant and generous friend,\nbut she was, at the same time, profoundly pious and sincerely\ncharitable. The death of M. de Guers had left in her soul a bitter and\nsecret sorrow, which she had never been able to console. The former\nlieutenant of the service, in spite of the solicitations and tears of\nhis Christian and devoted wife, had bid farewell to this world in a\nmanner far from exemplary, dying, without doubt, peaceably and bravely\nenough, but without repentance, without hope, without penitence,\nneither fixing his eyes on the cross nor listening to the absolution\nof the cur\u00e9. So, for the poor, tender soul of the wife there remained\na gnawing regret, a continual terror, and at the price of any             217\nausterities, of any sacrifices, she wished to secure the eternal\nsalvation of this obstinate husband. God only knows what\nmortifications she practised in secret, to gain a little every day\ntowards the tender and sublime end she proposed; and, above all, she\nopenly redoubled her works of fervor and charity. A part of the money\nleft her by her husband had been employed by her in a house of refuge,\nwhere ten or twelve old, infirm women, the very poorest of the\ndepartment, could live comfortably and in peace until the end of their\ndays, and at the low price of reciting every day from their bench in\nthe chapel a prayer for the repose and salvation of the soul of Jean\nLouis de Guers, former officer of the king\u2019s fleet. We said before\nthat Madame de Guers had given Valentine all her heart, her time, and\nher life: we should, nevertheless, have remarked that she reserved a\nportion for the poor old recluses of her little hospital, not finding\nit a difficult matter to reconcile, in her humble and peaceable\nexistence, happiness and duty, charity and love.\n\n\u201cMy dear old pensioners,\u201d she said again, while regarding from a\ndistance her charming adopted daughter, who smiled on her from amidst\nthe shady trees, \u201cthey will be truly happy to find after me this dear\nchild, who will, I am sure, possess the courage and strength to\nreplace me. Good little Valentine! she has already given them, in my\nname, a portion of her heart, and to do so she needs to be as generous\nas in truth she is, for I could have given a much more brilliant\nheritage to this dear child had I not already adopted my old people.\nHer mother, alas! died without fortune, and for me, I have still\nremaining forty thousand francs, invested in rentes in the state, and\nmy little property here. This is all, my good Maubars, I have to give\nher.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, well, my dear friend, don\u2019t trouble yourself. The whole will\namount to sixty thousand francs, at the lowest figure. Valentine is\ntreasure enough in herself, and don\u2019t need any more.\u201d\n\n\u201cA treasure! Yes, indeed, you have spoken the truth!\u201d replied the\nnoble woman, fixing on her interlocutor a look radiant with joy,\nhappiness, and confidence; \u201cand as you make me so happy, my brave\nMaubars, in speaking as you do, I am not ashamed to confess I have\noften thought--have often feared--well, don\u2019t blame me; nothing, you\nknow, is so restless and timid as a mother--I have feared that a dowry\nso small could not respond to the legitimate views of a young man like\nAlfred, who can aspire to the best match in the country. I dare not\ntell you how this secret doubt has tortured my heart. It would have\nbeen so painful, so frightful to think that my want of foresight might\nhave prepared so bitter a disappointment for my dearly loved\nValentine.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd who speaks of disappointment, cowardly mamma that you are?\u201d\nreplied M. Maubars, with the good hearty laugh of the retired\nsuccessful merchant. \u201cOf course I do not mean that any dowry is to be\ndespised, and, I will add, if this were larger, it were so much the\nbetter. But the moment that the question is between it and you and\nValentine, Alfred and I will accept what you have in all confidence.\nLet there be no more mention of these things between us any more than\nthere is just now in the conversation of that happy couple smiling and\nbabbling among the roses.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow good you are, Maubars,\u201d replied the adopted mother with a sigh       218\nof relief. \u201cAssuredly,\u201d she continued with a sweet and mischievous\nsmile, \u201cI am very sure that it is not with dowry or business that they\nare entertaining themselves just now.\u201d\n\nThis you may be assured of, my readers, for, just then, Valentine,\nspreading into a sweet smile her fine and delicate lips, while her\nbrilliant eyes sparkled above the cheeks as rounded and satiny as the\npetals of her roses, said to her partner, who was coming toward her:\n\n\u201cYou had better believe me, Mr. Alfred. We will not go to Paris. Paris\nis very far off, and it costs a great deal to go there. But we will go\nevery evening and see dear papa in his little pavilion at Vaux. Won\u2019t\nit be charming to do just as we did when we were little, ten years\nago, just us two alone, you and I, running through the ruts and the\nfields, gathering the new hay and the herbs covered with dew?\u201d\n\nAnd the simple child, clapping her white hands, gently smiled still\nmore joyously at the innocent, truant projects with which she proposed\nto inaugurate their future housekeeping. Then, Alfred having offered\nhis arm, she accepted it a moment in order to adjust with her young\nintended some other detail of great importance, which she must tell\nher mamma immediately--mamma holding her breath meanwhile, hearing\nvaguely the murmur of the wind in the arbor and smiling with\ntenderness as her child approached.\n\n\u201cMamma,\u201d cried Valentine, throwing her arms around her mother\u2019s neck,\nand with a caressing and infantine movement mingling the waves of her\nlustrous hair with the fine, heavy gray curls, \u201cdid you not say that\nthe anniversary of your birth would come in two weeks, the second of\nnext month, and that you would love to see Alfred and me choose that\nday to celebrate our betrothal?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, my darling,\u201d replied Madame de Guers gently.\n\n\u201cVery well, dear mamma, it is all arranged; we will exchange our rings\non the same day that gave me so dear a mamma. But have you decided\nanything about the invitations?\u201d\n\n\u201cI have at least thought of them, my child. We will have, I think, the\ngreater part of those of our own society, and especially, you\nunderstand, all your young friends.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, just as you wish. But is it to be only for the evening, dear\nmamma?\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! my little ambitious one wishes to give a whole day to her\n_f\u00eate_.\u201d\n\n\u201cIndeed I do, mamma; I have dreamed of it even, so I may as well\nconfess. I want particularly in the morning to have those I invite al\nto myself; I will receive them, lodge them, and serve them with my own\nhands. O mamma! it will be so nice, in the shady part of the garden,\namong the flowers, to set the long tables, and have an excellent\nbreakfast, good wine, cakes, a roast, and Pierrot the violinist with\nhis violin, and the baskets all filled with flowers! And my guests\nwill be so surprised, and so pleased, my dear good mamma!\u201d\n\n\u201cBut who are they, then?\u201d\n\n\u201cYour old women, dear mamma.\u201d\n\nMadame de Guers\u2019s response was to take the pretty brown head of the\ncharming child in her trembling hands, and to press it tenderly and\nlong upon her lips, while a gentle shivering of admiration and love\nmade her heart beat.\n\n\u201cIt is said,\u201d she replied at last; \u201cthe table shall be set for\nfifteen, and there shall be cakes and violins, and wine and flowers.      219\nYou shall serve them, my child, and my old people will believe they\nare at the wedding.\u201d\n\nThen, as the first stars began to dot the pure sky, and the happy and\nunited group rose to leave the perfumed shelter of the garden, Madame\nde Guers, more joyous and prouder than ever, held back on purpose to\nlet the young people pass before her, while she whispered in the ear\nof her old friend, who was philosophically taking in the whole scene:\n\n\u201cMy good Maubars, did you not say, just now, my Valentine is a\ntreasure?\u201d\n\n\n                                 II.\n\nTwo weeks afterward, the air being of the softest, and the sky most\nradiant, Valentine received with great joy and pomp her morning guests\non this the day of her betrothal. Everything passed conformably to the\nannounced programme: the large table was ornamented and covered with a\nlong white cloth; the light wine of the country filled the glasses;\nthe cakes appeared large and gilded; and the roast was cooked to\nperfection. At this succulent and cordial banquet the twelve old women\narranged themselves in order, and Valentine waited on them, cutting up\nthe mutton in rosy slices, distributing the pieces of cake with her\npretty little white hand, upon which shone the golden ring, with its\nblue stone, that Alfred had sent her that morning to wear until she\ntook the other that would enchain her for life. The poor old gossips\nfeasted with a good heart, and laughed as they tippled, their glasses\ntumbling against each other; while the sparrows, somewhat ousted,\npiped in the branches, astonished at so much noise, then dropped\ngently to the earth to peck at the crumbs of cake that fell in the\ngrass; and, to crown all, the violin of Pierrot, seated at his post\nunder the arbor, played for the delighted old women all the minuets,\ngavottes, and hops of the good old time.\n\nYou can judge of the gratitude and general joy.\n\n\u201cGod will take you to his holy paradise, good and beautiful young\nlady!\u201d said mother P\u00e9rine, as she received from the hands of the\npretty child her third slice of mutton.\n\n\u201cWhat are you saying there, mother P\u00e9rine?\u201d cried Babet, her usual\nantagonist. \u201cWhat kind of wish is that you are making? Better hope for\nMiss Valentine, as for many others, that paradise will come as late as\npossible, and that here the dear good young lady will become a great\nand good matron, and enjoy herself as much as she can in this world.\u201d\n\n\u201cTrue enough,\u201d said Manou, \u201cfor there is the scraping of the violin;\nand just listen to that pretty gavotte! Oh! in those days when I was\nbut twenty, how I hopped about like a young goat at the first note of\nthe music. Dear me! Miss Valentine, how this good wine makes you young\nagain, and puts the gaiety into you! I do believe, if Pierrot begins\nthat flourish once more, I shall jump up and dance a minuet in your\nhonor.\u201d\n\nSo Valentine laughed, and the other old women applauded, and Manou\nfluttered about in true dancing style. Madame de Guers herself, who\nwas rarely gay, wiped away a joyous tear from her eyes, while a tender\nand proud smile spread over her countenance. There was only the very,\nvery old Genevieve, who could not laugh, because she had lost her five\nsons and grown blind in weeping for them. But, with her old wrinkled\nhand, she had groped for the pretty little one of her young friend and    220\nprotectress, pressed it between her own, and repeated in mourning\naccents:\n\n\u201cMiss Valentine, you deserve to be truly happy; you know how to give\nblessings like the good God, whose care and pleasure it is to think of\nthe poor.\u201d\n\nThanks to the pleasure of such a repast and so much time so happily\nspent, the old guests lingered around the table in the garden, and\nexceeded the limits of the morning hours. When at last they wended\ntheir way homeward, accompanied by the good sister who took care of\nthem, they met on the road several of those invited for the afternoon,\nfriends of Valentine mostly, accompanied by their mothers, in elegant\ntoilets, and coming in great pomp to offer their compliments.\n\n\u201cWhy, how is this, my dear? Have the old pensioners of Madame de Guers\ncome to congratulate you?\u201d asked Rosine Martin, one of the young\nladies, as she entered and embraced her friend.\n\n\u201cYes, Rosette, on this occasion I gave them a little _f\u00eate_. They\nbreakfasted here and drank my health; and, do you know, Pierrot played\nthe violin, and old Manou was so excited she actually danced a\nminuet.\u201d\n\n\u201cDo you hear what Valentine is saying?\u201d whispered Madame Martin to her\nfriend and confidante, Madame Fremieux. \u201cI always thought Madame de\nGuers put on the airs of a great lady, and, of course, will leave the\nsame to Valentine, as foundress of charitable institutions.\nInsupportable, is it not? And charity costs something too. It is well\nto make a parade of it, whether one has it or not; and the question\nis, whether it is prudent to put such ideas into the child\u2019s head,\nwhen she will give her at the very most two poor thousand francs?\u201d\n\n\u201cProvided that charity is a luxury like any other, and often more\nimprudent than any other,\u201d added, sententiously, Madame Fremieux,\nwhile she pulled out with her right finger the crushed ruche of her\ngreen satin dress.\n\n\u201cWhat an odd fancy you have for these old gossips, Valentine!\u201d said\nAdeline de Malers, another good friend, a pretty young woman with two\nhandsome children, whom she led gaily into the garden. \u201cThere they go,\ncharmed with your reception, and repeating your name to all the echoes\nof the town. Well, it is a good idea while you are waiting and have so\nlittle to do, and nothing much to love. See what will become of them\nwhen you will be mamma in your turn, my dear!\u201d\n\n\u201cDo you think so, Adeline? I cannot agree with you,\u201d replied\nValentine, blushing a little. \u201cMy dear good mamma Marie always found\ntime to give me all her care, her love, and her watchfulness, and yet\nI am sure she never neglected these poor old friends. It seems to me\nthat when one becomes a mother, one desires to heap up a treasure of\ngood actions, and multiply one\u2019s merits and virtues, in order that God\nmay requite the little good one does in graces and benedictions on\nthese dear little heads.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou always have a sentimental way of seeing things,\u201d replied Adeline,\nstooping and arranging with her rosy fingers the white plume that\ngraced the hat of baby; \u201cbut I doubt if Mr. Alfred Maubars will give\nthe same light to the chapter; for, my little one, husbands are not\nnonentities in the future organization of a household; their decrees\nare inevitable, and must be listened to.\u201d\n\n\u201cO Adeline! do you really think that Alfred would wish to prevent my\ndoing a little good in assisting the unfortunate?\u201d said Valentine,        221\ndeeply moved and almost indignant. \u201cHe who gave up his project of\ngoing to Paris, which we were to do immediately after our marriage? He\nwho promised to give me one-half of what it would cost to make this\ntrip to make a present to dear mamma, and furnish woollen stockings\nand aprons for the poor little parish children in the winter?\u201d\n\n\u201cO my good Valentine! where you are just now, all this may be. But\nlater, it will not, my dear. Do you see? The most part of the good\nhusbands I know--and there are none too many of them--think charity\nbegins at home. The wife, if she pleases, may give away the old boots\nand slippers, but woe to her if, in a fit of generous imprudence, she\nparts with the half of the chicken or the little glass of port that\nbelongs to my lord.\u201d\n\nThe joyous Adeline laughed with all her heart as she finished these\nwords, and for a moment Valentine smiled at the lively raillery of her\nfriend. But, M. Maubars and Alfred appearing at the same time at the\nend of the walk, she fixed on her intended a disturbed, timid, and sad\nlook, asking herself if it could be true, if it could ever be\npossible, that he who should be her natural confidant in all the sweet\nand tender inspirations of her heart, in all the Christian aspirations\nof her innocent and pious soul, should consider it a crime in her to\ncontinue to obey the great and holy law of Christ that she had seen\npractised, every day from her infancy, in her own humble home.\n\nHowever, this passing distrust of the sweet and charming betrothed was\nsoon dispelled. Alfred approached and presented her a rich and\ngraceful bouquet, and his words as he handed it were so respectful and\ntender, and his look so subdued and sincere! Then all the young people\ninvited had arrived; they were just finishing the joyous feast taken\ntogether on the grass, and already they were preparing for the dance.\nAnd now the scraping of Pierrot made way for an harmonious orchestra\nthat resounded sweetly, echoing through the shady bowers. On the\nbranches of the large lindens were suspended light and capricious-looking\ngarlands, in which little red, blue, white, gilded, and green lamps\nwere hung. They looked like stars that had come from heaven to see the\n_f\u00eate_ and smile at the other living stars, the young girls their\nsisters. M. Maubars had charged himself with this part of the\nentertainment--an offering not of charity, but one made to youth and\npleasure. So, everything passed off as brilliantly as could be wished\non such a day; and quadrille after quadrille succeeded each other on\nthe same spot where, a few hours earlier, Manou, recalling her twenty\nyears, had so valiantly executed the rhythmical and bounding steps of\nthe ancient minuet of Auvergne.\n\nAnd while the young people danced, the older ones talked in the\nparlor, or complacently looked on while their children enjoyed\nthemselves from the little fringed pavilion with velvet benches that\nhad been prepared for them in front of the greensward. Madame Martin,\nwhile admiring from afar her brown and pretty Rosette, had insensibly\napproached the father of Alfred--and of all the ladies in the town,\nshe had the least sympathy for Valentine, having for a long time\nnourished very sweet maternal hopes on the possibility of a marriage\nbetween Rosette and the young Maubars.\n\n\u201cIn truth, dear neighbor,\u201d said she, accosting with an amiable smile\nthe honorable retired merchant, \u201cone must confess you do things           222\nroyally. It certainly cannot be these ladies, with their small, very\nsmall fortune, who have by themselves given us such a _f\u00eate_ as this.\nAnd then, it is not according to their tastes. If by accident they\nshould have a little too much money, they would have less pleasure in\noffering a ball to their friends than a breakfast to their old poor.\u201d\n\n\u201cMy dear Madame Martin, when one does as one can, one does as one\nshould,\u201d replied, with a deep bow, M. Maubars, responding to her\ncompliment to himself. \u201cAs to these ideas of our excellent friend\nMadame de Guers, you see, we must not be surprised at them. She has\nalways lived a little above our so-called middle society; she is a\nwoman--how shall I say it?--well, of the old _r\u00e9gime_. In her\ndevotions, in good works, and perseverance, she has grand ideas; the\ncommandments of Christ, the love of her neighbor, the good of the\npoor. It is all beautiful, Madame Martin, and sits superbly on a woman\nlike her, grave and dignified, with such handsome white hair.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut for the little one--for Valentine--do you think, M. Maubars, that\nit will suit her as well?\u201d replied, quickly, the lady, with a mocking\nsmile.\n\n\u201cOh! why not? Everything becomes a child. All these fine devotions are\nan occupation for the widow and an amusement for the little one. It is\nmuch better to direct her by caring for the poor than by ruining the\nreputations of others and seeking false excitements. Wait till\nValentine becomes the wife of Alfred; that will change everything, you\nknow, neighbor. The dear child will only have one end, one duty, one\nlove--her husband.\u201d\n\n\u201cDo you really think so, neighbor?\u201d interrupted Madame Martin, in a\njeering tone.\n\n\u201cIt is, at least, what all women promise at the altar, madame. And\nValentine will do as she promises, I am certain. A child so docile, a\nnature so pliable, and a heart of gold. Yes, madame; I do not doubt,\nif my Alfred wishes it, she will prefer the road to the market or the\ngrocery in preference to that of the church. And as to the refuge of\nwhich you speak, Madame de Guers will take care of that, as it will be\nher only occupation. My daughter-in-law will visit it occasionally in\nher leisure moments.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt will become her well to adapt her household to his wishes; for\nevery one knows, neighbor, your son brings her a fortune far superior\nto her own.\u201d\n\n\u201cAlas! yes, you say truly; her dowry is the only weak point.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe little one will have scarcely anything, will she, M. Maubars?\u201d\nasked the lady precipitately, in her ardent, almost joyous curiosity.\n\n\u201cOh! a modest cipher, but enough. There is nothing to complain of. If\nit had been less, I confess I do not know what Alfred would have done.\nThe needs of luxury are so numerous nowadays, and it costs so much to\nlive, my dear lady!\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, we all know that,\u201d replied the prudent mother. \u201cThis is the\nreason I calculate, and economize, and stint myself every day for the\nlove I bear Rosette. According to my ideas, it is a culpable charity\nthat does not consider one\u2019s own first.\u201d\n\nAt the enunciation of this wise maxim, M. Maubars sighed profoundly.\nAt the bottom of his heart he could not help wishing, in the interest\nof Valentine and Alfred also, that Madame de Guers, his dear old\nfriend, had less tenderness and greatness of soul, less generous\ndevotion, and a little more worldly prudence and solicitude for the       223\nmaterial side of life. Nevertheless, he was careful not to express\naloud the secret preoccupations which now and then disquieted him a\nlittle; and just then Valentine, leaving the joyous group of dancers,\napproached him, sweet and charming in her innocent joy and unaffected\nsimplicity. Her steps, delicate and modest, slid silently over the\ngrass, and the golden reflection of the long garlands of light made\nher muslin dress appear whiter and more transparent, while her brown\nhair, simply raised and half-crowned with a bouquet of small roses,\nglittered browner and more lustrous as the tiny lamps threw their rays\nupon it as she passed. The smile alone of such a charming\ndaughter-in-law could dispel a host of deceptions and fears. In\nValentine\u2019s eyes beamed so much candor, love, sweetness, and virtue\nthat in admiring her one forgot the more or less respectable cipher of\nthe promised dowry.\n\nBut Valentine did not remain long with the group of talkers seated in\nthe shade; she was looking for Madame de Guers, and ran away promptly\nwhen she heard the good old lady had gone into the house.\n\n\u201cDear mamma, are you ill?\u201d said she, quite distressed when she saw her\ndear protectress in the little reception-room, carefully wrapped up in\na large shawl, pale, trembling slightly, and appearing to suffer.\n\n\u201cOh! my child, it is nothing; a slight chill--a trifling ailment only.\nWe have had a great deal to do today, and I am tired. Perhaps I took\ncold sitting so long in the shade of the lindens. Go and dance, my\nlove, for you must replace me and finish the ball. Make my excuses to\nour guests.\u201d\n\nValentine obeyed, but she left her mother sadly, with a secret\nconvulsion of the heart, that dimmed her bright eyes and her radiant\nsmile. Two hours after, when, at last, alone on the step of the dear\nold house, she had said adieu to her guests and was at liberty to run\nto the room where Madame de Guers already reposed, she saw clearly\nthat this instinctive fear was a realized fact. The sleep of her\nadopted mother was agitated and painful, her forehead was burning, her\neyes half-open, her breathing difficult and accelerated. For the first\ntime in these fifteen years of peace and happiness passed under the\nfriendly roof of the old house, the heart of the young girl sank for a\nmoment under the weight of an unknown grief--of a mortal anguish.\nWithout thinking of her ball-dress, she knelt down at the foot of the\nbed, weeping in terror, praying to God, and gently kissing, from time\nto time, the hand of the sick woman, who, in her feverish sleep,\nmuttered words without meaning. And thus she awaited the day--the new\nday that was to arise for her, and menace her with danger, grief,\nterror, and anguish.\n\n\n                                III.\n\nIt had been decided, on the day of the modest betrothal, that the\nmarriage of Alfred and Valentine should be celebrated a week after the\nNativity of Our Lady, in September, before the first fogs of autumn\nhad tarnished the verdant woods, and before the vintagers had robbed\nthe robust vines of their golden grapes on the slopes descending to\nthe valley below. But autumn passed; the woods grew yellow and the\nleaves fell; the joyous shouts of the vintagers ceased to rejoice the\nhills, and the icy winds of winter blew over the blackened slopes,\nwithout Valentine having sought her white marriage robes. Alas! it        224\nwas a robe of mourning that covered her now, poor little one! She had\nagain become an orphan; her sweet and careless happiness of the young\ndaughter, the cherished child so tenderly protected, was all gone,\ndestroyed for ever, for ever lost with the last swallows that fled\nfrom the woods with the first falling leaves. The most devoted care,\nthe greatest affection and constancy, could not preserve to her this\nnervous and tender mother, whose life here below was sad enough, and\nwhose death would have been sweet, had she not so felt for and\ntrembled for her child. Her illness, however, had been long and\ncourageously combated, and for some time there was hope of triumph\nover the disease, until one day, when Valentine was absent on a\npilgrimage to a neighboring chapel, a sudden h\u00e6morrhage set in, and\nMadame de Guers, feeling it necessary to use what strength she had\nleft, sent for several papers, and with pain wrote for her adopted\ndaughter directions which were not to be opened until a month after\nher death, when the first transports of grief were over.\n\nThe fatal moment then came, and by one of the last auroras of\nSeptember, soft, fresh, and almost veiled, Valentine found herself on\nher knees by the bedside of the dying, exchanging the last adieux with\nher tender benefactress, the devoted mother who, from her infancy, had\nso unceasingly studied her happiness. The poor child remembered no\nmore: grief had completely prostrated her, and she forgot her own\nexistence until one evening, returning to consciousness, she found\nherself clothed in deep black, and alone with Marianne, the old and\nfaithful servant, who wept low by her side and tried to console her.\nThen, M. Maubars and Alfred had come, and Valentine felt a secret\nconsolation in the midst of her sadness. It was so sweet, so toning\nand strengthening, to know one\u2019s self still loved while circumstances\nhad separated her from him upon whom she had lavished such a wealth of\naffection. It is true the consolations offered by the future\nfather-in-law and betrothed were not of the highest order of morality,\nand not very profound, perhaps, but they were truly affectionate and\nsincere--at least, Valentine thought so--so they had power to\nalleviate her grief and restore her heart\u2019s serenity.\n\n\u201cWhat would you, my child? We are all mortal,\u201d said the future papa.\n\u201cBut we can still console ourselves, and live almost happy in the love\nof the friends that remain to us.\u201d\n\nAlfred did not even say as much. But he looked at her tenderly, with a\ngentle expression of interest and pity; he quietly took the little\nwhite and thin hand that lay languidly on her black drapery, and\npressed it between his own, while he murmured:\n\n\u201cPoor dear Valentine! Poor friend, so dearly loved.\u201d And these simple\nwords, this look, this affectionate gesture from the friend of her\nchildhood, seemed to open to the heart-broken young girl a new\ntreasure of hope and consolation.\n\nThe days, however, rolled on: grief was not less profound, less\nconstant, or less bitter, but it became necessarily more contained,\nmore resigned, was borne more valiantly in secret, giving place to\naustere duties, they serious preoccupations of life. The time came,\nnaturally, when business had to be spoken of to Valentine. Until then,\nwith respect for her grief and her weakness, they had spared her every\nproposition, every discussion on the subject.\n\n\u201cI will do all that is necessary,\u201d murmured the poor child. So they\ntold her she must assist at the opening of the will, which would take     225\nplace by the notary, in presence of authorized witnesses.\n\nThe solemn assembly, therefore, convened on a cold morning of November\nin the large parlor of the house. A biting and mournful wind shook the\nwindows, and threw against them in disorder the last leaves of the\nlindens that on the day of the betrothal had balanced so joyously\ntheir green perfumed crowns above the gladdened heads of Valentine,\nher companions, and her betrothed. The last wishes of Madame de Guers\nwere expressed in a manner at once neat and concise. Her little\ncapital of 40,000 francs, placed in rentes on the state, and her\nhouse, with all its dependencies, were willed by her to her dear\npupil, Valentine Vaudrey, in default of direct inheritors from her own\nfamily or from that of her husband. The assistants knew in advance the\ntenor of the will; nevertheless, after its reading they hastened to\ncongratulate the poor heiress, now overwhelmed in tears.\n\n\u201cDear good madame knew you well, and she was not wrong,\u201d said the old\nand honest Marianne, with a convinced air.\n\n\u201cMy dear child, hereafter you are quite at home,\u201d added M. Maubars, as\nhe pressed with lively affection the little white hand, quite dampened\nwith tears.\n\nThe notary, however, made a gesture with his hand to reclaim still\nsome moments of silence. \u201cThe reading of the papers establishing the\nlast wishes of the defunct is not yet completed, gentlemen,\u201d added he,\nin a grave and measured voice. \u201cI have in my hand a letter written by\nmy respectable client fifteen days before her death, and addressed to\nher pupil, Mlle. Valentine Vaudrey. Mlle. Valentine will be kind enough\nto take notice, conjointly with myself and M. the President of the\nTribunal or M. the Justice of the Peace, if these last recommendations\nare not to be considered as bearing upon her affairs.\u201d\n\nValentine, drying her eyes, raised her pale, noble forehead, and tried\nto collect her voice, that trembled greatly.\n\n\u201cMy good Monsieur Morin, read the letter,\u201d said she, \u201cI pray you. My\ndear and best friend had no secrets to confide to me, I am sure, and\nher last wishes should be respected and known by all.\u201d\n\nThe notary bowed and broke the seal. With one look he glanced through\nthe writing, and a shade of surprise and anxiety was depicted on his\nface. Valentine, disquieted in turn, advanced gently, and extended her\nhand toward the paper.\n\n\u201cOf what is this the subject, sir?\u201d she asked timidly.\n\n\u201cBusiness; only business, my dear young lady,\u201d stammered the good M.\nMorin in an embarrassed tone.\n\n\u201cThen read it aloud, I pray you, sir,\u201d said the young girl, tranquil,\nresolved, and suddenly reassured.\n\nThe notary then slowly unfolded the paper, put on his spectacles, and\nbegan his reading in the midst of a profound silence, and perhaps\nanxiety, that reigned just then among the little assembly.\n\n\u201cMy dearly loved Valentine,\u201d said the noble woman dead, \u201cforgive me if\nI open my heart to you, and if, in giving up what has been, after you,\nthe joy and consolation of my existence, I leave you perhaps serious\nduties, real and profound anxiety. My will, as you no doubt have\nlearned, makes you the one and only heiress to the modest sum I feel\nso happy to be able to leave you. But you know, my poor dear child, I\nhave besides undertaken, and you know with what end, a work of mercy      226\nthat I wished to succeed and prosper a long time, even when my\npresence and aid would have, by the will of God, been withdrawn from\nmy poor old _prot\u00e9g\u00e9es_. This charitable foundation has been for me\nthe object of grave and disquieting cares, that till now I have never\nfound necessary to confide to you. I have just learned that the\nproprietor of the building that shelters my poor old pensioners,\nhaving some speculation in view, has decided to take possession of it\nand its dependencies himself, or will only permit me to retain it\nunder conditions too exacting to be in harmony with my slender\nresources. Many people of judgment whom I have consulted have all\ncounselled me to choose another abode and there install my pensioners.\nIf I had found myself, as formerly, alone in the world, I should not\nhave hesitated to do so; but to find a suitable house and pay several\ndebts of my poor little hospital--for times have not been good for a\nfew years past--I should have had to have laid out at least twenty\nthousand francs, almost the half of my present fortune; and could I\ndeprive you of so important a sum--you, my best loved and only\nheiress, who cannot have the same reasons for being interested in the\nexistence of the work, and therefore its continuation?\n\n\u201cThis idea has not seemed possible to me, my dear child; therefore I\nhave made no reserves, no stipulations in the interests of my poor old\ndependants, leaving it to your reason, not less than to your generous\nheart, to decide what you find best to do. Perhaps the advice, the\nsupport of the new family into which you are going to enter, of my\ngood friend M. Maubars, whom I have always known so loyal and just,\nwill be at your service, and, without impoverishing yourself, you can\naid those whom I have always wished so much to see prosper. Take\nadvice, then, of these friends, my daughter, consult your own\nfaculties, your strength, and, above all, do not precipitate anything.\nIt would have been too painful for me to have died in the thought of\nrelinquishing this work which has been so dear and consoling,\ntherefore I speak to you of it to-day, confident you will understand\nme in this as in everything else. But, in any event, I hope that\nProvidence will continue to watch over this modest foundation for his\nglory, and whatever you decide to do, my good and tender child, be\nassured you will have my approval and my blessing.\n\n\u201cFarewell, joy and consolation of my old years, sweetness of my life,\nmy dear daughter. I will not forget you in the presence of my God, if\nhe will deign to hear my prayers.\u201d\n\nThus the letter finished, and the sad and continued voice of M. Morin,\nwhich seemed to die out in murmurs, was only replied to by the long\nand bitter sobs of Valentine.\n\nAt the end, the young girl, trembling and half-tranquillized,\napproached the notary, turned toward him her mild countenance, where a\ntimid smile of gratitude and tenderness already commenced to shine as\na fugitive and light ray in the midst of her tears.\n\n\u201cMonsieur Morin, in four months I will be twenty-one,\u201d said she.\n\u201cPerhaps the proprietor of the asylum will wait till then. I shall be\nfree then, will I not, to give the twenty thousand francs necessary\nfor the purchase of the house?\u201d\n\nA profound silence, soon interrupted by a feeble murmur, greeted at\nfirst these words of the orphan. M. Maubars rose from his chair,\nshrugged his shoulders slightly, approached her, and took her hand        227\nwith a benevolent and paternal smile.\n\n\u201cPermit me, my dear child,\u201d said he. \u201cYou are not--my worthy and\nrespectable friend knew it well--quite competent to decide in matters\nof business, and you had better, I think--\u201d\n\n\u201cYou think perhaps I would do better to install the poor women in this\ndear old house,\u201d interrupted the generous girl, with her sad and sweet\nsmile. \u201cMonsieur Maubars, I love it too much, this humble abode, too\nmuch in truth, I have in it so many sweet recollections, and have\npassed here so many happy days of infancy. But my poor dear mamma\nwould perhaps be happier to know her old friends lodged and sheltered\nhere, in her own house. So I am quite ready to give it up to them, if\nyou think it right, quite suitable.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut no, no, dear good Valentine,\u201d replied the prudent papa, with a\nvery embarrassed air. \u201cMy child, you well understand, questions of\nsentiment should never interfere with those of business. Think, by\nabandoning this little property, or its equivalent sum, you give up in\nreality one-third of your dowry--a dowry, permit me to say too,\nwithout any grudge, that is already not the most considerable. Think\nthat all prudent people would endeavor to dissuade you from taking\nthis part; that you are not in reality free to accomplish a sacrifice\nso important and to the detriment of your future family.\u201d\n\nAh! poor Valentine! had she ever expected such a declaration? At first\nshe listened calmly, then smiled; then as she comprehended these\nwords, that came like a thunderbolt upon her in all their cruelty, her\npaleness disappeared and gave place to a quick and glowing redness;\nthen this in turn vanished, and she remained cold and white as a\nmarble statue. Then a ray of indignation and grief glanced from her\npure eyes, but compressing, however, the sudden beating of her heart,\npalpitating and growing colder every instant, she replied, still in an\nuncertain and timid voice, with a firm and serious accent, but\ncaressing and affectionate:\n\n\u201cFree, did you say, my good Monsieur Maubars? Do you not mistake me?\nShould I not be always free to accomplish my duty, the last wishes of\nmy mother?\u201d\n\n\u201cBut allow me ... distinguish,\u201d repeated the future father-in-law,\nalarmed but yet not discouraged. \u201cThere is an imprudent and rash\nliberty, my dear young lady, and one that is provident and wise. You\nsee yourself that your tender and generous protectress orders nothing,\nand asks nothing of you. She simply engages you to seek for the best\nadvice of those who are interested in your happiness, in your future\ndestiny, mine amongst others, my dear child. And you know well I am\ndisposed to act toward you as an old friend, as your father. I have a\ngreat influence in benevolent societies, am a member of several;\nnothing easier for me to tranquillize you on the subject of your old\nwomen than to make out a little account of the actual state of things,\nwith a few words of my own observation, and have them received without\nany delay or trouble into the hospital for incurables in this\ndepartment. In this way, my dear Valentine, you see all can be\narranged for the best. You will be relieved from all inquietude as to\nthe fate of the _prot\u00e9g\u00e9es_ of the excellent Madame de Guers; your\nlittle fortune will not be compromised; exempted from every care, free\nfrom obligations, you can consecrate your entire time to your duties,\nto the affections that await you in your new family.\u201d\n\nValentine listened to every word, her eyes fixed, her lips immovable.\nBut from time to time a deeper and more sombre shade spread over her      228\neyes, an expression more desolate fixed itself on her lips. When the\ncaressing and persuasive voice of her future father-in-law ceased to\nbe heard, she sadly bent her head, and replied:\n\n\u201cAlas! Monsieur Maubars, I see we can never again understand each\nother. I am not free, as you appear to think. What my dear and worthy\nprotectress would have done, I must do for her.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut, my child, reflect: you cannot sacrifice your little fortune.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd this fortune, to whom do I owe it, then--I, a poor, abandoned\norphan, who, without the generous protection of this inestimable\nfriend, would have been sent in years gone by where you would place\nthese poor infirm people--in a hospital. Oh! my good Monsieur Maubars,\nif my benefactress had in dying left some debt of honor that I should\npay, would you advise me to cancel the obligation--you who are so just\nand honorable?\u201d\n\n\u201cBut, dear young lady, the case is different; your excessive delicacy\nleads you astray.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is only different in one respect: it is more grave and solemn.\nThis is a sacred debt that Madame de Guers has contracted toward God\nand toward the poor, to satisfy the yearning of her soul. To-day this\ndebt is transmitted to me. I recognize it; I receive it with the rest\nof her heritage; I promise to use, if necessary, all my resources, all\nmy time, all my strength to pay it as I should.\u201d\n\nThe young girl, pale though resolute, rose in pronouncing these words,\nand extended her little hand, that had ceased to tremble, as if she\ncalled upon all the strangers assembled to witness her irrevocable\ndecision, her generous determination. The old frequenters of the\nmansion could scarcely recognize her: she seemed to have grown taller,\nripened in a moment, and was transfigured. Her former sweetness, so\ntimid and charming, did not abandon her, but there mingled in it an\nexpression of invincible courage and inflexible integrity; the weak\nand feeble child had disappeared, and in her place appeared a\nwoman--loyal, intrepid, resigned, ready for every devotion, for every\nsacrifice, even of the oldest and most cherished affections of her\nheart.\n\nM. Maubars was undeceived; it was with an expression evidently of\nextreme surprise and marked discontent that he fell back a few steps\nand bent his whitened head: \u201cI persist in hoping, mademoiselle, that\nyou will still reflect,\u201d said he, in a tone impressed with remarkable\ncoldness. \u201cOtherwise, you understand, without doubt, our projects must\nundergo same modification. Consider that such obstinacy on your part\nis a most unhappy precedent for the well-being and peace of your\nfuture household.\u201d\n\nAt this brutal menace, at this the saddest moment, perhaps, of her\nlife, Valentine became still paler and her look more sombre, but she\nneither trembled nor flinched, accepting without a murmur and in\nsilence all the bitterness of the duty she had just embraced. Only, by\nan old and tender habit of childhood, with the remains of a hope\nperhaps, her gaze, more eloquent and earnest than ever, was fixed upon\nAlfred--the friend, the betrothed, whom, for so long a time, she had\nbeen accustomed to consult in any sadness or disquietude. But Alfred,\nbefore the mute anguish of this regard, was not moved. He bore with\nhis father an air of gravity and dissatisfaction.\n\n\u201cI am sure you will reflect upon this, Valentine,\u201d he simply said.        229\n\u201cYou see my father counsels you as a true friend, having only in view\nyour happiness and the preservation of your fortune.\u201d\n\nThen Valentine turned slowly and sadly, without allowing a single tear\nto escape her, or a single sob that was then swelling in her breast.\n\n\u201cMy good Monsieur Morin, my resolution is taken,\u201d said she, her voice\nat first trembling, but becoming steadier as she spoke. \u201cAll the\nreflections that I could make would only serve to show me my duty,\nmore distinct, more exact, more sacred. In two months, if you wish, we\nwill hear what property had better be sold, and choose a suitable\nabode for our asylum.... Now, gentlemen, our council is ended, I\nbelieve.... I thank you one and all for having accorded me your advice\nand the support of your presence.\u201d\n\nAll the assistants understood that the courageous young girl must be\nleft alone to suffer, alone to weep. They rose simultaneously, bowed\nto her profoundly with admiration and respect, and went out. Alfred\nwore already a resigned look of sadness, and M. Maubars betrayed his\nirritation in his brusque movements and unsteady walk. The echoes of\ntheir steps died in the distance, and around the orphan in her\nmourning reigned only solitude and silence.\n\n\u201cIt is all over; they have said it,\u201d she murmured then, and let fall\nthe pent-up tears. \u201cBut no! it was to be.... I wished it also. It was\nmy duty--why could he not so understand it? Oh! Adeline told me the\ntruth. God is good to have enlightened me while I am still single and\nfree. Poor mamma, you could not have imagined this. So much the\nbetter, for you would have wept so bitterly.\u201d\n\nSpeaking thus, she wept and wept, hiding her face in her hands, and\nsobbing as if her heart would break. The hours flew by, night came,\nand the November rain fell on the windows, the November wind shook the\nshutters in the little parlor, formerly so tightly closed, so bright,\nand peopled with good friends, but now so solemn and deserted, and\nwhere the orphan alone must suffer and weep.\n\n\n                                IV.\n\nValentine held firm to her resolution; her soul, so loyal and pure,\nwas of those where the courage of devotion, and the love of duty\naccomplished, united to double the price of the humble virtues,\nsubmission, gentleness, and tenderness. To a very polite and\nrespectful letter from Alfred, in which the young man begged her to\nlet him know if she still persisted in her intentions, she replied in\nsimple terms, releasing him from his engagement, and telling him that\nhenceforward she should devote herself to the austere and honorable\ntask bequeathed her by her adopted mother. Notwithstanding her orders\nto the contrary, one of her best friends forced her way into the\nhouse, no doubt with good intentions. It was the lively and joyous\nAdeline de Malers, in whom, in spite of much prudence and worldly\nexperience, tenderness and benevolence were not wanting, and who would\nsincerely have desired to conquer what she considered the obstinacy\nand blindness of her poor dear friend. Adeline took care to bring\nprecious arguments with her to plead the important marriage cause: she\nled her two dear little children by the hand, with their innocent\nbabbling and sweet smiles, the source of so much delight and maternal\nfelicity. However, Valentine did not yield; her soul was steeped and\nher resolution strengthened by the secret prayers and solitude of her     230\naffliction.\n\n\u201cMy dear,\u201d said Adeline to her at the end of her arguments, \u201cif you\ngrow poor by this foolish liberality, and if, half-ruined, you are\nobliged to give up M. Alfred Maubars, you will be an old maid, I warn\nyou.\u201d\n\n\u201cI have always been a happy young girl, I can be a tranquil and\ncontented old maid. Happiness has no age,\u201d replied Valentine, with her\ncalm and tender smile.\n\n\u201cMy dear, the obliged are generally ungrateful; gratitude from the\npoor is a rare and uncertain commodity.\u201d\n\n\u201cI know it; but the satisfaction of an accomplished duty is immense,\nand the grace of God infinite. Besides, I shall be so happy to realize\nthe intentions and to continue the work of my mother, who is in\nheaven.\u201d\n\nAdeline shrugged her shoulders with a gesture of impatience. \u201cBut your\npoor old folks won\u2019t live for ever, and when the last one has\ndisappeared, your work will be finished, and you will be alone.\nBesides, in devoting yourself in the flower of your years to their\ncatarrhs and their rheumatisms, do you know, my poor child, what you\nrenounce and what you lose? Come here, Bertha, my treasure, kiss me,\nMax, you dear little angel.... Look at them now, you wicked little\nobstinate one, and tell me, as you examine them well, if all the\nhappiness, all the glory of a woman, does not consist in raising,\ncaring for, and cherishing such charming little loves.\u201d\n\nAt these words, Valentine drew the little ones to her; kissed each of\ntheir pretty white foreheads, and laid her hand gently on their blonde\nheads; for she had at heart that tender and deep love of children that\nGod has given innocent young girls, in order that one day their most\nholy duty may become their truest and sweetest happiness. And for an\ninstant perhaps the caressing look that she fixed upon them became\nmore tender, deeper, and more tearful; she stooped then a moment\ntoward the earth; then resumed her serenity, and replied peaceably and\nwith resignation:\n\n\u201cGod has given me my children--children, Adeline, who have great need\nof me, for they are suffering, poor, and feeble. Besides, my good\nfriend, when the last of these poor old people shall have gone, there\nwill remain to me the foundation, the hospital. I will open it then to\nreal children, to young and poor orphans. In this way, I too will have\nmy family--my family blessed by God.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is fanaticism, truly, and I begin to despair of your future, my\ndear friend,\u201d cried Adeline, surprised and discontented to find her\novertures so energetically repulsed. \u201cBut, then, why do you persist in\nremaining in the world, that will only have, believe me, disdain for\nyour heroism, coldness and raillery for your generous devotion? Why do\nyou not at once adopt the cornette and serge of the Sister of\nCharity?\u201d\n\n\u201cBecause, thus far, God has not so commanded me,\u201d replied the\ncourageous child, modest and resigned. \u201cMy duty lies near these old\nwomen; here my place is marked out; I have nothing else to do but\nunderstand, adore, and obey. And since I have friends among my people,\nI esteem and love them also. Why should these friends abandon me\nbecause a sacred duty claims a portion of my time and my strength, and\nI must consecrate myself to it? My destiny is no doubt changed, but my\nheart will never change, and from those I should have loved my memory\nwill never be detached; no rival affection will banish their remembrance, 231\nand for them, always, I shall be Valentine.\u201d\n\nAdeline took leave soon after, half-angry, half-impressed, declaring\nshe could understand nothing of the character of such an obstinate\ngirl, who could hide such real perversity, such inexplicable tenacity,\nunder a manner so timid and so gentle. After her departure, the pupil\nof Madame de Guers read for the last time the solemn message to\nAlfred, and finished the reply she had already commenced. Not a tear\nsullied the page whereon slowly and courageously she traced her\nfarewell. Not a start of tenderness or grief agitated the poor little\nwhite hand, that so heroically sealed the decree of separation,\nrenunciation, and forgetfulness. Only when she had finished, when\nthere was nothing more to propose or hope for, when the old Marianne,\ncarrying the letter, had disappeared in the fog, near the neighboring\nquay, she gently approached, with her eyes full of tears, the chimney\nwhere the noble and tender face of her second mother, the friend of\nher youthful years, smiled on her as if to encourage her from under\nher light glass covering. Before she pressed her trembling lips on the\nlittle portrait, she smiled sweetly through her tears.\n\n\u201cIt is all finished, mamma,\u201d murmured she. \u201cI will do as you\nwould--hereafter live only for God, and for his poor. You have told me\nmore than once that such is the lot of the elect. I believe you, dear\nmamma; I love you and I bless you.\u201d\n\nAnd as the choice of the young girl was made, she lived, as she had\nsaid, devoted and valiant, active and resigned. The notary soon came\nto the conclusion, and made it known to her, that all her resources\nwould be needed for the support of her old people. But what would she\nhave done all alone in the dear old house, much too large for her by\nherself, and so full of remembrances, rendered so bitter in silence\nand solitude? Valentine understood what she had to do, and easily\nresigned herself. The old and peaceable abode, a little enlarged,\nreceived on one story the old pensioners of the little hospital, while\nthe young protectress reserved on another her bedroom, her little\nparlor, and her library: a modest apartment filled with pious relics\nand sweet and humble souvenirs. And from this moment her life was\nentirely consecrated to her retreat, to God and the poor; from this\nmoment, too, she openly relinquished all hope of any new situation,\nany other destiny; and the circle of friends and acquaintances of the\nlittle town of C---- ceased to include her among the marriageable.\n\nIn obscure cares, in constant labor, in hidden devotions, passed the\ndays, sped the years, and robbed her of her youth. But peace remained,\nbecause she was content to establish her abode in the shadow of a\nChristian roof, and in the love of grateful hearts. It is true--though\nsome of our readers may be permitted to doubt it--that a peace the\nsweetest, the most delightful, the most constant, and the most sure\ndoes not depend on what excites and passes so quickly from earth, but\non the true, salutary, and Christian manner in which the soul, wise\nand resigned, puts itself in harmony with the exigencies of its\ndestiny and the will of its God. Valentine felt this early, and from\nthat time experienced it always. The serene tranquillity of her heart,\nhumble in its desires and contented in its destiny, was never\novershadowed by a cloud; it stood proof against any shock, even on the\nday when, having finished the reading of the Scriptures to the old        232\nGenevieve, she heard in the street, quite close to her, a great noise\nof carriages, rolling joyously towards the church, from which\nresounded the sounds of a _f\u00eate_, and, looking out the window to\nexplain the cause of the tumult, she saw in the first of the\ncarriages, ornamented with wedding favors, bouquets, and ribbons, two\nfriends of her childhood: the betrothed of that day, Alfred Maubars\nand Rosine Martin. There passed over her face a calm smile, vague and\nalmost dreaming; then a fixed and disturbed look, for at the bottom of\nthe page, as she read, were these words: \u201c_It is not good for man to\nbe alone._\u201d\n\nBut almost immediately resounded in her ears the caressing and\ninfantine voices of childhood, those of two little orphans, her\ncherished dependants, who had taken the places of Babet and Manou,\ndead full of years, and now quietly reposing in their graves. At the\njoyous call Valentine was once more herself, and, with a calm smile,\nbending her head as if she recognized her error, she said:\n\n\u201cYes, indeed, it would be sad to be alone, but those are never so who\nknow how to love. Dear mamma told me so, and well she knew what she\nsaid. Come, Marie, come Louisette, let me say the _Angelus_ with\nyou.\u201d The little ones approached, knelt down, and she laid her hands\non their heads, and kissed their browned foreheads. And before she\nmade the sign of the cross she regarded them earnestly, and with a\njoyful, softened, peaceable, and triumphant gaze, even an expression\nof indifference and forgetfulness to the carriage that was rolling\ntowards the church, and she rose at last full of gratitude and love of\nbenediction and prayer, and lifted her eyes to the clear and blue\nheaven that caressed her with its gold-lit rays.\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n                            TRUE FAITH.\n\n                 Faith is no weakly flower,\n            By sudden blight, or heat, or stormy shower\n                 To perish in an hour.\n\n                 But rich in hidden worth,\n            A plant of grace, though striking root in earth,\n                 It boasts a hardy birth.\n\n                 Still from its native skies\n            Draws energy which common shocks defies,\n                 And lives where nature dies!\n                                                     E. CASWALL.\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n                 THE PLACE VENDOME AND LA ROQUETTE.                       233\n\n             THE BEGINNING AND THE END OF THE COMMUNE.\n\n                       FROM LE CORRESPONDANT.\n\n\n                                II.\n\n\nI shall not pass abruptly from my first account, drawn up at the end\nof March, respecting the tragedy of the Place Vend\u00f4me, to that written\nat the end of May, concerning the invasion of the Madeleine, my\ndetention at the Pr\u00e9fecture de Police and at Mazas, and the\ntranscendent crimes of the Commune which I witnessed at La Roquette.\n\nWhat was the opinion of the few politicians left in Paris respecting\nthe strange events they witnessed, the accomplices and auxiliaries of\nthe Commune, and the degree of responsibility the national and\ninternational element would incur in its follies and crimes?\n\nWe must render this justice to the victorious insurgents of the\neighteenth of March--that the power of dissimulation was the weakest\nof their traits and the least of their cares. If they aimed at\nimitating Carnot, Danton, and Robespierre, they made no pretensions of\nrivalling Richelieu, Mazarin, and Talleyrand. With a moderate degree\nof coolness, curiosity, and discernment, it was easy to gain access to\ntheir larder, and ascertain the ingredients of the viands to be served\nup to us each day. They had too slight a dash of moral sense to be\npreoccupied with questions of honor and propriety. The absoluteness of\ntheir aims made them completely insensible to delicacy of means and\ndiffidence as to appearances. Therefore, the politicians who had not\nfled before the heroes of the Internationale did not waste their time.\nIf they were nearly deprived of action, they could, at least, be\nobservant, communicate the result of their impressions, and acquire a\nreasonable conviction respecting the operation of the revolutionary\nengine, with its numerous springs and mysterious propelling forces,\nnot revealed by the press of the Commune, and therefore escaping the\nattention of the vulgar.\n\nI have already protested against the weakness, blindness, or\nconnivance of the republican mayors and deputies of Paris, who,\nimmediately after the massacres of the Place Vend\u00f4me, became\nreconciled to the agents of the central committee, disbanded and\ndispersed the battalions of the national guard still faithful to the\ncause of order, and gave Paris up to an association of adventurers and\noutlaws, some of unknown origin, others notorious for their conflicts\nwith the laws of their own countries, and all for their savage hatred\nof every social institution.\n\nInstead of subsequently acknowledging their weakness or error, the\nmajority of the radical republicans continued their campaign against\nthe national assembly with a persistence and hypocrisy that cannot be\nsufficiently stigmatized. To preserve the republic, they emboldened\nand strengthened the Commune, thus sacrificing to their political idol\nthe peace, prosperity, honor, and existence of their country. The         234\nCommune did not conceal its affection for such auxiliaries, but its\ncaresses were to some of a more serious and compromising nature.\n\nFormerly, the most ultra never dreamed of giving up their patriotism.\nIt was reserved for the members of the Commune to divest themselves of\nthis old prejudice of all nations. They vehemently demanded, during\nthe siege of Paris by the Prussians, the most extreme measures--a\ngeneral sortie, \u201c_des battailles torrentielles_,\u201d and fighting to the\nlast. When conspiracy made them masters of Paris, their violence and\nferocity against the Prussians changed to obsequious devotedness and\ncivilities of the most amicable nature. Their dishonest protestations\nwere displayed in the columns of the official journal of the Commune\nwith a coolness that makes one blush. The delegate of foreign affairs\ntreated the Prussians, who had just lacerated and humiliated France,\nand bombarded its capital, as if they were our most faithful allies,\nand were sacrificing themselves heroically for our safety.\n\nThe generals of the Commune, who had been imprisoned some weeks before\nby the government of the national assembly as Prussian spies and\nagents, made no change in their patriotic course. The delegate of war,\nGeneral Trochu, recalled at the tribune, \u201cis making a series of\nrigorous arrests, the object of which is to assure to the enemy the\nfreedom the pending negotiations confer on them.\u201d\n\nThe politicians and chemists of the Commune proved they had been in a\ngood school by borrowing two ideas of M. de Bismarck and M. de Moltke,\nthe very names of which now inspire horror--the system of hostages and\nthe use of petroleum. To ensure the entire payment of the exorbitant\nrequisitions on the invaded provinces, and somewhat avenge the limited\nenthusiasm manifested by the humiliated and suffering inhabitants, the\nPrussians retained the most notable individuals as hostages, and sent\nthem to the prisons of Germany. Citizens Ferr\u00e9 and Raoul Rigault found\nthis system too ingenious and convenient not to be adopted. They took\nas hostages, and imprisoned them at Mazas and La Roquette, the priests\nand laymen who, according to the opinion of these servile imitators,\nhad been more devoted to social and national interests than to those\nof anarchy and demagogism.\n\nFourteen months ago, a peculiar dictionary was discovered in the\nheadquarters of the Internationale, in which was a list of such words\nas nitro-glycerine and picrate of potassium, and a recipe for\nsulphurate of carbon, and the chlorate and prussiate of potassium. At\nthe end of the recipes were these words, significant of the uses to\nwhich they were to be applied: \u201cTo throw from the windows: to be\nthrown into the gutters.\u201d If the most formidable of recipes is not to\nbe found there, it is because the citizens of the Commune had not yet\nlearned in the school of Prussian engineers the art of destroying\nhouses and monuments by means of petroleum.\n\nIn continuing the account of the horrible deeds of the Commune, I find\nconsolation as a Frenchman in the thought that the murderers and\nincendiaries of Paris denied not only their God, but their country,\nand that they were members not only of a criminal, but a foreign\nleague.\n\n\n                                 I.\n\n                   THE CLOSING OF THE MADELEINE.\n\nIn following with serious attention the various evolutions of the\nCommune, we are struck by the contrast between its beginning and its      235\nend. Its first essays were rather grotesque than frightful. The\nstatesmen most preoccupied about the quicksands on which it threatened\nto cast society and the nation did not at first foresee the crimes\nthat are without a name, which made its end one of the most sinister\npages in human history. The reason is easily understood. Once masters\nof Paris, the charlatans and rogues that composed the Commune hoped to\nbecome the rulers of France. They saw themselves already at the head\nof a social revolution, and, encouraged by their unexpected success in\nthe seductive cause of pretended renovation, they set to work in\nearnest. Hence the deluge of strange and incoherent decrees that\nbecame a dead letter, and only served to amuse the careless and\nfrivolous Parisian.\n\nBut when the generals of the Commune made an audacious effort to seize\nVersailles and open communication with their numerous agents in the\npopulous centres of the provinces, they were overwhelmed by the army\nthey thought disorganized or won over to their cause, and all their\nplans were overthrown. The attempts to excite an insurrection in the\nlarge cities failed. The Commune could expect nothing more from the\nintervention of the departments: its rule was restricted to Paris, and\nthe days of its power were numbered. Then projects of hatred and\nvengeance succeeded those of social renovation. The monkeys of the\nH\u00f4tel de Ville gave place to tigers. The prophets and apostles of the\nCommune lost their _sang-froid_. The foul Felix Pyat exhausted himself\nin atrocious invectives, and the fiendish Delescluze evidently\npreferred to blow up Paris rather than give it up to France.\n\nWhile the emissaries of the radical republicans knowingly deceived\nFrance and all Europe respecting the condition of Paris, and were\ncirculating their deceitful and imprudent sophisms, dictated by their\nadmiration for the Commune and their hatred of the national assembly,\nwhat was the language of foreign journals that cared for nothing about\nthese internal struggles but exactness and impartiality? The\ncorrespondent of the _Times_ was not satisfied with comparing\nParis to an infernal caldron, in which seethed all human passions, but\nthus depicted the armed forces of the Commune: \u201cBesides the old and\nthe young, excited by the phraseology of the first revolution, still\nnovel to them, all the villains in Paris are under arms. I have never\nseen, even in London, so sinister a collection of faces. These men\nalways seem more or less intoxicated. They have not, perhaps, ceased\nto be so since the eighteenth of March.\u201d Such is the spectacle in the\nstreets and public places: that of the forts and ramparts is of a\nstill more expressive character: \u201cMan is there only a ferocious\nanimal, everywhere scenting blood. We hardly recognize him, and no\nlonger comprehend him.\u201d\n\nThe parish service I directed at the Madeleine after the arrest of M.\nDeguerry encountered but few difficulties. The Commune only made some\ninsignificant requisitions in a civil manner. The qualification of\n\u201ccitizen director of the church of the Madeleine,\u201d given me in the\nmost solemn manner, enlivened me for an instant in the midst of my\ncares and griefs.\n\nThe success of the Versailles army, in giving joy to the respectable\npeople still remaining at Paris, was a source of danger to them. The\nCommune concentrated, or rather gave up, its civil and military power\ninto the hands of the committee of public safety and the central          236\ncommittee. On Wednesday, the seventeenth of May, in going to\nadminister the last sacraments to the daughter of a concierge in the\nRue de la Victoire, I found the ninth arrondissement hemmed in by the\ninsurgents, who were making frequent arrests. Thanks to one of the\nmost ultra journals of the Commune that I pretended to be reading very\nattentively, I passed through their inquisitorial ranks unimpeded.\n\nOn the eighteenth, which was Ascension day, the church of St.\nAugustine was closed, and one of the vicars and the organist were\nimprisoned. All the offices of the day were celebrated at the\nMadeleine, attended by a numerous and very devout congregation; but,\nso far from yielding to any illusion about the fate that awaited me, I\nbegged Dr. B. de L----, a parishioner of the Madeleine, to enable me\nafter vespers to see M. Jacquemin, one of the physicians of the prison\nof Mazas. There was every reason to believe I should soon require his\nkind services. I was already acquainted with M. de Beauvais, the\nsecond physician at Mazas, whose courageous devotedness I was\nsubsequently to experience, and who had already been so thoughtful as\nto give me news of the cur\u00e9 of the Madeleine and of the Archbishop of\nParis. After my interview with Dr. Jacquemin, I felt some\nembarrassment about returning to my residence. The Rue de la\nVille-l\u2019Ev\u00eaque was filled with an armed band of the national guards.\nThe house of the Sisters of Charity, opposite the Presbyt\u00e8re, was\nguarded by two sentinels. The sisters had been expelled, and the\ngirls\u2019 school confided to some _citoyennes_, who, according to the\nunruly tongues of the quarter, had been replaced at the prison of St.\nLazare by the Sisters of Picpus, who were accused of a series of\ncrimes, each one more extraordinary than the rest. I bought, as on the\nprevious day, one of the ultra journals of the Commune, and, armed\nwith this new kind of a safe-conduct, I took a roundabout way to the\nRue la Ville-l\u2019Ev\u00eaque, in order to avoid the national guards as much\nas possible. Once their protection would have been eagerly sought\nagainst a robber or assassin, but since the reign of the Commune\nrespectable people feared and fled from them as the worst of\nevil-doers. And the new military organization will doubtless have to\nundergo a radical transformation, for it will be difficult for it to\nrise above the moral discredit into which it has fallen.\n\nSome moments after, a Polish priest, who had given himself up with\nindefatigable zeal to the service of the ambulances, notified me that\nan order had been signed to close the churches and arrest the priests\nstill in Paris. I went to see one of my devoted _confr\u00e8res_, M.\nde Bretagne, and consult with him about the means of preserving the\nholy eucharist from profanation. The insurgents had already thrown\naway or carried off in their cartridge-boxes the sacred elements in\nsome of the churches. At this very time the church of St.\nPhilippe-du-Roule was entered by the insurgents, and for want of\npriests they arrested two employees who were guarding the church. The\nMadeleine of the eighth arrondissement was the only church that was\nstill open.\n\nAlthough, after the arrest of M. Deguerry, a part of the valuables of\nthe church had been carried to a safe place, I employed the first\nmoments of Friday, the nineteenth, in confiding the remainder to some\nwomen of the working-classes. I only left in the church a few valuable    237\nobjects and several hundred francs. The agents of the Commune had a\nsingular longing for money, and when they could not obtain some\nbank-bills or gold in their expeditions, the places invaded or the\npersons arrested had to suffer for such a financial disappointment.\n\nAt half-past three, the sacristy door burst open. A tall young man,\nclad _\u00e0 la_ Robespierre, with a broad red mantle that half-covered him,\nadvanced at the head of a knot of confederates armed with revolvers,\nand exclaimed in a loud tone: \u201cThe church of the Madeleine is closed\nby order of the committee of public safety.\u201d I was at that moment\nsupplying the unfortunate people whom the _r\u00e9gime_ of the Commune had\ndeprived of work and bread. I had on my choir robes in addition to my\nordinary ecclesiastical costume. The inmates of the sacristy were\ngreatly excited. Some who were waiting to go to confession fled. Only\none, the wife of an old prefect of the empire, bravely remained to\nwitness this singular spectacle. I approached the judicial agent, and\nasked to examine the official decree and see if it was authentic.\nWhile I was reading it, I saw in his hands two other decrees of the\ncommittee of public safety, one prescribing my arrest and the other\nthe suppression of some newspapers that had not conformed to the\nopinions of the Commune. I thought the signature was that of Ranvier,\nthe mayor of Belleville, one of the most influential members of the\nCommune and of the committee of public safety. He was an old bankrupt\nwine-dealer, who had several times been amenable to the laws, and,\nlike all social outlaws, swore an implacable hatred to society. He\nacquired great popularity in the clubs, after the fourth of September,\nby advocating social war, as in the last months of the empire he had\nadvocated the claims of absolute liberty! It was by virtue of this\nabsolute liberty that he had just signed the three decrees, that aimed\nso many brutal blows at religious, civil, and political liberty.\n\n\u201cAre you the citizen director of the church of the Madeleine?\u201d added\nthe delegate, somewhat irritated at the inspection of the warrant,\nwhich seemed to him rather impertinent.\n\nI would willingly have replied like Sganarelle, \u201cYes and no, according\nto your wish,\u201d but unfortunately, instead of living any longer in the\nParis of Moli\u00e8re, we lived in a city of folly and crime.\n\n\u201cYou know perfectly well that the cur\u00e9 of the Madeleine was arrested\nsix weeks ago. It is I who am for the present in his place.\u201d I had not\nfinished these words before he took the second warrant, and exclaimed\nin thundering tones: \u201cBy virtue of a decree of the committee of public\nsafety, the citizen director of the church of the Madeleine is\narrested.\u201d The murderers who escorted him, and who belonged to the\nbattalion of the _Vengeurs de Flourens_, rushed upon me, holding\ntheir revolvers against my throat and chest, and bestowing on me a\nseries of names, the most decent of which were \u201c_bandit_, _canaille_,\n_crapule_, _assassin_!\u201d One of them, whose stupid ferocity can only\nbe attributed to drunkenness, cried, while endeavoring to adjust his\narms: \u201cIt is you, vile rabble, who cause the patriots of Paris to be\nassassinated by the wretches at Versailles: the priests are the\nmurderers of the people: they should all be shot.\u201d I had received\nthese miserable men with politeness and a sentiment of resignation.\nTheir low insults made me flush with indignation and decide to\nconfront them.\n\n\u201cI am not accustomed to hear such language,\u201d said I to their leader.\n\u201cIf you continue to treat me in this way, I shall seat myself without     238\nanother word, and force alone shall tear me from this sanctuary.\u201d\n\nHe made a sign to his followers to moderate their civic indignation,\nbut without being heeded. I now sought to lead them into a discussion,\nhoping to appease them and preserve the church from devastation by\nmaking them incapable of justifying their acts and outrages. For two\nhours--hours that seemed ages--I was obliged, under the greatest\nperil, to defend myself as a man and a priest against these\nemissaries, who were as ridiculous as they were odious. I will relate\nthe principal points in this interchange of observations.\n\nI first asked why I was arrested. At this question the delegate of the\ncommittee of public safety replied by a torrent of accusations and\nmaledictions against the \u201cmiserable quarter of the Madeleine, the most\nhostile in Paris to the _r\u00e9gime_ of the Commune.\u201d He was not wholly\nwrong in this, for at the last elections the parish of the Madeleine,\nwhich comprises about forty thousand inhabitants, did not give more\nthan a hundred votes to the candidates of the Commune. In the eighth\narrondissement, where the church is, of about nineteen thousand votes,\nonly five hundred voted for the Communist members. He added: \u201cYou must\ntherefore expiate your conspirations in favor of the Versailles\nassassins.\u201d Here the delegate was no longer right. But it was evident\nthat I was arrested because I was the \u201ccitizen director of the\nMadeleine,\u201d and they would make me expiate the sympathy and\nconcurrence that the parishioners of the Madeleine had the\nunpardonable offence to refuse the Commune. To gain more time and thus\ncalm their fury, I spoke of political affairs. My observations visibly\ndisconcerted my interlocutors. The epithets, _canaille_, _crapule_,\nand assassin, became more and more rare, and their revolvers, at first\nso actively and impertinently exercised, were returned by degrees to\ntheir cases.\n\nAnother incident that might have been fatal to me served still more to\ndisconcert them. During the last half of the reign of the Commune, the\naffair of the bodies found at St. Laurent, Notre Dame des Victoires,\nand Notre Dame de Lorette had an unfortunate effect. Disregarding the\nreports of the physicians and what was clearly evident, the\nrevolutionist papers, the _Journal Officiel_, and the clubs exclaimed\nat the scandal. The most abominable crimes were imputed to the clergy,\nagainst whom a diabolical persecution was excited by extravagant\naccounts and vile pictures. In vain were these extravagances met by\ndecisive reasons: the reasons themselves became new subjects of\ncrimination and invectives which gave me great concern.\n\nThe vaults of the Madeleine were at this epoch filled with bodies.\nDuring the siege of Paris by the Prussians, the bodies of several\ngenerals and foreigners of distinction had been deposited there till\nthey could be carried to their distant family tombs. I had for several\ndays dwelt on the explanation I could give respecting these bodies so\nas to silence these furious madmen, but had found none. The time had\ncome when I needed it.\n\n\u201cIt is in this miserable parish of the Madeleine,\u201d exclaimed the\ndelegate of the Commune with a smile of contempt and hatred, \u201cthat we\nshall discover the infamy of the priests. I will bet,\u201d continued he,\nturning toward his agent, \u201cthat we shall find here more horrible\nthings than at St. Laurent and Notre Dame des Victoires. Citizens,        239\nlet us go down into the vaults!\u201d\n\nThe ray of light that I had sought for in vain the three previous\nweeks all at once beamed into my mind, I found the reason I needed.\nThough in the power of the dangerous agents of the committee of public\nsafety, I blessed God for his protection.\n\n\u201cI have two observations to make to you,\u201d I replied. \u201cThe first is\nthat you will find in the vaults of the Madeleine many more corpses\nthan in the other churches....\u201d\n\nI can still see the delegate laughing with fiendish satisfaction at\nthese words till he nearly fell backwards. \u201cI told you, citizens, that\nthere was more infamy in this church than anywhere else!\u201d\n\n\u201cThe second observation, sir, concerns you personally, and from a\nmotive of charity I think it a duty to draw your attention to it. I\nwarn you that several of these bodies belong to illustrious families\nin Spain, Italy, England, and America, and, if you are rash enough to\ndisturb them, it is with these foreign powers, and not with me, you\nwill have to deal.\u201d\n\nIn his place I should have endeavored to dissimulate my embarrassment\nby doubting this assertion, and requesting to be assured of the fact.\nBut he was not constrained in the least. He waved his hand with a\ntriumphant air, and, as if it were I who proposed to violate the\ntombs, he exclaimed in the most sonorous manner: \u201cYes, yes, the\nCommune will protect these bodies; they shall be protected!\u201d\n\nAfter this incredible instance of foolishness and incoherency, we may\nstop. I will only beg pardon for mentioning one of the moral\nreflections made by one of the emissaries of the Commune at the\ncommencement of this scene. I had occasion to pronounce the name of\nGod. \u201cStop,\u201d said he to me, flourishing his revolver, \u201cif God existed\nand should descend here, it is he I would shoot first!\u201d\n\nIt was half-past five. My situation became less critical. These men,\nat first so ferocious, now treated me with politeness. The most brutal\nseemed almost ashamed of having insulted me. I was able to request the\nnational guards appointed to watch over the Madeleine not to allow\nanything to be removed or desecrated. I also begged that the faithful\nemployees of the church might have the liberty of returning home. The\ndelegate charged to arrest me could no longer deceive himself. He\nbecame almost affable. I will not mention his name. He sufficiently\ndishonored the family from which he sprang by his deeds. A week after,\nby a coincidence worthy of note, he directed from the Madeleine the\nfight on the Boulevard Malesherbes. More strongly resisted than he had\nexpected, he found himself with two of his agents hedged in by the\nVersailles troops, and sought shelter in the cellar of the church. An\nofficer of the line shot him with a revolver, fracturing his skull.\nThis prodigal child had become hardened in sin: unworthy of pardon and\nmercy, he had become incapable of repentance.\n\nI arrived at the pr\u00e9fecture de police at a quarter past six,\naccompanied by a staff-officer of the Commune. I was as yet but little\npreoccupied about my situation, but when told that I was to appear at\nonce before citizen Ferr\u00e9, the _pr\u00e9fet de police_, who was\nregarded by men of penetration as another Robespierre, I felt that my\ncase was extremely grave, and that, having but little to hope from\nman, I should confide myself to the protection of God.\n\n\n                                 II.                                      240\n\n                THE PREFECTURE DE POLICE AND MAZAS.\n\nIt is no easy matter to describe the singular scene at the pr\u00e9fecture\nde police, usually so quiet, so disciplined and solemn. This\nestablishment had become noisier and more picturesque than a\nfair-ground. By way of contrast with the usual proceedings, robbers\nand other criminals now issued decrees of arrest and imprisonment, and\nthey who were arrested and imprisoned were lovers of order and their\nduty.\n\nThe entrance was guarded by a crowd of national guardsmen, who had\nstopped drinking and smoking to laugh at the unfortunate victims of\nthe hatred of the committee of public safety, who were arriving in\nlarge numbers. I had seen at the Madeleine the delegate who ordered my\narrest give the staff-officer appointed to conduct me a five-franc\npiece to pay for the carriage. This honest man found it more suitable\nto leave this expense to his prisoner, and keep the five francs\nhimself. It was a little contribution to the expenses of the war that\nI cheerfully paid. Like the misanthrope of Moli\u00e8re, I was almost glad\nto see the masters of Paris throw off the mask and add niggardliness\nto all kinds of violence. It was pleasant to be able to testify that a\nstaff-officer of the Commune, the friend of Ferr\u00e9 and Raoul Rigault,\nthe confidential agent of the committee of public safety, and one of\nthe great dignitaries of the prefecture de police, committed a theft\nat my expense, and with an unceremoniousness that could not be found\namong the robbers and pickpockets of the worst quarters of the\nbarriers.\n\nAfter waiting three hours, I was summoned before citizen Ferr\u00e9, the\nmember of the Commune delegated to the ex-pr\u00e9fecture de police, which\nsignifies in common language the _pr\u00e9fet de police_. He appeared to be\nfrom twenty-six to thirty years of age. He was no longer the ten-years\nstudent and the burlesque writer for the small journals of the Latin\nquarter, who gave himself up to pleasure on those rare festivals when\nthe proceeds of his pen allowed him to revel at the public balls at\nthe crossway of the Observatory. He had exchanged his worn clothes for\na more elegant suit, his old pointed hat for a cap with gold spangles.\nCarelessly seated in a superb arm-chair in the luxurious office where\nDelessert, Maupas, and Pietri had labored, he gave orders to his\nsubordinates with the solemnity and self-sufficiency of a pasha. I am\nmistaken; the great pashas I saw while travelling in the East were\nonly inferior rulers beside him; he realized with admirable precision\nthe fantastic idea I had formed of a Chinese mandarin of the first\nclass.\n\nAfter making a salutation which he doubtless did not find\nproportionate to his dignity, I requested permission in respectful and\nsufficiently humble tones to appear as promptly as possible before the\n_juge d\u2019instruction_. He interrupted me in a dry and haughty tone: \u201cBe\nsilent, citizen. You are here to listen to me, and not to talk!\u201d\n\nI had never met with so humiliating a reception. It is true I had\nnever been in the presence of insolence personified. I immediately\ndrew from my pocket a number of the _Journal Officiel de la Commune_\nwhich I had been carefully keeping for three days, and which contained\na recent decree by virtue of which all individuals arrested should\nappear before the _juge d\u2019instruction_ within twenty-four hours or be     241\nrestored to liberty.\n\n\u201cI wished at first, sir,\u201d I firmly replied, \u201cto solicit a favor, now I\nclaim a right. By virtue of the decree of the Commune which I am going\nto read to you, I demand the right to appear within twenty-four hours\nbefore a _juge d\u2019instruction_.\u201d\n\nOur arrogant mandarin shrugged his shoulders, and smiled, as if to\nsay, \u201cHere is a simpleton who still believes in the decrees of the\nCommune!\u201d\n\n\u201cCaptain, conduct this citizen to prison,\u201d was his only reply. On\nWednesday, the twenty-fourth of May, at half-past seven in the\nevening, I noticed through the bars of my cell my mandarin transformed\ninto a bloodthirsty tiger, crossing the court of La Roquette and\ngiving orders for the immediate execution of the Archbishop of Paris,\nM. Bonjean, M. Deguerry, and their three companions.\n\nMy situation assumed a more gloomy aspect than I had anticipated. I\nhad been arrested as one of the last hostages, and was at the mercy of\na band of ruffians who were exasperated to madness by the approach of\nthe Versailles army. I did not lose courage in my misfortunes.\nConvinced by the example of the staff-officer who had robbed me of\nfive francs that I still had one means of alleviating my lot, I\nhenceforth placed all my confidence in the infinite mercy of God,\nwithout forgetting a generous distribution of pieces of a hundred\nsous. I immediately slipped two into the hands of my jailer, who was\nprofuse in his bows, and gave me an exceptional testimony of his\ngratitude, in his way, by shutting me up in the cell that had been\noccupied by M. Deguerry. I told him that, lacking everything, I must\nabsolutely write my friends that evening, and begged him not to send\nmy letter through the office. As he objected, I told him I needed\nmoney, and, if I were not at once supplied, I should not be able to\nacknowledge, as was my practice, the kind services of the good\nofficials with whom I had to deal. At this, what had been impossible\nwas instantly effected.\n\nI wrote to the Presbyt\u00e8re of the Madeleine for money and other\neffects; then I added what I considered very important, and wished not\nto be seen at the office, that they must not speak to any one of my\narrest, or write me a single line, or, especially, take any steps for\nmy release. To pass unperceived and confounded in the crowd of\nprisoners was my only chance of safety. I remained faithful to this\nprinciple to the end.\n\nHaving had no food since ten o\u2019clock in the morning, I asked for\nsomething to eat. They told me it was too late, that the dinner was at\nfive o\u2019clock, and the regulations allowed nothing afterwards. The same\naccident occurred several times, and owing to other obstacles I was no\nmore fortunate about sleeping. I will say, for the edification of\nthose who wish to get an idea of the _r\u00e9gime_ of the Commune, that at\nthe end of ten days\u2019 imprisonment I returned home, after having dined\ntwice and slept two hours and a half. My friends declared that I\nlooked ten years older; but, knowing the truly French elasticity of my\ntemperament, I consoled them with the assurance that ten days of\nfreedom would make me ten years younger, which has proved true.\n\nDuring the night, prisoners were continually being brought in. Among\nthem were some members of the national guards of the Commune, who,\nthrough insubordination and drunkenness, became my companions in\ncaptivity. They kept up a terrific noise. Some cried as loud as they      242\ncould bawl: \u201cVive la R\u00e9publique! Vive la Commune!\u201d Others thought they\nwere at a club, and, all speaking at once, advocated in discordant\ntones the abolition of capital, the death of the priests, the freedom\nof woman, and other benefits of social revolution.\n\nJust after midnight, a confederate officer was brought into one of the\nneighboring cells who was indebted to too copious libations for the\neloquence of a Demosthenes and the strength of a Hercules. This\npatriot thought himself confronting the Prussians, among whom he made\nfrightful carnage. \u201cNow it is your turn, you bully of a Bismarck! Now\nyou, William, you rascal! You shall see what a patriot and a\nrepublican can do!\u201d Then he would throw himself on to the door of his\ncell, and pound and kick it. This continued till daybreak. The heroic\navenger of the national honor made me forget for a time the singular\ninsolence of Ferr\u00e9, and more than once I laughed at his manly\neloquence and glorious feats in battle. I took pleasure in retaining,\nin the midst of the extravagances and crimes of the Commune, a bitter\nremembrance of the crushing and humiliating proceedings of Prussia.\n\nOn Saturday morning I wrote to M. Moir\u00e9, the _juge d\u2019instruction_,\nasking to be heard in the course of the day. At half-past three I\nreceived a reply. It was an order to Mazas. No illusion was longer\npossible. The advocates of legal forms must expect to be shot without\nform--a respect for which would doubtless have been a poor consolation\nin falling under the bullets of assassins, but it is well to observe\nthat such judicial modes are unknown among the cannibals themselves.\nAmong the prisoners who accompanied me were, with other ecclesiastics,\nthe Abb\u00e9 Laurent Amodru, the vicar of Notre Dame des Victoires, and\nthe Abb\u00e9 de Marsy, the vicar of St. Vincent de Paul. Both came to me\nand manifested a sympathy that began to cheer the gloomy perspective\nof Mazas. M. de Marsy was full of animation, and his cordial\ndevotedness was of more benefit to us in a moral than a material\nsense. And I became inseparably attached to M. l\u2019Abb\u00e9 Amodru. He was\nmy neighbor again at La Roquette, and his encouraging example, even\nmore than his precious religious ministrations, aided me in enduring\nthe greatest trials in that fearful abode. I wish to give him a public\ntestimony of my profound gratitude. We were transported in one of\nthose cellular vehicles, the very sight of which inspires horror and\ndisgust, and arrived at Mazas at half-past five. They kept us shut up\nnearly two hours in a kind of grated cage, which made me wish for one\nof those which contain the wild beasts in the Jardin des Plantes.\n\nThough separated from one another, we were able nevertheless to\nexchange some words. \u201cIt is an indignity,\u201d exclaimed a young national\nguardsman, who had refused to serve the Commune, \u201cto shut us up in\nthis way as if we were robbers!\u201d\n\n\u201cCheer up,\u201d replied an old man with a cultivated and sympathetic\nvoice. \u201cIn these days, honest men are placed here, and robbers are\nleft without.\u201d\n\nExhausted with fatigue, I could neither sit down, lie down, eat, nor\nread. I can understand these rigorous precautions for the disciples of\nCartouche, Troppman, and Dumolard. Would there have been any great\nsocial danger in shutting us up in an apartment where there was a\nbench? I learned afterward that the Archbishop of Paris had the same\npreliminary ceremony to undergo, which almost reduced him to agony.       243\nWhen my turn came to go to the register\u2019s office, I was very much\nexasperated, and not at all disposed to conceal my dissatisfaction;\nand I had begun to observe that mildness and patience only served to\naggravate our troubles with the emissaries of the Commune, while a\ntimely and vigorous protestation obtained some alleviation. The\nregistrar, in taking a long and minute description, demanded my\nname--\u201cThe Abb\u00e9 Lamazou, Vicar of the Madeleine.\u201d I never failed to\narticulate this title distinctly. It edified some, irritated others,\nand proved to all that by my profession I did not necessarily belong\nto the family of those accused of robbery, brigandage, or\nassassination, for whom the prison of Mazas was intended.\n\nHaving entered the establishment, they pointed toward a door. I\nsupposed it was my cell. By no means: it was a bath-room. As vagabonds\nand criminals are not always models of neatness and health, I\nunderstood the necessity of making them take a bath at their entrance\ninto prison. I also comprehend that recourse may be had to this easy\nmeans of ascertaining if a dangerous criminal has not concealed in his\nclothes some weapon or some document that may compromise him. When the\nwarden ordered me to undress in order to take a bath, I was for a\nmoment confounded. The sight of a dirty bath-room and a smoking rag,\nthat perhaps had just wiped the body of some foul vagrant of the\nbarriers, quite restored my energy.\n\n\u201cI will not take a bath.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe regulations require it: you must submit to them.\u201d\n\n\u201cI tell you once for all, that I will not take a bath, if you shoot\nme.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, in your place I would act the same,\u201d replied the warden in a\nmost friendly tone. \u201cI am distressed at all that has been going on\nhere for some time. Only, as the director of the prison is a furious\npartisan of the Commune, if he were aware of your resistance, he might\nsubject you to rigorous treatment. I will close the door for a few\nminutes, and you will be reported as having taken your bath.\u201d\n\nI thanked him warmly. Some wardens of the former administration still\nremained at Mazas and La Roquette. They not only manifested a cordial\nrespect for us, but rendered us the most valuable assistance. Of all\nthe marks of sympathy that I received after my deliverance, none\naffected me more than the letters and calls of my old wardens of Mazas\nand La Roquette. Among those who came to see me was the warden of the\nbath-rooms at Mazas. There were then, among the hordes of the Commune,\nwho were a disgrace to the human race, some men who honored it by\ntheir conscientiousness, their courage, and their moral dignity.\n\nAlthough the day was nearly at an end, I was not at the end of my\ntribulations. The cell in which I was shut up seemed most\nobjectionable. It was exceedingly cold, and, as I had been laid up\nwith an attack of bronchitis, it might bring on inflammation of the\nlungs. It was on the ground, and immediately facing the interior\nentrance to the main part of the prison. I knew the populace might\ntake Mazas by force and give a second edition of the days in\nSeptember. I should then be one of the first at hand. Finally, and\nthis was decisive, I had fallen into the hands of a Communist warden,\nwho, seeing me exhausted, having had no nourishment since morning,\ngave no other proof of his solicitude than examining my pockets, my       244\nbooks, and even my portemonnaie.\n\nThe next morning I asked to see one of the physicians of the prison.\nIt was Dr. de Beauvais\u2019s day, whom I had already seen at the\nMadeleine. As he was under the surveillance of the agents of the\nCommune, I made no sign of recognition. I made known to him the\nintolerable treatment I had received, the bad state of my health, and\nthe physical impossibility of remaining in my cell. I added that I\nsimply wished to inform him of my situation, but by no means to claim\na favor.\n\nHe replied that, in consequence of my state of health, I had a right\nto change my cell. He ordered one to be given me in the first story.\n\nThe energy of my language had such an effect on the infirmarian and\npharmaceutist of the prison that they hastened to manifest their\nsympathy. My new warden was perfect. In spite of the severity of the\ndiscipline, I could, thanks to them, obtain news of M. Deguerry, Mgr.\nDarboy, Mgr. Surat, and of M. Bayle, the vicar-general of Paris, who\nwas in my neighborhood. Hitherto I could only give an idea of their\ntrials and those of the other hostages of the Commune by relating my\nown, only most of them had been incarcerated seven weeks, and I only\nfour days.\n\nSunday was, relatively speaking, a comfortable day. I guessed, on\nMonday morning, from the general sound of the tocsin, that the\nVersailles troops must have entered Paris. The pharmacist and wardens\nconfirmed the supposition. \u201cCourage,\u201d they said to me, \u201cperhaps in a\nfew hours, or to-morrow at the latest, you will be free.\u201d\n\nI offered up my thanksgivings to God, and hailed the first dawn of\nlight on Tuesday as the happy day of my deliverance, and the\ndeliverance of all my companions in captivity.\n\n\n                                III.\n\n\n     LA ROQUETTE--MASSACRE OF THE HOSTAGES--FOUR DAYS OF AGONY.\n\nA brilliant sun lighted the prison of Mazas. We were, then, about to\nreturn to Paris, from which we seemed a thousand leagues distant,\nthough within its limits; we were to behold once more those who were\ndear to us, and endeavor, according to the measure of our strength, to\nheal the moral and material wounds made by the most shameful and\nodious of _r\u00e9gimes_ that ever burdened a civilized people. I forgot\nall my fatigues, all my sadness, all my anguish, in the reawakening of\nhope and life. I prayed with the enthusiasm of an exile who had\ndespaired of ever seeing his country again, and to which he was, by an\nunexpected event, about to be restored.\n\nAt a quarter before ten, the door of my cell was opened. A warden I\ndid not know ordered me to collect my effects and go down. My\ndeliverance, then, was nearer at hand than I had hoped. All my things\nwere packed in a few minutes. I took all the money out of my purse\nexcept enough to pay for a carriage and give the driver a generous\n_pourboire_. I was too happy not to wish to make those around me\nhappy. In descending I distributed all the money I possessed. They\nshut me up in one of the compartments of the prison parlor. After some\nminutes, they took me to the director, who asked me if I had any\nobservations to make. \u201cNone,\u201d said I, \u201cunless that I am ignorant why I\nam brought here.\u201d\n\nHis face, and the faces of the agents who surrounded him, seemed very     245\nferocious, but I knew they had been indebted to the insurrection for\ntheir places at Mazas, and must therefore be dissatisfied to see Paris\nrestored to France and to itself. In my heart I pardoned all the ill\nthat had been done me. Nevertheless, one thing astonished me, that I\ndid not see Mgr. Darboy, M. Deguerry, or P\u00e8re Olivaint, or any of the\npriests who had been transported with me from the pr\u00e9fecture de police\nto Mazas. I spied a warden I knew. I asked him where I might expect to\nfind the cur\u00e9 of the Madeleine. He replied with tears in his eyes: \u201cHe\nleft last evening with the archbishop and several other gentlemen! May\nGod watch over you!\u201d\n\nI could not describe the impression made on the happiest of men by\nthis mysterious reply and the frightened appearance of the warden. I\nquestioned him, but he disappeared in a passage. What had happened to\nmy companions? What was going to happen to me?... I sought an\nexplanation to this mystery--but it was beyond my comprehension.\nSuddenly a word, a single word, pronounced, I know not by whom, I know\nnot where, resounded in my ear like a thunderbolt: \u201cLa Roquette!\u201d...\nTo this voice from without, an interior voice instantly replied: \u201cLa\nRoquette, the prison of those condemned to death!\u201d...\n\nThis frightful thunderbolt, which precipitated me into an abyss a\nthousand times more fearful than that from which I thought I had\nissued, was enough to dismay a nature more strongly tempered than\nmine. I was dismayed and broken down, and yet, after the poignant\ngriefs and enervating perplexities that had overwhelmed me for two\nmonths, I had at least the advantage of knowing my certain fate. My\nconscience gave me the consoling testimony that I was a victim of my\nfidelity to duty; my courage revived at the thought of the numerous\nand illustrious captives who had suffered more than I, and whose\nexamples I only had to follow to die as a priest and a Frenchman. I\ncried with the royal Psalmist: \u201cBut I have put my trust in thee, O\nLord: I said: Thou art my God, my lot is in thy hands.\u201d This lifting\nof my heart to God sufficed to give me firmness and the serenity of\nChristian resignation.\n\nWhen they shut me up in one of the grated cages in the vestibule of\nMazas, the warden charged with this painful task secretly pressed my\nhand, and informed me that the Archbishop of Paris, the cur\u00e9 of the\nMadeleine, and most of the other hostages had gone to La Roquette,\nwhere we were now to be taken. His pressure of my hand and the\nconsternation of his face were more eloquent than all he could say. It\nwas a comfort truly providential to find the Abb\u00e9 Amodru again in the\ncage next mine. Our impressions were the same. Thanks to the signs we\nagreed upon when we left the pr\u00e9fecture de police, we could give each\nother absolution. We must find ourselves in the presence of death to\ncomprehend the nothingness of all human things; there is then no\nlonger any difficulty in praying, in repenting, in pardoning our\nfellow-men, and in trusting wholly in the mercy of God.\n\nOne by one the cages opened and shut with a lugubrious noise, and I\nwas surrounded with hostages destined for La Roquette. I was surprised\nto find several under complete illusion respecting our situation. Some\nthought we were about to be restored to liberty, and others did not\nseem to comprehend the significance of our being sent to La Roquette.     246\nIt was not best to enlighten them yet, but I resolved to do so at a\nlater moment. With almost certain death staring us in the face, I\nthought it proper, and especially more Christian, to modify my\nattitude. Until now I had taken an energetic stand against the agents\nof the Commune, and sometimes expressed my indignation. I now resolved\nto speak but little, to pray a great deal, to encourage those of my\ncompanions who should need it, and to arm myself with patience and\nmeekness toward our persecutors.\n\nThe charitable young pharmacist of the prison, who, the night before,\nso gladly announced our approaching liberation, was stationed in a\ncorner of the vestibule to give us a last proof of his sorrowful\nsympathy. This was not only a kind but a courageous act at a moment\nwhen a single smile of compassion might be regarded as treason. A week\nafter, a young man, kneeling by the body of M. Deguerry in the lower\nchapel of the Madeleine, stopped me to express his joy and his grief.\nIt was the pharmacist of Mazas.\n\nAn enormous cart, surrounded by armed national guards, awaited us in\nthe first court. I at once bethought myself of the carts that during\nthe Reign of Terror conveyed the victims of the committee of public\nsafety to execution. And we too were to go in the same direction,\ntoward the Barri\u00e8re du Tr\u00f4ne. Such coincidences could not fail to\nstrike any one familiar with our revolutionary history. Fifteen\nprisoners mounted the cart, among whom I noticed M. Chevriaux, the\nprincipal of the Lyc\u00e9e at Vanves, who bravely wore his ribbon of the\nLegion of Honor; P\u00e8re Bazin; M. Bacues, the director of St. Sulpice;\nan honest workman, and some members of the national guards, guilty of\nnot having sacrificed to the idol of the day. They were mostly\necclesiastics.\n\nWe were told that the reason we had not been sent to La Roquette the\nnight before with the first hostages dispatched was that a third\nvehicle could not be procured. Mgr. Darboy, Mgr. Deguerry, Mgr. Surat,\nand M. Bonjean had suffered very much at Mazas: the prolonged severity\nof the prison discipline had, in particular, shaken the archbishop\u2019s\nhealth. They had been obliged, only a few hours before his departure\nfor La Roquette, to apply blisters to him. But they all showed\nthemselves, by their firmness and patience, superior to their sad\ncondition.\n\nAt the sight of M. Perny and M. Houillon, apostolic missionaries in\nChina, whom the Commune had stupidly arrested on their way through\nParis, M. Deguerry said to Mgr. Darboy: \u201cOnly think of those two\nOrientals coming to seek martyrdom in Paris! Is it not curious?\u201d On\nthe way, they had to encounter the threats and outrages of a rabid\nmob. Men _en blouse_, ragged children, and women, or rather furies,\nwished to stop and enter the vehicles: \u201c_A bas les chouans et les\ncalotins!_\u201d--\u201cStop, we wish to cut them in pieces!\u201d\n\nIt was revolting, monstrous, and yet something still more hideous was\nreserved for us. We were insulted in our turn, not by the multitude,\nbut by the national guards who had charge of us. I could understand\nthe threatening attitude of an over-excited mob, led away by its bad\ninstincts and the speeches of demagogues, but I had never seen, or\nthought it possible, that an armed force could basely insult and\nthreaten those whom they were officially deputed to escort to a place\nof punishment. I had not suspected such a degree of vileness in human\nnature, and felt rather humiliated than indignant. \u201cAh! citizen,\u201d         247\nsaid one of these tigers armed with a _k\u00e9pi_ and a chassepot,\n\u201cyou reckon on the arrival of the Versailles assassins! Well, this\nmorning we cut them off at the Porte d\u2019Auteuil with our mitrailleuses:\ntwenty thousand prisoners are in our hands. The _chouans_ and their\naccomplices will have the fate they merit.\u201d An ecclesiastic of the\nFaubourg St. Antoine, who had been embittered by his trials, wished to\ntake up for the Versailles army. I tried to make him comprehend that\nreserve and silence were the safest and most suitable course for us.\n\nI asked the national guardsman at my right the quarter he was from. He\nreplied that he belonged to the battalion of Charonne. It was more and\nmore manifest that the old suburbs of Paris ruled and kept Paris in\nterror. The quarters St. Martin, St. Antoine, and St. Marceau were no\nlonger rulers of this great city, but the citoyens of Belleville,\nMontmartre, La Villette, M\u00e9nilmontant, Charonne, and Montrouge, that\nis to say, the districts that a few years ago were not a part of\nParis, that had municipalities and material interests distinct from\nParis, and had made a most vigorous resistance to their annexation to\nthe city. But the head of the second empire conceived a pride in\nreigning over a capital containing two millions of inhabitants, and\nthe thickly settled suburbs were violently annexed to Paris. He wished\nto eclipse Babylon and ancient Rome. To make his way through his\ncapital, innumerable boulevards must be opened, bordered by sumptuous\nedifices. To seek the fresh air of the Bois de Boulogne, he must\ntraverse immense avenues peopled with all the wealthy idlers in the\nworld, and consequently new legions of workmen were summoned from\nevery point of the compass, who concentrated themselves like an army\nranged in battle in the annexed zone.\n\nA humble journalist, I had pointed out, as a great social danger, the\ntendency of the empire to separate Paris into two parts, one peopled\nby the aristocracy and bourgeoisie, and the other by workmen,\noutcasts, and the dissatisfied from the entire world. My criticisms\nand sad forebodings were recompensed by officious remonstrances,\ndomiciliary visits, and the seizure of my papers. The course of the\nempire had, then, been fatal to France in a political point of view,\nsince compression had only served to debase its inhabitants and\norganize all kinds of social conspirations; fatal in a religious point\nof view, for the affairs of Rome alarmed the consciences of Catholics,\nand the clergy, so respected in 1848, became the objects of prejudice\nand hatred, the bitter fruits of which we were reaping; and fatal in a\nmilitary sense, for France was humbled and crushed by a foreign power.\n\nI will declare, for the political honor of the eminent men whose\nopposition to the empire I shared, that at the time I thought I was\nabout to be put to death in prison and render the Supreme Judge a\nstrict account of my actions, far from regretting a stand that some of\nmy friends and ecclesiastical superiors had blamed and treated as\n\u201c_passion politique_,\u201d everything at Mazas and La Roquette,\neverything in Paris and the whole of France, assured me I had not\ntaken a wrong course; that, on the contrary, I had served the cause of\nreligion and of my country.\n\n                          TO BE CONTINUED.\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n                       THE D\u00d6LLINGER SCANDAL.                             248\n\n              FROM THE HISTORISCH-POLITISCHE BLAETTER.\n\n\nDuring the course of the year 1857 we published in these pages an\nexhaustive article on the philosophy of Baader. Before the article was\nsent to press, the editor of Baader\u2019s complete works gave to the\npublic the author\u2019s correspondence in another volume, the appearance\nof which occasioned the most painful surprise among the admirers of\nthe great thinker. The book showed that, in his later years, Baader\u2019s\nmind was out of harmony with the church; and that his tone towards it\nhad grown to be one of bitterness even. As was wont to be the case in\nthose happier days, the editors of these pages turned to Dr. D\u00f6llinger\nfor an explanation of the glaring contradictions between the earlier\nand later views of Dr. Baader. The result was a postscript to the\narticle above referred to, written by Dr. D\u00f6llinger, and which may be\nseen in the fortieth volume of the _Historisch-Politische\nBl\u00e4tter_, p. 178.\n\nIn this postscript, Dr. D\u00f6llinger pointed out from the correspondence\nitself what were the reasons of the change, and showed that Baader\u2019s\nanimosity against the church rested only on extraneous and accidental\ncauses, and had nothing to do with his philosophy. \u201cNo further\nkey\u201d--these are D\u00f6llinger\u2019s concluding words--\u201cwill be needed to\nunderstand how the broad chasm that separates the calm convictions of\nthe ripe man in his prime from the passionate, almost childlike,\noutbursts of mental impotence of the old man in his decline, was\noverleaped.\u201d\n\nThese lines were written by Dr. D\u00f6llinger thirteen years ago, and we\nhave often read them since. Step by step, he has himself proceeded in\na course towards the church which he so severely censured in the\nphilosopher of Munich.\n\nThe fall of the two men is to a certain extent the same. The\ngray-haired church historian, too, is separated by a great chasm from\nwhat he was in his prime--at a great distance from the convictions\nthat guided him when he was in the zenith of his intellectual power.\n\nHis deportment and language betray signs of ungovernable passion,\nincompatible with the self-possession of a man who understands his own\nmind.\n\nWe have a right to seek in his case, also, for a psychological\nsolution of the change that has left him the very reverse of what he\nwas. In his case, as in that of Baader, it will be seen that the\nreasons have nothing to do with his erudition as a church historian;\nthat they are of a purely \u201cextraneous and accidental character.\u201d But,\nindeed--and this is the great difference between the two--in Baader\u2019s\ncase, the motives were of a private, domestic nature; in the case of\nD\u00f6llinger, they are of a public and political nature. To express it in\na word, it is the spirit of the times and of the world that has\ncarried D\u00f6llinger into the fatal gulf. D\u00f6llinger\u2019s fall, his breaking\noff from all he was in the past, is only a piece of the political\nhistory of Bavaria during the last twenty years. The Council and the\ndefinition of the 18th of July have only hastened the matter; they\nhave merely given the disease, in its crisis, an acute form; but,         249\nwithout them, the break would still have taken place; for a current of\nthought had set in in D\u00f6llinger\u2019s mind which would have necessitated\nit. When, therefore, we are asked how it happens that a highly learned\nand highly respected man, like D\u00f6llinger, in the enjoyment of a\ncompletely independent position, could cast himself into a current\nrunning counter to his whole previous life, our answer is very simple;\nfor, from the very beginning of a certain period in the history of\nBavaria, every true Catholic was called upon to bear his cross with\nthe church; and it is not given to every one to choose being put in\nthe background when he needs only to yield in order to reap his share\nof the honors of this world.\n\nIt was beyond a doubt impossible for D\u00f6llinger to add anything to his\nreputation for learning. Was he not the head and ornament of the\nCatholic school of Munich? And, by the way, it is beyond a doubt that\nthat school had taught as a body, concerning the _ex cathedr\u00e2_\ndecisions of the Holy See, neither more nor less than is now required\nby the decrees of the Council of the Vatican. Witnesses can be found\nfor every day and year, from among the students of the Munich\ntheological faculty, from the Bishop of Mainz down to the humblest\nparish priest, to show from their notes and memoranda that D\u00f6llinger\nhimself taught exactly what the Archbishop of Munich requires him now\nto subscribe to. Whoever questions the infallibility of the Papal\ndecisions contradicts the present and past testimony of the church,\nand must deny the infallibility of the church itself--such was the\nview of the whole Munich school; such was D\u00f6llinger\u2019s own view.\n\nIf D\u00f6llinger\u2019s present views were correct, the immunity of the church\nfrom error could not for a moment be maintained, no matter where it\nmight be claimed its infallibility resided. D\u00f6llinger subordinates the\nchurch to science and the decisions of the church to the final\njudgment of the learned, more especially to the final judgment of\nhistorians. Such is his theory, and such, practically, his answer to\nhis ecclesiastical superiors.\n\nNot without reason, therefore, does the Archbishop of Munich in his\npastoral, dated Palm Sunday, say: \u201cIn this manner the church\u2019s divine\ncommission and all Catholic truth is called in question.\u201d It cannot\nfor a moment be doubted that a man who speaks as does D\u00f6llinger in his\ndeclaration of the 28th of March last, has lost completely the\nCatholic idea of the church. The only difference between him and the\nProtestants is that, in addition to the Bible, he admits, tradition,\n\u201cthe unanimous consent of the fathers,\u201d to be a source of religious\ntruth; and this a Protestant may also do, provided no external\nauthority be constituted the court of final appeal; and D\u00f6llinger in\nfact claims that there is no such court, since he subordinates both\nPope and Council alike to what he calls \u201cscience.\u201d\n\nIn point of fact, however, even if not expressed in precisely those\nwords, these were D\u00f6llinger\u2019s views years ago. We long since foresaw\nwhat was coming, and just as it has come. It was then a matter of no\nlittle surprise to us that his course caused no uneasiness even in\necclesiastical circles; and that no importance was attached to the\nremarkable revelations to which we now call attention, although the\ncircumstances attending and the persons concerned in them were\ncalculated to invest them with a character of the highest importance.     250\nWe have already referred to the revelations in question as throwing\nlight on the internal history of Bavaria, and on D\u00f6llinger\u2019s dangerous\ncomplication with certain tendencies of the late government; but we\nmust return to the subject, and treat it more particularly. We refer\nespecially to the academical oration held by Dr. D\u00f6llinger on the 13th\nof March, 1864, on King Maximilian II.\n\nIn his oration, he happens to speak of the remarkable interest felt by\nthe deceased monarch in historical research, and reveals to the world\na very strange, \u201ca more secret\u201d motive for the royal interest. The\nreader, to understand the full bearing of the history which we give\nbelow entire on D\u00f6llinger himself, must bear in mind the peculiar\ncharacteristics of a man who has lived more among his books than among\nmen. It would be hard for any one to be more subject to external\ninfluences than D\u00f6llinger is, and, at the same time, to be less\nconscious of their presence or effect. He unconsciously puts forth\nto-day, as the result of his own experience, what he happened to hear\nexpressed yesterday by another. D\u00f6llinger is always the product of his\nsurroundings, and hence his change, as he lost his old friends, one\nafter another, by death or by alienation, and fell in almost\nexclusively with the society of the so-called \u201cBernfenen.\u201d This\nexplains also how it came to pass that many younger men, and the\nmembers of the scientific guild--for example, his little\nMephistopheles, Huber--exercised so unwarranted and increasing an\ninfluence over him. Bearing all this in mind, it is impossible to\noverestimate the effects and influence of the overtures which King\nMaximilian made to Dr. D\u00f6llinger. He was completely intoxicated by\nthem, and his new friends found means to prevent his return to his\nsober senses. The impression made on D\u00f6llinger in the conference in\nquestion must have been the more lasting, as D\u00f6llinger, the\nacknowledged head of the Ultramontane party, could not have hoped to\nstand any higher in his majesty\u2019s favor than any other of that abused\nclass. To express the whole matter in a few words, we are convinced\nthat the careful observer will discover the later as opposed to the\nearlier D\u00f6llinger in the following account, or in his cradle.\n\nThe following extract is from the oration above referred to:\n\n\u201cAs I have permitted myself to refer to the deeper thoughts which\nguided the king in his government, and especially in his attitude\ntowards science, I may also recall certain other communications which\nI received from his own mouth. An upright, faithful Christian, he\nbelieved in the lasting future of Christianity, and, therefore, could\nnot conceive that its divisions and the struggle of the different\nconfessions should continue for ever; that Christians should waste\ntheir powers in mutual injury. The division, he was of opinion, had\nhad its time, and God had permitted it for some high purpose; and that\ntime, even where not entirely past, was near its end; and he believed\nfirmly that in spite of all polemical bitterness, in spite of the\nsordid spirit of self which had intruded itself into the controversy,\nthe day of union for Christian nations would come, and the promise of\none fold and one shepherd be fulfilled. And the great ecclesiastical\nbodies of the West being once reconciled and working with more than\nredoubled intellectual vigor upon the Gr\u00e6co-Russian church, the latter\nwould not long resist the powerful magnetic influence of unity. Or, on\nthe other hand, when once the union of the Catholic and Anatolian         251\nchurches was effected, the various Protestant sects would be gradually\ndrawn into the current and meet their brethren.\n\n\u201cNaturally, however, the attention of the king was claimed in the\nfirst instance by whatever could be looked upon as tending in a\nproximate or remote degree to the reconciliation of the East, and\nparticularly of Germany. He saw that the future union could not be a\nsimple, unaccommodating mechanical coming together of the separated\nconfessions. Neither did he think for a moment of the absorption of\none church into another. It was necessary, he thought, that both\nbodies should first undergo a purgative process, and that each should\nacknowledge that it might receive, though, perhaps, in an unequal\ndegree, some good from the other; that each might help to free the\nother from its peculiar defects and one-sidednesses, and supply what\nwas wanting in each other\u2019s ecclesiastical and religious being; that\neach might heal the other\u2019s wounds; and that neither should be\nrequired to surrender anything which its life and history had proved\nto be a positive good. Under these conditions, sooner or later, the\nprocess of reconciliation and of union would take place in the heart\nof Europe, in Germany.\n\n\u201cSuch nearly were the thoughts which the king developed to me in a\nlong conversation which I had with him, and which I never can forget.\nI do not know how far Schelling\u2019s ideas of an all-embracing church of\nthe future gave form and shape to the royal views. It is a matter of\nfact, however, that that thinker had exerted a great influence on the\nmind of the king long before his accession to the throne. At the same\ntime, the king saw that this idea of a future church entertained by\nLeibnitz and by Germany\u2019s greatest men was recognized as a necessity,\nand confidently hoped for also by his eminent and enlightened kinsman,\nKing Frederick William the Fourth of Prussia. A German patriot, he saw\nin this reunion the salvation of Germany; a Christian, he saw in it a\nbulwark for the defence of the Christian faith, now so fiercely\nmenaced.\n\n\u201cAnd here he believed his own Bavaria was called to take an active and\ninitiatory part, and the Bavarian king not only to point out the way\nthe country was to go, but to guide it in that way. It was not a\nmatter of mere chance the Frankish race, the numerically predominant\nrace in Bavaria, was about equally divided between the two\nconfessions, and that in no country, not even in Prussia, were the\nlocal mixture and inter-relations of Protestants and Catholics so\nintimate and extensive as in Bavaria.\n\n\u201cIn the second place, as far as the king himself was concerned, he\ncould and it was his duty to do something to bring Germany a little\nnearer to the desired goal. He had been obliged to establish a perfect\nequality of rights and of political standing for the professors of\nboth confessions, to the end that no portion of the people might feel\noppressed, or grow embittered, or think themselves kept in the\nbackground, for with such feelings on the part of any portion of the\nnation, all coming together, all understanding, was impossible.\n\n\u201cAnd here he was of opinion science, and particularly historical\nscience, was called upon to accomplish much; for religion itself was\nhistory, and only as a historical fact, and in accordance with the\nrules of historical criticism, could religion be understood or\nappreciated. In his own view, historical science was the kingdom in\nwhich, in the words of the sacred writings, peace and justice would       252\nkiss; for only through history, as established by the most thorough\nresearch, could men know their own past and others\u2019 past, their own\nand others\u2019 failings; through it only was there any hope of begetting\na conciliatory and pacificatory frame of mind.\n\n\u201cThus the field of historical science seemed to the king like the\nTruce of God in the middle ages, or like a sacred city in which those\nelsewhere at variance found themselves at peace together; and, urged\non by the same desires, endeavored to slake their thirst at the same\nfountain of truth, and grew into one communion.\n\n\u201cOut of the scientific fraternity of historians would one day proceed,\nso he hoped, after the trammels of confessions had been done away\nwith, a higher union, embracing all historical, all religious truth, a\nbrotherly reconciliation, such as patriots and Christians alike hoped\nand prayed for.\u201d\n\nAll this Dr. D\u00f6llinger spoke with all the warmth of personal\nconviction. Although the whole is evidently a thrust at the idea of a\nconfession and against the church as an organization, D\u00f6llinger does\nnot append one word of correction in the name of the church. We\ncannot, however, help wondering that a critic so acute, a thinker so\nprofound, as D\u00f6llinger should have surrendered himself to such a\npolitico-religious system. It is easily seen that there are three\nseparate, and in part contradictory, ideas in the royal programme, and\nall three have this in common, that they are totally irreconcilable\nwith the idea of a divinely instituted and saving church.\n\nIn the first place, there is mentioned St. John\u2019s church of love,\nSchelling\u2019s church of the future, on which subject D\u00f6llinger was\notherwise perfectly innocent. An ideal which contemplative enthusiastic\ncharacters like King William the Fourth might cherish, and which might\nalso claim a place in the thoughts of the Bavarian king, could\nscarcely have much attraction for D\u00f6llinger. But it was otherwise with\nthe second idea which King Maximilian had elaborated, that is, with\nthe idea of a German national church; and, finally, with the third\nidea, that of the absorption of all the confessions into a universal\nrepublic of _savants_, and the church into a world-academy of\nscience. Here the thread of the supernatural is completely lost,\nthough, perchance, the king himself was not aware of it; for, is this\nnot the most utter rationalism?\n\nIf, now, we look at D\u00f6llinger\u2019s declaration of the 28th of March, we\nwill find these two ideas standing out in bold relief. The odious\nantithesis of Germanism and Romanism may indeed be in harmony with the\nreigning political spirit; it certainly is incompatible with the idea\nof the Catholic Church. Whoever presumes in the name of nationality to\nspeak of any member of the church as of the \u201cRoman party,\u201d either\nknows not what he is doing or must wish the \u201cGerman national church\u201d\nin schism. From this there is but one step, and that not a hard one\nfor the pride of intellect or the haughtiness of science, to the\nposition occupied by D\u00f6llinger in his declaration to the archbishop,\nin which he places the scientific fraternity of historians as the\nhighest authority over the church, and makes it the court of final\nappeal in matters of faith. And yet the learned gentleman, although he\nsigns himself only \u201ca Christian,\u201d will have us consider him a\nCatholic.\n\nIt is impossible to look into the abyss into which this once clear\nthinker has fallen without a feeling of terror. Is it not sufficient\nto open the eyes of every one that the apostles of German Catholicism     253\nand free religion, like a Heribert Rau and an Oswald, have again\ncalled the attention of the public to their already published works as\nan \u201cinteresting commentary on Dr. D\u00f6llinger\u2019s protest\u201d?\n\nIt is true that D\u00f6llinger has nothing in common with those men in his\nviews of his relations to God; but then we must remember these\ngentlemen are only drawing their own consequences, and D\u00f6llinger has\nlost all right to find fault with the consequences they draw.\n\nThe unwarranted introduction of nationalism into the idea of the\nchurch was doubtless D\u00f6llinger\u2019s first step downhill. This gained, the\ndisturbers of the peace of the church soon possessed themselves of the\nwhole man. There can be nothing more hostile to the real spirit of\nCatholicism than this false principle of nationality; for the end of\nthe church, in a spiritual point of view, is to smooth away all\nnational differences, and bring the different nations into one fold.\n\nTo wish, at a time like the present, when the fanaticism of\nnationality, if we may be allowed the expression, is tending to\nalienate still more the peoples of different nations--to wish, we say,\nat such a time to destroy the only tie that holds them together, is to\nbetray the wildest party fanaticism imaginable.\n\nWe can understand what the cry for a German national church means in\nthe mouths of those modern Neros, the liberalists--in the mouth of any\none else, we cannot understand it.\n\nWe know very well that D\u00f6llinger was very far from desiring a schism\nwhen he spoke at the Linzer Catholic meeting in 1850, upon the subject\nof the place of German nationalism in the church. It was somewhat\notherwise in his declarations in the Munich Conference in 1863. There\na turning-point was discoverable.\n\nA short time previously, the at first purely scientific difference\nwith the \u201cRoman party,\u201d or neo-scholastics, had arisen. D\u00f6llinger had\nroused the suspicions of these latter; but we feel certain that at\nthat time there were no grounds for their suspicions. He was, it was\nplain, only a little too susceptible to the influences of a certain\nkind of liberalism, and extraordinarily anxious to do away with any\nsuspicion of adhering to the Ultramontane party.\n\nThe danger practically and in point of fact began when he became\nentangled in Bavarian politics, especially in what concerns the\nquestion of the relations of science to ecclesiastical authority.\n\u201cGerman science\u201d now became the focus in which the more or less\nconscious tendencies of D\u00f6llinger were concentrated. It is in 1865\nthat we must place the real turning-point in D\u00f6llinger\u2019s career.\n\nAbout the end of the year 1861, the writer of these lines went to\nFrankfort-on-the-Main. He visited B\u00f6hmer, and will never forget a\nscene he witnessed on the occasion of that visit. The great historian\nwas sick at the time, fresh in mind, it is true, but in a repining\ncondition, and almost bitter. Our conversation turned on the condition\nof the University of Munich under the _r\u00e9gime_ of the so-called\n\u201cBernjungen.\u201d B\u00f6hmer expressed great regret at what was going on in\nMunich, but reserved the vials of his wrath for the celebrities of the\nmonth of March previous. Especially, he made D\u00f6llinger responsible for\nit that so favorable a time had not been used for the founding of a\nhistorical school in the interests of the church. It was well known\nthat Dr. D\u00f6llinger had had many scholars during his long career as a\nprofessor; but he had founded no school. It might be said, even, that\nhe did not leave a disciple after him. Whilst he expatiated in the        254\nendless world of book in a manner hitherto unparalleled, perhaps it\nbecame impossible for him to prepare the living materials which young\nmen needed, and lost the gift of sociability.\n\nB\u00f6hmer became more and more aggravated as he proceeded, till, finally,\nhis anger culminated in the following anecdote: He said that, when\nD\u00f6llinger visited Frankfort last, he had had a walk with him through\nthe city, and D\u00f6llinger had spoken to him about his literary plans.\nHe, B\u00f6hmer, remonstrated with him, and inquired why he did not fulfil\nhis older promises; why he did not continue his unfinished church\nhistory. Whereupon D\u00f6llinger, stopping and swinging his cane, said\nwith a smile: \u201cYou see, I can\u2019t do that; for now my researches have\nbrought me to such a pass that I cannot make the end of my history\ntally with the beginning; the continuation of my church history would\nbe entirely Protestant.\u201d I see B\u00f6hmer this moment before me with the\nsame grim visage which he wore as he closed this story with the words:\n\u201c_He--he_ said that!\u201d\n\nStill, in 1860, D\u00f6llinger\u2019s great work, _Christianity and the Church\nin the time of their Foundation_, appeared. Embracing the results of\nthe latest research, and written in the most charming manner, this\nbook touched and strengthened many a Catholic heart, as it did my own.\nBut D\u00f6llinger has made that same beautiful book a sad memorial of his\nfall. He had written the book when he was sixty years of age, but\nwhen, in 1868, the second edition of it appeared, it was discovered\nthat he had omitted some of the principal passages of the first\nedition, bearing upon the promises to and the establishment of the\nprimacy; and what he had not omitted, he had changed in the interests\nof liberalism, and all without giving any ground for the alterations,\nwithout a single note even.\n\nD\u00f6llinger has a wonderful memory for everything in the world of print,\nbut very little for what concerns his own person or his own acts. When\nhe wrote his declaration to the Archbishop of Munich, he seems to have\nquite forgotten the intentional \u201ccorrections\u201d of his celebrated work.\nOtherwise, he would not have referred to the approval which it met\nwith from the whole of Catholic Germany, and raised the question,\nWhich text he meant--the true one of 1860, or the altered, not to say\nthe falsified, one of 1868? Moreover, he, as the inspirer of\n_Janus_, recalled, in that last-named book, the little he had left in\nthe edition of 1868 favorable to the primacy, for the reason that it\n\u201ccontradicted all opinions of the fathers, and the principles of\nexegetical theology.\u201d In other words, _Janus_ has completely and\nflatly denied the primacy.\n\nIt is hard to calculate what a blessing D\u00f6llinger might have been the\nmeans of to his contemporaries and to posterity, had he continued to\nmake the rich treasures of his knowledge accessible to Christendom as\nhe had done in his work of 1860. The Almighty, who had preserved him\nupright during the wars and passions of these later years, would have\ndecreed him doubtless a rare old age had he remained true to his\nresolution not to divide his powers, to live an unprejudiced votary of\nscience. It was to be otherwise. That book was the last fruit of the\nprofessional activity of the historian. The historian was now to\nbecome the bitter party-man, not to say the future Bavarian senator,\nand, as a writer, a mere political pamphleteer. Here his career as a      255\nman of science closes.\n\nLate in the fall of 1861 appeared his work, _The Church and the\nChurches, etc._ It was a kind of colossal apology for the two\nwell-known Odeon Lectures of the fifth and ninth of April of the same\nyear, on the temporal power of the popes. In these lectures D\u00f6llinger\nhas come forward in the _r\u00f4le_ of the politician--a _r\u00f4le_ which he\nwas never intended to play on account of his too great credulity.\nExpressions had crept into these lectures so little savoring of piety,\nso painful to Catholic hearts, that the worst was feared for D\u00f6llinger\nin ecclesiastical circles. We also feared the consequences. D\u00f6llinger\nhimself was evidently staggered at the unexpected impression of his,\nto say the least, unexplained appearance in such a character. The book\nwhich followed, in other respects a wonder of historical information,\nwas nothing but a powerful effort to shield himself from the\nconsequences of this step.\n\nThe ideas expressed in the royal conversation above referred to are\nhere recognizable, more particularly in the introduction, as well as\nthe endeavor to harmonize them with the principles of the church. It\nwould not be very difficult to allay the doubts which D\u00f6llinger has\nendeavored to awaken concerning the medi\u00e6val church and the Papacy in\nhis (or his amanuensis\u2019s) letters on the council in the _Allgemeine\nZeitung_, and now in his \u201cdeclaration,\u201d from his own work of 1861. The\nEncyclical, and particularly the doctrine of the Syllabus on the\nrelations of church and state, may be both explained and defended by\nthe assistance of the same book. D\u00f6llinger then knew very well how to\nvindicate the true sense of certain decrees and bulls of the popes\nissued while the medi\u00e6val relations of the church to the state were yet in\nforce; he well knew then how to separate what is transient from that\nwhich is eternally true. If, at that time, any one had come to him to\ntell him that Napoleon III. intended to take advantage of the Bull\n\u201cCum ex apostolatus officio\u201d against the Protestant princes of Germany\nand Prussia, with what shouts of laughter would he not have received\nhim! Now he himself is guilty of just such an absurdity--and how grave\nhe is withal!\n\nThe question of the relations of science to church authority became\nnow in Bavaria a practical question, and D\u00f6llinger was called upon to\nprove the strength of his principles by overt acts. One difference\nfollowed another in that country, and D\u00f6llinger was as interested in\nthem as he could be in matters entirely personal to himself. Like a\ngeneral, he felt himself responsible for the result of all those\ncontests, and never thought of examining closely the claims of those\nwho crowded around him and offered him their services. In this way it\nwas that he became the protector of one so unworthy as Pichler against\nthe archiepiscopal ordinary. At this time, even, he had his passionate\nturns, which gave rise to serious misgivings, but which he was sure to\nregret himself before any length of time had expired.\n\nAt this period the episcopal conference at Fulda resolved to take\nsteps to revive action in the matter of the establishment of a \u201cfree\nCatholic university.\u201d D\u00f6llinger could see in this nothing but the\nproof of a dark conspiracy against German science.\n\nHe was unable to see that the anti-ecclesiastical, not to say the\nantichrist, spirit which had crept into the universities, was more\nthan even he would be willing to be accountable for were he the chief     256\npastor of a diocese.\n\nThe opinion expressed in an appeal to the Catholic ladies of Germany\non the subject of the higher schools, made him lose his patience\naltogether. The outbreak of the Seminary question in Spiers was in his\nview another attempt of those infected with the \u201cRoman\u201d spirit against\nfree German science, and it found him, even if not publicly, on the\nside of the decided opponents of the bishop\u2019s rightful claim in the\nmatter.\n\nVery nearly at the same time, the then Bavarian minister of worship\nmade a report to the king on the occasion of a vacancy in the\ntheological faculty of W\u00fcrzburg, in which he painted the clergy\neducated in the German College at Rome in no flattering terms. An\naccidental circumstance threw suspicion on D\u00f6llinger as the instigator\nof it. The pamphlet \u201cfor the information of kings,\u201d which appeared in\nthe beginning of 1866, represented D\u00f6llinger, although only under the\ngeneral name \u201cof the Munich school,\u201d as the real actor in the minister\nof worship\u2019s puppet-play. There was a report that in the Spiers\nmatter, speaking of the attitude of the bishops, he had said: \u201cThey\nare attempting to misuse the king\u2019s youth!\u201d How much of this had its\nfoundation in truth, to what extent the statements of the pamphlet\nwere based on a change or mistake between the ministry and cabinet,\nmust remain undecided.\n\nThe pamphlet referred to created no small excitement, however; and,\nprecisely two years before the appearance of the notorious articles on\nthe Council, was exhaustively replied to in the _Allgemeine\nZeitung_. The style and other accidents would lead to suppose that\nthe \u201camanuensis,\u201d since known more of, had here made his _d\u00e9but_. The\nreply was not a refutation. It was made up of a series of\ncounter-complaints, and, with the exception of the attacks on the\nJesuits, the Roman party, and the boys\u2019 seminaries, these articles\ncontain the kernel of the articles against the Council published two\nyears later. In spite of all this, however, D\u00f6llinger is represented\nin these articles as of the same unaltered mind with other members of\nthe faculty, Haneberg and Reithmayer.\n\n\u201cIf there was no ground of suspicion during all these long years, no\nreason to believe that these men were hankering after dangerous\nnovelties, how comes it recently that such suspicions are aroused,\nseeing that they have always been of the same mind?\u201d It is now certain\nthat this unanimity has since ceased; and it is clear that D\u00f6llinger\u2019s\nmonstrous accusation--\u201cnot a soul believes it\u201d--must have been\nunjustly brought by him against his colleagues. The articles also\nquote the words of the T\u00fcbingen theologian: \u201cThe suspicion has spread\nfurther--D\u00f6llinger and Michelis are no longer innocent.\u201d What says the\nT\u00fcbinger of the drifting of these two men to-day?\n\nOn the first of January, 1867, the Hohenlohe ministry took charge of\nthe ship of state.\n\nIt will not be claimed that D\u00f6llinger\u2019s influence increased with the\naccession of his old friend Prince Hohenlohe to the ministry; it\nseemed more probable that the prince would have found the learned\nprofessor a powerful obstacle in his way. The prince had formerly been\nconsidered unexceptionable in his religious views and relations; but\nin order to dissipate the bad odor in which he was in the highest\ncircles, suspected as he was of favoring Prussia, he knew no better\nmethod than to encourage the superstitious fear of the Ultramontanes\nand of the Jesuits which for twenty years had reigned within the walls    257\nof the royal palace at Munich. This it was which had made Dr.\nD\u00f6llinger so interesting a subject since he was regenerated from the\ninfection of Ultramontanism.\n\nCountenanced by such a man, it was thought the discomfiting of the\n\u201cclerical party\u201d would be a less dangerous operation than effecting it\nby an unasked-for alliance with the party of progress.\n\nThis explains how Prince Hohenlohe, at the head of the foreign\ndepartment, was determined to serve D\u00f6llinger in every way possible\nagainst the \u201cCuria\u201d and all matters related to it.\n\nThe infamous articles on the Council appeared in the _Allgemeine\nZeitung_ from the 10th to the 15th March, 1869, under an anonymous\nname. Every effort was made to conceal the author, and even to mislead\nthe public as to who he was. The real author could not conceal himself\nas far as we were concerned; but it required a long time to convince\nthe many, and great was the surprise of all unprejudiced minds at the\ndiscovery.\n\nIn the meantime, the preparation of the anonymous _Janus_ was\nundertaken, and the circulatory dispatches of Prince Hohenlohe made\ntheir appearance on the 9th of April, 1869, which, of course,\nD\u00f6llinger could not well subscribe as their author. The council of\nministers, of course, was not consulted in the matter; and the\nwell-known five questions put by Prince Hohenlohe to the theological\nfaculties of Munich and W\u00fcrzburg, concerning the future council, were\nnot whispered to the minister of foreign affairs by some secret agent.\n\nIn the name of the majority of the faculty of Munich, D\u00f6llinger was\ncalled upon to answer his own questions. In contradistinction to the\nclear and frank separate vote of Professors Schmid and Thalhofer, and\nto the incisive opinion of the W\u00fcrzburger faculty, that exposition was\nbut the unworthy production of a time-server. It was impossible for\nany one to discover the real meaning of the opinion. The only thing\nplainly discoverable was the ambiguity by which the author sought to\nshield himself from trouble.\n\nThe absence of conviction in the whole affair is so evident that we\nmay well yet remain in doubt concerning the position of D\u00f6llinger\u2019s\ncolleagues; and that in spite of the fact that the libellous articles\nof the _Allgemeine Zeitung_ are to be found in the widespread pages of\n_Janus_. We have already looked into this department of the literature\nof our day; we have done so already. Not only was infallibility\ncondemned in it; but the primacy, at least since 845, is there made to\nappear as an infinite series of deception and forgeries, or, as\n_Janus_ expresses it, as a sickly, uncouth, consumptive-engendering\nexcrescence on the organism of the church. Not only was the future\ncouncil condemned before it was held, but the Council of Trent was\nturned into \u201ca should-be \u0153cumenical council,\u201d which was arbitrarily\ngoverned by legates, in which the Roman party alone had sway, and\nwhich, in a word, was nothing but an assemblage of fools and\npickpockets. This view of the Council of Trent D\u00f6llinger seems to have\nforgotten, when he wrote his declaration of the 28th of March of the\npresent year, in which he refers to the Tridentine article of faith\nwhich he had twice sworn to, and in which he leaves out the essential\npart of the oath, namely, the promise to interpret the Holy Scripture\nonly \u201cin the sense approved by Holy Mother Church.\u201d                       258\n\nThe foreign office and its zealous co-operator, the learned professor,\nnow began their campaign against the Council. The reporter of the\nLeipzig _Grenzboten_ of the 24th of June, 1870, thus expresses himself\non the subject: \u201cThe alarming circulatory dispatches of Prince\nHohenlohe have turned to political account the results obtained by\n_Janus_, and introduced them into governmental and diplomatic\ncircles.\u201d The Bavarian ambassador, a man of no distinction and one who\nfavored the \u201cCuria,\u201d was recalled and replaced by Count Tauffkirchen,\nthe most talented diplomatist at that time at the disposal of the\ngovernment.\n\nHis operations in Rome were very influential; and if the matter\nfurnished by the events in the Council became immediately the subject\nof discussion in the press and in the literature of the day, the\nBavarian Embassy is not entitled in the least to the merit of it. The\nrest was accomplished by D\u00f6llinger, as is now well known, and by his\nintimate young friend Lord Acton.\n\nAbout the end of the year appeared the pamphlet, _Considerations for\nthe Bishops of the Council on the Question of Papal Infallibility_.\nThis time he appeared again anonymously, but without making any extra\neffort to conceal himself as the author. A little later, he appeared\nunder his own name in the official organ of the new Catholic theology,\nthe _Allgemeine Zeitung_, in the \u201cDeclaration in the matter of the\naddress touching Papal Infallibility,\u201d on the 19th January, 1870. From\nthis declaration, says the Lepzig correspondent more than once\nreferred to above, proceeded his agreement with the views of _Janus_.\n\nThe publication of his name was no sooner made than the party of\nprogress took it as a signal to make him their own entirely.\n\nThis had already been done in the press; now it was accomplished in\nthe House.\n\nOn the 7th of February, Dr. V\u00f6lk, a deputy, seized the opportunity\npresented by the debates on the \u201caddress\u201d to drag D\u00f6llinger into the\nfield against the \u201cpatriotic\u201d majority. He read the most objectionable\nand most venomous parts of the \u201cConsiderations\u201d and \u201cDeclaration,\u201d and\nimputed these views to the majority of the House as their own\nopinions, endeavoring to drive them to declare themselves for\nD\u00f6llinger and against the Pope and the Council. The \u201cpatriotic\u201d\nmajority had taken care not to embitter the debates by introducing\nquestions ecclesiastical into them; but now a defence was called for.\nThe stenographic report describes the scenes, which were closed with\nthe following words from Deputy T\u00f6rg:\n\n\u201cI have been on the most intimate terms with the gentleman whom Deputy\nV\u00f6lk so formally parades before the House, for years. I became\nacquainted with him shortly after the time of the \u2018genuflexion\nquestion\u2019 in Bavaria; and, surely, no one then imagined that a time\nwould come when Dr. D\u00f6llinger would be thus quoted before the whole\nHouse by Dr. V\u00f6lk. I consider it a terrible misfortune, and accept it\nas such; yes, gentlemen, as a personal misfortune. Dr. D\u00f6llinger was\nan authority for me; he is such no longer; for he has fallen the\nvictim of blind passion and lost the calmness necessary to the forming\nof an opinion; and he is no longer in a condition to formulate a\ndogmatic question as a theologian ought to be able to formulate one.\u201d\n\nBut that is not what D\u00f6llinger wants. He now stands in dread of all       259\nconscientious critics, his own fame for critical acumen being entirely\ngone.\n\nHe makes the definition of Papal infallibility a monstrous bugbear,\nand no remonstrance prevails to prevent his making the bugbear more\nterrible to himself and others. The worst feature in the whole is his\npassion against the temporal power. He sees nothing in his opponents\nthat is not criminal. They use the infallible Pope to depose the\nmonarchs who do not suit them, to absolve subjects from their oath of\nfealty, to overthrow constitutions, to annihilate every right. Dr.\nD\u00f6llinger endeavors by the most unqualified denunciation to tell the\nnew German Empire--elsewhere he always says that the doctrine was\nnever known in Germany: \u201cI cannot dissemble that this doctrine, in\nconsequence of which the former German empire perished, in case it\nshould obtain sway among the Catholic portion of the German nations,\nwould sow the seeds of an incurable disease in the newly founded\nGerman empire.\u201d\n\nBut what now? As we have already pointed out, the matter did not turn\nout as those interested wished it would.\n\nIt was expected that D\u00f6llinger\u2019s influence would have carried the\ngreater part of the clergy and intimidated the bishops; thus it was\nhoped without much danger would be obtained the object which, although\nyet not clearly defined in every particular, embraced, at all events,\nthe annihilation of Ultramontanism, of the \u201cclerical party,\u201d and of\nthe Jesuits in Germany. It was hoped to accomplish all this without\nthe always, as was acknowledged, dangerous assistance of the party of\nprogress, through the mere weight of D\u00f6llinger\u2019s name and influence.\nBut his name has not accomplished what was hoped it would. The\nauxiliaries wished for did not come; the others who were not expected\ncame in crowds. Scarcely had the national liberals rested from other\narduous tasks than they enlisted under D\u00f6llinger\u2019s standard for the\naccomplishment of their next and greatest task, the destruction of\nthe Catholic Church in Germany. We are far from denying that at\nfirst, under the pressure of slanders and denunciations, some\nwell-intentioned men were carried away. We have hopes for their\nreturn, and do not wish to wound the feelings of any one. But when Dr.\nD\u00f6llinger surveys the chaos of the \u201caddress,\u201d and considers how it\nwould fare with him could he hear the confessions of all these\n\u201cCatholics,\u201d I do believe he would blush at such adherents, for I do\nnot believe he has quite lost the power of distinguishing moral\nturpidity from virtue.\n\nHe need not know the state of the consciences of his Munich colleagues\nwho signed the address, in which they hesitate not to give the lie to\nthe whole Catholic episcopate; he knows better than anybody how many\nof them have a moral right to speak in the name of \u201cCatholic\nChristendom.\u201d\n\nViewing the matter in this light, we have in one way wondered at the\nsigning of many, in another way we have wondered at the signing of\nonly a few. And in the face of such phenomena, Dr. D\u00f6llinger desires a\nchurch the duty of whose bishops it shall be simply to declare that\nwhich all believers, represented by scientists, will have thought or\nbelieved upon a question of the faith.\n\nIt is easy to say what the next thing sought by those who follow\nbehind D\u00f6llinger\u2019s banner is. The police regulations required by the\ngovernment against the decrees of the Council are a matter of secondary\nimportance. And the great storm of an ovation given to D\u00f6llinger is       260\nmeant not so much for D\u00f6llinger himself as for its influence on the\nking and his government.\n\nThe king must a second time be made to serve the cause of German\nliberalism. We said it in the beginning: as soon as the little German\nEmpire is established, the party will want a \u201cGerman National Church\u201d\nfor their little empire. We did not think, indeed, that any attempt at\nthis would be made so soon; for, a year ago, men who knew what they\nwere talking about assured us that so long as the old king lived he\nwould not permit the peace of religion to be disturbed; but that it\nwould be otherwise with those who came after him. But now that the\nking has become German Emperor, unanimous reports of the contrary come\nto us. \u201cThe idea of the establishment of a German National Church is\ntaking deeper root, to all appearances, in the government circles.\u201d So\na relatively unprejudiced Berlin correspondent lately reported. The\nrest of the tale is told by the debates in the chamber of deputies.\n\nThe party are anxious to strike the iron while it is hot; not without\nreason was the party battle-cry spoken during the war--all our noble\nblood were shed in vain did not the stroke which freed us from France\nsever the Catholics of Germany from Rome--\u201cWar against France and\nagainst--Rome!\u201d Even Dr. Michelis joined in the cry.\n\nIf it was very desirable that the Bavarian king should take the\ninitiative in the matter of the imperial title, it was also very\ndesirable that the first step for the establishment of the \u201cGerman\nNational Church\u201d should proceed from the palace at Munich.\n\nThe King of Bavaria was to be to the \u201cnew Luther\u201d what Prince\nFrederick of Saxony had been to Luther of old; and on that account, he\nis promised the surname of the Wise. This is the meaning of the\ninfamous telegram of the tenth of March from Dresden--\u201chim, the\nenlightened thinker who publicly proclaims his dissatisfaction with\nthe dogma of Papal infallibility!\u201d When the representatives of high\noffices in Munich dare to set themselves up publicly as commanders in\nthe military ecclesiastical society, one need not be surprised at the\nprogressionist intrusive attempts, rashly sporting with the\nmonarchical principle itself. Thus only can we understand how any one\ncould be so bold as to encourage the clergy to fall by insinuating a\nprovision that no one might fear a material loss. Could the necessary\nnumber of state-church servants have been found, the programme was\nthat the King of Bavaria should give the \u201cGerman National Church\u201d its\nfirst ground in the Munich places of worship. We wish to be excused\nfrom describing further the plan which finally would make true the\nsaying: \u201cThey wish to misuse the king\u2019s youth.\u201d\n\nWe are not deceived. Should this plan fail, another will be sought to\naccomplish what is intended. D\u00f6llinger has been in relation with\nPrussian diplomats since 1866. However, neither he nor the new German\nEmpire has the divine promise which the church has; and where the Pope\nand the bishops are, there is the church.\n\nLet all Catholics gather more closely yet about the centre of unity.\nWe can do no better service to the world. God will take care of the\nrest.\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n                  A GHOST STORY OF THE REVOLUTION.                        261\n\n\nWe have not many haunted spots now in our Empire State, or even in\nAmerica, and very few genuine goblin stories, such as once upon a\ntime, told by the fireside, made one afraid to look behind him;\ndelightful old tales, implicitly believed in by narrator and\nlisteners, and casting over all a shadow of utter and indefinable\nterror! Not that ghosts have ceased to come, but they are things of\ncourse now, and their position with regard to mortals in the flesh is\nentirely changed; the territory of spirit-land (at least a part of it)\nhas been annexed, we may say, to our free and independent thirty-seven\nstates; a regular intercourse has been opened; and, as the intangible\nparties in the compact have frequent and passing invitations to make\nearthly visits at certain specified periods, it is no more than civil\nin them to wait until they are expected.\n\nNow, in years gone by it was quite otherwise; so far from being\ninvited, they were universally shunned; man, woman, and child fled at\nthe slightest indication of their presence; and as for speech, it was\nnext to impossible for them to put in a single word before the\nterror-stricken mortal had speeded away, far beyond all hearing. Not\nmuch seemed the gain to either side by those interviews; occasionally\nsome rogue was known to disgorge his ill-gotten pelf in consequence of\nthe midnight apparitions of some phantom things, a warning to him to\nmend his ways; or some timid heart perhaps grew faint, and before long\ntime ceased to beat, under the idea that it had received a\nsupernatural summons to the unseen world; but generally speaking, the\nshock of an intense and overpowering affright was about all that\naccrued to the sight-seer from the meeting--a terror so genuine that\nhe was able to impart it to many a circle of eager listeners for an\nincredibly long period after the adventure.\n\nBut what attraction has modern America for sprites, spooks, brownies,\nfairies, and all that dainty ethereal tribe that may be met in the Old\nWorld? Or what, for the more solemn shadows that haunt dilapidated\ngalleries, in the tumble-down ruins of ancient transatlantic castles?\nWhat homes have we for \u201celves and little people,\u201d that dance for\nyears, yes for centuries, on the same greensward in the Highlands of\nScotland? Alas! in an incredibly short period grass here gives place\nto wheatfields, and fairy rings would be disrespectfully ploughed up\nand planted. Let any sociable _brownie_ plan a visit to old\nfriends, she would probably find the whole family, bag and baggage,\nmoved off to the far West, and only strangers round the hearthstone.\nThey love things old, and here all is new and cheerful under the\ntireless march of improvement. We have no black forest, no\n\n         \u201cCastled crag of Drachenfels,\u201d\n\nbut the primitive woodland yet clothes the mountain that \u201cfrowns o\u2019er\nthe wide and winding\u201d river.\n\nThe nearest approach to a haunted castle is to be seen sometimes in\ntravelling over the Western States. There, in some lonely inconvenient\nspot which no prudent man would have chosen for a homestead, an\nunfinished, overgrown, weakly-looking wooden house tells its story,       262\nnot of greatness gone by, but of greatness planned and never\naccomplished--a pitiful comment on the uncertainty of human affairs!\nIt happens thus: Some settler, sadly miscalculating his resources,\nprojects a palace in the wilderness on a scale of city splendor; that\nis, with parlor, dining-room, kitchen, bedrooms, and the little\nelegances of pantries and closets. The sides are enclosed, the roof is\non, and the revenues he counted on as certain are not forthcoming.\nThen do papered walls and panelled doors with brass knobs, and visions\nof portico and piazza, all float away to the blue clouds; the hapless\ndreamer fits up one corner room for the reception of his whole\nhousehold until he can find another _location_, and take a new start\nin the search after fortune, and so abandons his rickety palace to the\nlord of the soil. As the boards blacken in wind and storm, and one end\nblows down perhaps in some rough northwester, it gains the name of\nbeing haunted; and to ride past such a skeleton thing by moonlight or\nin the dim twilight, with the utter desolation of all around, and the\nyawning blackness of cavities which should have been doors and\nwindows, it requires no great stretch of imagination to picture an\nunearthly head peeping out here and there. Very bold yeomen are known\nto always whip their horses to a full gallop as they approach and pass\nthe fearful spot; and as for women and children, under that strange\nfascination by which the supernatural repels and yet attracts, they\nalways gaze intently, and as surely \u201csee something\u201d!\n\nAlthough goblin visits in our land are just now rather on the decline\n(except in a regular business way), there was a time when strange\nsights were seen and strange things happened; and, although it may\nseem almost incredible, it is a fact well established in history that\nit was generally to the Dutch settled here, to that clearheaded,\nreasoning nation, so little likely to be deceived on any subject, that\nmost of these revelations were made.\n\nThis certainly ensures for the tales the firm belief of all mankind.\nWhen an imaginative Hibernian or a lively, light-hearted Gaul\nannounces a vision, it must be taken with some little allowance for\nflights of fancy, etc., etc.; but when a phlegmatic, cool-headed\nHollander declares he has seen a _spook_, you may believe as if it was\nyour own eyes.\n\nFor the precise period most prolific in signs, sights, and dreams, we\nmust go back to the early days of our state, yet not to the\n_first_ settlers. _Their_ troubles, so numerous that it is scarcely\npossible to number them, had their origin in things tangible; and so\nclosely did these troubles press daily on all sides, that the thoughts\nof the first colonists were entirely engrossed by the things of earth.\nTo such a point did this downward tendency reach, that they seemed at\ntimes in danger of relapsing into heathendom, as may be seen from the\nreports sent back to Amsterdam, and yet extant among colonial papers,\nthat they possessed neither school-houses nor churches. They did\npossess, however, three unfailing sources of annoyances and danger--an\nIndian warfare, neighbors on their eastern boundary of unparalleled\naudacity, and domestic bickerings in the perpetual strife kept up\nbetween Manhattan and Rensselaerwyck.\n\nWhat might have happened if the Indians had been treated with common\njustice and honesty can be now only conjecture; but their wrongs began\nat the beginning. It is a dark spot on the glories of the adventurous     263\nlittle yacht _Half-Moon_ that her very first track through the waters\nof the magnificent Cahohat\u00e9a (now the Hudson) was marked with their\nblood, causelessly and wantonly shed.\n\nHendrik Hudson and his crew landed, we are told, on the western bank\nof the great bay, which was lined with \u201cmen, women, and children, by\nwhom they were kindly received, and presented with tobacco and dried\ncurrants.\u201d[68] A little further on were \u201cvery loving people and very\nold men, by whom the Europeans were well used.\u201d They brought in their\ncanoes to the voyagers all sorts of fruit and game, and on one\noccasion of a visit made by white men to the shore they broke their\narrows and threw them in the fire to express their pacific intentions.\nYet despite all this, when the vessel had advanced only a few miles,\none of her crew fired and killed an Indian, without the least warning,\nfor attempting to steal a pillow and some old garments.[69] No\nsatisfaction was offered to the terrified savages, and they pushed off\nfor the shore in their canoes, but they vowed a vengeance, and they\nkept the vow; so that, when some few years later one ship after\nanother brought the enterprising individuals who first unpacked their\nhousehold utensils and farm tools in the New World, they entered upon\na stormy existence already prepared for them. It was not a glimpse of\nwraith or goblin that people feared to encounter in the lonely\nby-path, but the stealthy tread and dark visage of some lurking\nsavage, ever watchful and merciless, ever close at hand when least\nexpected. How often in the silent night, in how many little hamlets,\nin how many solitary huts, women and children listened in speechless\nterror to the war-whoop, that fearful yell, and were made to feel\nIndian retaliation for the evil doings of fathers and husbands! Small\ntime had they for ghostly fears. When the savages fled before European\nfirearms, it was only to return. More than two thousand of them\nappeared in their canoes at one time before the little block-house at\nManhattan, because Hendrik von Dyke, with an imprudence and wickedness\nperfectly disgraceful in a mynheer, had killed a squaw for stealing\napples in his orchard. His orchard was on the present site of Rector\nStreet.\n\nBut, though the Dutch colonists were generally at fault in provoking\ncontention, they were also valiant, after some preparation, to meet\nit. When Claes Smit was ruthlessly murdered by the natives, some time\nabout 1642, and they refused either to give up or punish his murderer\nbecause he had fled and could not be found, the colonists consented to\nmarch to battle,\n\n     \u201cprovided the director himself (Von Kieft) accompanied them\n     to prevent disorder, also that he furnish, in addition to\n     powder and ball, provision necessary for the expedition,\n     such as _bread and butter_, and appoint a steward to\n     take charge of the same, so that all waste be prevented.\n\n     \u201cIf any person require anything more than this _bread and\n     butter_, he to provide himself therewith.\u201d[70]\n\nFinally, however, gunpowder prevailed; and the aborigines retreated to\nforests beyond the reach of the _pale-faces_; schoolmasters and\nministers had been sent over from Holland, and the inhabitants of\nManhattan Island, as well as the other little settlements up the\nriver, began to live a more spiritual life, and to gather around them     264\nby degrees all that troop of unearthly beings well-known in the mother\ncountry. Little children were encouraged to be good and expect Santa\nKlaus, and bad ones were no longer frightened into propriety with the\nthreat of being devoured by some hideous Waranancongyn with tomahawk\nand scalping-knife.\n\nOne of the spots first renowned for ghostly adventures was a pleasant\nlittle valleylike place, on the northern limits of the town, called\nMedge Padje (now Maiden Lane), where a clear stream ran between grassy\nbanks, so gentle and noiseless that it carried the gazer\u2019s heart\nback--far back over the ocean to the canals of Faderlandt, and was a\nperfect relief from the lashing waves of the great North River.\nHither, on pleasant summer afternoons, many a gude vrow would turn her\nsteps with her troop of sturdy urchins, and, work in hand, knitting,\nknitting, all the way. But they were always careful to return before\ndark; for such fearful tales had been told, principally of a tall\nwoman in white who always vanished in the direction of Golden Hill\n(now John Street), that no one cared to make her acquaintance.\n\nLong years after this, when the palisades marking the extent of the\ncity had been removed as far north as what is now Warren Street, and a\nfield of barley flourished on the Heerewegh (now Broadway), somewhat\nabout the present City Hall, we again hear of the same apparition. The\nRev. John Kimball, passing along the little stream rather late at\nnight, heard steps, and, looking behind him, saw the spectre; of\ncourse he fled. Doubtless she was the bearer of some important message\nfrom the spirit-land which she was anxious to communicate, but, as no\none ever stopped to listen, what it was can now never be known.\n\nMr. Watson, in his _Annals of New York_, relates a story given by a\nmilitary gentleman of his own encounter with an apparition in that\nsame place. The captain declares, and doubtless believed, that he\nbravely attacked it, and discovered only a mischievous mortal in\ndisguise; but it is hardly probable that any mortal in his senses\nwould be personating a ghost at midnight on haunted ground, so that\nthe tale, being rather one-sided evidence, is doubtful.\n\nAnother solitary place was Windmill Lane,[71] which led from Broadway\nbetween Cortlandt and Liberty Streets down quite a steep hill, in a\nnorthwest direction, to the river edge, where stood a windmill. There\nwas a time when this lane was the most northern street in the\nsettlement; then house after house began to be built around the old\nmill, and the city crept up gradually in that direction. Among those\nwho made their homes there was a French lady, Madame Blonspeaux, who\nhad crossed the ocean to teach the rising generation all she\nknew--French and embroidery. Two paths led to her establishment, one\nthrough the Lane, the other through a wheatfield, where now is St.\nPaul\u2019s church, and both were beset with spectres. Alas for the scholar\nkept in after the others were dismissed! Lightly did the offended\nmajesty of madame weigh in the balance compared to what might possibly\nbeleague the path homeward. There was a legend of a tall Indian who\nwas always digging about for his bow and arrows, and a little short\nDutchman about a foot high in breeches and cocked hat, who, the moment\nhe found them, sprang into sight from somewhere and kicked the dirt       265\nover them, and the Indian began his search again![72]\n\nBut the section of country most famous for spectral manifestations was\nthe region about the Kaatskill Mountains. Darkly wooded glens, and\nlonely streams, and deep ravines offered the most ample facilities for\nall kinds of signs and wonders. Indeed, the Dutch settlers that dwelt\nin that by-place of existence, on the little cleared spots that here\nand there dotted the landscape, were so quiet and orderly, so far\nremoved from the commotions that agitated the river colonies, no\nwonder ethereal beings found their companionship most congenial. These\nsettlers had removed thither originally from the neighborhood of Fort\nOrange, and principally, nay, I may say solely, in disgust at the\ngeneral uproar and discomfort which invested everything in proximity\nto that fort, under the joint dominion of the Patroon of\nRensselaerwyck (or his agent), who resided there, and Director-General\nPetrus Stuyvesant, who fulminated his bulls from the south end of the\nHudson; the contemporary edicts of the rival parties being always\ndiametrically opposed to each other.\n\nThe truth is that, from the moment Director Stuyvesant landed at\nManhattan, appointed there by the States-General of the United\nNetherlands, he had carried matters with such a high hand that\neverything succumbed before him. The boldest spirits bent to his rule,\nand (to continue the metaphor) he walked over them. His word was law\nwithout reason or explanation. He had even been known to shorten a\ntroublesome state audience by tearing up the documents and dismissing\nthe deputation.\n\nThus ruled the governor at Manhattan; but when Brant Arent Van\nSlechtenhorst was sent over from Holland as agent for the heir of the\nlast patroon--Johannes Van Rensselaer, a minor--Petrus Stuyvesant met\nhis match. Commander Slechtenhorst was in popular estimation \u201ca person\nof stubborn and headstrong temper.\u201d[73]\n\nWhen Stuyvesant directed Carl von Brugge to quarry stone and cut wood\nfor repairs on Fort Orange, nearly destroyed by a freshet, Brant dared\nthe deputy to touch stone or stick at his peril, either for\nfortification or firewood; for the trees, root and branch, all\nbelonged to his employer the patroon! He further forbade any of the\ninhabitants to aid them with horses, etc., while at the same time he\nwas building a house himself not a pistol-shot from the fort. The news\nbeing carried to Manhattan, the director sent some soldiers to\ndemolish the offending house now being built, and arrest the offender.\nThis was more easily ordered than accomplished, so the soldiers held a\nparley with him, and were cautioned, among other bits of good advice,\nto take warning by one Jacob Jansen, who had not long before cut two\nfir-trees--eight days after he was seized with his plunder on the\nriver by the patroon\u2019s officer, and duly punished! with the stunning\npoint to the climax: \u201cCan\u2019t he do so now?\u201d All this being duly\nreported to the great director at Manhattan, it was deemed best to\nseek supplies beyond the domain of Rensselaerwyck, \u201cstones from the\nmountains, rocks, and plains--timber from anywhere within the limits\nof New Netherlands--to have a wagon made, and take the horses of Jonas\nBronck, who was in debt to the company,\u201d and whose opinions on the        266\nsubject were of course of no consequence. As for pulling down the\nhouse recently erected, Herr Van Slechtenhorst pointed to the fact\nthat Fort Orange stood on the very soil of his employer, and that it\nwas his intention at some leisure day to annihilate it. So went\nmatters, until at last, when Stuyvesant ordered a solemn fast, and Van\nSlechtenhorst absolved all in his latitude from obedience, human\npatience could stand it no longer, and the insulted autocrat rushed to\nAlbany in the swiftest sailing sloop that could be found; there, as\nhas been said, to meet his match.\n\nBut our business is not with these belligerents, but with those\npeacefully disposed burghers, who had grown tired more and more, year\nafter year, with this turmoil, which seemed now to have reached its\nheight. Armed soldiers were in their midst (for seven had been sent up\nfrom Manhattan), and when the talk was of razing houses, why, even the\nneighboring Indians came crowding in to ask what the _Swannekins_ were\nabout.\n\nHappily another home opened to them, and very many packed up all their\nworldly goods and migrated. This home was the region about the\nKaatskill. One part of the mission of Herr Van Slechtenhorst when sent\nover the ocean was \u201cto acquire by purchase the lands around Kaatskill\nfor the greater security of the colonie, as they were forming\ncompanies to remove thither.\u201d[74]\n\nOn the land thus obtained, they had nothing to fear from Indian\nopposition, and the kind of domestic life they coveted is pictured in\na lease yet extant in the Van Rensselaer family, dated 1651, wherein\nthe tenant binds himself to \u201cread a sermon or portion of Scripture\nevery Sunday and festival to the neighboring Christians, and to sing\nhymns before and after prayer, after the custom of the Church of\nHolland.\u201d Years in that little nook of creation brought few great\nchanges; their habitations had come to be grouped together somewhat\ntown fashion, and were dignified by a name much too long, and\nunpronounceable except by a Dutch tongue, but well loved because\ntraceable to Holland; and there life after life passed away like great\nwaves in a stream--one disappears and another takes its place.\n\nSuch were the mortal inhabitants of the place; but the invisible\nportion of the community--their name was Legion! It seemed the very\nplace of refuge for all sorts of bodiless personages who had been\ninsulted and expelled from other places; indeed, if a census had been\ntaken, according to the old wives\u2019 stories, their aggregate numbers\nwould have made up near half the population of the village.\n\nIn one portion of the spot which might truly have been called the\nsupernatural reservation was a deep ravine, which bore traces of\nhaving once been the bed of a mountain stream. At this period (some\ntime before the old French war), its sole inhabitants were a morose,\nill-looking woodman and his aged mother, and their dwelling-place was\na miserable hut perched on rocks, and so hidden by gnarled and twisted\ntrees and a dense undergrowth of shrubs as to be almost invisible to\nany but its occupants. Why they established themselves in that\nuninviting place, or what were the events of their lives previous to\ntheir appearance there, their unintelligible English failed to\ncommunicate, nor was there aught in the sullen taciturnity of both of\nthem in the presence of a stranger, or in the loud and fearful            267\nbickerings heard ofttimes in their hovel by the passer-by, that\ncreated a desire to fathom the mystery. When the news arrived that\nFrench and English had met, the outcasts in the glen, strange to say\nwere the only ones in the settlement whose fortunes seemed in any way\nto be affected by it. Their disputes were heard louder and more\nfrequent than ever before, to end, alas! in a tragedy. The man, tired\nperhaps of his monotonous existence, and hoping also to better his\nfortunes, was desirous of joining the ranks of war, yet, feeling at\nthe same time the necessity of his support to his old mother, he\nstrove to wring from her a consent to his departure. It was sought in\nvain. The aged woman, to her consciousness of utter helplessness,\nadded doubtless a natural desire for his safety, and consent was\nwithheld. Opposition goaded him, and in a moment of passion he struck\nher lifeless to the ground.\n\nThe miserable parricide fled, and the hut fell in ruins. Time passed\non, the war was ended, and peace restored.\n\nAnd now, when the tragedy of the glen had grown to be an old story,\nonly told by a winter evening\u2019s fire, it began to be whispered--and it\nfairly petrified the senses of every hearer--that Dark Rob, as he was\ncalled, or his spectre, had returned to his old abode!\n\nNo one cared to investigate the matter very closely. A light was\ncertainly seen flickering in the ruined hovel, and a phantom-like\nthing in human shape glided about the spot. No mortal would choose to\nremain there alone, so it must be the shade of Dark Rob, on the\ntheatre of his unnatural crime!\n\nMany an evil deed was related of him in this, his second sojourn in the\nhut; but one of the most evil, because passing all comprehension, was\nthe strange influence he contrived to acquire by ways unknown over a\nsturdy farmer named Jansen Van Dorp. How they first met was perfectly\ninexplicable; for goblin Rob had never been visible in any of the\nordinary paths of the settlement, and, although Jans was one of the\nvery few who laughed to scorn the idea of a ghost, he would scarcely\nventure in his sober senses to penetrate the dark shadows of the\nhaunted hovel uninvited. In whatever way it happened, events proved\ntheir close intimacy; his steps were watched, and traced night after\nnight to the hut, where they held their unholy orgies.\n\nAs a matter of course, the worldly affairs of Jans Van Dorp became\ndisjointed things. His vrow had always borne a close resemblance to\nthe helpmate of Socrates, and it is not to be supposed that such\ndoings on the part of her truant spouse added to her sweetness of\ntemper.\n\nThe most irritating part was the sudden taciturn spirit which seemed\nto possess the mynheer. Taunts, sneers, questions, reproaches, all\nwere in vain! This was both new and alarming, because on no previous\noccasion had he ever been backward in contributing his share to the\nBabel din of their wordy skirmishes. It confirmed, alas! her worst\nsuspicions, namely, that he was in toils and snares beyond all mortal\npower of extrication.\n\nGreat light was thrown on the affair by a shrewd neighbor, Effie\nDemson, who, having migrated to America from the Highlands of Scotland\n(and by some odd chance wandered down to the Kaatskill), was allowed\nto be especially versed in hobgoblin ethics. She affirmed that she had\noften heard from reliable authority that, whenever a mortal is admitted   268\nto the society of spirits, an oath of secrecy is imposed under a\npenalty few would care to brave. She cited the cases of several\nimprudent individuals who, having violated this compact, suffered\nfearful consequences. One was Alice Pearson, of Byrehill, somewhere\nabout 1588. Having been introduced to the invisible world by a friend,\nand joined them in \u201cpiping, mirth, and good cheer\u201d (to use her own\nwords), she was warned that, if she ever related what she had seen,\n\u201cshe should be martyred.\u201d One day, when she began to speak of these\nthings, an unseen blow took away her breath and left an ugly mark on\nher side; heedless of the warning, Alice continued her revelations\nuntil she was burned as a witch, thus fulfilling her doom.[75] Every\none in the Highlands knew, too, the terrible visitation that had\nlighted on one kirk for having pried into secrets merely to publish\nthem. Every one knew that he was a mere wandering gypsy in the\nuniverse, and would be to the end of time.\n\nEffie generally concluded her oracles with the remnant of an old song,\nwritten about fairies particularly, but equally applicable to any\nunearthlies. It was called\n\n                        \u201c_God a Mercy Will_.\n\n     \u201cTo be sung or whistled to the tune of _Meadow Brow_ by the\n     learned; by the unlearned, to the tune of _Fortune_.\n\n                  \u201cA tell-tale in their companie\n                     They never could endure,\n                   But whoso kept not secrecy\n                     Their deed was punished sure.\n                   It was a just and Christian deed\n                     To pinch such black and blue.\u201d\n                   Etc., etc., etc.\n                                             _Poetica Stromata._\n\nAs this bore the antique date of 1648, and was written by Corbet,\nBishop of Norwich, it was considered good authority for anything.\n\nThis, then, explained the unusual silence of Jans Van Dorp, and it\nalso half-reconciled his gude vrow to endure her unsatisfied\ncuriosity. To wonder and to be afflicted night after night by his\ntruant absence was bad enough, but to have seen him vanish in blue\nsmoke would have been worse.\n\nThings were passing thus in that sequestered little spot, while the\ngreat world without was agitated with mightier events--the opening\nscenes of the Revolutionary war. It is doubtful whether the faint\nrumors of it which penetrated the seclusion there would have excited\nthe least attention, except for the fact that it was the only earthly\ntopic on which Jans Van Dorp nowadays manifested the least interest.\nEvery Dutch villager, whose business led him to the great cities, was\nquestioned and cross-questioned on his return as to the precise state\nof things, with a minuteness which would have done honor to that\nrenowned lawyer Heer Adrian Van der Donck, the first who landed in the\nNew Netherlands. The one little gray newspaper that arrived weekly,\nand had hitherto circulated among his neighbors until it was quite\nillegible, was now packed immediately in his great-coat pocket and\ntaken to his ghostly partner. All this was a perfect labyrinth of\nmystery, and furnished texts for many a sage conjecture and dubious\nshake of the head. Some hinted that Jans Van Dorp might mean to put in\nexecution the threat he had been so often heard to hurl at his\nirritating helpmate when her vexatious volubility exceeded all bounds\nof endurance--that he\u2019d be off to some war. But time puts an end to\nall things, although it does not always explain things to universal\nsatisfaction. What Jans or the goblin thought or meant can never be       269\nfathomed, but some things are matters of history; and it is a\ntestified fact that the very moment this little dingy newspaper\nbrought tidings that the first cannons of battle had boomed, Jansen\nVan Dorp started as if his doom was somehow connected with it. It was\na night, dark and stormy, but he seized his hat, and rushed from the\ncheerful glow of his own home to the pitchy darkness without, and they\nwhispered he was bound to the haunted hovel! Too probable, for from\nthat hour neither Jans nor spectre was ever seen there more.\n\nIt should rather be said, never seen as mortal _could_ be seen, for by\nmany he was still considered an inhabitant of the settlement, although\nlost for ever to his hapless vrow. He had visited her in dreams, and\nwarned her of something she could not exactly remember, but very\nterrible, and given on these occasions such diverse accounts of\nhimself, it was hard to tell what to believe. To Effie he had\nfrequently presented himself. She had seen him in the coffee dregs, in\nleaves at the bottom of her tea-cup, in a mirror which she had cut\ntriangular for that express purpose, and, finally, in a tremendous\nthunder-storm, standing close beside her.\n\nAs he gave no sign on these occasions, her charitable conclusion was\nthat he had nothing very good to relate of himself.\n\nMany months after this, one of the most intelligent mynheers of the\nsettlement, having been called by business to a far eastern city,\ndeclared on his return that, among a troop of soldiers marching to the\nfrontiers, he had recognized Jans Van Dorp and Dark Rob; but, as he\nfailed in speaking to them, his assertion passed for nothing, and his\nstory was dismissed as mere moonshine, too absurd to be believed.\n\n\n     [68] O\u2019Callaghan. _Hist. New Neths._, vol. i. p. 37.\n\n     [69] _Ibid._ vol. i. ch. 2.\n\n     [70] O\u2019Callaghan, _Hist._ vol. i. bk. iii. ch. 2.\n\n     [71] Watson\u2019s _Annals of New York_.\n\n     [72] The writer of this possesses two pieces of\n     embroidery done by one of madame\u2019s pupils.\n\n     [73] O\u2019Callaghan, _Hist._, vol. ii. p. 72.\n\n     [74] O\u2019Callaghan, _Hist._, vol. ii. ch. iv.\n\n     [75] _Trials from the Criminal Records of\n     Scotland._ By R. Pitcairn, Esq.\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n   THE RELIGIOUS MOVEMENT IN GERMANY, AND THE _FRACTION DU CENTRE_\n                     IN THE GERMAN PARLIAMENT.\n\n                TRANSLATED FROM THE REVUE GENERALE.\n\n\nAn apathetic calm generally succeeds to political agitation at the\nclose of legislative sessions. An exception to this rule prevails in\nthe German Empire, inasmuch as the attacks against the _Fraction du\nCentre_, which began during the session, increased to an\nactual storm at the close of the diet. Most of the foreign journals\nhave spoken of this phenomenon, but in so unsatisfactory a manner that\nperhaps a more minute account of the movement will not be displeasing\nto the readers of the _Revue G\u00e9n\u00e9rale_.\n\nI have already indicated in a general way, in an account of the\nparties in the German Parliament, the attitude and tendency of the\nCatholic party, or the so-called _Fraction du Centre_.\n\nThe bases upon which it is founded are as follows:\n\n\u201c_Justitia fundamentum regnorum._ The _Fraction au Centre_ in the         270\nGerman Parliament limits its activity by the following principles:\n\n\u201cI. The fundamental characteristics of the empire as a confederation\n(_Bundesstaat_) shall be maintained. Conformably to this principle,\nall efforts shall be opposed that tend to modify the federal character\nof the constitution of the empire, and the spontaneity and\nindependence of the several states in their interior affairs shall\nonly be sacrificed when the general interests evidently require it.\n\n\u201cII. The material and moral welfare of the popular classes shall be\nurgently insisted upon. The civil and religious liberty of all the\nsubjects of the empire shall be secured by means of constitutional\nguarantees, and religious associations, in particular, shall be\nprotected against legislative encroachments.\n\n\u201cIII. The _Fraction_ weighs and forms resolutions in accordance with\nthese principles, upon all questions submitted to the deliberation of\nthe parliament, but without forbidding isolated members to vote in the\nassembly contrary to the decisions of the _Fraction_.\u201d\n\nThe _Fraction_ remained faithful to these principles during the\nsession of the parliament that has just closed. It avoided all extreme\nviews, and manifested no systematic hostility to the government.\nNevertheless, the very fact that it is composed of Catholics firmly\nresolved to defend the rights and liberties of the church against\nall attacks, and that these Catholics were elected from the\nmost prosperous and intelligent sections of Germany, where\npseudo-liberalism thought its rule immovably established, sufficed to\nexcite against the _Fraction_ a coalition of all who were opposed to\nthe church. Their invectives began with the debates on the address.\nThe form of address proposed by the national liberal party contained,\nbesides some expressions in praise of the historic views of the\nadversaries of the Papacy, the following sentence: \u201cThe days of\ninterference with the national affairs of other kingdoms will, we\ntrust, never return under any pretext or under any form.\u201d This\nsentence, destructive of all national rights, was evidently aimed\nagainst Rome, as was partly acknowledged: the Italian revolution was\nnot to be checked by diplomatic representations in the accomplishment\nof its designs against the visible head of the church. Naturally, it\nwould not have occurred to any one to impose absolute passiveness on\nthe powerful German Empire in its relations with neighboring states.\nThe party of the _Centre_ drew up a counter-schedule, which did not\ncontain the proposition of absolute non-intervention we have just\nreferred to, but which was nevertheless in conformity with the address\nof the liberals. This counter-schedule did not demand, either directly\nor indirectly, any intervention in favor of the Pope: it contained\nnothing that clashed either with the government or the other parties,\nand consequently was not the object of criticism in any quarter. So\ntrue is this, that the _Allgemeine Zeitung_ of Augsburg, the chief\norgan of anti-religious liberalism, could not disguise its preference\nfor the schedule of the _Centre_ as to its substance as well as form.\nNevertheless, though the _Centre_ remained wholly on the defensive,\nand its orators exhibited the greatest moderation, a real storm of\ninvectives was raised against them and the church by the journalists\nof all the other parties and by the parliament. Even the so-called\nconservatives took sides against the _Centre_, whose motion, thanks to\nthese outcries, only obtained sixty votes. A proposition made shortly     271\nafter by the _Centre_ in the interests of civil liberty met the same\nfate. This proposition had for its object the admission of several\nprinciples into the constitution of the German Empire which had been\nsanctioned by the Prussian constitution. As these principles\nguaranteed the independence of the church--the Evangelical as well as\nthe Catholic (Art. 15, Pruss. const.)--the proposition was opposed\nwith extreme bitterness, even by a large majority of the Catholic\ndeputies who did not belong to the _Fraction du Centre_. Among these\nwas Count de Frankenberg, of Silesia. This noble member had given his\nelectors a written promise to vote in accordance with the proposition\nof the _Fraction du Centre_. But in the speech he made against it, he\ndeclared that he did not consider the time chosen by the _Fraction_ as\nopportune. In his ignorance of judicial things, he probably is not\nfamiliar with the adage: _Quod sine die debetur, statim debetur_.\n\nThe _Fraction du Centre_ made no other independent motions during the\nsession that could incur any attacks. But the \u201cclerical party\u201d was\nattacked the more vehemently at the elections, so the _Centre_ found\nitself still exposed to a cross fire. The whole affair has been\nrelated in the journals. We will confine ourselves to an incident that\ngives a tolerably correct idea of the majority.\n\nBefore the election of Dr. Sch\u00fcttinger, nominated from the district of\nBamberg, and belonging to the _Fraction du Centre_, the curate of a\nsmall town within that district announced from the pulpit, after\ndivine service, that those of his parishioners who had confidence in\nhim could assemble at his house after church to learn which candidate\nwas preferable, according to his opinion. This invitation appeared to\nthe majority an intolerable infringement on electoral liberty as well\nas an abuse of the pulpit, and the election of Dr. Sch\u00fcttinger was\nannulled. A new ballot gave the same candidate a thousand more votes\nthan at first. At the next session, the validity of this re-election\nwill be submitted to the decision of the parliament, and the question\narises if the majority will be fully satisfied respecting the\nelectoral liberty of the district of Bamberg. But the Belgian\nCatholics know by long experience what their adversaries mean by\nelectoral man\u0153uvres.\n\nIn all the occurrences we have referred to, the government showed\nitself entirely passive, so there was no real conflict between it and\nthe party of the _Centre_. When the debate took place respecting\nAlsace-Lorraine, our party proposed to ensure to those provinces the\nmost independent existence possible, and a separate constitution.\nPrince Bismarck did not exactly agree with this, but his opinions\ncoincided far oftener with those of the deputies Windthorst and\nReichensperger than with those of the leaders of the other parties. On\nthe whole, no instance can be mentioned in which the _Fraction du\nCentre_ is in flagrant hostility to that powerful statesman. It even\nopenly opposed an interpellation respecting the Roman question, in\norder not to excite any irritating debates and appear suspicious of\nthe good intentions of the emperor and chancellor. In spite of this,\nit was reported during the session that the _Fraction du Centre_ had\nincurred the disapprobation of the chancellor of the empire. The\n_Deutsche Reichscorrespondenz_, the organ of the so-called liberal\nconservatives, gave some foundation to this report by pretending that\nthe Count de Tauffkirchen had, according to the instructions of Prince\nBismarck, accused the _Fraction du Centre_ to Cardinal Antonelli of       272\nhaving assumed an attitude hostile to the government of the empire,\nand that the cardinal had expressed his disapproval of this attitude\nnot only before the Count de Tauffkirchen, but in a letter addressed\nto the leaders of the _Fraction_. This assertion being repeated in\nseveral quarters, the said leaders denied it in the journals. Driven\nto the wall, the _Deutsche Reichscorrespondenz_ then brought up the\ncase of the Count de Frankenberg already mentioned, and at last Prince\nBismarck himself declared the blame really proceeded from Cardinal\nAntonelli. This induced the Bishop of Mayence to ascertain the correct\naccount of the matter from the cardinal. His eminence replied that it\nhad been incorrectly reported to him that the _Fraction du Centre_ had\ninsisted upon the Emperor of Germany\u2019s intervention in favor of the\nPope, and that, under the existing circumstances, he had declared such\na step inopportune. At the same time, the cardinal assured the Bishop\nof Mayence and his friends that he had a particular esteem for the\nmembers of the _Fraction du Centre_ and its proclivities. Thus failed\nthe effort made at the court of Rome to bring discredit on the _Fraction_\namong Catholics, for at once a great number of Catholics gave in their\nfull adhesion to the _Fraction_, and besought it to persevere\ncourageously. This effort had, moreover, a comic side, for until now\nthe _Fraction_ had been represented as the servile tool of the Roman\ncuria, whence it received its orders on all important questions.\n\nNo general interest would be felt in all these facts, if they were not\nthe clear prelude of an act the consequences of which cannot be\nforeseen. It is not the acts of the _Fraction du Centre_ that provoke\nthe violent attacks against it: it is its very existence that is\nconsidered a crime. Those hostile to the church had calculated,\nwithout distinction of party, that the very first diet of the German\nEmpire would aim a blow at \u201cRomanism\u201d in Germany, on the ruins of\nwhich would afterwards rise a national German church, that might\nfinally end in a cosmopolitan \u201cHumanitarianism,\u201d without dogmas,\nwithout sacraments, and without altars--the very _beau id\u00e9al_ of\nfreemasonry. Everything, in fact, seemed propitious for the\nrealization of this hope. The two principal Catholic nations\nsuccessively conquered, the Roman race suffering from incessant\nconvulsions, the head of the Catholic Church a prisoner at the\nVatican, and, finally, a schism that seemed likely to arise on account\nof the dogma of infallibility--all seemed to form a breach by which it\nwas hoped their opponents would be overcome. Only, as an ancient adage\nsays: \u201cMan proposes, but God disposes!\u201d\n\nThe election of the Prussian deputies and the members of the German\nParliament has already paralyzed the action of these regenerators of\nhumanity, by rousing the Catholics to an energy not easily to be\nsurmounted. The complete union of the representatives elected, and\ntheir bold stand, showed it would be quite useless for the legislative\nassemblies at Berlin to make any serious charge against Catholicism.\nOn the contrary, it was hoped at Berlin that the initiative would be\ntaken by Munich, where \u201cthe Luther of the nineteenth century\u201d had\nraised a standard of revolt against the Roman Pontificate. But Munich\nwas likewise under the influence of illusions. It was supposed that\nMgr. Hefele, the Bishop of Rothenberg, would add the sanction of          273\nepiscopal authority to the influence of the learned Professor\nD\u00f6llinger, and thus sustain his course. It was still more certain that\na great number of the pupils of the theological seminaries would\nrespond to the appeal of D\u00f6llinger and his able adherents. D\u00f6llinger,\nit may be remembered, had publicly declared that thousands of priests\nthought exactly as he did.\n\nBut Bishop Hefele remained faithful to the Pope, and the German clergy\nunanimously declared that D\u00f6llinger\u2019s assertion was a calumny. The\nKing of Bavaria himself, who had given D\u00f6llinger so many proofs of his\nesteem, hesitated a long time about giving him his support, because he\ncould not help seeing that the anti-ecclesiastical movement was\nchiefly led by a political party whose efforts openly tended to\nmediatize the reigning houses of the second and third ranks in order\nto form a united and centralized Germany, in imitation of the empire\nof Napoleon III. These efforts naturally met with the most favorable\nconcurrence on the part of the democrats; for an empire of this kind,\nestablished on a broad and \u201cliberal\u201d basis, would lead, by a sort of\nfatality, to a republic, especially if they first succeeded in doing\naway with the religious and historic traditions.\n\nImmediately after the close of the parliament, a fire was opened at\nBerlin upon the \u201cclericals,\u201d and especially upon the _Fraction du\nCentre_. The official journals did their best to open the way to\n\u201cmodern progress\u201d by removing all the obstacles that might impede it,\nand to increase the diplomatic pressure that had so long been exerting\nits influence on the Bavarian cabinet. The whole German press, with\nthe exception of a dozen journals, naturally joined in the chorus, and\nthen began an attack on the Catholics, the like of which had not been\nwitnessed since the Archbishop of Cologne was sent under guard to the\nfortress of Minden, under the pretext that he had conspired with the\ntwo revolutionary parties against the Prussian government.\n\nThe German Catholics are accustomed to these kinds of accusations,\nwhich have passed through all possible variations. Thus, the Catholics\nof the Rhenish provinces have been successively accused, according to\nthe circumstances of the moment, of plotting with France, Belgium,\nBavaria, and Austria, against Prussia, and of considering the Pope as\ntheir legitimate sovereign. Foreigners can hardly credit what I am\nobliged to relate here, and, if they should, it would excite their\nrisibility. Unfortunately, these absurdities have a serious side for\nthe Prussian Catholics. Independently of the circumstance that these\nperfidious calumnies, systematically repeated, might pervert public\nopinion in those sections of Germany where Protestantism prevails,\nthey serve as a pretext for practically refusing Catholics the open\nequality which they should share with the adherents of other\nreligions. For example, all the higher offices of influence are, with\nvery rare exceptions, filled by Protestants, who, as a matter of\ncourse, specially favor the interests of their co-religionists in\nevery way, and, so to speak, are obliged to do so, because genuine\nCatholics are officially designated as unpatriotic. An exact list of\nthe functionaries of the German communes and government, drawn up with\nreference to the religion of each one, would be a valuable statistic,\nbecause it would incontestably establish how far the principle of\n_suum cuique_, which constitutionally recognizes the equality of\nChristian sects, is really applied. It is evident that such a report      274\nwill never be published or drawn up by the authorities, consequently\nthe formation of a private agency to effect such an object is an\nurgent necessity. Perhaps this report might at last put an end to the\nconstantly repeated accusations of the base ingratitude of Catholics\nagainst the Prussian government. The clear judgment of Frederick\nWilliam IV., and the constitutions that sprang from the events of\n1848, guaranteed a liberty of action to the Catholic Church and its\norgans which had not existed in any German state since the peace of\nWestphalia. The Prussian Catholics displayed a lively gratitude for\nthis, and flattered themselves with the hope that several crying\ninjustices which weighed on them would be removed, especially in the\nconferring of public offices and the nomination of professors at the\nuniversities. This hope was then the more reasonable, because, in the\nwar against France, Catholics, as well as Protestants, shed their\nblood on the battle-fields, and submitted to the heaviest\nrequisitions. The religious orders particularly signalized themselves\nby their services, as the recently published report of the Knights of\nMalta (Catholics) prove. Unfortunately, this hope has already given\nplace to serious preoccupation.\n\nPrince Bismarck appears no longer able to endure repose. Having\nvanquished our foreign enemies, he seems to aim, unless all\nappearances deceive us, at making adversaries of the Catholics of\nGermany and causing them to feel the weight of his hand. Perhaps he is\ninfluenced by the consideration that military unity, to be on a solid\nbasis, should be founded on, or crowned by, political and religious\nunity. At all events, this is the opinion of the liberal party, whose\ncourse involuntarily recalls the expression of Tacitus, \u201c_Ruere in\nservitium_;\u201d whereas, while M. de Bismarck was rising to power, they\nabused him beyond all bounds. These worshippers of success have for\nallies the Catholics who are not willing to submit to the decrees of\nthe Council of the Vatican. In the jargon of the liberals, these\nNeo-Protestants are designated as old Catholics, while the immense\nmajority of Catholics who now, as formerly, consider the authority of\nthe Pope and bishops in religious things as higher than that of\ncertain professors, are styled Neo-Catholics, absolutely as if they\nhad abandoned the faith of the church. A foreigner would find it\ndifficult to understand how it is possible to give a completely\nopposite meaning to the real signification of a word, and this in a\ncountry like Germany, which prides itself on its intelligence.\n\nBut it is not the anti-religious journals alone that take this\nliberty. M. de M\u00fchler himself, the Prussian minister of the public\nworship, treats the Catholics, who remain faithful to the decrees of\nthe Pope and bishops as rebels to the government. Immediately after\nthe suspension of the council, he took under his protection the\nprofessors, even those who were priests, who refused to submit to the\ndecisions of the council and the bishops, and encouraged them in their\nrevolt against ecclesiastical authority. Recently, _\u00e0 propos_ of the\naffair of the Bishop of Ermland, he went so far as to submit to the\nministry of Prussia, composed exclusively of Protestants, a resolution\nto ascertain what Catholics should be considered as orthodox, and he\nordered a priest named Wollmann, who had been excluded from the fold\nof the church by major excommunication, to retain his professorship as\nreligious instructor in the Catholic college of Braunsberg. The\nstudents, unwilling to receive religious instruction from a fallen\npriest, left the college. They were thus obliged to give up most of       275\ntheir studies, as there is no other establishment of the kind at\nBraunsberg. It should also be remarked that the College of Braunsberg\nwas founded by a bishop and sustained by Catholic foundations. In\nSilesia, another priest named Kaminski, likewise excommunicated, was\nappointed to a church that he might celebrate the divine service for\nthose who protested against the Council of the Vatican. In a word,\nevery where there is any reason, or even a pretext, the episcopal\nauthority is sacrificed to those who refuse them the obedience\nsolemnly sworn to them, or become unfaithful to the church by calling\nthe episcopal crosier the _b\u00e2ton_ of a police officer. On all\nsides were declarations, more and more threatening, that an end must\nbe made of \u201cRomanism,\u201d that German science should take the place of\nidolatrous papistry, and the echo of this cry is to be found in the\npapers that seek their inspiration from the ministerial bureaux.\n\nBut in spite of the great power of the Prussian government, the\ncentralists, to their severe mortification, were doubtful about\nsucceeding in fully organizing a persecution against the Catholics\nunless the other German governments, or at least the most important of\nthem, declare war against the church. The W\u00fcrtemberg government was so\nwise as to declare from the first that it would ignore the decisions\nof the Council of the Vatican as long as no one was influenced by it\nagainst the laws and constitution of the kingdom. As this evidently\nwould never be the case, the W\u00fcrtemberg ministry, if the national\nliberals who have just begun an outcry in the assembly of\nrepresentations at Stuttgart do not impose a different policy on them,\nwill consequently remain strictly passive with respect to the church,\nas is the case in Belgium, Holland, England, the United States, and\nevery country where genuine liberty prevails. The statesmen who govern\nthose countries do not allow their slumbers to be disturbed by the\ndecrees of the Council of the Vatican, and deem it beneath their\ndignity to regard them as a pretext to form a kind of C\u00e6saro-papism.\n\nAs we have remarked, the course of the Bavarian government in the\nulterior development of this agitation, will be of great importance.\nThe pressure brought to bear on that government by Prussia and all the\nparties inimical to the church has led to the retirement of Count\nBray, whose devotedness to the church is well-known. Nevertheless, the\nking has not fully decided to create, by an open rupture with the\nreligious authorities, unforeseen complications in his kingdom,\nalready so shaken, and to recompense by moral violence the fidelity of\nthose of his subjects who have shown themselves the most devoted\npartisans of the dynasty of Wittelsbach. This question, so painful for\nthe majority of Bavarians, will be doubtless decided before this\narticle is published.\n\nHaving given a general outline of the present state of affairs, I am\nled to ask myself what, before the end of the year, will be the stand\nof the Catholic representatives who are still faithful to the church\nin the legislative assemblies of Prussia and the German empire. The\nreports of those deputies to their electors appear to me adapted to\nstrengthen them in their resolution to continue to struggle\ncourageously against the supremacy of the state as well as against\nrevolutionary absolution, and to remain defenders of the church and of\nall constitutional rights against the false apostles of liberty and an\narbitrary ministry. At all events, I imagine these deputies will smile    276\nwith pity when they hear themselves styled unpatriotic by some parties\nin imitation of a part of the journals hostile to the church, or even\naccused of conspiring with foreigners or the _Internationale_. Some\npapers, in fact, have not shrunk from the ridicule attached to such\nfoolish accusations. Does not this having to resort to such\nimputations prove the want of any serious charge against the members\nof the _Centre_? They are evidently not credited by those who make use\nof them, nor is any attempt made to convince others of their truth.\n\nThe members of the _Fraction du Centre_ figure, for the most part,\namong the notabilities of their districts. Many of them have occupied\nor occupy some public office with honor: and several have, for many\nyears, showed their constant zeal in the old Prussian house of\nlegislation, where they had a seat, and gave their devoted support to\nthe government in the crisis of the year 1848 and the following year,\noften at the expense of their popularity. They were often known to\ndefend the authorities against the attacks of those who are now\nendeavoring to excite the government against them.\n\nIn support of what I have just stated, it is sufficient to recall the\nnames of those whom the confidence of their colleagues chose as a\ncommittee of the _Fraction du Centre_ in the German parliament\nand the Prussian house of representatives. I will mention M. de\nSavigny, the son of the illustrious jurisconsult so well-known\nthroughout the whole world, who was formerly Prussian minister at\nBrussels, and latterly the representative of the King of Prussia at\nthe Diet of Frankfort; M. Windthorst, who was president of the house\nof representatives in Hanover, and twice minister of justice in that\nkingdom; the Baron d\u2019Ar\u00e9tin, the vice-president of the upper house in\nthe kingdom of Bavaria; M. de Mallinkrodt, the counsellor of the\nPrussian regency; the Prince de Loewenstein; the Count de\nLandsberg-Velen, a hereditary member of the Prussian house of lords,\netc. Perhaps I may be permitted to mention also my brother, a\ncounsellor of the Prussian Court of Cassation, who was one of the most\nactive leaders of the conservative party when the government was the\nobject of the most violent attacks.[76]\n\nHe who consecrates his time and strength to the cause of justice and\nreligious liberty, or uses them in the arena of political combat,\nshould not expect to reap any gratitude, but the leaders of the\n_Centre_ and their friends could not foresee that they would be\nexposed to the calumnies I have alluded to. The only appreciable\ngrievance uttered against the Hanoverian and Bavarian members of their\n_Fraction_ is, that the former disapproved of the annexation of their\ncountry to Prussia, and the latter used its influence to prevent\nBavaria from joining the new German Empire. But these deputies have\nstated publicly that, these measures having been decided by vote, they\nwere ready not only to fall in with the new order of things, but to\nendeavor to strengthen it, which cannot be the case if the national\nliberal party is not opposed, the evident tendency of which is not of a\nnature to fortify the constitution of the empire, being directed          277\nagainst the federative principle, which is the fundamental\ncharacteristic of this constitution. No one has a right to suspect the\nstatements and character of these men who merit the esteem of all\nhonorable people for having defended in a purely conservative sense,\nand by all legal means, the traditions of their ancestors, to which\nthey remain faithful, and which they wish to maintain as long as their\nduty evidently requires it.\n\nTo the _Fraction du Centre_ in the German Parliament belongs also M.\nKraetzig, the leader of the Catholic department of the ministry of\npublic worship, which has just been dissolved. This division, composed\nof three counsellors belonging to the Catholic faith, was organized by\nFrederick William IV. with the benevolent intention of giving the\nCatholics of Prussia a sort of guarantee for the suitable\nadministration of the funds for public worship: it was not wished that\nsuch matters should be decided by a Protestant government without at\nleast listening to the advice of the Catholic functionaries. (The\nleader of the Catholic department of public worship had only a\nconsultative voice.) The existence of this division was a pledge to\nthe Catholics, being an assurance that their religious interests would\nnever fall into hostile or indifferent hands. If we except the Prince\nde Hohenzollern, no Catholic ever had a seat in the ministerial\ncouncil, and especially no Catholic was ever appointed minister of\npublic instruction. The suppression of this division, decreed on the\neighth of last July, is the more serious a symptom that it has been\napplauded by the journals opposed to the church, and with a joy equal\nto that manifested at the measures taken in Alsace against the brothers\ndevoted to instruction and against the Catholic press. The party of\nthe _Centre_ will naturally oppose with all its might the current of\nopinion which these acts prove to exist in the region of power. Its\nvoice, it is true, will be stifled by the majority, but it will not be\nraised the less energetically for liberty and justice, with the hope\nof seeing a better day dawn, and, whatever the event, with the\nconviction of having fulfilled an obligation of conscience not only\ntoward the church, but to the state.\n\nThe hope of soon seeing the clouds disperse that have been\naccumulating of late around Germany in so unexpected a manner is\nfounded on the political prudence, the experience, and the opinions of\nthe Emperor William. It is not possible for this monarch crowned with\nlaurels, after having established peace with foreign powers through\nthe bravery and fidelity of the _whole_ German nation, to authorize\nthe persecution of millions of Germans on account of their faith, and\nconsent to sacrifice the national peace--the peace which is especially\ndue to his royal brother, whose memory is still blessed by Catholics.\nThere is no doubt but the appeals of the Catholic population will be\nheard and listened to, as soon as they reach the foot of the throne.\nThe statesman who, in such an unparalleled manner, has been so highly\nexalted to the very steps of that throne, and whose celebrated name is\ndisplayed, without his consent I am persuaded, on the standard of the\nenemies of the church, cannot be ignorant that, when these troubles\nshall have assumed more formidable proportions, it will be more\ndifficult to overcome moral resistance than to triumph over physical\nobstacles, and that measures of policy will be powerless against the\nformer. He will hardly consider it chivalric; with all the enormous       278\nmaterial resources of the state at his disposal, to enter into a\ncombat against people who can and will only oppose him passively, as\nis suitable in the defence of a cause which represents the most\npowerful interests of humanity.\n\nBut perhaps all these hopes are illusory; perhaps we are about to see\nin our Fatherland the beginning of a sad and fruitless struggle, such\nas has so exhausted the strength of other countries by giving a free\ncourse to the most dangerous passions. In this case the Catholics of\nGermany should prepare themselves to endure a long succession of\ncontradictions, for their moral courage will be severely tried. They\nwill have to make sacrifices of all kinds for their faith, recalling\nthe precept of the Gospel that commands us not only to render to C\u00e6sar\nthe things that are C\u00e6sar\u2019s, but also to God the things that are\nGod\u2019s, whatever may happen, whatever may be the consequence of such a\nstruggle, the church of God, which has always been victorious through\npatience, will never yield either under assaults of unbelief or the\nattacks of a false science, that in its pride seems to declare anew:\n_Eritis sicut Deus_. Truth is great, and it will prevail: _Magna est\nveritas et pr\u00e6valebit_.\n\n                                                   A. REICHENSPERGER.\nCOLOGNE, Aug., 1871.\n\n\n     [76] The modesty of the eminent author of this\n     article did not permit him to mention his own name among the\n     most illustrious members of the _Fraction du Centre_. It\n     would be ungrateful not to supply this omission by adding to\n     the valiant champions enumerated above the man whose\n     multiplied labors, marked by his superior intelligence and\n     ardor of feeling, are at once an honor to Germany and the\n     church.--(_Note of the Editor._)\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n                           THE MOUNTAIN.\n\n\n              The mountain\u2019s sides are green anear,\n                In clouds is lost its snow;\n              And he who climbs that Alpine height\n                Shall earth and heaven know.\n              Lo! like a temple to the skies,\n              For toil, for prayer, for sacrifice,\n              Its green and snowy heights arise.\n\n              A thousand pilgrims wander up\n                To yonder blue abode,\n              And some are lost, and some are slain,\n                Or robbed upon the road.\n              Far up the holy hermits dwell,\n              And sounds the monastery bell\n              The safe and ancient way to tell.\n\n              And they who mount that highest steep\n                Are tired and sad and poor,\n              But lo! a starry house is there,\n                And angels at the door.\n              Rich joy for poverty and pain\n              They give, that summit to attain:\n              All earth they leave all heaven to gain.\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n                    COLOR--ITS POETRY AND PROSE.                          279\n\n\nThe three primary colors, according to the latest conclusions of\nscience, are _red_, _green_, and _blue_.\n\nOersted, in one of the chapters of his _Soul in Nature_, gives us a\nlittle diagram to show how the _complementary_ and _characteristic_\ncombinations of colors are produced.\n\n[Illustration]\n\nThe colors opposite in the figure complete each other in white, hence\nare called complementary colors--red and green, orange and blue,\nyellow and violet. These are the harmonious colors.\n\nTwo colors, between which there is only one intermediate color,\nconstitute characteristic combinations of color, as Goethe calls\nthem--for instance, red and yellow, yellow and blue, blue and red--and\nare the combinations most common in uniforms.\n\nIn regard to the symbolism of colors, Oersted gives the following\nenumeration:\n\nWhite fitly typifies _innocence_; the purity of snow and summer\nclouds, and all the analogies of nature, suggesting and completing its\nsignificance. Black, which, as the withdrawal of light, denotes loss\nof life-giving power, as in night, and to which is added in the\nstorm-cloud unwonted gloom and desolation, stands appropriately for\nthe color of mourning. Red is the color of love, from the hue of the\nblood, to which is united the idea of the heart, heat, and intensity\nof life. Yellow denotes falsehood, as indicating the deceitfulness of\nthat which shines, also as the color which, when it departs from\npurity, soonest becomes disagreeable. Green symbolizes hope, the green\nof spring in nature giving token of the fruition of summer. \u201cIf we\nconsider also,\u201d says Oersted, \u201cthe satisfaction with which the eye can\nrest on it, we should call it the color of trust. Blue,\u201d he adds, \u201cis\ncalled the color of fidelity, but since faith, hope, and love are so\nfrequently named together, and the two last each has its symbolical\ncolor, we might assume that one of the colors belonged to this noble\nquality. It is evident that blue, since it indicates distance, vacuity\nfrom matter, therefore the immaterial is suitable as a symbol of\nfaith. It is the color of the sky also, and this leads us away from\nthe earthly. Then the repose in blue, and the feeling that of all\ncolors it is the least splendid, with the exception of violet, which,\nwhen unmingled with red, really the violet of light, is so feeble, and\nhas in it so little power, that it is not much considered. Goethe says\nthat blue is a \u2018_stimulating negation_.\u2019 We learn from natural science\nthat blue united with violet is reflected back every time that light\npasses through a less occupied space, namely, a vacuum, hence Goethe\u2019s\nexpression. Violet and blue also indicate darkness, since they are the\ncolors which have the least light in them, and the pigments which they\nrepresent are easiest converted into black.\n\nFaith, which looks up out of the blackness and shadow of death into       280\nthe full-orbed splendor of the sun of righteousness, may not\ninappropriately take for its symbol the \u201cstimulating negation\u201d of the\npoet.\n\nThus do the three primary colors, blue, green, and red, represent the\ntriad of Christian graces, the primary virtues of the Christian\nlife--faith, hope, and charity, or love.\n\nBut leaving the poetry of color, we come to the subject of its place\nand function as it imprints itself on the myriad forms of the organic\nworld. The question has been asked, Are all these tints of nature in\nthe flower and shrub, the gorgeous plumage of the bird, only meant to\nplease the eye of man and to gratify the artistic sense? Is there a\ndeeper, subtler purpose running through all this apparently wanton\npageantry, aside from the delight which it affords the mind of man,\nand looking only to the perfecting and preservation of the organism\nitself?\n\nA utilitarian age has answered in the affirmative, and the researches\nof Darwin, Wallace, and others are daily opening new vistas into this\ninteresting field of inquiry.\n\nDarwin was the first to establish the fact that the bright coloring of\nflowers is for the purpose of attracting insects in order to\naccomplish their fertilization, and deduces the general rule that all\nflowers fertilized by the wind are of dull and inconspicuous colors.\nIn the animal kingdom the principle of assimilation guides and\nmodifies coloring in conformity with surrounding nature, and it is,\ntherefore, to a great extent, protective.\n\nThe lion inhabiting the desert is of the color of the sands, so as\nhardly to be distinguished at a short distance. The leopard lives in\njungles, and the vertical stripes on its body harmonize admirably with\nthe vertical reeds of its tangled lair, and completely conceal it from\nview.\n\nIn arctic regions, white is the prevailing color, as here reign\nperpetual snows; therefore, it is that the bear is only found\n_white_ in this part of the globe.\n\nThe curious fact that among birds the female is usually of a dull\nneutral tint, while the male monopolizes the bright colors, is\naccounted for on the principle of protective coloring, the female\nneeding the obscurity afforded her by her sober plumage. When there is\nan exception to this rule, the protection is afforded in some other\nway. And this leads us to the subject of _birds\u2019 nests_.\n\nWallace, in a chapter on the theory of birds\u2019 nests, divides them into\ntwo classes, those in which the eggs are protected by the shape or\nposition of the nest, and those in which they are left exposed to\nview. He then gives the following law: \u201cThat, when both sexes are of\nstrikingly gay and conspicuous colors, the nest is of the first class,\nor so as to conceal the sitting bird; while, whenever there is a\nstriking contrast of colors, the male being gay and conspicuous, the\nfemale dull and obscure, the nest is open and the sitting bird exposed\nto view.\u201d\n\nIn connection with the subject of protective coloring, the phenomenon\nof _mimicry_ is not the least curious. Wallace gives several instances\nof butterflies, moths, snakes, etc., where the coloring of protected\nfamilies is imitated by weak and unprotected ones not in any way\nallied to them. A large and bright-colored butterfly, the heliconid\u00e6\nof South America, which is protected by a disagreeable quality\naffecting its taste, thus rendering it secure from insect-eating\nbirds, is imitated by a smaller and eatable family, resembling it so\ncompletely as to be quite indistinguishable by its enemies from the       281\nformer. Thus it is protected and enabled to perpetuate itself by\nborrowing the colors of its secure and powerful neighbor.\n\nThe elaps among venomous snakes is another instance where protection\nis afforded through mimicry to a harmless snake that would otherwise\nbe defenceless. The elaps and the species that copy its coloring are\nfound only in tropical America, and are peculiar as being the only\nsnakes marked in the same manner by red, black, and yellow rings.\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n                         NEW PUBLICATIONS.\n\n\n  THE WORKS OF AURELIUS AUGUSTINE, BISHOP OF HIPPO. A New Translation.\n    Edited by the Rev. Marcus Dods, M.A. Vols. I. and II. The City of\n    God. Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark. For sale by the Catholic Publication\n    Society, New York. 1871.\n\nThe Messrs. Clark, of Edinburgh, are well known and honorably\ndistinguished among publishers for the works of a high class of\nscientific and literary worth in sacred literature which they are\nregularly bringing out in the best style of the typographic art.\nBesides their series of works by the most eminent German Protestant\ntheologians of the orthodox school, some of which are really valuable\nto the Catholic student, they are issuing a set of translations of the\nAnte-Nicene Fathers, and have now commenced a series of translations\nfrom St. Augustine which they design to extend to sixteen or eighteen\nvolumes. We cannot sufficiently rejoice in the publication of these\npatristic works. Nothing can produce an equally powerful impression in\nfavor of the Catholic Church on serious and educated minds with the\nperusal of numerous and extensive works translated from the early\nChristian writers. The two volumes before us are, in every sense of\nthe word, superb. The editor has prefaced them by an introduction,\nwhose style reminds us of Macaulay--while its matter is excellent,\ninteresting, and in all respects unexceptionable--in which he gives an\naccount of the nature and the circumstances of the great work of St.\nAugustine, and of the various judgments of eminent scholars upon it.\nSo far as a merely cursory glance can warrant us in judging of the\nmerit of the translation, it appears to us that the extremely\ndifficult task of rendering the Latin accurately into good English has\nbeen successfully accomplished. The work itself has been considered by\nsome eminent scholars as one of the great masterpieces of human\ngenius. It is the first great work on the philosophy of history which\nwas ever written. It was the fruit of the latest and most mature\nperiod of the great doctor\u2019s life. Its plan embraces a comprehensive\ndefence of Christianity against the objections of the Roman statesmen\nand philosophers of the fifth century. A vast number of interesting\ntopics are treated in it, so that, apart from the philosophical value\nwhich it possesses, it is most interesting and curious as a museum of\nantiquities from the epoch when paganism was passing away to give\nplace to Christianity. It is to be hoped that Catholics as well as\nProtestants will patronize the truly noble and useful undertaking of\nthe Messrs. Clark and their literary _collaborateurs_, to enrich our      282\nEnglish libraries with these splendid patristic translations.\n\nA Life of St. Augustine is also promised to accompany the selections\nfrom his writings. From this we can scarcely expect as much\nsatisfaction as from the other parts of the undertaking. The theology\nand opinions of the writer must unavoidably prevent him from\nunderstanding and correctly representing a Catholic bishop and doctor,\nand giving a perfectly complete and correct account of the state of\nthe church during the period in which he lived. No one but a Catholic\ncan achieve this task with success, although a Protestant who is\nsufficiently learned, accurate, and skilled in the art of composition,\nmay make a perfectly satisfactory translation of Catholic works. It\nwere much to be desired that some competent Catholic scholar would\ngive us a biography of St. Augustine so complete and perfect that it\nwould supplant all others, and take rank as the standard history of\nhis life and times.\n\n\n  LIGHT IN DARKNESS. A Treatise on the Obscure Night of the Soul. By\n    the Rev. A. F. Hewit, of the Congregation of St. Paul. New York:\n    Catholic Publication Society. 1871. Pp. 160.\n\nThis is a very small volume in bulk, and of very modest pretensions,\nbut of great merit, and treats with much truth and justice a very\nimportant subject. It belongs to what is called _Mystic Theology_, and\ngives us in a small compass the simpler elements of the science of the\nsaints, and cannot fail to interest all those who are entering upon a\nlife of Christian perfection, whether in religion or in the world. The\n\u201cobscure night of the soul,\u201d as St. John of the Cross calls it, is\nexperienced in some degree by all whom the Holy Spirit is conducting\nthrough purification, not to be effected without pain and sorrow, to\nthe highest and closest union with God possible while we are still in\nthe flesh. It is a deprivation of all sensible sweetness in devotion,\na desolation, a deadness of all but the very highest faculties of the\nsoul, in which all is dry and hard, and the soul discerns not a ray of\nlight to relieve the darkness that seems to pervade and envelop her\nevery act, and everything seems listless, prayer demands an effort,\nand brings no consolation, and meditation is painful and fruitless.\nThis obscure night of the soul, sometimes called passive purgation, is\nsupernatural, the gift of the Holy Ghost, and is intended to try the\nsoul, to test its faith and confidence, to purify it, and enhance its\nmerit by bringing it in the end into joyful union with God.\n\nIf carefully distinguished from sadness and melancholy, which may\nspring from the physical constitution and a variety of natural causes,\nthis inward desolation, in which the soul longs for light, for\nspiritual life, and to behold the countenance of the Lord, is a great\ngood, and a proof that the Holy Spirit has not left us, but is present\nwithin, and is preparing us for the joyful day that will dawn in the\nsoul, and permit us to ascend to the Mount of Vision with the saints.\nSensible sweetness, even visions, which are not seldom experienced by\none just entering a religious life, are baits to lure us on, or to\nsave us from discouragement, but they cannot create in us a robust and\nsolid piety. Whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth, and scourgeth every\nson that he receiveth. Far more profitable to the soul is this obscure\nnight in which the Lord hides his face from us, and leaves us\ndesolate, and yet does not leave us, nor cease to love and care for\nus.\n\nFather Hewit explains the sources and solidity, the certainty, the\ninfallibility, of the science of the saints; shows the principles on\nwhich it rests; describes the desolation of the soul due to the\ndiscipline to which the Holy Spirit subjects the aspirant to Christian\nperfection; gives plain and simple directions to distinguish it from\nnatural sadness or melancholy, and for the behavior of the soul while     283\nsuffering, and for deriving the greatest possible spiritual benefit\nfrom it. He also gives us a criterion by which the operations of the\nHoly Ghost may be distinguished from visionary illusions sent by Satan\nto deceive and ruin the soul, which the spiritists make so much of.\nHis remarks on spiritism are just and opportune, are exceedingly\nvaluable, and should be pondered by every Catholic. The ravages of\nspiritism are fearful.\n\nThe work is addressed solely to Catholics, and we think young and\ninexperienced confessors and directors will find much in it to aid\nthem in their noble but arduous duties of directing souls in the way\nof perfection. To the class of Christians for whom it is specially\nintended, it will serve as a valuable and trustworthy guide, and will\nassist them to profit by the many larger and fuller treatises on the\nspiritual life whose excellence is unquestionable, and without\nsuperseding them. We thank the author for the rich present he has made\nus.\n\n\n  THE MONKS OF THE WEST, FROM ST. BENEDICT TO ST. BERNARD. By the Count\n   de Montalembert. Boston: Patrick Donahoe. 1872. 2 vols.\n\nThis is an American reprint of the English translation of Count\nMontalembert\u2019s great work. The English edition is not only very\nsplendid, but very costly. Mr. Donahoe\u2019s edition is compressed into\ntwo volumes, at the reduced price of eight dollars, and is\nnevertheless very handsomely printed, with type sufficiently large and\nclear, and in all other respects well brought out. We welcome its\nappearance as a most fortunate event, and recommend the work most\nheartily as one which every intelligent Catholic ought to read as a\nglorious monument of his religion, and every literary man as one of\nthe finest historical and literary productions of the age.\n\nIt is without a question that the Count de Montalembert was one of the\ngreatest and noblest men of this century, whether in or out of the\nCatholic Church. The present work is the most complete and splendid\nmonument of his genius and piety which he has left to perpetuate his\nfame. It is no mere compilation of biographies of the common sort, but\na history of the great monastic institution in the West, of its\nstupendous works, and of the civilization of which it was one of the\nchief organizing powers. It includes some most important and little\nknown chapters in the history of the chief nations of Christendom. Its\ncopious and exact erudition is only equalled by the majestic eloquence\nof the style in which it is written, and which the translator has well\nrendered into English. There are a few passages in the introduction in\nwhich the author has allowed a certain bitterness of feeling to\ndisturb the ordinarily pure current of his sentiments, and has\nbetrayed some signs of his sympathy with the errors of the party of\nso-called Liberal Catholics. We do not consider this blemish, however,\nsufficient to detract seriously from the value and merit of this great\nwork, or to make its perusal in any way dangerous. It is a work\nthoroughly Catholic, and pervaded with the same spirit of loyalty to\nthe Holy See which the illustrious author has expressed in his\ndedication of the work to Pius IX. Whatever he said or did in a\ncontrary spirit was a lamentable inconsistency, which we trust God has\npardoned, as the Holy Father has done in so tender and magnanimous a\nmanner.\n\n\n  PETERS\u2019S CATHOLIC CHOIR. A Monthly Magazine devoted to Catholic\n    Church Music. New York: J. L. Peters.\n\nThe purpose of this publication is to offer in a cheap form selected\nmusical Masses, hymns, and motets for the use of our church choirs.       284\nThe selections, from a purely musical point of view, are as good as\npublications of this nature generally contain.\n\n\n  THE PICTORIAL BIBLE AND CHURCH HISTORY STORIES. Abridged. A\n    Compendious Narrative of Sacred History, brought down to the\n    present Time of the Church, and complete in one Volume. By the\n    Rev. Henry Formby. New York: The Catholic Publication Society,\n    9 Warren St. 1871.\n\nThis is a book which deserves to find a place as a text-book in all\nCatholic schools, and to be put by all Catholic parents into the hands\nof their children. Even the very little ones will be found capable of\ncomprehending the easy and familiar English of the narrative; nor can\ntoo much stress be laid on the importance of thus familiarizing them\nfrom the start with the history of God\u2019s dealings with men. For this\npurpose, the plan of acquainting them with the Bible history simply is\nfar from sufficient. It leaves too great a gap between the past and\nthe present--as if sacred history had virtually come to an end\neighteen centuries ago, and since then everything had been merely\nsecular and profane. A well-instructed child needs to have the whole\nof sacred history, from the creation of the world to the usurpation of\nRome by Victor Emanuel, laid before his eyes in a series the\nconnections of which are plain and unbroken. Such a simple historical\nknowledge will be apt to prove the best safeguard of his faith in a\ntime when there is no longer any great temptation for him to abandon\nit in favor of misbelief, but when open unbelief in the providence of\nGod is fast becoming his only real enemy. The task which Father Formby\nhas undertaken, of presenting this history in an easy and compendious\nform, is one which he has very satisfactorily accomplished, and for\nwhich there seemed to be a crying need.\n\nWe can only hope that American Catholics will make haste to avail\nthemselves of the results of his labors. The book is an attractive\none, very fully illustrated by pictures which, if they are not to be\ncalled artistic, have at all events the merit of being often\nsuggestive, and the letterpress will be found good reading by older\nreaders as well as by the young ones.\n\n\n  THE ILLUSTRATED CATHOLIC FAMILY ALMANAC FOR THE UNITED STATES FOR\n    THE YEAR OF OUR LORD 1872. Calculated for different Parallels of\n    Latitude, and adapted for use throughout the Country. Illuminated\n    cover, 12mo, pp. 144. New York: The Catholic Publication Society.\n    1872.\n\nThere are many good works to be done for our Catholic community, and\nhere is one of them. A little annual at a trifling price, yet, in\npaper, typographical execution, and illustrations, wonderfully\nattractive, now finds its way to over seventy thousand Catholic homes,\nand gives to perhaps a quarter of a million of Catholic readers\ninformation, instruction, and entertainment.\n\nThe material is new and healthy. It is a commentary on the communion\nof saints. Catholics are not of one state or country, of one age or\ncentury. We are a brotherhood embracing all. The young growing up wish\nto know of the past glories of the church as the old love to speak of\nthem; and all desire information of the actual life of the church.\n\nGod\u2019s hand is not shortened in the nineteenth century. He overlooks\nthe great and wise, and reveals himself to little ones, now as of old.\nBernadette Soubirous, whose likeness is given, kneels there, and all\ncluster round her to hear the wonderful history of Lourdes. The lately\nmartyred Archbishop of Paris will be viewed with interest, and the\nsketch of him will be imprinted on all minds. The beautiful portraits\nof Adelaide Procter and Eug\u00e9nie de Gu\u00e9rin bring to mind the\nrepresentative women of the church in our day, whom to know is to         285\nlove; and many thousands will here begin to appreciate those two\nbeautiful souls. In the history of the church in America, all will\nfeel that Catholicity is no stranger in the land when we see before us\nthe remains of a cathedral in Greenland, built in the twelfth century;\na bishop in Florida in the sixteenth, predecessor of the illustrious\nCarroll in the last, and the saintly Flaget in our own.\n\nIreland, the fatherland of so many sons of our Holy Mother, is not\nforgotten. The ruins of religious houses, caused by hate, and the\nexcellent portrait of the Liberator, O\u2019Connell, show the close union\nbetween Catholics of all lands and times.\n\nThis little attractive bouquet of Catholic flowers, rich with the\naroma of faith, will, by its suggestions, its information, and its\ncreditable appearance alone, keep alive and stimulate the true\nCatholic feeling; and there can be no better work than to disseminate\nit widely and more widely in every parish, until it finds its way to\nevery Catholic family in the land.\n\n\n  LIFE OF THE REVEREND MOTHER JULIA, Foundress and First Superior\n    of the Sisters of Notre Dame, of Namur. Translated from the\n    French. With the History of the Order in the United States. New\n    York: The Catholic Publication Society, 9 Warren Street. 1871.\n\nMarie Rose Julia Billiart, the foundress of the Sisters of Notre Dame,\nwas born at Cuvilly, in Picardy, in 1751, and died in 1816. The life\nfrom which this is translated was first published in 1862, for the use\nof the Sisters, but will be found also of great interest to the\ngeneral reader. It is certainly so, or at least should be, in this\ncountry, where they are so widely diffused, are doing so much for the\ncause of Catholic education, and are so well known. Mother Julia was\nalso a saint, and the lives of the servants of God are always\ninteresting, especially when told in a natural and unaffected way. Her\nwhole life was an extraordinary one, though her congregation was not\nestablished till 1803, when she had reached the age of fifty-two; its\nfoundation being, as it were, necessarily delayed by the disturbances\nin France during the Revolution; but of course the greater part of\nthis memoir is occupied with her last years, which were more abundant\nthan those that preceded in visible service to others, though not\nperhaps in merit to herself. At her death, the order was firmly\nestablished, though not without passing through many trials and\ndifficulties, and had a number of houses in France and Belgium. It was\nbrought to this country in 1840, and to England three years later; it\nnow has seventeen houses there, and twenty in the United States,\nhaving the care, in these two countries alone, of more than thirty\nthousand children. The latter part of the book, as stated in the\ntitle, is occupied with its foundation and establishment here; also an\ninteresting account is given of its introduction into England and\nGuatemala, to which latter place they were sent in 1859.\n\nWe have before us a list of the houses of the Sisters in\nMassachusetts, nine in number, at which nearly seven thousand children\nare instructed, as well as over a thousand night-scholars; they have\nalso more than five thousand attending Sunday-school. It is very much\nto be desired and hoped that so useful a body of religious may be\neverywhere as abundant as in this favored state; and yet there are not\nenough even there, and probably never will be. The words of our Lord\nare always verified: \u201cThe harvest indeed is great, but the laborers\nare few.\u201d Still, there will, no doubt, be vocations when they are\nreally asked for.\n\nThe _Life of Mother Julia_ is well and clearly printed, and beautifully\nbound; and the translation was made by an American lady fully qualified   286\nfor the task.\n\nAn excellent portrait of Mother Julia embellishes the book.\n\n\n  THE FOUR GREAT EVILS OF THE DAY. By Henry Edward, Archbishop of\n    Westminster. London: Burns, Oates & Co. 1871. Pp. 142. For sale by\n    The Catholic Publication Society, New York.\n\nThe Four Great Evils exposed in these four lectures are the Revolt of\nthe Intellect against God, the Revolt of the Will against God, the\nRevolt of Society against God, the Spirit of Antichrist. The author\nshows how the revolt against the Roman Church and the Vicar of Christ\nresults in atheism, immorality, social anarchy, and the disruption of\nthe whole fabric of Christianity, involving the destruction of the\nhuman race, and of the world, the Catholic Church excepted, which is\npreserved by miracle to the end of time. These lectures are very\ntimely, and ought to be read by every reflecting person. The\nArchbishop of Westminster is equal to the greatest of our modern\nprelates in his clear insight into Catholic principles, and thorough\nknowledge of the atheistic and communistic tendencies of\nProtestantism. Hence the respect, fear, and hatred with which he is\nregarded by the enemies of the church. One thing especially noticeable\nin these lectures, and which we have observed with peculiar pleasure,\nis the exhibition of the intellectual as well as moral degradation of\nmodern infidelity. The superstition and absurdity into which the proud\nrebellion of the mind against the authority of the church has plunged\nit is shown by Archbishop Manning, in a different way from that\nemployed by Dr. Newman, but with a force equally irresistible. We\nrecommend all our intelligent readers, and we presume that all our\nreaders are intelligent, who desire to master the true and pure\nprinciples of the Catholic religion in their relation to the errors\nand disorders of the day, to obtain and study carefully all the works\nof the Archbishop of Westminster.\n\n\n  A CRITICAL GREEK AND ENGLISH CONCORDANCE OF THE NEW TESTAMENT.\n    Prepared by Charles F. Hudson, under the direction of Horace L.\n    Hastings, editor of _The Christian_; revised and completed by Ezra\n    Abbot, LL.D., Assistant Librarian of Harvard University. Second\n    edition, revised. Philadelphia: J. B. Lippincott & Co. 1871.\n\nThis handy little volume is evidently the result of a good deal of\npainstaking and conscientious labor. As the production of several\nhands, it is a monument of somewhat heterogeneous scholarship. It\nprofesses to be \u201ccritical\u201d; and critical and scholarly we are sure it\nis, so far as it is indebted to the contributions of Dr. Ezra Abbot, a\ngentleman whose minute bibliographical knowledge is only equalled by\nhis rare modesty, and by his readiness to place his learning at the\ndisposal of others. To his careful hand, we take it, is due the\ncollection of various readings as given by Griesbach, Lachmann, and\nthe latest editions of Tischendorf and Tregelles. The student will\nfind in this compilation a mass of information which we do not\nremember to have seen in so compact a form elsewhere. For the rest,\nthe work will doubtless fulfil the purpose announced by the\neditor-in-chief, as a \u201cbook available to the mere English reader,\u201d and\nwill be welcomed by evangelical ministers of all denominations who may\nhave felt more or less keenly the need of supplementing the defects in\ntheir early classical education by some easy artificial helps. How\nconvenient, for example, when we run against the word \u03b3\u03c5\u03bd\u03ae, to find,\non the authority of Messrs. Hastings and Hudson, that, in a given\nnumber of passages, the majority in fact, it signifies _woman_,\nundoubtedly _woman_, whereas in several other given passages, including   287\n1 Cor. ix. 5, it means _wife_--even though there may be some\nmisgivings about the \u201cmargin.\u201d Whether or not it be \u201ccritical,\u201d under\ncover of scholarship, to turn a supposed Greek concordance into\nnothing more nor less than a quiet vindication of the accuracy of the\nKing James Version, we leave it to ordinary unbelievers to determine.\n\n\n  LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN, with Notices of some of his\n    Contemporaries, and Specimens of his Style. By D. A. Harsha, M.A.,\n    author of \u201cLife of Philip Doddrige, D.D.,\u201d etc. Philadelphia: J.\n    B. Lippincott & Co. 1871.\n\nNothing, we suppose, is more likely to strike the ordinary Catholic\nreader, supposing him even to waste his time over books of the kind,\nthan the great meagreness and poverty of what are known by\nProtestants as religious lives. Even a non-Catholic, like Mr.\nMatthew Arnold, has somewhere commented on the superiority of\nCatholic biographies to Protestant ones, with that air of easy\ninsolence which has made him anything but a pleasing subject for\ncontemplation to the majority of his countrymen and co-religionists.\n\nMr. Harsha\u2019s life of the allegorizing tinker of Bedford can boast of\nno advantage in this respect over other efforts of the same general\ndescription. It is not, we should say, the fault of the biographer,\nwho seems to have genuine religious instincts, and to be principally\nhampered by his ignorance of what true spirituality means, and the\npoverty of the material he works in. These, however, are in his\nposition necessary evils.\n\nThis book has other faults for which he is more actively\nresponsible. A man who wonders that Bunyan should have been molested\nfor his religious views under what he, perhaps facetiously, calls\nthe \u201cmild rule of Cromwell\u201d (a characterization that John Evelyn would\nhave been as slow to endorse as any Catholic Irishman of Zedah) and is\npuzzled to account for his freedom during the reign of the Second\nJames, needs something besides an acquaintance with the _Pilgrim\u2019s\nProgress_ and Bunyan\u2019s sermons to qualify him for the task of a\nbiographer. Perhaps, however, a thorough knowledge of history would be\nas successful an agent in the work of un-Protestantizing a sincere man\nas any other merely human one that could be named.\n\n\n  GRADUALE DE TEMPORE ET DE SANCTIS, juxta Ritum Sacrosanct\u00e6 Roman\u00e6\n    Ecclesi\u00e6 cum cantu Pauli V. Pont. Max. jussu reformato cui addita\n    sunt officia postea approbata sub auspiciis Sanctissimi Domini\n    Nostri Pii PP. IX. Curante Sacr. Rituum Congregatione, cum\n    privilegio. Ratisbon\u00e6, Neo-Eboraci et Cincinnatii: Sumptibus,\n    chartis et typis Frederici Pustet.\n\nAbout the time of the opening of the \u0152cumenical Council, the firm of\nF. Pustet were permitted by special indult to publish a revised\nedition of the Gradual known as the Medicean. A commission was\nappointed by the Sacred Congregation of Rites to undertake this\nrevision, but the suspension of the Council and the political troubles\nensuing prevented the completion of their labors. A dispensation,\nhowever, was granted to Mr. Pustet to publish and sell the work,\nadding the portion yet unrevised as it stands in the original edition.\nWe reserve a fuller notice for some future date, when we hope to lay\nbefore our readers a critical essay on the various editions of the\nGradual and other books of chant published in Europe and Canada.\n\n\n  THE GRAND DEMONSTRATION in Baltimore and Washington, D. C., in honor\n    of the XXVth Anniversary of the Election of Pius IX. to the Chair\n    of St. Peter, June 17, 18, 19. A.D. 1871. Baltimore: John Murphy &\n    Co.\n\nIt would be scarcely possible to add anything on the general subject\nof this handsome brochure--the theme of so many thousand eloquent pens    288\nand voices. The celebration in the Province of Baltimore, however, was\nan exceptional one, as became the oldest See in the United States.\nBesides the addresses, letters, and resolutions, etc., which we\nnaturally look for in such a publication, it includes encyclical and\nother letters from His Holiness, and some historical and chronological\nmatter which the reader will find highly useful.\n\n\n  THE MARTYRS OF THE COLISEUM; or, Historical Records of the Great\n    Amphitheatre of Ancient Rome. By the Rev. A. J. O\u2019Reilly,\n    Missionary Apostolic at St. Mary\u2019s, Capetown. London: Burns,\n    Oates, & Co. 1871. For sale by the Catholic Publication Society,\n    New York.\n\nThe basis of the narratives of this volume is furnished by the ancient\n_Acts of the Martyrs_. The story of several of the most illustrious\nmartyrs of the early ages is told by the author, according to history\nand legend, with some embellishments of imagination, poetry, and\nfancy. There is also an account of the history of the Coliseum itself,\nas far as knowledge or probable conjecture can furnish it. The\nauthor\u2019s style is warm, exuberant, and brilliant. The volume is\ninstructive and entertaining, and ought to be a favorite, with young\npeople especially.\n\n\n  MANUAL OF PIETY, for the use of Seminarians. Second American Edition.\n    Baltimore: Published by John Murphy & Co., 182 Baltimore Street.\n    1872.\n\nThis is a new edition of an excellent and well-known manual for\nseminarians. It can hardly be too highly commended either as regards\nmatter or form. It contains an immense amount of matter in a very\nsmall space, and the type is clear and beautiful.\n\n\nMR. ROBERT CODDINGTON has in press, and will publish about Christmas,\n_The Vicar of Christ; or, Lectures upon the Office and Prerogatives of\nour Holy Father the Pope_, by Rev. Thomas S. Preston, pastor of St.\nAnn\u2019s Church, New York, and Chancellor of the Diocese. It will be\npublished uniform in style with the other volumes of Father Preston\u2019s\nlectures.\n\nThe Catholic Publication Society will publish, November 1, _Mary,\nQueen of Scots, and Her Latest English Historian_, a narrative of the\nprincipal events in the life of Mary Stuart, with some remarks on Mr.\nFroude\u2019s _History of England_, by James F. Meline. This work will\ncontain not only the thorough criticism of Mr. Froude\u2019s _History of\nEngland_ as far as made in the five articles on the subject in THE\nCATHOLIC WORLD--articles which have attracted general attention, and\nput Mr. Froude upon his defence--but also a complete narrative of the\nlife of Mary Stuart, with a review of those volumes of Mr. Froude\u2019s\nhistory not noticed in the articles.\n\nMR. P. DONAHOE, Boston, will soon publish _To and from the Passion\nPlay at Oberammergau, Bavaria_, from the pen of the Rev. George H.\nDoane, Chancellor of the Diocese of Newark. It will be dedicated to the\nRt. Rev. J. R. Bayley, D.D., Bishop of Newark.\n\nKELLY, PIET & CO. announce as in press _The Martyrs of the\nColiseum_, by Rev. A. J. O\u2019Reilly.\n\n\n                          BOOKS RECEIVED.\n\n  From CHARLES SCRIBNER & CO., New York: The Holy Bible according to\n    the Authorized Version (A.D. 1611), with an Explanatory and Critical\n    Commentary, and a Revision of the Translation, by Bishops and\n    other Clergy of the Anglican Church. Edited by F. C. Cook, M.A.,\n    Canon of Exeter. Vol. I. Part 1. Genesis-Exodus.\n\n  From KAY & BROTHER, Philadelphia: A Collection of Leading Cases in\n    the Law of Elections in the United States, with Notes and References\n    to the latest Authorities. By Frederick C. Brightly.\n\n\n\n\n                                 THE                                      289\n\n                          CATHOLIC WORLD.\n\n                VOL. XIV., No. 81.--DECEMBER, 1871.\n\n     Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1871, by\n  REV. I. T. HECKER, in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at\n                         Washington, D. C.\n\n\n\n\n                   THE RECENT EVENTS IN FRANCE.\n\n\nWe have no occasion to dwell on the disastrous events of the war of\nthe second French Empire with Prussia, nor on the still more\ndisastrous results of the feeble efforts of the improvised republic to\ndrive back the German armies from French soil. They are too painful to\nbe dwelt on, and are, probably, as well known to our readers as to\nourselves. We may, however, remark that we regard it as a mistake to\nrepresent the war as unprovoked by Prussia. The party that declares\nthe war is not always responsible for it. Prussia, by her duplicity,\nher aggressive spirit, and her menacing attitude to France, gave to\nthe French government ample reason, according to what has long been\nthe usage with European nations, for declaring the war.\n\nWe have never been the partisans of Louis Napoleon; but it is only\nsimple justice to say that by his concessions of January, 1870, he had\nceased to be the absolute sovereign of France, and had become a\nconstitutional monarch, like the Queen of Great Britain and Ireland,\nand the declaration of war against Prussia in July of the same year\nwas not his personal act, but the act of the Liberal ministry and the\nFrench people, influenced, not unlikely, by the secret societies that\nhad sworn the Emperor\u2019s destruction. Perhaps, when the facts are\nbetter known, it will be clearly seen that the Emperor had really no\nalternative but war with Prussia, or the loss of the French throne for\nhimself and dynasty. Though unprepared, he chose the war, as offering\nat least a chance of success, and it is not improbable that the result\nwould have been less disastrous both for him and the nation if he had\nbeen loyally sustained by the French people, and had not had a more\nformidable enemy in his rear than in his front. The influences that\ncompelled him to consent to the declaration of war were unfriendly to\nhim, and both before and after the declaration were, not unlikely,\nindirectly controlled by that astute but unprincipled diplomatist,\nBismarck, at present Chancellor of the new German Empire, and through     290\nwhose adroitness Germany has been Prussianized.\n\nIt now also appears that the disaster of Sedan was far less the fault\nof the Emperor than of his marshals, who acted without his orders, and\nwithout concert with one another. If Marshal MacMahon had fallen back\non the capital, as Trochu says he advised, instead of attempting to\nrelieve Metz, and given the nation time to rally and concentrate its\nforces, it is probable the empire would have been saved, and the\nPrussians been ultimately defeated and driven beyond the Rhine. Even\nafter the disaster of Sedan, the integrity of French territory might\nhave been saved, and peace obtained on far less onerous terms than\nthose which were finally imposed by the conqueror after the surrender\nof Paris, but for the Parisian mob of the 4th of September, which\ncompelled the Corps L\u00e9gislatif to pronounce, illegally of course, the\nescheat of the Emperor and the empire, to proclaim the republic, and\nto suffer a so-called government of defence to be improvised. The\ndisaster of Sedan was great, but it was a mere bagatelle in comparison\nwith that of the revolution effected by the Parisian mob acting under\nthe direction of the secret societies, whose destructive power and\ninfluence were so well and so truthfully set forth by Disraeli in his\n_Lothair_, one of the most remarkable books recently published, and\nwhich shows that its author fully understands the great questions,\nmovements, and tendencies of modern society. That revolution was the\nreal disaster, and Paris, not Prussia or Germany, has subjugated\nFrance. The French, excepting a few lawyers, journalists, literary\ndreamers, and the workingmen of the cities and towns, who demanded\n\u201c_la r\u00e9publique d\u00e9mocratique et sociale_,\u201d had no wish for a republic,\nand were, and are, decidedly anti-republican at heart. The men\ncomposing the so-called government of defence were, for the most part,\nmen who had not, and could not inspire it, the confidence of the\nnation, were men without faith or solid principle, theorists and\ndeclaimers, utterly destitute both of civil and military capacity,\ndistrusted, if not detested, by all Frenchmen who retained any sense\nof religion or any love of country surpassing their love for their own\ntheories. France, perhaps, could have been saved by a loyal support of\nthe empire, and a hearty co-operation with the Imperial government\nunder the Empress-Regent, even after the disaster of Sedan, but not by\noverthrowing it, and plunging the nation into the revolutionary abyss.\nThe government of defence only hastened the catastrophe by defaming\nthe Imperial government, calumniating it, and publishing every sort of\nfalsehood against it that malice could invent or render plausible, as\nthe event has proved, and all the world is beginning to see and admit.\n\nBut for the socialistic revolution, it is now known that, even after\nthe surrender of the Emperor, the Imperial government could have\nobtained peace without any mutilation of French territory, and on\nterms, if hard, at least such as could be borne. France would have\nsuffered the mortification of defeat, and would have been compelled to\nindemnify, as a matter of course, Prussia for the expenses of the war;\nbut she would have suffered no loss of territory, and would have\nremained, defeated indeed, but not conquered. Europe would have\nmediated effectually in her favor, for the balance of power requires\nher preservation; but the European nations could not intervene in favor   291\nof a revolution which was a menace to each one of themselves, and\nPrussia would not and could not treat with a revolutionary committee\nthat had no legal existence and no power to bind the nation.\n\nThe insurrection of Paris on the 18th of March, 1871, against the\nVersailles government, was only the logical continuation of that of\nthe 4th of September against the empire. The same party that made the\none made the other. An omnibus would hold nearly all the republicans\nin France that differ essentially or in principle from the Paris\nCommune, and its suppression after a fearful struggle is the\ncondemnation of the revolution that overthrew the empire, and also of\nthe government that suppressed it. Its suppression, so absolutely\nnecessary if France or French society is to subsist, was simply the\nrevolution condemning and killing itself. No government can be founded\non the revolutionary principle, for that principle is destructive and\ncan found nothing; and hence it is that every revolution is compelled\nto devour itself; and to be able to reconstruct and maintain political\nor social order, it must deny its own principle, and as far as\npossible undo its own work. Yet the Commune is only \u201cscotched, not\nkilled,\u201d and will rear its head again in the first moment a new\npolitical crisis comes. A republic of law and order, respecting and\nmaintaining the rights of person and property, such as we regard our\nown, is at present impracticable in every nation in Europe, with the\nsingle exception of Switzerland, for it has no basis in the interior\nlife, the antecedents, the manners, customs, and usages of the people.\nIt was by the aid of non-republican France that the Parisian\ninsurgents were put down. There is in Europe no political _via media_\npracticable as yet between the absolutism of C\u00e6sar and the absolutism\nof the people. Either C\u00e6sar is in the place of God, or the people; and\nthe only religion this nineteenth century tolerates is either\nmonarchical absolutism or popular absolutism; and European society, as\nwe see, only swings like a pendulum from the one to the other, and\nfinds no liberty or chance for free development under either. Its real\nprogress is suspended.\n\nAt this moment, France lies prostrate with the iron heel of the\nconqueror on her neck, and that conqueror, Prussia, a power that never\nwas known to have a noble or generous sentiment, and that has 1806 to\navenge. Prussia has not yet relaxed her hold on her prostrate foe, and\nwill not of her own accord, so long as a single sign of life remains.\nFrance has now no legal government, no political organization, and,\nwhat is the worst, recognizes no power competent to reorganize her\nsociety, and reconstitute the state, and has recognized none since the\nrevolution of 1789. Since that worldwide event, she has had no\ngovernment which she felt herself bound in conscience to obey, or\ntowards which she had any genuine sentiment of loyalty. No government\nhas been able to count on the national support if it became\nunfortunate, and ceased to gratify the national pride or vanity. The\nprinciples of 1789, avowedly accepted as the basis of his government\nby the Emperor, are destructive of the very sentiment of loyalty, and\ndeny the obligation in conscience of the people to obey authority any\nlonger than it suits their convenience. If a plebiscitum or the\npopular vote could create a legal government, Louis Napoleon was and\nis still the legal sovereign of the French people, and, through them,\nof France. But the nation never had any sentiment of loyalty towards      292\nhim, and abandons him as it did his greater uncle the moment he\nbecomes unsuccessful. It never felt that it owed him allegiance, and\nhow could it since he professed to hold from it? His government was\nbased on a plebiscitum, and could it bind the nation? It was created\nby the people, was their creature, and can the creator be loyal to or\nbound by his own creation? The nation can be bound only by a power\nabove itself and be loyal only to an authority that comes from a\nsource independent of the people.\n\nLouis Napoleon held from 1789, and had the weakness to believe in\nplebiscitums. He seems never to have understood that universal\nsuffrage can only create an agency, not a government. He was a\ndisciple of the political philosophers of the eighteenth century, who\nerected revolution into a principle. These philosophers of the\neighteenth century made no account of the continuity of the national\nlife, of national habits, customs, and usages, and assumed that the\nconvention might draw up an entirely new constitution according to an\nabstract and preconceived theory, without regard to the antecedents or\npast life of the nation, and without any support in the spiritual or\nsupernatural order above the nation, get it adopted by a plurality of\nvotes, and safely rely on _l\u2019int\u00e9r\u00eat bien entendu_, or enlightened\nself-interest, to preserve it and secure its successful practical\nworkings as the fundamental law of the nation. The whole history of\nFrance for nearly a century, without any reference to our own\nexperience, refutes the absurd theory of the philosophers, or\nsophists, rather. A French gentleman, still living, told us, before\nthe recent collapse of the second French Empire, that he had witnessed\nseventeen revolutions or changes of government in his native country,\nand he is in a fair way of living to see the number increased at least\nto a score. No government created by and held from the people can\ngovern the people; and, if reason alone or the calculations of\ninterest were sufficient to sustain a government, no government or\npolitical constitution would be necessary. Paper constitutions are\nworthless, save so far as they express the living constitution of the\nnation. \u201cConstitutions,\u201d Count de Maistre has well said, \u201care\ngenerated, not made\u201d; and the merit of the American constitution is in\nthe fact that it was born with the American people, not made by them.\n\nFrance was originally constituted by the king, the nobility, the\nchurch, with some feeble remains of the old Roman municipalities,\nsubsequently revived and expanded into the _tiers-\u00e9tat_. The balance\nof her original constitution had been disturbed, it is true; the\nchurch and the nobility had been greatly enfeebled by the inordinate\ngrowth of monarchy on the one hand, and the expansion of the communal\npower on the other; but these four fundamental elements of her\nnational constitution still subsisted in more or less force down to\nthe Revolution of 1789. That revolution swept away king, church, and\nnobility, and proclaimed the _tiers-\u00e9tat_ the nation, without any\npolitical organization or power to reconstitute legal or legitimate\ngovernment. No nation is competent to constitute itself, for till\nconstituted it is only a mass of individuals, incapable of any legal\nnational act. Since then France has been trying in vain to make\nsomething out of nothing, and been continually alternating between the\nmob and despotism--despotism suppressing the mob, and the mob deposing\ndespotism. She at this moment has no legal government, and the French     293\npeople recognize no power able to reconstitute the state. Her old\nmonarchical constitution, tempered by the church and her old nobility,\nand restrained by provincial customs, usages, privileges, and\nfranchises, is swept away, and nothing remains of her political life\nthat can serve as the germ or basis of reorganization, or the\nre-establishment of authority, competent, legally or morally, to bind\nthe nation, restore order, and protect liberty.\n\nWorse than all else is the fact that 1789 swept away the church as a\npower in the state, and left the state it wished to constitute without\nany moral support, or power not dependent on the nation to sustain it.\nIt threw the management of public affairs into the hands of men and\nparties that had no faith in God, who hated or despised religion, and\nbelieved only in themselves and the perfectibility of the species.\nThis was the greatest evil of all. A nation may be politically\ndisorganized, and yet be able to recover and re-establish a legal\ngovernment, if it retains religion as an organized power, independent\nof the nation; for it then retains a power that has its source in the\nsupernatural, above the people, and able to bind the national will in\nconscience, and give consistency and a divine sanction to the national\nordinations. The first Napoleon had sense enough to see something of\nthis, and to understand that he could not reorganize disorganized\nFrance without calling in religion to his aid; he therefore solicited\na concordat from the Holy See, and re-established the church. But he\nhad not sense enough to see and understand that even the church could\nnot aid him if holding from himself, or if subjected in her\nadministration to his own or the national will. He committed\nthe usual mistake of secular sovereigns, that of insisting on keeping\nthe control of the ecclesiastical administration in their respective\ndominions each in his own hands, of using the church to control his\nsubjects, but allowing her no authority over himself.\n\nNothing can exceed the short-sightedness of secular sovereigns in\nseeking to keep religion in their respective dominions subject to\ntheir will as an adjunct of the police, rather than an independent\npower holding from God, and alike supreme over sovereigns and\nsubjects. The present hostility to the church, even in old Catholic\nnations, is in no small measure owing to the fact that the sovereigns\nhave sought to use her to preach submission, resignation, and patience\nto their subjects, and to uphold the authority of the government,\nhowever forgetful of its duties, tyrannical, or oppressive. They have\nsought to make her their instrument in governing or, rather,\nmisgoverning their subjects, without the liberty to exercise the power\nwhich, as the representative of the divine authority on earth, she\nholds from God, to remind them of their duty to govern their subjects\nwisely and justly, to rebuke and place them under interdict, and even\nto declare their power forfeited when they persistently violate the\nlaw of God and oppress the people. They thus render her odious to the\nlovers of freedom. Hence we see the revolution far more bitter against\nthe church than against the sovereigns, who, having rendered her\nodious by denying her the freedom and independence which are her\nright, and without which she can render no service either to power or\nto liberty, have everywhere abandoned her to the tender mercies of her\nenemies, in the vain hope of conciliating the revolution and saving\ntheir own heads. They throw her now as a sop to Cerberus.                 294\n\nThe power of religion to sustain authority against the insurrection\nand rebellion of subjects, and liberty against the tyranny of the\nprince, is in her being an organic power in the nation, but\nindependent of the national will, holding from God, not from the\nnation or its sovereign, and free to declare and apply the divine law\nalike to prince and people. Nationalized, she has no support outside\nof the nation, no power not derived from it, and can give the nation\nonly what it already has in itself. It must follow, not lead the\nnation, and share its fate, which it has no power to avert. What can\nthe Russian Church do to restrain the tyranny of the Czar? Or the\nChurch of England to check the progress of the revolution now going on\nand threatening to sweep away king, nobility, and the church first of\nall? What can it do before the democracy become omnipotent? Why is it\nthat no Gentile nation has ever shown any recuperative energy, but\nbecause Gentilism, as the name implies, is nationalism, and the nation\nhas in it only a national religion, and nothing outside, above, or\nindependent of the national authority? The Gentile religion, deprived\nof catholicity, had to follow the nation, and to share its corruption\nand its fate. When the nation fell, it fell with it; and the nation,\nwhen it fell, fell for ever, and disappeared from the list of nations.\nProtestantism in its essential principle is a revolt against\ncatholicity, and the subjection of religion to the national will. It\nis essentially a revival of nationalism, or Gentilism, and hence a\nProtestant nation has no recuperative energy, and, were it to fall,\nits fall would be like that of a Gentile nation, a fall without the\npower to rise again. So it must be with every nation that has only a\nnational or a nationalized religion.\n\nNapoleon, who wished the church only as an adjunct of his own power,\nnever understood anything of all this. He saw that the church was more\nconservative than Protestantism, and in fact so by virtue of her\nCatholicity, that she had a stronger hold on the French people, and\ncould serve him better than any Protestant sect; but he did not see\nthat the church, sought for a political end, is necessarily powerless\neven to that end, and that she serves a political end only when she is\nsought for her own sake, recognized and supported for a religious end,\nor as the free and independent kingdom of God on earth. Not\nunderstanding this, he refused her unrestrained liberty, and sought by\nhis own legislation to subject her in his own dominions to his own\nwill, and to compel her either to support his policy or to feel the\nfull weight of his vengeance. She must support him, wear his livery,\ndo his bidding, hold his enemies to be her enemies, or he would not\ntolerate her at all. She, as the church of God, could not accept this\nposition and sink into a mere national church, however powerful the\nnation. She asserted her independence, and her independence alike of\nhim and those he professed to govern. He commanded her to obey him:\nshe refused. He quarrelled with her, dragged her supreme pontiff from\nhis throne, despoiled him of his estates, imprisoned him, was\nexcommunicated, became powerless before his enemies, was defeated,\nlost his throne, and was sent by his conquerors to fret his life away\nas a prisoner of England on the barren isle of St. Helena, leaving\nFrench society hardly less disorganized than he found it.\n\nThe Restoration which followed was a return toward legitimacy, and\nunder it France actually recuperated with a rapidity which seems          295\nmarvellous to unbelievers. But it humiliated the nation, because it\nwas imposed on it by foreign bayonets, and its work of reparation and\nexpiation necessarily made it unpopular with all who had profited by\nthe plunder and confiscations of the Revolution, or by the wars of the\nEmpire. The spirit of 1789 still possessed a large portion of the\npopulation. The Bourbons returned, also, with the old Gallican\ntraditions of the relation of church and state, which had lost the\nmonarchy, and prepared the people for the old revolution. They would\nhave the church, indeed, but they would never recognize her rightful\nsupremacy; and, though giving France really the best government she\nhad had for a long time, they at length fell before the intrigues of a\nyounger branch of the family, supported by the combined factions of\nthe Bonapartists, republicans, and socialists.\n\nThe monarchy of July or the Barricades was, notwithstanding the\npretences of the _juste milieu_, or doctrinaires, a purely\nrevolutionary government, improvised in the interests of disorder,\nwithout a shadow of legality, and without anything, in the nation or\nin religion, on which it could rest; and from the first it was spurned\nby the legitimists, the old national nobility, by the peasantry, the\nlarger part of the republicans, and supported only by the\n_bourgeoisie_, or business classes, and the Bonapartists, the latter\nof whom hoped to make it a stepping-stone to the restoration of the\nNapoleonic empire. It had no hold on the nation, no power to\nreconstitute it on a solid and permanent basis; and so, as a new\ngeneration appeared on the stage, it fell without a struggle before\nthe Parisian mob. It was indifferent rather than avowedly hostile to\nthe church, but it gave free scope to the infidel press, warred\nagainst the Jesuits, and maintained the infidel university in the\nmonopoly of education. It, however, indirectly served the cause of\nreligion by the little court favor the bishops could obtain, and who,\nin consequence, retired, and looked after the interests of religion in\ntheir respective dioceses, so that when a Parisian mob overthrew the\ncitizen-king in February, 1848, and proclaimed the republic, the\nchurch was really more influential in France than she had been since\n1682. She had influence enough to displace the party that made the\nrevolution from the control of public affairs, to defeat and crush the\nreds and communists in the terrible days of June, 1848, to save French\nsociety from utter dissolution, and maintain order under a republic\nproclaimed by the friends of disorder. We are far from being convinced\nthat, if the bishops and clergy had continued to show the energy in\nsupporting the republic that they did in wresting it from the control\nof the infidels and destructives, they would not have been able to\nreconstitute French society on a Catholic and a republican basis, to\nthe advantage alike of religion and society.\n\nCertain it is, the church, though not officially supported by the\nrepublic, and had many and bitter enemies in France, was freer under\nit than she had been since the great Western Schism, and had a fair\nopportunity to prove to the world that she is wedded to no particular\nform of government or political organization, and can subsist as well,\nto say the least, in a republic as in a monarchy. We thought at the\ntime, and we still think, though no enemy to monarchy and no blind\ndefender of republicanism, that the French bishops and clergy\ncommitted a grave blunder in abandoning the republic and surrendering     296\nFrench society to the nephew of his uncle--a member of the Carbonari,\na known conspirator against the Pope in 1832, and a favorite with the\nred republicans and socialists. It would be difficult to estimate the\ndamage they did to France and to the cause of religion throughout the\nworld. It will cost, perhaps, centuries of bitter struggle and\nsuffering on the part of Catholics, to repair the sad effects of that\nblunder. But French Catholics had for ages been accustomed to rely on\nroyal support, and they lacked the robust and vigorous habits under\nGod of self-reliance. The bishops and clergy could easily have marched\nto a martyrs\u2019 death, but they had with all their experience never\nlearned the folly of putting their trust for the church in princes.\nThey remembered the Reign of Terror; they remembered, also, the\nflesh-pots of Egypt, and shrank from the hunger, thirst, and fatigue\nof the desert.\n\nThe new emperor found the French people divided into three principal\nparties--the church or Catholic party, which included the Bourbonists\nand the better part of the Orleanists; the republican party, properly\nso-called; and the socialistic or extreme radical party, represented\nin the recent civil war by the communists of Paris and of all Europe.\nHis policy on commencing his reign was avowedly to keep the control of\nall these parties in his own hands, by leaving each party something to\nhope from his government, and allowing no one to gain the ascendency,\nand, as far as possible, engrossing the whole nation in the pursuit of\nmaterial goods. He acknowledged the sovereignty of the nation,\nprofessed to hold from 1789, and favored universal suffrage, which was\nin accordance with the views of the republican party; he adopted\nmeasures to secure employment to the working-men of the cities and\ntowns, among whom was the great body of the socialists, or communists,\nby his encouragement of expensive national and municipal works; and,\nto retain his hold on them and to protect himself from the assassins\nof the secret societies, he made his Italian campaign, drove the\nAustrians out of Italy, and prepared the way for Italian unification,\nand for despoiling the Holy Father of his temporal possessions and\nsovereignty; raised the salaries paid to clergy as servants of the\nstate, and repaired churches and abbeys as national monuments at the\nnational expense, to please and secure the church party. But he\nsuppressed the freedom the church had enjoyed under the republic,\nmaintained the \u201corganic articles\u201d of his uncle, and all the old\nGallican edicts and legislation against the freedom and independence\nof the church in full force, trusting that she would see a\ncompensation for her loss of liberty in the increased pomp and\nsplendor of her worship or the gilded slavery to which he reduced her.\n\nThe recrudescence of infidelity, atheism, or materialism was a marked\nfeature under the Second Empire, and the influence of religion daily\nand hourly declined; and all the wisdom and energy of the government\nseemed exerted to _despiritualize_, if we may be allowed the word, the\nFrench nation, to extinguish whatever remained of its old chivalric\nsentiments and its old love of glory, once so powerful in every French\nheart, and to render the nation intent only on things of the earth,\nearthy. His policy, being always that of half-measures, disguised as\nmoderation, was not suited to make him true friends. His Italian\ncampaign against Austria was pushed far enough to make Austrians his      297\nenemies, but not far enough to make friends of the Italians. His\nconsent to the annexation to Sardinia of the Italian duchies, the\nNeapolitan kingdom, and the \u00c6milian provinces of the Holy See, was\nenough to alienate the friends of international law, and to offend all\nconservatives and Catholics who had any sense of right or religion;\nbut not enough, so long as he protected the Holy Father in the\nsovereignty of the city of Rome, to gain him the good-will of the\ninfidels, communists, secret societies, or of the partisans of Italian\nunity. His policy of never pushing matters to extremes, and of winning\nand controlling all parties, by leaving each something to hope from\nhim, but never what any one specially desired, necessarily resulted,\nas might have been foreseen, in offending all parties, and in gaining\nthe confidence of no one. He had by his half-and-half measures\nsucceeded in alienating all parties in France, and, by his Crimean\nwar, his Italian policy, and his half-league with Bismarck to drive\nAustria out of Germany and increase the territory and power of\nPrussia, had succeeded equally well in losing the confidence of all\nthe European nations with which he had any relations, and in finding\nhimself without an ally or a friend.\n\nThe elections of 1869 disclosed the very unsatisfactory fact that he\nreally had no party in France, and no support but his own creatures,\nand if he still retained a feeble majority in the popular vote, say of\nfive hundred thousand votes out of an aggregate of six millions and a\nhalf, it was from a dread of another revolution, rather than from any\nattachment to him personally or to his government. This led him to a\nnew line of policy, to abandon _personal_ government, to make large\nconcessions to what is called self-government, and to throw himself\ninto the arms of the apparently moderate liberals, as distinguished on\nthe one hand from the church party, and on the other from the\nsocialists, communists, or destructives, that is, of the feeblest and\nleast popular party in France, and consented to the war against\nPrussia as his only chance of recovering, by military success, if he\ngained it, his popularity with the nation. His military expedition\nhaving failed, because he had, so to speak, _unmartialized_ his\nempire, and because he was not really backed by the French people, he\nwas obliged to surrender himself a prisoner of war with his army at\nSedan, and his dynasty was expelled by a mob. He had abandoned the\nHoly Father in order to serve the liberals at home and abroad,\ndeserted the cause of God, and God, and even the liberals, deserted\nhim.\n\nFrance is to-day not only prostrate under the iron heel of the\nPrussian, but is without any government in which any party in the\nnation has any confidence, and, if she recovers at all, her recovery\nmust be slow and painful, and subject to numerous relapses. Prussia,\nas we have said, will not readily let go her hold, and never, so long\nas she can help it, suffer her to rise from her present condition. The\nremote cause is 1789, or rather the causes that led to that\nuncalled-for and most disastrous revolution; but the proximate cause\nwe must look for in the lack of wise and practical statesmanship in\nLouis Napoleon, who sought to govern France according to a\npreconceived theory, worked out in his closet or his solitary studies.\nWhen he took the reins of government, the Catholic party were really\nin the ascendant; and, had he been a wise and practical statesman, he\nwould have seen that the only chance of reorganizing and governing        298\nFrance was not in laboring to maintain an equilibrium of parties, but\nin throwing himself resolutely on the side of the party, in studying\nand sustaining, without any compromise with the enemies of God and\nsociety, real Catholic interests, and in surrounding himself by\nthorough-going Catholic statesmen. Catholicity alone offered any solid\nbasis for the state or for authority, order, or liberty. The other\nparties in the nation were all, in varying degrees, the enemies alike\nof authority and liberty, and none of them offered any solid basis of\ngovernment. He should, therefore, have placed his whole confidence in\nCatholic France, and set them aside, and, if they rebelled, have\nsuppressed them, if necessary, by armed force. Had he done so, and\nacted in concert with the Holy Father and the religious portion of the\nnation, he would have reorganized France, given solidity to his power,\nand permanence to his throne. But from policy or from conviction he\nchose to hold from 1789, and was incapable of understanding that no\ngovernment that tolerates the revolutionary principle, or is based on\ninfidelity or the rejection of all spiritual or supernatural authority\nabove the nation, can stand. So-called self-government, without the\nchurch of God, teaching and governing all men and nations in all\nthings spiritual, is only a delusion, for the nation needs governing\nno less than the individual.\n\nBut as we have already hinted, there are remoter causes of the present\ncondition of France, and, we may add, of all old Catholic nations; and\nCatholics must not throw all the blame of that condition on the\ngovernments or the revolutionary spirit of 1789, still so rife. They\nhave been and still are the great majority in all these nations, and\nwhy should they not be held responsible for the prevalence of the\nrevolutionary spirit, and for the bad secular governments they have\nsuffered to oppress the church? Why have they suffered an\nanti-Catholic public opinion to grow up and become predominant? Why\nhave they suffered the rights and interests of religion to be\nsacrificed to the falsely supposed rights and interests of the secular\norder? Can they pretend that no blame attaches to them for all this?\n\nFrance has, at least since the death of Philip the Second of Spain,\nbeen the foremost Catholic nation of the world, and for a much longer\ntime the leader of modern civilization; and in her we may see the\ncauses that have produced her own fall and that of the other old\nCatholic nations. France, in this her supreme moment, has not, we\nbelieve, a single Catholic in the administration. The president is a\nbeliever in no religion; the minister of foreign affairs is no\nChristian, and besides is a man of very small abilities; the minister\nof worship and instruction says he is moral, but he is certainly no\nCatholic. The transition government, opposed as it is by all the other\nparties in the nation, of course must at present seek to gain the\nsupport of the bishops and clergy, or what we call the church party.\nIn Spain, though the majority are Catholics and have votes, the\ngovernment is in the hands of the enemies of the church. In Italy, a\nhandful of infidels and miscreants are able, though the great body of\nthe people are Catholics and have votes, to control the nation, to\nviolate with impunity every principle of private right and of\ninternational law, to confiscate the property of the church and of\nreligious orders, and to despoil the Holy Father, take possession of\nhis capital, and hold him a prisoner in his palace. Why is this           299\nsuffered? Why is France and every other old Catholic nation ruled by\nmen who have no regard for the church and are opposed to her freedom\nand independence? Whence in modern times comes this undeniable\npolitical inanity of Catholics? Why is it that popular literature,\nscience, and public opinion are throughout the world decidedly\nanti-Catholic?\n\nCertainly this is not owing to the inaptitude of Catholics as such;\nfor, through all the ages from the fall of the Western Roman Empire to\nthe taking of Constantinople by the Ottoman Turks in the fifteenth\ncentury, Catholics were the governing class, and in no period of human\nhistory have civilization and the progress of society so rapidly\nadvanced as during this period, which Digby calls the Ages of Faith.\nIt is not, again, owing to any loss of life or vigor in the church\nherself, as is evinced by the success of her missions in Protestant\nnations and among savage and barbarous tribes. It is only in old\nCatholic nations that the church loses ground, and this proves that\nthe cause is not in her. It can be traced to no Catholic cause, but\nmust be traced to some defect in the Catholic administration in these\nold Catholic nations themselves. Catholics protect Catholic interests\nbetter, and have more influence in public affairs in Prussia, in Great\nBritain and Ireland, in Holland, and the United States, than in\nAustria, France, Spain, or Italy. Why is this?\n\nOne reason we may perhaps find in the failure of pious and devout\nCatholics to consider the difference between their duties in a\nCatholic state and what were their duties in the early ages under the\npagan emperors. Under the pagan emperors, power was in the hands of\ntheir enemies, as it is in infidel, heretical, and schismatical\nnations now, and they had no political responsibility. All that was\nincumbent on them was to cultivate the private virtues, to do their\nbest to sanctify their souls, to obey the constituted authorities in\nall things not contrary to the law of God, and, when the laws of the\nempire or the edicts of the emperors commanded them to do what the\nChristian law forbids, to refuse obedience and submit cheerfully to\nthe penalty of disobedience, which in most cases we know was\nmartyrdom. But when the empire became Christian, and especially when\nChristendom was reconstituted by the conversion of the barbarian\nnations that succeeded to the empire, the position and duties of\nCatholics or Christians in some respects changed. Power passed to\ntheir hands, and they became responsible for its exercise, and it was\ntheir duty to keep it in their own hands, and conform the national\nlegislation and administration to the law of Christ. Catholics then\nincurred as Catholics a political responsibility which they had not\nunder the pagan emperor, and which they were not free to throw off.\nThe popes always understood this, and acted accordingly; but the\nascetic discipline which enjoined detachment from the world was by\nmany devout and earnest souls construed to mean detachment from all\npart or interest in the political order or the government of\nChristendom. In consequence, the affairs of state fell, as under the\npagan empire, into the hands of C\u00e6sar, or of those who were more\nambitious to acquire honors and power than to protect and promote the\ninterests of religion.\n\nThis has been more especially the case since the opening of modern\nhistory or the rise of Protestantism; and we find among devout\nCatholics intent on saving their own souls a feeling that there is an\nincompatibility between politics and religion, and that he who would      300\nserve God must leave the affairs of state to men of the world; which\nis, in effect, to deliver them over to the control of men who are\nservants of Satan rather than servants of God. The state has,\ntherefore, been given over to the Enemy of souls, because Catholics\nwere led, through a one-sided asceticism, to neglect to keep it in\ntheir own hands, and the church has been suffered to be despoiled, her\npontiffs, priests, and religious have been suffered to be massacred,\nfor the lack of a little resolution and energy on the part of\nCatholics to defend their religion and the sacred rights of their\nchurch and of society entrusted to their courage and fidelity. Thus a\nhandful of Jansenists, Protestants, Jews, and infidels in France were\npermitted to establish a reign of terror over twenty-five millions of\nCatholics, exile their bishops, massacre or banish their priests and\nreligious, suppress religious houses, close the churches, prohibit\nCatholic worship, abolish religion itself, decree that death is an\neternal sleep, and substitute for the worship of the living God the\nidolatry of an infamous woman, placed upon the altar and adored as the\ngoddess of Reason. All this time, while all these horrors were enacted\nin the name of the nation, the twenty-five millions of Catholics,\nexcept in Brittany and La Vend\u00e9e, made hardly a show of resistance,\nand suffered themselves to be led as sheep to the slaughter, forgetful\nthat they owed it to France and to Christendom to sustain and govern\ntheir country as a Christian or Catholic nation. It is a duty to pray,\nand to pray always, but sometimes it is a duty for Christians to\nfight, and to have not only the courage to die in the battle for a\nholy cause, but to generous souls the far more difficult courage, the\ncourage to kill. We have observed among French Catholics no lack of\ncourage against a foreign foe, even in a war of more than doubtful\nnecessity or justice, but a fearful lack of courage against the\ndomestic foe, as in the late communist insurrection of Paris. They\nseem restrained by scruples of conscience.\n\nAnother reason may probably be found in the fact already hinted, that\nthe mass of Catholics have been trained and accustomed to rely on\nexternal authority; to look for protection and support not to God and\nthemselves, but to the secular government. They have not been\naccustomed to rely on spiritual authority alone, but on the secular\nsovereign as a sort of _episcopus externus_. This had no evil\nconsequences so long as the secular sovereign was faithful, and acted\nonly under the direction and authority of, and in concert with, the\nSupreme Pontiff; but it had a most disastrous effect when the\nsovereign acted in ecclesiastical matters in his own name, and when he\nturned against the Pope, and sought to subject the church in his\ndominions to his own control or supervision, which was not seldom the\ncase. But the clergy and people, accustomed to look to the secular\nauthority to guard the fold against the entrance of the wolves, became\nslack in their vigilance and remiss in acquiring habits of\nself-reliance, and, with the inspirations of the Holy Ghost, of\nself-defence. Consequently, when kings and princes ceased to keep\nguard, or when they turned wolves themselves, as in the Protestant\nrevolt, the flock was powerless, knew not to whom to look for support,\nand had no resource but to yield themselves to be devoured by schism,\nheresy, or apostasy. This is now the case with the great body of the\nCatholic people in all old Catholic countries. With the vain hope\nof conciliating the revolution and preserving their thrones, the          301\nsovereigns of Europe, without a single exception, have abandoned or\nturned against the church, and there is not one on whom the Holy\nFather can count. He is alone, with the kings and princes of the earth\neither hostile or indifferent to him, while the old habit of relying\non the secular authority for support, for the moment at least,\nparalyzes nearly the whole body of Catholics in all old Catholic\nnations.\n\nAnother reason, growing out of the last, may be found in the habit\nthat has grown up since the rise of Protestantism, of relying on the\nexternal almost to the exclusion of the internal authority of the Holy\nGhost. The Holy Ghost dwells in the church, and teaches and governs\nthrough her as his external organ; he dwells also in the souls of the\nfaithful, and inspires and directs them, and gives vigor, robustness,\nand self-reliance to their piety. Protestantism assailed the external\nauthority of the church, and made it necessary for Catholics to turn\ntheir attention to its defence, and to show that no spirit that\ndisregards it, or that does not assert it and conform to it, can be\nthe spirit of truth, but is the spirit of error, in reality\nanti-Christ, who, the blessed Apostle John tells, was already in his\ntime in the world; yet it may be that the defence of what we call the\nexternal authority of the Holy Ghost, or authority of the church as a\nteaching and governing body, has caused some neglect in the great body\nof the faithful of the interior inspirations and guidance of the Holy\nGhost in the individual soul. No Catholic will misunderstand us. We\nappreciate as much as any one can the external authority of the\nchurch, her supremacy, her infallibility; we accept _ex animo_ the\nsupremacy and infallibility of the successor of St. Peter in the See\nof Rome, as defined in the recent Council of the Vatican, and should\nbe no better than a Protestant if we did not; but that external\nauthority is not alone, or alone sufficient, as every Catholic knows,\nfor the soul, and its acceptance is not sufficient for salvation. The\nHoly Ghost must dwell in the individual soul, forming \u201cChrist within,\nthe hope of glory.\u201d We do not mean to imply that any of our ascetic\nwriters or spiritual directors overlook the need of the interior\ninspirations and guidance of the Holy Spirit, or fail to give it due\nprominence, but that its authority has not had due prominence given it\nin our controversial literature and in our expositions of Catholic\nfaith intended for the public at large.\n\nAll these reasons have combined to reduce France, so long the foremost\nCatholic nation in the world, to her present pitiable condition,\nhardly more pitiable than that of Italy, Spain, Austria, and the\nSpanish and Portuguese states of this continent. What is the remedy,\nor is there none? We do not believe there is no remedy. We do not\nbelieve it, because the church proved her power in France under the\nRepublic of 1848, which originated in hostility to her still more than\nto monarchy; we do not believe it, for we see Catholicity still able\nto convert the heathen; we do not believe it, because we see\nCatholicity vigorous and flourishing, and every day gaining ground in\nProtestant nations, where the church has no external support, and\nreceives no aid from the state, and is thrown back on her own\nresources as the kingdom of God on earth, as she was under the pagan\nemperors. These facts prove that she is by no means effete, or\nincapable of making further conquests. Her decline in old Catholic\nnations is no sign of weakness or decay in her, but is due to the         302\nimperfect training, to the timidity and helplessness of her children,\ndeprived as they are of their accustomed external supports.\n\nThe remedy is not, as De Lamennais contended, in breaking with the\nsovereigns and forming an alliance with the revolution; but in\ntraining her children to those interior habits and robust virtues that\nwill enable them to dispense with the external props and supports of\ncivil society, and in asserting for herself in old Catholic nations\nthe freedom and independence she has here, or had in pagan Rome,\nthough it be done at the expense of her temporal goods and of\nmartyrdom. The people of God, under the Old Law, sought support in an\narm of flesh; the arm of flesh failed, and they were carried away into\ncaptivity. The arm of flesh fails the people of God again. There are\nChristians, but there is no longer a Christendom. Modern society is\nhardly less pagan than the ancient society the church found when she\nwent forth from Jerusalem to convert the world. There is no reliance\nto be placed in the horsemen and chariots of Egypt. The whole world is\nto-day, as in the time of the apostles, a _missionary_ world; and,\nperhaps, the greatest embarrassment of the Holy Father is encountered\nin the fact that Catholics in old Catholic nations cannot see it, but\npersist in being trained and governed as they were when there was a\nChristendom. Everywhere the church is by the defections of the\ngovernments become again in all nations a missionary church, and her\nbishops and priests need everywhere to be trained and formed to be\nwise, persevering, and effective missionaries. Catholics must\neverywhere be made to understand that it is not the church that needs\nthe state, but the state that needs the church.\n\nFrance without the church has no power to reorganize the state. She\nhas not yet subdued the revolutionary elements which have so confused\nher, nor loosed the hold of the conqueror upon her throat, and her\npresent improvised government deserves the confidence of no party in\nthe nation. In itself, the Thiers government is utterly powerless. It\nneeds the church, and cannot stand without her. French Catholics\nshould understand this, and boldly assume the lead of public affairs,\nif they are men and love their country, and make, as they now can, the\nrepublic, under an emperor, king, or president, it matters not much\nwhich, a truly Catholic republic, and France, now so low and weak, may\nbecome again the nucleus, as under Clovis and St. Clotilde, of a\nreconstructed Christendom, constituted differently as to politics, it\nmay be, but unchanged as to religion from that which has now passed\naway. The church never dies, never changes, and cannot be other than\nshe is; but the political organization of Christendom may change with\ntime and events. It changed when the barbarian nations displaced the\nRoman Empire; it changed when Charlemagne closed the barbarous ages,\nand opened the way for the feudalism of the middle ages; it changed\nagain when, through the revolution inaugurated by Luther, absolute\nmonarchy succeeded to feudalism in Catholic hardly less than in\nProtestant Europe; and it may change again when order succeeds to the\npresent revolutionary chaos. It is not likely that Christendom will be\nreconstructed on its old political basis, whether it is desirable that\nit should be or not, and, for ourselves, we think that all who hope to\nsee it so reconstructed are sure to be disappointed. We think it not      303\nimprobable that, when Christendom is reconstituted, it will be\npolitically, on a republican and anti-monarchical basis. Pure\nabsolutism, whether that of C\u00e6sar or that of the people, is\nincompatible with the recognition of the divine sovereignty, and\nconsequently with religion. Neither form of absolutism can form the\npolitical basis of a reconstructed Christendom; but the probabilities\nare that, when things settle into their places, and the new order\nbegins to emerge, it will be based on some form of republicanism, in\nwhich the organic people will take the place of the monarch.\n\nThe present condition of things is certainly sad; but we see nothing\nin it that should lead us to despair of the future. Catholics in old\nCatholic nations have needed, and perhaps still need, to learn that\nthis church can subsist and conquer the world without any external\nsupport of the secular government, but that secular government cannot\nsubsist and discharge properly its duties to society without the\nchurch. We who live in Protestant countries, and see society daily\ndissolving before our eyes, have no need to be taught that lesson; we\nhave already learned it by heart. But the mass of Catholics in old\nCatholic nations, even of the educated as well as the uneducated, as\nyet only imperfectly understand it, and consequently render it\ndifficult, if not impossible, for the church to adopt fully and\npromptly the measures she might judge the most proper to meet the\nwants of the times. They do not see that the old Christendom has gone,\nbeyond the hope of recovery. Providence, it seems to us, has permitted\nthe present state of things as necessary to disembarrass the church of\ntheir inopportune conservatism, and to force them to learn and profit\nby the lesson which every day becomes more and more necessary for them\nto heed, if the prosperity of religion is to be promoted, the\nsalvation of souls to be cared for, and the preservation of society\nassured. The measures taken are severe--very severe, but there are\nscholars that can be made to learn only by the free use of the ferula.\nEspecially do the Catholics of France need to learn this lesson, for\nin no other country have Catholics made their religion so dependent on\nthe secular order.\n\nThe fall of France, notwithstanding the faith, piety, and charity of\nso large a portion of her people, will probably prove only a temporary\ninjury to Catholic interests. France has fallen because she has been\nfalse to her mission as the leader of modern civilization, because she\nhas led it in an anti-Catholic direction, and made it weak and\nfrivolous, corrupt and corrupting. Providence is severely punishing\nher; but he has not, we trust, cast her off for ever. She has in her\nbosom still millions of Catholics, and these have only to come forward\nin the strength of their religion, displace the enemies of God, take\nthemselves the management of the affairs of the nation, and show the\nwisdom and energy they did in 1848, when they put down the red\nrepublicans and socialists. They will then enable France, in spite of\nthe grasp of the conqueror and the fierce opposition of the\ndestructives, to recover, slowly and painfully, it may be, but\nnevertheless to recover, and to prove herself greater and more\npowerful than ever. When France becomes once more a really Catholic\nnation, the revolution will be extinguished, infidelity will lose its\npopularity, atheism will no longer dare show its head, and a reaction\nin favor of the church will take place, so strong and so irresistible     304\nthat the whole world will be affected by it, and the nations that have\nso long been alienated from unity will be brought back within the\nfold.\n\nThe only obstacle to this grand result which we see is in the\ntimidity, in the lack of energy on the part of Catholics in the\nassertion and defence of their religion, or in their want of courage\nto confide alone in God for success. Adversity, we think, can hardly\nfail to reform and reinvigorate them, and to direct their attention to\ntheir true source of strength as Catholics or the children of God.\nThey will learn from it to adhere more closely to the Chair of Peter,\nand to rely more on the internal direction of the Holy Ghost, and less\non the aid of the secular order. No doubt, the present state of things\nimposes additional labors as well as sufferings on the bishops and\nclergy in old Catholic nations, and requires some modifications of the\neducation of the priesthood now given in our seminaries. Our Levites\nmust be trained for a missionary world, not for an old Catholic world;\nbut this need alarm no one; for the greater the labors and sacrifices\nin the service of God, the greater the merit and the reward.\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n                           A MEMORY.[77]\n\n\n              \u2019Twas only a prayer I heard\n                In that vast cathedral grim,\n              Where incense filled the air\n                And vesper lights burnt dim.\n\n              \u2019Twas only a woman\u2019s form,\n                Kneeling with upturned face,\n              That looked through the pictured altar\n                Up to the throne of grace.\n\n              Clasped in her small white hands\n                An amber rosary telling;\n              While from her glorious eyes\n                Teardrops fast were weelling.\n\n              No thought for the world without,\n                No thought for the stranger near,\n              As pausing and sobbing she murmured,\n                \u201cO Mother of sorrows, hear!\u201d\n\n              And I, in a land of strangers,\n                Joined in the pleader\u2019s prayer:\n              Praying for her that I knew not,\n                To Her who I felt was there.\n\n\n     [77] By one who is not a Catholic.\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n                        THE HOUSE OF YORKE.                               305\n\n\n                           CHAPTER XVII.\n\n\n\u201cMost characters are too narrow for much variety,\u201d says Walter Savage\nLandor; and, we add, so much the better for them! for that variety is\noften a bitter dower to its possessor.\n\nA man of one idea may be called an acute sector of humanity. He is\nclear-willed, prompt, and uncompromising; he walks over people who\nstand in his path, and will not listen to the opinions of others,\nexcept in order to controvert them; and he usually accomplishes\nsomething that you can see. The man of two ideas widens his arc a\nlittle, and turns out for and listens to people now and then. The man\nof three or more ideas lives and lets live, believes that some good\nmay come out of Nazareth, and not only listens to others, but is\nsometimes convinced by them; and his path curves somewhat, hinting at\nan orbit. In him you first perceive that growing humanity aims at the\ncircle; and as, with the crescent moon, we may see the full moon\nfaintly outlined, so this man perceives more than he is. For it is not\ntrue, at least not here, what Carlyle says, that \u201cwhat a man kens, he\ncan.\u201d\n\nBut there is another kind of man, rarely seen, who rounds the circle.\nHe has eyes and sympathies for zenith and nadir, sunset and sunrise,\nand every starry sign. His thought enters at every door, feeds at\nevery table, and listens to every tongue. Nevertheless, to the few of\none idea and the few of two ideas, and the countless throng of those\nwho never had an idea, he is, oftener than not, a fool, or a knave,\nor a lunatic. He is eccentric, inconsistent; worse than all,\nunpractical. Doubtless, he is wicked as well, since he is likely to\neat of all the fruits in the garden. For, though original sin may have\ntouched them with blight on the one cheek, on the other, to his eyes\nstill lingers that paradisian bloom it caught on the sixth day, when\nthe Creator looked, and _saw that all was good_. This perfected\nnature, therefore, which needs only the _fiat lux_ of faith to make it\na sun, is appreciated and hailed by him only from whose one limit to\nthe other stretches the connecting glimmer of prophetic\nhalf-knowledge.\n\nWe do not pretend to say that Carl Yorke had one of these universally\nsympathizing natures; but he was various enough to be hard to get\nattuned, especially since his programme had once been interrupted, and\nhis harmony temporarily disconcerted.\n\nWhen a man has looked upon happiness as his first object in life, he\nfinds it hard to give it the second place, or to leave it quite out of\nhis plans. Moreover, we do not repent till we have transgressed, and\nit must, therefore, be far more difficult to save the tempted than the\nsinner. Of actual, heinous transgression, Carl was innocent; but he\nhad slipped around the outer circle, where first you lay the oars\naside, and the smooth-backed waves become your coursers. Then a man\nfancies himself a god: not Neptune himself seems greater. One may more    306\neasily tear himself out from the central whirl than draw back from\nthat smooth outer circle.\n\nBesides, there was doubt. He who can do many things must needs choose,\nand, where circumstances are passive, choice may be difficult. Carl\ninherited his father\u2019s talent, and had more than his father\u2019s force.\nHe sketched and painted exquisitely, and, when he drew the portrait of\none he loved, the picture breathed. Many a lady, disappointed with the\nstiff presentment of her beauty achieved by other artists, had\nentreated him in vain to become her limner.\n\n\u201cRansome paints my nose, and hair, and shoulders all right,\u201d one said.\n\u201cI cannot find fault with a line. But for all the soul he puts into\nthem, my head might as well be a milliner\u2019s block. I suppose it is\nbecause he thinks that a fine body does not need any soul. Such a\ncontrast as I saw in his studio, the other day! He had two or three\nportraits of Mrs. Clare, painted in different positions, and he\ndisplayed them to me, going into ecstasies over her beauty. \u2018Yes,\nyes,\u2019 I answered; but I was not enchanted. \u2018She is one of the few\ndangerous women,\u2019 he said, meaning that the power of her loveliness\nwas irresistible; but I could not understand his enthusiasm.\nPresently, I espied, in a corner of the room, on the floor,\nhalf-hidden by other pictures, a face that made me start. I did not\nthink whether or not the features were perfect, the hair profuse, the\ntint exquisite. I saw only a luring, fascinating creature, who, with\nhead half-drooping and lips half-smiling, gazed at me over her\nshoulder. There were no red and white. The face looked out from\nshadows so profound, they might be of a midnight garden at midsummer,\nwhen the moon and stars are hid in sultry cloud, or from the shrouding\narras of a lonely chamber in some wicked old palace, or from the\noverhanging portal of the bottomless pit. I would walk through fire to\nsnatch back one I love from following such a face. \u2018It is wonderful!\u2019\nI exclaimed. \u2018Why do you hide it? It is by far superior too anything\nelse you have here.\u2019 I thought that Mr. Ransome did not seem to be\nmuch delighted by my praise. \u2018I did not paint it,\u2019 he said. \u2018Carl Owen\nYorke did.\u2019 Of course, I could not say any more. The situation was\nembarrassing. \u2018Would you think that face the same as these?\u2019 pointing\nto his portraits of Mrs. Clare. I could see no resemblance. \u2018They are\nthe same,\u2019 he said, looking mortified. And then I knew what he meant\nin saying that she was a dangerous woman.\u201d \u201cWhy did you paint that,\nMr. Yorke?\u201d the lady asked abruptly, turning upon Carl.\n\n\u201cIn order not to be attracted by it,\u201d he replied gravely. \u201cDid it not\nleave on you the impression of something snakelike? In painting that,\nI broke the spell. Alice Mills told me to paint it. She said, \u2018You are\nfascinated only by that which you cannot analyze. Catch the trick, and\nthe power is gone.\u2019 She was right. She is always right. Nothing is so\nshallow as an evil fascination.\u201d\n\nYet, in spite of every promise of success, Carl turned aside from art.\nHe had found out that the artist, above all, needs happiness. One can\nstudy, think, and work, when the heartstrings are strained to\nbreaking; but he who, with his hand upon the pen, the brush, the\nchorded string, or the chisel, waits till those subtile influences\nwhich he is gifted to perceive shall move him, must have every pulse\nstilled by a perfect content. Pain distorts his work. It untunes his\nmusic, blurs his color, deadens his thought, and makes his chisel\nswerve. Nor is this in purely natural art alone; for the artist whose     307\nstruggling soul ignores all else to grasp the supernatural gives only\na blunted ray through a turbid medium.\n\nThe pencil failing, there was diplomacy, and literature, particularly\njournalism. Something must be done. His idle and aimless life had\nbecome a torture. Therefore he studied, and read, giving much time to\nlanguages. \u201cLanguages,\u201d he was wont to say, \u201care as necessary to a man\nwho would always and everywhere have his forces in hand, as a string\nof keys is to a burglar.\u201d\n\nA conversation which Carl held with Edith, just before she left\nBoston, may have been instrumental in arousing him. The two stood\ntogether, in one of the lance-windows that lighted Hester\u2019s library.\nHester and her mother were up-stairs, and there was no one else in the\nroom but Eugene Cleaveland and his little brother, Hester\u2019s child. The\nlittle one was gravely and patiently striving to pick up, with dimpled\nfingers, a beam of pink light that fell on the floor through a pane of\ncolored glass in the window-arch, and Eugene was as gravely explaining\nto him why he could not.\n\n\u201cAnd so,\u201d said Carl, after a silence, \u201cMr. Rowan is your ideal man.\u201d\n\nIt was his way of intimating his knowledge of existing circumstances,\nand he spoke carelessly, watching the children.\n\n\u201cI have no ideal of man,\u201d Edith replied briefly; and, after a moment,\nadded: \u201cA person maybe excellent, without being ideal.\u201d She thought a\nmoment longer, then said: \u201cMen and stars have to be set at a certain\ndistance before they shine to us. I am not sure but Tennyson could\nmake a fine hero of a poem of Dick. He has heroic qualities. I do not\nanalyze nor criticise my friends, but I perceive this in him: he is\ncapable of proposing to himself an object, and following it steadily.\nEvery one is not.\u201d\n\nCarl Yorke\u2019s countenance changed. And yet he knew well that she had\nnot dreamed of reproaching him.\n\n\u201cWhat are you studying Spanish for?\u201d Miss Clinton inquired fretfully,\none day. \u201cYou might as well learn to dance the minuet.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhen one has so many castles in a country, one would like to know the\nlanguage,\u201d he said.\n\n\u201cPshaw!\u201d exclaimed the old lady. \u201cDon\u2019t waste your time. No language\nwith a guttural in it is fit for a well-bred person to speak. Besides,\nto speak Spanish properly, you must wear a slouched hat and a\nstiletto, or a ruff and feather. I have no patience with this mania\nfor tongues. English and French are enough for any sensible person.\nItalian is boned turkey. What book is that you have brought in?\u201d\n\n\u201cDe Maistre, _Les Soir\u00e9es de Saint-P\u00e9tersbourg_.\u201d\n\nMiss Clinton laughed disagreeably. \u201c\u2018The prophet of the past,\u2019 is it?\nWho is it says that he has \u2018_une grande vigueur, non pas de raison,\nmais de raisonnement_\u2019? Are you studying sophistry or Ultramontanism?\n_A propos_, there are pretty doings in that absurd little town where\nyour people live. That ungrateful paper which you used to edit has\nbeen abusing your father like a pickpocket, on Edith\u2019s account, I\nsuppose. You wouldn\u2019t tell me, but Bird found out; and she says that\nhe doesn\u2019t dare stir outdoors.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is not true that he is afraid,\u201d Carl said; \u201cbut he is insulted. In\nSeaton, \u2018the pen is mightier than the sword,\u2019 without doubt. I would\nlike to see it tried if the horse-whip might not in this case be          308\nmightier than the pen.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou see, now,\u201d the old lady said, \u201cwhat mischief all these religions\nmake. The basis of every so-called religion is hatred of every other\nso-called religion. And here you are poring over De Maistre! Pshaw!\nRead _The Age of Reason_. Here it is.\u201d\n\nCarl was silent a moment, struggling with himself. Then he said, \u201cI\nhave gone round the circle, and come back to a faith in faith, and the\nsneers or arguments of the atheist have no more effect on me. I have\nfound that mocking is neither noble nor manly, still less womanly; and\nI look back on my days of scepticism as on the freaks of a\npresumptuous child, who fancies itself wiser than its parents, when it\nis only more foolish. I have done with Tom Paine and his brotherhood.\u201d\n\nIt is always hard to even seem to exhort our elders, and especially so\nwhen they are our intimates; and Carl spoke with such an effort that\nhis words seemed to be a passionate outburst.\n\nMiss Clinton looked at him a moment in silent astonishment, then\nlaughed shrilly. \u201c\u2018_What is this that hath happened to the son of\nKish?_\u2019\u201d Then changing suddenly, she rang her bell. \u201cBird,\u201d she said,\nwhen that person appeared, \u201cI want you to read the paper to me. There\nis a beautiful case of poisoning, this evening. Young Mr. Yorke is too\npious for secular reading. He has turned preacher, Bird. You and he\ncan sing psalms together.\u201d\n\n\u201cAlice, I accept one dogma of your church,\u201d Carl said afterward to his\nfriend. \u201cI must believe in purgatory, for I am in it.\u201d\n\n\u201cI am rejoiced to hear it,\u201d she replied, yet looked at him sadly. She\nwould so gladly have spared him any pain. \u201cPurgatory is the high-road\nto heaven. Of course, while you are getting your moral perspective\narranged, you must feel uncomfortable; but once started in life, all\nwill arrange itself.\u201d\n\n\u201cSuppose that I should fail?\u201d he asked.\n\n\u201cI dare say that you will fail, in one sense,\u201d she replied. \u201cMen who\npropose to themselves great ends always do meet with a sort of\nfailure, as the flower fails in order to give place to the fruit. Each\ngreat success, _being unique_ of its kind, comes in its own way.\nYou cannot count surely, but success must come, sooner or later.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou speak as if I had all eternity,\u201d he said, not without impatience.\n\nShe looked up vividly. \u201cYou have all eternity, Carl!\u201d\n\nHe made no reply.\n\n\u201cLet me quote a favorite of yours,\u201d she said:\n\n   \u201c\u2018That low man goes on adding one to one,\n       His hundred\u2019s soon hit.\n     This high man, aiming at a million,\n       Misses a unit.\n     That, has the world here--should he need the next,\n       Let the world mind him!\n     This, throws himself on God, and unperplexed,\n       Seeking, shall find him.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cI understand you,\u201d he said, with a slight shrug. \u201cBut, do I look an\napostle?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou might be,\u201d she answered. \u201cYou could influence a class which the\npreachers cannot reach. Religion has been too much confined to\nascetics, or to those who underestimate the power of the beautiful.\nWhat we want most now are Christians who can outshine sinners in\ngrace, fascination, and learning. In these reckless days, people will\nnot receive a check from those whom they know would gladly impose an\nutter prohibition; but one of their own might put a limit. We want\nscholars who will acknowledge that there is a point beyond which          309\nspeculation should not go and reason cannot. We want accomplished\nleaders in society who are not ashamed to prostrate themselves before\nGod; and we want gentlemen to encourage modesty in women. You see\nthere is a large field.\u201d\n\n\u201cI am glad,\u201d Carl exclaimed, \u201cto hear a Catholic own that a rich and\ncultivated person can do some good in the church besides giving money.\nFrom all the sermons I have heard with you, the impression I have\nreceived is that clean linen and a knowledge of the alphabet are\nobstacles to grace. Never once have I heard talent or culture spoken\nof except with reprobation.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! you exaggerate!\u201d she said. \u201cIt is true, the poor need constant\ncomfort, and the rich constant warning; and it is equally true that\nthe greatest ignorance, combined with charity, must be more pleasing\nto God than the finest intellect and learning without charity.\u201d\n\n\u201cThere is precisely the point,\u201d Carl said eagerly. \u201cAnd my experience\nand belief are that the finer the mind and the culture, the greater\nthe charity, and _vic\u00e8 versa_. \u2018_Tout comprendre c\u2019est tout aimer._\u2019 I like\nSir Thomas Browne\u2019s thought: \u2018Those highly magnify him whose judicious\ninquiry into his works returns him the homage of a learned\nadmiration.\u2019\u201d\n\nShe made no reply. They had been out walking, and they now reached\nMiss Mills\u2019s door. \u201cAre you ill?\u201d Carl asked, noticing that she looked\nunusually pale.\n\n\u201cI am rather tired,\u201d she answered faintly. \u201cGood-by!\u201d\n\nWhen he turned away, she stood looking at him through the side-light,\nand, when he was no longer visible, she went up-stairs to her chamber.\nShe was very tired, and very ill. Her impulse was to lie down, but she\nhesitated, then refrained. \u201cAll is ready,\u201d she said, looking about\nher. \u201cI do not think that there is anything to do.\u201d\n\nShe put up a small trunkful of clothing with feverish haste, rang her\nbell, and ordered a carriage. \u201cDrive to the Hospital of the Sisters of\nCharity, in South Boston,\u201d she said to the driver. And, sinking back,\nknew no more till she had reached her destination.\n\n\u201cI think I have come here to die,\u201d she said to the sister who received\nher. \u201cAnd I have a few wishes. Send back word immediately where I am.\nI did not tell them, for I could not bear any struggle. My worldly\naffairs are all in order, and I have no last words to say to any one.\nLet no person come near me but the sister and the priest, and do not\nmention any person\u2019s name to me, nor tell me who comes to inquire. I\nknow they will all be kind; but all my life has been a sacrifice to\nothers, a sympathizing with and loving of others, while my own heart\nstarved, and these last hours must be given to God alone. No earthly\nbeing has any claim on them.\u201d\n\nPerhaps in all her life she had never before spoken so bitterly, but\nher words were true. She had given to the poor, and worked for them,\nand their gratitude had been but the \u2018lively sense of favors to come.\u2019\nShe had been solicitous for friends, had mourned over their sorrows,\nand sympathized with them always, and their selfishness had grown upon\nher unselfishness. So sweet had been the sympathy and love she\nlavished upon them, they had never stopped to inquire if she were\nimpoverishing herself, or if she also might not wish sometimes to\nreceive as well as to give.\n\nBut the thought of how keen would be the revenge of this utter\nwithdrawal at the time when they must have been startled into             310\nthinking of her in some other way than as pensioners, never entered\nher mind. Besides that momentary and almost unconscious complaint, she\nhad but one thought: God alone had loved her, and she must be alone\nwith him. She could no longer do anything for any person; and since no\none belonged to her more than to any other, nor so much as to others,\nno one had any claim to intrude now.\n\nThe sisters were faithful to their charge. Of the many who came with\ntardy devotion, she heard nothing; of Miss Clinton, sitting in her\ncarriage at the door, with two men waiting to carry her up-stairs in a\nchair as soon as she should have permission, the attendants did not\nspeak to her; of Carl Yorke, haunting the place, and sitting hour\nafter hour in the parlor, waiting for news, she never knew.\n\nOne day, when Carl had sat there long, with only one prospect of news\nbefore him, the priest came down, and entered the room. Carl lifted\nhis face from his hands, and looked at him, but could not speak.\n\n\u201cLet us think of heaven!\u201d said the priest.\n\nOf some actively religious persons, we might think that they parody\nthe paradox, and say, Give us the luxuries of piety, and we will\ndispense with the necessities; but this woman had been other. No great\nwork could be pointed to that she had done or attempted: her life had\nflowed like an unseen brook, that, hidden itself, is only guessed at\nby the winding line of verdure which betrays its presence. She was one\nof those piteously tender and generous souls whom everybody makes use\nof, and nobody truly thanks. Seldom, indeed, do we find one so just\nand truly kind as to think for those who do not demand their\nthoughtfulness. It is the clamorous and the pushing who possess the\nland.\n\nA part of Miss Mills\u2019s fortune was given to the church, the rest was\nleft conditionally. She knew Miss Clinton\u2019s caprice well enough to\nthink it possible that Carl might be left unprovided for at the last\nmoment. In such a case, he was to be her heir, after a few legacies\nhad been paid. But if Miss Clinton\u2019s will should be favorable to him,\nthen all was to go to Edith.\n\nOn Miss Clinton, the effect of this death was terrible. She\nalternately refused to believe that it had taken place, and reproached\nthem for telling her of it. When Bird tried indiscreetly to draw a\npious lesson from it, the old lady flew into such a paroxysm of rage\nthat she frightened them. She seemed to be on the point of having\nconvulsions. Carl went to the funeral without saying where he was\ngoing, and the name was never again mentioned in her hearing.\n\nBut that silence was not forgetfulness, they saw plainly; for, from\nthat time, Miss Clinton never allowed herself to be left alone a\nmoment. Bird read to her till far into the night, watched her fitful\nslumbers, and was ready with cheerful inquiries whenever the old lady\nopened her frightened eyes. The light never went out in her room, but\nwas kept brightly burning--a small shade screening the face only of\nthe sleeper. By day, Carl had to read to her amusing stories or tell\nthe gossip of the town.\n\nWhen spring came again, she was unable to leave her room, and, in a\nshort time, was confined to her bed, and from querulous became\nlight-headed.\n\nCarl made a desperate effort one day to induce her to see a priest or     311\na minister, using every argument in his power, even begging her to\nconsent for his sake. He was not sure that she heard or understood all\nthat he said, for, though she sometimes looked at him with intent,\nwide-open eyes, her glance often wandered.\n\n\u201cAre you afraid?\u201d she asked sharply, when he paused for a reply.\n\n\u201cYes; I am afraid,\u201d he answered. \u201cThere is no bravery in defying God.\u201d\n\nShe half-lifted herself from the pillows, her brows contracted with an\nanxious frown, and she looked about the room as if in search of some\none. He was startled by the change in her face. \u201cDo you want\nanything?\u201d he asked gently.\n\n\u201cCarl,\u201d she called out, as if he were far away and out of her sight,\n\u201cwho was it said, \u2018O God!--if there is a God--save my soul--if I have\na soul\u2019?\u201d\n\nShe did not look at him, but leaned out of bed, staring wildly round\nthe room. He tried to soothe her, and coax her back to her pillows\nagain.\n\n\u201cWas it I said it?\u201d she asked excitedly, resisting him, and sitting\nupright. \u201cWas it I said it? It sounds like me, doesn\u2019t it?\u201d\n\nHe rang the bell, and Bird came in. But they could do nothing with\nher. She pushed them aside, leaned from the bed, and searched the room\nwith her wild eyes, then looked upward, and seemed to shrink, yet\ncontinued looking. \u201cWas it I said it, Alice?\u201d she cried out\nbreathlessly. \u201cIt sounds like me, doesn\u2019t it? \u2018O God!--if there is a\nGod--save my soul--if I have a soul!\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cShe is gone!\u201d Carl whispered, and laid her back on the pillow.\n\nSo Carl Yorke was at last rich and free, with the world before him.\nThere was but little for him to do at present. When winter should be\nnear, the family were to come up and take possession of their old\nhome, which would then be ready for them. Now that it was summer, he\nwould go down and stay with them a while. If rest and pleasure were to\nbe had there, he would have them. He felt like one who has travelled\nover a dusty, sultry road, and longs to plunge into a bath, and wash\nall that heat and dust away. He wanted to hear again at the home\ngatherings gentle voices, to see tender, thoughtful ways, to refresh\nhis soul in that quiet yet rich atmosphere.\n\n\u201cI will not turn my back upon delight, and invite dryness of life by\nlooking for it,\u201d he thought. \u201cIf the Bible does not proclaim my right\nto pursue happiness, the Declaration of Independence does, and I will\ngive myself the benefit of the doubt. When the summer fails, I must\nlook about me, and think of work, and remember the curse of Adam; but\nI will give myself a few weeks of lotos-eating--if they are to be had.\u201d\n\n\n                           CHAPTER XVIII.\n\n                         CHOOSING THE PATH.\n\n\n\u201cNow that the priest is gone, we have peace,\u201d said the Seaton paper.\n\nIn fact, having driven the priest away, so that these poor souls were\ndeprived of their consolations and restraints of religion, having\ndestroyed their school-house, so that there seemed no possibility that\nthe school could continue after the cold weather should set in, there\nappeared no more mischief to do. Catholicism was, apparently, dead in\nSeaton. The Catholics did not raise their voices. Those who mourned       312\ntheir deserted altar, mourned in silence; the rest went back to their\nwhiskey-drinking, their quarrelling and stealing. That was what the\natheists meant by peace. \u201cThe lion and the lamb had lain down\ntogether,\u201d but the lamb was inside the lion.\n\nOn the surface of these halcyon circumstances, Carl Yorke found his\nlotos-flower growing. Everybody was smiling and conciliatory.\nCongratulations, not always overdelicate, on his accession to fortune\nmet him at every hand, and callers became more frequent, in spite of a\nreception as cool as politeness would allow. In fine, the Yorkes,\nhaving suffered a temporary eclipse, shone out again with dazzling\nlustre, regilt by their new prosperity. If they bore themselves rather\nhaughtily in the face of this subservience, we can scarcely blame\nthem. We can forgive, we may not care for, the frowns that darken with\nour adversity; but the smiles that brighten when fortune brightens,\nmust, in a noble nature, awaken a feeling of involuntary disgust.\n\nDr. Martin and his wife called a few days after Carl came home. It was\nrather an embarrassing call, for there was scarcely a non-explosive\nsubject on which they could speak, but by dint of careful management\non the part of the ladies, and a determination on the part of each\ngentleman that he would not be the aggressor, no accident happened.\nMr. Yorke and the minister exchanged a few remarks on agriculture,\nClara hovering between them, and volubly smoothing the asperities of\ntheir uphill talk. Mrs. Martin and Melicent were kindred souls on the\nsubject of worsted work, and grew quite intimate over a new pattern\nand a rainbow package of wools. Mrs. Yorke acted as presiding deity,\nand dropped a smile or a word at the right time, and Carl was somewhat\ncynically amused by the situation, and therefore amusing. The visitors\nhad asked for Edith, but she declined to come down. When they had\ngone, however, she spoke kindly of Dr. Martin.\n\n\u201cHe asked me once,\u201d she said, \u201cif, when I came to die, I should need\nany one but Christ. I could not answer him, for I did not understand\nthen that he was attacking the doctrine of extreme unction, and\nintimating his belief that Catholics think only of the priest, and not\nat all of God. But I noticed that he showed a great deal of feeling,\nand when he said, \u2018If you have Christ, you need no one else,\u2019 there\nwere tears in his eyes. Since then, I have liked him. I think he is\nmistaken, rather than malicious.\u201d\n\nMr. Yorke looked gravely at his niece. \u201cI sometimes think,\u201d he said,\n\u201cwith Pope, \u2018that there is nothing needed to make all rational and\ndisinterested people in the world of one religion, but that they\nshould talk together every day.\u2019 If people would ask what you believe,\nand listen to you, instead of telling you what you believe, and\nabusing you, much strife might be avoided.\u201d\n\n\u201cI think that Dr. Martin\u2019s motive in coming here was good,\u201d Mrs. Yorke\nsaid. \u201cHe knows that we are going away, and wishes to part in peace.\u201d\n\n\u201cCarl, have you settled what you are going to be?\u201d Edith ventured to\nask when he joined her afterward in the garden.\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d he answered, with hesitation. \u201cSomething depends. I am at the\nnorth pole, and all roads lead south. Meantime, I am not idle.\u201d\n\nShe waited for him to continue, but he said no more, and she felt         313\nchilled, and mortified at having questioned him. No one in the world\nwas less curious concerning the private affairs of others than Edith,\nand she never asked a question, except from a feeling of tender\ninterest. Therefore she considered herself repulsed.\n\n\u201cWhat are you studying now?\u201d Carl asked, after a moment, the silence\nbecoming awkward.\n\n\u201cI have almost given up books,\u201d she replied quietly, and the hands\nwith which she was weaving a morning-glory vine into its trellis were\nnot quite steady.\n\nOh! if he would only question her, and insist on knowing everything.\nShe was in deep waters, and she longed to tell him all, and ask the\nsolution of her doubts. With a fine, unerring instinct which she felt,\nbut did not understand, Edith could tolerate the thought of no other\nconfidant. Yet a great barrier stood between them. She could go\nfrankly to Dick, if she had anything to say to him, but Carl was\ndifferent. She could tell him nothing, unless he asked her. Besides,\nhe never told her anything. Now she thought of it, except these silent\nmotions of sympathy, their intercourse had been very exterior. She\nknew nothing of his real life; and yet he, too, was at the point of\nchoice in some things, and must have much to say to one he cared for\nand trusted. She waited a moment, then walked toward the house, and\nthey separated rather coldly.\n\nEdith had, indeed, dropped the study of physical science, but she had\ntaken up another, and it perplexed her sorely. Within the last year\nshe had been striving, with but little help, to learn something of the\nscience of the heart. What was this love that had started up in her\npath, and demanded to be listened to, and returned? She had written\nas frankly as she could to Father Rasle, telling him of her promise to\nDick Rowan, and his answer had disappointed her. She read some of the\nmoralists, and her soul recoiled. If that was love, why were the\nstories of Jacob and Rachel, and Esther and Assuerus, told without\nsign of reprobation? She went to the novelists, and they pleased her\nbut little better. In despair, then, she went to the poets. Eureka!\nHere was what she wanted: the affection at once pure and impassioned,\nheroic and tender, demanding all, yet sacrificing all, proud yet\nhumble, inexplicable save by the poet and the lover. It was fitting\nthat the poets should be its interpreters, for it was above common\nlife, as song is above speech. Grapes were not sour because they grew\nhigh, nor things impossible because rare.\n\n\u201cDear Mrs. Browning!\u201d she whispered, as she read _Aurora Leigh_.\n\u201cWhat a pity she had not faith! Her nature is glorious. How she spurns\nthe low!\u201d\n\nShe read Tennyson, and sighed with delight over the faithful Enid, and\nwept for Elaine dead, and floating down the river to Launcelot, her\nletter to him in her hand.\n\nSo, with the help of the poets, Edith escaped the danger of being\ncontaminated by the efforts made to save her from harm. With her\nintuitive beliefs confirmed by these prophetic singers, she refused to\nlet that yet unfolded blossom of her life trail in the mire, but held\nit up with a proud, though trembling hand. To her, loving was a very\nholy and beautiful thing.\n\nBut she longed to know what Carl thought of it.\n\nCarl kept up his regular hours of study, and he set up his easel, and\nmade a crayon group of his father, mother, and sisters. Mrs. Yorke        314\ninsisted that he should paint his own portrait separately for her.\nBeing in a bitter mood one day, he sketched himself as Sisyphus\nstanding on the hill-top, and watching the great stone, which he had\njust rolled painfully up hill, roll down again of itself. Edith sat by\nhim, saying a word now and then, and watching his work.\n\nWhen his hand paused to let his imagination picture first the dull\nmisery in the face of the dazed and baffled giant, she said quietly,\n\u201cWhat great bovine creatures the Titans were, after all! I did not\nadmire them much, even when you read me the translation of the\n_Prometheus_. All that splendor of soul was \u00c6schylus, not the\nfire-stealer. But wasn\u2019t it a beautiful verse: \u2018Stately and antique\nwere thy fallen race\u2019?\n\n\u201cStill, the mastodon is stately and antique, too. The Titans were too\neasily conquered. They cut like great melons. If their spirit had been\nequal to their size, they would have snapped the Olympians like dry\ntwigs beneath their feet.\u201d\n\nCarl knew full well that she was talking _at_ him, but he was in\nno mood to be either shamed or inspired. He wanted to be coaxed. The\nmanliest man has his time of not only wishing, but needing, to be\ncoaxed, if only he would own it.\n\nShe stretched her hand, and softly, inch by inch, drew the\nporte-crayon from his yielding fingers. \u201cPlease, Carl! The picture\nwould haunt me, though it were out of sight.\u201d\n\nIt was better than a wiser word. Carl\u2019s face cleared.\n\n\u201cI am going to paint your portrait in oil,\u201d he said, \u201cand keep it\nmyself. Shall I?\u201d\n\n\u201cI will be your rich patroness, and you a poor artist,\u201d she said. \u201cI\norder my portrait of you, and will pay--let me think what! It shall\nbe a red gold medal of the Immaculate Conception, or a little ebony\ncrucifix, with the figure in gold, whichever you choose. Then I will\nbe a poor lady, and you a rich artist, and you shall buy the picture\nback, and--what will you give me for it? I know what I like that you\nhave.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat do you like?\u201d asks Carl, placing a large sheet of drawing-board\non his easel.\n\n\u201cA tiny brooch, that you never wear, with a carbuncle in it. I confess\nto you that I have longed for it. It is like a coal of fire. It is\nmost beautiful. You know I have a passion for gems. Flowers make me\nsad, but gems are like heavenly joys and hopes that never fade. There\nis no object in nature that delights me like a beautiful gem. They are\nthe good acts of the earth. A ruby is an act of love, a sapphire an\nact of faith, an emerald an act of hope, a diamond an act of joyful\nadoration. Pearls are tears of sorrow for the dead, opals are tears of\nsorrow for sin. The opal, you know, is the only gem that cannot be\nimitated.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo you wanted the carbuncle,\u201d Carl said, much pleased. \u201cWhy didn\u2019t\nyou say so before?\u201d\n\n\u201cI waited till I knew that you cared nothing about it,\u201d Edith\nanswered.\n\n\u201cBut I do value it very much now, young woman; and if you know where\nit is, you will bring it to me at once. I am impatient to see it.\u201d\n\nShe went out and got the brooch. It was a smooth, oval stone of a\ndeep-red color, with a tiny flame flickering in it. The lapidary had\nbeen too true an artist to spoil the stone with facets, and the result\nwas a little crystallized poem. Edith laid it on black velvet, and\nheld it out for Carl to see. \u201cThere!\u201d she said. It had never occurred\nto him to look at it before, but now its beauty was apparent.             315\n\n\u201cI am delighted to give it to you, dear,\u201d he said affectionately, and\npinned the velvet ribbon round her neck with it.\n\nThey smiled at each other, well pleased; then she sat down by him, and\nwatched while he began to sketch.\n\n\u201cIsn\u2019t it odd, Carl,\u201d she said, \u201cthat you and I should be rich people,\nwhen we were so poor a short time ago? Only I did not know that we\nwere poor. I always felt rich after I came here.\u201d\n\n\u201cI half remember a fairy story,\u201d Carl said. \u201cIt is of a fairy who wove\npearls around a sunbeam, or a moonbeam, to prove to her lover her\nmiraculous power. I am going to paint you as that fairy. Shall it be a\nsunbeam or a moonbeam, milady?\u201d\n\n\u201cMake it a tropical full moonlight, Carl, and give me a palm-tree to\nstand under. It would be refreshing to stand in the midst of such a\nscene, even on canvas.\u201d\n\nThe artist sketched lightly and swiftly. \u201cHere, at the right, a troop\nof fairies shall dance, only half seen. Near them, a thin arch of a\nwaterfall shall leap, and drop, and lose itself in spray, and gather\nso slowly, and flow away so slowly, that the stream shall look like a\nvein of amethyst damaskeened into the turf, not a ripple nor a bubble\nto be seen. The orchestra, blowing on flower-trumpets, and shaking\ncampaniles of bluebells and lilies-of-the-valley, are hidden by their\ninstruments beside this waterfall, and their music makes the thin\nsheet waver as it drops. The palm-tree lifts itself against the moon,\nand seems to be on fire with it, and droops in a verdant cascade above\nyou, every feathery plume fire-fringed with light. But only one beam,\nlike a shaft of diamond, shall pierce that foliage, and there you\nstand, with your arms uplifted, braiding pearls around it. You are\nsmiling softly, your hair is down, and filmy sleeves drop back to your\nshoulders. As you braid, the light prisoned inside changes the pearls\nto opals.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou will never be able to make me look like a fairy,\u201d Edith said. \u201cI\nsee a moral in everything. Fairy stories and myths always seem to me\nChristian truths in masquerade; as though the truths, jealously\nwishing us to prize them, put on dress after dress, to see if we would\nrecognize them in each. \u2018If you really care for me, you will know me\nthrough any disguise,\u2019 that is what they say. Why, Carl, if you and I\nwere at a masquerade, and you did not know me, I should feel hurt.\u201d\n\n\u201cWe will try that some night in Venice,\u201d Carl said, smiling to\nhimself.\n\n\u201cYes. But this moonbeam hid in pearls--to me it is like a true thought\nwell spoken; or, no, it is the Immaculate Conception. And now,\ngood-by. I must go to my school.\u201d\n\nSince she could not be permitted to instruct Catholic children, Edith\nwent four times a week, and every Sunday, to the Pattens, and taught\nthem whatever they seemed to be most in need of. The town-schools were\nfar away, and the mother too hard-worked to do more than feed and\nclothe her children, and these ministrations were thankfully received.\nEdith held her school on a large flat rock near the house, so as not\nto interfere with Mrs. Patten, and embarrass her in her work. Only on\nSundays did the young lady enter the house, and then there was a grand\ndress parade, to which the family looked forward all the week. On\nthese occasions the children were all washed \u201cwithin an inch of their\nlives,\u201d as Mrs. Yorke\u2019s Betsey expressed it; their best clothes,          316\ngiven by Mrs. Yorke, were donned; and their hair combed down so\nsmoothly that it seemed to be plastered to their heads. Woe to that\nchild who should rumple a hair or disturb a fold when all was done!\nSince her accession to fortune, Edith had given the family, among\nother things, a clock--they had formerly reckoned time by the\nsun--and, at precisely half-past nine, Joe sat himself in the south\nwindow to watch for the teacher. According to Mrs. Patten\u2019s notions of\npropriety, it would be indecorous for any of them to be seen outside\nthe door on Sunday till after the instruction. The house was as clean\nand orderly as such a place could be made; the sacks of straw and dry\nleaves that answered for beds were made into two piles, in opposite\ncorners, and used as sofas; the calico curtains that divided the\nbedrooms were artistically looped; a vast armful of green boughs\nconcealed the rocks of the rough chimney, the sticks laid there to be\nlighted to get dinner by, and the pots and pans in which that dinner\nwas cooked. Green vines and flowers and moss were placed here and\nthere, and the door by which Edith entered was always made into a sort\nof triumphal arch, where she stood a moment to exchange her first\nsalutation with the family. They were drawn up in two lines, to right\nand left, the girls headed by their mother, the boys by their father,\nand as that pretty creature appeared in the door, with her air of\nhalf-conscious shyness, and wholly unconscious stateliness, like a\nyoung queen appearing to her subjects, the feminine line dropped a\nshort courtesy, and the masculine line achieved a simultaneous bow,\nboth so crisp that they gave a sensation of snapping. What a beautiful\nsalutation was that low, deliberate \u201cGood-morning!\u201d of hers; and what\ncould equal in grace that slight bending, half bow, half courtesy,\nwith which she greeted them! Opposite the door was a little stand,\nwith a chair behind it, and the whole company stood till Edith had\ntaken her seat there. She never did so without a blush of humility.\n\nTo one less earnest, and less preoccupied by the real work she had to\ndo, this ceremony would have seemed sufficiently ludicrous. Or,\nperhaps, we should say, rather, to one less tender of heart. But Edith\nYorke saw only the eager gratitude and desire to do her honor, the\nsimple earnestness and good faith, and that mingling of poverty and\ntaste which silently showed all the misery of poor Mrs. Patten\u2019s life.\nFor all that was done was hers. Without her, the children and their\nfather would have been almost as clods.\n\nThere is a certain arrogance of affability with which the rich\nsometimes approach the poor, as though wealth and education\nconstituted an essential difference which they are elaborately anxious\nshould not too much humiliate their _prot\u00e9g\u00e9s_. This the\nintelligent poor are very quick to perceive, and inwardly, if not\noutwardly, to resent. Others assume the rude manners of those whom\nthey would benefit, in order to set them at ease--a good-natured\nmistake, but one which inspires contempt, and weakens their influence.\nEdith Yorke\u2019s quick sympathies and delicate intuitions rendered it\nimpossible for her even to make either of these missteps. She carried\nherself with perfect dignity and simplicity, was kind, and even\naffectionate, without lowering herself into a caressing familiarity,\nand thus gave them a sample of exquisite demeanor, and, at the same\ntime, set them as much at their ease as it was well they should be.       317\nIf people of rude manners were always perfectly at ease, they would\nnever improve. Mrs. Patten, who was often on her guard with Melicent,\npronounced Edith to be a perfect lady; and when an intelligent poor\nperson gives such a verdict, without hope of favor from it, it is,\nperhaps, about as good a patent of social nobility as a lady can\nreceive.\n\nPaul and Sally were still at \u201cthe hall,\u201d where Melicent considered\nthem her especial subjects, and taught them in season and out of\nseason; but, alas! there were still nine children at home. Polly, the\nbaby of six years ago, is now a stolid lassie of seven, and there are\ntwo younger, the last only six months old.\n\nOne hot Sunday in July, Edith found the feminine procession without\nits head. Everything else was in order, but Mrs. Patten sat in a\ncorner of the room, holding her sick baby. It had been sick all the\nweek, and Edith had visited it, and sent the doctor, but this morning\nit was worse.\n\n\u201cWe need not interrupt your discourse, though,\u201d Mrs. Patten said. \u201cHe\ndoesn\u2019t notice anything.\u201d\n\nIn these Sunday lessons, usually consisting of Bible instructions,\nhistories of the saints, and explanation of Christian doctrine, Edith\nhad instilled a good deal of Catholic truth, without alarming her\nhearers. She had even obtained permission to teach the children to\nbless themselves, and say the Hail Mary; only Mrs. Patten had wished\nthat _Mother of Christ_ should be substituted for _Mother of\nGod_.\n\n\u201cBut was not Christ God?\u201d asked the young teacher.\n\n\u201cYes, Miss Edith,\u201d the woman replied. \u201cBut Mary was the mother of his\nhuman nature only, not of his Godhead.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou cannot separate them,\u201d Edith said. \u201cHe was not born a mere man,\nand deified afterward: his birth was miraculous, and God was his\nFather. She was the mother of all that he was. To be a mother is not\nto create. You did not make that child\u2019s soul, yet you are his mother.\nYou would not stop to say that you are the mother of his body, and\nthat his soul came from God. You are his mother, because you gave him\nhuman life; so Mary did for Christ. Besides, you will always be your\nchild\u2019s mother, though his body will turn to dust, and be regathered\nagain at the last day. But the body of Christ never was destroyed. It\nsits now at the right hand of the Father, the same human form that\nMary cherished, as you do that child.\u201d\n\nBoadicea was silent \u201cThey shall say Mother of Christ, then, if you\nprefer,\u201d Edith said softly. But the next time she came, they said\nMother of God. She made no verbal comment on the amendment, but bent\nand, for the first time, kissed the forehead of the child who gave the\ntitle, tears of joy shining in her eyes.\n\nOn this July day, after taking her seat, and watching the family\narrange themselves to listen, Edith hesitated on what subject she\nshould speak. She had one prepared, but presently concluded to change\nit.\n\n\u201cI will tell you what baptism is to-day,\u201d she said; and then gave them\na clear and simple explanation of the sacrament.\n\nJoe sat on a low stool, with a child in his arms, tears dropping down\nhis cheek now and then, as he glanced from the speaker to his sick\nchild. Mrs. Patten\u2019s face showed only a quiet endurance.\n\n\u201cSo necessary is baptism,\u201d Edith concluded, her voice slightly\ntremulous, \u201cthat even a baby must not die without it. If one should be\nin danger of death, any person who knows how can baptize it.\u201d             318\n\nShe said no more, but, after distributing some little presents to the\nchildren, as her custom was, and sitting by the baby a few minutes,\nwent home. The mother was very pale. She sat looking at her child, and\nseemed indisposed to speak. There was even a sort of coldness in her\nmanner when she took leave of her visitor.\n\nThe children went out, and looked after the lady as long as they could\nsee her, then gathered in a whispering group about the door. They\nfelt, rather than knew, the impending sorrow. Joe went, stool in hand,\nand sat down by his wife. Her lips began to tremble. She was only a\nwoman, poor soul! and wanted comfort, not only for the grief before\nher, but for the new and terrible fear that had risen up in her heart\nwhile Edith Yorke spoke.\n\n\u201cJoe,\u201d she said unsteadily, \u201cthat girl is very learned. Dr. Martin\ncan\u2019t equal her. She makes everything awfully clear. She leaves no\nhole for you to crawl out. If baptism isn\u2019t what she says, then there\nisn\u2019t any sense in baptism.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d sighed Joe, \u201cshe\u2019s a mighty smart gal.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen,\u201d the mother whispered sharply, \u201cif what she says is true,\nwhat\u2019s become of our other children, Joe?\u201d\n\nHe looked up with startled eyes. He had been thinking of their present\nsorrow, not of the past. It is only the mother who for ever carries\nher children in her heart.\n\n\u201cThere are three children gone, Joe,\u201d she said imploringly.\n\nHe dropped his eyes, and considered anxiously, not so much the fate of\nhis lost children as the fact that Sally looked to him for help. A\nshallow head goes with a shallow heart, and his first thought was\nmerely how he should evade the weight of his wife\u2019s dependence.\n\n\u201cOh! you broken reed!\u201d she exclaimed, with suppressed passion.\n\nThus apostrophized, Joe became desperate, and that desperation\nimparted to him an air of unwonted decision and authority.\n\n\u201cI tell you what it is, Sally,\u201d he said, \u201cthese rules and regulations\nare very well for learned folks, and they\u2019re to blame if they don\u2019t\nkeep \u2018em. But I don\u2019t believe that the Lord is going to punish us nor\nour young ones for what we don\u2019t know nothing about. He knows well\nenough that we\u2019d a had \u2018em, every soul of \u2018em, baptized, if we\u2019d a\nthought he wanted us to. I\u2019m sure I don\u2019t begrudge the young ones\nbeing baptized. So don\u2019t you believe, Sally, but he\u2019ll sly \u2018em in\nsomehow, poor little creters! Why, do you s\u2019pose that, while we were\nsitting here and crying over our dead babies, and saying, \u2018The Lord\ngave, and the Lord hath taken away: blessed be the name of the Lord,\u2019\nthat just at that time he\u2019d got \u2018em out of sight somewhere, and was\npinching on \u2018em and hurting on \u2018em for his own amusement, with their\nscared little faces looking up at him? It don\u2019t stand to reason,\nSally.\u201d\n\nThe first tears she had shed started from the mother\u2019s eyes and ran\ndown her cheeks. \u201cJoe,\u201d she said gratefully, \u201cyou\u2019ve got some gumption\nin you, after all.\u201d\n\nEdith went home that day with a troubled heart. Two or three times on\nthe way she stopped, having half a mind to turn back, but did not. She\nwas too agitated to keep quiet or to eat. One thought filled her mind:\na soul just slipping away from earth waited on the threshold till she\nshould open for it the gate of heaven. The thought was overpowering.\n\nIn the afternoon, Mrs. Yorke and Melicent went to see the sick child,     319\ncarrying everything they thought might be needed. Edith had sent for\nthe doctor again, and he came while they were there, and accompanied\nthem home. She listened to their talk, and heard them say that the\nchild could not live more than twenty-four hours longer. They spoke\nkindly, and they had acted kindly, yet it all jarred terribly on her.\nOf the highest interest at stake, of the miraculous possibility that\nshe saw, they knew nothing. Dared she wait?\n\nAfter tea her resolution was taken. She came down-stairs, and found\nCarl pacing to and fro at the foot of the terrace. He threw the end of\nhis cigar away as she approached him, but did not take any further\nnotice of her till it became evident that she wanted him.\n\n\u201cCarl,\u201d she said, \u201cI want you to go over to the Pattens\u2019 with me.\u201d\n\n\u201cCertainly!\u201d\n\nHe did not annoy her with questions, nor exclamations, nor\nexpostulations; he simply and promptly started. They avoided the\nfamily in going. When one is in suspense, it is distressing to have to\nexplain to those who cannot help and do not understand the need.\n\n\u201cI am going to baptize the baby, if they will let me,\u201d Edith said,\nwhen they entered the wood.\n\nHe only answered, \u201cYes!\u201d He knew enough of Catholic doctrine to\nunderstand the importance which she attached to the ceremony.\n\nThe sun had gone down in a splendor of rose-color, and all the forest\nwas steeped with it. The silver stems of the birches flickered like\nrubies, and all the streams and springs blushed as if they had newly\nbeen changed to wine for some great marriage feast. A brook ran toward\nthem all the way beside their path, like a breathless messenger bidding\nthem hasten at every step. Then that airy flood of light ebbed down\nthe west, and left a new moon stranded there, and stars sprinkled all\nthrough the blue. When they came out into the clearing, it was deep\ntwilight. The cabin window shone out red through the dusk, and from\nthe open door a lurid path of light stretched across the garden-plot\nand plunged into the woods opposite.\n\nLike most people who live in the woods, the family kept early hours,\nbut to-night none of them had gone to bed, nor were the beds prepared\nfor them. The children were huddled together near the fireplace,\nwhispering, and casting frightened glances to where their father and\nmother crouched on the floor beside the cradle, in which lay their\ndying babe. They had no lamps nor candles, but a pine-knot, fixed in\nthe fireplace, sent a volume of inky smoke up chimney, and made a\ncrimson illumination in the room. In that light every face shone like\na torch.\n\nThe sick child lay in a stupor, sometimes holding its breath so long\nthat the mother started and caught it up. Thus partially recalled, it\nbreathed slowly again. There was no sound in the room but that low\nbreathing, and the hissing of the flame in the chimney.\n\nBut presently there was a sound outside of steps coming nearer, and as\nthey looked at the door Edith appeared on the threshold, all her\nwhiteness of face, dress, and hands changed to pink in the light, as\nCharity might look hastening on her errand. Her eyes were wide-open\nand startled; her hair, which had fallen, caught in the low bough of a\ntree as they came, was drawn over her left shoulder, and twisted about\nher arm.\n\nAfter the pause of an instant, she came swiftly in, and knelt by the      320\ncradle, leaving Carl standing in the doorway.\n\n\u201cThank God! I am in time,\u201d she exclaimed. \u201cI have come, you dear\nparents, to baptize this child, if you will permit me. You were not to\nblame for the others, because you did not know. But now you know.\nConsent quickly; for it is almost gone!\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, yes!\u201d said the mother. \u201cMake haste!\u201d\n\nEdith called the children, and made them kneel about the cradle, with\ntheir hands folded, palm to palm, and she scarcely noticed that Carl\ncame in and knelt behind them.\n\n\u201cI am so anxious to do it rightly,\u201d she said, with one swift glance\nround the circle. \u201cI never did it before, but it is very simple. I am\nvery unworthy, and am afraid. All of you must say an Our Father for\nme.\u201d\n\nEdith put a crucifix in the father\u2019s hands, and, as he held it up,\nbowed herself, and kissed the floor before it. Then she lighted a wax\ncandle she had brought, and gave it to the mother to hold. Lastly, she\nknelt by the head of the cradle, and poured out a little vase of holy\nwater.\n\n\u201cWhat is the child\u2019s name?\u201d she asked, quite calm by this time.\n\nMr. and Mrs. Patten looked at each other. There had been many\ndiscussions between them on the subject, and at this moment neither of\nthem could call to mind a single desirable name which had not been\nappropriated by their children, living or dead.\n\n\u201cI would like to name him for my father,\u201d Edith said. And they\nconsented.\n\nThe words were spoken, then Edith leaned quickly, with a triumphant\nsmile, and kissed the new-made saint, and whispered something to it.\n\nThe child had been lying in that stupor for several hours, but at her\nwhisper he opened his eyes, and fixed them in a solemn and steady gaze\non her face. There was something in the look significant and\nunchildlike; and, so looking at her, he calmly died. Only a sigh, and\nthe lids half-drooped, that was all on earth. But who shall say what\nit was in heaven?\n\nIt was quite dark when the two went home again. The sultry air was\nstill, and perfumed with sweet fern and wild violets, and the brook\nran along with them now with a sound like a child talking to itself.\nThey walked hand in hand, guided by that sound.\n\n\u201cI am very, very happy!\u201d said Edith.\n\nCarl said nothing, but stopped short.\n\n\u201cHave you lost the track?\u201d she asked.\n\nThere was still a moment of silence, then he said in a stifled voice,\n\u201cI have found it again.\u201d\n\nPoor Carl! his finding of that path was heroic. For an instant, a\nflower-wreathed wicket had seemed to swing across his way, and a path\nof delight to lead from it. He closed it, and walked on.\n\nAfter a minute, Edith recollected that she had brought a second\ncandle. They stopped and lighted it, then resumed their walk. She held\nthe candle in her right hand, her left she placed in Carl\u2019s again. The\nair was so still that the yellow flame waved only with their motion,\nand the light of it made a halo about them, and brought out leaves and\nflowers, and drooping branches, that shone a moment, then disappeared.\n\nThat ancient forest had arched over many a human group during the\nunknown centuries of its life, dusky hunters in the chase or on the\nwar-trail, pale-faced pioneers, glancing right and left for the savage    321\nfoe, the Catholic missionary, armed only with the crucifix, yet with\nthat weapon and with his pleading tongue conquering the hatchet and\nthe tomahawk, children and youths going a-maying, yet never did it\novershadow a fairer group than this.\n\nLooking down at Edith, Carl renounced the thought of painting her as a\nfairy; he would paint her walking through a dark forest, with a candle\nin her hand. \u201cPerish civilization!\u201d he said suddenly. \u201cI wish there\nwas not a house between here and Massachusetts Bay!\u201d\n\nEdith smiled, but said nothing. She did not speak till, too soon, they\nreached the house. There she stopped to enter by the side door. \u201cI\nwill go in this way,\u201d she said. \u201cI do not wish to speak to any one\nelse to-night. Please tell them what I have done.\u201d\n\nHe was going, when she softly called him back. \u201cAfter he was\nbaptized,\u201d she said hurriedly, \u201cI whispered, and told him to pray for\nyou and me when he reached heaven. Good-night, Carl!\u201d\n\nThe next forenoon Edith went up to her chamber to dress before dinner.\nShe braided her hair, put on a rose-colored lawn, and fastened a\nvelvet ribbon around her throat with the precious carbuncle. She was\nblissfully happy, she scarce knew why. Never had she been conscious of\nsuch delight. \u201cHow sweet, how beautiful is life!\u201d she said to herself.\n\u201cThanks, dear Lord! I am so happy!\u201d\n\nShe looked smilingly over her shoulder toward the door, for Clara had\ncome running up the stairs and burst into her room.\n\n\u201cEdith,\u201d she said breathlessly, \u201che has come! Mr. Rowan has come! He\nis down in the parlor with papa, and mamma, and Melicent.\u201d\n\nEdith did not change her position nor say a word. She looked steadily\nat Clara, and waited.\n\n\u201cHe is as handsome as a prince,\u201d her cousin went on with enthusiasm.\n\u201cHe gave me this slip of paper for you. Will you be right down?\u201d\n\n\u201cGo and tell him that I will come down in a minute,\u201d Edith said\nquietly, and still looked at her cousin till she went out of the room\nand shut the door. Then, overcome by a sudden weakness, she dropped on\nher knees.\n\n\u201cI am very glad,\u201d she said solemnly, and lifted her eyes. \u201cI thank\nthee for bringing him safe home again. Help me!\u201d\n\nShe unfolded the slip of paper, and read the line it contained: \u201cDon\u2019t\ncome down, Edith, if you are going to say no to me.\u201d\n\nShe had never thought of saying no to him.\n\nA minute later she stood in the door of the parlor, where they all\nwere. She was very white, but her lips wore a sweet and resolute\nsmile.\n\nDick came to meet her, his face in a fine flame, and she placed her\nhand in his. \u201cIt is yours, with their consent,\u201d she said.\n\nFor a moment he was unable to speak. He looked at her searchingly, his\neyes full of tears. \u201cAre you willing, Edith?\u201d he asked.\n\n\u201cI am more than willing,\u201d she replied.\n\nHe led her to Mr. and Mrs. Yorke. \u201cI would not dare to ask you for\nsuch a precious gift,\u201d he said, \u201cif God and herself had not already\nbestowed it.\u201d\n\n                          TO BE CONTINUED.\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n                    AN ENGLISHMAN IN CHINA.[78]                           322\n\n\nIn November, 1867, Mr. T. T. Cooper, an English gentleman who\ndescribes himself as a \u201cpioneer of commerce,\u201d undertook an overland\njourney from Shanghai to Calcutta with the hope of discovering some\nshorter and more direct line of communication between India and China\nthan that lying through the province of Su-tchuen and Eastern Thibet,\nthe only route at present open. The undertaking was not a successful\none, Mr. Cooper having been stopped and imprisoned at Weisee-foo, in\nthe province of Yunnan, in July of the following year. This detention\nwas the work of the Thibetan lamas, who have no desire for a free\ntrade which will interfere with their monopolies, and who are, as a\nmatter of course, violently opposed to the introduction of a religion\nwhich will weaken their own hold upon the people. Mr. Cooper, although\nan English Protestant who was contented to describe himself on his\ntravels as a disciple of Confucius, and who took pains to inform the\nlamas that he could readily sympathize with their dislike of foreign\ninnovations in religious matters, did not fail to share the effects of\nthat distrust of foreigners which is so carefully kept alive in China\nby the governing classes, the literati, and the priests. While\nimprisoned at Weisee-foo, his interpreter, a Chinese Catholic,\noverheard the following conversation between two Mandarins, one of\nwhom was Mr. Cooper\u2019s jailer, which was, to say the least of it, not\nreassuring:\n\n\u201cJust as Philip took his place under the window, Tien asked the Atenze\nMandarin if he had seen the foreigner who had passed through Atenze on\nhis way to Tali-foo, adding, \u2018We have him here in the Yamun.\u2019 His\nguest replied, \u2018No; the cursed barbarian! what is he? I heard he was\nwriting all the time he was in my town, and drawing the country. The\nson of a dog, too, writes with a pen that requires no ink. I suppose\nhe has come to see the country; and his people will come to take it\nby-and-by. You have got him here; why don\u2019t you kill him?\u2019 To this my\nfriend Tien replied, \u2018Why, it\u2019s no use to kill him; he has no money.\nWe have searched him; he has nothing; and now we are considering what\nto do with him.\u2019 When Philip had got thus far, he was so completely\noverwhelmed that it was several minutes before he could proceed: when\nhe had recovered a little, he went on to relate what the Atenze\nMandarin said in reply. The ruffian evidently hated foreigners, for he\nsaid, \u2018Oh! kill him. You dispose of him; and when I return from the\nfight, I will kill those sons of dogs, the missionaries on the\nLan-tsan-kiang: they are fast converting the Lu-tsu, and they will\nvery soon be masters of the country, and we shall be killed; so kill\nthem all, I say.\u2019\u201d\n\nA day or two later, our traveller, who seems to be very plucky and\nfull of courage, managed to effect his escape, but only to retrace his\nsteps to Shanghai. His account of his travels is most entertaining,       323\nand as it contains a great deal which will be interesting to the\ngeneral reader, as well as much which is especially so to Catholics,\nwe propose to make copious extracts from it. The book itself has not\nbeen reprinted here, and the English edition is so expensive that it\nis hardly likely to be as generally read as its merits deserve.\n\nThe project of undertaking this long and perilous journey had\nsuggested itself to our traveller\u2019s mind so long ago as 1862, but\nvarious circumstances rendered it impracticable to begin it until\n1867, when the promised support of influential Shanghai merchants made\nMr. Cooper again cast about him for ways of surmounting the still\nremaining difficulties. These were the well-known jealousy manifested\nby Chinese officials toward strangers; the wild tribes dwelling in the\nmountains; utter ignorance of the language of the country; and the\ndanger of carrying so large a sum of money as would be necessary for\nthe expenses of the journey. After a month of perplexity, Mr. Cooper\nconcluded to address himself to M. Lamonier, the procurator of the\nCatholic missions at Shanghai. \u201cI knew,\u201d he says, \u201cthat the posts of\nthe French missionaries extended in an unbroken chain to beyond the\nwestern border of China; and I felt convinced that only by their help\ncould I hope to pass through the empire. M. Lamonier, ever ready, as\nare all the Catholic missionaries, to forward all useful projects,\nsoon dispelled my anxiety about the carriage of specie, for he\narranged to give me a letter of credit for six hundred taels (\u00a3180,\nthe sum he considered sufficient for travelling expenses), addressed\nto the mission stations in Yunnan, Sz-chuan, and Eastern Thibet; so\nthat it would not be needful to carry a large sum in silver, until\nafter passing beyond their posts. He also proposed a feasible plan for\nsurmounting the difficulty of the language. A party of young\nmissionaries were expected to arrive from France toward the end of the\nyear; if I accompanied them to Sz-chuan, I could hire a house in some\nvillage containing a mission station, and, under the protection of the\nmissionaries, set to work and acquire a sufficient mastery of the\nlanguage. This arrangement would prolong my journey by six months; but\nthe delay was unimportant, so long as the difficulty of the language\nwas got over. And thus, before leaving M. Lamonier, the two great\nobstacles which seemed for a time to render my journey impossible were\ndisposed of.\u201d\n\nA part of this plan, however, was not destined to fulfilment. The\nFrench consul at Hankou, whose dignity had been touched by some\nremarks made upon him in the Hankou _Times_ by its English editor,\nresolved to avenge himself by preventing our Englishman from availing\nhimself of the services of the missionaries, and compelled them to\nleave Hankou without him. The French consul-general at Shanghai,\nVicomte Brenier de Montmorend, on being appealed to, found means to\nsoothe his subordinate\u2019s ruffled temper, and although he lost the\npromised escort of the young missionaries, Father de Carli, the head\nof the missions at Hankou, obviated this difficulty by providing him\nwith two native Christians to serve as interpreter and guide. These\nwere both trustworthy men, who joined him rather for the sake of the\nmissionaries than for any liking for the journey, but who, for that\nreason, served him so much the more faithfully. One of them, George\nPhillips, whose name Mr. Cooper contracted into Philip, for               324\nconvenience\u2019s sake, was the eldest son of a family which had been\nChristians for several generations. \u201cHis superior education rendered\nhim, save in dress and manner, quite different to ordinary Chinamen,\nwhose natural superstition and prejudice were replaced by\nintelligence, strengthened by the study of European philosophy and\ntheology, while a knowledge of the Latin, English, and Chinese\nlanguages made the term of interpreter in his case no empty title.\nSuch was my interpreter, who proved, as I expected, a useful servant\nand intelligent companion.\u201d\n\nHaving procured the services of these men, however, Mr. Cooper found\nit impossible to induce them to start from home until after the\nChristmas holidays were over; so that it was not until the 4th of\nJanuary, 1868, that he finally left Hankou for the interior. He had\npreviously taken the advice of the English secretary of legation at\nPekin to conform himself in all respects to the line of conduct\npursued by the missionaries, and had, during his month of enforced\ninaction, been trying to accustom himself to the pigtail and\npetticoats in which he was to introduce himself to the Chinese public.\nHe had also been obliged to relinquish the idea of making scientific\nobservations while on his journey, in order to avoid shocking the\ninveterate prejudices of the people against the use of instruments for\nthat purpose. Even in keeping a daily record of his travels, he found\nit necessary to be constantly on his guard against their suspicious\ncuriosity. One amusing instance of his caution in this respect,\ncharacteristic alike of our traveller and of his friendly enemy, is\nworth quoting:\n\n\u201cRound the fire of the little courier hut where we put up for the\nnight, we were joined by a lama, who was, he said, _en route_ for\nBathang. Since the unwelcome addition of the soldier spies to our\nparty, it had become necessary for me to wait till all were asleep, to\nwrite up my journal. I was hard at work about midnight, when the lama\nreturned to the room, pretending to have left his prayer-book behind;\nand seeing me engaged in writing, he became very curious to know what\nI was doing. Had I owned to recording a simple narrative of the day\u2019s\njourney, he would have reported that I was taking notes of the country\nfor some sinister purpose, so I replied that I was writing my prayers,\na ceremony which I performed every night. This is a very common\noccupation of the lamas themselves, but he was surprised that a\nmerchant should write prayers; so I told him that I always recited\nthem after they were written, and would commence as soon as I had\nfinished. He waited, and I soon commenced to read my journal over in a\nmonotone like that in which the lamas recite their litanies. After\nreading thus for nearly half an hour, I stopped and asked my friend to\nrecite his prayers for my benefit, promising to pay him for the\nservice--and off he started and kept it up without ceasing until\ndaylight next morning, when he awoke me, and received his fee of one\nrupee. He declared that I must belong to the Yellow religion, but I\nassured him to the contrary, merely saying that my religion much\nresembled his own. He was evidently puzzled, but pleased at my having\nmade use of his services as a priest, and begged me to allow him to\nkeep under my escort to Bathang.\u201d\n\nHis inability to serve the interests of science was perhaps not a\ntrouble of a nature to be very seriously felt by our traveller, whose\nchief object in undertaking his journey was a commercial one, and         325\nwhose quick perceptions and readiness to adapt himself to\ncircumstances were a fair guarantee that he would neither run\nunnecessary risks nor let any available source of information pass\nunexplored. His book, which is very free from anything like unpleasant\nself-consciousness, shows him, notwithstanding, to have plenty of\nEnglish pluck and determination, accompanied by a very un-English\nfreedom from prejudice. One could find it in one\u2019s heart to wish that\nin passing through scenery so impressive as that of Eastern Thibet, he\nmight have added to his other good qualities as a narrator something\nmore nearly approaching artistic perception than he anywhere exhibits.\nThe absence of anything of the kind has, however, the effect of making\nhis narrative singularly free from any appearance of conventional\nbook-making--a result which is very like a perfect compensation.\n\nAt Sha-su, which he reached toward the middle of January, after a week\nor more of rather unpleasant boating experience, Mr. Cooper made his\nfirst acquaintance with real Chinese society, which he describes very\nwell, and with some characteristic reflections:\n\n\u201cAfter breakfast, I paid a visit to the Catholic mission agent,\nCheesien-sin by name, a wealthy merchant engaged in an extensive trade\nwith Sz-chuan, with whom I had to arrange about funds for our journey\nto Chung Ching. We were shown into a little room next the\ncounting-house, where we found several Christians, merchants from\nChung Ching, smoking their pipes, each with his cup of tea on a small\ntable before him. As soon as I seated myself, a little boy placed a\ntea-cup before me, and, throwing in a pinch of fragrant tea, poured\nin boiling water from a large kettle, which he took from a little\nstand over a charcoal fire burning in an iron brazier in the centre of\nthe room; having thus helped me to tea, he took my long Chinese pipe,\nand, filling it with tobacco, handed it to me with a light, and then\ntook up his place behind my chair. Nothing could exceed the quiet\npoliteness and quickness with which this little fellow served me; to\nevery one in the room I was a perfect stranger and a foreigner, yet,\nbeing in a house of business, no distinction was made between me and\nany of the Chinese present.... After waiting about half an hour, the\nmerchant came from the counting-house, and, saluting me very\ncourteously, apologized for having kept me waiting, and after a few\nremarks on the crops and weather, inquired my business. On learning\nthe object of my visit, he appeared quite pleased, and expressed\nhimself delighted to be able to do anything for a friend of the\nfathers, and, leading me into his office, he paid me over the sum I\nrequired, merely taking from me a receipt for the amount. We then went\nback to the waiting-room, where he introduced me to several of the\nChung Ching merchants, and explained to his guests that I was a\nforeign merchant undertaking a great journey to open up commerce, and\ncomplimented me on my courage in starting alone on so great an\nenterprise. We all sat smoking and drinking tea for nearly two hours,\nwhen I rose to go; but my host said that dinner was just ready, and he\nwould be glad if I would join himself and guests, apologizing at the\nsame time for his homely fare, saying that, if he had known I was\ncoming, I should have had a proper dinner.\n\n\u201cI was so charmed with the manner of this Chinese gentleman--for such\nin bearing he really was--that I accepted his invitation, and sat down    326\nagain; and in a few minutes all the other merchants, except two young\nmen, who were permanent guests, left, and a serving-man then laid out\nthe table, placing a pair of ivory chop-sticks, tipped with silver,\nfor each of us, and brought in the dinner, consisting of fish-soup,\nboiled and fried fish, stewed ducks, mutton, and fowl. We took our\nseats--the host last--and were then handed cups (about the size of a\nlarge breakfast-cup) of rice, and in the interval before the soup and\nfish were brought in, baked melon-seeds were placed before us on small\nplates; these we nibbled at for a few minutes, until our host, taking\nhis chop-sticks up, put their points into a plate of fish, and,\nlooking round the table, bowed to us, whereupon we simultaneously\nhelped ourselves, and commenced our meal. I kept up a lively\nconversation on the subject of foreigners and their wonderful\ninventions during the dinner, which I thoroughly enjoyed. When we had\nfinished, we all stood up, holding our chop-sticks by the tips with\nboth hands horizontally in front of our foreheads as a sign of\nthankfulness, and also respect to our host. We then sat down again,\nand little kettles of hot Samshu were brought in, and we commenced to\ndrink wine with each other. The two young merchants soon became very\nloud in my praise, saying that I was quite different to the foreigners\nin Hankou, I was more like a Chinaman; but were very anxious to know\nif I was of the same religion as themselves; and when I told that I\nwas a Christian, repeatedly embraced me, calling me a brother. We sat\nover our Samshu and smoked for a long time, the absence of anything\nlike constraint among us, and the genuine hospitality of our host,\nmaking the hours pass quickly. I felt that I was seeing Chinese life\nfrom a standpoint hitherto unknown to most Europeans, especially\nEnglishmen; and I felt much gratified with this my first admission\ninto the private life of the people whose manners and customs I had\nadopted. During the time I was in the house I saw no females with the\nexception of a servant, nor did I ever in the house of any respectable\nChinaman meet the womankind during the greater part of a year spent\namong this people.... As I was going toward the hotel, I could not\nhelp reflecting on the scene I had just left, so different in all\nrespects from any previous idea I had formed of the Chinese character,\nof which, though I had dwelt for years in their country, I confess\nwith shame, I had until now known nothing. I could not help\ncontrasting the reception my host had given me, a total stranger and a\nforeigner, with that which he would probably have received at my hands\nhad he visited me in Shanghai, when, as is usual with us Englishmen,\nhe would very likely have had to come into my office without the least\npolite encouragement from me, and have transacted his business\nstanding, after which I should probably have dismissed him with a\ngesture of impatience. It seems a great pity that we Englishmen, being\nsuch a great commercial people, do not associate ourselves more with\nthe people amongst whom we trade. In China, we would do wisely to\nremember the old adage which tells us to \u2018do in Rome as the Romans\ndo,\u2019 and to meet the Chinese more on a footing of equality; in fact,\nadopt as much as possible their ways of business, and by this means do\naway with that system of go-betweens which is so detrimental to us in\nall our dealings with the people, of whom we really know nothing. By      327\nbeing brought more in contact with them, we should pick up their\nlanguage, and instead of being at the mercy of that villanous thing\nknown under the name of compradore, we should at once preserve our\ndignity, and enter into more pleasant and profitable relations with a\npeople whose closer acquaintance is better worth cultivating than we\nin our national insularity are prone to believe.\u201d\n\nSuch pleasant experiences, which were often repeated, were not always,\nhowever, the order of the day when our traveller met the individual\npopularly known as the \u201cheathen Chinee.\u201d At the mission-stations, or\nwherever he encountered isolated Christians, he received always the\nmost cordial hospitality, since even the jealous Chinaman, in becoming\nCatholic, becomes also cosmopolitan.\n\nAt Chung Ching, where Monseigneur Desfleches sent a swell Chinese\nmerchant to be his escort about the city, Mr. Cooper visited a\nnewly-built and very beautiful Taouist temple, belonging to a sect\ndiffering widely from the Buddhists, and which he describes as\nrepresenting the ancient polytheism of the country, as reformed and\nengrafted with a peculiar theosophy of Laotse, the great rival of\nConfucius. Here also he assisted at daybreak on a Sunday morning at\nthe sacrifice of the Mass, served by a Chinese priest and Chinese\nacolytes, and listened to a Chinese sermon. The devout behavior of the\ncongregation, many of whom gathered around him after the Mass was\nover, and, on learning that he was not a Catholic, naturally expressed\nfervent hopes that he might soon become one, made a great impression\nupon our traveller\u2019s mind. He could not, he says, avoid being\ninfluenced by them, nor help offering up a silent prayer for the\nsuccess of the Catholic missions in China. He finds the present power\nof these missions a \u201cmost striking instance of the inutility of\ncoercion directed to restrain freedom of mind in religion. The fearful\npersecutions that assailed the missionaries and their converts during\nthe eighteenth century, failed altogether to arrest the spread of\nCatholic Christianity, which now, but a hundred years later, numbers\nits adherents by hundreds of thousands, to be found in all the\nprovinces of the empire.\u201d\n\nApparently both the missions and the missionaries impressed him much;\nand he gives a lengthy account of them, prefacing it with the remark\nthat whoever deems it irrelevant is at liberty to skip it. In his\njudgment, as in that of every intelligent observer, it is the literati\nand the governing classes who are the promoters of all the\npersecutions of the converts--the people themselves are neither so\njealous of foreigners nor so attached to paganism as is often\nsupposed.\n\nThe converts are principally recruited from the well-to-do middle\nclasses, although there are in the villages many Christian communities\ncomposed of the industrious peasantry. When Mr. Cooper was in China,\nthe missions were enjoying perfect toleration, but from his\nobservation of the marked dislike of the Christians displayed by the\nofficials and the literati, he was apprehensive that this apparent\npeace might be at any moment exchanged for all the perils of\npersecution--an apprehension which, as all the world knows, has since\nbeen most fearfully realized. We extract a few passages from his\naccount of the missions, as recording the impressions of a candid\nobserver as to the success of a work of which he was yet capable of\nlamenting that the devoted men who labor in it \u201care not the apostles\nof a simpler and purer faith.\u201d Yet when he meets \u201capostles\u201d of what       328\nhe supposes to be a \u201csimpler and purer faith,\u201d he can hardly preserve\na decent gravity in contemplating either their methods or their\nresults. \u201cBy their fruits ye shall know them\u201d is naturally the last\nreflection suggested to the mind of a Protestant when he considers\nmissionary work. The application of the text would be so speedily\nfatal to his Protestantism that the instinct of self-preservation\nkeeps him from making it:\n\n\u201cThe _Soci\u00e9t\u00e9 des Missions Etrang\u00e8res_, which from its headquarters in\nParis directs the affairs of this mission, is most careful in the\nselection and training of the candidates for missionary life. As their\nwork lies much among the wealthy and educated, though the poor and\nignorant are by no means neglected, every missionary sent to Sz-chuan\nis specially educated for the purpose of meeting the Chinese literati\non equal terms. They land in China generally as young and\nnewly-ordained priests, under vows by which the rest of their lives is\ndedicated to the Sz-chuan Mission. Once having entered upon their\nwork, they never abandon it, nor return to their native country;\nindeed, it is impossible for them to do so, for I have good reasons\nfor stating that any recreant who may seek, in violation of his\nengagements, to quit the country, is certain to be apprehended by the\nMandarins and sent back to the jurisdiction of the mission. This has\nan apparent connection with the edict of Khang-hi, which accorded\ntoleration to those missionaries only who would swear never to return\nto Europe. The young missionary on entering China strips himself of\nhis nationality; he shaves his head, and adopts the Chinese costume,\nand conforms in all respects to the Chinese mode of life. His first\ntwo years are spent either at one of the principal mission stations or\nat some out-station, in close attendance on an old and experienced\nfather, under whose care he systematically studies the language and\nthe manners of the people to whose service he has devoted his life. He\nis also trained in the working of the mission, and, as soon as he is a\nproficient in the language, is appointed to a permanent post under\ngeneral orders from the bishop of the district to which he has been\nsent from Paris. It can easily be imagined that a mission numbering\nits converts by tens of thousands, and carrying its labors over such a\nvast extent of country as Western China and Eastern Thibet, must be a\nwell-organized institution systematically administered. Taking\nadvantage of the division of all the provinces into districts, each\ndistrict is worked by the mission with more or less activity, as the\ndisposition of the people will allow. The apostolic bishop resident at\nChung Ching exercises a metropolitan authority over four other\nbishops, who reside at Cheutu and Swi-foo, in Sz-chuan, Yunnan-foo in\nYunnan, and in Kwei-cheu, and Bishop Chauveau at Ta-tsian-loo. The\nlatter has charge of the mission stations of Eastern Thibet\nestablished at Bathang, Yengin, and Tz-coo, on the western banks of\nthe Lan-tsan-kiang. I was informed that there were, in 1868, three\nhundred French missionaries, besides native priests and catechists,\nengaged in the missions working in the above provinces. The pay of a\nmissionary varies from one hundred taels[79] per mensem--the salary of\na bishop--to twenty taels, the scanty stipend of the simple fathers.\nOut of this they provide themselves with everything. At small\nout-stations, of course, the people give many presents of food, but       329\neven then the pay is so trifling, compared with the salaries drawn by\nProtestant missionaries, that one can only wonder how these French\nmissionaries manage to exist, and it is only when their self-denying\nand abstemious mode of life is witnessed that an adequate idea can be\nformed of real missionary work.\n\n\u201cBy a strict system of reports, coming from every missionary in charge\nof a district through his bishop to the metropolitan bishop at Chung\nChing, the affairs of the mission are administered with the regularity\nof a well-organized government. Closely observing the Chinese customs,\nthe bishops assume the title of Tajen, \u2018Excellency,\u2019 and the fathers,\naccording to their precedence in the mission, Ta-low-ya, \u2018Great\nElder,\u2019 and Low-ya, \u2018Elder.\u2019 Every convert coming into the presence of\na father is obliged to bend the knee, a custom which a recent able\nFrench writer declares he has himself heard the Christians complain of\nas unbecoming. In exacting this apparently slavish mark of homage from\ntheir flock, the fathers imitate the magistrates, and by this means,\nas well as by the influence they naturally acquire in the direction of\ncivil affairs among their converts, they very probably excite the\njealousy and hatred of the governing classes. As an illustration of\nthis, I may quote the words of an old and experienced father: \u2018We are\nnot persecuted on religious grounds, but on political, because they\nfear our influence over the people.\u2019 From my own experience of the\nChinese, I must say that (however repugnant to our Western ideas) the\nexaction of the utmost respect from their converts is absolutely\nnecessary to the maintenance of the religious authority of the clergy,\nfor the Chinese, as yet, know no intermediate step between servile\nsubmission and insolent independence; and, when compared with that of\nany Protestant mission in the world, their success is so wonderfully\ngreat, that I feel inclined to give them the full credit of knowing\nfrom experience what is best for the interest of their mission.... The\neducation of the young is a special object of care; at all the\nprincipal mission stations there are separate schools for boys and\ngirls. The boys are taught to read and write Chinese and Latin,\nbesides geography and other useful information, which tends to dispel\ntheir Chinese prejudices. Promising candidates for the priesthood are\nusually sent to Macao and Hong-Kong, and occasionally to Rome, to\nreceive their professional education. The girls are taught to read and\nwrite Chinese, and are instructed in sewing, etc. At Chung Ching and\nCheutu there are boarding-schools, where young girls are educated till\nthey are marriageable. These pupils are eagerly sought for by the\nconverts in marriage, and are reputed to make excellent wives. The\nnative Christians, as a rule, are remarkable for their good character;\ntheir houses are distinguished by their superior cleanliness and\norder.... I cannot but record how forcibly I was impressed by their\ndevout attention to the offices of their religion, and this is not\nmerely superficial--they are staunch adherents of their faith, but few\nbeing ever found to apostatize even under the pressure of persecution;\nand having myself witnessed the beneficial effects of their labors, I\nconclude with wishing the utmost success to the pious and laborious\nagents whose self-denial has been rewarded by such extraordinary\nresults.\u201d\n\nOn reaching Ta-tsian-loo, at that time the headquarters of Bishop\nChauveau, to whom Mr. Cooper gratefully records his many obligations,     330\nand whom he calls the ablest man and kindest friend he found in\nWestern China, he made acquaintance with some of the Thibetan lamas,\nand visited their lamasery, of which he gives an interesting account.\nThe chief lama paid him a visit at his hotel, and, as he showed a good\ndeal of curiosity concerning his intentions, Mr. Cooper proceeded to\ndefine his position by remarking that he had heard that the lamas were\naverse to French missionaries entering their central kingdom, and\nadded that he was not surprised that a great religious country like\nThibet should object to the introduction of a new religion. The lama,\nunused to the easy way in which a travelled Englishman can carry his\nreligion, was amazed, but on learning that Mr. Cooper was not a\nFrenchman, but professed a different faith from theirs, being in fact\na simple disciple of Confucius, quite indifferent to new creeds, and\ndisposed to look with friendly eyes upon all religions whatsoever, he\nbecame at once more cordial, invited him to the lamasery, warned him\nof a conspiracy against his liberty, and cautioned him to avoid\nidentifying himself in any way with the Catholic missionaries. Mr.\nCooper\u2019s return call upon his new friend was not in all respects\npleasant:\n\n\u201cCrossing the courtyard, the lama led me up a flight of stairs into\nhis room, which differed from those occupied by the other lamas only\nin its furniture and superior cleanliness. The other rooms were dirty,\nand contained nothing save a small stove in the centre of the floor,\nand a large wooden bucket, somewhat like an attenuated churn, and\ncontaining the everlasting butter-tea of the Thibetans. My host\u2019s\nroom, however, had in it several chairs of Chinese make, and round\nthe stove was spread a thick woollen carpet, on which I was invited to\nsquat. Having comfortably seated myself, a youth attired in lama robes\nbrought in silver cups, one of which my host filled with butter-tea,\nand, as an especial mark of hospitality, broke off from a huge pat of\nrancid butter a piece as large as his fist, and put it into my cup,\nwhich he politely handed to me; then, filling his cup in the same way,\nhe invited me to drink with him. Good manners obliged me to drink, and\nI succeeded in swallowing a mouthful of the greasy mess with\nwell-feigned pleasure, which, my host observing, nodded his head, and,\nbending gracefully forward with a flourish, stirred round the piece of\nbutter in my cup with his little finger, and again pressed me to\ndrink. I would have given worlds to have been spared this second\ntrial; but, calling up all my resolution, I made another gulp, and\nhastily relighted my pipe, while my hospitable host sipped his melted\nbutter with as much gusto as an alderman would his full-bodied port.\n\n\u201cExpressing a wish to view the lamasery, I was shown over it by the\nlama, and visited the chapel or temple, where he daily offered his\nprayers to the Grand Lama, as he said; meaning, I presume, Buddha. It\nwas a superb little place. At one end a railing, richly ornamented and\ngilded, fenced off intruders from a gilded image of Buddha, about five\nfeet high, sitting in a contemplative posture, enveloped in a white\ndrapery of silk gauze. Round the four walls were rows of niches, like\npigeon-holes, about a foot square, in each of which was a small Buddha\nof solid gold, about two inches high. There could not have been less\nthan a hundred of these images, and my first impression was that they     331\nwere only gilt; but the lama pointed them out to me as gold, and\nseveral of them which I handled were made of the precious metal.... I\nlearned from Bishop Chauveau that before the Chinese conquest the\nlamas used to marry, but that the Chinese, fearing the power of the\nsacerdotal caste, procured an order from Lh\u00e1ssa enforcing celibacy on\nall lamas. Notwithstanding this, at the present time, out of the\npopulation of the three kingdoms of Thibet, more than one-third are\nlamas. It may be imagined, therefore, what a power the priesthood has\nover the people. In almost every family one or more of the sons are\nlamas from compulsion. In a family of, say, four sons, the chief lama\nof the district will generally insist upon two becoming lamas, and, at\nthe age of between twelve and fourteen, the boys are taken to the\nlamasery, where they are educated, and, when grown up, admitted into\nthe priesthood. If the parents object to give up their sons to the\npriesthood, the threat of an anathema from the lips of the chief lama\nor the grand lama at Lh\u00e1ssa, is sufficient to overcome all opposition;\nthus the ranks of the priesthood are constantly recruited and their\npower strengthened. The population, owing to this, is gradually\nlessening, and the lay people are the mere slaves of the lamas, who\nlive in luxurious idleness, for each lamasery possesses enormous\nestates, as well as the revenues drawn from the lay population in the\nshape of tithes on produce, both of cattle and grain.\u201d\n\nAt Bathang, which our traveller visited in May, 1868, he made still\nfurther acquaintance with the lamas, but seems to have found no cause\nto form a more favorable opinion of them. The lamasery which he\ndescribes, and the town of Bathang itself, have since been destroyed,\nas readers of the _Annals of the Propagation of the Faith_ will\nremember, by an earthquake which occurred on the 11th of April, 1870.\nThe valley of Bathang seemed to Mr. Cooper a sort of little Eden, by\nreason of its great fertility and beauty. The town contained,\naccording to him, some 6,000 inhabitants, including the lamas, who\nlived just outside it. Bishop Chauveau, however, whose information is\nof course more accurate, rates them at 8,000 or 9,000. Of these at\nleast 3,000 were killed by the earthquake, including 430 of the lamas.\nOne of these men had for some time been prophesying some fearful\ncalamity as a judgment from the gods upon the frequent conversions\nfrom lamanism, and he induced the people to renew some of their\nheathenish practices, and it was during these performances that the\ntown was destroyed, and the prophet himself killed. None of our\nmissionaries were injured, and the ill fate of the lamas and their\nlamasery has had the fortunate effect of making the people look with\nstill greater disfavor upon them. The gods, they say, seem to be\ngetting tired of the lamas. Mr. Cooper being admitted as witness\nagainst them, such a disposition on the part of their deities would\nappear to be only natural:\n\n\u201cMy arrival at the gates of the lamasery caused a great hubbub.\nHundreds of lamas swarmed on the flat roof of the buildings which\ncomposed the square block enclosed by a high wall, while numbers\nhurried to and fro through the courts and passages in a state of great\nexcitement. Dismounting outside the gate, I left my pony in charge of\nthe gatekeeper, and entered. Scarcely, however, had I passed the inner\ngate, when a lama, addressing me in Chinese, inquired my business. I\ninformed him that I was desirous of seeing the building, and, giving      332\nhim my card, desired him to present it to the chief lama, with a\nrequest for permission to view the lamasery. He requested me to remain\nat the gate until his return, and took my message to the chief\nlama.... From where I stood I could see but little of the interior\nbuilding. As much, however, as was visible proved that the fame of the\nBathang Lamasery was justly deserved. In the centre of the block of\nbuildings, the roof of the sacred temple was plainly visible, its\nmassive gold covering flashing and gleaming in the sunlight with\ndazzling brilliancy. On the roofs, and, indeed, everywhere, the place\nwas literally alive with roosters, which kept up an incessant crowing,\nblending in a chorus with the chants of the lamas. These birds are\nsacred to Buddha, and number, I was told, more than a thousand. None\nare ever killed, and their ranks are constantly swelled by the\ndonations of the country people, who bring the chickens to the\nlamasery as religious offerings. The birds are all capons, and, like\nthe lamas, live a life of celibacy. Not a single hen is allowed to\ncome within the building. Everything in the sacred edifice is\ndedicated to the worship of Buddha, and supposed to be free from the\ncontamination of the outer world.\n\n\u201cI noticed several nuns about, with shaven heads, but dressed in the\nordinary garb of Thibetan women, with this difference, that the color\nand material of their dress were the same as those of the priestly\nrobes of green stuff. These nuns are the abject slaves of the lamas,\nperforming all the drudgery of the house in common with youthful\nnovices or deacons. They, however, in the outer world enjoy, like the\nlamas, a superior social position, and command considerable respect\nfrom both sexes of the lay people. They do not shut themselves up\nentirely in lamaseries, like cloistered nuns of the Romish religion,\nbut often live with their families, and work at the household duties\nand in the fields. These nuns, like the priests, profess the strictest\nchastity, dedicating themselves entirely to the worship and service of\nBuddha. But, from my own observations, and from the openly expressed\nopinion of the lay inhabitants of Thibet, which I had frequent\nopportunities of hearing, virtue is a thing unknown among the\npriesthood, and the lamaseries are little better than dens of\ndebauchery. Just as I had begun to be impatient at his long absence,\nthe lama returned with a message that my presence was not desired\nwithin the building, as it would unsettle the priests at their\ndevotions, but if I wished to leave an offering in the shape of money\nor anything else, it would be accepted. As this concession on the part\nof the chief lama was meant as an expression of good-will, I gave the\nmessenger a tael of silver, and, with a feeling of disappointment,\nreturned home. I afterward found that I had reason to congratulate\nmyself on my exclusion from the lamasery, as many of its inmates were\nsuffering from small-pox. This fearful disease commits great ravages\namong the Thibetan population; of whom almost every fourth person is\ndisfigured by its effects.... When cases occur in a town, the lamas\ncompel the families attacked to remove to the mountains, and seal up\ntheir houses. Should the sick persons be unable to bear removal, they\nare shut up in the house, all communication with them being\nprohibited, and are left to die or recover, as the case may be.\u201d\n\nIt was in a great measure to the lamas that Mr. Cooper owed the           333\nnon-success of his journey, although, the object of it becoming known,\nthe Chinese government also was interested in preventing its\naccomplishment, since with a new trade route opened to foreign\nenterprise, the existing monopolies would of course be destroyed.\n\u201cNothing,\u201d says Mr. Cooper, \u201cis more contrary to the policy of the\nChinese government and lamas than the introduction of Assam tea. The\nChinese on their part dread the loss of their valuable wholesale\nmonopoly, to maintain which they give the lamas the monopoly of the\nretail supply; who, by this means, hold in absolute subjection the\npeople, to whom tea is a prime necessary of life. The lamas, on their\npart, fear that, with the introduction of British trade, the teachers\nof the new religion would come, and free trade and free thought\ncombined would overthrow their spiritual sway.... I myself was\ndestined both now and in a subsequent journey to experience their\ndetermination to prevent the intrusion of the detested Palin.\u201d\n\nNothing would be easier than to extend our quotations from this\ninteresting traveller, every page of whose book is entertaining. On\nleaving Bathang, the impossibility of inducing a male Thibetan to act\nas a servant had made it necessary for his interpreter to hire an\nelderly female as a cook; but Mr. Cooper, while supposing that he was\nmerely assisting at an impromptu picnic, found himself unexpectedly\nmarried, with all due Thibetan form, to a pretty little maid, who, her\nparents were persuaded, would be an excellent substitute for a\nservant. He soon managed to return her to her relatives, but not until\nafter an amusing compliance with the religious customs of his new\nbride, which we must let him relate. They were passing one of those\ncairns of prayer-stones which the piety of the travelling Thibetans\nerect along the road. No Buddhist passes them without adding a stone\nand muttering a prayer:\n\n\u201cLo-tzung, having contributed her quota of stones and prayers, gave me\nto understand that, in order to secure our future happiness, she must\nhave a couple of Khatah cloths to attach to the flagstaffs, and there\nwas nothing for it but to unpack one of the baggage-animals and get\nout the \u2018scarves of felicity\u2019(?) Having given them to the young lady,\nI was inwardly congratulating myself that now, at least, we should be\nable to continue our march, for the afternoon was wearing, and our\nstation for the night still distant. But my matrimonial embarrassments\nhad not yet ended. It was necessary for me to tie one of the \u2018scarves\nof felicity\u2019 to the flagstaff, and kneel in prayer with my bride. This\nI peremptorily refused to do; but poor Lo-tzung shed such a torrent of\ntears, and informed me with such heart-broken accents that, if I did\nnot do this, we should not be happy, and that she especially would be\nmiserable, that there was nothing for it but to comply. And there, on\nthe summit of a Thibetan mountain, kneeling before a heap of stones,\nmy hand wet with the tears of a daughter of the country, I muttered\ncurses on the fate that had placed me in such a position.\u201d\n\nIt had been Mr. Cooper\u2019s intention to take this little girl along with\nhim to Calcutta, since to cast her off would have given dire offence\nto the Thibetans, and there hand her over to the care of the Catholic\nSisters. The hatred of the lamas, however, pursued him on his journey,\nand, by prohibiting the people from sheltering him or selling him\nfood, they so nearly reduced the party to starvation that Lo-tzung        334\nwas only too glad to leave him and take shelter with an uncle. Later\non, at Weisee-foo, as we have already related, he was imprisoned, and\nnarrowly escaped with his life, only to begin at once to retrace his\nsteps homeward. On reaching Kiating, on his return journey, he met for\nthe first time traces of Protestant missionary work, and tells an\namusing story about it:\n\n\u201cOn the second day, a Chinese Christian called upon me, from whom I\nlearned that a Protestant missionary had visited the city in the early\npart of the year, and had distributed a good many religious books; one\nof which, in the possession of the landlord of the hotel, proved to be\na copy of the New Testament in Chinese. The owner produced the volume,\nand, adjusting his spectacles with a solemn air of wisdom, turned up\nthe passage which runs as follows: \u2018It is easier for a mule [the camel\nin the English version] to pass through the eye of a needle than for a\nrich man to enter the kingdom of heaven.\u2019 Having read these words, he\nlooked over his spectacles at me, and asked in a very contemptuous\nvoice if it was possible for any man to believe such a statement, and\nif foreigners really did believe the statements made in this book? It\nhad been my invariable custom since commencing to travel in China to\navoid religious discussions, and always to proclaim myself a disciple\nof Confucius, so I now replied that I was not a teacher of religion,\nbut only a humble disciple of Con-fu-dzu, but as to the statement\nabout the mule passing through the eye of a needle, I thought I could\nexplain that; and then proceeded to interpret the word \u2018needle\u2019 as\nused in the passage referred to. This somewhat mollified mine host,\nwho remarked that he had no doubt that English teachers found\ngreat difficulty in writing the flowery language, and it would perhaps\nbe as well if they did not write religious books for the Chinese under\nsuch circumstances. When I was alone, I could not but regret that the\npraiseworthy efforts of the missionary in Kiating had not been more\nsuccessful. However, as soon as it becomes safe for Europeans to\ntravel in China, there is little doubt but that the self-denying and\nhard-working Protestant missionaries will enter upon a new and\nextensive field of labor, in which their energy, devotedness, and\nwell-known _pacific_ influence will doubtless win for them, if\nnot success, at least admiration from their supporters at home.\u201d\n\nAfter leaving Hankou for Shanghai, he again came upon their\ntraces--apparently without great gratification:\n\n\u201cAs we steamed past the city of Yang-chow, in the province of\nNganhoei, we saw the British fleet which had been sent up to demand\nsatisfaction for an outrage committed on some Protestant missionaries,\nwho had been beaten and otherwise maltreated. The sight of a British\nfleet on the Yang-tsu for such a purpose was curious indeed, and must,\nI have no doubt, have done much toward convincing the people of\nYang-chow of the force of Protestantism, if not of its pacific nature.\nFor myself, I remember the patient French missionaries, whose only\nresource had been flight into mountain fastnesses, and then recall the\nrebuke given by the Master to the disciple for drawing his sword\nagainst the high-priest\u2019s servant; and it seemed hard to reconcile the\npresence of a fleet at Yang-chow for such a purpose with the doctrines\nprofessed by his servants. Probably, however, times have changed since\nPaul preached Christ crucified, and suffered martyrdom; and it may now    335\nbe found more expedient to proclaim the Gospel from the cannon\u2019s\nmouth, and summon gunboats to exact reparation for our modern\nmartyrs.\u201d\n\nHere we take leave of our traveller, whose unfortunate experiences did\nnot prevent him from undertaking a similar journey, though by a\ndifferent route, in the following year, and with a like unsuccessful\nresult. His book is very well worth reading, simply as an entertaining\nrecord of travel in a little known country; although to a Catholic it\nhas the further interest of furnishing another of those involuntary\ntestimonies from Protestant pens, which record the unvarying failure\nof their own missionary enterprises in producing any beneficial effect\nupon the heathen, and the exceeding heroism and devotion and the\nuniform and great success which as invariably characterize our own.\n\n\n     [78] _Travels of a Pioneer of Commerce in Pigtail and\n     Petticoats; or, An Overland Journey from China toward\n     India._ By T. T. Cooper, late Agent for the Chamber of\n     Commerce at Calcutta. With Map and Illustrations. London:\n     John Murray. 1871.\n\n     [79] Not quite $170.\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n                       THE ISLAND OF SAINTS.\n\n\nNature has been lavish in her gifts to this lovely island, once so\nfamous as the nursing-school of the godly and learned. Though fallen\nfrom her high estate, though no longer the unrivalled land of science,\nshe is still the\n\n    \u201cLand of wild beauty and romantic shapes,\n       Of sheltered valleys and of stormy capes;\n     Of the bright garden and the tangled brake,\n       Of the dark mountain and the sunlit lake!\u201d\n\nRugged, precipitous cliffs protect her coasts, while her shores are\nindented by the most magnificent bays and harbors. Her bosom is stored\nwith precious metals, and the most fertile soil in the world crowns\nher granite base. Her very geographical position is an advantageous\none, for she is placed, as it were, an advanced guard on the outskirts\nof Europe--she opens the route to the great Western world, and she\noffers the first eastern port to the American mariner.\n\n\u201cMoist, bright, and green, her landscape smiles around;\u201d pellucid\nlakes reflect as in a mirror the hills, rocks, and precipices on their\nmargins; here are undulating plains of unequalled verdure; there,\ngarden-like tracts where the myrtle, the rose, and the laurel need no\nculture; where the evergreen arbutus, in wonderful luxuriance of\ngrowth, appears to be indigenous; where every spot is enamelled with\nflowers and fragrant herbs.\n\nBeautiful Ireland! most picturesque land on the face of the globe!\nAlas! why not also the richest and happiest?\n\nReligion and learning early found a welcome home in this \u201cemerald gem\nof the ocean.\u201d Even in the dark days of paganism, the priest-and-poet\nDruid of Erin appears to have been superior in intelligence and\nculture to his brethren of England and of the Continent; and when\nChristianity was first preached in the land, no other people ever\nwelcomed it with such ardent enthusiasm as did the Irish; no other\npeople ever clung to their faith with such inviolable fidelity as\nIrish Catholics have since done.\n\nDuring the five centuries that followed the apostolic labors of Saint\nPatrick, so great was the multitude of holy personages who trod in the\nway which he traced out; so eminent the sanctity of their lives; so       336\nillustrious their learning, that Ireland received the proud title of\n\u201cIsland of Saints and Doctors.\u201d The number of her churches was\ninfinite, and her monasteries and convents were at once the abodes of\npiety and the sheltering homes of the poor and the stranger. Her\ntheological schools and colleges were the most renowned of Europe.\nTheir halls were open to the students of every clime, \u201cwho,\u201d says\nMoreri, \u201cwere there received with greater hospitality than in any\nother country in the Christian world.\u201d Hither, as to the \u201cemporium of\nliterature,\u201d the youth of France, Germany, and Switzerland repaired in\nsearch of knowledge. But to the English nobility and gentry\nespecially, the Venerable Bede tells us \u201cIreland showed the most\ncordial hospitality and generosity, for, great though their numbers,\nthey were _all_ most willingly received, maintained, supplied\nwith books, and instructed without fee or reward.\u201d\n\nAnd the tide of sanctity and learning overflowed the shores of the\nholy isle; many were the pious missionaries who, in those days of\nreligious fervor, went forth to labor for the salvation of souls among\nthe nations of Europe. The memory of their works is still preserved in\nthe countries which reaped the fruits of their zeal. The Italian town,\nSan Columbano, still bears the name of the great Columbanus, a native\nof Leinster; and St. Gall, in Switzerland, still reminds us of his\nfriend and disciple Gallus. The hermitage of Saint Fiacre, another\nIrish saint, is still one of France\u2019s consecrated spots; and the\nmemory of the Connaught man, Saint Fridolin, \u201cthe Traveller,\u201d is still\nblessed on the banks of the Rhine. The famous universities of Paris\nand of Pavia owe their origin to the learning and industry of Clement\nand John, both Irishmen. From Ireland the Anglo-Saxons derived their\nfirst enlightenment, and till the thirteenth century the literature of\nScotland was the special province of the Irish clergy.\n\n\u201cWhen we look into the ecclesiastical life of this people,\u201d says the\nlearned G\u00f6rres, \u201cwe are almost tempted to believe that some potent\nspirit had transported over the sea the cells of the Valley of the\nNile, with all their hermits, its monasteries with all their inmates,\nand had settled them down in the Western isle--an isle which, in the\nlapse of three centuries, gave eight hundred and fifty saints to the\nchurch; won over to Christianity the north of Britain, and, soon\nafter, a large portion of the yet pagan Germany; and, while it devoted\nthe utmost attention to the sciences, cultivated with especial care\nthe mystical contemplation in her religious communities, as well as in\nthe saints whom they produced.\u201d\n\nNumerous vestiges are still to be found in Ireland of those days of\nenthusiastic faith. Ivy-grown abbeys and churches, and the habitations\nof saints; and the emblem of our holy creed, now rudely cut on pillar\nstones, now exquisitely carved in fine proportions, are to be met with\nscattered over the whole length and breadth of the land--\u201cmemorials,\u201d\nwe are told \u201cby a celebrated arch\u00e6ologist, \u201cnot only of the piety and\nmagnificence of a people whom ignorance and prejudice have too often\nsneered at as barbarous, but also as the finest works of sculptured\nart, of their period, now existing.\u201d\n\nIn the wild and lonely valley of Glendalough, County Wicklow, are yet\nto be seen the remains of the noble monastery, \u201conce the luminary of\nthe Western world,\u201d founded in the beginning of the sixth century by\nSaint Kevin, around which a city rose, flourished, and decayed. Gloomy    337\nmountains encompass the silent and now almost uninhabited glen, in\nwhose bosom lie the ruins of shrines which nearly thirteen centuries\nago were raised in honor of their God by men joyous and thankful in\nthe feeling of certain immortality--men whose fathers in their youth\nreverenced the Druid as a more than human counsellor.\n\n    \u201cYes, peopled were once these silent shades\n       With saintly forms of days departed,\n     When holy men and votive maids\n       Lived humble here, and heavenly-hearted!\u201d\n\nHere are assembled dismantled churches, crumbling oratories, broken\ncrosses, shattered monumental stones, and tombs, no longer to be\ndistinguished, of bishops, abbots, and recluses. And near the wasted\nremains of the holy piles, one of those mysterious edifices, a tall\nand slender Round Tower, stands, still strong and straight, like a\nsentinel guarding the wrecks of the past. It is impossible to imagine\na scene of sterner, more desolate grandeur. On the shore of one of the\ntwo lakes that lie embosomed in the glen, rises a beetling rock, in a\ncavity of which Saint Kevin is said to have lived while pursuing that\ncourse of study and contemplation for which his name is even now\nrevered. In this same cavern, too, still known by the name of \u201cSaint\nKevin\u2019s Bed,\u201d the illustrious saint and patriot Laurence O\u2019Toole is\nbelieved to have ofttimes mused and prayed when he was abbot of\nGlendalough.\n\nIn the county of Meath we find the remains of Saint Columb\u2019s\nhouse--Saint Columbkille, the elegant poet, the pious founder of so\nmany monasteries--a high stone-roofed construction of singular\narchitecture, seeming to combine the purpose of an oratory with that\nof a habitation.\n\nOn the celebrated Rock of Cashel stands a group of ruins unparalleled\nfor picturesque beauty and antiquarian interest. The most ancient\nstructure, with the exception of the Round Tower, is Cormac\u2019s chapel,\nbuilt by Cormac MacCarthy, the pious king of \u201cdeep-valleyed Desmond,\u201d\nin the beginning of the twelfth century. It also is a stone-roofed\nedifice, with Norman arches and an almost endless variety of Norman\ndecorations. Near it rise the magnificent cathedral founded by Donogh\nO\u2019Brien, King of Thomond, about 1152; and on the plain beside the\nrock, Hoar Abbey, the ancient castle of the archbishops, a perfect\nRound Tower, and numerous crosses.\n\nAnd one of the grandest of these ancient holy piles, Newtown Abbey,\nnow lies a crumbling heap on the banks of the Boyne. What it once was\nmay, however, still be conceived, of from the exquisite beauty of some\nof the remaining capitals, vaulting, and shafts, and from the many\nfragments of its noble windows which are strewn about the neighboring\ncemetery. This, alas! like many another of the magnificent ruins of\nIreland, has been used as a quarry; not by the unlettered peasant, who\nis rarely found wanting in a devotional feeling that leads him to\nregard antiquities, and especially those of an ecclesiastical origin,\nwith a sentiment of profound veneration; but by contractors for the\nerection of new buildings, and sometimes even by men of station and\neducation, who seem to have forgotten that age and neglect cannot\ndeprive structures once consecrated to God, and applied to the service\nof religion, of any portion of their sacred character.\n\nBective Abbey, not far from Newtown, is another wonderful wreck, which\nseems to combine ecclesiastical with military and domestic architecture   338\nin the most singular manner. It presents indeed a striking evidence of\nthe half-monk, half-soldier character of its founders. Battlemented\ntowers, cloister-arches, and rooms with great fire-places; the flues\ncarried up through the thickness of the walls, and continued through\ntapering chimney-shafts, seem to have made the Abbey of Bective a kind\nof monastic castle, and previous to the use of artillery it must have\nbeen a place of great strength.\n\nPerhaps one of the most beautiful edifices ever erected in Ireland was\nthe church of Killeshin, near Carlow, once decorated with richly\nsculptured capitals representing human heads, the hair intertwined\nwith serpents. This magnificent building was more hardly treated by\nthe destructiveness of an individual who, about forty years since,\nresided in the neighborhood, than by the storms and frosts and\nthunderbolts of ages. The detestable vandal wantonly defaced the\nexquisite capitals, and almost entirely obliterated an Irish\ninscription which extended round the abacus!\n\nOn the romantic shores of the beautiful Lake of Killarney stands the\nvenerable ruins of Muckross Abbey. No vestige of its former grandeur\nremains; \u201cits antic pillars massy proof\u201d are all ground into dust, and\na magnificent yew-tree that has grown in the very centre of the wreck\nspreads its mighty, sombre branches like a funereal pall over the\nfallen temple. And in the lake on the \u201choly island\u201d of Innisfallen, on\na gentle verdant slope, surrounded by thick groves, are still to be\nseen the few crumbling stones that mark where stood the abbey once so\nrenowned throughout Christendom for its learning and piety.\n\nBut it would be a vain task to attempt to enumerate all the beautiful\nmemorials of Ireland\u2019s splendor whose ivy-grown ruins still adorn the\nland they once made so famous.\n\n     \u201cHer temples grew as grows the grass\u201d--\n\nand popular tradition tells us that numbers have been hidden from\nmortal eye, ever since the pious monks who prayed within them were\nbarbarously driven forth or slain.\n\n    \u201cIn yonder dim and pathless wood\n       Strange sounds are heard at twilight hour,\n     And peals of solemn music swell\n       As from some minster\u2019s lofty tower.\n     From age to age those sounds are heard,\n       Borne on the breeze at twilight hour--\n     From age to age no foot hath found\n       A pathway to the minster\u2019s tower!\u201d\n\nMingled among the mossy marbles of fallen altars; among the mouldering\nstones and the rusted iron of crumbled cloisters; beneath the\n\u201cchurchyard\u2019s bowers\u201d; by the bleak hillsides; on the margins of the\nsunlit lakes, or under the shadow of the mysterious Round Towers, lie,\nalmost countless, the defaced, mutilated emblems of Ireland\u2019s\nheart-deep faith--broken crosses--innumerable broken crosses--eloquent\nof the piety of those by-gone days, eloquent of the ruthlessness of\nthe devastator. They are found scattered over the whole island, and\nare as various in their styles as in the perfection of their\nworkmanship--some, differing in nothing from the pillar-stones of the\npagans, save that they are rudely sculptured with a cross, to mark the\ngraves of the early Irish saints--others have the upper part of the\nshaft hewn into the form of a circle, from which the arms and the top\nextend. Crosses, highly sculptured, appear to date from the ninth and\ntwelfth centuries. In these the circle, instead of being simply cut\ninto the face of the stone, is represented by a ring, binding, as it\nwere, the shaft, arms, and upper portion of the cross together. There\nare scores of these beautiful remains in Ireland, but the finest,         339\nperhaps, are those at Monasterboice, near Drogheda; they are so\nsingularly symmetrical and artistic as to have excited the enthusiasm\nof every learned arch\u00e6ologist who has seen them.\n\nThere were originally three crosses at Monasterboice; two still exist,\nwell preserved; the third was broken, tradition says, by Cromwell. The\nlarger of the two nearly perfect crosses measures twenty-seven feet in\nheight, and is composed of three stones. The shaft, at its junction\nwith the base, is two feet in breadth and one foot three inches in\nthickness. It is divided upon the western side by fillets into seven\ncompartments, each of which contains two or more boldly-cut figures,\nnow much worn by the rain and wind of nine centuries. The sides of the\ncross are ornamented with figures and scroll-work alternately.\n\n\u201cThe smaller cross, fifteen feet high, is exquisitely beautiful,\u201d says\nMr. Wakeman, in the _Arch\u00e6ologia Hibernica_, \u201cand has suffered little\nfrom the effects of time. It stands almost as perfect as when first\nerected nine hundred years ago. The figures retain almost all their\noriginal sharpness and beauty of execution. Within the circular head\nof the cross, on its eastern face, our Saviour is represented sitting\nin judgment. A choir of angels occupy the arm to the right of the\nfigure. Several hold musical instruments, among which is seen the\nancient small and triangular Irish harp. The space to the left of our\nSaviour is crowded with figures, several of which are in an attitude\nof despair; an armed fiend is driving them from before the throne. The\ncompartment immediately beneath bears a figure weighing in a pair of\nhuge scales a smaller figure, the balance seeming to preponderate in\nhis favor. One who appears to have been weighed and found wanting is\nlying beneath the scales in an attitude of terror. The next\ncompartment beneath represents apparently the adoration of the wise\nmen. The star above the head of the infant Christ is distinctly\nmarked. The third compartment contains several figures, the action of\nwhich we do not understand. The signification of the sculpture of the\nnext following compartment is also very obscure. A figure seated upon\na throne or chair is blowing a horn, and soldiers with conical\nhelmets, broad-bladed swords, and with small circular shields appear\ncrowding in. The fifth and lowest division illustrates the Temptation\nand the Expulsion. An inscription in Irish, upon the lower part of the\nshaft, desires \u201ca prayer for Muiredach, by whom was made this cross.\u201d\n\nWe can imagine how, when this masterpiece was pronounced finished by\nthe gifted artist, the chiefs and abbots, the bards and warriors, the\nmonks and priests, and may be many a rival sculptor, crowded around\nit, full of wonder and admiration for what they must have considered a\ntruly glorious, nay, unequalled work. And Muiredach most certainly was\nnot refused the boon he craved.\n\nWe have mentioned pillar-stones, and though they do not belong to the\nChristian vestiges of the Island of Saints, still they are so mingled\nwith the holier relics that they cannot be passed over in silence.\nObscure, mysterious in their origin, many hypotheses have been formed\nrespecting them by the learned, and they have been supposed by turns\nto be landmarks, idols, or monumental stones. Some of the Irish\npillar-stones are inscribed with the Ogham character, a kind of\nwriting believed to have been in use in Ireland before the\nintroduction of Christianity. Stones very similar, but perforated,        340\nare also found in Ireland, in Scotland, and even, it is said, in\nIndia. What may have been their origin is completely unknown.\n\nThe most remarkable of the pillar-stones is found at the celebrated\nhill of Tara, in the county of Meath. Dr. Petrie thinks that this\nmonument is the famous Lia Fail, or Stone of Destiny, upon which, for\nmany ages, the kings of Ireland were crowned, and which is generally\nsupposed to have been removed from Ireland to Scotland for the\ncoronation of Fergus Mac Eark, an Irish prince--a prophecy having\ndeclared that in whatever country this stone was preserved, a king of\nthe Scotic (ancient Irish) race should reign. The learned Doctor\nrefers to some MSS., not earlier certainly than the tenth century, in\nwhich the stone is mentioned as still existing at Tara. \u201cIf this\nauthority may be relied on,\u201d says Mr. Wakeman, \u201cthe stone carried away\nfrom Scotland by Edward the First, and now preserved in Westminster\nAbbey, under the coronation chair, has long attracted a degree of\ncelebrity to which it was not entitled, while the veritable Lia Fail,\nthe stone which, according to the early bardic accounts, _roared_\nbeneath the ancient Irish monarchs at their inauguration, remained\nforgotten and diregarded among the green raths of deserted Tara.\u201d\nDeserted Tara! thirteen centuries have passed away since the kings and\nchiefs of Ireland were wont to assemble in the royal city--\n\n    \u201cTara, where the voice of music sung,\n     And many a harp and cruit responsive rung,\n     And many a bard, in high heroic verse,\n     The deeds of heroes gloried to rehearse.\n     And many a shell went round, and loud and long\n     Rose the full chorus of the festive song.\n     Ah! who can tell how beautiful were they--\n     The Fenian chiefs--how joyous, young, and gay!\n     Each stood a champion on the battle-field,\n     And but with life the victory would yield.\u201d\n\nThirteen centuries have passed away since the work of decay began, and\nnothing now remains of its ancient grandeur. All has been swept away,\nsave some faint indications of the site of the noble banqueting-hall,\nwhose magnificence was so vaunted in bardic song and story, and the\nraths upon which the principal habitations stood.\n\nThese raths or duns, which are found in every part of Ireland, often\nconsist of only a circular intrenchment, but most frequently form a\nsteep mound, flat at the top and strongly intrenched. The works\nusually enclosed a piece of ground upon which, it is presumed, the\nhouses of lesser importance stood, the mound being occupied by the\ndwelling of the chief. The circular enclosures generally contain\nexcavations of a beehive form, lined with uncemented stones, and\nconnected by passages sufficiently large to admit a man. These\nchambers or artificial caverns are supposed to have been store-houses\nfor food and treasure, and places of refuge for the women and children\nin time of war.\n\nIn the centre of the principal mound of Tara, the Forradh, now stands\nthe Lia Fail--the great pillar-stone--the stone of destiny--moved from\nits primitive site to its present in order to mark the grave--\u201cthe\ncroppies\u2019 grave,\u201d it is called--of some men killed in an encounter\nwith British troops during the rising in 1798.\n\nBy the side of the hoary ruins of the earlier monastic houses is\nalmost invariably seen one of those singular and, for many centuries,\nmysterious edifices, the Round Towers. The question of the origin and\nuses of these remarkable vestiges long occupied the attention of\nantiquaries. They were supposed to have been built by the Danes, or to\nhave a Ph\u0153nician or Indo-Scythic origin, and to have contained the        341\nsacred fire from whence all the fires in the kingdom were annually\nrekindled. There were almost as many theories concerning them as there\nwere towers, and each succeeding theory appeared to involve the\nsubject in deeper mystery than ever--a mystery that was proverbial\nuntil dispelled for ever by the learned Dr. Petrie. This gentleman has\ndecided that the towers are of Christian and of ecclesiastical origin,\nand were erected at various periods between the fifth and thirteenth\ncenturies--that they were designed to answer, at least, a twofold use,\nnamely, to serve as belfries, and as keeps, or places of strength, in\nwhich the sacred utensils, books, relics, and other valuables were\ndeposited, and into which the ecclesiastics to whom they belonged\ncould retire for security in cases of sudden attack; and that they\nwere probably also used, when occasion required, as beacons and\nwatch-towers. These conclusions were arrived at after a long and\npatient investigation of the architectural peculiarities of the Round\nTowers, and also of the religious structures generally found in\nconnection with them, and the vexed question is at rest.\n\nThe sites of a hundred and eighteen of these buildings have been\ndiscovered, the greater number in ruins; indeed, of some only the\nfoundations remain; others are almost perfect in external shape. They\nvary from eighty to a hundred and ten feet in height, tapering\ngradually to the summit, and terminated by a high conical stone roof.\nThe Tower of Clondalkin, near Dublin, is nearly perfect; but perhaps\nthe most noble example is found at Monasterboice, where it combines,\nwith the magnificent crosses we have described, and the ivy-grown\nruined churches, to form a group of sacred antiquities unsurpassed in\ninterest and picturesque beauty.\n\nFrightful as were the devastations of the Danes in Ireland--the\nunhappy land bore the brunt of their fury--and frequent as was the\npillage of religious property, there have been found many beautiful\nrelics of sacred objects belonging to the sacked and ravaged abbeys\nand churches. In newly-ploughed lands, in the beds of rivers, in the\nheaps of crumbled stones around the ruins, in the bogs have been\ndiscovered, among many other interesting evidences of early Irish\ncivilization, pastoral crooks and crosiers, chalices of stone and of\nsilver, and ancient quadrangular bells of bronze and of iron. These\nlast appear to have been in use in Ireland as early as the time of St.\nPatrick. Some of them, we are told by Cambrensis, were so highly\nreverenced that both clergy and laity were more afraid of swearing\nfalsely by them than by the Gospels--\u201cbecause of some hidden and\nmiraculous power with which they were gifted, and by the vengeance of\nthe saint to whom they were particularly pleasing, their despisers and\ntransgressors were severely punished.\u201d\n\nThe crooks and crosiers are in general of exquisite workmanship,\nexhibiting a profusion of ornament of extreme beauty. Among these\nrelics has been found one which affords the most striking evidence of\nthe proficiency that Irish artificers had arrived at in many of the\narts previous to the arrival of the English. It is known as the Cross\nof Cong, and was made at Roscommon, by native Irishmen, about the year\n1123, in the reign of Turlogh O\u2019Connor, father of Roderich, the last\nking of Ireland. The form is most elegant, and it is completely\ncovered with minute and elaborate ornaments, a portion worked in pure     342\ngold. The ornaments are, for the most part, tracery and grotesque\nanimals fancifully combined, and similar in character to the\ndecorations found upon crosses of stone of the same period. In the\ncentre, at the intersection, is set a large crystal, through which is\nvisible a piece of the true cross, as inscriptions in Irish and Latin\ndistinctly record.\n\nThe copies of the Gospels and of the sacred writings which had been\nused by the saints of Erin were often preserved by their successors\nenclosed in cases of yew, or some wood equally durable. Some of these\ndeeply-interesting evidences of Irish piety and learning have come\ndown to us, and are to be seen in the collection of the Royal Irish\nAccademy at Dublin. One of them, the Caah, is a box about nine inches\nlong and eight broad, formed of brass plates riveted together, and\nornamented with gems and chasings of gold and silver. It contains a\nrude wooden box enclosing a copy of the ancient Vulgate translation of\nthe Psalms in Latin, written on vellum, and, it is believed, by the\nhand of Saint Columbkille, \u201cthe Apostle of the Picts.\u201d It seems to\nhave been handed down in the O\u2019Donnell family, to which the great\nsaint belonged.\n\nAnother most interesting relic, also in the collection of the Academy,\nis the Domnach Airgid, which contains, beyond a doubt, a considerable\nportion of the copy of the holy Gospels used by Saint Patrick, and\npresented to him by Saint Macarthen. This MS. has three covers; the\nfirst and most ancient, of yew; the second, of copper plated with\nsilver; and the third, of silver plated with gold.\n\nBeautiful--sadly, solemnly beautiful--are the remains of Ireland\u2019s\nancient grandeur; but though her splendor may have passed away;\nthough she be no longer \u201cthe school of Christendom\u201d; though her abbeys\nand monasteries, her churches and towers and sculptured crosses, lie\nmostly heaps of wayside ruins, still her faith, her wondrous faith, is\nfresh and strong as in those bygone ages. As it was in those days of\nold when the fervent piety of her sons led them to distant lands,\napostles of religion and science, so is Ireland\u2019s faith now, warm and\nactive as ever. In all her struggles, in all her sorrows, her faith\nhas stood by her side to minister consolation and to ward off despair.\n\nO lovely, unhappy isle! \u201cthou chief of reliquaries,\u201d though thy\nshamrock be watered with tears, still thou hast the better part!\n\n    \u201cAnd if of every land the guest,\n       Thine exile back returning\n     Finds still one land unlike the rest,\n       Discrowned, disgraced, and mourning,\n     Give thanks! Thy flowers, to yonder skies\n       Transferred, pure airs are tasting;\n     And, stone by stone, thy temples rise\n       In regions everlasting!\u201d\n\nWill \u201cthe bound and suffering victim\u201d ever again breathe freely?--will\nreligious freedom and political freedom ever again stand hand in hand\non the dewy turf of Erin?--will the Lia Fail ever again roar beneath\nthe seat of an independent Irish ruler?--these are questions which\nTime alone can answer. But whatever fate may be reserved for\nlong-tried Ireland in the future, however disconsolate her present,\nevery Irishman\u2019s heart should glow with pride and love when he\nremembers the glory of her early days--glory such as no other country\never possessed--glory of which no centuries of relentless tyranny can\ndeprive her--the glory of having been, when all was dark around, the\nhome of learning and the fatherland of saints!\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n                THE LEGENDS OF OISIN, BARD OF ERIN,                       343\n\n                         BY AUBREY DE VERE.\n\n\n                                 II.\n\n                      THE DEATH OF OSCAR.[80]\n\n\n         \u201cSing us once more of Gahbra\u2019s fight,\n            Old bard, that fight where fell thy son:\u201d\n          Thus Patrick spake to vexed Oisin,\n            And the old man\u2019s wrath was gone.\n\n         \u201cThou of the crosier white! whoe\u2019er\n            Had seen that plain with carnage spread.\n          Or friend or foe, had wept for Eire,\n            And for her princes dead!\n\n         \u201cThere lay the arms of mighty chiefs:\n            There kings in death with helms unbound.\n          A field of doom it was; a place\n            By deadly spells girt round!\n\n         \u201cUpon his left hand leaned my son:\n            His shield lay broken by his side:\n          His right hand clutched his sword: the blood\n            Rushed from him like a tide.\n\n         \u201cI stayed my spear-shaft on the ground:\n            O\u2019er him I stooped on bended knee:\n          On me my Oscar turned his eyes:\n            He stretched his hands to me.\n\n         \u201cTo me my Oscar spake--my son--                                  344\n            The dying man, and all but dead:\n          \u2018Thou liv\u2019st! For this I thank the gods!\n            O father!\u2019 thus he said.\n\n         \u201c\u2018Rememberest thou that day we fought\n            Far westward at the Sith of Mor?\u2019\n          Caoilte spake: \u2018I healed thee then,\n            Though deep thy wounds and sore:--\n\n         \u201c\u2018No cure there lives for wounds like these.\u2019\u201d\n            Here ceased the lamentable sound.\n          Five steps the old man moved apart;\n            Then dashed him on the ground.\n\n         \u201cMy Oscar stared upon his wounds;\n            To fields long past his thoughts took flight:\n          \u2018My son, I cried, thou hadst not died\n            If Fionn had ruled the fight!\u2019\n\n         \u201cO Patrick! I have sung thee lays,\n            Emprize of others, or my own;\n          Where he was bravest all were brave;\n            But his, and his alone,\n\n         \u201cThe gracious ways, the voice that smiled,\n            The heart so loving and so strong:\n          The women laughed my harp to hear;\n            They wept at Oscar\u2019s song!\n\n         \u201cAll night we watched the dying man:\n            To staunch his blood we strove in vain:\n          We heard the demon-loaded wind\n            Along the mountain strain.\n\n         \u201cAll night we propped him with our spears:\n            To staunch his blood we strove in vain:\n          Till, drenched in falling floods, the moon\n            Went down beyond the plain.\n\n         \u201cAlas! the dawning of that morn,\n            My Oscar\u2019s last! With barren glare\n          It flashed along the broken arms,\n            And the red pools here and there.\n\n         \u201cThen saw we pacing from afar,                                   345\n            A kingly form, a shape of woe:\n          King Fionn it was that toward us moved\n            With measured footsteps slow:\n\n         \u201cKing Fionn himself; and far behind\n            Came many warriors more of Fail,[81]\n          Down-gazing on Baoigne\u2019s clan,\n            Death-cold, and still, and pale.\n\n         \u201cThere lay all dumb the men of might;\n            There, foot to foot, the foemen, strewn\n          Like seaweed lines on stormy shores,\n            Or forests overblown!\n\n         \u201cOh! then to hear that cry far borne\n            On gales new-touched with morning frost\n          As though he heard it not, the king\n            Came, striding o\u2019er that host,\n\n         \u201cSeeking the bodies of his sons.\n            So on he strode through fog and mist;\n          And we to meet him moved; for now\n            That Fionn it was we wist.\n\n         \u201c\u2018All hail to thee, King Fionn! all hail!\u2019\n            He answered naught, but onward passed\n          Until he reached that spot where lay\n            My Oscar sinking fast.\n\n         \u201c\u2018Late, late thou com\u2019st: yet thou art here.\u2019\n            Then answered Fionn, \u2018Alas the day!\n          My reign is done since thou art gone,\n            And all this host is clay.\u2019\n\n         \u201cMy Oscar gazed upon his face:\n            He heard the words his grandsire said:\n          He heard, nor spake: his hand down fell;\n            And his great spirit fled.\n\n         \u201cThen all the warriors, far and near,                            346\n            Save one that wept, and Fionn, my sire,\n          Three times upraised a cry that rang\n            O\u2019er all the land of Eire.\n\n         \u201cFionn turned from us his face that hour:\n            We knew that tears adown it crept:\n          Never, except for Bran his hound,\n            The king till then had wept.\n\n          He shed no tear above his son;\n            Tearless he saw his brother die:\n          He wept to see my Oscar dead,\n            And the warriors weeping nigh.\n\n         \u201cThis is the tale of Gahbra\u2019s fight,\n            Where all the monarchs warred on one;\n          Where they that wrecked him shared his fate,\n            And Erin\u2019s day was done.\n\n         \u201cOn Gahbra\u2019s field the curse came down:\n            Our voice is changed from that of men:\n          We sigh by night; we sigh by day:\n            We learned that lesson then.\n\n          Oh! many a prince was laid that day\n            In narrow cairn and lonely cave:\n          But all the fair-famed Rath thenceforth\n            Became my Oscar\u2019s grave.\n\n          Patrick, I pray the Lord of Life--\n            Patrick, do thou his grace implore--\n          That death may still my heart ere long:\n            This night my pain is sore.\u201d\n\n\n     [80] The substance of this poem will be found among the\n     translations of the Irish Ossianic Society.\n\n     [81] \u201cInisfail\u201d--Ireland.\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n                 THE PLACE VENDOME AND LA ROQUETTE.                       347\n\n             THE BEGINNING AND THE END OF THE COMMUNE.\n\n                       FROM LE CORRESPONDANT.\n\n                            _Concluded._\n\n\nWhen we arrived at La Roquette, as there were no steps by which to\ndescend from the cart, the national guardsmen, who had not insulted\nus, aided the laymen in getting out, but when it came to the turn of\nthe priests they refused their assistance. They shut us up for more\nthan an hour and a half in a narrow room which could scarcely hold us.\nIt was nearly five hours since we left our cells at Mazas. Some aged\npriests--pardon these common details concerning the sufferings of all\nkinds we underwent--asked to be shown to a retired place. After making\nthem wait a long time, they placed a repulsive bucket in the middle of\nthe room. During our whole stay at La Roquette, a hundred soldiers,\nten ecclesiastics, and some national guardsmen had no other--what the\nEnglish and Germans call by a modest euphemism \u201ca closet or\nprivy\u201d--than an article of the same kind, placed in the middle of an\ninfectious apartment in the third story, and I was suffering from an\ninflammation of the bowels, brought on by want of exercise, of\nnourishment, and of sleep.\n\nThe time passed in this anteroom was not lost. We became acquainted\nand we encouraged one another. In the school of misfortune, people\nlearn to be communicative, and to overlook differences of age and\nsocial rank. Those who did not anticipate any imminent danger were\nundeceived. We will add, to show how profoundly hope is graven in\nthe heart of man, that the strongest pessimists easily yielded to the\ninfluence of the optimists. Not one was wanting in firmness and\npatience.\n\nAt last the door of the anteroom opened, and a citoyen with red\npantaloons, a red girdle, and red cravat called over the prisoners. It\nwas Citoyen Fran\u00e7ois, the Director of La Roquette. Those familiar with\nthe history of Paris know that, at the end of the Empire, the post of\nthe sapeurs-pompiers of La Villette was taken by assault by a handful\nof demagogues, who killed several sapeurs-pompiers. The leaders of the\ninsurrection were no other than _General_ Eudes, a member of the\nCommune, and Citizen Fran\u00e7ois, the warden of La Roquette. The\ncitizen-director of Mazas had still greater claims on the confidence\nof the Commune. It will be seen that the hostages were well guarded.\n\nLa Grande-Roquette, so called to distinguish it from La\nPetite-Roquette, which is opposite, and where young prisoners are\nconfined, is the prison of those condemned to death and to the\n_travaux forc\u00e9s_. It is divided into two distinct parts: the eastern\nand western buildings. Separated by a spacious interior court, they\nare united on the street by a third building, in the lower part of\nwhich is the jailer\u2019s office; and, on the opposite side, by a\nsufficiently large chapel, which was, of course, closed and stript of     348\nall the exterior emblems they could destroy.\n\nSome of us were confined in the first story of the western building\nwhere the hostages were who came the night before. The second and\nthird stories were occupied by those sentenced by the court of assize\nof the Seine.\n\nThe remainder, and I was of the number, were sent to the third story\nof the eastern building. The first story was occupied by about forty\nParisian guardsmen, prisoners of the Commune; the second story by a\nsomewhat larger number of _sergents de ville_, who were found at\nMontmartre in the affair of the eighteenth of March. In consequence of\nthe defection of a part of the line, they fell into the power of the\ninsurgents. There were also on the same story a dozen artillerymen,\nlikewise prisoners. The third story, where I was conducted with seven\necclesiastics and three laymen, was already occupied by a hundred\nsoldiers, some of whom, on their way through Paris at the time of the\nproclamation of the Commune, refused to serve it, and others had been\ntaken prisoners in the engagements between the insurgents and the\nregular army. The following night, three vicars from Belleville and\nSt. Ambroise were imprisoned with us.\n\nThe cells of La Roquette are extremely plain. They are about one m\u00e8tre\nand a few centim\u00e8tres wide and two and a half metr\u00e8s long. No chair,\nno table: the only article of furniture is an iron bedstead. Neatness\nis the least thing to be remarked concerning them. It was very evident\nthat several generations of criminals had occupied them without\nrendering them any more agreeable. This was not all. The first night I\nfound myself among two kinds of insects whose names are unmentionable.\nWhen in the warm climes of the East, and in the villages of Southern\nSpain, I found myself _aux prises_ with these nocturnal enemies, I had\nat least the consolation of lighting my taper, of complaining the next\nday to the hostess, and of changing my room or the inn. But at La\nRoquette none of these things was possible. Having no chair to sit on,\nI remained seated on my bed.\n\nI must, however, mention one advantage at La Roquette of which we were\ndeprived at Mazas: the cellular discipline was not as rigorous. The\nprisoners could at certain moments of the day see each other in the\ncourt, or in the passage of the story they occupied. Each window\nlights two cells separated by a strong partition, but between the\npartition and the grating of the window, common to both cells, is a\nspace through which the occupants can talk, and even pass a book. I\ncould thus exchange some pious thoughts and fortifying resolutions\nwith my neighbor, the Abb\u00e9 Amodru. During the day we spoke of God, of\ndeath, eternity, of the assistance we could render our companions:\nduring the night, we regarded with horror the lugubrious fires that\nseemed to be devouring the whole city.\n\nThe very night of our arrival, a battery of seven large marine pieces\nset up at P\u00e8re-la-Chaise began to discharge shells and petroleum-bombs\non different parts of Paris. As it was only a few m\u00e8tres from our\nprison, it shook our cells and stunned us with the frightful\ndetonation, and the whir of the projectiles passing above our heads.\nThis battery did not cease its incendiary work till the following\nSaturday, the twenty-seventh of May, at half-past three, the moment\nwhen the regular army gained possession of the cemetery. Some days\nbefore my arrest, Citizen Delescluze declared in a proclamation,          349\nlittle noticed, that the miserable advocates of the government of the\nfourth of September, ready in words to defend us against the Prussians\nbehind the forts, ramparts, and barricades, had given everything up to\nthem; but the Communists would show themselves faithful to their plan\nof defence against the royalists--\u201cafter the ramparts, the barricades;\nafter the barricades, the houses; after the houses, fire and the\nmine.\u201d This great criminal should have kept his word.\n\nWe were permitted on Wednesday morning to hold communication with one\nanother. But the director gave the strictest orders that there should\nbe none whatever between us and the soldiers. When the soldiers were\nnot in one of the courts of the prison, we were shut up in our cells.\n\nI observed M. l\u2019Abb\u00e9 Beyle, one of Mgr. Darboy\u2019s vicar-generals, in\none of the windows of the first story of the western building. He\nimmediately recognized me, and informed me by some intelligible signs\nthat the hostages would have recreation together in one of the courts,\nand that M. Deguerry would be very glad to see me and obtain news of\nthe parish of the Madeleine.\n\nAt noon the wardens ordered us to descend. I was affected at the\nthought that I was about to see our archbishop and vicar-generals, my\ncur\u00e9, and some of my friends belonging to the clergy and religious\norders of Paris. I stationed myself before the door through which they\nwould come out of the western building. The archbishop was the first\nto appear. He was hardly recognizable, such frightful ravages had\nprivations and sufferings wrought on his frail and delicate\nconstitution. He was immediately surrounded by the priests of the\neastern building. The laymen were not less eager to manifest their\nrespectful sympathy. While he was addressing me a friendly word, and I\nwas kissing his hand, M. Deguerry entered the court. I had been for\nten years one of his vicars at the Madeleine. Knowing his great need\nof an active life and a certain impressionability of his character, I\nexpected to find him enfeebled, discouraged, and ill after two months\u2019\nconfinement in the cell of a prison. Happily, there was nothing of the\nkind. His face was fresh and healthy, and his conversation cheerful\nand enlivening. In spite of his seventy-four years, he was as erect as\never. He, as well as the archbishop, had undergone much suffering, but\nprivations and trials had made no inroads upon his strong\nconstitution.\n\nWith the exception of a quarter of an hour I passed with Mgr. Surat,\nP\u00e8re Olivaint, M. Bayle, M. Petit, the chief secretary of the\narchbishop, M. Mol\u00e9on, the cur\u00e9 of St. S\u00e9verin, and some other\n_confr\u00e8res_, I passed the whole time of recreation with M. Deguerry.\nHe was desirous of news concerning his clergy and parish. The closing\nof the Madeleine greatly distressed him, but, when he heard that\nnothing had been injured or desecrated, he resumed his serenity. He\nsaid little of the humiliating treatment of Raoul Rigault, and the\n_ennui_ and sufferings of his long imprisonment in the cells of Mazas.\nSo far from retaining any bitterness in his heart, he wished \u201cto\nconsecrate _the few years he still had to live_ in doing as much\ngood as possible to those who had been persecuting the clergy and\ninjuring the cause of religion; in adapting the charities and the\nministry of the times to the exceptional wants of Paris; and in\nshowing that by abandoning Jesus Christ and his holy teachings,\npeoples, as well as individuals, only meet with deceptive illusions       350\nand material and moral ruin.\u201d\n\nWe quote these words to show that M. Deguerry had no grave fears\nrespecting his situation. The archbishop and he both knew that the\ndeath of the hostages had been discussed by the Commune, but they were\nconvinced that these threats would never be executed. What reasons had\nthey for such an assurance? Had they received an absolute promise?\nWere they ignorant of the revolutionary orgies of Paris, and the\nbrutal hatred of its tyrants? Did they think, having nothing to\nreproach themselves for, that no one could conceive the idea of\nputting them to death? I was vainly endeavoring to find an explanation\nof this assurance when Mgr. Darboy joined us.\n\nIf his health was affected and his body enfeebled, his mind was\nundoubtedly clear and sagacious. He not only took broad and correct\nviews of the events and men of the times, but he displayed an\nacuteness almost caustic. The consciousness of his ecclesiastical\ndignity and his intellectual strength suggested to him many\nobservations, full of animation and reality, respecting the incredible\nhumiliations that he had received from Raoul Rigault and other heroes\nof the club, or _estaminet_, who thought they were aggrandizing\nthemselves and acquiring claims on the admiration of posterity by\ntheir absurdity and impertinence. He bitterly deplored the weakening\nof the public sense of respect for authority, and thought, without a\nreformation in this respect, Paris and the whole of France would never\nrecover from their misfortunes. To support these observations, Mgr.\nDarboy recalled the conclusion of one of his last pastoral letters, in\nwhich he predicted that, if society, persisted in disregarding the\nprecepts of the Gospel and abandoning the principles of religion and\nmorality, it would be liable to a terrible overthrow.\n\nI, in my turn, recalled to his recollection that a democratic journal\nhad not hesitated to condemn this language as bearing the impress of\nexaggeration, so desirous was it that Paris should be divested of all\nreligious belief or practice. He remembered the article spoken of, and\nseemed pleased to hear it quoted.\n\nThe archbishop knew I had only been arrested the week before, and was\naware that, in consequence of my former functions, I had frequent\nintercourse with the political world. After questioning me respecting\nthe religious condition of Paris and the parish affairs, and inquiring\nabout Mgr. Buquet, who, notwithstanding his great age and notoriety,\nhad bravely remained at Paris, rendering quite providential service in\nthe diocesan administration, of which he was the only member free\nafter the arrest and incarceration of M. Jourdain at the Conciergerie,\nand M. Icard at the Prison de la Sant\u00e9, Mgr. Darboy added, in a tone\nthat excluded all personal preoccupation:\n\n\u201cWhat is thought of the situation and fate of the hostages in the\npolitical world of Paris?\u201d\n\n\u201cThanks to the confidence inspired by the Commune, honest men,\nmonseigneur, are daily taking flight. When the committee of public\nsafety came to prove my mistake in not following in their traces, I\nonly knew four persons in Paris with whom I could converse, and that\nrarely, on the events of the day:--M. L----, the chief secretary of\nthe Cr\u00e9dit Foncier; M. G----, a former deputy from Seine-et-Marne; the\nCount de L----, an old officer; and M. G----, the president of the\nConseil de Fabrique, at St. Eustache, imprisoned for a short time,\nthough eighty-four years old, because a supply of bread and meat was       351\nfound at his house which he had the boldness to distribute to the poor\nof the Quartier des Halles. If, therefore, you wish to know the\nimpressions of the political and diplomatic world now at Paris, you\nwill be nearly reduced to mine, and it is a question if my modest\n_r\u00e9gal_ could tempt monseigneur\u2019s appetite.\u201d\n\n\u201cI perceive,\u201d said Mgr. Darboy, smiling, \u201cthat the Commune has not had\nany time to depress your spirits. I am waiting for an answer to my\nquestion.\u201d\n\n\u201cAll persons of honesty and intelligence condemn your arrest,\nmonseigneur, and that of the other hostages. Only the Prussians and\nthe Commune are capable of reviving this barbarous custom. I have been\nassured that the representatives of several foreign powers have taken\nsteps to free you from danger, and doubtless the government at\nVersailles, in the impossibility of directly intervening, will\nconsider it a duty to encourage these efforts.\u201d\n\n\u201cI was aware of this,\u201d replied the archbishop with marked\nsatisfaction. \u201cIt was doubtless under this diplomatic pressure that\nProtot declared to me that, if the Commune had taken hostages, it was\nin obedience to the brutal requirements of the lowest demagogues, and\nif they should possibly consider an execution necessary, they would\nchoose one or two officers of the peace, or _sergents de ville_, and\nby no means a member of the clergy. As for the rest, I have entire\nconfidence in the goodness of God and the testimony of my conscience.\u201d\n\nAs Mgr. Darboy ended these words, at about half-past two, the warden,\nwho guarded us, gave the signal for returning to our cells. His\nconfidence astonished me, and would have diminished my apprehensions\nif, after my transfer to La Roquette, I had not firmly resolved not\nto yield to my illusions. And afterwards, in writing an account of\nthis final interview to an eminent friend of the archbishop and my\ncur\u00e9, I said: \u201cWhile they seemed to have no fears, I had no hope.\u201d\n\nThis was on Wednesday, the twenty-fourth of May. Some time after,\nabout seven o\u2019clock, I observed, through the bars of my cell, a\nstrange movement in the large interior court. There was a great\ndifference between Mazas and La Roquette. At Mazas, the prison\ndiscipline was in sufficient vigor, but at La Roquette there was no\norder and no discipline. This prison, placed between the Faubourgs St.\nAntoine, M\u00e9nilmontant, and Charonne, was at the mercy of all the wild\nbeasts of these quarters, who knocked around and roared without any\nrestraint. Some men of sinister appearance went from the office to the\nwestern building where the first hostages were kept, some armed with\nrevolvers and others carrying mysterious documents. The director of\nthe prison, with his red girdle and pantaloons, gave, or rather\nreceived, orders with an air that might be regarded as embarrassed or\nsatisfied, according to one\u2019s idea of his principles. The bad wardens\ndid not conceal their joy, the good ones disappeared in consternation.\nA citoyen of imperious manners and wild aspect, before whom some bowed\nand others trembled, proceeded like a man in a fit of madness or\nintoxication towards the western building. I had not then sufficient\npresence of mind to recognize him, but I was convinced afterwards that\nit was Ferr\u00e9; others, with less probability, declare it was Raoul\nRigault. These two rivals of Robespierre would figure equally well at\nthe post of infamy.\n\nMost of the windows were closed in the first story of the western part\nfacing us, where the principal hostages were incarcerated; a few were     352\nopen, revealing empty cells. At the same time, the windows of the\nsecond and third stories, occupied by those condemned by the court of\nassize, were filled with prisoners who were wondering, with a lively\ncuriosity, at the meaning of the unusual spectacle which had struck\nus.\n\nMy anxiety became more and more intense, when I saw an officer of the\ninsurgents half open the door that led from the court to the office,\nand say, with a solemn voice: \u201cAre the _hommes de guerre_ ready?\u201d\nWithout being thoroughly initiated into the military language, I\nunderstood they were about to shoot the whole or a part of us. I threw\nmyself on my knees to implore God to grant us all strength and\ncourage. A few minutes past eight, I was stunned by a horrible firing.\nSix almost simultaneous discharges of chassepots, succeeded by some\nsingle reports, resounded in the prison court. A deadly silence\nsucceeded this noise, and revealed to me that only a few steps distant\nhad been committed one of those monstrous crimes that constitute an\nepoch in the history of the human race.\n\nFrom the prayers for the dying I passed to the prayers for the dead.\nNever had I so thoroughly sounded the depths of God\u2019s mercy. I no\nlonger conjured him, but claimed an indemnification, worthy of him,\nfor the victims of so base and execrable an outrage. I never could\nhave survived this excess of man\u2019s iniquity, if I had not felt myself\nsustained by an assurance of the eternal goodness and justice of God.\n\nWhen I rose, the mournful noise of the clarions and drums, and the\ndismal rumbling of a cart towards Charonne, seemed to put an end to\nthis tragedy.\n\nWednesday night was truly a night of torture for me. Every instant\nthe outer and inner doors of the prison were opened to bring in, or\ncarry away, victims. A court martial, or rather banditti under the\nguise of judges, held a session in the office. The unfortunate men,\nwho were suspected of \u201ccomplicity with the _chouans_ at Versailles,\u201d\nor who refused to die for the Commune under the orders of old\ncriminals, were mercilessly sacrificed. With the sound of drums and\ntrumpets mingled the noise of the carriages that brought the suspected\nto La Roquette, and carried to P\u00e8re-la-Chaise those who had been shot,\nand the bombs _\u00e0 p\u00e9trole_. At the same time the cemetery battery did\nnot cease its thunder, and the flames that were consuming the\nmonuments of Paris cast their lurid gleams into our cells. Let the\nreader for a moment take my place, and he will feel that no\ndescription could equal so overwhelming a spectacle.\n\nBeing on the eastern side of the prison, which has no direct\ncommunication with the western, I was still ignorant on Thursday\nmorning of the names of the victims of the night before. Two faithful\nwardens came at an early hour to announce the fatal news, and give me\nnearly the same details of this sad drama. According to them, the\nemissaries of the Commune were the only witnesses of the execution: it\nwas therefore difficult to obtain a precise, and, especially, a\ncomplete account. One of these wardens, who went as near as he could\nto the place of execution, received orders to aid the executioners in\nplacing the bodies upon a cart which was to take them to a corner of\nCharonne, at the extremity of P\u00e8re-la-Chaise. It is to his details,\nand those of other wardens, and the prisoners of the western side,\nthat I owe the following particulars.\n\nAn emissary of the pr\u00e9fecture of police presented himself with some       353\narmed insurgents in the first story of the western side, uttering\nhorrible threats: \u201cThe royalists are assassinating the republicans: it\nis horrible! it must be stopped!\u201d Then taking a list marked with a red\npencil, he cried in a loud voice: \u201cCitoyen Darboy! citoyen Deguerry!\ncitoyen Bonjean! citoyen Ducoudray! citoyen Clerc! citoyen Allard!\u201d\nThey were the six victims given up to the jury of frenzied demagogues.\nEverybody knows the three first. P\u00e8re Ducoudray, of the Society of\nJesus, was the superior of an educational establishment in the old Rue\ndes Postes, and devoted himself to the formation of good Christians\nand good Frenchmen; P\u00e8re Clerc, also a Jesuit, and formerly a naval\nofficer, was one of the directors of the same establishment; and the\nAbb\u00e9 Allard, an old apostolic missionary, who had been devoting his\ntime to the service of the ambulances and still wore the armlet and\ncross of the international society of Geneva.\n\nEach one replied in a firm and resigned voice: \u201cPresent.\u201d I learned\nthe next day from Mgr. Surat, the first vicar-general of Paris, that\nthe Jesuit fathers had received two days before some consecrated\nhosts, and the Fathers Ducoudray and Clerc were able at this critical\nmoment to give themselves the Holy Communion. They also gave him two\nsacred hosts at the arrival of their murderers, one of which he\noffered M. Deguerry, who thus met death with the Christian fortitude\nand the boundless trust that the bread of life confers.\n\nIn going down, Mgr. Darboy and M. Bonjean, who showed an invincible\nfirmness to the end, locked arms.\n\nThey were all overwhelmed with gross insults on their way to the place\nof execution. An obscure corner had been chosen, on the circular\nrailway that separates the main prison from the outer ramparts. The\nvictims were able to give one another encouragement and final\nabsolution and benediction. Some words have been attributed to the\narchbishop, the authenticity of which I cannot vouch for: I am not\neven sure that he spoke at all. It is very probable that, in the\npresence of death, they preserved a religious recollection, replying\nonly by their silence and forgiveness to the insults of their\nmurderers. What is beyond doubt, they all displayed an unalterable\ncalmness and dignity.\n\nTheir murderers could not have been numerous, or else their state of\nintoxication and fury must have prevented their correctness of aim.\nSome of their victims, in fact, received only two shots. When their\nbodies were discovered, I had that of M. Deguerry examined by three\nphysicians--Drs. de Beauvais, Moissenet, and Raynaud. A round ball had\npassed through one side of the eye into the skull, where it was\nimbedded in the fractured bones. It is preserved at the Madeleine. The\nother ball passed through one of the lungs. The physicians thought\nthat his death must have been instantaneous. At the moment of being\nshot, M. Deguerry, with an impulse in accordance with his military\nturn, opened his cassock and exposed his chest to the aim of his\nmurderers; the ball which entered his lung only passed through the\nback part of his cassock.\n\nThe wardens informed me that, before throwing the bodies into the\ncart, they were stripped of a part of their clothes, which were burned\non the place of execution. I can testify to the exactitude of this,\nhaving twice seen the spots covered with the burning clothes. I also\nascertained that the money of the six victims was afterward stolen        354\nfrom their cells, and their books and papers cast into the fire. Some\nweeks after a half-burned breviary was seen in one of the closets of\nthe ante-room of La Roquette. It is thus the Commune respected the\nlast wishes and testamentary dispositions of its victims.\n\nThose who were shot on Wednesday and the following days, and all the\nprisoners whom the committee of public safety reserved for the same\nfate, were victims of their devotedness to two noble and grand causes.\nThey were persecuted through hatred of religion, the abolition of\nwhich the Commune had inscribed in its sacrilegious programme, and\nthrough hatred of the country represented by the French army and the\nnational assembly at Versailles, who were defending order, liberty,\nhonor, civilization, and the faith against barbarians.\n\nAfter the massacre on Wednesday, the hostages could entertain no\nfurther illusion as to their fate. This was only the commencement of a\nbloody drama. Everything convinced me it would only end with the last\nof the hostages. Then we entered upon a long agony of four days, the\nsad changes in which no human tongue could describe. I will confine\nmyself to enumerating without comment the most remarkable incidents.\n\nOn Thursday noon, we were allowed recreation together in the same\ncourt as the day before. Our faces were sadder, but our hearts were as\ncourageous. The laymen manifested a cordial sympathy for the clergy\nand a like serenity. It was evident that all put their confidence in\nGod--a confidence that is not vain. I conversed twenty minutes with\nP\u00e8re Olivaint. Smitten in his dearest affections, he still had a\ngracious smile on his lips. I will not attempt to depict\nthe expression of his face or repeat his conversation. His face had\nsomething about it truly supernatural, and his words were those of an\nangel. At the proposition of Mgr. Surat, M. Bayle, and P\u00e8re Olivaint,\nthe priests made a vow, if God would deign to snatch them from the\njaws of death, to celebrate a Mass of thanksgiving in honor of the\nBlessed Virgin on the first Saturday of every month for the space of\nthree years. I noticed among the laymen a face familiar to me. I\ninquired his name. It was that of one of the most intelligent and most\ncourageous commissaires de police. It was he whom the government\nappointed in January, 1864, to make me a domiciliary visit and seize\nmy papers, by way of expiating my support of M. Thiers as a candidate,\nand my opposition to the measures that had brought destruction on the\nempire and threatened at this very moment to cover Paris with blood\nand ruins. By a strange freak of fortune, our struggles in opposite\ndirections had brought us to the same fate, which neither of us had\nhardly anticipated. If I had not been afraid of recalling a delicate\nremembrance, I would have assured him of my absolute forgiveness and\nof my devoted regards. Towards the end of our recreation, one of the\nshells from the battery of P\u00e8re-la-Chaise broke, with a loud\nexplosion, a stone in the wall under which we were walking. In\nordinary times we should have shuddered and taken flight, but now it\nscarcely excited attention. In separating, we bade one another\nfarewell till we met again--below, or in heaven: we did not know\nwhich.\n\nIn the evening we noticed fresh fires in Paris, and learned that the\ninsurgents were setting fire to all the monuments of those quarters       355\nwhere they had been repulsed by the army of Versailles. These fires\ndistressed and exasperated me. Forgetting the danger I was in, I broke\nout in bitter complaints before my companions, who could not succeed\nin calming me. I was indebted to the heroes of petroleum, picrate, and\nglycerine for the only moments of irritation and despondency I felt\nduring my captivity.\n\nThat morning they shot M. Jecker, the celebrated Mexican banker, in\nthe court of La Roquette, and in the evening a refactory national\nguardsman against the outer wall. I comprehended the execution of the\nlatter, but that of M. Jecker would have seemed to me an atrocious\nlogogriph, if we had been on earth and not in the realm of demons. At\neight o\u2019clock, a warden notified M. Amodru and myself to descend to be\nshot. \u201c_Finitum est_,\u201d \u201cAll is finished,\u201d said my kind neighbor to me.\nWe knelt down by the window common to both cells, and gave each other\nabsolution. The prisoners who understood the warden\u2019s order regarded\nus from their cells with curiosity. The most cynical laughed at the\nprayers we were making in view of immediate death. I put on my\nsacerdotal garments, wrote my relatives, friends, and _confr\u00e8res_ a\nfew farewell lines, and read in my breviary the prayers of the dying.\nAfter half an hour, I learned they had made a mistake, and instead of\nexposing M. Amodru and myself to the range of loaded chassepots, two\nlaymen were to be taken before a court-martial, which amounted to the\nsame thing, if I except a pretence of trial. I learned later, from an\nunder-officer and some _sergents de ville_, that the agents of the\nCommune announced, more than once, that prisoners were about to be\nshot, adding some time after with a malicious smile that they would\nlose nothing by waiting, and the ceremony was merely deferred till the\nnext day.\n\nI passed a part of the night in regarding the fires. The whole horizon\nwas aflame toward Bercy. The battery at P\u00e8re-la-Chaise, encouraged by\nthe progress of the flames, redoubled its violence. The firing of arms\nand the booming of the cannon at the same time resounded in the\ndirection of Montmartre and the H\u00f4tel de Ville. I wondered if I was\nawake or under the influence of a horrible nightmare. A complete\nexhaustion of physical strength prevented me from fully deciding. I\nonly mention this strange sensation because my companions in captivity\nalso experienced it.\n\nOn Friday morning, at an early hour, my neighbor and myself received a\nvisit from one of the subaltern employees of the prison. At first we\nfelt some confidence in him, and we gave him two or three francs a\nday, as much from a wish to do a kind act, as a reward for his\nservices, which were in a state of project. It did not require\nprofound sagacity to discover that he was at the bottom only a spy and\nan accomplice of the Commune. The equivocal manner in which he\npretended to console us in relating the progress of the Versailles\narmy, showed he had the highest ideas of our simplicity and candor.\nFinding us more depressed and reserved after the catastrophe of\nWednesday, he said to us in that tone, at once bantering and polite,\nwhich the Parisian _voyou_ has at command: \u201cIs it possible you give\ncredit to the stories in circulation respecting the death of the\nArchbishop of Paris and the Cur\u00e9 of the Madeleine? They are simply\nabsurd. Some of the national guards, who had been drinking too much,\nwere amusing themselves in discharging their guns against the prison      356\nwalls: I assure you, no one was shot.\u201d\n\nThen, knowing we were to undergo the same fate in a few hours, he\neagerly proposed to the clergy of our story a lottery which, according\nto his delicate calculations, would procure him some profits without\ndepriving him of the objects of art he was proud of fabricating. For\neight days I was obliged to swallow such humiliations, which revealed\npoor human nature in quite a new aspect. The selfish proposition of\nthis deceitful employee was rejected promptly, but we concluded to\ncontinue our daily gratuity, in gratitude for services he was always\npromising, and which were never performed.\n\nWhen he left our story, he always went directly to the office to give\nan account of what he had seen or heard. We had not only to resist\nferocity, but also craftiness and duplicity.\n\nIt was in the plans of the Commune that none of the hostages should\nescape death. The next Sunday, the first object that struck my eyes at\nthe office of La Roquette was the list of their names. There was a\nhorizontal mark against the names of those who were to be shot: when\nthe execution was accomplished, they added a vertical mark, thus\nforming a cross. Every name had a horizontal line before it. If my\nmemory does not deceive me, they followed the order of the list in the\nexecutions.\n\nAbout two o\u2019clock, three shells from the battery of P\u00e8re-la-Chaise hit\nthe prison roof only a few m\u00e8tres above our heads, and covered the\ncourt with tiles and fragments of the chimneys. Some of the prisoners\nprotested against the danger of these projectiles exploding in their\nclosed cells and had the doors opened; others did not seem to heed the\nstunning incident: absorbed in prayer, they were more preoccupied with\neternal than temporal things.\n\nThe shells that hit our prison were an indication of the rapid\nprogress of the French troops, but this progress threw us into the\nmost perplexing and intolerable of situations. We could only expect\nour safety from the Versailles army; we ought, then, in consideration\nof the general interests of civilization, and our own interests, to\ndesire ardently its triumph. But it was no less evident that the\nnearer the army approached, the more imminent became our end. Thus the\nperspective which was our only hope of safety, inevitably announced at\nthe same time our destruction. If the illimitable consolations of\nreligion had not raised us above our misfortunes, we should have been\na prey to the anticipated horrors of everlasting woe. In such cruel\nhours we comprehend the words of the God-Man, who, in the garden of\nGethsemani and on Golgotha, drank to the dregs the chalice of all\nhumiliations, all sorrows, and every kind of anguish, in order to\nsanctify them. \u201cMy God, my God, why hast thou abandoned me?\u201d should\nnot be separated from these other words, which exclude all despondency\nand presage a wonderful recompense: \u201cFather, into thy hands I commend\nmy spirit!\u201d\n\n\n                                 IV.\n\n        LA ROQUETTE--INSURRECTION--DELIVERANCE--CONCLUSION.\n\nThe close of the day on Friday was exceedingly gloomy. The same events\ntook place in the interior court of the prison as on Thursday evening.\nAt the sight of the mysterious agent who held a list in his hand, each\none said to himself: \u201cMy name is probably inscribed on that list: may     357\nGod have mercy on me!\u201d I again heard the fatal interrogation from the\nmouth of an insurgent officer: \u201cAre the soldiers at their post?\u201d From\nthe cells in the building opposite some friendly hands indicated to us\nby signs that the number to be shot amounted to twelve, fifteen,\nsixteen!... It was hardly a fourth of those immolated to the hatred of\nthe Commune. Unfortunately, the facts that each one witnessed were\nlimited, as our horizon was restricted to the four corners of our\ncell, or at most to a part of the story we were in: each one,\ntherefore, could only give some particulars of the changes of fortune\nand the victims executed.\n\nOn Saturday morning, one of the employees of the library, who\nmanifested a solicitude beyond all praise, gave me, with tears in his\neyes, the most minute details about the extent of the sad event. At\nfive o\u2019clock, an emissary of the Commune entered the first story of\nthe western side, and called out: \u201cCitoyens, attention to the roll:\nhere, fifteen are wanted!\u201d Among these victims were the Jesuit Fathers\nOlivaint, Caubert, and De Bengy; the four principal Fathers of the\nSociety of Picpus: Abb\u00e9 Sabattier, the second vicar of Notre Dame de\nLorette: Abb\u00e9 Seigneret, a young pupil of the Seminary of St. Sulpice;\nand Abb\u00e9 Planchat, a genuine missionary, who displayed all the zeal of\nan apostle, not in China or Japan, but among the working-classes of\nthe Faubourg St. Antoine. About forty gendarmes, soldiers, officers of\nthe peace, and Parisian guardsmen were also summoned, the most of whom\nwere imprisoned in the first story of our building to the east. They\nwere conducted to Belleville, preceded by drums and trumpets, into one\nof the courts of the Rue Haxo. All the long way, a furious crowd,\namong whom women made themselves conspicuous by a frenzy bordering on\ndrunkenness, vomited forth threats and imprecations. After shooting\nthem with chassepots and revolvers, they mutilated their bodies with\nkicks and the butt-end of their muskets, and afterwards threw them\npell-mell into a cellar, whence they were taken out three days after\nin a state of advanced putrefaction.\n\nThe most incredulous saw their last hour approaching, and I prepared\nmyself once more to die. The insurgents stole or burned the things\nleft in the cells. I placed my watch, papers, and my testamentary\ndispositions in the care of the employee at the library, with the\nnames of the persons to whom he was to transmit them. I earnestly\ndesired my body might receive a suitable burial, and, not knowing what\nmeans to take that it might be recognized, I communicated my anxiety\nto the Abb\u00e9 Amodru, my neighbor. He had foreseen, and provided for,\nthe difficulty, and, following his example, I wrote my name in legible\ncharacters upon several small slips of paper, which I put into my\nshoes and the different pockets of my habit.\n\nIt was the eve of Whit-Sunday. Having no longer the strength to kneel,\nI seated myself on my bed, and took sometimes my breviary, and then\n_The Following of Christ_ in my hands. I prayed God for courage and a\nspirit of sacrifice. In reading the Thirtieth Psalm, I was struck with\nthese words: \u201cLet me not be confounded, O Lord, for I have called upon\nthee!... Thou shalt protect them in thy tabernacle from the\ncontradiction of tongues. Blessed be the Lord, for he hath shown his\nwonderful mercy to me, a fortified city.\u201d But I immediately distrusted\nthe hopes that so readily pervaded my soul I wished to remain facing\nthe sad realities of death.\n\nThe constantly increasing noise of the firing announced the approach      358\nof the contending parties. The barricades of the Ch\u00e2teau d\u2019Eau had\nbeen valiantly taken by the Versailles troops: the Commune, in session\nat the Mairie du Prince Eug\u00e8ne, was obliged to beat a retreat. By a\ngreat effort, the scattered members sucoeeded in gaining the office of\nLa Roquette, to conduct the labors of the cosmopolitan banditti.\nBetween the army of deliverance and us were still those men of blood,\nwhose last ravings were so many decrees of death and incendiarism. It\nis said that Ferr\u00e9 sprang like a tiger about to lose his prey, crying\nin a hoarse voice: \u201cMake haste! shoot them, the _chouans_! Cut their\nthroats, the robbers! do not leave one standing! Citoyens and\ncitoyennes of the faubourgs, come and avenge your sons and your\nfathers, basely assassinated!\u201d The unhappy men had no time to lose;\nthe Versailles troops, on the one hand, were entering the Boulevard du\nPrince Eug\u00e8ne; on the other, they surrounded P\u00e8re-la-Chaise; but, by\nan intolerable fatality, the source of our safety was at the same time\nthat of our destruction.\n\nA few minutes past three, the heavy bolts of our cells flew back with\nunaccustomed quickness. I was on my knees, saying, with a voice almost\nextinct, the office of the Eve of Whit-Sunday. My neighbor quickly\nopened the door of my cell. \u201cCourage,\u201d he said, \u201cit is now our turn;\nthey are going to take us all down to shoot us!\u201d\n\n\u201cCourage,\u201d I replied, \u201cand may the will of God be done!\u201d I had on my\nclerical costume, and advanced into the corridor where priests,\nsoldiers, and national guards were all mingled together. The priests\nand national guards appeared calm and resigned, but the soldiers could\nnot believe in the fate that awaited them. \u201cWhat have we done to those\nwretches? we fought against the Prussians! we fulfilled our duty! What\nare they going to shoot us for? No, it is not possible!\u201d Some uttered\ncries of anger, others remained silent and motionless as if they were\nin a dream. The priests knelt to fortify themselves by a last\nabsolution; one of them urged the soldiers to imitate us, and\naddressed them some words of encouragement.\n\nA voice with a metallic ring suddenly rose above this confused noise:\n\u201cMy friends, those ignoble villains have already killed too many; do\nnot allow yourselves to be murdered; join me; let us resist; let us\nfight. Rather than give you up, I will die with you!\u201d It was the voice\nof the warden Pinet. This generous son of Lorraine, aghast at so many\ncrimes, could no longer stifle his indignation. Charged to open our\ncells slowly and deliver us two by two to the insurgents, who were\nwaiting for us below, he had fastened the door of the third story\nbehind him, rapidly opened our cells to advise us and aid in\norganizing a resistance, ready to sacrifice his life in aiding us to\nsave ours. At first, I could not believe in so much heroism. The Abb\u00e9\nAmodru spoke in his turn, and joined his protestations to those of\nPinet: \u201cLet us not submit to be shot, my friends, let us defend\nourselves. Have confidence in God; he is for us and with us; he will\nsave us!\u201d\n\nThere was a difference of opinion; some hesitated. To defend\nourselves, objected one, would be madness; we should only incur a more\ncruel death. Instead of being simply shot, we shall be slaughtered by\na mob or consumed in the flames. \u201cLet us call up the national guards,\u201d\nexclaimed a simple fellow (I had not believed such _naivet\u00e9_ possible     359\nat La Roquette), \u201cand prove to them that we are honest men, and not\nrobbers and assassins.\u201d \u201cIt is not _our_ lives they wish,\u201d cried a\nsoldier, whose impartial truthfulness renders it obligatory on me to\nrepeat his words, and who had as little discernment as moral sense,\n\u201cit is only the _cur\u00e9s_ they have a grudge against; let us not expose\nour lives in trying to defend theirs!\u201d\n\nI had not yet uttered a word, but followed with an anxiety, easy to\ncomprehend, the phases of this strange situation. Some of my brethren\nasked what there was to fear or to hope for. \u201cThe _sergents de ville_\nwho are below are disposed to defend themselves,\u201d cried the warden\nPinet, whom the hesitation rendered more energetic and more eloquent.\n\u201cDo not allow yourselves to be shot by that band of robbers.\u201d I was\nalready convinced that resistance, the success of which I thought more\nthan improbable, was nevertheless the most suitable measure to be\ntaken. From the eighteenth of March I had not ceased to protest\nagainst the silence and giving up of honest men to criminals; and to\nshow myself to the end faithful to my programme, I emerged from my\napparent inaction. M. Walbert, an old _officier de paix_, and the Abb\u00e9\nCarr\u00e9, the Vicar of Belleville, suggested that a hole should be made\nin the floor to open communication with the _sergents de ville_\nimprisoned on the second story, and they immediately set to work with\nboards and iron rods that we wrenched from our beds. I joined them. I,\nwho in the morning had no longer strength enough to stand, and who had\nnot yet eaten a mouthful of bread, broke boards in pieces and twisted\noff the rods with irresistible facility! In five minutes a large\nopening was made between the second and third stories. The _sergents de\nville_ were ready to pay dearly for their lives. The under-officer\nTeyssier hoisted himself through the opening to aid Pinet in the\ncommand of the insurrection.\n\nThe interior court of the prison was crowded by an abject multitude\ncome to witness our last sufferings. It is easier to imagine than to\ndepict the appearance and the threats of this crowd. We put mattresses\nagainst the windows as a protection against bullets. There was a young\nman in the crowd who ordered us to come down, and aimed at us with a\ncoolness that attracted my attention. \u201cSee that wretch,\u201d said the\nwarden Pinet to me, \u201che is one of the two condemned to death by the\ncourt of assize of the Seine!.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe barricade is on fire,\u201d exclaimed some soldiers. \u201cWe are stifled!\nHelp!\u201d\n\nTwo enormous barricades had been constructed against the two doors of\nthe story, with our beds and the flagstones torn up from the floor. I\nran to the barricade on fire, and found myself in a cloud of smoke.\n\u201cDo not be alarmed,\u201d said a soldier, whose skill and presence of mind\nI admired, \u201cI constructed the barricade, and took care to place only\nmattresses in front: bring me some water.\u201d In fifteen minutes the fire\nwas extinguished. I heard the insurgents, who sometimes threatened to\nset fire to our building, to blow it up, or order the batteries of\nP\u00e8re-la-Chaise to fire at it: sometimes they perfidiously cried:\n\u201c_Vive la ligne!_ surrender, and we will set you free!\u201d The massacres\nof those who trusted to their promises proved how sincere they were.\n\nAt that moment, something as unexpected as fortunate took place in the\nprison. While we were organizing a desperate resistance, and the\nsoldiers, more bold than prudent, were crying, \u201cLet us go down to the     360\noffice, and boldly attack the Commune!\u201d the Communists, frightened at\nour resistance and the rapid progress of the French army along the\nBoulevard du Prince Eug\u00e8ne, hastily fled from La Roquette in the\ndirection of Belleville. The rabble, astonished at this sudden\nremoval, were convinced of the great danger, and fled after them. The\nprisoners were restored to liberty, and naturally cried: _Vive la\nR\u00e9publique! vive la Commune!_\n\nAvailing themselves of this confusion, the lay hostages who were to\nhave been shot with us escaped from La Roquette: almost all succeeded\nin crossing the barricades or hiding till the next day in the late\nhaunts of insurrection. Some of the clergy imitated them; others,\nparticularly Mgr. Surat, who was dressed as a layman, hesitated. The\nwardens, from motives more praiseworthy than prudent, urged them to\nfly. This course seemed to me disastrous. The neighborhood of the\nprison was in the hands of the insurgents, whose irritation knew no\nbounds. I thought it my duty to warn the first vicar-general of Paris,\nand said to him through the bars: \u201cTake care; to leave is certain\ndeath; to remain, uncertain!\u201d I ascertained afterwards that I had not\nbeen heard. In going out of the prison, he was murdered in a frightful\nmanner, with M. B\u00e9court, the cur\u00e9 of Bonne Nouvelle; M. Houillon, a\nmissionary of the Missions Etrang\u00e8res, and a lay prisoner. Some\npriests succeeded in concealing themselves in the Faubourg St.\nAntoine, and some returned to the prison.\n\nNotwithstanding the departure of the insurgents who were to put us to\ndeath, we were still exposed to sudden attack and every danger while\nthe prison gates were unfastened. I therefore protested in violent\nterms to the two wardens, who, frightened at the terrible consequences\nthat would result from a return of the insurgents, urged us strongly\nto descend and go out. \u201cWe will not go out,\u201d I replied; \u201cthe\nVersailles troops will be here in a few hours: if any misfortune\nhappens to us by your fault, on you will fall the responsibility.\nFasten all the prison doors, and only open them to the Versaillais.\u201d\n\nThey warmly reproached me for an obstinacy they thought must prove\nfatal to us, but they faithfully obeyed my orders.\n\nAt eleven o\u2019clock at night, the firing, which was not far off, ceased.\nThe frenzied demagogues without uttered powerless threats against us.\nWe kept a strict guard, and seriously began to hope. At a quarter\nbefore three, the firing recommenced toward P\u00e8re-la-Chaise. Every hour\nnow seemed an age. There was a formidable barricade in the Rue de la\nRoquette in front of the prison. Attacked on the side of the Bastille,\nit would have opposed a formidable resistance on account of its\nsteepness, but, owing to the winding and concentric course of the\nFrench army, the insurgents, stormed from the heights occupied by our\ntroops, left the barricade in disorder, and a battalion of marines\ntook possession of La Roquette. Our resistance, that at first was only\nmadness, ended miraculously. It was the great festival of Whit-Sunday.\nAfter four days of the greatest agony that can be imagined, we were,\ncontrary to all expectation, restored to life and liberty.\n\nWhile some of the prisoners cried, \u201cVive l\u2019armee! Vive la France!\u201d the\nmost of them, affected by want of sleep and the mental torture that no\nhuman tongue could express, persisted in regarding our liberators as\ninsurgents disguised as marines. Then began a singular negotiation\nbetween the prisoners and the marines, in which the former, more          361\nincredulous than St. Thomas, saw nothing but snares, and the latter\nwith immovable patience submitted to requirements that were almost\npuerile. The arms, flags, books, and papers of the battalion were\ndemanded. The marines consented, but the prisoners, blinded and\nconfused, were still far from being reassured concerning the identity\nof the marines.\n\nSome of my companions and myself, who could not believe a disguise\ncould be so perfect, were distressed at this prolonged hesitation, far\nfrom flattering to our courageous deliverers. We induced our\ncompanions to allow us to go out, that they might judge from our\nreception what course to take themselves. At the sight of the marines\nwho rush toward us, not to massacre us, but to shake our hands and\nrejoice over our deliverance, the confidence of our companions\nrevived, and they came to receive their share of cordial sympathy.\n\nMy surprise was great when I heard General Vinoy\u2019s aide-de-camp\neagerly inquire for Mgr. Darboy and M. Deguerry. \u201cWhere are they? How\ndo they do?\u201d It was four days since they were massacred by the\nCommune, and the frightful reality was still unknown at Versailles and\nParis. Knowing the profound affection of the brave General Vinoy for\nthe Archbishop of Paris, his aide-de-camp begged me to give him some\ncorrect details, which he immediately despatched to the general and to\nVersailles.\n\nThey were still fighting furiously around La Roquette. We were obliged\nto wait nearly an hour at the office, where we found, in fearful\ndisorder, cartridges, cigars, swords, guns, proscription lists,\nproclamations, and the decrees of the expiring Commune, never to be\nissued.\n\nAccompanied by an escort bearing before us the French flag, we set out\nin a body by the heights of the Faubourg St. Antoine, the Jardin des\nPlantes, and the quais on the left bank of the river, toward our\nhomes. At each step we had to struggle against the most poignant\nemotions. Here, in the boulevards, were heaps of men and horses who\nhad been killed, with pools of blood beside piles of cartridges and\nbroken chassepots. There, trees were broken down and houses shattered\nby shells. The few inhabitants we met seemed confounded and in\ndespair. Further on, we uttered a cry of horror at the sight of the\nH\u00f4tel de Ville, the Palais de Justice, the entrance of the Rue du Bac,\nthe Tuileries, and the palaces of the Conseil d\u2019Etat and of the L\u00e9gion\nd\u2019Honneur in flames or in ashes.\n\nIn the Rue des Saintes-P\u00e8res, a gentleman and lady whom I knew, but\nwhose names I could not recall, stopped to ask if I was one of the\nJesuit Fathers, and if I came from La Roquette. They wished news of\nP\u00e8re Caubert. I informed them he was shot on Friday with P\u00e8re\nOlivaint. At this, the gentleman raised his eyes to heaven, while the\nlady made an effort to overcome her emotion. \u201cYou see before you,\u201d\nsaid he, \u201cP\u00e8re Caubert\u2019s sister!\u201d It was M. Lauras, one of the\ndirectors of the Orleans Railway, and Madame Lauras, _n\u00e9e_ Caubert.\n\nI accompanied the soldiers, who had participated in my captivity, to\nthe Palais Bourbon, and after a fraternal grasp of the hand I turned\ntoward the Madeleine. The Place de la Concorde was upset, and a part\nof the Rue Royale burned down with petroleum. I found the Madeleine\nstanding, and my residence in the Rue de la Ville-l\u2019Ev\u00eaque, but both\ninjured by the firing. No one knew of, and what was more strange, no      362\none would believe in, the horrible deaths of Mgr. Darboy and M.\nDeguerry. My two _confr\u00e8res_ at the Madeleine expressed the same\ndoubt, the same incredulity. When at vespers I was about to ascend the\npulpit to recommend the victims to the prayers of the faithful, they\nadvised me to defer it, hoping the fatal news would not be confirmed.\n\nI had told it to more than one hundred persons, begging them to\ninform, in their turn, the other parishioners of the Madeleine, but\nwhen, in an affecting but cautious and brief manner, I requested the\nfaithful gathered at the foot of the altar to pray for the pastor of\nthe diocese and the cur\u00e9 of the parish, basely shot on the\ntwenty-fourth of May, in the prison of La Roquette, a cry of grief and\nhorror escaped from every soul; the men and the women rose up in\nconfusion, as if to protest against it; the gravest and most\nreverential for a moment seemed to lose their balance. Among the\nconfused voices around the pulpit, these words were the most distinct:\n\u201cNo, no, such a crime is not possible!\u201d\n\nMy moral conclusions will be simple and brief. It would be an insult\nto the reader to dwell on the great lessons to be drawn from such\nsorrowful and overwhelming catastrophes.\n\nFirst Lesson. Divine Providence never chastised and enlightened a\nnation by severer blows. It behooves us therefore to consider the\ngrave and exceptional malady that is afflicting society, and seek an\nefficacious and permanent remedy for it. We are all suffering from the\nevil, and we all should be preoccupied about the means of recovery.\n\nSome days after leaving La Roquette, I wished to revisit the places\nwhere I had been imprisoned, in order to retrace, with precision, the\nevents that took place in the last days of the Commune. I met\nthere one of the most intelligent and most religious _juges\nd\u2019instruction_ on the bench of the Seine. I visited with him the\nplaces of the greatest interest, Mgr. Darboy\u2019s cell, and the spot on\nthe circular road where the murder of the six principal hostages took\nplace. The warden took us to Troppmann\u2019s cell. \u201cI supposed, till\nwithin a few days,\u201d said I to the magistrate of the Seine, \u201cthat\ncriminals like Troppmann were of a rare species that required fifty or\nsixty years to develop in the lowest grades of society. After the\nrealities I witnessed at La Roquette, I am convinced they are to be\nfound by thousands in Paris.\u201d The _juge d\u2019instruction_ replied that\nall the magistrates who studied the mysteries of those grades had the\nsame conviction. It would therefore be simply folly not to consider\nthe remedy most suitable to counteract such a disorder.\n\nSecond Lesson. In the horrible catastrophe that has just revealed so\nmany material or moral sores, every one is more or less responsible\nand culpable. Every one should say his _me\u00e2 culp\u00e2_, and seek to become\nbetter. The most guilty are certainly the turbulent working classes,\nthe demagogues, the International, the secret societies, outlaws, and\ngovernments without morality, but they alone are not guilty. Literary\nmen who diffuse in their pernicious publications the poison of\nscepticism and immorality; artists who are wanting in respect and\ndecency; the journals of the rich and influential _bourgeoisie_, which\ndefend the principles of material conservation, while by their attacks\non the Holy See, the clergy, and the church generally, they sap the\nvery foundations of morality; politicians who brutally proclaim, with\na view to the rewards and the gratification of their cupidity, the        363\nprimacy of might against right--should disavow and correct their\nerrors. Pious people and the clergy should redouble their solicitude\nand energy in extending and strengthening their influence,\nparticularly in the most populous districts. There are no other means\nof safety.\n\nThird Lesson. The reign of the Commune has revealed a frightful number\nof wicked men in society capable of every excess. They have trampled\nunder foot the very first principles of natural order and social life,\nwhich the Reign of Terror would have feared to disregard. The\nexecutions at La Roquette, without preparation, without discussion or\npreliminary trial, were a thousand times more monstrous than the\nexecutions of the Revolutionary tribunal. In 1793, the Dantons and\nRobespierres were imitators, more or less imposing, of the Catilines\nof ancient Rome: in 1871, we have had Raoul Rigault and Ferr\u00e9, the\nCatilines of the gutter. Ferocious beasts are not reasoned with--they\nare muzzled. Society therefore should have a power of legal repression\nproportioned to the dangers that threaten it.\n\nBut as the material order of things is founded on the moral order, the\ngreat principles of reverence for God, a respect for others and for\nourselves, should be diffused and practised. It has been wished to\nestablish society with no religious belief, make laws, found\ninstitutions, and keep the people in order, without reference to the\nteachings of the Gospel: this is building the social edifice upon\nquicksands. How can an economist, a politician, however incredulous,\nhelp understanding that while the mass in the great cities, especially\nat Paris, do not find in the faith, in the observance of religious\nduties, and in the eternal recompense of a future life, a source of\nmorality, strength and consolation in view of the inequalities of\nfortune and social position, in view of the enjoyments and leisure of\nthe fortunate ones of this world and of the unforeseen trials and\nsufferings that too often beset them, there can be neither security\nnor repose?\n\nJesus Christ and his Gospel are still the salt of the earth and the\nlight of the world. To withdraw society from this divine and guiding\ninfluence would condemn it to sorrow, crime, and shame.\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n                          GOD IS OUR AID.                                 364\n\n                     A CHRISTMAS STORY OF \u201867.\n\n\nIn the dim twilight of an October evening, a rich man prepared to\nleave the vast treasures accumulated by a fruitless life. Fruitless, I\nsay, for though his increasing millions ranked him a merchant prince\nof the great metropolis, yet the gold had hardened and crusted and\nmetallized his heart--fusing a subtle poison that destroyed the softer\ninstincts of his nature. Therefore, instead of bearing upward a\nGodward soul on prayerful incense, those last pulses concentrated in\none bitter feeling against the daughter whose faith had won from him\nthe intense hate of his life. The owner of millions each year\nincreased his avarice, bowing him low before the god of the nineteenth\ncentury, and inciting the struggle, the sacrifice, the sin, for place\nand station and gold, literally proving the poet-king\u2019s cry,[82]\n\u201c_Quoniam omnes dii Gentium d\u00e6monia!_\u201d So, while the stormy gusts\nswept up the avenue, and the lowering sky increased the night, the old\nman gathered his failing strength for the last great effort. \u201cHold me,\nWilliam, support me ere it is too late. Quick! give me the pen, I must\nsign while yet my hand has power.\u201d Then they put the pen in his\ntrembling hand, his stalwart son supporting him, and all the fiercer\npassions played upon that cold face, and in those cruel eyes, as he\nwrote the signature disinheriting the child of the wife whose fair\nface looked in silent reproach from the portrait opposite. And William\nStanfield folded the paper and locked it in the escritoire, and old\nThomas of the iron heart \u201cslept the last sleep.\u201d But this Stanfield,\nhe of the stern Puritan stock, had not always been thus. First, he\nmarried his wife as a mere boy of twenty--a gentle New England\ngirl--who had left William to him; William, so staunch in his loyalty\nto the heritage left by the _Mayflower_ stock. But Thomas laid his\nboyish love to rest within the quiet \u201cGod\u2019s-acre\u201d of the village\nchurch, and then wandered to New York to build his fortune. Fate did\nnot withhold her favors from this sturdy son, who met and conquered\nher; for he was determined to succeed, and did!\n\nAnd strange to say that at this time human softness yet lived amid the\ndross and corruption of the world, for Thomas Stanfield was by no\nmeans indifferent to certain influences. So, one bright Christmas\nmorning, he found himself in New Orleans, and, stranger still to\nrelate, his partner, Mons. Cr\u00e9cy, persuaded him to listen to the\nmagnificent service at ---- Church. The music was exquisitely\nappealing, thrilling the nobler attributes of man\u2019s better nature; and\nso this worldly materialist forgot to speculate or dream of gold for\ntwo long hours, and sat rapt, while his soul absorbed its divine\ninspiration. If there is a season when the hardness of humanity\ndissolves and merges into its spiritual essence, it is when music\ngently lifts it to its higher affinities, and brings it _en\nrapport_ with God. And thus the man of gold listened to the soft\nsoprano, and far beyond the latticed grating caught a glimpse of dark\neyes that haunted him long after the anthem ended. And when Etienne       365\nCr\u00e9cy asked him to dine at the \u201cGrove,\u201d his plantation near the city,\nhe accepted, scarcely realizing what he did till he found himself\nbehind a pair of splendid bays, with New Orleans far in the distance.\n\nThe balmy, bright-skied South always brought a pleasant Christmas, for\noranges hung golden on the trees that formed the grove leading to the\nhouse, and the sweet breath of the blossoms perfumed the air. This to\nthe Northerner, accustomed to ice and snow at this season, was a most\nenjoyable contrast; and his stroll over the beautiful grounds afforded\nreal pleasure. Then they rested on the broad piazza, or gallery, as it\nis called in Louisiana, and talked of business details, when suddenly\nMons. Cr\u00e9cy discovered that his guest was strangely distrait, for a\nclear, soft voice was sounding, to an accompanying harp, and Mr.\nStanfield recognized the same silver tones that had absorbed him\nduring the morning service. \u201c_Qui tollis peccata mundi, suscipe\ndeprecationem nostram_,\u201d fell earnest and tender on his ear--it was,\nit must be, the same, and he turned to M. Cr\u00e9cy. \u201cIt is my daughter\nMadelaine,\u201d said the old man; and at dinner he saw the same fawn-eyes\nthat had first glanced from behind the grating in the old church. And\nthose shy, sweet eyes found a place in the heart of the cold New\nEnglander, and in the spring he bore her a bride to his beautiful home\nin New York.\n\nThree years passed, and only the step-son shared their household. Some\ntrouble attended the marriage, for the parish priest, Father Jean, at\nfirst refused to unite her with such an obstinate heretic. But the\nmaiden loved this son of the Puritans, so either her gentle influence\nor his pertinacious perseverance overcame the scruples of the good\npriest, and Thomas Stanfield finally triumphed, giving some vague\npromise in reference to the children. He fully intended evading the\nfulfilment of the promise, for soon after his marriage he acknowledged\nthus much to his wife, who, with tears in her dark eyes, said she\nwould only pray for God\u2019s grace to change him. So, almost as a curse\nit seemed, for three years no child came to bless the marriage. True,\nthe young wife was very dear to this stern husband, but the element\nwhich had strengthened his forefathers still waxed strong within him,\nand the self-asserting dogmatism heired from John Carver\u2019s band\nsounded in the stern words that answered his wife when, with quivering\nlips, she told him of his little daughter\u2019s advent. He kissed the pale\nyoung mother tenderly and lovingly, but even in that hour he did not\nrestrain himself from replying, \u201cShe belongs to me!\u201d and Madelaine\nunderstood too well what those words implied. So she only whispered,\nas her white face grew whiter, \u201c_I will leave her to God._ May\nour Holy Mother care for her!\u201d\n\nThen the gentle soul departed with the cross upon her bosom, and those\nlast words on her lips, and many, many years after Thomas Stanfield\nheard repeated in his dreams, \u201cGod shall help her.\u201d\n\nAnd a judgment rested on the rich man\u2019s harvest, for this\nwarm-hearted, earnest Southern wife was very dear to him. But the\nchild grew in loveliness, and her impulsive nature felt the need of\nmore than her cold father accorded. Firm as he had been in reference\nto the child, it seemed strange that he evinced so much indifference\nto her education, for though she had been baptized in his own church,\nand sent to Protestant schools, yet very little care was bestowed\nupon her religious instruction. When she grew old enough, she             366\naccompanied her father to church, and through the long sermons her\nweary little eyes would often close. She went merely from habit,\nbecause her father wished her with him, for there was nothing in the\ncold, formal ritual, if that bare service can be called a ritual, to\nattract or warm her heart; but it was part of her duty to go; and so\nshe went. Thus her childhood passed, and so her girlhood opened.\nChildren rarely exert the reasoning faculties, accepting with\nboundless trust what is proposed by their elders. Faith and confidence\nare largely developed, therefore a grave record is written of those\nintrusted with these young immortals. But when reason waked and the\nheart expanded, this warm loving nature asked for more than what was\noffered, and her soul felt starved, hungry for the food it found not.\nThomas Stanfield was now devoted to his business, from nine in the\nmorning, when his _coup\u00e9_ drove him to his office, to six in the\nevening, when his key opened the massive door of his palace--his whole\nsoul entered into the fascination, the strife for increasing millions.\nAnd at night, as he sat silent in his high carved chair, the closed\neyes and set features told that the scheming still continued. Was it\nstrange, then, that the young girl yearned for something more than her\nhome offered? Well, one September evening, soon after their return\nfrom the country, the servant handed in a card, bearing the simple\ninscription, \u201cKenneth C. Arnaud.\u201d Then Mr. Stanfield, disturbed in the\nmidst of some speculation, testified by a grunt his welcome to a\ndistant relative of his wife. \u201cThis is Miss Stanfield, my daughter,\u201d\nhe said, as he seemed to remember that another person occupied the\nroom. The stranger was a courtly, handsome gentleman, and started as\nhis eyes rested on the young girl. \u201cHow like my cousin Madelaine,\u201d he\nsaid, \u201cas I remember her in my childhood.\u201d For the first time the old\nman seemed to realize the resemblance, and turned to examine the fair\ngirl who was his daughter. \u201cYes,\u201d he faintly assented, and the\nconversation dragged through a half-hour\u2019s duration, when Mr. Arnaud\nrose to go. But this was not his last visit, for he passed the winter\nin the city; and many evenings found him at Mr. Stanfield\u2019s house,\nwhere Madelaine sang to him the songs he loved best. Then a new life\nopened to the young girl, and her heart felt a strange happiness it\nhad never known before.\n\nThe Advent season came--a time of joy and gladness in the churches\nthat celebrate this season, but scarcely remembered or noticed in\ndissenting congregations; and on the first Sunday that Mr. Arnaud\nformed one of the family party, he proposed that Madelaine should\naccompany him to St. ----\u2019s church, as the music was always attractive\nthere. Old Mr. Stanfield was half asleep, when the name of this Roman\nCatholic church startled him. \u201cOnly to listen to the music, papa!\u201d she\nlaughingly replied to his frown, and she went. The ritual was new to\nher, the service a strange mystery, but she patiently watched it all,\nlistening to the exquisite bursts from the choir. Then sounded the\n\u201cAlma\u201d with its sweet cadence, and the heart of the young girl\nthrilled within her. She could not explain, but she felt a strange\nattraction that drew her against her will to this beautiful ritual.\nThen came the lovely benediction, and the devotion of the kneeling\nhundreds, the solemn censer\u2019s cloudlike offering, the elevation, and\nthe echoing bell, at which a hush swept like an angel\u2019s presence over     367\nthe rapt thousands. It was all a lovely dream to this young\nenthusiast, and, closing her eyes, troops of seraphim and cherubim\nseemed prolonging the words--\n\n         \u201cTantum ergo Sacramentum\n          Veneremur cernui.\u201d\n\nShe returned to her home filled with a new life, and for the first\ntime her soul felt its thralls. She was very quiet that night, and\neven her father remarked the change. Poor child! she had needed all\nthat had been denied to her, and the starved spirit was just tasting\nof the food immortal. Is it not often thus in life, that a charm, a\nmere instinct, leads us to the path for which we have been vainly\nstriving? Give me thine heart! was the cry of the Holy Mother to the\nfootsore and weary, to all who sought consolation from that loving\nbreast; and the listening angels caught the echo of that cry, and bore\nit up to the great Pontiff, who sends the Comforter to spread the\nwhite-winged dove on the troubled soul that calls for peace!\n\nThe spring came, after the long, cold winter, and Kenneth Arnaud asked\nthe old man for his gentle daughter. But Mr. Stanfield had always\nregarded Madelaine as a mere child, and seemed shocked and angry at\nthe request. He had forgotten that eighteen years had passed since his\nsoft-eyed wife had whispered, \u201cI leave her to God\u201d--and now a Catholic\nhad asked his child in marriage! He did not answer the young man for\nseveral weeks, not till the sweet eyes of his daughter had been dimmed\nwith many tears, and her childish heart had felt, ay, painfully felt,\nthe first great sorrow of her life.\n\n\u201cIt seems strange that my faith should prove an objection, Mr.\nStanfield, for not very many years have passed since you gave your own\nexample.\u201d\n\nThe old man looked him steadily in the eyes, and replied:\n\n\u201cAnd the great unhappiness of that union was the education of the\nchildren that were to come. What say you of this?\u201d\n\n\u201cThat, your daughter shall determine.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou can speak this with safety, Mr. Arnaud, for my daughter has\nproved a quick pupil.\u201d\n\n\u201cI can scarcely comprehend you, Mr. Stanfield, and, as a gentleman,\nwill not understand the accusation implied.\u201d\n\n\u201cI do not accuse you of influencing my daughter, but her bias in favor\nof the Romish Church is a subject that cannot afford me happiness.\u201d\n\nThe conversation was serious, and very painful to both, and at last\nMr. Stanfield closed the interview with this remark: \u201cAs my daughter\u2019s\nhappiness is concerned, I cannot withhold my consent, but I wish you\nto clearly understand that, when she renounces the church of her\nforefathers, she also relinquishes all right to her father\u2019s estate.\u201d\n\nA proud smile curled the young man\u2019s lips as he replied, \u201cI feel\nprivileged to claim her, even though the conditions were far more\ncapable of inflicting unhappiness.\u201d\n\nAnd so they were married, and the old man and his son William bowed\nbefore the golden calf, and worshipped it, offering their souls as\nhomage at its shrine.\n\nFor the young wife, one brief year of happiness passed, and yet there\nwas unrest even then within her soul, for she craved with hungry\nlonging the new life which she feared to taste, because the ties          368\nbinding her to her father appealed to her heart, and she dreaded an\nanger which she knew would never forgive what he considered so fearful\nan error.\n\nBut one cold morning in the winter of \u201861, the telegraph bore to New\nYork tidings of the secession of Louisiana, then the sons of the sunny\nSouth rallied to her standard, and for four long years a bloody war\ndesolated that section. She, the young wife, had never given her\nthoughts to politics, nor did she understand why hate and bitterness\nwaged with such deadly strife between the two portions of a country\nwhich she so dearly loved; but her husband decided for her, and,\nfeeling that her life was only a part of his, she followed. And those\nwere years fraught with agony--years that recorded suffering that aged\nmore than time had power to accomplish; for over each battlefield\nbrooded a great host of prayer--prayer born of love intensified, and\nof partings which would know only the meeting above; and the race\nschooled by those years grew, developed, lived, more than generations\nordinarily experience in a whole lifetime.\n\nCol. Arnaud won a soldier\u2019s reputation, and the autumn of \u201864 found\nhim, with his fine regiment, encamped a few miles below the\nConfederate capital. Madelaine soon followed him to Richmond, bringing\nher little family, her boy Kenneth and a baby daughter. The winter was\nvery trying to this delicate woman, for the city was crowded with\nrefugees from all parts of the Confederacy; every square inch was\noccupied, and therefore comfortable accommodations were impossible to\nfind. Then the depreciated currency rendered the price of necessities\nalmost fabulous, so that barely to live required great sacrifice and\ncontrol. But the courageous wife and devoted mother gathered her little\nones, and contentedly dwelt in one small room, happy to welcome her\nhusband whenever his brief furloughs allowed him to spend a day with\nher. But the great culmination approached, and the troops that wore\nthe tattered gray were soon to furl the cross of stars that had\nproudly waved over many a gallant fight; and on one cold wintry\nmorning she heard the newsboys shout \u201cExtra! extra!\u201d and soon Franklin\nStreet was echoing with news of the fierce battle below Richmond.\nMadelaine had not seen her husband for almost four weeks, and her\nheart sank as she listened. \u201cI will get a paper,\u201d she said, and,\nleaving her nurse with the children, she descended to the street to\npurchase one.\n\nPoor young thing--she little realized how literally she had followed\nthe Scriptures, for she had forsaken all things, and he, her brave\nhusband, was all she had to cling to; and now--but she was too truly a\nwoman for control, and she fainted when she read the cruel words that\ntold of her husband\u2019s fate. A night of horror followed, and the roll\nof the ambulance in the early gray of the next morning startled her\nfrom her troubled sleep. They, those of his brigade, in their faded\ngray bore him to the small chamber where his young wife waited, and\npale and ghastly she saw him laid upon the bed, where he was soon to\nsleep the long pulseless sleep. All that glory could render to sweeten\nthe pain of dying was offered, for the journals rang with the grand\ncharge he had led, and his deeds of daring were as household words in\nthe crowded Confederate capital. But the great edict had gone forth,\nand the priest of his church came to offer the last consolations.\n\n\u201cMy own true wife,\u201d and he summoned the bowed figure, the frail           369\ngirl-woman who knelt beside him. The sweet eyes were dim with tears,\nand the voice was tremulous with passionate grief. His left arm drew\nher to him, for the right was crushed and powerless. \u201cI am about to\nask a brave act from you, my darling; do you think that you can please\nme?\u201d\n\n\u201cAsk me anything, Kenneth, only stay with me. Oh! do not leave me\nyet,\u201d and burning tears blinded her.\n\n\u201c\u2018My ways are not thy ways, nor my thoughts thy thoughts\u2019: do you\nremember these words, my own wife? And then--only a little while, when\nwe shall meet where the for evermore will indeed be eternal! But not\nof this did I wish to speak, Elaine, but\u201d--and he hesitated--\u201cif my\nfaith could be taught to my little ones?\u201d\n\nShe did not reply at first, but, with one gaze of devoted, earnest\nlove, she turned, and kneeling by his side, with the weak precious\nhand clasped within her own, she repeated: \u201cAnd receive, O Lord, thy\nservant into thy holy church, for which her heart hungers.\u201d And he\nanswered, \u201cAmen!\u201d\n\nBut this was no sudden desire influenced by her devotion to her\nhusband; for, six years before, when she had listened to the sweet\nvesper service, the latent life had wakened, and the slumber had seen\nsleep no more, but the message, \u201cWake to thy salvation!\u201d electrified\nher soul, and her whole nature thrilled its amen there; since then she\nhad been peculiarly situated, and shrank from provoking anger in her\nfather, as she realized how very stern he could be when he felt\nhimself aggrieved. But now her heart told her she must no longer\nhesitate, the great crisis asked for action, and she felt that all\nworldly considerations must be forgotten when her husband, and her own\nheart also, called for a decision which shaped her life. So she was\nbaptized by the holy father beside the bed where her husband lay\ndying; and the priest\u2019s voice was very tender as he welcomed this\nstricken daughter Christ had given to his fold.\n\nOnly a few days after, she laid her husband to rest beneath the\npoplars at \u201cHolleywood,\u201d where many of his comrades were lying; and\nthen came the gloomy, stormy March, and the sad April when the snowy\nflag was folded, and it was during this season that the widowed mother\nwas received into her husband\u2019s church.\n\nThe war had closed, and we all remember the fearful wreck that\nfollowed when Madelaine Arnaud found herself battling with the grim\nwolf whose shadow darkened her door. Her husband\u2019s fortune was all\ngone, and the delicate, dependent woman felt that she had but little\nto hope for from her father; still she would not believe that he could\nentirely forsake her, even though she had become a member of the\nchurch his soul abhorred. So she wrote in her extremity and asked for\nadvice. Many anxious days and nights passed, and no letter came; a\nfortnight intervened, when, one morning, she opened the envelope\nhanded to her by the postman, and read:\n\n     \u201cYou have chosen your way in life, and, when you forsook your\n     father\u2019s faith, he also separated from one who had joined herself\n     to idols. I enclose all that you may ever claim from me.\n                                            \u201cTHOMAS STANFIELD.\u201d\n\nShe found enclosed the last note written by her mother, only a few\nhours before her death, and a silver crucifix, with the name\n\u201cMadelaine Cr\u00e9cy, La.,\u201d inscribed on the back or flat side of the\ncross.\n\nShe was very young to be left so entirely alone, for she was not yet\ntwenty-five, and two children depended on her for support. What could     370\nshe do, and how must she act? In her agony, she cried, \u201cSave me, O\nFather, for without thine aid I am lost!\u201d Then the crucifix fell from\nher letter, and, clasping it, she drew her boy to her, and, kneeling,\nprayed: \u201cLord, thy enemies and mine have risen up against me: I\ntherefore cast myself at thy feet to implore thy succor.\u201d\n\nThe soft eyes of the little one gazed into her own, and, nestling\ncloser, he asked:\n\n\u201cWhat makes mamma so sad?\u201d\n\nThere are seasons in life when suffering is too great for expression,\nwhen tears refuse relief, and the overcharged heart, paralyzed by\npain, seems incapable of pulsation. Then even speech fails; and the\npoor, desolate woman only pressed her child closer, and appealed to\nher God for protection.\n\nThus days passed, and she seemed unable to act, for at the South all\nwas poverty and desolation, while she dared not anticipate what\nawaited her in New York. But the few dollars were growing less, and\nher children required food, so she decided to try the great city, and\nthither with her faithful nurse she journeyed. Her mother\u2019s note gave\nher strength, and she often re-read the faint tracery on the faded\npaper.\n\n     \u201cFor, my darling child\u201d (the note read), \u201cshould you ever wander\n     into the dear fold of your mother\u2019s church, feel always that my\n     blessing will rest upon you, and though I may not live to guard\n     you, yet my prayer will be then as it is now for God to be with\n     you.\n                    \u201cMADELAINE CRECY STANFIELD.\u201d\n\nAnd though she did feel crushed and desolate on that stormy September\nevening which found her in the great city, still a strength came to\nher which she had never known, and she felt that God would protect\nher. Through the crowd at the depot she wended her way, and thence in\nthe midst of a pouring rain to a cheap boarding-house, where she\npassed the night. The next morning she met an old servant who had\nknown her as a child, and, with tears streaming from the old eyes, she\ntook her to a small but respectable house in the town-part of the\ncity, where she rented two rooms, and commenced her new life. A\ntouching sight it was to see her in her sad mourning dress, she so\nfair and fragile, yet feeling that three depended upon her exertions,\nshe rose to the emergency, and determined to succeed, or die in the\nservice. She had brought a letter to a priest of her church, and to\nhim she applied. He was very kind, and promised to do all that he\ncould, but at the same time told her that pupils were not easily\nobtained, and recommended her to watch the newspapers. And she did\nsearch the journals, devoting herself to answering advertisements,\nbut, save a few questionable replies, nothing came of this attempt.\nMeantime she began to feel the pinchings of want, and ventured to try\nsewing, but how was she to obtain work? \u201cGo yourself, my dear young\nmistress,\u201d said the good old negress--\u201cgo yourself; and may de kind\nLord bless you!\u201d And, shrinking and nervous, she applied to a merchant\ndown-town. She could scarcely find words for her request, but her pale\nface appealed, and she bore away her parcel. Tireless were her\ncontinued efforts, and all through snow and ice she persevered in her\nwork. \u201cGod will help her!\u201d the dying mother had said, and through the\ndarkness of her life\u2019s storm she tried to comfort herself with this\nassurance.\n\nIt was very hard to realize that her father accumulated useless           371\nthousands and lived in princely style at the other end of the city,\nwhile, only because she believed in her mother\u2019s faith, she must\nsuffer and toil with her little ones, needing comfort, and often even\nbread. Then the old man died, and, ere he died, the scene with which\nthis story opens shamed his last hours.\n\nBut the exposure of three winters told on this delicate woman, and,\nwhen she felt her strength waning, all the horrors of starvation\nfrightened her; for she knew that there were none to help her. She had\nmoved still lower down-town, and into a smaller room, and there, with\nher faithful nurse, she endured life. But then there came a time when,\nthough the will is strong to do, the physique fails to support, and\nthe brave heart, struggling to conquer, feels despair steeling its\nvitals, and thus it was with Madelaine. The autumn of 1867 set in\nearly, and November was cold and cruel to the poor. She, weaker than\nshe had been, felt her slight unheeded cough increase, and, when\nDecember came, was too ill for any exertion. Bitterly the winter\nopened, snow covered the city, the wind keen and merciless swept the\nisland, and thus the Christmas week found her with the little ones\ndependent, and she utterly helpless. The last penny had been expended,\nand the children were wailing with hunger.\n\nKenneth had looked into her own tearful eyes, and whispered, \u201cDarling\nmamma, I will pray to Our Lady, and she will ask God to help you.\u201d She\nonly kissed her brave, trustful child, but had no strength for\nutterance. So, when the chill night wrapped the city and darkened the\ngloomy chamber, the child picked up his mother\u2019s rosary, and, throwing\nit around his throat, held the crucifix in his infant hands, and,\nkneeling beside his mother\u2019s low, poor bed, pleaded that the blessed\nVirgin would be kind to his dear mamma; and then the sweet child went\nto sleep murmuring Our Lady\u2019s name.\n\nThe dawn was fast breaking over the city when the child kissed her,\nand said, \u201cShe has heard my prayer, mamma, for I dreamed that a\nbeautiful angel like the picture in your prayer-book came to me, and\nsaid, \u2018God will help her!\u2019--and does not that mean you, mamma?\u201d\n\n\u201cI hope that our kind Father will help us, my darling; therefore we\nmust try to deserve his help.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! he will help you, mamma, and I will help you, too.\u201d\n\nThe day wore away, the last slice had been divided, and there was\nliterally nothing else in the house. Hunger, starvation, was before\nthem, and God, only God, could help them.\n\nThe snow fell heavily, the wind blew, and even the elements seemed\nwarring against her, for she had not even fuel to keep off the cold.\n\nTwo o\u2019clock chimed from Trinity, and, turning, she missed Kenneth. He\nwas now eight years old, and often went out alone, but, with an\ninstinct plainer than words, her heart rose to warn her of danger.\n\nThree, four, five o\u2019clock came, but still the child did not return.\nThe lamps glared in the dark streets, and the night seemed too cold\nfor human life--when--crash! a shriek, and a pair of horses dashed\nmadly down the streets, throwing the occupants of the coach senseless\nupon the sidewalk. A crowd soon gathered, and bore the crushed and\nsuffering man into the gloomy room where the sick woman lay. Her room\nopened on the street, and so they laid him on the small bed where the\nnurse slept.\n\n\u201cBring a light,\u201d sounded a gruff voice.                                   372\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t you see dat de poor chile has no light for herself? Stonishing\nde fools dat libs in dese parts!\u201d\n\nA kind voice asked, \u201cIs there no money? Take this and buy a candle.\u201d\nThe speaker was a shabbily-dressed man, but the whole aspect showed\nthat he had known better days. He remained with the injured man, and\nwhile they go to find a light I leave them...\n\nThe snow was falling in great white feathery flakes, covering the dark\nalleys and darker tenements with its soft downy covering, and the\nlittle ragged, barefooted gamins of the great city were shrieking and\nscreaming with delight; but not to build mimic forts or to join the\narmy of snow-ballers did our little wanderer pause. \u201cMamma shall have\nsome money,\u201d he said, \u201cand I will begin to work for it, so I will go\nto the streets where the fine houses are, and there the men will give\nme work.\u201d Only eight years old was this little soldier in the grand\narmy, but his noble face was radiant with the workings of his soul,\nwhich no poverty could injure. His little clothes were patched and\nscanty, and his poor little frozen toes came through the holes in his\nworn shoes; but the eyes shone with a light that could not be dimmed,\nand the firmly-set lips told that he was quite determined to do his\nbest on that afternoon. At first he shrank from the cutting wind that\nswept from the East River, but, with hands in his pockets and cap\npulled down, he ran on till he came to Broadway. Crowded with the\nhappy crowd of the vast metropolis, the great highway was gay with\nbright faces on this eve of the feast of joy. Windows bright with\npresents for the favored children of fortune, shops thronged by\nsmiling mothers eager to gratify their pampered darlings, and\nchild-infant as he was, the little one paused to look at the pretty\ntoys; but tears filled the large blue eyes, and he said, \u201cOh! I can\u2019t\nlook at these things, for poor mamma is sick and wants food.\u201d At that\nmoment, a gentleman passed, and the child went up and pulled his warm\novercoat, \u201cWill you give me some work, sir?\u201d But the creature, a\nfashionable young fop in tights, shook him off, and passed on. Then\ncame another, this time a respectable gray-haired worthy, and, running\nin front, the same appealing voice asked the same question. But the\nsuccessful merchant, hurrying home, was intent upon some new\nspeculation, and, suddenly disturbed, was not very amiable, as he\nreplied, \u201cBe off, you little vagabond!\u201d\n\nThis time the policeman came up, and taking him by the arm gruffly\nordered him to move on. And thus, on the eve of this blessed festival,\nwhen the great city joyed in each household, there was no grain for\nthis wee waif, no crumb for the little estray, who was struggling\nagainst the power of the ebb which fate had sent to test his strength\nfor the hereafter. On, on past the Fifth Avenue Hotel, through Madison\nSquare, glancing at the glittering icicles or gleaming snow-drifts,\nshivering over the frozen pavements, on he travelled, faintly trying\nfor that which seemed for ever denied to him.\n\n\u201c_I will_ find it for her,\u201d he said, \u201cfor the beautiful angel, our\nHoly Mother, told me that she should be taken care of. I see her now\nfar up in the clouds.\u201d And up in the leaden sky, far beyond the pure,\nbeautiful flakes, he gazed, half-hoping that the Mother of Christ\nwould smile on him again. And did she not even then hover over the\nyoung boy-warrior? Did she not pray that he, too, might be strengthened   373\nin this hard fight which his infant powers essayed? _Adjuvabit eam\nDeus_![83] the dying mother had prayed, and his promises would not\nfail. At last, far up the avenue, when the cold, shadowy twilight\nstole on the great city, he paused before a stately mansion. Curtains\nof silk and costly lace draped the windows, and liveried servants were\nsitting on the box of the handsome coach awaiting the master\u2019s coming.\nThen the heavy door of massive bronze opened, and the master slowly\ndescended the broad steps.\n\n\u201cOh! you will help me, won\u2019t you? Please give me some work, for I want\nto earn money for my mother!\u201d\n\n\u201cSend that little beggar away,\u201d was the irritable rebuff, and the\nfootman flung him aside, not heeding where he fell. The carriage\nrolled away, and no thought was given to the small human bundle,\nroughly hurled from the rich man\u2019s path. Then night darkened over the\ncity, and the stars, God\u2019s eternal sentinels, guarded earth as they\nhad done eighteen centuries before when they watched the birth of the\nincarnate God. And beneath the same shimmering light the boy-warrior\nlay, all worsted in the strife, as thousands had sunk before, and all\nunconscious of the cruel hearts that still pulsed on. The torn little\ncap had fallen off, and the fair golden curls shaded the pale,\nchildish face, turned upward as if in appeal to the Blessed Mother he\nhad seen in his dreams. Was she watching still, and did her kind eyes\nsee the crucifix clutched in the poor cold hands--the crucifix with\nthe dead Christ, whose birth the morrow would celebrate? But the soft\nfeathery flakes fell steadily on, covering the sweet face of the\nlittle one. Ah! God of infinite love and goodness, will the great army\nwith the ranks of sin, and greed, and lust, prosper and thrive and\nlive, while this young soldier, this infant of purest soul and lion\nheart, lies all unheeded, dying, the victim of cruelty and selfish\nforgetfulness?\n\nBut see--a policeman tramps near, and he comes with stalwart tread,\nswinging his burly arms, and clapping his gigantic hands to keep the\nfingers from freezing, for verily death seems to breathe out in the\nstealthy, deadening cold. Bravely he glances with searching look up\nand down the broad avenue, then pauses suddenly by the side of the\nobstruction just without the pavement.\n\n\u201cGod and his holy saints forsake me, if this same bundle ain\u2019t a\nchild! Ugh! but it\u2019s an ugly night for this small specimen to be left\nhere! But come, let\u2019s see, my little man,\u201d and he tried to move him.\n\u201cSt. Patrick save me! if I ain\u2019t afraid that he\u2019ll never feel again!\u201d\nAnd he dropped the little arm he held, and the crucifix, falling, lay\ndark against the glittering snow. The sight of the cross at once\ntouched the stout Irishman, and this sturdy six-footed son of the\nGreen Isle, this huge guardian of the great city, gathered the stray\nlamb to his bosom tenderly, pityingly, as its own mother, and bore it\nto the station-house. And, full of the warm impulse of his race, he\nchafed the poor little hands, and lingered by the pallet on which he\nlay, till great tears fell from eyes that had not seldom looked\nunmoved on the misery of the metropolis. He raised the child\u2019s\ncrucifix to his lips, and though he hurriedly summoned a physician, he\nmuttered, \u201cPoor little lamb, if he does come back to life, it will\nonly keep an angel longer from Our Lady\u2019s home!\u201d\n\nThe man returned to his duty, and hours passed before he was relieved,\nbut ere he returned to his own home, and the young wife waiting him,      374\nhe went back to the station-house to look after \u201cthe pretty young one\u201d\nwho had died with the cross in his hand; for he fully expected to find\nhim dead on his return.\n\n\u201cWe have had hard work to bring him back, Murphy,\u201d said the doctor, as\nthe man walked up to the child. \u201cOnly five minutes more, and the cold\nwould have reached the little heart, which was losing all sensation.\nWe have had a time of it, and he has just fallen asleep. These are\nwhat we found on him. The card was fastened to his worn jacket, and\nthe crucifix has also a name engraved.\u201d And picking up the card from\nthe table the policeman read, \u201cKenneth Arnaud, 312 East ---- Street.\u201d\nOn the back of the silver cross was the name, \u201cMadelaine Cr\u00e9cy, August\n15, 18--.\u201d\n\n\u201cPoor little child! said the policeman. \u201cI\u2019ll take him home, for his\nhouse is near my own.\u201d\n\nSo he wrapped the sleeping child in an old blanket, and carried him\nthrough the storm. A light glimmered on the first-floor front room as\nhe approached the house, and the man stepped in to inquire about his\nyoung charge. As he opened the rickety door, the wailing voice of a\nwoman smote him with the agonizing pain it expressed. \u201cThe gentleman\nmay remain,\u201d she said, \u201cbut for God\u2019s sake find my child. O sir! bring\nme back my child!\u201d and her sobs and moans were heart-rending. The\nnegress rocked to and fro with the little girl, trying to keep her\nwarm and still her feeble cries for bread, chanting the while in dull\nmonotone, a habit peculiar to her race, and which at this time\nincreased the oppressive gloom of the place, not at all relieved by\nthe flickering tallow-candle, nearly burned out--on the small bed in\nthe corner the wounded gentleman lay groaning in agony, and\nimpatiently awaiting a messenger he had summoned--a sad eve truly that\nannounced the blessed festival!\n\nAt this time the policeman tapped with his club, but receiving no\nanswer, and not caring to wait in the cold, he once more opened the\ndoor. Standing mute on the threshold, for the scene at first deprived\nhim of speech, then walking to the centre of the room, he asked, \u201cIs\nthe mother of Kenneth Arnaud here? For I have found a child of that\nname, who wore a crucifix on which was engraved \u2018Madelaine Cr\u00e9cy.\u2019\u201d\n\nWith one wild scream the mother answered, \u201cHe is mine!\u201d and, as she\nclasped him to her heart, the soft eyes unclosed, and the feeble\nlittle voice whispered, \u201cDarling mamma, I asked them all for work that\nI might buy you bread, but--oh! my head hurts, for a wicked man flung\nme away from a gentleman who rode in his carriage. But, mamma, don\u2019t\ncry, for she--the one with the angels--will care for us. Oh! I have\njust seen her, and I waked to find your own eyes where hers had been.\nDear mamma, keep me with you, away from the cruel man, and the ice,\noh! the cold snow!\u201d And his little frame shivered with the\nrecollection.\n\n\u201cMadelaine Cr\u00e9cy!\u201d the sick man muttered on his couch in the corner.\nAnd the policeman approached. \u201cYes, sir, that was the name on the\ncrucifix, and I thought the little fellow was dead when I picked him\nup in front of the millionaire\u2019s house on Fifth Avenue.\u201d\n\n\u201cMy God! and it was my servant who cast him from me! Will you take a\nmessage to that house, my good man? Do not refuse me, for gold shall\npay you well. I--I am that millionaire, and an avenging God has\ncrushed me.\u201d With his uninjured arm, he drew out a card from his          375\npocket, and said, \u201cTake this to my residence, and tell my housekeeper\nto come to me at once.\u201d Then, placing an eagle, his own valued\npocket-piece, in the policeman\u2019s hands, he prayed him to hasten his\nerrand.\n\nBut the mother\u2019s weak voice also called the kind Irishman. She had\nheard nothing of the conversation, for she was absorbed with her\ndarling, who in broken words had told his little story.\n\n\u201cI have nothing to give you, sir,\u201d she said with tears streaming down\nher pale cheeks. \u201cThe rosary was my mother\u2019s, and besides this I have\nnot even food for my children. But I will pray for you, and God will\nbless and reward you, sir; he will grant what I cannot give.\u201d\n\nShe clasped his rough hand, which her tears fell upon, and he\nhurriedly left the room, for his own eyes were very dim.\n\nMany and varied are the phases which the great city presents to these\nher guardians, but in his fifteen years\u2019 experience none had touched\nhim more than this.\n\nHe closed the door after him, and the solitary candle burned to its\nsocket. It was now past midnight, and a long silence ensued, broken\nonly by the snores of the negress, for the starved infant had cried\nitself to sleep. The bruised stranger forgot his own suffering as he\ncontemplated the surrounding misery, and for some time the stillness\nwas profound. At last he muttered, \u201cMadelaine Cr\u00e9cy! Madelaine Cr\u00e9cy!\ncan it be the same! Then God have mercy on my soul!\u201d\n\n\u201cWho calls my mother\u2019s name?\u201d asked the sick woman.\n\n\u201cI, your father\u2019s son, Madelaine Arnaud. I, your brother, who\ndespoiled you, and sold his life for gold, but,\u201d and his voice\ntrembled with emotion--\u201cbut who will devote that life to you now, if\nyou will allow it, to atone for the cold selfishness of the past.\u201d\n\n\u201cI should be no daughter of the church which you despise, William\nStanfield, if I bore anger to my father\u2019s son. I teach my little\nchildren to pray, \u2018Forgive us, as we forgive those who sin against\nus,\u2019 therefore must my heart refuse all malice against God\u2019s\ncreatures, else would my own prayers avail not.\u201d\n\nHe could not answer then, for he, the bigot, the scorner of that\nchurch which he had ridiculed, felt now the beauty of her teaching\nwhen, even in the midst of her sufferings, this desolate woman could\nforgive one who knew that he was responsible for so much that might\nhave been alleviated.\n\n\u201cElaine!\u201d--ay, it was the first time that she had listened to her old\nname since the night when her brave husband had spoken his farewell,\nand the sound thrilled her with strange memories--\u201cElaine, your roof\nhas sheltered me to-night, and saved from destruction one who claims\nas a proof of your forgiveness acceptance of the home which he will\nshare with yourself and little ones.\u201d\n\nAnd, ere she answered, the chimes of Trinity heralded the dawn of that\nthrice-blessed morning when the angels sang, \u201cGlory to God in the\nhighest, and on earth peace to men of good-will.\u201d And that message of\nthe Incarnation brooded with its holy evangel on the troubled hearts\nwithin, as, when the Christmas sun shone over the snow-covered city,\nthe carriage of the rich merchant bore its precious freight to his\nhome, and light, and life, and joy succeeded the gloomy night. And\nshe, when her prayer ascended on that night of shelter and rest,\nrealized the fulfilment of her mother\u2019s benediction: \u201cAdjuvabit eam\nDeus!\u201d\n\n\n     [82] \u201cFor all the gods of the Gentiles are devils.\u201d\n\n     [83] \u201cGod shall help her.\u201d\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n                     CATHOLICITY AND PANTHEISM.                          376\n\n                              NO. XII.\n\n                   THE COSMOS IN TIME AND SPACE.\n\n\nThe supernatural moment unites created personalities to the infinite.\nBy the moment of substantial creation the first duality is established\nbetween the infinite and the finite. This duality is brought into\nharmony and unity in the Theanthropos, who knits together the finite\nand the infinite in the oneness of his single personality. But as the\nhypostatic moment united only created natures to the infinite, another\nmoment was necessary, namely, a medium between the Theanthropos and\nsubstantial creation. This is the _supernatural_, which, by raising\ncreated persons above their natural sphere, enables them to arise, as\nit were, to the level of the infinite, and establishes a communication\nand intercourse between them. This we have shown in the preceding\narticle. The question which now remains to be treated of at present is\nthe following: _Who or what is to be the medium of communicating the\nterm of the supernatural moment to created personality?_\n\nAlthough God, in acting outside himself, might have effected\neverything immediately by himself, without allowing any play to second\ncauses, yet, following the law of his wisdom, he exerted immediately\nby himself as much power as was required to set second causes in\naction, and then allowed them to develop themselves under his\nguidance. The law of wisdom is the law of sufficient reason, which\nimplies that no intelligent agent can, in acting, employ more power\nthan is absolutely necessary to attain its object; for acting\notherwise would be to let the amount of action not necessary to attain\nthe object go to waste, and be employed without any possible reason.\nHence the necessity on the part of the infinite to admit secondary\nagency in the effectuation of this moment, whenever that was possible,\nin order to observe the law of wisdom. Applying this theory to the\nexternal action, we see that the substantial and the hypostatic\nmoments were effected immediately by God himself, because no secondary\nagency could be employed therein; but the supernatural moment was\neffected by God through the agency of the Theanthropos, who merited it\nby his own acts of infinite value.[84] Hence, as the Theanthropos is\nthe meritorious cause of the supernatural moment, he is pre-eminently\nits mediator, and therefore the medium of communicating it to created\npersonality. This consequence of Christ being the medium of the\ncommunication of grace, in force of his being its meritorious cause,\nis so evident that we know of none who has ever disputed it. The only\nquestion which remains to be solved--a question of the greatest\nimportance--is this: When the Theanthropos was living on earth, he\nwould communicate the term of the supernatural moment in the personal\nintercourse and intimacy in which he lived with his followers; but as     377\nhe has withdrawn his visible presence and intercourse from the earth,\nhow is the term of the supernatural moment to be communicated to human\npersons in all time and space?\n\nWe answer by laying down the following principle: _This medium must\nbe such as will preserve the dignity and the prerogatives of the\nTheanthropos, as will befit the nature of human personality, as will\nfulfil the object which the supernatural term is intended to\nattain_.\n\nBecause, if the medium which is chosen does not fulfil these\nconditions; if it does not maintain the dignity and prerogatives of\nthe Theanthropos; if it does not befit the nature and constitution of\nhuman personality; if it frustrates the ends of the supernatural\nmoment instead of attaining them, it is evident that infinite wisdom\ncould never have chosen it without contradicting itself. The principle\nis, therefore, evident. Now, what can this medium be in its nature\nwhich fulfils all these conditions? It can be nothing else than _the\nsacramental extension of the Theanthropos in time and space_. In\nannouncing such a principle, the reader is at once aware that we\nrequire some kind of presence of the Theanthropos in the cosmos\nextending to all time and to all space.\n\nBut what is meant by sacramental extension, and why should it be so?\n\nTo answer this question, let us get first a true metaphysical idea of\nthe sacrament. The term sacrament in theological language is applied\nas conveying the idea of an instrument of grace. Hence, to get at the\nidea, we must inquire into the idea of instrument. Now, what is an\ninstrument? It is an organism which contains a force. And what is\nforce? It, being one of the first elements of our thoughts, can be\ndefined but imperfectly, less by its essence than by its effects. It\nmight be defined to be the energy of a being retaining its existence\nthrough the means of an effort of concentration, or diffusing it\noutwardly by a movement of expansion. Every act of force must be\nreduced to this two-fold movement: either we shut ourselves, as it\nwere, in ourselves to concentrate our life, and give ourselves the\nhighest possible sensation; or we expand ourselves to communicate our\nlife to others, and according to the degree of this double tension we\nexhibit the phenomenon of force. The hand contracted or closed is the\nsymbol of the force of concentration; the hand open to give is the\nimage of the force of expansion. The force of concentration in its\nhighest possible act is eternity--the possession of interminable life\nall at once. He alone possesses it who in an instant--one,\nindivisible, and absolute--experiences in himself and for ever the\nplenitude of his being, and says, _I am who am_; the sublimest idea\never conceived and ever uttered. The force of expansion at its highest\npossible act is the external action; and he alone possesses it who,\nabsolutely sufficient to himself in the plenitude of his being, can\ncall to life, without losing of his own, whomsoever and whatsoever he\nlists--bodies, spirits, worlds, and for ever in ages without number,\nand in space without limits.\n\nNow, God, in giving us being, has given us force, without which a\nbeing could not conceive itself, and has given us this force in its\ndouble element of concentration and expansion: the one, which enables\nus to continue its existence, and to develop ourselves; the other,\nwhich enables us to propagate ourselves: the one, by which we tend to\nthe act of eternity; the other, by which we tend to the act of            378\ncreation.\n\nBut there is this difference among others between us and the infinite,\nthat _he_ possesses in himself and by himself the force of concentration\nand expansion, whereas our force is borrowed and communicated to us by\nmeans of _instruments_, which his infinite wisdom has prepared. Life\nis kept in us by something _forcing_ to us the _instruments_ to which\nGod has communicated the power of sustaining and repairing it.\n\nWe subsist by the invisible force contained in an organism. The same\nmust be said of the force of expansion. We cannot act outside\nourselves, on any being at all capable of resistance, by the simple\ndirect act of our will, but must make use of instruments, among which\nour body is the first.\n\nNow, the reasons of this are, that, if we possessed the force of\nconcentration and expansion in ourselves and by ourselves, it would\nfollow that, as these two forces constitute the essence of life, we\nshould have life in ourselves and by ourselves, we should be to\nourselves the reason of our being and subsistence, and consequently we\nshould be infinite and not finite. Hence, pantheism, which admits the\nunity of substance independent and self-sufficient, and all else as\nphenomena of this substance, rejects all idea of instrument in\nmetaphysics, and all idea of sacrament in theology.\n\nNor would it do to say that God might communicate that double force to\nus immediately by himself without the aid of any instruments. For two\nreasons we must reject such a supposition: First, the law of secondary\nagency, which requires that created substance should act, and it would\nnot for any purpose do so were God to do everything immediately by\nhimself. Second, the law of communion, so necessary to the unity of\nthe cosmos, which is founded exclusively upon the action of one\nelement upon the other, else the communion would be merely imaginary\nand fictitious.\n\nWe conclude: An instrument in its metaphysical idea is an organism\ncontaining a force of concentration and expansion. A sacrament, being\nan instrument, must therefore be an organism containing a force of\nconcentration and expansion; and, as an organism is something outward\nand sensible, it follows that a sacrament must be also outward and\nsensible. And as the force which the sacrament is designed to convey\nis altogether supernatural, it follows that a sacrament must be an\ninstrument of conveying supernatural force. We may, therefore, define\na sacrament to be a sensible instrument or organism containing a\nsupernatural force of concentration and of expansion.\n\nBut it is evident that no instrument, no organism in nature, is\ncapable of conveying a supernatural force of concentration and of\nexpansion; for that would imply an act superior to its nature, which\nis a contradiction. It follows, therefore, that this supernatural\nforce must be communicated to the organism by the Theanthropos,\notherwise it could never fulfil its destination and office. The\nTheanthropos, in order to be the means of communicating to all human\npersons in time and space the supernatural term, which is nothing else\nbut a supernatural force of concentration and expansion, must\ncommunicate and unite his infinite energy and action to an external\norganism, and thus himself convey through that organism the\nsupernatural life. And this union of the infinite energy of the\nTheanthropos with an outward organism must not be successive or\ntemporary, but permanent and stable; since the object is to convey        379\nthe supernatural force to all human persons in _all time_ and in _all\nspace_.\n\nThis is the sacramental extension of the Theanthropos in time and\nspace, the continuation upon earth of the hypostatic union, the\nfilling up, as it were, of his incarnation, a second incarnation; not\nof the Word with human nature in the unity of his personality, but an\nincarnation of the Theanthropos, the Word made man, with visible,\noutward, external instruments, in the unity of one sacramental being,\nto convey to men in all times and spaces the supernatural life of\ngrace.\n\nThis sacramental extension of the Theanthropos must be divided into\nvarious moments, owing to the requirements of the object for which it\nis intended. The object of the supernatural moment is to reproduce the\nTheanthropos in all human persons by a similitude of his nature,\nperfections, and attributes, and by a real union with and\ntransformation into his life.\n\nThe infinite, from all eternity, under the subsistence of primary,\nunbegotten activity and principle, begets and conceives intellectually\na similitude of himself absolutely perfect under the subsistence of\nintellectual expression, _Logos_ or Word. This action of the\n_Principle_ begetting the Word, exhibiting all the essential\nrequisites of generation, constitutes the Principle--_Father_; and the\nbegotten--_Son_. In his works _ad extra_, the infinite, in effecting\nthe mystery of the hypostatic moment, does nothing less than exalt the\ncosmos, as recapitulated in the human nature of the Word, to the very\nsame dignity which arises in his bosom when in the day of his eternity\nhe begets his eternal Son. For the Theanthropos, or the Word made man,\nis not the Son of God figuratively, or by adoption, or by any other\naction than that which begets him from eternity. He as man-God is the\nSon of God really, naturally, and by the same identical action which\neternally engenders him. Hence, the cosmos, as abridged in the human\nnature of Christ, in force of the hypostatic moment, is really,\nnaturally, and by the same eternal action of the Father, the Son of\nGod Almighty.\n\nThe infinite wishes to extend this divine _Sonship_ of the\ncosmos, as recapitulated in the human nature of Christ, to human\npersons also. This of course cannot be effected except by an adoption\nfounded upon the following elements:\n\n1. A perfect similitude of the nature, properties, attributes, and\nvirtues of the Theanthropos.\n\n2. A real union with him.\n\n3. A communication of his life.\n\n4. A communication of his beatitude.\n\nIn other words, a reproduction of Christ and his nature, his\nattributes, his life, and his bliss.\n\nTo effect this reproduction are required: First, a similitude of the\nnature of Christ; a similitude of his intellect; a similitude of his\nwill; a sharing in his feelings. Second, a real and substantial\nparticipation of his life, in order that this similitude may be\nsustained, and that, initial and germinal as it is in this world, it\nmay grow and develop itself by communing with its proper object, and\nthus become perfect and able to attain a participation of his bliss in\npalingenesia.\n\nThus the eternal Father, seeing all human persons bearing the image of\nhis Son, having his mind, his will, his feelings, communicating with\nhis life, extends to them the feeling of a father and the inheritance\nof children.[85]\n\nHence, the different moments of the sacramental extension of the          380\nTheanthropos:\n\n1. A moment of supernatural generation by which the Theanthropos\nattaches his infinite energy to a visible instrument, permanent in\ntime and space, and through which he confers a similitude of himself\nand the other divine persons; a similitude in essence, in intellect,\nin will, in feeling, in aspirations, in an initial and germinal state,\nand which establishes the incipient and germinal union of human\npersons with the Trinity.\n\n2. A moment by which the Theanthropos attaches his infinite energy to\na visible instrument, and through which he carries that initial and\ninchoative similitude and union to a definite and determinate growth.\n\n3. A moment by which the Theanthropos attaches his infinite energy to\na sensible instrument, in order to communicate to human persons the\npower to perpetuate his sacramental extension in time and space.\n\n4. A moment by which the Theanthropos communicates his infinite energy\nto human persons, to exalt their natural force of expansion, and\nenable them to propagate the human and supernatural species.\n\n5. A moment by which the Theanthropos attaches and unites the _real\nsubstantial presence of his person_, that is, of humanity and\ndivinity, both subsisting in his single divine person, to a sensible\ninstrument, in order to communicate to human persons his real,\nsubstantial, theanthropic life, in order to put all human persons of\nall time and space in real living communion with each other, by\nmeeting in him and through him as a common centre, and in order to\nreside continually in the visible cosmos.\n\nThe third and fourth moments follow necessarily from the others, both\nhaving the like office.\n\nThe first of them is intended to perpetuate the sacramental extension\nof Christ. An organism to be set in motion requires the agency of\nhuman persons; consequently, the supernatural organism or the\nsacramental extension of Christ, in order to be applied to human\npersons, requires the agency of human persons, appointed and fitted\nfor such office by another visible instrument to which a particular\ntheanthropic energy is attached.\n\nThis third moment is demanded also for another object, that is, the\ntransmitting whole and entire, and without any error, by a personal\nintercourse, of the whole body of doctrines which are the object of\nthe supernatural intelligence bestowed by the first moment. No other\npossible way can be thought of transmitting whole and entire the whole\nbody of doctrines, the object of the supernatural intelligence, than a\npersonal intercourse, the only safe, natural, philosophical manner of\ntransmitting doctrine. Hence, for this object, also, a moment was\nrequired by which the Theanthropos, attaching his infinite energy to a\nparticular instrument, would fit human persons to teach infallibly the\nwhole body of doctrines he came to reveal, and to put in act his\nsacramental extension.\n\nThe fourth moment relates to the natural union of sexes in reference\nto generation.\n\nHuman persons being exalted by the first moment to the supernatural\norder, their personal acts must necessarily become supernatural; much\nmore the highest possible personal act of expansion, which is the\ntransfusion of their united life into a third. Consequently, it was\nbefitting that the Theanthropos should attach a particular\nsupernatural energy to the union of the sexes with a view to the act\nof generation, in order to exalt and sanctify it, and thus enable         381\nthem not only to generate as persons exalted to a supernatural state,\nbut to bring up the offspring in the same supernatural order.[86]\n\nAll the moments of the sacramental extension of Christ but the fifth\nimply a personal action of the Theanthropos, attached to each\nparticular instrument constituting the moment.\n\nThe fifth moment alone implies a real substantial presence of the\nwhole person of the Theanthropos under the visible instrument. This\nrequires explanation and proof, since it has been denied with the\nfierceness and rage of an opposition which did not and could not\ncomprehend the grandeur, the sublimity, the magnificence of the\nelevation of the cosmos, by the fact of the hypostatic moment.\nCatholicity holds: 1. That, though the Theanthropos has withdrawn his\n_visible_ presence from the cosmos, he remains in it still, not by a\nspiritual, figurative, phenomenal presence, but by a real, substantial\npresence of his _whole person_, that is, of his body, blood, soul, and\ndivinity--a presence hidden under the modifications of bread and wine.\n\n2. That the manner according to which this real, substantial presence\nof the Theanthropos is obtained, is by a change of the substances of\nbread and wine into the substance of the body and blood of the\nTheanthropos, not still and dead, but as vivified by his soul and\ndivinity; a change effected by the sacramental words impregnated with\nthe infinite power of the Theanthropos, and uttered by the minister\nover the elements to be changed.\n\nNow the question arises: Is this substantial presence of the\nTheanthropos necessary? Is it metaphysically possible in the manner\nthat the Catholic Church admits it?\n\nAs to the first question, we observe that such a presence is not\nabsolutely necessary when considered of itself, independent of, and\nprevious to, the adoption of the present plan of the cosmos by the\ninfinite intelligence of God. But considered in relation to the\npresent plan of the cosmos and as a complement of it, it _is_\nnecessary. Infinite intelligence might have selected another plan, but,\nhaving once chosen the present plan of the cosmos, the real presence\nbecomes absolutely necessary as a complement bringing it to perfection.\nThis we shall endeavor to prove by the following arguments:\n\nFirst, the end of the action of the infinite outside himself is the highest\npossible manifestation of his infinite excellence. To attain this end, an\ninfinite effect would have been necessary. But as an infinite effect was a\ncontradiction in terms, infinite wisdom was to find means whereby to effect\nthe highest possible manifestation of himself, in spite of the ontological\nfiniteness of the cosmos to be effected. This means was to produce a\nvariety of moments; to bring the whole variety of moments to the highest\npossible unity in the person of the Theanthropos.\n\n1. To produce a variety of moments, in order that the _infinity_ of\nthe perfections of God, which could not be expressed by the terms\neffected in _intensity_ of being, might be expressed in _extension_\nand _number_.\n\n2. The highest possible unity, in order that the infinity, simplicity,\nand oneness of God might be portrayed.\n\n3. In the person of the Theanthropos, in order that, if this variety\nbrought into unity could not be ontologically infinite, it might be\ninfinite by a union and communication the highest possible.\n\nThese are the three leading principles, according to which infinite       382\nwisdom resolved the problem of the end of the external action: highest\npossible variety, highest possible unity, highest possible\ncommunication.\n\nNow, let us see if and how the effectuation of real cosmos was\ngoverned by these principles.\n\nIn view of these principles, God effected substantial creation and the\nhypostatic moment, by which the whole substantial moment was united to\nthe person of the Word in the bond of his divine personality.\n\nWas the problem of the highest possible variety and the highest\npossible unity and communication in the person of the Theanthropos\nresolved? It was, so far only as nature and substance were concerned;\nbecause the hypostatic union only wedded _human nature_, and through\nit all inferior natures, to the person of the Word. But this unity and\ncommunication excluded, and had to exclude, all human personalities.\nIt excluded them in the fact; it had to exclude them, otherwise human\npersonality would have ceased to exist. Here the problem must be\nresolved anew--how to raise human personality to the highest possible\nunion and communication with the Theanthropos. Another moment was\neffected to initiate the solution of the problem; and this was the\nsupernatural moment. By it human personality, by being endowed with a\nhigher similitude of the Trinity and the Theanthropos, and by\nreceiving higher faculties, is brought into a real and particular\nunion with the Word, and through him the other persons of the Trinity.\nBut the supernatural moment does not resolve the problem yet; because\nthe union which results thereby is union between human persons and the\nWord as God, not a union between human persons and the _Theanthropos_,\nthe Word made man.\n\nA real and efficient union between two terms requires a real relation\nbetween them. Now, the supernatural term establishes a relation\nbetween human persons and the Word, but not a relation between them\nand the Theanthropos, because it is wholly spiritual and incorporeal.\nA true relation between persons composed of body and soul must be a\ncontact, not spiritual only, but also corporeal.\n\nHence, if we exclude the real substantial presence of the Theanthropos\nas such, we have a union of human persons united to the Word, but not\na real efficacious union of human persons united to the\n_Theanthropos_. On this supposition, the cosmos would lack the highest\npossible unity and communication, and would fail to realize the end of\nthat external action. But, admit the corporal presence of the\nTheanthropos in time and space, admit that presence incorporating and\nindividualizing itself in human persons, and the whole wisdom and\nbeauty of the design flashes at once upon your mind--the whole cosmos,\nas abridged in the human nature of Christ, made infinite by the\nhypostatic union with the Word; all human persons incorporated body\nand soul into the body and soul of the Theanthropos, built up into his\nbody and soul, transformed, as it were, in them and through them, and\nin them coming in the closest possible communication with the divinity\nwhich a _person_ can attain. In this plan only everything holds\ntogether and presents order, harmony, and beauty.\n\nBut, if the real substantial presence of the _Theanthropos_ was\nnecessary in order to bring human personality to the highest possible\nunion and communication with the infinite, and thus realize the end of\nthe external action, it was also required that the being and actions      383\nof human personality might be elevated to the dignity, excellence, and\nvalue of _theanthropic being and acts_. In the hypostatic union, human\nnature and all the inferior natures which it eminently contains, as\nconnected in the person of the Word, are deified, and their acts have\nthe value and dignity of divine acts.\n\nHence, so far, the end of the external action which is to raise the\ncosmos in its nature and acts to an infinite dignity by union and\ncommunication, is attained. But human personality, not being an\nelement of the hypostatic union, could not acquire in its being and in\nits acts the dignity and excellence of divine being and acts, and\nconsequently the end of the external action could not by the\nhypostatic moment be realized as regards the same personality. Here\nanother problem arose in the divine mind--how to raise human\npersonality to such a union with the Theanthropos as, without\ninfringing upon its nature, to raise its being and its acts to the\nvalue, excellence, and dignity of theanthropic being and acts, and\nthus to exhibit in it the most perfect image of the infinite. This\nproblem was resolved by the incorporation of the Theanthropos, under\nthe modifications of bread and wine, in human persons. This plan does\nnot imply an hypostatic union, which would do away with human\npersonality, but a union so strict, so close, and so intimate, as\nmerely to fall short of the hypostatic. For, in it and by it, the\nTheanthropos, the God made man, in his whole person, composed of body,\nsoul, and divinity, is incorporated in human personalities by the act\nof eating, and his body pervades their bodies, his blood circulates in\ntheir blood, his soul inheres upon and clings to their soul, his\ndivinity purifies, sanctifies, ennobles, exalts their whole being,\nand, like food, results in a transformation--a transformation not\nindeed of the Theanthropos into the flesh and blood of the human\nperson, as it happens with ordinary food, but a transformation of the\nhuman person into the body, blood, soul, and almost divinity of the\nTheanthropos. \u201cCresce et manducabis me, nec tu me mutabis in te sed tu\nmutaberis in me.\u201d[87] The fathers have endeavored to express the\nintimacy of the union by adopting various similitudes. Some have\nlikened it to a piece of glass when impregnated by the rays of the\nsun, and appearing like a smaller sun. Others have compared it to the\naction of fire upon iron, which, when heated and become red hot, looks\nexactly like fire, and could fulfil the functions of fire. St. Cyril\nof Alexandria has chosen the similitude of two distinct pieces of wax,\nwhich when melted and mingled together are so intimately united as to\nform one single piece, defying every possible recognition of their\nformer separation. But all these similitudes, possible as they may be,\ncan never express the mysterious intimacy and closeness between human\npersonalities and the Theanthropos in the eucharistic banquet.\n\nNow, how does this resolve the problem? Most perfectly. The infinite\nintends to exhibit in human personalities an image, an expression of\nhimself as pure and as perfect as possible--an image of his being and\nof his life or action in obedience to the end of the external action,\nalways preserving the conditions of human personalities. Now, what\ndoes the cosmos of personalities when united to the Theanthropos in\nthe mystery of the Eucharist, when pervaded by him, when so closely       384\nand so intimately united to him as to feel his flesh come in contact\nwith their flesh, his blood glowing in their blood, his heart beating\nagainst their hearts, his mind illumining and guiding their minds, his\nwill captivating and mastering their will, his divinity ennobling and\nexalting their whole being and faculties--I say, when the cosmos of\npersonality is thus united to the Theanthropos, does it not represent\nmost vividly the infinite being of God? Does the infinite in looking\nat such a cosmos see anything but as it were one Theanthropos filling\nand pervading all?\n\nAs to expressing the action of the life of the infinite, and thus\nraising the acts of a human person to the dignity and value of\ntheanthropic life, it will appear evident if we recollect that the\nlife of the infinite establishes the eternal religion in the bosom of\nGod which expresses itself in the mystery of the ever blessed Trinity.\nFor the Father, in recognizing himself intellectually, and as it were\ntheoretically, produces an intellectual image of himself, absolutely\nperfect in every sense. Both in recognizing themselves aspire a\npractical acknowledgment of themselves, the Holy Ghost, who completes\nthe cycle of infinite life, and perfects the eternal religion.\n\nNow, this eternal religion are human persons destined to express, to\nrealize in themselves, that they may be a most perfect image in their\naction and life of the life of the infinite. This they could never do\neither naturally or supernaturally. Naturally, because such\nacknowledgment requires an infinite intellect to apprehend the\ninfinite excellence and perfection of God, and an infinite power of\nappreciation to value, esteem, and love it practically. Now, naturally\nthese faculties of human persons are simply finite. Even the light of\ngrace, which strengthens the natural intelligence, and the\nsupernatural force, which corroborates the will, cannot do it, because\nin their nature also finite. It is, therefore, the infinite intellect\nand will of the Theanthropos which alone can appreciate him\nintellectually and love him as he deserves. Now, the mystery of the\nEucharist enables human persons to partake of this intellectual and\nvolitive recognition of the infinite by their union with the\nTheanthropos. When, after the solemn and happy moment of feeding upon\nthe flesh and blood of the Theanthropos, I turn myself to adore God,\nto render him the homage of adoration which I owe him as creature,\nthen I am not alone with my limited understanding and will. It is with\nthe intellect of the Theanthropos, which pervades and illumines my\nintellect, that I recognize theoretically his infinite perfections.\nWhen at the same moment I turn to him to offer him the tribute of my\nlove, I cling to him then, not with the finite, limited, circumscribed\npower of my natural or supernatural will, but of a will under the\nguidance, the mastery, the possession, the infinite power of expansion\nof the will of the Theanthropos, under the immense weight of his love;\nand when I yield my heart to exuberant joy and complacency in his\ninfinite loveliness and bliss, it is not the little vessel of a heart,\nwhich can contain but a finite joy, but a heart under the pressure of\ninfinite jubilee, which gushes up from the heart of the Theanthropos\nand overflows into my heart, and makes it swim in a joy and a delight\nknown to those alone who have tasted it. Thus, with the Theanthropos\nin my bosom, pervading my mind, my soul, my heart, my flesh, and\ndrawing me toward him even as the bridegroom draws his bride to him,\neven as the mother presses her offspring close to her bosom in the        385\nintensity of maternal love, I know and I feel that I am adoring God as\nperfectly as a human person could possibly do, and the finite personal\nact of my adoration becomes infinite because mingled with the infinite\nact of the Theanthropos.\n\nHence the Eucharist is necessary, because it resolves the problem, how\nto elevate human persons to the most perfect image of God by\nincorporating the Theanthropos in human persons, and sharing with them\nhis perfections and his acts.\n\nSo far, we have proved the necessity of the real presence, because, in\nforce of the end of the external action, the cosmos, not only in the\nnatures which it contains, but in the personalities also, required to\nbe brought to the highest possible union and communication with the\ninfinite.\n\nWe shall prove the same necessity from the requirements of\nsupernatural life.\n\nThe supernatural term conferred upon human persons, consisting of a\nsuperior essence engrafted on their natural essence, and of\nsupernatural faculties, must live, that is, act and develop itself.\n\nNow, life, in the highest metaphysical acceptation of the term,\nconsists in communion--the communing of a subject with an object. In\nthe infinite, this communication is active. For the first principle\nlives inasmuch as he communicates his life to his conception, and both\ntransfuse it into the spirit. But as the finite cannot contain life in\nitself, it must communicate with an object in order to appropriate it\nto itself. A person elevated to the supernatural moment cannot\ntherefore live, except by communion with the objects proper to that\nmoment. Now, what is the proper object of the supernatural faculties\nof intelligence and of will? For the intelligence, it is an actual\napprehension of the infinite and the finite in all their relations,\ninasmuch as they are intelligible and inasmuch as the faculty is able\nto apprehend them. For the will, it is the infinite and the finite in\nall their relations, inasmuch as they are lovable. Hence, the\nsupernatural intelligence must apprehend and come in contact with the\ninfinite, his nature, his perfections, the mystery of his life and of\nhis bliss, with the infinite, inasmuch as he acts outside himself,\nand, hence, with all the moments of his action and their terms. The\nsame must be said of the supernatural will. This communication must be\nreal and effective, otherwise the life which would flow from it would\nnot be real, but fictitious and unsubstantial. But how to put the\nsupernatural faculties of elevated persons in real, actual,\nsubstantial communication with the infinite and the finite in all\ntheir relations, so that the supernatural term may live, be unfolded,\nand transformed into them? By the real substance, presence, and\ncommunication of the Theanthropos, who in his single individuality\nrealizes the infinite and the finite in all their relations to each\nother. By communing actually and substantially with him, the essence\nof the supernatural moment comes in contact with the essence of the\ninfinite, with his attributes, the eternal mystery of his life; it\ncomes in contact with all substantial creation as abridged in the\nhuman nature of Christ; it comes in contact with the supernatural\nterm, as Christ contains the fulness of it in his soul. Supernatural\nintelligence comes, therefore, in contact with all the objects which\nit is intended to appropriate, that it may expand, grow, and become\nperfect. The same happens to the supernatural will. Thus, in union        386\nwith the Theanthropos by the eucharistic presence, they come in\ncommunion with all the objects which are to bring them to perfection\nby a gradual development and transformation.\n\nTake the corporal presence of the Theanthropos away, and the\nsupernatural faculties would only be in communication with the\ninfinite, but not with the finite; with God, but not with his cosmos;\nbecause these faculties could never come in contact with the whole\ncosmos, except inasmuch as it exists and lives in the Theanthropos.\n\nThis argument introduces us to another. Every elevated person, to live\nfully and perfectly, must be in communication not only with the\ninfinite and the finite as to nature, but also as to personality.\nEvery elevated person must commune in a real, living, actual,\nquickening manner with elevated persons in time and space. The\nperfection of unity of the cosmos claims this communing, as it is\nevident; and the fulness of life of each particular person demands it,\nbecause life in its plenitude[88] results from communing with all its\nproper objects.\n\nNow, how to bring together all elevated persons living at a distance\nof time and space--some in the initial and germinal state, others in\nthe state of completion and palingenesia? We come into communion with\nthings and persons distinct and separate from us by time, space, or\nindividuality, by a _medium_ common to us and those things or persons\nwe wish to enter into communion with. Thus, I come into communication\nwith persons at a certain distance from me by the mediums of light and\nair, which are between me and them, and common to both. Suppose I was\nspeaking, the air which exists between me and my hearers would be the\ncommon medium of communication. In articulating, I would strike the\nair which surrounds me, and the strokes would be transmitted from\nparticle to particle in every direction until they would reach the\nears of my audience, and thus a communication by speech would be\nestablished between us. If, therefore, all elevated persons must come\nin contact with each other, there must be something which will bring\nthem together--a medium common to them all--to make them commune with\neach other. Now, this medium is the real substantial presence of the\nTheanthropos incorporating himself in all elevated persons. I commune\nwith the Theanthropos, with his divinity and his humanity, with his\nintelligence, his will, his heart, his body: I appropriate him to\nmyself; another communes likewise with the Theanthropos; and thus we\nare brought together, we come in contact, we are united in the same\nlife, intelligence, will, heart, body; thus we meet and live in one\ncommon theanthropic life. This is the foundation partly of that\nsublime, magnificent, ennobling doctrine of Catholicity, the\n_communion of saints_--communion of all persons elevated to the\nsupernatural moment. Communion! What is the medium which brings them\ntogether? It is the real, living, substantial presence of the\nTheanthropos incorporated in them, and on which they have fed and\nshall feed for eternity.[89]\n\nHow beautifully, how divinely was this communication of the\nTheanthropos given to us in the shape of food and at a banquet! Men       387\nin all times and in all places, by a prophetic instinct implanted in\nthem by the Creator, have recognized the banquet as the supreme and\nthe best expression of union and communication; because it was to\nappropriate, to drink life at one common source, from one common food.\nIn the eucharistic banquet this is realized truly. Imagine a\nbanqueting-hall as unbounded as space, and a banquet as long as time.\nSuppose millions upon millions of elevated persons entering the\nbanqueting-hall to partake of the same repast. It is nothing less than\nthe flesh and blood of the Theanthropos, not dead, but living and\nquickening, by the indwelling of his soul and divinity, under the\nappearance of the simplest and most primitive elements of life--bread\nand wine. All partake of it; it penetrates and fills them all. A glow\nof theanthropic life runs through their supernatural being; their\nsupernatural intelligence grows brighter at the flashes of his\ninfinite, finite intelligence; their will expands at the embraces of\ninfinite and finite loveliness; their hearts swell with virtues under\nthe pressure of the heart of Jesus; their affections are purified,\ncleansed, ennobled, divinized at the contact of the affections of\nJesus; their very flesh is spiritualized at the touch of his flesh; a\nseed, a germ of immortality is sown in it, to bud and blossom in the\nend of time. They live; not they, it is the Theanthropos who lives in\nthem. And what wonder is it, then, that their natures, coming in\ncontact in him, their intelligences meeting in him, their will\nharmonizing in him, their hearts beating together in him, their\nemotions mingling in him, their flesh touching in him and through\nhim--what wonder, I say, is it, then, that they should communicate\nwith each other, and that their virtues and their very merits should\nbecome common? Those who have never realized such a doctrine may often\nhave marvelled, on hearing a Catholic speaking of those who have\npassed from the initial and germinal state to the state of\npalingenesia, as if they were present to him, as if he were actually\nholding sweet converse with them. This doctrine explains it all. A\nCatholic feels truly that the life of the apostles and evangelists\nglows in his bosom, that the blood of martyrs runs in his very blood\nand ennobles it, that the guileless simplicity and innocent loveliness\nof the virgins beams on his countenance, that the virtues of all the\nsaints are transfused into him; because at the eucharistic banquet he\ncan meet them living in the eternal mediator of all things, the\nTheanthropos, and in him and through him he mingles with them,\nassociates with them, comes into the closest possible communication\nwith them. Utopians have dreamt of a universal society, in which\neverything would be common. It is the eucharistic doctrine of the\nsubstantial presence of the Theanthropos which alone realizes this\nuniversal, sublime, ennobling society of all elevated spirits in one\ncommon medium, and having everything common in the only mediator,\nJesus Christ, in all time and space.[90]\n\nWe feel that withal the arguments we have brought forward in              388\nvindicating the beautiful and sublime dogma of the real presence of\nthe Theanthropos in his cosmos will have no effect on some minds,\nunless we remove the metaphysical difficulties which are raised\nagainst it, and show consequently its possibility. Therefore, we\nwillingly hasten to the task. And as these objections are very\npopular, we shall put them in the popular form of a dialogue. The\ndialogue is between W. and D., the first a Protestant, and the other a\nCatholic.\n\n_W._ I shall begin by a very strong objection. I cannot conceive the\npossibility of the body of a full-grown man being within the small\nportion of space filled by a wafer. Christ was a full-grown man. He is\nso now. How, then, can he reside or be contained in such a small\nparticle of space as the host?\n\n_D._ You will be kind enough to observe what the Catholic Church\nteaches, that it is the _substance_ of the body and blood of\nChrist, which is under the modifications of bread and wine.\n\n_W._ Suppose it is; what difference does that make?\n\n_D._ All the difference in the world. Pray, what is a substance?\n\n_W._ It is that part of a being which remains immutable amid all the\nvicissitudes and changes of the being. These changes or vicissitudes\nare called accidents or modifications; that which remains always the\nsame and immutable is called substance.\n\n_D._ Right; and, pray, has substance any dimensions, has it length,\nbreadth, height, or depth, or is it what philosophers call a simple\nbeing?\n\n_W._ It must have no dimensions, because dimensions may change and\nvary, and the substance must be always the same.\n\n_D._ Then substance is a simple being, that is, it has neither height,\ndepth, length, or breadth.\n\n_W._ So it would seem, and so, if I recollect aright, all the\nmetaphysicians worth the name hold it to be.\n\n_D._ Right again; and, if you remember, Leibnitz calls it a _monas_, or\na unit, and distinguishes two kinds of substances, the simple and the\ncomposite. The simple is one substance; the composite is an aggregate\nof simple substances or _units_. Thus, bodies are an aggregate of\nsubstances or units.\n\n_W._ Well, suppose that bodies as to substance are an aggregate of\nsimple units, what of that?\n\n_D._ Why, then your objection is\nanswered.\n\n_W._ How?\n\n_D._ Did we not say that the Catholic Church teaches that it is the\n_substance_ of the body and blood of Christ, which is under the\nmodifications of bread and wine? Did we not agree upon the theory that\nsubstance has no dimensions? Did we not admit that a body is an\naggregate of simple units, as to substance, and that consequently in\nthat respect it has no dimensions? Then it matters not how large or\nhow small you may imagine the wafer to be, it cannot make the least\ndifference; seeing that our Lord\u2019s body in the holy Eucharist is there\nin its substance, or as an aggregate of simple units, and consequently\nhas no dimensions, and occupies no space whatever. And remark, that\nwhat happens in this particular case happens in every other being under   389\nthe class of bodies. The substance or the number of simple units\nforming a body occupies no space whatever, and is whole and entire\nunder each and every modification. What is particular to the Eucharist\nis that the substance of the body of Christ lies not under its own,\nbut under foreign modifications. But I trust you see no difficulty in\nthis?\n\n_W._ Not much; the main difficulty of space being removed, I can very\nwell conceive that God could easily cause a substance to appear under\nforeign modifications; for I see no contradiction to any essential\nattributes of a substance in appearing under the garb of the\nmodifications of another. But what I cannot conceive is this: if we\nadmit composite substances to be an aggregate of units, that is, of\nbeings having no dimensions or parts, how do you account for the\nphenomenon of extension? A monas, or unit, is like a mathematical\npoint, that is, a cipher with regard to extension; multiply,\ntherefore, the units as much as you like, and the result will always\nbe a cipher with reference to space. How, then, do you explain the\nphenomenon of extension?\n\n_D._ First of all, you will be kind enough to understand that it is\nnot the Catholic Church who is bound to explain the phenomenon of\nextension. It is the metaphysicians who hold the theory, though it is\nthe only true one. It is enough for the church to say, Your best and\nmost universal theory is, that a body is an aggregate of units devoid\nof extension. I show you that my dogma agrees perfectly with your\ntheory. But it may be as well to mention the explanation which the\nmetaphysicians just mentioned give to the objection. They hold that\nextension, as it falls under the senses and the imagination, is not\nreal, but phenomenal, and that the real objective extension is nothing\nmore than the constant relation of all the units of a nature to\nproduce in a sensitive being the phenomenon of the representation of\nspace.[91]\n\n_W._ But the greatest difficulty remains yet. Nobody can be in\ndifferent places at the same time. You hold that the body of Christ is\nin as many places as there are hosts in the universe. This would\nestablish the astounding phenomenon of a body in millions of different\nplaces at the same time. This is certainly absurd, and I conceive that\nyou will find much more trouble in explaining away this difficulty\nthan you did the first.\n\n_D._ I must beg leave to call your attention again to the fact that\nthe Catholic Church teaches that it is the substance of the body of\nChrist which is in different places at the same time.\n\n_W._ Oh! you are there again with your substance! I must own you have\nan ingenious way about you, and, if you succeed in making me see how\nthis circumstance removes the objection, as it did the first, I give\nit up.\n\n_D._ But it _does_ remove it. And let me tell you that you                390\nProtestants, in fighting against the dogmas of the Catholic Church,\ncommit two very serious faults: First, you do not provide yourselves\nwith philosophy enough to cope with her. Secondly, you do not sound\nthe depth of her statement. Then it generally happens that, when you\nthink you are proposing your strongest objections, and you are very\nsure you have her in a corner, you are merely combating a phantom of\nyour own imagination.\n\nNow, let us see if the substance of the body of Christ can be in\ndifferent places at the same time. To do this, we must examine the\nother question, How can a simple being reside in space? Metaphysicians\nteach that a body may reside in space in two ways, according as it is\nconsidered either in its phenomenal representation or in its real\nobjective nature and substance. In its phenomenal representation, a\nbody resides in space by contact of extension; in its real objective\nnature and substance, by acting upon it. I lay my hand flat upon the\nsurface of a table, and suppose I consider both my hand and the table\nin their phenomenal extension. Under this respect, all the points and\nparts which form the phenomenal extension of my hand come in contact\nwith all the respective parts of the table which my hand is able to\ncover.[92] Under this respect, a body naturally _cannot_ be in\ndifferent places at the same time without a contradiction, because the\nsupposition would imply that the parts of my hand which are in contact\nwith the respective parts of the table are also in contact with parts\nof other bodies at any given distance.\n\nBut if we consider a body not in its phenomenal extension, but in its\nreal objective nature and substance, the case is different; because,\nas we have seen, the body as to its substance is simple and\nunextended, and therefore, as such, it cannot reside in space by\ncontact of extension, inasmuch as its parts touch the phenomenal parts\nof space; for it has no parts which may touch. Hence it follows that\nit resides in space as every other simple being, that is, by acting\nupon it.[93] In this case, a body in its substance and objective\nnature does not reside in space except by its action upon it.\n\nNow, naturally, a body in its objective nature and substance is\nlimited in its action to a certain defined space, and cannot extend\nits action beyond it. But there is no possible contradiction in\nsupposing that a body may be endowed by the infinite with the power\nand energy to act upon any indeterminate amount of space at the same\ntime.\n\nNow, with regard to the body of our Lord, we have seen that it is in\nthe holy Eucharist in its objective state, and consequently is there\nby its real action. The miracle in this case is, that the infinite\npower of the Word to which it is hypostatically united intensifies its\nnatural sphere of acting upon space, and makes it extend to thousands\nof places at the same time. To conclude: The question, Can the body of\nChrist be in different places at the same time? resolves itself into\nthis other: Can the substance of the body of Christ act really and\ntruly in different places at the same time? Who could give a reason\nworth anything to show that it cannot? Who could prove any\ncontradiction in the supposition? There would be a contradiction in       391\nsaying that the phenomenal dimensions of the body of Christ, at the\nsame time that they touch the dimensions of one definite space, touch\nalso the dimensions of numberless other spaces. But there is no\ncontradiction in saying that the substance of the body of Christ can\nact by virtue of the Word, to whom it is united, in numberless places\nat one and the same instant.\n\nThe completion of the theory of the cosmos in time and space will be\ngiven in the next article.\n\n\n     [84] Council of Trent.\n\n     [85] \u201cQuos prescivit et predestinavit conformes fieri imagini\n     filii sui, ut ipse sit primogenitus in multis fratibus.\u201d\n     Rom. viii. 29.\n\n     [86] There are two other moments, but as these imply the\n     question of evil, they shall be treated of when speaking of\n     that question.\n\n     [87] St. Augustine.\n\n     [88] We speak of initial plenitude.\n\n     [89] We hold that an elevated person once united to the\n     substance of the Theanthropos, though not always actually\n     united to his body, because this sacramental union only\n     lasts as long as the species would naturally last, yet is\n     continually so united in a spiritual though not less real\n     manner.\n\n     [90] We have given the real presence, and the communion of\n     the flesh and blood of Jesus Christ, as the foundation of\n     the communion of saints. To this might be objected that all\n     the saints of the Old Testament, and many elevated persons,\n     such as children dying after baptism, and grown persons who\n     never could communicate, never were united to the Theanthropos\n     in the Eucharist, and consequently would be excluded from\n     the communion of saints. We answer, first, that we have only\n     made the real presence _partly_ the foundation of the\n     communion of saints. Second, we speak of the perfect state\n     of the cosmos, and consequently not of the imperfect and\n     incipient state, such as was the state of elevated persons\n     in the Old Testament, who were united to Christ by faith and\n     charity. As to children and grown-up persons who never\n     communicated, we answer that we are giving the general law,\n     and not accidental cases. The foundation, therefore, of the\n     communion of saints is the union with Christ, real and\n     actual, of the supernatural faculties. The perfection of the\n     communion of saints is the real presence and incorporation.\n\n     [91] We have given here the theory of the best of modern\n     philosophers. But any one acquainted with the scholastics\n     will at once perceive that their theory agrees perfectly\n     with the above. The fundamental idea of the scholastics in\n     reference to matter is that it is something absolutely\n     indeterminate, which they express by saying that it is\n     neither quantity nor quality, etc., and that it becomes\n     determinate by the form, which is something altogether\n     unique and devoid of dimension. Matter they compare to\n     potentiality, something only possible, the form to the act\n     or actuality. We subjoin a few extracts from St. Thomas:\n\n     \u201cMateria prima aliquo modo est quia est in potentia. Sicut\n     omne quod est in potentia potest dici materia ita omne a quo\n     habet aliquid esse potest dici forma. Forma dat esse\n     materi\u00e6.\u201d\n\n     It is clear, therefore, that, according to the scholastic\n     theory, what gives being to matter is the form, something\n     altogether simple and unextended.\n\n     [92] \u201cCorporalia sunt in loco per contactum\n     quantitis.\u201d--_St. Thomas._\n\n     [93] \u201cIncorporalia non sunt in loco per contactum quantitis\n     sed per contactum _virtutis_.\u201d--ID.\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n          THE LIQUEFACTION OF THE BLOOD OF ST. JANUARIUS.\n\n                              NO. IV.\n\n\nAfter the very full and detailed exposition of the facts of the\nliquefactions, as millions have seen them in the past--as tens of\nthousands may, and do still, see them each year--the question forces\nitself on us: Is this a miracle, as the Neapolitans believe, and as\nmany earnest and critical examiners from other lands have been led to\nhold, after a careful and candid investigation into the facts of the\ncase? Is it a suspension of the ordinary laws of nature, and an\nintervention of the supernatural power of the Most High, producing an\neffect above and beyond the ordinary course of nature? or is this\nliquefaction a phenomenon entirely within the sphere of natural\nlaws--either the result of some law, or combination of laws, producing\nthis effect; or is it the result of the art and skill of men? One of\nthese three it must be: either the spontaneous effect of some natural\nlaws, or the artificial result of human trickery, or a miracle. The\ndecision must depend on the character of the facts.\n\nThe Neapolitans, and, with them, Catholic writers generally, hold it\nto be a miracle. On the other hand, such a visible substantiation of\nthe claims made by the Catholic Church that miracles do continue in\nher fold, as the Saviour promised, and are the seal and confirmation\nof her divine authority, has not failed to arouse the opposition of\nthose who deny that authority.\n\nIn meeting the argument, or the facts of the case, they have not\nalways followed the same line. Two or three centuries ago, they\ncontended that the liquefaction was a lying wonder produced by\nwitchcraft or magic, or by the power of Beelzebub. A little later,\nnatural philosophy was appealed to. This liquefaction of the blood,\nwhen the vial was brought near to the head, arose, they said, from a\nlaw of sympathy in nature, akin to if not merely a peculiar form of       392\nthat law which causes blood to flow from the wounds of a corpse if the\nreal murderer lay his hand on the dead body.\n\nThese replies, or attempts at a natural solution, are antiquated. We\nneed not seriously consider them.\n\nIn the last century, the objectors took a very different ground. The\nwhole thing, they said, was a device of the priests. Some called it a\n\u201ctrick of long standing and great ingenuity\u201d; others stigmatized it as\n\u201cone of the most bungling tricks ever seen.\u201d\n\nThis style of objection still holds its own.\n\nDuring the present century, another style of objection has come into\nvogue, based on the ever-increasing spirit of rationalism. The laws of\nnature, we are told, are invariable and supreme. No violations of them\nare possible. All miracles--in the sense of occurrences above and\nbeyond those laws of nature, occasional interruptions in the grand\nscheme of universal order, law, and causation--are to be at once\nrejected. \u201cThe idea of _their_ possibility can only occur to those\nwho have failed to grasp the great inductive principle of invariable\nuniformity and law in nature.\u201d \u201cIt is hardly a question of evidence.\nThe generality of mankind habitually assume antecedently that miracles\nare now inadmissible; and hence, that, in any reported case, they must\nin some manner be explained away.... Of old, the sceptic professed he\nwould be convinced by seeing a miracle. At the present day, a visible\nmiracle would be the very subject of his scepticism. It is not the\nattestation, but the nature of the alleged miracle, which is now the\npoint in question. It is not the fallibility of human testimony, but\nthe infallibility of natural order, which is now the ground of\nargument.\u201d (Rev. Baden Powell, _Order of Nature_.)\n\nWe have not the space to examine this theory at length, and to show\nthat it is at bottom anti-christian and pantheistic, contrary to the\nsoundest principles of true philosophy. Nor is it necessary for our\npurpose to do so. All the philosophical disquisitions in the world\nwill not prove to a man having eyes that, because \u201cthe laws of nature\nare immutable, and miracles are therefore impossible,\u201d the blood which\nstands in the ampulla was liquid when taken out, or is solid at the\nconclusion. He saw that it was hard, and sees that it is now fluid. He\nwill laugh at the philosopher and believe his own eyes.\n\nNeither is it necessary to confute at length the opinion accepted so\nblindly by Protestants, that the age of miracles has long since past,\nand that miracles have entirely ceased since the days of the apostles.\nIf God can work miracles, what man can limit him in the exercise of\nthat power, either in time or place? And did not the Saviour promise\nthe continuance of signs among them that believe--a continuance to\nwhich he put no limitation?\n\nThe assertion that the Catholic Church is erroneous, and that\nconsequently there can be no miracles in her fold, is more than akin\nto the words of the Pharisees to the blind man, whom our Lord had\nrestored to sight: \u201c_Give glory to God; we know that this man is a\nsinner._\u201d The appropriate answer was: \u201c_If he be a sinner, I know not:\none thing I know, that whereas I was blind, now I see_\u201d (John ix. 24,\n25).\n\nWe therefore leave the general subject of miracles to be treated by\nothers; and we confine ourselves to the fact of the liquefaction. In\nthis, as in every other case of alleged miracles, the decision depends\nentirely on the character of the testimony and on the nature of the       393\nfacts which that testimony establishes.\n\nThe testimony in this case is overwhelming in amount and unimpeachable\nin character. The liquefaction with its marked features and details\nare clearly established. We have only to seek its cause.\n\nIs it due to the regular action of the natural laws which, under the\ngiven circumstances, produce the liquefaction, independently of any\nspecial act of men designed to bring it about? How does a solid body\nnaturally pass into a fluid condition?\n\nA solid body may become fluid by deliquescence. Certain substances\ndrink in water from the atmosphere around them to such an extent as to\nbecome fluid. They are said to deliquesce.\n\nIs this liquefaction a deliquescence? Most assuredly not.\n\n1. The substance within the ampulla--the indurated blood--so far as\nthe eye can judge of it, through the glass of the ampulla and the\nglass sides of the reliquary, bears no resemblance to any of the\nsubstances which are known to deliquesce.\n\n2. The process of deliquescence is well known and is not to be\nmistaken. It is gradual; and the exterior of the deliquescing\nsubstance, being in immediate contact with the water-bearing\natmosphere, is always seen to yield first to the liquefying influence\nof the water. On the contrary, the liquefaction is often\ninstantaneous--_in un colpo d\u2019occhio; in un tratto_. Even when gradual\nand not instantaneous, the differences are marked. The upper portion\nwill become perfectly liquid while the lower portion remains still\nhard; or the lower portion will liquefy while the upper portion\nretains its hardness; or, again, the upper and lower portions may both\nremain hard while the middle portion becomes fluid; or the middle\nportion will continue hard and solid while they become perfectly\nliquid: sometimes, the outer surface next to the glass sides of the\nampulla will be seen to soften and liquefy first--in this case\nfollowing the course of a deliquescence; sometimes precisely the\nreverse occurs--the central portion is seen to become liquid while the\nexterior remains hard and unliquefied. When we add that occasionally\none side or lateral half liquefies while the other preserves its\nhardness, and also that, while frequently the entire mass becomes\nliquid, yet, on many occasions, a certain portion remains hard for\nhours and days and then liquefies--perhaps gradually, perhaps only\nafter the entire mass has become hardened again--it will be seen that\nthis liquefaction presents every possible mode and shade of difference\nto distinguish it from the single mode of deliquescence.\n\nThe difficulty becomes greater if we consider the obstacles to a freer\ncommunication between the outer atmosphere and the substance within\nthe ampulla. The ampulla is a tightly-closed glass vessel, and is\nitself held within the reliquary, another tightly-closed vessel of\nmetal and glass. This twofold barrier must forbid any ready and rapid\npassage of atmospheric water from the air to the substance within the\nampulla.\n\nAgain, no connection whatever can be discovered between the\nsuperabundant moisture or the dryness of the atmosphere at Naples and\nthe occurrence or non-occurrence of the liquefaction. We may take a\nseries of twenty days, which the diary marks as very rainy, or\noccurring in a long-continued rainy season; and a series of twenty\nothers, when the weather was dry--so dry, they were praying for rain.\nIt will be seen that the phases of the liquefactions for each series      394\nare so alike that they might be interchanged. The general hygrometric\ncondition of the atmosphere evidently has no perceptible influence for\nor against or on the liquefactions.\n\nNay, more, it frequently happens that the blood, after liquefying,\ngrows solid again on the same day, and then liquifies, perhaps\nsolidifies anew, and liquefies a third time. All these changes have\nsometimes taken place within one hour. Now, did the atmosphere, during\nthat hour or during that day, pass through corresponding extreme\nchanges of its hygrometric condition? Ordinary men did not feel them.\nMeteorological observers have not noticed them. Registering\ninstruments do not record them. And yet, the habit of watching their\nneighboring and often threatening volcano has made the people of\nNaples as observant of such changes as sailors at sea, and has given\nto that city one of the ablest schools of meteorology on the\nContinent.\n\nWe may well conclude, therefore, that the liquefaction of the blood of\nSt. Januarius is not the deliquescence of a solid body, arising from\nhumidity of the air to which it is exposed.\n\nIs it the melting of a solid substance through the action of heat?\n\nThis is a more important question. Many of those who charge bad faith\nand trickery on the \u201cpriests and monks\u201d officiating at the\nexpositions, maintain that it is by an adroit application of heat that\nthe liquefaction is brought about. Others, who admit the sincerity and\ngood faith of the Neapolitan clergy--which, knowing the men, they feel\ncannot be impugned--still attribute the liquefaction to the heat of\nthe altar, all ablaze with lighted tapers, and of the crowd thronging\nthe chapel, and packed most closely just in the sanctuary itself and\naround the altar.\n\nWe undertake to show that the liquefaction is in no way produced by or\ndependent on heat.\n\nI. Often, when the crowd is greatest, and the heat most intense--say\nin September--the liquefaction is delayed for hours; perhaps does not\noccur at all, or only a portion liquefies, while another portion\nremains solid.\n\nII. On the contrary, it has occurred quickly and for the entire mass,\neven though the crowd was comparatively small. This is especially seen\nin the extraordinary expositions, even in winter, when not a score of\npersons were present.\n\nIII. It has taken place in the open air, while the reliquary, placed\nupright in an open framework, and held aloft above the heads of the\npeople, was borne in procession through the streets; and this in the\nwinter months of December and January, as well as on the vigils at the\nbeginning of May.\n\nIV. It has occurred on days when snow covered the streets, or the cold\nwas so excessive as to cause the usual procession through the streets\nto be dispensed with. As the churches in Naples are not heated, the\ntemperature within the cathedral must have been very low, probably not\nabove 45\u00b0 Fahrenheit.\n\nV. This very question has been submitted to scientific investigation.\nThe professors of the Royal University of Naples, headed by Dr.\n_Nicholas Fergola_, the most eminent physicist of the faculty,\ninstituted a number of interesting observations, which Dr. Fergola\npublished. We copy from his work a table giving the actual temperature\nin a number of instances, as shown by a standard thermometer which\nthey stationed on the altar in close proximity to the reliquary at the\ntime of the liquefaction:\n\n\n                               TABLE.                                     395\n\n  OBSERVATIONS FOR TEMPERATURE AND TIME AND CHARACTER OF THE\n    LIQUEFACTION OF THE BLOOD OF ST. JANUARIUS, MADE BY THE\n    PROFESSORS OF THE ROYAL UNIVERSITY, NAPLES.\n\nA, date; B, temperature, _Fahr._; C, number of minutes which\nelapsed from the commencement of the exposition of the relics on the\naltar, until the liquefaction of the blood; D, character of the\nliquefaction.\n\n  +---------------+---+---+---------------------------------------+\n  |A.             |B. |C. |D.                                     |\n  +---------------+---+---+---------------------------------------+\n  |1794. Sept. 19.|80\u00b0|27\u00b4|From hard to perfectly liquid.         |\n  |            20.|80 |21 | \u201d    \u201d   \u201d  liquid.                   |\n  |            21.|80 |19 | \u201d    \u201d   \u201d    \u201d                       |\n  |            22.|78 |24 | \u201d    \u201d   \u201d    \u201d                       |\n  |            23.|77 |25 | \u201d    \u201d   \u201d    \u201d                       |\n  |            24.|78 |5  | \u201d    \u201d   \u201d    \u201d                       |\n  |            25.|80 |10 | \u201d    \u201d   \u201d    \u201d                       |\n  |            26.|77 |5  | \u201d    \u201d   \u201d    \u201d                       |\n  |1795. May.   2.|76 |12 | \u201d    \u201d   \u201d  semi-liquid.              |\n  |             3.|76 |2  | \u201d    \u201d   \u201d  perfectly liquid.         |\n  |             4.|77 |41 | \u201d    \u201d   \u201d  liquid.*                  |\n  |             5.|80 |22 | \u201d    \u201d   \u201d     \u201d   *                  |\n  |             6.|75 |12 | \u201d    \u201d   \u201d     \u201d   *                  |\n  |             7.|76 |29 | \u201d    \u201d   \u201d     \u201d   *                  |\n  |             8.|77 |29 | \u201d    \u201d   \u201d     \u201d   *                  |\n  |             9.|80 |33 | \u201d    \u201d   \u201d     \u201d   *                  |\n  |            10.|67 |15 | \u201d    \u201d   \u201d     \u201d   *                  |\n  |1795. Sept. 19.|74 |25 | \u201d    \u201d   \u201d     \u201d   with floating lump.|\n  |            20.|78 |26 | \u201d    \u201d   \u201d  perfectly liquid.         |\n  |            21.|81 |27 | \u201d    \u201d   \u201d     \u201d         \u201d            |\n  |            22.|78 |25 | \u201d    \u201d   \u201d     \u201d         \u201d            |\n  |            23.|80 |24 | \u201d    \u201d   \u201d     \u201d         \u201d            |\n  |            24.|81 |32 | \u201d    \u201d   \u201d     \u201d         \u201d            |\n  |            25.|78 |18 | \u201d    \u201d   \u201d     \u201d         \u201d            |\n  |            26.|74 |3  | \u201d    \u201d   \u201d     \u201d         \u201d            |\n  +---------------+---+---+---------------------------------------+\n\nOn the six days in May, marked *, the reliquary was placed on its\nstand on the altar about mid-day, for the afternoon intermissions. A\nsilk veil was thrown over it; and it was left undisturbed until after\n3 P.M. At that hour, the blood was found hard each day; and\nsubsequently it liquefied again, during the afternoon service.\n\nThe foregoing very important table speaks for itself. Once the\ntemperature stood at 67\u00b0, and the liquefaction took place in 15\nminutes, although the day before, with the thermometer standing at\n80\u00b0, it had been delayed more than twice that time. Twice the\nthermometer marked 74\u00b0; the liquefaction was delayed in one instance\nonly 3 minutes; in the other, full 25 minutes. Once the temperature\nwas 75\u00b0. In that case 12 minutes of delay were counted. Thrice it was\n76\u00b0; and the times were 2 minutes, 12 minutes, and 29 minutes. Four\ntimes it was 77\u00b0; the liquefaction occurred after a lapse of 5, 25,\n29, and 41 minutes, respectively. Five times the thermometer stood at\n78\u00b0; and the times of delay in the several cases were 5, 18, 24, 25,\nand 26 minutes. Seven times it stood at 80\u00b0; and the delays were\nrespectively 10, 19, 21, 22, 24, 27, and 33 minutes. The highest point\nobserved at the time of the liquefaction was 81\u00b0. It was reached\ntwice. Here again the times differed. On one occasion the liquefaction\nwas delayed 27 minutes; on the other, 32 minutes.\n\nIn view of these varied results from so many careful tests, the\ncommission of professors could only report, as they did, and as Dr.       396\nFergola maintains in his essay, that the liquefaction of the blood of\nSt. Januarius evidently does not depend on the degree of heat to which\nit is subjected during the expositions.\n\nVI. The same conclusion may also be reached by a single consideration.\nWhen a solid substance is liquefied or melted by heat, it will\ncontinue liquid if the heat is kept at the same temperature or rises.\nIt will resume its solid condition only when the temperature falls\nbelow that degree which is the melting point of the substance.\n\nNow, in those summer days which we have spoken of--such as the six\ndays of May, 1795, marked in the table of Fergola--days on which the\nNeapolitans seek the repose of a _siesta_--the hottest hours are from\n12 M. to 3 P.M. During these hours, the temperature is naturally\nhigher than it was at 9.30 or 10 A.M., or is afterward at 4 P.M., or\nlater. Yet the blood, which liquefied at 9.30 or 10 A.M., almost\ninvariably becomes solid again during these hottest hours, if the\nreliquary be placed on the altar and a silk veil thrown over it, and\nit liquefies again during the afternoon exposition, although the heat\nof the day is then sensibly diminishing.\n\nThe more accurately and carefully the facts of the liquefaction are\nstudied, the more clearly do we see that it does not depend on\ntemperature, general or local. It is not produced by the action of\nheat.\n\nThis exclusion of the agency of heat has \u201cconsiderably exercised\u201d some\nof the opponents of the liquefaction of the blood of St. Januarius.\nConfident that all miracles are, now at least, inadmissible, and that\nthis and every other alleged miracle is susceptible of a natural\nexplanation, if we only knew it, they eagerly catch at any, even the\nmost far-fetched and improbable theories, and put them forward with\nequal inconsiderateness and confidence.\n\nWe have heard it said: Oh! Naples is an exceptional, volcanic\ndistrict. There may exist there some occult or obscure volcanic\nagency, which suffices to produce the liquefaction; who can tell what\nstrange results may come from a combination of all the volcanic\nagencies ever at work in that vicinity?\n\nIs Naples the only volcanic district in the world? Does any other\nvolcanic district present anything like this liquefaction, or\ncalculated to throw light on it? Even in Naples, is there another\nsimilar example? And has not this liquefaction continued regularly,\neven when Vesuvius was quiescent for a long term of years. Previous to\nDecember, 1631, the volcano had slumbered in perfect tranquillity for\nnearly two centuries. A French traveller tells of the flocks of cattle\nhe saw browsing within the very crater itself, then a vast green\nvalley sunk in the plateau forming the top of the mountain. Yet all\nthis while the liquefactions continued as they had done before, and as\nthey have done ever since, in other seasons of quiet, and in seasons\nof active volcanic eruption.\n\nAnd then, we ask, what other sign or indication is there giving\nevidence of this natural influence or law? And what sort of a natural\nlaw is that which acts only on one single vial of blood, and has not\nacted on the thousands of others in the same conditions.\n\nAgain, it has been urged, in much the same strain, that our knowledge\nof the laws of nature is still very imperfect. Many laws are as yet\nundiscovered. Every year is marked by some advance in our knowledge of\nthem. It by no means follows that this liquefaction is miraculous,        397\nmerely because as yet we are unable to assign the precise law or laws\nof nature which govern it. Perhaps, some time, men will discover them.\nThen all will be plain. Until then, they tell us, philosophy requires\nus to note carefully and accurately the facts of the case, and to wait\nfor some explanation or solution of them in the future.\n\nIt is always well to take note of the facts, and to make our theories\nsubordinate to those facts. What we find fault with our opponents for,\nin this question, is that they do precisely the reverse: they fix a\ntheory in their minds, and if the facts of the case do not agree with\ntheir theory, why, so much the worse for the facts.\n\nOne word on the laws of nature. Although there may be many of which we\nhave now no knowledge, and which we may hereafter discover, still we\ndo know some. These may be supplemented--they cannot be contradicted\nor reversed by any laws hereafter to be discovered. The legitimate\nconclusions based on the certain knowledge which we have, are not to\nbe impugned or held doubtful until we discover other laws. We do know,\nfor example, that when a man\u2019s head is severed from his body, he dies.\nAll the known and unknown laws of nature cannot make him live again.\n\nIt will not do to base an argument in one paragraph on the invariable\nuniformity of law and order in nature, and, in the next, to maintain\nthat we are as yet all at sea about these laws.\n\nAmong the well-known and uncontested laws of nature by which we may be\nguided in our argument, are several which have a close connection with\nthe subject before us. We refer to them.\n\nI. We know that solid bodies become liquid by increase of temperature;\nfor each body, there is a certain melting-point. Above that, the solid\nbody becomes liquid; below that, it remains solid, or returns to\nsolidity.\n\nII. The same liquid, at the same temperature, has the same volume, or\noccupies the same space. It is on this law that our thermometers are\nconstructed.\n\nThese two laws are known and established beyond doubt, if anything is\nknown or established beyond doubt in physical science. Let us consider\nthem in reference to the substance which is seen to liquefy in the\nvial or ampulla in the reliquary.\n\nI. This substance has no fixed melting-point. Looking at Fergola\u2019s\ntable, we see that it liquefied one day at 67\u00b0 in 15 minutes, while\nthe day before, at 80\u00b0, it liquefied only in 33 minutes. One day at\n76\u00b0 it liquefied perfectly in 2 minutes, and the next day at 77\u00b0 it\noccupied 41 minutes. It has liquefied in the month of January, during\na procession in the public street, while it was borne aloft on a\nstand, and freely exposed to the general temperature--then probably\nbetween 50\u00b0 and 60\u00b0, if not lower. At other times, in midsummer, with\na temperature over 80\u00b0, it has remained solid and unliquefied for\nhours and for days. Nay, after having become liquid, it frequently\nsolidifies again, just at the hours between 12 M. to 3 P.M., when the\nheat of the day reaches its maximum. It is clear that this\nliquefaction completely sets aside the first-mentioned law of the\nmelting-point.\n\nII. The law of volume is set aside with equal peremptoriness. As you\nlook at the liquid in the vial, you see that it changes in volume,\neither increasing or decreasing. Sometimes the liquid occupies only\nabout three-fourths of the space within the vial. Before your eyes, it    398\nwill increase, sometimes with froth, sometimes even bubbling more or\nless violently, sometimes retaining a perfectly tranquil and level\nsurface; sometimes rising very slowly, sometimes rapidly; and it may\ncontinue to rise until it fills the vial. Or again, if the vial be\nfull, or nearly full, the liquid within it will sink, either suddenly\nor gradually, hour by hour, with or without froth or bubbling, until\nit occupies perhaps three-fourths of the space. These changes take\nplace in summer and in winter indifferently. They are entirely\nindependent of the temperature. They evidently set aside the second\nlaw we have recited regarding volume.\n\nIII. A third law of nature is, that her steps are forward and not\nbackward. A movement once made is never revoked. Chemical changes are\nprogressive, and, so long as the ingredients and agents remain the\nsame, they never go back to repeat a combination which has once been\nmade and then changed for another.\n\nYet continual repetitions of the same forms, combinations, or\nconditions of the substance within the ampulla are a special\ncharacteristic of the liquefactions.\n\nWe will produce, hereafter, in a fitting place, evidence that for\ncenturies the ampulla has not been opened, and consequently that its\ncontents have not been changed. Nevertheless, the alternate hardenings\nand liquefactions, the variations of color, the frothing, and the\nebullitions, and the increases and decreases of volume, have continued\nto succeed each other, and to be repeated hundreds, some of them\nthousands, of times.\n\nNay, leaving aside for the moment these longer periods, and confining\nour examination to the ten or twelve hours of a single day, during\nwhich the ampulla is all the while under the public gaze, and any\ninterference of chemical art with the contents is absolutely\nimpossible, we still find these repetitions of the same form or\ncombination. The blood was solid when first taken out, it liquefied,\nstood liquid for an hour or two, solidified again, and again\nliquefied. Perhaps it solidified a third time, and a third time\nliquefied. It commenced to froth, and it ceased, then commenced again,\nand again ceased. It changed color, and again returned to the prestine\ntint. It changed in bulk, either increasing or decreasing, and again\nreturned to its former level.\n\nThis reiteration of some or of all of these changes, in a single day,\nwhile the ingredients in the ampulla are evidently neither added to\nnor diminished, is contrary to the course of nature. The opposition is\nseen, the same in character, but manifested in vaster proportions,\nwhen evidence compels us to admit that the substance in the ampulla\nhas not been changed or meddled with for years, and even for\ncenturies; while yet these reiterations ever continue. The argument is\nthe same in both instances.\n\nThere is no uncertainty as to the facts of the liquefaction or the\nwell-known laws of nature which we have referred to. Nor is there any\ndoubt that the facts are violations of those laws. Other laws of\nnature, yet to be discovered, may fill gaps in our knowledge, and may\ncomplement the laws already known. None will be discovered to\ncontradict or upset them. It is as vain to wait for the discovery of\nsome unknown law which may account for the facts of the liquefaction,\nas it would be to look for some other unknown law of nature in virtue\nof which Lazarus lived again, and came forth from the tomb--a law         399\nwhich, curiously enough, happened to act just at the moment when our\nSaviour stood before the tomb, and cried out: \u201c_Lazarus, come forth._\u201d\n\nCan anything be more absurd than this theory which, with words of\nseeming scientific caution and of wide philosophic views, would\nattribute the liquefaction to the action of some as yet undiscovered\nlaws. In truth, what sort of a regular natural law would that be which\nmanifests its unshakable uniformity by somehow or other coming into\nplay, and producing the liquefaction, just at those precise days,\nhours, and places which men have from time to time selected, because\nconvenient to them or suited to their thoughts of religion--a law\nwhich caused the blood to liquefy regularly on the 14th of January,\neach year, so long as that day was celebrated as a festival; and\nskipped back to December 16 when a new festival on that day was\nsubstituted instead--which is ready to put off the liquefaction from\nthe 16th of December to the Sunday following, whether the delay be of\none, two, three, four, five, or six days, according to the day of the\nweek on which the 16th may fall, and continues its complaisant action\nfor the quarter of a century during which several archbishops of\nNaples preferred a celebration on the Sunday after to a celebration on\nthe 16th of December itself; and which was quite ready to go back\nagain to liquefying the blood on the 16th of December as soon as\nanother archbishop decided to return to the old usage--which is\nequally accommodating in May, and always commences its series of\nliquefactions for nine consecutive days precisely on the Saturday\nbefore the first Sunday in May, regardless of whether it fell on April\n30 or any day after up to and including May 6--and which, stranger\nyet, has been known often to adapt itself to the journeyings of\nstrangers coming to Naples, and to bring into play its power of\nliquefaction on the very days and hours when these strangers could\ncome to the _tesoro_ chapel, and the ecclesiastical and the civil\nauthorities had come to an understanding, and the relics were brought\nout and placed on the altar?\n\nIt is useless to multiply words. The theory of general law must be\nruled out, as utterly inconsistent with the facts of the case.\n\nWhenever the liquefaction occurs, it must be each time in consequence\nof something done or occurring on that occasion; either because of\nsomething done by man intentionally and advisedly for the\nexpress purpose of producing the liquefaction, or perchance\nunintentionally--that is, without a knowledge of the effect to\nfollow--or else because of the exercise on the part of God of his\nsupernatural power, in answer to the faith and earnest prayers of a\nbelieving people. In this case, it is a miracle, as the Neapolitans\nand those who agree with them steadfastly hold it to be.\n\nWe have already stated facts amply sufficient to exclude one arm of\nthis alternative. The liquefaction cannot be the natural result of any\naction of man, whether intentional or accidental. Any liquefaction\nproduced by the art of man would of course be within the sphere of\nnatural action, and would necessarily be subject to the natural laws\nof liquefaction. If produced by heat, the law of the melting-point\nwould be observed. If it in any way depended on the mutual action of\nchemical ingredients, the laws of such action would never be seen to\nbe reversed and set aside repeatedly, even in a single day. In\nwhatever way the liquid was obtained, it would observe the law of         400\nconstant volume at the same temperature, and would not so frequently\neither decrease or increase its bulk. In one word, man has no power to\nset aside the laws of nature as we plainly see them set aside in this\nliquefaction. We are forced to conclude that it is not his work. The\nliquefaction which is seen at Naples is not, and cannot possibly be,\nthe natural result of any art or skill, or of any blundering of the\nNeapolitan clergy.\n\nThis will be made still clearer if circumstances allow us to examine\nsomewhat in detail, as we hope to do in a closing article, the various\nsolutions which have been proposed, and the attempted imitations of\nthis liquefaction. Their signal failure in every instance serves as\npractical confirmations of the conclusion to which we have been\nalready led. If with the aids of science and skill at their command,\nmen have failed to reproduce the liquefaction of the blood of St.\nJanuarius, is it not clear that the priests and monks of Naples are\nnot competent of themselves to produce the original?\n\nThe liquefaction must be, as the Neapolitans hold it to be, a\n_miracle_--a fact contrary to the laws of nature, wrought by the\npower of God for a purpose worthy of himself.\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n               THE PRINCETON REVIEW ON DR. FABER.[94]\n\n\nTwenty years ago, Dr. Newman delivered a series of lectures on \u201cThe\nPresent Position of Catholics in England.\u201d The scope of these lectures\nwas the exposition of the English Protestant view of the Catholic\nChurch. Dr. Newman showed, with an ability, skill, and cogency of\nargument, a mastery of language, a wealth of illustration, and a\nkeenness of satire which even he has rarely equalled in his voluminous\nwritings, what is the nature, origin, basis, and life of this view.\nIts sustaining power, he proves, is _tradition_, its basis _fable_,\nits life _prejudice_, its protection ignorance. We take the liberty of\nrecommending this volume to the writer whom we are now intending to\ncriticise, to the conductors of the distinguished review for which he\nwrites, and to the clergy and reading laity in general of his\neminently respectable denomination. The indignation to which the\nBritish Lion was roused, and the fierce assault which he made upon the\nillustrious athlete who entered his cage and took him by the beard of\nprejudice, so thick, of such ancient growth, and so venerable in his\nown eyes, is an evidence of the power of Dr. Newman\u2019s arm and the\nefficacy of his weapon. The exposure which he made of one of the\napostate traducers of the Catholic religion, after whom the English\npublic for a while ran open-mouthed, gave occasion to a prosecution\nfor libel, as the result of which Dr. Newman was condemned to a fine\nand imprisonment. It was a striking illustration and confirmation of\nwhat Dr. Newman had so boldly declared. The consequence has been          401\nthat the person whom Dr. Newman was judged by the English jury to have\nlibelled stands just where he did before the sentence was pronounced,\nand that Dr. Newman himself is fawned upon by the British Lion with\nalmost the affection which another lion felt for Androcles when he\ndrew a thorn from his paw.\n\nThe old Protestant tradition or view about Catholics lingers still\nabout its ancient haunts in England, and probably survives in the\nminds of a majority of the English people. Its force is, however,\ndiminished, and its prestige is waning, thanks, in great part, to Dr.\nNewman, but in a considerable measure also to his gifted and holy\nfriend and disciple, Dr. Faber. In the United States, the Protestant\nview and tradition about Catholics was colonized along with the other\nBritish institutions which the first settlers transplanted from the\nmother country. It has given way in part within the last quarter of a\ncentury, and with more facility than in England. Yet it still retains\nan extensive and strong hold upon our soil, and needs many vigorous\nefforts in order that it may be wholly uprooted. The article we are\nreviewing is an instance and an evidence of the condition in which\nthis old Protestant view is lying at present in a large class of\nminds, of whom the author may be taken as a representative. On the one\nhand, his whole tone and line of thought and reasoning is a perfect\nillustration of the thesis of Dr. Newman\u2019s lectures. On the other, his\nmanner of speaking about Dr. Faber and his writings shows the\nbeginning of a caving-in of the great dyke of prejudice even among the\nstricter and more old-fashioned Protestants. As to the way in which a\nCatholic should endeavor to open a breach for the tide through this\nheap of sand, Dr. Newman has shown it to such perfection in his\naforesaid lectures that we can only follow out and apply his method,\nand push forward in some new directions the work which he has\nsubstantially completed. We will, therefore, begin by a somewhat long\nquotation from one of these lectures, as the basis of the remarks we\nhave to make ourselves, in which we shall endeavor to make the line of\nargument adopted by Dr. Newman bear more directly and in detail upon\ncertain specific topics brought to view in the article under notice:\n\n\n            \u201cPREJUDICE THE LIFE OF THE PROTESTANT VIEW.\n\n     \u201cIn attributing the extreme aversion and contempt in which we\n     Catholics are held by this great Protestant country to the\n     influence of falsehood and misrepresentation, energetic in its\n     operation and unbounded in its extent, I believe in my heart I\n     have referred it to a cause which will be acknowledged to be both\n     real and necessary by the majority of thoughtful minds, Catholic\n     or not, who set themselves to examine the state of the case. Take\n     an educated man, who has seen the world, and interested himself\n     in the religious bodies, disputes, and events of the day--let him\n     be ever so ill-disposed towards the Catholic Church, yet I think,\n     if he will but throw his mind upon the subject, and then candidly\n     speak out, he will confess that the arguments which lead him to\n     his present state of feeling about her, whatever they are, would\n     not be sufficient for the multitude of men. The multitude, if it\n     is to be arrested and moved, requires altogether a different\n     polemic from that which is at the command of the man of letters,\n     of thought, of feeling, and of honor. His proofs against\n     Catholicism, though he considers them sufficient himself, and\n     considers that they ought to be sufficient for the multitude,\n     have a sobriety, a delicacy, an exactness, a nice adjustment of\n     parts, a width and breadth, a philosophical cumulativeness, an\n     indirectness and circuitousness, which will be lost on the\n     generality of men. The problem is, how to make an impression on\n     those who have never learned to exercise their minds, to compare     402\n     thought with thought, to analyze an argument or to balance\n     probabilities. The Catholic Church appeals to the imagination, as\n     a great fact, wherever she comes; she strikes it: Protestants\n     must find some idea equally captivating as she is, something\n     fascinating, something capable of possessing, engrossing, and\n     overwhelming, if they are to battle with her hopefully: their\n     cause is lost unless they can do this. It was, then, a thought of\n     genius, and, as I think, superhuman genius, to pitch upon the\n     expedient which has been used against the church from Christ\u2019s\n     age to our own; to call her, as in the first century Beelzebub,\n     so in the sixteenth Antichrist; it was a bold, politic, and\n     successful move. It startled men who heard; and whereas\n     Antichrist, by the very notion of his character, will counterfeit\n     Christ, he will therefore be, so far, necessarily like him; and,\n     if Antichrist is like Christ, then Christ, I suppose, must be\n     like Antichrist; thus, there was, even at first starting, a\n     felicitous plausibility about the very charge which went far\n     towards securing belief, while it commanded attention.\n\n     \u201cThis, however, though much, was not enough; the charge that\n     Christ is Antichrist must not only be made, but must be\n     sustained; and sustained it could not possibly be, in the\n     vastness and enormity of its idea, as I have described it, by\n     means of truth. Falsehood, then, has ever been the indispensable\n     condition of the impeachment which Protestants have made; and the\n     impeachment they make is the indispensable weapon wherewith to\n     encounter the antagonist whom they combat. Thus you see that\n     calumny and obloquy of every kind is, from the nature of the\n     case, the portion of the church while she has enemies--that is,\n     in other words, while she is militant--her position, that is, if\n     she is to be argued with at all; and argued with she must be,\n     because man, from the very force of his moral constitution,\n     cannot content himself in his warfare, of whatever kind, with the\n     mere use of brute force. The lion rends his prey, and gives no\n     reason for doing so; but man cannot persecute without assigning\n     to himself a reason for his act; he must settle it with his\n     conscience; he must have sufficient reasons, and, if good reasons\n     are not forthcoming, there is no help for it; he must put up with\n     bad. How to conflict with the moral influence of the church\n     being taken as the problem to be solved, nothing is left but to\n     misstate and defame; there is no alternative. Tame facts,\n     elaborate inductions, subtle presumptions, will not avail with\n     the many; something which will cut a dash, something gaudy and\n     staring, something inflammatory, is the rhetoric in request. He\n     must make up his mind, then, to resign the populace to the action\n     of the Catholic Church, or he must slander her to her greater\n     confusion. This, I maintain, is the case; this, I consider,\n     _must_ be the case; bad logic, false facts; and I really do\n     think that candid men, of whatever persuasion, though they will\n     not express themselves exactly in the words I have used, will\n     agree with me in substance; will allow that, putting aside the\n     question whether Protestantism can be supported by any other\n     method than controversy--for instance, by simple establishment,\n     or by depriving Catholics of education, or by any other violent\n     expedient--still, if popular controversy _is_ to be used, then\n     fable, not truth; calumny, not justice, will be its staple. Strip\n     it of its fallacies and its fiction, and where are you?\u201d[95]\n\nWhere would the Rev. Mr. Scribner be if his article were stripped of\nits fallacies and its fiction? What would become of the _Princeton\nReview_ if it should publish a fair and favorable account of the\nlife and writings of Dr. Faber, without the potent antidote\nadministered along with that sweet draught of stolen waters which\nmight otherwise prove too alluring to some of the young and candid\nmembers of the Presbyterian flock? The writer of the article, who has\nevidently been educated in the old-fashioned Protestant tradition\nabout the Catholic Church, has fallen in love with Dr. Faber and his\nworks, and with the greatest frankness and candor has opened his mind\nto the public. We can see plainly reflected in his pages the\nastonishment which came over him as he began and went on from volume to\nvolume of the writings of the eloquent Oratorian, and from page to        403\npage of his charming biography. We can see, with equal distinctness,\nhow he fell back on the old Protestant view, the old prejudice, with a\nsort of violent effort, in order to protect himself against the new\nlight which had beamed on his mind and the new sentiments which had\nstolen unbidden into his heart. Moreover, since he could not deny\nhimself the pleasure of communicating the new treasure he had found to\nhis fellow-Presbyterians, he could not help feeling that they also\nneeded a safeguard, and could find none that would answer except the\nold one behind whose shelter he had hidden himself. Suppose that a\nnumber of earnest and inquisitive Presbyterians should be induced, by\nreading the sketch of Dr. Faber\u2019s life and writings furnished by one\nof their own pastors, to purchase or borrow the books which he so much\ndelights in? Suppose they should come to the conclusion that the\nbeautiful character of F. Faber is a fair specimen of the fruit which\nthe Catholic religion produces? That his doctrine is really and truly\nthe Catholic doctrine which flows from the lips of all our preachers\nand from the pens of all our spiritual writers? Suppose these same\npersons should meet with some priest possessing somewhat of the same\nspirit with F. Faber, should listen to his conversation and hear his\nsermons, or should perhaps attend a mission or retreat? We ask the\nquestion, not as a Catholic, but as any one might ask it, and simply\nlooking at it as a question of the gain or loss of vantage-ground by\nthe respective parties. Does not any one see, that whereas we have\nneed of nothing more than a fair chance to compare the evidence, the\nexcellence, the attractiveness of the two religions, in order to hold\nour old ground and gain new, the Presbyterian has lost the greatest\nadvantage he has hitherto possessed, as soon as the frightful cloud of\nodium which the old Protestant view has thrown around us has been\ndissipated? Therefore, that odium must be kept up; that antecedent\nimpossibility that there can be any truth in the claims of the\nCatholic Church because it is so very wicked, must be placed as a bar\nto the ingress of every argument. So has the Rev. Mr. Scribner\nreasoned and acted. We will not impute to him a deliberate and\nconscious purpose to falsify or calumniate, and are willing to admit\nthat he is probably in a great measure the victim of the gigantic\nfraud which he indorses and recommends. His language about the\nCatholic Church and her hierarchy is of that kind which might justly\ncause the cheek of any one not steeled to the endurance of the\ngrossest insults to mantle with indignation. But, when we reflect on\nthe fact that many honest, candid, and well-disposed minds are duped\nto such an extent by this fraudulent Protestant tradition that they\nare almost incapable of seeing anything except through its medium, we\nare more inclined to pity than anger. It is a great misfortune, even\nwhen it is not a wilful fault, to be under the control of this horrid\ndelusion, this gloomy nightmare, which besets the very cradle, haunts\nthe nursery, and sits brooding and glowering on the breast of so great\na multitude of our fellow-Christians. We will, therefore, try to do\nsomething to relieve them of this incubus, and to lead them to think\nand feel more rationally and justly about Catholics and their\nreligion. We will take the expression of the common Protestant view by\nthe author before us in its objective sense, without reference to his     404\npersonal and subjective motives in repeating such ignominious charges,\nand simply examine them in themselves and with reference to the\ngrounds on which they rest.\n\nThe first passage we quote is the last sentence of the article. It is\nexpressed conditionally as to the form, because the direct statement\nof the author was quite different, and apparently contrary to it. Yet\nit does not appear that the author entertains any doubt, or at least\nintends to suggest any doubt, of its truth:\n\n     \u201cWe may admit that the Papacy is the Mystical Babylon, the\n     Scarlet Woman, the Antichrist drunk with the blood of the saints,\n     \u2018the great Whore which did corrupt the earth with her\n     fornication,\u2019 and yet believe that God has a people in the Church\n     of Rome who live and die within her pale.\u201d\n\nHere we have what Dr. Newman calls the \u201cexpedient of superhuman\ngenius,\u201d the startling, fascinating, terrifying idea, the Protestant\nview, which forestalls all argument by prepossessing the imagination\nwith a nightmare of preternatural horror. The writer has had this\nimage before him from a child. He alludes to it as something well\nknown to his readers. It is like the \u201cOld Smoker\u201d in the chimney, or\nthe goblin in the garret, or the mad bull around the corner, waiting\nto execute vengeance on naughty little girls and boys who ask\nquestions. We find it very difficult to argue seriously against this\nchimera. It is like arguing against the odd fancy of the eccentric\nJesuit Hardouin, that the North American Indians are the descendants\nof devils. It is revolting or ludicrous as it is looked at in\ndifferent lights. It appears to our mind to be vulgar, silly,\nsuperstitious, and fanatical. Not, of course, because it is the use of\nlanguage and imagery taken from the Scripture, but because it is a\nwholly arbitrary, fanciful, and unwarrantable use and application of\nsuch language and imagery. It is like the grotesque use of Scriptural\nnames and images by the fanatics of the Cromwellian revolution. It is\nassumed as something certain and well known that the Papacy is\nforetold and described in these prophetic visions and predictions, as\ncertain and well known as the interpretation of Joseph\u2019s dream, the\ndreams of the chief butler and chief baker of Pharaoh, the vision of\nNabuchodonosor, or the Messianic predictions of Daniel. Nothing short\nof this would justify the manner in which Protestant writers apply\nthese terms to the Roman Church, and shut out all calm and sober\nconsideration of her claims and doctrines by an appeal to the\nprophecies respecting Antichrist and Babylon. You cannot argue from a\nmere hypothesis, as if it were a fact or a certain truth. In this\ncase, the entire probability of the hypothesis depends on first\nproving that the Roman Church really possesses and exhibits the\nqualities which must belong to the objects of the prediction. A sober\nand rational inquiry into the real meaning of these sublime, terrible,\nand obscure prophecies exacts, first of all, a study of the\ninterpretation of the fathers. It requires, moreover, an examination\nand due appreciation of the expositions of Catholic commentators. It\nmust be dispassionate and scientific in its character. Now, the vulgar\nProtestant application of these prophecies to the Roman Church has\nnone of these characteristics. It finds no countenance from any\nwriters before the time of the so-called Reformation. It was invented\nand used as a convenient and telling weapon of assault. It is rejected\nby some of the eminent scholars of the Protestant persuasion. On what     405\ndoes it rest? On nothing but the conjectural interpretation of a\ncertain number of individuals. We should find no difficulty in proving\nits absurdity and falsity if we chose to undertake the task. But that\nis not our object. All we contend for at present is, that it is an\nirrational and abusive employment of terms to call the Roman Church by\nthe names of symbolic persons or objects in the prophecies, as if it\nwere certain that this application is just and true, and that these\nnames need only to be repeated in order to designate the Catholic\nreligion as a detestable monster, to be shunned and fled from, but not\nto be approached and fearlessly examined.\n\nAs the Rev. Mr. Scribner has been haunted from infancy by these\nApocalyptic monsters, and has always associated them in his\nimagination with the Roman Church, it is quite natural that\ndistinctive Catholic doctrines should appear to him clothed with the\nsame alarming and hideous outward semblance of monstrosity. So, then,\nhe says that,\n\n     \u201cEven if the sincerity of some who profess to have been converted\n     to the belief of the _monstrous doctrines_ of transubstantiation,\n     the sacrifice of the Mass, the supremacy of the Pope, purgatory,\n     the worship of the saints, and the adoration of the Virgin, must\n     be admitted, still there are some who have secret doubts as to\n     the possibility of such persons being true Christians\u201d (p. 516).\n\nWhy are these doctrines called _monstrous_? Doubtless, all error is\nmore or less monstrous, as a greater or less distortion of the truth.\nTherefore, one who considers these doctrines erroneous might mean no\nmore in calling them monstrous than if he said they are great errors.\nBut it seems to us that our author used the word to express an\nantecedent, obvious monstrosity of some sort, which makes these\ndoctrines incredible in themselves, without any reference to the fact\nof their being either proved or disproved to be parts of revealed\ndoctrine. Now, looking at the matter as if we were mere inquirers or\nphilosophers, what is there more incredible in the doctrine of\ntransubstantiation than in that of the Incarnation, in the sacrifice\nof the Mass than in that of the Cross, in the supremacy of the Pope\nthan in the supremacy of the twelve apostles, in purgatory than in\nhell, in the worship of the saints and the Virgin than in the divine\nadoration of the humanity of Christ? Whoever will take the trouble to\nread our philosophers and theologians, will find that they demonstrate\nthe futility of all the antecedent objections which can be made to the\ncredibility of any Catholic doctrines. As to the arguments in proof of\nthese doctrines from Scripture, tradition, and reason, whoever\nmaintains that they are so obviously proved to be false by the\ncontrary arguments, that it is only a monstrous ignorance, folly,\ncredulity, or wickedness which can induce any one to hold them as\nChristian doctrines, had better favor the public with a clear and\nsuccinct treatise containing the reasons for his opinion. It might,\nperhaps, answer the purpose of a Protestant _End of Controversy_,\nwhich has been a great desideratum for a long time.\n\nWhen he incidentally hits on the subject of relics and miracles, our\nestimable author is still more overcome. Dr. Faber, in his eyes, is\nalways a charming, grown-up infant, who is only made more lovely and\nattractive by believing everything. But not so with those who cannot\nclaim his sympathy for their sweet simplicity, and must be considered\nas grown-up men:\n\n     \u201cWith the exception of a few such men as Faber, it is not to be      406\n     believed for a moment that the educated prelates and priesthood\n     of the Romish Church have themselves a particle of faith in what\n     they teach the people concerning their Popish legends. We do not\n     know what to think of the man who does not feel intense\n     indignation at the bare thought of Pope, cardinals, and priests\n     all encouraging the people to reverence the disgusting pretended\n     relics with which their churches are filled. Let it be remembered\n     that the highest Romish authorities in all countries continue to\n     this day to give their sanction to _what they know to be\n     imposition_ on the credulity of the people; and can it be\n     doubted that even the most bigoted person, if he knew the real\n     facts, would question the truth of a system which rests so\n     extensively on known and deliberate deception?\u201d (p. 528).\n\nThere is something which seems so honest and unpremeditated about this\noutburst of indignation that we are disposed to give the author the\nbenefit of that excuse of childlike simplicity which he so kindly\nmakes good in behalf of Dr. Faber. He has no thought of proving his\nassertions, does not seem to think they require any proof, or that\nthey can be questioned by any one who is not ignorant and bigoted.\n_Let it be remembered_, he says, as of something learned in childhood,\nlike the rules of grammar or the date of the discovery of America.\nEvidently, here is the old Protestant view, the old tradition, which\nhas all the force of an infallible authority. Now, it is not the fault\nof Presbyterians and other Protestants that they have had this\nprejudice instilled into their minds in youth. While their ignorance\nis invincible, it is also inculpable. But if they adhere to it without\nreason, through supine indifference to truth or affection for their\nold prejudices, when their attention has been called to the reasons\nand motives for doubt and examination, they become morally blameworthy.\nA simple denial of the truth of the accusations made in the foregoing\nparagraph, on our part, is enough to destroy all their prestige in the\nmind of any candid and intelligent Presbyterian who is not ignorant or\nbigoted. Our word carries as much moral weight as that of the\nconductors of the _Princeton Review_. And we deny emphatically,\ninvoking God as a witness to our sincerity and truth, every item of the\nforegoing accusation. It is an atrocious calumny, and those who have\nuttered it are bound to prove it or retract it, even if they have been\nthemselves deceived, and have had no intention to calumniate. This is all\nthe reply we have to make to the attack on the personal honor and integrity\nof the Catholic priesthood. But in regard to the topic itself of relics and\nmiracles, we will say a word out of charity to our bewildered and indignant\nfriend, and to all like him who are willing to hear the other side.\n\n_Disgusting pretended relics._ What is the sense of that word\n_disgusting_? Does it mean that real relics are disgusting,\nor that pretended relics are disgusting because of the imposition? If\nit mean the former, we do not understand the feeling any more than we\nunderstand the feeling of one who is disgusted with the furniture\nwhich has been in the family for a long time. You cannot argue the\nquestion in that way. The only way of arguing the matter at all is to\ndiscuss the matter itself. If the relics of the saints are entitled to\nreverence, and have a secret, miraculous power, the feeling of disgust\nis simply an abnormal and senseless feeling, which ought to be\nsuppressed by an act of the will. If it is a question about the\ngenuineness of the relics, no one who is not grossly ignorant of\nhistory can be unaware of the fact that, from the second century down,\nrelics of martyrs and saints have been highly honored and religiously     407\npreserved. There has never been any difficulty in procuring genuine\nrelics in abundance of the contemporary saints. As regards the relics\nof the cross, and other relics connected with the persons of our Lord,\nthe Blessed Virgin, the apostles, and the most ancient and illustrious\nsaints, we must refer the curious reader to books for information. We\ncan only strike, so to speak, a few random blows at the prejudice\nwhich encrusts the Protestant mind, and endeavor to crack it. We\nmerely wish to convince our friends of the absurdity of their hasty\nand wholesale condemnation of our motives, spirit, doctrines, and\npractices, that they may think it worth while really to examine the\nmatter with seriousness. So, without going into any general\nexamination of relics universally, we will just take up an instance of\na particular case of relics in the house where we are writing, as an\nexample of our ordinary and practical conduct in respect to relics. In\nan oratory which is used for private devotion, there is placed above\nthe altar a large and ornamental sarcophagus, the front and sides of\nwhich are of plate glass. Within is a wax figure of a Roman youth\nreclining on a crimson couch, dressed in crimson silk, crowned with a\nchaplet of flowers, and with the eyes closed as if he had just died.\nWithin the breast is a reliquary, with relics of a body taken from the\nRoman catacombs. In the corner is a phial, marked with a red ribbon,\nand which once contained blood. These are the relics of Justinus, a\nyoung martyr of Rome, which are duly and officially authenticated as\nhaving been taken from the Catacombs. Now, whoever knows anything of\nRoman arch\u00e6ology knows that the most learned and careful antiquarians\ngive us certain marks by which the remains of martyrs may be\nidentified. The Rev. Mr. Scribner will not hazard his reputation as a\nscholar, we presume, by classing the folios of De Rossi and other\nsavants of Rome among the impostures of priestcraft. We have, then,\nthe relics of a true martyr, arranged and placed in such a way as to\nmake an object of contemplation to the eye of taste and of Christian\nfaith, which is pleasing, instructive, and fitted to excite pious\nemotions. What is there disgusting in this?\n\nBut then there are the legends about miracles wrought by the relics of\nthe saints, and other miracles. Very true, my dear friend, and, no\ndoubt, very puzzling and startling to one who has been accustomed to\nbelieve that the marvellous and miraculous passed away with the age of\nthe Bible. But, reflect for a moment on the full extent of the\nadmission you will have to make to the infidel rationalist, to the\nenemy of Christianity, who makes our whole religion mythical, if you\nreject all this portion of the belief of Catholics as founded on the\nfabulous. Read Bede\u2019s _Ecclesiastical History of England_, the\ntwenty-third book of St. Augustine\u2019s _City of God_, St. Ambrose\u2019s\ndescription of the discovery of the relics of SS. Gervasius and\nProtasius, and Isaac Taylor\u2019s _Ancient Christianity_. You will find\nthat we modern Catholics are in the same boat with the fathers, the\nprelates, the Christian people of the fifth century. We float or sink\ntogether. It seems to us, however, that before one resolves to follow\nthe shallow and sophistical Isaac Taylor and his servile copyist, the\ntranslator of the _City of God_, in condemning our Christian\nforefathers as the authors or the dupes of a gigantic system of\nimposture, and before one pronounces a similar sentence on the whole      408\nbody of their modern descendants, it would be well to examine somewhat\ncarefully the evidence in the case. For instance, to confine ourselves\nto modern times, there are: the liquefaction of the blood of St.\nJanuarius; the ecstatic virgins of the Tyrol, and the recent similar\ncase in Belgium; the miraculous conversion of the Jew Ratisbon; the\ncase of Mrs. Mattingly of Washington; the miracles of Lourdes; the\nmiraculous cure of a young lady at St. Louis, attested by three\nphysicians; the miracles wrought by the relics of F. Olivaint, the\nmartyr of Paris; the miraculous conversion of sixteen Mohammedans at\nDamascus, one of whom has suffered martyrdom; and many other events,\nbelieved by a vast number of intelligent persons, upon grounds of\nevidence, to be supernatural and miraculous. We do not ask our\nProtestant friends to believe these things on our word or without\nevidence. We simply say that it is the part of good sense and\nnecessary for you, if you expect to sustain your own cause against us,\nthat you should examine these things, and, if you deny altogether this\nwhole class of professed facts, should give good reasons for it. Will\nyou rule the whole case out of court by a sweeping principle that\nthese things are in themselves impossible and incredible, and\ntherefore false? We defy you to do it without subverting the whole\nbasis on which rests the belief in the miracles of the Old and New\nTestaments. Moreover, we defy any one to evade or rebut the evidence\nof some of the miracles we have mentioned, especially the cure of\nBourriette at Lourdes and of Mrs. Mattingly at Washington. We mention\nthese, because we have given the evidence of the former in our own\npages, and of the latter in the edition of the works of Bishop\nEngland, prepared for the press by the author of this article more\nthan twenty years ago. The authority of the Roman Church,\nnevertheless, and the truth of the Catholic faith, do not in any\nmanner rest on any one or all together of the visions, revelations, or\nmiracles in question as their basis, and as the ground of a divine\nfaith. Their highest value, even when fully proved, is to confirm and\nenliven our faith in truths of which we are previously certain.\n\nThe Rev. Mr. Scribner says with great truth that \u201cone great lesson\ntaught by this biography [of Dr. Faber] is the lesson of charity\u201d (p.\n531). He is also so obviously correct in his remark that \u201ccharity does\nnot require us to admit that to be true which is false,\u201d that we\nwonder he took the trouble to make it. Moreover, we cannot and do not\nwish to dispute his right \u201cto pronounce a flaming Roman Catholic\nprofessor a child of the devil who shows himself to be one.\u201d But we\nwish to add to his statement one more, which is that justice requires,\nas well as charity, that one should not make atrocious charges or\napply opprobrious epithets without adequate proofs and motives. Let\nthe reverend gentleman consider, then, coolly and deliberately, and\nlet every Protestant reader of this article consider and judge of the\nfollowing sentence:\n\n     \u201cIt would not be enlightened charity which would make us think\n     that, perhaps, after all, _the licentious Roman Catholic\n     priests of Spain and Italy, and the brutal priests of\n     Ireland_, are Christian men\u201d (p. 531).\n\nCharity! We do not ask your charity. We spurn with indignation any\nsuch despicable counterfeit of charity as that which is here\nrepudiated. The Catholic Church does not need any mantle to throw         409\nover any priests who are either \u201clicentious\u201d or \u201cbrutal.\u201d Let the\njurisdiction over clerical delinquents, which rightfully belongs to\nher, be admitted and sustained by the civil governments, and she will\ntreat them with the right kind of charity, by restraining them from\nall power to sin, and giving them an opportunity of doing penance.\nCivil governments, when they have been engaged in a conflict with the\nchurch, and Protestant leaders, have always been ready enough to\nencourage, to employ, and to reward these outcasts of the priesthood,\nor impostors who have falsely pretended to be priests. By their\nsuborned testimony, the British government hanged Oliver Plunkett at\nTyburn. For the sake of another of the same sort, an English jury\nfined and imprisoned the most honorable and illustrious writer in\nEngland. Examples nearer home are not wanting, and are not, we\nsuppose, quite yet forgotten. All those worthless members of the\npriesthood who have been disgraced, or who deserve to be, we leave to\nbear by themselves the judgment both of men and of God. But on what\nevidence are the priests of Spain and of Italy called in general and\nunqualified terms \u201clicentious,\u201d and the priests of Ireland \u201cbrutal\u201d?\nWe would like to know what opportunity American Presbyterians have of\nknowing accurately the condition of the Spanish clergy. Blanco White,\nas Dr. Newman shows, furnishes no testimony which can be used to prove\nany such assumption as that of our very confident friend Mr. Scribner.\nIn regard to Italy, is there any testimony given by trustworthy,\ncompetent witnesses, who have lived there long enough to know what the\ncharacter of the clergy is, or anything which the violent enemies of\nthe church in Italy have been able to establish against the clergy,\nwhich warrants the opprobrious epithets applied to them in the elegant\npassage we have cited above? That the busybodies who are trying to\nmake mischief in Italy, and whose proceedings are viewed with intense\ndisgust by some honorable Protestant clergymen, keep some very\ndisreputable company among the Italian clergy, we have no doubt. We\nsuppose there are more than one hundred thousand priests in Italy,\nand, as we have seen two such specimens as Gavazzi and Achilli, we\ncannot wonder if there are some scores of similar individuals who are\nable to keep their places under the protection of so detestable a\ngovernment as that of Victor Emanuel. These are the men who consort\nwith Protestant emissaries, and who malign the virtue of their\nbrethren, which they hate and envy because of their own wickedness.\nBut, as Dr. Newman remarks, those who leave the Catholic Church, and\nyet retain some moral probity and gentlemanly honor, do not furnish\nProtestants with the evidence they want in order to sustain their\ndefamation of the Catholic priesthood. Men like Wharton, Blanco White,\nLord Dunboyne, Gioberti,[96] Capes, Hyacinthe, and D\u00f6llinger, do not\nanswer the purpose for which they are wanted, because they will not\nutter the gross calumnies or invent the startling, sensational lies\nwhich certain infamous scribblers like Maria Monk, or mountebank\nlecturers like Leahy and the last new Baron, manufacture for the\ngreedy ears of a credulous public.\n\nThe insult offered to the clergy of Ireland is equally offensive and      410\ntouches us still more closely. It is not so bad an epithet which is\napplied to them, but, while it is vague enough to make it difficult to\nseize and expose the precise calumny which the writer intends to\nfasten, it is forcible enough to make it as insulting and opprobrious\nas any epithet which a gentleman could well use, or a refined and\nscholarly periodical suffer to appear on its pages. It is like the\ngross caricatures of _Harper\u2019s Magazine_. We blush at the thought of\nnoticing such an aspersion on the Irish clergy. The priests of Ireland\n_brutal_? The Irish people are not a brutal people, and it is\nimpossible that a brutal clergy should spring from them. The clergy\nare loved by their people, they cannot therefore be brutally cruel;\nthey are respected by them, and therefore they cannot be brutally\nvicious. They are educated men; they meet noblemen and gentlemen on\nequal terms. Irish society is cultivated, refined, and polished, and\nthe Catholic priests of Ireland are respected by the respectable\nProtestants of Ireland. Such an accusation as this could not be made\nin Dublin, or on the floor of the British House of Commons, without\ncalling derision on the head of the unlucky person who ventured to use\na sort of language about Catholics, which polite society is beginning\nto regard as unfit for its ears.\n\nIt is no wonder that a gentleman so prejudiced against the Catholics\nand their religion as Mr. Scribner has shown himself to be, should be\nastonished or puzzled at the conversions which have taken place in the\npast twenty-five years:\n\n     \u201cHow one educated in the Protestant faith can become a sincere\n     Papist it is difficult for us to understand, and to many minds\n     the thing seems impossible\u201d (p. 516).\n\nHe tries to diminish, and as far as possible to shirk the difficulty\nby laying the blame on Anglicanism and Puseyism:\n\n     \u201cIt must be remembered that for an Anglican or Puseyite to become\n     a Catholic is a very different thing from the conversion to\n     Romanism of any other intelligent Protestant.\u201d\n\nThe perusal of Dr. Newman\u2019s _Lectures_ will show that the Protestant\nview and the Protestant prejudice have had as deep and strong a hold\nin the English Establishment as in the Kirk, and, therefore, the\ndifficulty remains where it was. But, although we may allow that a\nHigh-churchman is logically nearer to a Catholic than is a\nPresbyterian, there are plenty of cases of the conversion of those who\nwere brought up in the other Protestant churches. Hurter, Phillipps,\nStolberg, and De Haller were Lutherans. Mr. Lucas was a Quaker, and F.\nBaker was brought up a Methodist; Dr. Brownson was a Unitarian, and\nJudge Burnett was a Campbellite. There are numbers of converts in the\nUnited States from the Lutherans, Presbyterians, Methodists, Baptists,\nUnitarians, and other denominations. It does not alter the case that\nsome of the best known of the converts who were brought up in various\nsects became Episcopalians first, and afterwards Catholics. For, as\nour author asserts, they became by that step \u201calmost Catholics.\u201d And\nhow did they first become convinced of those \u201calmost Catholic\u201d\ndoctrines, and altogether Catholic principles which they only\nlogically followed out when they became Catholics? Then, again, we\nhave the two Drachs, the two Ratisbons, Hermann and Veith, who were\nIsraelites. Infidels, too, have been converted, as well as Protestants\nand Jews; men of every country, rank, and profession, noblemen,           411\nclergymen, statesmen, lawyers, physicians, merchants, military and\nnaval officers, have embraced the Catholic faith. Since the time of\nthe so-called Reformation, these converts have amounted to hundreds of\nthousands, and it is our opinion that there must be at least fifty\nthousand at the present moment in the Catholic Church of the United\nStates. This fact must, therefore, be looked in the face, and it must\nbe admitted that there is something in the Catholic religion which is\ncapable of convincing the understanding and winning the homage of the\nmost intelligent, upright, and conscientious persons, even though they\nhave been educated in Protestantism.\n\nMr. Scribner admits, with a commendable candor and frankness, the\nsincerity and excellence of Father Faber:\n\n     \u201cOne at least who followed Dr. Newman into that communion\n     deserves, as far as his love for the Lord Jesus and his\n     self-sacrificing zeal are concerned, to be held as a\n     model--Frederick William Faber. In his numerous devotional books,\n     in all his correspondence, and in his hymns, almost all of which\n     are of the highest order for beauty, tenderness, and\n     spirituality, there breathe sweet humility, childlike trust in\n     Jesus as the Saviour of the lost, and the most loving submission\n     to the divine will.... And yet this man, whose self-sacrificing\n     piety and loveliness of Christian character all must acknowledge,\n     was, during almost the whole period in which he so earnestly\n     sought the good of others by his incessant toil, as sincere and\n     thorough a Romanist as if he had drunk in the system with his\n     mother\u2019s milk.... But as long as one retains with these errors\n     (\u2018the monstrous doctrines of transubstantiation, the sacrifice of\n     the Mass, the supremacy of the Pope, purgatory, the worship of\n     the saints, and the adoration of the Virgin\u2019), however\n     inconsistently, the essential truths of the Gospel, his holding\n     them is not incompatible with piety. Whoever is a true worshipper\n     of Christ is born of God, and that the subject of this biography\n     worshipped and loved the Saviour it is _impossible to doubt_....\n     One great lesson taught by this biography is the lesson of\n     charity, and that we should be cautious in assuming that a man is\n     not a Christian because he is a Romanist. Undoubtedly, when we\n     obey the injunction of the Scripture to pray for \u2018all saints,\u2019 we\n     pray for many who are in the Church of Rome. Even a Romish priest\n     who prays to the Virgin, and who teaches the people to pray to\n     her, as Faber certainly did, may be, like him, an humble\n     worshipper and lover of Jesus. And though he may practise\n     austerities, he may do so in a different spirit from that which\n     actuates the masses in his own church, for, instead of being full\n     of self-righteousness, he may have no confidence in his own\n     righteousness.... We may admit, etc., and yet believe that God\n     has a people in the Church of Rome who live and die within her\n     pale\u201d (pp. 515, 516, 517, 531, 532).\n\nLet the reader peruse these passages carefully. They read very\ndifferently from the other set of extracts, and yet they occur\ntogether, mixed up with each other, and we have separated them in\norder to exhibit more clearly the singular clashing in the author\u2019s\nmind between old, timeworn prejudices, and a new, intruding set of\nthoughts and sentiments derived from the perusal of F. Faber\u2019s life\nand writings. We have shown how he attempts to reunite the two. But\nthey cannot live peaceably together in the same breast, any more than\ncould Sara and Agar in the same tent. They are incompatible. It is\nimpossible to make out of Father Faber an exceptional case. If the\ncharge of idolatry is sustained against us, and if, in other respects,\nthe Roman Church deserves the epithets applied to her by our enemies,\nFather Faber went with his eyes open, and remained with his eyes\nopening wider and wider, and died in a religion which cannot be\nembraced without bringing death to the soul. He was no adherent of        412\nany softening, modifying, minimizing school. He was not like any of\nthose whom Protestants are wont to regard with favor as belonging more\nto themselves than to us, as a sort of secret, unconscious\nProtestants, who are only externally united to the Roman Church, while\ntheir spirit is alien from her spirit. There was nothing of Pascal,\nMartin Boos, or Hyacinthe about him. He was not even one of those who\nstopped short at the line of strictly defined and obligatory doctrine,\nas if afraid of being extreme Catholics. He was no Gallican, no\nrigorist, no advocate of anything that might be called Neo-Catholic or\nAnglo-Catholic. Even in regard to minor and accessory matters, to\nmodes and ways in which there is great room for variation in opinion\nand practice, he preferred those which characterize the genius of the\nItalian and Spanish nations, and which seem to the colder and more\nreserved temperament of the English to be the most remote and foreign\nto their tastes and intellectual habits. He endeavored to divest\nhimself of everything which bore the semblance of conformity even in\naccidentals to Anglicanism, and to throw his whole soul into what he\nconsidered to be the most perfectly Catholic mould. He outran in this\nmany both of the old English Catholics and of his fellow-converts.\nEspecially in regard to the devotion to the Blessed Virgin Mary, he\nmade himself the champion of the most exalted views concerning the\npower and glory of the Mother of God, and the importance of her cultus\nin the practical teaching and piety which is directed to the end of\nthe conversion and perfection of souls. He followed St. Bernardine of\nSienna, St. Alphonsus, and the V. Louis Grignon de Montfort, and his\nentire spiritual doctrine is derived from similar sources, as it were\nflowing from the very topmost heights of mystic contemplation, above\nthe clouds, and far remote from the paths and ken of ordinary mortals.\nIn his theology, which is remarkable both for accuracy and depth, he\nalways follows those authors whose doctrine accords with the strictest\ncriterion of Roman orthodoxy. It is not, then, anything in Father\nFaber which is peculiar and self-originated, or which he brought over\nfrom his Protestant education, and has mixed with Catholic doctrine as\na clarifying ingredient, that makes his books popular with\nProtestants, and has excited the admiration of the writer in the\n_Princeton Review_. F. Faber\u2019s doctrine and sanctity are purely\nCatholic products. The homage which he has extorted is homage paid to\nthe school in which he learned, and the masters and models he\nfollowed. The sheep shows the quality of his pasture in the fineness\nand whiteness of his wool. \u201cMen do not gather grapes of thorns or figs\nof thistles.\u201d If our reverend friend were more familiar with the lives\nof the Saints and the works of Catholic spiritual writers, he would\ncease to wonder at F. Faber and his works. We can point him to whole\nlibraries of works in which the characters and actions of a multitude\nof similar men and women are depicted, and where countless forms of\nthe same divine truths and holy sentiments are presented. Those who\n\u201cpractised austerities\u201d to the greatest possible extent, the\nsolitaries of the desert, the holy monks and nuns, the saints of the\nmost heroic type, are precisely those who were marked at the same time\nby their entire conformity to the doctrine and spirit of the Roman\nChurch, their profound humility, and their ardent love of the great\nLord and Saviour of mankind. Contrasting F. Faber, and others like        413\nhim, with the great body of fervent Catholics, as if they had a\n\u201cdifferent spirit,\u201d the great body being \u201cfull of self-righteousness,\u201d\nand these select few having \u201cno confidence in their own\nrighteousness,\u201d is sheer nonsense, and an unmeaning rattle of words.\nWe cannot all pretend to possess the genius, the loveliness of\ncharacter, the extraordinary graces, or the exalted sanctity of F.\nFaber. But all those who hold the genuine Catholic doctrine which our\nholy mother the church teaches, and possess in any degree the genuine\nCatholic piety which she inculcates, are, so far, like F. Faber. The\nsame spirit is in all, whether they be the frail and sinful confessing\ntheir sins with contrition, the sincere though imperfect who are\nstriving to keep God\u2019s commandments with more or less diligence, or\nthe more advanced in Christian virtue and holiness of life. Those who\nhave a false and counterfeit piety, who indulge in the spiritual sins\nof pride, self-confidence, and vainglory, who are willing victims to\nthe illusions of the devil, and seek to play the part of saints in\norder to gratify their self-love and win applause, are like other\nsinners, except that they have more of the hypocrite about them. They\ngenerally become heretics, or fall into open sin, and cease acting\ntheir wearisome part, unless they are truly humbled and converted.\nThese are the persons who have a \u201cdifferent spirit\u201d from that which\nactuates the true children of the church. That F. Faber touched the\ncommon chords which vibrate through the great Catholic heart is shown\nby the fact that he is the most popular spiritual writer of this\ncentury. Three hundred thousand copies of his works, in some six or\nseven languages, had been sold some time ago, and they still continue\nto circulate everywhere. It is not a little remarkable that the same\nchord is obedient to his touch in the hearts of so many Protestants.\nWhat genius, learning, reasoning, philosophy, cannot do, the faith and\nlove which spring from prayer and penance accomplish with ease. It is\na remarkable fact, and we call the attention of Catholic preachers and\nwriters to it, as well as that of Protestants. One who disdained the\nthought of diluting Catholic doctrine to suit the delicate palate of\nthe age, who was regardless of the opinion of men, who plumed his\npinions for a kind of audacious flight into the lofty ether in which\nsaints alone are wont to soar and poise in contemplation, who threw\noff all drapery from the glorious form of Catholic truth, and loudly\ncalled on all men to gaze and worship, is the one who wins the\nconfidence and captivates the hearts of the greatest number of the\nchurch\u2019s lost and estranged children. We trust that his works will win\ntheir way, and exercise their gentle, attractive force still more\nextensively among evangelical Protestants. The recommendation of a\nPresbyterian pastor, which goes forth under the sanction of Princeton,\nwill, we trust, produce its full effect, and excite the pious\ncuriosity of a great number of readers to become acquainted with the\nbiography and writings of the gifted, lovely, holy poet, priest, and\nteacher, who has been called the Bernardine of Sienna of the\nnineteenth century.\n\nWe have endeavored to bring out into strong relief what is really of\nthe greatest moment in the article of the _Princeton Review_, and what\nthe weak though violent counter-protests only make more prominent and\ndefinite, that the concessions to the personal and doctrinal purity of\nFather Faber are a yielding of the most grievous of the charges against   414\nCatholics and their religion. It argues, we hope, a change in the\nspirit and manner of maintaining the controversy with us which is\ncoming on. The teaching of Father Faber is admitted to contain the\n\u201cessential truths of the Gospel,\u201d and his most distinctively Catholic\nand Roman doctrines are admitted to be \u201cnot incompatible with piety.\u201d\nThe conclusion is rigidly logical and irresistible, that Calvinists\nmust consider the controversy between us as one not respecting\n_directly_, but only _indirectly_, the essential, fundamental dogmas\nand precepts of the Gospel and Christianity. Let them, then, realize\nthis view to themselves, think in accordance with it, and regulate\ntheir conduct and language in harmony with it. Let them no longer\nignore and practically abjure the Christian church from the fourth\ncentury to the present moment, and confine their sympathies to an\nimaginary primitive period and the sphere of modern Protestantism. Let\nthem study ancient, medi\u00e6val, and modern Catholic authors, read\nhistory and theology, and learn to discuss the real issue with us. The\nChinese method of warfare, charging upon us with shields aloft,\nbearing the hideous figure of the beast with seven heads and ten\nhorns, with outcries and shouts of derision and vituperation, will not\nanswer any longer. Those who choose to follow such tactics will soon\nbe forced to throw their shoes into the air and take to flight. It is\ntoo late to frighten even Presbyterian children with such nonsense.\nThe weakness and helplessness of the poor Irish Catholics, and of the\nhandful of Catholics in England, made them for a long time the easy\nvictims of oppression and calumny. But the day for treating the\nCatholics of the English-speaking world with haughtiness and contumely\nhas passed by. We desire, however, no revenge or retaliation. We ask\nnothing of Protestants except that they will seek the truth. In the\nwords of Montalembert: \u201cThe truth, and nothing but the truth--justice,\nand nothing but justice--let that be our sole revenge!\u201d[97]\n\n\n     [94] _The Princeton Review_, October, 1871. Art. II.:\n     _The Life and Letters of Frederick William Faber._ By\n     Rev. William Scribner.\n\n     [95] _Lecture IV._, p. 206. Dublin. Third Edition.\n\n     [96] We do not intend to affirm positively that Gioberti\n     formally renounced the communion and faith of the Catholic\n     Church, a matter about which there hangs a great obscurity.\n     But his violent enmity to the Jesuits and his revolutionary\n     principles in general would have certainly led him to attack\n     the clergy and the existing order in the most vulnerable\n     part.\n\n     [97] _Monks of the West_, Introduction, last paragraph.\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n                             LIMITATION.\n\n\n  Through limit and hindrance man works: no limit hath God, and no need;\n  But his wind is musical only when prisoned in the cane of the reed.\n                                                      AUBREY DE VERE.\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n                         MODERN OPERA.[98]                                415\n\n\nNothing better pictures an epoch than the art and literature which it\nproduces. The great characters, religious and political, immortalized\nby history, have always been surrounded by a cluster of noble\ngeniuses, artistic and literary. The generosity and magnanimity of\nheroes is reproduced in the sublime purity of the works of art of\ntheir epoch. Nobility of art bears testimony to the excellence of\nmorals. Our century is no exception to this. Confusion of principles\nin politics and religion is accompanied by an analogous overturning of\nmorals, of art, and of literature. We are living in a time of general\ndepravity; at least, it is so as regards those who pretend to march at\nthe head of modern civilization. But their depraved literature, their\nshameless arts, exercise their disastrous influence over those who\nwould wish to resist the current of the bad passions of the day. It is\nto them that M. Stein gives warning of the danger, in depicting the\nbad conditions into which dramatic music has degenerated. It is a\nstudy of contemporaneous manners, not so much from an artistic as from\na religious and political point of view.\n\n\nGENTLEMEN: A few days ago, it was shown you here how considerable is\nthe influence of the fine arts upon the moral life of mankind; it was\ndemonstrated how they can guide the human sentiment towards different\nends, good or bad.\n\nYou will permit me now to call your attention to a branch of the fine\narts which, more now than ever, and more than all others, exercises\nits influence on the moral life of the people, and which merits thus\nthe highest degree of interest from this assembly. It is dramatic\npoetry allied to musical art, that is, the Opera.\n\nYou all know the great extent of this branch, which has captivated the\nfavor of the public to a degree perfectly exceptional, and which has\nbanished to the second place all other branches of dramatic art.\n\nThe reasons of this extraordinary success are not so well known. The\nexcessive predilection of public theatregoers for the opera is of\nquite recent date. Only forty years ago, the masterpieces of dramatic\npoetry enjoyed the same favor as those of dramatic music. By the side\nof Mozart and Carl Maria von Weber, Shakespeare and Schiller were\nfound on a footing of equality; to-day they must retire before\nMeyerbeer and Offenbach, and be contented to remain eclipsed by these\nfavorites of the public. If you question on the subject enthusiastic\nlovers of the opera, they will answer that, in our day, opera has made\nprogress so considerable, and attained to such perfection, that the\nunderstanding of music is so general among the people, that this\npredilection of an enlightened public for dramatic music is the most\nnatural thing in the world. You know there never can be question of\nany other than an enlightened public; for it cannot be doubted that\nevery man who frequents the theatre is a man of progress. The gallery     416\nrepresents the preparatory school; the boxes, the pupils in\nphilosophy.\n\nHowever, it is difficult to believe that artistic taste and love of\nmusic are the sole motives which cause the public to fill the halls of\nthe opera-house. Forty years ago, the works of Mozart, of Weber, and\nother masters were well appreciated by connoisseurs, but they did not\nmeet with as much success from the public as modern operas enjoy\nto-day. Or is it rather that Donizetti and Verdi, Meyerbeer and\nOffenbach, understand the art better than Mozart and Weber, Spohr and\nSpontini? We cannot admit it. The reason must be elsewhere, and\nsurely, gentlemen, you wish to know it.\n\nIn a pamphlet published ten years ago, Richard Wagner says: \u201cThe\nessential foundation of art, as practised generally in our day, is\nindustry: its moral end is gain, its \u00e6sthetic intention to kill\n_ennui_.\u201d\n\nThis richly endowed artist has in view his colleagues in dramatic\nmusic, the composers of opera. He knew these men well, and understood\nhimself how they set to work. But in the words quoted he has perfectly\nexplained the end and tendency of modern opera.\n\nThe end is no other than gain; and, as means conducive to this end,\neffect is necessary, which must be attained at any price.\nIndustrialism, that tyrant of our age, has also submitted the opera to\nits power, and under its domination the art exhausts itself forcibly,\nbecause tied to the fly-wheel of the artistic fabric. To produce\neffect, to surprise and bring out something which has not yet been\nseen--these are the objects of actual dramatic music. To this end is\nsacrificed not only art, but also all that exists--religion, politics,\nmorality, and truth. This unfortunate course has been inaugurated by\nthe Italians. In their dramatic works, Donizetti and Verdi have sought\nbut for effect, theatrical success, and to this end have completely\nsacrificed dramatic truth. For love of effect, they have trodden upon\nlaw, morals, and even reason. The domination of sense over mind is the\ncharacteristic feature of their music.\n\nBut it is among the French that this style has attained its greatest\nperfection, and even among the German composers, who, for love of\neffect, have Frenchified themselves. The most skilful author of scores\nof operas, Scribe, has offered his pen to these greedy musicians for\nmoney, and shows his readiness to sacrifice all to it. Scribe\nunderstood the Parisian public for which he worked. He knew its\nweakness, and he has succeeded in imposing the vitiated taste of that\npublic on the whole civilized world.\n\nIn the texts furnished by Scribe, all is intended for scenic\neffect--all means are employed to reach this end. The requirements of\ndramatic truth and of morality, even of good sense, are sacrificed to\nthe one end, effect. Frivolous and immodest allusions, which offer\ngross food to the impure fancy, and necessarily soil the imagination\nof innocence; doubtful scenes, as, for example, in _Fra Diavolo_,\nwhere a young girl unrobes and goes to bed before the audience;\nscenes of the bath, as in the _Huguenots_; scenes of seduction, as in\n_Robert le Diable_; political allusions, exaltation of and homage to\nthe revolutionary passions, as in the _Muette de Portici_; base\nflattery to the irreligious opinions and prejudices of the day; even,\nin fine, scenes peculiarly religious, that are put into the piece to\nproduce striking contrasts, and bring out voluptuous scenes\nbetter--these are the artistic means of which these poets and composers   417\nhave made use to produce effect, and to make money with this effect.\nThanks to these industrials of the opera, it happens that in France a\nnew opera has no longer chance of success, if it be not abundantly\nprovided with these means for exciting bad passions.\n\nNow, how is it in Germany? The German good-nature imitates everything\nof which the French set the example. It allows itself to be deceived,\neven to the point of finding _na\u00efvet\u00e9_ where there is nothing but\nimmodesty. It thinks even that it recognizes a religious character in\nworks which do but abuse and vilify religion. The German good-nature\nimagines that these creators of French art have carried dramatic music\nto its highest perfection, whilst in reality they are merely skilful\nworkmen, and often something much worse.\n\nIf it be denied that our so-called artistic and intelligent public is\nintoxicated with drinking from the poisoned cup of the French opera,\nit must be conceded that in Germany there are still many men who know\nand love art, and who therefore, at the start, do not sacrifice to\nthis musical Baal, but render testimony to the truth with regard to\nthe modern opera. They do not trouble themselves about the shouts and\nrailleries of the crowd, who are unreflecting, and seek in art only\nsensual enjoyment and pastime.\n\nPermit me here to recall the memory of a generous man, a grand master\nof the musical art, whom the city of D\u00fcsseldorf formerly counted among\nits citizens--to wit, Mendelssohn-Bartholdy. From the letters he has\nleft, we know that, during his artistic career, he desired earnestly\nto try his creative power on the opera, but could not succeed because,\nnotwithstanding his multiplied efforts, he could not find a text to\nplease him. During his sojourn in Paris, his father wrote him to\nemploy Scribe to furnish him a text, to make the composition at Paris,\nand to have the joint work performed there. This letter of the father\nbetrays a man well versed in business. In his answer, Mendelssohn\nfirst speaks of the difficulties which are raised against strangers\nwho wish to represent their works in Paris; then says: \u201cIt must be\nadded that, among the French, the principal condition is one to which\nwe must always be opposed, even when the epoch requires us to be ready\nto make concessions to the taste of the day. This essential condition\nis immorality. I have no music for that. It is ignoble. If the present\nage exacts such requirements of the opera, I renounce it for ever. I\nprefer to compose religious music.\u201d\n\nHonor to the honest man! Honor to the artist who in acting thus\nhonored himself--who refused to gain money and to make himself famous\nby selling for so base a use the divine gift which God had given him!\n\nAs Mendelssohn indicates here, it is particularly Meyerbeer who has\ndevoted himself to this bad style. In his youth, this talented artist\nhad composed several operas which had not been favorably received. He\nhad tried without success in the German school as well as in the\nItalian. He gave himself up to the mercantile style, and his career\nwas brilliant. Meanwhile, Meyerbeer employed Scribe to write his\ntexts, and these two minds understood each other wonderfully. The one\nfurnished piquant scenes, without regard to the exigencies of reason\nand morals, and threw in a profusion of seductions for all the\npassions. He set to work all the wonders of decoration. The other\nilluminated the whole with seductive music, which sought but for          418\neffect, and had no regard to dramatic truth. In this manner, Meyerbeer\nhas become not only the most famous, but also--and this is the\nprincipal thing--the richest musician of the entire world. He knows\nhis business, as no one before has known it.\n\nMeyerbeer is distinguished particularly for his predilection for\nreligious scenes. With consummate skill, he uses them to produce\nstriking contrasts. None of his last operas fail in this spicy\nseasoning. As a Jew, he is impartial among the different Christian\nsects. He maligns and mocks them all. In _Robert le Diable_, it is\nCatholicism which is put under contribution to furnish material for\nhis religious scenes; in the _Huguenots_, he abuses Protestantism in\nthe same manner and to the same end.\n\nMarcel, a personage insignificant and dull, a fanatical Huguenot,\ninterrupts everywhere the action of the piece with a Protestant\ncanticle, always inopportunely and without reason, but producing\nalways a grand effect by contrast. It is the air of the canticle of\nLuther: \u201cOur God is a tower of strength.\u201d The success of the\n_Huguenots_, this opera being so much a favorite, rests almost\nentirely on the contrasts produced by this canticle.\n\nIn the first act, a merry company of cavaliers is found at table\ndrinking and singing a riotous song. Marcel, the incomprehensible\nsolitary, proceeds to thunder out, with a loud voice accompanied with\nbrazen instruments: \u201cHear me, strong God! My voice is raised to thee.\u201d\nThis canticle, in the midst of jovial drinkers, intermingled with the\nsong they are singing--how can it fail of effect? In the second act,\nthere is a very violent scene. At the instigation of Queen Margaret,\nthe Count St. Bris has proposed his daughter to the Chevalier Raoul,\nwho refuses her. Valentina, the daughter, despised and scorned,\ncomplains; Queen Margaret preaches peace; all shout and fence, and\nMarcel adds his chorus in a thundering voice, \u201cGod, our guard and\nprotection, listen to our cries!\u201d Is not this a shameful prostitution\nof sacred things? But it produces effect; and our opera-going public,\nwhich boasts of its delicate taste, is enchanted with it, and imagines\nthat the violent impression produced by these contrasts is a religious\nand edifying sentiment.\n\nIn _L\u2019Africaine_, the last production of Meyerbeer, he introduces us\nimmediately, in the first act, to a sitting of the secret council of\nthe King of Portugal. It is understood that the grand inquisitor and a\ncertain number of cardinals play the principal _r\u00f4le_. Finally, Vasco\nde Gama is condemned, loaded with chains, and thrown into the deepest\ndungeon. Why? Because he has affirmed the existence of distant and\nunknown lands of which the Scripture does not speak. You know well\nthat ecclesiastical dignitaries have always had the habit of refuting\nwith chains and a prison novel ideas and scientific discoveries. At\nleast, by this scene the public is convinced of it, with the aid of\nstunning music. This same opera, so much approved, contains also a\nvery piquant amorous intrigue. There are several choruses of prayer,\nthen a large vessel on the stage, and finally a manchineel tree, which\nspreads death. We must agree that it is the possible and the\nimpossible.\n\nHowever, it is not the Jew Meyerbeer who has pushed to the extreme his\nmusical industry. The Jew Offenbach has gone much further. The former\nspeculated principally on the curiosity of the unreflecting masses;\nbut while his art is under subjection to frivolity, he still seeks        419\nto preserve a certain decorum. But Offenbach has got rid of the last\nremains of modesty and propriety. Yet the Christian public besiege the\nworkshop, and applaud with frenzy the musical indecencies of this\nindustrious Jew.\n\n_Orph\u00e9es aux Enfers_, _La Belle H\u00e9l\u00e8ne_, _La Vie Parisienne_, such, for\nseveral years, have been the favorite works with a public in advance\nof its age. These operas have been played every day for weeks and\nmonths on every stage; and often there are disputes over the tickets\nfor these representations. Of course, it is all owing to the beautiful\nmusic.\n\nWith these impure works, dramatic music has attained the extreme of\ndegradation. After having been lowered by Meyerbeer and the modern\ncomposers of France and Italy to the rank of an _equestrienne_, who\nrides round the circus in elegant costume, the muse of music has been\nthrown to the demi-monde by Offenbach. She could not fall lower.\n\nGentlemen, permit me to repeat the question which was laid before you\nin the beginning. What is the reason that modern opera has gained the\nfavor of the public to so eminent a degree that not only the classical\nworks of this kind, but also the masterpieces of declaimed drama, are\nbanished from the theatre? Now, we can answer this question. The\nreason of this surprising phenomenon is that, by the modern opera, art\nhas entered into the service of sensuality, art has lost all generous\nand elevated motives. It has tasked itself to amuse a public depraved\nby pleasures of every kind--to satisfy curiosity, to flatter the bad\npassions, the errors and prejudices of the age, and to make a bad use\nof the questions of the day.\n\nThose who still doubt what I say have but to notice the intimate union\nof the ballet with the opera which the prevailing taste dictates as an\ninexorable law. In most cases, the ballet has no logical or artistic\nconnection with the opera. It is a foreign element which imposes\nitself upon musical and dramatic action, and which is given with the\navowed intention of exciting voluptuousness. Reason is forced to\ndespise the ballet; moral sentiment condemns it; musical art is\nobliged to lament over it as a sad aberration; nevertheless, modern\nopera has concluded an alliance for life with this frivolous creation\nof the present time. You know the proverb, \u201cTell me what company you\nkeep: I will tell you what you are.\u201d\n\nOur friends of the opera do not like to be told these things.\nJudgments like these are for them the expressions of a mind opposed to\nmodern civilization, and lost in obsolete ideas. If one of these\npartisans of modern opera hears what I have just said, he will\ncertainly say that the darkness of my ultramontane soul is blacker\nthan the color of my robe. He will maintain that it is only \u00e6sthetic\neducation, artistic sense, enthusiasm for music, which draws him and\nhis equals to similar works; and, nevertheless, the old operas which\nare veritable works of art, but which do not contain any piquant\nsubject and little food for sensuality, leave them cold and\nindifferent in the depth of their hearts. The symphonies of Beethoven\nand Mozart cause these lovers of art to yawn, and the name alone of an\noratorio makes their flesh creep.\n\nWhat position have we Christians to take, in order to oppose these\nalarming phenomena of the present day? A critic of the seventeenth\ncentury, named Wehrenfels, has laid down this principle for dramatic\nart in general: \u201cFinally, all our dramatic representations should be      420\nsuch that Plato could tolerate them in his republic, that Cato could\nlisten to them with pleasure, that vestals could witness them without\nwounding their chastity, and, what is more important, that Christians\ncould listen to them.\u201d\n\nYou will say this is too antiquated a principle. Among the greater\npart of our amateurs at the theatre it will only provoke expressions\nof doubt; they will say that this poor Wehrenfels is far behind modern\ncivilization. Notwithstanding, no one undertakes to refute this\nprinciple, to demonstrate that these requirements are groundless. But\nas long as they are not refuted, we must consider them justified, and\nwe ask if they should not be applied to the opera. Is not the drama\nwhen sung to be submitted to the same true moral and \u00e6sthetic laws as\nthe drama recited?\n\nTo the phenomena of life as produced before our eyes, we apply the\nscale of conscience and of reason. Why should it not be our right and\nour duty to apply them also to the opera, and to regulate our conduct\nfrom the result of such an examination? No one will deny that this\nquestion is well founded. Nevertheless, it would meet with much\nresistance. Our enthusiasts of the opera have tacitly agreed that,\nwhere it is a question of opera, good sense and conscience should be\nsilent. But ourselves, gentlemen, ought never to abandon these\nprinciples. We should no longer be Christians, if we did not apply to\nthe opera the principles we practise in our lives.\n\nLet us, then, apply these principles to the music of our day. What\nmust we do if it be condemned for frivolity, for immodesty and abuse\nof religious things? If we find that the scenes are arranged solely\nwith a view to effect, and in disregard of good sense and logic? If\nreason and conscience, by common accord, condemn this degradation of\nart, and the deception with which this degradation is presented as\nveritable art? What must we do, in presence of these great accusations\nagainst modern opera?\n\nWould you condemn to silence your reason and your conscience because\nyou are promised amusement? Would you wish, as a return for your\nmoney, to have sung on the stage words you despise, words you would\nrepulse if they were spoken? Would you put a temptation before your\nchildren, in leading them to the opera--these same children whom you\ntried to bring up in honesty, in religion, in piety, and the\nobservance of all Christian duties? Do you believe that at the opera,\nwhere religion is made a plaything, where it is exposed to contempt,\nattacked and calumniated, they will learn to esteem and to obey it?\nWill they learn good morals, decency, and propriety from the dancers\nof the ballet? It is sufficient to place before you these questions;\nyou will answer them yourselves. But why this severe criticism? What\nwill result from it?\n\nWill my words succeed in turning dramatic music from its bad course,\nand making it enter on a better? Will the thousands and thousands of\nindividuals who find their greatest pleasure in modern opera take\nnotice of them at all? I do not count upon that. But I hope with\nconfidence, gentlemen, that my words will engage you to examine more\nclosely the subject of which I have been treating. You will not form\nyour judgment from charlatans of criticism and enthusiastic partisans\nof sensuality; but you will judge for yourselves, by vigorously\napplying your Christian principles. If you are thus affected, my words\nwill have borne fruit.\n\n\n     [98] _Lecture of M. Stein, Curate of Cologne._ Delivered\n     before the Catholic Congress at D\u00fcsseldorf.\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n                  THE STUDY OF SACRED HISTORY.[99]                        421\n\n\nIt has been said that a distinguished English lady, remarkable for her\nintelligence in the treatment of many questions affecting the\ncondition of the proletarian classes, and by whose persevering efforts\nthe erection and management of reformatories for juvenile offenders,\nand industrial schools for that vagrant portion of the community known\nin our civilized era as \u201cstreet Arabs,\u201d and who herself personally\nsuperintended most admirably a reformatory for young girls in Bristol,\nwas accustomed to say to her visitors, in reply to their astonishment\nat her wonderful perseverance and success: \u201cWhenever I see anything\nthat I can call radically wrong, I never feel satisfied till I can\nrender to myself an intelligent reason why it has gone wrong; and\nthen, when I know what the causes are, I set myself to the task of\npreventing, as far as possible, the occurrence of anything of the same\nkind in the future.\u201d\n\nThis practical view of the duties of life, which proved of such\nbenefit to the beneficiaries of that philanthropic lady, seems to have\nbeen adopted by the author of the work before us, and to have been\napplied on a more comprehensive scale. Becoming convinced, after long\ninvestigation, that one of the evils which at present afflict society\narises out of spiritual ignorance of the history of the church and of\nthe pre-Christian era, instead of supinely contenting himself with\nbemoaning the calamity, he set to work and produced a book which,\nunder its present modest title, contains a concise history not only of\nthe Catholic Church, but of the ways of God\u2019s providence to man from\nthe creation, as far as they have been revealed to us through the\npages of Holy Writ and in the writings of ancient authorities. The\nreverend author by this admirable work hoped, if he could not\ncontribute to dispel the mists of doubt and dissent now so widespread\nin both hemispheres, to at least put into the hands of the rising\ngeneration a preventive and an argument against those who would either\ndeny the existence of a revealed law, or, admitting, would pervert its\ncommands to their own weak or vicious purposes. His success so far has\nbeen proportionate to his ability and purity of motive.\n\nWe are all aware that the best part of the Christian people has been\nplunged into profound grief and stupefaction by the recent murder, or,\nas the Holy Father more emphatically expressed it, the parricide of\nthe late Archbishop of Paris, and so many of his faithful clergy. Now,\nwho were the perpetrators of that most foul deed? In one sense,\ncertainly, not a wild, tumultuous mob, acting without system or\nguidance, nor yet private assassins in the employment of the secret\nsocieties, or moved thereto by personal malice or revenge. On the\ncontrary, the deed was done in the open day, by the arbitrary orders\nof what was claimed to have been a regularly established government,\nand executed by its armed soldiery, two of whom, even when about to\nobey the mandates of their supposed superiors, knelt at the feet of       422\nthe holy prelate and begged his forgiveness for the crime they were\nabout to commit. It is not claimed by the apologists of the Communists\nthat their illustrious victims were guilty of any offence against the\nstate, or that even the form of a trial was accorded them; and yet\nthere are to be found many persons, considering themselves honorable\nand intelligent, who openly or secretly applaud that glaring and cruel\nact of injustice, and who thoroughly sympathize with the European\nrevolutionists--those enemies of all law, who, if they had the power,\nwould repeat in every city in Christendom the late disgraceful scenes\nof Paris. It is a melancholy fact that outside the Catholic Church the\nhorrible murder of the venerable Archbishop Darboy and so many of his\nclergy has been the cause of ill-disguised congratulation, not only\namong those who are in direct affiliation with the revolutionists, but\namid the sects who profess to regard the Decalogue as part of their\nfundamental doctrine. Have we yet heard from the thousands of pulpits\nand hundreds of newspapers, occupied and controlled by the various\nProtestant sects, one open and manly protest against the atrocious\ncriminals who have so recently sullied the fair fame of France by\ndeeds that would have disgraced the most degraded forms of savage\nlife? Not one.\n\nA fact like this, so patent and portentous, while it shows how large a\nportion of civilized society has fallen away from the plainest\nteachings of Christian charity and justice, must necessarily lead to\nthe inquiry as to the best means of arresting, and, if possible,\ncorrecting so monstrous an evil. Recognizing it as such, it is our\nduty fearlessly and persistently to endeavor to correct it, for\n\u201c_Felix qui potuis rerum cognoscere caus\u00e6_\u201d will always be a true\nmaxim, even when we are engaged in the study of the worst of human\nmiseries and disasters with a view to their alleviation.\n\nIn contemplating the many evils which now afflict Christian society,\nthe creation and formerly the obedient creature of the Catholic\nChurch, we must recollect that God has not given to his church the\ngift of being the infallible preserver of the faith in every nation\nand at all times, no more than she can guarantee to all people civil\norder and wise government. There is no doubt that the church is the\ntree set up in this world, the leaves of which are the health of\nmankind, \u201c_et quis tibi imputavit si perierint nationes quas tu\nfecisti_\u201d (Wisd. xii. 12); but who shall accuse her of countenancing\nthe disorders which have arisen through the rejection of her authority,\nand to which she has ever been strenuously opposed? Our Lord himself\ncontemplates the rebellion of nations and people against his doctrine. To\nthe angel of the Church of Ephesus the Spirit said, \u201cBe mindful from\nwhence thou hast fallen: and do penance, and resume thy first works. Or\nif not, behold I come to thee and will move thy candlestick out of its\nplace, except thou dost penance\u201d (Apoc. ii. 5). Even the presence of the\npriesthood among us in adequate numbers is no assurance against schism\nand infidelity. Though we may have every confidence in their sanctity and\nthe soundness of their teachings, we cannot always be certain that the\nduties of their holy calling will be performed with uniform discretion,\nintelligence, and zeal, or that the hearts of their congregations will\nrespond on all occasions and amid all circumstances to the teachings of\ntheir pastors. It is true that at all times and in all places the\nsoldiers of the Cross have proved themselves the faithful guardians of\npiety and morality, but it must be admitted that occasionally,            423\nparticularly in Europe, they have not attached sufficient importance\nto the necessity of the intellectual training of the masses and to the\nwonderful advances of the human mind in abstract and practical\nsciences. What the Abb\u00e9 Fleury wrote of a past generation is\npartially, at least, true in this. In the preface to his _Historical\nCatechism_, he says:\n\n     \u201cWe see a great number of devout persons who have read great\n     numbers of spiritual books, and are familiar with a large variety\n     of devotional practices, but who are totally wanting in an\n     understanding of the very groundwork of religion.\u201d\n\nFleury\u2019s testimony receives a remarkable corroboration in the\ncircumstance that, in the last century, whoever derided the\ntraditional belief in God and in the Christian revelation acquired\ncredit with the multitude as an \u201c_esprit fort_.\u201d In short, the idea of\nthere being so much as the possibility of an \u201c_esprit fort_\u201d who\nbelieved in God and who _ex animo_ professed the faith of the church,\nappeared to be unknown, and the universal notion in France was that\nthe choice consisted in being feeble and pious or strong-minded and\natheistical. Under the influence of this notion, the principal part of\nthe male population of France fell away from the faith, and it has\nrequired the persistent efforts of at least two generations of\npriests, and with but partial success, to lead them back to the\nchurch. Religion in Great Britain during the past century is known to\nhave largely taken its complexion from France, and it is remarkable\nthat the bulk of the English Protestants affected to form precisely\nthe same estimate of it, and that it was a power inimical to the\ncultivation of the understanding and a decided enemy of knowledge and\nprogress. The same phenomenon appears in Italy. The Italian people are\nstill deeply attached to the traditions of the Catholic faith, but the\npopular idea of the Catholic religion, misled by the slanders and\nmisrepresentations of the revolutionists, is that it is the religion\nof the timid, the feeble, and the pious, that its wants are limited to\nfunctions and processions, beads and prayer-books, or what would be\nrather scoffingly called \u201c_roba di piet\u00e0_,\u201d and that it is in no way\nconscious of any wants proper to a manly understanding, and\nconsequently never expected to take any pains to satisfy them. In\nGermany, there are perfectly analogous symptoms. Catholics in some\nparts of that great empire bear the contemptuous name of\n_Dunkelm\u00e4nner_, men of darkness; and they are looked upon, not merely\nby the positive enemies of all religion, but by the busy throng, as\ncertainly no friends to the legitimate progress and cultivation of the\ngifts of the understanding.\n\nThe consequences of these disastrous tendencies to fall off from the\npractice of the virtues and observances of the church are apparent to\nall thinking men, and, if not checked, will have an equally marked\neffect on the morals and faith of future generations. To some extent,\nwe humbly submit, they are due to a want of thorough education, not\nonly spiritually but humanly, among a large number of Catholics, who,\nnot deficient in piety and the desire to live according to the\nprecepts of Christianity, are too often led away by the sophistries\nand superior knowledge--real or affected--of the opponents of their\nfaith. Learning is said to be the handmaiden of religion--and is never\nso brilliant as when employed in her service, while religion,\nprofiting by her assistance, moves on from one triumph to another. It      424\ndoes not appear to be a part of the providence of God that man should\nsimply grow into a knowledge of the doctrines of the church, in the\nsame manner as he advances to bodily maturity, but by intelligent and\npersevering teaching and diligent practice. In our world, every year\nbrings new-comers on the stage, and the message to the Church of\nEphesus was, \u201c_Age p\u0153nitentiam et prima opera fac_.\u201d The Catholic\nclergy inherit a tradition, long anterior to that of the past century,\nof being the patrons and the cultivators of the human mind, and they\nstill should remember these true and ancient glories of their sacred\ncalling. The language of the sacred liturgy on the day of Pentecost is\nbeautifully expressive on this subject:\n\n    \u201c_Da tuis fidelibus_\n     _In te confitentibus_\n     _Sacrum septenarium._\u201d\n\n_Sacrum Septenarium_--the sacred seven gifts of the Holy Ghost,\namongst which we find the \u201cspirit of understanding and of knowledge.\u201d\nAll the gifts of the Holy Ghost doubtless require to receive their due\nshare of honor and cultivation. But in a generation which has gone so\nwidely and so terribly wrong by the way of a perverted and deceived\nintellect, the cause of faith in the world demands that the battle be\nfought with a special determination on the ground of the intelligence.\nIf Satan relies on the perversion of the mind for leading them away\nfrom belief in the truth and divinity of the revelation brought by\nMoses, and perfected by the coming and ministry of one greater than\nMoses, St. Michael must contend with Satan for the possession of the\nbody of Moses. The more the spirit of deception that has gone abroad\nseeks to discredit the Mosaic revelation, which is the forerunner in\nthe world of the revelation of Jesus Christ, the more we must\ndiligently persevere and insist that all who are willing to listen\nshould stir up within themselves the gifts of the spirit of\nunderstanding and knowledge, and qualify themselves to resist and\nconfront the spirit of error wherever they meet with it and on all\nfitting occasions. Every Catholic family ought to be a centre or focus\nof Christian information. In every household there ought to be books\ncontaining the narrative of the works of God through the line of his\ngreat saints, beginning from the sacred narrative of Moses downwards\nto the present time. Sacred history is the true tower of strength to\nthe cause of faith.\n\nThis study should not, as it has heretofore generally been, confined\nto ancient history; for, though we may find in the Old Testament the\nwonderful working of God in his intercourse with his creatures, and\nsee developed and completed his works and promises to his chosen\npeople, we have, under the new dispensation and in the history of the\nCatholic Church, as indubitable proofs of the promises and fulfilment\nof them in the fulness of time by our divine Maker. The history of the\nPopes, for example, from St. Peter to Pius IX., is replete with\nprovidential incidents, astonishing the worldly and baffling the\nso-called wisdom of the sceptical. The perpetual rejuvenation of the\nchurch herself when apparently crushed and disintegrated beneath the\nload of kingly oppression and the lawlessness of the mob, is in itself\nnot only a perpetual miracle, but the evident fulfilment of the\npromises of the Founder to be with her all days even to the\nconsummation of the world. The lives of the grand throng of saints,\nmartyrs, confessors, and missionaries--the glory and pride of the\nchurch--their sufferings, triumphs, and miracles; their love of art       425\nand literature, and all that makes life holy and beautiful, are\nfraught with lessons before which even the story of Abraham\u2019s\nsacrifice and Joseph\u2019s forgiveness sink into comparative\ninsignificance. Sacred history should be read as a whole, from the\nbeginning of time to the present day, giving to the more ancient part\nits proper share of attention, not only for its own sake but as\nprefiguring the more perfect system of Christianity. But the history\nof the Church deserves and should receive our chiefest and most marked\nattention.\n\nThe book of the Rev. Henry Formby, which, under its simple title,\ncontains a concise and chronological narrative of sacred history from\nthe creation down to our own times, in this respect is one of the most\nuseful publications that has recently appeared from the English press,\nand, though but an abridgment of a much more voluminous work on the\nsame subject, it preserves all the essential features of the original\nwith singular simplicity and lucidity of style. The title gives but a\nfaint idea of its merits, for in truth it is not a mere collection of\nstories in the general acceptation of that term, but short, succinct,\nand correct historical sketches of events related in the Old\nTestament, and a condensed and necessarily short history of the church\nfrom its foundation. The arrangement of the subject is admirable, and,\nin view of the vast field of Biblical lore to be traversed, and the\nnumerous historical facts of the first importance to be touched on, at\nleast in the confined limits of one volume, there are displayed a\nclearness of narration, and a nice appreciation of the salient points\nin the spiritual progress of the human race, that make the book easy\nto be read and understood by even the most ordinarily instructed\nperson. In fact, if the author had substituted \u201cpictures\u201d for\n\u201cstories\u201d in his title-page, he would have been more correct.\n\nA general knowledge of the history of the creation, and of God\u2019s once\nchosen people, the Jews, as well as an acquaintance with that of the\nchurch herself, the perfection of what was imperfectly prefigured\nunder the old dispensation, ought to be an essential ingredient in the\neducation of every Catholic child and of every adult, no matter what\nmay be his condition in life; but heretofore the undertaking has been\nso laborious on account of the want of elementary books on those\nall-important subjects, that but little was generally known of the\nworkings of Providence in ancient times, and the typical significance\nof many of the events related in the Old Testament, except by the\nlearned few. Even the early history of the church has been practically\na sealed book to the English-speaking masses, whose ideas of her long\nyears of suffering, persecution, and final triumph have been of the\nmost indefinite and oftentimes erroneous character. We have to thank\nFather Formby for supplying this defect in our Catholic literature,\nand in future there can be no excuse for ignorance of at least the\norigin, labors, and progress of the religion we profess. In about one\nhundred and sixty pages, the half of his book, devoted to the\nChristian era, he presents to us very complete and exact, if not very\nelaborate, views of the leading events in the history of the church\nfor over eighteen centuries. In addition to this, he has appended to\nmany of the sections in the part occupied with the pre-Christian\nperiod short moral reflections, and institutes comparisons between the\nold and new order of things, which are not only edifying, but highly\ninstructive, particularly to young readers. For example, with\nreference to the days of the creation of the world, he remarks:           426\n\n     \u201cJesus Christ rested in the tomb from the work of redemption on\n     the Sabbath or seventh day, and arose again from the dead on the\n     first day of the week. For this reason, the Christians no longer\n     keep holy the original Sabbath, but the Lord\u2019s day, or first day\n     of the week, in memory of the resurrection of Jesus Christ.\u201d\n\nAnd again, after relating the dispersion of the builders of the Tower\nof Babel, he draws this beautiful comparison:\n\n     \u201cThe nations of the world suffered a great punishment upon their\n     pride in the confusion of their speech, and in their separation\n     one from another. Jesus Christ has in part removed this\n     punishment; for he has again made all the nations of the earth\n     one religious family in his church, under the supreme government\n     of the successor of St. Peter, and as partakers of one and the\n     same sacrifice at the altar.\u201d\n\nIn allusion to the well-known story of the sale of Joseph to the\nEgyptians by his brethren, he says:\n\n     \u201cJoseph, hated by his brethren on account of his love of virtue\n     and innocence, and sold by them for a slave into the land of\n     Egypt, is a striking figure of Jesus Christ hated by his own\n     people on account of his love of justice and sanctity, and\n     delivered up by them bound into the hands of the Roman governor,\n     Pontius Pilate.\u201d\n\nFather Formby\u2019s diction and treatment of his subject are varied and\nsuited to the epoch which he describes. In the early pages of his\nbook, he adopts the figurative orientalisms of the Hebrew writers, but\nfurther on he sobers down to the less florid and more matter-of-fact\nstyle of modern times. His descriptions of the crusades and the origin\nand growth of the religious orders are exceedingly graphic and\ncorrect, though of course merely outlines of what would fill books\nenough to make up an ordinary library if written in detail, and his\nsumming up of the so-called reformation is deserving of particular\nnotice.\n\n     \u201cThere is something worthy of being carefully observed as regards\n     the Protestantism which began in the sixteenth century to cause\n     whole nations and peoples to renounce the faith and discipline of\n     the Catholic Church. But as other great heresies, such as that of\n     Arius, have had a similar ruinous effect in causing a great\n     falling off from faith without the end of the world following in\n     their wake, Protestantism cannot simply for this reason by itself\n     be understood to be the sign to which St. Paul refers. What is\n     remarkable, however, in Protestantism is, that though Dr. Martin\n     Luther and the others who were leaders at the time formed sects,\n     the disciples of which called themselves by the names of\n     their masters--as Lutherans from Luther, Calvinists from\n     Calvin--Protestantism has long ago ceased to be the name of any\n     particular doctrine. Lutherans, Calvinists, Anabaptists,\n     Socinians, and all the different sects which arose at this time,\n     as regards what is meant by Protestantism, are just as good\n     Protestants the one as the other. They may, and do, dispute with\n     each other about what is to be held to be true as Christian\n     doctrine, but as regards Protestantism they are all quite agreed.\n     How come, then, those who are completely at war with each other\n     about Christian doctrine to agree completely about\n     \u2018Protestantism\u2019? The reason is, that Protestantism proper has but\n     one solitary doctrine and one solitary precept, viz., \u2018_Depart\n     from the Roman Church_.\u2019 All who satisfy this one precept entitle\n     themselves to the name of \u2018Protestant.\u2019 It is true that, up to\n     the present time, those who have protested against the Roman\n     Church have generally had the credit of deserving to be, in some\n     way or other, known as Christians; but this is rapidly ceasing to\n     be the case. \u2018Protestantism\u2019 has now come to be the name of the\n     confederacy of almost all without exception whose cry is, \u2018Depart\n     from the Roman Church,\u2019 so that there would seem to be no\n     rashness in recognizing it as the departure (_discessio_) which\n     St. Paul points to as the sign indicating the world to be drawing    427\n     to a close.\u201d\n\nIn addition to the merits and attractions of this valuable\ncontribution to contemporaneous Catholic literature, we observe that\nmost of the leading incidents recorded in sacred history are\nillustrated by wood-cuts very handsomely designed and executed, so\nthat the eye as well as the understanding is made familiar with the\nhistorical places, incidents, and characters sought to be portrayed,\nand the frontispiece is a large and excellently clear engraving of\nJerusalem. The growth of Catholic literature in England, where even in\nthe recollection of many of us Catholicity, confined to the humble\nminority, was banned and ostracized by author and reader alike, is one\nof the most healthful signs of the times, and it will be a great\ndereliction of duty on our part here in America if we do not profit by\nthe labors of our co-religionists abroad, hoping some day to\nreciprocate the favor.\n\n\n     [99] _The Pictorial Bible and Church History Stories,\n     Abridged._ By the Rev. Henry Formby. New York: The\n     Catholic Publication Society. 1871. 8vo, pp. 320.\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n                         NEW PUBLICATIONS.\n\n\n  ESSAYS CRITICAL AND HISTORICAL. By John Henry Newman, formerly Fellow\n    of Oriel College, Oxford. Vols. I. and II., 8vo. London: Basil\n    Montagu Pickering, 196 Piccadilly. 1871. New York: For sale by The\n    Catholic Publication Society, 9 Warren Street.\n\n\u201cThese essays, with the exception of the last, were written while\ntheir author was Fellow of Oriel, and a member of the Established\nChurch. They are now, after many years, republished, mainly for the\nfollowing reason: He cannot destroy what he has once put into print:\n\u2018Litera scripta manet.\u2019 He might suppress it for a time; but, sooner\nor later, his power over it will cease. And then, if it is, either in\nits matter or its drift, adapted to benefit the cause which it was\nintended to support when it was given to the world, it will be\nrepublished in spite of his later disavowal of it. In order to\nanticipate the chance of its being thus used after his death, the only\nway open to him is, while living, to show why it has ceased to approve\nitself to his own judgment.... This, accordingly, has been his attempt\nin the present edition of these essays, as far as they demand it of\nhim; and he is sanguine that he has been able to reduce what is\nuncatholic in them, whether in argument or in statement, to the\nposition of those \u2018difficultates\u2019 which figure in dogmatic treatises\nof theology, and which are elaborately drawn out, and set forth to\nbest advantage, in order that they may be the more carefully and\nsatisfactorily answered.\u201d--_Author\u2019s Preface._\n\nAnything from Dr. Newman\u2019s pen has a strong personal claim upon the\ninterest of Catholics. The volumes before us contain fifteen essays,\nwritten at different times between the years 1828 and 1846. The\nsubjects are mainly connected with the intellectual progress at that\ntime developing in the mind of the author. The volumes are necessary\nto a collection of his works, and also to a perfect acquaintance with\nclassic English literature.\n\n\n  THE FOURFOLD SOVEREIGNTY OF GOD. By Henry Edward, Archbishop of\n    Westminster. London: Burns, Oates & Co. For sale by The Catholic\n    Publication Society, New York.\n\nThe rapidity with which volume follows volume from the prolific pen of    428\nthe Archbishop of Westminster has often astonished our mind. From\nhints given in the preface to this last publication, we get, in part,\nan explanation. It appears that his Grace employs a skilful\nstenographer to take down and then copy for the press his\nextemporaneous lectures. In this way, one who has a mind stored with\nthe acquisitions of a lifetime, and is gifted so unusually with the\n_copia fundi_, can accomplish what could otherwise be done only\nby a man of more leisure than is enjoyed by the active prelate of the\nLondon diocese.\n\nThese four lectures make a pendant to the last four published, and\ncomplete the general view of the subject. They are like all the works\nof Archbishop Manning, of which our opinion has been so lately\nexpressed. We need, therefore, only to announce the publication of\nthese new lectures, and our readers will understand for themselves the\nvalue and interest they possess.\n\n\n  THE TRADITION OF THE SYRIAC CHURCH OF ANTIOCH, concerning the\n    Primacy and the Prerogatives of St. Peter, and of his successors,\n    the Roman Pontiffs. By the Most Rev. Cyril Behnam Benni, Syriac\n    Archbishop of Mossul (Nineveh). London: Burns, Oates & Co. 1871. For\n    sale by The Catholic Publication Society, 9 Warren Street.\n\nThis unique production symbolizes the contrariety and unity of the\nEast and West in a singular manner. It begins at both ends, and\nfinishes in the middle, where the appendices usually put at the end\nare snugly sandwiched between the Syriac original and the English\ntranslation. This translation has been made by the Rev. Joseph\nGagliardi, and is, of course, at that end of the volume which, to our\nOccidental habits of thought, appears to be the natural beginning. The\nSyriac begins at the opposite end, and thus both languages have their\nown way, and the book will answer equally well for the reader in\nNineveh and the one in London. The tradition of the Church of\nAntioch, where St. Peter established his first see, is scarcely\ninferior in interest and importance to that of the Roman Church. The\nlearned prelate has gathered together the best and most authentic\ntestimonies to the supremacy of the Roman See from documents both\nancient and modern, liturgies, official acts, and writings of prelates\nand learned men, both Catholic and schismatical. The references are\nmost carefully given, and the whole work is critical and scholarly. It\nis published in a very handsome and ornamental style, and cannot fail\nto interest the curious, the learned, and all who are engaged in\ntheological pursuits. The testimonies to the authority of the Holy See\nwhich it contains are very valuable, and as they are given in a clear\nEnglish translation, methodically arranged, and accompanied by full\nexplanations, they are intelligible to any person of ordinary\neducation. We cannot flatter ourselves that we have very many among\nour subscribers who will be able to appreciate the beauties of the\nSyriac original.\n\n\n  THE LIFE OF JESUS THE CHRIST. By Henry Ward Beecher. Illustrated.\n    New York: J. B. Ford & Co. 1871. Vol. I.\n\nThe publishers of this work have given it a very handsome exterior,\nand adorned it with a number of excellent illustrations of scenes and\nplaces in Palestine. The attempts at reproducing some of the most\ncelebrated representations of our Lord are, however, not successful.\nAs for the work itself, it is an effort to imitate the fascinating and\npopular style of Renan in such a way as to satisfy those Protestants\nwho call themselves Evangelical. That the author has the art of\npleasing the multitude cannot be questioned. That he is an artist in\nthe highest and truest sense we cannot admit. And, so far as more\nsolid qualities are concerned, he is not to be compared for a moment,\nin respect to that erudition which brings rabbinical and classical        429\ntreasures to enrich and illustrate the Evangelical narrative, with Dr.\nSepp, whose _Leben Jesu_ still remains both the most valuable and the\nmost interesting of all works of this class thus far produced, in\nspite of much that is fanciful and visionary.\n\nIf the doctrine of this book were sound, we should hail its\npublication with joy, even although we could not consider it to be a\nliterary masterpiece. Even if it contained only the errors common to\nProtestants; still, if it were sound on the great central truth of the\nIncarnation; one might think it likely to be useful in preserving\namong Protestants the true doctrine of the divinity and humanity of\nChrist contained in their formularies. As it is, we must condemn it as\nmore mischievous and absurd than the _Vie de J\u00e9sus_ of Renan. Of\ncourse, no Catholic who has any regard for his own principles will\never think of looking for religious instruction or edification in any\nbook proceeding from Mr. Beecher\u2019s pen. The evil which this shallow\nand utterly heretical production, coming forth in such a taking guise,\nwill cause will be among Protestants. One class of them--those who\nswallow its honey with pleasure--will take in a deadly poison of\nheresy. Another class, who will look at its doctrine coolly and\ncritically, will be strengthened in their tendency to rationalism and\nunbelief by its crude absurdity.\n\nMr. Beecher teaches a more gross and monstrous doctrine than that of\nArius, Nestorius, or Appolinaris. It is, namely, that God contracted\nand diminished his divine nature within the mental and physical limits\nof manhood. God became the human soul of a human body. This is the\nanthropomorphism of Swedenborg. It destroys all true conceptions both\nof the human and the divine nature of our Lord. Pantheism is better\nthan this. The reasoning and exegesis on which this revolting doctrine\nis based are not worthy of a moment\u2019s notice. All is mere superficial,\nrhetorical, sentimental talk, without a shred of philosophy or\ntheology. We shall look with some curiosity to see what judgment the\nEpiscopalian and Presbyterian divines of the stricter sort will\npronounce on this latest product of the pseudo-Evangelical school.\nWhat those of them who have some theological knowledge will think, we\nknow very well; but we are desirous of seeing whether they will\nexpress their thoughts in clear and emphatic language, and caution the\nProtestant public against a doctrine which subverts the Nicene Creed\nand the Presbyterian Confession of Faith, to say nothing of other\nformularies which are essentially the same with these.\n\nBehold a new proof of the utter insufficiency of the text of Scripture\nalone by itself even to preserve the orthodox doctrine after it has\nbeen fully presented to the mind! How much more, then, to give it at\nfirst hand! What the orthodox Protestants still retain of the faith is\nthe faith of creeds, councils, and tradition, and the exercise of\nprivate judgment on the text of Scripture is destroying it fast.\n\n\n  CINEAS; OR, ROME UNDER NERO. From the French of J. M. Villefranche.\n    1 vol. 12mo. Philadelphia: Peter F. Cunningham. 1871.\n\nIf we except _Fabiola_, _Callista_, and _Dion_, we feel no hesitation\nin saying that _Cineas_ is equal to any production of its kind yet\noffered to the English reader. In this tale, history and tradition are\ninterwoven with fiction, and the result is a graphic sketch of\nChristianity in the apostolic ages. The portico, the Pantheon, the\ntemple, and the catacomb are brought upon the stage, and made to\nrepresent their parts. The scene changes from the Circus Maximus to\nthe Mamertine, from Rome to Jerusalem, from Jerusalem to Athens; and\nat each change of scene the infant church appears clothed in new          430\nbeauty, in new holiness, in new strength. It is much to be desired\nthat Catholics of the present day should become acquainted with the\nreligious life of their brethren of the early church. No other study\nis so well calculated to enliven our faith, animate our hope, inflame\nour charity, and incite us to that heroic virtue so necessary to\nperseverance in the present age. _Cineas_ tends to promote this study,\nand as such we welcome it, commend it to the perusal of every\nCatholic, and thank the translator and publisher for the care with\nwhich they have performed their respective tasks.\n\n\n  THE LETTERS OF MADAME DE SEVIGNE TO HER DAUGHTER AND FRIENDS. Edited\n    by Mrs. Hale. Boston: Roberts Brothers. 1871.\n\n  THE LETTERS OF LADY MARY WORTLEY MONTAGU. Edited by Mrs. Hale.\n   Boston: Roberts Brothers. 1871.\n\nThese two books, simultaneously issued from the same press and edited\nby the same author, bear strong marks of similarity and contrast.\nEach, in its way, has long been looked upon as a model of epistolary\ncorrespondence in its appropriate language, and each is defaced by\nthat superficial, not to say anti-Christian, philosophy which\nprevailed among the \u201chigher classes\u201d in France and England during the\nlast and the preceding century. The French authoress, however, has\nsomewhat the advantage of her English sister, not only in the\npossession of a language especially adapted, by its grace and\nflexibility, to this species of composition, but from the fact that\nshe lived surrounded by a strong Catholic public opinion, which, with\nall her cynicism and fashionable scepticism, she could not wholly\ndisregard. We find, therefore, in many of her letters, particularly\nthose to her daughter, flashes of true, genuine moral sentiment, which\nare the more striking from contrast with the worldly tone which\ngenerally characterized her life and correspondence. Lady Montagu, on\nthe contrary, was brought up in that hard, unsympathetic school which\nwas inaugurated in England after the frenzy of the Reformation had\nsubsided, and with all her wit and womanly elegance we cannot look\nupon her otherwise than as an intellectual pagan. We may search from\ncover to cover of Mrs. Hale\u2019s edition of her correspondence in vain to\nfind one religious sentiment that would not have been as appropriate\nin the days of Horace or Zeno as in the eighteenth century of the\nChristian era. This is the more singular when we recollect that these\ngifted women, married to husbands far their inferiors mentally, and,\nas it appears, merely for the sake of conventionalism, by a not\nunnatural effort transferred the love women usually bear to the\npartners of their joys and sorrows to their offspring, and centred all\ntheir affections and hopes in their children. With our children we are\napt \u201cto assume a virtue if we have it not,\u201d yet still we find these\ntwo intellectual mothers writing to their daughters in strains which,\nif not positively immoral in the broad sense of that term, certainly\ncould not actively conduce to strengthen them against the temptations\nby which they were constantly surrounded, or to elevate their minds\nabove the glitter and hollowness of the society in which they were\nobliged to move. Both these distinguished writers were well-bred,\nthoroughly educated according to the idea of their times, and were the\nassociates of generals, statesmen, poets, and artists, and their\nfrequent and familiar reference to the then leading men of their\nrespective countries are not only interesting, but instructive, as\ngiving us a view of the interior life of many eminent personages\nhitherto known to us only by their public acts; but when we consider\nhow many unexceptionably good books this age of cheap printing has put    431\nwithin our reach, and the shortness of this busy life itself, we\ncannot recommend to our readers, particularly the younger portion, the\nperusal of either volume; nor do we see the necessity of a new edition\nof works which are merely ornamental, without having the merit of\nbeing innocuous.\n\n\n  A COLLECTION OF LEADING CASES ON THE LAW OF ELECTIONS IN THE UNITED\n    STATES. With Notes and References to the latest authorities. By\n    Frederick C. Brightly, author of \u201cThe Federal Digest,\u201d \u201cThe United\n    States Digest,\u201d etc. Philadelphia: Kay & Brother, 17 and 19 South\n    Sixth Street, Law Booksellers, Publishers, and Importers. 1871.\n\nMr. Brightly, who has done so much in his previous works to facilitate\nthe law-student and the lawyer in their studies and preparation of\ncases, by means of his admirable and learned digests and treatises,\nhas now acquired a new claim upon the gratitude of the student and\nprofessional man by his _Collection of Leading Cases on\nElections_. The author has been most happy in the selection of his\nsubject, for there are few branches of the law so important, in a free\nand representative government like ours, as the law of public\nelections.\n\nIn the early days of our Republic, when there was more conservatism\nthan at present, only the most important civil officers of the Federal\nand State governments were elective by the people, and the elective\nfranchise was not so universally participated in by the masses as at\nthe present time. Then the executive, elected by the people, was\nclothed with the appointing power, which he exercised with greater\ndeliberation, calmness, and discrimination than is possible to the\npeople amidst the excitements and intrigues of a popular election. He\nwas held responsible to the people for an honest, faithful, and\njudicious exercise of this high prerogative. But gradually the\nexecutive, elected by, and justly accountable to, his constituents,\nhas been stripped of this power, and the same has become vested in or\nbeen resumed by the people, who, while possessing, according to the\ntheory of the lawgivers of Ancient Greece, a greater amount of purity\nof intention, are swayed more by impulses and the passions of the\nhour. The legislative bodies then, as now, have always been elected by\nthe qualified voters. Then elections were comparatively few, and the\ncontests in the courts over executive, judicial, and ministerial\noffices, and in the legislatures over the contested seats of members,\nwere comparatively few.\n\nThe law in such cases was sought for entirely from the analogies of\nthe English common law cases and the parliamentary precedents and\ndecisions. Now, while the Federal offices remain mostly as they were\nunder our first Presidents and Congresses, in the States almost every\noffice, from governor and judges of the highest courts down to\nmagistrates and constables, has become elective by the people, and the\nStates, with whom, under the Constitution, rests the power of\nregulating the qualifications for the exercise of the elective\nfranchise, have generally removed all qualifications thereon, and\nconferred universal suffrage, as it is called, upon the people.\n\nThere is scarcely a function of government, from the most vital and\nmomentous to the most trifling, that is not discharged in our regard\nby elected officers; our lives, our liberties, our property, our\ncastles, and our reputations are confided to the protection or\nneglect, if not abuse, of officers elected for short terms; so that\nevery interest of life and of society is thus governed, controlled,\nand administered indirectly by the voting masses.\n\nWe will give a single illustration of this: If we take thirty-three\nand a third years as the average span of human life, it may be said\nthat in every thirty-three and a third years [the time has been           432\nestimated as much shorter in regard to what we are going to state],\nthe entire property of the country, its countless millions, are\nadministered or acted upon by a single officer, the Judge of the\nProbate Court, or other officer of the law, elected by the people, and\nthus incidentally by the masses themselves. Thus the various\nelections, which we so heedlessly disregard or pass by, are, in fact,\nthe casts of the die that determine the fate of the nation, its\nprosperity, happiness, and honor. The importance, therefore, of the\nlaw regulating these elections in their varied relations may be\nestimated from this fact.\n\nThat numerous questions and contests should have arisen in a country\nwhere so many offices are to be filled, and where elections are so\nfrequent, is not strange, and that the decisions of our own courts\nupon these litigated cases should have become numerous and controlling\nis a natural result. The law of elections has been greatly developed\nand expounded in this country in recent years. The leading cases\nbearing upon these subjects have been skilfully and carefully collated\nby Mr. Brightly, illustrated by his own notes and references, and\npresented to the legal profession and the public in the volume before\nus. He could not have selected a theme of greater interest or\nimportance to our country, especially at this time, than the law of\nelections. He has handled it with the same accuracy, learning, and\nindustry which have always characterized his works, and elevated his\nreputation as a jurist and author. The present work carries with it an\ninterest far more general than professional works usually possess, and\nmay be read with improvement and pleasure by all who are fond of a\ngood and readable book, who seek for useful knowledge on a matter of\nvast public import, or who take an interest in the purity of\nelections, and in the general morals and welfare of the commonwealth.\nWe commend it to their perusal.\n\n\nThe title of Father Doane\u2019s new book is to be _To and from the\nPassion Play in the Summer of 1871_. It will soon be published by\nMr. Donahoe, Boston.\n\nMR. P. O\u2019SHEA announces as in press, and to be published by\nsubscription, _The Lives of Deceased Bishops of the Catholic Church\nin the United States_, by Mr. Richard H. Clark, A. M. The work will\nbe published in two large octavo volumes, and will be ready about the\nfirst of December. These volumes will contain the biographies of all\nthe deceased members of the American Catholic Hierarchy, from the\nearliest dawn of Christianity on this continent to the present day,\nand will trace the history of the church through the important\nepiscopate of Archbishop Carroll, and chronicle with graphic effect\nthe labors, sacrifices, and achievements of over fifty bishops who\nhave been called to their reward.\n\nThe Catholic Publication Society will soon publish a new edition of\nFather Young\u2019s _Office of Vespers_, greatly enlarged and improved.\n\nThe volume of _Sermons of the Paulist Fathers for 1870_ will be ready\nfor delivery on the 25th of November.\n\n\n\n\n                                THE                                       433\n\n                          CATHOLIC WORLD.\n\n                 VOL. XIV., No. 82.--JANUARY, 1872.\n\n     Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1871, by\n   REV. I. T. HECKER, in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at\n                         Washington, D. C.\n\n\n\n\n                  WHO IS TO EDUCATE OUR CHILDREN?\n\n\nEvery day that passes over our heads and witnesses the rapid increase\nof the population of the country adds to the interest which attaches\nto the reciprocal rights and duties existing between the state and the\ncitizen, as far as the question of the proper education of our\nchildren is concerned. It has become a matter of the most vital\nimportance, superior to mere party consideration in the success of\nthis or that faction of politicians; for in the proper appreciation of\nits magnitude and in its judicious and permanent settlement may be\nsaid to lie not only the future welfare of this republic, but the\nsupremacy of Christianity itself on this broad continent. The history\nof the church from its very foundation is full of instances of the\ndecay of religion and morality in one country simultaneously with\ntheir growth or revival in another. It was thus that the faith, grown\nweak in the farther East, found so many earnest professors in Italy,\nand when Gaul and the Spanish peninsula succumbed to their pagan\nconquerors, the light of the Gospel was transferred to the islands of\nBritain and Ireland, and brightened into an effulgence which, in a few\ncenturies, penetrated the darkest recesses of the then semi-barbarized\ncontinent. In Europe to-day, the church, assailed on one side by\nC\u00e6sarism and on the other by the secret societies, can hardly hold her\nown, notwithstanding the justice of her cause and the zeal and\nlearning of her champions; and it would seem to be one of the\nmysterious designs of Providence that the theatre of her triumphs and\nconquests is, for a time at least, to be transferred to the fresher\nand more vigorous New World. The astonishing growth of Catholicity in\nAmerica in our own day is an evidence of this, but our present\nvictories will be barren of any good results if we neglect the proper\neducation of our children, who, as we gradually pass away, are\ndestined to take our places for good or evil.\n\nThe time has come when the question, Who is to educate our children?\nshould be definitively answered. Pulpits, forums, and the press, in       434\ntheir respective spheres, have discussed the matter from almost every\nstand-point, and some of the ablest thinkers, particularly in the\nEastern States, have devoted their time and erudition to the\nelimination of order out of the chaos of crude and transcendental\nopinions which of late have filled the pamphlets and books of so many\nwriters in Europe and America on the subject of education. Theories\ninnumerable have been advanced, and historical precedents quoted in\nfavor of particular systems, without much approach to unanimity, and\nstill the problem remains as ever unsolved.\n\nAmongst other expressions of opinion on this all-important subject, we\nhave before us a long and very elaborate essay in the _Congregational\nQuarterly_ of Boston, strongly in favor of the continuance of the\npublic-school system as received in that classical city, and as\nearnestly endeavoring to demonstrate that, unless the Bible, \u201cwithout\nnote or comment,\u201d prayers, hymns, and piety, be taught in the state\nschools in conformity to the statute of 1826, these institutions will\nbecome worse than useless, and should be discountenanced. In the\nlanguage of the writer: \u201cThe school system which requires the ethics\ncan receive them only as indissolubly one with the religion, and the\nstate that cannot sustain a statute like the Massachusetts law of\n1826, which requires the principles of piety as well as those of\nmorality to be taught, cannot sustain a common school system.\u201d\n\nAs a counterpoise to our New England contemporary, we find in the last\nnumber of the _American Educational Monthly_, a magazine published in\nthis city, as stout a defence of secular education, while exhibiting a\ndecided preference for the removal from our public schools of the\nBible and the discontinuance of all teaching of a religious character.\nIts arguments on these points, if less subtle, are more practical than\nthose of the _Congregational_, and some of the facts it adduces in\nsupport of its views are thus plainly stated:\n\n     \u201cIt is well to repeat here what was said in the beginning: that\n     knowledge is not virtue itself, but only the handmaid of virtue.\n     This is the lesson of Connecticut statistics--a state having a\n     first-class university as well as the usual network of common\n     schools: in every nine and seven-tenths marriages there is sure\n     to be one divorce. Ohio, which has no university comparable to\n     Yale, and whose common schools are presumably no better than\n     Connecticut\u2019s, has but one divorce in twenty-four marriages in a\n     much larger population. There are graduates of common schools who\n     make it their business to procure divorces by observing\n     prescribed forms, yet without the knowledge of one or other of\n     the parties--contrary to the spirit of the law.\u201d\n\nFrom the contemplation of these and other results of our common\nschools, in which piety and morality are supposed to be taught, the\nwriter in the _Monthly_ concludes that it is better for us to \u201cleave\ndevotional instruction to those whose business it is--to parents and\nclergymen.\u201d\n\nAnother writer, the editor of one of the most widely circulated of our\nsectarian weekly newspapers, also a decided advocate of the public\nschool system as at present existing, puts forward among others the\nfollowing novel argument for its perpetuity:\n\n     \u201cWe hold, therefore, that it is unnecessary and unwise to\n     disperse or redistribute our common school pupils in accordance\n     with the dogmatic or ecclesiastical leanings of their parents\n     respectively--that the inconvenience and cost of so doing would\n     immensely overbalance its benefits. We should need far more\n     schools; yet our children would have to travel much further to\n     reach one of the preferred theological stripe than at present.\n     We do not decide that soundness of faith is of little                435\n     consequence--far from it; we only insist that provision is\n     already made for theological instruction apart from our common\n     schools, and that there is no need of making such provision\n     within them. The Roman Catholic and the Protestant coincide with\n     respect to spelling and grammar; the Trinitarian and the\n     Unitarian are in perfect accord as to mathematics, at least in\n     their application to all mundane affairs. Then, why not allow\n     them to read and cipher from the same text-books on week-days,\n     and learn theology in their respective churches and\n     Sunday-schools on the Lord\u2019s day? This seems to us the dictate of\n     economy, convenience, and good sense.\u201d\n\nNearly every week similar effusions appear in the columns of the\nso-called religious press, in which are enunciated opinions and\nspeculations as absurd as the above, and yet as varied as the clashing\nsects they profess to represent. On one point alone, and that a very\nsuspicious one, are they agreed--in a general determination to reduce\nthe children of the Catholics of this country under the sway of a\nsystem of public instruction which parents can neither encourage nor\ncountenance. On the minor features of this system, with their usual\nwant of unity, they widely dissent one from the other.\n\nNow, whence this confusion of ideas about one of the plainest and most\nvital requirements of a free Christian people--education? Does it not\nlie in the utter misapprehension of what education really is? In pagan\ntimes, education was supposed to be the accumulation of knowledge for\nits own sake or for the superiority it conferred on its possessor over\nhis less instructed fellows. It was of the earth, earthy. From a\nChristian point of view, its aim, primarily and principally, is to\nfacilitate, by proper training and instruction, the attainment of our\ntrue happiness--the knowledge and observance of the laws of God here\nand eternal happiness hereafter. To the pagan, this world was\neverything, and consequently he utilized his knowledge for worldly\nadvantage alone. For the Christian, education is merely a means to a\ngreat end, and, as eternal bliss is infinitely greater than any\ntemporal enjoyment to him, the training of the soul, the immortal\npart, in the ways of religion is of paramount and incomparable\nimportance. Secular education, when properly applied, should not be\nundervalued, inasmuch as we have duties in this life to be performed,\nto ourselves, our country, and our fellow-man; but it should be\ntempered and permeated, so to speak, with religious instruction, so\nthat the learner, as his mental faculties expand with his years, may\nbe gradually but constantly led to the knowledge of those divine\ntruths which the church teaches her children, and his character thus\nbe insensibly formed on a true Christian basis. If we admit, as every\nprofessing Christian is bound to do, that man\u2019s chiefest object in\nlife is the salvation of his soul, if \u201cthe knowledge of God is the\nbeginning of wisdom,\u201d it is the merest folly to suppose that this\nknowledge, so all-important in itself, can properly be imparted to our\nchildren after ordinary school-hours, when the young mind is fatigued\nand needs repose or recreation, or on one day out of seven, when so\nmany distractions occur to call off the attention of most children.\nThis would be to make religion distasteful, if not odious, to our boys\nand girls, and lead them to dread the recurrence of a day which, to\nthem at least, should be one of gladness and innocent enjoyment. We do\nnot underrate the value of parental advice and example, or ignore the\nbenefits conferred on our rising population by pastoral instructions\nand Sunday-school training, but we assert the day-schools should also     436\ntake their part in supplying food to the ever-expanding and\nquestion-asking minds of the American youth.\n\nThe formation of character, one of the great objects of education,\nshould be conducted on principles somewhat similar to those of\ndomestic economy. We do not eat all the sweets at one time and the\nsours at another, the solids at one meal and the dessert at the next,\nbut by a judicious admixture of both produce a savory and salutary\ncombination which gives health and strength to the body. It may be\nsaid that mere secular education--such as geology, geometry, history,\nnatural philosophy, botany, astronomy, etc., as taught in our common\nschools--presents no opportunity for moral instruction. Nothing can be\nmore fallacious. That great master of dramatic literature,\nShakespeare, whose knowledge of the springs of human action has seldom\nbeen equalled, has told us that we can find books in running brooks,\nsermons in stones, and good in everything. Properly directed, the\nanatomy of the smallest insect, equally with the contemplation of the\nvast firmament with its countless planets and stars, may become a\nsilent and involuntary prayer to the Creator of all things. There is\nnot a force, physical or deduced, that is revealed to the mind of\nyouth that ought not to be made to bear with it some conception of the\nunseen Power that presides over and governs the universe, and the\nteacher who neglects to place before the minds of his pupils the moral\nto be drawn from those symbols of the Creator\u2019s almightiness does but\nhalf his work, and that the less nobler part. Leaving dogma and\ndoctrine aside, are the generality of our public school teachers\ncapable or disposed to thus draw from nature the beautiful lessons of\nGod\u2019s wisdom and power--lessons which no book can adequately teach,\nbut which should be before one\u2019s eyes from infancy to the grave?\n\nSome persons speak of religion in connection with the education of\nyouth as if it were a mere matter of sentiment or a holiday pastime,\nto be occasionally indulged in when the more serious duties of\nmoney-making and political advancement have been complied with. On the\ncontrary, it is a matter of everyday life, controlling and guiding our\nintercourse with mankind individually as well as collectively, and as\nwe are responsible for our actions every conscious moment of our life,\nso should it in one form or another be associated with our every\npursuit and act. If this be true among full-grown men and women, is it\nnot apparent that any system of youthful training that would\ndissociate religion from secular studies in early life would send into\nthe world vicious or ignorant adults, who would either ignore\naltogether the practice of honesty, truthfulness, and morality, or who\nin their ignorance would make these great attributes of Christianity\nsubserve their worldly interests and passions? Education, therefore,\nthat would exclude religious instruction from our children during\ntheir hours of study, which is half of their young lives, is not\neducation at all, at least in the Christian sense of the word. It may\nmake them expert financiers or glib politicians, but it cannot make\nthem upright, truthful, and benevolent citizens. In this regard, we\nagree with the writer in the _Congregational_ when he says, \u201cWe call\nattention in the outset to the immense difficulty, if it be not the\nabsolute impossibility, of separating religious instruction from any\npractical system of public education.\u201d\n\nBut we do not coincide with him in his estimate of the right and duty     437\nof the state to provide this education. Granted that religion is an\nessential element in education, who is the proper authority to\ninculcate it? Clearly not the state, for, in our theory of government,\nthe state knows no religion, nor under any pretence can it lay claim\nto any apostolic authority to preach and teach the Gospel to the\nnations. That is a power far anterior to and above all existing\ngovernments. That the state is or ought to be religious in the\ncharacter of its acts cannot be denied, but this character should be\nderived from the teachings of the church to its individual members,\nand gives it no power to prescribe to the church what she should teach\nor allow to be taught, for the authority of the teaching church is\nfrom God, and that of the state from man. It is true that the common\nlaw framed by our Catholic ancestors recognized the laws of the\nchurch, as far as public morality and the observance of Sundays and\nholidays were concerned, as part of the law of the land, but it was\nnever intended that the state should be placed above the church in\nmatters spiritual, much less to make it the teacher and expounder of\nher doctrines. This innovation was one of the fruits of the\n\u201cReformation,\u201d which, while professing to liberate the minds of men\nfrom spiritual thraldom and the authority of the popes, actually\nsubjected their consciences and forms of faith to the whim of\nparliaments and the arbitrary _dicta_ of local lay tyrants. Even to\nthis day, the House of Lords in England, composed as it is mostly of\nlaymen, and those, too, not remarkable for their piety or morality, is\nthe court of last resort to determine and decide what are and what are\nnot the doctrines taught by our Holy Redeemer.\n\nIf the state claim the right to educate our children, that right cannot\nbe derived from the natural law; for the state, being an artificial\norganization, cannot in its corporate capacity have any natural law.\nOn the contrary, the natural law bestows the possession, care, and\ncustody of the child on the parent, and the duty thus imposed cannot\nbe relinquished or delegated without a manifest infraction of the\nfirst principles of that law. Besides, the state is only constituted\nto do for the citizen what he, from his want of ability, means, or\nstrength, cannot do for himself. Its office is simply the\nadministration of justice, retributive and distributive, and the\nenactment of laws to facilitate that object. All outside of that is\nsimply usurpation, which may, and generally does, degenerate into\ntyranny. Whenever a state invades private reserved rights and\noversteps the bounds of its legitimate duties, law and justice are not\nonly brought into contempt, but enactments in themselves abstractly\njust are despised and evaded. The futile attempts to enforce certain\nsumptuary laws in this and other countries prove this conclusively.\n\nNor does the state derive its power to educate our children as it sees\nfit from the will of the people as expressed in the fundamental laws\nof the land. In the Declaration of Independence, it is clearly stated\nthat among the _inalienable_ rights of mankind are life, liberty, and\nthe pursuit of _happiness_. Now, who that has been blessed with\nchildren does not know that the care and custody, education and\nmaintenance, of his offspring constitute the greatest happiness of his\nlife, compared with which riches, honors, and fame dwindle into\ninsignificance? One of the most powerful arguments against Southern\nslavery, now happily for ever abolished, was that it separated the\nchild from its parent: but what is the value of freedom to me if, as      438\nthe _Congregational_ suggests, I must see my child forced into a\ncommon school, to listen to the reading of a Bible which I believe, at\nbest, to be a mutilated and perverted copy of the Holy Scriptures, and\nbe obliged to repeat prayers and hymns that too often, alas! are but\nblasphemies against the holy name of him who died on the cross for\nman\u2019s redemption? In one case the body alone suffered, in the other\nthe eternal salvation of immortal souls is imperilled. Even the\nframers of the constitution, that noble document about which so much\nis said and so little understood, having surveyed their work, and\nfinding it defective in respect to providing guarantees for the\nperfect freedom of religion, hastened by an amendment to supply the\ndeficiency. \u201cCongress,\u201d they ordained, \u201cshall make no law respecting\nthe establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise\nthereof,\u201d[100] and our own state, on November 3, 1846, by its\nconstitution, emphatically declares that \u201cthe free exercise\nand enjoyment of religious profession and worship, without\n_discrimination or preference_, shall for ever be allowed in this\nstate to all mankind.\u201d (Art. I. sec. 3.)\n\nDoes the state derive its authority to teach religion to our children\nfrom God? If so, where is its authority? The writer in the\n_Congregational_ evidently considers the Bible an authority on\nmatters of faith and discipline. Yet we fail to find in the inspired\nwritings any authority for the state of Massachusetts, or any other\npurely political corporation, to teach the doctrines of Christ. But,\nif the state have a right so to teach, it has a right also to decide\nwhat shall be taught, and this, of course, must depend on the character\nof the officials through whom the state for the time being acts; for\nas yet, unlike other and more favored Protestant countries, we have no\nfixed state religion, and must depend on the popular electoral vote\nfor our faith and ideas of morality. We would like the advocates of\nreligious teaching in schools, \u201cthe Bible, prayers, hymns, and piety,\u201d\nto be more explicit on this point. Are our children to be taught\nreligion according to the parliamentary doctrine of the Church of\nEngland, or the total depravity notions of the followers of Calvin;\nare they to be obliged to deny the divinity of Christ with the\nUnitarians, and eternal punishments with the Universalists? Are we, in\nfact, bringing children into the world to be liable any day to be\nindoctrinated into the vagaries of Methodism, Congregationalism,\nPresbyterianism, Muggletonianism, Mormonism, or any other of the\nthousand \u201cisms\u201d born of that fruitful mother of dissent, the much\nvaunted Reformation? Or are we to have them treated to a dose of each\nand every one in turn as the political wheel brings their professors\nto the surface? The idea seems perfectly absurd, and yet it is the\nlogical consequence of the _Congergational\u2019s_ position that the state\ncan teach religion in its schools; for the state, being liable to be\ncontrolled at any time by any of the believers in the \u201cisms,\u201d must of\nnecessity teach its own ism, and, having the sovereign authority, who\ncan dispute its choice? But, says the writer in the _Congregational_,\nand those who agree with him, we do not violate the rights of\nconscience, we only advocate the reading of the Bible, \u201cin which the\nPapist does not believe,\u201d[101] prayers, hymns, and piety. Now, in         439\nwhat does the religion of the Congregationalists consist, if not in\nthese very matters which they would insidiously intrude on the\nattention of our children? Does any one believe, if the writer in\nquestion, or those who believe in his sentiments, had the control of\nour schools, that the prayers and hymns would be such as a Catholic\nchild could conscientiously listen to? Would the Apostles\u2019 Creed and\nthe _Confiteor_ be among the forms, or would the _Stabat Mater, Ave\nMaria Stella_, in Latin or English, or any other of the beautiful\nappeals to the clemency and protection of the Blessed Mother which the\nchurch puts into the mouths and hearts of her little ones, find a\nplace in schools presided over by the advocates of religion and piety,\nas prescribed by the law of 1826? And yet, we venture to say that more\nthan one-half of the children who attend the public schools in the\nvery city in which this _Quarterly_ is published are Catholics, and\nborn of Catholic parents. Yet we are told that not only the morals,\nbut the religion of our children is to be at the mercy of politicians,\ncalling themselves the state, too often elevated to power by most\ncorrupt intrigues. Is there anything particularly virtuous in the\ncharacter of our legislators or the members of our board of education\nthat would induce us to suppose that they were specially selected by\nProvidence to teach his laws and expound his doctrines? And still, for\nall practical purposes, they are the state. They enact the laws,\nselect the schoolbooks, appoint the teachers, and prescribe the course\nof study to be pursued. If their appointees leave out the Bible,\nprayers, hymns, etc., the schools become, in the language of the\n_Congregational_, the instruments of \u201csweeping away the political\nProtestantism of the land,\u201d while, if they do enforce the observance\nof these religious exercises, we have a new set of apostles annually\nor biennially elected by political coteries to teach our children!\n\nThe three great sources of authority which all writers on the\nphilosophy of government ascribe to the state are, then, wanting, to\njustify these assumptions of the advocates of the right of the state\nto teach religion to the children of its citizens, but the\n_Congregational_ still argues that it has a right to teach\n\u201cmorality and piety.\u201d How are morality and piety to be taught without\nreligion? What is its idea of morals abstracted from practical\nreligion? Does the writer who adorns its columns believe that the end\nand aim of all true education is to promote man\u2019s true happiness, and,\nif so, does he believe in a hereafter of eternal rewards and\npunishments, and how we are to earn the one and avoid the other? He\nknows as well as we do that, of some dozen leading Protestant sects in\nthis country, not two are agreed on the essential Christian duty and\nfaith of man necessary for his salvation. Who, then, is to decide but\nthe state, which, as we have endeavored to prove, has neither a divine\nmission nor even human consent to interfere in spiritual matters? It\nmay be said that the state does not decide these questions, but it\ndoes. Every hour devoted to a child\u2019s instruction, relatively at\nleast, involves the question of man\u2019s true destiny; for the religious\nquestion, which is the question of man\u2019s true destiny, sums up all\nother questions. As far as Catholics are concerned, they object to\neach and all such teachers, whether appointed by the warring sects or\nby the temporal authority. For example, the writer in the\n_Congregational_, though evidently an intelligent and accomplished        440\ngentleman, would not be a very safe teacher in a school composed in\nwhole or in part of Catholic children. Any person who could endorse as\nhe does Draper\u2019s absurd assertion that the _Imitation of Christ_ was\nthe forerunner of the Reformation, call the illustrious F\u00e9nelon a\nJansenist, style millions of his fellow-citizens by the cant epithets\nof \u201cRomanists\u201d and \u201cPapists,\u201d and coolly declare that Catholics do not\nbelieve in the Bible, is evidently unfitted to form a correct opinion\non any religious subject, much less to be entrusted with the\ninstruction of youth.\n\n\u201cBut,\u201d says the writer above quoted, \u201cthe safety of democracy requires\ncompulsory education. The work cannot be entrusted to churches, or to\ncorporations, or to individuals.\u201d Now, this may mean very little or a\nvery great deal. If it mean, as he hints in another part of his\narticle, that the state has an absolute right to teach a particular\nreligion or any religion at all in its public schools, and enforce\nattendance therein, for the preservation of our democratic form of\ngovernment, we entirely dissent from his proposition. The very essence\nof a free government lies in its recognition of religious liberty and\nthe natural rights of individuals, and our best guarantees of freedom\nrest on the fact that majorities, which for the time being represent\nthe power of the state, all potent as they may be, cannot set aside\nthe fundamental law, and dare not infringe on the civil or religious\nliberty of the citizen. No state could or ought to attempt an exercise\nof power so utterly despotic and foreign to the genius of our\ninstitutions.\n\nWe are aware that of late it has been customary to denominate our form\nof education as the American system, for the purpose, doubtless, of\nexciting public prejudice in its favor. The system is not by any means\nAmerican in the national sense. It is purely local, and of Puritanical\norigin and growth. When the New England colonies by persecution and\nviolence secured for themselves uniformity of worship, such as it was,\nthey established schools, in which prayers, hymns, and piety were\ntaught _ad libitum_, with all the raw-head-and-bloody-bones\nanti-Catholic fiction which the descendants of the Pilgrims mistook\nfor veritable history. Being all of one mind, such a system of\ntraining could have no perceptible evil effect on the pupils; for, if\nthey did not hear intolerance and falsehood in the school, they were\npretty certain to hear them in the meeting-house. But times have\nstrangely altered since then, as the writer in the _Congregational_ is\nforced to admit. \u201cThe reason our school system had to be modified,\u201d he\nsays, \u201cwas not that it was _per se_ right from the day it was enacted,\nbut because the foreign immigration and the changes of time had\nproduced an immense revolution in the religious spirit of the people,\nand required the readjustment of the civil creed in the school\nsystem.\u201d In no sense, then, can this system of public education which\nis sought to be thrust upon us be called American, except, perhaps, as\ncontradistinguished from that of England, France, Germany, Austria,\nand other so-called despotic countries, in all of which the\ndenominational plan, more or less generally, prevails. In the latter\ntwo countries particularly, one Catholic and the other Protestant, the\nscheme of secular education has been tried and abandoned, and the\nwisdom of the new system has been proved beyond peradventure. If it be\nAmerican to tax citizens for the support of schools and compel them to\nsend their children to be called Romanists and idolaters, then is the     441\npublic-school system entitled to that distinctive appellation? We do\nnot think that it is.\n\nThe state having no authority by the natural or divine law to assume\ncontrol of the education of our children, by what other right can it\nclaim it? Some may say, from political necessity, that the state, in\norder to protect its own interests, must see to it that a certain\namount of intelligence is diffused among its supporters. Here the\nwhole question comes up again. What is that intelligence which is\nnecessary to the preservation and well-being of our free institutions?\nIs it a certain knowledge of mathematics, geography, and the physical\nsciences, or is it not probity, morality, and lawful obedience to the\nconstituted authorities? Yet these are virtues that can only be taught\nthrough religion, and the state, having no religion, cannot teach\nthem. Is it not for the general interests that we should have\nstalwart, healthy, well-fed, and sober citizens? And yet the state\ndoes not profess to enforce a general plan whereby every one should be\nprovided with proper exercise, employment, medicine, food, clothing,\nand shelter. To do so would simply be to attempt to realize the\nutopian dream of the socialists; and still it would be no greater a\nusurpation of power than the design of furnishing our children with a\ngeneral system of instruction, and, indirectly, with a uniform\nreligion. If the state, as it ought to do, requires a certain amount\nof intelligence in its citizens, let it make the presence or absence\nof that knowledge the test of citizenship and the passport to places\nof honor and public confidence. The right to vote and hold office, for\nexample, is not an inherent right, but depends on many qualifications,\nsuch as sex, age, nationality, freedom from crime, ability to support\none\u2019s self, and previous residence. Why not add ability to read and\nwrite intelligibly?\n\nThere are cases, however, in which we admit that the state has not\nonly a right, but is in duty bound, to interfere with the disposition\nand education of children. When parents, either through poverty,\nmisfortune, crime, or any other cause, are unable or unwilling to take\nproper charge of their children, the state, for its own protection and\nto save the community from the consequence of vice and idleness, is\njustified in taking care of them, for this does not violate the\nprinciple of civil polity that a state is constituted to do only for\nthe citizen what he is unable to do for himself. Hence, the\nestablishment of almshouses, asylums, nurseries, reformatories, and\nother benevolent institutions, which all wise governments provide as\nbarriers against prospective crime and distress. But even in those\nexceptional cases, as much care as possible should be observed in\nfollowing out the spirit of our free institutions, which are so\nstrongly opposed to any interference in matters of conscience, even\namong the most humble and unfortunate.\n\nBut while we are combating the arguments of our Boston contemporary in\nfavor of compulsory education, it may be said that no compulsion is\nused or intended to be used in this or many other states in the Union.\nThis is a mistake; there is compulsion of the most practical kind. It\nis true that the officer of the law does not come into our homes and\nforcibly drag our children to school, but the tax-gatherer does so,\nalmost as efficiently, if more silently. The masses of the people in\nthis, as in most other countries, are poor. With the American\nCatholics this is peculiarly so. They are taxed to support the public     442\nschools, and must either send their children there or pay for their\neducation elsewhere. This double payment, in most instances, they\ncannot afford. How many tens of thousands of parents are there not\namong us whose scanty means will not permit them to indulge in the\nluxury of seeing their children instructed in the ways of true\nreligion, and who are consequently compelled, if they desire even a\nprimary education for their offspring, to send them to schools which\nthey neither admire nor would select if they had a free choice!\n\nWe are accused of being hostile to the Bible. Such is not the fact,\nand those who make the assertion are well aware of its falsity. The\nBible has always been an object of especial care and veneration in the\nCatholic Church. It is one of the sources of her authority and the\nmuniments of her holy mission. What we object to is the profanation of\nits sacred character by unworthy and profane hands. It has repeatedly\npained us to see even \u201cKing James\u2019s Version,\u201d imperfect as it is,\nscattered broadcast by the agents of the Bible societies in hotel and\nsteamboat saloons, barbers\u2019 shops, and bar-rooms, not to be read, but\nto be devoted to the meanest purposes of waste paper. The treatment of\nthe holy book in some of our public schools is little better. If any\nperson doubts that Catholics venerate and read the Bible, let him go\nto our large Catholic publishing-houses and see the numerous and\nsplendid editions of the Old and New Testaments which are constantly\nbeing issued from their presses.\n\nThough on principle we decidedly object to the reading of the Bible in\nour public schools, our greatest objection is to the schools\nthemselves. We hold that the education that does not primarily include\nthe religious element is worse than no education at all, and, we\nhold, also, that the state has no right to prescribe what form of\nfaith, doctrine, or religious practice should be taught to the\nchildren of its citizens. We claim that Catholic parents have a right\nto demand that their children shall be educated by Catholic teachers,\nbe instructed from Catholic books, and at all times, particularly\nduring hours of study, be surrounded as much as possible with all the\ninfluence that the church, into whose bosom they have been admitted by\nbaptism, can surround them. This can never be done in our public\nschools. However high the personal character of the teachers in those\ninstitutions, and whatever may be the peculiar merits of their\ndiscipline and success in turning out smart accountants and\nsuperficial thinkers, we maintain that, in the formation of character\nand the cultivation of the spiritual and better part of our nature,\nthey have been and must necessarily be failures. What parent can read\nwithout a shudder the following extract from a Boston paper regarding\nthe recent investigation of a _savant_ who, it is well known, is no\nfriend to Catholicity or the teachings of the church:\n\n     \u201cProfessor Agassiz has of late given a portion of his valuable\n     time to an investigation of the social evil, its causes and\n     growth, and the result has filled him with dismay, and almost\n     destroyed his faith in the boasted civilization of the nineteenth\n     century. He has visited and noted down the houses of ill-fame\n     throughout the city of Boston, and has drawn from the unfortunate\n     inmates many sad life stories. _To his utter surprise, a large\n     number of the unfortunate women and girls traced their fall to\n     influences which surrounded them in the public schools._\u201d[102]\n\nIt has been already stated, on the authority of the _Educational\nMonthly_, that in the State of Connecticut, the paradise of public        443\nschools and nursery of public-school teachers, there is one divorce\nannually to every nine marriages, and now we have the unbiassed\ntestimony of Agassiz, after mature examination of the malign influence\nof state schools in the sister state. Is there any reason to doubt\nthat this sad state of morals exists in other cities, and may be\ntraced to the same source, and, if so, is it not time that our public\nsystem of instruction, at least for females, should be discontinued?\n\nBut even in a material point of view our common schools have been far\nfrom a success. In the efforts, conscientious we must believe, to\neliminate sectarianism from the school-books, the Board of Education\nand Trustees of our cities have almost destroyed their usefulness for\nany purpose. The primary rules of reading, writing, and arithmetic,\nand the elements of pure mathematics, can be taught with impunity,\nbut, when the higher branches of study are reached, the religious\nquestion again comes up. Take geology, for example, that most\ninteresting science, the abuse of which has led to more atheism than\nall the sophistries of Voltaire or Volney. As at present taught in our\nschools, without explanation or qualification, it cannot help being\ndetrimental to the faith, and consequently to the morals, of the\ncurious and undisciplined minds of the scholars. As to history, it is\nimpossible, even with the most careful revision, to reproduce it\nwithout constant reference to disputed events and characters,\nregarding which Protestants and Catholics can never agree. Can we\nimagine a history of modern Europe, with the great facts of the\ncivilization of the Old World by the church, the establishment of the\ntemporal power of the Popes, the \u201cTruce of God\u201d and the Crusades\nin the middle ages, the great rebellion against spiritual\nauthority--miscalled the Reformation--the penal persecution of the\nIrish Catholics, and the French Revolution left out? At best, such a\nbook would be a sorry compilation of dates and miscalled facts, and\nyet to describe those great epochs in European history with any degree\nof accuracy would necessarily offend the opinions or prejudices of\neither Protestants or Catholics. If history be \u201cphilosophy teaching by\nexample,\u201d we must look for it somewhere else than in our public\nschools.\n\nBut, because we are opposed to the existence of common schools, are we\ntherefore against popular education? On the contrary, the efforts of\nthe humbler class of Catholics throughout the country to secure\neducation for their children independent of state interference are\nalmost incredible.\n\nIn this city alone twenty thousand children are annually taught in the\nfree schools attached to the various churches, at an expense of a\nlittle over one hundred thousand dollars, independent of the thousands\nwho attend the pay-schools of the Christian Brothers of a high\ngrade.[103]\n\nLet us now sum up in brief our objections to the further continuance\nof the present public school system:\n\nI. All education should be based and conducted on true religious\nprinciples.\n\nII. The state has no right to teach religion in its schools.\n\nIII. State or public schools without religion are godless.\n\nIV. As such, they are incapable of forming the character of our\nchildren, or teaching them morality according to the Christian\nprinciple.\n\nV. In endeavoring to avoid what is called sectarianism, they defeat       444\nthe ends of even mere secular education.\n\nNow, it may be asked, What remedy do we propose for the evils which\nour public school system has already produced? What substitute are we\nprepared to offer that will both satisfy the demands of religion and\nthe requirements of the state? We answer, by the establishment of\ndenominational schools for Catholics, wherever practicable, under the\nsupervision of the proper ecclesiastical authorities, and likewise for\nsuch of the sects as do not approve of mixed schools. How are these\nschools to be sustained? In either of two ways. If the state will\ninsist on levying a general school tax, let it be divided _pro rata_\naccording to the number of pupils taught in each school: let the\ndenominational schools have their proper proportion, and the mixed or\nnon-religious schools theirs. The amount thus apportioned to the\nCatholic schools might be deposited with a board or other executive\nbody, to be composed in whole or in part of clerics and laymen, and,\nif necessary, let the state appoint proper officials to see that\naccurate returns of attendance are made. The other way, which to our\nmind is much preferable, would be to abolish altogether the school\ntax, and throw upon the parents of all denominations or of no\ndenomination the responsibility of educating their own children.\nCompulsory education may do very well in countries where the subject\nis but an automaton liable at any time to be moved by a despotic\ngovernment, based on principles that the people are made for the\ngovernment, not the government for the people, and where the acquired\nintelligence of the masses is merely used or misused for the benefit\nof a few hereditary rulers; but in a country like our republic, the\nstrength of which lies in individual effort, and where wealth, fame,\nand honor are within the reach of every one, even the humblest who has\nenergy and ability enough to win them, we can have no fear that\nparents, and, least of all, Catholic parents, will be derelict in\ntheir duty in respect to the proper secular education of their\nchildren. The struggles they have made and are making to support their\nfree day-schools, despite the onerous tax with which they are burdened\nby the state, would be renewed with fourfold energy if that drain on\ntheir resources were removed.\n\nThe advantages to be derived from the adoption of either plan would be\nmanifold and incalculable.\n\nIt would satisfy the conscientious scruples of those parents who          445\nconsider that they should not be required, directly or indirectly, to\nsend their children to the public schools, as at present conducted. It\nwould not only advance the material prospects of the pupil, by giving\nhim a thorough education devoid of all the restrictions and\nmutilations which an attempt at fairness and the production of\nnon-religious books have produced; while he would, gradually and\nwithout apparent effort, imbibe the true religious spirit that would\nbe his guide and best defence in after life. It would also elevate the\ncharacter of the teacher by placing him in his true position, midway\nbetween the divinely appointed minister of the Gospel, and the\ninstructor of children in matters purely secular, and, by holding out\nto him a higher and nobler goal than that resulting from mere personal\nambition or the hope of pecuniary reward, would doubly increase his\nzeal and efficiency. For the public generally, the change suggested\nwould be equally salutary. The welfare of the state does not rest on\npiety alone, nor on mental intelligence alone, but on both acting\ntogether, the latter, of course, being subordinate to the former. No\nman, no matter what may have been his natural gifts, was ever less\nbrave in action, less wise in council, less enterprising in commerce,\nor less loyal to his government, because he was taught from his\ninfancy to regard the practice of religion as his first and principal\nduty. The desire of eternal happiness, as much an instinct of our\nnature as the mode of securing it, is the fruit of proper religious\neducation, reacts on a man\u2019s conduct even in matters exclusively\npertaining to the things of the world, and compels him to a more\nsteadfast and fearless course in the discharge of his civic duties.\n\nBut it would also have another and not less marked effect. It would\nrid the community of a host of officials, many of whom are\nincompetent, and some of whom, we are sorry to say, are corrupt, and\nit would also save the public treasury vast sums of money, much of\nwhich is now uselessly squandered. Who would believe that in this\ngreat city, where there is so much learning and public spirit, the\nBoard of Education, consisting of twenty-one persons, is principally\ncomposed of liquor and billiard saloon keepers, horse dealers,\nretailers of articles used in the schools, and of that nondescript\nclass called brokers? Yet this intellectual body exercises supreme\ncontrol over the public schools of New York, and proposed this year to\nspend no less a sum than $3,150,000, or more than double the amount\nrequired for the same purpose eight years ago.[104] The way in which a\nportion of this money is spent may be inferred from a statement\nrecently published in one of our daily newspapers, from which we\nextract the following paragraph:\n\n     \u201cThe next item is incidental expenses of the Board of Education,\n     including shop account, $60,000. What are \u2018incidental\u2019 expenses?\n     It means expenditures for which the items cannot be anticipated,\n     or of which it is not agreeable to furnish a statement; it means\n     simply a general fund to be expended by the clerks and officers\n     of the Board of Education as they think proper \u2018incidentally.\u2019\n     Among these \u2018incidental\u2019 expenses is what is known as a tea-room;\n     that is to say, the members have a supper or refreshments\n     furnished to them at their meetings, and as they choose to order.\n     This is never returned or charged under the head of tea-room,        446\n     supper, dinner, or board bill, but is covered up under the head\n     of postage-stamps or other \u2018incidental\u2019 expenses. How much of the\n     $60,000 goes in this way, it is, of course, impossible for us to\n     know.\u201d\n\nIs it any wonder, then, that, in view of such extravagant use of the\npublic money, of which the above is only a specimen, the education of\nabout one hundred thousand children, the average attendance at our\npublic schools, should cost over three millions of dollars, or at the\nrate of thirty dollars _per capita_, while in the Catholic free\nschools one-fifth of that number are taught at an expense of one\nhundred thousand dollars, or at the rate of only five dollars a head,\nper annum?\n\nAre the Catholics competent and prepared to assume the duties and\nresponsibilities of the education of the vast number of children of\ntheir communion who now attend the public schools? Most decidedly. As\nto our ability to teach, we point with something like pride, certainly\nwith satisfaction, to the success of our numerous colleges,\nseminaries, and convent schools, to the latter in particular, where\nare always to be found among the pupils a respectable minority\ncomposed of daughters of many of our most intelligent Protestant\nfamilies. We call attention, also, to our twenty-four city free\nschools, now in full operation, many of which, though of recent\norigin, will compare favorably with the oldest of our common schools.\nBesides the professors of our colleges, who are constantly preparing\nyoung men for the ministry and for the scarcely less responsible\nduties of teachers, and such orders as the Christian Brothers, we have\nmany trained lay instructors ready and anxious to devote themselves to\nthe good work of Christian education. Then, again, there are numbers\nof Catholic teachers now in the public schools, male and female, many\nof whom we know personally, who would prefer to give their services\nexclusively to the training of children of their own faith if such an\nopportunity presented itself. Said one of this class, a teacher of\nover twenty years\u2019 experience, on a late occasion to the writer, \u201cIf I\ndared, I would like to expose the dangers and absurdities of our\nschool system; but I cannot, for I would surely be found out and\ndismissed, and then what would become of my wife and family? I wish we\nhad separate schools for ourselves, and then I would feel like\nteaching even at a less salary than I now receive.\u201d\n\nWe submit the consideration of this very grave and, in our mind, most\nimportant question to the serious consideration of our patriotic and\nreflective countrymen, no matter of what creed or opinion, having an\nabiding confidence in their sense of justice and equity. To the\nfanatical portion of the community who will not listen to reason, we\nhave only this to say: Though you may pretend not to know it, and may\neven be unconscious of the fact, your instincts tell you that the\npresent system of education saps the foundation of the Catholic\nreligion, and it is for this reason you hold so tenaciously to it; but\nlet us add, the system itself, being godless, undermines all religion\nand morality likewise. But such is your infatuation and hostility to\nour religion that to so undermine it you are willing to see your own\nfaith, whatever that may be, ruined and wrecked as long as you can\naccomplish your object, and the next generation become atheists and\nsceptics, totally devoid of all faith. Holding the political power,\nand in spite of your boasted fair play and in defiance of the spirit\nof our free institutions, you are determined to uphold your system        447\nand tax us for its support against our consciences, against religion,\nfreedom, equal rights, and the spirit of American institutions. Your\nefforts to stretch the powers of our government, to the detriment of\nour natural, divine, and political rights, will ultimately end in your\nown confusion. They are more worthy of some half-crazed theorist or\nmad follower of Fourrier and the Communists than of a citizen of this\ngreat republic. The government that robs a parent of his rights and\nhis children is neither free nor democratic, but is the aider and\nabettor of that system of free-lovism which is said to have originated\nin pagan Sparta, and has culminated in our own country at Oneida. But\nlet it be understood that, as Catholics and free citizens, we proclaim\nour rights, shall resolutely defend them, asking for nothing which we\nare not willing to grant to others, and being content with no less for\nourselves.\n\n\n     [100] Amendment proposed March, 1789.\n\n     [101] See page 587, October number of the _Congregational\n     Quarterly_, under the title \u201cThe State--Religion in its\n     Schools.\u201d\n\n     [102] _The Pilot_, Nov. 4, 1871.\n\n     [103] For the benefit and edification of our readers, we\n     subjoin an official tabular statement of the attendance on,\n     and expenses of, the Catholic free day schools of the city\n     of New York for the present year:\n\n                                          Daily         Annual\n          Location of Schools.         attendance.     Expenses\n                                                        for the\n                                                        support\n                                                       of schools.\n\n       Nos. 272 & 274 Mulberry St.,        1,100        $6,000\n       Barclay and Church Sts.,              573         3,118\n       New Bowery and James Sts.,          1,400         9,000\n       No. 29 Mott St.,                    1,225         5,745\n       Nos. 54 & 56 Pitt St., and 264\n         Madison St.,                      1,620         9,500\n       Nos. 8 & 10 Rutgers St.,            1,050         5,000\n       Leroy St.,                          1,000         5,500\n       Nos. 300 & 302 East Eighth St.,     1,600         7,000\n       Nos. 121 & 123, and 135 & 137\n         Second St.,                       1,420         5,970\n       Nos. 8 & 10 Thompson St.,             240         2,000\n       No. 208 East Fourth St.,            1,700         6,217\n       No. 48 Fourth Ave.,                   200         2,000\n       Nos. 511 & 513 East 14th St.,       1,250        10,000\n       No. 32 West 18th St., and 111\n         West 19th St.,                      720         5,000\n       No. 118 West 24th St., and\n         236 West 26th St.,                  140         1,120\n       Nos. 333 & 335 West 25th St.,         650         3,000\n       No. 209 West 30th St., and 211\n         West 31st St.,                      400         1,600\n       No. 143 West 31st St.,                400         1,000\n       East 36th St., near Second Ave.,    1,250         6,000\n       No. 309 East 47th St.,                130         2,660\n       East 50th St. and Madison Ave.,       350         1,000\n       East 84th St., near Fourth Ave.,      560         4,000\n       West 131st St., and West\n         133d St., near 10th Ave.,           320         1,000\n       West 125th St. and Ninth Ave.,        130         1,000\n                                          -------     ---------\n                                          19,428      $104,430\n\n     [104] The expenses of the Board of Education of this city\n     for six years have been as follows:\n          1863,   $1,450,000\n          1864,    1,787,000\n          1865,    2,298,508\n          1866,    2,454,327\n          1867,    2,939,348\n          1868,    2,900,000\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n                  ONE CHRISTMAS EVE IN LA VENDEE.\n\n\nIt was in \u201893--that horrible \u201893, whose very name makes our blood\ncurdle and our hearts beat with a sense of terror and security, as\nwhen we gaze on the painted panorama of a battle-field or some scene\nof crime and danger and despair long since enacted, but brought\nvividly before us by the graphic power of eloquence or art. The words\nhave a spell in them that fascinates us, and defies us to pass on\nwithout pausing to look upon the memories they evoke. Well, it is of\nthis tragic \u201893 that I am going to speak. But not to describe its\nhorrors. It only makes the frame of my story, a most veracious story,\nand full of the spirit of that wonderful epoch, where we see all that\nwas noble and loveliest in humanity shine forth by the side of its\nmost criminal and appalling aberrations.\n\nIt was Christmas eve fourscore years ago. The fertile soil of La\nVend\u00e9e, red-dyed by streams of patriot blood, was hidden under a deep\nquilt of snow. All the landscape slept as in a death-sleep under a\npure white pall. Hills and plains were garmented in white. The snow\nhad fallen heavily during the night, and its untrodden purity was as\nsmooth and uniform as the blue of the winter sky, that looked down\nupon it and grew pale. The cottages that dotted the fair expanse\nhardly broke its uniformity, for they too were liveried in white, the\nroof thick thatched with snow, and the whitewashed walls only a degree\nless dazzling than the brightness of the ground. The hedges that\ndivide the fields in La Vend\u00e9e as in England were filled and covered\nwith snow, and the hoar-frost like a fairy lace-work glittered and\nshone on the soft, unblemished surface, and the trees with rolls of\nsnow resting on their bare gaunt arms held up clusters of icicles that\nsparkled like crystals in the tepid December sun.\n\nThe village of Chamtoc\u00e9 lay in this white landscape; and in the middle\nof the village stood the church, and close by the church the\npresbytery.\n\nOn the road that led from St. Florent to Chamtoc\u00e9 a young, lithe          448\nfigure was crushing the crisp white carpet with a long, elastic step.\nHis face was concealed, the upper part of it by a cap drawn low over\nhis forehead, and the lower part by a woollen scarf wound round his\nthroat, swallowing up the chin and nose in its capacious folds. The\nweather was not cold enough to need this ostentatious display of\n_cache-nez_; true, _la nappe blanche de la No\u00ebl_ (white cloth of\nChristmas), as the peasants call it, was spread, but there was not a\nbreath of wind, and it was not freezing. It had frozen during the\nnight just enough to sprinkle the hoar-frost abroad and hang a thin\nfringe of glass from the roofs of the houses and deck the trees with\nicicles, but this was not what the Vend\u00e9ans called freezing. The Loire\npursued its journey majestically to the sea unchecked by the icy hand\nof the black frost, the cruel black frost, that had but to blow with\nits bleak breath for one night on the strong deep stream to paralyze\nits waters and chill their moaning into icy dumbness. So, the cold was\nnot bitter. The traveller knew it, too, for on coming to a point of\nthe road where it turned abruptly, and disclosed the church with its\nslim, gray belfry, and, on the rising ground beyond it, a windmill,\nstill as spectre suspended midway between the white earth and the pale\nsky, he looked cautiously up and down the road, assured himself there\nwas no one in sight, and then, raising his beaver cap, stood\nbare-headed in the attitude of a man saluting some object of love and\nveneration.\n\n\u201cNearly four years since I knelt under the shadow of thy walls, and\nnow I have come home, and thou dost greet me with the same unchanged,\nunchanging welcome!\u201d\n\nHe replaced his cap, drew it low over his face, and continued his way.\n\n\u201cHome, did I say?\u201d he muttered presently. \u201cHave I still a home to come\nto? Gaston most likely is gone, fallen like the best blood of La\nVend\u00e9e in God\u2019s and the king\u2019s cause. And Marie!\u201d\n\nA sudden flush suffused the bronzed cheek. The pilgrim walked on with\na quicker step, and was soon at the gate of the presbytery.\n\n\u201cAh! here it is, just as I left it--the little wicket that opened so\noften with a ready welcome. A good omen to begin with!\u201d\n\nHe pushed it and walked on. The door of the dwelling-house stood ajar;\nwinter and summer it was never shut; he pushed it open, and knocked\ngently at a door on the left.\n\n\u201cCome in!\u201d said M. le Cur\u00e9.\n\nAnd Fran\u00e7ois L\u00e9onval entered and stood face to face with the only\nfather he had known on earth. Nearly four years had passed since they\nhad parted, and the old priest who had baptized him, and taught him,\nand wept with him beside his mother\u2019s grave, was just the same as when\nhe had left him, benign, cheerful, a trifle more bowed perhaps and a\ngood deal whiter, but the same in everything else--nothing was changed\nwithin. He looked up promptly, closed his book, and then, with a\nglance where \u201ccharity that thinketh no evil\u201d deprecated a certain\nvague mistrust, he said:\n\n\u201cWhat can I do for you, my boy?\u201d\n\n\u201cMonsieur le Cur\u00e9! mon p\u00e8re! Is this the welcome you give me?\u201d\n\n\u201cFran\u00e7ois! my son! my best-loved!\u201d And the old man held out his arms,\nand the two clasped each other.\n\n\u201cAh! my son!\u201d exclaimed the cur\u00e9, when his emotion left him power to\nspeak, \u201cthis is an hour worth suffering for; it pays me for many days     449\nof anguish. Little did I dream to have such a joy before we met in\nheaven. My son! my boy! Blessed be God and Our Lady of Mercy, who have\nwatched over you and brought you back to me! I never thought to see\nyour face before I died!\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd why not, mon p\u00e8re!\u201d said Fran\u00e7ois, laughing, and embracing him\nagain; \u201cyou know the prodigals are sure to return sooner or later;\nbesides, you promised to pray me safe home, and not to go to heaven\ntill I came back to get your blessing. Did you forget your promise?\u201d\n\n\u201cForget it! Does a father forget his son? But you have travelled a\nlong way; you will tell me all presently; but first you must have need\nof food and warmth. Victoire!\u201d\n\nThe grim old gouvernante appeared, and on recognizing Fran\u00e7ois her\nfeatures expanded into a smile of genuine delight, and she embraced\nthe young man with motherly affection, and overpowered him with\nquestions that she never waited to hear answered, while she bustled\nabout the table, running backward and forward to her kitchen, and\nmaking ready with all speed the very best her store could supply. The\nfrugal meal was soon spread, and the cur\u00e9, to whom, after the first\noutburst of joy had subsided, her presence was an unguessed relief,\nsaid with a sudden change in his voice and look that struck cold on\nFran\u00e7ois\u2019s heart:\n\n\u201cAh! Fran\u00e7ois, Fran\u00e7ois, it was not well to leave me all these years\nwithout a sign or a word. Gaston held out for a long time that either\nyou had escaped from the country, or that you were still fighting, and\nthat it was in either case only the fear of getting us into trouble\nthat prevented you writing, or the want of a trusty messenger, and I\nbelieved him while I could; but when two whole years went by, and still\nwe had no news, what could I think but that you had fallen? Victoire,\nput on your hood, and go--but stay--no, I had better go myself. We\nmust run no risks: there is a price on your head, you say? I will go\nmyself. These are times when we need the cunning of the serpent more\nthan the innocence of the dove. Alas! what does innocence avail my\nlittle ones? But shame upon me for an ungrateful wretch! Does it not\navail them the palm-branch and the crown, and are not the purest of\nthe flock chosen for a sacrifice to plead for the guilty?\u201d\n\nThus discoursing, he wrapped himself in his heavy serge cloak, and\nclutched his stick, and went in search of Gaston, but not without\nfirst speaking a word in Victoire\u2019s ear.\n\nAnd who was Gaston? Gaston was cousin-german and adopted brother of\nFran\u00e7ois. They had been brought up from infancy together by Gaston\u2019s\nmother. When they were both sixteen, she died, leaving the lads to the\ncare of the good God and Monsieur le Cur\u00e9, and bidding them love each\nother like true brothers, and live together in the comfortable\ncottage, which, being her own, she bequeathed them as a joint legacy\ntill either should marry, and then, if they chose to separate, the one\nwho left was to have compensation in a sum of money to be kept by M.\nle Cur\u00e9 till the event entitled either of the youths to claim it.\nBesides the cottage, their mother, for both the lads looked on her as\nsuch, left two thousand francs, to be equally divided between them\nwhen they came to be twenty-one. This was the wedding portion she had\nbrought to Gaston\u2019s father, and as she had adopted Fran\u00e7ois, and given\nhim a true mother\u2019s love, she wished to divide her all, share and\nshare, between him and her own son.\n\nGaston had a goodly inheritance of land from his father, so she was       450\nnot impoverishing him by sharing her own with his brother, and he\ncould never feel in after-life that she had wronged him. So Jeanne\nL\u00e9onval thought, at least. And perhaps she was right at the time. But\nas years went on, Gaston saw things differently; his ideas about the\nvalue of money changed, and with them his notions regarding right and\njustice, and he began to feel an undefined vexation and sense of\ninjury on the subject of his mother\u2019s will. For Gaston had a worm at\nhis heart--the worm that entered the heart of Judas, and sucked it dry\nof love, and truth, and mercy, and led him at last to deicide and\ndespair. He loved money, and he was growing to love it more every day;\nit was filling up his heart, and making him hard and selfish, and\nbrushing off the bloom of his boyish freshness. He was growing into a\nmiser. Nobody noticed the growth. Gaston did not suspect it. He lived\nlike other people, frugally but abundantly, in the homely manner of\nhis mother and the people of his class. He wore good clothes, and the\nsame as those around him. But though he did not take to the ways and\ncrotchets of the miser of the story-book, his heart was none the less\ndeveloping the miser\u2019s spirit, and growing rapidly absorbed, to the\nexclusion of all other aims, in the love of money. He grudged more and\nmore parting with it, and he longed and pined more greedily after its\npossession. Fran\u00e7ois, who lived with him, saw nothing of this. He saw\nhim indeed eager and active in turning his land and stock to account,\nvigilant to seize every opportunity for gain, sharp at striking a\nbargain, chary of spending his money on many innocent pleasures that\ntempted the self-denial of older and wiser heads; but this was right\nand fair so far. There were plenty of idlers, and fellows to spend\ntheir money as fast as they made it, and it was well to see Gaston\nprudent and thrifty, and laying by for the rainy day and the little\nones who would be coming by-and-by. So argued the honest, open-handed\nFran\u00e7ois, who approved the wisdom of his brother, but did not practise\nit, and never could keep a franc in his pocket while he saw any one in\nwant of it. Quite as self-denying as Gaston, he pinched himself from a\ndifferent motive. He saved to give. He gave to the widow who would be\ndriven from her shelter if he did not come in time to pay the rent; he\ngave to the cold and the hungry; no hearth wanted wood, no mouth\ncraved for bread, while Fran\u00e7ois could supply both. Not a child in the\nvillage but loved him, not an elder but smiled a blessing on the young\nman as he passed. Gaston knew it, and forgave him. He loved him well\nenough to forgive him even that share in his mother\u2019s _dot_ that was\ncoming to Fran\u00e7ois one of these days. But when the day came, and he\nsaw the money that ought to have been his handed over to his\ncousin--he disowned the brotherhood that moment for the first time in\nhis life--Gaston felt the fiend wake up in him, he felt he was badly\ntreated, wronged and robbed of his due, and he was wrathful against\nJeanne and Fran\u00e7ois. In the angry spirit of the moment, he spoke\nbitter words to Fran\u00e7ois, and reproached him for having come between\nhim and his mother. But Fran\u00e7ois, who retained the guilelessness of a\nchild, cared too little about the money to seize the base motive of\nhis brother\u2019s anger; he thought it was an outburst of latent jealousy\nagainst the orphan child who had come between him and the fulness of      451\nhis mother\u2019s love, and, with the warmth of a generous nature, Fran\u00e7ois\nforgave him his unjust reproaches; he offered to give up all at once\nunconditionally to his cousin, and to leave the cottage, and take no\ncompensation, provided only Gaston would give him back his love and\ntrust. Gaston was not utterly hardened, and the generosity and\nfrankness of his cousin disarmed him, and shamed him out of his\nunworthy resentment; he embraced him, and asked him to forgive him,\nand they were true brothers from that out. The coils of avarice twined\nround Gaston\u2019s heart, and choked his best instincts and his finest\nimpulses, but they did not crush out his love for Fran\u00e7ois. That grew\nand flourished like a lily amongst weeds. So they stayed together till\nthey grew up to man\u2019s estate, and then an event occurred in the\ndistant town of Chapelle-aux-lys which was to make a new era in the\nlives of both.\n\nA niece of the cur\u00e9\u2019s died, leaving one orphan child, whom she\nimplored her uncle to receive and take care of; Marie was alone in the\nworld; and there was no one to whom the mother could bequeath her\nexcept the cur\u00e9 of Chamtoc\u00e9. Great was the perplexity of the worthy\npriest when he received the intelligence of his niece\u2019s death,\naccompanied by the unexpected legacy of a grand-niece, and a request\nthat he would enter into possession at once. Victoire was called into\ncouncil, but, instead of helping him out of the difficulties of the\nposition, she staggered him by asking if he meant to buy a cage and\nhang _la petite_ in the window like a canary? That was the only way\n_she_ saw of taking her in. Why, they were so tight for room that\nif she, Victoire, were not the woman she was, it would be simply an\nimpossibility to fit herself and her _effects_ into the space allotted\nto her at the presbytery; and where, in the name of common sense, did\nM. le Cur\u00e9 think she could make room for another inmate? The cur\u00e9\nadmitted the inexorable logic of this fact, and immediately proposed\nadding another room to the house; this was the Vend\u00e9an\u2019s ready way of\nsimplifying difficulties when his family outgrew his dwelling.\nVictoire said of course that this remedy was open to them, but what\nwere they to do with _la petite_ till the room was built? Hang her up\nin the window? M. le Cur\u00e9 rejected the cage alternative, and suggested\nhis niece be sent to one of the farmers\u2019 wives\u2019 for the time being.\n\u201cWhich of them?\u201d Victoire begged leave to inquire. M\u00e8re Madeleine\nwould take her and welcome, but she had four sons at home, so that\nwould not do. Then there were La M\u00e8re Tustine and La Tante Ursule, and\na great many other estimable matrons who would gladly give her a\nshelter, but between their hospitality and Marie\u2019s acceptance of it\nthere stood some impediment in the shape of sons or brothers that shut\nthe door on the young stranger. The cur\u00e9 and his gouvernante were\npuzzling over the case, and seeing no way out of it, when Fran\u00e7ois\nL\u00e9onval came in. The cur\u00e9 loved all his children, but, if there was\none that he loved better than all, it was the child-like, open-hearted\nFran\u00e7ois. He told him at once of his trouble, and asked him what he\nwas to do. Fran\u00e7ois solved the difficulty instanter by offering him\nthe spare room at home--his mother\u2019s formerly, and never occupied\nsince her death--assuring the cur\u00e9 that he and Gaston and Gervoise,\ntheir old _bonne_, would take every care of his grand-niece, and that,\nfar from being in the way, she would be quite a godsend to them all in\nthe dull cottage. The cur\u00e9 smiled with a deeper thankfulness than the     452\nyoung man understood at the biblical simplicity betrayed in this\nproposal, and it took a good deal of argument to make Fran\u00e7ois see\nthat the scheme was not practicable; but when ultimately he did see\nit, he was ready with an amendment which the cur\u00e9 saw no fair reason\nfor rejecting. This was that Mlle. Marie was to be installed in her\nuncle\u2019s room, and he was to come and stay with the brothers while\nanother was being added to the presbytery. This point settled, the\nfirst thing to be done was to get possession of Marie. The cur\u00e9 would\nhave gladly gone to fetch the poor little orphan himself, but this was\nSaturday, a very busy day for the country priest, and to-morrow would\nbe Sunday, a busier day still, and when it was quite impossible for\nhim to be absent. But Fran\u00e7ois here again came to the rescue. He would\ndrive over to Chapelle-aux-lys, put up for a few hours--it was a good\nthree hours\u2019 drive--and be back by nightfall with the legacy. Fran\u00e7ois\nL\u00e9onval was perhaps the only youth in the village to whom such a\nmission could have been entrusted without its provoking a stream of\nchattering comments on all sides, but the cur\u00e9 knew that not even that\nqueen of gossips, Tante Ursule, would find a word to say against it in\nhis case. So he gave his blessing to Fran\u00e7ois, who ran home as fast as\nhe could, put the strong bay mare to the cariole, and was soon\ntrotting over the snow on the road to Chapelle-aux-lys. This was how\nMarie came to Chamtoc\u00e9.\n\nIn due time the room was built, the cur\u00e9 took leave of the brothers,\nand returned to the presbytery, where Marie reigned henceforth with\nsoft, despotic sway over himself, the stiff old Victoire, and all who\ncame within her kingdom. She was soon the acknowledged belle of\nChamtoc\u00e9, and the number of her admirers and the zeal with which they\ncompeted for her hand in the village dance, or the honor of carrying\nher red morocco _Heures_ to and from church on Sundays and f\u00eate-days,\nbecame a serious complication in the existence of the venerable cur\u00e9.\nFor his flock loved him with the love that casteth out fear, and had\nno secrets from him; old and young went to him with their _confidences_\nas a matter of course, and the rival candidates for Marie\u2019s favors\ncarried their hopes and fears and complaints of her and of each other\nto his sympathizing ears with merciless garrulity. It was no small\nthing to bear the burden of this confidence, to hearken to these\nknotty cases, and to give advice and sympathy befitting each\nparticular one. The cur\u00e9, to be sure, had more experience than most\nmen in this kind of diplomacy, having been the bosom confidant of all\nthe swains who had sighed to the belles of Chamtoc\u00e9 these forty years\npast; but he declared that Marie\u2019s lovers gave him more to do than the\nwhole generation together. There were nine eligible _partis_ going,\nand all nine were competing for her. The good man was driven to his\nwits\u2019 end. Marie remained serenely indifferent to them all, and never\ngave a glance of encouragement to one above another, nor could her\nuncle detect the faintest sign of preference toward any of them. He\ntook refuge, therefore, in perfect neutrality, and refused to\ninterfere in behalf of any of the suitors. She was young enough to\nbide her time and try their fidelity before she adopted a choice so\nimportant to them and to herself. Marie was fifteen when she came to\nChamtoc\u00e9. The revolution had broken out in Paris and was spreading\nrapidly through the provinces. La Vend\u00e9e, which was destined soon to      453\nplay such a noble part in the fiercest tragedy the world ever saw, was\nstill comparatively quiet; but before Marie had spent two years in her\nnew home, the Royalist movement was firing the hearts of the Vend\u00e9ans,\nand the enthusiastic spirit of Charette and Cathelineau and Stoffel\nwas fanning the flames of patriotism and goading the peasants to that\ngrand and universal uprising whose story stands unparalleled in the\nannals of chivalrous loyalty. The Republican soldiers, _les bleus_, as\nthey were called, were scouring the country, depopulating villages,\nmurdering the priests, and hunting down the nobles, ordering off whole\nstreets to the guillotine in a batch, spreading terror and devastation\neverywhere. The peasantry had risen _en masse_ and joined the Royalist\ntroops, and were selling their lives and their altars dear. Chamtoc\u00e9\nwas not behind hand in the patriotic movement. It furnished its goodly\ncontingent of soldiers to the king, and many were the episodes of\ndaring and self-devoted loyalty that marked the progress of the\nVend\u00e9an cause in the pretty, peaceful village.\n\nMarie was just seventeen when the first recruitment took place. It was\na bright spring morning. She was sitting in the latticed window of the\npresbytery parlor, a dark-eyed, merry-looking maiden in a fan-shaped\nVend\u00e9an cap, whose soft white cambric frilling set off her warm olive\ncomplexion admirably, and made her a very pretty picture as she sat\nsinging to her spinning-wheel, bobbing her head with a quick, graceful\nmovement that kept time to the play of her foot and hands. At a table\nat the other end of the room the cur\u00e9 was writing away diligently. He\nwas too much absorbed in his work to be disturbed by the musical\npurring of Marie\u2019s wheel, or the broken snatches of song with which\nshe varied the _rond-rond_ and enlivened the pleasant, monotonous\nlabor; he knew she was there, but her presence was no more hindrance\nto him than the sunshine that was streaming unbidden through the\nwindow, and filling the little room with warmth and brightness.\n\nSuddenly the _rond-rond_ ceased, Marie looked up, and fixed her eyes\non some distant object along on the road. Then she stood up, and said\nhurriedly:\n\n\u201cMon oncle! mon oncle!\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, my child?\u201d answered the cur\u00e9 abstractedly, without pausing from\nhis work.\n\n\u201cI see horsemen galloping toward the village. _Sont-ce les bleus?_\u201d\n\nThe word made the cur\u00e9 start like the touch of a spring. He dropped\nhis pen and was beside her in an instant. They looked out steadily\ntoward the dust-cloud that was advancing rapidly, and for one minute\nneither spoke. Then the cur\u00e9 exclaimed joyfully:\n\n\u201cNo! They are Charette\u2019s men!\u201d\n\nAnd so they were. But none the less was there cause for Marie\u2019s cheek\nto grow pale, and the heart of the old pastor to beat with a great\nemotion. They knew what brought these Royalist soldiers to Chamtoc\u00e9.\nCharette wanted men, and he had sent here to levy them. In less than\nan hour, every available man in the village was up on the _place_ for\ninspection. The difficulty was whom to take and whom to refuse, for\nthe brave fellows whose exploits and valor won for them later the\nsobriquet of _peuple de g\u00e9ants_ (race of giants) were all clamoring to\nbe enrolled under the king\u2019s flag, and to go forth and die for the\nking\u2019s cause.\n\nFor the first time to-day since that outbreak that had bound them in\ncloser brotherhood, Fran\u00e7ois and Gaston quarrelled. Both wanted to go,    454\nboth were equally good for the service; the recruiting officer, unable\nto choose between them, declared they must decide for themselves. The\nonly way to do this was to defer it to the cur\u00e9. They walked off to\nthe church, where the old man was speaking plain, soul-stirring words\nof encouragement and exhortation to a throng of men and women, the men\nexulting, the women weeping, but all of one mind and heart in the\ncause, and ready to give their best and dearest to serve under the\nbanner of the fleur-de-lis.\n\nMarie was kneeling close by the altar, amidst a group of weeping\nmothers and sisters. Her eyes were dry, but dim and restless; she\nspoke to no one, but turned constantly toward the door, as if she were\nwatching for some new arrival. When the brothers came in, there was a\nmovement, the crowd made way for them as they walked up to the altar,\nand hushed their sobs to hear what they were going to say.\n\n\u201cMonsieur le Cur\u00e9,\u201d said Gaston, \u201conly one of us may enlist, and you\nare to choose between us; which of us may go and fight for the king?\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! my children, what is it you ask of me! How can I choose!\u201d\nexclaimed the old man, clasping his hands. \u201cYou are both dear to me; I\nwould have you both fight for the king and win a crown of glory. If\nyou fall fighting in defence of God and his altars, yours will be the\ncrown of the martyrs. Which is most pure at heart, strongest in faith,\nmost worthy to serve in the cause of God? He alone can tell!\u201d\n\n\u201cFran\u00e7ois! Fran\u00e7ois!\u201d cried many voices in chorus, and the people\ngathered round the poor man\u2019s friend, and blessed him, and bid him joy\nof being chosen for the good fight.\n\n\u201cSo be it!\u201d said the cur\u00e9; and Fran\u00e7ois knelt down, and the cur\u00e9 laid\nboth hands upon his head and blessed him.\n\nMarie was a silent and unnoticed spectator of the scene. She was still\non her knees, clasping the altar-rails with both hands so tightly that\nthe strain left them white and bloodless. Fran\u00e7ois waited till the\ncrowd had followed M. le Cur\u00e9 out of the church, and it was empty\nexcept of the two, and then he went close up to Marie and knelt down\nbeside her. He did not speak, and she did not look at him, but she\nknew that it was Fran\u00e7ois.\n\n\u201cMarie!\u201d he said, and laid his hand on her arm.\n\nThen she turned and looked into his eyes, and these two knew that they\nloved each other.\n\n\u201cIf I fall, you will remember me, Marie, and pray for me,\u201d said\nFran\u00e7ois, taking her hand in both his.\n\n\u201cYes.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd, Marie, if I return--\u201d\n\n\u201cWe will come to this same spot and bless God together, Fran\u00e7ois.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou will wait for me a year and a day?\u201d\n\n\u201cI will wait for you to the end of my life.\u201d\n\nThey sent up one last prayer in silence, then kissed each other and\nparted.\n\nAs Fran\u00e7ois left the church he met Gaston, who was seeking him in\ngreat concern everywhere. The brothers walked home arm-in-arm,\ndiscoursing with full hearts of this sudden and solemn parting. When\nthey entered the cottage, Fran\u00e7ois went straight to his room, and came\nout with a small deal box in his hand.\n\n\u201c_Fr\u00e8re_,\u201d he said, \u201cI have not much to trouble about in the way of\nproperty, but what I have you will keep for me. My savings are nothing\nto speak of, seven hundred francs in all; here is the box. I should not\nhave had even that sum but for the sale of the cattle at Easter. Do       455\nthe best you can for me with it; lay it out in stock or grain--whatever\nbrings most as times go. The sheep were the best investment the last\ntwo fairs; I wish I had done more in that line; but I was never\noverwise with my money, and this will thrive better in your hands than\nin mine, _fr\u00e8re_; only I would rather you didn\u2019t let it lie out long\nat a time, as you do with your own; gather it in soon after a good\nstroke, and let it grow till it\u2019s a good sum; it\u2019s not safe in these\ndays to leave one\u2019s money floating in any business.\u201d\n\nGaston\u2019s astonishment had grown to stupefaction by the time his\nbrother brought this speech to an end. What did it mean, this sudden\ndesire to make money and let it accumulate? Fran\u00e7ois had all his life\nbeen as careless of louis-d\u2019or as of carrots or apples, and gave them\naway as readily for the asking; and now that he was about to face the\ncannon, and stood a strong chance of never needing them again, he was\nsmitten with an insane desire to have them increase and multiply.\nThough Gaston said nothing, Fran\u00e7ois read this wonder in his eyes.\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t think I\u2019ve put my heart in the money,\u201d he said, laying a hand\non Gaston\u2019s shoulder, and looking wistfully into his face; \u201cI\u2019d hand\nit to you for your own, to do as you liked with it, if I were alone in\nthe world; but I\u2019m not, _fr\u00e8re_. I\u2019ve another to think of now.\u201d\n\nHe drew away his hand, and averted his face quickly, but Gaston saw\nhis lip quiver, and the drops gather in his brave, truthful eyes. He\nsaw it all at a glance, and followed the recruit\u2019s figure, as it\ndisappeared again into his room, with an expression on his face that\nit was better for both Fran\u00e7ois did not see; if he had looked at his\nbrother then he would have read a secret that would have pierced his\nheart like a sword. Gaston stood staring after him as if he had been\nturned to stone, his features fierce and hard-set, the veins in his\nforehead swelling and throbbing, all his frame shaken by a vehement\nstruggle. Gaston mastered it, his face relaxed, and he went in after\nFran\u00e7ois.\n\n\u201c_Fr\u00e8re_,\u201d he said, \u201cyou may trust me,\u201d and held out his hand to him.\n\nFran\u00e7ois clasped it, but looking at his brother with a puzzled smile:\n\n\u201cTrust thee!\u201d he repeated, \u201cas if I needed thy pledge for that!\nBrother, I trust thee as I trust my soul.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd, _fr\u00e8re_, as Monsieur le Cur\u00e9 said just now, the best and purest\nare chosen for the sacrifice; if--\u201d\n\n\u201c_Vive Dieu et le Roi!_\u201d cried Fran\u00e7ois, raising his cap. Then he was\nsilent a moment before he said:\n\n\u201cIf I fall, you will be a good brother to Marie, and do what you can\nto comfort her.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd the money, what shall I do with it?\u201d\n\n\u201cGive it to her.\u201d\n\nThe brothers embraced, and set out in search of M. le Cur\u00e9. He blessed\nthem all once more, and the brave young fellows fell into ranks with\nthe soldiers, and marched off singing their battle-psalm, their hearts\nbeating with high hope and faith and courage; while brave Vend\u00e9an\nmothers followed them out of the village, speeding them with blessings\nand cries of _Vive Dieu et le Roi!_ It echoed through the gathering\ntwilight with a strange, inspiring pathos. Quiet and darkness fell\nupon Chamtoc\u00e9, the shadows died out of the silent church, the red\nflame of the sanctuary lamp rose and fell, flickering like a crimson\npulse in the gloom, and casting its halo on the bowed head of the         456\nVend\u00e9an soldier\u2019s _fianc\u00e9e_.\n\n\nPART SECOND.\n\nFran\u00e7ois\u2019s money multiplied with such unprecedented luck in Gaston\u2019s\nkeeping that the little deal box was soon too small to hold it. Gaston\nkept very little money of his own in hand, he let it float, as his\nbrother said, but whatever he had was always in gold--he never took\npayment in anything else, and he followed the same plan for Fran\u00e7ois.\nIf it had been his own, he could not have put more zeal into the\nmanagement of it; and it was with a sense of personal pride and\nsuccess that at the end of a year he counted over Fran\u00e7ois\u2019s treasure,\nand found he had trebled the original sum. And Marie--how fared it\nwith her? She was waiting in patience and hope and prayer till the\ntime named by Fran\u00e7ois as the furthest date of his return came and\npassed and brought no sign of him, and then her heart sank. She could\nnot think that he would leave her in such cruel ignorance of his fate\nif he were still alive; but neither could she believe that he was\ndead. They would have heard of it somehow. Bad news travels quickly at\nall times, and even in those days of terror, when postal arrangements\nwere broken up, and it was at the risk of his head that a messenger\ncarried a letter, news came from the most distant points to\nout-of-the-way villages in a way that was almost miraculous. _Les bleus_\nwere everywhere, ubiquitous, stealthy, vindictive, but they could not\ncut off communication between the Royalists. Fresh recruits started\nfrom Chamtoc\u00e9, and wounds and deaths and noble exploits were\nchronicled from the distant camp or battle-field, but not a word came\nover the hilly plains of La Vend\u00e9e to tell of the fate of Fran\u00e7ois\nL\u00e9onval. Two years went by, and still the silence was unbroken. Then\none morning Gaston dressed himself with unwonted care, and went to the\npresbytery. He found M. le Cur\u00e9 alone. They sat some time together,\nand when the young man rose to take his leave, the cur\u00e9 said:\n\n\u201cYou will meet her probably on the way home. Plead your own cause, my\nboy; I have done what I could for you; you have my best blessing if\nyou can persuade Marie.\u201d\n\nGaston met her and pleaded. But not successfully. \u201cFran\u00e7ois said a\nyear and a day, and after that, if you did not hear, you might be sure\nhe had gone before us,\u201d urged Gaston, choosing the word that would\nfall less harshly on his listener\u2019s heart; \u201cand now two years have\npassed and he has neither written nor sent. I do not ask you to forget\nhim, or to cease to love him; we will both love him, and think of him\nalways as dear brother, and he will be happier in heaven for seeing\nyou happy here. Let me fulfil my promise to him that I would take care\nof you. Come home with me, Marie, and be my wife!\u201d\n\n\u201cI promised that I would wait for him,\u201d answered Marie, her dark eyes\nlooking out toward the west with a gaze of patient longing as she\nwalked on by Gaston\u2019s side.\n\n\u201cA year and a day. You told me he said a year and a day.\u201d\n\n\u201cHe said it, but I put no limit to the time. I said I would wait to\nthe end.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut he would not have it, Marie; he loved you too well to wish you to\nwaste your life in solitude and vain hopes.\u201d\n\nBut Marie shook her head and repeated:\n\n\u201cI promised I would wait for him.\u201d                                        457\n\n\u201cAnd your uncle--does his wish count for nothing? You know that he has\nlong since given up all hope, and that the thought of leaving you\nalone in the world is embittering his old age. \u2018I am getting old,\u2019 he\nsaid to me just now, \u2018but the only thing that makes me dread death is\nthis anxiety about my _pauvre petite_. Who will take care of her when\nI am gone?\u2019 \u2018I promised Fran\u00e7ois I would, _mon p\u00e8re_,\u2019 I said. \u2018Then\ngo and plead with her for yourself and for me,\u2019 he replied, \u2018that\nMarie may let you keep your promise.\u2019\u201d\n\nThey walked on in silence till they came to the gate of the\npresbytery, and Marie raised her face to Gaston\u2019s and said:\n\n\u201cWait one year more, Gaston, and then, if you still wish, come and\ntell me, and I will go home with you.\u201d\n\n\u201cI have waited three years already, and I would wait as many more to\nwin you,\u201d answered the young man; and as he bent his face over\nhers--not a handsome face, but illuminated now by eyes that were\nliquid and beautiful with beseeching love--Marie thought that, since\nshe must choose a home when her uncle was gone, she would rather share\nGaston\u2019s than any other, and that it might not be such a difficult\nthing to love him by-and-by.\n\nThat night, when Gervoise had gone to bed, and the place was quiet and\nall the bolts drawn, Gaston took out Fran\u00e7ois\u2019 money-bag and counted\nover the contents. It was a good round sum now. He built up the louis\ninto little piles and reckoned them, and then poured them back into\nthe bag; and the coins flashed like little suns in the dim light of\nhis lantern; and Gaston feasted his eyes on them: he thrust his hand\ninto the heap, and, gathering up a handful of coins, let them drip down\nthrough his fingers one by one, listening to the pure ring of the\nmetal as if it had been music, as indeed it was to him. Now that Marie\nhad promised to be his wife, this gold which was hers would soon be\nhis, and before the year was out it would be a still bigger heap. He\nhad not told her or the cur\u00e9 that Francois had left any money in his\ncharge, not from any idea of latent treachery to Fran\u00e7ois--oh, no!\nGaston was incapable of that; but it had been his dream ever since\nFran\u00e7ois had gone to win Marie and then settle this money on her,\ntelling her, of course, whose gift it was. Partly from methodical\nhabit, and partly from an unconfessed pleasure in the sight and touch\nof the gold, he had made a point of counting it all over after every\nfresh transaction, but from this night out he began to count it\noftener. The fact that it was now to all intents and purposes his own\nadded a new zest to the operation, and the prospect of it became by\ndegrees the chief solace of his working hours, till at last he came to\ncount it regularly every night and to long for the moment when he\ncould lock his door and turn the flame of his lantern on the burning\nblaze of the gold.\n\nThe year came to an end. There was no news of Fran\u00e7ois, and Gaston,\nbeing still of the same mind, claimed his promise, and Marie came home\nwith him.\n\nBut seven months later Fran\u00e7ois was tramping along through the snow on\nhis way to Chamtoc\u00e9, and now he is sitting before the pine-wood fire\nin Monsieur le Cur\u00e9\u2019s parlor. He had not asked for Marie, and the cur\u00e9\nhad not named her. The dumb entreaty of Fran\u00e7ois\u2019 eyes smote him to\nthe heart, and he had not the courage to tell the pilgrim that the\nlight which had lured him on through the smoke of the battle, in the      458\ndreary watches of the bivouac, in the many miseries of his soldier\nlife, was a mirage that had tempted him along the desert path, only to\nmock him when he neared it, and fade out of the sky like a false and\nfickle star. No; he had not the courage to tell him that Marie was his\nbrother\u2019s wife.\n\nWhen the cur\u00e9 entered the cottage, he found Gaston sitting down to his\ndinner alone. Marie had gone to nurse a sick neighbor\u2019s child. The\ncur\u00e9 was glad of her absence. It made his mission easier. \u201c_Mon\ngar\u00e7on_,\u201d he said at once, \u201cI bring news that will startle you, and I\nam thankful to be able to break it to you before Marie hears it. Your\nbrother is come back.\u201d The cur\u00e9 expected his announcement to startle\nGaston, as he had said, but he was not prepared for the effect it\nproduced. The young man stood bolt upright, looked at the cur\u00e9 with\nwild, scared eyes, and dropped again into his chair without uttering a\nword.\n\n\u201cHave you told him?\u201d he gasped, after an interval of silence that the\nold priest felt himself incapable of breaking.\n\n\u201cNo; her name was not mentioned by either of us.\u201d\n\n\u201cHa!\u201d Gaston drew a breath of relief; \u201cthen perhaps--who knows? He may\ntake it less to heart than we fear?\u201d\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t know. At his age, four years is a long absence; still we\ncannot tell. But at any rate, my son, you must come and give him a\nbrother\u2019s welcome, and do what a brother\u2019s love can do to lighten the\ndisappointment to him.\u201d\n\nHe took Gaston\u2019s arm, and they went out to the presbytery together.\n\nThe cur\u00e9\u2019s heart belied his words when he held out the hope that\nFran\u00e7ois\u2019 love might not have borne unchanged the test of absence. He\nknew the youth too well to believe it. And he was right.\n\nThe meeting between the brothers was quiet, but none the less\nterrible. The cur\u00e9 told Fran\u00e7ois how it had all happened; how\nfaithfully Marie had kept her troth, hoping long after he and Gaston\nhad given up all hope; how at length he had urged her to listen to\nGaston; and how, tardily and with a sad heart, she had yielded to both\ntheir entreaties. Fran\u00e7ois heard him to the end, and then, in a voice\nof heart-rending gentleness, he said:\n\n\u201cIt was my fault, _fr\u00e8re_; I do not blame thee. God\u2019s will be done!\u201d\n\nHe held out his hand, Gaston clasped it, and the brothers stood for a\nmoment face to face in silence. Both were very, pale, but it was not\nFran\u00e7ois who was the paler of the two.\n\nGaston went home, and Fran\u00e7ois watched his figure across the little\ngarden and down the road till it disappeared like a blue speck on the\nwhite background, and then he fell upon the cur\u00e9\u2019s neck and sobbed\nlike a woman.\n\nBefore many hours Chamtoc\u00e9 was on tiptoe with alarm and curiosity. A\nshepherd had arrived in haste with the news that one of the royalist\ncaptains had passed through Saumur in disguise, and been traced to\nChapelle-aux-lys, whence _les bleus_ were started in pursuit of him;\nthere was a large price on his head; and _les bleus_ were so enraged\nagainst him for his desperate exploits and for having baffled them so\nlong, that they were resolved to show no quarter to the people that\nharbored him, and would set fire to the town rather than let him\nescape. An old cowherd who had been born and bred in the service of\nthe Maulevriers had recognized Fran\u00e7ois L\u00e9onvel on the road, and,\nguessing whither he was bound, had sent a trusty messenger with a word    459\nof warning to Chamtoc\u00e9.\n\nGaston was the only person, besides the cur\u00e9 and Victoire, who knew of\nhis brother\u2019s arrival so far, and when Gervoise came in with this\nnews, which she caught from the village gossips on her way from\nevening prayers, his first impulse was to rush to the presbytery, and\nwarn his brother to start at once, and seek some safer hiding-place.\nHe went out quickly, but, as he had his hand on the wicket, he saw\nMarie coming towards the cottage. She was the last person he wished to\nmeet just then, but he could not avoid her without exciting surprise\nin her mind, and perhaps suspicion. So he tarried till she came,\nwondering why she walked so slowly, as if she did not make sure he was\nwaiting for her, or as if--as Gaston\u2019s heart whispered to him--she\nwould rather he went without speaking to her. Why? Was it possible the\ntruth had come to her ears already? He could not believe it, still it\nwas with a painful quickening of his pulse that he saw her at that\nleisurely pace.\n\n\u201cWere you waiting for me, Gaston?\u201d she said simply.\n\n\u201cNo. I am going in to Monsieur le Cur\u00e9 for a minute; I will be back\npresently. Are you not well, Marie?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, _mon ami_, quite well, only tired and cold.\u201d\n\nShe drew her shawl closer round her with a little shudder, and passed\nhim and entered the cottage. Gaston\u2019s heart leaped up as if an adder\nhad stung it, and then sank as suddenly with a horrible faintness. He\nleaned against the snow-stuffed hedge and felt as if the very life\nwere frozen within him. The blood rushed to his throat; he put his\nhand to his forehead as if a spasm of pain had stunned him; but soon\nrousing himself from his absent attitude, he walked on to the\npresbytery. But he did not enter it. He did not see it, in fact. He\nwalked on and on like a man in a dream, looking neither to the right\nnor the left, and when suddenly he remembered where he was, and\nwhither he was bound, he had left the village more than a league\nbehind him, and was standing on the sloping beach of St. Florent,\nunder the shadow of its semicircular hills that look down upon the\nLoire, where the little islet of ---- sits like a brooding swan midway\nin its waters. The night had fallen, but the moon was not yet up, and\nthe darkness was only lightened by the snowy reflex of the landscape.\nA bank of cloud hung like a heavy curtain over the hill, and hid away\nthe moon. Somehow Gaston was glad of the darkness. But it was in vain\nthat he strove to make it dark within. No outer darkness could conceal\nfrom him the workings of his heart. He saw into its troubled depths as\nclearly as if a thousand moons had been shining in the purple vault\nabove him. He saw the tempter busy with his fiercest instincts, and he\nsaw what a base and miserable tool he was. Ay, but desperate as well\nas base. Much must be forgiven to a desperate man. Here was his whole\nlife wrecked. His wife\u2019s affection and trust--he felt it had not yet\ngrown to love--was lost to him; his gold was lost to him--his\nprecious, darling gold, that he had hugged to his heart till it grew\nto be a part of it, a second wife; and he must give it up just at a\nmoment when he wanted it as he had never done before, and had laid out\nall his money, and had not a louis to ring on his hearthstone except\nthis gold of Fran\u00e7ois\u2019. A curse upon the hour he took it! Fran\u00e7ois\nwould never ask it back--never accept it, most likely, Gaston felt.       460\nBut Marie would never consent to keep it. No, and she would grow to\nhate him in spite of herself for having come between her and Fran\u00e7ois,\nand forced her to break her troth to him. His life, that was so bright\nand rich, how dark and wretched it had become within these last few\nhours! And was there no rescue from it all? Yes. He had only to speak\na word, and he was saved. Let him start off now, before Marie knew of\nFran\u00e7ois\u2019s return, and meet _les bleus_, and they would come quietly\nto the presbytery, and take him away in the night, and there would be\nan end of Fran\u00e7ois for ever, and of the misery he was going to cause.\nTreachery? Bah! His was the treachery to come back after being as good\nas dead all this time. Was it a crime to have married Marie, when he\nleft her three whole years without a word of love or a sign of\nexistence? She was happy now, but if once she saw Fran\u00e7ois she would\nnever know happiness again. The sight of his misery would fill her\nheart with remorse, and break it. What right had Fran\u00e7ois to go away\nat all when he knew that Marie loved him? It was no doing of Gaston\u2019s\nthat; he wanted to go in his stead. Would that he had! But now he was\nto be a ruined, blighted man to the end of his days. And to what\npurpose? To save Fran\u00e7ois from being shot a little sooner than he\nmight be; for so surely as he had a head on his shoulders, so surely\nwould he have a bullet through it some day. No one would be the worse\nof his having it to-morrow instead of a month hence or a year, and two\nhuman beings would be considerably the better of it.\n\nGaston had flung himself on a snow-heap by the side of the river, his\nface buried in his arms, while he worked out his wrongs and his despair\nto this conclusion. Fran\u00e7ois must die. There was no other way out of\nit. Once he brought his mind to face this alternative and close with\nit, there was no time to be lost, and it would be dangerous to go over\nthe ground again. He must act at once if he were to act at all. Gaston\nshook the snow from his arms, and sprang to his feet. But a change had\ncome over the scene, and he could hardly realize that it was the same\nhe had surveyed in the dim white darkness half an hour previously. The\nheavy bank of cloud had melted away; only one small patch remained,\nfringed with silvery rays that lighted up the sky like the glory of a\ntabernacle; all round it myriads of stars were twinkling in the liquid\ndepths of blue, and gazing on their own brightness in the steel-blue\nmirror of the Loire, that trembled lightly as the golden shafts shot\ndown through it and illuminated its cold, pure bosom like a second\nheaven. Presently, the moon came out, not \u201cpale for weariness of\nclimbing\u201d the steep sky, but radiant and beautiful, and shone serenely\nin the clear December heaven, and all the world was bathed in silvery\ntwilight. The solemnity of the scene thrilled through Gaston\u2019s soul,\nand made his pulse beat with an unknown fear; but it was the ennobling\nfear with which nature inspires us in her sublimest aspects--the\nreverent awe that uplifts the soul, not the guilty terror that casts\nit down, paralyzing and debasing it.\n\nHis ghastly project cowered before him like a fiend dragged from outer\ndarkness into the splendor of God\u2019s sunshine. The divine beauty of the\nworld without rebuked and annihilated the foulness of the world\nwithin. No base or treacherous thoughts could contemplate the purity\nand glory of that starry splendor, and not perish. It drew the earth      461\nheavenward, and made all things grand and solemn. The meek, low hills\ngrew mighty and majestic; they stretched their pure white peaks to\nkiss the stars, soaring high above the haunts of men, as if they\nscorned the earth, and would have naught in common with the pettiness,\nthe guilt, and the folly that had their dwelling on the plain. The\nvery silence had a voice in it more powerful than thunder. It rang\nwith inarticulate harmonies through Gaston\u2019s soul--mysterious,\nunuttered whisperings, as of angels hovering to and fro, brushing the\ncrystal twilight with their wings.\n\nAnd were there not angels near him in his hour of struggle? Did he not\nhear them pleading at his heart, touching his storm-tossed spirit with\ntheir loving, beseeching eyes, weeping, perhaps, over the impending\nruin of his God-imaged soul? Surely, if angels ever weep, earth has no\nmisery more worthy of their tears. And were they less powerful than\nthe fallen spirits who were fighting against them for the noble prize,\nor did they love God\u2019s human creature less than the fiends hate him?\n\nGaston called to mind the days long ago, when he was an innocent\nchild, and prayed every night to his angel guardian before lying down\nto sleep, and believed that the beautiful benign spirit stood at the\nright side of his little cot, watching him while he slept. It was many\na day since he had prayed, but now the words came back on him with a\nstrange, impelling power, and played upon his heart like the notes of\na long-forgotten melody. They rose to his lips, but he choked them\ndown. He could not let them pass. Whom was he to speak to--an angel?\nThere was a gulf between the Judas that he was to-day and the unsullied\nlittle child who used to breathe that prayer in an angel\u2019s ear.\n\nGaston felt the scene was subduing his soul to a dangerous softness,\nand unnerving him for his purpose. What a fool he was to stand there\nmoon-gazing! He turned his back on the river and the hills, and strode\nhomeward at a rapid pace. He tried to sing, but his voice jarred like\na discord on the holy silence, and he checked himself. It was near ten\nwhen he re-entered the village. Every house was closed and quiet, but\nnot asleep. This was Christmas eve. The children were put to bed with\nmany a promise that they should be called for midnight Mass, but most\nof the elders were watching, saying their rosaries, or singing\n_cantiques_ in family groups while awaiting the summons of the bell to\ngather round the crib of the new-born King. Gaston saw the lights\ngleaming from many windows, and wished them out. He had no mind to be\nseen prowling alone in the snow at this time of night, and on such a\nnight, so he crept on stealthily under the shadow of the cottages,\ntill he came to his own gate. He dreaded meeting Marie, and having to\nanswer her questions as to why he had been out so long. But perhaps\nshe would ask no questions. Was she really so pale when he met her\nthat time, or was it his terrified fancy? Anyhow, she could not know\nyet for certain that Fran\u00e7ois was here, whatever fears or hopes--yes,\nGaston must use the word--the gossip that had reached her ears may\nhave suggested. But on entering the bright, spacious kitchen where the\ntable was spread for supper, all its pewter and delft glancing in the\nlight of the pine-logs that blazed merrily in the broad chimney, he\nsaw no one but old Gervoise, sitting bolt upright in her high-backed\nchair in the chimney-corner, and nodding significantly at the knitting    462\nthat lay on her knees. The noise he made drawing a stool to the fire\nawoke her. He asked where her mistress was, and Gervoise told him that\nMarie had come in for a few minutes and then gone out again, and that\nthey were not to expect her home that night, as the child was worse.\nHe was glad of her absence; yet it frightened him. Was it a\npretext--was she shrinking from him, afraid or loath to meet him! At\nany rate, it changed his intention of starting at once; he decided\nthat he would wait till all the village was up and astir for midnight\nMass, and then he would slip off and ride hard, so as to reach\nChapelle-aux-lys and be back again before daylight and Marie\u2019s return.\nHe said he did not care to eat anything, and went up to his room. He\nlocked himself in, lighted his lantern, and pulled out the fatal\nmoney-bag; he felt he must strengthen himself by the sight of the\ngold, and count over his treasure once more, to make sure it was worth\nthe price he was going to pay for it. This done, he flung himself\nundressed on the bed, and, worn out by the conflict of the last few\nhours, was soon sound asleep. But he had not been asleep long before\nhe was aroused by a long knocking at his door, and a rough voice\ndemanded admittance. Gaston sprang to his feet.\n\n\u201cWho\u2019s there?\u201d he said.\n\n\u201c_Les bleus._ Open in the name of the republic!\u201d and the speaker dealt\na blow on the door that nearly broke it in.\n\nGaston opened without further parley, and six men entered the room.\n\n\u201cWhat do you want?\u201d he asked.\n\n\u201cWe want one Fran\u00e7ois L\u00e9onval who is concealed in this house. Tell us\nwhere to find him and we will go, and do you no harm; but if you try\nto shirk it--\u201d The man swore a brutal oath, and pointed his pistol at\nGaston\u2019s head.\n\nBut Gaston L\u00e9onval had a Vend\u00e9an\u2019s spirit withal. It was not to dastardly\npersonal cowardice that he would betray his brother; he felt the cold touch\nof the muzzle on his forehead, and, quietly pushing it aside, he told the\nman he might search the house, and he wished him joy if he found what he\nwas looking for. \u201cWe had better begin by the outhouses and the garden,\u201d\nsaid the one who seemed to take the lead; \u201ctwo of you stay inside to\nprevent any tricks, while we are outside.\u201d And he left the room, followed\nby all but one soldier, who remained to mount guard over Gaston.\n\nBut a safer and stronger sentinel was keeping watch by the wretched\nbrother, urging him with terrible power and show of reason to say the word\nthat would free him for ever. Only an hour ago, he was resolved to run\ngreat risks to say it, and now he had only to make a sign, and run no risk\nwhatever, and he could not bring himself to do it. Confound that moonshine!\nIt had made a woman of him. He went to the window and looked down into the\ngarden to watch the proceedings of the soldiers. Then he heard them\nsearching the rooms below, banging doors and overturning everything, and\npresently the officer came up-stairs again.\n\n\u201cHearken, _mon gar\u00e7on_, it\u2019s no use trying to play hide-and-seek with\n_les bleus_,\u201d he said, \u201cyou won\u2019t find it answer. Now, once for all,\nwhere is this Fran\u00e7ois L\u00e9onval?\u201d\n\n\u201cI tell you he\u2019s not here,\u201d replied Gaston doggedly; \u201cif he was, you\nwould find him.\u201d\n\n\u201cMost likely, if we had time to lose hammering at the walls and hunting   463\nup the chimneys; but _les bleus_ have a more expeditious way of going\nto work. When we can\u2019t bag our game, we fire it. So walk out, and we\nwill set a light to the house and make a little Christmas bonfire for\nyou. If he\u2019s a coward, he\u2019ll soon cry _merci_! If he\u2019s a brave man,\nwhy he\u2019ll go out in a blaze, and that\u2019s as good a death as another. So\nhere goes, give me the light!\u201d\n\nHe seized the lantern, took out the socket, and deliberately advanced\ntowards the bed.\n\n\u201cHold!\u201d cried Gaston, clutching his outstretched arm; \u201cthe man you are\nin search of is not here; he is at the presbytery.\u201d\n\nThe _bleu_ laid down the light.\n\n\u201cStay here,\u201d he said to the soldier who had remained in the room; \u201cwe\nwill whistle for you when it\u2019s time to join us.\u201d\n\nHe descended the stairs quickly, and Gaston heard the door close, and\nsaw the five figures disappear down the road. After that he seemed to\nfall into a sort of stupor, and stood without moving hand or foot,\nstaring stolidly out of the window, while the soldier waited in\nsilence for the promised signal. It came at last, wounding the silence\nlike the hiss of a snake, and Gaston knew that his brother was in the\nhands of the torturers.\n\nNo sooner was he alone than a legion of demons seemed to people the\nroom, filling it with hideous forms and voices, mocking and scoffing,\nand asking him what he had done with his brother. He stamped in rage,\nand dashed his hands through his hair, and began to walk rapidly up\nand down. But the spectres kept pace with him, grinning and hooting\nand repeating with maddening iteration: \u201cWhat have you done with your\nbrother?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat had he done with him?\u201d cried Gaston aloud--\u201cwhy, only what\nFran\u00e7ois would have done with himself sooner or later. And was he to\nlet his house be burnt down and his gold melted to postpone the day\nperhaps for twenty-four hours? Pshaw! what an idiot he was to take on\nso about it. It was all that whistle that set his nerves on an edge.\nWhy did it keep on hissing and hissing? The _bleus_ and their capture\nwere half a mile out of ear-shot by this. Fate had been good to\nGaston, and served him much better than he could have served himself.\nIt had taken the matter out of his hands, and he had been no more than\na passive agent in its grasp, in the grasp of law and might--ay, and\nright too. When Fran\u00e7ois came back like a simpleton and thrust his\nhead into the lion\u2019s mouth, what could he expect but that it would\nclose on him and crunch him? It was over now. Marie would never hear\nof his return and need never curse the day she gave her hand to\nGaston, and Gaston might sleep in peace, and without being haunted by\nterrors of his brother\u2019s return.\u201d Thus did he argue with the fiend and\nstrive to beat him off, and stifle remorse that had entered his soul,\nand was gnawing at him with fierce, relentless tooth. But it would not\ndo. Across the legion of fiends there flitted visions of the past,\nthat he could not shut his eyes to, struggle as he would. First, there\nrose before him a curly-headed little brother whose small arms were\nround Gaston\u2019s neck, clasping him as they lay in a little cot beside\ntheir mother, breathing softly in sweet child slumber; then he beheld\na frank, bright boy kneeling with him beside that mother\u2019s death-bed,\nwhile she blessed them and promised to meet them in heaven. Then the\nboy was a youth who stood with his hand on Gaston\u2019s shoulder, and\nlooked into his eyes, and said: \u201cBrother, I trust thee as I trust my      464\nsoul!\u201d This faded away, and he saw the same youth bronzed and\nwar-worn, and betrayed in his manly trust, but still holding out his\nhand to Gaston, and saying with the well-remembered voice, now husky\nwith the strong man\u2019s agony: \u201cI do not blame thee, brother; God\u2019s will\nbe done!\u201d Slowly but vividly the visions rose before Gaston\u2019s soul,\nand he could not but look on them, and, as he looked, sweet memories\nof his childhood rushed upon him like a torrent and bore him down; his\nboasted courage was gone, his pride, his love, his gold melted away\nlike false phantoms, and he was alone with his sin and his despair. He\nremembered Fran\u00e7ois\u2019 noble unselfishness, his truth, his grateful love\nof their common mother, his reverence for her lightest wish; he\nremembered his many acts of kindness to the poor and the suffering,\nand how he had seen him followed by blessings from the old and young\nwhom his generosity had helped and comforted; and oh! bitterest of all\nwas the memory of their parting, when Fran\u00e7ois gave him his little\nhoard in trust, and bid him take care of Marie. And this was the\nbrother he had sold! O God! It was all too horrible to be true. Gaston\nseized the bag of gold, rushed from the house and into the stable,\nand, without waiting to saddle her, leaped on his mare\u2019s back, and\ndashed off in pursuit of _les bleus_. They were only six, and he had\ngold enough to buy them if he only came in time. The mare flew as if\nshe knew what hung on her speed, dashing up the snow that spattered\nher flanks and enveloped her rider in a moving cloud as they galloped\nalong. The moon was still magnificent, and the stars shone down with\nthe same calm splendor--the patient, far-away stars that 1793 years\nago rang out the glad tidings to the watchers on the hills of Judea:\nGlory to God! Peace to men! Gaston, as he flew past the scene of his\nrecent struggle, felt a chill of supernatural terror freeze him to the\nmarrow of his bones. The stars stooped down till they seemed to touch\nhim, and pierce him with needles of fire; the hills, the stern,\nuncompromising hills, shook their pale brows at him, and turned and\nran with him through the waste of snow; and above them, from the\nbattlements of heaven, rang out a myriad voices in ecstatic song:\nGlory to God! Peace to men! But ever and anon, breaking the high\nharmony of that song, came a shriek as of a mocking fiend: \u201cWhat hast\nthou done with thy brother?\u201d\n\nThe mare took a longer stride and put out her strength with a sudden\nincrease of vehemence as they came to a turn in the road where it\ncrossed the river and rounded the base of the hills. Gaston\u2019s heart\nleaped up to his throat, as he caught the hammering of hoofs ahead.\nThank heaven! he was in time. The horsemen came in sight. They\nslackened their speed, nay, they were dismounting now. Out in the open\nroad with no shelter of any sort in sight? What did it mean? The mare\nstrode on. A few more pulls, and she would be up with them. Gaston\ncould distinguish the trim figures of the soldiers and Fran\u00e7ois\u2019s\nloose peasant dress. But now he lost sight of them; they had moved\nbehind a hedge. Only for a moment. The six slim figures emerged from\nthe snowy foreground, and six muskets gleamed horizontal in the\nmoonlight.\n\n\u201cHold! in the name of heaven, hold!\u201d shrieked Gaston.\n\nHe flung down the bag, that burst and sent the gold rippling on the\nground--but it was too late; there was a rattle, and flash followed       465\nflash, as he sprang from his horse and rushed between the murderers\nand his brother. Fran\u00e7ois lay prostrate, writhing in the snow, that\nhis blood was turning to crimson. Their eyes met for one moment, and\nthen Fran\u00e7ois\u2019 closed for ever. Gaston fell on the body with a cry\nthat was like the shriek of a condemned soul; and then he felt a hand\non his arm.\n\n\u201cThere are the midnight bells sounding,\u201d said old Gervoise, in a\nquerulous voice. \u201cI have been calling to you through the door these\nten minutes, and you wouldn\u2019t awake. I thought you were dead, so I got\nmy own key and opened it.\u201d\n\nGaston, dazed and terror-stricken, and doubting still whether he was\ndreaming or waking, started up, and told Gervoise not to wait for him,\nthat he would follow her in a minute. Then he fell upon his knees, and\nprayed as a soul might do who had passed the gate \u201cwhere hope enters\nnot,\u201d and been snatched back from the dark abyss.\n\n\u201cIt was a vision to save me from the crime of Cain. Blessed be the\nmercy that has rescued me!\u201d\n\nHe lighted a candle, opened a drawer in which he kept some writing\nmaterials, and sat down with a pen in his hand. He hid his face in his\nhands, and his lips moved convulsively in prayer for a moment, and\nthen he began to write. It was not long. He did not read the letter\nover, but sealed it with a broad red seal, and then, with that strange\nforce of habit that asserts itself so unaccountably in moments of\nsupreme emotion, he carefully replaced the pen and paper in the\ndrawer. After this he laid the letter on the table in the middle of\nthe room, and, taking his coat and cap, sallied out into the night.\n\nThe Christmas bells were ringing out their welcome to the new-born\nKing, tripping in silver-footed chime on the midnight silence, grave\nand merry, full of glad pathos and exulting hope, and forebodings\nsolemn and tender. And the hymns and anthems of the villagers answered\ntheir call and swelled the chorus of the chimes; but the voice of a\nnoble sacrifice that went up from Gaston\u2019s heart mingled in diviner\nharmony with the pure joy-jargon of the bells. He entered the church,\nbut, instead of going up to his accustomed seat, he stood near the\ndoor, half concealed by the angel holding the _b\u00e9nitier_. He saw the\nstream of familiar faces flow in and take their places, and then turn\nwith eager expectation toward the sacristy. The well-trained voices of\nthe choir, unsustained by harp or organ, intoned the glorious hymn,\n_Adeste Fidelis_, and old and young answered in loud-voiced chorus:\n_Venite adoremus, Venite in Bethlehem!_ The altar was wreathed with\nlights and flowers, every pillar and picture-frame sparkled with the\nred-berried holly; the little lowly crib with its suggestive imagery\nglowed with crimson lamps; and before it the loving prayer of simple\nhearts made a fitting welcome for the Child that was born in poverty,\nand first worshipped by shepherds. As midnight struck, the door of the\nsacristy opened, and Monsieur le Cur\u00e9 in his grandest vestments came\nforth; but before the door had closed again, Gaston caught sight of a\nfigure kneeling furtively behind it. He gave one long look at the\ngolden door of the tabernacle, signed himself with the sign of the\ncross, and slipped out of the church.\n\nEarly on Christmas morning, a horseman rode in from Chapelle-aux-lys\nwith a letter for M. le Cur\u00e9! It was signed _Loison, soldat de la\nR\u00e9publique_; and its purport was to inform him that one Fran\u00e7ois          466\nL\u00e9onval, who had born arms for nearly four years against the republic,\nand taken refuge the day before at Chamtoc\u00e9, whither the soldiers of\nthe republic were bound in pursuit of him, had, in order to prevent\nthe shedding of innocent blood, left his native village in the night,\nand of his own free will given himself up to justice. He had died like\na soldier, worthy of a better cause, and had begged the writer to bear\nhis last words to the cur\u00e9 of Chamtoc\u00e9, which were that he was happy\nto give his life for God and the king; and he prayed a blessing on his\nbrother, and Marie his sister-in-law, and begged them and the cur\u00e9 to\nbe mindful of him in their prayers. He fell crying _Vive Dieu et le\nRoi!_ which treasonable words had been enough to shoot him again if he\nwere alive; but being dead, the writer, who respected a brave man,\nthough he was a traitor, conveyed them in fulfilment of his promise to\nFran\u00e7ois L\u00e9onval.\n\nSoon after this event the Reign of Terror came to an end. The fertile\nfields of La Vend\u00e9e smoked once more under the furrowing ploughshare,\nand peace and plenty smiled upon the land. Absent ones returned to\ngladden many hearts, and to tell the story of their short and\nwonderful campaign, and brought back glory-laden banners, tattered and\nblood-stained, to hang in the village church, as trophies of Vend\u00e9an\nvalor, to show future sons of La Vend\u00e9e how their fathers had fought\nthe good fight. Once more there was marrying and giving in marriage,\nand toil and prosperity reigned in Chamtoc\u00e9.\n\nWhen the winter snows had twice melted off the hills, and the\nsnowdrops peeped up under the grimy hedges, like white-robed little\nchoristers singing their glad good-by to the winter, and the lusty\nyoung spring had laid his emerald finger on the earth, the bells rang\nout their full, exhilarating peal, and a gay procession wound its way\nto the church, where Monsieur le Cur\u00e9 in his surplice and stole\nawaited the bridal train. His voice shook, and big drops rolled down\nhis aged cheeks, as he laid his hand on the two bowed heads and called\ndown the blessing of the God of Abraham on Marie and Fran\u00e7ois L\u00e9onval.\nThis was his last ministration. He tarried long enough to bless the\nmarriage of his two best-loved children, and then he went home. They\nlaid him to rest beside a humble grave that was always freshly decked\nwith flowers. It bore a white stone cross and a marble slab, on which\nit was recorded that Fran\u00e7ois L\u00e9onval in life was a brother with a\nnoble heart, and in death a martyr who had died for a noble cause, and\nthat, like his Master, \u201chaving loved his own, he loved them to the\nend.\u201d\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n                THOUGHTS FOR THE WOMEN OF THE TIMES.                      467\n\n                       BY ONE OF THEMSELVES.\n\n\nThe woman of the nineteenth century owes all the advantages of her\nsocial position to the Catholic Church.\n\nThe disadvantages of that position, which are more or less justly the\ncauses of discontent and complaint, are the natural fruits of\nProtestantism.\n\nFor many centuries, the church maintained a severe conflict against\ninfluences, principalities, and powers, which must have baffled the\nefforts of any but a divine institution, to rescue woman from the\ndepths of degradation into which the iniquities of heathenism had\nthrust her. It required the superhuman patience and energy of a system\nanimated by divine charity and sustained by omnipotent power to\nprosecute the struggle successfully, and to place woman in the\nposition for which she was designed by her Creator. So far as she has\nsince preserved the high relations with her Maker, with the family,\nand with society which were achieved for her by that struggle, it has\nbeen by virtue of the same power that first effected her elevation.\n\nThe divided and antagonistic forces of Protestantism have been as\nadverse to the interests of woman as it was possible for disjointed\nelements, acting discordantly, to be. Fortunate has it been for her\nthat the very discrepancies of its moral elements have operated in a\ngreat measure to neutralize its influence. Since the days when the\nfirst Reformers (?) pronounced the result of a solemn debate in their\ndecision that the Landgrave of Hesse-Cassel might live with two wives\nconjointly without compromising his character as a good Christian under\nthe _new religion_, and those of England exulted in the action of\nHenry VIII. when he repudiated the saintly Catharine of Aragon--for\ntwenty-five years his faithful and lawful wife--and took the wanton\nAnne Boleyn in her stead, the general tendency of Protestant influence\nhas been to rob woman of the dignity with which the church had\ninvested her, by loosening the obligations of the marriage bond and\ndiminishing the sanctity of the conjugal relation. If it has not\nentirely succeeded in degrading her to be the mere victim of man\u2019s\ncapricious whims, it has done what it could. Want of harmonious action\nbetween its constituent parts has been the best protection\nProtestantism has afforded to woman against this result. The boasted\n\u201cprogress\u201d--originating in the revolt against divine authority\nexercised through the church--so far as it affects the condition of\nwoman, has been steadily in this direction, especially during the\npresent century.\n\nWomen are conscious of this. They are aware that the ground upon which\nthey stand is becoming, year by year, less and less firm, the\nguarantees of their rights more and more feeble and inoperative, while\nthe chances of a conflict for gaining a more secure footing are\nstrongly against them. But while they are keenly alive to these facts,\nthe cause for their existence is an enigma they have not yet\nsolved--its remedy, a contingency they have not reached even in\nconjecture.\n\nThey could not be persuaded that it is the boasted \u201cspirit of the age\u201d\nwhich is in fault; that its irrepressible tendencies are to raise one     468\nclass by depressing another, and to create a countless multitude of\ntastes and wants which can be gratified by none but the favored class\nwho are the possessors of great wealth.\n\nThey fret vainly--beating against the little that remains of ancient\nbulwarks erected to shield them, as if by destroying these their\ncondition would be improved--and indulge an idle dream that women\u2019s\nsuffrage will remedy the evils, real or imaginary, of which they\ncomplain. \u201cLet us vote,\u201d they say; \u201clet us have some voice in\nregulating our own affairs, and, if we do not succeed in shaping them\nentirely to our wishes, we shall at least reduce the number and weight\nof our grievances, be enabled to open new channels through which we\ncan attain the independence we desire, and, by making our presence\nfelt as an element of the body politic, be acknowledged as an existing\nfact that is of some importance to the nation.\u201d\n\nIt is indeed an idle dream! The mind of every intelligent person must,\nupon a very little reflection, discover innumerable reasons why woman\nmust cease to be woman, wife, and mother, before she can exercise the\nelective franchise to any purpose.\n\nAs a true American woman, we cannot regard the clamor which has been\nraised upon the subject of woman\u2019s rights with the entire contempt it\nhas met in many quarters. There is an invisible current of sad and\nmournful facts underlying this agitation.\n\nIf \u201cmaterial prosperity\u201d is the key-note of Protestantism--as the\ntestimony of its own writers would seem to prove--the development of\nmaterial comfort and luxury is its highest expression. In all the\nappliances, arrangements, and habits of our domestic and social life,\nthere has been a constant and alarming increase of expense during the\npast fifty years. New fashions have been invented, new wants created\nand multiplied, so rapidly that the supply, never exceeding the\ndemand, has altogether exceeded the means of a great majority of our\npeople. The few who were able to indulge in each novelty as it\nappeared have gone to surprising lengths; while the many, whose\nrevenues were wholly inadequate, have strained every possible resource\nto keep pace with their wealthy leaders in expensive follies. Crime,\nbankruptcy, widespread ruin, and desolation have followed, of course.\nMultitudes have been left in poverty, with all the habits, tastes, and\naspirations which wealth alone can gratify, and of these multitudes a\nlarge proportion are women. Accustomed to affluence, they are\ndetermined not to accept poverty--the synonym for _disgrace_ in their\ncircle--and eagerly cast about them for some avenue of escape. Hence\nthe frantic efforts to obtain entrance into new paths, hitherto\nuntrodden by woman, for securing the object of their ambition.\n\nWoman has a right to be all that her Maker designed when he created\nher as a \u201chelp\u201d to man. He is not of more importance to society in his\nown place than she in hers. He would not render himself more\nridiculous by forsaking his own duties and avocations for the care of\nthe household, the kitchen, and the nursery, than she would by\nabandoning these for the public employments of men. The present state\nof affairs is sufficiently deplorable, but I do not see how such an\nexchange would mend the matter. Nor can we see any remedy, but by\nreturning to old-fashioned ways. Very comfortable ways they were, too,\nhowever disdainfully the Flora McFlimsys of modern times may toss         469\ntheir pretty befrizzled heads at the mere mention of them.\n\nWhat sensible woman would not prefer the happy solitude of a Eug\u00e9nie\nde Gu\u00e9rin--whereof her pen discourseth so eloquently that even the\nchickens fed by her hand seem to the reader like birds-of-paradise--in\nher beloved Cayla, to all the magnificent bleakness, splendid\nmiseries, and heart-burning rivalries too often enclosed within the\nwalls of a palace on the Fifth Avenue?\n\nThere are still further causes of uneasiness for women.\n\nTwenty-four years of security in Catholic certainties, and in the\nenjoyment of such countless consolations as flow from the acceptance\nof Catholic verities and guidance, have not obliterated from our\nmemory the discomforts formerly experienced from some of these.\nAmerican women cannot abide the patronizing and condescending tone\nassumed by the men of society toward them. For our own part, the air\nof lofty contempt for which it was exchanged after our profession of\nthe Catholic faith was truly refreshing in comparison. They want no\nsuch ostentatious toleration. They glory in the consciousness that\nwoman may claim as inalienable a right to be sharply criticised as men\nenjoy, and have no thanks for such forbearance and namby-pamby\nnonsense as would be extended to a spoiled child. Nor would men offer\nit, if they possessed the robust hardihood and manly frankness of\ntheir grandfathers.\n\nThese women, many of them intelligent and thoughtful, are restless\nwith an unrest which comes from being tossed upon the heaving waves of\nvague uncertainty from point to point, without the power to attain any\nfixed position.\n\nMen regard their efforts to gain _terra firma_ with a blending of pity\nand contempt--in which the contempt is ill concealed and largely\npredominates--and the question whether a party rope shall be thrown\nout to draw them ashore, only to offer them before the car of some new\npolitical Juggernaut, hangs in the balance. Woe to the women of\nAmerica should that question be decided in the affirmative!\n\nIn all the perplexing \u201cchanges and chances of this mortal life,\u201d it is\nmuch to stand upon the firm basis of a well-defined and secure\nposition, with the assurance that, so long as one is true to the\nduties and requirements of that position, a power fully competent to\nsustain its own guarantees is pledged to shield and protect it in\nevery exigency.\n\nThis is the situation in which the Catholic woman is placed at the\npresent juncture. She occupies an elevated standpoint, from which she\ncan watch with great serenity and confidence all the strifes and\nagitations, moral, social, and political, that convulse this\nnineteenth century. She knows that the firm and consistent action of\nthe church of Christ, as the champion and protector of woman\u2019s rights,\nfrom the period of its first establishment to the present time, is a\nsufficient assurance of its future course; and she need not fear that\nan institution through which the Almighty sways the moral forces of\nthe world so potently as to bring to naught the raging of the heathen,\nand render all the fractional efforts of Protestantism powerless, will\nprove a broken reed to lean upon in the hour of danger.\n\nBut the church requires from her daughters a _quid pro quo_. Nor does\nshe leave them in doubt as to its character. Every duty of the\nCatholic woman of whatever age, relation, or state in life is so          470\nsimply and clearly defined for her, that to mistake or err is\nimpossible, except through wilful dereliction: For the child,\nreverence and submission to parental authority; for the maiden, humble\ndevotion to the plain everyday duties of home, and a modest reserve\nthat seeks the seclusion from which she must be\n\n                            \u201cWooed,\n          And not unsought be won\u201d;\n\nfor the married woman, respect for him who is \u201cher head, even as\nChrist is head of the church\u201d; entire devotion to his spiritual and\ntemporal interests; and a loyal fealty to the sacred gift of\nmaternity, by which the First Great Cause brings her into most\nintimate communion with himself; permitting her through its penalties,\nas one of Eve\u2019s daughters, to offer her portion of expiation for the\nsin of that first parent, before his holy altar. For the mother, this\ntender Mother of souls provides abundant consolations and counsels in\nevery hour of need, with measureless grace and strength to enable her\nto discharge perfectly every duty towards the young immortals\ncommitted to her keeping.\n\nIn no feature of the maternal care and solicitude with which the\nchurch surrounds her daughters is the contrast with the cold neglect\nand indifference of Protestantism more striking, than in the treatment\nextended by each system to those women who remain in a state of\ncelibacy.\n\nThe condition of such under the Protestant _r\u00e9gime_ is truly pitiable,\nand the very title of \u201cold maid,\u201d with rare exceptions, entails odium\nand contempt more surely than moral depravity.\n\nHence the dread entertained by the girl in Protestant society for a\nsingle life, and the universal impression that to be married is the\nfirst great object of her existence. Alas! that escape from the sacred\nbut irksome duties involved in that step should too frequently be the\nnext!\n\nEven mothers encourage their daughters in this view of the matter, and\nenter into their conspiracies for securing husbands with misguided\nzeal. Very little reflection is devoted to the question whether the\nparties are suited for each other, or the mutual attachment\nsufficiently strong to enable them to bear jointly the numerous and\ninevitable trials which pertain to every state and condition of life.\nThe attention is chiefly directed to considerations of a widely\ndifferent character, relating wholly to pecuniary affairs. It is a\nmost singular fact, in connection with this phase of our subject,\nthat--the great _desideratum_ once secured--the young wife too\ngenerally begins at once to regard and treat the husband whom she has\nbeen so anxious to gain as the adversary to her interests and\nhappiness, instead of adopting the old-fashioned idea that he is her\nbest friend. Strange as it may seem, this is a very common mistake in\nthese days, and the source of much domestic discord and misery.\n\nA lovely young mother--one of the fairest and most intelligent\nspecimens of the modern American woman whom we are so happy as to\nknow--said to us, the other day: \u201cMy boys are well provided for in any\nevent, and, if they were not, they could fight their way in the world\nlike others; but, I assure you, I shall bestir myself to make such\nprovision for my girls as will secure them from being ground to powder\nby their husbands!\u201d\n\nThis from a most devoted and exemplary wife, happy in a husband who\ndotes upon her, was sufficiently surprising.\n\n\u201cBut,\u201d said we, \u201cyou would not on any account have your daughters         471\nremain unmarried; and would you be willing to give them to men with\nwhom you would not trust their money?\u201d\n\n\u201cAh!\u201d she replied, \u201cI should prefer to rely upon their securing\nrespect and good treatment with plenty of their own money at command,\nthan with an empty purse.\u201d\n\nWe sighed as we inquired mentally if it could be that our American men\nwere really becoming so mercenary, and, recalling the old-fashioned\ndoctrine of perfect community of interests between husbands and wives,\nmarvelled much whether families governed by such maxims, and homes\nregulated from the start upon such a footing, would more abound in the\ndesirable elements of old-fashioned comfort than those wherein the\nwife ruled, as of yore--yea, and supremely, too--by the old, old\nfashion of _love_!\n\nThe Catholic maiden of advanced age has a place as secure, and a\nsphere of action as respectable, in Catholic society as the married\nwoman, nay, the very spirit and effect of her religion is to ensure\nfor her increased respect on account of her vocation to celibacy. We\nknow of many beautiful instances where such persons are the beloved\nand guiding spirits of households embracing all ages, and the\nbeneficent patrons of their neighborhoods.\n\nIf she is favored with a vocation to a religious life, how many homes\nare open to her happy choice, where affection, honor, and countless\nopportunities for the exercise of angelic virtues and charities await\nher!\n\nVerily, the Catholic maiden need not despair if she has no vocation\nfor matrimony! She knows she does better in remaining single than she\nwould in entering the married state without such vocation. These\nquestions are, therefore, made the subjects of long, serious, and\nprayerful consideration. The Catholic wife enters that state,\nforewarned and forearmed for all the painful trials and anxious cares\nit involves, with the full knowledge that she can evade none of them,\nhowever trying to flesh and blood or irksome to her tastes and habits,\nand remain guiltless in the sight of the Arbiter of her destiny,\nbefore whose tribunal she appears as often as she approaches the holy\nsacrament of penance.\n\nShe takes up the tender and healthful delights of maternity with joy.\nand bears its pains and penalties with cheerful courage and patience.\nAlready the Catholic mothers of America may glory in the fact that\ntheir children will form a very large proportion of the future\ncitizens of our great republic. Let them, then, rise to the level of\ntheir destiny. Let them see that those children are thoroughly\ninstructed in the principles of their religion. No station is so\nhumble and no lot so hard as to prevent the mother from teaching the\nchildren God has given her, if she is earnest in her wish to do so. In\nno way can her boys be better prepared for exercising their elective\nfranchise intelligently, and no one can deny that a woman\u2019s suffrage\noffered through a fine group of boys will be far more efficient than\nher single vote.\n\nCatholic women are inexcusable if they do not put aside the\nallurements of the world, spurn the glittering kaleidoscope of\nfashionable vanities, and, clinging with ever-increasing affection and\nallegiance to the ancient and mighty Mother, who is their best, their\nonly sufficient, friend and protector, keep themselves aloof from all\nthe agitations that distract their less favored sisters in the\nfruitless attempt to build up woman\u2019s rights upon the ruins of her        472\nancient safeguards.\n\nWoman\u2019s suffrage--should they obtain it--will only betray their feet\ninto a political slough, and bespatter them with political defilements\nfrom which none but an omnipotent power can rescue and cleanse them.\nWoman has everything to lose and nothing to gain in this movement,\nfor, after all, men will manage affairs to suit themselves. The\nAlmighty pronounced no idle decree when he said to the woman: \u201cThou\nshalt be under thy husband\u2019s power, and he shall have dominion over\nthee.\u201d\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n                                EVER.\n\n\n             The steadfast gaze brings out the star,\n                   That, like an eye\n                   Set in the sky,\n             Its sweet light shedding from afar,\n             At morning dawn, and still at even,\n                   The night alway,\n                   And livelong day,\n             There twinkles ever, deep in heaven:\n\n             Thy constant prayer so reacheth Love,\n                   That, like the star,\n                   Seeming so far,\n             Its glad strength sending from above,\n             To youth\u2019s fair dream, and memory\u2019s smart,\n                   To grief\u2019s sad moan,\n                   And joy\u2019s sweet tone,\n             Aye burns for us, deep in God\u2019s heart.\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n                        THE HOUSE OF YORKE.                               473\n\n\n                            CHAPTER XIX.\n\n                            HALCYON DAYS.\n\n\nHaving given their consent to Edith\u2019s engagement, the Yorkes\nimmediately adopted Dick Rowan as their own. They were not people to\nbe friendly by halves. Even Melicent was propitious, and, when she saw\nwith what pleased surprise he met her advances, became still more\namiable. Clara, who lived in a rarer atmosphere, effervesced more\nreadily, and could not enough praise her cousin\u2019s _futur_. Hester\ninsisted that he should leave the hotel, and stay at her house. She\nwas completely won by the almost boyish affection and respect with\nwhich he treated her husband, his first and only former friend in\nSeaton, and by his fondness to her children.\n\nMrs. Yorke, beginning by talking with, in order to study him, and know\nthoroughly what sort of man she had promised her niece to, found\nherself growing affectionate toward him, and not only probing his\nmind, but unfolding her own. In after-years she remembered these\nconfidential interviews as an honor, which, at the time, she had\nscarcely appreciated. The young man told her all his hopes and plans,\nasked her advice in everything concerning Edith, and listened eagerly\nwhen she explained to him the needs and habits of a delicately bred\nlady.\n\n\u201cMy poor mother is the only woman I have ever lived in the house\nwith,\u201d he remarked; \u201cand, of course, she was not able to be dainty.\u201d\n\nHe said this rather sadly, but without a taint of humility. Mrs. Yorke\nwas impressed by the dignity of that character which would not be\nashamed of anything but its own wrong-doing.\n\nOne confidence led to another, and Dick was afterward surprised on\nrecollecting that he had related the story of his whole life to\nEdith\u2019s aunt, and spoken more freely to her of his early struggles and\nsufferings than even to Edith herself. Not only this; but, seeing\ntears in her eyes when he told of his father\u2019s despairing efforts to\nreform himself, and hearing the pitying word she spoke for him whom\nothers had mocked, he told her the end of it all, and where that\nfather\u2019s desolate grave had been made.\n\n\u201cYou poor, dear boy!\u201d she exclaimed, holding out her kind hand to him,\n\u201cI don\u2019t wonder that Edith loves you!\u201d\n\n\u201cI do not pretend to understand the designs of God,\u201d Dick said\nunsteadily. \u201cWhen I think of my father, all is a mystery. But for\nmyself, I think I can see that suffering was good. My nature is to go\nstraight to any end which I propose to myself, without much regard for\nthe wishes of others, and no regard for ordinary obstacles. I might\nhave been cruel, I should have been selfish; but suffering has taught\nme to be more tender of other people.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d Mrs. Yorke said; and, recollecting her own early trials,\nthought that they had helped her to be more pitiful of his.\n\nThen, led on by her sympathy for him, she told her own past, there on     474\nthe spot where it had occurred.\n\nThese confidences drew the two together, and formed a bond which was\nnever broken.\n\nA man\u2019s manliness can scarcely bear a severer test than when he\nbecomes the pet of woman. One is sometimes astonished to see how\ncharacters, apparently fine, deteriorate under that insidious\ninfluence. But Dick Rowan was too grateful and modest, and too little\nselfish or vain, to be injured.\n\n\u201cHe is not quite like us,\u201d Mrs. Yorke said, \u201cbut he is more natural\nand original, and is, altogether, a remarkable young man. Edith has\nreason to be proud of his homage. He certainly behaves exquisitely\ntoward her.\u201d\n\nMr. Yorke, refusing to be influenced by feminine raptures, was fain to\ntake the young man out of the house, in order to talk with him\nuninterruptedly. He displayed the improvements he had made in the\nplace, his avenues, now as hard as cement, his terraces, smooth and\ngreen with turf of velvet fineness. There were vines here and there,\ndisposed for effect, like drapery in an artist\u2019s studio, and many a\nflower which bloomed now for the first time under Seaton skies. They\nstopped at last beside a clover-plot, thick with crowded trefoils and\nblossoms. Its surface was unsteady with bees, musical with a low hum,\nand all the air was sweet with the breath of it.\n\n\u201cIf I were not disgusted with Seaton,\u201d Mr. Yorke said, \u201cI should like\nto spend my summers here, and carry out my plans for the place; but\nwhen we go away, probably in October, I shall never wish to see the\ntown again. There is no security here.\u201d\n\nDick leaned thoughtfully on the fence, and watched the bees come and\ngo over the clover, and took off his hat to shake his hair loose in\nthat fragrant air. \u201cI think, sir, that Seaton may be in future all the\nbetter for this trouble,\u201d he said slowly. \u201cThe tone of the place is\nlow, I know that well, but it is in a fair way of becoming ashamed of\nitself, and so, of mending. When people have wrong ideas, and stand by\nthem stubbornly, I like to have them go on, and find out for\nthemselves what their principles lead to. Conviction reaches them then\nthrough their own experience, and so you hear no more about the\nmatter. It is, of course, a slow way, but it is sure.\u201d\n\nMr. Yorke made a grimace, and quoted President Mann: \u201cGod Almighty is\nnot in a hurry, and I am.\u201d\n\nCarl had gone to Bragon. He went quite unexpectedly, the day Dick\nRowan came, and did not see Edith\u2019s lover till he had been a week in\nSeaton. He came home one evening after tea, when the young people were\nin the cupola, looking down the bay, for the _Halcyon_. They waved\ntheir handkerchiefs to him, and his mother ran out to meet him.\n\n\u201cMy dear son!\u201d she exclaimed, embracing him as joyfully as if he had\nbeen gone a year. \u201cI would not watch for you, lest I should be\ndisappointed. I pretended I did not expect you. But you may know what\na hypocritical pretence it was when I say that your supper is all\nready, though, to be sure, breakfast, dinner, and supper have been\nkept for you every day.\u201d\n\nWhile speaking, she led him into a little northern parlor, which was\ntheir summer dining-room.\n\nCarl looked at his mother with a smile, but tears rose to his eyes. He\nwas not one to take even a mother\u2019s devotion as a matter of course,\nand just now he found it peculiarly touching.\n\nMrs. Yorke looked very frail and lovely as she sat opposite her son.      475\nHer snowdrop of a face, the pale blue scarf knotted loosely about her\nneck, with fringed ends hanging over her white dress, the fall of lace\nfastened to her hair by a rosebud--all made a pretty picture. To the\ninherent loveliness of the mother, she added the charm of the\nexquisite lady.\n\n\u201cIf you do not need that apostle behind your chair--\u201d her son\nsuggested.\n\nShe immediately dismissed Paul Patten; and Carl was free to say, \u201cNow\ntell me the state of affairs. The engagement I take for granted; but\nhave I got to endure the spectacle of a pair of cooing lovers? I would\nrather leave the country.\u201d\n\nFor a moment Mrs. Yorke was too much occupied to give any reply but a\nsmiling shake of the head. Eating was one of the fine arts with her,\nand she made a point of having the circumstances of that odious\noperation as artistic as possible. Having placed an accurate square of\ncurrant jelly on a glass plate, where it lay like a ruby block stolen\nfrom Solomon\u2019s hidden treasures, and filled a gorgeous Japanese cup\nwith coffee, into which she put a tiny cube of loaf-sugar and a\nspoonful of cream, she was ready to speak.\n\n\u201cThere is no necessity for any such banishment, my dear. Edith is very\nfriendly to him, but she surrounds herself with a fine reserve which\nhe could not break through if he would. I could as soon fancy a\ngentleman approaching familiarly the Queen of Sheba. They are very\nlittle alone together.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat delicious coffee!\u201d Carl exclaimed, and immediately began to tell\nsome incidents of his journey.\n\nWhen they heard the others coming down-stairs, they went to meet them.\nMelicent came first, with Mr. Rowan, and all saw with pleasure that\nthe two young men met not only with courtesy, but friendliness. Carl\u2019s\ninvariable, haughty silence whenever Dick Rowan\u2019s name was mentioned\nhad given them some uneasiness regarding the meeting. Indeed, could\nthey have found fault with him for anything, it would have been for\nwhat they considered this excess of pride.\n\nThe two passed on, Clara following, and, quite in the rear, came\nEdith, alone. She was half-smiling, and came slowly down, step by\nstep, with a touch of feminine coquetry as innocent and natural as the\ntricks of a playful kitten, lingering as he waited. Yet her bright\ncheeks and shining eyes told that the approach was a delight.\n\nBut for some reason, Carl chose to be displeased all at once, and, by\na slight change of attitude and expression, to be waiting, not to\ngreet her, but to go up-stairs.\n\n\u201cPardon me for being so slow,\u201d she said, becoming instantly a\ncourteous lady. \u201cI think I am getting old and dignified. The wings\nhave gone from my feet.\u201d\n\nThe _Halcyon_ had come, and the Yorkes immediately made the\nacquaintance of its master. Dick and Edith went down to the ship to\nsee him, and persuaded him to go home to tea with them. The big,\nbashful sailor was not accustomed to the society of ladies, and had\nthe impression that there was something cabalistic in good-breeding.\nBut he found himself quite at ease with the family, after a while, and\nwas convinced that they were not aware of the few blunders he\ncommitted in the first embarrassment of meeting them. Some diversion\nhad always taken place at precisely the right moment to screen him,\nand soon his self-possession was quite restored. He left the house        476\nthat night highly pleased with his visit.\n\n\u201cThey seem to me perfectly kind and natural people,\u201d he said to Dick,\nas they walked through the woods together. \u201cYour Edith, it is true, is\nrather grand, but in a sweet, child-like way, and Miss Melicent seems\ndisposed to be a little on the high horse once in a while, but not\nmuch. I always thought that accomplished ladies were more airy, but I\ndon\u2019t see that these do any great things.\u201d\n\n\u201cTrue,\u201d Dick answered; \u201cbut mark the things which they do not do.\u201d\n\nThey were much together after that, and Mrs. Yorke and her daughters\nwent on board the _Halcyon_, and were entertained there. Carl had been\nafraid to have his mother venture on board the ship, and had charged\nhimself especially with the care of her, but his solicitude was not\nneeded. He was both pleased and amused by the simplicity and\ntenderness with which their gigantic host smoothed every smallest\nobstruction from her path and spared her every exertion. There had\nbeen a momentary flash of angry surprise when he saw his mother lifted\nover an obstructing timber in Captain Cary\u2019s arms; but the sailor\u2019s\nface was so absolutely anxious and kind, and Mrs. Yorke laughed so\nmerrily over the _na\u00eff_ gallantry, that he instantly perceived the\nfolly of resenting it.\n\n\u201cMy dear,\u201d Mrs. Yorke whispered to Clara, \u201che is like one\u2019s\ngrandfather, grandmother, and all one\u2019s aunts and uncles, in one. It\u2019s\na pity he hasn\u2019t a wife, he would be so good to her.\u201d\n\nClara blushed slightly. She had been thinking some such thought\nherself.\n\nThe intercourse gave the Yorkes a fresh and novel sensation. It was so\ndifferent from anything they had ever had before, and, at the same time,\nso pleasant. It came like a breath of pure sea-air into a warm and\nscented drawing-room. They were not so mummified by convention that\nthey could not appreciate this simple, unconventional nature, in which\nthey found a noble delicacy.\n\nCaptain Cary listened with indignation to the story of their Seaton\nexperiences. An autocrat on board ship, and completely his own master\neverywhere, he could not comprehend how one part of a community could\nexercise such tyranny and coercion over the other. \u201cIt seems to me\nthat the Catholics must have done something out of the way,\u201d he said.\n\u201cThere\u2019s usually fault on both sides, you know, though no fault would\njustify such a persecution.\u201d\n\n\u201cThere is just the trouble,\u201d Mr. Yorke replied, rather impatiently.\n\u201cIt is so easy for people, who wish to be fair, and, at the same time,\nnot put themselves to the inconvenience of investigating, to say that\nthere is probably fault on both sides, and then fancy that they have\ndone justice. On the contrary, they may have done great injustice, and\nhave, certainly, rendered a careless and slipshod judgment. For there\nare cases where the fault is all on one side, and other cases where,\nthough in the end there may be fault on both sides, the responsibility\nreally rests on the one who was the aggressor, and provoked the other\nbeyond endurance. I am not blaming you, sir; but I am always anoyed by\nthat off-hand way of saying, \u2018There\u2019s probably fault on both sides.\u2019\nIf people don\u2019t know, let them say they don\u2019t know, and not give any\njudgment at all. I do know, and I say that no provocation was given,\nand the Catholics have been only too supine.\u201d\n\n\u201cThere have been times, Captain Cary,\u201d Edith said, \u201cwhen I have wished    477\nthat you were here. I know you would have been on our side.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat I would!\u201d he answered heartily, looking at her with a kind\nsmile. The two were great friends. \u201cAnd I would have left my mark\nanywhere you told me to strike.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt was a shame to waste you on a merchant-ship,\u201d Clara said to him.\n\u201cYou should have been an admiral.\u201d\n\nThe sailor gave one of his great laughs, which always made Mrs. Yorke\njump and flush. \u201cWe big fellows are not always fond of fighting,\u201d he\nsaid. \u201cWhen I was a boy, I had two younger brothers about half my\nsize, and either of them was a match for me. I was so peaceable that I\nwas called Mother Cary\u2019s chicken, and I believe it was that nickname\nthat first put it into my head to go to sea. No, I\u2019d rather fight wind\nand wave than men. I could attack a man if he were doing anything\nabsolutely wrong; but to kill him because he belonged to a foreign\nnation, and carried a different flag, that would be too cold-blooded\nfor me.\u201d\n\nThe two sailors, with Edith and Clara, visited the Catholic school,\ncarrying gifts for the children and encouragement to the teacher.\n\n\u201cYou look so worn, dear friend,\u201d Edith said. \u201cI wish you would give\nup, and come to Boston with us.\u201d\n\nThe teacher shook her head. \u201cI cannot give up,\u201d she said.\n\nCaptain Cary complimented Miss Churchill in his own fashion: \u201cWe call\nthat a pretty sharp ship that will sail within four points of the\nwind,\u201d he said. \u201cBut I hear that you have been making way with the\nwind in your teeth.\u201d\n\n\u201cI have not made much headway,\u201d she answered, smiling, \u201cbut only held\nmy own. I am anchored.\u201d\n\nCarl accompanied them up Irish Lane, on Sunday afternoon. They called\nat several houses, and talked with and encouraged the inmates. It was\na help to these poor souls to have some one to tell their troubles to.\n\u201cBut what shall we do when you are all gone?\u201d they asked mournfully.\nTo them, the expected departure of the Yorke family from Seaton was a\nmisfortune second only to the banishment of their priest.\n\nTheir situation was, indeed, a cruel one. It was not alone the\ncontumely to which they were subjected, and the being unable to hear\nMass, but their sick and dying were deprived of the sacraments, and\ntheir infants were unbaptized. Yet no harsh word escaped them.\nScarcely one seemed to recollect their persecutors. They were\nsuffering for the faith, and it was God\u2019s will--that was their view of\nthe position. The instruments which God used to try them, they thought\nbut little of. Carl Yorke went home thinking that he had heard better\nsermons that afternoon than he had ever before heard in his life.\n\nFather Rasle\u2019s continued absence was not voluntary. He would fain have\nreturned to his flock, in spite of Mr. Yorke\u2019s and Miss Churchill\u2019s\nletters, but his superior added a command to their advice, and he was\nforced to restrain his zeal.\n\n\u201cTell my people that I never forgot them,\u201d he wrote to the teacher.\n\u201cEvery day at Mass I pray for their deliverance. It cannot be long\nbefore I shall visit them. Meantime, let them give their enemies no\npretext for further injury.\u201d\n\nTo Edith he wrote:\n\n\u201cYour desire to _act_ in behalf of these persecuted people is natural,\nbut I must forbid you. You may safely follow the advice of such good\npeople as Mr. and Mrs. Yorke. But do not fear that, because you are\ninactive, you therefore are useless. I visited once, in Europe, a         478\nspot where a temple had stood. Nothing was left of it but a few broken\nfragments lying about, and a single beautiful pillar that stood alone.\nWas that pillar useless? No; in its way, it was very eloquent. No one\ncould look upon it without trying to fancy what the whole edifice\nmight have been; and you may be sure that the traveller\u2019s imagination\ndid its best in rebuilding that temple. So, now, you shall be the\nlittle caryatid of the church in Seaton. You have the gift of silence:\nuse it. Be as obedient and quiet as that solitary column, and let the\nworld guess from you how fair must be that structure of which you are\na part.\u201d\n\nEdith turned from the window, where she had stood to read her letter,\nfolded her arms up over her head, and said to Dick Rowan, sitting\nthere, \u201cCan you fancy me supporting an entablature?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d he answered; \u201cfor then there would have to be others like you.\u201d\n\nEdith blushed, and dropped her arms; for they were all looking at her,\nand their faces, as well as Dick Rowan\u2019s answer, reminded her that she\nwas beautiful. She gave him her letter to read, and went to sit on the\nwindow-sill beside Clara, and listen to the talk of the three\ngentlemen on the piazza. The two families were dining together that\nday, and Mr. Yorke, with his son-in-law, and Captain Cary, were\nsmoking their cigars outside. Inside the window nearest her husband,\nMrs. Cleaveland sat in a low, broad arm-chair. A nurse in a white cap\nhad just placed on her knees Hester\u2019s second son, an infant of six\nmonths old. As it lay slowly and deliciously waking up, both nurse and\nmother gazed down upon it with adoring eyes. Master Philip, this\nbaby\u2019s predecessor, was hiding his face in one arm of his mother\u2019s\narm-chair, being in temporary disgrace. Original sin was very strong\nand active in this child. He was full of vitality and determination,\nand just at that age when will is pretty well developed, and memory\nand understanding still dormant--the age for childish atrocities.\nThere were moments when the child\u2019s life was a burden to him, by\nreason of the great number of things which he wished to do, and meant\nto do, and could not remember that he must not do. He had a chronic\ndesire to pull out the baby\u2019s eyelashes, \u201ceye-winkeys,\u201d he called\nthem, and to make it smile in season and out by violently drawing the\ncorners of its mouth round toward its ears. Whenever an infantine\nshriek was heard, it was always understood that Master Philip was in\nsome way accountable. Another fancy of his was to poke holes in paper,\nor any delicate and easily perforated fabric, with his plump\nforefinger. He could have no greater pleasure than to seat himself,\nwith some precious volume before him, and go gravely and industriously\nthrough it in this way, leaf by leaf, from cover to cover. There was,\nindeed, a long list of indictments against this unhappy child. The two\nlittle forefingers tied together behind his back, and a dilapidated\nbook lying on the carpet, showed plainly enough what his offence was\nat this time.\n\nIn the background, Carl was telling marvellous stories to the\nculprit\u2019s half-brother, Eugene; and Mrs. Yorke and Milicent, in the\ncentre of the room, were coaxing some account of his adventures from\nDick Rowan. He had to be persuaded before he would speak much of\nhimself.\n\n\u201cIsn\u2019t he magnificent?\u201d Clara whispered to Edith, meaning Captain Cary.\n\nThe sailor had been describing an arrowy little craft, the                479\n_Humming-bird_, in which he had once darted in and out of the Chinese\ncoast, smuggling opium in the very teeth of an English man-of-war.\nSeeing the addition to his audience, he threw the end of his cigar\naway, and moved his chair nearer the window.\n\n\u201cHow I should like to be a sailor!\u201d exclaimed Clara with enthusiasm.\n\nCaptain Cary leaned forward, with his arms on his knees, in order to\nbring himself more on a level with the young ladies. \u201cAnd how would\nyou like to be a sailor\u2019s wife?\u201d he asked.\n\nAlthough he had the greatest possible admiration for Miss Clara Yorke,\nand considered her by far the cleverest young woman he had ever known,\nit would be safe to say that the thought of going any further than\nthat had never entered his mind, till he saw the flash of eyes and\ncolor with which she received his question. The effect was electrical.\nHe straightened himself up again, and, in the first break of that\npossibility, did not hear her saucy but rather tardy reply: \u201cThat\ndepends on who the sailor is.\u201d\n\nThe man was confounded between terror, rapture, and astonishment.\nClara\u2019s look had seemed to show that such a consummation was not\nimpossible to, at least, think of--that it had, perhaps, occurred to\nher own mind. True, she was most likely to scorn the thought; but, for\nall that, a momentary vision danced before his eyes of what his life\nwould be if he had a woman of his own to love and serve. That the wife\nof his choice should serve him, never occurred to this generous soul.\nHe could at any time have married a common person, whom most people\nwould have thought good enough for him; but there was in his nature a\ncapacity for tender worship which made him shrink from such an\nalliance.\n\nPresently, Edith\u2019s cool voice stole through the chaos of his mind.\n\u201cYou can go to sea with Dick and me, Clara.\u201d\n\nThe sailor started, and fell from the clouds. His face became\novercast, and, with a deep sigh, he seemed to renounce a\nlong-cherished hope.\n\nWith a laugh and a toss of the head, Clara rose from her lowly seat,\nand, stepping out through the window, began to promenade up and down\nthe garden-walk. She saw through this great, transparent creature\nperfectly, and was amused, and she knew not what else. One could not\nbe angry with the fellow, she said laughingly to herself. She had been\nlooking up to him with enthusiasm, as to some antique bronze or marble\nArgonaut, or other hero of simpler times. Now that was changed, and\nshe was on the pedestal, to be worshipped by him. It was preposterous,\nbut not altogether disagreeable.\n\nMeantime, Captain Cary was confiding his distress to Edith. \u201cI hope\nthat your cousin didn\u2019t think I was fool enough to dream of her being\nmy wife,\u201d he said, looking down. \u201cWhat I said was a slip of the\ntongue, and I didn\u2019t know the drift of it myself till I saw how she\ntook it.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! never mind,\u201d Edith answered. \u201cClara is always jesting, and\ntwisting people\u2019s meaning. She knew you meant no such thing.\u201d\n\nHe sighed, and said no more.\n\nIf Clara had expected the sailor to watch her, she was disappointed.\nHe went into the parlor, and when, later, she entered, brilliant with\nexercise and mischief, he was sitting by Carl, and listening with as\nsober a face to the stories that young man was telling Eugene\nCleaveland as if he were listening to a sermon. Clara passed near\nthem, to hear what it might be which produced such solemnity in the       480\nman and such a trance of interest in the child.\n\n\u201cThen,\u201d Carl was saying, \u201cTaurus sent to the Great Bear to say that he\nshould like to have something out of the golden dipper about the\nmiddle of the next month, for all the little stars would grow dim\nabout that time, and need something to polish up with. And the Bear\nsaid, \u2018All right! but the dipper hangs so high on the celestial pole\nthat you will have to pay me a good deal to climb up to it.\u2019 And\nTaurus answered, \u2018All right!\u2019 And then the Bears set slyly to work to\ngrease the pole, so that the dipper should slip down, and they get\ntheir pay without work; and Taurus he set to work to push the dipper\nhigher up, so as to get more work than he had agreed to pay for; and,\nmeantime, all the poor little stars languished, and grew dim. And then\nOrion got mad, and brought a lot of little dippers, and gave each of\nthe little stars a full one. And the stars grew bright and glad. But\nthe Bulls and Bears, finding that they were both beaten, didn\u2019t feel\nglad. The Bear began to bite his own paws, and the Bull went for\nOrion, and tried to toss him. But Orion laughed, and put up his\nshield, and called his dogs, and--\u201d\n\n\u201cUpon my word, Carl,\u201d says Clara, \u201cI think you put the stars to base\nuses when you set them to gambling in stocks. Have you told Captain\nCary of our projected sail down the bay?\u201d\n\n\u201cPoor Clara!\u201d Melicent said, joining them. \u201cWe are planning some\nlittle pleasure-trip to distract her mind. You do not know, perhaps,\nthat the Philistines are upon her?\u201d\n\nThe sailor did not understand, but looked so inquiring and solicitous\nthat Clara explained to him.\n\n\u201cI published a story ages ago,\u201d she said, \u201cand the editor of the\n_Cosmic_ has just become aware of it. He found it lately among the\n_d\u00e9bris_ of his writing-table. The authoress, he says, has shaken\nup a few fancies in a kaleidoscope, and calls them life. They are\nabout as much like life, he adds, as Watteau\u2019s shepherdesses are like\nreal shepherdesses, or as Marie Antoinette\u2019s housekeeping at the Petit\nTrianon, with ribbons tied round the handles of silver saucepans, was\nlike real kitchen-work. Still, he concludes, the story is amusing, in\nspite of its pinchbeck ideal, and, when the writer is older, she will,\ndoubtless, do better. The musty old metaphysician!\u201d exclaimed Miss\nClara, warming with the subject. \u201cI once read a paragraph in one of\nhis articles, and found it comical. I had never seen any of the words\nbefore, except the articles and prepositions. My first impression was\nthat he had made them up, for fun. I found them all out in the\nunabridged dictionary, though. They were real words, but I have\nforgotten what they mean.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo much the better!\u201d said Melicent. And then followed a controversy\non the subject of learned women. Melicent denounced them as unwomanly;\nbut Melicent was neither a student nor well read, and there might be a\ndifference of opinion as to cause and effect in her case. Mr. Yorke\nmocked _les savantes_; but Mr. Yorke adored a wife whose literary\nacquirements were of the most modest kind, and he had once, in a\nnever-forgotten argument, been worsted by a clever woman. Captain Cary\nwas of opinion that clever and learned women were not fit wives for\ncommon men. At that, Clara took up the gauntlet with great spirit.\n\nClever women did not wish to marry common men, she said. And there\nwere plenty of uncommon men who were not jealous of them. She disliked    481\nall this hypocritical talk about the beauty of simplicity and humility\nand submission in women. The real meaning of it was not Christian, but\nMohammedan.\n\n\u201cFor me,\u201d Mrs. Yorke interposed, \u201cI think that some women should be\nlearned, in order to appreciate learned men. If the wife of a scholar\ncould not understand and sympathize in her husband\u2019s love of books and\nwhat they teach, she would soon grow jealous of them, and he would\nmiss what should be his sweetest homage.\u201d\n\n\u201cNow, is not there an orthodox woman?\u201d Mr. Yorke exclaimed with\ndelight. \u201cThe sole use she can conceive of a woman\u2019s having for\nlearning is that she may be better able to appreciate her husband.\u201d\n\nEdith glanced past Carl, and looked with arch inquiry at Dick Rowan.\n\nHe was perfectly self-possessed, and spoke even with a slight air of\nauthority. \u201cI believe the true superiority of woman to be in\nreligion,\u201d he said; \u201cand, if she has that, it is no matter whether she\nis learned or not.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut is not your view somewhat ascetical?\u201d asked Carl Yorke. \u201cWe are\nsupposing that this life is something. Looking at the question in that\nlight, I would say that no one has the right to dogmatize one way or\nthe other. Let each woman follow the bent of her own mind, and be as\nlearned as she will. I only stipulate that she shall not be\nloud-voiced nor disputatious, but wear her learning with a grace, as\nan ornament, not a weapon, though she may use it as a weapon when\nthere is need. I would have woman wear erudition, as Mrs. Browning\nsays men wear grief who have worn it long:\n\n                    \u2018As a hat aside,\n          With a flower stuck in it.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd while your erudite wife is gracefully adjusting her ologies, who\nis to see to the bread and the buttons?\u201d Melicent asked, rather\nsneeringly.\n\n\u201cOh! those everlasting buttons!\u201d Clara cried out, and put her hands\nover her ears.\n\n\u201cThe servant, probably,\u201d Carl replied to Melicent. \u201cIf a woman could\ngive some thought to those things also, well and good, but I should\nnot choose a wife for such a service. I would rather have her help me\nto polish a sentence or pose a figure than cook my dinner or mend my\nstockings, unless we were so poor that labor was absolutely necessary.\nI should be ashamed to see my wife performing menial services for me.\nI would as willingly see her at work in the field as bringing me my\nslippers.\u201d\n\nCarl had scarcely time to see the look of beaming approval in Edith\u2019s\neyes, before his sight and hearing were both temporarily lost in\nClara\u2019s rapturous embrace. \u201cYou are perfect!\u201d she cried, kissing him.\n\u201cYou are of the progeny of Apollo! I am so glad to have that slipper\ntheory upset; for I never saw a woman bringing her husband\u2019s slippers\nfor him without feeling a contempt for her. I don\u2019t believe that any\none ever admired such a piece of mean servility, except the lazy Turk\nwho allowed it to be done for him.\u201d\n\nWhile they laughed at Clara\u2019s enthusiasm, Dick Rowan said to Edith, \u201cI\nquite agree with your cousin. I mean all that he means, and more.\u201d\n\n\u201cBy the way,\u201d Carl said carelessly, as he went toward the door, \u201cI am\nnot Edith\u2019s cousin, nor in any way related to her.\u201d\n\n\n                            CHAPTER XX.                                   482\n\n                            THREE SONGS.\n\n\nCaptain Cary had been three weeks in Seaton, and was to sail in two\ndays for New York, where the _Halcyon_ was sold, taking Dick Rowan\nwith him. From New York, Dick was to sail immediately, on a three\nyears\u2019 voyage, in the _Edith Yorke_. The captain did not say\ndefinitely what his own plans were, perhaps did not know them himself.\n\u201cI did think of settling down on shore,\u201d he said to Mrs. Yorke. \u201cBut\none person doesn\u2019t make a home, and all my people are dead. I\u2019d half a\nmind to ask Rowan to take me as a passenger. He has a splendid ship.\u201d\n\nThey were all in the garden that last evening but one. Edith sat on a\nbench beside Melicent, and looked intently at Dick Rowan, who was\ntalking with Clara and Mrs. Yorke. She was thinking over all his\ngoodness, all his affection for her, studying his personal beauty, his\nfrank, bright face and athletic form, and trying to excite in herself\nsome enthusiasm regarding him. Carl stood near, listening to, but not\njoining in, the conversation. She compared the two young men. Their\nheight, their form, were very nearly the same; but Carl had the proud\nand measured tread of one bred to the parlor and the promenade, Dick\nthe free and springing step of the mountaineer. This was distinctive,\nyet each had moods like the other. On the deck of his own ship, the\nsailor trod like a king; and the man of the world could bound as\nlightly up a steep, or vault as lightly over an obstacle, as though\nhis life had been spent in athletic sports. Dick Rowan\u2019s eyes sparkled\nlike the ripples of his own blue sea, and looked _at_ people, not\nthrough them; Carl\u2019s careless glance could become piercing and keen as\na two-edged blade. It was useless to compare them, the one as direct\nand transparent as a child, the other noble, indeed, yet subtle, as\none aware of the world\u2019s ways, and guarded at every point.\n\n\u201cI must be very hard and cold,\u201d Edith thought, finding herself\nunmoved, in spite of her efforts. \u201cOr, perhaps, it may be because I\nhave always known and been sure of him.\u201d\n\nLooking her way, Dick met that steady gaze, and flushed with pleasure.\nIf the expression was grave and regretful, what then? Were they not\nabout to part? He led Mrs. Yorke to her, and the others followed, to\nmake arrangements \u201cfor a sail they were to have the next day.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou had better wear dresses that wetting will not hurt,\u201d Dick said;\n\u201cfor you will be likely to get a little scud-water in your laps.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd, pray, what is scud-water?\u201d Mrs. Yorke asked.\n\nDick explained that it was spray blown off.\n\n\u201cHow pretty!\u201d exclaimed Clara. \u201cYou may fill my lap with it.\u201d\n\nThey separated again, and Dick was left with Edith.\n\n\u201cWhat shall I bring you from Calcutta?\u201d he asked.\n\n\u201cBring me Dick Rowan safe back again,\u201d was the answer.\n\nBoth were silent a little while, then he spoke in a quiet voice: \u201cAsk\nGod to do that, Edith. He has been so good to us, I think he will\nrefuse nothing.\u201d\n\nShe looked at him wistfully. \u201cAre you very happy, Dick?\u201d                  483\n\n\u201cHappy!\u201d he exclaimed. \u201cDear, my very finger-nails shine! Edith, I am\nso happy that I should be afraid, if I would allow myself to be. But,\nno; I will trust God when he gives me joy, as well as when he gives me\npain.\u201d\n\nWhile they talked, Mrs. Yorke was walking aside with Clara, and\nquestioning her. \u201cWhat is the matter with Captain Cary?\u201d she asked.\n\u201cHe has grown very sober lately.\u201d\n\nClara laughed, rather consciously. \u201cHow should I know, mamma?\u201d\n\nMrs. Yorke looked displeased. \u201cI wish for a frank answer,\u201d she said.\n\u201cWhat is the meaning of this? It isn\u2019t possible that there has been\nany trifling on your part!\u201d\n\nThe girl blushed deeply, but told what little there was to tell,\nincluding that unlucky question: \u201cHow would you like to be a sailor\u2019s\nwife?\u201d\n\n\u201cHe hadn\u2019t the slightest personal meaning, mamma,\u201d Clara added\nhastily, seeing her eyes open with something like a flash. \u201cHe told\nEdith afterward that it was a slip of the tongue.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen why should not that have been the end of the matter?\u201d Mrs. Yorke\nasked, rather peremptorily. \u201cYou had but to assume that such a thing\nwas impossible, not to be thought of, and be just as courteous to him\nas before.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut you see, mamma,\u201d Clara replied, looking a little frightened, \u201cit\nisn\u2019t as impossible as it is unlikely. Stranger things have happened\nin the world, and will again, and the world is and will be no worse\nfor them. You know I have never been able to acquire the fine art of\nassuming that ninety-nine facts make a truth.\u201d\n\n\u201cMy dear,\u201d said the mother with precision, \u201cplease not to be\ngrandiloquent. Let us confine ourselves to the case in hand. Your\nsublime generalizing has done you very little credit if it has led you\nto disturb the peace of a good honest man, and put our own delicacy in\nquestion. Coquetry is not only cruel, it is mean and vulgar. Of course\nyou are ready with the childish excuse that you meant no harm. That is\nnot enough for one who has arrived at years of discretion and has a\nconscience. You must mean something one way or the other.\u201d\n\nClara\u2019s eyes were suffused with tears. \u201cI think that you misunderstand\nme, mamma,\u201d she said in a low voice. \u201cI was never in my life so much\npleased to have any one like me.\u201d\n\nMrs. Yorke stopped, and looked at her daughter in astonishment.\n\n\u201cOh! I know all that you would say, mamma,\u201d the girl went on, half\nlaughing, half weeping. \u201cHe is a sailor, which is as if a bird should\nsay, \u2018He is a fish.\u2019 He has only a common-school education, as far as\nbooks go, and he has none of our ways. But all that doesn\u2019t make his\nesteem any less worth having. Men of the world often give only a tame,\nhalf affection, and are, perhaps, almost sorry when they are accepted.\nThey think of themselves, they think of a thousand other things: he\nwould think of me. When Edith sang, the other evening,\n\n          \u2018Oh! wert thou in the cauld blast,\n\nI saw his eyes fill with tears. He would take all the roughness, and\ndanger, and hardship, I know. But men of the world are as dainty as\nwomen. If they give us the inside of the pavement, and let us enter a\nroom first, they have gone the length of their chivalry. Then, there\nis the effect on myself. In the society of such a man\u201d--glancing to       484\nwhere Captain Cary stood--\u201cI should be gentle and feminine. But with\nthe wilted specimens of humanity I see ordinarily, I am in imminent\ndanger of becoming a strong-minded woman. One must keep up a balance,\nmamma, and it is weak men make bold women.\u201d\n\nMrs. Yorke sank on to a bench. \u201cWhat do you mean to do? What am I to\nthink?\u201d she exclaimed.\n\nClara laughed. \u201cDon\u2019t be afraid, mamma. If this Neptune should offer\nhimself to me--he will not!--I should refuse him, and then cry my eyes\nout afterward. But if he should take me by force, pirate-fashion, and\nrun away with me, so that I could not help myself nor be responsible,\nI should be delighted. Now, don\u2019t say any more about it, please.\u201d\n\nMrs. Yorke threw off her fears with a shrug of the shoulders. It was a\nmere theory. It was one of Clara\u2019s enthusiasms. \u201cWell, my dear,\u201d she\nconcluded, rising, \u201call I have to add is that I hope your admiration\nof the rough diamond will not lead you to consume it in the blowpipe.\u201d\n\nAnd so the subject dropped.\n\n\u201cThere is a party of Indians camping out on the Point,\u201d Mr. Yorke said\nto them that evening. \u201cYou might find it interesting to visit them\nto-morrow. I met one in the woodland, this morning, cutting down a\ntree for basket-wood. I asked him who gave him permission to cut trees\non my land. \u2018It was all ours once,\u2019 he growled out, and gave me a look\nthat I shouldn\u2019t like to meet, unless I had friends near. I told him\nto take all he wanted.\u201d\n\nThe little sailing-party, only six with a sailor from the _Halcyon_ as\nassistant, started early in the afternoon. The crew of the _Halcyon_\ngave them a hearty cheer as they slid down past the wharf where she lay;\nthe fresh breeze, blowing off shore, smoothed the waves, and,\noverhead, light clouds ran races with them. Out of one cloud, that\nseemed scarcely a hand\u2019s breadth, a shower of large, sun-lighted drops\ncame clattering down. In the midst of it they reached the Point, and\nstepped out on to the rocky shore. A clumsy old Indian woman had just\nkindled a fire, and piled brush over it. Not a spark was visible, but\nthick white smoke gushed out through the green, curled over into a\nshifting Corinthian capital, and rose into air, and in another instant\nit topped a shaft of flame. The woman took no notice of the visitors\nstanding near her, but stood tossing twigs into the fire. Her face was\nugly, her dress careless, but her small brown hands and moccasined\nfeet were models of beauty. Two or three men were lying about lazily,\nwaiting for their dinner, and a mischievous little girl was weaving a\nbasket. She alone noticed the strangers, the others wore a look of\ndisdainful unconsciousness. The ladies talked with the child, and\nbought baskets of her; the gentlemen made themselves acquainted with\nthe elders, and found them not insensible to the charms of tobacco and\ncoffee. Under these persuasive influences, their taciturn hosts\nmelted, and became almost friendly. Presently, another Indian appeared\nfrom the woods, came straight toward them, and dropped a long string\nof quivering, rainbow-colored trout at the old woman\u2019s feet. A\nwhispered exclamation broke from the lips of the visitors as they saw\nthis dusky young Adonis. The Greek outlines, with more than Grecian\nrichness of color, the plumy, clustering hair, from which a few\nraindrops slid as from a bird\u2019s wing, the eagle eyes, the fanciful\ndress, beaded and fringed, that air of superb repose and                  485\nunconsciousness which civilization only imitates, but does not\nattain--all were fascinating and _unique_. He stood one moment as some\nexquisite bronze, then stepped lightly over the springy moss, lifted\nthe fold of a tent, and disappeared. This was her brother, Philip\nNicola, the little girl told the ladies, and her name was Malie. Edith\ngave the child an Indian prayer-book, prepared by their patlias; then\nthe party embarked again, spread their sail to the breeze, and sped\ndown the bay.\n\nDick Rowan, standing to unfurl the sail, sang out joyously, in a\nclear, ringing voice, an old French song:\n\n         \u201c\u2018Si le roi m\u2019avoit donn\u00e9\n             Paris sa grand\u2019 ville,\n           Et qu\u2019il me fall\u00fbt quitter\n             L\u2019amour de ma mie,\n           Je dirois au roi Henri:\n             Reprenez votre Paris,\n           J\u2019aime mieux ma mie, oh, gay!\n             J\u2019aime mieux ma mie.\u2019\u201d\n\nEdith turned her head aside, and watched their sparkling wake subside\nto a milky path. If she was pleased, no one could see. But as they\napproached that low, sandy island that three of them had visited\nbefore, she rose, and leaned on Dick\u2019s arm, and gazed on it with him.\n\n\u201cGod have mercy on him!\u201d they whispered; and both Dick and the captain\nremoved their hats, and remained uncovered till they had passed by.\nThe others did not know what it meant, but they asked no question, and\nsoon all was gay again.\n\nThey landed a few miles down the bay, wandered awhile on the shore,\ntook their luncheon there, and sat to see the sun go down, reddening\nall the water. Then a bright pallor succeeded, tingling with unseen\nstars, and the bay became a silver mirror. The breeze went down with\nthe sun, and only a soft breath out of the south pressed their sail\nas they started to return. Between two fleckless, transparent abysses,\nthey floated, as through ether, and might, it seemed, be drawn up or\nsink down at any moment. The night deepened, and became a crystalline\ndarkness, with stars above and stars below, and then the east grew\nradiant with a soft aurora.\n\nAs the light increased, they saw a speck on the water, and, leaning\nlow, Captain Cary espied Philip Nicola in a bark canoe, dancing across\nthe bay, skimming the water like a bird. The imp of mischief, or of\nvanity, seemed to possess the fellow. He shot across their prow, so\nnear as almost to catch the foam it threw up, he zigzagged ahead of\nthem, he slid into their wake on one side, and flew past them on the\nother. Lastly, he dropped far behind, and they heard him singing over\nthe water. The song was some wild chant in his own language,\npiercingly sweet, and full of a barbarous pathos and power. As they\nlistened, convention dropped from them like a garment. They were\nsimple children of nature, and creation was full of mysteries for\nthem.\n\nA golden splendor filled the east, a disk of burning gold showed above\nthe woods, and kindled their feathery tops, a crinkling flame ran\nround every ripple of the bay, and their prow tossed off sparks\ninstead of foam. Then the moon sailed majestically upward, and made an\nenchanted day about them. As she rose, the blue of the sky drew back,\nlike the fold of a curtain, and left a pathway of mellow light for her\nfeet.\n\nNot a word was said by any one. The scene was too beautiful for\npraise. Edith and Carl sat opposite each other, and Dick Rowan stood\nbetween them, leaning against the mast, and looking down on that fair\nhead with its crown of braids. She leaned over the boat-side, and         486\ntrailed her hand in the water, nor spoke a word, nor once lifted her\neyes. As the water-lily, growing to maturity through unconscious sun\nand dew, when its appointed sunrise comes, shines through all its\nsnowy petals, and opens to disclose another sun hidden within its\nfolded whiteness, so her soul, now its time was come to know itself\nand be known, stirred through all its calm reserves and\nunconsciousness at the sound of that savage chant. She forgot, for the\ntime, all that was cramping in her life, and had a new sense of\nfreedom and joy.\n\nThe song ceased. They neared the Point, and a path of crimson trembled\nout from the camp-fire there and crossed the moonlight. Clara leaned,\nand whispered to Carl. He hesitated a moment, then, with a gesture\nthat showed a sort of defiant resolution, acquiesced in her demand.\nCarl seldom sang, and, when he did, it was for the words rather than\nthe music, and his style was that of an improvisator. He sang:\n\n         \u201cThe moon is climbing up the sky,\n            Back rolls the ether blue.\n          The folded roses stir and sigh,\n            With droppings of the dew;\n          The tide runs up to meet the stream,\n            And bear her to the sea:\n          Downward, as in a happy dream,\n            They\u2019re floating silently.\n\n         \u201cThe slumb\u2019ring deeps of life upbreak,\n            Our childish play is o\u2019er.\n          The footsteps of the future shake\n            The lintel of our door!\n          Awake, sweetheart! thou giv\u2019st to-day\n            A soul, and not a toy:\n          Wake! lest the child\u2019s hand fling away\n            The woman\u2019s crowning joy.\n\n         \u201cCast off the dreams of childish days,\n            Take on thy woman\u2019s state.\n          Search thine own spirit\u2019s deeper ways,\n            Ere yet it be too late.\n          The time is come for thee to give--\n            The time for me to take:\n          Lift up thy lids, and bid me live!\n            O woman\u2019s soul, awake!\u201d\n\nSlowly Edith lifted her drooping head, her heavy eyelids, and looked\nat Carl, and he looked at her. The full moon shone in their faces, and\nthey saw only each other, and were conscious only of each other. The\nlily had bloomed.\n\nSome sharp sound, like breath drawn through teeth, was heard, and\nMelicent cried out, \u201cMr. Rowan!\u201d\n\nThey looked just in time to see Dick\u2019s white face as he staggered\nbackward. His eyes closed, and, before they could reach him, he fell\nover the boat-side, with a heavy splash, and sank.\n\nCaptain Cary threw off his coat, and was overboard in a second, and\nsoon they saw him bearing up a pallid face on his arm. \u201cHaul in sail,\nand row ashore!\u201d he called out, and himself struck out for the Point,\nwhich they were close upon.\n\nPhilip Nicola met him there, and the other men came down, and, when\nthe party had stepped on shore, Dick was in one of the tents. Captain\nCary came out to meet them. \u201cHe has come to,\u201d he said, \u201cand will soon\nbe all right. But you had better go home. I will stay and take care of\nhim. He doesn\u2019t wish to go up now.\u201d\n\n\u201cI must see him, I shall certainly see him,\u201d Edith said resolutely,\nstepping forward.\n\n\u201cI wouldn\u2019t to-night, Miss Edith,\u201d the sailor replied, standing in her\nway. \u201cHe doesn\u2019t feel like talking.\u201d\n\n\u201cI shall go in!\u201d she said, and waved him aside, and went into the\ntent.\n\nDick Rowan lay on the low pallet, with his face turned away and hidden\nin his arms. Edith knelt beside him. \u201cDick!\u201d she said, in an imploring\nvoice.\n\nHe started slightly. \u201cDon\u2019t speak to me! Please go home now,\u201d he said.\n\u201cI don\u2019t want to talk.\u201d\n\n\u201cI mean to be true to you, Dick,\u201d she sobbed, without rising. \u201cI will     487\nnever see nor speak to any one you wish me to avoid. I will go away\nwith you this time, if you say so.\u201d\n\nHis only reply was to bid her go. \u201cGive me time to think,\u201d he said, \u201cI\nwill tell you afterward.\u201d And there was no way for her but to go.\n\n\u201cI am going to walk home,\u201d Carl said, and started off through the\nwoods.\n\nWhen, the next morning early, they sent down to the village for news,\nthe _Halcyon_ had sailed, and Dick Rowan had sailed in her.\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n                             BETHLEHEM.\n\n\n          Bethlehem--House of bread:[105]\n              Of the Bread that came down from heaven,[106]\n             \u201cFor the life of the world \u2018tis given:\n          Eat of it,\u201d Jesus said.\n\n         \u201cFather,\u201d he bade us pray,\n             \u201cGive us this heavenly bread.\u201d\n             \u201cOurs\u201d we must call it, he said.\n         \u201cGive us it day by day.\u201d\n\n          Knelt in the midnight cave\n              The shepherds and sages three--\n             _Theirs_ (do we envy?) to _see_\n          The Bread which the Father gave:[107]\n\n         _We_ in the faith\u2019s broad day\n              Kneeling--nor once, but at will--\n              Take of that Bread our fill,\n          None \u201csent empty away.\u201d\n\n          How should we envy _them_?\n              Yet as the grace the shame,\n              If but in boast we claim\n          The goodlier Bethlehem.\n\n  ADVENT, 1871.\n\n\n     [105] The literal signification of Bethlehem.\n\n     [106] John vi. 33, 51, 52\n\n     [107] Ibid. v. 32.\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n                 THE PROTESTANT RULE OF FAITH[108]                        488\n\n\nDr. Hodge is an Old School Presbyterian, and a sturdy opponent of what\namong Protestants is called the \u201cNew England theology.\u201d He is a man of\nlearning and ability, and one of the most distinguished theologians in\nthe Presbyterian Church. If he has failed to reduce Protestantism to a\nsystem, complete, uniform, and coherent in all its parts, it is not\nhis fault, but undeniably the fault of Protestantism itself, which is\nnot all of a piece, which consists of fragments only of truth, with no\ngenetic relation one to another, or connecting links, and which no\nmortal man can mould into a systematic whole. What man can do with so\nuntoward a subject Dr. Hodge has done, if we may judge from the volume\nbefore us, and, as far as our knowledge goes, his work is the least\nunsuccessful attempt to construct a complete and consistent system of\nProtestant theology that has as yet been made.\n\nNeither our space nor our leisure permits us to review the entire\nvolume, or to discuss the author\u2019s system in its several bearings; a\nbetter opportunity to do that will be presented when we have the\ncompleted work before us, of which only the first volume has as yet\nbeen published. We shall confine ourselves for the present to a single\nquestion, namely, the Protestant rule of faith. The author devotes the\nentire Chapter V. of his Introduction to the statement and refutation,\nas he understands it, of the Catholic, or, as he says, the Romanist\nrule of faith; but as his objections to that rule and his supposed\nrefutation of it presuppose the truth of Protestantism, and are of no\naccount if the Protestant rule of faith is invalid or inadequate, we\nneed not stop to defend it, but are free to pass at once to the\nexamination of the Protestant rule which he opposes to it. If that can\nbe asserted and maintained as a rule of faith, or authority for\ndetermining what is the faith God has revealed and commanded us to\nbelieve, the Catholic rule is indefensible, or at least unnecessary.\n\nThe author is not very clear and definite in his statement of the\nProtestant rule of faith. He says (p. 150), \u201cAll Protestants agree in\nteaching that \u2018the Word of God as contained in the Scriptures of the\nOld and New Testaments is the only infallible rule of faith and\npractice\u2019;\u201d but from his assertion of the right of private judgment\nand several of his objections to the Catholic rule, we may, without\ndanger of error, take the Protestant rule of faith to be the\nScriptures of the Old and New Testaments, or the Bible interpreted by\nprivate judgment--that is, interpreted without any public or catholic\nauthority--as the Protestant rule or standard of faith. But this is\nrather the denial than the assertion of a rule, because it presents no\nrule or standard to which private judgment must conform in order to be\nanything but naked opinion. The Bible, even conceding its divine\ninspiration and sufficiency, cannot be the rule or standard for\nprivate judgment, if it is to be interpreted by private judgment, for     489\nthat would require private judgment to judge what the faith is, before\nit has any rule by which to judge what it is. The Protestant doctrine\nconfounds the rule of faith with the place of faith, and private\njudgment with individual judgment. In private judgment, the individual\njudges by no objective rule or standard, and his judgment is purely\nsubjective, and is worth nothing even for himself; but an individual\njudgment is not necessarily private, for it may be by a rule or\nstandard common to all men, what we call a public or catholic rule. A\njudgment dictated by reason, or the reason which is common to all men\nand the same in all, is not a private but a public judgment, and binds\nall men to whose knowledge it comes as much as it does the individual\nwho renders it. Men may sin against reason as well as against faith.\nMen are bound to exercise their reason, the reason common to all men,\nin all questions submitted to reason or within its province, and are\nbound to do so in interpreting the Bible so far as its interpretation\ncomes within the province of reason, and may abide by its decisions,\nunless overruled by a higher authority--as the lawyer has the right to\nabide by his own judgment of the meaning of a statute, or as to what\nthe law is, till the court decides against him; but private judgment\nis a private opinion, and binds nobody.\n\nDr. Hodge holds that the Scriptures contain not all the revelation\nChrist and his apostles made, but all that is now extant. But, even if\nso, his doctrine only makes them the _place_ of faith; it tells where\nthe faith is, but not what it is. They may be the fountain, but they\ncannot be the rule or standard, of faith. The rule is precisely that\nwhich is necessary to enable us to draw the faith from the Scriptures,\nand determine that it is the faith God has revealed and commanded us\nto believe as his word. The Protestant rule as given, then, is no rule\nof faith at all, and it is impossible to elicit by it an act of faith.\nThe author is too hasty, then, in setting aside the Catholic rule on\nthe authority of his Protestant rule, which, in order to be a rule,\ndemands a catholic rule of judgment, as he himself virtually concedes\n(p. 127).\n\nDr. Hodge makes it a grave objection to the church that she does not\nallow private judgment as a rule of faith; yet it is only as against\nthe church or Catholics that he himself allows it. When his aim is to\ndestroy Catholic faith or to detach Catholics from their fidelity to\nthe church, he asserts the unrestricted right of private judgment;\nbut, when he wishes to build up faith or to establish Protestantism as\na positive doctrine, he restricts it, and confines it to the\nregenerate. It is not every one who is free to interpret the faith or\nthe Scriptures according to his own private judgment; but only those\nwho have been regenerated, and are enlightened and led by the Holy\nGhost. But even this does not help him, for he has no public or\ncatholic rule by which to determine who are or who are not\nregenerated, and the individual himself has only his own private\njudgment by which to test the spirits, and to determine whether the\nspirit by which he is led is the spirit of truth or the spirit of\nerror. The blessed Apostle John tells us not to believe every spirit,\nbut to try the spirits, for there are many false prophets gone out\ninto the world. Now, what is wanted is an objective test or touchstone\nof truth by which to try the spirits. This cannot be the subjective\nleadings of the spirit, for they are precisely what is to be tested in\norder to determine that they are from God, and not from the enemy of      490\nsouls taking the guise of an angel of light in order to deceive. The\nlearned professor, then, even with the restriction of private judgment\nto the regenerate, and the assumption of the interior assistance and\nguidance of the Spirit, though contradicting himself, gets no rule of\nfaith, and has at best only the place of faith.\n\nThe learned author is aware that the Bible interpreted by private\njudgment is no rule, at least no adequate rule, of faith, and so he\nseeks to supply its deficiency by tradition. He says, \u201cProtestants\nadmit there has been a stream of traditionary teaching flowing through\nthe Christian church from the day of Pentecost to the present time.\nThis tradition is so far a rule of faith that nothing contrary to it\ncan be true. Christians do not stand isolated, holding each his own\ncreed. They constitute one body, having one creed. Protestants admit\nthat there is a common faith of the church, which no man is _at\nliberty to reject, or can reject and be a Christian_\u201d (pp. 113, 114).\nThis would seem to make the Protestant rule not the Bible interpreted\nby private judgment and private illumination, but the Bible\ninterpreted by the traditionary teaching of the church or the common\nfaith of the Christian body. This, if it meant anything, would be\nfatal to Protestantism. The author says (_ubi supra_), \u201cChristians\nconstitute one body with a common creed. Rejecting this creed, or any\nof its parts, is the rejection of the fellowship of Christians,\nincompatible with the communion of saints or membership in [of] the\nbody of Christ.\u201d It is undeniable that the Catholic Church included at\nthe epoch of the Reformation the whole Christian body, except those\ncut off from that body as heretics and schismatics; and it is equally\nundeniable that the Reformers or first Protestants did reject what was\nthen the creed of this body, or at least important parts of it, and,\ntherefore, did reject what our Princeton professor says \u201cno man is at\nliberty to reject, and which no man can reject and be a Christian.\u201d\nThe Reformers, then, were not, and Protestants who held from them are\nnot and cannot be, Christians.\n\nBut the author would avoid this conclusion by making the tradition he\nconcedes mean nothing, or at least nothing tangible. When Protestants\nspeak of the common consent of Christians, he says (p. 115), \u201cthey\nunderstand by Christians the true people of God,\u201d that is, \u201cthe truly\nregenerate, holy men, the temples of the Holy Ghost.\u201d They understand\nnot a public external organic body, but an invisible and inorganic\nbody of believers, confined to no one external communion, that is, men\nwho belong to what Catholic theologians call \u201cthe soul of the church.\u201d\nYet even these prior to Protestantism were, if not the whole body of\nCatholics, in the Catholic Church, and held firmly, and more firmly\nthan others, the very creed, or the very parts of it, which\nProtestants reject as Roman or Papal corruption. Even conceding this\nrestriction, the author would hardly be able to avoid the conclusion\nthat Protestants do reject the common creed of the true people of God,\nfor these true people of God, whoever they might be, were included in\nthe visible Catholic Church, and held its faith. But let this pass.\nHow is the Protestant to ascertain who these people are? Or how\nascertain what is their creed or common faith, if he does not\ndetermine it by the creed publicly professed by the external or\nvisible church in which they are concealed?\n\nHere is a grave difficulty, and much graver than our Protestant\nprofessor would seem to regard it. The Scriptures interpreted by          491\nunregenerate men, he holds, are no rule or criterion of faith; it is\nonly the private judgment of the regenerate, of those who are led by\nthe Spirit, that is to be heeded, and the common faith of all such,\nthe true people of God, is obligatory, and the faith which no one can\nreject in whole or in part and be a Christian. But we cannot avail\nourselves of their traditionary teaching or common consent as a rule\nof faith, or for the interpretation of Scripture, unless we know who\nthey are. But, as they are not an outward visible public body, but an\ninvisible, inorganic, and, so to speak, a private body, we cannot know\nwho they are without some rule or criterion by which we can\ndistinguish them from the ungodly, or from those who, according to St.\nAugustine, are _in_ the church, but not _of_ the church. Hence the\ndifficulty. We must have, prior to the application of the Protestant\nrule, another rule, a catholic rule, by which to determine and apply\nit. We cannot use the Protestant rule unless we know what it is, and\nwe cannot know what it is without a prior rule for determining who are\nthe true people of God, the elect, and what is their common creed, or\ntraditionary teaching from the day of Pentecost down to our times. But\nour learned professor has neglected to give us this antecedent rule,\nwithout which the one he gives us is no rule at all. He gives no mark\nor sign by which we can recognize the invisible people of God, and we\ndo not think he can; for we do not believe anybody knows or will know\nwho they are till the last judgment, when the secrets of all hearts\nwill be laid open.\n\nIt will not do here to refer us to the Bible for the rule by which to\nascertain them; for we must know them and their common faith in order\nto obtain our guide to the sense of the Bible. We cannot take the\nsense of the Bible to determine them, and then take them to determine\nthe sense of the Bible. It will not do, again, to say they are they\nwho are led by the Spirit, for it is precisely those who are led by\nthe Spirit that we wish to ascertain; nor will it do to appeal to\nreligious experience, for it is only the religious experience of the\ntrue people of God that can avail, and that would be referring us to\nthe people of God to tell us who are the people of God. It would be to\nreason like the poor Anglican, who makes orthodoxy the test of the\nchurch, and the church the test of orthodoxy. \u201cJack, where is the\nhoe?\u201d \u201cWid de harrow, massa.\u201d \u201cWhere is the harrow?\u201d \u201cWid de hoe,\nmassa.\u201d The Protestant, in any case, gives no more satisfactory\nanswer; for, with all his pretensions, he can only tell us that the\ntrue faith is the faith held and followed by the true people of God,\nand the true people of God are they who hold and follow the true\nfaith.\n\nThe author, as we have seen, says: \u201cWhen Protestants plead the common\nconsent of Christians--the common faith of the Christian body--they\nmean by Christians the true people of God. Romanists, on the other\nhand,\u201d he continues, \u201cmean the company of those who profess the true\nfaith, and who are subject to the Pope of Rome. There is the greatest\ndifference between the authority due to the common faith of truly\nregenerate, holy men, the temples of the Holy Ghost, and that due to\nwhat a society of nominal Christians profess to believe, the great\nmajority of whom may be worldly, immoral, and irreligious.\u201d But where\ndid the professor learn that the authority of the teaching depends on\nthe personal virtue of the teacher? How does he know that they who        492\nrecognize the authority of the Pope are only nominal Christians? or\nthat the Pope is not led and assisted by the Spirit in his office of\nteacher of the universal church? Nay, how does he know, or how can he\nprove to us or anybody else, that there are any of the true people of\nGod among Protestants at all? He must prove his rule of faith before\nproceeding to apply it.\n\nDr. Hodge continues, on the same page (115): \u201cThe common consent for\nwhich Protestants plead concerns only essential doctrines; that is,\ndoctrines which enter into the very nature of Christianity as a\nreligion, and which are necessary to its _subjective_ existence in the\nheart, or which, if they do not enter essentially into the religious\nexperience of believers, are so connected with vital doctrines and\nprecepts as not to admit a separation from them.\u201d\n\nHere is the same difficulty again. What is the Protestant rule for\ndistinguishing among revealed doctrines those which are essential and those\nwhich are not essential? Will the author tell us the essentials are those\ndoctrines which all Protestants agree in teaching, and that those in which\nthey do not agree in teaching are non-essentials? But who are Protestants?\nAll those who agree in teaching the essentials? Where is the hoe? With the\nharrow. Where is the harrow? With the hoe. This would be only to adopt the\nprinciple of poor Jack\u2019s replies to the questions of his master.\n\nBut no. The essentials are \u201cthose doctrines which enter into the very\nnature of Christianity as a religion, and which are necessary to its\n_subjective_ existence in the heart.\u201d But how determine what these\nare, unless we know the very nature of Christianity? And how can we\nknow or determine what is the very nature of Christianity, unless we\nhave a rule or standard of faith? But the essentials are those\ndoctrines which \u201care necessary to its subjective existence in the\nheart.\u201d What doctrines are these? Have Protestants any objective rule\nfor determining them? The professor gives none except the Scriptures,\nwhich do not suffice, because, as we have seen, the Scriptures are the\nplace, not the rule of faith, and what we are seeking is the rule or\nauthority for determining what is the faith they contain. Among\nProtestants there is a very great diversity of views as to what is\nnecessary to the subjective existence of religion in the heart.\nSchleiermacher, in his _Discourses on Religion, addressed to the\nCultivated among its Despisers_, maintains that only the sense of\ndependence is necessary to the subjective existence of religion;\nTwesten, as cited by the author, maintains the same, and that in a\nsubjective sense all religions are equally true, though not equally\npure; some Protestants place the essence of religion in reverence; Dr.\nChanning seemed to place it in philanthropy, or in a sense of the\ndignity of man; others in \u201cself-culture,\u201d in \u201cself-worship\u201d; and a\ndistinguished Protestant minister maintained to us, some years ago,\nthat a pantheist, like Spinoza, or an atheist, like Shelley, might not\nonly be truly religious, but a good Christian. There are thousands and\nthousands in all Protestant denominations who, virtually at least,\nregard the subjective existence of religion in the heart as nearly, if\nnot totally, independent of all objective doctrines or faith. Such is\nat least the tendency of modern Evangelicalism, Bushnellism,\nBeecherism, and from which even our author himself is not always free.\nHe makes, indeed, a brave fight for dogmatic theology or objective\nfaith, but his concessions to Whitfieldian and Wesleyan notions of        493\nreligious experience place him on the declivity to pure religious\nsubjectivism. All these have the Scriptures, and profess to take them\nfor their rule of faith and practice; but it is evident from what we\nhave said that the Scriptures are not a sufficient rule by which to\ndetermine what are essentials and what are not. What rule, then, have\nProtestants by which to make the distinction?\n\nDr. Hodge says, in refutation of the Catholic rule, which, by the way,\nhe does not correctly state: \u201cOur Lord, in promising the Spirit to\nguide his people into the knowledge of truths necessary to their\nsalvation, did _not_ promise to preserve them from error in\nsubordinate matters, or to give them a supernatural knowledge of the\norganization of the church, the number of the sacraments, or the power\nof bishops\u201d (pp. 115, 116). Then, on these matters, the organization\nof the church, the number of the Sacraments, and the power of bishops,\nProtestants have no promise of exemption from error, and hence it is\nquite possible that they err in rejecting the Catholic doctrine of the\nchurch, of the hierarchy and the sacraments. But the professor\u2019s\nlimitation of the promise of our Lord is not warranted by his own\nprofessed rule. The promise, as recorded by the Evangelists is\nunlimited: \u201cBut the Paraclete, the Holy Ghost, whom the Father will\nsend in my name, he will teach you _all_ things, and bring _all_\nthings to your mind _whatsoever_ I shall have said to you\u201d (St. John\nxiv. 26). This is explicit enough. But, again, \u201cBut he, the Spirit of\ntruth, when he shall come, will teach you _all_ truth\u201d (_ib._ xvi.\n13). Therefore, our Lord said to his apostles, \u201cGo ye, and teach all\nnations ... to observe all things _whatsoever_ I have commanded you,\nand behold, I am with you all days, even unto the consummation of the\nworld\u201d (St. Matt, xxviii. 19, 20). This is a promise of guidance of\nthe Spirit into all truth, and of exemption from error, in anything\nwhich our Lord has said or commanded.\n\nIf we were defending the Catholic rule, we should remind the author\nthat this promise was made to the _ecclesia docens_, and only through\nthat to the _ecclesia credens_; but, as we are not defending the\nCatholic rule, we suffer him to apply it to what he calls the true\npeople of God. Yet, if he accepts the plain declaration of our Lord\nhimself as recorded in the Gospels, he has no authority for\ndistinguishing between essentials and non-essentials in the revelation\nof God, and none at all for restricting the promise of spiritual\nguidance and assistance to a promise of preservation from error only\nin certain fundamental truths of revelation. The author must either\ngive us the rule or authority on which he makes the distinction and\nlimitation, or concede that he makes it by no rule, and, therefore, on\nno authority.\n\nDr. Hodge tells us (p. 151) that \u201call Protestants agree in teaching\nthat the word of God, as contained in the Old and New Testaments, is\nthe infallible rule of faith.\u201d He should have said _some_ Protestants;\nfor many who claim to be Protestants do not agree in teaching that.\nWill the professor say that those who do not so agree are not\nProtestants? By what authority? By the authority of the Bible,\ninterpreted by private judgment? But they have the Bible and private\njudgment as well as he, or those who agree with him. Will he appeal to\ntradition? But tradition taken as a whole condemns him as well as\nthose who differ from him. Then he must discriminate in tradition\nbetween what is to be followed and what is to be rejected. But this       494\ndiscrimination demands a rule of judgment. But what rule can the\nauthor allege? Private judgment? But that is no rule, for private\njudgment is by its very definition a judgment without any rule or\nstandard of judgment, and, besides, those who differ from him have\nprivate judgment, and theirs is worth as much as his. Will the author\nanswer again--The tradition or common consent of the true people of\nGod? But who are they? Here, then, we are back in the old difficulty.\nProtestantism moves always in a vicious circle; proving its rule by\nits faith, and its faith by its rule. We see no way by which it can\nget out of this circle. It is not only as a Catholic we have felt this\ndifficulty; we felt it as a Protestant, when we had the misfortune to\nbe a Presbyterian, like our learned friend the Princeton professor.\n\nWe are sure the fault is not the professor\u2019s, for he doubtless sees\nthat he moves only in a vicious circle as clearly as we do, and no\ndoubt would come out of it and move forward in a straight line, if he\ncould. The fault is in Protestantism itself, which is essentially\nillogical, and does not conform to the divine order or the truth of\nthings. The Reformers themselves started without seeing whither they\nwere going, and without seeing that the Catholic system, parts of\nwhich they rejected, was a systematic whole, and that, if one part was\nretained, the whole must be retained, and, if one part was rejected,\nthe whole must be rejected. This is what Moehler has so admirably\nshown in his _Symbolik_. But the Reformers did not wish to reject the\nwhole; they wished to reject only a part, and in the beginning only a\nsmall part. They wished to remain Catholics, _minus_ one or two\ndogmas, and, after the condemnation of Luther by Leo X., _minus_ the\nPope and the Roman curia. But they were driven onward farther than\nthey intended, and farther than they foresaw or were prepared for.\nThey constructed no rule of faith beforehand, and adopted one only as\nthe exigencies of the controversy with Catholics made one necessary;\nstill, except on certain points, they continued using the old Catholic\nrule. Hence their Protestantism was patched up with shreds of the old\nreligion, eked out by such new cloth as they were able to supply to\nmeet the pressure of the occasion. It was formed not all at once, nor\nall of one piece. It was formed little by little in the struggle to\nmaintain themselves against their Catholic adversaries, and to retain\nas much of what had always been the faith of Christendom as was\npossible in the position they assumed. In forming it, they were much\nmore intent on demolishing what our professor calls \u201cRomanism\u201d than on\nlaying a solid foundation for a Protestant superstructure.\n\nThe simple fact is, the Protestant movement could find no solid\nfoundation except in pure rationalism, or, rather, in pure\nindividualism, in which every man is his own church, his own rule of\nfaith, his own law, and his own God--a conclusion from which Luther\nand Calvin would have recoiled with horror, as recoils Dr. Hodge\nto-day. The Reformers did not see, for they were, as all Protestants\nare, sad logicians in matters of religion, whither their movement\ntended, nor dream that one day they would be called on to show that\ntheir religion rests on a solid foundation, or a bottom of its own,\nirrespective of any relation to the Catholic Church, and when they\nmust prove that it is something besides a mere protest against the        495\nChurch of Rome. They thought they could throw off Rome and a few\ndogmas, and still remain true Christian believers. In this they were\ndeceived; for they were too little for Christianity and too much for\nits full denial. They retained certain positive Christian doctrines,\nbut they had no authority for them except the Catholic authority which\nthey madly rejected. Hence, when we press them for the authority on\nwhich they assert these doctrines, they fall into the vicious circle\nin which we find them for ever gyrating, and from which not even Dr.\nHodge can relieve them.\n\nThe author says (p. 104), \u201cRomanists agree with Protestants in\nteaching the plenary inspiration and consequent infallible authority\nof the sacred writings.\u201d But this is a mistake. Catholics do not\nagree with Protestants, but some Protestants--by no means all\nProtestants--agree with the church in maintaining the Catholic\ndoctrine of the \u201cplenary inspiration and consequent infallible\nauthority of the sacred writings.\u201d It is simply a Catholic doctrine\nretained by the Reformers from the church, which taught it nearly\nfourteen hundred years before Protestantism was born. The able and\nlearned professor, we are sorry to observe, forgets that the church is\nsome centuries older than the oldest Protestant sect, that the\nfounders of Protestantism had all been reared in her communion, and\nseparated from her. Protestants have undeniably no historical\nconnection with our Lord and his apostles, save through the Catholic\nChurch, or the church in communion with the See of Rome. Whatever\ndoctrines Protestants hold that the church always held and taught are\nhers, not theirs; and it is a grave mistake to pretend that they are\nProtestant doctrines. Protestantism consists essentially and solely in\nthose things which distinguish it from Catholicity, or in what is\npeculiar to it and constitutes its _differentia_--in what it\ndenies that the church asserts, and it asserts that she denies. If\nthey have stolen some of her doctrines, that does not make them any\nthe less hers by right, nor give them the right to appropriate them as\ntheir own. There is not a single doctrine which Protestants profess to\nhold--which she teaches, and always has taught--to which they, as\nProtestants, have any title, or which they can prove to be revealed\ntruth independently of her testimony and authority. It is disregarding\nthis truth that gives to Protestantism the appearance of being a\nreligion.\n\nWe return to the word of God as contained in the Old and New\nTestaments. Before the author can assert the Scriptures as the\ninfallible rule of faith, he must settle, first, the canon; second,\nthe plenary inspiration of the Scriptures; third, the completeness or\nsufficiency of the Scriptures; and, fourth, the true sense of the\nScriptures. Now, not one of these points is it possible for a\nProtestant to settle independently of the witness and authority of the\nCatholic Church, and Dr. Hodge confirms our assertion by his manifest\nfailure to settle any one of them on Protestant grounds. They are all\nquestions of faith, and not one of them can be settled prior to or\nwithout the rule of faith; and yet on Protestant grounds they must all\nbe settled before the rule of faith can be ascertained and applied.\n\nProtestants exclude from the canon of the Old Testament several books\ncalled by some the Deutero-canonical books, which are included in it\nby the Catholic Church, and even the schismatic churches of the East,\nand they are far from being agreed among themselves as to what books      496\nare or are not canonical. Some would exclude the Book of Ruth and the\nCanticle. As to the New Testament, Luther had doubts, if our reading\nor memory be not at fault, of the Epistle to the Hebrews, and that of\nSt. Jude, and rejected the Epistle of St. James, which he called an\nepistle of straw, probably because it flatly contradicts his doctrine\nof justification by faith alone; others have doubted the canonicity of\nthese, and, in addition, of the Apocalypse, the second Epistle of St.\nPeter, the second and third of St. John, and that of St. Paul to\nPhilemon; others still reject the Gospel according to St. John, and\nindeed the whole New Testament, except the Synoptics--and these, while\nthey admit them as authentic, they deny to be inspired. The Princeton\nprofessor may deny these to be Protestants, but they have as good a\nright to exclude from the canon such books as they judge proper as had\nLuther and Calvin; and there is no rule by which he can make out that\nhe is a Protestant that will not equally serve to prove that they are\nProtestants. The only rule available is Catholic tradition, and that\ncondemns him as well as them.\n\nThe professor does not rely on the authority of the Synagogue, though\nhe adduces it, to settle the canon of the Old Testament, for that\nwould be anti-Protestant; but attempts to settle it by the authority\nof the New Testament. Such books as he finds a text quoted from by our\nLord or his apostles he assumes to be canonical and inspired; but such\nas he does not find thus quoted from, he rejects from the canon. But\nthis is not conclusive, for the author concedes that our Lord and his\napostles said many things that are not recorded in the New Testament,\nand how does he know that in those many unrecorded discourses the books\nwhich he rejects as uncanonical, and which Catholics hold to be\ncanonical, were not quoted? Then, by what authority does he pretend\nthat a citation of a text from a book proves the book to be canonical\nor the whole book to be inspired? St. Paul, at Athens, cites the Greek\npoet Arrian, and in his Epistle to the Hebrews he manifestly adopts a\nphrase and a sentiment from Plato\u2019s _Republic_: must we therefore\nconclude that the poems of Arrian and Plato\u2019s _Republic_ are\ncanonical, and Arrian and Plato to be included in the list of divinely\ninspired writers? Has the professor any assertion of our Lord or of\nany writer in the New Testament that a Jewish or any other book cited\nby him or by his apostles is canonical and divinely inspired?\nCertainly not. St. Paul says in his second Epistle to Timothy, \u201cAll\nScripture divinely inspired is profitable,\u201d etc., but he does not say\nwhat Scriptures are or are not divinely inspired.\n\nThen, again, as to the New Testament, the author concedes that, during\nthe first century and later, the canon of the New Testament was\nuncertain. It, then, was not settled by our Lord or his apostles\nthemselves. On what authority, then, was it settled? Manifestly only\non the authority of the church, that is, of popes and councils. But\nour Princeton professor denies the authority of popes and councils;\ndenies the infallibility of the church; nay, he denies that the\nchurch, Catholic or Protestant, has any teaching authority, fallible\nor infallible. The canon neither of the New Testament nor of the Old\nis settled, then, by any infallible rule or authority. How, then, can\nthe professor maintain that Protestants have, in the Scriptures, an\ninfallible rule of faith? No fallible rule suffices for infallible\nfaith.\n\nAs Protestants are unable, without the authority of the church or         497\ntradition, to settle the canon, so are they unable, without the same\nauthority, to determine what books are or are not divinely inspired.\nThe author contends that it suffices to prove that the writers were\nmessengers from God, and commissioned to speak or write in his name.\nBut that cannot be proved unless they accredited themselves as such by\ntheir miracles, and not even then, unless the miracles are attested to\nus by a competent and credible witness of them. Who or what, for\nProtestants, is that witness? The Record! But the record may have been\nforged or interpolated, and must, before it can be adduced as\nevidence, be authenticated. How can the Protestant authenticate it,\nexcept by showing that it has been carefully and vigilantly guarded\nfrom the first till now by an official keeper with whom it was\ndeposited? Deny the church as the depositary of the record, as the\nProtestant does, and there is no certain means of authenticating the\nrecord, and then none of authenticating the miracles; then none of\nestablishing the fact of the divine commission of the sacred writers,\nand consequently none of proving the divine inspiration of the sacred\nwritings, since inspiration is a supernatural fact.\n\nBut did it ever occur to our learned professor that he has, in order\nto prove the inspiration of the Scriptures, not only to take the\nauthority of the church for so much, but to prove, before he can\nallege the authority of the Scriptures, all the Catholic has to prove,\nin order to prove the divine authority and infallibility of the\nchurch? He must prove that our Lord and his apostles spoke and wrote\nby divine authority, and that is all the Catholic has to prove. In\neither case, the authority, whether of the church or of the Bible,\nturns on the fact of the divine commission, which the Protestant must\nprove in the very outset as well as the Catholic, and which he cannot\nprove if he rejects the testimony of the church as the contemporary\nand living witness of the facts. The church, having been founded by\nand grown out of that commission, and continuing without interruption\nfrom the apostles down to us, is herself the living witness of the\nfacts which prove the commission. She authenticates the record; but\nthe Protestant has, in addition to authenticating the record which\nproves the commission, to establish the genuineness, integrity, and\nauthenticity of the sacred writings before he can infer their divine\ninspiration and infallible authority, or use them as a rule of faith,\nand not even then unless their writers expressly declare them to be\ninspired, for it is possible for divinely commissioned men to write at\ntimes on matters not covered by their commission.\n\nBut we are not yet through with the Protestant\u2019s difficulties, if he\nis to proceed independently of Catholic tradition. Supposing him to\nhave proved all this, he still has to prove the completeness or\nsufficiency of the Scriptures. Dr. Hodge does not pretend that the\nScriptures contain all the revelations made by our Lord to his\napostles, but only what is now extant. \u201cIt is not denied,\u201d he says\n(pp. 182, 183), \u201cthat there may have been, and probably were, books\nwritten by inspired men which are no longer in existence. Much less is\nit denied that Christ and his apostles delivered many discourses which\nwere not recorded, and which, could they now be known, would be of\nequal authority with the books now regarded as canonical.\u201d But how\ndoes he know that these discourses or the instructions they contained     498\nare now lost, or that they are not preserved and as well-known and\nauthenticated in the traditions of the church as the canonical books\nthemselves? Furthermore, how does he know that it is not precisely in\nthese discourses which were not recorded that is to be found the key\nto the sense of those which were recorded? The church has always so\nheld and taught; indeed, the author himself concedes that, at the\nfirst, the whole revealed word, whether written or unwritten, went by\nthe name of the tradition, and the written tradition was not\ndistinguished from the unwritten. He says:\n\n     \u201cIn the early church, the word [tradition] was used in this wide\n     sense. Appeal was constantly made to the traditions, that is, the\n     instructions the churches had received. It was only certain\n     churches at first that received any of the written instructions\n     of the apostles. And it was not till the end of the first century\n     that the writings of the Evangelists and apostles were collected\n     and formed into a canon or rule of faith. And when the books of\n     the New Testament had been collected, the fathers spoke of them\n     as containing the \u2018traditions,\u2019 that is, the instructions derived\n     from Christ and his apostles.... In that age of the church, the\n     distinction between the written and unwritten word had not yet\n     been distinctly made. But as controversies arose and disputants\n     on both sides of all questions appealed to \u2018tradition,\u2019 that is,\n     to what they had been taught; and when it was found that these\n     traditions differed, one church saying their teachers always\n     taught them one thing, and another that theirs had taught them\n     its opposite, it was felt that there should be some authoritative\n     standard. Hence the wisest and best of the fathers [who were\n     they?] insisted on abiding by the written word, and receiving\n     nothing as authoritative not contained therein. In this, however,\n     it must be confessed, they [the wisest and the best of the\n     fathers] were not always consistent. Whenever prescription,\n     usage, or conviction founded on unwritten evidence was available\n     against an adversary, they did not hesitate to make use of it.\n     During _all the early centuries_, therefore, the distinction\n     between Scripture and tradition was not so sharply drawn as it\n     has been since the controversies between Romanists and\n     Protestants, and especially since the decisions of the Council of\n     Trent\u201d (pp. 108, 109).\n\nThere are several inaccuracies in this passage. In the early ages of\nthe church, when controversies arose and contradictory traditions were\nalleged, appeal was not made to the written word, but to the churches\nfounded by St. Peter, or by his immediate authority, that is, to\nAntioch, Alexandria, or Rome, or to a council, provincial, plenary, or\n\u0153cumenical, as can hardly be unknown to so learned a theological\nscholar as Dr. Hodge.[109] But two facts are conceded in the passage:\nfirst, that the church for a hundred years or more had only unwritten\ntradition or the oral instructions of its pastors as its rule of\nfaith; and, second, that the written and the unwritten traditions of\nthe word were deemed of equal authority by the wisest and best of the\nfathers, and were not as to their authority distinguished, at least\nnot sharply distinguished, before the rise of Protestantism. The\nprofessor, then, must prove that the whole church was wrong prior to\nLuther in recognizing the authority of the unwritten traditions before    499\nhe can assert that the Scriptures contain all of the revealed word\nextant, or maintain the completeness or sufficiency of the Scriptures\nas the rule of faith. How will he do it, after conceding that they do\nnot contain the whole revelation that was made, nor even the whole\nextant in the opinion of the church or the great body of Christians\nprior to the rise of Protestantism? Does the written word anywhere\ndeclare its own completeness or sufficiency, and that the portions not\nrecorded are of no importance?\n\nBut the difficulties of Protestantism do not end even here. The Bible\nis no rule of faith except in its true sense, or as rightly\ninterpreted according to the meaning of the Holy Ghost. The author\nsays (p. 183): \u201cThe Bible is a plain book. It is intelligible by the\npeople. And they have the right and are bound to read and interpret it\nfor themselves, so that their faith may rest on the testimony of the\nScriptures, and not on that of the church. Such is the doctrine of\nProtestants on this subject.\u201d\n\nBut is it true? If so, how happens it that among Protestants we can\nhardly find two, when left to themselves, without any parental or\npastoral instruction, who agree in their interpretation of the written\nword, or as to the doctrines to be deduced from it? Yet the author\nhimself can hardly believe what he asserts to be the Protestant\ndoctrine on the subject is true. \u201cIt is not denied,\u201d he adds (pp. 183,\n184), \u201cthat the Scriptures contain many things that are hard to be\nunderstood; that they require diligent study; that all men need the\nguidance of the Holy Spirit to a right knowledge and true faith. But\nit is maintained that in all things necessary to salvation they are\nsufficiently plain to be understood even by the unlearned.\u201d What! even\nby those who are unable to understand a word of the language in which\nthe Scriptures were written, and must depend on the fidelity of\ntranslations made by fallible men, and vouched for by no infallible\nauthority? By those who do not know how to read at all in any\nlanguage? Then how does the professor know what things are or are not\nnecessary to salvation? That the things necessary to the right\napprehension of the mysteries of the faith are not contained in those\nvery parts of Scripture which are hard to be understood, or that the\nproper explanation of those parts is not necessary to the proper\nunderstanding of the other parts, which he judges to be intelligible\neven to the unlearned? The author here must either borrow from the\nCatholic rule, which condemns his Protestantism, or else admit that he\nhas no satisfactory answer to give to these and kindred questions.\n\nBut all these questions are quite unnecessary, for the author\nobligingly refutes his own rule of faith, and acknowledges that the\nScriptures interpreted by private judgment or by human reason itself\nare not sufficient to give a \u201cright knowledge of the true faith.\u201d\nNeither learning nor diligent study, nor the perspicuity of Scripture,\nsuffices; for \u201call men,\u201d he says, \u201cneed the guidance of the Holy\nSpirit in order to a right knowledge of the true faith.\u201d This is\nconclusive against the Protestant rule; and confesses that no man can\narrive at the knowledge of the true faith without the supernatural\nassistance of the Holy Spirit. Let us hear no more, then, of the\nScriptures interpreted by private judgment, or of the ability or the\nright of every individual to read and interpret the Scriptures for\nhimself and to form from them his own creed.\n\nIt is worthy of remark here that our Protestant professor is obliged      500\nthroughout to adopt the principle of the Catholic rule of faith, only\nhe applies it differently. The Catholic asserts the infallibility of\nthe Pope in matters of faith and morals by virtue of the assistance or\nguidance of the Holy Spirit; the Protestant professor claims the same\ninfallibility, by virtue of the same supernatural assistance, for each\none of the people of God taken individually. But the Pope is a public\npersonage, all the world knows or may know who he is, and can recur to\nhim, and, supposing him to be assisted as claimed, all the world may\nknow from him the true faith; but in the Protestant sense there is no\npublic means of knowing who the people of God are, and, consequently,\nno public means of knowing what the Spirit teaches, or whom he guides\nor assists to a knowledge of the true faith, since he guides or\nassists only private individuals, not a public personage or a public\nbody. It can be no public rule of faith, and, as we have shown, none\nfor the individual himself, for he has no objective and independent\nrule for determining whether the spirit that leads him is the spirit\nof truth or the spirit of error. The professor has refuted his own\ndoctrine in his refutation of the Quaker rule of faith. The interior\nillumination, he asserts, is private, and can be brought to no public\nor catholic test. Not the church, both because the church the\nProtestant recognizes is invisible, and recognizable by no external\nmarks or notes, and because the church, according to him, has no\nteaching authority or faculty. Not to the Scriptures, because it is\nthe test of the right understanding of them that is required, and to\ntake them as the test of this is to reason in a vicious circle.\n\nProtestants, historically considered, arrived at their rule through\nProtestantism, not at Protestantism through the application of their\nrule, and the fact is, they cannot logically assert their rule till\nthey have proved or obtained _aliunde_ their Protestantism. They are\nobliged to prove their Protestantism in order to prove their rule, and\nthey must prove their rule in order to prove their Protestantism. This\nis a grave inconvenience. But, assuming without proof that the\nScriptures are the sufficient and only rule of faith, they conclude,\nagainst undeniable facts, that the Bible is a plain book, and\nintelligible to the people, to even the unlearned, as it should be if\nintended by its divine Author to be the sufficient and only rule of\nfaith. They find their conclusion untenable, and modify their\nstatement, and say that their conclusion is true as to all things\nnecessary to salvation. But, finding no agreement among Protestants\nthemselves who take the Bible as their sufficient and only rule of\nfaith as to what things are necessary to salvation, they divide. One\nclass declares more or less distinctly that no objective faith is\nnecessary to salvation, and another class, in which is included our\nauthor, asserts, while maintaining the right of private judgment, the\nprivate illumination of the Holy Ghost as the rule for interpreting\nthe Scriptures, apparently not perceiving that they are in flagrant\ncontradiction with themselves.\n\nThe professor objects (p. 127) to tradition as the rule of faith that\nit is not adapted to that purpose: \u201cA rule of faith to the people must\nbe something they can apply; a standard by which they can judge. But\nthe unwritten tradition is not contained in any one volume accessible\nto the people and intelligible by them.\u201d This were a valid objection,\nif the people had to seek through all history to find and verify the      501\ntradition; but is no objection at all, if we suppose an infallible\nteacher, always present, who preserves and applies the tradition for\nthe people. But does the Protestant escape his own objection by\nrejecting all unwritten tradition, and making the Bible alone the rule\nof faith, which is at least as unintelligible to the people as is\nunwritten tradition explained and applied by duly authorized preachers\nof the word?\n\nThat the Bible ought, on Protestant principles, to be a plain book,\ninterpreting itself to every person of ordinary sense, or who has\nenough sense to be a moral agent, we concede, and Protestants should\nactually derive their doctrines from it. But nobody knows better than\nour author that neither is a fact. He knows that the Protestant\npeople, however much they may read and praise the Bible, do not form\ntheir own opinions from it, but from their pastors or teachers, or the\ncommunity in which they are brought up. He knows, also, that the\npeople could never of themselves derive even the doctrines which he\nholds to be essential and necessary to salvation from reading the\nBible alone. Unitarians and Universalists deny that the Bible teaches\nthem, and the people, as a matter of fact, take them from the\ntradition of their sect, and at best only find confirmation of them in\nthe Scriptures; and yet such are the exigencies of Protestantism that\nthe ablest and most learned Protestant professors are obliged, in the\nface of these facts, to say with Chillingworth, \u201cThe Bible, the Bible\nalone, is the religion of Protestants.\u201d\n\nBut Protestants should bear in mind that Catholics have the Bible as\nwell as they--had it ages before Protestantism was ever heard of, and\nthat it was from Catholics that they obtained it--strictly speaking,\nfrom the church _stole_ it. How, then, can it be their religion any\nmore than it is the religion of Catholics? Catholics, if they have not\nadmitted it to contain the whole revealed word, have always held it,\nbefore Protestantism and since, to be divinely inspired, and, as far\nas it goes, the infallible word of God. They have always held that all\nChristians are bound to believe whatever it teaches, and forbidden to\nbelieve anything that contradicts it. This is all that Protestantism\ncan really say. The church contends that in no respect does her\ndoctrine conflict with the written word, and is in most respects, if\nnot in all, positively sustained by it. Suppose her as fallible as\nProtestants confess themselves to be, what can Protestants have in the\nBible that Catholics have not? or what have they from any source that\ncan override the Catholic understanding of the Scriptures, or\nauthorize them to say that it is a misunderstanding? Catholics may\nhave more than Protestants, but in no case have they or can they have\nless. By what rule or standard, then, do Protestants judge the\nCatholic understanding of the Scriptures to be false and the\nProtestant understanding to be true? Private judgment is no rule, and,\nif it were, Catholics have private judgment as well as Protestants;\nthey have, too, reason, Biblical, historical, and all other sorts of\nlearning, as well as they, and, at least, in as eminent a degree. By\nwhat rule or standard of judgment, then, is Protestantism to be\npronounced more Biblical than is Catholicity?\n\nThe professor says: \u201cThe people have the right of private judgment,\nand are bound to read and interpret the Bible for themselves.\u201d In\nmatters left to private judgment, in regard to which there is no          502\npublic or catholic rule, be it so. But, when the people have a public\nor catholic rule, they are bound to judge by it, and the right of\nprivate judgment ceases. Protestants either have such a rule or they\nhave not. If they have, they are bound to judge by it, and have no\nright of private judgment in the case. If they have not these, they\nhave no rule or standard by which to judge, no rule of faith, and that\nends the matter. We beg the professor to understand that all this\nProtestant rationalistic talk about private judgment is mere\nmoonshine. He may allow it against what he calls \u201cRomanism,\u201d but he by\nno means allows it against what he holds to be the word of God. As for\nthe people being bound to read or interpret the Bible for themselves,\nit is sufficient to ask what would become of the professor\u2019s own\nvocation if it were so? Were the people who lived before the New\nTestament was written, or its several books collected into a volume as\nthe rule of faith, bound to read and understand it for themselves? Are\nthose bound to read or interpret the Bible for themselves who know not\neven how to read? These are reckoned to be at least nineteen-twentieths\nof mankind; shall they receive no religious instructions till they\nhave learned to read? What shall we say of those who--and they are the\nbulk of mankind--obliged to toil incessantly to sustain their bodily\nexistence, have no time to learn to read, much less to study\ndiligently the sacred Scriptures, even if they could read? What are we\nto say of children who are too young to read and understand the Bible\nfor themselves, and yet are old enough to sin? Can these all be saved\nwithout the knowledge of the truth? or are they excluded by an\ninexorable decree and no fault of their own from salvation? The fact\nis, Protestants, whatever the fuss they may make about the Scriptures\nand private judgment, adopt, in practice, as their rule of faith, the\nBible interpreted by the learned, or those they hold to be learned,\nthe rule Dr. D\u00f6llinger would force the church to adopt. Catholics are\nnot more dependent on the church than Protestants are on their\npastors. But as their doctors cannot agree among themselves, they have\nno resource but to divide with their doctors, and divide they do, each\ndivision following its favorite doctor, and founding with him a new\nsect, which allows no private judgment against itself. Even\nUnitarians, who believe hardly anything, tolerate private judgment\nonly when it makes for them, and are as intolerant of those who deny\nanything they hold to be essential as an Old or New School\nPresbyterian. The worst of it is that, while Protestants yield a\nslavish submission to their ministers, they deny that their ministers\nhave any authority from God either to teach or to govern them, and,\nlike the old carnal Jews, boast that they are free and in bondage to\nno man. The most degrading and debasing slavery into which mortals can\nbe plunged is that of Protestants to their favorite ministers, unless\nit be that of the heathen to their idols or false gods.\n\nBut we are exceeding our limits. We have said enough, we think, to\nshow that Protestants have no independent rule of faith--independent\nof the Catholic Church, we mean. In so far as they hold Christian\ntruth or positive faith at all, they hold it on the authority of the\nCatholic rule, which they reject; and when deprived of what they stole\nfrom us, and to which they have no right, they have nothing to prevent\nthem from running into pure rationalism on the one hand, or into          503\nmysticism and transcendentalism on the other. The germs of both were\nin the original Protestant movement, and may be easily detected even\nin our Princeton professor. Into one or the other he must run, if he\never gets out of the vicious circle in which Protestantism, pretending\nto be Christian, necessarily gyrates, unless the grace of God relieves\nhim and enables him to return to the bosom of the Catholic Church,\nwhere alone he will find true freedom and truth in its unity and\nintegrity.\n\n\n     [108] _Systematic Theology._ By Charles Hodge, D.D.,\n     Professor in the Theological Seminary, Princeton, N. J. Vol.\n     I. New York: Scribner & Co. 1872. 8vo, pp. 648.\n\n     [109] If the written word had been regarded as the\n     sufficient and only rule of faith, there could have been no\n     occasion to appeal to apostolic churches or to councils to\n     ascertain the evangelical or apostolical traditions. It\n     would have been simpler to appeal to the written word\n     itself. The reason of the council, as its purpose, was to\n     collect by the testimony of the pastors of the several\n     churches what was the tradition that was handed over to each\n     by its apostolic founder, and which it had preserved. By\n     ascertaining thus by the testimony of each the traditions\n     common to them all, the controversy was settled. The\n     frequency of councils in the early ages proves that during\n     those ages, at least, Christians did not adopt the\n     Protestant rule of faith, and that they were by no means\n     Protestants. The pretence of the Reformers that they were\n     restoring primitive Christianity, primitive faith and usage,\n     is to be taken as a pretence only.\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n                        DANTE\u2019S PURGATORIO.\n\n                           CANTO SECOND.\n\nThis Canto of the _Purgatorio_ is the one which contains that episode\nof the music-master, Casella, to which Milton alludes in his\ncelebrated Sonnet to Henry Lawes, and perhaps all the more celebrated\nfrom this allusion to the passage in Dante.\n\nCasella was a dear friend of Dante\u2019s, and used to set his _canzoni_ to\nmusic, and sing them with a voice which it must have been delicious for\nDante to have made immortal. Dante supposes in the poem that Casella\nhad gone to Rome in the year of the Jubilee, and, coming thence by\nsea, had perished near the mouth of the Tiber.\n\nFor Canto I. of this translation, see CATHOLIC WORLD for November,\n1870.\n\n\n     Now that horizon whose meridian arch\n       Hangs o\u2019er Jerusalem its topmost height\n     The sun had reached: while opposite, her march\n       Holding in countercourse, the circling Night\n     Walked forth from Ganges, bearing in her hand\n       The Scales that she lets fall with her advance,\n     So that the morning\u2019s cheeks where I did stand\n       From white and red grew orange to my glance.\n\n     Beside the sea we made a brief delay,\n       Like lingering men, that on their journey dream,\n     Who go in spirit, but in body stay:\n       And lo! as when, surprised by morning\u2019s beam,\n     Through the gross vapors Mars doth redly burn\n       Down in the west upon the ocean floor;\n     A light appeared--oh! may that light return--\n       So rapidly those waters travelling o\u2019er,\n     That to its motion flying were but slow:\n       Then, having momently withdrawn my gaze\n     To question of my Guide, I looked, and lo!\n       Larger it burned, and seemed almost ablaze!\n     Soon from each side thereof, although I knew\n       Naught what they were, something appeared of white,\n     And underneath another of like hue\n       Little by little grew upon my sight.\n     My Master spake not: I meantime could spell                          504\n       Wings in those first white objects at the side:\n     Soon as he recognized the pilot well,\n       \u201cBehold God\u2019s Angel!--bend thy knees!\u201d he cried:\n     \u201cLift up thy palms to him--now in thy ken\n       See one of heaven\u2019s high ministers indeed!\n     Look, how he scorneth all device of men;\n       He nor of oars nor any sail hath need\n     Save his own pinions (while he beats the air\n       And heavenward stretches those eternal pens),\n     From shore to shore so distant--plumes that ne\u2019er\n       Moult like the changing tresses that are men\u2019s.\u201d\n\n     Then as more near and nearer to us drew\n       That divine bird, so grew the splendor more\n     Till scarce the eye could bear a closer view:\n       I bent mine down, and he arrived ashore\n     With a fleet skiff, so light upon the flood\n       That without wake it skimmed the water\u2019s breast:\n     High on the stern the heavenly helmsman stood,\n       In aspect such as Holy Writ calls Blest.[110]\n     More than an hundred spirits in one band\n       Within sat blending in one voice their strains,\n     \u201c_In exitu Isr\u00e0el_--From the land\n       Of Egypt\u201d--and what else that psalm contains.[111]\n\n     The sign of holy cross he made them then,\n       Whereat they bounded all upon the strand,\n     And he, swift as he came, sped back again.\n       The crowd that stayed looked wildly round, and scanned\n     The place like strangers coming to things new.\n       Now on all sides had Ph\u0153bus pierced the day\n     With his keen arrows, which so fiercely flew\n       That Capricorn was chased from heaven\u2019s midway,\n     When the new-comers raised their brows to us,\n       Saying: \u201cShow us the pathway, if ye know,\n     Up to the mountain.\u201d Virgil answered thus:\n       \u201cPerchance you think us dwellers here? Not so.\n     We, like yourselves, are only pilgrims here:\n       Just before you, and by another way,\n     We came, a road so rugged, so severe,\n       That climbing this will seem thereto as play.\n     The spirits, by my breathing who could guess\n       That I was living, wan with wonder grew;\n     And just as people round a herald press\n       Who comes with olive wreaths, to hear what new\n     Tidings he bears, regardless how they tread,                         505\n       Thus gathering round, those favored souls eyed me;\n     Each one, as \u2018twere, forgetful how he sped\n       Towards where they go, more beautiful to be.\n\n     One I beheld before the rest, who came\n       As to embrace me, with such look intense\n     Of love, it moved me to return the same.\n       Oh! save in aspect, shadows void of sense,\n     Three times my hands around his form I threw,\n       And thrice received them back upon my breast.\n     I think my face was tinged with wonder\u2019s hue;\n       For the shade smiled as after him I pressed,\n     And, I still following, he so sweetly said:\n       \u201cFollow no longer;\u201d whose that voice must be\n     I knew full well, and begged him, ere he fled,\n       To stay a little while to speak with me.\n\n     He answered me: \u201cAs in my mortal part\n       I loved thee once, I love thee loose from clay,\n     And therefore stop; but thou--why wandering art?\u201d\n       \u201cMy dear Casella, I come not to stay,\n     And must return where I am dwelling still.\n       But tell me what has so delayed thy bliss?\u201d\n     \u201cIf he who taketh whom and when he will\n       Refused my passage oft, no wrong was this,\u201d\n     The shade replied: \u201cTo Heaven\u2019s his choice conforms:\n       These three months freely he hath carried o\u2019er,\n     At their own pleasure, the peace-parted swarms:\n       Whence I, too, coasting homeward by the shore,\n     Where Tiber\u2019s waves grow salt, with gracious hand\n       Was gathered. Titherward he now has gone,\n     Bending his pinions towards the sacred strand\n       Where all those meet who seek not Acheron.\u201d\n\n     Then I: \u201cUnless the new laws here forbid\n       Memory or use of that love-laden style\n     Which all my longings once full gently chid,\n       Soothe with one song, beseech thee, for awhile\n     This soul of mine, which, dragging here its clay,\n       Is so worn out.\u201d Directly he began\n     \u201c_Love reasons with me_,\u201d in so sweet a way\n       That the same sweetness I could hear--I can.\n     We stood, my Master and myself, as though\n       Naught else possessed us, and that shadowy swarm,\n     Rapt, listening round him to his notes: and lo!\n       That noble old man\u2019s venerable form[112]\n     Came crying: \u201cHow now, tardy spirits--why                            506\n       This negligence? why lingering do ye plod?\n     Run to the mountain, that from every eye\n       The scales may fall that seal your sight from God.\u201d\n\n     As doves in barley, gathering grain or tares\n       (Busy at pasture in a single flock,\n     Quiet, nor showing their accustomed airs),\n       If aught approach the timid tribe to shock,\n     Fly from their food, assailed by greater care,\n       So quit the song this new-come troop, and started\n     Hillward, like one who goes unknowing where:\n       And with no less a pace we, too, departed.\n\n\n     [110] \u201cBlessed are the pure in heart: for they shall see\n     God.\u201d\n\n     [111] Psalm cxiv.\n\n     [112] The spirit of Cato of Utica, introduced in the First\n     Canto.\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n   THE LATE GENERAL CONVENTION OF THE PROTESTANT EPISCOPAL CHURCH.\n\n\nThe doings of a body so large, and in a worldly point of view so\nrespectable, as the Episcopal Church, ought to be of some consequence\nto the public. Unfortunately, however, the negative character of its\nlegislation prevents it from reaching the wants of the day, or\nspeaking to the heart of a restless age which is bent on physical\nprogress. The gentlemen who form the convention meet together every\nthree years, and spend three weeks in moving the interesting machinery\nof legislation, without doing anything whatever, and in disappointing\nevery one who asks for a positive statement in matters of doctrine or\ndiscipline. Their body is formed after the plan of the United States\nCongress, and has no counterpart in any period of ecclesiastical\nhistory. The bishops form the upper house or senate, and the clerical\nand lay deputies constitute the lower or more popular house, one half\nof which is composed of ministers and one half of laymen. Each house\nacts as a restraint upon the other, and no law can be passed without\nthe agreement of the two branches. The bishops might be disposed to\nchange the creed or make some new article of faith for their\ncommunion, but they cannot do so without the consent of the deputies.\nThe same thing is true of the ministers in the convention. The laymen\nhave a veto upon their pastors, who in turn can tie up the legislation\nof their flock. A negative lay-vote in the lower house will nullify\neven the action of the bishops in council, as well as the wishes of\nthe reverend clergy. If, for example, the Episcopal body should\npropose to pass a law on ritual, and the ministers were agreed to it,\nthe lay deputies could defeat it by an adverse vote. There is\nsomething very peculiar in this equalization of ecclesiastical\nprerogatives between ministers and laymen, which strikes the\nunpractised eye as unique and strange. The constitution of the\nProtestant Episcopal Church was formed, as we have intimated, after       507\nthe model of the American Republic. There is, however, no executive,\nthe presiding bishop being only a chairman of a meeting; and the power\nof putting into effect the action of the convention lies wholly in the\nconvention itself, which has no existence after it adjourns _sine\ndie_. We believe, however, that the different dioceses feel bound to a\ncertain kind of obedience, the nature of which will depend upon\nindividual bishops.\n\nIn regard to the late convention, we have little to say, and yet some\ngood may result from putting on record what Catholics think of a body\nof Christians which makes such large pretensions, and at the same time\nis so utterly helpless, and useless as a teacher of truth. Our purpose\nin this article will be accomplished by a brief view of the\nimpressions produced by this council upon the Episcopalians and the\nworld; by a consideration of what has been done negatively and\npositively; and a few remarks upon the position in which the\nProtestant Episcopal Church stands before mankind.\n\nI. The impression produced upon Episcopalians, as far as we can learn\nit from themselves, is very singular, and seems to differ with\ndifferent minds. The only satisfaction expressed in any of their\njournals is that the convention did not do any more harm. The\n_Church Journal_, of November 1, speaks of the \u201ctomb of the Capulets\u201d\nto which so many important measures were consigned. \u201cThat vast\nmausoleum,\u201d it says, \u201cwell stored at the close of the session of 1868,\nreceived a large accession in 1871.\u201d It also terms the whole thing a\n_fiasco_, and pitifully remarks that \u201cthe mind of the church must be\nwell informed in 1874 if we would not pave the way to another _fiasco_.\u201d\n\u201cIn the matter of tone, temper, and decorum, _with slight exceptions_,\nthe convention was worthy of the respect of the church.\u201d There were,\ntherefore, exceptions in which it is not deserving of any respect. The\n_Church Weekly_ rejoices that no great evils have come from this\ncouncil of their _branch_ of the one (_invisible_) church, and\nattributes this to the good sense of the deputies, who generally were\n\u201cwise and conservative men.\u201d \u201cIt was only by the _non-concurrence_ of\norders that action was not had on ritual, and in the form proposed by\nthe House of Bishops.\u201d The same journal says that the bishops are\nutterly unfitted for action on any of the subjects which came before\nthe convention. \u201cThey are chosen,\u201d it remarks, \u201cfor any reason rather\nthan knowledge of _liturgies_, _ritual_, _canon law_, _or theology_.\u201d\nWhat these reverend fathers are expected to know we are left to\nimagine, and it is a great strain upon our powers; for we are somewhat\nbewildered by the observation \u201cthat they are chosen for their\npractical common sense, which is American English for success in life.\u201d\n\nThe _Christian Witness_ feels happy that there is \u201csuch elaborate\ndiscussion on the smallest points, and that questions of order take\nmuch of the time in their disposal.\u201d The result, however, is not so\npleasant, because \u201cthe most important subjects are left to the end of\nthe session, when the haste of the members to return home cuts short\nthe discussion, and _dissatisfaction_ is the result.\u201d\n\nThe _Protestant Churchman_ is the only paper we have seen which seems\nreally gratified. The convention did not do anything, but showed a\nspirit which, if not quenched, will yet accomplish much:\n\n     \u201cNo one who was present could fail to be struck with some very\n     remarkable developments, the full significance of which does by\n     no means appear in what the convention actually did or left\n     undone. Although the convention did not pass any of the              508\n     proposed canons against ritualism, it is yet true that an\n     anti-ritualistic spirit was disclosed, which was entirely\n     unexpected, and in the presence of which scarcely any one, in\n     either house, dared to avow himself a ritualist. Although the\n     convention did not repeal the restrictive and exclusive canons,\n     still the evidence was most marked of the progress of liberal\n     sentiments. If the questions involved in these canons had come\n     fairly before the convention, we believe that the result would\n     have surprised every one, and satisfied those who have been\n     hopeless of favorable action.\n\n     \u201cIn our view, this convention has marked a transition period in\n     the history of the Protestant Episcopal Church. The old ruts have\n     been obliterated, and new paths of progress have been opened. It\n     is our profound conviction that there has not been a convention\n     for many years which has revealed a prospect so encouraging for\n     truly liberal and evangelical principles.\u201d\n\nThe internal spirit of a legislative body is, however, hard to\nunderstand except from its public acts, and when there are no such\nsatisfactory acts, honest observers may differ in their judgment. The\nHigh Churchmen felicitate themselves that their tenets were not pulled\nto pieces, while Low Churchmen see a _spirit_ which accords with their\nsentiments, and so take courage for the future.\n\nIn spite of all these causes of happiness, the advanced ritualists\nfind much to complain of, because the bishops, _though apostles_, did\nnot realize their dignity, and the ministers, though _actually Catholic\npriests_, did not seem to know it. Besides their ignorance of\n\u201cliturgies, ritual, canon law, and theology,\u201d they were not reverent\nin the house of God, nor did they seem to feel that they were, what\nthe _Churchman_ calls them, \u201capostles, occupied with the faith and\npractice of the apostolic age, and framing their conduct and teaching\naccording to a model seventeen hundred years older than the systems\nrepresented by Protestant names.\u201d In church they seemed to forget the\n\u201creal presence,\u201d and to be only polite and sociable gentlemen, very\nglad to meet their friends of the nineteenth century. So says the\n_Church Weekly_:\n\n     \u201cMen and women seem too tired and excited for reverent devotion;\n     and not merely was loud talking and laughter going on at one end\n     of the building before the blessed sacrament was consumed, but,\n     within the very sanctuary, even bishops were seen exchanging the\n     courtesies of society with one hand, while with the other they\n     were holding the Lord\u2019s body and blood. The truth is, there\n     cannot be proper reverence when a building which is during one\n     hour the scene of exciting debate and the arena of unrestrained\n     conversation is, during the next, devoted to what ought to be the\n     solemn worship of Almighty God. Nearly all the clergy and laity,\n     ritualists included, seemed at times to forget that Emmanuel\n     Church, though used as a convention hall, was a consecrated house\n     of prayer. Constant introductions, subsequent chattings, mild\n     flirtations with ladies, and the frequent use of opera-glasses,\n     did a great deal towards destroying reverence for God\u2019s\n     sanctuary; and I could not but feel the evil habit engendered\n     there found its way into many of the churches in which divine\n     worship was held on the following Sunday.\u201d\n\nAs for the impression produced upon the world, we can take the spirit\nof the press, which has amused itself much in studying the science of\nusing words, and saying nothing, which the Protestant Episcopal\ncouncil possesses in the highest degree. Every one of the other\nProtestant bodies has a distinctive character, and uses words\naccording to the received interpretation of the dictionaries. The\nEpiscopalians, however, sit upon the fence, and turn their faces now\nto the north, and now to the south, and speak like the Sibyl, so as to\nbe on the safe side with every one. No one would venture to abridge       509\ntheir liberty, or even laugh at their peculiarities, if they did not\npretend to be above their brethren, and ape the exterior of the old\nchurch. Their phylacteries are many and large, and so not a few of\nthem carry a sign to prove that they are what they profess to be. In\nspite of what the world thinks, they are _priests_ and _bishops_, and\ntheirs (O tempora, O mores!) is the only pure _branch_ of the Catholic\nchurch. Their coats and cassocks beat us out-and-out, and they are\n_Catholics_, the only true Catholics, while we are Romanists.\n\nWhen we behold such a remarkable body, which claims, through its\nardent children, to be the most primitive and only pure church in\nexistence, we naturally are curious to find out what the doctrine of\nthis church is. Then, when it speaks enigmas, and has a language of\nits own, with no published dictionary, we are somewhat bewildered.\nSeriously, we think we have not exaggerated the sentiment of the\njournals of the day. They are amused at the spectacle of three weeks\u2019\nwork which has accomplished nothing, and at definitions of doctrine\nwhich can be construed in two contradictory senses. We do not believe\nthere is a living man who can tell what the doctrine of the Episcopal\nChurch is, nor a single member of that communion who has any clear\nideas on the subject. Each one may tell us what he believes for\nhimself, but his private opinion is not necessarily the creed of his\nchurch. If the Redeemer of men has left his religion in such hands, we\ncan only say that he has not shown human wisdom, and that his Gospel\nwill be of little use to mankind. Our further remarks will justify\nthese conclusions, and show that never since the creation has there\nbeen a body with so great pretensions and so little foundation for\nthem. This is not because the authorities do not sometimes speak\nplainly, but because the members of the church insist on interpreting\nwhatever they say according to their own ideas, and there is no final\ntribunal.\n\n2. With the exception of a few local canons on matters which have no\ngeneral interest, the convention, as such, has done nothing. We shall\ntry to give a fair synopsis of its doings, and let them speak for\nthemselves. As the _Christian Witness_ tells us, great attention has\nbeen paid to points of order, and the rules for the trying of bishops\nand ministers. This would lead us to conclude that either these canons\nhad been very imperfect, or that there are many and difficult cases of\ndelinquency. We incline to think, however, that there are not many bad\nministers, but that the wish to make laws and to speak on them is the\nparent of all these emendations of their code. Very few of the\nresolutions referred to the committee on canons have seen the light,\nbut are consigned to that \u201ctomb of the Capulets\u201d of which the\n_Church Journal_ speaks.\n\nThe different dioceses in the State of New York have been desirous of\nhaving a \u201cfederate council\u201d of their own, and some action was taken on\nthis subject. Not much satisfaction has been derived from this,\nbecause the journal most interested is acutely grieved. \u201cIt is sad,\u201d\nit says, \u201cto think that what is called the mind of the church is not\nyet ready for the _Provincial System_, or even a court of appeals. The\nfederate council of New York is granted sufficient power to keep it\nfrom dying of atrophy or inanition, but we fear it will prove only a\nsickly sort of existence after all.\u201d The particular benefit of the\nprovincial system in the Episcopalian hierarchy we do not see; but        510\nthis is none of our business. Our sympathies are with those who want\nit, and are unable to get it.\n\nA joint committee of bishops and ministers has been appointed or\ncontinued on _religious reform_ in Italy.\n\nAs far as we can learn, the labor of this committee will be very\narduous. They are to watch for Catholics and infidels in Italy who\nturn Episcopalians. There are not many of these converts, but for this\nvery reason they will be all the more difficult to find and provide\nfor.\n\nWe would humbly suggest that a _branch_ of their _branch_ of the _one_\nchurch be established there, with a bishop whose travelling expenses\nshould be prepaid, no matter what the cost may be. A committee in the\nUnited States can hardly be adequate to this critical work, for if\nthere is no Episcopalian minister at hand when a man or woman is at\nthe point of converting, he or she may be gathered in by a sect of\nProtestants who have no bishops. We should also have recommended that\nthis committee have power to act in Bavaria, especially as there is no\ntime to lose. Still, as our advice may not be understood, we do not\npress the subject. Old Dr. D\u00f6llinger has valid orders, and so has poor\nFather Hyacinthe, and might possibly be saved for the cause of\nEpiscopacy.\n\nAnother thing which moves us very much is the magnitude of the work\nagain thrown on the committee who are to seek for union with the\nEastern heretical churches. So little has been accomplished beyond an\nexchange of courtesies that we fear the means are not adequate to the\nend.\n\nAnglicans have already signified their willingness to throw the\n\u201cFilioque\u201d out of the creed, and to give up thus the doctrine of the\nTrinity, but this does not seem to bring the two or four bodies any\nnearer together. The Eastern churches still call the Anglicans\nheretical, and say they have no orders, while in all humility they\nprostrate themselves before the walls of Constantinople or St.\nPetersburg, and ask for the smallest smile of recognition. We do not\nthink the committee have done their duty, and, as the prophet urged\nthe priests of Baal, we beg them to persevere. These venerable\npatriarchs may possibly be asleep, or absent on a journey. If they\nwould ordain one of the Episcopal ministers, he would certainly be a\npriest, and perhaps the American Branch might be ordered to adopt the\nRussian Pontifical. It is very like the Roman, but then it could be\ntranslated into English. The same doctrines are more palatable in\nRussian or in Greek than they are in Latin, and the Eastern is a \u201cHoly\nOrthodox Church,\u201d while the Roman Catholic Church is _schismatical_\nand in great error. The Holy Orthodox Church, having anathematized the\nThirty-nine Articles, has touched rather severely the Anglican\npretensions, but our good friends here are able to bear more than this\nwithout being discouraged. Before these words reach the public, we\ntrust the Episcopal Committee will have had the opportunity to wait\nupon the Grand Duke Alexis and offer him Trinity Church for his\ncathedral during his stay in New York. A _branch_ that has been cut\noff from the parent trunk can be carried even some distance to shade a\nsprout that comes out of the ground of its own responsibility and from\nits own little root. \u201cHow good and pleasant a thing it is to see\nbrethren dwelling together in unity!\u201d\n\nAt the next convention, we hope to hear something of the effect of the\nregular resolutions which have been passed the last fifty years, and      511\nto hear if the old _branch_ will at last recognize the new branch\nplanted by Henry VIII. and his daughter Elizabeth, and watered by\nLuther and Calvin and their friends. A small casket containing the\nashes of Cyril Lucar might be carried in procession on this grand\noccasion, still in the future, with a tablet bearing in bold relief\nthe canons of the Synod of Bethlehem.\n\nWe pass to another of the doings of the convention, which has our\nunqualified approbation, accompanied only with the fear that the\nproject may not be successful.\n\nWe refer to \u201cthe revival of the _Scriptural diaconate_ of women,\u201d as\nthe bishops call it in their pastoral.\n\nThe Scripture here alluded to is probably the ninth to thirteenth\nverses of the fifth chapter of the First Epistle of St. Paul to\nTimothy:\n\n     \u201cLet a _widow_ be chosen, not under threescore years of age, who\n     hath been the wife of _one_ husband; having a testimony of her\n     good works, if she have educated children, if she have exercised\n     hospitality, _if she have washed the saints\u2019 feet_, if she have\n     ministered to them that suffer tribulation, if she have\n     diligently followed every good work. But the younger widows shun,\n     for when they have grown wanton in Christ, they will marry,\n     having damnation because they have made void their first faith.\n     And withal being idle, they learn to go about from house to\n     house, not only idle, but tattlers also, and inquisitive,\n     speaking things which they ought not.\u201d\n\nThe bishops do not say whether they propose to carry out these rules\nof St. Paul literally, but they seem to \u201cfeel an earnest desire that\nprudence and good sense may preside over every _effort_.\u201d The\ncommittee, whose report was substantially accepted, do not fix any\nrules as to the age of the postulants, nor do they utter one word\nabout widows. They use the term \u201csisterhoods\u201d in connection with\nremarks upon \u201cthe Ph\u0153bes and Priscillas of apostolic times,\u201d while\nwithout explanation they condemn \u201cthe false and pernicious system of\nthe Church of Rome.\u201d (A rose under any other name will _not_ smell so\nsweet.) These sisterhoods are to be established everywhere in\nhospitals and benevolent homes, and a central house or training school\nis recommended to fit the candidate for the various works of mercy.\nThese sisters are to be without vows, and so free to come and go,\nleave their various convents, and marry whenever they please.\n\nThe rule of obedience depends upon their own consent, and so they are\ntheir own masters, even when they live in community. We confess a\ngreat anxiety to see this system thoroughly tried, and to know, in the\ncourse of a few years, how many will remain and die in their\nconventual habit. Even if it fail, it is a step in the right\ndirection, and we are glad the committee did not rigidly adopt the\nrules of St. Paul. For if they were restricted to widows over sixty\nyears of age, they might not find many subjects, and in this climate\nthe deaconesses might be incapable of much work.\n\nThe action of the convention in regard to _ritualism_ is so remarkable\nthat we hardly know how to describe it.\n\nThe bishops in their pastoral have something to say on it, which we\nshall notice afterward. They, however, are only one-third of the\nconvention, and cannot of themselves pass any laws which shall have\nbinding force. It seems that, three years ago, when the matter was\ndiscussed, a committee was appointed to examine the subject, and\nreport a canon or canons to be enacted which might produce uniformity.\nThis committee reported very plainly, and gave an opinion which can be    512\nunderstood. They recommended a canon which should forbid all the\npeculiar actions of the ritualists, such as \u201cthe use of incense, the\nplacing or retaining a crucifix in any part of the church, the use of\nlights about the holy table, the elevation of the _elements_ in\nholy communion for the purpose of adoration, the mixing of water with\nthe wine, the washing of the priest\u2019s hands, the ablution of the\nvessels, the celebration of holy communion when there is no one to\nreceive, and using any prayers or services not contained in the\n_Book of Common Prayer_.\u201d This recommendation was referred to a joint\ncommittee, who, not being able to agree perfectly, brought forth as\nthe result of their labors the draft of a law which makes the rule of\nritual the _Prayer-Book_ and \u201cthe canons of the Church of England in\nuse in the American Provinces before 1789, and not subsequently\nsuperseded, altered, or repealed.\u201d Then, as few seemed to know about\nthese canons, it was determined to appoint a new committee to find out\nabout them, and inform the next General Convention. In the meantime,\nall mixed questions were to be settled by the bishops in their various\ndioceses, should it please them to interfere, or should any brother be\noffended by excess or defect of ritual. The evident result of all this\nlegislation was to leave the whole matter just where it was before.\nThis canon did not, however, seem to please. Some of the members\nwished to know what these \u201ccustoms before 1789\u201d were, before they\ncould intelligently act, and on a division of the house the project\nwas lost. Substitutes a little more decisive were offered, and they\ndid not meet with favor. The bishops, anxious as it would seem to have\nsome action taken on the subject, sent down to the deputies the\nfollowing resolution, which they had passed, and for which they asked\nthe concurrence of their brethren:\n\n     \u201c_Resolved_ (the House of Clerical and Lay Deputies\n     concurring), That the following canon be adopted and enacted, to\n     be entitled Canon ----:\n\n     \u201cThe elevation of the elements in the holy communion in such\n     manner as to expose them to the view of the people as objects\n     toward which adoration is to be made, in or after the prayer of\n     consecration, or in the act of administering them, or in carrying\n     them to or from the communicants, and any gesture, posture, or\n     act implying such adoration, and any ceremony not prescribed as\n     part of the order of the administration of the Lord\u2019s Supper or\n     holy communion in the _Book of Common Prayer_, and the\n     celebration or reception of the holy communion by any bishop or\n     priest when no person receives with him; likewise, the use, at\n     any administration of the holy communion, of any hymns, prayers,\n     collects, epistles, or gospels other than those appointed in the\n     authorized formularies of the church or under \u00a7 14 of canon 13,\n     title 1, of the Digest, are hereby forbidden.\u201d\n\nThis resolution was put to vote, and lost by a small majority on the\nclerical vote. The following proposition was then offered and adopted\nunanimously, which, so far as we know, was the end of the matter in\nthe convention:\n\n     \u201c_Resolved_, That this convention hereby expresses its decided\n     condemnation of all ceremonies, observances, and practices which\n     are fitted to express a doctrine foreign to that set forth in the\n     authorized standards of this church.\u201d\n\nA slight review of this remarkable action on the subject of ritual\nwill show that the bishops were anxious to pass a law against the\npractices peculiar to the few good people who are called ritualists,\nbut that they were outvoted by the clerical deputies, and that nothing    513\nhas been done which will have any weight. For who knows what the\ndoctrine set forth in the authorized standards of the Episcopal Church\nis? And who will determine when ceremonies contravene the doctrine\nabout which no one is certain? The Thirty-nine Articles speak plainly\nenough when they tell us that \u201cthe sacrament of the Lord\u2019s Supper was\nnot by Christ\u2019s ordinance reserved, carried about, lifted up, or\nworshipped,\u201d and that \u201cthe sacrifices of Masses were blasphemous\nfables and dangerous deceits.\u201d Yet we are told that these words do not\nmean anything which could forbid the elevation and adoration of the\nHoly Eucharist, or the private celebration of the sacrifice of the\nMass.\n\nWe are moreover informed that these articles are of no authority,\nalthough confessedly they are the only creed which the Protestant\nEpiscopal Church possesses. So, when men can thus seriously argue, and\nquietly look each other in the face, we despair of finding any words\nwhich cannot be misinterpreted. So, as they say, with thanks to God\nfor his great mercy, our ritual friends will go on, and do as they\nhave done, interpreting the standards to suit themselves, and, above\nall, taking advantage of that blessed _Use of Sarum_ which has been\nto them a source of so great consolation.\n\nAppropriately of all this, we give an extract from the _Church\nWeekly_, regulating the order of service for the third week of\nNovember.\n\n  [Column Header Key:\n    A = Day of Month.\n    B = Day of Week.\n    C = Concordance.\n    D = Observance.]\n                       KALENDAR FOR THE WEEK.\n\n  +----+-----+--------------------------------+--------+--------------------+\n  |    |     |                                |        |       |Altar Color.|\n  |  A |  B  |          NOVEMBER.             |    C   |    D  +------+-----+\n  |    |     |                                |        |       |Sarum.| Rom.|\n  +----+-----+--------------------------------+--------+-------+------+-----+\n  | 19 | S.  | 24th after Trinity,            |  ..    | Feast.|  R.  |  G. |\n  | 20 | M.  | [S. Edmund, K. M.,             | A[113] |   ..  |  R.  |  R. |\n  | 22 | W.  | [S. Cecilia, V. M.,            | C[113] |   ..  |  R.  |  R. |\n  | 23 | Th. | [S. Clement, Bp. Rome, M.,     |  ..    |   ..  |  R.  |  R. |\n  | 25 | S.  | [S. Katharine, V. M.,          | C[113] |   ..  |  R.  |  R. |\n  | 26 | S.  | Sunday next before Advent,[114]|  ..    | Feast.|  ..  |  G. |\n  +----+-----+--------------------------------+--------+-------+------+-----+\n\nIt must be observed that \u201cCalendar\u201d is spelt with a K, which is more\nancient, and that the \u201cauthorized standards\u201d of the Episcopal Rite\nhave nothing about S. Edmund, S. Cecilia, S. Clement, nor S. Catharine\n(spelt with a K). The \u201caltar color\u201d is also very useful, especially as\nthey give at the last column the Roman Rite. A friend of ours told us\nof a very solemn marriage which he witnessed in Trinity Church the\nother day. The Rev. Dr. Dix was the celebrant (as he thought), with a\ndeacon and subdeacon, all beautifully vested, and the candidates were\na young priest and a young lady, who in this most impressive manner\nwas to become his wife. Oh! what will the Greeks say to this? We fear\nthey will be scandalized, and that even the giving up of the\n\u201cFilioque\u201d will not prevent them from staring with eyes wide open. The    514\npriest said the nuptial mass, and the other priest and his wife\nreceived the holy communion and the sacrament of matrimony. How does\nthis compare with the services before 1789?\n\nWe cannot, however, pass over the action and language of the bishops\nin this matter. We suppose our Anglican friends will admit that\nneither priests nor laymen are by any rule of ecclesiastical antiquity\nallowed to judge in council on points of faith. This has generally\nbeen left to the episcopate, to which, in union with its head, Christ\ncommitted the government of his church. Now, for the advanced High\nChurchmen it is a sad fact that the bishops of their church have\nunqualifiedly condemned them. They have done this, first in the canon\nwhich they passed and sent down to the House of Deputies, and,\nsecondly, in the language of their pastoral, which is the accurate\nexpression of their doctrine. We know that their words can be\nexplained away, but we respectfully submit that this time the attempt\nto do so will be dishonesty. If these reverend fathers in God can\nspeak at all, then they have spoken. We give their words, and pray\nthey may fall upon the open ears of their children who bow down before\nthem as \u201capostles\u201d: \u201cThe doctrine which chiefly attempts to express\nitself by ritual, in questionable and dangerous ways, is connected\nwith the Holy Eucharist. That doctrine is emphatically _a novelty in\ntheology_. What is known as eucharistical adoration is undoubtedly\ninculcated and encouraged by that ritual of posture _lately_ introduced\namong us, which finds no warrant in our \u2018Office for the Administration\nof Holy Communion.\u2019\u201d They then go on to say that whatever presence of\nChrist there may be is such as does not allow him to be there\nworshipped, and that to adore the elements is \u201can awful error.\u201d We\ngive an extract from a writer in one of our New York journals, who\nseems, up to this time, to be honest in his understanding of his\nspiritual fathers:\n\n     \u201c3. There are bishops and--bishops; there are doctors\n     and--doctors. Here is the Bishop of Arizona, for instance, who\n     says that \u2018that doctrine (eucharistic adoration) is a _novelty in\n     theology_.\u2019 But there is St. Ambrose, whilom Bishop of Milan, who\n     says, \u2018We adore the flesh of Christ in the mysteries.\u2019 Here is\n     the Bishop of Central New York, who declares that \u2018the doctrine\n     and the practice which it implies are most certainly unauthorized\n     by Holy Scripture, and entirely aside from the purposes for which\n     the holy sacrament was instituted.\u2019 But there is St. Gregory of\n     Nazianzum, not recently, indeed, but most truly Bishop of\n     Constantinople, who used this expression, \u2018Calling upon him who\n     is worshipped upon the altar.\u2019 Here is the Bishop of Delaware,\n     who unites with the Bishop of Connecticut in saying that \u2018the\n     doctrine and the practice which it implies are most dangerous in\n     their tendencies.\u2019 But there is the poor Bishop of Hippo,\n     Augustine by name, who, unfortunately for his reputation,\n     committed himself to the declaration that \u2018no one eateth that\n     flesh till he have first adored.\u2019 And how many other bishops,\n     great and small, there are who have acted upon that dictum of the\n     misguided African, God only knows!\u201d\n\nHis appeal is from bishop to bishop, and from doctor to doctor,\naccording to his own private judgment. We are pained more than we can\nexpress at the malicious quibbles which distort words so emphatically\nplain. We submit that, if Jesus Christ _is_ present in the Eucharist,\nhe _must_ be adored by all but infidels; and, secondly, that, if the\nbread is his body, as he said it was, it cannot at the same time be\nbread, since two substances cannot coexist in the same space. All\nchanges of words upon the terms \u201cspiritual and corporal\u201d are only the\nunfortunate sophistries of a deceiver or of the deceived. If our          515\nritualistic brethren have any doubt as to the meaning of the bishops,\nlet them go and ask Dr. Smith, or Drs. Lee and Coxe, Potter and\nMcIlvaine. They will give a clear reply, we do believe.\n\nWe approach another and most important act of the Council of Episcopal\nbishops which will certainly render this convention memorable for all\ntime. They have, in the most solemn manner, given their definition of\nthe term \u201cregeneration\u201d which is used in the offices of their church.\nThe Twenty-seventh of the Thirty-nine Articles was probably framed to\nsuit different opinions among the followers of the Reformation of\nLuther. There baptism is called \u201ca sign of regeneration,\u201d though it is\nnot declared to be the instrument of regeneration, and may be only a\nmere sign without the substance. But the Office for Baptism in the\n_Prayer-Book_ is in no way equivocal. There it is distinctly taught\nthat the child baptized is regenerated by the Holy Spirit. According\nto all the received acceptation of words and the doctrine of\nformularies from which this office was derived, regeneration means the\nnew birth by which through divine mercy the child, naturally born of\nAdam, is supernaturally born again of water and the Holy Ghost,\nreceives the new life of grace, and becomes really the child of God.\nSuch are our Lord\u2019s words to Nicodemus, wherein he instructs him\nconcerning baptism: \u201cThat which is born of the flesh is flesh, and\nthat which is born of the Spirit is spirit.\u201d\n\nEver since the formation of the Episcopal Church the great majority of\nher members have found the words retained in the baptismal service\nonerous and out of place. For they do not believe in any such\ndoctrine, since they have adopted the heretical notions of Calvin and\nLuther concerning the new birth. Only a few High Churchmen have ever\nheld to baptismal regeneration, yet they have had the language of the\n_Prayer-Book_ to sustain them in controversy. One of the best and most\nlearned of the Episcopalian ministers, for many years professor in the\nGeneral Theological Seminary, taught that \u201cregeneration\u201d in the\nbaptismal service, by a special use of terms, meant only a \u201c_change of\nstate_,\u201d and that the doctrine that baptism was the new birth was\nutterly untenable in the Episcopal Church, and contrary to the whole\nspirit of its creed. The united voice of the bishops now comes to\ndeclare the same opinion, and to make of the regeneration taught in\ntheir offices only such an external change by which the child is\npromised unto God, and, without any interior operation, is adopted\ninto the visible fold of Christ. We give the language of this most\nremarkable definition:\n\n                 DECLARATION OF THE BISHOPS IN COUNCIL,\n                            OCTOBER 11, 1871.\n\n     \u201cWe, the subscribers, Bishops of the Protestant Episcopal Church\n     in the United States, being asked, in order to the quieting of\n     the consciences of sundry members, of the said church, to declare\n     our convictions as to the meaning of the word \u2018regenerate\u2019 in the\n     \u2018Offices for the Ministration of Baptism for Infants,\u2019 do declare\n     that in our opinion the word \u2018regenerate\u2019 is not there so used as\n     to determine that a moral change in the subject of baptism is\n     wrought in the sacrament.\u201d\n\nTo this declaration are appended the signatures of forty-eight\nbishops, all but two, we believe, of the whole of their hierarchy. Now\nwe were somewhat prepared for attempts to wrest the meaning of these\nvery plain words, but not for the flagrant dishonesty of some of the\nHigh Church journals. Let us call things by their right names, and\nspeak the truth, if need be, in all sadness. We were not prepared to\nhear that \u201cthe bishops were not asked nor did they profess to say         516\nwhat regeneration means\u201d; that in saying what it was not, they aimed\nto give no explanation whatever of the word. We give two short\nextracts, one from the _Churchman_, and the other from the _Church\nWeekly_, which for candor and sincerity certainly deserve the first\npremium:\n\n     \u201cThe object aimed at was \u2018the quieting of the consciences of\n     sundry members of the church.\u2019 It was not to give an exhaustive\n     definition of the word. Certain persons claimed that the term\n     might be interpreted to signify a moral change in the subject of\n     baptism. They knew that many would so understand it. And so the\n     bishops, being asked, stated what no sound churchman ever denied,\n     and no well-read theologian and respectable student of the\n     meaning of language ever denied, namely, \u2018that the word is not so\n     used\u2019 in that connection. The thing asked for was granted. The\n     object aimed at was accomplished, and those who represented the\n     unquiet consciences have acknowledged their grateful\n     appreciation.\n\n     \u201cWe can illustrate this point by a single example. Some readers\n     of the Bible may think that, whenever the word \u2018day\u2019 occurs in\n     the first chapters of Genesis, it must mean a period of\n     twenty-four hours. Common people have come to understand it in\n     that sense. Now, suppose that the question has been raised in\n     some Baptist or Congregational \u2018Sabbath-school.\u2019 The teachers\n     think a declaration from their pastor or bishop--if they please\n     to call him so--to the effect that the word does not of necessity\n     imply a period of time limited to twice twelve hours, would quiet\n     the consciences of some of their pupils who have studied geology.\n     Suppose the thing asked for is granted: are we, therefore, to\n     conclude that the pastor has pretended to give a definition of\n     the word \u2018day,\u2019 and to state exactly \u2018what it does mean\u2019? Shall\n     we speak of him as having \u2018grappled with\u2019 the creation question,\n     and yet \u2018failed to tell a waiting\u2019 Sabbath-school what the exact\n     time indicated by that word \u2018day\u2019 was--whether ten thousand\n     years, as some believe, or, as others think, ten million?\u201d\n\n     \u201cAlas! the House of Bishops have put forth a definition which is\n     _no_ definition! They pretend to define, and yet they do _not_\n     define! There is not a churchman, however ignorant of theology,\n     who does not laugh in his sleeve at this pseudo-definition, which\n     will have the effect, however, of making manifest either the\n     ignorance or the insincerity of \u2018Evangelicals,\u2019 provided that\n     they remain in the church. For, if the latter remain therein\n     after this, it must be either because they cannot tell a\n     definition from an evasion of a question, or because they are in\n     search of some excuse for not carrying out those boisterous\n     threats with which they have been for some time past making both\n     day and night hideous to all peaceful churchmen.\u201d\n\nThe respect here shown to these right reverend fathers in God is\nnearly as great as their honesty. Now, we insist that the new birth of\nwater and the Holy Ghost implies a _moral change_ of the most important\nkind, and that even the forgiveness of original sin cannot take place\nwithout such a change. We will take the words of the Episcopal\nCatechism, and leave it to any just mind if regeneration determines a\n_moral change_. There we are taught that the inward grace, inseparable\nfrom baptism, else it is no sacrament, is \u201ca death unto sin and a new\nbirth unto righteousness; for, being by nature born in sin, and the\nchildren of wrath, we are hereby made the children of grace.\u201d To be\nmade the child of grace surely requires a moral change, which the\nbishops deny. They will, therefore, have to put out a new catechism or\na new dictionary. As for the quibbles upon the sense of the word\n\u201cdetermine,\u201d as if the venerable prelates meant to sport with the\ncommon sense of their constituents, they are too paltry to deserve the\nnotice of any respectable man. The plain fact is beyond dispute, that\nthe supreme authority of the Protestant Episcopal Church has formally\ndenied the doctrine of baptismal regeneration, which is contained in\nthe Catechism and Office for Baptism. In this they have only spoken       517\nthe real feeling and belief of the great majority of their religious\ncommunion since the time of its formation. Of this wonderful\ndeclaration, they say in their pastoral that \u201cthey have, with an\nextraordinary unanimity, set forth a definition touching their offices\nfor the baptism of infants.\u201d The declaration, they inform us, \u201cwas\nmade in the loving hope that many consciences might thus be for ever\nfreed from false impressions concerning the teaching of the church, as\nrespects spiritual religion and personal piety.\u201d\n\nWe have no right to expect any accurate use of terms in the language\nof those who, according to the testimony of many of their children,\nknow nothing of canon law or theology; yet here we have a plain\nstatement which admits of but one interpretation. The bishops at the\nnext convention may retract it or deny it, and individuals among them\nmay gravely say that they do not receive a doctrinal definition which\nthey signed. Stranger things have happened. The two who did not sign\nit are, we are told, High Churchmen of the old, dry school, while the\nhopeful abettors of ritualism have gone down under this cloud, from\nwhose darkness they can never clear themselves before an honest\npublic.\n\nWe pass on to notice the further action of the reverend prelates in\ncouncil, since to us ecclesiastics they are the only part of the\nconvention who are properly judges in doctrine or discipline. Having\ndenied regeneration in holy baptism, and the real presence of Christ\nin the Eucharist, they have, with like unanimity, attacked and\nforbidden, as far as they may, _private confession_. Sometimes, they\ninform us, a soul is so burdened with its sinfulness as to desire \u201can\nauthoritative assurance of forgiveness.\u201d This, however, in their view,\nis by no means necessary, nor is it \u201cthe duty of Christians, or\nessential to any high attainments in the religious life.\u201d \u201cPardon,\u201d\naccording to them, \u201cis granted to any child of God, on his repentance,\naccompanied by prayer, and reliance upon the promises of Christ, as\nwell as on the use of the means of grace.\u201d What means of grace are\nhere intended does not appear. To make confession, therefore, \u201ca thing\ncustomary, not exceptional, enforced, not free, is to rob Christ\u2019s\nprovision (what provision?) of its mercy, and to change it into an\nengine of oppression and a source of corruption. History demonstrates\nthis, and the experience of families, and even of nations, shows that\nthe worst practical evils are inseparable from this great abuse. To\npervert the godly counsel and advice which may quiet a disturbed\nconscience into the _arbitrary direction_ which _supplants_ the\nconscience, is to do away with that sense of moral responsibility\nunder which every man shall give account of himself to God.\u201d\n\nThis is not the place to point out the gross ignorance and prejudice\nof the Episcopal bishops. They speak of what they know nothing, having\nnever confessed their own sins, nor felt the need of any\n\u201cauthoritative assurance of pardon.\u201d To assert a wholesale slander of\none of the most sacred institutions of Christ, hallowed by the\npractice of three-fourths of all who call themselves Christians, which\nis really the great source of the little purity left in the world, is\na fearful crime before heaven. We acquit them, therefore, in charity,\nof the intention to slander, and hold them culpably ignorant. All this\nis, however, beyond the scope of our present purpose. We have only to\nsay that they have forbidden, as far as their words go, the _ordinary_    518\npractice of confession, and that they deprecate it as \u201can engine of\noppression and a source of corruption.\u201d It remains now to be seen\nwhether these counsels of the chief pastors of the Protestant\nEpiscopal Church are to be followed by their children who think them\nto be successors of the apostles and fathers in God. Will the Right\nRev. Dr. Potter, who once published, as we have been informed, a\nmanual for the examination of conscience, to whom a prayer-book, with\ndirections for confession, has been publicly dedicated, now interfere\nand put a stop to this great abuse? Will the handful of _ritual\npriests_ in this city cease to sit in their pews or their libraries\nto hear and absolve penitents? To speak our honest opinion, the words\nof the bishops will have no influence whatever, and things will go on\nprecisely as they did before. We only venture to wish, for the sake of\npropriety, that confessionals might be erected in all these churches,\nwhere at least the female penitents might be heard. We assure our\nfriends that this advice comes from a good heart. If they cannot hear\nconfessions in public, they would do well for themselves not to hear\nthem at all.\n\nThe most reverend prelates go on to condemn \u201cthe tendency towards\nsaint-worship, and especially its culmination in the worship of the\nBlessed Virgin.\u201d \u201cThe bare suggestion that the intercession of the\nVirgin Mary, or of any other saint, is in any way to be sought in our\napproaches to the throne of grace, is an _indignity_ to the one only\nMediator and Intercessor which we, his _apostolic_ witnesses, cannot\ntoo strongly nor distinctly forbid in his holy and all-sufficient\nname.\u201d Is this language plain enough for our ritualistic friends? Do\nthey think these words equivocal? They as _apostles_ have forbidden\nany one to seek the prayers of the Mother of God or of any other\nsaint. To do so is to offer indignity to Christ, according to their\ntheology. On the same principle, Episcopalians must not ask the\nprayers of each other, unless they wish to insult the one Intercessor.\nThe reason why the saints cannot intercede for us is that Jesus Christ\nalone may do it. We cannot, therefore, suppose that living men or\nwomen are in a different position in this respect from their departed\nbrethren, especially from the great heroes of Christianity. We really\nblush at the stupidity of men who call themselves teachers and wear\nepiscopal robes, but it is not our business to criticise their\ndirections to their flock. We simply put before the world what they\nhave so plainly said. All invocation of any one but Christ is to be\nstopped within their communion by their solemn decree, if, indeed, it\nwas ever practised.\n\nFrom this restriction of prayer, they pass on to condemn the\ndevotional books which \u201chave been insidiously multiplied of late years\nin England and America, and are alien in their character to the whole\nspirit of the Liturgy.\u201d We presume they here refer to the translations\nof Catholic books of devotion which have become for some time past the\npious nourishment of all the advanced Episcopalians. We have seen many\nof these works ourselves, and have even seen the _Book of Common Prayer_\nbound up with parts of the Missal, and preparations for communion and\nconfession taken from well-known Catholic authors. This, to say the\nleast, is an acknowledgment that their own church does not feed their\nsouls, and that they seek a life it can neither give nor support. This\nalone ought to be sufficient to send them where they can find a           519\nreligious system according with their wants. Certainly they can do as\nthey like in the matter. They can put on all our vestments, and their\nbishops may wear rings and crosses, and bear mitres and crosiers, and\nthey may cross themselves with the left hand, and bow down before an\naltar which is only wood or stone. They may call themselves the only\nCatholics in the world, and out-herod Herod himself, and quietly put\nus Romanists in the shade. But we think the bishops are right to tell\nthem that all this is inconsistent with Episcopalianism, and that they\nought to be either one thing or the other. A man has a right _before\nthe law_ to play the Harlequin; but has he a _moral_ right to do so?\nIs it an honest or fair thing to remain in a church and use devotions\nand teach doctrines which it condemns? Much is said of \u201cthat liberty\nwherewith Christ has made us free.\u201d But can that be a liberty to\ncontradict ourselves, to profess to be what we are not, and to carry\nprivate judgment to absurdity? We are forced in reason to commend the\nadvice of the bishops, and to say with them to our good friends,\n\u201cGentlemen and ladies, if you wish to use Catholic books, be kind\nenough to go where they belong. Please do not attempt to foist upon\nour people a spirituality which is foreign to our Protestant\ncommunion.\u201d From our past knowledge, however, we do not believe that\nthe counsel of the reverend fathers will produce much effect. We shall\nstill as ever have Catholic books of devotion luxuriously bound (the\nbinding goes a great ways), \u201cand adapted to the use of the _American\nChurch_.\u201d For our own part, we hope that this will be the case, since\nthe recitation of our prayers, and the reading of the masters of the\nspiritual life, may do much to lead souls to the one true faith.\n\n3. A few remarks will now suffice to show the position in which the\nProtestant Episcopal Church has placed herself by the action of this\nconvention. If we regard the whole body, including the laymen as well\nas the clerical deputies, we can see how true to its birthmarks has\nbeen the legislation of a communion which glories in the non-committal\ncharacter of its creed and profession. Two or three parties, with\nviews diametrically opposite, are thus kept together, and in the\ndiversity of opinions is the safety of the whole. When the Episcopal\nChurch begins to have anything like a faith, then will it fall to\npieces, and new sects will arise of its component parts. How long it\nwill go on holding together High Church and Low Church, Broad Church\nand no church at all, we do not know. But this we think, its\nProtestant character is now well established to all mankind. Not one\nsingle link which could bind it to the doctrine or practice of the\npast has been left. If it will not baptize itself with the names of\nLuther, Calvin, or Zwingle, it can boast of no father or mother. In\nthe words of its Bishop Lee, if it is not a _Protestant_ church, it\ndisowns its birth, and has no right to be called a church. Through the\nmost solemn action of its supreme authority it has denied the real\npresence of Christ in the Holy Eucharist, the regeneration of children\nin baptism, the intercession of the saints, and the practice of\nconfession. As for the ritualists, they have been handled without\nmercy, and their whole system of faith and worship summarily\ncondemned. It will be of little avail to them to say that the bishops\nonly have pronounced a decision, and that the division of the clerical\nand _lay vote_ in four or five dioceses saved them from a prohibitory     520\ncanon of the whole convention. Are the presbyters and lay deputies the\nsuccessors of the apostles, whom the Lord instituted to govern the\nchurch of God? Who made the sheep of the flock the judges in\necclesiastical causes?\n\nWe have no heart to believe that the condemnation of the bishops will\ndo any good with the majority of them. A few earnest souls will come,\none by one, into the true fold of the Good Shepherd, where a man has\nto _receive_ and obey Christ, and not _make_ a religion for himself.\nYet we fear, and with sadness we say it, that no power whatever could\nopen the eyes of many. If their church should deny the Holy Trinity or\nthe incarnation of God the Son, they would explain away the denial.\nBlow after blow with a rough hand has been given to these so-called\nCatholics within the past few years. Many are not shaken, but in spite\nof all the decisions of their councils and the admonition of their\npastors, they go on insisting on vanity, erecting an idol which their\nown hands have made, and blindly falling down to worship it. Who shall\nreason with men who have histories and even grammars and dictionaries\nof their own? Who but God in his infinite mercy can roll away the\ndarkness of hearts which walk in a vain shadow and disquiet themselves\nfor naught, calling evil good and good evil? Here logic is wasted, and\nthe past, with its lessons, ignored, as if the Word made flesh had\nnever been on earth, nor quickened with divine grace our fallen\nhumanity. Fellow-Catholics, let us to prayer, that such souls may not\ndie eternally out of their Father\u2019s house, strangers to the Bread of\nLife. In their great need, the pitying heart of Jesus crucified will\nhear, and scales shall fall from many eyes. Oh! how sad to travel long\nand far in this weary life, and then only to see from a distance the\npromised land, but never to rest in the tabernacles of the God of\nJacob.\n\n\n     [113] Except in American Church.\n\n     [114] Give notice of S. Andrew\u2019s Day.\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n                          CHATEAU REGNIER.\n\n             A CHRISTMAS STORY OF THE TWELFTH CENTURY.\n\n\n                                 I.\n\nA proud man was the Baron Regnier. In the old days of Charlemagne, the\nChateau Regnier had risen, a modest mansion on the pleasant banks of\nthe Garonne. That great monarch died; his empire fell to pieces; the\nlords became each one an independent sovereign in his own castle,\nmaking perpetual war on each other, and electing kings who could\nenforce neither respect nor obedience. Then the Chateau Regnier was\nenlarged and fortified, its retainers and vassals became numerous,\nand, as was the method of growing rich in those times, large parties\nof horsemen would sally from its gates, as suited their pleasure or\nnecessities, to plunder neighboring lords or defenceless travellers.\n\nThe Barons Regnier were brave men; never was there a brilliant or         521\ndangerous expedition wherein some scion of the house did not\ndistinguish himself. When the first preaching of the Crusades stirred\nthe soul of Europe, there was bustle of preparation and burnishing of\nweapons at the ch\u00e2teau; even in the motley company of Peter the Hermit\nwent one of the younger sons of the family, who did his part of\nplundering in Hungary and Dalmatia, and perished on the shores of the\nBosphorus; and in the more orderly expedition that followed, the\nreigning baron himself led a brave array under the banner of Raymond\nof Toulouse.\n\nThe return of the crusaders brought more refined tastes into France,\nthough not more peaceable manners. The Ch\u00e2teau Regnier was enriched\nand beautified; troubadours gathered there; feasts were continually\nspread; still plunder and anarchy were the order of the day till the\nreign of Louis le Gros. That energetic king devoted his life to\nestablishing law and order in France. Then the house of Regnier,\nhaving plundered all that it conveniently could, took part with the\nking to prevent all further plundering, so it grew strong in its\npossessions.\n\nWith such a line of ancestry to look back on, no wonder that the Baron\nRegnier was proud. He himself in his youth had shared in the disasters\nof a crusade. After his return home, he had married a beautiful wife,\nwhom he tenderly loved; but his happiness had been of short duration;\nin three years after their union she died, leaving him an image of\nherself--a frail and lovely little being, the last flower on the\nrugged stem of that great house.\n\nA lovely land is the south of France. Two thousand years ago the old\ngeographer of Pontus[115] called it the Beautiful, and its soft\n_langue d\u2019or_ is the very language of love. It was on the shores of\nthe Garonne, in the twelfth century, that the troubadours sang their\nsweetest songs. Among them was found Pierre Rogiers, who wearied once\nof the cloister, and so wandered out into the world--to the court of\nthe beautiful Ermengarde of Narbonne, to the palaces of Aragon, at\nlast to the shores of the Garonne, and, finding everywhere only vanity\nof vanities, once more entered the gates of the monastery and lay down\nto die.\n\nHere, too, lived Bernard de Ventadour, who loved and celebrated in his\nsongs more than one royal princess. Here he dwelt in courtly splendor,\ntill he too grew weary of all things earthly, and yearned for the\nquiet of the cloister, and, wrapping the monk\u2019s robe around him, he\ntoo died in peace.\n\nNo wonder if Clemence Regnier, growing up a beautiful girl in the\nmidst of these influences, should yield her soul to the soft\npromptings of affection. She was the favorite companion of her father;\nno wish of hers was ungratified; her sweetness of temper endeared her\nto all around her. She was sought in marriage by many rich nobles of\nToulouse; she refused them all, and gave her preference to the younger\nson of a neighboring baron--a penniless and landless knight.\n\nWhen the old baron first discovered their mutual attachment, he was at\nfirst incredulous, then amazed, then angry. He persistently and\nperemptorily refused his consent. The De Regniers had for so long\nmarried, as they had done everything else, only to augment their power\nand wealth, that a marriage where love and happiness only were            522\nconsidered, was an absurd idea to the baron.\n\n\u201cThis comes of all these _jongleurs_ and their trashy songs!\u201d he\nexclaimed; \u201cthey have got nothing to do but wander about the world and\nturn girls\u2019 and boys\u2019 heads with their songs. I\u2019ll have no more of\nthem here!\u201d\n\nSo the baron turned all poets and musicians out of his ch\u00e2teau, but he\ncould not turn love and romance out; the young heart of Clemence was\ntheir impregnable citadel, and there they held their ground against\nall the baron\u2019s assaults.\n\nFour years went by; Clemence was pining away with grief, for she loved\nher father and she loved her lover; at last, her love for the latter\nprevailed, and, trusting to win the old baron\u2019s forgiveness\nafterwards, Clemence fled from the ch\u00e2teau with the young Count de\nRegnault.\n\nBaron de Regnier was a man who, when moderately irritated, gave vent\nto his wrath in angry words, but when deeply wounded he was silent;\nand here both his pride and his affection had been wounded most\ndeeply.\n\nHe signified to the guests at the castle that they might depart; he\nclosed the grand halls, keeping near him a few old servants; dismissed\nhis chaplain, whom he suspected, though falsely, of having married the\nrunaway couple, and who had been their messenger to him, begging for\nhis forgiveness and permission to come to him; closed his chapel\ndoors; and shut himself up, gloomy and alone, in a suite of rooms in a\nwing of the ch\u00e2teau.\n\nMany loving and penitent messages came to him from Clemence. At first\nhe took no notice of them: at last, to one he returned an answer--\u201cHe\nwould never see her again.\u201d\n\n\n                                 II.\n\nThe summer came and the winter, and many a summer and winter passed,\nand the dreariest domain in all France was the once merry Ch\u00e2teau\nRegnier. Year after year the old man brooded alone. If friendship or\nchance brought guests to the ch\u00e2teau, they were received with stately\nformality, which forbade their stay; rarely did a stranger pass a\nnight within its walls. The retainers kept their Christmas holidays as\nbest they might; no great hall was opened and lighted, no feast was\nspread. They wondered how long the baron would live such a life, and\nwhat would become of the ch\u00e2teau should he die, for he had no heir to\ntake it.\n\nTen years passed: the old man began to grow tired at last of his\nsolitude; he listened to the voice of conscience--it reproached him\nwith ten long years of neglected duties. The first thing he did was to\nopen the doors of his chapel. He sent for artisans and ordered it to\nbe repaired and refitted, then he sent a messenger to the Bishop of\nToulouse, asking him to send a chaplain to the Ch\u00e2teau Regnier.\n\nThe church was in those days what she is now--the great republic of\nthe world; but at that time she was the _only_ republic, the one\nimpregnable citadel where, through all the centuries that we call the\nmiddle ages, the liberties and the equality of men held their ground\nagainst hereditary right and feudal despotism. In the monastery the\nprior was often of lowly birth, while among the humbler brethren whom\nhe ruled might be found men of patrician, even of royal lineage.\nVirtue and talent were the only rank acknowledged; the noble knelt and\nconfessed his sins, and received absolution from the hand of the serf.    523\nThus, beside the princely-born Bernard we see the name of Fulbert, the\nillustrious Bishop of Chartres, raised to the episcopal throne from\npoverty and obscurity--as he himself says, \u201c_sicut de stercore pauper_\u201d;\nand the life-long friend and minister of Louis the Sixth, Suger, the\nabbot of St. Denis, and regent of France, was the son of a bourgeois\nof St. Omer.\n\nSo it happened that when the baron sent to the Bishop of Toulouse for\na chaplain, a young priest, who was the son of a vassal of Ch\u00e2teau\nRegnier, threw himself at the prelate\u2019s feet, and begged that he might\nbe sent. The bishop looked on him with surprise and displeasure.\n\n\u201cMonseigneur,\u201d said the priest, \u201cyou reproach me in your heart for\nwhat appears to you my presumption and boldness in making this\nrequest. I have a most earnest reason, for the love of God, in asking\nthis; for a very brief time do I ask to remain chaplain at the Ch\u00e2teau\nRegnier, but I do most earnestly ask it.\u201d So he was sent.\n\nThe young P\u00e8re Rudal had been in his childhood a favorite with the\nbaron. It was the baron who had first taken notice of the bright boy,\nand who had sent him away to the great schools of Lyons to be\neducated; and now, when he saw his former favorite return to him, the\nold man\u2019s heart warmed again, and opened to the young priest.\n\nIt was with strange emotions that the P\u00e8re Rudal stood once more in\nthe home of his childhood. When a careless boy there, with no very\npractical plans for life, he had loved, with a boy\u2019s romantic love,\nthe beautiful Clemence. He was something of a dreamer and poet; she\nhad been the queen of his reveries. He was the child of a vassal, and\nshe of noble birth. This thought saddened him, and many were the\nditties wherein he bewailed, in true troubadour fashion, this mournful\nfact; but that he was a boy of twelve when she was a girl of seventeen\ndid not at the time occur to him.\n\nAfter he had gone to the university he heard of her departure from her\nfather\u2019s castle, and the old man\u2019s unforgiving anger against her. The\nthought of her grief kept the remembrance of her in his heart, and\nnow--though he could laugh at those old dreams of romance--he could\nlove her with a nobler love. He knew the baron\u2019s former predilection\nfor himself, and he prayed daily to heaven that he might once more see\nher restored to her father\u2019s halls.\n\nAt the ch\u00e2teau now he was the baron\u2019s constant companion. He led the\nold man little by little to interest himself once more in the duties\nof life--in plans for ameliorating the condition of some of the poor\nvassals--in some improvements in the ch\u00e2teau. Before two years had\npassed the old man seemed to love him like a son. Yet often a cloud\npassing over the weary face, a deep sigh, a sudden indifference to all\nearthly things, betrayed the lifelong grief of the baron\u2019s heart, and\nthe thought still kept of her whom that heart so truly loved but would\nnot pardon.\n\nIt was drawing near to the Christmas season, when one day P\u00e8re Rudal\nsaid to the Baron:\n\n\u201cMy lord, more than a year have I been with you, and although you have\nheaped many favors upon me, I have never yet solicited one; now I am\ngoing to ask one.\u201d\n\n\u201cMy dear friend and companion,\u201d replied the baron, \u201cwhatever is in my\npower, you know you have only to ask.\u201d\n\n\u201cIn the old days,\u201d continued the priest, \u201cthis ch\u00e2teau of yours saw\nmany a gay feast, especially at the Christmas-tide; then there were       524\nnobles and ladies here; now it has grown gloomy and silent. What I ask\nis, that this Christmas you will give an entertainment, but one of a\nnovel kind; let the halls be opened and a banquet spread, and invite\nall your poor neighbors, your vassals, your retainers, their wives and\nchildren; let none be omitted: do this for the love of that little\nChild who was so poor and outcast for love of us. I myself will\nsuperintend the whole, and pledge myself for the good conduct and\nhappiness of all; and moreover, you yourself will accompany and remain\namong your guests, at least for a little while. I know I am making a\nbold request in asking this, but I am sure you will not refuse it, and\nI promise you will not repent of it.\u201d\n\nThe baron acceded to the request. Had he been asked to entertain grand\ncompany at his castle, in his present mood he would have refused at\nonce and haughtily; but he was too generous to refuse anything asked\nin the name of the poor; besides, he felt in his heart the truth of\nwhat the young priest had said to him: \u201cThere is no solace for grief\nlike that of solacing the sorrows of others; and no happiness like\nthat of adding to their happiness.\u201d\n\n\n                                III.\n\nChristmas Day came; and, after the Grand Mass was over, the great hall\nof the ch\u00e2teau was opened, and tables were spread with abundance of\ngood cheer; there were presents for the little children too; and there\nwere _jongleurs_ who, instead of the customary love ditties, sang old\nChristmas carols in the soft Proven\u00e7al dialect. Amidst the hilarity\nthere was, what by no means was common in those days, order and\ndecorum. This was due in part to the restraint and awe inspired by the\nold ch\u00e2teau--opened for the first time in so many years; but more to\nthe presence in their midst of the baron and the priest, who passed\nfrom one group to another with a kind word to each.\n\nAfter a while the priest laid his hand on the baron\u2019s arm:\n\n\u201cLet us retire to yonder oriel window--there we may sit in quiet and\ncontemplate this merry scene.\u201d\n\nThe baron gladly escaped from the crowd, but, as he seated himself, a\nsigh of weariness escaped him, and a cloud gathered on his brow.\n\n\u201cHow happy you have made all these good people,\u201d said the priest. \u201cThe\nmerriment of children has something contagious in it, has it not?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat have I to do with the merriment of other people\u2019s children--I, a\npoor childless old man?\u201d\n\nThe baron spoke bitterly; for the first time in his life had he made\nan allusion to his griefs.\n\n\u201cBut see these three pretty little children coming towards us,\u201d the\npriest continued; \u201cwe did not see them as we passed through the hall.\u201d\nAnd he beckoned them nearer--a little girl about eight years old, a\nlittle boy some two or three years younger, and the smallest just able\nto walk: beautiful children they were, but dressed in the ordinary\ndress of peasant children.\n\n\u201cDo not refuse to kiss these pretty little ones for the love of the\nlittle Child who was born to-day,\u201d pleaded the priest, as he raised\none on his own knee. \u201cNow, my lord, if it were the poorest vassal in\nyour domains, would he not be a happy man whom these pretty ones\nshould call grandpapa?\u201d\n\nThe baron\u2019s face assumed a look of displeasure. \u201cI want no more of\nthis; entertain your guests as you please, but spare me my presence       525\nhere any further. I am glad if I can do anything towards making others\nhappy, but happiness for myself is gone in this world.\u201d\n\n\u201cO my lord!\u201d said the P\u00e8re Rudal, \u201cwhy is your happiness gone? Because\nyou have cast it away. When your daughter, your Clemence, threw\nherself and her little ones at your feet, and prayed you, for the love\nof the little Child born in Bethlehem, to take _her_ little ones to\nyour heart, why did you coldly turn away and refuse her?\u201d\n\nThe baron turned to him with unfeigned surprise. \u201cWhat do you mean?\u201d\nsaid he. \u201cI have never seen her since, and her children never.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut you see them now.\u201d\n\n\u201cO father!\u201d said a well-known voice, and his own daughter Clemence was\nkneeling in the midst of her little ones at his feet.\n\nThe old man sank back in his seat--his daughter\u2019s arm was thrown\naround his neck--her head was resting on his heart--and after an\ninstant\u2019s struggle between love, the divine instinct, and pride, the\nhuman fault, his arm was clasped closely about her. P\u00e8re Rudal lifted\nup the youngest child, and placed it on the baron\u2019s knee, and then\nquietly stole away.\n\nA merry place was the Ch\u00e2teau Regnier after that night; the rooms and\nhalls were opened to the daylight--there was romping and laughing of\nchildren from one end of it to the other. The Count de Regnault was\nsent for on the very next day after that happy Christmas, and was\nembraced by the baron as a son--and evermore thereafter, with great\nsplendor and merriment, was that feast held at the ch\u00e2teau; so that\nthe Christmas festivals of Ch\u00e2teau Regnier became famous throughout\nFrance.\n\nAs for the young priest--that night, after he had seen Clemence once\nmore in her father\u2019s arms, he left the ch\u00e2teau and never returned to\nit. He went away to Toulouse, and wrote from thence to the baron,\ntelling him that his love for him and his was unalterable, but his\nmission at the ch\u00e2teau was accomplished; the voice of duty called him\nelsewhere; and he begged the baron\u2019s consent to depart. The baron gave\nhis acquiescence reluctantly. P\u00e8re Rudal soon after entered the order\nof the Trinitarians, for the redemption of captives, which had been\nrecently established, and perished on a voyage to Tunis.\n\n\n     [115] \u039a\u03b1\u03bb\u1f74 \u03b4\u1f72 \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f21 \u03c4\u1ff6\u03bd \u0391\u1f50\u03c3\u03ba\u03af\u03c9\u03bd--_Strabo._\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n                        THE \u201cBROAD SCHOOL.\u201d\n\n          What is your \u201cBroad School\u201d now, Professor, say,\n          But the booking-office of the old \u201cBroad Way\u201d?\n                                                 AUBREY DE VERE.\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n          THE LIQUEFACTION OF THE BLOOD OF ST. JANUARIUS.                 526\n\n                               NO. V.\n\n\nThe direct and positive arguments which we have presented in our last\narticle, bearing on the miraculous character of the liquefaction,\ncover the ground so entirely that we might, indeed, rest our case on\ntheir presentation. We need, however, make no apology for going\nfurther, and examining also, and somewhat in detail, the difficulties\nand counter-statements which have been made, from time to time, by\nthose who deny its miraculous character. Truth shrinks from no\nexamination or proper test.\n\nWe are confident that, the more closely those objections are examined,\nthe weaker they will be found to be; and their weakness is an\nadditional argument for the truth of our conclusion.\n\nThe general charge is that this liquefaction is effected by some trick\nor other on the part of the priests. A vague charge by itself means\nnothing, and is of no value. To be worth anything, there must follow a\n\u201cspecification,\u201d some indication or explanation of the precise mode or\ntrick by which the liquefaction is effected. HOW IS IT DONE?\nThis is the first question to which a reply must be given, before the\nobjectors can come into court.\n\nThe replies to it have been numerous, very numerous--in fact, so\nnumerous as to lose all real value: they are so wonderfully discordant\nand so contradictory.\n\nThe liquefaction of the blood of St. Januarius has occurred, during\nthe last two hundred and fifty years--to go no further back just\nnow--at least four thousand times; in public, without any attempt at\nconcealment, under the eyes of believers and unbelievers alike,\nstanding on every side and within a few feet, it may be, in immediate\ncontact with the officiating clergyman, and, therefore, possessing\nample opportunity for the closest and most critical inspection of\neverything concerning it. Under such circumstances, it is\ninconceivable that the precise trick, or fraud, or secret, if there\nwere any, should remain undiscovered. Yet, that no such discovery has\nbeen made is perfectly clear from this striking disagreement among\nthose who charge that there is fraud, as soon as they undertake to\nstate distinctly in what the fraud or trick consists. What one\nproposes is scouted by another as so weak and so contrary to the facts\nof the case, that it is virtually a surrender of the cause. One\ndeclares it to be \u201cone of the most bungling tricks he ever saw\u201d; but\nhe is entirely silent as to the nature of the trick so obvious to him.\nAnother states it to be a trick \u201cof great ingenuity,\u201d as well as of\n\u201clong standing\u201d; but, with equal prudence, he also is mute as to its\ncharacter. A third will explain the manner in which A. thought it was\ndone; and the very different manner in which B. held that it was\nperformed; while C. with equal shrewdness proposed a third mode. The\nreader is considerately left free to select which he pleases. Which       527\nof them or whether any one of them be actually true is apparently a\nquestion of minor importance. The grand purpose aimed at--and for\nthat, any one of them, even if a mistake, will, it is thought, be\nsufficient--is to find some passable or colorable pretext to relieve\nthe reader from the exceedingly disagreeable necessity of admitting a\npopish miracle.\n\nWhen two and a half centuries of keen and critical examinations,\ncovering so many thousand instances of the liquefaction, have resulted\nonly in such utter confusion and disagreement among those who profess\nto have discovered the fraud, we may legitimately conclude that in\nreality there has been no discovery of any trickery or fraud\nwhatsoever.\n\nNot to tax the reader\u2019s patience too much, we will endeavor to\nclassify the various modes in which we are assured by these discordant\nvoices that the fraud is perpetrated.\n\nThe first class attributes the liquefaction, or seeming liquefaction,\nto some kind of jugglery or _legerdemain_ practised by the officiating\nclergymen during the exposition of the relics.\n\nBut _when_, or _how_, it would puzzle Houdin himself, or the Fakir of\nAva, to say.\n\nIs it, as some have suggested, the adroit substitution of a second\nreliquary which contains a liquid, and which, at a suitable moment, is\npresented to the bystanders, instead of the original reliquary\ncontaining a hard substance?\n\nMost certainly not. The officiating priest stands in front of an altar\nbuilt of marble and bronze, without drawers or hiding-places. The\nreliquary in his hands is of considerable bulk--twelve inches high,\nfive inches broad, and two and a half or three inches thick--entirely\ntoo large to elude the keen eyesight of the hundreds close around, who\nintently watch it and scan every motion of the clergyman. Where could\nthe second reliquary lie hidden until needed? Could he lay down the\nfirst one and hide it away, and draw forth the second one and exhibit\nit to the people, without some such movement of his hands and arms as\nmust inevitably be seen? Can it be that never once in these four\nthousand times did any eye detect the act of substitution? Many of the\nchaplains and canons who officiate are aged men. Can their feeble or\nhalf-paralyzed arms do frequently, regularly, and always with perfect\nsuccess, what the most expert and practised prestigitator would shrink\nfrom attempting? The thing is utterly impossible.\n\nIf it were possible and actually done, it would not answer the\nrequirements of the case. In such a substitution, the liquefaction\nwould _always_ appear to be instantaneous--as instantaneous as the\nadroit substitution. But the real process of liquefaction is seldom so\ninstantaneous. It is often gradual, occupying an appreciable,\nsometimes a long time. It may often be followed by the eye in the\nvarious stages from solidity to perfect fluidity.\n\nMoreover, no substitution can account for the subsequent hardenings,\nor the alternations of hardenings and liquefactions, especially when\nthese occur, as they sometimes do, while the reliquary remains\nuntouched, mounted on its stand on the altar, in the sight of all, or\nduring a procession in the streets when it is borne aloft, equally\nuntouched, in its open frame, and is equally visible to all.\n\nThe idea of a substitution of reliquaries can only be entertained by\none who is utterly ignorant of the circumstances of the liquefaction.\nWe set it aside. If nothing else can be said, the miracle must stand.     528\n\nThe publicity of all the movements of the officiating clergyman who\nholds the reliquary, and the unceasing inspection of the reliquary by\nso many observers on every side, are equally peremptory in excluding\nthe supposition that the liquefaction may possibly be produced by\ninserting, during the exposition, some new ingredient into the\nampulla, which, uniting with the hard substance already there, will\ngive a third substance of a liquid character. How could this be done\nso many thousand times; and always under the eyes of a crowd of most\nattentive and watchful observers, without a single one of them ever,\nin a single instance, detecting this new substance while held in\nreserve for the proper moment, or noticing the act of inserting it, as\nthis precedes the liquefaction? And what shall we say of those\nnumerous cases in which the blood, having liquefied, becomes hard\nagain, and, after a time, liquefies again? Is there an adroit\nwithdrawal of this new ingredient from the ampulla in order that the\nliquid may harden again, and is there a fresh application of it, each\ntime, for every renewal of the liquefaction, during the day? And what\nif these changes occur while the reliquary is not in the hands of the\nclergyman at all, but has been placed and remains all the while on its\nstand on the altar, or is borne aloft in its open frame during a\nprocession? Does this wondrous ingredient of wondrous power wondrously\nmanage, of itself, and without the aid of human hands, to find its way\nto and into the ampulla, or to withdraw from it, as often as needed?\n\nThe drollest attempt at a solution, in this line, which we remember to\nhave met, was one put forward, with the usual air of positive\nassertion, in a bitter anti-Catholic magazine, published years ago in\nthe United States, which undertook to impugn this miracle. HOT WATER,\nthe writer maintained, was stealthily introduced into the hollow metal\nstem or handle below the reliquary; the heat from which might pass, by\nconduction, through the intervening substances, and at last reach the\nsubstance itself within the ampulla and cause it to melt.\n\nThe stem aforesaid is just three inches and one-eighth in length, and\nseven-eighths of an inch in external diameter. Allowing the metal of\nwhich it is formed to be one-sixteenth of an inch in thickness--less\nit can scarcely be--and that the hollow extends the entire length--on\nwhich point we avow our ignorance--the cavity of the stem would hold\nabout one-fifth of a gill--rather too small a quantity for the purpose\nin view.\n\nMoreover, the opening or mouth of the hollow stem is at its lower\nextremity. Now, inasmuch as even hot water is subject to the laws of\ngravity and will fall downwards, we submit that for the hot water to\nremain in the stem or cylinder with its lower extremity quite open,\nfor even ten minutes, would be as truly a miracle as the liquefaction\nitself is claimed to be. Even allowing some invisible plug to be used\nto close that opening and to prevent the water from falling down,\nwould not the first and most powerful effect of the heat of the water\nbe manifested in the thin metallic sides of the stem itself, scorching\nand blistering the hands of the priest that held it?\n\nAnd again, when the liquefaction is delayed--which, on this\nsupposition, would occur because the heat in the small quantity of\nwater first introduced is not sufficient for the purpose, and has been\nabsorbed by the metal reliquary before producing the desired              529\nliquefaction--it would obviously become necessary to empty the stem\nand to take in a fresh supply of hot water. The same thing would, at\nleast on a cold day, have to be repeated over and over again until the\nliquefaction finally does occur; and would have to be repeated still\nover again as often as the substance in the vial grows hard during the\nday, and a fresh liquefaction is required. Where is the vase into\nwhich they pour out the water that has lost its heat? Did any one ever\nsee the kettle brought in with the fresh supply of water, steaming\nhot, as needed?\n\nPerhaps the author of this explanation was a wag, making game of the\ngullible readers of the anti-Catholic magazine. If he was in earnest,\nwe regret that he did not turn his brilliant talents to the task of\ndiscovering perpetual motion.\n\nLest the reader may think that we are not doing justice to the\nopponents of the liquefaction, we will quote the words of one who is\nor should be held as a high authority in their ranks. Bishop Douglas\n(of Salisbury, England) published A CRITERION _for distinguishing\nthe Miracles of the New Testament from the Tricks of Pagan and Papal\nPriests_. Speaking of the liquefaction, he says:\n\n     \u201cThe particular natural cause is not indeed absolutely agreed\n     upon. Some have imagined that the heat of the hands of the\n     priests who have been tampering with the vial of blood during the\n     celebration of Mass will be sufficient to make it melt. Others,\n     again, have been inclined to believe that the liquefaction is\n     affected by the heat of vast numbers of wax tapers of enormous\n     size with which the altar is decked out, and many of which are\n     placed so conveniently that the priest can, without any\n     appearance of design, hold the glass so near to them as to make\n     it hot, and consequently dispose the enclosed substance to melt.\n     I should be inclined to subscribe to this opinion, had I not met\n     with a more probable solution.\n\n     \u201cI am informed (for I have never tried the experiment myself)\n     that a composition of _crocus martis_ and _cochineal_ will\n     perfectly resemble congealed blood, and, by dropping the smallest\n     quantity of _aqua fortis_ amongst this composition, its dry\n     particles will be put into a ferment, till at last an ebullition\n     is excited and the substance becomes liquid.\n\n     \u201cThat a glass may be so contrived as to keep the _aqua fortis_\n     from the dry substance till the critical moment when the\n     liquefaction is to be effected may be easily conceived. And\n     indeed the vial containing the pretended blood is so constituted.\n     It is something like an hourglass, and the dry substance is\n     lodged in the upper division. Now, in the lower division of the\n     glass, a few drops of _aqua fortis_ may be lodged without\n     furnishing any suspicion, as the color will prevent its being\n     distinguished. All the attendant circumstances of this bungling\n     trick are perfectly well accounted for by admitting this\n     solution. Whenever the priest would have the miracle take effect,\n     he need only invert the glass, and then the _aqua fortis_, being\n     uppermost, will drop down on the dry substance and excite an\n     ebullition, which resembles the melting. And upon restoring the\n     glass to its former position, the spectators will see the\n     substance, the particles of which have been separated by the\n     _aqua fortis_, drop down to the bottom of the glass, in the same\n     manner that the sands run through an hour-glass.\n\n     \u201cNow, upon the supposition that I have assigned the real cause,\n     the priests can prevent the success of this miracle whenever they\n     please; and accordingly we know that they do actually do so, when\n     they have any prospect of advancing their own interest, by\n     infusing a notion into the minds of the Neapolitans that heaven\n     is angry with their nation.\u201d\n\nBishop Douglas with his reliquary \u201csomething like an hour-glass\u201d\ndeserves to stand next to him who filled the stem with boiling water.\nThey both seem to value the dreamy supposition which they evolve out\nof their own inner consciousness as fully equal to undoubted and actual\nfacts demonstrated by experience or fully established by testimony.       530\n\nWe leave aside the chemistry involved in his supposition, since he\ncandidly avowed that he never tried the experiment. It is a pity he\ndid not make a similar candid avowal when speaking of the shape of the\nvial containing the blood. He should, for the sake of good faith, have\nwarned his readers that he had never seen the vial itself, nor even an\nengraving of it; and should have let them understand that his whole\nexplanation was based on his assumed ability to describe accurately\nand minutely the shape of a vial which, he must have been aware, and\nshould have informed them, he was entirely ignorant of.\n\nAny one who has seen the reliquary and the ampulla within it, or has\neven looked at the figure of it which we have given, or at engravings\nof it which are easily obtained in Naples and elsewhere, will see at a\nglance that the shape of the ampulla is just the reverse of an\nhourglass. In fact, in form it much more closely approaches a sphere.\nNot a single point set forth in the explanation is correct. There is\nno upper division in which the dry substance, compounded of _crocus\nmartis_ and _cochineal_, and perfectly resembling congealed blood,\nis or can be lodged; there is no lower division, unoccupied save by\nthe few drops of _aqua fortis_, the color of which prevents its being\ndiscovered, even by keen, curious, prying eyes. There is in the\nliquefaction no sandlike fall, from an upper into a lower division, of\na stream of particles of the dry substance, now separated or liquefied\nby the _aqua fortis_. The bishop has not only failed to hit the bull\u2019s\neye, he has entirely missed the target, every shot.\n\nAnd yet, with what delicious complacency he considers, and expects\nhis readers to admit, that he, above all others, has correctly exposed\nthe bungling trick, and has unmasked the fraudulent dealings of the\npriests, who can effect or prevent the miracle as they please! It is a\ngenuine sample of the way in which a certain class of writers think\nthey demolish anything Catholic. And how many, after reading this\npassage of the _Criterion_, may have closed the book in perfect\nconfidence that, after such an exposure, so clear and detailed, by so\nlearned and so respectable an authority, it would be waste of time to\nread another word on the liquefaction of the blood of St. Januarius!\n\nNeed we go back to the two previous explanations he mentions, but\nwhich he will not adopt, until he is forced by the failure of his pet\nexplanation? So many others have urged them that we may not pass them\nentirely unnoticed.\n\nThe ordinary form of the first one is this: The officiating priest,\nwho holds in his hands the vial containing the blood, rubs it with his\nhandkerchief, and clasps it in his palms. The animal heat of his\nhands, and such heat as the friction may produce, suffices to bring\nabout the liquefaction.\n\nLet the reader cast an eye on the very correct figure of the reliquary\nwhich we give. The priest holds it by the stem below; sometimes, in\nturning it, he may put one hand on the crown above. He does not, for\nhe cannot, touch the interior vials containing the blood. They are\ninside the case, held in position by the soldering above and below,\nand are enclosed and protected by the thick metal rim, and the plates\nof glass in front and rear. The heat of his hands, as he holds it, and\nthe utmost heat that can be produced by the friction--as occasionally,\nevery five or ten minutes, he may, if he thinks it necessary, rub         531\nthe plates of glass with his white handkerchief, in order to see\nbetter through them into the interior--cannot possibly affect the\ncontents of the ampulla in any appreciable degree. As for causing them\nto melt or liquefy, one might as well expect the same animal heat of\none\u2019s hand to light a wax candle by simply grasping and holding the\ncandlestick in which it stands, or that lightly rubbing the\ncandlestick with a handkerchief, every five or ten minutes, to keep it\nbright and dry, would produce the same physical effect on the candle\nplaced in it as ordinary mortals obtain nowadays by igniting a lucifer\nmatch and applying it to the wick.\n\nNo one who has ever witnessed the liquefaction can listen to this\nattempt at explanation without a smile of pity or of contempt. Even in\nthose cases in which the liquefactions take place while the reliquary\nis in the hands of the priest, it is equally insufficient and absurd.\nIt has no application whatever to the other many cases in which the\nliquefaction occurs while the reliquary stands on the altar or is\nborne in procession. Like the other solutions we have examined, it\nmakes no attempt to account for the reiterated hardenings and\nliquefactions which may occur during the day, nor for the variations\nof volume and for the other phases which are presented. Yet we must\nbear in mind that all these are striking and characteristic points,\nwhich are to be strictly accounted for, equally with the simple fact\nof a solid substance becoming fluid.\n\nAs for the second mode of solution mentioned by Bishop Douglas, that\nwhich attributes the liquefaction to the general heat around the altar\ndue to the \u201cvast number of wax tapers of enormous size\u201d burning on the\naltar, and also, not to omit what others have said, to the crowd\nclosely packed around the officiating clergyman--that attempted\nsolution has already been disposed of. Thermometrical investigations\nby scientific professors, and the many times that the liquefaction\ntakes place at the altar when there is little or no crowd, and also\naway from the altar and its \u201cwax tapers of enormous size\u201d during a\nprocession in the streets, and while the reliquary is freely exposed\nto the open air of December--all alike combine to exclude this\nsolution. As for the convenient position in which the bishop places\nsome of those wax tapers, and the practice of the priests to make use\nof this position and, \u201cwithout any appearance of design,\u201d to \u201chold the\nglass so near to them as to make it hot, and consequently dispose the\nenclosed substance to melt,\u201d we may ask, if he did not believe this to\nbe true, why has he repeated the statement, and expressed his\ninclination \u201cto subscribe to this opinion\u201d even as a _pis aller_? If\nhe did believe that the priest really so manipulated the vial in order\nto produce the liquefaction, ought not that to be sufficient? Why\npostpone the truth in favor of a pet theory about _crocus martis_,\n_cochineal_, _aqua fortis_, and the _hour-glass_? Evidently, his mind\nwas rather cloudy on the subject. Seriously, the priest could not hold\nthe reliquary so near to a lighted wax taper of enormous size, long\nenough to make it hot, without attracting the attention of hundreds\neach time he did it. Not to overlook the smallest point, we may remark\nthat, on the six occasions when we were present at the liquefaction,\non all of which it invariably occurred at the main altar of the\n_Tesoro_ chapel, the lighted tapers on the altar were few. If our\nmemory serves us right, they were just _six_, three on each side of       532\nthe crucifix over the centre of the altar, and all of them placed on\ntall and elevated altar candlesticks. The nearest blaze must have\nbeen, at least, seven feet away from and above the reliquary, as the\nchaplain held it in front of the altar. To achieve the feat which\nBishop Douglas mentions, it would have been necessary to move back a\nportion of the crowd, near the altar, in order to get room, and then\nto bring in and make use of a good-sized step-ladder! The only burning\nlight ever held in proximity to the reliquary is the single small\ntaper, sometimes held by an assistant chaplain, and used on cloudy or\nhazy days, when the general light in the _Tesoro_ chapel is not\nsufficiently strong to show through the glass plates of the reliquary\nand the sides of the ampulla, as distinctly as desired, the state of\nthe blood in the interior of the ampulla. In such cases, this taper is\nnow and then brought for half a minute or a minute within eight or ten\ninches of the reliquary, and is held a little downward, and behind it,\nin such position that its light may shine obliquely onward through the\nglasses, on the surface of the blood, and show, as we saw it show, the\nstate of the interior with perfect distinctness. It is not applied to\nthe reliquary in any way that can appreciably heat it. When the\natmosphere is perfectly clear, the general light of the chapel is\namply sufficient, and this taper is not needed nor brought forward.\n\nWhat we have said of the modes thus examined is true of all attempted\nexplanations based on some supposed feat of jugglery or legerdemain\nduring the exposition. To one who has witnessed the liquefaction at\nNaples, and knows what is really done, they are simply ridiculous. We\nrepeat: if nothing else can be urged, the miracle must stand.\n\nThis has been felt, and in consequence we have another class of\nproposed solutions, of a seemingly higher character. Chemistry is\nbrought into service. Some compound is skilfully prepared, we are\ntold, and inserted by the priests into the ampulla beforehand. It is\nof such a character that it appears more or less hard and solid at the\nbeginning of the exposition, and, during the exposition, is made to\nmelt or to appear to melt. Chemists, we are assured, can easily\nprepare such substances, and can thus reproduce the liquefactions at\nwill. These experiments, it is claimed, settle the question. What the\nchemists do and acknowledge, the priests do, and pass off as a\nmiracle.\n\nLet us analyze these experiments, and see whether in reality they\nrepeat and renew the liquefaction with its characteristic and\nessential phenomena, or in what respects and how far they fail to do\nso.\n\nThe first of these of which we have any account dates from Berlin, in\n1734. On the 26th of January in that year--so we are told in a letter\ndated a few days after, and published in Paris--Gaspar Neumann,\ncouncillor of his majesty\u2019s court, doctor in medicine, and professor\nof chemistry, entertained a party consisting of fourteen learned\nfriends, assembled to dine at his festive board, with an imitation of\nthe liquefaction of the blood of St. Januarius. The letter was written\nby one of the party to his friends at home. We carefully reproduce the\nfacts which the letter states, omitting the badinage and sneering\nremarks with which it accompanies them--remarks quite characteristic\nof the school of Voltaire whenever religion or anything connected with\nit was in question. In default of the original French, we quote from      533\na translation published in England.\n\nThe professor, we are told, placed before his friends \u201ca human skull.\u201d\nHe also produced from his laboratory \u201cthree vials of crystal or very\nclear and transparent glass, in each of which was contained a matter\nin a very small bulk, dry, black, and so hard as to produce a noise on\nthe sides of the vial when shaken.\u201d The first vial being brought near\nto the head, the matter in it \u201cbecame of a deep-red color, liquefied,\nbubbled, increased its bulk, and filled the vial.\u201d The second vial was\nalso brought near to the head, and the portion of matter in it\n\u201cbubbled but little.\u201d But when the third vial was similarly brought\nnear the head, the whole of its contents \u201cremained dry, hard, and\nblack.\u201d\n\nThe writer evidently wished to convey the impression--perhaps he\nhimself believed--that these vials, which the professor had carefully\nprepared in his laboratory and showed to his friends after dinner,\ncorrectly exhibited the liquefaction in all its chief phases. If the\nliquid in the first vial had also several times changed its color; if\nit had filled the vial, not by adding bubbles to bubbles, but by an\nactual increase of the volume of the liquid within, independently of\nthat frothing or bubbling; if it had then similarly decreased in bulk;\nif the liquid had solidified without any diminution of temperature,\nand become fluid again without increase of it, he would have presented\na far stronger case than he has done.\n\nBut those points are absent. Perhaps the writer did not know that they\nwere necessary. The letter itself is written in a jocular and mocking\ntone, and evidently in a spirit that relished sharp epigrammatic\npoints, calculated to excite a laugh, far more than the humdrum\nreality of sober truth.\n\nWe find another account of this same experiment in a French work\nbefore us: _La Liquefaction du Sang de S. Janvier_, by Postel. This\naccount is more calm and sober in style, and is based upon the\n_Biblioth\u00e8que Germanique_, a work to which we have not access. It\nvaries considerably from the sportive account given in the letter.\nAccording to Postel, the contents of the first vial _liquefied entirely_;\nthe contents of the second vial _liquefied only partially_; in the\nthird vial there was _no change whatever_. The statement is distinctly\nmade that neither in the first vial nor in the second was there any\nsign of ebullition. The variation is important.\n\nAs between the two accounts, we could scarcely hesitate a moment which\nto hold most worthy of credit on any point on which they differed. In\nneither account do we find any indication of the nature of the\nchemical compounds which Dr. Neumann had prepared in his laboratory\nand placed in the vials. But as the experiment was made known and\nrepeated, especially in France, we may take it for granted that the\nmaterial used in those repetitions is the same that he devised.\n\nThis material is a mixture of suet, or other similar fatty matter, and\nether, the compound being brought to any desired tint--in this case, a\ndeep or dark red--by a further admixture of any suitable pigment. The\nmixture or compound so prepared is solid at ordinary temperatures; but\nat about 92\u00b0 F. it will melt. If a quantity of such a mixture be\ninserted in a small glass vial, and the vial be clasped in the palm of\none\u2019s hand, it will soon receive from the hand sufficient heat to\nbring about a total or a partial liquefaction, according to the greater   534\nor smaller proportion of the ether used in originally compounding it.\n\nNeither would it be beyond the art of chemistry, in preparing this\nmixture, to introduce other ingredients, the particles of which would\nbe brought into contact with each other when the liquefaction has been\neffected and the chemical combinations of which would then give rise\nto a greater or less amount of frothing or bubbles.\n\nAll this, however, is very far from being a reproduction of the\nliquefaction which is seen at Naples. The differences, or rather the\nfailures to imitate and reproduce it, are essential and evident. We\npoint out the chief ones:\n\nI. This liquefaction of the laboratory _always and entirely_ depends\non the application of the proper degree of heat. So long as its\ntemperature is below the melting point, the substance in the vial\nremains hard and unliquefied. When the temperature, from whatsoever\ncause, is raised above that degree, liquefaction ensues. If the\ntemperature again sinks below it, the substance, if not meanwhile\ndecomposed, returns to its previous solid condition. The operators\nthemselves inform us frankly how the required degree of heat is\nusually communicated to it; by holding the vial, if small enough, in\nthe palm of one hand, or tightly pressing it, if somewhat larger,\nbetween the palms of both hands. If the general heat of the room be\nraised high enough to reach the melting point of the substance in the\nvial, this circumstance alone would suffice to bring the compound to a\nfluid condition.\n\nOn the other hand, being from Naples and not from Brobdignag, the\nchaplain or canon has a hand only of the ordinary size, and is\naltogether unable to clasp in the palm of one hand, or even with both\npalms, an object so large as the reliquary. He is forced to hold it by\nthe stem; in which position, the heat of his hand can have no\nappreciable effect on the contents of the vial within the reliquary.\n\nMoreover, the liquefaction often takes place when the reliquary is not\nheld in his hands at all.\n\nII. We repeat it again. The real liquefaction does not depend on heat\nIt takes place at various temperatures. There is no fixed melting\npoint for the substance in the ampulla. It will often solidify at a\nhigher temperature than that at which it stood liquid; and will\nliquefy at a temperature notably below that at which it became or\nstood solid. This is an essential difference, going to the root of the\nquestion.\n\nIII. The attempted imitation may, at the utmost, present a bubbling or\nfrothing, produced in the way we have indicated. This may even go to\nsuch an extent as to fill the vial with froth or bubbles. But it can\nnever cause the bulk or body of the liquid itself, free from those\nbubbles, and independently of them, to swell and increase in actual\nvisible amount so as to completely fill the vial. The amount of the\nliquid obtained, when at rest and in its tranquil state, and at the\nsame temperature, will always be the same. Precisely the reverse\nhappens in the liquefaction of the blood of St. Januarius. The liquid\nblood may bubble and froth without increasing its bulk, or it may\nincrease its volume with or without this frothing, or it may decrease\nits volume, again, with or without the frothing. And these changes of\nthe bulk of the actual liquid in the ampulla do not depend on the\ntemperature. Neither are they points on which a mistake is possible;\nfor they reach, as we have stated, to the extent of twenty per cent.      535\n\nOn those two cardinal points, the imitation entirely fails. We need\nscarcely note the facts that the preparation, when solid, does not\nresemble coagulated or hardened blood, and, when liquid, could never\nbe mistaken for liquid blood, whether arterial or venous, nor does it\npresent the changes of color so often seen in the real liquefaction.\n\nIV. Ether is an essential ingredient of this artificial compound.\nSuet, or whatever other fatty substance is used instead, will dissolve\nin ether; while it will not dissolve in water or in alcohol. Now,\nether is comparatively a modern discovery. Whether Paracelsus hit upon\nthe discovery of it or not is a point mooted among those who have\nstudied his life and achievements in chemistry. But, if he did, the\nknowledge of it was lost with him, and it remained unknown to the\nworld until K\u00fcnkel discovered or rediscovered it in 1681--early enough\nfor Neumann, but entirely too late to be of any service in getting up\na compound for the liquefaction at Naples, which, for the matter of\nthat, runs back far beyond the days of Paracelsus himself.\n\nThis explanation, therefore, that the liquefaction of the blood of St.\nJanuarius is in reality the liquefaction of a compound of ether and\nsuet or other fatty substance, must be set aside, because entirely\ninsufficient to meet the case, and because it involves a glaring\nanachronism.\n\nIt fails, too, in another point. The ether will, in course of time,\ngradually escape though the pores of the glass. When it is gone, the\nliquefactions are at an end. The fatty matters, too, will decompose in\ntime. In fact, the whole preparation would have to be frequently\nrenewed. On the other hand, as we shall see further on, there is ample\nevidence that the ampulla remains unopened, and that the substance\nwithin it remains untouched and identically the same, from year to\nyear, and from century to century.\n\nThese reasons were too patent to allow Dr. Neumann\u2019s attempted\nimitation to hold its own in the estimation of those who seriously\nexamined the question. It was thrown aside for others. We find an\naccount of one of them, written by La Condamine, and presented to no\nless a body than the Academy of Sciences in Paris, in 1757. His\narticle may be found among the various articles published in the\n_Memoirs_ for 1763.\n\nLa Condamine explains, with no little glee, and some detail, an\nexperiment which he had lately witnessed in company with others, and\nwhich he was allowed afterward to repeat and study out in private and\nat his leisure, and with the assistance and explanations of the\ninventor himself. He does not give the inventor\u2019s name, but we know,\nfrom other sources, that it was San Severo.\n\nThere was a circular case of bronze or silver gilt. In front and rear,\nthere were circular plates of glass. The whole stood on a richly\nornamented foot, and was surmounted by a winged mercury. Within the\ncase, between the plates of glass, was seen a vial. So far, the\nworkman had prepared a vague imitation of the actual reliquary.\n\n     \u201cThe vial appeared half full of a stiff grayish paste, which,\n     judging by its surface, seemed to be powdery or granulated. By\n     inclining the case, alternately, from side to side, and shaking\n     it for half a minute, more or less, the paste became liquid and\n     flowing, sometimes only partially so; at other times, it grew\n     hard again, and by shaking it anew it became liquid again.... I\n     remarked beneath the vial two small cones, I do not know of what\n     material, meeting by their points. I was told (by the inventor)      536\n     that there was a little passage through these points. He said,\n     also, that the cones were hollow, and that, as the lower one was\n     movable, it sometimes happened that its orifice exactly met the\n     orifice of the upper cone, and sometimes did not; this was\n     altogether a matter of chance.... As for the powder which I saw\n     in the vial, I was told that it was an amalgam of mercury, lead,\n     tin, and bismuth; that the bismuth, which amalgamated only\n     imperfectly, hindered the mixture from becoming a pasty lump, and\n     gave it rather the character of a powder too coarse to pass\n     through the little opening which communicated with the cones.\n     Finally, there was hidden, within the case, a circular tube\n     communicating with the lower movable cone, and containing liquid\n     mercury. In shaking the whole irregularly, whenever the openings\n     of the two cones came together, more or less of this mercury made\n     its way into the vial and liquefied the amalgam. It happened\n     sometimes, in these various movements, that the mercury which had\n     entered got out again, and then the amalgam returned to its\n     previous condition and was fluid no longer.\u201d\n\nThis is the account which La Condamine has given, after a long and\ncareful private examination, aided by the explanations of the\ninventor, and which, he tells us, he wrote down the same day. The\ninventor promised to give him in writing a fuller account, with minute\ndrawings of all the parts; but up to the date of publication (five\nyears later) he had, for some unknown reason, failed to keep the\npromise.\n\nLa Condamine acknowledges that he had never seen the real reliquary,\nand had never witnessed the true liquefaction at Naples. He thought\nthis substitute just as good.\n\nHad he witnessed the reality, and had he examined it with one-half the\ncare he bestowed on the substitute, he never would have written his\nreport.\n\nI. He would have instantly seen the difference between a true\nliquefaction--where a substance previously hard is unmistakably seen\nto become gradually soft and then perfectly liquid, as is often the\ncase at Naples--and this seeming liquefaction of the experiment, which\nconsists only in making the loosened grains or particles of the\namalgam swim in and on the fluid mercury which has been introduced,\nthey themselves remaining hard and not at all liquefied, but ready to\nbe heaped together again in a hard mass of grains or powder, whenever\nthe liquid mercury is withdrawn. The difference between the two\nprocesses is as clear as light, and as great as the difference between\nthe melting of icebergs and a movement of a fleet of ships on the\nocean. A child could not mistake it. Fortunately, the icebergs melt\nand disappear as they are changed into water: with equal good fortune,\nthe ships do not melt, but float on, until they reach their port.\n\nII. He would see that this grayish amalgam, in its dry, powdery state,\nis totally unlike the hard, dark mass of blood in the ampulla, and, in\nits pretended liquid state, it is equally unlike the liquid blood. In\nfact, as the mercury enters below and permeates the mass, its silvery\ngleam may somewhat enliven the dull-grayish hue of the amalgam, but it\ncan present nothing akin to the _rubicund_, the _bright vermilion_, or\nthe _dark hue_ of the liquid blood. Nor is there anything like the\nfilm which the liquid blood sometimes leaves on the sides of the\nglass, nor like the frothing, or the ebullition. On all these points,\nthe experiment failed.\n\nIII. After sufficient mercury has been introduced to occupy the\ninterstices in the granular mass, any additional supply will lift the\nparticles, separate them, and allow that motion which the inventor\npassed off for fluidity; and this seeming fluidity becomes greater as     537\nthe quantity of fluid mercury so introduced for the grains to float in\nis increased in amount. But the mercury occupies space, and so\nincrease of bulk and increased fluidity must go together. A hardening\nrequires, on the contrary, a withdrawal of the mercury, and is\nconsequently always connected with a decrease of bulk. This is\ndirectly contrary to one of the most striking features of the real\nliquefaction, on which we have already commented at length.\n\nIV. It fails to account for the hardenings and the liquefactions which\noccur when the reliquary is not in the hands of a chaplain or canon to\nincline it never so coaxingly, but stands and has been standing for\nhours, untouched and immovable, on its pedestal on the altar. In this\npoint the imitation again signally fails.\n\nV. What we said of ether, we may almost repeat here concerning the\nbismuth. This is the important ingredient of the amalgam, the\nintractableness of which keeps the material in a state of powder or\ngrains. When that is overcome, the whole mass coheres and becomes a\nhard lump; and the liquefactions, such as they were, are over. Now,\nbismuth was discoved by Agricola in 1529, centuries after the date\nwhen the liquefactions are known to have regularly occurred.\n\nVI. The prying eyes of thousands have never discovered in the\nreliquary any trace of a circular tube containing mercury, nor of the\nall-important little hollow cones, meeting by their points. More than\nonce, as we shall see, the reliquary has been in the hands of\ngoldsmiths and skilled workmen. They found nothing of this nor of any\nother contrivance.\n\nThese two of Neumann and San Severo are the chief attempts made to\nimitate the liquefaction of the blood of St. Januarius, and they have\nsignally failed. We need not examine, one by one, the various\nsubstances which have been proposed as the chemical substance craftily\nused no this occasion; from the \u201cdeep-red sublimate of gold,\u201d which,\none tells us, \u201cbeing easily fusible by the heat of one\u2019s hand, is\nexhibited by the Neapolitan priests for St. Januarius\u2019s blood,\u201d down\nto the theory that \u201cthe dark-red mass which melts in the ampulla is\nonly a preparation of ICE; for everybody knows that in Naples they\nare more skilful in preparing ices than even in Archangel.\u201d By the\nway, we suspect that Aulic Councillor Rehfues, a German Protestant\ntraveller, to whom we owe this last explanation, was only making fun\nof his brother Aulic Councillor Neumann, and of the other theorists,\nwho were proposing, each one, his own guess as to the substance.\n\nAnyway, the fact that the real liquefaction is not caused by the\napplication of heat rules out all these suppositions. The fuller and\nmore accurate our knowledge of chemistry, the more clearly do we\nrealize the truth that all experimental liquefactions are governed by\nthe laws of nature. The more conversant we are with the _facts_ of the\nreal liquefaction, the more clearly do we see that here those laws are\nset aside. We cannot shut our eyes to the opposition.\n\nSir Humphry Davy, who witnessed the liquefaction when he visited\nNaples, and who carefully examined it, made no secret afterwards among\nhis friends of the deep impression it produced on his mind, and of his\ndecided judgment that chemistry, so far as he knew it, could not\naccount for the liquefaction. This may have been one of the causes of\nthat inclination toward the Catholic Church which, from the period of     538\nthat visit, was manifested by that eminent scholar, and which led him\nto think seriously, at least, of entering her fold, even if he did\nnot--as some thought he did--carry his purpose into effect before\ndeath.\n\nAnd yet we are asked to believe that, \u201caway back in the dark ages,\u201d\nthose \u201cignorant monks and priests in Naples\u201d possessed a knowledge of\nchemistry which enabled them to do this! And, more wonderful still,\nthat they have secretly handed down that knowledge and power, within\ntheir own body, and that they continue to this day to effect the\nliquefaction in some strange way entirely unknown to the scientific\nworld!\n\nWe pass on to other views of the question.\n\nThis charge of fraud implies that the ampulla is tampered with from\ntime to time; and that those who have charge of it--clergy and laity\nalike--and especially those who hold it at the time of the\nliquefaction, are all playing a trick.\n\nIs the ampulla or vial really tampered with? Is it regularly opened\nfor the insertion of some duly prepared material?\n\nThe ampulla stands within a case or reliquary, as our figure shows it.\nThe case or reliquary, of silver and of glass, is kept in an\n_Armoire_, or closet, wrought in the solid stone wall of the _Tesoro_\nchapel, as strong and secure as a bank-vault. This _Armoire_ is closed\nby metal doors, each secured by two strong locks, with different keys,\none set of which is always in the possession of the municipal\nauthorities of the city, the other in that of the archbishop and\nclergy. They have been so kept for just two hundred and twenty-four\nyears; for we need not take account just now of the previous\ncenturies, when the relics were in the exclusive custody of the\narchbishop and clergy, and were kept in the old _Tesoro_, or strong\nroom, still to be seen in the second story of the cathedral tower.\nDuring all these two hundred and twenty-four years, the locks have not\nbeen tampered with. The clergy have not charged any one with doing it.\nThe municipal authorities have never suspected it.\n\nMoreover, the reliquary, when brought out, remains exposed to public\nscrutiny for ten or twelve hours at a time, on eighteen days of each\nyear; and there is no man, woman, or child in Naples, and no stranger\nin the city, who may not, if so minded, scrutinize it a score of times\na day, at less than twelve inches\u2019 distance. Any opening or closing of\nthe case, any taking out or putting in of the vial, would leave some\ntrace of the fact, either in the silver rim, or in the position of the\nvials within, or at least in the soldering at bottom and at top, which\nwould have to be disturbed, if not broken, each time, and then\nrestored. Among the special industries of Naples are working in\njewelry and coral, retouching and repairing paintings, and--we are\nsorry to say it--fabricating _Old Masters_. The Neapolitans have eyes\nfor signs and traces like these in question as quick, sharp, and\nunerring as an Indian on a trail. No change or trace of any tampering\nhas ever been seen by them. The vials are in identically the same\ninclined position from year to year--the same as represented in\nengravings a century or two centuries old. The soldering, in which the\nbottoms and tops are immersed, is hard, old, black, through age, and\nevidently untouched. The outer case shows no sign of any opening by\nwhich a side can be unscrewed or lifted out, so as to allow the vials\nthemselves to be touched. Probably, when originally made, five hundred    539\nand fifty or seven hundred years ago, this could have been done. But\nthe screw or the joint has long since rusted, and the whole thing is\nnow one mass of dingy and rusted silver, holding two glass plates.\n\nIn the year 1649, Cardinal Ascanio Filomarini was Archbishop of\nNaples, a man of great culture and taste and of ample private fortune,\nand much given to the adornment of the churches of his diocese.\n\nThe new _Tesoro_ had just been completed, and was shining in all the\nbrilliant splendor of newness. The cardinal thought that the reliquary\nto contain the vials of the blood, for which the _Tesoro_ had been\nbuilt, ought to correspond, as the bust did, with the grandeur of the\nchapel itself. This the dingy old silver reliquary, in which they had\nbeen kept for so many centuries, did not do. He determined to replace\nit by another of gold, of excellent workmanship, and adorned with rich\njewels. He had one made \u201cregardless of expense,\u201d and, when all was\nready, on September 1, 1649, he came into the _Tesoro_ with some of\nhis clergy and the delegates from the city, and with public notaries,\nthat proper legal record might be made of everything, and with chosen\ngoldsmiths. Are not the names of them all duly recorded? The\n_Armoire_ was opened, the reliquary was taken to the adjoining\nsacristy; and there, for several hours, in presence of his eminence\nand his clergy, and the honorable delegates, \u201cand of us, the\nundersigned notaries,\u201d the goldsmiths tried and essayed to open the\nreliquary. They failed and gave it up. They could break the reliquary,\nif so directed; but they could not open it. Accordingly, the reliquary\nwas locked up again as it had been taken out. The cardinal was a\npersevering man. He got other goldsmiths, and came a second time, on\nthe 8th of September, with clergy, delegates, and notaries. For two\nhours again these goldsmiths tried to open the reliquary, and failed,\nas the first had done. They could break it, if required; but how could\nthey open a case where all their trying could find neither joint nor\nscrew? Again the reliquary was replaced in the _Armoire_. The\ncardinal\u2019s heart was set on using his new grand reliquary on the\nfestival near at hand, the 19th of September. He thought over the\nmatter, again summoned the delegates and the notaries, and on the 16th\ncame, a third time, with his clergy and yet other goldsmiths. A third\nprolonged trial was made with the same ill-success. The reliquary\nmight be broken, if they wished; it could not be opened. To break it\nwas not to be thought of; that might endanger the precious vials\nwithin. So, the old silver reliquary was put up again, that evening,\nand his eminence was forced to use it on the festival of the 19th for\nthe exposition that year. It has been used ever since. And now, two\nhundred and twenty-two years later, it was again brought out on the\n19th of September in this present year, 1871. The cardinal, it is to\nbe presumed, devoted his rich reliquary to some other pious purpose.\n\nBut if his eminence had lived to the age of the olden patriarchs, and\nhad retained it in his possession, he might have at last found a more\nfavorable opportunity for again trying to change that reliquary. On\nthe afternoon of Tuesday, May 5, 1762, one of the glass plates, by\ndint, of course, of being rubbed for so many hundred years by white\nhandkerchiefs, became somewhat loose in its groove or socket, and\nthreatened to fall inward, endangering the precious vials. Accordingly,\nearly next morning, an hour and a half before the time for the regular    540\nexposition (for it was in the May octave), the archbishop of that day,\nCardinal Sersale, came with clergy, city delegates, notaries-public,\nand goldsmiths. The reliquary was taken out of the _Armoire_, and the\nglass was fixed again firmly in its place, and the reliquary was\nreturned to its _Armoire_, before the hour for the public exposition.\nIt does not appear, from the very succinct account we have of the\noccurrence, whether or not, during the work, the vials or ampull\u00e6 were\ntaken out of the reliquary, within which they are held in their places\nby the old soldering. Nothing is said of this having been done, nor of\nthe soldering being touched and then repaired when they were put back\nin their places. On the whole, considering the nature of the repair to\nbe done, and that it was done in a few moments at the door of the\n_Armoire_, back of the altar, we are inclined to think that they did\nnot find it necessary to move them, and that they were accordingly\nleft untouched in their places.\n\nThese are the only occasions on which the diaries say anything bearing\non the feasibility of opening this reliquary, or of its being\nrepaired. In the archives of the cathedral, another incident is\nmentioned, of an ancient date. In the year 1507, nearly a century and\na half before the building of the new _Tesoro_, the relics were kept\nin the old _Tesoro_ or strong room of the cathedral, a strong vaulted\nchamber of stone, in the second story of the tower, which rises at the\nnortheast corner of the church. That _Tesoro_ was then approached by\na winding stairway. A very aged canon was bringing down the reliquary\nfrom the _Tesoro_ to the church for an exposition. At the very first\nstep, he tripped and fell; and the reliquary rolled down, from step to\nstep, to the very bottom. All present feared it was broken, and gave\nthanks when it was taken up and found to be perfectly uninjured. Yet\nthe alarm had been great; and Maria Toleta, \u201cthe pious wife of the\nviceroy,\u201d who was present at the time and shared in the alarm, had the\nwinding stairway taken down at her own expense, and replaced by\nanother one, straight, broad, and easy, which is in use to this day.\n\nWe may take these facts as fair evidence that the reliquary is strong,\nand not very easily opened, and that they who know all about it do not\nbelieve that it is or can be regularly opened.\n\nThe same conclusion is also forced on us by considerations of an\nentirely different character. We have already drawn attention to the\nfact that, whatever the level at which the blood stands when\nthe reliquary is locked up at night, at the close of one\nexposition--whether _at its ordinary level_, or _somewhat increased_,\nor _very much increased_, or _full_--it is invariably found at the\nsame level when taken out the next time for the ensuing exposition,\nwhether that time be next morning or after the lapse of months. The\nlevel is one of the points specially noticed and recorded. A variation\nwould necessarily be detected. Yet, if on each one or on very many of\nthe four thousand occasions we have spoken of, the old contents had\nbeen privately taken out between the expositions, and a fresh supply\nput in, would there not have been, not unfrequently, some appreciable\ninequality of level?\n\nAgain, sometimes the blood was _hard_ when put up. How could a hard\nsubstance be extracted from a narrow-necked vial of glass without\nbreaking it? According to our tables, on three different occasions the\nblood, after its usual liquefactions and changes in September, _filled_   541\nthe ampulla, and was so locked up at the end of the novena. It was\nfound _full_ and _hard_ in December following, and, not liquefying at\nall, was again locked up in the same condition. It was found in\nprecisely the same state when the reliquary was again taken out in the\nMay following. Here, on three occasions, the contents of the vial,\nsolid and completely filling it, must have remained unextracted from\nSeptember to May, seven months. Yet in the May octaves that followed,\nthe liquefactions went on as usual. No freshly inserted compound was\nnecessary for the liquefaction. The same reasoning applies in a\nmeasure to the numerous cases in which such a fulness went over, four\nmonths and a half, from May to September, or nearly three months, from\nSeptember to December.\n\nAgain, in quite a number of instances, as the same tables show, the\ncondition of the blood, when locked up, is noted as _liquid with a\nfloating hard lump_, as was the case on the 16th of December, 1870.\nWhen it was taken out, the next day, or after several months, though\noften found entirely hardened, yet not unfrequently--as on the 6th of\nMay, 1871--it was found in precisely the same state in which it had\nbeen put up: _liquid with a floating hard lump_. In all these cases,\nthe condition of the contents of the ampulla is a new and insuperable\nobjection to the supposition that a newly prepared amount of matter\nhad been inserted for the subsequent liquefactions. Did other\ncircumstances allow it, we might conceive a liquid to be poured out of\nthe ampulla, and a fresh liquid to be poured in. But how is the solid\nhard lump, that would not liquefy, to be got out? And if got out, how\nis another hard lump to be put in to replace it? Are the constituents\nof this new hard lump poured into the ampulla separately, as liquids\nor powders that can pass through the neck? Then their character must\nbe such that, instead of uniting with the liquid already there, or the\nconstituents of the liquid portion, they will, on the contrary,\ncombine apart to form the hard mass. But if so antagonistic to the\nliquid portion, how is it that, when the lump does liquefy during the\nensuing exposition, these constituents at once intimately unite with\nthe liquid, the whole forming a homogeneous mass, which without the\nleast indication of any antagonism between its component parts will\nhenceforth solidify and liquefy as a single mass?\n\nThe more carefully the facts of the case are studied, the more\nimperatively do they exclude every hypothesis save the simple one\nwhich so many other facts corroborate, that no attempt has been made\nto change the contents of the ampulla. Every- thing about the ampulla\nexcludes the idea that it is regularly tampered with privately between\nthe expositions.\n\nThere is still another light in which we must view this charge of\nfraud. Ever since the opening of the new _Tesoro_, in 1646, there have\nbeen attached to that chapel twelve chaplains and a _custos_, with\ninferior attendants as needed. In the cathedral itself, at least from\n1496, there have been twenty canons and beneficiaries, besides minor\nattendants. When the liquefaction takes place in the _Tesoro_, the\nreliquary is in the hands of the chaplains, who act in turn, or\nrelieve each other as convenient. When it occurs in the procession or\nin the cathedral, or in some other church, the reliquary is in the\ncharge of the canons, who similarly relieve each other. Hence, canons\nand chaplains, all alike, must be cognizant of the fraud, if any there    542\nbe, and must participate in it. Add to these the archbishops and their\nvicars-general in Naples since 1496. Add also those clergymen who,\nhaving been canons or chaplains, have passed to other dignities, or\nhave retired from their office, but must of course still retain the\nknowledge of this fraud, if they once possessed it. We may say that\nthere have been on an average, at all times, forty ecclesiastics, if\nnot more, who had cognizance of the fraud, if there were any. The\ndignity of canon of the cathedral or chaplain of the _Tesoro_ is\nordinarily reached only after years of meritorious service in the\nlower grades of the ministry. Hence the canons and chaplains are\nusually men of mature and advanced age. We can scarcely give them more\nthan fifteen years of average life. We have thus about a thousand\nclergymen since A.D. 1500, all charged with being cognizant of and\nparticipators in the fraud.\n\nNow, what was the character of those men? Those among whom they lived,\nand who knew them, respected them as a body of men devoted to the\nservice of God, pure and exemplary ecclesiastics, proved by years\nspent in the zealous works of the ministry. Some were men of honorable\nand noble families; others were men distinguished in the walks of\nliterature and science; some had sacrificed all the world promised\nthem, in order to spend their lives in the sanctuary. Some were\nrevered in life, and remembered after death, as pre-eminently true\nservants of God, men of prayer, of strong faith, and of singularly\npure and saintly lives. Of course, individuals here or there may\nindeed have been wicked or hypocritical. But this testimony of the\npeople to their character must have been true of the great body.\n\nNow, could such men have all united in this fraud? On their own\nprinciples and convictions, and according to the doctrines they taught\nand should themselves practise, there could scarcely be a more heinous\nsin against God and his holy religion, than to palm off a trick of\ncrafty men as a miracle of God\u2019s working. Could they bring themselves\nto it?\n\nIs it possible that no one of them ever repented, even in the presence\nof death, and sought to save his soul, and to make reparation, by\ndisclosing the fraud and arresting the evil? Could all have chosen to\ndie impenitent, with the certainty of everlasting damnation before\nthem, rather than reveal the blasphemous and, to them, henceforth\nuseless trick? The thing is impossible.\n\nAgain, men, even though good and pious, may be garrulous. All men have\ntheir unguarded moments. How came it that the secret never leaked out\nfrom any one of them during all these years?\n\nAgain, among so many there must have been men wicked, avaricious,\npassionate, revengeful. How comes it that no one sought to make money\nby revealing the secret; that no one declared it through anger; that\nno one did so in retaliation when he was punished by his\necclesiastical superiors?\n\nNay, more, we fear that instances might be found in which, toward the\nclose of the last century, some of them were carried away by the\nirreligious mania then prevailing, and became the companions of\ninfidels, if not themselves infidels. And unless our memory is at\nfault, one or two yielded to the blandishments and the privileges of\nProtestantism. How comes it that, through such, the world has not\nlearned how this antiquated trick is actually done? Obviously, they\nhad no disclosure to make. This is the only possible answer.              543\n\nThere is still more to be said on this point. The civil authorities of\nNaples are, and have been for two hundred and twenty-four years, joint\ncustodians with the archbishop and clergy of the _Tesoro_ chapel and\nof the relics of St. Januarius. They keep one set of the keys of the\n_Armoire_, or closet, which can never be opened save in the presence\nof one of their members, whom they send as a delegate, and whose sworn\nduty it is never to lose sight of the reliquary until it is placed in\nits closet, and he assists in duly locking it up. During these two\nhundred and twenty-four years, Naples has again and again changed\nmasters. Austrians, Lombards, Spaniards, and French--Bourbon,\nImperial, and Republican--have held, as the Piedmontese now hold, the\ncity, which in fact has oftener been ruled by strangers than by\nNeapolitans. These rulers have been men of every character, from the\nbest to the worst; often rough, ruthless soldiers, who brooked no\nopposition, and were ever ready with the sword; often keen, crafty\ncivilians, ready to cajole, to bribe, and to deceive, and thoroughly\npractised to detect plots and ferret out hidden things; sometimes\nprofessed infidels and avowed enemies of all religion; oftener\npolitical enemies of the Neapolitan clergy, whose hearts, of course,\nwere with their own oppressed people. How comes it that none of these\nrulers at any time have ever discovered and made known the fraud?\n\nCan we suppose that those rulers, ill-disposed as they often were\ntoward the clergy, could or would sacrifice their own interests, their\npolicy, their jealousies, and their personal feeling, in order to\nco-operate in a fraud, the success of which would certainly be less\nagreeable, perhaps far less profitable, to them, than its failure and\nexposure?\n\nWould not the French infidels, in 1799, have gladly put this stigma on\nthe odious cause of Christianity?\n\nAnd, in these present years, would not Ratazzi, Garibaldi, and their\nparty gladly do it if they could? What a triumph it would be for them\nif they could strike this blow at \u201cclericalism\u201d--a blow far more\neffective than fining, imprisoning, or exiling bishops and priests and\nreligious! They would glory in doing it if it were possible. What\nholds them back? There are no limits to their hatred or to their\npowers of calumny. They are ever denouncing the ignorance and the\nblind superstition of priests and people. But the very gist and\ncopiousness of their invectives prove that they themselves know and\nfeel that the priests and people are alike sincere. It is the depth\nand earnestness of that sincerity which excites their rage.\n\nBrought face to face, in Naples, with this manifestation of the\nsupernatural, the civil government, whatever the political\ncircumstances and whatever the private character of individual members\nof it, have always seemed struck with awe, and have never failed in\nrespect. Nay, more, they have ever claimed and exercised their\nprivilege of sending their delegate to intervene in the exposition.\n\nAnd so, after all, on the 19th of this last September, as in times\npast, they did send a delegate, with his scarlet embroidered bag, and\nthe two antique keys chained together; and the doors of the\n_Armoire_ were opened; and the relics were reverently taken out and\ncarried to the altar; and the blood was seen to be _hard_; and the\nclergy and the crowd prayed and waited for the miracle; \u201cand, after\neight minutes of prayer, the hard mass became entirely liquid.\u201d\n\nThere is an anecdote current in the world on this subject which we        544\nhave heard cited as peremptory against much of what we have just said.\nThe anecdote, in passing from mouth to mouth, has become so vague and\nso full of variations that we would scarcely know how to present it,\nhad we not found a precise and _quasi_ authoritative form of it in the\ncolumns of the _Coryph\u00e6us_ of French infidelity, the _Si\u00e8cle_ of Paris\nof the date of October 11, 1856:\n\n     \u201cThe history of Championnet did some damage to the miracle of St.\n     Januarius in the minds of a great many. In 1799, the French army\n     was in Naples, where it had been well received at first.... On\n     the 6th of May, the crowd filled the chapel of the cathedral....\n     For more than half an hour the priest had been turning backward\n     and foward, on his hands, the round silver lantern with two faces\n     of glass within which is preserved the precious blood in a small\n     vial. The little reddish mass would not quit its state of\n     solidity.... The exasperated populace commenced to attribute the\n     stubbornness of San Gennaro to the presence of the French. There\n     was danger of a tumult, when an aid hastened to notify General\n     Championnet of the suspicious conduct of the saint. In a few\n     moments the aid returned, approached the priest politely, and\n     said a few words in his ear. What he did say is not precisely\n     known, but he had scarcely said it when the blood at once\n     liquefied, to the great joy of the people, who at last had their\n     miracle.\u201d\n\nAlexandre Dumas, in one of his novels, narrates the same story much\nmore dramatically. According to him, \u201cGeneral Championnet saw that it\nwas important for his safety and the safety of the army that the\nmiracle should not fail that year; and he made up his mind that, one\nway or another, it should positively occur.\u201d The first Sunday of May\nwas near at hand. On the vigil (May 4, 1799), the procession marched,\nbut between files of French grenadiers. That night the city was\npatrolled by French and Italian soldiers jointly. All day Sunday the\nmiracle was patiently waited for; but in vain. Six in the afternoon\ncame--Championnet, with his staff, was in his elevated _loggia_ or\ngallery. The people began at length to lose patience and to vociferate\nangrily. At 7 P.M. they were brandishing knives and threatening the\ngeneral, who pretended not to understand or heed them. At 8 P.M. the\nstreets around were filled with other crowds equally threatening. \u201cThe\ngrenadiers waited on a signal from the general to charge bayonets. The\ngeneral continued unmoved.\u201d At half-past eight, as the tumult was\nstill increasing, \u201cthe general bent over and whispered something to an\naid-de-camp.\u201d The aid left the stand, and passed up to the altar and\nknelt in the front rank, and waited. In five minutes the canon,\nbearing the reliquary, came round to him in his turn. He kissed the\nreliquary as others did; but, while doing so, grasped the priest\u2019s\nhand in his.\n\n     \u201c\u2018Father, a word with you.\u2019\n\n     \u201c\u2018What is it?\u2019 asked the priest.\n\n     \u201c\u2018I must say to you, on the part of the general commanding, that\n     if in ten minutes the miracle is not accomplished, in fifteen\n     minutes your reverence shall be shot.\u2019\n\n     \u201cThe canon let the reliquary fall from his hands. Fortunately,\n     the young officer caught it before it reached the ground, and\n     gave it back with every mark of profound respect. Then he arose\n     and returned to his place near the general.\n\n     \u201c\u2018Well?\u2019 said the general.\n\n     \u201c\u2018All right, general,\u2019 said the young officer. \u2018In ten minutes\n     the miracle will take place.\u2019\n\n     \u201cThe aid-de-camp spoke the truth; nevertheless he made a mistake\n     of five minutes; for at the end of five minutes only, the canon\n     raised the reliquary aloft, exclaiming, _Il miracolo \u00e8 fatto_.\n     The blood was completely liquefied.\u201d\n\nWe suppose we may take these as the best versions of the same story.\nThe other French and late English versions we have met of it, however     545\nthey may vary in minor details, all agree as to the person--General\nChampionnet, and as to the year, 1799. So far as we can judge, the\n_Si\u00e8cle_ and the other writers got their facts from the novelist. It\nis their way. When they attack religion, all manner of weapons are\nacceptable. Where the novelist got it we need scarcely inquire.\nCertainly, on a pinch, he was capable of inventing it out of the whole\ncloth. But we can only credit him with twisting and reversing an older\nstory. In a work entitled _Naples and Campagna Felice_, printed in\nLondon in 1815, there is an earlier account of \u201cthe very recent\nexperiment of General Championnet.\u201d\n\n     \u201cWhen this _Champion_ of liberty entered Naples with his unhosed\n     _enfans de la patrie_, his curiosity, or rather his infidelity,\n     prompted him to direct the priests forthwith to perform the\n     ceremony before him and his companions, the philosophic\n     worshippers of the Goddess of Reason.... \u2018The miracle must be\n     exhibited this instant, or I\u2019ll smash your vials and all your\n     nonsense into a thousand pieces.\u2019... Every devout effort of the\n     priests proved vain; even the general\u2019s active assistance and\n     repeated trials to give fluidity to the indurated blood, by means\n     of natural and artificial heat, were equally unsuccessful.\u201d\n\nThis want of success, according to, the teller of the story, was due\nto the fact that the relatives of St. Januarius were not present. The\ngeneral sent soldiers to arrest them, and had them brought into the\nchurch.\n\n     \u201cA second experiment was now instituted in due form: which, to\n     the utter amazement of the French part of the congregation, and\n     to the inward delight of all the pious Neapolitans, succeeded\n     almost instantaneously.\u201d\n\nWere it not for the identity of names and place, we could scarcely\nrecognize this earlier English version, with its characteristic\ncontempt of French philosophers and _enfans de la patrie_, and its\nresult of the experiment so satisfactory to the Neapolitans, as in\nreality the original form of the story, which Dumas, and after him\nmany others, have dressed up and presented to the world with such\ndifferent details, and with a result exactly opposite.\n\nBut a regard for truth obliges us to reject this earlier form, no less\nthan those which followed, as, all of them, pure fictions. The\nevidence is clear and to the point.\n\nI. On May 4,1799, General Championnet was not in Naples. He had\nentered that city with his army on the 28th of January preceding, and\nhad established \u201cThe Parthenopean Republic\u201d; but he had been relieved\nof his command before May; possibly on account of ill health, for he\ndied at Antibes a few months later. His successor in the command at\nNaples was General, afterwards Marshal Macdonald.\n\nII. The diary of the _Tesoro_ chapel, and the archiepiscopal diary,\nin their accounts of the exposition on Saturday, May 4, 1799, both\nmention the presence of General Macdonald with his officers.\n\nIII. According to the same authorities, the liquefaction, so far from\nbeing long delayed, that day took place quite soon--after a lapse of\nonly ten minutes.\n\nIV. They indicate the very respectful demeanor of the French general,\nand his expressions of reverence; expressions which, by the way, he\nconfirmed afterwards by presenting to the _Tesoro_ chapel a beautiful\nsilk mitre, rich in gold work and jewels, which is still shown in the\nsacristy.\n\nV. Finally, to clinch the whole matter, we quote the following extract\nfrom a contemporary letter, published at the time in the official         546\norgan at Paris--the _Moniteur_, No. 259, of date 19 Prairial, Year VII.\n(June 10, 1799).\n\n     \u201cNaples, 21 Flor\u00e9al (May 13).--The festival of St. Januarius has\n     just been celebrated with the customary solemnity. General\n     Macdonald (successor to Championnet), Commissary Abrial, and all\n     the staff, witnessed the renowned miracle. As it took place\n     somewhat sooner than usual, the people think better of us\n     Frenchmen, and do not look on us any more as atheists.\u201d\n\nThe writer little thought what a dramatic story a novelist\u2019s\nimagination would conjure up, and some credulous people would believe,\ninstead of the simple matter-of-fact statement he gave _en\npassant_ of the solemnity he had just witnessed. A more complete\nrefutation of the whole story could not be desired than that afforded\nby the words and tone of this letter.\n\nWe have been diffuse on the charge of fraud. But when we consider the\npersistence with which it is made, and the variety of forms in which\nit is presented; and that, after all, for most minds, the alternative\nis between a suspicion of fraud, on one side, and the recognition of\nthe miraculous character of the liquefaction, on the other--it was\nproper to treat this charge at length and in all its aspects.\n\nWe have seen that the publicity of everything about the exposition\nperemptorily forbids every form of legerdemain during the ceremony.\nEqually inadmissible is the supposition of some chemical compound\nprepared beforehand. For no chemical compound which man can prepare\nwill liquefy, as this does, independently of heat, and under such\ndiverse circumstances, or will present the many varying phases which\nare here seen. The most artistic attempts have utterly failed, and\nmust ever fail. For they are all subject to the laws of nature; while,\nin this liquefaction, the laws of nature are clearly set aside.\n\nAgain, all testimony goes to show that the ampulla is not opened from\ntime to time to receive any chemical preparation.\n\nMoreover, if there were any fraud, it would have been known to nearly\na thousand clergymen, and no one can say to how many laymen. Yet pious\nmen were never heard to denounce it; repentant men never disclosed it;\nhigh-minded and honorable men never repudiated it in scorn, vile and\nmercenary men were never moved by anger, revenge, desire of pecuniary\ngain, or other potent motives, to betray it. Even political enmities\nand fierce party strife, so prone to indulge in charges of fraud, have\nfailed in Naples to stigmatize this as a fraud. Evidently, there was\nno fraud known or suspected there. In fine, were there a fraud, this\nuniversal silence would be a greater miracle than the liquefaction\nitself.\n\nIt has been asked, sometimes jeeringly, perhaps sometimes seriously,\nif the Neapolitans are in such perfect faith and so sure of the\ncharacter of the substance which liquefies in the ampulla, why are\nthey unwilling to submit that substance to the test of chemical\nanalysis? Is not their omission, nay, their unwillingness to do this,\na confession on their part of the weakness of their cause?\n\nTo one who knows them, or who even reflects for a moment on the\nsubject, the answer is obvious. It is their perfect good faith itself,\nand their consequent veneration for what they look on as sacred and\nspecially blessed of God, and not any fear or doubt, that would make\nthem rise in indignation against what, in their eyes, would be a          547\nprofane and unwarrantable desecration.\n\nThere are limits, they would protest, to the intrusive and irreverent\nmeddling of men under pretexts of science. Are there not many points\nin pathology and physiology on which further knowledge is very\ndesirable--a knowledge which some think can be reached best and most\nsurely, if not only, by vivisection, especially of human subjects,\nwhether in normal health or presenting peculiar developments? Shall\nwe, therefore, in the interests of science, pick out such cases in a\ncommunity, and deliver them over to be cut up alive, and their still\nliving bodies to be explored by these science-seeking experimenters?\nKnowledge is good and profitable, undoubtedly; but human life is\nsacred, and must be preserved intact, even though these men remain in\nthe dark on various obscure points.\n\nSo, too, holding as they do that the ampulla contains a portion of the\nveritable blood of St. Januarius, preserved by miracle of divine\nProvidence, and miraculously liquefied on his feasts, the Neapolitans\nwould shrink in horror from the sacrilegious profanity of delivering\nit over to the retorts and crucibles, and mortars and solutions, of a\nchemical laboratory.\n\nChemical experiments, they would say, are very respectable and very\nadmirable in their place; but there are things too precious and too\nsacred to be submitted to them. In refusing to do so, the Neapolitans\ndo not confess a sense of the weakness of their own cause. They rather\nmanifest their sincere veneration for what they believe God has\nspecially honored.\n\nAs for the plea that this test would solve the question, the\nNeapolitans would reply that for some minds nothing is ever solved.\nIf men wish really to know the truth, let them examine the evidences\nwhich were appealed to before modern chemistry was invented. Those\nevidences still exist, and are ample and irrefragable. \u201cThey have\nMoses and the prophets; if they will not hear them, neither will they\nbelieve, though one rose from the dead.\u201d\n\nOne other objection remains: does God act uselessly? And of what\npossible use is this miracle? What is the benefit of wonderfully\npreserving from utter destruction, through so many centuries, a small\nportion of blood, and of causing it to soften or liquefy fifteen or\ntwenty times a year, when brought, even if reverently, close to the\nhead of the martyr from whose veins it flowed? What good does this do?\nIs it not so trifling and insignificant a thing as to be almost\nridiculous, and entirely unworthy of the majesty of God?\n\nWho shall presume to say that it is unworthy of God--of that God\nwithout whose knowledge and permission not a hair can fall from our\nheads--of that Saviour who mixed clay with the spittle of his mouth,\nand therewith touched the eyes of the blind man, that sight might be\nrestored to them? It is not for us to decide what is becoming or\nunbecoming for God to do.\n\nWho shall say that it is useless? Has not the faith of a simple-minded\npeople been confirmed and strengthened by it, to such a degree that\nthe truths of divine revelation and the obligations of man before God\nare to them verities as strong, as clear, and as real in their daily\nlife as is the sunlight that beams down on their fair land? How many\nsinners have been led, through it, to repentance and amendment of\nlife? How often have the indifferent been stirred up to avoid evil and    548\nto do good, and the good animated to greater fervor and earnestness in\ndeeds of piety and virtue? And, after all, are not these the grand\npurposes of all God\u2019s dealings with men?\n\nNor is this miracle--for such we call it, although the church has\nnever spoken authoritatively on the point--alien from doctrine.\nWrought in honor of a sainted and martyred bishop, it is a perpetual\ntestimony to the truth of the doctrines he preached, and of the church\nwhich glories in him as one of her exemplary and venerated ministers;\nit is a confirmation of the homage and veneration she pays to him\nbecause he chose rather to sacrifice his life than to deny the Saviour\nwho had redeemed and illumined him. Wrought within her fold, it is a\npermanent evidence that she is in fact and in spirit the same now as\nin the early days of persecution--the ever true and faithful church of\nChrist.\n\nIt is a confirmation, likewise, of the doctrine of the resurrection of\nthe dead--that special doctrine which the apostles put forth so\nprominently in the beginning of their preaching; which was ever\npresent to the minds of the early Christians, cheering and\nstrengthening them when this world was dark around them; which formed\nthe frequent theme of their pastoral instructions and their mutual\nexhortations, and became the prevailing subject of their household and\ntheir sacred ornamentation in their homes and in their oratories, and\nover their tombs in the catacombs; which gave a special tone to their\nfaith, their hope, and their charity and love of God, and was, as it\nwere, the very lifeblood of their Christianity.\n\nNowadays, outside the church, how faint, comparatively, has belief in\nthis doctrine become, or, rather, has it not died out almost\ncompletely from the thoughts and the hearts of men? Within the church,\nthe solemn rites of Christian sepulture, burying the dead in\nconsecrated ground, tells us of it. The preservation and the\nveneration of the relics of saints and martyrs teach it still more\nstrongly. Does not tangible evidence, as it were, come to it anew from\nheaven by this constant and perpetual miracle, showing that the bodies\nof the sainted dead are in the custody of him who made them, and who\nhas promised that he will raise them up again in glory?\n\nFinally, this miracle seems to us especially adapted to our own age,\nwhen over-much knowledge is making men mad. Men are so lifted up by\ntheir progress, especially in natural sciences, that they have come to\nfeel that they can dispense with God and substitute NATURE in his\nstead, with her multifarious and unchangeable laws. They boast that,\nunder the light of their newly-acquired knowledge, everything is\nalready, or will soon be, susceptible of natural explanation. As for\nmiracles--direct interventions of God in the affairs of the world,\nreversing or suspending, in special cases, these ordinary laws of\nnature--they scout the idea. All past accounts of miracles, no matter\nwhen or by whom recorded, they hold to be either accounts of natural\nevents warped and distorted by excited and unrestrained imaginations,\nor else the pure fictions of superstition and credulity. They are sure\nthat, in the first case, had there been present witnesses of\nsufficient knowledge and caution--such knowledge and caution as they\npossess--the accounts of those events would have come down to us in a\nfar simpler garb, and unclothed with this miraculous robing. They are\nequally sure that, in the other case, education, especially in the        549\nphysical sciences, would have forbidden the creation of those\nnumberless fictions.\n\nWell, here, in the light of this nineteenth century, in one of the\nmost polished, most delightful, and most accessible cities of\nItaly--centuries ago the largest, and even now the fourth largest, in\nEurope--there occurs an event to which their attention is invited. It\nis not an event of which a few only can be witnesses, and which all\nothers must learn on their testimony. It occurs in public. It occurs\nfifteen or twenty times each year, and year after year. All may\nscrutinize it again and again, as often and as closely as they please.\nNo mystery is made of anything about it. We admit it has come down to\nus from the middle ages, dark, ignorant, and superstitious as they are\nalleged to have been. But then, if it belongs to the past, it occurs\nstill, and belongs equally to this nineteenth century. Moreover, it\ncomes directly in contact with those physical sciences in which they\nthink themselves strongest, and it should, therefore, interest them,\nand claim their attention.\n\nWill they accept the invitation? We think very few will heed it.\n\nMany would not dare to believe in a miracle nowadays, not even if it\nhappened to themselves. They take their ground beforehand. Since\nmiracles are impossible, any special one must of necessity be\nfalse--either a fraud or a delusion. They know from the beginning what\nthe result of inquiring into this one must be--why give themselves\nunnecessary trouble? Such minds choose their own side, and implicitly\nchoose the consequences that follow.\n\nOthers pretend to examine, but do it with a resolute and unshakable\npredetermination that this must _not_ be found out to be a miracle.\nThey foster a prejudice which may blind their eyes to the light; and\nthey, too, make themselves equally responsible for their conclusion\nand its consequences.\n\nBut if any one--Catholic, Protestant, or Rationalist--will examine it\nseriously and candidly, no matter how closely and patiently--nay, the\nmore closely and patiently, the more surely--he will come to the same\ninevitable conclusion to which such an examination has heretofore led\nso many other candid and intelligent inquirers: _Digitus Dei est hic_:\nThe Finger of God is here.\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n                     THE NEW SCHOOL OF HISTORY.\n\n\nIf the ghost of Tacitus could return from the Acherontic shades, learn\nthe English language, and spend a few weeks in reading the most\npopular modern works in that branch of letters of which he was in his\nday the conspicuous ornament, he would rend his toga in despair, and\nmourn over the ruin of one of the noblest of the sciences. The\n\u201cdignity of history\u201d was not an unmeaning phrase when kings, consuls,\nand military commanders moved with stately pace through the polished\npages, and uttered the most heroic of sentiments in the most formal of\naddresses. Ancient authors would have deemed it the grossest indecency\nto quote familiar language from the lips of any historical character,\nor to let the world imagine that men who concerned themselves with        550\nthe destinies of states, behaved even in moments of relaxation like\nthe men who buy and sell in the shops, and confine their cares to\ncommonplace domestic matters. And yet what could be more absurd than\nto suppose that generals addressed their armies amid the heat of\nbattle in a speech regularly compounded of exordium, argument,\nexhortation, and peroration; or that great men wore the grand manner\nto bed with them, and put on civic crowns before they washed their\nfaces in the morning? It is not so very many years since Cato used to\nbe represented on the English stage in a powdered wig and a\ndress-sword, which was not more incongruous than the spectacle\npresented by all the old statesmen and fighting characters of\nantiquity, mouthing orations, and posing themselves in the best of the\nclassical histories. Perhaps it was something to be thankful for that,\nin the eclipse of learning during the disturbed middle ages, the art\nof writing history after the heroic manner was lost. The chroniclers\nof feudal times devoted infinite pains to the reeord of facts--as well\nas the record of many things that were not facts--but knew little of\nthe graces of literary composition, and cared nothing for the dignity\nof history. They stripped off the heavy robes, and showed us the\ndeformed and clumsy figures underneath. Lacking literary culture and\nthe fine art of discrimination, they left us only the bare materials\nof history instead of the historical structure itself. Industrious but\ninjudicious collectors, they were sometimes amusingly garrulous,\nsometimes provokingly uninteresting; but their labors were invaluable,\nand modern scholars owe them a debt which can never be repaid. It is\nonly within a hundred years that English writers have tried to combine\nthe merits of the ancient and the medi\u00e6val schools, discarding the\ncumbrous and delusive garments in which Herodotus and Livy used to\nwrap up the Muse Clio, and draping the bare skeletons of the annalists\nwith comely mantles. There was a portentous dulness in most of the\nearlier essays in the reviving art, scarcely interrupted until Hume\nembodied his sceptical philosophy in a history of England, and the\ninfidel Gibbon threw a lurid splendor over the chronicles of the\ndeclining empire. Both these eminent writers brought to their work an\nelegance of style worthy of the classical period, and a vigor of\nthought so different from the unreflecting industry of their plodding\npredecessors, that the falsehood underlying their narrative was not\nreadily perceived, or was too easily pardoned. Boldness of theory, and\nin Gibbon a sardonic wit, added interest to the charms of the\nwell-told story. But Hume and Gibbon, as well as many of their less\ndistinguished contemporaries, labored under a radically wrong theory.\nThey accommodated historical narrative to the illustration of\npreconceived principles, instead of deducing the principles from the\nfacts; and left us, consequently, volumes of sophistical argument,\nrather than chronicles of actual occurrences and pictures of actual\nsociety.\n\nIt was not until Macaulay arose in England, and Prescott in the United\nStates, that the modern school of historical writing was fairly\ndeveloped. Macaulay explained his own theory when he said that \u201ca\nperfect historian must possess an imagination sufficiently powerful to\nmake his narrative affecting and picturesque, yet must control it so\nabsolutely as to content himself with the materials which he finds,\nand to refrain from supplying deficiencies by additions of his own.\u201d      551\nWilliam H. Prescott, though he sometimes trusted authorities who did\nnot deserve his confidence, and was swayed by religious prejudice and\nan inability to comprehend the spirit of Catholic faith, came nearer\nto the perfection of Macaulay\u2019s ideal than any previous writer. His\nimagination adorned the romantic tales of conquest and adventure in\nthe New World with a splendor till then unknown; yet no one could\ncharge that he had been led away by the temptations of a too luxuriant\nfancy, or had heightened the effect of his narrative by a single touch\nunauthorized in the musty chronicles from which he drew his material.\nPrescott\u2019s earlier histories are stories in which the actors stand\nforth with as much distinctness, and incidents follow one another with\nas much rapidity and as close connection, as in a well-constructed\nnovel. In his unfinished _Philip II._, he entered upon a wider field,\nwhich required a different treatment. It was no longer sufficient to\ntell a story well; he had to paint the manners of an age, the life and\ncharacter of a nation, and to unravel the network of intrigue which\nconstitutes the political history of Europe during a long and stirring\nperiod of time. That he did this, so far as his labors extended, with\nconsummate art, no American reader needs to be told. But the system\nwhich he pursued was carried to a greater length by Macaulay--the best\ntype, upon the whole, of the new school of historians of whom we\npurposed speaking in this article. Macaulay assumed that history ought\nto show us not merely the revolutions of dynasties, the clash of\narmies, and the intrigues of cabinets, but the daily life and\nconversation of all ranks of the people, from the prince to the\npeasant. It ought to teach us their habits of thought and their mode\nof speech. It ought to open for us their private homes, their\nworkshops, and their churches. It ought to depict national habits and\ncharacter, or it could not explain national tendencies and\naspirations. To do this, it must pick up a multitude of little things\nwhich the older writers thought beneath the dignity of history. It\nmust invade the province of the poet and the novelist. Otherwise, he\nwho would understand the reign of King James must read half of it in\nHume and half in _The Fortunes of Nigel_.[116] Macaulay made many\nmistakes in the execution of this noble plan. He picked up too many\nthings which were not so much undignified as untrustworthy. The\nsketches of society which he drew with such a masterly hand may have\nbeen true in their general effect; but he blundered in details.\nBesides, he was as hot a partisan as Hume, as inveterate a theorist as\neven the author of _The Decline and Fall_.\n\nWhatever his mistakes and shortcomings, Macaulay rendered an\ninvaluable service to literature by the impetus which his brilliant\nexample gave to the new principles of historical composition. He may\nbe said to have dealt the finishing blow to the old style, and shown\nus how a minute, faithful, and vivacious story ought to be set before\nthe world--how the historian must draw his materials, not only from\nstate-paper offices and formal chronicles, but from gossiping diaries,\nballads, pamphlets, and all other sources in which are preserved\ntraces of the condition of society and the domestic annals of the\npeople. The period which he undertook to illustrate offered peculiar\nadvantages for the development of his plan. It was a period when a\ngreat change was taking place in English customs and ways of thought.     552\nThe revolution, which not only exchanged one dynasty for another, but\nmetamorphosed the very system of English government, merely followed\nin the path of a remarkable intellectual and social transformation,\nwithout which the political reversal would have been impossible. The\nevents of the reign of James II. could not be explained under the old\nplan of writing history on stilts. They were incomprehensible except\nby one who could mingle familiarly with the English people, and learn\nby what steps they had reached their new departure. Only one period in\nthe history of England showed changes of equal importance. That was\nthe period which witnessed England\u2019s apostasy from the Catholic faith;\nand it is the period which one of the latest and most brilliant of\nEnglish historians has chosen for the subject of a work planned (if\nnot executed) after Macaulay\u2019s model.\n\nMr. James Anthony Froude attempted to trace the development of the\nEnglish nation, from the day of Henry\u2019s formal separation from the\ncommunion of the Holy See to the final establishment of Protestant\nascendency at the death of Elizabeth. This is by no means the task he\nhas accomplished, but it is the task he set himself at the beginning\nof his work. He purposed to show the processes by which a people,\ndevotedly and even heroically faithful to the Roman See, became first\nschismatic and then heretical; how their character under the change of\nfaith took on a new color; how the foundations of the English\nsupremacy over Ireland and Scotland were laid in blood and crime; and\nhow the maritime ascendency which has lasted three hundred years was\nestablished by the daring and enterprise of English sailors during the\nlatter half of Elizabeth\u2019s reign. Never had historian a more tempting\ntheme. If Mr. Froude had been a man of philosophical spirit, acute\ninsight, industry, and literary honesty, he might have produced a work\nthat for brilliancy would have rivalled Macaulay\u2019s, and for dramatic\ninterest would have been almost unequalled in our language. There was\nno lack of material. Since Hume and Lingard--one the most misleading,\nthe other the driest of modern English historians--had treated the\nsame period, an immense store of records and official documents had\nbecome accessible to scholars. The British State-Paper Office abounded\nwith historic wealth which the earlier writers did not know. The\narchives of Simancas disclosed secrets long unsuspected, and\nunravelled mysteries that had long baffled investigators. And from a\nthousand sources new light had been thrown upon the social condition\nof England, new illustrations given of the tendency of English\nthought, new explanations offered of the development of English\nstrength and English character.\n\nIn his first volume, Mr. Froude seemed to appreciate the nature of his\ntask, and to go about it with something of the proper spirit. He set\nbefore us a lifelike picture of England in the early part of Henry\u2019s\nreign, and displayed admirable art in reproducing the manners, the\nconversation, and the tendencies of the common people, as well as the\nsuperficial characteristics of the chief actors in the historical\ndrama. But even in the first volume he showed the glaring faults which\nvitiated all his later labors, and, increasing as the work went on,\nmade his history at last one of the worst that the present generation\nhas produced. Fired with the zeal of a blind partisan, he forgot all\nhis earlier purposes and all his earlier pictorial art in the\nenthusiasm of a fierce religious bigotry. It became his object to         553\ndescribe a conflict for the possession of England between the powers\nof darkness and the powers of light. On the one hand stood the Pope of\nRome and his agents, Catharine of Aragon, Wolsey, Mary Tudor, Philip\nof Spain, and the Queen of Scots. On the other, arrayed beneath the\nbanner of civil and religious liberty, fought those bright beings,\nHenry VIII., Anne Boleyn, and Queen Elizabeth. Naturally, when\nElizabeth at last triumphed in the defeat of the Spanish Armada, Mr.\nFroude declared the battle over, and dropped his unfinished,\nill-proportioned story. One qualification he certainly had. He shrank\nfrom no paradox. He carried his theory boldly over the most serious\nobstacles, and took even the nastiest fences in the life of Henry\nwithout an instant\u2019s hesitation. The most fervent Anglicans were\namazed at Mr. Froude\u2019s admiration for the bluff, carnal-minded king,\nand wondered how he was to justify the new views of history which he\nset forth with such alluring boldness. It was not long before he\ntaught them his method. \u201cIt often seems to me,\u201d says Mr. Froude, in\none of his collected essays, \u201cas if history was like a child\u2019s box of\nletters, with which we can spell any word we please.\u201d Of course, when\nthe historian takes the liberty of leaving out facts which do not\nplease him, disarranging sequences which conflict with his\npreconceived theories, and giving his own peculiar coloring to\nincidents without caring what coloring actually belongs to them, it is\nindeed easy enough to make history spell whatever he pleases. At the\nvery outset, Mr. Froude had an opportunity to try his skill in\naccommodating facts to theories. He began his story with Henry\u2019s\nproject for a divorce; and his starting-point was the assumption that\nthe king\u2019s scruples were thoroughly conscientious, and no thought was\ngiven to Anne while he believed himself legally married to Catharine.\nTo maintain this, the historian resorted to his characteristic\nvices--suppression and misrepresentation. He concealed the origin of\nHenry\u2019s intercourse with Anne Boleyn, bringing her on the stage some\nyears too late, with the air of one introducing a fresh arrival; and\nhe grossly distorted the contemporary records from which he professed\nto quote. The king\u2019s distaste for Catharine, he says, had risen to its\nworst dimensions before he ever saw Anne Boleyn. He adds that her\nfirst appearance at court was in 1525--which is an error, for she came\nto the court in 1522; and yet it was not until 1527 that we find Henry\nagitating the question of a divorce. That Mistress Anne during these\nfive years was otherwise employed than in fascinating his majesty, Mr.\nFroude apparently wishes us to infer from the story that she was\nengaged to Lord Percy, the eldest son of the Earl of Northumberland.\nLord Percy, to quote our author\u2019s words, \u201cwas in the household of\nCardinal Wolsey; and Cavendish, who was with him there, tells a long\nromantic story of the affair, which, if his account be true, was\nultimately interrupted by Lord Northumberland himself.\u201d This, if\nCavendish said it, would indeed afford a fair presumption that Anne\nwas not at that time (the date is given by other authorities as 1524\nor 1525) the object of the royal attentions. But Cavendish really says\nsomething very different. He declared that _the king sent for Lord\nNorthumberland, and ordered him to interrupt the affair_. Mr. Froude\ncould not help seeing this statement if he read Cavendish at all, and\nwe do not understand how he is to be acquitted of gross and\nintentional misrepresentation in making his authority convey a meaning    554\ndiametrically opposed to the one intended. After this, Mr. Froude goes\non with the story of the divorce as if Anne had no existence, and she\ndoes not appear again upon the scene until the stage has been nearly\ncleared for her.\n\nThis is a fair specimen of literary dishonesty or recklessness from\nthe first volume. Later instalments of the work, especially those\ndevoted to the Queen of Scots, have been dissected by an able hand in\nthe pages of this magazine. The series of papers in which Mr. James F.\nMeline examined in our columns Froude\u2019s account of Mary Stuart, have\nnow been incorporated with much additional matter in a volume entitled\n_Mary, Queen of Scots, and her Latest English Historian_.[117] No more\nthorough scarification of a literary offender has been published\nwithin our recollection. Mr. Meline has traced the historian\u2019s\nauthorities with admirable patience, disclosed his falsifications, his\nmisconceptions, his suppressions, and his interpolations, and utterly\ndemolished the case which Elizabeth\u2019s advocate made against the\nunfortunate Mary. It is common to meet with uneducated people who\ncannot tell a story correctly, or repeat the words of a conversation\nwithout grossly distorting their meaning. Partly from defects of\nmemory, partly from an intellectual deficiency which prevents them\nfrom apprehending things exactly as they are, such persons invariably\nmisreport what they have seen and heard. What such people are to\nsociety, Mr. Froude seems to be to history. The _Saturday Review_ says\nthat he has not \u201cfully grasped the nature of inverted commas.\u201d If he\nquotes a state paper, he leaves out essential passages, and inserts\nstatements which rest upon no authority but his own. He gives his\nconjectures as if they were recorded facts. He disingenuously combines\nunconnected facts so as to bear out his private conjectures.\n\nThese are serious charges to bring against a writer of history; but\nthey are all proved by Mr. Meline\u2019s book. We do not purpose reviewing\nthe whole story of the Queen of Scots, or reviving the endless\ncontroversy upon her innocence, so soon after the task has been\nperformed in the pages of THE CATHOLIC WORLD by the author of the\nsavage little volume now before us. But we shall select and arrange\nfrom this record a few specimens of Mr. Froude\u2019s sins, that our\nreaders may judge for themselves how little claim this latest English\nhistory has to an honorable place on their library shelves.\n\n1. Mr. Froude begins early to prepare our minds for Mary\u2019s imputed\nprofligacy. \u201cShe was brought up,\u201d he says, \u201camidst the political\niniquities of the court of Catharine de Medicis.\u201d The fact is that\nMary never was at the court of Catharine de Medicis at all. Catharine\nhad no court, no influence, no position in history, until after Mary\nhad left France. And, besides, Mary and Catharine cordially detested\neach other.\n\n2. On the authority of Knox\u2019s _History of the Reformation_, he relates\nthat Knox had labored to save the Earl of Murray from the dangerous\nfascinations of his sister Mary, \u201cbut Murray had only been angry at\nhis interference, and \u2018they spake not familiarlie for more than a year\nand a half.\u2019\u201d But Knox gives an entirely different version of the\nquarrel. He writes that he had urged Murray to legalize by act of the\nparliament the confession of faith as the doctrine of the Church of       555\nScotland, but Murray was more intent upon his private interests--\u201cthe\nerledom of Murray needed confirmation, and many things were to be\nratified that concerned the help of friends and servants--and the\nmatter fell so hote betwixt the Erie of Murray and John Knox, that\nfamiliarlie after that time they spack nott together more than a year\nand a half.\u201d There is nothing about Mary\u2019s influence over her brother;\nthe influence was all on the other side.\n\n3. Mr. Froude assumes to quote from a dispatch of Randolph\u2019s to Cecil\na description of Mary\u2019s luxurious habits. \u201cWithout illness or\nimagination of it, she would lounge for days in bed, rising only at\nnight for dancing or music; and there she reclined with some light\ndelicate French robe carelessly draped about her, surrounded by her\nladies, her council, and her courtiers, receiving ambassadors and\ntransacting business of state. It was in this condition that Randolph\nfound her.\u201d (_Randolph to Cecil_, Sept. 4, 1563.) There is no such\ndescription in the dispatch. On the contrary, Mary is represented at\nthis period, both by Randolph and by other authorities, as\nindustrious, active, energetic, and capable, but at the same time in\nbad health.\n\n4. Mr. Froude thus travesties Randolph\u2019s account of the return of\nBothwell (1565): \u201cSuddenly, unlooked for and uninvited, the evil\nspirit of the storm, the Earl of Bothwell, reappeared at Mary\u2019s court.\nShe disclaimed all share in his return; he was still attainted; yet\nthere he stood--none daring to lift a hand against him--proud,\ninsolent, and dangerous.\u201d And he adds that \u201cthe Earl of Murray, at the\nexpense of forfeiting the last remains of his influence over his\nsister, summoned Bothwell to answer at Edinburgh a charge of high\ntreason.\u201d What Randolph really says is this: \u201cThe Queen misliketh\nBothwell\u2019s coming home, and has summoned him to undergo the law or be\nproclaimed a rebel.\u201d It was the Queen therefore, and not Murray, who\n\u201csummoned him to answer.\u201d Moreover, Bothwell did not appear at court,\nbut sought refuge among his vassals in Liddesdale.\n\n5. Mr. Froude speaks of Lennox having \u201cgathered about him a knot of\nwild and desperate youths--Cassilis, Eglinton, Montgomery, and\nBothwell.\u201d If he had read his authority (Randolph) with decent care,\nhe would have seen that these were not the friends of Lennox, but, on\nthe contrary, the strongest dependence of Murray and Argyle\n_against_ Lennox. Moreover, Eglinton and Montgomery are one and the\nsame person.\n\n6. A blunder which has already excited some discussion is Mr Froude\u2019s\nstatement, on the authority of a letter from Randolph to Cecil,\nOctober 5, 1565, that Mary, \u201cdeaf to advice as she had been to\nmenace,\u201d said she would have no peace till she had Murray\u2019s or\nChatelherault\u2019s head.\u201d There is no such letter. It appears, however,\nfrom a letter of Randolph\u2019s, dated October 4, that Mary was \u201cnot only\nuncertain as to what she should do, but inclined to clement measures,\nand so undecided as to hope that matters could be arranged.\u201d The\ndocument to which Mr. Froude refers is a letter from the Earl of\nBedford, who was not at Mary\u2019s court, but at Alnwick, on the English\nside of the border, and who consequently had no such opportunities as\nRandolph for knowing the temper of the Scottish Queen. But even\nBedford does not say what Mr. Froude reports. The earl merely relates\nthe substance of information brought back from the rebel camp by one\nof his officers. According to this man, Murray and the other rebel\nlords are dissatisfied with the little that England is doing to help      556\nthem, and _they_ say, \u201cThere is no talk of peace with that Queen, but\nthat she will first have a head of the duke or of the Earl of Murray.\u201d\n\n7. One instance of Mr. Froude\u2019s incorrigible propensity to blunder in\nthat peculiar manner which is vulgarly called \u201cgoing off at\nhalf-cock,\u201d deserves to be mentioned, not for its importance, but\nbecause it is amusing. He describes Mary on a furious night-ride of\n\u201ctwenty miles in two hours,\u201d at the end of which she wrote \u201cwith her\nown hand\u201d a letter to Elizabeth, \u201cfierce, dauntless, and haughty,\u201d\n\u201cthe strokes thick, and slightly uneven from excitement, but strong,\nfirm, and without sign of trembling.\u201d It is a pity to spoil such a\npicturesque passage; but the very letter which Mr. Froude seems to\nhave examined with such care contains the Queen\u2019s apology for\n_not_ writing it with her own hand, because she was \u201cso tired and ill\nat ease,\u201d and mentions, moreover, that the twenty-miles ride occupied\nfive hours, not two.\n\n8. In his account of the murder of Darnley, Mr. Froude pursues a\nsingularly devious course, through which his reviewer follows him with\ninimitable pertinacity. The historian accepts without reserve the most\nnotoriously untrustworthy authorities, distorts evidence, throws in a\nmultitude of artful suggestions, and suppresses in a manner that is\ndownright dishonest every circumstance that tells in Mary\u2019s favor. We\nhave no space to recapitulate here the numberless blunders and\nperversions of which he is convicted by Mr. Meline; but some of them\nare too ludicrous to be passed over. For instance, Mr. Froude finds it\nsuspicious that Mary should have \u201cpreferred to believe\u201d that she\nherself was the object of the lords\u2019 conspiracy, though a dispatch from\nParis had conveyed \u201ca message to her from Catharine de Medicis that\n_her husband\u2019s life was in danger_.\u201d The message was not from\nCatharine de Medicis, but from the Spanish ambassador in France, and\nwanted her to \u201ctake heed to herself,\u201d for there was \u201csome notable\nenterprise in hand against her.\u201d Not a word is said of her husband.\n\n9. It is again mentioned, as confirmation of her guilt, that \u201cshe sent\nfor none of the absent noblemen to protect her,\u201d and that \u201cMurray was\nwithin reach, but she did not seem to desire his presence.\u201d Now, Mr.\nFroude\u2019s own authorities show that Mary _did_ send for many of the\nabsent noblemen, and in particular that she twice sent for Murray, who\nwould not come.\n\n10. When Elizabeth sent Killigrew to Scotland to inquire into the\ncircumstances of the murder, _Murray_ (as Killigrew himself relates)\nentertained the English ambassador at dinner, and invited to meet him\nHuntly, Argyle, Bothwell, and Maitland--all of them among the\nmurderers of Darnley. This was strong circumstantial evidence of\nMurray\u2019s guilt. Mr. Froude accordingly (referring to Killigrew as his\nauthority) suppresses all mention of Murray, who gave the dinner and\npresided at it, and states that Killigrew \u201cwas entertained at dinner\nby the clique who had attended her [Mary] to Seton\u201d--thus implying\nthat Mary, instead of Murray, was in league with Bothwell and the\nothers to prevent his getting at the truth. The whole substance of\nKilligrew\u2019s letter is most outrageously misrepresented. Mr. Meline\ngives the original and the false version side by side.\n\nBut we must pause. We cannot follow Mr. Meline in his admirable\ndiscussion of the authenticity of the famous casket letters, or his\nexposure of the extraordinary misstatements with which Mr. Froude has     557\nloaded this portion of his book. With the question of the innocence of\nthe Queen of Scots, we are not now concerned. Our business is rather\nwith the innocence of the Queen of Scots\u2019 most notorious modern\naccuser. And whatever may be thought of the honesty of Mr. Froude\u2019s\nmotives, whether we decide that he blunders through sheer incapacity,\nor lies with malice aforethought, we believe candid students will\nadmit that his reputation as a historical writer has been utterly\nruined, and that his work will be remembered hereafter as a disastrous\nliterary failure.\n\n\n     [116] See Macaulay\u2019s _Essay on History_.\n\n     [117] _Mary, Queen of Scots, and her Latest English\n     Historian._ By James F. Meline. New York: The Catholic\n     Publication Society.\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n                          VENITE ADOREMUS.\n\n\nIt comes to us, as a messenger of peace and love, a memory of home, a\nvoice of the past, with the echo of unforgotten joys, and the\n_refrain_ of ever-silent sorrows; with the sacred thoughts of\nthat most touching feast, Christmas, of that most tender mystery, the\nInfant-God; with the human thoughts of friends gone from us and loved\nones far away--_Venite adoremus_!\n\nIt conjures up pictures before us of a happy, ignorant childhood,\npeaceful as a meadow-brook--a young life passed amid smiling hills,\nand fruitful vales, and woods where the honeysuckle twines round the\nold gnarled hawthorns, and the oak spreads its green, trembling tent\nover carpets of wild hyacinths. There, before the mind\u2019s eye, rises\nthe vision of a house, gray and picturesque, a broad, lovely terrace,\nand oriel windows looking down and beyond it into a sloping orchard.\nAt the back, leaning on the grassy bank, dotted by firs and elms,\nlilacs and guelder-rose, and fragrant syringa and gold-blooming\nlaburnum, stands a gaunt old tower, clad in dark purple-berried ivy--a\nghost tower, the haunt of mystery, overshadowing the little cloister\nand the tall, gray roof of the chapel. But it is winter, and I have\nbeen forgetting that the _Venite adoremus_ is a snow-flower of devotion,\na \u201cChristmas rose,\u201d not a red June rose, regal in its dusky, velvety\nmantle of richest, warmest color; for now we hear the chant of the\nholy Christmas song, and the tapers are lighted on the stone-carved\naltar, where, on each side of the niched reredos, white angels kneel\nwith their eternal torches, ever still, ever adoring, like some\nheavenly exile bound to earth\u2019s temples by a divine spell, of which\nart holds the key. Above, the Annunciation is blazoned forth on the\npictured window; but you cannot see it now, the night blots out its\nfairness. Angels, again, on the frescoed wall, bear scrolls, whose\nsilent voices chant a ceaseless _Gloria_ to the Babe in the\ntabernacle--_Laudamus te_, _Benedicimus te_, _Adoramus te_, _Glorificamus\nte_--and the rest of the narrow chapel is dark and voiceless, save\nwhere a taper glimmers on the desk of the little, humble harmonium,\nround which stand reverentially the few singers, whose only guerdon is\nthe smile of the unseen but not unfelt God. Dark and dusky red are\nthe hangings that tapestry the wall, bearing over their surface thick     558\ngrowths of the white fleur-de-lis; while above the simple benches of\nstained wood, at the back, rises a long, dark gallery. It was there I\nheard the first Midnight Mass I ever heard in my life.\n\n_Venite adoremus!_ It brings back visions of a mother\u2019s patient,\ndoting love; of a gathering of friends; of pleasant, hushed talk of\nghosts and spectres; of long, dark corridors, where the wind moaned\nlike a soul in pain; of oriel windows, many-paned, through which came\nthe distant sound of young owls hooting mournfully in the snow-covered\nplantations.\n\nHow kind a mother the church is! Are not all her feasts as many days\nof remembrances given to the past joys of home? Are they not a\nfaultless calendar of our hopes and fears for years past? When the\nchildren, with earnest, unsuspicious gravity, debated upon the\narrangements of the \u201ccrib,\u201d what excitement! what interest! When the\nparents and the old retainers closed one room in mysterious silence,\nand decorated the glittering Christmas-tree, what wonderment! what\nwhisperings!--and on the revelation, what delight! When piles of\nblankets and warm clothing were distributed among the poor, what\ncuriosity to see which child got the petticoat Eleanor hemmed, or the\njacket Frances put together!\n\nAll this is in the voice of the _Venite adoremus_ as it sounds faintly\nnow through a half-opened door, a Sunday surprise in a house hardly\ngiven to much solemnity--a house far away from the old gabled\nhomestead and the snow-veiled chapel-roof.\n\nBut it has other scenes to show, other memories to waken. It tells of\na Southern church, gaudy and bedizened, full of frivolous worshippers,\nwhose Christmas vigil has been kept in the ball-room they have\nhurriedly left to listen to the operatic orchestra preparing its\nmusical pyrotechnics for the dread moment of the Elevation. But pass\nwe on to more congenial remembrances. It tells of a simple,\nwhite-washed chamber, a prison-ward in the Holy City, where reclaimed\nand forgiven women are worshipping the divine Babe, who has wrought\ntheir salvation and sent them in their hour of need to the arms of his\nearthly angels, the Sisters of Mercy; it tells of a high dignitary of\nthe Vatican, leaving his purple magnificence to come among the city\nprisons, and spend with them a more edifying Christmas than the\ndisplay of the public churches promised his humble devotion. _Venite\nadoremus!_ It swells up in sweet woman-tones from some recess of\nfaithful memory, but the halls through which the hymn was borne that\nChristmas night echo only to the heavy tramp of the sentinel now, if\nnot to worse, the blasphemies of the ungodly trooper.\n\nIt brings the medi\u00e6val glories of St. Mark\u2019s to the mind of a lover of\nthat unique basilica--that petrified dream of the heavenly Jerusalem,\nwith its curious barbaric wealth, its golden mosaics, its Byzantine\nspoils of victories that were not merely the victories of civilization\nover decay, but the triumphs of faith over superstition. The glorious\nchurch is full, dark masses of human beings sway about its\nbroad-reaching nave, and here and there, like fire-flies, like\nheart-stars, shine the little _cerini_--the rope-like coils of wax,\nthe picturesque forerunners of garish gas-jets and dream-dispelling\ncoronas. The Mass in Venice is not a real Midnight Mass, however,\nsince, by special permission, it is celebrated at five o\u2019clock in the\nafternoon of the vigil. It is sad to hear profane music even in this\nconsecrated spot, whose dim, suggestive beauty seems to inherit the       559\nvague and solemn halo of the veiled lamps of the Holy of Holies in the\ntemple of Jerusalem; but corrupted taste certainly does reign in the\nVenetian basilica, and a Mass full of modern Italian _fioritura_ is\nannually performed in it at the festival of Christmas. Still, the mind\nsees beyond the unhappy aberrations of the modern Euterpe out into the\nlong vista of past centuries, when graver and nobler strains rang\nthrough the low-vaulted temple, and the stern and silent heads of the\nstate came in procession to grace the triumph of the new-born Saviour.\nFrom Venice to Geneva there is a wide gulf, but the _Venite adoremus_\nbridges over that.\n\nOnce again Christmas comes round, and the same world-wide chant rises\nin the now half-converted stronghold of Calvinism. It leads us towards\nthe older town, far from the noisy port hotels, into a winding\nlabyrinth of steep, ill-paved streets, through rows of old houses,\nevery one of which seems to have a history of its own, and whose\nold-fashioned windows, and wide portals opening into silent\ncourt-yards, remind one of time-worn parchment bindings round poems\nfor ever new. But is this analogy not a little true? for is not the\npoem of the human heart as old and as changeless as the ancient\nromances of long-dead bards, and yet do we ever tire of its\nrepetition, any more than we are weary of Chaucer and Shakespeare, of\nHomer and Virgil?\n\n_Venite adoremus!_ It lures us on to a dark church, dedicated to St.\nGermain, where there is nothing beautiful to strike the eye, nothing\nartistic to make the heart beat. Plain and even unsightly, tawdry and\nfaded, as all churches are whose history lies between the dreaded\npersecution of the sixteenth century and the Gothic revival of the\nnineteenth, St. Germain yet possesses that untold charm which the\nItalians so broadly but accurately describe by the word _simpatico_.\nSympathy! yes, that is it. It breathes on us from every corner; it is\nthe atmosphere of the little church; it softens every incongruity, and\nsweetly blinds us to every defect. After all, such churches,\ninartistic as they may be, are no unfit representatives of the church\nmilitant, while our glorious blossoms of stone, born of the Moses-like\nrod of Pugin, are types of the unfathomable beauty and jubilant repose\nof the church triumphant.\n\nIn this Midnight Mass at Geneva it was touching to see the crowds that\nflocked to the church through drifting snow and biting wind--real\nChristmas weather--and, without any attraction in the shape of noted\npreacher or imposing ceremonial, filled the church as full as the\ngenerous heart-blood does the bosom of the Christian martyr. Hundreds\nof silent worshippers were assembled there, and, when the last Gospel\nof the Mass had been said, the priests returned, in alb and stole, to\ngive communion to the eager congregation. Hardly one present seemed to\nhave left the church, and gradually the vast body of the faithful\nbroke, like successive waves, at the foot of the altar. For one whole\nhour was this scene enacting, and no music was heard meanwhile, and,\nthough few rules were enforced and little order reigned, yet the sight\nwas as widely suggestive as any more carefully arranged\ndemonstrations. Somehow these artless, unpremeditated outpourings of\nthe heart of Christendom have a far higher power to interest, a far\nsubtler charm to entrance, and leave a higher impression and a more\nhealthful influence behind, than those wonderful pageants which from      560\nyear to year draw thousands of curious spectators to Rome. Here is\neveryday Christianity; here is the inner working of that silent,\nGod-wielded mechanism whose outward robes and draperies only come to\nus in the shape of those glittering festas; here is the real work, the\nreal core of things, the heart whose pulsation alone gives meaning to\nall that external magnificence, the sun of which those ceremonies are\nthe radiance, the consuming fire of which that glorious ritual is but\nthe outgoing heat and the coruscant light. And when we think of the\ndarker and varied aspects, the inner complications of the lives of\nthose who were crowding round the altar-rails of St. Germain, what a\nwonderful, manifold history, what a spiritual landscape of infinite\nshades of the most delicate pencillings, do we not see! Side by side\nkneel souls whose life-paths run in opposite channels: here is Martha,\nthe busy household angel, whose faith is inwoven in her every daily\nmovement, her every thought, though it be of toil and anxiety; there\nis the pensive Magdalen, whose sadness is her soul\u2019s beauty, whose\nmemory brings before her even more tokens of merciful forgiveness and\nunwearied love than of her own little past, her sins and her\nhard-heartedness; there kneels the widow whose child has just been\ngiven back to her from the very portals of death, and whose only altar\nfor many dreary months has been the darkened chamber and the curtained\nsick-bed. Close to her is a maiden whose life is one long act of pure\npreparation for the bridal feast, the marriage supper of the Lamb, and\nwho, when next Christmas-chimes sound, will hear in them the glad\nknell that proclaims her death to the outside world, and her life-long\nvow of obedience to her Spouse. Here is a Monica, wrestling in prayer\nfor a wayward son whose hopeless lapse from the narrow path of virtue\nis the heaviest cross her Saviour could have chosen for her burden;\nthere again is the bride, kneeling by the side of the simple, joyous,\nboyish bridegroom, with whom she is just beginning a new stage on the\nroad to eternal bliss. So rough, so uniform, so commonplace is the\naspect of the crowd, that these things are only visible to spiritual\nsight, to the eye of the soul; and, if visible even to our darkened\norgans of spiritual understanding, how much more clearly and far more\ntouchingly to the eye of eternal Wisdom and fathomless Love! What a\nrose-garden is a church full of humble communicants before the sight\nof God! How fragrant and varied the blossoms to his illumined\nperception! Men in every stage of conversion--those who have just\ntimidly set their foot on the first round of Jacob\u2019s mystic ladder;\nthose who have struggled so far that they can dare to look down one\nmoment, and measure the death from which God\u2019s love has raised them,\nin order to gain additional grace to correspond with his future and\nmore rapid calls heavenward; those who have left all sin and danger so\nfar behind that they look upon them calmly, as one sees the rolling\nclouds far below from the crisp-breathing atmosphere of the highest\nmountains; those whose conversation is in heaven, and whose thoughts\nare silent angels walking ever with them as the living messengers of\nGod. Such are the miracles of grace that crowd the lowly church; the\nmysteries that we can only guess at beneath the crust of materiality\nwhich we see; the wonders that jostle us in the swaying throng, and of\nwhich we have so little knowledge that we hardly even suspect what\nangel\u2019s robe has swept past our own garments a moment ago.                561\n\nAnd as this scene fades away, while the silence is again broken by the\nsweet song of home, _Venite adoremus!_ we see another and a last\npicture dawning from the gray mist of memory.\n\nNot far from the old home where the first Midnight Mass of our\nchildhood entranced our imagination is another house--a home, too, in\nsome sense, yet not the home that the mother hallowed in the dear,\nolden days, for now she is only present in the spirit, and she never\neven saw the first Christmas snows in this new and stately hall.\n\nBut a church, fair and carven, stands above her grave, and her loving\nheart is the first stone, the foundation-stone of the new shrine.\nClose above her resting-place is the altar, and close below, the\norgan. There Christmas is enthroned again, the _Venite adoremus_ echoes\nonce more through wreathed arches and festooned pillars; there again a\nsmall household and a few newly-converted children of the faith of old\nEngland kneel in silent prayer, and mingle thoughts of the foundress\nof the church with those of the new-born King whose praises, whose\n_Gloria_, she is now singing in heaven. Thus the soul-stirring Christmas\nhymn links the past with the present, the memories of foreign lands\nwith the dear thoughts of home, and binds them together as a sheaf of\ngolden straw to lay in the crib of the Babe of Bethlehem.\n\n_Venite adoremus!_ It has been sung to our infancy when the nurse\nrocked the cradle where slept the first-born; it has cheered our early\nchildhood when the young mother-voice taught it to us at the Christmas\nfireside; it has thrilled our heart in youth when, far from the old\nhome, we have listened to its solemn, familiar strains; it will stir a\nchord of memory through each succeeding year as our early associations\ngrow dim and our path waxes more lonely; it will breathe a sweet\nfarewell and echo in our ears on our very deathbed, linking the\nthought of our first earthly home to that of our expected eternal one\nin the bosom of our Jesus and the arms of our new-found, glorified\nMother.\n\nThose who are dear to us on earth, those who grew up round the same\nhearth, and knelt peacefully at the same father\u2019s knee, and held his\nhand the day the mother-angel winged her way to her God, can never\nforget the _Venite adoremus_, the Christmas pledge of undying love\nand indissoluble union, which they learned and sang together for long,\nlong years of joy, nor can they dream that, however far apart, that\nhymn does not make the heart beat and the eye grow dim with tears even\nas in the days of old; while--O happier thought even than that!--they\nnever can forget that as on earth, so will it be hereafter, that the\ncrown of song will lack no jewel, will miss no note, of _all_ that\nonce were in it, and that for ever and for ever _one_ will be the\nundiminished chorus of father and mother, brethren and sisters, in the\nhalls of the \u201cEverlasting Christmas.\u201d _Venite Adoremus! venite\nadoremus Dominum!_\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n      MR. CLARKE\u2019s LIVES OF THE AMERICAN CATHOLIC BISHOPS.[118]           562\n\n    \u201cLike stars to their appointed heights they climb.\u201d--SHELLEY.\n\n\nThe remark had become trite in the mouths of Europeans, that America\nhas no history. Such was the inertness of our countrymen in the\ndepartment of American history; such the want of works recounting the\nthrilling story of early adventure and colonization, the struggles of\nfeeble colonies for existence and permanence, their long and steadfast\npreservation of free institutions inherited from the mother-country,\nand their gallantry in defending them against an unnatural mother; the\nbirth and growth of a vast and mighty republic, maintaining at once\norder and liberty amid the convulsions and revolutions of European\ndynasties and empires, and eliciting from a European monarch, whose\ncrown was afterwards torn from his head, the remark addressed to an\nAmerican Catholic bishop, who told him of free and peaceful America,\n\u201cTruly, that people at least understand liberty; when will it be\nunderstood among us?\u201d--all these things remained so long an untold\nstory, that it was believed but too generally that America was without\na history to record. The subsequent works of Bancroft, Irving,\nPrescott, Parkman, and others have pretty effectually dispelled the\ndelusion.\n\nBut it seems to have been equally thought, among the historians of the\nchurch, that her career in America was also devoid of historical\ninterest, so few and meagre were our published records and histories.\nIn the general histories of the church, such as that by Darras,\ncommencing with the earliest ages, and coming down to our own times,\nwith but slight general allusions to America, no mention whatever is\nmade of the rise and progress of the church in the United States. In\nthe American edition of Darras, there is an Appendix, written for the\npurpose by an American author, Rev. Charles I. White, D.D., giving a\n_Sketch of the Origin and Progress of the Catholic Church in the\nUnited States of America_, and intended to supply, in some measure, the\nomission.\n\nIn our article on Bishop Timon, in THE CATHOLIC WORLD of April, 1871,\nwe remarked: \u201cSketches of local church history, more or less complete,\nhave occasionally appeared--sketches, for instance, like _The Catholic\nChurch in the United States_, by De Courcy and Shea; and Shea\u2019s _History\nof the Catholic Missions_ among the Indian tribes of America, and\nBishop Bayley\u2019s little volume on the history of the church in New York.\nBut a work of a different kind, broader in its design than some of these\nexcellent and useful publications, more limited in scope than the dry and\ncostly general histories, still awaits the hand of a polished and\nenthusiastic man of letters.\u201d\n\nWhen we penned these lines, though we knew of Mr. Clarke\u2019s long-continued\nand unwearied labors in that department of American Catholic              563\nliterature, had cheered at times his earnest and faithful studies, and\nhad, by his kindness, been able to spread before our readers some of his\ninteresting and admirably prepared biographical papers, such as the\n_Life of Governor Dongan of New York_, in THE CATHOLIC WORLD of\nSeptember, 1869, and the _Memoir of Father Br\u00e9beuf, S.J._, in the July\nand August numbers, 1871, still we scarcely hoped that we should see\nour desires so soon realized, or that we should so soon have occasion\nto hail the appearance of the splendid work now before us, the fruits\nof his accomplished pen and energetic industry, in the two handsomely\nprinted and elegantly bound volumes, _The Lives of the Deceased Bishops\nof the Catholic Church in the United States_. The production of such\na work, prepared during the broken and fleeting moments of leisure\nsnatched from a life devoted to professional duties, and to an active\nparticipation in the Catholic and public-spirited enterprises of our\nbusy metropolis, is something for which we, as a Catholic journalist\ndevoted to literature, may be permitted to express our own thanks, and\nthose of the Catholic community, and at the same time to commend it as\nan instance of successful literary toil in a rich but uncultivated\nfield, and as, what we hope and believe it will be, a reward for long\nand painstaking researches, careful collation, and fine literary\nstudy. There were but few published works, as we have remarked, from\nwhich to draw the facts and information necessary for such a book.\nHence the author had to seek, in a great measure, his materials from\nthe archives of the various dioceses, the unpublished correspondence\nand journals of the deceased prelates, their pastoral letters and\naddresses, from the Catholic serial publications and newspapers of the\nlast half-century (a task of great and protracted labor and fatigue),\nfrom the personal recollections of surviving friends, co-laborers, and\ncolleagues of the bishops, from family records, from his own\ncorrespondence with numerous witnesses of the growth of the church and\nof the labors of our apostolic men, and even from the silent but\nsacred marble records of the tomb. The frequency with which the author\ncites, among his _authorities_, unpublished documents and original\nsources of information, which were in many cases the individual\nnarratives of living witnesses, committed to writing at his request,\nand for this work, is a proof of the industry and labor with which\nthis work has been prepared, and give us the means of appreciating the\nservices thus rendered to our American Catholic literature, in\nsecuring and preserving from decay, oblivion, or total loss many\nvaluable but perishable traditions and documentary materials. We will\nrefer to two only, among many instances throughout these richly stored\npages, of valuable documents thus given to the public; these are the\nroyal charter of King James II., guaranteeing liberty of conscience to\nthe Catholics of Virginia in 1686, and the beautiful and touching\nletter addressed by Archbishop Carroll, in 1791, to the Catholic\nIndians of Maine, the remnants of the pious and faithful flock of the\nillustrious and martyred Rale--for the publication of both of which we\nare indebted to Mr. Clarke.\n\nMr. Clarke has devoted many years to these valuable and excellent\nstudies and compositions, and those who have read our Catholic\nperiodical literature during the last fifteen years, will remember his\n_Memoirs_ of Archbishops Carroll and Neale, of Bishops Cheverus and\nFlaget, of the Rev. Prince Demetrius Augustine Gallitzin, of Fathers      564\nAndrew White and Nerinckx, of Governor Leonard Calvert, Charles\nCarroll of Carrollton, Commodore John Barry, the father of the\nAmerican navy, and Judge Gaston; which were published in 1856 and 1857\nin _The Metropolitan_ of Baltimore. The favor with which these papers\nwere received at the time, and the earnest recommendations of\nprelates, priests, and laymen, have, as we have learned, induced the\nauthor to enlarge his plans and undertake a series of works, which\nwill give the American Church a complete biography of ecclesiastics\nand laymen, and, at the same time, literary monuments of classic taste\nand scholarship. The present book of the prelates will, as we rejoice\nto learn, be followed by the second work of the course, containing the\nlives of the missionaries of our country, such as White of Maryland,\nMarquette, Jogues, and Br\u00e9beuf of New York, Rale of Maine, the\nmissionaries of the Mississippi Valley, of distinguished priests in\nlater times, and of the founders of our religious houses, male and\nfemale. The remaining work of the series, more interesting probably\nthan even the preceding ones, because not the least attempt has so far\nbeen made in that direction, will contain the lives of distinguished\nCatholic laymen, who have rendered signal services to our country,\nsuch as Calvert, Carroll, and Taney of Maryland, Iberville of\nLouisiana, Dongan of New York, La Salle and Tonty, explorers of the\nMississippi River, Barry of Pennsylvania, Vincennes of Indiana, Gaston\nof North Carolina, and many others. The whole will form a complete\nseries of Catholic biographical works, issued in the appropriate order\nof bishops first, priests and religious second, and finally of\nstatesmen, captains, explorers, and jurists. We cannot withhold the\nexpression of our pleasure at the prospect of results such as these in\na department of literature which it has ever been one of the objects\nof THE CATHOLIC WORLD to encourage, promote, and cherish.\n\nThat valuable materials exist in the country for all of these important\nworks, we feel quite sure. We hope care will be taken of them and that\nthey will be freely placed at the service of our Catholic historians\nand authors. Their publication would be the best means of preserving\nthem, while rendering them useful to the present generation. We will\ngive an incident in the experience of Mr. Clarke, in preparing his\n_Lives of the Bishops_, related by him to us, as an evidence of the\ndanger to which valuable historical matter is constantly exposed of\nbeing lost and destroyed. He applied, in one instance, to the\ncustodians of the papers relating to the Catholic history of an\nimportant diocese and state, and was informed that the diocesan papers\nand documents had been for many years locked up in a strong chest or\nsafe, before and for some time after the death of the first bishop,\nand, on being opened and examined, they were found to be in a state of\ncomplete decay from the damp, fell to pieces when handled, and that\nscarcely a line of the writing was legible. Other cases are related of\nvaluable materials for American Catholic history lost or sent out of\nthe country. We observe, in the first volume before us, a new and\nappropriate feature--a distinct and separate return of thanks by the\nauthor to a long list of prelates, priests, and laymen who have\nsupplied him with materials or aided him in his labors. The appeal he\nmakes, in his preface, for the assistance of such as possess materials,\nhas our cordial sympathy; and we hope the appeal will not be made in      565\nvain.\n\nThe book of prelates, whose appearance we now hail with so much\npleasure, is the most important and valuable contribution yet made to\nour American Catholic biographical literature. It covers the ground of\nour entire church history to the most recent times, possesses the\npeculiar interest which attaches to personal and individual narrative,\nand is free, as we have said, from the dryness of the general history.\nIts pages teem with an ardent love of country and of our American\ninstitutions, and with a devotion to true liberty, which well accord\nwith the traditions and education of one of the descendants of the\nCatholic pilgrims of Maryland, who constitute the theme of an honored\nchapter in our history, illustrating the magnanimity of a dominant\nCatholic majority in times when toleration was not the fashion, the\nharmony between Catholicity and liberty, and an unflinching faith\nthrough generations of Protestant persecution. Praise is freely\nbestowed, where praise was due, to our country and to our countrymen;\nand reproof is administered in the spirit of true affection, whenever\nthere are errors or abuses to be corrected, or where there is\nconflict, in the civil or political order, with the sacred rights of\nreligion and of conscience.\n\nThe antiquity of the Catholic Church in America, her struggles and\ntriumphs, are well worthy of the study of all. Her struggles have ever\nbeen against vice and error, and in favor of liberty and virtue. Her\ntriumphs have been the conquest of souls for heaven. No impartial mind\ncan study the career of the Catholic Church in the United States\nwithout being convinced of the purity of her motives, and the\nsacredness of her aims. Her conservatism, her sacraments, her defence\nof Christian marriage, her labors for religious education, her\nchastening influence over the consciences of her children, of which\nevery day\u2019s record affords examples, her maintenance of law and order,\nhave made her in the past, what they will prove in the future, the\nmainstay of society, of liberty, and of the republic. Her growth in\nour midst has been the work of Providence, not of man; a growth which,\nas our author shows, has proportionately far outstripped that of the\nrepublic. While the country has increased from thirteen states to\nthirty-seven states and eleven territories in ninety-five years, the\nchurch has increased from one bishopric to sixty-four bishoprics, six\nvicariates apostolic, and four mitred abbots in eighty-one years. The\npopulation of the country has increased from 2,803,000 to about\n40,000,000, while the children of the Catholic Church have increased\nfrom 25,000 to 5,500,000. The increase of the general population of\nthe country has been 1,433 per centum in ninety-five years, and that\nof the church has been 22,000 per centum in eighty-one years. The\nCatholic clergy have increased from twenty-one priests in 1790 to\nabout four thousand eight hundred priests in 1871; they dispense the\nblessings of religion in 4,250 churches and 1,700 chapels.\n\nAfter giving these statistics, the preface proceeds thus:\n\n     \u201cTo Rome, the capital of the Christian world, Eternal City,\n     destined in our hopes and prayers and faith to be restored to us\n     again as the free and undesecrated Mistress and Ruler of\n     Churches, and to the Sovereign Pontiffs therein, Vicars of Christ\n     on earth, we turn with love and gratitude for the care,\n     solicitude, and support bestowed upon our churches, and for the\n     exemplary prelates bestowed upon them by the Chief Bishop of the\n     church. To our venerable hierarchy, bishops and priests, and         566\n     to the religious orders, both male and female, we render thanks\n     for their labors, their sacrifices, their sufferings, and their\n     suffrages.\n\n     \u201cTo our prelates, especially, is due under God the splendid\n     result we have but faintly mentioned. They were the founders of\n     our churches, the pioneers of the faith, and the chief pastors of\n     our flocks. In poverty and suffering they commenced the work, and\n     spent themselves for others. A diocese just erected upon the\n     frontiers, in the midst of a new and swarming population, to\n     anticipate and save the coming faithful, the hope of a future\n     flock, an outpost upon the borders of Christianity and\n     civilization--such was the frequent work and vigilant foresight\n     of the Propaganda and of the Councils of Baltimore--such the\n     charge confided to a newly consecrated bishop. To the religious\n     enterprise and untiring providence of the Catholic Church, in her\n     prompt and vigorous measures for the extension of the faith in\n     this country, may well be applied the striking lines of Milton:\n\n                \u2018Zeal and duty are not slow;\n          But on occasion\u2019s forelock watchful wait.\u2019\n                                               --_Paradise Regained._\n\n     \u201cTo assume the task of creating, as it were, building up, and\n     governing the infant churches thus confided to their care, was\n     the work that was faithfully and zealously performed by our\n     bishops. It was no uncommon thing for a bishop to be sent to a\n     diocese where there was scarcely a shrine or a priest; where he\n     not only had no friends or organized flock to receive him, but\n     where he had not even an acquaintance; where he would not meet a\n     face that he had ever seen before. In some instances, he had to\n     enter a diocese rent with disunion or schism among the people; in\n     others, he was compelled to reside out of the episcopal city by\n     reason of disaffection prevailing within. In other cases, such\n     was their poverty that they had not the necessary means to\n     procure an episcopal outfit, to provide a pectoral cross and\n     crosier, or to pay their travelling expenses to their dioceses.\n     In many cases the humble log-cabins of the West were their\n     episcopal palaces and cathedrals; and frequently church,\n     episcopal residence, parish school, and theological seminary were\n     all under the same contracted roof. In the midst of such\n     difficulties, we behold examples of humility, patience,\n     cheerfulness, zeal, charity, love, poverty, and untiring labor. A\n     study of such examples, and of lives so good, so heroic, has led\n     us to undertake the work now presented to the public, in order to\n     repeat and continue their holy influences, to preserve the memory\n     of such deeds, to render a tribute to those honored names, and to\n     rescue, as far as we could, our Catholic traditions from oblivion\n     or total loss. We applied to ourself, and yielded to the spirit\n     of, the poet\u2019s appeal:\n\n         \u2018Spread out earth\u2019s holiest records here,\n          Of days and deeds to reverence dear;\n          A zeal like this what pious legends tell?\u2019\u201d\n\nThe two volumes contain the lives of fifty-six American bishops, and\nto the second volume is affixed an appendix containing the lives of\nthree prelates of other countries, who have a special connection with\nthe American Church. The first volume, to which we will confine our\npresent writing, contains the lives of twenty-nine prelates, a list of\nwhom, with the dates of their consecration or appointment, and the\nreligious orders to which they belonged, where such was the case, will\nin itself prove interesting.\n\nThe antiquity of our church in America is strikingly illustrated in\nthis volume--an antiquity equal to that of the church in some of the\nold countries of Europe, extending back to the ages of faith, when the\nchurch was fighting her battles with paganism, and before the time\nwhen altar was raised up against altar by the Protestantism of the\nsixteenth century, and before the more modern phases of infidelity and\ncommunism had declared war against all altars and all religion. In the\ntenth, eleventh, and twelfth centuries, the Northmen of Iceland, hardy\nadventurers on the seas, pushed their exploits beyond the continent of\nEurope, and landed colonies on the shores of this continent. Coming\nfrom their ice-clad homes, our extreme north-eastern regions were to\nthem a country of enchanting verdure, and received the name of            567\nGreenland; and, pushing their cruises farther south, they entered our\nown Narragansett Bay, where, seeing the country festooned with vines\nteeming with grapes, they called it Vinland. Our poet Longfellow,\naptly quoted by Mr. Clarke, has celebrated some of the exploits of\nVikings and Northmen on sea and shore. They were the freebooters and\nhighwaymen of the ocean;\n\n         \u201cJoining the corsair\u2019s crew.\n          O\u2019er the dark sea I flew\n            With the marauders;\n          Wild was the life we led,\n          Many the souls that sped.\n          Many the hearts that bled,\n            By our stern orders.\u201d\n\nAt the time of which the poet sings, both Iceland and Greenland were\npagan. The mother-country owed her conversion to missionaries from\nIreland, and she, in turn, sent out devoted priests, who converted her\ncolonists in Greenland and Vinland to the faith. Convents and churches\narose and resounded with the praises of God, chanted in Latin hymns\nthree centuries and a half before Columbus discovered America.\nPre-eminent among the Catholic missionaries was Eric, who, in the\nbeginning of the twelfth century, commenced his exalted labors at\nGreenland, and afterwards particularly along the banks of Narragansett\nBay. The site of the present city of Newport and its vicinity were the\nvirgin fields of his apostolic labors. So important did these\nChristian colonies become, that a bishopric was erected at Garda, the\nepiscopal city of Greenland, and Eric was consecrated its first bishop\nby Lund, a bishop of Scandinavia. He visited again his cherished flock\nat Vinland, to whom he was devoted, and, rather than leave them, he\nresigned his mitre and crosier, went into the ranks of the clergy, and\ngave his life for his flock--the first of American martyrs.\n\nThe colonies of the Northmen were swept away, and the record of them,\neven, faded from the histories and traditions of mankind.\n\n         \u201cI was a Viking old:\n          My deeds, though manifold,\n          No skald in song has told,\n          No saga taught thee.\u201d\n\nA glowing tribute is paid by the author to the Catholic faith and\ngenius of Columbus, the unrivalled discoverer of America. In the very\ngeneration in which Columbus lived, the church established a bishopric\nwithin the present limits of our republic. Among the ambitious and\nhardy captains of that day was Pamphilo de Narvaez, who, in attempting\nthe conquest of Florida, aspired to add to the Spanish crown a realm\nequal in extent and wealth to Mexico, and to rival the fame of Cort\u00e9z\nby his own exploits. The Franciscans were at his side, seeking a\nholier conquest, fired by no earthly ambition, but by a heavenly zeal.\nA bishopric was erected for Florida as the expedition was about to\nsail from the ports of Spain, and Juan Juarez, who had already won the\ntitle of one of the Twelve Apostles of Mexico, was appointed, in 1526,\nBishop of Rio de las Palmes. He spent his brief sojourn in Spain in\nsecuring ample provision for his future flock, and in obtaining royal\nguarantees for the liberty and kind treatment of the natives. No time\nwas left for his consecration; he hastened on board the fleet, and\nrushed to the spiritual relief of his children, whom he knew and\n\u201cloved only in Christ.\u201d After the disastrous termination of the\nexpedition, he and his companions suffered shipwreck, and are believed\nto have perished of hunger--the second martyr of our church. Well has\nour author said of him, that he gave up his own life that he might        568\nbestow upon others life eternal; and that he who died of hunger for\nGod\u2019s sake was greatly rewarded by that same God with celestial\nfeasts, and replenished with seraphic delights; and has aptly applied\nto him those beautiful words of the Canticle:\n\n          \u201cEsurientes implevit Bonis.\u201d\n\nWe have dwelt briefly, but with particular pleasure, upon these the\nfirst two lives of the volume, because of their peculiar interest and\nbeauty, but they must be read at length in the work itself to be duly\nappreciated. We rejoice that they have now been rendered a classic\nstory in our language--an enduring monument in our literature.\n\nWe had marked out several extracts from the interesting and important\nlife of Archbishop Carroll, and from the lives of other eminent\nprelates, for insertion, but the want of time and space deprives us\nand our readers of this pleasure. We reserve the remaining space\nallotted to this article for three extracts, the first of which is the\nhistorical sketch given by Mr. Clarke of an event which reflects\nuntold honor and glory upon the American Catholic episcopate. The\nhonor and merit of originating the Society for the Propagation of the\nFaith, which has ever since been and is now spreading the Gospel\nthroughout the world, is due to an American prelate. Bishop Dubourg,\nof New Orleans, is the recognized founder of that illustrious society.\nAnd now we will let the author speak for himself:\n\n     \u201cThe most brilliant and fruitful service rendered by Bishop\n     Dubourg to the church, not only in America, but throughout the\n     most remote and unenlightened portions of the world, was the\n     leading part he took in founding the illustrious \u2018Association for\n     the Propagation of the Faith.\u2019 It has been well said that \u2018the\n     establishment which M. Dubourg, while on his return to Louisiana\n     from Italy, made at Lyons, is of itself enough to immortalize his\n     name. He there formed, in 1815, the Association for the\n     Propagation of the Faith. This single institution, which conveys\n     benedictions unnumbered to millions, and which daily sounds the\n     glad tidings of a Saviour to those who are seated in the silence\n     of death, becomes a monument sufficient to eternize the memory of\n     Dubourg, and to shed a full ray of brightness on any college\n     associated with his name.\u2019\u201d\n\nThe following extract, from the _Life of Archbishop Eccleston of\nBaltimore_, relates to interesting and stirring events in the life\nof our Holy Father, Pius IX., and the history of our country and\nchurch, which are made to reflect upon events transpiring in our own\ntimes:\n\n     \u201cThe adjournment of the Sixth Council was soon followed by the\n     death of Pope Gregory XVI. and the election of Pope Pius IX. The\n     remarkable events that ensued are a part of the history of our\n     age. Loud, long, and enthusiastic were the plaudits that greeted\n     the first acts of the noble and saintly Pius IX. from every\n     portion of the world, and especially from the United States.\n     Popular meetings in the principal cities sent the most respectful\n     and laudatory addresses to the Holy Father, and Congress sent a\n     minister to congratulate him on his course and to reside at his\n     court. It seemed as though the Protestant world were prepared to\n     hail the return of the glorious ages of faith, when the Sovereign\n     Pontiff was the universally recognized Father and arbiter of the\n     Christian world. The loyalty of Catholics was manifested by the\n     obedience of their souls and submission of their hearts to him\n     whom they recognized as the Vicar of Christ on earth. To their\n     Protestant fellow-citizens was left the work of giving utterance\n     to the public voice of congratulation and praise. The address of\n     a public meeting held in New York by six thousand persons, and\n     presided over by the mayor, contained the following remarkable\n     passage:\n\n     \u201c\u2018And more formidable than all these, you must have girded\n     yourself to encounter, and by God\u2019s help to overcome, that           569\n     fickleness and ingratitude of multitudes just released from\n     benumbing bondage, which could clamor in the wilderness to be led\n     back to the flesh-pots of Egypt; which, among the contemporaries\n     and even the followers of our Saviour, could leave him to bear in\n     solitude the agony of the cross; and which in your case, we\n     apprehend, will yet manifest itself in unreasonable expectations,\n     extravagant hopes, impetuous requirements, and in murmurings that\n     nothing has been earnestly intended, because everything has not\n     been already accomplished.\n\n     \u201cThe address of the Philadelphia meeting, held January 10, 1848,\n     contained the following earnest words: \u2018May the Almighty grant\n     you length of life, strength of heart, and wisdom from on high,\n     in order to bring to a happy conclusion the beneficent reforms\n     which you have begun! May he inspire the princes and people of\n     Italy with the courage and moderation necessary to second your\n     efforts! May he raise up to you successors, who will continue to\n     extend the influence of peace and justice on earth; and the time\n     will come when the meanest of God\u2019s poor will, if oppressed, be\n     able to summon the most powerful of his oppressors to appear at\n     the bar of united Christendom; and the nations will sit in\n     judgment upon him, and the oppressor, blushing with shame, shall\n     be forced by their unanimous and indignant voice to render\n     justice to the oppressed.\u2019\n\n     \u201cSimilar addresses were sent from nearly every city of any\n     importance in the Union to the Holy Father. But soon the\n     prophetic language of the New York meeting was realized; the\n     clamor of the disappointed populace was raised against their\n     father and best friend; Count Rossi, his secretary, is\n     assassinated, and the Holy Father himself is a fugitive from\n     Rome. It was then that the devotion of Catholics manifested\n     itself towards the Supreme Pontiff, and many and heartfelt were\n     the testimonials of loyalty and affection received by the exile\n     of Gaeta from his children throughout the world. The Catholics of\n     the United States were not behind their brethren in these\n     demonstrations, and the hope was entertained that the Holy Father\n     would accept an asylum in our midst.... How vividly do the\n     present wrongs of that same Holy Father, and of that same holy\n     church, recall the events of his glorious pontificate! When, oh!\n     when, will the Catholic peoples of the world demand of their\n     governments the restoration of the capital of Christendom, and\n     the liberty of the Vicar of Christ?\u201d\n\nAs we were about to close our article, our eye fell upon the following\nfine passages in the _Life of Dr. England, First Bishop of\nCharleston_, and we yield to the temptation of transferring them to\nour columns, both as a tribute to that illustrious prelate and as\nspecimens of Mr. Clarke\u2019s style:\n\n     \u201cThe great struggle of Bishop England\u2019s life in this country\n     seems to have been to present the Catholic Church, her doctrines\n     and practices, in their true light before the American people. In\n     his effort to do this his labors were indefatigable. His means of\n     accomplishing this end were various and well studied. He\n     endeavored, from his arrival in the country, to identify himself\n     thoroughly with its people, its institutions, its hopes, and its\n     future. He was vigilant and spirited in maintaining and defending\n     the honor and integrity of the country, as he was in upholding\n     the doctrines and practices of the church. In his oration on the\n     character of Washington, he so thoroughly enters into the\n     sentiments of our people, and participates so unreservedly in the\n     pride felt by the country in the _Pater Patri\u00e6_, that his\n     language would seem to be that of a native of the country. There\n     was no movement for the public good in which he did not feel an\n     interest, and which he did not, to the extent of his\n     opportunities, endeavor to promote. His admiration for the\n     institutions of the country was sincere and unaffected. Though no\n     one encountered more prejudice and greater difficulties than he\n     did, he, on all occasions, as he did in his address before\n     Congress, endeavored to regard the prejudices and impressions\n     entertained by Protestants against Catholics as errors, which had\n     been impressed upon their minds by education and associations,\n     for which they themselves were not responsible. In his writings\n     and public sermons and addresses, he travelled over the wide\n     range of history, theology, and the arts, in order to vindicate\n     the spotless spouse of Christ against the calumnies of her\n     enemies. If Catholic citizens and voters were attacked on the        570\n     score of their fidelity to their country and its institutions,\n     Bishop England\u2019s ready pen defended them from the calumny and\n     silenced their accusers. If a Catholic judge or public officer\n     was accused of false swearing or mental reservation in taking the\n     official oath, he found an irresistible and unanswerable champion\n     in the Bishop of Charleston. He found the church in the United\n     States comparatively defenceless on his accession to the See of\n     Charleston, but he soon rendered it a dangerous task in her\n     enemies to attack or vilify her; and many who ventured on this\n     mode of warfare were glad to retreat from the field, before the\n     crushing weapons of logic, erudition, and eloquence with which he\n     battled for his church, his creed, and his people....\n\n     \u201cBishop England visited Europe four times during his episcopacy,\n     for the interests and institutions of his diocese, visiting Rome,\n     most of the European countries, and his native Ireland, which he\n     never ceased to love. He was sent twice as apostolic delegate\n     from the Holy See to Hayti. He obtained from Europe vast\n     assistance for his diocese, both in priests, female religious,\n     and funds. It was proposed to translate him to the bishopric of\n     Ossory in Ireland, but he declined. The highest ecclesiastical\n     dignity, with comfort, luxury, friends, and ease, in his native\n     country, could not tempt him to desert his beloved church in\n     America. He had become an American citizen and an American\n     prelate, and he resolved to continue to be both as long as he\n     lived. At Rome he was consulted on all matters relating to the\n     ecclesiastical affairs of this country. The officials of the\n     Eternal City were astounded at the great travels and labors of\n     Bishop England. They heard him appoint from the Chambers of the\n     Propaganda the very day on which he would administer confirmation\n     in the interior of Georgia. The cardinals, in their wonder at all\n     he accomplished, and the rapidity of his movements, used to call\n     him \u2018_il vescovo a vapore_,\u2019 or the \u2018steam bishop.\u2019 We have\n     seen with what an insignificant force he commenced his episcopal\n     labors. He increased the churches of his diocese to over sixteen,\n     and lef behind him a well-organized and appointed clergy, and\n     numerous ecclesiastical, religious, educational, and charitable\n     institutions. The Catholic families of his diocese might have\n     been counted, at the time of the erection of the See of\n     Charleston, on one\u2019s fingers; at the bishop\u2019s death they were\n     counted by thousands. But the good he accomplished was not\n     confined to his own diocese. His elevating and encouraging\n     influence was felt throughout this country, at Rome, and in many\n     parts of the Catholic world.\u201d\n\nHis dying words to his clergy, and through them to his flock, were as\nfollows:\n\n     \u201cTell my people that I love them; tell them how much I regret\n     that circumstances have kept us at a distance from each other. My\n     duties and my difficulties have prevented me from cultivating and\n     strengthening those private ties which ought to bind us together;\n     _your_ functions require a closer, a more constant intercourse\n     with them. Be with them--be of them--win them to God. Guide,\n     govern, and instruct them. _Watch as having to render an account\n     of their souls, that you may do it with joy, and not with\n     grief._ There are among you several infant institutions which\n     you are called on, in an especial manner, to sustain. It hast\n     cost me a great deal of thought and of labor to introduce them.\n     They are calculated to be eminently serviceable to the cause of\n     order, of education, of charity; they constitute the germ of\n     what, I trust, shall hereafter grow and flourish in extensive\n     usefulness. As yet they are feeble, support them--embarrassed,\n     encourage them--they will be afflicted, console them.\n\n     \u201c_I commend my poor church to its patrons--especially to her to\n     whom our Saviour confided his in the person of the beloved\n     disciple: \u2018Woman, behold thy Son; Son, behold thy mother.\u2019_\u201d\n\nThe second volume contains the lives of thirty American bishops, and,\nin the Appendix, the lives of Right Rev. Charles Augustus de\nForbin-Jansen, Bishop of Nancy, France, who visited this country in\n1840, and rendered signal services to religion while here; of Right\nRev. Edward Barron, who volunteered from this country for the African\nmission, was made Bishop of Africa in 1845, and died at Savannah,\nGeorgia, in 1854, \u201ca martyr of charity\u201d; and of Cardinal Bedini, whose    571\nvisit to this country is in the recollection of our readers.\n\nWe cannot close our notice without again commending, in the most\nemphatic manner, this record of the labors of the self-denying\nprelates who were the means, under God, of planting the church in our\nbeloved country--not only for its historical interest, and as an\naddition to our permanent Catholic literature, but for the incentive\nit furnishes to others, both cleric and lay, in their several spheres,\nto be unremitting in their efforts to extend the faith, thus happily\ntransferred to our soil, to every nook and corner of this favored land.\n\n\n     [118] _Lives of the Deceased Bishops of the Catholic Church\n     in the United States, with an Appendix and an Analytical\n     Index._ By Richard H. Clarke, A.M. In two vols. Vol. I.\n     New York: P. O\u2019shea. 1871.\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n                         NEW PUBLICATIONS.\n\n\n  THE VICAR OF CHRIST; or, Lectures upon the Office and Prerogatives\n    of our Holy Father the Pope. By Rev. Thomas S. Preston, Pastor of\n    St. Ann\u2019s Church, New York, and Chancellor of the Diocese. New York:\n    Robert Coddington, No. 366 Bowery. 1871.\n\nWe have here another series of the excellent Advent Lectures of F.\nPreston, which have done so much good in the instruction of the\nfaithful and the conversion of numbers of persons to the true faith.\nCarefully prepared and solid discourses on the great Catholic\nprinciples, dogmas, doctrines, laws, and rites--in fact, on all the\ntopics of religion universally--are especially necessary and useful in\nour time and country. Besides the additional good accruing to that\nwhich has been done by the preaching of these discourses through their\nmore general dissemination among the laity, their publication is a\ngreat benefit to the clergy, as giving examples of the best kind of\npreaching, and furnishing a stimulus and a help to efforts of the same\nkind.\n\nThe present series of lectures on the Pope is fully equal to the\nformer publications of the author in ability and excellence, if not\nsuperior to them. The subject, at any rate, makes it far the most\ninteresting and important of any. F. Preston has merited well of the\nchurch by his zealous and efficient devotion to the cause of the Pope\nand the Holy See, and his continual efforts to instruct the Catholic\nlaity in sound doctrine in this most essential matter. In this volume\nhe has given us a lecture on the supremacy, another on the Papal\ninfallibility, a third on the temporal sovereignty, and a fourth on\nthe Pontificate of Pius IX. At the end, the decrees or constitutions\nof the Vatican Council and several recent allocutions of the Holy\nFather are given in Latin and English; and the whole is concluded by a\ncarefully and critically prepared chronological list of the Sovereign\nPontiffs, in which we are glad to see the Avignonian and Pisan\nclaimants of the tiara relegated to their proper place on one side,\nwhile the succession is continued through the Roman line, which is\nunquestionably the true one. The lecture on infallibility is\nespecially marked by solid learning and ample citations from the\nfathers, proving conclusively that this article of the faith was\nexplicitly held and taught from the beginning. The style is grave and\nserious, copious and flowing, and warmed with a spirit of fervent love\nto the souls of men. It is the style, not of a mere essayist, but of      572\na preacher. It is, therefore, far more pleasing and popular in its\ncharacter than that of most books on the same topic. Every Catholic in\nthe United States ought to read it, and we doubt if any book has been\npublished on the Pope equally fitted for general circulation in\nEngland and Ireland. Neither is there any so well fitted to do good\namong non-Catholics. We hope no pains will be spared to give it a wide\nand universal circulation.\n\nIt is most important and necessary that all Catholics should be fully\ninstructed in the sovereign supremacy and doctrinal infallibility of\nthe Pope, and the strict obligation in conscience of supporting his\ntemporal sovereignty.\n\nMr. Coddington has published this volume in a superior manner, with\nclear, open type, on very thick and white paper, and adorned it with\nan engraved portrait of the beloved and venerable Pius IX. Once more\nwe wish success to this timely and valuable series of lectures, and\nthank the reverend author in the name of the whole Catholic public for\nhis noble championship of the dearest and most sacred of all\ncauses--that of the Vicar of Christ.\n\n\n  ANTIDOTE TO \u201cTHE GATES AJAR.\u201d By J. S. W. Tenth thousand. New York:\n    G. W. Carleton & Co. 1872.\n\nMr. Carleton appears to be convinced that \u201c_de gustibus non est\ndisputandum_\u201d by a bookseller, but rather that provision is to be made\nfor all tastes. On the back of this little pious pamphlet we find\nadvertised _The Debatable Land_, by Robert Dale Owen; _The Seventh\nVial_, containing, we conjecture, a strong dose, by Rev. John Cumming;\n_Mother Goose with Music_, by an ancient, anonymous author; _At Last_,\na new novel, by Marian Harland, etc. The _Antidote_ is a rather weak\nand quite harmless dose, done up in pretty tinted paper. The writer\nnaively asks, on p. 23: \u201cWho would not like to fly away in the tail of\na comet?\u201d--a question which any little boy would answer in the\naffirmative, but cruelly dashes our hopes to the ground by telling us\nthat \u201call this is mere conjecture.\u201d Again, on p. 26, he gravely\nreasons thus: \u201cAs to families in heaven living in houses together, as\nif they were on earth, that is simply impossible. When children marry\nhere, they leave their parents, and have homes of their own; their\nchildren do likewise, and so on _ad infinitum_. Those who would live\ntogether in heaven would be only husbands and wives and the unmarried\nchildren. And as to the married who are not all happily united here,\nare they to be tied together for ever whether they like each other or\nnot?\u201d The little pamphlet is concluded by two pieces of poetry, one of\nwhich is pretty good, the other one of those cantering hymns which are\nsuch favorites at the week-evening prayer-meeting:\n\n         \u201cWe sing of the realms of the blest,\n            That country so bright and so fair,\n          And oft are its glories confessed;\n            But what must it be to be there?\u201d\n\nThe doctrine of Miss Phelps\u2019s antagonist is more orthodox than hers,\nwithout doubt, so far as it goes, but it is presented in such a way as\nrather to provoke a smile than to convince or attract the mind of any\none who is not already a pious Presbyterian. Our Presbyterian and\nother Evangelical friends contrive to make religion as sad and gloomy\nas a wet afternoon in the country. Even heaven itself has but small\nattractions for those who are not depressed in spirits, when described\nin the doleful strain which is supposed to be suitable to piety. Miss\nPhelps, as well as other members of the gifted and cultivated Stuart\nfamily, and many of similar character and education, revolted from the\ndismal system of Puritanism. She yearned after a brighter and more        573\nbeautiful religion, which has in it something else than the valley of\nthe shadow of death. Her striving to realize this ideal produced\n_Gates Ajar_ and other similar works, whose immense popularity proves\nboth her own power as a writer and also a widely-felt sympathy with\nthe sentiments of her own mind. It is the Catholic theology alone\nwhich presents the true and complete doctrine respecting the beatific\nvision, the glorified humanity of Our Lord, Our Lady, and the saints,\nthe angelic hierarchy, and the relation between the visible and\ninvisible worlds; together with that element of the poetic and the\nmarvellous after which the mind, the imagination, and the heart crave\nwith an insatiable longing. We are tempted to close the present\nexercise, after the manner of the little book before us, with a few\nverses from an old hymn, written by one of the persecuted Catholics of\nLancashire, at the close of the sixteenth or the beginning of the\nseventeenth century. The whole hymn may be found in the _Month_ for\nSeptember and October:\n\n         \u201cHierusalem, my happie home,\n            When shall I come to thee?\n          When shall my sorrowes have an end?\n            Thy ioyes when shall I see?\n\n         \u201cThy walls are made of precious stones,\n            Thy bulwarks diamonds square,\n          Thy gates are of right orient pearle,\n            Exceedinge riche and rare.\n\n         \u201cThy turrettes and thy pinnacles\n            With carbuncles doe shine;\n          Thy verie streets are paved with gould\n            Surpassinge cleare and fine.\n\n         \u201cThy houses are of ivorie,\n            Thy windoes cristale cleare,\n          Thy tyles are made of beaten gould\n            O God, that I were there!\n\n         \u201cThy gardens and thy gallant walkes\n            Continually are greene;\n          There grow such sweet and pleasant flowers\n            As noewhere else are seene.\n\n         \u201cQuyt through the streetes with silver sound\n            The flood of life doth flowe,\n          Upon whose bankes on every syde\n            The wood of lyfe doth grow.\n\n         \u201cHierusalem, my happie home!\n            Would God I were in thee!\n          Would God my woes were at an end,\n            Thy ioyes that I might see!\u201d\n\n\n  THE PRISONERS OF ST. LAZARE. Edited by Mrs. Pauline de Grandpr\u00e8.\n    Translated from the French by Mrs. E. M. McCarthy. New York:\n    Appleton & Co.\n\nIn this volume we have a rambling, desultory description of the prison\nof St. Lazare in Paris, and its inmates. It is a prison for women\nguilty of every variety of crime, and they are even incarcerated here\non suspicion. But the majority of its occupants are women who have\nfallen from virtue more or less criminally. Two great unsolved\nquestions of the age force themselves upon the attentive reader of\nthis volume, filled with the pitiful tale of woman\u2019s sin and shame:\nWhat can be done to succor unfortunates who have been ensnared and\ndrawn away from the paths of virtue, and have a desire to return to an\nhonest life; and what are the legitimate and proper employments of\nwomen outside of the family?\n\nWe are not competent to answer thoroughly either of these questions,\nwhich for many years have exercised the politician as well as the\nphilanthropist; we can only express our opinion. We have no such place\nin this country as St. Lazare, but we have the abandoned women and\ntheir needs. Ah! that word abandoned expresses the state of the public\nmind toward those who have thus fallen; but the Catholic Christian\ncannot suffer any soul for whom Christ died to be abandoned, and the\nCatholic Church answers the first of these questions by opening her\narms to the penitent, and offering her the refuge of \u201cHouses of the\nGood Shepherd,\u201d established in most of our large cities. By the\nsupport and multiplication of this order, whose lifework is to receive\nand help these poor children of sin, is the most effectual way in\nwhich Catholic women can reach the class in whose interest this book\nwas written. We do not believe that women discharged from a prison\nlike St. Lazare could be preserved from future danger in an institution   574\nlike the one proposed in the appendix to this volume. No place but a\nstrictly religious house, in our opinion, could be a house of moral\nconvalescence to these poor creatures. There is one way in which\nAmerican Catholic women can lessen the number of these miserable\noutcasts. Watch over your servants, know where they spend their\nevenings, take them by the hand and give them loving, maternal advice\nas to their company, and endeavor to bring them often to confession\nand communion. The providence of God has committed these young girls\nto your care, and who knows but their souls may be required of you,\nnegligent mistresses, in that day when we must all stand before the\njudgment-seat of Christ? With regard to the employments of women,\nshould not women be allowed to do any honest business that they can do\nwell? Many new openings have been made for her of late years in\ntelegraphic and photographic offices and stores. But, after all, to\ntouch the root of this matter, why should not woman be so trained that\nshe could, in any emergency, have a resource and support herself? A\ngreat deal would be gained if children were brought up to feel that\n\u201cit is working, and not having money, that makes people happy.\u201d \u201cIt is\na noteworthy fact,\u201d says the author of _The Prisoners of St. Lazare_,\n\u201cthat three-quarters of the inmates are without knowledge of a trade\nor of any means of making a livelihood for themselves. The support of\nhusband or father failing, then destitution followed, and then vice.\u201d\n\n\n  PROPHETIC IMPERIALISM; or, The Prophetic Entail of Imperial Power.\n    By Joseph L. Lord, of the Boston Bar. New York: Hurd and Houghton.\n    1871.\n\nMr. Lord writes like a thorough gentleman, a point which we notice in\nthis distinct and emphatic manner because it is a somewhat rare\nphenomenon in literature of this class. He writes, also, like a\nwell-trained and cultivated scholar and thinker. It is, therefore, a\npleasant task to read what he has written, more pleasant from the fact\nthat his essay is a short one, and his thoughts are briefly as well as\nlucidly and elegantly set forth. Moreover, although a Boston lawyer,\nMr. Lord really reverences the Holy Scriptures and believes the\nprophets. His spirit is pious and fervent, though sober, and he is\nalike free from cant and from unbelieving flippancy. The peculiar\ntheory of Mr. Lord regarding the fulfilment of what we may call the\nimperial prophecies is not contrary to orthodox doctrine, and is in\nfact held by him in common with some Catholic writers, although\ndiverse from the one held by the generality of sound interpreters. So\nfar as all the empires preceding that of Christ are concerned, he\nagrees with the common interpretation. In respect to this last, he\nholds to a personal descent and earthly empire of our Lord. This is an\nhypothesis which, in our eyes, has no probability whatever. It is not\nwonderful, however, that a person who does not see the earthly empire\nof Christ in the reign and triumph of his Vicar and the Roman Church,\nshould be driven to look for a personal descent and reign of the Lord\nin the latter times. In this respect, Mr. Lord agrees with a number of\neminent Protestant writers, who, being disgusted with the fruits of\nthe Reformation, and not so happy as to see the glories of the\nCatholic Church, fly for consolation to this brilliant but, as we\nthink, baseless hypothesis.\n\nMr. Lord differs from most American Protestants in the very\ndisrespectful esteem in which he holds democracy. It is curious to\nobserve the very enthusiastic and adulatory language in which a number\nof divines express their conviction of the truth of his theory,\nimperialistic as it is from top to bottom. They withhold their names,     575\nhowever, from a motive of prudence. Mr. Lord\u2019s arguments have not\nconvinced us that his theory is correct, but they prove their author\nto be worthy of esteem.\n\n\n  EAST AND WEST POEMS. By Bret Harte. Boston: James R. Osgood &\n    Company (late Ticknor & Fields, and Fields, Osgood & Co.). 1871.\n\nMany of those who have enjoyed Bret Harte\u2019s fugitive pieces have felt\na vague suspicion that the word poetry was scarcely adequate to\nexpress their character. The sketches from nature have been\nunquestionably graphic, and, in some cases, not devoid of real humor\nor pathos--all which has led to their being considered by many as\nevidences of genius capable by its touch of ennobling humble and\ninsignificant subjects. The volumes, however, which have succeeded one\nanother since Mr. Harte has left California, persuade us that he not\nonly calls his rhymes poetry, but sincerely believes them to be such,\nand takes for granted that everybody who knows anything at all agrees\nperfectly with him. We fear that there has been a mistake somewhere.\nEither the public have been betrayed into an incautious endorsement of\nthe author\u2019s opinion of his own work, or the author has mistaken the\ncharacter of the sensation which he has created.\n\nHe seems to be just as eager as ever in his efforts to astonish the\nworld; and we know not how many more volumes of \u201cpoems\u201d we may expect\nbefore the public and he come to an understanding. For our own part,\nthe present is just one more than we are prepared to welcome. In spite\nof kindly dispositions, we are painfully impressed with the fact that\nthe mistake we have alluded to lies with the author. We are also\nunpleasantly relieved from a doubt as to whether the character of his\ndoggerel is, in all cases, due to the subject, and forced to conclude\nthat there is a congeniality between the writer and his themes which\nis the secret of his success. We wish him well, and none the less in\ndesiring space wherein to administer to the present volume the\ncastigation which it deserves. In so doing, we would not deny him a\ncertain amount of genuine talent, such as is shown in certain places\nin the \u201cGreyport Legend\u201d (pp. 7-10), or the \u201cLines on a Pen of Thomas\nStarr King\u201d (pp. 65,66), or \u201cA Second Review of the Grand Army\u201d (pp.\n95-99); nor would we be disposed to carp at a certain slovenliness\nwhich mars the beauty of other serious poems, but which did not\ndetract from their merit on the occasions for which they were\nwritten--as was the case with the \u201cAddress\u201d (pp. 78-81), and the poem\nof the \u201cLost Galleon\u201d (pp. 82-93)--the latter, if we mistake not,\nhaving been composed for a social reunion of the Alumni of the Pacific\nCoast. But nothing could induce us to excuse the reckless vulgarity\ndisplayed in such pieces as \u201cA White Pine Ballad\u201d (p. 155); \u201cIn the\nMission Garden\u201d (p. 21). There is also enough nonsense in such lines\nas the \u201cCalifornia Madrigal\u201d (p. 127), \u201cA Moral Vindicator\u201d (p. 165),\n_et alibi passim_, to make the deliberate addition of \u201cSongs\nwithout Sense\u201d (p. 168), unwarrantably superfluous.\n\nThe author is not sufficiently aware of the distinction between\ncoarseness and originality, or else prefers notoriety to fame. We\ncannot consent to the admission of his book into respectable libraries\nor drawing-room bookstands, still less to a place in American\nliterature. If he should ever recognize and prune his defects, and\ncultivate a little more respect for those for whom he writes, as well\nas love for the purity of the idiom in which he deals, we shall be\nhappy to give him that praise which would be at present most unmerited\nand inopportune.\n\n\n  SERMONS BY THE FATHERS OF THE CONGREGATION OF ST. PAUL. Vol. VI. New    576\n    York: The Catholic Publication Society. 1871.\n\nFor obvious reasons, we have taken occasion to speak of this volume\nwithout the knowledge of the responsible editor. The great pressure on\nour columns this month, which has compelled the omission of several\nvaluable articles already in type, will not permit, however, more than\na passing notice. We have always considered these annual volumes as\nmodels of wise, simple, and earnest instruction, and see no reason to\nchange our opinion in the present instance. Indeed, there is, perhaps,\nincreased reason, during these troublous times, to admire the bravery\nwith which our Paulist Fathers meet the various questions demanding\nsolution, and we therefore take pleasure in commending the work to the\nattention of all interested in homiletic literature.             C.\n\n\n  TO AND FROM THE PASSION PLAY, IN THE SUMMER OF 1871. By the Rev. G.\n    H. Doane. Boston: Patrick Donahoe. 1872.\n\nThis elegant volume contains not only an accurate description of the\nPassion Play--a spectacle to which, of course, none but a Catholic can\ndo justice--but also a great deal of interesting matter about a number\nof things and places that the author saw on his journeys to and fro.\nAs regards Paris, we have a sketch of some of the deeds of the\nCommune, and, in particular, the murder of the late archbishop.\n\nIt is worthy of remark that, when Father Doane describes whether a\nplace or an incident, he avoids that elaboration and artifice which\npall upon the reader in many books of travel, and gives us his\nthoughts and impressions in an easy and happy style. We congratulate\nhim on his literary efforts; and thank him cordially for affording us\nso much valuable information in so pleasant a manner.\n\nThe \u201cCatholic Publication Society\u201d has in press, and will publish\nimmediately, _The Pastoral Address of the Archbishops and Bishops of\nIreland on the School Question_. It will be got out in a 12mo\npamphlet, and will be sold for $3 per 100 copies.\n\nThe \u201cCatholic Publication Society\u201d will also publish, early in January,\n_The Liquefaction of the Blood of St. Januarius_; _Lentent Sermons_,\nfrom the Italian of Rev. Paul Segneri, S. J.; and _Sermons on\nEcclesiastical Subjects_, Vol. II., by Archbishop Manning.\n\n\n                   BOOKS AND PAMPHLETS RECEIVED.\n\n  From CHARLES SCRIBNER & CO., New York: The Holy Bible according to\n    the Authorized Version (A.D. 1611), with an explanatory and\n    critical commentary, and revision of the Translation, by Bishops\n    and other Clergy of the Anglican Church. Edited by F. C. Cook,\n    M.A., Canon of Exeter. Vol. I., Part I. Genesis-Exodus. 8vo, pp.\n    xii., 928.\n\n  From HURD & HOUGHTON, New York: The Last Knight: A Romance-Garland,\n    from the German of Anastasius Gr\u00fcn. Translated with Notes by John\n    O. Sargent. 8vo, pp. vi., 200.--The Church Idea: An Essay toward\n    Unity. By Wm. R. Huntington, Rector of All Saints\u2019, Worcester.\n    12mo, pp. 235.\n\n  From ROBERTS BROTHERS, Boston: Songs of the Sierras. By Joaquin\n    Miller. 12mo, pp. 299.\n\n  From CARLTON & LANAHAN, New York: The Mission of the Spirit; or, The\n    Office and Work of the Comforter in Human Redemption. By Rev. L. R.\n    Dunn. 12mo, pp. 303.\n\n  From J. B. LIPPINCOTT, Philadelphia: The Resurrection of the\n    Redeemed; and Hades. By James Boggs. 12mo, pp. 145, 69.\n\n  From HOLT & WILLIAMS, New York: Art in Greece. By H. Taine.\n    Translated by John Durand. 12mo, pp. 188.\n\n  From PATRICK DONAHOE, Boston: The Four Great Evils of the Day. By\n    Henry Edward, Archbishop of Westminster. 18mo. pp. 207.--Review of\n    a \u201cTreatise on Infant Baptism\u201d by Thos. H. Pritchard, D.D. Part I.\n    By Rev. J. V. McNamara, Pastor of St. John\u2019s Roman Catholic\n    Church, Raleigh, N.C. Paper, pp. 46.\n\n  From ROBERT CLARKE & CO., Cincinnati: Who is the Pope? And Who is\n    Pius IX. among the Popes? By F. X. Weninger, D.D., S.J. Paper,\n    pp. 15.\n\n  From THE FREE PRESS ASSOCIATION, New York: Appeal to the People of\n    the State of New York, adopted by the Executive Committee of\n    Citizens and Taxpayers for the Financial Reform of the City and\n    County of New York, etc. Paper, pp. 16.\n\n  From D. APPLETON & CO., New York: Philosophy of Style: An Essay. By\n    Herbert Spencer, author of \u201cFirst Principles of Philosophy,\u201d etc.\n    Pp. 55.\n\n  International Congress on the Prevention and Repression of Crime,\n    including Penal and Reformatory Treatment. By E. C. Wines, LL.D.,\n    Commissioner of the United States. Paper, pp. 28.\n\n\n\n\n                                 THE                                      577\n\n                          CATHOLIC WORLD.\n\n                VOL. XIV., No. 83.--FEBRUARY, 1872.\n\n     Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1872, by\n  REV. S. T. HECKER, in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at\n                         Washington, D. C.\n\n\n\n\n            THE DUTIES OF THE RICH IN CHRISTIAN SOCIETY.\n\n                               NO. I.\n\n                     IN REFERENCE TO COMMUNISM.\n\n\nUnder the foregoing title, we propose to present to the careful\nattention of the wealthy class of American citizens a series of essays\non some topics which concern them very nearly. We intend to make each\none short, that it may be easily read, and that the reader who is\ninterested in the matters we discuss may have time to think over each\ntopic by itself. We address them principally to Catholics, and shall,\ntherefore, always take for granted and appeal to Catholic principles\nand doctrines. Yet we are convinced that others not Catholics will\nfind a great deal in them which they must acknowledge to be true, and\nlikely to do them good, if they are at all earnest and conscientious.\n\nSince we expect to say some things to the rich, and to those who are\nby other advantages besides wealth in an elevated social position,\nwhich will be severe, and perhaps to some unpalatable, we may as well\nbegin by placing a guard against a possible misunderstanding of our\nintent. No careful reader of our magazine can suppose that we would\nsympathize with or encourage any movement hostile to the just rights\nor reasonable privileges of the wealthy class. Moreover, we cherish a\ndeep respect for all the hierarchical institutions of the political\nand social order, as well as for their more sacred and elevated\ncounterparts in the ecclesiastical system. We recognize the necessity,\neven in our republican commonwealth, of a certain elevated social\nclass, in which men of wealth must unavoidably have an eminent\nposition. Whatever we have which can check our ultra-democratic\ntendencies, infuse a conservative spirit into our public opinion, give\ndignity, decorum, and stability to our institutions, elevate and\nrefine our social tone, and add a becoming splendor to our\ncivilization, calls forth our sympathies, and receives our deliberate\nand reasoned approbation. Whatever censures, therefore, we may\npronounce upon the vices, follies, and delinquencies of the rich and      578\nthe otherwise highly placed in social rank, and whatever admonitions\nwe may address to them respecting the duties and dangers of their\nposition, must be taken as coming from a friend, not only to\nthemselves as individuals, but to their class. With these\npreliminaries, we address ourselves to our task.\n\nWe have placed the title \u201cIn Reference to Communism\u201d at the head of\nour first article for one special reason. Communism threatens the\nwealthy class with a war of extermination. It is obvious, therefore,\nthat the rich have more need to reflect on the duties and dangers of\ntheir position, at the present time, than they have ever had before.\nSo, then, we call their attention at the outset to the war which the\nfanatics of revolution are preparing for them, in order that our words\nmay have more weight, and that they may give more serious thought to\nthe subjects we intend to discuss with them. And here we will explain\nthat we employ the single terms \u201crich,\u201d \u201crich people,\u201d etc., for\nconvenience\u2019 sake, including under this designation other\nqualifications besides moneyed wealth, and other persons besides those\nwho possess great fortunes; namely, all those who possess any species\nof privilege or power which gives them social dignity and influence.\n\nWe say, then, to the rich: your class, your privileges, your\npossessions, your lives, are threatened by an enemy whose character is\ndisclosed by the bloody orgies of the Paris Commune. What application\ndo we make of this grave and alarming fact? Simply this. The rich\nmembers of society ought to reflect seriously on all the questions\nwhich relate to their position in the commonwealth. They ought to\nthink of their duties, to examine their own delinquencies, to consider\nthe line of conduct they ought to adopt, to use their power and\ninfluence rightly and rationally, to educate their children carefully,\nand in every way to prevent and defeat the nefarious plots of the\nparty of revolution. We say, earnestly and emphatically, that there is\nnow a special necessity and obligation to use wealth, education,\nintellectual power, social influence, political power, moral and\nreligious force, to avert the dangers which threaten society, and to\npromote its solid and firm establishment on a right basis. Moreover,\nthe self-interest of the rich demands this of them most imperatively.\nAll their private and personal interests depend on the peace and good\norder of society. Their own safety demands of them that they should\nwork for the salvation of political and social order, when they are in\ndanger, just as they would bear a hand at the pumps on board a leaking\nship, or man the batteries of their own beleaguered city. Hostility\nbetween the wealthy and the laborious classes is a great evil in\nsociety. When the hostility of the masses against the aristocracy\nbecomes violent, and tends to produce a revolution and an exterminating\nwar of the former against the latter, there is a deadly sickness in\nthe body politic which threatens its dissolution. This state of things\nexists at present in Christendom. We are not so deeply affected as yet\nin this country; but we are not altogether sound or safe from the\ninfection, and there is reason enough to be on the alert to protect\nourselves from it. The rich have duties toward society in general, and\ntoward its several classes and individuals in particular. And they\nhave, at the present time and in present circumstances, a special\nobligation to give these duties careful attention.\n\nAll this would he strictly true and sufficient to arouse the rich to a    579\ngreater vigilance in fulfilling the duties of their high position,\neven if they were free from blame, as a class, for the disorders and\nevils of modern society; but, if they are chiefly to blame for these\nevils through their past neglect and delinquency, there is an\nadditional and imperative motive in this fact for a strenuous effort\non their part to repair the past in the present and the future by a\nredoubled fidelity and energy. We think they are to blame. It is our\ndeliberate judgment that communism, and the whole mass of social\ndisorders which have lately come to the surface of the body politic\nunder this loathsome and deadly form, are principally to be traced to\nthe abuse of power and wealth by the governing classes. Kings, nobles,\nrich men, authors, politicians, have, in part by their gross abuse of\nthe trust committed to them, and in part by their neglect and\nindifference, generated the moral _petroleum_ to which demagogues\nand leaders of revolution, the Mazzinis, Garibaldis, Karl Marxes,\nDombrowskis, and Raoul Rigaults, have applied the torch. There have\nbeen many great and good things done by kings, and by the members of\nthe political, social, and intellectual aristocracy. There have been\nmany admirable and excellent persons, many heroes and saints, among\nthese elevated classes in society. Nevertheless, on the whole, they\nhave been, especially for the past three centuries, grievously\ndelinquent, and continually becoming worse; and even more extensively\ndelinquent by neglect than by positive criminality. The greatest part\nof the miseries and crimes which darken the annals of history may be\ntraced to kings and their associates in government. Their ambition,\ntheir selfish policy, their unjust or unnecessary wars, their disregard\nof the happiness of the common people, their haughtiness of demeanor,\ntheir personal vices and corrupting example, have been the fruitful\ncauses of misery and vice among their subjects. They have reacted\nagainst themselves by producing hatred and contempt of thrones and\nkings, of authority and government. The aristocracy have followed\nclosely the royal example set before them. And the men of genius and\nintellectual culture, the princes and rich men of the realm of arts\nand letters, since the fatal epoch of the _renaissance_ of paganism,\nhave prostituted their heaven-born gifts to the service of every\ndestructive error and every corrupting vice. The greater number of\nthose who have not positively aided the work of ruin have been\napathetic and indifferent, and have not positively aided the work of\nsalvation, at least with the zeal and energy which might justly be\nexpected from them.\n\nMoreover, kings, nobles, and the wealthy class have made war on the\nchurch. They have revolted against the Holy See, enslaved the\nhierarchy and the clergy, and despoiled the church.\n\nThey have robbed and well-nigh suppressed the monastic orders. In this\nway, they have sapped and undermined the foundations of their own\nstability; for it is the principle of religious obedience and\nreverence, first of all toward God, and then secondarily toward all\npowers established and sanctioned by the law of God, which is the\nsource of the sentiment of loyalty. The rebellion of the state against\nthe church must, therefore, terminate in the rebellion of the lower\nagainst the higher classes in the state. The monastic institution was\nthe strongest of all links between rich and poor, great and humble, by\nreason of the fact that its members belonged to both classes at the\nsame time. The destruction of monasticism, therefore, resulted            580\nnecessarily in a hostility of these two classes toward each other. So\nit has come about that the aristocracy, excited by kings against the\nchurch, turned next against the kings, the commercial and middle\nclasses turned against the aristocracy, and now the masses are turning\nagainst the men of wealth, or, as their own leaders express it,\nagainst \u201cthe supremacy of cash.\u201d The condition of the laboring classes\nis, at best, in many respects a hard one. It is a great and an arduous\nthing which is required of them; to submit patiently to the supremacy\nof the higher classes. Religion alone makes their position tolerable;\nreligion, binding together both the superior and the inferior classes\nin divine love. The hierarchy and the aristocracy must be recognized\nby the people as holding their high position for the common good of\nall, and as working with a self-denial equal or superior to their own;\nthat is, as really _laborers_ in another sphere of action, but with a\ncommon end in view, in order that they may contentedly acquiesce in\nthe inequality of rank, wealth, and social privileges which prevails\nin society. So soon as the people are convinced, whether wrongly or\nrightly, that the privileges of their spiritual or temporal superiors\nare mere privileges of a caste, which despises, rules, and taxes the\npeople for its own selfish aggrandizement and pleasure, they begin to\nhate them with a deadly hatred. The Catholic people are content that\nthe Pope govern, rebuke, and punish them; that he possess the wealth\nand splendor of a spiritual and temporal sovereign; that he reign as\nthe vicegerent of God on earth--because they believe that all this is\nfor their own highest good. They are content that bishops and priests\npossess all the honors and privileges of their office, and willing to\nsustain them in these, for the same reason. Take away this belief, and\nit is not long before they begin not only to withhold their\ncontributions, to withdraw their allegiance, to refuse obedience, to\nlose respect and love for their spiritual superiors, but to cry out\nfor their overthrow and even clamor for their blood. It is the same in\nrespect to the secular privileged classes. And, at the present moment,\nsince the greatest amount of external and material privilege,\nsplendor, and worldly good in general has passed into the hands of the\nwealthy class, it is this class which is most immediately exposed to\nthe brunt of the attack which is directed against caste and privilege.\nWe will quote the language of one of the official organs of the\nInternational Society, the _Egalit\u00e9_ of Geneva, in order to show with\nthe utmost clearness what is their spirit and aim:\n\n     \u201cWhen the social revolution shall have dispossessed the\n     _bourgeoisie_, in the interests of public utility, as the\n     _bourgeoisie_ dispossessed the nobles and the clergy, what will\n     become of them?\n\n     \u201cWe cannot answer with positive certainty, but it is probable\n     that the new order of things will give them, to borrow an\n     expression from one of our friends, an infinitely more precious\n     wealth, that of labor, well paid, at their discretion; so that\n     they may be no longer obliged to live by the labor of others, as\n     they have hitherto lived. In case some of them should be\n     incapable of labor, which will happen to a good many, seeing that\n     _hitherto they have never learned the use of their ten fingers,\n     what then_? Well, then they will be given tickets for soup.\n\n     \u201c\u2018But that is too little,\u2019 the _bourgeois_ will howl.\n\n     \u201c\u2018Too little!\u2019 the workman will reply--\u2018too little to have work,\n     at your discretion, well paid, and soup for the invalids! The\n     deuce! You are hard to please. We could have been well satisfied\n     with such terms formerly.\u2019\u201d[119]\n\nThis is the unavoidable conclusion, and the practical as well as          581\nunavoidable conclusion, to which the whole mass of the people must\ncome, unless they are convinced that the rich labor more usefully for\nthe common good, and for the good of the poor, by means of their\nwealth with its attendant privileges, than they would by manual labor.\nThey cannot be convinced of this, unless rich and poor alike recognize\nthe truth of religious and Christian principles, and act on them\npractically. On the materialistic, anti-theistic ground, you cannot\nget a foothold against communism. It is all a waste of words to show\nthat civilization, art and science, social and political splendor,\nnational greatness, etc., require the concentration of wealth in a few\nhands. What does the poor man care for these, if this life is all,\nmaterial good the _summum bonum_, and he himself miserable? His\ncondition becomes insupportable, and he would rather burn the world\nwith petroleum than bear it. It is very true that his desperate\nefforts will make his condition far worse. But he will not listen to\nyou when you try to prove this to him, and, if you should even\nconvince him, you would only render him more desperate. He must\nbelieve that he is under the government of God, that he has been\nredeemed by Christ, that heaven is opened to him by faith, that this\nworld is a place for gaining merit by labor and suffering, that the\ndifference in rank, wealth, and privilege is ordered by God for the\ngood of all and every one, if he is to be contented with his lot. For\nhim is the Pope, the bishop, the priest, the splendid church, the\nglittering vestments and chalices. For him, too, is government, for\nhim is commerce and trade, for him science and art, for him are some\nmen rich. The church and the state are necessary for his good, and\nboth church and state have need of men in whose hands wealth and power\nare deposited.\n\nIf the people are to be convinced of this, they must see that their\nspiritual and temporal superiors are convinced of it, and act\naccordingly. The rich as well as the poor must act on Christian\nprinciples--act as men who have a trust committed to them for the\ncommon good. They must, in a word, be zealous _laborers_ in their own\nsphere. And it is especially incumbent on them, at the present time,\nto do everything possible to ameliorate and elevate the condition of\nthat class of society who are not merely doomed to a life of manual\nlabor, but to a life of misery and degradation. The people have been\ntaught that they possess political sovereignty, and universal suffrage\nhas given them the right and power to exercise it. Can they be\nexpected, then, to remain content for ever with a sovereignty which is\nunited with a state of social abjectness and misery? Is it safe or\nprudent to neglect, despise, or insult them; or to swindle them and\ndefraud them of their rights, and at the same time to flaunt before\ntheir eyes the gaudy insignia of what they believe to be ill-gotten\nwealth? Especially when we consider that they read the newspaper every\nday. We leave it to our rich merchants and our educated men to think\nover and answer to themselves these questions.\n\nFor ourselves, we are convinced that the only safety for the wealthy\nclass, and for society, is to be found in a return to purely Christian\nand Catholic principles. And we shall proceed to give our views more\ndefinitely and in detail upon the part which devolves on the rich in\nthis work of social regeneration, in our future articles.\n\n\n     [119] See the _Dublin Review_, Oct., p. 459.\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n                        THE HOUSE OF YORKE.                               582\n\n\n                            CHAPTER XXI.\n\n                        AMONG THE BREAKERS.\n\n\nWhen the boat had slipped away from Indian Point, at one side, and\nCarl Yorke had strode off through the woods, at the other, Captain\nCary lifted again the dingy canvas, and entered the wigwam that Edith\nhad just quitted. In doing so, he was obliged to stoop very low, for\nthe opening scarcely reached as high as his shoulders, and, had he\nstood erect inside, he would have taken the whole structure up by the\nroots.\n\nDick still lay with his arms thrown above his head, and his face\nhidden in them.\n\nHis friend bent over him, and spoke with an affectation of hearty\ncheerfulness which was far from his real mood. \u201cCome! come! don\u2019t give\nup for a trifle, my boy. You\u2019re more scared than hurt. All you need is\na little brandy and courage. Everything will turn out rightly, never\nfear!\u201d\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t talk to me!\u201d said Dick.\n\nCaptain Cary\u2019s heart sank at the sound of that moaning voice. When\nDick Rowan\u2019s spirit broke, there was trouble indeed, and trouble which\ncould neither be laughed nor reasoned away.\n\n\u201cDo take the brandy, at least,\u201d he urged; \u201cand then I won\u2019t talk to\nyou any more till the boat comes back. You must take it. You\u2019re in an\nague-fit now.\u201d\n\nDick was, indeed, trembling violently. But, more to relieve himself\nfrom importunity, it would seem, than for any other reason, he lifted\nhis head, swallowed the draught that was offered him, and sank back\nagain.\n\nHis friend leaned over him one instant, his breast, strongly heaving,\nand full of pity, against Dick\u2019s shoulder, his rough, tender cheek\nlaid to Dick\u2019s wet hair.\n\nThe poor boy turned at that, threw his arms around Captain Cary\u2019s\nneck, drew him down, and held him close, as a drowning man might hold\na plank. \u201cO captain, captain!\u201d he whispered, \u201cI\u2019ve got an awful blow!\u201d\n\nWhen the sailor went out into the air again, all the Indians had\nretired into their wigwams, except Malie, and her father and mother.\nThe child, wide awake, and full of excitement, was swinging herself by\nthe bough of a tree, half her motion lost sight of in the dark pine\nshadow, half floating out into the light. Now and then, she stretched\nher foot, and struck the earth with it. When the stranger appeared and\nlooked her way, she began to chatter like a squirrel, and, lifting her\nfeet, scrambled into the tree, and disappeared among its branches.\n\nMr. and Mrs. Nicola crouched by the fire, and sulkily ignored the\nintruder. When he approached and stood by her side, the woman did not\nturn her head, but tossed a strip of birch-bark into the coals, and       583\nwatched it while it writhed, blackened, turned red, shrivelled, and\ndisappeared.\n\n\u201cI wonder if she would like to serve me that way?\u201d he questioned\ninwardly; and said aloud, \u201cI am going up to meet my man at the ship,\nand come back with him. It may save a little time, and I don\u2019t like to\nkeep you up any longer than I must.\u201d\n\nThe man uttered a low-toned guttural word, the woman nodded her head\nin reply, but neither took any notice of Captain Cary.\n\n\u201cI am sorry to intrude,\u201d he added stiffly; \u201cbut when a man is sick, he\nmust be taken care of. Captain Rowan, in there, doesn\u2019t half know\nwhere he is, nor what he is about. I will get him away as soon as I\ncan. You shall be paid for your trouble.\u201d He tossed a silver piece\ndown between the two. \u201cWhen I come back, you shall have more,\u201d he\nsaid, and, turning his back upon them, walked off into the woods.\n\nNeither of the two elders stirred till he was out of sight; but Malie\nslipped from her tree, darted at the money, and snatched it up. She\nwas escaping with it, when her father seized her, took the money from\nher hand, and put it into his pocket. She only laughed when he let her\ngo. She had no use for money, except to wear it on a string around her\nneck, and a string of beads was prettier. Besides, she had her\ntreasure--the book the lady had given her that day. She threw herself\non the ground, near the fire, drew this book from the loose folds of\nher blouse, and turned the leaves, reading here and there. The page\nlooked like all sorts of bird-songs written out. Doubtless the birds\nand beasts had had a good deal to do with making the language of it.\nWho would not think that _k\u2019tchitbess\u00f9w\u00ecnoa_ was a verse from a\nfeathered songster? Malie would tell you that it means a \u201cgeneral.\u201d\nProbably the birds call their generals by that name. One looks with\ninterest on a child who can read this chippering, gurgling,\ntwittering, lisping, growling \u201cto-whit, to-whoo!\u201d of a thought-medium.\n\nWhile she read, Captain Cary, tramping through the strip of woods\nbetween the encampment and South Street, recollected for the first\ntime that his clothes were dripping wet. \u201cWhat a queer, topsy-turvy\ntime we are having!\u201d he muttered, wringing the water from his cravat,\nas he hurried along. \u201cThe whole affair reminds me of that fairy play I\nsaw last winter. There must be something unwholesome in this\nmoonshine.\u201d\n\nThe play he meant was _Midsummer-Night\u2019s Dream_. But there was now no\nclamor of rustic clowns in a hawthorn brake, nor sight of Titania\nsleeping among her pensioners the cowslips. There were but his own\nsteps, muffled in moss, and the lurking shadows, creeping noiselessly\naway from the pursuing light.\n\nBy that short road across the Point, it was less than half a mile to\nthe wharf where the _Halcyon_ lay, and in ten minutes Captain Cary had\nreached his ship. His crew were all on board, and, as he walked down\nthe wharf, he heard the refrain of one of their songs:\n\n          \u201cAnd they sank him in the lowlands, low.\u201d\n\nThe verse ended in that mournful cadence that sailors learn from the\nocean winds--those long-breathed, full-throated singers!\n\nAt sound of the captain\u2019s step, silence fell, and at his call a little\nimp of a Malay cabin-boy appeared, stood with twinkling eyes to take\nhis orders, then shot away to execute them. When the sailor who had\ngone up to the bridge with the ladies came back to the ship, the yawl     584\nwas out, and Captain Cary sat in it waiting for him.\n\n\u201cMajor Cleaveland wants to see you when you come up, sir,\u201d the sailor\nsaid, as they sped down the river. \u201cHe says you\u2019d better bring Captain\nRowan right up to his house. He will send the carriage down for you.\nHe is obliged to leave town at four o\u2019clock in the morning, in the\nEastern stage, something about a trial of his in a court somewhere, so\nhe can\u2019t see you in the morning.\u201d\n\n\u201cDid anybody else say anything?\u201d the captain asked.\n\n\u201cMr. Carl Yorke said that, as soon as he had gone home with the\nladies, he would come back to see Captain Rowan. He got up to the\nbridge just as we did.\u201d\n\nCaptain Cary bent low over his oars, and muttered a word he did not\nchoose to speak aloud. Plain men are almost always ready to have a\njealous dislike of accomplished men, and a simple nature like Captain\nCary\u2019s can never do justice to a complex one like Carl Yorke\u2019s. At\nthat moment the sailor was thinking that, had Carl been the one to\nfall overboard, he would not have cared to wet his skin for the sake\nof saving him. And yet Carl had treated this man with friendly\ncourtesy, and had admired and appreciated him thoroughly.\n\n\u201cWell, did any one else say anything?\u201d he asked presently.\n\n\u201cMiss Edith felt pretty bad, sir. She leaned over the rail, and looked\nback to the Point, wringing her hands all the way, as we came up. She\ntold me to say to you that she was sorry she had left Captain Rowan. I\nguess, sir, she is pretty fond of him, after all,\u201d the sailor said\nconfidentially.\n\n\u201cWhat business have you guessing or thinking anything about it?\u201d\ndemanded his superior, with a haughty sternness that would have\ndelighted Clara Yorke. \u201cKeep your opinion till I ask for it!\u201d\n\n\u201cAll right, sir!\u201d responded the sailor, and shut his mouth. If he was\nangry, he did not venture to show it.\n\n\u201cWell?\u201d said the captain sharply, after waiting a minute.\n\n\u201cWhy, sir, there isn\u2019t much of anything else,\u201d the man answered. \u201cMiss\nYorke said that they ought to have taken Mr. Rowan up with them, and\nthat she did not understand how they had allowed themselves to be sent\naway in such a manner. And Miss Clara she said that you--isn\u2019t there a\nboat ahead, sir?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo. What if there is? Go on.\u201d He could not help being impatient.\n\n\u201cWell, Miss Clara she said that you knew best, and she wasn\u2019t afraid\nof leaving Mr. Rowan to your care.\u201d\n\nThe captain sat with his oar suspended, and stared straight ahead. The\nseaman hesitated, then returned good for evil. \u201cMiss Clara was\nmightily taken with the way you went overboard, sir. She thought that\nyou did it in a very splendid fashion. I told her I didn\u2019t know any\nother way you could have done it, unless you had gone over back\u2019ards,\nlike Captain Rowan. She tossed up her head at that, and marched off,\nand got into the carriage.\u201d\n\nThe captain\u2019s oars flashed down into the water, and he gave a pull\nthat made their boat skim the wave like a bird.\n\nWhen they reached the Point, the fire was out, and no person was in\nsight. Captain Cary hastened up the bank to the wigwam where he had\nleft Dick Rowan, but as he laid his hand on the fold of canvas a gruff\nvoice inside challenged him.\n\n\u201cI want Captain Rowan,\u201d he called out.                                    585\n\nA brief \u201cHe not here!\u201d was the reply.\n\n\u201cWhere is he, then?\u201d\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t know.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou don\u2019t know?\u201d cried the sailor. \u201cNone of your nonsense, sir! If\nany harm has come to him through you, I will hang you all to the\nbranches of these trees. Come out here, and tell me where he has gone,\nif you don\u2019t want to be dragged out.\u201d\n\nHe tore open the canvas, as he spoke, and in the dim light saw a\nswift, dark pantomime acted inside. One shadowy figure was springing\nforward, with the flash of a blade in the uplifted hand, when another\ncaught him round the neck, and a slim arm ran up his arm, that held\nthe weapon. The knife flashed an instant in that silent struggle of\nthe two to possess it, then Mrs. Nicola pushed her husband back, and,\nleaning forward, caught the canvas from the sailor\u2019s hand.\n\n\u201cThe young man took Philip Nicola\u2019s canoe, and went down the bay in\nit,\u201d she said angrily. \u201cThat is all we know about him.\u201d\n\nIt was not likely, indeed, that they would do him any harm: whatever\ntheir feelings might be, they would not dare to. There was nothing to\ndo but return to the boat, and row down the bay in search of Dick. The\nlight was still radiantly clear, and the whole surface of the bay\nplain to be seen. The group of islands showed like ashen blotches on\nthat mirror. The sailor pointed out to his captain a black speck that\nfloated away from among these islands.\n\n\u201cIt is a boat, sir,\u201d he said; \u201cbut there is no one in it.\u201d\n\n\u201cMake for that nearest island,\u201d the captain ordered; and muttered to\nhimself, \u201cDick wouldn\u2019t do it! he wouldn\u2019t.\u201d\n\nNo, Dick would not, in any depth of misery, have thrown his life away.\nThey found him there, lying prone in the sand, where, years before, he\nhad buried his father. What attraction had drawn him to that spot\nwould be hard to tell. Possibly, now that he knew the meaning of\nfailure, there was some blind feeling of compunction toward one whose\nfailures he had reproachfully thought of.\n\nDick made no resistance when Captain Cary lifted him, and, after a\nmoment, walked to the boat with him. He sat there, with his head bowed\nforward, while they rowed back to the ship. He was like one who is but\nhalf-aroused from sleep, and has a mind to fall back into it. He\nsubmitted to all that was required of him, took what they gave him,\ndid what they bade him. It was not much they prescribed--only dry\nclothes and a bed.\n\nThere is a power of instinctive recoil by which some natures are saved\nfrom being destroyed by the shock of a great blow. The senses shut\ntheir inner doors at the jar of the enemy\u2019s approach, and the soul, in\nsome remote privacy of its being, arms itself before coming forth to\nsee who knocks at its portal and bids it to battle. But for this\nmerciful interposition, it would have fared hard with Dick Rowan,\nwhen, struck by the lightning of a glance, the framework on which all\nhis life had been built up gave way without a moment\u2019s warning.\n\nHis friend left him after awhile, and went up to the Cleavelands.\nHester had expected Dick, but was too much occupied with her husband\nto be very curious regarding the accident. The young man had been\nknocked over by the boom, she had been told, and the result was\nnothing worse than a wetting. A wetting was bad, to be sure; she was\nso sorry; she hoped that Mr. Rowan had put on dry clothes at once, and    586\ntaken something hot. He must really take care of himself. But--and\nhere Mrs. Hester evidently considered herself returning to the subject\nin hand--was there ever anything more provoking than this journey? Why\ncould not that tiresome case have been tried at Seaton instead of\nMachias? Why did not the judge see about it? Why did not her husband\u2019s\nlawyer let him know in season, so that he could have driven through in\nhis own carriage by day, and not be obliged to post over the road by\nnight in those horrible coaches?\n\n\u201cIn short,\u201d laughed the husband, \u201cwhy is not all the machinery of\ncivilization regulated with an eye single to the convenience of Mrs.\nHester Cleaveland\u2019s husband?\u201d\n\nWhen no one else was present, the gentleman could take these absurd\ncares with an equally absurd complacency, and really seem to believe\nthat he was a pining invalid instead of a stout, rubicund man; but the\ngrave and wondering face of his visitor made him a little ashamed of\nsuch coddling.\n\nThe business did not take long to settle. All the preliminaries had\nbeen fully arranged before, neither gentleman being prone to leave his\naffairs at loose ends. In a few minutes they shook hands, dissolving\nall connection, except a friendly one, and wishing each other very\nheartily success and happiness. The _Halcyon_, which they had owned\ntogether, was sold, and, if the sailor went to sea again, he had a\nmind to go in a new ship of his own, and be quite independent.\n\nHester also took a kind leave of her guest, hoping to meet him again\nbefore long, since, for the present, he was going no further than New\nYork. \u201cYou know we all go to Boston soon,\u201d she said, \u201cand it would not\nbe very hard for you to come on purpose to see us.\u201d\n\nThen he went. Everything was quiet as he walked down through the town.\nIt was late, and only two lights were visible. One, burning red, a\ncyclopean eye, close to the ground, showed that the incentive to any\nand every possible sin was to be sold by the bottle or glass, mixed or\nneat, according to the taste of the person having a soul to lose.\n\nThe other light was in three windows, at the top of a building, where\nthe Know-Nothings held their secret meetings. Captain Cary knew what\nthat light meant. He stood awhile on the bridge, and watched it,\nwondering how a nation was to preserve its honor if governed by such\nmen and such means. A secret conclave, met with closed doors and\npass-word, and not one man of proved integrity inside!\n\n\u201cIf they are patriots, then Washington was not one,\u201d was the\nconclusion the sailor came to; and, having reached it, he walked on,\nand left that nest of slanderers and plotters to do their evil work.\n\u201cI\u2019d like to clean out that hall!\u201d he mused as he went.\n\nWhen he reached the ship, he found that Dick Rowan had roused himself\nsufficiently to have one wish, and that an imperative one. \u201cTake me\naway from here, Cary!\u201d he begged. \u201cThere is nothing to keep you now.\nClark says that you have seen Major Cleaveland, and that all is ready\nto sail. Don\u2019t wait. Sail early in the morning.\u201d\n\nIt was true. There was nothing to keep them till noon, except their\nengagement with the ladies of Mr. Yorke\u2019s family, and it was certainly\nfor Dick to say whether that should be kept. There was some discussion\non the subject, but Dick was inexorable, and the captain yielded. He      587\nwrote a note of explanation and apology to Mrs. Yorke; and so it\nhappened that, when that lady\u2019s messenger reached the wharf in the\nmorning, the _Halcyon_ was miles below, standing out through the\nNarrows, with a blue, sunny sea stretching in front of her straight to\nthe South Pole. On the deck sat Dick Rowan, leaning on the rail, and\nwatching the foam toss and drop, toss and drop, with a lulling motion,\nlike the to-and-fro of white, mesmerizing hands. And the face that\nwatched that motion looked half-mesmerized, pale and dreamy, with only\na groping of thought in it.\n\nThe ship went well, and within a few days they saw the rising sun\nshine on the masts and spires of New York. The evening of that very\nday, Father Fitspatrick, of Boston--Father John, his friends called\nhim--coming in rather late from a lecture, was told that a gentleman\nwas waiting in his room to see him. He went in, and found Dick Rowan\nsitting there, but not the Dick Rowan he had baptized the year before,\nand welcomed home, and talked gayly with within a few short weeks.\nThis man might have been Dick\u2019s elder brother, and a stern, pale man,\ntoo.\n\n\u201cFather,\u201d Dick said faintly, \u201cI want you to keep me a little while. I\nhave come here for sanctuary. If there is any help in religion when\nother help fails, I want to know it now.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut what has happened? What is the matter?\u201d the priest exclaimed.\n\nDick sank back into the seat from which he had risen. \u201cI\u2019ve lost\nEdith, sir, and my life has all gone to pieces.\u201d\n\n\u201cIs she dead?\u201d the priest asked.\n\n\u201cNo, sir; but she loves some one else.\u201d\n\nFather John drew his chair close to the young man\u2019s side, and took his\nhand. \u201cMy dear son,\u201d he said, \u201care you going to despair because a\nwoman has been false to you?\u201d\n\nDick looked up as though not sure that he heard aright. What! any one\ncall Edith false?\n\n\u201cNo, sir, she was not false,\u201d he said. \u201cIt was something that she\ncouldn\u2019t help. She would marry me now, if I would let her.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, then, do you not marry her?\u201d the father asked. \u201cThis is probably\na fancy, which will pass away; and if she is good and true, she will\ndo her duty by you.\u201d\n\nDick stared at the priest in an almost indignant astonishment. \u201cWhat,\nsir!\u201d he exclaimed, \u201cdo you think me mean enough to marry a woman who\nloves another man? I always feared this, at the bottom of my heart,\nthough I would not own that I did. And it was always true, I suppose,\nonly she did not know it. I made a great mistake. I thought that, if I\ntried to be good to God and to her, she would love me. But I have been\nthinking it all over during the last week, and I have found out that\nwe choose by our hearts, not our heads, and that we do not really love\na person when we can tell the reason why. I had no right to _buy_\nher. She belonged to some one else.\u201d He shivered, looked down a\nmoment, then said huskily, \u201cYes, Edith was true!\u201d and, dropping his\nface into his hands, burst into tears.\n\n\u201cMy dear son!\u201d Father John said, putting his arm around Dick\u2019s\nshoulder, \u201cdon\u2019t give up so! You have youth, and health, and friends,\nand a work to do in the world. Don\u2019t let this discourage you. She is\nonly a woman.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd I am only a man!\u201d said Dick.\n\n\u201cWhat about your ship?\u201d the priest asked, after a little while.\n\nDick raised his face, and controlled himself to speak. \u201cCaptain Cary      588\nis to take charge of her,\u201d he said. \u201cI couldn\u2019t sail in the _Edith\nYorke_ again, sir. I would not trust myself off alone in her, with\nnothing else to think of, and no escape, unless I jumped into the\nocean. It is haunted by her. Every plank, and spar, and rope of that\nship is steeped in the thought of her. I have fancied her there,\nspeaking, and laughing, and singing, just as I expected she would some\nday, and asking me the names of everything. When I used to walk up and\ndown the deck, I\u2019d imagine her beside me. I could see her dress\nfluttering, and the braid of hair, and two little feet keeping step.\nWhy, sir, it was so real that I would sometimes shorten my steps for\nher sake. I never neglected my duty for her; but I looked at\neverything through a little rosy thought of her, and that made hard\nwork pleasant. No, I can never again sail in the _Edith Yorke_. Have\npatience with me, father. Recollect, I have to overturn all that was\nmy world, and have not a point to rest my lever on.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou a Christian, and say that!\u201d the priest exclaimed. \u201cWhere is your\nfaith? Where is your reason?\u201d\n\nDick started up fiercely, and began to walk the floor. \u201cI cannot bear\nit! I will not bear it!\u201d he exclaimed. \u201cYou preachers, with your\nreason, that tramples on all feeling, are as bad as the scientists,\nwhose science tramples on all faith. God made the tide, sir, as well\nas the rock, and the storm as well as the calm, and it is for him to\nsay whether either is a foolishness. People who are wise, when they\nsit in their safe homes, and hear the wind howling, pity the sailor,\nand tremble for him; but, when you see a soul among the breakers, you\nscorn it. I tell you, I will not bear such scorn! What do you think\nthis loss is to me?\u201d he demanded, stopping before the priest, who sat\nlooking steadfastly at him. \u201cIt means that all the brightness and\nsweetness of life, everything that is dear to human nature, are torn\naway from me for ever. If I were a dissolute man, I could find a\nmiserable substitute; if I were fickle, I could fill her place; but I\nam neither. I stand here, twenty-eight years old, and--I call God to\nwitness!--as stainless as when I was an infant in my mother\u2019s arms. It\nwas Edith who kept me so. \u2018Only a woman,\u2019 you say; but that may mean\nmore than an angel. She was my guardian angel incarnate. \u2018Only a\nwoman;\u2019 but that woman\u2019s shape walked with me through paths that might\nhave led to perdition, and kept me safe. If, in anger, an oath rose in\nmy teeth, I felt her hand on my mouth, and did not utter it. If I was\ntempted with wine, I remembered her, and pushed the glass away. I can\nbe bloodthirsty, sir, if I am provoked, but many a sailor escaped the\nlash and irons for her sake. Once I had my hand at a man\u2019s throat,\nwith a mind to wring his vile life out of him, but I thought of her,\nand let him go. The memory of this is not to be reasoned away. Do you\nremember, sir, the time when you first thought of your vocation, and\nsat down to count the costs? When you called up the vision of your\nlife before you, and stripped from it, one after another, wife,\nchildren, and home, and all that they mean, did you want any one to\npreach to you, in that hour, of common sense and reason? Didn\u2019t you\nfeel that you must let nature have way a little while, and didn\u2019t you\nfind it go over you like a wave?\u201d\n\nWhile Dick Rowan, bold with passionate feeling, poured forth this\ntorrent of words, the priest sat perfectly motionless, and looked at      589\nhim. There was no sign of anger, no consciousness of insulted dignity,\nin his face, but only a profound sadness. This was no haughty\nchurchman, as his many lovers know, but a worthy follower of that\nlowly One who said, \u201cThe servant is not above his master.\u201d When Father\nJohn towered in the pulpit, or spoke from the rostrum, with his \u201cThus\nsaith the Lord!\u201d and \u201cI am Peter, and James, and John!\u201d there was an\nauthority which could not be defied, and a loftiness which would not\nhave bent before C\u00e6sar; but in things temporal, and when winning and\ncomforting souls, his was a charity most tender, and a humility most\nimposing.\n\nSomething in that face, now sleeping with Abraham and the fathers,\narrested the young man\u2019s impetuous speech. He faltered, and stopped;\nand, when the arms were stretched out to him, dropped on his knees,\nand leaned his face against that kind bosom.\n\n\u201cForgive me, dear father!\u201d Dick said. \u201cI did not mean to be rude, nor\nto forget the reverence due to you. I know that all you would say to\nme is true; but--I die hard!\u201d\n\n\n                           CHAPTER XXII.\n\n                           EXPLANATIONS.\n\n\nMeantime, what had been going on in the Yorke family at Seaton? Mrs.\nYorke had not feared that there was any serious trouble till she\nlearned that Dick Rowan had gone away. She was in bed when her young\npeople returned the night before, and knew only what Clara came to her\ndoor to say:\n\n\u201cWe have had a delightful sail, mamma, and are all well. I hope that\nyou have not been anxious. Mr. Rowan fell overboard, for a diversion,\nand, of course, got wet; but Captain Cary got him out, and he is all\nright now. Good-night, mamma, for me and the girls, and Carl. We are\nall here.\u201d\n\nHowever late her children might be out, Mrs. Yorke could not close her\nmotherly eyes till she knew that they were safe under the home-roof\nagain. Then she turned upon her pillow, and dropped asleep, giving\nthanks. She felt a slight uneasiness when Melicent, before breakfast\nthe next morning, asked her to send Patrick down to enquire for Dick.\n\n\u201cWhy, was he hurt? Is he not coming up, this morning?\u201d she asked.\n\n\u201cI presume that he is very well, mamma,\u201d the daughter replied. \u201cBut it\nwould look pleasant to be attentive.\u201d\n\nThis was said with an air of reserve, and the young woman evidently\ndid not wish to say any more. In an equally diplomatic manner, she\nannounced that Edith had a headache, and was not coming down to\nbreakfast. Melicent was one of those persons who, when in possession\nof a secret, as James Russell Lowell has said, \u201cwill not let the cat\nout of the bag, but they give its tail a pull to let you know that it\nis there.\u201d\n\nMrs. Yorke said no more. She found this manner annoying. But she\nobserved at breakfast that Carl ate nothing, and that Clara kept up a\nconstant stream of talk, that seemed designed to cover some\nembarrassment. She noticed, also, that no mention was made of Dick\nRowan or their sail of the day before. When she arose from the table,\nand went toward the entry-door, her eldest daughter interposed, with      590\nan air of being in the charge of affairs. \u201cI would not disturb Edith\nnow, mamma.\u201d\n\n\u201cMelicent!\u201d exclaimed her mother haughtily, and waved the young woman\naside.\n\nEdith was lying on her bed, dressed as on the day before, her face\nhidden in the pillow. She started when her aunt spoke to her, and\nturned a pale and tear-wet face. It did not need this to tell Mrs.\nYorke that her niece\u2019s headache came from the heart.\n\n\u201cMy head does ache, Aunt Amy,\u201d Edith said. \u201cBut I am distressed about\nDick. He is displeased with me. I do not wish to speak of it to any\none but him.\u201d\n\n\u201cI have sent Patrick down, my dear,\u201d her aunt said; \u201cand you shall\nknow as soon as he returns.\u201d\n\nMrs. Yorke and her two daughters sat together, pretending to read and\nsew, but all watching the avenue gate for the return of their\nmessenger. When he had delivered his news, and gone, the mother spoke\nwith authority.\n\n\u201cGirls, I insist on knowing, at once, the meaning of this!\u201d\n\n\u201cYou had better ask Carl, mamma; he is the one to explain,\u201d answered\nMelicent. \u201cBut I must say that Mr. Rowan has behaved ill. A young man\nwhom one of our family has promised to marry should at least act like\na gentleman.\u201d\n\n\u201cSend Carl to me,\u201d Mrs. Yorke said, rising. \u201cAnd, Clara, say to Betsey\nthat I shall see no one to-day, then go up and tell Edith.\u201d\n\nCarl was pacing one of the garden paths, and, for the first time that\nday, his manner showed agitation. He had already heard Patrick\u2019s news,\nand his first thought was to echo Melicent\u2019s opinion that one who had\nbeen connected with their family should at least act like a gentleman.\nThis sudden withdrawal not only gave occasion for gossip, but it was\nrude to Edith. That it left him in the position of a culprit, Carl\nwould not allow himself to care.\n\n\u201cI thought the fellow had more spirit!\u201d he muttered. \u201cBut it isn\u2019t in\nhim to act like anything but a rustic.\u201d\n\nAs he said this, an inner voice made answer; not the voice of\nconscience, for that acquitted him, but the voice which he expected to\nhear from without: \u201cNeither is it in him to speak or sing love to\nanother man\u2019s promised wife, though silence should break his heart.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd what if it broke hers?\u201d asked Carl, as though he had been spoken\nto.\n\nHe glanced up at the window of Edith\u2019s chamber. The curtain was down,\nhanging in close, white folds, shutting her in.\n\nThen came Melicent to call him.\n\nCarl found his mother in a tiny room, where she always took her siesta\nin summer, and where she held all her private conferences. It was a\ncosy, shady nook, with only a sofa, and table, and chair in it, and\nseemed intended as a place for confidential communion. In that room,\nwith nothing to save him from her steady eyes, Mr. Griffeth had\nstammered out his apologies to Mrs. Yorke for misleading her son;\nthere, her daughters came for advice and admonition; and there she\nherself retired when she wished to be alone. It was a place where a\nrebel could be brought to submission, or a penitent comforted. It is\nalmost impossible to be confidential in a large, well-lighted room.\n\n\u201cHave you had any quarrel with Mr. Rowan, Carl?\u201d his mother asked, the\nmoment he appeared.\n\n\u201cNot an unpleasant word has passed between us, mother,\u201d he answered.      591\n\nShe had been standing, but sank back into the sofa as he spoke, and he\nclosed the door, and came and stood before her, doubting, at first,\nwhat the tone of their interview would be. Her question had been\nimperative, and that he could not bear. There are times in the life of\nthe most dutiful when they feel that there is for them then no\nlegitimate human authority outside themselves. But he saw that her\nface was pale, though the red curtain lowered over the one window\nbehind her warmed all the light that entered; and her voice was\nentreating when she spoke again:\n\n\u201cMy son, have you nothing to tell me?\u201d\n\nHe sat down on the hassock at her feet, and leaned on her lap; and she\nknew all before he had uttered a word.\n\n\u201cMy child,\u201d she whispered, leaning toward him, \u201cyour happiness is my\ndearest wish; but there is honor!\u201d\n\nHe took her trembling hands, and met her look firmly. \u201cYes, mother,\nthere is honor,\u201d he said. \u201cBut listen to me, before you conclude that\nit should be mentioned here in the subjunctive sense. You know,\nmother, I could not speak of love to a child. I did not wish to. It\nwas enough for me to see that Edith was surely, though unconsciously,\ndrawing toward me. If you had a rare plant, with a single bud on it,\nwould you thank the one who would pluck that bud open before its time\nfor blooming? And what flower is so delicate and sacred as a young\ngirl\u2019s heart? Besides, such a thought comes to a man also, when it\ncomes first, with a feeling of silence. To my mind, it would have been\nrude and indelicate to speak hastily. There was time, and, meanwhile,\nI guarded myself and her. Of course I saw what Rowan wanted and meant,\nand he also understood me; I am sure of that. I never dreamed, though,\nthat he would succeed. I was not prepared for that passion of pity and\ngratitude which Edith has shown for him. When I knew, last year, that\nhe had proposed, it was all I could do to control my anger. I knew\nthat he must have seen in her some instinctive recoil at first, and\nyet have appealed to her pity. He did not leave her free to choose. I\ndo not say that he realized that. He is an honest, noble-souled\nfellow, and he loves her deeply; but he lacks a certain fineness which\nshould have told him when urging was proper, and when it was coarsely\nselfish. I am willing to admit that it may have been only a mistake on\nhis part; but people who make mistakes have to suffer by them, and, if\nthey are not to blame, no one else is. I, too, made a mistake then,\nmother, and I have suffered for it. I had a thought of saying to\nEdith, \u2018Since you are to think of him as a suitor, think of me also,\nand choose between us.\u2019 Two motives prevented me. One was pride. I\nwould not enter into competition with him; and there I was selfish.\nBut the other was better. I saw that she was incredibly childish, and\nlooked upon his proposal rather as a request that she should go and\nlive with him and his mother, as she had lived with them before, than\nas a proposal that she should be his wife. I waited till she should\nperceive the difference, and this summer I thought that she was\nbeginning to. The night before he came, I wanted to speak to her. I\ncould hardly help it. I would have spoken but for him. But no, I\nthought. Let her answer him fairly first. I supposed I knew what that     592\nanswer would be; and when she came down-stairs the next morning to\nmeet him, I felt sure that it was to refuse him. I stood in the entry\nwhen she passed, and she knew that I was there, but would not look at\nme. She was very pale, I saw, and I thought it was for his sake. It\nseems it was for her own sake. No matter what I felt when I heard the\nwords with which they met. I went away, you know; I did not choose to\nmake a scene. When I came back, I had made up my mind to speak to him\nclearly, and as friendly as I could, and ask that he should give her\nback her promise, and leave her free to choose again. He would have\ndone it, mother; I am sure he would. Had he been too loverlike, I\nshould have made no delay; but, as it was, I thought best to wait till\nhis visit was over. You could scarcely expect me to be perfectly cool\nand reasonable always. Under the circumstances, I think that I have\nshown as much fairness as any one has a right to require of me. I\nmeant to see him last night, after the girls had come home--went to\nthe sail with that intention. But he made me angry at starting. He\nstood there, and sang that ballad from _Le Misanthrope_,\n\n          \u2018_Si le roi m\u2019avoit donn\u00e9_\u2019\n\n--sang it before _me_, and with such an air of triumph and certainty\nas made me feel anything but pitiful toward him for a little while.\nEdith was offended, too. I saw her color with resentment. \u2018_Ma mie!_\u2019\nIt was too public a claiming. When we came back--you know what a night\nit was, mother.\u201d Carl stopped, his face growing very red. \u201cThere are\nsome things not easy to tell,\u201d he said.\n\nMrs. Yorke put her arm around him, and drew his head to her bosom.\n\n\u201cNot even to your own mother, dear?\u201d she whispered, with her cheek\nresting on his hair. \u201cIt was my heart that taught yours to beat,\nCarl.\u201d\n\nIn that sweet confessional, he went on with his story. \u201cIt was such a\nscene as gives one that faint swaying of the brain that just shows the\npoints in our prudent resolutions. The moonlight, the music, the air,\nthe water, our very motion, were intoxicating. And Edith was there,\nand so beautiful!--an Undine, drooping over the boat-side, as though\nshe might any moment slip into the water, and disappear, if I did not\nstay her. I sang what I would have said. I called her, and she turned\nto me!\u201d\n\nCarl lifted his head, caught his mother\u2019s hands, and kissed them\njoyfully, then stood up before her with an air as triumphant as Dick\nRowan\u2019s own. \u201cThe time had come, and she was mine!\u201d he exclaimed.\n\u201cEdith belongs to me, mother!\u201d\n\nFor the moment, everything else was forgotten; and the mother forgot,\ntoo, till she saw his face cloud over.\n\n\u201cPoor fellow!\u201d said Carl, and knelt on the hassock again. \u201cMy heart\naches for him. When he saw Edith look at me, he fainted. It seems\ncruel to be so happy at such a cost. I went up to Hester\u2019s, last\nnight, to see him, but he was not there, and it was too late to go to\nthe ship. I would have borne any reproach from him. I would have been\npatient, and have explained everything to him. I think, mother, that I\ncould even have made a friend of him. He is generous. But it is too\nlate now.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou must go away at once, Carl,\u201d Mrs. Yorke said presently. \u201cIt is\nthe only proper thing to do. The family are pledged to Mr. Rowan, and,\ntill all is settled between him and Edith, you must have no intercourse\nwith her here. My position is one of great delicacy. I cannot even        593\nadvise Edith.\u201d\n\nWhile they talked, Edith had risen, and written two letters, one to\nDick Rowan, the other to Father Rasle. Both were short, the former\nonly a line.\n\n\u201cYou have no right to treat me so,\u201d she wrote. \u201cIf you go away without\nseeing me, never call yourself my friend again!\u201d\n\nIt seemed hard; but she had said to herself: \u201cIf he leaves me here\nwith Carl, I shall not be able to be true to him.\u201d\n\nShe dressed herself to go out and post these letters, and had just\ncome down-stairs, when she met Carl in the entry. She stopped abruptly\nat sight of him, and a deep crimson mantled her face as she waited for\nhim to let her pass.\n\nIt was a new blush for Edith, for she knew why she blushed. But the\nSpartan spirit he had admired in the child was not dead, and she was\nherself the next moment. She bade him a quiet \u201cGood-morning, Carl!\u201d\nand was passing on, when he asked to see her in the parlor.\n\n\u201cCertainly!\u201d she said, too proud to shrink.\n\nCarl smiled as he held the door open for her to pass, and closed it\nafter them. He was pleased with her dignity.\n\n\u201cI have been talking with my mother,\u201d he said, \u201cand she tells me that\nI must go away immediately. Do you agree with her?\u201d\n\nPossibly she had seen, and misunderstood his smile, for she chose to\nbe very high with him. \u201cI do not know why you should go,\u201d she said\ncoldly.\n\n\u201cShall I tell you why it seemed to us that I should?\u201d he asked.\n\nHer look changed at the tone of his voice, which seemed reproachful.\nWhy should she assume with him what was not true? When had he ever\nshown himself unworthy of her confidence?\n\n\u201cNo, Carl,\u201d she said, \u201cyou need not tell me, and you must say nothing\nto me that you would not say to a married woman. I trust you, Carl.\nYou have always been honorable. You are very dear to me, and I trust\nyou perfectly. It is best that you should go.\u201d\n\nThe last words were spoken rather faintly, and she had turned from\nhim, and opened the door.\n\n\u201cI shall go to Boston,\u201d he said, \u201cand stay there. In a few weeks you\nwill all come up, and I shall see you.\u201d\n\nShe stood in the door now, with her face half turned, and her forehead\nresting against the door-frame, so that he saw only her profile. And,\nso leaning, as though from faintness, she put her hand back, and held\nout her letters to him, and he took them.\n\n\u201cRead them both,\u201d she said, \u201cand mail them for me. And, Carl, I shall\nnot see you again before you go. And\u201d--she stopped, as though her\nvoice had failed her.\n\n\u201cI will not ask you to,\u201d he said.\n\n\u201cAnd, afterward,\u201d she went on, \u201cI shall not see you in Boston. If you\nare at home, I shall go to stay with Dick\u2019s mother.\u201d\n\nShe did not look round again, but went up-stairs quickly, and shut\nherself into her room. It is not for us to intrude in that privacy\nwherein a young heart fought its first battle.\n\nNo one saw her that day; but the next morning she came out, and went\nabout her usual employments, much in her usual manner. Whether, like\nthat Russian empress, she was \u201ctoo proud to be unhappy,\u201d or she had\nbeen soothed by that trust in God which makes every yoke easy and every   594\nburden light, or the elasticity of youth made continued pain seem\nimpossible, we do not pretend to say. Human motives are not always\neasy to be read by human eyes.\n\nEverybody tried to act as though nothing were the matter, and there\nwas enough for all to do. Many things had to be planned and arranged\nin preparation for their leaving Seaton, and Edith had her own\nbusiness to attend to. There were the Pattens needing double care\nsince they were so soon to lose her; and the Catholic school to visit,\nthat being permitted now; and a great deal of shopping to be done for\nher little flock of pensioners.\n\nWithin a fortnight came a letter from Carl to his mother, taken up\nchiefly with business details. But he wrote: \u201cI called yesterday on\nMrs. Williams to ask for her son. He was not at home, and I have not\nseen him yet. He has given up his ship, for this voyage, to Captain\nCary.\u201d\n\nCarl could have added, but did not, that the call had not been a\npleasant one. Mrs. Williams had just seen Captain Cary, and gleaned\nfrom him all that he had thought best to tell, which was, merely, that\nthere seemed to be a slight misunderstanding between Dick and Edith.\nHer suspicions pointed at once to Carl, and she had not scrupled to\nexpress them to him when he came to her house.\n\n\u201cI am sorry not to see Mr. Rowan,\u201d he had said, when he got a chance,\nignoring her accusations and reproaches; and, with that, had taken a\nceremonious leave.\n\n\u201cA pretty mother-in-law for Edith!\u201d was his conclusion.\n\nA few days after came a letter from Mrs. Williams to Edith. It was\nwhat might have been expected from her. Dick had not been to see his\nmother; was stopping with a priest, and had refused to see her. What\nhad Edith and those proud Yorkes done to her son, that he gave up\neverything and everybody, and went to hide himself in a Catholic\npriest\u2019s house, instead of coming to his own home?\n\nPoor Dick! could he have foreseen that such a letter would be written,\nhe would have sacrificed himself a good deal in order to prevent it.\n\nEdith dropped the letter at her feet after reading it, and said, not\nfor the first time since Carl went away, \u201cOh! that Father Rasle would\ncome!\u201d\n\nAs she said it, and for a moment let slip the leash that held her\nhidden feelings, one could see that, however calm she might have been\noutwardly, there had been an inward gnawing all the time. A smile and\nbright words can mask a good deal. When she dropped them, there was\nvisible a whiteness about the mouth, shadows under the eyes, and even\na thinning of the cheeks--the work of that short time.\n\nHearing her aunt\u2019s voice at the chamber-door asking admittance, Edith\ncaught the letter up again, and her self-control with it.\n\nMrs. Yorke came in with an air of quiet decision, and took a seat by\nher niece. \u201cI saw the outside of your letter, my dear girl, and know\nwhom it was from,\u201d she said; \u201cand I have no intention of allowing you\nto be killed by others, or to kill yourself. I understand and respect\na mother\u2019s feelings, Edith, and I respect the obligation of a promise.\nBut there are common sense and justice to be taken into account.\nFeelings, and, especially, the feelings of a young person who has\nscarcely learned to know herself, are not to be weighed and measured,     595\nlike iron and lumber, and stored away, and left unchanged, till called\nfor. You know, my dear, that I have a great affection for Mr. Rowan,\nand would do him no unkindness nor injustice, do you not?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou were very kind to him, aunt,\u201d Edith replied quietly. \u201cI am not\nafraid of anything that you will say or do.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou need not be,\u201d Mrs. Yorke said. \u201cI will not ask you if you have\nlearned to think that promise of yours a hasty one; but there are\ncertain points which I wish to insist upon. They are of general\napplication. Honor does not require that one should keep a bad\npromise. The fault, if fault there be, is in the making, not the\nbreaking. Also, a woman cannot make a worse promise than one to marry\na man whom she does not love. Many very good and pious people will\ntell you that esteem is enough, and that you will grow to love your\nhusband after a time. That is false. You may learn to endure him, but\nit will be after all the bloom is wiped from your feelings, and love\nand delicacy both are dead in you. Let no one make you believe that\nyour feelings are romantic folly. Believe, rather, that your adviser\nis coarse, though honest. One other dictum: there is no favor, nor\nobligation, nor affection which a man can confer on you, for which\nyour hand is not too high a price to pay. Give gratitude, affection,\neven service, but not yourself. Do not sell your hand for any price:\nit should be a free gift. This is all that I can pronounce positively\nupon. For the rest, do not act hastily and without advice; for, aside\nfrom the question of your personal good, you might bitterly wrong some\none else. If you have been hasty, it is a pity; but that cannot be\nhelped now, and should not be too deeply mourned. There must have been\nsome doubt in Mr. Rowan\u2019s mind that you did not know what you were\npromising, for his first word to you was, \u2018Are you willing, Edith?\u2019\nYour answer was, \u2018I am more than willing.\u2019 If you deceived him then,\nunconsciously, from a loving and generous feeling, it was pardonable.\nBut do not deceive him nor yourself again. He deserves from you a\nperfect frankness, and he has too fine a nature to take your hand if\nit is reluctant.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut, Aunt Amy,\u201d Edith said, after a moment\u2019s thought, \u201cif a woman,\nout of gratitude, and from an utter impossibility of allowing herself\nto give such pain to a friend, should promise never to marry any one\nelse, would that be right?\u201d\n\n\u201cA man worthy of inspiring such a resolution would not accept the\npromise,\u201d was the reply; \u201cand the woman has no right to make it. But\nif she should offer to wait till he is reconciled, that might be\nsoothing to both. Is there anything else you wish to say?\u201d\n\n\u201cNothing now, thank you, aunt. You are very kind.\u201d\n\nThis conversation soothed Edith; but, still, she returned to her\nwishing for Father Rasle; not entirely for his own sake, though that\nwas much, but because her need of confession and communion had become\na great longing.\n\nHer wish was destined to be speedily gratified; for the very next day,\nwhen Mr. Yorke came home to dinner, he brought his niece a letter from\nthe priest.\n\nShe read it immediately, in presence of the family, and her face\nbrightened. \u201cHow delightful!\u201d she exclaimed. \u201cHe will say Mass here\nnext Sunday. He is to come Saturday, that is, the day after to-morrow\nHe sends his regards to you all. Let no one know that he is coming, he    596\nwrites, but Miss Churchill, and Mr. and Mrs. Kent, at whose house he\nwill stop. There will be time enough to notify the people when he has\narrived. How glad they will be! That was a letter worth bringing,\nUncle Charles!\u201d\n\nLooking up with her smile of thanks, she saw his face clouded. \u201cIs\nthere any trouble?\u201d she asked anxiously.\n\n\u201cIf he had come while Carl, and Rowan, and Captain Cary were here, I\nshould have been better pleased,\u201d Mr. Yorke replied evasively. \u201cHe\nhas, however, the right to come whenever he chooses. Answer his letter\nto-day, Edith, and invite him to stop with us.\u201d\n\n\u201cDear Uncle Charles!\u201d murmured Edith, and glanced enquiringly at her\naunt.\n\n\u201cTell him, for me, that we should all be very happy to have him as a\nguest,\u201d said Mrs. Yorke.\n\nA smiling nod from Melicent and from Clara confirmed this assertion.\n\n\u201cDear me!\u201d Edith sighed out, wiping her eyes, \u201cI do think that you are\nthe most beautiful people I ever knew.\u201d\n\nThey all laughed at her way of saying it, and the little cloud\ndisappeared. Mr. Yorke did not think it best to tell them that the\nKnow-Nothings had called a public meeting for the next evening. There\nhad been no such meeting for several months, and this might not be of\nany consequence.\n\nThe invitation was written, and sent, and on Saturday morning the\nanswer came, only a few hours preceding Father Rasle.\n\nHe thanked them for their kindness, but found it necessary to decline\ntheir invitation. He must be where all the Catholics could come to\nhim, bringing their infants to be baptized, and going to confession\nthemselves. Besides the distance, he could not think of subjecting\ntheir house to such a visitation, which was likely to continue till\nlate in the evening. His flock needed every moment of his time.\n\nBut, meanwhile, between the letter and its answer, the public meeting\nhad taken place, and it had been of consequence.\n\n                          TO BE CONTINUED.\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n                     THE NEW \u201cOUTSPOKEN STYLE.\u201d\n\n          We looked for dewy flower, and sunny fruit:--\n          He serves us up the dirt that feeds the root.\n                                                    AUBREY DE VERE.\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n             POPULAR OBJECTIONS TO PAPAL INFALLIBILITY.                   597\n\n\nI have read carefully, my dear Philo, your very welcome letter, and\ncordially reciprocate the kind feelings it expresses. It has recalled\nour early friendship, which, with me, at least, has never been\nforgotten or diminished. I see, from your observations on the recent\ndefinition of the Papal Infallibility by the Council of the Vatican,\nthat you still think as we both thought in our school-boy days, when\nwe wondered what sort of people Catholics must be to believe that a\nman could be infallible, to take their faith from a man called the\nPope, and to obey and even worship him, as we were told, as God. We\nwere then in some measure excusable for supposing that they must be\nexceedingly stupid and destitute of reason and of every grain of\ncommon sense; for neither of us had then ever seen a Catholic, and\nknew nothing of their faith or worship except what our Protestant\nmasters, who held them to be no better than the heathen, told us; but\nare you, my dear Philo, equally excusable for thinking now as you did\nthen? Have you had no opportunity of correcting the error into which\nwe were both led?\n\nYou say, \u201cThe Council, by its decree defining the Pope when teaching\nthe universal church to be infallible or exempt from error in all\nmatters pertaining to faith and morals, makes the Pope God, clothes\nhim with the incommunicable attributes of the Divinity, and\nconsequently requires us to reverence and worship him as God.\u201d Are you\nnot a little hasty in this conclusion? You tell me that you believe in\nthe plenary inspiration and consequent infallible authority of the\nScriptures of the Old and New Testaments; you then, of course, believe\nin God and the supernatural order, or that Christian faith is\nsupernaturally revealed to man, and recorded in a book called the\nBible. But through what medium was the revelation made and recorded?\nCertainly through men who spoke or wrote as they were moved by the\nHoly Ghost, or what they were taught by our Lord himself, and enabled\nby the Spirit to commit truthfully and without error to writing. All\nthis, you tell me, you believe and hold.\n\nNow, were these inspired penmen, prophets, apostles, and evangelists\neach God, or clothed with the incommunicable attributes of the\nDivinity? You do not believe it. Why, then, does the declaration of\nthe Pope\u2019s infallibility declare him to be God? The sacred penmen, you\nbelieve, were infallible in what they wrote, and yet without becoming\nGod, or ceasing to be men; why may not the Pope, then, be infallible\nwithout being God, or ceasing to be a man like you and me? Do you say\nthe sacred writers were infallible by the inspiration of the Holy\nGhost, not by nature? Well, do Catholics pretend that the Pope is\ninfallible by nature, or otherwise than through the supernatural\nassistance of the Holy Ghost protecting him from error in teaching the\nfaith taught by the prophets and apostles? I am not aware that they\ndo.\n\nCatholics, I am told, make a distinction between divine inspiration\nand divine assistance. The prophets and apostles were divinely            598\ninspired to reveal truth; the Pope, according to Catholics, is\ndivinely assisted to teach infallibly the truth revealed through the\nprophets and apostles, or as taught to the apostles by our Lord\nhimself while he was yet with them. Now, if the inspiration which\nrendered the prophets and apostles infallible in revealing the truth\nwhich was hitherto hidden did not clothe them with the incommunicable\nattributes of God, how can you pretend that the assistance of the\nSpirit to teach infallibly what God revealed through them, which is\nfar less, makes the Pope God, or clothes his nature with the\nattributes of God? If more did not do it in their case, how can less\ndo it in his?\n\nYou say, \u201cAll men are fallible, and no man can teach infallibly.\u201d All\nmen are fallible, it is true, in their own nature; but that no man by\nsupernatural inspiration and assistance can teach infallibly, neither\nyou nor I believe. We both hold, for instance, that St. Peter was a\nman, and yet that he was an infallible teacher of the word of God. We\nhold the same of St. Paul, of St. John, of St. Matthew, of St. Mark,\nand of St. Luke. Say you they were infallible not by their natural\nendowments, but only through the supernatural external assistance of\nthe Holy Ghost? But Catholics, if I understand them, hold the Pope to\nbe infallible not by nature or by his own natural powers, but only by\nthe supernatural assistance of the Holy Ghost. Grant the supernatural\nassistance of the Holy Ghost, and there is no more difficulty in\nbelieving the Pope is infallible in his teachings than in believing,\nas you and I do, that St. Peter and St. Paul were infallible in\nteaching the revelation of God, whether by word or letter.\n\nDo you not, my dear Philo, confound, in the case of the Popes,\ninfallibility with omniscience, and assume that the Vatican Council,\nin declaring the Pope infallible in matters pertaining to faith and\nmorals, has actually declared him to be omniscient, and therefore God?\nThis is a mistake: first, because the infallibility declared is not\nuniversal; and, second, because the infallibility declared is\nsupernatural and by divine assistance and protection. The Pope is\ndeclared to be infallible only when he is teaching the universal\nchurch faith and morals, and in condemning the errors repugnant\nthereto, and even then only by supernatural assistance and protection\nof the Holy Ghost. The Pope, as a man, is no more infallible than\nother men: he is infallible only in exercising his function of\nuniversal doctor, or teacher of the whole church, and, as this is by\nthe Holy Ghost, the infallibility, like omniscience itself, pertains\nto God, not to him as a man, and is attached to his function, not to\nhis person. If our Lord, who is perfect God as well as perfect man,\nhas appointed him to the office of universal teacher, and promised him\nthe assistance and protection of the Spirit, there is no difficulty in\nbelieving him infallible, even if his personal knowledge should turn\nout to be no greater than yours or mine. The Pope is simply guided by\nthe Spirit to the truth already revealed and deposited with the\nchurch, and, for the most part, at least, contained in the Holy\nScriptures, and is simply protected from error in declaring it.\n\nIndeed, my dear Philo, Catholics claim no more for the Pope than our\nold Presbyterian parson claimed for himself and for each and every\nindividual of the regenerate or true people of God. He taught us, as\nyou well know, that the regenerate soul is guided by the Spirit into      599\nall truth, and protected from all error, at least as to essentials.\nSome, perhaps most Protestants, go farther than this, and claim to\nhave an infallible authority for their faith in the Bible interpreted\nby private judgment, and therefore claim for private judgment pretty\nmuch the same infallibility that the Council of the Vatican claims for\nthe Pope. Either, then, all regenerate souls, nay, all men, if\nProtestants are right, are each God, or else the declaration of the\nCouncil does not, actually or virtually, declare the Pope to be God,\nor anything more or less than a man supernaturally assisted by the\nHoly Ghost to perform the duties of the office to which the Council\nholds he is supernaturally appointed by Him who has all power in\nheaven and earth, and is King of kings and Lord of lords.\n\nYou say, \u201cThe supposition of an infallible Pope is repugnant to the\nrights and activity of the mind.\u201d I do not see it. The human mind can\nhardly be said to have any rights in presence of its Creator. If any\nright it has, it is the right to be governed by the word of God alone,\nand not to be held subject to any human authority or opinions of men.\nMy mind is outraged when it is subjected to the fallible opinions of\nmen, and obliged to hold them as truth, when I have no adequate\nauthority for believing that they are not erroneous. How then its\nrights can be denied by its being furnished with an infallible guide\nto the truth, to the word of God, its supreme law, instead of the\nwords of man, is what I do not exactly comprehend, and I do not\nbelieve you can comprehend any better than I. An infallible authority\nlessens the activity of the mind in groping after truth, if you will;\nbut truth being the element of the mind, that for which it was created,\nand without which it can neither live nor operate at all, cannot very\nwell destroy its activity by being possessed. Does the possession of\ntruth leave no scope for mental activity? If so, what is to constitute\nthe beatitude of the blest in heaven? Your objection strikes me as\nabsurd; for the real activity of the mind is in knowing, appropriating,\nand using the truth to fulfil the purpose of our existence and to gain\nthe end for which God has made us.\n\nYou say, again, that \u201can infallible authority destroys man\u2019s free\nagency and takes away his moral responsibility.\u201d The intellect, you\nare aware, my dear Philo, if prescinded from the will, is not free. I\nam not free in regard to pure intellections. I cannot, if I would,\nbelieve that two concretes are five, or only three; and I am obliged\nto admit that the three angles of a triangle are equal to two right\nangles. I may refuse to turn my attention to one or another class of\nsubjects, but I see and judge as I must, not as I will or choose. Free\nagency and moral responsibility, therefore, attach to the will, not to\nthe intellect, and are enhanced in proportion to my knowledge or\nunderstanding of the truth. The authority teaching me infallibly the\ntruth, I am bound by the law of God to accept and obey. So far from\ndestroying free agency, it manifestly confirms it, and, instead of\ntaking away moral responsibility, raises it to the highest possible\npitch; for it leaves the mind without the shadow of an excuse for not\nbelieving. You forget, my dear Philo, that infallible authority\npresenting infallible truth is not only a command to the will, but the\nhighest possible reason to the understanding. But at any rate, the\nobjection is as valid against the infallibility of the Bible, asserted    600\nby Protestants, as against the infallibility of the Pope, asserted by\nCatholics.\n\nYou say, furthermore, \u201cThe claim of infallibility for the Pope is\nincompatible with civil and religious liberty. If the Pope is\ninfallible in all questions touching faith and morals, his authority\nis supreme, overrides all other powers, and subjects to him our whole\nlife, religious, moral, domestic, social, and political.\u201d But if so,\nwhat, then, if he is infallible? You forget that this is no more than\nProtestants themselves claim for the Bible. Do you admit that any\nstate, sovereign prince, head of a family, or individual has the\nright, in thought, word, or deed, to contradict or go counter to the\nlaw of God as contained in the infallible Bible? Do you not hold that\nevery one is subject in all things whatsoever to the infallible\nauthority of the Holy Scriptures? Well, how can the subjection of our\nwhole life--religious, moral, domestic, social, and political--to the\nauthority of an infallible book be less incompatible with civil and\nreligious liberty than its subjection to an infallible Pope? If the\nPope is really infallible, he can enjoin nothing in faith or morals\nnot enjoined by the law of God. Do you pretend that subjection to the\nlaw of God is incompatible with civil and religious liberty? If so,\nyou must say with Proudhon, \u201cGod is a tyrant, and you must either\nabolish God or give up the defence of liberty. Once admit God, and you\nmust admit the Catholic Church, Pope, and all.\u201d Now, I am not in the\nhabit, any more than Catholics are, of regarding God and liberty as\nantagonistic, the one to the other. I have always been accustomed to\nregard liberty not as freedom from all restraint, but as simply\nfreedom from all unjust restraint, or restraint not imposed by the law\nof God, which is the law of right and justice. His law is the basis,\nand obedience to it and it alone is the necessary condition, of all\ntrue liberty in any and every department of life. Why, then, should\nthe assertion of the infallible authority of the Pope to declare the\nlaw of God, which you and I both hold binds all men and nations, be\nincompatible with liberty? The law of God is just, and the measure or\nstandard of justice, and justice is the foundation and guarantee of\nliberty. Your objection is not well taken.\n\nWhat you really object to, my dear Philo, is not, it strikes me, an\ninfallible, but a fallible Pope claiming to be infallible. But suppose\nthe Pope to be infallible in the sense defined by the Council, it is\nabsurd to object to him as dangerous to liberty, civil or religious,\nbecause the Holy Ghost prevents him from declaring anything to be the\nlaw of God which is not so, and because, being assisted by the same\nHoly Ghost, he is always able to decide infallibly what that law does\nor does not require; and as long as the law as he declares it is\nobserved, no one can be subjected to an unjust authority, oppressed,\nor deprived of any of his rights.\n\n\u201cYou concede,\u201d you say, \u201cthe supremacy of the law of God, and that all\nlaws which contravene it, or are not transcripts of it, are violences,\nnot laws, and are null and void from the beginning; but this is\nsomething very different from subjecting all individuals and the whole\nsecular order to the authority of an infallible Pope upheld by the\nwhole hierarchy, and backed by a huge corporation that extends over\nthe whole world.\u201d But where is the difference, if the Pope, by divine\nassistance and protection, is really infallible? The Pope, if\ninfallible, can be so only from the supernatural appointment and          601\nassistance of God as his vicar, and, if infallible, he can declare and\napply only what is the law of God or authorized by the law of God. You\nare wrong, then, old friend, in objecting to the infallible authority;\nfor that is what is needed to establish the divine order in human\naffairs, and to make the church really the kingdom of God on earth.\nYour objection and your reasoning are misdirected, and should be\ndirected to prove that Catholics assert infallibility for a Pope who,\nin fact, is not infallible, but fallible.\n\nYou and all Protestants claim infallible authority for the Bible read\nand interpreted by each individual for himself, or, rather, by each\nsect for itself. Unless this interpretation is by an infallible\nauthority, which it confessedly is not, you have in the Bible\npractically only a fallible authority, yet claim to have an infallible\nauthority; and hence you claim and seek to enforce in the name of the\nBible your own very fallible and contradictory opinions or theories.\nYou are guilty, then, of precisely the offence you charge against\nCatholics, that of claiming infallibility for a fallible authority,\nand of which it is possible Catholics are not guilty, and, if the Pope\nbe infallible, not only are not, but cannot be guilty. You have, as I\nhave said--even conceding, as I do, the Bible in its true meaning to\nbe infallible--practically no infallible authority. You have no\ninfallible authority to determine and declare the law of God contained\nin the Bible. You have not the law itself, but only your view of it,\nwhich is only a human view, and therefore fallible. To subject men to\na mere human view or to a mere human authority, I need not say, is\nintolerable despotism; and hence your Protestantism is incompatible\neither with civil or religious liberty, for all men are born equal,\nand no man or body of men has, except by divine appointment or\ndelegation, any dominion over another.\n\nHence, as you and I both know, there is no solid basis or security for\nliberty under Protestantism. If Protestants grow indifferent and do\nnot attempt to govern in the name of the Bible, there may be license,\nanarchy, a moral and political chaos; but if they are in earnest, and\nattempt to enforce the authority of the Bible as they understand it,\nthey only enforce their own view of it, and, consequently, can\nestablish only a spiritual despotism either in church or state. In\nGeneva, Scotland, in every state in Europe that became Protestant, in\nVirginia, in Massachusetts, in Connecticut, the dominant sect, you\nknow, in early times established an odious tyranny, and would tolerate\nno opinion hostile to its own. Owing to certain reminiscences of\nprinciples inculcated in pre-Reformation times, and to the growing\nindifference of Protestants to their religion at the time our republic\nwas instituted, and still more to the dissensions among Protestants\nthemselves, civil and religious liberty were recognized here in the\nUnited States, but it had and has no basis and no guarantee, except in\nparchment constitutions, not worth the parchment on which they are\nengrossed, and which the people may alter at will; and even now the\nEvangelical sects are trying to unite their forces to abolish\nreligious liberty, without which civil liberty is an empty name. The\nfounder of Methodism was no friend to civil liberty, and he proved\nhimself the bitter enemy of religious liberty by creating, or doing\nmore than any other man to create, the shameful Gordon riots in\nEngland in 1780. Let the Methodists become, as they bid fair to\nbecome, the dominant sect in the country, and able to command a           602\nmajority of the votes of the American people, and both civil and\nspiritual despotism will be fastened on the country, for Methodism has\nonly a human authority.\n\nThe sort of security Protestantism gives to religious liberty may be\nseen in the proceedings of the general government against the Mormons.\nIt does not interfere with their religion: it pretends it only\nenforces against them the laws of the Union--laws, by the way, made\nexpressly against them. All the government needs to suppress any\nreligion or religious denomination it does not like is to pass laws\nprohibiting some of its practices on the plea that they are contrary\nto morality or the public good, and then take care to execute them.\nQueen Elizabeth held religious liberty sacred, and abhorred the very\nthought of persecuting Catholics. She only executed the laws against\nthem. She enacted a law enjoining an oath of supremacy, and making it\nhigh treason to refuse to take it, and which she knew every Catholic\nwas obliged in conscience to refuse to take; and then she could hang,\ndraw, and quarter them, not as Catholics, but as traitors. Her judges\nonly executed the laws of the realm against them. I have, as you well\nknow, no sympathy with the Mormons, and I detest their peculiar\ndoctrines and practices, but the principle on which the government\nproceeds against them would justify it, or any sect that could control\nit, in suppressing the church, and all Protestant sects even but\nitself.\n\nLaws in favor of liberty amount to nothing, for all laws may be\nrepealed. The Bible is no safeguard. Under it and by its supposed\nauthority, Catholics have suffered the most cruel persecutions; even\nwhen not deprived of life, they have been deprived of the common\nrights of men by Protestant governments led on by Protestant\nministers. Thus the Bible commands the extirpation of idolaters. But\nProtestants, by their private judgment, declared Catholics to be\nidolaters, and hence in the name of the Bible took from them their\nchurches, their schools, colleges, and universities, confiscated their\ngoods, and imprisoned them, exiled them, or cut their throats. The\npretence of legislating only in regard to morality avails nothing for\nreligious liberty; for morality depends on dogma, and is only the\npractical application of the great principles of religion to\nindividual, domestic, social, and political life. You cannot touch a\nmoral question without touching a religious question, for religion and\nmorality are inseparable; your only possible security for liberty is\nin having a divinely instituted authority that is infallible in faith\nand morals, competent to tell the state as well as individuals how far\nit may go, and where it must stop.\n\nYou object, finally, my dear Philo, that the assertion of the\ninfallibility of the Pope is incompatible with the assertion of the\nsovereignty of the people and the independence of secular government.\nThe people and all secular governments, you have conceded, are subject\nto the law of God. Neither the people nor secular governments are\nindependent of the divine law, and have only the authority it gives\nthem, and the freedom and independence it allows them. How can they\nlose any right or authority they have or can have by having the divine\nlaw, under which they hold, infallibly declared and applied? It is\nsingular, my old schoolfellow, that so acute, subtle, and so able a\nlawyer as I know you to be, should have the misfortune, as a\ntheologian, to object to the very thing you really wish to maintain,      603\nand which can alone save you from the evils you seek to avoid. Now,\nwhat it is necessary to know in order to determine the rights and\npowers of government, is to know precisely what in relation to\ngovernment the law of God--including both the natural law and the\nrevealed law, which are really only two parts of one and the same\ndivine law--ordains, what it prescribes, and what it forbids. This\nknowledge can only in part be derived through natural reason, because\nthe law is in part supernatural, and can be known only by faith: it\ncannot be derived with certainty from the Scriptures interpreted by\nour own fallible judgment or by any human authority: it can be\nobtained infallibly from the teaching and decisions of an infallible\nPope, if really infallible. The infallible Pope will give to the\npeople all the sovereignty they have under the law of God, and\nmaintain for civil government all the rights and powers, all the\nfreedom and independence of action, the law of God gives it. What more\ndo you want? What more dare you assert for civil government or for\npopular sovereignty? Would you put the people in the place of God, and\nraise the secular order above the spiritual, man above God? Certainly\nnot, at least not avowedly either to yourself or to others. Then, how\ncan you pretend the Papal infallibility is incompatible with the\nsovereignty of the people and the independence of civil government? Do\nyou want the line unsettled, and the law of God left undefined, and\nremitted, as you remit the Bible, to the private judgment of each\npeople or each government, to be interpreted by each for itself, and\nas it sees proper? But that were to make the divine law practically of\nno effect, and to leave each people and each government without any\nlaw but what it chooses to be to itself. It practically emancipates\nthe secular order from the law of God, and asserts complete civil\nabsolutism.\n\nThe fact is, my dear Philo, you and many others in your own minds\nregard liberty and authority as mutually hostile powers. It is the\nerror of the age, and hence we see the nations alternating between the\nmob and the despot, each hostile alike to liberty and authority. Both\nliberty and authority are founded in the divine order, and without\nrecognizing and conforming to that order neither can be maintained. To\nrestrain liberty by an authority that rests on a human basis alone is\nto destroy it; as to restrain authority by liberty not defined by the\nlaw of God, or by popular sovereignty to be defined by popular\nsovereignty, is to lose all authority, and to rush into anarchy and\nuniversal license. There is no true liberty and no legitimate\ngovernment independent of the divine order; consequently, none without\nan infallible authority to present and maintain it. The question is,\nHas God, or has he not, established an infallible authority to declare\nhis law?                Yours affectionately,\n                                              DAMIAN.\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n                     THE FOXVILLES OF FOXVILLE.                           604\n\n                       A TALE OF THE PERIOD.\n\n\n                                 I.\n\nAt a huge country-house, not many years ago, some few days after the\nclose of the Christmas and New Year\u2019s festivities, the usual family\ncircle, with one exception, met at the breakfast-table. A man on\nhorseback had just pulled up at the house-door with the family\nletter-bag from the nearest town. The letters and papers were handed\nto the head of the family, who glanced over the addresses with the\nquick eye of a practised man of business, and placed one of the\nletters on an empty plate reserved for the absent member of the party.\n\n\u201cOh! For Susy!\u201d exclaimed a young lady, who seemed put to her wits\u2019\nend to make herself still younger, for she was the elder daughter of\nthe house, past twenty-six, and disengaged. \u201cI should like to know\nwhom that\u2019s from! A gentleman\u2019s hand, I declare!\u201d And she eyed the\ncharacters with a searching scrutiny, but they would tell no more\ntales.\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t be so curious, Matilda. I shall recommend Susy to keep her\nletter a secret,\u201d said an obnoxious brother, by name Augustus, one\nyear the junior of the first speaker.\n\n\u201cYes! you would encourage her in every kind of deception, you would!\nShe is quite artful enough,\u201d answered Matilda. \u201cIf I were papa, I would\nsoon see who sends the letter. What can make Susy late, this morning?\nShe is invariably so regular.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, child!\u201d said a white-headed old gentleman, Mr. Foxville, the\nhappy father of Matilda, Augustus, and Susan, his stock of direct\ndescendants, and all told, \u201cI never meddle with other people\u2019s\nbusiness. Susy is a good girl, and she will let me have any news that\nmay interest me.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are quite right; but she has a duty to her mamma,\u201d said Mrs.\nFoxville, with a grand matronly air. \u201cPapa allows me to open all his\nletters, though he never opens mine: and that\u2019s as it should be. If\nSusy does not come down soon, as I am privileged, I will open the\nletter. It is a genteel hand, I perceive.\n\n\u201cWell, well,\u201d observed Mr. Foxville, \u201cpatience, patience! We can\nwait.\u201d\n\n\u201cShe is my child, Mr. Foxville,\u201d replied the matron.\n\n\u201cShall I fetch Susy down?\u201d asked Matilda, with curiosity fermenting\nwithin her.\n\n\u201cDo, my dear,\u201d said Mrs. Foxville, laboring under the same complaint,\nbut affecting more indifference.\n\nWith much nimbleness the sprightly Matilda dashed out of the room,\nhaving first made an attempt to carry off the letter.\n\n\u201cStop!\u201d cried Augustus, putting his hand on it. \u201cSuppose you bring        605\nSusy to the letter, and not the letter to Susy! Fair is fair,\u201d he\nadded, with something like distrust in the fair letter-carrier.\n\nIn a few seconds Matilda and Susy entered the room, the arm of the\nelder affectionately wound round the waist of the younger sister.\n\n\u201cAre you not well, Susy?\u201d asked Mr. Foxville kindly.\n\n\u201cPerfectly!\u201d replied Susy, giving her papa his morning kiss.\n\n\u201cThere is a letter for you,\u201d said the enviable father.\n\n\u201cThank you,\u201d answered Susy, and she slipt the letter unopened into a\nlittle dress pocket, coloring and tremulous as she did so.\n\n\u201cI could not wait like you for the news, Susy,\u201d said her mother\nfrankly, as she watched her daughter closely.\n\n\u201cI would not be so rude as to read letters before others,\u201d answered\nSusy.\n\n\u201cNot at all rude!\u201d observed Mrs. Foxville, with one of her grand airs.\n\u201cThere is nobody here but the family: that makes all the difference. I\nwould wish to make you sensible of that, my child. Etiquette should\nnot be pushed too far when we are _en famille_.\u201d\n\nThe last words were delivered with a deal of self-importance, as if\nshe had just solved a new problem of politeness and was vain of her\ndiscovery.\n\n\u201cOf course!\u201d cried Matilda. \u201cDo not hesitate, Susy. I should not. I\ncould not take matters so coolly. The letter may be from some dear,\ndear friend!\u201d\n\n\u201cTake my advice, Susy,\u201d said that horrible Augustus. \u201cBreakfast first,\nand dessert afterwards.\u201d\n\n\u201cDessert indeed! It may be some dreadful intelligence. So none of your\ninterference, Gussy!\u201d rejoined Matilda.\n\n\u201cThen I would not spoil my appetite; and my recommendation holds\ngood,\u201d pursued that provoking brother.\n\n\u201cAy! ay,\u201d said Foxville senior; \u201cyour breakfast first, girl.\u201d And this\nput an end to the dispute, for the old gentleman saw that Susy was\npained at the discussion.\n\n\n                                  II.\n\nIt was true, as Miss Matilda Foxville had observed, that her sister\nSusy was the most regular in that exemplary household whenever there\nwas a demand on her energies in domestic affairs, or on her good\nnature in diffusing happiness and cheerfulness around her. The fact\nthat she had deviated from her usual course into the exceptional\nirregularity referred to, naturally called for comment such as any\nstrange occurrence would provoke; and the uninitiated as naturally\npuzzled themselves with unsatisfactory conjectures. But the plain\ntruth was this: Susy\u2019s absence was caused by nothing less than a\nconsciousness that a particular letter would arrive for her that\nmorning. She imagined that she should betray less concern about the\nletter, and keep her nerves more under control, by an apparently\naccidental absence of a few minutes from the breakfast-table, than if\nshe ran the risk of being present at the opening of the post-bag, and\nof manifesting her expectation and her too probable excitement at its\nrealization.\n\nSusy had, as we have seen, only partially succeeded; but, under\nshelter of the timely command of her father, she managed to conceal a\ngreat deal of her uneasiness at the expense of a charge of indifference\ntoward her correspondents--a charge she was disposed to invite rather     606\nthan disprove.\n\nThis little ruse, however, she was unable to carry very much further;\nfor Matilda, more and more perplexed, and proportionably more curious,\nthan ever, became, after the morning meal, more endearing in both\nmanner and speech towards her sister than was customary with one who\ngenerally adopted the language of admonition or complaint. It was very\nclear that these famous time-honored weapons for eliciting obedience\nand respect would fail in the present instance; and Matilda had not\nspent twenty-six years of her valuable existence without acquiring an\namount of knowledge that led her to that certain conclusion. But\nwheedling and an implied solicitude for her sister\u2019s welfare were more\ninsidious and keener instruments to open the confidence-chest of the\nunsuspecting Susy.\n\n\u201cI hope you will have good news,\u201d began Matilda when the sisters were\nalone. Then she added, as if some sudden idea struck her, \u201cBut I\nforgot! I will leave you and come again presently, Susy dear; you\nwould like to read and answer your letter?\u201d\n\nWhat it was that Miss Matilda professed to have forgotten would puzzle\nmost men; but it was a phrase habitual to her, and coming from a\nperson of her experience, it probably conveyed all she intended to\nthose of her own sex who enjoyed her familiarity. Susy, whether she\nunderstood the form of expression or not, was attracted by her\nsister\u2019s winning ways and most unusual condescension, and was quite\nprepared to open her heart to her.\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t go, Till,\u201d she said, blushing. \u201cI have something to say to you.\u201d\n\n\u201cTo me!\u201d exclaimed the delighted Matilda with well-feigned surprise.\n\u201cPray tell me what it is!\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is the letter,\u201d said Susy.\n\n\u201cOh! that\u2019s quite private,\u201d pursued Matilda, \u201cif I might judge by your\nputting it aside unopened.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut there is confidence between sisters?\u201d\n\n\u201cMost undoubtedly. Would I not unbosom myself to you?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou shall, then, be the first to learn the news, but it must soon be\nfamily property,\u201d said Susy, opening the letter, and reading it as\nMatilda looked over her shoulder. \u201cI ought, perhaps, to show it to\npapa first,\u201d she added, as a glow diffused itself over her face and\nneck.\n\n\u201cYes; it is indeed matter for papa\u2019s consideration: it is meant for\nhim. But whom is it from?\u201d said Matilda, in a fever to see the name on\nthe last page, which Susy had not yet turned to.\n\n\u201cNathaniel Wodehouse!\u201d said Susy, in trembling accents, as she sank\ndown on a chair to support herself in her novel situation.\n\n\u201cThat trumpery fellow! faugh!\u201d exclaimed Matilda boldly. \u201cI would soon\nsettle his business. Let me pen you a reply, will you?\u201d\n\n\u201cMatilda! sister Till!\u201d cried Susy in amazement, and recalled to\nherself. \u201cHow often have I heard you say what a charming, handsome man\nhe is!\u201d\n\n\u201cI! I!\u201d said Matilda, ascending the gamut in her ejaculations. \u201cI call\nhim charming and handsome!\u201d Then, with tremendous emphasis inspired by\nrage, she added, \u201cNever!\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, then,\u201d followed up her merciless witness, roused by her\nsister\u2019s vain denial, \u201che _is_ charming and handsome! And you\nknow it.\u201d\n\n\n                                III.                                      607\n\nMr. Foxville was a retired butcher who had made a fortune, and still\ndid a little business on \u2018Change to keep his hand in, and preserve his\nmental faculties from rusting. Besides the newspaper, which many will\ncontend was his \u201cbest public instructor,\u201d he had not many intellectual\nresources; and as he allowed himself little recreation, he devoted a\ngreat deal of time to journal-reading and the study of stocks and the\nshare-list. Here was a fair amount of work for a busy mind; and very\nbusy was Mr. Foxville in keeping a sharp eye on his investments.\n\nBeing fond of a country life, he bought several acres of land when he\ngave up business; and he had built himself an unwieldy mansion, and\nwas erecting smaller houses and cottages at a respectful distance from\nhis own. This cluster of dwellings he proposed to call Foxville, while\nhis own big, special habitation he called Foxville House. The name was\nnot adopted without reflection, and more than one debate between\nhimself and wife.\n\nFoxville\u2019s patronymic was simply Fox. That did very well for business,\nbut it was deemed unsuited for higher exigencies. Foxtown was invented\nand discussed, but it gave no satisfaction. Was there anything\ndistinguished in Foxtown? Nothing! Husband and wife were one on that\npoint.\n\nAt length, Mrs. Fox bethought her of a French tutor to her girls, and\nthat excellent gentleman bore the name of Portville. Monsieur\nPortville was a very agreeable man, to ladies especially; and that\ncircumstance associated something pleasant with his name to the ear of\nMrs. Fox. It was a habit with Mr. Fox, who could not remember names,\nto put the cart before the horse in endeavoring to call names to his\nrecollection, and he always spoke of the Frenchman as Villeport. In\nfacetious moments he would reduce this again to Vile Port, maintaining\nthat this was the original name. Although it was by no means a\ncomplimentary cognomen, Mr. Fox had no intention of showing\ndisrespect, for he had a rough kind of regard for the tutor, and only\nvented a poor joke at his expense, deriving his inspiration perhaps\nfrom the remembrance of a compound beverage familiar to Fox in his\nyounger days in the country which had the honor of his birth. If\nPortville was euphonious, why not Foxville? Such was the argument of\nMrs. Fox, and that settled the question.\n\nMrs. Foxville was the daughter of a grocer, who had so many daughters\nthat all he could do for them was to make them a home and allow them a\nlimited portion for their wardrobe--totally insufficient, according to\ntheir unanimous opinion, for their position! Mrs. Foxville was the\noldest, and was the first to enter into wedlock. She would have\nscorned an alliance with a butcher, so superior did she think her\nfather\u2019s calling, though on what grounds she never clearly stated; but\nthe prosperity of young Fox proved a compensation strong enough to\nconvert a woman\u2019s uprising negative into a positive affirmative.\n\nThe correctness of the lady\u2019s judgment could not be questioned in the\ndays that lengthened Fox into Foxville. She continued, however, to\nregard herself as more than the equal of her husband; and she always\nspoke of my house, my family, my children Matilda, Augustus, and Susy,\nas if poor Foxville had no concern or partnership in the property.        608\nSometimes he would slip in \u2018our\u2019 in place of \u2018my,\u2019 and he always spoke\nin this manner himself, but both the correction or amendment and the\nexample had no effect on the \u2018singular\u2019 appropriation, which seemed,\nit may be supposed, to convey higher origin and standing than if\nlowered by a joint ownership.\n\nMiss Matilda Foxville\u2019s characteristics have sufficiently developed\nthemselves, and Augustus, beyond being a plague to his elder sister,\nhad no character at all. He was an existence, and little more; still,\nhe was not without importance as the heir of a goodly estate.\n\nFoxville House never failed to throw open its hospitable portals\nduring Christmas week, and, not many days before the receipt of Susy\u2019s\nletter, a large number of guests had found a warm welcome within them.\nNathaniel Wodehouse was invariably the life of these social\ngatherings, and in the estimation of the Misses Foxville evidently he\npossessed qualifications for the prominent part he took. He stood high\nin favor with Miss Matilda, there is no denying the fact. For him more\nthan for any other male thing, she chignoned, and painted, and got\nherself up in the best style of fashion. She nearly succeeded in\nreducing twenty-six to twenty by other than arithmetical rules. But\nwhat, after all, are twenty-six summers? No great span in the life of\na really handsome woman; yet, in Miss Matilda, so unpliable was her\ndisposition, and so set was her general deportment, that candor must\nadmit that the six years beyond twenty had produced a perceptible\ndifference. She made the best of them, however, for Nathaniel\nWodehouse.\n\nCan it be wondered at, therefore, that she thought he had some\nappreciative taste? He was charming and good-looking most certainly;\nand he was very gallant, as he ought to have been, to Miss Foxville.\nNo one invited him with more _empressement_ than Matilda did to\nrevisit Foxville House. Susy was shy and reserved; Matilda had\noutlived all that, and safely pronounced Nathaniel excellent company:\nso did Mrs. Foxville--so did Mr. Foxville. Augustus had no settled\nconviction on this head; and Susy was silent.\n\nEven when Matilda spoke to her under sisterly secrecy, and used the\nepithets which she subsequently wished to revoke, Susy committed\nherself no further than by an exclamation of \u201cDo you think so?\u201d\naccompanied by a smile of doubtful acquiescence. When, however,\nMatilda, repenting of her admission, boldly denied it, Susy, as we\nhave seen; held her to it unflinchingly.\n\nIt is sometimes good to come after others, and Scripture, politeness,\nand good sense forbid our presumptuously taking the best places. Susy\nenjoyed in this respect an advantage which nature had given her. She\nhad all the benefit of being eight years younger than her sister, for\nshe was at once the youngest, the prettiest, and the most amiable of\nthe Foxvilles. Nathaniel would have been blind indeed if he had not\nmade that discovery; and what that discovery led to, the intimated\ntenor of his letter has abundantly proved. One result, however, he had\nnot foreseen, and that was the burning jealousy it excited in the\nbosom of Matilda Foxville, although he _was_ prepared to incur her\ndispleasure.\n\n\n                                 IV.\n\nFoxville House always was in commotion when Matilda had a hand in it.     609\nWhen she was agitated, her agitation vibrated in every part of that\nspacious dwelling; and now she was stung to madness in such a way by\nSusy\u2019s taunt that she rushed about like a maniac on fire. It was her\nworst policy, but she had lost the rudder of her discretion, and she\ncast herself adrift on the surging waves of her own fury.\n\nFrom one apartment to another she flew in a whirlwind of passion in\nsearch of her mother, whom she would have found very near to Susy\u2019s\nroom if she had not darted downstairs with headlong precipitation.\nUp-stairs she flew again, and at length flounced into the room in\nwhich Mrs. Foxville was eagerly awaiting the issue of the consultation\nbetween her daughters.\n\n\u201cWhat has happened, Matilda?\u201d asked Mrs. Foxville. \u201cYour look startles\nme.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou will be startled!\u201d gasped Matilda.\n\n\u201cCalm yourself, my child, and tell at your leisure what is amiss,\u201d\nreplied the mother, her words being at variance with her feverish\nanxiety for the news.\n\n\u201cWhat do you think, mamma? Nathaniel Wodehouse has had the audacity to\npropose to Susy!\u201d\n\n\u201cNathaniel Wodehouse! Without means! A beggar! I shall put a stop to\nthat. No genteel poverty for me or either of my girls!\u201d\n\n\u201cI was sure that you would save poor Susy! What is the use of his\ngentility with nothing to support it?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou always were sensible, Matilda; and no doubt Susy is wise enough\nto see the matter in the same light.\u201d\n\n\u201cThere you mistake, mamma; Susy is such a weak fool! The silly thing\nis over head and ears in love with him. She idolizes him! It is\npositively awful--wicked!\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! that\u2019s it, is it? And without asking my opinion? Deliberate\ndisobedience! Let me see her this moment. I must talk to her!\u201d\n\nForthwith the mother and elder daughter sought out the unfortunate\nSusy, and joined in giving her one of those \u2018talkings to,\u2019 as they\ntermed them, which only ladies can inflict on one another. Susy let\nfall a tear or two, made very short replies, for she could scarcely\nsqueeze a word in, and bore her rebukes with exemplary patience,\ncontenting herself with asserting that she would comply with the\nrequest of the letter and lay it before her father.\n\n\u201cLet me catch you showing the letter to your father this day!\u201d\nexclaimed Mrs. Foxville indignantly.\n\n\u201cTo-morrow will do,\u201d replied Susy. \u201cPapa must see it.\u201d\n\nIt was then agreed that Susy should reserve the letter for her\nfather\u2019s perusal next day, on Mrs. Foxville consenting to take the\nblame for delay on her own shoulders; and it was finally stipulated\nthat both the elder Foxville and Augustus should be kept in the dark\nfor the next twenty-four hours.\n\nMrs. Foxville did not, however, consider herself bound by this\ncontract, though not the least important of the high contracting\nparties. In fact, she intended to turn the interval to what she deemed\nthe best account. Accordingly, she seized the opportunity which Mrs.\nCaudle, as depicted by Douglas Jerrold, devoted to curtain lectures,\nand plainly gave Mr. Foxville to understand that \u201cshe wouldn\u2019t have\nit,\u201d meaning the match in question, for she stated she knew that\nWodehouse was as poor as a church mouse. \u201cHe was all outside show,\u201d\nshe said--\u201call flimsy, with no backbone.\u201d She added that \u201cthat            610\nwouldn\u2019t do for her girls,\u201d and, having warned her husband at great\nlength and with great force, she concluded her lecture by observing,\n\u201cAnd now you know your duty to my child, and I shall expect you to\nperform it.\u201d\n\n\u201cOur child, my dear--our dear Susy is entitled to the best counsel I\ncan give her.\u201d\n\n\u201cI knew you would take her part!\u201d cried Mrs. Foxville. \u201cDear Susy,\nindeed! She is a very bad Susy. I would have you, Mr. Foxville,\nrespect a mother\u2019s feelings!\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, well; yes, yes, to be sure I will,\u201d replied the husband, who\nwas as valiant as an ox and nearly as strong in muscle, but was now in\ndread of a second lecture. \u201cI will, you may depend upon it.\u201d\n\nWith this promise on his lips he composed himself to sleep, after\nhaving first noticed its soothing effect--for which he took credit to\nhimself--on his partner.\n\nThe next day, Mr. Foxville had some conversation alone with Susy. A\nlittle kindness soon reassured her, and, like a true-hearted daughter,\nshe did not attempt to conceal her attachment to Nathaniel from her\nfather. She opened her mind to him, and promised to abide by his\nadvice; and on the question of questions--that of fortune--she\nprofessed her belief that Nathaniel Wodehouse would not be found in\nthe forlorn condition in which her mamma and sister, in spite of her,\nhad insisted. She acknowledged that she had no proof of this but her\nlover\u2019s word, which, she said, Matilda had derided. Her lover\u2019s word!\nthat was all--sufficient for Susy! But she approved of her father\u2019s\nfully satisfying himself on this point, as a duty to his family and to\nher.\n\nThere are several ways of giving advice. It is a favorite plan with\nsome to administer it as they would physic, and the more nauseous it\nis, the more they seem to like administering it; and they would\nquarrel with their best friend for not taking it. Even among the more\nconsiderate, not every one has the modesty not to have his equanimity\ndisturbed by having his advice asked and then disregarded. Mr.\nFoxville was not one of either of these classes. He might allowably be\na little more positive in counselling his own daughter, but\npractically he followed in her regard his usual method, heedless of\nall the admonitions of his better half. That method was to pile up all\nthe pros and cons which occurred to him on both sides of a question,\nand leave his client very much to his own decision. In effect, this\nwas to offer no advice at all, but the course of proceedings looked\ngrave and offended no one, while it enabled him to remain true to his\nmaxim of never meddling in other people\u2019s business. The only\nstumbling-block with Mr. Foxville, in the present instance, was a\nsuitable position for his daughter, and that he would look into as a\nmatter of imperative necessity. The rest he would leave to those most\nvitally interested, after his usual formal statement of all the\ndisadvantages, which always came first, and then the advantages of the\ncase under consideration. Susy was accordingly much comforted by her\nfather\u2019s good sense and feeling, instead of being cowed and\nheart-broken as Mrs. Foxville and Matilda had expected to see her.\n\n\u201cYou are a perfect fool!\u201d said Mrs. Foxville to her husband on\nobserving Susy\u2019s cheerful face after the _t\u00eate-\u00e0-t\u00eate_. \u201cYou have\nnot the nerve to manage my child! I must take her in hand, poor noodle    611\nthat she is. Ha! she is just like you. There\u2019s a nice pair for you!\u201d\n\nMr. Foxville attached little importance to these disparaging remarks,\nwith the like of which he was familiar; but he invariably did things\nhis own way, and left consequences to take care of themselves. He\nresponded, therefore, good-humoredly:\n\n\u201cNot too hasty, my dear! I shall see Nathaniel Wodehouse, whether you\napprove of it or not. That is all I have to say.\u201d\n\nAnd Foxville kept his word, for he resolutely refrained from opening\nhis lips to renew the discussion. Not so Mrs. Foxville. She had a very\ngreat deal to say, but eventually wound up by the following menace:\n\n\u201cBeware how you ruin my child! You shall answer for it. I\u2019ll let you\nknow whether I am to be nobody in my own house!\u201d\n\nThe tremendous ferment which shook the Foxvilles at length began to\nact upon Augustus. That young man had his own view of Susy\u2019s conduct.\n\n\u201cI tell you what, Susy,\u201d said he, \u201cWodehouse is no gentleman. He is a\nsneak. Didn\u2019t he get the better of me in an examination before old Dr.\nPlayfair, and when I challenged him to fight it out, and prove who was\nthe better man, didn\u2019t he decline? A pretty thing to marry a man like\nthat. Marry him, Susy, and see what I will do!\u201d\n\nPoor Susy was now regarded by all her family, with the exception of\nher father, who remained silent, as a reprobate and outcast. When she\nsat down to her meals, she was treated as if she were supported by\ncharity. At other times she was watched like a criminal. Her fortitude\nand good conscience, nevertheless, sustained her under her unmerited\nwrongs.\n\nIn the meantime, the two gentlemen, Foxville and Wodehouse, conferred\ntogether. Mrs. Foxville at first insisted on being present; but it was\nto no purpose. Mr. Foxville\u2019s hardihood gave him the victory. He was\ndeclared to be the most obstinate of men; he bore the imputation and\ntriumphed.\n\n\u201cWhat good have you done?\u201d sneered Mrs. Foxville, when the meeting was\nover.\n\n\u201cOur Susy and Nathaniel will be man and wife!\u201d replied the\nimperturbable Foxville.\n\n\u201cOh!\u201d was the sole response, in a tone that boded little harmony if\nthe baffled Mrs. Foxville could have her way.\n\n\u201cAy, ay,\u201d continued Foxville. \u201cNat\u2019s the richest man within a dozen\nmiles of this place. I tell you, I have proof of it. Look, there\u2019s a\n_little_ present, as he called it, for you!\u201d\n\nFoxville pulled out of his pocket a magnificent set of jewels in the\nneatest of morocco cases, and handed the gift to his wife.\n\nWhat a transformation on the countenance and in the manner of Mrs.\nFoxville! Who could have suggested such a happy idea to Nathaniel as\nthe magical present which turned out to be such a talisman of power?\nThat secret was never known but to Susy and Nathaniel, and it cannot\nbe divulged.\n\nAs Mrs. Foxville gazed with rapture on the jewels, her eyes vied in\nsparkling with the diamonds.\n\n\u201cWell, I cannot help forgiving him!\u201d exclaimed the pacified lady. \u201cWho\nwould have thought this of Nathaniel Wodehouse? Twelve months ago I\nknow he was scarcely worth a penny. But are you quite sure that you\nhave not been taken in?\u201d\n\n\u201cTrust old Foxville for that, eh? I have seen how he came by his           612\nmoney. Old Simpson, his uncle, died last March, and left him sole\nheir.\u201d\n\n\u201cSimpson his uncle! A good family! My father knew him well.\u201d\n\nMrs. Foxville\u2019s was not altogether a vain boast: the late Mr. Simpson\nhad been the best customer at her father\u2019s grocery.\n\nAugustus now joined his parents unexpectedly.\n\n\u201cGussy, my boy,\u201d cried his father, \u201cNat is the happy man, after all!\nHe could buy up all of Foxville if he chose. He wants you to dine with\nhim at his club to-morrow. Do as you like. I meddle in no man\u2019s\nbusiness!\u201d\n\n\u201cOf course I will! He is a better fellow than I took him to be,\u201d said\nthe sensible Augustus. \u201cAnd here comes Susy,\u201d he added, seeing his\nsister approaching.\n\n\u201cSusy, we congratulate you,\u201d exclaimed the overjoyed father. \u201cThe\ncourse of true love runs smoothly a little too soon, eh?\u201d\n\nSusy blushed scarlet.\n\n\u201cKiss me, my darling girl,\u201d said Mrs. Foxville.\n\n\u201cBravo!\u201d sang out Augustus.\n\n\u201cBut Till must hear the news! Let me fetch Matilda!\u201d And he ran off\nwith all speed, and soon returned with his sister.\n\n\u201cI told you I had something to show you,\u201d said he, addressing Matilda.\n\u201cLook at that picture! We only want Nat to make us thoroughly jolly.\nYou will make a superb bridesmaid, Till, though I say it!\u201d\n\n\u201cNot I indeed!\u201d replied Matilda, with a grand toss of her head.\n\n\u201cYou won\u2019t for Susy?\u201d the terrible Augustus went on. \u201cThat\u2019s cruel of\nyou; but I\u2019ll give you a chance. So don\u2019t despair; it\u2019s often a first\nstep to matrimony!\u201d\n\nMatilda bit her lip till it nearly bled, but she suffered not a word\nto escape her.\n\n\u201cFor shame, Gussy!\u201d cried Susy, as she flung herself, half-smiling,\nhalf-crying, on her sister\u2019s neck.\n\n                      *     *     *     *     *\n\nWith great adroitness Nathaniel eventually made his peace with\nMatilda, though it was rather a truce than a peace; but sufficient\nharmony was in a little time restored to Foxville House to make Susy\u2019s\nwedding go off with _\u00e9clat_.\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n                      THE MARTYRS OF ARCUEIL.                             613\n\n\n[The following narrative of the imprisonment and execution of certain\nDominicans, by the Paris Commune, in May of last year, is translated\nfrom an account drawn up in French, under the eyes and, in a measure,\nat the dictation of witnesses who shared the captivity of the martyrs,\nand survived their fate only by a providential interposition which\nseems little less than miraculous. It was written merely to preserve,\nin the archives of the order, an authentic record of the circumstances\nwhich it, commemorates; but it glows with examples of Christian\nheroism and charity which ought not to be lost to the world at large.\nThe branch of the Dominicans which gives this company of martyrs to\nthe church was founded by Father Lacordaire shortly after the passing\nof the law of 1850, which, by abridging the exclusive privileges of\nthe university of Paris, conferred upon the religious orders in France\nthe right of opening schools and colleges, a right for which\nLacordaire and Montalembert had battled for twenty years. Father\nCaptier was one of the original company of four novices with whom\nFather Lacordaire founded, in 1852, the new order of Teaching\nDominicans.]\n\nIn the spring of 1863, eighteen months after the death of Father\nLacordaire, certain religious of the Third (Teaching) Order of\nDominicans, having as their head the Rev. Father Captier, were sent to\nestablish, in the house formerly belonging to Berthollet, a college\nunder the name of the Blessed Albertus Magnus. It was a difficult task,\nand from the outset was met by the government with an opposition\nequally obstinate and hypocritical. In order to prevent the virtual\nabrogation of the law of 1850, to which France is now indebted for\nsuch a gallant multitude of faithful instructors, the contest opened\nby Father Lacordaire, in 1831, in the matter of the free schools, had\nto be commenced anew. Deprived of their religious habit, and harassed\nby incessant and discreditable vexations, Father Captier and his\ncompanions nevertheless stood bravely at their post of honor. At last,\nafter two years of labor and experiment, they were permitted to enjoy\nin peace the protection of the law, and to speak freely to their\npupils according to the inspiration of their hearts and their faith.\n\nThe establishment at Arcueil, founded in trouble, thenceforward\nprospered without interruption, and grew apace under the watchful and\naffectionate care of Father Captier. He seemed to know every member of\nthe community to his inmost heart. He cared for every one with a\nreligious and at the same time manly tenderness. There was not one to\nwhom he failed to do good. With the performance of these duties he\ncombined an active interest in all questions relating to the education\nof youth, and opposed with all his might the encroachment of the\nsystem of godless schools which has since been so audaciously imposed\nupon Parisian families. Appointed a member of the Commission\nd\u2019Enseignement Sup\u00e9rieur, as the most thorough representative of the      614\nfree schools, he brought to the service of that board the experience\nof twenty years, the devout aspirations of his holy community, and the\nenthusiasm of a spirit earnest in the cause of enlightenment and holy\nliberty. When he returned to his cell, he resumed the cares of a soul\nwhich aimed to be wholly and profoundly immersed in the religious\nlife. He concerned himself about the progress of all his brethren and\npupils in observing the rules of the community, well knowing that the\nbest means of doing good to souls is to draw from God the courage and\nthe light which one needs in order to serve them.\n\nSuch was the state of affairs at Arcueil when the war broke out. The\nschool then contained nearly three hundred pupils. In an establishment\nwhere religion and patriotism were both so warmly cherished, the first\nthought of every one was to do his utmost to aid France in her\nstruggle against the foreigner. The pupils raised a large contribution\nfor the relief of the victims of the coming campaigns. The religious\ngave their persons. Three of them joined the ambulances and passed the\nwinter on the fields of battle, while the others devoted themselves in\nthe college premises to taking care of the wounded victims of the\nsiege of Paris. About fifteen hundred sick and wounded soldiers were\nthus treated in the college ambulance; and it was a devotion all the\nmore meritorious because Arcueil, situated on the French outposts, was\nconstantly under the fire of the German artillery.\n\nAfter the siege, the school of Arcueil reopened its doors to pupils,\nand in March resumed its classes and its regular life. Then came the\ncivil war. Placed between Fort Montrouge, Fort Bic\u00eatre, and the\nredoubt of Hautes Bruy\u00e8res, the school found itself within the lines\nof the Paris Commune. Instead of abandoning their house, the fathers\nresolved to continue their services to the wounded. They displayed on\nthe front of the building the flag of the Geneva Convention, and, with\nthe aid of the assistant masters whom the peace had collected around\nthem, they began to traverse the battlefields on the south of Paris,\ngathering up the wounded and burying the dead. Within the college, the\npoor soldiers, whether regulars or federals, were tended by the\ncharitable hands of the Sisters of St. Martha. At first the communists\nrespected this self-sacrifice. The less violent of them were pleased\nto be so well cared for by the Dominicans of Arcueil. Many\nrequisitions, nevertheless, were made upon the institution, and the\nhouse was ransacked from top to bottom, but nothing was found in it\nexcept the evidence of a charity which no rebuffs could discourage.\nThe religious continued with unremitting zeal to relieve the wounded\non the field of battle, and awaited patiently the triumph of justice\nand liberty. A number of battalions of the National Guard were thus\nbrought into contact with the school. Several of them showed gratitude\nand even a sort of sympathy, but so far as that went everything\ndepended upon the officers. Thus, the 101st Battalion, commanded by\none Cerisier, a convict \u201cwho had been three times sentenced to death,\nand believed neither in God nor in man,\u201d far from showing any\ngood-will, seemed hardly willing to forgive the religious for their\ncharitable labors in its behalf.\n\nOn the 17th of May, several events happened which greatly excited and\nalarmed the insurgents. A cartridge factory exploded in the Avenue\nRapp, that is to say, within the _enceinte_ of Paris, and at least\nsix kilometres from Arcueil. Several posts in the valley of the Bi\u00e8vre    615\nwere surprised and overpowered at the point of the bayonet. Finally, a\nfew paces from the school, the ch\u00e2teau of the Marquis de Laplace,\noccupied by the federals as a barrack, was burned. It was determined\nthat the communists of Arcueil should be held to an accountability for\nthese wholly unconnected occurrences, and the federals required\nnothing more to justify them in ordering an arrest.\n\nOn Friday, the 19th of May, between four and five o\u2019clock in the\nafternoon, the school of Arcueil, which then contained twenty wounded\nbrought in the night before from the field of battle, received a visit\nfrom Citizens Leo Meillet and Lucy Pyat, envoys from the Commune of\nParis, and wearing the red scarf; Thaler, a Prussian, sub-governor of\nthe Fort of Bic\u00eatre; and Cerisier, commander of the 101st Battalion of\nthe Paris National Guard. While these gentlemen were entering at the\nmain door, the 101st and 120th Battalions surrounded the premises,\nbroke down the enclosure, and forced their way in at every entrance,\nleaving sentinels here and there with orders to shoot anybody who\nattempted to go out. At the demand of Leo Meillet, Father Captier\npresented himself. An order from the Commune was shown him, setting\nforth no complaint or legal excuse, but commanding all the members of\nthe community, from the prior down to the last of the kitchen\nservants, to submit themselves to the commands of the delegates. Half\nan hour was granted them for the necessary preparations. The bell was\nrung to call the household together, and Lucy Pyat, taking this for a\nsuspicious signal, threatened to shoot the child who had committed\nsuch a crime. One by one, the religious, the assistant teachers, the\nsisters, the domestics, and the seven or eight pupils remaining in\nthe house gathered around Father Captier. When the word was given to\ndepart, they all fell down upon their knees, and with tears in their\neyes asked his blessing. \u201cMy children,\u201d he said to them, \u201cyou see what\nhas happened. No doubt you are going to be questioned; be frank and\nsincere, as if you were speaking to your parents. Remember the counsel\nthey gave you when they trusted you to our care; and whatever happens,\nbear in mind that you must be men who can live and can die like\nFrenchmen and like Christians. Adieu! May the blessing of the Father,\nthe Son, and the Holy Ghost descend upon you, and remain with you\nalways, always!\u201d\n\nThen the fatal journey was arranged. The horses and wagons of the\nschool were seized, and the vehicles were first filled with the\nsisters and female domestics. They were forbidden any communication\nwith each other by word or gesture, or any signal of farewell, under\npenalty of being shot. They were taken first to the Conciergerie and\nafterwards to Saint Lazare (the prison for abandoned women), whence\nthey were released on the Tuesday following by the arrival of the\nVersailles troops, before the miscreants of the Commune could execute\nthe horrid threats of which they were the objects during these four\ndays. The pupils were also to have been carried off, but, thanks to a\nmisunderstanding on the part of the federal chiefs, their arrest was\nsuspended. Later it was proposed to convey them to the H\u00f4tel de Ville,\nand even to the barricades, but nothing was done, and they remained\ntolerably at ease in a remote part of the house, under the signally\nintelligent and devoted care of the young Jacques de La Perri\u00e8re,\nwhose conduct in these trying days was above all praise.                  616\n\nWhen all the others were gone, the fathers, the professors, and the\nmale servants were brought down into the first court, and surrounded\nby the men of the 101st and 120th Battalions. The door opened, and the\nsad cort\u00e8ge began its march towards the Fort of Bic\u00eatre, situated\nthree kilometres from the school. They first passed through the\nstreets of Arcueil. The inhabitants looked on in silence, though their\nsympathies were all with the prisoners. \u201cWhen they passed our door,\u201d\nsaid a poor woman, \u201cand I saw Father Captier and all these messieurs,\nwho had done us so much good, marching in the midst of the muskets, I\nimagined it was Jesus Christ with his disciples going to Jerusalem to\nbe crucified.\u201d At Gentilly, which they were next obliged to traverse,\nthe popular feeling was very different, and the most outrageous\nlanguage was used towards the prisoners.\n\nIt was seven o\u2019clock in the evening when the column arrived at the\nfort. The captives were first locked up in a small room where,\ninsulted in the grossest manner, they were forced to wait their turn\nto appear before the governor of the fort, and go through the\nformality of registering on the books of the prison. These formalities\nlasted a long time, the number was so large. Each man was submitted to\nthe pretence of an examination, though there was no question of any\ncrime or misdemeanor, nor any indictment whatever. Then they were\nsearched, and stripped of everything they carried (even the breviaries\nwere taken away), and conducted to Casemate No. 10, which faces the\nentrance to the fort.[120] It was nearly midnight when Father Captier\nand the other religious were placed here. Their companions followed in\nsmall parties, and about two o\u2019clock the door closed upon the last of\nthem. It was never to open for them again till they went out to their\ndeath.\n\nThis first night was very severe. The casemate contained only a few\nremnants of damp straw, already spoiled and broken up by some Bavarian\nsoldiers, and each man had to grope for a clean spot on the bare\nfloor. When morning came, they sought for some alleviation of their\nwretched condition. By dint of earnest representation, they got some\nbundles of fresh straw, and after a few days the breviaries were\nrestored to the religious. Father Captier succeeded in obtaining paper\nand pencil, and addressed a communication to the governor of the fort.\nHe thus secured the liberation of two lads, Emile Delaitre and Paul\nLair, who had been imprisoned with the other servants of the school.\nHe had more difficulty in obtaining the favor of a serious\nexamination, for thus far the twenty-five prisoners were absolutely\nignorant of the cause of their arrest. Something, at any rate, was\ngranted: on Sunday afternoon, Fathers Captier and Cotrault were led\nbefore Citizen Lucy Pyat, who, after a long conversation, informed        617\nthem that they were to be considered neither as condemned nor accused,\nnor even prisoners, but they were merely held as witnesses. He was a\nprophet, though he did not know it; for God had chosen them to bear\nwitness, with their blood, to the glory of his holy name.\n\nIt was hoped that the examinations would be resumed on the following\nday (Monday), but this was not done. On the contrary, the officers in\ncommand at the fort held no further communication with the prisoners.\nIt is probable that in thus keeping away they yielded to the wishes of\ntheir men; for, while the officers preserved an appearance of civility\nin the presence of the fathers, their subordinates constantly\nredoubled their outrages, and took all pains to render them more and\nmore gross. Drunken and infamous creatures showed themselves every few\nminutes before the windows of the casemate, jeering at the prisoners,\nloading them with unmentionable epithets, or reading aloud, with\ninfinite gusto, the most shameless articles from the Communist\nnewspapers. One day, they saw the sub-governor of the fort, cap in\nhand, ushering Father Captier into his prison after some sort of an\nexamination. This mark of respect so exasperated the federal soldiers\nthat they raised a great disturbance at the door of the casemate, and\nthenceforth the provisions for the prisoners were regularly plundered\nor intercepted on the way; for two days the captives were denied even\na cup of water. On Wednesday, the 24th, an execution took place in the\ncourtyard of the fort, directly under their eyes. It was made the\noccasion of redoubled menaces and heartless allusions. The same day,\nthe Abb\u00e9 F\u00e9ron, chaplain of the Hospital of Bic\u00eatre, went in search of\nthe governor of the fort, and asked to be entrusted with the custody\nof the members of the Arcueil community, offering to answer for them\nwith his life until they could be judged. This generous effort was\nunavailing. The Commune had already settled everything. The school was\nto be pillaged and burned.[121] As for the prisoners, they belonged to\nthe 101st Battalion and its commander, who would dispose of them\naccording to circumstances.\n\nWhat were the thoughts of the victims during this long week of agony?\nTheir companions in captivity tell us that a gentle cheerfulness never\nceased to prevail in that wretched dungeon. With the exception of some\nof the servants, married men and fathers of families, whose attitude\nand manner were somewhat gloomy and dejected, every one pursued his\nordinary way of life--not that they forgot or despised death, but\nbecause they had offered to God the sacrifice of their lives for\nFrance. The religious redoubled their usual devotion, encouraged each\nother and exhorted their companions. Every evening they said the\nrosary together, adding the usual mementos for their absent brethren.\nFrom time to time, Father Captier, though completely broken down by\nfatigue and privation, roused himself to give a pious reading, or to\naddress the words of life and salvation to those who looked up to him\nas their chief. Outside, the federals gathered around to mock at their\nprayers. One morning, when the horizon was red with flames in the\ndirection of Paris, Father Captier was pacing to and fro, saying his\noffice, and some one cried to him through the window, \u201cOh, yes! you\nhad better pray God not to let the torpedoes that the city is full of\nexplode!\u201d \u201cI am doing it,\u201d answered the good father sadly and quietly;\nand then, finishing his breviary, he asked his companions to pray with    618\nhim.\n\nOn Thursday, the 25th, at daybreak, an extraordinary activity was\nobserved inside the fortress. Guns were removed and spiked, and the\nbugles blew the assembly. At one time, the prisoners believed that the\nfort had been wholly evacuated, and they had only to wait the arrival\nof the Versailles troops to secure\u2019 their liberty.\n\nBut this hope was of short duration. A body of armed men appeared at\nthe door of the casemate in considerable confusion. As they had not\nthe keys, they forced an entrance with blows from the butt-ends of\ntheir muskets, and ordered the captives to start immediately with the\ncolumn, which was retiring into Paris. \u201cYou are free,\u201d said they,\n\u201conly we must not leave you in the hands of the Versaillists. You must\nfollow us to the _mairie_ of the Gobelins, and then you will go\nto Paris, or wherever you like.\u201d\n\nThe march was long and painful. Every instant the prisoners were\nthreatened with death. The women showed themselves especially furious,\nand eager to witness the death of these men who wore a sacred garb.\nThey moved down towards the gate of Ivry, and on the road a few\nrifle-shots from Bic\u00eatre caused a little disturbance, of which Father\nRousselin took advantage to slip away and return to Arcueil. The\nothers continued their journey towards Paris. Arriving at the\n_mairie_ of the Gobelins, in the midst of cries of \u201cdeath!\u201d from the\ncrowd maddened at the approach of the regular army, it was in vain\nthat they reminded their guard of the liberty promised them. They were\ntold, \u201cThe streets are not safe; you will be killed by the people;\nremain here.\u201d They were taken into the court of the _mairie_, and\nmade to sit on the ground, exposed to the falling shells. Here the\nfederals brought the corpses of their victims, to show \u201c_ces canailles_\u201d\nhow the Commune served its enemies. At the end of half an hour an\nofficer appeared, and took them to the _prison disciplinaire_ of the\n9th _secteur_, No. 38 Avenue d\u2019Italie. As soon as they entered, the\ncaptives of Arcueil recognized the 101st Battalion and its chief,\nCitizen Cerisier, that is, the same who had made their arrest. It was\nthen ten o\u2019clock in the morning. About half-past two, a man in a red\nshirt threw open the door of the hall, and cried out, \u201cGet up,\n_soutanes_; they are going to take you to the barricade.\u201d The fathers\nwent out, and, with the Abb\u00e9 Grancolas and the others, were conducted\ntowards the barricade thrown up in front of the _mairie_ of the\nGobelins. There they were offered muskets to fight with. \u201cWe are\npriests,\u201d said they, \u201cand, besides, we are non-combatants in virtue of\nour service in the ambulance. We shall not take arms. All that we can\ndo is to relieve your wounded and bear away the dead.\u201d \u201cIs this your\nfixed purpose?\u201d asked the officer of the Commune. \u201cIt is.\u201d Then they\nwere taken back to the prison, with an escort of federals and women\narmed with muskets. Once locked up, they thought of nothing but\npreparations for the last journey. They all knelt, made a final\noffering of the sacrifice of their lives, confessed, and received\nabsolution. They were not to have the dying Christian\u2019s last\nconsolation, the divine viaticum. God did not judge this grace\nnecessary for them; and, besides, from the prison to heaven the\njourney was to be so short!\n\nAbout half-past four, a new order came from Citizen Cerisier. All the\nprisoners filed out into the lane which leads up to the prison, while\nthe federals of the 101st Battalion loaded their muskets with             619\nsignificant noise. Already every man was at his place. Platoons were\nstationed at the corners of all the neighboring streets. It is said\nthat Citizen Cerisier sat in a carriage on the avenue, with a woman by\nhis side. This is the manner in which he presided over executions\nunder the Commune of Paris. Then the word of command was heard: \u201cGo\nout into the street, one by one!\u201d Father Captier turned half round\ntowards his companions, and said, \u201cCome, my friends; it is for the\ngood God!\u201d\n\nThe massacre began at once. Father Cotrault went out first, and fell\nmortally wounded. Father Captier was hit by a ball which broke his\nleg, and was struck down by another ball at a distance of more than a\nhundred metres, near the spot where the insurgents of June, 1848,\nmassacred General Br\u00e9a. Father Bourard, also, after receiving one\nwound, was able to go a few steps in the same direction before he fell\nunder a second discharge. Fathers Delhorme and Chatagneret were shot\ndown instantly. M. Gauquelin fell with them. M. Voland and five of the\nservants (Aim\u00e9 Gros, Marce, Cheminal, Dintroz, and Cathala) went out\nof the lane behind the fathers, and had time to cross the Avenue\nd\u2019Italie, but were killed before they could find shelter.\n\nThe other prisoners managed to escape.[122] The Abb\u00e9 Grancolas, barely\ntouched by a bullet, got into a house, where a woman disguised him in\nher husband\u2019s clothes. M. R\u00e9zillot was only slightly wounded. MM.\nEdouard Bertrand, Gauvin, Delaitre, Brouho, and Duch\u00e9 found shelter in\nsome of the houses or neighboring caves, and afterwards in the ranks\nof the national army. How impenetrable are the designs of God! If he\nhad permitted our soldiers to arrive only one hour sooner, all the\nmartyrs of Arcueil would have been saved.\n\nThe fury of the assassins was not sated by the massacre. They fell\nupon the bodies of the dead, tore off their clothing, pierced them\nwith bayonets, and with their axes broke their limbs and crushed their\nbleeding heads. The soldiers of the 113th Regiment, who passed this\nspot in triumph after surmounting the barricades, comprehended the\nglorious fate of the martyrs, and, bending over them, took the\nrosaries from their girdles, and divided them, bead by bead, as sacred\nrelics. But after they had gone their way, the work of profanation was\nresumed, and for more than fifteen hours the bodies remained exposed\nto every imaginable outrage.\n\nThe next morning the Abb\u00e9 Guillemette, a priest of that quarter, came\nacross the corpses, and, noticing that they wore a religious habit,\nmade inquiry into the circumstances of the assassination. He caused\nthe sacred remains to be immediately collected, and taken to the house\nof the brethren in the Rue du Moulin-des-Pr\u00e9s. There a professor from\nArcueil, M. d\u2019Arsac, identified the bodies, indicated the name of\neach, and claimed for them the respect due to martyrs in a holy cause.\nAt the same time, M. Durand, cur\u00e9 of Arcueil, and M. Eug\u00e8ne Lavenant,\nthe Mayor, were informed of the death of the Dominicans, their friends\nand their companions in the hour of danger. They both came together to\nask for the remains of the victims, and removed them to Arcueil. It\nwas desired to bury them within the enclosure of the school, where\nFather Rousselin awaited them, with Jacques de La Perri\u00e8re, and the       620\npupils who had remained faithful to the house. But it would have been\nnecessary to submit to long formalities, and the bodies were so\ndreadfully bruised that there was no time even to make them coffins.\nThe hearse, followed by a great crowd of people deeply agitated with\ngrief and anger, was driven to the common cemetery. There the martyrs\nlie side by side in one grave, with no shroud but their blood-stained\nvestments.\n\nThis undistinguished tomb ought not to be the last resting-place of\nthe martyrs of Arcueil. Father Captier and his companions will sleep\nin the shadow of the school which their labor founded and their blood\nrenders henceforth illustrious. Not only the religious who were the\nbrethren of the victims, and the pupils who were their children, but\nall who care for religion and country, will come to pray at their\nsepulchre, and meditate upon the lessons of their death.\n\n\n     [120] The following is a list of the prisoners:\n     _In the Fort of Bic\u00eatre_.--Father Captier, prior of the\n     school of Arcueil; Bourard, chaplain; Delhorme, regent of\n     studies; Cotrault, procurator; Rousselin, censor;\n     Chatagneret, professor--all professed religious of the Third\n     (Teaching) Order of St. Dominic, except F. Bourard, who\n     belonged to the Order of Preaching Friars; MM. Voland,\n     Gauquelin, L\u2019Abb\u00e9 Grancolas, Edouard Bertrand, R\u00e9zillot,\n     Petit, and Gauvin, assistant masters; MM. Aim\u00e9 Gros, Marce,\n     Cathala, Joseph Cheminal, Dintroz, Simon Brouho, Duch\u00e9,\n     Bussi, Schepens, Delaitre (father and son), and Paul Lair,\n     servants of the school. _In the Prison of Saint Lazare._--Mother\n     Aloysia Ducos, superior of the Sisters of St. Martha;\n     Sisters Elisabeth Poirier, Louise Marie Carriquiry, Louis de\n     Gonzague Dorfin, and M\u00e9lanie Gatineaud; Mmes. Ang\u00e8le Marce,\n     Marguerite Cathala, Clara Delaitre, and the widow Gu\u00e9gon;\n     Miles, Gertrude Faas, Catherine Morvan, and Louise Cathala\n     (aged 8 years).\n\n     [121] In point of fact, the school was plundered on\n     the 25th of May. There was no time to burn it.\n\n     [122] To this day the fate of M. Petit is not\n     positively known. There is reason to believe that he escaped\n     the first fusillade, but was recaptured by the federals and\n     shot by them at one of the barricades. It is apparently of\n     him that the Abb\u00e9 Lesmayoux speaks in a letter to the\n     _Univers_.\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n                              VEILED.\n\n       \u201cDilectus meus mihi, et ego illi.\u201d[123]--CANT. ii. 16.\n\n\n          No bridegroom mine of change and death:\n            My orange-flowers shall never fade:\n          Immortal dews shall gem the wreath\n            When crowns of earth have all decayed.\n\n          No bride am I that plights her troth\n            With touch of doubt, or trust too fond;\n          And risks the present, wisely loath\n            To search too far the veiled beyond.\n\n          To me \u2018tis but the past is veiled:\n            The world that mocks with joys that fleet;\n          The \u201cEgypt\u201d that so long has failed\n            To make its \u201ctroubled waters\u201d[124] sweet:\n\n          The world with all its sins and cares,\n            Its sorrows gained and graces lost;\n          The garden of a thousand snares,\n            The barren field of blight and frost.\n\n          But shines the future clear as truth:\n            A few swift years of prayer and peace,\n          Where hearts may know perennial youth,\n            And virtues evermore increase:\n\n          And then my Lord, my only love,\n            Shall come, and lift the veil, and say:\n          \u201cArise, all fair, my spouse, my dove!\n            The rain is over--haste, away![125]\n\n          \u201cThe rain is o\u2019er, the winter gone,\n            That sun and summer seemed to thee.\n          If sweet the toilsome journey done,\n            How sweeter now thy rest shall be!\u201d\n\n\n     [123] \u201cMy Beloved is mine, and I am his.\u201d\n\n     [124] Jer. ii. 18.\n\n     [125] Cant. ii. 10, 11.\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n                      A VISIT TO MAMMOTH CAVE.                            621\n\n\nA sleepy and forlorn bachelor, about to set forth on this expedition\n_solus_, some special providence sent to our relief a party of gay\nyoung friends, whom we found already assembled in the Louisville depot\nof the Louisville and Nashville Railroad. Upon this pleasant rencontre\nwe did not cease to congratulate ourself, having been previously\nwarned that the cave is seen to greater advantage by a large party;\nthe number of lights carried, extra guides, etc., all tending to\nenhance picturesque effects, and promote the comfort of the\nsight-seers.\n\nLeaving Louisville at the early hour of seven A.M., a very enjoyable\nride lay before us; at first through the celebrated blue grass region\nof Kentucky, and afterward skirting the wilder, more picturesque\ncountry, famous, or infamous, as the scene of guerilla warfare during\nthe war and after. Here these desperadoes, entrenched in some of\nnature\u2019s impregnable fortresses, sallied forth at will, cutting the\nrailroads, stopping trains at all hours of the day and night, and\nplundering farms for miles in every direction. But we have changed all\nthat! The road boasts a tunnel of some extent. Here the young men of\nour party perpetrated the time-honored joke of kissing their hands\nwith a resounding smack, bringing out the roses on the cheeks of our\npretty girls; when we emerge from darkness, each one of them being\nfully conscious that she is suspected as the guilty recipient of that\nkiss.\n\nAt noon we reach a station bearing the imposing name of Cave City;\na close corporation, consisting of one establishment, for the\nrefreshment of man and beast destined for the Mammoth Cave. A poor\ndinner, after the manner of such wayside inns, awaits us, and at two\nP.M. we hear the welcome sound, \u201cAll aboard stage for the cave!\u201d Two\nvehicles, filled inside with ladies, and outside with the adequate\ncomplement of gentlemen and baggage--a nice point, by the way, in\nthese days of woman\u2019s rights and Saratoga trunks! But, ladies, we warn\nyou not to undertake the cave without at least one man whom you own or\nhave a lien on--there are points in the explorations before you when\none man, and perhaps several others, will be convenient to lean on.\n\nWith a mighty creaking, a few preliminary false starts, resulting in\nsome new and jerky experiences to those unaccustomed to the\nold-fashioned stages, at last we are fairly off, beginning almost\nimmediately a winding and gradual ascent. We are told by our sanguine\ndriver that there had been an attempt to macadamize the road--then\ncertainly it has been an attempt, and nothing more; on several\noccasions we rode over smooth stones so large that it was quite a\nrelief from the deep ruts which seamed the road on every side.\n\nHigh hills surround us, luxuriant in the foliage of June; at rare\nintervals a farm-house is seen in some distant valley, but there are\nfew evidences of cultivating the soil, which is doubtless of too\ncavernous a nature to repay the farmer his toil.\n\nAfter riding a distance of three or four miles, the wildness of the       622\nscene is increased by huge formations of rocks; many streams murmur in\nthe distance, and near the only house we approach on the route, a\nlittle maid, hurrying barefoot from the spring, presents a pail of\nwater for the benefit of the thirsty stagers. There have been sundry\nflasks of _eau de vie_ on top, and the gentlemen evince no desire for\nthe milder fluid, quaffed by the ladies with such avidity.\n\nThe half-way point is a platform for shade built across the road, and\nhere those who wish to explore Osceola, or Indian Cave, take a short\nwalk down the hill. Not caring to receive any subterra impressions\nbefore the great cavern dawned upon us, we joined the ladies in\npicking wild flowers, which are of great beauty and variety in this\nregion. The exploring party on their return reported Osceola to be\nmainly a dugout cave, having some interest, but, like its illustrious\nnamesake, very dirty! Nearly an hour having been devoted to resting\nthe horses, we resume the stages, and, the road improving, proceed\nwith accelerated speed, when a sudden halt causes us to look back--the\nsecond stage has broken down! What is to be done? Nothing but to\nsqueeze two more ladies in our coach, while we gentlemen resign our\nplaces on top to the rest of the feminines, who really make the\nalarming ascent with grace; but after a short walk our gallantry oozes\nout at the very tips of our boots, and, one by one, we jump on the\nsteps to talk, thence clamber to the roof to find seats as best we\nmay.\n\nAfter a nine miles\u2019 drive, we approach a long, low frame-building. An\nair of quiet and rustic simplicity pervades the spot! This is the\n\u201cCave House.\u201d The apartments to which we are conducted have lost none\nof the rusticity of the exterior surroundings, but everything is\nscrupulously neat, and there are excellent negro servants in\nattendance--desirable features in a hotel. Not less so is savory\nbroiled chicken, to which we were speedily introduced.\n\nBeing all impressed with the idea that about nine extra hours of sleep\nwere requisite to fit us for the labors of the morrow, we denied\nourselves the pleasures of the large ball-room, whence issued the\nstrains, evoked by some black musicians, wooing to the giddy mazes of\nthe dance! Loose flannel suits are kept at the hotel for those who\ncome unprepared for the cool climate and rough climbing of the cave;\nbut we found our baseball toggery to be the very thing we wanted, and,\narrayed therein, immediately after an early breakfast assembled on the\nwide veranda, which surrounds the house and makes a pleasant\npromenade.\n\nThe ladies look charming in their picturesque costumes of bright\ncolors. Being a modest man, we merely mention that our stalwart frame\ndoes credit to the uniform of the \u201cYellow Garters,\u201d of which glorious\nnine we boast ourself a member.\n\nAll in high spirits, we descend a thickly wooded ravine to the right\nof the house: beautiful ferns and mosses carpet the sides of the\nfunnel-shaped opening surrounding the mouth of the cave, to the bottom\nof which our winding path is gradually leading us, a descent of forty\nor fifty feet. Around and above, tall trees stand sentinel on the only\napproach to this secret underworld.\n\nOur guide remarks that the present is not the original mouth of the\ncave, which is distant a quarter of a mile on the south bank of Green\nRiver. Many, many years ago, the upper crust must have given way,         623\nforming this opening into which we are now descending, and filling\nwith earth and stones that first part of the cavern, now called\n\u201cDickson\u2019s\u201d and rarely visited. The present entrance was discovered,\nin 1809, by a hunter running a bear into it. So little was the extent\nor value of the cave known, that it was soon afterward sold, with two\nhundred acres of land, for forty dollars. A short, sharp turn in the\npath brings us facing an archway of rock, over which a silver thread\nof water is falling. A cold wind rushes from a dark opening, above\nwhich the condensed atmosphere floats like a veil. With a sort of awe\nwe descend some rough stone steps, and enter the cave. Already\ndarkness is becoming visible: our party, numbering twenty-five, are\nfurnished with lamps, and all with our \u201cpilgrim staves\u201d set forth on\nthe \u201cshort route.\u201d\n\nTo give some general idea of the outlines of the cave, we cannot do\nbetter than quote the simile of a scientific gentleman who, in writing\non this subject, asks the reader to \u201cimagine the channel of a large\nand winndig river, with tributaries at intervals, some of them the\nsize of the main stream, emptying into the chief river, as, for\ninstance, the Missouri and Ohio joining the Mississippi; these\ntributaries also receiving their support from creeks and rivulets,\nsome of them quite small and extending but a short distance, while\nothers are much longer, larger, and more beautiful. Now, it is easy to\nimagine these rivers as being under ground, or having a surface\ncovering of earth and rocks, and that their rugged channels and banks\nhave long ceased from some cause to be bathed with the waters which in\nages long past flowed so freely along them; in fact, that they are\nquite dry, except in a few of the avenues.\u201d\n\nFrom this illustration it will be seen that we cannot \u201ccut across\ncountry\u201d from one point to another, but must explore each avenue, and\nthen retrace our steps to the point where we left the main cave.\nNecessarily there are many avenues well known to the guides rarely\nseen by visitors, because too much time would be consumed in visiting\nany but the most interesting. To see the cave at all satisfactorily,\none day should be devoted to the \u201cShort,\u201d another to the \u201cLong Route.\u201d\nAnd from our own experience, we would suggest that these two tramps\nshould not be made one immediately after the other, but let an\nintervening day be devoted to some other of the many minor expeditions\nof this region; then you are rested, and fresh for all the day in the\ncave of the \u201cLong Route.\u201d\n\nWhile indulging in these practical and retrospective reflections, we\nhave left our party in the narrow archway, about seven feet high,\nwhich is just within the mouth, and called the Narrows. Here there was\na slight detention caused by the lamps blowing out: Mat, our black\nguide, explains this by saying, \u201cThe cave\u2019s breathin\u2019 out.\u201d To explain\nwhich still further means that, the atmosphere of the cave being at\n59\u00b0, when the exterior air at the mouth is of a higher temperature, a\nstrong current sets outward; in winter, of course, the current sets\ninward: thus the cave breathes once a year. This action is felt a\nshort distance. Soon we leave behind everything reminding us of the\nupper world.\n\nBefore the eye has become accustomed to the darkness, a great sense of\ndisappointment is felt in groping through scenes of such interest with\ninsufficient light. This feeling, however, gradually wears off, and\nthe guides burn oiled paper, blue-lights, etc., when we stop to inspect   624\nsome special marvel.\n\nAfter leaving the Narrows, we soon enter the Rotunda, the ceiling of\nwhich is one hundred feet high, and its greatest diameter seventy-five\nfeet. This chamber is said to be immediately under the dining-room of\nthe hotel. The floor is strewn with the remains of vats, water-pipes,\netc., used by the saltpetre miners in 1812. From the entrance to this\npoint, wheel-tracks and the impressions made by the feet of oxen used\nto cart the saltpetre more than fifty years ago may still be seen. At\nthe time these indentations were made by the cleft foot of the ox and\nthe cartwheels, the earth was moist from the recent process of\nlixiviation in the saltpetre manufacture, and upon drying had attained\nthe stony solidity of petrifaction; and the indentations aforesaid are\nyet distinct, though they have been walked over by thousands of\nvisitors for many years. Leaving the Rotunda, we pass huge overhanging\nrocks, called Kentucky River Cliffs, and enter the Methodist Church,\nwhere services have been frequently held. The pulpit is formed by a\nledge of rock twenty-five feet high: the logs used as benches were\nplaced in the church fifty years ago, and are still in a good state of\npreservation. In this part of the cave, and in all the avenues near\nthe entrance, millions of bats make their winter quarters. We saw only\na few flitting about, but were told they returned in the autumn by\nhundreds. What wonderful instinct wakens these creatures from a\nwinter\u2019s sleep, with tidings that the glorious summer is at hand?\nVarious objects of minor interest are noted, and we pass on to Giant\u2019s\nCoffin, an immense rock, forty feet long, twenty wide, eight in\ndepth--fit sarcophagus for one of the giants of old; but Kentucky has\nherself of late years produced an individual who will nearly fill it.\nIn many parts of the cave, and more particularly in this region, some\nstriking effects are produced by the efflorescence of black gypsum\nupon a surface of white limestone. On the ceiling and walls these\nblack figures thus produced stand out in bold relief. Quite startling\nis a gigantic family group--man, wife, and infant. Another is a very\nperfect representation of an ant-eater.\n\nSoon we notice several enclosures, formerly occupied by invalids, who\nvainly imagined that this pure and unchanging atmosphere would restore\nthem to health.\n\nUp to this point walking has been an easy matter, the way quite level,\na path winding among loose stones of some size, and in many places a\nsmooth, broad avenue offering no obstruction; but when, one by one, we\nclimb a steep ladder placed against the wall to the right of Giant\u2019s\nCoffin, there is a realizing sense of \u201crocks ahead.\u201d\n\nThe Gothic Arcade, which we have now entered, has a flat ceiling,\nsmooth and white as if it had received a coat of plaster, and leads to\nGothic Chapel--a very beautiful room, yet not purely Gothic in its\nstyle of architecture, the roof being quite flat, supported by\ngigantic stalactites, extending so nearly to the floor that they\npresent the effect of fluted columns and graceful arches. Here was\nonce performed a marriage ceremony under romantic circumstances. A\nyoung lady, having promised her mother that she would never marry\nSnooks \u201con the face of the earth,\u201d evaded the letter of her contract\nby marrying the same in the bowels thereof. Two of the stalactites in\nthis chapel, called the Pillars of Hercules, are said to be thirty\nfeet in circumference. These stalactites being peculiar to caves, it\nmay interest the general reader to note their formation. If water,        625\nholding bicarbonate of lime in solution, drop slowly from the ceiling,\nexposure to the air allows one part of carbonic acid gas to escape,\nthe lime is then deposited in the form of proto-carbonate of lime, and\nthe stalactite, similar to an icicle, is slowly formed; if the deposit\naccumulate from below upward, it is termed a stalagmite; sometimes,\nmeeting in the centre, they become cemented and form a solid column.\nAn instance of this is given in the illustration of the Devil\u2019s\nArm-Chair. These forms are made more interesting from their variety of\ncolor: if the limestone is pure, the stalactite will be white, or\nsemi-transparent; if it contain oxide of iron, the result will be a\nred or yellow color; black stalactites containing a large proportion\nof oxide of iron. Many other things of interest, but too numerous to\nmention, are pointed out before we reach Lake Purity, a pool of\nshallow water, so perfectly transparent that stalactites are seen at\nthe bottom. Gothic Arcade terminating a short distance beyond the\nlake, we retraced our steps to the ladder by which we had reached this\nupper and older portion of the cave, and found ourselves again in the\nmain cave near the Giant\u2019s Coffin, passing behind which we enter a\nnarrow crevice, where, half crawling and stooping, a descent is made\nto Deserted Chamber. At this point, the water, after it had ceased to\nflow out of the mouth into Green River, left the main cave to descend\nto the lower regions and Echo River. Here we again leave the regular\nroute to visit Gorin\u2019s Dome, to us far the most beautiful of the many\nso-called domes.\n\nPassing over a small bridge, and ascending a steep ladder, we are, one\nby one, assisted by the guide to a point where it is not easy to\nretain a foothold; but here is nothing to be seen--we seem to be\nagainst a black wall. \u201cWhy, Mat, what did you bring us here for?\u201d But\nnot so fast. Mat has been preparing blue-lights for an illumination,\nand now he directs us to grasp the rock, and, one at a time, peer\nthrough a small opening. What wondrous vision is this! A hundred feet\nabove is the arched dome, from which depend stalactitic formations and\nshafts, of varying size and shape; facing us hangs a curtain-like\nmass, terminating abruptly in mid-air. In it you seem to trace the\nfolds and involutions of drapery veiling this mysterious place from\nvision. Far below, more than two hundred feet, unfathomable depths are\nrevealed by blue-lights thrown down, while shafts, curtain, and dome\nare frescoed in colors of pale blue, fawn, rose, and white. This dome\nis three hundred feet high, and sixty feet across its widest part;\nbut, alas! the \u201clights departed, the vision fled,\u201d and we are forced\nto descend from our eyrie. Leaving this sublime spectacle, we return\nto the main cave, and, following it around Great Bend, are soon in the\nfamous Star Chamber. This is an apartment sixty feet in height,\nseventy in width, and about five hundred in length, the ceiling\ncomposed of black gypsum, studded with numberless white points, caused\nby the efflorescence of Glauber\u2019s salts. This is what we learned of\nthis remarkable spot after leaving the cave. We now will tell you what\nwe saw. We were first seated on a narrow ledge of rock forming a bench\non one side of the chamber, the guide taking away our lamps to a\ndistant mass of rocks, behind which he leaves them, to shed a \u201cdim,\nreligious light\u201d on the scene. As our eyes become accustomed to the\nchange, we discover ourselves to be in a deep valley with gray, rugged\nsides, of course outside of the cave, else why is the sky above so        626\ndeeply, darkly blue? those countless stars shining?--shining, did we\nsay? We vow they twinkled. The Milky Way is there; we will not vouch\nfor the Dipper, but other constellations are visible, even a comet\nblazes across the heavens. The guide retires with his lamp to some\nmysterious lower region to produce shadows, and suddenly clouds sweep\nacross the horizon, a storm is brewing, the stars are almost hidden,\nnow they are out, utter darkness prevails, until we hear Mat stumbling\nabout, a faint light is in the east, and a fine artificial sunrise, as\nhe appears with his lamp. All this may read like child\u2019s play, yet so\ncomplete is the optical delusion that, when the lamps were all\nreturned to us, the mystery dispelled, we drew a long breath of relief\nthat we were not really shut up in that lonely defile, looking up\nlongingly to the stars, but actually several miles underground, and\nmerely under the influence of Glauber\u2019s salts! Beyond is Proctor\u2019s\nArcade, a natural tunnel, nearly a mile long, a hundred feet wide,\nforty in height; the ceilings and sides are smooth and shining,\nchiselled out of the solid rock. This tunnel leads past several points\nnot specially interesting, to Wright\u2019s Rotunda, which is four hundred\nfeet in diameter. It is astonishing that the ceiling has strength to\nsustain itself, being only fifty feet below the surface of the earth;\nbut no change need be anticipated, for at this point the cave is\nperfectly dry. A short distance beyond, several avenues branch off\nfrom the main cave, none worthy of note, except that which leads to\nFairy Grotto, a marvellous collection of stalactites, resembling a\ngrove of white coral. Here indeed might the fairies have held high\nrevelry, with glow-worm lamps suspended from each pillar, and fire-flies\nflitting from branch to branch.\n\nThe Chief City or Temple, situated in the main cave beyond the Rocky\nPass, is rarely visited by strangers now, yet, before the discovery of\nthe rivers and the wilderness of beauty beyond, it was considered one\nof the great features. It is an immense chamber, excelling in size the\ncave of Staffa. The floor at different points is covered with piles of\nrocks, presenting the appearance of an ancient city in ruins.\n\nThree miles beyond Chief City, the main cave is terminated abruptly by\nrocks fallen from above, which, if they could be removed, would no\ndoubt open communication with a cavern similar to the one we have been\nexploring. So many wonders, viewed in a few hours, leave the mind in a\nchaotic state, and the weary explorer is now ready to return to the\ncreature comforts of the hotel, there to ruminate, and, if he can,\narrange in some sort of order, in his \u201cmemory\u2019s mansion,\u201d sights and\nsensations so new and strange. In returning to the upper world, the\nappearance of the mouth is very beautiful. To eyes so long accustomed\nto darkness, the light is a subdued radiance, a fairy land in the\ndistance, until we emerge from the cave into the outer world, which\nseems, since we left it, to have been dyed in millions of rainbow\nhues; everything, the leaves, the trees, shone and sparkled in the\nblessed light! But--the air! the pure atmosphere we have been\nbreathing all the morning, renders the senses painfully conscious of\nthe decomposition of vegetable matter, causing such a feeling of\noppression that fainting may be the consequence if issuing from the\nentrance is not made a matter of easy stages.\n\nAs a result of the wise maxim, \u201cEarly to bed and early to rise,\u201d we       627\nfind ourselves on the following morning breakfasting in our cave\ndress, and prepared before nine o\u2019clock for the \u201cLong Route.\u201d\n\nWe now feel quite at home in the under-world, and, should any stranger\njoin our party, he would doubtless be much impressed by our manner of\ngoing over the familiar ground; evidently we know all about this;\nnothing can impress us now but \u201cfresh fields and pastures new.\u201d On\nthis day we are to realize something of the geography of the cave,\ntherefore a word on the subject of its formation.\n\nGreen River, only a few hundred yards from the entrance of the cave,\nhas evidently cut out the channel through which it runs. On either\nside, its rugged banks tower above the water three hundred feet, and\nthis the only valley of the plain, proving conclusively that the river\nhas excavated its bed to the present level by the chemical and\nmechanical agency of water. The avenues of the cave, no doubt, were\ncut through in the same manner, the lowest and last formed being Echo\nand Roaring rivers, which are now on a level with Green River, and\nwith which they have subterraneous communication.[126] As Green River\ndeepens the valley through which it passes, the rivers in the cave\nwill also continue to descend, until the avenues through which they\nnow flow shall become as dry as Marion Avenue, which, in ages past,\nmust have been the most beautiful of subterranean rivers.\n\nLimestone, or carbonate of lime, which constitutes the strata of rocks\nthrough which the cave runs, is soluble in water when it combines with\nan additional proportion of carbonic acid, and is changed into the\nbicarbonate of lime.\n\nIn this way the process of excavation continued until communication\nwith running water was established, and the mechanical agency made to\nassist the chemical. Another disintegrating power is the\ncrystallization of sulphate of lime, known also under the names of\ngypsum, plaster-of-Paris, alabaster, etc. The force of gypsum in the\nact of crystallizing is equal to that of water in freezing, and, when\nit occurs between ledges of rock, they are fractured in every\ndirection. Many instances of this may be seen.\n\nAs to the mechanical agencies in the excavation of the cave, they are\ninstanced in the transportation of gravel, clay, and sand from one\npart to another. By observing the points at which they are deposited,\nand the order in which they come, it is possible to tell the direction\nin which the water formerly ran in many of the avenues, and the\nrapidity of its motion. But enough of technicalities--the entrance to\nthe \u201cLong Route\u201d is before us in the crevice before mentioned,\nsituated behind Giant\u2019s Coffin.\n\nThe first new name which strikes upon the ear is that of Wooden\nBowl--an apartment deriving its name from the fact of a bowl being\nfound here, such a one as was used by the Indians. Various traditions\nof this race meet the explorer in other parts of the cave; among\nothers, that of a mummified female and child found in Gothic Avenue,\nin 1815, said to have been sent to the Antiquarian Society of\nWorcester, Massachusetts, and to be still there in a dilapidated\ncondition; another still more remarkable mummy is said to have been       628\nexhumed in one of the neighboring small caves, and sent to Cincinnati,\nwhere it was burnt in the museum many years ago.\n\nIf such discoveries were really made, it is a matter of profound\nregret that these relics of an unknown past should have been removed\nfrom their resting-places, where they were secure from the ravages of\ntime, and would, at the present day, greatly enhance the interest of\nMammoth Cave.\n\nWe descend the Steps of Time, which is an unpleasant reminder to those\nof us who already feel stiff in the joints, and enter Martha\u2019s Palace,\nnot so palatial as its name implies, but near by is a spring of clear\nwater, which all hail with pleasure. Side-Saddle Pit and Minerva\u2019s\nDome are soon passed, and we reach Bottomless Pit. Do not shudder!\nthere is no necessity of descending, and there is bottom at the\ndistance of one hundred and seventy-five feet. It was not until the\nyear 1838 that it was supposed possible to bridge this fearful chasm;\nit was then crossed by Stephen, the celebrated black guide, who is\nidentified with most of the discoveries. We now cross on a substantial\nwooden structure, known as the Bridge of Sighs. This leads to the\nRevellers\u2019 Hall, and, judging from the number of empty and broken\nbottles on the floor of this wild-looking room, all visitors have done\ntheir part to perpetuate the name. A low archway, the Valley of\nHumility, leads to Scotchman\u2019s Trap, a circular opening, through which\nyou descend a flight of stone steps. Directly over the opening hangs a\nhuge flat rock, which would, should it fall, completely close the\navenue to the river. The number of slight, slippery ladders we have\ndescended gives a very realizing sense that we are getting down, down,\ndeep into the bowels of the earth.\n\nWe now enter a narrow avenue serpentining through the solid rock for\nfifty yards, varying in width from eighteen inches to three feet, in\nheight from four to eight feet. This passage has evidently been cut\nthrough by the mechanical agency of water. Any lady or gentleman\nweighing three hundred pounds had better not attempt Fat Man\u2019s Misery,\nfor he may sigh in vain for \u201cthis too solid flesh to melt,\u201d and this\nremarkably solid rock will not yield a hair\u2019s-breadth to anything less\nthan water charged with carbonic acid. Such squeezing and groaning,\nbroken backs, etc.! but these are forgotten when we emerge in Great\nRelief. The avenue which leads thence to River Styx is River Hall, but\nwe leave this for the present, and on our right enter Bacon Chamber,\nwhere may be seen a fine collection of limestone _hams_ depending\nfrom the ceiling. After walking three-fourths of a mile in Sparks\u2019\nAvenue, we reach Mammoth Dome, the largest in the cave; it is two\nhundred and fifty feet in height. Climbing over immense shelving\nrocks, whose jagged sides and yawning crevices offer slight foothold\nand a very unpleasant prospect in case of a fall, we reach the top of\na terrace forty feet from the base, where the view is taken. A grand,\nsolemn spectacle it is! At the left extremity are five large pillars,\ncalled Corinthian Columns. A vast, solitary waste stretches out before\nthe eye on every side; gloomy recesses and yawning abysses,\nilluminated by the weird blue-lights, form a sublime picture. One can\nonly fancy it to be the primal state of chaos. The descent from the\nterrace of rocks is even more perilous than the ascent, but, once in\nthe avenue, we return quickly to River Hall. Our attention is now\ndrawn to a body of water forty feet below, called Dead Sea, a gloomy      629\nspot, deserving its name. Passing on, the distant roar of invisible\nwaterfalls strikes the ear, and at the foot of the slope we are\ndescending lies the River Styx:\n\n    \u201cWhere the dark rock o\u2019erhangs the infernal lake,\n     And mingling streams eternal murmurs make.\u201d\n\nThis river is one hundred and fifty yards long, from fifteen to forty\nin width, and in depth varies from thirty to forty feet. It has a\nsubterranean communication with other rivers of the cave, and, when\nthey rise to a great height, an open communication with all of them.\nThe Natural Bridge spans River Styx about thirty feet above it.\n\nThe next body of water we approach is quite peaceful, and, the ceiling\nbeing ninety feet above the surface, one loses the cavernous sensation\nof the gloomy overhanging rocks. Lake Lethe is one hundred and fifty\nyards long, and, being crossed in boats not large enough to convey all\nof the party at once, some of our number embark, with Charon himself\nat the helm. All are hushed by the solemnity of the scene, the lamps\nshed a dim light upon the rippling water and phantom boat, which\nsilently glides outward and on around a projecting angle of rock, when\nit is lost to vision. For those who wait upon the shore the return of\nthe boat, this is a solemn moment; we felt ourself a ghost, doomed to\nwander a hundred years ere Charon would ferry us over Avernus! After a\nbrief interval of this musing, a faint light appears from behind the\nrock which before intercepted our view. Charon with his solitary lamp\nin the prow of the boat is returning; soon we also embark, but not\nbefore we had drunk of the waters of Lethe, that all experience of the\nupper world might be forgotten, for now we enter into dream life. Our\nfriends who had preceded us formed a picturesque group waiting as we\nneared the shore. The bright dresses, the lights throwing fitful gleam\nand shadow into the darkness beyond, and our own gliding motion, form\na picture not soon forgotten. Upon disembarking we enter Great Walk,\nextending from the Lake to Echo River, the floor of which is covered\nwith yellow sand. Reaching the river, we all embark in a large boat,\nand soon find ourselves in a very contracted space, the rocks overhead\nbeing only three feet above the surface of the water. Stooping under\nthe narrow archway for fifteen or twenty feet, we finally emerge into\nthe open river, with the ceiling about fifteen feet above. At some\npoints the river is two hundred feet wide, in depth it varies from ten\nto thirty feet. The water is now transparently clear, rocks can be\nseen twenty feet below, and the boat seems passing through the air.\nThe illusion is heightened by the fact of our guide using no oars\nhere, propelling the boat by a staff applied at intervals to the\nceiling or side walls. We avoided looking at him, that we might still\nfancy ourself wafted over these mysterious waters by some invisible\nagency. Here is no feeling of danger, only a dreamy, delicious content\nto float on thus for ever into the \u201cSilent Land.\u201d\n\nAn occasional song to wake the far-famed echoes is the only sound to\ndisturb the stillness and the unutterable thoughts which fill the\nsoul. Echo River is an idyl! Alas! that it should be so short--yet\nthree-quarters of a mile of bliss should compensate poor human nature\nfor many ills. Some of the gentlemen, in the adventurous spirit of\nyouth, made their passage through a rugged avenue called Purgatory;\nfrom their description of which we prefer journeying to paradise by\nthe river. Landing on the farther banks, we enter Silliman\u2019s Avenue,      630\nextending a mile and a half to the Pass of El Ghor, the walls and\nceilings of which, being of recent formation, are rugged and\nwater-worn. Here is Cascade Hall, a circular chamber with vaulted\nceiling, from which falls a stream of sparkling water, disappearing\nthrough a pit in the floor. The avenue leading to Roaring River takes\nits rise in this hall.\n\nThe Infernal Region is an irregular down-hill passage, the floor\ncovered with wet clay. Such essentially and persistently sticky mud\nwas probably never known above ground. The scrambling, slipping,\nmiring, ejaculating crowd made an amusing scene. Our black guide, Mat,\nis a character, rarely relaxing into a smile, but displays a grim\nhumor by saying \u201cSot her up,\u201d when some heavier slush than usual\nreveals the fact that somebody is down. Now, sotting her up is not\nnearly as easy as sotting her down. In some places the water is\nankle-deep. Here the gentlemen pick up the ladies, and carry the fair\ncreatures to dry ground. Several laughable incidents were the\nconsequence of this man\u0153uvre. One gentleman, feeling the mud slipping\nunder his feet, fancied himself in a quicksand, and hurriedly set his\nwife down in the water to rescue himself. Another, a bashful young\nswain, felt a delicacy about the manner of picking up his young lady,\nso carried her under one arm, her heels on a line with her head. What\na funny picture those little dangling boots presented! Alas! for the\nuncertainty of human events. When we started out fresh in the morning,\nwe had observed the secret pride with which that young woman\ncontemplated her jaunty tasselled boots, the neatest fit in the party,\nand amply displayed by her short dress.\n\nWe are now quite willing to climb the Hill of Fatigue, leading to dry\nground. Among many names and objects of interest we shall only mention\nOle Bull\u2019s Concert-Room, where the great violinist performed, on his\nfirst tour through the United States. The Pass of El Ghor, two miles\nin length, is one of the most picturesque avenues in the cave, its\nnarrow and lofty sides changing into every variety of uncouth,\nfantastic shapes; again, the hanging rocks overhead suggest the idea\nof imminent danger, but we are assured by the guide that no rocks have\nfallen during his time, a period of thirty years.[127]\n\nThis pass finally communicates with a large body of water, the \u201cMystic\nRiver,\u201d which has not been explored by visitors. Ascending a very\nhigh, steep ladder, we enter Martha\u2019s Vineyard, twenty feet above the\nPass of El Ghor. Here a stalagmite, extending from the floor to the\nceiling, forms the stem of a _grapevine_, from which all over the\nwalls and ceiling depend bunches of black _grapes_--nodules of\ncarbonate of lime, colored with the black oxide of iron--and here the\nvintage never fails, for is there not sulphur at hand?\n\nAn avenue directly over Martha\u2019s Vineyard, which we did not explore,\nis said to contain a miniature chapel of stalactites, in a dark room\nadjoining which, without ornament of any kind, is a grave hewn out of\nthe rock. This was considered so suggestive by a Catholic priest that\nhe named it the Holy Sepulchre.\n\nThe next place of great and general interest is Washington Hall, where\nwere unpacked the hampers carried by the extra guide, detailed for that\npurpose. Keen appetites were brought to bear upon the liberal luncheon    631\nsupplied by the proprietor of the hotel. Some of the party had added\nchampagne, so we filled generous bumpers to the genii of the cave.\nAfter an hour spent in rest and refreshment, we leave Washington Hall,\nand, passing through Snow-Ball Room, covered with nodules of white\ngypsum, enter Cleveland Cabinet, an avenue two miles in length, and so\nbeautiful that the sight of it alone would fully repay for the fatigue\nand time devoted to the cave.\n\nIt is a perfect arch of fifty feet span, averaging the height of ten\nfeet in the centre. Thus every part may be viewed with ease. From\nsummit to base is a dazzling expanse of alabaster bloom--a grand\nconservatory where the Snow Flora moulds her _flowers_ ere she\ntransports them to the upper world and endows them with a soul. Here\nare clusters of pale white roses sprinkled with diamond dew, waiting\nonly the enchantress\u2019 wand to convert them into a coronal for some\nfair bride; again, a perfect cross of flowers, which may yet be the\nonly companion of a rare soul entombed. Stately lilies, nodding\ntulips, graceful fern shapes, are showered in endless profusion on\nthese fairy walls. Here and there are little niches lined with\nflowers, a feathery veil of rock bloom hanging over the entrance. We\npeep in curiously, but no Peri is there. This seems truly the\n\u201cEnchanted Palace of Sleep,\u201d but the princess is too deeply hidden for\nmortal eyes to discover.\n\nLingeringly we leave this wondrous scene. At the very end is pointed\nout the last rose of summer, resting against the ceiling; it is of\nsnowy whiteness, about eight inches in diameter, and is really the\nlast to be seen in the avenue. A short distance beyond is Rocky\nMountain, one hundred feet high, composed of large rocks which have\nevidently fallen from above. On top of the mountain is a stalagmite\ncalled Cleopatra\u2019s Needle--why a needle, and wherefore Cleopatra\u2019s, I\nam unable to explain. We are now nearing the end of the cave, and to\nthe weary of our band the mountain seems an insurmountable obstacle,\ntherefore only the more adventurous scale the heights, and, passing\nDismal Hollow, a gorge seventy feet deep and one hundred wide, enter\nCrogan Hall, which constitutes the end of the \u201cLong Route.\u201d It is\ncovered with stalactites, very hard and white, fragments of which are\nworked into ornaments.\n\nThis part of the cave is evidently near the surface of the earth, and\nfrom the comparative abundance of animal life it is probable there is\nan open communication at some point not far distant. The rat found\nhere differs from its Norway brother in that it is a size larger; the\nhead and eyes, which are black and lustrous, resemble those of a\nrabbit, while its soft fur is of a bluish gray and white. Crickets and\nlizards are numerous; they are sluggish in their movements, and the\ncricket never chirps. Why should he, indeed, having neither hearth nor\ntea-kettle to inspire him? All these animals, although provided with\nlarge eyes, seem quite blind when first caught. The fish found in the\nvarious rivers are of the class known as viviparous; they have\nrudiments of eyes, but no optic nerve. There are also eyeless\ncrawfish; both these and the eyeless fish are nearly white.\n\nAt certain seasons ordinary fish, crawfish, and frogs are washed into\nthe rivers of the cave from Green River, the inference being that they\nalso in due course of time lose the power of vision.\n\nAt the end of Crogan Hall we are said to be nine miles from the mouth\nof the cave, and somewhere under ground near Cave City. Here is the       632\nMaelstrom, a frightful pit, one hundred and seventy-five feet deep,\nand twenty wide. It has been explored by two or three adventurous\nspirits, the first of whom was a son of the late George D. Prentice.\n\nIt is needless to describe our return, which was over the ground\nalready explored; devoting less time, of course, to the examination of\nwonders, and not at all tired, for exercise in this exhilarating\natmosphere is unlike that of the upper world. We finally reach the\nentrance, and emerge--into darkness again--for it is nine\nP.M., and only a few twinkling stars remind us that we are not still\nunderground.\n\nI shall not do more than mention Proctor and Diamond Caves, which we\nexplored on the following day, but they excel in stalactitic formation\nand well repay a visit. They are on the direct route to Glasgow, a\nstation three miles nearer than that of Cave City, and where there has\nbeen recently built a comfortable hotel on the site of the ancient\n\u201cBell\u2019s Tavern,\u201d well known to Kentuckians in former days. Those who\nhave never visited Mammoth Cave will scarcely credit the assertion of\nthe guides that two hundred and fifty miles of travel are necessary to\nsee all of the known avenues of the cave. When we add to this the\nstatement that new discoveries are constantly being made which reveal\nthe fact that there is still a wilderness of cave untrodden by the\nfoot of man, speculation passes all bounds.\n\nNone but a soul absolutely impervious to the impressions of the\nsublime and beautiful handiwork of the world\u2019s great Architect, can\nfail to realize the highest expectations in an exploration of this\ngreatest of caves now known.\n\n\n     [126] The cave should be visited in summer and early fall\n     months; at other seasons, the waters of the cave being\n     influenced by all the movements of Green River, a sudden\n     rise in the latter will, in a few hours, cut off\n     communication with the largest and by far the most\n     interesting portion of the cave.\n\n     [127] \u201cOld Mat\u201d is now off duty, but may still be seen about\n     the hotel. He thinks he knows more about the cave than any\n     man living, and still better qualified than the younger\n     guides to exhibit its wonders!\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n                           OUR EPIPHANY.\n\n\n          What though we cannot, with the star-led kings,\n            Adore the swaddled Babe of Bethlehem!\n          Behold, as sweet a Benediction[128] brings\n            A new Epiphany denied to them.\n          The Mary Mystical \u2018tis ours to see\n            Still from his crib the little Jesus take,\n          And show him to us on her altar-knee,\n            And sing to him to bless us for her sake.\n          Shall we the while be kneeling giftless there?\n            In loving faith a richer gold shall please,\n          A costlier incense in the humblest prayer,\n            Nor less the myrrh of penitence than these:\n          And there between us holy Priesthood stands,\n            Our own Saint Joseph, with the chosen hands.\n\n     [128] Benediction of the Blessed Sacrament.\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n                    THE COSMIC PHILOSOPHY.[129]                           633\n\n\nHerbert Spencer has often been alluded to in our pages, and one of his\nworks, that on _Biology_, has been specially noticed by us. He is\nusually classed with the positivists, and we have ourselves so classed\nhim; but he protests against this classification, and, after studying\ncarefully, or as carefully as our patience would permit, the volume\nbefore us, we confess the classification appears to be inexact, and\neven unjust to the positivists. There are considerable differences\nbetween his philosophy and the _Philosophie Positive_ as we find it\nset forth by M. E. Littr\u00e9, its greatest living chief; for, as set\nforth by its founder, M. Auguste Comte, in his own works, we would\nrather not speak, for, to confess the truth, we have never had the\npatience to read them so as to master their doctrines. Yet, as far as\nwe do know the system, it differs on several points, and much to its\nadvantage, from the cosmic philosophy set forth in Mr. Spencer\u2019s\n_First Principles_, especially as to the relativity of knowledge and\nthe theory of evolution. It is the product of a higher order of mind\nthan Mr. Spencer can boast, and of a mind originally trained in a\nbetter school.\n\nMr. Herbert Spencer is a man of considerable native ability, of\nrespectable attainments in what is called modern science, and a fair\nrepresentative of contemporary English thought and mental tendencies;\nbut he has made a sad mistake in attempting to be a philosopher, for\nhe lacks entirely the _ingegno filosofico_, and we have not discovered\na single trace of a philosophic principle, thought, or conception in\nany or all of his several works. He is or might be a physicist, or\nwhat old Ralph Cudworth terms a _physiologer_, perhaps not much\ninferior to old Leucippus or Democritus, but he has not in him the\nmakings of a philosopher, and his cosmic theories are not even\nplausible to a philosophic mind.\n\n\u201cIn the kingdom of the blind, the one-eyed is king.\u201d The not\ninconsiderable reputation Mr. Herbert Spencer seems to have acquired\nis probably due not to his merits so much as to the low state into\nwhich philosophical studies have fallen in the Anglo-Saxon world, and\nthe tendency to anti-Christian and anti-religious theories and\nspeculations which Protestantism, when it begins to examine its own\nfoundation and to account for itself, everywhere encourages. The party\nwe meet here and in England, with \u201cadvanced views\u201d as they are called,\nand which every day grows in numbers and strength, welcomes with\nenthusiasm any and every writer who helps or promises to help them to\nexplain the problem of the universe on physical principles, without\nrecurring to the supernatural or the fact of creation. The party,\nprofoundly ignorant of Christian theology and philosophy, and devoted\nto the study of physical facts and phenomena alone, have persuaded\nthemselves that Christianity is unscientific, and that it tends to\ndegrade men, to enfeeble reason, and to prevent the free expansion of     634\nthought; and they regard as their benefactor whoever is able to\nstrengthen their cosmic or atheistic tendency. Such a man they esteem\nMr. Herbert Spencer. He is apparently just the man to be accepted as\nthe chief of the sect, or the philosopher of negation. Its adherents\nwish not for their leader an avowed atheist or pantheist, for the\nworld is not just yet advanced enough for that, but they do wish one\nwho is skilful in disguising his atheism or pantheism in the forms and\nterms of science; and who can do this more successfully than Herbert\nSpencer?\n\nMr. Spencer divides his book into two parts. In Part I. he treats of\nwhat he calls \u201cThe Unknowable\u201d; in Part II. he treats of what he calls\n\u201cThe Knowable.\u201d Under the head of \u201cThe Unknowable\u201d he seeks the\nrelation of science and religion, to ascertain the ultimate verity or\nideas of each, and to show the ground on which they meet and are\nreconciled. He asserts that all knowledge is relative, is knowledge of\nphenomena alone, which are nothing outside of their relation to\nconsciousness, itself phenomenal, and to a Something underlying them,\nand of which they are the appearances or which they manifest. We are\ncompelled to admit, he says, this Something, because the phenomena\ncannot be thought without it; and as we can assign no limit to these\nmanifestations, we are compelled to assert this Something, Power,\nBeing, or Reality is infinite. But this Infinite Something which is\nthe reality of the cosmos is absolutely unknowable and even\nunthinkable. How, then, can it be asserted?\n\nEvery religion seeks the solution of the problem of the universe, the\nexplanation of the great cosmic mystery that surrounds us on all\nsides, and all religions agree that the solution is in this infinite\nReality or Something, which is absolutely unknowable, absolutely\ninscrutable. The ultimate religious ideas or highest and most\ncomprehensive generalizations of religious conceptions are, first, the\nassertion of this incognizable and incogitable Something; and, second,\nthat the solution of the problem exceeds all human powers.\n\nScience deals with the same cosmic problem, and, rising by\ngeneralization to generalization of the cosmic phenomena up to the\nhigher and broadest possible, is compelled to admit the same Infinite\nSomething, and to admit that it is not cognizable nor cogitable.\nConsequently, the ultimate scientific ideas are identical with the\nultimate religious ideas. Both religion and science are fused\ntogether, and reconciled without any compromise, and the old feud\nbetween them extinguished, in the bosom of the Infinite Unknowable.\n\n          \u201cHe makes a solitude, and calls it peace.\u201d\n\nAs we have no predisposition to accept the new system of philosophy,\nwe cannot find this conclusion perfectly satisfactory. The cosmists\nobject to the Comteans or positivists that they absorb the cosmos in\nman and society; the cosmists, on the other hand, seem to us to absorb\nman and society in the cosmos, and subject them to the same physical\nlaw Mr. Emerson does when he asserts the identity of gratitude and\ngravitation. By asserting that only phenomena are cognizable, and\nsubjecting man to the common cosmic law, they include him in the\ncosmic phenomena, and make him simply an appearance or manifestation\nof the unknowable, without any real or substantive existence of his\nown. We thus lose in the infinite variety of the cosmic phenomena both\nthe thinking subject and the object thought. The soul is a cosmic         635\nappearance.\n\nFurthermore, by declaring the phenomenal cannot be thought in and by\nitself without the Infinite Something that underlies it as its ground\nor reality, and then declaring that something to be unknowable,\nunthinkable even, the new system declares that there is no knowable,\nand consequently no science or knowledge at all. The new system of\nphilosophy, then, reconciles science and religion only in a universal\nnegation, that is, by really denying both. This can hardly satisfy\neither a scientist or a Christian.\n\nIn the second part, Mr. Spencer defines philosophy to us, as near as\nwe can come at his sense, to be the unification of the several\nreligions and several sciences in their respective or special\ngeneralizations in a generalization that comprehends them all.\nGeneralization with him means the elimination of the _differentia_,\nor abstraction. He therefore, in making philosophy a generalization,\nmakes it an abstraction, and, so to speak, the abstraction of all\nparticular abstractions. But abstractions in themselves are nullities,\nand consequently philosophy is a nullity, and science and religion are\nnullities. Mr. Spencer maintains that we have \u201csymbolic conceptions,\u201d\nin which nothing is conceived--symbols which symbolize nothing. Is his\n\u201cnew system of philosophy\u201d anything but a generalization and\nunification of these \u201csymbolic conceptions\u201d?\n\nMr. Spencer starts with the assumption that all religions, including\natheism, have a verity in common as well as an error. The verity must\nbe that in which they all agree; the error, in their differences, or\nin the matters in which they do not agree. Eliminate the differences\nand take what is common to them all, and you will have the universal\nverity which they all assert. But what verity is common to truth and\nfalsehood, to theism and atheism? The verity common to religion and\nscience, that the solution of the cosmic mystery is unknowable? But\nthat is not a verity; it is a mere negation, and all truth is\naffirmative.\n\nAtheism is not a religion, but the negation of all religion. Exclude\nthat, take all religions from fetichism to Christianity inclusive;\neliminate the _differentia_, and take what they all agree in asserting.\nBe it so. All religions, without a single exception, however rude or\nhowever polished, agree in asserting the supernatural, and that, if\nthe cosmic mystery is inexplicable by human means, it is explicable by\nsupernatural means. A true application of Mr. Spencer\u2019s rule, the\n_consensus hominum_, would assert as the common verity the supernatural,\nthat is, the supercosmic, which is precisely what the cosmic\nphilosophy denies and is invented to deny. Mr. Spencer does not appear\nto be master of his own tools.\n\nAll religions concede that the cosmic mystery is inexplicable by our\nunassisted powers, by secondary causes, or by physical laws; but none\nof them admits that it is absolutely inexplicable, for each religion\nprofesses to be its explanation. Mr. Spencer is wrong in asserting\nthat all are seeking to solve the cosmic mystery; for each proposes\nitself as its solution, and it is only as such that it claims to be or\ncan be called a religion. The question for the philosopher is, Do any\nof these religions give us a solution which reason, in the freest and\nfullest exercise of its powers, can accept, and, if so, which one is\nit?\n\nMr. Spencer tells us, p. 32: \u201cRespecting the origin of the universe,\nthree verbally intelligible suppositions may be made. We may assert\nthat it is self-existent, or that it is self-created, or that it is       636\ncreated by an external agency.\u201d The second supposition he rejects as\nthe pantheistic hypothesis, which is a mistake, for no pantheist or\nanybody else asserts that the universe creates itself. The pantheist\ndenies that it is created at all; and the philosopher denies that it\ncreates itself; for, since to create is to act, self-creation would\nrequire the universe to act before it existed. The third supposition,\nwhich the author calls \u201cthe theistical hypothesis,\u201d he denies, because\nit explains nothing, and is useless. He explains it to mean that the\nuniverse is produced by an artificer, after the manner of a human\nartificer in producing a piece of furniture from materials furnished\nto his hand. \u201cBut whence come the materials?\u201d The question might be\npertinent if asked of Plato or Aristotle, neither of whom was a\ntheist; but not when asked of a Christian theologian, who holds that\nGod creates or created all things from nothing, that is, without\npre-existing materials, by \u201cthe sole word of his power.\u201d\n\nThe first supposition, the self-existence of the universe, the author\ndenies, not because the universe is manifestly contingent and must\nhave had a beginning, and therefore a cause or creator; but because\nself-existence is absolutely inconceivable, an impossible idea. He\nsays, p. 35: \u201cThe hypothesis of the creation of the universe by an\nexternal agency is quite useless; it commits us to an infinite series\nof such agencies, and then leaves us where it found us.\u201d \u201cThose who\ncannot conceive of the self-existence of the universe, and therefore\nassume a creator as the source of the universe, take it for granted\nthat they can conceive a self-existent creator. The mystery of the\ngreat fact surrounding them on every side they transfer to an alleged\nsource of this great fact, and then suppose they have solved the\nmystery. But they delude themselves, as was proved in the outset of\nthe argument. _Self-existence_ is _rigorously inconceivable_, and this\nholds true whatever be the nature of the object [subject] of which it\nis predicated. Whoever argues that the atheistical hypothesis is\nuntenable because it involves the impossible idea of self-existence,\nmust perforce admit that the theistical hypothesis is untenable if it\ncontains the same impossible idea.\u201d But who ever argued that the\natheistical hypothesis is untenable because it involves the idea of\nself-existence? Atheism is denied because it asserts the\nself-existence of that which cannot be, and is known not to be,\nself-existent.\n\nBut it is evident that the author rejects alike self-existence and\ncreation; that the cosmos is self-existent, or that it is created by\nan independent, self-existent, and supercosmic creator. How, then, can\nhe assert the existence of the cosmos, real or phenomenal, at all? The\ncosmos either exists or it does not. If it does not, that ends the\nmatter. If it does, it must be either created or self-existent; for\nthe author rejects an infinite series as absurd, and self-creation as\nonly an absurd form of expressing self-existence. But as the author\ndenies self-existence, whatever the subject of which it is predicated,\nand also the fact of creation, it follows rigorously, if he is right,\nthat the cosmos does not exist. The author cannot take refuge in his\nfavorite _nescio_, or say we do not know the origin of the cosmos,\nfor he has positively denied it every possible origin, and therefore\nhas by implication denied it all existence. A moment ago, we showed\nthat he denied by implication all science or knowledge, and now we see    637\nthat, if held rigorously to his system as he explains it, he denies\nall existence, and, by implication at least, asserts absolute\nnihilism. Surely there is no occasion to apply to his new system of\nphilosophy the _reductio ad absurdum_.\n\nThe author is necessarily led to the assertion that at least nothing\nis knowable by his doctrine, that all knowledge is relative. The\nComtists restrict, in theory, all knowledge to sensible things, their\nmutual relations, dependencies, and the conditions and laws of their\ndevelopment and progress; but they at least admit that these may be\nobjects of science and positively known. But our cosmic philosopher\ndenies this, and asserts the relativity of all knowledge. We know and\ncan know only the relative that is, only what is relative to the\nabsolute, and relative to our own consciousness. In this he follows\nSir William Hamilton, J. Stuart Mill, and the late Dr. Mansel,\nAnglican Dean of St. Paul\u2019s. But relative knowledge is simply no\nknowledge, because in it nothing is known. The relative is not\ncognizable nor cogitable in and by itself, because it in and by\nitself, or prescinded from that to which it is relative, does not\nexist, and is simply nothing. What neither is nor exists is not\ncognizable nor cogitable. The relativity of all knowledge, then, is\nsimply the denial of all knowledge. It is idle, then, for Mr. Spencer\nto talk of science. His science is only a laborious ignorance.\n\nMr. Spencer labors hard to prove the relativity of all knowledge. He\neither proves it or he does not. If he does not, he has no right to\nassert it; if he does, he disproves it at the same time. If the proof\nis not absolute, it does not prove it; if it is absolute, then it is\nnot true that all knowledge is relative; for the proof must be\nabsolutely known, or it cannot be alleged. We either know that all\nknowledge is relative, or we do not. If we do not, no more need be\nsaid; if we do know it, then it is false, because the knowledge of the\nrelativity of knowledge is itself not relative. The assertion of the\nrelativity of all knowledge, therefore, contradicts and refutes\nitself. No man can doubt that he doubts, or that doubt is doubt, and\ntherefore universal doubt or universal scepticism is impossible, and\nnot even assertable. The same argument applies to the pretence that\nall knowledge is relative.\n\nThe relativists are misled by their dealing with the abstract and not\nthe concrete. They regard all that is or exists either as relative or\nabsolute. But both absolute and relative are abstract conceptions, and\nformed by abstraction from the concrete intuitively presented or\napprehended. They exist, as St. Thomas tells us, only _in mente, cum\nfundamento in re_. There are no abstractions in nature or the cosmos,\nand there is and can be neither abstract science nor science of\nabstractions, for abstractions, prescinded from their concretes, are\nsimply nullities. The absolute is, we grant, unknowable, and so also\nis the relative, for neither has any existence in nature, or _a parte\nrei_. They are both generalizations, and nature never generalizes.\nWhatever exists, exists _in concreto_, not _in genere_. Hence, the _ens\nin genere_ of Rosmini is no _ens reale_, but simply _ens possibile_,\nlike the _reine Seyn_ of Hegel, which is the equivalent of _das\nNichtseyn_; for the possible is only the ability of the real.\n\nNow, because the abstract absolute is unknowable, unthinkable even, it\nby no means follows that the concrete, real and necessary being,\ncannot be both thought and known, or that things cannot be both thought   638\nand known in their relations to it, without reducing it to the\ncategory of the relative. Sir William Hamilton says the absolute is\nthe unconditioned, and is incogitable, because our thought necessarily\nconditions it. This would be true if the absolute is an abstraction or\nmental conception, but is false and absurd if applied to real,\nnecessary, infinite, and self-existent being, which, as independent of\nus and all relation, is and must be the same whether we think it or\nnot. The thought does not impose its own conditions and limitations on\nthe object; certainly not when the object is real and necessary being,\nand in every respect independent of it. We cannot, of course, think\ninfinite being infinitely or adequately, but it does not follow that\nwe cannot think it, though finitely and inadequately. The human mind,\nbeing finite, cannot comprehend infinite being; but, nevertheless, it\nmay and does apprehend it, or else Mr. Spencer could not assert the\nInfinite Something, which he says we are compelled to admit underlies\nthe cosmic phenomena and is manifested in them. The human mind can\napprehend more than it can comprehend, and nothing that is\napprehensible, though incomprehensible, is unthinkable or unknowable,\nexcept in Mr. Spencer\u2019s _New System of Philosophy_.\n\nSir William Hamilton says, in defending the relativity of all\nknowledge: \u201cOnly relations are cogitable. Relation is cogitable only\nin correlation, and the relation between correlatives is reciprocal,\neach is relative to the other. Thought is dual, and embraces at once\nsubject and object in their mutual opposition and limitation.\u201d This\nmerely begs the question. Besides, it is not true. Relations are\nthemselves cogitable only in the related; correlatives connote each\nother, so that the one cannot be thought without thinking the other;\nbut not therefore are all relations reciprocal, as the relation\nbetween phenomenon and noumenon, cause and effect, creator and\ncreation. Here are two terms and a relation between them, but no\nreciprocity. When we think cause and effect, we do not think them as\nmutually opposing and limiting each other. The effect cannot oppose or\nlimit the cause, or the creature the creator, for the creature depends\non the creator and is nothing without his creative act, and the effect\nis nothing without the cause which produces and sustains it. The\ncreature depends on the creator, but not the creator on the creature;\nthe effect depends on the cause, but not the cause on the effect.\nThere may, then, be relation without reciprocity.\n\nIt is true, Mr. Spencer denies creation, and relegates all causative\npower to the dark region of the unknowable, and calls the origin of\nthe universe in the creative act of being or God \u201can hypothesis,\u201d and\nrejects it with ill-concealed scorn; yet creation is not \u201can\nhypothesis,\u201d but a scientific fact, and a necessary principle of all\nscience. Without it the cosmos would not be cognizable, for it would\nhave no dialectic constitution. It could not even be thought, for\nevery thought is a judgment, and no judgment is possible where there\nis no copula that joins the predicate to the subject. Rejecting\ncreation, the author cannot assert the relation of cause and effect;\nrejecting cause and effect, he cannot assert even the cosmic\nphenomena. They are not able to stand on their own bottom, and\ntherefore not at all, unless the Something of which they are, as he\nsays, manifestations, is a cause producing and sustaining them. We\nsubmit, then, that Mr. Spencer\u2019s doctrine of the unknowable, and the      639\nrelativity of all knowledge, estops him from asserting anything as\nknowable, for it really denies all the knowable and all the\nreal--_omne scibile et omne reale_.\n\nThe second part of Mr. Spencer\u2019s work on \u201cThe Knowable\u201d we might well\nomit, but as it is that in which he claims to be original, and in\nwhich he supposes he has made most valuable contributions to the\nphilosophy of the cosmos, an omission to examine it might seem\nungracious. Besides, the inventors of new systems of philosophy must\nnot be held too rigidly to the logical consequences of their own\ndoctrines, _non omnia possumus_. It is impossible for the founder to\nforesee all that his doctrine involves, and it is but fair, if he\nreally has said anything new that is true, that it should be\nrecognized, and he receive due credit for it, even if it is an anomaly\nin his general system of philosophy. We proceed, therefore, to\nconsider Part II.\n\nIn this second part, the author professes to treat the knowable, not\nindeed in its several details, but in its first principles, or\nultimate generalizations. The generalization of a group of phenomena\nis science; the generalization of the several groups of phenomena\nobservable in the cosmos constitutes the several special sciences; and\nthe combination of these special sciences into one higher and more\ncomprehensive generalization, which embraces them all, is philosophy.\nIn constructing philosophy, the author, be it observed, like the coral\ninsect, begins below and works upward, and bases the universal on the\nparticular.\n\nThe great point, or novelty, in this second part, however, is\nunquestionably, as the author claims, the doctrine of Evolution. By\nevolution, the author does not understand evolving or unfolding, as do\nordinary mortals; but the aggregation or contraction and diffusion,\naccording to certain laws which he has determined, of matter, motion,\nand force. Evolution consists, therefore, of two processes,\ncontraction and diffusion, and is either simple or compound. Simple\nevolution is where concentration and diffusion follow each other\nalternately; compound evolution is where the two processes go on\nsimultaneously in the same subject, which may be said to be growing\nand decaying, or living and dying, at one and the same time.\n\nMinerals, plants, and animals, including man, are all formed by the\nevolution of matter, motion, and force. The elimination or loss of\nmotion, mechanical, chemical, or electrical, is followed by the\nconcentration of matter and force, which may assume the form of a\npebble, a diamond, a nettle, a rose, an oak, a jelly-fish, a tadpole,\na monkey, a man. Life is simply the product of \u201cthe mechanical,\nchemical, and electrical arrangement of particles of matter.\u201d The\nconcentration of motion is followed by a diffusion or dispersion of\nmatter and force, and the disappearance of the several groups of\nphenomena we have just named; but as matter is indestructible, and as\nthere is always the same quantity of motion and force, they disappear\nonly to reappear in new groups or transformations. The diffusion of\nthe mineral may be the birth of the plant; of the plant, the birth of\nthe animal; of the ape, may be a new concentration which gives birth\nto man. Nothing is lost. The cosmos is a ceaseless evolution; is, so\nto speak, in a state of perpetual flux and reflux, in which diffusion\nof one group of phenomena is followed by the birth of another, in\nendless rotation, or life from death, and death from life. Dissolution    640\nfollows concentration \u201cin eternal alternation,\u201d or both go on\ntogether. This is not a new doctrine, but substantially the doctrine\nof a school of Greek philosophers, warred against both by Plato and\nAristotle, that all things are in a state of ceaseless motion, of\ngrowth and decay, in which corruption proceeds from generation, and\ngeneration from corruption, in which death is born of life, and life\nis born of death. Our cosmic philosophers only repeat the long since\nexploded errors of the old cosmists. But pass over this.\n\nThe author is treating of the knowable. We ask him, then, how he\ncontrives to know that there is any such evolution as he asserts? He\nassumes that matter, motion, and force are the constituent elements of\nthe cosmos; but he can neither know it nor prove it, since he\nmaintains that what matter is, or what motion is, or what force is, is\nunknown and unknowable. He denies the relation of cause and effect, or\nat least that it is cognizable; how, then, can he assert the cosmic\nphenomena are only concentrations and diffusions of matter, motion,\nand force? A certain elimination of motion and a corresponding\nconcentration of matter and force produces the rose, another produces\nan ape, another produces a man, says the author of this new system of\nphilosophy. Does he know that he is only a certain concentration of\nmatter and force, resulting from a certain diffusion or loss of\nmotion? Can he not only think, but prove it? But all proof, all\ndemonstration, as all reasoning, nay, sensible intuition itself,\ndepends on the principle of cause and effect; for, unless we can\nassert that the sensation within is _caused_ by some object without\nthat affects the sensible organism, we can assert nothing outside of\nus, not even a phenomenon or external appearance. How does the author\nknow, or can he know, that he differs from the ape only in the\ndifferent combination of matter, motion, and force?\n\nMr. Spencer, in his work on _Biology_, asserts that life results from\nthe mechanical, chemical, and electrical arrangement of the particles\nof matter. If this were so, it would, on the author\u2019s own principles,\nexplain nothing. It would be only saying that a certain group of\nphenomena is accompanied by another group, which we call life, but not\nthat there is any causal relation between them. That the supposed\narrangement of the particles of matter originates the life Mr. Spencer\ncannot assert without the intuition of cause and causes he either\ndenies or banishes to the unknowable. Analytical chemistry resolves,\nwe are told, the diamond into certain gases; but is synthetic\nchemistry able to recombine the gases so as to produce a diamond?\nProfessor Huxley finds, he thinks, the physical basis of life in\nprotoplasm. Protoplasm is not itself life, according to him, but its\nbasis. How does he know, since he denies causality, that life is or\ncan be developed from protoplasm? Protoplasm, chemically analyzed, is\nresolved into certain well-known gases; but it is admitted that\nsynthetic chemistry is unable to recombine them and reproduce\nprotoplasm. Evidently, as in the case of the diamond, there is in the\nproduction of protoplasm some element which even analytic chemistry\nfails to detect. No synthetic chemistry can obtain the protoplasm from\nprotein, and there is no instance in which life, feeling, thought and\nreason, are known, or can be proved, to result from dead matter, or\nfrom any possible combinations of matter, motion, and force. If it\ncould so result, the fact could not be proved, and would remain for       641\never in the unknowable.\n\nThe new philosophy resolves all the cosmic phenomena into the\nconcentration and diffusion of the unknowable elements called matter,\nmotion, and force. The quantities of these elements remain always the\nsame, but they are in a state of constant evolution, and all the\ncosmic phenomena result from this evolution, and are simply changes or\ntransformations of the same force. Now, the evolution either has had a\nbeginning or it has not. If it has not, we must assume an infinite\nseries of evolutions, or concentrations and diffusions; but an\ninfinite series is absurd, and the author himself denies it. Then it\nmust have had a beginning; but no phenomenon can begin to exist\nwithout a cause independent of the phenomenon, or the _causatum_. But\nthe author denies the cause in denying the origin of the cosmos in\ncreation, or its production by a supercosmic creator. We are sadly at\nloss, then, to conceive how he contrives, consistently with his new\nsystem, to assert either the law of evolution, or even evolution\nitself. Will he tell us how he does it?\n\nWe need not follow the author through the alleged facts and\nillustrations by which he seeks to explain and sustain his system of\nevolution; because evolution is not assertable on his own principles,\nnor is it provable _aliunde_ by any possible deductions or inductions\nof science. So far from being science, it is not even an admissible\nhypothesis; because it contradicts and refutes itself. Mr. Spencer has\nattempted to construct a system of philosophy or explication of the\ncosmic phenomena, and the law of their production or transformation,\nwithout recurrence to any metaphysical principles, and from physical\nprinciples alone, or by the generalization of the physical phenomena\nas they appear to the human consciousness in space and time, and has\nnecessarily failed; because the physical principles themselves, and\nconsequently the physical phenomena, are inexplicable and\ninconceivable even, without the principles discarded as metaphysical.\nThe author\u2019s whole theory of evolution depends on the assumed fact of\nthe indestructibility of matter, the continuity of motion, and the\npersistence of force, not one of which can be asserted without the\nideal intuition of being, substance, and cause, all three metaphysical\nprinciples, and as such relegated by the author to the region of the\nunknowable. The indestructibility of matter can be deduced or induced\nfrom no possible observation of sensible phenomena. The continuity of\nmotion or the persistence of force is no fact of consciousness. Mr.\nSpencer himself says, to science or the explication of phenomena, the\npresent must be linked with the past and with the future, and hence he\nargues the indestructibility of matter, the continuity of motion, and\nthe persistence of force; but not one of them is a fact of\nconsciousness. Consciousness is the recognition of one\u2019s self as\nsubject in the present act of thought, and looks neither before nor\nafter, takes cognizance neither of the past nor of the future, and\nconsequently of no link connecting them with the present.\nIndestructibility, continuity, persistence, all of which imply\ncognitions of the past and future, are not and cannot be facts of\nconsciousness, which is cognition only of the present. Matter and\nmotion, the author says, are derivative, derived from force, which\nalone is primitive. The indestructibility of matter and the continuity\nof motion depend, then, solely on the persistence of force, and are\napprehensible, therefore, only in apprehending that persistence; but      642\nthat persistence is not a fact of consciousness. How, then, can it be\nasserted, unless force is, and is apprehended as, a persistent\nsubstance? But substance is unknowable.\n\nThe author adopts the method of the physicists, the so-called\ninductive method, and proceeds from particular phenomena to induce by\ngeneralization their law; but no induction is valid that is not made\nby virtue of a general principle, which is not itself inferable from\nthe phenomenal, and must be given and held by the mind before any\ninduction is possible. This is the condemnation of the method of the\nphysicists, for, from phenomena alone, only phenomena can be obtained.\nA method without principles is null, and leads only to nullity. The\nauthor does not understand that the reason why the cosmic phenomena\nare not cogitable without the assumption of the cosmic reality\nunderlying them, is because the mind intuitively apprehends them as\ndependent on something which they are not, and at the same time, and\nin the same intellectual act, intuitively apprehends a reality beyond\nthem, which by its causative act produces and sustains them. He is\nwrong in declaring that the something real is unknowable; it may be\nincomprehensible, but, as we have seen, it must be cognizable, or\nnothing is cognizable.\n\nThat the men who follow in the physical sciences the physical or, as\nthey say, the inductive method, inducing general conclusions from\nparticular facts or phenomena, have really advanced those sciences,\nand by their untiring labors and exhaustless patience achieved all but\nmiracles in the application of science to the mechanical and\nproductive arts from which trade and industry have so largely\nprofited, we by no means deny; but they have done so because the mind,\nin their investigations and inductions, has all along had the\nintuition of the ideal principle which legitimates their\ngeneralizations, that of being or substance, and its creative or\ncausative act, but of which they take no heed, or to which they do not\nadvert; as St. Augustine says, the mind really has cognition of God in\nthe idea of the perfect, but does not ordinarily advert to the fact.\nThey suppose they obtain the law they assert by logical inference from\nthe phenomena, because they do not observe that the mind has intuition\nof the causative or creative act, which is the ideal principle of the\ninduction. The mind is superior to their philosophy, and they reason\nfar better than they explain their reasoning. We may apply to them the\nadvice Lord Mansfield gave to a man of good sense and sound judgment,\nbut of little legal knowledge, who had been recently appointed a judge\nin one of the British colonies: \u201cGive your decisions,\u201d said his\nlordship, \u201cwithout fear or hesitation; but don\u2019t attempt to give your\nreasons.\u201d So long as they confine themselves to the proper field of\nscientific investigation, they are safe enough; but let them come out\nof that field and attempt to explain the philosophy or the principles\nof their physical science, and they are pretty sure to make sad work\nof it. _Ne sutor ultra crepidam._\n\nMr. Spencer protests against being regarded as an atheist, for he\ndenies the self-existence of the universe, and neither affirms nor\ndenies the existence of God. But _atheist_ means simply _no-theist_,\nand, if he does not assert that God is, he certainly is an atheist. It\nis not necessary, in order to be an atheist, to make a positive denial\nof God. His disciple, Professor John Fiske, who has been lecturing on\nthe cosmic philosophy before Harvard College, contends that the cosmic    643\nphilosophy is not atheistical, because it asserts in the unknowable an\ninfinite power, being, or reality, that underlies the cosmic\nphenomena, of which they are the sensible manifestations; yet this\ndoes not relieve it, because what is asserted is not God, and is not\npretended to be the God of theism, but the reality or substance of the\ncosmos and indistinguishable from it. It is the real, as the phenomena\nare the apparent, cosmos.\n\nThe author denies that he is a pantheist, for he denies the hypothesis\nof self-creation; but, if he is not a pantheist, it is only because he\ndoes not call the unknowable infinite power or being he asserts as the\nreality of the cosmos, that is, the real cosmos, by the name of God,\nDeus, or Theos. But asserting that power as the reality or substance\nof the cosmic phenomena is precisely what is meant by pantheism.\nPantheism, in its modern form, is the assertion of one only substance,\nwhich is the reality of the cosmic phenomena, and the denial of the\ncreation of finite substances, which are the real subject of the\ncosmic manifestations. Pantheism denies the creation of substances or\nsecond causes, and asserts that all phenomena are simply the\nappearances of the one infinite and only substance; and this is\nprecisely what Mr. Spencer undeniably does. The only difference\nbetween atheism and pantheism is purely verbal. The atheist calls the\nreality asserted cosmos or nature, and the pantheist calls it God, but\nboth assert one and the same thing. The power Mr. Spencer asserts is\nsimply the _natura naturans_ of Spinoza, and that is nothing the atheist\nhimself does not accept, and, indeed, assert. Neither asserts, nor\ndoes Mr. Spencer assert, any supercosmic being, or power on which the\ncosmos depends, and the power they do assert is as much cosmic as the\nphenomena themselves. Mr. Spencer\u2019s protest betrays rare theological\nand philosophical ignorance, or is a mere verbal quibble, unworthy a\nman who even pretends to be a philosopher.\n\nMr. Spencer hardly once refers to Christian theology, and, without\never having studied it, evidently would have us think that he\nconsiders it beneath his attention. Yet he, as evidently, has\nconstructed his system for the purpose of undermining and disposing of\nit once for all. This may be seen in the fact that, when he refers to\nreligion at all, it is always to some heathen superstition, which he\nassumes to be the type or germ of all religion, carefully ignoring the\npatriarchal, Hebrew, or Christian religion. He tells us \u201cthe earliest\ntraditions represent rulers as gods or demigods.\u201d This is not true\neven of heathenism, which is in fact an apostasy from the patriarchal\nor primitive religion, or its corruption. The apotheosis of Romulus,\naccording to tradition, took place only after his death, and it is\nonly at a later period that the pagan emperors were held to be gods\nduring their lifetime. Mr. Spencer\u2019s real or affected ignorance of the\nwhole order of religious thought is marvellous, and we cannot forbear\nsaying:\n\n    \u201cThere are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,\n     Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.\u201d\n\nThere is no philosophy or science, if God and his creative act are\nexcluded or ignored, because there is no cosmos left, and neither a\nsubject to know nor an object to be known.\n\nMr. Spencer misapprehends the relations of religion and science, and\nconsequently the conditions of their reconciliation. He says they are\nthe two opposite poles of one and the same globe. This is a mistake.      644\nReligion and science are indeed parts of one whole; but religion,\nwhile it includes science, supplements it by the analogical knowledge\ncalled faith. The truths of faith and of science are always in\ndialectic harmony, and between the Christian faith and real science\nthere is no quarrel, and can be none; for religion only supplies the\ndefect of science, and puts the mind in possession of the solution of\nthe problem of man and the universe, not attainable by science.\n\nThere is a quarrel only when the scientists, in the name of science,\ndeny or impugn the supplementary truths of revelation, and which are\nat least as certain as any scientific truths or facts are or can be;\nor when they reject the great principles of reason itself, which are\nthe basis of all science. Let the scientists confine themselves, as we\nhave said, to the study and classification of facts, or the\ndevelopment and application to them of the undoubted principles of the\nintuitive reason, and not attempt to go beyond their province or the\nproper field of scientific investigation, and there will be no quarrel\nbetween them and the theologians. The quarrel arises when men like\nSpencer, Darwin, Huxley, and others, profoundly ignorant both of\nphilosophy and of theology, or the teachings of revelation, ignoring\nthem, despising them, or regarding them with sovereign contempt, put\nforth baseless theories and hypotheses incompatible with the truths\nalike of reason and faith; and it will continue till they learn that\nan unproved and unprovable theory or hypothesis is not science, nor a\nscientific explanation of the facts either of the soul or of the\ncosmos, and is quite insufficient to warrant a denial of the belief of\nthe great bulk of mankind from the first man down to our own day. Then\nthere may be peace between the theologians and the scientists, but not\ntill then.\n\nWe said, or intended to say, that a philosopher is known by his\nprinciples. We add that he is also known by his method. The physical\nmethod is unscientific and illogical; for it seeks through phenomena\nto arrive at being, and from particulars to obtain general or\nuniversal conclusions. Induction that is not based on a universal\nprinciple can never attain to anything but the particular.\nGeneralizations of particulars are only abstractions, and\nabstractions, prescinded from their concretes, are nullities, as the\npossible, without the real to actualize it, is nothing. There is no\nrising from particulars to the universal unless we start with a\nuniversal principle intuitively given. It is impossible to conclude,\nby logical inference, substance or being from phenomena. The reality\nwhich Mr. Spencer says we are compelled to assert, though itself\nunknowable, as underlying the cosmic phenomena, is no deduction nor\ninduction from these, but is given intuitively as the ideal or\nintelligible in the very act in which the phenomena themselves are\napprehended. Mr. Spencer is wrong in asserting it, as we have said, to\nbe unknowable, and still more so in asserting it as the subject of the\ncosmic phenomena, which is simply pantheism. These phenomena are not\nthe appearances or manifestations of the Infinite Power or Being which\nMr. Spencer asserts as unknowable, but of the finite and dependent\nsubstances which God, the Infinite Being, creates and upholds as\nsecond causes.\n\nThe universal is not contained in the particular, the infinite in the\nfinite, the identical in the diverse, the immutable in the mutable,\nthe persistent in the transitory, unity in plurality, or the actual in\nthe possible, and therefore cannot be concluded from it. The two          645\ncategories are not obtainable, either from the other, by any possible\nlogical inference, and therefore must be given intuitively or neither\nis cognizable; for, though not reciprocal, they connote, as all\ncorrelatives, each the other, since neither is knowable without the\nother. This is the condemnation of the physical or inductive method,\nwhen followed as a method of obtaining the first principles either of\nthe real or of the knowable. We say only what Bacon himself said. He\nsaid and proved that the inductive method is inapplicable in\nphilosophy, or out of the sphere of the physical sciences. The great\nerror has been in attempting to follow it in philosophy, or the\nscience of the sciences, where it is inapplicable, for no science can\nstart without first principles.\n\nWe feel that some apology is due our readers for soliciting their\nattention to anything so absurd as Herbert Spencer\u2019s _New System of\nPhilosophy_; but they must bear in mind that Mr. Spencer is a\nrepresentative man, and has only attempted to bring together and\ncombine into a systematic whole the anti-Christian, anti-theistical,\nand anti-rational theories, hypotheses, and unscientific speculations\nwhich, under the name and forms of science, govern the thought of the\nmodern non-Catholic world. Mr. Spencer\u2019s book, which is a laborious\neffort to give the philosophy or science of nothing, and ends only in\na system of \u201csymbolic conceptions,\u201d in which nothing, according to the\nauthor, is conceived, has, after all, a certain value, as showing that\nthere is no medium or middle ground between Catholicity and atheism,\nas there is none between atheism and nihilism. Mr. Spencer, we should\nthink, is a man who has read comparatively little, and knows less of\nChristian theology or philosophy; he seems to us to be profoundly\nignorant of his own ignorance, as well as of the knowledge other men\nhave. He is only carrying out the system of Sir William Hamilton, Dr.\nMansel, and providing a philosophy for the Darwins, the Huxleys, the\nGaltons, the Lubbocks, the Tyndalls, _et id omne genus_, and has\nsucceeded in proving that no advance has been made by the non-Catholic\nworld on the system of old Epicurus, which is rapidly becoming the\nphilosophy of the whole world outside of the church, and against which\nthe Bascoms, the Hodges, and the McCoshes, with honorable intentions\nand a few fragments of Catholic theology and philosophy, protest in\nvain. This is our apology for devoting so much space to Herbert\nSpencer\u2019s inanities.\n\n\n     [129] _First Principles of a New System of Philosophy._ By\n     Herbert Spencer. Second Edition. New York: Appleton & Co. 1871.\n     12mo, pp. 559.\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n                     ST. CECILIA\u2019s DAY IN ROME.                           646\n\n\nSt. Cecilia is one of the few figures among the representative throng\nof virgin-martyrs that strike us at once as the most familiar, the\nmost lovable, and the most to be exalted. Every one knows the legend\nof her life, and the conversion of her husband and his brother,\nbrought about by her prayers, as also by the miracles she obtained for\ntheir further confirmation in the faith. Her death, in itself a\nmiracle, needs no retelling, neither does the history of her\nwondrously preserved remains, that are now laid in the shrine beneath\nthe altar of _Santa Cecilia in Trastevere_, a church erected, by her\nown wish and behest, on the spot where her palace stood. This church\nis a basilica, and has its altar raised many steps above the level of\nthe mosaic floor of the nave, and the front of the altar turned away\nfrom the people so that the celebrant at Mass stands facing the\ncongregation, as in many other ancient Roman churches. Under the\naltar, on the lower level of the nave, is the shrine of the saint, and\nthere lies her marble image, small and frail, though it is said to be\nlife-sized, and reverently and truly copied from the sleeping body,\nwhose form remained entire and uncorrupted, at least until the last\ntime it was solemnly uncovered. To the right of the church is a dark\nside-chapel, floored with rare mosaic, once the bath-room of the young\nand wealthy patrician, and the consecrated spot where heathen cruelty\ntwice endeavored to put an end to the sweet singer\u2019s life. The actual\nbath is said to be within the railings that divide a narrow portion of\nthe chapel from the rest. There was the first miracle performed, of\nher preservation from the boiling water; there also the second, of the\nprolongation of her life after the three deadly yet ineffectual\nstrokes of the unskilful executioner\u2019s sword. One can fancy the young\nmatron, so childlike in years, so experienced in holiness, lying in\nmeek and chaste expectation of the embraces of her heavenly\nBridegroom, and of the purified reunion with her earthly and virgin\nspouse--while, all the time the wondrous, angel-sustained life lasted,\nthe Christians, her brethren in the faith, her children through\ncharity, would be coming and going, silently as to an altar,\nrejoicingly as to a saint, and learning, from lips on whom the kiss of\npeace of the glorified Jesus was already laid, lessons of fortitude\nand love most precious to their faithful souls. We are told, also,\nthat Urban, the pope, visited her on her glorious death-bed, and, no\ndoubt, he learnt from her entranced soul more than he could teach it\nin its passing hour; learnt, perhaps, things whose sweetness became\nstrength to him in the hour of his own not far distant martyrdom.\n\nCecilia, in her short and heavenly life, seems a fitting model for all\nwomen, and especially for young maidens and wives. She was of those\nwho know well how to put religion before men in its most beautiful\ngarb and most enthralling form; purity with her was no ice-cold stream\nand repellent rocky fastness: it was beauty, it was reward, it was\nglory. Crowns of lilies and roses, heavenly perfume, and angelic\ncompanionship were to be its lovely guerdon; and not otherwise should     647\nit ever be preached, nor otherwise surrounded, when its precepts are\npresented to man. Had we more Cecilias among our Christian women of\nto-day, there would be more Valeriani and Tiburtii among our men, and\nvirtue would be more readily deemed an honor than a yoke; home would\nbe more of a temple, rather than a mere resting-place; home-life more\nof a prayer, rather than a simple idyl. For blamelessness is not\nChristian purity; righteousness is not Christian faith. We want the\nvisible blessings of the church on our daily lives, even as Cecilia\nbrought into the circle of home the visible, angelic gifts of flowers;\nand we know that to those who seek them where Valerian and his brother\nsought the heavenly apparition--that is, through faith and\nprayer--these blessings, these gifts, these blossoms, these\nsafeguards, are never denied.\n\nAnd to pass from these aspirations after a more Christian ideal of\nhome to the impressions made on an eye-witness by the feast of St.\nCecilia in Rome, we will merely say that this feast had been eagerly\nlooked forward to, and had always held a special charm over the mind\nof the writer of these pages.\n\nOn this day, the 22d of November, Mass is said from dawn till noon in\nthe catacomb chapel, where the martyr was first buried. This chapel is\none of the largest and most interesting in the Catacomb of St.\nCallixtus. The distance from the Eternal City to this shrine is not\nlong, but the old Appian Way that leads from the one to the other is\ncrowded with memories and monuments, each a history in itself.\n\nThe most noticeable of these is very near the catacomb, and is none\nother than the mausoleum of Cecilia Metella, the mysterious and\noft-sung pile that Byron has made strangely familiar to us. One cannot\nhelp being struck by the familiarity of the two names, and the\nproximity of the two shrines, of the Cecilias of Rome. The proud\nmausoleum, stately as a palace, strong as a fortress, built by some\nostentatious patrician, or by some sorrowing husband, for the merely\nworldly end of perpetuating the memory of an illustrious house, or of\nthe domestic virtues of a spouse a little above the common run of\nlicentious Roman matrons, stands now deserted and unvisited, its real\nhistory lost and forgotten, and a fictitious one attached to it\nthrough the imaginative efforts of a foreign poet. The lonely\nsepulchre in an earthen wall, the hidden recess in an underground\nchapel--dug out by silent, persecuted men for the proscribed body of a\nso-called criminal--remains to this day the pilgrimage of thousands,\nthe well-remembered and well-loved spot where devout followers of the\nfaith Cecilia followed come to beg her intercession as they kneel\nbefore the same sacrament, and assist at the same sacrifice, whose\nblessings were Cecilia\u2019s only strength. Cecilia Metella, the rich\nRoman lady, is unknown save to antiquaries; Cecilia, the\nvirgin-martyr, is honored all over the world, by all races and all\nnations. The wealth of the first has rusted away and is heard of no\nmore, because its last emblem was a palatial tomb; the riches of the\nsecond have increased a hundred-fold, and have been sown broadcast\nover the earth, because their abiding symbol lies in a church built\nover her former dwelling; and the harvest her prayers have reaped is\ngathered year after year in the riches untold, of virgins crowned with\nmiraculous flowers, of wives laden with the conversions of those dear\nto them, of women of all ages, all ranks, all nations, bearing in         648\ntheir hands the charity born of Cecilia\u2019s death-bed generosity, and in\ntheir hearts the faith of her death-bed professions.\n\nAnd so, past the stately tomb worthy of Egypt\u2019s solemn magnificence,\nthe road leads to a small door in a wall, which opens on to a field. A\npath fringed with red and purple flowers, the last-born children of a\nsouthern autumn, winds through the field, to the head of a steep but\nwide flight of stairs, at the foot of which is the entrance to St.\nCallixtus\u2019 Catacomb. The pure air, just mist-veiled in the morning\ncoolness, shows the landscape around to its utmost advantage; the\nomnipresent dome of St. Peter\u2019s basilica clears the line of the blue\nhorizon; the wide purple plain is crossed here and there by\ndust-whitened roads and arched aqueducts, as by the gigantic bones of\na decayed and now powerless monster; the distant hills, darkened at\ntheir base by chestnut woods, and dotted with white villas, as with\nthe loosened beads of a string of pearls, throw bluer shadows on the\ndusky, olive-spotted expanse: and we pause, and wonder whether, after\nall, things looked so very unlike this on the dawning day when the\nChristians bore the happy Cecilia to her first resting-place. Their\nhearts surely must have felt as ours do now, full of joy and\nthanksgiving, and, above all, full of peace. There would have been a\nsilent throng, a quiet gradual gathering of the future martyrs around\nthe narrow grave of their blessed-forerunner; for in those days no one\nknew how soon he or she might be called from the altar to the stake,\nand summoned to carry the unconsumed sacrament within his bosom to the\ntribunal of an unjust and ignorant judge.\n\nThe avenues of the perplexing labyrinth of the catacomb are\nall guarded by the government on this day of St. Cecilia\u2019s, so that no\none may stray from the one chapel where service is going on. Close to\nthe entrance is the small recess where the saint was laid in her first\nsleep. It is low and reaches far back into the damp earth-wall; myrtle\nand bay-leaves are strewn over its floor, and flowers and little\noil-lamps are spread about like stars. As each person leaves the\nchapel, he takes away a leaf or flower as a holy remembrance. Two\naltars are erected, one close to the martyr\u2019s grave, just beneath a\nByzantine fresco head of our divine Lord, the other on the opposite\nside of the chapel. The space, small enough for a modern congregation,\nthough large for a catacomb chapel, is so crowded that it is difficult\nfor the priests to pass in and out from the altars to the temporary\nsacristy, and the worshippers almost lean upon them when they stand to\nsay the \u201cJudica me, Deus.\u201d No noise is heard, save the murmured words\nof the Mass and the tinkling of the elevation-bell. Foreigners are\nthere with fair-haired boys serving the Mass of some favorite friend\nand accompanying chaplain; Romans are there with their intense, if not\ndeep, southern devotion; rich and poor, prince and beggar, student and\npeasant, are alike crowding the virgin-martyr\u2019s shrine. A few hundred\nyears ago, this was the church\u2019s cradle, and patrician and slave came\nto be baptized together and wear for one day the white robes that\nto-morrow twilight would see red with blood on the deserted sand of\nthe gladiator\u2019s amphitheatre. The priest who said Mass in those days\nhardly knew, when he came to the consecration, whether the hand of the\npagan soldiery might not be upon him before the communion; the mother     649\nwho knelt in tears, half of natural sorrow, half of heavenly joy, and\nthought of the fair young boy she had but yesterday given back to God\non the scaffold, did not know whether tomorrow\u2019s dawn might not find\nher herself prostrate and headless on the same place of execution.\nPartings then were seldom for long, and, even when the Christians\nparted with our Lord on the hidden altars, they knew they would meet\nhim soon again at the right hand of his Father. Not unfrequently, the\nBlessed Sacrament was kept in a silver vessel made in the shape of a\ndove, and one cannot help thinking how sweet a union must have existed\nbetween this custom and the idea of the protection and the teaching\nthe Holy Spirit was to afford to his spouse, the church. \u201cWhen the\nSpirit of truth cometh,\u201d Jesus had said, \u201che shall teach you all\nthings.\u201d And so the Dove of heaven taught the church the hidden\nbeauties of the ineffable sacrament, and protected this greatest\ntreasure of the Bride in its integrity of doctrine and its continuity\nof love. May we not so interpret, lovingly and reverentially, the\nolden custom of the dove-shaped tabernacle?\n\nBeautiful as the day was, it was a sore trial to leave the darksome,\nsilent chapel, where generations of older and braver Christians than\nourselves had spent their triumphant vigils and been brought back to\nsleep their peaceful hero-slumbers--it was a trial, I say, to return\nto the carelessly beautiful earth, the unheeding theatre of such\nwondrous mysteries. To leave the catacombs in Cecilia\u2019s times was to\ngo forth to almost certain death; to leave prayer and solitude, the\ncatacombs of the heart in our day, is to encounter certain sorrow and\npossible sin. It is hard to leave God\u2019s temple and mingle with the\nchattering throng; it is hard to lift the curtain of silence and mix\nwith the wrangling world. Yet it is our duty. Few are privileged to be\nhermits, and those few not until the privilege is turned into a trial,\nand the apparent retreat is no other than a hard-won stronghold. In\nthe battle, we must fight, and fight manfully, in the foremost rank;\nit is only the generals and the chiefs among us that watch from afar,\nand feel, like wearied Moses, the weight of victory or defeat hanging\non the issue of their prayers. Our part seems the harder, but it is\nonly because our nature is so little that dissatisfaction with our\npresent lot is the very air we breathe. After all, if we could look\naround us, we should see many beautiful things; if we are bound in\nfetters of duty, they are golden fetters, with the word of God carved\nall over their sunlike sheen; if we are led in one way and forced to\nwear the harness of unalterable circumstances, the reins are broidered\nwith fair work that tells the story of how the angel led the ass of\nBalaam, and how palms were strewn on the path of Jesus; the way is\nemblazoned with rarest flowers and sweetest fruits, the heraldry of\ngrace; if we bear a yoke and a burden, they are but spices and\nointments, wine and oil, and milk and honey, all fair and gracious\nmerchandise from the great mart of heaven, to be borne over the world,\nas the clouds bear the rain, in fertilizing charity and fruit-bearing\nmeekness. So let us leave the dear catacomb, where even Music hushed\nher sighs, and come forth across the Roman Campagna, with the\nmist-veils rolled off it, and the noonday sun, with its reminiscences\nof summer, gilding its fringe of distant mountains, and its strange\nrifts of sudden, unsuspected valleys. Here and there, an aqueduct or a\nproud stone pyre, a mound of stones, each of which bears an imperial      650\ninscription, a rude shepherd\u2019s fence, or irregular stone wall, that is\nall you see. Not far from here, in a cornfield whose waves of brown\nand gold a few months ago kissed the foot of an ilex-crowned hillock,\nis the fountain of Egeria, a grotto, fern-clothed, with a broken\ngoddess of mouldering stone. The water and the \u201cmaiden-hair\u201d fern are\nthere still, as beautiful as when the king of Rome is said to have\nwandered here in search of wisdom; the sage himself and the\nproblematic nymph of tradition are dead and gone, forgotten by the\nowner of the corn-field, ignored by the peasant who drinks at the\nfountain, unknown to the brown, barefooted child who gathers the\nfeathery fern.\n\nOf what use is it to say any more? Facts are more cruel commentaries\non the past than any words.\n\nYet we have just seen children and peasants, women from northern\nlands, men from eastern climes, bearing away as a relic a leaf of bay\nor a starry flower from the once filled recess where Cecilia lay in\npeace-sealed slumber.\n\nWhere is the difference, and why?\n\nA little child can tell, but the philosopher will not listen.\n\nThe feast of St. Cecilia, though to the writer of these pages it ended\non the threshold of the catacomb, is not completed here.\n\nAt her church in the _Trastevere_, the church already mentioned,\ntakes place the ceremony of solemn vespers, in which the artists of\nRome assist and take part gratuitously, out of homage to the queen of\nmusic. The antiphon \u201cCantantibus Organis\u201d is magnificent in art, but\nunresponsive in devotion. The phantom of the unhappy _Renaissance_\nbreathes in these strains, religious only in so far as they are a\nfabric built on sacred words. The simple solemnity of the church\u2019s\nservice dwells not in them, and the touching silence of the catacomb\nrecalls the saint to our mind far more sweetly than these outbursts of\npaganized minstrelsy within the halls she once called her own. Still,\nif honor to God be meant by this concourse of the artist fraternity,\nlet us be simple of intention, and see in it, as God does, the\nfirst-fruits of what they have offered to the God of all.\n\nReader, if you ever pray before the early shrine of the virgin-martyr\nin St. Callixtus\u2019 chapel, remember the writer of these few words, and\nlet our prayers go up to God together, \u201cas a morning sacrifice\u201d and\n\u201cas incense in his sight.\u201d\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n                             FLEURANGE.                                   651\n\n             TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH OF MRS. CRAVEN,\n                   AUTHOR OF \u201cA SISTER\u2019s STORY.\u201d\n\n\n                            PART FIRST.\n\n                          THE OLD MANSION.\n\n\n                                 I.\n\n\n\u201cYoung, beautiful, poor, and alone in Paris, what will become of her?\u201d\n\nIt was the third time Dr. Leblanc had repeated these words in the\npresence of his sister, Mademoiselle Josephine, who remained so mute\nthat she might have been thought deaf, had not the irregular click of\nher knitting-needles, and two or three indistinct exclamations as she\npaused in her work, testified to a preoccupation quite equal to that\nof her brother. The latter at first manifested his by swiftly striding\nup and down the apartment in which they were, but now he resumed his\nusual place in the chimney-corner opposite his sister, opened and shut\nhis snuff-box noisily, taking a useless profusion of pinches, which he\nforgot to convey to their destination, and tapping the floor with his\nfoot in a manner that expressed great agitation or extreme perplexity.\n\nMademoiselle Josephine continued to knit without replying, and seemed\nno less absorbed than her brother. At length she said:\n\n\u201cAt least, if she were not, as you say, so young and so beautiful!\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd so poor and alone in the world, you should add. A sensible\nremark, indeed! It is evident if she were old, ugly, rich, and\nsurrounded by friends, her situation would be very different. I am\nindebted to you, Josephine, for the discovery.\u201d\n\n\u201cDo not be impatient, brother. I am only repeating what you have just\nsaid. To continue the subject: if she only had a different air--\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, go on!\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd another name--\u201d\n\n\u201cAnother name! Why so? What has her name to do with the matter?\u201d\n\n\u201cA name which was not ridiculous.\u201d\n\n\u201cRidiculous! The name of her father? Poor Gerard d\u2019Yves\u2019 name was very\nrespectable, and even noble, I believe. He committed a thousand\nextravagances and ruined himself. He then became an artist, and\ndisplayed talent enough to have repaired his fortunes had he been\nwise. Besides, he was of a good family, and his name--\u201d\n\n\u201cI am not alluding to his name, but to his daughter\u2019s.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell?\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, brother, do you think this young girl\u2019s name bears any\nresemblance to a Christian name?\u201d\n\n\u201cFleurange? I acknowledge it is perhaps an odd name. Her father had a\ntaste for odd things, and hearing the name of Fior Angela in Italy, he\ntranslated it.\u201d\n\n\u201cHer mother should have had more sense.\u201d\n\n\u201cHer poor mother died when she was born, so she had nothing to do with    652\nit.\u201d\n\n\u201cDid you not say her mother had a brother who was a professor in some\ncity in Germany?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, at Leipsic; but who knows where to find him now? Her whole\nfamily disapproved of her marriage, which was finally effected without\nher father\u2019s consent. Poor Margaret lived only a year, and Gerard, who\nremained a widower, declined all intercourse with his wife\u2019s\nrelatives. He remained many years in Italy, and placed his daughter,\nas soon as she was five years old, in some convent near Perugia. He\ntook her away only two months before he came here, already ill, to\nlinger and die three days ago in this poor child\u2019s arms, leaving her\nentirely alone in the world.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut was it not very injurious to his daughter\u2019s interests to withhold\nher thus from all intercourse with her maternal relatives?\u201d\n\n\u201cHe began to realize it himself, but only when it was too late. During\nhis illness, finding his case daily growing more serious, he made some\nefforts to ascertain what had become of Ludwig Dornthal, of whom we\nhave just spoken, who was Margaret\u2019s favorite brother, and never\nfaltered in his affection for her. But he could ascertain nothing\nrespecting him. Ludwig had married, and, long before, left Leipsic to\nsettle in some other part of Germany, he could not find out what, and\nthis fruitless effort was a source of pain, which was not the least he\nsuffered during his last hours. He reproached himself, and not without\nreason, for the frightful loneliness in which he was about to leave\nhis daughter. The poor, unhappy man bitterly expiated the imprudent\nand thoughtless act of alienating himself from those whose pardon he\nshould rather have implored, or at least accepted. But it was the\nconsequence of his disposition, which was affectionate, enthusiastic,\nand fascinating, I imagine, when he was young, but weak, violent, and\nthoughtless. He was born neither to be happy himself, nor to make\nothers happy, and his daughter would have been almost as great an\nobject of pity, had he lived, as she is now.\u201d\n\n\u201cPoor child!\u201d said Mademoiselle Josephine, raising her small black\neyes, with an expression almost celestial lighting up her pale and\nwrinkled face. After a moment\u2019s silence, she added: \u201cGod tempers the\nwind to the shorn lamb! You will see, brother, that some good luck\nwill befall her, or we shall have some fortunate inspiration.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, the sooner the better, for I have none. Your confidence truly\nexcites my admiration.\u201d\n\n\u201cI trust in God,\u201d simply replied Mademoiselle Josephine.\n\n\u201cParbleu! and I too,\u201d said the doctor. \u201cI truly believe in his\ngoodness; I hope in his mercy; but in this case--\u201d\n\n\u201cYou would prefer to have the affair in your own hands?\u201d\n\n\u201cCome, come, Josephine, let us stick to the point this time. It is\neight o\u2019clock, and we must positively go for that poor child. She is\nmore lonely than ever to-day, for the sister who nursed her father,\nand remained with her after his death, left this morning. She must\nnot, after so sad a day, pass this first night all alone up there.\u201d\n\n\u201cCertainly not,\u201d said the other.\n\nThe doctor continued: \u201cShe has not left that little room in the fourth\nstory for a fortnight, with the exception of this morning, when she\nfollowed her father to the grave, and since her return how do you\nimagine she has been occupied? Here, look at this.\u201d\n\nMademoiselle Josephine took the paper her brother held out, and           653\nglanced over it. It was a list of the poor artist\u2019s debts.\n\n\u201cThe whole amounts to five hundred francs, which are here. She asked\nme to settle the bills and procure the receipts.\u201d\n\n\u201cI see that, according to her calculation, one-fourth of this sum is\nintended for the physician who attended her father,\u201d said Mademoiselle\nJosephine slowly.\n\n\u201cWho, in such a case, will not accept it, of course.\u201d\n\n\u201cOf course not,\u201d said his sister. \u201cOut of this sum one hundred and\ntwenty-five francs will be returned to her, then?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, sister, and that will be the amount of her fortune.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhile we are talking, then, she has absolutely nothing?\u201d\n\n\u201cNothing at all.\u201d\n\nTheir conversation at this point was interrupted by a low knock at the\ndoor, and almost immediately the girl of whom they had been talking\nappeared before them. She stopped and leaned against the wall. The\ndoctor sprang toward her.\n\n\u201cPoor child!\u201d he exclaimed. \u201cWhile we were idly talking, she was faint\nfrom exhaustion and fatigue.\u201d\n\nShe had, in truth, fallen into a chair against the wall, and seemed\nlosing consciousness. Mademoiselle Josephine hastened to support her\nhead, and bathe her pale brow and colorless cheeks with cold water.\nEvery movement of the doctor\u2019s elderly sister had become prompt and\ndecided. At a sign from her brother, she disappeared an instant, but\nreturned almost immediately with a vial and a glass of water in her\nhand.\n\n\u201cThat is it,\u201d said the doctor. He let fall a few drops into the glass,\nwhich he then held to the young girl\u2019s lips. Two or three swallows\nseemed to revive her.\n\n\u201cExcuse me,\u201d she said, raising her head, and forcing herself to rise.\n\u201cExcuse me, both of you. I did not think myself so weak, and did not\nintend to give you so much trouble when I came to see you.\u201d\n\n\u201cDo not talk now, but drink the remainder of this.\u201d\n\nFleurange put the glass to her lips, but returned it to the doctor\nwithout tasting it. \u201cI cannot,\u201d she said, \u201cI feel dizzy. I do not know\nwhat ails me--perhaps it is the surprise I have just had. Here,\nmonsieur, read this. It was to show you this letter I came down.\u201d\n\nThe doctor took the letter, but, before reading it, led Fleurange to\nthe fire, while the active Josephine, divining her brother\u2019s wishes,\nplaced on the table a bowl of soup and some bread and wine.\n\nFleurange took Mademoiselle Josephine\u2019s hand between her own: \u201cThank\nyou,\u201d she said in a low tone. \u201cYes, I think it was that: I am\ngenerally strong, but--but--\u201d\n\n\u201cI dare say you have not eaten anything since yesterday?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo; and I am hungry.\u201d\n\nThe doctor briskly rubbed his spectacles, and abruptly opened his\nsnuffbox, while the young girl hastily took the slight repast, which\nbrought a lively and unusual color to her cheeks. Her face was\ngenerally very pale. Her large eyes, calm and mild, gray rather than\nblue, shaded by lashes black as her hair, gave her a peculiar and\nstriking appearance. But notwithstanding this peculiarity,\nnotwithstanding her paleness, the delicacy of her features, and the\npliancy of her form, which swayed like a reed at every movement, if\nobliged to characterize in two words the general impression produced\nby the appearance of Fleurange d\u2019Yves, those words would be:\nsimplicity and energy. Doctor Leblanc was doubtless right in thinking     654\nthat one so young, beautiful, and destitute needed protection, and yet\nit required only a glance to see that she, better than any else, could\nprotect herself.\n\nThe doctor still held in his hand the letter she had given him. It was\ndated at Frankfort.\n\n     \u201cMY DEAR NIECE: It was only yesterday, and by the most\n     unforeseen chance, we at last learned the state of your father\u2019s\n     health and where he lives. None of us have seen him since his\n     marriage with my poor sister Margaret twenty years ago. You know\n     there was at that time a profound hatred against France\n     throughout our country, and my father would never consent to\n     receive a Frenchman as his son-in-law. Then my poor sister (God\n     forgive her!) left the paternal roof to marry the man of her\n     choice. My father was exceedingly grieved, very angry, and at\n     first implacable, but before his death he forgave her. She was\n     past knowing it. From that time we lost all trace of your father.\n     We only learned he had left Pisa with his child, and, for a long\n     time, had given up all hope of ever seeing him again, or knowing\n     my poor sister\u2019s daughter, when yesterday a stranger, passing\n     through this city, accidentally showed me a picture he had just\n     purchased at Paris--the work, he said, of a dying artist. This\n     painting represented Cordelia kneeling beside her father, and the\n     canvas bore the name of Gerard d\u2019Yves. The painter\u2019s address was\n     given us by the owner of the picture, and I hasten to profit by\n     it to tell you, my dear child, that your mother\u2019s relatives have\n     not forgotten the tie that binds them to you. If you ever need a\n     shelter, you can find one beneath our roof. My wife and children\n     already regard poor Margaret\u2019s daughter with affection. The latter\n     have thought of her from infancy as an absent sister whose return\n     they awaited. If God restores your father\u2019s health, bring him\n     among us. If otherwise ordered, come yourself, my dear child. The\n     stranger who put us on your track told us the artist\u2019s daughter\n     was the original of his Cordelia. If the resemblance is correct,\n     it does not diminish our desire to see you. Come soon, then, my\n     dear niece. At all events, answer this letter promptly, and be\n     assured of the affectionate regard of your uncle,\n                                              \u201cLUDWIG DORNTHAL.\u201d\n\n\u201cJosephine! Josephine!\u201d exclaimed the doctor. \u201cHere, read this: but,\nfirst, embrace me. Yes, you were right. Your trust was better than my\nwisdom! Yes, yes, God tempers the wind to the shorn lamb. Poor child,\nembrace me also.\u201d\n\nFleurange rose: \u201cOh! very willingly,\u201d said she as she threw herself\nsobbing into the doctor\u2019s arms. Fatigue, grief, and the emotion caused\nby the unforeseen and unhoped-for offer of a refuge at the very moment\nof extreme need, all combined to agitate her mind, excite her nerves,\nand exhaust her strength. Her heart swelled with the emotion she could\nnot repress, and tears unrestrained came to her eyes, rolled down her\ncheeks, and fell like rain on her clasped and icy hands, while a\nconvulsive movement agitated her breast, and her trembling lips gave\nutterance to a feeble cry.\n\nThe doctor allowed her to weep a long time in silence, not uttering a\nword to increase her agitation, and yet saying nothing to repress it.\nAt length the paroxysm subsided, and Fleurange rose quite confused.\n\n\u201cExcuse me once more,\u201d said she; \u201cI am distressing you, instead of\nshowing my gratitude as I ought. I could not restrain myself, but I\nthink I can safely promise it will not happen again. I seldom give way    655\nto tears.\u201d\n\nShe uttered these words in a firm tone, drying her tears, and throwing\nback her hair with her two hands as if to cool her brow, then she\nrose.\n\n\u201cWhere are you going, pray?\u201d asked Mademoiselle Josephine in an abrupt\ntone of authority.\n\n\u201cWhy,\u201d stammered Fleurange, \u201cI am going up-stairs. I--\u201d\n\n\u201cPerhaps you are thinking to spend the night all alone in the cabinet\nnext the chamber--the chamber--\u201d She stopped. Fleurange turned pale,\nand her lips trembled as she replied:\n\n\u201cWhat can I do? It is sad, it is painful, I know well; but it must be\ndone. Besides, I am not afraid: I feel I am under your roof.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, for the present you shall also be under the protection of our\nlock and key,\u201d said the kind Josephine: and, taking Fleurange by the\narm, she led her into a little chamber next her own, where a small bed\nsurrounded by white curtains was in readiness for the young girl. This\nlittle chamber, with its walls covered with blue paper, and lit up\nwith a good fire, had a most cheering aspect.\n\n\u201cHere, child, is your chamber and your bed,\u201d said she. \u201cCome, come, no\nthanks, and, above all, no tears! Go to bed at once without giving\nyourself the time to think, still less to say a word. You think you\nare not going to sleep, but you are mistaken. On your knees? Well, I\nconsent to that, but let it be a short prayer. That is right. Now stop\ntill I gather up your thick hair. Is your head easy on that pillow?\nWell, I am glad. May God, and all good angels, watch over you! Allow\nme to kiss your forehead. Good-night!\u201d\n\nMademoiselle Josephine lowered the curtains of the bed, and softly\nleft the chamber, while the poor orphan, in fact, lost all remembrance\nof the sorrows and joys of the day in a profound and beneficent sleep.\n\nThe chamber to which Mademoiselle Josephine had taken Fleurange\nrightfully belonged to the doctor\u2019s niece, now at school in one of the\nconvents at Paris, but which she occupied during her vacation.\nHowever, it was far from being vacant the remainder of the year.\nMademoiselle Leblanc was one of those persons who are devoted to the\nsearching out of the unfortunate, and the alleviation of their woes.\nIn such cases, he who seeks finds, and that without difficulty,\nconsequently a week seldom passed without offering a good reason for\nopening the blue chamber for a few days\u2019 shelter to some poor girl out\nof work and destitute of a home, or to a poor abandoned child, or some\none recovering from illness but too feeble to resume work. The doctor\nheartily approved of this. He would gladly have added to his dwelling\na veritable _succursale_ for the accommodation of his poor\npatients, and if he was not yet rich enough for that, though he reaped\nthe benefit of his skill and celebrity, it was partly because he gave\naway with one hand what he received in the other, and that with a\ngenerosity not always in conformity with prudence. When there was a\nquestion of benevolence between the brother and sister, one was not\nmore disposed than the other to count the cost. They had invented a\nproverb, worthy of the Gospel, which they made use of in reply to the\nremonstrances of their friends: \u201cHe who gives alms, grows rich,\u201d they\nsaid; and they continued to enrich themselves in this way by giving\nthemselves up, both of them, to a noble excess of charity. Fortune, in\nfact, had not been unfavorable to them, and thus far had remained         656\nunfulfilled the sinister prophecies of those who take as a _devise_\nquite a different proverb, respecting charity, too well known and too\noften acted upon in the world. Doctor Leblanc and his sister knew\nnothing, it is true, of the luxury of elegant quarters and fine\nequipages. They still lived in a street of the Latin quarter where\nthey were born; an old servant was the sole assistant of the cook; and\nMademoiselle Josephine continued to preserve order and neatness around\nher with her own hands. But at all times they were magnificent in\ntheir own way; and the artists they encouraged, the scholars\nbefriended, and the sick gratuitously attended and generously aided,\nadded to the renown of the distinguished physician and gave to his\nname a reputation he did not seek. Simple and learned, healing the\nbody and respecting the soul, he loved his profession as a mission\nfrom heaven, and practised it as a sacred ministry with respect and\nwith love.\n\n                                 II.\n\nWhen Fleurange opened her eyes on the following morning, it was late,\nfor it was broad daylight and in the month of December. She must have\nslept very profoundly, for she had not heard any one kindle the fire\nalready blazing in the chimney. Her slumbers must have been such as in\nyouth succeed great fatigue or prolonged efforts to endure anxiety and\ngrief in silence. The fit of weeping the evening before and the long\nrepose of the night had brought double refreshment to the exhausted\nstrength of the young girl, and her first sensation was one of\ndelicious comfort.\n\nBut her remembrances soon became more distinct, and the anguish of the\nfirst awakening after a great misfortune made her heart sink within\nher. She had, it is true, known her father but little. The convent\nwhere she had been reared was not even in the town where he dwelt, and\nshe saw him but seldom during her childhood. But the days when he\nappeared at the convent were to both great festivals. It was difficult\nto understand how a father so glad to see his child could voluntarily\nhave allowed her to grow up away from him. But the time of reunion\ncame at last, and for several weeks they rambled around Italy\ntogether. In unveiling all its wonders to a mind naturally capable of\nappreciating them, the artist felt all the enthusiasm of his youth\nrevive. But it was a flame only rekindled to be extinguished. Soon\ncame symptoms of illness, the sad return to Paris, the fluctuations of\ndisease, which enfeeble the mind as well as the body, and separated\nthe child from her father while he was yet alive, and she night and\nday at his bedside. His look that gave back no answering glance, the\nwords she murmured in his ear without making him understand, convinced\nher of her loss before the separation by death which soon followed.\n\n\u201cO father! father scarcely known and so soon lost!\u201d Such was\nFleurange\u2019s cry, and perhaps an involuntary reproach mingled with her\naccents of grief. She did not suspect it was a sublime and paternal\ninstinct that had influenced the poor artist in separating from his\nchild. He wished her to be self-reliant; he wished her to be pious and\npure; he wished her rare mental gifts only to be developed when order,\nan immutable and divine order, was established in her soul; finally,      657\nhe desired her to be all that he himself lacked, and God blessed this\ndesire.\n\nIn a beautiful spot near Perugia, he found at the head of a charity\nschool one of those women whom the world itself would honor and\nvenerate if it comprehended them. By the _world_, I mean the mass of\nlight and scoffing people who are hostile to every sentiment in which\nthey have no share, and, above all others, to religious sentiments.\nYet this world is, on the whole, suspicious rather than unjust, and\nincredulous than false: if it sees the semblance of evil, it\nimmediately supposes it real; if it sees the appearance of goodness,\nit at once imagines this appearance deceitful; but when virtue is\nunquestionably manifest, irrecusable in its simplicity and truth, and\nsucceeds in being regarded in a true light, the world--even the world\nof which we have been speaking--generally bows down before it. The\nthing is rare, it is true, more so than it should be, because the most\nperfect natures aim not at displaying themselves, but at concealment;\nand the world to which I refer seeks not to discover, but to deny,\ntheir existence.\n\nMadre Maddalena was one of these great hidden souls. No one ever spoke\nof her, or of her little monastery, intended for the education of poor\nchildren, but where a limited number of girls of a more elevated class\nwere also admitted. Like so many other monasteries in Italy, this one\nwas in a poetic and charming situation, but not one of those visible\nafar off on the lofty summits that command views which ravish the eye\nand transport the soul--views that kindle a desire in the most\nindifferent heart to keel before them, and that have inspired\nChristians to perpetuate prayer amid them in permanent sanctuaries.\n\nThe Convent of Santa Maria al Prato was, on the contrary, in a deep\nvalley, and surrounded by a landscape like those in which Perugino and\nRaphael placed their divine creations or their sacred representations.\nAfar off were mountains whose outlines were clearly defined on the\nhorizon in soft and harmonious colors; a stream wound through olive\ngroves, now and then encircling rustic dwellings--the evident\nhandiwork of a people with an instinctive taste for the arts; the\nsombre verdure of a knot of pines or cypresses contrasted here and\nthere with the azure of the morning sky or the purple tints of\nevening: such were the principal features of the landscape. The beauty\nof such a scene subdues and reposes, as that of sublime summits\ntransports and exalts, and seems designed for meditation and labor, as\nthe other for contemplation and ecstasy.\n\nIt was to this retreat Fleurange\u2019s father was providentially\nled--perhaps guided by the protective inspiration we love to attribute\nto mothers who are fond of their children. It was in the hands of\nMadre Maddalena that he left his daughter as soon as she was five\nyears old, and, until the day she was eighteen, he only saw her twice\na year. But from year to year he felt more sure of having realized the\naim he had proposed respecting her. Fleurange had, nevertheless, no\nproof to give him of her progress under the form of prizes obtained or\ncrowns conferred. The solemn occasions when such trophies are\ndistributed were unknown at Santa Maria al Prato, as well as the\nexaminations for which the memory is burdened for a day with facts\nthat are often remembered no longer. In fact, they did not aim at\ngiving her varied instruction, but they taught her how to learn, and      658\ngave her a taste for study, work, and silence.\n\nShe was naturally sincere and courageous; she also became skilful and\nactive. Madre Maddalena seemed to have foreseen that this young\nperson, so sheltered in her early years, would one day be unusually\nexposed to the rough combat of life. She probably did not foresee that\nFleurange would soon be left alone; but what she had read of her\nfather\u2019s nature, what she knew of his history, made her comprehend\nthat prudence and a certain premature experience would serve as a\nsafeguard to his daughter. What would have been true had her father\nlived, was no less so now his death left her entirely to herself.\n\nFleurange resisted the temptation of remaining in bed absorbed in sad\nthoughts. She hastily rose, and was quite ready when Mademoiselle\nJosephine entered her chamber for the third time. A smile enlivened\nthe features of the elderly maiden when she saw the effect of a good\nnight\u2019s rest on the countenance of her _prot\u00e9g\u00e9e_. The latter,\naffected and grateful, and retaining the Italian habits of her\nchildhood, bent to kiss the hand of her benefactress.\n\n\u201cDo not kiss my old hand,\u201d said Mademoiselle Josephine, \u201cbut my cheek,\nif you like; now, let us not keep my brother waiting. It is nine\no\u2019clock, our breakfast-hour which never varies.\u201d\n\nFleurange followed her hostess to the breakfast-room, which was next\nthe parlor. The furniture of these two rooms had not been renewed for\nmore than fifty years, but nothing seemed dilapidated, thanks to the\nexquisite neatness that everywhere reigned.\n\nThe doctor was already seated at the table. His sister took her place\nopposite, giving Fleurange a seat between them.\n\n\u201cYou have quite recovered,\u201d said the doctor, extending his hand to the\nyoung girl. \u201cI am very glad to see it; but, for fear of relapse, you\nmust remain under my eye for some days to come. Everything has been\narranged, and from this time till your departure you will return no\nmore to the fourth story.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat can I say, monsieur? You are both so kind, and I love you so\nmuch that I accept alms from your hands without shame and almost\nwithout pain.\u201d\n\n\u201cI forbid you making use of so shocking a word,\u201d said Mademoiselle\nJosephine.\n\n\u201cYet it is really alms,\u201d said Fleurange in a sad but firm tone, \u201cfor I\nhave nothing of my own, and if in want of a piece of bread to-day, I\nshould have to extend the hand of a beggar.\u201d\n\n\u201cCome, come! you are not reduced to that yet, thank God! But let us\ndrop this, and speak of something more important. You must answer your\nuncle\u2019s letter without delay.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, indeed,\u201d said Fleurange. And after a short silence, she added:\n\u201cI am going to ask him to be kind enough to receive me for a month.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut from his letter, he seems disposed to offer you a much more\nextended hospitality than that.\u201d\n\n\u201cPerhaps so, but I am only willing to accept it till I have found the\nmeans of living without being a burden on him.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat is your intention, then?\u201d\n\n\u201cI do not know,\u201d said Fleurange; \u201cbut there are many means of gaining\na, livelihood, are there not? Well, I shall endeavor to find one not\nbeyond my strength.\u201d\n\nThe doctor looked at her, and then said: \u201cThere are certainly many\nthings not beyond your strength, but yet unsuitable for you.\u201d             659\n\n\u201cWhy?\u201d asked Fleurange.\n\n\u201cThey would be unsuitable for one of your age and condition.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy so?\u201d repeated she.\n\n\u201cI will explain myself after you tell me what you think of doing.\u201d\n\n\u201cCome!\u201d said Mademoiselle Josephine impatiently. \u201cThere is no need of\nso much circumlocution in telling her that, when one is young and\npretty, caution is needful. If the child does not know that, the\nsooner she is warned, the better it will be for her.\u201d\n\n\u201cYoung and pretty,\u201d repeated Fleurange quietly without the slightest\nembarrassment. \u201cYes, I know that will be a great obstacle to me in my\nposition. It would be much better to be homely and ten years older. I\nhad already thought of that. It is very unfortunate; but what can be\ndone?\u201d\n\nThe doctor smiled. He had never heard any woman admit her own beauty\nwith so little vanity. Fleurange\u2019s simplicity, the childlike candor of\nher large eyes, the expression of which was yet grave and thoughtful,\nstruck him, and he felt an increase of the interest which up to this\nmoment had been excited by the young girl\u2019s destitute condition,\nrather than herself. He resumed, still smiling:\n\n\u201cAs to this misfortune, you must resign yourself to it, at least for\ntwenty years to come.\u201d But seeing that Fleurange did not smile in\nreturn, but, on the contrary, became more and more thoughtful, he\ncontinued: \u201cBesides, if you ever come to that, we will find a means\nfor surmounting the difficulty.\u201d\n\nFleurange\u2019s face expanded. \u201cOh! thank you, monsieur; if you could\nrealize how much courage I have. And then,\u201d she added, \u201cI assure you\nthere are a great many things I know how to do.\u201d\n\n\u201cFor instance?\u201d said the doctor.\n\n\u201cFirst, the instruction of children, to which I think myself adapted.\nI love them, and they are generally fond of me also, and readily obey\nme.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat else?\u201d\n\n\u201cI know Italian and German (for I have made it a special point to\nunderstand my mother\u2019s native language thoroughly). My father thought\nme also a good reader, and preferred my voice and accent to those of\nany of the numerous readers and speakers he had heard. His fondness\nperhaps blinded him to my defects; yet he might have been right, and I\ncould try.\u201d\n\n\u201cHem!\u201d said the doctor. \u201cThere is much to be said for and against that\ntalent.\u201d\n\n\u201cFinally, monsieur, I can do all kinds of work. I know how to sew\nwell--to wash, iron, and sweep. I could even cook a little.\u201d\n\nThe doctor again regarded the noble countenance of the young girl\nwhile she thus complacently enumerated the humble and laborious\nemployments she thought herself capable of. She was evidently sincere.\nHer ability and willingness to do all she said could not be doubted.\nHe was affected, and remained silent.\n\nBut Mademoiselle Josephine exclaimed with enthusiasm: \u201cThat is what I\ncall an education! And who, my dear child, taught you so many\nreasonable and useful things?\u201d\n\nTears of emotion filled Fleurange\u2019s eyes. \u201cIt was my dear Madre\nMaddalena,\u201d she replied.\n\nThis answer elicited fresh inquiries, to which Fleurange replied by\nminutely relating the way in which her childhood had passed. The\ndoctor\u2019s satisfaction increased with every word of her account, which,\nnevertheless, made a breach in two of his prejudices.                     660\n\nWithout any antipathy to pretty faces, they inspired him with a kind\nof mistrust, or at least of solicitude, which his long experience had\ndoubtless very often warranted. But in regarding this young girl, so\nself-reliant and so modest, so courageous and so delicate, and who\nseemed ready to struggle so bravely against the difficulties of life,\nhow could he be angry with her for being beautiful, and how help\noverlooking it in one sense?\n\nThe doctor had also a singular and, considering his belief as a whole,\nan inconsistent prejudice against convents. He seemed to have retained\nthis point of agreement with those whom he habitually opposed on every\nother subject. And here was an education which accorded not only with\nall his ideas, but with all his whims--a conventual education. He\nwould be obliged to somewhat modify his opinions on this subject, as\nwell as on some others, and he resigned himself to it with a good\ngrace.\n\nThey finally resumed the subject of the letter to Frankfort. The\ndoctor and his sister already began to look forward with sorrow to the\ndeparture of their young _prot\u00e9g\u00e9e_, but they felt it was for her\ninterest not to delay joining the relatives who had invited her at so\nopportune a moment. By their advice, Fleurange immediately began her\nletter. Short and to the point, it was soon completed, and she gave it\nto Mademoiselle Josephine. The latter began to read it with an air of\nsatisfaction, but when she came to the signature, a cloud suddenly\nappeared on her face.\n\n\u201cWhat is it?\u201d said Fleurange. \u201cI have made some mistake or blunder?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, you have not: the letter is very well, it could not be better,\nbut, but--\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat, then? Tell me frankly, I beg of you.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, it is--indeed, I dare not tell you.\u201d\n\n\u201cPray tell me,\u201d said Fleurange, \u201cwhat has displeased you? There is\nnothing in the letter I am not willing to correct according to your\nadvice.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is--but you cannot change that.\u201d\n\nBut what is it, then, dear mademoiselle? You really frighten me,\u201d\ninsisted Fleurange with a disturbed air.\n\n\u201cYou cannot change your baptismal name,\u201d said the other, at length.\n\n\u201cMy baptismal name?\u201d exclaimed Fleurange with surprise. \u201cDoes my name\ndisplease you to such a degree? I am sorry, for Madre Maddalena liked\nit so much! She said it signified _the flower of the angels_--the\nfairest of all the angels--the angel Gabriel, whom she considered my\npatron. And she called me Gabrielle as often as Fleurange.\u201d\n\n\u201cGabrielle!\u201d cried Mademoiselle Josephine eagerly. \u201cGabrielle! Ah!\nthat is a name everybody can understand. So that is the meaning of\nFleurange, according to your Madre Maddalena? Then I beseech, I\nconjure you, to assume that name and give up the other!\u201d\n\nThe doctor had for some minutes been occupied in reperusing Professor\nDornthal\u2019s letter, which he kept the evening before; he now raised his\neyes, and attended to the conversation. While Fleurange was still\nhesitating what reply to make to Mademoiselle Josephine\u2019s singular\nrequest, he said:\n\n\u201cI do not understand my sister\u2019s persistency on this point. As to my\nown opinion, it is opposed to hers. But it may be that the simpler of\nthe two names will be more in conformity with the tastes of the good      661\nGerman family that awaits you, and perhaps Gabrielle would have a\nbetter reception than Fleurange. Besides,\u201d he continued, smiling,\n\u201cyour young cousins beyond the Rhine would doubtless pronounce the\nname in a way to diminish its charm and deprive it of all meaning\naccording to the pious and poetical interpretation you have just given\nit.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat might be,\u201d said Fleurange, smiling in return. \u201cAnyhow, I will do\nas you advise respecting it.\u201d\n\n\u201cWe will take it into consideration,\u201d said the doctor. Then, glancing\nonce more over the professor\u2019s letter, he continued: \u201cDo you know the\nname of the stranger who, by buying the last picture your father\npainted, has unwittingly rendered you so great a service?\u201d\n\n\u201cI do not. That picture was sold with the remainder when, at the\nbeginning of his fatal relapse, my father saw his finances\ndiminishing, and lost the hope of ever repairing them. My poor\nfather!\u201d she continued with a trembling voice, \u201che was very ill the\nday he made me sit in order to finish that picture--\u201d Fleurange\nsuddenly stopped and blushed. The doctor\u2019s look seemed to demand an\nexplanation, and she continued artlessly, but not without confusion:\n\u201cThe owner of the picture is perhaps the stranger who visited the\nstudio that day. At least, I acknowledge the idea has repeatedly\noccurred to me.\u201d\n\n\u201cFor what reason?\u201d\n\n\u201cBecause he was so delighted with Cordelia, and begged permission to\nsee it after its completion. But my father, from that day, was obliged\nto give up the use of the brush, and the picture was sold as he left\nit, with the others.\u201d\n\n\u201cWas this amateur a German?\u201d\n\n\u201cI do not know. He spoke French very well, but with a slight accent, I\nknow not what.\u201d\n\n\u201cWas he some great lord?\u201d\n\n\u201cI do not know--I have never seen a great lord.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut what kind of an air had this visitor--God bless him!\u201d interrupted\nMademoiselle Josephine.\n\n\u201cA lofty and noble air, a remarkable physiognomy, and a grave and\nsonorous voice,\u201d replied Fleurange. \u201cBut, in spite of the gratitude I\nperhaps owe him, the remembrance of his visit always troubles and\ndepresses me.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy so?\u201d said Josephine.\n\n\u201cBecause it was the cause of the last and fatal crisis of my father\u2019s\nmalady, who at that time even could not bear the slightest agitation.\nI do not know the words the stranger murmured as he glanced at me, but\nthey greatly excited my father, who requested me in a tremulous voice\nto leave the studio. As a general thing, he never allowed me to enter\nit at the hour for visitors. The evening of that day he spoke to me in\nan agitated manner of the lone condition in which I should soon be\nleft, and gave me some incoherent counsels, which were his last words.\nHe never recovered his full mind after that.\u201d\n\n\u201cPoor man!\u201d said the doctor; but he did not pursue the subject that\nled to this account. Fleurange\u2019s fleeting blush disappeared, and she\nwas again pale and calm as before, her pen in hand ready to correct\nher letter according to the doctor\u2019s advice. After a final\ndeliberation between the young girl and her elderly friends, it was\ndecided that the letter should be sent after it was signed\n_Gabrielle d\u2019Yves_.\n\n\n                                III.                                      662\n\nThe day Margaret married Gerard d\u2019Yves, the aged Sigismund Dornthal\nblotted out his daughter\u2019s name from his will, and gave orders that it\nshould never be uttered in his presence. Notwithstanding this,\nsoftened by illness, and urged by his second son Ludwig, Margaret\u2019s\nfavorite brother, he soon consented to send her his forgiveness and\nblessing, but when they reached Pisa poor Margaret had just expired!\nIn the fury of his despair, which increased the impetuosity and\nthoughtlessness of his character, Gerard tore up the letter containing\nthe long-delayed pardon, and only replied in these two words: \u201cToo\nlate!\u201d\n\nIt was thus the aged Dornthal was informed of his daughter\u2019s death. He\nhimself died shortly after, ignorant of the existence of the child to\nwhom she had given birth. His property was divided between his two\nsons, but Ludwig, devoted to study, and already in possession of a\nprofessor\u2019s chair at Leipsic, entirely abandoned to his elder brother\nthe administration of their common fortune, and Heinrich Dornthal\nbecame the sole head of the commercial and banking houses founded by\nSigismund. He thenceforth made use of his brother\u2019s capital as well as\nhis own, paying him regularly his income, without any interference in\nhis business on Ludwig\u2019s part. The latter was at the same time\npursuing so brilliant a career as to attract the attention of all the\nlearned men of Germany to his labors. One of these, a resident of\nFrankfort, invited him to pass at his house the annual vacations of\nthe numerous students who attended his lectures. The result of these\nvisits was that this professor\u2019s daughter became Ludwig Dornthal\u2019s\nwife, and, in the course of time, the mother of his five children.\nThe professor, when he married, resigned his position at Leipsic to\nsettle in his wife\u2019s native place. There, free from a professor\u2019s\nduties, he had leisure to write books that constantly added to his\nreputation and increased his income, which the flourishing business of\nthe commercial house alone made sufficient.\n\nSuch was, in a few words, the condition of the new home that awaited\nFleurange. A second letter came promptly in reply to hers. Her uncle\nexpressed the liveliest joy at having found her, and invited her very\nparticularly to arrive at Frankfort in time for Christmas, so dear to\nthe Germans as the time of family reunions. To do this she would have\nto leave Paris, at the very latest, on the twenty-first of December,\nfor at that time it took three days and nights for the journey to\nFrankfort. The doctor and his sister, though sorry to part with their\nyoung _prot\u00e9g\u00e9e_, hastened the preparations for her departure. They\nwere touched by the cordial tone of this unknown uncle\u2019s letters, and\npredicted a happy life for her in his family, which they did not wish\nto defer. But every day added to their attachment to Fleurange and to\nher tender gratitude to them.\n\n\u201cIf this continued a week longer,\u201d said the doctor, \u201cI could not part\nwith that child.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen she must start soon,\u201d replied Mademoiselle Josephine; \u201cit is for\nher good, and we should do wrong to keep her with us.\u201d\n\nFleurange said nothing, but her eyes turned sadly from one of her old\nfriends to the other. At length came the last day she was to pass with\nthem. She made an effort to repress her tears, that she might not\ndistress them, and quietly put up her modest packages, actively aided     663\nby the doctor and his sister.\n\n\u201cAn English proverb which I think very reasonable,\u201d said the doctor,\n\u201cplaces the hospitality which speeds the parting guest on a level with\nthat which welcomes his coming: it is that which I am now showing you,\nmy dear Fleurange.\u201d\n\nFleurange had just hastily finished the repast always so sad before a\njourney. The doctor perceived her courage failing. He was himself\ngreatly affected by her pale and youthful countenance, and in thinking\nof the long and lonely journey she was about to undertake, at the end\nof which she would be received by people, perhaps kind, but wholly\nunknown. Nevertheless, he resumed with an encouraging voice:\n\n\u201cCome, come, child, everything looks favorable yonder; show your\ncourage, and do not allow yourself to be cast down.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are right,\u201d said Fleurange, rising. \u201cI feel I have reason to\nbless God, and I only desire to be grateful. Be sure, at all events,\nthat I shall be courageous.\u201d\n\nIt was eight o\u2019clock in the evening: the fiacre was waiting at the\ndoor to take her to the diligence. She went out, accompanied by the\ndoctor and his sister, who entered the carriage with her. The night\nwas dark, and the snow falling in great flakes, which the young girl,\nreared beneath the sky of Italy, now saw for the first time in her\nlife. The spectacle excited curiosity mingled with fear. The new and\nthe unknown seemed to surround her on every side, and these two\nthings, generally so attractive to those of her age, bore now an\naspect more calculated to depress her young heart than to expand it.\nShe involuntarily shivered, and drew around her slender form the thick\ncloak that felt too thin to protect her from the severity of the\nweather, to which she was so unaccustomed. They all remained silent\nfor some moments. Fleurange pressed Mademoiselle Josephine\u2019s hand, and\ncarried it from time to time to her lips, in spite of the efforts of\nthe latter to prevent it.\n\nMademoiselle Josephine, on her side, with a faltering voice renewed a\nmultitude of counsels, which had already been repeated a thousand\ntimes--among others, to write to them often and regularly. Then she\nslipped on her arm a small basket which her provident kindness had\nfilled with everything that could be useful to her on the way, as well\nas more than one souvenir which, when far distant, would recall her\nold friends.\n\nThey arrived too quickly at their destination. \u201cI have bespoken a\nplace for you in the coup\u00e9,\u201d said the doctor, getting out of the\ncarriage. \u201cYou will be in company with one of my patients, still very\nfeeble, but who will absolutely go to Germany to rejoin her husband.\nShe has two children with her, and they will be your only travelling\ncompanions.\u201d\n\n\u201cThank you,\u201d said Fleurange. \u201cThe prayers of the orphan are said to\ndraw down blessings: may you both experience the effect of mine!\u201d She\ncould not utter another word. She threw her arms for the last time\naround Mademoiselle Josephine\u2019s neck, and the next instant, leaning on\nthe doctor\u2019s arm, she was crossing with some difficulty the littered\ncourt at the end of which they found the diligence. The snow had\ndelayed them on the way, and now rendered every step difficult. The\nother passengers had taken their places, and they were only waiting\nfor Fleurange. The horses were harnessed, and to the noise of their\nstamping the driver added his impatient exclamations. \u201cCome, come! We     664\nare off!\u201d he repeated in a rough voice. Fleurange, hurried, pushed\nabout, stunned, and frightened, had only time to press the doctor\u2019s\nhand once more and spring into the coup\u00e9. The door was instantly shut.\nA fearful clashing of irons, mingled with cries, blows of the whip,\nand vociferations, above which could be heard: \u201cAdieu! \u00e0 revoir! \u00e0\nbient\u00f4t!\u201d with other exclamations much less harmonious, and the heavy\ndiligence was in motion. Fleurange, now free from the necessity of any\nrestraint, allowed herself the solace of giving vent to her feelings\nand letting her tears flow freely and abundantly.\n\nShe continued to weep for a long time without the least attempt at\nrepressing her emotion. Why should she? She was alone, entirely alone\nnow. She had never been so to such a degree before. All the events of\nthe past faded away in the distance, and the future offered nothing to\nreplace them. She was separated from all whom she had loved from her\ninfancy, either by death or indefinite absence. Would it be so always?\nWas that to be her lot on earth? Would she never be permitted to love\nwith assurance, trust, and a sense of repose? Was she to be always\nthus torn from places and persons at the very moment her heart began\nto cling to them?--her heart, so tender and ardent, which she had so\noften felt beating with tenderness and joy, with admiration and\nenthusiasm? And while her eyes peered out through the darkness of\nnight at objects that seemed in the obscurity like pale phantoms, her\nimagination set before her, as in a magic mirror, all the different\nscenes of her past life: the beautiful cloister of Santa Maria al\nPrato, with the terrace at the top, where the eye could wander so far,\nand the sweet and noble features of Madre Maddalena; then came the\nvaried remembrances connected with her father; first, the rapid vision\nof Italy in all its splendor, then the terrible and dismal days at\nParis, and finally, at the darkest hour of all; the beneficent forms\nof her old friends, whom she never wished to leave, but whom she had\njust bidden farewell--perhaps farewell for ever!\n\nIt was impossible for Fleurange, at this moment, to control her sad\nthoughts. But, now and then, her reason recalled those who awaited\nher, the welcome she had a right to expect, and the goodness of Divine\nProvidence in opening such a refuge; but in vain--consolation seemed\nunable to find an entrance into her soul, and, in spite of her nature,\ndespondency obtained the mastery.\n\n\u201cIf they are kind, and I love them,\u201d she said to herself bitterly, \u201cI\nshall soon have to leave them. If, on the contrary, they --\u201d Here her\nimagination had free course and depicted the future in the darkest\ncolors. But this new reverie had not the clearness of the first, and\nbefore long her anticipations began to mingle in vague confusion with\nher remembrances. Little by little, fatigue, the motion of the\nvehicle, and the influence of night lulled the young girl asleep, and\ntransformed into uneasy and indistinct dreams all the thoughts that\nhad successively assailed her.\n\nFifteen minutes after, she was suddenly awakened. Something quite\nheavy had fallen against her shoulder and thence into her lap. She sat\nup, and, groping in the obscurity, her hand came in contact with the\nlong silky hair of a child. From the first, she had rather supposed\nthan seen a pale, sick young woman in the opposite corner of the\ncoup\u00e9, with her arm thrown around a child beside her, against whom\nslept another still smaller. It was the latter who had just suddenly      665\nchanged his position. Fleurange began to comprehend the case, and bent\ndown to raise him softly to a more comfortable seat in her lap. Then\nshe drew his little sleepy head against her, and kissed the sweet face\nnow near her own. This trifling incident had the sudden and unforeseen\neffect of putting to flight all the phantoms her imagination had been\nconjuring up to increase her sorrows. She recalled her interior\nmurmuring with remorse.\n\n\u201cO my God!\u201d she cried, pressing the child in her arms, \u201cif I love this\npoor little one, whose features I have not yet seen, if I am ready to\nwatch the night long over his slumbers, what wilt not thou, who art\n_my Father_, do for thy child?\u201d She raised her eyes a moment in prayer,\nnot with her lips, but in her heart. The snow had ceased falling. The\nclouds passing away, the heavens appeared brilliant with stars. The\ncloud had also passed away from Fleurange\u2019s soul, and a mysterious\nlight from on high was infused therein. She gazed at the starry sky\nwith delight, then closed her eyes, and again slept sweetly, the child\nin her arms sleeping as profoundly as herself.\n\n                          TO BE CONTINUED.\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n    SEVERAL CALUMNIES REFUTED; OR, EXECUTIVE DOCUMENT No. 37.[130]\n\n\nIn addition to the secular press, which seldom misses an opportunity\nof saying something ungracious of the Catholic Church, we have\npublished in the United States over a hundred so-called religious\nnewspapers, the principal stock-in-trade of which seems to be\nunlimited abuse of everything Catholic, and unqualified\nmisrepresentation of all who profess or teach the doctrines of our\nfaith. No dogma or point of discipline of Catholicity ever finds favor\nin the eyes of the individuals who fill the columns of those\npublications, and no man or woman who may see fit to devote his or her\nlife to the dissemination of the Gospel is safe from the malice or\nscurrility of their pens.\n\nFor the honor of the American character we are sorry to say that we\nhave daily evidence of this blind prejudice and reckless disregard of\ntruth on the part of this class of editors, many of whom arrogate to\nthemselves the title of \u201creverend\u201d; but we have some consolation in\nknowing that the more intelligent members of the sects are fast\ngrowing tired and ashamed of such senseless appeals to their passions\nand ill-founded traditions and that the time is not far distant when\nsuch efforts to sustain a sinking and indefensible cause will be\nencouraged only by the ignorant and wilfully blind.\n\nThese repeated and continuous attacks on the church are not the work\nof any one sect or confined to any particular locality, but are general\nwith all Protestants, and extended over the whole country. As long as     666\nthey are confined to newspapers, and afford employment and\nremuneration to a number of persons who probably could not gain a\nlivelihood in any other manner, we scarcely consider them worthy of\nserious attention; but we have had recently placed before us an\nofficial document, printed at the public expense for the edification\nof the United States Senate--and no doubt widely circulated throughout\nthe Union under the convenient frank of many pious members of\nCongress--in which are reproduced calumnies so gross, and falsehoods\nso glaring, that we consider it our duty not only to call public\nattention to it, but to demand from our rulers in Washington by what\nright and authority they print and circulate under official form a\ntissue of fabrications, misrepresentations, and even forgeries,\nagainst the religion, and the ministers of that religion, which is\nprofessed by five or six millions of free American citizens.\n\nThis document, known as _Executive Document No. 37_, XLI_st\nCongress_, III_d Session_, was furnished by Mr. Delano,\nSecretary of the Interior, in compliance with a resolution of the\nSenate, passed February 2, 1871, and is composed exclusively of\ninformation supplied by Rev. H. H. Spaulding to A. B. Meacham,\nSuperintendent of Indian Affairs, who in his letter of transmittal\nsays:\n\n     \u201cI am respectfully requested by the Rev. H. H. Spaulding, the\n     oldest living Protestant missionary in Oregon, to place on file\n     in your department the accompanying documents, giving a history\n     of the early missionary work and labors of Dr. Marcus Whitman,\n     himself, and others; the progress and civilization of the Indians\n     under their charge, without aid from the government; also, a\n     history of the massacre of Dr. Whitman and others; also,\n     resolutions of Christian associations in answer to _Executive\n     Document No. 38, House of Representatives_, and a variety of\n     historical information, which it would seem proper to have on\n     file, or placed in some more permanent form for future history.\u201d\n\nIt may be remarked that the letter from which the above is an extract\nis dated on the 28th of January, just five days before the passage of\nthe Senate resolution, and evidently in anticipation of such action on\nthe part of that body. \u201cNo one,\u201d says a distinguished senator, \u201cexcept\nthe few in the secret, knew anything of the matter until the document\nwas printed. All the previous proceedings were as of course.\u201d The\ndocuments that were thus to be \u201cplaced in a more permanent form for\nfuture history,\u201d apart from their uniformly infamous character, are\nperhaps the strangest in origin and composition that have ever been\npresented for the information of any deliberative body, much less one\nof the gravity and importance of the Senate of the republic. They\nconsist mainly of extracts from the religious press, so-called;\ninflammatory letters from jealous and disappointed preachers,\nincluding the Rev. H. H. Spaulding himself; depositions written out by\nthat indefatigable hater with his own hand, and changed in many\nessential points after having been sworn to and removed from the\ncontrol of the deponents; false quotations from _The Account of the\nMurder of Dr. Whitman_, by the Very Rev. J. B. A. Brouillet, V.G., and\nothers\u2019 statements of the massacre; an address from the professors of\nthat advanced educational institution called Oberlin College, Ohio;\nanswers to leading queries addressed to Oregon officials, based on a\nfalse and supposititious statement of facts; and, lastly, a report\nadopted and endorsed by eight associations, including the Old School,\nNew School, Cumberland, and United Presbyterians, Methodists, Baptists,   667\nCongregationalists, and the \u201cChristian Church of Oregon,\u201d and claiming\nto represent thirty thousand brother members, all of whom, though\ndiffering radically in other respects, are suspiciously unanimous in\ndenouncing the \u201cJesuits,\u201d and equally positive in affirming a previous\ncondition of affairs, their knowledge of which must of necessity have\ndepended solely on the statements of the veracious Rev. H. H.\nSpaulding. In style, the documents are unique, and have a very strong\nfamily resemblance. It is a judicious mixture of sanctimonious cant\nseldom heard outside of a camp-meeting, with a dash here and there of\nShakespeare and the modern poets, to give it variety, we suppose.\n\nNow, whence this solemn assembly of presbyteries and conferences, this\npile of affidavits and newspaper extracts, and the desire of the\nSenate to be enlightened as \u201cto the early labors of the missionaries\nof the American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions in Oregon,\ncommencing in 1836\u201d? Simply this. On the week commencing on the 29th\nof November, 1847, more than twenty-four years ago, a certain\nmissionary to the Cayuse Indians, named Dr. Whitman, who had resided\namong them for several years, was, with his wife and twelve other\nAmericans, brutally murdered by the savages; and it is now attempted\nby Spaulding, who was his friend, and missionary to the Nez Perces, a\nneighboring tribe, to fix the guilt of this foul outrage on the\nmissionary priests who in that year accompanied the Rt. Rev. A. M. A.\nBlanchet, Bishop of Nesqualy, to Oregon, and who, it is alleged,\ninstigated the Indians to commit the deed in order to get rid of the\nProtestant missions. At the time of the slaughter, there was with\nothers under Dr. Whitman\u2019s roof a young woman named Bewley, whom one\nof the chiefs desired to have for his wife; and it is also asserted\nthat not only did the priests encourage her to yield to the Indian\u2019s\nwishes, but forced her from the shelter of their home and refused her\nany protection whatever. Other charges growing out of this sad\ncalamity, such as baptizing children with the innocent blood of their\nvictims on their hands, inhumanity to the prisoners left unharmed,\nattempting the precious life of Spaulding, supplying the Cayuses with\nguns and ammunition, etc., are likewise alleged, but the first two are\nthe principal counts in this clerical indictment.\n\nThe slaughter of so many persons naturally created a great sensation\nin Oregon at the time, but for months after no one thought of\nattributing it to the interference of the Catholic missioners.\nHowever, Spaulding, whose mind had become disturbed by the\ncontemplation of the dangers he had escaped, and having to abandon his\nmission among the Nez Perces, and finding himself unemployed,\ngradually began to give a new version of the affair, and in\nconversation, preaching, and writing at first hinted, and next broadly\nasserted, that the \u201cJesuits\u201d were at the bottom of the whole matter.\nConsidering that the shock to his nervous system was so great that he\nnever entirely recovered from it, and that the repetition of the\nfalsehoods was so persistent, it is charitable to suppose that he\neventually came to believe them as truths; for no man in his right\nsenses would persist in forcing on the world such a compilation of\nimprobable statements and downright falsehoods as are contained in\n_Pub. Doc. No. 37_.\n\nAs there are always many persons, made credulous by ignorance or\nprejudice, willing to credit any anti-Catholic slander, the Rev.          668\nFather Brouillet, the only priest near the scene of the crime, wrote\nand published, in 1853, a full and authentic account of the whole\ntransaction, which was so clear and circumstantial that even the\ngreatest opponents of the Catholic priesthood were silenced. In 1857,\na special agent of the Treasury Department, J. Ross Browne, made a\ntour in the far West, and in reporting on the condition of the\naborigines, and the potent causes of war between them and the white\nsettlers, embodied in his statement Father Brouillet\u2019s pamphlet, which\ntogether formed _Pub. Doc. No. 38_, against which all the powers of\nthe presbyteries and conferences of Oregon, under the fitting\nleadership of a crazy preacher, are now directed, after a silence of\nmore than ten years. Is it any wonder that it is so often remarked\nthat the only bond of union, the sole vitalizing principles, of the\nsects are their hatred to Catholicity?\n\nA glance at the history of the early Indian mission in Oregon is\nnecessary to a clear understanding of the subject. It is well known\nthat for many years that portion of our common country was debatable\nground, and, while our government claimed the sovereignty and\nappointed officials to administer its affairs, the Hudson Bay Company\nheld possession and virtually controlled the inhabitants, nearly all\nof whom were Indians or half-breeds. Under the direction of the\ncompany, the natives were honest, peaceable, and well disposed.\nCaptain Bonneville, who visited the Nez Perces in 1832, says of them:\n\n     \u201cSimply to call these people religious would convey but a faint\n     idea of the deep hue of piety and devotion which pervades their\n     whole conduct. Their honesty is immaculate, and their purity of\n     purpose, and the observance of the rites of their religion, are\n     most uniform and remarkable. They are certainly more like a\n     nation of saints than a horde of savages.\u201d\n\n\u201cThis was a very enthusiastic view to take of the Nez Perces\u2019\ncharacter,\u201d says a Protestant authority, Mrs. Victor, \u201cwhich appeared\nall the brighter to the captain by contrast with the savage life which\nhe had witnessed in other places, and even by contrast with the\nconduct of the white trappers. But the Nez Perces were intellectually\nand morally an exception to all the Indian tribes west of the Missouri\nRiver. Lewis and Clarke found them different from any others; the\nfur-traders and the missionaries found them the same. To account for\nthis superiority is indeed difficult. The only clue to the cause is\nthe following statement of Bonneville. \u2018It would appear,\u2019 he says,\n\u2018that they had imbibed some notions of the Christian faith from\nCatholic missionaries and traders who have been among them. They even\nhad a rude calendar of the fasts and festivals of the Romish Church,\nand some traces of its ceremonial. These have become blended with\ntheir own wild rites, and present a strange medley, civilized and\nbarbarous.\u2019\u201d[131] It was in this happy and quiet condition that the\nfirst Protestant missionaries from the United States found the\nIndians. They were Methodist, and arrived in 1834, remaining for ten\nyears. \u201cNo missionary undertaking,\u201d says Rev. Stephen Olin, himself\none of the laborers, \u201chas been prosecuted by the Methodist Episcopal\nChurch with higher hopes and more ardent zeal.... This particular\nmission, involved an expenditure of forty-two thousand dollars in a\nsingle year. At the end of six years, there were sixty-eight persons      669\nconnected with this mission, men, women, and children, all supported\nby this society.\u201d[132] And the same writer adds: \u201cHow such a number of\nmissionaries found employment in such a field it is not easy to\nconjecture, especially as the great body of the Indians never came\nunder the influence of their labors.\u201d Dr. E. White, Sub-Indian Agent,\nwrites, in 1843: \u201cThe Rev. Mr. Lee and associates are doing but little\nfor the Indians.... With all that has been expended, without doubting\nthe correctness of the intention, it is most manifest to every\nobserver that the Indians of this lower country, as a whole, have been\nvery little benefited.\u201d[133]\n\nThe two Methodist stations established, at Clatsop\u2019s Plains and\nNesqualy were speedily abandoned, and that at the Dalles is described,\nin _Traits of American Indian Life_, as being in a most fearful\ncondition. \u201cThe occurrence,\u201d the author says, alluding to a murder by\na converted Indian which he had witnessed, \u201cis but the type of a\nthousand atrocities daily occurring among these supposed converts.\u201d\nAnd we have the authority of Mr. Gray for saying that \u201cthe giving of a\nfew presents of any description to them induces them to make\nprofessions corresponding to the wish of the donor.\u201d The success of\nthe missionaries at Willamette was, if possible, still more\ndisheartening. Mr. Olin says that of those who held relations with\nthem none remained in 1842; and Alexander Simpson, who visited the\nvalley about the same time, found the mission to consist of but four\nfamilies, those of a clergyman, surgeon, a schoolmaster, and an\nagricultural overseer. It is not strange, then, that two years\nafterwards the missions were entirely abandoned, and have never been\nattempted to be re-established. \u201cHad they met vice with a spotless\nlife,\u201d says Gray, \u201cand an earnest determination to maintain their\nintegrity as representatives of religion and a Christian people, the\nfruits of their labor would have been greater.\u201d We are forced,\ntherefore, to conclude that the author of _The River of the West_\nis justified in saying on this and other indisputable authority, \u201cso\nfar from benefiting the Indians, the Methodist mission became an\nactual injury to them\u201d--the Indians.\n\nThus ended the first chapter in the history of the progress and\ncivilization of the Indians in Oregon, to which we desire to call the\nrespectful attention of the United States Senate. We have the\ntestimony of Captain Bonneville, endorsed by Mrs. Victor, regarding\nthe honesty and piety of the natives in 1832, before the arrival of\nthe Methodists. After nine years of missionary labor, we have the\nfollowing grave statement from no less an authority than one of their\nown clergymen:\n\n     \u201cThe Indians want pay for being whipped into compliance with Dr.\n     White\u2019s laws, the same as they did for praying to please the\n     missionaries during the great Indian revival of 1839\u201d (p. 157).\n\n     \u201cAs a matter of course, lying has much to do in their system of\n     trade, and he is the best fellow who can tell the biggest\n     lie--make men believe and practise the greatest deception\u201d (p.\n     158).[134]\n\nThe Methodists having selected Lower Oregon as the field of their\nlabors, the Presbyterians chose the upper or eastern portion of the\nterritory. They arrived in 1836, three in number, afterwards increased\nto twelve, and backed up by the Board of Commissioners for Foreign\nMissions. Dr. Marius Whitman settled at Wailatpu among the Cayuses        670\nand Walla Wallas, and Messrs. H. H. Spaulding and W. H. Gray at\nLapwai, with the Nez Perces. In 1838, the Spokane mission was\nestablished by Messrs. Walker and Ellis. Their prospects of success\nwere at first most brilliant. The savages received them kindly and\nlistened to them attentively. \u201cThere was no want of ardor in the\nPresbyterian missionaries,\u201d says _The River of the West_. \u201cThey\napplied themselves in earnest to the work they had undertaken. They\nwere diligent in their efforts to civilize and christianize their\nIndians.\u201d But they made a fatal mistake at the very beginning, which\nnot only reflects on their personal honesty, but shows that they knew\nnothing of the character of the people they came to instruct. Mr. John\nToupin, who was for many years interpreter at Fort Walla Walla, gave,\nin 1848, the following account of the establishment of those missions:\n\n     \u201cI was there when Mr. Parker, in 1835, came to select places for\n     Presbyterian missions among the Cayuses and Nez Perces, and to\n     ask lands for these missions. He employed me as interpreter in\n     his negotiations with the Indians on that occasion. Mr. Pombrun,\n     the gentleman then in charge of the fort, accompanied him to the\n     Cayuses and the Nez Perces. Mr. Parker, in company with Mr.\n     Pombrun, an American, and myself, went first to the Cayuses upon\n     the lands called Wailatpu, that belonged to the three\n     chiefs--Splitted Lip, or Yomtipi; Red Cloak, or Waptachtakamal;\n     and Tilankaikt. Having met them at that place, he told them that\n     he was coming to select a place to build a preaching-house, to\n     teach them how to live, and to teach school to their children;\n     that he would not come himself to establish the mission, but a\n     doctor or a medicine-man would come in his place; that the doctor\n     would be the chief of the mission, and would come in the\n     following spring. \u2018I come to select a place for a mission,\u2019 said\n     he, \u2018but I do not intend to take your lands for nothing. After\n     the doctor is come, there will come every year a big ship loaded\n     with goods to be divided among the Indians. These goods will not\n     be sold, but given to you. The missionaries will bring you\n     ploughs and hoes to teach you how to cultivate the land, and they\n     will not sell, but give them to you.\u2019\n\n     \u201cFrom the Cayuses Mr. Parker went to the Nez Perces, about one\n     hundred and twenty-five miles distant, on the lands of Old\n     Button, on a small creek which empties into the Clearwater, seven\n     or eight miles from the actual mission, and there he made the\n     same promises to the Indians as at Wailatpu. \u2018Next spring there\n     will come a missionary to establish himself here and take a piece\n     of land; but he will not take it for nothing; you shall be paid\n     for it every year: this is the American fashion.\u2019 In the\n     following year, 1836, Dr. Whitman arrived among the Cayuses and\n     began to build. The Indians did not stop him, as they expected to\n     be paid as they said.\n\n     \u201cIn the summer of the year 1837, Splitted Lip asked him where the\n     goods which he had promised him were; whether he would pay him,\n     or whether he wanted to steal his lands. He told him that, if he\n     did not want to pay him, he had better go off immediately, for he\n     did not want to give his lands for nothing.\u201d[135]\n\nBut the doctor and his co-laborers did not pay for the lands, nor\nindeed fulfil any of the promises of Mr. Parker, and thus the expected\nneophytes received their first lesson in duplicity, which eventually\ndestroyed all confidence in the honesty and truthfulness of their\nteachers, and led directly to the massacre of Whitman and some of his\ncompanions, and to the total destruction of the Presbyterian missions.\nThis latter event occurred late in 1847. Let us see what had been done\nin the eleven previous years by the agents of the Board of\nCommissioners for Foreign Missions. In 1842, they had but three\nstations. \u201cAt each of these,\u201d says _The River of the West_,\n\u201cthere was a small body of land under cultivation, a few cattle and       671\nhogs, a flouring and saw mill, and a blacksmith\u2019s shop.\u201d In 1843, Mr.\nSpaulding writes to Dr. White, the Sub-Indian Agent: \u201cBut _two_\nnatives have as yet been admitted into the church. Some ten or twelve\nothers give pleasing evidence of having been born again.\u201d[136] It\nseems, then, that it took twelve missionaries seven years to convert\ntwo savages, at an expense of over forty thousand dollars for one year\nat least! Can the English Protestant mission for converting the\nHebrews in Jerusalem show any return more preposterous than this?\n\nBut the years intervening between this time and their entire\ndiscontinuance show no converts at all. Business was entirely\nsuspended, as far as spiritual affairs were concerned. Mr. Thomas\nMcKay, an intimate friend of Whitman, under date September 11, 1848,\nsays, \u201cThe doctor often told me that for a couple of years he had\nceased to teach the Indians, because they would not listen to him\u201d;\nand John Baptist Gervais about the same time assures us that \u201cMr.\nSpaulding told me himself, last fall, that for three or four years\nback he had ceased entirely to teach the Indians because they refused\nto hear him\u201d--a fact which that unscrupulous apostle corroborated in a\nconversation with Dr. Ponjade, in the preceding August. \u201cThe Indians,\u201d\nhe said, \u201care getting worse every day for two or three years back;\nthey are threatening to turn us out of the missions. A few days ago,\nthey tore down my fences, and I do not know what the Missionary Board\nof New York means to do. It is a fact that we are doing no good: when\nthe emigration passes, the Indians run off to trade, and return worse\nthan when we came among them.\u201d[137] Even as early as 1839, a missionary\nof the Spokanes, writing to Dr. Whitman, said that the failure of that\nmission was so strongly impressed on his mind, he felt it necessary\n\u201cto have cane in hand, and as much as one shoe on, ready for a move.\u201d\n\u201cI see,\u201d he adds, \u201cnothing but the power of God that can save us.\u201d\nWhen we consider this condition of affairs in connection with the\nbrutal massacre at Wailatpu by Dr. Whitman\u2019s immediate neighbors and\neven some members of his household and congregation, at a time of\nprofound peace, we can form some adequate idea of the benefits of the\n\u201cprogress and civilization of the Indians under their [Presbyterian]\ncharge.\u201d Will the United States Senate, in its laudable search after\ninformation, consult some of the authorities, who are with one\nexception Protestant, which we have quoted?\n\nThe Catholic missions may be said to have commenced in 1838. In that\nyear, two Catholic priests passed Walla Walla on their way from Canada\nto Fort Vancouver. In 1839 and 1840, one of them, Father Demers,\noccasionally visited Walla Walla, for a short time, to give\ninstruction to the Indians, many of whom were in the habit of visiting\nhim, particularly the Cayuses and Nez Perces at the fort. This\npresence excited the wrath of Dr. Whitman, and he presumed so far as\nto reprimand in severe language the gentleman in charge of the post.\n\u201cFrom the time the Jesuits arrived,\u201d says Gray, \u201chis own [H. H.\nSpaulding\u2019s] pet Indians had turned Catholics, and commenced a quarrel\nwith him. These facts seemed to annoy him, and led him to adopt a\ncourse opposed by Smith, Gray, and Rodgers.\u201d The visits of the\nCatholic missionaries were, however, few and far between, till the 5th\nof September, 1847, when the Rt. Rev. Bishop A. M. A. Blanchet arrived    672\nat Fort Walla Walla, accompanied by the Superior of the Oblates and\ntwo other clergymen, to establish permanent missions in Eastern\nOregon. It was the design of the bishop to locate a mission on the\nlands of Towatowe (Young Chief), a Catholic Indian, who had offered\nhim his own house for that purpose. The Young Chief, however, being\nabsent hunting, Dr. Blanchet was delayed at the fort, longer than he\nanticipated, and while there was visited by Protestant missionaries\nand Indian chiefs alike. The former treated him with great incivility\nand disrespect. Dr. Whitman, we are told by an eye-witness, \u201cmade a\nfurious charge against the Catholics, accusing them of having\npersecuted Protestants, and even of having shed their blood wherever\nthey had prevailed. He said he did not like Catholics; ... that he\nshould oppose the missionaries to the extent of his power.... He spoke\nagainst the _Catholic Ladder_ (a picture explaining the principal\npoints of Catholic faith), and said that he would cover it with blood\nto show the persecution of Protestants by Catholics. He refused to\nsell provisions to the bishop, and protested that he would not assist\nthe missionaries unless he saw them in starvation.\u201d[138] The temper of\nthe savages was milder than their would-be evangelizers. On the 26th\nof October, Young Chief came to the fort, and asked for a priest to be\nsent to teach his young people. He repeated the offer of his house,\nbut suggested as a substitute the lands of his relative Tilokaikt,\nupon which Dr. Whitman was settled. On November 4, the four chiefs of\nthe Cayuses assembled at Walla Walla, and after a long \u201ctalk\u201d agreed\nto let the bishop have a site for a mission and as much ground to\ncultivate as was necessary to support the priests. The bishop \u201ctold\nthem,\u201d says Father Brouillet, \u201cthat he would not make presents to the\nIndians; that he would give them nothing for the land he asked; that\nin case they worked for him he would pay them for their work and no\nmore.\u201d The author just quoted was sent among the Cayuses to select a\nproper site, but, not finding one suitable, accepted Young Chief\u2019s\noffer, a camp fully twenty-five miles from Dr. Whitman\u2019s residence, in\nthe midst of another tribe altogether. As one of the many traits of\nChristian charity which distinguishes the Catholic missionaries in\nevery part of the world, it may be mentioned that, during the\nconference at the fort, one of the chiefs spoke of Dr. Whitman in very\nharsh terms, accusing him of dishonesty and mercenary motives. Bishop\nBlanchet reproved him instantly, sternly telling him that the doctor\nwas a good man, and that he, the chief, had a bad heart to say so; and\nwhen Father Brouillet was offered, by Tilokaikt, Whitman\u2019s own mission\nfor Catholic purposes for nothing, he positively and peremptorily\ndeclined it. And yet _Pub. Doc. No. 37_ would have us believe that the\nCatholics coveted Whitman\u2019s Station, and were resolved to have it at\nany cost. On November 27, the bishop, with his secretary and Father\nBrouillet, proceeded to the new station at Umatilla. On the day\nfollowing, Sunday, they were visited by Whitman, and on Monday by\nSpaulding, who remained for supper, both these gentleman, it seems,\nhaving modified their views during the previous two months\u2019\nintercourse with the missionaries. It was on this latter day, between\ntwo and three o\u2019clock in the afternoon, that Whitman and his\ncompanions were murdered. The account of that horrible event, as          673\nrelated by Father Brouillet, who was on the ground two days after, is\nstill highly interesting. In a letter to Colonel Gilliam, three months\nlater, when the facts were fresh in his memory, and every resident of\nthe neighborhood was in a position to disprove anything he might say\nthat was false, he writes:\n\n     \u201cBefore leaving Fort Walla Walla, it had been decided that, after\n     visiting the sick people of my mission on the Umatilla, I should\n     go and visit those of Tilokaikt\u2019s camp, for the purpose of\n     baptizing the infants, and such dying adults as might desire this\n     favor; and the doctor and Mr. Spaulding having informed me that\n     there were many sick persons at their missions, I was confirmed\n     in the resolution, and made preparations to go as soon as\n     possible.\n\n     \u201cAfter having finished in baptizing the infants and dying adults\n     of my mission, I left on Tuesday, the 30th of November, late in\n     the afternoon, for Tilokaikt\u2019s camp, where I arrived between\n     seven and eight o\u2019clock in the evening. It is impossible to\n     conceive my surprise and consternation when, upon my arrival, I\n     learned that the Indians the day before had massacred the doctor\n     and his wife, with the greater part of the Americans at the\n     mission. I passed the night without scarcely closing my eyes.\n     Early next morning I baptized three sick children, two of whom\n     died soon after, and then hastened to the scene of death to offer\n     to the widows and orphans all the assistance in my power. I found\n     five or six women and over thirty children in a condition\n     deplorable beyond description. Some had lost their husbands, and\n     others their fathers, whom they had seen massacred before their\n     eyes, and were expecting every moment to share the same fate. The\n     sight of those persons caused me to shed tears, which, however, I\n     was obliged to conceal, for I was, the greater part of the day,\n     in the presence of the murderers, and closely watched by them,\n     and, if I had shown too marked an interest in behalf of the\n     sufferers, it would only have endangered their lives and mine;\n     these, therefore, entreated me to be on my guard. After the first\n     few words that could be exchanged under the circumstances, I\n     inquired after the victims, and was told that they were yet\n     unburied. Joseph Stainfield, a Frenchman, who was in the service\n     of Dr. Whitman, and had been spared by the Indians, was engaged\n     in washing the corpses, but, being alone, he was unable to bury\n     them. I resolved to go and assist him, so as to render to those\n     unfortunate victims the last service in my power to offer them.\u201d\n\nThe reverend father then goes on to relate how, after comforting the\nwomen and children as well as he could, and having been told by the\nchief \u201cto say to them that they need fear nothing, they shall be taken\ncare of and well treated,\u201d he set out toward his mission, in order to\nintercept Spaulding and warn him of his danger. He was accompanied by\nhis interpreter, and closely followed by a son of the chief, who, it\nafterward appeared, was going to his uncle Camastilo to acquaint him\nof the slaughter. His meeting with Spaulding is graphic, and, if not\nfor the hideous surroundings, would be amusing. He says:\n\n     \u201cIn a few minutes after, while they were thus engaged in smoking,\n     I saw Mr. Spaulding coming toward me. In a moment he was at my\n     side, taking me by the hand and asking for news. \u2018Have you been\n     to the doctor\u2019s?\u2019 he inquired. \u2018Yes,\u2019 I replied. \u2018What news?\u2019\n     \u2018Sad news.\u2019 \u2018Is any person dead?\u2019 \u2018Yes, sir.\u2019 \u2018Who is dead--is it\n     one of the doctor\u2019s children?\u2019 (He had left two of them very\n     sick.) \u2018No,\u2019 I replied. \u2018Who, then, is dead?\u2019 I hesitated to\n     tell. \u2018Wait a moment,\u2019 I said, \u2018I cannot tell you now.\u2019 While Mr.\n     Spaulding was asking me those questions, I had spoken to my\n     interpreter, telling him to entreat the Indian in my name not to\n     kill Mr. Spaulding, which I begged of him as a special favor, and\n     hoped that he would not refuse it to me. I was waiting for his\n     answer, and did not wish to relate the disaster to Mr. Spaulding\n     before getting it, for fear he might by his manner discover to\n     the Indian what I had told him, for the least motion like flight     674\n     would have cost him his life, and probably exposed mine also. The\n     son of Tilokaikt, after hesitating some moments, replied that he\n     could not take it upon himself to save Mr. Spaulding, but that he\n     would go back and consult the other Indians, and so he started\n     back immediately to his camp. I then availed myself of this\n     absence to satisfy the anxiety of Mr. Spaulding. I related to him\n     what had passed. \u2018The doctor is dead,\u2019 said I; \u2018the Indians have\n     killed him, together with his wife and eight other Americans, on\n     Monday last, the 29th, and I have buried them before leaving\n     to-day.\u2019 \u2018The Indians have killed the doctor--they will kill me\n     also if I go to the camp!\u2019 \u2018I fear it very much,\u2019 said I. \u2018What,\n     then, shall I do?\u2019 \u2018I know not. I have told you what has\n     happened. Decide now for yourself what you had best do. I have no\n     advice to give you in regard to that.\u2019 \u2018Why has that Indian\n     started back?\u2019 he inquired. \u2018I begged him to spare your life,\u2019\n     said I, \u2018and he answered me that he could not take it upon\n     himself to do so, but that he would go and take the advice of the\n     other Indians about it; that is the reason why he started back.\u2019\n     Mr. Spaulding seemed frightened and discouraged. \u2018Is it possible!\n     is it possible!\u2019 he exclaimed several times. \u2018They will certainly\n     kill me.\u2019 And he was unable to come to any decision. \u2018But what\n     could have prompted the Indians to this?\u2019 he inquired. \u2018I know\n     not,\u2019 said I; \u2018but be quick and decide, you have no time to lose.\n     If the Indians should resolve not to spare your life, they will\n     be here very soon, as we are only about three miles from their\n     camp. \u2018But where shall I go?\u2019 \u2018I know not; you know the country\n     better than I. All I know is that the Indians say the order to\n     kill all Americans has been sent in all directions.\u2019 Mr.\n     Spaulding then resolved to fly. His asked me if I were willing to\n     take charge of some loose horses he was driving before him. I\n     told him I could not, for fear of becoming suspicious to the\n     Indians. I told him, however, that if the interpreter was willing\n     to take them under his charge at his own risk, he was perfectly\n     at liberty to do so. To this the interpreter agreed. I gave Mr.\n     Spaulding what provisions I had left, and hastened to take leave\n     of him, wishing him with all my heart a happy escape, and\n     promising to pray for him.... The interpreter had not left\n     Mr. Spaulding (after pointing out a byroad) more than twenty\n     minutes, when he saw three armed Cayuses riding hastily toward\n     him in pursuit of Mr. Spaulding. Upon coming up to the\n     interpreter, they seemed much displeased that I had warned Mr.\n     Spaulding of their intentions, and thereby furnished him an\n     opportunity to escape.\u2019 The priest ought to have minded his own\n     business, and not to have interfered with ours,\u2019 they said in an\n     angry tone, and started immediately in pursuit of him.\u201d[139]\n\nThis Spaulding escaped to tell the tale, and to traduce the character\nof the priest that saved his life at the risk of his own. At first, he\nwas inclined to acknowledge the obligation, for in a letter to his\n\u201creverend and dear friend,\u201d as he styles Bishop Blanchet, eight days\nafter, he writes: \u201cThe hand of the merciful God brought me to my\nfamily after six days and nights from the time _my dear friend_\nfurnished me with provisions and I escaped from the Indians.\u201d This\neffort of gratitude was, however, too much for him to sustain, and,\naccordingly, we find published in _The Oregon American_ (p. 13) the\nfollowing choice specimen of bigotry and base ingratitude, \u201cworse than\nthe sin of witchcraft.\u201d He says:\n\n     \u201cIt has been said by some of my friends in this country that they\n     felt greatly mortified to see me in the dust at the bishop\u2019s feet\n     begging for my life.... This is not the first time that\n     Protestants (that is, heretics) have lain prostrate at the feet\n     of the Pope of Rome. I saw my life, under God, in the hands of\n     the bishop and the priests. I had a right to ask it again. I\n     seemed to see the hands of these priests wet with the blood of\n     our associates.... I stopped not to ask whose hands placed the\n     bishop\u2019s foot upon my neck, the lives of so many human beings\n     were worth the struggle.\u201d\n\nCan the force of prejudice and deception go further than this? Here is\na man, who, if not an open enemy of the missionaries, was certainly a     675\nviolent opponent, whose life was saved by one of them at a most\ncritical moment at imminent danger to his own, who was shown the\npathway by which he might escape the fury of the savages whose hatred\nhe had awakened by long years of injustice, and who was even supplied\nwith food from the poor priest\u2019s scrip, turning round on his\nbenefactors when he attained a place of safety, and vilifying the\nchurch and religion to whose lesson of charity he owed his miserable\nexistence. This is the man, too, upon whose authority the \u201cChristian\nAssociations of Oregon\u201d have undertaken to brand the heroic priests of\nthat section as instigators of murder; and who has undertaken to\ninform the Senate, and provide Mr. Delano with matters for history \u201cin\na more permanent form.\u201d\n\nAnd here it may be well to dispose of some of the minor charges.\n_Pub. Doc. No. 37_, at page 30, says of the scenes of the Whitman\nmassacre:\n\n     \u201cThey [the Indian children] leaped and screamed for joy, throwing\n     handfuls of blood around, drinking down the dying agonies of\n     their victims as a precious draught. These blood-stained little\n     savages were to receive the sacred ordinance of baptism a few\n     hours after, at the hands of the priest of God--the mangled\n     bodies yet lying unburied around, the food of dogs and wolves by\n     night, and of hogs and vultures by day, seeming to pay down to\n     the Indians for what they had done.\u201d\n\nWe are not aware that in the whole course of Protestant history there\nis to be found a more deliberate, cool, and atrocious tissue of\nfalsehoods than the above. Two days, not a few hours, after the\nmurder, _three_ sick children were baptized, of whom two were so ill\nthat they died the same day. Are those some of the children who leaped\nand screamed for joy? The baptism took place two miles from Whitman\u2019s\nStation, so that the bodies of the slain could not well have been\nlying around. The dogs and wolves, hogs and vultures, are purely the\ncreation of the Rev. H. H. Spaulding\u2019s imagination, and would, in\nvulgar parlance, be styled \u201cpiling on the agony.\u201d Before the arrival\nof Father Brouillet, Joseph Stainfield had already washed the corpses,\nand, with the assistance of the good priest, they were buried. The\ninsinuation in the last line is worthy of Spaulding, and shows to what\nextremes a man will go whose sense of truth and even decency has\nbecome completely blunted.\n\nAnother charge against the missionaries is that they acted inhumanly\nwith the captives, and that Father Brouillet, who promised to return\nto them, neglected to do so. It is true he did not do so, and the\nprisoners may thank Mr. Spaulding for his not returning. Had he not\nbeen as solicitous about saving that individual\u2019s life, and thereby\nenable him to go down to the grave at an old age with a load of\nfalsehood and forgeries on his soul, he would never have incurred the\nill-feeling of the Indians of Wailatpu, or be himself kept a prisoner\nin Young Chief\u2019s tent for two or three weeks. But his thoughts and\nthose of his fellow-missionaries were with the unfortunates, and his\nevery effort was used, and successfully too, for their liberation.\nWhile Spaulding, from his mission with the Nez Perces, was writing\nlying letters to his \u201creverend and dear friend,\u201d Bishop Blanchet,\nsoliciting his good offices with the Indians with regard to the\ncaptives, amongst whom was his own daughter, that ecclesiastic was\ncalling around him the chiefs of the Cayuses, admonishing them to\ntreat their captives kindly, promising to write to the American\ngovernor for terms of peace, and attending a council at Fort Walla        676\nWalla, at which the Indians consented and actually did liberate the\nprisoners, the ransom being paid by the agents of the much abused\nHudson Bay Company. Spaulding himself was then virtually a prisoner\namong the Nez Perces, with whom he lived eleven years, and \u201cwas very\nmuch beloved,\u201d if we may believe his own statement.\n\nWe now come to what we may be permitted to call the first grand\nfalsehood, as set forth in _Pub. Doc. No. 37_, for the information of\nthe Senate and the benefit of history, namely, that the Whitman\nmurderers were instigated by the \u201cJesuits.\u201d This calumny is repeated\nin several places and in many forms in this extraordinary public\ndocument, and may be supposed to be crystallized in the two following\nparagraphs:\n\n     \u201cWhen the Jesuits and English had, by means of Indian runners,\n     excited the surrounding tribes to butcher the Protestant\n     missionaries and American emigrants at Wailatpu, and to\n     exterminate the American settlements on the Pacific, the Nez\n     Perces refused to join them, and rushed at once to the defence of\n     their beloved teacher, Mrs. Spaulding, and rescued her and her\n     infants from a band of forty of the murderers; then, second, fled\n     to the scene of the eight days\u2019 carnage, and by their influence\n     stopped the bloody work of the Jesuits.\u201d (_Resolutions adopted by\n     the Pleasant Butte Baptist Church of Linn Co., Oregon, Oct. 22,\n     1869._)\n\n     \u201cThis Brouilette [Brouillet], it is proved in part by his own\n     testimony, was present at the massacre, doing nothing to save the\n     victims, but baptizing the children of the murdering Indians, and\n     otherwise stimulating them to their work of death.\u201d (_Report of the\n     Committee of the Presbytery of Steuben, adopted by the Christian\n     Associations of Oregon, 1869._)\n\nSurely this is history run mad. In fact, so gross are the\nmisstatements that we are inclined to think that Spaulding either\nforged the signatures or interpolated the resolutions of the\nassociations--a proceeding which, it will appear further on, he was\nperfectly capable of doing. Now, it is well known, and stated even by\nSpaulding (_Pub. Doc. No. 37_), that the so-called \u201cJesuits,\u201d namely,\nBishop Blanchet and his priests, had only been in that part of the\ncountry a short time--Father Brouillet says two months, but Spaulding\nreduces it to six weeks; that no Catholic mission had been established\nwithin hundreds of miles of Whitman\u2019s Station till two days previous\nto the mission, when one was commenced at Umatilla, twenty-five miles\ndistant, among a tribe of the Cayuses, who had no act or part in the\ncrime; that there never was a Catholic missionary, Jesuit or\notherwise, in the camps of Tilokaikt, where Whitman resided till two\ndays after the massacre, but once, and that for a short time when\nFather Brouillet was invited by the chief to go and procure a site for\na mission, in which he failed; and, finally, that the Indians who did\nthe bloody deed were near neighbors of the doctor, the worst being a\nmember of his household; and that _every one of them were Protestants_,\nas Spaulding himself partly admits[140] (_Ex. Doc. No. 37_). Even the\nRev. Gustavus Hines, who is named as one of the assistants in the         677\ncompilation of this document, says in his _History of Oregon_, in\ndescribing a council of chiefs in 1843: \u201cTilokaikt, a Cayuse chief,\nrose and said, \u2018What do you read the laws for before we take them? We\ndo not take the laws because Tanitan says so. He is a Catholic, and as\na people we do not follow his worship!\u201d The story of Father Brouillet\nhaving been on the scene of massacre stimulating the Indians in their\nwork of death is a poor fabrication, for the doctor visited the bishop\nand his two priests at Umatilla, twenty-five miles distant, late on\nSunday, the 28th, and on the 29th, the day of the slaughter, Spaulding\nhimself supped with them at the same place. The ridiculous reference\nto the Nez Perces, under the supposition that they were Protestants,\nis simply absurd. The fact is that Spaulding says, in his letter to\nhis \u201creverend and dear friend\u201d the bishop, the Nez Perces only\npromised to protect him and the American settlers if troops were not\nsent against the Cayuses, and that they demanded and received from Mr.\nOgden, of Walla Walla, clothing, ammunition, and tobacco before they\nwould release their \u201cbeloved teacher,\u201d her husband and infants. The\nonly Nez Perces who fled to the scene to stop \u201cthe bloody work of the\nJesuits\u201d were two messengers of that tribe who bore his treacherous\nletter to the bishop, begging him to assure the Cayuses that he would\nuse every effort to prevent the troops from being sent against them,\nand which he afterwards declared was meant to deceive both the bishop\nand the Indians.[141] No sooner, however, was he out of danger than he\nused his best efforts to bring on a war. \u201cI recollect distinctly,\u201d\nsays Major Magone, \u201cthat he was not in favor of killing _all_ the\nCayuses, for he gave me the names of four or five that he knew to be\nfriendly, and another whom I marked as questionable: the balance, if I\nam not very much mistaken, _he would have to share one fate_.\u201d Truly,\nthis was strange advice from a minister of the Gospel of peace, and\nfrom one who wished the bishop to assure the Indians \u201cthat we do not\nwish Americans to come from below to avenge our wrongs,\u201d etc.\n\nBut apart from the credibility of the witness Spaulding, and the\nimpossibility of the Catholic missionaries stirring up the Protestant\nIndians to the work of death, even if they so desired, not to speak of\ntheir early, continuous, and indignant denials of every statement and\nassertion put forth by the Oregon fanatics, we have the evidence of\nseveral persons, all Protestants we are inclined to believe, who were\neither in the neighborhood at the time, or arrived soon after. R. T.\nLockwood, an old resident of Oregon and a prominent contributor to the\npress, relates the following conversation which he had in 1851 with\none of the Indians who was a spectator of the murder:\n\n     \u201cQ. Do the Indians generally want the Catholic priests among\n     them, and, if so, why do they prefer them to such men as Dr.\n     Whitman?\n\n     \u201cA. No, not generally; yet a considerable number do, and prefer\n     them because they do not try to get our land away from us.\n\n     \u201cQ. Did the priests that came among you, a little before the\n     massacre, encourage the killing of Dr. Whitman and the others?\n\n     \u201cA. No. The killing of Dr. Whitman was resolved on before the\n     priests came.\n\n     \u201cQ. Are you a Catholic Indian?\n\n     \u201cA. No, sir.\u201d\n\nSome time after, Mr. Lockwood met a Mrs. Foster, one of the survivors.\n\u201cI asked her,\u201d he says, \u201cif she thought the priest had anything to do     678\nwith the massacre, and she said she did not think he did, as he\nappeared very much pained, and was very kind and tender towards the\nsurvivors. I asked her, also, if she thought that the priest did all\nhe safely could, and she answered, \u2018I do.\u2019\u201d This impartial and\nwell-informed gentleman winds up his letter thus: \u201cSuffice it to say\nthat, in all I ever heard said in regard to this lamentable massacre\n(and it has been much) _prior to the last two years_, there was not\nthe slightest intimation of you or any other Catholic priest being\nimplicated, or in any way responsible therefor.\u201d[142]\n\n\u201cWhy is the Catholic exempt from danger? Why can the Hudson Bay\nCompany employee remain amid these scenes of blood and Indian\nvengeance against the white race, at peace, undisturbed, and, what is\nmore loathsome, neutral in such a conflict?\u201d asks the Hon. Elwood\nEvans of Spaulding, in 1868. The answer is simple. Because the\nCatholic priests treat the Indians with uniform kindness and justice;\nbecause they neither deceive them with false promises nor appropriate\ntheir lands and labor without payment, and because, being ministers of\npeace, they are opposed to strife; all of which Whitman, Spaulding,\nand his missionary companions did not and were not. And this brings us\nto the real cause of the massacre. For the sake of the Senate which\ndesires information, and for Mr. Delano\u2019s future history, we will give\na few extracts from authorities which, if at all prejudiced, would be\non the side of the Protestant view:\n\n     \u201c\u2018I came to select a place for a mission,\u2019 said he, \u2018but I do not\n     intend to take your lands for nothing. After the doctor is come,\n     there will come every year a big ship, loaded with goods to be\n     divided among the Indians. These goods will not be sold, but\n     given to you. The missionaries will bring you ploughs and hoes,\n     to teach you to cultivate the land, and they will not sell but\n     give them to you.\u2019... And there [among the Nez Perces] he made\n     the same promises to the Indians as at Wailatpu.\u201d (_Mr. John\n     Toupin\u2019s Statement, in 1848, of the Foundation of the Presbyterian\n     Missions by Mr. Parker, in 1835._)\n\n     \u201cTwo years ago. 1846, a Cayuse came to my house in the Willamette\n     settlement, and stopped with me over two weeks. During that time\n     he often spoke of Dr. Whitman, complaining that he possessed the\n     lands of the Indians, on which he was raising a great deal of\n     wheat, which he was selling to the Americans, without giving them\n     anything; that he had a mill upon their lands, and that they had\n     to pay him for grinding their wheat, a big horse for twenty\n     sacks. He said they told him to leave, but that he would not\n     listen to them.\u201d (_Ib._)\n\n     \u201cA man of easy, don\u2019t-care habits, that could become all things\n     to all men, and yet a sincere and earnest man, speaking his mind\n     before he thought the second time, giving his views on all\n     subjects without much consideration, correcting them when good\n     reasons were presented, yet, when fixed in the pursuit of an\n     object, adhering to it with unflinching tenacity. A stranger\n     would consider him _fickle_ and _stubborn_.\u201d (_Character of Dr.\n     Whitman by a brother missionary, Rev. W. H. Gray._)\n\n     \u201cThe Americans had done them much harm. Years before, had not one\n     of their missionaries suffered several of their people, and the\n     son of their chiefs, to be slain in his company, yet himself\n     escaped? Had not the son of another chief (Elijah), who had gone\n     to California to buy cattle, been killed by Americans for no\n     fault of his own?... So far as regarded the missionaries, Dr.\n     Whitman and his associates, they were divided, yet so many looked\n     on the doctor as an agent in promoting the settlement of the\n     country with whites, it was thought best to drive him from the\n     country, together with all the missionaries, _several years_\n     before. Dr. Whitman had known that the Indians were displeased\n     with his settlement among them. They had told him of it; they had    679\n     treated him with violence, they had attempted to outrage his\n     wife, had burned his property, and had several times warned him\n     to leave their country, or they should kill him.\u201d (_River of the\n     West_, p. 400.)\n\n     \u201cThe fulfilment of the laws which the agent recommended for their\n     adoption, ... occasioned suspicions in the minds of the Indians\n     generally that the whites designed the ultimate subjugation of\n     their tribes. They saw in the laws they had adopted a deep-laid\n     scheme of the whites to destroy them and take possession of their\n     country. The arrival of a large party of emigrants about this\n     time, and the sudden departure of Dr. Whitman to the United\n     States, with the avowed intention of bringing back with him as\n     many as he could enlist for Oregon, served to hasten them to the\n     above conclusions.... The great complaint of the Indians was that\n     the Boston people [Americans] designed to take away their lands,\n     and reduce them to slavery.\u201d (_Rev. Gustavus Hines, D.D., assistant\n     of Spaulding, in Pub. Doc. No. 37, on the Nez Perces in 1843,\n     History of Oregon_, p. 143.)\n\n     \u201cThey [the Indians] were demanding unreasonable pay for their\n     lands upon which the stations were erected, and paying but little\n     or no attention to their American teachers.\u201d (_Gray\u2019s History of\n     Oregon_, p. 365.)\n\n     \u201cThe fact is also shown that, as far back as 1835, the Indians\n     west of the Rocky Mountains protested against the taking away of\n     their lands by the white races, and this was one of the alleged\n     causes of the murder of Dr. Whitman.\u201d (_J. Ross Browne, Special\n     Agent of the Treasury, Report to the Com. of Indian Affairs_,\n     Dec. 4, 1857.)\n\nThus we find that, whatever credit may be claimed for Dr. Whitman as a\ncolonist, his course toward the people whom he was sent to evangelize\nwas anything but just or Christian; for he not only did not pay for\nhis own land, but helped others to steal also, and he admits himself\nthat for some years he had utterly neglected the spiritual and mental\nduties of his mission. But there were other and not less potent causes\nat work. Of his \u201cesteemed friend Dr. Whitman,\u201d Sir James Douglass,\nchief factor of the Hudson Bay Company, writes on December 9, ten days\nafter the massacre:\n\n     \u201cHe hoped that time and instruction would produce a change of\n     mind--a better state of feeling toward the mission, and he might\n     have lived to have seen his hopes realized, had not the measles\n     and dysentery, following in the train of immigrants from the\n     United States, made frightful ravages this year in the upper\n     country. Many Indians have been carried off through the violence\n     of the disease, and others through their own imprudence. The\n     Cayuse Indians of Wailatpu, being sufferers in this general\n     calamity, were incensed against Dr. Whitman for not exerting his\n     supposed supernatural power in saving their lives. They carried\n     this absurdity beyond the point of folly. Their superstitious\n     minds became possessed of the horrible suspicion that he was\n     giving poison to the sick instead of wholesome medicine, with the\n     view of working the destruction of the tribe, his former cruelty\n     probably adding strength to their suspicions. Still, some of the\n     reflecting had confidence in Dr. Whitman\u2019s integrity, and it was\n     agreed to test the effects of the medicine he had furnished on\n     three of their people, one of whom was said to be in perfect\n     health. They unfortunately died, and from that moment it was\n     resolved to destroy the mission. It was immediately after burying\n     the remains of these three persons that they repaired to the\n     mission and murdered every man found there.\u201d\n\nSeveral other contemporary writers confirm this calm statement of\nevents, which in themselves were enough to drive ignorant and\ndesperate savages (for it must be borne in mind that Dr. Whitman had\ngiven up instructing them for some years to attend to his wheat and\nhorses) to commit any act of murder or rapine. To show that the\n\u201chorrible suspicion\u201d of having been poisoned was not a mere groundless\nsuspicion on the part of the Indians, we present the following\ntestimony:\n\n     \u201cI spent the winter of 1846 in Dr. Whitman\u2019s employment. I           680\n     generally worked at the saw-mill. During the time I was there, I\n     observed that Dr. Whitman was in the habit of poisoning wolves. I\n     did not see him put the poison in the baits for the wolves; but\n     two of his young men of the house, by his order, were poisoning\n     pieces of meat, and distributing them in the places where the\n     wolves were in the habit of coming, at a short distance around\n     the establishment of the doctor. The doctor once gave me some\n     arsenic to poison the wolves that were around the saw-mill....\n     Some Indians who happened to pass there took the meat and ate it;\n     three of them were very sick, and were near dying.... Mr. Gray,\n     who was then [1840] living with the doctor, offered us as many\n     melons to eat as we liked, but he warned us at the same time not\n     to eat them indiscriminately, as some of them were poisoned. \u2018The\n     Indians,\u2019 said he, \u2018are continually stealing our melons. To stop\n     them, we have put a little poison on the bigger ones, _in order\n     that the Indians who will eat them might be a little sick_.\u2019\u201d\n     (_Statement of John Young, corroborated by Augustine Raymond._)\n\nIn addition to these acts of imprudence, the doctor, it seems, had\nearned for himself an unenviable unpopularity. He was constantly\nextorting overpay in horses from them, and threatening them with\nsoldiers and emigrants if they refused it. After having a quarrel with\nthem on one occasion, \u201cduring which they insulted him, covered him\nwith mud,\u201d and even attempted his life, \u201che started for the United\nStates, telling the Indians that he was going to see the great chief\nof the Americans, and that when he would return he would bring with\nhim many people to chastise them; the Indians had been looking to his\nreturn with great fear and anxiety.\u201d[143] At another time, in the fall\nof 1847, he said to the Indians at Walla Walla in the presence of\nseveral white men, \u201cSince you are so wicked, such robbers, we shall\nsend for troops to chastise you, and next fall we will see here five\nhundred dragoons, who will take care of you.\u201d But even Doctor Whitman,\n\u201cfickle and obstinate\u201d as he was, could not entirely overlook the\ndangers that beset him for so many years, and at the solicitation of\nhis friend had been preparing to leave his station long before the\narrival of the Catholic missionaries. Mr. Thomas McKay, whom the\ndoctor had invited to stop the winter of 1847-8 with him for\nprotection, says, \u201cHe told me repeatedly, during the last two years\nespecially, that he wished to leave, as he knew the Indians were\nill-disposed toward him, and that it was dangerous for him to stay\nthere; but that he wished all the chiefs to tell him to go away, in\norder to _excuse himself to the Board of Foreign Missions_.\u201d Dangerous\nand fatal mistake, which cost the lives of thirteen innocent people,\nand closed the unfortunate man\u2019s earthly career!\n\nNow for the affair of the young woman Miss Bewley, who is described in\n_Pub. Doc. No. 37_, p. 35, indifferently as an \u201camiable young saint,\u201d\na \u201cdear girl,\u201d and \u201can angel.\u201d It is charged that, when Five Crows\ndemanded her for his wife, and she refusing to go with him, the\nbishops and priests urged her to go, and even thrust her out-of-doors\nwhen she refused. So little credence was given this specific calumny,\nfor many years after the alleged occurrence, that the only mention we\nfind made of it in _The Murder of Dr. Whitman_ is the following\nparagraph:\n\n     \u201cBefore taking leave of the chiefs, the bishop said to them all\n     publicly, as he had also done several times privately, that those\n     who had taken American girls should give them up immediately. And\n     then all entreated Five Crows to give up the one he had taken,\n     but to no purpose.\u201d\n\nNow let us hear Father Brouillet\u2019s account of the affair in               681\ncontradiction to Miss Bewley\u2019s deposition:\n\n     \u201cWe did,\u201d says the reverend gentleman, \u201call that charity could\n     claim, and even more than prudence seemed to permit. We kept her\n     for seventeen days in our house, provided for all her wants, and\n     treated her well, and if she had minded us, and heeded our advice\n     and entreaties, she would never have been subjected to that\n     Indian. When she came first to our house, and told us that Five\n     Crows had sent for her to be his wife, we asked her what she\n     wanted to do. Did she want to go with him, or not? She said she\n     did not want to go with him. \u2018Stay with us, then, if you like; we\n     will do for you what we can,\u2019 was our offer. When the evening\n     came, the Indian chief called for her. The writer then requested\n     his interpreter to tell him that she did not want to be his wife,\n     and that, therefore, he did not want her to go with him. The\n     interpreter, who was an Indian, allied by marriage to the\n     Cayuses, and knew the chiefs disposition well, would not provoke\n     his anger, and refused to interpret. The writer, then making use\n     of a few Indian words he had picked up during the few days he had\n     been there, and with the aid of signs, spoke to the Indian\n     himself, and succeeded in making him understand what he meant.\n     The Indian rose furiously and without uttering a word went away.\n     The young woman then got frightened, and wanted to go for fear he\n     might come back and do us all an injury. The writer tried to\n     quiet her, and insisted that she should remain at our house, but\n     to no avail; she must go, and off she went. The Indian, still in\n     his fit of anger, refused to receive her, and sent her back. She\n     remained with us three or four days undisturbed; until one\n     evening, without any violence on the part of the Indian, or\n     without advising with us, she went with him to his lodge. She\n     came back the next morning, went off again in the evening, and\n     continued so, without being forced by the Indian, and part of the\n     time going by herself, until at last she was told to select\n     between the Indian\u2019s lodge and our house, as such a loose way of\n     acting could not be suffered any longer. That was the first and\n     only time that she offered any resistance to the will of the\n     Indian; but, indeed, her resistance was very slight, if we can\n     believe her own statement.\u201d\n\nThis is a very different account from that sworn to by Miss Bewley,\nbut written by Spaulding, as he says himself, _Ex. Doc. No. 37_, p. 27:\n\u201cI would go to an individual, and take down in writing what he or she\nknew, and then go before a magistrate, and the individual would make\nan oath to the statement, the officer certifying.\u201d There is no mention\nthat the parties were permitted to read what their amanuensis took\ndown, and all who are acquainted with such _ex-parte_ depositions know\nhow easily it would be to alter their sense and meaning by an\nunscrupulous person--which we are about to show Spaulding to be. In\nthis very statement there are two interpolations, one of eight lines\non page 35 of _Ex. Doc. No. 37_, beginning with the words \u201cI arose,\u201d\nand one of six on the following page, at \u201cThe next day,\u201d which\nmaterially alter the whole meaning of the document. This alteration of\na sworn statement by any but the affiant is at common law _forgery_,\nand ought to entitle the person who makes it to the delicate attention\nof the prosecuting attorney of his county. Whether the saint and\nangel, Miss Bewley, is now aware of the forgery connected with her\nname we know not, but we trust that the Senate will make a note of it\nfor the benefit of future historians. But Spaulding, who is described\nby his co-missionary Gray as \u201cquite impulsive and bitter in his\ndenunciations of a real or supposed enemy,\u201d in endeavoring to make out\na case, is not content with altering one affidavit. That of Mr.\nOsborne (_Ex. Doc. No. 37_, p. 32) is also materially changed in\nseveral places from the original, and the official reports of Mr.\nMcLane (_Ex. Doc._ p. 33) and of Dr. White are doctored in a manner       682\nthat we venture to say would render it difficult for the writers\nthemselves to recognize them. Even the plain statements of _The Murder\nof Dr. Whitman_ are garbled in a most palpable and scandalous manner.\n\nAs to the other auxiliary charges against the Catholic missionaries,\nand the answers of Abernethy and a few others to questions propounded\nby Spaulding, we do not consider them worthy of serious attention.\nThey are all directly or indirectly the creatures of Spaulding\u2019s\nfertile imagination, who, if not crazy as Colonel Gilliam said, has\nallowed his hatred of Catholicity to carry him down to fearful depths\nof crime, to calumny, falsehood, and forgery. His motives are\napparent, the gratification of his lust for revenge, and his hatred of\nour faith; that of the associations who have signed his outrageous\nstatements is the present flourishing existence of the Catholic\nmissions in every part of Oregon; and the end proposed is to compass\ntheir destruction by appealing to the religious prejudices of the\nauthorities at Washington. We have too much confidence in the wisdom\nand good sense of the Executive and Congress to suppose that they will\nbe influenced by such inflammatory appeals--bearing on their face the\npalpable impress of dishonesty and prejudice--and attempts to disturb\nthe good fathers in their labor of love, as well as of hardships and\nsuffering; and we expect soon to hear of those fanatics receiving a\nfitting rebuke in our Senate for attempting to make that august body\nthe vehicle of perpetuating the vilest sort of falsehoods and slanders\nagainst the Catholics of this country.\n\n\n     [130] _Ex. Doc. No._ 37, U. S. Senate, XLIst Cong., IIId\n     Session. 1870-1.\n\n     [131] Victor\u2019s _The River of the West_, p. 400.\n\n     [132] _Works of Stephen Olin_, vol. ii. pp. 427, 428.\n\n     [133] Gray\u2019s _Hist. of Oregon_, pp. 231, 246.\n\n     [134] _History of Oregon._ By G. Hines.\n\n     [135] _Murder of Dr. Whitman_, pp. 23, 24.\n\n     [136] Gray\u2019s _History of Oregon_, p. 235.\n\n     [137] _Murder of Dr. Whitman_, p. 89.\n\n     [138] _Murder of Dr. Whitman_, p. 46.\n\n     [139] _Murder of Dr. Whitman_, pp. 53-55.\n\n     [140] The five Cayuses who were hung in Oregon City, June 3,\n     1850, as accomplices in the massacre, were all Protestants,\n     and remained so till they received their death sentence. All\n     the others who are known as murderers, among whom were\n     Lumsuky, Tamahas, and the two sons of Tilokaikt, were also\n     Protestants. Joseph Stainfield, Jo Davis, and the other\n     half-breed, who, it is said, plundered the dead, if\n     anything, were certainly not Catholics. Three of the\n     condemned on the morning of the execution solemnly declared\n     that the Catholic missionaries had nothing whatever to do\n     with the murder. The following letter to the Bishop of Walla\n     Walla, from the Archbishop of Oregon City, will be found\n     interesting:\n\n                                      OREGON CITY, June 2, 1850.\n     The supposed Cayuse murderers will be executed to-morrow.\n     They have abandoned Dr. Whitman\u2019s religion and have become\n     Catholics. I am preparing them for baptism and for death.\n                                          F. N. BLANCHET,\n                                      Archbishop of Oregon City.\n\n     [141] _Oregon American._\n\n     [142] Letter of R. T. Lockwood to Very Rev. J. B. A.\n     Brouillet, V.G., Sept. 29, 1871.\n\n     [143] Toupin\u2019s statement.\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n                           AFFIRMATIONS.\n\n\n\u201cWhy does man go about organizing systems, when he himself must be\nreorganized?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe thing to be done will not unite the doers.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhen man forgets what he is, he soon is put into a state of uneasiness,\nand made to suffer in pain what was designed for him to be pleasure.\u201d\n\n\u201cWe are always learning the way that heaven acts, but are very shy to\ninvite it to act upon us, and are very unwilling to submit to the\npreparatory process.\u201d\n\n\u201cSelf-improvement by the selfish spirit is the most deceitful of all\ndeceits.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhile you persevere in washing a man\u2019s face with dirty water, it will\nnever be clean; you must get pure water to wash with.\u201d\n\n\u201cA child is a religious being prior to its being an intellectual being;\nand must not be turned away from the divine order.\u201d\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n                    AN AFTERNOON AT ST. LAZARE.                           683\n\n\nWe paid a visit yesterday (Sunday) to St. Lazare, and all that we saw\nand heard there struck us as so interesting, and so entirely different\nfrom our preconceived notions concerning that ill-famed centre of\ncrime and punishment, that we cannot but think our readers will\nlikewise be interested in hearing a detailed and accurate account of\nit.\n\nWe had been told that the famous _p\u00e9troleuse_, charged with the murder\nof Monseigneur Surat, was still there, and we could not resist the\nopportunity offered us by a friend of going to see this extraordinary\ntype of female ferocity--the woman who put a pistol to the prelate\u2019s\nhead, and, when he mildly asked her what he had done to her that she\nshould hate him so, replied: \u201cYou are a priest!\u201d and shot him on the\nspot. On arriving, however, we found that she had left for Versailles\nthe night before. There were still fourteen of her terrible compeers\nremaining out of the four hundred and thirty that had been taken on\nthe barricades and in the general saturnalia of the Commune and locked\nup in St. Lazare.\n\nWe visited the prison from beginning to end. Nothing surprised us so\nmuch as the gentleness of the _r\u00e9gime_, and the absence of all mystery\nor personal restraint in the management of the prisoners. The jail had\nnothing of the repulsive paraphernalia of a prison about it, and but\nfor its massive walls, its vast proportions, and a certain\nindescribable gloom in the atmosphere, inseparable, we suppose, from\nthe mere presence of such a population, one might very well have\nmistaken it for an orphanage or any ordinary asylum conducted by a\nreligious community.\n\nThe _salles_ are magnificently spacious and lofty, with broad, high\nwindows opening on courts; there are four courts--_pr\u00e9aux_ they are\ncalled--one after another, within the precincts of the prison; the\nbeds are like hospital beds; and there was nothing in the dress of the\nwomen, or the manner of the nuns toward them, to tell an uninitiated\nvisitor that they were not patients rather than prisoners and\nmalefactors of the worst kind. There was the same silence brooding\nover the place, the same quiet regularity in all the arrangements, the\nsame supernatural sort of cleanliness that one never sees anywhere but\nin convents. The population of the prison varies from 1,200 to 1,800,\nand the government of these dangerous and desperate subjects is\ncommitted to the sole charge of a community of religious called\n_S\u0153urs de Marie-Joseph_. They are fifty in all. Their dress is black\nserge, with a black veil lined with a light-blue one. They were\nfounded at the close of the last century by a Lyonnese lady, whose\nname the superioress told us, but we forgot it.\n\nIt was just two o\u2019clock when we arrived, and the superioress and\nanother nun gave up assisting at vespers in order to show us over the\nhouse, which from its immense size takes two hours to visit in detail.\nThe prisoners are divided into several categories, and are kept\ndistinctly separate from each other. There are first the\n_Pr\u00e9venues_, who are put in on an accusation which has not been           684\ninvestigated; then the _D\u00e9tenues_, against whom proof is forthcoming,\nand who are awaiting their trial; then there are the _Jug\u00e9es_, of whom\nthe categories are various, as will be seen. These classes are never\nallowed to come in contact, even accidentally, with each other; they\ndo not even meet at meals. Those who are condemned to one year\u2019s\nimprisonment remain at St. Lazare, but if the sentence extends to a\nyear and a day, they are sent off to one of the _Succursales_. When\ntheir term is expired (those who are sentenced to a year only), they\nmay continue at St. Lazare if they choose. Many of them, touched with\ngrace, and sincerely converted from their evil courses, dread going\nback to old scenes and temptations that have proved so fatal to them,\nand beg to be kept as _filles de service_ for the work of the house,\nor in the workshops, etc., and they are never refused. The superioress\nsaid they made very active official servants, and it is very seldom\nthey fall away from their good resolves, and have to be expelled or\npunished. We were passing through one of the passages when a sudden\nnoise of voices from the court made us go to the window and look out.\nWe saw a troop of prisoners pouring out into the yard; they were\nrunning about, laughing and chatting, and apparently enjoying their\nmomentary liberty with the zest of school-boys.\n\n\u201cWho are these, _ma m\u00e8re_?\u201d we inquired.\n\n\u201c_H\u00e9las!_\u201d The exclamation was accompanied by a sufficiently expressive\ngesture.\n\n\u201cThey are generally a very numerous class here,\u201d she explained; \u201cbut\njust now there are but some two hundred of them; the _p\u00e9troleuses_\nwere largely recruited from their ranks, and great numbers of them\nhave been sent on to Versailles.\u201d\n\nSome one asked if these unfortunates were more refractory than the\nother prisoners, thieves, etc.\n\n\u201cAs a rule, they are less so,\u201d replied the nun; \u201cwe hardly ever are\nobliged to have recourse to the _gardiens_ with them, and we have more\nfrequent conversions amongst them than any other class of prisoners.\nThere comes a time to many of them, especially if they have had any\nseeds of religious belief sowed in their minds in childhood, when the\nfuture both of this world and the next comes on them with a sense of\nhorror, and then grace has an easy task with them. I could tell you of\nmiracles wrought in the souls of these poor sinners that would sound\nlike tales out of the lives of the saints, and we have had deathbeds\namong them little short of saintly. But, again, we too often see all\nour efforts fail, and they reject grace with a sort of demoniacal\nobduracy, and go back to their old lives without a moment\u2019s passing\ncompunction: nothing seems to touch them or frighten them.\u201d\n\nWe asked if the nuns were not afraid of them, if they never threatened\nor insulted them.\n\n\u201cOh! never!\u201d replied the superioress emphatically; \u201cthe command we\nhave over them, and the way they yield obedience and respect to us, is\nalmost miraculous. You see these poor outcasts down there; I suppose\nthere is nothing in the world more lost or degraded than they are;\nthey are the lowest specimens of the lowest stratum of vice and every\nspecies of depravity. Well, the youngest nun in the community is as\nsafe in the middle of them as if they were all honest _m\u00e8res de famille_.\nI have been a religious twenty-two years, and out of that ten years at\nSt. Lazare, and I have never known them use an expression to any of       685\nus that called for reprimand.\u201d\n\nWe may add that she said the great majority of these offenders were\ngirls from the provinces, young and inexperienced for the most part,\nand who come to Paris expecting to make their fortune, and unprepared\nfor the temptations awaiting them in this great trap for souls.\n\nWe saw the words _Oratoire Israelite, Oratoire Protestant_, painted\nover two doors, and the latter suggested the inquiry whether there\nwere occasionally any English women amongst the inmates of St. Lazare.\n\n\u201cOh! yes, I am sorry to say we have a good many English,\u201d said the\nmother; and then, shaking her head and smiling, she added: \u201cAnd I am\nsorry to tell you that they are the most unmanageable of all, for they\nare generally given to drink, and when this is the case they are like\nmad-women and we can do nothing with them. A little while ago we had\none who got into such a fearful fit of fury that it was necessary to\nput her in the lock-up; her shrieks were so loud that they were heard\nhalf over the place, and terrified the young _d\u00e9tenues_; toward evening\nshe grew so outrageous that the _gardiens_ were sent to put her into\nthe strait-waistcoat--they are powerful men with strong hands and iron\nnerves, and trained to the work--but she baffled four of them for two\nhours; they were not able to seize or hold her; at last they gave it\nup in despair, and said: It is no use, we must go for _les s\u0153urs_!\nOne of them came to fetch me, and beg me to come or send some one to\nhelp them. He was trembling in every limb, and the perspiration was\npouring from his face as if he had been wrestling with a wild animal.\nI took one of the nuns with me, and we went down to the prison, where\nwe were obliged to spend the whole night with the prisoner, coaxing\nand caressing her, before we got her to calm down and cease\nshrieking.\u201d\n\nWe asked to what class in life the English culprits generally\nbelonged--if they were exclusively of the lowest? The superioress\nsaid, on the contrary, they were often persons very _comme il faut_\nin their manners, and evidently had had an education far above the\nclass of domestic servants--some of them were in fact quite like\nladies; she believed they were mostly governesses, or teachers who\ncome over to Paris in search of situations or lessons, and, not\nfinding either, are driven by hunger and despair to steal, or do\nworse; but theft is generally the offence of the English prisoners.\n\n\u201cSometimes, indeed,\u201d said the superioress, \u201cit makes us laugh to hear\nthe account of the thefts they commit, there is often something so\ncomical in the way they do it, and the cunning and dexterity they\ndisplay are beyond belief; the most accomplished French _filou_ cannot\nhold a candle to them.\u201d\n\nSad as this testimony was, it could not be quite a surprise to any one\nliving in Paris who had seen much of the class of English alluded to,\nbut it will come probably as a new and terrible revelation to many in\nEngland; and if this paper should fall into the hands of any lone,\nfriendless English girl hesitating about coming to Paris to earn her\nbread, the writer prays God she may ponder on the foregoing statement,\nand think twice before embarking on so perilous a venture.\n\nSeveral _salles_ are filled with a class of prisoners called _jeunes\ninsoumises_; they are all very young, some merely children of the day;\nthey are not always actual criminals, sometimes they are only subjects\nwith dangerous propensities beyond the control of parents, and they\nare sent here to be trained to better ways; especial pains are directed   686\nto these juvenile offenders, and the result is often very consoling.\nThe superioress said they had lately had a baby of six years old\nbrought in for stealing. \u201cIt was only a cake that tempted the poor\nlittle mite,\u201d said the mother deprecatingly, \u201cbut she was very naughty\nand unmanageable otherwise, and the parents were glad of a pretext to\nget rid of her for a time.\u201d\n\nIt was not only of such innocent culprits as this that the superioress\nspoke with indulgence, her large-hearted charity took in all the lost\ninhabitants of the dismal abode in which she dwelt and toiled; and\nthere was something unspeakably touching in the way she every now and\nthen seemed to try as it were to excuse the worst among them, to plead\nfor them indirectly by showing up any remnant of good in them. We met\nthe women we mentioned our seeing out at recreation on their way along\na corridor; they walked singly, with their arms crossed; we were quite\nclose to them as they passed us; and anything more ignoble than their\nfeatures it would be difficult to conceive--the expression of the\nfaces was scarcely human; they resembled vicious animals in human\nshape rather than women. This struck us all so forcibly that we could\nnot help making the remark to the superioress. She seemed positively\nhurt, as if we had said something personally unkind to her, and, on my\nexpressing some pagan surprise at it, she broke out into such a tender\npleading for \u201cthose dear souls whom our Lord longs for and that cost\nhim so dear\u201d that, though I felt thoroughly rebuked, I could not be\nsorry for having called out her protest. It was like having laid one\u2019s\nhand roughly and unawares on a vibrating instrument that sent out a\nstrain of heavenly music.\n\n\u201cOh!\u201d she continued, with such a look as I shall never forget, \u201cif we\nonly knew what the value of a soul is, how precious it is in the eyes\nof God, we would never look with disgust at the poor wretched body\nthat holds it; but I assure you when one comes near to those poor\nsinners the disgust soon wears off, and we think of nothing but their\nsouls, their precious, immortal souls, that were bought at such a\nprice!\u201d\n\nThe more we listened to her and observed her, the less surprised we\nwere at the universal respect, worship I might almost call it, that\ngreeted her presence everywhere--it was so spontaneous and so free\nfrom anything like fear or servility. As soon as she appeared at the\ndoor of a work-room, or a class, or a dormitory, the prisoners rose\nimmediately to salute her; and several times I noticed some of them\nmake signs to others who were not looking, or touch them on the\nshoulder, to stand up and welcome the mother. She generally said a\nword to them _en passant_: \u201cGood-morning, my children! Are you behaving\nwell?\u201d etc., and then there was a ripple of curtsies and a perfect\nclamor of \u201cYes, mother, thank you!\u201d and the hard, bad faces would\nbrighten for one moment with a smile.\n\nThe influence of the nuns with the prisoners is indeed little less\nthan a permanent miracle, Among other instances of it, the superioress\ntold us the following: \u201cA desperate woman, charged with misdemeanors\nof the worst kind, was brought to the prison. She was the daughter of\na butcher, and,\u201d added the superioress, laughing, \u201cI beg you to\nbelieve that her manners were just what might have been expected.\u201d A\nfew days after her arrival she broke out into a fit of mad fury, and\nthe _gardiens_ had to be sent for to take her to the _cachot_; but as\nsoon as she saw them enter the _salle_, she drew a huge pair of scissors  687\nfrom her pocket--how she came by it we never discovered--and, holding\nit open and pointed at them with one hand, she beckoned them with the\nother to come on, yelling all the while like a raging lioness. The men\ntried to terrify her, to dodge her, but it was all useless, she\nbaffled every attempt to seize her. They gave it up as hopeless, and\ncame for me. She no sooner saw me than she cried out: \u2018Send them away,\nand I will go with you; but I will never move a foot with these men!\u2019\nI sent them away, and told her to give me the scissors; she gave it at\nonce, and then I took her by the hand and led her off without a word.\n\n\u201cOn another occasion, one section of prisoners got up a scheme for\nkilling the _gardiens_. They were to tie their wooden _sabots_ into\nclusters of eight together, and when the _gardiens_ came to convey\nsome refractory subject to the _cachot_, the others were to fling\nseveral batches of these formidable missiles at their heads. The\neffect must have been fatal, but fortunately there was some delay in\nthe appearance of the _gardiens_, and the prisoners, having all ready,\ngrew impatient, and at last, losing all control, they began to yell\nand call out for them and brandish their _sabots_ furiously. The nun\nwho was in waiting ran down to warn the _gardiens_ not to come up, and\nthen came to tell me what had happened, and to consult about sending\nfor the soldiers, who are always ready at the _poste_ outside the\nprison; the _gardiens_ were frightened, and advised this being done. I\nthought, however, the storm would subside without having recourse to\nsuch an extreme measure. I was not the least afraid of the women\npersonally; I knew they would never lay a finger on one of _us_,\nwhatever their fury might be, so I walked into the midst of them.\n\n\u201c\u2018What is this row about?\u2019 I said. \u2018I am ashamed of you; let me hear\nno more of it.\u2019 Then taking the ringleader--we always know the one to\npitch upon--I told her I must put her in prison; she made no\nresistance, only stipulating that the _gardiens_ were not to touch\nher.\u201d\n\n\u201cAre the _gardiens_ cruel to them that they hate them so much?\u201d I\nasked.\n\n\u201cNo, never,\u201d she answered; \u201cthey have no opportunity for it if they\nfelt so inclined; but they represent strength and justice, whereas the\nnuns represent only weakness and pity; the prisoners resent the one,\nbut not the other.\u201d\n\nSome one asked the superioress if she had ever known a conspiracy\nattempted to kill or hurt any of the sisters. She replied never, on\nwhich we related to her an episode of the Roman prisons, told us\nrecently by the Papal Nuncio. The female prisons in Rome are, like St.\nLazare, conducted entirely by nuns, without even the moral support of\na _poste_ at the gates to enforce their authority. One day a plot was\norganized for doing away with the nuns and making their own escape\nfrom the prison. The prisoners were sixty in number and the nuns\ntwelve, so the scheme offered little serious difficulty. It was agreed\nthat on a certain day when all the community were assembled with the\nprisoners in the workroom, the latter were to seize the nuns and fling\nthem out of the windows into the yard. The signal agreed upon was the\nclose of the work-hour, when the superioress clapped her hands for\nthem to put aside their work. The secret was so well kept that not a\nhint transpired, but the superioress felt instinctively there was\nsomething abnormal brewing. She had no apprehension at the moment,        688\nhowever, and gave the signal as usual when the clock struck the hour.\nNo one moved. She repeated it. Still no one stirred. She gave it a\nthird time more emphatically, and then the leader of the band walked\nstraight up to her and struck her a blow on the face. The meek\ndisciple of Jesus quietly knelt down, turned the other cheek, and\nsaid:\n\n\u201cIf I have done you any harm, tell me so, but if not, why do you\nstrike me?\u201d\n\nThe woman fell upon her knees, burst into tears, and confessed\neverything. When the superioress had heard her to the end, she said:\n\n\u201cNow, my daughter, I must take you to the dungeon; you know this is my\nduty.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, mother, I know it is,\u201d and she gave her hand, and let herself be\nled away as meekly as a lamb.\n\nHow omnipotent is the power of love, and how lovely this world would\nbe if love were allowed to rule over it everywhere!\n\nBefore we had finished our inspection of the house, we went to\nbenediction in the prison chapel. There was a short sermon first on\nthe gospel of the day. About eight hundred of the prisoners were\npresent. Some were yawning, and evidently only there because they\ncould not help themselves, others assisted with edifying devotion, but\nall were respectful in their attitude and demeanor. The organ was\nplayed by one of the nuns, and the choir, was formed of prisoners from\nthe class already alluded to. The singing was not very scientific, but\nit struck us all as peculiarly touching, the more so, no doubt, from\nthe associations connected unconsciously with the choristers. The\nsuperioress said it was looked upon as a great privilege to sing in\nthe choir, and it is held out as a reward for sustained efforts and\ngood conduct. As we saw the little altar lighted up, and the golden\nrays of the monstrance shining down upon the singular congregation,\none could not but think what a grand and beautiful manifestation of\nredeeming love it was, this presence of the God of holiness, a willing\nprisoner in such a temple. There were the Sisters of Marie-Joseph,\nwomen of the purest, most unblemished lives, self-devoted victims to\nthe God who died on Calvary for outcasts and sinners, kneeling side by\nside in unloathing sisterhood with the vilest offscourings of this\ngreat Babylon. A sight wonderful beyond all human understanding if the\nmystery were not explained to us by the voice from out the little\ncrystal prison-house: \u201cI came to seek sinners, and to dwell with\nthem.... And whatsoever you do to the least of these, you do likewise\nto me.... And there is more joy in heaven for the return of one sinner\nthan for ninety-nine of the just.\u201d\n\nAnd many are the joys given to him and his saints by the inmates of\nthis great emporium of sinners. Last All Saints\u2019 day five hundred of\nthe prisoners approached the sacraments, some in the most admirably\npenitent spirit, but all of their own free will, and for the moment at\nleast with hearts touched by grace and turned away from evil. They\nwere prepared for the feast by a retreat of eight days, preached by a\nMarist father.\n\nAfter benediction we resumed our inspection, and came finally to the\n_p\u00e9troleuses_. There was nothing in the room where they were, or their\nsurroundings, to distinguish them from the other prisoners, and if the\nsuperioress had not whispered to us as we were entering the dormitory\nthat these were the women, we should never have suspected the bright,\norderly room to be the den of wild beasts it was. An American lady who    689\nwas of our party amused the nuns by asking repeatedly: \u201cBut where are\nthe wicked ones?\u201d She could not persuade herself--and indeed it was\ndifficult--that the hundreds of women we saw so gently ruled, and held\nas it were with silken cords, were the most dangerous and abandoned\ncharacters of the metropolis. The fourteen _p\u00e9troleuses_ were not\ndressed in the prison livery, but wore their own clothes: some of them\nwere very spruce and comfortable, but all were tidy and clean--none of\nthem had a poverty-stricken look. They were nearly all of them\nstanding in sullen silence beside their beds; one woman was dandling a\nbaby, a white-faced, shrivelled little object, tricked out in a fine\nblue frock with little flounces. We think we said there had been four\nhundred and thirty of these _p\u00e9troleuses_ in the prison. The superioress\nsaid they had behaved very well there, and never once obliged the\nsoldiers to interfere. They were cold-blooded, defiant creatures, but\nthis was not their sphere of action; they bore no ill-will to the\nsisters; quite the contrary, many shed tears on going away. They fell\ninto the discipline of the prison with great docility as to hours and\nrules, and seldom broke silence. On one point only they were\nintractable--they would not work.\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s bad enough to be conquered and butchered by Versailles,\u201d they\nwould answer, \u201cbut we are not going to work for them.\u201d And neither\nthreats nor entreaties could induce them to take a needle in their\nhand, or to sit down to a sewing-machine. It was no use explaining to\nthem that they would not be working for Versailles, that they would\nwork for themselves, and might buy extra food at the _cantine_ with\ntheir day\u2019s earnings; no, they got it into their heads that Versailles\nwould in some way or other be the better for their working, and\nnothing could get it out of them. The very name of Versailles used to\nrouse them to fury; it was like a red rag to a bull. They boasted of\ntheir exploits during the Commune as things to glory in. One swore she\nhad set fire to five buildings, and her only regret was that she had\nbeen too late to set fire to St. Lazare. Many of her companions\nexpressed the same regret with quiet effrontery, that would have been\namusing if it had not been so appalling. Every one of them declared\nthat if it were to begin over again, they would do just the same, only\nbetter, _because now they had more experience_.\n\n\u201cAnd what is your opinion, _ma m\u00e8re_?\u201d we said; \u201cdo you think it will\nbegin again, and that the _p\u00e9troleuses_ are still in existence, or was\nit a type born with the Commune, and passed away with it?\u201d\n\nShe replied unhesitatingly that she believed it would begin again, and\nthat the _p\u00e9troleuses_ would come out in greater force than ever; that\nthey were neither daunted nor disarmed by the failure of the Commune,\nbut rather infuriated by defeat, and more resolute and reckless than\nbefore--reckless to a degree that only bad women can be, and ready to\nstake body and soul on their revenge. She said that the conduct of\nVersailles was weak and ill-judged beyond her comprehension; that they\nhad far better have left these women free at once on the plea that\nthey were women, if they did not mean to deal out their deserts to\nthem; but now these desperate creatures were exasperated by\nincarceration, and by a mockery of a trial that either liberated them\nor sentenced them to a punishment they knew perfectly well the            690\ngovernment did not mean to carry out. It was like letting loose so\nmany bloodhounds on France to set these women at large again.\n\n\u201cWe have seen them _de pr\u00e8s_,\u201d continued the superioress, \u201cand we are\none and all convinced that the next attempt will be worse than the\nfirst; we have terrible days in store--the _p\u00e9troleuses_ have not said\ntheir last word.\u201d\n\nSpeaking of the Commune led to our asking about her own experiences\nunder it. It appears that the employees at St. Lazare, the director,\ninspector-general, and their assistants, were among the first turned\nout, and agents of the H\u00f4tel de Ville installed in their places. The\nfirst thing these guardians of public justice did was to set free\none-half of the population, such as were available for the public\nservices; and able servants they proved themselves on the barricades\nand as incendiaries. To account for and in some measure palliate the\nsuperhuman ferocity displayed by the women of the Commune, we may as\nwell mention here a fact not generally known, and which was told to us\nby a distinguished medical man, who was here all through that terrible\nsaturnalia, and by a Sister of Charity, who could also speak from\npersonal knowledge. It would seem that the snuff dealt out to the\npeople from the government manufactories was mixed in large\nproportions with gunpowder. The effect of this ingredient, taken in\nvery small quantities, is to excite the brain abnormally, but taken in\nlarge ones it brings on a kind of savage delirium tremens. The wine\ndistributed to the _p\u00e9troleuses_ on the barricades and elsewhere was\nalso heavily charged with some such element of madness. It seems to us\nthat it is rather a consolation to hear this, for though it reveals a\ndiabolical instinct of soul-hatred in the few, it explains, on the\nother hand, how it was that occasionally we saw young and hitherto\nmild, inoffensive women suddenly transformed into demons.\n\nThe superioress said that for the first three weeks that the nuns did\nduty for the Commune, nothing could exceed the respect and\nconsideration they received from them.\n\n\u201cThey were as docile as little girls to us,\u201d she said, \u201cand never did\nanything without coming to consult us. The _inspecteur-general_ named\nby the Commune happened to have formerly been a clerk at the prison.\nMy surprise when I saw him in his new character, and with such\ncredentials, was great; but he seemed himself very much ashamed, and\nwhen I asked him what had induced him to join the Commune, he replied\nthat it was really devotion to the nuns; he had accepted the office\nbecause he knew we would want a protector, and he preferred being on\nthe spot to watch over us. It was not laughing matter, or I could have\nlaughed at his audacity. And he actually pleaded this argument on his\ntrial at Versailles, and was acquitted on it! He had always been a\nwell-conducted, honest man, and I am not sure but in the bottom of his\nheart this good intention toward us may not have been mixed up with a\ngreat many other less worthy ones. During all the time he was in\nconstant communication with me, he never had the courage once to raise\nhis eyes to my face. He told us a good deal about what was going on\noutside, and especially what the women were doing. He spoke in\nenthusiastic praise of their spirit and courage. He said the fort of\nMontrouge was lost one day but for a girl of seventeen, who, seeing\nthe soldiers demoralized, and the gunners abandoning their guns and\nturning to fly, rushed up to one of them, and seized a light and put      691\nit to the cannon, and so mocked the cowards, and taunted them all with\ncowardice and want of mettle, that she rallied every man of them and\nsaved the place. But for this Versailles would have taken it. Ten\nminutes later, and the defence was abandoned. \u2018Had it not been for\nthis plucky little _diablesse_, we were lost!\u2019 he exclaimed. Such\ntraits as this prepared us for the _p\u00e9troleuses_ of a few weeks later,\nbut he only saw patriotism and valor in them.\u201d\n\nThings went on very amicably between the gentlemen of the Commune and\nthe sisters for three weeks. Then a change came over them. They were\nnot openly rude, but there was what the superioress described as\nrestrained fury in their manner toward the nuns, and the latter felt\nthat the blood-fever was rising in them, and that they would soon\nbreak out into open mutiny. The superioress felt this more strongly\nthan the rest, and she was sorely perplexed how to get her flock out\nof the way of the wolves while it was yet time. It was no easy matter,\nfor, as she quaintly said, \u201cOne cannot send off fifty religious like\nfifty pins, in a box by mail,\u201d and in the present state of mind of the\nCommunists, to awake suspicion was to have the whole community seized\nand locked up forthwith. The first thing to be done was to procure\npermission from the H\u00f4tel de Ville. She had been obliged to go of late\nseveral times to the prefecture on one business or another connected\nwith her functions in the prison, so the authorities there knew her,\nand had always treated her with marked civility. She said that the\nfirst time she went there the faces of the so-called officials struck\nher as demoniacal, they were all of them half-drunk--men taken from\nthe gutters of Belleville and Villette to fill offices of whose\ncommonest outward forms they had no idea, yet they were as deferential\nto herself and the nun who accompanied her as so many priests might\nhave been. This did not prevent her saying to her companion as soon as\nthey were alone: \u201cWell, if we did not believe in hell, the faces we\nhave seen to-day would have revealed it to us.\u201d\n\nShe applied for a permission to leave, and got it without any\ndifficulty. She kept it in her pocket all that day, and the next\nmorning she seemed to hear a voice saying to her interiorly: _Now is\nthe moment_; send them off! The exodus was planned well, and carried\nout so discreetly, the nuns going in threes and fours at a time, that\nnot a shadow of suspicion dawned on the employees--their jailers as\nthey now considered them. All that day the superioress kept constantly\nwith them, never letting them lose sight of her for a quarter of an\nhour at a time, coming and going perpetually, and making future\narrangements for one thing or another, so as to put them more\ncompletely off the scent. It was only when evening came and there were\nbut eight nuns in the house besides herself, that the flight was\ndiscovered. The rage of the director was undisguised. But if he could\nnot catch the fugitives, he could revenge himself on the devoted ones\nwho had shielded their flight at the peril of their own lives. The\nsuperioress was at work in the midst of the little remnant of her\nflock, when he rushed into the room, pistol in hand. A few words\npassed between them, angry on his part, calm and resolute on hers,\nthen with an oath he left the room abruptly.\n\n\u201cI knew as well as if he had told me,\u201d she said, \u201cthat he was gone to\nsee if there was a vacant cell to put me in. I did not feel\nterrified--God gives such strong graces in moments like that!--but I      692\nfelt the same kind of internal voice saying to me: Now is your time;\ntake the others and fly!\n\n\u201cWe hurried down the stairs just as we were and went out. We turned to\nthe left, and walked on as fast as we could, without running, toward\nthe _Gare du Nord_. We could hardly have turned the corner of the\nstreet when the director was in pursuit of us. _Les D\u00e9tenues_, who\nsaw us leave the house and take to the left, called out to him: To the\nright, citoyen! They are not forty yards ahead! He followed the\ndirection, and this saved us. We reached the station just as the train\nwas about to move. The guards saw us coming, and cried out to us to\nmake haste and jump in. \u2018But our tickets! We have not taken them!\u2019 I\nsaid.\n\n\u201c\u2018Never mind, jump in! You will pay at the other end,\u2019 and they\nhustled us into the nearest carriage. We had not seated ourselves when\nthe director appeared on the platform pistol in hand, and crying out\nfrantically to the train to stop. But it moved on, and landed us\nsafely at Argenteuil.\u201d\n\nA few days after the _S\u0153urs Marie-Joseph_ had cleared out from St.\nLazare, the nuns of Picpus were taken there. This the superioress\nthought was one reason why the officials were anxious to get them out\nof their way; they meant to put the others there, and they did not\nwant any inconvenient witnesses of their own proceedings.\n\nWhen we had seen all that was to be seen in the vast building, the\nsuperioress took us to the private chapel of the community. It was\nformerly the cell of St. Vincent of Paul, that is to say, the space\noccupied by the sanctuary; the altar stands where his little bed used\nto be, and the window step is worn away by the pressure of his feet,\nwhen his increasing infirmities obliged him to have recourse to the\nsolace of a footstool. The prison itself was formerly a Lazarist\nmonastery; the refectory is exactly as it was in the time of St.\nVincent, unchanged in all except its occupants; and the great, sombre\ncorridors echoed for twenty years to the footsteps of the sweet\napostle of charity. His memory is held in great veneration throughout\nthe prison, and the population speak of him with a sort of rough,\nfilial affectionateness that, the nuns told us, is often very\ntouching; they seem to look on him as a friend who ought to stand by\nthem.\n\nI had nearly forgotten one incident in our visit that had a peculiar\nbeauty of its own. We were passing by the open door of what seemed an\ninfirmary; all the beds were occupied, and there were several nuns\nsitting in the room, when one of them ran out and said:\n\n\u201cOh! _ma m\u00e8re_, you will not pass without coming to say _bonjour_ to\nour old women. Ever since they heard you were showing the house, they\nhave been watching for you.\u201d\n\nThe superioress said it was late, and she really had not time just\nnow, but the nuns begged harder, and said that the old women knew she\nwas going into retreat that evening, so they would not see her for\neight days, and the old women, seeing they were in danger of being\nrefused, began to cry out so piteously that the mother, asking us if\nwe would not mind walking down the ward, yielded, and we went in.\nThese old women are all infirm and incurable, and have been sent as\nsuch from one hospital or another to St. Lazare. Their delight when\nthe superioress came in and spoke a word to each was almost rapturous.\nI stood to speak to one old soul, but instead of detailing her own\naches and pains after the usual manner of those dear, blessed,\ngarrulous poor people, she burst out confidentially into ecstatic         693\npraises of _notre m\u00e8re_--how sweet and kind she was, and how she loved\nthem all, and what she did for them, and what an angel she was\naltogether, \u201cas indeed all the good sisters were,\u201d the good soul made\nhaste to assure us. We found, on comparing notes with our friends,\nthat those to whom they spoke had improved the opportunity in the same\nway. It seemed quite a treat to them to find an audience for their\ngrateful praises of the _S\u0153urs_. Indeed, as far as our view of them\nwent, the Sisters of Marie-Joseph fully justify the love they receive\nso plentifully. The superioress is what the French would call _une\nma\u00eetresse femme_, a combination of energy and gentleness, with a\ncertain frank brightness of manner that is very winning to a stranger,\nand must be a great help, independent of stronger agencies, in\nenabling her to win the confidence and disarm the rebellious spirit of\nthe women she has to deal with. It was wonderful to watch her as she\npassed on from _salle_ to _salle_, saying just the right little word\nto all of them, and bringing a smile on all the faces, old and young,\ngood and bad. Her manner, while it was perfectly simple and familiar,\nnever lost its dignity; but there was not the faintest shadow of that\nspirit which too often hinders the salutary influence of virtue over\nvice--keep off; for I am holier than you! With these infirm old women\nshe was affectionate and caressing as a mother, petting them like\nchildren, and encouraging their fearless familiarity toward herself.\nThey had been here all through the Commune, they told us, and\nwitnessed from their windows--the infirmary is on the ground\nfloor--all the scenes enacted in the court by _ces dames_, as they\nmockingly styled them, who had come to replace the _S\u0153urs_. But the\nworst of that terrible interval to them was the terror they were in of\nbeing burnt to death. They saw the flames rising on all sides from the\nconflagrations in the neighborhood of St. Lazare, and they were in\nmomentary expectation of seeing the prison itself fired. The doors\nwere opened for them to fly, but \u201c_\u00e0 quoi bon, puisque nous n\u2019avions\npas de jambes pour fuir?_\u201d they observed jocosely. This was the last\n_salle_ we saw. Before the superioress took leave of the incurables,\nshe asked them to pray for the nuns during their retreat, which was to\nbegin that evening. They promised in chorus that they would, and one\nsaid: \u201cWe will offer up all our suffering this week for the good\nsisters,\u201d and all the others pledged themselves to do the same.\n\nSo ended our visit to St. Lazare. It was a sad and yet an unutterably\nconsoling one. We hear a great deal about the atheism and immorality\nand wickedness of Paris--and God knows there is plenty of them--but\nthere is much also that is bright and pure and beautiful mixed up with\nthe bad, if only we looked for it and proclaimed it. We would find the\npearls of purity, and the rubies of charity, and the emeralds of hope,\nand the salt of the Holy Spirit, scattered everywhere amidst the\ngeneral corruption, healing and redeeming it.\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n                THE INTERNATIONAL ASSOCIATION [144]                       694\n\n\nThe Labor Question has become one of the most formidable\nquestions--perhaps the most formidable question--of the day; and the\nworst feature of the question is that, though it has been looming up\nin the distance for nearly a century, and constantly coming nearer and\nnearer, and more and more pressing for a solution, the statesmen,\nreformers, and philanthropists of no country seem to know what answer\nto give it, or how to treat it. There is no lack of nostrums, and\nevery petty politician is ready with his \u201cMorrison pill\u201d; but no one\ngives a satisfactory diagnosis of the case, and the remedies offered\nor applied have served thus far only to aggravate the symptoms of the\ndisease.\n\nThere is a very general conviction among the workingmen themselves\nthat, in the distribution of the joint products of capital and labor,\ncapital gets the lion\u2019s share. Capitalists, or they who can command\ncapital or its substitute, credit, grow rich, become millionaires,\nfrom the profits of the labor they employ, while the laborer himself,\nwith the most rigid economy and frugality, can barely keep soul and\nbody together, and not always even that. Yet, if we look at the\nmillions deposited by the laboring classes in our savings-banks, and\nthe large sums collected from them for eleemosynary and other purposes\nnot necessarily included in the expenses of living, this statement seems\nexaggerated. Then, too, the majority of the millionaires with\nus, and, perhaps, in England and France, began life as workmen, or, at\nleast, without capital and with very little credit.\n\nIt is not easy to say precisely what the special grievances of the\nworkingmen are, at least in our country, since comparatively few of\nthe wealthy or easy classes of to-day inherited their wealth, or had\nto start with any appreciable advantages, pecuniary, educational, or\nsocial, over their compeers who have remained in the proletarian\nclass. The International Association of Workingmen do not tell us very\ndistinctly what their special grievances are, nor can we gather them\nfrom the eloquent lecture of their mouthpiece, Mr. Wendell Phillips,\nthe candidate of the labor unions of Massachusetts for governor of\nthat state. The evils he complains of, if evils, grow out of what is\ncalled \u201cmodern civilization,\u201d and seem to us to be inseparable from\nit. This is also clearly his opinion, and _The Dublin Review_ shows\nthat it is the view taken by the Internationals in England and France.\nMr. Phillips says:\n\n     \u201cModern civilization is grand in seeming large and generous in\n     some of its results, but, at the same time, hidden within are\n     ulcers that confront social science and leave it aghast. The\n     students of social science, in every meeting that gathers itself,\n     in every debate and discussion, confess themselves at their wits\u2019\n     end in dealing with the great social evils of the day. Nobody\n     that looks into the subject but recognizes the fact that the\n     disease is very grave and deep; the superficial observer does not\n     know the leak in the very body of the ship, but the captain and      695\n     crew are suffering the anticipation of approaching ruin.\n     Gentlemen, I am not here with the vain dream that we shall ever\n     abolish poverty. My creed of human nature is too bitter for that.\n     There will always be men that drink, and as long as there are\n     such, there will always be poor men--shiftless men. There are\n     always half-made men--nobody knows why they were born.\n\n     \u201cIs civilization a failure? Stretch out your gaze over all the\n     civilized world. There are, perhaps, in Christendom two or three\n     hundred millions of people, and one-half of them never have\n     enough to eat. And even in this country one-half of the people\n     have never had enough of mental food. All over the world one-half\n     of Christendom starves either bodily or mentally. That is no\n     exaggeration. You may go to France or England, and find a million\n     of men that never saw meat once a year. Take your city, and go\n     down into the very slums of existence, where human beings by the\n     thousands live year in and year out in dwellings which no man in\n     Fifth Avenue would trust his horses in for twelve hours. I will\n     take the great social spectre that confronts social science the\n     world over--prostitution, the social ulcer that eats into the\n     nineteenth century. And everybody who studies the subject will\n     confess that the great root from which it grows is that the\n     poverty of one class makes it the victim of the wealth of\n     another. Give woman her fair chance in her own fields of\n     enterprise, and ninety-nine out of a hundred will disdain to buy\n     diamonds and velvets with the wages of shame. Give man his fair\n     chance in the world of labor and enterprise, and ninety-nine out\n     of a hundred men will disdain to steal. The grog-shops of the\n     great cities have always appointed the municipalities as their\n     own standing, committees. And this is at once the cause and\n     effect of the poverty of the masses. I have known men who were\n     intemperate in Boston cured by being sent to Paris. Why? Because\n     in the brighter life, the more generous stimulant, the great\n     variety of interest in the European capital, he found something\n     that called out his nobler nature, starved out his appetites. So\n     it is with the intemperance of a nation; and to cure it, you must\n     supplement their life with the stimulus of the soul. Why is it\n     that three-fourths of the criminals are of the poorer classes?\n     Why do the students of crime tell you that when you have taken\n     out about fifteen per cent. of the criminals, consisting of the\n     enterprising, energetic, and intelligent, the rest are below par\n     bodily and mentally? Because they are the children, grandchildren,\n     or great-grandchildren of persons who were bodily and mentally\n     weak. Out of these weak ones the devil selects his best tools.\n     Feed that class better, and you will empty your prisons.\u201d\n\nThis plainly enough attributes the evils the workingmen seek to remedy\nto modern civilization, which enables the few to become rich and\nleaves the many poor, destitute, festering in ignorance and vice. M.\nDesmoulins, in his _Apology for the Internationals_, as quoted by _The\nDublin Review_, says: \u201cThe Parisian Red, far from being out of the\npale of human nature, is only a spontaneous product of what is\npompously styled modern civilization--a civilization that, resting to\nthis hour on war between nation and nation, town and town, farm and\nfarm, men and men, is still in many respects sheer barbarism.\u201d As far\nas we are able to collect the views of the Association, it attributes\nthe undefined grievances of the proletarian class to no one specific\ncause, but to modern civilization in general. In this, if the\nworkingmen confine their objection to material civilization--the only\ncivilization the age boasts or recognizes--we are not disposed to\nquarrel with them. Yet we all remember the outcry raised in all\nclasses of society and from all quarters against the Holy Father,\nbecause he refused to form an alliance of the church with modern\ncivilization, and for his supposed condemnation of it in the Syllabus.\nThe International Association of Workingmen, whose members are spread\nover nearly the whole world, and are numbered by millions, is a vast      696\norganized revolt against this boasted civilization of this nineteenth\ncentury. And so far it is not wholly without excuse, and even much may\nbe said in its defence, though their proposed substitute for it may be\nutterly indefensible.\n\nModern material civilization, dating from the Peace of Utrecht in\n1713, and more especially from the accession of the House of Hanover\nto the English throne, and the accession to power in England of\nwhat in the time of Swift and Addison was called the Urban\nparty--money-changers, bankers, traders, merchants, and\nmanufacturers--has been based on capital employed in trade and\nindustry, in opposition to capital invested in land and agriculture.\nIt is a shopkeeping and manufacturing and maritime civilization,\nessentially and eminently a burgher civilization, and resulting\nespecially in the burgher class, or, as the French say, the\n_bourgeoisie_. A civilization based on material interests, and\nproposing the multiplication and amassing of material goods,\nnecessarily produces the state of things which excites the opposition\nof Mr. Phillips and the Internationals. It creates necessarily an\nantagonism between the interests of capital and labor, and therefore\nbetween the employers, as representatives of capital, and the\nemployed, or workmen. The interest of capital is to get labor at as\nlow a rate of wages as possible; the interest of labor is to get as\nhigh a rate of wages as possible. This antagonism is inevitable.\n\nEmployers in vain pretend that the interests of capital and labor are\nthe same. They are not so under a civilization based on Mammon, or\nunder a civilization that seeks only the advancement of material\ninterests, and invests capital only for the sake of material profit.\nIn the struggle, the stronger party, under a material system, is\nalways sure to succeed. And this is always the party of capital; for\nlabor seeks employment to live--capital, for profit or gain; and the\ncapitalist can forego profit more easily than labor can forego\nemployment, since to live is more urgent than to gain. This secures\nthe advantage always to the capitalist. The inequality which\nnecessarily results cannot be overcome by equality of suffrage, or the\nextension of suffrage to the proletarian class, as politicians\npretend; for, though numbers may triumph at the polls, the stronger\ninterest, as our American experience proves, is sure to carry the\nvictory in the halls of legislation. \u201cThe stronger interest in a\ncountry,\u201d said Mr. Calhoun to the writer, \u201calways in the long run\nwields the power of the country.\u201d\n\nUniversal suffrage, which was defended on the ground that it would\ntend to protect labor against capital, has in fact a contrary\ntendency, and in practice almost invariably favors capital. The whole\nof our legislation--which so favors capital or its substitute, credit,\nor which mortgages the future for the present, and makes debt supply\nthe place of capital, covers the towns with money or business\ncorporations, and builds up huge monopolies--has grown up under a\nsystem of universal suffrage. In an age and country where material\ninterests predominate, what the people, capitalists or proletarians,\nask of government is, laws that facilitate the acquisition of wealth;\nbut when such laws are enacted, not more than one man in a hundred can\navail himself of the facilities they afford.\n\nThe great scientific discoveries of which we boast, and which have\nwrought such marvellous changes in our modern industrial world, were,\nas to their principles, made in a less material age than the present,     697\nbefore the modern burgher civilization was fairly inaugurated; but\ntheir application to the mechanic arts, to production and\ntransportation, whether by sea or land, has been made since, and\nchiefly within the last one hundred years. The introduction of\nlabor-saving machinery has, to an extent not easily estimated,\nsuperseded human labor, broken up the small domestic industries, as\ncarding, spinning, and weaving, carried on in the bosom of the family,\nand securing it a modest independence, and small farming, carried on\nchiefly by the father and his sons, and built up in their place large\nindustries and large farming, beyond the reach of people of no means\nor small means but their labor, and in which human labor is employed\nonly in the form of labor at wages. The introduction of machinery, or\nthe working of mills or farms by machinery driven by steam or by\nhorse-power, requires capital, or an outlay possible only to large\ncapital or combinations of small capital. Take, for instance, the\nsteam carder, spinner, and weaver; the mule, jenny, and power-loom;\nthe patent mower, reaper, and horse-rake; threshing and winnowing\nmachines--hardly any of them heard of or only beginning to be heard of\nin our own boyhood, at least in this country; take the railway and the\nlocomotive--and you can easily see that modern industry, and in a\nmeasure even agriculture, fall necessarily into the hands of large\ncapitalists, individual or corporate, and cannot be prosecuted on a\nsmall scale, at least profitably. We have corporations for condensing\nmilk and making butter and cheese, regardless of our youthful friend\nthe dairymaid, and for supplying us with ice. Perhaps nothing has\ntended so much to enlarge the inequality between capital and labor as\nthe introduction of labor-saving machinery in nearly all branches of\nindustry.\n\nWe do not make war on labor-saving machinery, which, we have heard it\nsaid, increases the power of capital six hundred million fold, though\nthat seems to us hardly credible. We could not now do well without it.\nWe could not well dispense with our cotton and woollen factories, and\ngo back to the hand-cards, and spinning-wheel, and hand-loom which, in\nour own boyhood, were in every farmer\u2019s house; but we cannot forget\nthat the independence of the laborer--now a laborer at wages, and\nobliged to make cash payments for what he consumes--has gone with them\nto the advantage of the capitalist. We could not well dispense with\nrailways, and yet there is no denying that they are monopolies, that\nlabor cannot compete with them, and that they impose a heavy tax on\nlabor. They also tend to convert the independent laborer into a\nworkman at wages, and the freeman into the slave of machinery, to\nenrich a few railway presidents and directors, and stock-jobbers.\nThen, those great corporations, without souls, are not only stronger\nthan the laborer, but stronger than the government. No great feudal\nlords in France or England were ever more formidable to the crown than\nsuch corporations as the Pennsylvania Central, the New York Central,\nthe Union Pacific, with our National Bank system, are to the\ngovernment, state or general. Neither state legislatures nor Congress\ncan control them, and they have already made both simply their factor\nor agent.\n\nThere is a truth which cannot be denied expressed in the following\nparagraph from Mr. Phillips\u2019 lecture:\n\n     \u201cNow, look at it. You say, why do you find fault with                698\n     civilization? Tonight is a cold night, and you will go home to\n     parlors and chambers warmed with the coal of Pennsylvania. Why\n     don\u2019t you have it here for $3 and $4 a ton? Why don\u2019t you have it\n     here at an advance of $1 or $2 over what it is sold for at the\n     mouth of the pit? Because of the gigantic corporations and vast\n     organizations of wealth. The capitalists gather three or four\n     millions of tons in your city--sell it when they please, at such\n     rates as they please, and the poor man struggling for his bread\n     is the sufferer. A rich man is careful; he won\u2019t put his foot in\n     any further than allows of its being pulled back. If he heard a\n     groan coming from the people at something he did, he would\n     withdraw his investment, for nothing is more timid than wealth.\n     But let that man take $100,000 or so and put it in with nine\n     others, and make a capital of $1,000,000; then he is as bold as\n     Julius C\u00e6sar. He will starve out 13,000 coal miners. The London\n     _Spectator_ says that the colossal strength of Britain has reason\n     to dread the jointure of $456,000,000 of railroad capital. How\n     much more should America have reason to dread such combinations,\n     when Britain has more than ten times our wealth!\u201d\n\nYet is there not some compensation to the proletarian class in the\nvery system which tends so fearfully to increase their numbers and\ndependence? Grant that coal might be delivered from the mines in\nPennsylvania in this city at $3 a ton; but suppose there were no\nrailroads and no railway monopolies, could or would coal from the same\nmines be delivered in this city as cheap as it now is? Suppose there\nwere no railways between this city and the great West, would wheat,\nflour, beef, pork, and the other necessaries of life be cheaper for\nthe laboring class in this city than they now are? Railway companies\nmay charge exorbitant rates of freight, and yet the laboring classes\nget the chief necessaries of life cheaper than they would, other things\nbeing equal or unchanged, without them. Those things might be cheaper\nin the localities where they are produced, but not elsewhere. The evil\nof these monopolies and corporations is not so much in the enhanced\ncost of living chargeable to them, as their multiplication of the\nclass dependent on capital for employment; and in their power to shape\nthe action of the government to their special interests. It is far\nbetter for the workman to depend on a single wealthy individual who is\nlikely to have a soul than on a soulless corporation. The combination\nof capital in corporations for industrial or trading purposes founds\nan aristocracy, or ruling class, far more humiliating and crushing to\nthe class below them than aristocracies founded on land and birth,\neducation and manners.\n\nThis is the view taken by the Internationals. They war specially\nagainst the rule of the burgher class, which is now supreme in\nsociety, as formerly were the church, kings, and nobilities. In this\nopposition to the rule of the burgher class, supposing the means and\nmethods of their warfare just and honorable, we confess we might\nsympathize with the Internationals, as we have always sympathized with\nthe working-classes. We never have been able to get up much liking for\nan aristocracy based on Mammon, who, Milton tells us, was the meanest\nof all the angels that fell, and who, even in heaven, went about head\ndown, and his eyes fixed on the gold of heaven\u2019s pavement. It is well\nfor no country when its ruling class are the moneyed or business\nclass. Yet it would be difficult to say, as to our country at least,\nwhat class can be better trusted with the government, or what class\nhas more virtue, more nobility of sentiment, chivalric feeling, nobler\naims, or higher purpose. Nothing better from the proletarian class        699\ncould be expected, and, judging from the Paris Commune, nothing so\ngood. The workingmen have all the love of money, all the sordid\npassions, low views, and degrading vices that can be charged to the\nburgher class, and, perhaps, fewer redeeming qualities. Civilization\nhas descended to the burgher. What would it gain by descending to the\nproletary? But let us listen once more to Mr. Phillips:\n\n     \u201cI think our civilization is better than anywhere in the world.\n     Now, gentlemen, you say to me, What do you intend to do? Every\n     man has a different theory, and I have no panacea. My theory is\n     only this: I know that a wrong system exists, and that the only\n     method in these states of turning the brains of the country on\n     one side is to bring it into conflict, and organize a party. If I\n     should ask one of your editors to-night to let me indite an\n     article on labor and capital, very likely he would refuse me, or\n     if he granted it, it might be because a fanatic like me would\n     sell a copy or two. But if you will give me 50,000 votes on one\n     side, and the balance impartially divided between your Fentons\n     and Conklings and Seymours, I will show you every journal in the\n     city of New York discussing the question with me. Labor is too\n     poor to edit a column in a New York journal, but when it comes in\n     the shape of votes, then those same journals cannot afford to\n     disregard it. Now, let us organize it. The ultimate view which we\n     aim at is co-operation, where there is no labor as such, and no\n     capital as such--where every man is interested proportionately in\n     the results. How will you reach it? Only by grappling with the\n     present organizations of power in the nation. It is money that\n     rivets the chains of labor. If I could, I would abolish every\n     moneyed corporation in the thirty states. Yet I am not certain\n     that that would be a wise measure, because it seems probable that\n     the business of the nineteenth century can hardly be carried on\n     without corporations; but if it be true that facility and\n     cheapness of production are solely to be reached by the machinery\n     of corporations, then I say, gentlemen, that the statesmanship of\n     this generation is called upon to devise some method by which\n     wealth may be incorporated and liberty saved. Pennsylvania has\n     got to find out some method by which Harrisburg may exist without\n     being the tail to the kite of the Pennsylvania Central.\n\n     \u201cI think, in the first place, we ought to graduate taxes. If a\n     man has a thousand dollars a year and pays a hundred, the man\n     that has five thousand a year ought to pay five hundred. I would\n     have a millionaire with forty millions of dollars taxed so highly\n     that he would only have enough to live comfortably upon.\u201d\n\nThat our civilization is the best in the world, it is patriotic to\nbelieve, and under several aspects it no doubt is so, or at least was\nso, a few years ago; but the burgher influence, which decides the\naction of government, is fast preventing this from continuing to be\nso. We were intended by nature to be a great agricultural people, and\nwe have labored with all the force of the government and artificial\ncontrivances to become, spite of nature, a great manufacturing and\ncommercial people, like the people of Great Britain, as if our\nterritory were as limited as that of the British Isles. Whatever\nadvantages we possessed over the nations of the Old World in the\nbeginning, we owed to the extent, cheapness, and fertility of our vast\ntracts of unoccupied lands, which enabled the working-man, after a few\nyears of labor at wages, to become a land-owner, and to become the\ncultivator of his own Sabine farm. But the influence of the ruling\nclasses, with its chief seats in Massachusetts and Pennsylvania, has\nbeen steadily exerted since 1824 to deprive the country of these\nadvantages, and to create as large a proletarian class as possible, so\nthat no doubt, if, aside from the vast public works, or rather, the\nso-called internal improvements undertaken by private corporations,       700\nand which give for the time employment to large numbers of workmen,\nskilled and unskilled, we now offer any advantages to the laborer over\nthose he has abroad--at any rate, if we do, those advantages are fast\ndisappearing.\n\nWe are no more favorable to the system of corporations than is Mr.\nPhillips; and the writer of this for years opposed with whatever\nabilities he had their creation and multiplication. He did so till he\nsaw opposition could avail nothing to check their growth. No\nopposition can avail anything now, since the abolition of slavery has,\nin a great measure, identified the great planting interests of the\nSouth with the burgher interests of the North, as it was intended to\ndo. For this Mr. Phillips is himself in no small degree responsible,\nand as an International, or a leader in the labor movement, he is only\ntrying to undo what he hoped to do as an abolitionist. Philanthropy is\nan excellent sentiment when directed by practical wisdom and\nknowledge; but, when blindly followed, it creates a hundredfold more\nevil than it can cure, even if successful in its special aims. Even\nMr. Phillips doubts if the corporation system can be safely abolished.\nWe tell him there is no power in the country that can abolish it,\nbecause it governs the general government and nearly all the state\ngovernments. Give Mr. Phillips the fifty thousand votes he asks for,\nand the party he wishes to organize, he would, no doubt, become a\npower in elections, and could command an important place in the\ngovernment for himself, and places also for his friends; but, however\nimportant the place to which he might be elected or appointed, he\nwould find himself impotent to effect anything against the system he\nopposes, or in favor of the system he approves.\n\nMr. Phillips tells us that his main reliance is on the \u201ceducation of\nthe masses.\u201d So do we, only we protest against calling the people who\nhave rational souls \u201cthe masses,\u201d as if they were piles or heaps of\nbrute matter. But education given by the burgher civilization as\neducator, or suffered to be freely given by it, will tend to\nperpetuate that civilization, or the very system, social and\nindustrial, which Mr. Phillips and the Internationals war against, not\nto displace or reform it. Let the education of all the children of the\nland be entrusted to a society whose principles were so admirably\nsummed up and approved by a former governor of Massachusetts, namely,\n\u201cLet the government take care of the rich, and the rich will take care\nof the poor,\u201d how much would the education given do to elevate or\nmeliorate that society? No order of civilization or society ever does\nor ever can educate in reference to a higher ideal than its own. Hence\nthe reason why the state or secular society cannot be a fit educator\nof children and youth, and why all education can be safely entrusted\nonly to the spiritual society whose ideal is the God-man, perfect, and\nthe highest conceivable.\n\nPurely secular education proceeds on the assumption that men and\nnations always act as well as they know, or that all individuals and\nnations will act uniformly in reference to their own interests so far\nas they know them--an assumption disproved by every one\u2019s daily\nexperience, as well as by the universal experience of mankind. Mr.\nPhillips ought to know that men who ought to know better are often\ncarried away by their lusts, their passions, the force of events, and\nsocial and other influences, to act in direct opposition to their         701\nbetter judgment. There are comparatively few of us who cannot say with\nthe heathen poet:\n\n              \u201cVideo meliora, proboque,\n          Deteriora sequor.\u201d\n\nMen do wrong or fail to follow the right less from ignorance than from\npassion and infirmity of will. Society could not subsist if founded on\nwhat the philosophers in the last century called enlightened\nself-interest, or what Jeremy Bentham called \u201cutility,\u201d or \u201cthe\ngreatest happiness\u201d principle. What is wanted is something stronger\nthan interest, something stronger than passion, which, while it\nenlightens the intellect, gives invincible firmness to the will.\n\nThe only power that can control this system, the evils of which Mr.\nPhillips points out, while its social and industrial tendencies he\ndeplores, and adjust the various conflicting interests of society on\nthe principles of justice and equity, is and must be supernatural. The\nEnglish system of checks and balances, of restraining or balancing one\ninterest by another, is a delusion, as the failure of the experiment\nfully proves. It restrains the weaker interests, but strengthens the\nstronger, makes the rich richer, and the poor poorer, and hence in no\ncountry do you find larger accumulations of wealth, and side by side\nwith them a deeper or more widespread poverty or more squalid\nwretchedness. There are no resources in the order of nature for a\npeople that adopts the burgher system, and makes material interests\nthe great aim of life, from which power can be drawn adequate to\novercome the evils of the system against which the Internationals wage\ntheir relentless war. We can find no deliverance in the natural order,\nand must seek it, if anywhere, in the supernatural, that is, in\nreligion--and in a religion that speak with a supernatural authority,\ninfuses into the soul a supernatural energy, and lifts it above the\nworld and its systems or civilizations, above all earthly goods, and\nfixes its affections on the Unseen and the Eternal--a religion that\ngives light to the intellect and firmness to the will. It is only\neducation in and by this religion that can avail anything.\n\nBut religion is precisely what the Internationals reject, hate, or\ndespise--what the great body of the workmen in our towns, cities, and\nmanufacturing villages have ceased to believe, and even with those of\nthe so-called proletarian class generally who do not formally reject\nreligion, it has ceased to be a power, to have any hold on the\nconscience, and has become a vague tradition or a lifeless form. It is\npretty much the same with the burgher class, and was so with them\nbefore it was so with the proletarian class. Modern civilization\nitself is based on atheism, or the purely material order. Hence the\nevils the Internationals seek to remedy are the natural and inevitable\nresult of the new order of civilization, not yet two centuries old.\nThe Internationals see it, and make war on the existing civilization\nfor that very reason. But on what principles, and in what interest? On\nthe principles and in the interests of that very civilization itself.\nTheir success would simply oust the burgher and put the proletary in\nhis place. They introduce or propose not a higher and a nobler\ncivilization, but, so far as there is any difference, a still lower\nand more degrading civilization.\n\nThe revolution that has been going on in society since the close of\nthe fourteenth century has had several phases. The first phase was the\nunion of the burghers and the sovereigns against the Pope and the\nfeudal nobility, and resulted in the triumph of absolute monarchy        702\nin the sixteenth century and the seventeenth. The second phase was the\nunion of the burghers, or the _tiers \u00e9tat_, and the people or a\nportion of them against monarchy and the church, which issued in\nestablishing the supremacy of the burghers. The third phase is that in\nthe midst of which we now are, and is--monarchy and the church gone or\nassumed to be gone--that of the proletaries against burghers. Neither\nof the preceding phases of the revolution effected the good hoped for,\nor satisfied the revolutionary appetite, but really aggravated the\nsocial evils it was sought to remedy. The friends of the revolution\nsaid it did not go far enough, and stopped short of the mark. It has\nnow descended to the bottom, to the lowest stratum, or to the lowest\ndeep, and proposes to wrest the power from the burgher class and rest\nit in the proletarian class. It is some consolation to know that we at\nlength have reached the last phase of the revolution, and that after\nits failure, as fail it will, nothing worse is to be feared. \u201cWhen\nthings are at worst, they sometimes mend.\u201d\n\nThe principal objection to the Internationals is not that they oppose\nwhat is called modern civilization, or that they seek to remedy\nundeniable social evils; but that they seek to do it on false\nprinciples, by inadequate means, and unlawful and even horrible\nmethods, and can only lose even by success.\n\nThe International has absorbed all the other labor unions, and may be\nsaid to represent the whole proletarian class in Europe and America,\nand its leaders are avowed atheists; they reject the entire\nsupernatural order, disdain or contemn all forms of religion, and seek\nto redress the material by the material. This alone is sufficient in\nitself to condemn them. They reject not only religion, but also\ngovernment, or the entire political and civil order. They will have no\nGod, no king, no aristocracy, no democracy, no law, no court, no\njudges, but simply--we can hardly say what. Practically, they will\nfall under the authority of irresponsible and despotic leaders,\ngoverning in the name of nobody, and by their own passions or\ninterests alone. They may aim at positive results, but at present\ntheir means are only adequate to the work of destruction. Thus an\norganized and secret, and, when practicable, open war on all religion,\non God, on all authority, all law, and especially on capital or\nindividual property. What positive result is to follow, Mr. Phillips\nconfesses his inability to tell.\n\nFrom Mr. Phillips we learn that they aim at the destruction of the\nwhole modern industrial system, and propose that the workmen shall\ntake possession of the establishments created by capitalists,\nincorporated or not, and run them on their own account, and share the\nprofits among themselves, without any indemnification to the owners.\nAs to land, no individual is to own it or any portion of it--it is to\nbe made common, and open, as to the usufruct, to any one who chooses\nto occupy it. Mr. Phillips says:\n\n     \u201cI have another proposition. I think when a man has passed five\n     years in the service of a corporation, though he may not have\n     bought a dollar of its stock, he is in a certain sense a\n     stockholder. He has put his labor and persistency there, and I\n     think every man who has been employed in a corporation for a year\n     or two should have a voice in its financial management. In Japan,\n     when a man dies, his land is left to the state. Do you not think\n     that is a wiser plan than ours? The land becomes more valuable\n     through the labor of the whole country, and not by that of the\n     man who eats off of it. Our great hope in the future is in the       703\n     education of the masses, for they will yet be our rulers. New\n     York stood aghast at the defalcation of millions of dollars, but\n     will you submit to be robbed of hundreds of millions by\n     monopolists? Fifth Avenue cannot afford to let the Five Points\n     exist. You cannot get wealth enough to fortify you against\n     discontented ignorance within your reach. The lesson taught by\n     Chicago is that wealth cannot afford to neglect poverty.\u201d\n\nHow the matter would be adjusted if two or more men should happen to\ninsist on occupying the same house and lot we do not know. They would\nall have an equal right, or one would have as good a right to it as\nanother, and, there being no authority, no law, and none of them\nhaving any moral or religious principle, they would most likely, all\nhaving the pride and obstinacy natural to the human heart, be obliged\nto settle the question by fighting it out, and leaving the house and\nlot as the prize to the victor. Might or craft would then settle the\nright. Society and mankind would fall back into a state of war, in\nwhich might is the only rule of right, and which Hobbes contends was\ntheir natural state, out of which they were happy to get by the\nsurrender of all their natural rights or natural liberty to any one\nwho would consent to be their king, and in return would maintain them\nin a state of peace.\n\nThe Paris Commune, endorsed by Mr. Phillips, and which was led on and\napproved by the Internationals, tells us not only the principles of\nthe Association, but its method of carrying them out and reducing them\nto practice. We cite here a passage from _The Dublin Review_ on the\nprinciples and spirit of the Commune:\n\n     \u201cM. Auguste Desmoulins is one of those fanatical believers in the\n     infallibility of the unknown, to whom the past is all\n     superstition, the present all corruption, and the future the one\n     reality of life. He is inaccessible to conviction either in the\n     way of holy water or the way of petroleum; and with him, as with\n     all those of his school, the mind has become so far softened that\n     the terminology which has hitherto served not merely among\n     Christians and Jews, but among such heathens as the Greeks and\n     Romans, the Turks, the Indians, the Red Indians, to distinguish\n     between right and wrong, has ceased to convey a meaning. The\n     world is not a mere Babel of tongues nowadays: it is, outside the\n     church, a far worse Babel of thought. In the following passage,\n     which really sums up the argument of his paper in a sufficiently\n     trenchant and complete form, M. Desmoulins does not hesitate to\n     convey his opinion that the coveting of one\u2019s neighbor\u2019s goods is\n     suggested by, or at least connected with, a sentiment of justice;\n     that the daily bread earned by labor is much more keenly enjoyed\n     by a man who does not believe in God, or heaven, or hell; and\n     that as neither the French workman nor his master believes in a\n     future state, it is only natural and quite right that the workman\n     should heal the difference between them here by robbery:\n\n        \u201c\u2018The Parisian workman is often obliged to visit the\n        handsome quarters of the town, while new buildings are\n        ever thrusting him further away beyond the old barriers\n        into vile habitations. In this condition, which is made\n        for him. anything helps to irritate him. How can he find\n        content in a home that is narrow, ill-lighted, foul,\n        nearly without air, when he compares this wretched hole,\n        for which he pays so dear, with the sumptuous chambers\n        that he has either built or decorated in the rich\n        quarters? It is easy to denounce in eloquent homilies the\n        spirit of envy that devours the lower classes. We should\n        recognize that a true notion of justice mixes with the\n        feeling.\n\n        \u201c\u2018The desire to enjoy the fruits of his labor is\n        especially likely to spring up in the mind of the French\n        workman, who does not believe, any more than his master,\n        in the reparations of a future life; who does not\n        perceive for the right of the master any other sanction\n        than the material fact of possession; and whom, besides,\n        universal suffrage invests with a share of sovereignty\n        equal to that of the capitalist. Whatever may be said by\n        those who have been justly called mammonite writers, we\n        can easily understand that the proletary who has just\n        given his vote finds it hard to resign himself to social\n        serfage at the very moment when he feels himself\n        politically sovereign. This striking contrast between his\n        rights as citizen and his condition of pariah in society,\n        accompanies him everywhere, reproduces itself in every\n        act of his life, and adds a perpetual gloom to exhausting\n        labor and never-abating privations.\u2019\n\n     \u201cThis passage contains the essence of M. Desmoulins\u2019 apology for     704\n     the Commune; and it supplies, we submit, matter for reflection in\n     its every line. The statesmen and the classes in society who\n     delight in seeing the influence of religion weakened or\n     destroyed, never seem to realize until it is too late that they\n     are sure to be the especial victims of their own success. The\n     great truths of life hang together and sustain each other:\n\n              \u2018All is contained in each:\n               Dodona\u2019s forest in an acorn\u2019s cup.\u2019\n\n     The man who scorns to love God, how shall he continue to love his\n     neighbor? The man who has said, \u2018There is no God,\u2019 is he not on\n     the point of also saying, \u2018Lust is lawful,\u2019 \u2018Property is\n     robbery\u2019?\u201d\n\nWe copy also from the same _Review_ a letter from General Cluseret\nfrom this city to a member of the Society:\n\n                                       \u201cNEW YORK, 17th February.\n\n     \u201cMY DEAR VARLIN: I have just received your welcome letter of the\n     2d. It explains the delay in replying to my application. Need I\n     say that I accept, and will set to work at once in endeavoring to\n     be useful to my brethren in poverty and toil? The newspaper which\n     I told you of is not yet established. I think it better not to\n     renew my attempts in that direction, considering the late events\n     in France, and the numerous letters I have received from my\n     friends, who are unanimous in recalling me to Europe.\n\n     \u201cIn all probability, I shall be there next summer, but, in the\n     interval, I shall have arranged international relations between\n     the different French and American groups, and selected one person\n     or several persons (at the discretion of the French committee) of\n     proved zeal and capability, to replace me. As you say, we shall\n     surely, infallibly triumph if we persist in demanding success\n     from our organization. But we must remember that the aim of our\n     Association is to associate (_solidariser_) the greatest number\n     for action. Let us, then, be liberal; let us round off our\n     angles; let us be really brethren, not in words, but in deeds;\n     let not such mere terms as doctrine and individuality separate\n     those whom common suffering, which means a common interest, has\n     united: we are all and all, we must acknowledge that; if we are\n     beaten, it is our own fault. I have not been able to picture our\n     people to myself during the late troubles. What has been the\n     attitude of the workmen\u2019s societies, and what are their present\n     dispositions? Certainly, we must not sacrifice our ideas to\n     politics, but we must not detach ourselves from them, even\n     momentarily. In my mind, the meaning of all that is going on is\n     simply this, that the Orleans are slipping little by little close\n     to power, and paring his nails for L. N., so that one fine\n     morning they will merely have to substitute themselves for him.\n\n     \u201cNow, we ought to be ready, physically and morally, for that day.\n     _On that day, we, or nothing_. Until then I shall probably remain\n     quiet, _but on that day, I affirm_--and you know my \u2018Nay\u2019 never\n     means \u2018Yea\u2019--_Paris shall be ours, or Paris shall exist no longer_.\n     This will be the decisive moment for the accession of the\n     people.--Yours ever,     CLUSERET.\n\n     \u201cYou are mistaken in believing, for a moment, that I am\n     neglecting the socialist in favor of the political movement. No;\n     it is only from a purely socialistic point of view I am pursuing\n     the revolutionary work; but you must thoroughly know we can do\n     nothing in the direction of social reform if the old political\n     system be not annihilated. Let us not forget that at this moment\n     the Empire exists merely in name, and that government consists in\n     party abuse. If, under these grave circumstances, the socialist\n     party permits itself to be lulled to sleep by the abstract theory\n     of sociological science, _we may wake up one fine morning to find\n     ourselves under new masters, more dangerous for us than those we\n     have at present, because they would be younger, and consequently\n     more vigorous and more powerful_.\u201d\n\nWe have personally known General (?) Cluseret, and we know him to be a\nman who acts from deliberation, not impulse, who means what he says,\nand who can be restrained from going straight to his end by no\nreligious principle, moral scruple, or sentiment of mercy, pity, or\ncompassion. His disposition is as stern and inexorable as a physical      705\nlaw of nature. When he threatened to burn Paris rather than surrender\nit, he meant it, and he was the man to do it or to see that it was\ndone if within the limits of the possible. Mr. Phillips seems also to\nappear, at least, to threaten incendiarism as a means of accomplishing\nhis purpose. What means this, the closing sentence of his lecture:\n\u201cThe lesson taught by Chicago is that wealth cannot afford to neglect\npoverty\u201d? Does this mean that the Internationals burnt Chicago? or\ndoes it simply mean that other cities may be burnt as well as Chicago,\nand will be, if wealth continues to neglect poverty or refuses to\nyield to the demands of the International Association of Workingmen?\nThis gives the question a startling aspect. Certain it is that the\nAssociation holds itself free to introduce its socialism or communism\nby murder, assassination, robbery, plunder, and conflagration at the\npleasure or dictation of its chiefs. Take the following letter, read\nand endorsed by Mr. Phillips before a New York audience:\n\n     \u201cBefore proceeding to speak of it, you will allow me to read a\n     notice which has been placed in my hand, and in the object of\n     which I sympathize cordially, because the great foreign movement\n     can be commemorated by it. The French Commune has always seemed\n     to me to deserve the cordial respect of every lover of the\n     progress of the masses throughout the world. I have no doubt that\n     in due time its good name will be vindicated, and its leaders\n     lifted to the unqualified respect of the civilized world. The\n     notice I hold in my hand is as follows:\n\n        \u201c\u2018_To the Workingmen of New York, friends of humanity,\n        enemies of bloodshed, and lovers of justice_: Citizens!\n        The recent barbarous executions in France, in cold blood,\n        six months after all struggles are over, and the ferocity\n        with which the conquerors pursue their victims, are a\n        disgrace and shame to humanity. We must not allow the\n        human race to be stained by the shedding of its own blood\n        without a protest. You, workingmen, would you let your\n        friends the workingmen be murdered because they have\n        defended our rights in any part of the world? No!\n        certainly not without raising your voice and making it\n        heard across the ocean. To give effect to these purposes,\n        a grand funeral procession will take place in New York on\n        Sunday, the 10th of December, at 1 o\u2019clock, forming\n        opposite the Cooper Institute. All men, without\n        distinction of party, of race, of nationality, friends of\n        justice and freedom, are invited to join. By order of the\n        Committee of Arrangements of the Federal Council.\u2019\n\n     \u201cI hope every man who loves his fellow will show himself there.\n     There was never nobler blood shed, never more high-minded and\n     disinterested effort made in the long history of Freedom\u2019s\n     struggle, than in Paris, when, in defiance of all the oligarchies\n     of Europe, that city stood up for the individual and for liberty\n     in the nineteenth century.\u201d\n\nThe impudence of the writers of this letter is sublime, and only\nsurpassed by that of the lecturer in endorsing it. Why, these fellows\nwould persuade us that they are \u201cenemies of bloodshed and lovers of\njustice,\u201d meek as lambs, timid as sheep, and harmless as doves--they\nwho, without a shadow of justice or excuse, made the streets of Paris\nrun with the blood of the innocent, the noble, and the saintly.\n\u201cEnemies of bloodshed\u201d!--they whose hands are reeking with blood! Yes,\nto having their own blood shed, but not to the shedding of the blood\nof others. \u201cEnemies of bloodshed and lovers of justice\u201d! Good God! can\nhypocrisy or self-delusion go so far? Let the assassination of\nGenerals Le Comte and Clement Thomas, the horrible murders, when it\nwas known that the cause of the Commune was lost, of the holy and\nunoffending Archbishop of Paris, of Jesuit fathers, and a dozen\nDominican friars and lay brothers, to say nothing of other murders\nhardly less horrible, reply to that false pretence. It would seem that\nthese miscreants count for nothing the blood they shed without\nauthority, in violation of law, religion, morality, and every\nprinciple of justice, and every sentiment of humanity; it is only when    706\njustice overtakes them, and, after trial and conviction by legitimate\nauthority, orders them and their fellow-criminals to be shot or sends\nthem to the guillotine in punishment for their crimes, that they have\na horror of bloodshed! Then, and only then, they ring out their\ndastard cry against injustice and for the sympathy of that humanity\nthey have so greatly outraged! The men who have been executed by the\ngovernment at Versailles deserved their fate--men without a single\nvirtue or noble quality except personal bravery in face of death.\nDeluded were they? Yes, as every great criminal, murderer, or assassin\nis deluded.\n\nWhat most excites our indignation is to find an educated and refined\nAmerican gentleman, of no mean ability and rare eloquence, and past\nmiddle age, coming forward before an American audience to express in a\nwritten lecture deep and unreserved sympathy with, and approval of,\nthese horrors and abominations, equal to those of \u201893, and applauded\nby his auditors for such an outrage on common morality and decency.\nYet it is no more than we might have been prepared for, since Mr.\nPhillips only gave a logical expression to the principles he had\nalways defended as an abolitionist; and while there are fools enough\namong us who imagine that the issues of the war have endorsed them and\nthey have been sanctioned by the God of battles. We love our country,\nand have been proud of our countrymen; but, if they have fallen so low\nas to applaud the Paris Commune and its horrid butcheries and\nprofanations, we can only say, Alas for them!\n\nIt may have become unsafe to oppose the Internationals, since the\npolice has taken them under its protection, and granted them their\nimpudent demands. We are surrounded by Internationals--our city is at\nthe mercy of men who are restrained by no law, by no religion, by no\nmorality, by no sentiment of humanity, from using any means or methods\nthey judge likely to serve their ends, and New York is hardly less\nwealthy and more combustible than Paris. Herein is there a grave\ndanger. At its head are men who are in dead earnest, desperate men,\nwho shrink from nothing likely to further their ends. We are not\nsurprised that Prussia and Austria have taken the alarm--consulted\ntogether as to the means of protecting themselves and society against\ntheir machinations. France keeps them in check only by her army, and\nknows not how soon even the army may fraternize with them--and\nfraternize with them it certainly will if it loses all hope of\nrestoring the Empire or the monarchy. Great Britain is now using them,\nbut will soon find herself obliged to suppress them, as she did or as\nshe attempted to suppress the Thugs in India, if she means to preserve\nher institutions. Here they will make trouble, for each party will bid\nfor their votes, and fear to offend them for fear of losing an\nelection; but they can acquire less power out of our cities here than\nelsewhere, unless they enroll in their ranks the recently emancipated\nnegroes, and rouse their savage instincts to dispossess the planters\nand to take possession of their plantations; for the passion for\nindividual property is too strong in our agricultural laborers, and\nthe facilities for individuals to rise from proletaries to\ncapitalists, or to the ownership of land, are too great to afford\nthem, when it comes to the test, any appropriate support. Yet they\nwill confuse our politics, corrupt still more the morals of our\ncommunity, and defeat any wise and salutary action of the government.\nThey will strengthen the burgher class and corporations in towns by       707\ncompelling many who are not favorable to these classes and interests\nto support them, as the only means left of saving society from lapsing\ninto complete barbarism.\n\nWe shall probably return at an early day to this subject, for it is\nreally the great question of the hour.\n\n\n     [144] 1. _The Dublin Review._ Article IX.: The International\n     Society. London. October, 1871.\n\n     2. _The Labor Movement._ Lecture of Wendell Phillips.\n     Steinway Hall. _New York Tribune_, Dec. 7, 1871.\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n                       ON CATHOLIC LIBRARIES.\n\n\nIt must be confessed that the Catholics of this country, in\nproportion to their numerical strength and untiring zeal for the\ninterests of religion, do not present that proportionately large\nclass of readers which we find among the Protestant sects. Their\nexertions in building churches, schools, and charitable institutions\nhave been beyond all praise, and have constantly elicited the\nadmiration and astonishment of their opponents; but as yet very\nlittle organized effort has been made by the influential portion of\nthe laity to place within easy reach of their humbler co-religionists\nthe means of cheap and instructive reading. The more intelligent and\nwealthy are too often content to purchase a few standard Catholic\nworks, and after perusing them with more or less attention place them\nwith their other books on the shelves of their libraries, there to\nremain secluded from public view, and of comparatively little value\nto any person but their owners. The less favored class, who for\nobvious reasons are unable to indulge in this luxury, are still\npractically cut off from one of the chief sources of knowledge and\namusement--good books--and are necessarily compelled from\nuncontrollable circumstances to go through life with their minds and\ntastes undeveloped, and their time dissipated in idleness, or wasted\nover the trashy and deleterious contents of the many cheap story\nnewspapers and novels which the American press is constantly\nscattering broadcast over the land.\n\nThis melancholy fact is most observable in the ranks of our adult\nimmigrant population, who, coming from countries where education was\nalmost unattainable, money scarce, and books dear, have not generally\nacquired either ability or taste for reading, though it has been\nremarked that even among them, when an opportunity is at all\npresented, the desire for information is excited in a remarkable\ndegree, and only requires a reasonable impetus to develop it still\nmore. Still, from the fact of their usually limited means and\ncomparatively unsettled modes of life, they are as yet unable to\npurchase or retain any appreciable collection of desirable\npublications.\n\nThe remedy for this defect in our growing Catholic society lies, in\nour opinion, in the formation of local libraries, suitable in variety\nand extent to the wants and capacity of particular localities. There\nare at least twenty-five hundred centres of Catholic population in\nAmerica where very respectable collections of books could be purchased\nand placed in some safe and accessible place, say in the school-rooms\nor church basements, and half as many more, particularly in our\nWestern settlements, where at least a few good books would be of great    708\nadvantage to the hardy tillers of the soil, and where, even if there\nbe no public place to deposit them, there is always some prominent\nsettler who would willingly assume the honorary office of librarian.\nExperiments of both plans have been tried in many of our large city\nparishes, and in a few isolated instances in the country, with marked\nsuccess.\n\nThe advantages of libraries conducted on this system are numerous, and\nought to be apparent to every one, not the least of which would be\n_cheapness_. Let us suppose, for instance, that, in any given locality,\nfifty persons would each subscribe two dollars. This would create a\ncapital of one hundred dollars, or sufficient to purchase, on an\naverage, one hundred and fifty volumes, great and small, of readable\nbooks, from any of our large publishing-houses in Boston, New York,\nPhiladelphia, or Baltimore. Thus, for two dollars, a subscriber would\nhave, for reading or reference, the practical ownership of works at\nleast fifty times the value of his contribution, and, by charging new\nmembers a small fee for the use of each volume, a fund might be\ncreated to purchase new books as they appeared from time to time. In\nthis manner, and with proper attention, a library of dimension\ncommensurate with the growing wants of the neighborhood would be\nbrought into existence without much expense to any particular class of\nthe community.\n\nBut the moral effect of the establishment of such small centres of\nintelligence would be incomparably greater. For the adults, it would\nat once be an attraction and a source of occupation, tending\npowerfully to withdraw them from those pursuits, not always edifying,\nin which unoccupied minds too often indulge, to the detriment of their\nhealth and morals. It would be the means of generating a taste for\nmental improvement, and of making them more confident among their\ncompanions, and more proficient and reflective in their various\npursuits; for it is a well-recognized truth, that as a man, be he\nartisan, trader, or farmer, acquires those habits of thought which can\nonly be derived from study, he becomes more skilful and methodical in\nhis peculiar calling. The youth of both sexes, however, would reap the\ngreatest advantages. There are hundreds of thousands of children of\nCatholic parents among us who can read, and, what is more, _will_ read.\nThe young American mind, no matter of what parentage, is a hungry and\nan investigating mind, and must have some sort of food, do or say what\nwe will. If it cannot have good literary food, it will have what is\npoisonous, and in this lies the secret of the success of the\nsensational story papers, and the no less deleterious tales that, in a\nfew years, have made fortunes for their publishers. It is well known\nthat one of the former class, published in this city, boasts of a\nweekly circulation of three hundred thousand copies, and another of\nnearly as great a number. If we go into the large workshops of the\nprincipal cities, or the factories of New England, where so many young\npersons are engaged, at the hour allotted for dinner we will see every\nsecond boy and girl devouring with more eagerness than their food the\ncontents of some flashy journal or specimen of what is generally known\nas \u201cyellow-covered literature,\u201d in which vice is hidden under a thin\nveil of romance only to make it the more seductive. Now, the way to\ncheck this insidious and widespread evil is not by complaining of or\nrailing at it, but by placing within easy reach, and in accessible        709\nplaces sound and attractive Catholic works. The impetuous mind of\nyouth may be compared to a rapid stream, which, dammed up or checked\nin its career, is sure sooner or later to overflow its boundaries to\nthe destruction of its surroundings, but which, if its course is\ndirected by skilful and experienced hands, not only ceases to be\ndangerous, but becomes a source of usefulness and power. To give this\ndirection to the expanding intellect of the rising generation, and to\nturn to good use what might by neglect or repression become an evil\nand a curse, is one of the first and plainest duties of parents, for\nthe proper performance of which they will be held to a strict\naccountability. It is not enough for them to see that their offspring\nattend church on Sundays and holy-days, that they go to Sunday-school\nregularly, and say their prayers night and morning, if they allow them\nafterwards to ponder from hour to hour over sickly romances; nor will\nit serve to send their children to school to learn to spell and read,\nif the knowledge thus gained be turned to the enervation of their\nminds and the corruption of their morals. Education is not in itself\nan end, it is only the means to an end, and that end is the knowledge\nof God\u2019s law, and the best way of conforming one\u2019s conduct to its\nrequirements so as to secure our eternal salvation. There is no excuse\nfor a Catholic parent for not putting into the hands of his children\nentertaining and moral books, nor is there any palliation for any one\nprofessing our holy faith, and who has arrived at the years of\ndiscretion, for encouraging or reading the thousand-and-one works of\nfiction which we see every day exposed on news-stands and in cheap\nbook-stores, and which are not only immoral in tone and spirit, but in\neffect positively anti-Christian. Besides books of a serious and\npractical character, we have numerous works of fiction, published in\nthis country and easily obtained, of the highest order of talent\nunited to rare dramatic force and interest, which are detrimental\nneither to morals nor religion. The writings of Griffin, Banim,\nHuntington, Julia Kavanagh, Mrs. Sadlier, Mrs. Anna Dorsey, Lady\nFullerton, Lady Herbert, and many others that we could name, are of\nthis character, and are worthy to be read by the highest as well as\nthe lowest in society. Of works treating on history, science in its\nvarious departments, biography, travels, etc., Catholic in tone, and\nelaborate or elementary in arrangement, we have a large and varied\nsupply; and new productions under these heads are constantly\nappearing, more fascinating to the cultivated taste than even the\nproductions of our best novelists. But it has been objected that these\npublications are too dear; that poor people cannot afford to spend ten\nor fifteen dollars on a few books. Granted; but, if they can have the\nuse of four or five score for a couple of dollars by subscribing to a\nparochial library, is not the objection removed? This is what local\nlibraries, and they alone, can do.\n\nNow, what would be the effect of this system of libraries on the\ngeneral tone of public opinion? Decidedly most salutary. In addition\nto driving from circulation many of the demoralizing newspapers,\nperiodicals, and books which even non-Catholics denounce as immoral,\nand for the suppression of some of which the aid of legislative action\nhas been invoked, it would create and foster a pure literary taste\namong no inconsiderable portion of our diverse population, and, apart\nfrom its direct moral effect, would render it more valuable and more      710\nreproductive in a material point of view. Many of the most important\npolitical, social, and commercial problems of the day, on the true\nsolution of which depends the future welfare of our republic, can only\nbe properly comprehended by reference to the history of the past, and\nto the biographies of the great statesmen who succeeded or failed in\nfounding or destroying nations and empires. And even in the discussion\nof minor questions affecting our interests or liberties, some\nacquaintance with the antecedents of our country is absolutely\nnecessary to enable us to form proper opinions of their merits. In\nindividual cases, one of the compensations for declining years and one\nof the highest claims to respect is experience; but to the reader of\nhistory, no matter what his age, the accumulated experience of at\nleast thirty centuries is accessible, and not only controls his\njudgment and enlarges his knowledge, but vastly enhances his social\nand political status. But this experience, to be of any value, must be\nbased on truth and undoubted facts. It must arise from the just\nappreciation of unbiassed statements and philosophical deductions,\nstripped of all that false assertion and unlimited prejudice which\nhave characterized so many European and American writers for the last\nthree centuries. Hence the need of Catholic books and Catholic\nreaders--for, in this as in commercial matters, the demand regulates\nthe supply--and the creation of new facilities for the spread of\nreliable information.\n\nTake the case of the _History of England_ by Lingard. Before the\nappearance of that excellent work, we venture to say that\nseven-eighths of the reading population in every part of the world\nbelieved more or less in the falsehoods and forgeries with which the\npages of the English historians of the post-Reformation period were\ncrowded. Many more such instances of recent successful vindication of\nthe truth of history might be cited, not the least valuable and\ncomplete being the production of our own countrymen, such as that very\nable and learned refutation of D\u2019Aubign\u00e9\u2019s _History of the\nReformation_[145] and the _Life of Mary, Queen of Scots_,[146] which\nhas lately appeared, and in which the slanders and aspersions so\nrepeatedly heaped on the memory and character of that beautiful but\nill-starred sovereign are condemned, exposed, and, it is to be hoped,\nfinally disposed of. The first of these works is the most elaborate\nand reliable book we have on that important epoch, when every throne\nin Europe was shaken to its base, and when men\u2019s passions, let loose\nby the preaching of the heresiarchs of England and the Continent,\nthreatened to destroy every vestige of temporal and spiritual\nauthority. There is no period in the history of Christendom about\nwhich so many falsehoods and such mendacious calumnies have been\ninvented and circulated by prejudiced writers; and it was only on the\nappearance of the book in question that we have had, at least in\nEnglish, any comprehensive and truthful account of the origin and\nprogress of that rebellion against God\u2019s church and laws. This\ncountry, from its settlement to the present, the origin and growth of\nits institutions from their inception in the early part of the\nseventeenth century till their fruition in our present constitution,\nthough full of incident and fraught with lessons of the highest\npolitical wisdom, is yet imperfectly known and but little understood.     711\nIs it not, then, worth a little sacrifice on the part of parents to\nplace before their children, who ere long are to become the rulers of\nthe state, a correct and impartial account of the birth of religious\nliberty on this continent, of the dangers, trials, and struggles our\nforefathers endured in order to build up and transmit to posterity the\nblessings of a free government? Yet such knowledge can only be\nobtained through books, and books, so far as the majority of Catholics\nare concerned, are almost unattainable, except through co-operation.\nThen, again, we are often taunted by such hackneyed phrases as the\ndarkness of the middle ages, the ignorance of the monks, the\ncorruption of the Papacy, the horrors of the Spanish Inquisition, and\nsuch other fabrications of Protestant authors. Are we to allow our\nchildren to go forth in the midst of a reading and, in a religious\nsense at least, a hostile people, unprepared to intelligently refute\nsuch calumnies, and unable to account for the various agencies by\nwhich the Catholic Church at all times sought to eliminate\ncivilization from barbarism, light from darkness, and Christianity\nfrom paganism at first, and from heresy and infidelity subsequently?\nThey must have great--too great, perhaps--confidence in the faith of\ntheir children thus to submit them to so severe a test; and yet how\nfew reliable books dealing with those subjects do we find provided for\nyoung Catholics by those whose duty it is to direct their conduct and\nshield them from the temptations and snares of the world! How many\nparents, intent on rewarding their children by presents, ever think of\npresenting them with good books, which would not only gratify their\ntastes and improve their minds, but would be, at least to them, a\nperpetual source of consolation?\n\nFar different are the tactics of our opponents, who are never tired of\ndevising measures to instil into the minds of the youth of their own\nfaith all the errors of Protestantism under the most attractive guise\npossible, and at the same time to weaken the faith and pervert the\njudgment of our children. It is perhaps not generally known that every\nschool district in this state, outside the large cities, is supplied\nwith a library of select works, under the charge of the school\ntrustees, and every child in the district is allowed free access to\nit, with the privilege of borrowing one volume at a time. These\nlibraries were originally supplied at the expense of the public, and\nare annually increased by new purchases, the funds being derived from\nthe state library fund. When we state that those libraries were\nfurnished by a publishing-house in this city the first success of\nwhich in business was due to the production of Maria Monk, the works\nof Eugene Sue, and others of a kindred character, and that the\ncompilers and abridgers, who claim the authorship of them, have been\nremarkable for bigotry even in this age of Protestant intolerance, it\nis scarcely necessary to point out the danger to our young Catholics\nof the free circulation of such books among them. In country places,\nthe absence of the noise, excitement, and attractions of city life\nnaturally leads to a desire for reading and a remarkable tendency to\ndiscussion, and it is there that good Catholic books are most\nrequired. Our children must mix with those of the sects, and will be\ncompelled to listen to a repetition of the fabrications and falsehoods\nagainst their religion which are weekly dealt out in the Protestant\nchurches, daily commented on in the household, and which fill the\npages of the books of the district libraries and local newspapers.\nThis is the poison that is carrying off so many of our juvenile           712\nco-religionists, more dangerous to their souls than the deadly upas\nwould be to their bodies, and against which we must provide some\nantidote. If one of our boys is confronted with quotations from Hume\nor Macaulay, he must be prepared to answer them on the undoubted\nauthority of Lingard; if he be taunted with the poverty or ignorance\nof the Catholics of Ireland, he can show whence came this penury and\ndestitution by reference to McGee\u2019s, Cusack\u2019s, or any of the numerous\nhistories of that country; he ought to be prepared to oppose\nArchbishop Spalding to D\u2019Aubign\u00e9, Meline to Froude, the history of the\nMaryland settlers (the founders of religious liberty on this\ncontinent) to the eulogiums on the intolerant Puritans, the \u201cIrish\nSettlers\u201d to the Know-Nothing organs--in fact, truth and light\nwherever falsehood and darkness are to be found. The truth has nothing\nto lose, but everything to gain, by full and free discussion. It is\nonly error that shrinks from thorough investigation. But we must take\ncare that our sons and daughters are well supplied with plain and\nuseful facts regarding their faith and religion before they are\nsubjected to the ordeal through which all young Catholics must pass\nwho mingle freely in Protestant society, lest through their ignorance\nthe cause they espouse should be weakened by their imperfect advocacy.\n\nNeither ought we to hesitate in learning lessons from our adversaries\nwhen it is possible to do so. If the children of darkness are wiser\nthan the children of light in their generation, it is no reason why we\nshould be guilty of folly. Apart from the falsity of their teachings,\nwe have often had occasion to admire the systematic perseverance with\nwhich the Protestant sects have endeavored to disseminate their peculiar\nviews throught the medium of cheap and attractive publications. All\nthat art and skill can do has been done to render them pleasing to the\neye and agreeable to the mind. The highest literary talent is employed\nand well rewarded, because the result of their labors is extensively\ncirculated, and, even when persons are unable or unwilling to\npurchase, the purse of the wealthy is always open to enable them to\nobtain books free of cost, while our children are too often allowed to\nbegin life but half-instructed, and to continue in it illiterate and\nuntaught. Were our schools as efficient and as numerous as we wish and\nas we hope one day to see them, we might assure ourselves that all\nthis might be taught in them; but they are not, nor can they be for\nsome years, and we cannot ignore the fact or wait for the slow\noperation of time to perfect and extend their influence. We must\nendeavor by some means or other to supply the deficiency, so far, at\nleast, as this generation is concerned. Besides, there will always be\na large number of children of the working-classes who cannot remain\nlong at any school, but must go into the world to earn their bread.\nWith these the most critical period of their lives is from the time\nthey pass from the control of the teacher till they reach manhood or\nwomanhood, for then their characters for good or evil are formed. For\nthis class of toilers, good books are not only a recreation and a\nsolace, but an absolute necessity; but, being limited in means, we\nhold that it is only through the means of local libraries that they\ncan gratify their wishes and find opportunities for mental\nimprovement.\n\nLiterature itself would also gain much by the establishment of these\nlibraries. How often has it been remarked that, out of the large number   713\nof Catholic young men of brains and education which our colleges and\nacademies turn out annually, there are so few writers. The explanation\nis that for them authorship is neither a remunerative nor an\nappreciated employment. The professions of law and medicine and the\nattractions of commerce and trade are constantly drawing into their\nvortices the best energies and talent of our young graduates, many of\nwhom with proper encouragement and patronage might, as authors, render\nincalculable service to the cause of truth and morality. What is\nrequired to utilize this large amount of natural gifts and acquired\nknowledge is simply the more extensive circulation of works already\npublished; the increase in the number of new books on subjects of\ngeneral interest, in style and treatment more in accordance with\nmodern forms than those published years ago; but, above all, the\ncultivation of a correct standard of literary excellence among the\npeople, and the creation of a widespread class of readers and\nthinkers.\n\nThe objection to the dearness of Catholic publications would also be\nremoved by this means. It is well known to those conversant with the\npublishing business that, in proportion to the increase of the\ncirculation of a given book, the expense of its production per copy is\ndiminished in an inverse ratio. A book of which three thousand copies\nare sold at two dollars each would be more remunerative to both\npublisher and author at even one dollar if twenty thousand copies were\ndisposed of. The publisher, also, in his contract with the author and\nin view of the uncertainty of his sales, naturally adds to the cost of\nproduction and to his fair percentage of profit a certain amount for\nprobable losses by having a portion of his edition left on his shelves\nunsold. The establishment of local libraries would obviate the\nnecessity of this additional cost. With, say, twenty-five hundred of\nthese institutions, each ready and willing to subscribe for one or\nmore copies of any really meritorious book that might appear, its\nsuccess would be assured beyond doubt, the outlay of the publisher\nwould be nearly reimbursed, and his risk, for which all book-buyers\nhave now to pay, would be sensibly and materially diminished if not\naltogether done away with. Thus even individual purchasers as well as\nsubscribers to libraries would be benefited in the reduction of price;\nand, while the bookseller would not suffer in the profits of his\nsales, the general public as well as the author would be sensibly the\ngainers.\n\nAs to what ought to constitute the necleus of a small library, some\ndifficulty may be experienced in diverse tastes and opinions. In view\nof the multiplicity of good books constantly being imported or\npublished in this country, it is nearly impossible to make a list of\nsuch as would be most desirable and useful without leaving out others\nperhaps as equally deserving of attention. Of works of fiction we have\nenough and more than enough in the productions of the authors above\nnamed and others of a less pretentious order, but, as this sort of\nreading is simply a matter of choice, each one must judge for himself\nin the selection.\n\nDevotional and controversial works are numerous, and a few at least,\nsuch as the writings of St. Liguori, Father Faber, Dr. Manning, and\nCardinal Wiseman, the _Guide for Catholic Young Women_, _Following of\nChrist_, _Catholic Christian Instructed_, _Lenten Monitor_, as well as\nseveral others, should be always found in Catholic libraries. In\nhistory, as far as the English language is concerned, we are not so       714\nrich. We have, it is true, four or five histories of Ireland,\npossessing peculiar merits, and exhibiting more or less defects, but\nall full of useful information. Lingard\u2019s _England_, entire or abridged,\nis decidedly the best of that country. Shea\u2019s _History of the Catholic\nMissions in the United States_, McSherry\u2019s _Maryland_, Bishop Bayley\u2019s\n_Church in New York_, McGee\u2019s _Irish Letters_ and _Catholic History_,\nDe Courcey\u2019s and Shea\u2019s _Catholic Church in America_, go far to supply\nthe defect, at least in part. Then there are the _Works of Archbishop\nHughes_, one of the great prelates of the church in America, and the\nwritings of Dr. O. A. Brownson, particularly his _Essays_ and _American\nRepublic_, than whom no man of our day, it is safe to say, writes with\nmore vigor or with a clearer understanding of his subject. The works\nof Bishop England are, we regret to say, too little known, and, being\nfor some time out of print, are now almost unattainable. Darras\u2019s\n_Church History_, the only complete history of the church yet published\nin our language, should, if possible, be read by every Catholic, and\nfind a conspicuous place in all our libraries. _The Lives of Deceased\nPrelates of the United States_, by Clarke, which has just been\npublished, is a very valuable book, containing a great deal of remote\nand contemporary history; and if Mr. Shea could be induced by proper\nencouragement to further develop the subjects he has selected for his\nbooks, as we feel certain of his ability to do so, a great deal of\nadditional matter connected with the struggles and sufferings of the\nearly pioneers of religion, now almost forgotten or unknown, would be\nplaced before the public. In biography, which maybe called history in\ndetail, our resources are abundant. We have, besides numerous lives of\nChrist, a complete _Lives of the Popes_, Butler\u2019s _Lives of the Saints_,\nseveral of St. Patrick, _St. Vincent de Paul, Cur\u00e9 of Ars_, and some\ntwo hundred separate lives of the holy men and women who in every age\nof the church were conspicuous for their sanctity, wisdom, and\ndevotion to the faith, a list of which may be chosen from the\ncatalogue of any of our principal publishers; and last, though not\nleast, is Montalembert\u2019s great work, _The Monks of the West_, an\nAmerican edition of which is just published.\n\nSo far as materials are concerned, we have a plenitude of them of\nevery variety and in all departments of literature, and we have\nendeavored to show that very little money is required to purchase\nthem. What is wanted is organization and action. For these we must\ndepend to a great extent on the local pastors, and on the half a dozen\nleading laymen who are most generally to be found in every\ncongregation. There is a homely proverb, but nevertheless true, that\n\u201cwhat is everybody\u2019s business is nobody\u2019s business.\u201d Let one or two\ninfluential men in each parish think seriously over the matter, call\ntheir associates together, and explain to them the advantages to be\nderived by themselves and their children from cheap and good reading,\ncollect the subscriptions, put themselves in communication with any of\nour Catholic booksellers, and the work is done. The first and most\nimportant step thus taken, the future welfare of the library is\nassured. It is unnecessary to say that such a movement ought to and\nwould receive the warmest encouragement from their spiritual\nsuperiors. Apart from the benefits arising from the reading of moral\nbooks to the cause of religion, the spirit of mutual intercourse,\ninterchange of thought, and friendly co-operation engendered by reading   715\nthe same book, and meeting at stated times for a common object, would\nlead insensibly to the formation of a compact and efficient\norganization, exceedingly useful when the interests of charity,\neducation, or the church are to be subserved. Not only this, but,\nknowing how overtaxed are the attention and time of so many of our\nmissionary priests in providing the means of building churches and\nschools, as well as attending to the spiritual wants of their\nscattered flocks, we consider that an intelligent body of young\npeople, such as we would naturally expect to see connected with a\nlibrary society, would form a valuable lay staff of workers whose\npleasure it would be to aid their pastor in all his material\ntransactions. The more intelligent Catholics become, the less trouble,\nin two ways, they entail on their spiritual guide. They become aware\neasily of his wants, or rather the wants of the church of which he is\nto them the representative, and need little inducement to contribute\ntheir means freely for the benefit of charity or religion, while, at\nthe same time, they make the most efficient agents in influencing the\nactions of others with whom they are daily brought in contact.\n\nFirmly believing that the spread of these societies throughout this\ncountry would have a most marked and beneficent effect, morally and\nmentally, on our rapidly growing Catholic population, we submit these\nremarks to the serious consideration of the reverend clergy, and of\nthose laymen who have been favored with more wealth and a better\neducation than the majority of their fellow-Catholics. We must not\nforget that we live in an age of great mental activity and progress,\nso-called. Let us keep pace with our neighbors in everything that\nleads to the acquisition of true knowledge, but let our progress be in\nthe right direction, and worthy of the name we bear, and of the\nreligion we profess.\n\n\n     [145] _History of the Protestant Reformation._ By the Most\n     Rev. M. J. Spalding, D.D. Baltimore.\n\n     [146] _Mary, Queen of Scots._ By James F. Meline. New York.\n     1871.\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n                         NEW PUBLICATIONS.\n\n\n  THE LIFE OF PHILIP THOMAS HOWARD, O.P., CARDINAL OF NORFOLK, ETC. By\n    Father C. F. Raymond Palmer, O.P. London: Thomas Richardson & Son.\n    New York: The Catholic Publication Society.\n\nIt affords us sincere pleasure to be able to speak of this book in\nterms of unqualified praise, without in the least being subjected to\nthe charge of flattery. The subject chosen by Father Palmer is the\ncareer of an ecclesiastic who not only filled a prominent part in the\nhistory of his times in his native country, England, but of the church\nthroughout Europe; and whose private virtues were even more edifying\nthan his mental capacity was remarkable. The scion of one of the\nnoblest houses in Great Britain, and living at a time when every lure\nwas held out to genius and rank to join the so-called Reformers, he\nnot only remained true to the Catholic traditions of his family, but,\nforsaking the world altogether, he became, in spite of all opposition,\nan humble friar and a follower of the illustrious St. Dominic. His\nlabors for the good of his order on the Continent as well as in\nEngland were incessant, and so successful that in a few years he was      716\nraised to the dignity of a prince of the church. Several times he was\nentrusted with important diplomatic missions by his sovereign, Charles\nII., and for many years occupied the position of grand almoner to\nCatharine of Braganza, the queen-consort. In addition to the biography\nof Cardinal Howard, we have a very full and interesting sketch of the\nhistory of the Dominican order, that glorious corporation of\nfriar-preachers, whose labors extended to every part of the known\nworld, and whose blood may be said to have been shed in the cause of\nChrist wherever the foot of man has trod. Father Palmer\u2019s treatment of\nthe subject is in every way worthy of so great a theme. He does not,\nas too many biographers are apt to do, fall in love with his hero, and\nlose himself in senseless rhapsody and panegyric, but lets deeds and\ntheir results speak for themselves. Neither does he assume for the\norder, of which he himself is a worthy member, too much credit for its\nlong-continued and extensive propagandism of the faith; but, keeping\nhis praise within just bounds, makes the amplest acknowledgment to\nother missionaries when an opportunity offers. The author\u2019s style,\nalso, is admirable. It is plain, bold, and exceedingly clear, and\nreminds us a good deal of the old days of classic English, which, we\nare sometimes tempted to fear, have departed for ever.\n\n\n  SERMONS BY THE FATHERS OF THE CONGREGATION OF ST. PAUL THE APOSTLE.\n    New York: The Catholic Publication Society. 1872. 12mo, pp. 331.\n\nThis, the sixth volume of sermons, twenty-two in number, delivered by\nthe Paulist Fathers of this city, has just been published, and in\npoint of variety, ability, and adaptability to the everyday wants of\nCatholic congregations, may fairly be said to be equal, at least, to\nany of the preceding volumes from the same source. On first reading\nthis valuable collection of sermons, the impression most likely to be\nproduced on a layman is surprise at the remarkable simplicity of\nstyle, earnestness of argument, and, above all, the practical\napplication to the present condition of society, of the inspired texts\nupon which the sermons are based. Men of the most ordinary\ncomprehension can understand them, and we can imagine few minds so\ncontracted or hearts so callous as to be proof against their unadorned\nlogic and impressive appeals. It has sometimes been our good fortune\nto have heard, as we have often read, exhortations of more brilliancy,\npathos, and even intellectual power, but we are not aware that,\ncompressed within the limits of an ordinary-sized book, there is to be\nfound in the English language a greater amount of wholesome truths,\nwell and clearly stated, or better calculated to go directly to the\nheart and conscience of the reader. Of this character pre-eminently\nare the sermons on \u201cHow to Pass a Good Lent,\u201d \u201cHumility in Prayer,\u201d\nand \u201cThe Sins and Miseries of the Dram-Seller.\u201d In some respects the\nlatter differs from all others in the collection--in its forcibleness\nof rhetoric, and vividness, almost painful, of description. Reading it\nin the silence of our library, we almost shudder at the, alas! too\ntruthful picture drawn therein of the drunkard\u2019s fate in this world,\nand the not less certain retribution which awaits his mercenary\ntempter, here or hereafter. It is one of the most powerful arguments\nagainst the use and sale of intoxicating liquors we have read since\nthe days of Father Mathew, and ought to be in the hands of every\nadvocate of temperance, clerical and lay, in the land. The three\nsermons treating of the temporal and spiritual authority of the\nSovereign Pontiff are clear, distinct, and well-timed, and, besides\nbeing historically accurate, are replete with logical deductions, one\nfollowing and hinging on the other so harmoniously that conviction,       717\neven to a biassed mind, seems to follow as a matter of course.\n\nBut on a second and more critical perusal of this book, we are certain\nto discover new and equally commendable features. We feel as if we\nwere in the presence of Catholic priests speaking to their spiritual\nchildren. There is an absence of all harshness or terrorism, and of\nthat bitterness which too often accompanies the discussion of\ncontroversial subjects. While our errors are reproved and our sins\ndenounced, hope and mercy are not denied us; the path of duty is\nplainly pointed out, but we are encouraged to tread its thorny ways,\nand we rise from the study of the _Sermons_ conscious of our faults\nand weaknesses, without despairing, and with a renewed purpose of\namendment. No one can read attentively the first and last of this\nseries, on \u201cRemembrance of Mercies\u201d and \u201cFraternal Charity,\u201d without\nfeeling softened and chastened in spirit. It is not, however, the mere\ncontents of the sermons that we most admire. It is their\nsuggestiveness. To a reflective mind there is matter enough in them to\nform the groundwork of a hundred discourses, and still the subjects\nwould not be exhausted. This feature alone will extend their good\ninfluence far beyond the limits of one book or one pulpit. As we have\ncome to a grand truth boldly stated, or a deduction logically and\nlucidly drawn, we have frequently found ourselves closing the book,\nand, following the drift of the reverend preacher\u2019s argument,\npreaching sermons to ourselves. If such be its effects on ordinary\nminds, how much more valuable will be the uses of this book to the\nyounger members of the priesthood in the performance of the duties of\ntheir holy calling? And it is for them especially, we presume, it is\nintended.\n\nBesides, as we are all aware, there are many persons with the best\ndispositions who, from family or other reasons, are frequently unable\nto hear a sermon on every Sunday and holyday of obligation, not only\nin country parishes, but even in our crowded cities. To this class the\npresent volume ought to be of great value, affording them, as it does,\nan opportunity of reading in the seclusion of their homes, what they\nare debarred from hearing delivered orally. It is one of the rules of\nthe faithful to consecrate a portion of each Sunday to hearing\nsermons, but, when this cannot be done, the reading of pious books is\nsubstituted, and we know of none recently published better calculated\nto edify and instruct a devout Catholic, or one so practical in its\napplication to the wants and necessities of the present generation, as\nthis collection of sermons; and it is for this reason that we heartily\ncommend it to the laity of the United States.\n\n\n  MACARONIC POETRY. Collected, with an Introduction, by James Appleton\n    Morgan, A.M. New York: Hurd & Houghton. 1872.\n\nOf the many excellent specimens of the typography of the Riverside\nPress, the above-named work is one of the handsomest; and this merit\nis enhanced by the fact that the great variety of languages and\ncharacters, ancient and modern, used in its pages called for the best\nefforts of typographical skill and resources.\n\nThe title of the work gives but a modest idea of the wealth and\ndiversity of its contents, which are creditable to the taste and\nindustry of the author. We find in it not only all the most celebrated\nmacaronic masterpieces, from the \u201cPugna Porcorum,\u201d of about three\nhundred lines, every word of which begins with the letter P, thus:\n\n    \u201cPlaudite, Porcelli, Porcorum pigra propago\n     Progreditur, plures Porci pinguedine pleni.\n     Pugnantes pergunt, pecudum pars prodigiosa,\u201d etc., etc.,\n\ndown to Dr. Maginn\u2019s \u201cSecond Ode to Horace,\u201d commencing,\n\n    \u201cBlest man, who far from busy hum,                                    718\n     Ut prisca gens mortalium.\u201d\n\nThen there are the literary trifles of the dipogrammatists and the\npangrammatists, and curiosities in acrostics, telestics, anagrams,\npalindromes, sidonians, rhymed bagatelles, cento verses, chain verses,\nalliterative verses, and epitaphs. There are also some specimens of\nqueer prescriptions, the whole family of which are but imitations of\nthe celebrated recipe pasted on the door of the pharmacy in the\nConvent of the Capuchin Friars at Messina:\n\n    \u201cPro presenti corporis et \u00e6terna anim\u00e6 salute.\n\n                 RECIPE.\n\n           \u201cRadicum fidei\n            Florum spei\n            Rosarum charitatis\n            Liliorum puritatis\n            Absynth\u00e9 contritionis\n            Violarum humilitatis\n            Agarici satisfactionis\n            Ano quantum potes:\n  Misceatur omnia cum syrupe confessionis;\n  Terentur in mortario conscienti\u00e6;\n  Solvantur in aqua lacrymarum;\n  Coquantur in igne tribulationis, et fiat potus.\n  Recipe de hoc mane et sera.\u201d\n\nAny one may find much literary amusement in the volume, and to the\nLatin scholar in particular it affords material for many an hour of\npleasant relaxation.\n\n\n  THE TAKING OF ROME BY THE ITALIAN ARMY, considered in its Causes and\n    Effects. By C. M. Curci, S.J. Translated from the Italian by the\n    Duke Della Torre. New York: D. Appleton & Co. 1871.\n\nIt is a matter of congratulation that we have among us at least one\nItalian gentleman of high rank, character, and education, who is a\nthoroughly loyal and devoted adherent of the Holy See. We are greatly\nindebted to the Duke Della Torre for translating F. Curci\u2019s\n_brochure_, prefixing to it a most sensible and excellent preface,\nand getting it published by our most eminent New York firm. The\npamphlet itself is an able production of an able and celebrated\nwriter. The only great fault in it is the discouraging tone it takes\nregarding the prospects of the temporal sovereignty of the Pope in the\nfuture--a point which has been strongly animadverted upon already in\nEurope. In so far as past facts are concerned, it is a thorough and\nunanswerable exposure of the fraud, violence, and perfidy of the\nSub-Alpine government, and of the treachery and timidity of the policy\nof other European cabinets in their relations with the Pontifical\nStates.\n\n\n  FLORENCE O\u2019NEIL; or, The Siege of Limerick. By Agnes M. Stewart.\n    Baltimore: Kelly, Piet & Co.\n\nThe eventful life and troublous times of James II. of England must\nalways be a period of history mournfully interesting to every Catholic\nheart--those days of persecution, when throughout England a price was\nset upon the head of any priest who dared labor for the salvation of\nsouls, all the penal laws against Catholics (some of them but lately\nrepealed) being in full force.\n\nThe touching story of Florence O\u2019Neil, who is represented as living in\nvery constant intimacy with the royal exiles, carries us through those\ndark days, and gives us pictures of the court of the reprobate,\nhard-hearted daughter of James, where Florence was kept an unwilling\ncaptive for many months. Her journal during that time is written with\ncharming simplicity, and the whole story has sufficient mingling of\ntruth with the narrative to fill us with pity even for those crowned\nheads who lived harassed with anxious fears lest the sceptre so\nhastily and unjustly assumed should be as hastily snatched from their\ngrasp; trusting nobody, never at rest from plottings and replottings\neven in their own household. In contrast with this, we have the\ndevoted domestic life at the Ch\u00e2teau St. Germaine, sketched with a\ndelicate and refined touch, giving us a lovely picture of wedded bliss\nin the union of James with his beautiful and tenderly attached\nwife--more perfect than usually falls to the lot of common mortals,       719\nnot to speak of royalty. It is cheering to know that these good\nhearts, to whom life brought so much disappointment and trouble, found\nrest and peace and hope in the bosom of the church, which offers to\nher faithful children the kingdom of heaven and an imperishable crown.\n_Florence O\u2019Neil_ appears in a beautiful dress, and is well worthy of\ncareful perusal.\n\n\n  THE RISE AND FALL OF THE IRISH FRANCISCAN MONASTERIES, AND MEMOIRS\n    OF THE IRISH HIERARCHY IN THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. By the Rev. C.\n    P. Meehan, M.R.I.A.\n\n  A MEMOIR OF IRELAND, NATIVE AND SAXON. By Daniel O\u2019Connell, M.P.\n    Dublin: James Duffy. New York: The Catholic Publication Society.\n\nThe second edition of these two small works, which have attained a\nwell-deserved popularity in Ireland and England, will doubtless be\nequally appreciated in this country, particularly by our adopted\ncitizens, who, claiming the former nation as their birthplace, love to\nlook back on her past glories and her continuous struggles for civil\nand religious freedom. Father Meehan\u2019s book, though ostensibly\nconfined to the history of the Franciscan establishments and the Irish\nhierarchy, contains also a brief but lucid and well-arranged account\nof the principal events of the seventeenth century in Ireland,\nembracing the wars of the Parliamentarians and Cromwell against the\nNationalists, and the inception of the contest between the partisans\nof William and James. On such subjects Mr. Meehan is a reliable and\njudicious authority, for he has made them the study of a life-time. We\nremember him fully a quarter of a century ago, when curate of SS.\nMichael and John\u2019s Church, Dublin, and when every moment that he could\nspare legitimately from the duties of his calling was devoted to his\nloved studies--the history and arch\u00e6ology of his native land; and we\nare happy to find that time has neither quenched the fire of his\npatriotism nor weakened that mental activity which characterized his\nearlier works.\n\nO\u2019Connell\u2019s memoir, like everything that fell from the pen or lips of\nthat great agitator, is full of vigor and sound logic. A portion of\nthe book is devoted to a general summary of the wrongs and struggles\nof the Irish race from the invasion in 1172 down to our day, but the\ngreater part is occupied by historical quotations and running\ncommentaries, illustrating that long, dreary period of war,\ndesolation, and persecution. Though in fact contained in a\ncomparatively small compass, it is a masterly indictment against\nEngland, prepared with all the system and acumen of an able jurist,\nand is invaluable as a historical document from the number of\nreferences it contains. It was only issued towards the close of the\ngreat author\u2019s career, and may be supposed to be an epitome of his\nvaried readings and long personal experience.\n\n\n  THE PEARL OF ANTIOCH: A Picture of the East at the End of the Fourth\n    Century. By the Abb\u00e9 Bayle. Baltimore: Kelly, Piet & Co. 1871.\n\nIn the preface to this interesting story of the early times, we have a\nbright and truthful comment on the different claims of works of\nfiction that have been written to make religion attractive: giving to\nCardinal Wiseman (what rightfully belongs to him) the glory of having\nbeen the author of the truly Christian romance in the fascinating\nnarrative of _Fabiola_. The writer of _The Pearl of Antioch_ professes\nto follow at a modest distance that illustrious dignitary of the\nchurch. He gives us in the story of Pelagia a graphic description of\nlife in Antioch, Alexandria, and Constantinople at the close of the\nfourth century, when the church, resting from the fierce persecutions\nthat had marked her earlier years, was surrounded with master-minds\nwho committed themselves to no religion, condemning none formally,        720\nendeavoring to possess at the same time the esteem of both Christians\nand pagans. The delineation of the vacillating spirit of many of the\nfinest intellects among the Greeks, their proud, patronizing ways\ntowards God\u2019s church, cannot but remind the careful reader of the\nposition of many of the so-called _intellectual giants_ of to-day.\n\nThe multiplicity of characters introduced, and the demand for\nmythological research which is necessary to make the story clear in\nall its parts, are rather detrimental to the unity of the tale;\nnevertheless, the story of Pelagia herself, and Nicephorus her lover,\nwith their remarkable conversion and subsequent abandonment of the\nworld, is very touching, and wrought out with simplicity and\nearnestness--the wonderful faith of Pelagia contrasting with the\ncriticisms and doubts, and the ingenious hypotheses of Hypatia, whose\nstrange life and fearful death have been the comment of historian and\nnovelist.\n\nThe book contains many pages full of interest concerning Simon\nStylites and the wonders of his life, besides several chapters devoted\nto charming descriptions of the monks who flocked in those times to\nmonasteries in the deserts of Nitria and Tabenna, along the borders of\nthe Nile, and even to Mount Sinai. One of the most attractive features\nof the volume will be found in the delightful conversations of these\nmonks, enlivened with legends of those olden times, and pervaded\nthroughout with a lovely, Christ-like spirit, which makes their\nreligion an object of admiration even to the wise pagans around them.\n\n\n  JAPAN IN OUR DAY. Compiled and arranged by Bayard Taylor. New York:\n    Charles Scribner & Co. 1872. 1 vol. 12mo.\n\nThis is the first volume of the _Illustrated Library of Travel,\nExploration, and Adventure_, now in course of publication by Messrs.\nScribner, & Co. and edited by Bayard Taylor. To those who take an\ninterest in Japanese affairs the volume will prove interesting, as\ncontaining the latest information with regard to that country so long\nalmost unknown.\n\n\n  SADLIERS\u2019 CATHOLIC DIRECTORY, ALMANAC, AND ORDO FOR THE YEAR OF OUR\n    LORD 1872. With full Report of the various Dioceses in the United\n    States and British North America, and a List of the Archbishops,\n    Bishops, and Priests in Ireland. New York: D. & J. Sadlier & Co.,\n    31 Barclay Street.\n\nThe _Almanac_ for this year has appeared. The sewing, type, and paper\nare much better than in former years. There are not so many mistakes\nin this as we noticed in the previous volume. We are aware there are\nmany difficulties connected with the publication of a statistical work\nwhich nothing but the utmost patience and perseverance will overcome,\nand are therefore pleased to notice even slight improvements.\n\n\n  THE AMERICAN HOME BOOK OF IN-DOOR GAMES, AMUSEMENTS, AND OCCUPATIONS.\n    By Mrs. Caroline L. Smith (Aunt Carrie). Illustrated. Boston: Lee &\n    Shepard. New York: Lee, Shepard & Dillingham. 1872.\n\nThis book is one of the best of its kind. The selection of games,\namusements, etc., is very good, and the directions given in regard to\nthem are short, simple, and clear. It cannot fail to add to the\nhappiness of any home it may enter.\n\n\n  THE WONDERS OF WATER. From the French of Gaston Tissandier. Edited,\n    with numerous Additions, by Schele De Vere, D.D., LL.D. New York:\n    Charles Scribner & Co. 1872. 1 vol. 12mo.\n\nA most interesting and useful little volume, containing valuable\ninformation in regard to the uses of water, the history of artesian\nwells, ancient and modern water-works, etc., etc. The book is\nelegantly got up and well illustrated.\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n                                THE                                       721\n\n                          CATHOLIC WORLD.\n\n                  VOL. XIV., No. 84.--MARCH, 1872.\n\n     Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1872, by\n  REV. I. T. HECKER, in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at\n                         Washington, D. C.\n\n\n\n\n                        AN UNCIVIL JOURNAL.\n\n\nThe activity and universality of the American press are proverbial.\nLeaving out of sight the innumerable political organs which dabble in\neverything, there is not a department of human knowledge, not a\nrecognized theological creed, not a leading foreign nationality, not a\nprominent _ism_ of the day, that has not its daily or weekly to\nrepresent it. And they all speak and investigate with unlimited\nfreedom. The race of Robert Burns\u2019s \u201cchiel\u201d who was \u201ctakin\u2019 notes\u201d has\nbeen multiplied until they here outnumber the sands on the sea-shore.\nNothing escapes them. All shortcomings of whatever origin are certain\nof detection by some of them, and they are not restrained by any false\nmodesty from instant proclamation thereof. Everybody is held\naccountable to everybody else. Republicans and Democrats keep up\npermanent mutual inquisition, Protection and Free-trade spy out each\nother\u2019s defects, and rival sects seem firmly to believe in the\nchastening influence of announcement of their neighbors\u2019 faults.\n\nMore than any of these, more than all put together, is Catholicity in\nthe United States subjected to the most ceaseless and penetrating\nsurveillance. The curiosity prompting this surveillance is sometimes\nfriendly, but generally the reverse. English literature, essentially\nanti-Catholic and bigoted, has made its mark upon American education,\nand with many people the intolerant falsehood of much English history\nstill passes for truth. So-called religious (Protestant) papers are\nnever at a loss for a leader topic--\u201cAbuse the Catholics.\u201d Protestant\nministers find heads of discourse always ready in anti-Popery\nadmonitions. We personally know many excellent men among them who\nconscientiously strive to do their duty as they understand it, and are\nabove such wrong; but there are large numbers of Poundtexts and\nBrandlighters, obscure in position, of uncertain education and\nwretchedly paid, who make of \u201cPopery\u201d a stalking-horse, and seek to\nfill their empty pews and depleted pockets with the fruits of\nanti-Popery excitement. Added to such editors and such preachers as we\ndescribe, there is a small army of literary and theological stragglers,   722\nbummers, and disgraced deserters hovering on the rear of these regular\nforces, always in the field with lectures, pamphlets, keys to Popery,\nhorrible disclosures, and all the pestilent riff-raff of anti-Catholic\nliterature. One would think the Protestant army of observation on such\na footing sufficiently well-organized, active, and effective to guard\nthe walls of the American Zion and sound a timely alarm.\n\nBut the publishing firm of Messrs. Harper & Brothers is not of that\nopinion, and they appear to have discovered that it is their duty\nto take under their special protection and keeping the public\nschools, the Bible, the Protestant religion, and the liberties of\nAmerica;--thus demonstrating the wretched incapacity and utter failure\nof our civil authorities, our religious press, and the Protestant\nministry to do their plainest duty. The gentlemen in question publish,\nhere in New York, _Harper\u2019s Monthly Magazine_, and a hebdomadal called\n_Harper\u2019s Weekly: A Journal of Civilization_. These periodicals\ncontain a variety of light literature, papers on current topics,\npoetry, anecdotes, and highly-flavored anti-Popery articles. Besides\nthese last, the _Weekly_ generally has one or more caricatures\ncalculated to disseminate the worst falsehoods, and to excite hatred\ntowards Catholics and contempt for their religion.\n\nFor years past, a constantly recurring subject of its most offensive\nform of caricature has been the person of the venerable Pontiff Pius\nIX. It is difficult to conceive how any man of even ordinary instincts\nof propriety--we care not what his religious prejudices might\nbe--could have for this revered personage any feeling but one of\nprofound respect. An aged bishop, fourscore years of age, whose\npurity of character is without speck or stain, whose long life has\nbeen one of labor and usefulness, piety and virtue, beginning his\nsacerdotal career as a missionary in a foreign land, then serving\nfaithfully as the director of charitable institutions and hospitals,\nwhose first acts of power were those of benevolence and universal\namnesty, toward whom, on the part of the tens of thousands of\nProtestants who have seen and spoken with him, no sentiments but those\nof profound admiration and veneration are ever expressed--such a\ncharacter as this is selected by the _Journal of Civilization_ as the\nfavorite butt of its indecent ribaldry.\n\nWe here leave entirely out of sight all consideration of the question\nof outrage upon the religious sensibilities of millions of Catholics\nin the United States, and place the judgment of the offence upon the\nbroad ground of civilized propriety. The men who perpetrate this\noutrage seek to justify themselves on the plea that it is as king or\ntemporal sovereign of Rome they caricature him. Their offence is\naggravated by so flimsy and paltry a pretext. The merits of the\ndisputes among the monarchs of Europe do not concern us here in\nAmerica to that extent, and if they did, as a question of monarchical\nright and precedence of seniority, the kings and emperors of Europe\nare all new-comers and upstarts by the side of the Roman Pontiff.\n\nWhile these caricatures are essentially addressed to a sentiment of\nreligious bigotry, their authors seek, by the false association of\nsome political idea, not only to excuse them on that ground, but to\nreinforce that bigotry with all the strength of political hatred.\nTake, for instance, the filthy crocodile picture. There is an appeal\nwhose falsity is only exceeded by its beastliness. Then the \u201cRoman        723\nCatholic mission from England to the heathens of America\u201d (_Weekly_,\nDec. 30, 1871), in which the pure Christian, the devoted\nphilanthropist, the perfect gentleman--Most Rev. Archbishop\nManning--is portrayed with iron shackles in his hand, which he holds\nconcealed behind him, striving to entice the negroes to come to him;\nto whom a negro replies (so naturally!): \u201cNo, thank you. We have just\nbeen emancipated, and, if England is responsible for slavery in the\nUnited States, I don\u2019t care to jump from the English frying-pan into\nthe English fire.\u201d\n\nThe favorite device of the _Weekly_ gentlemen is to represent the\nperpetrators of offences against law and order, and the participators\nin municipal robbery and corruption, as Catholics, and, in their\npersons, to hold the Catholic Church responsible for such offences. It\nis not necessary to dwell on the absurdity of such a charge, nor on\nthe hardship and injustice of such a responsibility.\n\nThere are thousands of men in this city, supposed to be Catholics--nay,\nwho, if asked the question, will say that they are--who have not been\ninside of a Catholic Church nor spoken to a priest for long years, men\nwhose lives are scandalous in their irregularities and crimes. Such as\nthese bring disgrace upon the church whose precepts they trample under\nfoot. If arrested for violation of the laws of the land, we sincerely\ntrust they may have legally meted out to them the fullest measure of\npunishment. The properly constituted authorities will have our thanks\nfor so doing. The _Weekly_ writers are ignorant of much that touches\nCatholic faith and practice, but they are not ignorant of the fact\nthat the custom among Protestant churches of considering as members\nthose only who make avowed profession, and live up to the requirements\nof strict church membership, does not prevail in the Catholic Church.\nThe difference with us is between _practical_ Catholics and those who,\nneglecting their religious duties, live in sin; and we state with\nprofound regret that the number of this latter class is very much\nlarger than any one who loves his church cares to see.\n\nBut it is all the same thing to the Harper scribes, and the\nindifferent Catholic, the bad Catholic, the Catholic who is a scandal\nto his church, is a \u201cgood enough Morgan\u201d for our _Weekly_, which\nconstantly represents him as an active and devout member of the\nchurch, in direct communication with the Holy See. How if a similar\nrule were to be applied generally, and we should in every case of\nmoral dereliction seek out the sect with which the sinner has some\nreal or supposed affiliation, and charge the crime upon the religious\nteachings of that sect?\n\nIs the Presbyterian Church to be made responsible for New York\nmunicipal defalcations because connection with them is charged on the\nPresbyterian, Mayor Hall? Is the Methodist Church answerable for\nTammany frauds because Tweed is a Methodist? Let us suppose for a\nmoment a man so devoid of all sense and decency as to compile a\nnarrative of crimes and outrages perpetrated by people known to be\nMethodists, beginning years back with the well-known (Avery-Cornell)\nseduction and murder case in which a Methodist minister was the\ncriminal, and coming down past the scandalous publication by Methodist\nprinters of the infamous book of Maria Monk, to the late horrible\nstory, in a Western city, of torture through long years of an\nunoffending child by its unnatural Methodist parents, to the shameful     724\nmalversations of a religious Book Concern, to the gigantic thefts in\nour city administration, to the Drew complication of the Erie\nabomination, which shines by its absence in all the late _Harper_\nchronicles; and, having completed his catalogue, to present and\ndenounce these crimes as the legitimate result of the teachings of the\nMethodist Church. It would be waste of words to point out the false\nreasoning, the injustice, the malice of such a performance. For,\nhowever Christian sects may differ on doctrinal points, and whatever\nmay be alleged as to the extent of their theological errors, none of\nthem deliberately teach immorality, and all inculcate the precepts of\nthe decalogue.\n\nWhat, then, shall be thought of a journal which, week after week,\nloudly and persistently, not only accuses the Catholic Church in the\npersons of her ministers of teaching the most flagrant immorality, but\nseeks--coupling with this grave charge the imputation of striving to\ncreate civil discord--by every artifice of rhetoric, by every device\nof exaggeration, by every appeal of gross caricature, to arouse the\nwildest passions and the fiercest bigotry? The journal in question\nlabors to stir up, and it does stir up, bad blood and hot strife among\nhitherto peaceful neighbors.\n\nThe charge is a serious one, and we make it knowingly. Instances and\nillustrations in its support may be found in nearly all the numbers of\nthe _Weekly_ for years past.\n\nFor its anti-Catholic operations, the _Journal_ is used as a sort of\ntender to the heavy transport, the _Monthly_, which frequently gives\nits readers long, elaborate, and malicious articles, made up mainly of\nexploded calumnies, threadbare anti-Popery rhetoric of the school of\nBrownlee and the early Know-Nothings, and the extraordinary\nlucubrations of a contributor whom we can only describe as Harper\u2019s\ncomic historian. This singular writer undertakes to demonstrate, for\ninstance, that the Apostle of Ireland was not a Catholic missionary at\nall, but in religious faith a sort of Old-School Presbyterian, who\nwent about distributing Bibles among the \u201csavage Irish,\u201d making strong\n\u201canti-Popery\u201d speeches, and delivering lectures on popular education\nto the serfs of his day!\n\nAbsurd as these articles are from a literary point of view, they are\nyet full of inflammable material, and play as recklessly with fire as\nthe more brutal incentives of the _Weekly_. For it must be borne in\nmind that most of these direct appeals to religious bigotry are\nintended not so much for home consumption as for their effect upon the\ngeneral rural mind, and that their evident purpose is to arouse\nanother Know-Nothing revival throughout the country.\n\nThere are, unfortunately, too many people thoughtless enough, or,\nperhaps, wicked enough, to respond to these incentives--people so far\nforgetting themselves as to imagine that their own religion, or\nsomething which they imagine stands for it, must be the state church\nin America, and that it is free to them to persecute and outlaw the\nprofessors of a faith which, in their ignorance, they despise and\nhate.\n\nBut we are satisfied that, on the other hand, there is too much\nintelligence, moderation, forbearance, and patriotism among American\ncitizens to permit the success of schemes aimed at once against\nliberty of conscience, the peace of society, and the true freedom of\nour institutions.\n\nAnd among these citizens we rank--by no means the last--the\n\n\n                  CATHOLICS OF THE UNITED STATES.                         725\n\nWe can only qualify as impertinent the coolness with which these\nscribes of the Messrs. Harper talk about \u201creceiving\u201d Catholics\n\u201chospitably into this free Protestant land.\u201d When and how were these\ngentlemen constituted the dispensers of the hospitalities of this free\ncountry? When and how did this country become a \u201cProtestant land\u201d? At\nwhat period of the history of America were Catholics strangers here?\n\nUnder somewhat similar provocation, the great Montalembert, from the\ntribune in the Chamber of Peers, told certain Frenchmen: \u201cWe are the\nsons of the Crusaders, and we fear not the progeny of Voltaire.\u201d And\nwe, Catholics of the United States, say to these gentlemen who seek to\ninaugurate another Know-Nothing campaign, that here in America we are\nneither strangers nor new-comers of yesterday.\n\nWe came in the caravels of Columbus, we came with the Cartiers and the\nLa Salles, the Br\u00e9b\u0153ufs and the Jogues, the Joliets and the\nMarquettes, with the men whose blood of martyrdom moistened the soil\nof New York, with the men whose bones had mingled with the savannas of\nthe South and the prairies of the West long before Plymouth Rock was\nheard of. We came--not with the Hessians of George--but with the army\nof Rochambeau and the fleet of De Grasse, with the arms of Catholic\nFrance and the gold of Catholic Spain, to aid our American struggle\nfor liberty. The largest fortune risked in signing our Declaration of\nIndependence was a Catholic fortune. As Catholics, we have proved our\ndevotion to our country in three wars. The ranks of our army and the\nships of our navy are full of our people, and if, at this moment, you\nundertake to blot the names of Catholic officers from naval and army\nregisters, you will be compelled to deface entire pages. We are of all\nthe walks of life, from the humblest to the highest, pursuing our\nlegitimate business, and fulfilling our duties as citizens, fathers,\nhusbands, sons, and brothers. We have schools, seminaries, and\ncolleges successfully active, increasing in number and usefulness, and\nonly not entirely filled with Catholic pupils because of the great\nnumber of youths sent to them by non-Catholic parents. We are\nmerchants, bankers, editors, clerks, mechanics, artists, farmers,\nlawyers, physicians, legislators, and laborers. We fill professors\u2019\nchairs and seats on the judicial bench. We have among us thousands of\ncultivated men and refined and elegant women, the peers of any in the\nland. We are, as a body, good and law-abiding citizens. We respect\nourselves. We mean to be respected. And we protest against the bigoted\nand senseless denunciation and caricature of our faith in the\npretended exposure of fictitious plots against the institutions and\nliberties of our country.\n\nThere exists evidently, among the Know-Nothing writers referred to,\nsome faint appreciation of these facts, and, with labored display of\npoliteness, they seek to turn the difficulty by reference to\n\u201crespectable citizens,\u201d appeals to \u201cintelligent Romanists\u201d (thus\ndesignating us, in their clumsy courtesy, by a nickname), and such\ndeclarations as \u201cwe do not in any just sense accuse all adherents of\nthat church of hostility to our institutions\u201d (\u201c_our_ institutions!\u201d)\nWe distinctly decline to accept any such qualification or apology. So\nfar as our religion is concerned, we are all, lettered and unlettered,\nrich and poor, on a footing of perfect equality. The lady in the          726\nparlor and the servant in her kitchen abide by the same religious\nobservances, the rich banker and his poorest clerk hold precisely the\nsame faith, and the wealthy merchant and his drayman out there in the\nstreet, kneel at the same altar. We are aware that all this is\n\u201chorridly ungenteel,\u201d but it is an old habit of our people. Eighteen\nhundred years ago and more, we were assured that the poor we have\nalways. And we have them. They never leave us, and are not likely to.\nPoor-houses came in with the Reformation, and then poverty first\nbecame disgraceful. For poverty, and, yet more, for the shame of\npoverty, the needy and wretched cannot enter elegant Protestant\nconventicles.\n\nAnd now that we have seen the nature and complexion of the attempted\nrevival of Know-Nothing violence, it may be asked, Who are the men who\npromote it, creating prejudice, fostering bigotry, inflaming religious\nrancor, arraying neighbor against neighbor, and endangering the peace\nof the community? Have they a special mission from on high? Are their\nscribes inspired writers? Or, perchance, are the antecedents of those\npublishers and proprietors such as to have established a character for\npure patriotism and disinterested virtue so pre-eminently superior as\nto authorize them to set themselves up the self-constituted guardians\nof American liberty and evangelical Christianity?\n\nWe propose to examine these questions in the light of the printed\nrecord of the responsible proprietors of the _Journal of Civilization_.\nTo that printed record we shall strictly confine ourselves. And in\ntaking the first step toward the fulfilment of our duty, we regret\nthat circumstances will compel the revelation of some\n\n\n                         AWFUL DISCLOSURES.\n\nThe excitement and violent denunciation of Catholicity produced many\nyears ago by the publication of an infamous book said to have been\nwritten by one Maria Monk are still remembered among us, as well as\nthe thorough exposure of its utter falsehood, made by Colonel Stone of\nNew York, and other Protestant gentlemen.\n\nThe book was entitled _The Awful Disclosures of Maria Monk_, and from\nits title-page purported to be published by _Howe and Bates_. Howe and\nBates! Who were Howe and Bates? There was none to make reply. For\nneither to the book trade nor in the flesh were \u201cHowe and Bates\u201d ever\nknown of mortal man.\n\nAs to the character of the book in question, we are further enlightened\nby the author of a work entitled \u201c_Protestant Jesuitism_, by a\nProtestant,\u201d published by the Harpers in 1838. At page 34 of the book,\nMaria Monk\u2019s work is described as \u201cone of the most arrant fictions\nthat was ever palmed upon the community,\u201d and the author adds: \u201cThe\npeople of this land--and it is the common attribute of human\nnature--love excitement, and unfortunately there are those who know\nhow to produce it, and profit by it.\u201d Unfortunate, indeed, it is that\nthere are those who stand ready to profit by foul slander and\nmalignant falsehood concerning their neighbor. Unfortunate, indeed,\nthat men can be found who, for the sake of a few dollars, could\nconsent to spread, broadcast upon the world, printed vilification and\noutrage of noble, pure-minded women, who, solely for the love of God\nand out of their own abundant charity, devote their lives to\nalleviating the sufferings of the needy, the afflicted, and the sick.\nWho are they who profited by it? If we can obtain a satisfactory          727\nanswer to that question, we may probably be far on the way toward\nsolving the mystery which hovers over the existence of \u201cHowe and\nBates.\u201d\n\nMaria Monk\u2019s disclosures were not all made in the book published by\nthat somewhat nebulous firm. The most \u201cawful\u201d of all her \u201cawful\ndisclosures\u201d were made in the dignified form of a bill in equity which\nshe filed against her publishers, who, by their own admissions and\ndeclarations, turn out to be not \u201cHowe and Bates,\u201d who from this\nmoment for ever disappear from view, but Messrs. James, John, Joseph\nW., and Fletcher Harper.\n\nThe bill filed for discovery and account against the defendants as\nbooksellers and publishers by Maria Monk, a minor, through her next\nfriend, shows that complainant was authoress of a work which she had\ncopyrighted and stereotyped, and that said stereotype plates were paid\nfor by her with money belonging to her, and that she was liable for\nany balance unpaid; that after the copyright had been so taken out,\nthe said plates got into the possession of the defendants, and that\nthey had published the work under the title of \u201c_Awful Disclosures of\nMaria Monk_, as exhibited in a narrative of her sufferings during a\nresidence of five years as a novice, and two years as a black nun, in\nthe H\u00f4tel Dieu at Montreal.\u201d Further, that she was a minor, was\nentirely unacquainted with the modes of doing business, that she\nbelieved that persons professing to be her friends had made some\nbargains for her in relation to said work, that this was known to the\ndefendants, and yet they pretended to take out another copyright of\nthe same work in the District of Massachusetts, and published a large\nnumber of impressions from the plates, and issued the book; and that\nthey had large profits in their hands which belonged to the\ncomplainant.\n\nPrayer that the said James, John, Joseph W., and Fletcher Harper make\nfull statement, etc., and deliver over all sums of money and property,\nwith account of sales and amount received for same.\n\nWe have had occasion to see that the proprietors of the _Journal of\nCivilization_ are fiercely patriotic. And they were so, long before\nthat civilizing journal was founded. Their first impulse on receiving\na copy of this latest \u201cawful disclosure\u201d by Maria Monk was an impulse\nof patriotism, of indignation that a foreigner should presume to\nexpect copyright protection in the United States. Thrice is he armed\nwho has statutory law, patriotism, and an act of Congress upon which\nto fall back, and the defendants, in such panoply as that, straightway\nfiled a demurrer.[147] Maria Monk\u2019s copyright was first issued and had\nprecedence of seniority, but respondents demurred, first and\nprincipally, on the ground that \u201cthe complainant did not show herself\nto be a citizen entitled to take out a copyright.\u201d The demurrer also\nset up other matters in avoidance.\n\nIn deciding the case, the Vice-Chancellor closed the delivery of his\nopinion by saying: \u201cIt [the bill] does not show any privity of\ncontract or dealing between the parties; no agreement expressed or\nimplied by which the defendants can be held to account to the\ncomplainant for the profits of the work. It rather shows that, by fraud   728\nor wrong, the defendants obtained possession of the stereotype plates,\nand, altering the title of the book to that of _Awful Disclosures_,\netc., published it in defiance of her rights. If she has sustained\nloss by such conduct of the defendants, she must persuade a jury to\ngive her compensation in a verdict of damages against them, when,\nperhaps, the merits of her _Awful Disclosures_ and _Nunnery Unveiled,\nand the motives of those who have promoted and prompted the_\npublication, will duly be considered.\u201d\n\nDemurrer sustained, and bill dismissed at costs of complainant.\n\nAll of which, and more, may be found in _Edwards\u2019s Chancery Reports_,\nvol. iii., p. 109.\n\n\n                         PAST AND PRESENT.\n\nWithin the past twelve years, a new generation of readers has grown up\nin the United States--a generation far outnumbering its predecessor,\nand the circulation of the journal published by the Harper Brothers\nhas increased immensely. The great body of its readers of to-day are\nprofoundly impressed with a sense of its unvarying and undying\npatriotism, and it probably never occurs to the soldier who, when a\nmere boy, shouldered his musket in defence of the Union, that his now\nfuriously patriotic _Harper\u2019s Weekly_ was originally, and as long as\nit was found to pay, the advocate of secession and the apologist of\nslavery. How sadly true this is, we propose to show by presenting the\nresults of our examination into\n\n\n                 THE JOURNAL IN THE HOUR OF TRIAL.\n\nOn opening the volume of the _Weekly_ for the year 1861, we felt quite\nconfident of finding an admirably executed full-length picture of the\nthen President-elect of the United States, and confess to some\ndisappointment when, instead thereof, occupying the entire first page,\nwe discover portraits of \u201cThe Georgia Delegation in Congress,\u201d\nfollowed by sketches highly laudatory of the seven gentlemen composing\nthe delegation. The same number makes calm and commentless record of\n\u201cThe South Carolina Proclamation of Independence,\u201d and the spread of\nsecession through the South.\n\n_January 12, 1861._--Under the heading \u201cThe Great Southern Movement,\u201d\nthe publishers \u201cbeg to draw attention to the following list of\nillustrations of the _Pending Revolution_,\u201d such unseemly words as\nrebellion and treachery being left to the unprincipled Abolition\npapers of that day. In the same number we have \u201cThe Revolution at\nCharleston\u201d in cuts of \u201cAnderson at Sumter\u201d and \u201cThe Charleston\nMilitia taking Fort Pickens\u201d--thus making a nice balance. Doubtless\nthe Lincoln portrait will come in our next number.\n\nWhy, what are these? Portraits and laudatory notices of Governor\nPickens, Honorable Judge McGrath, and \u201cRev. Dr. Bachman, who asked a\nblessing on the Secession Ordinance,\u201d the signing of which, according\nto the fervid account cited from a Charleston paper, was a scene\n\u201cprofoundly grand and impressive\u201d; there were \u201cpatriarchs in age--the\ndignitaries of the land--the high-priests of the church of\nChrist--reverend statesmen--and wise judges of the law\u201d--in the midst\nof whom \u201cthe President advanced with the consecrated parchment\u201d--which\nholy document was the ordinance of secession. We continue turning leaf\nafter leaf with but slight edification--Skating Park--Old\nFashions--Humors of the Day--Rarey the Horse Tamer--Love Story--etc.      729\nPleasant reading for people sitting over a volcano.\n\n_January 26_ gives us \u201cThe Prayer at Sumter,\u201d a drop of mournful\ncomfort. Then an editorial, \u201cWANTED, A CAPITAL.\u201d It opens\nimpressively: \u201c_Some practical people, viewing the dissolution of the\nUnion as a fixed fact_,[148] and assuming that all or nearly all the\nBorder States will go with their Southern slave sisters, are already\ncasting about in search of a new capital.\u201d The vigorous patriotism of\nthis idea is strengthened by a sweet allegory, in a column of small\ntype, entitled \u201cJohn Ardens and James Placens.\u201d You see the delicate\njoke in the mild Latin? Ardens is a fiery fellow, who absurdly insists\non having what he is entitled to. Placens is a gentleman, a practical\nphilosopher, who very sensibly submits to any imposition on pocket or\nprinciple for the sake of peace. The placid moral is, \u201cIn things\nindifferent yield rather than quarrel.\u201d Logically enough, two pages\nfurther on we have \u201cThe Firing on the Star of the West,\u201d as a mere\npassing incident of the day. Meantime Fort Sumter does heavy duty on\nthe illustrated pages, and is served up without intermission, from\nsea, from land, by day, by night, _en barbette_, _en c\u00f4telette_, and\nin every other conceivable way.\n\n_February 2, 1861._--Another grand page of portraits--not of Lincoln\nand Seward, but of \u201cThe Seceding Mississippi Delegation in Congress,\u201d\nfollowed by a page in small type of fulsome praise of the seven\nmembers--Jefferson Davis, Brown, Barksdale, Lamar, R. Davis,\nSingleton, and McRae. With the praise we also have copious and labored\narguments for slavery and secession, thus: \u201cPersonally, Senator Davis\nis the Bayard of Congress, _sans peur et sans reproche_; a finished\nscholar; a high-minded gentleman; a devoted father; a true friend. He\nis emphatically one of those \u2018born to command,\u2019 and is doubtless\n_destined to occupy a high position either in the Southern Confederacy\nor in the United States_.\u201d On which we would merely remark that as to\nthe non-fulfilment of this prophecy there has been some disappointment\nin the first-named country, and great dissatisfaction in the second.\nThis Mississippi article closes with the assurance from one of the\nseven that slavery is not only national, but \u201ca universal institution\nof God and man, nature and Christianity, earth and heaven--having its\norigin in the law of God, sustained by the Bible, sustained by\nChristianity,\u201d etc., etc.\n\nWe continue turning the leaves. And now that we have had quite enough\nof \u201cthe Seceding Delegations,\u201d we naturally hope that room may be\nfound for a portrait of the President-elect. At page 76 we come to\n\u201cPortrait of the South Carolina Minister of War,\u201d which is not the\nobject of our search.\n\n_February 9._--What, again? \u201cTHE SECEDING ALABAMA DELEGATION IN\nCONGRESS.\u201d A full-page of portraits of nine gentlemen who do not look\nat all amiable. Following this comes the regulation two and a half\ncolumns of praise in small type, interspersed with extracts from their\nspeeches. Of one of these delegates--a party by the name of Curry--we\nare assured that\n\n     \u201cNature has endowed him with a mind so active that he can\n     apparently discover, by a glance so rapid as to seem intuition,\n     those truths which common capacities struggle hard to comprehend,\n     while his genius enables him to enforce by argument, and his\n     accomplishments to illustrate, those topics upon which he            730\n     addresses the House.\u201d\n\nNaturally enough follows, on page 88, a View of the City of Montgomery,\nshowing the state-house where \u201cTHE CONGRESS OF THE SOUTHERN CONFEDERACY\nMEETS.\u201d\n\n_February 16, 1861._--Concerning so-called stay-laws passed in the\nSouth, which were at the time generally understood to mean practical\nrepudiation of mercantile debts due to the North, hark how sweetly\nsings the Northern secession siren with elaborate Harp accompaniment:\n\u201cWe trust that our Southern friends will believe that we have no\npartisan purpose in view if we direct their attention to the fatal\nconsequences of the stay-laws, etc., etc. For many years our Southern\nStates have enjoyed first-rate credit, both at the North and abroad.\nSouthern obligations have always been preferred in New York to\nobligations from the East or West.... Southern men have been\nconsidered here as good under all circumstances. Their honor has been\nrelied on to any extent. _Houses which would not trust Western or\nEastern dealers a hundred dollars have been delighted to give credits\nof thousands to Southerners._ The simple reason was that people have\nhad an undying faith in the honor of the Southern people--a firm\nconviction that under no circumstances would they seek to evade\npayment of their debts.\u201d And here the siren\u2019s song is broken by a gush\nof tears--\u201cIs this faith, is this conviction to be demolished now by\nthe passage of stay-laws?\u201d Then follow the perennial \u201cView of Sumter,\u201d\ndouble-page Paris fashions, etc., until we reach (p. 109) Views of the\n\u201cMint and the New Custom House,\u201d New Orleans, \u201cof which the United\nStates have had only a brief occupancy\u201d--\u201cboth of which have been\nseized by the state authorities.\u201d There is no comment on this\n\u201cseizure\u201d by the state authorities, but more than three months\nafterward we shall find \u201ccivilization\u201d waking up in wrath and\nfulminating thus: \u201cAll that the rebels of New Orleans wanted when they\nstole the mint was to be let alone.\u201d In this same number (p. 112) we\nhave the sneering caricature of the calamity of the country which at\nthe time afforded the enemies of the American Union exquisite delight\nand \u201cprolonged shouts of laughter.\u201d It is entitled \u201c_The Crippled\nAmerican Eagle, the Cock, and the Lion_.\u201d To the eagle, dilapidated,\nlame, and on crutches: \u201cLION.--Why, Brother Jonathan, you don\u2019t\nlook so fierce as you used. How about the Monroe Doctrine now?\nCOCK.--Yes, my good Jonathan, what you tink of PRIVATEERING under de\npresent circumstance?\u201d\n\nAt last, in the number of February 23, we reach portraits of\n\u201cPresident and Vice-President\u201d--what? surely we must be mistaken!\nNo--the print is very clear in its large capitals--\u201cOf the Southern\nConfederacy.\u201d And very good portraits they are, too, but not of the\nPresident and Vice-President we were expecting to see. The number of\nMarch 2 gives us a full-page woodcut of \u201cThe President-elect\nAddressing the People.\u201d The \u201cpeople\u201d are represented by twenty-six\nhats and the scanty outlines of eleven men, but in compensation we\nhave a thrilling view of two gigantic lamp-posts, and, in exaggerated\ndisproportion, the pillars of the balcony over the centre of whose\nsummit appears the upper half of a small, lean figure supposed to be\nthat of A. Lincoln. This is somewhat disappointing, but, by way of\nconsolation, the next page enlightens us on the subject of patriotism:\n\u201cThis subject of patriotism is in a fair way of being more thoroughly     731\nventilated than it ever was before. Everybody appears to admit that\npatriotism is a virtue, and that a man should love his country. But\nthe question arises at every corner, What is our country?\u201d The topic\nis illustrated by watery hypotheses from Smith, Jones, and Thomson,\nand the editor adds some strong milk to the water with--\u201cCan he claim\nthe title of patriot if he loves his state only, and confesses no\nobligation to the rest of the confederacy?\u201d\n\nFor men who have progressed far enough in constitutional law and\npatriotism to call the Union a confederacy we have strong hopes.\nFurther on, under heading, \u201cThe Southern Confederacy,\u201d we are advised\nthat \u201cthe President has nominated\u201d--so and so--\u201cto his cabinet.\u201d Then\nfollows \u201cPresident Davis\u2019s Inaugural\u201d--not the President we are\nlooking for. Then come \u201cSnake Stories,\u201d \u201cAunt Maria,\u201d \u201cThe Mazed\nFiddler,\u201d \u201cRomance by Lever\u201d--pleasant reading for perilous\ntimes--until, at last, our search is ended, our patience rewarded, and\nat page 144, in the number of March 2, 1861, we have a full-length\nportrait of Abraham Lincoln, President-elect of the United States. It\nis\n\n\n                       A REMARKABLE PICTURE.\n\nIt is indeed a picture so remarkable that we would advise every\nAmerican who voted for Mr. Lincoln, every American who, whether he\nvoted for or against him, yet credited him with the reputation of\nbeing at least a decent person, and every man, of whatever\nnationality, who considered him not positively a degraded loafer--we\nwould advise all such, if they can find a copy of _Harper\u2019s Weekly:\nA Journal of Civilization_, of March 2, 1861, to contemplate and\nstudy that picture, and then form their opinion of the Christianity\nand the patriotism of the men who, at that crisis of the country\u2019s\nfate, and in that dangerous hour of feverish excitement and political\npassion, could, in cold blood, spread such a firebrand sketch\nbroadcast through the land. We further commend this counsel more\nespecially to those present readers and approvers of the _Journal of\nCivilization_ who cherish the memory of a murdered President whom they\nremember as at least blameless in life, pure in character, kind of\nheart, charitable in impulse, and noble in patriotism.\n\nWe will endeavor to describe the drawing. Mr. Lincoln is represented,\nin a room at the Astor House, standing, or rather staggering, under\nthe influence of liquor, with a just emptied glass in his hand. He is\nsurrounded by four boon companions, two of them with drunken leer and\nBardolphian noses; a third in the background looks vacantly on with\nexpression of maudlin stupidity; while the fourth, like the rest,\nglass in hand, stands at the open window, and--partially sobered by\nthe shock--gazes at a passing funeral procession. On the moving\nhearse, accompanied by mourners and decked with solemn black plumes,\nare inscribed the words:\n\n                               UNION,\n\n                           CONSTITUTION.\n\nUnder this work of art--a wretched, scratchy woodcut--we read:\n\n                     OUR PRESIDENTIAL MERRYMAN.\n\n     \u201cThe Presidential party was engaged in a lively exchange of wit\n     and humor. The President-elect was the merriest among the merry\n     and kept those around him in a continual roar.\u201d--_Daily\n     Paper._\n\nNow, let it be borne in mind that this very suggestive piece of malice    732\nwas published just on the eve of Mr. Lincoln\u2019s inauguration at\nWashington, whose atmosphere was black with lowering clouds of\nrebellion, where threats were rife that he would never take his seat\nin the Presidential chair, and where men\u2019s minds were already warped\nand inflamed by misrepresentations and falsehoods concerning him, the\nbelief in which by a large portion of the community would seriously\nblunt any sharp opprobrium of murder, and soften down assassination to\nthe meritorious taking off of an unworthy drunken demagogue. If the\nconductors of this organ of \u201ccivilization\u201d are capable of giving the\ngreatest publicity to a horrible caricature on such a subject, and at\na moment fraught with such dreadful contingencies, need there be any\nroom for surprise that they do not stickle at far worse when the\nsubjects of their defamation are \u201conly Catholics\u201d?\n\n\n                          ANOTHER PICTURE.\n\nBut we have not yet done with this number of March 2. It was the\nstrongest bid of the journal for Southern favor and patronage. On the\nsame page with the cut we have described is another, a more elaborate,\nmore artistic, and better executed picture. Scene: Interior of a\nchurch--pews full of worshippers--minister officiating--administration\nof the sacrament. At the chancel railing kneels George Washington.\nWith one hand, the clergyman standing in the sanctuary holds away the\ncup from the would-be communicant, and with the other contemptuously\nwaves him off. The Father of his Country makes a gesture of indignant\nremonstrance, while the minister\u2019s assistant with a long stick points\nto a tablet in the wall, on which are engraved the words:\n\n                          THE HIGHER LAW.\n\n                  NO COMMUNION WITH SLAVEHOLDERS.\n\nIs the reader edified? There is more to come. The officiating minister\nis Henry Ward Beecher--an unmistakable portrait. His assistant is John\nBrown--an excellent likeness--and the pointer he uses is one of the\nwell-known \u201cHarper\u2019s Ferry Pikes.\u201d Under the engraving we read:\n\n                  NO COMMUNION WITH SLAVEHOLDERS.\n\n     \u201cStand aside, you Old Sinner! We are holier than thou.\u201d\n\nWill the members of Plymouth Church in Brooklyn, who now see the\nefforts of the journal to misrepresent Catholics in doctrine and in\nmorals, please read these efforts by the light of this George\nWashington picture?\n\nWe also commend careful examination, of this picture to the friends\nand admirers of Mr. Beecher. Let them ask themselves this question:\nWould the men who, for the sake of a little larger circulation, do not\nhesitate to caricature their own Protestant co-religionists--would\nthese men, we say, be reasonably expected to be very scrupulous in the\nvilification of those whose Catholic faith they detest?\n\nAnd for similar reasons, we commend consideration of both these\npictures to all readers of a _Journal of Civilization_ which, week\nafter week, by innuendo, assertion, falsehood, and caricature, strives\nto awaken the lowest prejudices of religious intolerance, the vilest      733\npassions of religious bigotry, and the sweeping persecution of\nAmerican citizens who choose to worship God according to the dictates\nof their conscience.\n\nWe see that, in 1861, the proprietors of the _Journal of Civilization_\nheld sentiments looked upon in this latitude as rebel and pro-slavery.\nWe freely admit that they had a perfect right so to do, accepting, of\ncourse, the legal and social consequences flowing from such holding.\nOpen to them to assume the social and moral superiority of Southern\ngentlemen over Northern traders. Free to them to vaunt Southern honor\nat the expense of Northern honesty. But surely they might advocate, as\nthey did, with all the eloquence of their editorials and all the\ninfluence of their wide circulation, the dissolution of the Union and\nthe strong reprobation of anti-slavery sentiment, without insinuating\nthat Eastern and Western merchants are swindlers, without calumniating\nMr. Lincoln, and without vilifying Mr. Beecher?\n\nThe journal\u2019s proprietors were perfectly well aware how grossly Mr.\nLincoln was misrepresented, and how utterly he was misunderstood in\nthe South. To what extent sectional bitterness was intensified against\nhim was shown by the free application of the epithet \u201cgorilla.\u201d Under\nthese circumstances, was it--we will not say considerate--but was it\nhonest, was it fair, to picture him as a drunken clown to men who did\nnot know him, and were all too ready to believe it? Was it respectful,\nwas it decent, to caricature the President-elect to those who did know\nhim, as celebrating in drunken orgies the death of the Constitution\nand the funeral of the Union?\n\nHenry Ward Beecher was looked upon in the South as the ardent apostle\nof an Abolition evangel which taught servile insurrection and midnight\nmurder--not an enviable reputation surely. But was it fair, was it\nhonest, to give shape, body, and unnatural proportions to this belief\nby picturing him as insulting the Father of his Country, aided by John\nBrown as his henchman, armed with a Harper\u2019s Ferry spear?\n\nAnd so we reach the journal\u2019s issue of March 9, 1861, but have thus\nfar found no portrait of President either elect or _de facto_, except\nas a drunken clown (Mr. Merryman). We learn, however, by way of\nexplanation, that he is a sectional President! A long editorial of\nthis number is headed RECONSTRUCTION, and contains such vigorous Union\nsentiment as this:\n\n     \u201cGranted--if you will, for the sake of argument--that the\n     Southern rebellion against the election of a sectional President\n     is treason, and liable to punishment--is it wise, is it prudent,\n     is it possible to punish it?\u201d\n\nAgain:\n\n     \u201cIt would undoubtedly be a very mischievous undertaking to keep\n     half a dozen states in the Union against the deliberate wishes of\n     their people. Whatever popular feeling--roused to frenzy by the\n     seizure of forts, arsenals, revenue cutters, and mints--might\n     prompt on the spur of the moment, _there can be no question but\n     the enterprise of holding the Union together by force would\n     ultimately prove futile_. IT WOULD BE IN VIOLATION OF THE\n     PRINCIPLE OF OUR INSTITUTIONS!\u201d\n\nAn interesting number, this of March 9, with a fine portrait of\n\u201cGeneral David E. Twiggs, late of the United States Army,\u201d a\nwhole-page view of \u201cInauguration of President Jefferson Davis of the\nSouthern Confederacy,\u201d and an article explanatory of the same.\n\nNo \u201csectional President here,\u201d and the inauguration is described as       734\n\u201csolemn and impressive.\u201d\n\nAt page 160 (March 9) we have a cartoon of four vulgar caricatures,\nentitled collectively \u201cThe Flight of Abraham\u201d (as reported by a Modern\nDaily Paper), and separately: (1.) THE ALARM.--A gaunt figure sits\nupright in bed with nightcap on. A lantern is held in at the open\ndoor, from which come the words: \u201cRun, Abe, for your life, the Blood\nTubs are after you!!!\u201d (2.) THE COUNCIL.--General Sumner, with a pair\nof large cavalry boots in one hand, and in the other a handkerchief\nwhich he holds to his eyes, weeping vociferously--boo-o-o, stands near\n\u201cAbe\u201d; on the other side is Mrs. Lincoln in dowdy dishabille, crying\nbitterly, \u201cDo go!\u201d (3.) THE SPECIAL TRAIN.--\u201d He wore a Scotch plaid\ncap and a very long military cloak, so that he was entirely\nunrecognizable\u201d--an ignoble picture. (4.) THE OLD COMPLAINT.--Lincoln\npresents himself to the astonished Buchanan dissolved with fright,\nwhile Seward whispers to Buchanan, \u201cOnly a little attack of ager, your\nexcellency.\u201d\n\nEditorial correspondence at page 162 gives us the valuable information\nthat \u201cSenator Wigfall is a finished orator--probably the most charming\nin the senate,\u201d and that he is \u201cthe exact opposite of Chandler and\nWilkinson\u201d--\u201cvery unpleasant speakers to listen to.\u201d Senator Mason, we\nare told, \u201cwith all his faults is perhaps the nearest approach in the\npresent senate to the beau ideal of a senator.\u201d At page 168 (March 16)\nwe have a large cut representing \u201cThe Inauguration of Abraham Lincoln\n_as_ President of the United States,\u201d and we cannot help contrasting\nthe phraseology of this announcement with a previous one:\n\u201cInauguration of President Jefferson Davis of the Southern\nConfederacy.\u201d\n\nAnd so we progress to April 27, 1861, page 258, where we find\nPresident Lincoln\u2019s Proclamation of April 15 thus announced: \u201cWar is\ndeclared. President Lincoln\u2019s proclamation, which we publish above, is\nan absolute proclamation of war against the Gulf States.\u201d Better late\nthan never, we at last, after long, weary waiting, find in this\nnumber, page 268, the long-looked-for \u201cPortrait of the President,\u201d\naccompanied by a biographical sketch of Mr. Lincoln. It was really\nhigh time that the readers of the _Civilization_ should be told\nsomething of their President nearly two months after he had assumed\nthe reins of government. To make everything pleasant and impartial,\nhowever, the opposite page gives us the copy of a full-length\nphotograph of General Beauregard. Having paid your money, choice is\noptional.\n\nWe have thus seen with what persistence and industry the _Journal_,\nduring the long, critical months of the beginning of that eventful\nyear 1861, was the ardent panegyrist of everything Southern, the stern\nrebuker and enemy of anti-slavery, the mocker and caricaturist of\nNorthern Union sentiment, and the contemptuous sneerer at Abraham\nLincoln. But all this fine talk about principle and lofty assumption\nof stern virtue was a mere question of circulation, and the sympathy\nof the _Journal_ went with its pecuniary benefit, so far and no\nfarther.\n\nThe immutability of its principles was subject to be disturbed by just\nsuch considerations as those which carried conviction to the\nunderstanding of Hans Breitman, and which he so admirably explained in\nhis great political speech:\n\n         \u201cDese ish de brinciples I holts,\n            And dose in vitch I run:\n          Dey ish fixed firm and immutaple\n            Ash te course of de \u2018ternal sun:\n\n          Boot if you ton\u2019t abbrove of dem--                              735\n            Blease nodice vot I say--\n          I shall only be too happy\n            To alder dem right afay.\u201d[149]\n\nFrom an editorial leader of May 25, we hear that the _Weekly_ is in\nreceipt of abusive and threatening letters from various persons in the\nSouthern States, the cause assigned for which rude conduct is \u201cthe\nstatement in _our editorial of March 4_, to the effect that civil war\nbetween the _Free States on one side and the Slave States on the other_\nwill inevitably, sooner or later, become a war of emancipation,\u201d etc.,\netc. The reader may notice here that the expression, \u201cFree States on\none side and the Slave States on the other,\u201d just as clearly and\nforcibly puts forth the doctrine of state sovereignty and the right of\nsecession, as does the title of Alexander Stephens\u2019s late work, which,\nin the smallest of nut-shells, gives the same doctrine in the few\nwords, _The War between the States_. But what is of as great importance\nis that the contingent danger of emancipation was not presented by the\njournal at so early a date as _March 4_. There is no such editorial of\nMarch 4, there is no editorial of any kind of March 4, and, moreover,\nthere was no number of _Harper\u2019s Weekly_ published on that date. The\neditorial referred to appeared _May 4_. And here we would frankly say\nthat we are quite willing to accept this March 4 for May 4 as the\nresult of mistake, oversight, or careless proof-reading.\n\nWith the abusive and threatening letters came advices that \u201cIn\nTennessee vigilance committees forbid its (_Harper\u2019s_) being sold.\u201d\n\u201cIn Louisiana, the governor prohibits its distribution through the\npost-office.\u201d And now, the Harpers, like Macbeth, have heard enough,\nand, seized with the frenzy of patriotism, thunder after this fashion:\n\n\u201cAs for _Harper\u2019s Weekly_, it will continue, _as heretofore_, to\nsupport the government of the United States,[150] the stars and\nstripes,[151] and the indivisible union[152] of thirty-four states.\n\n\u201cWe know no other course[153] consistent with the duty of citizens,\nChristians, and honest men. If any subscriber to this journal expects\nus to give our aid or countenance to rebellion[154] against the\ngovernment, he will be disappointed. If any man buys this journal\nexpecting to find us apologize for treason,[155] robbery, rebellion,\npiracy, or murder, he will be disappointed. That is not our line of\nbusiness. The proprietors of _Harper\u2019s Weekly_ would rather stop this\njournal to-morrow than publish a line in it which would hereafter\ncause their children to blush for the patriotism or the manhood of\ntheir parents.\u201d\n\nThis sharp change of sentiment, this sudden right-about face, may be      736\nbest illustrated by the notes we have appended and by the utterances\nof the _Journal_ before and after certain occurrences.\n\n           BEFORE.                                 AFTER.\n\n  _Editorial (leader) March            _Editorial (leader) May 18,\n  30, 1861, entitled \u201cThe Two          1861._\n  Constitutions.\u201d_\n                                       \u201cMr. Jefferson Davis,\n  \u201cThe Constitution of the             Ex-Senator from Mississippi,\n  Southern Confederacy has             has transmitted to the\n  been published. It is a copy         select council of rebels at\n  of the original Constitution         Montgomery a document which\n  of the United States, with           he calls \u2018A Message.\u2019 It is\n  some variations. The                 a most ingenious and\n  principal variations                 plausible statement of their\n  are\u201d--nineteen of these are          case. Mr. Jefferson Davis is\n  then described, and the              renowned for having made the\n  article concludes: \u201cWe have          most specious argument on\n  thus enumerated the                  record in justification of\n  principal alterations in the         Mississippi repudiation. He\n  Constitution effected by the         has not forgotten his\n  Congress at Montgomery.              cunning. His \u2018Message\u2019 would\n  _Most of them would receive          almost persuade us--if we\n  the hearty support of the            would forget facts and\n  people of the North. But             law--that rebellion is\n  comment is superfluous._\u201d            right, and the maintenance\n                                       of government and the\n                                       enforcement of law a\n                                       barefaced usurpation.\u201d\n\n  _Editorial (leader) April            _Editorial (leader) June 8,\n  20, 1861._                           1861._\n\n  It begins by stating that            \u201cThe rebellion in this country\n  Virginia affirms \u201cthe right          has not half the excuse that\n  of a state to secede from            the Sepoys had. The Indian\n  the Union at will,\u201d and that         soldiers were at least\n  Missouri and Kentucky                standing upon their own soil\n  \u201cdeclare that, in the event          and opposing a foreign race\n  of forcible measures by the          which had vanquished them by\n  general government to resist         arms. It was a blind stroke\n  the dismemberment of the             for the independence of their\n  Union, they will take sides          nationality. But the Davis\n  with the seceded states.\u201d            rebellion is the resistance of\n                                       a faction of citizens against\n  \u201cIt seems questionable,\u201d             the government of all; and the\n  continues the _Weekly_,              liberty for which they claim\n  \u201cwhether the continued               that they are fighting means\n  alliance of these states, on         baldly and only the liberty of\n  these conditions, is an              holding other people in\n  unmixed gain. If this Union          slavery.\u201d[156]\n  of ours is a confederacy of\n  states which is liable to be\n  dissolved at the will of any\n  of the states, and if no\n  power rests with the general\n  government to enforce its\n  laws, it would seem that we\n  have been laboring under a\n  delusion these eighty years\n  in supposing that we were a\n  nation, and the fact would\n  appear to be that,\u201d etc.,\n  etc., etc.\n\n  _Editorial \u201cBetter than              _Editorial May 18, 1861,\n  Dollars,\u201d April 20, 1861._           headed \u201cIn Memoriam.\u201d_\n\n  Portrait of the typical              \u201cThey have led us by the nose,\n  Northern man in contrast             and kicked us, and laughed at\n  with the typical Southern            us, and scorned us in their\n  man, in which the first is           very souls as cravens and\n  described as mean,                   tuppeny tinkers. They have\n  avaricious, and                      swelled, and swaggered, and\n  unprincipled. \u201cCotton Pork           sworn, and lorded it in\n  is a Northern man, mostly            Washington and at the North,\n  from New England, though             as if they were peculiarly\n  often transplanted to New            _gentlemen_[157] because they\n  York, and doing well in our          have lived by the labor of\n  climate. Some varieties of           wretched men and women whom\n  his genius have been tried           they did not pay--whom they\n  at the South, but they don\u2019t         sell to pay their debts, and\n  thrive there. They can\u2019t stand       whipped and maimed savagely at     737\n  so much sun.\u201d                        their pleasure. They have\n                                       snorted superciliously about\n  \u201cAt the South--an odd                their rights, while they\n  region--dollars are well             deprived four millions of\n  thought of, to be sure, but          human beings of all rights\n  still they don\u2019t govern.... It       whatsoever, and have sought to\n  seems ridiculous, but people         gain such control of the\n  talk and think much more about       general government that they\n  honor at the South than about        might override altogether the\n  dollars.\u201d                            state laws which protect the\n                                       equal rights of men. They have\n  Cotton Pork, we are told, \u201cis        aimed to destroy the\n  _for his country if dollars          beneficent, popular system\n  are on his country\u2019s side,           which peacefully and patiently\n  otherwise he crawls on his           and lawfully was working out\n  belly to lick the feet of the        the great problem of\n  enemy who offers him                 civilization; and while they\n  dollars_.\u201d                           have been digging about the\n                                       foundations of the temple to\n  \u201cStrange how differently they        make sure of its downfall,\n  talk down South! They spend no       they have loftily replied to\n  energy in denouncing civil           our inquiries, \u2018We only want\n  war. They do not want to             to be let alone.\u2019\u201d\n  fight. _They seek peace._ But\n  if it comes, they will make no\n  wry faces. It will cost them\n  much, but they utter no such\n  philanthropic shrieks as\n  proceed from the mouth of\n  Cotton Pork. They seem to\n  think that there are things\n  worse than fighting in this\n  world, and better than\n  dollars. An odd people, surely.\u201d\n\nWe trust that the Southern gentleman and Cotton Pork, Esq., \u201ca\nNorthern man,\u201d are pleased with their respective portraits.\n\nWe have long and patiently borne with the insults and aspersions upon\nour faith and conduct as Catholics persisted in for years by\n_Harper\u2019s Weekly_. Trusting that better counsels would prevail, and\nunwilling to add by controversy a single spark to the fire already\nkindled, we have deferred from day to day, and from month to month,\nsaying what we might at any time have said.\n\nFully aware of the by no means reputable \u201canti-Popery\u201d antecedents of\nits proprietors, of their palpably governing motive, and of the\nspeculation they saw at the bottom of the movement, we might, so far\nas we were personally concerned, have looked upon the malicious\nmovement as not meriting serious attention.\n\nBut we are also aware to how great an extent the prestige of the\nwealth and commercial standing of a large publishing-house, the\nwidespread circulation of their periodicals, and most especially their\nnoisy and incessant proclamation of a patriotism claimed as at once\nunvarying, inflexible, unselfish, and devoted, had misled or blinded\nthe general public, ignorant of their real precedents, and we have,\ntherefore, found it our duty to enlighten as well our own readers as\nthose of the _Weekly_ as to the real state of the case.\n\nIn so doing, we wish to call attention to the fact that we have here\nconfined ourselves to the information furnished by public judicial\ndecisions, and to their own record as published by themselves.\n\nFinally, we most earnestly, and in the spirit of charity, urge these\ngentlemen to devote themselves to their plain, and what they may make\ntheir noble, duty as journalists. Let them be advised for their own\ngood to cease fanning the flame of a hateful bigotry, and to pursue in\nthe future such a course as may induce right-minded men to look upon\ntheir title-page illustration as indeed the flambeau of civilization,\nand not the torch of the incendiary.\n\n\n     [147] Demurrer is thus defined: \u201cA stop or pause by a party\n     to an action for the judgment of the court on the question,\n     whether, assuming the truth of the matter alleged by the\n     opposite party, it is sufficient in law to sustain the\n     action, and hence whether the party resting is bound to\n     answer or proceed further.\u201d\n\n     [148] In passages here quoted from _Harper\u2019s Weekly_, the\n     italics are ours.\n\n     [149] We give this passage not only because we think it apt,\n     but also to vindicate the witty Hans from the inept\n     aspersions of the _Harper\u2019s_ critic, who deliberately reaches\n     the solemn opinion that \u201cin Hans Breitman there is nothing\n     funny but the grotesque dress. Translate his poetry into\n     English, and it is, with here and there a solitary\n     exception, the baldest of all commonplaces.\u201d\n\n     [150] \u201cWanted, a Capital.\u201d\n\n     [151] \u201cThe Crippled American Eagle.\u201d\n\n     [152] \u201cThere can be no question but the enterprise of\n     holding the Union together by force would ultimately prove\n     futile. _It would be in violation of the principle of our\n     institutions._\u201d--_Harper\u2019s Weekly, editorial leader of\n     March 9, 1861._\n\n     \u201cIf the Union is really injurious to them (our Southern\n     friends), heaven forbid that we should insist on preserving\n     it.\u201d--_Harper\u2019s Weekly_, 1861, p. 146.\n\n     [153] \u201cMost of them\u201d (\u201calterations in the Constitution\n     _effected by the Congress at Montgomery_\u201d) \u201cwould receive\n     the hearty support of the people of the North.\u201d--_Harper\u2019s\n     Weekly, March 30, 1861._\n\n     \u201cSome practical people, viewing the dissolution of the Union\n     as a fixed fact.\u201d--_Weekly, Jan. 26, 1861._\n\n     [154] \u201cIs it wise, is it prudent, is it possible to punish\n     it?\u201d--_Harper\u2019s Weekly_, p. 146, 1861.\n\n     [155] \u201cHe [Jeff. Davis] is emphatically one of those \u2018born\n     to command,\u2019 and is doubtless destined to occupy a high\n     position, either in the Southern Confederacy or in the\n     United States.\u201d--_Weekly, Feb. 2, 1861._\n\n     [156] \u201cStand aside, you Old Sinner! We are holier than\n     thou!\u201d--OUR COMMENT.\n\n     [157] So italicized in the article.\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n                        THE HOUSE OF YORKE.                               738\n\n\n                           CHAPTER XXIII.\n\n                         THE TOWN-MEETING.\n\n\nBefore allowing her husband to go to the town-meeting, Mrs. Yorke had\ngiven him a word of admonition, not the usual wifely charge to keep\nhimself out of danger, but an exhortation to justice and reason.\n\n\u201cJustice and reason!\u201d he exclaimed. \u201cWhy, for what else have I been\ncontending, Mrs. Yorke?\u201d\n\n\u201cTrue!\u201d she answered gently. \u201cBut may it not be possible that there is\nmore cause than you will allow for this upheaval, and that it is not a\nsuperficial excitement which can be easily soothed or beaten down?\nThese sailor friends of ours have told me that, when the water is\ndimpled and green, it has a sand bottom, and, when it is black and\neasily fretted into foam, there are rocks underneath. Now, this\nanti-Catholic excitement is dark and bitter enough to show that there\nis some fixed obstacle, which breath, though it be ever so wisely\nsyllabled, will not remove.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo there is,\u201d Mr. Yorke replied promptly. \u201cThe devil is there.\u201d\n\n\u201cCharles, the devil, or human weakness, lurks under the surface of\nevery side of every question,\u201d his wife said with earnestness. \u201cGood\nmen are not entirely good, nor bad men utterly bad. There are men, and\nnot ignorant ones, either, who have engaged in this movement from an\nhonest conviction that there is need of it. They may be prejudiced and\nshort-sighted, but they are\u201d worthy of a patient, if not a respectful,\nhearing. My wish is that to-night you would be in no haste to speak,\nand that, when you do speak, you would address the real meaning of the\ntrouble, and not the miserable froth on the surface.\u201d\n\nWhat man likes to be told that he is not reason personified,\nespecially by his wife? Not Mr. Charles Yorke, certainly. But the\nlittle lady was not one to be scouted, even by her liege lord, and he\nheard her respectfully to the end. Manhood must be asserted, however,\nand he compensated himself for the mortification after a manner that\nis often adopted by both men and women: he first absurdly exaggerated\nthe charge made against him, and then answered to that exaggeration.\n\n\u201cI am much obliged to you, my dear, for explaining the matter to me,\u201d\nhe said with an air of meekness. \u201cI am afraid that I cannot stop to\nhear more, for it is time to go. But I will remember your warning, and\ntry not to make a fool of myself.\u201d\n\nNine women out of ten would have made the reply which such a pretence\nis calculated to call forth--a shocked and distressed denial of having\nhad any such meaning, a senseless begging pardon for having been so\nmisunderstood, and a final giving up of the point, and temporary utter\nhumiliation and grief, followed later, on thinking the matter over, by\na mental recurrence to their abandoned position, and a disenchanting\nconviction that men are sometimes artful creatures, after all, and        739\nonly to be pleased by flattery.\n\nMrs. Yorke was not to be so entrapped. She accepted her husband\u2019s\nsubmission with perfect tranquillity, as though she believed it both\nproper and sincere, and laughed a little as he went away. \u201cMy poor\nCharles!\u201d she said, looking after him with tender indulgence.\n\nThose little faults are so endearing!\n\nThe hall where the meeting was held was filled in every part; a dense\nmass of people struggled up or down the two flights of stairs leading\nto it, and a throng of men obstructed the street outside. Edith Yorke\nhad been in the lane to see a sick woman, and, hearing that Miss\nChurchill also was in the neighborhood, had lingered longer than was\nprudent, hoping for her company home. Starting off alone, at last, she\nsoon found herself in the midst of this crowd. They surged about her,\nmuttering insults and maledictions on \u201cthat Catholic Rowan girl,\u201d and\nseemed every moment on the point of stopping her. Not far in advance\nwas Miss Churchill. An enthusiastic boy threw a stone at her, and the\nteacher wiped from her cheek a stain of blood where it struck. Edith\nheld her head up, and walked straight on, looking neither to the right\nnor left, and, whatever ruffianly intention any one may have had,\nthose who looked in her face stood aside, and kept silence while she\npassed. If the spirit that hardened her brow to the likeness of\nmarble, shone in her eyes, and curved her red lips with a still scorn,\nwas less Christian humility than natural loftiness, it was at least no\npetty pride, and it needed but the sense of actual personal danger to\nchange it to supernatural lowliness. Her conviction, \u201cThey dare not touch\nme!\u201d prevented the advent of that martyr-spirit which brings\nwith it every virtue.\n\nHumility is a flower that grows on the mountain-tops of the soul, and\nis reached only by striving and endeavor. That is not true humility\nwhich the mean heart plucks in the lowlands, calling on God \u2018twixt\nswamp and slough; nor does the child\u2019s hand bear it, nor yet does it\nshadow the untried maiden\u2019s brow, over her lowered eyelids. We must\ncome out above the belt of pines and the gentian meadows, we must\nscale the dizzy track where to look down is destruction, and face the\nbitter cold of the glacier, and, over all, we shall find that\nexquisite blossom, its pure blue drooped earthward under the infinite\nblue of heaven.\n\nTherefore we claim not humility for Edith, for she was not wise enough\nfor that, and she was too true and brave for its counterfeit; but she\nhad that scorn for meanness and tyranny which is one of the first\nmilestones on the road to humility.\n\nWhile his niece was walking unprotected through the crowd without, Mr.\nYorke was in the hall, seated near the platform, on which were all the\nministers, and the prominent Know-Nothings, several of the latter\ntown-officers. One after another spoke, and was loudly applauded. The\nexcitement and enthusiasm were immense. Mindful of his wife\u2019s charge,\nMr. Yorke restrained his indignation, and listened attentively,\nsifting out what was essential in this commotion and common to all its\nparticipants. As he listened, the vision of a possible future of his\ncountry appeared before him, and made the hair rise on his head. He\nsaw the anarchy and bloodshed of a religious war more terrible than\nany war the world had seen--a massacre of innocents, a war of\nextermination. This was possible, was probable, was inevitable, unless    740\nmen would listen to reason. And why would they not? He weighed all\nthat was said, carefully attending to the most revolting and worthless\narguments, and under all that foam and roar saw the one rock. However\ndifferent might be the principles and feelings of those anti-Catholic\nspeakers, they all converged, consolidated, and struck fire on that\none point.\n\nIt was not that they were fanatic, for fanaticism cannot exist without\nsome strong religious conviction, and by far the largest number of\nthem had no religious belief; while many interpreted religious freedom\nto mean freedom from religion. It was not that they were intolerant of\nany man\u2019s simple belief. The majority were more likely to laugh at\nfaith than to be angry with it. Indeed, their scepticism made them\nincapable of practising real religious toleration, for that is to\nbear, without any manifestation of resentment, that your neighbor\nshall tacitly scorn what you hold sacred; a virtue most difficult to\nthe faithful, but comparatively easy to the sceptic. It was not that\nthey cared for its own sake whether the Bible was read in school or\nnot, for the larger number of them never read it at home, many quoted\nit only in mockery, and every one denied the truth of some of its most\nplainly uttered tests. In short, the rock on which this tempest rose\nand dashed was a deadly fear and hatred, not of the Catholic Church,\nbut of the Catholic clergy. The only question which interested these\nmen in connection with any Catholic dogma was, How much temporal\ninfluence will it give to the priest? The supernatural side they cared\nnot a fig for. To their minds it was impossible that a Catholic priest\nshould be a truthful, plain-dealing, straightforward man. He shuffled,\nevaded, intrigued. His aim was less to christianize the world than to\ngovern it, less to enlighten than to direct.\n\nLet us give the Know-Nothings and their sympathizers their due. Bad as\nthey were, slanderers and law-breakers, and absolutely irreligious for\nthe most part, the worst fault of many of them was that they knowingly\nused bad means to what they believed to be a good end. There was some\nsincerity in the movement, though it was, at its best, irrational,\ninconsistent, and un-American, as alien, indeed, to our republic as it\ncharged the church with being. They believed that the Catholic clergy\nacquire power by insidious means, and that, once in power, they will\ndestroy all that makes our dear country the abode of freedom and equal\nrights, and the bountiful home where all the starving, shivering\nexiles of other lands may feed and warm themselves. Once prove that\nthe church is friendly to the republic, and the vertebra of their\nopposition is broken.\n\nMr. Griffeth was the only one of these speakers who cleared the\nquestion from the _d\u00e9bris_ of personal slander and misrepresentation\nof doctrine.\n\n\u201cYou mistake, gentlemen,\u201d he said, \u201cif you think that the doctrines of\nthe Catholic Church are either ridiculous or bad. Such an opinion\nwould show you ill-informed or incapable of comprehension. On the\ncontrary, they are glorious. But they are such as can be safely\npreached and enforced only by saints and angels, or by men of such\nexalted holiness as the world seldom sees. In the hands of weak men,\nthey may be, and have been, perverted to base uses. The dogma of the\nInfallibility of the church is a crown of living gold on the head of\nthe mystical Spouse, and a mantle of cloth of gold about her form; but    741\nthe priest has drawn the shining folds about his own human shoulders,\nand made it a sin to criticise _him_. Confession, which I proclaim to\nbe, in its essence, one of the most comforting and saving institutions\nthat ever existed, they can and do use to learn the secret workings of\nsociety and obtain power over individuals. I need not detain you to go\nover the list, for all are the same. It is St. Michael\u2019s sword in the\nhands of Satan.\n\n\u201cNo, gentlemen, it is not because their theology is bad that I say,\nDown with the church! It is because its fair niches and shrines harbor\nthieves, and robbers, and tyrants--because, though the pope can sit\nthere enthroned, with his lofty tiara, and the bishops stand with\nmitres, and the priests lift their haughty foreheads, the people\ncannot walk erect as God made them to walk, but must crawl on the\npavement like worms. And therefore, though the walls of the temple\nwere of jasper, its pillars of malachite, its ceiling of sapphires,\nits pavements of beaten gold, and its gates like the gates of the New\nJerusalem, I still would cry, Down with the temple!\n\n\u201cFrom the time when peoples first began to crystallize upon the face\nof the earth, God has looked out from heaven, and asked each in turn,\n\u2018Where shall my children find peace, and freedom, and room to grow?\u2019\nand each in turn has answered, \u2018Here, Lord!\u2019 lying to his face. And in\nhis own time, after patient waiting, the Almighty has stretched forth\nhis hand, and has effaced the boundaries of that perjured nation, and\ntouched her people with blight. The kingdoms of old lied to the Lord,\nand they have perished; and in our own day there is a wavering and\ntottering in the battlements that wall the nations in.\n\n\u201cOne hundred years ago, America rose up and made the covenant: Here,\nLord, shall thy children find peace and freedom, and here shall they\ngrow to the stature of the perfect man and woman! It is for us,\nbrethren, to see that the pact is kept. It is for us to watch that the\noppressor gains no foothold here, lest we perish for ever. For there\nis no Ph\u0153nix among the kingdoms of earth, from whatever cause they\ndie. When a nation lies in the dust, it rises no more, save to walk, a\nghost, in the dreams of its orphaned children. Ireland, Poland,\nHungary,--they sleep the sleep that knows no waking. They are in the\npast, with Greece and Rome, with Babylon and Nineveh:\n\n         \u2018Youthful nation of the West,\n            Rise, with truer greatness blest!\n          Sainted bands from realms of rest,\n            Watch thy bright\u2019ning fame!\u2019\n\n\u201cBrethren, when we in turn shall join that company of silent watchers,\nGod forbid that we should hear rising from our beloved land such a\nlamentation as went up for that ruined city of the East: \u2018Nineveh is\nlaid waste! who will bemoan her? She is empty, and void, and waste;\nher nobles dwell in the dust; her people are scattered upon the\nmountains, and no man gathereth them.\u2019 For the sake of humanity, may\nGod forbid!\n\n\u201cThere is now but one name written in living characters on the future,\nand that name is America. It was writ in blood by our fathers, and\naccepted in fire by the God of nations. Palsied be the hand that would\nquench one letter of that sacred legend!\u201d\n\nDuring the loud applause that followed, Mr. Yorke mounted the\nplatform.\n\nHad they not known that he was soon to leave them, and had not his\nmanner been quite unlike what he had shown on former occasions of this    742\nsort, they might have refused to hear him. As it was, a reluctant and\nimpatient silence was accorded. Some listened, doubtless because they\nwished to be exasperated, and hoped for another pretext for outbreak.\nBut he looked like one who fully appreciates the strength of his\nopponent, and does not hope for a speedy victory.\n\n\u201cGentlemen,\u201d he said, with a certain grim emphasis on the word, \u201cafter\nMr. Griffeth\u2019s pyrotechnic display of eloquence, I cannot hope that my\nwords will not fall with a dull sound on your ears. He has gone up\nlike the rocket, and I must come down like the stick. I promise,\nhowever, to be brief, and to speak to the point. First, I thank him\nfor having spoken like a gentleman, and left the subject clear enough\nfor a gentleman to touch. On all that preceded him, I have but two\ncomments to make. Concerning the attacks on the personal character of\nthe Catholic clergy, I will only say, \u2018Set a thief to catch a thief!\u2019\nTo the misrepresentations of their creed, I would say, theologians\nshould be better educated than to make them sincerely, and honest men\nshould not fear to tell the truth, even of a foe.\n\n\u201cI come, then, to Mr. Griffeth\u2019s argument: that these men, simply from\nhuman weakness, not from personal depravity, have always abused their\npower, and, being men, always will abuse it, and that, therefore, we\nmust, in self-defence, either banish them from the country, or deny\nthem the rights of citizenship; their doctrines all the time being\nperfect, or, at least, tolerable.\n\n\u201cI am not here to defend the character of the Catholic clergy. I know\nwell that your deep-rooted prejudice will not yield to any word of\nmine or theirs. They must live down your enmity with what patience\nthey may; and the day will come, believe me! when the still, small\nvoice of those lives that have been consecrated to God will silence\nand put to shame the blatant accusation and pseudo-patriotism which\nnow overwhelm it. Whatever may have been proved against some, the\nwhole world knows that that clergy has given for its admiration many a\nmodel of Christian behavior, and that among its missionaries have\nbeen, and are, men worthy to stand beside Peter, and Paul, and\nJohn--men enamored of the things of God, and dead to the attractions\nof earth. If it be true that you can find Judases in their company, it\nis equally true that apostolical laborers are not found outside of\ntheir fold. It may still be the apostolical church, though one in\ntwelve were a Judas.\n\n\u201cThis part of the question is, however, irrelevant. We stand here, if\nwe are worthy to speak, for principle, and not for men. If the faults\nof partisans are to be used as an argument against an institution, no\ninstitution on earth can stand, and Protestantism and freedom must\nshake to their foundations.\n\n\u201cAssuming, though, that his assertion is true, and that the clergy\nhave always been the enemies of freedom and enlightenment, though that\nwould be strong circumstantial evidence against their future\ntrustworthiness, still the conviction which he invokes is too grave\nand arbitrary for so just and enlightened a judge as our country\npromises to be. But I deny the truth of his premises, and, since proof\nis out of the question in this place, set my bare denial against his\nbare assertion.\n\n\u201cBut if his assumption and conclusion were both true, if these men\nwere untrustworthy, and if we had therefore the right to refuse them      743\nequality, we are still bound to give that refusal, not with the\nhowling of wild beasts, not with mobs and threatenings, but decently,\nand according to law, or we are ourselves unfit to be trusted with\nthat freedom which we deny to them.\n\n\u201cNo, I am not here to prove that the clergy of the Catholic Church are\nall saints, or even all good men; but I am here to say that, hate them\nas you may, you cannot, in these United States, under the constitution,\nyou cannot with impunity persecute them, nor deprive them of any of\nthe privileges which that constitution guarantees to them as rights.\n\u2018Work in secret,\u2019 do they? \u2018Undermine,\u2019 do they? And from whom does\nthis accusation come? What of that society in which this movement\ntakes its rise?--that society which now dominates the land, stirring\nup riots from Maine to Louisiana, making laws and changing laws, and\nsetting the off-scouring of the earth in our high places? What of\nthose lodges where men assemble to concert measures for governing the\ncountry, yet where no citizen can enter without the pass-word and oath\nof secrecy? Josiah Quincy, Senior, of Boston, a man whose name carries\nas much weight as any name here in this hall, has said of these same\nsocieties, \u2018_The liberties of a people are never more certain in the\npath of destruction than when they trust themselves to the guidance of\nsecret societies. Birds of the night are never birds of wisdom....\nThey are for the most part birds of prey. The fate of a republic is\nsealed when the bats take the lead of the eagles._\u2019 Our atmosphere is\nblack with these same bats!\n\n\u201cTo Mr. Griffeth\u2019s parting anathema, I respond, ay and amen! Palsied\nbe the hand that would quench one letter of that sacred legend! But\nwhose is the hand that threatens it in this town? Is it Father Rasle,\nwho asked a right of you, and, when you refused it, asked it of the\nlaw--in a neighboring town, mark, there being no law here!--and when\nthe law refused it, submitted in silence? Is it the few hundreds of\nharmless Catholics among you, not one of whom has raised a hand in\nviolence? Or is it your brutal mobs, who have insulted both priest and\npeople, destroyed their property, and threatened their lives? Think of\nthis, citizens! If the laws are dear to you, keep them! If you love\nfreedom, do not practise tyranny! If you claim to be an intelligent\npeople, think for yourselves, and do not let demagogues do it for you!\nWho is he who truly loves and honors his country? Not that man who\nholds its constitution to be a pretty myth, fine to quote, but\nimpossible to act upon; but he who demands that its most generous\npromise shall be fulfilled, and is not afraid that in sincerity will\nbe its destruction.\n\n\u201cMr. Griffeth has uttered his war-cry, \u2018Down with the church!\u2019 and you\nhave applauded it with enthusiasm. While I have listened to-night,\nthere has risen before my vision the possible demolition of another\nedifice--a demolition which is inevitable, if such counsels are to\nprevail. Our fathers raised in this land a temple to civil and\nreligious liberty, and pledged to its support their lives, their\nfortunes, and their sacred honor. That was no empty pledge, for the\nstructure was cemented with their blood from corner-stone to pinnacle.\nAnd the genius whom they enthroned in the centre was no idol of wood\nand stone, to be used as a puppet by the designing, but a living\ncreature. She was strong, and pure, and generous, and she had eagle\u2019s\neyes. She opened her arms to the world. She feared no alien foe, for      744\nher strength could be shorn and her limbs manacled only by her own\nrenegade children. It is you are her foes. These narrow and violent\ncounsels which pretend to protect, do contradict her; the manacles\nwhich you forge for others, will fetter her; with the violence which\nyou do to others, will her strength be shorn; and the spirit which you\nobey under her name will dethrone her. But do not fancy that you can\nblind and make sport of her with impunity. The time may come when that\ninsulted spirit will take in her mighty arms the pillars of the\nnation, and pull it down in ruin on your heads. No, the foe is not the\norphan she has cherished, nor the stranger within her gates, but the\nchildren she has nourished at her bosom.\n\n\u201cWho is here so vile that will not love his country? If any, speak;\nfor him have I offended.\u201d\n\nWhen Mr. Yorke went home that night, though it was late, he found his\nwife and Betsey waiting for him at a turn of the road. He expressed no\nsurprise nor disapprobation, but walked slowly homeward with them.\n\n\u201cWhat have they done?\u201d Mrs. Yorke asked. She perceived that her\nhusband\u2019s arm trembled.\n\n\u201cNothing can stop their running but themselves,\u201d he answered. \u201cThey\nmust fall by their own speed.\u201d\n\n\u201cThey listened to you?\u201d she asked.\n\n\u201cYes, they were civil, and even applauded a little. But what of that?\nIn spite of all that I could do, they have passed a resolve, passed it\nunanimously, that, if Father Rasle comes here again, they will give\nhim a suit that is not to be bought at the tailor\u2019s.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat does that mean?\u201d was Mrs. Yorke\u2019s wondering question.\n\n\u201cYou little goose! it means tar and feathers! Well, don\u2019t let us talk\nany more about it. I am done with words.\u201d\n\n\u201cEdith got into the crowd to-night,\u201d Mrs. Yorke said, \u201cand they were\nimpudent. She took it very quietly then, I think, but after she got\nhome she was quite hysterical. I thought the child would sob herself\nto death.\u201d\n\n\u201cShe had no business to be out,\u201d her uncle exclaimed. \u201cNeither had you\nand Betsey. How do you know what they may do?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are right, dear,\u201d she said soothingly. \u201cIn future, we will stay\nin the house, and you will stay with us.\u201d\n\n\n                            CHAPTER XXIV\n\n           \u201cCELUI-LA FAIT LE CRIME A QUI LE CRIME SERT.\u201d\n\n\nMr. Yorke was at the Seaton House when the Western mail-coach came in\nSaturday morning, but Father Rasle was not a passenger. The mail\nbrought a letter from him to Edith, however, and her uncle took it\nhome to her immediately. She read aloud to the family his thanks for\ntheir invitation, and his reasons for declining it. He would drive\nover in his own buggy, he wrote, and would probably reach Seaton\nbefore ten o\u2019clock in the forenoon. Edith had better come to see him\nin the morning, as he would then be more at leisure.\n\n\u201cWhy, he must be here now!\u201d Edith exclaimed, and ran up-stairs to\nprepare herself for the visit.\n\nIf Mrs. Yorke and her daughters felt any sense of relief on learning      745\nthat they had escaped the danger which would have threatened them had\nthe priest been their guest, they did not express that feeling. They\nwere quite ready, in spite of the danger, to repeat the invitation.\nMr. Yorke alone sincerely regretted Father Rasle\u2019s decision. Even\nEdith, who knew nothing of the action of the town-meeting, perceived\nthat the priest\u2019s place was with his own people.\n\n\u201cI have seen the sheriff and Dr. Willis, this morning,\u201d Mr. Yorke\nsaid, after his niece had left the room, \u201cand they both agree in\nthinking that Father Rasle will not be molested for coming here to\nstay over one Sunday. They are probably right. The great objection is\nto his settling here. Besides, he comes so quietly, his being here\nwill not be widely known. Half of his own people do not know that he\nis coming.\u201d\n\nThe two gentlemen named by Mr. Yorke were among the few who secretly\ncondemned the conduct of the town, but did not publicly avow their\nsentiments, possibly because they knew that such a proclamation would\nharm themselves without doing any good to Catholics. Aside from the\nrisk of violence to person or property, the physician would be accused\nof bartering his principles for an increase of practice, the\npolitician of intriguing for the Irish vote. That any one could speak\na good word for the church or the Irish from a disinterested motive,\nwas not for a moment admitted.\n\nThe day was overcast, threatening rain; but to Edith Yorke it was as\nthough spring and sunshine were at the door; for Mother Church, long\nexiled, bent once more toward her bereaved children.\n\n\u201cWhat I do not tell him voluntarily, he will ask,\u201d she said to herself,\nthinking of Father Rasle. \u201cHe will point out what has been wrong in\nme, and reprove me once for all, and have done with it; and the fault\nthat is not mine, he will lift off my shoulders. It is very heavy!\u201d\nshe whispered tremulously, and for a little while could say no more.\n\nEdith was not breaking under her burden, but she was bending wearily,\nand the constant weight of it had taken away all her elasticity, not\nof spirits alone, but of body. While making her last examen of\nconscience, she felt too weak to kneel, and sank into an arm-chair\ninstead, dropping her head back against the cushion, and closing her\neyes. So seen, the change in her face was startlingly evident. Her\nmanner was always so fresh, and her eyes and teeth lighted up her\nsmile so brilliantly, whether she spoke or listened, or only looked,\nthat one could not see that she was pale and thin. But the face that\nlay against the chair-back was very pallid, and even the hands\nstretched out on the arms of the chair looked sick.\n\n\u201cThere are six sins that I am sure of, besides all the doubtful ones,\u201d\nshe said presently, sitting up. \u201cThat takes all my right hand, and the\nforefinger of my left hand. And now it is time to go.\u201d\n\nThe shortest way to the house where Father Rasle was to stop led\nthrough the wood-path that Edith and Dick had taken when he left her\nafter his first visit to Seaton. She recollected that walk as she\npassed again through the forest, and murmured a tearful \u201cPoor Dick!\nwhere are you now?\u201d\n\nThe trees were not, as then, bright with a prodigal splendor of color,\nand steeped in mellow sunshine. The gold was tarnished, the reds\nlooked dark and angry, and the lowering sky seemed to press on the\nbranches. That silence which, in the glory of autumn, expresses           746\ncontentment with finished work and wishes fulfilled, seemed now to\nmean only suspense or endurance. No leaf came floating trustfully down\nto give its earth to earth, and free the imprisoned gold into its\nnative air; no gray squirrel was discovered gathering its store of\nbeech-nuts for the coming winter; no bird flitted about to take one\nmore look at its summer haunts. All was silent and deserted.\n\n\u201cYou poor old woods! I know just how to pity you,\u201d Edith said, looking\nabout. \u201cBut cheer up! These are the days in which Nature tells over\nthe sorrowful mysteries in her long rosary. Your garments are rent\naway, and the thorns are on your head; but after all is ended, then\ncomes the glorious mystery of the spring resurrection. There! now I\nhave exhorted you, you may exhort me. If you have anything to say,\nplease to say it!\u201d\n\nAnd then the woods answered: \u201cChild, I know my rosary all by heart,\nfor I have said it six thousand times--six thousand times, child, and\nyet man will not listen. I tell of resignation and hope, and still his\nears are dull. I tell him that in obedience is wisdom, and in wisdom\ncontentment, and he does not cease to rebel. That is a sorrowful\nmystery over which I grew sad many a time before the cross became the\nsign of salvation. My very birds are wiser than the children of men;\nmy beasts less cruel. Do not blush, little one! It was your ignorance\nthat spoke, and not presumption. No fairer flower has bloomed in my\nshadow than your loving thought. Cheer up! Hearts will find the way\nwhen heads cannot; for when true love is blind, then an angel leads\nit.\u201d\n\n\u201cI thank you!\u201d Edith said after having listened. \u201cIt is very true, our\nteachers have a hard time with us. There is you, Mother Nature, with\nyour book full of pictures, to catch our eyes; and the church,\nspeaking our own language, to catch our ears; and conscience, with its\ntwo words only, yes and no, to catch our thoughts, and we fight\nagainst you all. I am very, very blind! Will some good angel lead me?\u201d\n\nShe came out into East Street, and stood a moment on the spot where\nshe and Dick had stood to look at that exquisite bit of meadow. The\nviolet mist that had hung over it, like a parting soul over its body,\nhad long since dissolved, and the little incarnate song that had\nfloated there, yellow-winged and feathered, had been loosed into the\nheavenly orchestra. Half-way down the hill, a footpath led off to the\nleft of the street, passed a few back-doors of houses on High Street,\nand ended at the door of the house where Father Rasle was. She knew by\nthe buggy standing in the yard that he had come. If it had not been\nthere, the smiling face of the woman who stood in the door would have\ntold the story.\n\nThe woman stepped out to make way, and Edith ran in through the narrow\nentry to the square room that was both kitchen and parlor.\n\n\u201cO father, father! A hundred thousand welcomes!\u201d And then, between\ngrief and gladness, her voice was stopped.\n\n\u201cDear child!\u201d he said affectionately. \u201cSo you needed me very much?\u201d\n\nSeveral women were in the room. Some of them had arrived before the\npriest came, nearly all of them had made their confession, but not one\ncould persuade herself to go away while she was allowed to remain.\nThey meant to stay till he should bid them go, and even then wait for\na second telling. To see their beloved pastor, to hear him speak, to       747\nrepeat over and over their demonstrative welcome, was a happiness\nwhich they would fain prolong.\n\nThe host and hostess were in their best attire. They had given up all\nother occupation to the supreme one of entertaining their priest.\nTheir faces shone with a proud delight, their poor house was\nscrupulously clean, and, though Father Rasle was known to be\nabstemious, they had gone to the extent of their means for his\nentertainment.\n\nThe priest talked jestingly to the women to cheer them. \u201cWhat is it\nthat you cry about? But you need not tell me, for I know. It is\nbecause you have had nothing but hard words and the absence of your\npriest to bear. You cry because you were not blown up in the\nschoolhouse, or did not have your heads broken in the church. Or\nperhaps you were in hopes that I should come, and find you all strung\nup to the branches of trees. That is the finest fruit that a tree can\nbear--a martyr. The Bread of Life grew on the tree of the cross.\nCourage! They have not done with you yet. Make a good communion\nto-morrow, and afterward keep yourselves free from sin, and then, when\nI come again. I may have the happiness of finding all your bodies hung\nto trees, and all your souls in Paradise.\n\n\u201cNow, you two who have not been to confession will confess at once.\nThen I want every one of you to go home. I have to talk to that little\ngirl.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat little girl\u201d seated herself in the midst of these poor women,\nwho smilingly made room for her--they were not jealous of her--and all\nturned their faces away from Father Rasle, and sat silently looking\ninto the fire while the confessions were finished. And at last Edith\nfound herself free to tell all her story to the priest.\n\nThe Catholics of Seaton could not, if they would, have concealed from\ntheir enemies that Father Rasle had come. Their joyful faces would\nhave betrayed the secret if their lips had remained silent. All who\ncould do so laid their work aside, and gathered in knots in the lane,\nor visited each other\u2019s houses, to talk the matter over. They smiled\nand nodded to each other in the street with a significance which every\none understood. Poor souls! to the cruel eyes that watched them their\npathetic and sacred delight was a crime; their silence, treachery.\n\nToward evening the scattering visitors who had taken their way during\nthe day to the house under the hill became a steady stream. It looked\nas though every Catholic in Seaton was going to confession. It looked,\ntoo, as though every Protestant in Seaton was willing that they\nshould, for no one molested them, and the town was perfectly quiet.\nThose who had been anxious ascribed this quietude to the weather, and\ncongratulated themselves that the threatening rain prevented any\ngathering of their persecutors.\n\nAt nine o\u2019clock the crowd around the house where the priest was began\nto thin off. The road by which they sought their homes that night was\na _via sacra_; for, newly shriven, and moved to the depths of their\nhearts, they carried with them, every one, the memory of an earnest\nexhortation to humility and forgiveness, and resignation to the will\nof God. At half-past ten only three or four women were left in the\nhouse, and the rain was beginning to fall outside. The confessions\nwere over, Mrs. Kent had set out a late supper for Father Rasle, since\nhe would have to fast till noon of the next day, and he was standing      748\nto say good-night to the last of his visitors, who even now seemed\nunwilling to leave him. While he spoke to them, some one was heard\nrunning toward the house, and the next minute a man burst into the\nroom, breathless, and bespattered with mud.\n\n\u201cThey are coming!\u201d he gasped out. \u201cRun for your life, father!\u201d\n\nIn the midst of the outcry that rose from those present, Father Rasle\nstood fixed and silent. Perhaps he was startled at the sudden and\nunexpected announcement; perhaps his color had changed; but there was\nno other sign of excitement. He calmly questioned the man, and learned\nthat a mob of fifty or more masked men were rapidly approaching the\nhouse.\n\n\u201cAnd they will kill you, father,\u201d the messenger concluded. \u201cThey don\u2019t\nput on masks and come at night to break windows. They can do that in\nbroad daylight. For God\u2019s sake, save yourself!\u201d\n\n\u201cThey shall take me where I am,\u201d the priest said firmly. \u201cIt is the\nwill of God. I will not resist, and I have nowhere to fly to.\u201d\n\n\u201cHere is hot water. Put on more!\u201d cried one of the women. We\u2019ll scald\nthem!\u201d And instantly they took the boiling tea-kettle from the fire,\nand put cold water to heat.\n\n\u201cRun over to the lane, and rouse the people!\u201d cried another. \u201cThey\u2019ll\nkill everybody in the town in your defence, father, if you say the\nword.\u201d\n\n\u201cMy children, I command you to use no violence, and make no\nresistance,\u201d the priest said with authority. \u201cIf the people rise, it\nwill be to their own destruction. Pray! It is all that you can do.\u201d\n\nThey fell on their knees, weeping loudly as they heard the muffled\ntramp of many feet outside. But one said, \u201cThe cellar! the cellar!\u201d\nand Mr. Kent, catching the priest\u2019s arm, almost forced him toward the\ncellar-door. It was a pitiful hiding-place; but Father Rasle had no\ntime for any thought except that, if there were a chance of escape, it\nwas his duty to take advantage of it.\n\nScarcely had he disappeared, before the outer door was thrust open,\nand the room was filled with men wearing crape masks. They came in\nsilently and swiftly, and as swiftly their companions outside\nsurrounded the house, and stationed themselves at each window to bar\nall egress.\n\nIt was not in the hearts of these poor people to utter no word of\nreproach to the perpetrators of such an outrage, even though the\npriest had commanded their silence. Mrs. Kent pointed to one man after\nanother, calling him by name. \u201cI know you under your mask!\u201d she cried.\n\u201cAnd the Almighty would find you if I didn\u2019t.\u201d\n\nNo one replied to her. The only one of the mob who spoke was he who\nseemed to be their leader. \u201cWhere is the priest?\u201d he asked.\n\nOf course no one told him.\n\nThe lower rooms and the attic were searched, and there remained but\none place. The hearts of the Christians died within them as the leader\nof the mob took a candle from the table, and went toward the\ncellar-door. A girl who was near the door caught up a chair to defend\nthe passage, but another took it from her, and pulled her down to her\nknees. The next moment Father Rasle was led out amid the sobs and\nprayers of his children. He was very pale, but perfectly calm, and,\nlike his divine Master, he uttered not a word. But as the mob\nsurrounded and led him away, he cast one glance on those who knelt and\nstretched their clasped hands toward him, and raised his hand in\nsilent benediction. That he was being led to death, neither he nor        749\nthey doubted. And they had no reason to doubt it. What violence, short\nof murder, had these men any reason to fear to do in open daylight?\nAnd might they not well believe that even the murderer could escape if\nhe had only the law against him? This was not true only of Seaton.\nMany a Catholic priest in the United States, at that time, owed the\npreservation of his life, not to a fear of the law, but to a fear of\nCatholic vengeance.\n\nThey did not take their victim through the lane which Edith had\nfollowed, but through a shorter one leading to High Street. The family\nliving in the house at the corner of this street were well-bred\npeople, and, though Protestants, friends to Father Rasle. He had been\nreceived in that house as a guest; and now, seeing a light in one of\nthe rooms, the instinct of preservation rose, and forced a cry from\nhim. \u201cSave me!\u201d he cried out, calling the man by name.\n\nThose nearest immediately silenced him with threats. If he spoke\nagain, they said, they would kill him on the spot.\n\nHis voice had not been heard, and the faint hope faded as quickly as\nit had risen.\n\nThey avoided the thickly-settled part of the town, and took their way\ndown one of the back streets leading to the river. Half-way down they\nmet a man on horseback, carrying a lantern. He held the light up, and\nasked whom they had there.\n\n\u201cNo one,\u201d they replied, making haste to conceal their prisoner. \u201cWe\nhave no one with us.\u201d\n\nNot till too late did Father Rasle know that he had missed another\nchance of escape, and that it was the sheriff who had met them.\n\nThe mob, feeling now secure of their prey, could indulge in revilings.\n\u201cSo they persecuted Jesus of old,\u201d said one, with a laugh.\n\n\u201cWill the Virgin save you?\u201d asked another.\n\nBut enough. One does not repeat the talk of those through whose lips\nthe arch-fiend speaks without disguise. They reviling, and he praying,\ndisappeared in the darkness and the storm.\n\nEdith Yorke had passed that evening in her own room. It had been her\ncustom to keep the eve of her communions in retirement, and to-night\nshe had more than ordinary food for reflection. It was almost eleven\no\u2019clock when she began to prepare herself for bed, but she still heard\nher aunt and Clara up downstairs. Mrs. Yorke had not been well, and,\nunwilling that her husband should lose his rest, had sent him upstairs\nto sleep, and kept Clara with her. Edith was just thinking that she\nhad a mind to go down and see how her aunt was, when she heard the\nsmall gate of the avenue open, and shut again instantly, as if some\none had run through.\n\nHer window was partly raised. She threw it up, and stepped out on to\nthe top of the portico. Her heart divined the danger at once. Already\nthe messenger was half-way up the avenue, and, before she could see\nthat it was a woman, she heard her panting breath and half-exhausted\nvoice: \u201cHelp! They are killing Father Rasle!\u201d\n\nA faintness as of death swept over Edith. She would have spoken, but\ncould only sink on her knees and lean over the railing. Mrs. Yorke,\ntoo, had heard the click of the gate, and had opened the sitting-room\nwindow, and Edith heard her voice and Clara\u2019s. To them the woman told\nher story.\n\n\u201cDo not speak loudly,\u201d Mrs. Yorke said. \u201cMr. Yorke and Edith must not     750\nknow. They can do no good, and would only make trouble. Clara, go and\nwake Patrick, and do it quietly. I tell you, my poor woman, my husband\ncould do nothing, and I shall not allow him to be called.\u201d\n\nEdith grew strong the moment she knew the truth. The woman had left\nthe house before Father Rasle did, and a rescue might still be\npossible. She opened her door noiselessly, stepped out, and closed it\nafter her; then fled down the back-stairs, out through the back-door,\nand down the avenue to the upper gate. Reaching the road, she flew\nover it with winged feet. At North Street, instead of going down\ntoward the centre of the town, she crossed to a lumber-road leading to\nthe river. The bridge was far below, but one who dared could go over\nhere on the boom that kept the logs. Edith dared, considering the\nperil not worth a thought. When some bugle-toned reveille of the soul\nwakes up our slumbering faith, then miracles become possible.\n\nThe bank was high on the eastern side, and the descent was by two\nimmense timbers, or masts, chained together and chained to the shore\nat the upper end, and to the boom at the lower. The inclination was\nsteep, and those who walked through the air on that slippery bridge\nstepped warily even by day, timing their steps to the heavy vibrations\nof the timber. But Edith ran fleetly down, and sprang on to the\nswaying boom ankle-deep in water. Lumber-mills above and below sent\nout their long lines of red light through the misty darkness, and the\nnoise of their saws was like the grinding of teeth. The logs knocked\nagainst each other with a dull thump as the river flowed, and here and\nthere little spaces of water glistened. To slip into one of those black\nholes was death. You miss the boom, and step on a log instead, and,\nunless you are a practised log-walker--possibly, too, if you are--the\nlog rolls, you go under, and there is an end of you. You cannot scream\nwhen you are under water; you cannot rise to the surface, for the logs\nkeep you down, or close together and crush you, and no one can see\nyou.\n\nThe boom did not reach straight but zigzagged across the river, the\nlengths chained together, but not closely, and hidden under water. In\nthose spaces, the logs, trying to get through, pushed their bobbing\nends up, and tempted the foot. More than once Edith\u2019s foot was in that\ntrap, but she did not sink till just as she reached the western bank.\nThen, as she went down, she caught an overhanging sapling, and drew\nherself to land, wet to the waist.\n\nIrish Lane did not reach so far up, by about a quarter of a mile, and\nthere was no road, the way being pasture and ledge. As Edith reached\nthe upper end of the lane, some one else came into it from the lower\nend, next the bridge, and she heard a woman\u2019s voice lamenting. She did\nnot stop for lamentation, but ran from house to house, bidding them\ncome out and save Father Rasle.\n\nThey gathered immediately, asking questions all in confusion, knowing\nnot which way to go, but ready to follow her lead. Had they no rifles\nnor pistols? No; why should they have them? An Irishman\u2019s weapon was\nhis fist and a cudgel, and whatever he could catch by the way.\n\nAn Irishman, indeed, usually goes into battle first, and arms himself\nafterward.\n\nBut the enthusiasm which Edith\u2019s words had kindled the other messenger\nsoon quenched. It was too late to save him, she said. He had been         751\ncarried away, they knew not whither. Of course he must be dead long\nbefore that time. And he had bid them farewell, and commanded them to\nuse no violence--to do nothing but pray.\n\nEdith heard no more. The hand that, in her earnestness, she had laid\non some one\u2019s arm, slipped off, and she dropped to the ground without\na word.\n\nIt was more than half-past eleven o\u2019clock, and raining quite hard, and\nthe wind had begun to rise. Broken and dispirited, the Catholics went\ninto their houses again, but not to sleep. In one of these houses\nEdith opened her eyes, and saw about twenty persons gathered, some\nbending over her, others praying, others walking about and wringing\ntheir hands. She got up. \u201cI wish that you would all kneel down, and\nsay the litany of our Lord Jesus,\u201d she said. \u201cI am going to find\nFather Rasle.\u201d\n\nIt needed only that something should be proposed for them to do. The\nman of the house took his prayer-book, and they all knelt. Others came\nin and filled the room, frightened children cowering close to their\nelders, and watching the door, as if they expected to see a foe enter.\n\nEdith went slowly out. One of the women had kindly put a shawl over\nher shoulders, but she was quite unconscious of the storm. The town\nclock was striking twelve, and as she stopped to count its strokes,\nthe chorus of praying voices reached her through the open door:\n\n    \u201cJesus, King of Glory, have mercy on us!\n     Jesus, the Sun of Justice, have mercy on us!\u201d\n\n\u201cO Sun of Justice!\u201d she repeated, and lifted her clasped hands.\n\nShe went on, but heard again, in a pause of the storm:\n\n    \u201cJesus, most patient, have mercy on us!\n     Jesus, most obedient, have mercy on us!\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! yes, patience! It is not for us to invoke justice,\u201d she thought.\n\n\u201c\u2018Enter not into judgment with thy servant, O Lord! for in thy sight\nshall no man living be justified.\u2019\u201d\n\nThe road was heavy with mud, and in the darkness she scarcely could\nfind her way. Only the occasional twinkle of a lighted window told\nwhere it did not lie. She went wearily, for the spirit that had\nsustained her while there was hope failed now, and the storm grew\nevery minute worse. In another lull there came again, more faintly:\n\n    \u201cJesus, the good Shepherd, have mercy on us!\n     Jesus, the true Light, have mercy on us!\u201d\n\nAt that tender petition the tears started forth, and she walked on\nweeping. They were indeed as sheep among wolves. The blast almost\nswept her off her feet, and in some sudden current snatched the sound\nof prayer, and brought it to her once more, clearly as if it had been\ncried in her very ears:\n\n    \u201cJesus, the Strength of martyrs, have mercy on us!\u201d\n\nThe wind went sighing off to right and left, and opened a pathway of\ncalm before her, in which she walked firmly, wiping her tears away,\nand taking courage again.\n\nAt the entrance to the lane, near the bridge, she paused and looked\nback. All was darkness there, but out of the dakness came faintly,\n\u201cLamb of God--\u201d It was all she heard, and it was all! It meant\npatience, humility, immolation, and final triumph.\n\nThe cottage where Father Rasle had been was all alight when Edith came\nin sight of it, and as she approached the door a man came out and\nalmost ran against her.\n\n\u201cWhere is he?\u201d she asked.                                                 752\n\n\u201cWhy, Miss Edith!\u201d exclaimed Patrick Chester.\n\nShe only repeated her question.\n\n\u201cHe has come back,\u201d Patrick answered, \u201cand Dr. Willis is with him.\u201d\n\n\u201cWill he die?\u201d she whispered.\n\n\u201cNo, Miss Edith; but he has been vilely used. He was out two hours in\nthis storm. He found his way back more dead than alive. He has been\ntarred and feathered.\u201d\n\nShe cried out in disgust: \u201cThe brutes! They were, then, too base for\nmurder!\u201d\n\n\u201cYou may say that,\u201d Patrick answered. \u201cBut now come home. You can\u2019t\nsee him, you know.\u201d\n\nBut she would not go till she had heard his voice, and Patrick was\nobliged to go back to the entry with her. The entry was filled with\nmen and women, all listening for any news that might reach them. The\ndoor was ajar into the kitchen, where two or three men were admitted.\nThe priest was with the doctor in an inner room.\n\n\u201cYou had better drink this,\u201d they heard Dr. Willis say; and Father\nRasle\u2019s voice replied: \u201cNo, doctor. It is after twelve o\u2019clock, and I\nmust say Mass to-morrow.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut, if you do not take it, you may be very sick,\u201d the doctor\npersisted.\n\n\u201cI cannot take it,\u201d Father Rasle said again. \u201cMy people must not be\ndisappointed.\u201d\n\n\u201cThank God, it is really he!\u201d Edith exclaimed. \u201cCome, Patrick, we will\ngo home now.\u201d\n\nMrs. Yorke, fearing to alarm her husband, had put out the lights, and\nEdith, seeing the house all dark, took no precaution to conceal\nherself in approaching it. The first notice she had, therefore, that\nany of the family were awake, was her aunt\u2019s frightened voice calling\nfrom the open window of the sitting-room, \u201cIs it Edith? Has Edith been\nout?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, but I am safe back, auntie,\u201d she made haste to say; \u201cand\neverything is right.\u201d\n\nClara, Melicent, and Betsey were there. No one in the house slept but\nMr. Yorke and the two Pattens, and, since the worst was probably over,\nit was not so much matter now if they waked. So a large fire was\nkindled, and Edith\u2019s dripping garments taken off, while Patrick told\nhis story. Then she also told where she had been, and smiled at their\nterror.\n\n\u201cBut to cross the river on the logs and boom!\u201d her aunt cried. \u201cWhy,\nchild, your escape is a miracle! If you had fallen in, you would\nsurely have been drowned.\u201d\n\n\u201cI could not have drowned tonight,\u201d Edith answered. \u201cIf I had fallen\nin, I should have set the river on fire.\u201d\n\n                          TO BE CONTINUED.\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n            THE DUTIES OF THE RICH IN CHRISTIAN SOCIETY.                  753\n\n                              NO. II.\n\n                          POLITICAL DUTIES.\n\n\nIn order to discuss clearly and profitably the various duties of the\nrich in Christian society, it is necessary to distinguish and divide\nthem into distinct classes, and under the classes to separate\nparticular duties from each other. We shall make our division on the\nprinciple of proceeding from the most general, or those which relate\nto society in its most extensive sense, to those which are less\ngeneral, relating to society in its more specific and determinate\nsense, and finally to those which are the most particular, relating to\nseparate portions and members of society, to the family and to the\nindividual.\n\nSociety, in the most extensive sense with which we are concerned in\nthese essays, is political society as organized in our own republic by\nfederal, state, and municipal constitutions and laws. We venture to\nassume that it may be called a Christian society. It is so, however,\nin a wider, more general, and less determinate sense than the church,\nor than a purely Catholic state. We call it a Christian society, in\nthis sense, that its fundamental moral principles have been derived\nfrom the Christian law; that its organic life is an outcome from\nChristian civilization. It does not, however, exclude from itself\nthose who are not Christians, provided they conform to its moral\nprinciples and to the laws founded upon them. A Catholic citizen has\nduties to a state which is pagan. He has duties to a state which\nprofesses to be Christian, but adopts a schismatical or heretical\nperversion of Christianity as the religion of the state. But he has\nmany more duties, because he stands in a much closer and more\nhonorable relation to a state which is based on the moral principles\nof Christianity, and not identified with any ecclesiastical form which\nis hostile to his conscience. All Catholic citizens of our republic\nhave political duties, modified, multiplied, and intensified by the\nextent and quality of the rights which they possess, and the greatness\nof the interests which they have at stake in the welfare of the\ncommonwealth. The wealthy class have in common with their\nfellow-citizens all these duties, and additional ones peculiar to\nthemselves.\n\nThe general reasons which prove this last proposition apply with equal\nforce to all who belong to the wealthy class, even though they do not\nprofess to be, in any sense of the term, Christians. The first of\nthese reasons is, that the rich have succeeded in great measure to the\nadvantages formerly possessed by the class of nobles. Even in those\ncountries where the noble class still subsists, it is chiefly as a\nwealthy and educated class, and by the personal superiority of\nindividuals belonging to it in the professions of arms and\nstatesmanship, that it wields actual power. Moreover, the wealthy\n_bourgeoisie_ has gained ground upon it and invaded its formerly\nexclusive sphere, winning for itself, as in England, for instance, a      754\nplace in the real aristocracy. In our own country, where hereditary\nrank does not exist, it has a clear field. It has no special rights in\nthe political order, and is not, therefore, strictly and completely\nthe successor of the noble class in our ancestral British\nconstitution. Yet, by the very fact of being a wealthy class, it does\npossess, and ought to possess, a certain pre-eminence, influence, and\nreal though indirect power in public affairs. Men of superior\nintellectual ability, men of learning and letters, those who fill the\nhigher professional positions, and office-holders, belong to the same\nclass; partly because their position in many instances gives them at\nleast a moderate share of wealth, but chiefly because they have power\nby their very position, and are able to influence and direct the\ndisposition of wealth even when they do not personally possess it. By\nthis very fact, they have duties to the commonwealth--they are not\nmere private persons, but public persons. They are important and\ndistinguished members of the community, and, as such, have a greater\nresponsibility to society and the state than others. This will not be\ndisputed as a general statement. We do not intend to go into a minute\nand detailed exposition of all the particulars which it includes and\ncomprehends. We confine ourselves, for the present, to certain\nspecific duties of those who are rich in the literal and technical\nsense. And what we have to say of them is, that they ought to fulfil\nthe duties which were annexed to the privileges of the class to which\nthey succeeded, in so far as they have inherited those privileges.\n\nHowever grossly feudal barons may have in a multitude of instances\nabused their privileges and their powers, the Christian idea of their\nstate was always that their privileges and powers were entrusted to\nthem for the common good. Sound political philosophy and common sense\naccord with the higher teaching of Christianity. It would be,\ntherefore, a great change for the worse, a miserable regression in\ncivilization, if a mere moneyed aristocracy, possessing privileges\nwithout corresponding duties, took the place of an aristocracy of\nbirth, obliged by its nobility to render the most important services\nto the state. A mere _caste_ existing for itself, having no end but\nthe selfish exaltation and enjoyment of its members, with no purpose\nexcept to live in fine houses, wear fine clothes, drink choice wines,\ndrive about in sumptuous equipages, and finally get buried in great\npomp under stately monuments, would be the most anti-Christian, the\nmost despicable, the most odious of constitutions--and would be\n_succeeded by Communism_.\n\nThe rich have political duties: they are bound to be a bulwark and a\ntower of strength to the state, an ornament to the commonwealth not\nonly bright, but useful; as a quaint epitaph of the seventeenth\ncentury designates a certain eminent citizen, \u201c_of Hartford Town the\nSilver Ornament_.\u201d We presuppose in those men of wealth of whom we\nspeak, as a matter of course, honesty and probity. Swindlers,\ngamblers, dishonest speculators, bribe-takers, and the whole set of\nvampires swollen with the blood of the state and of individuals, are\nexcluded. It is those who have inherited or acquired their wealth\nhonestly who are able to serve the state. It is not necessary to go\nmore into detail regarding the ways and methods in which they can do\nso. We are content merely to indicate their ability and obligation to\ndo it in general terms, and pass on to other topics.\n\nOne of these other topics relates to a duty of Catholic citizens which    755\nis properly classed under the head of political duties, but which we\ndo not consider precisely as a duty to the state as such, but as one\nwhich Catholics owe to themselves, to their own personal rights of\nconscience, and to religion. We call it, nevertheless, a political\nduty, because it has to be performed by them as citizens, and in the\nexercise of their political rights. This is the duty of guarding and\ndefending their liberty of conscience against any encroachment which\nmay be attempted by any political party, or any legislation contrary\nto the letter or spirit of our fundamental law. This duty, which is\none of all Catholic citizens indiscriminately, devolves especially on\nthose whose wealth, education, intellectual power, or social and\npolitical position gives them a special opportunity and ability to\nfulfil it. Such persons are the natural chiefs and leaders of the\nCatholic laity; they are in the front rank; and they are bound to give\nthe example, encouragement, and direction to the great body which they\nneed and justly look for.\n\nWhat can be more base and cowardly than for those who have a higher\nplace in society than their fellows, and who have ordinarily risen\nfrom the ranks of the poor, laboring class of our Catholic people, to\ndesert or regard with apathy that sacred cause for which their\nancestors suffered and died, and for the sake of which they have\nsought an asylum in this free country, where they have found success\nand prosperity? Here they have found that inestimable boon, liberty of\nconscience, freedom to profess and practise their religion, and to\nprovide for their posterity the means of doing the same. They are\nbound to use all the power and influence which God has given\nthem to preserve and perpetuate these rights, and to protect the more\nhelpless classes of their fellow-Catholics, the poor, the orphans, the\nsick, the outcasts of society, in the enjoyment of their religious\nrights. This includes a great deal. First and foremost at the present\nmoment is liberty of education. Besides this, there are the rights of\nreligious instruction and sacraments for those who are in the army and\nnavy, in hospitals, asylums, and prisons, and in those institutions\nwhere children are justly or unjustly placed by the civil authority as\nvagrants. In short, everywhere, where the state takes hold of the\nindividual, or exercises a right of control over any lesser\ncorporation which takes hold of him, in such a way that there is a\nchance for tyranny over his conscience, and the violation or\nabridgment of his religious rights and liberty in the interest of\nsectarianism or secularism, it is the duty of the most eminent\nCatholic laymen to become, together with their bishops and priests,\nthe champions of the oppressed.\n\nDoes any one say that there is no need of vigilance or action, because\nthere is no danger that our rights will be disregarded or infringed?\nWe think he is in error. \u201cEternal vigilance is the price of liberty.\u201d\nAnd as one proof that Catholics in this republic have need to exercise\nthis vigilance, we will cite an example of the disastrous consequences\nwhich have followed from the neglect of it in another republic.\n\nThe Confederation of the Swiss Cantons established and guaranteed in\nthe most solemn and explicit manner the liberty of religion for\nCatholics and Protestants alike. Nevertheless, the liberty of the\nCatholic Church has been taken away in the most flagrant manner, even\nin the Catholic Cantons, by tyrannical federal and cantonal               756\nlegislation. Fifty religious establishments were suppressed at one\nblow. Since that time,--that is, since 1848--religious houses and\nschools have been forcibly suppressed at Ascona, Lugano, Mendrisio,\nand Bellinzona, and the diocesan seminaries at Pollegio and Aargau.\nNearly all the Catholic schools in most of the mixed cantons have been\nchanged into mixed schools, and in Thurgau they have been all\nsuppressed. No priest can be admitted to the exercise of his functions\nwho has studied at any Jesuit college. The catechism of the bishop in\nwhose diocese Aargau is situated, the Bible History of Schuster, and\nthe Moral Theologies of Gury and Kenrick, have been interdicted by the\ncivil authority. Prohibitions have been issued against missions,\nretreats, the publication of the Jubilee, and the devotions of the\nMonth of Mary. In Aargau, no youth can embrace the ecclesiastical\nstate without the leave of the cantonal assembly, before which august\nand holy tribunal he must pass two examinations. In the Catholic\ncanton of Ticino, the cantonal assembly arrogates to itself the right\nof changing the destination of religious foundations, fixing and\nregulating the election, installation in benefices, and official\nfunctions of beneficiaries, erecting new parishes and abolishing\nexisting ones. The _placet_ of the civil authority is requisite for\nall ecclesiastical decrees of the bishops and the Pope under penalty\nof fines varying from five to five thousand francs. In several cantons\ncivil marriage is obligatory. In short, the Catholics of Switzerland\nare in an enslaved and insupportable condition, as is proved by a\nmemorial of the whole body of the Swiss Episcopate, in which these and\nmany other particulars are given.[158]\n\nThe profession of liberalism affords no guarantee to Catholics against\nthe most flagrant and cruel oppression. Neither is there any security\nin the mere fact that the form of government is democratic or\nrepublican. Everywhere, as well in countries called Catholic as in\nthose which are not, under republican as well as under monarchical\nconstitutions, the price of liberty is unceasing vigilance and\nactivity. Catholics must rely entirely on themselves, and not delegate\nthe office of protecting them to any party or ruling power. This is\nnecessary in the United States as well as in Switzerland. We do not\nascribe to the majority of the non-Catholic citizens of our federal\nrepublic or of any state a disposition to abridge our liberty. But it\nis not the majority which really governs. Principles, maxims,\narguments, watch-words, measures, are initiated by a few persons.\nMajorities are carried along by leaders, orators, writers for the\npress, they know not why, how, or toward what end. There is danger,\ntherefore, though not from the American people, from the masters of\nstate-craft, but from restless, revolutionary spirits, from violent\nsectarian leaders, from ambitious demagogues, from parties which may\nstart up and be violently impelled by sudden excitements.\n\nThe conclusion of all this is, that the _\u00e9lite_ of the Catholic laity\nare bound to understand the sound Catholic principles of public law\nand right which are involved in the relation of liberty of conscience\nand religion to the sovereignty of the state, under our American\nrepublican institutions. They are bound to instruct those who are\nuneducated in their rights and obligations as citizens. They are bound\nto set before the public the grounds and reasons of Catholic rights,      757\nas based on the natural and divine law, and the American constitution.\nAnd they are bound to exclude unprincipled, ignorant demagogues from\nthe leadership of the Catholic people by taking it themselves, and in\nthat position opposing with all their might every political scheme for\ngiving the state a usurped power over conscience and religion. Those\nwho are incapable of doing anything else in this direction can at\nleast aid by their wealth the Catholic press in diffusing true and\njust ideas, and advocating Catholic rights.\n\n\n     [158] See _Dublin Review_ for October, 1871.\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n                        TRAVELS IN THE AIR.\n\n\nAbout ninety years ago, on the memorable 21st of November, 1783, the\nParisian world had a sensation which can never be repeated. On that\nday, men for the first time dared to trust themselves in a balloon,\nwhich was to be freed entirely from the earth, and take, as we may\nsay, its chance as to the time and manner in which it was to return to\nit. One can easily imagine the intense excitement and admiration which\nmust have filled the hearts of the spectators, and the feelings of\ntriumph, though mingled, it must needs have been, with some\napprehension, on the part of the occupants of the car, the Marquis\nd\u2019Arlandes and M. Pil\u00e2tre de Rozier, when they for the first time,\ntrusting themselves to the care of their new machine, invented only a\nfew months previously, were carried by it into the unknown region of\nthe clouds. Fortunately, this first free ascent was a success; if it\nhad not been, who knows how long further experiments in aeronautics\nmight have been postponed by prohibitory laws or by the fears of men,\nboth of which would certainly have been quite justifiable? As it was,\nthis first excursion served as a stimulus to other attempts, and the\nnumber which have been made since then is beyond all estimate. It is\ncertain, however, that the immense majority of them have been every\nway as successful as this first one was, and many, of course, very\nmuch more so. The danger of balloon ascents is really very trifling;\naccidents occur hardly once in a hundred times, and very seldom, when\nthey do occur, involve the loss of life. It is hardly more dangerous\nto travel by balloon than by railway or steamer, and certainly very\nmuch more agreeable.\n\nIf our reader desires a most convincing proof of this last statement,\nwe cannot do better than to refer him to a book bearing the title\nwhich stands at the head of this article, and imported by Lippincott &\nCo. We must confess to having become somewhat enthusiastic on the\nsubject of balloons since reading this book, and hardly think any one\nelse who even looks at it can fail to have something of the same\nfeeling. By a mere glance at it one is introduced to quite a new\nworld, and to read it is the next best thing to going up above\nthe clouds one\u2019s self. It is illustrated by six beautiful\nchromo-lithographs, and has a hundred and twenty other illustrations.\n\nMr. Glaisher, the editor, is a thoroughly scientific man, possessed of    758\nremarkable steadiness and coolness, as his name would imply, and as\nthe accounts of his voyages sufficiently demonstrate. He is one of the\nbest meteorologists in the world, and it is in the interests of\nscience that his ascents have been made. But, together with the\naccounts of his own excursions, he gives others by three French\ngentlemen, also accomplished aeronauts, and whose enthusiasm on the\nsubject almost equals our own, and practically perhaps surpasses it,\nfor we find that M. Tissandier seems to have had no objection to\nstarting from Calais when the wind was blowing straight out toward the\nGerman Ocean. These gentlemen, MM. Flammarion, De Fonvielle, and\nTissandier, just named, often made long journeys, landing at a point\nquite remote from that of starting--a thing almost out of the question\nfor Mr. Glaisher, for, as he pathetically remarks, \u201cwhatever part of\nEngland we start from, in one hour we may be over the sea.\u201d His\nendeavor rather was, in the short time allotted him, to rush for the\nupper regions of the atmosphere, in order that he might there, as well\nas on the way up and down, make observations on temperature,\nelectricity, magnetism, sound, solar radiation, the spectrum, ozone,\ndirection of wind (for this, as before remarked, his opportunity was\nlimited), actinic effects of the sun, density of the clouds, etc., and\nhe consequently went up quite beleaguered with instruments, as the\nillustration \u201cMr. Glaisher in the car\u201d clearly shows. The effects of\ngreat elevation on the human constitution naturally did not escape his\nattention, nor that of his companion and aeronaut, Mr. Coxwell; he\nsays that, on one occasion, \u201cat the height of three miles and a half,\nMr. Coxwell said my face was of a glowing purple, and higher still,\nboth our faces were blue. Truly a pleasing state of things!\u201d\n\nBut three miles and a half was a small elevation for Mr. Glaisher. In\nseveral of his ascents, he rose to the height of about five miles, on\none occasion meeting with dense clouds all the way up. Certainly such\nclouds are not common, except in \u201cour old home\u201d; but such a day as\nthat must have been even an Englishman could hardly have called\n\u201cfine.\u201d His third ascent, on September 5, 1862, was the most\ninteresting of all; in this he rose to the astonishing height of\n_seven miles_, or 37,000 feet. Probably our readers have generally\nbeen accustomed to see in their atlases, by the side of the enormous\ncongeries of mountains which usually forms the frontispiece, a small\npicture of a balloon, with \u201chighest point ever reached by man,\u201d or\nwords to that effect, appended to it, at the elevation of 23,000 feet;\nwith a reference to the name of Gay-Lussac. But this ascent, made on\nSeptember 15, 1804, is entirely insignificant now, compared with this\nstupendous one, to a point a mile and a half above the summit of the\nHimalaya Mountains, into regions where only one-quarter of the\natmosphere lay above the aeronauts, and where it was rarefied about in\nthe same proportion. If their faces were blue at four miles, what were\nthey now?\n\nThe account of this ascent is very exciting, and at the same time\nplaces Mr. Glaisher\u2019s qualities as an observer in the most favorable\nlight. In company with Mr. Coxwell, who was his pilot as usual, he\nleft Wolverhampton at about one o\u2019clock, and attained the height of\nfive miles in about fifty minutes. Think of that, compared with the\ntrouble of ascending an Alpine peak, where, after many hours of most      759\nexhausting labor, one can only get three miles above the sea! And Mr.\nGlaisher, instead of having to strain every muscle in his body, was\nable to sit quiet, and calmly observe the barometer, thermometer, etc.\nThe balloon was, however, revolving so rapidly that he failed in\ntaking photographic views. Mr. Coxwell had more exhausting work in the\nmanagement of the balloon, and was panting for breath when they were\nthree miles high. For two miles more, however, Mr. Glaisher \u201ctook\nobservations with comfort.\u201d But, \u201cabout 1h. 52m., or later,\u201d he made\nhis last reading; after this he could not see the divisions of the\ninstruments, and asked Mr. Coxwell to help read them. They probably\nwere beginning to think it was time to see about coming down; but in\norder to do so, the valve-rope had to be pulled, and it was caught in\nthe rigging above, owing to the rotatory motion of the balloon. The\nthermometer was about ten degrees below zero; Mr. Glaisher was fast\nbecoming insensible, and Mr. Coxwell\u2019s hands were almost useless from\nnumbness. Still, something had to be done, for they were rising a\nthousand feet every minute; and accordingly, Mr. Coxwell climbed into\nthe ring of the balloon, and pulled the rope with his teeth. He has\nthe proud distinction of having been five or six feet higher above the\nearth than any other man, for of course they immediately began to\ndescend. On coming back to the car, he found his companion quite\ninsensible; after a few minutes, Mr. Glaisher came to himself, as they\nsank from that terrible elevation, to which it is probably impossible\nfor man safely to ascend. But, like a thoroughly scientific man, as he\nis, he had observed his sensations to the last. First, his arms and legs\ngave out; and his neck became weak, so that his head fell over to\none side; he shook himself, and noticed that he \u201chad power over the\nmuscles of his back, and considerably so over those of the neck.\u201d This\nsuddenly left him, however, and the sense of sight immediately\nafterward; as for hearing, he could not tell, as there was probably\nnothing to hear at that height. He fell back helpless, resting his\nshoulder on the edge of the car. The next words he heard were\n\u201ctemperature\u201d and \u201cobservation\u201d; it can hardly be supposed that these\nwere the first words Mr. Coxwell employed to rouse him, though they\nwere probably the best. Then \u201cthe instruments became dimly visible.\u201d\nImmediately on recovering, he says: \u201cI drew up my legs, which had been\nextended, and _took a pencil in my hand to begin observations_.\u201d Is\nnot this characteristic?\n\nPerhaps it may not be clear how it can be proved that the height of\nseven miles was attained on this occasion. It is, of course, well\nknown that the elevation of a balloon is determined, as that of a\nmountain-peak usually is, by the barometer; and this method is very\naccurate, though, if there be a rapid motion upward or downward, the\nbarometer may lag a little. Still, it gives the absolute height, and\nalso the rate of ascent or descent, with sufficient accuracy for all\npractical purposes. By this instrument Mr. Glaisher had found that,\njust before he became insensible, they were 29,000 feet high, and\nascending at the rate of 1,000 feet a minute; when he recovered after\nthe lapse of thirteen minutes, they were 26,000 feet high, and\ndescending 2,000 feet a minute. These data are sufficient to determine\nthe greatest height attained; but Mr. Coxwell also, on coming down\nfrom the ring, happened to glance at the aneroid barometer, and           760\nafterward remembered pretty nearly the direction of its hand; its\nreading confirms the conclusion got by the other method. A minimum\nthermometer agreed in the same result. They landed safely at about\ntwenty minutes to three, the whole excursion having taken only a\nlittle over an hour and a half. The illustration called \u201cMr. Glaisher\ninsensible at the height of seven miles\u201d is one of the most remarkable\nin the book, and most readers will probable turn to it repeatedly. It\nrepresents the supreme and critical moment; Mr. Coxwell is in the\nring, and is just loosening the valve-rope. His hands, his companion\ntells us, were black when he came down; and Mr. Glaisher generally\nmeans what he says.\n\nIt is not every one who will care to compete with these gentlemen in\nmaking lofty ascents; and it is not probable that they had any merely\nambitious motives in undertaking to soar so high. Mr. Glaisher\u2019s\nenthusiasm for and interest in science are perfectly genuine; and his\nresults, which are of course only hinted at in these popular accounts\nwhich he gives of his excursions, are very valuable. It is not likely\nthat any one else could have accomplished so much as he did. Still,\nthough they were not led on by ambition, their achievement on the\noccasion just mentioned is one which must discourage others who may\nbe; for it would be very difficult and dangerous to attempt to do\npurposely what they did only as it were accidentally, and which they\nwould not have done had they known its peril. There are, it is true,\nsome remarkable effects, such as the blackening of the sky (as well as\nof the hands of the aeronauts), which cannot be so well attained at\nlower altitudes; but still, substantially the same can be enjoyed at\nheights of four or five miles, and really the most beautiful ones are\npresented as soon as we rise above the clouds. The effect seems to us,\njudging from the illustrations, to be especially magical when the\ncanopy (or carpet, as it may more properly be called from our new\npoint of view) is complete, so as to reach to the horizon, and shut\nout all view or idea of the earth completely. Many of the pictures\nillustrate this well. One would seem to lose all sense of height or of\nbeing in a dangerous position; the quiet sea of clouds beneath can\nnever seem very distant, owing to the impossibility of judging of the\nreal dimensions of its rolling waves; and these waves seem, by their\napparent solidity yet softness, almost to invite a fall. And one seems\nto be entirely in a new state of existence; the change is more\ncomplete than could be obtained by travelling to the other side of the\nglobe; and yet it can be realized in the space of five or ten minutes\non any ordinary cloudy day. There above, with the dark-blue sky\noverhead, with the glorious bright sun in it lighting up the masses of\nwhite vapor below, far from all the dust, noise, and confusion of the\nlower sphere, what an exhilaration must the aeronaut feel, if indeed\nhis eye is not entirely employed on the divisions of his barometer and\nthe pages of his note-book! The idea of such a vision is almost enough\nto make one\u2019s enthusiasm for ballooning equal that of M. de Fonvielle,\nwho, however, was willing to put up even with lower elevations; for he\nsays that in his younger days he \u201cwas ready to be shut up in a\nsky-rocket, provided that its projectile power were carefully\ncalculated, and that it were provided with a parachute\u201d! If the\nsky-rocket could only be sent above the clouds--but, on the whole, one\nwould probably be calmer, enjoy the view more thoroughly, and take in     761\nits various features better, in the car of our present beautiful and\nmajestic, though somewhat unmanageable, vehicle.\n\nAnd yet in all respects the balloon is not unmanageable. Its rise and\nfall can be regulated with great exactness; and by means of the pretty\ninvention of the guide-rope, due to the celebrated English aeronaut,\nMr. Green, its final fall to the earth, if a violent wind is not\nblowing, can be made very easy. This rope hangs down three or four\nhundred feet below the car, and as it touches the ground, and then\ncoils up upon it, the weight and the descending power of the balloon\nare continually and gradually lessened. And by parting with gas or\nballast, the ascent and descent can always be most carefully adjusted;\nso much so, indeed, that one has to be somewhat careful. Once M.\nTissandier, on making a second ascent with no more ascending power at\nhis disposal, was obliged to regret that he had not gone without his\nbreakfast; the least little alteration of weight affects the\nequilibrium so much that the loss of a chicken-bone which he\nthoughtlessly once threw out, he says, \u201ccertainly caused us to rise\nfrom twenty to thirty yards.\u201d One can certainly rise or fall without\nmuch difficulty; the only danger is that too much gas may escape after\nthe ballast is exhausted, or when there is only a small supply on\nhand, and that the descent may be too rapid. Mr. Glaisher twice at\nleast came down so hard as to break nearly all his instruments; but\nonce this was in a manner intentional, for the wind had been drifting\nhim out toward the sea, and on discovering through an opening in the\nclouds that it was almost directly under him, he had only the\nalternative of coming down with a rush or being drowned. On another\noccasion, M. de Fonvielle descended with a party in the _Giant_\nballoon in a rapid and inevitable manner, owing to the escape of gas;\nbut records, besides the breaking of the instruments, only that \u201cone\nof the travellers had his face covered with blood, another was wounded\nby a thermometer, and a third complained of a pain in his leg.\u201d One\ncurious danger there is, however, about even a quiet descent which is\nworth noticing. The last-named gentleman had just made a very\nsuccessful excursion without an aeronaut; and, on coming down, his\ngrapnel had caught in a tree near the edge of a forest. The sequel\nshall be in his own words:\n\n     \u201cAt this moment, I was deceived by an optical illusion which\n     might have had dangerous results, and I call the attention of my\n     readers to it in case they may ever be tempted to undertake the\n     management of an aerostat. Let them never get out of the car till\n     it is fairly landed upon the soil. Let them be perfectly sure\n     that no solution of continuity exists between the car and the\n     earth before they think of stepping out of it, for their eyes,\n     accustomed to the immense proportions of things above the clouds,\n     have lost their power of appreciating dimensions. Objects appear\n     so small on the earth\u2019s surface during a descent that great trees\n     look like mere blades of grass. At this moment I believed we had\n     descended upon heath bushes, and we were at the top of the high\n     trees. I had actually got one leg out of the car, and was\n     preparing to leap down!\u201d\n\nIf a strong wind is blowing, it is not so easy to descend. The\nhorizontal motion of the balloon is beyond the control of gas or\nballast. MM. de Fonvielle and Tissandier set out once in a high wind;\nthey came down on a plain, were dragged across it, and over the tops\nof some trees, which broke and crashed as they passed; again they\nrushed over some ploughed ground, where they were finally rescued by      762\nsome peasants. What was their velocity during this remarkable trip? On\nconsulting maps and watches, they found they had come forty-eight\nmiles from Paris in thirty-five minutes, or the rate of eighty miles\nan hour; in the air, however, they probably travelled faster, and in\nthe last five minutes of \u201cdragging\u201d not so fast.\n\nBut \u201cdragging\u201d is not the worst thing that can happen when there is a\nhigh wind. Let aeronauts beware how they attempt to anchor in such\ncircumstances before coming tolerably near to the ground. The grapnel\nwas once let out at the height of about sixty yards when they were\nskimming along with great velocity, and at first took no hold, but\nfinally caught in the edge of a small pond. The wind, however, took\nrevenge on the balloon, which now suddenly refused to obey its impulse:\n\n     \u201cI was busily engaged,\u201d says M. Tissandier, \u201cin stowing away the\n     loose bottles, that might have injured us seriously in case of\n     bumping, when I heard a sharp cracking sound, and Duruof [their\n     pilot] immediately cried out, \u2018_The balloon has burst!_\u2019 It was\n     too true; the _Neptune\u2019s_ side was torn open, and transformed\n     suddenly into a bundle of shreds, flattening down upon the\n     opposite half. Its appearance was now that of a disc surrounded\n     with a fringe. We came to the ground immediately. The shock was\n     awful. Duruof disappeared, I leaped into the hoop, which at that\n     instant fell upon me, together with the remains of the balloon\n     and all the contents of the car. All was darkness; I felt myself\n     rolled along the ground, and wondered if I had lost my sight, or\n     if we were buried in some hole or cavern. An instant of quiet\n     ensued, and then the loud voice of Duruof was heard exclaiming:\n     \u2018Now come from under there, you fellows!\u2019 We hastened to obey the\n     voice of the commander, and found that the car had turned over\n     upon us, and shut us up like mice in a trap!\u201d\n\nWhat next? They had fallen from a height of about two hundred feet,\nand yet were not much bruised: but the very wind that had caused their\ndisaster helped them out of it; in fact, their balloon was transformed\ninto a kind of gigantic kite, and let them down pretty easily.\n\nBut let us get up above the clouds again. That is the place really to\nenjoy life. Once there, one hardly thinks about coming down or its\ndifficulties; the earth is out of sight, and almost out of mind. We\nare sailing along, perhaps at a quicker rate than that of an express\ntrain; but the motion is as imperceptible as that immensely more rapid\none of the magnificent planetary projectile on which we are whirling\nthrough space. For the clouds are moving with us, and, though they are\nbreaking up and changing their forms, we cannot see that they move as\na mass. Occasionally, through a break, we may see the earth, or be\nsaluted from it, as M. Flammarion once was to his great surprise, by\ncries of \u201cA balloon! a balloon!\u201d when he was quite unaware of there\nbeing any hole through which the balloon could be seen. Sounds, by the\nway, will go up much better than they will come down; the reason of\nthis is the lesser density of the air above. Of course we feel no\nwind, for the wind is taking us with it: so that even the cold at any\nordinary height and at any season usual for ballooning is not\ntroublesome. Sometimes, indeed, it is warmer aloft than below; on the\noccasion of the eighty-mile-per-hour voyage, just mentioned, the\nthermometer was actually at eighty-two degrees at the height of a\nlittle over half a mile, while below it stood at fifty-five. The\nballoon is as steady as the Rock of Gibraltar; M. Flammarion assures\nus that he once filled a tumbler with water till it was brimming over,\nso that not another drop could be added; but not a drop was spilled       763\nby the movement of their vehicle, though it was travelling with the\nspeed of a locomotive, and alternately rising and falling to the\nextent of several hundred yards.\n\nHis account of a journey from Paris into Prussia, made in a beautiful\nmoonlight summer night, gives a most delightful idea of this most\nagreeable of all modes of travelling. They left Paris about two hours\nbefore sunset, and had a fine afternoon sail. The weather was cloudy,\nand rain came on at half-past nine; but what of that? One is quite\nsuperior to rain in a balloon, or, if not, may easily become so. They\nthrow out a little ballast, and rise above the rain-cloud. The cloud\nsoon breaks away, finding that it cannot embarrass their movements,\nand the country beneath becomes visible. They see a bright light in a\nhouse, and hear the sound of dance music played by an orchestra. It is\na ball. They cross the frontier at Rocroi. The lines of its\nfortifications are dimly seen in the moonlight. No examination of\npassports or luggage for them. (On another excursion, however, we are\ntold, when they were sailing along near the ground, two gendarmes rode\nup in hot haste, calling out, \u201c_Vos passe-ports, messieurs!_\u201d but were\ndismissed with a polite request to step up and verify them,\naccompanied by a shower of ballast.) The moon comes out brightly as\nthey enter Belgium. They sail over the Meuse, and M. Flammarion greets\nenthusiastically the home of his youth:\n\n     \u201cBeautiful river, I welcome thee! Near thy banks, on the old\n     mountain which overlooks thy fertile plain, I was born. Little\n     did I think, whilst playing some childish game within sound of\n     the murmur of thy ripple, that I should some day cross over thy\n     stream suspended to this light, aerial globe! Thy peaceful waters\n     flow towards the Rhine and the North Sea, into which they fall,\n     and are lost for ever. Thus is it with our own brief existence,\n     flowing towards the regions of cold and mystery, to vanish some\n     day in that unknown ocean into which we must all descend.\u201d\n\nCertainly, it is a pity that he takes such a gloomy view of life.\n\nThe pilot, M. Godard, rouses him from his reverie.\n\n     \u201cSee, _mon ami_, how beautiful this is! Do not dream of days gone\n     by. Are not those the lights of Namur, some six or eight leagues\n     distant? And see, there is Huy, and beyond it again Li\u00e8ge! Here\n     we are right over Belgium, and we may cross a corner of Holland,\n     perhaps, before we enter Prussia!\u201d\n\nThe Belgian blast-furnaces soon light up the landscape beneath them,\nand the noises of the workshops, mingled with the deep sound of the\nriver, rise to their ears.\n\nThe dawn begins to break. In fact, through the whole night a faint\ngleam of twilight has been seen in the north; but now it begins to\ntake effect on the clouds and air around them. The light increases.\n\n     \u201cAlthough the air above is more or less veiled by light mists, we\n     can distinguish the country before three o\u2019clock as clearly as at\n     mid-day. Our course follows the edge of some considerable forests\n     situated on our right hand. These plains (are they plains?) have\n     a very different aspect from those on French territory. In place\n     of the regular patches of fields which lie upon the surface in\n     parallel lines, the country here is composed of fields of every\n     size and form, like the various provinces on a colored map; most\n     of which are surrounded by hedges as they are in England.\u201d\n\nThey are wafted along into Prussia. On the right, Luxemburg and Tr\u00e8ves\nare visible; on the left, Holland, even to the shore of the North Sea.\n\n     \u201cThe Rhine flows along with its silver ripple in the distance....    764\n     All nature is silent, save from time to time the timid chirping\n     of some little bird; when, suddenly, a vast golden streak of\n     light breaks forth from the east, and caresses the highest clouds\n     of the atmosphere, clothing them in rosy and golden tints.\u201d\n\nThe illustration representing this sunrise is magnificent, as the\nsight must have been in the highest degree. What could be more\ninspiring than to be borne along amid the glorious clouds of morning\ntoward the rising sun--the cheering influence of whose beams the\nballoon itself seems to feel, as, dried and expanded by their heat, it\nrises proudly into the sky--with the Rhine glistening before us, and\nthe green plains and forests of Germany inviting us to continue our\nvoyage?\n\nThey hear the sound of church-bells, and, soon after, that of cannon.\n\n     \u201cFrom minute to minute the voice of this gracious apparatus of\n     civilization and progress growled among the clouds. It was the\n     artillery of M\u00fclheim preparing itself for the next war.\n\n     \u201cThe ancient city of Cologne forms beneath us a regular\n     semicircle soldered to the left bank of the Rhine. Unless one\n     examined it attentively, it might be taken for a moderate-sized\n     snail sticking to the thin branch of a tree.\u201d\n\nPoor M. Flammarion thought he was going to enjoy his sail some time\nlonger, perhaps all day. But his inexorable aeronaut thought\ndifferently. There was very little ballast and no breakfast; it was\nprobable that the wind would rise, and that they would come to grief.\nHis word was law; so the valve-rope was pulled, the French flag run\nup, and down they came at Solingen, near D\u00fcsseldorf, 330 miles from\nParis, which distance had been accomplished in twelve hours and a\nhalf. The good-natured Germans rushed up to help them; the greatest\ndifficulty was to prevent them from smoking near the balloon.\n\nThis journey is a fair example of what balloon travelling may be in\nskilful hands. Of course it has its disadvantages. The principal one\nis obvious; that you can only go just where the wind will take you;\nbut there is an advantage corresponding to this in the quietness and\nsteadiness of the motion, and it is not at all improbable that, with\nthe rapid advances which are being made continually in the science of\nmeteorology, the laws of winds will be ascertained sufficiently to\nenable the aeronaut to find one which will carry him in the general\ndirection in which he wants to go, on most occasions, by choosing a\nproper elevation. Certainly this can often be done, as in the case of\nM. Tissandier\u2019s trip from Calais over the German Ocean. A lower breeze\nbrought them back to land. The difficulty remaining is that of\nchanging our elevation. On the present system, this requires a loss of\ngas or ballast, which cannot be kept up indefinitely. An ingenious\nplan has been proposed by Gen. Meusnier--to have a double balloon, one\noutside the other: the inner one is filled with gas, the space between\nthe two with air; into the outer one more air is forced by an air-pump\nwhen we wish to descend, and allowed to escape when we wish to rise.\nThe compressed air is itself heavier than the air surrounding, and the\ncompressed gas in the inner balloon is also less buoyant than before.\nThis is applying the principle of the bladder of the fish to\naerostatics. The _Giant_ was constructed on this plan, but it does\nnot appear that the practicability of using it in this way was ever\ntested.\n\n\u201cStill, notwithstanding the great utility and advantages of the balloon\npure and simple, we certainly shall never be able to lay out our          765\ncourse with it with all the accuracy that could be desired, and it is\nprobable that we shall never be able to bring it down precisely at the\npoint we wish to reach. To accomplish this, we must have something\nthat will go against the wind; we must have something which takes hold\non the air; we must, in short, be able to fly. It should be noticed,\nhowever, that a flying machine, when invented, will not necessarily\nsupersede the balloon; it will have its advantages, and the balloon\nwill have its own; probably, for mere pleasure travelling, the latter\nwill always be preferable, or certainly would be except for the\ninconveniences attending its landing, especially when the wind is\nhigh.\n\nIt may be said, perhaps, as above, \u201ca flying machine, when invented\u201d;\nfor it really seems as if some practical invention of this kind must\nbefore long be realized. It can hardly be doubted that the bird must\nbe the model, to some extent, of its construction; and it would seem\nto be worth while to take instantaneous photographs of birds in\nflight, in order to discover what really are the positions which the\nwing successively assumes. The photographs of this kind, of men\nwalking, which have been taken, told us a great deal which we did not\nknow before about a movement which seems so very familiar and easy. It\nseems probable, with regard to flying, as M. Flammarion intimates,\nthat the impulse is a very sudden one, at least during a part of the\nstroke; so that the thin resisting medium has, as it were, a certain\nkind of solidity and firmness.\n\nVarious machines for flying have been made, and a tolerable success\nattained. One is lately reported in Philadelphia. There seems to be no\nimpossibility in taking up enough force, at least by the aid of\nballoon power, to give a considerable velocity in a calm to our\nair-ship; but it may as yet be doubted whether it would be able to\ncontend against the ordinary velocity which winds have even a short\ndistance above the surface of the earth. In Mr. Glaisher\u2019s ascents,\nthe wind was blowing, on the average, four times as fast above as\nbelow. This could generally be avoided by keeping near the ground.\n\nBut after all, what aspiring man really longs for is not to have a\nflying machine to carry him, but to have his own wings, and some power\nstrong enough to move them. With the motive powers known at present,\nthis seems to be beyond our reach; but who knows? Heat and motion are\nnow understood to be convertible, and perhaps the sun\u2019s rays may yet\nbe found powerful enough to raise us into the air. But then--look out\nfor clouds. The sun melted the wings of Icarus; the shade would melt\nours.\n\nFlying may yet be realized; and it is well enough to look forward to\nwhat may be in store in the future; but let us also not undervalue\nwhat we already have. The beauty of the form of the balloon\nnecessarily implies a certain perfection in it, as the majesty of a\nfull-rigged line-of-battle ship clearly shows a perfection which no\nactual results gained by cheese-box Monitors can ever gainsay. Our\npresent air-ship is a noble product of human genius, and its resources\nare by no means yet exhausted.\n\nEven a captive balloon is not a bad affair, and may be used for\ntravelling purposes, though it may seem a contradiction to say so. A\n\u201ccaptive\u201d is simply one which is fastened by a rope so that it cannot\nascend above a certain height. If fastened to a fixed object, it\nserves only as a means to take people up for a view or to make            766\nscientific observations: but if attached to a moving body, it is a\nvery pleasant vehicle to ride in, or could easily be made so. Our\nFrench aeronauts were once pulled in this way through the streets of a\ntown, and at another time were towed for some distance at the height\nof five hundred feet by a number of their excitable countrymen. But it\nmust be acknowledged that on the whole a captive is not so pleasant to\nride in as a free balloon. Besides the feeling of exultation\naccompanying a free ascent, it also has the advantage of being really\na great deal more comfortable. The captive, being restrained by the\nrope, feels the full force of whatever wind there is, and is moreover\napt to be tipped over considerably when the breeze is strong.\nNevertheless, going up in one is a tolerably popular amusement when\nthe opportunity is offered, though hardly enough so to make it\nprofitable for the proprietors. This is one of the miserable\ndifficulties about the pursuit of science, that experiments cost\nsomething, and often it is very troublesome to raise the necessary\nfunds. Free ascensions have, however, been common enough for a good\ndeal more to have been accomplished in the way of experiment and\nobservation than has usually been the case, and Mr. Glaisher\u2019s example\ndeserves to be generally followed. The balloon itself may do a good\ndeal towards the investigation of the laws of the atmospheric\ncurrents, the knowledge of which would be so useful for its own\nguidance, as well as in answering questions concerning storms and\nclimate. Mr. Glaisher, on January 12, 1864, met with a warm current of\nair from the southwest, more than half a mile in depth; and he\nconsiders that this may, perhaps, be an aerial Gulf Stream, and\nincrease the warming effect which that celebrated current no doubt\nproduces on the western and northern coasts of Europe.\n\nBut we must not dwell longer on his scientific results, or those of\nhis friends on the other side of the Channel. In fact, it is time that\nwe should come down from the clouds, and occupy ourselves with the\naffairs of this base and grovelling lower world. We should like to do\nit gradually, but, as is the case with the balloon itself, our descent\nmust needs be accompanied by something of a shock. It is with\ndifficulty that we can persuade ourselves to quit, even in imagination,\nthose magnificent regions so near to us and yet practically so far\naway; which all of us could see even now in ten minutes if our balloon\nwas ready--would that it were!--and which, if the art of flying\nprogresses with due rapidity, we may yet see some time before we die.\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n                  THE LEPER OF THE CITY OF AOSTA.                         767\n\n                  BY THE COUNT XAVIER DE MAISTRE.\n\n\u201c_Le L\u00e9preux de la cit\u00e9 d\u2019Aosta_ est une larme, mais une larme qui\ncoule toujours!\u201d--LAMARTINE.\n\n         \u201cAh! little think the gay, licentious proud\n          Whom pleasure, power, and affluence surround:--\n          Ah! little think they, while they dance along,\n          How many pine!--how many drink the cup\n          Of baleful grief!--how many shake\n          With all the fiercer tortures of the mind!\u201d--THOMSON.\n\n\nThe southern part of the city of Aosta is now nearly deserted, and\nappears to have been never very thickly peopled. Cultivated fields and\nmeadows may be seen, hedged in on one side by the ancient bulwarks\nwhich the Romans raised as a wall, and on the other by garden fences.\nThis solitary spot, however, affords wherewithal to interest the\ntraveller. Near the gate of the city are the ruins of an old castle,\nin which, if popular tradition is to be relied on, Count Ren\u00e9 de\nChalans, infuriated by jealousy, left his wife, the Princess Marie de\nBraganza, to die of hunger, in the fifteenth century. Hence the name\nof _Bramafan_, which signifies the _cry of hunger_, given to\nthis castle by the people around. This tradition, which may be\ndisputed, gives an interest to the ruins in the eyes of people of\nsensibility.\n\nA hundred steps further on is a square tower, built of the marble that\nonce covered the antique walls beside it. It is called the Hold of\nTerror, because it is commonly believed to be haunted. The ancient\ndames of Aosta can still remember seeing a tall woman robed in white,\nwith a lamp in her hand, issue from the tower on dark nights.\n\nAbout fifteen years ago, this tower was repaired by the order of the\ngovernment, and surrounded by an enclosure, for the purpose of lodging\na leper, through fear of contagion if left at large, and at the same\ntime affording him every comfort his sad condition allowed. The\nHospital of St. Maurice was ordered to supply his wants. It furnished\nhim with some articles of furniture and the implements for cultivating\na garden. Here he lived for a long time, left completely to himself,\nand never seeing any one, except the priest who came from time to time\nto administer the consolations of religion, and the man who, every\nweek, brought him his provisions from the hospital.\n\nDuring the war in the Alps in the year 1797, a soldier, who was in the\ncity of Aosta, happened to pass by the leper\u2019s garden. The gate was\najar, and he had the curiosity to enter. He saw a man in a simple\ngarb, leaning against a tree, as if lost in profound meditation. At\nthe sound of the officer\u2019s steps, the recluse, without turning around\nor looking up, cried in a sad tone: \u201cWho is there? and what do you\nwish?\u201d\n\n\u201cExcuse a stranger,\u201d replied the soldier, \u201cwhom the attractive\nappearance of your garden has induced to commit an indiscretion, but\nwho by no means wishes to disturb you.\u201d                                   768\n\n\u201cDo not come any nearer,\u201d replied the inmate of the tower, motioning\nhim back with his hand. \u201cCome no nearer: you are in the presence of an\nunfortunate being afflicted with leprosy.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhatever may be your misfortune,\u201d replied the traveller, \u201cI shall not\ngo away. I have never shunned the unfortunate. But, if my presence\nannoys you, I am ready to withdraw.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are welcome,\u201d replied the leper, suddenly turning around.\n\u201cRemain, if you have the courage after looking at me.\u201d\n\nThe officer remained for some time motionless with astonishment at the\nfrightful aspect of the unfortunate man so completely disfigured by\nleprosy.\n\n\u201cI willingly remain,\u201d said he, \u201cif you will accept the visit of a man\nled here by chance, but detained by a lively interest.\u201d\n\n\u201cInterest!--I have never excited anything but pity.\u201d\n\n\u201cI should be happy to offer you any consolation.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is a great one to behold a human face and hear the sound of a\nhuman voice, for every one flies from me.\u201d\n\n\u201cAllow me, then, to converse with you awhile and to visit your house.\u201d\n\n\u201cVery willingly, if it can afford you any pleasure.\u201d Saying which, the\nleper put on a large felt hat, the flattened brim of which covered his\nface. \u201cGo to the south,\u201d added he. \u201cThe few flowers I cultivate may\nplease you. There are some rather rare. I have procured the seeds of\nevery kind that grow among the Alps, and try to make them grow double\nand more beautiful by cultivation.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou have flowers which are indeed entirely new to me.\u201d\n\n\u201cLook at this little rose-bush. It is a rose without thorns, which\nonly grows on the higher Alps, but it is already losing its\npeculiarity, and putting forth thorns in proportion to its cultivation\nand growth.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt should be considered the emblem of ingratitude.\u201d\n\n\u201cIf any of these flowers please you, you can take them without any\nfear: you will incur no danger by gathering them. I sowed the seed. I\ntake pleasure in watering them and looking at them, but I never touch\nthem.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy not?\u201d\n\n\u201cI fear I might infect them, and should no longer dare give them to\nany one.\u201d\n\n\u201cFor whom do you raise them?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe people who bring me food from the hospital are not afraid to\ngather them. And sometimes children from the city stop before my\ngarden-gate. I immediately ascend the tower, for fear of frightening\nor infecting them. They look up as they go away, and say with a smile:\n\u2018Good-by, Leper,\u2019 and that gives me a little pleasure.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou have succeeded in collecting quite a variety of plants; and you\nhave vines yonder, and several kinds of fruit-trees.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe trees are still young. I set them out myself, as well as that\ngrape-vine, which I have trained to the top of the old wall, you see:\nit is thick enough for me to walk on, and is my favorite resort.--Go\nup on these stones. I am the architect of this staircase. Hold on to\nthe wall.\u201d\n\n\u201cA charming nook! the very place for a hermit to meditate in!\u201d\n\n\u201cIt suits me, too. I can see the country around, the laborers in the\nfields, and all that is going on in the meadow, and no one can see me.\u201d   769\n\n\u201cIt is a delightfully quiet and secluded place. You are in the city,\nand yet might fancy yourself in a desert.\u201d\n\n\u201cForests and cliffs are not the only resorts of the solitary. The\nunfortunate are alone everywhere.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat succession of events brought you to this retreat? Are you a\nnative of this country?\u201d\n\n\u201cI was born on the sea-coast in the principality of Oneglia, and have\nonly lived here fifteen years. As to my history, it is only one long\nsuccession of calamities.\u201d\n\n\u201cHave you always lived alone?\u201d\n\n\u201cI lost my parents in my infancy, and do not remember them. I had one\nsister who died two years ago. I never had a friend.\u201d\n\n\u201cPoor man!\u201d\n\n\u201cIt was the will of God.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat is your name, pray?\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! my name is a terrible one! I call myself _The Leper_! No one in\nthe wide world knows the name I derived from my family, or that which\nI received on the day of my baptism. I am _The Leper_, and this is the\nonly title I have to human kindness. May it remain for ever unknown\nwho I am!\u201d\n\n\u201cDid the sister you lost live with you?\u201d\n\n\u201cShe remained five years with me in my present habitation. As\nunfortunate as I, she participated in my sorrows, and I endeavored to\nalleviate hers.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow do you employ yourself in such utter solitude?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe details of my lonely life would only be very monotonous to a man\nof the world who seeks happiness in the activity of social life.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! you little know the world--it has never made me happy. I am often\nsolitary from choice, and there may be more similarity in our ideas\nthan you suppose. And yet, I acknowledge, perpetual solitude frightens\nme. I can hardly conceive it endurable.\u201d\n\n\u201c\u2018The cell continually dwelt in groweth sweet,\u2019 says _The Following\nof Christ_. I am beginning to realize the truth of these consoling\nwords. Loneliness is also relieved by labor. A laborious man is never\nabsolutely unhappy, as I know by experience. During the pleasant\nseason, the cultivation of my flowers and vegetables is a sufficient\noccupation. In the winter I make baskets and mats. I try to make my\nclothes. I daily prepare my own food from the supplies brought me from\nthe hospital, and prayer fills up the vacant hours. Thus the year\npasses, and, when gone, it seems short.\u201d\n\n\u201cI should think it would seem a century.\u201d\n\n\u201cAffliction and sorrow make the hours appear long, but the years\nalways fly with the same rapidity. Besides, there is one enjoyment\nleft in the lowest depths of misfortune which but few can understand,\nand may seem strange to you--that of living and breathing. In warm\nweather, I pass whole days motionless on the ramparts, enjoying the\nair and the beauties of nature: my thoughts are vague and fluctuating;\nsadness dwells in my heart without oppressing it; my eyes wander\naround the country, and linger on the rocks that surround us; all\nthese objects are so imprinted on my memory that they form, as it\nwere, a part of myself: each site is a friend I greet with pleasure\nevery day.\u201d\n\n\u201cI have often experienced something of this kind. When trouble\ndepresses me, and I do not find in the hearts of others what my own\ncraves, the aspect of nature and inanimate objects consoles me. I\nbecome attached to the very rocks and trees, and it seems to me that      770\nall created things are friends whom God has given me.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou encourage me to explain, in my turn, what passes within me. I\nhave a genuine affection for the objects that are, so to speak, my\ndaily companions, and every night, before going to my tower, I come\nhere to take leave of the glaciers of Ruitorts, the dense woods of\nMont St. Bernard, and the fantastic peaks that overlook the valley of\nthe Rhine. Though the power of God is as evident in the creation of an\nant as in that of the whole universe, the grand spectacle of yonder\nmountains fills me with greater awe. I cannot look at those lofty\nelevations, covered with eternal glaciers, without being filled with\nsolemn wonder. But in the vast landscape spread out before me, I have\nfavorite views to which I turn with special pleasure. Among these is\nthe hermitage you see yonder on the top of Mount Charvensod. Alone in\nthe woods, near a deserted pasture, it catches the last rays of the\nsetting sun. Though I have never been there, I feel a peculiar\npleasure in looking at it. When the daylight is fading away, seated in\nmy garden, I turn my eyes toward that lonely hermitage, to seek rest\nfor my imagination. I have learned to look upon it as a kind of\nproperty. It seems as if I had some confused reminiscence of once\nliving there in happier days which I cannot fully recall. I love\nespecially to gaze at the distant mountains, which look like a cloud\non the horizon. Distance, like the future, inspires me with hope. My\noverburdened heart imagines there may be a far-off land where, at some\nfuture time, I may at length taste the happiness for which I sigh, and\nwhich a secret instinct is constantly assuring me is possible.\u201d\n\n\u201cWith such an ardent soul as yours, you must have passed through many\nstruggles in resigning yourself to your lot, instead of yielding to\ndespair.\u201d\n\n\u201cI should deceive you in allowing you to think I have always been\nresigned to my lot. I have not attained that self-abnegation to which\nsome anchorites have arrived. The entire sacrifice of all human\naffection has not yet been accomplished. My life has been one\ncontinual combat, and the powerful influences of religion itself are\nnot always able to repress the flights of my imagination. It often\ndraws me, in spite of myself, into a whirlpool of vain desires, which\ntend toward a world I have no knowledge of, but strange visions of\nwhich are ever present to torment me.\u201d\n\n\u201cIf you could read my soul and learn my opinion of the world, all your\ndesires and your regrets would instantly vanish.\u201d\n\n\u201cBooks have vainly taught me the perversity of mankind, and the\nmisfortunes inseparable from humanity: my heart refuses to believe\nthem. I am continually representing to myself circles of sincere and\nvirtuous friends; suitable marriages full of the happiness resulting\nfrom health, youth, and fortune. I imagine them wandering together\nthrough groves greener and fresher than the trees above me, with a sun\nmore dazzling than that which brightens my world, and their lot seems\nworthy of envy in proportion to the misery of mine. At the beginning\nof spring, when the wind from Piedmont blows through our valley, I\nfeel its vivifying warmth penetrating me, and a thrill passes over me\nin spite of myself. I have an inexplicable desire, and a confused\nnotion of a boundless happiness that I am capable of enjoying, but\nwhich is denied me. Then I fly from my cell, and wander in the fields,\nthat I may breathe more freely. I avoid the very sight of the men whom    771\nmy heart longs to embrace, and from the top of the hill, concealed\namong the bushes like a wild beast, I gaze towards the city of Aosta.\nWith envious eyes I see afar off its happy inhabitants, to whom I am\nscarcely known. I stretch forth my hands towards them, and, with\ngroans, ask for my share of happiness. In my agony--shall I\nacknowledge it?--I have sometimes thrown my arms around the trees of\nthe forest, imploring Almighty God to infuse life into them that I may\nhave a friend! But the trees make no response, their coldness repels\nme, they have nothing in common with my throbbing heart, which is\naflame. Overcome by fatigue, weary of life, I drag myself back again\nto my asylum, I lay my torments before God, and prayer restores\nsomewhat of calmness to my soul.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo, poor, unfortunate man, you suffer at once all the ills of soul\nand body?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe latter are not the most severe!\u201d\n\n\u201cThen you are sometimes freed from them?\u201d\n\n\u201cEvery month they increase and diminish with the moon. I generally\nsuffer most at its first appearance. My disease then abates and seems\nto change its symptoms: my skin grows dry and white, and I feel nearly\nwell. But my malady would be endurable but for the terrible\nwakefulness it produces.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat! does even sleep abandon you?\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! sir, the sleepless, sleepless nights! You have no idea how long\nand sad they are when I cannot get a moment\u2019s sleep, and my mind\ndwells on my frightful situation--with no hope for the future. No! no\none could realize it. My restlessness increases as the night advances,\nand, when nearly at an end, my nervousness is almost unendurable: my\nmind is confused. I experience an extraordinary sensation that never\ncomes over me but at such sad moments. Sometimes it seems as if an\nirresistible power was drawing me down into a bottomless gulf:\nsometimes I see black clouds before my eyes, but while I am examining\nthem they cross each other with the quickness of lightning, they grow\nlarger as they approach, and then look like mountains ready to\noverwhelm me with their weight. At other times, I behold clouds\nissuing from the earth beneath me like swelling waves, which rise one\nabove the other and threaten to engulf me; and, when I wish to rise in\norder to throw off these sensations, I feel chained down by some\ninvisible force that renders me powerless. You will perhaps think\nthese are dreams; but you are mistaken. I am really awake. I see all\nthis again and again, and with a sensation of horror that surpasses\nall my other sufferings.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is possible you are feverish during these long, sleepless nights,\nand this, perhaps, causes a kind of delirium.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou think this may be the result of fever? Ah! I wish it might be\ntrue. Until now I have feared these visions were symptoms of madness,\nand I acknowledge this greatly worried me. Would to God they were the\neffects of fever!\u201d\n\n\u201cYour case inspires me with a lively interest. I acknowledge that I\nhad never imagined anything like your situation. I suppose, however,\nit was less sad when your sister was living.\u201d\n\n\u201cGod alone knows what a loss her death was to me. But are you not\nafraid to come so near me? Sit down there on that rock, and I will\nconceal myself beneath the vines, so we can talk without seeing each      772\nother.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy so? No, you shall not leave me. Come nearer.\u201d In saying these\nwords the traveller involuntarily put out his hand to take the\nLeper\u2019s, but the latter hastily withdrew his.\n\n\u201cImprudent man! You were going to take hold of my hand!\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, I would have pressed it heartily.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt would have been the first time such a happiness was granted me: my\nhand was never pressed by any one.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat! Have you never formed any ties, except the sister of whom you\nhave spoken--never been loved by any of your own condition?\u201d\n\n\u201cHappily for the human race, there is not another in my condition on\nthe earth.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou make me shudder.\u201d\n\n\u201cPardon me, compassionate stranger! You know the unhappy love to speak\nof their misfortunes.\u201d\n\n\u201cGo on, go on: you interest me. You said your sister lived with you,\nand aided you in bearing your sufferings.\u201d\n\n\u201cShe was the only tie that bound me to the rest of mankind! It pleased\nGod to break it, and thus leave me isolated and alone in the midst of\nthe world. Her soul was ripe for the heaven where she now is, and her\nexample sustained me under the discouragement which has often\noverwhelmed me since her death. But we did not live in that delightful\nintimacy which I so often imagine, and which should bind together the\nunfortunate. The nature of our disease deprived us of this\nconsolation. When we came together to pray, we avoided looking at one\nanother, for fear the sad spectacle might disturb our meditations: our\nsouls alone were united before God. After prayer, my sister generally\nretired to her cell or beneath the nut-trees at the end of the garden,\nand we lived almost constantly apart.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut why did you impose so cruel a restraint upon yourselves?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhen my sister was attacked with the contagious disease to which all\nour family were victims, and came to share my asylum, we had never\nseen one another. Her fright was extreme when she beheld me for the\nfirst time. The fear of afflicting her, and still more of increasing\nher malady by approaching her, made me resolve on this sad kind of a\nlife. The leprosy had only attacked her breast, and I had still some\nhopes of her being cured. You see the remains of a neglected trellis:\nit was then covered with a hop-vine that I trained with care, and\ndivided the garden into two parts. On each side of this, I made a\nlittle path where we could walk and converse together without seeing\nor coming too near each other.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt would almost seem as if heaven wished to embitter the sad\npleasures it still left you.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut at least I was not then alone. My sister\u2019s presence gave some\ncheerfulness to my asylum. I could hear the sounds of her steps. When\nI returned, at dawn, to pray beneath these trees, the door of the\ntower would softly open, and my sister\u2019s voice would imperceptibly\nmingle with mine. In the evening, when I watered my garden, she\nsometimes walked here at sunset, in the same place where we now are,\nand I could see her shadow pass and repass over my flowers. Even when\nI did not see her, there were everywhere traces of her presence.\nSometimes it was only a withered flower in the path, or some branch of\na shrub she had dropped, but now I am alone, there is neither movement    773\nnor life around me, and the path that led to her favorite grove is\nalready overgrown with grass. Without appearing to observe me, she was\nconstantly studying what could afford me pleasure. When I returned to\nmy chamber, I was sometimes surprised to find vases of fresh flowers,\nor some fine fruit she had taken care of herself. I did not dare\nrender her similar services, and had even begged her never to enter my\nchamber, but who can place a limit to a sister\u2019s affection? One\nincident alone will give you an idea of her love for me. I was\nwalking rapidly up and down my cell one night, tormented with\nfearful sufferings. In the middle of the night, as I was sitting\ndown a moment to rest, I heard a slight noise at the door. I\napproached--listened--imagine my astonishment! it was my sister who\nwas praying on the outside of my door. She had heard my groans. She\nwas afraid of annoying me, but wished to be at hand if I needed any\nassistance. I heard her repeating the _Miserere_ in a low tone. I\nknelt down by the door, and, without interrupting her, mentally\nfollowed her words. My eyes were full of tears: who would not have\nbeen touched by so much affection? When her prayer was ended, I said\nin a low tone: \u2018Good-night, sister, good-night: go to bed, I feel a\nlittle better. May God bless and reward you for your piety!\u2019 She\nretired in silence, and her prayer was surely answered, for I at last\nenjoyed several hours of quiet sleep.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow sad must have been the first days after your beloved sister\u2019s\ndeath!\u201d\n\n\u201cI remained for a long time in a kind of stupor that deprived me of\nthe faculty of realizing the extent of my misfortune. When at length I\ncame to myself, and was able to comprehend my situation, my reason\nalmost left me. It was a season doubly sad for me, for it recalls the\ngreatest of my misfortunes, and the crime that came near resulting\nfrom it.\u201d\n\n\u201cCrime! I cannot believe you capable of one.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is only too true, and, in giving you an account of that period of\nmy life, I feel too sensibly I shall fall in your estimation; but I do\nnot wish to appear better than I am, and perhaps you will pity while\ncondemning me. The idea of voluntarily leaving this world had already\noccurred to me in several fits of melancholy, but the fear of God had\nhitherto made me repel the thought. The simplest circumstance, and\napparently the least calculated to trouble me, came near causing my\neternal loss. I had just experienced a new affliction. A little dog\nhad been given us some years previous. My sister was fond of him, and\nafter her death the poor animal was, I acknowledge, a real comfort to\nme. We were, I suppose, indebted to his ugliness for his making our\nhouse his refuge. He had been rejected by everybody else, but was a\ntreasure in the asylum of a leper. In gratitude to God for the favor\nof such a friend, my sister called him _Miracle_, and his name--such\na contrast to his ugliness--and his constant friskiness often\ndispelled our sorrows. In spite of my care, he sometimes got out, and\nit never occurred to me it might injure any one. But some of the\ninhabitants of the town became alarmed, thinking he might bring among\nthem the germ of my disease. They sent a complaint to the commander,\nwho ordered the dog to be killed immediately. Some soldiers followed\nby several civilians came here at once to execute this cruel order.\nThey put a cord around his neck in my presence, and dragged him away.     774\nI could not help looking at him once more as he was going out of the\ngate; his eyes were turned towards me, as if to beg the assistance\nwhich it was not in my power to give. They wished to drown him in the\nDoire, but the crowd waiting on the outside stoned him to death. I\nheard his cries, and took refuge in my tower more dead than alive; my\ntrembling knees refused to support me; I threw myself on my bed in a\nstate impossible to describe. My grief made me regard the just though\nsevere order only as a cruelty as atrocious as it was needless, and,\nthough I am now ashamed of the feeling that then excited me, I cannot\nyet think of it with coolness. I passed the whole day in the greatest\nagitation. I had been deprived of the only living thing I had, and\nthis new blow reopened all the wounds of my heart.\n\n\u201cSuch was my condition when, that same day, towards sunset, I came\nhere, and seated myself on the very rock where you are now sitting. I\nhad been meditating awhile on my sad lot, when I saw a newly-married\ncouple appear yonder, near the two birches at the end of the hedge.\nThey came along the foot-path through the meadow, and passed by me.\nThe sweet peace that an assured happiness confers was imprinted on\ntheir handsome faces. They were walking slowly arm-in-arm. All at once\nthey stopped; the young woman leaned her head upon her husband\u2019s\nbreast, who clasped her in his arms with joy. Shall I confess it? Envy\nfor the first time penetrated my heart. Such a picture of happiness\nhad never struck me before. I followed them with my eyes to the end of\nthe meadow. They were nearly hidden by the trees when I heard a joyful\ncry. It came from the united families who were coming to meet them.\nOld men, women, and children surrounded them. I heard a confused\nmurmur of joy. I saw among the trees the bright colors of their\ndresses, and the whole group seemed enveloped in a cloud of happiness.\nI could not endure the sight: the torments of hell seized hold of my\nheart. I turned away my eyes, and fled to my cell. O God! how\nfrightfully lonely and gloomy it seemed. \u2018It is here, then,\u2019 I said to\nmyself--\u2018I am to live for ever here. After dragging out a wretched\nexistence, I must await the long-delayed end of my life! The Almighty\nhas diffused happiness, and in torrents, among all living creatures,\nand I--I alone!--am without support, without friends, without a\ncompanion.--What a terrible destiny!\u2019\n\n\u201cFull of these sad thoughts, I forgot there is one Being who is the\nComforter. I was beside myself. \u2018Why,\u2019 I said to myself, \u2018was I\npermitted to behold the light? Why has Nature been so cruel a\nstep-mother to me?\u2019 Like a disinherited child, I saw before me the\nrich patrimony of the human race, of my share of which heaven had\ndefrauded me. \u2018No, no,\u2019 I cried in my fury, \u2018there is no happiness for\nthee on earth. Cease, then, to live, poor wretch! Thou hast disgraced\nthe earth long enough with thy presence: would it might swallow thee\nup and leave no trace of thy miserable existence!\u2019 My fury continuing\nto increase, a mad desire to destroy myself took possession of my\nmind. I resolved at last to set fire to my dwelling, and allow myself\nto be burned up in it with everything else that might recall my\nmemory. Excited and enraged, I went forth into the fields. I wandered\nfor some time in the darkness around my dwelling. I gave vent to my\noverburdened heart in involuntary shrieks, and frightened myself in the   775\nsilence of the night. I reentered full of rage, crying: \u2018Woe to thee,\nLeper! Woe to thee!\u2019 And, as if everything conspired for my\ndestruction, I heard the echo from the ruins of the Ch\u00e2teau de\nBramafan repeating distinctly: \u2018Woe to thee!\u2019 I stopped, seized with\nhorror, at the door of the tower, and a faint echo from the mountains\nrepeated a long time after, \u2018Woe to thee!\u2019\n\n\u201cI took a lamp, and, resolved to set fire to my dwelling, went into\nthe lowest room, carrying with me some twigs and dry branches. It was\nthe room my sister occupied, and I had not entered it since her death.\nHer arm-chair was in the same spot where I moved it for the last time.\nI shivered with fear at the sight of her veil and some of her clothing\nscattered around. The last words she uttered before her departure came\nback to my mind: \u2018I shall not forsake you when I die: remember, I\nshall always be with you in your sufferings.\u2019 Placing the lamp on the\ntable, I perceived the cord which held the cross she wore on her neck.\nShe had placed it herself within her Bible. I drew back, filled with\nawe at the sight. The depths of the abyss into which I was about to\nplunge were at once revealed to my unsealed eyes. Trembling, I\napproached the sacred volume. \u2018Here, here,\u2019 I cried, \u2018is the aid she\npromised me!\u2019 Drawing the cross from the book, I found a sealed note\nwhich my dear sister had left for me. My tears, which grief had not\nhitherto allowed me to shed, now escaped in torrents: all my\ndetestable projects vanished at once. I pressed the precious letter to\nmy heart a long time before I could read it: then, falling on my knees\nto implore the divine mercy, I sobbingly read the words that will be\nfor ever graven on my heart: \u2018Brother, I shall soon leave you, but\nnot forsake you. From heaven, which I hope to enter, I will watch over\nyou, praying God to give you the courage to endure life with\nresignation till it pleases him to reunite us in another world. Then I\nshall be able to show you how much I loved you. Nothing will prevent\nme any longer from approaching you: nothing can separate us. I leave\nyou the little cross I have worn all my life. It has often consoled me\nin my sorrows and been the only witness of my tears. Remember, when\nyou look upon it, that my last prayer was that you might live and die\na good Christian.\u2019\n\n\u201cCherished letter! it shall never leave me. I will carry it with me to\nthe grave. It will open to me the gates of heaven which my crime would\nhave closed for ever. When I had finished reading it, I felt faint,\nexhausted by all I had undergone. My sight grew dim, and, for some\ntime, I lost both the remembrance of my misfortunes and the\nconsciousness of existence. When I came to myself, the night was far\nadvanced. In proportion to the clearness of my mind, I experienced a\nfeeling of profound peace. All that had taken place the evening before\nseemed like a dream. My first impulse was to raise my eyes heavenward\nin thanksgiving for having been preserved from the greatest of\nmisfortunes. The heavens had never appeared so serene and glorious:\none star before my window outshone the rest. I gazed at it a long time\nwith inexpressible delight, thanking God for granting me the pleasure\nof beholding it, and felt interiorly consoled at the thought that some\nof its rays were permitted to cheer the gloomy home of the Leper.\n\n\u201cI went up to my cell in a calmer frame. I spent the remainder of the\nnight in reading the Book of Job, and the sublimity of his thoughts at    776\nlength entirely dispelled the gloomy ideas that had beset me. I never\nexperienced such fearful moments during my sister\u2019s life. To feel her\nnear me made me at once calmer, and the very thought of the affection\nshe had for me afforded me consolation, and inspired me with courage.\n\n\u201cCompassionate stranger! may God preserve you from ever being obliged\nto live alone! My sister and my companion is no more. But heaven will\ngrant me the strength to endure life courageously; it will grant it, I\ntrust, for I pray for it with all the earnestness of my heart.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow old was your sister when she died?\u201d\n\n\u201cShe was barely twenty-five, but her sufferings made her look much\nolder. In spite of her fatal disease, which changed her features, she\nwould have been handsome, had it not been for her frightful pallor,\nthe result of a living death which made me groan whenever I looked at\nher.\u201d\n\n\u201cShe died quite young?\u201d\n\n\u201cHer delicate and feeble constitution could not resist so many\nsufferings combined: for some time I had perceived her loss\ninevitable. Her lot was so sad that I could not desire her to live.\nSeeing her daily languishing and wasting away, I felt, with a fearful\nkind of joy, that the end of her sufferings was approaching. For a\nmonth she had been growing weaker; frequent swoons were constantly\nthreatening her life. One evening (it was about the first of August) I\nsaw her so weak that I was unwilling to leave her. She was in her\narm-chair, not having been able to lie down for several days. I seated\nmyself near her, and in the profound darkness we held our last\nconversation. I could not restrain my tears. A sad presentiment\nagitated me. \u2018Why do you weep?\u2019 she said. \u2018Why distress yourself? I\nshall not forsake you when I die. I shall always be with you in your\nsufferings.\u2019\n\n\u201cA few moments after, she expressed a desire to be carried out of the\ntower, that she might offer her prayers in the grove of nut-trees\nwhere she passed the greater part of the pleasant season. \u2018I wish,\u2019\nshe said, \u2018to die looking at the heavens.\u2019 But I did not imagine her\nend so near. I was about to take her in my arms, when she said, \u2018Only\nsupport me. I am, perhaps, strong enough to walk.\u2019 I led her slowly to\nthe nut-trees. I made a cushion of the dry leaves she herself had\ngathered together, and, covering her head with a veil to screen her\nfrom the dampness of the night, I seated myself near her. But she\ndesired to be left alone during her last meditation, and I went to a\ndistance, but without losing sight of her. From time to time, I could\nsee the flutter of her veil and her white hands raised to heaven. When\nI drew near the grove, she asked for some water. I carried her some in\na cup. She wet her lips, but could not swallow. \u2018I feel the end has\ncome,\u2019 said she, turning her head. \u2018My thirst will soon be assuaged\nfor ever. Support me, brother: aid me in crossing this gulf--so long\ndesired, but so terrible. Support me, and say the prayers for the\ndying.\u2019 These were her last words. I drew her head against my breast,\nand said the prayer for the departing soul: \u2018Go forth from this world,\nmy beloved sister, and leave thy mortal remains in my arms!\u2019 I held\nher in this way for three hours, during the last throes of nature. At\nlength, she quietly passed away, and her soul left the earth without a\nstruggle.\u201d\n\nAt the end of this account, the Leper covered his face with his hands.    777\nSympathy deprived the traveller of the power of speaking. After a\nmoment\u2019s silence, the Leper rose. \u201cStranger,\u201d said he, \u201cwhen grief or\ndejection comes over you, think of the Leper of the city of Aosta, and\nyour visit will not have been a useless one.\u201d\n\nThey walked towards the garden-gate. As the officer was about to go\nout, he put his glove on his right hand. \u201cYou have never pressed any\none\u2019s hand,\u201d said he. \u201cDo me the favor to press mine. It is the hand\nof a friend who is deeply interested in your lot.\u201d\n\nThe Leper drew back some steps with a kind of terror, and, raising his\neyes and hands towards heaven, he cried: \u201cO God of goodness! pour down\nthy blessings on this compassionate man!\u201d\n\n\u201cGrant me another favor, then,\u201d resumed the traveller. \u201cI am going\naway. We may not see each other again for a long time. Can we not\nwrite one another sometimes, with the necessary precautions? Such a\ncorrespondence might divert you, and it would afford me great\npleasure.\u201d\n\nThe Leper reflected for some time. At length he said, \u201cWhy should I\ncherish any delusion? I ought to have no other society but myself, no\nfriend but God. We shall meet in his presence. Farewell, kind\nstranger, may you be happy! Farewell for ever!\u201d The traveller went\nout--the Leper closed the door and drew the bolts.\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n            ON THE PRESENT CONDITION OF THE HOLY FATHER.\n\n                     FROM LA CIVILTA CATTOLICA.\n\n\nSome fourteen months ago, a breach was made in the _Porta Pia_, and\nan entry effected into Rome in the name of Italy.\n\nThe machinations of those who effected that entry in order to subvert\nthe authority of the Pope are still at work, and most assiduously, in\nendeavoring to convey the impression that this act of theirs now\nstands before the world simply as _an accomplished fact_, and as\nsuch is, if not approved, at least tolerated by those most interested\nin contesting it. Thus they endeavor to delude the world and lull to\nsleep the misgivings of Catholics; for in order to confirm and\nstrengthen this impression there is scarcely a stratagem or subterfuge\nto which the government (itself the author of the fact) does not\nresort, through the journalism notoriously in its pay, not only\nthroughout the Peninsula, but elsewhere.\n\nThis government, which sprang from _accomplished facts_ and _falsehoods_,\nhopes by means of these same _accomplished facts_ and _falsehoods_ to\nplace on a firm foundation its sway in the _Campidoglio_, which now\nrests on a very insecure footing; therefore it endeavors to persuade\nthe world, and especially Catholics, that the Supreme Pontiff, while\nin its hands and under the law of its Guarantees, is actually more at     778\nliberty, more independent in action, and more useful to the church,\nthan he was when he reigned as a sovereign prince and was\n_bona-fide_ ruler in his own state.\n\nThe absurdity of this claim is manifest; but what absurdity is there\nof which the government of the Subalpinists in Italy does not avail\nitself, in order to attach credit to itself, by means of the arts\nlearned in the school of its great father and master, Bonaparte?\n\nIt is important, therefore, or rather we should say it is absolutely\nnecessary, that an honest and Christian journalism should\nperseveringly oppose manifest truths to this interminable repetition\nof falsehoods, paid for by the Subalpine rulers, respecting the\npresent condition of the Holy Father; and thus, by ventilating fraud,\nundeceive simple and credulous minds.\n\nWith this intention, we shall in few but veracious strokes of the pen\ndescribe the undisguised reality of the state in which the head of the\nchurch, the Supreme Pontiff, Pius IX., finds himself at the present\nmoment in Rome, six months after the solemn publication of the laws of\nthe _Guarantees_.\n\n\n                                 II.\n\nWe assert, then, that the Pope endures imprisonment in Rome at the\nhands of the Subalpinists, and that his captivity, instead of being\nmitigated, is every day aggravated. This is proved by the following\nfacts:\n\n1. He is in the hands of an _inimical power_, or, as he himself has\ndefined it, he is _sub hostili dominatione constitutus_. Now, he who\nis in the hands of an enemy, however much that enemy may affect\nhumanity and regard towards him, is beyond all contradiction his\nprisoner.\n\n2. The Holy Father fell into the hands of this inimical power through\nsheer force. This is rendered evident by the formal declaration made\nby the Subalpine ministers before taking up arms against him, in which\nthey affirmed that to invade or take Rome with bomb-shells and cannons\nwould be an act contrary to the rights of nations, an act so\niniquitous that it would be unworthy even of a barbarian government:\nyet in the very face of these declarations they did take Rome with the\nargument of bomb-shells and cannons, and with the same argument they\ncontinue to occupy it.\n\n3. The Holy Father, being in the hands of an inimical power, which has\ndispossessed him by violence of all sovereignty, and substituted its\nown in lieu of his, is now by this same power subjected to every kind\nof ridicule in his double majesty as pontiff and as king: burlesque\nhonors are proposed to him, which would by preference be offered to\nhim publicly, in order to induce the idea that the Holy Father, by\naccepting them, is reconciled to the government, and has basely ceded\nto it the inalienable rights of God, of the church, and of the\nCatholic world. Moreover, the obligation resting on the Sovereign\nPontiff of preserving his own dignity keeps him shut up in the\nVatican: the outer doors of which are guarded _by a guard of honor_\nformed of the self-same wretched soldiery who, led on by Subalpine\nleaders, made the breach in the _Porta Pia_, and struck to the earth\nhis own sovereign banner in Rome.\n\n4. Finally: The inimical power in whose hands the Holy Father now\nfinds himself is, either from weakness or malice, incapable of\nprotecting his august person from any kind of insult. So that,\nsupposing it to be _morally_ possible for him without compromising\nhis dignity to leave the cloisters of the Vatican, yet would a            779\n_material_ obstacle present itself in the outrages and dangers,\nthreatening life itself, to which he would be exposed amid the crowds\nof cut-throats, atheists, and the lowest rabble of every country,\nwhich this power has congregated together and maintains in Rome, to\nrepresent in that city the people of the pl\u00e9biscite; that is, a people\nhostile to the Papacy and rebellious to its throne.\n\nThese are the principal facts which most clearly demonstrate the state\nof imprisonment into which the Sovereign Pontiff was thrown, by the\nevents of the 20th September, 1870, in his own city of Rome: and we\ndefy all the sophistry of all the journalists, politicians, and\ndiplomatists of the government, seated as it is in the metropolis of\nthe Catholic world, to deny it, without denying the light of the sun\nat mid-day.\n\nBesides this, that the captivity of the Holy Father has been\naggravated during these fourteen months is seen and felt by every one\nwho is not under the influence of the Subalpinists, those men who have\ncarried their effrontery to the length of placing the centre of their\ngovernment in the city of Rome itself, and with one of their laws of\n_guaranty_ for the independence of the Pope have arrogated to\nthemselves the right of imposing the future conditions of his\nexistence in the Vatican, as if they were the rulers of the Holy See.\nWhoever considers the forces of moral and material hostility that\nthese Subalpinists have accumulated in Rome against his prerogatives,\ncannot fail to perceive that the rights which in this city are most\nreadily trodden under foot, are, after those of God, those of the\nPope: and the person who is the most insulted therein is, after that\nof Christ, precisely the person of the Sovereign Pontiff, Pius IX.,\n_decreed sovereign and inviolable_, by the law, as the person of the\nking himself.\n\nFrom this it follows that the Holy Father is at the present moment the\nlegal prisoner, in Rome, of the Subalpine government, since by the\naforenamed laws, termed those of the Guarantees, not only has that\ngovernment confirmed the violent spoliation of himself, but, in spite\nof the opinion of the world, has dared to justify the act by defining\nin those laws the limits of the liberty it intends to concede to him.\nThis is neither more nor less than the usage commonly observed towards\na prisoner of state or of war.\n\nBy this means, the present condition of the Pontiff in his own Rome is\nin truth that of the strictest imprisonment by the anti-Christian\nsect, headed by the government of the Subalpinists now lording it over\nItaly.\n\n\n                                III.\n\nNeither is the Holy Father, Pius IX., the prisoner of an inimical\npower solely on account of his civil prerogatives: it is his\necclesiastical jurisdiction that is aimed at more than anything else:\nwhile usurping the regal crown, it seeks equally to abolish the Papal\ntiara; and, if, after having barbarously dispossessed him of his\nkingdom, it does not also make a barbarous assault on the majesty of\nhis Pontificate, this reserve arises only from the hindrance\noccasioned by very strong and extrinsic causes, and not from good-will\nor any other than a reprobate sentiment.\n\nThis profound enmity of the Subalpine rulers to the Pope as the\nsupreme pastor of the Catholic Church is so well-known as to need no\ndemonstration. Yet for superabundance of proof, we will say that it is    780\nshown:\n\n1. By all that has been previously done against Catholicity for\ntwenty-two years past in Piedmont, and for half that time throughout\nthe rest of Italy, by the faction to which these rulers belong--a\nfaction whose politics are expressed by an obstinate war, sometimes of\na Julianistic character, sometimes of that of a Nero--a war which\nattacks directly or indirectly the church itself, and all connected\nwith it, and this in such a manner as to render it palpable that not\neven the Unity of Italy is desired for its own sake, but rather as a\nmeans by which to work the destruction of Catholicity and the\noverthrow of the Papacy.\n\n2. It is shown by the special mandate which the Subalpine faction\nsuperintending the Masonic government of the Peninsula have received\nfrom the General Masonic Order--a mandate bidding them become the\nimmediate (because proximate) instruments of the downfall of Papal\nRome, the centre of the Catholic Church; and which then bids them\nproceed to the utter spoliation of the Sovereign Pontiff himself--two\nevents which it hopes will lead (if that were possible) to the\nannihilation of Catholicity, that being the ultimate end of all the\nconspiracies of the order.\n\n3. It is shown by the open confessions made in Rome, throughout Italy,\nand in all Europe, by journalists united by the bonds of faction to\nour Subalpine patrons; and even more by the discovery, lately made,\nthat persecution is already well established in Rome against\neverything ecclesiastical or Catholic--whether in things or persons.\n\nFrom these facts, it is demonstrated that the Holy Father is now the\nprisoner in Rome of a government which in his person hates above\neverything, and as far as it dare makes war against, his prerogatives\nas Pontiff, and as Head of the Catholic Apostolic and Roman religion.\nPius IX. is in the hands of Turks embittered to the last degree.\nAgainst him and his tiara every tool is made use of, and with equal\nskill--whether it be cannons or sophistry, buffoonery or the\njudgment-hall, the pick-axe or calumny.\n\n\n                                IV.\n\nThe war of Nero carried on against the Holy Father and the church is\nat the present moment tempered by the war of Julian. It was for this\npurpose that our Subalpinists devised the law of the Guarantees,\nbehind which they know how to mask the ugliness of their rascalities,\nat least for a time. \u201cDo you see?\u201d they exclaim in every tone, and\nhave had written in every language: \u201cWe have surrounded the Pope with\nso many _privileges_ that the like was never seen. Of what do you\ncomplain, O you insatiable Catholics? Have we not constituted the Pope\n_inviolable_ as is the king? What more would you have?\u201d\n\nWe would have--simply that the Pope should be inviolable, because he\nis a king in earnest truth, and not a mere semblance of one. But to\nthis question of to-day concerning the sovereign and personal\ninviolability of the Pope, facts are the best reply. These show that\n_practically_ he is as inviolable as the first article of the statute,\nand has been inviolable throughout the kingdom.\n\nThis privilege of inviolability implies that the person sovereignly\ninviolable can, in no manner whatsoever, be publicly insulted without\nthe offenders being repressed by force and punished according to law.\n\nMeantime, first, it is a notorious fact that every day the sheets         781\nbelonging to this faction, not excepting those of the government\nthroughout the kingdom, and particularly in Rome, insult, hold up to\nderision, and vilify the inviolable person of the Pope: and that he is\nexposed to ridicule by means of most infamous caricatures; and all\nthis with impunity. For it is notorious that newspapers are very\nrarely sequestrated on account of this continuous and general\ncontravention of the laws of the Guarantees; and up to this period not\na single sentence has been issued from the tribunals against the\ninsulters of his Pontifical Majesty. On the other hand, the exchequer\nis most rigorous against any one suspected of insulting the royal\nmajesty through the press; chiefly, however, against the Catholic\njournalists who defend the inviolable Pontiff. Thus (a fitting\ncommentary), of ten law-suits against offenders by means of the press,\neight are commonly to the prejudice of Catholics accused of offences\nagainst the king or of illicit voting. The inviolability of the Holy\nFather, therefore, practically resolves itself into the fact that\nevery miscreant may insult him with impunity, while it is dangerous\nfor an honest Catholic to defend him through the press.\n\nIt is a notorious fact, and of very frequent occurrence, that groups\nof ribald men, escaped from every Italian galley, stroll along the\navenues, singing shameful verses, nay, even menacing ones, in regard\nto the Supreme Pontiff, and it is no rare thing for a rabble to\nprovoke and utter cries of a character most outraging to his name and\nhonor. And yet the police, ever ready to hinder similar outrages in\nregard to the king, become deaf or soften down the words when they\nhear the Holy Father vituperated in this fashion. No one has ever been\narrested for such a crime, and no one has ever been cited before the\ntribunals. The inviolability of the Holy Father, we repeat it,\nconsists practically in the freedom with which every vagabond is\npermitted publicly to insult him.\n\n3. It is a notorious fact that large bands of these miscreants have\noften gathered together beneath the walls of the Papal palace to load\nthe guard stationed inside with foul language, that guard being placed\nthere by the consent of the laws of the Guarantees to the Pope. Yet\nhere they hurl their blasphemies and imprecations against the sanctity\nof the Pope, in the very hearing of the _guard of honor_ placed there\nby the government, and these have never been known to discompose\nthemselves on this account even to the extent of a gesture of\ndisapprobation toward the rogues thus possessed by the devil. Yet woe\nto the wretch who should commit any such atrocity at the portals of\nthe Quirinal, when inhabited by certain other inviolable persons in\nthe kingdom of the Subalpinists! Therefore, once more: the\ninviolability of the Pontiff is practically converted into a tacit\nlicense for the lowest rabble to insult his person beneath the very\nportals and under the windows of the Vatican.\n\nWe might enumerate many other facts, equally well known, to\ndemonstrate how little is the practical value of the sovereign\ninviolability decreed to the captive Pope; but let those already\nbrought forward suffice. These being admitted, it will be understood\nthat his Holiness, thanks to the distinguished privilege conferred on\nhim by our Subalpine gentlemen, not only could not make his appearance\nin the streets of his own Rome without manifest risk of life, but he\ncould not even descend to the basilica of the Vatican to perform a        782\nsacred function, without exposing himself to contumely and insult by\nthe very side of St. Peter\u2019s tomb, and even on the altar itself. The\noccurrences of the 8th December, 1870, in the vestibule of the\nPontifical residence; of the 10th March, 1871, within the Ges\u00f9; and of\nthe 23rd, 24th, 25th August, close to the Lateran and the Church of\nMaria sopr\u00e0 Minerva, confirm what we assert.\n\nThis, then, in its veritable reality, is the present condition of Pope\nPius IX. in Rome, after the oft-repeated promulgation of the law\ndeclaring him an inviolable sovereign like to the king.\n\nNor may the salaried apologists of our patrons treat these matters as\na jest in order to exculpate themselves from so horrible an\nabomination. Facts are facts, while words are but breath. The most\nirrefutable facts prove that if our Holy Father were to show himself\npublicly in the Rome of to-day, uncivilized as it is by these\nSubalpine rulers, the treatment he would receive would be no other\nthan such as is given alike to the clergy as to the most holy things,\nnay, to Christ himself, in the blessed sacrament of the altar.\n\nNow, it cannot be denied, for the Roman journals attest it, citing\ndays, time, places, names and surnames, that every day priests or\nreligious, bishops or prelates, are attacked or ill-used in the most\npopulous districts of Rome; that almost every day sacred images are\nstoned or profaned at the corners of the streets; and not unfrequently\nthe adorable eucharist, when borne as a viaticum to the sick, is\nexposed to mockery in the public square, even by those who wear\nmilitary badges; and all this occurs with the tacit consent of the\nofficers charged with keeping order in the city, no one of whom has\never imprisoned a single person guilty of such misdeeds. And after that\nthey would have us believe that Pope Pius IX. would be safe either in\nthe city or in the Vatican from the outrages or even from the blow of\nthese most civilized gentlemen who form the new Roman people!\n\nBe silent, as long as we live, O whited sepulchres!--race fit only to\npatronize assassins!\n\n\n                                 V.\n\nMoreover, the Holy Father, by the noble munificence of his jailers, is\nreduced to that degree of poverty that, were it not for the oblations\nof the faithful, he must either pine in misery or suffer the\ndegradation of his majesty. The glorious conquerors of Rome have taken\neverything from him, excepting the Vatican. And if, up to this time,\nthey have refrained from sacking this edifice, it is owing to that\n_veto_ of potentates which, as yet, has forbidden them access to\nit. Jugglers are in possession of the Quirinal; and they drew near to\nthe public treasury of the Pontificate with the sword of guardianship.\nIn one flash of lightning, the Pope saw himself deprived of\neverything. With a simple substitution of voters, the Pontifical\nestate is become the Subalpine estate--a magnificent example! since\nthen magnificently imitated by the Commune of Paris!\n\nIs is true that, in their law of the Guarantees, they have deigned to\nassign to him a species of civil list amounting to several millions of\nlire. But this was done for the sake of appearance alone; for well\nthey knew that, in practice, this article would have precisely the\nsame effect as that other article prescribing the famous\ninviolability. How in fact could these persons, who for five-and-twenty\nyears have known the magnanimous firmness of character of Pius IX.,       783\npersuade themselves that he would lower his dignity to accept an\nobolus from their criminal and sacrilegious hands, in compensation for\nthe kingdom they have taken from him? They understood beforehand that\nthis would be impossible, because, even admitting that the Holy Father\nhad been willing to admit their civil list, under the title of\nrestitution, a thing not unlawful in itself if done without prejudice\nto his rights, they perceived only too clearly that he could not have\ndone so in view of the malignant interpretations which would have\nfollowed the act, occasioning an immense scandal and clamor; as if the\nPope by receiving a modicum of that property the whole of which\nbelongs to him by right had conceded the rest, over which he has\nimmemorial claims.\n\nThe matter, however, took such a shape that these brave gentlemen had\nan ample field in which to display large figures, and even to acquire\nthe name of prodigality in offering round numbers to their victim.\nYes, indeed, they were prodigals, like unto those who offered vinegar\nto the crucified Saviour.\n\nGod, ever adorable in his providence, has so disposed events that the\nhearts of Catholics throughout the world have been moved to\ncompassionate their father in chains, and the gold of their filial\ncharity has abounded so wonderfully in his hands, that he has been\nable to succor most plentifully those of his faithful servants who\nhave fallen into straits for conscience\u2019 sake, together with many\nindigent persons who have no other resource for a livelihood than the\nheart of the imprisoned Pontiff.\n\nThe glory of this munificence is due to God alone, and the merit of it\nis to be ascribed to the faith of good Christians. On the other hand,\nthe infamy of having embittered the captivity of the Holy Father, by\nreducing him, with the Sacred College and his whole court, to a state\nof absolute want, if he would not wear the appearance of dishonor,\nthis belongs exclusively to the Subalpine rulers, who at the foot of\nthe Campidoglio are enjoying the spoils of the Pontificate, as the\ncrucifiers on Mount Calvary enjoyed the spoils obtained by rending the\ngarments of Christ.\n\n\n                                 VI.\n\nThe jailers, and the friends and servants of the jailers of the Holy\nFather, boast very much of the ample liberty he enjoys, which he can\nuse during his imprisonment for the regulation of the church and for\nperforming his office as Pope.\n\nLet us examine a little in what this charming liberty consists. This\nat the very first glance resolves itself into the following very clear\nformula: The Pope is at liberty to do that--and that alone--which the\ninimical power whose prisoner he is permits him to do.\n\nAnd, in point of fact, the Holy Father is under this power, which\nholds him in its hands, being _sub hostilem potestatem redactus_, as\nhe himself lately expressed it again in the Encyclical of May 15,\n1871, in which he formally repudiates the _Guarantees_ offered him in\nexchange for his principality. He who is under is _dependent_, and can\ndo only that to which he who is above consents. Thus the liberty of\nthe Pope is subject to the limits which the inimical power, his\noppressor, pleases to impose on him. And this same law of the\nGuarantees is the proof of the fact, inasmuch as it contains only a\nconcession of hypothetical privileges. But he who concedes accounts       784\nhimself superior to him to whom the concession is granted. Whence the\ntrue measure of the liberty of Pius IX. as Pope, is now simply the\narbitrary will of Italian Masonry, governed by the Subalpinists. This\nis a certain fact as to matters in general.\n\nWith regard to particulars, the Holy Father uses such liberty as he\nowes to his own courage and diligence, and the inimical power, his\njailer, cannot hinder him, though it would willingly do so, because a\npower stronger than itself, or certain human respects, forbid such\nopposition. As, for example, the Subalpine patrons would gladly hinder\nhis Holiness from publishing bulls or encyclicals, in condemnation of\ntheir lofty enterprises against God, religion, and the Apostolic See.\nHis Holiness, not being at liberty to publish them in Rome under their\nvery nose, sends them out of Italy to be printed, and in this way\npublishes them.\n\nNow, what can these very liberal gentlemen do in a case like this?\nDrag the Pope before the courts, and imprison him in the Castle of St.\nAngelo? Most willingly would they do this; but the rulers of Europe\nwould oppose it. There is, then, no course left to them except to\ninterdict the publication of them within the state by sequestrating\nthe papers which reprint these acts of the Pope; and this they did\nwith the Encyclical of November 1, 1870. If for others of later\nappearance they have shut their eyes and left them to their course, it\nhas been because they have at last been obliged to pay some regard to\npublic opinion, and have found their account in putting on a semblance\nof toleration.\n\nIn a similar manner, the Holy Father, finding that the Subalpine\nmasters trumpeted forth loudly to the world that he was left at\nliberty in the creation of bishops throughout Italy, embraced the\nopportunity to exercise his right and to fulfil his duty. With\nprudence certainly, but yet with boldness, he addressed himself to the\nwork. The matter was very displeasing to our gentlemen. But how were\nthey to hinder it? They wanted to give the Christian world to\nunderstand that they are honorable men, not only in the modern sense\nof the word, but also somewhat in the ancient sense: they wanted to\nprove that they knew how to keep their word without being compelled by\ncannons so to do. So _for this time_ it does not appear that they will\nrefuse entrance into their dioceses to the new pastors.\n\nBut thieves and loyalists as they are, they have taken advantage of\nthis act of the Holy Father, turning it to their own interest by\ncowardly proclaiming in every direction that the Holy Father, by thus\nusing the privileges comprised in the law of the Guarantees respecting\nthe induction of bishops into their sees, has, _ipso facto_, _accepted_\ntheir law, and thus retracted his refusal of the 15th of May, 1871,\nand thus (according to them) the conciliation between themselves and\nthe Holy See is in good progress; and it will not be long before the\naugust Pontiff will give up his kingly crown into the hands of John\nLanza: and in this manner the Italy of the Subalpinists will enjoy the\ndistinguished honor of having the supreme head of the church for the\ncourt-chaplain, and most humble servant of his ministers: an honor\ncertainly due to their merits as against faith, morality, and Catholic\nworship.\n\nThis attempt at imposition is the more senseless in that it supposes\nthat the Holy Father had no other right to nominate the bishops than\nas a state privilege; while the contrary is the case: the insertion of    785\nthe state in these nominations is merely a privilege granted by the\nPope: and the fact that the Pope has not thus recognized the Subalpine\ngentlemen outside of their own territory proves that he, far from\naccepting their _Guarantees_, does not even recognize them as\njuridically masters of the district in which they compiled the\ndocuments.\n\nBut the senselessness of the attempted imposition serves to prove how\ndetermined they are to prevent the Holy Father from exercising any\ntrue liberty.\n\n\n                                VII.\n\nExcepting the above-named use of his liberty, which the Holy Father\ncourageously exercises in spite of the useless repugnance of his\njailers, he in everything else remains in all the bonds and\nperplexities with which they think fit to surround him. And thus:\n\n1. Pius IX. is not at liberty to have a journal in Rome, in which he\nmay contradict the infinite number of falsities which the inimical\npower, through its officious and official oracles, utters against his\nperson, against his acts, those of his court, or those of the\nministers of the Holy See.\n\nShould he do so, the executive would subject him to all those rigorous\nmeasures and sequestrations to which all the Catholics sheets of Rome\nhave been subjected which have endeavored to defend his honor or his\ncause.\n\n2. Pius IX., as we have already pointed out, is no longer at liberty\nto publish his bulls, encyclicals, or allocutions in Rome: the fact\nbeing that the inimical power, in this same law of the Guarantees, has\nreserved to itself the faculty of judging them; and hence, either by\nway of legal or illegal confiscations, has full and absolute power to\nsuppress their publication by main force. This obliges the head of the\nchurch to make public his acts regarding the universal government of\nCatholicism, by despatching them to be divulged outside the dominion\nof his jailers; as he has done up to this date, and will continue to\ndo _donec transeat iniquitas_.\n\n3. Pius IX. in Rome is not at liberty to contradict publicly by\ntelegraph the inventions concerning himself and his Pontifical acts\nwhich the inimical power, his jailer, diffuses through the world by\nthis said telegraph; because the telegraph is under the express\nauthority of said power, and the use of it can be denied or rendered\ndifficult at its pleasure. Thus, last March the world received through\nthe telegraph fabulous accounts of a consistory held by the Pope, of\nan allocution and other particular acts, all invented on the spur of\nthe moment; and before the world can detect the disgraceful imposture,\nit may expect that for many days the falsehoods will be printed even\nin Catholic journals, because our Subalpine gentlemen have it in their\npower to mislead by means of the telegraph the Catholic community with\nany kind of misrepresentation concerning the words and deeds of the\nPope, without the possibility of the Pope\u2019s being able immediately to\nundeceive them. Whence the necessity that _no reliance at all_ should\nbe placed on any telegram that the agency of the Subalpine government\ntransmits from Rome respecting the words or affairs of the Supreme\nPontiff.\n\n4. Pius IX. in Rome is not at liberty to carry on a private\ncorrespondence securely with the bishops and faithful of the world by     786\nmeans of letters or telegrams; because both mails and telegraphs\nbelong to the inimical power which holds him captive. As an inimical\npower, precisely because it is inimical, believes itself licensed to\ntake every precaution regarding its imprisoned _enemy_, so no one can\never feel certain that the secrecy of the letters interchanged has not\nbeen violated, or that the telegrams have not been altered or refused.\nAll this is _a question of trust_. But meanwhile, setting aside the\ncase of telegrams directed to the Pope, and refused by the telegraph\nofficials, it is a fact that the Holy Father is obliged to keep his\nmissives away from the mail-bags of Italy when he has any important\ncorrespondence to carry on, as also other persons are obliged to do\nwhen they wish to communicate with the Holy See. We repeat it: _it is\na question of trust_: and how much those who now command in Rome may\nbe trusted is attested by the honesty they have thus far exhibited.\n\n5. Pius IX. in Rome and in the Vatican is not at liberty to receive\nevery one who wishes to visit him, or whom it may be necessary he\nshould see. All the approaches to the Pontifical palace are guarded by\nbailiffs of the inimical power. And these men, though they may often\nallow the goers and comers to be insulted by the rabble, never,\nhowever, omit to play the spy. This office they perform so well that\ncertain journals written by those who are doubly linked with the\npolice of the Subalpine gentry would be able to furnish, if needed,\nthe daily list of all those admitted to the vestibule of the apostolic\nresidence. It is clear from these circumstances that it depends solely\non the arbitrary will of the inimical power to forbid any one the power\nof ingress, or, if it prefer, to expel the individual from the city,\nand thus save him the trouble of the journey to the Vatican.\n\nIn addition to these facts, the stonings, menaces, hootings, and\nsimilar acts of urbanity practised in the streets of Rome and in the\nneighborhood of St. Peter\u2019s toward the numerous Catholic deputations\nwhich came this year to pay their homage to the august prisoner, by\nthe rabble introduced through the breach of the _Porta Pia_--these\nattest how great is that beautiful liberty enjoyed by the Pope in\nreceiving visitors, whether they come of their own accord or that he\nsends for them.\n\n6. Pius IX. in Rome will not long be at liberty to regulate the\nreligious institutions, and to employ them in the service of the\nchurches, as is right and proper he should do; because the inimical\npower is already on the alert to deprive the Holy See of this strong\nspiritual garrison: it is abolishing the orders, and depriving them of\ntheir property. The superiors-general of these orders, which are\nimmediately subject to the Pontiff, will in a short time have no bread\nto eat, no room to shelter them; they will wander homeless over the\nearth, and lose their subjects on all sides. In this way, one of the\ninstruments of the Pontiff, most useful to him in the administration\nof the church, will be, as it were, broken in his hand, and in the\ncity in which the Head of the Catholic Church has his seat the\nprofession of the evangelical state will be prohibited; and the Pope\nwill not be even able to give shelter to the various missionaries who\nare toiling in the cause of Christianity among the heathen of Asia and\nAmerica, when they come to render an account of their newly founded\nmissions; for in all Rome he will no longer have a religious house of     787\nhospitality at his disposal.\n\nWe will not lengthen details in order to enumerate the various other\nparticular modes of liberty which the Holy Father can no longer\nexercise in the fulfilment of his supreme office. The exposition we\nhave already given suffices to prove that he has no liberty, save such\nas the author of his affliction permits, either from his own authority\nor from other causes; the permission being compulsory on the part of\nthe enemy, and most unwillingly given. And this is the marvellous\nliberty now enjoyed by the Sovereign Pontiff, thanks to the\nSubalpinists, who have dethroned him and uncrowned him in Rome itself,\nout of love, as they say, for the holy church!\n\n\n                                VIII.\n\nLet us be just. Our Holy Father might be in a much worse condition\nthan the present one. His jailers as yet do not do him all the wrong\nthey would wish, but are not able to do him. This is true enough. They\nhave not as yet assailed the Vatican, and dragged Pius IX. to the\nFortress of Ancona, as they have done to the illustrious Cardinal\nMorichini, Bishop of Jesi; or to a convent of Turin, as they have done\nto the imperturbable Cardinal de Angelis. We repeat it: they would\nlike to do this, but are not able; they would like to do this and\nworse, but the governments of Europe have absolutely forbidden them to\nset foot in the Vatican, or to lay hands on the Sovereign Pontiff.\nThis and nothing else restrains them in the frenzy of their hatred\nfrom beheading him at once. This and nothing else constrains them to\nmoderate the impetuosity of their hatred in carrying on their\npersecutions against the Papacy. Fear compels these little Neros to\ndon the mantle of Julian; for, while under the eyes of two diplomatic\nbodies in Rome, they dare not carry their outrages on the Pope and his\ndignity beyond a certain limit.\n\nFrom this we may infer that the only and _ultimate_ safeguard remaining\nat the present moment to the Holy Father in the Vatican is not the law\ncalled the law of the Guarantees, nor is it trust in the governors,\nbut the corps of diplomatists who have received from their various\ngovernments instructions to maintain inviolate the asylum of the\noctogenarian Pontiff, and to protect his august person.\n\nWere it not for this only and ultimate safeguard, Catholics throughout\nthe world would now be weeping over their Father exiled from Rome, and\nperhaps as having already expired from the bullets or sword of the\nenemy.\n\n\n                                 IX.\n\nBut how long will this only and ultimate safeguard endure?--this\nprotection which renders the life and person of the Holy Father secure\nin Rome?\n\nAs long as the Subalpinists hold the reins of government in Italy,\nthere seems no reason to fear that the security will become less.\nThese men know too well that, were they to lose Rome, they would lose\neverything; and the only mode of keeping possession of Rome a little\nlonger is not to violate the Vatican. But on that day on which the\nItalian faction shall get tired of being led by these ten or twelve\nPiedmontese who form the perpetual Zodiac of the ministry; on that day\nwhen this faction is weary of seeing all the master-machinery of the\nstate, the army, finance, bureaucracy, and diplomacy regulated by\nPiedmontese; on that day when it takes it into its head to render the\ngovernment of this factious Italy _Italian_ in its manner of rebellion,   788\nrather than provincial--on that day the danger will arise that even\nthis said only and ultimate safeguard may lose its force. For in such\na case, the mobocracy would come to the surface, and a scene of\ndestruction would be inaugurated varying little from that carried out\nby the Commune of Paris.\n\nThe dilemma is this: either the Subalpinists or the Socialists must\nprove fatal to our poor Italy, prepared as it is for revolution. God\nalone knows what is to happen in the proximate future. But it is\ncertain that the present condition of the Holy Father in Rome cannot\nendure much longer: it is certain that any agreement between him and\nhis spoilers is utterly out of the question. It is also certain that\nEurope could not tolerate for a series of years that the Head of the\nCatholic Church should be held as a prisoner by the men who at the\npresent day hold dominion throughout the Peninsula; and, finally, it\nis certain that in his own time God will interfere, and his\nintervention will not be to reward the persecutors of his Vicar on\nearth. These four certainties keep the world in suspense, and the\nauthors and approvers of the transitory triumph of the _Porta Pia_\nin uneasiness.\n\nBut in this extremity of affairs and in this intense trepidation of\nmind, what is the duty of Catholics?\n\nIs it to wish for an agreement between the Pope and the inimical power\nwhich oppresses him?\n\nThis is but to assume the office of members of the faction, under the\ndisguise of zealous Catholics. He only who hath his part in the leaven\nof the Pharisees can believe it possible for the successor of St.\nPeter to sacrifice the eternal rights of Christ to the interests of\nBelial.\n\nIs it to recommend the Holy Father to abandon his own state and seek\ncompensation in some Catholic country outside of Italy? This is the\nadvice of the imprudent. The Holy Father has received from God the\ngrace of office to determine what is the best for the Apostolic See\nand for the church. No one need trouble himself to give advice\nunasked. He has his natural counsellors, and above all he has the\nSpirit of the Lord, with whom he is in daily and fervent communion. If\nPius IX. remains in Rome, notwithstanding the satanic tempest which\nhowls so wildly and so furiously against him, it is a sign that he\nknows such to be the will of God, and therefore makes it his duty to\nremain. In the course of events, we shall see that, if the Pope has\nremained in Rome, it is because it was best that he should remain\nthere.\n\nThe real duty of Catholics is, on the other hand (besides assiduous\nprayer, conformably to the example of the primitive Christians when\nSt. Peter was _in vinculis_), to unite and so work as to hasten the\nliberation of our common Father.\n\nThe Italian factionists reproach us Catholics of Italy with being\nparricides because we implore from God and men this sighed-for\nliberation. But it seems to us that it is they who commit parricide\nwho, having imprisoned the Pope after officially declaring such an act\nto be contrary to the laws of nations and more than barbarous, have\nbrought injury and evil upon the country which we are ever praying God\nto diminish. As for the rest, we Italian Catholics do not understand\nhow the independence, glory, and prosperity of our country can be made\nproperly to consist in the spoliation and captivity of the Supreme\nPontiff, and in being trod under foot by the Subalpinists.\n\nWe, imploring the liberation of our Holy Father, have not the remotest    789\nidea that that liberation will cost any part of Italy its\nindependence. The honor of calling foreigners into Italy, to subject\nit to personal advantage, and to pay for such power by presenting\nthese foreigners with Italian provinces, nay, with the keys of Italy\nitself--we Catholics leave this to the idol of the Subalpinists, to\ntheir Cavour, and to their sheep of every color.\n\nWe Italian Catholics, we say it again, do not desire that the\ndomination of our Father should bring with it any foreign domination,\nnot even over a hand\u2019s-breadth of Italian territory. The shameful\ntraffic in people and in Italian territory could not be for us a means\nof liberating the Pope, as for the Subalpinists it has been a means of\nthe so-called liberation of Italy. In this we are all agreed; we wish\nfor the independence of justice, because justice alone ensures the\nhappiness of nations.\n\nBut we Italian Catholics can of ourselves do little, because the\ndominant inimical power, being the enemy of the Pope, is naturally our\nenemy also, although we are the immense national majority. We are the\ndeplorable victims of modern liberty, which wholly consists in the\noppression of the many, who are honest but weak, beneath the feet of\nthe few, who are crafty and strong. Besides this, very serious and\ninsuperable difficulties of conscience oblige us to abstain from using\nthe most powerful of legal arms which liberalism says it has left in\nthe hands of that majority which is trodden under foot by the\nminority. So that, if we may from this take occasion to cherish more\nsolid hopes that God will at length assist us in effecting means of\nsafety, yet in actual combat we now find ourselves unequal to the\ncontest.\n\nThis is not the case with the Catholics of the other countries of\nEurope. It is their peculiar privilege so to address themselves to the\nwork that their governments may not only preserve and strengthen the\nonly and ultimate safeguard of the life and person of the Holy Father\nin Rome; but that they may use their power for his liberation; that\nthus with his full liberty the true liberty of the people may again\nflourish--that liberty which is now enchained with Pius IX. in the\nVatican.\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n                           ELINOR\u2019S TRIAL.                                790\n\n\n\u201cI do think John Lloyd is very weak in giving in to his wife so much!\nTo think now of his letting her send Elinor to a convent school! Such\na risk for a Protestant! Ten chances to one that Elinor comes back a\nPapist. And then her _reasons_ are so absurd, that Protestant\nboarding-schools cultivate too much of folly and fashion, etc.! I have\nno patience with Elizabeth. If she were a Catholic herself, there\nmight be some excuse for her wanting her daughter educated among them,\nbut as she is a Protestant, I think Protestant schools might serve her\npurpose.\u201d\n\nThus speaks Mrs. Robert Lennox of her husband\u2019s sister. She is talking\nto her husband while they are going home from a fashionable church in\nNew York. She is a stately, handsome lady, to whom her rich attire\nseems well adapted. Just now she appears displeased and somewhat more\nhaughty than usual, but the face is refined and the bearing polished.\n\nMore gentle than his wife in the treatment of the question in hand is\nMr. Lennox.\n\n\u201cWell, I cannot say Elizabeth is so very far out of the way. You know\nJohn\u2019s means are very limited, and these convent schools are cheaper\nthan ours. Besides, Elizabeth knows Elly cannot compete in dress and\nall the furbelows, as our Lizzie does. So she prefers not to have her\nexposed to the uncomfortableness of being the subject of derogatory\ncomparisons. You know young folks are keenly sensitive on such\npoints.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut, Robert, must such reasons weigh against the risk of perverting\nthe girl\u2019s faith, the undermining of her religion? Would you trust\nthose sly, insinuating sisters with our daughter?\u201d\n\nMr. Lennox smiles significantly as he replies: \u201cI would not object to\nLizzie\u2019s receiving some of that peculiar, modest, quiet air which\nthose sisters have and so often impart to their pupils. There is some\nnameless charm, I cannot describe it better than by saying it is the\nopposite of that which the young ladies of the present day cultivate\nfor their deportment, and which seems to belong almost exclusively to\nthis training.\u201d\n\n\u201cPshaw! Mere affectation of meekness. The girls are all the same at\nheart. Why should not they be? I tell you it isn\u2019t worth the risk!\nMark my words, you\u2019ll see the effect on Elly\u2019s religion.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, you know Elizabeth said that even that change of religion was\nbetter than the irreligion or isms of the day.\u201d\n\n\u201cNow, Robert, it is just to oppose me that you so persistently uphold\nElizabeth in this. Is it to be supposed that girls of sixteen are\ngoing to take to isms in Protestant schools or irreligion either? Why,\nthey don\u2019t know enough for that, at their age!\u201d\n\n\u201cI do not dispute you. I only think that Elizabeth has preferred for\nElly this risk rather than have her of John\u2019s state of mind. And that\nis why John is so easy in the matter. Being of no faith himself, he\nprides himself on being also of no prejudice. \u2018The greater the faith,\nthe greater the bigotry,\u2019 he says.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd I think you are just about as bad as John,\u201d says the lady. \u201cI        791\ndon\u2019t believe you listened to the sermon at all to-day.\u201d\n\nThis last charge passes unanswered, because they have arrived at their\nown door, where we leave them.\n\n\n                                 II.\n\nTwo years after this, the cousins, Lizzie Lennox and Elinor Lloyd,\nhave returned from their respective schools: Lizzie from her\nfashionable seminary, where she has received every advantage that\nmoney could purchase, and where she has associated with the daughters\nof the wealthiest, if not the most refined, families in the land. And\nif wealth will not purchase the means and open the way for refinement,\npray what will? Does it not free the path from the thorns of toil,\ngive time and means for culture and for travel, and to surround\nourselves with the ennobling influences of art? And, above all, does\nit not grant us the free indulgence of generous impulses? Do not all\nthe mortal ills of flesh which bear upon the rich bear also on the\npoor, with more added to stand in the way of their refinement? It\nwould seem so.\n\nLizzie Lennox has all these advantages of wealth in her case, but her\ncousin Elinor Lloyd is the daughter of a poor man. Poorer now than he\nwas two years ago, when he let his prudent wife have her way in the\nchoice of a convent school for her daughter. Elinor has been very\nhappy with the sisters, to whom she has become sincerely attached.\nTheir good example has not been lost upon her, but she denies\nindignantly that any under-handed means have been used to warp her\nreligious feelings. They have simply and honestly acted out the\ndictates of their own faith, exacting from her only such general\ncompliance as would be required in the schools of any denomination\namong Protestants. If her affections have been won, and her young\nheart drawn toward the religion of these gentle teachers, that was the\nrisk her mother took when she sent her willingly among the Sisters of\nCharity.\n\nThe cousins are nearly of an age. Lizzie is named after her father\u2019s\nsister, Mrs. Lloyd, and Elinor after her aunt, Mrs. Lennox.\n\nThese cousins are strikingly alike, and yet singularly unlike in their\nappearance. Their faces seem to have been cast in almost the same\nmould, so exactly does every feature correspond, but the coloring is\nso different that they present opposite types of beauty. For they are\nvery beautiful. Lizzie is exceedingly fair, with light auburn hair and\nhazel eyes; the same reddish tint seeming to lurk in the eyes and\nlashes as in the hair, which peculiarity any close observer of faces\nmay often see in this type. But Elinor\u2019s eyes are a dark brown, and\nher hair is very dark. She is too fair and pale for a brunette, and\nher eyes are not black enough. Despite this difference in color, they\nare very like her cousin Lizzie\u2019s light orbs in expression. It is as\nif a painter should take two sketches of the same face, and simply\nchange his colors for the touching of them. Indeed, a cast of each\nmight pass for the same person, so like are they, even to the carriage\nof the head, the turn of the throat, the curve of the shoulders. I am\nthus exact in my description, because out of this wonderful likeness\nand difference of face and form came Elinor\u2019s trial. But now, at\neighteen, Elinor\u2019s face is softer and sweeter than that of her blonde\ncousin. This difference is seen as they are listening or talking, more\nthan while their faces are in repose. Shall we say that it is the         792\nresult of training and education that Elinor seems the more refined\nand modest? Or is it only a matter of inheritance, or a trick of\nmanner betokening nothing? I present them thus to the reader, who may\nguess somewhat of their respective characters, as they sit chatting\ntheir cousinly talk in Lizzie\u2019s room. Lizzie is dressing to go out\nwith Elinor, and talking while she proceeds with her toilet.\n\n\u201cBut, Elly, where is the harm of flirting a little, so long as you do\nnothing serious, and never commit yourself?\u201d\n\n\u201cI think you do commit yourself, Lizzie, when you put pen to paper to\nanswer a stranger\u2019s letter, and when you cannot tell whether he is\ntrue or false. More likely he is the latter, from the very fact of his\ntrying to draw you on. How do you know how he may use your letter?\u201d\n\n\u201cBut I haven\u2019t signed my name, only my own initials. I use E. L., not\nL. L. And you know I am known rather as Lizzie Lennox than Elizabeth\nLennox. No one ever thinks of me as Elizabeth--I don\u2019t seem to be that\nto myself. Now, you are either Elinor or Elly, but I am just Lizzie.\nSo you see I can hide under my own honest initials.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh Lizzie! why hide at all? Give it up. I don\u2019t like this kind of\nthing. I don\u2019t believe the men who write to girls in this way care one\nbit for them, except to make them contribute to their own amusement,\nand feed their conceit. What good does it do when you don\u2019t even see\neach other?\u201d\n\n\u201cBut we may, after, if we want to, you know.\u201d\n\n\u201cI shouldn\u2019t want to see him, Lizzie; I hope you will never meet.\u201d\n\n\u201cNow, Elly, it is just being with those sisters that makes you talk\nso. Why, all the girls do so. It is only for fun, and the young men\nknow we don\u2019t mean wrong. I could say \u2018Evil he who evil thinks,\u2019 only\nI know you are not evil, only sisterified in this matter.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut, Lizzie, sisterified or not, you know I like fun as much as other\ngirls, only I don\u2019t think this _is_ fun: I think it isn\u2019t just right.\nIt is making yourself too cheap. I don\u2019t like men well enough to do so\nmuch for their amusement. I may be peculiar, but I certainly hate a\ncovert thing, and personals in the newspapers are very covert and very\ncowardly. Mamma says a respectable paper will not publish them.\nBesides, you dare not let your father and mother know this, dare you?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! of course they would get a great scare, and think I was going to\ndo something much worse than I mean. But that doesn\u2019t prove I would do\nwrong.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo; but, Lizzie, don\u2019t you hate to deceive them when they trust you\nso freely? Is this stranger to be trusted and they not?\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, I don\u2019t want to give pain to either papa or mamma; and so if\nthey don\u2019t know it, they will be spared all pain and fuss in the\nmatter, and nobody hurt. Now I\u2019m ready. Let\u2019s go.\u201d And the two leaving\nthe house, the subject is dropped for the time.\n\n                      *     *     *     *     *\n\nOnly one month has passed since the cousins have had this morning\u2019s\ntalk together, but it has brought a great change in their feelings and\nrelations to each other.\n\nFirst, Elinor has quietly but courageously avowed herself a Catholic.\nAlone and unsupported she has made the great step--alone she goes to\nMass and Vespers--and without sympathy from her family she practises\nfaithfully all the observances of her church. In all this, she has        793\nshown her aunt Lennox a wise prophet, but that lady is no less\nindignant on that account. She enlarges upon her favorite text, and\ncongratulates herself that she has taken no such risk for her own\ndaughter\u2019s falling into Popish pitfalls, and traps set for the young\nand innocent. Lizzie chooses to consider herself called upon to give\nup the intimacy and nearly all intercourse with her cousin. In this\nshe is secretly governed by a sense of annoyance at Elinor\u2019s\npersistent discountenancing of her clandestine correspondences, but\nshe makes a show of setting herself against \u201cPopish influences.\u201d\n\nThe parents of Elinor have taken the matter with seeming indifference.\nShe loses none of their love in consequence of the change in her\nfaith, and they are sure she is quite as good a daughter as ever. But\na greater trouble, if this is a trouble, now absorbs their minds. John\nLloyd has failed in business and failed in health. He is a broken-down\nman. In this emergency, Elinor has determined to accept a situation as\nmusical governess in a wealthy family. She has felt the tug at her\nheartstrings, no less from her wounded pride in the matter of her\nchanged social position, than in the hard necessity to leave her home\nand parents. She is no saint, only a good, pure-minded girl, who is\nscrupulously conscientious in all things. She battles against a bitter\nfeeling of almost envy toward the better luck and easier life of her\ncousin. She does not really wish Lizzie to be as poor as herself, and\nshe is sure she would rather be herself than Lizzie, but she does wish\nher father and mother were in the same comfortable ease that her uncle\nand aunt enjoy. Her uncle is disposed to be very kind to her, but he\nis hampered by his wife and daughter in their bitter opposition to\nher. He has sent her a check to defray all necessary expenses in her\nwardrobe. So she goes to her new home so nicely clad that at least no\nair of shabbiness clings to her. Brave as she may be, this feminine\nsensitiveness to her appearance is very acute in her. Foolish vanity\nconcerning dress she may not have, but, being young, she is only\nnatural in liking to look well, to pass criticism which she cannot\nignore at least creditably. If a young woman has not this much of\nfeeling concerning her toilet, she is probably slovenly, or else she\naffects an eccentricity which is more disagreeable than a love for\nfinery. Elinor is refined in her nature, and she is not strong-minded,\nso she likes the good opinion of others.\n\nElinor soon settles into the new and changed relations of her life,\nthe more easily because her employer proves exceedingly kind. As her\nforte is music, she is of course, in the exercise of that\naccomplishment, brought into more constant contact and intercourse\nwith the guests at the house than the mere instruction and supervision\nof her pupils would demand. Her seat at the piano calls to her the\nattention and brings upon her the criticism of many who otherwise\nmight never notice her. And so it has happened that young Mr.\nSchuyler, the brother of her hostess, has more frequently than any\nother turned the leaves of her music, sang to her accompaniment, and\ngazed admiringly upon the pretty hands moving over the keys and upon\nthe charming face turned to the pages before it. Mr. Schuyler is an\nagreeable young gentleman, good-looking enough, graceful enough, and\nflattering enough in his address to ladies to win their pleased\nrecognition of his attentions. But buzzing in his admiration around       794\neach sweet flower like the veriest male coquette of a bee, he is just\nunstable enough also to tantalize the fair recipients of his\nattentions. Elinor likes him, but with a little reserve. She is not of\na distrustful nature, but she does not quite like Mr. Schuyler\u2019s\nmanner to her. He has been very unreserved in his admiration. He has\nattempted some sentimental love-making, but there has always been a\nsort of holding back--a non-committal manner, which has not seemed to\nher straightforward and manly. It has appeared to her that he has been\nattempting to gain her regard without making any actual avowal\nhimself, and that he is trying to amuse himself or feed his own vanity\nat her expense. Yet she is so afraid of being unjust to him, knowing\nthat her position in the family may make her unduly sensitive, that\nshe strives against this feeling. He really is very kind in a great\nmany little ways which she would be ashamed not to acknowledge, and\nshe thinks, if she were not a governess for his sister, she might\nreceive his attentions in a less cavilling spirit.\n\nIn the meantime, Mr. Schuyler studies Elinor from quite a different\npoint of view from any she imagines. He has found by repeated\nexperiment that he cannot make her understand or respond to various\nlittle devices which he has been in the habit of using to flirt with\ncertain school-girls whom he has met often in his daily walks and\nrides. All these signals pass unnoticed upon the convent girl. But in\nfluttering thus around this innocent, cold light, the gay moth has got\nhis wings singed. He does really love Elinor as much as such a nature\nis capable of loving. Just because she has _not_ responded to any of\nhis advances, he has become more seriously interested in her. But just\nwhen an honorable feeling of choosing her from all others is dawning\nas a possibility on his mind, a wonderful discovery bursts upon him.\n\nHe has been amusing himself by conducting a correspondence with some\nunknown lady who has signed herself \u201cE. L.\u201d This incognita has at last\nyielded to an oft-urged request to send her picture, and a fine\nphotograph of a beautiful girl has come to him. Whose face does he\nsee? \u201cBy all that is astounding,\u201d he says, \u201cMiss Lloyd!\u201d He cannot be\nmistaken. The very same. It is a Rembrandt shadow picture, by which he\nstudies every line of the profile, while it shows also the contour of\nthe full face. There is the dark hair waving from the same fair\nforehead. The eyes are the same dark orbs with the long lashes, only\nhe has never seen just this bright, coquettish, laughing look in them\nbefore. It is wonderfully charming in the picture, but he really does\nnot like it as well as the other thoughtful, intent gaze he has lately\ncome to love so well.\n\n\u201cThe demure little cheat!\u201d he says. \u201cWell, she is very versatile, it\nmust be confessed. Who would have thought it? But stop. This may be a\ncheat. The whole thing is so unlike her. I do believe the writer has\nsent Miss Lloyd\u2019s picture instead of her own. \u2018E. L.\u2019 L for Lloyd\ncertainly, and I saw Elinor Lloyd written on her music, and, by Jove!\nI think it was the very writing. I\u2019ll look again\u201d--which he does, and\nfinds it to be just the very same E and L; and no wonder, for Lizzie\nLennox wrote it in other days, when she gave that music to her cousin.\n\nThen he observes, what careless Lizzie has never once thought of, the\nname of the photographer, to whom he goes at once, and by no very\nadroit means discovers the name of the fair original. And here he is      795\nagain astonished. He finds he has the photograph of Miss Lizzie\nLennox. \u201cL. L.,\u201d he says to himself, \u201cand not E. L., after all,\u201d and\nin his bewilderment it is actually some days before it occurs to him\nthat Lizzie is the pet name for Elizabeth.\n\nNow, having arrived thus far in his pursuit of information under\ndifficulties, he is unable to decide whether she is Miss Lennox or\nMiss Lloyd. In this dilemma he questions his sister, Mrs. Wood, and\ndetermines that she can scarcely be any other than the Miss Lloyd she\nprofesses herself. So the false name has been given the photographer,\nhe thinks; and he makes up his mind that Miss Lloyd, though\nunquestionably very charming, is about as profound a coquette as he is\never likely to meet.\n\nAnd so believing, his manner toward Elinor takes on a new phase, which\npleases her so little that it has the effect of making her more\nreserved than heretofore. She now avoids him as much as possible, and\nyet she is conscious of a sharp pain in thus being driven to an\nattitude of defence. She is young and frank, and would be\nlight-hearted if in her true position. She has really liked Frederick\nSchuyler because she found him companionable in a house where all are\neither older or younger than herself except him. Their tastes are\nsimilar in many things, and of late he had seemed to her more honest.\nBut now he treats her with a certain familiarity of look and tone\nwhich offends her nice sense of propriety. She cannot guess at the\nfalse position in which she is placed. She has been very reticent\nconcerning herself and her relatives. True pride and dignity have made\nher forbear to allude to her wealthy relations, the Lennoxes, now that\nshe is supporting herself. She does not wish to seem to make any claim\nfor consideration outside of her own individual merits. This is not\nvanity, but proper self-respect; and this feeling is increased by the\nutter silence which Lizzie has preserved toward her. But as she\nwithdraws from even the slight friendship which she had allowed to\nspring up between herself and Mr. Schuyler, she feels more lonely. Her\nreligion separates her also from a closer confidence with Mrs. Wood,\nwho goes to a fashionable Unitarian church.\n\nBut Frederick Schuyler does not give up his interest in this baffling\ncoquette, for so he firmly believes Elinor to be. Does he not hold the\nproof? He has sent his own picture to E. L. at the usual address, and\nhe firmly believes that Elinor Lloyd has that picture in her\npossession. He waits until he receives an acknowledgment from E. L.;\nand then he watches Elinor. He is prepared to see her betray her\noverwhelming confusion at discovering who her unknown correspondent\nis. What, then, is his amazement, his disappointment, at seeing no\nripple of disturbance in her composed demeanor! He is exasperated at\nthis assurance. He determines to shake her composure by direct means.\nThe opportunity offers only too soon.\n\nAs the last music lesson for the day is finished and the pupil bounds\nfrom the room, Mr. Frederick Schuyler presents himself with a peculiar\nand, to Elinor, an offensive smile on his face.\n\n\u201cMiss Lloyd,\u201d he says blandly, \u201cdo you not think it is time to drop\nthis masking?\u201d\n\nElinor looks at him with wondering and offended eyes. They are not the\neyes of either the picture, or the soft brown ones he has known\nhitherto as hers. They flash up to him in angry brilliancy as she         796\nreplies:\n\n\u201cI do not understand you, sir!\u201d So sure is he, and so amazed at this\nstubbornness, that he almost as indignantly replies:\n\n\u201cAnd I am sure I cannot understand you!\u201d\n\n\u201cI do not desire that you should,\u201d she retorts: \u201cbut I think it due to\nmyself to demand why you presume to thus address me, Mr. Schuyler.\u201d\n\nThe offended tone remains, but blended with it is a little faint touch\nof grieved feeling, which his nice ear detects.\n\n\u201cCan you pretend to still treat me as if you did not recognize me? Is\nmy picture so unlike me that you do not know the original?\u201d\n\n\u201cYour picture!\u201d and such a world of wonderment is expressed in her\nvoice that he thinks she ought to be on the stage for consummate\nacting.\n\n\u201cPerhaps you do not recognize this,\u201d and he holds before her a picture\nso like herself that she is confounded. For the moment, she really\ndoes not see her cousin Lizzie as plainly as herself. The photograph,\nlike one of those libellous stories which are true in detail, but\nfalse in implication, has given the reddish tint in Lizzie\u2019s hair,\nbrows, and lashes dark as her own, and there is the blonde cousin\npresented, the very counterpart of the brunette, one. The light hazel\neyes are in the photograph, dark as Elinor\u2019s own.\n\nElinor gazes speechless for a moment. Then she recognizes the dress of\nher cousin, and the expression _not_ her own which she knows so\nwell. It all rushes upon her perception at once--the cruel\nmistake--Lizzie\u2019s clandestine correspondence, of which she disapproved\nso much--the well-known resemblance between them--the picture more\nlike herself than Lizzie--she sees it all, and she sees Mr. Schuyler\u2019s\ntriumph in her discomfiture. Guilty Lizzie would not look so guilty as\ninnocent Elinor looks now.\n\n\u201cCheckmate!\u201d says Mr. Schuyler. His tone stings her.\n\n\u201cMr. Schuyler, this is not my picture. I never sat for it.\u201d\n\n\u201cMiss Lloyd!\u201d\n\n\u201cI repeat, sir! This is not my picture, and I wear no mask.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut you are \u2018E. L.,\u2019\u201d he says, showing her his last missive with that\nsignature, \u201cand you acknowledge receiving one like this,\u201d and he\nconfronts her with a duplicate of his own picture.\n\n\u201cMy name is Elinor Lloyd, and I have never written to you, and this is\nthe first time I have seen either of these pictures,\u201d she replies,\nglancing disdainfully at each of them.\n\n\u201cDo you know whose this is?\u201d he asks.\n\nAt this point-blank question, Elinor bursts into tears. The cruelty of\nthe position in which she finds herself is too much for her. She will\nnot betray her cousin, and she knows that on her own denial alone,\nagainst overwhelming evidence, rests her defence of herself. And in\ntears, distressed beyond measure, she rushes from the room. Mr.\nSchuyler gives a long, low whistle. He is inclined to believe she has\ntold him the truth, in spite of all he knows and has seen. For why\ndoes she wish to deny it? What girl who could do this thing would so\nspurn the accusation? Her proud assertion, \u201cMy name is Elinor Lloyd,\nand I have never written to you,\u201d rings in his ears. He believes it,\nas we will all of us sometimes believe, apparently against reason. He\nknows that he wishes to believe in her truth, despite his vanity.\n\nA little book lies near a roll of music on the piano, with her gloves\nand hat. He takes up this book and examines it, for no reason except      797\nthat it appears to belong to her. A copy of Dickens\u2019 _Barnaby Rudge_,\nwith a mark at the description of the Lord George Gordon Riots, and\npencil marks on the margin. He turns idly to the fly-leaf, and sees\nwritten, \u201cElizabeth Lennox, from her brother Robert.\u201d O cruel\nevidence! \u201cCircumstance, that unspiritual god and miscreator,\u201d again\nshows Elinor as a liar. What can he do now but doubt her word? Elinor\nmeanwhile is pacing her room in a tumult of agitation. Her first\nimpulse is to abandon her engagement with Mrs. Wood at once, and go to\nher parents. But poverty among other hard impositions forbids us\nacting on the dictates of pride, be it ever so honorable. Elinor\nshrinks from staying, but also shrinks from giving her reasons for\nleaving to her parents or to Mrs. Wood. To give false ones, covering\nher real one, never for one moment occurs to her. She feels keenly the\ncruelty, the injustice of the false position in which Lizzie\u2019s folly\nhas placed her. Yet she is too generous at heart to betray Lizzie even\nto her mother. She knows that when Lizzie told her of this \u201cbit of\nfun\u201d it was in confidence, and troublesome as the trust has proved,\nshe will keep it until she is released. But she feels how hard it is\nto know how to act rightly, unaided, uncounselled. One refuge,\nhowever, she has--one counsellor who never betrays his trust, and who\ndoes not require her cousin\u2019s name or identity. O blessed privilege of\na Catholic! The safe, sure refuge of the confessional is Elinor\u2019s.\nWhat better human guide and comforter than her pastor can she seek? No\nfears of a betrayed trust is here. So to him she goes, and from him\nshe receives the needed strength to bear her heavy trial--for heavy\ntrial it is on such a young heart, all the more so because she cannot\nsuppose her silence has put a stop to this disgraceful affair. She has\nwritten to Lizzie explaining what has happened, and begging her to\nlift this weight from her, and at least free her from this blame. And\nLizzie has indignantly replied that she will not interfere, and that\nshe believes Elinor to be the betrayer of her name to Fred Schuyler,\nand moreover hints that it has been done to win him to herself.\n\nThis rouses Elinor to such a degree that she nearly forgets her\ncounsel to \u201creturn good for evil.\u201d Prayer and meditation, however,\nthose best of medicines for disturbed souls, work their good effect\nfor her, and she is able still to bear in silence, trusting that time\nwill lift the stigma off her. So she shuns as best she can all\nintercourse with Mr. Schuyler.\n\nAnd thus about three unhappy weeks pass. Mr. Schuyler gives up trying\nto enlist Elinor\u2019s attention, and he leaves the last communication of\nE. L. unanswered. He receives no more of those interesting missives.\nLizzie, thoroughly frightened, stops this amusement for herself.\n\nBut at last the Nemesis, circumstance, overtakes her--the circumstance\nof meeting Mr. Frederick Schuyler at a party. A very small\ncircumstance apparently, but pregnant with much for three individuals.\nHe sees her standing not far off from him, in all the blaze of\ngas-light and full dress. He has never seen Elinor at this advantage,\nbut the perfect profile and the proud carriage of the head impress him\nat once. Yet those blonde locks and the light laughing eyes--these are\nneither like Elinor\u2019s nor the picture. Lovely this face certainly is,\nbut he remembers the darker one as pleasing him more. The remarkable      798\nresemblance, however, has so startled him, that he actually trembles\nas he asks a friend who has been talking with her to tell him her name.\n\n\u201cMiss Lennox.\u201d\n\n\u201cDo you know her first name?\u201d he says, with forced composure.\n\n\u201cOh! yes. Lizzie Lennox and I are old friends; let me introduce you.\u201d\nAnd in the brief interval before he is presented, he only remembers\nthat it is L. L. and not E. L., the lady of the photograph but not of\nthe correspondence.\n\nLizzie passes this ordeal with a frightened, throbbing heart, but a\npolite, calm exterior, thankful to be very soon claimed for the next\ndance, and to leave Mr. Schuyler for the present at least. She is a\nfoolish coquette, but not an evil-minded girl. Weak, vain, selfish,\nbut not bad-hearted--she has really felt troubled by the mean way in\nwhich she has refused to clear her cousin of the suspicion which she\nhas brought upon her, but her selfishness has prevailed in the matter.\nTo protect herself has seemed to her of more consequence than to clear\nElinor. And the possible consequence of her parents knowing all about\nthis little escapade has not seemed to her at all pleasant to\ncontemplate. And so she has been vacillating between the desire to do\nright and the fear of exposure ever since she has received Elinor\u2019s\nletter. She is equally ignorant of how much she may be known to Mr.\nSchuyler, or how far she may be protected by her cousin\u2019s magnanimity.\nShe moreover finds Mr. Schuyler better than his photograph on\ninspection, as a handsome face generally is better than a photograph\nof it. Meanwhile, that gentleman has recollected that Elizabeth and\nLizzie are the same name. He has been watching this airy, graceful dancer,\nand he has seen that she has been observing him. Elinor is\nabsolved from all blame in his mind. The only shred of mystery left is\nthe name in that book of hers. Lizzie, resting after her last round\ndance, sees him approach with both dread and pleasure. He wastes no\ntime in prefatory remarks, but says, \u201cMiss Lennox, are you related to\na Miss Elinor Lloyd?\u201d\n\nLizzie has the command of this situation better than Mr. Schuyler. She\nknows the full purport of the question, but being asked by Elinor in a\nletter to speak the truth while she can yet hide it, and by handsome\nFred Schuyler looking into her eyes, and knowing her for the girl he\nhas been flirting with, are two very different matters. Here she may\nmake a virtue of necessity, and perhaps a conquest at the same time.\nAh! if our good deeds are viewed by the light of our motives, how very\nmuch the virtue in them seems to pale.\n\nLizzie says with charming candor, \u201cOh! yes, she is my cousin; do you\nknow her?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, Miss Lennox, and I saw your name in a book she had--_Barnaby\nRudge_--and it appeared to have been quite attentively read, from\nthe marginal notes I saw.\u201d\n\nLizzie shows a momentary astonishment. \u201cWhy, Mr. Schuyler, the only\ncopy of Dickens\u2019 _Barnaby Rudge_ I have is at home in the New\nRiverside set papa gave me only lately--since\u201d--she pauses a little\nconfused--\u201csince I have seen Elly last. Besides, I don\u2019t make notes on\nthe margins of my books, and I am quite sure Elly would not in mine. I\nthink it could not have been my name you saw.\u201d\n\n\u201cIndeed, I saw it, \u2018Elizabeth Lennox,\u2019 and from your \u2018brother Robert.\u2019\u201d\n\nLizzie laughs merrily, and she looks the very image of innocent fun as    799\nshe responds to this triumphant assertion.\n\n\u201cOh! that\u2019s a good joke! My _brother_ Robert! Why, that\u2019s papa! And\nthe name is his sister\u2019s. She is Elinor\u2019s mother. Why didn\u2019t she tell\nyou! I hate such mysteries.\u201d And she shoots such a glance as would\nonce have been a challenge irresistible. He keeps up the badinage, but\nhe is answering that question, \u201cWhy did she not tell you?\u201d in a manner\nnot flattering to Miss Lennox, but very much so to Miss Lloyd. The\nformer young lady is not quite pleased with his abstracted manner.\nTrue, he dances with her, chats with her, compliments her, but she is\nnot satisfied. She is wishing that this was the first intercourse she\nhas had with Mr. Schuyler, and that he had nothing to remember of\nLizzie Lennox, and no previous knowledge of her--she has an intuitive\nsense that she does not stand as well as her cousin in his estimation,\nand that her chance would have been better if she had never written to\nhim. He, however, generously makes no allusion to that correspondence.\nHe is ashamed of it for her, and heartily wishes it had never been. He\nis thinking how he can make his peace with her cousin, of whom he\nfeels glad to think so well, when he is startled by the words.\n\n\u201cElinor and I are not friends now as we were once--before she became a\nCatholic.\u201d\n\n\u201cMiss Lloyd a Catholic!\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, Mr. Schuyler, did you not know that? All of the family are\nProtestants except her. Her mother was so very liberal as to allow her\nto be educated at a convent of those Sisters of Charity, and this is\nthe result. I have never been intimate with her since.\u201d\n\nMr. Schuyler is very uncomfortably astonished by this information.\nHe has had pleasant thoughts of the possible consequence of his\nreconciliation with Elinor. She has so much risen in his estimation by\nthis solution of the picture mystery and her generous, honorable\nforbearance toward Lizzie, that he is thinking how very pleasant it\nwould be to pass his life with such a companion. She certainly has\nproved herself very trustworthy. But a Catholic! That changes the\naspect of affairs. Does he want a wife of that faith? Would not the\ncoquettish blonde beauty be more desirable? And yet he cannot say that\nthe ways of Miss Lennox altogether please him. He has been willing to\namuse himself by a clandestine correspondence with the unknown beauty,\nbut the known writer of those entertaining epistles does not seem to\nhim just the one to trust with his life\u2019s chance of domestic bliss.\nThe trust is not for just such as she. He really believes no harm of\nLizzie, but he knows a worse man might think worse of her than she\ndeserves. He wishes she were the Catholic and Elinor the Protestant.\nWhy now, for the upholding of all his cherished beliefs and\nprejudices, could not the result of the two different systems of\neducation have been reversed? Surely, he thinks, \u201cPopery would, as a\nrule, have made such a girl as Lizzie rather than one like Elinor.\nAfter all,\u201d he concludes, \u201cthe difference is in their own natures, and\nwould have shown itself had they both had the same training,\u201d and in\nthis we cannot dispute him. But possibly, although Elinor might never\nhave condescended to such a course, Lizzie might with better teaching\nhave been saved from it also. The girl is not evil, only young, weak,\nvain, and she has needed just that which Elinor has had to sustain and\nstrengthen her. Lizzie relies on herself, on her own crude knowledge      800\nof the world, and on just as much advice as she chooses to accept. She\nnever bares her conscience and her soul, as Elinor does, to any one.\nTherefore, she not only robs herself of the counsel of wiser heads,\nbut she never brings upon herself that searching self-examination\nnecessary to the seeing of herself rightly. Had she done that, had she\nbeen forced to look with this introverted gaze upon herself, she would\nhave shrunk from placing herself in this doubtful position. She will\nremember this in after years with a sense of annoyance, if not of any\ndeeper sentiment. And yet her present feeling toward Elinor is one of\nirritation. She knows that Elinor was right in her advice to her, and\nthat she can look down upon her from a more exalted height. The fact\nthat she has not taken airs of superiority on herself has not lessened\nLizzie\u2019s resentment. The feeling that she is on a lower moral plane\nthan that of her Catholic, convent-educated cousin, is a sufficient\ngrievance of itself, and admits to her unregulated mind of no\nextenuation in Elinor\u2019s behalf.\n\nIt is not very easy for Mr. Schuyler to find an opportunity to explain\nto Elinor his enlightenment and change of views. She shuns him so\nsedulously that he begins to think he will have to tell her at the\ntable, in the presence of the family, that he has met her cousin.\nTrue, he could do this without any indelicacy, but he has planned a\nlittle programme of a _t\u00eate-\u00e0-t\u00eate_, which he thinks more pleasant,\nto himself at least, than leaving her to draw her own conclusions from\nsuch meagre information as he can give her in the presence of others.\nMoreover, he does not wish to startle her before others by mentioning\nLizzie\u2019s name--a sore subject to her, he suspects. So he bides his\ntime, although impatiently. If Elinor were like her cousin, he thinks\nhe would not wait so long for opportunity to speak. His man\u2019s nature\nis aroused by the necessity of pursuing.\n\nBut Mr. Schuyler has not made up his mind that he is willing to take a\nCatholic wife. He is at present only desirous of establishing the old\npleasant, friendly footing between Elinor and himself--possibly a more\ntender one; but he will not yet commit himself. Not until he has seen\nhow deeply rooted is her Catholicism--only an ism, it seems to him. He\nis getting impatient, however, at her continued indifference toward\nhim. He sees that he must make his opportunity; and, being a young\ngentleman fertile in expedients, he resorts to waylaying her at the\nhour when her last music lesson is ended for the day.\n\nElinor\u2019s face flushes and her brow contracts--a little indignant flash\nis in her brown eyes as he confronts her. She remembers the last scene\nbetween them at that hour by the piano, and it does not tend to soften\nher manner. Evidently he has got all the work to do, unhelped by her.\nSo he starts off, as is his usual manner, with an abrupt introduction\nof the subject.\n\n\u201cMiss Lloyd, I owe you an apology for declaring that I had your\npicture in my possession. I know now whose picture it is.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou should have known it was not mine, sir, when I told you so,\u201d and\nshe blushes again at the thought of Lizzie\u2019s being known. Even when\nthe blame is lifted from herself, she does not rejoice in her cousin\u2019s\nexposure.\n\n\u201cI did know it, Miss Lloyd; I did believe you, on my soul, against all\nthe wonderful evidence of the remarkable likeness to you. I did believe\nthat picture was not yours, or that at least you did not send me it,      801\nor know of my having it. But how could I know that it was your\nmother\u2019s name in your book?\u201d\n\nHe stops confused. Elinor has never yet known of that added testimony\nagainst her. Had she known it, she would at once have told him it was\nher mother\u2019s name. There was no reason for any mystery concerning\nthat, it being no part of Lizzie\u2019s confidences to her. If he had had\nthat clue, perhaps he might have come to some imperfect glimpse of the\ntruth. In answer to her wondering inquiry, \u201cWhat book?\u201d he says now\nhumbly:\n\n\u201cYou left a book you appeared to own on the piano. I took the liberty\nof looking at it, and read a name in it which I knew belonged to her\nwhose picture I mistook for yours. Your cousin, Miss Lloyd, is very\nlike and very unlike yourself. I met her a short time since at a\nparty; and even seeing her before me, the original of that picture, I\ncould scarcely believe it was those fair locks which the sun made so\ndark in her picture. I may certainly be excused for not remembering\nthis trick of photography, especially when you two are in features so\nvery similar.\u201d He says this last pleadingly, because the displeased\nlook is not gone from her face.\n\n\u201cMr. Schuyler,\u201d she says, \u201cyour mistake concerning that picture was\nmore natural and more excusable than your supposing me the writer of\nthat letter, or the giver of that picture. I think, whatever the\nevidence you may have supposed yourself to possess, my uniform bearing\nand manner toward you should have freed me from any such supposition\non your part. I could not tell you whose picture you had, but I was\nfree to tell you whose name was in my book.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut, Miss Lloyd, even if you had given me the chance to ask you, I\ncould scarcely take upon myself the liberty of seeming to make you\naccountable to myself for any name written in your book. The very\nasking of that would have seemed an accusation.\u201d\n\nElinor\u2019s quick sense of justice sees this readily, and her brow\nclears. Hard as it has been against herself, she admits that it was an\nentanglement for him. So she says more graciously: \u201cWe will let it\npass, Mr. Schuyler. I wish the whole matter for all parties could be\ndisposed of as easily as I can pass out of it.\u201d And she endeavors to\nleave him, with a provoking air of taking no further interest in him\nor his changed footing toward herself. He gently makes a motion of\nbarring her way. She stands waiting to hear what he has further to say\nto her, but there is no evidence of any desire to remain.\n\n\u201cIt is so long since we have spoken together in this friendly fashion,\nthat I think you need not be in such haste to shorten our\nconversation.\u201d\n\nHe says this in such a flattering way, implying that to talk with her\nis the one great delight for him, that her girl\u2019s sense of pleasing\nand being pleased is quickened, but she only toys with the tassel of\nthe curtain near which she is standing, and says nothing.\n\nAgain Mr. Frederick finds he has all the advances to make toward\nconversation, unaided by her.\n\n\u201cMiss Lennox tells me you were educated at a convent. Is that the\nreason you are so shy of me, or is it because I am a Protestant, Miss\nLloyd?\u201d\n\n\u201cMy parents are Protestants, and all my relatives. It would be strange\nfor me to be afraid of a Protestant.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd yet you can be of so very different a faith. May I ask, is it a      802\nmatter of conscience with you, or only one of taste?\u201d\n\n\u201cI do not understand religion being a matter of only taste, Mr.\nSchuyler,\u201d she says simply.\n\n\u201cWhy, don\u2019t you think it is taste, preference only for the gorgeous\nand ceremonial, which makes the Ritualists of St. Alban\u2019s and St.\nMary\u2019s do as they do?\u201d\n\n\u201cI cannot decide upon their motives, Mr. Schuyler. I only know that if\nmy conscience were not in this, I should not separate myself in my\nfaith from that of my family.\u201d She says this with a firm bearing and a\nlofty look at him which abashes him. He begins to suspect that this\nyoung convert _will not_ swerve from her path from any regard for him.\nHe has a full share of conceit, fed by his success with the girls of\nhis acquaintance. He has won their smiles so readily heretofore, and\nhe has pleased and flattered them so easily, that he is piqued at\nmaking no better impression now when he really tries.\n\nAgain Elinor moves to the door. He lets her pass with the words, \u201cWe\nare friends now, are we not?\u201d\n\n\u201cFriends, oh! certainly,\u201d she says, but her tone does not seem so\ndelighted at this change in their relations as he thinks it should be.\n\nThe truth is, Elinor has thought much over Mr. Schuyler\u2019s little\nflirtation with her cousin, and he has not come out from that\ninspection of his conduct with any great credit, in her way of looking\nat it. She thinks that although he may pass unscathed by such\nindulgence, it is not honorable in him to tempt one younger and weaker\nthan himself into such practices. She thinks if Lizzie could find no\none like him to entice her into this folly, she must perforce amuse\nherself in some other way. It seems to her that his motives were bad.\nAnd she suspects that if she would have lent herself to this sort of\nthing, he would have been just as ready to conduct an affair of the\nkind with herself. Her native good sense shows her this, and she is\nthankful for the different example and teaching which has hedged her\nin from ever giving a chance for such a thing. The amount of all this\nis, that the little inclination to like Mr. Fred Schuyler which she\nhad once is now gone, she has no trust in him, and without, trust\nthere can be no abiding love.\n\nTherefore, when, some days after that gentleman overcomes his dislike\nof her religion so far as to absolutely offer his heart, hand, and\nfortune to her, this disdainful Catholic astonishes him with these\nwords:\n\n\u201cI think, Mr. Schuyler, that these protestations are more due to my\ncousin Lizzie than to me. If you speak truth to me, you have spoken\nfalse to her. If it is truth to her, what am I to believe? Mr.\nSchuyler, \u2018I must trust all in all,\u2019 or not at all.\u201d\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n                      OWEN ON SPIRITISM.[159]                             803\n\n\nMr. Owen, though he has since been a member of Congress, and an\nAmerican minister at Naples, was formerly well known in this city as\nassociated with Frances Wright in editing the _Free Enquirer_, as the\nauthor of an infamous work on moral physiology, and as an avowed\natheist. He now claims to be a believer in the existence of God, and\nin the truth of the Christian religion; but his God has no freedom of\naction, being hedged in and bound hand and foot by the laws of nature,\nand his Christianity is a Christianity without Christ, and\nindistinguishable from unmitigated heathenism. How much he has gained\nby his conversion, through the intervention of the spirits, from\natheism to demonism and gross superstition, it is not easy to say,\nthough it is better to believe in the devil, if one does not mistake\nhim for God, than it is to believe in nothing.\n\nMr. Owen makes, as do hundreds of others, a mistake in using the word\n_spiritualism_ for _spiritism_, and spiritual for spirital or\nspiritalistic. Spiritualism is appropriated to designate a system of\nphilosophy opposed to sensism or materialism, and spiritual stands\nopposed to sensual or carnal, and is too holy a term to be applied to\nspirit-rapping, table-tipping, and other antics of the spirits. Mr.\nOwen is unhappy in naming his books. He holds that the universe is\ngoverned by inflexible, immutable, and imperishable physical laws;\nthat all events or manifestations take place by the agency of these\nlaws; that the future is only the continuation and development of the\npresent; and that death is only the throwing off of one\u2019s overcoat,\nand the life after death is the identical life, without any\ninterruption, that we now live. We see not well how he can assert\nanother world, or a debatable land between this world and the next. If\nall things and all events are produced by the agency of natural laws,\nand those laws are universal and unchangeable, we are unable to\nconceive any world above or beyond nature, or any world in any sense\ndistinguishable from the present natural world. His books are\ntherefore decidedly misnamed, and so named as to imply the existence\nof another world and a world after this, which cannot on his\nprinciples be true.\n\nMr. Owen\u2019s first book was mainly intended to establish the fact and to\nshow the character of the spirit-manifestations; in his last work, his\ndesign is to show that these manifestations take place by virtue of\nthe physical law of the universe, that they are of the same nature and\norigin with the Christian miracles, inspiration, and revelation, and\nare simply supplementary to them, or designed to continue, augment,\nand develop them; and to show, especially to Protestants, that, if\nthey mean to make theology a progressive science, and win the victory\nover their enemy the Catholic Church, they must call in the spirits to    804\ntheir aid, and accept and profit by their inspirations and\nrevelations.\n\nThis shows that the author leans to Protestantism, and seeks its\ntriumph over Catholicity; or that he regards Protestantism as offering\na more congenial soil for the seed he would sow than the old church\nwith her hierarchy and infallibility. Certainly, he holds that, as it\nis, Protestantism is losing ground. In 1580 it held the vast majority\nof the people of Europe, but is now only a feeble minority. Even in\nthis country, he says, if Catholics continue to increase for a third\nof a century to come in the same ratio that they have for the last\nthree-fourths of a century, they will have a decided majority. As\nthings now go, the whole world will become Catholic, and the only way\nto prevent it, he thinks, is to accept the aid of the spirits. We are\nnot so sure that this aid would suffice, for Satan, their chief, has\nbeen the fast friend of Protestants ever since he persuaded Luther to\ngive up private Masses, and has done his best for them, and it is\ndifficult to see what more he can do for them than he has hitherto\ndone.\n\nMr. Owen, since he holds the spirit-manifestations take place by a\nnatural law, always operative, and always producing the same effects\nin the same or like favorable circumstances, of course cannot\nrecognize in them anything miraculous or supernatural; and, as he\nholds the alleged Christian miracles, the wonderful things recorded in\nthe Old and New Testaments, are of the same order, and produced by the\nsame agency, he, while freely admitting them as facts, denies their\nmiraculous or supernatural character. He thinks that the circumstances\nwhen these extraordinary events occurred were favorable to\nspirit-manifestations; the age was exceedingly ignorant,\nsuperstitious, and semi-barbarous, and needed new accessions of light\nand truth, and the spirits, through our Lord and his apostles as\nmedium--God forgive us for repeating the blasphemy--made such\nrevelations as that age most needed or could bear or assimilate. This\nage also needs further revelations of truth, especially to enable it\nto throw off the incubus of a fixed, permanent, non-progressive,\ninfallible church, and secure an open field, and a final victory for\nthe rational religion and progressive theology implied in the\nProtestant Reformation. So the spirits once more kindly come to our\nassistance, and reveal to us such further portions of truth as man is\nprepared for and especially needs. Very generous in them.\n\nThis is the doctrine, briefly and faithfully stated, of Mr. Owen\u2019s\n_Debatable Land_, which he sets forth with a charming _na\u00efvet\u00e9_, and\na self-complacency little short of the sublime. There is this to be\nsaid in his favor--the devil speaks better English through him than\nthrough the majority of the mediums he seems compelled to use; yet not\nmuch better sense. But what new light have the spirits shed over the\ngreat problems of life and death, time and eternity, good and evil, or\nwhat new revelations of truth have they made? Here is the author\u2019s\nsummary of their teaching:\n\n     \u201c1. This is a world governed by a God of love and mercy, in which\n     all things work together for good to those who reverently conform\n     to his eternal laws.\n\n     \u201c2. In strictness there is no death. Life continues from the life\n     which now is into that which is to come, even as it continues\n     from one day to another; the sleep which goes by the name of\n     death being but a brief transition-slumber, from which, for the\n     good, the awakening is immeasurably more glorious than is the\n     dawn of earthly morning, the brightest that ever shone. In all       805\n     cases in which life is well-spent, the change which men are wont\n     to call death is God\u2019s last and best gift to his creatures here.\n\n     \u201c3. The earth-phase of life is an essential preparation for the\n     life which is to come. Its appropriate duties and callings cannot\n     be neglected without injury to human welfare and development,\n     both in this world and in the next. Even its enjoyments,\n     temperately accepted, are fit preludes to the happiness of a\n     higher state.\n\n     \u201c4. The phase of life which follows the death-change is, in\n     strictest sense, the supplement of that which precedes it. It has\n     the same variety of avocations, duties, enjoyments,\n     corresponding, in a measure, to those of earth, but far more\n     elevated; and its denizens have the same variety of character and\n     of intelligence; existing, too, as men do here, in a state of\n     progress. Released from bodily earth-clog, their periscope is\n     wider, their perceptions more acute, their spiritual knowledge\n     much greater, their judgment clearer, their progress more rapid,\n     than ours. Vastly wiser and more dispassionate than we, they are\n     still, however, fallible; and they are governed by the same\n     general laws of being, modified only by corporal _disenthralment_,\n     to which they were _subjected_ here.\n\n     \u201c5. Our state here determines our initial state there. The\n     habitual promptings, the pervading impulses, the lifelong\n     yearnings, in a word the moving spirit, or what Swedenborg calls\n     the \u2018ruling loves\u2019 of man--these decide his condition on entering\n     the next world: not the written articles of his creed, nor yet\n     the incidental errors of his life.\n\n     \u201c6. We do not, either by faith or works, _earn_ heaven, nor are\n     we sentenced, on any day of wrath, to hell. In the next world we\n     simply gravitate to the position for which, by life on earth, we\n     have fitted ourselves; and we occupy that position _because_ we\n     are fitted for it.\n\n     \u201c7. There is no instantaneous change of character when we pass\n     from the present phase of life. Our virtues, our vices; our\n     intelligence, our ignorance; our aspirations, our grovellings;\n     our habits, propensities, prejudices even--all pass over with us:\n     modified, doubtless (_but to what extent we know not_), when the\n     spiritual body emerges, divested of its fleshly encumbrance; yet\n     essentially the same as when the death slumber came over us.\n\n     \u201c8. The sufferings there, natural sequents of evil-doing and\n     evil-thinking here, are as various in character and in degree as\n     the enjoyments; but they are mental, not bodily. There is no\n     escape from them, except only, as on earth, by the door of\n     repentance. There as here, sorrow for sin committed and desire\n     for an amended life are the in dispensable conditions-precedent\n     of advancement to a better state of being.\n\n     \u201c9. In the next world love ranks higher than what we call wisdom;\n     being itself the highest wisdom. There deeds of benevolence far\n     outweigh professions of faith. There simple goodness rates above\n     intellectual power. There the humble are exalted. There the meek\n     find their heritage. There the merciful obtain mercy. The better\n     denizens of that world are charitable to frailty, and\n     compassionate to sin far beyond the dwellers in this: they\n     forgive the erring brethren they have left behind them, even to\n     seventy times seven. There, is no respect of persons. There, too,\n     self-righteousness is rebuked and pride brought low.\n\n     \u201c10. A trustful, childlike spirit is the state of mind in which\n     men are most receptive of beneficent spiritual impressions; and\n     such a spirit is the best preparation for entrance into the next\n     world.\n\n     \u201c11. There have always existed intermundane laws, according to\n     which men may occasionally obtain, under certain conditions,\n     revealings from those who have passed to the next world before\n     them. A certain proportion of human beings are more sensitive to\n     spiritual perceptions and influences than their fellows; and it\n     is usually in the presence, or through the medium, of one or more\n     of these, that ultramundane intercourse occurs.\n\n     \u201c12. When the conditions are favorable, and the sensitive through\n     whom the manifestations come is highly gifted, these may supply\n     important materials for thought and valuable rules of conduct.\n     But spiritual phenomena sometimes do much more than this. In\n     their highest phases they furnish proof, strong as that which\n     Christ\u2019s disciples enjoyed--proof addressed to the reason and\n     tangible to the senses--of the reality of another life, better\n     and happier than this, and of which our earthly pilgrimage is\n     but the novitiate. They bring immortality to light under a blaze     806\n     of evidence which outshines, as the sun the stars, all\n     traditional or historical testimonies. For surmise they give us\n     conviction, and assured knowledge for wavering belief.\n\n     \u201c13. The chief motives which induce spirits to communicate with\n     men appear to be--a benevolent desire to convince us, past doubt\n     or denial, that there _is_ a world to come; now and then, the\n     attraction of unpleasant memories, such as murder or suicide;\n     sometimes (in the worldly-minded) the earth-binding influence of\n     cumber and trouble: but, far more frequently, the divine impulse\n     of human affections, seeking the good of the loved ones it has\n     left behind, and, at times, drawn down, perhaps, by their\n     yearning cries.\n\n     \u201c14. Under unfavorable or imperfect conditions, spiritual\n     communications, how honestly reported soever, often prove vapid\n     and valueless; and this chiefly happens when communications are\n     too assiduously sought or continuously persisted in: brief\n     volunteered messages being the most trustworthy. Imprudence,\n     inexperience, supineness, or the idiosyncrasy of the recipient\n     may occasionally result in arbitrary control by spirits of a low\n     order; as men here sometimes yield to the infatuation exerted by\n     evil associates. Or, again, there may be exerted by the inquirer,\n     especially if dogmatic and self-willed, a dominating influence\n     over the medium, so strong as to produce effects that might be\n     readily mistaken for what has been called possession. As a\n     general rule, however, any person of common intelligence and\n     ordinary will can, in either case, cast off such mischievous\n     control: or, if the weak or incautious give way, one who may not\n     improperly be called an exorcist--if possessed of strong magnetic\n     will, moved by benevolence, and it may be aided by prayer, can\n     usually rid, or at least assist to rid, the sensitive from such\n     abnormal influence.\u201d--(_Debatable Land_, pp. 171-176.)\n\nWe have no intention of criticising this creed of the spirits as set\nforth by their learned medium. It is heathen, not Christian, and we\nhave discovered in it nothing new, true or false. It denies the\nessential points of the Christian faith, and what few things it affirms\nthat Christianity denies are affirmed on no trustworthy or sufficient\nauthority. A man must have little knowledge of human nature, and have\nfelt little of the needs, desires, and aspirations of the human soul,\nwho can be satisfied with this spirits-creed. In it all is vague,\nindefinite, and as empty as the shades the heathen imagined to be\nwandering up and down on this side the Styx. But in it we find a\nstatement that dispenses us from the necessity of examining and\nrefuting it. In Article 4 we find it said: \u201cVastly wiser and more\ndispassionate than we, they [the spirits] are still, however,\n_fallible_.\u201d\n\nWhether the spirits are wiser and more dispassionate than we or not\nmay be questioned; they do not seem to be so in the author\u2019s\nillustrative narrations, and the fact that they have undergone no\nessential change by throwing off their overcoat of flesh, and living\nthe same life they lived here, and are in the sphere for which they\nwere fitted before entering the spirit-land, renders the matter\nsomewhat doubtful, to say the least. But it is conceded that they are\n_fallible_. Who or what, then, vouches for the fact that they are not\nthemselves deceived, or that they do not seek to deceive us? By\nacknowledging the fallibility of the spirits, Mr. Owen acknowledges\nthat their testimony, in all cases, when we can have nothing else on\nwhich to rely, is perfectly worthless. We can bring it to no crucial\ntest, and we have no vouchers either for their knowledge or their\nhonesty. Even supposing them to be what they profess to be, which we\nby no means concede, it were sheer credulity to take their word for\nanything not otherwise verifiable.\n\nMr. Owen and all the spiritists tell us that the spirit-manifestations\nprove undeniably the immortality of the soul; but they prove nothing      807\nof the sort. We need, in the first place, no ghost from hell to assure\nus that the immortality of the soul follows necessarily from the\nimmateriality of the soul; for that is demonstrable from reason, and\nwas generally believed by the heathen. What was not believed by the\nheathen, and is not provable by reason, is the Christian doctrine of\nthe resurrection; and this, and supernatural life and immortality, the\nspirits do not even pretend to teach. Look through Mr. Owen\u2019s\nstatement of their teaching, and you will find no hint of the\n\u201cresurrectionem carnis\u201d or \u201cvitam \u00e6ternam\u201d of the apostolic symbol.\nAre we to reject the doctrine of the resurrection of the body, and the\nlife and immortality brought to light through the Gospel--which is\nsomething far different from a simple continuation of the soul\u2019s\nphysical existence--a doctrine so necessary to virtue, and so dear and\nconsoling to the afflicted, on the authority of fallible spirits,\nwhose knowledge or veracity nothing vouches for, and who prove\nthemselves not seldom to be lying spirits?\n\nIn the second place, what proof have we that those rapping or\ntable-tipping spirits are the spirits of men and women once in the\nflesh? Mr. Owen undertakes to establish their identity, but he does\nnot do it and cannot do it; for no proof in the case is possible\nexcept by a miracle, and miracles the author rejects, and declares\nthe argument from them in all cases a _non-sequitur_. The\nspirit-manifestations of which the spiritists make so much, and in\nwhich they fancy they have a new inspiration and revelation, are\nnothing new in history, and are not more frequent now than they have\nbeen at various other epochs. They were more common amongst the\npolished pagan Greeks and Romans than they are in any real or nominally\nChristian nation now. They are nothing new or peculiar to our times.\nTertullian speaks of them, the author of the _Clementine Recognitions_\nwas acquainted with them, and so was St. Augustine. The trance was one\nof the five faculties or states of the soul recognized by the\nNeo-Platonists, and was the principle of the Alexandrine theurgy. The\nchurch has in every age encountered them, been obliged to deal with\nthem, and she has uniformly ascribed them to Satan and his angels. She\nhas had from the first, and still has, her forms of exorcism against\nthem, to cast them out, and relieve those who are troubled by them.\nEvery day she in some locality even now exorcises them, compels them\nto acknowledge the power of the name of Jesus, and sends them back\ndiscomfited to hell.\n\nThe spiritists cannot say the doctrine of the church is impossible or\nprove that it is not true. It certainly is a possible hypothesis, if\nnothing more. Then spiritists cannot say that Satan does not personify\nthe spirits of the departed, or that it is not Satan or some one of\nhis angels that speaks in those pretending to be the spirit of\nWashington, of Jefferson, of Franklin, of Shakespeare, of Milton, of\nByron, or of some near and dear deceased relative? You must prove that\nit is not so, before you can affirm the identity claimed. The great\nTichborne case now before the English courts proves that it is no easy\nmatter to establish one\u2019s own identity even while in the flesh, and it\nmust be much more difficult for a ghost, which is not even visible.\n\nThe spiritists admit that the spirits are fallible; that there are\namong them lying, malevolent spirits. A gentleman with whom we were\nwell acquainted, a firm believer in the spirits, and himself a medium,\nholding frequent communications with them, assured us that he held        808\nthem to be evil spirits, and knew them to be lying spirits. \u201cI asked\nthem,\u201d he said, \u201cat an interview with them, if they could tell me\nwhere my sister then was. \u2018Your sister,\u2019 I was answered, \u2018has some\ntime since entered the spirit-world, and is now in the third circle.\u2019\nIt was false: my sister was alive and well, and I knew it. I told them\nso, and that they lied; and they laughed at me: and then I asked whose\nspirit was speaking with me. I was answered, \u2018Voltaire.\u2019 \u2018That is a\nlie, too, is it not?\u2019 Another laugh, or chuckle rather. \u201cI assure\nyou,\u201d said our friend, \u201cone can place no confidence in what they say.\nIn my intercourse with them, I have found them a pack of liars.\u201d\n\nThis pretension of the spiritists that the spirits that manifest\nthemselves through nervous, sickly, half-crazy mediums, or mediums\nconfessedly in an abnormal or exceptional state, are really spirits\nwho once lived in the flesh, is not sustainable; for they cannot be\nrelied on, and nothing hinders us from holding them to be devils or\nevil demons, personating the spirits of deceased persons, as the\nchurch has always taught us. This, certainly, is very possible, and\nthe character of the manifestations themselves favors such an\ninterpretation; for only devils, and very silly devils too, dealing\nwith very ignorant, superstitious, and credulous people, would mingle\nso much of the ludicrous and ridiculous in their manifestations, as\nthe thumping, knocking, rollicking spirits, tipping over chairs and\ntables, and creating a sort of universal hubbub wherever they come.\nThe spirits of the dead, if permitted at all to communicate with the\nliving for any good purpose, we may well believe, would be permitted\nto do it more quietly, more gravely, and in a more open and direct\nway; it is only the devil or his subjects that would turn all their\ngrave communications into ridicule by their antics or comic\naccompaniments. These considerations, added to the fact that the\nspirits communicate nothing not otherwise known or knowable, that is\nnot demonstrably false, and that they tell us nothing very clear or\ndefinite about the condition of departed souls, nothing but what their\nconsultors are predisposed to believe, convince us that, if they prove\nthe existence of powers in some sense superhuman, they prove nothing\nfor or against the reality of a life after this life. They leave the\nquestion of life and immortality, of good and evil, rewards and\npunishments, heaven and hell, where they were.\n\nMr. Owen places the spirit manifestations, and the Biblical miracles,\nand Christian inspiration and revelation, in the same category,\nattributes them all alike to the agency of the spirits, and thinks he\nhas discovered a way in which one may accept the extraordinary events\nand doings recorded in the Old and New Testaments as historical facts,\nwithout being obliged to recognize them as miracles. This is absurd.\nThe resemblance between the two classes of facts is far less than\nhonest Fluellen\u2019s resemblance of Harry of Monmouth to Alexander of\nMacedon, \u201cThere is a river in Macedon, so is there a river also in\nWales.\u201d The man who can detect any relation between the two classes of\nfacts, but that of dissimilarity and contrast, is the very man to\nbelieve in the spirit-revelations, to mistake evil for good, darkness\nfor light, and the devil for God. We find both classes of facts in the\nNew Testament. The Christian miracles are all marked by an air of\nquiet power. There is no bluster, no rage, no foaming at the mouth,\nno fierceness of look or gesture, no falling, or rending, as in the       809\ncase of the demoniacs; and no rapping, no table-tipping, no antics, no\nstammering, no half-utterances, no convulsions, no disturbance, as in\nthe case of the spirit-manifestations described by Mr. Owen in his\nbooks. In the one case, all is calm and serene, pure and holy; there\nis no effort, no straining, but a simple, normal exercise of power.\nOur Lord rebukes the winds and the waves, and there comes a great\ncalm; he speaks, the leper is cleansed, the blind see, the deaf hear,\nthe lame walk, the dead live. What like this is there in Mr. Owen\u2019s\nghostly or ghastly narratives of trances, thundering noises, and\nhaunted houses? Every one of his narratives shows, so far as it shows\nanything not explicable by simple psychical states and powers, the\nmarks which the church has always regarded as signs of the presence of\nthe devil. Some of the cases he describes are clearly cases of\npossession, and others are as clearly cases of obsession. Unhappily,\nMr. Owen, who formerly believed in no God, now takes, knowingly or\nnot, the devil to be God.\n\nMr. Owen has hardly improved on the heathen Celsus, who was refuted by\nOrigen. Celsus charged the miracles of our Lord to magic. Mr. Owen\nascribes them to necromancy, and regards the apostles and saints each\nas a person with a familiar spirit, or, in the language of the\nspiritists, a medium. The Jews also ascribed the miracles of our Lord\nto the agency of the devil, and charged that it was by Beelzebub, the\nprince of devils, that he did his wonderful works. But there is a\nstriking difference between the Jews and Celsus and our late minister\nto Naples. They sought to prove the satanic origin of the miracles of\nour Lord as a reason for rejecting him and his teaching; he attempts\nto do it as a reason for believing him and reverencing his doctrine\nand character. But they lived in an age of darkness, superstition, and\nsemi-barbarism, and he in an age of light, reason, and civilization,\nand the distance between him and them is the measure of the progress\nthe world has made since their time--a mighty progress indeed, but a\nprogress backward. The Bible tells us all the gods of the heathen were\ndevils, and Mr. Owen agrees and takes the devil for God, and demon\nworship as true divine worship. What the Jews and Celsus falsely\nalleged against our Lord as an objection, he reasserts as a\nrecommendation. He has discovered that evil is good.\n\nThe class of facts which the spiritists call spirit-manifestations are\nrecognized in the Bible from beginning to end, but always as the works\nof the devil or evil spirits, always as works to be condemned and to\nbe avoided; and any communication with those who do them is forbidden.\nNecromancers, or those who consult the spirits of the dead, are\nmentioned and condemned in the Book of Genesis. The Mosaic law\nordained that a witch or a woman with a familiar spirit--that is, a\nmedium, whether a rapping or a clear-seeing, a talking or a writing\nmedium--should not be suffered to live. The church has always\ncondemned everything of the sort, and requires a candidate for baptism\nto renounce the devil and his works, and expels the devil from him by\nher exorcisms, before receiving the postulant to her communion. And\nyet Mr. Owen would have us believe that the Bible and the church\nsanction his doctrine, that the Christian miracles and the\nspirit-manifestations are produced by one and the same agency! Verily,\nMr. Owen throws a strong light on the origin of the great Gentile\napostasy, and shows us how easily men who break from the unity of         810\ndivine tradition, and set up for themselves, can lose sight of God,\nand come step by step to worship the devil in his place. The thing\nseemed incredible, and we had some difficulty in taking the assertion\nof the Holy Scriptures literally, \u201cAll the gods of the gentiles are\ndevils\u201d; but since we see apostasy from the church running the same\ncareer, and actually inaugurating the worship of demons, actually\nexalting the devil above our Lord, the Mystery of Iniquity is\nexplained, and the matter becomes plain and credible.\n\nIt is curious to see what has been the course of thought in the\nProtestant apostasy in regard to the class of facts in question.\nHaving lost the power of exorcism with their loss of the true faith,\nthe Protestant nations had no resource against the invasions of the\nspirits but to carry out the injunction of the Mosaic law, \u201cThou shalt\nnot suffer a witch\u201d--that is, a medium--\u201cto live.\u201d Hence we find their\nannals in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries blackened with\naccounts of the trials and cruel punishments of persons suspected of\nwitchcraft, sorcery, or dealings with the devil, especially in\nEngland, Scotland, and the Anglo-American colonies. Having no\nwell-defined and certain criteria, as the church has, by which to\ndetermine the presence of Satan, many persons, no doubt, were put to\ndeath who were innocent of the offences of which they were accused.\nThis produced a reaction in the public mind against the laws and\nagainst the execution of persons for witchcraft or dealing with the\ndevil. This reaction was followed by a denial of witchcraft, or that\nthe devil had anything to do with matters and things on earth, and a\nshower of ridicule fell on all who believed in anything of the sort.\nThen came the general doubt, and then the denial of the existence of\nthe devil and all infernal spirits, save in human nature itself.\nFinally came the spirit-manifestations, in which Satan is no longer\nregarded as Satan, but is held to be divine, and worshipped as God, by\nthousands and millions.\n\nWe must be excused from entering into any elaborate refutation of Mr.\nOwen\u2019s blasphemous attempt to bring the Christian miracles under the\ngeneral law, as he regards it, of spirit-manifestations. He has proved\nthe reality of no such law, and if he had, the spirit-manifestations\nthemselves would prove nothing more than a gale of wind, a shower of\nrain, a flash of lightning, or the growth of a spire of grass. Could\nwe prove the Christian miracles to be facts in the order of nature, or\nshow them as taking place by a general law, and not by the immediate\nact of God, and therefore no miracles at all, we should deprive them\nof all their importance. The value of the facts is not in their being\nfacts, but in their being miraculous facts, which none but God can\nwork. The author does not understand this, but supposes that he has\nwon a victory for Christianity when he has proved the miracles as\nfacts, but at the same time that they are no miracles.\n\nIt is clear from his pages that the author does not know what\nChristians understand by a miracle. He cites St. Augustine to prove\nthat a miracle is something that may take place by some law of nature\nto us unknown, but St. Augustine, in the passage he cites, is not\nspeaking of miracles at all; he is speaking of portents, prodigies, or\nextraordinary events, which the ignorant, and the superstitious\nascribe to a supernatural agency; but which may, after all, however\nwonderful, be produced by a natural cause, as in our days not a few       811\nbelieve to be the case with the spirit-manifestations themselves, and\nno doubt is the case with most of the wonders the spiritists relate.\nThe devil may work portents or prodigies, but not miracles, because he\nhas no creative power, and can work only with materials created to his\nhand.\n\nIt is necessary also to distinguish between what is simply superhuman\nand what is supernatural. Whatever is creature is in the order of\nnature. Nature embraces the entire creation--whatever exists that is\nnot God or distinguishable from him. Whether the created powers are\nabove man or below him in the scale of existence, they are equally\nnatural, and so is whatever they are capable, as second causes, of\ndoing. The angels in heaven, the very highest as the lowest, are God\u2019s\ncreatures, distinguishable from him, and therefore included in nature.\nThe same must be said of the devils in hell, or the ghosts, if the\nspirits of the departed, and hence whatever they do is within the\nnatural order. The devil is superior, if you will, by nature to\nman--for man is made little lower than the angels, and the devil is an\nangel fallen; he may know many things beyond human intelligence, and\ndo many things beyond the power of man; but what the devil does, is,\nif superhuman, not in any sense supernatural, but as natural as what\nman himself does. We agree with Mr. Owen, though not for the same\nreason, that there is nothing miraculous in the spirit-manifestations,\neven supposing them to be facts, and therefore are of no value in\nrelation to the truth or falsehood of Christianity as a revelation of\nand by the supernatural.\n\nGod alone, and what he does immediately by his direct act and\nimmediate act, is supernatural. God alone can work a miracle, which is\na supernatural effect wrought without any natural medium, law, or\nagency, in or on nature, and is, as far as it goes, a manifestation of\ncreative power.\n\nMiracles do what portents, prodigies, spirit-rappings, etc., do\nnot--they manifest the supernatural, or the existence of a real order\nabove nature. They do not indeed directly prove the truth of the\nChristian mysteries, but they do accredit our Lord as a teacher sent\nfrom God. As Nicodemus said when he came by night to Jesus, \u201cRabbi, we\nknow that thou art come a teacher from God, for no man can do the\nmiracles thou doest, unless God were with him,\u201d God in the miracles\naccredits the teacher, and vouches for the truth of what he in whose\nfavor they are wrought teaches. What our Lord teaches, then, is true.\nIf he teaches that he is perfect God and perfect man in hypostatic\nunion, then he is so, and then is to be believed, on his own word,\nwhatever he teaches, for \u201cit is impossible for God to lie.\u201d The\nfacts, then, are of no importance if not miracles. Hence the\n\u201cnatural-supernaturalism\u201d of the _Sartor Resartus_ is not only a\ncontradiction in terms, but utterly worthless, as are most of the\nadmired utterances of its author, and aid us not in solving a single\nproblem for which revelation is needed.\n\nDeprive us of the prophecies under the Old Law and the miracles under\nthe New, and we should be deprived of all means of proving\nChristianity as a supernatural religion, as supernaturally inspired\nand revealed, and should be reduced, as Mr. Owen is, to naked\nrationalism, or downright demonism. The prodigies of the devil do not\ncarry us above nature. They are indeed Satan\u2019s efforts to counterfeit\ngenuine miracles, but at best they only give us the superhuman for the    812\nsupernatural. If the author could prove the Christian miracles are not\nmiracles, though credible as facts, or if he could bring them into the\ncategory of the spirit-manifestations, he would in effect divest\nChristianity of its supernatural character, and render it all as\nworthless as any man-constructed system of ethics or philosophy. His\nChristianity, as set forth in his pages, has not a trace of the\nChristianity of Christ, and is as little worthy of being called\nChristian as the bald Unitarianism of Channing, or the Deism of\nRousseau, Tom Paine, or Voltaire, or the Free Religion of Emerson,\nHigginson, and Julia Ward Howe.\n\nWhat Mr. Owen regards as a highly important fact, and which he\nurges Protestants to accept as the means of triumphing over the\nCatholic Church, namely, that the Christian miracles and the\nspirit-manifestations are worthy of precisely the same respect and\nconfidence in a Christian point of view, is far less important than he\nin his profound ignorance of Christianity imagines. How far he will be\nsuccessful with Protestants we know not; but his success, we imagine,\nwill be greatest among people of his own class, who, having no settled\nbelief in any religion, who know little of the principles of\nChristianity, are, as all such people are, exceedingly credulous and\nsuperstitious. These people hover on the borders of Protestantism,\nhave certain sympathies with the Reformation, but it would be hardly\njust to call them in the ordinary sense of the term Protestants. Yet\nProtestantism, being substantially a revival in principle of the\nancient Gentile apostasy which led to the worship of the devil in the\nplace of God before our Lord\u2019s advent, there can be no doubt that\nProtestants are peculiarly exposed to Satanic invasions, and there is\nno certainty that they may not follow Mr. Owen back to the\ndevil-worship from which Christianity rescued the nations that\nembraced it. But we have said enough for the present. Perhaps we may\nsay more hereafter.\n\n\n     [159] 1. _The Debatable Land between this World and the\n     Next._ With Illustrative Narratives. By Robert Dale Owen.\n     New York: Carleton & Co. 1872. 16mo, pp. 542.\n\n     2. _Footfalls on the Boundary of Another World._ With\n     Narrative Illustrations. By Robert Dale Owen. Philadelphia:\n     Lippincott & Co. 1860. 16mo, pp. 528.\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n                         THE ANNUNCIATION.\n\n                            MARCH 27TH.\n\n\n          She kneels in prayer--a childlike, virgin form;\n          What purity is mirrored in her eyes!\n          Her dove-like glances, with devotion warm,\n          Are raised in worship, to the midnight skies--\n          But look! a heavenly radiance bright has shone\n          Around the virgin chosen of the Lord;\n          In her rapt prayer she hears the angel\u2019s tone,\n          \u201cHail! full of grace! for lo! upon the word\n          Of thy consent waits now the heavenly dove,\n          Whose wings o\u2019ershadowing thee shall lightly rest\n          One moment on thy pure and humble breast,\n          And make thee by that awful seal of love\n          The mother of thy God!\u201d She bows her head,\n          While _fiat mihi_ in meek tones is said.\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n                             FLEURANGE.                                   813\n\n           BY MRS. CRAVEN, AUTHOR OF \u201cA SISTER\u2019s STORY.\u201d\n\n            TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH, WITH PERMISSION.\n\n                            PART FIRST.\n\n                          THE OLD MANSION.\n\n\n                                 IV.\n\nWhen daylight appeared, Fleurange awoke first, but in a few minutes,\nwhile she was admiring the child still sleeping in her arms, his large\neyes opened in their turn. Their first expression was one of extreme\nsurprise, somewhat mingled with fear, but Fleurange\u2019s look and voice\nsoon had a reassuring effect. His eyes grew smiling, his mouth half\nopened, his little arms stretched towards her and were soon clasped\naround her neck, and the acquaintance was made. During this time the\npale and languid young mother was endeavoring to shake off a heaviness\nmore difficult to overcome than sleep. She slightly blushed and\nmurmured some words of excuse when she perceived her child in the arms\nof the beautiful stranger. But Fleurange protested with an accent of\nindubitable truth that the child did not trouble her in the least. She\nsoon perceived she could be of some service to the poor convalescent.\nThe children, aroused from a long night\u2019s sleep, were now wholly\nawake. Every one knows that children awake, and, confined within a\nnarrow space, soon arrive at a degree of turbulence whose only\nadvantage is to produce lassitude and then sleep. During the first of\nthese two phases, the poor mother made a vain and feeble effort to\nrestrain them. After a few minutes she fell back, not only exhausted,\nbut faint. Fleurange drew near, and began to improvise a pillow for\nher head out of the shawls scattered around. Then she opened the small\nbasket Mademoiselle Josephine had given her, and took out a flask, the\ncontents of which, poured on a handkerchief and applied to the sick\nwoman\u2019s pale face and temples, soon revived her.\n\n\u201cThank you,\u201d she said; \u201cyou have done me a great deal of good. I am\nfeeble, that is all, but I did not suppose myself so much so.\u201d\n\n\u201cDo not exert yourself,\u201d replied Fleurange. \u201cI will take care of the\nchildren.\u201d\n\nThe mother smiled, and touched her head, showing by this gesture how\nfatiguing she found the noise she had not succeeded in quieting. At\nthat very moment, the younger of the two children was standing on the\nseat, trying to reach the net, of painful memory, suspended like the\nsword of Damocles over the travellers\u2019 heads, and which served as a\nreceptacle for everything that could not be stowed away elsewhere.        814\nThe child was not climbing without a motive. His brother had already\nsuccessfully preceded him, and found means of seizing, through the\nmeshes of the net, a small hunting-horn, on which he was now executing\na flourish. Why could not he also get his drum, almost within reach?\nIf he could only stretch a little farther--and he looked at Fleurange\nwith a supplicating air; but the latter, instead of heeding his mute\nappeal, laughingly laid hold of him and drew him on her lap; then\nskilfully bearing off the hunting-horn from the other, she promised to\nrelate them the most charming of stories if they would be quiet. In an\ninstant they were both leaning beside her, and then, in a low tone,\nshe related one story after another, keeping them silent and attentive\ntill the hour of sleep returned.\n\nBy the end of the second day the travellers had made great progress in\ntheir acquaintance. \u201cHow can I thank you sufficiently?\u201d said the young\nmother. \u201cHow fortunate I was to meet you!\u201d\n\n\u201cDo not thank me: your children have done me more good than I can\nreturn.\u201d\n\nThis reply, of course, did not at all diminish the gratitude mingled\nwith admiration with which she had inspired her companion, and as\nthere is only a step from attraction to confidence, the latter soon\nrelated the whole story of her uneventful life to Fleurange. She had\nmet with a severe fall three months before, and her life was despaired\nof; then her husband took her to Paris to consult Dr. Leblanc, who\neffected a cure. Fleurange\u2019s eyes brightened. It was such a\ngratification to be able to talk about her dear old friends!\n\n\u201cHe is so skilful and kind,\u201d she said.\n\n\u201cOh! yes, indeed! he is more than a physician: he is a benefactor, and\nyet I disobeyed him in starting so soon! He said I was still too\nfeeble, which I denied; but I see he was right.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy did you do so?\u201d\n\n\u201cBecause my poor Wilhelm is alone and impatiently awaiting me.\u201d\n\n\u201cYour husband?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes.\u201d\n\n\u201cCould he not have come for you?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo; he is M. Dornthal\u2019s head clerk, and it is very difficult for him\nto leave his post.\u201d\n\nFleurange\u2019s heart gave a leap at this name. \u201cAre you alluding to M.\nLudwig Dornthal?\u201d said she.\n\n\u201cNo; to his brother, the rich banker.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd the other--the professor--do you know him?\u201d\n\n\u201cI have never seen him, but Wilhelm is well acquainted with him, and\nis sometimes invited to the soir\u00e9es he gives. They are not balls--they\nare not fond of dancing there--but r\u00e9unions for conversation, reading,\nmusic, and looking at engravings. Wilhelm says they are all learned,\nthe girls as well as the boys, and madame as much so as her husband.\u201d\n\nFleurange slightly shuddered at this brief communication respecting\nher uncle\u2019s family. She was very fond of study, still more so of the\narts; she had a taste for reading she was often obliged to repress,\nbut this word \u201clearned\u201d she did not find attractive.\n\n\u201cLearned!\u201d she said to herself. \u201cThat means pedantic, grave, and\ntiresome. Well, I must make the best of it. Perhaps that does not\nprevent them from being good, which is the essential point, and I\ncertainly should not aim at amusement in this short life.\u201d\n\nAnother night--another long day now drawing to a close--when lights       815\nmore frequent and bright, and more numerous dwellings, announced the\nvicinity of a large city. As each moment brought them nearer their\ndestination, the joy of the mother and her children became more\nexpansive.\n\n\u201cHe will be waiting for us, will he not?\u201d said the elder of the\nchildren.\n\n\u201cYes, yes, we shall see him as soon as the carriage stops, but that\nwill not be for an hour.\u201d Soon the cry was: \u201cIn half an hour, now!\u201d\nand at last: \u201cHere we are!\u201d\n\nPoor Fleurange listened to her travelling companions, and envied them\nthe certainty of being greeted at their journey\u2019s end by a dear and\nwell-known face. Sadness and a fearful timidity came over her. At\nlast, the carriage stopped. As at their departure, there was a great\nuproar, a variety of cries, and vacillating lights, which illuminated\neverything, but nothing distinctly. Fleurange sought in vain among all\nthe persons who crowded around the carriage, for a face that might be\nher uncle\u2019s. The door opened. A tall man with flowing hair and a long\nblonde beard presented himself. \u201cWas it he?\u201d No, the joyful cries of\nthe children at once informed Fleurange it was their father.\n\n\u201cBertha, Bertha!\u201d he exclaimed, and, even before embracing his\nchildren, he pressed both her hands and looked anxiously in her face.\n\n\u201cYou are very pale, dear Bertha.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is only with joy, Wilhelm,\u201d replied she, weeping. \u201cI am cured, and\nI behold you once more!\u201d\n\nHe then stretched out his arms to his children, but before leaving the\ncarriage they both cried \u201cAdieu! adieu!\u201d in childlike tones and threw\ntheir arms around Fleurange\u2019s neck.\n\n\u201cWilhelm,\u201d said his wife in a low tone, \u201cthank this kind young lady,\nwho has been an angel of goodness to them and to me on the way.\u201d\n\nHe turned with a soft and grateful look toward Fleurange: \u201cMay God\nreward you, fair and gentle maiden,\u201d said he, taking off his hat. Then\nhe added hesitatingly:\n\n\u201cDoubtless some one is waiting for you here, and I cannot have the\npleasure of rendering you any service?\u201d\n\n\u201cI thank you,\u201d said Fleurange quickly. \u201cI am, indeed, expected by my\nrelatives.\u201d While speaking she anxiously cast her eyes around. No one\nseemed to be seeking her in the crowd of unknown faces that surrounded\nher. Was there any mistake? Had they forgotten her? What should she\ndo?\n\nMeanwhile her travelling companions left the carriage, and the happy\ngroup was already at a distance. She followed them with her eyes, her\nheart sinking within her. At that instant a small open carriage, drawn\nby a fine horse, drove swiftly up. In it was a youth of eighteen or\nnineteen years. He threw the reins to some one standing near and\nsprang out. Seeing him, Bertha\u2019s husband took off his hat, and a cap\nis hastily raised in return, displaying an abundance of light hair of\nrather a warm shade. But the new-comer did not stop. He was in a great\nhurry and out of breath. He ran up to the diligence and said\ninquiringly:\n\n\u201cMademoiselle Gabrielle!\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is my name,\u201d said Fleurange, at first struck dumb at hearing\nherself so-called, and especially at the sight of him who had come to\nmeet her.\n\n\u201cVery well,\u201d said he, \u201clet me help you descend.\u201d\n\nFleurange silently prepared to obey, but after another glance at him\nas he held out a firm hand, she said: \u201cThere is no mistake, is there?\nIt is my uncle, M. Ludwig Dornthal, who has sent for me?\u201d\n\nThe only reply she received was an affirmative nod of the head; a         816\nmoment after, a concise order, promptly obeyed, brought down from the\nheights of the imperial the modest luggage belonging to Fleurange. In\nan instant it was fastened behind the light carriage which he\nafterward assisted her in entering, then, carefully and silently\nwrapping around her a large fur cloak which he had brought, he took\nhis seat, and the horse set off, as he came, at a fast trot.\n\nFleurange at first felt giddy with the rapid motion of the carriage,\nbut it soon became agreeable, contrasted with the heavy movements and\nviolent jolting of the diligence. The weather was sharp, but the warm\ncloak that covered her prevented her from feeling it, and, thus\nprotected, the keen air, so far from being unpleasant, gave her, on\nthe contrary, an unaccustomed animation which was like a fresh\ninfusion of youth and life. The sky above was sparkling with stars. It\nwas one of those brilliant winter nights which we love to imagine like\nthat which witnessed the coming of Christ, and saw angels hovering\nover the heights that surround Bethlehem, to convey the glad tidings\nto the shepherds, and sing on earth their divine hymn.\n\nIn about twenty minutes the horse slackened his pace a little, and the\nyoung coachman turned around and seemed to make some attempt at an\nexplanation which Fleurange tried her best to comprehend, but the\nrattling over the pavements rendered this nearly impossible, and she\nonly seized the words \u201cMy father\u201d and \u201c_Christ Kindchen!_\u201d after which\nhis head, turned around for an instant, resumed its former position,\nand the horse his usual pace.\n\nBut Fleurange gathered from this that the youth was one of M.\nDornthal\u2019s sons, and her uncle had not been able to meet her for some\nreason connected with the festival of the following day. Her first\nimpression was that her cousin\u2019s manners were rather abrupt, and his\nface somewhat peculiar, but on the whole he had shown himself very\nefficient and attentive. As for his skill in driving it was\nunrivalled, the reins could not have been in better hands.\n\nAfter this short interruption, they kept on their way without\nslackening an instant, notwithstanding more than one turn through the\nwinding streets, and at length arrived at a place planted with trees,\nwhere the carriage stopped before a flight of steps leading to an\noaken door adorned with a massive brass knocker.\n\nSome one was evidently watching for them, for the door instantly flew\nopen. Fleurange caught the glimpse of a bright light and many forms!\nHer cousin hastened to aid her in alighting. Confused voices were\naudible, all having a cordial accent of welcome. A strong hand\nsupported Fleurange as she ascended the six stone steps and entered\nthe passage. A tall woman dressed in gray, and wearing a cap trimmed\nwith flowers, approached and embraced her. \u201cIt is my turn now!\u201d said a\ndeep and sonorous voice, \u201cfor I am her uncle.\u201d Fleurange raised her\neyes toward a noble countenance which had too young a look to be\ncrowned with such white hair, and her uncle embraced her, murmuring in\na softened tone the name of Margaret. Beside him stood a lovely young\ngirl, grave and blonde, while another, fair as her sister but younger,\ndivested Fleurange of the heavy fur cloak and untied her bonnet. A boy\nof seven years ran out into the street to aid his brother, and a\nlittle girl of four or five clung to her mother\u2019s skirts, looking\ncuriously, but with delight, at the strange visitor.\n\nFleurange, dazzled by the lights, and confused by the very cordiality     817\nof her reception, was incapable of uttering a word, but her large\neyes, full of tears, were more expressive than any words, and the\nunusual brilliancy of her complexion, owing to the keen night air, and\nher long tresses falling over her shoulders when her bonnet was\nremoved, gave her an unusually striking appearance which would have\nconciliated the most malevolent. How, then, must she have been\nregarded by those so ready to welcome her heartily?\n\nThey led her, triumphantly, as it were, into a spacious drawing-room\nwhich was still more dazzling. In the centre of the apartment stood a\ntree brilliantly illuminated and hung with toys, flowers, jewels, and\nfruit of all kinds. Two chandeliers added their light to that of the\nilluminated tree, under one of which half a dozen children were\ngathered around a table loaded with cakes. Several young ladies, as\nwell as others who were older, were grouped here and there.\n\nIn short, Fleurange suddenly found herself, and for the first time in\nher life, in the midst of what seemed to her a very brilliant reunion,\nin which all the faces, even those of her hosts, were strange. The\nleast timid would have been disconcerted, and Fleurange was completely\nabashed. The lady in gray with a cap trimmed with flowers, whom she\nsupposed to be her aunt, took her by the hand, and hastily led her\nback into the passage, and thence into a small parlor lighted by a\nsingle lamp. In crossing the hall, they met Fleurange\u2019s young guide.\n\n\u201cIs she ill? Does she need anything?\u201d he asked in a kind and eager\ntone.\n\n\u201cYes, she needs rest,\u201d and with this reply Madame Dornthal shut the\ndoor in her son\u2019s face.\n\nFleurange sat down and breathed more freely. Hitherto she had been\nunable not only to utter a word, but even to collect her thoughts.\nNow, thanks to the quiet room, she at once grew calm, and in a few\nminutes felt quite recovered. She was young and vigorous. She had\nscarcely felt the fatigue of the journey, and it was not in her nature\nto yield long to emotion and embarrassment, especially when in the\ndepths of her heart she felt so happy! Had not a single glance, quick\nas a flash, sufficed to dissipate the burden which weighed on her\nheart, and to light it up with a transport of joy and hope? Her\nuncle\u2019s voice, the words he murmured as he embraced her, \u201cO Margaret,\nis it you?\u201d gave her a thrill; then the soft glances of those fair\nyoung girls, the sight of the children gathered under the\nChristmas-tree, even the abrupt attentions of her young cousin--all\ngave her a delicious sensation of safety, an assurance of protection\nwhich in her moments of desolation she had desired more than joy or\nhappiness.\n\nShe raised her head, and looked at her aunt, who stood silently\nregarding her. The latter was decidedly ugly--astonishingly so, yet\neven before she spoke or smiled there was an expression more desirable\nthan beauty visibly imprinted on her face, otherwise devoid of all\ncharm--an expression of intelligence and kindness.\n\n\u201cRemain here perfectly quiet, will you?\u201d said Madame Dornthal,\n_tutoyant_ Fleurange as if she had known her from childhood.[160]\n\n\u201cThere, look at the clock; a quarter of an hour will be sufficient. Do\nnot try to talk, only listen to me. You are at home, you must             818\nunderstand: remember that. No thanks are necessary. You are one of our\nchildren. We had five: now we have six. It was Clement, my oldest son,\nwho went to meet you, because his father could not leave the children\nthis evening. You saw Hilda and Clara at your arrival, as well as the\ntwo little ones, Fritz and Frida, who were also there to receive you.\nThere is Gabrielle besides: that is all. Your uncle has mourned so\nmuch for his poor sister Margaret! Now he has found her again, it is a\nhappy day for us all!\u201d\n\nFleurange quietly wiped away her tears without replying. Just then\nsome one knocked at the door.\n\n\u201cWho is there?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is I.\u201d\n\nIt was Clement with a cup of coffee, which, at her aunt\u2019s injunction,\nFleurange drank with docility.\n\n\u201cWill you now go up to your room for the night, or will you return to\nthe drawing-room among the others?\u201d\n\nFleurange replied without any hesitation: \u201cI prefer to go back to the\ndrawing-room and see them all, at once.\u201d\n\nA pleasant smile lighted up Madame Dornthal\u2019s face. \u201cI like you very\nmuch, Gabrielle, not because you are handsome, that has nothing to do\nwith it; I should love you quite as much were it otherwise; but\nbecause there is so much simplicity about you--which is quite to my\ntaste. Now, let me see: it is eleven o\u2019clock, our friends are going to\ntake their children home, and our youngest are going to bed. As to the\nrest of us, we shall presently go to the Midnight Mass, and not sup\ntill our return. Make your own choice--to follow the children\u2019s\nexample, or go with us.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! with you, with you!\u201d cried Fleurange. \u201cPray, take me to church;\nI am neither feeble nor fatigued.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd yet you are fatigued,\u201d replied Madame Dornthal, \u201conly you do not\nyet feel it. But as it will do you no harm, you shall do as you wish.\nSo save your strength, and do not return now to the drawing-room. You\ncan remain here and wait for me.\u201d\n\nShe left the room, and Fleurange remained where she was, happy to obey\nsuch kind orders without any resistance. Five minutes after, the door\nopened. It was Clement again, holding his little brother by the hand,\nand carrying his young sister in his arms.\n\n\u201cFritz and Frida wish to bid you good-night,\u201d he said. The little boy\ntimidly approached. Fleurange immediately spoke to him in that\nlanguage which all children understand, and which can only be learned\nand spoken by those who love them: he was speedily reassured. She then\ntook Frida, and kissed her blue eyes, which, while looking at her with\nsurprise, began to close. When she gave the child back to her brother,\nshe was asleep, and he bore her away without awakening her, holding\nher with an ease that showed how accustomed he was to the care. His\nlittle brother followed him out of the room.\n\nHalf an hour of silent repose succeeded this interruption. It was more\nbeneficial to Fleurange than sleep, which strong excitement kept her\nfrom feeling the need of. At the end of that time, Madame Dornthal\nreappeared with her two daughters. Clement and his father were waiting\nfor them in the passage. They set off by starlight on foot, for the\nchurch was near. They were all silent and thoughtful, for the\nchildren\u2019s festival had not made them forgetful of the solemnity of\nthis great night.\n\nIn church, once more in church, Fleurange felt, as she knelt down,        819\nthat her overburdened heart could now find relief, and when solemn,\nharmonious, and accordant voices made the magnificent arches resound\nwith unearthly chants, which seemed to be the spontaneous expression\nof universal prayer, the young girl bowed her head still lower: all\nthe joy and gratitude of her heart overflowed in sweet tears and\nfervent prayers of thanksgiving. When Mass was over, one voice, which\nsurpassed the rest--a voice sweet and manly--intoned beside her the\nPsalm _Laudate Dominum_. She involuntarily joined in the strain, and\nthe two voices seemed for an instant to form but one.\n\nWhen she turned around, she saw that this singer was her cousin,\nClement Dornthal.\n\n\n                                 V.\n\nWhen a friendly hand aids a shipwrecked traveller in reaching the\nshore, his first impulse is to express his boundless gratitude. Rest\nis sweet, even on the sand, to him who has just escaped the perils of\nthe ocean; but if he finds no place of refuge on the shore, if his\nonly hope of an asylum is the vague glimmer of some distant beacon, he\nis tempted to doubt his strength to reach the half-seen light, and if\nit will really prove a haven. Such had been the mixture of gratitude\nand apprehension the poor orphan felt the day she accepted from\nMademoiselle Josephine the hospitality of the blue chamber, and it did\nnot leave her the whole time of her stay in that first harbor of\nsafety. But to-day, roused from her slumbers by the merry Christmas\nchimes, her first thought was: \u201cThank God, I have arrived at port\u201d;\nand she rose from her spacious couch eager to begin her new life. She\nbegan the day by writing to Mademoiselle Josephine. Her old friend\nmust be informed of her happiness before she could enter upon its\nenjoyment. It seemed only a debt of gratitude to share with her all\nher new and pleasing impressions. She also wrote to Madre Maddalena:\nshe must without any delay link all the friends and joys of the past\nwith her present happiness and truly transformed life.\n\nHer aunt, in assuring her the previous evening she was among her\nown--that is, at home--seemed to have constituted her, as by magic, a\nchild of the house. Everything around her was new and somewhat\nstrange, but everything pleased her as if naturally conformed to her\ntastes; and yet the walls of her room, hung with sombre colors, the\nold press of carved wood, which easily contained her limited wardrobe,\nthe high-backed chairs ranged around, the antique bureau in one\ncorner, and in the other a great monumental stove, the spectral aspect\nof which alone was surprising--all this might easily have offended an\neye accustomed to the smiling magnificence of Italy, but not an object\nin the house seemed capable of imparting any sad impressions. The word\nwelcome appeared inscribed on every side, as on all faces, and in this\nsweet atmosphere she instinctively felt that the material comfort was\nonly a type of the mental freedom much more necessary than the other\nto the happiness of life.\n\n\u201cYou must not dress in black today, Gabrielle,\u201d said her two fair\ncousins, as they entered her chamber for the third time since she rose\nan hour before, bearing a basket which contained garments similar to      820\ntheir own.\n\n\u201cWhy not?\u201d said Fleurange, somewhat astonished.\n\n\u201cDo you not know that, in Germany, mourning is laid aside on great\nfestivals?\u201d replied Clara, the younger of the two. \u201cYou must dress\nlike us to-day, as you will always do when the time for this sad\nmourning is over.\u201d\n\nThe elder of the two sisters noticed that her cousin made no reply:\nshe approached her and said affectionately:\n\n\u201cExcuse Clara if she has distressed you. She is so gay and happy\nherself, that she cannot comprehend misfortune and sadness.\u201d\n\n\u201cI do not wish to remind her of them to-day,\u201d said Fleurange, \u201cand\nwill do as she requests. But you, dear Hilda,\u201d continued she--looking\nwith admiration at her cousin\u2019s golden locks and grave brow, which a\nqueen\u2019s diadem would have suited, or the aureola of a saint--\u201care you\nnot as gay and happy as your sister?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, as happy,\u201d said Hilda, \u201cbut not as gay.\u201d\n\nAfter some explanations, Fleurange conformed to her cousins\u2019 wishes.\nBut when, before dinner, the beautiful Hilda, clothed in white,\nbrought a garland like that she wore herself and wished to place it on\nher head, she objected: \u201cAs to this garland, Hilda, you must excuse me\nfrom wearing it.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy so?\u201d\n\n\u201cBecause I have never worn any ornament of the kind: because, after\nall, I cannot and do not wish to forget I am a poor orphan, who should\nnot dream of adorning herself, or mingling in the world.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut, Gabrielle, you must know we only adorn ourselves to celebrate at home\nthe great annual festivals, and we never mingle in the world.\u201d\n\n\u201cNever? But then, why wear flowers without any reason?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is not without a reason. My father likes us to wear the flowers of\nthe season at every feast. This poor wreath you have refused,\nGabrielle, look at it: it is, like mine, of holly, reflecting the\nbrightness of Christmas, with its shining leaves and berries red as\ncoral. There, see if it is not becoming in your raven hair?\u201d As she\nspoke, Hilda held the wreath over her cousin\u2019s head: at that instant\nClara appeared, and hesitation was no longer possible. She instantly\ntook her sister\u2019s place: the bright leaves and red berries were placed\nlike a crown on Fleurange\u2019s brow, who laughed and only made a feeble\nresistance, while the mirror reflected the forms of the three young\ngirls--as graceful a picture as ever haunted an artist\u2019s dreams.\n\n\u201cThere,\u201d cried Clara, \u201cyou are both beautiful--one fair as the day and\nthe other brilliant as night. And I,\u201d continued she, arranging her\nlong curls, among which holly leaves were also twined--\u201clet me see\nwhat I resemble myself.\u201d\n\n\u201cA flower, a star, dear Clara: everything that is best worth gazing at\nby day or night,\u201d said Fleurange affectionately.\n\nShe preferred the elder of the two sisters, but there was an\nirresistible grace about the other, whom she could not help caressing\nwith her eyes and tones, as if she were a child.\n\n\u201cAh! that is charming, poetic, and very applicable! Thank you, Cousin\nGabrielle. I will presently ask our poet to divine my emblems. We\nshall see if he agrees with you.\u201d\n\n\u201cIf our poet is in a fit of abstraction, you must ask some one else\nwho certainly will not be,\u201d said Hilda.\n\nClara blushed. \u201cCome, come!\u201d said she, \u201clet us talk no longer about       821\nme, but go down. There is Frida coming for us. They have doubtless all\narrived.\u201d And taking her little sister by the hand, she ran off,\nscarcely touching the massive balustrade as she flew down the stairs.\n\n\u201cYou did not tell me you were expecting visitors,\u201d said Fleurange.\n\n\u201cOnly some friends and relatives. Since my Uncle Heinrich lost his\nwife, he and his son have taken their Christmas dinner with us. The\nfamily formerly assembled at his house. You are going to make his\nacquaintance, and that of our fine cousin Felix. The rest are our\nfriends, and will soon be yours.\u201d Hilda paused. \u201cYou doubtless know\nthat Hansfelt is my father\u2019s friend, and was the companion of his\nyouth?\u201d she continued at length.\n\n\u201cHansfelt!\u201d exclaimed Fleurange. \u201cWhat! Karl Hansfelt, the great\npoet?\u201d\n\nWe have already remarked that Fleurange perfectly understood her\nmother\u2019s native tongue. The poems of the person just mentioned were\nsufficiently celebrated at that time for her to be familiar with them,\nand even know some of them by heart.\n\n\u201cAnd he is your friend? And shall I see him?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d replied Hilda, \u201cyou will see him often. And you will also see,\u201d\nshe added, as if eager to change the subject, \u201ca young artist who is\nbeginnings be quite popular. His name is Julian Steinberg, and he is a\nfriend of Overbeck\u2019s. I will leave Clara to introduce him to you.\u201d A\nsignificant smile accompanied the last words, and Fleurange,\ncomprehending, or nearly so, the state of affairs, descended with her\ncousin into the large drawing-room, which, as well as the dining-room,\nwas on the ground floor.\n\nThe house M. Ludwig Dornthal inhabited is probably no longer standing.\nModern improvements have swept away, one by one, those old houses in\nall our cities to which time had given an aspect too much at variance\nwith the tastes and requirements of a new generation. Even at the\nperiod in which our story opens--that is, in 1824--the house of which\nwe are speaking already began to be pointed out as the _Old\nMansion_--the name, _par excellence_, by which it was known in the\ncity. But, as it was spacious and commodious, its situation quiet and\nretired, and it had a large garden which all the windows on one side\noverlooked, it was admirably adapted to the professor\u2019s studious\nhabits. The picturesque color it had acquired with age was also quite\nto his taste, and, above all, as it was here Ludwig Dornthal passed\nthe first years of his married life, and where his children were born,\nnothing in the world would have induced him to leave it, and on this\npoint they were all agreed. The Old Mansion was dear to those who\ninhabited it, as well as to all who frequented it, and every one, like\nFleurange, uttered more or less fervently these words, which are\nalways vainly repeated in this world when our faculties are all for an\ninstant in a state of happy equilibrium: \u201cIt is good for us to be\nhere: let us set up our tabernacle, and here remain.\u201d This impression,\nit may be supposed, was not wholly owing to the exterior aspect of the\nOld Mansion. There was a harmony between it and its occupants; and,\nwith various results, this effect is produced almost everywhere.\nInanimate objects seem to imbibe and communicate something of the life\nthat passes around them, and this language, though silent, is, to\nthose who heed it, a source of genuine revelation.\n\nWhen Fleurange entered the drawing-room, she perceived her Uncle          822\nLudwig was rather impatiently awaiting her, for the moment she\nappeared he advanced, and, taking her by the hand, led her to the\nother end of the apartment, where stood a gentleman whose features\nbore some resemblance to his own; but with so different an expression,\nthat the likeness, which at first was apparent, grew less and less as\nthe two brothers were better known.\n\n\u201cThis is our sister Margaret\u2019s daughter,\u201d said Ludwig to the banker.\n\u201cShe is doubly your niece now, for I have adopted her as my child.\u201d\n\nM. Heinrich Dornthal bowed and cordially embraced the young girl, but\nhe could not resist saying: \u201cAnother daughter, when you have three\nalready, is a great addition.\u201d\n\nThis cool and unpleasant remark disconcerted Fleurange, and she had\nnot recovered from her painful sensation of embarrassment when a young\nman of rather a fine figure approached and offered her his arm.\nFleurange looked at him with an air of astonishment. She had never\nbeen to a large dinner-party, and knew nothing of the usages common to\nall countries on such an occasion. She slightly retreated, and,\nopening her large eyes, said: \u201cWho are you, monsieur, and where do you\nwish to conduct me?\u201d\n\nThis question and movement caused a general smile around her, in which\nshe saw her Uncle Ludwig join, and with that simplicity which was her\ngreatest charm she began to laugh herself, and so innocently, that he\nwho had involuntarily caused this little scene exclaimed half aloud:\n\u201cThis is truly the most charming piece of rusticity I ever met with;\u201d\nand then, bowing to her with mock gravity, and an air at once gallant\nand bantering, he said:\n\n\u201cMademoiselle, my name is Felix Dornthal: I have the honor of being\nyour cousin, and I offer you my arm to conduct you to the dining-room;\nbut I acknowledge there would have been more propriety in first making\nus acquainted with each other.\u201d\n\nFleurange, blushing and smiling, accepted the arm offered her, and,\nonce seated at table beside this new cousin, and freed from the\nembarrassment of this little incident, she looked around and began to\nenjoy her novel position.\n\nWas it really her own self, who recently felt so isolated? She who had\nstood face to face with want and abandonment? Could she be the same\nperson now, surrounded by numerous relatives, a member of a large\nfamily, feeling herself beloved by all, and loving all in return--yes,\nall, excepting the cousin seated beside her, who caused her\ninvoluntary confusion; and yet he had just said some words to her in\nItalian, pronounced with so pure an accent that she experienced a\nlively sensation of surprise and joy, for Italy was her native\nland--her own country almost, left only a few months previous for the\nfirst time. But her cousin\u2019s words embodied a compliment to which she\ndid not know how to reply, and when she raised her eyes toward him she\nmet a look that disconcerted her still more. She therefore only\nuttered a few words in return, and then silently resumed her\nexamination of the company, beginning with her Uncle Ludwig. As to\nhim, she thought she had never seen a nobler and sweeter face. It was\nimpossible not to be struck by the contrast in this respect between\nhim and his wife, which must have been even more striking in their\nyouth than now. While she was dwelling on this thought, she met her\naunt\u2019s eye resting on her for a moment, and saw her smile. That look      823\nand smile seemed to answer her, and give a clue to the mystery, for\nthey revealed the traits that constitute the indestructible bond of\ngenuine sympathy. Beauty adds nothing to such characteristics, or at\nleast only a charm the heart disregards, and which even the eye soon\nceases to dwell on, for they who are capable of loving a soul soon\nlove the form, whatever it may be, in which it is clothed.\n\nThe only one of the children who had not inherited the beauty of the\nDornthals was Clement, who looked more like his mother than the rest.\nHe had the same ugliness and the same smile, and yet, as he was tall,\nslender, active, and robust, his form, without being elegant, was not\ndevoid of grace, and when his thick hair was thrown back, the shape of\nhis forehead gave a marked character to his face, and his look was, in\nflashes, expressive, decided, and intelligent. It was astonishing,\ntherefore, to find young Dornthal so apparently incapable of\nself-assertion: the more so because he possessed great aptitude for\nthe arts and sciences, and as a student he stood in the highest rank.\nBut it seemed to be an effort for him to converse, and he was so\nabsolutely silent in the drawing-room that his friends habitually\navoided speaking to him. Elsewhere it was different. His father found\nit difficult to conceal the secret preference he felt for his eldest\nson, and the affectionate pride with which he regarded him was\nmanifest in his looks on all occasions, in spite of himself. And\nClement\u2019s mother showed a confidence in him almost strange,\nconsidering his youth, and often seemed more disposed to consult than\ndirect him. As to his brothers and sisters, they idolized him and were\nconstantly recurring to him; he had a remedy for every difficulty, a\nmeans for every end, and nothing exhausted his patience. In spite of\nthis, as we have said, he scarcely attracted any attention in company.\nWe can therefore understand why Fleurange, in continuing her\ninspection, did not stop long to consider her cousin, but, on the\ncontrary, directed all her attention to a person at his side whose\nface was singularly remarkable. He was a man about fifty years old,\nperhaps older, for his bald head, gray beard, and pale face, marked by\nsickness, showed he was no longer young. But a something indefinable\nattracted attention, and induced people to inquire his name, and the\nname seemed so much in harmony with his countenance that, when known,\nit was not unusual to hear the exclamation: \u201cSo had I pictured him to\nmyself.\u201d Such, in fact, was that of Fleurange when, in reply to her\nquestion, her cousin Felix told her his name was Hansfelt.\n\n\u201cKarl Hansfelt!\u201d she repeated for the second time; \u201cis it he?--what!\nis that he?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, my fair cousin, he himself,\u201d replied Felix in a mocking tone.\n\u201cIn truth, I ought to consider myself fortunate in having at length\nfound a subject of conversation that can interest you, but I did not\nthink of being under obligations to old Hansfelt!\u201d\n\n\u201cBut is it not natural to regard a celebrated man with interest, and\none so justly celebrated as he?\u201d said she, turning her eyes once more\ntoward her cousin. But she lowered them immediately, for the look\nfastened on her was more displeasing than any she had yet met--a look\nexpressing at once impertinent admiration and entire want of kindness.\nShe wished, nevertheless, to continue the conversation, and timidly\nsaid: \u201cNo one can deny that he is a poet whose name is familiar to        824\nevery one, and whose songs are in every memory.\u201d\n\n\u201cAs for me,\u201d replied Felix Dornthal, \u201cI am not fond of rhymsters; this\none is particularly disagreeable to me; and his approaching departure\ndoes not at all afflict me.\u201d\n\n\u201cIs he going away?\u201d said Fleurange.\n\n\u201cYes, it seems he has been offered a place at the court of ----, I\nhardly know what position, but one that will allow him to fully\ngratify his taste for old books, and at the same time--a thing by no\nmeans to be disdained, even by a poet--give him ample means of\nlivelihood. He has suffered sweet violence, and in a short time we\nshall be deprived of the honor of receiving him within our walls--for\never deprived, it seems, for the kind prince, who is taking him away,\ninsists on his not quitting his post.\u201d\n\nFleurange made no reply: her glance had just fallen on her cousin\nHilda, who was sufficiently near to hear the conversation, but not\nenough so to be able to take any part in it. She saw her suddenly\nstoop down to pick up a flower just fallen from her hand, and when she\nrose up there was a lively color in her face. This was a natural\nconsequence of the movement she had just made, but what was less so\nwas the paleness which gradually succeeded, and the trembling of her\nhand when she endeavored to raise a glass of water to her lips.\nFleurange was observing this with a vague uneasiness, when her\nattention was suddenly called away by a question her Uncle Ludwig\naddressed to a young man seated at Clara\u2019s side.\n\nThis question led to a reply which momentarily deprived Fleurange of\nthe power of thinking of anything else.\n\n\u201cSteinberg,\u201d the professor said, \u201clook at my niece, and tell me if you\ncan see the resemblance spoken of.\u201d\n\nThe young artist turned toward Fleurange, and looked at her with an\nattention that, till now, had been exclusively absorbed by his fair\nneighbor. All at once he exclaimed: \u201cYes, certainly; I remember, and I\nsee Count George was right. That is truly _Cordelia_ herself before\nus!\u201d\n\nEvery eye was turned toward Fleurange, and it was her turn to blush.\nBut why did she thus tremble from head to foot? What were the mingled\nremembrances, sweet and poignant, that were suddenly recalled by the\nname of _Cordelia_? Of course it was natural that she should be\naffected by hearing her father\u2019s last work mentioned--that picture\nconnected with so many painful associations. On the other hand, it was\nthat same picture which enabled her uncle to find her, and now,\nappreciating more than ever the extent of this happiness, it was\nperhaps natural that the name of her unknown benefactor, suddenly\npronounced in her presence, should inspire this lively and\ninexpressible emotion--but was this all?\n\nHowever that might be, she remained the rest of the evening troubled\nand absorbed in the same thought. She had not, then, been deceived. It\nwas really the stranger she had seen in the studio who now owned the\npicture, for he not only knew she served her father as a model, but\nsaid the likeness was perfect. And his name was Count George! Count?\nThen he was a man of high rank? What was his other name? Where did he\nreside? And was he still in this city?\n\nFleurange wished to give utterance to these questions, but an\ninvincible embarrassment restrained her, and the evening passed without   825\nbeing able to bring the conversation back to this subject. This\ncuriosity aroused, but only imperfectly satisfied, left a kind of\nuneasiness which she reproached herself for as a fault and a want of\ngratitude, when, before falling asleep that night, she recalled all\nthat had signalized the day when for the first time she celebrated in\nthe midst of her own relatives the great and memorable festival of\nChristmas.\n\n\n                                 VI.\n\nFour months had passed away, and spring had returned. It was now the\neve of Clara\u2019s marriage and Hansfelt\u2019s departure, and these two events\ndiversely preoccupied all who lived in the Old Mansion. Fleurange was\nleaning over her balcony, allowing her thoughts to wander at will, but\nthis reverie was by no means melancholy. She felt very happy in spite\nof the ideas which vaguely crossed her mind at times, like phantoms\nshe could not grasp. The vernal air caressed her cheeks, and the sun\ngaily lighted up the old furniture in her chamber. She looked\ncomplacently around, and gave herself Up to a sweet and overpowering\nsensation of comfort. All at once, without any apparent cause, without\nany particular reason for this new impression, a piercing and bitter\nthought replaced all these delicious reveries: \u201cIf I had to leave this\nplace for ever, as I have left all the others!\u201d she said to herself\nwith sudden anguish, and for some moments she could not repress the\nfearful thought. She covered her eyes with her hand, and endeavored to\nshake off the kind of nightmare which had seized her. She was still in\nthis attitude when she heard a voice under her balcony, the sound of\nwhich was more disagreeable to her than any other.\n\n\u201cIf I were a poet,\u201d said the voice, \u201cor if I only knew some of their\neffusions, it would be a suitable time to quote Shakespeare:\n\n     \u2018Oh! that I were a glove upon that hand!\u2019\n\nand so forth. Prompt me, Clement: I know Italian well, but very little\nEnglish.\u201d\n\nThese words were addressed to her by her cousin Felix Dornthal, who\nwas in the garden with Clement, and had stopped beneath her balcony.\nThe latter had his head cast down, but Felix, as usual, gazed at her\nwith the admiration he had displayed from the very, first day--which\nwas the only disagreeable and annoying thing she had known beneath her\nuncle\u2019s roof. But then, she seldom saw Felix. The company that\nassembled two or three times a month in the professor\u2019s drawing-room\nwas not much to the taste of his nephew, and if he had come oftener\nsince Fleurange\u2019s arrival, he seldom had an opportunity of conversing\nwith her, for she avoided him with a care in proportion to the\nincreasing aversion she felt for him. Felix had, nevertheless, all the\nadvantage a fine figure and the manners of the world confer, with\nsufficient knowledge on various subjects to appear well-informed, and\ncoolness and assurance enough to direct a conversation so as to shine\nin it. It might, therefore, seem surprising that he inspired such a\ndegree of antipathy, especially when, for the first time in his life,\nhe seriously endeavored to produce the contrary impression.\n\nSympathy and antipathy are in part instinctive and uncontrollable, and\nsometimes they are wholly inexplicable. They are both experienced\nwithout always knowing the cause, and sometimes, later, they are          826\ntransformed and modified to such a degree as to efface the first\nimpulse they inspired. Perhaps it would not be impossible to prove\nthat upright souls are less rarely deceived in this respect than\nothers. However it may be, and independent of this instinctive\nrepulsion, the antipathy Fleurange felt was owing, among other good\nreasons, to the constant irony which was so strong an ingredient in\nFelix\u2019s nature, as to wither every feeling of kindly impulse or flow\nof reason around him. Goodness found no attraction in his nature, and\nthose who conversed with him almost ceased to believe in it\nthemselves. He had not discernment enough to see that Fleurange was\none of those persons who may be wounded by a compliment as well as by\nan insult, and more than one flash of her large eyes was necessary to\nmake him comprehend it. And when he suddenly stopped, his silence\nexcited anxiety to know the cause of his sudden preoccupation and what\nsombre cloud enwrapped him. Some insinuated with a nod of the head\nthat M. Heinrich Dornthal\u2019s only son should yield with more reserve to\nhis love for play, and his father had repeatedly remonstrated with him\non this point. But as, apart from his whims and irregularities, Felix\nhad a remarkable capacity for commercial affairs, the banker was\nblindly indulgent to him, and often remarked that being \u201cperfectly\nsatisfied, and sure of his son in matters of _serious_ import\n(meaning thereby his aptitude for business), he did not trouble\nhimself much about the rest, and only patiently awaited the epoch when\nthe marriage of his choice would lead him back to a more regular\nlife.\u201d\n\nIt should be added that, for several months, the health of the head\nof the Dornthal family had, without his acknowledging it, been\nseriously declining. The greater part of the business formerly done by\nhimself was now transacted by his son, and his confidence, or his\nweakness, in this respect, increased to a degree unsuspected by any\nbut him who was its object. The banker occasionally felt, with a\nreturn of his former cautiousness, some anxiety on this point, but\nFelix knew how to reassure him by a few words, and he now felt only\none desire, which grew stronger and stronger--to see his son married,\nand settled down to a life of greater conformity with the importance\nof the affairs he could transact so skilfully, and to which he had\nonly to give his undivided attention. He could have wished him to\nchoose one of his two cousins, but Felix did not find them to his\ntaste, and often declared that it would not be within the walls of the\nOld Mansion he should find her to whom he would sacrifice his\nindependence. But after Fleurange entered them he suddenly changed his\ntone, and his ill-concealed admiration now directed toward her all the\nbanker\u2019s matrimonial hopes respecting his son.\n\nWe left Felix beneath his cousin\u2019s balcony, his riding-whip in hand:\n\u201cAway with poetry, which is not in my line,\u201d he soon said, \u201cand deign\nto listen, fair cousin, to the petition I am about to address you in\nhumble prose.\u201d\n\nFleurange, still leaning on the balcony, replied: \u201cI am listening.\u201d\n\n\u201cSee what a lovely spring day! My horse stands yonder: will you not\nhave yours saddled, and allow me to ride in your company?\u201d\n\nFleurange drew herself up with an air of surprise, and shook her head\nwithout otherwise answering.\n\n\u201cNo?\u201d said Felix.\n\n\u201cNo, certainly not. How could you think of such a thing? And what claim   827\nhave you to become my mentor?\u201d\n\n\u201cYour mentor!\u201d repeated Felix with a frown. \u201cI am your cousin, that is\nall. Clement often has the honor of accompanying you in this way, and\nI should have a share in his privileges.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are mistaken,\u201d said Fleurange tranquilly: \u201cClement is my brother,\nand you are not.\u201d\n\nThe smile habitual to Felix--a smile at once impertinent and\nsatirical, hovered on his lips:\n\n\u201cAssuredly not,\u201d he said; \u201cthat is a title I am by no means ambitious\nof, and am far from claiming of you.\u201d\n\nFleurange blushed, and made no reply, but, at a sign from her cousins\nwho were in the room, she almost immediately left the balcony and went\ndown into the garden.\n\nClement remained motionless during the preceding dialogue, with his\nhead bent down, making flourishes on the sand with the stick in his\nhand.\n\n\u201cHer brother!\u201d repeated Felix in a mocking tone, as soon as Fleurange\ndisappeared. \u201cWell, I have no reason to be offended. She looks upon\nyou as a boy, that is quite clear. It is for you to complain, if this\ndoes not suit you.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt does suit me, on the contrary;\u201d said Clement in a decided tone. \u201cI\naccept the title she gives me, and I know, when occasion requires it,\nhow to fulfil the obligations it imposes, and when to claim my\nrights.\u201d\n\n\u201cRights! What rights?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe right, certainly, of protecting her! You see, boy as I am, she\nhas conferred it on me. It is one which I will never surrender, and\nwould quite willingly maintain against you, Felix, if necessary.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat source of inspiration have you drawn from to-day, my fine\nscholar? You are not generally so fluent. Indeed, if you were only a\nfew years older, I should imagine the large gray eyes of our fair,\ndisdainful cousin had fascinated you in your turn.\u201d\n\nClement did not look up; he neither blushed nor was vexed.\n\n\u201cFelix,\u201d said he, \u201cI am only nineteen years old, it is true, and you\nare ten years older; but I have one advantage which the younger does\nnot generally possess: you do not know me. But I,\u201d continued he,\nlooking him full in the face, \u201cas you are aware, I know you well.\u201d\n\nAt these words a black look came over Felix\u2019s face, he bit his lips,\nand would perhaps have made some angry reply had not the three girls\nappeared at the end of the alley. At the sight of them Felix abruptly\nturned around, and, leaping on his horse, galloped off, slightly\nwaving his hand to Julian Steinberg, whom he met at the garden gate.\n\nFleurange and her two cousins approached to meet Clara\u2019s betrothed. \u201cI\nam late,\u201d said he to Clara, \u201cbut you must not think it is my fault. I\nhave been detained by an unexpected meeting. Count George is here.\u201d\n\n\u201cCount George de Walden?\u201d said Clement, \u201cthe same one who visited the\ngallery about a year ago?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe very one,\u201d replied Julian; \u201cand it was he who showed us the\nbeautiful Cordelia that resembles you so much, mademoiselle,\u201d he\nadded, turning to Fleurange.\n\n\u201cAnd the source of our good luck in finding her,\u201d said Hilda.\n\n\u201cBut, since he has seen you, Gabrielle,\u201d said Clara, \u201cyou must know\nhim.\u201d\n\nFleurange, strangely surprised, moved, and confused, nevertheless\nreplied in a tolerably calm tone: \u201cI did not know who purchased the\npicture until I came here.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut,\u201d persisted Clara, \u201cyou saw him, however?\u201d                           828\n\n\u201cYes, once, but without speaking to him.\u201d\n\n\u201cIn that case, you must remember him, for Julian pretends his face is\nthe most remarkable one he ever saw.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, his features are not only fine,\u201d said Julian, \u201cbut there is in\nhis physiognomy and his whole appearance something--something--\u201d\n\n\u201cStriking and noble,\u201d said Clement.\n\n\u201cYes, that is true.\u201d\n\n\u201cAssuredly,\u201d replied Julian; \u201cbut that is not all. There is something\nextraordinary about him--how shall I express it? heroic--yes, that is\nthe word, he looks like a hero.\u201d\n\n\u201cOf romance?\u201d said Clara.\n\n\u201cNo, of history: if I had to paint a celebrated soldier, or the leader\nof some famous exploit, I should choose him for the original.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd then, he is a great lover of art,\u201d said Clement.\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d responded Julian, \u201che seems, indeed, gifted in every way.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd is he going to remain here?\u201d said Clara.\n\n\u201cUnfortunately he will not, for in that case he would be at our\nwedding, but he is obliged to go to St. Petersburg without any delay.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat! is he a Russian?\u201d said Clara.\n\n\u201cNo, not wholly.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat do you mean by that?\u201d\n\n\u201cI mean he is a Livonian or a native of Courland, I do not know\nexactly which. But he is one of the emperor\u2019s subjects, and cannot\ntrifle with his orders, which obliged him to leave Florence suddenly,\nwhere he was, and now forces him to keep swiftly on his way.\u201d\n\nThe conversation took another turn, of which Fleurange did not hear a\nword. As soon as she had an excuse for leaving her cousins, she\nreturned to her chamber, where she took a small note-book from her\npocket, and carefully inscribed therein the name of Count George de\nWalden.\n\n\n     [160] The use of the second person singular, indicative of\n     familiarity in most European languages, has not been\n     retained in this translation.\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n                    THE MARTYRDOM OF ST. AGNES.\n\n                   \u201cSancta Agnes! ora pro nobis.\u201d\n\n\n                             Calm she stood,\n     An ivory statue, yet instinct with life,\n     So stately was that gently breathing form\n     Of grace and dignity so perfect, yet\n     With all youth\u2019s pliant softness.\n\n                             On her brow,\n     White as the ocean pearl when first the waves\n     Complaining cast their treasure on the shore,\n     Was stamped the seal of that creating hand\n     Whose spirit dwelt within that temple rare,\n     Her holy virgin heart; and from her eyes,\n     Soul-lit, beamed forth the splendor and the depth\n     Of that informing mind whose lights they were,\n     Until you heeded not their violet hues,\n     Their lashes long, or nobly arching brows.                           829\n     Her flossy hair was colored like the sun,\n     Her cheeks were opal-tinted, like the hues\n     Of rosy sunset mingled with the pure\n     Soft paly whiteness of the maiden moon.\n     Her mouth was a pomegranate-flower, with all\n     Its crimson sweetness, and her rounded chin,\n     Love\u2019s finger touching, had impressed therein\n     A lovely dimple, thus completing well\n     The virgin beauty of that angel face.\n\n     A young and princely Roman knight drew near,\n     And bent upon the noble maid his glance,\n     Wherein the fire of earthly passion blazed,\n     Yet tempered by a tear of pity born.\n     \u201cAgnes! my Agnes!\u201d in a suppliant voice\n     He spake; \u201cOh! dost thou shun my clasping arms,\n     And rather choose this grim and ghastly death,\n     To dower with all thy charms? Oh! let me place\n     Upon that fairest hand this spousal ring,\n     Pledge of our future nuptials; then shall all\n     This dark and bloody pageantry of death,\n     The axe, the block, the gloomy lictors, all\n     Pass from thy sight for ever. Agnes! speak!\u201d\n\n     The virgin answered not nor seemed to hear,\n     Her eyes in raptured trance raised to the skies,\n     Till from her parted lips in angel tones\n     Low murmuring music broke: \u201cO thou my Lord!\n     Jesus! my Spouse! my All! my only Love!\n     Am I not thine alone? upon my brow\n     Hast thou not left thy signet? on this hand\n     Hast thou not placed thy ring, the golden ring,\n     Of our divine espousals heavenly pledge?\n     Come, O my Love! I long to view thy face,\n     Come, take thine Agnes to thine own embrace;\n     For ever with the Lord!\u201d The thrilling tones\n     Lapsed into silence. On the lictors all,\n     She smiled--a heavenly smile; and then she knelt,\n     Bowing her gentle head upon the block,\n     Her golden tresses, parted for the blow,\n     Swept the dry sand so soon to drink her blood.\n\n     An instant, and the dazzling gleam of steel\n     Flashed through the air; it fell, and rose again--\n     All--all was o\u2019er; e\u2019en then the virgin bride\n     Stood on the sea of glass before her Lord.\n     The martyred virgin bride, crowned by his hand\n     With palms of triumph, and the lilies white,\n     Meet emblems of her purity and faith.\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n                     CATHOLICITY AND PANTHEISM.                           830\n\n                             NO. XIII.\n\n              THE COSMOS IN TIME AND SPACE--CONTINUED.\n\n\nIn the preceding article, we have seen that, in consequence of the\nsacramental extension of the Theanthropos in time and space,\nsubstantial creation in its highest and noblest element, which is\npersonality, has received its last initial and inchoative perfection\nof being, by the union of human persons with the Theanthropos by means\nof his substantial and sacramental presence, and through that union\nthe elevation to a higher similitude of and communication with the\nthree persons of the infinite. Now, this last complement of the\ncosmos, this union of the Theanthropos, with human persons, through\nhis sacramental extension in time and space, constitutes the Catholic\nChurch, which may be defined to be:\n\n_The Theanthropos present in the cosmos through the sacraments, and\nthrough them incorporating into himself human persons in time and\nspace, raising them to a higher similitude of and communication with\nthe three personalities of the infinite, and thus not only realizing\nthe highest initial perfection of the cosmos, but also unfolding and\ndeveloping that initial perfection, and bringing it to its ultimate\ncompletion in palingenesia._\n\nThe Theanthropos, therefore, has placed himself in the very centre of\nthe cosmos by his sacramental and substantial presence, as became his\ngreat office and prerogative of mediator. By those moments of his\nsacramental presence to which he has only attached his infinite energy\nand power, he disposes and fits human persons for the real\nincorporation into himself in the following manner: By the sacramental\nmoment of order, through the moral instrument in whom this moment is\nrealized, he propounds and explains his doctrine, the _gnosis_\nrespecting God, and the cosmos which he came to reveal to men. By the\nsacramental moment of regeneration, he infuses into human persons the\nterm of the supernatural order in its essence and faculties, and thus\nraises them to a higher state of being, and to a closer communication\nwith the Trinity, but all this in an initial and inchoative state. By\nthe sacramental moment, called confirmation, he brings that essence\nand its faculties to a definite and determinate growth. When human\npersons are thus fitted and prepared, he by his substantial presence\nincorporates them into himself, and enables their supernatural being\nto live and develop itself by being put in real, actual communication\nwith all the proper objects of its faculties. Thus, the cosmos of\npersonalities, perfected in its initial supernatural state, can act\nand develop itself--the Theanthropos himself, through his moral\nagents, organically constituted, governing and directing its action to\nthe safest and speediest acquirement of its last perfection.\n\nFrom this metaphysical idea of the church, derived and resulting from     831\nits very essence, it follows:\n\nFirst, That, next to the Theanthropos, the Catholic Church is the end\nof all the exterior works of the infinite. The supreme end of the\nexterior works was the highest possible communication of the infinite\nto the finite. This was primarily realized in the hypostatic union\nwhich bound all created natures to the infinite, and is realized next\nin the union of all personalities with the Theanthropos, and through\nhim with the Trinity. Now, the very essence of the Catholic Church\nconsists in this union. Consequently, as such it is the _last supreme\nimperative_ law of the cosmos. The last, because with it closes the\ncycle of the creative act, and begins the cycle of the return of the\nterms to their principle and cause. Supreme, because no higher initial\nperfection of the cosmos can be realized after supposing its\nexistence. Imperative, because it is a necessary complement of the\nplan of the cosmos.\n\nHence, without the Catholic Church the cosmos of personalities would\nhave no aim or object. It would stand alone, and unconnected with the\nother parts of the cosmos, the particular end of each personality\ncould never be attained, and the whole would present a confused mass\nof elements, without order, harmony, or completion.\n\nIt follows, in the second place, that the Catholic Church is fashioned\nafter the hypostatic moment, and is its most lively representation.\nFor as that moment implies the bringing together of a human and divine\nelement, finite and infinite, absolute and relative, necessary and\ncontingent, independent and subject, visible and invisible, in the\nunity of one divine personality, so the Catholic Church is the result\nof a double element, one human, the other divine; one visible, the\nother invisible; one finite, the other infinite; one necessary, the\nother contingent; one immutable, the other variable; the one\nindependent and authoritative, the other subject and dependent, in the\nunion of the Theanthropos with the sacramental element. This union of\nthe Theanthropos with the sacramental element, both moral and\nphysical, is, as we have said, the very essence of the Catholic\nChurch, and which endows it with that double series of attributes and\nperfections, one belonging to God, the other essentially belonging to\nthe finite, but which are brought together in one being in force of\nthat union; and all the difficulties brought against the church hinge\nupon that very thing--the sacramental union of all the divine\nattributes of the Theanthropos with the finite attributes of the\nsacramental element. All those who object to all or some of the\nTheanthropic attributes of the church object to the possibility and\nexistence of that union.\n\nBut that union, as the last supreme imperative law of the cosmos, is\nsuch a strict consequence of the plan, is so connected and linked with\nall the other moments of God\u2019s action _ad extra_, depends so entirely\nupon the identical principle which originates the others, that once we\ndeny it we are obliged to yield up all the other truths, and take\nrefuge in nihilism, and proclaim the death of our intelligence. For\nonce we admit the impossibility of the union of the attributes or\nsubstance of the Theanthropos with the sacramental element, on the\nplea that the attributes of each are opposite and contradictory, for\nthe self-same reason we must admit the impossibility of the union of\nthe Word of God with the human nature, and sweep the hypostatic moment\nclean away; because, if it is impossible to bring together opposite       832\nattributes in one sacramental being, it is much more impossible, so to\nspeak, to bring not only attributes but two natures quite opposite\ntogether, into one subsistence and personality, and entirely exchange\nattribution and names, and call man God, and God man, and attribute\nexclusively divine acts to human nature, and _vice versa_. But, having\ndenied the hypostatic moment in consequence of that pretended\nimpossibility, we cannot logically stop here. We must generalize the\nquestion, and deny all possible union between the finite and the\ninfinite. For what can there be more opposite and more contradictory\nthan these terms, absolute and relative, necessary and contingent,\nimmense and limited, eternal and successive, immutable and changeable,\nuniversal and particular, self-existing and made, infinite and finite?\nAnd could they possibly be brought together into any kind of union?\nNay, we must go further, and deny the very coexistence of both terms,\nbecause one certainly seems to exclude the other--the universal being,\nfor instance, including all possible being, must necessarily imply the\nimpossibility of the coexistence of any particular, circumscribed,\nlimited being. Arrived at this, we must conclude that all finite\nthings which come under our observation, not being able to coexist\nwith the universal being, must be only modifications and developments\nof that same, and throw ourselves into pantheism. But once pantheism\nis admitted, we must, to be logical, suppose the existence of a\nuniversal something impelled by an interior instinct of nature to\nunfold and develop itself by a succession of efforts, one more\ndistinct, marked, and perfect than the other. Now, taking this\nsubstance at one determinate stage of development, and going backward,\nfrom a more perfect development to one less perfect, and from this to\none still less perfect, we must necessarily arrive at the most\nindeterminate, indefinite, abstract _something_, at the idea-being of\nHegel--that is, at nihilism.\n\nNihilism is consequently the logical product of the denial of the\nunion of the infinite attributes of the Theanthropos with the\nsacramental element, the very essence of the Catholic Church. _The\nCatholic Church, therefore--or nihilism._\n\nAnd we beg the reader to observe that this logical conclusion which we\nhave drawn is simply the history of the errors of the last three\nhundred years, and consequently our conclusions receive all the\nsupport which the gradual unfolding of error for three hundred years\nis able to afford.\n\nThe impossibility of the union of the infinite attributes and\nsubstantial presence of the Theanthropos in the sacramental element\nwas proclaimed in the sixteenth century by Protestantism, when on one\nside it denied the authority and infallibility of the church, and\nconsequently denied the union of these Theanthropic attributes with\nthe moral instrument, the hierarchy, and on the other side denied the\nreal presence, and thus refused to allow a union of the substance of\nthe Theanthropos with the sacramental elements of bread and wine. It\ndid not then see the full meaning of its denial, but yet established\nthe principle of the impossibility of the union of the Theanthropos in\naction or substance with the sacramental elements. Deism followed,\nand, making the Protestant principle its own, added a logical\napplication to it, and asked: How can the uncreated, infinite, and\nabsolute being be united to a nature created, finite, and relative?\nor, in other words: How could the finite and the infinite be united so    833\nas to form the God-man? And then, like Protestantism, in reference to\nsacramental union, not being able to conceive that possibility, deism\ndenied the hypostatic moment. But the question did not stop here.\nPantheism followed, and, being gifted with as much logical acumen as\ndeism, generalized the question, and asked: How can the finite coexist\nwith the infinite, which comprehends all? And not being able to see\nthe possibility of such coexistence, it refused all existence to the\nfinite, and admitted the identity of all things and the unity of\nsubstance, allowing the finite no other existence but one ephemeral\nand phenomenal. This was the pantheism of Spinoza and others. But\nHegel, with more acumen than all the rest, saw clearly that it was\nimpossible to admit an _infinite_ substance subject to modification\nand development, unless it was supposed to be, previously to any\ndevelopment, altogether abstract, and shorn of all determination and\nconcreteness, among which determinations must be ranked existence\nalso; because development implies limit, definiteness, determination,\ncircumscription; hence, that primitive something could not be supposed\ninfinite, except it was shorn of everything, even existence.\nConsequently, he proclaimed nihilism as the principle of all things.\nAnd nihilism, and along with it the death of the intelligence, we\nrepeat, must be admitted, or the Catholic Church--all truth or no\ntruth.\n\nWe conclude: Deny the Catholic Church, or the union of the attributes\nand substance of the Theanthropos with the sacramental elements,\nbecause those opposite things cannot be brought together, and you must\ndeny the union between human nature and the eternal Word for the same\nreason. Deny the hypostatic moment, and you must deny every kind of\nunion between the finite and the infinite for the same identical\nreason, and you must deny the very coexistence of the finite and the\ninfinite, and throw yourself into pantheism.\n\nWe defy any one to find a flaw in the logical connection of these\nconclusions, or to prove that we have misstated the genesis and\ndevelopment of error for the last three hundred years.\n\nFrom the essence of the Catholic Church, it follows that she is\nnecessarily divided into two moments--the active moment, and the\npassive moment.\n\nThe first is the Theanthropos acting through his moral instruments,\nproposing and expounding to all human persons, in time and space, the\n_gnosis_ of the whole cosmos, in its cause, term, effect, and\ndestiny, actualizing through the same moral instruments all the other\nsacramental moments in human persons, and through the same moral\ninstruments governing and directing the whole elevated cosmos. This\nmoment is called in theological language _ecclesia docens_, or teaching\nchurch. The second are all human persons to whom the doctrine is\ntaught, and who are the recipients of all the sacraments and the\nsubjects of the government of the church. This moment is called\n_ecclesia audiens_, or hearing church.\n\nThe first is essentially active, the other passive; the one\ncommunicates, the other receives--though some members, in different\nrelations, belong to the one or the other.\n\nThough in demonstrating the essence of the Catholic Church, as we\nflatter ourselves, quite in a novel aspect, we have at the same time\ndemonstrated all the Theanthropic attributes belonging to and resulting\nfrom that essence, yet, for the sake of those who cannot see all the      834\nconsequences included in a general principle, we shall dilate at some\nlength upon all the essential attributes of the church, and those\ncharacteristic marks which constitute her what she is, and point her\nout from any other body pretending to the same name.\n\nThe first attribute, which evidently emanates from the essence of the\nchurch, is its externation, and capacity of coming under the\nobservation of men. For, if the essence of the church consists in\nbeing the Theanthropos, incorporating his power, as well as his\nsubstantial presence, in physical as well as personal instruments, and\nthrough them incorporating all human persons unto himself, who can\nfail to perceive that church must be visible, outward, able to come\nunder the observation of men, in that double relation of sacramental\nextension of Christ and of having men as objects of incorporation with\nhim?\n\nAn invisible church would imply a denial of any sacramental agency,\nand would be absolutely unfit for men, who are _incarnate_ spirits.\nHence, those sects which hold that the saints alone belong to the\nchurch have not the least idea of its essence. Holiness being\naltogether a spiritual and invisible quality, the saints could not\nknow each other, nor, consequently, hold any communication with each\nother; the sinners could not find out where the saints are to be heard\nof; and therefore there could not be any possibility of discovering\nthe church or any moral obligation of joining it.\n\nThe next attribute essentially belonging to the church is its\n_permanence_, in theological language called indefectibility, which\nimplies not only duration in time and space, but also _immutability_\nin all its essential elements, attributes, and rights. The church must\ncontinue to be, as long as the cosmos lasts, whole and entire in all\ntime and space, in the perfect enjoyment of all its attributes,\ncharacteristic marks, and rights.\n\nThe reason of this attribute is so evident and palpable that we are at\na loss to understand how it could enter men\u2019s minds that the church\ncould and did fail or change in its essential elements. When\nProtestantism, to cloak over its rebellion in breaking loose from\nallegiance to the church of the living God, alleged as reason that it\nhad failed and changed in its essential elements--when Protestantism\nrepeats daily the same assertion, it exposed and exposes itself to an\nabsurdity at which the merest tyro in logic would laugh. It is one of\nthe first axioms of ontology that the essences of things are immutable\nand eternal: immutable, inasmuch as they can never change; eternal,\ninasmuch as they must be conceived as possible from eternity, whether\nthey have any subjective existence or not. Essences are like number.\nAdd to it, or subtract from it, and you can never have the same\nnumber; likewise add to the essence of a thing, or subtract from it,\nand you may have another thing, but never the same essence.\n\nNow, what is the essence of the church? It consists in the\nTheanthropos incorporating his infinite power and his substantial\npresence in physical and personal instruments, and through them\nuniting to himself human persons, elevating them to a supernatural\nstate, and enabling them to develop and unfold their supernatural\nfaculties until they arrive at their ultimate perfection, and all this\nin time and space.\n\nNow, how can we suppose the church to fail when its very essence is\nfounded on the union of the Theanthropos with the sacraments? The only    835\npossible failure we can suppose is if the presence of the Theanthropos\nwere to be withdrawn from the sacraments; and this could happen either\nbecause the Theanthropos may be supposed powerless to continue that\npresence or unwilling; in both cases, the divinity of the Theanthropos\nis denied; because the first would argue want of power, the second a\nsenseless change. Protestantism would do much better to deny at once\nthe divinity of its founder, instead of admitting the failure of the\nchurch he founded. It would be by far more honest and logical. We can\nrespect error when it is logical and consistent, but we must despise\nobstinate nonsense and absurdity. The same attribute is claimed by the\nend of the church--which is, to communicate to human persons in time\nand space the term of the supernatural moment. As long, then, as there\nare men on earth, so long must the church continue to possess\ninvariable and unchangeable those elements with which it was endowed\nby its divine founder. Should it fail or change, how could men after\nthe failure be incorporated into the Theanthropos? Should it fail or\nchange, how could men believe in the possibility of their attaining\ntheir end? Should it fail once and at one period only, men would no\nlonger possess any means of knowing when, and how, and where it might\nnot fail again, and therefore they could not but look upon the whole\nthing with utter contempt.\n\nThe next attribute is infallibility.\n\nCertainty objectively considered is the impossibility of error in a\ngiven case. Infallibility also, considered in itself, is the\nimpossibility of error in every case within the sphere to which that\ninfallibility extends. This attribute is essentially necessary to the\nchurch, but before we enter upon its vindication we will say a word\nabout its nature, the subject in whom it resides, the object it\nembraces, and the mode of exercising it. The nature of the\ninfallibility claimed by the church does not consist in a new\ninspiration: because inspiration implies an interior revelation of an\nidea not previously revealed or known. Now, this does not occur, and\nis not necessary, in order that the church may fulfil its office. The\nrevelation of the whole _gnosis_ respecting God, the cosmos, and their\nmutual relations in time and in eternity, was made by the Theanthropos\nin the beginning. The church carries it in her mind, heart, and life,\nas she traverses centuries and generations. But as all the particular\nprinciples constituting that _gnosis_ are not all distinctly and\nexplicitly formulated and set in human language, so it becomes the\noffice of the church from time to time to formulate one of those\nprinciples. In this she is assisted by the Theanthropos in such a\nmanner that she may infallibly express her mind in the new formula she\nutters. Again, an error may arise against the revealed gnosis she\ncarries in her mind. Then it is her office to proclaim what her mind\nis upon the subject, and condemn whatever may be contrary to it.\nAgain, she is assisted by the Theanthropos in such a manner as to\neffect both these things infallibly. Infallibility in the present\ncase, therefore, may be defined a permanent assistance of the\nTheanthropos preserving the church from falling into error in the\nexercise of her office.\n\nThe object of this attribute is limited to these three:\n\n1. She is infallible in teaching and defining all theoretical\ndoctrines contained in the revelation, be it written or not, but\nhanded down socially from the beginning.\n\n2. In all doctrines having reference to morality.                         836\n\n3. In the choice and determination of the external means of embodying\nthat doctrine, theoretical or practical; whether the external means\nwhich embodies the doctrine be used by the church, or, used by others,\nmust be judged by the church.\n\nThis last object of infallibility is so absolutely necessary that\nwithout it the other two would become nugatory and fictitious. If, in\npropounding a doctrine, the church could err in fixing upon such\nobjective expressions of language as would infallibly exhibit her\nmind, men could never be assured whether the church had expressed\nherself correctly or not, and could never, consequently, be certain of\nher meaning. Likewise, if the church could err in teaching whether\nsuch and such expression of language, intended to embody a doctrine,\ncontains an error or a truth, men would be left in doubt whether to\nembrace or reject it, and could never, in embracing it, be absolutely\ncertain whether they were holding a revealed doctrine or a falsehood.\n\nFrom this it follows that: First, the church is not infallible in\nthings belonging exclusively to natural sciences, and in no way\nconnected with revelation; second, she is not infallible in reference\nto historical facts, and much less in reference to personal facts,\nunless these are connected with dogma. The subjects in whom this\nattribute resides are the following:\n\n1. The Supreme Pontiff, the head of the hierarchy, who, independent of\nthe rest, enjoys this attribute, in reference to all the objects above\nexplained. Because, by the interior organism of the church, as we\nshall see, he is made the source of all authority in teaching and\ngoverning.\n\n2. The hierarchy, together with the Supreme Pontiff, either assembled\nin council or agreeing through other means of communication.\n\nWe almost blush to have to remark that this, infallibility, centred in\nthe Pope or bishops, does not render them personally impeccable. The\ntwo things are as distant as the poles, and can only be brought\ntogether and confounded in minds who, according to the expression of\nDante, have lost the light of the intellect, and live in a darkness\nwhich is little short of death.\n\nThe modes of exercising this attribute are three:\n\nShe is infallible as teacher, as witness, and as judge.\n\nAs teacher: when she proclaims and expounds to the faithful the\nrevelation of the Theanthropos.\n\nAs witness: when she affirms what belongs or does not belong to that\nrevelation.\n\nAs judge: when she pronounces final judgment on controversies and\ndisputes which arise in relation to revealed doctrines.\n\nHaving thus given a brief idea of all that belongs to the subject of\ninfallibility, it seems to us that no one who has understood the\nnature and essence of the church, and the object for which it was\nestablished, can fail to perceive not only the entire reasonableness,\nbut also the absolute necessity of such a doctrine.\n\nWe have said that the church in its active element is nothing less\nthan the Theanthropos himself, communicating the term of the\nsupernatural moment, which includes teaching, through the agency of\nsecondary agents, both physical and personal. The church, therefore,\nunder the aspect from which we are now regarding her, is the\nTheanthropos teaching his revelation, expounding his revelation,\naffirming and witnessing to his revelation, declaring what agrees\nwith it, and what is contradictory to it, through the agency of the       837\nSupreme Pontiff, or of the Pontiff and the rest of the hierarchy. And\ncan anything be more reasonable than the assertion that she is\ninfallible? Protestantism has boasted, and boasts yet, of having\nemancipated reason, of having brought it to the highest possible\ndegree of culture and development. But when will Protestantism begin\nto exercise its vaunted reason?\n\nIs it reasonable to suppose that the Theanthropos, the God made man,\nthe infallible wisdom of God, the very intelligibility of the Father,\nwho established the church, that is, united himself, either as to\naction or substance, with a sacramental element, be it material or\npersonal, in order, among other things, to teach all men in time and\nspace what was absolutely necessary for them to know to attain their\nultimate perfection--is it reasonable to suppose, we say, that the\nTheanthropos should, through his personal agents, teach anything but\nabsolute truth?\n\nDeny the divinity of the Theanthropos, deny that the Theanthropos ever\ndid or could unite his activity with personal agents, deny the essence\nof the church, and then you would be logical, then you would be\nconsistent, then we could understand you. But to admit that the\nTheanthropos _is_ God, to admit that he _did_ unite his infinite and\ndivine activity to the sacramental element, to admit that he did so on\npurpose to teach all men in time and space, and then to affirm that\nthe church is not and cannot be infallible--that is, that the\nTheanthropos cannot teach infallibly through his personal agents--is\nsuch a logic as only the highly cultivated reason of Protestantism can\nunderstand. It is above the reach of that reason which is satisfied\nwith a moderate share of culture and refinement, and cannot claim to soar\nso high.\n\nWe beg the reader to reflect for an instant on this single question:\nIs it the Theanthropos, or is it not, who teaches through the agency\nof his personal instruments? To this simple question, a simple answer\nshould be given. Say you answer, It is not. Then you deny that the\nTheanthropos united his infinite energy to a sacramental element. Then\nyou deny the essence of the church, and, in denying that, you must\ndeny every other union between the infinite and the finite, as we have\ndemonstrated. If you say it _is_ the Theanthropos who teaches through\nthe agency of his personal instruments, then what can be more logical\nor more consistent than to say that he teaches infallibly? What is\nthere more reasonable than to say that a God-man should know what is\ntruth, and should express his mind so, should embody it in an external\nmeans so, as to represent that mind infallibly?\n\nThen, why so much opposition against this plainest attribute of the\nchurch? Why so much obloquy, so much sneering, except that the so\nboasted Protestant reason is nothing but a vile, unmanly prejudice,\nexcept that those who boast so much of exercising their reason\nresemble those innocent and unconscious animals of which Dante speaks:\n\n    \u201cAs _sheep_, that step forth from their fold, by one\n     Or pairs, or three, at once; meanwhile, the rest\n     Stand fearfully, bending the eye and nose\n     To ground, _and what the foremost does that do\n     The others, gathering round her if she stops,\n     Simple and quiet, nor the cause discern_\u201d?\n                                  --_Cary\u2019s Translation._\n\nThe next attribute of the church is authority. This, like the rest,\nflows from her very essence. That essence consists in being the\nsacramental extension of Christ incorporating unto himself all human      838\npersons in time and space, communicating to them the term of the\nsupernatural moment in its essence and faculties, and aiding them to\ndevelop those faculties, and to bring them to their ultimate\ncompletion. The church, therefore, as sacramental--that is, outward\nand sensible extension of the Theanthropos intended for men--is a\nvisible, outward society of human persons with the Theanthropos. Now,\nwhat does a visible society require? That the external relations of\nthe associates should be determined and governed by the authority\nlegitimately constituted in the society. For, if those relations were\nnot determined and directed by proper authority in a visible society,\nit is evident that no order could be expected, and that all the\nmembers could not form one moral body, by a proper external\ncommunication. The church, therefore, as a visible society, must have\nauthority to determine all the external relations of the members, and\nto govern and direct them.\n\nThis authority or power of establishing the external polity in the\nchurch is, of course, essentially residing in the Theanthropos, who\ncommunicates it whole and entire to the Supreme Pontiff, and through\nhim to the whole hierarchy and the rest of the active church.\n\nHaving vindicated the essential attributes of the church, we think it\nnecessary to dilate at some length upon the interior constitution, the\ninternal organism of the same, in order to exhibit a fuller and more\nadequate idea of this masterpiece of the infinite. And in order to do\nit thoroughly, we must give a cursory glance at its eternal type, the\nsupreme exemplar of everything--the Trinity. The reader will remember\nthat the genesis of God\u2019s life takes place as follows: There is in the\ninfinite essence and nature a first subsistence, unborn, unbegotten,\nwhich terminates in the first person. This is the supreme, active\nprinciple of the second, and both are the active principle of the\nthird. In this third termination closes the cycle of infinite life.\nThe production of the second person is brought about by intellectual\ngeneration. For the primary unbegotten activity, being infinitely\nintelligent, can scan with his glance the whole depth, breadth,\nheight, and length of his infinite nature. Now, to intelligence means\nto produce an intellectual image of the object which is understood.\nConsequently, the primary unbegotten principle, by intelligencing\nhimself, produces an intellectual image, absolutely equal to himself,\nthe act of intelligencing being infinite, and also distinct from him,\ninasmuch as they are opposed as principle and term. The first\ncontemplates himself in his substantial image, and is attracted toward\nhimself and his image. The second contemplates himself in his\nprinciple, and is attracted toward himself and his principle. This\ncommon, mutual attraction or love, being also infinite, is\nconsequently substantial, and results in a third termination of the\ninfinite essence.\n\nFrom this brief explanation of the genesis of God\u2019s life, it follows:\n\n1st. That the infinite, though one in nature, has three distinct\nterminations or persons.\n\n2d. That, though these three persons are absolutely equal, because\npossessed of the same identical nature, we find in them a necessary\nsubjection of order founded on the law of origin and production, the\nsecond being originated by the first, and being in this respect\nsubject to him; the third being originated by both, and under this\nrespect being subject to both.\n\n3d. The three persons, possessing the same identical nature and           839\nsubstance, possess, consequently, all the perfections and attributes\nflowing from the substance in the same identical manner. Hence they\npossess in common all the metaphysical attributes of the substance,\nsuch as infinity, eternity, immensity, immutability; all the\nintellectual attributes, such as truth, wisdom, etc.; all the moral\nattributes of the substance, such as goodness, etc.\n\n4th. As nature is the radical principle of action and life, it follows\nthat, as the three persons possess the same nature, they possess one\nidentical action and life. But as the termination is the immediate\nprinciple of action, and the three persons have a distinct\ntermination, their one identical action receives the impress of the\ndistinct termination of each.\n\n5th. Finally, the essence being identical in all the three persons,\nand the second and third being originated by an immanent action, and\nall being essentially relative to each other, it follows that they all\nlive in each other by a common indwelling.\n\nNow, the interior constitution, the internal organism, of the church\nmust be modelled, both in its active and passive moments, after this\nsupreme type of everything; always granting the necessary distance of\nproportion intervening between the infinite and the finite. For, if\nthe whole cosmos is and must be fashioned after that supreme pattern,\nhow much more must the church, which is the inchoative and initial\nperfection of the whole cosmos, the cosmos of personalities!\nConsequently, we must find in its interior organism all the laws of\nthe genesis of God\u2019s life--laws which in the whole cosmos are\nreflected in those of _unity_, _variety_, _hierarchy_, _communion_.\n\nAnd, first, as to the active moment of the church. As in the infinite\nwe find one nature and essence, the abyss of all perfections, the\n_Being_, so in the active church we must find one nature and\nessence, the reflex of the essence of God. And that one nature\nconsists in the fulness of the priesthood of the Theanthropos,\ncommunicated to the whole active church in the sacrament of order, and\nin the fulness of his authority.\n\nAs in the infinite the divine nature is possessed in common by a\nmultiplicity of persons, the three terminations constituting the\nTrinity, so in the active church the priesthood of Christ and his\nauthority must be possessed in common by a multiplicity of persons,\nsome possessing it in its fulness, some partially, because distinction\nin the finite is by gradation, and cannot be by perfect equality, but\nall having the same identical priesthood as to its nature.\n\nAs in the Trinity, we find the law of hierarchy absolutely necessary\nin organic and living beings, which hierarchy consists in this, that\nthe three divine persons, though absolutely equal as to nature, are\ndistinct as to personality--a distinction which arises from opposition\nof origin. Now, this opposition of origin necessarily gives rise to a\nhierarchical superiority of order; the Father as such being\nnecessarily superior in order to the Son, and the Son as such inferior\nto him; both as the aspirants of the third person necessarily superior\nto him, and _vice versa_.\n\nNow, this hierarchical law must be found also in the church, and we\nmust find a superiority of one over the other, not merely of order,\nbut of gradation; the finite, as we have said, not being distinct\nexcept by gradation of being. Hence, we find the Theanthropos to have\nestablished three distinct elements constituting the hierarchy, and       840\norganically brought together. The first, a primary principle of\nauthority from whom all receive, and he receives from none--the\nSupreme Pontiff, his own vicar on earth, the visible head of the\nchurch. The second, who receive from the first in measure and\nlimit--the episcopate, who receive from the Supreme Pontiff their\nauthority and its extent. The third, also, receive from both in a more\nlimited manner--the priesthood.[161]\n\nAs in the Trinity the divine nature, being the radical principle of\naction and life, and the termination, the proximate principle, there\nis one common action and life, but the same bearing the impress of the\nconstituent of each person; so in the church the authority being the\nsame as to nature, the Pontiff, the episcopate, and the priesthood\nhave one common life and action radically, but each one displaying it\naccording to the degree resulting from his dignity--the Pontiff in its\nfulness, the episcopate within the range of their dioceses, the\npriesthood within the limits appointed by the episcopate--the second\nas holding it from the first, the third from both.\n\nThe reader can see by the theory we have just explained, and which\ncannot be gainsaid, how the late definition of the infallibility of\nthe Supreme Pontiff is in accordance with and flows from the\nprinciples we have laid down. The Pontiff in the church of Christ is\nthe first and primary visible principle of all authority, as in the\ninterior of infinite life the eternal Father is the first primary\nprinciple of authority over the Son and the Spirit, as we have\nexplained above.\n\nFrom the Pontiff all must receive authority, and he can receive from\nnone, as the Father in the internal organism of the infinite\ncommunicates and receives from none. Consequently, the Supreme Pontiff\nbeing the first, primary, supreme, visible principle of authority in\nthe church of Christ, is the first, primary, supreme, visible\nteacher--the office of teaching being essentially included in the\nfulness of authority communicated to him by Christ.\n\nAnd as the office of teaching in the church of Christ would be of no\navail except it were endowed with the attribute of infallibility, it\nfollows that the Supreme Pontiff is the first, primary, supreme,\n_infallible_ teacher in the church of Christ. He must teach all, and\ncan be taught by none. He teaches by himself the whole universal\nchurch, and none has and can have any authority for disputing,\nobjecting to, and gainsaying his teaching.\n\nWe cannot perceive how any persons holding the supremacy and\nindependence of his authority could ever have reconciled with their\nlogic the dependence of his authority with reference to teaching.\n\nWe come to the interior organism of the passive church, to which the\nactive church also belongs in different relation, and we find in it\nalso a reflex of the Trinity.\n\nFor as in the infinite there is one nature common to all, communicated\nby the first person to the second, and by both to the third, so in the\npassive church we find the same nature, the term of the supernatural\nmoment, consisting in a higher similitude of and communication with\nthe Trinity; this term communicated by the active church; primarily by\nthe episcopate, and secondarily by the priesthood.                        841\n\nAs in the Trinity, the nature being the same, the three persons\npartake of all the attributes flowing from the nature, likewise, and\nwith due proportion in the church, the nature of the supernatural\nmoment being the same, all the members partake of the same attributes\nand faculties flowing from that nature; hence they have one common\nsupernatural intelligence, one common supernatural will.\n\nAs the Trinity, the nature being the radical principle of action, and\nthe personality the proximate, all have the same action, but each acts\naccording to the constituent of his personality; so in the church, the\nterm of the supernatural moment, constituting its nature, being the\nsame, all have the same supernatural action and life; but personally,\nsome members belonging to the active church, and some to the passive,\nit follows that those who belong to the first display that life in\nthat relation, and those who belong to the second display it in the\nsecond relation.\n\nAs in the Trinity we find an indwelling of all the persons in each\nother, and a living perpetual communication founded on the identity of\nnature and on the relation of personalities; so in the church of\nChrist we find a perpetual communication of its members with each\nother, founded on the identity of nature, the term of the supernatural\nmoment, and on the relation of personalities, all members of the\npassive church communicating with and living, as it were, in the\nactive church, because proceeding from it.\n\nWe see, therefore, what is the interior organism of the church. As to\nthe active church, the fulness of the priesthood of the Theanthropos\nis given to the whole active church. The organism is constituted and\nestablished by authority. The fulness of his authority is communicated\nto one, the Supreme Pontiff, the visible head of the church. From him,\nand from him alone, all others must receive authority. And hence the\nunity of the whole active church, unity of authority, of action and\nlife, and the proper hierarchical order. The passive church is\nestablished upon the bestowal of the supernatural nature and faculties\nand acts. The two are brought together by the community of the same\nsupernatural nature, faculties, and acts; and, by the dependence of\norigin, the second proceeding and being originated by the first. Both\nhave one common life and action, but hierarchically exercised, the\npassive being governed and directed by the one which originates it,\nand thus exhibiting a most perfect image of the Trinity.\n\nWe have only been commenting upon those words of the Theanthropos:\n\u201cHoly Father, keep these in thy name whom thou hast given me, that\nthey may be one, as we also are.\u201d Here we have the necessity of the\nchurch being modelled after the Trinity, the archetype of everything.\n\n\u201cAs thou hast sent me into the world, I also have sent them into the\nworld.\u201d The common nature of the active church, the mission and\nauthority of the Theanthropos.\n\n\u201cAnd not for these only do I pray, but for all those who, through\ntheir words, shall believe in me.\u201d The continuation of that authority.\n\n\u201cSanctify them in truth.\u201d The common nature of the passive church, the\nterm of the supernatural moment.\n\n\u201cThat they may be one, as thou Father in me and I in thee, that they\nmay be one in us.\u201d The completion of the inchoative society, brought\nabout by the supernatural element of union, and by the incorporation      842\nwith the Theanthropos.\n\nTo complete the theory of the church, we have now to point out the\ncharacteristic marks which distinguish it from any counterfeit\ninstitution of men. These marks are four: unity, holiness,\ncatholicity, and apostolicity.\n\n_Unity._ What is the church, viewed in its essence, attributes, and\ninterior organism? It is the Theanthropos annexing his infinite energy\nand his substantial presence to a sacramental element, both physical\nand personal, and through them first elevating human persons to a\nsupernatural being, with its essence and faculties of supernatural\nintelligence and supernatural will in an incipient and inchoative\nstate; secondly, through his sacramental, personal element proposing\nand expounding his _gnosis_ to their supernatural intelligence; by a\nsecond sacramental moment elevating this supernatural essence and\nfaculties to a determinate and definite growth: by the sacramental\nmoment of his presence incorporating all elevated persons unto\nhimself, and thus putting them in immediate contact with himself, and\nthrough him with the Trinity on one side and with all the cosmos in\nnature and personality on the other side, and thus affording their\nsupernatural faculties proper objects on which they may feed, expand,\nbe developed, and arrive at their ultimate perfection. Finally, by the\npersonal sacramental element governing and directing all their\nexterior relations and communication to one social final end; and all\nthis not in any particular spot or period of time, but in all space\nand in all time. From this it is evident that the church of Christ is\n_one_ in force of the unity of the Theanthropos with the sacramental\nelement; _one_ in consequence of the interior unity of organism, both\nof the active and passive church; _one_ in consequence of the unity\nof the supernatural being and faculties, the end of the church;\n_one_ in force of the unity of the object of the supernatural\nintelligence; _one_ in consequence of the unity of the object of the\nsupernatural will--God and his cosmos, in their relations to each\nother; _one_ in consequence of the real communion and intercourse\nbetween the members of the church; _one_, finally, in consequence of\nthe oneness of the visible government of the church, all emanating\nfrom one invisible and one visible head.\n\nThe second distinctive mark of the church must be holiness. For the\nend of the church is to impart to human persons in time and space the\nterm of the supernatural moment, together with its faculties, and\nespecially the faculty and habit of supernatural intelligence and\nsupernatural will or charity, in which, as we have demonstrated in the\ntenth article, the very essence of holiness consists. If the church,\ntherefore, were deprived of this distinctive mark, she would fail in\nthat very object for which she was instituted.\n\nBut it is to be remarked that not any degree of holiness would be\nsufficient to constitute a distinctive mark of the church, but a\ncertain fulness of it is required in some of its members, for a\ntwofold reason.\n\nLike every moment of God\u2019s exterior action, she is subject to the law\nof variety by hierarchy. This involves the necessity of the church\nranging between the lowest degree of sanctity to the very pinnacle of\nsublimest and loftiest exhibition of it; otherwise, those two laws\ncould not be realized.\n\nSecondly, an ordinary degree of holiness can easily be counterfeited.\nBut none could for any length of time or any extension of space assume\na sanctity which soars far above the ordinary and common level, and       843\nwhich exhibits itself as such. _Nemo personam diu fert_ could be\napplied in this case more than in any other.\n\nThe next distinctive mark is _catholicity_ or _universality_. She is\nsuch not only because she contains all truth; not only because she\nembraces all the moments of God\u2019s action, as the finishing stroke of\nthem all; but because she is intended for all time and all space.\n\nFinally, the last mark is _apostolicity_. The first members of the\nhierarchy chosen by the Theanthropos to communicate as moral\ninstruments the term of the sublimative moment, with the power and\nauthority to transmit to others that very same dignity of being moral\ninstruments, were the _apostles_. Therefore, that church alone can be\nthe church of the Theanthropos which to this day and for ever can show\nthat her own hierarchy are the legitimate successors of the apostles,\nby an uninterrupted communication. For we have said that the essence\nof the church is to be the Theanthropos acting in time and space,\nthrough the agency of the hierarchy and other sacraments. Now, suppose\na hierarchy who cannot claim or make good their claim to be the\nlegitimate successors of the first ones who composed it, who could not\nclaim any communication or union with them, how could we suppose them\nto be those very instruments in whom and through whom the Theanthropos\nlives and acts?\n\nBefore we draw the consequence which follows from all we have said\nconcerning the church, it is necessary to recapitulate in a few words\nall we have written in these articles.\n\nWe set out with the question of the infinite, and after refuting the\npantheistic idea of the infinite, and showing that pantheism in its\nsolution of the problem destroys it, we gave the Catholic idea of the\ninfinite. Here another problem sprang up--multiplicity in the\ninfinite. No being can be conceived endowed with pure, unalloyed\nunity. It must be multiple, under pain of being inconceivable. What is\nthe multiplicity which can be admitted in the infinite? We\ndemonstrated that the pantheistic solution which says that infinite\nbecomes multiple by a necessary interior development, destroys both\nterms, the unity and the multiplicity. We proceeded to lay down the\nCatholic answer to the problem, and explained, as far as lay in our\npower, the mystery of the ever-blessed Trinity. The question next in\norder was the finite. And we showed the finite to be the effect of an\nabsolutely free act of infinite power, free both to its creation at\nall and also with regard to the amount of perfection to be created;\nthough we admitted and proved that it was befitting on the part of the\nCreator to effect the best possible manifestation of himself. Here we\nfound ourselves in face of a duality which claimed reconciliation. How\ncould the finite and the infinite be united together, so as to\npreserve whole and entire the two respective natures, and at the same\ntime to effect the best possible manifestation of the infinite? We\nanswered by laying down the Catholic dogma of the hypostatic union,\nwhich raised the finite to a hypostatic or personal union with the\ninfinite, and elevated finite natures to the highest possible dignity.\nBut as the hypostatic moment raised to a personal union only nature,\nand left out personality, another duality arose: how to unite human\npersons with the Theanthropos, and through him with God, and make them\npartakers as far as possible of the dignity and elevation of the nature   844\nhypostatically united to the _Word_. The sublimative moment\nanswered the question. This moment, medium between the Theanthropos\nand substantial creation, by bestowing upon human persons a higher\nnature and faculties, enabled them to unite in close contact with the\nTheanthropos and through him with the Trinity. But what was the medium\nchosen to transmit the term of the sublimative moment to human persons\nin time and space? The Theanthropos himself, the essential mediator\nbetween God and the cosmos; and to that effect he united his infinite\nenergy and his substantial presence to personal and physical\ninstruments, and through them imparted to human persons in time and\nspace the term of the sublimative moment; and thus the cycle of the\nprocession of the cosmos from the infinite was perfected in its being\nand faculties, to begin a movement of return to the same infinite as\nits supreme end. The sacramental extension of the Theanthropos in time\nand space we have demonstrated to be the Catholic Church, and from its\nessence we have drawn her essential attributes of visibility,\nindefectibility, infallibility, and authority, and also its intrinsic\nmarks of unity, holiness, catholicity, and apostolicity.\n\nAfter this necessarily imperfect sketch of all our articles, we submit\nto the reader this necessary consequence--_the Roman Catholic Church\nis the only true church of God_.\n\nFirst, because it is in the teaching of the Roman Catholic Church\nalone that the life of the intelligence is possible. We have shown\nthroughout our articles that in every question which the human mind\nraises, there is no possible alternative--either embrace the Catholic\nsolution, so coherent with reason; or the pantheistic solution, and\nthe death of the intelligence. Now, when we speak of the Catholic\nsolution, we mean of the solution which is given by the church whose\nhead is the Bishop of Rome, for no other pretended Catholic Church\ngives all the true solutions.\n\nSecond, because it is the Roman Catholic Church alone which knows her\nown essence and attributes. All others are more or less ignorant of\nthe essence and attributes necessary to the church of the\nTheanthropos.\n\nThirdly, it is to the Roman Catholic Church alone to which the\nessence, attributes, and marks which we have shown _\u00e0 priori_ to\nbelong necessarily to the Church of Christ apply. Consequently, the\nRoman Catholic Church is the real cosmos of God in its perfection of\nbeing and faculties, and men have no possible alternative but to join\nit, to submit to its authority, under pain of the death of the\nintelligence, of being a creature out of joint with the whole system\nof God\u2019s works, of being in the impossibility of attaining their last\nend in palingenesia. The Roman Catholic Church or pantheism--all truth\nor no truth--death or life here and hereafter.\n\n\n     [161] We have said _authority_ and not sacerdotal character,\n     because as to that there is no difference between the\n     Supreme Pontiff and the episcopate, but only between the\n     episcopate and the priesthood.\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n                 THE LAST DAYS OF OISIN, THE BARD.                        845\n\n                         BY AUBREY DE VERE.\n\n\n                                III.\n\n                           OISIN\u2019S YOUTH.\n\n\n         \u201cPatrick! thy priests do ill to jeer,\n            Not me, but Oscar\u2019s self, and Fionn:\n          Wise are they; but the dead are dear:\n            This deed is not well done.\n\n         \u201cWho dares to say the King lies bound\n            By angel hosts in bonds abhorred?\n          Had these lain bound, great Fionn had found\n            And freed them with his sword!\n\n         \u201cHad Fionn but heard thine Eve lament\n            The apple stol\u2019n--the curse on men--\n          For _eric_ apples he had sent,\n            Shiploads threescore and ten!\n\n         \u201cLikewise that serpent slain had he!\n            Fionn ever said this way was best,\n          To kill the bad that killed should be,\n            And be loving to the rest.\n\n         \u201cPatrick, a pact with thee I make:\n            Because my warriors they deride,\n          With thee to heaven my father take,\n            And leave they priests outside!\n\n         \u201cPatrick, this other boon I crave,\n            That I to thee in heaven may sing\n          Full loud the glories of the brave,\n            And Fionn, my sire and king!\u201d--\n\n         \u201cOisin, in heaven the praises swell                              846\n            To God alone from Soul and Saint:--\u201d\n         \u201cThen, Patrick, I their deeds will tell\n            In a little whisper faint!\n\n         \u201cWho says that Fionn his sentence waits\n            In some dark realm, the thrall of sin?\n          Fionn would have burst that kingdom\u2019s gates,\n            Or ruled himself therein!\u201d\n\n         \u201cOld man, for once thy chiefs forget\u201d\n            (Thus oft the Saint his rage beguiled):\n         \u201cSing us thine own bright youth, while yet\n            A stripling, or a child.\u201d\n\n         \u201cO Patrick, glad that time and dear!\n            It wrought no greatness, gained no gain,\n          Not less those things that thou wouldst hear\n            Thou shalt not seek in vain.\n\n         \u201cMy mother was a princess, turned\n            By magic to a milk-white doe:--\n          Such tale, a wondering child, I learned:\n            True was it? Who can know?\u2019\n\n         \u201cI know but this, that, yet a boy,\n            I raced beside her like the wind:\n          We heard the hunter\u2019s horn with joy\n            And left the pack behind.\n\n         \u201cA strength was mine that knew no bound,\n            A witless strength that nothing planned:\n          When came the destined hour, I found\n            Some great deed in my hand.\n\n         \u201cForth from a cave I stept at Beigh:\n            O\u2019er ivied cliffs the loose clouds rushed:--\n          With them I raced, and reached ere they\n            The loud seas sandhill-hushed.\n\n         \u201cBy Brandon\u2019s cliff an eagle brown\n            O\u2019erhung our wave-borne coracle:\n          I hurled at him my lance, and down\n            Like falling stars he fell.\n\n         \u201cOn that green shore of Ardrakese                                847\n            An untamed horse I made my slave,\n          And forced him far o\u2019er heaving seas,\n            And reinless rode the wave.\n\n         \u201cMethinks my brow I might have laid\n            Against a bull\u2019s, and there and then\n          Backward have pushed him up the glade,\n            And down the rocky glen!\n\n         \u201cSo ran my youth through dark and bright,\n            In deeds half jest. Their time is gone:\n          The glorious works of thoughtful might\n            For Oscar were, and Fionn.\n\n         \u201cWhen met the hosts in mirth I fought:\n            My war-fields still with revel rang:\n          My sword with such a god was fraught\n            That, while it smote, it sang.\n\n         \u201cMy spear, unbidden, to my hand\n            Leaped, hawk-wise, for the battle\u2019s sake:\n          Forth launched, it flashed along the land\n            With music in its wake.\n\n         \u201cA shield I bore so charged and stored\n            With rage and yearnings for the fight,\n          When foes drew near it shook, and roared\n            Like breakers in the night:\n\n         \u201cThen only when the iron feast\n            Of war its hungry heart had stilled,\n          It murmured, like a whispering priest\n            Or frothing pail new-filled.\u201d\n\n         \u201cSay, knew\u2019st thou never fear or awe?\u201d\n            Thus Patrick, and the Bard replied:\n         \u201cYea, once: for once a man I saw\n            Who--not in battle--died.\n\n         \u201cI sang the things I loved--the fight--\n            The chance inspired that all decides--\n          That pause of death, when Fate and Flight\n            Drag back the battle tides:\n\n         \u201cThe swords that blent their lightnings blue--                   848\n            The midnight march--the city\u2019s sack--\n          The advancing ridge of spears that threw\n            The levelled sunrise back.\n\n         \u201cAnd yet my harp could still the storm,\n            Redeem the babe from magic blight,\n          Restore to human heart and form\n            The unhappy spell-bound knight.\n\n         \u201cAnd some could hear a sobbing hind\n            Among my chords; and some would swear\n          They heard that kiss of branch and wind\n            That lulled the wild-deer\u2019s lair!\n\n         \u201cI sang not lies: where base men thronged,\n            I sat not, neither harped for gold:\n          My song no generous foeman wronged,\n            No woman\u2019s secret told.\n\n         \u201cI sang among the sea-side flocks\n            When sunset flushed the bowery spray,\n          Or when the white moon scaled the rocks\n            And glared upon the bay.\n\n         \u201cMy stately music I rehearsed\n            On shadowing cliffs, when, far below,\n          In rolled the moon-necked wave, and burst,\n            And changed black shores to snow.\n\n         \u201cBut now I tread a darker brink:\n            Far down, unfriendlier waters moan:\n          And now of vanished times I think;\n            Now of that bourn unknown.\n\n         \u201cI strike my harp; I make good cheer;\n            Yet scarce myself can catch its sound:\n          I see but shadows bending near\n            When feasters press around.\n\n         \u201cSay, Patrick of the mystic lore,\n            Shall I, when this old head lies low,\n          My Oscar see, and Fionn, once more,\n            And run beside that Doe?\u201d\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n  LETTER OF MONSEIGNEUR DUPANLOUP, BISHOP OF ORLEANS, TO M. GAMBETTA.     849\n\n                          FROM L\u2019UNIVERS.\n\n\nSir: After having read the speech which you have recently delivered at\nSt. Quentin, I waited a few days to see if some one would come forward\nand do justice to the words you uttered. But since they have been\nallowed to pass without protest from any one, I will, albeit I have\nnot much taste for it, say what I have to say about them.\n\nYour speech treats both of politics and religion, and you deal with\nthese two great matters as if you were bound very shortly to become\ntheir lord and master. I shall not say much about your politics,\nalthough their threatening character adds to the already grave anxiety\nwith which our poor country is burdened; but, as a bishop, I have a\nright to call you to account for the war which you declare against the\nchurch and against religion.\n\nFor war, indeed, it may be called, and accompanied with such\naccusations and such outrageous insults, that, if your words were\ntrue, we should deserve to be driven not only out of the school-house,\nas you demand, but out of the church itself.\n\nI must admit to have been at first misled by the apparent moderation\nof your words. Taking interest, as I do, in conversions when they are\nsincere, I asked myself, while reading your discourse, in which you\nappeared to me so calm, so insinuating, and so circumspect, though at\nthe same time so devoid of modesty--I asked myself if the time had\ncome when the National Assembly was about to present the spectacle of\na reconciliation of parties in the presence of the image of an ideal\nrepublic. What abundance of honey flowed from your lips! Even at\ntimes, how much toleration in your maxims!\n\nIn this statement, this programme, this message, the manifesto, or by\nwhatever name it should be called, which you addressed to your\nassembled guests at St. Quentin, you proceed in this wise:\n\nYou call for \u201ca strong and stable government, that will vigilantly\nprotect the interests of _all_, and be able to _regenerate the morals_\nof the French family.\u201d On this point, sir, we certainly all agree.\nThis government, you go on to say, will pacify souls, bring the social\nclasses closer to one another, and will restore to France her rank in\nEurope. This is also very fine. But let us see further.\n\nTo bring about this end, you appeal even to the disabused voters of\nthe _pl\u00e9biscite_; even to the legitimists, who, by their wealth and\neducation, are to be the _ornament of the state_; even to the\nconservative men, who are to be as a bridle of restraint on a policy\nwhich your friends are to urge forward.\n\nAnd what is to be this policy? The _policy of labor_, very different\nfrom the policy of conquest, the triumph of the _idea of justice_ in\nthe fulfilment of social duties. I cannot forbear remarking here that\nthese expressions, _policy of labor_, _idea of justice_, are in daily     850\nuse by the _Internationale_, and not in a sense particularly intended\nto tranquillize society. But let us go on.\n\nBut this form of government, this policy, how is its establishment to\nbe brought about? Why, by universal suffrage, that foremost of rights,\nthat sole and sovereign tribunal, that army of peace. And how is\nuniversal suffrage to be persuaded and drawn to the desired end? By\ngiving to public opinion, through _democratic intermingling_, proofs\nof the _morality_, the _political value_, and the _adaptation_ for\n_business_ of the republican party; by demonstrating that the _republican\ngovernment is the most liberal of all forms of government_, etc.\n\nReally, sir, all this must have appeared admirable to your audience,\nand, if your republic is of that sort, many of our most upright\nconservatives will tell you: Let us clasp hands, for that is the very\nrepublic which the National Assembly, acting with and through M.\nThiers, is endeavoring to realize at the cost of so much self-denial,\ndisinterestedness, and honesty.\n\nBut let us be frank.\n\nYou have no right to claim that your republic answers this\ndescription. Your sweetness is purely oratorical and Platonic; for two\nsentences of your address reveal you and show who you are.\n\n\u201cNo one,\u201d you say, \u201cmust ever give his opinion except as a means of\nadding to the general good; and each one must convert his mind into,\nas it were, a memorandum tablet for himself, in which he puts down,\nwith a view of obtaining them, the institutions which the people have\na right to expect from the democratic republic.\u201d\n\nIf a priest had uttered these words, which seem more befitting the lips\nof an Italian than of a Frenchman, he would be charged with hypocrisy\nand mental reservation. It would be said that he is playing saint;\nthat he is concealing his game by not revealing his innermost\nthoughts. But everything is forbidden to the cleric, while to the\nradical any and everything is allowed. This everybody knows. I confine\nmyself to merely quoting this first sentence, without further dwelling\non its merits; and I pass on to a second one, which gives me a right,\nnot only to suspect you, as in the case of the former one, but to make\na direct attack on you; its tenor is as follows:\n\n\u201cWhat I have done in the past is the true pledge of what I will do in\nthe future, toward definitively establishing the republic.\u201d\n\nIt is here, sir, that I must challenge you.\n\nIn the first place, I have to express my amazement that, having to\naccount to your country, under so grave a responsibility, and for\nmisdeeds for which you might have been rendered far more seriously\nliable, you can be so ready to accuse others and to glorify yourself,\nthat you go so far as to dare to say: \u201cWhat I have done in the past is\nthe true pledge of what I will do in the future.\u201d\n\nWhat have you done in the past?\n\nYou were a young lawyer, and were turned all of a sudden, and in\nconsequence of a tumultuous lawsuit, into a political character. The\naudacity of your revolutionary opinions enabled you to become a\ncandidate for the Corps L\u00e9gislatif, and in the next place to take your\nseat as a deputy by the side of your friends Blanqui, Raspail, and\nRochefort.\n\nOn the 4th September, you seized upon the governing power, and,\nwithout consulting with your colleagues, you assigned to yourself the\nMinistry of the Interior. Did you, as soon as you got into the            851\nministry, extend to all good citizens those arms which you seem now to\nbe opening so widely? Not at all. In the H\u00f4tel de Ville,[162] you\ninstalled such men as Etienne Arago, Ferry, and Rochefort; in the\n_mairie_, such characters as Delescluze, Mottu, Bonvalet, Cl\u00e9menceau;\nin the _pr\u00e9fectures_, such as Duportal, Engelhard, and Jacobins of\nall sorts. You filled these places with your friends--your friends\nonly, and these of the most excitable kind. Afterward, when your\ncolleagues, in order to get rid of you, were so signally weak as to\ngive you the entire realm to operate upon, when, through a fortunate\ncontingency, you had suddenly entrusted to you that magnificent part\nwhich, to a heroic and truly patriotic heart, would have been\nunsurpassable, what did you do? You sought rather to force the\nrepublic--your republic--on the country than to save France. It is\nwell for you to talk about universal suffrage. You have treated it as\nnaught. By a first decree, you broke up the _conseils-g\u00e9n\u00e9raux_, and\ndid not re-establish them. By a second decree, you adjourned the\nelections. By a third decree, you abridged the legal qualifications\nfor election. What have you, sole ruler everywhere obeyed, done with\nthe treasure, the men, and the blood of her children which the nation\nlavished upon you? Was it not a republican who called your fatal rule\nthe _dictatorship of incompetency_?\n\nThough only three months in power, you had become almost a greater\nburden upon us than the late Imperial Government; and when you assert\nthat the National Assembly has completed its work, which was to put an\nend to the war, you forget that the Assembly had received from France\nnot one mandate only, but three. The Assembly had, and has still,\ngiven it the charge to rid our country of the Prussians, of\ndemagoguism, and of yourself.\n\nAfter the dreadful catastrophes in which the Empire sank to ruin, do\nyou know, sir, what proved to be France\u2019s greatest misfortune?\n\nIt was that just then, in that so terrible a crisis, you stood the\nabsolute master of France. I make no reference to the two aged men who\nwere at Tours with you. It was from you, a lawyer, that our generals\nreceived their orders; it was you who dictated plans for campaigns; it\nwas you who scattered our forces, and blindly hurled our armies right\nand left, multiplying your lying bulletins, and at the same time and\nto the same extent as our reverses.--But I must turn away my thoughts\nfrom those disasters, as also from the remembrance of those poor\nsoldiers, without clothes, without shoes, without food, without\nammunition! How great an organizer, my dear sir, you proved yourself\nto be! How fortunate you turned out to have been in the selection of\nyour contractors for supplies!\n\nNevertheless, the nation, ever generous, might have measurably\naccepted, as an offset to this, your personal activity, and your\nefforts, although unsuccessful; it had given you credit for having\nwithdrawn yourself momentarily; but you reappeared too quickly, only a\nshort time before the day when the Commune of Paris was putting\nforward your friends, your lieutenants, your teachers, or your\ndisciples, such as Delescluze and Milli\u00e8re, Rigault and Ranc, Cavalier\nand Mottu, all those fellows who have made themselves as ignominious      852\nand ridiculous as possible, some of whom are still around you; in\nfine, all that party which you have never, even to the extent of a\nsingle word, disavowed, and the members of which you called upon to\ngive evidence of their morality, their political worth, and their\naptitude for the business of government! That evidence has been given,\nand really, sir, you rely too much on the frivolity, the folly, or the\ncredulity of the public. You preach to it about a debonair republic,\nbut that public has not forgotten the grotesque, ruinous republic,\naccompanied with bloodshed, which during six months was fastened on\nFrance.\n\nYou have avoided with prudent care to call your republic _social_ as\nwell as _democratic_; and why? In order to enjoy the happiness of a\nfleeting hour of dictatorship, I suppose it is worth your while to run\nthe risk of more calamities. Alas! unfortunate land, fated to be thus\nperpetually the dupe and the victim of most guilty ambition!\n\nNo, in spite of all that you may say or leave unsaid, your promises\nare contradicted by our memories. We need, in order to be persuaded,\nsomething else than sonorous words. It is true that, in one point\nonly, you depart from the vague style of your programme. You declare\nthat you seek, above all things, to lay the foundation of the future\nof democracy on a reform, to wit, in education; and with this idea,\nyou proclaim that you and your friends are alone capable, alone\nworthy, to bring up youth. You seek to turn out _just_, _free_,\nstrong-minded and able men. This is very fine. But how? By means of a\nnational education given after a _truly modern_ and _truly democratic_\nmanner.\n\nAnd here you dare to affirm that the church and preceding governments\nhave done nothing for public instruction, that they view every person\nwho knows how to read as an enemy, and you claim to reform the world\nwith your schools.\n\nAllow me to reply that in this matter you are taking advantage of\nignorance instead of combating it. For it argues a singular reliance\non the ignorance of an audience to attempt to make it swallow at one\nand the same time, and in the same sentence, calumny and nonsense.\n\nThe governments that have ruled France for the past sixty years have\nin that period established more than 50,000 schools, and have trebled\nthe appropriations for primary instruction.\n\nAs to the church, she is founded on two things: a book, the Gospel,\nand a divine command, to wit: _Ite et docete_, Go and teach. This\nsentence, which has become commonplace, \u201c_Ignorance is the source of\nall evils_,\u201d was uttered by a pope, and he added besides, \u201c_particularly\namong the working-classes_.\u201d These were the words of Benedict XIV.,\nuttered more than a century before you were born.\n\nThe calumny is consequently shown to be dull-witted, and the nonsense\nstill more so. It would seem that you also, M. Gambetta, hope, by\nmeans of schools, to stamp your effigy on future generations, just as\nif they were coin. But men versed in the subject know, and experience\nshows, that such a design is absurd, and may become a horrid tyranny.\nThe instruction, whether primary or secondary, even with as much as\nyou can add to it of the higher sciences, such as algebra, chemistry,\netc., will not produce morals; and the parties who flatter the\nteachers expect, after all, much more from their influence on voters\nthan from their action on their scholars.\n\nWould you like to know what above all things, exerts an influence on      853\nthe family and on society? It is education, whether it be moral or\nimmoral, religious or atheistic. And do you know why I mistrust your\nreform? Because it will be neither a moral nor a religious one.\n\nIn sober truth, what sort of tuition is a _really modern_, a _really\ndemocratic_, one? Is there such a thing as modern geometry? a democratic\ngrammar? moral teachings of recent growth, and a geography not yet\npublished? All these big words are but windy oratory, empty and\nobscure, which affords no meaning to the mind when it attempts to\nanalyze it.\n\nNevertheless, after having thrown off these sentences to your hearers,\nyou go on and recite the mottoes of the party, the watchword of the\nday. It is a pity that you left out tithes and forced service under\nfeudal law. You say tuition is to be _free of cost_--that is\nequivalent to adding thirty millions to our budget of expenditure;\nbut what does that signify? You have managed to spend a large sum\nbesides. The poor will pay for the rich; but the lower classes will\ndelude themselves with the belief that they are not paying at all, and\nthat they are indebted to you for the benefaction. Tuition is besides\nto be _compulsory_. Well, let it be so, if you can devise some\nadequate sanction for the contemplated enactments, a reliable\nprotection for the liberty of families, and, in particular, a reliable\nguarantee for the teachers, so that you can feel sure enough of them\nto venture, without practising the most abominable of all tyranny, to\ncompel parents to entrust to them, what they prize most in this world,\ntheir children. But then, minor details do not stop you. To conclude,\nthe tuition is to be by _laymen_--and now the cat is let out of the\nbag.\n\nIt is an easy matter to attack and calumniate absent priests,\nreligious who make no defence. To do so is neither fair nor generous,\nbut much popularity is to be got in that way in your party, and the\nhard flings at the church will offset the sweetness displayed toward\nother persons. So let us strike hard on this spot. The church is\nhenceforward to be separated from the state--that is not enough, the\nchurch is besides to be separated from the school, and the school from\nall religion.\n\nYou have said, sir, that your republic would be a liberal one. If you\naccordingly begin by excluding from the common right to teach an\nentire class of citizens and of women, solely because their religious\nbelief is not the same as yours, do not call yourself liberal, and do\nnot charge the church with being intolerant, or else be logically\nconsistent, and separate the _state from the school_. For the state,\nin this connection, means the budget; that is to say, the moneys which\nare got of all of us by taxation. You cannot, without being\ntyrannical, compel families to send their children to the school of\nthe state. Lay aside these high-sounding phrases, and call things by\ntheir right names. By the church you mean _us_. By the state you mean\nyourself. To deprive us and our doctrines of our money, in order to\nbestow it on yourself and your doctrines--that is what is called\nseparating the church from the state. But I feel pretty easy as to the\nchoice families will make when I learn from you what the programme of\nthis teaching is to be.\n\nThe programme is this: \u201cIt is an extensive and varied one, so that,\ninstead of mutilated learning, man will have dealt out to him\n_entire truth_, so that _nothing which the human mind can grasp_ will     854\nbe concealed from him.\u201d _De omni re scibili!_ Well, that is wonderful\nindeed! No doubt you will have the power to create minds capable of\ntaking in this encyclop\u00e6dia! You are equal to so many undertakings! So\nthat which you have in view, gratuitous, compulsory, lay tuition,\nintegral besides for every one and complete to an impossible\ndegree--this is the formula of socialism, and is also the formula of\nabsurdity.\n\n\u201cIn the schools,\u201d you add, \u201cchildren will be taught scientific\n_truth_ in its rigor and _its majestic simplicity_,\u201d and by this\nprocess \u201cyou will have reared citizens _whose principles will rest on\nthe same bases on which our entire society is founded_.\u201d\n\nWhat do you mean by these big words? What are these _principles_? what\nare these _bases_? Whether it be that _those principles rest on these\nbases_, or that these bases are fast to those principles, how much of\nthis will you teach to children from the ages of seven to eleven\nyears? I call upon you to give me plainly the text of the _programme\nof science_ which our worthy village teachers, who are to seek to\ninstil into children of from seven to eleven years the sense of duty\nand sacrifice, will have to substitute for the Ten Commandments of\nGod, and for the sublime and popular Gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ.\n\nWhat is it, pray, sir, that renders you so ungrateful towards the\nvoters of Paris or of Lyons, who nearly all have been educated by the\nBrothers, so severe on the priests, who perhaps have done something\nfor your early education, and so unjust towards the church?\n\nIt is my duty to insist on this point, and to protest against your\ncalumnies.\n\nWhat! though the clergy of France have devoted themselves, as they have\ndone, to the service of our soldiers and our prisoners, and though\nwhen, only four months ago, our chaplains and our Brothers of the\nChristian Schools had served and died on the battle-fields, and though\nall our female religious have devoted themselves to the care of our\nambulances, you have the heart to come and tell us that we are no\nlonger French! And it is immediately after the massacre of the\nhostages that you repeat these calumnies, and represent us as\nconstituting for modern society \u201cthe greatest peril.\u201d Such are your\nvery words, and you hold us up anew to the blind fury of our enemies.\n\nAnd you direct your calumnies not against us alone, but, besides,\nagainst the Pope. Ah! I admit, the horrors, treachery, meanness, and\nfalsehood by which he has been surrounded during the past twenty-five\nyears have not brought him to look with favor on the charms of that\nsham liberty which you promise him, and he may well fail to admire\nthat Garibaldi for whose sake you, perhaps, sacrificed our army of the\nEast. But in the Encyclical which your hearers have never read, the\nPope has not condemned the various forms of government as they exist\nin the laws of various nations. He has condemned liberty unrestrained,\nrights without countervailing duties, and societies that know not God.\nAs to the family and property, sir, is it becoming _your_ friends to\nstyle themselves their virtuous defenders?\n\nBut what is singular in this pell-mell gathering of confused and\nincoherent ideas, is your alleged motive for denying to French priests\nthe right to teach which belongs to them in common with all their\nfellow-countrymen: \u201cWhen you have appealed to the energies of men\nreared by such teachers, when you seek to arouse in them ideas of         855\nsacrifice, of devotedness, of patriotism, you will find that you have\nto deal with an emasculated, debilitated class of men.\u201d And the reason\nyou assign for the emasculation and debilitation of this class reared\nunder our care is still more singular: it is because _we teach them to\nbelieve in Providence_, and because teachers that believe in Providence\n_are only fit to emasculate and debilitate the human race_. At this\npoint, sir, you set \u201cthe doctrine which accustoms the mind to the idea\nof a Providence\u201d in opposition to \u201crevolution, which teaches the\nauthority and responsibility of the will of man and free agency.\u201d But,\nsir, these things are not incompatible with one another. Both are\ntaught by Christian doctrine, and, by setting them in opposition as\nyou do, you show that you neither understand yourself nor the matters\nof which you are treating.\n\nBut you, who do not believe in Providence, and who are consequently\nneither emasculated nor debilitated, do you know of any other belief\nthat can better teach mankind to bear with life and brave death? You\nhave this year ordered many men to rush to destruction. Would you have\ndared to recommend our soldiers to go forth to meet death, mocking\nGod? And do you believe that the souls of the Pontifical Zouaves, and\nof the Breton _francs-tireurs_, were enervated by their faith in\nProvidence?\n\nBut be cautious. In order that your reasoning be consistent, a belief\nin Providence appertains not to priests alone, but to whoever\nprofesses the Christian faith; consequently, if priests are to be\nbanished from the schools because they teach that emasculating dogma,\nthen all Christians must be kept out as well, and henceforward you\nmust exact from every teacher and every professor not to believe in\nProvidence.\n\nAvow, sir, that seldom have calumnies and absurdities been mixed up\ntogether with greater facility than you have done in these words of\nyours.\n\nNevertheless, you manage to go on still further, and you attempt to\ncreate a division between the _higher clergy_, whom you traduce, and\nthose whom you call the lower clergy, whom you flatter, by endeavoring\nto excite them to envy. You labor in vain, sir; and, besides, I do not\nrecognize any lower clergy as such. The rank of the priesthood is the\nhighest to which we can attain; no bishop, not even the Pope himself,\nhas a sacerdotal character different from that of the most humble\npriest. All ecclesiastical dignities are, in one sense, beneath the\ntitle of priest, which leads to the highest offices and dignities of\nthe church. So that, in this regard, it may be said that no\ninstitution is so democratic as the church. Sprung from the people as\nwe nearly all of us are, educated together and fed together on the\nwords of him who died for the people, we will suffer ourselves to be\nneither divided nor deceived.\n\nOur fraternity is of the right sort. Our God is the true God, and you\nare without any. Be sincere, sir: come out of this mere talk, and\nanswer me plainly and without oratorical precaution, whether, yes or\nno, _the free thought_ in which you are a believer, and _human science,\nwhich, according to you, has nothing to equal it_, recognize the\nexistence of a personal and living God? Candor leaves you no\nalternative but to reply. Either dare to declare to your friends that\nyou do believe, or dare to proclaim to our land that you do not\nbelieve, in God.\n\nIf indeed your sham science denies God, I pity you, sir; but you must     856\nadmit that it hardly becomes you to talk about religion, and to\nendeavor to beguile and divide priests who have consecrated their\nlives to him. You assert that, if they dared to disclose their\nconvictions, they would own themselves democrats. Do you know what our\nvillage priests would tell you if they were to make disclosures to\nyou? They would inform you that in every hamlet is to be found a\nhandful of petty rhetoricians, tavern orators, fellows who lead\nmunicipal councils, who drive away the Christian Brothers and Sisters\nof Charity, and do their best to deprive the curate of the small\npittance without which he cannot subsist, who forbid teachers to take\nchildren to Mass, refuse to have churches repaired that need it most,\nrecommend mutual-guarantee-association marriages and burials, and know\nno better way of serving a republic than by hating priests and by\npersevering in a low and silly infidelity. Now, in every village these\nvery rhetoricians are your friends.\n\nIt is with their assistance that you contemplate establishing that\neducation, \u201cnational and truly modern,\u201d in which, in order to teach\nchildren \u201ctheir duties as citizens, to excite in them ideas of\nsacrifice, of devotion to country, to make out of them an\nunemasculated race,\u201d you will have not only to avoid speaking to them\nof God and of _Providence_, but besides to combat and root out of their\nminds the idea of _Providence_, and, in fine, to force upon French\nyouth a _teaching without religion_, and a moral instruction without\nGod.\n\nWell, would you have me tell you what such education will turn out for\nyou? Instead of rearing men, it will give us monsters, and a learned\nbarbarism, armed with abundant means of destruction, barbarism in the\nheart and in manner--in a word, just what we have witnessed during the\nreign of the Commune; young men and girls from eighteen to\ntwenty-three years old ruling Paris and destroying it by incendiarism;\nand, lo, it is after having witnessed such scenes of horror and the\nlessons which they teach, that you have nevertheless ventured to\ndeliver the address to which I am replying, and your audience went so\nfar as to applaud your words!\n\nIn my view, this latter fact is an indication of the disorder in which\nat this very moment we still are. No, the end of France\u2019s afflictions\nis not yet!\n\nBut I have said enough, sir. I have sought, as the only reply to your\nharangue, to put facts in opposition to words. I have sought, while\nreplying to you, to defend the church; and I think I have at the same\ntime defended public peace. In theory, as against this or that\ngovernment, neither my faith, my reason, nor my patriotism would raise\ngreat objections, were it not that I have seen your party at work, and\nthat my sight is still filled with those sombre scenes, and my memory\nwith the recollection of your deeds. In vain do you try to cover them\nover with clever words and honeyed insinuations. My knowledge of the\npreacher spoils the effect of the sermon on me. And my recollection of\nthe whilom dictator puts me on my guard against the impressiveness of\nthe candidate who is aspiring not to establish liberty, as he\npretends, but to destroy religion and to get into power. You are not\nan apostle, you are a pretender. _The republic is I!_--that is your\nprogramme and the sole object of your discourse. Well! depend upon it,\nFrance has a republican government now, the need of a change to another,\neven though accompanied with the advantage of having you for its          857\npresident, is not at all felt.\n\nPlease accept, sir, with the expression of my regret to be compelled\nto thus combat you, that of the sentiments of respect which, as your\ncolleague, I have the honor to offer you.\n\n  [Illustration: Maltese Cross] FELIX, Bishop of Orleans,\n                      Deputy at the National Assembly for the\n                               Department of Loiret.\n\n\n     [162] The H\u00f4tel de Ville is the seat of head municipal\n     authority for the city of Paris; the _mairies_ are the\n     subordinate seats of local authority for the arrondissements\n     into which Paris is divided.--TRANSLATOR.\n\n\n\n                             ----------\n\n\n\n\n                          NEW PUBLICATIONS.\n\n\n  THE ARIANS OF THE FOURTH CENTURY. By John Henry Newman, formerly\n    Fellow of Oriel College. Third Edition. London: E. Lumley. For\n    sale by The Catholic Publication Society, New York.\n\nThis work was written in 1832, and saw the light in the following\nyear. The author had already made his mark in Oxford as a keen and\ndeep thinker, as a scholar of wide and accurate erudition, and as a\nclear and vigorous writer. He was a prominent leader in the Oxford or\nPuseyite movement, and was, as we know from his _Apologia_, a stanch\nAnglican. The work, looked for at the time with interest, was received\nas fully equal to the high reputation of the author. Its singularly\nlucid treatment of a subject involving the most abstruse questions of\nancient theological controversy, as well as the intricate and shifting\nphases of a very eventful period of ecclesiastical history, was a\nvaluable addition to English theological literature. The author had\nevidently thrown his soul into the work. The history he was treating\nseemed to him to present many points of parallelism to their own\nliving struggle in the Anglican Church. The Anom\u0153ans and kindred Arian\nsects were representatives of the Socinianism which had reached even\nthe highest dignities, and the rationalism and humanitarianism which\nwere beginning to spread among the clergy and the laity of its fold.\nThe Semiarians with their compromises and varying phrases and formulas\nof faith, which might mean much or little, as each one chose to\nunderstand them, were equally good representatives of the modern Broad\nChurch compromisers. The Eusebians, ever seeking to bask in the\nimperial favor, and to guide or to wield the civil power for their own\ninterests, were the type of the modern Erastians, who look for nothing\nhigher than an act of parliament or an exercise of the royal\nsupremacy. And the continual assumption of ecclesiastical authority by\nthe Arian and Semiarian emperors in the fourth century, and their\noften tyrannical action towards faithful bishops and clergy, who would\nnot give to C\u00e6sar the things that are God\u2019s, made the Puseyites think\nof the enthralled condition of their \u201cown branch,\u201d in which the\nsovereign claims and exercises the exclusive right of appointing the\narchbishops and bishops, and of deciding finally all questions of\ndoctrine, discipline, or church law, and without whose sanction\nconvocations cannot meet, nor synods be held or pass decrees. In the\nfourth century, the church, though long and sorely pressed, ever\nstruggled on, and finally succeeded in vindicating her own liberty,\nand casting the heresy out of her fold. It was hoped that the example\nmight teach them how their English Church might similarly struggle and\neventually triumph.\n\nA few years sufficed to convince Dr. Newman that such hopes were futile,  858\nand that his position was false. He and others sought refuge in the\nfold of the true church. Meanwhile, within the Anglican Church, the\nsuccessive decisions in the Gorham case and in several other cases\nthat have since come before the Privy Council, show that the evils he\nlamented and feared have increased in strength, while the power of\nopposing them has grown gradually weaker.\n\nThe present is a third edition of the work under the care of the\nauthor; we can scarcely say, revised by him. German professors, in\npublishing successive editions of their works on any subject to which\nthey devote continuous study, have no scruple in retracting,\ncancelling, or directly confuting what they had previously published,\nas often as they may be led to change their opinions on material\npoints, so much so that you must be sure you have the right edition\nbefore you can quote it. We turned to this edition to see if Dr.\nNewman had followed such a course. He has not. With him, _litera scripta\nmanet_. The book is the same now as when it first appeared. In a few\ninstances he changes the structure of a sentence, that his thought may\nstand out more clearly. He has added a few more references in the\nfoot-notes, scrupulously indicating such additions by enclosing them\nin brackets. He has enlarged the table of contents at the beginning\nand the chronological table at the end of the volume. No change has\nbeen made affecting the opinions, sentiments, or speculations of the\noriginal edition. There are expressions which now, of course,\ndisplease him as a Catholic; but he lets them hold their place. He has\ncast out only two sentences, as needlessly put in originally, and even\nthese he has, in signal humility, pilloried, as it were, in a page by\nthemselves at the end of the appendix. This appendix, at the close of\nthe volume, is mostly made up of extracts from subsequent works of his\nown, and are intended to throw further light on several points touched\non in the original work.\n\nThe volume presents an admirable critical, theological, and historical\nsummary of the whole Arian controversy in the fourth century, and was\na turning-point in English Protestant literature on the subject. Dr.\nNewman was the first to establish what has since been generally\naccepted, that Arianism was connected, historically and\nintellectually, with the Judaic Aristotelic schools of thought\nprevailing at Antioch and through Asia Minor, and not, as had been\npreviously held by many, with the Platonic schools of Alexandria.\n\nThe work deserves and will amply reward a careful study. The Catholic\nreader will, of course, find himself in something of a Protestant\natmosphere. The authority and action of the Roman Pontiffs is scarcely\nglanced at. Twice or thrice reference is made to the important support\nwhich the Roman See gave to St. Athanasius, and to the determined\nresistance which honorably distinguishes the primitive Roman Church in\nits dealing with heresy, and the ground is taken that the acute and\nsophistical training of the Eastern intellects led them to indulge in\nabstruse distinctions and discussions which the calmer and more\npractical minds of the Western Church entered into with difficulty,\nand could scarcely express in their Latin tongue, so much less pliable\nthan the Greek. Theologically speaking, as well as historically, the\ncontroversy in the fourth century was Eastern, rather than Latin.\nStill, we are sure that, were Dr. Newman to write afresh this history,\nnow that he is a Catholic, the important part acted by the Roman\nPontiffs would be more strongly set forth. Writing as a Protestant, he\nwas sufficiently emphatic on the case of Liberius--so much so that he\nhas added a footnote to say that there is a difference among writers      859\nwhich was the Sirmian formula that Liberius subscribed; and the\nappendix further shows that there is also a discrepancy as to the\nnumber and the chronological order of the various formulas, and that\nin some cases alterations and additions were subsequently made in the\noriginal text. It might also be added that there are grave reasons for\ndoubting the fact of any such subscription by Liberius, inasmuch as\nthe charge seems to have been first put forth by heated\ncontroversialists long after his death, and is scarcely reconcilable\nwith the undoubted facts of his life after the date of the alleged\nsubscription.\n\nHere and there the Catholic will meet phrases implying or stating some\nspecial Anglican view or Protestant principle. To all these Dr.\nNewman\u2019s present position is a practical and sufficient refutation. In\nthe clear and lucid arrangement of the topics, in accurate and subtile\ntracing of the various and varying forms of the Arian heresy, and in\nthe vivid portraying of that greatest and most earnest battle in the\nearly life of the church, the work is worthy of Dr. Newman, and claims\na place in every theological library.\n\n\n  MEMOIR OF ULRIC DAHLGREN. By his Father, Rear-Admiral Dahlgren.\n    Philadelphia: J. B. Lippincott & Co. 1872.\n\nThough war, in whatever light we may view it, cannot but be considered\na national calamity, it must be admitted that it has a tendency to\ngenerate certain mental and social qualities which are unknown or of\nslow growth in civil life. Personal courage, disinterested friendship,\nand patient self-sacrifice, no mean qualities in themselves, are\ndoubly valuable when enlisted in the cause of one\u2019s country on the\nside of law and justice, and hence we consider the soldier, no matter\nwhat may be his rank, who bravely and intelligently risks and loses\nhis life in defence of his nation\u2019s integrity, deserving of a high\nmeed of praise. Young Dahlgren, the subject of this memoir, was one\nof this character, and though he had scarcely attained the years of\nmanhood at the time of his death, in his attempt to liberate the Union\nprisoners in Richmond, in 1864, he had risen from civil life to the\nrank of colonel, and had repeatedly distinguished himself for his\nskill, tact, and heroism. The account of his short but eventful career\nwas written by his father, the late Admiral Dahlgren, and is now\npublished under the auspices of his stepmother, the gifted widow of\nthat naval hero. It is very minute in details, and composed with a\nrichness of coloring and a warmth of affection such as might be\nanticipated of a fond and gallant father in describing the deeds of a\nson in every way worthy of him. During his short military career,\nColonel Dahlgren made many friends, some of whom survive him, who will\nbe glad to be put in possession of the particulars of his brilliant\nand edifying career.\n\n\n  THE INTERNATIONALE--COMMUNISM. A Lecture by Rev. F. P. Garesche,\n    S.J., of St. Louis University. St. Louis: P. Fox. 1872.\n\nThis is a lecture both logical and eloquent. The learned Jesuit traces\nCommunism to Protestantism through materialism and false civilization.\nHe shows its horrid and dangerous nature, and administers a\nwell-merited castigation to that arch-agitator and firebrand of\nmischief, Wendell Phillips, who has made himself its apologist. All\npersons ought to read this, and especially those who pretend to call\nthemselves Catholics, and yet, by joining Masonic or other condemned\nsocieties, have renounced their allegiance to the church and become\naccomplices in the conspiracy against religion and society. Every good\nCatholic who reads it will have his horror deepened against this\nconspiracy in all its forms, and will learn what estimate is to be\nplaced on those who seek to palliate and extenuate doctrines and acts     860\nwhich have been condemned by the Holy See.\n\n\n  LENTEN SERMONS. By Paul Segneri, of the Society of Jesus. Vol. I.\n    12mo, pp. 361. New York: The Catholic Publication House,\n    9 Warren St.\n\nThis is a translation of a portion of the celebrated _Quaresimale_, or\ncourse of forty sermons for Lent, of Father Paul Segneri, S.J., who\nwas one of the most remarkable missionaries that the church has\nproduced, and also a man of great sanctity and austerity of life.\nThese discourses are models of eloquence, and lose but little of their\noriginal force by the translation, which is a very good one. They are\nfourteen in number; but it is intended that the remaining ones shall\nbe published, should the present volume meet with sufficient\nencouragement. They are admirable examples of what sermons for Lent,\nor for a mission, should be, and will be of great assistance to\nclergymen. They are now for the first time made easily accessible to\nthe American public. The volume is of a convenient size, and well\nprinted, and such as we can in every way commend to the attention of\nour readers.\n\n\n  THE SPOUSE OF CHRIST: Her Privileges and Her Duties. Vol. I. By the\n    author of _St. Francis and the Franciscans_, etc., etc. Boston:\n    Patrick Donahoe. 1872.\n\nThis is a volume of spiritual conferences or reading, specially\nintended for female religious. The piety and talent of its authoress\nare well known to the Catholic world. The present work has the\n_imprimatur_ of the Bishop of Kerry, accompanied by a handsome\ntribute to the writer.\n\n\n  THE VESSELS OF THE SANCTUARY: A Tale of Normandy.--THE\n    INHERITANCE. New York: D. & J. Sadlier & Co. 1872.\n\nTwo charming little stories, translated from the French. We can\nheartily recommend them as affording pleasant and instructive reading\nfor children.\n\n\n\u201cThe Catholic Publication Society\u201d has just published in _Tract_ form\nthe _Pastoral Letter_ of the Archbishops and Bishops of Ireland on the\nSchool Question. The price of this document is $3 00 per 100 copies.\nThe same Society will also publish in pamphlet form _Several Calumnies\nRefuted, or Executive Document No. 37_. This will also be sold at $3 00\nper 100. No less than 100 copies of either of these pamphlets will be\nsold at any one time.\n\n\u201cThe Catholic Publication Society\u201d has just issued a list of new books\nto be published by the Society this spring. It comprises fifteen books\naltogether. These are: _Lenten Lectures_, by Father Segneri; _The\nLiquefaction of the Blood of St. Januarius_; _Sermons on Ecclesiastical\nSubjects_, Vols. II. and III., by Archbishop Manning; _French Eggs,\nin an English Basket_; _Little Pierre, the Pedlar of Alsace_,\nillustrated by twenty-seven first class woodcuts; _Maggie\u2019s Rosary_;\n_Constance Sherwood_, by Lady Fullerton, illustrated; _The House of\nYorke_, with illustrations; _The Eighth Series of Sunday-School\nLibraries_, illustrated; _The Life and Letters of St. Francis Xavier_,\nby Rev. H. J. Coleridge, S.J.; _Madame de Chantal and Her Family_;\n_St. Jerome and his Correspondents_; _Bibliographia Catholica\nAmericana_, by Rev. J. M. Finotti--this book is published by\nsubscription; and _The Men and Women of the Protestant Reformation in\nEngland_. All these books, as soon as ready, will be announced in our\n_Literary Bulletin_, as well as all other new Catholic books published\nin this country or in England.\n\nMr. P. O\u2019shea, New York, announces as in press, _Lectures on the\nChurch_, by Rev. D. W. Merrick, S.J., of St. Francis Xavier\u2019s Church,\nNew York.\n\nReceived: _Landreth\u2019s Rural Register and Almanac_--1872. Published for\ngratuitious distribution. David Landreth & Son, 21 South Sixth St.,\nPhiladelphia, Pa.\n\n\n\n\n                        Transcriber\u2019s Note:\n\nVolume 14 contains six monthly issues of the publication. At the\nbottom of the first page of each issue is a notice that it was entered\ninto the Library of Congress. This notice was moved to follow the\nissue number and date.\n\nPage numbers are displayed in the right margin. Footnotes and anchors\nwere renumbered sequentially. The footnotes were moved to the end of\nthe article, poem, or item. There are three anchors for Footnote 113.\nWords and phrases in italics are surrounded by underscores, _like\nthis_.\n\nA column header key was added before the table on page 513 so that the\ndisplay of the table would fit many e-reader screens.\n\nUnprinted punctuation and accents, missing spaces between words, and\nmissing letters were added where appropriate. Duplicate letters and\nwords, where text continued from one line to the next, were removed.\nOn page 404, \u2018Pharao\u2019 was changed to \u2018Pharaoh\u2019 for consistency with\nother instances in the article. In the Contents, under the entry of\n\u2018Catholicity and Pantheism\u2019 the page number was changed from 829 to\n830. On page 504, the anchor for Footnote [110] is missing; it was\nadded where it may likely have belonged. On page 530, italic markup\nwas twice added to \u2018aqua fortis\u2019 for consistency with the remaining\ntext. Obsolete, archaic, and other misspelled words were not changed.","title":"The Catholic World, Vol. 14, October 1871-March 1872: A Monthly Magazine of General Literature and Science","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":500946}