{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_54377/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_54377","id":"gutenberg_54377","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/54377","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Journals","Category: Politics","Category: Religion/Spirituality","Catholic Church -- Periodicals"],"text":"THE\n                             CATHOLIC WORLD.\n\n                                    A\n                            MONTHLY MAGAZINE\n                                   OF\n                     GENERAL LITERATURE AND SCIENCE.\n\n                                VOL. XXI.\n                    APRIL, 1875, TO SEPTEMBER, 1875.\n\n                                NEW YORK:\n                     THE CATHOLIC PUBLICATION HOUSE,\n                            9 Warren Street.\n\n                                  1875.\n\n       Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1875, by\n                    THE CATHOLIC PUBLICATION SOCIETY,\n    in the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C.\n\n          JOHN ROSS & CO., PRINTERS, 27 ROSE STREET, NEW YORK.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS.\n\n\n    Anne of Cleves, 403.\n    Are You My Wife? 41, 162, 306, 451, 590, 742.\n\n    Blessed Nicholas von der Fl\u00fce, 836.\n    Blumisalpe, Legend of the, 285.\n    Brother Philip, 384, 509.\n\n    Calderon\u2019s Autos Sacramentales, 32, 213.\n    Cardinalate, The, 359, 472.\n    Charities, Specimen, 289.\n    \u201cChiefly Among Women,\u201d 324.\n    Craven\u2019s The Veil Withdrawn, 18.\n    Cross in the Desert, 813.\n\n    Daniel O\u2019Connell, 652.\n    Dr. Draper, 651.\n    Dom Gu\u00e9ranger and Solesmes, 279.\n    Dominique de Gourges, 701.\n    Draper\u2019s Conflict between Religion and Science, 178.\n\n    Early Annals of Catholicity in New Jersey, 565.\n    Education, The Rights of the Church over, 721.\n    Episode, An, 805.\n    Exposition of the Church in View of Recent Difficulties and\n      Controversies, and the Present Needs of the Age, 117.\n\n    First Jubilee, The, 258.\n    Fl\u00fce, Blessed Nicholas von der, 836.\n    Fragment, A, 628.\n    Future of the Russian Church, The, 61.\n\n    German Reichstag, The Leader of the Centrum in the, 112.\n    Gladstone\u2019s Misrepresentations, 145.\n    Greville and Saint-Simon, 266.\n    Gu\u00e9ranger and Solesmes, 279.\n\n    House of Joan of Arc, The, 697.\n\n    Ireland in 1874, A Visit to, 765.\n    Irish Tour, 497.\n\n    Joan of Arc, The House of, 697.\n    Jubilee, The First, 258.\n\n    Kentucky Mission, Origin and Progress of the, 825.\n\n    Ladder of Life, The, 715.\n    Lady Anne of Cleves, 403.\n    Leader of the Centrum in the German Reichstag, The, 112.\n    Legend of Friar\u2019s Rock, The, 780.\n    Legend of the Blumisalpe, 285.\n    Legend of the Rhine, A, 541.\n    Lourdes, Notre Dame de, 682.\n    Lourdes, On the Way to, 368, 549.\n\n    Maria Immacolata of Bourbon, 670.\n    Modern Literature of Russia, The, 250.\n\n    New Jersey, Early Annals of Catholicity in, 565.\n    Notre Dame de Lourdes, 682.\n\n    Odd Stories--Kurdig, 139.\n    O\u2019Connell, Daniel, 652.\n    Old Irish Tour, An, 497.\n    On the Way to Lourdes, 368, 549.\n    Origin and Progress of the Kentucky Mission, 825.\n\n    Persecution in Switzerland, The, 577.\n    Philip, Brother, 384, 509.\n    Pius IX. and Mr. Gladstone\u2019s Misrepresentations, 145.\n\n    Religion and Science, 178.\n    Religion in Our State Institutions, 1.\n    Rhine, A Legend of the, 541.\n    Rights of the Church over Education, The, 721.\n    Roman Ritual, The, and its Chant, 415, 527, 638.\n    Russia, The Modern Literature of, 250.\n\n    Saint-Simon and Greville, 266.\n    Scientific Goblin, The, 849.\n    Space, 433, 614, 790.\n    Specimen Charities, 289.\n    Stray Leaves from a Passing Life, 68, 200, 341, 486.\n    Substantial Generations, 97, 234.\n    Switzerland, The Persecution in, 577.\n\n    Tondini\u2019s Russian Church, 61.\n    Tragedy of the Temple, The, 84, 223.\n\n    Ultraism, 669.\n\n    Veil Withdrawn, The, 18.\n    Visit to Ireland in 1874, A, 765.\n\n    \u201cWomen, Chiefly Among,\u201d 324.\n\n\nPOETRY.\n\n    Art and Science, 637.\n    Assumption, The, 848.\n\n    Bath of the Golden Robin, The, 159.\n    Blind Beggar, The, 305.\n\n    Coffin Flowers, 589.\n    Corpus Christi, 450.\n\n    Dunluce Castle, 789.\n\n    Happy Islands, The, 852.\n    Horn Head, 485.\n\n    I am the Door, 222.\n    In Memoriam, 83.\n    In Memory of Harriet Ryan Albee, 414.\n\n    Little Bird, A, 564.\n\n    March, 31.\n\n    On a Charge Made after the Publication of a Volume of Poetry, 340.\n\n    Sonnet, 700.\n    Spring, 96.\n    Submission, 526.\n\n    Why Not? 548.\n\n\nNEW PUBLICATIONS.\n\n    Adhemar de Belcastel, 428.\n    Archbishop, The, of Westminster\u2019s Reply to Mr. Gladstone, 142.\n\n    Balmes\u2019 Criterion, 428.\n    Be not Hasty in Judging, 428.\n    Biographical Readings, 859.\n    Boone\u2019s Manual of the Blessed Sacrament, 570.\n    Brann\u2019s Politico-Historical Essay, etc., 859.\n    Breakfast, Lunch, and Tea. 719.\n    Bridgett\u2019s Our Lady\u2019s Dowry, 288.\n    Bulla Jubil\u00e6i, 1875, 288.\n\n    Catholic Premium-Book Library, 720.\n    Child, The, 573.\n    Classens\u2019 Life of Father Bernard, 429.\n    Coffin\u2019s Caleb Krinkle, 144.\n    Coleridge\u2019s The Ministry of S. John Baptist, 143.\n    Cortes\u2019 Essays, 431.\n    Craven\u2019s The Veil Withdrawn, 143.\n\n    Deharbe\u2019s A Full Catechism of the Catholic Religion, 576.\n    De Mille\u2019s The Lily and the Cross, 143.\n    Donnelly\u2019s Domus Dei, 431.\n    Droits de Dieu, Les, et les Id\u00e9es Modernes, 855.\n    Dunne\u2019s Our Public Schools, etc., 429.\n    Dupanloup\u2019s The Child, 573.\n\n    Eggleston\u2019s How to make a Living, 430.\n    Essays on Catholicism, Liberalism, and Socialism, 431.\n\n    Fessler\u2019s True and False Infallibility, 141, 428.\n    First Christmas, The, 859.\n    Full Catechism of the Catholic Religion, A, 576.\n    Fullerton\u2019s Life of Father Henry Young, 143.\n    Fullerton\u2019s Seven Stories, 288.\n    Fullerton\u2019s The Straw-Cutter\u2019s Daughter, etc., 430.\n\n    Gahan\u2019s Sermons for Every Day in the Year, etc., 576.\n    Gross\u2019 Tract on Baptism, 428.\n\n    Hedley\u2019s (Bishop) The Spirit of Faith, 576, 716.\n    Herbert\u2019s Wife, 719.\n    Higginson\u2019s Brief Biographies, 429.\n    History of England, Abridged, 720.\n\n    Internal Mission of the Holy Ghost, The, 426.\n    Irish World, The, 421.\n\n    Kostka, S. Stanislaus, The Story of, 859.\n\n    Lambing\u2019s The Orphan\u2019s Friend, 430.\n    Life of Father Henry Young, 143.\n    Life of Father Bernard, 429.\n    Life of Our Lord Jesus Christ, 571.\n    Lingard\u2019s History of England, Abridged. 720.\n\n    McQuaid\u2019s (Bishop) Lecture on the School Question, etc., 429.\n    Madame de Lavalle\u2019s Bequest, 719.\n    Manning\u2019s (Archbishop) Reply to Mr. Gladstone, 142, 428.\n    Manning\u2019s (Archbishop) The Internal Mission of the Holy Ghost, 426.\n    Manual of the Blessed Sacrament, 570.\n    Mary, Star of the Sea, 427.\n    Memoirs of General William T. Sherman, 856.\n    Ministry of S. John Baptist, 143.\n    Montagu\u2019s (Lord Robert) Reply to Mr. Gladstone, 142.\n    Moore\u2019s and Jerdan\u2019s Personal Reminiscences, 287.\n\n    Newman\u2019s Postscript to a Letter to the Duke of Norfolk, 287.\n\n    Old Chest, The, 430.\n    O\u2019Reilly\u2019s The Victims of the Mamertine, 576.\n    Orphan\u2019s Friend, The, 430.\n    Our Lady\u2019s Dowry, 288.\n    Our Public Schools, etc., 429.\n    Ozanam\u2019s Land of the Cid, 576.\n\n    Postscript to a Letter to the Duke of Norfolk, 287.\n\n    Readings from the Old Testament, 288.\n\n    Sherman, General William T., Memoirs of, 856.\n    Shields\u2019 Religion and Science, 716.\n    Spalding\u2019s Young Catholic\u2019s Sixth Reader, 286.\n    Spirit of Faith, The, 576, 716.\n    Stewart\u2019s Biographical Readings, 859.\n    Story of a Convert, The, 430.\n    Story of S. Stanislaus Kostka, 859.\n    Straw-Cutter\u2019s Daughter, etc., 430.\n    Syllabus for the People, The, 286.\n\n    Thi\u00e9blin\u2019s Spain and the Spaniards, 574.\n    Thompson\u2019s Paparchy and Nationality, 428.\n    Tract for the Missions, on Baptism, 428.\n    True, The, and the False Infallibility of the Popes, 141, 428.\n    Tyler\u2019s Discourse on Williston, 572.\n\n    Ullathorne\u2019s (Bishop) Reply to Mr. Gladstone, 142.\n\n    Vatican Decrees, The, and Civil Allegiance, 428.\n    Vaughan\u2019s (Bishop) Reply to Mr. Gladstone, 142.\n    Veil Withdrawn, The, 143.\n    Vercruysses\u2019 New Practical Meditations, 718.\n    Veuillot\u2019s The Life of Our Lord Jesus Christ, 571.\n    Victims of the Mamertine, The, 576.\n\n    Wann spricht die Kirche unfehlbar? etc., 720.\n    Warren\u2019s Physical Geography, 718.\n    Wenham\u2019s Readings from the Old Testament, 288.\n    Wilson\u2019s Poems, 144.\n    Whitcher\u2019s The Story of a Convert, 430.\n\n    Young Catholic\u2019s Fifth and Sixth Readers, 286.\n    Young Ladies\u2019 Illustrated Reader, The, 860.\n\n\n\n\nTHE CATHOLIC WORLD.\n\nVOL. XXI., No. 121.--APRIL, 1875.\n\nEntered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1875, by Rev. I. T.\nHECKER, in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C.\n\n\nRELIGION IN OUR STATE INSTITUTIONS.\n\n    \u201cNo member of this State shall be disfranchised or deprived\n    of any of the rights or privileges secured to any citizens\n    thereof, unless by the law of the land or the judgment of his\n    peers.\u201d\n\n    \u201cThe free exercise and enjoyment of religious profession and\n    worship, without discrimination or preference, shall for ever\n    be allowed in this State to all mankind.\u201d--_Constitution of the\n    State of New York_, Art. i. Sects. 1 and 3.\n\nThe first article of all the old English charters which were embodied in,\nand confirmed by, the Great Charter wrung from King John, was, \u201cFirst\nof all, we wish the church of God to be free.\u201d In the days when those\ncharters were drawn up there was no dispute as to which was \u201cthe church\nof God.\u201d The religious unity of Christendom had not yet been reformed\ninto a thousand contending sects, each of which was a claimant to the\ntitle of \u201cthe church of God.\u201d The two sections of our own constitution\nquoted from above, which establish in their fullest sense the civil and\nreligious liberty of the individual, are taken from those grand old\ncharters of Catholic days. The only thing practically new in them is\nthe substitution, for the \u201cchurch of God,\u201d of \u201cthe free exercise and\nenjoyment of religious profession and worship, without discrimination\nor preference.\u201d The reason for this alteration is plain. Civil liberty\nis impossible without religious liberty. But here the founders of our\nconstitution were confronted with a great difficulty. To follow out\nthe old Catholic tradition, and grant freedom to the \u201cchurch of God,\u201d\nwas impossible. There were so many \u201cchurches of God,\u201d antagonistic to\none another, that to pronounce for one was to pronounce against all\nothers, and so establish a state religion. This they found themselves\nincompetent to do. Accordingly, leaving the title open, complete freedom\nof religious profession and worship was proclaimed as being the only\nthing commensurate with complete civil liberty and that large, generous,\nyet withal safe freedom of the individual which forms the corner-stone of\nthe republic.\n\nThis really constitutes what is commonly described as the absolute\nseparation of church and state, on which we are never weary of\ncongratulating ourselves. It is not that the state ignores the church\n(or churches), but that it recognizes it in the deepest sense, as a\npower that has a province of its own, in the direction of human life\nand thought, where the state may not enter--a province embracing\nall that is covered by the word religion. This is set apart by the\nstate, voluntarily, not blindly; as a sacred, not as an unknown and\nunrecognized, ground, which it may invade at any moment. It is set apart\nfor ever, and as long as the American Constitution remains what it\nis, will so remain, sacred and inviolate. Men are free to believe and\nworship, not only in conscience, but in person, as pleases them, and no\nstate official may ever say to them, \u201cWorship thus or thus!\u201d\n\nWords would be wasted in dwelling on this point. There is not a member\nof the state who has not the law, as it were, born in his blood. No man\never dreams of interfering with the worship of another. Catholic church\nand Jewish tabernacle and Methodist meeting-house nestle together side\nby side, and their congregations come and go, year in year out, and\nworship, each in its own way, without a breath of hindrance. Conversion\nor perversion, as it may be called, on any side is not attempted, save\nat any particular member\u2019s good-will and pleasure. Each may possibly\nentertain the pious conviction that his neighbor is going directly to\nperdition, but he never dreams of disputing that neighbor\u2019s right of\nway thither. And the thought of a state official or an official of any\ncharacter coming in and directly or indirectly ordering the Catholics\nto become Methodists, or the Methodists Jews, or the Jews either, is\nsomething so preposterous that the American mind can scarcely entertain\nit. Yet, strange as it is painful to confess, just such coercion of\nconscience is carried on safely, daily and hourly, under our very noses,\nby State or semi-state officials. Ladies and gentlemen to whom the State\nhas entrusted certain of its wards are in the habit of using the powers\nbestowed on them to restrain \u201cthe free exercise of religious profession\nand worship,\u201d and not simply to restrain it, but to compel numbers\nof those under their charge to practise a certain form of religious\nprofession and worship which, were they free agents, they would never\npractise, and against which their conscience must revolt.\n\nThis coercion is more or less generally practised in the prisons,\nhospitals, reformatories, asylums, and such like, erected by the State\nfor such of its members or wards as crime or accident have thrown on\nits hands. Besides those mainly supported by the State, there are many\nother institutions which volunteer to take some of its work off the hands\nof the State, and for which due compensation is given. In short, the\nmajority of our public institutions will come within the scope of our\nobservations. And it may be as well to premise here that our observations\nare intended chiefly to expose a wrong that we, as Catholics, feel keenly\nand suffer from; but the arguments advanced will be of a kind that may\nserve for any who suffer under a similar grievance, and who claim for\nthemselves or their co-religionists \u201cthe free exercise of religious\nprofession and worship, without discrimination or preference.\u201d If the\nviolation of this article of the constitution to-day favors one side\nunder our ever-shifting parties and platforms, it may to-morrow favor\nthe other. What we demand is simply that the constitution be strictly\nmaintained, and not violated under any cover whatsoever.\n\nThe inmates of our institutions may be divided into two broad classes,\nthe criminal and the unfortunate. From the very fact of their being\ninmates of the institutions both alike suffer certain deprivation of\n\u201cthe rights and privileges\u201d secured to them as citizens. In the case of\ncriminals those rights and privileges are forfeited. They are deprived of\npersonal liberty, because they are a danger instead of a support to the\nState and to the commonwealth. The question that meets us here is, does\nthe restriction of personal involve also that of religious liberty and\nworship?\n\nHappily, there is no need to argue the matter at any length, as it has\nalready been pronounced upon by the State; and as regards the religious\ndiscipline in prisons, our objection is as much against a non-application\nas a misapplication of the law. \u201cThe free exercise and enjoyment of\nreligious profession and worship\u201d is never debarred any man by the State.\nOn the contrary, it is not only enjoined, but, where possible, provided.\nEven the criminal who has fallen under the supreme sentence of the law,\nand whose very life is forfeit to the State, is in all cases allowed the\nfull and free ministry of the pastor of his church, whatever that church\nmay be. Nothing is allowed to interfere with their communion. Even the\nordinary discipline of the prison is broken into in favor of that power\nto which, from the very first, the State set a region apart. And it\nis only at the last moment of life that the minister, be he Catholic,\nMethodist, or Jew, yields to the hangman.\n\nIs it possible to think that the State, which, in the exercise of its\nlast and most painful prerogative, shows itself so wise, just, tender\neven, and profoundly religious--so true, above all, to the letter and\nthe spirit of the constitution--should, when the question concerns not\nthe taking, but the guarding, of the criminal\u2019s life, and, if possible,\nits guidance to a better end, show itself cruel, parsimonious, and a\npetty proselytizer? Does it hold that freedom of religious profession\nand worship is a privilege to be granted only to that superior grade of\ncriminal whose deeds have fitted him before his time for another world,\nand not to the lesser criminal or the unfortunate, who is condemned to\nthe burden of life, and who has it still within his power to make that\nlife a good and useful one? Such a question is its own answer. And yet\nthe system of religious discipline at present prevailing in many of our\nprisons, as in most of our institutions, would seem to indicate that\nthe State exhausts its good-will over murderers, and leaves all other\ninmates, in matters of religion, to the ministry of men in whom they do\nnot believe and creeds that they reject. A certain form of religious\ndiscipline is provided, which is bound to do duty for all the prisoners,\nJew and Gentile, Catholic and Protestant alike. If that is not good\nenough for them, they may not even do without it; for all are bound to\nattend religious worship, which, in the case of Catholic prisoners at\nleast--for we adhere to our main point--is beyond all doubt the severest\ncoercion of conscience. The worst Catholic in this world would never\nwillingly take part in the worship of any but his own creed. It is idle\nto ask whether some worship is not better for him than none at all. The\nfact remains that he does not believe in any other but his own church, in\nthe sacredness of any other ministry but his own, in the efficacy of any\nmeans of grace save those that come to him through the church of which he\nis a member. More than this, he knows that it is a sin not to approach\nthe sacraments and hear Mass, and that, without frequenting them, he\ncannot hope to lead a really good life. The perversion of discipline\nprevents him either hearing Mass or frequenting the sacraments, often\neven from seeing a priest at all.\n\nThere is no need to dwell on the fact that of all men in this world,\nthose who are in prison or in confinement stand most in need of constant\nspiritual aid and consolation. Indeed, in many cases the term of\nimprisonment would be the most favorable time to work upon their souls.\nThe efficacy of religion in helping to reform criminals is recognized by\nthe State in establishing prison chaplains, and even making attendance at\nworship compulsory. But this compulsion is not intended so much as an act\nof coercion of conscience as an opportunity and means of grace. As seen\nin the case of murderers, the State is only too happy to grant whatever\nspiritual aid it can to the criminal, without restriction of any kind.\n\nLaying aside, then, as granted, the consideration that spiritual ministry\nis of a reforming tendency in the case of those who come freely under\nits influence, we pass on at once to show where in our own State we are\nlamentably deficient and unjust in failing to supply that ministry.\n\nIn this State there are three State prisons: those of Sing Sing, Auburn,\nand Clinton. In no one of them is there proper provision for the\nspiritual needs of Catholic prisoners.\n\nThere are also in this State seven penitentiaries: Blackwell\u2019s Island,\nNew York; Kings County, Staten Island, Albany, Syracuse, Rochester,\nand Buffalo. Of these seven, in three only is Mass celebrated and the\nsacraments administered, viz., Blackwell\u2019s Island, Kings County, and\nAlbany.\n\nThe State boasts also of four reformatories: the Catholic Protectory,\nWestchester County; House of Refuge, New York; Juvenile Asylum, New York;\nWestern House of Refuge, Rochester. Of these, at the first named only is\nMass celebrated and the sacraments administered.\n\nThis is a very lamentable state of affairs, and one that ought to\nbe remedied as speedily as possible. It is being remedied in many\nplaces, for it prevails practically throughout the country. Catholics,\nunfortunately, add their quota to the criminal list, as to every grade\nand profession in life. But there is no reason why Catholic criminals\nalone should be debarred the means which is more likely than the\npunishment of the law to turn their minds and hearts to good--the\nsacraments and ministry of their church. But the fault, probably, in the\nparticular case of prisons, consists in the fact that the grievance has\nnot hitherto been fairly set before the authorities in whose hands the\nremedy lies. The application of the remedy, indeed, is chiefly a question\nof demand, for it consists in conformity to the constitution.\n\nThe Catholic Union of New York has been at pains to collect testimony on\nthis subject, and the testimony is unanimous as to the advisability of\nallowing Catholic prisoners free access to priests, sacraments, and Mass.\nIn Great Britain, where there really is a state religion, Catholic as\nwell as Protestant chaplains are appointed to the various prisons and\nreformatories, as also to the army and navy. In answer to an inquiry from\nthe Catholic Union respecting the system on which British reformatories\nare managed in regard to the religious instruction afforded to their\nCatholic inmates, the following letter was received:\n\n    \u201cOFFICE OF INSPECTOR OF REFORMATORY AND INDUSTRIAL SCHOOLS, NO.\n    3 DELAHAY STREET, December 7, 1874.\n\n    \u201cSIR: In reference to your letter of the 20th ultimo, I beg\n    to forward you a copy of the last report of the Inspector of\n    Reformatory and Industrial Schools.\n\n    \u201cYou will observe that almost all the schools are\n    denominational; one reformatory (the Northeastern) and one or\n    two industrial schools alone receiving both Protestant and\n    Roman Catholic children.\n\n    \u201cIn these cases the children of the latter faith are visited at\n    stated times by a priest of their own religion, and allowed to\n    attend service on Sundays in the nearest Catholic chapel.\n\n    \u201cThe Catholic schools are solely and entirely for Catholics.\n\n                   \u201cI am, sir, your faithful servant,\n\n                                                   \u201cWILLIAM COSTEKER.\n\n    \u201cDR. E. B. O\u2019CALLAGHAN.\u201d\n\nIn the British provinces on this continent the same system prevails.\nEqual religious freedom is guaranteed in all reformatories and prisons.\nIn the Province of Quebec, where the French population and Catholic\nreligion predominate, the system is the same. Throughout Europe it\nis practically the same. Rev. G. C. Wines, D.D., the accredited\nrepresentative of our government to the International Penitentiary\nCongress at London, in his report to the President, February 12, 1873,\ngave most powerful testimony on this point. A few extracts will suffice\nfor our purpose.\n\nIn England \u201cevery convict prison has its staff of ministers of religion.\nFor the most part, the chaplains are not permitted to have any other\noccupations than those pertaining to their office, thus being left free\nto devote their whole time to the improvement of the prisoners.\u201d\n\nIn Ireland, in this respect, \u201cthe regulations and usages of the convict\nprisons are substantially the same.\u201d\n\nIn France, in the smaller departmental prisons, \u201csome parish priest\nacts as chaplain.\u201d In the larger, as well as in all central prisons,\n\u201cthe chaplain is a regular officer of the establishment, and wholely\ndevoted to its religious service.\u201d \u201cLiberty of conscience is guaranteed\nto prisoners of all religions.\u201d If the prisoner, who must declare his\nfaith on entering, is not a Catholic, \u201che is transferred, whenever it is\npossible, to a prison designed to receive persons of the same religious\nfaith as himself.\u201d\n\nIn Prussia \u201cchaplains are provided for all prisons and for all religions.\nThey hold religious service, give religious lessons, inspect the prison\nschools,\u201d etc.\n\nIn Saxony \u201cthe religious wants of the prisoners are equally regarded and\ncared for, whatever their creed may be.\u201d\n\nIn W\u00fcrtemberg \u201cin all the prisons there are Protestant and Catholic\nchaplains. For prisoners of the Jewish faith there is similar provision\nfor religious instruction.\u201d\n\nIn Baden \u201cchaplains are provided for all prisons and for all religions.\u201d\n\nIn Austria, \u201cin the prisons of all kinds, chaplains and religious\nteachers are provided for prisoners of every sect.\u201d\n\nIn Russia \u201cin all the large prisons there are chapels and chaplains.\nPrisoners of all the different creeds receive the offices of religion\nfrom ministers of their own faith, even Jews and Mussulmans.\u201d\n\nIn the Netherlands, \u201cin all the central prisons, in all the houses of\ndetention, and in the greater part of the houses of arrest, the office\nof chaplain and religious services are confided to one of the parish\nministers of each religion, who is named by the Minister of Justice.\u201d\n\nIn Switzerland \u201cministers of the reformed and of the Catholic religion\nact as chaplains in the prisons. The rabbi of the nearest locality is\ninvited to visit such co-religionists as are occasionally found in them.\u201d\n\nIs it not sad, after testimony of this kind, to come back to our own\ncountry, and, with the law on the point so plain, to find the practice\nso wretchedly deficient? In New York State Mass is celebrated in three\npenitentiaries and one reformatory only, and that solitary reformatory is\ndenominational. It was only last year that a Mass was celebrated for the\nfirst time in a Boston prison, and a chaplain appointed to it. In Auburn\nprison a priest has only recently been allowed to visit the Catholic\nprisoners, hear confessions, and preach on Sunday afternoons. But the\nprisoners are compelled to attend the Protestant services also.\n\nIn the State prison at Dannemora, Clinton Co., N. Y., where a Catholic\nchaplain has only of late been appointed, the prisoners hear Mass but\nonce a month.\n\nIn the Western House of Refuge, a branch house of an establishment in\nthis city, to which attention will be called presently, it was only\nafter a severe conflict[1] that in December of last year permission was\ngranted \u201cto Catholic and all ministers\u201d of free access to the asylum \u201cto\nconduct religious exercises, etc.,\u201d and that Catholic children be no\nlonger compelled \u201cto attend what is called \u2018non-sectarian\u2019 services.\u201d\nSuch testimony might be multiplied all over the country. Indeed, as far\nas our present knowledge goes, the State of Minnesota is the only State\nwherein \u201cliberty of conscience and equal rights in matters of religion to\nthe inmates of State institutions\u201d have been secured, and they were only\n_secured_ by an act approved March 5, 1874.\n\nCatholics are content to believe that the main difficulty in the way\nof affording Catholic instruction to the Catholic inmates of such\ninstitutions has hitherto rested with themselves. Either they have\nnot sufficiently exposed the grievance they were compelled to endure,\nor, more likely, such exposure was useless, inasmuch as the paucity\nof priests prevented any being detailed to the special work of the\nprisons and public institutions. This, too, is probably the difficulty\nin the army and navy of the United States, which boast of two Catholic\nchaplains in all, and those two for the army only. But the growth of\nour numbers, resources, dioceses, and clergy is rapidly removing any\nfurther obstruction on that score; so that there is no further reason\nwhy Catholic priests should not be allowed to attend to and--always, of\ncourse, at due times--perform the duties of their office for inmates of\ninstitutions who, by reason of their confinement, are prevented from the\nfree exercise of their religious profession and worship laid down and\nguaranteed in the constitution to all mankind for ever.\n\nBut over and above the strictly criminal class of inmates of our State\ninstitutions there is another, a larger and more important class, to be\nconsidered--that already designated as unfortunate. Most of its members,\nprevious to their admission into the institutions provided for their\nkeeping, have hovered on that extreme confine where poverty and crime\ntouch each other. Many of them have just crossed the line into the latter\nregion. Inmates of hospitals and insane asylums will come, without\nfurther mention, within the scope of our general observations. Our\nattention now centres on those inmates of State or public institutions\nwho, for whatever reasons, in consequence either of having no home or\ninadequate protection at home, are thrown absolutely upon the hands of\nthe State, which is compelled in some way or other to act towards them\n_in loco parentis_. In the majority of cases there is hope that they may\nby proper culture and care be converted, from a threatened danger to the\nState, to society at large, and to themselves, into honest, creditable,\nand worthy citizens.\n\nThis class, composed of the youth of both sexes, instead of diminishing,\nseems, with the spread of population, to be on the increase. From its\nranks the criminal and pauper classes, which are also on the increase,\nare mainly recruited. The criminal, in the eye of the law, who has led\na good life up to manhood or womanhood, is the exception. Crime, as\nrepresentative of a class, is a growth, not a sudden aberration. It is,\nthen, a serious and solemn duty of the State to cut off this criminal\ngrowth by converting the class who feed it to good at the outset. At the\nvery lowest estimate it is a duty of self-preservation. This being so,\nthere is no need to dwell on the plain fact that it is the duty of the\nState to do all that in it lies to lead the lives of those unfortunates\nout of the wrong path into the right. Every means at its disposal ought\nto be worked to that end. There is still less reason to dwell on the\nfact, acknowledged and recognized by the State and by all men, that, in\nleading a life away from evil and up to good, no influence is so powerful\nas that of religion. The fear of man, of the power and vengeance of the\nlaw, is undoubtedly of great force; but it is not all, nor is it the\nstrongest influence that can be brought to bear on the class indicated,\nnot yet criminal. At the best it represents to their minds little more\nthan the whip of the slave-driver--something to be feared, but something\nalso to be hated, and to be defied and broken where defiance may for\nthe time seem safe. But the moral sense, the sense of right and wrong,\nof good and evil, which shows law in its true guise as the benignant\nrepresentative of order rather than the terror of disorder, is a higher\nguide, a truer teacher, and a more humane and lasting power.\n\nThis sense can only come with religion; and so convinced is the State\nof this fact that, as usual, it calls in religion to its aid, and over\nits penitentiaries and reformatories sets chaplains. It goes further\neven, and, as in prisons, compels the inmates of such institutions to\nattend religious services, practise religious observances, and listen to\nreligious instruction. There is no State reformatory--it is safe to say\nno reformatory at all--without such religious worship and instruction.\n\nThis careful provision for the spiritual wants of so extensive and\nimportant a class we of course approve to the full. The idea of a\nreformatory where no religious instruction is given the inmates would be\na contradiction. The State empowers those into whose hands it entrusts\nthe keeping of its wards to impart religious instruction--in short, to do\neverything that may tend to the mental, moral, and physical advancement\nof those under their charge. All that we concede and admire. But the\nState never empowers those who have the control of such institutions to\ndraw up laws or rules for them which should in any way contravene the law\nof the State, least of all that article of the constitution wherein the\nfree exercise of religious profession and worship, without discrimination\nor preference, is allowed to all mankind in this State for ever. But\nit is just in this most important point that our public institutions\nsignally fail.\n\nHere is our point: In our public institutions there is, in the case of\nCatholic inmates, a constant and persistent violation of the constitution\nof the State regarding freedom of religious profession and worship. In\nthose institutions there is a stereotyped system of religious profession\nand worship, which all the inmates, of whatever creed, are compelled to\naccept and observe. They have no freedom of choice in the matter. They\nmay not hold any religious intercourse with the pastors of their church,\nsave, in impossible instances, on that stereotyped plan. Practically,\nthey may not hold any such intercourse at all. Once they become inmates\nof these institutions, the freedom of religious profession and worship\nthat they enjoyed, or were at liberty to enjoy, before entering, is\ncompletely cut off, and a new form of religious profession and practice,\nwhich, whether they like it or not, whether they believe it or not, they\nare compelled to observe and accept as their religion until they leave\nthe institution, is substituted. No matter what name may be given this\nmode of worship and instruction, whether it be called \u201cnon-sectarian\u201d\nor not, it is a monstrous violation of human conscience, not to speak\nof the letter and the spirit of the constitution of this State. Its\nproper name would be the \u201cChurch Established in Public Institutions.\u201d\nFrom the day when a Catholic child crosses the threshold of such an\ninstitution until he leaves it, in most cases he is not allowed even to\nsee a Catholic clergyman; he is certainly not allowed to practise his\nreligion; he is not allowed to read Catholic books of instruction; he is\nnot allowed to hear Mass or frequent the sacraments. For him his religion\nis choked up and dammed off utterly, and his soul left dry and barren.\nNor does the wrong rest even here; for all the while he is exposed\nto non-Catholic influences and to a direct system of anti-Catholic\ninstruction and worship. He is compelled to bow to and believe in the\n\u201cChurch Established\u201d in the institution.\n\nThere is, unfortunately, a superabundance of evidence to prove all, and\nmore than all, our assertions. There will be occasion to use it; but\njust now we content ourselves with such as is open to any citizen of the\nState, and as is given in the _Reports_ of the various institutions.\nOf these we select one--the oldest in the State--the Society for the\nReformation of Juvenile Delinquents, which has this year published its\nfiftieth _Annual Report_. Within these fifty years of its life 15,791\nchildren, of ages ranging from five to sixteen, of both sexes, of native\nand foreign parentage, of every complexion of color and creed, have\npassed through its hands. The society has, on more than one occasion,\ncome before the public, more especially within the last two or three\nyears, in anything but an enviable light. But all considerations of that\nkind may pass for the present, our main inquiry being, What kind of\nreligion, of religious discipline, instruction, and worship, is provided\nfor the hundreds of children who year by year enter this asylum?\n\nThe \u201cCircular to Parents and Guardians,\u201d signed by the president, Mr.\nEdgar Ketchum, sets forth the objects of the institution and the manner\nin which it is conducted. \u201cFor your information,\u201d says Mr. Ketchum to\nthe parents and guardians, \u201cthe managers deem it proper to state that\nthe institution is not a place of punishment nor a prison, but a reform\nschool, where the inmates receive such instruction and training as are\nbest adapted to form and perpetuate a virtuous character.\u201d An excellent\nintroduction! Nothing could be better calculated to allay any scruples\nthat an anxious parent or guardian might entertain respecting the\nabsolute surrender of a child or ward to the institution, \u201cto remain\nduring minority, or until discharged by the managers, as by due process\nof law.\u201d Of course the Catholic parent or guardian who receives such a\ncircular will have no question as to the \u201cinstruction and training best\nadapted to form and (above all) _to perpetuate a virtuous character_\u201d!\nThe training up of \u201ca virtuous character\u201d is, by all concession, mainly\na purely religious work, and the Catholic knows, believes in, and\nrecognizes only one true religion--that taught by the Catholic Church.\nWhether he is right or wrong in that belief is not the question. It is\nsufficient to know that the constitution recognizes and respects it.\n\nA few lines lower the Catholic parent or guardian receives still\nmore satisfactory information on this crucial point. After a glowing\ndescription of the life of the inmates, he is informed that they, \u201con the\nSabbath, are furnished with suitable religious and moral instruction.\u201d\nJust what is wanted by the child! \u201cSabbath,\u201d it is true, has come to\nhave a Protestant sound; but as for \u201csuitable religious and moral\ninstruction,\u201d there can be no doubt that the only religious instruction\nsuitable for a Catholic child is that of the Catholic religion, and such\nas would be given him outside in the Sunday-school by the Catholic priest\nor teacher. He is just as much a Catholic inside that institution as he\nwas outside; and there is no more right in law or logic to force upon\nhim a system of non-Catholic and anti-Catholic instruction within than\nwithout its walls. Let us see, then, of what this moral and religious\ninstruction consists; if Catholic, all our difficulties are over.\n\nTurning a few pages, we come to the \u201cReport of the Chaplain.\u201d _The_\nchaplain! The chaplain, then, is the gentleman charged with furnishing\n\u201con the Sabbath\u201d the \u201csuitable religious and moral instruction\u201d of the\nCatholic child. The chaplain is the Rev. George H. Smyth, evidently\na clergyman of some denomination. His name is not to be found in the\nCatholic directory. He is probably, then, not a Catholic priest. However,\nhis report may enlighten us.\n\nIt occupies five and a half pages, and renders an admirable account\nof--the Rev. George H. Smyth, who, to judge of him by his own report,\nmust be an exceedingly engaging person, and above all a powerful\npreacher. No doubt he is. He informs us that the children have shown,\namong other good qualities, \u201can earnest desire to receive instruction,\nboth secular and religious.\u201d That is cheering news. It is worthy of note,\ntoo, the distinction made between the secular and religious instruction\nof the children. That is just the Catholic ground. Children require\nboth kinds of instruction--instruction in their religion, as well as in\nreading, writing, ciphering, and so on. The Catholic parent or guardian\ncongratulates himself, then, on the fact that his child or ward will\nnot be deprived of instruction in his religion while an inmate of the\ninstitution. All satisfactory so far; but let us read Mr. Smyth a little\nmore.\n\n\u201cOften have the chaplain\u2019s counsel and sympathy been sought by those\nstriving to lead a better life.\u201d Very natural! \u201cAnd as often have they\nbeen cordially tendered.\u201d Still more natural. Then follow some pleasing\nreminiscences from the boys and girls of the chaplain\u2019s good offices. He\neven vouchsafes, almost unnecessarily, to inform us that \u201cthe children\nhave it impressed on them that the object of the preaching they hear is\nwholly to benefit them.\u201d It could not well be otherwise. And Mr. Smyth\u2019s\npreaching evidently does benefit them, for one of the boys remarked to\nhim, casually: \u201cChaplain, you remember that sermon you preached\u201d--neither\nthe sermon nor its text, unfortunately, is given--\u201cthat was the sermon\nthat led me to the Saviour.\u201d Happy lad! It is to be regretted that he\never came back. We are farther informed of \u201cthe close attention given\nby the children to the preaching of the Gospel Sabbath after Sabbath.\u201d\n\u201cOn one occasion a distinguished military gentleman and statesman--an\nambassador from one of the leading courts of Europe--was present. The\nsermon was from the text _Cleanse thou me from secret faults_.\u201d So\npowerful was Mr. Smyth\u2019s sermon on that occasion that the reverend\ngentleman graciously informs us it so moved the \u201cdistinguished military\ngentleman and statesman\u201d from Europe that at the close he rose, and,\n\u201ctaking the chaplain by the hand, said with great warmth of feeling,\n\u2018That sermon was so well suited to these children they must be better for\nit. I saw it made a deep impression upon them; but I rose to thank you\nfor myself--_it just suited me_.\u2019\u201d\n\nAnd there the story ends, leaving us in a painful state of conjecture\nrespecting the state of that \u201cdistinguished military gentleman and\nstatesman\u2019s\u201d conscience. These little incidents are thrown off with a\nna\u00efve simplicity almost touching, and are noticed here as they are given,\nas establishing beyond all doubt the clear and marked distinction in\nnature and grace between the Rev. Mr. Smyth and the dreadful characters,\nwhether ambassadors or youthful pickpockets, with whom Mr. Smyth is\nbrought in contact. But the main question for the Catholic parent or\nguardian is, What religious and moral instruction is my child to receive?\nFor it is clear that Mr. Smyth is not a Catholic clergyman. It seems\nthat Mr. Smyth being \u201c_the_ chaplain,\u201d there is no Catholic chaplain at\nall, and no Catholic instruction at all for Catholic children. Are the\nCatholic children compelled, then, to attend Mr. Smyth\u2019s preaching and\nMr. Smyth\u2019s worship, and nothing but Mr. Smyth, excellent man though he\nbe? Mr. Ketchum has already, in the name of the managers, informed us\nthat the institution is not \u201ca place of punishment.\u201d Far be it from us to\nhint, however remotely, that it is a punishment even _to be compelled_\nto listen to the preaching of such a man as Mr. Smyth. With the evidence\nbefore us, how could such a thought be entertained for a moment? But at\nleast how is this state of things reconcilable with that solemn article\nof the constitution already quoted so often?\n\nHowever, let us first dismiss Mr. Smyth, after ascertaining, if possible,\nwhat it is he does teach. Here we have it in his own words: \u201cThe truths\npreached to these children [all the inmates of the institution] have been\nthose fundamental truths held in common by all Christian communions, and\nwhich are adapted to the wants of the human race, and must ever be the\nfoundation of pure morals and good citizenship. Studious care has been\ntaken not to prejudice the minds of the inmates against any particular\nform of religious belief.\u201d\n\nHere lies the essence of what we have called the \u201cChurch Established\nin Public Institutions.\u201d The favorite term for it is \u201cnon-sectarian\u201d\nteaching; and on the ground that it is \u201cnon-sectarian,\u201d that it favors no\nparticular church or creed, but is equally available to all, it has thus\nfar been upheld and maintained in our public institutions. It is well to\nexpose the cant and humbug of this non-sectarianism once for all.\n\nIn the first place, no such thing exists. Let us adhere to the case in\npoint. Mr. Smyth, who is styled \u201creverend,\u201d is the chaplain of the\nsociety we are examining. What is the meaning of the word chaplain?\nA clergyman appointed to perform certain clerical duties. Mr. Smyth\nis a clergyman of some denomination or other, we care not what. He is\nnot a self-appointed \u201creverend.\u201d He must have been brought up in some\ndenomination and educated in some theological school. There is no such\nthing as a \u201creverend\u201d of no church, of a non-sectarian church. Every\nclergyman has been educated in some theological school, or at least\naccording to some special form of doctrine and belief, and has entered\nthe ministry as a teacher and preacher of that special form of belief\nand doctrine. If he leaves it, he leaves it either for infidelity--in\nwhich case he renounces his title as a clergyman--or for some other\nform of doctrine and belief to which he turns, and of which, so long\nas he remains in the ministry, he is the teacher, propagator, and\nupholder. If he is not this, he is a humbug. To say that he is or can be\nnon-sectarian--that is, pledged to preach no particular form of doctrine,\nor a form of doctrine equally available for all kinds of believers or\nnon-believers--is to talk the sheerest nonsense. In all cases a clergyman\nis, by virtue of his office and profession and belief, pledged to some\nform of doctrine and faith, which unless he teaches, he is either a\ncoward or a humbug. Anything resembling a \u201cnon-sectarian\u201d clergyman\nwould be exactly like a soldier who bound himself by oath to a certain\ngovernment, yet held himself free not to defend that government, or, when\nhe saw it attacked, to be particularly careful not to do anything that\nmight possibly offend or oppose the foe. The world and his own government\nwould stamp such a man as the vilest of beings--a traitor. The union of\nsuch diametrically opposite professions is a sheer impossibility.\n\nLet us test the doctrine Mr. Smyth himself lays down here, or which\nthe managers of the institution have laid down for him, and show how\nsectarianism, which is the one thing to be avoided, or, to use a kinder\nterm, denominationalism, must inevitably meet the teacher or preacher\nat every turn. \u201cThe truths preached to these children have been those\nfundamental truths held in common by all Christian communions.\u201d Mr. Smyth\nhas told us already that \u201cthe chaplain\u2019s counsel and sympathy are sought\nby those striving to lead a better life, and with good results.\u201d There\nmust, then, be questioning on the part of the children. Indeed, how could\ninstruction possibly go on without question, explanation, objection, and\nanswer? Let us begin, then, with the very foundation of his doctrine.\nThe first question that would occur to any one would be, What are \u201cthose\nfundamental truths held in common by all _Christian_ communions\u201d? Mr.\nSmyth does not mention one. Where shall we find one? A fundamental truth\nheld in common by all Christian communions might at least be supposed to\nbe a belief in Christ. Very well. Then who is Christ? Where is Christ?\nIs Christ God or man, or both? How do we come to know him? Is Christ not\nGod, is he not man? What is his history? Where is it found? In the Bible?\nWhat is the Bible? Who wrote the Bible? Why must we accept it as the\nWord of God? Is it the Word of God? Why \u201call Christian communions\u201d are\nat war right on this \u201cfundamental truth,\u201d from which they derive their\nvery name of Christian, and not a single question can be put or answered\nwithout introducing denominationalism of some kind or another, and so at\nleast prejudicing the minds of the inmates against _some_ particular form\nof religious belief.\n\nTake another supposition. Surely, belief in God would be \u201ca fundamental\ntruth held in common by all Christian communions.\u201d Here we begin again.\nWho is God? What is God? Where is God? Is God a spirit? Is God a trinity\nor a unity? Is there only one God? Do all men believe in and worship the\nsame God? All at sea again at the very mention of God\u2019s name!\n\nTake the belief in a future. Does man end here? Does he live again\nafter death? Will the future be happy or miserable? Is there a hell or\na heaven? Is there an everlasting life? What is Mr. Smyth\u2019s own opinion\non such \u201cfundamental truth\u201d? There is not a single \u201cfundamental truth\u201d\n\u201cheld in common by all Christian communions.\u201d What is truth itself?\nWhat is a fundamental truth? Fundamental to what? Why, there is not a\nsingle religious subject of any kind whatever that can be mentioned to\n\u201cChristian communions\u201d of a mixed character which will not on the instant\ncreate as many contentions as there are members of various Christian\ncommunions present. Let Mr. Smyth try it outside, and see. Let him preach\non \u201cfundamental truth\u201d to any mixed congregation in New York; let there\nbe free discussion after, and what would be the result? It is hard to\nsay. But in all probability the discussion would end by the State, in\nthe persons of its representatives, stepping in to eject the fundamental\ntruths from the building.\n\nOne need not go beyond this to show how necessarily sectarian must\nMr. Smyth\u2019s religious instruction and preaching be. But the very next\nsentence bristles with direct antagonism to Catholic teaching: \u201cWhat\ndelinquent children need is not the mere memorizing of ecclesiastical\nformularies and dogmas, which they can repeat one moment and commit a\ntheft the next.\u201d In plain English, Catholic children do not need to learn\ntheir catechism, which is the compendium of Christian doctrine. What is\nthe use of learning it, asks Mr. Smyth, when they can \u201ccommit a theft\nthe next moment\u201d? He had better go higher, and ask Christian members of\nCongress how they can address such pious homilies to interesting Young\nMen\u2019s Christian Associations, while they know they have been guilty\nof stealing. He might even ask the Rev. George H. Smyth how he could\nreconcile it with his conscience to take an oath or make a solemn promise\non entering the ministry to preach a certain form of doctrine, and\nprofess to throw that oath and promise to the winds immediately on being\noffered a salary to teach something quite different on Randall\u2019s Island.\n\u201cBut they do need, and it is the province of the State to teach them\nthat there are, _independent of any and all forms of religious faith_,\nfundamental principles of eternal right, truth, and justice, which, as\nmembers of the human family and citizens of the commonwealth, they must\nlearn to live by, and which are absolutely essential to their peace and\nprosperity. These principles are inseparable from a sound education, and\nmust underlie any and every system of religion that is not a sham and a\ndelusion.\u201d\n\nThat sounds very fine, and it is almost painful to be compelled to spoil\nits effect. One cannot help wondering in what theological school Mr.\nSmyth studied. He will insist on his \u201cfundamental principles,\u201d which, in\nthe preceding paragraph, are \u201ccommon to all Christian communions,\u201d but\nhave now become \u201cindependent of any and all forms of religious faith.\u201d Is\nthere any \u201cfundamental principle of _eternal_ right, truth, and justice\u201d\nwhich, to \u201cmembers of the human family,\u201d is \u201cindependent of any and all\nforms of _religious_ faith\u201d? Is there anything breathing of _eternity_ at\nall that comes not to us in and through \u201creligious faith\u201d? If there be\nsuch \u201cfundamental principles of eternal right, truth, and justice,\u201d in\nGod\u2019s name let us know them; for they _are_ religion, and we are ready\nto throw \u201cany and all forms of religious faith\u201d that contradict those\neternal principles to the winds. This we know: that there is not a single\n\u201cprinciple of _eternal_ right, truth, and justice\u201d which, according\nto Mr. Smyth, \u201cit is the province of the State to teach delinquent\nchildren,\u201d that did not come to the State through some form or another\nof religious faith; for in the history of this world religion has always\npreceded and, in its \u201cfundamental principles of eternal right, truth, and\njustice,\u201d instructed and informed the state. The Rev. George H. Smyth is\neither an infidel or he does not know of what he is writing.\n\nWhat kind of \u201cmoral and religious instruction\u201d is likely to be imparted\nto all children, and to Catholic children of all, by the Rev. George H.\nSmyth, may be judged from the foregoing. Whether or not his teaching\ncan approve itself to a Catholic conscience may be left to the judgment\nof all fair-minded men. His report is only quoted further to show how\ncompletely subject the consciences of all these children are to him:\n\n\u201cThe regular preaching service each Sabbath morning in the chapel has\nbeen conducted by the chaplain, one or more of the managers usually being\npresent; also, the Wednesday lecture for the officers. In the supervision\nof the Sabbath-schools in the afternoon he has been greatly aided by\nmanagers Ketchum and Herder, whose valuable services have been gratefully\nappreciated by the teachers and improved (_sic_) by the inmates.\n\n\u201c_The course of religious instruction laid down in the by-laws and\npursued in the house for fifty years has been closely adhered to._\u201d That\nis to say, for fifty years not a syllable of Catholic instruction has\nbeen imparted to the Catholic inmates of the House of Refuge. The number\nof those Catholic inmates will presently appear.\n\nAmong the gentlemen to whom the chaplain records his \u201cobligations\u201d for\ntheir gratuitous services in the way of lectures are found the names of\nnine Protestant clergymen and two Protestant laymen. No mention of a\nCatholic. The Sabbath-school of the Reformed Church, Harlem, is thanked\nfor \u201ca handsome supply\u201d of the _Illustrated Christian Weekly_. The\nlibrarian reports that one hundred copies of the _Youth\u2019s Companion_\nare supplied weekly, one hundred copies of the _American Messenger_,\nand one hundred and twenty-five copies of the _Child\u2019s Paper_. There is\nno mention of a Catholic print of any kind. The chaplain and librarian\nare under no obligations for copies of the _Young Catholic_, or the\nNew York _Tablet_, or the _Catholic Review_, or any one of our many\nCatholic journals. They are all forbidden. Yet they are not a whit more\n\u201csectarian\u201d than the _Christian Weekly_. In addition, the Bible Society\nis thanked \u201cfor a supply of Bibles sufficient to give each child a copy\non his discharge.\u201d\n\nWe turn now to the report of the principal of schools. It is chiefly an\nanti-Catholic tirade on the public school question, but that point may\npass for the present. What we are concerned with here is the species\nof instruction to which the Catholic children of the institution are\nsubjected. Mr. G. H. Hallock, the principal, is almost \u201cunco guid.\u201d\nA single passage will suffice. \u201cBut underneath all this intellectual\nawakening there is a grander work to be performed; there is a moral\nregeneration that can be achieved. Shall we stand upon the environs of\nthis moral degradation among our boys, and shrink from the duty we owe\nthem, because they are hardened in sin and apparently given over to evil\ninfluences? Would He who came to save the \u2018lost\u2019 have done this?\n\n\u201c_Nothing can supply the place of earnest, faithful religious teaching\ndrawn from the Word of God._ I have the most profound convictions of the\ninefficacy of all measures of reformation, except such as are based on\nthe Gospel and pervaded by its spirit. In vain are all devices, if the\nheart and conscience, beyond all power of external restraints, are left\nuntouched.\u201d\n\nIt were easy to go on quoting from Mr. Hallock, but this is more than\nenough for our purpose. Catholics too believe in the efficacy of the\nWord of God, but in a different manner, and to a great extent in a\ndifferent \u201cWord\u201d from that of Mr. Hallock. It is plain that this man\nis imbued with the spirit of a missionary rather than of a principal\nof schools, though how Catholic sinners would fare at his hands may be\njudged from the tone of his impassioned harangue. The missionary spirit\nis an excellent spirit, and we have no quarrel with Mr. Hallock or with\nhis burning desire to save lost souls; we only venture to intimate that\nMr. Hallock is even less the kind of teacher than Mr. Smyth is the kind\nof preacher to whom we should entrust the spiritual education of our\nCatholic children. By the bye, this excellent Mr. Hallock\u2019s name occurred\nduring the trial of Justus Dunn for the killing of Calvert, one of the\nkeepers of this very institution, in 1872. One of the witnesses in that\neventful trial, a free laborer in the house, testified on oath concerning\nthe punishment of a certain boy there:\n\n\u201c_Q._ What was the boy punished for?\n\n\u201c_A._ For not completing his task and not doing it well. He was reported\nfor this to the assistant-superintendent, Mr. Hallock. He (Mr. Hallock)\ncarried him down to the office by his collar, and there punished him\nfor about fifteen minutes with his cane, so that the blood ran down the\nboy\u2019s back; then the assistant-superintendent brought him back into the\nshop to his place, and there struck him on the side of the head, telling\nhim that if he did not do his work right, he would give him more yet.\nThen the boy cried out, \u2018For God\u2019s sake! I am not able to do it.\u2019 So he\ntook him by his neck, and carried him to the office, where he caned him\nagain. After that he brought the boy back to his place in the shop, and\ntreated him then as he did on the other occasion. The boy could not speak\na word after that. Then the assistant carried him down to the office,\nand caned him for the third time. After this caning the boy could not\ncome upstairs, so they took him to the hospital, where he died in about\nfour days. After his death a correspondent wrote a letter to the New York\n_Tribune_, stating the facts, and asking for an investigation, which took\nplace. The punishment of Mr. Hallock was his deposition from his office\nas assistant superintendent, and installation as teacher of the school.\nThe eye-witnesses of the occurrence were not examined, but the whole\nmatter was settled in the office of the institution.\u201d\n\nThis _en passant_. It is pleasing, after having read it, to be able to\ntestify to Mr. Hallock\u2019s excellent sentiments, as shown in the extract\nalready given from his report, which concludes in this touching fashion:\n\u201cWe are left to labor in the vineyard amid scenes sometimes discouraging,\nsevere, and depressing even. But, amid all, the sincere and earnest\nworker may hear the voice of the Great Teacher uttering words of comfort\nand consolation: _Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of\nthese my brethren, ye have done it unto me_.\u201d Those words of consolation\nmay be read in more senses than one.\n\nIn keeping with all this is the report of the president, Mr. Edgar\nKetchum. He also has the Catholics in his eye. He is strong on the moral\ntraining of the children and \u201cthe mild discipline of the house,\u201d of which\nthe public knows sufficient to warrant our letting Mr. Ketchum\u2019s ironical\nexpression pass without comment. He is \u201cfar from discouraging any effort\nto extend Christian sympathy and aid to a class who so deeply need them.\u201d\nHe believes that \u201creligion, in her benign offices, will here and there\nbe found to touch some chord of the soul, and make it vibrate for ever\nwith the power of a new life.\u201d What religion and what offices? He is of\nopinion that \u201cthe interests of society and the criminal concur; and if\nhis crimes have banished him from all that makes life desirable, _they\nneed not carry with them also a sentence of exclusion from whatever a\nwise Christian philanthropy can do in his behalf_.\u201d\n\nWe quite agree with Mr. Ketchum. Christian philanthropy, as far as it\nextends in this world, with the solitary exception of this country, has,\nas already seen, by unanimous action, annulled, if ever it existed, that\n\u201csentence of exclusion\u201d which shut off the criminal, or the one whom Mr.\nKetchum designates as \u201cthe victim of society,\u201d from the free profession\nand practice of his religion, whether he were Catholic, Protestant, Jew,\nor Mahometan. That same \u201cChristian philanthropy,\u201d as Mr. Ketchum is\npleased to call it, never peddled over by-laws, or rules, or regulations,\nor \u201cdifficulties\u201d whose plain purpose was to hinder Catholic children,\nconfined as are those in the house of which he is president, from seeing\ntheir priest, hearing their Mass, going to confession, frequenting\nthe sacraments, and learning their catechism. The same wise Christian\nphilanthropy framed that section of the constitution, binding alike\non Mr. Ketchum and his charges, that was precisely framed to prevent\nthe \u201csentence of exclusion\u201d which Mr. Ketchum so justly and with such\neloquence denounces. Christian philanthropy can do no work more worthy of\nitself than allowing these unfortunate children, foremost and above all\nthings, the practice of that form of Christianity which, were they free\nagents, they would undoubtedly follow; nor could it do anything less\nworthy of itself than force upon them a system of worship and religious\ntraining which their hearts abhor and their consciences reject. It could\nnot devise a more heinous offence against God and man, or a more hateful\ntyranny, than that very \u201csentence of exclusion\u201d which, under the \u201cmild\ndiscipline of the house,\u201d prevails in the society of which Mr. Ketchum is\npresident.\n\nThere is nothing left now but to turn to the superintendent\u2019s report,\nin order to ascertain the number of Catholic children who, for the last\nfifty years, have suffered this \u201csentence of exclusion\u201d from their faith,\nits duties, and its practices. We are only enabled to form a proximate\nidea of their number, but sufficiently accurate to serve our purpose. The\nsuperintendent\u2019s figures are as follows:\n\n    Total number of children committed in fifty years,      15,791\n\nOf these, 12,545 were boys and 3,246 girls. The statistics for the first\nfour decades are more accurate than for the last, and show the relative\npercentage of the children of native and foreign parents, as follows:\n\n    1ST DECADE:\n      Native,                 44 per cent.\n      Foreign,                56     \u201d\n\n    2D DECADE:\n      Native,                 34\u00bd    \u201d\n      Foreign,                65\u00bd    \u201d\n\n    3D DECADE:\n      Native,                 22     \u201d\n      Foreign,                78     \u201d\n\n    4TH DECADE:\n      Native,                 14     \u201d\n      Foreign,                86     \u201d\n\n    5TH DECADE:\n      Native,                 13\u2076/\u2081\u2080 \u201d\n      Foreign,                86\u2074/\u2081\u2080 \u201d\n\nIt will be seen from this that the percentage of the entire number is\nenormously in favor of the children born of foreign parents. This is\nonly natural from a variety of reasons, chief among which is that the\nforeign-born population, including their children in the first degree,\nhas, within the last half-century, been vastly in excess of the native,\nin this city particularly. Full statistics of the various nationalities\nof the children are only given for the last year (1874). Of the 636 new\ninmates received during the year, a little more than half the number\n(334) were of Irish parentage; 8 were French; 3 Italian; 1 Cuban. All\nof these may be safely set down as Catholics. There were 88 of German\nbirth, of whom one-third, following the relative statistics of their\nnation, might be assumed as of the Catholic faith. The remainder, whom\nwe are willing to set down in bulk as non-Catholic, were divided as to\nnationality as follows:\n\n    American,          96\n    African,           35\n    English,           26\n    Jewish,             3\n    Scotch,             6\n    Bohemian,           1\n    Welsh,              1\n    Mixed,             34\n\nAt all events, figure as we may, it may be taken as indisputable that\nmore than one-half the children committed during the past year to the\nHouse of Refuge were of Catholic parents. Their average age, according to\nthe statistics, was thirteen years and eight months. Consequently, the\nchildren were quite of an age to be capable of distinguishing between\ncreed and creed, and six years beyond the average age set down by the\nCatholic Church as a proper time to begin to frequent the sacraments of\nConfession and Communion, to prepare for Confirmation, and to hear Mass\non all Sundays and holydays of obligation, under pain of mortal sin.\nFrom the moment of their entering the institution the \u201cwise Christian\nphilanthropy\u201d of which Mr. Edgar Ketchum is so eloquent an exponent has\npronounced against them a dread \u201csentence of exclusion\u201d from all these\npractices of faith and means of grace, as well as from instruction of any\nkind whatever in their religion. And not only has this been the case,\nbut they have been subjected to the constant instruction of such men as\nMr. Smyth and Mr. Hallock. Multiply these children throughout the last\nfifty years, as far as the relative percentage given will allow us to\nform an opinion of their creeds, and the picture that presents itself of\nthese poor little Catholics is one that rends the heart. In the present\narticle we are only presenting the general features of the case, basing\nour argument for the admission of a Catholic chaplain to this and all\nsimilar institutions from which a Catholic chaplain is excluded, on the\nlaw of the land, on the letter and spirit of the constitution, which\nwe Catholics love, revere, and obey. We simply set the case in its\nbarest aspect before our fellow-citizens, of whatever creed, and ask\nfor our children what they would claim for their children--the right of\ninstruction in the religion in which they were born; the right of the\nfree practice and profession of the religion in which they believe; the\nright to repel all coercion, in whatever form, of conscience, whether\nsuch coercion be called sectarian or non-sectarian. In a word, we ask\nnow, as at the beginning, what we ask for all, and what Catholics, where\nthey have the power, as already seen, freely and without compulsion, or\nrequest even, grant to all--that great privilege and right which the\nconstitution of this State guarantees to all mankind: \u201cthe free exercise\nand enjoyment of religious profession and worship, without discrimination\nor preference.\u201d\n\n\nTHE VEIL WITHDRAWN.\n\nTRANSLATED, BY PERMISSION, FROM THE FRENCH OF MME. CRAVEN, AUTHOR OF \u201cA\nSISTER\u2019S STORY,\u201d \u201cFLEURANGE,\u201d ETC.\n\nCONCLUDED.\n\n\nXLIV.\n\nThis was the spring of the year 1859. In spite of the retirement in\nwhich we lived and Lorenzo\u2019s assiduous labors, which deprived him of the\nleisure to read even a newspaper, the rumors of a war between Austria and\nItaly had more than once reached us and excited his anxiety--excited him\nas every Italian was at that period at the thought of seeing his country\ndelivered from the yoke of the foreigner. On this point public sentiment\nwas unanimous, and many people in France will now comprehend better than\nthey did at that time, perhaps, a cry much more sincere than many that\nwere uttered at a later day--the only one that came from every heart:\n_Fuori i Tedeschi_. But till the time, when the realization of this wish\nbecame possible, it was only expressed by those who labored in secret to\nhasten its realization; it seemed dormant among others. Political life\nwas forbidden or impossible. An aimless, frivolous life was only embraced\nwith the more ardor, and this state of things had furnished Lorenzo with\nmore than one excuse at the time when he snatched at a poor one.\n\nI had often heard him express his national and political opinions,\naspirations, and prejudices, but these points had never interested me.\nI loved Italy as it was. I thought it beautiful, rich, and glorious. I\ndid not imagine anything could add to the charm, past and present, which\nnature, poetry, religion, and history had endowed it with. From time to\ntime I had also heard a cry which excited my horror, and conveyed to my\nmind no other idea than a monstrous national and religious crime: _Roma\ncapitale!_ These words alone roused me sufficiently from my indifference\nto excite my indignation, and even awakened in me a feeling bordering on\nrepugnance to all that was then called the Italian _resorgimento_.\n\nStella did not, in this respect, agree with me. It was her nature to be\nroused to enthusiasm by everything that gave proof of energy, courage,\nand devotedness--traits that patriotism, more or less enlightened, easily\nassumes the seductive appearance of, provided it is sincere. No one could\nrepeat with more expression than she:\n\n                        \u201c_Italia! Italia!_ \u2026\n    De\u2019h fossi tu men bella! O almen piu forte!\u201d[2]\n\nOr the celebrated apostrophe of Dante:\n\n    \u201cAhi serva Italia! di dolore ostello!\u201d[3]\n\nNever did her talent appear to better advantage than in the recitation\nof such lines; her face would light up and her whole attitude change.\nLorenzo often smilingly said if he wished to represent the poetical\npersonification of Italy, he would ask Stella to become his model. As\nto what concerned Rome, she did not even seem to comprehend my anxiety.\nIf a few madmen already began to utter that ominous cry, the most\neminent Italians of the time declared that to infringe on the majesty\nof Rome, deprive her of the sovereignty which left her, in a new sense,\nher ancient title of queen of the world--in short, to menace the Papacy,\n\u201c_l\u2019unique grandeur vivante de l\u2019Italie_,\u201d would be to commit the crime\nof treason against the world, and uncrown Italy herself.\n\nAlas! now that the time approached for realizing some of her dreams\nand the bitter deception of others, Stella, absorbed in her grief, was\nindifferent to all that was occurring in her country, and did not even\nremark the universal excitement around her! As for me, who had always\ntaken so little interest in such things, I was more unconcerned than\never, and scarcely listened to what was said on the subject in Mme.\nde Kergy\u2019s drawing-room. I was far from suspecting I was about to be\nviolently roused from my state of indifference.\n\nIt was Easter Sunday. I had been to church with Lorenzo. We had fulfilled\ntogether the sweet, sacred obligations of the day; the union of our souls\nwas complete, and our hearts were at once full of joy and solemnity--that\nis, in complete harmony with the great festival. At our return we found\nbreakfast awaiting us. Ottavia, who, with a single domestic, had the\ncare of our house, had adorned the table with flowers, as well as with\na little more silver than usual, in order to render it somewhat more in\naccordance with the importance of the day. By means of colored-glass\nwindows and some old paintings suspended on the dark wainscotting,\nLorenzo had given our little dining-room an aspect at once serious and\nsmiling, which greatly pleased me, and I still remember the feeling of\nhappiness and joy with which, on my return from church, I entered the\nlittle room, the open window of which admitted the sun and the odor of\nthe jasmine twined around it. The three conditions of true happiness we\ndid not lack--order, peace, and industry--and we were in that cheerful\nframe of mind which neither wealth, nor gratified ambition, nor any\nearthly prosperity is able to impart.\n\nWe took seats at the table. Lorenzo found before him a pile of letters\nand newspapers, but did not attempt to open them. He sat looking at me\nwith admiration and affection. I, on my part, said to myself that moral\nand religious influences had not only a beneficial effect on the soul,\nbut on the outward appearance. Never had Lorenzo\u2019s face worn such an\nexpression; never had I been so struck with the manly beauty of his\nfeatures. Our eyes met. He smiled.\n\n\u201cGinevra mia!\u201d said he, \u201cin truth, you are right. The life we now lead\nmust suit you, for you grow lovelier every day.\u201d\n\n\u201cOur life does not suit you less than it does me, Lorenzo,\u201d said I. \u201cWe\nare both in our element now. God be blessed! His goodness to us has\nindeed been great!\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d said he with sudden gravity, \u201cgreater a thousand times than I had\nany right to expect. I am really too happy!\u201d\n\nThis time I only laughed at his observation, and tried to divert his mind\nfrom the remembrances awakened.\n\n\u201cWhere are your letters from?\u201d\n\nHe tore one open, and his face brightened.\n\n\u201cThat looks well! Nothing could suit me better. Here is an American\nwho wishes a repetition of my _Sappho_, and gives me another order of\nimportance. And then what? He wishes to purchase the lovely _Vestal_ he\nsaw in my studio. Oh! as for that, _par exemple_, no!\u2026 The _Vestal_ is\nmine, mine alone. No one else shall ever have it. But no matter, Ginevra;\nif things go on in this way, I shall soon be swimming in money, and then\nlook out for the diamonds!\u201d\n\nHe knew now, as well as I, what I thought of such things. He laughed, and\nthen continued to read his letters.\n\n\u201cThis is from Lando. It is addressed to us both.\u201d\n\nHe glanced over it:\n\n\u201cTheir honeymoon at Paris is still deferred. They cannot leave Donna\nClelia.\u201d\n\nAfter reading for some time in silence, he said in an animated tone:\n\n\u201cThis letter has been written some time, and it seems there were rumors\nof war on all sides at the time, and poor Mariuccia, though scarcely\nmarried to her German baron, had to set out for her new home much sooner\nthan she expected.\u201d\n\nI listened to all this with mingled indifference and distraction, when I\nsuddenly saw Lorenzo spring from his seat with an exclamation of so much\nsurprise that I was eager to know what had caused his sudden excitement.\n\nHe had just opened a newspaper, and read the great news of the day: the\nAustrians had declared war against Italy. The beginning of the campaign\nwas at hand.\n\nAlas! my happy Easter was instantly darkened by a heavy cloud!\n\nLorenzo seized his hat, and immediately went out to obtain further\ndetails concerning the affair, leaving me sad and uneasy. Oh! how far I\nlived from the agitations of great political disturbances! How incapable\nI was of comprehending them! For a year my soul had been filled with\nemotions as profound as they were sweet. After great sufferings, joys so\ngreat had been accorded me that I felt a painful shrinking from the least\nidea of any change. But though the power of suffering was still alive\nin my heart, all anxiety was extinguished. Whatever way a dear hand is\nlaid on us, we never wish to thrust it away. I remained calm, therefore,\nthough a painful apprehension had taken possession of my mind; and when\nLorenzo returned, two hours later, I was almost prepared for what he had\nto communicate.\n\nYes, I knew it; he wished to go. Every one in the province to which his\nfamily belonged was to take part in this war of independence. He could\nnot remain away from his brothers and the other relatives and friends who\nwere to enroll themselves in resisting a foreign rule.\n\n\u201cIt is the critical moment. Seconded by France, the issue cannot be\ndoubtful this time. You know I have abhorred conspiracies all my life,\nand my long journeys have served to keep me away from those who would\nperhaps have drawn me into them. But now how can you wish me to hesitate?\nHow can you expect me at such a time to remain inactive and tranquil?\nYou would be the first, I am sure, to be astonished at such a course,\nand I hope to find you now both courageous and prompt to aid me, for I\nmust start without any delay. You understand, my poor Ginevra, before\nto-morrow I must be on my way.\u201d\n\nHe said all this and much more besides. I neither tried to remonstrate\nnor reply. I felt he was obeying what he believed to be a call of duty,\nand I could use no arguments to dissuade him from it. What could I do,\nthen? Only aid him, and bear without shrinking the unexpected blow which\nhad come like a sudden tempest to overthrow the edifice, but just\nrestored, of my calm and happy life!\n\nThe day passed sadly and rapidly away. I was occupied so busily that I\nscarcely had time for reflection. But at last all I could do was done,\nand Lorenzo, who had gone out in the afternoon, found, on returning at\nnightfall, that everything was ready for his departure, which was to take\nplace that very night.\n\nWe sat down side by side on a little bench against the garden-wall.\nSpring-time at Paris is lovely also, and everything was in bloom that\nyear on Easter Sunday. The air even in Italy could not have been sweeter\nnor the sky clearer. He took my hand, and I leaned my head against his\nshoulder. For some minutes my heart swelled with a thousand emotions I\nwas unable to express. I allowed my tears to flow in silence. Lorenzo\nlikewise struggled to repress the agitation he did not wish to betray, as\nI saw by his trembling lips and the paleness of his face.\n\nI wiped my eyes and raised my head.\n\n\u201cLorenzo,\u201d said I all at once, \u201cwhy not take me with you, instead of\nleaving me here?\u201d\n\n\u201cTo the war?\u201d said he, smiling.\n\n\u201cNo, but to Italy. You could leave me, no matter where. On the other side\nof the Alps I should be near you, and \u2026 should you have need of me, I\ncould go to you.\u201d\n\nHe remained thoughtful for a moment, and then said, as if speaking to\nhimself:\n\n\u201cYes, should I be wounded, and have time to see you again, it would be a\nconsolation, it is true.\u201d\n\nWe became silent again, and I awaited his decision with a beating heart.\nFinally he said in a decided tone:\n\n\u201cNo, Ginevra, it cannot be. Remain here. It is my wish. You must.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy?\u201d asked I, trying to keep back the tears that burst from my eyes at\nhis reply--\u201cwhy? Oh! tell me why?\u201d\n\n\u201cBecause,\u201d replied he firmly, \u201cI have no idea what will be the result of\nthe war in Italy. Very probably it will cause insurrections everywhere,\nperhaps revolutions.\u201d\n\n\u201cO my God!\u201d cried I with terror \u2026 \u201cand you expect me not to feel any\nhorror at this war! Even if it had not come to overturn my poor life, how\ncan I help shuddering at the thought of all the misery it is about to\nproduce?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat can you expect, Ginevra? Yes, it is a serious affair. God alone\nknows what it will lead to. You see Mario writes Sicily is already\na-flame. No one can tell what will take place at Naples. I should not be\neasy about you anywhere but here.\u2026 No, Ginevra, you cannot go. You must\nremain here. I insist upon it.\u201d\n\nI knew, from the tone in which he said this, it was useless to insist,\nand I bent my head in silence. He gently continued, as he pressed my hand\nin his:\n\n\u201cThe war will be short, I hope, Ginevra. If I am spared, I will hasten to\nresume the dear life we have led here. But if, on the contrary.\u2026\u201d\n\nHe stopped a moment, then, with a sudden change of manner and an accent I\nshall never forget, he continued:\n\n\u201cBut why speak to you as I should to any other woman? Why not trust to\nthe inward strength you possess, which has as often struck me as your\nsweetness of disposition? I know now where your strength comes from, and\nwill speak to you without any circumlocution.\u201d\n\nI looked at him with surprise at this preamble, and by the soft evening\nlight I saw a ray of heaven in his eyes; for they beamed with faith and\nhumility as he uttered the following words:\n\n\u201cWhy deceive you, Ginevra? Why not tell you I feel this is the last hour\nwe shall ever pass together in this world?\u201d\n\nI shuddered. He put his arm around my waist, and drew me towards him.\n\n\u201cNo, do not tremble!\u2026 Listen to me.\u2026 If I feel I am to die, I have\nalways thought a life like mine required some other expiation besides\nrepentance. The happiness you have afforded me is not one, and who knows\nif its continuation might not become a source of danger to me? Whereas\nto die now would be something; it would be a sacrifice worthy of being\noffered \u2026 and accepted.\u201d\n\nMy head had again fallen on his shoulder, and my heart beat so rapidly I\nwas not able to reply.\n\n\u201cLook upward, Ginevra,\u201d said he in a thrilling tone; \u201craise your eyes\ntowards the heaven you have taught me to turn to, to desire, and hope\nfor. Tell me we shall meet there again, and there find a happiness no\nlonger attended by danger!\u201d\n\nYes, at such language I felt the inward strength he had spoken of assert\nitself, after seeming to fail me, and this terrible, painful hour became\ntruly an hour of benediction.\n\n\u201cLorenzo,\u201d said I in a tone which, in spite of my tears, was firm, \u201cyes,\nyou are right, a thousand times right. Yes, whatever be your fate and\nmine, let us bless God!\u2026 We are happy without doubt; but our present\nlife, whatever its duration, is only a short prelude to that true life of\ninfinite happiness which awaits us. Let God do as he pleases with it and\nwith us! Whatever be the result, there is no adieu for us.\u201d\n\nDo I mean to say that the sorrow of parting was extinguished? Oh! no,\nassuredly not. We tasted its bitterness to the full, but there is a\nmysterious savor which is only revealed to the heart that includes all in\nits sacrifice, and refuses nothing. This savor was vouchsafed us at that\nsupreme hour, and we knew and felt it strengthened our souls.\n\n\nXLV.\n\nThe two weeks that succeeded this last evening seem, as I look back upon\nthem, like one long day of expectation. Nothing occurred to relieve my\nconstant uneasiness. A few lines from Lorenzo, written in haste as he was\non the point of starting to join the army, where the post of aide-de-camp\nto one of the generals had been reserved for him, were the last direct\nnews I received. From that day I had no other information but what I\ngathered from the newspapers, or what Mme. de Kergy and Diana obtained\nfrom their friends, who, though most of them were unfavorable to the war\nin which France was engaged, felt an ardent interest in all who took\npart in it. But there were only vague, confused reports, which, far from\ncalming my agitation, only served to increase it.\n\nOne evening I remained later than usual at church. Prostrate before one\nof the altars, which was lit up with a great number of tapers, I could\nnot tear myself away, though night had come and the church was almost\ndeserted. It was one of those dark, painful hours when the idea of\nsuffering fills us with fear and repugnance, and rouses every faculty\nof our nature to resist it; one of those hours of mortal anguish that\nno human being could support had there not been a day--a day that will\nendure as long as the world--when this agony was suffered by Him who\nwished us to participate in it in order that he might be for ever near us\nwhen we, in our turn, should have to endure it for him!\u2026\n\nOh! in that hour I felt in how short a time I had become attached to the\nearthly happiness that had been granted me beyond the realization of my\nutmost wishes. What tender, ardent sentiments! What sweet, delightful\ncommunings already constituted a treasure in my memory which furnished\nmaterial for the most fearful sacrifice I could be called upon to make!\nAlas! the human heart, even that to which God has deigned to reveal\nhimself, still attaches itself strongly to all it is permitted to love on\nearth! But this divine love condescends to be jealous of our affection,\nand it is seldom he spares such hearts the extreme sacrifices which lead\nthem to give themselves to him at last without any reserve!\n\nWhen I left the church, I saw a crowd in the street. Several houses were\nilluminated, and on all sides I heard people talking of a great victory,\nthe news of which had just arrived at Paris.\n\nI returned home agitated and troubled. At what price had this victory\nbeen won? Who had fallen in the battle? What was I to hear? And when\nwould the anguish that now contracted my heart be relieved \u2026 or\njustified? Mme. de Kergy, who hastened to participate in my anxiety,\nwas unable to allay it. But our suspense was not of long duration. The\nhour, awaited with the fear of an overpowering presentiment, was soon to\narrive!\u2026\n\nTwo days after I was sitting in the evening on the little bench in the\ngarden where we held our last conversation, when I received the news for\nwhich he had so strangely prepared me. His fatal prevision was realized.\nHe was one of the first victims of the opening attack. His name, better\nknown than many others, had been reported at once, and headed the list of\nthose who fell in the battle.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nNo preparation, no acceptation of anticipated misfortune, no effort at\nsubmission or courage, was now able to preserve me from a shock similar\nto the one I have related the effects of at the beginning of this story.\nAs on that occasion, I lost all consciousness, and Ottavia carried me\nsenseless to my chamber. As then, likewise, I was for several days the\nprey to a burning fever, which was followed by a weakness and prostration\nthat rendered my thoughts confused and incoherent for some time. And\nfinally, as when I was but fifteen years old, it was also a strong,\nsudden emotion that helped restore my physical strength and the complete\nuse of my senses and reason.\n\nThe most profound silence reigned in the chamber where I lay, but I felt\nI was surrounded by the tenderest care. At length I vaguely began to\nrecognize voices around me; first, that of Ottavia, which made me shed\nmy first tears--tears of emotion, caused by a return to the days of my\nchildhood. I thought myself there again. I forgot everything that had\nhappened since. But this partial relief restored lucidness to my mind,\nand with it a clear consciousness of the misfortune that had befallen me.\nThen I uttered a cry--a cry that alarmed my faithful nurse. But I had the\nstrength to reassure her at once.\n\n\u201cLet me weep, Ottavia,\u201d said I in a low tone--\u201cI know, \u2026 I recollect. Do\nnot be alarmed; I am better, Ottavia. God be blessed, I can pray!\u201d\n\nI said no more, and closed my eyes. But a little while after I reopened\nthem, and eagerly raised my head. What did I hear? Mme. de Kergy and\nDiana were there. I recognized their voices, and now distinguished their\nfaces. But whose voice was that which had just struck my ear? Whose sweet\nface was that so close to mine? Whose hand was that I felt the pressure\nof?\n\n\u201cO my Stella!\u201d I cried, \u201cis it a dream, or are you really here?\u201d \u2026\n\n\nXLVI.\n\nNo, it was not a dream. It was really Stella, who had torn herself from\nher retreat, her solitude and her grief, and hastened to me as soon as\nshe heard of the fresh blow that had befallen me. She had not ceased\nto interest herself in all that concerned my new life, and the distant\nradiance of my happiness had been the only joy of her wounded heart.\nNow this happiness was suddenly destroyed.\u2026 I was far away; I was in\ntrouble; I was alone; the state of affairs, which became more and more\nserious, detained my brother in Sicily; but she was free--free, alas!\nfrom every tie, from every duty, and she came to me as fast as the most\nrapid travelling could bring her. But when she arrived, I was unable to\nrecognize her, and, when I now embraced her, she had watched more than a\nweek at my bedside!\n\nThis was the sweetest consolation--the greatest human assistance heaven\ncould send me, and it was a benefit to both of us. For each it was\nbeneficial to have the other to think of.\n\nMy health now began to improve, and my soul recovered its serenity. I\nfelt a solemn, profound peace, which could not be taken from me, and\nwhich continually increased; but this did not prevent me from feeling and\nsaying with sincerity that everything in this world was at an end for me.\n\nYes, everything was at an end; but I resigned myself to my lot, and when,\nafter this new affliction, I found myself before the altar where I prayed\nthat evening with so many gloomy forebodings, I fell prostrate, as,\nafter some severe combat or long journey, a child falls exhausted on the\nthreshold of his father\u2019s house, to which he returns never to leave it\nagain!\n\nIf I had then obeyed my natural impulse, I should have sought some place\nof profound seclusion, where I could live, absorbed and lost in the\nthought continually present to my mind since the great day of grace which\nenabled me to comprehend the words: _God loves me!_ and to which I could\nhenceforth add: And whom alone I now love!\n\nBut it is seldom the case one\u2019s natural inclinations can be obeyed,\nespecially when they incline one to a life of inaction and retirement.\nThere is but little repose on earth, and the more we love God, the less\nit is permitted to sigh after it. I was forced to think of others at this\ntime, and, above all, of the dear, faithful friend who had come so far to\nconsole me.\n\nIt did not require a long time for Mme. de Kergy to discern the heroic\ngreatness of Stella\u2019s character, and still less for her maternal heart,\nthat had received so many blows, to sympathize with the broken heart of\nAngiolina\u2019s mother. The affection she at once conceived for Stella was so\nstrong that I might have been almost jealous, had it not exactly realized\none of my strongest desires, and had not Mme. de Kergy been one of those\npersons whose affection is the emanation of a higher love which is\nbestowed on all, without allowing that which is given to the latest comer\nto diminish in the least the part of the others.\n\nShe at once perceived the remedy that would be efficacious to her wounded\nheart, and what would be a beneficial effort for mine, and she threw us\nboth, if I may so express myself, into that ocean of charity where all\npersonal sufferings, trials, and considerations are forgotten, and where\npeace is restored to the soul by means of the very woes one encounters\nand succeeds in relieving.\n\nNo fatigue, no fear of contagion, the sight of no misery, affected\nStella\u2019s courage; no labor wearied her patience, no application or effort\nwas beyond her ability and perseverance. For souls thus constituted it\nis a genuine pleasure to exercise their noble faculties and be able to\nsatisfy the thirst for doing good that devours them. Her eyes, therefore,\nsoon began to brighten, her face to grow animated, and from time to time,\nlike a reflection of the past, her lips to expand with the charming smile\nof former days.\n\nThere is a real enjoyment, little suspected by those who have not\nexperienced it, in these long, fatiguing rounds, the endless staircases\nascended and descended, in all these duties at once distressing and\nconsoling, and it can be truly affirmed that there is more certainty\nof cheerfulness awaiting those who return home from these sad visits\nthan the happiest of those who come from some gay, brilliant assembly.\nIt is to the former the words of S. Francis de Sales may be addressed:\n\u201cConsider the sweetest, liveliest pleasures that ever delighted your\nheart, and say if there is one worth the joy you now taste.\u2026\u201d\n\nThus peace and a certain joy returned by degrees, seconded by the\nsweetest, tenderest, most beneficial sympathy. Notwithstanding the\nsolitude in which we lived, and the mourning I never intended to lay\naside, and which Stella continued to wear, we spent an hour every evening\nat Mme. de Kergy\u2019s, leaving when it was time for her usual circle to\nassemble. This hour was a pleasant one, and she depended on seeing us,\nfor she began to cling to our company. Diana, far from being jealous,\ndeclared we added to the happiness of their life; and one day, in one of\nher outbursts of caressing affection, she exclaimed that the good God had\nrestored to her mother the two daughters she had mourned for so long.\n\nAt these words Mme. de Kergy\u2019s eyes filled with tears, which she hastily\nwiped away, and, far from contradicting her daughter, she extended her\narms and held us both in a solemn, tender, maternal embrace!\n\n\nXLVII.\n\nWhat Stella felt at that moment I cannot say. As for me, my feelings were\nrather painful than pleasant. I comprehended only too well the sadness\nthat clouded the dear, venerable brow of Gilbert\u2019s mother, and his\nprolonged absence weighed on my heart like remorse. Of course I did not\nconsider myself the direct cause. But I could not forget that he merely\nleft his country for a few weeks, and it was only after his sojourn at\nNaples he had taken the sudden resolution to make almost the tour of the\nworld--that is, a journey whose duration was prolonged from weeks into\nmonths, and from months into years. I felt that no joy could spring up on\nthe hearth he had forsaken till the day he should return, and it seemed\nto me I should not dare till that day arrived enjoy the peace that had\nbeen restored to my soul.\n\nMonths passed away, however, autumn came for the second time since\nStella\u2019s arrival, and the time fixed for her departure was approaching.\nI had made up my mind to accompany her, and pass some time at Naples\nwith her, in order to be near my sister; but various unforeseen events\nmodified her plans as well as mine.\n\nI went one day to the H\u00f4tel de Kergy at a different hour from that I was\nin the habit of going. Diana and her mother had gone out. I was told\nthey would return in an hour. I decided, therefore, to wait, and, as\nthe weather was fine, I selected a book from one of the tables of the\ndrawing-room, and took a seat in the garden.\n\nWhile I was looking over the books, my attention was attracted to\nseveral letters that lay on the table awaiting Mme. de Kergy\u2019s return,\nand, to my great joy, I recognized Gilbert\u2019s writing on one of them.\nHis long absence had this time been rendered more painful by the\ninfrequency and irregularity of his letters. Whole months often elapsed\nwithout the arrival of any. I hoped this one had brought his mother the\nlong-wished-for promise of his return, and cheered by this thought, I\nopened my book, which soon absorbed me so completely that I forgot my\nanxiety, and hope, and everything else.\u2026\n\nThe book I held in my hand was the _Confessions of S. Augustine_, and,\nopening it at hazard, the passage on which my eyes fell was this:\n\n\u201cWhat I know, not with doubt, but with certainty; what I know, O my God!\nis that I love thee. Thy word penetrated my heart and suddenly caused it\nto love thee. The heavens and the earth, and all they contain, do they\nnot cry without ceasing that all men should love thee? But he on whom it\npleaseth thee to have mercy alone can comprehend this language.\u201d[4]\n\nO words, ancient but ever new, like the beauty itself that inspired them!\nWhat a flight my soul took as I read them again here in this solitude and\nsilence. Though centuries had passed since the day they were written,\nhow exactly they expressed, how faithfully they portrayed, the feelings\nof my heart! How profound was the conviction I felt, in my turn, that,\nwithout the mercy and compassion of God, I should never have been able to\nunderstand their meaning!\n\nI was deeply, deeply plunged in these reflections, I was lost in a world,\nnot of fancy, but of reality more delightful than a poet\u2019s dreams,\nwhen an unusual noise brought me suddenly to myself. First I heard the\nrattling of a carriage which I supposed to be Mme. de Kergy\u2019s. But I\ninstantly saw two or three servants rush into the court, as if some\nunexpected event had occurred. Then the old gardener, at work in the\nparterre before me, suddenly threw down his watering-pot and uttered a\ncry of surprise and joy:\n\n\u201cO goodness of God!\u201d exclaimed he in a trembling voice, \u201cthere is\nMonsieur le Comte!\u201d\n\n\u201cMonsieur le Comte?\u201d cried I, hastily rising.\u2026\n\nBut I had not time to finish my question. It was really he--Gilbert.\nHe was there before me, on the upper step of the flight that led to\nthe drawing-room. I sprang towards him with a joy I did not think of\nrepressing or concealing, and, extending both hands, I exclaimed:\n\n\u201cOh! God be blessed a thousand times. It is you! You have returned! What\na joyful surprise for your mother! For Diana! For me also, I assure you!\u2026\u201d\n\nI know not what else I was on the point of adding when, seeing him stand\nmotionless, and gaze at me as if incapable of answering a word, a faint\nblush rose to my face. Was he surprised at such a greeting, or too much\nagitated? Perchance he was deceived as to its signification. This doubt\ncaused a sudden embarrassment, and checked the words I was about to utter.\n\nAt length he explained his unexpected arrival. His letter ought to have\narrived before. He supposed his mother was notified.\u2026 He wished to spare\nher so sudden a surprise.\u2026\n\n\u201cI knew you were at Paris,\u201d continued he, in a tone of agitation he could\nnot overcome. \u201cYes \u2026 I knew it, and hoped to see you again. But to find\nyou here \u2026 to see you the first, O madame! that was a happiness too great\nfor me to anticipate, and I cannot yet realize it is not, after all, a\ndream.\u2026\u201d\n\nWhile he was thus speaking, and gazing intently at me as if I were some\nvision about to vanish from his sight, my joyful greeting and cordiality\nwere changed into extreme gravity of manner, and I looked away as his\neyes wandered from my face to my mourning attire, and for the first time\nit occurred to me he found me free, and perhaps was now thinking of it!\n\nFree!\u2026 Oh! if I have succeeded in describing the state of my soul since\nthat moment of divine light which marked the most precious day of my\nlife; if I have clearly expressed the aspect which the past, the present,\nthe future, and all the joys, all the sufferings, in short, every event\nof my life, henceforth took in my eyes; if, I say, I have been able to\nmake myself understood, those who have read these pages are already aware\nwhat the word _free_ now signified to me.\n\nFree! Yes, as the bird that cleaves the air is free to return to its\ncage; as the captive on his way to the shores of his native land is free\nto return and resume his chains; so is the soul that has once tasted the\nblessed reality of God\u2019s love free also to return to the vain dreams of\nearthly happiness.\n\n\u201cI would not accept it!\u201d was the exclamation of a soul[5] that had thus\nbeen made free, and it is neither strange nor new. No more than the bird\nor the captive could it be tempted to return to the past.\u2026\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nI did not utter a word, however, and the thoughts that came over me like\na flood died away in the midst of the joyful excitement that put an end\nto this moment of silence. Mme. de Kergy and Diana, who had been sent\nfor, arrived pale and agitated. But when I saw Gilbert in his mother\u2019s\narms, I felt so happy that I entirely forgot what had occurred, and was\nnot even embarrassed when, as I was on the point of leaving, I heard\nDiana say to her brother that her mother had two new daughters now, and\nhe would find three sisters instead of one in the house.\n\nI returned home in great haste. It was the first time for a long while my\nheart had felt light. I searched for Stella. She was neither in the house\nnor garden. I then thought of the studio, where, in fact, I found her.\nEverything remained in the same way Lorenzo had left it, and Stella, who\nhad a natural taste for the arts, knew enough of sculpture to devote a\npart of her time to it. She had succeeded in making a bust of Angiolina\nwhich was a good likeness, and she was at work upon it when I entered.\n\nShe looked at me with an air of surprise, for she saw something unusual\nhad taken place.\n\n\u201cGilbert has returned!\u201d I exclaimed, without thinking of preparing her\nfor the news, the effect of which I had not sufficiently foreseen.\n\nShe turned deadly pale, and her face assumed an expression I had never\nknown it to wear. I was utterly amazed. Rising with an abrupt movement,\nshe said, in an altered tone:\n\n\u201cThen I must go, Ginevra!\u201d And, suddenly bursting into tears, she pressed\nher lips to the little bust, the successful production of her labor and\ngrief.\n\n\u201cO my angel child!\u201d said she, \u201cforgive me. I know it; I ought to love no\none but thee. I have been punished, cruelly punished. And yet I am not\nsure of myself, Ginevra. I do not wish to see him again. I must go.\u201d\n\nIt was the first time in her life Stella had thus allowed me to read the\ndepths of her heart. It was the first time the violence of any emotion\nwhatever broke down the wall of reserve she knew how to maintain, and\nmade her rise above her natural repugnance to speak of herself. It was\nthe first time I was sure of the wound I had so long suspected, but which\nI had never ventured to probe.\n\nGod alone knows with what emotion I listened to her. What hopes were\nawakened, and what prayers rose from my heart during the moment\u2019s silence\nthat followed these ardent words. She soon continued, with renewed\nagitation:\n\n\u201cYes, I must start at once. I had no idea he would arrive in this way\nwithout giving me time to escape!\u2026\u201d\n\nThen she added, in a hollow tone:\n\n\u201cListen, Ginevra. For once I must be frank with you. He loves you, you\nwell know, and now there is nothing more to separate you; now you are\nfree.\u2026\u201d\n\nBut she stopped short, surprised, I think, at the way in which I looked\nat her.\n\n\u201cShe also! Is it possible?\u201d murmured I, replying to my own thoughts.\n\nAnd my eyes, that had been fixed on her, involuntarily looked upward at\nthe light that came from the only window in the studio. I soon said in a\ncalm tone:\n\n\u201cYou are mistaken, Stella. I am not free, as you suppose. But let us not\nspeak of myself, I beg.\u2026\u201d\n\nShe listened without comprehending me, and her train of thought,\ninterrupted for a moment, resumed its course. I was far from wishing to\ncheck a communicativeness her suffering heart had more need of than she\nwas aware. I allowed her, therefore, to pour out without hindrance all\nthat burdened her mind. I suffered her to give way to her unreasonable\nremorse. I did not even contradict her when she repeated that her sweet\ntreasure would not have been ravished from her, had she been worthy of\npossessing it, if no other love had been allowed to enter her heart. I\ndid not oppose this fancy, which was only one of those _perfidies de\nl\u2019amour_, as such imaginary wrongs have been happily styled, which, after\nthe occurrence of misfortune, often add to one\u2019s actual sorrow a burden\nstill heavier and more difficult to bear.\n\nOn the contrary, I assured her we would start together, and she herself\nshould fix the day of our departure.\n\nI only begged her not to hasten the time, and, by leaving Paris so\nabruptly, afflict our excellent friend at the very hour of her joy, and\nmake Diana weep at the moment when she was so pleased at the restoration\nof their happiness. At last I induced her to consent that things should\nremain for the present as they were. She would return to the H\u00f4tel de\nKergy, and Gilbert\u2019s return should in no way change the way of life we\nhad both led for a year.\n\n\nXLVIII.\n\nNothing, in fact, was changed. Our morning rounds, our occupations in the\nafternoon, and our evening reunions, all continued the same as before.\nApparently nothing new had occurred except the satisfaction and joy\nwhich once more brightened the fireside of our friends, and things were\npleasanter than ever, even when Gilbert was present. This time he seemed\ndecided to put an end to his wandering habits, and settle down with his\nmother, never to leave her again.\n\nNothing was changed, therefore. And yet before the end of the year I\nalone remained the same as the day of Gilbert\u2019s arrival, the day when\nStella was so desirous of going away that she might not meet him again;\nthe day when (as I must now acknowledge) he thought if he was deceived\nby the pleasure I manifested at seeing him again, if my sentiments did\nnot respond to his, if some new insurmountable barrier had risen in the\nplace of that which death had removed, then he would once more depart, he\nwould leave his country again, he would exile himself from his friends\n\u2026 and--who knows?--perhaps die--yes, really, die of grief with a broken\nheart!\u2026\n\nIt was somewhat in these terms he spoke to me some time after his\nreturn, and I looked at him, as I listened, with a strange sensation of\nsurprise. He was, however, the same he once was, the same Gilbert whose\npresence had afforded me so much happiness and been such a source of\ndanger. There was no change in the charm of his expression, his voice,\nhis wit, the elevation of his mind and character, and yet \u2026 I tried, but\nin vain, to recall the emotions of the past I once found so difficult to\nhide, so painful to combat, so impossible to overcome. I could not revive\nthe dreams, the realization of which was now offered me, and convince\nmyself it was I who had formerly regarded such a destiny as so happy a\none and so worthy of envy--I, who now found it so far below the satisfied\nambition of my heart. Ah! it was a good thing for me to see Gilbert\nagain; it was well to look this earthly happiness once more in the face,\nin order to estimate the extent the divine arrow had penetrated my soul\nand opened the only true fountain of happiness and love!\n\nIt was not necessary to give utterance to all these thoughts. There\nwas something inexpressible in my eyes, my voice, my language, my\ntranquillity in his presence, in my friendship itself, so evident and\nsincere, which were more expressive than any words or explanation, and\nby degrees produced a conviction no man can resist unless he is--which\nGilbert was not--blind, presumptuous, or inflated with pride.\n\n    \u201cAmor, ch\u2019 a null\u2019 amato amar perdona,\u201d[6]\n\nsays our great poet. But he should have added that, if this law is not\nobeyed, love dies, and he who loves soon grows weary of loving in vain.\n\nGilbert was not an exception to this rule. The time came for its\naccomplishment in his case. The day came when he realized it. It was a\nslow, gradual, insensible process, but at length I saw the budding, the\nprogress, the fulfilment of my dearest hopes.\n\nThe \u201c_sang joyeux_\u201d which once enabled my dear Stella to endure the\ntrials of her earlier life now diffused new joy and hope in her heart,\nbrought back to her eyes and lips that brilliancy of color and intensity\nof expression which always reflected the emotions of her soul, and made\nher once more what she was before her great grief!\u2026\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nI saw her at last happy--happy to a degree that had never before been\nshed over her life. I should have left her then, as I intended, to see\nLivia again; but, while the changes I have just referred to were taking\nplace around me, the heavy, unmerciful hand of spoliation had been laid\non the loved asylum where my sister hoped to find shelter for life.\nSoldiers\u2019 quarters were needed. The monastery was appropriated, the nuns\nwere expelled. A greater trial than exile was inflicted on their innocent\nlives--a trial as severe as death, and, in fact, was death to several\nof their number. They were separated from one another; the aged were\nreceived in pious families; some were dispersed in various convents of\ntheir order still spared in Italy by the act of suppression; others,\nagain, sought refuge in countries not then affected by the tempest which,\nfrom time to time, rises against the church and strikes the religious\norders as lightning always strikes the highest summits, without ever\nsucceeding in annihilating one, but leaving to the persecutors the stigma\nof crime and the shame of defeat!\n\nMy sister Livia was of the number of these holy exiles. A convent of her\norder, not far from Paris, was assigned her as a refuge, and it was there\nI had the joy of once more seeing her calm, angelic face. How much we\nhad to say to each other! How truly united we now were! What a pleasure\nto again find her attentive ear, her faithful heart, and her courageous,\nartless soul! But when, after the long account I had to give her, I\nasked her to tell me, in her turn, all she had suffered from the sudden,\nviolent invasion, the profanation of a place so dear and sacred to her,\nand the necessity of bidding farewell to the cloudless heavens, the\nbeautiful mountains, and all the enchanting scenery of the country she\nloved, she smiled:\n\n\u201cWhat difference does all that make?\u201d said she. \u201cOnly one thing is sad:\nthat they who have wronged us should have done us this injury. As for us,\nthe only real privation there is they could not inflict on us; the only\ntrue exile they could not impose. _Domini est terra et plenitudo ejus!_\nNo human power can separate us from him!\u201d\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAnd now there remains but little to add.\n\nThe happiness of this world, such as it is, in all its fulness and its\ninsufficiency, Gilbert and Stella possess. Diana also, without being\nobliged to leave her mother, has found a husband worthy of her and the\ndear sanctuary of all that is noble. Mario makes frequent journeys\nto France to visit his sisters, each in her retreat, and his former\nasperities seem to grow less and less. Lando and Teresina also come to\nsee me every time they visit Paris, and I always find in him a sincere\nand faithful friend; but it is very difficult to convince him I shall\nnever marry again, and still more so to make him understand how I can be\nhappy.\n\nHappy!\u2026 Nevertheless I am, and truly so! I am happier than I ever\nimagined I could be on earth; and if life sometimes seems long, I have\nnever found it sad. Order, peace, activity, salutary friendship, a divine\nhope, leave nothing to be desired, and like one[7] who, still young,\nlikewise arrived through suffering to the clearest light, I said, in my\nturn: Nothing is wanting, for \u201c_I believe, I love, and I wait!_\u201d\n\nYes, I await the plenitude of that happiness, a single ray of which\nsufficed to transform my whole life. I bless God for having unveiled the\nprofound mystery of my heart, and enabled me to solve its enigma, and\nto understand with the same clearness all the aspirations of the soul\nwhich constitute here below the glory and torment of our nature! I render\nthanks to him for being able to comprehend and believe with assurance\nthat the reason why we are so insatiable for knowledge, for repose, for\nhappiness, for love, for security, and for so many other blessings never\nfound on earth to the extent they are longed for, is because \u201cwe are all\ncreated _solely_ for what we cannot here possess!\u201d[8]\n\n\nMARCH.\n\n    Ready is Time beneath her brooding wing\n      To break with swelling life the brown earth\u2019s sheath;\n      And fondly do we watch th\u2019 expectant heath\n    For bloom and song the days are ripe to bring.\n    Our heralds even vaunt the birth of spring,\n      While yet, alack! the winter\u2019s blatant breath\n      Defieth trust, and coldly shadoweth\n    With drifts of gray each hope that dares to sing.\n    Yet still we know, as deepest shades foretell\n      The coming of the morn, and lovely sheen\n      Of living sunshine lies asleep between\n    A snow-bound crust and joys that upward well,\n    So, sure of triumph o\u2019er the yielding shell,\n      Are ecstasies of song and matchless green!\n\n\nCALDERON\u2019S AUTOS SACRAMENTALES.\n\nI.\n\n\nI.\n\nVillemain, in his _Lectures on the Literature of the Middle Ages_, while\nspeaking of the Mysteries performed by the _Confr\u00e8res de la Passion_,\nexclaims, \u201cIt is to be regretted that at that period the French language\nwas not more fully developed, and that there was no man of genius among\nthe _Confr\u00e8res de la Passion_.\n\n\u201cThe subject was admirable: imagine a theatre, which the faith of the\npeople made the supplement of their worship; conceive religion, with the\nsublimity of its dogmas, put on the stage before convinced spectators,\nthen a poet of powerful imagination, able to use freely all these grand\nthings, not reduced to the necessity of stealing a few tears from us\nby feigned adventures, but striking our souls with the authority of\nan apostle and the impassioned magic of an artist, addressing what we\nbelieve and feel, and making us shed real tears over subjects which seem\nnot only true, but divine--certainly nothing would have been greater than\nthis poetry!\u201d\n\nSuch a poet and such poetry Spain possesses in Calderon and his _Autos\nSacramentales_, which may be regarded as the completion and perfection of\nthe religious drama of the Middle Ages.\n\nOf the modern nations which possess a national popular drama, Spain is\nthe only one where, by the side of the secular stage, there has grown up\nand been carefully cultivated a religious drama; for this, in England,\ndied with the Mysteries and Moralities.\n\nThe persistence of the religious drama in Spain is to be explained by the\npeculiar history of the nation, especially the struggle of centuries with\nthe Moors--a continual crusade fought on their own soil, which inflamed\nto the highest degree the religious enthusiasm of the people.\n\nThe Reformation awoke but a feeble echo in Spain, and only served to\nquicken the masses to greater devotion to doctrines they saw threatened\nfrom abroad.\n\nThe two dogmas of the church which have always been especially\ndear to the Spaniards are those of the Immaculate Conception and\nTransubstantiation.\n\nThe former, as more spiritual and impalpable, remained an article of\nfaith, deep and fervent, only represented to the senses by the mystic\nmasterpieces of Murillo. Transubstantiation, on the other hand, was\nembodied in a host of symbols and ceremonies, and had devoted to it the\nmost gorgeous of all the festivals of the church--that of Corpus Christi,\nestablished in 1263 by Urban IV., formally promulgated by Clement V. in\n1311, and fifty years later amplified and rendered more magnificent by\nJohn XXIII.\n\nThis festival was introduced into Spain during the reign of Alfonso X.,\nand its celebration there, as elsewhere, was accompanied by dramatic\nrepresentations.\n\nIn Barcelona, even earlier than 1314, part of the celebration consisted\nin a procession of giants and ridiculous figures--a feature, as we shall\nafterwards see, always retained.\n\nIt seems established that from the earliest date dramatic representations\nof some kind always accompanied the celebration of Corpus Christi.\n\nThese plays, constituting a distinct and peculiar class, received a name\nof their own, and were at first called _autos_ (from the Latin _actus_,\napplied to any particularly solemn act, as _autos-da-fe_), and later more\nspecifically _autos sacramentales_.\n\nWe infer from occasional notices that these religious dramas were\nperformed without interruption during the XIVth and XVth centuries. What\ntheir character was during this period we do not know, as we possess none\nearlier than the beginning of the XVIth century.\n\nFrom this last-named date notices of the secular drama begin to multiply,\nand we may form some idea of the early _autos sacramentales_ from the\nproductions of Juan de la Enzina and Gil Vicente.\n\nThe former wrote a number of religious dialogues or plays, which he\nnamed _eclogues_, probably because the majority of the characters were\nshepherds.\n\nOne of these eclogues is on the Nativity, another on the Passion and\nDeath of our Redeemer.\n\nThe word _auto_, as we have stated, was applied to any solemn act, and\ndid not at first refer exclusively to the Corpus Christi dramas, so we\nfind among the works of Gil Vicente an _auto_ for Christmas, and one on\nthe subject of S. Martin, which, although having nothing to do with the\nmystery of the Eucharist, was performed during the celebration of Corpus\nChristi in 1504, in the vestibule of the Church of Las Caldas in Lisbon.\n\nThese sacred plays were undoubtedly at first represented only in the\nchurches by the ecclesiastics; they were not allowed to be performed in\nvillages (where they could not be supervised by the higher clergy), or\nfor the sake of money.\n\nThe abuses in their performance, or perhaps the large number of\nspectators, afterwards led to their representation in the open air.\n\nThe stage (as in the beginning of the classical drama) was a wagon, on\nwhich the scenery was arranged; when the _autos_ became more elaborate,\nthree of these wagons or _carros_ were united.\n\nWe may see what these primitive stages were like in _Don Quixote_ (part\nii. chap. 11), the hero of which encountered upon the highway one of\nthese perambulating theatres:\n\n    \u201cHe who guided the mules and served for carter was a frightful\n    demon. The cart was uncovered and opened to the sky, without\n    awning or wicker sides.\n\n    \u201cThe first figure that presented itself to Don Quixote\u2019s eyes\n    was that of Death itself with a human visage. Close by him sat\n    an angel with painted wings. On one side stood an emperor, with\n    a crown, seemingly of gold, on his head.\n\n    \u201cAt Death\u2019s feet sat the god called Cupid, not blindfolded, but\n    with his bow, quiver, and arrows.\n\n    \u201cThere was also a knight completely armed, excepting only that\n    he had no morion or casque, but a hat with a large plume of\n    feathers of divers colors.\n\n    \u201cWith these came other persons, differing both in habits and\n    countenances.\u201d\n\nTo Don Quixote\u2019s question as to who they were the carter replied:\n\n    \u201cSir, we are strollers belonging to Angulo el Malo\u2019s company.\n    This morning, which is the octave of Corpus Christi, we have\n    been performing, in a village on the other side of yon hill, a\n    piece representing the Cortes or Parliament of Death, and this\n    evening we are to play it again in that village just before us;\n    which being so near, to save ourselves the trouble of dressing\n    and undressing, we come in the clothes we are to act our parts\n    in.\u201d\n\nThe character of the _autos_ changed with the improvements in their\nrepresentation; from mere dialogues they developed into short farces, the\nobject of which was to amuse while instructing.\n\nLike the secular plays, they opened with a prologue, called the _loa_\n(from _loar_, to praise), in which the object of the play was shadowed\nforth and the indulgence of the spectators demanded.\n\nThe _loa_ was originally spoken by one person, and was also called\n_argumento_ or _introito_, and was in the same metre as the _auto_;\nalthough it consisted sometimes of a few lines in prose, as in the _auto_\nof _The Gifts which Adam sent to Our Lady by S. Lazarus_:\n\n    \u201cLOA.--Here is recited an _auto_ which treats of a letter\n    and gifts which our father Adam sent by S. Lazarus to the\n    illustrious Virgin, Our Lady, supplicating her to consent to\n    the Passion of our Lord Jesus Christ.\n\n    \u201cIn order that the _auto_ may be easily heard, the accustomed\n    silence is requested.\u201d\n\nStill later the _loa_ was extended into a short, independent play,\nsometimes with no reference to the _auto_ it preceded, and frequently by\nanother author.\n\nDuring Lope de Vega\u2019s reign over the Spanish stage an _entremes_ or farce\nwas inserted between the _loa_ and _auto_.\n\nThese _entremeses_ are gay interludes, terminating with singing and\ndancing, and having no connection with the solemn play which follows,\nunless, as is the case with one of Lope de Vega\u2019s (_Muestra de los\nCarros_), to ridicule the whole manner of celebrating the festival.\n\nWith the increase in wealth and cultivation the performance of the\n_autos_ had lost much of its primitive simplicity, and was attended with\nlavish magnificence.\n\nThe proper representation of these truly national works was deemed of\nsuch importance that each city had a committee, or _junta del corpus_,\nconsisting of the _corregidor_ and two _regidores_ of the town, and a\nsecretary.\n\nThis committee in Madrid was presided over by a member of the royal\ncouncil (_Consejo y C\u00e1mera real_) who was successively called the\n\u201ccommissary, protector, and superintendent of the festivals of the Most\nHoly Sacrament.\u201d\n\nThe president of the junta was armed with extraordinary powers,\nfrequently exercised against refractory actors. It was his duty to\nprovide everything necessary for the festival: plays, actors, cars,\nmasked figures for the processions, decorations for the streets, etc.\n\nAs there were at that date no permanent theatrical companies in the\ncities, it was necessary to engage actors for the _autos_ early in the\nyear, in order that there might be no risk of failure, and to afford the\nnecessary time for rehearsals.\n\nThe necessary preparations having been made, and an early Mass\ncelebrated, a solemn procession took place, followed by the\nrepresentation of the _autos_ in the open air.\n\nThe best descriptions of the manner of representation are found in the\ntravels of two persons who witnessed the performance of the _autos_ in\nMadrid in 1654 and 1679.\n\nThe second of the two was the Comtesse d\u2019Aulnoy, whose account of her\ntravels was always a popular book.[9] The writer was a gossipy French\nlady, who disseminated through Europe many groundless scandals about the\nSpanish court.\n\nHere are her own words about the _autos_:\n\n    \u201cAs soon as the Holy Sacrament is gone back to the church\n    everybody goes home to eat, that they may be at the _autos_,\n    which are certain kinds of tragedies upon religious subjects,\n    and are oddly enough contrived and managed; they are acted\n    either in the court or street of each president of a council,\n    to whom it is due.\n\n    \u201cThe king goes there, and all the persons of quality receive\n    tickets overnight to go there; so that we were invited, and I\n    was amazed to see them light up abundance of flambeaux, whilst\n    the sun beat full upon the comedians\u2019 heads, and melted the wax\n    like butter. They acted the most impertinent piece that I ever\n    saw in my days.\u2026 These _autos_ last for a month.\u2026\u201d\n\nWe shall see why the flippant Parisian was shocked when we consider the\nsubject-matter of these plays.\n\nThe whole ceremony is much better described by the earlier traveller,\nAarseus de Somerdyck, a Dutchman, who was in Madrid in 1654.\n\nHis account is so long and minute that we have been obliged to condense\nit slightly:\n\n    \u201cThe day opened with a procession, headed by a crowd of\n    musicians and Biscayans with tambourines and castanets; then\n    followed many dancers in gay dresses, who sprang about and\n    danced as gayly as though they were celebrating the carnival.\n\n    \u201cThe king attended Mass at Santa Maria, near the palace, and\n    after the service came out of the church bearing a candle in\n    his hand.\n\n    \u201cThe repository containing the Host occupied the first place;\n    then came the grandees and different councils.\n\n    \u201cAt the head of the procession were several gigantic figures\n    made of pasteboard, and moved by persons concealed within. They\n    were of various designs, and some looked frightful enough; all\n    represented women, except the first, which consisted only of\n    an immense painted head borne by a very short man, so that the\n    whole looked like a dwarf with a giant\u2019s head.\n\n    \u201cThere were besides two similar figures representing a Moorish\n    and an Ethiopian giant, and a monster called the _tarrasca_.\n\n    \u201cThis is an enormous serpent, with a huge belly, long tail,\n    short feet, crooked claws, threatening eyes, powerful,\n    distended jaws, and entire body covered with scales.\n\n    \u201cThose who are concealed within cause it to writhe so that its\n    tail often knocks off the unwary bystanders\u2019 hats, and greatly\n    terrifies the peasants.\n\n    \u201cIn the afternoon, at five o\u2019clock, the _autos_ were performed.\n    These are religious plays, between which comic interludes are\n    given to heighten and spice the solemnity of the performance.\n\n    \u201cThe theatrical companies, of which there are two in Madrid,\n    close their theatres during this time, and for a month perform\n    nothing but such religious plays, which take place in the open\n    air, on platforms built in the streets.\n\n    \u201cThe actors are obliged to play every day before the house\n    of one of the presidents of the various councils. The first\n    representation is before the palace, where a platform with a\n    canopy is erected for their majesties.\n\n    \u201cAt the foot of this canopy is the theatre; around the stage\n    are little painted houses on wheels, from which the actors\n    enter, and whither they retire at the end of every scene.\n\n    \u201cBefore the performance the dancers and grotesque figures amuse\n    the public.\n\n    \u201cDuring the representation lights were burned, although it\n    was day and in the open air, while generally other plays are\n    performed in the theatres in the daytime without any artificial\n    light.\u201d\n\nSufficient has now been said in regard to the history and mode of\nrepresentation of the _autos_ to enable us to understand the essentially\npopular character of these plays--a fact very necessary to be kept in\nmind, and which will explain, if not palliate, the many abuses which\ngradually were introduced, and which led to their suppression by a royal\ndecree in 1765.\n\nThey have, however, left traces of their influence in plays still\nperformed on Corpus Christi in some parts of Spain, and in the sacred\nplays represented during Lent in all the large cities.[10]\n\n\nII.\n\nWe have seen the primitive condition of the _autos_ when Lope de Vega\ntook possession of the stage. He did for the _autos_ what he did for the\nsecular drama: with his consummate knowledge of the stage and the public,\nhe took the materials already at hand, and remodelled them to the shape\nmost likely to interest and win applause.\n\nThe superior poetic genius of Calderon found in the _autos_ the field for\nits noblest exercise, and it is now admitted that he carried the secular\nas well as the religious drama to the highest perfection of which it was\ncapable.\n\nIt is perhaps not generally remembered that Calderon, in common with many\nmen of letters of that day, took Holy Orders when he was fifty-one years\nold (1651), and was appointed chaplain at Toledo.\n\nThis, however, involved his absence from court, and twelve years later he\nwas made chaplain of honor to the king; other ecclesiastical dignities\nwere added, which he enjoyed until the close of his life, in 1681.\n\nMr. Ticknor (_Hist. of Span. Lit._, ii. 351, note) says: \u201cIt seems\nprobable that Calderon wrote no plays expressly for the public stage\nafter he became a priest in 1651, confining himself to _autos_ and to\n_comedias_ for the court, which last, however, were at once transferred\nto the theatres of the capital.\u201d\n\nFor nearly thirty-seven years he furnished Madrid, Toledo, Granada, and\nSeville with _autos_, and devoted to them all the energies of his matured\nmind.\n\nSolis, the historian, in one of his letters says: \u201cOur friend Don Pedro\nCalderon is just dead, and went off, as they say the swan does, singing;\nfor he did all he could, even when he was in immediate danger, to finish\nthe second _auto_ for Corpus Christi.\n\n\u201cBut, after all, he completed only a little more than half of it, and it\nhas been finished in some way or other by Don Melchior de Leon.\u201d\n\nCalderon evidently based his claim for recognition as a great poet on his\n_autos_; of all his plays he deemed them alone worthy of his revision for\npublication, and he would now without doubt be judged by them, had not\nthe spirit in which and for which they were written passed away, to a\ngreat extent, with the author.\n\nBefore we examine his _autos_ in detail we must notice some of their most\nstriking peculiarities, and see in what respect they differ from plays on\nreligious subjects.\n\nThe intensely religious character of the Spaniards led, at an early date,\nto their consecrating to religion every form of literature; and plays\nbased on the lives of the saints, miracles of the Blessed Virgin, etc.,\nare very common.\n\nAlmost every prominent doctrine of the church is illustrated in the\ndramas of Lope de Vega and Calderon.\n\nTheir plays differ not at all in _form_ from those of a purely secular\ncharacter; they are all in three acts, in verse.\n\nThe _autos_, on the other hand, are restricted to the celebration of one\ndoctrine--that of Transubstantiation; consist of but one act (that one,\nhowever, nearly equal in length to the three of many secular plays); and\nwere performed on but one solemn occasion--the festival of Corpus Christi.\n\nThe most striking peculiarity of the _autos_ consists in the introduction\nof _allegorical_ characters, which, however, were not first brought\nbefore the public in _autos_, nor was their use restricted to that class\nof dramatic compositions.\n\nThe custom of personifying inanimate objects is as old as the imagination\nof man, and has been constantly used since the days of Job and David; and\nCervantes, in his interesting drama, _Numancia_, introduces \u201ca maiden who\nrepresents Spain,\u201d and \u201cthe river Douro.\u201d\n\nIt is not easy to see how the introduction of allegorical personages\ncould have been avoided.\n\nThe leading idea in all the _autos_ is the redemption of the human soul\nby the personal sacrifice of the Son of God--that great gift of himself\nto us embodied in the doctrine of the Real Presence.\n\nThe plot is the history of the soul from its innocence in Eden to its\ntemptation and fall, and subsequent salvation; the characters are the\nsoul itself, represented by human nature, the Spouse Christ, the tempter,\nthe senses, the various virtues and vices.\n\nThese constitute but a small minority of the whole number, as will be\nseen by the following list, which might easily be expanded:\n\nGod Almighty as Father, King, or Prince, Omnipotence, Wisdom, Divine\nLove, Grace, Righteousness, Mercy; Christ as the Good Shepherd,\nCrusader, etc., the Bridegroom--_i.e._, Christ, who woos his bride, the\nChurch--the Virgin, the Devil or Lucifer, Shadow as a symbol of guilt,\nSin, Man as Mankind, the Soul, Understanding, Will, Free-will, Care,\nZeal, Pride, Envy, Vanity, Thought (generally, from its fickleness, as\nClown), Ignorance, Foolishness, Hope, Comfort, the Church, the written\nand natural Law, Idolatry, Judaism or the Synagogue, the Alcoran or\nMahometanism, Heresy, Apostasy, Atheism, the Seven Sacraments, the World,\nthe four quarters of the globe, Nature, Light symbol of Grace, Darkness,\nSleep, Dreams, Death, Time, the Seasons and Days, the various divisions\nof the world, the four elements, the plants (especially the wheat and\nvine, as furnishing the elements for the Holy Eucharist), the five\nSenses, the Patriarchs, Prophets, Apostles and their symbols (the eagle\nof John, etc.), and the Angels and Archangels.\n\nAnachronisms are not regarded, and the prophets and apostles appear side\nby side on the same stage.\n\nAlthough the plot was essentially always the same, its development and\ntreatment were infinitely varied.\n\nThe protagonist is Man, but under the most diversified forms, from\nabstract man to Psyche or Eurydice, representatives of the human soul.\n\nThe essential idea of man\u2019s fall and salvation is entwined with all\nmanner of subjects taken from history, mythology, and romance.\n\nThe first contributed _The Conversion of Constantine_, the second a\nhost of plays like _The Divine Jason_, _Cupid and Psyche_, _Andromeda\nand Perseus_, _The Divine Orpheus_, _The True God Pan_, _The Sacred\nParnassus_, _The Sorceries of Sin_ (Ulysses and Circe). Romance\ncontributed the fables of _Charlemagne and the Twelve Peers_, etc.\n\nIt is almost needless to say that the most important sources of the\n_autos_ are the Scriptures and Biblical traditions.\n\nExamples of the former are: _The Brazen Serpent_, _The First and Second\nIsaac_, _Baltassar\u2019s Feast_, _The Vineyard of the Lord_ (S. Matt. xx. 1).\n_Gedeon\u2019s Fleece_, _The Faithful Shepherd_, _The Order of Melchisedech_,\n_Ruth\u2019s Gleaning_, etc.\n\nAn interesting example of the use of tradition is the _auto_ of _The Tree\nof the Best Fruit_ (_El Arbol del Mejor Fruto_), embodying the legend\nthat the cross on which Christ died was produced from three seeds of\nthe tree of the forbidden fruit planted on the grave of Adam. There yet\nremains a large number of plays which cannot be referred to any of the\nabove-mentioned classes.\n\nThese are the inventions of the poet\u2019s brain, some of them but a recast\nof secular plays already popular;[11] others are fresh creations, and\nare among the most interesting of the autos. Among these are _The Great\nTheatre of the World_ (_El Gran Teatro del Mundo_, partly translated by\nDean Trench), _The Poison and the Antidote_ (_El Veneno y la Triaca_,\npartly translated by Mr. MacCarthy), etc.\n\nNo idea, however, can be formed of the _autos_ from a mere statement of\ntheir form and subjects; they must be examined in their entirety, and the\nreader must transport himself back to the spirit of the times in which\nthey were written.\n\nWhat this spirit was, and how the _autos_ are to be regarded, is\nadmirably expressed by Schack, in his _History of the Spanish Drama_\n(iii. p. 251), and of which Mr. MacCarthy has given the following\nspirited translation:\n\n    \u201cPosterity cannot fail to participate in the admiration of\n    the XVIIth century for this particular kind of poetry, when\n    it shall possess sufficient self-denial to transplant itself\n    out of the totally different circle of contemporary ideas into\n    the intuition of the world, and the mode of representing it,\n    from which this entire species of drama has sprung. He who\n    can in this way penetrate deeply into the spirit of a past\n    century will see the wonderful creations of Calderon\u2019s _autos_\n    rise before him, with sentiments somewhat akin to those of\n    the astronomer, who turns his far-reaching telescope upon the\n    heavens, and, as he scans the mighty spaces, sees the milky-way\n    separating into suns, and from the fathomless depths of the\n    universe new worlds of inconceivable splendor rising up.\n\n    \u201cOr let me use another illustration: he may feel like the\n    voyager who, having traversed the wide waste of waters, steps\n    upon a new region of the earth, where he is surrounded by\n    unknown and wonderful forms--a region which speaks to him in\n    the mysterious voices of its forests and its streams, and where\n    other species of beings, of a nature different from any he has\n    known, look out wonderingly at him from their strange eyes.\n\n    \u201cIndeed, like to such a region these poems hem us round.\n\n    \u201cA temple opens before us, in which, as in the Holy Graal\n    Temple of Titurel, the Eternal Word is represented symbolically\n    to the senses.\n\n    \u201cAt the entrance the breath as if of the Spirit of eternity\n    blows upon us, and a holy auroral splendor, like the brightness\n    of the Divinity, fills the consecrated dome.\n\n    \u201cIn the centre, as the central point of all being and of all\n    history, stands the cross, on which the infinite Spirit has\n    sacrificed himself from his infinite benevolence towards man.\n\n    \u201cAt the foot of this sublime symbol stands the poet as\n    hierophant and prophet, who explains the pictures upon the\n    walls, and the dumb language of the tendrils, and the flowers\n    that are twining round the columns, and the melodious tones\n    which reverberate in music from the vault.\n\n    \u201cHe waves his magic wand, and the halls of the temple extend\n    themselves through the immeasurable; a perspective of pillars\n    spreads from century to century up to the dark gray era of the\n    past, where first the fountain of life gushes up, and where\n    suns and stars, coming forth from the womb of nothing, begin\n    their course.\n\n    \u201cAnd the inspired seer unveils the secrets of creation, showing\n    to us the breath of God moving over the chaos, as he separates\n    the solid earth from the waters, points out to the moon and\n    the stars their orbits, and commands the elements whither they\n    should fly and what they are to seek.\n\n    \u201cWe feel ourselves folded in the wings of the Spirit of the\n    universe, and we hear the choral jubilation of the new-born\n    suns, as they solemnly enter on their appointed paths,\n    proclaiming the glory of the Eternal.\n\n    \u201cFrom the dusky night, which conceals the source of all things,\n    we see the procession of peoples, through the ever-renewing\n    and decaying generations of men, following that star that led\n    the wise men from the east, and advancing in their pilgrimage\n    towards the place of promise; but beyond, irradiated by the\n    splendors of redemption and reconciliation, lies the future,\n    with its countless generations of beings yet unborn.\n\n    \u201cAnd the sacred poet points all round to the illimitable,\n    beyond the boundaries of time out into eternity, shows the\n    relation of all things, created and uncreated, to the symbol of\n    grace, and how all nations look up to Him in worship.\n\n    \u201cThe universe in its thousand-fold phenomena, with the chorus\n    of all its myriad voices, becomes one sublime psalm to the\n    praise of the Most Holy; heaven and earth lay their gifts at\n    his feet; the stars, \u2018the never-fading flowers of heaven,\u2019 and\n    the flowers, \u2018the transitory stars of earth,\u2019 must pay him\n    tribute; day and night, light and darkness, lie worshipping\n    before him in the dust, and the mind of man opens before him\n    its most hidden depths, in order that all its thoughts and\n    feelings may become transfigured in the vision of the Eternal.\n\n    \u201cThis is the spirit that breathes from the _autos_ of Calderon\n    upon him who can comprehend them in the sense meant by the\n    poet.\u201d\n\nWith this preparation we can now examine in detail one or two of the\nmost characteristic of Calderon\u2019s _autos_, selecting from the class of\nScriptural subjects _Baltassar\u2019s Feast_, and from the large class of\nallegories invented by the poet the _Painter of his own Dishonor_, which\nis of especial interest, as being the counterpart of a secular play.\n\nNOTE.--Those who desire a better acquaintance with Calderon\u2019s AUTOS than\nthey can form from the above very imperfect sketch and analyses will find\nthe following list of authorities of interest:\n\nThe _autos_ were not collected and published until some time after the\npoet\u2019s death, in 1717, six vols. 4to, and 1759-60, six vols., also in\n4to, both editions somewhat difficult to find. In 1865 thirteen were\npublished in Riradeneyra\u2019s collection of Spanish authors in a work\nentitled _Autos Sacramentales desde su origen hasta fines del siglo_\nXVII., with an historical introduction by the collector, Don Eduardo G.\nPedroso.\n\nThe _autos_ have never been republished, in the original, out of Spain.\n\nThe enthusiasm in regard to the Spanish drama aroused by Schlegel\u2019s\n_Lectures_, early in this century, bore fruit in a large number of\nexcellent German translations of the most celebrated secular plays.\n\nThe _autos_ were neglected until 1829, when Cardinal Diepenbrock\npublished a translation of _Life is a Dream_ (counterpart of comedy of\nsame name); this was followed in 1846-53 by _Geistliche Schauspiele_, von\nCalderon (Stuttgart, two volumes), containing eleven _autos_ translated\nby J. von Eichendorff, a writer well known in other walks of literature.\nIn this translation the original metre is preserved, and they are in\nevery way worthy of admiration.\n\nIn 1856 Ludwig Braunfels published two volumes of translations from Lope\nde Vega, Iviso de Molina, and Calderon; the second volume contains the\n_auto_ of _Baltassar\u2019s Feast_.\n\nIn 1855 Dr. Franz Lorinser, an ecclesiastic of Regensburg, an\nenthusiastic admirer of Spanish literature, began the translation of\nall of Calderon\u2019s _autos_, and has now translated some sixty-two of the\nseventy-two into German trochaic verse, without any attempt to preserve\nthe original _asonante_.\n\nThis translation is accompanied by valuable notes and explanations,\nvery necessary for the non-Catholic reader, as these plays are in many\ninstances crowded with scholastic theology.\n\nIf the Germans, with their genius for translation, shrank from the labor\nnecessary for the faithful rendering of the _autos_, the English, with\ntheir more unmanageable language, may well be excused for suffering these\nremarkable plays to remain so long unknown.\n\nOccasional notices and analyses had been given in literary histories\nand periodicals, but the first attempt at a metrical translation was by\nDean Trench in his admirable little work (reprinted in New York 1856) on\nCalderon, which contains a partial translation of _The Great Theatre of\nthe World_.\n\nIt is needless to say it is beautifully done, and on the whole is the\nmost poetical translation yet made into English.\n\nThe first complete translation of an _auto_ was made by Mr. D. F.\nMacCarthy, published in 1861 in London, under the title, _Three Dramas of\nCalderon, from the Spanish_, and containing the _auto_, _The Sorceries of\nSin_.\n\nThe author was favorably known for his previous labors in this field,\nwhich had won him the gratitude of all interested in Spanish literature.\n\nHe has since published a volume, entitled _Mysteries of Corpus Christi_,\nDublin and London, 1867, containing complete translations of _Baltassar\u2019s\nFeast_, _The Divine Philothea_, and several scenes from _The Poison and\nthe Antidote_, in all of which the original metre is strictly preserved.\nThere are few translations in the English language where similar\ndifficulties have been so triumphantly overcome.\n\nThe _asonante_ can never be naturalized in English verse, but Mr.\nMacCarthy has done much to reconcile us to it, and make its introduction\nin Spanish translations useful, if not indispensably necessary.\n\nIt may be doubted whether in any other way a correct idea of the Spanish\ndrama can be conveyed to those unacquainted with the Spanish language.\n\nTO BE CONCLUDED NEXT MONTH.\n\n\nARE YOU MY WIFE?\n\nBY THE AUTHOR OF \u201cA SALON IN PARIS BEFORE THE WAR,\u201d \u201cNUMBER THIRTEEN,\u201d\n\u201cPIUS VI.,\u201d ETC.\n\nCHAPTER III.\n\nTHE LILIES.\n\nMy first step was to pay a visit to the Pr\u00e9fecture de Police. I was\nreceived with the utmost courtesy and many half-spoken, half-intimated\nexpressions of sympathy that were touching and unexpected. All that my\nsensitive pride most shrank from in my misfortune was ignored with a\ntact and delicacy that were both soothing and encouraging. I had felt\nmore than once, when exposing my miserable and extraordinary situation\nto the police agents at home, that it required the strongest effort of\nprofessional gravity on their part not to burst out laughing in my face.\nNo such struggle was to be seen in the countenances of the French police.\nThey listened with interest, real or feigned, to my story, and invited\nwhat confidence I had to give by the matter-of-fact simplicity with which\nthey set to work to put the few pieces of the puzzle together, and to\nendeavor to read some clew in them. I returned to my hotel after this\ninterview more cheered and sanguine than the incident itself reasonably\nwarranted.\n\nIt was scarcely two years since I had been in Paris, yet since that\nfirst visit I found it singularly altered. I could not say exactly how;\nbut it was not the same. It had struck me when I first saw it as the\nplace above all I had yet seen for a man to build an earthly paradise\nto himself; the air was full of brightness, redolent of light-hearted\npleasure; the aspect of the city, the looks of the people, suggested\nat every point the Epicurean motto, \u201cEat, drink, and be merry; for\nto-morrow we die!\u201d But it was different now. Perhaps the change was in\nme; in the world within rather than the world without. The chord that had\nformerly answered to the touch of the vivacious gayety of the place was\nbroken. I walked through the streets and boulevards now with wide-open,\ndisenchanted eyes, critical and unsympathetic. Things that had passed\nunheeded before appeared to me with a new meaning. What struck me as most\ndisagreeable, and with a sense of complete novelty, was the widespread\npopularity which the devil apparently enjoyed amongst the Parisians. If,\nas we may assume, the popularity of a name implies the popularity of the\nperson or the idea that it represents, it is difficult to exaggerate\nthe esteem and favor which Satan commands in the city of bonnets and\nrevolutions. You can scarcely pass through any of the thoroughfares\nwithout seeing his name emblazoned on a shop-window, or his figure carved\nor bedaubed in some grotesque or hideous guise on a sign-board inviting\nyou to enter and spend your money under his patronage. There are devils\ndancing and devils grinning, devils fat and devils lean, a _diable\nvert_ and a _diable rose_, a _bon diable_, a _diable \u00e0 quatre_--every\nconceivable shape and color of _diable_, in fact, in the range of the\ninfernal hierarchy. He stands as high in favor with the literary guild\nas with the shop-keepers; books and plays are called after him; his name\nis a household word in the press; it gives salt to the editor\u2019s joke and\npoint to his epigram. The devil is welcome everywhere, and everywhere\nset up as a sign not to be contradicted. Angels, on the other hand, are\nat a discount. Now and then you chance upon some honorable mention of\nthe _ange gardien_, but the rare exception only serves as a contrast\nwhich vindicates the overwhelming popularity of the fallen brethren.\nIs this the outcome of the promise, \u201cI will give my angels charge over\nthee\u201d? And does Beelzebub\u2019s protection of his Parisian votaries justify\ntheir interpretation of the message? I was revolving some such vague\nconjectures in my mind as I turned listlessly into the Rue de Rivoli, and\nsaw a cab driving in under the _porte coch\u00e8re_ of my hotel. I quickened\nmy pace, for I fancied I recognized a familiar face in the distance. The\nglass door at the foot of the stairs was still swinging, as I pushed it\nbefore me, and heard a voice calling my name on the first floor. \u201cHollo!\nhere you are, uncle!\u201d I cried, and, clearing the intervening stair at\nthree bounds, I seized the admiral by both arms, as he stood with his\nhand still on my bell-rope.\n\n\u201cCome in, my boy. Come in,\u201d he said, and pushed in without turning his\nhead towards me.\n\n\u201cYou have bad news!\u201d I said. I read it in his averted face and the\nsubdued gravity of his greeting. He deliberately took off his hat and\nflung his light travelling surtout on the sofa before he answered me.\nThen he came up and laid his hand on my shoulder. \u201cYes, very bad news, my\npoor fellow; but you will bear up like a man. It doesn\u2019t all end here,\nyou know.\u201d\n\n\u201cMy God! It is all over, then! She is dead!\u201d I cried.\n\nHe made a gesture that signified assent, and pressed me down into a\nchair. I do not remember what followed.\n\nI recollect his standing over me, and whispering words into my ear that\ncame like the sound of my mother\u2019s voice--words that fell like balm upon\nmy burning brain, and silenced, as if by some physical force, other\nwords that were quivering on my tongue. I never knew or cared before\nwhether my uncle believed in anything, whether he had faith in God or in\ndevils; but as he spoke to me then I remember feeling a kind of awe in\nhis presence--awe mingled with surprise and a sense of peace and comfort;\nit was as if I had drifted unawares into a haven. He never left me for a\nmoment till the hard dumbness was melted, and I let my head drop on his\nshoulder, and wept.\u2026\n\nHe told me that the day I left Dieppe news came of the wreck of a\nfishing-smack having floated into the harbor of St. Val\u00e9ry. The police\nwere on the alert, and went at once to inspect the boat. It had capsized,\nand had drifted ashore, after knocking about on the high seas no one\ncould say how many days; but it bore the name of a fisherman who had been\nseen in the neighborhood about ten days before. There was nothing in the\nboat, of course, that could give any indication as to what had become of\nits owner or how the accident had occurred. About two days later the body\nof a woman was washed ashore almost on the same spot; the police, still\non the _qui-vive_, went down to see it, and at once telegraphed for my\nuncle. The body was lying at the _morgue_ of St. Val\u00e9ry; it was already\ndecomposing, but the work of destruction was not far enough advanced\nto admit of doubt as to the identity. The long, dark hair was dripping\nwith the slime of the sea, and tangled like a piece of sea-weed; but the\nadmiral\u2019s eyes had no sooner glanced at the face than he recognized it.\n\nI can write this after an interval of many months, but even now I cannot\nrecall it without feeling, almost as vividly as at the moment, the\npang that seemed to cleave my very life in two. My uncle had said: \u201cIt\ndoesn\u2019t all end here!\u201d and those words, I believe, preserved me from\nsuicide. They kept singing, not in my ears, but within me, and seemed\nto be coming out of all the common sounds that were jarring and dinning\noutside. The very ticking of the clock seemed to repeat them: \u201cIt does\nnot all end here.\u201d It did, so far as my happiness went. I was a blighted\nman for ever. The dark mystery of the flight and the death would never\nbe solved on this side of the grave. The sea had given up its dead, but\nthe dead could not speak. I was alone henceforth with a secret that no\nfellow-creature could unriddle for me. I must bear the burden of my\nbroken life, without any hope of alleviation, to the end. The name of De\nWinton was safe now. No blot would come upon it through the follies or\nsins of her who had beamed like a sweet, sudden star upon my path, and\nthen gone out, leaving me in the lonely darkness. Why should I chronicle\nmy days any more? They can never be anything to me but a dreary routine\nof comings and goings, without joy or hope to brighten them. The sun\nhas gone down. The stone has fallen to the bottom; the trembling of the\ncircles, as they quiver upon the surface of the water, soon passes away,\nand then all is still and stagnant again.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nSo Clide lapses into silence again, and for a time we lose sight of him.\nHe is roving about the world, doing his best to kill pain by excitement,\nand soothe memory with hope; and all this while a new life is getting\nready for him, growing and blossoming, and patiently waiting for the\nsummer-time, when the fruit shall be ripe for him to come and gather\nit. The spot which this new life has chosen for its home is suggestive\nrather of the past than of the future. A tiny brick cottage, with a\nthatched roof overgrown with mosses green and brown, a quaint remnant\nof old-fashioned life, a bit of picturesque long ago forgotten on the\nskirts of the red-tiled, gas-lit, prosperous modern town of Dullerton.\nThe little brick box, smothered in its lichens and mosses, was called The\nLilies from a band of those majestic flowers that dwelt on either side\nof the garden-wicket, like guardian angels of the place, looking out in\nserene beauty on the world without.\n\nIt was a nine days\u2019 wonder to Dullerton when the Comte Raymond de la\nBourbonais and his daughter Franceline came from over the seas, and took\nup their abode at The Lilies with a French _bonne_ called Ang\u00e9lique.\nThere was the usual amount of guessing amongst the gossips as to the why\nand the wherefore a foreign nobleman should have selected such a place\nas Dullerton, when, as was affirmed by those who knew all about it, he\nhad all the world before him to choose from. The only person who could\nhave thrown light upon the mystery was Sir Simon Harness, the lord of the\nmanor of Dullerton. But Sir Simon was not considerate enough to do so;\nhe was even so perverse as to set the gossips on an entirely wrong scent\nfor some time; and it was not until the count and his daughter had become\nfamiliar objects to the neighborhood that the reason of their presence\nthere transpired.\n\nThe De la Bourbonais were an old race of royalists whose archives could\nhave furnished novels for a generation without mixing one line of fiction\nwith volumes of fact. They had fought in every Crusade, and won spurs on\nevery battle-field wherever a French prince fought; they had produced\nheroes and heroines in the centuries when such things were expected from\nthe feudal lords of France, and they had furnished scapegraces without\nend when these latter became the fashion; they had quarrelled with their\nneighbors, stormed their castles, and misbehaved themselves generally\nlike other noble families of their time, dividing their days between\nwar and gallantry so evenly that it was often difficult to say where\nthe one began and where the other ended, or which led to which. This\nwas in the good old times. Then the Revolution came. The territorial\nimportance of the De la Bourbonais was considerably diminished at this\ndate; but the prestige of the old name, with the deeds of prowess that\nhad once made it a power in the camp and a glory at the court, was as\ngreat as ever, and marked its owners amongst the earliest victims of the\nTerror. They gave their full contingent of blue blood to the guillotine,\nand what lands remained to them were confiscated to the Regenerators\nof France. The then head of the house, the father of the present Comte\nRaymond, died in England under the roof of his friend, Sir Alexander\nHarness, father of Sir Simon. The son that was born to him in exile\nreturned to France at the Restoration, and grew up in solitude in the\nold castle that had withstood so many storms, and--thanks partly to its\ndilapidated condition, but chiefly to the fidelity and courage of an old\ndependent--had been rescued from the general plunder, and left unmolested\nfor the young master who came back to claim it. Comte Raymond lived there\nin learned isolation, sharing the ancestral ruin with a population of\nowls, who pursued their meditations in one wing while he pondered over\nphilosophical problems in another. It was a dreary abode, except for the\nowls; a desolate wreck of ancient splendor and power. We may poetize\nover ruins, and clothe them with what pathos we will, the beauty of\ndecay is but the beauty of death; the ivy that flourishes on the grave\nof a glorious past is but a harvest of death; it looks beautiful in the\nweird silver shadows of the moon, but it shrinks before the blaze of day\nthat lights up the proud castle on the hill, standing in its strength of\nbattlement and tower and flying buttress, and smiling a grim, granite\nsmile upon the gray wreck in the valley down below, and wondering what\npoets and night-birds can find in its crumbling arches and gaping windows\nto haunt them so fanatically. Raymond de la Bourbonais was contented in\nhis weather-beaten old fortress, and would probably never have dreamed\nof leaving it or changing the owl-like routine of his life, if it had\nnot entered into the mind of his grand-aunt, the only remaining lady of\nhis name, to marry him. Raymond started when the subject was broached,\nbut, with the matter-of-fact coolness of a Frenchman in such things,\nhe quickly recovered his composure, and observed blandly to the aged\ncountess: \u201cYou are right, my aunt. It had not occurred to me, I confess;\nbut now that you mention it, I see it would be desirable.\u201d And having\nso far arranged his marriage, Raymond, satisfied with his own consent,\nrelapsed into his books, and begged that he might hear no more about it\nuntil his grand-aunt had found him a wife.\n\nThe family of the De Xaintriacs lived near him, and happened just at\nthis moment to have a daughter to marry; so the old countess ordered out\nthe lumbering family coach that had taken her great-grandmother to the\n_f\u00eates_ given for Marie de Medicis on her marriage, and rumbled over the\nroads to the Ch\u00e2teau de Xaintriac. This ancestral hall was about on a par\nwith its neighbor, De la Bourbonais, as regarded external preservation,\nbut the similarity between the two houses ended here. The De Xaintriacs\u2019\norigin was lost in the pre-historic ages before the Deluge, the earliest\nrecord of its existence being a curious iron casket preserved in the\narchives, in which, it was said, the family papers had been rescued from\nthe Flood by one of Noe\u2019s daughters-in-law, \u201cherself a demoiselle de\nXaintriac\u201d--so ran the legend. The papers had been destroyed in a fire\nmany centuries before the Christian era, but happily the casket had been\nsaved. It was to a daughter of this illustrious house that the Comtesse\nde la Bourbonais offered her grand-nephew in marriage. Armengarde de\nXaintriac was twenty-five years of age, and shadowed forth in character\nand person the finest characteristics of her mystic genealogy. In\naddition to the antediluvian casket, she brought the husband, who was\nexactly double her age, a dower of beauty and sweetness that surpassed\neven the lofty pride that was her birthright. For four years they were\nas happy as two sojourners in this valley of tears could well be. Then\nthe young wife began to droop, perishing away slowly before her husband\u2019s\neyes. \u201cTake her to the Nile for a year; there is just a chance that\nthat may save her,\u201d said the doctors. Armengarde did not hear the cruel\nverdict; and when Raymond came back one day after a short absence,\nand announced that he had come in unexpectedly to a sum of money, and\nproposed their spending the winter in Egypt, she clapped her hands,\nand made ready for the journey. Raymond watched her delight like one\ntransfigured, while she, suspecting nothing, took his happiness as a\ncertain pledge of restored health, and went singing about the house, as\nif the promise were already fulfilled. The whole place revived in a new\natmosphere of hope and security; the low ceilings, festooned with the\ncobwebs of a generation, grew alight with cheerfulness, and the sunbeams\nstreamed more freely through the dingy panes of the deep windows. It was\nas if some stray ray from heaven had crept into the old keep, lighting it\nup with a brightness not of earth.\n\nAng\u00e9lique was to go with them in charge of little Franceline, their only\nchild.\n\nIt was on a mild autumn morning, early in October, that the travellers\nset out on their journey toward the Pyramids. The birds were singing,\nthough the sun was hiding behind the clouds; but as Raymond de la\nBourbonais looked back from the gate to catch a last glimpse of the home\nthat was no longer his, the clouds suddenly parted, and the sun burst\nout in a stream of golden light, painting the old keep with shadows of\npathetic beauty, and investing it with a charm he had never seen there\nbefore. Sacrifice, like passion, has its hour of rapture, its crisis\nof mysterious pain, when the soul vibrates between agony and ecstasy.\nA sunbeam lighted upon Raymond\u2019s head, encircling it like a halo. \u201cMy\nRaymond, you look like an angel; see, there is a glory round your head!\u201d\ncried Armengarde.\n\n\u201cIt is because I am so happy!\u201d replied her husband, with a radiant smile.\n\u201cWe are going to the land of the sun, where my pale rose will grow red\nagain.\u201d\n\nThe sacrifice was not quite in vain. She was spared to him four years;\nthen she died, and he laid her to rest under the shade of the great\nPyramid, where they told him that Abraham and Sara were sleeping.\n\nWhen M. de la Bourbonais set foot on his native soil again, he was a\nbeggar. The money he had received for the castle and the small bit of\nland belonging to it had just sufficed to keep up the happy delusion\nwith Armengarde to the last, and bring him and Franceline and Ang\u00e9lique\nhome; the three landed at Marseilles with sufficient money to keep them\nfor one month, using it economically. Meantime the count must look\nfor employment, trusting to Providence rather than to man. Providence\ndid not fail him. Help was at hand in the shape of one of those kind\ndispensations that we call lucky chances, and which are oftener found in\nthe track of chivalrous souls than misanthropes like to own. About three\ndays after his arrival in the busy mercantile port, M. de la Bourbonais\nwas walking along the quay, indulging in sad reveries with the vacant air\nand listless gait now habitual to him, when a hand was laid brusquely\non his shoulder. \u201cAs I live, here is the man,\u201d cried Sir Simon Harness.\n\u201cMy dear fellow, you\u2019ve turned up in the very nick of time; but where in\nheaven\u2019s name have you turned up from?\u201d\n\nThe question was soon answered. Sir Simon gave his heartiest sympathy,\nand then told his friend the meaning of the joyous exclamation which had\ngreeted him.\n\n\u201cYou remember a villain of the name of Roy--a notary who played old Harry\nwith some property in shares and so forth that your father entrusted to\nhim just before he fled to England? You must have heard him tell the\nstory many a time, poor fellow. Well, this worthy, as big a blackguard\nas ever cheated the hangman of his fee, was called up to his reckoning\nabout a month ago, and, by way, I suppose, of putting things straight\na bit before he handed in his books, the rascal put a codicil to his\nwill, restoring to you what little remained of the money he swindled\nyour poor father out of. It is placed in bank shares--a mere pittance\nof the original amount; but it will keep your head above water just\nfor the present, and meantime we must look about for something for you\nat headquarters--some stick at the court or a nice little government\nappointment. The executors have been advertising for you in every\ndirection; it\u2019s the luckiest chance, my just meeting you in time to give\nthe good news.\u201d\n\nRaymond was thankful for the timely legacy, but he would not hear of a\nstir being made to secure him either stick or place. He was too proud\nto sue at the hands of the regicide\u2019s son who now sat on the throne of\nLouis Seize, nor would he accept an appointment at his court, supposing\nit offered unsolicited. The pittance that, in Sir Simon\u2019s opinion, was\nenough to keep him above water for a time, would be, with his simple\nhabits, enough to float him for the rest of his life. He had, it is true,\nvisions of future wealth for Franceline, but these were to be realized\nby the product of his own brain, not by the pay of a courtly sinecure\nor government office. Finding him inexorable on this point, Sir Simon\nceased to urge it. He was confident that a life of poverty and obscurity\nwould soon bring down the rigid royalist\u2019s pride; but meantime where was\nhe to live? Raymond had no idea. Life in a town was odious to him. He\nwanted the green fields and quiet of the country for his studies; but\nwhere was he to seek them now? He had no mind to go back to Lorraine\nand live like a peasant, in sight of his old home, that was now in the\nhands of strangers. \u201cCome to England,\u201d said Sir Simon. \u201cYou\u2019ll stay with\nme until you grow home-sick and want to leave us. No one will interfere\nwith you; you can work away at your books, and be as much of a hermit\nas you like.\u201d Raymond accepted the invitation, but only till he should\nfind some suitable little home for himself in the neighborhood. Within\na week he found himself installed at Dullerton Court with Franceline\nand Ang\u00e9lique. The same rooms that his father had occupied sixty years\nbefore, and which had ever since been called the count\u2019s apartments,\nwere prepared for them. They were very little changed by the wear and\ntear of the intervening half-century. There were the same costly hangings\nto the gilt four-post beds, the same grim, straight-nosed Queen Elizabeth\nstaring down from the tapestry, out of her stiff ruffles, on one wall;\nthe same faded David and Goliath wrestling on the other. Raymond could\nremember how the pictures used to fascinate him when he was a tiny boy,\nand how he used to lie awake in his little bed and keep his eyes fixed\non them, and wonder whether the two would ever leave off fighting, and\nif the big man would not jump up suddenly and knock down the little man,\nwho was sticking something into his chest. Outside the house the scene\nwas just as unchanged; the lake was in the same place, and it seemed\nas if the swan that was sitting in the middle of it, with folded sails\nand one leg tucked under his wing, was the identical one that the young\ncountess used to feed, and that Raymond cried to be let ride on. The\ndeer were glancing through the distant glade, just as he remembered them\nas a child, starting at every sound, and tossing their antlers in the\nsunlight; the gray stone of the grand castellated house may have been a\ntinge darker for the smoke and fog of the sixty additional years, but\nthis was not noticeable; the sunbeams sent dashes of golden light across\nthe flanking towers with their dark ivy draperies, and into the deep\nmullioned windows, where the queer small panes hid themselves, as if they\nwere ashamed to be seen, just as in the old days; the fountain sent up\nits crystal showers on the broad sweep of the terrace, and the lime and\nthe acacia trees sheltering the gravel walks that led through grassy\nopenings into the enclosed flower-garden were as dark and as shady as of\nyore; the clumps on the mounds swelling here and there through the park\nhad not outgrown the shapes they were in Raymond\u2019s memory; the lawn was\nas smooth and green as when he rolled over its mossy turf, to the utter\ndetriment of fresh-frilled pinafores and white frocks.\n\nIt was a pleasant resting-place, a palm-grove in the wilderness, where\nthe wayfarer might halt peacefully, and take breath for the rest of\nthe journey. Yet Raymond was determined not to tarry there longer than\nwas absolutely needful. Sir Simon did all that a host could do to\nmake him prolong his stay; but he was inexorable. He spied out a tiny\nbrick cottage perched on a bit of rising ground just below the park,\nhalf-smothered in moss and lichens. It was beautifully situated as to\nview; flowing meadows sloped down before it towards the river; beyond\nthe river corn-fields stretched out towards the woods, that rose like\ndark waves breaking at the foot of the purple hills; the cottage was\ncalled The Lilies, and contained six rooms, three above and three below,\nincluding the kitchen. When Raymond offered himself as a tenant for it,\nthe baronet burst into a ringing laugh that scared the stately swan out\nof his dignity, and sent him scudding over the water like a frightened\ngoose. But Raymond was not to be laughed out of his purpose; he should\nhave The Lilies, or he would go away. He must have it, too, like any\nordinary tenant, on the same conditions, neither better nor worse. The\nlease was accordingly drawn out in due form, and M. de la Bourbonais\nentered into possession after a very short delay. The room that was\nintended for a drawing-room was fitted up with the count\u2019s books--the\nfew special treasures he had rescued from the fate of all his goods\nand chattels four years ago--and was called the library. It was not\nmuch bigger than a good-sized book-case, but it would answer all the\npurposes of a sitting-room for the present; Franceline would never be\nin his way, and might sit there as much as she liked. The landlord had\nhad a little scheme of his own about the furnishing of the cottage, and\nhad sent for a London tradesman to this effect, intending to surprise\nRaymond by having it all ready for him. But Raymond was as impracticable\nhere as about the lease. Sir Simon was annoyed. Raymond contrived to\nfoil him and have his own way in everything. He seemed to be half his\ntime in the moon; but when you wanted him to stay there, he was suddenly\nwide-awake and as wilful as a mule. There was a substratum of steel\nsomewhere in him, in spite of his gentleness; and though it never hurt\nyou, it repelled you when you came against it every now and then, and\nit was provoking. There was altogether something about Raymond that\nmystified Sir Simon. To see a man as refined and sensitive as he was,\nendowed with the hereditary instincts that make affluence a necessity\nof existence to a gentleman, settling down into the conditions and\nabode of the smallest of small farmers, and doing it as cheerfully as\nif he were perfectly contented with the prospect, was something beyond\nSir Simon\u2019s comprehension. To him life without wealth--not for its own\nsake, but for what it gives and hinders--was merely a sentence of penal\nservitude. Raymond had always been poor, he knew; but poverty in the\nantique splendor of decayed ancestral halls, with the necessaries of\nlife provided as by a law of nature, and in the midst of a loyal and\nreverent peasantry, was a very different sort of poverty from what he was\nnow embarking on. He would sometimes fix his eyes on Raymond when he was\nbusying himself, with apparently great satisfaction, on some miserable\ntrifle that Ang\u00e9lique wanted done in her room or in the kitchen, and\nwonder whether it was genuine or feigned, whether sorrow or philosophy\nhad so deadened him to external conditions as to make him indifferent to\nthe material meanness and miseries of his position. He never heard a word\nof regret, or any expression that could be construed into regret, escape\nhim in their most familiar conversations. Once Raymond, in speaking of\npoverty, had confessed that he had never believed it had any power to\nmake men unhappy--such poverty as his had been--until he felt the touch\nof its cruel finger on his Armengarde; then he realized the fact in its\nfull bitterness. But he had foiled the tormenter by a sublime fraud\nof love, and saved his own heart from an anguish that would have been\nmore intolerable than remorse. Sir Simon remembered the expression of\nRaymond\u2019s face as he said this; the smile of gentle triumph that it wore,\nas if gratitude for the rescue and the sacrifice had alone survived. He\nconcluded that it was so; that Raymond had forgiven poverty, since he had\nconquered her; and that now he could take her to live with him like a\nsnake that had lost its sting, or some bright-spotted wild beast that he\nhad wrestled with and tamed, and might henceforth sport with in safety.\n\nSir Simon found it hard to reconcile this serene philosophical state\nof mind with his friend\u2019s insurmountable reluctance to accept the least\nmaterial service, while, on the other hand, he took with avidity any\namount of affection and sympathy that was offered to him. It was because\nhe felt that he could repay these in kind; whereas for the others he\nmust remain an insolvent debtor. \u201cBourbonais, that is sheer nonsense and\ninconsistency. I wouldn\u2019t give a button for your philosophy, if it can\u2019t\nput you above such weakness. It\u2019s absurd; you ought to struggle against\nit and overcome it.\u201d This was the baronet\u2019s pet formula; he was always\nready with this advice to his friends. Raymond never contested the wisdom\nof the proposition, or Sir Simon\u2019s right to enunciate it; but in this\nparticular at least he did not adopt it.\n\nThe gentry of the neighborhood called in due course at The Lilies,\nand M. de la Bourbonais punctiliously returned the civility, and here\nthe intercourse ended. He would accept no hospitality that he was not\nin a position to return. He was on very good terms with his immediate\nneighbors, who were none of them formidable people. There was Mr.\nLangrove, the vicar of Dullerton, and Father Henwick, the Catholic\npriest, and Miss Bulpit and Miss Merrywig, two maiden ladies, who were in\ntheir separate ways prominent institutions of the place. These four, with\nSir Simon, were the only persons who could boast of being on visiting\nterms with the shy, polite foreigner who bowed to every old apple-woman\non the road as if she were a duchess, and kept the vulgar herd of the\ntown and the fine people of the county as much at a distance as if he\nwere an exiled sovereign who declined to receive the homage of other\nsubjects than his own.\n\nFranceline had been eight years at Dullerton, and was now in her\nseventeenth year. She was very beautiful, as she stood leaning on the\ngarden-rail amongst the lilies, looking like a lily herself, with one\ndove perched upon her finger, while another alighted on her head, and\ncooed to it. She was neither a blonde nor a brunette, as we classify\nthem, but a type between the two. Her complexion was of that peculiar\nwhiteness that we see in fair northern women, Scandinavians and Poles; as\nclear as ivory and as colorless, the bright vermilion of the finely cut,\nsensitive mouth alone relieving its pallor. Yet her face was deficient\nneither in warmth nor light; the large, almond-shaped eyes, flashing\nin shadow, sometimes black, sometimes purple gray, lighted it better\nthan the pinkest roses could have done; and if the low arch of the dark\neyebrows gave a tinge of severity to it, the impression was removed by\ntwo saucy dimples that lurked in either cheek, and were continually\nbreaking out of their hiding-places, and brightening the pensive features\nlike a sunbeam. Franceline\u2019s voice had a note in it that was as bright as\nher dimples. It rang through the brick cottage like the sound of running\nwater; and when she laughed, it was so hearty that you laughed with\nher from very sympathy. Such a creature would have been in her proper\nsphere in a palace, treading on pink marble, and waited on by a retinue\nof pages. But she was not at all out of place at The Lilies; perhaps,\nnext to the palace and pink marble, she could not have alighted in a\nmore appropriate frame than this mossy flower-bed to which a capricious\ndestiny had transplanted her. She seemed quite as much a fitting part\nof the place as the tall, majestic lilies on either side of the\ngarden-gate. But as regarded Dullerton beyond the garden-gate, she was\nas much out of place as a gazelle in a herd of Alderney cows. Dullerton\nwas the very ideal of commonplace, the embodiment of respectability and\ndulness--wealthy, fat-of-the-land dulness; if a prize had been set up for\nthat native commodity, Dullerton would certainly have carried it over\nevery county in England. There was no reason why it should have been so\ndull, for it possessed quite as many external elements of sociability\nas other provincial neighborhoods, and the climate was no foggier than\nelsewhere; everybody was conscious of the dulness, and complained of it\nto everybody else, but nobody did anything to mend matters. There was,\nnevertheless, a good deal of intercourse one way or another; a vast\namount of food was interchanged between the big houses, and the smaller\nones periodically called in the neighbors to roll croquet-balls about\non the wet grass, and sip tea under the dripping trees; for it seemed\na law of nature that the weather was wet on this social occasion. But\nnothing daunted the good-will of the natives; they dressed themselves in\nmuslins, pink, white, and blue, and came and played croquet, and drank\ntea, and bored themselves, and went away declaring they had never been\nat such a stupid affair in their lives. The gentlemen were always in a\nfeeble minority at these festive gatherings, and, instead of multiplying\nthemselves to supplement numbers by zeal, they had a habit of getting\ntogether in a group to discuss the crops and the game-laws, leaving their\nwives and daughters to seek refuge in county gossip, match-making, or\nparish affairs, according to their separate tastes. Dullerton was not a\nscandal-mongering place. Its gossip was mostly of an innocent kind; the\niniquities of servants the difficulties of getting a tolerable cook or a\nhousemaid that knew her business, recipes for economical soups for the\npoor, the best place to buy flannels, etc., formed the staple subjects of\nthe matrons\u2019 conversation. The young ladies dressed themselves bravely in\nabsolute defiance of the rudiments of art and taste; vied with each other\nin disguising their heads--some of them very pretty ones--under monstrous\n_chignons_ and outlandish head-gears; practised the piano, rode on\nhorseback, and wondered who Mr. Charlton would eventually marry; whether\nhis attentions to Miss X---- meant anything, or whether he was only\nplaying her off against Miss Z----. Mr. Charlton was the only eligible\nyoung man resident within a radius of fifteen miles of Dullerton, and\nwas consequently the target for many enterprising bows and arrows. For\nnine years he had kept mothers and daughters in harassing suspense as to\n\u201cwhat he meant\u201d; and, instead of reforming as he grew older, he was more\ntantalizing than ever now at the mature age of thirty-two. Mothers and\nmaidens were still on the _qui-vive_, and lived in perpetual hot water\nas to the real intentions of the owner of Moorlands and six thousand\na year. He had, besides this primary claim on social consideration,\nanother that would in itself have made him master of the situation\nin Dullerton: he had a fine voice, and sang a capital song; and this\nadvantage Mr. Charlton used somewhat unkindly. He was as capricious with\nhis voice as in his attentions, and it was a serious preoccupation with\nthe dinner-givers whether he would make the evening go off delightfully\nby singing one of his songs with that enchanting high C, or leave it to\nits native dulness by refusing to sing at all. The moods and phases of\nthe tyrannical tenor were, in fact, watched as eagerly by the expectant\nhostess as the antics of the needle on the eve of a picnic.\n\nThe one house of that side of the county where people did not bore\nthemselves was Dullerton Court. They congregated here, predetermined\nto enjoy something more than eating and drinking; and they were never\ndisappointed. There was nothing in the entertainments themselves\nto explain this fact; the house was indeed on a grander scale of\narchitecture, more palatial than any other country mansion in those\nparts; but the people who met there, and chatted and laughed and went\naway in high satisfaction with themselves and each other, were the same\nwho congregated in the other houses to yawn and be bored, and go away\ngrumbling. The secret of the difference lay entirely in the host. Sir\nSimon Harness came into the world endowed with a faculty that predestined\nhim to rule over a certain class of men--the dull and dreary class;\npeople who have no vital heat of their own, but are for ever trying to\nwarm themselves at other people\u2019s fires. He had, moreover, the genius of\nhospitality in all its charms. He welcomed every commonplace acquaintance\nwith a heartiness that put the visitor in instantaneous good-humor with\nhimself and his host and all the world. Society was his life; he could\nnot live without it. He enjoyed his fellow-creatures, and he delighted\nin having them about him; his house was open to his friends at all\ntimes and seasons. What else was a house good for? What pleasure could\na man take in his house, unless it was full of friends? Unhappily for\nDullerton, Sir Simon was a frequent absentee. Some said that he could\nnot stand its dulness for long at a time, and that this was why he was\ncontinually on the road to Paris and Vienna and the sunny shores of\nItaly and Spain. But this could not be true; you had only to witness his\nmercurial gayety in the midst of his Dullerton friends, and hear the ring\nof his loud, manly voice when he shook them by the hand and bade them\nwelcome, to be convinced that he enjoyed them to the full as much as\nthey enjoyed him. It is true that since M. de la Bourbonais had come to\nbe his neighbor, the squire was less of a rover than formerly. When he\nwas at home, he spent a great deal of time at The Lilies--a circumstance\nwhich gave Dullerton a great deal to talk about, and raised the reserved,\ncourteous recluse a great many pegs in the estimation of the county.\nThe baronet and his friend had many points of sympathy besides the\nprimary one of old hereditary friendship, though they were as dissimilar\nin tastes and character as any two could be. This dissimilarity was,\nhowever, a part of the mutual attraction. Sir Simon was an inexhaustible\ntalker, and M. de la Bourbonais an indefatigable listener; he had what\nVoltaire called a talent for holding his tongue. But this negative\ncondition of a good listener was not his only one; he possessed in a\nrare degree all the merits that go to the composition of that delightful\npersonage. Most people, while you are talking to them, are more occupied\nin thinking what they will say to you than in attending to what you\nare saying to them, and these people are miserable listeners. M. de\nla Bourbonais gave his whole mind to what you were saying, and never\nthought of his answer until the time came to give it. He not only seemed\ninterested, he really was interested, in your discourse; and he would\nfrequently hear more in it than it was meant to convey, supplying from\nhis own quick intelligence what was wanting in your crude, disjointed\nremarks. There was nothing in a quiet way that Sir Simon liked better\nthan an hour\u2019s talk with his tenant, and he always came away from the\nluxury of having been listened to by a cultivated, philosophical mind in\nhigh good-humor with himself. His vanity, moreover, was flattered by the\nfact beyond the mere personal gratification it afforded him. Everybody\nknew that the French _emigr\u00e9_ was a man of learning, given to abstruse\nstudy of some abstract kind; the convivial squire must therefore be more\nlearned than he cared to make believe, since this philosophical student\ntook such pleasure in his society. When his fox-hunting friends would\ntwit him jocosely on this score, Sir Simon would pooh-pooh them with a\nlaugh, observing in a careless way: \u201cOne must dip into this sort of thing\nnow and then, you see, or else one\u2019s brain gets rusty. I don\u2019t care much\nmyself about splitting hairs on Descartes or untwisting the fibres of a\nGreek root, but it amuses Bourbonais; you see he has so few to talk to\nwho can listen to this sort of thing.\u201d It was true that the conversation\ndid occasionally take such learned turns, and equally true that M. de la\nBourbonais enjoyed airing his views on the schools and dissecting roots,\nand that Sir Simon felt elevated in his own opinion when the count\ncaught up some hazardous remark of his on one of the classic authors,\nand worked it up into an elaborate defence of the said author; and\nwhen, on their next meeting, Raymond would accost him with \u201cMon cher, I\ndidn\u2019t quite see at the moment what you meant by pointing that line from\nSophocles at me, but I see now,\u201d Sir Simon would purr inwardly like a\nstroked cat. Every now and then, too, he would startle the Grand Jury\nby the brilliancy of his classical quotations, and the way in which he\nbore down on them with a weight of argument worthy of a Q.C. in high\npractice; little they dreamed that the whole case had been sifted the day\nbefore by the orator\u2019s learned friend, who had analyzed it, and put it in\nshape for the rhetorical purpose of the morrow. The baronet was serenely\nunconscious of being a plagiarist; he had got into a way of sucking his\nfriend\u2019s brains, until he honestly thought they were his own.\n\nThis intellectual piracy is not so rare, perhaps, as at first sight you\nmay imagine. It would be a curious revelation if our own minds could be\nlaid bare to us, and we were enabled to see how far their workings are\noriginal and how far imitative. We should, I fancy, be startled to find\nhow small a proportion the former bears to the latter, and how much that\nwe consider the spontaneous operation of our minds is, in reality, but\nthe reflex of the minds of others, and the unconscious reproduction of\nthoughts and ideas that are suggested by things outside of us.\n\nFranceline\u2019s _bonne_, as she still called her, though Ang\u00e9lique had\npassed from that single capacity into the complex position of butler,\ncook, housemaid, lady\u2019s maid, and general factotum at The Lilies, was\nas complete a contrast to a name as ever mortal presented. A gaunt,\nhigh-cheek-boned, grizzly-haired woman, with a squint and a sharp,\naggressive chin, every inch of her body protested against the mockery\nthat had labelled her angelic. She had a gruff voice like a man\u2019s, and a\ntrick of tossing her head and falling back in her chair when she answered\nyou that had gained her the nickname of the French grenadier amongst\nthe rising generation of Dullerton. Yet the kernel of this rough husk\nwas as tender and mellow as a peach, and differed from the outer woman\nas much as the outer woman differed from her name. When the small boys\nfollowed her round the market, laughing at her under her very nose, and\naccompanying their vernacular comments with very explicative gestures,\nthe French grenadier had not the heart to stop the performance by sending\nthe actors to the right-about, as she might have done with one shake\nof her soldier-like fist; but if they had dared to look crooked at\nFranceline, or play off the least of their tricks on M. de la Bourbonais,\nshe would have punched their heads for them, and sent them off yelling\nwith broken noses without the smallest compunction. Ang\u00e9lique had found a\nhusband in her youth, and when he died she had transferred all her wifely\nsolicitude to her master and his wife and child. She could have given him\nno greater proof of it than by leaving her native village and following\nhim to his foreign home; yet she never let him suspect that the sacrifice\ncost her a pang. She was of a social turn, and it was no small trial\nto be shut out from neighborly chat by her ignorance of the language.\nShe took it out, to be sure, with the count and Franceline, and with\nthe few intimates of The Lilies who spoke French; but, let her improve\nthese opportunities as she might, there was still a great gap in her\nsocial life. Conversation with ladies and gentlemen was one thing, and a\ngood gossip with a neighbor was another. But Ang\u00e9lique kept this grief\nto herself, and never complained. With M. le Cur\u00e9, as she dubbed Father\nHenwick, the Catholic priest of Dullerton, she went the length of shaking\nher head, and observing that people who were in exile had their purgatory\nin this world, and went straight to heaven when they died. Father Henwick\nhad been brought up at S. Sulpice, and spoke French like a native,\nand was as good as a born Frenchman. She could pour her half-uttered\npinings into his ear without fear or scruple; her dreams of returning\n_dans mon pays_ at some future day, when M. le Comte would have married\nmademoiselle. She could even confide to this trusty ear her anxieties on\nthe latter head, her fear that M. le Comte, being a philosopher, would\nnot know how to go about finding a husband for Franceline. She could\nindulge freely in motherful praises of Franceline\u2019s perfections, and tell\nover and over again the same stories of her nurseling\u2019s babyhood and\nchildhood; how certain traits had frightened her that the _petite_ was\ngoing to turn out a very Jezabel for wickedness, but how she had lived\nto find out her mistake. She loved notably to recall one instance of\nthese juvenile indications of character; when one day, after bellowing\nfor a whole hour without ceasing, the child suddenly stopped, and Mme.\nla Comtesse called out from her pillows under the palm-tree: \u201cAt last!\nThank goodness it\u2019s over!\u201d and how Franceline stamped her small foot,\nand sobbed out: \u201cNo-o-o, it\u2019s not over! I repose myself!\u201d and began\nagain louder than ever. And how another day, when a powerful Arab who\nwas leading her mule over the hills suddenly lashed his whip across the\nshoulders of a little boy fast asleep on the pathway, waking him up\nwith a howl of pain, Franceline clutched her little fist and struck the\nsavage a box on the ear, screaming at him in French: \u201cO you wicked! I\nwish you were a thief, and I\u2019d lock you up! I wish you were a murderer,\nand I\u2019d cut your head off! I wish you were a candle, and I\u2019d blow you\nout!\u201d Father Henwick would listen to the same stories, and delight\nAng\u00e9lique by assuring her for the twentieth time that they were certain\npledges of future strength and decision in the woman. And when Ang\u00e9lique\nwould wind up with the usual remark, \u201cAh! our little one is born for\nsomething great; she would make a famous queen, Monsieur le Cur\u00e9,\u201d he\nwould cordially agree with her, revolving, nevertheless, in his own mind\nthe theory that there are many kinds of greatness, and many queens who go\nthrough life without the coronation ceremony that crowns them with the\noutward symbols of royalty.\n\nMiss Merrywig was another of Ang\u00e9lique\u2019s friends; but she had not been\neducated at S. Sulpice, and so the intercourse was sustained under\ndifficulties. Her French was something terrific. She ignored genders,\ndespised moods and tenses; and as to such interlopers as adverbs and\nprepositions, Miss Merrywig treated them with the contempt they deserved.\nHer mode of proceeding was extremely simple: she took a bundle of\ninfinitives in one hand, and pronouns and adjectives in another, and\nshook them up together, and they fell into place the best way they could.\nIt was wonderful how, somehow or other, they turned into sentences, and\nAng\u00e9lique, by dint of good-will, always guessed what Miss Merrywig was\ndriving at. A great bond between them was their love of a bargain. Miss\nMerrywig delighted in a bargain as only an old maid with an income of two\nhundred pounds a year can delight in it. She had, moreover, a passion\nfor making everybody guess what she paid for things. This harmless\npeculiarity was apt to be a nuisance to her friends. The first thing she\ndid after investing in a remnant of some sort, or a second-hand article,\nwas to carry it the rounds of Dullerton, and insist on everybody\u2019s\nguessing how much it cost.\n\n\u201cMake a guess! You know what a good linsey costs, and you see this is\npure wool; you can see that? you have only to feel it. Just feel it! It\u2019s\nas soft as cashmere. That\u2019s what tempted me. I don\u2019t want it _exactly_,\nbut then I mightn\u2019t get _such_ a bargain when I did want it; and, as the\nyoung man at Willis\u2019 said--they\u2019re so _uncommonly_ civil at Willis\u2019!--a\ngood article _always_ brings its value; and there was no denying it _was_\na bargain, and one never _can_ go wrong in taking a good thing when one\ngets it cheap; and they do mix cotton so much with the wool nowadays that\none can\u2019t be too particular, as my dear mother used to say, though in her\ntime it was of course very different. Now you\u2019ve examined it, what do\nyou think I gave for it?\u201d There was no getting out of it: you might try\nto fight off on the plea that you had no experience in linseys, that you\nwere no judge--Miss Merrywig would take no excuse.\n\n\u201cWell, but give a guess. Say something. What would you consider _cheap_?\nYou know what a stuff all pure wool _ought_ to be worth. Just give a\nguess. Remember, it was a bargain!\u201d Thus adjured and driven into a\ncorner, you timidly ventured a sum, and, whether you hit it or not,\nMiss Merrywig was aggrieved. If you fell below the mark, there was no\ndescribing her astonishment and disappointment. \u201cFifteen shillings! Dear\n_me_! Why, that\u2019s the price of a common alpaca! Fifteen shillings! Good\n_gracious_! Oh? you can\u2019t _mean_ it. Do guess again.\u201d\n\nAnd when, to console her, you guessed double, and it happened to be\nright, she was still inconsolable.\n\n\u201cSo you don\u2019t think it was a bargain after all! Dear me! Well that _is_\na disappointment. All I can say is that my dear mother had a linsey that\nwas not one atom softer or stronger than this, and she paid just double\nfor it--three pounds; she did indeed; she told me so _herself_, poor\nsoul. I often heard her speak highly of that linsey when I was a child,\nand I quite well remember her saying that it had cost three pounds, and\nthat it had been well worth the money.\u201d\n\nYou might cry _peccavi_, and eat your words, and declare your conviction\nthat it was the greatest windfall you ever heard of; nothing would pacify\nMiss Merrywig until she had carried her bargain to some one else, and had\nit guessed at a higher figure, which you were pretty sure to be informed\nof at the earliest opportunity, and triumphantly upbraided for your want\nof appreciation. Ang\u00e9lique was a great comfort to Miss Merrywig on this\nhead. She loved a bargain dearly, and was proud of showing that she knew\nthe difference between one that was and one that was not; accordingly,\nshe was one of the first to whom Miss Merrywig submitted a new purchase.\n\u201cVoyons!\u201d the grenadier would say, and then she would take out her\nspectacles, wipe them, adjust them on her nose, and then deliberately rub\nthe tissue between her finger and thumb, look steadily at Miss Merrywig,\nas if trying to gather a hint before committing herself, and then give an\nopinion. She generally premised with the cautious formula: \u201cDans mon pays\nit would be so-and-so. Of course I can only make a guess in this country;\nprices differ.\u201d She was not often far astray; but even when she was, this\npreface disarmed Miss Merrywig, and, when Ang\u00e9lique hit the mark, her\nsatisfaction was unbounded. Other people might say she had been cheated,\nor that she had paid the full value of the thing. There was Comte de la\nBourbonais\u2019 French maid, who said it was the _greatest_ bargain she had\n_ever_ seen; and being a Frenchwoman, and accustomed to French stuffs,\nshe was more likely to know than people who had never been out of England\nin the whole course of their lives.\n\nThe other old maid who occupied a prominent position at Dullerton, and\nwas on friendly terms with the grenadier, was Miss Bulpit. It would be\ndifficult to meet with a greater contrast between any two people than\nbetween Miss Bulpit and Miss Merrywig. The latter talked in italics,\nemphasizing all the small words of her discourse, so as to throw\neverything out of joint. Miss Bulpit spoke \u201cin mournful numbers,\u201d brought\nout her sentences as slowly as a funeral knell, and was altogether\nfunereal in her aspect. She was tall and lank, and wore a black silk\nwig, pasted in melancholy braids on either side of her face--a perfect\nfoil to the gay little curls that danced on Miss Merrywig\u2019s forehead\nlike so many little bells keeping time to her tongue. Miss Bulpit was\nenthroned on a pedestal of one thousand five hundred pounds a year,\nand attended by all the substantial honors that spring from such a\nfoundation. She was fully alive to the advantages of her position, and\nhad never married from the fear of being sought more for her money\nthan for herself. So, at least, rumor has it. Mr. Tobes, the Wesleyan\nclergyman of the next parish, whose awakening sermons decoyed the black\nsheep of the surrounding folds to him, had tried for the prize for\nmore than seven years, but in vain. Miss Bulpit smiled with benevolent\ncondescension on his assiduities, allowed him to meet her at the railway\nstation and to hand her a bouquet occasionally; but this was the extent\nof his reward. He persevered, however; and, when Miss Bulpit shook her\nblack silk head at him with a melancholy smile and a reproof for wasting\non her the precious time that belonged to his flock, Mr. Tobes would\nreply that the laborer was worthy of his hire, and that no man could live\nwithout an occasional recompense for his labors.\n\nMiss Bulpit was the lowest of the Low-Church, so zealous in propagating\nher own views as to be a severe trial to the vicar, Mr. Langrove. The\nvicar was a shy, scholarly man and a great lover of peace, but he was\noften hard pushed to keep the peace with Miss Bulpit. She crossed him in\nevery way, and defied him to his very face; but it was done so mildly,\nwith such an unction of zeal and such a sincere desire to correct his\nerrors and make up for his shortcomings, that it was impossible to treat\nher like an ordinary antagonist. She had a soup-kitchen and a dispensary\nin her own house, where the poor of his parish were fed and healed; and\nif Miss Bulpit made these material things the medium of dealing with\ntheir souls, and if they chose to be dealt with, how could Mr. Langrove\ninterfere to prevent it? If she had a call to break the word to others,\nwhy should she not obey it just as he obeyed his? He had his pulpit,\nwhich she did not interfere with--a mercy for which the vicar was not,\nperhaps, sufficiently grateful. Miss Bulpit was limited to no restriction\nof place or time; she could preach anywhere and at a moment\u2019s notice;\nthe water was always at high pressure, and only wanted a touch to set\nit flowing into any channel; the cottages, the wards of the hospital,\nthe village school, the roadside, any place was a rostrum for her. If\nshe met a group of laborers going home with their spades over their\nshoulders, Miss Bulpit would accost them with a few good words; and if\nthey took them well, as their class mostly do from ladies, she would\nplunge into the promiscuous depths of that awful leather bag of hers that\nwas Mr. Langrove\u2019s horror, and evolve from a chaos of pill-boxes, socks,\nspectacles, soap, black draughts, buns, and bobbins, a packet of tracts,\nand, selecting an appropriate one, she would proceed to expound it, and\nwind up with a few texts out of the little black Testament that lived\nby itself in an outside pocket of the black leather bag. This state of\nthings would have been bad enough, even if Miss Bulpit had held sound\nviews; but what made it infinitely worse was that her orthodoxy was more\nthan doubtful. But there was no way of putting her in her place. She was\ntoo rich for that. If she had been a poor woman, like Miss Merrywig,\nit would have been easy enough; but Miss Bulpit\u2019s fortune had built a\nbulwark of defence round her, and against these stout walls the vicar\u2019s\nshafts might be pointed in perfect safety to the enemy. It was a great\nmercy if they did not recoil on himself. Some persons accused him of\nbeing ungrateful. How could he quarrel with her for preaching in the\nschool when she had re-roofed it for him, after he had spent six months\nin fruitless appeals to the board to do it? How could the authorities of\nthe hospital refuse her the satisfaction of saying a few serious words to\nthe inmates, when she supplied them with unlimited port-wine and jellies,\nand other delicacies which the authorities could not provide? It was very\ndifficult to turn out a benefactor who paid liberally for her privileges,\nand had so firm a footing in every charitable institution of the county.\nThe vicar was not on vantage-ground in his struggle to hold his own. Miss\nBulpit was a pillar of the state of Dullerton. There were not a few who\nwhispered that if either must go to the wall, it had better be the parson\nthan the parishioner. Coals were at famine prices; soup and port-wine are\ncomforting to the soul of man, and the donor\u2019s strictures on S. James and\nexclusive enthusiasm for S. Paul were things that could be tolerated by\nthose whom they did not concern.\n\nFranceline had been to see Miss Merrywig, who lived like a lizard in\nthe grass, with a willow weeping copious tears over her mouldy little\ncottage. The cheerful old lady always spoke with thankfulness of\nthe quiet and comfort of her home, and believed that everybody must\nenvy her its picturesque situation, to say nothing of the delights of\nbeing wakened by the larks before daylight, and kept awake long after\nmidnight by the nightingales. The woods at Dullerton were alive with\nnightingales. On emerging from the damp darkness after an hour with Miss\nMerrywig, Franceline found that the sun had climbed up to the zenith, and\nwas pouring down a sultry glow that made the earth smoke again. There\nwas a stile at the end of the wood, and she sat down to rest herself\nunder the thick shade of a sycamore. The stillness of the noon was on\neverything. A few lively linnets tried to sing; but, the effort being\nprompted solely by duty, after a while they gave it up, and withdrew to\nthe coolest nooks, and enjoyed their siesta like the lazy ones. Nobody\nstirred, except the insects that were chirping in the grass, and some\nbees that sailed from flower to flower, buzzing and doing field-labor\nwhen everybody else was asleep or idle. To the right the fields were\nbrimful of ripening grain of every shade of gold; the deep-orange corn\nwas overflowing into the pale amber of the rye, and the bearded barley\nwas washing the hedge that walled it off from the lemon-colored wheat.\nTo the left the rich grass-lands were dotted with flocks and herds. In\nthe nearest meadow some cattle were herding. It was too hot to eat, so\nthey stood surveying the fulness of the earth with mild, bovine gaze.\nThey might have been sphinxes, they were so still; not a muscle in their\nsleek bodies moved, except that a tail lashed out against the flies now\nand then. Some were in the open field, holding up their white horns to\nthe sunlight; others were grouped in twos and threes under a shady tree;\nbut the noontide hush was on them all. Presently a number of horses\ncame trooping leisurely up to the pond near the stile; the mild-eyed\nkine moved their slow heads after the procession, and then, one by one,\ntrooped on with it. The noise of the hoofs plashing into the water, and\nthe loud lapping of the thirsty tongues, was like a drink to the hot\nsilence. Franceline watched them lifting their wet mouths, all dripping,\nfrom the pool, and felt as if she had been drinking too. There was a\nlong, solemn pause, and then a sound like the blast of an organ rose up\nfrom the pond, swelling and sweeping over the fields; before it died away\na calf in a distant paddock answered it.\n\nIf any one had told Franceline, as she sat on her stile, thinking sweet,\nnothing-at-all thoughts, under the sycamore tree, that she was communing\nwith nature, she would have opened her dark eyes at them, and laughed.\nIt was true, nevertheless. She might not know it, but she drew a great\ndeal of her happiness from the woods and fields, and the birds and the\nsunsets. Her life had been from its babyhood, comparatively speaking, a\nsolitary one, and the want, or rather the absence, of kindred companions\nhad driven her unconsciously into companionship with nature. Her father\u2019s\nsociety was a melancholy one enough for a young girl. Raymond\u2019s mind\nwas like an \u00e6olian harp set up in a ruin; every breath of wind that\nswept over it drew out sounds of sweet but mournful music. Even his\ncheerfulness--and it was uniform and genuine--had a note of sadness in\nit, like a lively air set in a minor key; there was nothing morbid or\nharsh in his spirit, but it was entirely out of tune with youth. He\nwas perfectly resigned to life, but the spring was broken; he looked\non at Franceline\u2019s young gayety, as he might do at the flutterings and\nsoarings of her doves, with infinite admiration, but without the faintest\nresponse within himself. So the child grew up as much alone as a bird\nmight be with creatures of a different nature, and made herself a little\nworld of her own--not a dream world, in the sense of ordinary romance;\nshe had read no novels and knew nothing about the great problem of the\nhuman heart, except what its own promptings may have whispered to her.\nShe made friends with the flowers and the birds and the woods, and loved\nthem as if they were living companions. She watched their comings and\ngoings, and found out their secrets, and got into a way of talking to\nthem and telling them hers. As a child, the first peep of the snowdrop\nand the first call of the cuckoo was as exciting an event to her as the\narrival of a new toy or a new dress to other little girls. She found S.\nFrancis of Assisi\u2019s beautiful hymn to his \u201cbrother, the sun, and his\nsisters, the moon and the stars,\u201d one day in an old book of her father\u2019s,\nand she learned it by heart, and would warble it in a duet with the\nnightingale out of her lattice-window sometimes when Ang\u00e9lique fancied\nher fast asleep. As she grew up the mystery of the poem grew clearer\nto her, and she repeated it with a deeper sense of sympathy with the\nbrothers and sisters that dwell in the sky, and the clear, pure water,\nand everywhere in the beautiful creation. I am sorry if this sounds\nunnatural, but I cannot help it. I am describing Franceline as I knew\nher. But I don\u2019t think it will seem unnatural if you notice the effect\nof surroundings on delicate-fibred children; how easily they follow the\nlights we hold out to them, and how vibratile their little spirits are.\nThere was no absolute want of child society at Dullerton, any more than\ngrown-up society; but Franceline de la Bourbonais did not care for it\nsomehow. She felt shy amongst the noisy, romping children that swarmed\nin the nurseries of Dullerton, and they thought her a queer child, and\ndid not get on well with her. The only house where she cared at all to\ngo in her juvenile days was the vicarage; but the attraction was the\nvicar himself, rather than his full home, that was like an aviary of\nchattering parrots and chirping canaries. Now that the parrots were\ngrown up and \u201cgoing out,\u201d Franceline saw very little of them. They were\noccupied making markers on perforated card-board for all their friends,\nor else \u201cdoing up\u201d their dresses for the next dinner or croquet party;\nthe staple topic of their conversation after these entertainments was\nwhy Mr. Charlton took Miss This down to dinner, instead of Miss That;\nwhether it was an accident, or whether there was anything in it; and how\ndivinely Mr. Charlton had sung \u201cAh, non giunge.\u201d These things were not\nthe least interesting to Franceline, who was not \u201cout,\u201d or ever likely to\nbe. Who would take her, and where could she get dresses to go? She hated\nperforated card-board work, and she did not know Mr. Charlton. It was no\nwonder, therefore, she felt out of her element at the vicarage, like a\nwild bird strayed into a cackling farmyard, and that the Langrove girls\nthought her dull and cold.\n\nIt would be a very superficial observer, nevertheless, who would accuse\nFranceline of either coldness or dulness, as she sits there on this\nlovely summer day, her gypsy hat thrown back, and showing the small head\nin its unbroken outline against the sky, with the red gold hair drifting\nin wavy braids from the broad, ivory forehead, while her dark eyes\nglance over the landscape with an intense listening expression, as if\nsome inaudible voices were calling to her. It was very pleasant sitting\nthere in the shade doing nothing, and there is no saying how long she\nmight have indulged in the delicious _far niente_, if a thrush had not\nwakened suddenly in the foliage over her head, and reminded her that it\nwas time to be stirring. It was nearly three hours since she had left\nhome, and Ang\u00e9lique would be wondering what had become of her. With a\nfairy suddenness of motion she rose up, vaulted over the stile with the\nagility of a young kid, and plunged into the teeming field. There was a\nfootpath through it in ordinary times, but it was flooded now, and she\nhad to wade through the rye, putting her arms out before her, as if she\nwere swimming; for a light breeze had sprung up and was blowing the tawny\nwave in ripples almost into her face. She shut her eyes for a moment,\nand, opening them, suddenly fancied she was in the middle of the sea, the\nsun lighting up the yellow depths with myriads of scarlet poppies and\nblue-bells, that shone like fairy sea-weed through the stems. She had not\ngot quite to the end of the last field when she heard a sound of voices\ncoming down the park toward a small gate that opened into the fields. She\nhurried on, thinking it must be Sir Simon, and perhaps her father; and it\nwas not until he was close by the gate that she discovered her mistake.\nOne of the voices belonged to Mr. Charlton, the other to a young man\nwhom she had never seen before. Franceline knew Mr. Charlton by sight.\nShe had met him once at Miss Merrywig\u2019s, who was a particular friend of\nhis--but then everybody was a particular friend of Miss Merrywig\u2019s--and\na few times when she was out walking with Sir Simon and her father, and\nthe young man had stood to shake hands; but this had not led to anything\nbeyond a bowing acquaintance. That was not Mr. Charlton\u2019s fault. There\nwere few things that would have gratified him more than to be able to\nestablish himself as a visitor at The Lilies; but M. de la Bourbonais had\nnot given him the smallest sign of encouragement, so he had to content\nhimself with raising his hat instinctively an inch higher than to any\nother lady of his acquaintance when he met Franceline on the road or in\nthe green lanes--he on horseback, she, of course, on foot; and when the\nyoung French girl returned his salute by that stately little bend of her\nhead, he would ride on with a sense of elation, as if a royal princess\nhad paid him some flattering attention. This was the first time they\nhad met alone on foot. Mr. Charlton\u2019s first impulse was to speak; but\nsomething stronger than first impulse checked him, and, before he had\nmade up his mind about it, he had lost an opportunity. The stranger,\nwhose presence of mind was disturbed by no scruples or timidity, stepped\nquickly forward, and lifted the latch of the heavy wooden gate, and\nswung it back, lifting his hat quite off, and remaining uncovered till\nFranceline had passed in. It was very vexatious to Mr. Charlton to have\nmissed the chance of the little courtesy, and to feel that his companion\nhad the largest share in the bow that included them both as she walked\nrapidly on. Franceline\u2019s curiosity, meanwhile, was excited. Who could\nthis strange gentleman be, who looked so like a Frenchman, and bowed like\none? If he was a guest of Mr. Charlton\u2019s, she would never know, most\nlikely; but if he was staying at the Court, she would soon hear all about\nhim. She wondered which way they were going. The gate had clicked, so\nthey were sure to have gone on. Franceline scarcely stopped to consider\nthis, but, obeying the impulse of the moment, turned round and looked.\nShe did so, and saw the stranger, with his hand still upon the gate,\nlooking after her.\n\nTO BE CONTINUED.\n\n\nTHE FUTURE OF THE RUSSIAN CHURCH.\n\nBY THE REV. C\u00c6SARIUS TONDINI, BARNABITE.\n\nCONCLUDED.\n\nIV.\n\nIt is time that our notice of this subject drew towards its close. The\nreturn of the Russian Church to Catholic unity is the dearest wish of\nour heart. A brother in religion (in which we love each other as perhaps\nnowhere else in the world, because we love each other for eternity) drew\nus, during the few months we spent together in Italy, to share in his\nlongings and aspirations for the religious future of Russia, his native\ncountry. Before quitting Italy Father Schouvaloff went to Rome, and\npresented himself before the Pope. The Holy Father, Pius IX., engaged him\nto make a daily offering of his life to God to obtain the return of his\ncountry to the unity of the Catholic Church. Father Schouvaloff joyfully\nobeyed, and God, on his part, accepted the offering. Being sent to Paris\ntowards the end of the year 1857, Father Schouvaloff died there on the 2d\nof April, 1859.\n\nUpon his tomb we promised to continue, in so far as it would be granted\nto us under religious obedience, our feeble co-operation in his work; and\nour writings are in part the fulfilment of this promise.\n\nFather Schouvaloff\u2019s confidence in the return of Russia to Catholic unity\nwas very great; we have fully shared in this confidence, and everything\nthat, since his death, has taken place in Russia, has but served to\naugment it. This may appear strange, but perhaps more than one among our\nreaders will share it with us when we have said in what manner we look\nforward to this happy event.\n\nA return of the Russians _en masse_ to Catholic unity we scarcely\ncontemplate. This could not happen except under the hypothesis of\npolitical interests which appear to us inadmissible. And even should we,\nin this matter, be mistaken, and from political interests the Russian\npeople were to accept union with Rome, would a union thus brought\nabout be desirable? Unless we mistake, the words of Jesus Christ might\nbe applied to a faith thus created when he said, _Omnis plantatio quam\nnon plantavit Pater meus eradicabitur_--\u201cEvery plant which my Heavenly\nFather hath not planted shall be rooted up\u201d (S. Matt. xv. 13). Was it by\npromising the Jewish nation to deliver it from the Roman yoke that Jesus\nChrist taught his heavenly doctrine? Was it by promising independence,\nhonors, temporal advantages, that the apostles persuaded the pagans to\nbelieve in the Crucified? Again, is it by pointing to a perspective\nof material advantages that any Catholic priest, however moderately\ncognizant of his own duty and the good of souls, seeks to induce any one\nto become a Catholic? If to those who aspire to follow Jesus Christ was\nalways held the same language as that which he himself used to them,\nthere might, perhaps, be fewer conversions, but they would be true\nconversions, and each one would lead on others, as true as themselves.\nNo; a faith created by political interests would never be a real and\nsolid faith, and other political interests would cause it to be cast\naside as easily as it had been accepted; it is the tree which the Father\nhas not planted, and which will be rooted up. Besides, history proves it.\nMore than once have the Greeks momentarily reunited themselves to the\nCatholic Church; their defection has been explained by the _fides Gr\u00e6ca_,\nand that is all. But let us be just; Greek faith is pretty much the\nfaith of every nation. If we take into account the circumstances under\nwhich these reunions were accomplished, the motives which led the Greek\nbishops, whether to Lyons or to Florence, and the small care they took\nto cause that that which had agreed happily with their presence in the\ncouncil--the discussion of the contested points--should remain always the\nprincipal end, we shall perceive that the duration of the reunion would\nhave been a prodigy.\n\nIn not effecting this prodigy our Lord has perhaps willed to hinder men\nfrom finding in history a denial given to his words: _Omnis plantatio\nquam non plantavit Pater meus eradicabitur_--\u201cEvery plant which my\nHeavenly Father hath not planted shall be rooted up.\u201d\n\nNeither have we by any means an unlimited confidence in the action which\nmight be exercised by the emperors of Russia on the bishops and clergy\nof their church. While retaining the hope that the czars may understand\nthat it is to their interest to dispossess themselves, in great part at\nleast, of the religious power, and not even despairing of their favoring\nthe reunion of the Russian bishops with Rome, our confidence is not based\nupon their actions. It is difficult for us to believe that they could\nbe moved by other than political interests; that which we have said,\ntherefore, respecting a return _en masse_ of the Russian people, would\nconsequently here again find its application. Besides, if formerly the\nword of a czar was that of Russia, and his will the will also of his\nsubjects, it is no longer the same in the present day. When Peter I.\naccepted the scheme of reunion proposed by the doctors of the Sorbonne of\nParis, and consented to have it examined by his bishops (1717); when Paul\nI. took into consideration the plan suggested by Father Gruber (1800),\none might truly have said, Russia promises fair to become Catholic. At\nthis present time, however, an emperor of Russia might probably speak\nand promise for himself alone. We must add that at a period when changes\nin popular opinion and sympathies are as frequent as they are sudden, the\nsimple fact that the reunion with Rome had been promoted and favored by a\nczar might, in certain circumstances, furnish an additional pretext for\ndisavowing it afterwards.\n\nBut what is it, then, which induces us to hope, which sustains our\nconfidence, and which emboldens us to manifest it openly, though we\nshould seem to be following an utopian idea?\n\nIn the first place, we have hope in a change which, grace aiding it, the\nevents recently accomplished, and those which are continuing to take\nplace in Europe, will work on the minds of men. Events have their logic,\nand it imposes itself also upon the nations. The alternative indicated\nabove, and which will force minds to recognize the divinity of the\nCatholic Church, will become an evident fact, and God will do the rest.\n\nWe hope because Alexander II. has emancipated the peasantry, and we may\nbe allowed to see in the emancipation of the peasantry the prelude to the\nemancipation of the Russian Church. We shall return to this point.\n\nWe hope because the spirit of apostolate, by faith and charity, is now\nmore powerful than ever in the Catholic Church. As soon as the doors\nof Russia shall be open to her, and she can there freely exercise her\naction, her priests, her missionaries, her religious orders, her Sisters\nof Charity, her Little Sisters of the Poor, will present themselves of\ntheir own accord. God will do the rest.\n\nAgain, we hope because of the \u201cAssociations of Prayer,\u201d which have\nalready preceded and powerfully prepared the way for the return of Russia\nto the Catholic faith. The favor demanded is a great one, and therefore\nwe have chosen all that Christian piety, the church, God himself, offers\nus as having most power to prevail with him. Rather than depend alone on\ndisseminating leaflets of prayers, or engaging pious souls to remember\nRussia, thus giving to these associations a form which, in one way or\nanother, might injure their character of universality, we have endeavored\nto obtain the celebration of the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass. For this\nintention we have asked for Masses.[12] In the Holy Mass it is Jesus\nChrist himself who prays, and he is always heard.\n\nA plenary indulgence, attached to these Masses, invites the faithful to\nunite their prayers with those of the divine Intercessor. If the faithful\nfail, still Jesus pleads; for faith this is enough.\n\nLastly, we hope because eighteen centuries which have passed away\nsince Jesus Christ quitted the earth in human form have not been able\nto diminish in anything the creative power of his words. Jesus Christ\npromised to faith--and to faith possessed in the measure of a grain of\nmustard-seed--that it should move mountains (S. Matt. xvii. 19; S. Luke\nxvii. 6). Thus it was with happiness, at the last General Congress at\nMechlin, in 1867, we made a public act of faith in proclaiming our\nunlimited confidence in prayer, and, we added, \u201cin prayer presented to\nGod by Mary.\u201d[13] This public act of faith we here repeat.\n\nAt the same Congress of Mechlin we also spoke of our confidence in the\nspecial benediction which His Holiness Pius IX. had deigned to grant to\nus, and which is thus expressed: _Benedicat te Deus et dirigat cor et\nintelligentiam tuam_.\n\nThis confidence has assuredly not diminished since that time. Far from\nthis, if there is one teaching which imposes itself with an irresistible\nforce upon our mind, it is this: that in the Vicar of Jesus Christ, no\nless than in Jesus Christ himself, is fulfilled the declaration of our\ndivine Saviour, \u201cHe that gathereth not with me, scattereth\u201d (S. Luke xi.\n23).\n\nAnd further, Jesus Christ spoke thus to his disciples: _When you shall\nhave done all the things that are commanded you, say: We are unprofitable\nservants: we have done that which we ought to do_ (S. Luke xvii. 10).\nAfter this it is not even humility, but simple Christian logic, to attach\na high value to the works of the apostolate, to the benediction of the\npope; lest we should be not only unprofitable servants--which is always\nthe case--but dangerous servants.\n\nIt is that, in the first place, the benediction of the pope, while it\nencourages zeal, requires that we should correct whatever there may be\nof human or of reprehensible in the manner in which our zeal expresses\nitself and the means which it employs. The Vicar of Jesus Christ cannot\nand does not bless anything but what is pleasing to Jesus Christ and\nconformable to his will. That which is not conformable to these, far from\nparticipating in this benediction, dishonors and in some sort vilifies\nit. The benediction of the pope imposes an obligation.\n\nIt is, in the second place, that the mission of the priest is not to\npreach according to his own ideas; to exercise the ministry according\nto his own ideas; to aid the church according to his own ideas; but to\npreach, to exercise the ministry, to aid the church, after the manner\nindicated by God, who is the Master of the church, who knows her needs\nbetter than we do, and who has no need of us. And who will inform us\nof his will, if not his legitimate representatives, the bishops, and,\nabove them, the Vicar of Jesus Christ, the pope? All those who, however\nslightly, have studied the mysteries of the human heart, the relations\nexisting between faith and reason, and the powerlessness of all human\nmeans to produce one single act of faith, will, we are certain, partake\nin the sentiment which we have just expressed. Hence it is that we are\nhappy here to proclaim again our confidence in the benediction of Pius IX.\n\nThus, therefore, the logic of events, the spirit of the apostolate, the\nemancipation of the serfs, the efficaciousness of prayer, the power of\nfaith, the benediction of Pius IX.--these are the things which support\nour confidence; these are our motives for hope.\n\nAre we the plaything of an illusion, and is our confidence the effect of\nreligious excitement? Not in any wise; for we are now about to indicate\nwhere lies the principal obstacle in the way of reunion, and what is the\nobjection which will have the most effect upon the minds of men. It is in\nthe fear that the popes may overstep the limits of their authority; that\nthe religious power may absorb that of the state; and that Russia would\nonly become Catholic to the detriment of the national spirit.\n\nIn fact, we cannot deny the teaching of history, which shows us, almost\nalways and everywhere, conflicts between the civil and religious power.\nMore than in the conduct of the popes, the true cause of these will\nbe found, we believe, in the fact that C\u00e6sarism--that is to say, the\ntendency of sovereigns to obtain an empire entire and absolute over\ntheir subjects--is to be found in human nature itself. To avoid the\npossibility of conflicts between Rome and the various governments, it\nwould be necessary to change human nature. Perhaps it may be allowable\nto say that, in the difficulty which stands in the way, practically\nto define in an absolute manner the limits of the two powers, we must\nrecognize a providential disposition which has permitted this in order to\nopen a wider field for the exercise of virtue. That which was said by S.\nAugustine, _Homines sumus, fragiles, infirmi, lutea vasa portantes; sed\nsi angustiantur vasa carnis, dilatentur spatia charitatis_, may find here\nits application, at least, if from the supreme representatives of the\ntwo powers, the pope and the sovereign, we descend to those who exercise\nthese powers in their name in less elevated spheres and in the ordinary\ndetails of life. These smaller and subordinate authorities, charged to\nrepresent power, and carrying into their representation of power their\npersonal character, their private views, at times their prejudices\nand their interests, may be well compared to those vases of which S.\nAugustine speaks--vases of capacity and of varied form, and which must be\nmade to occupy a certain fixed space. Let only charity intervene, round\nthe angles, shape the lines, adapt the prominences to the sinuosities,\ndetermine the length, shorten where needful, obtain even the sacrifice of\nsome superfluous ornaments, these vases will then all find their place;\nspace is multiplied by miracle; that which has effected it is the spirit\nof Jesus Christ, which is charity.\n\nThis solution of the difficulty by charity is not, however, the only one\nwhich we propose. Without speaking of the concordats which prove that\nan amicable understanding may be entered into with Rome, and also not\nto mention those great sovereigns of various countries whose history\nproves that to live in peace with the church is by no means hurtful to\nthe prosperity of the state, the Russians will allow us also to reckon in\nsome degree upon the intellectual progress to which, no less than other\nnations, they attach a great value. Now, to advance intellectually is to\nperceive that which was previously hidden from the mind, and to discern\nclearly that which was only half guessed at before. Why, then, not hope\nthat the Russians will now see more clearly than in the time when Peter\nI. treated them so contemptuously what must be expected or feared from\nthe religious and civil power; that is to say, that if conflicts appear\ninevitable, the alternative, for them as well as for other peoples, is\nthis: conflicts with Rome, or slavery to their sovereigns. Let them make\ntheir choice.\n\nMuch is said about the providential mission of Russia in Asia. Why not\nalso in Europe? Of all the nations of Europe, the Russian people is that\nwhich more than all others knows by experience what serfdom really is,\nunder the empire of a sovereign ruling at the same time bodies and souls.\nTheir submission has been called \u201cthe heroism of slavery.\u201d \u201cWhoever has\nseen Russia,\u201d it has also been said, \u201cwill find himself happy to live\nanywhere else.\u201d Well! at the risk of provoking a smile of incredulity, we\nexpress the hope that there will be found amongst the Russians sufficient\nintelligence to comprehend that God is offering to them the most sublime\nmission with which he can honor a nation. A people only now freed from\nreligious slavery, and consecrating the first exercise of its liberty to\nhinder other nations from falling into the same slavery, will be worthy\nof true admiration, so much would there be in this conduct of nobleness,\nof self-denial, and of disinterestedness! Now, all this is what Russia\ncan do. But in order to do it, she must break with the past; she must\ndisavow her acts; she must acknowledge with humility her faults, which\nshe must hasten to repair. If those who hold in their hands the destinies\nof Russia were not czars, that would offer no difficulty. The czars\nare not the Russian people. If they have reparation to make, they have\nnothing to disavow. In the situation in which Russia has been up to the\npresent time the faults of the czars have been personally their own; no\nresponsibility could rest upon the Russian people.\n\nBut Russia is still governed by the czars. Will they be asked to break\nwith their past? Will it be expected that they will disavow the acts of\ntheir dynasty; that they will acknowledge their faults; that they will\nrepair them? It is to require of them a more than heroic virtue. Are they\ncapable of it? Why not?\n\nThe czar who at this time governs Russia has emancipated the Russian\npeasants, he has abolished the servitude of the glebe. He has had to\nbreak with his past, disavow the acts of his ancestors, acknowledge their\nfaults, and repair them. He has had to struggle against immense interior\ndifficulties, against the interests of the lords, against routine,\nagainst the spirit of domination, against cupidity. In spite of all this,\nAlexander II. is emancipator of the serfs--a title far more glorious than\nthose given by flattery to Peter I.\n\nWhen the servitude of the peasantry was still in existence in Russia,\nlords were not wanting who held to their serfs the following kind of\nlanguage: \u201cHow happy you are! You are delivered from all care for your\nown existence or for that of your families! When you have finished the\nwork which you owe to me, you can do whatever you think best. You enjoy\nin peace the fruits of the earth, the pleasures of the country, the free\nair of the fields. I consider you as my children. I take care of you.\nYour interests are mine. Your family joys are mine, and mine also are\nyour pains. How happy you are!\u201d In fact, if we are to believe certain\nauthorities, nothing was wanting to the happiness of the Russian peasant,\nserf of the glebe; it was a perpetual idyl. In spite of that, all Europe\npitied him. And why? Because the peasant could not go whither he would,\nand because, if he were not sensible of the privation of this liberty, it\nwas because he had been rendered incapable of appreciating it.\n\nNow, there are peoples who are chained to the glebe, not by the body, but\nby the soul.\n\nThey have each their lord, and, provided that they accomplish the\nwork which their lord imposes upon them, they are, for the rest,\nfree to employ their time as they please. Care is taken of them, of\ntheir families, of their material interests, and especially they are\nunceasingly reminded that they are free, and that their lord has nothing\nmore at heart than their liberty. They are indeed free to do many things;\nbut one liberty is wanting to them--their body may go whither they desire\nit, but their soul is chained to the glebe. Study being granted to them,\nand the knowledge of that which is passing in the world being no longer\nrefused to them, they discover on the earth a church which calls herself\ndivine, and charged to conduct all souls to heaven. They study her; they\nare not alarmed at objections; they know how to make allowance for\nhuman weakness in her children, and even in her ministers. They find in\nthis weakness itself one argument more in favor of the divinity of this\nchurch. They admire the courage, full of gentleness, of these bishops. It\nis truth, it is God, who speaks by her. These souls desire God, and they\nare therefore drawn towards her, because they lift themselves up to God.\nAt this moment a heavy weight holds them back; wishing to soar towards\nheaven, they find themselves chained to the glebe.\n\nYes, for the souls who desire God the false interests of the state\nare but a glebe--a glebe the laws to which the conscience refuses\nto submit--a glebe the will of the sovereign, and a glebe also the\ntraditions of his dynasty.\n\nThese people, let others call them free, and, on the faith of their\nlords, let them also call themselves free; they are none the less people\nin serfdom--souls chained to the glebe.\n\nWhat glory for Alexander II., if, after having delivered bodies from the\nservitude of the glebe, he would also deliver souls! What glory, if,\nafter having delivered his own subjects from it, he would labor also to\nset others free!\n\n\nSTRAY LEAVES FROM A PASSING LIFE.\n\nCHAPTER I.\n\nMR. CULPEPPER MAKES A PROPOSAL--A RENCOUNTER IN A CHURCHYARD.\n\nIt was one of those golden November mornings that throw a mystic\nglamour over New York. A warm haze draped the great city, softening\nits deformities, blending its beauties. In its magic light the very\nstreet-cars took on a romantic air, as they sped along loaded with\ntheir living freight. The bales of goods on the sidewalk, huddled\ntogether in careless profusion, were no longer the danger which they\nare generally supposed to be by elderly gentlemen who have due regard\nfor life and limb, but gracious droppings rather from Pandora\u2019s box,\nraining down fresh and bright from the hands of the genial goddess. What\nin the garish sun were vulgar business houses filled with sober goods\nand peopled with staring and sleek-combed clerks, assumed under this\ngorgeous drapery the aspect of mystic temples of commerce, where silent\nand solemn-eyed priests stood patiently all the day long to call in\nthe passers-by to worship. The lofty policeman, looming like a statue\nat the corner, was not the ferocious, peanut-chewing being that he is\ncommonly supposed to be, but a beneficent guardian of the great temple\nof peace. The busy crowds of brisk business men that hurried along,\nuntouched as yet by the toil and the soil of the day, were fresh-faced\nand clear-eyed, chatty and cheerful. Thompson stepped out as cheerily\nas though he were just beginning that strange task, on which so many\nambitious mortals have gone down, of performing his thousand miles in\na thousand hours; for Thompson, happy man! knew not as yet what was so\ncalmly awaiting him on his desk--that heavy bill that he was bound to\nmeet, but which, strange to say, had quite slipped his memory. And there\nis Johnson walking arm-in-arm with Jones, Johnson\u2019s face wreathed in\nsunny smiles the while. Johnson\u2019s heart is gay and his step light, and\nhe feels the happy influence of the morning. Jones is sadly in want of a\nconfidential clerk, and his friend is dilating on the treasure that he\nhimself possesses--that very clerk who, he learns on reaching his office,\nabsconded last night with a fearful amount of Johnson\u2019s property. Nor,\non the other hand, does that eager-faced youngster, the shining seams of\nwhose garments tell of more years than his seamless face and brow, know\nthat at last the gracious answer that he has so longed for awaits his\narrival, and that the bright opening at length lies before him that is to\nlead him on to fortune, if not to fame, more than the five hundred and\nforty-six rival applicants know that their addresses have been rejected.\nAs yet the day is marked with neither white bean nor black, and so let\nus hope, with this mighty stream pouring on and on and on down the great\nthoroughfares of the city, that the white beans may outnumber the black\nwhen the day is done, and that what is lost here may be gained there;\nfor we are of them, brethren of theirs, and joyous hopes of this kind\ncost little, while, at least, they harden not the heart. And so the whole\ncity, with its hopes and fears, its life and its death, moved out under\nthe November haze that morning, and with it, as the central figure in the\nvast panorama, he whose stray leaves, it is hoped, may prove at least of\npassing interest to the many of whom he is one.\n\nMy special point of attraction that day was the office of _The Packet_,\n\u201ca monthly journal of polite literature,\u201d to quote the prospectus, which\nwas supported by \u201cthe ablest pens of both hemispheres,\u201d as the same\nprospectus modestly admitted. As at this time I was a pretty constant\ncontributor to _The Packet_, I suppose that, according to the prospectus,\nI was fully entitled to take my stand among \u201cthe ablest pens of both\nhemispheres,\u201d whether I chose to insist on my literary rank or not. And\nas I contributed occasionally to other journals which were respectively,\naccording to their several prospectuses, \u201cthe leading weekly,\u201d \u201cthe\ngreatest daily,\u201d \u201cthe giant monthly,\u201d \u201cthe only quarterly,\u201d \u201cthe great\nart journal,\u201d etc., there could not possibly be any doubt as to my\nliterary position. For all that, I confess I was still among the callow\nbrood, and fear that, if any person had referred to me in public as \u201ca\nliterary man,\u201d the literary man would have blushed very violently, and\nfelt as small as a titmouse. Still, I had that delicious feeling of the\ndawning of hope and the glorious uncertainty of a great ambition that\nalways attend and encourage the first steps of a new career, whatever\nbe its character. It was natural enough, then, that I should step out\nlustily among my fellows, my head high in air, and my heart higher\nstill, drinking in the inspiration of the morning, piercing the golden\nmist with the eye of hope, feeling a young life throbbing eagerly within\nme, feeling a mysterious brotherhood with all men, gliding as through a\nfairy city in a gilded dream.\n\nAs I had several places to call at, it was late in the afternoon when I\narrived at _The Packet_ office to draw my little account. On entering I\nfound an unusual commotion; something had evidently gone very wrong. Mr.\nCulpepper, the experienced editor of the journal of polite literature,\nwas, to judge by the tones of his voice, in a towering rage. I fancied\nthat I caught expressions, too, which were not exactly in accordance\nwith polite literature. When Mr. Culpepper\u2019s temper did happen to fail,\nit was an event to be remembered, particularly as that event took\nplace, on an average, some two or three times a week. Everything and\neverybody in the office was in a turmoil; for Mr. Culpepper\u2019s temper had\nan infectious quality that affected all its immediate surroundings. An\nexperienced eye could tell by the position of the dictionary, the state\nof the floor, the standing of the waste-basket, the precise turn of the\neditor\u2019s easy-chair, how the wind blew to Mr. Culpepper. On this mild\nNovember afternoon it was clear that a terrific gale had sprung up from\nsome unexpected quarter. It had ruffled what was left of Mr. Culpepper\u2019s\nhair, it blew his cravat awry, it had disarranged his highly intellectual\nwhiskers, it spared not even his venerable coat-tails. His private office\nshowed the effects of a raging tornado. Pigeon-holes had been ransacked;\ndrawers had been wrenched open and rifled of their contents; Webster and\nWorcester lay cheek-by-jowl in the waste-basket; the easy-chair had a\ndangerous crick in the back; Mr. Culpepper himself was plunged ankle-deep\nin manuscripts that strewed the floor in wild confusion; while Mr.\nCulpepper\u2019s hands were thrust in his cavernous pockets, as he stood there\non my entrance, a very monument of editorial despair.\n\nMr. Culpepper, like most men, was preferable when good-tempered. Indeed,\nthough his opinions at times, particularly on the merits or demerits of\nmy own compositions, were apt to be more emphatic than polished, Mr.\nCulpepper, when good-tempered, was by no means an unpleasant companion.\nIn his stormy periods I always coasted as clear of him as I could; but it\nwas now too late to sheer off. So, making the best of a bad bargain, I\nadvanced boldly to meet the enemy, when to my surprise he greeted me with\nthe exclamation,\n\n\u201cOh! you are just the man I wanted. Can you tell a story--a good,\nlively Christmas story, with a spice of fun, a dash of love, a slice of\nplum-pudding, a sprinkling of holly and ivy, with a bunch of mistletoe\nthrown in? And, by the bye, if you have genius enough, a good ghost. Yes,\na good, old-fashioned ghost would be capital. They are dying out now,\nmore\u2019s the pity. Yes, I must have a ghost and a country churchyard, with\na bowl of punch, if you want it. There are your materials. Now, I want\nthem fixed up into a first-class Christmas story, to fill exactly eight\npages, by four o\u2019clock to-morrow afternoon at the latest. Must have it to\nfit this illustration. Clepston was to have done it, but he has failed me\nat the last hour. Just like him--he must go and get married just when\nI want my story. He did it on purpose, because I refused to advance his\npay--married out of revenge, just to spite me. Well, what do you say?\u201d\n\nI said nothing; for Mr. Culpepper\u2019s rapidity and the novelty of his\nproposal fairly took my breath away. I had never yet attempted fiction,\nbut there was a certain raciness in Mr. Culpepper\u2019s manner of putting it\nthat urged me to seize my present opportunity. A good ghost-story within\njust twenty-four hours! A pleasant winter tale that should be read to\nhappy families by happy firesides; by boys at school, their hair standing\non end with wild excitement, and their laughter ringing out as only boys\u2019\nlaughter does; by sweet-faced girls--by everybody, in fact, with a vast\namount of pleasure and not a twinge of pain. Thousands whom I should\nnever know would say, \u201cWhat a dear fellow this story-teller is!\u201d \u201cWhat a\npleasant way he has of putting things!\u201d \u201cWhat--\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, what do you say?\u201d broke in Mr. Culpepper rudely; and I remembered\nthat the story which was to win me such golden opinions from all sorts of\npeople was yet to be written.\n\n\u201cI hardly know. Four o\u2019clock to-morrow afternoon? The time is so very\nshort. Could you not extend it?\u201d\n\n\u201cNot a moment. Printers waiting now. If I can\u2019t have yours by that time,\nI must use something else; and I have not a thing to suit. Just look\nhere,\u201d he said pointing to the floor, and glancing ruefully around; \u201cI\nhave spent the day wading through all these things, and there is nothing\namong the pile. A mass of rubbish, all of it!\u201d\n\nMy resolution was made; I started up.\n\n\u201cMr. Culpepper, I will try. I will stay up all night; and if there be a\nghost yet unlaid, a pudding yet unmade, a piece of holly yet ungathered,\nor a bunch of mistletoe that has not yet done duty, you shall have them\nall by four o\u2019clock to-morrow afternoon.\u201d\n\n\u201cNow, I rely on you, mind. Four o\u2019clock sharp. Let it be brisk and\nfrosty, bright as the holly-berries, and soothing as a glass of punch!\nWe owe you a little account, I believe. Here it is, and now good-by till\nto-morrow afternoon.\u201d\n\nWho has not experienced that half-fearful and yet wholly pleasant feeling\nof setting foot for the first time in a new and strange land? It was\nwith some such feeling that my heart fluttered as I left the office of\n_The Packet_ that afternoon. Yet what was I to achieve within the next\nfour-and-twenty hours? An eight-page Christmas story of the approved\npattern, with the conventional sauces and seasonings--nothing more. The\nthing had been done a thousand times before, and would be done a thousand\ntimes again, as often as Christmases came round, and thought nothing\nof. Why should I be so fluttered at the task? Was this to be the great\nbeginning at last of my new career? Was this trumpery eight-page story\nto be the true keynote to what was to make music of all the rest of my\nlife? Nonsense! I said to myself; and yet why nonsense? Did not all great\nenterprises spring from small and insignificant beginnings? Were not all\ngreat men at some time or another babies in arms, rocked in cradles, fed\non soothing syrups, and carried about in long clothes? Did not a falling\napple lead Newton on to the great discovery of gravitation? Was it not\na simmering kettle that opened Watt\u2019s eyes to steam, and introduced the\nrailway and the packet? Did not a handful of sand reveal the mines of\nCalifornia? Must not Euclid have started with a right reading of axioms\nas old as the world? Who shall fix the starting-point of genius? And why\nshould not my first fictitious Christmas pudding contain the germ of\nwonders that were to be?\n\nI can feel the astute and experienced reader who has been gracious enough\nto accompany me thus far already falter at the very outset of the short\nexcursion we purposed taking together. I can feel the pages close over\nme like a tomb, while a weary yawn sings my death-dirge. But allow me,\nmy dear sir, or my dear madam, or my much-esteemed young lady, to stay\nyour hands just one moment, until I explain matters a little, until I\nintroduce myself properly; and I promise to be very candid in all I have\nto say. You see--indeed, you will have seen already--that the gentleman\nwho has just left Mr. Culpepper\u2019s presence was at this period of his\nlife very young indeed, and proportionately ambitious. These two facts\nwill explain the fluttering of his heart at the cold-blooded proposal\nof spending an entire night at his writing-desk, delving his brain for\nthe materials of a silly little story, while you, dear sir, have drawn\nover your ears, and over that head that has been rubbed into reverent\nsmoothness by the gentle hand of time, the sleep-compelling night-cap;\nand while you, dear madam, while you have--done nothing of the kind. I\nplead guilty, then, at this time, to the twofold and terrible charge of\noutrageous youth and still more outrageous ambition. But I have long\nsince contrived to overcome the disgrace of excessive youth; while, as\nregards ambition, what once happened to a literary friend of mine has\nnever happened to me: that morning I have been waiting for so long,\nso long, when I was to wake up and find myself famous, has not yet\narrived--looks even as though it never meant to dawn. Literature was to\nme an unknown sea, upon which I had not fairly embarked. I had paddled a\nlittle in a little cockleshell of my own in sunny weather around friendly\ncoasts, but as yet had not ventured to launch out into the great deep.\nThe storm and the darkness and the night, the glory and the dread of the\ntempest, the awful conflicts of the elements, were as yet unknown to and\nunbraved by me. Indeed, as I promised to be candid, I may as well whisper\nin your ear that the main efforts of my pen at this precise period of\nmy life were devoted to meeting with a calm front and easy conscience\nthe weekly eye of Mrs. Jinks. Mrs. Jinks was my boarding-house keeper, a\nremarkable woman in her way, and one for whom I entertained an unbounded\nrespect; but she was scarcely a Mme. de Sta\u00ebl, unless in looks, still\nless a Mme. de S\u00e9vign\u00e9. Mme. Jinks\u2019 encouragement to aspiring genius was\nsingularly small when aspiring genius could not pay its weekly board--a\ncontingency that has been known to occur. Mrs. Jinks never fell into the\nfatal mistake of tempting the man to eat unless the man was prepared\nto pay. But even Mrs. Jinks could not crush out all ambition, so that\nI hugged Mr. Culpepper\u2019s proposal, as I went home that evening, with a\nfervor and enthusiasm that I had never before experienced; for it seemed\nto open up to me a new vista of bright and beautiful imaginings.\n\nFor all that, I could not strike the clew. It seems a very easy thing,\ndoes it not, to concoct a passable enough Christmas story out of the\nample materials with which Mr. Culpepper had so lavishly supplied me?\nJust try; sit down and write a good, short, brisk Christmas story, out of\nall the time-honored materials, and judge for yourself what an easy task\nit is, O sapient critic! a line from whose practised pen stabs to death\na year of hopes, and projects, and labor. Strange to say, my immediate\nproject dissolved and faded out of my mind, as I plodded homewards along\nthe great thoroughfare I had trodden so serenely in the morning. The\nlittle Christmas story gave place to something new, something larger,\nsomething vague, indefinable, and mighty. A great realm of fiction\nunfolded itself before me--a realm all my own, a fairy island in a summer\nsea, peopled with Calibans and dainty Ariels, Mirandas and Ferdinands,\nand a thousand unseen creatures, waiting only for the wave of my magic\nwand to be summoned into the beauty of life, to bring sweet songs down\nfrom the clouds of heaven, and whisperings of spirits far away that the\nearth had never yet heard. A mist sprang up around me as I walked, and\nthrough it peered a thousand eyes, and from it came and went a thousand\nshapeless forms, whose outlines I could half discern, but hold not. I\ncould not bid them stay until I grasped them. Something was wanting, a\ntouch only, a magic word, but I could not find it. A charm was on me,\nand more potent than I. It was there, working, working, working, but I\ncould not master it. I walked along in a dream. Men in throngs passed\nme by in what seemed a strange and awful silence. If they spoke, never a\nword heard I. Carriages and vehicles of every description I felt rolling,\nrolling past; but their wheels were strangely muffled, for never a sound\nfell on my ear. The fair, bright city of the morning was filled now with\nsilent shadows, moving like ghosts in a troubled dream. Lights sprang\nup out of the mist as I passed along, but they seemed to shine upon me\nalone. Intensely conscious of my own existence, I had only a numb feeling\nof other life around me. At last I found myself at Mrs. Jinks\u2019 door. I\ntook a letter from her hand, and seated at length in my own room, with\nfamiliar objects around me, the shadows seemed to lift, and I was brought\nback to the subject of my proposed night\u2019s work.\n\nStill, I could not collect my thoughts sufficiently to bring them to\nbear, in a practical way, on the central idea around which my fiction\nwas to take body and shape. The sudden strain on my imagination had been\ntoo severe; a kind of numbness pervaded my whole being, and the moments,\nevery one of which was precious as a grain of gold, were slipping idly\naway. The feeling that all the power to achieve what you desire lies\nthere torpid within you, but too sullen to be either coaxed or bullied\ninto action, laughing sluggishly at the most violent effort of the will\nto move it, is, perhaps, one of the most exasperating that a man can\nexperience. It is like one in a nightmare, who sees impending over him a\nnameless terror that it only needs a wag of a little tongue to divert,\nand yet the little tongue cleaves with such monstrous persistency to\nthe roof of the parched mouth that not all the leverage of Archimedes\nhimself could move it from its place. That fine power of man\u2019s intellect,\nthat clear perception and keen precision which can search the memory, and\nat a glance find the clew that it is seeking; that can throw out those\nfar-reaching fibres over the garden of knowledge, gathering in from all\nsides the necessary stores, was as far away from me as from a madman\u2019s\ndream. I could fasten upon nothing; my brain was in disorder, while the\nmoments were lengthening into hours, and the hours slipping silently away.\n\nIn despair I tried a cigar--a favorite refuge of mine in difficulties;\nand soon light clouds, pervaded with a subtle aroma, were added to those\nthinner clouds of undefined and indefinable images that floated around\nme, volatile, shadowy, intangible; mysterious, nebulous. Mr. Culpepper\u2019s\n\u201cmaterials\u201d had quite evaporated, and I began to think dreamily of old\ndays, of anything, everything, save what was to the point. I remember how\npoor old Wetherhead, of all people in the world--\u201cLeatherhead\u201d we used\nfacetiously to style him at college--came up before me, and I laughed\nover the fun we had with him. What a plodder he was! When preparing\nfor his degree, he took ferociously to wet towels. He had the firmest\nfaith in wet towels. He had tried them for the matriculation, and found\nthem \u201ccapital,\u201d he assured us. \u201cTry a towel, Leathers,\u201d we would say to\nhim whenever we saw him in difficulties. Poor fellow! He was naturally\ndull and heavy, dense and persistent as a clod. It would take digging\nand hoeing and trenching to plant anything in that too solid brain; and\nyet he was the most hopeful fellow alive. He was possessed with the\nvery passion of study, without a streak of brightness or imagination\nto soften and loosen the hopeless mass of clay whereof his mind seemed\ncomposed; and so he depended on wet towels to moisten it. He almost wore\nhis head out while preparing for the matriculation examen. But by slow\nand constant effort he succeeded in forcing a sufficient quantity of\nknowledge into his pores, and retaining it there, to enable him to pass\nthe very best-deserved first class that ever was won. The passage of\nthe Alps to a Hannibal or a Napoleon was a puny feat compared with the\npassing of an examination by a Wetherhead. We took him on our shoulders,\nand bore him aloft in triumph, a banner-bearer, with a towel for banner,\nmarching at the head of the procession. \u201cYou may laugh, but it was the\ntowels pulled me through, old fellow,\u201d he said to me, smiling, his great\nface expanding with delight. \u201cStay there, and don\u2019t go any farther,\nLeathers,\u201d I advised, when he proclaimed his intention of going up for\nthe degrees. \u201cNonsense!\u201d said he, and, in spite of everybody\u2019s warnings,\nWetherhead \u201cwent in\u201d for the B.A. It was a sight to see him in the\nagonies of study; his eyes almost starting out of his head as the day\nwore on, and around that head, arranged in turban fashion, an enormous\ntowel reeking with moisture. \u201cHow many towels to-day, Leathers?\u201d \u201cHow\u2019s\nthe reservoir, Leatherhead?\u201d those impudent youngsters would cry out.\nAs time went on and the examination drew near the whole college became\ninterested in Wetherhead and his prospects of success. Bets were made\non him, and bets were made on his towels. The wit of our class wrote an\nessay--which, it was whispered aloud, had reached the professors\u2019 room,\nand been read aloud there to their intense amusement--on \u201cTowels _vs._\nDegrees; or, The probabilities of success, measured by the quantity of\nwater on the brain.\u201d He bore it all good-humoredly, even the threat to\ncrown him with towels instead of laurel if he passed and went up for\nhis degree. A dark whisper reached me, away in the country at the time,\nthat he had failed, that the failure had touched his brain, and that he\nwas cut down half-strangled one morning from his own door-key, to which\nhe had suspended himself by means of a wet towel; which, instead of its\nusual position around his brow, had fastened itself around his throat. Of\ncourse that was a malicious libel; for I met the poor fellow soon after,\nlooking the ghost of himself. \u201cHow was it, Wetherhead?\u201d I asked. \u201cI don\u2019t\nknow, old fellow,\u201d he responded mournfully. \u201cI got through splendidly the\nfirst few days; but after that things began to get muddled and mixed up\nsomehow, so that I could hardly tell one from another. It was all there,\nbut something had got out of order. I felt that it was all there, but\nthere was too much to hold together. The fact is, _I missed my towel_. A\ntowel or two would have set it all right again. The machine had got too\nhot, and wanted a little cooling off; but I couldn\u2019t march in there, you\nknow, with a big towel round my head; so I failed.\u201d\n\nThe clock striking twelve woke me from my dream of school-days. I had\njust sixteen hours and a half left to complete the story that was not yet\nbegun. Whew! I might as well engage to write a history of science within\nthe appointed time. It was useless. My cigar had gone out, and I gave up\nthe idea of writing a story at all. And yet surely it was so easy, and I\nhad promised Culpepper, and both he and _The Packet_ and the public were\nawaiting my decision. And this was to be the end of what I had deemed the\ndawn of my hope and the firstling of my true genius!\n\n\u201cRoger Herbert, you are an ass,\u201d spake a voice I knew well--a voice that\ncompelled my attention at the most unseasonable hours. \u201cExcuse me for\nmy plainness of speech, but you are emphatically an ass. Now, now, no\nbluster, no anger. If you and I cannot honestly avow the plain truth to\neach other, there is no hope for manhood. Mr. Culpepper and the public\nwaiting for you! Ho! ho! Ha! ha! It\u2019s a capital joke. Mr. Culpepper is\nat this moment in the peaceful enjoyment of his first slumbers; and the\npublic would not even know your name if it were told them. Upon my word,\nRoger, you are even a greater ass than I took you to be. Well, well,\nwe live and learn. For the last half-a-dozen hours or more where have\nyou been? Floating in the clouds; full of the elixir of life; dreaming\ngreat dreams, your spirit within you fanned with the movement of the\n_divinus afflatus_, eh? Is not that it? Nonsense, my dear lad. You have\nonly once again mounted those two-foot stilts, against which I am always\nwarning you, and which any little mountebank can manage better than you.\n_They_ may show some skill, but you only tumble. So come down at once,\nmy fine fellow, and tread on _terra firma_ again, where alone you are\nsafe. You a genius! Ho! ho! Ho! ho! ho! And all apropos of a Christmas\npudding. The genius of a Christmas pudding! It is too good. Your proper\nbusiness, when Mr. Culpepper made his proposal to you this afternoon, was\nto tell him honestly that the task he set you was one quite beyond your\nstrength--altogether out of your reach, in fact. But no; you must mount\nyour stilts, and, once on them, of course you are a head and shoulders\nabove honest folk. O Roger, Roger! why not remember your true stature?\nWhat is the use of a man of five foot four trying to palm himself off and\ngive himself the airs of one of six foot four? He is only laughed at for\nhis pains, as Mr. Culpepper will assuredly laugh at you to-morrow. Take\nmy advice, dear boy, acknowledge your fault, and then go to bed. You are\nno genius, Roger. In what, pray, are you better, in what are you so good,\nas fifty of your acquaintances, whom I could name right off for you, but\nwho never dream that they are geniuses? The _divinus afflatus_, forsooth!\nFor shame, for shame, little man! Stick to your last, my friend, and be\nthankful even that you have a last whereto to stick. Let Apelles alone,\nor let the other little cobblers carp at him, if they will. The world\nwill think more of his blunders than of all your handicraft put together,\nand your little cobbler criticisms into the bargain. And now, having said\nmy say, I wish you a very good-night, Roger, or good-morning rather.\u201d\n\nSo spake the voice of the _Daimon_ within me; a very bitter voice it\nhas often proved to me--as bitter, but as healthy, as a tonic. And\nat its whisper down tumbled all \u201cthe cloud-capt towers and gorgeous\npalaces\u201d that my imagination had so swiftly conjured up. It was somewhat\nhumiliating to confess, but, after all, Roger Herbert, Senior, as I\ncalled that inner voice, was right. I resolved to go to bed. Full of that\npractical purpose, I went to my desk to close it up for the night, and\nall dreams of a momentary ambition with it, when my eyes fell upon a\nletter bearing the address:\n\n    ROGER HERBERT, ESQ.,\n    Care of Mrs. Jinks,\n    ---- Street,\n    New York,\n    United States,\n    America.\n\nWhat a quantity of writing for so small an envelope! One needed no\ncurious peep within, nor scarcely a second glance at the neat-pointed\nhand, with the up-and-down strokes of equal thickness, to guess at the\nsex of the writer. I remembered now; it was the letter Mrs. Jinks gave me\nat the door, and, good heavens! it had been lying there disregarded all\nthese hours, while I was inflated with my absurd and bombastic thoughts.\nThe writing I knew well, for my hand had been the first to guide the\nwriter through the mazes and the mysteries of chirography. One sentence\nfrom the letter is sufficient to give here. \u201cDear, dear Roger: Papa is\nsick--is _dying_. Come home at once.\u201d It was signed \u201cFairy.\u201d\n\n\u201cHome at once!\u201d The post-marks said London and Leighstone. London, it\nmay be necessary to inform the reader, is the capital of a county called\nMiddlesex, in a country called England, while Leighstone is a small\ncountry town some thirty miles out of London. From Leighstone writes\n\u201cFairy\u201d to \u201cDear, dear Roger\u201d some thousand--it seems fifty thousand--odd\nmiles away. The father reported dying is my father; Fairy is my sister.\nIt is now nearly two in the morning, and by four in the afternoon Mr.\nCulpepper and the printers expect that brisk, pleasant, old-fashioned\nChristmas story that is to make everybody happy, and not a hint at pain\nin it! And I have been puzzling my brains these long hours past trying\nto compose it, with that silent letter staring me in the face all the\ntime. A pleasant Christmas story, a cheery Christmas story! How bitterly\nthat voice began to laugh within me again! Oh! the folly, the crime, of\nwhich I had been guilty. It was such vain and idle dreams as these that\nhad lured me away from that father\u2019s side; that had brought me almost to\nforget him; that, great God! perhaps had dealt the blow that struck him\ndown. Merciful heavens! what a Christmas story will it be mine to tell?\n\nAt four in the afternoon a steamer sailed for Liverpool, and I was one\nof the passengers. Years have passed since then, and I can write all\nthis calmly enough now; but only those--and God grant that they may be\nfew!--who at a moment\u2019s warning, or at any warning, have had to cross\nmore than a thousand miles of ocean in the hope of catching a dying\nparent\u2019s last breath, can tell how the days pall and the sleepless nights\ndrag on; how the sky expands into a mighty shroud covering one dear\nobject, of which the sad eyes never lose the sight; how the winds, roar\nthey loud or sing they softly, breathe ever the same low, monotonous\ndirge.\n\nIt was scarcely a year since I had parted from my father, and our parting\nhad not been of the friendliest. He was a magnate in Leighstone, as all\nthe Herberts before him had been since Leighstone had a history. They\nwere a tradition in the place; and though to be great there in these days\ndid not mean what it once meant, and to the world outside signified very\nlittle indeed, yet what is so exacting or punctilious as the etiquette\nof a petty court, what so precise and well preserved as its narrow\ntraditions and customs? Time did not exist for Leighstone when a Herbert\nwas not the foremost man there. The tomb of the Herberts was the oldest\nand grandest in the churchyard that held the ashes of whole generations\nof the Leighstone folk. There had been Crusading Herberts, and Bishops\nHerbert, Catholic and Protestant, Abbots Herbert, Justices Herbert,\nHerberts that had shared in councils of state, and Herberts that had been\nhanged, drawn, and quartered by order of the state. Old townsfolk would\nbring visitors to the churchyard and give in their own way the history of\n\u201cthat ere Harbert astretched out atop o\u2019 the twomb, wi\u2019 a swoord by his\nsoide, and gluvs on his hands, the two on \u2019em folded one aginst t\u2019other\na-prayin\u2019 loike, and a cross on his buzzum, and a coople o\u2019 angels wi\u2019\nstone wings a-watchin\u2019 each side o\u2019 \u2019im. A had fowt in the waars long\nago, that ere Harbert had, when gentle-folk used to wear steel coats,\na used, and iron breeches, and go ever so fur over the seas to foight.\nQueer toimes them was. Whoi, the Harberts, folks did say, was the oldest\nfam\u2019ly i\u2019 the country. Leastwoise, there was few \u2019uns older.\u201d\n\nMy father was possessed with the greatness of his ancestry, and resented\nthe new-fangled notions that professed to see nothing in blood or\nhistory. Nurtured on tradition of a past that would never reappear,\nhe speedily retired from a world where he was too eager to see that a\nHerbert was no more than a Jones or a Smith, and, though gifted with\npowers that, rightly used, might have proved, even in these days, that\nthere was more in his race than tradition of a faded past, he preferred\nwithdrawing into that past to reproducing it in a manner accommodated\nto the new order of things. In all other respects he was a very amiable\nEnglish gentleman, who, abjuring politics, which he held had degenerated\ninto a trade unbecoming a gentleman\u2019s following, divided his time between\nantiquarian and agricultural pursuits, for neither of which did I exhibit\nso ardent an admiration as he had hoped. As soon as I could read, and\nthink, and reason in my own way, I ran counter to my father in many\nthings, and was pronounced by him to be a radical, infected with the\ndangerous doctrines of the day, which threatened the overthrow of all\nthings good, and the advent of all things evil. He only read in history\nthe records of a few great families. For me the families were of far\nless interest than the peoples, historically at least. The families had\nalready passed or were passing away; the peoples always remained. To the\nfamilies I attributed most of the evils that had afflicted humanity; in\nthe peoples I found the stuff that from time to time helped to regenerate\nhumanity. I do not say that all this came to me at once; but this manner\nof looking at things grew upon me, and made my father anxious about my\nfuture, though he was too kind to place any great restrictions in the way\nof my pursuits, and our disputes would generally end by the injunction:\n\u201cRoger, whatever you do or think, always remember that you represent a\nnoble race, and are by your very birth an English gentleman, so long as\nsuch a being is permitted to exist.\u201d\n\nAs I grew older problems thickened around me, and I often envied the\npassive resignation with which so spirited a temperament as my father\u2019s\ncould find refuge from the exciting questions of the day in the quiet\nof his books and favorite pursuits. Coming home from college or from an\noccasional excursion into the great world without, Leighstone would seem\nto me a hermitage, where life was extinct, and there was room for nothing\nsave meditation. And there I meditated much, and pondered and read, as I\nthen thought, deeply. The quaint, old churchyard was my favorite ground\nfor colloquy with myself, and admirably adapted, with its generations of\nsilent dead, was it for the purpose. In that very tomb lay bones, once\nclothed with flesh, through which coursed lustily blood that had filtered\ndown through the ages into my veins. In my thoughts I would question\nthat quiet old Herbert stretched out there on his tomb centuries ago,\nand lying so still, with his calm, stony face upturned immovably and\nconfidently to heaven. The face was not unlike my father\u2019s; Leighstone\nfolk said it was still more like mine. That Herbert was a Catholic, and\nbelieved earnestly in all that I and my father as earnestly disbelieved.\nWas he the worse or the better man for his faith? To what had his faith\nled him, and to what had ours led us? What was his faith, and what was\nours? To us he was a superstitious creature, born in dark ages, and the\nvictim of a cunning priestcraft, that, in the name of heaven, darkened\nthe minds and hearts of men; while, had he dreamed that a degenerate\nchild of his would ever, even in after-ages, turn heretic, as he would\nsay, the probabilities were that in his great-hearted earnestness, had it\nrested solely with him, he would rather have ended the line in his own\nperson than that such disgrace should ever come upon it. The man who in\nhis day had dared tell him that flesh of his would ever revile the church\nin which he believed, and the Sacrament which he adored, would likely\nenough have been piously knocked on the head for his pains. What a puzzle\nit all was! Could a century or two make all this difference in the manner\nof regarding the truths on which men professed to bind their hopes of an\neternal hereafter?\n\nOne afternoon of one of those real English summer days that when they\ncome are so balmy and bright and joyous, while sauntering through the\nchurchyard, I lighted upon a figure half buried in the long grass, so\ndeeply intent on deciphering the inscription around the tomb of my\nancestor that he did not notice my approach. There he lay, his hat by\nhis side, and an open sketch-book near it, peering into the dim, old,\nhalf-effaced characters as curiously as ever did alchemist of eld into an\nold black-letter volume. His years could not be many more than mine. His\nform would equally attract the admiration of a lady or a prize-fighter.\nThe sign of ruddy health burned on the bronzed cheek. The dress had\nnothing particular in it to stamp the character of the wearer. The\nsketch-book and his absorbing interest in the grim old characters around\na tomb might denote the enthusiasm of an artist, or of an antiquarian\nlike my father, though he looked too full of the robust life of careless\nyouth for the one, and too evidently in the enjoyment of life as it was\nfor the other. Altogether a man that, encountered thus in a country\nchurchyard on a warm July afternoon, would at once excite the interest\nand attract the attention of a passer-by.\n\nWhile I was mentally noting down, running up, and calculating to a\nnicety the sum of his qualities, the expression of his face indicated\nthat he was engaged in a hopeless task. \u201cI can make all out about the\nold Crusader except the date, and that is an all-important point. The\ndate--the date--the date,\u201d he repeated to himself aloud. \u201cI wonder what\nCrusade he fought in?\u201d\n\n\u201cPerhaps I could assist you,\u201d I broke in. \u201cSir Roger Herbert followed the\ngood King Edward to the Holy Land, and for the sake of Christ\u2019s dear rood\nmade many a proud painim to bite the dust. So saith the old chronicle\nof the Abbey of S. Wilfrid which you see still standing--the modernized\nversion of it, at least--on yonder hill. The present abbot of S. Wilfrid\nis the florid gentleman who has just saluted me. That handsome lady\nbeside him is the abbot\u2019s wife. The two pretty girls seated opposite are\nthe abbot\u2019s daughters. The good and gentle Abbot Jones is taking the fair\nabbess, Mrs. Jones, out for her afternoon airing. She is a very amiable\nlady; he is a very genial gentleman, and the author of the pamphlet in\nreply to Maitland\u2019s _Dark Ages_. Mr. Jones is very severe on the laziness\nand general good-for-nothingness of the poor monks.\u201d\n\nMy companion, who still remained stretched on the grass, scanned my face\ncuriously and with an amused glance while I spoke. He seemed lost in a\nhalf-revery, from which he did not recover until a few moments after I\nhad ceased speaking. With sudden recollection, he said:\n\n\u201cI beg your pardon, I was thinking of something else. Many thanks for\nyour information about this old hero, whom the new train of ideas, called\nup by your mention of the Abbot Jones and his family, drove out of my\nmind a moment. The Abbot Jones!\u201d he laughed. \u201cIt is very funny. Yet why\ndo the two words seem so little in keeping?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is because, as my father would tell you, this is the century of the\nJoneses. Centuries ago Abbot Jones would have sounded just as well and as\nnaturally as did Queen Joan. But, in common with many another good thing,\nthe name has become vulgarized by a vulgar age.\u201d\n\nMy companion glanced at me curiously again, and seemed more inwardly\namused than before, whether with me or at me, or both, it was impossible\nto judge from his countenance, though that was open enough. He turned\nfrom the abbot to the tomb again.\n\n\u201cAnd so this old hero,\u201d said he, patting affectionately the peaked toe of\nthe figure of Sir Roger, \u201cdrew his sword long ago for Christ\u2019s dear rood,\nand probably scaled the walls of Damietta at the head of a lusty band.\nWhat a doughty old fellow he must have been! I should have been proud to\nhave shaken hands with him.\u201d\n\n\u201cShould you, indeed? Then perhaps you will allow a remote relative of\nthat doughty old fellow to act as his unworthy representative in his\nabsence?\u201d said I, offering my hand.\n\n\u201cWhy, you don\u2019t mean to say that you are a descendant of the old knight\nwhose ashes consecrate this spot!\u201d he exclaimed, rising and grasping\nme by the hand. \u201cSir, I am happy to lay my hand in that of a son of a\nCrusader!\u201d\n\n\u201cI fear I may not claim so high a character. There are no Crusaders\nleft. Myself, and Sir Roger here, move in different circles. You forget\nthat a few centuries roll between us.\u201d\n\n\u201cCenturies change the fashion of men\u2019s garments,\u201d he responded quickly,\n\u201cnot the fashion of their hearts. Truth is truth, and faith faith, and\nhonor honor, now as when this warrior fought for faith, and truth, and\nhonor. The crusades end only with the cross and faith in Christ.\u201d\n\nSo spake with fervent accent and kindling glance the gentleman whom a\nfew moments before I had set down as one eminently fitted to attract the\nadmiration alike of lady or prize-fighter. The words struck me as so\nstrange, spoken in such a place and by such a person, that I was silent a\nlittle, and he also. At length I said:\n\n\u201cYou are like my father. You seem to prefer the old to the new.\u201d\n\n\u201cNot so; I am particularly grateful that I was born in this and in no\nother century. But I object to the enthusiasm that would leave all the\ndead past to bury its dead. There were certain things, certain qualities\nin the centuries gone by, a larger faith, a more general fervor, a\nloyalty to what was really good and great, more universal than prevails\nto-day, that we might have preserved with benefit to ourselves and to\ngenerations to come. But pardon me. You have unfortunately hit upon one\nof my hobbies, and I could talk for hours on the subject.\u201d\n\n\u201cOn the contrary, I ought to feel flattered at finding one interested\neven in so remote a relative of mine as Sir Roger. As I look at him this\nmoment the thought comes to me, could he bend those stiff old knees of\nhis, hardened by the centuries into triple stone, rise up and walk\nthrough Leighstone, live a week among us, question us, know our thoughts,\nfeelings, aspirations, religions, ascertain all that we have profited by\nthe centuries that have rolled over this tomb, he would, after one week\nof it all, gather his old joints together and go back to his quiet rest\nuntil that\n\n    \u2018Tuba mirum spargens sonum\n    Per sepulchra regionum\n    Coget omnes ante thronum.\u2019\n\n\u201cI can\u2019t help laughing at the conceit. Imagine me escorting this\nstiff and stony old Sir Roger through the streets of Leighstone, and\nintroducing him to my relations and friends as my grandfather some six\ncenturies removed. But the fancy sounds irreverent to one whom I doubt\nnot was as loyal-hearted a gentleman as ever clove a Turk to the chine.\nPoor old Sir Roger! I must prevent Mattock making such constant use of\nhis elbow. It is getting quite out of repair.\u201d\n\n\u201cWho is Mattock, may I ask?\u201d\n\n\u201cMattock is a character in his way. He is the Leighstone grave-digger,\nand has been as long as I can remember. He claims a kind of fellowship\nwith those he buries, and he has buried a whole generation of\nLeighstonites, till a contagious hump has risen on his back from the\nnumber of mounds he has raised. He is a cynic in his way, and can be\nas philosophic over a skull as Hamlet in the play. He has a wonderful\nrespect, almost a superstitious regard, for Sir Roger. Whenever he\nstrips for a burial, he commends his goods to the care of my ancestor,\naccompanied always by the same remark: \u2018I wonder who laid thee i\u2019\nthe airth? A weighty corpse thou, a warrant. A deep grave thine, old\nstone-beard. Well, lend\u2019s your elbow, and here\u2019s to ye, wherever ye\nmay be.\u2019 Mattock takes special care to fortify himself against possible\ncontingencies with a dram. \u2018Cold corpses,\u2019 he says, \u2018is unhealthy. They\nare apt to lie heavy on the stomick, if ye doant guard agin \u2019em; corpses\ndoos. So doos oysters. A dram afore burial and another dram after keeps\noff the miasmys.\u2019 Such is Mattock\u2019s opinion, backed up by an experience\nof a quarter of a century. You are evidently a stranger in this\nneighborhood?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, I was merely passing through. I am enjoying a walking tour, being a\ngreat walker. It is by far the best method of seeing a country. When in\nthe course of my wanderings I come across an old tomb such as this, an\nold inscription, or anything at all that was wrought or writ by reverent\nhands centuries ago, and has survived through the changes of time, I am\namply repaid for a day\u2019s march. Doubly so in this instance, since it\nhas been the fortunate means of bringing me in contact with one whose\nopinions I am happy to think run in many things parallel with my own. And\nnow to step out of the past into the very vulgar present, I am staying\nat the \u2018Black Bull.\u2019 The \u2018Black Bull,\u2019 I am assured, is famous for his\nlarder, so that, if you feel inclined to ripen the acquaintance begun by\nthe grave of your ancestor, in the interior of the \u2018Black Bull,\u2019 Kenneth\nGoodal will consider that he has fallen on an exceptionally happy day.\u201d\n\n\u201cKenneth Goodal?\u201d The name struck me as familiar; but I could not\nrecollect at the moment where I had heard it before. I repeated it aloud.\n\n\u201cIt sounds quite a romantic name, does it not? It was my absurd mother\nwho insisted on the Kenneth, after a Scotch uncle of mine. For that\nmatter I suppose it was she who also insisted on the Goodal. At least\nmy father says so. But she is the sweetest of women to have her own\nway, Heaven bless her! Of course I had no voice in the matter at all,\nbeyond the generic squeal of babyhood. Had I been consulted, I should\nhave selected Jack, a jolly, rough-and-ready title. It carries a sort\nof slap-me-on-the-back sound with it. One is never surprised at a Jack\ngetting into scrapes or getting out of them. But it would cause very\nconsiderable surprise to hear that a Kenneth had been caught in any wild\nenterprise. However, Kenneth I am, and Kenneth I must remain, as staid\nand respectable as a policeman on duty by very force of title.\u201d\n\n\u201cNow I remember where I heard the name. There were traditions at Dr.\nPorteous\u2019, at Kingsclere, of a Kenneth Goodal who had just left before I\nwent there. But he can\u2019t have been you.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo? Why not?\u201d\n\n\u201cHe was an awful scape-grace, they told me. He used to play all kinds\nof tricks on the masters, though as great a favorite with them as with\nthe boys. He was a great mimic, and Dr. Porteous, who is as solemn as an\nundertaker at a rich man\u2019s funeral, and as pompous as a parish beadle,\nsurprised Kenneth Goodal one day, surrounded by a delighted crowd,\nlistening with such rapt attention to a highly wrought discourse, after\nthe doctor\u2019s best manner, on the history and philosophy of Resurrection\nPie, that it required the unmistakable \u2018ahem!\u2019 of the doctor at the close\nto announce to actor and audience the presence of the original. The\ndoctor in the grand old-school manner congratulated the youthful Roscius\non talents of whose existence he had been hitherto unaware, and hinted\nthat a repetition of so successful a performance might encourage him to\nseek a wider field for so promising a pupil. And when the same Kenneth\nthrashed the Kingsclere Champion for beating one of the youngsters,\nbribing the policeman not to interfere until he had finished him, the\ndoctor, who was a model of decorum, had him up before the whole college,\nand delivered an address that is not quite forgotten to this day;\nacknowledging the credit to the establishment of such a champion in their\nmidst; a young gentleman who could mimic his superiors until his identity\nwas lost, and pummel his inferiors until their identity was lost, was\nwasting his great natural gifts in so narrow an arena; and so on--all\ndelivered in the doctor\u2019s best Ciceronian style. It took a deputation\nof all the masters and all the boys together to beg the delinquent off\na rustication or worse. In fact, the stories of him and his deeds are\nendless. How odd that you should have the same name!\u201d\n\nMy new acquaintance laughed outright.\n\n\u201cI fear I must lay claim to more than the name; that historical personage\nstands before you. I was with Dr. Porteous for a couple of years, and had\nno idea that I left such fame behind me. The doctor and I became the best\nof friends after my departure. And so you and I are, in a manner, old\nschool-fellows? How happy I am to have fallen across you. But, come; the\n\u2018Black Bull\u2019 is waiting.\u201d\n\n\u201cBy the elbow of mine ancestor, nay. Such dishonor may not come upon the\nHerberts. Why, Sir Roger here would rise from his tomb at the thought and\ndenounce me in the market-place. You must come with me. Dinner is ready\nby this time. Come as you are. My father will like you. He likes any one\nwho is interested in his ancestors. And my sister, who, since my mother\u2019s\ndeath, is mistress of the house and mistress of us all, shall answer for\nherself.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo be it,\u201d he said, and we passed under the yews, their sad branches\nflushed in the sun, out through the gate, under the old archway with its\nmouldering statues, up the pretty straggling road that formed the High\nStreet of Leighstone, arm in arm together, fast friends we each of us\nfelt, though but acquaintances of an hour. The instinct that out of a\nmultitude selects one, though you may scarcely know his name, and tells\nyou that one is your friend, is as strange as unerring. It was this\nunconscious necromancy that had woven a mesh of golden threads caught\nfrom the summer sunlight around us as we moved along. Its influence\nwas upon us, breathing in the perfumed air. I had never had a real\nfriend of my own age before, and I hailed this one as the discovery of\na life-time. We should strike out together, tread the same path, be it\nrough or smooth, arm in arm until the end come. Damon and Pythias would\nbe nothing to us. The same loves, the same hates, the same hopes, were to\nguide, animate, and sustain us. Castles in the air! Castles in the air!\nWho has not built them? Who among the sons of men in the neighborhood of\ntwenty summers has not chosen one man out of thousands, leant upon him,\ncherished him, made him his idol, loved him above all? And so it goes\non, until some day comes a laughing eye peeping from under a bonnet, and\nwith one dart the bosom friendship is smitten through and through, and\nDamon is ready to sacrifice a hecatomb of his Pythiases on the altar of\nthe ox-eyed goddess.\n\nTO BE CONTINUED.\n\n\nIN MEMORIAM.\n\nE. T.\n\nOBIIT ANNOS NATA XV.\n\n    Who says she has wither\u2019d, that little White Rose?\n      She has been but remov\u2019d from the valley of tears\n    To a garden afar, where her loveliness glows\n      Begemm\u2019d with the grace-dew of virginal years,\n\n    I knew we should lose her. The dear Sacred Heart\n      Has a nook in earth\u2019s desert for flowerets so rare;\n    And keeps them awhile in safe shelter, apart\n      From the wind and the rain, from the dust and the glare;\n\n    But all to transplant them when fairest they bloom,\n      When most we shall miss them. And this, that our love\n    May be haunted the more by the fadeless perfume\n      They have left us to breathe of the Eden above.\n\n    Farewell, happy maiden! Our weariest hours\n      May gather a share of thy perfect repose.\n    And fragrantly still with the Lord of the flowers\n      Thou wilt plead for thy lov\u2019d ones--our little Saint Rose.[14]\n\n    FEBRUARY 27, 1875.[15]\n\n\nTHE TRAGEDY OF THE TEMPLE.\n\nHistory is like a prison-house, of which Time is the only jailer who\ncan reveal the secrets. And Father Time is slow to speak. Sometimes\nhe is strangely dumb concerning events of deep importance, sometimes\nidly garrulous about small matters. When now and then he reveals some\nlong-kept secret, we refuse to believe him; we cannot credit that such\nthings ever happened on this planet of ours, so respectable in its\ncivilized humanity, so tenderly zealous for the welfare and freedom of\nits remotest members. But this same humanity is a riddle to which our\nproudest philosophers have not yet found the clew. It moves mountains to\ndeliver an oppressed mouse, and sits mute and apathetic while a nation\nof weak brothers is being hunted to death by a nation of strong ones in\nthe midst of its universal brotherhood; seeing the most sacred principles\nand highest interests of the world attacked and imperilled, and the\nearth shaken with throes and rendings that will bring forth either life\nor death, exactly as humanity shall decide, and yet not moving a finger\neither way. Then, when the storm is over and it beholds the wreck caused\nby its own apathy or stupidity, it fills the world with an \u201cagony of\nlamentation,\u201d gnashes its teeth, and protests that it slept, and knew not\nthat these things were being done in its name.\n\nSometimes the funeral knell of the victims goes on echoing like a distant\nthunder-tone for a whole generation, and is scarcely heeded, until at\nlast some watcher hearkens, and wakes us up, and, lo! we find that a\ntragedy has been enacted at our door, and the victim has been crying\nout piteously for help while we slumbered. History is full of these\nslumberings and awakenings. What an awakening for France was that when,\nafter the lapse of two generations, the jailer struck the broken stones\nof the Temple, and gave them a voice to tell their story, bidding all the\nworld attend!\n\nThe account of the imprisonment and death of Louis XVII. had hitherto\ncome down to his people stripped of much of its true character, and\nclothed with a mistiness that disguised the naked horror of the truth,\nand flattered the sensitive vanity of the nation into the belief--or\nat any rate into the plausible hope--that much had been exaggerated,\nand that the historians of those times had used too strong colors in\nportraying the sufferings of the son of their murdered king. The _Grande\nNation_ had been always grand; she had had her hour of delirium, and run\nwild in anarchy and chaos while it lasted; but she had never disowned\nher essential greatness, never forfeited her humanity, the grandeur of\nher mission as the eldest daughter of the church of Christ, and the\napostle of civilization among the peoples. The demon in man\u2019s shape,\ncalled Simon the Cordwainer, had disgraced his manhood by torturing\na feeble, inoffensive child committed to his mercy, but he alone was\nresponsible. The governing powers of the time were in total ignorance\nof his proceedings; France had no share in the blame or the infamy. The\nsensational legend of the Temple was bad enough, but at its worst no\none was responsible but Simon, a besotted shoemaker. It was even hinted\nthat the Dauphin had been rescued, and had not died in the Tower at all,\nand many tender-hearted Frenchmen clung long and tenaciously to this\nfiction. But at the appointed time one man, at the bidding of the great\nSecret-Teller, stood forth and tore away the veil, and discovered to all\nthe world the things that had been done, not by Simon the Cordwainer, but\nby the _Grande Nation_ in his person. M. de Beauchesne[16] was that man,\nand nobly, because faithfully and inexorably, he fulfilled his mission.\nIt was a fearful message that he had to deliver, and there is no doubt\nbut that his work--the result of twenty years\u2019 persevering research and\nstudy--moved the hearts of his countrymen as no book had ever before\nmoved them. It made an end once and for ever of garbled narratives, and\ncomforting fables, and bade the guilty nation look upon the deeds she had\ndone, and atone for them with God\u2019s help as best she might.\n\nIn reading the records of those mad times one ceases to wonder at recent\nevents. They give the key to all subsequent crimes and wanderings. A\nnation that deliberately, in cold, premeditated hate and full wakefulness\nof reason, decrees by law in open court that God does not exist, and\nforthwith abolishes him by act of parliament--a nation that does this\ncommits itself to the consequences. France did this in the National\nConvention of 1793, and why should she not pay the penalty?\n\nOf all the victims of that bloody period, there is none whose story is\nso touching as that of the little son of Louis and Marie Antoinette. He\nwas born at Versailles on the 27th of March, 1785. All eye-witnesses\ndescribe him as a bright and lovely child, with shining curls of fair\nhair, large, blue eyes, liquid as a summer sky, and a countenance of\nangelic sweetness and rare intelligence--\u201ca thing of joy\u201d to all who\nbeheld him. Crowds waited for hours to catch a glimpse of him disporting\nhimself in his little garden before the palace, a flower amidst the\nflower-beds, prattling with every one, making the old park ring with\nhis joyous laughter. One day, when in the midst of his play, he ran to\nmeet his mother, and, flinging himself into a bush for greater haste,\ngot scratched by the thorns; the queen chided him for the foolish\nimpetuosity. \u201cHow then?\u201d replied the child; \u201cyou told me only yesterday\nthat the road to glory was through thorns.\u201d \u201cYes, but glory means\ndevotion to duty, my son,\u201d was Marie Antoinette\u2019s reply. \u201cThen,\u201d cried\nthe little man, throwing his arms, round her knees, \u201cI will make it my\nglory to be devoted to you, mamma!\u201d He was about four years old when this\nanecdote was told of him.\n\nIt is rather characteristic of the child\u2019s destiny that two hours after\nthe bereavement which made him Dauphin of France, and while his parents\nwere breaking their hearts by the still warm body of his elder brother,\na deputation from the Tiers Etat came to demand an audience of the\nking. Louis XVI. was a prey to the first agony of his paternal grief,\nand sent to entreat the deputies to spare him, and return another day.\nThey sent back an imperious answer, insisting on his appearing. \u201cAre\nthere no fathers amongst them?\u201d exclaimed the king; but he came out and\nreceived them. The incident was trifling, yet it held one of those notes\nof prophetic anticipation which now first began to be heard, foretelling\nthe approaching storm in which the old ship of French royalty was to be\nwrecked.\n\nOn the 6th of October the palace of Versailles was stormed by the mob;\nthe guards were massacred, the royal family led captives to Paris amidst\nthe triumphant yells of the _sans-culottes_. Then followed the gilded\ncaptivity of the Tuileries, which lasted three years; then came the 10th\nof August, when this was exchanged for the more degrading prison of the\nTemple; then the _Conciergerie_--then the scaffold.\n\nThe Temple was a Gothic fortress built in 1212 by the Knights of the\nTemple. It had been long inhabited by those famous warrior-knights,\nand consisted of two distinct towers, which were so constructed as to\nresemble one building. The great tower was a massive structure divided\ninto five or six stories, above a hundred and fifty feet high, with a\npyramidal roof like an extinguisher, having at each corner a turret\nwith a conical roof like a steeple. This was formerly the keep, and had\nbeen used as treasury and arsenal by the Templars; it was accessible\nonly by a single door in one turret, opening on a narrow stone stair.\nThe other was called the Little Tower, a narrow oblong with turrets at\neach angle, and attached, without any internal communication, to its big\nneighbor on the north side. Close by, within the enclosure of the Temple,\nstood an edifice which had in olden times been the dwelling-house of\nthe prior, and it was here the royal family were incarcerated on their\narrival. The place was utterly neglected and dilapidated, but from its\nconstruction and original use it was capable of being made habitable.\nThe king believed that they were to remain here, and visited the empty,\nmouldy rooms next day, observing to Cl\u00e9ry what changes and repairs were\nmost urgently required. No such luxurious prospect was, however, in store\nfor them. They were merely huddled into the Prior\u2019s Hotel while some\npreparations were being made for their reception in the tower. These\npreparations consisted in precautions, equally formidable and absurd,\nagainst possible rescue or flight. The heavy oak doors, the thick stone\nwalls, which had proved safe enough for murderers and rebel warriors,\nwere not considered secure for the timid king and his wife and children.\nDoors and windows were reinforced with iron bars, bolts, and wooden\nblinds. The corkscrew stair was So narrow that only one person could pass\nit at a time, yet new iron-plated doors were put up, and bars thrown\nacross it at intervals, to prevent escape. The door leading from it into\nthe royal prisoners\u2019 apartment was so low that when Marie Antoinette\nwas dragged from her children, after the king\u2019s death, to be taken to\nthe _Conciergerie_, she knocked her head violently against the upper\npart of it, exclaiming to some one who hoped she was not hurt, \u201cNothing\ncan hurt me now!\u201d The Abb\u00e9 Edgeworth thus describes the access to the\nking\u2019s rooms: \u201cI was led across the court to the door of the tower,\nwhich, though very narrow and very low, was so overcharged with iron\nbolts and bars that it opened with a horrible noise. I was conducted up a\nwinding stair so narrow that two persons would have had great difficulty\nin getting past each other. At short distances these stairs were cut\nacross by barriers, at each of which was a sentinel; these men were all\ntrue _sans-culottes_, generally drunk, and their atrocious exclamations,\nre-echoed by the vast vaults which covered every story of the tower,\nwere really terrifying.\u201d For still greater security all the adjoining\nbuildings which crowded round the tower were thrown down. This work of\ndestruction was entrusted to Palloy, a zealous patriot, whose energy in\nhelping to pull down the Bastile pointed him out as a fit instrument for\nthe occasion. These external arrangements fitly symbolized the systematic\nbrutality which was organized from the first by the Convention, and\nrelentlessly carried out by its agents on each succeeding victim, but\nby no one so ferociously as Simon the shoemaker. The most appalling\nriddle which the world has yet set us to solve is the riddle of the\nFrench Revolution. The deepest thinkers, the shrewdest philosophers, are\npuzzling over it still, and will go on puzzling to the crack of doom.\nThere are causes many and terrible which explain the grand fact of the\nnation\u2019s revolt itself; why, when once the frenzy broke out, the people\nmurdered the king, and butchered all belonging to him, striving to bring\nabout a new birth, a different order of things, by a baptism of blood,\nthe death and annihilation of the old system--many wise and solemn words\nhave been uttered concerning these things, many answers which, if they\ndo not justify the madness of the Revolution, help us to pity, and in\na measure excuse, its actors; but the enigma which no one has ever yet\nsolved, or attempted to solve, is the excess of cruelty practised on\nthe fair-haired child whose sole crime was his misfortune in being the\ndescendant of the kings of France.\n\nThe Princesse de Lamballe fell on the 3d of September at the prison of La\nForce. The National Guards carried the head on a pike through the city,\nand then hoisted it under the windows of the king, and clamored for him\nto come out and show himself. One young officer, more humane than his\ncompeers, rushed forward and prevented it, and saved Louis from beholding\nthe dreadful spectacle. The king was deeply grateful for the kind action,\nand asked the officer\u2019s name. \u201cAnd who was the other who tried to force\nyour majesty out?\u201d enquired M. de Malesherbes. \u201cOh! I did not care to\nknow his name!\u201d replied Louis gently. That was a night of horrors. The\ntwo princesses, Mme. Royale and Princess Elizabeth, could not sleep; the\ndrums were beating to arms, and they sat in silence, \u201clistening to the\nsobs of the queen, which never ceased.\u201d But more cruel days were yet in\nstore. Before the month was out the Commune de Paris issued a decree for\nthe separation of the king from his wife and children. \u201cThey felt it,\u201d\nsays this curious document, \u201ctheir imperious duty to prevent the abuses\nwhich might facilitate the evasion of those traitors, and therefore\ndecree, 1st, that Louis and Antoinette be separated.\n\n\u201c2d. That each shall have a separate dungeon (_cachot_).\n\n\u201c3d. That the _valet de chambre_ be placed in confinement, etc., etc.\u201d\n\nThat same night the king was removed to the second story of the great\ntower. The room was in a state of utter destitution; no preparations of\nthe commonest description had been made for receiving him. A straw bed\nwas thrown down on the floor; Cl\u00e9ry, his _valet_, had not even this, but\nsat up all night on a chair. A month later (October) the queen and her\nchildren were transferred to the story over that now occupied by Louis in\nthe great tower. On the 26th the Dauphin was torn from his mother under\nthe pretence that he was now too old to be left to the charge of women,\nbeing just seven years and six months. He was therefore lodged with his\nfather, who found his chief solace in teaching the child his lessons;\nthese consisted of Latin, writing, arithmetic, geography, and history.\nThe separation was for the present mitigated by the consolation of\nmeeting at meal-times, and being allowed to be together for some hours in\nthe garden every day. They bore all privations and the insults of their\njailers with unruffled patience and sweetness. Mme. Elizabeth and the\nqueen sat up at night to mend their own and the king\u2019s clothes, which the\nfact of their each having but one suit made it impossible for them to do\nin the daytime.\n\nThis comparatively merciful state of things lasted till the first week\nin December, when a new set of commissaries were appointed and the\ncaptives watched day and night with lynx-eyed rigor. On the 11th the\nprince was taken back to his mother, the king was summoned to the bar\nof the Convention, and on his return to prison was informed that he was\nhenceforth totally separated from his family. He never saw them again\nuntil the eve of his death. The Duchesse d\u2019Angoul\u00eame (Mme. Royale) has\ndescribed that interview to us with her usual simplicity and pathos: \u201cMy\nfather, at the moment of parting with us for ever, made us promise never\nto think of avenging his death. He was well satisfied that we should hold\nsacred his last instructions; but the extreme youth of my brother made\nhim desirous of producing a still stronger impression upon him. He took\nhim on his knee, and said to him, \u2018My son, you have heard what I have\nsaid, but, as an oath is something more sacred than words, hold up your\nhand and swear that you will accomplish the last wish of your father.\u2019 My\nbrother obeyed, bursting into tears, and this touching goodness redoubled\nours.\u201d\n\nThe next day Louis had gone to receive the reward promised to the\nmerciful, to those who return love for hate, blessings for curses. When\nthe guillotine had done its work, the shouts of the infuriated city\nannounced to the queen that she was a widow. Her agony was inconsolable.\nIn the afternoon of this awful day she asked to see Cl\u00e9ry, hoping that he\nmight have some message for her from the king, with whom he had remained\ntill his departure from the Temple. She guessed right; the faithful\nservant had been entrusted with a ring, which the king desired him to\ndeliver to her with the assurance that he never would have parted with it\nbut with his life. But Cl\u00e9ry was not allowed the mournful privilege of\nfulfilling his trust in person; he was kept a month in the Temple, and\nthen released. \u201cWe had now a little more freedom,\u201d continues Mme. Royale.\n\u201cThe guards even believed that we were about to be sent out of France;\nbut nothing could calm the agony of the queen. No hope could touch her\nheart; life was indifferent to her, and she did not fear death.\u201d\n\nHer son, meanwhile, had nominally become King of France. The armies of\nLa Vend\u00e9e proclaimed him as Louis XVII., under the regency of his uncle,\nthe Comte de Provence. He was King of France everywhere except in France,\nwhere he was the victim of a blind ferocity unexampled in the history of\nthe most wicked periods of the world.\n\nThe \u201cfreedom\u201d which the Duchesse d\u2019Angoul\u00eame speaks of lasted but a few\ndays; the royal family were all now in the queen\u2019s apartment, but kept\nunder, if possible, more rigid and humiliating supervision than before.\nTheir only attendants were a certain Tison and his wife, who had hitherto\nbeen employed in the most menial household work of the Temple. They were\ncoarse and ignorant by nature, and soon the confinement to which they\nwere themselves condemned so soured their temper that they grew cruel and\ninsolent, and avenged their own privations on their unhappy prisoners.\nThey denounced three of the municipals whom they detected in some signs\nof respect and sympathy for the queen, and these men were all guillotined\non the strength of the Tisons\u2019 evidence. The woman went mad with remorse\nwhen she beheld the mischief her denunciations had done. At first she\nsank into a black melancholy. Marie Antoinette and the Princess Elizabeth\nattended on her, and did their utmost to soothe her during the first\nstage of the malady; but their gentle charity was like coals of fire on\nthe head of their persecutor. She soon became furious, and had to be\ncarried away by force to a mad-house.\n\nAbout the 6th of May the young prince fell ill. The queen was alarmed,\nand asked to see M. Brunier, his ordinary physician; the request was\nmet with a mocking reply, and no further notice taken of it, until the\nchild\u2019s state became so serious that the prison doctor was ordered by\nthe Commune to go and see what was amiss with him. The doctor humanely\nconsulted M. Brunier, who was well acquainted with the patient\u2019s\nconstitution, and otherwise did all that was in his power to alleviate\nhis condition. This was not much, but the queen and Mme. Elizabeth, who\nfor three weeks never left the little sufferer\u2019s pillow, were keenly\nalive to the kindness of the medical man. This illness made no noise\noutside the Temple walls; but Mme. Royale always declared that her\nbrother had never really recovered from it, and that it was the first\nstage of the disease which ultimately destroyed him. The government\nhad hitherto been too busy with more important matters to have leisure\nto attend to such a trifle as the life or death of \u201clittle Capet.\u201d It\nwas busy watching and striving to control the struggle between the\nJacobins and the Girondists, which ended finally in the overthrow of the\nlatter. On the 9th of July, however, it suddenly directed its notice to\nthe young captive, and issued a decree ordering him to be immediately\nseparated from Antoinette, and confided to a tutor (_instituteur_), who\nshould be chosen by the nation. It was ten o\u2019clock at night when six\ncommissaries, like so many birds of ill-omen, entered the Temple, and\nascended the narrow, barricaded stairs leading to the queen\u2019s rooms.\nThe young prince was lying fast asleep in his little curtainless bed,\nwith a shawl suspended by tender hands to shade him from the light on\nthe table, where his mother and aunt sat mending their clothes. The men\ndelivered their message in loud tones; but the child slept on. It was\nonly when the queen uttered a great cry of despair that he awoke, and\nbeheld her with clasped hands praying to the commissaries. They turned\nfrom her with a savage laugh, and approached the bed to seize the prince.\nMarie Antoinette, quicker than thought, flew towards it, and, clasping\nhim in her arms, clung despairingly to the bed-post. One of the men was\nabout to use violence in order to seize the boy, but another stayed his\nhand, exclaiming: \u201cIt does not become us to fight with women; call up\nthe guard!\u201d Horror-stricken at the threat, Mme. Elizabeth cried out:\n\u201cNo, for God\u2019s sake, no! We submit, we cannot resist; but give us time\nto breathe. Let the child sleep out the night here. He will be delivered\nto you to-morrow.\u201d This prayer was spurned, and then the queen entreated\nas a last mercy that her son might remain in the tower, where she might\nstill see him. A commissary retorted brutally, _tutoyant_ her, \u201cWhat!\nyou make such a to-do because, forsooth, you are separated from your\nchild, while our children are sent to the frontiers to have their brains\nknocked out by the bullets which you bring upon us!\u201d The princesses now\nbegan to dress the prince; but never was there such a long toilet in this\nworld. Every article was passed from one to another, put on, taken off\nagain, and replaced after being drenched with tears. The commissaries\nwere losing patience. \u201cAt last,\u201d says Mme. Royale, the queen, gathering\nup all her strength, placed herself in a chair, with the child standing\nbefore her, put her hands on his little shoulders, and, without a tear or\na sigh, said with a grave and solemn voice, \u201cMy child, we are about to\npart. Bear in mind all I have said to you of your duties when I shall be\nno longer near to repeat it. Never forget God, who thus tries you, nor\nyour mother, who loves you. Be good, patient, kind, and your father will\nlook down from heaven and bless you.\u201d Having said this, she kissed him\nand handed him to the commissaries. One of them said: \u201cCome, I hope you\nhave done with your sermonizing; you have abused our patience finely.\u201d\nAnother dragged the boy out of the room, while a third added: \u201cDon\u2019t be\nuneasy; the nation will take care of him!\u201d Then the door closed. Take\ncare of him! Not even in that hour of supreme anguish, quickened as her\nimagination was by past and present experience of the nation\u2019s \u201ccare,\u201d\ncould his mother have pictured to herself what sort of guardianship was\nin preparation for her son. That night which saw him torn from her arms\nand from beneath the protecting shadow of her immense love, beheld the\nlittle King of France transferred to the pitiless hands of Simon and his\nwife.\n\nSimon was a thick-set, black-visaged man of fifty-eight years of age. He\nworked as a shoemaker next door to Marat, whose patronage procured for\nhim the office of \u201ctutor\u201d to the son of Louis XVI. His wife is described\nas an ill-favored woman of the same age as her husband, with a temper as\nsour and irascible as his was vicious and cruel. They got five hundred\nfrancs a month for maltreating the \u201clittle Capet,\u201d whom Simon never\naddressed except as \u201cviper.\u201d \u201cwolf-cub,\u201d \u201cpoison-toad,\u201d adding kicks and\nblows as expletives. For two days and nights the child wept unceasingly,\nrefusing to eat or sleep, and crying out continually to be taken back to\nhis mother. He was starved and beaten into sullen silence and a sort of\nhopeless submission. If he showed terror or surprise at a threat, it was\ntreated as insolent rebellion, and he was seized and beaten as if he had\nattempted a crime. All this first month of Simon\u2019s tutorship the child\nwas so ill as to be under medical treatment. But this was no claim on the\ntutor\u2019s mercy; if it had been, he would have been unfitted for his task,\nand would not have been chosen for it. He was astonished, nevertheless,\nat the indomitable spirit of his victim, at the quiet firmness with which\nhe bore his treatment, and at the perseverance with which he continued\nto insist on being restored to his mother. How long would it take to\nbreak this royal \u201cwolf-cub\u201d? Simon began to be perplexed about it. He\nmust have advice from headquarters, and fuller liberty for the exercise\nof his own ingenuity. Four members of the Committee of _S\u00fbret\u00e9 G\u00e9n\u00e9rale_\nbetook themselves to the Temple, and there held a conference with the\npatriot shoemaker which remains one of the most curious incidents of\nthose wonderful days. Amongst the four councillors was Drouet, the famous\npost-master of Sainte M\u00e9n\u00e9hould, and Chabot, an apostate monk. One of\nthe others related the secret conference to S\u00e9nart, secretary of the\ncommittee, who thus transcribed it at the time: \u201cCitizens,\u201d asks Simon,\n\u201cwhat do you decide as to the treatment of the wolf-cub? He has been\nbrought up to be insolent. I can tame him, but I cannot answer that he\nwill not sink under it (_crever_). So much the worse for him; but, after\nall, what do you mean to do with him? To banish him?\u201d Answer: \u201cNo.\u201d \u201cTo\nkill him?\u201d \u201cNo.\u201d \u201cTo poison him?\u201d \u201cNo.\u201d \u201cBut what, then?\u201d \u201c_To get rid of\nhim_\u201d (_s\u2019en d\u00e9faire_).\n\nFrom this forth the severity of Simon knew no bounds but those of his\nown fiendish powers of invention. He applied his whole energies to the\ntask of \u201cdoing away with\u201d the poor child. He made him slave like a dog at\nthe most laborious and menial work; he was shoe-black, turnspit, drudge,\nand victim at once. Not content with thus degrading him, Simon insisted\nthat the boy should wear the red cap as an external badge of degradation.\nThe republican symbol was no doubt associated in the child\u2019s mind with\nthe bloody riots of the year before; for the mere sight of it filled him\nwith terror, and nothing that his jailer could say or do could persuade\nhim to let it be placed on his head. Simon, exasperated by such firmness\nin one so frail and young, fell upon him and flogged him unmercifully,\nuntil at last Mme. Simon, who every now and then showed that the woman\nwas not quite dead within her, interfered to rescue the boy, declaring\nthat it made her sick to see him beaten in that way. But she hit upon\na mode of punishment which, though more humane, proved more crushing\nto the young captive than either threats or blows. His fair hair, in\nwhich his mother had taken such fond pride, still fell long and unkempt\nabout his shoulders. Mme. Simon declared that this was unseemly in the\nlittle Capet, and that he should be shorn like a son of the people. She\nforthwith proceeded to cut off the offending curls, and in a moment,\nbefore he realized what she was about to do, the shining locks lay strewn\nat his feet. The effect was terrible; the child uttered a piteous cry,\nand then lapsed into a state of sullen despair. All spirit seemed to\nhave died out of him; and when Simon, perceiving this, again approached\nhim with the hated cap, he made no resistance, gave no sign, but let it\nbe placed on his little shorn head in silence. The shabby black clothes\nthat he wore by way of mourning for his father were now taken off, and\nreplaced by a complete _Carmagnole_ costume; still Louis offered no\nopposition. He was taken out for exercise on the leads every day, and,\nto prevent the queen having the miserable satisfaction of catching a\nglimpse of him on these occasions, a wooden partition had been run up;\nit was loosely put together, however, and Mme. Elizabeth discovered a\nchink through which it was possible to see the captive as he passed.\nMarie Antoinette was filled with thankfulness when she heard of this,\nand overcoming her reluctance to leave her room, from which she had\nnever stirred since the king\u2019s death, she now used every subterfuge for\nremaining on the watch within sight of the chink. At last, on the 20th\nof July, her patience was rewarded. But what a spectacle it was that\nmet her gaze! Her beautiful, fair-haired child, cropped as if he had\njust recovered from a fever, and dressed out in the odious garb of his\nfather\u2019s murderers, driven along by the brutal Simon, and addressed in\ncoarse and horrible language. She was near enough to hear it, to see\nthe look of terror and suffering on the child\u2019s face as he passed. Yet,\nsuch strength does love impart to a mother in her most trying needs, the\nqueen was able to see it all and remain mute and still; she did not cry\nout, nor faint, nor betray by a single movement the horror that made\nher very heart stand still, but, rising slowly from the spot, returned\nto her room. The shock had almost paralyzed her, and she resolved that\nnothing should ever tempt her to renew it. But the longing of the\nmother\u2019s heart overcame all other feelings. The next day she returned to\nher watch-point, and waited for hours until the little feet were heard\non the leads again, accompanied as before by Simon\u2019s heavy tread and\nrough tones. What Marie Antoinette must have suffered during those few\ndays, when she beheld with her own eyes and heard with her own ears the\nsort of tutelage to which her innocent child was subjected, God, and\nperhaps a mother\u2019s heart, alone can tell. That young soul, whose purity\nshe had guarded as the very apple of her eye, was now exposed to the\nfoulest influences; for prayers and pious teachings he heard nothing but\nblasphemy and curses; his faith, that precious flower which had been\nplanted so reverently and watered with such tender care, what was to\nbecome of it--what had become of it already? None but God knew, and to\nGod alone did the mother look for help. He who saved Daniel in the lions\u2019\nden and the children in the fiery furnace was powerful to save his own\nnow, as then; he would save her child, for man was powerless to help.\nOne of Simon\u2019s diabolical amusements was to force the prince to use bad\nlanguage and sing blasphemous songs. Blows and threats were unavailing\nso long as the boy caught any part of the revolting sense of the words;\nbut at last, deceived no doubt by the very grossness of the expressions,\nand unable to penetrate their meaning, he took refuge from blows in\ncompliance, and with his sweet childish treble piped out songs that were\nnever heard beyond the precincts of a tavern or a guard-house. The queen\nheard this once. Angels heard it, too, and, closing their ears to the\nloathsome sounds, smiled with angels\u2019 pity on the unconscious treason of\ntheir little kindred spirit.\n\nBut this new crisis of misery was not of long duration to Marie\nAntoinette. About three days after her first vision of Simon and his\nvictim, the commissaries entered her room in the dead of the night, and\nread a decree, ordering them to convey her to the _Conciergerie_. This\nwas the first step of the scaffold. The summons would have been welcome\nto the widow of Louis XVI., if she had not been a mother; but she was,\nand the thought of leaving her son in the hands of men whose aim was not\nmerely to \u201cslay the body,\u201d but to destroy the soul, made the prospect of\nher own deliverance dreadful to contemplate. But God was there--God, who\nloved her son better and more availingly than even she loved him. She\ncommitted him once more to God, and commended her daughter to the tender\nand virtuous Elizabeth, little dreaming that the same fate which had\nbefallen the brother was soon to be awarded to the gentle, inoffensive\nsister.\n\nOn the same day that the queen was sent to the _Conciergerie_,\npreparatory to her execution, a member of the Convention sent a toy\nguillotine as a present to \u201cthe little Capet,\u201d doubtless with the\nmerciful design of acquainting the poor child with his mother\u2019s impending\nfate. A subaltern officer in the Temple, however, had the humanity to\nintercept the fiendish present, for the young prince never received it.\nIt was the fashion of the day to teach children to play at beheading\nsparrows, which were sold on the boulevards with little guillotines,\nby way of teaching them to love the republic and to scorn death. It is\nrather a curious coincidence that Chaumette, the man who sent the satanic\ntoy to the Dauphin, was himself decapitated by it a year before the death\nof the child whom he thought to terrify by his cruel gift.\n\nWhile the mock trial of the queen was going on, Simon pursued more\ndiligently than ever his scheme of demoralization. A design which must\nfirst have originated in some fiend\u2019s brain had occurred to him, and it\nwas necessary to devise new means for carrying it into execution. He\nwould make this spotless, idolized child a witness against his mother;\nthe little hand which hers had guided in forming its first letters, and\ntaught to lift itself in prayer, should be made an instrument in the most\nrevolting calumny which the human mind ever conceived. Simon began to\nmake the boy drink; when he attempted to refuse, the liquor was poured\ninto his mouth by force; until at last, stupefied and unconscious of what\nhe was doing, unable to comprehend the purpose or consequence of the act,\nhe signed his name to a document in which the most heinous accusations\nwere brought against his august mother. The same deposition was presented\nto his sister for her signature; but without the same success. \u201cThey\nquestioned me about a thousand terrible things of which they accused my\nmother and my aunt,\u201d says Mme. Royale; \u201cand, frightened as I was, I could\nnot help exclaiming that they were wicked falsehoods.\u201d The examination\nlasted three hours, for the deputies hoped that the extreme youth and\ntimidity of the princess would enable them to compel her consent to sign\nthe paper; but in this they were mistaken. \u201cThey forgot,\u201d continues Mme.\nRoyale, \u201cthe life that I had led for four years past, and, above all,\nthat the example shown me by my parents had given me more energy and\nstrength of mind.\u201d The queen\u2019s trial lasted two entire days and nights\nwithout intermission. Not a single accusation, political or otherwise,\nwas confirmed by a feather\u2019s weight of evidence. But what did that\nsignify? The judges had decreed beforehand that she must die. H\u00e9bert\nbrought forward the document signed by her son; she listened in silent\nscorn, and disdained to answer. One of the paid assassins on the jury\ndemanded why she did not speak. The queen, thus adjured, drew herself up\nwith all the majesty of outraged motherhood, and, casting her eyes over\nthe crowded court, replied: \u201c_I did not answer; but I appeal to the heart\nof every mother who hears me_.\u201d A low murmur ran through the crowd. No\nmother raised her voice in loyal sympathy with the mother who appealed to\nthem, but the inarticulate response was too powerful for the jury; they\ndropped the subject, and when the counsel nominally appointed for her\ndefence had done speaking, the president demanded of the prisoner at the\nbar whether she had anything to add. There was a moment\u2019s hush, and then\nthe queen spoke: \u201cFor myself, nothing; for your consciences, much! I was\na queen, and you dethroned me; I was a wife, and you murdered my husband;\nI was a mother, and you have torn my children from me. I have nothing\nleft but my blood--make haste and take it!\u201d\n\nThis last request was granted. The trial ended soon after daybreak on\nthe third day, and at eleven o\u2019clock the same forenoon she was led to the\nscaffold.\n\nSeldom has retribution more marked ever followed a crime, than that which\nawaited the perpetrators of this legal murder. Within nine months from\nthe death of Marie Antoinette every single individual known to have had\nany share in the deed--judges, jury, witnesses, and prosecutors--all\nperished on the same guillotine to which they condemned the queen.\n\nThe captives in the Temple knew nothing either of the mock trial or the\ndeath which followed it. It is difficult to understand the motive of\nthis silence, especially as concerns Simon. Perhaps it was owing to his\nwife\u2019s influence that the young prince was spared the blow of knowing\nthat he was an orphan. If so, it was the only act of mercy she was able\nto obtain for him. The brutalities of the jailer rather increased than\ndiminished after the queen\u2019s death. The child was locked up alone in a\nroom almost entirely dark, and the gloom and solitude reduced him to\nsuch a point of despondency and apathy that few hearts, even amongst the\ncruel men about him, could behold the wretched spectacle unmoved. One\nof the municipals begged Simon\u2019s leave to give the poor child a little\nartificial canary bird, which sang a song and fluttered its wings. The\ntoy gave him such intense pleasure that the man good-naturedly followed\nup the opportunity of Simon\u2019s mild mood to bring a cage full of real\ncanaries, which he was likewise allowed to give the little Capet. The\nbirds were tamed to come on his finger and perch on his shoulder, and had\nother pretty tricks which amused and delighted the poor little fellow\ninexpressibly. He was very happy in the society of his feathered friends\nfor some time, until one unlucky day a new commissary came to inspect his\nroom, and, expressing great surprise at \u201cthe son of the tyrant\u201d being\nallowed such an aristocratic amusement, ordered the cage to be instantly\nremoved. Simon, to atone for this passing weakness towards the wolf-cub,\nset himself to maltreat him more savagely than ever. The child, in the\nmidst of the revolting atmosphere which surrounded him, still cherished\nthe memory of his mother\u2019s teaching; he remembered the prayers she had\ntaught him, the lessons of love and faith she had planted in his heart.\nSimon had flogged him the first time he saw him go down on his knees to\nsay his prayers, so the child ever after went to bed and got up without\nrepeating the offence. We may safely believe that he sent up his heart to\nGod morning and night, nevertheless, though he did not dare kneel while\ndoing so. One night, a bitter cold night in January, Simon awoke, and,\nby the light of the moon that stole in through the wooden blind of the\nwindow, beheld the boy kneeling up in his bed, his hands clasped and his\nface uplifted in prayer. He doubted at first whether the child was awake\nor asleep; but the attitude and all that it suggested threw him into a\nfrenzy of superstitious rage; he took up a large pitcher of water, icy\ncold as it was, and flung it, pitcher and all, at the culprit, exclaiming\nas he did so, \u201cI\u2019ll teach you to get up Pater-nostering at night like\na Trappist!\u201d Not satisfied with this, he seized his own shoe--a heavy\nwooden shoe with great nails--and fell to beating him with it, until\nMme Simon, terrified by his violence and sickened by the cries of the\nvictim, rushed at her husband, and made him desist. Louis, sobbing and\nshivering, gathered himself up out of the wet bed, and sat crouching on\nthe pillow; but Simon pulled him down, and made him lie in the soaking\nclothes, perishing and drenched as he was. The shock was so great that he\nnever was the same after this night; it utterly broke the little spirit\nthat yet remained in him, and gave a blow to his health which it never\nrecovered.\n\nTO BE CONCLUDED NEXT MONTH.\n\n\nSPRING.\n\n    The spring-time has come,\n      But with skies dark and gray\n    And the wind waileth wildly\n      Through all the drear day.\n    Few glimpses of sunshine,\n      No thought of the flowers,\n    No bird\u2019s songs enliven\n      These chill, gloomy hours.\n\n    The snow lieth coldly\n      Where lately it fell,\n    The crocus and daisy\n      Yet sleep in the dell;\n    The frost yet at evening\n      Falls softly and chill,\n    And scatters his pearls\n      Over meadow and hill.\n\n    But April, sweet April--\n      Her tears bring no gloom--\n    Will pour on the zephyr\n      A violet perfume;\n    Will bid the rill glance\n      In the sunlight along,\n    And waken at morning\n      The bird\u2019s gushing song.\n\n    I am thinking of one\n      Who oft sought for the flowers\n    In the sunlight and shadow\n      Of April\u2019s bright hours.\n    But when winter\u2019s bleak winds\n      Sang a dirge for the year,\n    With pale lips, yet smiling,\n      She lay on her bier.\n\n    The flowers then that died\n      Will awaken again,\n    But her we have loved\n      We shall look for in vain;\n    Yet, though we have laid her\n      Beneath the dark sod,\n    She bloometh this spring\n      In the garden of God.\n\n\nSUBSTANTIAL GENERATIONS.\n\nI.\n\nWe have shown that the intrinsic principles of the primitive material\nsubstance are _the matter_ and _the substantial form_; and we have proved\nthat in the material element the matter is a mere mathematical point--the\ncentre of a virtual sphere--whilst the substantial form which gives\nexistence to such a centre is an act, or an active principle, having a\nspherical character, and constituting a sphere of power all around that\ncentre, as shown by its exertions directed all around in accordance with\nthe Newtonian law. Hence the nature of the matter as actuated by its\nsubstantial form, and the nature of the substantial form as terminated to\nits matter, are fully determined.\n\nIt would seem that nothing remains to be investigated about this subject;\nfor, when we have reached the _first_ constituent principles of a\ngiven essence, the metaphysical analysis is at an end. One question,\nhowever, remains to be settled between us and the philosophers of the\nAristotelic school concerning the _mutual relation_ of the matter and\nthe substantial form in a material being. Is such a relation variable or\ninvariable? Is the matter separable from any given substantial form, as\nthe Aristotelic theory assumes, or are the matter and its form so bound\ntogether as to form a unit substantially unchangeable? Can substantial\nforms be supplanted and superseded by other substantial forms, or do they\ncontinue for ever as they were at the instant of their creation?\n\nSome of our readers may think that what we have said in other preceding\narticles suffices to settle the question; for it is obvious that simple\nmaterial elements are substantially unchangeable. But the peripatetic\nschool looked at things from a different point of view, and thought that\nthe question was to be solved by the consideration of the potentiality\nof the _first matter_ with respect to all substantial forms. Hence it is\nunder this aspect that their opinion is to be examined, that a correct\njudgment may be formed of the merits and deficiencies of a system so\nlong advocated by the most celebrated philosophers. For this reason, as\nalso because some modern writers have resuscitated this system without\ntaking notice of its defects, and without making such corrections as\nwere required to make it agree with the positive sciences, we think it\nnecessary to examine the notions on which the whole Aristotelic theory is\nestablished, and the reasonings by which it is supported, and to point\nout the inaccuracies by which some of those reasonings are spoiled, as\nwell as the limits within which the conclusions of the school can be\nmaintained.\n\n_Materia prima._--The notion of \u201cfirst matter,\u201d which plays the principal\npart in the theory of substantial generations, has been the source of\nmany disputes among philosophers. Some, as Suarez, think that the\n_materia prima_ is metaphysically constituted of act and potency; others\nconsider the _materia prima_ as a real potency only; whilst others\nconsider it as a mere potency of being, and therefore as a non-entity.\nThe word \u201cmatter\u201d can, in fact, be used in three different senses.\n\nFirst, it is used for _material substance_, either compound or simple;\nas when steel is said to be the matter of a sword, or when the primitive\nelements are said to be the matter of a body. When taken in this sense,\nthe word \u201cmatter\u201d means a _physical_ being, substantially perfect, and\ncapable of accidental modifications.\n\nSecondly, the word \u201cmatter\u201d is used for _the potential term lying under\nthe substantial form_ by which it is actuated. In this sense the matter\nis a _metaphysical_ reality which, by completing its substantial form,\nconcurs with it to the constitution of the physical being--that is, of\nthe substance. It is usually called _materia formata_, or \u201cformed matter.\u201d\n\nThirdly, the word \u201cmatter\u201d is used also for _the potential term of\nsubstance conceived as deprived of its substantial form_. In this sense\nthe matter is a mere potency of being, and therefore _a being of reason_;\nfor it cannot thus exist in the real order: and it is then called\n_materia informis_, or \u201cunformed matter.\u201d It is, however, to be remarked\nthat the phrase _materia informis_ has been used by the fathers of the\nchurch to designate the matter as it came out of the hands of the Creator\nbefore order, beauty, and harmony were introduced into the material\nworld. Such a matter was not absolutely without form, as is evident.\n\nOf the three opinions above mentioned about the nature of _materia\nprima_, the one maintained by Suarez is, in the present state of physical\nscience, the most satisfactory, though it can scarcely be said to agree\nwith the Aristotelic theory, as commonly understood. Indeed, if such a\nfirst matter is metaphysically constituted of act and potency, as he\nmaintains, such a matter is nothing less than a primitive substance,\nas he also maintains; and we may be allowed to add, on the strength\nof the proofs given in our preceding articles, that such a first\nmatter corresponds to our primitive unextended elements, which, though\nunknown to Suarez, are in fact the _first_ physical matter of which all\nnatural substances are composed. But, if the first matter involves a\nmetaphysical act and is a substance, such a matter cannot be the subject\nof _substantial_ generation; for what is already in act is not potential\nto the first act, and what has already a first being is not potential to\nthe first being. Hence we may conclude that the first matter of Suarez\nexcludes the theory of rigorously substantial generations, and leads to\nthe conclusion that the generated substances are not new with respect to\ntheir substance, but only with regard to their compound essence, and that\nthe forms by which they are constituted are indeed _essential_ to them,\nbut not strictly _substantial_, as we intend hereafter to explain.\n\nThe second interpretation of the words _materia prima_ is that given by\nS. Thomas, when he considers the first matter as \u201cmatter without form,\u201d\nand as a mere potency of being. \u201cThe matter,\u201d he says, \u201cexists sometimes\nunder one form, and at other times under another; but it can never exist\nisolated--that is, by itself--because, as it does not involve in its\nratio any form, it cannot be in act (for the form is the only source\nof actuality), but can merely be in potency. And therefore, _nothing\nwhich is in act can be called first matter_.\u201d[17] From these words it is\nevident that S. Thomas considers the first matter as matter without form;\nfor, had it a form, it would be in act, and would cease to be called\n\u201cfirst\u201d matter. In another place he says: \u201cSince the matter is a pure\npotency, it is _one_, not through any one form actuating it, but _by the\nexclusion of all forms_.\u201d[18] And again: \u201cThe accidental form supervenes\nto a subject already pre-existent in act; the substantial form, on the\ncontrary, does not supervene to a subject already pre-existent in act,\nbut _to something which is merely in potency to exist_, viz., _to the\nfirst matter_.\u201d[19] And again: \u201cThe true nature of matter is _to have\nno form whatever in act_, but to be in potency with regard to any of\nthem.\u201d[20] And again: \u201cThe first matter is a pure potency, just as God is\na pure act.\u201d[21]\n\nFrom these passages, and from many others that might be found in S.\nThomas\u2019 works, it is manifest that the holy doctor, in his metaphysical\nspeculations, considers the first matter as matter without a form.\nIn this he faithfully follows Aristotle\u2019s doctrine. For the Greek\nphilosopher explicitly teaches that \u201cas the metal is to the statue, or\nthe wood to the bedstead, or any other unformed material to the thing\nwhich can be formed with it, so is the matter to the substance and to the\nbeing\u201d;[22] that is, as the metal has not yet the form of a statue, so\nthe first matter still lacks the substantial form, and consequently is a\n_pure_ potency of being.\n\nNevertheless, the Angelic Doctor does not always abide by this old and\ngenuine notion of the first matter. When treating of generation and\ncorruption, or engaged in other physical questions, he freely assumes\nthat the first matter is something actually lying under a substantial\nform, and therefore that it is a _real_ potency in the order of nature,\nand not a mere result of intellectual abstraction. Thus he concedes that\n\u201cthe first matter exists in all bodies,\u201d[23] that \u201cthe first matter must\nhave been created by God under a substantial form,\u201d[24] and that \u201cthe\nfirst matter remains in act, after it has lost a certain form, owing to\nthe fact that it is actuated by another form.\u201d[25] In these passages and\nin many others the first matter is evidently considered as matter under a\nform.\n\nIt is difficult to reconcile with one another these two notions, matter\n_without a form_, and matter _under a form_; for they seem quite\ncontradictory. The only manner of attempting such a conciliation would\nbe to assume that when the first matter is said to be without a form,\nthe preposition \u201cwithout\u201d is intended to express a mental abstraction,\nnot a real exclusion, of the substantial form. Thus the phrase \u201cwithout\na form\u201d would mean \u201cwithout taking the form into account,\u201d although such\na form is really in the matter. This interpretation of the phrase might\nbe justified by those passages of the holy doctor in which the first\nmatter, inasmuch as _first_, is presented as a result of intellectual\nabstraction. Here is one of such passages: \u201cFirst matter,\u201d says he,\n\u201cis commonly called something, within the genus of substance which\nis _conceived_ as a potency abstracted from all forms and from all\nprivations, but susceptible both of forms and of privations.\u201d[26] It is\nevident that, by this kind of abstraction, the matter which is actually\nunder a form would be conceived as being without a form. As, however, the\nconception would not correspond to the reality, the first matter, thus\nconceived, would have nothing common with the real matter which exists in\nnature. For, since the whole reality of matter depends on its actuation\nby a form, to conceive the matter without any form is to take away from\nit the only source of its reality, and to leave nothing but a non-entity\nconnoting the privation of its form. Hence such a _materia prima_ would\nentirely belong to the order of conceptual beings, not to the order of\nrealities; and therefore the matter which exists in nature would not be\n\u201cfirst matter.\u201d It is superfluous to remark that if the first matter\ndoes not exist, as _first_, in the real order, all the reasonings of the\nperipatetic school about the offices performed by the first matter in the\nsubstantial generation are at an end.\n\nThe confusion of actuated with actuable matter was quite unavoidable in\nthe Aristotelic theory of substantial generations. This theory assumes\nthat not only the primitive elements of matter, but also every compound\nmaterial substance, has a special _substantial_ form giving the _first_\nbeing (_simpliciter esse_, or _primum esse_) to its matter. Hence, in\nthe substantial generation, as understood by Aristotle, the matter must\npass from one _first_ being to another _first_ being. Now, the authors\nwho adopted such a theory well saw that the matter which had to acquire\na first being, was to be considered as having no being at all; else it\nwould not acquire its _first_ being. On the other hand, the matter which\npassed from one first being to another was to be considered as having\na first being; or else it would not exchange it for another. Hence the\nfirst matter, as ready to acquire a first being, was called a _pure_\npotency--that is, a potency of being; whilst, as ready to exchange its\nfirst being for another, it was called a _real_ potency--that is, an\nactual reality. That a _pure_ potency can be a _real_ potency, or an\nactual reality, is an assumption which the peripatetic school never\nsucceeded in proving, though it is the very foundation of the theory of\nstrictly substantial generations as by them advocated.\n\nBefore we proceed further we have to mention S. Augustine\u2019s notion of\n_unformed_ matter, as one which contains a great deal more of truth\nthan is commonly believed by the peripatetic writers. This great doctor\nadmits that _unformed_ matter was created, and existed for a time in\nits informity. \u201cThe earth,\u201d says he, \u201cwas nothing but unformed matter;\nfor it was invisible and uncompounded, \u2026 and out of this invisible\nand uncompounded matter, out of this informity, out of this almost\nmere nothingness, thou wast to make, O God! all the things which this\nchangeable world contains.\u201d[27] Some will ask: How could such a great\nman admit the existence of matter without a form? Did he not know that a\npotency without an act cannot exist? Or is it to be suspected that what\nhe calls _unformed matter_ was not altogether destitute of a form, but\nonly of such a form as would make it visible as in the compound bodies?\n\nS. Thomas believes that S. Augustine really excluded all forms from his\nunformed matter, and remarks that such an unformed matter could not\npossibly exist in such a state; for, if it existed, it was in act as\na result of creation. For the term of creation is a being in act; and\nthe act is a form.[28] Thus it is evident that to admit the existence\nof the matter without any form at all is a very gross blunder. But,\nfor this very reason that the blunder is so great, we cannot believe\nthat S. Augustine made himself guilty of it. We rather believe that he\nmerely excluded from his unformed matter a visible shape, and what was\nafterward called \u201cthe form of corporeity\u201d by which compound substances\nare constituted in their species and distinguished from one another. Let\nus hear him.\n\n\u201cThere was a time,\u201d says he, \u201cwhen I used to call _unformed_, not that\nwhich I thought to be altogether destitute of a form, but that which\nI imagined to be ill-formed, and to have such an odd and ugly form as\nwould be shocking to see. But what I thus imagined was unformed, not\nabsolutely, but only in comparison with other things endowed with better\nforms; whilst reason and truth demanded that I should discard entirely\nall thought of any remaining form, if I wished to conceive matter as\ntruly unformed. But this I could not do; for it was easier to surmise\nthat a thing altogether deprived of form had no existence, than to admit\nanything intermediate between a formed being and nothing, which would be\nneither a formed being nor nothing, but an unformed being and almost a\nmere nothing. At last I dropped from my mind all those images of formed\nbodies, which my imagination was used to multiply and vary at random,\nand began to consider the bodies themselves, and their mutability on\naccount of which such bodies cease to be what they were, and begin to be\nwhat they were not. And I began to conjecture that their passage from\none form to another was made through something unformed, not through\nabsolute nothing. But this I desired to know, not to surmise. Now, were\nI to say all that thou, O God! hadst taught me about this subject, who\namong my readers would strive to grasp my thought? But I shall not cease\nto praise thee in my heart for those very things which I cannot expound.\nFor the mutability of changeable things is susceptible of all the forms\nby which such things can be changed. But what is such a mutability?\nIs it a soul? Is it a body? Is it the feature of a soul or of a body?\nWere it allowable, I would call it a _nothing-something_, and a _being\nnon-being_. And yet it was already in some manner before it received\nthese visible and compounded forms.\u201d[29]\n\nThe more we examine this passage, the stronger becomes our conviction\nthat the word \u201cform\u201d was used here by S. Augustine, not for the\nsubstantial form of Aristotle, but for _shape_ or geometric form, and\nthat \u201cunformed matter\u201d stands here for _shapeless matter_. For, when he\nsays that \u201creason and truth demand that all thought of any remaining\nforms should be discarded,\u201d of what remaining forms does he speak? Of\nthose \u201codd and ugly forms\u201d which he says would be shocking to see. But\nit is evident that no substantial form can be odd and ugly or shocking\nto see. Moreover, S. Augustine conceives his \u201cunformed matter,\u201d by\ndropping from his mind \u201call those images of formed bodies\u201d by which\nhis imagination had been previously haunted. Now, it is obvious that\nsubstantial forms are not an object of the imagination, nor can they be\nstyled \u201cimages\u201d of formed bodies. Lastly, the holy doctor explicitly\nsays that the matter of the bodies \u201cwas already in some manner before it\ncould receive _these visible and compounded forms_,\u201d which shows that the\nforms which he excluded from the primitive matter are \u201cthe visible and\ncompounded forms\u201d of bodies--that is, such forms as result from material\ncomposition. And this is confirmed by those other words of the holy\ndoctor, \u201cThe earth was nothing but unformed matter; _for it was invisible\nand uncompounded_\u201d--that is, the informity of the earth consisted in the\nabsence of material composition, and, therefore, of visible shape, not in\nthe absence of primitive substantial forms.\n\nIt would be interesting to know why S. Augustine believed that his\nreaders would not bear with him (_quis legentium capere durabit?_) if\nhe were to say all that God had taught him about shapeless matter. Had\nGod taught him the existence of simple and unextended elements? Was his\nshapeless matter that simple point, that invisible and uncompounded\npotency, on account of which all elements are liable to geometrical\narrangement and to physical composition? The holy doctor does not tell\nus; but certainly, if there ever was shapeless matter, it could have\nno extension, for extension entails shape. It would, therefore, seem\nthat S. Augustine\u2019s shapeless matter could not but consist of simple\nand unextended elements; and if so, he had good reason to expect that\nhis readers would scorn a notion so contrary to the popular bias; as\nwe see that even in our own time, and in the teeth of scientific and\nphilosophical evidence, the same notion cannot take hold of the popular\nmind.\n\nIf the unformed matter of S. Augustine is matter without shape and\nwithout extension, we can easily understand why he calls it _pene nullam\nrem_, viz., scarcely more than nothing.[30] Indeed, the potential term\nof a primitive element, a simple point in space, is scarcely more than\nnothing; for it has no bulk, and were it not for the act which gives it\nexistence, it would be nothing at all, as it has nothing in itself and in\nits potential nature which deserves the name of \u201cbeing\u201d; but it borrows\nall its being from the substantial act, as we shall explain later on.\nIt is, therefore, plain that the matter of a simple element, and of all\nsimple elements, is hardly more than nothing, and that it might almost\nbe described as a _nothing-something_, and a _being non-being_, as S.\nAugustine observes. But when the primitive matter began to cluster into\nbodies having bulk and composition, then this same matter acquired a\n_visible form_ under definite dimensions, and thus one mass of matter\nbecame distinguishable from another, and by the arrangement of such\ndistinct material things the order and beauty of the world were produced.\n\nThus S. Augustine did not admit the existence of matter deprived of a\nsubstantial form, but only the existence of matter without shape, and\ntherefore without extension. And for this reason we have said that his\ndoctrine contains more truth than is commonly believed by the peripatetic\nwriters. His _uncompounded_ matter can mean nothing else than simple\nelements; and since the components are the material cause of the\ncompound, and must be presupposed to it, the simple elements of which all\nbodies consist are undoubtedly those material beings which God must have\ncreated before anything having shape and material composition could make\nits appearance in the world. Hence S. Augustine\u2019s view of creation is,\nin this respect, perfectly consistent with sound philosophy no less than\nwith revelation. His shapeless matter must be ranked, we think, with the\nfirst matter of Suarez above mentioned, under the name of _primitive_\nmaterial substance.\n\nAs to the first matter of S. Thomas and of the other followers of\nAristotle, it is difficult to say what it is; for we have seen that\nit has been understood in two different manners. If we adopt its most\nreceived definition, we must call it \u201ca pure potency\u201d and \u201ca first\npotency.\u201d According to this definition, the first matter is a non-entity,\nas we have already remarked, and has no part in the constitution of\nsubstance, any more than a corpse in the constitution of man; for, as the\nbody of man is not _a living corpse_, so the matter in material substance\nis not _a pure potency in act_, both expressions implying a like\ncontradiction. Hence the first matter, according to this definition,\nis not a metaphysical being, but a mere being of reason--that is, a\nconception of nothingness as resulting from the suppression of the formal\nprinciple of being.\n\nFrom our notion of simple elements we can form a very clear image of\nthis being of reason. In a primitive element the matter borrows all its\nreality from the substantial form of which it is the intrinsic term--that\nis, from a virtual sphericity of which it is the centre. To change such\na centre into a _pure_ potency of being, we have merely to suppress\nthe virtual sphericity; for, by so doing, what was a _real_ centre of\npower becomes an _imaginary_ centre, a term deprived of its reality, a\nmere nothing; which however, from the nature of the process by which\nit is reached, is still conceived as the vestige of the real centre of\npower, and, so to say, the shadow of the real matter which disappears.\nThus the _materia prima_, as a pure potency, is nothing else than an\nimaginary point in space, or the potency of a real centre of power. This\nclear and definite conception of the first matter is calculated to shed\nsome additional light on many questions connected with the peripatetic\nphilosophy, and, above all, on the very definition of matter. The old\nmetaphysicians, when defining the first matter to be \u201ca pure potency,\u201d\nhad no notion of the existence of simple elements, and knew very little\nabout the law of material actions; and for this reason they could say\nnothing about the special character of such a pure potency. For the\nsame reason they were unable also to point out the special nature of\nthe first act of matter; they simply recognized that the conspiration\nof such a potency with such an act ought to give rise to a \u201cmovable\nbeing.\u201d But potency and act are to be found not only in material, but\nalso in spiritual, substances; and as these substances are of a quite\ndifferent nature, it is evident that their respective potencies and their\nrespective acts must be of a quite different nature. Now, the special\ncharacter of the potency of material substance consists in its being a\n_local_ term, whilst the special character of the potency of spiritual\nsubstance consists in its being an _intellectual_ term. And therefore, to\ndistinguish the former from the latter, we should say that the matter is\n\u201ca potential term _in space_\u201d and the first matter \u201ca potency of being in\nspace.\u201d The additional words \u201c_in space_\u201d point out the characteristic\nattribute of the material potency as distinguished from all other\npotencies.\n\nMoreover, our conception of _materia prima_ as an imaginary point in\nspace may help us to realize more completely the distinction which\nmust be made between the non-entity of the first matter and absolute\nnothingness. Absolute nothingness is a mere negation of being, or a\n_negative_ non-entity; whereas the non-entity of the first matter is\nformally constituted by a privation, and must be styled a _privative_\nnon-entity. For, as the matter and its substantial form are the\nconstituents of one and the same primitive essence, we cannot think\nof the matter without reference to the form, nor of the form without\nreference to the matter. And therefore, when, in order to conceive the\nfirst matter, we suppress mentally the substantial form, we deprive\nthe matter of what it essentially requires for its existence; and it\nis in consequence of such a process that we reduce the matter to a\nnon-entity. Now, to exclude from the matter the form which is due\nto it is to constitute the matter under a privation. Therefore the\nresulting non-entity of the first matter is a privative non-entity.\nIndeed, privation is defined as \u201cthe absence of something due _to a\nsubject_,\u201d and we can scarcely say that a non-entity is a subject. But\nthis definition applies to _real_ privations only, which require a\n_real_ subject lacking something due to it; as when a man has lost an\neye or a foot. But in our case, as we are concerned with a pure potency\nof being, which has no reality at all, our subject can be nothing else\nthan a non-entity. This is the subject which demands the form of which\nit is bereaved, as it cannot even be conceived without reference to it.\nThe very name of _matter_, which it retains, points out a _form_ as its\ntranscendental correlative; while the epithet \u201cfirst\u201d points out the fact\nthat this matter is yet destitute of that being which it should have in\norder to deserve the name of _real_ matter.\n\nBut, much as this notion of the first matter agrees with that of \u201cpure\npotency\u201d and of \u201cfirst potency,\u201d the followers of the peripatetic system\nwill say that _their_ first matter is something quite different, as is\nevident from their theory of substantial generations, which would have\nno meaning, if the first matter were not a reality. Let us, then, waive\nfor the present the notion of \u201c_pure_ potency,\u201d and turn our attention to\nthat of \u201c_real_ potency,\u201d that we may see what kind of reality the first\nmatter must be, when the \u201cfirst matter\u201d is identified with the matter\nactually existing under a substantial form.\n\nThe matter actuated by a form is a _real potency_, and nothing more.\nIt is only by stretching the word \u201cbeing\u201d beyond its legitimate meaning\nthat this real potency is sometimes called a real being. In fact, the\npotential term of the real being is real, not on account of any real\nentity involved in its own nature, but merely on account of the real act\nby which it is actuated. How anything can be real without possessing\nan entity of its own our reader may easily understand by recollecting\nwhat we have often remarked about the centre of a sphere, whose reality\nis entirely due to the spherical form, or by reflecting that negations\nand privations are similarly called _real_, not because of any entity\ninvolved in them, but simply because they are appurtenances of real\nbeings.\n\nWe have seen that S. Augustine would fain have called the primitive\nmatter a _nothing-something_ and a _being non-being_, if such phrases\nhad been allowable. His thought was deep, but he could not find words to\nexpress it thoroughly. Our \u201creal potency\u201d is that \u201cnothing-something\u201d\nwhich was in the mind of the holy doctor. S. Thomas gives us a clew to\nthe explanation of such a \u201cnothing-something\u201d by remarking that _to be_\nand _to have being_ are not precisely the same thing. _To be_ is the\nattribute of a complete act, whilst _to have being_ is the attribute\nof a potency actuated by its act. That is said _to be_ which contains\nin itself the formal reason of its being; whilst that is said _to have\nbeing_ which does not contain in itself the formal reason of its being,\nbut receives its being from without, and puts it on as a borrowed\ngarment. Of course, God alone can be said _to be_ in the fullest meaning\nof the term, as he alone contains in himself the _adequate_ reason of\nhis being; yet all created essence can be said _to be_, inasmuch as it\ncontains in itself the _formal_ reason of its being--that is, an act\ngiving existence to a potency; whereas the potency itself can be said\nmerely _to have being_, because _being_ is not included in the nature of\npotency, but must come to it from a distinct source. And therefore, as\na thing colored _has_ color, but _is not_ color, and as a body animated\n_has_ life, but _is not_ life, so the matter actuated by its form _has_\nbeing, but _is not_ a being.\n\nSome philosophers, who failed to take notice of this distinction,\nmaintained that the matter which exists under a substantial form is\nan _incomplete being_, and an _incomplete substance_. The expression\nis not correct. For, if the matter which lies under the substantial\nform were an incomplete being, it would be the office of the form to\ncomplete it. Now, the substantial form can have no such office; for the\nform always inchoates what the matter completes. It is always the term\nthat completes the act, whilst the act actuates the term by giving it\nthe first being. Hence the matter which lies under its substantial form\nis not an incomplete entity. Nor is it an entity destined to complete\nthe form; for, if the term which completes a form were a being, such a\nterm would be a real subject, and thus the form terminated to it would\nnot be strictly substantial, as it would not give it the first being.\nMoreover, the matter and the substantial form constitute _one_ primitive\nessence, in which it is impossible to admit a multiplicity of entitative\nconstituents; and therefore, since the substantial form, which is a\nformal source of being, is evidently an entitative constituent, it\nfollows that the matter lying under it has no entity of its own, but is\nmerely clothed with the entity of its form.\n\nBut, true though it is that the matter lying under a substantial form has\nno entity of its own, it is, however, a _real_ term, as we have already\nintimated; hence it may be called a _reality_. And since _reality_\nand _entity_ are commonly used as synonymous, we may admit that the\nformed matter is an entity, adjectively, not substantively, just as we\nadmit that ivory is _a sphere_ when it lies under a spherical form.\nNevertheless the ivory, to speak more properly, should be said _to have\nsphericity_ rather than _to be a sphere_; for, though it is the subject\nof sphericity, it is not spherical of its own nature. In the same manner,\na body vivified by a soul is called _living_; but, properly speaking, it\nshould be styled _having life_, because life is not a property of the\nbody as such, but it springs from the presence of the soul in the body.\nThe like is to be said of the being of the matter as actuated by the\nsubstantial form. It is from the form alone that such a matter has its\nfirst being; and therefore such a matter has only a borrowed being, and\nis a _real potency_, not a real entity. Such is, we believe, the true\ninterpretation of S. Augustine\u2019s phrase: \u201cnothing-something\u201d and \u201cbeing\nnon-being\u201d--_Nihil aliquid, et est non est_.\n\nNor is it strange that the matter should be _a reality_ without being\n_an entity_, properly so called; for the like happens with all the real\nterms of contingent things. Thus the real term of a line (the point)\nis no linear entity, though it certainly belongs to the line, and is\nsomething real in the line; the real term of time (the present instant,\nor the _now_) is no temporal entity, as it has no extension, though it\ncertainly belongs to time, and is something real in time; the real term\nof a body (the simple element) is no bodily entity, as it has no bulk,\nthough it certainly belongs to the body, and is something real in it;\nthe real term of a circle (the centre) is no circular entity, though\nit certainly belongs to the circle, and is something real in it. And\nin like manner the real term of a primitive contingent substance (its\npotency) is no substantial entity, though it evidently belongs to the\ncontingent substance, and is something real in it. In God alone, whose\nbeing excludes contingency, the substantial term (the Word) stands forth\nas a true entity--a most perfect and infinite entity--for, as the term\nof the divine generation is not educed out of nothing, it is absolutely\nfree from all potentiality, and is in eternal possession of infinite\nactuality. Hence it is that God alone, as we have above remarked, can be\nsaid _to be_ in the fullest meaning of the term.\n\nAs the best authors agree that the matter which is under a substantial\nform is no being, but only \u201ca real potency,\u201d we will dispense with\nfurther considerations on this special point. What we have said suffices\nto give our readers an idea of the _materia prima_ of the ancients, and\nof the different manners in which it has been understood.\n\n_Substantial form._--Coming now to the notion of the substantial form\nthe first thing which deserves special notice is the fact that the\nphrase \u201csubstantial form\u201d can be interpreted in two manners, owing to\nthe double meaning attached to the epithet \u201csubstantial.\u201d All the forms\nwhich supervene to a specific nature already constituted have been called\n\u201caccidental,\u201d and all the forms which enter into the constitution of\na specific nature have been called \u201csubstantial.\u201d But as the accident\ncan be contrasted with the _essence_ no less than with the _substance_\nof a thing, so the substantial form can be defined either as that which\ngives the first being to a certain _essence_, or as that which gives the\nfirst being to a _substance_ as such. The schoolmen, in fact, left us\ntwo definitions of their substantial forms, of which the first is: \u201cThe\nsubstantial form is that which gives the first being to the matter\u201d; the\nsecond is: \u201cThe substantial form is that which gives the first being to\na thing.\u201d The first definition belongs to the form strictly substantial,\nfor the result of the first actuation of matter is a primitive substance;\nwhereas the second has a much wider range, because all things which\ninvolve material composition, in their specific nature, receive the\nfirst specific being by a form which needs not give the first existence\nto their material components, and which, therefore, is not strictly\na substantial form. Thus a molecule of oxygen, because it contains a\ndefinite number of primitive elements, cannot be formally constituted\nin its specific nature, except by a specific composition; and such a\ncomposition is an essential, though not a truly substantial, form of the\ncompound, as we shall more fully explain in another article.\n\nThe strictly substantial form contains in itself the whole reason of\nthe being of the substance; for the matter which completes it does\nnot contribute to the constitution of the substance, except as a mere\nterm--that is, by simply receiving existence, and therefore without\nadding any new entity to the entity of the form. Whence it follows that\nthe form itself contains the whole reason of the resulting essence.\n\u201cAlthough the essence of a being,\u201d says S. Thomas, \u201cis neither the form\nalone nor the matter alone, yet the form alone is, in its own manner, the\ncause of such an essence.\u201d[31] It cannot, however, be inferred from this\nthat the strictly substantial form is a _physical_ being. Physical beings\nhave a complete essence and an existence of their own; which is not the\ncase with any material form. \u201cEven the forms themselves,\u201d according to\nS. Thomas, \u201chave no being; it is only the compounds (of matter and form)\nthat have being through them.\u201d[32] And again: \u201cThe substantial form\nitself has no complete essence; for in the definition of the substantial\nform it is necessary to include that of which it is the form.\u201d[33] It\nis plain that a being which has no complete essence and no possibility\nof a separate existence cannot be styled a physical being, but only a\nmetaphysical constituent of the physical being.\n\nThe schoolmen teach that the substantial forms of bodies _are educed out\nof the potency of matter_. This proposition is true. For the so-called\n\u201csubstantial\u201d forms of bodies are not strictly substantial, but only\nessential or natural forms, as they give the first existence, not to\nthe matter of which the bodies are composed, but only to the bodies\nthemselves. Now, all bodies are material compounds of a certain species,\nand therefore involve distinct material terms bound together by a\nspecific form of composition, without which such a specific compound can\nhave no existence. The specific form of composition is therefore the\nessential form of a body of a given species; and such is the form that\ngives _the first being_ to the body. To say that such a form is educed\nout of the potency of matter is to state an obvious truth, as it is known\nthat the composition of bodies is brought about by the mutual action of\nthe elements of which the bodies are constituted, which action proceeds\nfrom the _active_ potency, and actuates the _passive_ potency of the\nmatter of the body, as we shall explain more fully in the sequel.\n\nBut the old natural philosophers, who had no notion of primitive\nunextended elements, when affirming the eduction of substantial forms out\nof the potency of matter, took for granted that such forms were strictly\nsubstantial, and gave the first being not only to the body, but also\nto the matter itself of which the body was composed. In this they were\nmistaken; but the mistake was excusable, as chemistry had not yet shown\nthe law of definite proportions in the combination of different bodies,\nnor had the spectroscope revealed the fact that the primitive molecules\nof all bodies are composed of free elementary substances vibrating around\na common centre, and remaining substantially identical amid all the\nchanges produced by natural causes in the material world. Nevertheless,\nhad they not been biassed by the _Ipse dixit_, the peripatetics would\nhave found that, though accidental forms, and many essential forms too,\nare educed out of the potency of matter, yet the strictly substantial\nforms cannot be so educed.\n\nThe matter may be conceived either as formed or as unformed. If it is\nformed, it is already in possession of its substantial form and of its\nfirst being, which it never loses, as we shall prove hereafter. Therefore\nsuch a matter is not in potency with regard to its first being; and thus\nno strictly substantial form can be educed from the potency of the formed\nmatter. If, on the contrary, the matter is yet unformed, it is plain\nthat such a matter cannot be acted on by natural agents; for it has no\nexistence in the order of things, and therefore it cannot be the subject\nof natural actions. How, then, can it receive the first being? Owing to\nthe impossibility of explaining how the unformed matter could be actuated\nby natural agents, those who admitted the eduction of substantial forms\nout of the potency of matter were constrained to assume that the _first_\nmatter had some reality of its own, and consisted intrinsically, as\nSuarez teaches, of act and potency. But, though it is true that the\nmatter must have some reality in order to receive from natural agents\na new form, it is evident that such a new form cannot be strictly\nsubstantial; for it cannot give the first being to a matter already\nendowed with being. Hence no strictly substantial form can be naturally\neduced out of the potency of matter.\n\nIf, then, a truly substantial form could in any sense be educed out of\nthe potency of matter, such an eduction should be made, not by natural\ncauses, but by God himself in the act of creation; for no agent, except\nGod, can bring matter into existence. But we think that even in this case\nit would be incorrect to say that the substantial form is educed out\nof the potency of matter. For, although the unformed matter, and the\nnothingness out of which things are educed by creation, admit of no real\ndifference, yet the unformed matter, as a privative non-entity, involves\na formality of reason, which absolute nothingness does not involve; and\nhence to substitute the unformed matter for absolute nothingness as the\nextrinsic term of creation, is to present the fact of creation under a\nfalse formality. God creates a substance, not by educing its _form_ out\nof a privative non-entity--that is, out of an abstraction--but by educing\nthe _substance_ itself out of nothingness. And for this reason it would\nbe quite incorrect to call creation an eduction of a substantial form out\nof the potency of matter.\n\nThere is yet another reason why creation should not be so explained. For\nthe philosophers who admit the eduction of substantial forms out of the\npotency of matter, assume, either explicitly or implicitly, that such\na potency is _real_, though they often call it \u201ca pure potency,\u201d as we\nhave stated. Their matter is therefore a _real_ subject of substantial\ngenerations. Now, it is obvious that creation neither presupposes nor\nadmits a previous real subject. Hence, to say that creation is the\neduction of a substantial form out of the potency of matter, would be to\nemploy a very mischievous phrase, with nothing to justify it, even if no\nother objection could be raised against its use.\n\nWe conclude that strictly substantial forms are never educed out of the\npotency of matter, but are simply educed out of nothing in creation. As,\nhowever, every such form gives being to its matter, without which it\ncannot exist, we commonly say that the whole substance, and not its form\nas such, is educed out of nothing. S. Thomas says: \u201cThe term of creation\nis a being in act; and its act is its form\u201d[34]--the form, evidently,\nwhich gives the first being to the matter, and which is therefore truly\nand properly substantial. Hence, before the position of this act, nothing\nexists in nature which can be styled \u201cmatter,\u201d whilst at the position\nof this act, and by virtue of it, the material substance itself is\ninstantly brought into existence. Accordingly, the position of an act\nwhich formally gives existence to its term is the very eduction of the\nsubstance out of nothing; and the strictly substantial form is educed out\nof nothing in the very creation of the substance, whereas the matter, at\nthe mere position of such a form, and through it immediately, acquires\nits first existence. The matter, as the reader may recollect, is to its\nform what the centre of a sphere is to the spherical form. Hence, as the\ncentre acquires its being by the mere position of a spherical form, so\nthe matter acquires its being by the mere position of the substantial\nform, without the concurrence of any other causality.\n\nThis last conclusion may give rise to an objection, which we cannot leave\nwithout an answer. The objection is the following: If the matter receives\nits first being through the substantial form alone, it follows that God\ndid not create the matter, but only the form itself.\n\nWe answer that when we speak of the creation of matter, the word \u201cmatter\u201d\nmeans \u201cmaterial substance.\u201d For the term of creation, as we have just\nremarked with S. Thomas, is _the being in act_--that is, the complete\nbeing, as it physically exists in the order of nature. Now, such a being\nis the substance itself. On the other hand, to create _the being in act_\nis to produce _the act_ which is the formal reason of the being; and\nsince the position of the act entails the existence of a potential term,\nit is evident that God, by producing the act, causes the existence of the\npotential term. But as this term is not a \u201creal being,\u201d but only a \u201creal\npotency,\u201d and as its reality is merely \u201cborrowed\u201d from the substantial\nform, it has nothing in itself which requires making, and therefore it\ncannot be the term of a special creation.\n\nThe old philosophers, who admitted the separability of the matter from\nits substantial form, and who were for this reason obliged to grant to\nsuch a matter an imperfect being, were wont to say that the matter was\n_con-created_ with the form, and thus they seem to have conceived the\ncreation of a primitive material substance as including two partial\ncreations. But, as a primitive being includes but _one_ act, it cannot be\nthe term of _two_ actions; for two actions imply two acts. On the other\nhand, the matter which is under the substantial act has no entity of its\nown, as we have shown to be the true and common doctrine, and therefore\nhas no need of a special effection, but only of a formal actuation. Hence\nthe creation of a primitive material substance does not consist of two\npartial creations. We may, however, adopt the term \u201c_con-created_\u201d to\nexpress the fact that the position of the act entails the reality of the\npotential term, just as the position of sphericity entails the existence\nof a centre.\n\nThe preceding remarks have been made with the object of preparing the\nsolution of a difficulty concerning the creation of matter. For matter\nis potential, whilst God is a pure act without potency; but a pure\nact without potency cannot produce anything potential, since it does\nnot contain in itself any potentiality nor anything equivalent to it.\nTherefore the origin of matter cannot be accounted for by creation.\n\nThe answer to this difficulty is as follows: We grant that the matter, as\ndistinguished from the form which gives it the first being, and therefore\nas a potential term of the primitive substance, cannot be created, for\nit is no being at all, but only a potency of being; and yet it does not\nfollow that the material substance itself cannot be created. Of course\nGod does not contain in himself, either formally or eminently, the\npotentiality of his own creatures, but he eminently contains in himself\nand can produce out of himself an endless multitude of acts giving\nexistence to as many potential terms. And thus God, by producing any such\nact, causes the existence of its correspondent potency, which is not\nefficiently made, but only formally actuated, as has been just explained.\nCreation is an action, and action is the production of an act; hence\n\u201cthe term of creation is _a being in act_, and this act is the form,\u201d as\nSt. Thomas teaches; the matter, on the contrary, or the potency of the\ncreated being, is a term coming out of nothingness by formal actuation,\nand consequently having no being of its own, but owing whatever existence\nit has to the act or form of which it is the term; so that, if God ceased\nto conserve such an act, the term would instantly vanish altogether\nwithout need of a special annihilation. Nothingness is the source of all\npotentiality and imperfection, as God is the source of all actuality and\nperfection. Hence even the spiritual creatures, in which there is no\nmatter, are essentially potential, inasmuch as they, too, have come out\nof nothing. This suffices to show that God, though containing in himself\nno formal and no virtual potentiality, can create a substance essentially\nconstituted of act and potency. For we have seen that, to create such a\nsubstance, God needs only to produce an act _ad extra_, and that such an\nact contains in itself the formal reason of its proportionate potency;\nbecause \u201calthough the essence of a being is neither the form alone nor\nthe matter alone, yet the form alone is in its own manner (that is, by\nformal principiation) the cause of such an essence.\u201d\n\nAnd let this suffice respecting the general notions of first matter and\nsubstantial form.\n\nTO BE CONTINUED.\n\n\nTHE LEADER OF THE CENTRUM IN THE GERMAN REICHSTAG.\n\nThe Catholics of Germany have suffered a great loss in the death of\nHerman von Mallinkrodt, deputy to the Reichstag. Germany now realizes\nwhat he was, and it is indeed a pleasure for us to honor in this\nperiodical the memory of this extraordinary man by giving a short sketch\nof his life.\n\nHerman von Mallinkrodt was born in Minden (Westphalia), on the 5th of\nFebruary, 1821. His father, who was of noble birth and a Prussian officer\nof state, was a Protestant; his mother, _n\u00e9e_ Von Hartman, of Paderborn,\nwas an excellent Catholic. All the children of this marriage were\nbaptized Catholics--which is very seldom the case in mixed marriages--and\nwere filled with the true Catholic spirit.\n\nLike Herman, so also did his brother and sister, who were older than he,\ndistinguish themselves by their decidedly Catholic qualities. George,\nwho had become the possessor of the old convent of Boeddekken, founded\nin the year 837 by S. Meinulph, cherished a special devotion towards\nthis the first saint of Paderborn, and rebuilt the chapel, destroyed in\nthe beginning of this century by the Prussian government. This chapel is\ngreatly esteemed as a perfect specimen of Gothic architecture, and is\nnow held in high honor, as being the final resting-place of Herman von\nMallinkrodt. His sister, Pauline, the foundress and mother-general of the\nsisterhood of \u201cChristian Love,\u201d has become celebrated by the success she\nhas achieved in the education of girls. (The principal teacher of Pauline\nwas the noble convert and celebrated poetess, Louisa Aloysia Hensel, in\nwhose verses, according to the criticism of the Protestant historian\nBarthel, more tender and Christian sentiments are expressed than are\nto be found in any German production of modern times.) These excellent\nSisters were also expelled, as being dangerous to the state, and sought\nas well as found a new field of usefulness in America, the land of\nfreedom.\n\nThe true Catholic discipline of these three children they owe to the\ncareful training of their mother and the pure Catholic atmosphere of\nAix-la-Chapelle, to which city their father was sent as vice-president\nof the government. Herman followed the profession of his father, and\nstudied jurisprudence. The interest felt by the young jurist in whatever\nconcerned the church is seen in the following incident, which had an\nimportant influence on his whole life: When the time had arrived for him\nto pass his state examination, he retired to the quiet of Boeddekken.\nFrom different themes he selected the one treating on the judicial\nrelations between church and state. Not being satisfied with the view\ntaken by certain authors, he endeavored to arrive at a knowledge of the\nmatter by personal investigation, and after fourteen months of close\napplication he succeeded in establishing a system which proved itself on\nall sides tenable and in harmony with the writings of the old canonists\nof the church. The person to whose judgment the production was submitted\ndeclared that the treatise, although excellent, was too strongly in\nfavor of the church, but that the author had permission to publish it,\nwhich, however, was not done. Herman, nevertheless, as he afterwards told\none of his friends, had never to retract one of the principles he then\nmaintained; he had only to let them develop themselves more fully. As he\nin his youth did not rest until he had become perfect master of any theme\nhe had to discuss, so also did he never in afterlife ascend the tribune,\nupon which he won imperishable honors, until he had digested the whole\nmatter in his mind. We make no mention of the positions which Mallinkrodt\noccupied as the servant of the state. It is well known that his strong\nCatholic sentiments were for the Prussian government an insurmountable\nobjection to his being elevated to a post corresponding with his eminent\nability, until he, as counsellor of the government at Merseburg, left the\nungrateful service of the state. It was, however, his good fortune to\napply the talents which Almighty God had given him in so full a measure,\nto his parliamentary duties for eighteen years, from 1852 to 1874, the\nshort interruption from 1864 to 1868 excepted.\n\nIn his life his friends recognized his merits, and in his death even his\nenemies confessed that a great man had passed away.\n\nThis prominent leader Almighty God has taken from us in a sudden and\nunexpected manner. The last Prussian Diet, at whose session he was\nmore conspicuous than ever before, had adjourned, and in paying his\nfarewell visits before his return to his home in Nord-Borchen, where\nhe possessed a family mansion, he contracted a cold, which finally\ndeveloped itself into an inflammation of the lungs and of the membrane\ncovering the thorax. On the fifth day of his sickness the man who, by his\nindefatigable public labors and the grief he felt for the afflictions\nundergone by the church, had worn out his life, passed to his eternal\nreward, on the 26th of May, in the 53d year of his age. He had married\nThecla, _n\u00e9e_ Von Bernhard, a step-sister of his first wife, several\nmonths before his death, and she was present when he died. Placing one\nhand in hers, he embraced with the other the cross, which in life he had\nalways venerated and chosen as his standard.\n\nNo pen can describe the heartfelt anguish which the Catholic people\nof Germany felt at their loss. At the funeral services in Berlin the\ndistinguished members of all parties were present. The government alone\nfailed to acknowledge the merit of one who had so long been an eminent\nleader in the Reichstag. Paderborn, to which city the body was conveyed,\nhas never witnessed such a grand funeral procession as that of Von\nMallinkrodt. From thence to Boeddekken, a distance of nine miles, one\ncongregation after the other formed the honorary escort, not counting\nthe crowd of mourners who had gathered together at Boeddekken, where the\ndeceased was to be buried in the chapel of S. Meinulph. A large number\nof members of the Centrum party, nearly all the nobility of Westphalia,\nwere here assembled, and many cities of Germany sent deputies, who\ndeposited laurel wreaths upon the coffin. It was an imposing sight\nwhen his Excellency Dr. Windthorst approached the open grave to strew,\nas the last service of love, some blessed earth upon the remains of his\ndear friend, the tears streaming meanwhile from his eyes. During the\nfuneral services the bells of the Cathedral of M\u00fcnster tolled solemnly\nfor two hours, summoning Catholics from the different districts to attend\nthe High Mass of Requiem for the beloved dead; so that the words of\nthe Holy Scriptures applied to the hero of the Machabees can be truly\napplied also to Von Mallinkrodt: \u201cAnd all the people \u2026 bewailed him\nwith great lamentation\u201d (1 Machabees ix. 20). It is a remarkable fact\nthat even his opponents, who during his lifetime attacked him with all\nmanner of weapons, could not but bestow the most unqualified praises\nupon him in death. It would seem that the eloquence of Von Mallinkrodt\nduring his latter years had been all in vain; for although every seat\nwas filled as soon as he ascended the tribune to speak, and he was\nlistened to with profound attention, yet he exercised no influence upon\nthe votes, for the reason that they had previously been determined\nupon. No one was found who could reply to his forcible arguments, for\nthey were unanswerable. Not only his graceful oratory, but the very\nappearance of a man so true to his convictions, had its effect even upon\nhis opponents. It will not be out of place for us to give a few of the\ntributes paid to his memory by those who differed from him in politics.\nEven in Berlin, where titles are so plentiful, the general sentiment was\none of sorrow. \u201cWith respectful sympathy,\u201d writes the _Spener Gazette_,\n\u201cwe have to announce the unexpected death of a man distinguished not\nonly for talent, but for integrity--Herman von Mallinkrodt, deputy to\nthe Reichstag. He was sincerely convinced of the justice of the cause\nhe espoused. Greater praise we cannot bestow upon a friend, nor can we\nrefrain from acknowledging that our late adversary always acted from\nprinciple.\u201d \u201cVon Mallinkrodt,\u201d says the correspondent of the Berlin\n_Progress_, \u201cstood in the first rank when there was question regarding\nthe policy of the government against the church; no other orator, not\nonly of his own party, but even of the opposition, could compare with him\nin logical reasoning or in rhetorical skill. His speeches give evident\nproof of the rare combination of truth and ability to be found in this\ngreat man.\u201d The fault-finding Elberfelder _Gazette_ testifies as follows\nto the eloquence of our deputy: \u201cWho that has listened to even one of\nVon Mallinkrodt\u2019s speeches can ever forget the fascinating eloquence or\nthe picturesque appearance of the orator--reminding one of the Duke of\nAlba, by the perfect dignity of his manner and the classic form of his\ndiscourse?\u201d The Magdeburg correspondent almost goes further when he says:\n\u201cHe served his party with such disinterestedness, and was so indifferent\nto his own advancement, that it would be well if all political parties\ncould show many such characters--men who live exclusively for one idea,\nand sacrifice every temporal advantage to this idea. The Reichstag\nwill find it difficult to fill the vacuum caused by the death of Von\nMallinkrodt. In this all parties agree; and members who combated the\nprinciples of the deceased with the greatest earnestness, nevertheless\nconfess that in energy and vigor of expression he was seldom equalled\nand never excelled by any one.\u201d \u201cIn regard to his exterior appearance,\u201d\nthe Magdeburg _Gazette_ says: \u201cVon Mallinkrodt, with his erect person,\nbeautifully-formed head, stern features, and flashing eyes, was a fine\nspecimen of a man who knew how to control his temper, and not give way\nto an outburst of passion at an important moment. He was a leader who,\nin the severest combat, could impart courage and confidence to his\nfollowers, and he stood as firm as a rock when any attempt was made to\ncrush him.\u2026 He will not be soon forgotten by those with whom he has had\nintellectual contests. Of Von Mallinkrodt, who stands alone among men, it\ncan be truly said: \u2018He was a great man.\u2019\u201d\n\nThe reader will pardon us for selecting from among the many tributes\nof respect paid to the memory of Von Mallinkrodt one taken from the\ndemocratic Frankfort _Gazette_, edited by Jews, which journal at other\ntimes keeps its columns open to the most outrageous attacks upon the\nCatholic Church. It says with great truth: \u201cThe single idea of the\nchurch entirely filled the mind of this extraordinary and wonderful man;\nand firmly as he upheld the system of M\u00fchler-Kr\u00e4tzig, as steadfastly\ndid he oppose the policy of Falk. In this opposition he grew stronger\nfrom session to session, the governing principle of his life developed\nitself more and more fully, and he became bolder in his attack upon the\nministers and their parliamentary friends. Talent and character were\nunited in him; a true son of the church, he was at the same time a true\nson of mother earth, and his healthy organization had its effect upon his\ndisposition. The last session of the Reichstag saw him at the height of\nhis usefulness; his last grand speech, in reference to the laws against\nthe bishops, was, as his friends and opponents acknowledge, the most\nimportant parliamentary achievement since the beginning of the conflict.\u2026\nIn him the Reichstag loses not only one of its shining lights, but also\na character of iron mould, such as is seldom found preserved in all its\nstrength in the present unsettled state of public affairs. We cannot join\nin the requiem which the priests will sing around his catafalque, but his\nhonest opponents will venerate his memory, for he was, what can be said\nof but few in our degenerate times--_a true man_.\u201d\n\nWith these noble qualities Von Mallinkrodt possessed the greatest\nmodesty; he was accessible to every one, cheerful and familiar in the\nhappy circle of his friends, respectful to his political opponents, just\nand reasonable to Protestants, and devoted to his spiritual mother, the\nCatholic Church. Like O\u2019Connell, during his parliamentary labors he had\nconstant recourse to prayer. \u201cPray for me!\u201d were his farewell words to\nhis sister when he went to Berlin to enter the arena of politics. When he\nhad concluded the above-mentioned last and grand speech in the Reichstag,\nin regard to the laws against the bishops, with the words, _Per crucem ad\nlucem_, which he himself translated, \u201cthrough the cross to joy,\u201d and when\nhe descended the tribune, he went directly to the seat of Rev. Father\nMiller, of Berlin, counsellor of the bishop, stretched out his hand to\nhim, and said, \u201cYou have prayed well!\u201d It is said of him that before\nany important debate in the chambers he went in the morning to Holy\nCommunion. The people of Nord-Borchen tell one another with emotion how,\nwithout ever having been noticed by him, they have observed their good\nVon Mallinkrodt pass hours in prayer in the lonely chapel near Borchen.\nWhat pious aspirations he made in that secluded spot God alone knows. He\nwas always very fond of reciting the Rosary, which devotion displayed\nitself particularly upon his death-bed. He asked the Sister who nursed\nhim to recite the beads with him, as his weakness prevented him from\npraying aloud. When his wife approached his couch of pain, after greeting\nher affectionately, he told her to look for his rosary and crucifix,\nwhich she would find lying beside him on the right. The following day,\nwhen his sister, the Superioress Pauline, had arrived in Berlin, after\na friendly salutation, he said to her: \u201cIt is indeed good that you\nare here; say with me another decade of the Rosary.\u201d It is related of\nO\u2019Connell that in a decisive moment he would always retire to a corner\nin the House of Parliament, in order to say the Rosary; it was also the\nhabit of Von Mallinkrodt.\n\nThe same living faith which animated him in life gave him also\nconsolation in death. \u201cThink of S. Elizabeth,\u201d said he to his wife,\nThecla; \u201cshe also became a widow when young.\u201d When his wife, the day\nprevious to his death, spoke to him of the love and grief of his five\nchildren, tears filled his eyes; but he wiped them quietly away without\nuttering a word, and looked up to heaven. He explained to the Sister\nwho attended him why during his whole illness he had never felt any\nsolicitude concerning his temporal or family affairs; for, said he, \u201cI\nhave confidence in God.\u201d\n\nAnother remarkable feature of his last sickness, which testifies to the\npeaceful state of mind of this Christian warrior, who fought the cause,\nbut not the individual, was the fact that he evinced real satisfaction\nthat his personal relations toward his political opponents had become\nno worse, but even more friendly. It was this sentiment which, when the\nfever had reached its height, caused him to exclaim: \u201cI was willing to\nlive in peace with every one; but justice must prevail! Should Christians\nnot speak more like Christians when among Christians?\u201d As Von Mallinkrodt\nlived by faith, so also did he die, embracing the sign of redemption; and\nthus he passed away _per crucem ad lucem_--through the cross to joy.\n\n\nAN EXPOSITION OF THE CHURCH IN VIEW OF RECENT DIFFICULTIES AND\nCONTROVERSIES AND THE PRESENT NEEDS OF THE AGE.[35]\n\n\u201cThese are not the times to sit with folded arms, while all the enemies\nof God are occupied in overthrowing every thing worthy of respect.\u201d--PIUS\nIX., Jan. 13, 1873.\n\n\u201cYes, this change, this triumph, will come. I know not whether it will\ncome during my life, during the life of this poor Vicar of Jesus Christ;\nbut that it must come, I know. The resurrection will take place and we\nshall see the end of all impiety.\u201d--PIUS IX., Anniversary of the Roman\nPl\u00e9biscite, 1872.\n\n\nI. THE QUESTION STATED.\n\nThe Catholic Church throughout the world, beginning at Rome, is in a\nsuffering state. There is scarcely a spot on the earth where she is not\nassailed by injustice, oppression, or violent persecution. Like her\ndivine Author in his Passion, every member has its own trial of pain to\nendure. All the gates of hell have been opened, and every species of\nattack, as by general conspiracy, has been let loose at once upon the\nchurch.\n\nCountries in which Catholics outnumber all other Christians put together,\nas France, Austria, Italy, Spain, Bavaria, Baden, South America, Brazil,\nand, until recently, Belgium, are for the most part controlled and\ngoverned by hostile minorities, and in some instances the minority is\nvery small.\n\nHer adversaries, with the finger of derision, point out these facts\nand proclaim them to the world. Look, they say, at Poland, Ireland,\nPortugal, Spain, Bavaria, Austria, Italy, France, and what do you see?\nCountries subjugated, or enervated, or agitated by the internal throes\nof revolution. Everywhere among Catholic nations weakness only and\nincapacity are to be discerned. This is the result of the priestly\ndomination and hierarchical influence of Rome!\n\nHeresy and schism, false philosophy, false science, and false art,\ncunning diplomacy, infidelity, and atheism, one and all boldly raise up\ntheir heads and attack the church in the face; while secret societies\nof world-wide organization are stealthily engaged in undermining her\nstrength with the people. Even the Sick man--the Turk--who lives at the\nbeck of the so-called Christian nations, impudently kicks the church of\nChrist, knowing full well there is no longer in Europe any power which\nwill openly raise a voice in her defence.\n\nHow many souls, on account of this dreadful war waged against the church,\nare now suffering in secret a bitter agony! How many are hesitating,\nknowing not what to do, and looking for guidance! How many are wavering\nbetween hope and fear! Alas! too many have already lost the faith.\n\nCulpable is the silence and base the fear which would restrain one\u2019s\nvoice at a period when God, the church, and religion are everywhere\neither openly denied, boldly attacked, or fiercely persecuted. In such\ntrying times as these silence or fear is betrayal.\n\nThe hand of God is certainly in these events, and it is no less certain\nthat the light of divine faith ought to discern it. Through these clouds\nwhich now obscure the church the light of divine hope ought to pierce,\nenabling us to perceive a better and a brighter future; for this is what\nis in store for the church and the world. That love which embraces at\nonce the greatest glory of God and the highest happiness of man should\noutweigh all fear of misinterpretations, and urge one to make God\u2019s hand\nclear to those who are willing to see, and point out to them the way to\nthat happier and fairer future.\n\nWhat, then, has brought about this most deplorable state of things? How\ncan we account for this apparent lack of faith and strength on the part\nof Catholics? Can it be true, as their enemies assert, that Catholicity,\nwherever it has full sway, deteriorates society? Or is it contrary to the\nspirit of Christianity that Christians should strive with all their might\nto overcome evil in this world? Perhaps the Catholic Church has grown\nold, as others imagine, and has accomplished her task, and is no longer\ncompetent to unite together the conflicting interests of modern society,\nand direct it towards its true destination?\n\nThese questions are most serious ones. Their answers must be fraught with\nmost weighty lessons. Only a meagre outline of the course of argument can\nbe here given in so vast a field of investigation.\n\n\nII. REMOTE CAUSE OF PRESENT DIFFICULTIES.\n\nOne of the chief features of the history of the church for these last\nthree centuries has been its conflict with the religious revolution\nof the XVIth century, properly called Protestantism. The nature of\nProtestantism may be defined as the exaggerated development of personal\nindependence, directed to the negation of the divine authority of the\nchurch, and chiefly aiming at its overthrow in the person of its supreme\nrepresentative, the Pope.\n\nIt is a fixed law, founded in the very nature of the church, that every\nserious and persistent denial of a divinely-revealed truth necessitates\nits vigorous defence, calls out its greater development, and ends,\nfinally, in its dogmatic definition.\n\nThe history of the church is replete with instances of this fact. One\nmust suffice. When Arius denied the divinity of Christ, which was always\nheld as a divinely-revealed truth, at once the doctors of the church and\nthe faithful were aroused in its defence. A general council was called at\nNice, and there this truth was defined and fixed for ever as a dogma of\nthe Catholic faith. The law has always been, from the first Council at\nJerusalem to that of the Vatican, that the negation of a revealed truth\ncalls out its fuller development and its explicit dogmatic definition.\n\nThe Council of Trent refuted and condemned the errors of Protestantism at\nthe time of their birth, and defined the truths against which they were\ndirected; but, for wise and sufficient reasons, abstained from touching\nthe objective point of attack, which was, necessarily, the divine\nauthority of the church. For there was no standing-ground whatever for\na protest against the church, except in its denial. It would have been\nthe height of absurdity to admit an authority, and that divine, and at\nthe same time to refuse to obey its decisions. It was as well known then\nas to-day that the keystone of the whole structure of the church was its\nhead. To overthrow the Papacy was to conquer the church.\n\nThe supreme power of the church for a long period of years was the centre\naround which the battle raged between the adversaries and the champions\nof the faith.\n\nThe denial of the Papal authority in the church necessarily occasioned\nits fuller development. For as long as this hostile movement was\naggressive in its assaults, so long was the church constrained to\nstrengthen her defence, and make a stricter and more detailed application\nof her authority in every sphere of her action, in her hierarchy, in her\ngeneral discipline, and in the personal acts of her children. Every new\ndenial was met with a new defence and a fresh application. The danger was\non the side of revolt, the safety was on that of submission. The poison\nwas an exaggerated spiritual independence, the antidote was increased\nobedience to a divine external authority.\n\nThe chief occupation of the church for the last three centuries was\nthe maintenance of that authority conferred by Christ on S. Peter and\nhis successors, in opposition to the efforts of Protestantism for its\noverthrow; and the contest was terminated for ever in the dogmatic\ndefinition of Papal Infallibility, by the church assembled in council in\nthe Vatican. Luther declared the pope Antichrist. The Catholic Church\naffirmed the pope to be the Vicar of Christ. Luther stigmatized the See\nof Rome as the seat of error. The council of the church defined the See\nof Rome, the chair of S. Peter, to be the infallible interpreter of\ndivinely-revealed truth. This definition closed the controversy.\n\nIn this pressing necessity of defending the papal authority of the\nchurch, the society of S. Ignatius was born. It was no longer the\nrefutation of the errors of the Waldenses and the Albigenses that was\nrequired, nor were the dangers to be combated such as arise from a\nwealthy and luxurious society. The former had been met and overcome by\nthe Dominicans; the latter by the children of S. Francis. But new and\nstrange errors arose, and alarming threats from an entirely different\nquarter were heard. Fearful blows were aimed and struck against the\nkeystone of the divine constitution of the church, and millions of her\nchildren were in open revolt. In this great crisis, as in previous ones,\nProvidence supplied new men and new weapons to meet the new perils.\nS. Ignatius, filled with faith and animated with heroic zeal, came to\nthe rescue, and formed an army of men devoted to the service of the\nchurch, and specially suited to encounter its peculiar dangers. The\nPapacy was their point of attack; the members of his society must be the\nchampions of the pope, his body-guard. The papal authority was denied;\nthe children of S. Ignatius must make a special vow of obedience to the\nHoly Father. The prevailing sin of the time was disobedience; the members\nof his company must aim at becoming the perfect models of the virtue of\nobedience, men whose will should never conflict with the authority of the\nchurch, _perinde cadaver_. The distinguishing traits of a perfect Jesuit\nformed the antithesis of a thorough Protestant.\n\nThe society founded by S. Ignatius undertook a heavy and an heroic task,\none in its nature most unpopular, and requiring above all on the part of\nits members an entire abnegation of that which men hold dearest--their\nown will. It is no wonder that their army of martyrs is so numerous and\ntheir list of saints so long.\n\nInasmuch as the way of destroying a vice is to enforce the practice of\nits opposite virtue, and as the confessional and spiritual direction are\nappropriate channels for applying the authority of the church to the\nconscience and personal actions of the faithful, the members of this\nsociety insisted upon the frequency of the one and the necessity of the\nother. In a short period of time the Jesuits were considered the most\nskilful and were the most-sought-after confessors and spiritual directors\nin the church.\n\nThey were mainly instrumental--by the science of their theologians, the\nlogic of their controversialists, the eloquence of their preachers, the\nexcellence of their spiritual writers, and, above all, by the influence\nof their personal example--in saving millions from following in the great\nrevolt against the church, in regaining millions who had gone astray,\nand in putting a stop to the numerical increase of Protestantism, almost\nwithin the generation in which it was born.\n\nTo their labors and influence it is chiefly owing that the distinguishing\nmark of a sincere Catholic for the last three centuries has been a\nspecial devotion to the Holy See and a filial obedience to the voice of\nthe pope, the common father of the faithful.\n\nThe logical outcome of the existence of the society founded by S.\nIgnatius of Loyola was the dogmatic definition of Papal Infallibility;\nfor this was the final word of victory of divine truth over the specific\nerror which the Jesuits were specially called to combat.\n\n\nIII. PROXIMATE CAUSE.\n\nThe church, while resisting Protestantism, had to give her principal\nattention and apply her main strength to those points which were\nattacked. Like a wise strategist, she drew off her forces from the\nplaces which were secure, and directed them to those posts where danger\nthreatened. As she was most of all engaged in the defence of her external\nauthority and organization, the faithful, in view of this defence, as\nwell as in regard to the dangers of the period, were specially guided to\nthe practice of the virtue of obedience. Is it a matter of surprise that\nthe character of the virtues developed was more passive than active? The\nweight of authority was placed on the side of restraining rather than of\ndeveloping personal independent action.\n\nThe exaggeration of personal authority on the part of Protestants brought\nabout in the church its greater restraint, in order that her divine\nauthority might have its legitimate exercise and exert its salutary\ninfluence. The errors and evils of the times sprang from an unbridled\npersonal independence, which could be only counteracted by habits of\nincreased personal dependence. _Contraria contrariis curantur._ The\ndefence of the church and the salvation of the soul were ordinarily\nsecured at the expense, necessarily, of those virtues which properly go\nto make up the strength of Christian manhood.\n\nThe gain was the maintenance and victory of divine truth and the\nsalvation of the soul. The loss was a certain falling off in energy,\nresulting in decreased action in the natural order. The former was a\npermanent and inestimable gain. The latter was a temporary, and not\nirreparable, loss. There was no room for a choice. The faithful were\nplaced in a position in which it became their unqualified duty to put\ninto practice the precept of our Lord when he said: _It is better for\nthee to enter into life maimed or lame, than, having two hands or two\nfeet, to be cast into everlasting fire_.[36]\n\nIn the principles above briefly stated may in a great measure be found\nthe explanation why fifty millions of Protestants have had generally a\ncontrolling influence, for a long period, over two hundred millions of\nCatholics, in directing the movements and destinies of nations. To the\nsame source may be attributed the fact that Catholic nations, when the\nneed was felt of a man of great personal energy at the head of their\naffairs, seldom hesitated to choose for prime minister an indifferent\nCatholic, or a Protestant, or even an infidel. These principles explain\nalso why Austria, France, Bavaria, Spain, Italy, and other Catholic\ncountries have yielded to a handful of active and determined radicals,\ninfidels, Jews, or atheists, and have been compelled to violate or\nannul their concordats with the Holy See, and to change their political\ninstitutions in a direction hostile to the interests of the Catholic\nreligion. Finally, herein lies the secret why Catholics are at this\nmoment almost everywhere oppressed and persecuted by very inferior\nnumbers. In the natural order the feebler are always made to serve the\nstronger. Evident weakness on one side, in spite of superiority of\nnumbers, provokes on the other, where there is consciousness of power,\nsubjugation and oppression.\n\n\nIV. IS THERE A WAY OUT?\n\nIs divine grace given only at the cost of natural strength? Is a true\nChristian life possible only through the sacrifice of a successful\nnatural career? Are things to remain as they are at present?\n\nThe general history of the Catholic religion in the past condemns these\nsuppositions as the grossest errors and falsest calumnies. Behold the\nsmall numbers of the faithful and their final triumph over the great\ncolossal Roman Empire! Look at the subjugation of the countless and\nvictorious hordes of the Northern barbarians! Witness, again, the prowess\nof the knights of the church, who were her champions in repulsing the\nthreatening Mussulman; every one of whom, by the rule of their order,\nwere bound not to flinch before two Turks! Call to mind the great\ndiscoveries made in all branches of science, and the eminence in art,\ndisplayed by the children of the church, and which underlie--if there\nwere only honesty enough to acknowledge it--most of our modern progress\nand civilization! Long before Protestantism was dreamed of Catholic\nstates in Italy had reached a degree of wealth, power, and glory\nwhich no Protestant nation--it is the confession of one of their own\nhistorians--has since attained.\n\nThere is, then, no reason in the nature of things why the existing\ncondition of Catholics throughout the world should remain as it is. The\nblood that courses through our veins, the graces given in our baptism,\nthe light of our faith, the divine life-giving Bread we receive, are all\nthe same gifts and privileges which we have in common with our great\nancestors. We are the children of the same mighty mother, ever fruitful\nof heroes and great men. The present state of things is neither fatal\nnor final, but only one of the many episodes in the grand history of the\nchurch of God.\n\n\nV. WHICH IS THE WAY OUT?\n\nNo better evidence is needed of the truth of the statements just made\nthan the fact that all Catholics throughout the world are ill at ease\nwith things as they are. The world at large is agitated, as it never has\nbeen before, with problems which enter into the essence of religion or\nare closely connected therewith. Many serious minds are occupied with the\nquestion of the renewal of religion and the regeneration of society. The\naspects in which questions of this nature are viewed are as various as\nthe remedies proposed are numerous. Here are a few of the more important\nones.\n\nOne class of men would begin by laboring for the reconciliation of\nall Christian denominations, and would endeavor to establish unity in\nChristendom as the way to universal restoration. Another class starts\nwith the idea that the remedy would be found in giving a more thorough\nand religious education to youth in schools, colleges, and universities.\nSome would renew the church by translating her liturgies into the vulgar\ntongues, by reducing the number of her forms of devotion, and by giving\nto her worship greater simplicity. Others, again, propose to alter the\nconstitution of the church by the practice of universal elections in the\nhierarchy, by giving the lay element a larger share in the direction of\necclesiastical matters, and by establishing national churches. There\nare those who hope for a better state of things by placing Henry V.\non the throne of France, and Don Carlos on that of Spain. Others,\ncontrariwise, having lost all confidence in princes, look forward with\ngreat expectations to a baptized democracy, a holy Roman democracy, just\nas formerly there was a Holy Roman Empire. Not a few are occupied with\nthe idea of reconciling capital with labor, of changing the tenure of\nproperty, and abolishing standing armies. Others propose a restoration of\ninternational law, a congress of nations, and a renewed and more strict\nobservance of the Decalogue. According to another school, theological\nmotives have lost their hold on the people, the task of directing society\nhas devolved upon science, and its apostolate has begun. There are\nthose, moreover, who hold that society can only be cured by an immense\ncatastrophe, and one hardly knows what great cataclysm is to happen and\nsave the human race. Finally, we are told that the reign of Antichrist\nhas begun, that signs of it are everywhere, and that we are on the eve of\nthe end of the world.\n\nThese are only a few of the projects, plans, and remedies which are\ndiscussed, and which more or less occupy and agitate the public mind. How\nmuch truth or error, how much good or bad, each or all of these theories\ncontain, would require a lifetime to find out.\n\nThe remedy for our evils must be got at, to be practical, in another way.\nIf a new life be imparted to the root of a tree, its effects will soon be\nseen in all its branches, twigs, and leaves. Is it not possible to get at\nthe root of all our evils, and with a radical remedy renew at once the\nwhole face of things? Universal evils are not cured by specifics.\n\n\nVI. THE WAY OUT.\n\nAll things are to be viewed and valued as they bear on the destiny of\nman. Religion is the solution of the problem of man\u2019s destiny. Religion,\ntherefore, lies at the root of everything which concerns man\u2019s true\ninterest.\n\nReligion means Christianity, to all men, or to nearly all, who hold\nto any religion among European nations. Christianity, intelligibly\nunderstood, signifies the church, the Catholic Church. The church is God\nacting through a visible organization directly on men, and, through men,\non society.\n\nThe church is the sum of all problems, and the most potent fact in the\nwhole wide universe. It is therefore illogical to look elsewhere for the\nradical remedy of all our evils. It is equally unworthy of a Catholic to\nlook elsewhere for the renewal of religion.\n\nThe meditation of these great truths is the source from which the\ninspiration must come, if society is to be regenerated and the human race\ndirected to its true destination. He who looks to any other quarter for\na radical and adequate remedy and for true guidance is doomed to failure\nand disappointment.\n\n\nVII. MISSION OF THE HOLY SPIRIT.\n\nIt cannot be too deeply and firmly impressed on the mind that the church\nis actuated by the instinct of the Holy Spirit; and to discern clearly\nits action, and to co-operate with it effectually, is the highest\nemployment of our faculties, and at the same time the primary source of\nthe greatest good to society.\n\nDid we clearly see and understand the divine action of the Holy Spirit\nin the successive steps of the history of the church, we would fully\ncomprehend the law of all true progress. If in this later period more\nstress was laid on the necessity of obedience to the external authority\nof the church than in former days, it was, as has been shown, owing to\nthe peculiar dangers to which the faithful were exposed. It would be an\ninexcusable mistake to suppose for a moment that the holy church, at any\nperiod of her existence, was ignorant or forgetful of the mission and\noffice of the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit established the church, and\ncan he forget his own mission? It is true that he has to guide and govern\nthrough men, but he is the Sovereign of men, and especially of those whom\nhe has chosen as his immediate instruments.\n\nThe essential and universal principle which saves and sanctifies souls\nis the Holy Spirit. He it was who called, inspired, and sanctified the\npatriarchs, the prophets and saints of the old dispensation. The same\ndivine Spirit inspired and sanctified the apostles, the martyrs, and the\nsaints of the new dispensation. The actual and habitual guidance of the\nsoul by the Holy Spirit is the essential principle of all divine life. \u201cI\nhave taught the prophets from the beginning, and even till now I cease\nnot to speak to all.\u201d[37] Christ\u2019s mission was to give the Holy Spirit\nmore abundantly.\n\nNo one who reads the Holy Scriptures can fail to be struck with the\nrepeated injunctions to turn our eyes inward, to walk in the divine\npresence, to see and taste and listen to God in the soul. These\nexhortations run all through the inspired books, beginning with that of\nGenesis, and ending with the Revelations of S. John. \u201cI am the Almighty\nGod, walk before me, and be perfect,\u201d[38] was the lesson which God gave\nto the patriarch Abraham. \u201cBe still and see that I am God.\u201d[39] \u201cO\ntaste, and see that the Lord is sweet; blessed is the man that hopeth in\nhim.\u201d[40] God is the guide, the light of the living, and our strength.\n\u201cGod\u2019s kingdom is within you,\u201d said the divine Master. \u201cKnow you not\nthat you are the temple of God, and that the Spirit of God dwelleth\nin you?\u201d[41] \u201cFor it is God who worketh in you both to will and to\naccomplish, according to his will.\u201d[42] The object of divine revelation\nwas to make known and to establish within the souls of men, and through\nthem upon the earth, the kingdom of God.\n\nIn accordance with the Sacred Scriptures, the Catholic Church teaches\nthat the Holy Spirit is infused, with all his gifts, into our souls by\nthe sacrament of baptism, and that, without his actual prompting or\ninspiration and aid, no thought or act, or even wish, tending directly\ntowards our true destiny, is possible.\n\nThe whole aim of the science of Christian perfection is to instruct men\nhow to remove the hindrances in the way of the action of the Holy Spirit,\nand how to cultivate those virtues which are most favorable to his\nsolicitations and inspirations. Thus the sum of spiritual life consists\nin observing and fortifying the ways and movements of the Spirit of God\nin our soul, employing for this purpose all the exercises of prayer,\nspiritual reading, sacraments, the practice of virtues, and good works.\n\nThat divine action which is the immediate and principal cause of the\nsalvation and perfection of the soul claims by right its direct and\nmain attention. From this source within the soul there will gradually\ncome to birth the consciousness of the indwelling presence of the Holy\nSpirit, out of which will spring a force surpassing all human strength,\na courage higher than all human heroism, a sense of dignity excelling\nall human greatness. The light the age requires for its renewal can come\nonly from the same source. The renewal of the age depends on the renewal\nof religion. The renewal of religion depends upon a greater effusion of\nthe creative and renewing power of the Holy Spirit. The greater effusion\nof the Holy Spirit depends on the giving of increased attention to his\nmovements and inspirations in the soul. The radical and adequate remedy\nfor all the evils of our age, and the source of all true progress,\nconsist in increased attention and fidelity to the action of the Holy\nSpirit in the soul. \u201cThou shalt send forth thy Spirit, and they shall be\ncreated: and thou shalt renew the face of the earth.\u201d[43]\n\n\nVIII. THE MEN THE AGE DEMANDS.\n\nThis truth will be better seen by looking at the matter a little more in\ndetail. The age, we are told, calls for men worthy of that name. Who are\nthose worthy to be called men? Men, assuredly, whose intelligences and\nwills are divinely illuminated and fortified. This is precisely what is\nproduced by the gifts of the Holy Spirit; they enlarge all the faculties\nof the soul at once.\n\nThe age is superficial; it needs the gift of wisdom, which enables\nthe soul to contemplate truth in its ultimate causes. The age is\nmaterialistic; it needs the gift of intelligence, by the light of\nwhich the intellect penetrates into the essence of things. The age\nis captivated by a false and one-sided science; it needs the gift of\nscience, by the light of which is seen each order of truth in its\ntrue relations to other orders and in a divine unity. The age is in\ndisorder, and is ignorant of the way to true progress; it needs the gift\nof counsel, which teaches how to choose the proper means to attain an\nobject. The age is impious; it needs the gift of piety, which leads the\nsoul to look up to God as the Heavenly Father, and to adore him with\nfeelings of filial affection and love. The age is sensual and effeminate;\nit needs the gift of force, which imparts to the will the strength to\nendure the greatest burdens and to prosecute the greatest enterprises\nwith ease and heroism. The age has lost and almost forgotten God; it\nneeds the gift of fear, to bring the soul again to God, and make it feel\nconscious of its great responsibility and of its destiny.\n\nMen endowed with these gifts are the men for whom--if it but knew\nit--the age calls: men whose minds are enlightened and whose wills are\nstrengthened by an increased action of the Holy Spirit; men whose souls\nare actuated by the gifts of the Holy Spirit; men whose countenances are\nlit up with a heavenly joy, who breathe an air of inward peace, and act\nwith a holy liberty and an unaccountable energy. One such soul does more\nto advance the kingdom of God than tens of thousands without such gifts.\nThese are the men and this is the way--if the age could only be made to\nsee and believe it--to universal restoration, universal reconciliation,\nand universal progress.\n\n\nIX. THE CHURCH HAS ENTERED ON THIS WAY.\n\nThe men the age and its needs demand depend on a greater infusion of the\nHoly Spirit in the souls of the faithful; and the church has been already\nprepared for this event.\n\nCan one suppose for a moment that so long, so severe, a contest, as that\nof the three centuries just passed, which, moreover, has cost so dearly,\nhas not been fraught with the greatest utility to the church? Does God\never allow his church to suffer loss in the struggle to accomplish her\ndivine mission?\n\nIt is true that the powerful and persistent assaults of the errors of\nthe XVIth century against the church forced her, so to speak, out of the\nusual orbit of her movement; but having completed her defence from all\ndanger on that side, she is returning to her normal course with increased\nagencies--thanks to that contest--and is entering upon a new and fresh\nphase of life, and upon a more vigorous action in every sphere of her\nexistence. The chiefest of these agencies, and the highest in importance,\nwas that of the definition concerning the nature of papal authority.\nFor the definition of the Vatican Council, having rendered the supreme\nauthority of the church, which is the unerring interpreter and criterion\nof divinely-revealed truth, more explicit and complete, has prepared the\nway for the faithful to follow, with greater safety and liberty, the\ninspirations of the Holy Spirit. The dogmatic papal definition of the\nVatican Council is, therefore, the axis on which turn the new course\nof the church, the renewal of religion, and the entire restoration of\nsociety.\n\nO blessed fruit! purchased at the price of so hard a struggle, but which\nhas gained for the faithful an increased divine illumination and force,\nand thereby the renewal of the whole face of the world.\n\nIt is easy to perceive how great a blunder the so-called \u201cOld Catholics\u201d\ncommitted in opposing the conciliar definition. They professed a desire\nto see a more perfect reign of the Holy Spirit in the church, and by\ntheir opposition rejected, so far as in them lay, the very means of\nbringing it about!\n\nThis by the way: let us continue our course, and follow the divine\naction in the church, which is the initiator and fountain-source of the\nrestoration of all things.\n\nWhat is the meaning of these many pilgrimages to holy places, to\nthe shrines of great saints, the multiplication of Novenas and new\nassociations of prayer? Are they not evidence of increased action of the\nHoly Spirit on the faithful? Why, moreover, these cruel persecutions,\nvexatious fines, and numerous imprisonments of the bishops, clergy, and\nlaity of the church? What is the secret of this stripping the church of\nher temporal possessions and authority? These things have taken place by\nthe divine permission. Have not all these inflictions increased greatly\ndevotion to prayer, cemented more closely the unity of the faithful, and\nturned the attention of all members of the church, from the highest to\nthe lowest, to look for aid from whence it alone can come--from God?\n\nThese trials and sufferings of the faithful are the first steps towards\na better state of things. They detach from earthly things and purify\nthe human side of the church. From them will proceed light and strength\nand victory. _Per crucem ad lucem._ \u201cIf the Lord wishes that other\npersecutions should be sown, the church feels no alarm; on the contrary,\npersecutions purify her and confer upon her a fresh force and a new\nbeauty. There are, in truth, in the church certain things which need\npurification, and for this purpose those persecutions answer best which\nare launched against her by great politicians.\u201d Such is the language of\nPius IX.[44]\n\nThese are only some of the movements, which are public. But how many\nsouls in secret suffer sorely in seeing the church in such tribulations,\nand pray for her deliverance with a fervor almost amounting to agony! Are\nnot all these but so many preparatory steps to a Pentecostal effusion of\nthe Holy Spirit on the church--an effusion, if not equal in intensity to\nthat of apostolic days, at least greater than it in universality? \u201cIf\nat no epoch of the evangelical ages the reign of Satan was so generally\nwelcome as in this our day, the action of the Holy Spirit will have\nto clothe itself with the characteristics of an exceptional extension\nand force. The axioms of geometry do not appear to us more rigorously\nexact than this proposition. A certain indefinable presentiment of\nthis necessity of a new effusion of the Holy Spirit for the actual\nworld exists, and of this presentiment the importance ought not to be\nexaggerated; but yet it would seem rash to make it of no account.\u201d[45]\n\nIs not this the meaning of the presentiment of Pius IX., when he said:\n\u201cSince we have nothing, or next to nothing, to expect from men, let us\nplace our confidence more and more in God, whose heart is preparing, as\nit seems to me, to accomplish, in the moment chosen by himself, a great\nprodigy, which will fill the whole earth with astonishment\u201d?[46]\n\nWas not the same presentiment before the mind of De Maistre when he\npenned the following lines: \u201cWe are on the eve of the greatest of\nreligious epochs; \u2026 it appears to me that every true philosopher must\nchoose between these two hypotheses: either that a new religion is about\nto be formed, or that Christianity will be renewed in some extraordinary\nmanner\u201d?[47]\n\n\nX. TWOFOLD ACTION OF THE HOLY SPIRIT.\n\nBefore further investigation of this new phase of the church, it would\nperhaps be well to set aside a doubt which might arise in the minds of\nsome, namely, whether there is not danger in turning the attention of the\nfaithful in a greater degree in the direction contemplated?\n\nThe enlargement of the field of action for the soul, without a true\nknowledge of the end and scope of the external authority of the church,\nwould only open the door to delusions, errors, and heresies of every\ndescription, and would be in effect merely another form of Protestantism.\n\nOn the other hand, the exclusive view of the external authority of the\nchurch, without a proper understanding of the nature and work of the\nHoly Spirit in the soul, would render the practice of religion formal,\nobedience servile, and the church sterile.\n\nThe action of the Holy Spirit embodied visibly in the authority of\nthe church, and the action of the Holy Spirit dwelling invisibly in\nthe soul, form one inseparable synthesis; and he who has not a clear\nconception of this twofold action of the Holy Spirit is in danger\nof running into one or the other, and sometimes into both, of these\nextremes, either of which is destructive of the end of the church.\n\nThe Holy Spirit, in the external authority of the church, acts as the\ninfallible interpreter and criterion of divine revelation. The Holy\nSpirit in the soul acts as the divine Life-Giver and Sanctifier. It is of\nthe highest importance that these two distinct offices of the Holy Spirit\nshould not be confounded.\n\nThe supposition that there can be any opposition or contradiction between\nthe action of the Holy Spirit in the supreme decisions of the authority\nof the church, and the inspirations of the Holy Spirit in the soul, can\nnever enter the mind of an enlightened and sincere Christian. The same\nSpirit which through the authority of the church teaches divine truth, is\nthe same Spirit which prompts the soul to receive the divine truths which\nhe teaches. The measure of our love for the Holy Spirit is the measure\nof our obedience to the authority of the church; and the measure of our\nobedience to the authority of the church is the measure of our love for\nthe Holy Spirit. Hence the sentence of S. Augustine: \u201c_Quantum quisque\namat ecclesiam Dei, tantum habet Spiritum Sanctum_.\u201d There is one Spirit,\nwhich acts in two different offices concurring to the same end--the\nregeneration and sanctification of the soul.\n\nIn case of obscurity or doubt concerning what is the divinely-revealed\ntruth, or whether what prompts the soul is or is not an inspiration\nof the Holy Spirit, recourse must be had to the divine teacher or\ncriterion, the authority of the church. For it must be borne in mind\nthat to the church, as represented in the first instance by S. Peter,\nand subsequently by his successors, was made the promise of her divine\nFounder that \u201cthe gates of hell should never prevail against her.\u201d[48] No\nsuch promise was ever made by Christ to each individual believer. \u201cThe\nchurch of the living God is the pillar and ground of truth.\u201d[49] The\ntest, therefore, of a truly enlightened and sincere Christian, will be,\nin case of uncertainty, the promptitude of his obedience to the voice of\nthe church.\n\nFrom the above plain truths the following practical rule of conduct may\nbe drawn: The Holy Spirit is the immediate guide of the soul in the way\nof salvation and sanctification; and the criterion or test that the soul\nis guided by the Holy Spirit is its ready obedience to the authority of\nthe church. This rule removes all danger whatever, and with it the soul\ncan walk, run, or fly, if it chooses, in the greatest safety and with\nperfect liberty, in the ways of sanctity.\n\n\nXI. NEW PHASE OF THE CHURCH.\n\nThere are signs which indicate that the members of the church have not\nonly entered upon a deeper and more spiritual life, but that from the\nsame source has arisen a new phase of their intellectual activity.\n\nThe notes of the divine institution of the church--and the credibility of\ndivine revelation--with her constitution and organization, having been\nin the main completed on the external side, the notes which now require\nspecial attention and study are those respecting her divine character,\nwhich lie on the internal side.\n\nThe mind of the church has been turned in this direction for some time\npast. One has but to read the several Encyclical letters of the present\nreigning Supreme Pontiff, and the decrees of the Vatican Council, to be\nfully convinced of this fact.\n\nNo pontiff has so strenuously upheld the value and rights of human reason\nas Pius IX.; and no council has treated so fully of the relations of\nthe natural with the supernatural as that of the Vatican. It must be\nremembered the work of both is not yet concluded. Great mission that, to\nfix for ever those truths so long held in dispute, and to open the door\nto the fuller knowledge of other and still greater verities!\n\nIt is the divine action of the Holy Spirit in and through the church\nwhich gives her external organization the reason for its existence.\nAnd it is the fuller explanation of the divine side of the church and\nits relations with her human side, giving always to the former its due\naccentuation, that will contribute to the increase of the interior\nlife of the faithful, and aid powerfully to remove the blindness of\nthose--whose number is much larger than is commonly supposed--who only\nsee the church on her human side.\n\nAs an indication of these studies, the following mere suggestions,\nconcerning the relations of the internal with the external side of the\nchurch, are here given.\n\nThe practical aim of all true religion is to bring each individual soul\nunder the immediate guidance of the divine Spirit. The divine Spirit\ncommunicates himself to the soul by means of the sacraments of the\nchurch. The divine Spirit acts as the interpreter and criterion of\nrevealed truth by the authority of the church. The divine Spirit acts as\nthe principle of regeneration and sanctification in each Christian soul.\nThe same Spirit clothes with suitable ceremonies and words the truths of\nreligion and the interior life of the soul in the liturgy and devotions\nof the church. The divine Spirit acts as the safeguard of the life of the\nsoul and of the household of God in the discipline of the church. The\ndivine Spirit established the church as the practical and perfect means\nof bringing all souls under his own immediate guidance and into complete\nunion with God. This is the realization of the aim of all true religion.\nThus all religions, viewed in the aspect of a divine life, find their\ncommon centre in the Catholic Church.\n\nThe greater part of the intellectual errors of the age arise from a lack\nof knowledge of the essential relations of the light of faith with the\nlight of reason; of the connection between the mysteries and truths of\ndivine revelation and those discovered and attainable by human reason; of\nthe action of divine grace and the action of the human will.\n\nThe early Greek and Latin fathers of the church largely cultivated this\nfield. The scholastics greatly increased the riches received from their\npredecessors. And had not the attention of the church been turned aside\nfrom its course by the errors of the XVIth century, the demonstration\nof Christianity on its intrinsic side would ere this have received its\nfinishing strokes. The time has come to take up this work, continue it\nwhere it was interrupted, and bring it to completion. Thanks to the\nEncyclicals of Pius IX. and the decisions of the Vatican Council, this\ntask will not now be so difficult.\n\nMany, if not most, of the distinguished apologists of Christianity,\ntheologians, philosophers, and preachers, either by their writings or\neloquence, have already entered upon this path. The recently-published\nvolumes, and those issuing day by day from the press, in exposition, or\ndefence, or apology of Christianity, are engaged in this work.\n\nThis explanation of the internal life and constitution of the church,\nand of the intelligible side of the mysteries of faith and the intrinsic\nreasons for the truths of divine revelation, giving to them their due\nemphasis, combined with the external notes of credibility, would complete\nthe demonstration of Christianity. Such an exposition of Christianity,\nthe union of the internal with the external notes of credibility, is\ncalculated to produce a more enlightened and intense conviction of its\ndivine truth in the faithful, to stimulate them to a more energetic\npersonal action; and, what is more, it would open the door to many\nstraying, but not altogether lost, children, for their return to the fold\nof the church.\n\nThe increased action of the Holy Spirit, with a more vigorous\nco-operation on the part of the faithful, which is in process of\nrealization, will elevate the human personality to an intensity of force\nand grandeur productive of a new era to the church and to society--an\nera difficult for the imagination to grasp, and still more difficult to\ndescribe in words, unless we have recourse to the prophetic language of\nthe inspired Scriptures.\n\nIs not such a demonstration of Christianity and its results anticipated\nin the following words?\n\n\u201cWe are about to see,\u201d said Schlegel, \u201ca new exposition of Christianity,\nwhich will reunite all Christians, and even bring back the infidels\nthemselves.\u201d \u201cThis reunion between science and faith,\u201d says the\nProtestant historian Ranke, \u201cwill be more important in its spiritual\nresults than was the discovery of a new hemisphere three hundred years\nago, or even than that of the true system of the world, or than any other\ndiscovery of any kind whatever.\u201d\n\n\nXII. MISSION OF RACES.\n\nPursuing our study of the action of the Holy Spirit, we shall perceive\nthat a deeper and more explicit exposition of the divine side of the\nchurch, in view of the characteristic gifts of different races, is the\nway or means of realizing the hopes above expressed.\n\nGod is the author of the differing races of men. He, for his own good\nreasons, has stamped upon them their characteristics, and appointed them\nfrom the beginning their places which they are to fill in his church.\n\nIn a matter where there are so many tender susceptibilities, it is highly\nimportant not to overrate the peculiar gifts of any race, nor, on the\nother hand, to underrate them or exaggerate their vices or defects.\nBesides, the different races in modern Europe have been brought so\nclosely together, and have been mingled to such an extent, that their\ndifferences can only be detected in certain broad and leading features.\n\nIt would be also a grave mistake, in speaking of the providential mission\nof the races, to suppose that they imposed their characteristics on\nreligion, Christianity, or the church; whereas, on the contrary, it\nis their Author who has employed in the church their several gifts for\nthe expression and development of those truths for which he specially\ncreated them. The church is God acting through the different races of men\nfor their highest development, together with their present and future\ngreatest happiness and his own greatest glory. \u201cGod directs the nations\nupon the earth.\u201d[50]\n\nEvery leading race of men, or great nation, fills a large space in the\ngeneral history of the world. It is an observation of S. Augustine that\nGod gave the empire of the world to the Romans as a reward for their\ncivic virtues. But it is a matter of surprise how large and important a\npart divine Providence has appointed special races to take in the history\nof religion. It is here sufficient merely to mention the Israelites.\n\nOne cannot help being struck with the mission of the Latin and Celtic\nraces during the greater period of the history of Christianity. What\nbrought them together in the first instance was the transference of\nthe chair of S. Peter, the centre of the church, to Rome, the centre\nof the Latin race. Rome, then, was the embodied expression of a\nperfectly-organized, world-wide power. Rome was the political, and, by\nits great roads, the geographical, centre of the world.\n\nWhat greatly contributed to the predominance of the Latin race, and\nsubsequently of the Celts in union with the Latins, was the abandonment\nof the church by the Greeks by schism, and the loss of the larger\nportion of the Saxons by the errors and revolt of the XVIth century.\nThe faithful, in consequence, were almost exclusively composed of\nLatin-Celts.\n\nThe absence of the Greeks and of so large a portion of the Saxons,\nwhose tendencies and prejudices in many points are similar, left a\nfreer course and an easier task to the church, through her ordinary\nchannels of action, as well as through her extraordinary ones--the\nCouncils, namely, of Trent and the Vatican--to complete her authority and\nexternal constitution. For the Latin-Celtic races are characterized by\nhierarchical, traditional, and emotional tendencies.\n\nThese were the human elements which furnished the church with the\nmeans of developing and completing her supreme authority, her divine\nand ecclesiastical traditions, her discipline, her devotions, and, in\ngeneral, her \u00e6sthetics.\n\n\nXIII. SOME OF THE CAUSES OF PROTESTANTISM.\n\nIt was precisely the importance given to the external constitution\nand to the accessories of the church which excited the antipathies of\nthe Saxons, which culminated in the so-called Reformation. For the\nSaxon races and the mixed Saxons, the English and their descendants,\npredominate in the rational element, in an energetic individuality, and\nin great practical activity in the material order.\n\nOne of the chief defects of the Saxon mind lay in not fully understanding\nthe constitution of the church, or sufficiently appreciating the\nessential necessity of her external organization. Hence their\nmisinterpretation of the providential action of the Latin-Celts, and\ntheir charges against the church of formalism, superstition, and popery.\nThey wrongfully identified the excesses of those races with the church\nof God. They failed to take into sufficient consideration the great\nand constant efforts the church had made, in her national and general\ncouncils, to correct the abuses and extirpate the vices which formed the\nstaple of their complaints.\n\nConscious, also, of a certain feeling of repression of their natural\ninstincts, while this work of the Latin-Celts was being perfected, they\nat the same time felt a great aversion to the increase of externals in\noutward worship, and to the minute regulations in discipline, as well as\nto the growth of papal authority and the outward grandeur of the papal\ncourt. The Saxon leaders in heresy of the XVIth century, as well as those\nof our own day, cunningly taking advantage of those antipathies, united\nwith selfish political considerations, succeeded in making a large number\nbelieve that the question in controversy was not what it really was--a\nquestion, namely, between Christianity and infidelity--but a question\nbetween Romanism and Germanism!\n\nIt is easy to foresee the result of such a false issue; for it is\nimpossible, humanly speaking, that a religion can maintain itself among\na people when once they are led to believe it wrongs their natural\ninstincts, is hostile to their national development, or is unsympathetic\nwith their genius.\n\nWith misunderstandings, weaknesses, and jealousies on both sides, these,\nwith various other causes, led thousands and millions of Saxons and\nAnglo-Saxons to resistance, hatred, and, finally, open revolt against the\nauthority of the church.\n\n\nXIV. PRESENT SAXON PERSECUTIONS.\n\nThe same causes which mainly produced the religious rebellion of the\nXVIth century are still at work among the Saxons, and are the exciting\nmotives of their present persecutions against the church.\n\nLooking through the distorted medium of their Saxon prejudices, grown\nstronger with time, and freshly stimulated by the recent definition of\nPapal Infallibility, they have worked themselves into the belief--seeing\nthe church only on the outside, as they do--that she is purely a human\ninstitution, grown slowly, by the controlling action of the Latin-Celtic\ninstincts, through centuries, to her present formidable proportions. The\ndoctrines, the sacraments, the devotions, the worship of the Catholic\nChurch, are, for the most part, from their stand-point, corruptions\nof Christianity, having their source in the characteristics of the\nLatin-Celtic races. The papal authority, to their sight, is nothing else\nthan the concentration of the sacerdotal tendencies of these races,\ncarried to their culminating point by the recent Vatican definition,\nwhich was due, in the main, to the efforts and the influence exerted\nby the Jesuits. This despotic ecclesiastical authority, which commands\na superstitious reverence and servile submission to all its decrees,\nteaches doctrines inimical to the autonomy of the German Empire, and\nhas fourteen millions or more of its subjects under its sway, ready at\nany moment to obey, at all hazards, its decisions. What is to hinder\nthis ultramontane power from issuing a decree, in a critical moment,\nwhich will disturb the peace and involve, perhaps, the overthrow of\nthat empire, the fruit of so great sacrifices, and the realization\nof the ardent aspirations of the Germanic races? Is it not a dictate\nof self-preservation and political prudence to remove so dangerous an\nelement, and that at all costs, from the state? Is it not a duty to free\nso many millions of our German brethren from this superstitious yoke and\nslavish subjection? Has not divine Providence bestowed the empire of\nEurope upon the Saxons, and placed us Prussians at its head, in order to\naccomplish, with all the means at our disposal, this great work? Is not\nthis a duty which we owe to ourselves, to our brother Germans, and, above\nall, to God? This supreme effort is our divine mission!\n\nThis picture of the Catholic Church, as it appears to a large class\nof non-Catholic German minds, is not overdrawn. It admits of higher\ncoloring, and it would still be true and even more exact.\n\nThis is the monster which the too excited imagination and the\ndeeply-rooted prejudice of the Saxon mind have created, and called, by\nway of contempt, the \u201cLatin,\u201d the \u201cRomish,\u201d the \u201cPopish\u201d Church. It is\nagainst this monster that they direct their persistent attacks, their\ncruel persecutions, animated with the fixed purpose of accomplishing its\nentire overthrow.\n\nIs this a thing to be marvelled at, when Catholics themselves abhor\nand detest this caricature of the Catholic Church--for it is nothing\nelse--more than these men do, or possibly can do?\n\nThe attitude of the German Empire, and of the British Empire also, until\nthe Emancipation Act, _vis-\u00e0-vis_ to the Catholic Church as they conceive\nher to be, may, stripped of all accidental matter, be stated thus:\nEither adapt Latin Christianity, the Romish Church, to the Germanic type\nof character and to the exigencies of the empire, or we will employ all\nthe forces and all the means at our disposal to stamp out Catholicity\nwithin our dominions, and to exterminate its existence, as far as our\nauthority and influence extend!\n\n\nXV. RETURN OF THE SAXON RACES TO THE CHURCH.\n\nThe German mind, when once it is bent upon a course, is not easily turned\naside, and the present out-look for the church in Germany is not, humanly\nspeaking, a pleasant one to contemplate. It is an old and common saying\nthat \u201cTruth is mighty, and will prevail.\u201d But why? \u201cTruth is mighty\u201d\nbecause it is calculated to convince the mind, captivate the soul, and\nsolicit its uttermost devotion and action. \u201cTruth will prevail,\u201d provided\nit is so presented to the mind as to be seen really as it is. It is only\nwhen the truth is unknown or disfigured that the sincere repel it.\n\nThe return, therefore, of the Saxon races to the church, is to be hoped\nfor, not by trimming divine truth, nor by altering the constitution of\nthe church, nor by what are called concessions. Their return is to be\nhoped for, by so presenting the divine truth to their minds that they\ncan see that it is divine truth. This will open their way to the church\nin harmony with their genuine instincts, and in her bosom they will\nfind the realization of that career which their true aspirations point\nout for them. For the Holy Spirit, of which the church is the organ and\nexpression, places every soul, and therefore all nations and races, in\nthe immediate and perfect relation with their supreme end, God, in whom\nthey obtain their highest development, happiness, and glory, both in this\nlife and in the life to come.\n\nThe church, as has been shown, has already entered on this path of\npresenting more intimately and clearly her inward and divine side to the\nworld; for her deepest and most active thinkers are actually engaged,\nmore or less consciously, in this providential work.\n\nIn showing more fully the relations of the internal with the external\nside of the church, keeping in view the internal as the end and aim of\nall, the mystic tendencies of the German mind will truly appreciate the\ninterior life of the church, and find in it their highest satisfaction.\nBy penetrating more deeply into the intelligible side of the mysteries of\nfaith and the intrinsic reasons for revealed truth and the existence of\nthe church, the strong rational tendencies of the Saxon mind will seize\nhold of, and be led to apprehend, the intrinsic reasons for Christianity.\nThe church will present herself to their minds as the practical means\nof establishing the complete reign of the Holy Spirit in the soul, and,\nconsequently, of bringing the kingdom of heaven upon earth. This is the\nideal conception of Christianity, entertained by all sincere believers\nin Christ among non-Catholics in Europe and the United States. This\nexposition, and an increased action of the Holy Spirit in the church\nco-operating therewith, would complete their conviction of the divine\ncharacter of the church and of the divinity of Christianity.\n\nAll this may seem highly speculative and of no practical bearing. But it\nhas precisely such a bearing, if one considers, in connection with it,\nwhat is now going on throughout the Prussian kingdom and other parts\nof Germany, including Switzerland. What is it which we see in all these\nregions? A simultaneous and persistent determination to destroy, by every\nspecies of persecution, the Catholic Church. Now, the general law of\npersecution is the conversion of the persecutors.\n\nThrough the cross Christ began the redemption of the world; through the\ncross the redemption of the world is to be continued and completed. It\nwas mainly by the shedding of the blood of the martyrs that the Roman\nEmpire was gained to the faith. Their conquerors were won by the toil,\nheroic labors and sufferings of saintly missionaries. The same law holds\ngood in regard to modern persecutors. The question is not how shall\nthe German Empire be overthrown, or of waiting in anticipation of its\ndestruction, or how shall the church withstand its alarming persecutions?\nThe great question is how shall the blindness be removed from the eyes of\nthe persecutors of the church, and how can they be led to see her divine\nbeauty, holiness, and truth, which at present are hidden from their\nsight? The practical question is how shall the church gain over the great\nGerman empire to the cause of Christ?\n\nO blessed persecutions! if, in addition to the divine virtues, which\nthey will bring forth to light by the sufferings of the faithful, they\nserve also to lead the champions of the faith to seek for and employ\nsuch proofs and arguments as the Saxon mind cannot withstand, producing\nconviction in their intelligence, and striking home the truth to their\nhearts; and in this way, instead of incurring defeat, they will pluck out\nof the threatening jaws of this raging German wolf the sweet fruit of\nvictory.\n\nThis view is eminently practical, when you consider that the same law\nwhich applies to the persecutors of the church applies equally to\nthe leading or governing races. This is true from the beginning of\nthe church. The great apostles S. Peter and S. Paul did not stop in\nJerusalem, but turned their eyes and steps towards all-conquering,\nall-powerful Rome. Their faith and their heroism, sealed with their\nmartyrdom, after a long and bloody contest, obtained the victory. The\nimperial Roman eagles became proud to carry aloft the victorious cross of\nChrist! The Goths, the Huns, and Vandals came; the contest was repeated,\nthe victory too; and they were subdued to the sweet yoke of Christ, and\nincorporated in the bosom of his church.\n\nIs this rise of the Germanic Empire, in our day, to be considered only\nas a passing occurrence, and are we to suppose that things will soon\nagain take their former course? Or is it to be thought of as a real\nchange in the direction of the world\u2019s affairs, under the lead of the\ndominant Saxon races? If the history of the human race from its cradle\ncan be taken as a rule, the course of empire is ever northward. Be that\nas it may, the Saxons have actually in their hands, and are resolutely\ndetermined to keep, the ruling power in Europe, if not in the world. And\nthe church is a divine queen, and her aim has always been to win to her\nbosom the imperial races. She has never failed to do it, too!\n\nThink you these people are for the most part actuated by mere malice, and\nare persecuting the church with knowledge of what they are doing? The\nquestion is not of their prominent leaders and the actual apostates.\nThere may be future prodigal sons even amongst these. Does not the church\nsuffer from their hands in a great measure what her divine Founder\nsuffered when he was nailed to the cross, and cried, \u201cFather, forgive\nthem, they know not what they do\u201d?\n\nThe persecutors in the present generation are not to be judged as those\nwho were born in the church, and who, knowing her divine character, by\nan unaccountable defection, turned their backs upon her. Will their\nstumbling prove a fatal fall to all their descendants? God forbid! Their\nloss for a time has proved a gain to the church, and their return will\nbring riches to both, and through them to the whole world; \u201cfor God is\nable to ingraft them again.\u201d[51]\n\nThe Catholic Church unveils to the penetrating intelligence of the\nSaxon races her divine internal life and beauty; to their energetic\nindividuality she proposes its elevation to a divine manhood; and to\ntheir great practical activity she opens the door to its employment in\nspreading the divine faith over the whole world!\n\nThat which will hasten greatly the return of the Saxons to the church\nis the progressive action of the controlling and dissolving elements of\nProtestantism towards the entire negation of all religion. For the errors\ncontained in every heresy, which time never fails to produce, involve its\ncertain extinction. Many born in those errors, clearly foreseeing these\nresults, have already returned to the fold of the church. This movement\nwill be accelerated by the more rapid dissolution of Protestantism,\nconsequent on its being placed recently under similar hostile legislation\nin Switzerland and Germany with the Catholic Church. \u201cThe blows struck at\nthe Church of Rome,\u201d such is the acknowledgment of one of its own organs,\n\u201ctell with redoubled force against the evangelical church.\u201d\n\nWith an intelligent positive movement on the part of the church, and by\nthe actual progressive negative one operating in Protestantism, that\npainful wound inflicted in the XVIth century on Christianity will be\nsoon, let us hope, closed up and healed, never again to be reopened.\n\n\nXVI. MIXED SAXONS RETURNING.\n\nChrist blamed the Jews, who were skilful in detecting the signs of change\nin the weather, for their want of skill in discerning the signs of the\ntimes. There are evidences, and where we should first expect to meet\nthem--namely, among the mixed Saxon races, the people of England and the\nUnited States--of this return to the true church.\n\nThe mixture of the Anglo-Saxons with the blood of the Celts in former\ndays caused them to retain, at the time of the so-called Reformation,\nmore of the doctrines, worship, and organization of the Catholic Church\nthan did the thorough Saxons of Germany. It is for the same reason that\namong them are manifested the first unmistakable symptoms of their\nentrance once more into the bosom of the church.\n\nAt different epochs movements in this direction have taken place, but\nnever so serious and general as at the present time. The character and\nthe number of the converts from Anglicanism to the Catholic Church\ngave, in the beginning, a great alarm to the English nation. But now\nit has become reconciled to the movement, which continues and takes its\ncourse among the more intelligent and influential classes, and that\nnotwithstanding the spasmodic cry of alarm of Lord John Russell and the\nmore spiteful attack of the Right Hon. William E. Gladstone, M.P., late\nprime minister.\n\nIt is clear to those who have eyes to see such things that God is\nbestowing special graces upon the English people in our day, and that the\nhope is not without solid foundation which looks forward to the time when\nEngland shall again take rank among the Catholic nations.\n\nThe evidences of a movement towards the Catholic Church are still clearer\nand more general in the United States. There is less prejudice and\nhostility against the church in the United States than in England, and\nhence her progress is much greater.\n\nThe Catholics, in the beginning of this century, stood as one to every\ntwo hundred of the whole population of the American Republic. The ratio\nof Catholics now is one to six or seven of the inhabitants. The Catholics\nwill outnumber, before the close of this century, all other believers in\nChristianity put together in the republic.\n\nThis is no fanciful statement, but one based on a careful study of\nstatistics, and the estimate is moderate. Even should emigration from\nCatholic countries to the United States cease altogether--which it will\nnot--or even should it greatly diminish, the supposed loss or diminution,\nin this source of augmentation, will be fully compensated by the relative\nincrease of births among the Catholics, as compared with that among other\nportions of the population.\n\nThe spirit, the tendencies, and the form of political government\ninherited by the people of the United States are strongly and\ndistinctively Saxon; yet there are no more patriotic or better citizens\nin the republic than the Roman Catholics, and no more intelligent,\npractical, and devoted Catholics in the church than the seven millions of\nCatholics in this same young and vigorous republic. The Catholic faith is\nthe only persistently progressive religious element, compared with the\nincrease of population, in the United States. A striking proof that the\nCatholic Church flourishes wherever there is honest freedom and wherever\nhuman nature has its full share of liberty! Give the Catholic Church\nequal rights and fair play, and she will again win Europe, and with\nEurope the world.\n\nNow, who will venture to assert that these two mixed Saxon nations,\nof England and the United States, are not, in the order of divine\nProvidence, the appointed leaders of the great movement of the return of\nall the Saxons to the Holy Catholic Church?\n\nThe sun, in his early dawn, first touches the brightest mountain-tops,\nand, advancing in his course, floods the deepest valleys with his\nglorious light; and so the Sun of divine grace has begun to enlighten the\nminds in the highest stations in life in England, in the United States,\nand in Germany; and what human power will impede the extension of its\nholy light to the souls of the whole population of these countries?\n\n\nXVII. TRANSITION OF THE LATIN-CELTS\n\nStrange action of divine Providence in ruling the nations of this earth!\nWhile the Saxons are about to pass from a natural to a supernatural\ncareer, the Latin-Celts are impatient for, and have already entered upon,\na natural one. What does this mean? Are these races to change their\nrelative positions before the face of the world?\n\nThe present movement of transition began on the part of the Latin-Celtic\nnations in the last century among the French people, who of all these\nnations stand geographically the nearest, and whose blood is most mingled\nwith that of the Saxons. That transition began in violence, because it\nwas provoked to a premature birth by the circumstance that the control\nexercised by the church as the natural moderator of the Christian\nrepublic of Europe was set aside by Protestantism, particularly so in\nFrance, in consequence of a diluted dose of the same Protestantism under\nthe name of Gallicanism. Exempt from this salutary control, kings and the\naristocracy oppressed the people at their own will and pleasure; and the\npeople, in turn, wildly rose up in their might, and cut off, at their own\nwill and pleasure, the heads of the kings and aristocrats. Louis XIV.,\nin his pride, said, \u201cL\u2019Etat c\u2019est moi!\u201d The people replied, in their\npassion, \u201cL\u2019Etat c\u2019est nous!\u201d\n\nUnder the guidance of the church the transformation from feudalism to\nall that is included under the title of modern citizenship was effected\nwith order, peace, and benefit to all classes concerned. Apart from this\naid, society pendulates from despotism to anarchy, and from anarchy to\ndespotism. The French people at the present moment are groping about, and\nearnestly seeking after the true path of progress, which they lost some\ntime back by their departure from the Christian order of society.\n\nThe true movement of Christian progress was turned aside into destructive\nchannels, and this movement, becoming revolutionary, has passed in our\nday to the Italian and Spanish nations.\n\nLooking at things in their broad features, Christianity is at this\nmoment exposed to the danger, on the one hand, of being exterminated by\nthe persecutions of the Saxon races, and, on the other, of being denied\nby the apostasy of the Latin-Celts. This is the great tribulation of\nthe present hour of the church. She feels the painful struggle. The\ndestructive work of crushing out Christianity by means of these hostile\ntendencies has already begun. If, as some imagine, the Christian faith be\nonly possible at the sacrifice of human nature, and if a natural career\nbe only possible at the sacrifice of the Christian faith, it requires no\nprophetic eye to foresee the sad results to the Christian religion at no\ndistant future.\n\nBut it is not so. The principles already laid down and proclaimed to the\nworld by the church answer satisfactorily these difficulties. What the\nage demands, what society is seeking for, rightly interpreted, is the\nknowledge of these principles and their practical application to its\npresent needs.\n\nFor God is no less the author of nature than of grace, of reason than of\nfaith, of this earth than of heaven.\n\nThe Word by which all things were made that were made, and the Word which\nwas made flesh, is one and the same Word. The light which enlighteneth\nevery man that cometh into this world, and the light of Christian faith,\nare, although differing in degree, the same light. \u201cThere is therefore\nnothing so foolish or so absurd,\u201d to use the words of Pius IX. on the\nsame subject, \u201cas to suppose there can be any opposition between\nthem.\u201d[52] Their connection is intimate, their relation is primary;\nthey are, in essence, one. For what else did Christ become man than to\nestablish the kingdom of God on earth, as the way to the kingdom of God\nin heaven?\n\nIt cannot be too often repeated to the men of this generation, so many\nof whom are trying to banish and forget God, that God, and God alone, is\nthe Creator and Renewer of the world. The same God who made all things,\nand who became man, and began the work of regeneration, is the same who\nreally acts in the church now upon men and society, and who has pledged\nhis word to continue to do so until the end of the world. To be guided\nby God\u2019s church is to be guided by God. It is in vain to look elsewhere.\n\u201cSociety,\u201d as the present pontiff has observed, \u201chas been enclosed in a\nlabyrinth, out of which it will never issue save by the hand of God.\u201d[53]\nThe hand of God is the church. It is this hand he is extending, in a more\ndistinctive and attractive form, to this present generation. Blessed\ngeneration, if it can only be led to see this outstretched hand, and to\nfollow the path of all true progress, which it so clearly points out!\n\n\nXVIII. PERSPECTIVE OF THE FUTURE.\n\nDuring the last three centuries, from the nature of the work the church\nhad to do, the weight of her influence had to be mainly exerted on the\nside of restraining human activity. Her present and future influence, due\nto the completion of her external organization, will be exerted on the\nside of soliciting increased action. The first was necessarily repressive\nand unpopular; the second will be, on the contrary, expansive and\npopular. The one excited antagonism; the other will attract sympathy and\ncheerful co-operation. The former restraint was exercised, not against\nhuman activity, but against the exaggeration of that activity. The future\nwill be the solicitation of the same activity towards its elevation and\ndivine expansion, enhancing its fruitfulness and glory.\n\nThese different races of Europe and the United States, constituting the\nbody of the most civilized nations of the world, united in an intelligent\nappreciation of the divine character of the church, with their varied\ncapacities and the great agencies at their disposal, would be the\nprovidential means of rapidly spreading the light of faith over the whole\nworld, and of constituting a more Christian state of society.\n\nIn this way would be reached a more perfect realization of the prediction\nof the prophets, of the promises and prayers of Christ, and of the true\naspiration of all noble souls.\n\nThis is what the age is calling for, if rightly understood, in its\ncountless theories and projects of reform.\n\n\nODD STORIES.\n\nIX.\n\nKURDIG.\n\nThe sun was setting in the vale of Kashmir. Under the blessing of its\nrays the admiring fakir would again have said that here undoubtedly was\nthe place of the earthly paradise where mankind was born in the morning\nof the world. Something of the same thought may have stirred the mind of\na dwarfed and hump-backed man with bow-legs, who, from carrying on his\nshoulders a heavy barrel up the steep and crooked path of a hillside,\nstopped to rest while he looked mournfully at the sun. Herds of goats\nthat strayed near him, and flocks of sheep that grazed below, might have\nprovoked their deformed neighbor to envy their shapely and well-clad\nbeauty and peaceful movements. Could he have found it in his heart to\ncurse the sun which had seemed to view with such complacency his hard\ntoils amid the burden and heat of the day, the compassionate splendor of\nits last look upon field, river, and mountain would still have touched\nhis soul. As it was, he saw that earth and heaven were beautiful, and\nthat he was not. Whether he uttered it or not, his keen, sad eyes and\nthoughtful face were a lament that his hard lot had made him the one\nugly feature in that gentle scene. No, not the only one; he shared his\nsingularity with the little green snake that now crawled near his feet.\nYet even this reptile, he thought, could boast its sinuous beauty,\nits harmony with the order of things; for it was a perfect snake, and\nhe--well, he was scarce a man. Soon, however, better thoughts took\npossession of his mind, and, when he shouldered his barrel to climb the\nhill, he thought that one of those beautiful peris, whose mission it is\nto console earth\u2019s sorrowing children ere yet their wings are admitted to\nheaven, thus murmured in his ear, with a speech that was like melody: \u201cO\nKurdig, child of toil! thy lot is indeed hard, but thou bearest it not\nfor thyself alone, and thy master and rewarder hath set thee thy task;\nand for this thou shalt have the unseen for thy friends, love for thy\nthought, and heaven for thy solace.\u201d As he ascended the hill it seemed\nto him that his load grew lighter, as if by help of invisible hands. He\nlooked for a moment on the snake which hissed at him, and though but\nan hour ago, moved by a feud as old as man, he would have ground it in\nhate beneath his foot, he now let it pass. The crooked man ascended the\nhill, while the crooked serpent passed downward; and it was as if one\nunderstood the other. At length the dwarf Kurdig reached the yard of\nthe palace, which stood on a shady portion of the eminence, but, as he\nlaid down his burden with a smile and a good word before his employer,\nsuddenly he felt the sharp cut of a whip across the shoulders. He\nwrithed and smarted, feeling as if the old serpent had stung him.\n\nKurdig was one of those hewers of wood and drawers of water whose daily\nbeing in the wonderful vale of Kashmir seemed but a harsh contrast of\nfallen man with the paradise that once was his home. When he did not\ncarry barrels of wine, or fruit-loads, or other burdens to the top\nof the hill, he assisted his poor sister and her child in the task\nof making shawls for one of a number of large shawl-dealers who gave\nemployment to the people of the valley. With them the dearest days of\nhis life were spent. At odd times he taught the little girl the names of\nflowers, the virtues of herbs, and even how to read and write--no small\naccomplishments among peasant folk, and only gained by the dwarf himself\nbecause his mind was as patient and as shrewd as his body was misshapen.\nHis great desire for all useful knowledge found exercise in all the\ncommon stores of mother-wit and rustic science which the unlettered\npeople around preserved as their inheritance. How to build houses, to\nmake chairs, ovens, hats; how to catch fish and conduct spring-waters;\nhow to apply herbs for cure and healing; how to make oils and crude\nwine--these things he knew as none other of all the peasantry about could\npretend to know. He had seen, too, and had sometimes followed in the\nhunt, the beasts of the forest; nor was he, as we have seen, afraid of\nreptiles. He could row and swim, and while others danced he could sing\nand play. This variety of accomplishments slowly acquired for the dwarf\nan influence which, though little acknowledged, was widespread. In all\nthe work and play of the rude folk around him he was the almost innocent\nand unregarded master-spirit. The improvement of their houses owed\nsomething to his hand, and their feasts were in good part planned by him;\nfor, while he acted as their servant, he was in truth their master. To\ncure the common fevers, aches, hurts, he had well-tried simples, and his\nsearches and experiments had added something new to the herbal remedies\nof his fathers. All his talents as doctor, musician, mechanic, and\nstory-teller his neighbors did not fail to make use of, while the dwarf\nstill kept in the background, and his ugliness, whenever accident had\nmade him at all prominent, was laughed at as much as ever. Even the poor\ncreatures his knowledge had cured, and his good-nature had not tasked to\npay him, uttered a careless laugh when they praised their physician, as\nif they said: \u201cWell, who would have thought the ugly little crook-back\nwas so cunning?\u201d\n\nYet there was one who never joined in the general smile which accompanied\nthe announcement of the name of Kurdig. This was his sister\u2019s child.\nNever without pain could she hear his name jestingly mentioned; always\nwith reverence, and sometimes with tears, she spoke of him. The wan,\nslender child had grown almost from its feeble infancy by the side of\nthe dwarf. When able to leave her mother\u2019s sole care, he had taught the\nchild her first games and songs, and step by step had instructed her in\nall the rude home-lessons prevalent among the country people--how to\nknit, to weave, to read and to write, according to the necessities of her\nplace and condition. The wonder was that from a pale and sickly infant\nthe child grew as by a charm, under the eye of the dwarf, into a blooming\ngirl, whose quiet and simple demeanor detracted nothing from her peculiar\nloveliness, and made her habits of industry the more admirable. There\nwas, then, one being in the world whom the dwarf undoubtedly loved, and\nby whom he was loved in return.\n\n\nNEW PUBLICATIONS.\n\n    THE TRUE AND THE FALSE INFALLIBILITY OF THE POPES, ETC. By\n    the late Bishop Fessler. Translated by Father St. John, of the\n    Edgbaston Oratory. New York: The Catholic Publication Society.\n    1875.\n\nDr. Fessler was Bishop of St. Polten in Austria, and the\nSecretary-General of the Council of the Vatican. He wrote this pamphlet\nas a reply to the apostate Dr. Schulte. It was carefully examined and\napproved at Rome, and the author received a complimentary letter from\nthe Pope for the good service he had rendered to the cause of truth. The\ntrue infallibility which the author vindicates is that infallibility of\nthe Pope in defining dogmas of Catholic faith and condemning heresies,\nwhich was defined as a Catholic dogma by the Council of the Vatican.\nThe false infallibility which he impugns is the travesty of the true\ndoctrine, falsely imputed by Schulte and others to the Catholic Church\nas her authoritative teaching expressed in the definition of the Vatican\nCouncil. This doctrine of infallibility falsely imputed represents the\nPope as claiming inspiration, power to create new dogmas, infallibility\nas a private doctor, as a judge of particular cases, and as a ruler.\nSuch an infallibility was not defined by the Council of the Vatican,\nhas never been asserted by the popes, is not maintained by any school\nof theologians, and is, moreover, partly in direct contradiction to\nthe Catholic doctrine, partly manifestly false, and as for the rest\nwithout any solid or probable foundation. This false infallibility\nmust, however, be carefully distinguished from the theological doctrine\nwhich extends the infallibility of the church and of the Pope as to\nits objective scope and limit; beyond the sphere of pure dogma, or the\nCatholic faith, strictly and properly so-called; over the entire realm\nof matters virtually, mediately, or indirectly contained in, related to,\nor connected with the body of doctrine which is formally revealed, and\nis either categorically proposed or capable of being proposed by the\nchurch as of divine and Catholic faith. Bishop Fessler confines himself\nto that which has been defined in express terms by the council, and must\nbe held as an article of faith by every Catholic, under pain of incurring\nanathema as a heretic. This definition respects directly the Pope,\nspeaking as Pope, as being the subject, of whom the same infallibility\nis predicated which is predicated of the Catholic Church. The object\nof infallibility is obliquely defined, and only so far as necessary to\nthe precise definition of the subject, which is the Pope speaking _ex\ncathedr\u00e2_. As to the object, or extension of infallibility, no specific\ndefinition has been made. The definition is generic only. That is, it\ngives in general terms those matters which are in the genus of faith\nand morals, as the object of infallible teaching. The truths formally\nrevealed are the basis of all doctrine in any way respecting faith and\nmorals which is theological; and they control all doctrine which is\nphilosophical, concerning our relations to God and creatures, at least\nnegatively. Therefore, taken in its most restricted sense, infallibility\nin faith and morals must denote infallibility in teaching and defining\nthese formally-revealed truths. So much, then, respecting the object, is\nnecessarily _de fide_, and is held as such by every theologian and every\ninstructed Catholic.\n\nAs to the further extension of infallibility, or the specific definition\nof all the matters included in the term \u201cde fide et moribus,\u201d the fathers\nof the council postponed their decisions to a later day, and probably\nwill consider them when the council is re-assembled. In the meantime,\nwe have to be guided by the teaching of the best theologians whose\ndoctrine is consonant to the practice of the Holy See. We may refer\nthe curious reader to Father Knox\u2019s little work, _When does the Church\nSpeak Infallibly?_ as the safest source of information concerning this\nimportant point. As a matter of fact, the popes do teach with authority\nmany truths which are not articles of faith, and condemn many opinions\nwhich are not heresies. Moreover, they command the faithful to assent\nto their teaching, and frequently punish those who refuse to do so.\nIt is much more logical, and much more consonant to sound theological\nprinciples, to believe that they are infallible in respect to every\nmatter in which they justly command our absolute and irrevocable assent,\nthan to believe that we are bound to render this obedience to a fallible\nauthority. But of the obligation in conscience to submit to all the\ndoctrinal decisions of the Holy See there is no question. And this\nobligation is very distinctly and emphatically declared by Pius IX., with\nthe concurrence of the universal episcopate, in the closing monition of\nthe First Decree of the Council of the Vatican.\n\n\u201cSince it is not enough to avoid heretical pravity, unless those errors\nalso are diligently shunned which more or less approach it, we admonish\nall of the duty of observing also those constitutions and decrees in\nwhich perverse opinions of this sort, not here expressly enumerated, are\nproscribed and prohibited by this Holy See.\u201d\n\n    THE ARCHBISHOP OF WESTMINSTER\u2019S REPLY TO MR. GLADSTONE.\n\n    BISHOP ULLATHORNE ON THE SAME SUBJECT.\n\n    BISHOP VAUGHAN ON THE SAME.\n\n    LORD ROBERT MONTAGU ON THE SAME, ETC.--All published by The\n    Catholic Publication Society. New York: 1875.\n\nThe Archbishop of Westminster has the intellectual and moral as well as\nthe ecclesiastical primacy in the Catholic Church of England, and in\nthis controversy he leads the band of noble champions of the faith which\nMr. Gladstone\u2019s audacious war-cry has evoked. The illustrious successor\nof S. Anselm and S. Thomas \u00e0 Becket has a remarkably clear insight into\nthe fundamental principles of theology and canon law, an unswerving\nlogical consistency in deducing their connections and consequences, a\nloyal integrity in his faith and devotion toward Christ and his Vicar, a\nlucidity of style and language, an untiring activity, dauntless courage,\ntactical skill, and abundance of resources in his polemics, which combine\nto make him a champion and leader of the first class in ecclesiastical\nwarfare--a very Duguesclin of controversy. In the present pamphlet he\nhas defined the issues with more precision, and brought the main force\nof Catholic principles more directly and powerfully into collision with\nhis adversary\u2019s opposite centre, than any other of the remarkably able\nantagonists of Mr. Gladstone.\n\nWe refer our readers to the pamphlet itself for a knowledge of its line\nof argument. We will merely call attention to a few particular points\nin it which are noteworthy. In the first place, we desire to note the\nexposition of one very important truth frequently misapprehended and\nmisstated. This is, namely, that the doctrine of Papal Infallibility was\nnot, before the Council of the Vatican, a mere opinion of theologians,\nbut the certain doctrine of the church, proximate to faith, and only\nquestioned since the Council of Constance by a small number, whose\nopinion was _never a probable doctrine, but only a tolerated error_.\nThe archbishop, moreover, shows briefly but clearly how this error,\nwhose intrinsic mischief was practically nullified in pious Gallicans by\ntheir obedience to the Holy See, and the overpowering weight which the\nconcurrence of the great body of the bishops with the Pope always gave\nto his dogmatic decrees, was threatening to become extremely active and\ndangerous if longer tolerated; and that the definition of the Council of\nthe Vatican was therefore not only opportune and prudent, but necessary.\n\nHe shows, moreover, that the violent and aggressive party which stirred\nup the conflict now raging was the party of faithless men who wore the\nmask of Catholic profession, with their political and anti-Catholic\naccomplices, whose unsuccessful _ruse de guerre_, at the time of the\ncouncil, was only the preliminary man\u0153uvre of a systematic war on the\nchurch.\n\nThe unchanged position of Catholics since the council, in respect to\ncivil allegiance; the essential similarity of that position, doctrinally,\nwith that of all persons who maintain the supremacy of conscience and\ndivine law; its greater practical security for stability of government\nand political order over any other position; the firm basis for temporal\nsovereignty and independence which Catholic doctrine gives to the state;\nand the great variation of practical relations between church and state\nfrom their condition at a former period which altered circumstances\nhave caused, are clearly and ably developed. We are pleased to observe\nthe positions laid down in our own editorial article on \u201cReligion and\nState in our Republic\u201d sustained and confirmed by the archbishop\u2019s high\nauthority. Americans must be especially gratified at the warm eulogium\nupon Lord Baltimore and the primitive constitution of the Maryland colony.\n\nAmong the numerous other replies to Mr. Gladstone, besides those already\nnoticed in this magazine, the pamphlets of Bishop Vaughan, Bishop\nUllathorne, and Lord Robert Montagu are especially remarkable and worthy\nof perusal. Each of them has its own peculiar line of argument and\nindividual excellence, and they supplement each other.\n\nThe want of sympathy with Mr. Gladstone generally manifested in England\nand America, and the respectful interest shown in the exposition of\nCatholic principles by his antagonists, are specially worthy of remark.\nWe are under great obligations to Mr. Gladstone for the fine opportunity\nhe has afforded us of gaining such a hearing, and he has thus indirectly\nand unintentionally done the cause of Catholic truth a very great\nservice, which some of our opponents candidly, though with considerable\nchagrin, have acknowledged.\n\n    THE MINISTRY OF S. JOHN BAPTIST. By H. J. Coleridge, S.J.\n    London: Burns & Oates. 1875. (New York: Sold by The Catholic\n    Publication Society.)\n\nFather Coleridge has devoted himself to very extensive and critical\nstudies, with the intention of publishing a new life of Christ. This\nvolume is the first instalment. It is learned and critical without being\ndry or abstruse. It can be relied on, therefore, for scholarly accuracy,\nand at the same time enjoyed for its literary beauties. The author has\na felicity of diction and a talent for historical narration, which,\ncombined with his solid learning, make him singularly competent for the\nimportant and delightful task he has undertaken and so successfully\ncommenced.\n\n    LIFE OF FATHER HENRY YOUNG. By Lady Georgiana Fullerton.\n    London: Burns & Oates. 1875. (New York: Sold by The Catholic\n    Publication Society.)\n\nThis remarkable and somewhat eccentric priest lived and died in Dublin,\nthough he exercised his apostolic ministry also in many other parts of\nIreland. He was undoubtedly a saint, and in some respects strikingly like\nthe venerable Cur\u00e9 of Ars. The author has written his life in her usual\ncharming style, and it is not only edifying, but extremely curious and\nentertaining.\n\n    THE LILY AND THE CROSS. A Tale of Acadia. By Prof. James De\n    Mille. Boston and New York: Lee & Shepard. 1875.\n\nHere we have a kind of quasi-Catholic tale, written by a Protestant.\nAs a story it has a good deal of stirring incident and dramatic power,\nmingled with a fine spice of humor. The writer shows no unkind or unfair\ndisposition toward Catholics or their religion, and the priest in the\nstory, as a man, is a noble and heroic character. His Catholicity,\nhowever, is too weak even for the most extreme left of liberal Catholics.\n\n    THE VEIL WITHDRAWN (_Le Mot de L\u2019Enigme_). Translated, by\n    permission, from the French of Mme. Craven, author of _A\n    Sister\u2019s Story_, _Fleurange_, etc. New York: The Catholic\n    Publication Society. 1875.\n\nIn its didactic aspects we consider _The Veil Withdrawn_ superior to its\nimmediate predecessor, _Fleurange_, inasmuch as its moral purpose is more\ndecided and apparent; and we believe Mme. Craven has been very opportune\nin the choice of the principal lesson which her book inculcates, as well\nas felicitous in the manner in which it is conveyed. There is perhaps no\nperil to which a frank, confiding young matron is more exposed at the\npresent day than that constituted by the circumstances which formed the\ntemptation of the heroine of this novel, and which she so heroically\novercame. And herein we trust the non-Catholic reader will not fail to\nobserve the safeguard which Catholic principles and the confessional\nthrow around the innocent--warning them of the threatened danger, without\ndetracting from the ingenuousness and simplicity which constitute a chief\ncharm of the sex. We purposely avoid being more specific in our allusion\nto the plot of this story, lest we diminish the pleasure of those who\nhave delayed its perusal until now.\n\n    CALEB KRINKLE. By Charles Carleton Coffin (\u201cCarlton\u201d). Boston\n    and New York: Lee & Shepard. 1875.\n\nThis \u201cStory of American Life,\u201d which would have been more aptly called\na \u201cStory of Yankee Life,\u201d is really capital. Linda Fair, Dan Dishaway,\nand old Peter are excellently-drawn characters, and the others are good\nin their way. The description of the blacksmith and his daughter is like\na paraphrase of Longfellow\u2019s exquisite little poem. The author makes\nuse both of pathos and humor, and although there are rather too many\ndisasters and narrow escapes, yet, on the whole, the story is simple,\nnatural, and life-like, its moral tone is elevated, and it is well worth\nreading.\n\n    POEMS. By William Wilson. Edited by Benson J. Lossing,\n    Poughkeepsie: Archibald Wilson. 1875.\n\nHe is a bold publisher who sends forth a poetical venture in these\nprosaic days, backed though it be by a partial subscription list and the\nfavorable reception of a first edition.\n\nWe are reminded in looking over this volume, as we have often been\nbefore in examining those of the tuneful brethren, how much the world\nis indebted to the church, consciously or otherwise, for its most\nrefined enjoyments. If \u201can undevout astronomer is mad,\u201d how can a poet\u2019s\ninstincts be otherwise than Catholic? Were it not for Catholic themes,\nhe would lack his highest inspiration, as well as appropriate imagery to\nillustrate his thoughts withal. Even that doughty old iconoclast, John\nBunyan--every inch a poet, though his lines were not measured--found\nno relief for his pilgrim-hero till he had looked upon that symbol of\nsymbols--the cross.\n\nThe author of the present collection made no permanent profession of\nliterature, and rarely wrote except when the impulse was too strong to be\nresisted. His impromptu lines were always his best, the Scottish dialect,\nin which many of them are written, adding not a little to their racy\nflavor. His verse is characterized by sweetness, beauty, and strength,\nand he is particularly happy when descanting upon the joys of home, of\nlove and friendship, and the charms of outward nature.\n\nWe are not aware that the author ever made a study of the claims of the\nchurch, and some passages in his poems give evidence of much of the\ntraditional prejudice against her; but we are confident, from other\nindications, that his head was too logical and his heart too large to\nbe shut up within the narrow limits of Presbyterian or other sectarian\ntenets. The final stanza of \u201cThe Close\u201d--the last he ever wrote--is\ntouching and suggestive:\n\n    \u201cAnd his pale hand signing\n      Man\u2019s redemption sign,\n    Cried, with forehead shining,\n      \u2018Father, I am Thine!\u2019\n    And so to rest he quietly hath passed,\n      And sleeps in Christ, the comforter, at last.\u201d\n\n\n\n\nTHE CATHOLIC WORLD.\n\nVOL. XXI., No. 122.--MAY, 1875.\n\nEntered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1875, by Rev. I. T.\nHECKER, in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C.\n\n\nPIUS IX. AND MR. GLADSTONE\u2019S MISREPRESENTATIONS.\n\nThe recent conduct of the Right Honorable William Ewart Gladstone has\nfilled his former friends and admirers with anger and sorrow, and the\nnobler among his enemies with astonishment and pity. He has done much to\nconvert the defeat of the liberal party in Great Britain, which might\nhave been but temporary, into absolute rout and lasting confusion; for\nits return to power is impossible as long as the alienation of the\nIrish Catholic members of Parliament continues. The more generous of\nMr. Gladstone\u2019s political foes cannot but deplore that the once mighty\nopponent, whom they succeeded in driving from office, has, by his own\nbehavior, fallen into something very like contempt. His strictures on\nthe Vatican decrees and the _Speeches_ of Pius IX. possess little merit\nin a literary point of view, being written in the bad style common\nto Exeter Hall controversialists, and being full of inaccuracies,\nmisrepresentations, and oversights. They have accordingly received from\nthe leading critical journals in Great Britain either open censure or\nthat faint praise which is equally damning. The _Pall Mall Gazette_\nobserves that, if Mr. Gladstone goes on writing in a similar strain, no\none will heed what he writes. The wild assault made by him upon Catholics\nis not only perceived by others to be causeless and gratuitous, but is\nfreely confessed by himself to be uncalled for and unwarranted. Speaking\nof the questions, whether the Pope claimed temporal jurisdiction or\ndeposing power, or whether the church still teaches the doctrine of\npersecution, he says in his _Expostulation_ (page 26): \u201cNow, to no one\nof these questions could the answer really be of the smallest immediate\nmoment to this powerful and solidly-compacted kingdom.\u201d Again, in the\n_Quarterly Review_ article (page 300), he asserts that the \u201cburning\u201d\nquestion of the deposing power, \u201cwith reference to the possibilities\nof life and action, remains the shadow of a shade!\u201d Why, then, does\nMr. Gladstone apply the torch to quicken the flame of the burning\ncontroversy, which he affirms to be beyond the range of practical\npolitics? Why does he summon the \u201cshadow of a shade\u201d to trouble, terrify,\nor distress his fellow-countrymen? Has he forgotten the history of\nhis country, which teaches him that these very questions were among\nthose which brought innocent men to the block, and caused multitudes\nto suffer the tortures of the rack and the pains of ignominious death?\nWe read in Hallam (_Constitutional Hist. of England_) that one of the\nearliest novelties of legislation introduced by Henry VIII. was the act\nof Parliament of 1534, by which \u201cit was made high treason to deny that\necclesiastical supremacy of the crown which, till about two years before,\nno one had ever ventured to assert. Bishop Fisher, almost the only\ninflexibly honest churchman of that age, was beheaded for this denial.\u201d\nSir Thomas More met the same fate. Burleigh, in a state paper in which he\napologizes for the illegal employment of torture in Elizabeth\u2019s reign,\nincludes among the questions \u201casked during their torture\u201d of those \u201cput\nto the rack,\u201d the question, \u201cWhat was their own opinion as to the pope\u2019s\nright to deprive the queen of her crown?\u201d In those days, then, the mere\nopinions of Catholics concerning papal supremacy were torturing and\nbeheading questions--questions of the rack, the block, and the stake.\nNow they are \u201cburning\u201d questions, in a metaphorical sense, and lead to\nwordy strife, polemical bitterness, and to widening the breach between\ntwo sections of Queen Victoria\u2019s subjects, which all wise men during\nlate years have deplored and striven to lessen, but which Mr. Gladstone\ndeliberately sets himself to widen.\n\nInto the causes which have provoked Mr. Gladstone to attack Catholics and\nthe Pope it is not necessary to enter. Corrupt or impure motives are not\nimputed to him. Nor is it here intended to discuss the theological part\nof the subject, which has already been exhaustively dealt with by Dr.\nJohn Henry Newman, Archbishop Manning, Bishops Ullathorne, Vaughan, and\nClifford, Monsignor Capel, and others. The aim of the present writer is\nto point out the inaccuracies of Mr. Gladstone in his _Expostulation_ and\nhis _Quarterly Review_ article on the _Speeches_ of Pius IX., to exhibit\nhis general untrustworthiness in his references and quotations, and to\nbring forward the real instead of the travestied sentiments of the Pope.\n\nNow, to honest and fair examination of documents which concern their\nfaith Catholics have no objection. On the contrary, they desire sincerely\nthat Protestants should read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest them.\nNothing but good to the Catholic Church can result from impartial\nstudy of such documents as the Vatican decrees, the _Encyclical_ and\n_Syllabus_ of Pius IX., to which, in his _Expostulation_, Mr. Gladstone\nmade such extensive reference. Catholics give him a cordial assent\nwhen he says: \u201cIt is impossible for persons accepting those decrees\njustly to complain when such documents are subjected in good faith to a\nstrict examination as respects their compatibility with civil right and\nthe obedience of subjects.\u201d But Catholics and all upright Protestants\nmust join in condemning as unjust and unfair that bad habit common to\ncontroversialists of a certain class, who aim at temporary victory\nfor themselves and their party, careless of the interests of eternal\nverity. There are partisan writers who cite portions of a document,\nin the belief that the mass of readers will have no knowledge of the\nentire, and who take extracts hap-hazard from secondary sources, without\ntroubling themselves to search the authentic or original documents.\nWilful inaccuracy and purposed misquotations are not, as has already\nbeen stated, to be imputed to Mr. Gladstone. But it often occurs that\ncarelessness and prejudice lead distinguished writers into errors\nsimilar to those produced by malice, and equally or more detrimental.\nIt so happens that Mr. Gladstone, in describing and quoting the Vatican\ndecrees, the words of Pius IX., the _Syllabus_ and _Encyclical_, has\npublished statements so incorrect and so misleading as to subject the\nauthor, were he less eminent for honor and scrupulous veracity, to the\ncharge either of criminal ignorance or of wilful intention to mislead.\nFor example, he cites, at pages 32-34 of his _Expostulation_, the\nform of the present Vatican decrees as proof of the wonderful \u201cchange\nnow consummated in the constitution of the Latin Church\u201d and of \u201cthe\npresent degradation of its episcopal order.\u201d He says the present Vatican\ndecrees, being promulgated in a strain different from that adopted by\nthe Council of Trent, are scarcely worthy to be termed \u201cthe decrees\nof the Council of the Vatican.\u201d The Trent canons were, he says, real\ncanons of a real council, beginning thus: \u201cH\u00e6c Sacrosancta,\u201d etc.,\n\u201cSynodus,\u201d etc., \u201cdocet\u201d or \u201cstatuit\u201d or \u201cdecernit,\u201d and the like; and\nits canons, \u201cas published in Rome, are _Canones et Decreta Sacrosancti\n\u0152cumenici Concilii Tridentini_, and so forth. But what we have now to\ndo with is the _Constitutio Dogmatica Prima de Ecclesi\u00e2 Christi edita\nin Sessione tertia_ of the Vatican Council. It is not a constitution\nmade by the council, but one promulgated in the council. And who is it\nthat legislates and decrees? It is _Pius Episcopus, servus servorum\nDei_; and the seductive plural of his _docemus et declaramus_ is simply\nthe dignified and ceremonious \u2018we\u2019 of royal declarations. The document\nis dated \u2018Pontificatus nostri Anno XXV.,\u2019 and the humble share of\nthe assembled episcopate in the transaction is represented by _sacro\napprobante concilio_.\u201d Mr. Gladstone, stating that the Trent canons\nare published as _Canones et Decreta Sac. \u0152cum. Concilii Tridentini_,\nand particularizing in a foot-note the place of publication as \u201cRom\u00e6:\nin Collegio urbano de Propaganda Fide, 1833,\u201d leads his readers\nwrongfully to infer that there exists no similar publication of the\nVatican decrees. However, the very first complete edition of the\nVatican decrees, printed especially for distribution to the fathers of\nthe council, bears this title: _Acta et Decreta Sacrosancti \u0152cumenici\nConcilii Vaticani in Quatuor Prioribus Sessionibus--Rom\u00e6 ex Typographia\nVaticana_, 1872. What Mr. Gladstone appears to have quoted are the small\ntracts, containing portions of the decrees, for general use, one of\nwhich is entitled _Dogmatic Constitution concerning the Catholic Faith,\nPublished in the Third Session_, while another is entitled _The First\nDogmatic Constitution of the Church of Christ, Published in the Fourth\nSession_. Mr. Gladstone has not scrupled to take one of these tracts as\nhis text-book, misstating its very title; for he quotes it as \u201cedita in\nsessione tertia\u201d instead of \u201cquarta,\u201d and deriving from it, instead of\nfrom the authentic _Acta et Decreta_, his materials for charging the\ndecrees with a change of form \u201camounting to revolution.\u201d Had the _Acta_\nin their complete version been before him, he could not truthfully have\nsaid \u201cthe humble share of the assembled episcopate in the transaction\nis represented by _sacro approbante concilio_\u201d; for he would have found\nit distinctly stated, and apparently as reason for their confirmation\nby the Pope, that the decrees and canons contained in the constitution\nwere read before, and approved by, all the fathers of the council, with\ntwo exceptions--\u201cDecreta et Canones qui in constitutione modo lecta\ncontinentur, placuerunt patribus omnibus, duobus exceptis, Nosque,\nsacro approbante concilio, illa et illos, ut lecta sunt, definimus\net apostolica auctoritate confirmamus.\u201d Why does Mr. Gladstone call\nattention to the date as being \u201cPontificatus nostri Anno XXV.\u201d? Is it in\norder to show that the Vatican despises the other mode of computation,\nor is it to exhibit his own minute accuracy in quoting? In either case\nMr. Gladstone was wrong, for the date in the _Constitutio Dogmatica_\nbefore him was as follows: \u201cDatum Rom\u00e6, etc., Anno Incarnationis Dominic\u00e6\n1870, die 18 Julii. Pontificatus Nostri, Anno XXV.\u201d And why should Mr.\nGladstone describe as \u201cseductive\u201d the plural of the Pope\u2019s \u201cdocemus et\ndeclaramus,\u201d and assert that plural form to be \u201csimply the dignified\nand ceremonious \u2018We\u2019 of royal declarations\u201d? Did he mean to impute to\nthe use of the plural number a corrupt intention to make people believe\nthat the \u2018we\u2019 included the bishops as well as the Pope? Did he mean also\nto impute to the use of the plural an arrogant affectation of royal\ndignity? If such were the purpose of Mr. Gladstone, it can only be said\nthat such rhetorical artifices are unworthy of him and are not warranted\nby truth. The \u2018we\u2019 is simply the habitual form of episcopal utterances,\nemployed even by Protestant prelates in their official acts. It is\nevident, moreover, that the use of the plural _docemus_ or _declaramus_,\nand the employment of the formula _sacro approbante concilio_, denounced\nby Mr. Gladstone as innovations, have ancient precedents in their favor.\nThe _Acta Synodalia_ of the Eleventh General and Third Lateran Council,\nheld under Pope Alexander III. in 1179, are thus worded: \u201cNos \u2026 de\nconcilio fratrum nostrorum et sacri approbatione concilii \u2026 decrevimus\u201d\nor \u201cstatuimus.\u201d The same form, with trifling variation, was employed in\n1225 by Innocent III. in another General Council, the Fourth Lateran. Mr.\nGladstone thinks \u201cthe very gist of the evil we are dealing with consists\nin following (and enforcing) precedents of the age of Innocent III.,\u201d\nso that it may be useless to cite the General Council of Lyons in 1245,\nunder Innocent IV., with its decrees published in the obnoxious strain,\n\u201c_Innocentius Episcopus, servus servorum Dei, etc., sacro pr\u00e6sente\nconcilio ad rei memoriam sempiternam_.\u201d The language of another General\nCouncil at Lyons, in 1274, under Gregory X., \u201cNos \u2026 sacro approbante\nconcilio, damnamus,\u201d etc., and the language of the Council of Vienne,\nin 1311, under Clement V., \u201cNos sacro approbante concilio \u2026 damnamus\net reprobamus,\u201d come perhaps too near the age of Innocent III. to have\nweight with Mr. Gladstone. But he cannot object on this score to the\nFifth Lateran Council, begun in 1512 under Julius II., and finished in\n1517 under Leo X. In this General Council, the next before that of Trent,\nPope Leo was present in person, and by him, just as by Pius IX., in the\nVatican Council, all the definitions and decrees were made in the strain\nwhich Mr. Gladstone calls innovating and revolutionary, namely, in the\nstyle, \u201cLeo Episcopus servus servorum Dei ad perpetuam rei memoriam,\nsacro approbante concilio.\u201d Leo X. uniformly employed the plural\n_statuimus et ordinamus_ in every session of that council. Pius IX.\nfollowed the example of Leo X., and obeyed precedents set him by popes\nwho presided in person--not by legates, as at Trent--at General Councils\nheld in the years 1179, 1225, 1244, 1274, 1311, and 1517. Accordingly,\n\u201cthe change of form in the present, as compared with other conciliatory\n(_sic_) decrees,\u201d turns out on examination to be no revolution, but, on\nthe contrary, appears to have in its favor precedents the earliest of\nwhich has seven centuries of antiquity. And yet to this alleged change\nof form, and to this alone, Mr. Gladstone appealed in evidence of \u201cthe\namount of the wonderful change now consummated in the constitution of the\nLatin Church\u201d and of \u201cthe present degradation of its episcopal order\u201d!\n\nThe _Encyclical_ and _Syllabus_ of 1864 have been treated by Mr.\nGladstone in the same loose, careless, and unfair way as he treated\nthe Vatican decrees. He promised, at page 15 of his _Expostulation_,\nto \u201cstate, in the fewest possible words and with references, a few\npropositions, all the holders of which have been _condemned_ [the italics\nare Mr. Gladstone\u2019s] by the See of Rome during my own generation, and\nespecially within the last twelve or fifteen years. And in order,\u201d\nso proceeds Mr. Gladstone, \u201cthat I may do nothing towards importing\npassion into what is matter of pure argument, I will avoid citing any\nof the fearfully energetic epithets in which the condemnations are\nsometimes clothed.\u201d The references here given by Mr. Gladstone are to\nthe Encyclical letter of Pope Gregory XVI. in 1831--a date, it may be\nnoticed, rather more ancient than \u201cthe last twelve or fifteen years\u201d--and\nto the following documents, which at page 16 of his pamphlet are thus\ndetailed: The Encyclical \u201cof Pope Pius IX., in 1864\u201d; \u201cEncyclical of Pius\nIX., December 8, 1864\u201d; \u201cSyllabus of March 18, 1861\u201d; and the \u201cSyllabus\nof Pope Pius IX., March 8, 1861.\u201d Here are apparently five documents\ndeliberately referred to, the first an Encyclical of Gregory XVI.; the\nsecond an Encyclical of Pius IX., in 1864; the third another Encyclical\nof Pius IX., dated December 8, 1864; the fourth a Syllabus of March\n18th, 1861; and the fifth another Syllabus of the 8th of March, 1861.\nYet these apparently five documents, to which reference is made by Mr.\nGladstone with so much seeming particularity and exactitude of dates, are\nin reality two documents only, and have but one date--namely, the 8th\nof December, 1864--on which day the _Encyclical_, with the _Syllabus_\nattached, was published by Pius IX. At page 67 of his pamphlet Mr.\nGladstone \u201ccites his originals,\u201d and curiously enough, by a printer\u2019s\nerror, assigns the Encyclical of Gregory XVI. to Gregory XIV. But he\ncites from two sources only--namely, the _Encyclical_ and _Syllabus_ of\n1864. That Encyclical contains a quotation from an Encyclical of Gregory\nXVI., which and the _Syllabus_ are positively the only documents actually\ncited. By a series of blunders, all of which cannot be charged to the\nprinter--and in a work which has arrived at the \u201csixteenth thousand\u201d\nedition printers\u2019 errors are hardly allowable--the two documents, with\ntheir one date, have been made to do duty for five documents, ascribed\ngravely to as many different dates!\n\nMoreover, Mr. Gladstone\u2019s assertion that he will state \u201ca few\npropositions, all the holders of which have been _condemned_ by the Holy\nSee,\u201d is inaccurate, as far as his extracts from the _Encyclical_ and\nthe _Syllabus_--the only documents to which he appeals--are concerned;\nfor in them no \u201cholders\u201d of any propositions are condemned, nor is there\na single anathema directed against any individual. The errors only\nare censured. Mr. Gladstone cannot illustrate any one of his eighteen\npropositions by a single epithet which could with truth be called\n\u201cfearfully energetic.\u201d As a matter of fact, there are no epithets at\nall attached to any condemnations in the eighty propositions of the\n_Syllabus_. When, therefore, Mr. Gladstone professes, in order to do\nnothing \u201ctowards importing passion,\u201d that he will \u201cavoid citing any of\nthe fearfully energetic epithets in which the condemnations are sometimes\nclothed,\u201d he plays a rhetorical trick upon his readers. In truth, had he\nquoted the entire of the _Encyclical_ and _Syllabus_, he would not have\nbeen able to make his hypocritical insinuation that he might have culled,\nif he wished, more damaging extracts. Catholics have to lament, not that\nhe quoted too much, but that he quoted too little; not that he quoted\nwith severe rigor, but that he quoted with absolute unfaithfulness. It is\njustice, not mercy, which Catholics demand from him, and which they ask\nall the more imperatively because he has himself laid down the axiom:\n\u201cExactness in stating truth according to the measure of our intelligence\nis an indispensable condition of justice and of a title to be heard.\u201d\n\nIt was urged by some persons that Mr. Gladstone gave sufficient\nopportunities for correcting the effect of his inaccuracies by publishing\nin an appendix the Latin of the propositions he professed to quote. But\nso glaring is the contrast between the \u201cpropositions\u201d in English and\nthe same in Latin that a writer in the _Civilt\u00e2 Cattolica_ exclaims\nin amazement: \u201cHas he [Mr. Gladstone] misunderstood the Latin of the\nquoted texts? Has he through thoughtlessness travestied the sense? Or\nhas his good faith fallen a victim to the disloyalty of some cunning Old\nCatholics who furnished him with these propositions?\u201d Mr. Gladstone has\nasserted that Pius IX. has condemned \u201cthose who maintain the liberty\nof the press,\u201d \u201cor the liberty of conscience and of worship,\u201d \u201cor the\nliberty of speech.\u201d On referring to the Latin original of these the\nfirst three of his eighteen propositions, it is found that Pius IX. has\ngiven no occasion for such a monstrous assertion. The Pope has merely\ncondemned that species of liberty which every man not a socialist or\ncommunist must from his heart believe worthy of censure. Gregory XVI.\ncalled this vicious sort of liberty by the name of _delirium_, and Pius\nIX., in his _Encyclical_, terms it the \u201cliberty of perdition.\u201d It is\na liberty \u201cespecially pernicious (_maxime exitialem_) to the Catholic\nChurch and the salvation of souls,\u201d and the claim to it is based on the\nerror \u201cthat liberty of conscience and of worship is the proper right\nof every man; that it ought to be proclaimed and asserted by law in\nevery well-constituted society; and that citizens have an inherent\nright to liberty of every kind, not to be restrained by any authority,\necclesiastical or civil, so that they may be able, openly and publicly,\nto manifest and declare their opinions, of whatever kind, by speech, by\nthe press, or by any other means.\u201d Such is the sort of liberty which the\n_Encyclical_ condemns, which is not the general liberty of the press,\nor of conscience and worship, as Mr. Gladstone would have it, but that\nsort of liberty which might be better termed licentiousness--a liberty,\nthat is, which knows no bridle or restraint, whether human or divine,\nand which refuses to be kept in check by any authority, ecclesiastical\nor civil--\u201comnimodam libertatem null\u00e2 vel ecclesiastic\u00e2, vel civili\nauctoritate coarctandam.\u201d The _Expostulation_ has been widely circulated\namong the learned, and also in a sixpenny edition among the masses. It\nis evident that thousands of persons accustomed to entertain a high\nopinion of the veracity of great men in Mr. Gladstone\u2019s position will\ntake his statements upon trust, and never dream of testing, even had they\nthe requisite acquaintance with a dead language, the accuracy of his\ntranslations and quotations. To abuse the confidence of this section of\nthe public is a sin severely to be reprobated.\n\nThe _Speeches of Pius IX_.--which, it would appear, were not read by\nMr. Gladstone until after he wrote the _Expostulation_--have been by\nhim criticised in the _Quarterly Review_ unmercifully and unfairly. He\ndid not take into consideration the circumstance that these speeches\nare not elaborate orations, but are merely the unprepared, unstudied\nutterances of a pontiff so aged as to be termed by the reviewer himself\na \u201cnonagenarian,\u201d borne down with unparalleled afflictions, weighted\nwith innumerable cares, and oppressed with frequent and at times serious\nillnesses. The speeches themselves were not reported _verbatim_ or _in\nextenso_. No professional shorthand writer attended when they were\ndelivered, and they were not spoken with a view to their publication.\nBut every word which comes from the lips of Pius IX. is precious to\nCatholics; and as some of these speeches were taken down by various hands\nand appeared in various periodicals, it was thought proper to allow a\ncollection of them to be formed and published by an ecclesiastic, Don\nPasquale de Franciscis, who himself took notes of the greater number\nof these _Discourses_. This gentleman is described by Mr. Gladstone as\n\u201can accomplished professor of flunkyism in things spiritual,\u201d and one\nof the \u201csycophants\u201d about the Pope who administer to His Holiness \u201can\nadulation, not only excessive in its degree, but of a kind which to an\nunbiassed mind may seem to border on profanity.\u201d Mr. Gladstone is fond\nof insinuating that his own mind is \u201cunbiassed\u201d or \u201cdispassionate,\u201d and\nthat he would by no means \u201cimport passion\u201d into a controversy where calm\nreasoning alone is admissible. But, in point of fact, as the _Pall Mall\nGazette_ has pointed out, he shows himself the bigoted controversialist\ninstead of the grave statesman. Forgetting the genius of the Italian\npeople, and the difference between the warm and impulsive natives of the\nSouth and the phlegmatic Anglo-Saxons; forgetting, also, the literary\ntoadyism of English writers not many years ago, and the apparently\nprofane adulation paid to British sovereigns, he attacks Don Pasquale\nfor calling the book of the Pope\u2019s speeches \u201cdivine,\u201d and accuses him of\ndownright blasphemy. Dr. Newman, in one of his _Lectures on the Present\nPosition of Catholics in England_, has given an humorous account of\nthe way in which foreigners might be induced to believe the laws and\nconstitution of England to be profane and blasphemous. This he did by\nculling out a series of sentences from Blackstone and others, such as\n\u201cthe king can do no wrong,\u201d \u201cthe king never dies,\u201d he is \u201cthe vicar of\nGod on earth.\u201d Thus impeccability, immortality, and omnipotence may be\nclaimed for the British monarch! Moreover, the subjects of James I.\ncalled him \u201cthe breath of their nostrils\u201d; he himself, according to Lord\nClarendon, on one occasion called himself \u201ca god\u201d; Lord Bacon called him\n\u201csome sort of little god\u201d; Alexander Pope and Addison termed Queen Anne\n\u201ca goddess,\u201d the words of the latter writer being: \u201cThee, goddess, thee\nBritannia\u2019s isle adores.\u201d What Dr. Newman did in good-humored irony Mr.\nGladstone does in sober and bitter earnest. He picks out epithets here\nand there, tacking on the expressions of one page to those of another,\nand then flings the collected epithets before his reader as proof of Don\nPasquale\u2019s profanity. The temperament of Italians in the present day\nmay or may not furnish a valid defence, in respect to good taste, for\nDon Pasquale. But it is certain that the phrases used by the latter,\nwhen taken in their context and interpreted as any one familiar with\nItalian ideas would interpret them, afford slight basis for the odious\ncharge of profanity--a charge which Mr. Gladstone urges not only by the\nmeans already pointed out, but by other means still more reprehensible,\nnamely, by fastening on Don Pasquale expressions which he did not employ.\nThus, at page 274 of the _Review_, Mr. Gladstone, in reference to the\n\u201csufferings pretended to be inflicted by the Italian kingdom upon the\nso-called prisoner of the Vatican,\u201d adds, \u201cLet us see how, and with what\ndaring misuse of Holy Scripture, they are illustrated in the authorized\nvolume before us. \u2018He and his august consort,\u2019 says Don Pasquale,\nspeaking of the Comte and Comtesse de Chambord, \u2018were profoundly moved\nat such great afflictions which the Lamb of the Vatican has to endure.\u2019\u201d\nIt seems, in the first place, rather strained to term the application of\nthe word \u201clamb\u201d to Pius IX., or any other person, a \u201cdaring misuse of\nHoly Scripture.\u201d Many a man, when expressing pious hope under disaster,\nexclaims, \u201cThe Lord tempers the wind to the shorn lamb,\u201d using or\nmisusing, as the case may be, not the language of Holy Scripture, but the\nwords of the author of _Tristram Shandy_, to whose works, we believe, the\nepithet \u201choly\u201d is not commonly applied. If Pius IX. had been termed \u201cthe\nlamb of God,\u201d then indeed Holy Scripture might have been used or misused;\nbut the single word \u201clamb,\u201d even in the phrase \u201clamb of the Vatican,\u201d\nis no more an allusion, profane or otherwise, to the Gospels than it is\nto the Rev. Laurence Sterne. In the second place, the expression, be it\nproper or improper, was not used by Don Pasquale. Turning to volume ii.\nof the _Discorsi_, page 545, as Mr. Gladstone directs us, we find the\nwords were not employed by Don Pasquale, but by the writer of an article\nin the _Unit\u00e0 Cattolica_! Pages 545 and 546, the pages cited, contain\na notice of the presentation to the Comte and Comtesse de Chambord of\nthe first volume of the _Discorsi_; for the article is dated in 1872,\nand the second volume was not printed until 1873. So that it appears\nthe naughty word was not only not used by Don Pasquale, but did not in\nreality form part of the \u201cauthorized volume,\u201d being merely found in\na newspaper extract inserted in an appendix. In this same newspaper\nextract the Comtesse de Chambord is said to have called the first volume\nof the _Discorsi_ \u201ca continuation of the Gospels and the Acts of the\nApostles.\u201d This statement rests on the authority of the writer in the\n_Unit\u00e0 Cattolica_, but is brought up in judgment not only against Don\nPasquale, but against the Pope himself, who is held by Mr. Gladstone\nto be responsible for everything stated either by Don Pasquale in his\npreface or by any other persons in the appendices to the _Discorsi_!\n\nConcerning the Pope, Mr. Gladstone, at page 299 of the _Review_, thus\nwrites: \u201cWhether advisedly or not, the Pontiff does not, except once\n(vol. i. 204), apply the term [infallible] to himself, but is in other\nplaces content with alleging his superiority, as has been shown above,\nto an inspired prophet, and with commending those who come to hear his\nwords as words proceeding from Jesus Christ (i. 335).\u201d At page 268 of\nthe _Review_ it is also said that Don Pasquale, in his preface, p. 17,\ncalls the voice of Pius IX. \u201cthe voice of God,\u201d and that the Pope is\n\u201cnature that protests\u201d and \u201cGod that condemns.\u201d If, however, in order\nto test the worth of these assertions of Mr. Gladstone, we turn to the\npassages he has cited, it will be discovered that Pius IX. did not even\nonce apply the term infallible to himself; for he, in the passage cited,\napplied it not to himself individually, but to the infallible judgment\n(_giudizio infallibile_) in principles of revelation, as contrasted\nwith the authoritative right of popes in general. Nor did Pius IX.\nassert any \u201csuperiority to an inspired prophet\u201d by saying (_Review_,\np. 276, _Discorsi_, vol. i. 366): \u201cI have the right to speak even more\nthan Nathan the prophet to David the king.\u201d The right to speak upon a\ncertain occasion does not surely contain of necessity an allegation of\nsuperiority nor imply a claim to inspiration! Nor did Pius IX. commend\n\u201cthose who came to hear his words as words proceeding from Jesus Christ\u201d;\nfor he merely said, in reply to a deputation: \u201cI answer with the church;\nand the church herself supplies to me the words in the Gospel for this\nmorning. You are here, and have put forth your sentiments; but you desire\nalso to hear the word of Jesus Christ as it issues from the mouth of his\nVicar.\u201d That is to say: You shall have for answer \u201cthe word of Jesus\nChrist\u201d--meaning this day\u2019s Gospel--spoken by, or as it issues from, or\nwhich proceeds (_che esce_) out of, the mouth of his Vicar. The words,\n\u201cHe is nature that protests, he is God that condemns,\u201d are evidently\nmetaphorical expressions of the editor, harmless enough; for, as Pius IX.\ncannot be both God and nature literally, the metaphorical application is\napparent to the meanest comprehension. It is true that Don Pasquale, in\nhis preface, page 16, ascribes to Pius IX. this language: \u201cThis voice\nwhich now sounds before you is the voice of Him whom I represent on\nearth\u201d (_la VOCE di colui che in terra Io rappresento_); but, turning\nto Don Pasquale\u2019s reference (vol. i. p. 299) to verify the quotation,\nit is found that the editor made a serious mistake, by which the entire\ncharacter of the passage was altered. The Pope had just contrasted\nhimself (the _vox clamantis de Vaticano_) with John the Baptist (the\n_vox clamantis in deserto_). \u201cYes,\u201d he adds, \u201cI may also call myself\nthe Voice; for, although unworthy, I am yet the Vicar of Christ, and\nthis voice which now sounds before you is the voice of him who in earth\nrepresents him\u201d (_\u00e8 la voce di colui, che in terra lo rappresenta_). Don\nPasquale imprudently put the word \u201cvoce\u201d in capital letters, changed \u201clo\u201d\ninto \u201cIo,\u201d and \u201crappresenta\u201d into \u201crappresento.\u201d The Pope simply said\nthat his voice, as it cried from the Vatican, was the voice of the Vicar\nof Christ. And in the belief of all Catholics so it is.\n\nThe charge of \u201ctruculence\u201d is brought against the Pope by Mr. Gladstone.\n\u201cIt is time to turn,\u201d he says (_Review_, p. 277), \u201cwith whatever\nreluctance, to the truculent and wrathful aspect which unhappily prevails\nover every other in these _Discourses_.\u201d The first proof of this\n\u201ctruculence\u201d is, it seems, the fact that the \u201c_cadres_, or at least the\nskeletons and relics of the old papal government over the Roman states,\nare elaborately and carefully maintained.\u201d One would suppose that these\n_cadres_ were maintained with the bloodthirsty intention of making war on\nVictor Emanuel. But Mr. Gladstone does not say so; nay, he insinuates in\na foot-note that their maintenance is for a purpose far from truculent.\n\u201cWe have seen it stated from a good quarter,\u201d so Mr. Gladstone writes,\n\u201cthat no less than three thousand persons, formerly in the papal\nemployment, now receive some pension or pittance from the Vatican.\nDoubtless they are expected to be forthcoming on all occasions of great\ndeputations, as they may be wanted, like the _supers_ and dummies at\nthe theatres.\u201d It appears from the _Discorsi_ that the Pope received in\naudience deputations from the persons formerly in the papal employment on\ntwenty-one occasions, between September, 1870, and September, 1873. On\nfourteen of these occasions the _impiegati_ were received on days when\nno other deputations attended. On the other occasions, although other\ndeputations were received on the same days, the ex-employees were never\nmixed up with other deputations, but were always placed in separate rooms\nfor audience. Mr. Gladstone has not the least ground for insinuating that\nthese unfortunate persons, who refused to take the oath of allegiance\nto Victor Emanuel, and thereby forfeited employment and pay, were ever\ncalled upon like _supers_ or dummies to make a show at great deputations.\nIf these ex-employees receive pay from the Pope, it surely is no proof\nof papal \u201ctruculence.\u201d But \u201cnone of these,\u201d so asserts Mr. Gladstone\n(_Review_, p. 278), \u201cappear at the Vatican as friends, co-religionists,\nas receivers of the Pontiff\u2019s alms, or in any character which could be\nof doubtful interpretation. They appear as being actually and at the\nmoment his subjects and his military and civil servants respectively,\nalthough only in _disponibilit\u00e0_, or, so to speak, on furlough; they are\nheaded by the proper leading functionaries, and the Pope receives them as\npersons come for the purpose of doing homage to their sovereign.\u201d The\nreferences given for this somewhat confused statement are pages 88 and\n365 of volume i., where the Pope very naturally speaks of \u201cthe fidelity\nshown by them to their sovereign,\u201d and of their \u201cfaith, constancy, and\nattachment to religion, to God, and to the Vicar of Jesus Christ, their\nsovereign.\u201d It was in consequence of the introduction by Victor Emanuel,\ninto the several government departments in Rome, of an oath of allegiance\nto the head of the state--an oath not demanded previously under the Papal\nrule--that these _impiegati_ resigned their situations, their consciences\nnot permitting them to take the oath. It was no wonder, then, that Pius\nIX. should notice their fidelity to himself. But he makes no assertion\nwhatever to the effect that these civil and military servants are merely\non furlough or in _disponibilit\u00e0_. That they do appear as pensioners\non the bounty of Pius IX. may be proved, in spite of Mr. Gladstone\u2019s\ndenial, by reference to the _Discorsi_, at pages 38, 50, 99, 182, 235,\n308, 460, and 472 of volume i. and pages 25, 38, and 122 of volume\nii. It cannot be expected that we should quote all these passages at\nlength, but we will quote a few of them. The ex-civil servants, on 13th\nJuly, 1872, approached His Holiness to express \u201ctheir sincere devotion\nand gratitude for what he had done for their sustentation and comfort\nunder most distressing circumstances.\u201d The police officials, seven days\nafterwards, were introduced by Mgr. Randi; and one of them, the Marquis\nPio Capranica, read an address, in which the persons whom Mr. Gladstone\ncalls \u201cthe scum of the earth\u201d (_Review_, p. 278) thank the Pope for\nextending to them and their \u201cfamilies his fatherly munificence.\u201d On the\n27th of December, 1871, the ex-military officials, through Gen. Kanzler,\nlaid at the foot of the Pope their protestations of unalterable fidelity,\ntheir prayers for the prolongation of his life, and their gratitude for\nhis generosity in alleviating the distress and misery of many families\nof his former soldiers. But perhaps the \u201ctruculence\u201d of Pius IX. may be\ndiscovered, if not in his compassion and generosity to his ex-servants,\nat least in his admonitions to them to furbish up their arms and keep\ntheir powder dry. Mr. Gladstone asserts (_Review_, p. 297) that \u201cblood\nand iron\u201d are \u201cin contemplation at the Vatican.\u201d \u201cNo careful reader of\nthis authoritative book (the _Speeches_) can doubt that these are the\nmeans by which the great Christian pastor contemplates and asks--ay, asks\nas one who should think himself entitled to command--the re-establishment\nof his power in Rome.\u201d Now, the Pope can ask or command this \u201cblood and\niron\u201d assistance from none so well as from his ex-soldiers, and from the\ncivil and military officials still loyal to their chief. It happens,\nhowever, that no \u201ccareful reader\u201d of the Pope\u2019s speeches to his former\nsoldiers or servants can discover a trace of this \u201ctruculent\u201d purpose\nof His Holiness. He rarely mentions a weapon; but when he does, it is\nto remind his audience (as at p. 197, vol. i.) that \u201cwe must not combat\nwith material weapons, but spiritually--that is to say, with united\nprayers.\u201d He reminds some young soldiers (vol. i. p. 69) that \u201cprayer is\nthe terrible weapon for use specially in the actual grievous condition of\naffairs, by which weapon alone can the complete triumph of the church and\nreligion be obtained.\u201d When he would place before some of his faithful\ncivil servants the example of the \u201cHebrews when rebuilding Jerusalem,\nwho held in one hand the working tools and in the other the sword to\ncombat the enemy,\u201d he warns them to imitation by means of \u201cprayer on the\none side, and constancy on the other\u201d (vol. i. p. 475). Prayer is the\nburden of his advice on all these occasions. \u201c_Sursum corda!_ Lift up\nthe thought and the heart to God, from whom only we can expect comfort,\nhelp, counsel, or protection now and always\u201d (vol. ii. p. 25). \u201cThey\nhave imagined,\u201d says the Pontiff to the Marquis Pio Capranica and other\nex-functionaries of the Police Department (vol. ii. p. 36), \u201cthat we wish\nto cause an armed reaction! To think this is folly, and to assert it\nis calumny. I have made known to all persons that the reaction which I\ndesire is this: namely, to have people who can protect youth, and provide\nfor the good education of the young in the principles of faith, morality,\nhonesty, and respect towards the church and her ministers. This is the\nreaction which now and always I will say is our desire. As for the rest,\nGod will do that which he wills. Great reactions are not in my hands,\nbut in His upon whom all depends.\u201d There is one passage cited by Mr.\nGladstone to show that the Pope would \u201ctake the initiative,\u201d if he could,\nand lead his troops to battle. It occurs in a speech addressed to Gen.\nKanzler and the officers of the late pontifical army, and may be found in\nvol. ii. pages 141 and 142. The Pope says at the beginning of his speech,\n\u201cYou are come, soldiers of honor, attached to this Holy See and constant\nin the exercise of your duties, to present yourselves before me; but you\ncome without arms, proving thereby how sad are the present times. Oh!\nwould I also could obey that voice of God which many ages ago said to a\npeople, Transform your ploughs and plough-shares and your instruments of\nhusbandry into spears and swords and implements of war; for the enemies\nare advancing, and there is need of many weapons and of many armed men.\nWould that God would to-day repeat those same inspirations even unto us.\nBut God is silent, and I, his Vicar, cannot do aught in distinction from\nhim, and cannot do aught save keep silence.\u201d The foregoing paragraph has\nundoubtedly a warlike sound, and is of course quoted by Mr. Gladstone;\nbut it is immediately followed by another passage which takes from it\nall its force, and which is not quoted by Mr. Gladstone: \u201cAnd I will\nparticularly add that I could never desire to authorize an augmentation\nof arms, because, as Vicar of the God of Peace, who came on earth to\nbring peace to us, I am bound to sustain all the rights of peace, which\nis the fairest gift which God can give to this earth.\u201d\n\nMr. Gladstone notices \u201cthe Pope\u2019s wealth of vituperative power,\u201d and\nrefers to various passages for illustrations. A string of references\nlooks convincing, but it has been already shown how little reliance can\nbe placed on Mr. Gladstone in this respect. He who takes the pains to\nverify these references will find Pius IX. has indeed used hard language,\nnot only towards the Italian government or Victor Emanuel, but towards\ninsidious proselytizers and bad and immoral teachers, spectacles,\nand publications. But is Mr. Gladstone an unprejudiced judge of the\npropriety of the pontifical expressions? The late British premier thinks\nfavorably of Victor Emanuel, and imagines Rome to be much improved\nby the entrance of the Italians. He thinks the Pope \u201cknows nothing\nexcept at second-hand, nothing except as he is prompted by the blindest\npartisans.\u201d But Mr. Gladstone himself is the infallible authority. He\nhas sought and produced, of course from impartial sources, statistics to\nshow that crime has greatly diminished since the termination of the papal\n_r\u00e9gime_. The Gladstonian statistics, of course, refute the statements\nof the Pope, and also, as it happens, those of the law officers of the\ncrown in Italy, one of whom, Ghiglieri, when lately opening the legal\nyear with an elaborate speech, enlarged on the increasing prevalence of\ncrime in the Roman province since 1870--that is, since Rome became the\ncapital. Every visitor at Rome since that date knows that \u201cflower-girls\u201d\nand other girls have only since 1870 been permitted to infest the Corso\nand theatres, and that Rome, though not yet as bad as Paris or London\nin respect to ostensible immorality, is rapidly advancing to equality\nin vice with rival capitals. But Mr. Gladstone is not averse to vice in\ncertain quarters. He calls the blind Duke of Sirmoneta \u201cable, venerable,\nand highly cultivated,\u201d and contrasts him (with perfect accuracy, but\nrather scandalously) with the other members of the Roman aristocracy,\nwho, according to Edmond About, have not even vice to recommend them. The\nCarnival of 1875 in Rome is itself an illustration of the progress of\nvice and of crime in what Mr. Gladstone calls the \u201corderly and national\nItalian kingdom.\u201d\n\nThere is but space left to us to notice the deposing power, \u201cthe most\nfamiliar to Englishmen\u201d of all the \u201cburning questions.\u201d And the best\nway to notice this question is to set before our readers the _ipsissima\nverba_ of Pius IX. on the subject (as far as a translation can pretend\nto supply them) from the famous speech to the Academia di Religione\nCattolica on July 20, 1871. The Pope said:\n\n\u201cBut amid the variety of themes presented to you, one seems to me at\npresent of great importance, and this is to repel the attacks by which\nthey try to falsify the idea of the Pontifical Infallibility. Among\nother errors, that one is more than all others malicious which would\nattribute to it the right to depose sovereigns and release nations from\nthe bond of fidelity. This right, without doubt, was sometimes in extreme\ncircumstances exercised by pontiffs; but it has nothing to do with the\nPontifical Infallibility. Nor is its source the infallibility, but the\npontifical authority. The exercise, moreover, of this right, in those\nages of faith which respected in the pope that which he is--namely,\nthe Supreme Judge of Christianity--and recognized the advantages of\nhis tribunal in the great contests of peoples and sovereigns, freely\nwas extended (aided, also, as a duty, by the public right and by the\ncommon consent of the nations) to the gravest interests of states and\nof their rulers. But the present conditions are entirely different from\nthose, and only malice can confound things so diverse--as, for instance,\nthe infallible judgment concerning the principles of revelation--with\nthe right which the popes exercised in virtue of their authority when\nthe common good demanded it. As for the rest, they know it better than\nwe, and every one can perceive the reason why they raise at present a\nconfusion of ideas so absurd and bring upon the field hypotheses to\nwhich no one gives heed. They beg, that is, every pretext, even the most\nfrivolous and the furthest from truth, provided it be suited to give us\nannoyance and to excite princes against the church. Some persons wished\nthat I should explain and make more clear the conciliar definition. This\nI will not do. It is clear in itself, and has no need of further comments\nand explanations. Its true sense presents itself easily and obviously to\nwhoever reads the decree with a dispassionate mind.\u201d\n\nDoubtless the deposing power is one of the \u201crusty tools\u201d which Rome,\naccording to Mr. Gladstone, has \u201crefurbished and paraded anew.\u201d But\nwhat man with a dispassionate mind can read the authentic version of\nthe words put by Mr. Gladstone incorrectly before the public without\ncoming to the conclusion that the \u201crefurbishing and parading anew\u201d of the\ndeposing power is altogether a creation of Mr. Gladstone\u2019s \u201cbrain-power,\u201d\nand that Pius IX., so far from showing a disposition to employ again\n\u201cthe rusty tool,\u201d actually manifests an intention to undervalue it and\nlay it aside? Some persons would \u201crefurbish\u201d up the deposing power by\nconnecting it with infallibility, and the Pope denounces their attempt as\nabsurd and malicious. The abstract right of pontiffs to depose princes\nand release subjects from allegiance is referred by Pius IX. not to the\ninfallibility which would give it new lustre, but to the pontifical\nauthority, which in olden time was strong and powerful, but which at\npresent is scarcely recognized by the kingdoms of the world. The exercise\nof this right is delicately touched upon, in such a way as to suggest not\nthe least disposition to resume the right by putting it in practice. It\nwas indeed \u201csometimes, in extreme circumstances\u201d--_talvolta in supreme\ncircostanze_--exercised by popes in those times when the pontiff was\nacknowledged \u201cthe Supreme Judge of Christianity,\u201d and when the Holy See,\nby the common consent of nations, was the tribunal to which appeal was\nmade in the great contests of sovereigns and nations. Then indeed this\nright was extended to \u201cthe gravest interests of nations and of rulers\u201d;\nbut now all is different--\u201caflatto diverse.\u201d So far from \u201cparading anew\u201d\nthe abstract right, and \u201cfurbishing\u201d it up for present use, the Holy\nFather indignantly repudiates the malicious allegation by declaring that\nthe right itself was but seldom exercised in ancient times, and then\nonly under special conditions such as are not likely to be found in\nmodern days. \u201cHypotheses\u201d may of course be imagined by those who wish\n\u201cto give annoyance and excite princes against the church.\u201d But these\n\u201chypotheses,\u201d as the Pope remarks, are not serious. No one pays heed\nor attention to them. They are \u201cipotesi, alle quali niuno pensa.\u201d The\nlimits of the obedience of subjects to sovereigns are clearly set forth\nby Pius IX. in his address to an Austrian deputation on the 18th of June,\n1871. \u201cSubmission and respect to authority are the principal duties of\ntruly good subjects. But at the same time I must remind you,\u201d says the\nPope, \u201cthat your obedience and fidelity have a limit to be observed.\nBe faithful to the sovereign whom God has given to you, and obey the\nlaws which govern you; but when necessity calls, let your obedience and\nfidelity not advance beyond, but be arrested at, the steps of the altar.\u201d\nYou have \u201cduties to the laws as subjects, and to your consciences as\nChristians.\u201d \u201cUnite these duties well, and let your supreme rule be the\nholy law of God and his church.\u201d The state of mind of that man who can\nfind nothing in the _Speeches of Pius IX._ save matter for ridicule,\nsarcasm, and invective is not to be envied. It reminds one of the phrase\nemployed in the consistorial \u201c_processus_\u201d for the appointment of a\nbishop to a diocese in which heretics usurped the churches and impeded\nthe profession and practice of true religion: _Illius status potius est\ndeplorandus quam recensendus_--It is a condition which is rather to be\ndeplored than described.\n\n\nTHE BATH OF THE GOLDEN ROBIN.\n\n    The sun beams over Laurelside\n      To Ana-lo-mink water,\n    And nature smiles in rural pride\n      At all the gifts he brought her.\n\n    The merry greenwood branches hold\n      More cheer than castle\u2019s rafter,\n    The gurgling river ne\u2019er is old\n      With sly and mellow laughter.\n\n    How welcome is the soothing sound\n      Of mingling water speeding\n    O\u2019er pebbly bed with laugh and bound,\n      Through wooded banks receding!\n\n    Ah! pleasant \u2019tis to close one\u2019s eyes,\n      And let the murmurous measure\n    With liquid tones of gay surprise\n      Fill up the fancy\u2019s pleasure.\n\n    But ere my hooded eyes could wake\n      Sweet fancy\u2019s happy scheming,\n    Came Robin Oriole to break\n      My sleepless, dulcet dreaming.\n\n    For Rob outshines the glowing day,\n      And in the sun\u2019s dominions\n    Seems like a ball of fire at play\n      On elfin sable pinions.\n\n    He glints the orchard\u2019s dropping dew,\n      Illumes the maple\u2019s mazes,\n    Dispels the pine-shade passing through,\n      And in the sunshine blazes!\n\n    And sweeping to a mossy bank,\n      The wings the flame deliver\n    Where fern-encloister\u2019d pebbles flank\n      An eddy from the river.\n\n    Here, by the stream-indented path,\n      As master Rob did spy it,\n    Thought he, What chance for Sunday bath!\n      So tempting, cool, and quiet.\n\n    He quaintly eyed the little pool,\n      And hopt so self-confiding,\n    And peek\u2019d around, like boy from school,\n      To see none near were hiding.\n\n    Then, list\u2019ning, seem\u2019d to mark the tone\n      Made by the eddies\u2019 patter;\n    But bravely sprang upon a stone,\n      And plunged with splash and spatter.\n\n    The bath came only to his knees,\n      But, ducking as he flutters,\n    Against his throat the water sprees,\n      And round his body sputters.\n\n    It leapt in bubbles, as his crest\n      And wings were merrily toiling;\n    You\u2019d think his ruffled, fiery breast\n      Had set the water boiling.\n\n    He stopt short in his merry ways\n      As coy as any lady,\n    And, flutt\u2019ring, sent a diamond haze\n      Around his bath so shady.\n\n    Then popt out on the olive moss\n      So softly deep and luscious;\n    Then skimm\u2019d the blue-eyed flow\u2019rs across,\n      And perch\u2019d within the bushes.\n\n    He perk\u2019d his head like dandy prig,\n      Now feeling fine and fresher;\n    And took the air upon a twig,\n      That scarcely felt his pressure.\n\n    Full suddenly he scann\u2019d his shank,\n      As though he had not reckon\u2019d\n    One dip enough, flew to the bank,\n      And gayly took a second!\n\n    Oh! how the jolly fellow dashed\n      The little waves asunder!\n    Dove in his head and breast, and splashed\n      His pinion-feathers under.\n\n    Then standing up, as though to rest,\n      He looked around discreetly;\n    Again with zest the pool caress\u2019d,\n      And made his bath completely.\n\n    Out hopt he where the sun-fed breeze\n      Came streamward warmly tender--\n    A brilliant prince of Atomies\n      Amid this mountain splendor.\n\n    Oh, balmy is the mountain air\n      Of May with sunlight in it!\n    And blest is he from town-wrought care\n      Who can in greenwood win it.\n\n    But sun on Robin\u2019s radiant coat,\n      All drench\u2019d, he fear\u2019d might spoil it,\n    So to an alder grove did float\n      To make his feathery toilet.\n\n    He pick\u2019d his wings and smoothed his neck,\n      Arranged his vest\u2019s carnation,\n    And flew out without stain or speck\n      To dazzle all creation!\n\n\nARE YOU MY WIFE?\n\nBY THE AUTHOR OF \u201cA SALON IN PARIS BEFORE THE WAR,\u201d \u201cNUMBER THIRTEEN,\u201d\n\u201cPIUS VI.,\u201d ETC\n\nCHAPTER IV.\n\n\u201cHere you are, you naughty little maiden, gadding about the country\nwhen I want you to be at home to talk to me!\u201d exclaimed Sir Simon, as\nFranceline burst into the cottage full of her little adventure. \u201cWhere\nhave you been all this time?\u201d\n\n\u201cOnly to see Miss Merrywig, and then I came home by the fields.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd was any poor mortal lucky enough to meet you coming through the\nrye?\u201d inquired Sir Simon facetiously.\n\nFranceline didn\u2019t see the point a bit; but she blushed as if she did, and\nSir Simon was not the man to let her off.\n\n\u201cOh! so that\u2019s it, is it? Come, now, and tell me all about it,\u201d he said,\ndrawing her to a low seat beside his arm-chair, the only one in the\nestablishment, and which his host always insisted on his taking. \u201cYou\nmust let me into the secret; it\u2019s very shabby of you to have got one\nwithout consulting me. Who is he, and where did you meet him?\u201d\n\n\u201cOne is Mr. Charlton,\u201d replied Franceline na\u00efvely; \u201cbut I don\u2019t know who\nthe other is. I never saw him before. Tell me who he is, monsieur?\u201d\n\n\u201cTell you! Well, upon my word, you are a pretty flirt! You don\u2019t even\nknow his name! A very nice young lady!\u201d\n\n\u201cIs he a Frenchman, monsieur? I think he must be from the way he bowed.\nIs he a friend of yours? Nobody else knows Frenchmen here but you. Do\ntell me who he is.\u201d\n\n\u201cHe\u2019s not a Frenchman,\u201d said Sir Simon, \u201cand he\u2019ll never forgive you for\nmistaking him for one, I can tell you. If you were a man, he would run\nyou through the body for it just as soon as he\u2019d look at you!\u201d\n\n\u201cMon Dieu!\u201d cried Franceline, opening her eyes wide with wonder, \u201cthen\nI don\u2019t care to know any more about him. I hope I shall never see him\nagain.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, but you shall, though, and I\u2019ll take care to tell him,\u201d declared\nSir Simon.\n\n\u201cWhat is it? What is it?\u201d called out M. de la Bourbonais, looking up from\na letter that he was writing against time to catch the post. \u201cWhat are\nyou both quarrelling about again?\u201d\n\n\u201cPetit p\u00e8re, monsieur is so unkind and so disagreeable!\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd Mlle. Franceline is so cruel and so inquisitive!\u201d\n\n\u201cHe won\u2019t tell me who that strange gentleman is, petit p\u00e8re. Canst thou\ntell me?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! ho! I thought we didn\u2019t care to know!\u201d laughed Sir Simon with a\nmischievous look.\n\n\u201cTell me, petit p\u00e8re!\u201d said Franceline, ignoring her tormentor\u2019s taunt;\nand going up to her father, she laid her head coaxingly against his.\n\nHe looked at her for a moment with a strange expression, and then said,\nhalf speaking to himself, while he stroked her hair, \u201cWhat can it matter\nto thee? What is one strange face more or less to thee or me?\u201d Then\nturning to Sir Simon, who was enjoying the sight of the young girl\u2019s\ninnocent curiosity, and perhaps revolving possible eventualities in his\nbuoyant mind, the count said, \u201cWho is it, Harness?\u201d\n\n\u201cHow do I know?\u201d retorted his friend. \u201cA strange gentleman that bows like\na Frenchman is not a very lucid indication.\u201d\n\n\u201cI met him coming out of your gate, walking with Mr. Charlton,\u201d explained\nFranceline. \u201cHe\u2019s taller than Mr. Charlton--as tall as you, monsieur--and\nhe wore a moustache like a Frenchman. I never saw any one like him in\nEngland.\u201d\n\nFranceline\u2019s recollections of France were mostly rather dim, but, like\nthe memories of childhood, those that survived were very vivid.\n\n\u201cIf he must be a Frenchman, I can make nothing out of it,\u201d said Sir Simon.\n\n\u201cVoyons, Harness,\u201d laughed the count, \u201cdon\u2019t be too unmerciful! Curiosity\nin a woman once led to terrible consequences.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, I\u2019ll tell you who he is In fact, I came here to-day on purpose to\ntell you, and to ask when I could bring him to see you. He\u2019s the nephew\nof my old school-chum, De Winton, a very nice fellow, but not the least\nlike a Frenchman, whatever his bow and his moustache may say to the\ncontrary.\u201d\n\n\u201cDo you mean Clide De Winton, the poor young fellow who \u2026?\u201d\n\n\u201cPrecisely,\u201d replied Sir Simon; \u201che\u2019s been a rover on the face of the\nearth for the last eight or nine years. This is the first time I\u2019ve seen\nhim since I said good-by to him on the steamer at Marseilles, and met\nyou on my way back. He\u2019s been all over the world since then, I believe.\nYou\u2019ll find he has plenty to say for himself, and his French is number\none.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd the admiral--is he with him?\u201d inquired Raymond.\n\n\u201cI\u2019m expecting him down to-morrow. How long is it since you saw him?\u201d\n\n\u201cH\u00e9!\u2026 let us not count the years, mon cher! We were all young then.\u201d\n\n\u201cWe\u2019re all young now,\u201d protested the hearty baronet. \u201cMen of our time of\nlife never grow old; it\u2019s only these young ones that can afford that sort\nof thing,\u201d nodding toward Franceline, who, since she found her Frenchman\nwas no Frenchman, appeared to have lost all interest in him, and was\nbusily tidying her father\u2019s table. \u201cAs to the admiral, he\u2019s younger than\never he was. By the way, I don\u2019t intend to let him cut me out with a\ncertain young lady; so let me see no flirtation in that quarter. I\u2019ll not\nstand it. Do you hear me, Miss Franceline?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d was the laconic rejoinder, and she went on fixing some loose\npapers in a letter-press.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\u201cYes, Monsieur le Comte is at home; but, as monsieur knows, he never\nlikes to be disturbed at this hour,\u201d replied Ang\u00e9lique, who was knitting\nthe family stockings in the wee summer-house at the end of the garden.\n\n\u201cOh! I\u2019ll answer for it he won\u2019t mind being disturbed this time,\u201d said\nSir Simon. \u201cTell him it\u2019s his old friend, the admiral, who wants to see\nhim.\u201d\n\nBefore Ang\u00e9lique had got her needles under way and risen, a cry of\njubilant welcome sounded from the closed shutters of the little room\nwhere the count was hard at work in the dark. \u201cMon cher De Vinton! how it\nrejoices me to embrace you.\u201d And the Frenchman was in his friend\u2019s arms\nin a minute. \u201cMy good Ang\u00e9lique, this is one of our eldest friends! Where\nis mademoiselle? Fetch her on the instant! Mon cher De Vinton.\u201d\n\nThe four gentlemen--for Clide was there--went laughing and shaking hands\ninto the house, and groped their way as best they could into Raymond\u2019s\nstudy. He had the sensible foreign habit of keeping the shutters closed\nto exclude the heat, and the admiral nearly fell over a stool in\nscrambling for a chair.\n\n\u201cMy dear Bourbonais, we\u2019re none of us bats, and darkness isn\u2019t a help\nto the flow of soul,\u201d said Sir Simon; \u201cso, by your leave, I\u2019ll throw a\nlittle light on the subject.\u201d And he pushed back the shutter.\n\nBefore their eyes had recovered the blinding shock of the light coming\nsuddenly on the darkness, a light foot was pattering down the stairs,\nand Franceline glided into the room. The effect was very much as if a\nlily had sprouted up from the carpet. An involuntary \u201cGod bless my soul!\u201d\nbroke from the admiral, and Clide started to his feet. \u201cMy daughter,\nmessieurs,\u201d said M. de la Bourbonais, with a sudden touch of the courtier\nin his manner, as he took her by the hand, and presented her to them\nboth. Franceline bowed to the young man, and held out her hand to the\nelder one. The admiral, with an unwonted impulse of gallantry, raised\nit to his lips, and then held it in both his own, looking steadily into\nher face with an open stare of fatherly admiration. He had seen many\nlovely women in his day, and, if report spoke true, the brave sailor\nhad been a very fair judge of the charms of the gentler sex; but he had\nnever seen anything the least like this. Perhaps it was the unexpected\ncontrast of the picture with the frame that took him so much by surprise\nand heightened the effect; but, whatever it was, he was completely taken\naback, and stood looking at it speechless and bewildered.\n\n\u201cDo you mean to tell me that this wild rose belongs to _him_?\u201d he said\nat last, addressing himself to Sir Simon, and with an aggressive nod\nat Raymond, as if he suspected him of having pilfered the article in\nquestion, and were prepared to do battle for the rightful owner.\n\n\u201cHe says so,\u201d averred the baronet cautiously.\n\n\u201cHe may say what he likes,\u201d declared the admiral, \u201cmy belief is that he\npurloined it out of some fairy\u2019s garden.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd my belief is that you purloined that!\u201d snubbed Sir Simon. \u201cYou never\nhad as much poetry in you as would inspire a fly; had he, Clide?\u201d\n\nRaymond rubbed his spectacles, and put them on again--his usual way of\ndisposing of an awkward situation, and which just now helped to conceal\nthe twinkle of innocent paternal vanity that was dancing in his gray eyes.\n\n\u201cNo, you usedn\u2019t to be much of a poet when I knew you, De Vinton,\u201d he\nsaid.\n\n\u201cNo more he is now,\u201d asserted the baronet. \u201cWhat do you say, Clide?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe most prosaic of us may become poets under a certain pressure of\ninspiration,\u201d replied the young man, with an imperceptible movement of\nhis head in the direction of Franceline, who blushed under the speech\njust enough to justify the admiral\u2019s wild-rose simile. She drew her hand\nlaughingly away from his, and then, when everybody had found a seat, she\npushed her favorite low stool close to her father\u2019s chair, and sat down\nby his knee.\n\nThe friends had a great deal to say to each other, although the presence\nof Clide and Sir Simon prevented their touching on certain episodes of\nthe past that were brought vividly to Raymond\u2019s mind by the presence\nof one whom he had not seen since they had taken place. This kept all\npainful subjects in the background; and in spite of a wistful look in\nRaymond\u2019s eyes, as if the sailor\u2019s weather-beaten face were calling up\nthe ghost of by-gone days--joys that had lived their span and died,\nand sorrow that was not dead, but sleeping--he kept up the flow of\nconversation with great animation. Meanwhile, the two young people\nwere pushed rather outside the circle. Clide, instead of entering on\na _t\u00eate-\u00e0-t\u00eate_, as it was clearly his right and his duty to do, kept\nholding on by the fringe of his uncle\u2019s talk, feigning to be deeply\ninterested in it, while all the time he was thinking of something else,\nlonging to go and sit by Franceline, and talk to her. It was not shyness\nthat kept him back. That infirmity of early youth had left him, with\nother outward signs of boyhood. The features had lost their boyish\nexpression, and matured into that of the man of the world, who had seen\nlife and observed things by the road with shrewd eyes and a mind that had\nlearned to think. Clide had ripened prematurely within the last eight\nyears, as men do who are put to school to a great sorrow. He and his\nmonitress had not parted company, but they had grown used to each other.\nSometimes he reproached himself for this with a certain bitterness. It\nseemed like treason to have forgotten; to have put his grief aside,\nrailed it off, as it were, from his life, like a grave to be visited at\nstated times, and kept trimmed with flowers that were no longer watered\nwith tears. He accused himself of being too weak to hold his sorrow, of\nhaving let it go from want of strength to keep it. Enduring grief, like\nenduring love, must have a strong, rich soil to feed upon. The thing\nwe mourn, like the thing we love, may contain in itself all good and\nbeauty and endless claims upon our constancy; but we may fail in power\nto answer them. The demand may be too great for the scanty measure of\nour supply. It is harder to be faithful in sorrow than in love. Clide\nhad realized this, and he could never think of it without a pang. Yet\nhe was not to blame. What he had loved and mourned was only a mirage,\na will-o\u2019-the-wisp the ideal creation of his own trusting heart and\ngenerous imagination. He was angry with himself because the thunderbolt\nthat had fallen in his Garden of Eden, and burnt up the leaves of his\ntree of life, had not torn it up by the roots and killed it. Our lives\nhave deeper roots than we know. Even when they are torn quite up we\nsometimes plant them again, and they grow afresh, striking their fibres\ndeeper than before, and bringing forth richer fruit. But we refuse to\nbelieve this until we have tasted of the fruit. Clide sat apparently\nlistening to the cheery, affectionate talk of his uncle and Raymond;\nbut he was all the while listening to his own thoughts. What was there\nin the sight of this ivory-browed, mystic-looking maiden to call up so\nvividly another face so utterly different from it? Why did he hear the\nsea booming its dirge like a reproach to him from that lonely grave at\nSt. Valery, as if he were wronging or wounding the dead by resting his\neyes on Franceline? Yet, in spite of the reproach, he could not keep them\naverted. Her father sometimes called her _Clair de lune_. It was not an\ninappropriate name; there was something of the cold, pure light of the\nmoon in her transparent pallor, and in the shadows of her eyes under the\nlong, black lashes that lent them such a soft fascination. Clide thought\nso, as he watched her; cold as the face might be, it was stirring his\npulse and making his heart beat as he never thought to feel them stir and\nbeat again.\n\n\u201cAre ces messieurs going to stay for supper?\u201d said Ang\u00e9lique, putting her\nnut-brown face in at the door. \u201cBecause, if they are, I must know in time\nto get ready.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, Ang\u00e9lique, I never knew you want more than five minutes to prepare\nthe best _omelette souffl\u00e9e_ I ever get anywhere out of the Palais\nRoyal!\u201d said Sir Simon.\n\n\u201cAh! monsieur mocks me,\u201d said Ang\u00e9lique, who was so elated by this public\nrecognition of her omelet talent that, if Sir Simon was not embraced\nby the nut-brown face on the spot, it was one of those hair-breadth\nescapes that our lives are full of, and we never give thanks for because\nwe never know of them. \u201cPersuade De Vinton and our young friend here\nto stop and test it, then!\u201d exclaimed M. de la Bourbonais, holding out\nboth hands to the admiral in his genial, impulsive way. \u201cThe garden is\nour _salle-\u00e0-manger_ in this hot weather, so there is plenty of room.\u201d\nThere was something irresistible in the simplicity and cordiality of\nthe offer, and the admiral was about to say he would be delighted, when\nSir Simon put in his veto: \u201cNo, no, not this evening. You must come and\ndine with us, Bourbonais; I want you up at the house this evening. But\nthe invitation will keep. We\u2019ll not let Ang\u00e9lique off her _omelette\nsouffl\u00e9e_; we\u2019ll come and attack it to-morrow, if these rovers don\u2019t\nbolt, as they threaten to do.\u201d\n\nAnd so the conference was broken up, and Raymond accompanied his guests\nto the garden-gate, promising to follow them in half an hour.\n\nIt was a rare event for M. de la Bourbonais to dine at Dullerton Court;\nhe disliked accepting its grand-seignior hospitality, and whenever he\nconsented it was understood there should be nobody to meet him. \u201cI have\ngrown as unsocial as a bear from long habit, mon cher,\u201d he would be sure\nto say every time Sir Simon bore down on him with an invitation. \u201cI shall\nturn into a mollusk by-and-by. How completely we are the creatures of\nhabit!\u201d To which Sir Simon would invariably reply with his Johnsonian\nmaxim: \u201cYou should struggle against that sort of thing, Bourbonais, and\novercome it\u201d; and Raymond would smile, and agree with him. He was too\ngentle and too thoroughbred to taunt his friend with not following it\nhimself, which he might have done with bitter truth. Sir Simon was the\nslave of habits and of weaknesses that it was far more necessary to\nstruggle against than Raymond\u2019s harmless little foibles. There are some\nmen who spend one-half of their lives in cheating others, and the other\nhalf in trying to cheat themselves. Sir Simon Harness was one of these.\nCheating is perhaps a hard word to apply to his efforts to keep up a\ndelusion which had grown so entirely his master that he could scarcely\nsee where the substance ended and where the shadow began. Yet his whole\nlife at present was a cheat. He had the reputation of being the largest\nland-owner and the wealthiest man in that end of the county, and he\nwas, in reality, one of the poorest. The grand aim of his existence was\nto live up to this false appearance, and prevent the truth from coming\nout. It would be a difficult and useless undertaking to examine how\nfar he was originally to blame for the state of active falsehood into\nwhich he and his circumstances had fallen. There is no doubt that his\nfather was to blame in the first instance. He had been a very splendid\nold gentleman, Sir Alexander Harness, and had lived splendidly and died\nheavily in debt, leaving the estate considerably mortgaged. He had not\nbeen more than twenty years dead at the time I speak of, so that his son,\nin coming into possession, found himself saddled with the paternal debts,\nand with the confirmed extravagant habits of a lifetime. This made the\nsacrifices which the payment of those debts necessitated seem a matter\nof simple impossibility to him. The only thing to be done was to let the\nCourt for a term of years, send away the troops of misnamed servants\nthat encumbered the place, sell off the stud, and betake himself to the\nContinent and economize. Thus he would have paid off his encumbrances,\nand come back independent and easy in his mind. But, unluckily, strong\nmeasures of this sort did not lie at all in Sir Simon\u2019s way. He talked\nabout going abroad, and had some indefinite notion of \u201cpulling in.\u201d He\ndid run off to Paris and other continental places very frequently; but\nas he travelled with a courier and a valet, and with all the expenses\ninseparable from those adjuncts, the excursions did not contribute much\ntowards the desired result. Things went on at the Court in the old way;\nthe same staff of servants was kept up; the same number of parasites who,\nunder pretence of payment for some small debt, had lived in the Court for\nyears, until they came to consider they had a vested life-interest in the\nproperty, were allowed to hang on. The new master of Dullerton was loath\nto do such a shabby thing as to turn them out; and they were sure to die\noff after a while. Then there was the stud, which Sir Alexander had been\nso proud of. It had been a terrible expense to set it up, but, being up,\nit was a pity to let it down; when things were going, they had a way of\nkeeping themselves going. There had always been open house at the Court\nfrom time immemorial. In the shooting season people had come down, as a\nmatter of course, and enjoyed the jovial hospitalities of the old squire\never since Dullerton had belonged to him. While his son was there he\ncould not possibly break through these old habits; they were as sacred\nas the family traditions. By-and-by, when he saw his way to shutting up\nthe place and going abroad, it might be managed. Meanwhile, the old debts\nwere accumulating, and new ones were growing, and Sir Simon was beginning\nless than ever to see his way to setting things right. If that tough old\nLady Rebecca Harness, his step-mother, would but take herself to a better\nworld, and leave him that fifty thousand pounds that reverted to him at\nher demise, it would be a great mercy. But Lady Rebecca evidently was in\nno hurry to try whether there was any pleasanter place than this best of\nall possible worlds, and, in spite of her seventy years, was as hale as a\nwoman of forty. This was a trying state of things to the light-tempered,\nopen-handed baronet; but the greatest trial to him was the fear in\nwhich he lived of being found out. He was at heart an upright man, and\nit was his pride that men looked up to him as one whose character and\nprinciples were, like C\u00e6sar\u2019s wife, above suspicion. He had lived up to\nthis reputation so far; but he was conscious of a growing fear that with\nthe increase of difficulties there was stealing on him a lessening of the\nfine moral sense that had hitherto supported him under many temptations.\nHis embarrassments were creating a sort of mental fog around him; he was\nbeginning to wonder whether his theories about honesty were quite where\nthey used to be, and whether he was not getting on the other side of the\nborder-line between conscience and expediency. Outside it was still all\nfair; he was the most popular man in the county, a capital landlord--in\nfact, everybody\u2019s friend but his own. The only person, except the family\nlawyer, who was allowed to look at the other side of the picture, was\nM. de la Bourbonais. Sir Simon was too sympathetic himself not to feel\nthe need of sympathy. He must occasionally complain of his hard fate to\nsome one, so he complained to Raymond. But Raymond, while he gave him\nhis sincerest sympathy, was very far from realizing the extent of the\ntroubles that called it forth. The baronet bemoaned himself in a vague\nmanner, denouncing people and things in a general sweep every now and\nthen; but between times he was as gay and contented as a man could be,\nand Raymond knew far too little of the ways of the world and of human\nnature to reconcile these conflicting evidences, and deduce from them\nthe facts they represented. He could not apprehend the anomaly of a sane\nman, and a man of honor, behaving like a lunatic and a swindler; spending\ntreble his income in vanity and superfluity, and for no better purpose\nthan an empty bubble of popularity and vexation of spirit. Of late,\nhowever, he had once or twice gained a glimpse into the mystery, and it\nhad given him a sharp pang, which Sir Simon no sooner perceived than he\nhastened to dispel by treating his lamentations as mere irritability\nof temper, assuring Raymond they meant nothing. But there was still an\nuneasy feeling in the latter\u2019s mind. It was chiefly painful to him for\nSir Simon\u2019s sake, but it made him a little uncomfortable on his own\naccount. With Raymond\u2019s punctilious notions of integrity, the man who\nconnived at wrong-doing, or in the remotest way participated in it, was\nonly a degree less culpable than the actual wrong-doer; and if Sir Simon\nhad come to the point of being hard up for a fifty-pound note to meet a\npressing bill, it was very unprincipled of him to be giving dinners with\nJohannisberg and Tokay at twenty shillings a bottle, and very wrong of\nhis friends to aid and abet him in such extravagance. One day Sir Simon\ncame in with a clouded brow to unburden himself about a fellow who had\nthe insolence to write for the seventh time, demanding the payment of\nhis \u201clittle bill,\u201d and, after a vehement tirade, wound up by asking\nRaymond to go back and dine with him. \u201cWe\u2019ll have up a bottle of your\nfavorite Ch\u00e2teau Margaux, and drink confusion to the duns and the speedy\nextermination of the race,\u201d said the baronet. \u201cCome and cheer a fellow\nup, old boy; nothing clears away the blue devils like discussing one\u2019s\nworries over a good glass of claret.\u201d Raymond fought off, first on the\nold plea that he hated going out, etc.; but, finding this would not\ndo, he confessed the truth. He hinted delicately that he did not feel\njustified in allowing his friend to go to any expense on his account.\nThe innocence and infantine simplicity of this avowal sent Sir Simon\ninto such a hearty fit of laughter that Raymond felt rather ashamed of\nhimself, and began to apologize profusely for being so stupid and having\nmisunderstood, etc., and declared he would go and drink the bottle\nof Ch\u00e2teau Margaux all to himself. But after this Sir Simon was more\nreticent about his embarrassments; and as things went on at the Court in\nthe old, smooth, magnificent way, M. de la Bourbonais began to think it\nwas all right, and that his friend\u2019s want of money must have been a mere\ntemporary inconvenience. In fact, he began to doubt this evening whether\nit was not all a dream of his that Sir Simon had ever talked of being\n\u201chard up.\u201d When he entered the noble dining-room and looked around him,\nit was difficult to believe otherwise. Massive silver and costly crystal\nsparkled and flashed under a shower of light from the antique branching\nchandelier; wax-lights clustered on the walls amidst solemn Rembrandt\nheads, and fascinating Reynoldses, and wild Salvator Rosas, and tender\nClaudes, and sunny Canalettos. It was not in nature that the owner of\nall this wealth and splendor should know what it was to be in want of\nmoney. Sir Simon, moreover, was in his element; and it would have puzzled\na spectator more versed than Raymond in the complex mechanism of the\nhuman heart to believe that the brilliant host who was doing the honors\nof his house so delightfully had a canker gnawing at his vitals. He\nrattled away with the buoyant spirits of five-and-twenty; he was brimful\nof anecdote, and bright with repartee. He drew every one else out. This\nwas what made him so irresistibly charming in society; it was not only\nthat he shone himself, but he had a knack of making other people shine.\nHe made the admiral tell stories of his seafaring life, he drew out Clide\nabout Afghanistan, and spirited M. de la Bourbonais into a quarrel with\nhim about the dates of the Pyramids; never flagging for a moment, never\nprosing, but vaulting lightly from one subject to another, and all the\nwhile leaving his guests under the impression that they were entertaining\nhim rather than he them, and that he was admiring them a vast deal more\nthan he admired himself. A most delightful host Sir Simon was.\n\n\u201cNothing cheers a man up like the sight of an old friend! Eh, De Winton?\u201d\nhe exclaimed, falling back in his chair, with a thumb thrust into each\nwaistcoat pocket, and his feet stretched out to their full length under\nthe mahogany, the picture of luxury, hospitality, and content.\n\n\u201cMuch you know about it!\u201d grunted the admiral, filling his glass--\u201ca man\nthat never wanted to be cheered up in his life!\u201d\n\nSir Simon threw back his head and laughed. It was wine to him to be\nrated such a good fellow by his old college chum.\n\nThey kept it up till eleven o\u2019clock, puffing their cigars on the terrace,\nwhere the soft summer moon was shining beautifully on the fawns playing\nunder the silver spray of the fountain.\n\n\u201cI\u2019ll walk home with you, Raymond,\u201d said Sir Simon when the chime of the\nstable-clock reminded the count that it was time for him to go.\n\nIt was about ten minutes\u2019 walk to The Lilies through the park; but as the\nnight was so lovely, the baronet proposed they should take the longer way\nby the road, and see the river by moonlight. They walked on for a while\nwithout speaking. Raymond was enjoying the beauty of the scene, the gold\nof the fields and the green of the meadows, all shining alike in silver,\nthe identity of the trees and flowers merged in uniform radiancy; he\nfancied his companion was admiring it too, until the latter broke the\nspell by an unexpected exclamation: \u201cWhat an infernal bore money is, my\ndear fellow! I mean the want of it.\u201d\n\n\u201cMon Dieu!\u201d was the count\u2019s astonished comment. And as Sir Simon said\nnothing more, he looked up at him uneasily: \u201cI thought things had come\nall right again, mon cher?\u201d\n\n\u201cThey never were right; that\u2019s the deuce of it. If I\u2019d found them right,\nI wouldn\u2019t have been such an ass as to put them wrong. A man needn\u2019t be\na saint or a philosopher to keep within an income of ten thousand pounds\na year; the difficulty is to live up to the name of it when you haven\u2019t\ngot more than the fifth in reality. A man\u2019s life isn\u2019t worth a year\u2019s\npurchase with the worry these rascally fellows give one--a set of low\nscoundrels that would suck your vitals with all the pleasure in life,\njust because you happen to be a gentleman. Here\u2019s that architect fellow\nthat ran up those stables last year, blustering and blowing about his\nmiserable twelve hundred pounds as if it was the price of a cathedral!\nI told the fellow he\u2019d have to wait for his money, and of course he was\nall readiness and civility, anything to secure the job; and it\u2019s no\nsooner done than he\u2019s down on me with a hue-and-cry. He must have his\nmoney, forsooth, or else he\u2019ll be driven to the painful necessity of\napplying through his man of business. A fellow of his kind threatening\nme with his man of business! The impertinence of his having a man of\nbusiness at all! But I dare say it\u2019s a piece of braggadocio; he thinks\nhe\u2019ll frighten the money out of me by giving himself airs and talking\nbig. I\u2019ll see the scoundrel further! There\u2019s no standing the impudence\nof that class nowadays. Something must be done to check it. It\u2019s a\ndisgrace to the country to see the way they\u2019re taking the upper hand and\nriding rough-shod over us. And mark my words if the country doesn\u2019t live\nto regret it! We landed proprietors are the bulwark of the state; and\nif they let us be sent to the wall, they had better look to their own\nmoorings. Mark my words, Bourbonais!\u201d\n\nBourbonais was marking his words, but he was too bewildered to make any\nsense out of them. \u201cI agree with you, mon cher, the lower orders are\nbecoming the upper ones in many ways; but what does that prove?\u201d\n\n\u201cProve! It proves there\u2019s something rotten in the state of Denmark!\u201d\nretorted Sir Simon.\n\n\u201cBut how does that affect the case in question? I mean what has it to do\nwith this architect\u2019s bill?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt has this to do with it: that if this fellow\u2019s father had attempted\nthe same impertinence with my father, he\u2019d have been sent to the\nright-about; whereas he may insult me, not only with impunity, but with\neffect! That\u2019s what it has to do with it. Public opinion has changed\nsides since my father lived like a gentleman, and snapped his fingers at\nthese parasites that live by sucking our blood.\u201d\n\nRaymond knew that when Sir Simon got on the subject of the \u201clower\u201d\norders and their iniquities, there was nothing for it but to give him\nhis head, and wait patiently till he pulled up of his own accord.\nWhen at last the baronet drew breath, and was willing to listen, he\nbrought him back to the point, and asked what he meant to do about the\ntwelve-hundred-pound bill. Did he see his way to paying it? Sir Simon\ndid not. It was a curious fact that he never saw his way to paying a\nbill until he had contracted it, and until his vision had been sharpened\nby some disagreeable process like the present, which forced him to face\nthe alternative of paying or doing worse. These new stables had been a\nnecessary expense, it is true, and he was very forcible in reiterating\nthe fact to Raymond; but the latter had a provoking way of reverting\nto first principles, as he called it, and, after hearing his friend\u2019s\nlogical demonstration as to the absolute necessity which had compelled\nhim to build--the valuable horses that were being damaged by the damp of\nthe old stables; the impossibility of keeping up a hunting stud without\nproper accommodations for horses and men; the economy that the outlay\nwas sure to be in the long run, the saving of doctor\u2019s bills, etc.; the\n\u201cvet.\u201d was never out of the house while the horses were lodged in the old\nstables--M. de la Bourbonais said: \u201cBut, mon cher, why need you keep a\nhunting stud, why keep horses at all, if you can\u2019t afford it?\u201d\n\nThis was a question that never crossed Sir Simon\u2019s mind, or, if it did,\nit was dismissed with such a peremptory snub that it never presented\nitself again. It was peculiarly irritating to have it thrust on him now,\nat a moment when he wanted some soothing advice to cheer him up. The\nidea, put into words and spoken aloud by another, was, however, not as\neasily ignored as when it passed silently through his own mind; it must\nbe answered, if only by shutting the door in its face.\n\n\u201cMy dear Raymond,\u201d said the baronet in his affectionate, patronizing way,\n\u201cyou don\u2019t quite understand the matter; you look at it too much from a\nFrenchman\u2019s point of view. You don\u2019t make allowance for the different\nconditions of society in this country. There are certain things, you see,\nthat a man must do in England; society exacts it of him. A gentleman must\nlive like a gentleman, or else he can\u2019t hold his own. It isn\u2019t a matter\nof choice.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt seems to me it is, though,\u201d returned Raymond. \u201cHe may choose between\nhis duty to his conscience and his duty to society.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou can\u2019t separate them, my dear fellow; it\u2019s not to be done in this\ncountry. But that\u2019s shifting the question too wide of the mark,\u201d observed\nSir Simon, who began to feel it was being driven rather too close. \u201cThe\nthing is, how am I to raise the wind to quiet this architect? It is too\nlate to discuss the wisdom of building the stables; they are built, and\nthey must be paid for.\u201d\n\n\u201cSell those two hunters that you paid five hundred pounds apiece for;\nthat will go a long way towards it,\u201d suggested the count.\n\nThe proposition was self-evident, but that did not make it the more\npalatable to Sir Simon. He muttered something about not seeing his way to\na purchaser just then. Raymond, however, pressed the matter warmly, and\nurged him to set about finding one without delay. He brought forward a\nvariety of arguments to back up this advice, and to prove to his friend\nthat not only common sense and justice demanded that he should follow\nit, but that, from a selfish point of view, it was the best thing he\ncould do. \u201cTrust me,\u201d he cried, \u201cthe peace of mind it will bring you\nwill largely compensate for the sacrifice.\u201d Sacrifice! It sounded like a\nmockery on Raymond de la Bourbonais\u2019 lips to apply the word to the sale\nof a couple of animals for the payment of a foolish debt; but Raymond,\nwhatever Sir Simon might say to the contrary, made large allowance for\ntheir relative positions, and was very far from any thought of irony when\nhe called it a sacrifice.\n\n\u201cYou\u2019re right; you\u2019re always right, Raymond,\u201d said the baronet, leaning\nhis arm heavily on the count\u2019s shoulder, and imperceptibly guiding him\ncloser to the river, that was flowing on like a message of peace in the\nsolemn, star-lit silence. \u201cI\u2019d be a happier man if I could take life as\nyou do, if I were more like you.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd had to black your own boots?\u201d Raymond laughed gently.\n\n\u201cI shouldn\u2019t mind a rap blacking my boots, if nobody saw me.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! that\u2019s just it! But when people are reduced to black their own\nboots, they\u2019re sure to be seen. The thing is to do it, and not care who\nsees us.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat\u2019s the rub,\u201d said Sir Simon; and then they walked on without\nspeaking for a while, listening to a nightingale that woke up in a\nwillow-tree and broke the silence with a short, bright cadence, ending\nin a trill that made the very shadows vibrate on the water. There is a\nstrange unworldliness in moonlight. The cold stars, tingling silently in\nthe deep blue peace so far above us, have a voice that rebukes the strife\nof our petty passions more forcibly than the wisest sermon. The cares and\nanxieties of our lives pale into the flimsy shadows that they are, when\nwe look at them in the glory of illuminated midnight heavens. What sheer\nfolly it all was, this terror of what the world would say of him if he\nsold his hunters! Sir Simon felt he could laugh at the world\u2019s surprise,\nay, or at its contempt, if it had met him there and then by the river\u2019s\nside, while the stars were shining down upon him.\n\n\u201cSimon,\u201d said M. de la Bourbonais, stopping as they came within a few\nsteps of The Lilies, \u201cI am going to ask you for a proof of friendship.\u201d\nHe scarcely ever called the baronet by his name, and Sir Simon felt that,\nwhatever the proof in question was, it was stirring Raymond\u2019s heart very\ndeeply to ask it.\n\n\u201cI thought we had got beyond _asking_ each other anything of that sort;\nif I wanted a service from you, I should simply tell you so,\u201d replied the\nbaronet.\n\n\u201cYou are right. That is just what I feel about it. Well, what I want\nto say is this: I have a hundred pounds laid by. I don\u2019t want it at\npresent; there is no knowing when I may want it, so I will draw it\nto-morrow and take it to you.\u201d Raymond made his little announcement very\nsimply, but there was a tremor in his voice. Sir Simon hardly knew what\nto say. It was impossible to accept, and impossible to refuse.\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s rather a good joke, my offering to lend you money!\u201d said Raymond,\nlaughing and walking on as if he noticed nothing. \u201cBut you know the story\nof the lion and the mouse.\u201d\n\n\u201cRaymond, you\u2019re a richer man than I am,\u201d said Sir Simon; \u201ca far happier\none,\u201d he added in his own mind.\n\n\u201cThen you\u2019ll take the hundred pounds?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes; that is to say, no. I can\u2019t say positively at this moment; we\u2019ll\ntalk it over to-morrow. You\u2019ll come up early, and we\u2019ll talk it over. You\nsee, I may not want it after all. If I get the full value of Nero and\nRosebud, I shouldn\u2019t want it.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut you may not find a purchaser at once, and a hundred pounds would\nkeep this man quiet till you do,\u201d suggested Raymond.\n\n\u201cMy dear old boy!\u201d said the baronet, grasping his hand--they were at the\ngate now--\u201cI ought to be ashamed to own it; but the fact is, Roxham--you\nknow Lord Roxham in the next county?--offered me a thousand pounds for\nRosebud only two days ago. I\u2019ll write to him to-morrow and accept it. I\ndare say he\u2019d be glad to take the two.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! how you unload my heart! Good-night, mon cher ami. A demain!\u201d said\nRaymond.\n\nOn his way home Sir Simon looked stern realities in the face, and came to\nthe determination that a change must be made; that it was not possible\nto get on as he was, keeping up a huge establishment, and entertaining\nlike a man of ten thousand a year, and getting deeper and deeper into\ndebt every day. Raymond was right. Common sense and justice were the best\nadvisers, and it was better to obey their counsels voluntarily while\nthere was yet time than wait till it was too late, and he was driven to\nextremities. This architect\u2019s bill was a mere drop in the ocean; but it\nis a drop that every now and then makes the flood run over, and compels\nus to do something to stem the torrent. As Sir Simon turned it all in\nhis mind in the presence of the stars, he felt very brave about the\nnecessary measures of reform. After all, what did it signify what the\nworld said of him? Would the world that criticised him, perhaps voted\nhim a fool for selling his hunters, help him when the day of reckoning\ncame? What was it all but emptiness and vanity of vanities? He realized\nthis truth, as he sauntered home through the park, and stood looking\ndown over the landscape sleeping under the deep blue dome. Where might\nhe and his amusements and perplexities be to-morrow--that dim to-morrow,\nthat lies so near to each of us, poor shadows that we are, our life a\nspeck between two eternities? Sir Simon let himself in by a door on the\nterrace, and then, instead of going straight to his room, went into the\nlibrary, and wrote a short note to Lord Roxham. It was safer to do it now\nthan wait till morning. The morning was a dangerous time with Sir Simon\nfor resolves like the present. It was ever to him a mystery of hope, the\nawakening of the world, the setting right and cheering up of all things\nby the natural law of resurrection.\n\nThe admiral and Clide had planned to leave next day; but the weather was\nso glorious and the host was so genial that it required no great pressing\nto make them alter their plans and consent to remain a few days longer.\n\n\u201cYou know we are due at Bourbonais\u2019 this evening,\u201d said Sir Simon. \u201cThe\nold lady will never forgive me if I disappoint her of cooking that omelet\nfor you.\u201d\n\nSo it was agreed that they would sup at The Lilies, and M. de la\nBourbonais was requested to convey the message to Ang\u00e9lique when,\naccording to appointment, he came up early to the Court. He had no\nopportunity of talking it over with Sir Simon; the admiral and Clide\nwere there, and other visitors dropped in and engaged his attention.\nThe baronet, however, contrived to set him quite at rest; the grasp of\nhis hand, and the smile with which he greeted his friend, said plainer\nthan words: \u201cCheer up, we\u2019re all right again!\u201d He was in high spirits,\nwelcoming everybody, and looking as cheerful as if he did not know what\na dun meant. He fully intended to whisper to Raymond that he had written\nabout the horses to Lord Roxham; but he was not able to do it, owing to\ntheir being so surrounded.\n\n\u201cDo you ride much, Monsieur le Comte?\u201d said Clide, coming to sit by\nRaymond, who, he observed, stood rather aloof from the people who were\nchatting together on common topics.\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d said Raymond; \u201cI prefer walking, which is fortunate, as I don\u2019t\npossess a horse.\u201d\n\n\u201cIf you cared for it, that wouldn\u2019t be an impediment, I fancy\u201d said the\nyoung man. \u201cSir Simon would be only too grateful to you for exercising\none of his. He has a capital stud. I\u2019ve been looking at it this morning.\nHe\u2019s a first-rate judge of horse-flesh.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is the basis of an Englishman\u2019s education, is it not?\u201d said the\ncount playfully.\n\n\u201cWhich accounts, perhaps, for the defects of the superstructure,\u201d replied\nClide, laughing. \u201cIt is rather a hard hit at us, Monsieur le Comte; but\nI\u2019m afraid we deserve it. You have a good deal to put up with from us one\nway or another, I dare say, to say nothing of our climate.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is a subject that I never venture to touch on,\u201d said Raymond, with\naffected solemnity. \u201cI found out long ago that his climate was a very\nsore point with an Englishman, and that he takes any disrespect to it as\na personal offence.\u201d\n\n\u201cA part of our general conceit,\u201d observed Clide good-humoredly. \u201cI\u2019ve\nbeen so long out of it that I almost forget its vices, and only remember\nits virtues.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat are they?\u201d inquired Raymond.\n\n\u201cWell, I count it a virtue in a wet day to hold out the hope to you of\nseeing it clear up at any moment; whereas, in countries that are blessed\nwith a good climate, once the day sets in wet, you know your doom;\nthere\u2019s nothing to hope for till to-morrow.\u201d\n\n\u201cThere is something in that, I grant you,\u201d replied Raymond thoughtfully;\n\u201cbut the argument works both ways. If the day sets in fine here, you\nnever know what it may do before an hour. In fact, it proves, what I have\nlong ago made up my mind to, that there is no climate in England--only\nweather. Just now it is redeeming itself; I never saw a lovelier day in\nFrance. Shall we come out of doors and enjoy it?\u201d\n\nThey stepped out on to the terrace, and turned from the flowery parterre,\nwith its fountain flashing in the sunlight, into a shady avenue of\nlime-trees.\n\nClide felt very little interest in Raymond\u2019s private opinion of the\nclimate. He wanted to make him talk of himself, as a preliminary to talk\nof his daughter; and, as usual when we want to lead up to a subject, he\ncould hit on nothing but the most irrelevant commonplaces. Chance finally\ncame to his rescue in the shape of a stunted palm-tree that was obtruding\nits parched leaves through the broken window of a neglected orangery. Sir\nSimon had had a hobby about growing oranges at the Court, and had given\nit up, like so many other hobbies, after a while, and the orangery, that\nhad cost so much money for a time, was standing forlorn and half-empty\nnear the flower-garden, a trophy of its owner\u2019s fickle purpose and\nextravagance.\n\n\u201cPoor little abortion!\u201d exclaimed the count, pointing to the starved\npalm-tree, \u201cit did not take kindly to its exile.\u201d\n\n\u201cExile is a barren soil to most of us,\u201d said Clide. \u201cWe generally prove a\nfailure in it.\u201d\n\n\u201cI suppose because we are a failure when we come to it,\u201d replied Raymond.\n\u201cWe seldom try exile until life has failed to us at home.\u201d He looked up\nwith a quick smile as he said this, and Clide answered him with a glance\nof intelligent and respectful sympathy. As the two men looked into each\nother\u2019s face, it was as if some intangible barrier were melting away, and\nconfidence were suddenly being established in its place.\n\nClide had never pronounced his wife\u2019s name since the day he had let his\nhead drop on the admiral\u2019s breast, and abandoned himself to the passion\nof his boyish grief. It was as if the recollection of his marriage and\nits miserable ending had died and been buried with Isabel. The admiral\nhad often wondered how one so young could be so self-contained, wrapping\nhimself in such an impenetrable reserve. The old sailor was not given\nto speculating on mental phenomena as a rule; but he had given this\nparticular one many a five minutes\u2019 cogitation, and the conclusion he\narrived at was that either Clide had taken the matter less to heart than\nhe imagined, and so felt no need of the solace of talking over his loss,\nor that the sense of humiliation which attached to the memory of Isabel\nwas so painful to him, as a man and a De Winton, that he was unwilling to\nrecur to it. There may have been something of this latter feeling mixed\nup with the other impalpable causes that kept him mute; but to-day, as he\npaced up and down under the fragrant shade of the lime-trees with M. de\nla Bourbonais, a sudden desire sprang up in him to speak of the past, and\nevoke the sympathy of this man, who had suffered, perhaps, more deeply\nthan himself. They were silent for a few minutes, but a subtle, magnetic\nsympathy was at work between them.\n\n\u201cI too have had my little glimpse of paradise, only to be turned out,\nlike so many others, to finish my pilgrimage alone,\u201d said Raymond\nabruptly.\n\n\u201cNo, not alone,\u201d retorted Clide; \u201cyou have a daughter, who must be a\ngreat delight to you.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! you are right. I was ungrateful to say alone; but you can\nunderstand that that other solitude can never be filled up. That is to\nsay,\u201d he added, looking up with a brightening expression in his keen\neyes, that sparkled under projecting brows, made more prominent by bushy\nblack eyebrows, \u201cnot at my age; at yours it is different. When sorrow\ncomes to a man at the close of his half-century, it is too late to plant\nagain; he cannot begin life anew. There is no future for him but courage\nand resignation. But at your age everything is a beginning. While we are\nyoung, no matter how dark the sky is, the future looks bright; to-morrow\nis always full of hope and glad surprises when we are young.\u201d\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t feel as if I were young,\u201d said Clide; \u201cit seems to me as if I\nhad outlived my youth. You know there are experiences that do the work of\nyears quite as well as time; that make us old prematurely?\u201d\n\n\u201cI know it, I can believe it,\u201d replied Raymond; \u201cbut nevertheless the\nspring of youth remains. It only wants the help of time to heal its\nwounds and restore its power of working and enjoying.\u201d\n\nThe young man shook his head incredulously.\n\n\u201cYou don\u2019t believe it yet; but you will find it out by-and-by,\u201d insisted\nRaymond; \u201cthat is, if you wish it and strive for it. We are most of us\nasleep until sorrow wakes us up and stings us into activity; then we\nbegin to live really, and to work.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen I\u2019m afraid I have been awakened to no purpose,\u201d remarked Clide\nrather bitterly. \u201cI certainly have not begun to work.\u201d\n\n\u201cPerhaps unawares you have all this time been preparing yourself for\nwork--for some appointed task that you would never have been fitted for\nwithout the experiences of the last years.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, perhaps you are right,\u201d assented his companion. They walked on\nthrough the flower-beds for a few moments without speaking. Then Raymond\nbroke the silence: \u201cWhy should you go away again, wandering about the\nContinent, and indulging in morbid memories, when you have such a\nnoble mission before you at home! Youth, intelligence, and a splendid\npatrimony--what a field of usefulness lies before you! Is it permitted\nto leave any field untilled when the laborers are so few?\u201d The same\nthought had occurred to Clide during the last twenty-four hours with\na persistency that he was not very earnest in repelling. \u201cIndulging\nin morbid memories!\u201d That was what his step-mother was now constantly\nreproaching him with. He resented it from her; but Raymond did not excite\nhis resentment. It was too much as if a father were expostulating with\nhis son. The paternal tone of the remonstrance called, moreover, for\nfuller confidence on his part, and, yielding to the fascination of the\nsympathy that was drawing him on and on, he resolved there and then to\ngive it. He told M. de la Bourbonais the history of his life from the\nbeginning: his loveless childhood, his boyhood, starved of all spiritual\nfood, his youth\u2019s wild passion, the loneliness of his later years, and\nhis present dissatisfied longings. He laid bare all that inner life he\nhad never unfolded to any human being before. It was a touching and\ndesolate picture enough, and one that called out Raymond\u2019s tenderest\ninterest and compassion. He listened to the story with that breathless,\nundivided attention that made Sir Simon so delight in him as a listener;\nanswering by an inarticulate exclamation now and then, interrupting here\nand there to put in a question that showed how closely he was following\nevery turn in the narrative, and how fully and completely he understood\nand entered into every phase of feeling the speaker described. When\nClide had finished, he seemed to understand himself better than he had\never done before. Every question of the listener seemed to throw a new\nand stronger light on what he was telling him; it was like a key opening\nunexpected mysteries in the past and in his own mind, showing him how\nfrom the very starting his whole theory of life had been a mistake. Life\nwas now for the first time put under the laws of truth, and through\nthat transparent medium every act and circumstance showed altogether\ndifferently; hidden meanings came out of what had hitherto been mere\nblots, what he had called accidents and mischances; every detail had a\nform and color of its own, and fitted into the whole like the broken\npieces of a puzzle. He had been learning and training all the time while\nhe fancied he was only suffering; he had unawares been drinking in that\nmoral strength that is only to be gained in wrestling with sorrow. The\nrevelation was startling; but Clide frankly acknowledged it, and in\nso doing felt that he was tacitly committing himself to the new line\nof conduct which must logically follow on this admission, if it was\nworth anything. There must be an end of sentimental regrets and morbid\ndespondings. He must, as Raymond said, begin to practise the lesson he\nhad paid so dear to learn; he must begin to live and to work; he must,\nby faithfulness and courage in the future, atone for the folly and\nselfishness of the past.\n\nIt may appear strange, perhaps incredible, that a mere passing contact\nwith a stranger should have so suddenly revealed all this to Clide,\nstirred him so deeply, and impelled him to a definite resolution that was\nto change the whole current of his life. But which of us cannot trace to\nsome apparently chance meeting, some word heedlessly uttered, and perhaps\nnot intended for us, a momentous epoch in our lives? We can never tell\nwho may be the bearer of the burning message to us, nor in what unknown\ntongue it may be spoken. All that matters to us is that we hearken to it,\nand follow where the messenger beckons. M. de la Bourbonais had no idea\nthat he was performing this office to Clide; nor did anything that he\nactually said justify the young man in looking upon him in the light of\na herald or an interpreter. It was something rather in the man himself\nthat did it; a voice that spoke unconsciously in his voice. There is a\npower in truth and simplicity more potent than any eloquence; and truth\nand simplicity radiated from Raymond like an atmosphere. His presence\nhad a light in it that impressed you insensibly with the right view of\nthings, and dissipated worldliness and selfishness and morbid delusions\nas the sun clears away the mists. Perhaps along with this immediate\ninfluence there was another one which acted unawares on Clide, adding to\nthe pressure of Raymond\u2019s pleading the softer incentive of an ideal yet\npossible reward.\n\nTO BE CONTINUED.\n\n\nDRAPER\u2019S CONFLICT BETWEEN RELIGION AND SCIENCE.[54]\n\nThe author of this volume became known to the public of New York a little\nover twenty years ago through a hand-book of chemistry, written at a\ntime when that science was emerging into its present maturity. Almost\nsimultaneously appeared from his pen a treatise on _Human Physiology_,\nwhen it likewise was running a swift race to its splendid proportions\nof to-day, impelled by the labors of Claude Bernard, Beaumont, and\nBichat. Those works were received at the time with much favor by American\nteachers of both named sciences as being clear and succinct compilations\nof the labors of European investigators, while containing some original\nobservations of undoubted scientific merit. Thus, the perception of the\ninfluence of endosmosis and exosmosis on the functions of respiration and\ncirculation, and the reference of pitch, quality, and intensity of sound\nto different portions of the anatomical structure of the ear, constitute\na valid claim, on Draper\u2019s part, as a contributor to modern physiology.\nAs a chemist, though painstaking and observant, he failed to keep pace\nwith European researches, and so his book has been superseded in our\nschools and colleges by later and more thorough productions. Indeed, it\nmay be said that his work on physiology likewise is rapidly becoming\nobsolete, its popularity having ceded place to the excellent treatises of\nDalton and Austin Flint, Jr.\n\nHad he in time recognized his exclusive fitness for experimental\nchemistry and physiology, his name might rank to-day with those of Liebig\nand Lehmann; but some disturbing idiosyncrasy or malevolent influence\ninspired him with the belief that he was destined for higher pursuits,\nand he burned to emulate Gibbon and Buckle. On the heels of the late\ncivil war, accordingly, appeared from his ambitious pen a book with the\npretentious title of _History of the American Civil War_, in which he\nstrove to prove that the agencies which precipitated that sad quarrel\ndated back a thousand years; that thermal bands having separated the\nNorth from the South, the two sections could not agree; that the conflict\nis not yet over, and will be ended only when both sides recognize the\nEast as the home of science, and make their salam to the rising sun. We\nspeak not in jest; the book, we believe, is still extant, and may be\nconsulted by the curious in such matters. Though the _History of the\nAmerican Civil War_ did not meet with flattering success, the new apostle\nof Islamism was not discouraged. No more trustworthy as a historian than\nMacaulay, he lacked the _verve_ and eloquence of that brilliant essayist,\nand his bantling fell into an early decline.\n\nBut there still was Buckle, in another department of intellectual\nactivity, whom it might be vouchsafed him to outsoar; and so,\nD\u00e6dalus-like, having readjusted his wings by means of a fresh supply\nof wax, he took a swoop into the _Intellectual Development of Europe_\nwith precisely the results which befell his classical prototype. Here\nindeed was a wide field for the display of that peculiar philosophy of\nhis which anathematizes the _Pentateuch_ and the pope, and apotheosizes\nthe locomotive and the loom. Accordingly, we find the _Development_ to\nbe a bitter attack on the church and all ecclesiastical institutions,\nwith alternate rhapsodical praises of material progress and scientific\ndiscoveries.\n\nIn the view taken by Dr. Draper the Papacy defeated the kindly intents\nof the mild-mannered Mahomet; but with the death of Pio Nono or some\nimmediate successor the pleasant doctrines of Averro\u00ebs and Buddha will\nreassert themselves, and we shall all finally be absorbed in the great\nmundane soul. As we have said, in alluding to the _History of the\nAmerican Civil War_, these are not mere idle words; they carry their\nblack and white attestation in every page of the work referred to.\n\nBut we must hasten to the volume under review. It is entitled _History\nof the Conflict between Religion and Science_. The title of the book is\nindeed the fittest key to its purpose. It predicates this conflict on\nthe first page; it assumes it from the start, and, instead of proving\nits existence, interprets statements and misstatements by the light of\nthat assumption. Of this the reader is made painfully aware from the very\noutset, and his sense of logic and fair play is constantly shocked by the\ndistortion of very many historical facts and the truthful presentment of\na few in support of what is a plain and palpable assumption. The book is\ntherefore a farrago of falsehoods, with an occasional ray of truth, all\nheld together by the slender thread of a spurious philosophy.\n\nIn the preface the author promises to be impartial, and scarcely has he\nproceeded eight short pages in his little volume before a cynical and\nsneering spirit betrays him into errors which a Catholic Sunday-school\nchild would blush to commit. On page 8 he says: \u201cImmaculate Conceptions\nand celestial descents were so currently received in those days that\nwhoever had greatly distinguished himself in the affairs of men was\nthought to be of supernatural lineage.\u201d And a little further on: \u201cThe\nEgyptian disciples of Plato would have looked with anger on those\nwho rejected the legend that Perictione, the mother of that great\nphilosopher, a pure virgin, had suffered an immaculate conception.\u201d This\nis but a forestalment of the wrath held in store by our author for the\ndogma proclaimed in 1854, a derisive comparison of it with the gross\nmyths of the superstitious Greeks. And yet how conspicuous does not the\nallusion render his ignorance of the Catholic doctrine! For evidently\nthe reference to a pure virgin subjected to an immaculate conception\nthrough the agency of a God reveals Draper\u2019s belief that the Catholic\ndogma of the Immaculate Conception consists in the conception of Christ\nin the womb of the Virgin Mary without human intervention. Surely some\nmalign agent had warped his judgment when he assumed to expound Catholic\ndoctrine; had\n\n    \u201cMade the eye blind, and closed the passages\n    Through which the ear converses with the heart.\u201d\n\nBut this is not the only point concerning which we would refer persons\ncurious about Catholic doctrines to Dr. Draper, and those who would\nlike to become acquainted with Catholic tenets never promulgated\nby any council from Nice to the Vatican. On two occasions, speaking\nof Papal Infallibility, he distinctly avers that it is the same as\nomniscience! On page 352 he says: \u201cNotwithstanding his infallibility,\nwhich implies omniscience, His Holiness did not foresee the issue of\nthe Franco-Prussian war.\u201d And again on page 361: \u201cHe cannot claim\ninfallibility in religious affairs, and decline it in scientific.\nInfallibility embraces all things. If it holds good for theology, it\nnecessarily holds good for science.\u201d Here is Catholic doctrine _\u00e0 la_\nDraper! Presumptuous reader, be not deluded by the belief that the\nVatican Council expressly confines infallibility to purely doctrinal\nmatters; it could not have done so! Does not Dr. Draper as explicitly\naffirm that the dogma of infallibility implies omniscience? His\nindividual experience no doubt had much to do with his extension of\nthe term; for, knowing himself to be a good chemist and physiologist,\nhe doubted not that by the same title he was a sound philosopher and\na keen-eyed observer of events. If it holds good in chemistry and\nphysiology, it necessarily holds good in philosophy and history. It is a\nrenewal of the old belief of the Stoics, as expounded by Horace, who says\nthat the wise man is a capital shoemaker and barber, alone handsome and a\nking. But these are blemishes which assume even the appearance of bright\nspots shining out by contrast with the deeper darkness which they stud.\n\nThe radical error of the book is twofold. It first confounds with the\nCatholic Church a great number of singular subjects to which that\nuniversal predicate cannot be applied, loosely and vaguely referring to\nthis incongruous chimera a great number of acts which cannot be imputed\nto the church at all in any proper sense. It next makes the mistake of\napplying the standard of estimation which is justly applicable only\nto the present time to epochs long past and in many respects diverse\nfrom it. For instance, the personal acts of prelates are referred to\nthe church considered as an infallible tribunal. Only an ignoramus in\ntheology needs to be informed that the infallible church is the body of\nthe episcopate teaching or defining in union with the head, or the head\nof the episcopate teaching and defining, as the principal organ of the\nbody, that which is explicitly or implicitly contained in the revealed\ndeposit of faith. Administration of affairs, decisions of particular\ncases, private opinions and personal acts, even official acts which are\nnot within the category above stated, do not pertain to the sphere of\ninfallibility; therefore when Dr. Draper charges against the church acts\nwhich are worthy of censure, or which are by him so represented, and\nwe detect in the case the absence of some one condition requisite to\ninvolve the church in the sense stated, we retort that he either knows\nnot what he says or is guilty of wilful misrepresentation. Yet his book\nis an unbroken tissue of such charges. And not only are those charges\nimproperly alleged, but they are for the most part substantially false.\n\nAt a time, for instance, when the placid influence of Christianity had\nnot supplanted in men\u2019s hearts the fierce passions which ages of paganism\nhad nurtured there, a band of infuriated monks murdered and tore to\npieces the celebrated Hypatia, in resentment of some real or fancied\naffront offered to S. Cyril The crime was indeed unpardonable, and\nperhaps S. Cyril was remiss in its punishment; but we might as well lay\nto the charge of the New York Academy of Medicine the revolting deeds\nperpetrated by individual members of the medical profession, as hold the\nchurch accountable for this crime. Both organizations have repeatedly\nexpressed their abhorrence of what morality condemns, and it is only\nfair that the one as well as the other be judged by its authoritative\nteachings and practices. Yet Dr. Draper draws from his quiver on this\noccasion the sharpest of arrows to bury in the bosom of that church which\ncould stain her escutcheon by this wanton attack on philosophy. \u201cHypatia\nand Cyril! Philosophy and bigotry! They cannot exist together.\u201d Do not\nthe melodramatic surroundings with which Draper\u2019s graphic pen invests\nthe murder of this woman readily suggest an episode in the history of a\ncertain knight of rueful mien when he charged a flock of sheep, believing\nthat he saw before him \u201cthe wealthy inhabitants of Mancha crowned\nwith golden ears of corn; the ancient offspring of the Goths cased in\niron; those who wanton in the lazy current of Pisverga, those who feed\ntheir numerous flocks in the ample plains where the Guadiana pursues\nits wandering course--in a word, half a world in arms\u201d? He charges,\nand behold seven innocent sheep fall victims to his prowess. Flushed\nwith this victory, and covetous of fresh laurels, our author whets\nhis blade for another thrust at that most odious of doctrines--Papal\nInfallibility. The management of the attack will serve as a specimen of\nDr. Draper\u2019s mode of critical warfare; it will show how neatly he puts\nforward assertion for proof, and in what a spirit of calm and dignified\nphilosophy he concludes the case against the church.\n\nA compatriot of his, who had changed the homely name of Morgan for the\nmore resonant one of Pelagius, feeling that the confines of the little\nisle which gave him birth were too narrow for a soul swelling with\npolemics, hied to Rome, where his theological fervor was speedily cooled\nby Pope Innocent I. Pelagius denied the Catholic doctrine of grace,\nasserting the sufficiency of nature to work out salvation. S. Augustine\npointed out the errors of Pelagius and of his associate, Celestius, which\nwere accordingly condemned by Pope Innocent. If we accept Dr. Draper as\nan authority in ecclesiastical history, a much-vexed question connected\nwith this very intricate affair is readily solved, and we are taught\nto understand how indiscreet were the fathers of the Vatican Council\nin decreeing the infallibility of the pope. He says: \u201cIt happened that\nat this moment Innocent died, and his successor, Zosimus, annulled his\njudgment and declared the opinions of Pelagius to be orthodox. These\ncontradictory decisions are still often referred to by the opponents of\nPapal Infallibility.\u201d\n\nNow, so far from this being the case, Zosimus, after a considerable\ntime of charitable waiting, to give Celestius an opportunity of\nreconsidering his errors and being reconciled to the church, formally\nrepeated the condemnation pronounced by his predecessor, and effectually\nstamped out Pelagianism as a formidable heresy. But since our weight\nand calibre are so much less than Dr. Draper\u2019s as not to allow our\nassertion to pass for proof, we will dwell a moment on the historical\ndetails of the controversy. Before the death of Innocent, Celestius\nhad entered a protest against his accuser, Paulinus, on the ground of\nmisrepresentation, but did not follow up his protest by personally\nappearing at Rome. The succession of the kind-hearted Zosimus and the\nabsence of Paulinus appeared to him a favorable opportunity for doing\nthis, and he accordingly wrote to Zosimus for permission to present\nhimself. Though the pope was engrossed at the time by the weighty cares\nof the universal church, his heart yearned to bring back the repentant\nCelestius to the fold of Christ, and he accorded to him a most patient\nhearing. Only a fragment of Celestius\u2019 confession remains, but we\nhave the testimony of three unsuspected witnesses, because determined\nanti-Pelagians, concerning the part taken in the matter by the pope.\nS. Augustine says: \u201cThe merciful pontiff, seeing at first Celestius\ncarried away by the heat of passion and presumption, hoped to win him\nover by kindness, and forbore to fasten more firmly the bands placed\non him by Innocent. He allowed him two months for deliberation.\u201d\nElsewhere S. Augustine says (_Epist. Paulin._, const. 693, _Labb\u00e9_, t.\n2) that Celestius replied to the interrogatories of the pope in these\nterms: \u201cI condemn in accordance with the sentence of your predecessor,\nInnocent of blessed memory.\u201d Marius Mercator, who lived at the time of\nthese occurrences, says that Celestius made the fairest promises and\nreturned the most satisfactory answers, so that the pope was greatly\nprepossessed in his favor (_Labb\u00e9_, t. 2, coll. 1512). Zosimus at length\nsaw through the devices of the wily Celestius, who, like all dangerous\nheretics, desired to maintain his errors while retaining communion\nwith the church, and, in a letter written to the bishops of Africa,\nformally reiterated against Pelagius and his adherents the condemnation\nof the African Council. Only fragments of the letter remain, but we\nknow that thereafter some of the most violent Pelagians submitted to\nthe Holy See. With what imposing dignity Dr. Draper waves aside these\nfacts, and coolly asserts that Zosimus annulled the judgment of his\npredecessor, and declared the opinions of Pelagius to be orthodox! But\nthis is only a sample of similar flagrant misstatements in which the\nbook abounds. For even immediately after, referring to Tertullian\u2019s\neloquent statement of the principles of Christianity, he says that it\nis marked by a complete absence of the doctrines of original sin, total\ndepravity, predestination, grace, and atonement, and that therefore these\ndoctrines had not been broached up to this time. Certainly not all of\nthem, for the church does not teach the doctrine of total depravity;\nbut the statement, being of the nature of a negative proof, possesses\nno value, and only shows on how slender a peg our author is ready to\nhang a damaging assertion against the church. Having thus triumphantly\ndemonstrated that Tertullian is not the author of the doctrine of the\nfall of man, he recklessly lays it at the door of the illustrious Bishop\nof Hippo. He says: \u201cIt is to S. Augustine, a Carthaginian, that we are\nindebted for the precision of our views on these important points.\u201d We\nwonder did Dr. Draper ever read these words of S. Paul to the Romans:\n\u201cWherefore as by one man sin entered into this world and by sin death:\nand so death passed upon all men, in whom all have sinned\u201d (Epist. Rom.\nv. 12). Yet S. Paul lived before Tertullian or S. Augustine. Draper\nnext sententiously adds: \u201cThe doctrine declared to be orthodox by\necclesiastical authority is overthrown by the unquestionable discoveries\nof modern science. Long before a human being had appeared upon the\nearth, millions of individuals--nay, more, thousands of species, and\neven genera--had died; those which remain with us are an insignificant\nfraction of the vast hosts that have passed away.\u201d Admirably reasoned! A\nmillion or more megatheria and megalosauri floundered for a while in the\nmarshes of an infant world, and died; therefore Adam was not the first\nman to die, for through him death did not enter into the world. Had S.\nPaul anticipated the honor of a dissection at the hands of so eminent\na wielder of the scalpel, he no doubt would have stated in his Epistle\nthat when he spoke of death entering into the world through the sin of\none man, he meant, not death to frogs and snakes, or bats and mice, but\ndeath to human beings alone. He would thus have helped Dr. Draper to\nthe avoidance of one exegetical error at least. Another assertion of\nillimitable reaches rapidly follows: \u201cAstronomy, geology, geography,\nanthropology, chronology, and indeed all the various departments of human\nknowledge, were made to conform to the Book of Genesis\u201d; that is to say,\necclesiastical authority prohibits us from seeking elsewhere than in the\npages of Holy Writ such knowledge as is contained in Gray\u2019s _Anatomy_\nor Draper\u2019s _Chemistry_ and _Physiology_. Where are your _pi\u00e8ces\njustificatives_ for this monstrous assertion, Dr. Draper? Did not the\nchurch, in the heyday of her temporal power, warn Galileo not to invoke\nthe authority of the Scriptures in support of his doctrine for the reason\nthat they were not intended to serve as a guide in purely scientific\nmatters? And here indeed is the true key to the conflict between that\nphilosopher and the church. Has not the same sentiment, moreover, been\nexplicitly affirmed by every commentator from S. Augustine himself down\nto Maldonatus and Cornelius \u00e0 Lapide, when considering chapter x. verse\n13 of the Book of Josue? Not a single document, extant or lost, can be\nreferred to as justifying Draper\u2019s extraordinary assertion that the\nBook of Genesis, \u201cin a philosophical point of view, became the grand\nauthority of patristic science.\u201d Of course it is readily perceived that\nthe term patristic science, as used by Dr. Draper, is not the science\ncommonly known as patrology, but natural science, as understood and\ntaught by the fathers. Chief among those whose officious intermeddling in\nscientific matters excites the spleen of Dr. Draper is, as before stated,\nS. Augustine, Bishop of Hippo. \u201cNo one,\u201d he says, \u201cdid more than this\nfather to bring science and religion into antagonism; it was mainly he\nwho diverted the Bible from its true office, a guide to purity of life,\nand placed it in the perilous position of being the arbiter of human\nknowledge, an audacious tyranny over the mind of man.\u201d The rash dogmatism\nof these words scarcely consists with the spirit Draper arrogates to\nhimself--the spirit of calm impartiality. So far from having striven to\nmake Scripture the arbiter of science, S. Augustine studied to bring\nboth into harmony, and, with this end in view, put the most liberal\ninterpretation on those passages of Holy Writ which might conflict with,\nas yet, unmade scientific discoveries. For this reason he hints at the\npossibility of the work of creation extending over indefinite periods of\ntime, as may, he says, be maintained consistently with the meaning of\nthe Syro-Chaldaic word which stands indifferently for day and indefinite\nduration. The saint\u2019s chief anxiety is to uphold the integrity of the\nBook of Genesis against the numerous attacks of pagan philosophers and\npaganizing Christians. The necessity of doing this was paramount at\nthe time, for the Jews and their doctrines were exceedingly obnoxious\nto Christian and Gentile; and since the church recognized the divine\ninspiration of the Hebrew Scriptures, the task of vindicating their\ngenuineness devolved on her theologians. But Dr. Draper overlooks this\nessential fact, and places S. Augustine in the totally false light of\nwantonly belittling science by making it square with the letter of the\nBible. But it is not as a censor alone of S. Augustine\u2019s opinions that\nDr. Draper means to figure; he follows him into the domain of dogmatic\ntheology, and, having there erected a tribunal, cites him to its bar. He\nquotes at length the African bishop\u2019s views on the fundamental dogmas\nof the Trinity and creation, having modestly substituted Dr. Pusey\u2019s\ntranslation for his own. The saint expresses his awe and reverence in\nface of the wondrous power and incomprehensible works of the Creator,\nand Dr. Draper calls him rhetorical and rhapsodical. No wonder. The mind\nbecomes subdued to the shape in which it works; and since the vigorous\nyears of Dr. Draper\u2019s life were spent in the laboratory, investigating\nsecondary causes and the properties of matter, it is not to be supposed\nthat he can enter at once into close sympathy with souls which have fed\non spiritual truths.\n\n    \u201cWhat\u2019s Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba?\u201d\n\nBut the crowding errors of the book warn us to hasten forward.\n\nHaving consigned S. Augustine to never-ending oblivion, our untiring\nathlete of the pen eloquently sketches step by step the progressive\npaganization of Christianity. The first thing to be done, he says, was\nto restore the worship of Isis by substituting for that _numen_ the\nBlessed Virgin Mary. This substitution was accomplished by the Council\nof Ephesus, which declared Mary to be the Mother of God, and condemned\nthe contradicting proposition of Nestorius. Is it proper to treat this\n_niaiserie_ with irony or indignation? We will do neither, but will\nrespectfully refer Dr. Draper either to Rohrbacher\u2019s _History of the\nChurch_, or Orsini\u2019s _Devotion to the Blessed Virgin_, to convince\nhim of the priority of this devotion to the times of S. Cyril and\nNestorius. The matter is too elementary and well known to justify us in\noccupying more space with its consideration. Therefore, passing over\nfrivolous charges of this sort, let us seize the underlying facts in\nthis alleged paganization of Christianity. The church does not teach\nthe doctrine of complete spiritual blindness, and is willing to admit\non the part of pagans the knowledge of many religious truths in the\nnatural order. Prominent among these is a belief in the existence of God,\nthe immortality of the soul, and a system of rewards and punishments\nin the future life. The propositions of De Lamennais, refusing to pure\nreason the power of establishing these truths, were formally condemned\nby Gregory XVI. In addition, it is part of theological teaching that\ncertain portions of the primitive revelation made to the patriarchs\nflowed down through succeeding generations, corrupted, it is true, and\nsadly disfigured, yet substantially identical, and tinged the various\nsystems of belief in vogue among the nations of the earth. It is almost\nunnecessary to point out the numberless analogies which exist between\nthe Hebrew doctrines and the myths of Grecian and Roman polytheism. The\nunity of God was universally symbolized by the admission of a supreme\nbeing, to whom the other deities were subject. The fall of man, a\nflooded earth and a rescued ark find their fitting counterparts in the\ntraditions of most races. Here, then, we find one source of possible\nagreement between Christianity and the pagan system without resorting to\nDr. Draper\u2019s ingenious process of gradual paganization. If, before the\nChristian revelation, human reason could have partially lifted the veil\nwhich hides another life, and if a defiled current of tradition could\nhave borne on its bosom fragments of a primitive revelation, surely it is\nnot necessary to suppose a compromise between Christianity and paganism\nby virtue of which the former finds itself in accord on certain points\nwith the latter. But a still stronger reason for the alleged resemblances\nand analogies between the two systems may be found in the common nature\nof those who accepted them. There is no sentiment in the human heart more\npotent than veneration, especially as its objects ascend in the scale of\ngreatness. Man\u2019s first impulse is to bow the head before the grandeur of\nnature\u2019s mighty spectacles, before the rushing cataract and the sweeping\nstorm, and to adore the Being whose voice is heard in the tempest, who\ndwells in a canopy of clouds and rides on the wings of the wind. Filled\nwith this sentiment, he builds temples, he offers sacrifices, eucharistic\nand propitiatory, he consecrates his faculties to the service of his\nGod, and applauds those of his fellows who, yielding to a still higher\nreverential influence, devote themselves in a special manner to the\npromotion of the divine glory and honor.\n\nFor this reason not only the Vestal Virgins themselves deemed celibacy\nan honorable privilege which drew them nearer to the Deity, and gloried\nin its faithful practice, if history is at all truthful; but their\nself-sacrifice invested them with a special halo in the eyes of the\nmultitude. Had Dr. Draper shared the ennobling sentiments of these pagan\nwomen, he would never have uttered the base slander on humanity--which\nputs his own manhood to the blush, and brands the warm-blooded days of\nhis single life--that \u201cpublic celibacy is private wickedness.\u201d\n\nAnimated by the same sentiment of rendering all things subject to the\nDivinity, men consecrated to him the fruits of the earth, and invoked\nhis blessing on the seedling buried in the soil. Familiar objects became\ntypical of divine attributes, as water of the purity of Diana, and salt\nof the incorruptibility of Saturn; hence the sprinkling of the _aqua\nlustralis_ among the Romans on all solemn occasions, and the use of salt\nin their sacrifices. Even the scattering of a little dust on the forehead\nwas to them expressive of the calm and tranquillity of death succeeding\nto the storms and passions of life. No doubt, had Dr. Draper recalled\nthose lines of Virgil:\n\n    \u201cHi motus animorum atque h\u00e6c certamina tanta\n    Pulveris exigui jactu compressa quiescunt,\u201d\n\nhe would, in accordance with his peculiar logic, have perceived in the\nceremonies of Ash-Wednesday another instance of a return to paganism.\nWithout entering at greater length into those spontaneous expressions\nof reverence towards the Deity which abound in every religious system,\nand which well up from the human heart as a necessary confession of its\ndependence on a higher cause, we will hasten to the conclusion, implied\nin them, that there is an identity of external worship in all religions\nwhich, so far, proclaims an identity of origin. What, therefore, Dr.\nDraper pronounces to be a paganization of Christianity is nothing more\nthan acceptance by it of those features of older creeds which are founded\non truth, and spring from the constitution of human nature.\n\nWhat though the Romans did pay homage to Lares and Penates, to river\ngods and tutelary deities; should that fact stigmatize as idolatrous or\nheathenish the reverence exhibited by Christians towards the Blessed\nVirgin and the saints? Does not the fact rather indicate, by its very\nuniversality, that it is part of the divine economy, and that such\nworship best represents the wants of the human heart? Assuredly, this\nis not intended as a vindication of pagan practices, but aimed to show\nthat, in the struggles of the human heart to satisfy its cravings, an\nundeserting instinct guides it along a path which, however tortuous and\nwinding, leads in the end to truth. Draper\u2019s charge of paganization in\nall respects resembles Voltaire\u2019s assertion that Christianity is a\ncounterfeit of Buddhism.\n\nThat noted infidel contended that celibacy, monasticism, mendicity,\nvoluntary poverty, humility, and mortification of the senses, were so\nmany features of Buddhism unblushingly borrowed by the Christian Church.\nBut, like the other misstatements of Voltaire, made through pure love of\nmischief, this one has been refuted time and again. It has been shown\nthat the ethics of Buddha flow from the dogma that ignorance, passion,\nand desire are the root of all evil, and, this principle granted,\nnothing could be more natural than the moral system thence resulting.\nIn the Christian code, on the contrary, purity, voluntary poverty, and\nmortification of the senses are practised for their own sake; not for the\npurpose of enlightenment or the extirpation of ignorance, but that our\nnatures may thereby become purified. No matter, therefore, how strong\nand striking analogies may be, the difference in principle destroys the\ntheories of Voltaire and Draper; for similar consequences often proceed\nfrom widely differing premises. We see this fact impressively exhibited\nin the practice of auricular confession as it exists among the followers\nof Gautama. According to them, the evil tendencies of the human heart\nare manifold and varied, and, to be successfully combated, must be\ndivided into classes. Thus the sin of sensuality admits of a division\ninto excess at table and concupiscence of the flesh, the latter being in\nturn subdivided into lust of the eye and lust of the body, evil thoughts,\nevil practices, etc. We have here in reality a true system of casuistry.\nFaults should be confessed with sorrow and an accompanying determination\nnot to repeat them; nay, even wrongs must be repaired as far as\npossible, and stolen property be restored. Such are the views which have\nbeen firmly held by the disciples of Buddha from time immemorial. Thus\nwe find confession and its concomitant practices established among the\nBuddhists on grounds of pure reason; and surely the fact is no argument\nagainst the same practice in the Christian Church, nor does the existence\nof the practice among Christians necessarily denote a Buddhic origin. The\nexplanation is still the same that practices and beliefs founded on the\nwants of human nature are universal, circumscribed neither by church nor\ncreed. We believe, therefore, that Dr. Draper\u2019s philosophy of gradual\npaganization is not tenable; and if we strip it of a certain veneer\nof elegant verbiage, we shall find a rather dull load of unsupported\nassertion beneath:\n\n    \u201cDesinit in piscem mulier formosa superne.\u201d\n\nThe whole account of this pretended paganization breathes a spirit of\nbitterness and malignity that makes one perforce smile at the title-page\nof the book, on which is inscribed the name of that sweet daughter of\nphilosophy, Science. The reader is constantly startled by volleys of\nassertions, contemptuous, blasphemous, ironical, and derisive. Indeed,\nit may be said that hatred of Catholic doctrine and usages is the\nattendant demon of Dr. Draper\u2019s life, the wraith that haunts him day and\nnight. He says that it was for the gratification of the Empress Helena\nthe Saviour\u2019s cross was discovered; that when the people embraced the\nknees of S. Cyril after the Blessed Virgin was declared Mother of God,\nit was the old instinct peeping out--their ancestors would have done\nthe same for Diana; that the festival of the Purification was invented\nto remove the uneasiness of heathen converts on account of the loss\nof their _Lupercalia_, or feasts of Pan; that quantities of dust were\nbrought from the Holy Land, and sold at enormous prices as antidotes\nagainst devils, etc., _ad nauseam_. Through all this rodomontade we\nperceive not a single attempt at proof, only an unbroken tissue of\nunsupported assertion. It is said; it is openly stated; there is a belief\nthat--these are Draper\u2019s usual formularies whenever an obscure but impure\nand blasphemous tradition is related by him. When, however, he surpasses\nhimself in obscenity, he drops even this thin disguise of reasoning,\nand boldly asserts. But with matter of this sort we will not stain our\npages. Indeed, these vile and obscure traditions seem to have a special\ncharm for our author. Worse, however, than this packing of silly and\nstupid fables into his book is the implied understanding that the church\nis answerable for them all. She it is who falsifies decretals, invents\nmiracles, discovers fraudulent relics, beholds apparitions, sanctions\nthe trial by fire, massacres a whole cityful, and perpetrates every\ncrime in the calendar. Surely, she were a very monster of iniquity, the\nreal scarlet lady, the beast with seven heads, were the half true of her\nwhich Dr. Draper lays at her door. There is in it, however, the manifest\nintent and outline of a crusade against the church and the institutions\nshe fosters; the shadowing forth of a purpose to array against her, what\nis more formidable than Star Chamber or Inquisition--the feelings of\nunreflecting millions who are allured by the glamour of manner to the\nutter disregard of matter. But it must be remembered that Exeter Hall\nfanaticism has never found a genial home on this side of the Atlantic,\nand we are not afraid that the stupid conglomeration of silly charges\nbrought against the church by Dr. Draper, more akin to fatuous drivel\nthan to the dignified and scholarly arraignment of a philosopher, will do\nmore than provoke a pitying smile. His feeble blows fall on adamantine\nsides which have oft resisted shafts aimed with deadlier intent than\nthese:\n\n    \u201cTelumque imbelle sine ictu\n    Conjecit.\u201d\n\nBut there is another explanation of the successive accumulation of\ndoctrines and practices in the church which will perhaps come more\nwithin the reach of Dr. Draper\u2019s appreciation, as it throws light on the\nhistory of science itself, and underlies the growth of every system of\nphilosophy. We speak of the doctrine of development. Draper unfolded,\neven pathetically, the impressive picture of science springing from\nvery humble beginnings, and growing dauntlessly, despite bigotry and\npersecutions, into that colossal structure of to-day which, according to\nhim, shelters the highest hopes and aspirations of men, and assures to\nthem a glorious future of absorption into the universal spirit--viz.,\nannihilation. \u201cAb exiguis profecta initiis, eo creverit ut jam\nmagnitudine laboret sua.\u201d This gradual development he proclaims to be the\nnatural expansion and growth of science, on which theory he predicts for\nit an unending career of glory--\u201ccrescit occulto velut arbor \u00e6vo.\u201d But he\nis indignant that the church did not spring into existence, like Minerva\nfrom the brain of Jupiter, armed cap-a-pie, in the full bloom of her\nmaturity and charms. Because she did not do so, every advance on her part\nwas retrogressive, and her growth was the addition of \u201ca horse\u2019s neck\nto a human head.\u201d She borrowed, compromised, and substituted; so that,\nif we believe Dr. Draper, no _olla podrida_ could be composed of more\nheterogeneous elements than the Christian Church.\n\nShe placed under contribution not only paganism, but Mahometanism, and\nfilched a few thoughts from Buddha, Lao-Tse, and Confucius. The least\ncourtesy we might expect from Dr. Draper is that we may be allowed to\nattempt to prove that Christianity, like every system entrusted to the\ncustody of men, is necessarily affected on its secular side by that\nwardship, and so far is subject to the same conditions. But no; he\ncondemns in advance, and so fastens the gyves of his condemnation on\nthe church as apparently not to leave even a loop-hole of escape, or a\npossible rational explanation of the successive events of her history.\n\nBut enough of this. Even to the most ordinary mind the thin veil of\nphilosophy in which Dr. Draper wraps his balderdash of paganization is\nsufficiently easy of penetration. And what does he offer to the Christian\nwho would range himself under the new banner? In what attractive forms\ndoes Draper present his science to win the sympathies and sentiments\nof men, and make them forego the hopes of eternal happiness whispered\non the cross? Here is one: _Ex uno disce omnes_. When Newton succeeded\nin proving that the influence of the earth\u2019s attraction extended as\nfar as the moon, and caused her to revolve in her orbit around the\nearth, he was so overcome by the flooding of truth upon his mind that\nhe was compelled to call in the assistance of another to complete the\nproof. A pretty picture, no doubt, and a fit canonization of science.\nBut let us contrast it with a Xavier expiring on the arid plains of\nan eastern isle, far away from the last comforting words and soothing\ntouch of a friend, yet happy beyond expression in the firmness of his\nfaith, while clasping in his dying hands the crucifix, which to him had\nbeen no stumbling-block, but the incitement to labor through ten years\nof incomparable suffering among a degraded race. Or place it beside a\nVincent de Paul, who from dawn to darkness traversed the slums of Paris,\npicking up waifs, the jetsam and flotsam of society, washing them,\nfeeding them, dressing their sores, and nursing them more tenderly than a\nmother. Or contrast its flimsy sentimentality with the motives which sped\nmissionaries across unknown oceans, over the Andes, the Himalayas, and\nthe Rocky Mountains, and into the ice-bound wildernesses of Canada, to\nsubdue the savage Iroquois by the mildness of the Gospel; to found a new\ngolden age on the plains of Paraguay; to preach the evangel of peace and\npurity through the wide limits of the Flowery Kingdom; and to seal with\ntheir blood the ceaseless toil of their lives.\n\n    \u201cQu\u00e6 regio in terris nostri non plena laboris?\n    Qu\u00e6 caret ora cruore nostro?\u201d\n\nDr. Draper, evidently, has not read the _Decline and Fall of the Roman\nEmpire_ in vain. Not only does the same anti-Christian spirit breathe\nthrough his pages, but he has seized the stilted style of Gibbon, deemed\nphilosophical, which is never at home but when soaring amid the clouds.\nThere is a pomp and parade of philosophy, an assumption of dignified\ntranquillity, a tone of mock impartiality, which vividly recall the\ndefective qualities of Gibbon\u2019s work. But in studying these features\nof style, which necessitate a deal of dogmatism, Draper has allowed\nhimself to be betrayed into numberless errors in philosophy. Perhaps\nan illustration or two will help to give point to our remarks. On page\n243 he writes: \u201cIf there be a multiplicity of worlds in infinite space,\nthere is also a succession of worlds in infinite time. As one after\nanother cloud replaces cloud in the skies, so this starry system, the\nuniverse, is the successor of countless others that have preceded it, the\npredecessor of countless others that will follow. There is an unceasing\nmetamorphosis, a sequence of events, without beginning or end.\u201d\n\nIs not this\n\n    \u201cA pithless branch beneath a fungous rind\u201d?\n\nIs Dr. Draper aware that Gassendi, Newton, Descartes, and Leibnitz\ndevoted the highest efforts of their noble intellects to the\nconsideration of time and space, and would long have hesitated before\nthus flippantly affixing the epithet \u201cinfinite\u201d to either? What is space\napart from the contained bodies? If it contains nothing, or rather if\nthere is nothing in space, space itself is nothing; it merely represents\nto us the possibility of extended bodies. And if it is nothing, how can\nit be infinite? The application of the word infinite to time is still\nmore inappropriate. There can be no such thing as infinite time. Let\nus take Dr. Draper\u2019s own successive periods, though embracing millions\nof years, and we contend that there must be some beginning to them.\nFor if there is no beginning to them, they are already infinite in\nnumber--that is, they are already a number without beginning or end. But\nthis cannot be. For we can consider either the past series of periods\ncapable of augmentation by periods to come; and what then becomes of\nDraper\u2019s infinity? For surely that is not infinite which is susceptible\nof increase. Or we can consider the past series minus one or two of its\nperiods--a supposition equally fatal to the notion of infinity. Time,\nthen, is of a purely finite character, and is nothing else than the\nsuccessive changes which finite beings undergo. More nonsensical still\nis the notion of \u201ca sequence of events without beginning or end.\u201d We\nmust discriminate here between an actual series and a potential series\nof events, which Dr. Draper forgets to do; for on the distinction a\ngreat deal depends. An actual series can never be infinite, for we can\ntake it at any given stage of its progress, whether at the present\nmoment or in the past, and consider it increased by one; but any number\nsusceptible of increase can be represented by figures, since it is\nfinite, that is, determinate. It cannot be said that it extends into the\npast without beginning, for the dilemma always recurs that it is either\nfinite or infinite; if finite, it must be represented by figures, and\nthat destroys the idea of a non-beginning; and if it is infinite, it\ncannot be increased, which is absurd. And if we ask for a cause for any\none event in the reputed unending series, we are referred to the event\nimmediately preceding, which in turn has for its cause another prior\nevent. If, however, we inquire for the cause of the whole series, we are\ntold that there is none such; there is naught but an eternal succession\nof events. Is not this, as some author says, as if we were to ask what\nupholds the last link in a chain suspended from an unknown height, and\nshould receive the answer that the link next to the last supports it, and\nthe third supports the two beneath, and so on, each higher link supports\na weightier burden? If then we should ask, What is it that supports the\nwhole? we are told that it supports itself. Therefore a finite weight\ncannot support itself in opposition to the laws of gravitation; much\nless can another finite weight twice as heavy as the first, and less and\nless can it do so as the weight increases; but when the weight becomes\ninfinite, nothing is required to uphold it. The reasoning is entirely\nanalogous to Draper\u2019s, who speaks of cloud replacing cloud in the skies\nwithout beginning, without end. \u201cQuos Deus vult perdere prius dementat.\u201d\nBacon has well said that the exclusive consideration of secondary causes\nleads to the exclusion of God from the economy of the universe, while a\ndeeper insight reveals of necessity a First Cause on which all others\ndepend. This is exactly the trouble with Dr. Draper. He will not lift his\npurblind gaze from the mere phenomena of nature to their cause, but is\nsatisfied to revolve for ever in the vicious circle of countless effects\nwithout a cause. If we are to judge by the additional glow which pervades\nwhat he has written concerning the nebular hypothesis, he unquestionably\nconsiders that theory a conclusive proof of the non-interference of the\nDeity in the affairs of the universe.\n\nNow, we have no particular fault to find with the nebular hypothesis. It\nis only an explanation of a change which matter has undergone. It does\nnot affect the question of creation whether matter was first in a state\nof incandescent gas, or sprang at the bidding of the eternal fiat into\nits manifold conditions of to-day. Indeed, we will grant that there is a\nplausibility in the theory which to many minds renders it fascinating;\nbut that does not make matter eternal and self-conserving. It is entirely\nconsistent with the dogma of creation that God first made matter devoid\nof harmonious forms and relations, and that these slowly developed in\naccordance with the laws he appointed. There is nothing inconsistent in\nsupposing that our terrestrial planet is a fragment struck off from the\ncentral mass, and that, after having undergone numerous changes, it at\nlast settled down into a fit abode for man. The church never expressed\nherself pro or con; for no matter how individual writers may have felt\nand written, no matter how much they may have sought to place this or\nthat physical theory in antagonism with revealed truth, the church never\ntook action, for the reason that the question lies beyond the sphere of\nher infallible judgment until it touches upon the revealed doctrine.\nIt is Dr. Draper, therefore, who strenuously seeks to draw inferences\nfrom modern physical theories, so as to put them in conflict, not only\nwith revelation, but with the truths of natural theology. After having\ngiven an outline of the nebular hypothesis, he says: \u201cIf such be the\ncosmogony of the solar system, such the genesis of the planetary worlds,\nwe are constrained to extend our view of the dominion of law, and to\nrecognize its agency in the creation as well as in the conservation of\nthe innumerable orbs that throng the universe.\u201d Now, what he means by\nextending our views of the dominion of law is to make it paramount\nand supreme. But what is this law? If its agency is to be recognized\nin the creation of the innumerable orbs that throng the universe, it\ncertainly must have existed prior to that event, else Dr. Draper uses\nthe word creation in a sense entirely novel. Now, supposing, as we\nare fairly bound to do, that Dr. Draper attaches to the term creation\nits ordinary signification, we will have the curious spectacle of law\ncreating that of which it is but the expression. We cannot perceive what\nother meaning we are to extract from the saying that we must recognize\nthe agency of law in the creation of the universe. Law is, therefore,\nthe creator of the universe; that is to say, \u201cThe general expression\nof the conditions under which certain assemblages of phenomena occur\u201d\n(Carpenter\u2019s definition of law) ushered into existence the cause of\nthose phenomena. Can anything more absurd be conceived? But apart from\nthe notion of law being at the bottom of creation, how can Dr. Draper,\nconsistently with his ideas of \u201cinfinite space,\u201d \u201cinfinite time,\u201d\n\u201csequence of events without beginning or end,\u201d admit such a thing as\ncreation at all? Creation is the transition of a portion of the eternal\npossibles in the divine mind from a state of possibility into one of\nphysical existence, at the bidding of God\u2019s infinite power. Supposing,\nthen, that it is in this sense Dr. Draper uses the word creation, he must\nof necessity discard the doctrine of the eternity of matter, and his\n_nug\u00e6 canor\u00e6_ concerning \u201cthe immutability of law,\u201d \u201claw that dominates\noverall,\u201d \u201cunending succession of events,\u201d become the frothings of a\ndistempered mind. But when a person writes in accordance with no fixed\nprinciples, only as the intellectual caprice of the moment dictates, he\nnecessarily falls into glaring and fatal inconsistencies. For not many\npages after this implied admission of creation, even though it be the\ninane creation by law, he says: \u201cThese considerations incline us to view\nfavorably the idea of transmutations of one form into another rather\nthan that of sudden creations. Creation implies an abrupt appearance,\ntransformation a gradual change.\u201d He thus again rejects the doctrine of\ncreation in almost the same breath in which he spoke of it as brought\nabout by the agency of law. The question here occurs, Are the notions\nof creation and law antipodal? Can they not coexist? For our own part,\nwe see nothing inconsistent in the supposition that God created the\nuniverse, under stable laws for its guidance and conservation. The very\nsimplicity of the compatible existence of the two puzzles us to know what\nobjection to it the ingenuity of Dr. Draper has discovered. For it must\nbe understood that his stated incompatibility is a wearisome assumption\nthroughout--wearisome, for the mind, ever on the alert to find a reason\nfor the statement, withdraws from the hopeless task tired and disgusted.\nFor instance, at the close of his remarks concerning the nebular theory\nhe says: \u201cBut again it may be asked, \u2018Is there not something profoundly\nimpious in this? Are we not excluding Almighty God from the world he has\nmade?\u2019\u201d The words are sneeringly written. They are supposed to contain\ntheir own reply, and the writer passes on to something else. He does\nnot attempt to prove that the nebular hypothesis is at variance with\ncreation, except with such a view of the act as he himself entertains.\nAnd this brings us to the consideration of his views concerning this\nsublime dogma. Draper evidently supposes that creation took place by fits\nand starts, as figures pop out in a puppet-show. Hence he is constantly\ncontrasting the grandeur of a slow development, an ever-progressing\nevolution, with the unphilosophical idea of sudden and abrupt creations.\nThough we fail to perceive anything derogatory to the infinite wisdom of\nthe Creator in supposing that he launched worlds into existence perfect\nand complete, the idea of creation in the Christian sense does not\nnecessarily imply this. We hold that the iron logic of facts forces us\nto the admission of creation in general, in opposition to the senseless\ndoctrine of unbeginning and unending series and sequences; and while we\ndo not pretend to determine the manner in which God proceeded with his\nwork, we likewise hold that the gradual appearance of planet after planet\nof the innumerable orbs that stud the firmament, of genus after genus,\nand species after species, can be far more philosophically referred to\nthe positive act of an infinite power than to the vague operation of law.\nDraper, therefore, shivers a lance against a windmill when he sets up his\ndoctrine of evolution against a purely imaginary creation. While he thus\narraigns the doctrine of creation as shortsighted and unphilosophical,\nit is amusing to contemplate the substitute therefor which his system\noffers. On page 192 he says: \u201cAbrupt, arbitrary, disconnected creative\nacts may serve to illustrate the divine power; but that continuous,\nunbroken chain of organisms which extends from pal\u00e6ozoic formations to\nthe formations of recent times--a chain in which each link hangs on a\npreceding and sustains a succeeding one--demonstrates to us not only that\nthe production of animated beings is governed by law, but that it is by\nlaw that it has undergone no change. In its operation through myriads\nof ages there has been no variation, no suspension.\u201d We have already\nproved that whatever is finite or contingent in the actual order must\nnecessarily have had a beginning--a fact which Draper himself seems to\nadmit when he speaks of the creative agency of law; and the question\narises what it is which Dr. Draper substitutes for the creative act.\nCreation by law is an absurdity, since law is but the expression of the\nregularity of phenomena, once the fact of the universe has been granted.\nUnbeginning and unending series are not only an absurdity, but a palpable\nevasion of the difficulty. We have, therefore, according to Dr. Draper, a\ntremendous effect without a cause. When we view the many-sided spectacle\nof nature, the star-bespangled empyrean, the endless forms of life\nwhich the microscope reveals, the harmony and order of the universe, we\nnaturally inquire, Whence sprang this mighty panorama? What all-potent\nBeing gave it existence? Draper\u2019s answer is, It had no beginning, it\nwill have no end--_i.e._, it began nowhere, it will end nowhere. There\nit is, and be satisfied. The Christian replies that it is the work of an\neternal, necessary, and all-perfect Being, who contains within himself\nthe reason of his own existence, and whose word is sufficient to usher\ninto being countless other worlds of far vaster magnitude than any that\nnow exist.\n\nThroughout the whole book are scattered references to this supremacy of\nlaw over creation, and the inference is constantly deduced that every\ncurse which has befallen humanity, every retarding influence placed in\nthe way of human progress, has proceeded from the doctrine of creation.\nCreation alone can give color to the doctrine of miracles, and creation\nrenders impossible the safe prediction of astronomical events. For these\nreasons Draper condemns it, not only as an intellectual monstrosity, but\nas morally bad. While we admit that the possibility of miracles does\ndepend on the admission of an intelligent Cause of all things, it by no\nmeans follows that the same admission invalidates the safe prediction\nof an eclipse or a comet. Draper\u2019s words touching the matter are such\na curiosity in their way that we cannot forbear quoting them. On page\n229 he says: \u201cAstronomical predictions of all kinds depend upon the\nadmission of this fact: that there never has been and never will be any\nintervention in the operation of natural laws. The scientific philosopher\naffirms that the condition of the world at any given moment is the direct\nresult of its condition in the preceding moment, and the direct cause of\nits condition in the subsequent moment. Law and chance are only different\nnames for mechanical necessity.\u201d\n\nParodying the words of Mme. Roland, we might exclaim, O Philosophy! what\nfollies are committed in thy name. Just think of it, reader, because God\nis supposed to superintend, by virtue of his infinite intelligence, the\nprocesses of universal nature, with the power to derogate from the laws\nhe himself appointed, he must be so capricious that constancy, harmony,\nand regularity are strangers to him. Supposing we take for granted the\npossibility of miracles, it does not ensue that God is about to disturb\nthe regularity of the universe at the bidding of him who asks. The\ncircumstances attending the performance of a miracle are so obvious that\nthere can be no room for doubting the constancy of law operation. Thus\nthe promotion of an evidently good purpose, which is the prime intent\nof a miracle, precludes the caprice which alone could render unsafe\nthe prediction of a physical occurrence. As well might we question the\nprobable course a man of well-known probity and discretion will pursue\nunder specified circumstances, with this difference: that as God is\ninfinitely wise, in proportion is the probability great that he will not\ndepart from his usual course, except for most extraordinary reasons.\nAnd if the safety of a prediction depending on such circumstances is\nnot as great as that which depends on mechanical necessity, we must\nbase our scepticism on very shadowy grounds. Father Secchi can compute\nthe next solar eclipse as well as Dr. Diaper; and if he should add,\nas he undoubtedly would, D. V., nobody will therefore be inclined to\nquestion the accuracy of his calculations or doubt the certainty of the\noccurrence. In preference, however, to the admission of a free agency in\nthe affairs of the universe, he subscribes to the stoicism of Grecian\nphilosophy, which subjects all things to a stern, unbending necessity,\nand makes men act by the impulse and determination of their nature.\n\u201cThis system offered a support in their hour of trial, not only to\nmany illustrious Greeks, but also to some of the great philosophers,\nstatesmen, generals, and emperors of Rome--a system which excluded chance\nfrom everything, and asserted the direction of all events by irresistible\nnecessity to the promotion of perfect good; a system of earnestness,\nsternness, austerity, virtue--a protest in favor of the common sense of\nmankind. And perhaps we shall not dissent from the remark of Montesquieu,\nwho affirms that the destruction of the Stoics was a great calamity to\nthe human race; for they alone made great citizens, great men.\u201d Men can\ntherefore be great in Draper\u2019s sense when they can no longer be virtuous;\nthey can acquire fame and win the gratitude of posterity when they can\nno longer merit; in a word, mechanical necessity; the same inexorable\nfatality which impels the river-waters to seek the sea, which turns the\nmagnet to the north, and makes the planets run their destined courses,\npresides over the conduct of men, and elevates, ennobles their actions.\nFree-will is chance; Providence an impertinent and debasing interference;\nand virtue the firmness, born of necessity, which made Cato end his days\nby his own hand. Such is Draper\u2019s substitute in the moral order for the\nteachings of Christianity--a system inevitably tending to build a Paphian\ntemple on the site of every Christian church, and to revive the infamies\nwhich the pen of Juvenal so scathingly satirized, and for which S. Paul\nrebuked the Romans in terms of frightful severity and reprobation. For\nwhat consideration can restrain human passions, if men deem their actions\nto be a necessary growth or expansion of their nature, if the good and\nbad in human deeds are as the tempest that wrecks, or the gentle dews\nthat fructify and animate the vegetable world? His whole book is a\ncumbersome and disjointed argument in favor of necessity, as opposed to\nfree agency; of law, as opposed to Providence. The manner of his refuting\nthe existence of divine Providence is so far novel and original that\nwe are tempted to reproduce it for those of our readers who prefer not\nto lose time by perusing the work in full. On page 243 he says: \u201cWere\nwe set in the midst of the great nebula of Orion, how transcendently\nmagnificent the scene! The vast transformation, the condensations of a\nfiery mist into worlds, might seem worthy of the immediate presence, the\nsupervision, of God; here, at our distant station, where millions of\nmiles are inappreciable to our eyes, and suns seem no bigger than motes\nin the air, that nebula is more insignificant than the faintest cloud.\nGalileo, in his description of the constellation of Orion, did not think\nit worth while so much as to mention it. The most rigorous theologian of\nthose days would have seen nothing to blame in imputing its origin to\nsecondary causes; nothing irreligious in failing to invoke the arbitrary\ninterference of God in its metamorphoses. If such be the conclusion\nto which we come respecting it, what would be the conclusion to which\nan Intelligence seated in it would come respecting us? It occupies an\nextent of space millions of miles greater than that of our solar system;\nwe are invisible from it, and therefore absolutely insignificant. Would\nsuch an Intelligence think it necessary to require for our origin and\nmaintenance the immediate intervention of God?\u201d That is to say, we are\ntoo insignificant for God\u2019s notice, because larger worlds roll through\nspace millions of miles from us, and God would have enough to do, if at\nall disposed to interfere, in looking after them, without occupying his\nimportant time with terra and her Liliputian denizens.\n\nIt is evident from this passage that Draper\u2019s mind can never rise to\na grand conception. It would not do to tell him that the Intelligence\nwhich superintends and controls the universe \u201creaches from end to end\npowerfully, and disposes all things mildly\u201d; that his infinite ken\n\u201cnumbers the hair of our heads,\u201d notes the sparrow\u2019s fall, and sweeps\nover the immensity of space with its thronging orbs, by one and the same\nact of a supreme mind. The furthest is as the nearest, the smallest as\nthe greatest, with Him who holds the universe in the hollow of his hand,\nand whose omnipotent will could create and conserve myriad constellations\ngreater than Orion. In the passage just quoted Dr. Draper commits the\nadditional blunder of confounding creation in general with a special view\nconveniently entertained by himself. His objection to creation, as before\nremarked, proceeds on the notion that creation is necessarily adverse to\nslow and continuous development, such as the facts of nature point out as\nhaving been the course through which the world has reached its present\nmaturity. He does not seem able to understand that, creation having\ntaken place, the whole set of physical phenomena which underlie recent\nphysical theories may have come to pass, as he maintains; only we must\nassign a beginning. His whole disagreement with the doctrine of creation\nis founded on this principle of a non-beginning, though he vainly strives\nto make it appear that he objects to it as interfering with regular,\nprogressive development. On page 239 he says: \u201cShall we, then, conclude\nthat the solar and the starry systems have been called into existence\nby God, and that he has then imposed upon them by his arbitrary will\nlaws under the control of which it was his pleasure that their movements\nshould be made?\n\n\u201cOr are there reasons for believing that these several systems came into\nexistence, not by such an arbitrary fiat, but through the operation of\nlaw?\u201d The shallowness of this philosophy the simplest can sound. As well\nmight we speak of a nation or state springing into existence through the\noperation of those laws which are subsequently enacted for its guidance.\nPrayer and the possibility of miracles are equally assailed by Draper\u2019s\ndoctrine of necessary law. His argument against the former is very\nclosely akin to J. J. Rousseau\u2019s objection to prayer. \u201cWhy should we,\u201d\nsays the pious author of _Emile_, \u201cpresume to hope that God will change\nthe order of the universe at our request? Does he not know better what is\nsuited to our wants than our short-sighted reason can perceive, to say\nnothing of the blasphemy which sets up our judgment in opposition to the\ndivine decrees?\u201d The opposition of Draper and Tyndall to prayer proceeds\nexactly on the same notion--the absurdity, namely, of supposing that our\npetitions can ever have the effect of changing the fixed and unalterable\nscheme of the universe. Tyndall went so far as to propose a prayer-gauge\nby separating the inmates of a hospital into praying and non-praying\nones, and seeing what proportion of the two classes would recover\nmore rapidly. Those three distinguished philosophers evidently never\nunderstood the nature and conditions of prayer, else they would not\nhold such language. God changes nothing at our instance, but counts our\nprayer in as a part of the very plan on which the universe was projected.\nIn the divine mind every determination of our will is perceived from\neternity, as indeed are all the events of creation. But we admit a\ndistinction of logical priority of some over others. Thus God\u2019s knowledge\nof our determination to act is logically subsequent to the determination\nitself, since the latter is the object of the divine knowledge, and\nmust have a logical precedence over it. Prayer, then, is compatible\nwith the regularity of the universe and infinite wisdom, because God,\nhaving perceived our prayer and observed the conditions accompanying it,\ndetermined in eternity to grant or to withhold it, and regulated the\nuniverse in accordance with such determination. Our prayers have been\ngranted or withheld in the long past as regards us, but not in the past\nas regards God, in whom there is no change nor shadow of a change. It is\nevident from this how absurd is Tyndall\u2019s notion of testing the efficacy\nof prayer in the manner he proposed, and how unjust is Draper\u2019s constant\narrow-shooting at shrine-cures and petitions for health addressed to God\nand to his saints. Nor does the granting of a prayer necessarily imply a\ndeparture from the natural course of events. The foreseen goodness and\npiety of a man can have determined God to allow the natural order and\nsequence of events to proceed in such a manner as to develop conformably\nto his petition. In this there is no disturbance of the natural order,\nsince the expression means nothing else than the regularity with which\nphenomena occur in their usual way--a fact entirely consistent with the\ntheory of prayer.\n\nIt is true, however, that the history of the church exhibits many\nwell-authenticated examples of prayers being granted under circumstances\nwhich implied the performance of a miracle or a suspension of the effects\nof law. To this Draper opposes three arguments: first, the inherent\nimpossibility of miracles; secondly, the capricious disturbance of the\nuniverse which would ensue; and, thirdly, the impossibility of discerning\nbetween miracles and juggling tricks or the marvellous achievements\nof science. To the first argument we would return an _argumentum ad\nhominem_. While Dr. Draper sneeringly repudiates a miracle which implies\na derogation from physical law, he unwittingly admits a miracle tenfold\nmore astounding. The argument was directed against Voltaire long years\nago, and has been repeatedly employed since.\n\nSuppose, then, that a whole cityful of people should testify to the\nresurrection of a dead man from the grave; would we be justified in\nrejecting the testimony on the sole ground of the physical impossibility\nof the occurrence? We would thereby suppose that a whole population,\ndivided into the high and low born, the ignorant and the educated, the\ngood and the bad, with interests, passions, hopes, prejudices, and\naspirations as wide apart as the poles, should secretly conspire to\nimpose on the rest of the world, and this so successfully that not even\none would reveal the gigantic deception. History abounds in instances\nof the sort, in recitals of sudden cures witnessed by thousands, of\nconflagrations suddenly checked, of plagues disappearing in a moment;\nand if we are pleased to refuse the testimony because of the physical\nimpossibility, we are reduced to the necessity of admitting, not a\nmiracle, but a monstrosity in the moral order. It is true that Dr. Draper\nquietly ignores this feature of the case, and is satisfied with the\nobjection to the possibility of miracles on physical grounds, without\ntaking the pains to inquire whether circumstances can be conceived\nin which this physical possibility may be set aside. Complacently\nresting his argument here, the \u201cimpartial\u201d doctor, whose lofty mind\nranges in the pure ether of immaculate truth, accuses the church of\nfilling the air with sprites whose duty it is to perform miracles every\nmoment. Recklessly and breathlessly he repeats and multiplies the old,\ntime-worn, oft-refuted, and ridiculous stories which stain the pages of\nlong-forgotten Protestant controversialists, and which well-informed\nmen of to-day not in communion with the church would blush to repeat,\nas likely to stamp their intelligence with vulgarity and credulity.\nNot so with Dr. Draper; for not only does he rehash what for years we\nhave been hearing from Pecksniffs and Chadbands _usque ad nauseam_,\nbut he introduces his stale stories in the most incongruous manner.\nShrine-cures, as he calls them, he finds to have gone hand in hand with\nthe absence of carpeted floors, and relic-worship with smoky chimneys,\npoor raiment, and unwholesome food. No doubt his far-seeing mind has\nbeen able to discover a necessary relation between those things which\nthe ordinary judgment would pronounce most incongruous and dissonant.\nDraper not only refuses to recognize the long and laborious efforts of\nthe church to ameliorate the condition of the masses, to lift them from\nthe misery and insanitary surroundings into which they had sunk during\nthe night of Roman decadence, and in which the internecine feuds of the\nrobber barons and princes, of feudal masters and vassals, had left them,\nbut he impudently charges the church with being the author of their\nwrongs and wretchedness. It is true the same charge has been made before\nby vindictive and passionate writers, and it receives no additional\nweight at the hands of Dr. Draper by being left, like Mahomet\u2019s coffin,\nwithout prop or support. Since Maitland\u2019s work first disabused Englishmen\nof the opinions they had formed concerning medi\u00e6val priest-craft and\nchurch tyranny, no writer has had the hardihood to revive the exploded\nslanders of Stillingfleet and Fletcher, till this latest anti-papist felt\nthat he had received a mission to do so.\n\nDraper\u2019s belief that the admitted possibility of miracles would tend to\ndisturb the regular succession of natural phenomena is simply puerile;\nfor miracles occur only under such circumstances as all men understand\nto preclude caprice and irregularity. Thus the daily-recurring mystery\nof transubstantiation still takes place upon our altars, and, so far as\nthat tremendous fact is concerned, we might all cling to the idea of\nnecessary, immutable law; for no order is disturbed, no planet fails\nto perform its accustomed revolution. As for its being impossible for\nCatholics to distinguish between real miracles and juggleries, it is\nvery evident that, in keeping with his general opinion of believers in\nmiracles, he must rate their standard of intelligence at an exceedingly\nlow figure. A miracle supposes a derogation of the laws of the physical\nworld, and is never accepted till its character in this sense has been\nthoroughly proved. A Protestant writer of high intelligence, who not long\nsince was present in Rome at an investigation into the evidence adduced\nto prove the genuineness of certain miracles attributed to a servant\nof God, in whose behalf the title of venerable was demanded, remarked\nthat, had the same searching scrutiny been employed in every legal case\nwhich had fallen under his observation, he would not hesitate to place\nimplicit confidence in the rigid impartiality of the judge, the logical\nnature of the evidence, and the unimpeachable veracity of the witnesses.\nDr. Draper, therefore, supposes, on the part of those whom he claims\nto be incapable or unwilling to discriminate between miracles, in the\nsense defined, and mere feats of legerdemain, an unparalleled stupidity\nor contemptible roguery. Since, however, he constitutes himself supreme\njudge in the case, we will place in juxtaposition with this judgment\nanother, which will readily show to what extent his discriminating sense\nmay be trusted. On page 298 he says: \u201cThe Virgin Mary, we are assured\nby the evangelists, had accepted the duties of married life, and borne\nto her husband several children.\u201d As this is a serious accusation, and\nthe doctor, in presenting it, desires to maintain his high reputation\nas an erudite hermeneutist and strict logician by adducing irrefragable\nproofs in its support, he triumphantly refers to S. Matt. i. 25. \u201cAnd he\nknew her not till she brought forth her first-born.\u201d We are reluctant to\nmention, when it is question of the accuracy of so learned a man as Dr.\nDraper, that among the Hebrews the word _until_ denotes only what has\noccurred, without regard to the future; as when God says: \u201cI am till\nyou grow old.\u201d If Draper\u2019s exegesis is correct concerning S. Matt. i.\n25, then we must infer that God as surely implies, in the words quoted,\nthat he will cease to exist at a specified time, as he explicitly states\nhe will exist till that time. But, not satisfied with this display of\nScriptural erudition, he refers, in support of the same statement, to\nS. Matt. xiii. 55, 56; and, because mention is there made of Jesus\u2019\nbrethren and sisters, the latest foe to Mary\u2019s virginity concludes that\nthese were brothers and sisters by consanguinity. What a large number of\nbrothers and sisters our preachers of every Sunday must have, who address\nby these endearing terms their numerous congregations! If, however,\nDr. Draper desires to ascertain who these brethren and sisters were,\nhe will find that they were cousins to our divine Saviour; it being a\nfavored custom among the Jews thus to style near relatives. S. Matt,\nxxvii. 56 and S. John xix. 25 will define the exact relation the persons\nin question bore to the Saviour. Such are the penetration, profundity,\nand erudition of the man who brands as imbeciles, dupes, and rogues the\nmajor part of Christendom! But perhaps it may be said that hermeneutics\nare not Draper\u2019s _forte_, owing to his supreme contempt of the New\nand Old Testaments, and that he has won his laurels in the field of\nphilosophy. We have already hinted that his perspicuity in philosophical\ndiscussions is in advance of his subtlety, for the reason that he keeps\nwell on the surface, and exhibits a commendable anxiety not to venture\nbeyond his depth. At times, however, an intrepidity, born of ignorance,\novercomes his native timidity, and, with amazing confidence, he plays\nthe oft-assumed _r\u00f4le_ of the bull in a china-shop. Mixing himself up\nwith the Arian dispute concerning the Blessed Trinity, he inclines to the\nanti-Trinitarian view, because a son cannot be coeval with his father!\nThe carnal-minded Arius thus reasoned, and it is no wonder Dr. Draper\nagrees with him. Had Dr. Draper taken down from his library shelf the\n_Summa_ of S. Thomas, the great extinguisher of Draper\u2019s philosophical\nbeacon, Averro\u00ebs, he would have received such enlightenment as would have\nmade him blush to concur in a proposition so utterly unphilosophical. The\nFather, as principle of the Son\u2019s existence, is co-existent with him as\nGod, and logically only prior to him as father, just as a circle is the\nsource whence the equality of the radii springs; though, given a circle,\nthe equality of the radii co-exists, and, if an eternally existing circle\nbe conceived, an eternal equality of radii ensues. The priority is\ntherefore one of reason, viz., the priority of a cause to a co-existing\neffect. But we have said _satis superque_ concerning Draper and his book.\nWe deplore, not so much the publication of the volume, as the unhealthy\ncondition of the public mind which can hail its appearance with welcome.\nAs an appetite for unnatural food argues a diseased state of the bodily\nsystem, so we infer that men\u2019s minds are sadly diseased when they take\npleasure in what is so hollow, false, and shallow as Dr. Draper\u2019s latest\naddition to anti-Catholic literature. We have been obliged to suppress\na considerable portion of the criticisms we had prepared on particular\nportions of this rambling production, in order not to take up too much\nspace. We consider it not to be worth the space we have actually given\nto its refutation. And yet, of such a book, one of our principal daily\npapers has been so unadvised or thoughtless as to say that it ought to\nbe made a _text-book_. To this proposition we answer by the favorite\nexclamation of the wife of Sir Thomas More: \u201cTILLEY-VALLEY!\u201d\n\n\nSTRAY LEAVES FROM A PASSING LIFE.\n\nCHAPTER II.\n\nA DINNER AT THE GRANGE--A PAIR OF OWLS.\n\nAs we passed up the gravel walk of the Grange a face was trying its\nprettiest to look scoldingly out of the window, but could not succeed.\nWhen the eyes lighted upon my companion, face and eyes together\ndisappeared. It was a face that I had seen grow under my eyes, but it\nhad never occurred to me hitherto that it had grown so beautiful. Could\nthat tall young lady, who did the duties of mistress of the Grange so\ndemurely, be the little fairy whom only yesterday I used to toss upon\nmy shoulder and carry out into the barnyard to see the fowls, one hand\ntwined around my neck, and the other waving her magic wand with the\naction of a little queen--the same magic wand that I had spent a whole\nhour and a half--a boy\u2019s long hour and a half--in peeling and notching\nwith my broken penknife, engraving thereon the cabalistic characters\n\u201cF. N.,\u201d which, as all the world was supposed to know, signified\n\u201cFairy Nell\u201d? And that was \u201cFairy\u201d who had just disappeared from the\nhoneysuckles. Faith! a far more dangerous fairy than when I was her\nwar-horse and she my imperious queen.\n\nI introduced my companion as an old school-fellow of mine to my father\nand sister. So fine-looking a young man could not fail to impress my\nfather favorably, who, notwithstanding his seclusion, had a keen eye\nfor persons and appearances. How so fine-looking a young man impressed\nmy sister I cannot say, for it is not given to me to read ladies\u2019\nhearts. The dinner was passing pleasantly enough, when one of those odd\nrevulsions of feeling that come to one at times in the most inopportune\nsituations came over me. I am peculiarly subject to fits of this nature,\nand only time and years have enabled me to overcome them to any extent.\nBy the grave of a friend who was dear to me, and in presence of his\nweeping relatives, some odd recollection has risen up as it were out of\nthe freshly-dug grave, and grinned at me over the corpse\u2019s head, till I\nhardly knew whether the tears in my eyes were brought there by laughter\nor by grief. Just on the attainment of some success, for which I had\nstriven for months or years, may be, and to which I had devoted every\nenergy that was in me, while the flush of it was fresh on my cheek and in\nmy heart, and the congratulations of friends pouring in on me, has come\na drear feeling like a winter wind across my summer garden to blast the\nroses and wither the dew-laden buds just opening to the light. Why this\nis so I cannot explain; that it is so I know. It is a mockery of human\nnature, and falls on the harmony of the soul like that terrible \u201cha! ha!\u201d\nof the fiend who stands by all the while when poor Faust and innocent\nMarguerite are opening their hearts to each other.\n\n\u201cAnd so, Mr. Goodal, you are an old friend of Roger\u2019s? He has told me\nabout most of his friends. It is strange he never mentioned your name\nbefore.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is strange,\u201d I broke in hurriedly. \u201cKenneth is the oldest of all,\ntoo. I found him first in the thirteenth century. He bears his years\nwell, does he not, Fairy?\u201d\n\nMy father and Nellie both looked perplexed. Kenneth laughed.\n\n\u201cWhat in the world are you talking about, Roger?\u201d asked my father in\namazement.\n\n\u201cWhere do you think I found him? Burrowing at the tomb of the Herberts,\nas though he were anxious to get inside and pass an evening with them.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd judging the past by the present, a very agreeable evening I should\nhave spent,\u201d said Kenneth gayly.\n\n\u201cWell, sir, I will not deny that you would have found excellent company,\u201d\nresponded my father, pleased at the compliment. \u201cThe Herberts. ..\u201d he\nbegan.\n\n\u201cFor heaven\u2019s sake, sir, let them rest in their grave. I have already\nsurfeited Mr. Goodal with the history of the Herberts.\u201d Kenneth was about\nto interpose, but I went on: \u201cA strangely-mixed assembly the Herberts\nwould make in the other world; granting that there is another world, and\nthat the members of our family condescend to know each other there.\u201d\n\n\u201cRoger!\u201d said Nellie in a warning tone, while my father reddened and\nshifted uneasily in his chair.\n\n\u201cIf there be another world and the Herberts are there, it is impossible\nthat they can live together _en famille_. It can scarcely be even a\nbowing acquaintance,\u201d I added, feeling all the while that I was as rude\nand undutiful as though I had risen from my chair and dealt my father a\nblow in the face. He remembered, as I did not, what was due to our guest,\nand said coldly:\n\n\u201cRoger, don\u2019t you think that you might advantageously change the subject?\nMr. Goodal, I am very far behind the age, and not equal to what I suppose\nis the prevailing tone among clever young gentlemen of the present day. I\nam very old fogy, very conservative. Try that sherry.\u201d\n\nThe quiet severity of his tone cut me to the quick. The spirit of\nmischief must have been very near my elbow at that moment. Instead of\ntaking my lesson in good part, I felt like a whipped school-boy, and,\nregardless of poor Nellie\u2019s pale face and Kenneth\u2019s silence, went on\nresolutely:\n\n\u201cWell, sir, my ancestors are to me a most interesting topic of\nconversation, and I take it that a Herbert only shows a proper regard for\nhis own flesh and blood if he inquire after their eternal no less than\ntheir temporal welfare. What has become of all the Herberts, I should\ndearly like to know?\u201d\n\n\u201cI know, sir, what will become of one of them, if he continues his silly\nand unmannerly cynicism,\u201d said my father, now fairly aroused. He was very\neasily aroused, and I wonder that he restrained himself so long. \u201cI\ncannot imagine, Mr. Goodal, what possesses the young men of the present\nday, or what they are coming to. Irreverence for the dead, irreverence\nfor the living, irreverence for all that is worthy of reverence, seems\nto stamp their character. I trust, sir, indeed I believe, that you have\nbetter feelings than to think that life and death, here and hereafter,\nare fit subjects for a boy\u2019s sneer. I am sure that you have that respect\nfor church and state and--and things established that is becoming a\ngentleman. I can only regret that my son is resolved on going as fast as\nhe can to--to--\u201d He glanced at Nellie, and remained silent.\n\n\u201cI know where you would say, sir; and in the event of my happy arrival\nthere, I shall beyond doubt meet a large section of the Herberts who\nhave gone before me--that is, if church and things established are to\nbe believed. When one comes to think of it, what an appalling number of\nHerberts must have gone to the devil!\u201d\n\n\u201cNellie, my girl, you had better retire, since your brother forgets how\nto conduct himself in the presence of ladies and gentlemen.\u201d\n\nBut Nellie sat still with scared face, and, though by this time my heart\nached, I could not help continuing:\n\n\u201cBut, father, what are we to believe, or do we believe anything? Up\nto a certain period the Herberts were what their present head--whom\nheaven long preserve!--would call rank Papists. Old Sir Roger, whose\nepitaph I found Mr. Goodal endeavoring to decipher this afternoon, was a\nCrusader, a soldier of the cross which, in our enlightenment and hatred\nof idolatry, we have torn down from the altar where he worshipped, and\noverturned that altar itself. Was it for love of church and things\nestablished, as we understand them, that he sailed away to the Holy Land,\nand in his pious zeal knocked the life out of many an innocent painim?\nWas good Abbot Herbert, whose monumental brass in the chancel of S.\nWilfrid\u2019s presents him kneeling and adoring before the chalice that he\nverily believed to hold the blood of Christ, a worshipper of the same\nGod and a holder of the same faith as my uncle, Archdeacon Herbert, who\ndenies and abhors the doctrine of Transubstantiation, although his two\ndaughters, who are of the highest High-Church Anglicans, devoutly believe\nin something approaching it, and, to prove their faith, have enrolled\nthemselves both in the Confraternity of the Cope, whose recent discovery\nhas set Parliament and all the bench of bishops abuzz? Is it all a humbug\nall the way down, or were the stout, Crusading, Catholic Herberts real\nand right, while we are wrong and a religious sham? Does the Reformation\nmark us off into white sheep and black sheep, consigning them to hell and\nus to heaven? If not, why were they not Protestants, and why are we not\nCatholics, or why are we all not unbelievers? Can the same heaven hold\nall alike--those who adored and adore the Sacrament as God, and those who\npronounce adoration of the Sacrament idolatry and an abomination?\u201d\n\nMy father\u2019s only reply to this lengthy and irresistible burst of eloquent\nreasoning was to ask Nellie, who had sat stone-still, and whose eyes were\ndistended in mingled horror and wonder, for a cup of coffee. My long\nharangue seemed to have a soothing effect upon my nerves. I looked at\nGoodal, who was looking at his spoon. I felt so sorry that I could have\nwished all my words unsaid.\n\n\u201cMy dear father, and my dear Kenneth, and you too, Nellie, pardon me. I\nhave been unmannerly, grossly so. I brought you here, Kenneth, to spend\na pleasant evening, and help us to spend one, and some evil genius--a\n_daimon_ that I carry about with me, and cannot always whip into good\nbehavior--has had possession of me for the last half-hour. It was he that\nspoke in me, and not my father\u2019s son, who, were he true to the lessons\nand example of his parent, would as soon think of committing suicide as\na breach of hospitality or good manners. Now, as you are antiquarians,\nI leave you a little to compare notes, while I take Fairy out to trip\nupon the green, and console her for my passing heresy with orthodoxy and\nTupper, who, I need not assure you, is her favorite poet, as he is of\nall true English country damsels. There is the moon beginning to rise;\nand there is a certain melting, a certain watery, quality about Tupper\nadmirably adapted to moonlight.\u201d\n\nThe rest of the evening passed more pleasantly. After a little we all\nwent out on the lawn, and sat there together. The moonlight nights of the\nEnglish summer are very lovely. That night was as a thousand such, yet it\nseemed to me that I had never felt the solemn beauty of nature so deeply\nor so sensibly before. S. Wilfrid\u2019s shone out high and gray and solemn\nin the moon. Through the yew-trees of the priory down below gleamed the\nwhite tombstones of the churchyard. A streak of silver quivering through\nthe land marked the wandering course of the Leigh. And high up among the\nbeeches and the elms sat we, the odors of the afternoon still lingering\non the air, the melody of a nightingale near by wooing the heart of the\nnight with its mystic notes, and the moonlight shimmering on drowsy trees\nand slumbering foliage that not a breath in all the wide air stirred.\n\n\u201cThere is a soft quiet in our English nights, a kind of home feeling\nabout them, that makes them very lovable, and that I have experienced\nnowhere else,\u201d said Kenneth.\n\n\u201cOh! I am so glad to hear you say that, Mr. Goodal.\u201d\n\n\u201cMay I ask why, Miss Herbert?\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, I hardly know. Because, I suppose, I am so very English.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo is Tupper, and Fairy swears by Tupper. At least she would, if she\nswore at all,\u201d remarked her brother, whose hair was pulled for his pains.\n\n\u201cWere you ever abroad, Miss Herbert?\u201d\n\n\u201cNever; papa wished to take me often, but I refused, because I suppose\nagain I am so very English.\u201d\n\n\u201cToo English to face sea-sickness,\u201d said her brother.\n\n\u201cI believe the fault is mine, Mr. Goodal,\u201d said her father. \u201cYou see the\ngout never leaves me for long together. I am liable at any time to an\nattack; and gout is a bad companion on foreign travel. It is bad enough\nat home, as Nellie finds, who insists on being my only nurse; and I am so\nselfish that I have not the heart to let her go, and I believe she has\nhardly the heart to leave me.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! I don\u2019t wish to go. Cousin Edith goes every year, and we have such\nbattles when she comes back. She cannot endure this climate, she cannot\nendure the people, she cannot endure the fashions, the language is too\nharsh and grating for her ear, the cooking is barbarous--every thing is\nbad. Now, I would rather stay at home and be happy in my ignorance than\nlearn such lessons as that,\u201d said honest Nellie.\n\n\u201cYou would never learn such lessons.\u201d\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t you think so? But tell us now, Mr. Goodal, do not you, who have\nseen so much, find England very dull?\u201d\n\n\u201cExcessively. That is one of its chief beauties. Dulness is one of our\nnational privileges; and Roger here will tell you we pride ourselves on\nit.\u201d\n\n\u201cKenneth would say that dulness is only another word for what you would\ncall our beautiful home-life,\u201d said the gentleman appealed to.\n\n\u201cDulness indeed! I don\u2019t find it dull,\u201d broke in Nellie, bridling up.\n\n\u201cNo, the dairy and the kitchen; the dinner and tea; the Priory on a\nSunday; the shopping excursions into Leighstone, where there is nothing\nto buy; the garden and the vinery; the visits to Mrs. Jones and Mrs.\nKnowles; to Widow Wickham, who is blind; to Mrs. Staynes, who is deaf,\nand whose husband ran away from her because, as he said, he feared that\nhe would rupture a blood-vessel in trying to talk to her; the parish\nschool and the charity hospital, make the life of a well-behaved young\nEnglish lady quite a round of excitement. There are such things, too, as\nriding to hounds, and a ball once in a while, and croquet parties, and\npicnics, and the Eleusinian mysteries of the tea-table. Who shall say\nthat, with all these opportunities for wild dissipation, English country\nlife is dull?\u201d\n\n\u201cRoger wearies of Leighstone, you perceive,\u201d said my father. \u201cWell, I\nwas restless once myself; but the gout laid hold of me early in life, and\nit has kept its hold.\u201d\n\n\u201cNow, Mr. Goodal, in all your wanderings, tell me where you have seen\nanything so delightful as this? Have you seen a ruin more venerable than\nS. Wilfrid\u2019s, nodding to sleep like a gray old monk on the top of the\nhill there? Every stone of it has a history; some of them gay, many of\nthem grave. Look at the Priory nestling down below--history again. See\nhow gently the Leigh wanders away through the country. Every cottage and\nfarm on its banks I know, and those in them. Could you find a sweeter\nperfume in all the world than steals up from my own garden here, where\nall the flowers are mine, and I sometimes think half know me? All around\nis beauty and peace, and has been so ever since I was a child. Why, then,\nshould I wish to wander?\u201d\n\nSomething more liquid even than their light glistened in Fairy\u2019s eyes, as\nshe turned them on Kenneth at the close. He seemed startled at her sudden\noutburst, and, after a moment, said almost gravely:\n\n\u201cYou are right, Miss Herbert. The beauty that we do not know we may\nadmire, but hardly love. It is like a painting that we glance at, and\npass on to see something else. There is no sense of ownership about it. I\nhave wandered, with a crippled friend by my side, through art galleries\nwhere all that was beautiful in nature and art was drawn up in a way\nto fascinate the eye and delight the senses. Yet my crippled friend\nnever suffered by contrast; never felt his deformity there. Knowledge,\nassociation, friendship, love--these are the great beautifiers. The\nlittle that we can really call our own is dearer to us than all the\nworld--is our world, in fact. An Italian sunset steals and enwraps the\nsenses into, as it were, a third heaven. A London fog is one of the most\nhideous things in this world; yet a genuine Londoner finds something in\nhis native fog dear to him as the sunset to the Italian, and I confess\nto the barbarism myself. On our arrival the other day we were greeted by\na yellow, dense, smoke-colored fog, such as London alone can produce. It\nwas more than a year since I had seen one, and I enjoyed it. I breathed\nfreely again, for I was at home. You will understand, then, how I\nappreciate your enthusiasm about Leighstone; and if Leighstone had many\nlike Miss Herbert, I can well understand why its people should be content\nto stay at home.\u201d\n\nNellie laughed. \u201cI am afraid, Mr. Goodal, that you have brought back\nsomething more than your taste for fogs and your homely Saxon from Italy.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, a more rooted love for my own land, a truer appreciation of my\ncountrymen, and more ardent admiration of my fair countrywomen.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! now you are talking Italian. But, honestly, which country do you\nfind the most interesting of all you have seen?\u201d\n\n\u201cMy own, Miss Herbert.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe nation of shop-keepers!\u201d ejaculated I.\n\n\u201cOf Magna Charta,\u201d interposed my father, who, ready enough to condemn\nhis age and his country himself, was Englishman enough to allow no other\nperson to do so with impunity.\n\n\u201cOf hearth and home, of cheerful firesides and family circles,\u201d added\nNellie.\n\n\u201cOf work-houses and treadmills,\u201d I growled.\n\n\u201cOf law and order, of civil and religious liberty,\u201d corrected my father.\n\n\u201cWhich are of very recent introduction and very insecure tenure,\u201d added I.\n\n\u201cThey formed the corner-stone of the great charter on which our English\nstate is built--a charter that has become our glory and the world\u2019s envy.\u201d\n\n\u201cTo be broken into and rifled within a century; to be set under the\nfoot of a Henry VIII. and pinned to the petticoat of an Elizabeth; to\nbe mocked at in the death of a Mary, Queen of Scots, and a Charles; to\nbe thrown out of window by a Cromwell. Our charters and our liberties!\nOh! we are a thrifty race. We can pocket them all when it suits our\nconvenience, and flaunt them to the world on exhibition-days. Our charter\ndid not save young Raymond Herbert his neck for sticking to his faith\nduring the Reformation, though I believe that same charter provided above\nall things that the church of God should be free; and a Chief-Justice\nHerbert sat on the bench and pronounced sentence on the boy, not daring\nto wag a finger in defence of his own flesh and blood. Of course the\nCatholic Church was not the church of God, for so the queen\u2019s majesty\ndecreed; and to Chief-Justice Herbert we owe these lands, such of them\nas were saved. Great heaven! we talk of nobility--English nobility; the\nproudest race under the sun. The proudest race under the sun, who would\nscorn to kiss the Pope\u2019s slipper, grovelled in the earth, one and all of\nthem, under the heel of an Elizabeth, and the other day trembled at the\nfrown of a George the Fourth!\u201d\n\nI need not dwell on the fact that in those days I had a particular\nfondness for the sound of my own voice. I gloried in what seemed to me\nstartling paradoxes, and flashes of wisdom that loosened bolts and rivets\nof prejudice, shattered massive edifices of falsehood, undermined in a\ntwinkling social and moral weaknesses, which, of course, had waited in\nsnug security all these long years for my coming to expose them to the\nscorn of a wondering world. What a hero I was, what a trenchant manner\nI had of putting things, what a keen intellect lay concealed under that\ncalm exterior, and what a deep debt the world would have owed me had\nit only listened in time to my Cassandra warnings, it will be quite\nunnecessary for me to point out.\n\n\u201cI suppose I ought to be very much ashamed of myself,\u201d said Kenneth\ngood-humoredly; \u201cbut I still confess that I find my own country the most\ninteresting of any that I have seen. It may be that the very variety,\nthe strange contradictions in our national life and character, noticed\nby our radical here, are in themselves no small cause for that interest.\nIf we have had a Henry VIII., we have had an Alfred and an Edward; if we\nhave had an Elizabeth, we have also had a Maud; if our nobles cowered\nbefore a woman, they faced a man at Runnymede, and at their head were\nEnglish churchmen, albeit not English churchmen of the stamp of to-day.\nIf we broke through our charter, let us at least take the merit of having\nrestored something of it, although it is somewhat mortifying to find that\ncenturies of wandering and of history and discovery only land us at our\nold starting-point.\u201d\n\n\u201cI give in. Bah! we are spoiling the night with history, while all\nnature is smiling at us in her beautiful calm.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! you have driven away the nightingale; it sings no more,\u201d said Fairy.\n\n\u201cSurely some one can console us for its absence,\u201d said Kenneth, glancing\nat Nellie.\n\n\u201cI do not understand Italian,\u201d she laughed back.\n\n\u201cYour denial is a confession of guilt. I heard Roger call you Fairy.\nThere be good fairies and bad. You would not be placed among the bad?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy not?\u201d\n\n\u201cBecause all the bad fairies are old.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd ride on broomsticks,\u201d added I.\n\nUnlike her brother, who had not a note of music in him, Fairy had a\nbeautiful voice, which had had the additional advantage of a very careful\ncultivation. She sang us a simple old ballad that touched our hearts; and\nwhen that was done, we insisted on another. Then the very trees seemed\nto listen, the flowers to open as to a new sunlight, and shed their\nsweetness in sympathy, as she sang one of those ballads of sighs and\ntears, hope and despair and sorrowful lamentation, caught from the heart\nof a nation whose feelings have been stirred to the depths to give forth\nall that was in them in the beautiful music that their poet has wedded to\nwords. The ballad was \u201cThe Last Rose of Summer,\u201d and as the notes died\naway the foliage seemed to move and murmur with applause, while after a\npause the nightingale trilled out again its wonderful song in rivalry.\nThere was silence for a short time, which was broken by Kenneth saying:\n\n\u201cI must break up Fairy-land, and go back to the Black Bull.\u201d\n\nBut of this we would not hear. It was agreed that Kenneth should take\nup his quarters with us. The conversation outlasted our usual hours at\nLeighstone. Kenneth sustained the burden; and with a wonderful grace and\ncharm he did so. He had read as well as travelled, and more deeply and\nextensively than is common with men of his years; for his conversation\nwas full of that easy and delightful illustration that only a student\nwhose sharp angles have been worn off by contact with the world outside\nhis study can command and gracefully use, leaving the gem of knowledge\nthat a man possesses, be it small or great, perfect in its setting. Much\nof what he related was relieved by some shrewd and happy remark of his\nown that showed him a close observer, while a genial good-nature and\ntendency to take the best possible view of things diffused itself through\nall. It was late when my father said:\n\n\u201cMr. Goodal, you have tempted me into inviting an attack of my old enemy\nby sitting here so long. There is no necessity for your going to-morrow,\nis there, since you are simply on a walking tour? Roger is a great\nrambler, and there are many pretty spots about Leighstone, many an old\nruin that will repay a visit. Indeed, ruins are the most interesting\nobjects of these days. My walking days, I fear, are over. A visitor is a\nGodsend to us down here, and, though you ramblers soon tire of one spot,\nthere is more in Leighstone than can be well seen in a day.\u201d\n\nThus pressed, he consented, and our little party broke up.\n\n\u201cAre you an owl!\u201d I asked Kenneth, as my father and sister retired.\n\n\u201cSomewhat,\u201d he replied, smiling.\n\n\u201cThen come to my room, and you shall give your to-whoo to my to-whit. I\nwas born an owl, having been introduced into this world, I am informed,\nin the small hours; and the habits of the species cling to me. Take that\neasy-chair and try this cigar. These slippers will ease your feet. Though\nnot a drinking man, properly so called, I confess to a liking for the\njuice of the grape. The fondness for it is still strong in the sluggish\nblood of the Norse, and I cannot help my blood. Therefore, at an hour\nlike this, a night-cap will not hurt us. Of what color shall it be? Of\nthe deep claret tint of Bordeaux, the dark-red hue of Burgundy, or the\ngolden amber of the generous Spaniard? Though, as I tell you, not a\ndrinking man, I think a good cigar and a little wine vastly improves the\nmoonlight, provided the quantity be not such as to obscure the vision of\neye or brain. That is not exactly a theory of my own. It was constantly\nand deeply impressed upon me by a very reverend friend of mine, with whom\nI read for a year. Indeed I fear his faith in port was deeper than his\nfaith in the Pentateuch. The drunkard is to me the lowest of animals,\never has been, and ever will be. Were the world ruled--as it is scarcely\nlikely to be just yet--by my suggestions, the fate of the Duke of\nClarence should be the doom of every drunkard, with only this difference;\nthat each one be drowned in his own favorite liquor, soaked there till\nhe dissolved, and the contents ladled out and poured down the throat of\nwhoever, by any accident, mistook the gutter for his bed. You will pardon\nmy air; in my own room I am supreme lord and master. Kenneth, my boy,\nI like you. I feel as though I had known you all my life. That must\nhave been the reason for my unruly, ungracious, and unmannerly explosion\ndown-stairs at dinner. I have an uncontrollable habit of breaking out in\nthat style sometimes, and the effect on my father, whom I need not tell\nyou I love and revere above all men living, is what you see.\u201d\n\nHe smoked in silence a few seconds, and then, turning on me, suddenly\nasked:\n\n\u201cWhere did you learn your theology?\u201d\n\nThe question was the last in the world that would have presented itself\nto me, and was a little startling, but put in too earnest a manner for\na sneer, and too kindly to give offence. I answered blandly that I was\nguiltless of laying claim to any special theology.\n\n\u201cWell, your opinions, then--the faith, the reasons, on which you ground\nyour life and views of life. Your conversation at times drifts into a\ncertain tone that makes me ask. Where or what have you studied?\u201d\n\n\u201cNowhere; nothing; everywhere; everything; everybody; I read whatever\nI come across. And as for theology--for my theology, such as it is--I\nsuppose I am chiefly indebted to that remarkably clever organ of opinion\nknown as the _Journal of the Age_.\u201d\n\nA few whiffs in silence, and then he said:\n\n\u201cI thought so.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat did you think?\u201d\n\n\u201cThat you were a reader of the _Journal of the Age_. Most youngsters who\nread anything above a sporting journal or a sensational novel are. I have\nbeen a student of it myself--a very close student. I knew the editor\nwell. We were at one time bosom friends. He took me in training, and I\nrecognized the symptoms in you at once.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow so?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe _Journal of the Age_--and it has numerous admirers and\nimitators--is, in these days, the ablest organ of a great and almost\nuniversal worship of an awful trinity that has existed since man was\nfirst created; and the name of that awful trinity is--the devil, the\nworld, and the flesh.\u201d\n\nI stared at him in silent astonishment. All the gayety of his manner, all\nits softness, had gone, and he seemed in deadly earnest, as he went on:\n\n\u201cThis worship is not paraded in its grossest form. Not at all. It is\ngraced by all that wit can give and undisciplined intellect devise. It\nhas a brilliant sneer for Faith, a scornful smile for Hope, and a chill\npoliteness for Charity. I revelled in it for a time. Heaven forgive me! I\nwas happy enough to escape.\u201d\n\n\u201cWith what result?\u201d\n\n\u201cBriefly with this: with the conviction that man did not make this world;\nthat he did not make himself, or send himself into it; that consequently\nhe was not and could never be absolutely his own master; that he was\nsent in and called out by Another, by a Greater than he, by a Creator,\nby a God. I became and am a Catholic, to find that what for a time I had\nblindly worshipped were the three enemies against whom I was warned to\nfight all the days of my life.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd the _Journal of the Age_?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe editor cut me as soon as he found I believed in God in preference to\nhimself. He is the fiercest opponent of Papal Infallibility with whom I\never had the honor of acquaintance.\u201d\n\n\u201cI cannot say that your words and the manner in which you speak them\ndo not impress me. Still, it never occurred to me that so insignificant\na being as Roger Herbert was worthy the combined attack of the three\nformidable adversaries you have named. What have the devil, the world,\nand the flesh to do with me?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, there is the difficulty, not only with Roger Herbert, but with\neverybody else. It does seem strange that influences so powerful and\nmysterious should be for ever ranged against such wretched little beings\nas we are, whom a toothache tortures and a fever kills. Yet surely man\u2019s\nlife on earth is not all fever and its prevention, toothache and its\ncure, or a course of eating, doctoring, and tailoring. If we believe at\nall in a life that can never end, in a soul, surely that is something\nworth thought and care. An eternal life that must range itself on one\nside or the other seems worthy of a struggle between the powers of good\nand evil, if good and evil there be. Nay, man is bound of his own right,\nof his own free will, of his very existence, to choose between one and\nthe other, to be good or be bad, and not stumble on listlessly as a thing\nof chance, tossed at will from one to the other. We do not sufficiently\nrealize the greatest of our obligations. We should feel disgraced if we\ndid not pay our tailor or our wine-merchant; but such a thought never\npresents itself to us when the question concerns God or the devil, or\nthat part of us that does not wear clothes and does not drink wine.\u201d\n\nHe had risen while he was speaking, and spoke with an energy and\nearnestness I had never yet witnessed in any man. Whether right or\nwrong, his view of things towered so high above my own blurred and\ncrooked vision that I felt myself crouch and grow small before him. The\nwatch-tower of his faith planted him high up among the stars of heaven,\nwhile I groped and struggled far away down in the darkness. Oh! if I\ncould only climb up there and stand with him, and see the world and all\nthings in it from that divine and serene height, instead of impiously\nendeavoring to build up my own and others\u2019 little Babel that was to\nreach the skies and enable us to behold God. But conversions are not\nwrought by a few sentences nor by the mere emotions of the heart; not by\nTruth itself, which is for ever speaking, for ever standing before and\nconfronting us, its mark upon its forehead, yet we pass it blindly by;\nfor has it not been said that \u201chaving eyes they see not, and having ears\nthey hear not\u201d?\n\n\u201cKenneth,\u201d I said, stretching out my hand, which he clasped in both of\nhis, \u201cthe subject which has been called up I feel to be far too solemn\nto be dismissed with the sneer and scoff that have grown into my nature.\nIndeed, I always so regarded it secretly; but perhaps the foolish manner\nin which I have hitherto treated it was owing somewhat to the foolish\npeople with whom I have had to deal from my boyhood. They give their\nreasons about this, that, and the other as parrots repeat their lesson,\nwith interjectory shrieks and occasional ruffling of the poll, all after\nthe same pattern. You seem to me to be in earnest; but, if you please, we\nwill say no more about it--at least now.\u201d\n\n\u201cAs you please,\u201d he replied. \u201cHere I am at the end of my cigar. So\ngood-night, my dear boy. Well, you have had my to-whit to your to-whoo.\u201d\n\nAnd so a strange day ended. I sat thinking some time over our\nconversation. Kenneth\u2019s observations opened quite a new train of thought.\nIt had never occurred to me before that life was a great battle-field,\nand that all men were, as it were, ranged under two standards, under the\nfolds of which they were compelled to fight. Everything had come to me\nin its place. A man might have his private opinions on men and things,\nas he collects a private museum for his own amusement; but in the main\none lived and died, acted and thought, passed through and out of life,\nin much the same manner as his neighbor, not inquiring and not being\ninquired into too closely. Life was made for us, and we lived it much\nin the same way as we learned our alphabet, we never knew well how, or\ntook our medicine, in the regulation doses. Sometimes we were a little\nrebellious, and suffered accordingly; that was all. Excess on any side\nwas a bore to everybody else. It was very easy, and on the whole not\nunpleasant. We nursed our special crotchets, we read our newspapers,\nwe watched our children at their gambols, we chatted carelessly away\nout on the bosom of the broad stream along which we were being borne so\nsurely and swiftly into the universal goal. Why should we scan the sky\nand search beneath the silent waters, trembling at storms to come and\ntreacherous whirlpools, hidden sand-banks, and cruel rocks on which many\na brave bark had gone down? Chart and compass were for others; a pleasant\nsail only for us. There was a Captain up aloft somewhere; it was his duty\nand not ours to see that all was right and taut--ours to glide along in\nslumbrous ease, between eternal banks of regions unexplored; to feast\nour eyes on fair scenes, and lap our senses in musical repose. That was\nthe true life. Sunken rocks, passing storms, mutinies among the crew,\nbursting of engines--what were such things to us? Had we not paid our\nfares and made our provision for the voyage, and was not the Captain\nbound to land us safely at our journey\u2019s end, if he valued his position\nand reputation?\n\nThe devil, the world, and the flesh! What nightmare summoned these\nup, and set them glaring horribly into the eyes of a peaceful British\nsubject? What had the devil to do with me or I with the devil? What\nwere the world and the flesh? Take my father, now; what had they to do\nwith him? Or Fairy? Why, her life was as pure as that sky that smiled\ndown upon her with all its starry eyes. Let me see; there were others,\nhowever, who afforded better subjects for investigation. Whenever\nyou want to find out anything disagreeable, call on your friends and\nneighbors. There was the Abbot Jones, now; let us weigh him in the\ntriple scale. How fared the devil, the world, and the flesh with the\nAbbot Jones? He was, as I said to Kenneth, a very genial man; he had\nlived a good life, married into an excellent family, paid his bills,\nhad a choice library, a good table, was an excellent judge of cattle,\nand a preacher whom everybody praised. Abbot Jones was faultless! There\nwas not a flaw to be found in him from the tip of his highly-polished\ntoe to the top of his highly-polished head. He had a goodly income,\nbut he used it cautiously; for Clara and Alice were now grown up, and\nwere scarcely girls to waste their lives in a nunnery, like my cousins,\nthe daughters of Archdeacon Herbert, who adored all that was sweetly\nmortifying and secluded, yet, by one of those odd contradictions in\nfemale and human nature generally, never missed a fashion or a ball. Yes,\nAbbot Jones was a good and exemplary man. To be sure, he did not walk\nbarefoot or sandal-shod, not alone among the highways, where men could\nsee and admire, but into the byways of life, down among the alleys of\nthe poor, where clustered disease, drunkenness, despair, death; where\nlife is but one long sorrow. But then for what purpose did he pay a\ncurate, unless to do just this kind of dirty, apostolic work, while the\nabbot devoted himself to the cares of his family, the publication of an\noccasional pamphlet, and that pleasant drawing-room religion that finds\nits perfection in good dinners, sage maxims, and cautious deportment? If\nthe curate neglected his duty, that was clearly the curate\u2019s fault, and\nnot the abbot\u2019s. If the abbot were clothed, not exactly in purple, but\nin the very best of broadcloth, and fasted only by the doctor\u2019s orders,\nprayed not too severely, fared sumptuously every day of his life, he paid\nfor every inch of cloth, every ounce of meat, every drop of that port\nfor which his table was famous; for he still clung to the clerical taste\nfor a wine that at one time assumed a semi-ecclesiastical character,\nand certain crumbs from his table went now and then to a stray Lazarus.\nYes, he was a faultless man, as the world went. He did not profess to\nbe consumed with the zeal for souls. His life did not aim at being an\napostolic one. He had simply adopted a profitable and not unpleasant\nprofession. If a S. Paul had come, straggling, footsore, and weary, into\nLeighstone, and begun preaching to the people and attacking shepherds\nwho guarded not their fold, but quietly napped and sipped their port,\nwhile the wolves of irreligion, of vice and misery in every form,\nentered in and rent the flock from corner to corner, the abbot would\nvery probably have had S. Paul arrested for a seditious vagrant and a\ndisturber of the public peace.\n\nTake my uncle, the archdeacon; what thought he of the world, the flesh,\nand the devil? As for the last-named enemy of the human race, he did\nnot believe in him. A personal devil was to him simply a bogy wherewith\nto frighten children. It was the outgrowth of medi\u00e6val superstition, a\nChristianized version of a pagan fable. The devil was a gay subject with\nArchdeacon Herbert, who was the wittiest and courtliest of churchmen. His\nmission was up among the gods of this world; his confessional ladies\u2019\nboudoirs, his penance an epigram, his absolution the acceptance of an\ninvitation to dinner. He breathed in a perfumed atmosphere; his educated\near loved the rustle of silks; he saw no heaven to equal a coach-and-four\nin Rotten Row during the season. It was in every way fitting that such a\nman should sooner or later be a bishop of the Church Established. He was\nan ornament to his class--a man who could represent it in society as well\nas in the pulpit, whose presence distilled dignity and perfume, and whose\nviews were what are called large and liberal--that is to say, no \u201cviews\u201d\nat all. What the three enemies had to do with my uncle I could not see.\nI could only see that he would scarcely have been chosen as one of The\nTwelve; but then who would be chosen as one of The Twelve in these days?\n\nI went to the window and looked out. The moon was going down behind S.\nWilfrid\u2019s, and Leighstone was buried in gloomy shadow. Down there below\nme in the darkness throbbed thousands of hearts resting a little in\npeaceful slumber till the morning came to wake them again to the toil\nand the struggle, the pleasure and the pain, the good and the evil, of\nanother day. The good and the evil. Was there no good and evil waiting\ndown there by the bedside of every one, to face them in the morning, and\nnot leave them until they returned to that bedside at night? Was there\na great angel somewhere up above in that solemn, silent, ever-watchful\nheaven, with an open scroll, writing down in awful letters the good and\nthe bad, the white and the black, in the life of each one of us? Were we\nworth this care, weak little mortals, human machines, that we were? What\nshould our good or our evil count against the great Spirit, whom we are\ntold lives up above there in the passionless calm of a fixed eternity?\nDid we shake our puny fists for ever in the face of that broad, bent\nheaven that wrapped us in and overwhelmed us in its folds, what effect\nwould it have? If we held them up in prayer, what profited it? Who of men\ncould storm heaven or search hell? And yet, as Kenneth said, a life that\ncould not end was an awful thing. That the existence we feel within us is\nnever to cease; that the power of discriminating between good and evil,\ndefine them, laugh at them or quibble about them as we may, can never\ndie out of us; that we are irresistibly impelled to one or the other;\nthat they are always knocking at the door of our hearts, for we feel them\nthere; that they cannot be blind influences, knowing not when to come or\nwhen to go, but the voices of keen intelligences acting over the great\nuniverse, wherever man lives and moves and has his being; that they are\nnot creations of our own, for they are independent of us; we may call\nevil good and good wicked, but in the end the good will show itself, and\nthe evil throw off its disguise in spite of us--what does all this say\nbut that there is an eternal conflict going on, and that, will he or will\nhe not, every man born into the world must take a share in it?\n\nThat being so, search thine own heart, friend. Leave thy uncle, leave\nthy neighbor, and come back to thyself. Let them answer for their share;\nanswer thou for thine. Which is thy standard? It cannot be both. What\npart hast thou borne in the conflict? What giants killed? What foes\novercome? Hast thou slain that doughty giant within thee--thine own self?\nIs there no evil in thee to be cast out? No stain upon the scutcheon of\nthy pure soul? No vanity, no pride, no love of self above all and before\nall, no worship of the world, no bowing to Mammon or other strange gods,\nnot to mention graver blots than all of these? Let thy neighbor pass till\nall the dross is purged out of thee. There is not a libertine in all the\nworld but would wish all the world better, provided he had not to become\nbetter with it. Thy good wishes for others are shared by all men alike,\nby the worst as by the best. Begin at home, friend, and root out and\nbuild up there. Trim thy own garden, cast out the weeds, water and tend\nit well. The very sight of it is heaven to the weary wayfarer who, having\nwandered far away from his own garden, sinks down at thy side, begrimed\nwith the dust of the road and the smoke of sin. You may tear him to\npieces, you may lacerate his soul, you may cast him, bound hand and foot,\ninto the outer darkness, yet never touch his heart. But he will stand\nafar off and admire when he sees thy garden blowing fair, and all the\nwinds of heaven at play there, all the dews of heaven glistening there,\nall the sunshine of heaven beaming there; then will he come and creep\nclose up to thee, desiring to take off the shoes from his feet, soiled\nwith his many wanderings in foul places. Then for the first time he feels\nthat he has wandered from the way, will see the stains upon him, and with\ntrembling fingers hasten to cast them off, and, standing barefoot and\nhumble before Him who made thee pure, falter out at length, \u201cLord, it is\ngood for us to be here.\u201d\n\nTO BE CONTINUED.\n\n\nCALDERON\u2019S AUTOS SACRAMENTALES.\n\nCONCLUDED.\n\nII.\n\n\nI. BALTASSAR\u2019S FEAST.[55]\n\nOf all Calderon\u2019s _autos_, this is the one which has been the most\ngenerally admired, both on account of its intense dramatic power and\npopular character.\n\nIt has been translated several times into German (see note at end of\nprevious article on the _autos_), and into English by Mr. MacCarthy.\n\nThe latter says in his preface: \u201cThis _auto_ must be classed with those\nwhose action relates directly to the Blessed Sacrament, because it puts\nbefore us, in the profanation of the vases of the Temple by Baltassar, a\ntype of the desecration of the Holy Sacrament, and symbolizes to us, in\nthe punishment that follows this sacrilege, the magnitude and sublimity\nof the Eucharistic Mystery. Although this immediate relation between the\naction of the _auto_ and the sacrament becomes only manifestly clear\nin the last scene, nevertheless all the preceding part, which is only\npreparing us for the final catastrophe, stands in immediate connection\nwith it, and, through it, with the action of the _auto_. The wonderful\nsimplicity of this relation, and the lively dramatic treatment of the\nsubject, allow us to place this _auto_, justly, in the same category\nwith those that, comparatively speaking, are easy to be understood, and\nwhich, like _The Great Theatre of the World_, have especial claims upon\npopularity, even if many of its details contain very deep allusions, the\nmeaning of which, at first sight, is not very intelligible.\u201d\n\nThe _auto_ opens in the garden of Baltassar\u2019s palace with a scene between\nDaniel and Thought, who, dressed in a coat of many colors, represents\nthe Fool.\n\nAfter a long description of his abstract self he states that he has this\nday been assigned to King Baltassar\u2019s mind, and ironically remarks that\nhe, Thought, is not the only fool, and apologizes for his rudeness in not\nlistening to Daniel:\n\n    \u201cIt were difficult to try\n    To keep up a conversation,\n    We being in our separate station,\n    Wisdom thou, and Folly I.\u201d\n\nDaniel answers that there is no reason why they should not converse, for\nthe sweetest harmony is that which proceeds from two different chords.\n\nThought hesitates no longer, and informs Daniel that he is thinking of\nthe wedding which Babylon celebrates this day with great rejoicings. The\ngroom is King Baltassar, son and heir of Nabuchodonosor; the happy bride\nthe fair Empress of the East, Idolatry herself.\n\nThat the king is already wedded to Vanity is no hindrance, as his law\nallows him a thousand wives.\n\nDaniel breaks forth in lamentations for God\u2019s people and the unhappy\nkingdom; while clownish Thought asks if Daniel himself is interested in\nthe ladies, since he makes such an outcry over the news, and insinuates\nthat envy and his captivity are the causes of his grief.\n\nWith a flourish of trumpets enter Baltassar and Vanity at one side,\nand Idolatry, fantastically dressed, at the other, with attendants,\nfollowers, etc.\n\nThe king courteously welcomes his new wife, who replies that it is right\nthat she should come to his kingdom, since here first after the Flood\nidolatry arose.\n\nThe king declares that his own idea, his sole ambition, has been to unite\nIdolatry and Vanity, and then suddenly becomes absorbed in thought while\nfondly regarding his wives; to their questions as to the cause of his\nsuspense he answers that, fired by their beauty, he wishes to relate the\nwondrous story of his conquests.\n\nWonderful indeed is the story which follows, extending, in the original,\nthrough three hundred and fifty uninterrupted lines.\n\nIn the introduction the king relates the strange fate of his father,\nNabuchodonosor, whose worthy successor he declares himself to be, and\ndescribes his vaulting ambition, which will not be satisfied until he is\nthe sole ruler over all the region of Senaar, which beheld the building\nof the Tower of Babel; this leads to an account of the Deluge, so\npoetical and characteristic that we give its finest portion here:[56]\n\n    \u201cFirst began a dew as soft\n    As those tears the golden sunrise\n    Kisseth from Aurora\u2019s lids;\n    Then a gentle rain, as dulcet\n    As those showers the green earth drinks\n    In the early days of summer;\n    From the clouds then water-lances,\n    Darting at the mountains, struck them;\n    In the clouds their sharp points shimmer\u2019d,\n    On the mountains rang their but-ends;\n    Then the rivulets were loosened,\n    Roused to madness, ran their currents,\n    Rose to rushing rivers, then\n    Swelled to seas of seas. O Summit\n    Of all wisdom! thou alone\n    Knowest how thy hand can punish!\n    \u2026 Then a mighty sea-storm rushed\n    Through the rents and rocky ruptures,\n    By whose mouths the great earth yawns,\n    When its breath resounds and rumbles\n    From internal caves. The air\n    \u2026 Roared confined, the palpitation\n    Of its fierce internal pulses\n    Making the great hills to shake,\n    And the mighty rocks to tremble.\n    The strong bridle of the sand,\n    Which the furious onset curbeth\n    Of the white horse of the sea\n    With its foam-face silver fronted,\n    Loosened every curbing rein,\n    So that the great steed, exulting,\n    Rushed upon the prostrate shore,\n    With loud neighing to o\u2019errun it.\u201d\n\nThe ark alone is saved, and Nimrod resolves to anticipate a second\nDeluge, and erect a more ambitious refuge. The building of the Tower of\nBabel and the Confusion of Tongues then follow, and the king closes his\nlong monologue with the determination to rebuild Nimrod\u2019s tower, urged to\nthe task by the opportune conjunction of Idolatry and Vanity.\n\nThese express their gratification at this lofty scheme, and offer to\nperpetuate the fame of his great deeds.\n\nThe king, exulting, exclaims: \u201cWho shall break this bond?\u201d\n\nDaniel, advancing, \u201cThe hand of God!\u201d and returns the same answer to the\nking\u2019s angry question, \u201cWhat can save thee from my power or defend thee?\u201d\n\nBaltassar is profoundly moved, but spares Daniel because Vanity loathes\nthe captive and Idolatry disdains his religion.\n\nIn the fourth scene the prophet addresses the Most High, and cries: \u201cWho\ncan endure these offences, these pretences of Vanity and displays of\nIdolatry? Who will end so great an evil?\u201d\n\n\u201cI will,\u201d answers Death, who enters, wearing a sword and dagger, and\ndressed symbolically in a cloak covered with figures of skeletons.\n\n      DANIEL. \u201cAwful shape, to whom I bow\n    Through the shadowy glooms that screen thee,\n    Never until now I\u2019ve seen thee:\n    Fearful phantom, who art thou?\u201d\n\nDeath\u2019s answer in the following monologue is most impressive and\nbeautiful. Our space, unfortunately, will let us quote but a part:\n\n    \u201cDaniel, thou Prophet of the God of Truth,\n    I am the end of all who life begin,\n    The drop of venom in the serpent\u2019s tooth,\n    The cruel child of envy and of sin.\n    Abel first showed the world\u2019s dark door uncouth,\n    But Cain threw wide the door, and let me in;\n    Since then I\u2019ve darkened o\u2019er life\u2019s checker\u2019d path,\n    The dread avenger of Jehovah\u2019s wrath.\n    \u2026 The proudest palace that supremely stands,\n    \u2019Gainst which the wildest winds in vain may beat;\n    The strongest wall, that like a rock withstands\n    The shock of shells, the furious fire-ball\u2019s heat--\n    All are but easy triumphs of my hands,\n    All are but humble spoils beneath my feet;\n    If against _me_ no palace-wall is proof,\n    Ah! what can save the lowly cottage-roof?\n    Beauty, nor power, nor genius, can survive,\n    Naught can resist my voice when I sweep by;\n    For whatsoever has been let to live,\n    It is my destined duty to see die.\n    With all the stern commands that thou mayst give,\n    I am, God\u2019s Judgment, ready to comply;\n    Yea, and so quickly shall my service run\n    That ere the word is said the deed is done!\u201d\n\nDeath then recounts some of his past achievements to prove his readiness\nto inflict punishment on the king.\n\nDaniel, however, expressly forbids him to kill Baltassar, and gives him\nleave only to awaken him to a sense of coming woe and the fact that he is\nmortal.\n\nThis Death does by appearing to the king and showing him a small book\nlost by him some time before (_i.e._, the remembrance of his mortality,\nwhich he had forgotten), in which is written his debt to Death.\n\nHe leaves the terror-stricken monarch with an admonition to remember his\nobligation.\n\nThought, hovering between Vanity and Idolatry, soon, however, effaces the\nimpression left by the terrible visitor.\n\nThe king and Thought, lulled by their combined flatteries, fall asleep,\nwhile Death enters and delivers the following monologue, which, as Mr.\nMacCarthy truly says, \u201cbelongs unquestionably to the deepest and most\nbeautiful poetry that has ever flown from the pen of Calderon\u201d:\n\n      DEATH. \u201cMan the rest of slumber tries,\n    Never the reflection making\n    That, O God! asleep and waking,\n    Every day he lives and dies;\n    That a living corse he lies,\n    After each day\u2019s daily strife,\n    Stricken by an unseen knife,\n    In brief lapse of life, not breath,\n    A repose which is not death;\n    But what is death teaches life:\n    Sugared poison \u2019tis, which sinks\n    On the heart, which it o\u2019ercometh,\n    Which it hindereth and benumbeth.\n    And can a man, then, live who poison drinks?\n    \u2019Tis forgetting, when the links\n    That gave life by mutual fretting\n    To the Senses, snap, or letting\n    The imprisoned Five go free,\n    They can hear not, touch, or see;\n    And can a man forget this strange forgetting?\n    It is frenzy, that which moves\n    Heart and eyes to taste and see\n    Joys and shapes that ne\u2019er can be:\n    And can a man be found who frenzy loves?\n    \u2019Tis a lethargy that proves\n    My best friend; in trust for me,\n    Death\u2019s dull, drowsy weight bears he,\n    And, by failing limb and eye,\n    Teaches man the way to die:\n    And can a man, then, seek this lethargy?\n    \u2019Tis a shadow, which is made\n    Without light\u2019s contrasted aid,\n    Moving in a spectral way,\n    Sad, phantasmal foe of day:\n    And can a man seek rest beneath such shade?\n    Finally, \u2019tis well portrayed\n    As Death\u2019s Image: o\u2019er and o\u2019er\n    Men have knelt its shrine before,\n    Men have bowed the suppliant knee,\n    All illusion though it be:\n    And can a man this Image, then, adore?\n    Since Baltassar here doth sleep,\n    Since he hath the poison drank,\n    Since he treads oblivion\u2019s blank,\n    Since no more his pulses leap,\n    Since the lethargy is deep,\n    Since, in horror and confusion,\n    To all other sights\u2019 exclusion,\n    He has seen the Image--seen\n    What this shade, this poison, mean,\n    What this frenzy, this illusion:\n    Since Baltassar sleepeth so,\n    Let him sleep, and never waken:\n    Be his body and soul o\u2019ertaken\n    By the eternal slumber.\u201d\n\n(He draws his sword, and is about to kill him.)\n\nDaniel rushes in and saves the sleeper, who is dreaming a mysterious\nvision, which is visibly represented to the spectators.\n\nThe king on awakening is captivated, as usual, by Idolatry, who proposes\nto him a magnificent feast, in which shall be used the sacred vessels\ncarried away from Jerusalem.\n\nThe feast is prepared; the table is brought in, on which are displayed\nthe sacred vessels; the attendants begin serving the banquet, while\nThought plays the court-fool.\n\nIn the midst of the revelry Death enters, disguised as one of the\nservants, and, when the king calls for wine, presents him with one of the\ngolden goblets from the table, with a mysterious aside referring to the\nLord\u2019s Supper, where the cup contains both death and life, as it is drunk\nworthily or unworthily.\n\nThe king rises and gives the toast: \u201cFor ever, Moloch, god of the\nAssyrians, live!\u201d\n\nA great clap of thunder is heard, darkness settles on the feast, and a\nfiery hand writes upon the wall the fatal \u201cMANE, THECEL, PHARES.\u201d\n\nIdolatry, Vanity, and Thought in turn fail to interpret the mysterious\nwords, and the first named suggests that Daniel should be summoned.[57]\n\nThe prophet comes and explains the hidden meaning of the words, declaring\nthat God\u2019s wrath has been aroused by the misuse of the sacred vessels,\nwhich, until the law of grace reigns on earth, foreshow the Blessed\nSacrament.\n\nBaltassar and his wives tremble at the solemn words. Thought, an\nexpression of the reproaches of his master\u2019s conscience, turns against\nthe king, who laments the desertion of his friends in the hour of need.\n\nDeath, during this scene, has been approaching nearer and nearer, and now\ndraws his sword and stabs the unhappy monarch, who cries:\n\n    \u201cThis is death, then!\n    Was the venom not sufficient\n    That I drank of?\u201d\n\n      DEATH. \u201cNo; that venom\n    Was the death of the soul; the body\u2019s\n    This swift death-stroke representeth.\u201d\n\nThe king, struggling with Death, is forced to confess:\n\n    \u201cHe who dares profane God\u2019s cup,\n    Him he striketh down forever;\n    He who sinfully receives\n    Desecrates God\u2019s holiest vessel!\u201d\n\nThese are his last words. Idolatry awakens from her dream, and longs to\nsee the light of the law of grace now while the written law reigns.\n\nDeath declares that it is foreshadowed in Gedeon\u2019s fleece, in the manna,\nin the honey-comb, in the lion\u2019s mouth, and in the shew-bread.\n\n    DANIEL. \u201cIf these emblems\n    Show it not, then be it shown\n    In the full foreshadowing presence\n    Of the feast here now transformed\n    Into Bread and Wine--stupendous\n    Miracle of God; his greatest\n    Sacrament in type presented.\u201d\n\nThe scene opens to the sound of solemn music; a table is seen arranged\nas an altar, with a monstrance and chalice in the middle, and two wax\ncandles on each side.\n\nThe _auto_ closes with Idolatry\u2019s declaration that she is transformed\ninto _Latria_, and the usual personal address to the audience.\n\n\nII. THE PAINTER OF HIS OWN DISHONOR.\n\nWe have already remarked that the _auto El Pintor de su Deshonra_ is a\n_replica_ of a secular play bearing the same title.\n\nIt will not be out of place to give a short analysis of the latter,\npremising that it is one of the greatest of Calderon\u2019s tragedies.\n\nIn the first act the Governor of Gaeta welcomes to his residence his\nfriend Don Juan Roca, whose young wife, Seraphine, soon becomes intimate\nwith the governor\u2019s daughter, Portia, to whom she reveals the secret that\nshe has been ardently loved by Portia\u2019s brother, Don Alvaro, whose love\nshe has as ardently returned.\n\nNews, however, was received of his shipwreck and death, and she finally\nyielded to her father\u2019s urgent requests, and gave her hand to Don Juan.\n\nThe unhappy lady faints while reciting her griefs, and Portia hastens for\naid. At this moment a stranger enters, perceives the unconscious lady,\nand bends over her with an expression of the warmest interest. Seraphine\nopens her eyes, and with the cry \u201cAlvaro!\u201d faints again.\n\nHer old lover, saved from the waves, has returned to find her another\u2019s\nwife.\n\nFrom this moment begins a struggle between love and duty, depicted with\nall the tenderness and power of which the poet was capable.\n\nSeraphine attempts with all her strength to master her love for Alvaro,\nand tells him, with forced coolness, how much she is attached to her\nhusband by duty and inclination.\n\nDuring this interview a cannon is heard--the signal announcing the\napproaching departure of Don Juan\u2019s ship. Seraphine withdraws to follow\nhim to their home in Spain, and leaves Alvaro in a state of utter\nhopelessness.\n\nThe second act reveals to us Don Juan (an enthusiastic lover of art) in\nhis home in Barcelona, painting his wife\u2019s portrait.\n\nThe remembrance of the past seems banished from Seraphine\u2019s heart, and\neverything indicates a state of peace and happiness.\n\nDon Juan withdraws a moment, when a sailor enters the room.\n\nIt is Don Alvaro, who, unable to forget his love, has followed Seraphine\nto Barcelona. He overwhelms her with his affection; but she shows him\nso firmly and eloquently that his pleading is in vain that he in turn\nresolves to conquer his passion and leave her for ever.\n\nHe still lingers near, but makes no attempt to approach her again.\n\nOne day, during the Carnival, Don Juan\u2019s villa takes fire. Seraphine is\nborne insensible from the house by her husband, who confides her to Don\nAlvaro, whom he does not, of course, recognize, and returns to help the\nothers who are in danger.\n\nDon Alvaro, meanwhile, is left with Seraphine in his arms. His love\nrevives stronger than ever in the terrible temptation, and he bears the\nstill insensible Seraphine to his ship, and makes sail with the greatest\nhaste.\n\nDon Juan does not return until the ship is under way, discovers too late\nthat he has been deceived, and throws himself into the sea in order to\novertake the fugitives.\n\nIn the last act we find Don Juan at Gaeta, disguised as an artist, in\norder to obtain more easily access into private houses, and discover who\nhas stolen his wife.\n\nHe is introduced to Prince Urbino, who commissions him to paint the\nportrait of a beautiful woman whom he has seen at a neighboring\nforester\u2019s house, which he visits in order to meet Portia secretly.\n\nThe same place has been chosen by Don Alvaro to conceal Seraphine, who is\nthe beautiful lady who has attracted the prince\u2019s attention.\n\nDon Juan repairs to the appointed spot, and erects his easel near a\nwindow, through the blinds of which he can see, unnoticed, the fair one.\n\nThe artist discovers, with feelings which can be imagined, his wife\nasleep in the garden. She murmurs words which prove her innocence. But\nthis cannot save her; she must be sacrificed to remove the stain on her\nhusband\u2019s honor.\n\nDon Juan expresses his feelings in a most powerful soliloquy, when\nAlvaro enters and embraces the sleeping Seraphine. At that instant two\nshots are heard, and the innocent and guilty fall bleeding to the ground.\n\nThe _auto_ founded on the above play is, in the opinion of no less a\ncritic than Wilhelm Val Schmidt, the first of its class, and withal much\nless technical than is usual with these plays.\n\nThe _dramatis person\u00e6_ include the Artist, the World, Love, Lucifer, Sin,\nGrace, Knowledge, Nature (_i.e._, human nature at first in a state of\ninnocence), Innocence, and the Will (_i.e._, free-will).\n\nThe first car represents a dragon, which opens and discloses Lucifer,\nwhose first speech proves the trite remark about the devil quoting\nScripture; for he immediately proceeds to cite Jeremias and David, who\nalluded to him as the dragon.\n\nHe then summons Sin, and repeats to her his partly-known history, which\ncontains some singular ideas.\n\nHe was the favorite of the Father in his former home, where he saw,\nbefore the original existed, the portrait of so rare a beauty that,\ninflamed with love, and to prevent the Prince from marrying her, he\nrebelled, and, placing himself at the head of the other discontented\nspirits, was defeated and doomed to perpetual exile and darkness.\n\nSo far Sin is acquainted with the story; but from this point all is new\nto her.\n\nThe greatest of Lucifer\u2019s sufferings arises from his envy of the\nPrince, who is all that is wise and lovely: a learned theologian,\nlegislator, philosopher, physician, logician, astrologist, mathematician,\narchitect--\u201cwitness the palace of the world\u201d--geometrician, rhetorician,\nmusician, and poet.\n\nBut none of these qualities so enrages and astonishes Lucifer as the\nPrince\u2019s talent for painting. He has already been engaged six days on\na landscape. At the beginning the ground of the canvas was so bare and\nrough that he only drew on it the outline in shadowy figures. The first\nday he gave it light; the second day he introduced heaven and earth,\ndividing the waters and the firmament; the third day, seeing the earth so\narid and bare, he painted flowers in it and fruits, and the fourth day\nthe sun and moon. He filled, the fifth day, the air and waters with birds\nand fishes; and this sixth day he has covered the landscape with various\nanimals.\n\nNothing of all this astonishes Lucifer so much as the Prince\u2019s intention\nto embody in a palpable form the ideal which was the cause of Lucifer\u2019s\nfall.\n\nThe divine Artist has himself chosen the colors and selected clay and\noccult minerals, which Lucifer fears a breath may animate: \u201cSince if a\nbreath can dissipate dust, I suspect, I lament, I fear, that dust may\nlive by the inspiration of a breath.\u201d\n\nAnimated by this fear, Lucifer has summoned Sin to aid him in destroying\nthis image, so that the Prince may be The Painter of his own Dishonor.\n\nA palace appears, and near the entrance the painting on an easel. Lucifer\nand Sin retire; for the Artist, accompanied by the Virtues, comes to put\na careful hand to his work.\n\nSin knows not where to conceal herself. Lucifer bids her hide in a cave\nin the bank of a stream.\n\nSin answers that she is afraid of the water, because she foresees that it\nis to be (in the water of baptism) the antidote to sin.\n\nThe flowers, grain, and vine all terrify her, before which, as symbols of\nsome unknown sacrament, she reverently bows.\n\nShe at last conceals herself in a tree, which Lucifer calls from that\nmoment _the tree of death_.\n\nThe Artist enters, Innocence bearing the palette, Knowledge the\nmall-stick, and Grace the brushes.\n\nHe declares his intention to show his power in the portrait his love\nwishes to paint, and asks the attendant Virtues to add their gifts to\nHuman Nature.\n\nHe proceeds to work, while the Virtues call upon the sun, moon, etc., to\npraise the Lord.\n\nThe Artist finishes his work by breathing the breath of life into it.\nThe picture falls, and in its place appears Human Nature, who expresses\nmost vividly her wonder at her creation, and joins in the general anthem,\n\u201cBless the Lord.\u201d Lucifer confesses that he and Sin are _de trop_, and\nthey depart to seek some disguise in which to return and carry out their\nundertaking. While the chorus repeats the praises of the Lord, Human\nNature na\u00efvely asks, \u201cHow can I bless him, if I do not know him? Who will\ntell me who He is or who I am?\u201d\n\nThe Artist advances and answers her question. Nature demands who _he_\nis. \u201cI am who am, and have been, and am to be; and since thou hast been\ncreated for Love\u2019s spouse, let thy love be grateful.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat command dost thou lay on me, my Love? I will never break it.\u201d\n\n\u201cAll that thou seest here is thine; that tree alone is mine.\u201d\n\nNature asks who can ever divert her love, and is answered, \u201cThy\nFree-will.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat new spirit and force was created in my new being by that word,\nwhich told me that there was something in me besides myself? Voice, tell\nme, who is Free-will.\u201d\n\nFree-will appears as a rustic, and answers, \u201cI.\u201d\n\nNature then proceeds to name the various objects about her, accompanying\neach name with some appropriate remark, and is led quite naturally to\nindulge in some boasting at her dominion over such a beautiful and varied\nkingdom.\n\nThis is the moment Lucifer and Sin select to appear in the disguise of\nrustics. The latter remains concealed in the tree; the former introduces\nhimself to Human Nature as a gardener, and says very gallantly that he\nlost his last place on her account.\n\nNature hastens to turn a conversation becoming somewhat personal by\nasking what he is cultivating.\n\n\u201cThat beautiful tree.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is extremely lovely.\u201d\n\n\u201cThere is something more singular about it than being merely lovely.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat?\u201d\n\n\u201cEarth, who brought it forth, can tell thee.\u201d\n\n\u201cI am earth, since I was formed of earth; so I will tell the Earth to\nkeep me no longer in suspense.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen speak to her, and thou shalt see.\u201d\n\n\u201cMother Earth, what is this hidden mystery?\u201d\n\nSIN. \u201cEat, and thou shalt be as God.\u201d\n\nThen follow the Fall and a powerful scene depicting Nature\u2019s confusion\nand grief, as she is dragged off by Satan as his slave, while Sin claims\nFree-will as her prey.\n\nThe Artist enters and finds Knowledge, Innocence, and Grace in tears; the\nlatter informs him of the Fall.\n\nHe thus reproaches his creation for her ingratitude: \u201cWhat more could\nI do for thee, my best design, than form thee with my own hands? I gave\nthee my image, a soul that cost thee nothing, and yet thou desertest me\nfor my greatest enemy.\u201d\n\nHe then pronounces the curse upon Mankind and the Serpent, and declares\nhe will blot out the world, the scene of their sin.\n\nThe clouds break and the sea bursts its limits; the Earth trembles and\nstruggles with the waves, and in agony calls on the Lord for mercy.\n\nIn the midst of this confusion of the elements Human Nature is heard\ncrying for help.\n\nLUCIFER. \u201cWhy callest thou for aid, if I, the only one whom it behooves\nto give it, delight in seeing thee annihilated?\u201d\n\nSin also makes the same declaration. The World alone attempts to save its\nqueen.\n\nAt last the Artist casts her a plank, saying, \u201cMortal, again see whom\nthou hast deserted, and for whom; since he whom thou hast offended saves\nthee, and he whom thou lovest abandons thee! One day thou wilt know of\nwhat this plank, fragment of a miraculous ark, is symbol.\u201d\n\nThe World, Nature, and Free-will are saved; the latter enters, bound with\nSin, who declares that Sin and Human Nature are so nearly the same that\none cannot go anywhere without the other.\n\nWe have said anachronisms are frequent; the poet here even makes his\ncharacters jest about it.\n\nHUMAN NATURE. \u201cSince here there are no real persons, and Allegory can\ntraverse centuries in hours, it seems to me that the salute the angels\nare singing to this celestial aurora declares in resounding words\u2026\u201d\n\nMUSIC. \u201cIn heaven and on earth peace to man and glory to God.\u201d\n\nFREE-WILL. \u201cThe story has made a fine jump from the Creation to the\nFlood, and I think there is going to be another, if I understand that\nsong aright--from the Deluge to the Nativity!\u201d\n\nThe chant continues, to the infinite discomfort of Lucifer and Sin, who\nat last determine in their rage to disfigure Human Nature so that her\nCreator himself could not recognize her.\n\nLucifer holds her hands, while Sin brands upon her brow the sign of\nslavery.\n\nLucifer then commands the World to remain on guard, and let no one enter\nwithout careful scrutiny, for fear lest the Artist may attempt to avenge\nthe wrong done him.\n\nThe Artist enters, accompanied by Divine Love.\n\nThey are soon discovered by the World, who exclaims: \u201cWho goes there?\u201d\n\n\u201cFriends.\u201d\n\n\u201cYour name?\u201d\n\n\u201cA Man.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd the World, the faithful sentinel of Sin, does not know how thou hast\nentered here?\u201d\n\n\u201cI did not come that Sin should know me.\u201d\n\n\u201c_I_ do not know thee.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo John will say.\u201d\n\n\u201cBy what door didst thou enter?\u201d\n\n\u201cBy that of Divine Love, who accompanies me.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat is thy office?\u201d\n\n\u201cI was once an Artist in a certain allegory, and must still be the same.\u201d\n\n\u201cArtist?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, since I came to retouch a figure of mine which an error has\nblotted.\u201d\n\n\u201cSince thou art a painter thou canst do me a favor.\u2026\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat is it?\u201d\n\nThe World then informs him that there is a certain Spouse who has been\ncarried away from her husband, and is now in the power of a Tyrant, who\nis endeavoring to force her to accompany him to another world, the seat\nof his rule.\n\nThe Artist weeps, because he remembers his own Spouse, whose fate is\nsimilar to that of this one.\n\nThe world begs the Artist to make a portrait of this fair disconsolate\none, that he (the World) may wear it on his breast.\n\nThe Artist consents, and conceals himself in order to work unobserved.\n\nThe World goes in search of Human Nature, while the Artist looks about\nfor some hiding-place. Love points to a cross near by, and says that as\nthe first offence was committed in a tree, this one will witness his\nvengeance.\n\nThe Artist calls for his colors, and Love presents him with a box, in\nopening which his hands are stained a bloody red.\n\n\u201cTake this!\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is all carmine.\u201d\n\n\u201cI have no other color.\u201d\n\n\u201cDo not let it afflict thee, Love, that blood must retouch what Sin has\nblotted. The brushes!\u201d\n\nLove hands him three nails--\u201cHere they are!\u201d\n\n\u201cHow sharp and cruel! What can be the canvas for such brushes!\u201d\n\nLove gives him a canvas in the shape of a heart--\u201ca heart.\u201d\n\n\u201cOf bronze?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow I grieve to see it so hardened, when I intended to form in it a\nsecond figure! Give me the mall-stick.\u201d\n\nLove presents him with a small lance. \u201cHere it is.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe point is steel! Less cruel instruments Innocence, Grace, and\nKnowledge once gave me!\u201d\n\n\u201cBe not astonished if these are more cruel than those; for then thou\ndidst paint as God, and now as Man!\u201d\n\nWhile the Artist is working Nature, Free-will, and Sin enter, and later\nLucifer, who, wearied of Nature\u2019s continual lamentation, comes to drag\nher to his realm.\n\nARTIST. \u201cWhy should I delay my vengeance, seeing them together? Give me,\nLove, the weapons which I brought for this occasion!\u201d\n\n\u201cThy voice is the lightning, this weapon only its symbol; but I deliver\nit to thee with sorrow!\u201d\n\n\u201cWhen my offended honor is so deeply concerned?\u201d\n\n\u201cI am Love, and _she_ is weeping; but I will direct my gaze to thy\nwrongs, and without fail shall hit the mark.\u201d\n\n\u201cMy hand cannot err, traitrous adulterers, who conspired against me; the\nhonor of an insulted man obliges me to this! I am the Painter of his own\nDishonor; die both at one stroke!\u201d (Fires. Lucifer and Sin both fall.)\n\nLOVE. \u201cThou hast hit Sin, and not Human Nature!\u201d\n\nThe Artist answers that it cannot be said that his shot has failed, since\nby this tree Nature lives, and Lucifer and Sin are killed.\n\nThe Artist points to a fountain of seven streams, and the Virtues, and\ninvites Human Nature to bathe in the blood from his side, and be restored\nto her original condition.\n\nThe _auto_ closes with an expression of gratitude from Nature, and the\nusual allusion to the Sacrament in whose honor the present festival is\ncelebrated.\n\n\nI AM THE DOOR.\n\n\u201cTo him that knocketh it shall be opened.\u201d\n\n    Truly, I see Thou art!--with nails hinged fast:\n      Yet faster barred and locked with bolts of love.\n    I, treasure seeking, through Thee would go past.\n      Than lock or hinges must I stronger prove?\n\n    \u201cA knock will do\u2019t.\u201d A knock! Where durst I, Lord?\n    \u201cKnock at my heart; there all my wealth is stored.\u201d\n\n\nTHE TRAGEDY OF THE TEMPLE.\n\nCONCLUDED.\n\nWhile the so-called King of France was thus subjected to the fierce and\nbrutal caprice of one man, there were thousands of loyal hearts beating\nin pity for him, and longing to liberate and crown him, even at the price\nof their blood. The faithful army of La Vend\u00e9e was fighting for him,\nand with a courage and determination that caused some anxiety among the\ngood patriots as to the possible issue of the campaign. The movement\nwas held up to ridicule; the young prince was mockingly styled King of\nLa Vend\u00e9e. Nevertheless, the republicans were alarmed, and the hopes of\nthe royalists were reviving. The Simons were discussing these matters\none evening over the newspaper, when Simon, looking at the forlorn,\nbroken-spirited little monarch, whose cause was thus creating strife and\nbloodshed far beyond his dungeon\u2019s walls, exclaimed sneeringly: \u201cI say,\nlittle wolf-cub, they talk of setting up the throne again, and putting\nthee in thy father\u2019s place; what wouldst thou do to me if they made thee\nking?\u201d The boy raised his dim blue eyes from the ground, where they were\nnow habitually fixed, and replied: \u201cI would forgive thee!\u201d Mme. Simon, in\nrelating this incident long after, said that even her husband seemed for\na moment awed by the sublime simplicity of the answer.\n\nThey were both of them sick and tired of their office by this time; she\nof the cruel work it involved, he of the close confinement to which\nit condemned them. He tried to get released from his post, and after\nsome fruitless efforts succeeded. On the 19th of January, 1794, they\nleft the Temple. The patriot shoemaker died six months afterwards on\nthe guillotine. He had no successor, properly speaking, in the Tower;\nin history he has neither successor nor predecessor; he stands alone,\nunrivalled and unapproachable, as a type of the tiger-man, a creature\ndevoid of one humane, redeeming characteristic. Other men whose names\nhave become bywords of cruelty or ferocious wickedness have at least had\nthe excuse of some all-absorbing passion which, stifling reason and every\nbetter instinct of their nature, carried them on as by some overmastering\nimpulse; but Simon could not plead even this guilty excuse. His was no\nmad delirium of passion, but a cold-blooded, deadly, undying, unrelenting\ncruelty in the execution of a murder that he had no motive in pursuing\nexcept as a means of adding a few coins more to his salary. He entered on\nhis task of lingering assassination with deliberate barbarity; he was not\nstimulated by the sense of personal wrong, by a thirst for revenge, by\nany motive that could furnish the faintest thread of extenuation. He rose\nevery morning and went to his victim as other men rise and go to their\nstudies or their work. He devoted all his energies, all his instincts, to\ncoolly inflicting torture on a beautiful, engaging, and innocent little\nchild. No, happily for the world, he has no prototype in its history;\nnor, for the honor of humanity, has he ever found an apologist. He is\nperhaps the only monster of ancient or modern times who has never found\na sceptic or a casuist to lift a voice in his behalf. Nero and Trajan,\nQueen Elizabeth and Louis XI., have had their apologists; nay, even Judas\nhas found amongst the fatalists of some German school an infatuated\nfellow-mortal to attempt a defence of the indefensible; but no man has\nyet been known to utter a word of excuse for the brutal jailer of Louis\nXVII.\n\nAnd yet his departure, though it rid the helpless captive of an active,\never-present barbarity, can hardly be said, except negatively, to have\nbettered his position. The Convention decreed that it was essential\nto the nation\u2019s life and prosperity that the little Capet should be\nsecurely guarded; and as if the insane precautions hitherto used were\nnot sufficient to secure a feeble, attenuated child, he was removed to\na stronger and more completely isolated dungeon, where henceforth his\nwaning life might die out quicker and more unheard of. There was only\none window to the room, and this was darkened by a thick wooden blind,\nreinforced by iron bars outside. The door was removed, and replaced by a\nhalf-door with iron bars above; these bars, when unlocked, opened like a\ntrap, and through this food was passed to the prisoner. The only light at\nnight was from a lamp fastened to the wall opposite the iron grating.\n\nMme. Royale thus describes the state of her brother in this new abode, to\nwhich he was transferred--whether by accident or design we know not--on\nthe anniversary of his father\u2019s death, January 21: \u201cA sickly child of\neight years, he was locked and bolted in a great room, with no other\nresource than a broken bell, which he never rang, so greatly did he dread\nthe people whom its sound would have brought to him; he preferred wanting\nany and every thing to calling for his persecutors. His bed had not been\nstirred for six months, and he had not strength to make it himself; it\nwas alive with bugs and vermin still more disgusting. His linen and his\nperson were covered with them. For more than a year he had no change of\nshirt or stockings; every kind of filth was allowed to accumulate about\nhim and in his room; and during all that period nothing had been removed.\nHis window, which was locked as well as grated, was never opened, and\nthe infectious smell of this horrid room was so dreadful that no one\ncould bear it for a moment. He might indeed have washed himself--for he\nhad a pitcher of water--and have kept himself somewhat more clean than\nhe did; but overwhelmed by the ill-treatment he had received, he had not\nresolution to do so, and his illness began to deprive him of even the\nnecessary strength. He never asked for anything, so great was his dread\nof Simon and his other keepers. He passed his days without any kind\nof occupation. They did not even allow him light in the evening. This\nsituation affected his mind as well as his body, and it is not surprising\nthat he should have fallen into a frightful atrophy. The length of time\nwhich he resisted this treatment proves how good his constitution must\nhave originally been.\u201d\n\nWhile the boy-king was slowly telling away his remnant of miserable life\nin the dark solitude of the Tower, thousands were being daily immolated\non the public places, where the guillotine, insatiable and indefatigable,\ndespatched its cartloads of victims. On the 10th of May Mme. Elizabeth,\nthe most revered and saintly of all the long roll of martyrs inscribed on\nthat bloody page, was sacrificed with many other noble and interesting\nwomen, amongst them the venerable sister of M. de Malesherbes, the\ncourageous advocate of the king. She was seventy-six years of age. By a\nrefinement of barbarity the municipals who conducted the \u201cbatch\u201d obliged\nMme. Elizabeth to wait to see her twenty-five companions executed before\nlaying her own head on the block. Each of them, as they left the tumbrel,\nasked leave to embrace her; she kissed them with a smiling face, and said\na few words of encouragement to each. \u201cHer strength did not fail her to\nthe last,\u201d says Mme. Royale, \u201cand she died with all the resignation of\nthe purest piety.\u201d\n\nMme. Royale was henceforth left in perfect solitude like her brother. She\nthus describes her own and the Dauphin\u2019s life after the departure of her\nbeloved aunt, of whose death she was happily kept in ignorance for a long\ntime: \u201cThe guards were often drunk; but they generally left my brother\nand me quiet in our respective apartments until the 9th Thermidor. My\nbrother still pined in solitude and filth. His keepers never went near\nhim but to give him his meals; they had no compassion on this unhappy\nchild. There was one of the guards whose gentle manners encouraged me to\nrecommend my brother to his attention; this man ventured to complain of\nthe severity with which the boy was treated, but he was dismissed next\nday. I, at least, could keep myself clean. I had soap and water, and\ncarefully swept out my room every day. I had no light.\u2026 They would not\ngive me any more books, but I had some religious works and some travels,\nwhich I read over and over.\u201d\n\nThe fall of Robespierre, which rescued so many doomed heads from the\nguillotine, and opened the doors of their prison, had no such beneficent\neffect on the fate of the two royal children. It gave rise, however,\nto some alleviation of their sufferings. Immediately on the death of\nhis cowardly and \u201cincorruptible\u201d colleague, Barras visited the Tower,\nand dismissed the whole set of commissaries of the Commune, who were\nforthwith despatched to have their heads cut off next day, while a single\nguardian was appointed in their place.\n\nLaurent was the man\u2019s name. He had good manners, some education, and,\nbetter than all, a human heart. The lynxes of the Temple eyed him\naskance; he was not of their kin, this creole with the heart of a man,\nand they mistrusted him. It was not until two o\u2019clock in the morning that\nthey conducted him to the presence of his charge. He tells us that when\nhe entered the ante-room of the dungeon he recoiled before the horrible\nstench that came from the inner room through the grated door-way. Good\nheavens! was this the outcome of the reign of brotherhood which talked\nso mightily of universal love and liberty? It was in truth the most\nforcible illustration of the gospel of Sans-culottism that the world had\nyet beheld. \u201cCapet! Capet!\u201d cried the municipals in a loud voice. But\nno answer came. More calling, with threats and oaths, at last brought\nout a feeble, wailing sound like the cry of some dying animal. But\nnothing more could threats, or even an attempt at coaxing, elicit. Capet\nwould not move; would not come forth and show himself to the new tutor.\nLaurent took a candle, and held it inside the bars of the noxious cage;\nhe beheld, crouching on a bed in the furthest corner of the dungeon, the\nbody which was confided to his guardianship. Sickened with the sight, he\nturned away. There was no appliance at hand for forcing open the door or\nthe grating. Laurent at once sent in an account of what he had seen, and\ndemanded that this remnant of child-life, that he was appointed to watch\nover, should be examined by proper authority. The next day, July 30, some\nmembers of the S\u00fbret\u00e9 G\u00e9n\u00e9rale came to the Tower. M. de Beauchesne tells\nus what they saw: \u201cThey called to him through the grating; no answer.\nThey then ordered the door to be opened. It seems there were no means of\ndoing it. A workman was called, who forced away the bars of the trap so\nas to get in his head, and, having thus got sight of the child, asked\nhim why he did not answer. Still no reply. In a few minutes the whole\ndoor was broken down, and the visitors entered. Then appeared a spectacle\nmore horrible than can be conceived--a spectacle which never again can\nbe seen in the annals of a nation calling itself civilized, and which\neven the murderers of Louis XVI. could not witness without mingled pity\nand fright. In a dark room, exhaling a smell of death and corruption,\non a crazy, dirty bed, a child of nine years old was lying prostrate,\nmotionless, and bent up, his face livid and furrowed by want and\nsuffering, and his limbs half covered with a filthy cloth and trowsers\nin rags. His features, once so delicate, and his countenance, once so\nlively, denoted now the gloomiest apathy--almost insensibility; and his\nblue eyes, looking larger from the meagreness of the rest of his face,\nhad lost all spirit, and taken, in their dull immovability, a tinge of\ngray and green. His head and neck were eaten up (_rong\u00e9s_) with purulent\nsores; his legs, arms, and neck, thin and angular, were unnaturally\nlengthened at the expense of his chest and body. His hands and feet were\nnot human. A thick paste of dirt stuck like pitch over his temples, and\nhis once beautiful curls were full of vermin, which also covered his\nwhole body, and which, as well as bugs, swarmed in every fold of the\nrotten bedding, over which black spiders were running.\u2026 At the noise of\nforcing the door the child gave a nervous shudder, but barely moved,\nnot noticing the strangers. A hundred questions were addressed him; he\nanswered none of them. He cast a vague, wandering, unmeaning look at his\nvisitors, and at this moment one would have taken him for an idiot. The\nfood they had given him was still untouched; one of the commissioners\nasked him why he had not eaten it. Still no answer. At last the oldest\nof the visitors, whose gray hairs and paternal tone seemed to make an\nimpression on him, repeated the question, and he answered in a calm but\nresolute tone: \u2018Because I want to die!\u2019 These were the only words which\nthis cruel and memorable inquisition extracted from him.\u201d\n\nBarras, the stuttering, pleasure-loving noble of Provence, \u201ca terror\nto all phantasms, being himself of the genus Reality\u201d--Barras, who had\nstood, like a bewildered, shipwrecked man while the storm-wind was\nwhirling blood-waves round about him, now enters and beholds the royal\nvictim whom it has taken nearly eighteen months of Simon the Cordwainer\u2019s\ntreatment \u201cto get rid of\u201d--perishing, but still alive in his den of\nsqualor, darkness, and fright. His knees were so swollen that his ragged\ntrowsers had become painfully tight. Barras ordered them to be cut\nopen, and found the joints \u201cprodigiously swollen and livid.\u201d One of the\nmunicipals, who had formerly been a surgeon, was permitted to dress the\nsores on the head and neck; after much hesitation a woman was employed\nto wash and comb the child, and at Laurent\u2019s earnest remonstrance a\nlittle air and light were admitted into the damp room; the vermin were\nexpelled as far as could be, an iron bed and clean bedding replaced\nthe former horrors in which the boy had lain so many months, and the\ngrated door was done away with. These were small mercies, after all,\nand to which the vilest criminal had a right. All the other rigors of\nhis prison were maintained. He was still left to partial darkness and\ncomplete solitude. Laurent, after a while, wearied the municipals into\ngiving him leave to take him occasionally for an airing on the leads. The\nindulgence was perhaps welcome, but the child showed no signs of pleasure\nin it; he never spoke or took the smallest notice of anything he saw.\nOnce only, when on his way to the leads, he passed by the wicket which\nconducted to the rooms that his mother had occupied; he recognized the\nspot at once, gazed wistfully at the door, and, clinging to Laurent\u2019s\narm, made a sign for them to go that way. The municipal who was on guard\nat the moment saw what the poor little fellow meant, and told him he\nhad mistaken the door; it was, he said, at the other side. But the child\nhad guessed aright. The kind-hearted Laurent began soon to feel his own\nconfinement, almost as solitary as the prince\u2019s, more than he could\nbear. He petitioned to have some one to assist him in his duties, and,\nowing to some secret influence of the royalists, a man named Gomin, who\nwas at heart devoted to their cause, was appointed. The only benefit\nwhich the young prisoner derived from the change of his jailers was that\ncivility and cleanliness had replaced insolence and dirt. For the rest,\nhe was still locked up alone, never seeing any one except at meal times,\nwhen the two guardians and a municipal were present, the former being\noften powerless to control the insulting remarks and gratuitous cruelty\nof the latter. So the wretched days dragged on, silent, monotonous,\nmiserable. Meanwhile, Paris was breathing freely after the long night\nof Terror. The Fraternity of the Guillotine was well-nigh over, and the\n_Jeunesse dor\u00e9e_ had flung away the red caps and the _Carmagnole_, and\nwas disporting itself with a light heart in gaudy attire of the antique\ncut. Fair _citoyennes_ discarded the unbecoming and therefore, even to\nthe most patriotic among them, odious costume of the republic, and decked\nthemselves out in flowing Greek draperies, binding their hair with gold\nand silver fillets like Clytemnestra and Antigone, and replacing the\n_sabots_ of the people with picturesque sandals, clothing their naked\nfeet only in ribbons, despite the biting cold of this memorable winter.\nThe death-beacons one by one had been quenched, not by nimble hands,\nlike the lights of the ballroom or the gay flame of the street, but in\nblood dashed freely over their lurid glare. Terrified men were emerging\nfrom their holes and hiding-places; nobles were returning from exile;\nthere was a sudden flaming up of merriment, an effervescence of luxury,\nan intoxicating thirst for pleasure, a hunger to eat of the good things\nof life, of which the reign of _sans-culottism_ had starved them. There\nwere gay gatherings in all ranks; in the highest the _bals des victimes_,\nwhere the guests wore a badge of crape on their arm, as a sign that they\nhad lost a near relative on the guillotine--none others being admitted.\nSo, while the waltzers spun round to the clang of brass music and in\nthe blaze of wax-lights, and all the world was embracing and exchanging\ncongratulations, like men escaped from impending death, the tragedy in\nthe Tower drew to its end unheard and unheeded. The King of La Vend\u00e9e\nate his dinner of \u201c_bouilli_ and dry vegetables, generally beans\u201d; the\nsame at eight o\u2019clock for supper, when he was locked up for the night,\nand left unmolested till nine next morning. One day there came a rough,\nblustering man to the prison, who flung open the doors with much noise,\nand talked like thunder. His name was Delboy. He chanced to arrive at\nthe dinner-time. \u201cWhy this wretched food?\u201d cried the noisy visitor.\n\u201cIf _they_ were still at the Tuileries, I would help to starve them\nout; but here they are our prisoners, and it is unworthy of the nation\nto starve them. Why these blinds? Under the reign of equality the sun\nshould shine for all. Why is he separated from his sister? Under the\nreign of fraternity why should they not see each other?\u201d Then addressing\nthe child in a gentler tone, he said, \u201cShould you not like, my boy, to\nplay with your sister? If you forget your origin, I don\u2019t see why the\nnation should remember it.\u201d He reminded the guardians that it was not the\nlittle Capet\u2019s fault that he was his father\u2019s son--it was his misfortune;\nhe was now only \u201can unfortunate child,\u201d and the \u201cnation should be his\nmother.\u201d The only advantage the unfortunate child derived from this\nstrange visit was that the lamp of his dungeon was lighted henceforth\nat dark. Gomin asked this favor on the spot, and it was granted. The\ncommissioners were continually changed--a circumstance which proved a\nfrequent cause of suffering and annoyance to the captive, who was the\nvictim of their respective tempers, often fierce and cruel as those of\nhis jailers of the earlier days. These accumulated miseries were finally\nwearing out his little remnant of strength. The malady which for some\ntime past gave serious alarm to his two kind-hearted friends, Laurent\nand Gomin, increased with sudden rapidity, and in the month of February,\n1795, assumed a threatening character. He could hardly move from extreme\nweakness, and had lost all desire to do so. When he went for his airing,\nLaurent or Gomin had to carry him in their arms. He let them do so\nreluctantly; but he was now too apathetic to resist anything. The surgeon\nof the prison was called in, and certified that \u201cthe little Capet had\ntumors on all his joints, especially his knees; that it was impossible\nto extract a word from him; that he never would rise from his chair or\nhis bed, and refused to take any kind of exercise.\u201d This report brought\na deputation of members of the S\u00fbret\u00e9 G\u00e9n\u00e9rale, who were so horrified at\nthe state of things they found that they drew up the following appeal\nto their colleagues: \u201cFor _the honor of the nation_, who knew nothing\nof these horrors; for that of the Convention, which was, in truth, also\nignorant of them; and even for that of the guilty municipality of Paris\nitself, who knew all and was the cause of all these cruelties, we should\nmake no public report, but only state the result in a secret meeting of\nthe committee.\u201d This confession is revolting enough; but it might find\nsome shadow of excuse, if, after hiding the cruelties for the sake of\nshielding the wretches who had sanctioned them, these deputies had taken\nsteps to repair the wrong-doing, and to alleviate the position of the\nvictim; but, as far as the evidence goes, nothing of the sort was done.\n\nThe tomb-like solitude to which the young prince had so long been\nsubjected, added to the chronic terror in which he had lived from the\ntime of his coming under Simon\u2019s tutelage, had induced him to maintain\nan obstinate, unbroken silence. He could not be persuaded to answer a\nquestion, to utter a word. Yet it was evident enough that this did not\nproceed from stupidity or insensibility, but that his faculties still\nretained much of their native vivacity and sensitiveness. Gomin was so\ntimid by nature that, in spite of his affection for his little charge,\nhe seldom ventured on any outward expression of sympathy, afraid he\nshould be detected and made, like so many others, to pay the penalty of\nit. One day, however, that he chanced to be left quite alone with him,\nhe felt safe to let his heart speak, and showed great tenderness to the\nchild; the boy fixed a long, wistful look on his face, and then rose and\nadvanced timidly to the door, his eyes still fastened on Gomin with an\nexpression of entreaty too significant to be misunderstood. \u201cNo, no,\u201d\nsaid Gomin, shaking his head reluctantly; \u201cyou know _that_ cannot be.\u201d\n\u201c_Oh! I must see her_,\u201d cried the poor child. \u201c_Oh! pray, pray let me\nsee her just once before I die!_\u201d Gomin made no answer but by his look\nof pity and regret, and, going up to the child, led him gently from\nthe door. The young prince threw himself on the bed with a gesture of\ndespair, and remained there, senseless and motionless, so long that\nhis guardian at one moment, as he confessed afterwards, feared he was\ndead. Poor child! The longing to see his mother had of late taken the\nshape of a hope, and he had been busy in his mind as to how it could\npossibly be realized; this had been an opportunity, he thought, and the\ndisappointment overwhelmed him. Gomin said that, for his part, the sight\nof the boy\u2019s grief nearly broke his heart. The incident, he believed,\nhastened the crisis, that was now steadily advancing. A few days after\nthis occurrence a new commissary came to inspect the prisoner, and, after\neyeing him curiously, as if he had been a strange variety of animal, he\nsaid out loud to Laurent and Gomin, who were standing by, \u201cThat child\nhas not six weeks to live!\u201d Fearing the shock these words might cause\nthe subject of them, the guardians ventured to say something to modify\ntheir meaning; the commissary turned on them, and with a savage oath\nrepeated, \u201cI tell you, citizens, in six weeks he will be an idiot, if he\nis not dead!\u201d When he left the room, the young prince gazed after him\nwith a mournful smile. The sentence, brutally delivered as it was, had\nno fears for him; presently a few teardrops stole down his cheeks, and\nhe murmured, as if speaking to himself, \u201cAnd yet I never did any harm to\nanybody.\u201d\n\nA new affliction now awaited him. The kind and faithful Laurent left\nhim. His post in the Tower, repulsive from the first, had become utterly\ninsupportable to him of late, and on the death of his mother he applied\nto be liberated from it. When he came to bid farewell to the unhappy\nchild, whose lot he had endeavored to soften as far as his power\nadmitted, the prince squeezed his hand affectionately, _looked_ his\nregret at him, but uttered no word.\n\nLaurent was replaced by a man named Lasne, formerly a soldier in the\nold Gardes Fran\u00e7aises, now a house-painter. For the first few weeks\nafter his arrival the young prince was mute to him, as he had been to\nhis predecessor, until the latter\u2019s persevering kindness had disarmed\ntimidity and mistrust. A trifle at last broke the ice. Lasne was in the\nhabit of talking to his little charge, making kindly remarks, or telling\nstories that he thought might amuse him, never waiting for any sign of\nresponse. One day he happened to tell him of something that occurred\nwhen he, Lasne, had been in the old guard, and, being on guard at the\nTuileries, had seen the Dauphin reviewing a regiment of children which\nhad been formed for his amusement, and of which he was colonel. The boy\u2019s\ncountenance beamed with a sudden ray of surprise and pleasure, and he\nexclaimed in a whisper, as if afraid of being overheard, \u201cAnd didst thou\nsee me with my sword?\u201d Lasne answered that he had, and from this forth\nthey were fast friends. Bolder, though scarcely more sympathizing, than\neither Laurent or Gomin, Lasne determined to apply at headquarters for\nsome decisive change in the prince\u2019s treatment. He induced his colleague\nto join him in signing a report to the effect that \u201cthe little Capet was\nindisposed.\u201d This was inscribed on the Temple register; but no notice was\ntaken, and in a few days they both again protested in stronger terms:\n\u201cThe little Capet is seriously indisposed.\u201d No notice being taken of\nthis, the brave men wrote a third time: \u201cThe life of little Capet is in\ndanger!\u201d This finally brought a response. M. Desault, one of the first\nphysicians in Paris, was sent to visit the young prince. He had come too\nlate, however; the malady which had carried off the elder Dauphin had\ntaken too deep a hold on the child\u2019s life to be now arrested or overcome.\nNothing could induce the prince to answer a question or speak a word to\nthe doctor or in his presence; and it was only after great difficulty,\nand at the earnest entreaties of his two guardians, that he consented\nto swallow the medicines prescribed. By degrees, however, as it always\nhappened, the persistent kindness and sympathizing looks and words of M.\nDesault conquered his suspicions or timidity; and though he never plucked\nup courage to speak to him, the municipals being always present, he would\ntake hold of the doctor\u2019s coat, and thus express a desire for him to\nprolong his visit. This lasted three weeks.\n\nAmong the commissaries there was a M. Bellenger, an artist, who was\ndeeply touched by the pitiable condition of the child, and one day,\nthinking to give him a moment\u2019s diversion, he brought a portfolio of\ndrawings, and showed them to him while waiting in his room for M. Desault\nto come. The novel amusement seemed to interest him very little. He\nlooked on listlessly, as M. Bellenger turned over the sketches for his\ninspection; then, as the doctor did not appear, the artist said, \u201cSir,\nthere is another sketch that I should have much pleasure in carrying\naway with me, if it were not disagreeable to you.\u201d The deferential\nmanner, coupled with the title \u201cmonsieur,\u201d so long a foreign sound to the\ncaptive\u2019s ear, startled and moved him. \u201cWhat sketch?\u201d he said, for the\nfirst time breaking silence. \u201cYour features, if it were not disagreeable\nto you, it would give me great pleasure.\u201d \u201cWould it?\u201d said the child and\nhe smilingly acquiesced. M. Bellenger completed his sketch, and still\nno doctor appeared; he took leave of the prince, saying he would come\nat the same hour the following day. He did so; but M. Desault was again\nunpunctual. The time for his visit elapsed, and he neither came nor sent\na message. The commissary suggested that some one should be despatched\nto inquire the reason of his absence; but even so simple a step as this\nLasne and Gomin dared not venture on without direct orders. They were\ndiscussing what had best be done, when a new commissary arrived and\nsatisfied all inquiries: \u201cThere is no need to send after M. Desault;\nhe died yesterday.\u201d This sudden death was the signal for the wildest\nconjectures. It was rumored that the physician had been bribed to poison\nthe prince, and then in remorse had poisoned himself. In times like\nthose such a report was eagerly accepted, fed as it was by the mystery\nwhich surrounded the inmate of the Tower, and the vague stories afloat\nconcerning the character of the ill-omened dungeon and the people who now\nruled there.\n\nBut there was no foundation for the story in actual facts. M. Desault\nwas a man of unimpeachable integrity, whose entire life gave the lie to\nso odious a suspicion. \u201cThe only poison which shortened my brother\u2019s\nlife,\u201d says Mme. Royale, \u201cwas filth, made more fatal by cruelty.\u201d The\ndeath of the kind and clever physician, from whatever cause it arose, was\na serious loss to the forsaken sufferer in the Temple. He remained for\nseveral days without medical care of any sort, until, on the 5th of June,\nM. Pelletan, surgeon of one of the large hospitals, was named to attend\nhim. It would seem as if the race of tigers was dying out, except in the\nranks of the patriot municipals; for all who by accident approached the\npoor child in these last days were filled at once with melting pity,\nand found courage to give utterance to this feeling aloud. M. Pelletan\nremonstrated with the utmost indignation on the darkness and closeness\nof the room where his patient was lodged, and on the amount of bolting\nand barring that went on every time the door was opened or shut, the\nviolent crash being injuriously agitating to the child. The guardians\nwere willing enough to do away with the whole thing, but the municipals\nobserved that there was no authority for removing the bars or otherwise\naltering the arrangements complained of. \u201cIf you can\u2019t open the window\nand remove these irons, you cannot at least object to remove him to\nanother room,\u201d said the doctor, speaking in a loud and vehement tone, as\nhe surveyed the horrible precincts. The prince started, and, beckoning\nto this bold, unknown friend, forgot his self-imposed dumbness, and\nwhispered, drawing M. Pelletan down to him: \u201cHush! If you speak so loud,\n_they_ will hear you; and I don\u2019t want them to know I am so ill; they\nwould be frightened.\u201d He was alluding to the queen and Mme. Elizabeth,\nwhom he believed still living in the story above. Every one present\nwas moved by the tender thoughtfulness the words betrayed, and the\ncommissary, carried away by sympathy for the unconscious little orphan,\nexclaimed: \u201cI take it upon myself to authorize the removal, in compliance\nwith Citizen Pelletan\u2019s instruction.\u201d Gomin, nothing loath, immediately\nlifted the patient in his arms, and carried him off to a bright room in\nthe little tower, which had been formerly the drawing-room of the keeper\nof the archives, and was now hurriedly prepared for the accommodation of\nthis new inmate. His eyes had been so long accustomed to the gloom that\nthey were painfully dazzled by the sudden change into the full sunshine.\nHe hid his face on Gomin\u2019s shoulder for a while, but by degrees he became\nable to bear the light, and drew long breaths, opening out his little\nhands as if to embrace the blessed sunshine, and then turned a look of\nineffable happiness and thanks on Gomin, who still held him in his arms\nat the open window. When eight o\u2019clock came, he was once more locked up\nalone.\n\nNext day M. Pelletan came early to see him; he found him lying on his\nbed, and basking placidly in the sunny freshness of the June air that\nwas streaming in upon him. \u201cDo you like your new room?\u201d inquired the\ndoctor. The child drew a long breath. \u201cOh! yes,\u201d he said, with a smile\nthat went to every heart. But even at this happy crisis the sting of the\nold serpent woke up, as if to remind the victim that it was not dead.\nAt dinner-time a new commissary, a brute of the name of H\u00e9bert, and full\nworthy of that abominable name, burst into the room, and began to talk in\nthe coarse, boisterous tones once so familiar to the captive. \u201cHow now!\nWho gave permission for this? Since when have _carabins_ governed the\nrepublic? This must be altered! You must have the orders of the Commune\nfor moving the wolf-cub.\u201d The child dropped a cherry that he was putting\nto his lips, fell back on his pillow, and neither spoke nor moved till\nevening, when he was locked up for the night, and left to brood alone\nover the terrible prospect which H\u00e9bert\u2019s threats had conjured up.\n\nM. Pelletan found him so much worse next day that he wrote to the S\u00fbret\u00e9\nG\u00e9n\u00e9rale for another medical opinion; and M. Dumangier was ordered to\nattend. Before they arrived the prince had a fainting fit, which lasted\nso long that it terrified his guardians. He had, however, quite recovered\nfrom it when the physicians came. They held a consultation; but it was a\nmere form. Death was written on every lineament of the wasted body. All\nthat science could do was to alleviate the last days of the fast-flitting\nlife. The two medical men expressed surprise and anger at the solitude\nto which the dying child was still subjected at night, and insisted on a\nnurse being immediately provided. It was not worth the \u201cnation\u2019s\u201d while\nto refuse anything now. The order for procuring the nurse was at once\ngiven; but that night the old rule prevailed, and the patient was again\nlocked up alone. He felt it acutely; the merciful change that had been\neffected in so many ways had revived his hopes--the one hope to which\nhis young heart had been clinging in silence, fondly and perseveringly.\n\nWhen Gomin said good-night to him, he murmured, while the big tears ran\ndown his face, \u201cStill alone, and my mother in the other tower!\u201d He was\nnot to be kept apart from her much longer. When Lasne came next morning,\nhe thought him rather better. The doctors, however, were of a different\nopinion; they found him sinking rapidly, and despatched a bulletin to the\nCommune to this effect.\n\nAt 11 in the forenoon Gomin came to relieve Lasne by the bedside of the\ncaptive. They remained a long time silent; there was something solemn\nin the stillness which Gomin did not like to break, and the child\nnever was the first to speak. At last Gomin, bending tenderly towards\nhim, expressed his sorrow at seeing him so weak and exhausted. \u201cOh! be\ncomforted,\u201d replied the prince in a whisper; \u201cI shall not suffer long\nnow.\u201d Gomin could not control his emotion, but dropt on his knees by the\nbedside, and wept silently; the child took his hand and pressed it to\nhis lips, while Gomin prayed. This was the only ministry the son of S.\nLouis was to have on his deathbed--the tears of a turnkey, the prayers\nof a poor, ignorant son of toil; but angels were there to supplement\nthe unconsecrated priesthood of charity, weeping in gentle pity for the\nsufferings that were soon to cease. Bright spirits were hovering round\nthe prisoner\u2019s couch, tuning their harps for his ears alone.\n\nGomin raising his head from its bowed attitude, beheld the prince so\nstill and motionless that he was alarmed lest another fainting fit had\ncome on. \u201cAre you in pain?\u201d he asked timidly. \u201cOh! yes, still in pain,\nbut less; the music is so beautiful!\u201d Gomin thought he must be dreaming.\nThere was no music anywhere; not a sound was audible in the room. \u201cWhere\ndo you hear the music?\u201d he asked. \u201cUp there,\u201d with a glance at the\nceiling. \u201cSince when?\u201d \u201cSince you went on your knees. Don\u2019t you hear it?\nListen!\u201d And he lifted his hand, and his large eyes opened wide, as if\nhe were in an ecstasy. Gomin remained silent, in a kind of awe. Suddenly\nthe child started up with a convulsive cry of joy, and exclaimed, \u201cI hear\nmy mother\u2019s voice amongst them!\u201d He was looking towards the window, his\nlips parted, his whole face alight with a wild joy and curiosity. Gomin\ncalled to him, twice, three times, asking him to say what he saw. He did\nnot hear him; he made no answer, but fell back slowly on his pillow, and\nremained motionless. He did not speak again until Lasne came to relieve\nGomin. Then, after a long interval of silence, he made a sign as if he\nwanted something. Lasne asked him what it was.\n\n\u201cDo you think my sister could hear the music?\u201d he said. \u201cHow she would\nlike it!\u201d He turned his head with a start towards the window again, his\neyes opening with the same expression of joyous surprise, and uttered\na half-inarticulate exclamation; then looking at Lasne, he whispered:\n\u201cListen! I have something to tell you!\u201d Lasne took his hand, and bent\ndown to hear. But no words came--would never more come from the child\u2019s\nstill parted lips. He was dead.\n\nSo ended the tragedy of the Temple. There is nothing more to tell. Why\nshould we follow the ghastly story of the stolen heart, deposited in the\n\u201cvase with seventeen stars,\u201d then surreptitiously abstracted by the\nphysician\u2019s pupil, until all faith in the authenticity of the alleged\nrelic evaporates?\n\nNeither is it profitable to discuss the controversy which arose over\nthe resting-place of the martyred child; for even in his grave he was\npursued by malignant disputations. Enough for us to hear and to believe\nthat the son of the kings of France was accompanied to the grave by a few\nhumane municipals and by his faithful friend Lasne; and that his dust\nstill reposes in an obscure spot of the Cemetery of S. Margaret, in the\nFaubourg St. Antoine, undisturbed and undistinguished under its grassy\nmound beneath the shadow of the church close by.\n\n\nSUBSTANTIAL GENERATIONS.\n\nII.\n\nIt is customary with most of the peripatetic writers to assume that the\nAristotelic hypothesis of substantial generations, as understood by\nS. Thomas and by his school, cannot be rejected without upsetting the\nwhole scholastic philosophy. Nothing is more false. Suarez, than whom no\nmodern writer has labored more successfully in defending and developing\nthe scholastic philosophy, rejects the fundamental principle of the\nAristotelic theory, and maintains that no generation of new compound\nsubstances is possible, unless the matter which is destined to receive a\nnew form possess an entity of its own, and be intrinsically constituted\nof act and potency, contrary to the universal opinion of the peripatetic\nschool. \u201cThe first matter,\u201d says he, \u201chas of itself, and not through its\nform, _its actual entity of essence_, though it has it not without an\nintrinsic leaning towards the form.\u201d[58] And again: \u201cThe first matter has\nalso of itself and by itself _its actual entity of existence_ distinct\nfrom the existence of the form, though it has it not independently of\nthe form.\u201d[59] That these two propositions clash with the Aristotelic\nand Thomistic doctrine we need not prove, as we have already shown that\nneither S. Thomas nor Aristotle admitted in their first matter anything\nbut the mere potency of being; and although Aristotle sometimes calls the\nfirst matter \u201ca substance\u201d and \u201ca subject,\u201d he expressly warns us that\nsuch a substance is in potency, and such a subject is destitute of all\nintrinsic act.[60] Hence it is plain that the first matter of Suarez is\nnot the first matter of the peripatetics; whence it follows that the form\nwhich is received in such a matter is not a strictly substantial form,\nsince it cannot give the first being to a matter having a _first_ initial\nbeing of its own. Hence the Suarezian theory, though full of peripatetic\nspirit, and formulated in the common language of the peripatetic school,\nis radically opposed to the rigid peripatetic doctrine, and destroys its\nfoundation. \u201cIf the first matter,\u201d says S. Thomas, \u201chad any form of its\nown, it would be something in act; and consequently such a matter would\nnot, at the supervening of any other form, acquire its first being, but\nit would only become such or such a being; and thus there would be no\ntrue substantial generation, but mere alteration. Hence all those who\nassumed that the first subject of generation is some kind of body, as air\nor water, taught that generation is nothing but alteration.\u201d[61] This\nremark of the holy doctor may be well applied to the Suarezian theory;\nfor in such a theory the first matter is \u201csomething in act\u201d and has \u201ca\nform of its own.\u201d And, therefore, whoever adopts the Suarezian theory\nmust give up all idea of truly substantial generations. Yet no one who\nhas a grain of judgment will pretend that Suarez, by framing his new\ntheory, upset the scholastic philosophy.\n\nThe truth is that, as there are two definitions of the substantial form\n(_qu\u00e6 dat primum esse materi\u00e6: qu\u00e6 dat primum esse rei_), so also there\nare two manners of understanding the so-called \u201csubstantial\u201d generation;\nand, whilst Aristotle and his followers _assumed_ without any good\nproof[62] that the specific form of a generated compound gives the\nfirst being to the matter of the compound, and is, therefore, a strictly\nsubstantial form, the modern school _demonstrates_ from the principles\nof the scholastic philosophy, no less than from positive science, that\nthe specific form of a physical compound does not give the first being\nto the matter of the compound, but only to the compound nature itself;\nand, therefore, is to be called an _essential_ rather than a truly and\nstrictly substantial form.[63]\n\nThe primitive material substance, which is constituted of matter and\nsubstantial form, cannot but be physically simple--that is, free from\nall composition of parts--though it is metaphysically compounded, or (as\nwe would prefer to say) _constituted_ of act and potency. This being the\ncase, it evidently follows that all substance physically compounded must\ninvolve in its essential constitution something else besides the matter\nand the substantial form; for it must contain in itself both that which\ngives the first being to the physical components, and that which gives\nthe first being to the resulting physical compound.\n\nHence in all substance which is physically compounded of material parts\nthere are always two kinds of formal constituents. The first kind belongs\nto the components, the second to the compound. The first consists of\nthe substantial forms by which the components are constituted in their\nsubstantial being; which forms must actually remain in the compound;\nfor the substantial being of the components is the material cause of\nthe physical compound, and is the sole reason why the physical compound\nreceives the name of substance. The second is the principle by which\nthe first components, or elements, are formed into a compound specific\nnature. In other terms, the specific compound is \u201ca substance,\u201d because\nit is made up of substances, or primitive elements, constituted of matter\nand _substantial_ form; whilst the same specific compound is \u201ca compound\u201d\nand is \u201cof such a specific nature,\u201d owing to the composition, and to\nsuch a composition, of the primitive elements. This composition is the\n_essential_ form of the material compound.\n\nWe may here remark that the substantial forms of the component elements,\ntaken together, constitute what may be called the _remote_ formal\nprinciple of the compound essence (_principium formale quod, seu\nremotum_), whilst the specific composition constitutes the _proximate_\nformal principle of the same compound essence (_principium formale quo,\nseu proximum_). For, as each primitive element is immediately constituted\nby its substantial form, so is the physically compound essence\nimmediately constituted by its specific composition.\n\nIt is hardly necessary to add that the matter which is the subject of the\nspecific composition is not the first matter of Aristotle, but a number\nof primitive substances, and that these substances are endowed with\nreal activity no less than with real passivity, and therefore contain\nin themselves such powers as are calculated to bind together the parts\nof the compound system, in this or in that manner, according to the\ngeometric disposition and the respective distances of the same. For,\nas the power of matter is limited to _local_ action, it is the _local_\ndisposition and co-ordination of the primitive elements that determines\nthe mode of exertion of the elementary powers, inasmuch as it determines\nthe special conditions under which the Newtonian law has to be carried\ninto execution. On such a determination the specific composition and the\nspecific properties of the compound nature proximately depend.\n\nThe composition of matter with matter is confessedly an accidental\nentity, and arises from accidental action. It would, however, be a\nmanifest error to pretend that such a composition is an _accidental\nform_ of the compound nature. For nothing is accidental to a subject but\nwhat supervenes to it; whereas the composition does not supervene to\nthe compound, but enters into its very constitution. On the other hand,\nthe composition does not deserve the name of _substantial form_ in the\nstrict sense of the word, since it does not give the first being to the\nmatter it compounds. We might, indeed, call it a substantial form in a\nwider sense; for in the same manner as a compound of many substances is\ncalled \u201ca substance,\u201d so can the form of the substantial compound be\ncalled \u201csubstantial.\u201d But to avoid the danger of equivocation, we shall\nnot use this epithet; and we prefer to say that the specific composition\nis the _natural_ or the _essential_ form of the material compound, so\nfar at least as there is question of compounds _purely_ material. This\nessential or natural form may be properly defined as _the act by which a\nnumber of physical parts or terms are formed into one compound essence_,\nor, more concisely, _the act which gives the first being to the specific\ncompound_; which latter definition is admitted by the schoolmen, though,\nas interpreted by them, it leads to no satisfactory results, as we shall\nsee presently.\n\nThe first physical compound which possesses a permanent specific\nconstitution is called \u201ca molecule.\u201d Those physicists who assume matter\nto be intrinsically extended and continuous, by the name of molecule\nunderstand a little mass filling the space occupied by its volume,\nhard, indivisible, and unchangeable, to which they also give the name\nof \u201catom.\u201d But this opinion, which is a relic of the ancient physical\ntheories, is fast losing ground among the men of science, owing to the\nfact that molecules are subject to internal movements, and therefore\ncomposed of discrete parts. Such discrete parts must be simple and\nunextended elements, as we have demonstrated. Hence a molecule is nothing\nbut _a number of simple elements_ (some attractive and some repulsive)\n_permanently connected by mutual action in one dynamical system_. We\nsay _permanently connected_; because no system of elements which lacks\nstability can constitute permanent substances, such as we meet everywhere\nin nature. Yet the stability of the molecular system is not an absolute,\nbut only a relative, unchangeableness; for, although the bond which\nunites the parts of the molecular system must (at least in the case of\nprimitive molecules) remain always the same _in kind_, it can (even in\nthe case of primitive molecules) become different _in degree_ within\nthe limits of its own kind. And thus any molecule can be altered by\nheat, by cold, by pressure, etc., without its specific constitution\nbeing impaired. A molecule of hydrogen is specifically the same at two\ndifferent temperatures, because the change of temperature merely modifies\nthe bond of the constituent elements, without destroying it or making\nit specifically different; and the same is true of all other natural\nsubstances.\n\nThe _material_ constituent of a molecular system is, as we have said,\na number of primitive elements. These elements may be more or less\nnumerous, and possess greater or less power, either attractive or\nrepulsive; on condition, however, that attraction shall prevail in the\nsystem; for without the prevalence of attraction no permanent composition\nis possible.\n\nThe _formal_ constituent of a molecular system, or that which causes\nthe said primitive elements to be a molecule, is the determination by\nwhich the elements are bound with one another in a definite manner, and\nsubjected to a definite law of motion with respect to one another. Such a\ndetermination is in each of the component elements the resultant of the\nactions of all the others.\n\nThe matter of the molecular system is _disposed_ to receive such a\ndetermination, or natural form, by the relative disposition of the\nelements involved in the system. Such a disposition is local; for the\nresultant of the actions by which the elements are bound with one another\ndepends on their relative distances as a condition.\n\nThe _efficient cause_ of the molecular system are the elements\nthemselves; for it is by the exertion of their respective powers that\nthey unite in one permanent system when placed under suitable mechanical\nconditions. The original conditions under which the molecules of the\nprimitive compound substances were formed must be traced to the sole will\nof the Creator, who from the beginning disposed all things in accordance\nwith the ends to be obtained through them in the course of all centuries.\n\nMolecules may differ from one another, both as to their matter and as to\ntheir form. They differ in matter when they consist of a different number\nof primitive elements, or of elements possessing different degrees of\nactive power or of a different proportion of attractive and repulsive\nelements. They differ as to their form, when their constitution subjects\nthem to different mechanical laws; for as the law of movement and of\nmutual action which prevails within a molecule is a formal result of its\nmolecular constitution, we can always ascertain the difference of the\nconstitution by the difference of the law.\n\nIt is well known that the law according to which a system of material\npoints acts and moves can be expressed or represented by a certain\nnumber of mathematical formulas. The equations by which the mutual\ndynamical relations of the elements in a molecular system should be\nrepresented are of three classes. Some should represent the _mutual\nactions_ to which such elements are subjected at any given moment of\ntime; and these equations would contain differentials of the second\norder. Other equations should represent the _velocities_ with which such\nelements move at any instant of time; and these equations would contain\ndifferentials of the first order. Other equations, in fine, should\ndetermine the _place_ occupied by each of such elements at any given\nmoment, and consequently the figure of the molecular system; and these\nlast equations would be free from differential terms. The equations\nexhibiting the mutual actions must be obtained from the consideration of\npositive data, like all other equations expressing the conditions of a\ngiven problem. The equations exhibiting the velocities of the vibrating\nelements can be obtained by the integration of the preceding ones. The\nequations determining the relative position of the elements at any moment\nof time will arise from the integration of those which express the\nvelocities of the vibrating points. Had we sufficient data concerning\nthe internal actions of a molecule, and sufficient mathematical skill to\ncarry out all the operations required, we would be able to determine with\nmathematical accuracy the whole constitution of such a molecule, and all\nthe properties flowing from such a constitution. This, unfortunately, we\ncannot do as yet with regard to the molecule of any natural substance in\nparticular; and, therefore, we must content ourselves with the general\nprinciple that those molecular systems are of the same kind whose\nconstitution can be exhibited _by mathematical formulas of the same\nform_, and those molecules are of a different kind whose constitution\nis represented _by mathematical formulas of a different form_. This\nprinciple is self-evident; for the formulas by which the mechanical\nrelations of the elements are determined cannot be of the same form,\nunless the conditions which they express are of the same nature; whereas\nit is no less evident that two molecular systems cannot be of the same\nkind when their mechanical constitution implies conditions of a different\nnature.\n\nTwo molecules of the same kind may differ _accidentally_--that is, as\nto their mode of being--without any essential change in their specific\nconstitution. Thus, two molecules of hydrogen may be under different\npressure, or at a different temperature, without any specific change. In\nthis case, the mechanical relations between the elements of the molecule\nundergo an accidental change, and the equations by which such relations\nare expressed are also accidentally modified, inasmuch as some of the\nquantities involved in them acquire a different value; but the form\nof the equations, which is the exponent of the specific nature of the\nsubstance, remains unchanged.\n\nFrom these remarks four conclusions can be drawn. The first is that\nmolecules consisting of a different number of constituent elements always\ndiffer in kind. For it is impossible for such molecules to be represented\nby equations of the same form.\n\nThe second is that a molecule is _one_ owing to the oneness of the\ncommon tie between its constituent elements, and to their common and\nstable dependence on one mechanical law. Hence a molecule is not _one\nsubstance_, but _one compound nature_ involving a number of substances\nconspiring to form a permanent principle of actions and passions of a\ncertain kind. In other terms, a molecule is not _unum substantiale_, but\n_unum essentiale_ or _unum naturale_.\n\nThe third is that the specific form of a molecule admits of different\ndegrees within the limits of its species. This conclusion was quite\nunknown to the followers of Aristotle; and S. Thomas reprehends Averro\u00ebs\nfor having said that the forms of the elements (fire, water, air,\nand earth) could pass through different degrees of perfection, whilst\nAristotle teaches that they are _in indivisibili_, and that every change\nin the form changes the specific essence.[64] Yet it is evident that\nas there can be circles, ellipses, and other curves having a different\ndegree of curvature, while preserving the same specific form, so also can\nmolecules admit of a different degree of closeness in their constitution\nwithout trespassing on the limits of their species. So long as the\nchanges made in a molecule do not interfere with the conditions on which\nthe form of its equations depends, so long the specific constitution\nof the molecule remains unimpaired. Mathematical formulas are only\nartificial abridgments of metaphysical expressions; and their accidental\nchanges express but the accidental changes of the thing which they\nrepresent. On the other hand, it is well known that the equations by\nwhich the specific constitution of a compound system is determined can\npreserve the same form, while some of the quantities they contain receive\nan increase or a decrease connected with a change of merely accidental\nconditions.\n\nThe fourth conclusion is that a number of primitive molecules of\ndifferent kinds may combine together in such a manner as to impair more\nor less their own individuality by fixing themselves in a new molecular\nsystem of greater complexity. Likewise, a molecular system of greater\ncomplexity is susceptible of resolution into less complex systems. These\ncombinations and resolutions are the proper object of chemistry, which is\n_the science of the laws, principles, and conditions of the specific\nchanges of natural substances_, and to which metaphysicians must humbly\nrefer when treating of substantial generation, if they wish to reason on\nthe solid ground of facts.\n\nWe have thus briefly stated what we hold to be the true scientific and\nphilosophic view of the constitution of natural substances; and as we\nhave carefully avoided all gratuitous assumptions, we feel confident that\nour readers need no further arguments to be convinced of its value as\ncompared with the hypothetical views of the old physicists. As, however,\nthe conclusions of the peripatetic school concerning the constitution\nand generation of natural substances have still some ardent supporters,\nwho think that the strictly substantial generations and corruptions are\ndemonstrated by unanswerable arguments, we have yet to show that such\npretended arguments consist of mere assumption and equivocation.\n\nThe first argument in favor of the old theory may be presented under\nthe following form: \u201cEvery natural substance is _unum per se_--that\nis, substantially one. Therefore no natural substance implies more\nthan _one_ substantial form.\u201d The antecedent is assumed as evident,\nand the consequent is proved by the principle that \u201cfrom two beings in\nact it is impossible to obtain a being substantially one.\u201d Hence it is\nconcluded that all natural substances, as water, flesh, iron, etc., have\na substantial form which gives to the first matter the being of water, of\nflesh, of iron, etc.\n\nThis argument, instead of proving the truth of the theory, proves its\nweakness; for it consists of a _petitio principii_. What right has the\nperipatetic school to assume that every natural substance is _unum per\nse_ substantially? A substance physically simple is, of course, _unum\nper se_ substantially; but water, flesh, iron, and the other natural\nsubstances are not physically simple, since they imply quantity of mass\nand quantity of volume, which presuppose a number of material terms\nactually distinct, and therefore possessing their distinct substantial\nforms. No compound substance can be _unum per se_ as a substance; it can\nbe _unum per se_ only as a compound essence; and for this reason every\nnatural substance contains as many _substantial_ forms as it contains\nprimitive elements, whereas it has only one _essential_ form, which gives\nthe first being to its compound nature. This _one_ essential form is, as\nwe have explained, the specific composition of its constituent elements.\n\nThe principle \u201cFrom two beings in act it is impossible to obtain a being\n_substantially_ one\u201d is perfectly true; but it will be false if, instead\nof \u201csubstantially,\u201d we put \u201cessentially\u201d; for all essences physically\ncompounded result from the union of a certain number of actual beings,\nand yet every compound essence is _unum per se_ essentially, though not\nsubstantially. For, as _unum per accidens_ is that which has something\nsuperadded to its essential principles, so _unum per se_ is that which\nincludes nothing in itself but its essential principles; and consequently\nevery essence, as such, is _unum per se_, whether it be physically simple\nor not--that is, whether it be one substance or a number of substances\nconspiring into a specific compound. Hence flesh, water, iron, and every\nother natural substance may be, and are, _unum per se_, notwithstanding\nthe fact that they consist of a number of primitive elements and contain\nas many substantial forms as components.\n\nIt is therefore manifest that this first argument has no strength. No\nancient or modern philosopher has ever proved that any natural substance\nis _substantially_ one. To prove such an assertion it would be necessary\nto show that the physical compound is physically simple; which, we\ntrust, no one will attempt to show. Even Liberatore, whose efforts to\nrevive among us the peripatetic theory have been so remarkable, seems to\nhave felt the utter impossibility of substantiating such an arbitrary\nsupposition by anything like a proof, as he lays it down without even\npretending to investigate its value. \u201cTrue bodies,\u201d says he--\u201cthat is,\nbodies which are substances, and not mere aggregates of substances--are\nessentially constituted of matter and substantial form.\u201d[65] Indeed, if\na body is not an aggregate of substances, it must be evident to every\none that the essence of that body is exclusively constituted of matter\nand substantial form. But where is a body to be found which is not an\naggregate of substances--that is, of primitive elements? The learned\nauthor omits to examine this essential point, clearly because there are\nneither facts in science nor arguments in philosophy by which it can\nbe settled favorably to the peripatetic view. Thus the whole theory of\nsubstantial generations, understood in the peripatetic sense, rests on a\nmere assumption contradicted, as we know, by natural science no less than\nby metaphysical reasoning.\n\nThe second argument of the peripatetic school is as follows: When the\nmatter has its first being, all form supervening to it is accidental; for\nthe matter which has its first being cannot receive but a being _secundum\nquid_--that is, a mode of being which is an accident. But the natural\nsubstance cannot be constituted by an accidental form. Therefore the\nform of the natural substance does not supervene to any matter having\nits first being, but itself gives the first being to its matter, and\ntherefore is a strictly substantial form.\n\nOur answer is very plain. We admit that, when the matter has its first\nbeing, all supervening form is accidental _to it_; and we admit, also,\nthat the composition of matter with matter is an accidental entity,\nand gives to the matter an accidental mode of being. This, however,\ndoes not mean that the specific composition is an _accidental form_\nof the compound nature. Composition, as compared with substance, is\nan accident; but, as compared with the essence of the compound, is an\n_essential_ constituent, as we have already remarked; for it is of the\nessence of all physical compounds to have a number of substances as their\nmatter, and a specific composition as their form. In other terms, the\nessence of a physical compound involves substance and accident alike;\nbut what is an accident of the component substances is not an accident\nof the compound essence. Hence the proposition, \u201cThe natural substance\ncannot be constituted by an accidental form,\u201d must be distinguished. If\n\u201cnatural substance\u201d stands for the primitive substances that constitute\nthe matter of the compound nature, the proposition is true; for all\nsuch substances have their strictly substantial forms, as is obvious.\nIf \u201cnatural substance\u201d stands for the compound nature itself, inasmuch\nas it is a compound of a certain species, then the proposition must\nbe subdistinguished. For, if by \u201caccidental form\u201d we understand an\naccident of the component substances, the proposition will be false;\nfor, evidently, the compound nature is constituted by composition, and\ncomposition is an accident of the components. Whilst, if the words\n\u201caccidental form\u201d are meant to express an accident of the compound\nnature, then the proposition is true again; for the composition is not an\naccidental, but an essential, constituent of the compound, as every one\nmust concede. Yet \u201cessential\u201d is not to be confounded with \u201csubstantial\u201d;\nand therefore, though all natural substances must have their essential\nform, it does not follow that such a form gives the first being to the\nmatter, but only that it gives the first being to the specific compound\ninasmuch as it is such a compound. Had the peripatetics kept in view,\nwhen treating of natural substances, the necessary distinction between\nthe essential and the strictly substantial forms, they would possibly\nhave concluded, with the learned Card. Tolomei, that their theory was \u201ca\ngroundless assumption,\u201d and their arguments a \u201cbegging the question.\u201d\nBut, unfortunately, Aristotle\u2019s authority, before the discoveries of\nmodern science, had such a weight with our forefathers that they scarcely\ndared to question what they believed to be the cardinal point of his\nphilosophy. But let us go on.\n\nA third argument in favor of the old theory is drawn from the\nconstitution of man. In man the soul is a substantial form, the root of\nall his properties, and the constituent of the human substance. Hence\nall other natural substances, it is argued, must have in a similar\nmanner some substantial principle containing the formal reason of their\nconstitution, of their natural properties, and of their operations. \u201cThe\nfact that man is composed of matter and of substantial form shows,\u201d says\nSuarez, \u201cthat in natural things there is a substantial subject naturally\nsusceptible of being informed by a substantial act. Such a subject (the\nmatter) is therefore an imperfect and incomplete substance, and requires\nto be constantly under some substantial act.\u201d[66] Whence it follows that\nall natural substance consists of matter actuated by a substantial form.\n\nThis argument, according to Scotus and his celebrated school, is based\non a false assumption. Man is not _one substance_, but _one nature_\nresulting from the union of two distinct substances, the spiritual and\nthe material; and to speak of a _human substance_ as one is nothing less\nthan to beg the whole question. Every one must admit that the human\nsoul is the _natural_ form of the animated body, and that, inasmuch as\nit is a substance and not an accident, the same soul may be called a\n\u201csubstantial\u201d form; but, according to the Scotistic school, to which we\ncannot but adhere on this point, it is impossible to admit the Thomistic\nnotion that the soul gives the first being to the matter of the body,\nso as to constitute _one substance_ with it; and accordingly it is\nimpossible to admit that the soul is a strictly \u201csubstantial\u201d form in\nthe rigid peripatetic sense of the word; and thus the above argument,\nwhich is based entirely on the unity of human _substance_, comes to\nnaught.\n\nThis is not the place to develop the reasons adduced by the Scotists\nand by others against the Thomistic school, or to refute the arguments\nby which the latter have supported their opinion. We will merely remark\nthat, according to a principle universally received, by the Thomists no\nless than by their opponents (_Actus est qui distinguit_), there can be\nno distinct substantial terms without distinct substantial acts; and\nconsequently our body cannot have distinct substantial parts, unless it\nhas as many distinct substantial acts. And as there is no doubt that\nthere are in our body a great number of distinct substantial parts (as\nmany, in fact, as there are primitive elements of matter), there is no\ndoubt that there are also a great number of distinct substantial acts.\nIt is not true, therefore, that the human body (or any other body) is\nconstituted by _one_ \u201csubstantial\u201d form. The soul is not defined as the\n_first act of matter_, but it is defined as _the first act of a physical\norganic body_; which means that the body must possess its own _physical_\nbeing and its _bodily_ and _organic_ form before it can be informed by\na soul. And surely such a body needs not receive from the soul what it\nalready possesses as a condition of its information; it must therefore\nreceive that alone in regard to which it is still potential; and this is,\nnot the first act of being, but the first act of life. But if the soul\nwere a strictly \u201csubstantial\u201d form according to the Thomistic opinion, it\nshould be _the first act of matter_ as such, and it would have no need\nof a previously-formed physical organic body; for the position of such\na form would, of itself, entail the existence of its substantial term.\nWe must therefore conclude that the human soul is called a \u201csubstantial\u201d\nform, simply because it is a substance and not an accident,[67] and\nbecause, in the language of the schools, all the \u201cessential\u201d forms have\nbeen called \u201csubstantial,\u201d as we have noticed at the beginning of this\narticle. We believe that it is owing to this double meaning of the\nepithet \u201csubstantial\u201d that both S. Thomas and his followers were led to\nconfound the natural and essential with the strictly substantial forms.\nThey reasoned thus: \u201cWhat is not accidental must be substantial\u201d; and\nthey did not reflect that \u201cwhat is not accidental may be _essential_,\u201d\nwithout being substantial in the meaning attached by them to the term.\n\nBut since we cannot here discuss the question concerning the human soul\nas its importance deserves, let us admit, for the sake of the argument,\nthat the human soul gives the first being to its body, and is thus a\nstrictly substantial form in the sense intended by our opponents. It\nstill strikes us that no logical mind can from such a particular premise\ndraw such a general conclusion as is drawn in the objected argument. Is\nit lawful to apply to inanimate bodies in the conclusion what in the\npremises is asserted only of animated beings? Or is there any parity\nbetween the form of the human nature and that of a piece of chalk? The\nabove-mentioned Card. Tolomei well remarks that \u201csuch a pretended\nparity is full of disparities, and that from the human soul, rational,\nspiritual, subsistent, and immortal, we cannot infer the nature of those\nincomplete, corruptible, and corporeal entities which enter into the\nconstitution of purely material things.\u201d[68]\n\nThat \u201call natural substances must have some substantial principle\u201d we\nfully admit. For we have shown that in every natural compound there are\njust as many substantial forms as there are primitive elements in it, and\ntherefore there is no doubt that each point of matter receives its first\nbeing through a strictly substantial form. But these substantial forms\nare the forms of the components; they are not the _specific form_ of the\ncompound. Nor do we deny that the properties of the compound must be\nultimately traced to some substantial principle; for we admit the common\naxiom that \u201cthe first principle of the being is the first principle of\nits operations\u201d; and thus we attribute the activity of the compound\nnature to the substantial forms of its components. But we maintain that\nthe same components may constitute different specific compounds having\ndifferent properties and different operations, according as they are\ndisposed in different manners and subjected to a different composition.\nThis being evident, we must be allowed to conclude that the proximate and\nspecific constituent form of a compound inanimate nature is nothing else\nthan its specific composition.\n\nOur opponents cannot evade this conclusion, which annihilates the whole\nperipatetic theory, unless they show either that there may be a compound\nwithout composition, or that in natural things there is no material\ncomposition of substantial parts. The first they cannot prove, as a\ncompound without composition is a mere contradiction. Nor can they prove\nthe second; for they admit that natural substances are extended, and it\nis evident that there can be no material extension without parts outside\nof parts, and therefore without material composition.\n\nAs to the passage of Suarez objected in the argument, two simple remarks\nwill suffice. The first is that \u201cthe fact that man is composed of matter\nand substantial form does _not_ show that in other natural things there\nis a substantial subject naturally susceptible of being informed by a\nsubstantial act\u201d; unless, indeed, the epithet \u201csubstantial\u201d be taken in\nthe sense of \u201cessential,\u201d as we have above explained. But, even in this\ncase, there will always be an immense difference between such essential\nforms, because the form of a human body must be a substance, whilst\nthe form of the purely material compounds can be nothing else than\ncomposition. The second remark is that, as the first matter, according to\nSuarez, has its own entity of essence and its own entity of existence,\n\u201cthe substantial subject naturally susceptible of being informed\u201d has\nneither need nor capability of receiving its _first_ being; whence it\nfollows that such a substantial subject is never susceptible of being\ninformed by a truly and strictly substantial form. We know that Suarez\nrejects this inference on the ground that the entity of matter, according\nto him, is incomplete, and requires to be perfected by a substantial\nform. But the truth is that no strictly substantial form can be conceived\nto inform a matter which has already an actual entity of its own; for\nthe substantial form is not simply that which _perfects the matter_ (for\nevery form perfects the matter), but it is that which _gives to it the\nfirst being_, as all philosophers agree. On the other hand, it might be\nproved that the matter which is a subject of natural generations is not\nan _incomplete_ substantial entity, and that the intrinsic act by which\nit is constituted, is not, as Suarez pretends, an act _secundum quid_,\nbut an act _simpliciter_; it being evident that nothing can be in act\n_secundum quid_ unless it be already in act _simpliciter_; whence it is\nmanifest that the _first_ act of matter cannot be an act _secundum quid_.\n\nIt would take too long to discuss here the whole Suarezian theory. Its\nfundamental points are two: The first, that the matter which is the\nsubject of natural generations \u201chas an entity of its own\u201d; the second,\nthat \u201csuch an entity is substantially incomplete.\u201d The first of these two\npoints he establishes against the peripatetics with very good reasons,\ndrawn from the nature of generation; but the second he does not succeed\nin demonstrating, as he does not, and cannot, demonstrate that an act\n_secundum quia_ precedes the act _simpliciter_. For this reason we\nventured to say in our previous article that the first matter of Suarez\ncorresponds to our primitive elements, which, though unknown to him, are,\nin fact, the first physical matter of which the natural substances are\ncomposed. What we mean is that, though Suarez intended to prove something\nelse, he has only succeeded in proving that the matter of which natural\nsubstances are composed is as true and as complete a substance as any\nprimitive substance can be. And we even entertain some suspicion that\nthis great writer would have held a language much more conformable to\nour modern views, had he not been afraid of striking too heavy a blow\nat the peripatetic school, then so formidable and respected. For why\nshould he call \u201csubstantial\u201d the forms of compound bodies, when he knew\nthat the matter of those bodies had already an actual entity of its own?\nHe certainly saw that such forms were by no means the substantial forms\nof S. Thomas and of Aristotle; but was it prudent to state the fact\nopenly, and to draw from it such other conclusions as would have proved\nexceedingly distasteful to the greatest number of his contemporaries?\nHowever this may be, it cannot be denied that the Suarezian theory,\ngranting to the matter of the bodies an entity of its own, leads to the\nrejection of the truly substantial generations, and to the final adoption\nof the doctrine which we are maintaining in accordance with the received\nprinciples of modern natural science. But let us proceed.\n\nThe fourth argument in favor of the old theory is the following: If the\ncomponents remain _actually_ in the compound, and do not lose their\nsubstantial forms by the accession of a new substantial form, it follows\nthat no new substance is ever generated; and thus what we call \u201cnew\nsubstances\u201d will be only \u201cnew accidental aggregates of substances,\u201d and\nthere will be no substantial difference between them. But this cannot be\nadmitted; for who will admit that bread and flesh are _substantially_\nidentical? And yet who can deny that from bread flesh can be generated?\n\nWe concede most explicitly that no new \u201csubstance\u201d is, or can be, ever\ngenerated by natural processes. God alone can produce a substance, and\nhe produces it by creation. To say that natural causes can destroy the\nsubstantial forms by which the matter is actuated, and produce new\nsubstantial forms giving a new _first_ being to the matter, is to endow\nthe natural causes with a power infinitely superior to their nature. The\naction of a natural cause is the production of an accidental act; and\nso long as \u201caccidental\u201d does not mean \u201csubstantial,\u201d we contend that no\nsubstantial form can originate from any natural agent or concurrence of\nnatural agents. It is therefore evident for us that no \u201csubstance\u201d can\never arise by natural generation.\n\nBut, though this is true, it is evident also that from pre-existing\nsubstances \u201ca new compound nature\u201d can be generated by the action of\nnatural causes. These new compound natures are, indeed, called \u201cnew\nsubstances,\u201d but they are the _old_ substances under a _new_ specific\ncomposition; that is, they are not new as substances, though they form\n_a new specific compound_. To say that such a compound is \u201ca merely\naccidental aggregate of substances\u201d is no objection. Were we to maintain\nthat _one single substance_ is an accidental aggregate of substances,\nthe objection would be very natural; but to say, as we do, that _one\ncompound essence_ is an aggregate of substances united by accidental\nactions, is to say what is evidently true and unobjectionable. Yet we\nmust add that the composition of such substances, accidental though it be\nto them individually, is _essential_ to the compound nature; for this\ncompound nature is a special essence, endowed with special properties\ndependent proximately on the special composition, and only remotely on\nthe substantial forms of the component substances.\n\nThat there may be \u201cno substantial difference\u201d between two natural\ncompounds is quite admissible; but it does not follow from the argument.\nIt is admissible; because a different specific composition suffices to\ncause a different specific compound; as is the case with gum-arabic\nand cane-sugar, which consist of a different combination of the same\ncomponents. Yet it does not follow from the argument; because the\nspecific composition of different compounds may require, and usually\ndoes require, a different set of components--that is, of substances;\nwhich shows that there is also a _substantial_ difference between natural\ncompounds, although their essential form be not the substantial form of\nthe peripatetics.\n\nLastly, we willingly concede that bread and flesh are not substantially\nidentical; but we must deny that their substantial difference arises\nfrom their having a different substantial form. Bread and flesh are\ndifferent specific compounds; they differ essentially and substantially,\nor formally and materially, because they involve different substances\nunder a different specific composition. To say that bread and flesh are\n_the same matter_ under two different substantial forms would be to give\nthe lie to scientific evidence. This we cannot do, however much we may\nadmire the great men who, from want of positive knowledge, thought it the\nsafest course to accept from Aristotle what seemed to them a sufficient\nexplanation of things. On the other hand, is it not strange that our\nopponents, who admit of no other substantial form in man, except the\nsoul, should now mention a substantial form of flesh? To be consistent,\nthey should equally admit a _substantial_ form of blood, a _substantial_\nform of bone, etc. Perhaps this would help them to understand that\nthe epithet \u201csubstantial,\u201d when applied to characterize the forms of\nmaterial compounds, has been a source of innumerable equivocations, and\nthat the schoolmen would have saved themselves much trouble, and avoided\ninextricable difficulties, if they had made the necessary distinction\nbetween _substantial_ and _essential_ forms.\n\nThe arguments to which we have replied are the main support of the\nperipatetic doctrine; we, at least, have not succeeded in finding any\nother argument on the subject which calls for a special refutation. We\nbeg, therefore, to conclude that the theory of strictly substantial\ngenerations, as well as that of the constitution of bodies, as held by\nthe peripatetic school, rest on no better ground than \u201cassumption,\u201d or\n_petitio principii_, as Card. Tolomei reluctantly avows. There would\nyet remain, as he observes, the argument from authority; but when it is\nknown that the great men whose authority is appealed to were absolutely\nignorant of the most important facts and laws of molecular science, and\nwhen it is proved that such facts and laws exclude the very possibility\nof the old theory,[69] we are free to dismiss the argument. \u201cWere S.\nThomas to come back on earth,\u201d says Father Tongiorgi, \u201che would be a\nperipatetic no more.\u201d No doubt of it. S. Thomas would teach his friends a\nlesson, by letting them know that his true followers are not those who\nshut their eyes to the evidence of facts, that they may not be disturbed\nin their peripateticism, but those who imitate him by endeavoring to\nutilize, in the interest of sound philosophy, the positive knowledge of\ntheir own time, as he did the scanty positive knowledge of his.\n\nBut we have yet an important point to notice. The ancient theory is\nwholly grounded on the possibility of the eduction of new substantial\nforms out of the potency of matter; hence, if no truly substantial\nform can be so educed, the theory falls to the ground. We have already\nshown that true substantial forms giving the first being to the matter\ncannot naturally be educed out of the potency of matter.[70] This would\nsuffice to justify us in rejecting the peripatetic theory. But to\nsatisfy our peripatetic friends that we did not come too hastily to such\na conclusion, and to give them an opportunity of examining their own\nphilosophical conscience, we beg leave to submit to their appreciation\nthe following additional reasons.\n\nFirst, all philosophers agree that the matter cannot be actuated by a\nnew form, unless it be _actually_ disposed to receive it. But actual\ndisposition is itself an accidental form; and all matter that has an\naccidental form has also _a fortiori_ a substantial form. Therefore\nno matter is actually disposed to receive a new form, but that which\nhas actually a substantial form. But the matter which has actually a\nsubstantial form is not susceptible of a new substantial form; for the\nmatter which has its first being is not potential with regard to it, but\nonly with regard to some mode of being. Therefore no new form truly and\nstrictly substantial can be bestowed upon existing matter.\n\nSecondly, if existing matter is to receive a new substantial form, its\nold substantial form must give way and disappear, as our opponents\nthemselves teach, by natural corruption. But the form which gives\nthe first being to the matter is not corruptible. Therefore no truly\nsubstantial form can give way to a new substantial form. The minor of\nthis syllogism is easily proved. For all natural substances consist\nof simple elements, of which every one has its first being by a form\naltogether simple and incorruptible. Moreover, the substantial form of\nprimitive elements is a product of creation, not of generation; the term\nof divine, not of natural, action; it cannot, therefore, perish, except\nby annihilation. The only form which is liable to corruption is that\nwhich links together the elements of the specific compound; but this is a\nnatural and essential, not a strictly substantial, form.\n\nThirdly, the form which gives the first being to the matter is altogether\nincorruptible, if the same is not subject to alteration; for alteration\nis the way to corruption. But no form giving the first being to the\nmatter is subject to alteration. For, according to the universal\ndoctrine, it is the matter, not the form, that is in potency to receive\nthe action of natural agents. The form is an active, not a passive,\nprinciple; and therefore it is ready to act, not to be acted on; which\nproves that substantial forms are inalterable and incorruptible. We are\nat a loss to understand how it has been possible for so many illustrious\nphilosophers of the Aristotelic school not to see the open contradiction\nbetween the corruption of strictly substantial forms and their own\nfundamental axiom: \u201cEvery being acts inasmuch as it is in act, and\nsuffers inasmuch as it is in potency.\u201d If the substantial form is subject\nto corruption, surely the substance suffers not only inasmuch as it is in\npotency, but also, and even more, inasmuch as it is in act. We say \u201ceven\nmore,\u201d because the substance would, inasmuch as it is in act, suffer the\ndestruction of its very essence; whereas, as it is in potency, it would\nnot suffer more than an accidental change. It is therefore manifest that\nthe corruption of substantial forms cannot be admitted without denying\none of the most certain and universal principles of metaphysics.\n\nFourthly, if the natural agents concerned in the generation of a new\nbeing cannot produce anything but accidental determinations, nor\ndestroy anything but other accidental determinations, then, evidently,\nthe form which is destroyed in the generation of a new thing is an\naccidental entity, as also the new form introduced. But the efficient\ncauses of natural generations cannot produce anything but accidental\ndeterminations, and cannot destroy anything but other accidental\ndeterminations. Therefore in the generation of a new being both the\nform which is destroyed and the form which replaces it are accidental\nentities. In this syllogism the major is evident; and the minor is\ncertain, both physically and metaphysically. For it is well known that\nthe natural agents concerned in the generation of a new substance have\nno other power than that of producing local motion; also, that the\nmatter acted on has no other passive potency than that of receiving\nlocal motion. Hence no action of matter upon matter can be admitted\nbut that which tends to give an accidental determination to local\nmovement; and if any cause be known to exert actions not tending to\nimpart local movement, we must immediately conclude that such a cause is\nnot a material substance. On the other hand, all act produced belongs\nto an order of reality infinitely inferior to that of its efficient\nprinciple; so that, as God cannot efficiently produce another God, so\nalso a contingent substance cannot efficiently produce another contingent\nsubstance; and a substantial form cannot efficiently produce another\nsubstantial form; but as all that God efficiently produces is infinitely\ninferior to him in the order of reality, so all act produced by a created\nsubstance is infinitely inferior to the act which is the principle of\nits production.[71] It is therefore impossible to admit that the act\nproduced, and the act which is the principle of its production, belong\nto the same order of reality; in other terms, they cannot be both\n\u201csubstantial\u201d; but while the act by which the agent acts is substantial,\nthe act produced is always accidental. And thus it is plain that no\nnatural agent or combination of natural agents can ever produce a truly\nsubstantial form.\n\nA great deal more might be said on this subject; but we think that our\nphilosophical readers need no further reasonings of ours to be fully\nconvinced of the inadmissibility of the Aristotelic hypothesis concerning\nthe constitution and the generation of natural substances. Would that the\ngreat men who adopted it in past ages had had a knowledge of the workings\nof nature as extensive as we now possess; their love of truth would have\nprompted them to frame a philosophical theory as superior to that of the\nGreek philosopher as fact is to assumption. As it is, we must strive to\ndo within the compass of our means what they would have done much better,\nand would do if they were among the living, with their gigantic powers.\nWe cannot hold in metaphysics what we have to reject in physics. To say\nthat what is true in physics may be false in metaphysics is no less an\nabsurdity than Luther\u2019s proposition, that \u201csomething may be true in\nphilosophy which is false in theology.\u201d\n\n\nTHE MODERN LITERATURE OF RUSSIA.[72]\n\nThe history of Russia, during the course of the last twenty years, has\nentered upon a new era. It also has had its 19th of February,[73] its\nday of emancipation; and from the hour when it was permitted to treat\nof the times anterior to the reign of the Emperor Nicholas, although\nstill maintaining a certain reserve, it has lost no time in profiting by\nthe benefit of which advantage has been eagerly taken. A multitude of\nwritings, more or less important, which have since then been published,\nprove that, in order to become fruitful, it only needed to be freed from\nthe ligatures of the ancient censure; and it is wonderful to note the\nlarge number of publications with which the history of the last century\nfinds itself enriched in so short a space of time, besides the documents\nof every description that were never previously allowed to see the light\nof day, but from which the interdict has been removed that for so long\nhad condemned them to the dust and oblivion of locked-up archives.\n\nNor has this been all. The riches of this new mine were sufficiently\nplentiful to supply matter for entire collections. Societies were formed\nfor the purpose of arranging and publishing them without delay, in order\nto satisfy the legitimate desire of so many to know the past of their\ncountry, not only from official digests, but from the original sources of\ninformation. It will suffice to name the principal collections created\nunder the inspiration of this idea, such as the _Russian Archives_, and\nalso the _XVIIIth and XIXth Centuries_, of M. Bartenev, guardian of the\nLibrary of Tcherkov; the _Old Russian Times_ (_Russka\u00efa Starina_), of\nM. Semevski; the _Historical Society of the Annalist Nestor_, formed at\nKiev, under the presidency of M. Antonovitch; the _Collection of the\nHistorical Society of St. Petersburg_, under the exalted patronage of the\nczarovitch; without enumerating the periodical publications issued by\nsocieties which were already existing, as at Moscow and elsewhere.\n\nTo arrange in some degree of order the rapid notice which is all we must\npermit ourselves, and laying aside for the present any consideration of\nperiodical literature, we will mention, in the first place, the works\nupon Russian history in general, ecclesiastical and secular; then the\nvarious memoirs and biographies; concluding with bibliography, or the\nhistory of literature.\n\nI. GENERAL HISTORY OF RUSSIA.--Amongst the works which treat of this\nsubject, that of M. Soloviev indisputably occupies the first place.\nHis _History of Russia from the Earliest Times_ (_Istoria Rossiis\ndrevneichikh vremen_) advances with slow but steady pace, and has at this\ntime reached its twenty-third volume, embracing the second septennate\nof the Empress Elizabeth, which concludes with the year 1755--a year\nmemorable in the annals of Russian literature, as witnessing the\nestablishment of the first Russian university, namely, that of Moscow.\nIt is not surprising that this subject has inspired the author, who is\na professor of the same university, to write pages full of interest.\nWith regard to what he relates respecting the exceedingly low level of\ncivilization to which the Russian clergy had at that time sunk, other\nauthors have made it the subject of special treatises, and with an\namplitude of development which could not have found place in a general\nhistory. M. Soloviev\u2019s method is well known--_i.e._, to turn to the\nadvantage of science the original documents, for the most part inedited,\nand frequently difficult of access to the generality of writers. But does\nhe always make an impartial use of them? This is a question. The manner\nin which he has recounted the law-suit of the Patriarch Nicon--to cite\nthis only as an example--does not speak altogether favorably for the\nhistorian; besides, his history is too voluminous to be accessible to the\ngenerality of readers; and when it will be finished, who can divine?\n\nFor this reason a complete history, in accordance with recent\ndiscoveries, and reduced to two or three volumes, would meet with a warm\nwelcome. That of Oustrialov is already out of date; the little abridgment\nof M. Soloviev is too short; and the work of M. Bestoujev-Rumine remains\nat its first volume, the two which are to follow, and which have been\nlong promised, not having yet appeared.\n\nM. Kostomarov, who has just celebrated the 25th year of his literary\ncareer, is also publishing a _History of Russia, Considered in the Lives\nof its Principal Representatives_,[74] of which the interest increases\nas the period of which it treats approaches our own. Two sections have\nalready appeared. The first, which is devoted to the history of the house\nof S. Vladimir, embraces four centuries; the second, as considerable as\nits predecessor in amount of matter, comprises no more than the interval\nof about a century--that is to say, the reigns of Ivan the Terrible, his\nfather, and his grandfather (1462-1583). Faithful to the plan he has\nadopted, the author relates the life and deeds of the most remarkable\nmen, whether in the political or social order: thus, in the second\nsection, after the historical figures of Ivan III., Basil, and Ivan IV.,\nwe have the Archbishop Gennadius, the monk Nilus Sorski, whom the Russian\nChurch reckons among her saints: the Prince Patrike\u00efev, the celebrated\nMaximus, a monk of Mt. Athos, and, lastly, the heretic Bachkine with his\nsectaries. The first volume will be terminated by the third section,\nwhich will conclude the history of the house of Vladimir.\n\nThis history meets with a violent opponent and an implacable judge in the\nperson of M. Pogodine, the veteran of Russian historians. The antagonism\nof these two writers, M. Pogodine and M. Kostomarov, is of long standing.\nBut never have polemics taken a more aggressive tone than on the present\noccasion; and the aggression is on the part of M. Pogodine, who accuses\nhis adversary of nothing more nor less than mystifying the public and\ncorrupting the rising generation; of having arbitrarily omitted the\norigin and commencement of the nation; of throwing, by preference, into\nstrong relief all the dark pages of the history; and, lastly, declares\nhim to be guilty of venality. To these charges M. Kostomarov replies\nthat his censor is playing the part of a policeman rather than of a\ncritic; that his arguments, like his anger, inspire him with pity; and\nthat the most elementary rules of propriety forbid him to imitate his\nlanguage. Coming to historical facts, he explains the reasons for his\nsilence on the _pagan_ period of Russian history; for treating the call\nof Rurik as a fable, together with a multitude of other stories of the\nancient chronicles; for seeing in the Varangian[75] princes nothing\nbut barbarians, and the pagans of this period the same. He also brings\nproofs to show that Vladimir Monomachus was really the first to seek\nallies among the tribes of the Polovtsis; that Vassilko caused the whole\npopulation of Minsk to be exterminated; and that Andrew Bogolubski\nwas not by any means beloved by the people, as had been stated by M.\nPogodine--these three subjects being among the principal points of\ndispute.\n\nBut we have no desire to pursue any further details which cannot\nin themselves have any interest for the public, although, taken in\nconnection with the histories of the antagonistic authors, they may\nbe suggestive. For instance, it is not easy to forget what the ardent\nprofessor of Moscow relates of himself with reference to certain of his\nfellow-countrywomen who had embraced the Catholic faith. Being at Rome,\nhe tells us (and his words depict in a lively manner the character of his\nzeal) that he felt himself strongly tempted to _seize by the hair_ two\nRussian ladies[76] whom he saw crossing the Piazza di Spagna to enter\na Catholic church. He is said to be at this time preparing a _Campaign\nagainst Adverse Powers_, in which he combats \u201chistoric heresies.\u201d\n\nBut the services rendered by M. Pogodine to the national history are\nundoubtedly great. We may notice a new one in his _Ancient History of\nRussia before the Mongolian Yoke_,[77] in which, after grouping the\nRussian principalities around that of Kiev as their political centre\nanterior to the invasion of the Mongols, he also gives the separate\nhistory of each. In the second volume the church, literature, the state,\nmanners, and customs, are treated upon in turn, and form a series\nof pictures traced by a skilful hand, closing with a terribly-vivid\ndescription of the Tartar invasion.\n\nII. PARTICULAR OR INDIVIDUAL HISTORY.--It is about two years since\nhistorical science in Russia sustained a loss in the death of M.\nP\u00e9karski, who had scarcely reached his forty-fifth year. This laborious\nand learned writer, who, in so short a space of time, produced an unusual\nnumber of important works,[78] died after having just completed his\n_History of the Academy of Sciences_. This work contains about eighteen\nhundred pages. After a solid introduction there follow the biographies\nof the first fifty members of the Academy, all of whom were foreigners,\nto which succeed those of Trediakovski and Lomonosov. In glancing over\nthese biographies one is struck with the preponderance of the German\nelement, the Academy, at its commencement, being almost exclusively\ncomposed of learned men of that nation. With the reign of Elizabeth the\nRussian party began to take the lead, and it was Lomonosov, the son of a\nfisherman of Archangelsk, who was the life and soul of it, as a learned\nman, an historian, and a poet. P\u00e9karski mentions some curious details\nrespecting the correspondence between Peter I. and the Sorbonne, touching\nthe reunion of the Russian Church with Rome. It is to be wished that\nthe documents treating of this matter, and which are preserved in the\narchives of the academy, might be published.\n\nIII. ECCLESIASTICAL HISTORY.--After the _History of the Russian Church_,\nby Mgr. Macarius, the present Metropolitan of Lithuania, which has\njust reached its seventh volume, the first place is due to that by M.\nZnamenski, entitled _The Parochial Clergy in Russia, subsequent to the\nReform of Peter I._[79] In presence of the Protestant reforms which\nare in course of introduction into the official church by the Russian\ngovernment, M. Znamenski\u2019s book offers an eminently practical interest,\nand it is greatly to be wished that those in power would profit by its\nserious teaching. The author advances nothing without producing his\nproofs, drawn from official documents, which he has taken great pains to\nsearch for and consult wherever they were to be found.\n\nHis work is divided into five chapters, the first of which treats of the\n\u201cNomination of the Parochial Clergy.\u201d Down to the middle of the XVIIIth\ncentury its members were chosen on the elective system; it is the ancient\nmode of nomination, which existed also in the Catholic Church. But from\nthe middle of the XVIIIth century this gave place, in Russia, to the\n_hereditary_ system, which has become one of the distinctive features of\nthe Russian communion,[80] and in which may be found the cause of the\nseparation and the spirit of caste which from that time began to isolate\nthe clergy from the rest of society, and made them in all respects a body\napart.\n\nThis spirit of caste still subsists, though not in so perceptible a\ndegree as formerly. One inevitable consequence of this Levitism was the\ndifficulty of quitting the caste when once a person belonged to it, as\nthe author develops in his second chapter (pp. 176-354). In the third,\nhe treats of the \u201cCivil Rights of the Clergy,\u201d and there depicts the\nrevolting abuses in which the secular authorities allowed themselves with\nregard to the unfortunate clergy. The arbitrary injustice to which they\nwere subjected during the whole of the XVIIIth century, and of which the\nstill vivid traces remained in the time of the Emperor Alexander I.,\nappears almost incredible. For instance, a poor parochial incumbent,\nhaving had the misfortune to pass before the house of the principal\nproprietor of the place without having taken off his hat to that\npersonage, who was on the balcony with company, was immediately seized,\nthrust into a barrel, and thus rolled from the top of the hill on which\nthe seignorial dwelling was situated, into the river which flowed at\nits base. His death was almost instantaneous. Justice, as represented\nin that quarter, being informed of this new species of murder, found\nitself unequal to touch the little potentate, and hushed up the affair.\nSimilar horrors were by no means rare in the XVIIIth century. In the\nfourth chapter (pp. 507-617) the author speaks of the \u201cRelations of the\nClergy with the Ecclesiastical Authorities\u201d; and although the picture he\ndraws is somewhat less sombre than the preceding, still it is melancholy\nenough. Venality the most systematic, and rigor that can hardly be said\nto fall short of cruelty, were, for more than half a century, the most\nprominent features of the ecclesiastical government. No post, however\nsmall or humble, could be obtained without the imposition of a purely\narbitrary tax; and these taxes formed in the end a very considerable\namount. As for the spirit of the government, its fundamental maxim was\nto _hold down_ the lower clergy _in humility_ (_smireni\u00e9_)--a formula\nwhich was imprinted on the very bodies of the unfortunate victims.\nThe slightest fault or error on their part was punished by corporal\nchastisements so severe that the sufferer sometimes expired under the\nblows. Priests were treated by their chief pastors as beings on a level\nwith the meanest of slaves. One of these _vladykas_ (which is the name by\nwhich the Russian bishops are designated) condemned his subordinates to\ndig fish-ponds on his estate, which ponds were to be so shaped as to form\non a gigantic scale the initials (E. B.) of his lordship\u2019s name.[81]\n\nThe failure of resources, so materially diminished by the cupidity of\ntheir superiors, forced the parochial clergy to contrive for themselves\nan income by means more or less lawful. Besides the legal charges, they\ninvented various small taxes on their own behalf; or, when all else\nfailed, they begged their bread from their own parishioners, who were\napt to be more liberal of reproaches than of alms. The well-being of the\nsecular clergy being one of the questions under consideration by the\npresent government, the author has devoted to it much of his last chapter.\n\nSuch is the general plan of this book, which must be read through to give\nan idea of the humiliating degradation to which the hapless clergy were\nfor more than a century condemned, thanks to the anomaly of institutions\nstill more than to the abuses practised by individuals. When the source\nis corrupt, can the stream be pure?\n\nBut all this relates to the \u201cOrthodox\u201d of the empire. That which is\nmore directly interesting to the Catholic reader will be found in works\nrespecting the Ruthenian[82] Church, which is at this time attracting the\nattention of the West.\n\nThe _History of the Reunion of the Ancient Uniates of the West_,[83] by\nM. Ko\u00efalovitch, Professor of the Ecclesiastical (Orthodox) Academy of the\ncapital, repeats the faults of all the numerous writings, whether books,\npamphlets, or articles, which have issued from his pen in the course of\nthe last ten years, and which are painfully remarkable for their spirit\nof partiality, their preconceived ideas, their self-contradictions,\nand their hatred of the Catholic faith. An organ of the press of St.\nPetersburg has expressed a desire that the documents upon which this\nauthor professedly rests three-fourths of his last book, while purposely\nneglecting all extraneous sources whatever, whether political or\ndiplomatic, should be given to the public, which would then be enabled\nto judge for itself how far the statements based upon them are to be\ntrusted. Nor can any obstacle exist in the way of such publication,\nas was shown by the work of Moroehkine on the reunion of the Uniates\nin 1839, equally compiled from official documents of unquestionable\nimportance, which were then edited for the first time.\n\nIt is impossible not to be struck with the strange coincidence of so many\npublications upon union with the painful events which are taking place at\nthe present time in the Diocese of Khelm, and which had evidently been\npreparing long beforehand. Books have their _raison d\u2019\u00eatre_--a reason\nfor their appearance at particular periods. It is said, even, that M.\nKo\u00efalovitch is at the head of a school of opinion, and that his disciples\ncan be pointed out without difficulty. Thus, Rustchinski is the author\nof a study on the _Religious Condition of the Russian People according\nto Foreign Authors of the XVIth and XVIIth Centuries_; Nicola\u00efevski has\nwritten on _Preaching in the XVIth Century_; Dema\u00efanovitch, on _The\nJesuits in Western Russia, from 1569 to 1772_, at which latter year\nthe thread of their history is taken up and continued by Moroehkine;\nKratchkovski, on the _Interior State of the Uniate Church_ (1872); and\nStcherbinski has given the history of the Order of S. Basil. But we must\nnot prolong the catalogue, which, however, is by no means complete. Never\nhas so much literary activity been known in the \u201cOrthodox\u201d communion as\nnow, if, perhaps, we except the first times of the union.\n\nBut before passing on to another head we must not fail to mention, as\none of the principal representatives of the literary movement of the\nXVIth century, the celebrated namesake and predecessor of the present\nMetropolitan of Mesopotamia, _i.e._, Archbishop Macarius, to whom we\nare indebted for the monumental work known as the _Great Menology_, and\nwhich is a species of religious encyclop\u00e6dia, containing, besides the\nlives of the saints for every day in the year, the entire works of the\nearly fathers, as well as ascetic, canonical, and literary treatises.\nThe Arch\u00e6ographic Commission of St. Petersburg has undertaken the\nrepublication, in its integrity, of this colossal work, of which only\nthree quarto volumes in double columns have at present appeared.\n\nIV. BIOGRAPHIES.--As we have already remarked, it is interesting to\nobserve the eagerness with which the Russian people welcome everything\nthat tends to throw light upon their past. For instance, what is usually\ndrier than a catalogue? And yet the one compiled by M. M\u00e9jov has already\nreached four thousand copies. It is true that his _Systematic Catalogue_\n(of original documents) combines various qualities that are somewhat rare\nin publications of this description. It is not, however, desirable that a\ntaste for the mere reproduction of inedited manuscripts should be carried\ntoo far; the interests of science demanding rather that they should be\nmade use of in the production of works aspiring to greater completeness,\nand suited to meet the requirements of modern criticism.\n\nA certain number of works have already been written in accordance with\nthis idea. That of M. Tchistovitch, entitled _Theophanes Procopovitch\nand his Times_, may be given as a model, as may also the excellent study\nof M. Ikonnikov on Count Nicholas Mordinhov, one of the remarkable men\nwho flourished in the reign of the Emperor Alexander I. and Nicholas.\nVarious memoirs of this personage had previously appeared in different\ncollections, but no one before the young professor of Kiev had taken\nthe trouble to study the original sources upon which alone an authentic\nlife could be written, to reduce them to system, and give them a living\nform. It is not only the opinions and theories of the count which are\ngiven, but those also of contemporary society and the persons by whom\nhe was surrounded, those of the latter being occasionally too lengthily\ndeveloped. M. Ikonnikov was also, some years ago, the author of an\ninteresting work, entitled _The Influence of Byzantine Civilization\non Russian History_ (Kiev: 1870). And this leads us to mention a book\nrecently published by M. Philimonov, vice-director of the Museum of Arms,\non _Simon Ouchakov and the Iconography of his Time_.\n\nThe name of this artist has scarcely been heard in the West. Born\nin 1626, he early evinced a talent for painting, and at the age of\ntwenty-two was admitted into the number of iconographists appointed by\nthe czar; his specialty consisting in making designs, more particularly\nfor the gold-work appropriated to religious uses. Of his paintings,\nthe earliest bears the date of 1657. M. Philimonov passes in review\nall his later productions, accompanying each with a short but careful\nnotice, and dwelling chiefly upon the two which he considers the\nmasterpieces of Russian iconography at that period, namely, the painting\nof the Annunciation and that of Our Lady of Vladimir. Besides these\ntwo principal paintings, Ouchakov left a quantity of others, most of\nwhich bear his name, with the date of their completion, although these\nindications are not needed, his pictures being easily recognizable. He\nmay, in fact, be considered as at the head of a new school of painting,\ntaking the middle line between the conventional Muscovite iconography\nand the paintings of the West; between the inanimate and rigid formalism\nof the one and the living variety of the other; and thus inaugurating\nthe new era in religious art which manifested itself in Russia with\nthe opening of the XVIIth century, and permitting the introduction of\na realism which the ancient iconographers were wholly ignorant of,\nand would have considered it detrimental to Oriental orthodoxy to\ncountenance. Ouchakov was ennobled, in honor of his talents, and died in\n1656, at the age of sixty, in the full enjoyment of public esteem.\n\nIn connection with the subject of art, we may add that M. Philimonov has\njust issued an elegant edition of the _Guide to Russian Iconography_,\nwhich teaches the correct manner in which to represent the saints. The\ntext of this work, which is for the first time published in Russian, has\nbeen furnished by three of the most ancient manuscripts known to exist,\none of which formerly belonged to the Church of S. Sophia of Novogorod.\nFully to comprehend the text, however, it is necessary to have together\nwith it, for constant reference, some pictorial guide, as, for instance,\nthe one published by M. Boutovski. The two works explain and complete\neach other, as both alike refer to about the same period; but, also, both\nshould be consulted in subordinate reference to the Greek _Guide_, if the\nreader is to be enabled to separate the Byzantine element from that which\nis specially characteristic of Russian iconography.\n\nIn connection with general literature mention must be made of the\nfabulist, Khemnitzer, whose complete works and correspondence have\nbeen edited by Grote, together with a biography, composed from\npreviously-unpublished sources. After the vast labor of editing the works\nof Derjavine, those of Khemnitzer would be in comparison a mere amusement\nto the learned and indefatigable academician.\n\nV. JOURNALS AND MEMOIRS.--The _Journal of Khrapovski_ (1782-1793),\npublished by M. Barsoukov, who has enriched it with a biographical notice\nand explanatory notes, appears for the first time in its integrity,\nand accompanied by a _catalogue raisonn\u00e9_ of all the personages who\nfind themselves mentioned in the text. This journal derives its special\ninterest and value from the position of the author, who for ten years\nwas attached to the _personal_ service of the Empress Catherine II.\n(_Charg\u00e9 des Affaires Personnelles_), and who, being thus admitted into\nthe interior and home-life of the court, noted down day by day, and\nsometimes hour by hour, all that he there saw or heard. This is certainly\nnot history; but an intelligent historian will sometimes find there, in a\nsentence spoken apparently at random, the germ of great political events\nwhich were accomplished later.\n\nThe _Journal of Lady Rondeau_, wife of the English resident-minister at\nthe court of the Empress Anne, is the first volume of foreign writers on\nthe Russia of the XVIIIth century, edited with notes by M. Choubinski.\nThe idea of publishing the accounts of foreigners on the Russian Empire\nmerits encouragement, and, if well carried out, will shed new light on\nnumberless points which an indigenous author would leave unnoticed, but\nwhich have a real interest in the eyes of a stranger. If it should be\nobjected that foreigners judge superficially and partially, it is none\nthe less true that the worth of their impressions arises precisely from\nthe diversity of country and point of view. Besides, all strangers could\nnot, without injustice, be alike charged with lightness and inexactitude.\nThe memoirs of Masson on the court of Catherine II. and of Paul I. are\nquoted by the Russians themselves as a striking proof to the contrary;\nno single fact which he mentions having been disproved by history. The\nmerit of Lady Rondeau\u2019s book is increased by the notice, in form of an\nappendix, which is added by her husband, on the character of each of the\nprincipal personages of the court.\n\nWe conclude this rapid and imperfect summary by mentioning the _Catalogue\nof the Section of Russica_, or writings upon Russia in foreign\nlanguages--a work of which the initiation is due to the administrators of\nthe Public Library of St. Petersburg, and forming two enormous volumes.\nTo give some idea of the riches accumulated in the section of _Russica_,\nperhaps unique in the world, and of which the formation commenced in\n1849, it will suffice to say that the number of works enumerated in the\ncatalogue reaches the figures 28,456, _without reckoning_ those composed\nin Lithuanian, Esthonian, Servian, Bulgarian, Greek, and other Oriental\nlanguages, which will together form a supplementary volume. Besides\noriginal works, the catalogue indicates all the translations of Russian\nbooks, and enumerates all the periodicals which have appeared in Russia\nin foreign languages.\n\nThe works are arranged in alphabetical order; but at the end of the\nsecond volume we find an analytical table, commencing with history, the\nhistorical portion being the most considerable one in the section of\n_Russica_. Thus the literary treasures possessed by the principal library\nof the empire are henceforward made known with regard to each branch of\nthe sciences in relation to Russia. If to this we add the _Systematic\nCatalogue_ of M. M\u00e9jov, mentioned above, we possess the historic\nliterature of Russia in its completeness.\n\n\nTHE FIRST JUBILEE.\n\nAlmighty God, who has \u201cordered all things in measure and _number_ and\nweight\u201d (Wisd. xi. 21), and who teaches us, under the guidance of his\nchurch, to observe sacred times and seasons, has brought around again the\nHoly Year of Jubilee, during which an extraordinary indulgence is granted\nby the Pope, that sinners being led to repentance, and the just increased\nin grace, each one can hear it said to himself: \u201cIn an _acceptable time_\nI have heard thee\u201d (Is. xlix. 8).\n\nWe will not touch here upon the nature or doctrine of indulgences,\nmore than to give a definition of our Jubilee, viz., a solemn plenary\nremission of such temporal punishment as may still be due to divine\njustice after the guilt of sin has been forgiven, which the Sovereign\nPontiff, in the fulness of apostolic power, makes at a stated period to\nall the faithful, on condition of performing certain specified pious\nworks; empowering confessors to absolve for the nonce in reserved cases\nand from censures not specially excepted, and to commute all vows not\nlikewise excepted into other salutary matter. Our Holy Father, Pius\nIX., by an Encyclical Letter dated from S. Peter\u2019s on the vigil of last\nChristmas, has announced that, the year 1875 completing the cycle of\ntime determined by his predecessors for the recurrence of the Jubilee,\nhe declares it the Holy Year, and sets forth the conditions of the same,\nwith other circumstances of ecclesiastical discipline usual on so rare an\noccasion of grace.\n\nThe origin of the word _jubilee_ itself is uncertain. It is a Hebrew\nterm that first occurs in the twenty-fifth chapter of Leviticus: \u201cAnd\nthou shalt sanctify the fiftieth year, \u2026 for it is the year of Jubilee.\u201d\nJosephus (_Antiquit._, iii. 11) says that it means _liberty_, by which\nhis annotators understand that discharge among the Jews from debts\nand bondage, and restitution to every man of his former property, as\ncommanded by the law. The more common opinion derives it from _jobel_,\na ram\u2019s horn, because the Jubilee year was ushered in by the blasts\nof the sacred trumpets, made of the horns of the ram. Pope Boniface\nVIII. is erroneously supposed by many to have instituted the Christian\nJubilee; for he only restored what had already existed, and reduced it\nsubstantially to its present form; inasmuch as there had been from an\nearly period a custom among Christians of visiting Rome at the turn of\nevery succeeding century, in the hope of obtaining great spiritual favors\nat the tomb of S. Peter, and perhaps also with the idea of atoning in\nsome measure for the superstitious secular games which during the reign\nof Augustus the _Quindecimviri_ (a college of priests) announced as\nhaving been given once in every century in memory of the foundation of\nthe Eternal City, and which, after consulting the Sibylline books in\ntheir care, they prevailed upon the emperor to celebrate again. Mgr.\nPompeo Sarnelli, Bishop of Bisceglie in 1692, treats of the secular year\nof the heathen Romans and the Jubilee of their Christian descendants\ntogether, as though one were in some respect a purified outgrowth of\nthe other. He says: \u201cBut the Christians, to change profane into sacred\nthings, were accustomed to go every hundredth year to visit the Vatican\nbasilica, and celebrate the memory of Christ, who was born for the\nredemption of the world; so that the Holy Year was the sanctification\nof the profane centenary in the lapse of time; but in its spiritual\nbenefits it perfected the effects of the Jubilee kept by the Jews every\nfiftieth year for temporal advantages\u201d (_Lettere Ecclesiast._, x. 50).\nMacri also, in his _Hiero-lexicon_ (1768), says: \u201cWe believe that the\npopes who have always endeavored (when the nature of the thing permitted)\nto alter the vain observances of the Gentiles into sacred ceremonies for\nthe worship of God, in order to eradicate the superstitious secular year\nof the Romans, established our Holy Year of Jubilee, and enriched it\nwith indulgences.\u201d Of the connection between our Jubilee and that of the\nJews Devoti (_Inst. Can._, ii. p. 250, note) remarks that their fiftieth\nyear \u201caliquo modo imago fuit Jubil\u00e6i, quem postea Romani Pontifices\ninstituerunt--\u201d was in some wise a figure of that Jubilee which, at a\nlater period, the Roman pontiffs instituted.\n\nBenedetto Gaetani of Anagni (Boniface VIII.) had been elected pope\nat Naples on Dec. 24, 1294, and was residing in Rome at the close of\nthe century, when he heard towards Christmas that many pilgrims were\napproaching the city, who came, they said, to gain the indulgence which\nan ancient tradition taught could be obtained there every hundredth\nyear, at the beginning of a new century. Although search was made in the\npontifical archives for some record of a concession of special indulgence\nat such a period, none was found; but witnesses of established veracity\nassured the pope that they had heard of this indulgence, and that it was\nconnected with a visit to the tomb of S. Peter.\n\nBrocchi in his _Storia del Giubbileo_, page 6, mentions among the\nvenerable persons examined before the pope and cardinals one man 107\nyears old, and another--a noble Savoyard--over 100 years old, who both\nmade deposition that as children they had been brought to Rome by their\nparents, who had often reminded them not to omit the pilgrimage of the\nnext century, if they should live so long. Two very aged Frenchmen\nfrom the Diocese of Beauvais also deposed to having come to Rome on\nthe strength of a like centennial tradition of which they had heard\ntheir fathers speak. The chronicler William Ventura of Asti (born in\n1250) writes that at the beginning of the year 1300 an immense crowd\nof pilgrims, coming to Rome from the East and from the West, used to\nthrong about the pope and cry out: \u201cGive us thy blessing before we die;\nfor we have learnt from our elders that all Christians who shall visit\non the hundredth year the basilica where rest the bones of the apostles\nPeter and Paul can obtain absolution of their sins and the remission\nof any penance that might still be due for them\u201d (apud Muratori, _Rer.\nItal. Script._, xi. 26). Boniface VIII. then called a consistory, and on\nthe advice of the cardinals determined to issue a bull confirming the\ngrant of indulgence, did such really exist; and in any case offering a\nplenary indulgence to all who, contrite, should confess their sins and\nvisit at least once a day for thirty days--not necessarily consecutive,\nif Romans; if strangers, only for fifteen days in the same manner--the\ntwo basilicas of the holy apostles SS. Peter and Paul during the course\nof the year 1300. This interesting bull, which is usually cited by its\nopening words, _Antiquorum habet fida relatio_, and may be seen in any\ncollection of canon law among the _Extravagantes Communes_ (lib. v.\nDe P\u0153n. et Rem., c. 1), is short and elegantly condensed--for which\nreason, perhaps, an old glossarist calls it \u201cepistola satis gross\u00e8\ncomposite\u201d--and, although written before the revival of Latin letters,\ncompares favorably with the verbose composition of later documents. It\nwas probably drawn up by Sylvester, the papal secretary, who is named\nas writer of the circular-letter sent in the pope\u2019s name to all bishops\nand Christian princes to acquaint them with the measure taken, and\ninvite them to exhort the faithful of their dioceses and their loyal\nsubjects to go on the pilgrimage Romeward. The pope published his bull\nhimself on the 22d of February, 1300, being the feast of S. Peter at\nAntioch, by reading it aloud from a richly-draped _ambon_ erected for the\noccasion before the high altar in S. Peter\u2019s, which had a very different\nappearance from the domed and cross-shaped structure that we now admire,\nas lovers of architectural elegance; for as antiquarians we must regret\nthe venerable building which was a _basilica_ in form as well as in name.\nWhen Boniface had finished, he descended, and went up in person to the\naltar to deposit upon it the bull of indulgence in homage to the Prince\nof the Apostles, whose successor he was, and not unworthily maintained\nhimself to be. Then returning to his former place, while the cardinals\nstood with bended head around it and beneath him, he gave his solemn\nblessing to an immense number of pilgrims, who, filling the church and\noverflowing into the square in front, reverentially knelt to receive it.\nTruly, the hearts of the people were with that man, although the hands\nof princes were against him. A most interesting memorial of this very\nscene has been preserved to us through sack and fire for nearly six\nhundred years in the shape of a painting by the celebrated Giotto--a\nportrait, too, and not a fancy sketch--which is the only portion saved\nof the beautiful frescos with which he ornamented the _loggia_ built by\nBoniface at S. John Lateran. It represents the pope in the act of giving\nhis benediction to the people between two cardinals (or, as some critics\nthink, two prelates), one of whom holds a document in his hand--evidently\nmeant for the bull of Jubilee by an artist\u2019s license, to specify more\ndistinctly the circumstance; for it was then actually on the altar--while\nthe other looks down upon the crowd over the hanging cloth on which the\nGaetani arms are emblazoned. This specimen of higher art of the XIVth\ncentury was for a long time preserved in the cloister of S. John, until\na representative of the Gaetani (now ducal) family had it carefully set\nup against one of the pilasters of the church, and protected with a glass\ncovering, in 1786, where it may still be seen, although it is not often\nnoticed according to its merits.\n\nOur chief authorities for the details of this Jubilee are the pope\u2019s\nnephew, James Cardinal Stefaneschi; the Chronicler of Asti (generally\nquoted as _Chronicon Astense_); and the Florentine merchant and Guelph\nhistorian, John Villani, who died of the plague in 1348. All were\neye-witnesses.\n\nThe cardinal wrote on the Jubilee in prose and verse. His work, _De\ncentesimo, seu Jubil\u00e6o anno Liber_, is published in the _Biblioth. Max.\nPatrum_, tom. xxv. He is the earliest writer to use the word _jubilee_,\nwhich is not found in the pope\u2019s bull, but must have been common at\nthe period, for others use it. A sententious specimen of the cardinal\ndeacon\u2019s prose style may be interesting; it contains a good sentiment,\nand is not bad Latin, although the German Gregorovius, in his _History\nof Rome in the Middle Ages_, speaks of \u201cdie barbarische Schrift des\nJacob Stefaneschi\u201d--\u201cthat barbarous opuscule of James Stefaneschi\u201d:\n\u201cBeatus populus qui scit Jubilationem; infelices vero qui torpore, vel\ntemeritate, dum alterius sibi forsan \u00e6vum Jubil\u00e6i spondent, neglexerint\u201d\n(cap. xv.)--\u201cBlessed is the people that profiteth by this season of\nremission; but unhappy are the slothful and presumptuous ones who,\npromising themselves another Jubilee, neglect it.\u201d His hexameters,\nhowever, are undoubtedly execrable; for instance:\n\n    \u201cDiscite, centeno detergi crimina Ph\u0153bo, (!)\n    Discite, si latebras scabrosi criminis ora\n    Depromunt, contrita sinu, dum circulus anni\n    Gyrat, perque dies quindenos exter, et Urbis\n    Incola tricenos delubra patentia Patrum\n    \u00c6therei Petri, Pauli quoque gentibus almi\n    Doctoris subeant, ubi congerit urna sepultos.\u201d\n\nCardinal James of the Title of S. George _in Velabro_ was one of the\nmost distinguished men of Rome; \u201cfamous,\u201d as Tiraboschi says (_Letterat.\nItal._, v. 517), \u201cnot less for his birth than for his learning.\u201d His\nmother was an Orsini. He died in 1343.\n\nAs soon as the grant of this great indulgence was noised abroad an\nextraordinarily large number of pilgrims set out from all parts of Italy,\nfrom Provence and France, from Spain, Germany, Hungary, and even from\nEngland, although not very many from that country, which was then at\nwar. They came of every age, sex, and condition: children led by the\nhand or carried in the arms, the infirm borne in litters, the knightly\nand those of more means on horseback, while not a few old people were\nseen, Anchises-like, supported on the shoulders of their sons. _The\nChronicle of Parma_ (quoted by Gregorovius, _Geschichte der Stadt Rom im\nMittelalter_, v. p. 549) says that \u201cevery day and at all hours there was\na sight as of a general army marching in and out by the Claudian Way,\u201d\nwhich brought the pilgrims into the city after joining the Flaminian Way\nat the gate now represented by the Porta del Popolo; and the Chronicler\nof Asti has to use the words of the Apocalypse to describe the throngs\nthat gathered about the roaring gates. \u201cI went out one day,\u201d he says,\nand \u201cI saw a great crowd which no man could number.\u201d The whole influx of\npilgrims, including men and women, during the year, was computed by the\nRomans at over two millions; while Villani, who was a careful observer,\nwrites that about thirty thousand people used to enter and leave the city\nevery day, there being at no time less than two hundred thousand within\nthe walls over and above the fixed population. But the pilgrimage was\nespecially one of the poor to the tomb of the Fisherman; and all writers\non it have remarked, in noticing the fervent enthusiasm of the common\npeople, the cold reserve and absence of their royal masters. Only the\nFrenchman Charles Martel, titular King of Hungary, came; it is presumable\nmore to obtain the pope\u2019s good-will in the dispute about the succession\nto the throne than from piety. The nearest approach to royalty after him\nwas Charles of Valois, who came accompanied by his family and a courtly\nretinue of five hundred knights, and doubtless hoped to receive the crown\nof Sicily from Boniface, if he could expel the usurping Aragonese.\n\nSo many thousands of pilgrims, citizens and strangers, went day and\nnight to S. Peter\u2019s that not a few were maimed, and some even trampled\nto death, in the struggling crowd of goers and comers that met at the\ncrossing of the Tiber over the old \u00c6lian bridge leading to the Leonine\ncity. To obviate such disasters in future, the wide bridge was divided\nlengthwise by a strong wooden railing, thus forming two passages, of\nwhich the advancing and returning pilgrims took respectively the one\non their right. The poet Dante, who is strongly supposed to have been\nin Rome for the Jubilee, although there is no proof either in the\n_Divine Comedy_ or the _Vita Nuova_ that he was, may have written as an\neye-witness when he describes this very scene of the passing but not\nmingling streams of human beings in the well-known lines:\n\n    \u201cCome i Roman, per l\u2019esercito molto,\n      L\u2019anno del giubbileo, su per lo ponte\n      Hanno a passar la gente modo tolto;\n    Che dall\u2019 un lato tutti hanno la fronte\n      Verso\u2019l castello, e vanno a Santo Pietro--\n      Dall\u2019 altra sponda vanno verso\u2019l monte.\u201d[84]\n\n    --_Inferno_, xviii.\n\nThe castle here mentioned is, of course, Sant\u2019 Angelo; and the hill is\nprobably Monte Giordano, in the heart of the city, which, although, from\nthe grading of the surrounding streets, is now only a gentle rise graced\nby the Gabrielli palace, was a high and strongly-fortified position in\nthe XIVth century. Among all the relics seen by the pilgrims in Rome,\nthe Holy Face of our Lord, or Cloth of Veronica, which is preserved\nwith so much veneration in S. Peter\u2019s, seems to have attracted the most\nattention. By order of the pope it was solemnly shown to the people\non every Friday and on all the principal feasts throughout the year of\nJubilee. The great Tuscan has also sung of this, which he possibly saw\nhimself:\n\n    \u201cQuale \u00e8 colui che forse di Croazia\n      Viene a veder la Veronica nostra,\n      Che per l\u2019antica fama non si sazia,\n    Ma dice nel pensier, fin che si mostra;\n      Signor mio Ges\u00f9 Cristo, Dio verace,\n      Or fu s\u00ec fatta la sembianza vostra?\u201d[85]\n\n    --_Paradiso_, xxxi.\n\nA modern economist might wonder how a famine was to be averted, with\nsuch a sudden and numerous addition to the population of the city. The\nforesight of the energetic pope, whose family also was influential in\nthe very garden of the Campagna, among those hardy laborers of whom\nVirgil sung, \u201cQuos dives Anagnia pascit,\u201d had early in the year caused\nan immense supply of grain, oats, meat, fish, wine, and other sorts\nof provision for man and beast to be collected from every quarter and\nbrought into the city, where it was stored and guarded against the\ncoming of the pilgrims. The provisions were abundant and cheap. The\nChronicler of Asti, it is true, complains of the dearness of the hay or\nfodder for his horse; but as he thought _tornesium unum grossum_ (equal\nto six cents of our money) too high for his own daily lodging and his\nhorse\u2019s stabling, without bait, we must think either that the means\nof living in Italy in those days were incredibly low, or that Ventura\nwas very parsimonious. It is the testimony of all the writers on this\nJubilee that, except an inundation of the Tiber, which threatened for a\nfew days to cut off the train of supplies for the city, everything was\npropitious to the comfort and piety of the faithful. The roads through\nItaly leading to Rome were safe, at least to the pilgrims, to whom a\ngeneral safe-conduct was given by the various little republics and\nprincipalities of the Peninsula; and if the Romans did grow rich off of\nthe strangers, there was good-humor on both sides, and not the slightest\ncollision. Indeed, the Romans (who perhaps gained the Jubilee before the\ngreat body of the pilgrims had arrived; at least we know that those out\nof the northern parts of Europe timed their departure from home so as to\navoid the sweltering southern heat) seem to have shown some indifference\nto the spiritual favors offered; as Gregorovius--who, however, is\nanti-papal--with a quiet sarcasm says: \u201cThey left the pilgrims to pray\nat the altars, while they marched with flaunting banners against the\nneighboring city of Toscanella\u201d; and Galletti, in his _Roman Medi\u00e6val\nInscriptions_ (tom. ii. p. 4), has published a curious old one on this\nmartial event, the original of which is now encased in one of the inside\nwalls of the Palazzo dei Conservatori (this name may have been changed\nby the present usurpers) on the Capitoline hill, where it was set up\nunder Clement X. in 1673. As it is most interesting for its synchronism\nwith the first Jubilee, and the insight it gives us into the mixed sort\nof fines imposed by the descendants of the conquerors of the world upon\na subjugated people in the middle ages--bags of wheat, a bell, the city\ngates, eight lusty fellows to dance while their masters piped, and a\ngentle hint that there was _no salt sown_--we think it might well appear\n(doubtless for the first time) in an American periodical. The original\nbeing in the abbreviated style of the XIVth century, we have modernized\nit to make it more intelligible to the reader:\n\n    \u201cMille trecentenis Domini currentibus annis\n    Papa Bonifacius octavus in orbe vigebat\n    Tunc Aniballensis Riccardus de Coliseo\n    Nec non Gentilis Ursina prole creatus\n    Ambo senatores Romam cum pace regebant\n    Per quos jam pridem tu Tuscanella fuisti\n    Ob dirum damnata nefas, tibi dempta potestas\n    Sumendi regimen est, at data juribus Urbis\n    Frumenti rubla bis millia ferre coegit\n    Annua te Roma vel libras solvere mille\n    Cum Deus attulerit Romanis fertilitatem\n    Campanam populi, portas deducere Romam\n    Octo ludentes Romanis mittere ludis--\n    Majori p\u0153na populi pietate remissa.\n    Sunt quoque communis servata palatia Rom\u00e6\n    Dummodo certe ruant turresque palatia muri\n    Si rursus furere tentent fortassis in Urbem\n    Vel jam prolata nolint decreta tenere\n    In \u00e6de reponatur sacra pro tempore guerr\u00e6\n    Tempore vel caro servanda pecunia prorsus.\u201d\n\nThe meaning of the tenth, eleventh, and twelfth lines is that, since\nthe Romans have land enough to give them their daily bread, but do not\nobject to any amount of _quattrim_ (coin), if the vanquished should\nprefer, they may pay once for all a thousand pounds in money, instead of\nthe annual tribute of two thousand sacks of grain--with freight charges\nto destination; and the last lines signify that a sum is laid up in the\nchapel to be used to carry on another war if the Tuscanellans should\nagain machinate against the City--as Rome was proudly called--or refuse\nto fulfil the stipulations.\n\nThe pilgrims of the Jubilee generally made a small offering at the altars\nof the two basilicas, although no alms were required as a condition of\ngaining the indulgence; and it is particularly from a _na\u00efve_ passage of\none of them in his valuable chronicle that Protestants and Voltaireans\nhave taken occasion to deride the Jubilees as mere money-making affairs;\nand even the Catholic Muratori (_Antichit\u00e0 Italiane_, tom. iii. part ii.\np. 156) carps at the inimitable description of so Romanesque a scene as\nthat of two chatting clerics raking in the oblations of the _forestieri_;\nbut Cenni, the annotator of this great work of the Modenese historian\nin the Roman edition of 1755, which we use, aptly remarks here that if\nwriters will look only at the bad side of the many and almost innumerable\nevents that have occurred in this low world of ours, and illogically\nconclude from a particular to the universal, they will discover that art\nof putting things whereby what has generally been considered good and\nlaudable will appear thereafter worthy only of censure. The Chronicler\nof Asti, certainly with no great thought of what people would think five\nhundred years after he was mouldering in his grave, simply writes of the\npilgrims\u2019 donations: \u201cPapa innumerabilem pecuniam ab eisdem recepit, quia\ndie ac nocte duo clerici stabant ad altare sancti Petri, tenentes in\neorum manibus rastellos rastellantes pecuniam infinitam.\u201d\n\nAlthough we believe that the honest Chronicler of Asti deserves credit\nfor taking notes at the Jubilee, yet this very passage, read in\nconnection with the other one about the dearness of his living, shows us\nthat he was one of those pious but penurious souls who, if he had lived\nin our day, and a gentleman called on him for a subscription, would beg\nto be permitted to wait until the list got down very low. The Protestant\nGregorovius has shown that these exaggerated offerings \u201cwere for the most\npart only small coin, the gift of common pilgrims\u201d; while the Catholic\nVon Reumont (_Geschichte der Stadt Rom_, vol. ii. p. 650) has calculated\nthat this \u201cinfinite amount of money\u201d was only after all equal to about\ntwo hundred and forty thousand Prussian thalers, which would make no more\nthan one hundred and seventy-five thousand, two hundred dollars. When the\npope knew how generous were the offerings of the faithful, he ordered the\nentire sum to be expended on the two basilicas, in buying property to\nsupport the chapter of the one and the monastery attached to the other,\nand in those thousand and more other expenses which only those who have\nlived in Rome can understand to be necessary to support the majesty of\ndivine worship within such edifices. Surely, it was better, in any case,\nthat the money of the pilgrims should go for the glory of the saints\nand the embellishment of God\u2019s temples than be exacted at home by cruel\nbarons and ruthless princes to carry on their petty wars or strengthen\ntheir castles.\n\nMr. Hemans (no friend to our Rome), in his _Medi\u00e6val Christianity and\nSacred Art_ (vol. i. p. 474), says, after mentioning these \u201cheaps of\ncoins\u201d: \u201cIf much of this went into the papal treasury, it is manifest\nthat the expenditure from that source for the charities exercised\nthroughout this holy season must also have been great.\u201d This is a lame\nstatement; because, although on the one hand the large subventions of the\npope to the poor pilgrims are certain, on the other there is no proof\nwhatever that _any_ alms they gave went into his \u201ctreasury.\u201d The pope,\nindeed, having at heart the comfort of the strangers and the beauty of\nthe city, put up many new buildings and made other improvements, such as\nthe beautiful Gothic _loggia_ of S. John of Lateran, which the greatest\npainter of the age was commissioned to decorate with frescos (Papencordt,\n_Rom im Mittelalter_, p. 336). It is perhaps from a traditionary\nknowledge of these architectural propensities of the pope during the\nJubilee year, and of his endowments to the basilicas, that so many\npeople have quite erroneously believed the sombre but picturesque old\nfarm-buildings of Castel Giubileo, which crown the green and lonely hill\nwhere more than two thousand years ago the Arx of Fiden\u00e6 stood a rival\nto the Capitol of Rome, to be a memorial of, and to get its designation\nfrom, this Jubilee of A.D. 1300. Even Sir Wm. Gell (_Top. of Rome_, p.\n552) repeats the old story. But the more careful Nibby (_Dintorni di\nRoma_, vol. ii. p. 58) has demonstrated, with the aid of a document in\nthe archives of the Vatican basilica, that the name of this place between\nthe Via Salaria and the Tiber, five miles from Rome, is derived from that\nof a Roman family which acquired the site (previously called Monte Sant\u2019\nAngelo) and built the castle in the XIVth century; and that it did not\ncome into the possession of the chapter of S. Peter until the 16th of\nDecember, 1458, when it was bought for the sum of three thousand golden\nducats. So much for an instance of jumping at conclusions from a mere\nsimilarity of name, put together with something else, which is so common\na fault of antiquaries.\n\n\nGREVILLE AND SAINT-SIMON.\n\nMr. Charles Greville was not a La Bruy\u00e8re,[86] but, as he appears in\nhis _Memoirs_, he might have sat very well for that portrait of Arrias\nwhich the inimitable imitator of Theophrastus has drawn in his chapter\non society and conversation: \u201cArrias has read everything, has seen\neverything; at least he would have it thought so. \u2019Tis a man of universal\nknowledge, and he gives himself out as such; he would sooner lie than\nbe silent or appear ignorant of anything.\u2026 If he tells a story, it is\nless to inform those who listen than to have the merit of telling it.\nIt becomes a romance in his hands; he makes people think after his own\nmanner; he puts his own habits of speaking in their mouths; and, in fine,\nmakes them all as talkative as himself. What would become of him and of\nthem, if happily some one did not come in to break up the circle and\ncontradict the whole story?\u201d\n\nThis exact picture of the late clerk of H.B.M. Privy Council might have\nbeen written the morning after his _Memoirs_ appeared in the London\nbookstores, instead of nearly two hundred years ago. It is at once a\nproof of the penetrating genius of La Bruy\u00e8re, and a photograph every one\nwill recognize of the author of the journal which has lately made so much\nnoise in society. This clever Newmarket jockey--_rebus Newmarketianis\nversatus_, as he says of himself--to whom every point of the betting book\nis familiar, carelessly refreshes his jaded intellect with the _Life\nof Mackintosh_, as he rides down in his carriage to the races. With\naffable profusion he scatters broadcast to the mob of readers scraps of\nHorace and Ovid, mingled with the latest odds on the Derby. He has seen\neverything from S. Giles\u2019s to S. Peter\u2019s, and, with the _blas\u00e9_ air of a\nman at once of genius and fashion, proclaims \u201cthere is nothing in it.\u201d He\nknows everything, from the most questionable scandal of the green-room to\nthe best plan of forming a cabinet; such second-rate men as Melbourne,\nPalmerston, and Stanley he sniffs at with easy disdain; and if at times\nhe gently bemoans a few personal deficiencies, it is with a complacent\nconviction that it needed only a little early training to have made him a\nPeel, a Burke, or a Chatham! That he would \u201csooner lie than be silent,\u201d\none needs only remember his infamous stories about Mrs. Charles Kean and\nLady Burghersh; his calumnies against George IV. and William IV.--the\nmasters whose gracious kindness he repaid by bribing their _valets_\nfor evidence against them--his unfounded attacks upon Peel, Stanley,\nO\u2019Connell, and Lyndhurst; his slanders even against obscure men, like\nWakley and others. As to his habit of \u201cmaking people think after his own\nmanner,\u201d and putting \u201chis own mode of speaking in their mouths,\u201d the\nprofanity and vulgarity which disfigure his pages are the best evidence.\n\nThat this is a true estimate of the merits of _The Greville Memoirs_\nis now generally admitted. The most respectable critical exponents of\nEnglish opinion have united in condemning the bad taste and breach of\ntrust which made either their composition or publication possible. It\nneeds no refinement of reasoning to prove that the expressions everywhere\nso freely quoted from this journal are such as could not honorably be\nuttered by any gentleman holding the office Mr. Greville did. Readers\nwill easily be found for them, either from a love of sensation or because\nof the illustration they offer of the character of the persons described\nor the writer; but nothing can condone their real offensiveness. Such,\nhowever, was far from being the first opinion of the press. The leading\nEnglish journal, in two lengthy reviews such as rarely appear in its\ncolumns, handled Mr. Greville\u2019s work with a delicacy, an admiration,\na regretful and half-tender daintiness of touch for the author, that\npromised everything to the reader. This criticism was followed by a\ngeneral outburst of applause on the part of the press, which soon began\nto waver, however, when it was found that the best section of English\nsociety regarded the book with disapproval.\n\nSo conscious, indeed, were the American publishers of its intrinsic\nlack of interest or literary merit that one firm has presented it to\nthe public with nearly all the political portions left out and the\nprivate gossip retained. \u201cIt is said,\u201d says the _Saturday Review_ not\nlong ago, \u201cthat an American compiler has published a pleasant duodecimo\nvolume containing only those passages which may be supposed to gratify a\nmorbid taste.\u201d The London critic intended, no doubt, to be pungent and\nsatirical; but how innocuously does such satire fall upon the head of the\naverage \u201ccompiler\u201d!\n\nIf Mr. Greville has not made good his claim to stand among the masters\nof his craft, least of all is he to be named in the same day with the\nprince of memoir-writers--Saint-Simon; unless, indeed, it be to point\nthe moral that more is needed for excellency in such an art than an\ninquisitive mind and a biting pen. Yet Mr. Greville\u2019s opportunity was\ngreat--greater, probably, than will happen to any other memoir-writer for\nsome generations to come. Like Saint-Simon, he began active life in an\nage of great events and great men. Whatever may be said of the pettiness\nof the regency, of its profligacy and mock brilliancy, no one can forget\nthat those were days of great perils; of vast struggles, military and\ncivil; of giants\u2019 wars, and of a race of combatants not unworthy to take\npart in them. Nor were the twenty years succeeding--which make up, as\nwe may roughly say, that portion of his journal now printed--wanting\nin great interests and momentous events. The age which gave birth to\nCatholic Emancipation and the Reform Bill, while it still numbered\namong its chiefs the veterans of the great Continental war, could not\nfail to offer subjects for treatment that would be read eagerly by all\nsucceeding times. If Saint-Simon witnessed the culmination of the glories\nof the reign of Louis XIV., and saw De Luxembourg and Catinat, the last\nsurvivors of that line of victorious marshals beginning with the great\nCond\u00e9 and Turenne, who had carried the lilies of France over Europe,\nnot less was it Greville\u2019s fortune to converse familiarly with the great\nduke who, repeating the triumphs of Marlborough, had beaten down the arms\nof the empire in a later age. And if Saint-Simon lived also to see the\ndisasters, the weakness, the desolation, and bankruptcy of his country\nwhich succeeded the long splendor of his youth, Greville too looked on as\na spectator, almost, one might say, as a registrar, at the hardly less\nterrible civil struggles and social depression which threatened to rend\nthe kingdom asunder.\n\nBoth were of noble families, although the Duc de Saint-Simon was the head\nof his house, and Mr. Greville only a cadet of his. Both were courtiers;\nand although Saint-Simon\u2019s position as a peer of France lifted him far\nabove Greville\u2019s in his day, who was rather a paid servant of the crown\nthan strictly a courtier, yet the very office of the latter gave him\nadvantages which the elder memoir-writer did not always possess. Here,\nhowever, all parallel ceases. The radical incapacity of Mr. Greville\u2019s\nmind to lift him above the common race of diarists prevents all further\ncomparison. He had neither the genius of assimilation nor description\nto make the portraits of men and manners live, like Saint-Simon\u2019s, in\nthe gallery of history. His informants are _valets_, his satire mere\nbackbiting, his reflections trivial, his descriptions a confused mass of\npetty details.\n\nIt is not proposed here to weary the reader with long quotations from a\nwork which so many already have read or skimmed over. Nor do we intend,\non the other hand, to follow the fashion of some critics, and carefully\ngather up all the points which might be woven into an indictment against\nMr. Greville\u2019s honor or candor or wit. Such a task would be endless; it\nwould take in almost every other page of his volumes. But that it may be\nseen that the unfavorable opinion which, after a careful examination, we\nhave been led--much to our disappointment--to entertain of his work is\nnot misplaced, we shall proceed to give some passages that sustain, in\nour judgment, the correctness of the view we have taken.\n\nCharles C. F. Greville was, as his editor, Mr. H. Reeve, informs us, the\neldest son of Mr. Charles Greville, grandson of the Earl of Warwick,\nand Lady Charlotte Bentinck, daughter of the Duke of Portland. He was\nborn in 1794. At the age of nineteen he was appointed private secretary\nby Earl Bathurst, and almost at the same time family influence procured\nfor him a clerkship in the Board of Trade. Both offices had comfortable\nsalaries attached to them; neither of them any duties. Thus at the outset\nof his career, fortunate in his family influence and his friends, Mr.\nGreville was started, fairly equipped, on the road of life. Unencumbered\nby any responsibility, nor weighed down by that sharp and bitter load\nof poverty that men of humbler birth have commonly to carry on their\ngalled shoulders, while they strive to gain an insecure foothold on\nthe slippery road to fame or fortune, he had every incentive and every\nadvantage to secure success. A subject for thanksgiving, shall we say, to\nthis accomplished sinecurist? By no means! Years afterwards he bemoans\nthe fact that he had nothing to do, no spur to honorable ambition. He\nforgot that at the same or an earlier age Saint-Simon, whom he appears\nto have read only to copy his sometimes coarse language, was handling\na pike as a volunteer in the service of his king, and carrying sacks\nof grain on his shoulders to the starving troops in the trenches at\nNamur, disdaining those little offices into which Greville insinuated\nhimself as soon as he left college. Or if it be said--what no man could\nthen (1812) predict--that the war was nearly over, and there was little\nprospect of another, what was there to prevent him from seeking a place\nin Parliament--not hard to gain with his family influence--and there\ncarving out for himself a place like that of Burke, to whom he sometimes\nlifts his eyes? The truth is, to use a vulgar phrase, Mr. Greville had\n\u201cother fish to fry.\u201d He knew well he had other easier and more profitable\ngame to follow. He was scarcely of age when the influence of his uncle,\nthe Duke of Portland, obtained for him the sinecure office of Secretary\nof Jamaica, a deputy being allowed to reside in the island; better still,\nthe same influential relative secured him the reversion of the clerkship\nof the Council! Henceforward not the camp nor parliamentary struggles\noccupied Mr. Greville\u2019s mind; the glorious task of \u201cwaiting for a dead\nman\u2019s shoes,\u201d varied by the congenial study of the stables, occupied that\npowerful intellect which, in these _Memoirs_, looks down with contempt\non all the names most distinguished in European statesmanship during\nthe first half of this century. The office fell to him in 1821, and he\ncontinued to hold it for nearly forty years. The net income of the two\noffices, we are elsewhere informed, amounted to about four thousand\npounds; and as he died worth thirty thousand pounds, the charitable\nsupposition of the _Quarterly Review_ is that \u201cprobably he was a gainer\non the turf.\u201d He died in 1865.\n\nThe bent of Mr. Greville\u2019s genius was early shown.\n\n    \u201cSunt quos curriculo pulverem Olympicum\n    Collegisse juvat.\u201d\n\nThe clerk of the Council was one of them. The blue ribbon of the turf,\nnot parliamentary honors or the long vigil of laborious nights--except\nover the card-table--was the centre around which his ambition and\naspirations circled. Early smitten by the betting fever, he became as\nnearly a professional turfman as the security of his office would permit;\nand there is something ludicrous in those expressions of regret, which\nhave drawn such tender sympathy from his critics, that he gave himself up\nto the passion instead of becoming the scholar or statesman he is always\nhinting he might have been. Mr. Greville, in fact, makes the blunder of\nsupposing that the craving for fame is equivalent to the faculty for\nwinning it. Not the turf, but original defect of capacity, hindered him\nfrom being more than he was--a clerk with a taste for gambling, held\nin check by a shrewd eye for the odds. His contemporary, the late Lord\nDerby, whom he seldom lets pass without a sneer in these _Memoirs_, was\nan example showing that, had true genius existed, a taste for the turf\nwithout participation in gambling, need not have prevented him from\nbecoming both an accomplished scholar and a brilliant statesman.\n\nAn early entry in Mr. Greville\u2019s journal gives the measure of the man.\nUnder date of February 23, 1821, he says:\n\n\u201cYesterday the Duke of York proposed to me to take the management of his\nhorses, which I accepted. Nothing could be more kind than the manner in\nwhich he proposed it.\u201d\n\n\u201cMarch 5.--I have experienced a great proof of the vanity of human\nwishes. In the course of three weeks I have attained the three things I\nhave most desired in the world for years past, and upon the whole I do\nnot feel that my happiness is increased.\u201d\n\nThis is a good example, but far from the best of its kind, of that vein\nof apparently philosophical reflection running here and there through his\njournal, with which Mr. Greville deliberately intended, we believe, to\nhoodwink the critics, and in which anticipation he has been wonderfully\nsuccessful. Coolly examined, it resolves itself as nearly as possible\ninto a burlesque. His reflections, as La Bruy\u00e8re says elsewhere of a like\ngenius, \u201care generally about two inches deep, and then you come to the\nmud and gravel.\u201d What were the three highest objects of human ambition in\nthe mind of this ardent young man of twenty-seven, with the world before\nhim to choose from? 1st. A berth in the civil service to creep into for\nthe rest of his life. 2d. The place of head jockey and trainer in the\nprince\u2019s stables. 3d. Unknown.\n\nAlas! poor Greville, that the bubble of life should have burst so soon,\nleaving thee flat on thy back in a barren world, after having thus airily\nmounted to such imperial heights! Had either Juvenal or Johnson known thy\ntowering ambition and thy fall, he would have placed thee side by side\nwith dire Hannibal or the venturous Swede \u201cto point a moral or adorn a\ntale\u201d!\n\nIt is wonderful, however, how easily the diarist lays aside his\nphilosophic tone to take up the more congenial _r\u00f4le_ of a spy upon the\nkings whose names are so ostentatiously displayed on his title-page, and\nfrom whose service alone he derived all the consideration he had.\n\nOn January 12, 1829, Lord Mount Charles comes to him for some\ninformation. Thereupon, under the guise of friendship and confidence,\nhe avows with a curious shamelessness that he proceeded to interrogate\nhis visitor about George IV.\u2019s private life and habits. When he has got\nall he wants out of the unsuspecting Mount Charles, he sets it down in\nhis journal and winds up with this reflection, everywhere quoted: \u201cA\nmore contemptible, cowardly, selfish, unfeeling dog does not exist than\nthis king.\u201d These were strong words to apply to a sovereign whose bread\nhe was eating, and who had always personally treated him with marked\nconfidence and kindness. Perhaps those who read Mr. Greville\u2019s journal\nwith attention, and note the slow portrait he therein unconsciously draws\nof himself, will be better able to judge where the terms more aptly\napply. As a work of art, indeed, the journalist\u2019s picture of himself is\nfar superior to anything else in his book. Touch by touch he elaborates\nhis own character. It is not a flattering one; it was never revealed to\nthe artist. How pitiably does this coarse generalization of Greville\u2019s\ncompare with the fine but vigorous and indelible strokes of Saint-Simon\u2019s\npencil in his portrait of Louis XIV.! It is not a character, but a gross\nand clumsy invective.\n\nBut Mr. Greville had already plumbed a lower depth of baseness in his\nprurient eagerness for details.\n\nAugust 29, 1828.--\u201cI met Bachelor, the poor Duke of York\u2019s old servant,\nand now the king\u2019s _valet de chambre_, and he told me some curious things\nabout the interior of the palace. But he is coming to call on me, and I\nwill write down what he tells me then.\u201d On the 16th of September he sent\nfor Bachelor, and had a long conversation with him, drawing out all he\ncould from the valet about his master\u2019s habits.\n\nMay 13, 1829.--\u201cBachelor called again, telling me all sorts of details\nconcerning Windsor and St. James.\u201d\n\nWhat a picture for the author of Gil Blas! It reminds one of some of\nthose Spanish interiors the novelist has so deftly painted, where valet\nand adventurer put their heads together, scheming how best to open some\nrich don\u2019s purse-strings, or ensnare his confidence before beginning some\nvillanous game at his expense. If these be the springs of history, Clio\ndefend us against her modern sister!\n\nWhat makes all this prying the more indefensible is that Mr. Greville was\nwithout need of it even for the composition of these _Memoirs_. Elsewhere\nhe boasts of the \u201cgreat men\u201d he has known. And it is true that he knew\nthem; and had his ability equalled his opportunity, enough sources of\ninformation were honorably open to him to have made his journal valuable\nand interesting. But the truth is, Mr. Greville loved to dabble in dirty\nwaters, as he has elsewhere plainly shown in his book.\n\nA large part of these volumes--the major part of them, indeed--is taken\nup with political gossip. It would not be correct to give it any higher\ntitle. Its weight as a contribution to history, to use La Bruy\u00e8re\u2019s\nillustration, would be about two ounces. It consists chiefly of what he\ngathered at the council-table. But disloyal as this tampering with his\noath may have been, his singular inaptitude to gather what was really\nimportant hardly offers even the poor excuse of interesting his readers\nin its results. The consideration of the eccentricities and sarcasms of\nhis _b\u00eate noir_, the chancellor (Lord Brougham), during a large portion\nof the time covered by this journal, generally puts to flight in Mr.\nGreville\u2019s mind all other topics. The rest of his political reminiscences\nare made up of conversations with the actors in the parliamentary scenes\nhere presented; but even these lose the greater part of their value from\nhis inveterate habit of confounding his own opinions and language with\nthose of the person he happens to be \u201cinterviewing.\u201d This confusion in\nMr. Greville\u2019s mind between what he thought and said and what others\nthought and said has been fully exposed by the numerous letters which\nhave been drawn forth in England from the survivors of the persons named\nin his _Memoirs_ or from their friends. Mr. Greville adds very little to\nour knowledge of the events of the period he treats of. Nearly everything\nof importance in his journal has been anticipated. The correspondence of\nWilliam IV. and Lord Grey, the life and despatches of Wellington, and the\nlives of Denman, Palmerston, and others, have left little to be supplied\nof this era of English history.\n\nOne of the most curious features--we might almost say the distinguishing\nfeature--in a work full of curious traits of levity, conceit, and\nimmature judgment, is the universal tone of depreciation in which the\nauthor speaks of the men of his acquaintance. This is not confined to\nordinary personages who lived and died obscure, but embraces, as we\nhave heretofore said, a large number of the names most illustrious in\nstatesmanship and diplomacy in his times. Lord Althorpe, Melbourne, the\nlate Earl Derby, Graham, Palmerston, O\u2019Connell, Guizot, Thiers--one\nscarcely picks out a single name of eminence that he has not attempted to\nbelittle. His opinions and prophecies have been in every instance flatly\ncontradicted by events. Of Palmerston especially--of his stupidity, his\nignorance, his lightness, his general want of capacity, and the certainty\nthat he would never rise to be anybody--he is never done speaking\nslightingly. It is true that the late English premier passed through many\nyears of obscurity in office, making, perhaps, some sort of excuse for\nMr. Greville\u2019s blindness; but this example is not an isolated one. The\nlate Lord Derby comes in for an almost equal share of it, although he is\nallowed the possession of some brains--a claim denied to his after-rival.\nMr. Greville is equally impartial in discoursing about crowned heads\nand plain republicans. His neat and finely-pointed satire stigmatized\nthe king whose paid servant he was as a \u201cblackguard,\u201d a \u201cdog,\u201d and a\n\u201cbuffoon\u201d; and he held his nose, as in the case of Washington Irving, did\nany \u201cvulgar\u201d American democrat come \u201cbetween the wind and his nobility.\u201d\n\nThose of Mr. Greville\u2019s subjects who have virtues are imbeciles; those\nwho have talent are adventurers or knaves. He appears to have centred\nall the admiration of which he was capable upon Lord de Ros, a young\nnobleman absolutely unknown outside a small English circle. Mr. Greville\nseems, in fact, to have been one of those men who seek, and sometimes\ngain, a certain reputation for sagacity by depreciating everybody around\nthem. Of the late Lord Derby he says: \u201cHe (Stanley) must be content with\na subordinate part, and act with whom he may, he will never inspire real\nconfidence or conciliate real esteem.\u201d In another place, in summing up a\nconversation with Peel, he accuses him (Stanley), by direct implication,\nof being \u201ca liar and a coward,\u201d although he puts these ugly words in\nanother\u2019s mouth. How far these predictions and this estimate were just\nhistory has already decided. High and low all dance to the same music\nin Mr. Greville\u2019s journal. On September 10, 1833, speaking of a speech\nof William IV.--not very wise, perhaps, but natural enough under the\ncircumstances--he says: \u201cIf he (William IV.) was not such an ass that\nnobody does anything but laugh at what he says, this would be important.\nSuch as it is, it is nothing.\u201d\n\nThe circumstances that influenced his pique are sometimes of the most\ntrivial character. Under date September 3, 1833, he notes that the king\ncomplained that no one was present to administer the oath to a new\nmember of the Privy Council whom Brougham had introduced. \u201cAnd what is\nunpleasant,\u201d he says, \u201cthe king desires a clerk of the council to be\npresent when anything is going on.\u201d _Inde ir\u00e6._ A few days afterwards, in\na notice of the prorogation of Parliament, he thus revenges himself for\nthe king\u2019s implied censure:\n\n\u201cHe (William IV.) was coolly received; for there is no doubt there\nnever was a king less respected. George IV., with all his occasional\npopularity, could always revive the external appearance of loyalty when\nhe gave himself the trouble.\u201d Thus one master, who was a \u201cdog,\u201d is made\nto do duty on occasion against an other who was an \u201cass.\u201d But this is not\nall he has to say of the same monarch. At page 520, vol. ii., summing up\nhis character after his death, he says:\n\n\u201cAfter his (William IV.\u2019s) accession he always continued to be something\nof a blackguard and something more of a buffoon. It is but fair to his\nmemory at the same time to say that he was a good-natured, kind-hearted,\nand well-meaning man, and that he always acted an honorable and\nstraightforward, if not always a sound and discreet, part.\u201d\n\nThat this statement, that \u201cnever was there a king less respected,\u201d\nwas false, it needs hardly the popular verdict about William IV. to\nprove. Mr. Greville contradicts himself on page 251 of the same volume,\nwhere he notes the \u201cstrong expressions of personal regard and esteem\u201d\nentertained for the king by such competent witnesses as two of his\nministers, Wellington and Lord Grey. Even their testimony is not needed.\nWhatever may have been William IV.\u2019s private weakness and foibles, the\nregret felt for him was general, and the esteem for his character as a\npopular sovereign publicly expressed. In any case, the indecency in Mr.\nGreville\u2019s mouth of the expressions he makes use of is too plain to need\nargument. Speaking, in one place, of Lord Brougham and referring to the\nchancellor\u2019s habit of sarcasm, he says:\n\n\u201cHe reminds me of the man in _Jonathan Wild_ who couldn\u2019t keep his hand\nout of his neighbor\u2019s pocket, although there was nothing in it, nor\nrefrain from cheating at cards, although there were no stakes on the\ntable.\u201d\n\nThis description is true enough, in another sense, of Mr. Greville\nhimself. A Sir Fretful Plagiary, he could see no man succeed without\ncarping at him, nor resist criticising another\u2019s performance for the sole\nreason that he had no hand in it. Noting the appearance of a political\nletter by Lord Redesdale, he says: \u201cThere is very little in it.\u201d This\nsingle phrase gives the key to his character and the tone of his journal.\nAt page 69, vol. ii., he sums up the whole subject of Irish national\neducation in the profoundly-disgusted remark that there is nothing more\nin it than \u201cwhether the brats at school shall read the whole Bible or\nonly parts of it.\u201d\n\nPage 105, vol. ii.: \u201cO\u2019Connell is supposed to be horribly afraid of the\ncholera.\u201d \u201cHe dodges between London and Dublin\u201d to avoid it, \u201cshuns\nthe House of Commons,\u201d and neglects his duties. On pages 414-15: \u201cHe\n(O\u2019Connell) is an object of execration to all those who cherish the\nprinciples and feelings of honor\u201d--a high-toned remark, coming from a\nman of such delicate honor that, according to his own confession, he had\nno scruple in greasing the palm of a king\u2019s valet for the secrets of his\nmaster\u2019s bed-chamber; who avows without a blush that he deliberately led\nLord Mount Charles, and Lord Adolphus Fitzclarence into confidences he\nthere and then meant to betray; who in these _Memoirs_ is continually\ninvading the privacy of homes in which he was a guest; and who, finally,\ntakes advantage of his official position under oath to disclose\nthe conversations of the Privy Council! Surely, no juster piece of\nself-satire was ever written!\n\n\u201c\u2019Tis a man of universal knowledge,\u201d says La Bruy\u00e8re. His familiarity\nwith constitutional law would lead him to unseat the bench. Judges Park\nand Aldersen, famous lawyers, known to all the courts, are \u201cnonsensical\u201d\nin a decision they come to about the sheriff\u2019s lists. Mr. Justice Park is\n\u201cpeevish and foolish.\u201d\n\nHis loose way of damaging private character is not less remarkable. To\ngive a single instance: he gives a _bon mot_ about a certain Mr. Wakley,\na parliamentary candidate of the day, who was forced to bring an action\nagainst an insurance company, which resisted the claim on the ground\nthat the plaintiff was concerned in the fire. No further information is\ngiven--the verdict of the jury or the judgment. But Mr. Greville thus\ncoolly concludes:\n\n\u201cI forget what was the result of the trial; but that of the evidence was\na conviction of his instrumentality.\u201d A \u201cconviction\u201d by whom? By Mr.\nGreville--who \u201cforgets the result of the trial\u201d! There is nothing to show\nthat the friends or family of this Mr. Wakley are not still living to\nsuffer from this unsupported libel. \u201cJesters,\u201d says a French humorist,\n\u201care wretched creatures; that has been said before. But those who injure\nthe reputation or the fortunes of others rather than lose a _bon mot_,\nmerit an infamous punishment; this has not been said, and I dare say it.\u201d\n\nHis \u201cblackguards\u201d are not all seated on a throne. His hatred of the \u201cmob\u201d\nwas greater, if possible, than his envy of his superiors. \u201cOdi profanum\nvulgus et arceo\u201d is the head-line of all his pages. Look at this entry,\nwhere the whole character of the man breaks forth irresistibly:\n\n\u201cNewmarket, October 1, 1831.--Came here last night, to my great joy, to\nget holidays, and leave reform and politics and cholera for racing and\nits amusements. Just before I came away I met Lord Wharncliffe, and asked\nhim about his interview with radical Jones. This _blackguard_ considers\nhimself a sort of chief of a faction, and one of the heads of the\n_sans-culottins_ of the present day.\u201d\n\nFrom radical Jones to Washington Irving is but a step for Mr. Greville\u2019s\nnimble pen. The one is--what he says; the other, essentially \u201cvulgar.\u201d\nThe same \u201cvulgarity\u201d offends his delicate taste in Thiers, Macaulay, and\na score of others \u201cthe latchet of whose shoes he was unworthy to loose.\u201d\nIs it to be wondered at that the venerable pontiff Pius VIII. (page 325,\nvol. i.) fails to satisfy this fastidious critic? The pope, however,\nescapes tolerably well. As a matter of course, \u201cthere is nothing in him\u201d;\nbut the distinguished urbanity and refined wit of the condescending Mr.\nGreville is satisfied to pronounce him a good-natured \u201ctwaddle.\u201d These\nlarge airs of superior wisdom and refinement, this tone of pitying\nkindness, which Mr. Greville adopts towards the most illustrious men in\nEurope of his day, remind us of nothing so much as the majestic demeanor\nof the _burgo_, or great lord of Lilliput, who harangued Capt. Gulliver\nthe morning after his arrival in that island. \u201cHe seemed to me,\u201d says\nCapt. Gulliver, \u201cto be somewhat longer than my middle finger. He acted\nevery part of an orator, and I could observe many periods of threatening,\nand others of promises, pity, and kindness.\u201d\n\nThe distinguished author of these _Memoirs_ was not always, however,\nas we have seen, in the same amiable mood that the _burgo_ afterwards\nmanifested. After lashing each one of the persons he has known,\nseparately and in turn, in the words which we have quoted, in another\npassage his acquaintances are all collected in a group and dashed off\nwith graphic effect.\n\nOctober 12, 1832.--Immediately after an entry giving a conversation with\nthe accomplished Lady Cowper, he says: \u201cMy journal is getting intolerably\nstupid and entirely barren of events. I would take to miscellaneous and\nprivate matters, if any fell in my way. But what can I make out of such\nanimals as I herd with and such occupations as I am engaged in?\u201d A week\nafter, at Easton, besides Lady Cowper, he names some other \u201canimals\u201d:\n\u201cThe Duke of Rutland, the Walewskis, Lord Burghersh and Hope--the usual\nparty,\u201d he exclaims with a sigh. Sad fate! The adventurous Capt. Gulliver\nelsewhere, in a letter to his cousin Sympson, says: \u201cPray bring to your\nmind how often I desired you to consider, when you insisted on the\nmotive of Public Good, that the Yahoos were a species of animals utterly\nincapable of amendment by precept or example.\u201d\n\nSuch appear to have been the melancholy reflections forced upon the mind\nof Mr. _Houyhnhnm_ Greville by the _Yahoos_ he tells us he was compelled\nto \u201cherd with\u201d! Ever and anon he turns a regretful eye to the nobler\nrace he was suited to, and lets us into the secret of the company and\noccupations that relieved him from the desolating _ennui_ of uncongenial\nsociety.\n\n\u201cJune 11, 1833.--At a place called Buckhurst all last week for the Ascot\nraces. A party at Lentifield\u2019s; racing all the morning; then eating,\ndrinking, and play at night. I may say with more truth than anybody,\n_Video meliora proboque, deteriora sequor_.\u201d\n\n\u201cNot at all,\u201d it might have been answered. \u201cA jockey and gamester _ab\novo usque ad mala_. Fortune has now placed thee in the rank kind nature\nfitted thee to adorn, had not a too avid uncle snatched thee therefrom,\nand dry mountains of crackling parchment and red tape crushed thy\nyearning ardor for the loose boxes and the paddock!\u201d\n\n\u201cMarch 27.--Jockeys, trainers, and blacklegs are my companions, and it\nis like dram-drinking: having once entered upon it, I cannot leave it,\nalthough I am disgusted with the occupation all the time.\u201d Truly a long\nand fond \u201cdisgust,\u201d since it lasted from his eighteenth year until his\ndeath!\n\n\u201cWhile the fever it excites is raging and the odds are varying, I can\nneither read nor write nor occupy myself with anything.\u201d\n\nLet us not be unjust to Mr. Greville. Kings, pontiffs, statesmen, and\nauthors may have been \u201cblackguards\u201d or \u201cvulgar buffoons,\u201d the most\nrefined society of both sexes in England a \u201cherd\u201d of _Yahoos_; but that\nhe was not insensible to real merit, that he had a true appreciation of\nthe good and the beautiful when he found it, one single example, shining\nout in these many pages of depreciation, proves beyond peradventure. In\nthe flood of universal cynicism that pours over them, one man there is at\nleast who lifts his head above the waters--one other gentle Houyhnhnm,\nfit companion for Mr. Greville, possessing all that wisdom and discretion\ndenied to the rest of the world, and, more wonderful still, that elegant\ntaste the fastidious critic finds nowhere else. This phenomenon is Mr.\nJohn Gully, prize-fighter retired! \u201cStrong sense,\u201d \u201cdiscretion,\u201d \u201creserve\nand good taste\u201d--these are the encomiums heaped upon him; to crown all,\n\u201cremarkably dignified and graceful in his manners and actions.\u201d Ah! poor\nMacaulay, or thou, gentle Diedrich Knickerbocker, where wanders now thy\nghost, condemned for thy \u201cvulgarity\u201d to pace the borders of the sluggish\nStyx, while the \u201cchampion heavy-weight\u201d is ferried over to immortality by\nthis new Charon of gentility?\n\nWe decline to soil our pages with any of Mr. Greville\u2019s impure stories.\nThose who have seized on the book for the purpose of reading them must\nhave been sadly disappointed if they hoped to find in them a doubtful\namusement. Not a scintilla of wit relieves their baseness. Their vileness\nis equalled only by their dulness. They are simply falsehoods from\nbeginning to end. Where Mr. Greville, with a singular depravity, does\nnot himself admit them to be false while wilfully publishing them, they\nhave been elsewhere fully and indignantly disproved. In a single word, as\nMrs. Charles Kean aptly says in her letter published in the _Times_, \u201cthe\ngrossness was in Mr. Greville\u2019s mind,\u201d not in the conduct of those he\nslanders.\n\nIf it be said that our criticism upon these volumes and their author has\nbeen too unsparing; that the old saying, _De mortuis nil nisi bonum_,\nshould have inspired a smoother tone, the answer is given by Mr. Greville\nhimself. \u201cMemoirs of this kind,\u201d he said in a conversation held some time\nbefore his death with his editor, Mr. Reeve, \u201cought not to be locked up\ntill they had lost their principal interest by the death of all those\nwho had taken any part in the events they describe.\u201d In other words, the\ndiseased vanity and cynicism which made him rail at everybody while\nhe lived made him unwilling to lose the pleasure by anticipation of\nwounding everybody after his death. The shallow eagerness to have himself\ntalked about after he was gone made him insensible to those ideas which\nseem to have animated Saint-Simon, who was content to look forward to\nan indefinite time for the publication of his _Memoirs_, desiring them\nrather to be a truthful and interesting contribution to history than a\nhasty means of venting his passing spleen. Mr. Greville has indeed been\ntalked about sufficiently; but that the conversation would be pleasing to\nhim, could he hear it, is more doubtful.\n\nOne thing at least is to be commended in Mr. Greville--his style. This,\nfor certain uses, is admirable. It is easy and plain. He is a master\nof that part of the art of writing which Horace describes in the 10th\n_Satire_:\n\n    \u201cInterdum urbani, parcentis viribus atque\n    Extenuantis eas consulto.\u201d\n\nHis is \u201cthe language of the well-bred man,\u201d the pure English of the\nsociety in which he lived. We do not take account here of his occasional\ncoarseness, and even oaths--these were of the character of the man, not\nof his style. The latter, for purposes of correspondence, or even a short\ndiary, might generally be taken for a model. Any single page will be read\nwith pleasure. But as, on the other hand, he neglects the other side of\nthe Venusian\u2019s advice, seldom rising to \u201csupport the part of the poet or\nrhetorician,\u201d these closely-printed volumes eventually become tiresome to\nthe reader. Even good English will grow monotonous if it has nothing else\nto sustain it.\n\nLittle room is left to speak of the greatest of French memoir-writers,\nor perhaps of any literature--Saint-Simon. A few remarks may be jotted\ndown, having reference chiefly to the points of contrast suggested by the\nGreville _Memoirs_. Of the substance and texture of Saint-Simon\u2019s great\nand voluminous work, as it unrolls itself slowly before us--the opening\nsplendor, the daring, the eccentricities, the wit, and the vices of the\ncourts under which he lived; the prodigies of baseness and monuments of\nheroic virtue that rear themselves opposed in that marvellous age; the\nlong line of portraits, dark, lurid, threatening, radiant, gentle, so\nfull of surprises to the student of history as ordinarily written; the\nturning of the fate of campaigns by the caprice of an angry woman; the\ncrippling of fleets by the jealousy of a minister; the desolation of\nwhole provinces by the corruption of intendants; the closing scenes of\nprofligacy and bankruptcy under the regency--many pages would be required\nto give even an outline. The analysis of his genius and character would\nmake a distinct essay. Sainte-Beuve and other masters of criticism have\nlabored in the field; yet the soil is so rich that humbler students\nwill still find enough to repay them. We indicate the landmarks of the\ncountry, without entering on it. Nor would we be supposed to endorse or\ngive our sanction to many of the opinions and sentiments Saint-Simon so\nfreely gives utterance to. His Gallicanism, which he shared with the\ncourt; his sympathy with the Jansenist leaders, if not with their heresy;\nhis violent hatred of the Jesuits--these are blots on his work that cover\nmany pages.\n\nThe Duc de Saint-Simon was born in 1675. During the lifetime of his\nfather he bore the name of the Vidame de Chartres, and in a subsequent\npassage of his _Memoirs_, relating to the birth of his own eldest son,\nhe gives a highly characteristic account of the title. At his first\nappearance at court the king was already privately married to Mme. de\nMaintenon, the widow Scarron, whose character and astonishing fortunes\nare nowhere more vividly described than in the pages of Saint-Simon.\nLouis XIV. was at the summit of his glory. Henceforward, though none\ncould then foresee it, the course was all down-hill. Saint-Simon in his\nfirst campaigns accompanied the king into Flanders. Some discontent about\npromotion, to which he believed himself entitled, caused him to retire\nfrom the service. Henceforward he continued to live chiefly at court,\nhaving already begun the composition of his _Memoirs_. On the death of\nhis father, the confidential adviser of Louis XIII., even under the\nministry of the famous Cardinal Richelieu, he succeeded to the title and\nthe government of Blaye. At this early age he was accustomed secretly to\nvisit the monastery of La Trappe for meditation and retreat. His gravity\nand seriousness of mind are everywhere felt through his _Memoirs_,\nalthough these qualities do not lessen the pungency of his style, nor\nblunt the _bon mots_ of the court, or his graphic description of the\nsurprising adventures of the men of his day. He married Mlle. de Durfort,\nthe daughter of Marshal de Durfort. This union was one of singular\nhappiness, interrupted only by her death.\n\nThe death of the Dauphin, the pupil of F\u00e9nelon, destroyed the hopes\nthat were opening up before Saint-Simon of becoming the chief minister\nof the next reign. Under the regency he continued to be the intimate\nand sometimes confidential adviser of the Duke of Orleans, although\nsupplanted in state affairs by Cardinal Dubois. His embassy to Madrid to\nnegotiate the marriage of the young king, Louis XV., with the Infanta of\nSpain, is well known. After the death of the regent he retired to his\nch\u00e2teau of La Fert\u00e9-Vidame, where chiefly he continued henceforward to\nlive in retirement, composing his immortal _Memoirs_. He died in Paris\nin 1755. Having known the subtle sway of a Maintenon, he lived to see\nthe audacious empire of the Pompadour; and having served in his first\ncampaigns under Luxembourg, he witnessed before his death the Great\nFrederick launch his thunderbolts of war, and the rise of Prussia among\nthe great powers of Europe.\n\nTo attempt, in these few concluding remarks, to give any criticism of\nSaint-Simon\u2019s great work would be a hopeless task. Its character is so\nmany-sided, even contradictory, that any single judgment about it would\nbe deceptive. We were impelled to connect the author\u2019s name with that of\nthe later memoir-writer by the contrasts which irresistibly suggested\nthemselves.\n\nStated broadly, the main distinction between Saint-Simon and such writers\nas Greville and his kind is this: that Saint-Simon presents a connected\nnarrative, flowing on largely, fully, evenly, abundantly, like a majestic\nriver sweeping slowly past many varieties of scenery; while Greville\ngives nothing more than a hodge-podge diary, with no connection except\nthe illusory one of dates, a jumble of short stories, petty details,\nand ill-natured remarks, bubbling like a noisy brook over stones and\nshingle, often half lost in the mud and sand, and not unlikely to end\nin a common sewer. It follows that, while it is difficult to remember\nparticular events or conversations in Greville\u2019s journal, many scenes\nfrom Saint-Simon remain for ever fixed in the memory. Take, for instance,\none--not the most striking--that of the death of Monseigneur. Who\ncan forget the picture of the old king, in tears, only half-dressed,\nhastening to the bedside of his son; the sudden terror of the prince\u2019s\nhousehold; the flight of La Choin, hastily gathering up her jewelry; the\nrow of officers on their knees in the long avenue, crying out to the king\nto save them from dying of hunger; the well-managed eyes of the courtiers\nat Marly!\n\nGreville is cynical or satirical by dint of the child\u2019s art of using hard\nwords. Saint-Simon seldom, comparatively speaking, puts on the garb of\na cynic; but his narrative, with scarcely any obtrusion of the writer,\noften becomes a satire as terrible as that of some passages of Tacitus,\nor, in another vein, of Juvenal.\n\nMany of the historical characters introduced into these works are no\nfavorites of ours; but our purpose in this article has been, not to\ndiscuss them, but rather the capacity and good taste, or otherwise, of\ntheir critics.\n\nSainte-Beuve, in one of his felicitous periods, expresses the wish that\nevery age might have a Saint-Simon to chronicle it. As a paraphrase of\nthis remark, it might be said that it is to be wished no other age may\nhave a Greville to slander it.\n\n\nDOM GU\u00c9RANGER AND SOLESMES.[87]\n\n\nI.\n\nThe church in France has just sustained a severe loss in the death of\nDom Gu\u00e9ranger, the illustrious Abbot of Solesmes, who, on the 30th of\nJanuary last, rendered up his soul to God in the noble abbey which he had\nrestored at the same time that he brought back the Benedictine Order to\nFrance; and where, during the last forty years of his life, he had lived\nin the practice of every monastic virtue, and in the pursuit of literary\nlabors which have rendered him one of the oracles of ecclesiastical\nlearning.\n\nWe are not about to enter into details of the religious life of the\nvenerable abbot. It belongs rather to those who have been its daily\nwitnesses to trace its history; but we feel that it may be of interest\nto touch upon certain features of the character and public works of this\nhumble and patient religious, this vigorous athlete, the loss of whom is\nso keenly felt by the Holy Father, whose friend and counsellor he was,\nand by the church, of which he was the honor and the unwearied defender.\n\nDom Gu\u00e9ranger, in mental temperament, belonged to that valiant generation\nof Catholics who, after 1830, energetically undertook the cause of\nreligion in their unhappy country, more than ever exposed to the attacks\nof the Revolution. The university had become a source of antichristian\nteaching; the press everywhere overflowed with evil and daring scandals\nof every kind were rife. A new generation of Jacobins had sprung from\nthe old stock, and were eager to invade everything noble, venerable, and\nsacred; legal tyranny threatened to do away with well-nigh all liberty of\nconscience, while the government, either not daring or not desiring to\nsever itself from the ambitious conspirators to whom it owed its being,\nallowed free course to the outrages and persecutions against the church.\nIt was the most critical and ominous period of the century, and French\nsociety was rapidly sinking into an abyss.\n\nOne man, who had foreseen all this evil, and whose genius would have\nprobably sufficed victoriously to combat it, had he only possessed\nthe virtue of humility, was M. de Lamennais. Happily, the pleiades\nof chosen minds whom he had gathered around him did not lose courage\nafter the melancholy defection of their brilliant master. The three\nmost illustrious of these shared among them the defence of the faith\nagainst the floods of unbelief that threatened to overwhelm the country.\nMontalembert remained to defend the church in the public assemblies;\nLacordaire adopted as his own the words of S. Paul to his disciple,\n_Pr\u00e6dica verbum, insta opportune, importune_,[88] and succeeded so\neffectually that he brought back the robe of S. Dominic into the\npulpit of Notre Dame, amid the applause of the conquered multitude;\nGu\u00e9ranger felt that prayer and sound learning were the two great wants\nof society. The number of priests was insufficient for the labors of the\nsacred ministry. The needs of the time had indeed called forth some few\nweighty as well as brilliant apologists; but deep and solid learning\nas yet remained buried in the past, and the patient study so necessary\nfor the polemics of the present and the future threatened indefinitely\nto languish. It was to this point, therefore, that the Abb\u00e9 Gu\u00e9ranger\ndirected his especial attention, and he it was who was chosen of God to\nrekindle the expiring, if not extinguished, flame.\n\nHe was led to this sooner than he himself had perhaps anticipated, and\nby a circumstance which rather appeared likely to have disturbed his\nprojects. Solesmes, which, up to the Revolution, had been a priory\ndependent on S. Vincent de Mans, had just been sold to one of those\n\u201cinfernal bands\u201d who in the course of a few years destroyed the greatest\nglories of France. Everything was to be pulled down: the cloister of\neight centuries and the church, renowned for the admirable sculptures now\ndoomed to fall beneath the \u201caxe and hammer\u201d; the authorities of the time\ndoing nothing to check the devastation effected by the bandits who were\nrifling their country after having assassinated her.\n\nThe Abb\u00e9 Gu\u00e9ranger could not endure to witness the annihilation of so\nmuch that was sacred and venerable; besides, the ruins of Solesmes were\nespecially dear to him, and had been the favorite haunt of his early\nchildhood and youth, so much so that from this and other characteristic\ncircumstances he was at that period known among his school comrades\nat Le Sabl\u00e9 as _The Monk_. In concert with Dom Fontaine and other\necclesiastics of the neighborhood he rescued the abbey from the hands\nof its intending destroyers. It had already suffered considerably from\nthe Revolution, but remained intact in all essential particulars. He\nspent the winter of 1833 at Paris, going about the city in his monk\u2019s\nhabit--which at that time had become a novelty--and knocking at every\ndoor, without troubling himself about the religious opinions or belief of\nthose to whom he addressed himself. The sceptical citizens of the time\namused themselves not a little at his expense; but the learned world\nreceived with distinction the energetic young priest who was so bent\nupon giving back the Benedictine Order to France. He never once allowed\nany obstacles to hinder or discourage him in the prosecution of his\nundertaking. In 1836 he repaired to Rome, there to make his novitiate;\nand, after a year passed in the Benedictine Abbey of San Paolo Fuora\nMuri, he pronounced his solemn vows, and occupied himself in preparing\nthe constitutions of Solesmes. These, on the 1st of September, 1837, were\napproved by Pope Gregory XVI., who at the same time raised the Priory of\nSolesmes into an abbey, and authoritatively nominated Dom Gu\u00e9ranger to be\nits first abbot.\n\nSolesmes and the grand Order of S. Benedict were thus restored to France.\nThe new abbot was soon surrounded by men nearly all of whom have taken\na distinguished rank in learning and science, and during forty years\nthe austere discipline and deep and extensive studies of the sons of S.\nBenedict flourished under his able rule.\n\nDom Gu\u00e9ranger, moreover, restored Ligug\u00e9, the oldest monastery in\nFrance, built in 360 by S. Martin of Tours. He also founded the Priory of\nS. Madeleine at Marseilles, and at Solesmes the Abbey of Benedictine Nuns\nof S. Cecilia.\n\nThe attention he bestowed upon these important foundations did not hinder\nthis indefatigable religious from amassing the treasures of erudition\nwhich he dispensed with so much ability in defence of the truth and of\nsound doctrine. To the end of his life his pen was active either in\nwriting the numerous works which have rendered his name so well known,\nor in correcting the errors of polemics and answering his adversaries\nwhen the interests of religion required it; habitually going straight\nto the point in his replies, fearlessly attacking whatever was false or\nmistaken, and never allowing any approach to a compromise with error. The\ndefence of the church was his constant and engrossing thought, and no\nimportant controversy arose but he was sure to appear with the accuracy\nof his learning and the always serious but unsparing process of a logic\nsupported by a thorough acquaintance with doctrine and facts.\n\nThe Abbot of Solesmes was endowed with a large amount of prudence and\ngood sense. When his former companions of La Chesnaie undertook to\npopularize \u201cliberal Catholicism,\u201d the precise creed of which has never\nyet been ascertained, and the unfailing results of which have been\nscandal and division, he undertook to bring back the church in France to\nunity of prayer by writing his book entitled _Institutions Liturgiques_,\nwhich, exhibiting in all their beauty the forgotten rites and symbols,\nsucceeded in securing for them the appreciation they merit; so that\nfrom that time the liturgy in France began to disengage itself from the\nmultiplicity of particular observances.\n\nIn this matter Dom Gu\u00e9ranger had engaged in no trifling combat, his\nopponents being many and powerful; but he energetically defended his\nground, and did not die until he had seen his undertaking crowned with\nfull success by the restoration of the Roman liturgy in France.\n\nBesides these liturgical labors, which chiefly occupied him, and his\n_Letters_ to the Archbishops of Rheims and Toulouse, as likewise to Mgr.\nFayet, Bishop of Orleans, in defence of the _Institutions_, he undertook\nthe _Liturgical Year_, which, unfortunately, was left unfinished at\nhis death. His _M\u00e9moire_ upon the Immaculate Conception was included\namong those memorials sent to the bishops by the Sovereign Pontiff on\nthe promulgation of the dogma. His _Sainte C\u00e9cile_, remarkable for\nits historical accuracy, as well as for its excellence as a literary\ncomposition, is a finished picture of Christian manners during the\nearliest centuries.\n\nWhen the Vatican Council was sitting, Dom Gu\u00e9ranger appeared for the\nlast time in the breach. Confined a prisoner by sickness, but intrepid\nas those old captains who insist on being borne into the midst of the\nfight, he wished to take part in the great debate which was being carried\non in the church. He fought valiantly, and answered the adversaries\nof tradition by his work on _The Pontifical Monarchy_, defending Pope\nHonorius against the attacks of an ill-informed academician.\n\nWe are unable to give a complete list of the writings of Dom Gu\u00e9ranger,\nnumerous articles having been published by him in the _Univers_--notably\nthose on Maria d\u2019Agreda and the reply to an exaggerated idea of M.\nd\u2019Haussonville on the attitude of the church under the persecution of\nthe First Bonaparte. We will only name, in concluding this part of the\nsubject, his _Essais sur le Naturalisme_, which dealt a heavy blow to\nfree-thinking; his _R\u00e9ponses_ upon the liturgical law to M. l\u2019Abb\u00e9 David,\nnow Bishop of St. Brieuc; and a _D\u00e9fense des Jesuites_.\n\nShould it be asked how the Abbot of Solesmes could find the time for so\nmany considerable works, the answer is given in the _Imitation_: _Cella\ncontinuata dulcescit_. He had made retreat a willing necessity for\nhimself, and, being in the habit of doing everything in its proper time,\nhe had time for everything without need of haste.\n\nFrom the day that he became Abbot of Solesmes he was scarcely ever seen\nin the world, never absenting himself without absolute necessity or from\nobedience. Of middle height, decided manner, with a quick eye and serious\nsmile, Dom Gu\u00e9ranger attracted those who came to him by the simplicity\nand kindness of his reception, and those who sought his advice by the\ndiscerning wisdom of his counsels. High ecclesiastical dignities might\nhave been his had he not preferred to remain in the seclusion of his\nbeloved abbey.\n\nHe leaves behind him something far better than even his books, in\nbequeathing to the church and to society a family of monks strongly\nimbued with his spirit, and destined to perpetuate the holy traditions\nwhich he was the first to revive in his native land.\n\nThe imposing ceremonies of the funeral of Dom Gu\u00e9ranger, which took\nplace on the 4th of February at the Abbey of Solesmes, were conducted by\nthe Bishops of Mans, Nantes, and Quimper; there were also present the\nAbbots of Ligug\u00e9, La Trappe de Mortagne, Aiguebelle, and Pierre-qui-Vire,\nbesides more than two hundred priests of La Sarthe.\n\nThe remains of the reverend father, clothed in pontifical vestments,\nwith the mitre and crozier, were exposed in the church from the evening\nof the 30th (Saturday) for the visits of the faithful, crowds of whom\ncame from all the country round, in spite of the exceeding inclemency of\nthe weather, to pay their last respects and to be present at the funeral\nof the illustrious man, who, during his forty years\u2019 residence among\nthem, had made himself so greatly beloved. Just before the close of the\nceremony, when the Bishop of Mans invited those present to look for the\nlast time upon the holy and beautiful countenance of the departed abbot,\nwho had been a father to many outside as well as within the cloister\nwalls, a general and irrepressible burst of sobs and tears arose from the\nmultitude which thronged the church.\n\nAmong those present were many noble and learned friends of the deceased,\nbesides the mayor and municipal council of Solesmes, and also of Sabl\u00e9\n(Dom Gu\u00e9ranger\u2019s native place), a deputation of the marble-workers of the\ndistrict, and people of every class.\n\n\nII.\n\n    \u201cLa voyez vous croitre,\n    La tour du vieux cloitre?\u201d\n\nBefore concluding our notice we must devote a page or two to the \u201cOld\nCloister Tower,\u201d which is discernible from a considerable distance, with\nits four or five stories and its heraldic crown rising above the walls of\nthe ancient borough of Solesmes. The abbey itself next appears in sight,\nmajestically seated on the slope of a wide valley, through which flows\nthe Sarthe, on a level with its grassy borders.\n\nThe locality, which is pleasing rather than picturesque, is fertile,\nanimated, and cheerful. Besides several ch\u00e2teaux of recent construction,\nwhich face the abbey from the opposite side of the river, may be seen, at\nsome distance off, the splendid convent of Benedictine Nuns, built some\nyears ago by a lady of Marseilles, and on the horizon appears the Ch\u00e2teau\nof Sabl\u00e9, with its vast terraces and (according to the country-people)\nits three hundred and sixty-five windows.\n\nThe Abbey of Solesmes, founded about the year 1025, has preserved, in\nspite of several reconstructions, the architectural arrangement, so\nsuitable for community life, copied by its first monks from the Roman\nhouses of the order. The enclosure consists of a quadrangle, with an\nalmost interminable cloister, out of which are entrances into the\nchurch, the chapter-house, the refectory, the guest-chamber, and all the\nplaces of daily assembly. There silence and recollection reign supreme.\nExcepting only during the times of recreation, no sound is to be heard\nsave the twittering of birds, the sound of the _Angelus_ or some other\noccasional bell, or the subdued voice of a monk who, with some visitor,\nis standing before a sculptured saint, or examining the fragments of some\nancient tomb.\n\nIt is chiefly the abbey church which attracts the curiosity and interest\nof artists and antiquaries. There is not an arch\u00e6ologist who has not\nheard of the \u201cSaints of Solesmes,\u201d as the groups of statues and symbolic\nsculptures are called which fill the chapels of the transept from roof\nto pavement. These wonderful works, executed for the most part under the\ndirection of the priors of Solesmes, form one of the finest monuments of\nmedi\u00e6val sculpture to be found in France. They are mystic and somewhat\nmannered in style, but of bold conception, vigorously expressed.\n\nA multitude of personages, sacred, historical, or allegorical,\nintermingle with coats-of-arms, heraldic devices, bandrols, and all the\ndetails of an ornamentation of which the skilfully-studied arrangement\ncorrects the redundance, which would otherwise be confused. This,\nhowever, is but the purely decorative portion; the principal works being\nenshrined in deep niches or recesses, in which may be seen groups of\nseven or eight figures, the size of life, and wonderfully effective in\nattitude and action.\n\nIn a low-vaulted crypt resting on pillars, to the right, is represented\nthe Entombment. This group, which is the earliest in date, having been\nexecuted in 1496 under the direction of Michel Colomb, \u201chabitant de Tours\net tailleur d\u2019ymaiges du roy,\u201d is the most considerable, and perhaps also\nthe most striking. All the figures, ten in number, have impressed on\ntheir countenances and movements the feeling of the dolorous function in\nwhich they are engaged. Most of them are represented in the costume, and\nprobably with the features, of persons of the time. Joseph of Arimathea\nin particular has the look and bearing of the lord of the place, or, it\nmay be, of the prior of the monastery. But nothing attracts the attention\nmore than a little statue with features so refined that it might have\ndescended from the canvas of Carlo Dolci. It is the Magdalen, seated in\nthe dust; the elbows supported on the knees, the hands joined, the eyes\nclosed. All her life seems concentrated in her soul; and that is absorbed\nin penitence and prayer, grief, love, and resignation--she is as if still\nshedding her sanctified odors at the Saviour\u2019s feet.\n\nThe left transept is devoted to the honor of the Blessed Virgin. She has\nfallen asleep in the Lord, surrounded by the apostles. Then follow her\nburial, her Assumption, and finally her glorification. She tramples under\nfoot the dragon, who, with bristling horns and claws, vainly endeavors\nto reach her. He is bound for a thousand years. This subject, rarely\nattempted, is here powerfully treated; all these heads, with horrible\ngrimaces, appear to be howling and blaspheming in impotent fury--_Et\niratus est draco in mulierem_[89]--but the Woman is raised on high, and\nwith her virginal foot tramples on the enemy of mankind. Facing this\nsubject are the patriarchs and prophets, in niches royally decorated.\nThis work was executed in 1550 by Floris d\u2019Anvers, after the plan given\nby Jean Bouglet, Doctor of the Sorbonne, and Prior of Solesmes.\n\nBut time would fail us to describe all these remarkable sculptures,\nwhich so narrowly escaped destruction or desecration at the hands of the\nrevolutionists. The First Napoleon had the idea of transporting them\nto some museum as curiosities of art. It would have been a sacrilege,\nand one which, alas! has been too often perpetrated in other countries\nbesides France. But what Catholic that visits the garden even, to say\nnothing of the museum, of the ancient monastery of Cluny (now Mus\u00e9e de\nCluny, at Paris), is not pained at seeing saints and virgins, angels and\napostles, more or less shattered and dismembered, torn from their places\nin the sanctuary, and figuring as statues on the lawn, or mere groups of\nsculpture picturesquely placed to assist the effect of the gardener\u2019s\narrangement of the shrubs and flower-beds?\n\nBonaparte, however (after testing with gimlet and saw the hardness of the\nstone), found himself obliged to leave the \u201cSaints of Solesmes\u201d where\nthey were, as, unless the whole were to be ruined, the entire transept\nwould have had to be transported all in one piece, every part of this\nimmense sculptured fresco being connected and, as it were, enwound with\nthe other portions, and each detail having only its particular excellence\nin the completeness of the rest.\n\nIt is amid the ceremonies of Solesmes that those who enter into the\nspirit of Christian art can penetrate more deeply into the meaning of the\nvast poem carved upon the walls of the church. During the simple recital\nof the psalms, as in the most solemn and magnificent ceremonies, there is\na striking harmony between the decoration and the action, the one being a\ncommentary on the other. The monks, motionless in their carven stalls, or\ndisposed on the steps of the altar, seem to make one with the Jerusalem\nin stone, while the saints in their niches may almost be imagined to sing\nwith the psalmody and meditate during the solemn rites at which they are\npresent. At the most solemn moment of the Mass, when clouds of incense\nare filling the holy place, the mystic dove descends, bearing between\nher silver wings the Bread of Heaven, and, when it is deposited in the\npyx, mounts again into her aerial shrine, which is suspended from a lofty\ncross.\n\nThis custom of elevating the tabernacle between heaven and earth was not\nthe only one in which the venerable abbot exactly copied the ancient\nrites. The ceremonies of Solesmes are full of the spirit of the church\u2019s\nliturgy, and the community formed by his teaching and example will not\nfail to perpetuate the pious and venerable observances which he was the\nfirst to restore in France.\n\n\nLEGEND OF THE BLUMISALPE.\n\nThere was a time when around this mountain, now covered with perpetual\nsnow, swarms of bees produced aromatic honey; fine cows, pasturing the\nentire year in the green fields, filled the dairy-women\u2019s pails with rich\nmilk; and the farmer by trifling labor obtained abundant harvests. But\nthe inhabitants of this fertile country, blinded by the splendor of their\nfortune, became proud and haughty. They were intoxicated with the charms\nof wealth; they forgot that there are duties attached to the possession\nof wealth--the duties of hospitality and of charity. Instead of using\ntheir treasures judiciously, they employed them solely in ministering to\na more luxurious idleness, and in a continual succession of festivities.\nThey closed their ears to the supplications of the unfortunate, and sent\nthe poor from their doors; and God punished them.\n\nOne of these proud, rich men built on the verdant slopes of the\nBlumisalpe a superb ch\u00e2teau, intending to reside there, surrounded by\nhis unworthy associates. Every morning their baths were filled with the\npurest milk.\n\nThe terraced steps of the gardens were made, according to the legend, of\nfinely-cut blocks of excellent cheese. This Sardanapalus of the mountains\nhad inherited all his father\u2019s vast domains, and, whilst he revelled in\nthis manner in his rich possessions, his old mother was living in want in\nthe seclusion of the valley. One day the poor old woman, suffering from\ncold and hunger, supplicated his compassion. She told him that she was\nliving alone in her cabin, unable to work; indigent, without assistance;\ninfirm, without support. She begged him to grant her the fragments of\nhis feast, a refuge in his stables; but, deaf to her entreaties, he\nordered her to leave. She showed him her cheeks, wrinkled by grief more\nthan by age; her emaciated arms, that had carried him in his infancy; he\nthreatened to command his attendants to drive her away.\n\nThe poor woman returned to her cabin, overwhelmed with grief by this\ncruel outrage. She tottered through his beautiful grounds with bowed\nhead, and sighs that she could not restrain burst from her oppressed\nheart, and bitter tears streamed from her eyes. God counted the mother\u2019s\ntears.\n\nShe had scarcely arrived at her hut when the avenging storm came.\n\nThe ch\u00e2teau of the ignominious son was struck by lightning, his treasures\nwere consumed by the flames, from which he himself did not escape, and\nhis companions perished with him.\n\nThose fields, that once yielded so abundantly, are now covered with\na mass of snow that never melts. On the spot where his mother vainly\nimplored his compassion, the rent earth has opened a frightful abyss;\nand where her tears then flowed now, drop by drop, fall the tears of the\neternal glaciers.\n\n\nNEW PUBLICATIONS\n\n    THE YOUNG CATHOLIC\u2019S ILLUSTRATED FIFTH READER. Pp. 430, 12mo.\n    THE YOUNG CATHOLIC\u2019S ILLUSTRATED SIXTH READER AND SPEAKER.\n    By Rev. J. L. Spalding, S.T.L. Pp. 477, 12mo. New York: The\n    Catholic Publication Society, 9 Warren Street. 1875.\n\nThese books have been prepared with great care and rare tact. We have\nexamined, from time to time, the various Readers which are used in this\ncountry, and the Young Catholic\u2019s Series is certainly the best which we\nhave seen. But the Fifth and Sixth Readers of this series are especially\ngood, and we are confident that they are destined to become the standard\nReaders of the Catholic schools of the United States. They are indeed\nmore than reading-books: they are collections of choice specimens of\nEnglish literature, in prose and poetry, so arranged as to present every\nvariety of style, that opportunity may be given to the pupil to cultivate\nall the different forms of vocal expression.\n\nIn the Fifth Reader the attention of the young Catholic is called to the\nhistory of the church in the United States by the attractive biographical\nnotices of some of the most distinguished bishops and archbishops of\nthis country; and, as an introduction to the Sixth, we have a brief but\nexhaustive treatise on elocution. We have not the space to enter into\na minute criticism of these books; but we have expressed our honest\nconviction of their excellence, and we are quite sure that their own\nmerits will open for them a way into Catholic schools throughout the land.\n\n    PAX. THE SYLLABUS FOR THE PEOPLE: A Review of the Propositions\n    condemned by His Holiness Pope Pius IX., with Text of the\n    Condemned List. By a Monk of S. Augustine\u2019s, Ramsgate, author\n    of _The Vatican Decrees and Catholic Allegiance_. New York: The\n    Catholic Publication Society. 1875.\n\nThis is an almost necessary complement to the publications forming the\nGladstone controversy, the original being so frequently referred to by\nMr. Gladstone and his reviewers.\n\nWe cannot do better than quote the editor\u2019s preface, by way of comment:\n\n\u201cThe Syllabus of Pius IX. has been the subject of so many misconceptions\nthat a plain and simple setting forth of its meaning cannot be useless.\nThis is what I have tried to do in the following pages. A vindication or\ndefence of the Syllabus was, of course, out of the question in so small\na compass; but I think that more than half the work of defence is done\nby a simple explanation. During the ten years just completed since its\npromulgation, much has occurred to show the wisdom that dictated it.\nThe translation I have given is the one authorized by His Eminence the\nCardinal Archbishop of Dublin.\u201d\n\n    POSTSCRIPT TO A LETTER ADDRESSED TO HIS GRACE THE DUKE OF\n    NORFOLK, ON OCCASION OF MR. GLADSTONE\u2019S RECENT EXPOSTULATION,\n    AND IN ANSWER TO HIS \u201cVATICANISM.\u201d By John Henry Newman, D. D.,\n    of the Oratory. New York: The Catholic Publication Society.\n    1875.\n\nIn this _Postscript_ Dr. Newman pulverizes the different statements of\nMr. Gladstone\u2019s rejoinder, one by one. The blunders of the ex-Premier are\nnot surprising, seeing that he attempts to write about matters in which\nhe is not well informed, but they are certainly very gross. Dr. Newman\nhas taken him by the hand with a very gentle smile on his countenance,\nbut he has broken his bones as in a vise.\n\n    PERSONAL REMINISCENCES. By Moore and Jerdan. Edited by Richard\n    Henry Stoddard. New York: Scribner, Armstrong & Company. 1875.\n\nThis small and dainty-looking little volume is one of the \u201cBric-a-Brac\u201d\nSeries. Its two hundred and eighty-eight pages profess to give us the\n\u201cpersonal reminiscences\u201d of Moore and Jerdan. They give nothing more\nthan such extracts from the original as have taken the fancy of the\neditor. Whether that fancy has always been wise in its choice is fairly\nopen to question. There is much of Moore\u2019s reminiscences omitted that\nmight have been very profitably inserted, at least in exchange for many\nthings which have found their way into the volume. It is Moore \u201cbottled\noff,\u201d so to say, and given out in small doses. The experiment is not\nvery satisfactory. Moore suffered irretrievably in his biographer, Lord\nJohn Russell, of whose \u201ceight solid volumes,\u201d as Mr. Stoddard says, \u201cthe\nessence is here presented to the reader.\u201d Lord Russell will be credited\nwith many blunders in after time, and very grave ones some of them; but\nnever did he make a more exasperating mistake than in undertaking the\nediting of Moore\u2019s _Memoirs, Journal, and Correspondence_, in rivalry\nof Moore\u2019s own admirable biography of Byron. Readers of _Personal\nReminiscences_ must be prepared to meet with a vast quantity of nonsense\nand trash. But much of this constitutes the chief value of such works. In\nthe jottings down of daily journals no one expects to meet with profound\nreflections and labored thoughts. They are rather, in the hands of such\nmen as Moore, \u201cthe abstract and brief chronicle of the time\u201d in which\nthey are made. Moore\u2019s witty and graceful pen was just adapted to such\nwork as this. Whoever or whatever was considered worth seeing in the\nworld in which he lived and moved as one of its chief ornaments, he saw,\nand set down in his private journal. Bits of this Mr. Stoddard gives us\nin the present volume; but those who care for this kind of literature\nat all will prefer the whole to such parts as have pleased the editor;\nand the whole does possess an intrinsic value to which the present\nvolume does not pretend. Mr. Stoddard\u2019s preface is not encouraging. He\nseems to write under protest that his valuable time should be consumed\nin this kind of work. \u201cI cannot put myself in the place of a man who\nkeeps a journal in which he is the principal figure, and in which his\nwhereabouts, and actions, and thoughts, and feelings are detailed year\nafter year,\u201d says Mr. Stoddard; and the obvious comment is: \u201cVery\nprobably; but no one has asked Mr. Stoddard to do anything so foolish.\u201d\nPersons who keep \u201cjournals,\u201d however, are not in the habit of keeping\nthem for other people. \u201cI cannot put myself in the place of Moore,\u201d\ninsists Mr. Stoddard, with unnecessary pertinacity, \u201cwho seems to have\nnever lost interest in himself.\u201d The comment again is very obvious:\nMr. Stoddard is a very different man from Mr. Moore. The truth is, Mr.\nStoddard does not like either Moore or his poetry. \u201cThe reputation which\nhad once been his had waned.\u201d \u201cA new and greater race of poets than the\none to which he belonged had risen.\u201d \u201c_Lalla Rookh_ was still read,\n_perhaps_, but not with the same pleasure as _The Princess_ or _The Blot\non the Scutcheon_. Moore had \u2018ceased to charm.\u2019\u201d Such statements as these\nMr. Stoddard would seem to consider self evident facts of which no proof\nis needed. And he would be astonished were some one to ask him to point\nout the \u201cnew and greater race of poets\u201d which has arisen since Moore\u2019s\ndeath. Still more would he be astonished if asked to point out, not \u201ca\nrace of poets,\u201d but a single member of the race whose writings are more\nread, whose name and fame are better known, who is \u201cgreater,\u201d than Moore.\nHe would be thunderstruck were he informed that for a hundred who had\nread _Lalla Rookh_ not twenty had read _The Princess_, knew its author\nor of its existence, and not ten knew even of the name of the other\npoem mentioned. Altogether, though Mr. Stoddard\u2019s preface is short,\nit is certainly not sweet, and both himself and the reader are to be\ncongratulated at his not having extended it.\n\n    OUR LADY\u2019S DOWRY; or, How England Gained and Lost that Title. A\n    compilation by the Rev. T. E. Bridgett, of the Congregation of\n    the Most Holy Redeemer. London: Burns & Oates. 1875. (New York:\n    Sold by The Catholic Publication Society.)\n\nThis book is among the most delightful and the most valuable which it has\nbeen our good-fortune to meet with. It establishes not only the fact of\nEngland having been called \u201cthroughout Europe Our Lady\u2019s Dowry,\u201d but her\nright to the glorious title.\n\nThose who imagine what is known to-day as Catholic devotion to Our Lady\na thing of comparatively modern growth, or, again, that it can only\nbloom luxuriantly in the sunny climes of Spain and Italy, will find both\nillusions dispelled in these pages. The old Anglo-Saxon love of Mary was\nas warm and tender as any of which human hearts are capable. And instead\nof finding our English ancestors behind us in this devotion, we must\nrather own ourselves behind them.\n\nWe would gladly give our readers an analysis of Father Bridgett\u2019s\n\u201ccompilation,\u201d but this cannot be done except in an elaborate review.\nSuffice it to say that never was a \u201ccompilation\u201d (as the author modestly\ncalls it) less like what is ordinarily understood by the term--we mean in\npoint of interest and style.\n\nWe subjoin a passage from Chapter V. on \u201cBeads and Bells\u201d (p. 201). We\nthink the information it contains will be new to almost all:\n\n\u201cThe word \u2018bead\u2019 has undergone in English a curious transformation of\nmeaning. It is the past participle of the Saxon verb _biddan_, to bid,\nto invite, to _pray_. Thus in early English it is often used simply for\n_prayers_, without any reference whatever to their nature or the mode\nof reciting them. To \u2018bid the beads\u2019 is merely to say one\u2019s prayers.\n\u2018Bidding the beads\u2019 also meant a formal enumeration of the objects of\nprayer or persons to be prayed for. Beadsmen or beads-women are not\nnecessarily persons who say the Rosary, but simply those who pray for\nothers, especially for their benefactors.\n\n\u201cBut as a custom was introduced in very early times of counting prayers\nsaid, by the use of little grains or pebbles strung together, the name\nof prayer got attached to the instrument used for saying prayers; and in\nthis sense the word beads is commonly used by Catholics at the present\nday.\n\n\u201cLastly, the idea of prayer was dropped out altogether in Protestant\ntimes, and the name of \u2018beads\u2019 was left attached to any little perforated\nballs which could be strung together merely for personal adornment,\nwithout any reference to devotion.\u201d\n\n    BULLA JUBIL\u00c6I 1875; seu, Sanctissimi Domini nostri Pii Divina\n    Providentia Pap\u00e6 IX. Epistola Encyclica: Gravibus Ecclesi\u00e6, cum\n    Notis, Practicis ad usum Cleri Americani. Curante A. Konings,\n    C.SS.R. Neo-Eboraci: Typus Societatis pro Libris Catholicis\n    Evulgandis. MDCCCLXXV.\n\nThe reverend clergy will be grateful to Father Konings for this\nconvenient and beautiful edition of the text of the bull announcing the\npresent Jubilee, and for the accompanying notes.\n\n    SEVEN STORIES. By Lady Georgiana Fullerton. Baltimore: Kelly,\n    Piet & Company. 1875.\n\nThis is a handsome reprint of a work the English edition of which was\nnoticed, on its first appearance, in these pages.\n\n    READINGS FROM THE OLD TESTAMENT. Arranged with Chronological\n    Tables, Explanatory Notes, and Maps. For the Use of Students.\n    By J. G. Wenham, Canon of Southwark. London: Burns & Oates.\n    1875. (New York: Sold by The Catholic Publication Society.)\n\nThe title of the work is almost a sufficient description of its contents.\nThe primary object of the book is to give a consecutive history of the\nevents related in the Old Testament, in the words of Holy Scripture. It\nincludes a history of the patriarchs from the beginning to the birth\nof Moses; of the Israelites from the birth of Moses to the end of the\nJudges; of the Kings from the establishment of the kingdom to its end;\nand of the Prophets from B.C. 606 to the birth of Christ, embracing an\naccount of the prophetic writings.\n\n\n\n\nTHE CATHOLIC WORLD.\n\nVOL. XXI., No. 123.--JUNE, 1875.\n\nEntered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1875, by Rev. I. T.\nHECKER, in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington D. C.\n\n\nSPECIMEN CHARITIES.\n\nCharity is generally acknowledged to be, particularly by those who do\nnot practise it, the greatest of the virtues. Judged by this standard,\neverything connected with it ought to command a special interest. Among\nourselves the most practical form of it is exhibited in the institutions\nprovided for the care of that large section of society that may be\nclassed as the unfortunate. It is only natural to suppose, then, that\nthe reports of these institutions would be caught up and studied with\navidity by the public, who in some shape or form pay for and support\nthem. Nothing, however, is further from the truth. It is safe to say\nthat not one man out of every hundred ever sees a report of any single\ninstitution, or ever dreams even of the existence of such a thing.\n\nThis indifference to how our money goes is one of the chief causes of\nthe gross peculations and frauds that startle and shock the public mind\nfrom time to time. Where scrutiny is not close and constant, the conduct\nof those who have reason to expect scrutiny is apt to be proportionately\nloose and careless. There is no intention in saying this to arraign the\nmanagers of public institutions with loose and careless conduct in the\ndischarge of their duties and the dispensing of the large sums of money\nconfided to their care. All that we would say is that the public is too\ninert in the matter. A sharp lookout on officials of any kind never does\nharm to any one. It will be courted by honest men, while it hangs like\nthe sword of Damocles over the heads of the dishonest. At all events, it\nis the safest voucher for activity, zeal, and honesty on all sides.\n\nThe reports of several of the institutions best known to the public in\nthis city have been examined, and the result of the investigation will\nbe set forth in this article. It may be said here that perhaps a chief\nreason for the general apathy of the public regarding these reports is\ndue to the reports themselves. As a rule, they seem to be drawn up with\nthe express purpose of giving the least possible information in the most\nroundabout fashion. The very sight of them warns an inquirer off. While\nhe is solely intent on finding out what such and such an institution\ndoes for its inmates, what it has done, what it purposes doing, how\nit is conducted, what it costs, what it produces, what success it can\npoint to in plain black and white, and not in general terms, he is\nalmost invariably treated to homilies on charity; to dissertations on\nthe growing number of the poor and the awfulness of crime; to tirades\non the public-school question; to highly-colored opinions on the duty\nof enforcing education; to extracts from letters that, for all he can\ndetermine, date from nowhere and are signed by no one. Such is a fair\ndescription of the average \u201creport\u201d of any given charity or public\ninstitution, as any conscientious reader who is anxious for a sleepless\nnight and morning headache may convince himself by glancing at the first\nhalf-dozen that come in his way.\n\nThis is much to be regretted. Little more than a year ago public inquiry\nwas stimulated by the public press to examine into the record of the\ninstitutions that for years and years have been absorbing vast sums of\nmoney, with no very apparent result. Grave charges were then made and\nsubstantiated by very ugly figures, showing that the cost of the majority\nof institutions was enormously in excess of the good effected. It was\ncharged that the statistics were not clear, that the managers shirked\ninquiry, that the salaries were enormously disproportionate to the work\ndone--in a word, that the least benefit accrued to those for whom the\ninstitutions were founded, erected, and kept a-going. Suspicion speedily\ntook possession of the public mind that what went by the name of public\ncharity was nothing more nor less than a system of organized plunder.\n\nThat opinion is neither endorsed nor gainsaid here. The result of such\ninvestigations as have been made of reports drawn up for the past year\nhave been simply set forth, so that every reader may judge for himself\nas to the benefits accruing to the public from the institutions in their\nmidst which every year absorb an aggregate of several millions of public\nand private funds.\n\nThe institutions whose reports have been examined are for children of\nboth sexes and of all creeds. Some of them are more, some less, directly\nunder State control. All, at least, are under State patronage. Their aim\nand purport is to relieve the State of a stupendous task--the care and\nfuture provision for children who, without such care and provision, would\nin all probability go astray, and become, if not a danger, at least a\nburden, to the State. On this ground the State or city, or both together,\nmake or makes to each one certain apportionments and awards of the public\nmoneys. Those apportionments and awards are not in all cases equal either\nin amount or in average. It is not claimed here that they are necessarily\nbound to be equal either in amount or in average. The gift is practically\na free gift on the part of the State, although between itself and the\ninstitutions the award made partakes of the nature of a contract. So\nmuch is allowed for the care of State wards. What may be fairly claimed,\nhowever, is that the awards of the State should be regulated by justice\nand impartiality. Most money ought to be given where it is clear that\nmost good is effected by it. This system of award does not prevail.\n\nAgain, as these institutions undertake the entire control of their\ninmates, and to a great extent their disposal after leaving, they are\ncharged with the mental, moral, and physical training of those inmates. A\nvast number of the children are in all cases of the Catholic faith.\n\nAs the general question of religion in our public institutions was\ndealt with at length in the April number of THE CATHOLIC WORLD, there\nis no need of returning to it here further than to remind our readers\nthat the moral training of Catholic children in public institutions is\nutterly unprovided for. Our main questions now are: What do our public\ninstitutions do for the public? What do they do for the inmates? How much\ndoes it cost them to do it? Whence does the money that sustains them\ncome, and whither does it go?\n\nIt is far easier to put these questions than to obtain a satisfactory\nanswer to them. Of the fitness of putting them and the importance of\nanswering them fully and fairly no man can doubt. They are equally\nimportant to the public at large, to the State, and to the institutions\nthemselves. It is fitting and right that we know which institutions do\nthe best work in the best way; which merit the support of the public and\nof the State; which, if any, are concerned chiefly about the welfare of\ntheir inmates; which, if any, are concerned chiefly about the welfare of\ntheir officers and directors. Let us see how far the _Fiftieth Annual\nReport of the Managers of the Society for the Reformation of Juvenile\nDelinquents_ may enlighten us on these interesting points.\n\nIn this institution there were received during the year (1874) seven\nhundred and twenty-four children, of whom six hundred and thirty-six\nwere new inmates. The total number in the institution for the year was\none thousand three hundred and eighty-seven. The average figure taken\non which to calculate the year\u2019s expenditure is seven hundred and\nforty. Whence the children come may be inferred from the words of the\nsuperintendent\u2019s report (page 38): \u201cBy its charter the House of Refuge\nis authorized to receive boys under commitment by a magistrate from the\nfirst three judicial districts, and girls from all parts of the State.\nThe age of subjects who may be committed is limited to sixteen years.[90]\nState Prison Inspectors have power to transfer young prisoners from\nSing Sing prison, under seventeen years of age, to this institution, if\nin their judgment they are proper subjects for its discipline.\u2026 Prior\nto 1847 this was the only place, except the prisons, in the State,\nauthorized to receive juvenile delinquents. At that time the Western\nHouse of Refuge was organized at Rochester, and boys from the fourth,\nfifth, sixth, seventh, and eighth judicial districts were directed, by\nthe act under which that institution was organized, to be sent there.\nThe State Prison Inspectors may transfer young prisoners from the State\nprisons of Auburn and Dannemora to the Western House, the same as from\nSing Sing here. The United States courts, sitting within the State,\nmay commit youthful offenders under sixteen years of age to either\ninstitution. The expense for the support of these is paid by the United\nStates government. Girls from all parts of the State are sent to this\nhouse, there being no female department at the Western House.\u201d\n\nThe expenses for support of the (average) seven hundred and forty\nchildren for 1874 amounted to $103,524 23, according to the\nsuperintendent\u2019s report. To defray this, there was contributed in all\n$74,968 61 of public moneys, in the following allotments:\n\n    By Annual Appropriation,                  $40,000 00\n    By Balance Special Appropriation,          10,500 00\n    On account Special Appropriation, 1874,    10,000 00\n    By Board of Education,                      7,468 61\n    By Theatre Licenses,                        7,000 00\n                                             -----------\n                                              $74,968 61\n\nThere is one remark to be made on these figures, which have been copied\nitem by item from the report. They do not tally with the report of the\nState Treasurer. In his report the award to the society is set down as\n$66,500. There is evidently a mistake somewhere. A small item of $6,000\nis missing from the report of the society. Where can it have gone?\nThe president himself, Mr. Edgar Ketchum, endorses the figures of the\nsuperintendent and treasurer. He tells us (page 14) that the receipts for\n1874, \u201cfrom the State Comptroller, annual and special appropriations,\u201d\nare $60,500; but there is that page 34 of the annual report of the State\nTreasurer, which sets it down plumply at $66,500. There will doubtless be\nforthcoming an excellent explanation of this singular discrepancy between\nthe reports. The State Treasurer may have made the mistake; but, if not,\none is permitted to ask, is this the kind of arithmetic taught in the\nSociety for the Reformation of Juvenile Delinquents?\n\nThe remaining deficit is covered by \u201clabor of the inmates\u201d--which is\nrated at $41,594 48--sale of waste articles, etc. There is no mention\nwhatever made of private donations. With an exception that will be noted,\nthere is not a hint at such a thing throughout the sixty-eight pages of\nthe report. If private donations were received at this institution during\nthe year, the donors will search the fiftieth annual report in vain\nfor any account of them. Attention is called to this point, because in\nevery other report examined the private donations have been ample, duly\nacknowledged, and accounted for; but the managers of the Society for the\nReformation of Juvenile Delinquents observe silence on this subject.\n\nLooking to see how the money went, we find the largest item of the\nexpenses set down as $44,521 62, for \u201cfood and provisions.\u201d The next\nlargest item is $34,880 52, for salaries--as nearly as possible one-third\nof the whole expense. This is a very important item. One-third of the\nentire expenses, and considerably over half the net cost for the support\nof the institution during the year, was consumed in salaries. Into the\nvarious other items it is not necessary to go, as in these two by far\nthe largest portion of the expenses is accounted for. The sum of the\nremainder for \u201cclothing,\u201d \u201cfuel and light,\u201d \u201cbedding and furniture,\u201d\n\u201cbooks and stationery for the schools and chapel,\u201d \u201cordinary repairs,\u201d\nand \u201chospital,\u201d amounts only to $27,555 84, or over $7,000 less than the\nsalaries; while \u201call other expenses not included\u201d in what has already\nbeen mentioned amount only to $23,339 23.\n\nAs this is the fiftieth annual report, the managers of the institution\nhave thought it a fitting time to publish a review of the work done\nduring the last half-century and of the cost of its doing. The \u201cfinancial\nstatement for fifty years\u201d informs us that \u201cthe cost for real estate\nand buildings for the use of the institution, including repairs and\nimprovements,\u201d was $745,740 31. This amount was paid \u201cin part by private\nsubscriptions and donations\u201d--the solitary mention to be found of\nanything of the kind throughout the report--and the remainder \u201cby money\nreceived for insurance for loss by fires, money received from sale of\nproperty in Twenty-third Street, New York, and by State appropriations.\u201d\nThe amount of private subscriptions and donations was $38,702 04; thus\nleaving $707,038 27, by far the greater portion of which, it is to be\npresumed, was paid by State appropriations.\n\nSo far for the real estate and buildings for fifty years. Let us now look\nat the cost of support for the same period.\n\nIncluding every item of expense, except for the grounds and buildings,\nthe sum total is $2,106,009 16. Of this $767,189 31 was paid from labor\nof the inmates and sale of articles; the remaining $1,338,819 85 was\npaid \u201cfrom moneys received from appropriations made by the State and by\nthe city of New York, from the licenses of theatres, from the excise and\nmarine funds.\u201d In short, with the exception of the $38,702 04 already\nmentioned as coming from private subscriptions and donations, of the\nmoney received from sale of property in Twenty-third Street, New York,\nand the amount earned by the inmates, the State has covered the entire\nexpenses of the Society for the Reformation of Juvenile Delinquents\nsince its founding, fifty years ago. Those expenses, according to their\nown showing, were $2,045,868 12. Thus it is within the truth to say that\nthis society has received $2,000,000 from the State within the last fifty\nyears, one-third of which amount, if the figures for last year be a fair\ngauge, was consumed in salaries.\n\nSuch has been the cost--a weighty one. What is the result? What has been\nachieved by this immense outlay?--for immense it is. We are informed (p.\n39) that \u201cwhen a child is dismissed from the house, an entry is made\nunder the history, giving the name, residence, and occupation of the\nperson into whose care the boy or girl is given. Pains are taken, by\ncorrespondence and otherwise, to keep informed of their subsequent career\nas far as possible, and such information when received, whether favorable\nor unfavorable, is noted under the history.\u201d\n\nThe result may be given briefly: Fifteen thousand seven hundred and\nninety-one children have passed through the institution in fifty years.\nOf these thirty-eight per cent. have been heard from \u201cfavorably,\u201d\nfourteen per cent. \u201cunfavorably,\u201d while forty-eight per cent. are\nclassified as \u201cunknown.\u201d Thus it is seen that not nearly one-half have\nturned out well; a very considerable number have turned out badly; and of\na larger number than either--of almost half, in fact--nothing is known.\nAnd it has taken about three millions of dollars (a far higher figure if\nthe private donations, of which no account is given, ranked for anything)\nto achieve this magnificent result!\n\nWe have only one comment to offer. If, with the practically unlimited\nmeans at their disposal, the managers of the society can do nothing\nbetter for and with the children than they have done after fifty years\nof trial, the experiment is, to say the least, a costly failure. Indeed,\nit is not at all extravagant to assert that, taking into consideration\nthe migratory habits of our people and the ups and downs of life, these\nchildren, if allowed to run their own course, would, were it possible\nto follow up their histories, probably show as high a percentage of\n\u201cfavorable\u201d as this society has been able to show. In the proud words of\nthe superintendent\u2019s report, \u201cThe results of half a century of labor in\nthe cause of God and humanity are now before us!\u201d[91]\n\nAn institution similar to the one just examined is the New York Juvenile\nAsylum, whose _Twenty-second Annual Report_ is published. Unlike its\npredecessor, it acknowledges \u201cthe readiness with which the necessary\nfunds, beyond those received from the public treasury, are supplemented\nby private beneficence.\u201d It has a Western agency, whose business it is\nto \u201cprocure suitable homes for children placed under indenture, and\nconduct the responsible work of perpetuated guardianship, which forms the\ndistinguishing feature of our chartered obligations\u201d (_Report_, p. 12).\nWe are informed that \u201can analysis of the treasurer\u2019s report confirms the\nuniform experience of the board, that the appropriations from the city\ntreasury of $110, and from the Board of Education of about $13 50, per\nannum, for each child, are inadequate to the support of the institution\non its present required scale of superior excellence.\u201d\n\nThe treasurer\u2019s report is a study. The expenses for the year (1874) were\n$95,976 83. Of this sum $67,452 05 is set down plumply as for \u201csalaries,\nwages, supplies, etc., for Asylum.\u201d How much of it was devoted to\n\u201csalaries,\u201d how much to \u201cwages,\u201d how much to \u201csupplies,\u201d and how much to\n\u201cetc.,\u201d whatever that financial mystery may mean, is left to conjecture.\nA similar entry for the House (connected with the asylum) amounts to\n$16,875 59; and a third, for the Western agency, to $5,303 18. By this\nhappy arrangement there only remain some two thousand odd dollars to be\naccounted for, and the balance-sheet pleasantly closes, leaving the\nreader as wise as ever on the important query, Who gets the lion\u2019s share\nof the money, the children or the managers?\n\nTo cover the expenses of the year, the corporation gave $68,899 40; the\nBoard of Education, $8,833 23. Thus public moneys covered the great bulk\nof the annual expense. The carefully-confused figures of the treasurer\nmake it impossible to say whether or not a judicious paring of the\n\u201csalaries, wages, etc.,\u201d might not have enabled the same moneys to cover\nit all and still leave a balance in the bank.\n\nAs it is hopeless to investigate how the money went, item by item, let us\nturn to the children for whose benefit it was given.\n\nThe whole number in the Asylum and House of Reception at the beginning of\nthe year was 617; received during the year, 581; discharged, 585; average\nfor the year, 617. Of the discharged, 9 were indentured, 103 sent to the\nWestern agency, 466 discharged to parents and friends.\n\nThe managers are very strongly in favor of placing the children in\n\u201cWestern homes,\u201d and doubtless most persons interested in the question\nof caring for these children would agree with them, could satisfactory\nevidence only be given of the actual advantages of the plan. But such\nevidence is not furnished by any of the reports we have examined. This\nasylum, for instance, has been sending children West year after year, and\nyet the superintendent informs us, as a piece of special news, that \u201cin\nthe early part of November last the superintendent went to Illinois, for\nthe purpose of becoming better acquainted with the practical workings of\nthe agency, and visiting the children sent West in their new homes.\u201d\nThis is given as an event in the workings of the institution. In other\nwords, the children sent out were left absolutely to the Western agent,\nwho may have been a very worthy and conscientious person, or who may have\nbeen nothing of the kind. The amount expended on the Western agency would\nnot seem to indicate any very extensive or arduous labors. The result\nof the superintendent\u2019s trip was a visitation of twenty-five children,\nand, on the strength of that very limited number of visits and the\nrepresentations of the agent, he states that \u201cit was evident that great\ncare was taken and good judgment exercised in providing children with the\nbest of homes and looking after their general welfare.\u201d\n\nThe Western agent himself reports: \u201cFor sixteen years the Asylum has\nbeen sending to Illinois, and placing in families as apprentices,\nthose who have become permanently its wards, and during that time two\nthousand three hundred and ninety-nine have been thus cared for. Their\nemployers have been required to make a legal contract in writing, binding\nthemselves to provide suitably for their physical comfort during their\nminority, instruct them in a specified trade, allow them to attend school\nfour months in each year, _give them moral and religious training_,\nand make a stipulated payment of clothing and money at the expiration\nof their apprenticeship.\u2026 The Asylum is required by its charter to see\nthat the terms of every contract are faithfully performed throughout the\nentire period of the apprenticeship.\u201d\n\nOf course these conditions are very favorable to the children, provided\nonly that they are carried out. That they are always carried out is\ndoubtful, and the number of complaints made by both children and\nemployers, mentioned incidentally, tend to strengthen this doubt. Then as\nregards the \u201cmoral and religious training\u201d: What in the case of Catholic\nchildren such training is likely to be may be inferred from the fact that\nthe Catholic religion is proscribed in the Asylum and House, as also from\nthe fact mentioned by the agent himself (p. 42) that among the employers\n\u201cprejudiced against indentures,\u201d \u201coccasionally one objects to them _on\nthe ground of conscientious scruples_;\u201d \u201cbut,\u201d he adds, \u201cit rarely occurs\nthat they cannot be prevailed upon to comply with our regulations in this\nparticular.\u201d\n\nWhat the Western \u201cHome\u201d is may be judged from the following pregnant\nsentence of the agent\u2019s report: \u201cI am not instructed by the committee,\nnor would it be well to make it an attractive rendezvous, and the\nchildren are neither drawn to it by factitious allurements nor encouraged\nto make a protracted stay.\u201d The unsolicited testimony on this point may\nbe taken as unimpeachable. He admits that \u201cinstances of wrongs frequently\ncome to our knowledge, and doubtless many others exist of which we\nhave not been made aware.\u201d Accordingly, \u201cto prevent such abuses,\u201d \u201can\nadditional agent has _recently_ been engaged, who will be employed\nexclusively as a visitor.\u201d This additional agent commenced service\n\u201cabout five weeks\u201d from the date of the Western agent\u2019s report; but\n\u201cunprecedentedly stormy weather and difficult travelling have rendered it\nimpossible for him to enter upon his special work.\u201d And such is all the\npractical information furnished us concerning the Western branch of this\ninstitution, notwithstanding that \u201cevery employer and every apprentice is\n_written to_ at least once annually.\u201d\n\nThe report of the agent tells us really little or nothing. Indeed, its\ntone is not at all sanguine. His \u201ctime has been too fully occupied to\naccomplish much in the way of gathering statistics of what is, in my\nbelief, a demonstrable fact: that, with as few exceptions as occur among\nother children, asylum wards become reputable and prosperous citizens.\u201d\nNo doubt; proof will be given afterwards that this belief is well\nfounded, but not as regards the institution in question. In its case,\nunfortunately, the demonstration is the one thing wanting.\n\nThe total number of children admitted to the institution from 1853 to\n1873 is 17,035, of whom 12,975 were of native, 3,820 of foreign birth.\nIreland contributed 2,006; France, 71; Spain, 6; Italy, 75; South\nAmerica, 5; Austria, 5; all of whom may be safely classed as Catholics.\nOf the native-born New York alone contributed eleven thousand five\nhundred and seventy-one, all the other States together adding only one\nthousand three hundred and ninety-six. The number of native-born children\nof Irish parents in the State of New York within the last twenty years\nmay be left to easy conjecture. One thing is certain: that the faith of\nall the Catholic children admitted to this institution was, while they\nremained in it, and as long as they remained under its supervision,\nproscribed, while they were compelled to conform to the Church\nEstablished in Public Institutions. There is no financial statement for\nthe twenty years.\n\nThe Children\u2019s Aid Society has also published its _Twenty-second Annual\nReport_. This is one of the most extensive organizations in the city,\nand has quite a net-work of homes, lodging-houses, and industrial\nschools connected with it, as well as a Western agency similar in its\noffice to that already noticed. Although not, in the accepted sense, a\n\u201cpublic institution,\u201d it depends in a great measure on State aid for its\nsupport. It professes to be superior in its mode of work to any public\ninstitution. That point is too extensive to enter upon here. We merely\npursue our plan of searching its own record to see what it has done.\nOne of its chief aims may be gathered from the following statement of\nthe report (page 4): \u201cThe plan which this society has followed out so\npersistently during twenty-two years, of saving the vagrant and neglected\nchildren of the city, by placing them in carefully-selected homes in\nthe West and in the rural districts, is now universally admitted to be\nsuccessful. It has not cost one-tenth part of the expense which a plan\ndemanding support in public institutions would have done, and has been\nattended by wonderfully encouraging moral and material results.\u201d\n\nAs it is impossible within present limits to examine every detail of\nthis extensive report, which fills 96 pages, we pass at once to the\ntreasurer\u2019s figures. The expenses for the past year amount to $225,747\n92. To cover this the city and county of New York contributed $93,333\n34; the Board of Education, $32,893 95; being a total of $126,227 29\ncontributed from the public moneys. The rest is made up by private\ndonations, legacies etc.\n\nAs an illustration of the difficulties to be met with in trying to\nextract the gist of the various reports, the following sentence from the\none in hand may serve. In describing \u201cthe year\u2019s work\u201d the superintendent\nsays (p. 8): \u201cThe labors of charity of this society have become so\nextended and multifarious that it is exceedingly difficult to give any\nsatisfactory picture of them.\u201d If this is his opinion, what is ours\nlikely to be? However, we will make such use of the limited means at our\ndisposal as may tend to give some idea of the workings of this society.\n\nThe \u201cindustrial schools\u201d constitute a prominent feature of it. There are\ntwenty-one of them and thirteen night schools. They give occupation to\neighty-six salaried teachers and a superintendent, and to a volunteer\ncorps of seventy ladies in addition. The volunteers, we are informed,\n\u201cproduce results of which they have no adequate idea themselves.\u201d The\nindustries taught in these \u201cindustrial schools\u201d are not brought out very\nprominently. The army of teachers, regulars and volunteers together,\nhave acted upon \u201can average number\u201d of 3,556, and an aggregate number\nof 10,288. Dropping the volunteers, that gives each of the eighty-six\n\u201csalaried teachers\u201d just 41 and the 30/86th part of a child to devote his\nor her sole attention to during the year. It is for these schools that\nthe Board of Education awarded the $32,893 95 already mentioned.\n\nThe schools alone consume of the whole expenses of the society for the\nyear $70,509 88, which is divided in the following pleasing manner:\n\n    Rent of school-rooms,                         $11,455 25\n    Salaries of superintendent and 86 teachers,    39,202 33\n    Food, clothing, fuel, etc.,                    19,852 30\n\nThat is to say, the salaries of the school superintendent and 86 teachers\nfor 3,556 children cost considerably more than rent, food, clothing,\nfuel, children, and everything else put together. This is worse even\nthan the Society for the Reformation of Juvenile Delinquents, whose\nofficers were modestly contented with a good third of the whole amount\nof money spent on the institution. But here at the present ratio more\nthan one-half is absorbed in salaries. The public seems to labor under an\nidea that the institutions which they so cheerfully support are intended\nchiefly for the benefit of poor children. It is to be hoped that their\neyes may at last be opened to their fatal mistake. At all events, in\nthe present instance it is clear that the schools are less intended to\ninstruct the children than to support the teachers. The very liberal\nallowance granted to these schools by the Board of Education falls\nmiserably below the teachers\u2019 salaries.\n\nThe cheerfulness with which these figures are contemplated by the\nofficers of the society is positively exhilarating. We are informed (p.\n45) that \u201cthe annual expense of twenty-one day and thirteen evening\nschools, with salaries of superintendent and eighty-six teachers,\nwould be an intolerable burden to the society, did not the city pay\nsemi-annually a certain sum for each pupil, as allowed by law.\u201d The\nnumber of pupils paid for by the city is, of course, 10,288--\u201ca gain over\nlast year of 704.\u201d Here is a sample of how the list is made up:\n\n                                 No. on   Average\n                                 Rolls.  Attend\u2019ce.\n    Fifty-third Street School,   1,212     260\n    Fifty-second Street School,    561     199\n    Park School,                   807     301\n    Phelps School,                 417      80\n    Girls\u2019 Industrial School,      298      91\n    Fourteenth Ward School,        650     219\n    Water Street School,           101      31\n\nAnd so they go on. Comment is unnecessary. It is to be taken for granted\nthat the average attendance here given by the society is not likely to\nbe below the mark. Taking it then as correct, it may be left to honest\nmen to judge whether half the number of teachers would not be amply\nsufficient. As to the question of salaries, it is needless to remark\nfurther upon that. Who can resist the piteous appeal of the treasurer\nafter closing the account of the \u201cthirty-four\u201d schools? \u201cSurely, then,\u201d\nhe says, \u201cthis branch of the society\u2019s work may claim the merit of\neconomy when considered in detail, although the aggregate cost is large.\u201d\n\nMention of salaries occurs twice after. Five \u201cexecutive officers\u201d are\npaid $8,944 14; five \u201cvisitors,\u201d $3,944 06. The total \u201ccurrent expenses\u201d\nare set down at $174,821 38. Thus, as seen, salaries already absorb more\nthan a quarter of the current expenses, and the chief salaried officers\nof the institution, as well as another small army of inferior officials,\nremain to be portioned off. No mention is made of them in the treasurer\u2019s\nfigures. Nor will it do to average the salaries of the superintendent\nand eighty-six teachers of the schools, setting them down at the modest\nallowance of $450 a head, granting, as seems incredible, considering\nthe number of pupils, that the number of teachers is accurately given.\nThe point is plain to all men: There is no need for such a number of\nteachers. Some of them, it is to be presumed, are only employed in\nthe night-schools; consequently their salaries would be considerably\ndiminished. The salaries are not all equal, and, even were they all\nequal, the amount of work done would be too costly at the price. To say\nthat twenty-one schools and eighty-seven teachers, with a contingent of\nseventy volunteers, are needed for 3,446 children is simple nonsense.\n\nJudging by what we have seen, if one-fourth the moneys spent on the\nChildren\u2019s Aid Society is devoted exclusively to the children, both\nchildren and public are to be congratulated on the self-denial of the\nmanagement. It is for those who support the society to consider how long\nthis state of things is to continue.\n\nAmong other benevolent works undertaken by the society is an Italian\nschool, for the special benefit of the poor little Italian children\ndecoyed from their homes to labor and beg for _padroni_ and such like in\nthis city and elsewhere throughout the country. There can be no doubt\nabout the religion of these children. The report informs us that this\nschool is under the care of the \u201cItalian School Young Men\u2019s Association.\u201d\nTheir \u201ccollection of books has been enlarged by the contributions of\nfriends, and the reading-room will soon contain a large assortment of\nItalian books forwarded by the Italian government, who, with provident\ncare, watches over our work and furthers the benevolent purposes of the\nChildren\u2019s Aid Society.\u201d\n\nThe object of organizing such a school is evident. There is no incentive\nso effective with the large majority of Protestant hearts, nothing so\nwell calculated to draw contributions from their pockets, as the hope to\n\u201cconvert to Christianity\u201d Papist children. This school is intended for\njust such a purpose, and the society would be the last in the world to\ndeny it. \u201cThe increase of _newly-arrived_ children attests the popularity\nof the school. The benevolence of our patrons continues to make itself\nunceasingly felt in various ways, more especially at the Christmas\nfestival, when the congregation of _the First Presbyterian Church_--Dr.\nPaxton\u2019s--come almost in a body to gladden our children with useful and\nsubstantial gifts, and an outpouring of unmistakable Christian sympathy\u201d\n(page 32).\n\nThe Western agency of this society is on a par with that already\nexamined. The number of miles travelled by the agents is given, as\nalso the number of children placed out. The very names of the agents\nbristle with activity. They are: Messrs. Trott, Skinner, Fry, Brace, and\nGourley. The warm temperament of Mr. Fry, \u201cthe resident Western agent,\u201d\nmay be judged from the opening of his report. He writes from St. Paul,\nMinnesota, under date October 18, 1874, to tell us: \u201cI am up among the\nsaints, and ought to feel encouraged; but it seems such a hopeless task\nto convey to others the happiness and contentment I witness in my rounds\nof visitation that I always commence my annual report with a degree of\nhesitation.\u201d\n\nThere are many passages of equal beauty with this, but unfortunately Mr.\nFry\u2019s pious enthusiasm is not exactly what is called for. What we want\nto know is what has actually been done with the 1,880 boys and the 1,558\ngirls whom we are informed by the report \u201chave been provided with homes\nand employment\u201d during the year. Men and women to the number of 242 and\n305 respectively were sent out also during the year. Of the entire 3,985,\n657 were Irish, 28 French, 13 Italian, 8 Poles, 10 Austrians--all of whom\nmay be set down as Catholics. The \u201cAmerican born\u201d were 1,866, the German,\n879. Of these also a fair percentage were probably Catholic. What has\nbecome of them and of all? What has become of the 36,363 who have been\nsent out in the same manner by the same society since 1853? How many\nprospered? How many failed? How many died? How many turned out well? How\nmany ill? What was done for the Catholic portion of the emigrants? It is\nabsurd to put such questions to Mr. Fry, who is \u201cup among the saints,\u201d\n\u201cwrapped in the third heaven\u201d of S. Paul. A man in such an exalted state\nof terrestrial beatitude cannot be expected to descend to such sublunary\nmatters as those presented. Consequently, Mr. Fry contents himself with\nvague generalities and a few specimen letters of the kind characterized\nat the beginning of this article.\n\nHowever, \u201cMr. Macy and his clerks in the office have kept up, as usual,\na vast correspondence with the thousands of children sent out by us. We\nunfortunately can have room but for a few of the numerous encouraging\nletters that have been received.\u201d We may be permitted to give one, which\nwill explain itself and also what is in store for the Catholic children\ncared for by this society. Needless to say, it does not find a place in\nthe report which we have been examining. It is, however, an authentic\ncopy, as Mr. Macy himself will testify, if necessary.\n\nMr. Macy\u2019s letter, or the letter signed by him, needs a little\nexplanation, most of which will be supplied by the letter from the\n\u201cAmerican Female Guardian Society,\u201d which is also given. The story in\nbrief concerns two Catholic children, a boy and girl, whose mother\nwas dead and whose father was called away to the late war. They fell\ninto the hands of the Female Guardian Society, who handed them over to\nthe Children\u2019s Aid Society to be \u201cprovided with homes in the West\u201d or\nelsewhere. The boy was sent to a Protestant in Dubuque, Iowa, the girl\nto a Methodist family in the State of New York. After returning from the\nwar and coming out of hospital the father was anxious to learn something\nof his children. His efforts were futile until, as said in the letters,\nhe interested the Society of S. Vincent de Paul in the matter. After such\ntrouble as may be imagined the society succeeded in gaining possession of\nthe children. _They had both become, or rather been made, Protestants_,\nand hated the very mention of their religion. The following letters are\nexact copies of the originals:\n\n                    AMERICAN FEMALE GUARDIAN SOCIETY,\n                           29 E. 29th Street,\n                                   and\n                         HOME FOR THE FRIENDLESS\n                          30 E. 30th St., N. Y.\n\n                                                      May 14th, 1874.\n\n    Mr. Wilson:\n\n    DEAR SIR: Very unexpectedly to us, a few days since the father\n    of Edward Nugent, came to the Home, to inquire about his\n    children, we had not seen him for six years, and as he had not\n    even written during that time, we supposed he was dead; he has\n    been in the Hospital it appears most of the time, is lame,\n    having been injured in the feet during the war, he is not able\n    to take care of his children, yet still claims he has a right\n    to know where they are, though _we_ do not feel after all these\n    years he has any claim at all, but we learned something of\n    importance yesterday, which explains why he wants to know the\n    children\u2019s whereabouts, it seems he is a Catholic, and has been\n    to the priests with his story about us whom they call heretics,\n    and the priests have influenced him to demand the children, so\n    we felt it our duty to let you know how the matter stands, for\n    they are very persistent, and may send some one in that part\n    of the country to ask the neighbours around there, if such a\n    boy is in that neighbourhood, and if they can get him, no other\n    way they will steal him, so if you have become attached to the\n    child, and would desire to save his soul from the power of the\n    destroyer of souls, we would say to you it would be better for\n    you to send the boy away for a year from you, that you could\n    say truthfully you do not know where he is; _when fourteen_\n    he can choose his own guardian, then if he chooses you, no\n    power can take him from you. Had he been fully committed to\n    us they would have no right to interfere, but as he was not,\n    they will do all in their power to get him from you, we would\n    feel very sorry to have them find him, as we dread Catholic\n    influence more than the bite of the rattle-snake, for that only\n    destroys the body while the other destroys the immortal soul,\n    too precious to be lost; if you have become attached to that\n    dear boy, save him from the power of the fell-destroyer, and\n    the conscious approving smile of your Heavenly Father will be\n    your reward. I cannot say what course they will pursue, but if\n    you wish the child, you must be very guarded how you act, and\n    must _not_ confide in anyone, not even your own brother what\n    your plans are, act cautiously, but decidedly. Please write\n    immediately on receipt of this, and let us know what your\n    course will be, as we feel the deepest interest in the matter.\n    Yours truly,\n\n                                (Signed)\n\n                                                 MRS. C. SPAULDING,\n                                                 For \u201cHome Managers.\u201d\n\n    Please send Mr. Wilson\u2019s first name.\n\n    [Verbatim copy, even to italics and punctuation.]\n\n\nLETTER NO. II.\n\n                         CHILDREN\u2019S AID SOCIETY,\n                         No. 19 East Fourth St.,\n\n                                            NEW YORK, May 19th, 1874.\n\n    [Writing to Mr. Williams, who had charge of the boy Edward\n    Nugent, in relation to the father of the boy.]\n\n    \u201cHe has recently called at the Home for the Friendless for\n    information in relation to Eddie and has interested the Society\n    of St. Vincent de Paul to hunt up and return Eddie. They have\n    begun to look into the matter and I presume that you will hear\n    from them one of these days. We wrote to you some time ago that\n    you had better have Eddie bound to you by the authorities and\n    hope that you did so. I feel that Eddie has a good home and do\n    not care to have him disturbed. It would be cruel to him and\n    wrong by you and so I trust you will do what you can to prevent\n    it. Please let me hear from him and you.\u201d\n\n                              Yours truly,\n\n                                       (Signed) J. MACY, Asst. Sec\u2019y.\n\nTo comment on the letter of the \u201cFemale Guardians\u201d or the easy\nconscience of the \u201cChildren\u2019s Aid Society\u201d would be \u201cto gild refined\ngold\u201d; certainly, in the case of Mrs. C. Spaulding, \u201cto paint the\nlily.\u201d Honest-minded men of any creed may now understand why it is that\nCatholics who have any faith in their religion at all, who believe it\nin their conscience to be the only true religion, demand in the name of\njustice that associations and institutions of this character be thrown\nopen to the ministers of their religion, or that the State, to prevent\nall that is shameful and horrible in proselytism, imitate all civilized\nstates, and adopt the denominational system of charities, which, as will\nbe shown in the case of Catholics at least, will not only not cost it a\npenny more, but considerably less, and with results astounding in their\ncontrast.\n\nWe have now examined three of our principal institutions with a view to\ntheir cost and results. With the exception of the two letters quoted, no\ninformation has been used which is not presented in public reports. It\nis seen that the Society for Juvenile Delinquents expends one-third of\nits resources in salaries; the Children\u2019s Aid Society, as far as it is\npossible to base an opinion on its loose and incomplete figures, perhaps\nthree-fourths; while the figures of the Juvenile Asylum are too confused\nto allow of any judgment in the matter at all. The results as affecting\nthe children, in the first instance, are avowedly far from satisfactory;\nin the second and third instances no attempt is made to give such\nresults, though the inferences to be drawn from such evidence as is given\nare far from hopeful. And so, unless a radical change is effected in\nthe training and management of the institutions, matters are likely to\ncontinue. The excuse of inexperience in the management cannot hold here\nwith half a century at the back of one and over twenty years at the back\nof the other two. The moral training of the children is in all instances\ndistinctly and avowedly Protestant. As shown sufficiently in a previous\narticle, there is no such thing possible as a religious education which\nis \u201cnon-sectarian.\u201d Consequently, Catholic children, who form a large\ncontingent of the inmates of these institutions, are subjected to a\ncourse of instruction and moral training which is a gross and persistent\nviolation of the rights of conscience and of the constitution of the\nState, and to this training have they been subjected ever since the\ninstitutions were first founded. The only means of adjusting this grave\ndifficulty, of righting this great wrong, is to follow out the plan\nwhich prevails in every civilized country with the exception of our own,\nof either adopting the denominational system, or at least of allowing\nfree access to the clergymen of the religious denomination professed by\nthe children. The means of adjusting the salaries so as to bear a more\nrational proportion to the work done is for the public to consider.\n\nThe effects of the denominational system are exemplified in the New\nYork Catholic Protectory, which has just presented its _Twelfth Annual\nReport_. An examination of its working cannot fail to be instructive,\ninasmuch as it was founded expressly to meet the difficulty noticed\nabove concerning the Catholic inmates of public institutions. From the\nbeginning it has been looked on rather as an enemy than a friend by those\nwho work the engine of the State. At the very least it was regarded as\na suspicious intruder into ground already occupied. It was Catholic,\ntherefore sectarian; therefore not a State institution, and consequently\nnot to be supported by the State. State funds could not go to teach\nCatholic doctrine. But we need not repeat the arguments against it. They\nare too well known, and are met once for all by the provision in the\nconstitution allowing liberty of conscience and freedom of worship to all\nmembers of the State. If moral and religious training be provided for\nchildren in all our public institutions, it is against all conscience,\nlaw, right, and the spirit of the American people at large to convert\nthat moral and religious training into a system of proselytizing, no\nmatter to what creed. In the case of Catholic children such a system, as\nknown and shown, has prevailed from the beginning; and the first step\nin the reformation of a Catholic child has been to seek by every means\npossible to make it a renegade from its faith.\n\nAt the opening of the year there were in the Protectory 1,842 children;\nduring the year 2,877; average (entitled to per capita contributions),\n1,871. To their support all that was contributed of public moneys was\nthe _per capita_ allowance for each child, which is common to all the\nchildren of the institutions examined. Nothing was allowed by the Board\nof Education, although the children are educated; nothing by \u201cspecial\nappropriations\u201d; nothing from \u201ctheatre licenses\u201d; nothing from \u201cexcise\nfunds\u201d--nothing in a word, from any source at all, save the bare _per\ncapita_ allowance.\n\nThis is not an exceptional instance, but the normal relation between\nthe Catholic Protectory and the State. Within the twelve years of its\nexistence the whole amount of State aid received by it, through share of\ncharity fund, special grants, or from whatever source, has amounted to\n$93,502 08--that is to say, at not $8,000 per annum--while its entire\ngrant for building purposes was $100,000.\n\nThe current expenses for the past year were $211,349 87. This includes\nall outlays, except for the construction of buildings or other permanent\nimprovements. The _per capita_ allowance, received from the comptroller\ncovered $192,339 22 of this amount. It is to be borne in mind that this\nallowance would have been paid for the children in any case, whatever\ninstitution they had entered. Consequently, it is no favor at all to\nthe Protectory. The remaining $19,010 65 had to be met by the charity\nof private individuals or not met at all. Of course the labor of the\ninmates and the produce of the farm covered a considerable sum; but the\nage of the children admitted to the Protectory is limited to fourteen\nyears, and the vast majority of them are considerably under fourteen,\nand consequently cannot contribute by their labor so efficiently as the\ninmates of the Society for Juvenile Delinquents, whose average age runs\nso much higher.\n\nBut the expenses by no means ended here. The Protectory is still\nreally in course of erection. The aggregate expenditures during the\npast year for buildings and permanent improvements, \u201call of which were\nindispensable for the carrying out of the mandate of the State in the\nshelter and protection of its wards,\u201d were $107,491 65. To this heavy\nsum State and city contributed nothing at all. The bare _per capita_\nallowance was the only public money received to aid in the sheltering,\neducating, clothing, and feeding of these wards of the State; while to\nall other public institutions, even to institutions not strictly public,\nliberal special grants or appropriations from special funds were made.\nThe Catholic Protectory alone was left to meet a bill of $126,502 30 as\nbest it might.\n\nIn its struggle for existence the Protectory has had little in the\nshape of aid for which to thank the State. There was great fear even\nwithin the present year that the _per capita_ allowance would also be\nwithdrawn, avowedly because the Protectory was a Catholic institution,\nand consequently without the range of assistance from public funds. This\nis highly conscientious, no doubt. But the report of the State Treasurer\nfor the past year shows grant after grant to seminaries and \u201csectarian\u201d\n(to use the orthodox word) institutions of every kind, with the sole\nexception of those professing the Catholic faith. A glance at the whole\nwork done by the Protectory and the aid afforded it by the State shows\nthe following:\n\nIt has been twelve years in existence. Within that period it has\n\u201csheltered, clothed, afforded elementary education, and given instruction\nin useful trades\u201d to 8,771 children. This work cost in the aggregate\nfor current, expenses $1,257,189 41. To this sum the State contributed\nthrough the comptroller out of the city taxes $1,057,578 66. This was\nmerely the _per capita_ allowance still. There remained, consequently,\nfor current expenses $199,610 75 to be paid by whatever means possible.\n\nBut the Protectory had to be built. Land had to be purchased, buildings\nto be erected, and so on. In a word, the Protectory, like all other\ninstitutions, had to grow, while there was a ravenous demand, as there\ncontinues to be, for admission within its walls. In these twelve years\nthe outlays for land, buildings, and other permanent improvements\namounted to $806,211 74. The amount of contracts now being carried to\ncompletion on the girls\u2019 building, new gas-house, etc., is over $100,000.\nTo help to meet this necessary sum of $906,211 74 the State made a\nmunificent grant for building purposes of $100,000; while all its other\ngrants, of whatever kind, amounted to just $93,502 28. This left another\nlittle bill for the Protectory to meet of $912,320 21 by the best means\nit could. Is it to be wondered at that there rests on the institution a\nfloating debt of some $200,000, which seriously threatens its existence?\nOur wonder is, with the encouragement which it has received from the\nState and city, that it continues to exist at all. Private charity has\nbeen its mainstay thus far; but private charity has always an abundance\nof pressing demands on it, and may at any time give out, for the very\nbest of reasons, in a case where there is really no great call for\nprivate charity at all. The children thus cared for, for whom these\nvast sums have been paid, would have had in any case to be supported\nby the State, and would have proved a costlier burden than in their\npresent hands. All we urge is that the State be just; that it assist this\ninstitution in the same manner in which it assists other institutions,\nby grants from the same funds, by appropriations from the same sources,\nwithout cavil about religion or no religion. The crime of instructing\nthese children in their own religion is evidenced in the results\nachieved. Of the 8,771 who have passed through the Protectory since\nits opening, _exactly two have turned out badly_. So much for Catholic\neducation and mental and moral training.\n\nWe have reserved for the last an examination of the salaries. The entire\namount expended on salaries for the officers and employ\u00e9s of every\nbranch of the institution is $20,736 51; that is, between one-tenth and\none-eleventh of the sum total of the current expenses of the year. This\nis the year\u2019s pay of all officials and employ\u00e9s of an institution which\ncared for and sheltered within its walls for that period 2,877 children.\nContrast this with the $34,880 52 paid the officials and employ\u00e9s of the\nSociety for Juvenile Delinquents for the care during the same period of\n1,387 children, and the $39,202 33 paid by the Children\u2019s Aid Society for\nthe teachers of 3,556 children. Contrast the result of the labors of each\nsociety. Then contrast the sums lavished by city and State from special\nappropriations and funds on societies whose chief claim for such special\ngrants consists in their devoting so large a portion of their means\nto salaries, with their persistent deafness to the urgent appeals of a\nsociety which has only good to show everywhere and an army of workers\nsuch as the Brothers and Sisters, whose salary is embraced in their food\nand dress. Let us look at these things, and blush at our pretensions\nto justice and liberality. Why, it is not even honesty. We are too\nconscientious to grant a penny out of the educational fund to Catholic\nchildren educated by Catholics, while we give thousands freely for the\nstowing away of Catholic children in asylums that pervert them and can\ngive no account of their stewardship. It is time to drop \u201cconscience,\u201d\nthat counterfeit so recently and so admirably described by Dr. Newman,\nand fall back on common-sense. Of the institutions here examined the\nCatholic Protectory combines beyond comparison the greatest economy with\nthe most extraordinarily successful results as affecting the wards of\nthe State. Such an institution has a solemn and the truest claim on the\nheartiest co-operation and favor of the State.\n\n\nTHE BLIND BEGGAR.\n\n    I cannot pass those sightless eyes,\n      Or, if I pass them, I return,\n    Led by resistless sympathies\n      Above their rayless orbs to yearn,\n    And place within the outstretched palms\n    The patiently-awaited alms.\n\n    Then, as my footsteps homeward speed.\n      I dare with moving lips to pray\n    That God, who knows my inmost need,\n      May guide me on my darkened way,\n    And place within my outstretched palms\n    The patiently-awaited alms.\n\n\nARE YOU MY WIFE?\n\nBY THE AUTHOR OF \u201cPARIS BEFORE THE WAR,\u201d \u201cNUMBER THIRTEEN,\u201d \u201cPIUS VI.,\u201d\nETC.\n\nCHAPTER V.\n\nAng\u00e9lique was having a field day of it, and there was nothing she liked\nbetter. It was an event when Sir Simon dropped in at The Lilies toward\nsupper-time, and announced his intention of staying to take pot-luck;\nbut this evening\u2019s entertainment was a very different affair from these\nfriendly droppings-in, and Ang\u00e9lique was proportionately flurried. Like\nmost people who have a strong will and a good temper, she was easy to\nlive with; her temper was indeed usually so well controlled that few\nsuspected her of having one. But on occasions like the present they\nwere apt to find out their mistake; it was not safe to come in her way\nwhen she had more than one extra dish on hand. Franceline knew this;\nand after such interference in the way of whipping the eggs and dusting\nthe glass and china as Ang\u00e9lique would tolerate, she took herself off\nto the woods for the remainder of the afternoon. There was a cleared\nspace where the timber had been cut down in spring, and here she settled\nherself on the stem of a felled tree, and opened her book. It can hardly\nhave been a very interesting one; for, after turning over a few pages,\nshe began to look about her, and to listen to the contralto recitative\nof a wood-pigeon with as much attention as if that familiar _dilettante_\nperformance had been some striking novelty. It was not long, however,\nbefore sounds of a very different sort broke on her ear. Some one was\ncrying passionately, filling the wood with shrieks and sobs. Franceline\nstarted to her feet and listened; she could distinguish the shrill\ntreble of a child\u2019s voice, and, hurrying on in the direction from whence\nit proceeded, she soon came upon a little girl, the daughter of a poor\nwoman of the neighborhood, called Widow Bing. The child was lying in a\nheap on the ground, her basketful of school-books and lunch spilt on the\ngrass beside her, while her little body and soul seemed literally torn to\npieces by sobs.\n\n\u201cWhy, Bessy, what\u2019s the matter?\u201d cried Franceline. \u201cHave you hurt\nyourself?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo-o-o-o!\u201d gasped Bessy, without lifting her head.\n\n\u201cHave you broken something?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo-o-o-o!\u201d\n\n\u201cHas anything happened to mammy?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo-o-o, but something\u2019s a-goin to.\u201d And the child raised her head for a\nlouder scream, and let it drop again with a thud on the ground.\n\n\u201cWhat\u2019s going to happen to her? Tell me, there\u2019s a good child,\u201d coaxed\nFranceline, crouching down beside the little, prostrate figure, and\ntrying to make it look up. \u201cIf it hasn\u2019t happened, perhaps it will never\nhappen. I might prevent it, or somebody else might.\u201d\n\nA dim ray of consolation apparently dawned out of this hypothesis on\nBessy\u2019s mind; she lifted her head, and, after suppressing her sobs,\nexclaimed: \u201cMammy\u2019s a-goin\u2019 to be damned, she is!\u201d\n\n\u201cGood gracious, child, what a dreadful thing for you to say!\u201d exclaimed\nFranceline, too much shocked by the announcement to catch the comical\nside of it at once. \u201cWho put such a naughty thing into your head?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s Farmer Griggs as said it. He says as how he knows mammy\u2019s a-goin\u2019\nto be damned!\u201d And the sound of her own words was so dreadful that it\nsent Bessy into a fresh paroxysm, and she shrieked louder than before.\n\n\u201cHe\u2019s a wicked man, and you mustn\u2019t mind him,\u201d said Franceline; \u201che knows\nnothing about it!\u201d\n\n\u201cYe-e-es he does!\u201d insisted Bessy. \u201cHe-e-s not wicked; \u2026 he prea-a-a-ches\nevery Sunday at the cha-a-a-pel, he does.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen he preaches very wicked sermons, I\u2019m sure,\u201d said Franceline, who\nsaw an argument on the wrong side for Farmer Griggs\u2019 sanctity in this\nevidence. \u201cYou must leave off crying and not mind him.\u201d\n\nBut Bessy was not to be comforted by this negative suggestion. She went\non crying passionately, until Franceline, finding that neither scolding\nnor coaxing had the desired effect, threatened to tell Miss Bulpit, and\nhave her left out from the next tea and cake feast; whereupon Bessy\nbrightened up with extraordinary alacrity, gathered up her books and\nher dry bread and apple, and proceeded to trot along by the side of\nFranceline, who soothed her still further by the promise of a piece of\nbread and jam from Ang\u00e9lique, if she gave up crying altogether and told\nher all about mammy and Farmer Griggs. An occasional sob showed every now\nand then that the waters had not quite subsided; but Bessy did her best,\nand before they reached The Lilies she had given in somewhat disjointed\nsentences the following history of the prophecy and what led to it. The\nwidow Bing--who, for motives independent of all theological views, had\nrecently joined the Methodist Connection, of which Farmer Griggs was\na burning and shining light--had been laid up for the last month with\nthe rheumatism, and consequently unable to attend the meeting; but last\nSunday, being a good deal better, though still unequal to toiling up-hill\nto the chapel, which was nearly half an hour\u2019s walk from her cottage,\nshe had compromised matters by going to church, which was within ten\nminutes\u2019 walk of her. This scandal spread quickly through the Connection,\nand was not long coming to Farmer Griggs\u2019 ears, who straightway declared\nthat the widow Bing had thrown in her lot with the transgressors, and\nwas henceforth a castaway whose name should be blotted out. This fearful\ndoom impending over her mother had just been made known to Bessy by\nFarmer Griggs\u2019 boy, who met her tripping along with her basket on her\narm, and singing to herself as she went. The sight of the child\u2019s gayety\nunder such appalling circumstances was not a thing to be tolerated; so\nhe conveyed to Bessy in very comprehensible vernacular the soothing\nintelligence that her mother was \u201ca bad \u2019un as was gone over to the\nparson, as means the devil, and how as folk as was too lazy to come to\nchapel \u2019ud find it \u2019arder a-goin\u2019 down to the bottomless pit, where there\nwas devils and snakes and all manner o\u2019 dreadful things a-blazin\u2019 and\na-burnin\u2019 like anythink!\u201d\n\nAll this Franceline contrived to elicit from Bessy by the time they\nreached The Lilies, where they found Miss Merrywig sitting outside the\nkitchen-window in high confabulation with Ang\u00e9lique, busy inside at her\nwork. The day was intensely hot, and the sun was still high enough to\nmake shade a necessity of existence for everybody except cats and bees;\nbut there sat Miss Merrywig under the scorching glare, with a large\nchinchilla muff in her lap.\n\n\u201cA muff!\u201d cried Franceline, standing aghast before the old lady. \u201cDear\nMiss Merrywig, you don\u2019t mean to say you want it on such a day as this!\nWhy, it suffocates one to look at it.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, my dear, just so. As you say, it suffocates one to look at it,\u201d\nassented Miss Merrywig, \u201cand I assure you I didn\u2019t find it at _all_\ncomfortable carrying it to-day; but I _only_ bought it yesterday, and I\nwanted to let Ang\u00e9lique see it and hear her opinion on it, you see. I\nwent in to Newford yesterday, and they were selling off at Whilton\u2019s, the\nfurrier\u2019s, and this muff struck me as _such_ a bargain that I thought I\ncould _not_ do better than take it. Now, what _do_ you think I gave for\nit? Don\u2019t _you_ say anything, Ang\u00e9lique; I want to hear what mademoiselle\nwill say herself. Now, just look well at it. Remember how hot the weather\nis; as you say, the sight of fur suffocates one, and that makes _such_\na difference. My dear mother used to say--and she _was_ a judge of fur,\nyou know; she made a voyage to Sweden with my father in poor dear old Sir\nHans Neville\u2019s yacht, and that gave her such a knowledge of furs--you\nknow Sweden _is_ a great place for all sorts of furs--well, she used to\nsay, \u2018If you want the value of your money in fur, buy it in the summer.\u2019\nI only just mention that to show you. But you can see for yourself\nwhether I got the full value in this one. You see it is lined with\nsatin--and such splendid satin! As thick as a board, and _so_ glossy! And\nit\u2019s silk all through. I just ripped a bit here at the edge to see if it\nwas a cotton back; but it\u2019s all pure silk. The young man of the shop was\nso _extremely_ polite, and _so_ anxious I should understand that it _was_\na bargain, he called my attention to the quality of the satin--which was\n_really_ very kind of him; for of course that didn\u2019t matter to _him_.\nBut they are wonderfully civil at Whilton\u2019s. I remember buying some\nswan\u2019s-down to trim a dress when I was a girl and I was bridesmaid to\nLady Arabella Wywillyn--they lived at the Grange then--and it _was_,\nI must say, a most excellent piece of swan\u2019s-down, and cleaned like\nnew. I asked the young man if he remembered it--I meant, of course, the\nmarriage. Dear me, what a sensation it did make! But he did not, which\nwas of course natural, as it was long before he was born; but I thought\nhe might have heard the old people of the place speak of it. Well, now\nthat you\u2019ve examined it, tell me, what _do_ you think I gave for it?\u201d\n\nFranceline was hovering on the brink of a guess, when Ang\u00e9lique, who had\nreturned to her saucepans, suddenly reappeared at the window, and, spying\nBessy\u2019s red face staring with all its eyes at the chinchilla muff--which\nlooked uncommonly like a live thing that might bite if the fancy took it,\nand was best considered from a respectful distance--called out: \u201cWhat\u2019s\nthat child doing there?\u201d Franceline, thankful for the timely rescue,\nbegan to pour out volubly in French the story of Farmer Griggs and the\nwidow Bing.\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s a shame these sort of people _should_ be allowed to terrify the\npoor people,\u201d said Miss Merrywig when she had taken it all in. \u201cI\n_wonder_ the vicar does not do something. He _ought_ to take steps to\nstop it; there\u2019s no saying what _may_ be the end of it. But dear Mr.\nLangrove is _so_ kind and so _very_ much afraid of annoying anybody!\u201d\n\nWhile Miss Merrywig was delivering this opinion Ang\u00e9lique was making good\nthe bread-and-jam promise for Bessy, who stood watching the operation\nwith distended eyes through the open window, and saw with satisfaction\nthat the grenadier was laying on the jam very thick.\n\n\u201cNow, you\u2019re not going to cry any more, and you\u2019re going to be a good\ngirl?\u201d said Franceline before she let Bessy seize the tempting slice that\nAng\u00e9lique held out to her.\n\nBessy promised unhesitatingly.\n\n\u201cStop a minute,\u201d said Franceline, as the child stretched up on tiptoe\nto clutch the prize. \u201cYou must not repeat to poor, sick mammy what that\nnaughty boy said to you. Do you promise?\u201d But the proximity of bread\nand jam was not potent enough to hurry Bessy into committing herself\nto this rash promise. What between the sudden vision of \u201cdevils and\nsnakes a-blazin\u2019 and a-burnin\u2019\u201d which the demand conjured up again, and\nwhat between the dread of seeing the bread and jam snatched away by the\ngrenadier, who stood there, brown and terrible, waiting a signal from\nFranceline, her feelings were too much for her; there was a preparatory\nsigh and a sob, and down streamed the tears again.\n\n\u201cI\u2019d better go home with her, and tell the poor woman myself,\u201d said\nFranceline, appealing to Miss Merrywig.\n\n\u201cYes, you come \u2019ome and tell mammy!\u201d sobbed the child, who seemed to have\nsome vague belief in Franceline\u2019s power to avert the threatened doom.\n\n\u201cI dare say that will be the safest way, and I\u2019m sure it\u2019s the kindest,\u201d\nsaid Miss Merrywig; \u201cbut it _will_ be a dreadfully hot walk for you on\nthe road, my dear, with _no_ shelter but your sunshade. I had better go\n_with_ you. I don\u2019t mind the heat; you see I\u2019m _used_ to it.\u201d Franceline\ncould not exactly see how this fact of Miss Merrywig\u2019s company would\nlessen the heat to her; but it was meant in kindness, so she assented.\nThe meadowlands went flowering down to the river, richly planted with\nfine old trees, and only separated from the garden and its adjoining\nfields by an invisible iron rail, so that the little cottage looked as if\nit were in the centre of a great private park. A short cut through the\nfields took you out on the road in a few minutes, and the trio had not\ngone far when they saw Mr. Langrove walking at a brisk pace on before\nthem, his umbrella tilted to one side to screen him from the sun, that\nwas striking him obliquely on the right ear. Franceline clapped her hands\nand called out, and they soon came up to him.\n\n\u201cWhat are you doing down here, may I ask? Having your face burned, eh?\u201d\nsaid the vicar familiarly.\n\nFranceline burst out with her story at once. The vicar made a short,\nimpatient gesture, and they all walked on together, Bessy holding fast by\nFranceline\u2019s gown with one hand, while the other was doing duty with the\nbread and jam.\n\n\u201cReally, my _dear_ Mr. Langrove,\u201d broke in Miss Merrywig, \u201cyou _ought_\nto take steps; excuse me for saying so, but you _really_ ought. It\u2019s\nquite dreadful to think of the man\u2019s frightening the poor people in this\nway. You really _should_ put a stop to it.\u201d\n\n\u201cMy good lady,\u201d replied the vicar, \u201cif you can tell me how it\u2019s to be\ndone, there\u2019s nothing will give me greater pleasure.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, of course you know best; but it seems to me something ought to\nbe done. The poor people are all falling into dissent as fast as they\ncan; it\u2019s quite melancholy to think of it--it _really_ is. You\u2019ll excuse\nme for saying so--for it must be _very_ painful to your feelings, and I\nnever _do_ interfere with what doesn\u2019t concern me; though of course what\nconcerns you, as our pastor, and the Church of England, _does_ concern\nus, all of us--but I really think you _are_ too forbearing. You ought to\nenforce your authority a _little_ more strictly.\u201d\n\n\u201cAuthority!\u201d echoed the vicar with a mild, ironical laugh. \u201cWhat\nauthority have I to enforce? Show me that first!\u201d\n\n\u201cDear _me_! But an ordained minister of the church, the church of the\nrealm--surely, _that_ gives you authority?\u201d\n\n\u201cJust as much as you and other members of the church choose to accredit\nme with, and no more,\u201d said Mr. Langrove, with as much bitterness in\nthe emphasis as he was capable of. \u201cIf Griggs thinks fit to set himself\nup as a preacher, and every man, woman, and child in my parish choose\nto desert me and go over to him, I can no more prevent them than I can\nprevent their buying their sugar at market instead of getting it from the\ngrocers.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd who is Monsieur Greegs?\u201d inquired Franceline, who was backward in\ngossip, and knew few of the local notabilities except by sight.\n\n\u201cMonsieur Griggs is a very respectable farmer, a shrewd judge of cattle,\nwho knows a great deal about the relative merits of short-horns and the\nDevonshire breed, and all about pigs and poultry,\u201d said the vicar with\nmild sarcasm.\n\n\u201cAnd he is a minister too!\u201d\n\n\u201cAfter a fashion. He elected himself to the office, and it would seem\nhe has plenty of followers. He started services on week-days when he\nfound that I had commenced having them on Fridays, and drew away the\nvery portion of the congregation they were specially intended for; and\nhe preaches on Sundays. You have a sample of his style here,\u201d nodding at\nBessy, who was licking her fingers with great gusto, having finished her\nlast mouthful.\n\n\u201cIs it not dreadful!\u201d exclaimed Miss Merrywig. \u201cAnd the people _are_ so\ninfatuated; they actually tell me that they understand this man better\nthan their clergymen, that he speaks plainer to them, and understands\nbetter what they want, and that sort of thing. They don\u2019t care about\ndoctrine, you see, or controversy; they like to be talked to in a kind\nof conversational way by one of their own class who speaks bad grammar\nlike themselves. They tell you to your face that they don\u2019t understand\nthe clergyman--I assure you they do; that his sermons are too learned,\nand only fit for gentle folk. You see they _are_ so ignorant, the poor\npeople! It\u2019s very melancholy to think of.\u201d\n\n\u201cThey like better to be told they\u2019ll go to hell and be damned, if they\ngo to their own church; they ought not to be allowed to go to hear such\nthings. I\u2019ll speak to widow Bing, and make her promise me she\u2019ll never go\nthere again,\u201d said Franceline peremptorily.\n\n\u201cNo, no, my dear child; you mustn\u2019t do anything of the kind,\u201d said the\nvicar quickly. \u201cNo one has a right to meddle with the people in these\nthings; if she likes to go to the dissenters, no one can prevent her.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut if she was fond of going into the gin-shop and getting tipsy, you\u2019d\nhave a right to meddle and to prevent her, would you not?\u201d inquired\nFranceline.\n\n\u201cThat\u2019s a different thing,\u201d said the vicar, who in his own mind thought\nthe parallel was not so very wide of the mark.\n\n\u201cI can\u2019t see it,\u201d protested Franceline with an expressive shrug. \u201cIf you\nhave a right to prevent their bodies from getting tipsy, and killing\nthemselves or somebody else perhaps, why not their souls?\u201d\n\nThe vicar laughed a complacent little laugh at this cogent reasoning of\nhis young friend. \u201cUnfortunately,\u201d he said, \u201cwe have no authority for\ninterfering with people in the management of their souls in this country.\nSuch a proceeding would be quite unconstitutional; the state only\nlegislates for the salvation of their bodies.\u201d\n\n\u201cDear me, just _so_!\u201d ejaculated Miss Merrywig. \u201cI remember my dear\nmother telling me that a very clever man--I\u2019m not sure if he _wasn\u2019t_\na member of Parliament, but anyhow he made speeches _in_ public--and\nhe said--I really think it _was_ an electioneering speech just at the\ntime the Catholic Emancipation bill was being passed--that in this\n_free_ country every man had a right to go to the devil his _own_ way.\nHow exceedingly shocking! To think of people\u2019s going to the devil at\nall! But that\u2019s just it. They prefer to go their _own_ way, and, as you\nsay, the law can\u2019t prevent them. It\u2019s entirely a question of personal\ninfluence, you see.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen perhaps Sir Simon could do something,\u201d suggested Franceline; \u201che\u2019s\nmaster here, and he makes everybody do what he likes. Why don\u2019t you speak\nto him, monsieur?\u201d\n\n\u201cHe might do something, perhaps, if anybody could; but, unfortunately, he\ndoes not see it,\u201d observed the vicar.\n\n\u201cI\u2019ll speak to him. I\u2019ll make him see it,\u201d said Franceline, who flew with\na woman\u2019s natural instinct to arbitrary legislation as the readiest mode\nof redressing wrongs, and had, moreover, a strong faith in her own power\nof making Sir Simon \u201csee it.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut is this not rather--of course you know best, only it _does_ strike\nme that it is a case for the bishop\u2019s interference _rather_ than the\nsquire\u2019s,\u201d said Miss Merrywig. She was a remnant of the old times when a\nbishop could hold his own; that was before ritualism came into vogue.\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d cried Franceline, with sudden exultation, \u201cof course it\u2019s the\nbishop who must do it. You ought to write to him, monsieur!\u201d\n\nMr. Langrove smiled. \u201cThe bishop has no more power to interfere with the\nproceedings of my parishioners than you have.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen what has he power to do? What are bishops good for?\u201d demanded the\nobtuse young Papist.\n\nBut Mr. Langrove, being a loyal \u201cchurchman,\u201d was not going to enter\non such slippery, debatable ground as this. He was happily saved from\nthe disagreeable process of beating about the bush for an answer by\nthe fact of their being close by widow Bing\u2019s door, from which there\nissued distinctly a twofold sound as of somebody crying and somebody\nelse exhorting. Bessy no sooner caught it than she swelled the chorus of\nlamentation by breaking forth into a loud cry. If there was any weeping\nto be done, Bessy was not the one to be behindhand. And now she was\nresolved to do her very best; for perhaps the prophecy was already coming\ntrue, and mammy was beginning to be a prey to the snakes and devils.\n\n\u201cStay here and keep that child quiet,\u201d said the vicar hastily. \u201cI hear\nMiss Bulpit\u2019s voice. I had better go in alone.\u201d\n\n\u201cHe is greatly to be pitied, poor Mr. Langrove! I think,\u201d said\nFranceline, as she turned back with Miss Merrywig. \u201cI think you all ought\nto write to the bishop for him.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! that _would_ be a scandal! Besides, you heard him say the bishop\ncould not help him,\u201d said the old lady.\n\n\u201cWhat a blessed thing it is to be a Catholic!\u201d exclaimed Franceline,\nlaughing. \u201c_We_ have no farmers\u2019 boys or anybody else meddling with our\npriests; but then we have the Pope, who settles everything, and everybody\nsubmits. You ought to invite the Pope to come over and deliver you from\nall your troubles!\u201d\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe table was spread on the grass-plot in front of the cottage.\nFranceline had made it pretty with ferns and flowers, and then sat down\nunder the porch, in her white muslin dress and pink sash, to converse\nwith her doves while waiting for Sir Simon and his two friends. Her\ndoves were great company to her; she had been so used to talking to them\never since she was a child, complaining to them of her small griefs and\ntelling them of her little joys, that she came to fancy they understood\nher, and took their plaintive coo or their little crystal laughter as\nan intelligible and sympathetic response. One of the soft-breasted,\nopal-winged little messengers is upon her finger now, clutching the\nsoft white perch sharply enough with its coral claws, and answering\nher caresses with that low, inarticulate sighing that sounds like the\nyearning of an imprisoned spirit. Franceline took some seed out of a box\non the window-sill beside her, and began to feed it out of her hand,\nwatching the little, pearly head bobbing on her palm with a smile of\ntenderest approval. At the sound of footsteps crunching the gravel at the\nback of the cottage she rose, still feeding her dove, to go and meet the\ngentlemen. But there was only one.\n\n\u201cI fear I am before my time,\u201d said Mr. de Winton, \u201cbut I expected to find\nthe others here before me.\u201d (O Clide, Clide! what prevarication is this?)\n\u201cThey went out about half an hour ago, and told me to meet them in the\nBeech walk, where we were to come on together. Have I come too soon?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! not at all,\u201d said the young girl graciously; \u201cmy father will come\nout in a moment, and I am not very busy, as you see!\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are fond of animals, I perceive.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnimals! Oh! don\u2019t call my sweet little doves animals,\u201d retorted\nFranceline indignantly. \u201cThat\u2019s worse than papa. When they coo too much\nand disturb him, and I take their part, he always says: \u2018Oh! I\u2019m fond\nof the birds, but they are noisy little things\u2019! The idea of speaking of\nthem as \u2018the birds\u2019! It hurts my feelings very much.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen pray instruct me, so that I may not have the misfortune to do so\ntoo!\u201d entreated Clide. \u201cTell me by what name I must call them.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! you may laugh. I am used to being laughed at about my doves; I don\u2019t\nmind it,\u201d said Franceline with a pretty toss of her small, haughty head.\n\n\u201cI am not laughing at you; I should be very sorry to call anything you\nloved by a name that hurt you,\u201d protested the young man with a warmth\nthat made Franceline look up from her dove at him; the fervor of the\nglance that met her did not cause her to avert her eyes, and brought\nno glow over her face. Three of the doves came flying down from the\nmedlar-tree, scattering the starry-white blossoms in their flight. After\nmaking a few circles in the air, one perched on Franceline\u2019s shoulder,\nand two alighted on her head. Clide thought it was the prettiest picture\nhe had ever seen; and as he watched the soft little creatures nestling\ninto the copper-colored hair, he wondered if this choice of a nest did\nnot betray a little cunning, mingled with their native simplicity. But\nFranceline could not see the performance from this picturesque point of\nview. The two on her head were fighting, each trying to push the other\noff. She put up her hand to chase them away, but the claws of one got\nentangled in her hair, and the more it struggled, the more difficult\nit became to escape. Clide could not but come to her assistance; he\ndisengaged the tenacious rose-leaves very deftly from the glossy meshes,\nand set the prisoner free.\n\n\u201cNaughty little bird!\u201d said Franceline, shaking back her flushed face,\nand smoothing the slightly-dishevelled braids; and then, without a word\nof thanks to her deliverer, or otherwise alluding to the misconduct of\nher pets, she walked on towards the summer-house, and broke out into\nobservations about the beauties of the neighborhood, asking her companion\nwhat he had seen and how he liked the country round Dullerton. She spoke\nEnglish as fluently as a native, with only a slight foreign accentuation\nof the vowels that was too piquant to be a blemish; but every now and\nthen a literal translation reminded you unmistakably that the speaker was\na foreigner.\n\nClide thought the accent and the Gallicisms quite charming; he was,\nhowever, a little startled when the young lady, in pointing out the\nvarious places of the surrounding parts, and telling him who owned them,\ninformed him very gravely that the pretty Mrs. Lawrence, who lived in\nthat Elizabethan house with a clock-tower rising behind the wood, was\nthirty years younger than her rich husband, and had married him for his\n\u201cpropriety,\u201d as she was very poor and had none of her own.\n\nFranceline noticed the undisguised astonishment caused by this\nannouncement, and, blushing up with a little vexation, exclaimed: \u201cI\nmean for his property! You know in French _propri\u00e9t\u00e9_ means property.\u201d\nBut after this she insisted on talking French. Clide protested he liked\nEnglish much better, and vowed that she spoke it in perfection; but it\nwas no use.\n\n\u201cEnglish is too serious for conversation, and too stiff,\u201d said\nFranceline, revenging herself for her blunder on the innocent medium of\nit, as we are all apt to do. \u201cIt is only fit for sermons and speeches. In\nFrench you can talk for an hour without saying anything, and it doesn\u2019t\nmatter. French is like a light, airy little carriage that only wants a\ntouch to send it spinning along, and, once going, it will go on for ever;\nbut English is a stagecoach, stately and top-heavy, and won\u2019t go without\npassengers to steady it and horses to draw it. Foolish thoughts always\nsound so much more foolish in English than in French. People who are not\nserious and wise should always talk French.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! merci, now I see why you insist on my talking it,\u201d said Clide,\nlaughing.\n\n\u201cIt would have been a rash judgment; I could not tell whether you were\nwise or not.\u201d\n\n\u201cI dare say you are right, though it never occurred to me before,\u201d he\nremarked deprecatingly. \u201cOur robust Anglo-Saxon is rather a clumsy\nvehicle for conversation compared with yours.\u201d\n\n\u201cI did not call it clumsy; I said stately,\u201d corrected Franceline.\n\nClide began to fear he was making himself disagreeable; that she was\ntaking a dislike to him. Happily, before he committed himself further,\nM. de la Bourbonais came out and joined them. He was soon followed by\nSir Simon and the admiral, and the little party sat down to Ang\u00e9lique\u2019s\n_chefs-d\u2019\u0153uvre_ under the shade of the medlar-tree, with the doves\nsounding their bugle in the adjoining copse. The sun was setting, and\nsent a stream of orange and rose colored light into the garden and over\nthe group at the table; a breeze came up from the river, fluttering the\nstrawberry leaves and Franceline\u2019s hair, and blowing the heavy scent of\nnew-mown hay into her face. It happened--of course by chance, unless\nthat far-sighted old Ang\u00e9lique had a hand in it--that Clide was seated\nnext to her; and as the leg of the long table made a space between her\nand Sir Simon, it was natural that the two young people should be thrown\non their own resources for conversation, while their elders at the\nother end talked incessantly of old times and people that neither Clide\nnor Franceline cared about. It was the first time in her life that she\nfound herself the object of direct homage and attention from a young\nyet mature man, and the experience was decidedly pleasant. Clide was\ndetermined to efface the bad impression that he imagined he had made, and\nto win Franceline\u2019s good graces or die in the effort. It was not a very\ndifficult task, and the zest with which he set about it proved that it\nwas not a disagreeable one. He bent all the energies of his mind to the\nsole end of interesting and entertaining her, and soon the undisguised\npleasure that shone in the listener\u2019s face showed that he was succeeding.\nWith that instinct which quickens the perception of young gentlemen in\nClide de Winton\u2019s present state of mind, he was not long in hitting upon\nthe subjects that most excited her curiosity. She had never been beyond\nthe woods of Dullerton since she was of an age to observe things, and\nit was like a flight in a balloon over all these far-off countries to\nbe carried there in imagination by the vivid descriptions of one who\nhad seen them all. Clide began to wonder at himself as he went on; he\nhad never suspected himself of such brilliant conversational powers as\nhe was now displaying. He was surprised to see how much the dreamy,\ndark eyes had read about the various countries he spoke of, and what\nan enlightened interest she took in the natural history of each. She\nwanted to know a great deal about the splendid tropical birds that have\nno voices, and about the albatross and other marvellous inhabitants of\nthe skies in far-away lands; and Clide lent himself with the utmost\ncondescension to her catechising. But when he came to talking of Rome and\nthe Catacombs, the eyes kindled with a different sort of interest.\n\n\u201cAnd you saw the very spot where S. Cecilia was buried, and S. Agatha,\nand S. Agnes, who was only thirteen when she was martyred? Oh! how I envy\nyou. I would walk all the way barefooted from this to see those sacred\nplaces. And the Colosseum, where the wild beasts tore the martyrs to\npieces!\u201d She clasped her hands and looked at him with the look of awe and\nwonder that we might bestow on some one who had seen a vision. \u201cAnd the\ntombs of the apostles, and the prison where S. Peter was when the angel\ncame and set him free?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, I saw them all; it was a great privilege,\u201d said Clide, conscious of\nrealizing for the first time how great.\n\n\u201cIndeed it was!\u201d murmured Franceline, as if speaking to herself; then\nsuddenly looking up at him, \u201cDid it not make you long to be a martyr?\u201d\n\nClide hesitated. The temptation to answer \u201cyes\u201d was very strong. The\ndark, appealing eyes were fixed on him with an expression that it was\ndreadful to disappoint; but he was too honest and too proud to steal her\napproval under false colors.\n\n\u201cNo, I am afraid I did not. I saw it all too much from the historical\npoint of view. The triumphs of the Christian heroes were mixed up in\nmy memory with too many classical associations; and even if it had not\nbeen so, I confess that the phase of martyrdom recalled by the Colosseum\nand the Catacombs is not the one to stir my slow heroic pulses. There is\ntoo much of the ghastly physical strife on the one hand, and of wanton\ncruelty on the other; the contemplation rather shocks and harrows than\nstimulates me. I did once feel something like what you describe, but it\nwas not in Rome.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhere was it?\u201d inquired Franceline eagerly.\n\n\u201cIt was in Africa, amongst a tribe of savages. I remember feeling it\nwould be a grand use of a man\u2019s life to devote it to rescuing them from\ntheir deplorable state of mental darkness and physical degradation; and\nthat if one died in the struggle, like Francis Xavier, an outcast on the\nsea-shore, forsaken by every visible helpmate, it would be as noble a\ndeath as a man could wish to die.\u201d\n\n\u201cI wonder you did not follow the impulse,\u201d said Franceline. \u201cYou might\nhave converted thousands of those poor savages, and been a second S.\nFrancis Xavier. It must have been a great struggle not to try it.\u201d\n\nClide did not laugh, but went on gravely dipping his strawberries into\nsugar for a moment, and then said:\n\n\u201cNo, I can\u2019t pretend even to the negative glory of a struggle. I am\nashamed to say the desire was a mere transient caprice. I got the length\nof spending ten days learning the language, and by that time the dirt\nand stupidity and cruelty of the neophytes had done for my apostolic\nvocation; the debased condition of the poor creatures was brought home\nto me so fearfully that I gave it up in disgust. I dare say it was very\ncowardly, very selfish; but, looking back on it, I can\u2019t help feeling\nthat the savages had no great loss. It takes more than an impulse of\nemotional pity to make a hero of the Francis Xavier type; one can\u2019t be an\napostle by mere willing and wishing.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, but one can,\u201d denied Franceline; \u201cthat is just the one kind of hero\nthat it only wants will to be. One cannot be a warrior or a poet, or that\nkind of thing, because that requires genius; but one may be a martyr or\nan apostle simply by willing. Love is the only genius that one wants; it\nwas love that turned the twelve fishermen into apostles and heroes, you\nknow.\u201d\n\n\u201cJust so; but I didn\u2019t love the savages.\u201d\n\n\u201cPerhaps you would if you had tried.\u201d\n\n\u201cDo you think it is possible to love any one by trying?\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, I don\u2019t know; if they were very unhappy and wanted my love very\nmuch, I think I might.\u201d\n\nClide stole a quick glance at her; but Franceline was peeling a pear,\nand evidently an undue portion of her thoughts were concentrated on that\noperation and a care not to let the juice run on her fingers. \u201cThen you\nthink it was very wicked of me not to have loved those savages?\u201d he began\nagain.\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t say it was wicked. If they were so very dirty and cruel, it must\nhave been hard enough; but you might have found another tribe that would\nhave been more lovable, and that wanted quite as much to be civilized and\nconverted--nice, simple savages, like wild flowers or dumb animals, that\nwould have been docile and grateful, perhaps revengeful too; but then\nwhen they were Christians they would have conquered that--\u201d\n\nClide laughed outright.\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t think your vocation for converting the savages is so very much\nsuperior to mine,\u201d he said; \u201cit certainly would not have lived through my\nthree days\u2019 novitiate.\u201d\n\nFranceline looked at him, and laughed too--that clear, ringing laugh of\nhers, that was so contagious; they both felt very young together.\n\n\u201cAnd what was your next vocation?\u201d she asked, perfectly unconscious of\nany indiscretion. \u201cWhat are you going to do now?\u201d\n\n\u201cThis morning my mind was made up to go abroad again in a few days, and\nrecommence my old life of busy idleness; but your father has upset all my\nplans.\u201d\n\n\u201cMy father!\u201d\n\n\u201cYes. It ought not to surprise you much; it is not likely to be the first\ntime that M. de la Bourbonais has proved the good genius of another. He\nwas kind enough to let me talk to him of myself, and to give my folly the\nbenefit of his wisdom; he made me feel that I was leading a very selfish,\ngood-for-nothing sort of life, and showed me how wrong it was; in fact,\nhe did for me what I wanted to do for the savages. He taught me what my\nduty was, and I promised him I would try to do it.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! then perhaps you are going to be a hero after all,\u201d said Franceline,\na gleam of enthusiasm sparkling in her face again.\n\n\u201cI fear not; at least, it will be a very prosaic, humdrum sort of\nheroism. I am going to stay at home, and try to be useful to a few people\nin a quiet way on my own property.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! I am so glad. Then we shall see you again. You\u2019ll be sure to come\nand see Sir Simon sometimes, will you not?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, I will come in any case to see M. de la Bourbonais,\u201d said Clide.\n\u201cHis advice will be invaluable to me; and he was so kind as to promise\nthat he would always be glad to give it to me.\u201d\n\nThe sweet dimples broke out with a blush of pleasure and pride in\nFranceline\u2019s face; it was a delight to her to hear any one speak so of\nher father, and Clide had seen so many wise and clever people in his\ntravels that his admiration and respect implied a great deal. If the\nyoung man had been a Talleyrand bent on attaining some diplomatic end, he\ncould not have displayed greater cunning and tact.\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s a great come down from the grand African scheme, you see,\u201d he\nobserved, laughing; \u201cbut under such good guidance there is no saying what\nI may not achieve. I may turn out a hero in the end.\u201d\n\n\u201cIf you do your duty perfectly, of course you will,\u201d replied Franceline\nconfidently. \u201cPapa says the real heroes are those that do their duty best\nand get no praise for it.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! but I should like a little praise; you would not grudge me a\nlittle now and then if I deserved it?\u201d And the look that accompanied\nthe question would have most fully explained the praise he coveted, if\nFranceline had not been as unlearned in that species of language as one\nof her doves.\n\n\u201cBless me! how beautiful that child is!\u201d said the admiral in a _sotto\nvoce_. \u201cJust look at her color; did you ever see anything to come up to\nit? It reminds me of that tinted Hebe that we went to see together in\nFlorence; you remember, Harness?\u201d\n\nThe excitement of talking had brought an exquisite pink glow into\nFranceline\u2019s cheeks, and made her eyes sparkle with unwonted brilliancy.\nHer father listened to the flattering outburst of the old sailor with a\nbright smile of satisfaction, not venturing to look at Franceline, lest\nhe should betray his acquiescence too palpably.\n\n\u201cAnd she\u2019s the very picture of health too!\u201d remarked the admiral.\n\nAt this Raymond turned and looked at her.\n\n\u201cHow like her mother she is!\u201d said Sir Simon, appealing to him; but he\nhad no sooner uttered the words than he wished himself silent. The smile\ndied immediately out of M. de la Bourbonais\u2019 face, and a sharp spasm of\npain passed over it like a shadow. Sir Simon guessed at once what caused\nit: the bright and delicate color, that the admiral had aptly compared to\nthe transparency of tinted marble, reminded him of Armengarde when death\nhad cast its terrible beauty over her.\n\n\u201cLike her in beauty and in many other things,\u201d resumed the baronet in\na careless, abstracted tone. \u201cBut, happily, Franceline does not know\nwhat delicacy means; she has never known a day\u2019s illness in her life, I\nbelieve.\u201d\n\nBut this reassuring remark did not bring back the smile into the father\u2019s\nface; he fixed his eyes on Franceline with an uneasy glance, as if\nlooking for something that he dreaded to see there.\n\n\u201cShe must find this place dull, pretty little pet,\u201d observed the admiral,\nwho saw nothing to check his admiring comments.\n\n\u201cIt never occurred to me before, but I dare say she does,\u201d assented the\nbaronet; \u201cand she\u2019s old enough now to want a little amusement. We ought\nto have thought of that already, Raymond; but we\u2019re a selfish lot, the\nbest of us. We forget that we were young ourselves once upon a time.\nI\u2019ll tell you what it is, De Winton, we\u2019ll carry the child off one of\nthese days to London, and show her the sights and take her to the opera.\nYou\u2019d like that, Franceline, would you not?\u201d And shifting his chair\nto the other side of the table, he set himself down by her side in an\naffectionate attitude.\n\nThe project was discussed with great animation, Franceline being\nevidently delighted with it.\n\n\u201cMy step-mother was to be in town next week,\u201d said Clide, \u201cand I\u2019m sure\nshe would be very happy to give her services as chaperon, if you have not\nany more privileged person in view.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat\u2019s not a bad idea. I had not thought of that. I\u2019m glad you mentioned\nit. I\u2019ll write to her this very night,\u201d said Sir Simon. \u201cMeantime, it\nstrikes me that it would be a very good thing if you learned to ride,\nMiss Franceline; it\u2019s a disgrace to us all to think of your having\nentered your eighteenth year without being taught this accomplishment. We\nmust set about repairing your neglected education at once. How about a\npony, Clide? Which of the nags would suit best, do you think?\u201d\n\n\u201cI should say Rosebud would be about the nicest you could find for a\nlady; she\u2019s as gentle as a lamb, and as smooth-footed as a cat.\u201d\n\n\u201cRosebud!\u201d echoed M. de La Bourbonais. \u201cMon cher\u2026\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, I think you\u2019re right,\u201d said Sir Simon, completely ignoring the\ninterruption. \u201cRosebud is a gem of a lady\u2019s horse. We\u2019ll have a few\nprivate lessons in the park first, and let her canter over the turf\nbefore we show off in public.\u201d\n\n\u201cMon cher Simon,\u201d broke in Raymond again, \u201cit cannot be thought of.\nFranceline would not like it; she does not care, I assure you.\u2026\u201d\n\n\u201cO petit papa!\u201d cried Franceline with a little, entreating gesture.\n\n\u201cAh! is it so indeed? But, my child, consider\u2026\u201d\n\n\u201cConsider, Monsieur le Philosophe, that you don\u2019t understand the matter\nat all; you just leave it to us to settle, and attend to what De Winton\nis saying to you.\u201d\n\nThis last was a difficult injunction, inasmuch as the admiral was saying\nnothing. \u201cCome along with me out of the reach of busybodies, Franceline,\u201d\nhe continued, and, drawing her arm within his own, they walked off to\nthe summer-house, where Clide, without being invited, followed them.\nThere was a long and most interesting conference, which terminated in\nFranceline\u2019s standing on tiptoe to be kissed by her old friend, and\ndeclaring that it was very naughty of him to spoil her so.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\u201cShow him in,\u201d said the vicar, laying down his pen, and a stout,\nrosy-cheeked, fair-haired young man in corduroys and top-boots was\nushered into the study.\n\n\u201cWell Griggs, I\u2019m glad to see you. Sit down,\u201d said Mr. Langrove in the\nbland, familiar tone of kindness that put simple folk at ease with him\ndirectly. \u201cYou\u2019ve come to consult me on a matter of importance, eh?\u201d\n\n\u201cOf importance,\u201d echoed the farmer, twirling his round hat between his\nknees and contemplating his boots--\u201cof great importance, sir.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, let me hear what it is. If I can help you in any way, you may\ncount upon me,\u201d replied the vicar encouragingly, drawing his chair a\nlittle nearer.\n\n\u201cThank you, I don\u2019t want help,\u201d he said with a significant emphasis. \u201cI\nknow where to look for it when I do,\u201d turning up his eyes sanctimoniously\nto heaven.\n\n\u201cCertainly, that help is ever at hand for us. But what is your business\nwith me?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou\u2019ll not take it amiss if I speak frankly, sir. We can none of us\ndo more than bear testimony to the truth, according to our lights,\u201d\nexplained the farmer; and, Mr. Langrove having by a grave nod acceded to\nthis proposition, he resumed: \u201cYou contradicted yourself in the pulpit\nlast Sunday. It\u2019s been repeated to me that you found fault with my\nteaching concerning faith and works; and so, for sake of them as look to\nme for guidance, I came up to hear what views you held on that head, as\nthe gospel of the day said: \u2018And every man shall be judged according to\nhis works.\u2019 Now, sir, it appears to me the end of the sermon was a flat\ncontradiction of the beginning.\u201d\n\n\u201cCan you name the contradictory passages?\u201d demanded the vicar, after an\nimperceptible start.\n\n\u201cWell, I can\u2019t say as I can,\u201d admitted the farmer; \u201cbut I\u2019d know them if\nI heard them.\u201d\n\nMr. Langrove rose, and took down a large manuscript volume from a shelf\ndirectly over his head. Opening it at random, his eye fell upon the text:\n\u201cLearn of me, for I am meek and humble of heart.\u201d He lingered on it\nfor a second, then turned over the leaves, and, having found the place\nhe wanted, he read aloud the first and last few pages of the preceding\nSunday\u2019s sermon.\n\n\u201cWhere do you see the contradiction?\u201d he inquired, looking up and laying\nhis hand on the page.\n\n\u201cWell, as you read it now, I can\u2019t say it sounds much amiss,\u201d replied Mr.\nGriggs, lifting his feet and bringing them down again with a dubious\nthud. \u201cI expect the fault was in the way of saying it. You don\u2019t speak\nplain enough; if you spoke plainer, folks would most likely understand\nyou better. Many as have joined the Connection say as it was that as\ndrove them to us. They couldn\u2019t understand you; they often came away\npuzzled.\u201d\n\nA transient flush rose and died out in the vicar\u2019s face, and his lips\ntrembled a little. But Farmer Griggs did not notice this; he was looking\nat his boots, and pondering on the wisdom of his own words. Mr. Langrove\nhad been pretty well trained to forbearance of late years, and, though\nhe was too humble-minded and too honest to pretend to be indifferent\nto the humiliating interference he had to suffer, he was surprised to\nfind how keenly he smarted under the present one, and mortified to feel\nhow alive the old man was in him, in spite of the many blows he had\ndealt him. He never, since he was a school-boy, was conscious of such a\nstrong desire to kick a fellow-creature; and this rising movement was no\nsooner strangled by an imperious effort of self-control than it rose up\ninstantaneously in the milder form of an impulse to open the door and\nshow his visitor out. Before this second rebellion of the old man was put\ndown, Farmer Griggs, mistaking the vicar\u2019s momentary silence for a tacit\nacknowledgment of his shortcomings, observed:\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s a solemn thing to break the word; and the plainer and simpler one\nspeaks the better it is for those that hear it, though it mayn\u2019t be such\na credit for them that speak it. There\u2019s them that say you think more\nabout making a fine sermon than doing good to souls--which is no better\nthan spiritual pride. You can\u2019t shut folks\u2019 mouths, no more than you can\nstop the river from running; they will say what they think.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, and that is why we are commanded to think no evil,\u201d rejoined the\nvicar. \u201cWe are too ready to judge of other people\u2019s motives, when in all\nconscience we are hard set enough to judge our own. If we go to church\nto pick holes in the sermon, as you say, we had better stay away. The\npreacher may be a very poor one, but, trust me, while he does his best,\nthose who listen in the right spirit will learn no harm from him; those\nwho have not that spirit would do well to ask for it, and meantime to\nstudy the chapter of S. James on the use of the tongue.\u201d\n\nThe vicar rose, as if to intimate that the audience was at an end.\n\n\u201cWell, there may be something in that,\u201d remarked the farmer, rising\nslowly; \u201cbut, for my own part, I never had much opinion of James. Paul\nis the man; if it hadn\u2019t been for Paul, it\u2019s my belief the whole concern\nwould have been a failure.[92] Good-morning, sir.\u201d And without waiting\nto see the effect of this startling announcement of his private views,\nFarmer Griggs bowed himself out.\n\n\u201cAnd these are the men who take the word out of our mouths! Did he come\nof his own accord, or was he set on to it by Miss Bulpit?\u201d was the\nvicar\u2019s reflection, as he stood watching the farmer\u2019s retreating figure\nfrom the window. \u201cIt is more than I can bear; some steps must be taken.\nIt\u2019s high time for Harness to interfere; it\u2019s too bad of him if he\nrefuses.\u201d\n\nMr. Langrove took up his hat, and went straight to the Court.\n\n\u201cDepend upon it,\u201d said Sir Simon when the clergymen had related the\nrecent interview--\u201cdepend upon it, Griggs is too shy a chap to have done\nit on his own hook; take my word for it, there is a woman at the bottom\nof it.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is just what makes it so serious. Griggs is a poor, ignorant,\nconceited fellow that one can\u2019t feel very angry with; one is more\ninclined to laugh at him and pity him. But it is altogether unpardonable\nin such a person as Miss Bulpit; it\u2019s her being at the bottom of it that\nmakes the case hard on me.\u201d\n\nSir Simon agreed that it was.\n\n\u201cThen what do you advise me to do? What steps are you prepared to take?\u201d\nasked Mr. Langrove.\n\n\u201cMy advice is that we leave her alone,\u201d replied Sir Simon. \u201cWe\u2019re none of\nus a match for womankind. She circumvented me about that bit of ground\nfor the Methodist chapel. She\u2019s too many guns for both of us together,\nLangrove; if you get into a quarrel with the old lady, she\u2019ll raise\nthe parish against you with port wine and flannel shirts, and you\u2019ll\ngo to the wall. After all, why need you worry about it! Let her have\nher say. They love to hear themselves talk, women do; you can\u2019t change\nthem, and you wouldn\u2019t if you could. Come, now, Langrove, you know you\nwouldn\u2019t. Halloo! here\u2019s something to look at!\u201d And he started from his\nsemi-recumbent attitude in the luxurious arm-chair, and went to the open\nwindow. It was a charming sight that met them. Two riders, a lady and a\ngentleman, were cantering over the sward on two magnificent horses, a bay\nand a black.\n\n\u201cIs that Franceline?\u201d exclaimed Mr. Langrove, forgetting, in his surprise\nand admiration, the annoyance of having his grievance pooh-poohed so\nunconcernedly.\n\n\u201cYes. How capitally the little thing holds herself! She only had three\nlessons, and she sits in her saddle as if it were a chair. Let\u2019s come out\nand have a look at them!\u201d\n\nThey stepped on the terrace. But Clide and Franceline were lost to view\nfor a few minutes in the avenue; presently they emerged from the trees\nand came cantering up the lawn, Franceline\u2019s laugh sounding as merry as a\nhunting-horn through the park.\n\n\u201cBravo! Capital! We\u2019ll make a first-rate horse-woman of her by-and-by.\nShe\u2019ll cut out every girl in the county one of these days. And pray who\ngave you leave to assume the duties of riding-master without consulting\nme, sir?\u201d\n\nThis was to Clide, who had sprung off his horse to set something right in\nhis pupil\u2019s saddle and adjust the folds of her habit, which had nothing\namiss that any one else could see.\n\n\u201cThey told me you were engaged, so I did not like to disturb you,\u201d he\nexplained.\n\n\u201cI should very much like to know who told you so,\u201d said Sir Simon, with\noffensive incredulity.\n\n\u201cMy respected uncle is the offender, if offence there be; but now that\nyou are disengaged, perhaps you would like to take a canter with us. I\u2019ll\ngo round and order your horse?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, you sha\u2019n\u2019t. I don\u2019t choose to be taken up second-hand in that\nfashion; you\u2019ll be good enough to walk off to The Lilies, and tell the\ncount I have something very particular to say to him, and I\u2019ll take it as\na favor if he\u2019ll come up at once.\u201d\n\nClide turned his horse\u2019s head in the direction indicated.\n\n\u201cNo, no; you\u2019ll get down and walk there,\u201d said Sir Simon. \u201cIf he sees you\non horseback, he may suspect something, and that would spoil the fun.\u201d\nThe young man alighted, and gave his bridle to be held.\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t see why I shouldn\u2019t hold it in the saddle,\u201d said the baronet\nafter a moment; \u201cand we will take a turn while we\u2019re waiting.\u201d He vaulted\ninto Clide\u2019s vacant seat with the agility of a younger man.\n\n\u201cWell, a pleasant ride to you both!\u201d said Mr. Langrove, moving away. \u201cYou\ndo your master credit, Franceline, whoever he is; and the exercise has\ngiven you a fine color too,\u201d he added, nodding kindly to her.\n\n\u201cOh! it\u2019s enchanting!\u201d cried the young Amazon passionately. \u201cI feel as if\nI had wings; and Rosebud is so gentle!\u201d\n\n\u201cLook here, Langrove,\u201d called out Sir Simon, backing his powerful black\nhorse, and stooping towards the vicar, \u201cdon\u2019t you go worrying yourself\nabout this business; it\u2019s not worth it. They are a parcel of humbugs, the\nwhole lot of them. I know Griggs well--a hot-headed, canting lout that\nwould be much better occupied attending to his pigs. It would never do\nfor a man like you to come into collision with him. Let those that like\nhis fire and brimstone go and take it; you\u2019ve a good riddance of them.\nAnd as to the old lady, keep never minding. You\u2019ll do no good by crossing\nher; she\u2019s a harmless old party as long as you let her have her own way,\nbut if you rouse her there will be the devil to pay.\u201d\n\nM. de la Bourbonais had been kept out of the secret of the riding\nlessons. He had heard nothing more of the scheme since that evening at\nsupper, and, with Ang\u00e9lique in the plot, it required no great diplomacy\nto manage the trying on of the riding habit, that had been made by the\nfirst lady\u2019s dressmaker in London, brought down for the purpose; so that\nthe intended surprise was as complete as Sir Simon and his accomplices\ncould have wished.\n\n\u201cComment donc!\u201d[93] he exclaimed, breaking out into French, as usual\nwhen he was excited. \u201cWhat is this? What do I see? My Clair de lune[94]\nturned into an Amazon!\u201d And he stood at the end of the lawn and beheld\nFranceline careering on her beautiful, thoroughbred pony. \u201cAh! Simon,\nSimon, this is too bad. This is terrible!\u201d he protested, as the baronet\nrode up; but the smile of inexpressible pleasure that shone in his face\ntook all the reproach out of the words.\n\n\u201cLook at her!\u201d cried Sir Simon triumphantly; \u201cdid you ever see any one\ntake to it so quickly? Just see how she sits in her saddle. Stand out of\nthe way a bit, till we have another gallop. Now, Franceline, who\u2019ll be\nback first?\u201d\n\nAnd away they flew, Sir Simon reining in his more powerful steed, so as\nto let Rosebud come in a neck ahead of him.\n\n\u201cSimon, Simon, you are incorrigible! I don\u2019t know what to say to you,\u201d\nsaid Raymond, settling and unsettling the spectacles under his bushy\neyebrows.\n\n\u201cCompliment me; that\u2019s all you need say for the present,\u201d said Sir Simon.\n\u201cSee what a color I\u2019ve brought into her cheeks!\u201d\n\n\u201cO petit p\u00e8re! it is so delightful,\u201d exclaimed Franceline, caressing the\nhand her father had laid on Rosebud\u2019s neck. \u201cI never enjoyed anything so\nmuch. And I\u2019m not the least fatigued; you know you were afraid it would\nfatigue me? And is not Rosebud a beauty? And look at my whip.\u201d And she\nturned the elegant gold-headed handle for his inspection.\n\n\u201cMounted in gold, and with your cipher in turquoise! Ah! you are nicely\nspoiled! Simon, Simon!\u201d What more could he say at such a moment? It would\nhave been odious to show anything but gratitude and pleasure, even if he\nfelt it. This, then, was the end of the earnest midnight conference, and\nthe distinct promise that Rosebud and Nero should be sold! The animal\nthat would have paid half a lawful and urgent debt was to be kept for\nFranceline, and he must sanction the folly; to say nothing of the rigging\nout of that young lady in a complete riding suit of the most expensive\nfashion. Well, well, it was no use protesting now, and it was impossible\nto deny that the exquisitely-fitting habit and the dark beaver hat set\noff her figure and hair in singular perfection. The bright, healthy glow\nof her cheeks, too pleaded irresistibly in extenuation of Sir Simon\u2019s\nextravagance.\n\n\u201cShall we ride down to The Lilies? I should like Ang\u00e9lique to see me. She\nwould be so pleased,\u201d said Franceline, appealing to Sir Simon.\n\n\u201cYou think she would? Silly old woman! very likely; but I want to have\na talk with your father, so Clide must go and take care of you.\u201d And\nthe baronet slipped off his horse, which Mr. de Winton, with exemplary\ndocility, at once mounted. The two young people set off at a canter,\nFranceline turning round to kiss her hand to her father, as they plunged\ninto the trees and were lost to sight.\n\nIt would be useless to attempt to describe the effect of the apparition\non Ang\u00e9lique: how she threw up her hands, and then flattened them between\nher knees, calling all the saints in Paradise to witness if any one had\never seen the like; and how nothing would satisfy her but that they\nshould gallop up and down the field in front for her edification; and the\nastonishment of a flock of sheep which the performance sent scampering\nand bleating in wild dismay backwards and forwards along with them; and\nhow, when Franceline\u2019s hair came undone in the galloping, and fell in\na golden shower down her back, the old woman declared it was the very\nimage of S. Michael on horseback, whom she had seen trampling down the\ndragon in an Assyrian church. When it was all over, and Franceline had\ngone upstairs to change her dress, Clide tied the horses to a tree, and\ncompleted his conquest of the old lady by asking her to show him that\nwonderful casket he had heard so much about. She produced it from its\nhiding-place in M. de la Bourbonais\u2019 room, and, reverently unwrapping\nit, proceeded to tell the story of how the papers had been rescued, and\nhow they had been burned, watching her listener\u2019s face with keen eyes\nall the while, to see if any shadow of scepticism was to be detected in\nit; but Clide was all attention and faith. \u201cThere are people who think\nit clever to laugh at the family for believing in such a story,\u201d she\nobserved; \u201cbut, as I say, when a thing has come down from father to son\nfor nigh four thousand years, it\u2019s hard not to believe in it; and to my\nmind it\u2019s easier to believe it than to think anybody could have had the\nwit to invent it.\u201d And Clide having agreed that no mere human imagination\ncould ever indeed have reached so lofty a flight, Ang\u00e9lique called his\nattention to the ornamentation of the casket. \u201cMonsieur can see how\nunlike anything in our times it is,\u201d pointing to the antediluvian vipers\ncrawling and writhing in the rusty iron; \u201cand all that is typical--the\nsnakes and the birds and the crooked signs--everything is typical, as\nMonsieur le Comte will tell you.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd what is it supposed to typify?\u201d asked Clide, anxious to seem\ninterested.\n\n\u201cAh! I know nothing about that, monsieur!\u201d replied Ang\u00e9lique with a\nshrug; and lest other questions of an equally indiscreet and unreasonable\nnature should follow, she covered up the casket and carried it off.\n\nTO BE CONTINUED.\n\n\n\u201cCHIEFLY AMONG WOMEN.\u201d\n\nBY AN AMERICAN WOMAN.\n\nMr. Gladstone, in his _Political Expostulation_, makes use of the\nfollowing expression in regard to the growth of the Catholic Church in\nEngland: \u201cThe conquests have been chiefly, as might have been expected,\namong women.\u201d That the ex-premier intended this as a statement of fact\nrather than a sneer is very probable; for he evidently endeavors to\nemploy the language of good manners in his controversies, unlike his\npredecessors in polemics during the XVIIth and XVIIIth centuries. The\ndebate between him and his distinguished antagonists in the English\nhierarchy bears, happily, little resemblance to that between John Milton\nand Salmasius concerning the royal rights of Charles I. But that,\nnevertheless, there is a sneer in the quoted expression is scarcely to be\ndenied; and that this sneer had a lodgment in Mr. Gladstone\u2019s mind, and\nescaped thence by a sort of mental wink, if not by his will, is beyond\ndoubt. The pamphlet bears all the internal as well as external marks of\nhaste; it is only a piece of clever \u201cjournalism\u201d--written for a day,\noverturned in a day. \u201cMr. Gladstone lighted a fire on Saturday night\nwhich was put out on Monday morning,\u201d said the London _Tablet_. But the\nsneer, whether wilful or not, stands, and cannot be erased or ignored;\nand it is worth more than a passing consideration. It is an indirect and\nungraceful way of saying that the Catholic Church brings conviction more\nreadily to weaker than to stronger intellects; and that because the\n\u201cconquests\u201d are \u201cchiefly among women,\u201d the progress of the church among\nthe people is not substantial, general, or permanent. We presume that\nthis is a reasonable construction of the expression.\n\nWhether the first of these propositions be true or not is not pertinent\nto the practical question contained in the second. We will only remark,\nin passing it over, that there stands against its verity a formidable\nlist of giant male intellects for which Protestantism and infidelity\nhave failed to furnish a corresponding offset. Students of science and\nliterature and lovers of art will not need to be reminded of the names.\nThat Catholic doctrine is intellectual in the purest and best sense\nthere are the records of nineteen centuries of civilization and letters\nto offer in evidence. But what Mr. Gladstone invites us to discuss is\nthe power of women in propagating religion. In arriving at a correct\nestimate we must review, with what minuteness the limits of an article\nwill permit, the part that women have had in the establishment of\nreligion, the intensity, the earnestness, the zeal, the persistence--for\nthese enter largely into the idea of propagation--with which women have\naccepted and followed the teaching of the church, and the ability they\nhave exhibited and the success they have achieved in the impression of\ntheir convictions upon others. We must take into account the relative\nnatural zealousness of the sexes; for zeal, next to grace, has most to do\nwith the making of \u201cconquests.\u201d We must remember the almost invincible\nweapon which nature has placed in the hands of the weaker sex for\napproaching and controlling men; the beautiful weapon--affection--which\nmother, wife, sister, daughter, wield, and for which very few men know of\nany foil, or against which they would raise one if they did. If we admit,\nto conciliate Mr. Gladstone, that religion is an affair of the heart as\nwell as of the head, he will be gracious enough in return, we apprehend,\nto concede that women must be potential agents in its propagation.\n\nSurely, it is only thoughtlessness which enables well-read men to assign\nto women an insignificant place in the establishment of religion, or\ntheir reading must have been too much on their own side of the line.\nEven the pagans were wiser. They recognized the potency of women with\nan intelligence born of nothing less correct than instinct. Their\nmythological Titans were equally divided as to sex. A woman was their\nmodel of the austerest of virtues--perpetual celibacy. A woman was their\ngoddess of wisdom, and, as opposed to man, the patroness of just and\nhumane warfare. A woman presided over their grain and harvests. Every\nGrecian city maintained sacred fire on an altar dedicated to Vesta, the\nprotectress of the dearest form of human happiness--the domestic. It\nwas from Hebe the gods accepted their nectar. The nine tutelary deities\nof the \u00e6sthetic--the Muses--were women. So were the Fates--who held the\ndistaff, and spun the thread of life, and cut the thread--\n\n    \u201cClotho and Lachesis, whose boundless sway,\n    With Atropos, both men and gods obey.\u201d\n\nSplendor, Joy, and Pleasure were the Graces. It was a woman who first set\nthe example of parental devotion--Rhea concealing from their would-be\ndestroyers the birth of Jupiter, Neptune, and Pluto. It was a woman who\nfirst set the example of conjugal fidelity--Alcestis offering to die\nfor Admetus. It was from a woman\u2019s name, Alcyone, we have our \u201chalcyon\ndays\u201d--Alcyone, who, overcome by grief for her husband, lost at sea,\nthrew herself into the waves, and the gods, to reward their mutual love,\ntransformed them into kingfishers; and when they built their nests, the\nsea is said to have been peaceful in order not to disturb their joys. It\nwas a woman who dared to defy a king in order to perform funeral rites\nover the remains of her brother. It was a woman, Ariadne, who, to save\nher lover, Theseus, furnished him the clew out of the Cretan labyrinth,\nalthough she abolished thereby the tribute her father was wont to extort\nfrom the Athenians. In all that was good, beautiful, and tender, the\npagans held women pre-eminent; and whether we agree with the earliest\nGreeks, who believed their mythology fact; or with the philosophers of\nthe time of Euripides, who identified the legends with physical nature;\nor prefer to accept the still later theory that the deities and heroes\nwere originally human, and the marvellous myths terrestrial occurrences\nidealized, the eminence of the position accorded to women is equally\nsignificant. Woman was supremely influential, especially in all that\nrelated to the heart. She had her place beside the priest. She was the\nmost trusted oracle. She watched the altar-fires. She was worshipped in\nthe temples, and homage was paid to her divinity in martial triumphs and\nthe public games. Whatever was tender and beneficent in the mythical\ndispensation was associated with her sex. She was the goddess of every\nkind of love. Excess, luxury, brute-power, were typified by men alone.\nThe pagans knew that love was the most potent influence to which man was\nsubject; and love with them was but another name for woman. \u201cIt is in the\nheart,\u201d says Lamartine, \u201cthat God has placed the genius of women, because\nthe works of this genius are all works of love.\u201d Plautus, the pagan\nsatirist, offered his weight in gold for a man who could reason against\nwoman\u2019s influence. Emerson, a very good pagan in his way, appreciates\nthe subtlety, the directness, and the impervious character of such an\ninfluence in the making of conquests. \u201cWe say love is blind,\u201d he writes,\n\u201cand the figure of Cupid is drawn with a bandage around his eyes--blind,\nbecause he does not see what he does not like; but the sharpest-sighted\nhunter in the universe is Love, for finding what he seeks, and only that.\u201d\n\nWoman holds a very prominent place in the religious history of the Jews.\nTwo books of the Old Testament were written in her exaltation--the\nBook of Ruth and the Book of Esther--while in the others she is found\nconstantly at the side of man, exercising in religious affairs a\nrecognized power. Patriarchs acknowledge her influence; she is addressed\nby the prophets. It was Anna who departed not from the Temple, but\nserved God with fastings and prayers night and day. It was to a mother\u2019s\nprayers that Samuel was granted. Sarah is honored by mention in the New\nTestament as a model spouse, and the church has enshrined her name and\nher virtues in the universal marriage service. Miriam directed the\ntriumphant processions and inspired the hosannas of the women of Israel,\nand was their instructress and guide. As it was then, as now, the custom\nof the Israelites to separate the men from the women in public worship,\nMiriam was looked up to as the appointed prophetess of her time. Micah,\nthe prophet, speaking in the name of God, says to the Jews: \u201cI brought\nthee up out of the land of Egypt, and I sent before thee Moses and Aaron\nand Miriam.\u201d That she had been appointed by the Lord, conjointly with\nher brothers, to rescue her people from servitude, appears from her own\nwords in Numbers: \u201cHath the Lord indeed spoken only by Moses? Hath he\nnot spoken also by us?\u201d It is needless to allude to the esteem in which\nNaomi and Ruth were held. The widow of Sarepta fed the prophet Elijah\nwhen she had reason to believe that in so doing she would expose her son\nand herself to death by famine. The Second Epistle of S. John was written\nto a woman. The reverence and affection with which the writers in the New\nTestament speak of the Blessed Virgin Mary are too familiar for more than\nallusion. The women who followed Our Lord were singularly heroic, and the\ninfluence which they exerted upon their associates and upon all who came\nin contact with them must have been correspondingly strong. Woman never\ninsulted, denied, or betrayed Christ:\n\n    \u201cNot she with trait\u2019rous kiss her Saviour stung,\n    Not she denied him with unholy tongue;\n    She, while apostles shrank, could danger brave--\n    Last at his cross, and earliest at his grave.\u201d\n\nS. Paul himself commends the women who labored with him in spreading the\nGospel. It was Lois and Eunice who taught the Scriptures to Timothy.\nIt was in response to the appeals of women that many of the greatest\nmiracles were wrought; Elijah and Elisha both raised the dead to life at\nthe request of women; and Lazarus was restored by Our Lord in pity for\nhis sisters. It was to a woman our Lord spoke the blessed words, \u201cThy\nsins be forgiven thee; go in peace.\u201d It was a woman whose faith led her\nto touch the hem of his garment, confident that thereby she would be made\nwhole. It was a woman whom he singled out as the object of his divine\nlove on the Sabbath day, in spite of the malicious remonstrances of the\nJews. Almost his last words on the cross had a woman for their subject.\nIt was women who followed him with most unflagging devotion; and it was\nwomen whom he first greeted after his resurrection.\n\nWe come now to women in the church militant. The question is no longer,\nWhat have women been in religion? but, What have they done? Does the\nrecord which they have made for themselves in the propagation of\nChristianity justify the sneer of the ex-premier? The implication in Mr.\nGladstone\u2019s quoted sentence is that, because the church in England has\nfound her conquests thus far \u201cchiefly among women,\u201d the Catholic faith is\nnot making such progress in that country as should create apprehension.\nHe thus raises the issue of woman\u2019s potentiality in religion.\n\nWe venture to suggest that there is no department of human endeavor in\nwhich she is so powerful.\n\nWoman\u2019s power in the present and the future, as a working disciple\nof Our Lord, is reasonably deducible from her past. We may not argue\nthat to-morrow she shall be able to bring others to the knowledge and\nservice of God, if, throughout the long yesterday of the church, she was\nindifferent or imbecile. She has little promise if she has not already\nshown large fulfilment. We may not look to her zeal at the domestic\nhearth and in cultivated society for fruits worthy an apostle, if, in\nthe crimson ages of Christianity, her sex made no sacrifices, achieved\nno glory. We may doubt the strength of her intellect, as applied to the\nscience of religion, if the past furnishes no testimony thereof; and we\nmay accept, with some indulgence towards its author, the ex-premier\u2019s\nsneer upon her efficiency in the active toil of the church, if, in the\npast, she has not been alert and successful in its various forms of\norganized intelligence, humanity, and benevolence.\n\nWhat, then, are the facts? Did women, in the early days, submit to\ntorture and death, side by side with men, rather than deny their faith\nin Christ? Was their faith, too, sealed with their blood? Did women\nshare the labor and the danger of teaching the truths of religion?\nDid they, when such study was extremely difficult, and required more\nintellect because it enjoyed fewer aids than now, devote themselves\nto the investigation and elaboration of sacred subjects? Have they\ncontributed anything to the learning and literature of the church? Have\nthey gone into uncivilized countries as missionaries? Have they furnished\nconspicuous examples of fidelity to God under circumstances seductive or\nappalling? Have they founded schools, established and maintained houses\nfor the sick, the poor, the aged, the orphan, the stranger? Have they\ncrossed the thresholds of their homes, never to re-enter, but to follow\nwhithersoever the Lord beckoned? Has their zeal led them into the smoke\nand rush of battle, into the dens of pestilence, into squalor and the\nhaunts of crime? Have they proved by evidence which will not be disputed\nthat, to win others to their faith, they have given up everything--they\ncan give up everything--that their faith is dearer to them than all else\non earth?\n\nThen, surely, a faith which has made its progress even \u201cchiefly among\nwomen\u201d has made a progress as solid as if it were chiefly among men, for\nno greater things can man do than these.\n\nIt is neither possible nor desirable, in an article of narrow limits,\nto enumerate the women who have taken even a prominent part in the\nestablishment of Christianity through the various agencies which the\nchurch has employed. The notice of each class must be brief, and we shall\nnot formally group them; the testimony will be valid enough, even in a\ncursory presentation. What have women done to prove their ability to\npropagate the faith?\n\nBeginning in the days of the apostles, we find the blood of women flowing\nas freely as that of men in vindication of the Christian creed. If\nmen joyfully hastened to the amphitheatre, so did they. If men meekly\naccepted torture and ignominy, so did they. If men defied the ingenuity\nof cruelty and smiled in their agony, so did they. If men resigned human\nambition, surrendered possessions, and abandoned luxury, so did they. The\nannals of the martyrs show, with what degree of accuracy it is difficult\nnow to determine, that if either sex is entitled to higher distinction\nfor the abandonment of everything that human nature holds dear, in order\nto follow Christ even to ignominious death, the pre-eminence is in favor\nof the weaker sex. It is impossible to read a chapter of martyrology from\nthe inauguration of persecution until its close without finding therein\nthe names of noble and gentle women illuminated by their own blood.\n\nContemporaneous with S. Paul is Thecla, who was held in so great\nveneration in the early ages of Christianity \u201cthat it was considered the\ngreatest praise that could be given to a woman to compare her with S.\nThecla.\u201d She was skilled in profane and sacred science and philosophy,\nand excelled in the various branches of polite literature. She is\ndeclared one of the brightest ornaments of the apostolic age; and one of\nthe fathers \u201ccommends her eloquence and the ease, strength, sweetness,\nand modesty of her discourse.\u201d She was distinguished for \u201cthe vehemence\nof her love for Christ,\u201d which she displayed on many occasions with the\ncourage of a martyr and \u201cwith a strength of body equal to the vigor of\nher mind.\u201d She was converted by S. Paul about the year 45. Resolving\nto dedicate her virginity and life to God, she broke an engagement of\nmarriage, and, in despite of the remonstrances of her parents and the\nentreaties of her betrothed, who was a pagan nobleman, devoted herself\nto the work of the Gospel. At length authority placed its cruel hand\nupon her. She was exposed naked in the amphitheatre; but her fortitude\nsurvived the shock undaunted. The lions forgot their ferocity and licked\nher feet; and S. Ambrose, S. Chrysostom, S. Methodius, S. Gregory\nNazianzen, and other fathers confirm the truth of the statement that she\nemerged from the arena without harm. She was exposed to many similar\ndangers, but triumphantly survived them. She accompanied S. Paul in many\nof his journeys, and died in retirement at Isaura. The great cathedral of\nMilan was built in her honor.\n\nVisitors to Rome are taken to the Church of S. Prisca, built on the\noriginal site of her house--the house in which S. Peter lodged. Prisca\nwas a noble Roman lady who, on account of her profession of Christianity,\nwas exposed in the amphitheatre at the age of thirteen. The lions\nrefusing to devour her, she was beheaded in prison. In the IIId century\nwe behold S. Agatha displaying a fortitude before her judge which has\nnever been surpassed by man, and suffering without resistance torture\nof exquisite cruelty--the tearing open of her bosom by iron shears. In\nthe same century Apollonia, daughter of a magistrate in Alexandria, was\nbaptized by a disciple of S. Anthony, and there appeared an angel, who\nthrew over her a garment of dazzling white, saying, \u201cGo now to Alexandria\nand preach the faith of Christ.\u201d Many were converted by her eloquence;\nfor her refusal to worship the gods she was bound to a column, and her\nbeautiful teeth were pulled out one by one by a pair of pincers, as\nan appropriate atonement for her crime. Then a fire was kindled, and\nshe was flung into it. Apollonia preaching to the people of Alexandria\nforms the subject of a famous picture by a favorite pupil of Michael\nAngelo--Granacci--in the Munich gallery. In the beginning of the IVth\ncentury a Roman maiden, whose name is popularly known as Agnes, gave\nup her life for her faith. \u201cHer tender sex,\u201d says a Protestant writer,\n\u201cher almost childish years, her beauty, innocence, and heroic defence\nof her chastity, the high antiquity of the veneration paid to her,\nhave all combined to invest the person and character of S. Agnes with\na charm, an interest, a reality, to which the most sceptical are not\nwholly insensible.\u201d The son of the Prefect of Rome became enamored of\nher comeliness, and asked her parents to give her to him as his wife.\nAgnes repelled his advances and declined his gifts. Then the prefect\nordered her to enter the service of Vesta, and she refused the command\nwith disdain. Chains and threats failed to intimidate her; resort was\nhad to a form of torture so atrocious that her woman\u2019s heart, but for a\nmiracle of grace, must have quailed in the pangs of anticipation. She was\nexposed nude in a place of infamy, and her head fell \u201cin meek shame\u201d upon\nher bosom. She prayed, and \u201cimmediately her hair, which was already long\nand abundant, became like a veil, covering her whole person from head\nto foot; and those who looked upon her were seized with awe and fear as\nof something sacred, and dared not lift their eyes.\u201d When fire refused\nto consume her body, the executioner mounted the obstinate fagots, and\nended her torments by the sword. She is the favorite saint of the Roman\nwomen; two churches in the Eternal City bear her name; there is no saint\nwhose effigy is older than hers; and Domenichino, Titian, Paul Veronese,\nand Tintoretto have perpetuated her glory. In the previous year, at\nSyracuse, Lucia, a noble damsel, refused a pagan husband of high lineage\nand great riches, preferring to consecrate herself to a divine Spouse.\nHer discarded suitor betrayed her to the persecutors, from whose hands\nshe escaped by dying in prison of her wounds. Euphemia, who is venerated\nin the East by the surname of _Great_, and to whom four churches are\nerected in Constantinople, died a frightful death in Chalcedon, four\nyears after Lucia had perished in Syracuse. So general was the homage\npaid her heroism that Leo the Isaurian ordered that her churches be\nprofaned and her relics be cast into the sea. Devotion found means for\nevading the mandate, and the sacred remains were preserved. In the\nsame year Catherine, a niece of Constantine the Great, was martyred at\nAlexandria. From her childhood it was manifest that she had been rightly\nnamed--from \u03ba\u03b1\u03b8\u03b1\u03c1\u03cc\u03c2, pure, undefiled. Her graces of mind and person were\nthe wonder and admiration of the people. Her father was King of Egypt,\nand she his heir. When she ascended the throne, she devoted herself to\nthe study of philosophy. Plato was her favorite author. It is declared\nthat her scholarship was so profound, so varied, and so exact that she\nconfounded a company of the ablest heathen philosophers. The Emperor\nMaximin, failing to induce her to apostatize, had constructed four\nwheels, armed with blades, and revolving in opposite directions. Between\nthese she was bound; but God miraculously preserved her. Then she was\ndriven from Alexandria, scourged, and beheaded. St. Catherine has been\nhonored for many centuries as the patroness of learning and eloquence.\nIn art S. Jerome\u2019s name and hers are frequently associated together, as\nthe two patrons of scholastic theology. She carries a book in her hands,\nlike S. Thomas Aquinas and S. Bonaventure, to symbolize her learning,\nand her statue is to be found in the old universities and schools. She\nwas especially honored in the University of Padua, the _Alma Mater_\nof Christopher Columbus. In England alone there were upwards of fifty\nchurches dedicated in her name. The painters have loved to treat her as\nthe Christian Urania, the goddess of science and philosophy. She afforded\ndelightful opportunities of genius to Raphael, Guido, Titian, Correggio,\nAlbert D\u00fcrer. In the same century and about the same year Barbara, the\ndaughter of a nobleman in Heliopolis, was decapitated by her enraged\nfather on discovering her profession of the Christian faith; Margaret,\nwho refused to become the wife of a pagan governor, was beheaded at\nAntioch; Dorothea was slain in Cappadocia.\n\nSometimes the women of these early days walked to martyrdom with\nfather, husband, brother, or friend; as Domnina and Theonilla; Lucia\nwith Gemmianus, under Diocletian; Daria with Chrysanthus, Cecilia with\nValerian, Tiburtius, and Maximus; Flora and Mary in Cordova; Dorothea and\nher troop of followers; Theodora with Didymus; Victoria and Fortunatus;\nBibiana, a young Roman lady, with her father, mother, and sister, whom\nshe inspired and sustained.\n\nShall we prolong the calendar to show that woman\u2019s courage did not expire\nwith the fervor of apostolic times? There were Thrasilla and Emiliana,\naunts of Gregory the Great. There was the English abbess, Ebba, who, with\nher entire household, perished in the flames of their convent; the noble\nHelen of Sweden, who was murdered by her relatives in the XIth century.\n\nDid women seek the solitude of the wilderness and the perils of the\nforest to serve God as hermits and solitaries? They began the practice\nof the ascetic life in the apostolic days; they had formed communities\nas early as the IId century; many lived in couples, as the anchorets\nMarava and Cyra in the first century; some imitated the example of Mary\nof Egypt, who spent twenty-seven years in isolation. There were the Irish\nhermit, Maxentia in France; and Modneva, in the IXth century, also Irish,\nwho dwelt for seven years alone in the Island of Trent. S. Bridget of\nIreland had her first cell in the trunk of an oak-tree.\n\nWhen we undertake to answer what sacrifices women have made for religion,\nit is difficult to frame an adequate reply with sufficient brevity. From\nthe day that S. Catherine gave up the throne of Egypt until this hour,\nwomen have been sacrificing for the Catholic faith--everything. If the\nobjects of their attachment are fewer than those of men, their domestic\nlove is of more exquisite sensibility, and its rupture is in many cases,\nnot the result of an instant\u2019s strong resolve, but the slow martyrdom of\na lifetime. Nearly all the early heroines of Christianity were women of\nhigh social position, of rich and luxurious homes, and many were noted\nfor their beauty, their culture, or their address. Some were on the eve\nof happy betrothals; yet Eucratis spurns a lover, and Rufina and Secunda\ndepart from apostate husbands. It was to the courage and self-sacrifice\nof their respective wives that the martyrs Hadrian and Valerian are\nindebted for their palms. In the IVth century we see the Empress Helen,\nmother of Constantine the Great, when fourscore years of age, proceeding\nfrom Constantinople to Palestine for the purpose of adorning churches\nand worshipping our Lord in the regions consecrated by his presence. It\nwas she who discovered the true cross of Christ. In the VIIth century\nQueen Cuthburge of England resigned royal pleasures, founded a convent,\nand lived and died in it. In the VIIth century Hereswith, Queen of the\nEast-Angles, withdrew from royalty, and became an inmate of the convent\nin Chelles, France. Queen Bathilde, of France, followed her thither as\nsoon as her son, Clotaire III., had reached his majority, \u201cand obeyed\nher superior as if she were the last Sister in the house.\u201d The abbess\nherself, who was also of an illustrious family, was \u201cthe most humble and\nmost fervent,\u201d and \u201cshowed by her conduct that no one commands well or\nwith safety who has not first learned and is not always ready to obey\nwell.\u201d Radegunde, another queen of France, also passed from a court to a\ncloister. In the IXth century Alice, Empress of Germany, presented, in\ntwo regencies, the extraordinary power of religion in producing a wise\nand efficient administration of political affairs. She was virtually a\nrecluse living and acting in the splendor of a throne. Is it necessary\nto more than allude to S. Elizabeth of Hungary, or to her niece, Queen\nElizabeth of Portugal, who, after a glorious career, to which we shall\nallude in another connection, joined the Order of Poor Clares? In the\nEast, Pulcheria, the empress, granddaughter of Theodosius the Great,\nwithdrew from a _r\u00e9gime_ in which she was the controlling spirit, and did\nnot return from her austerities until urgently requested to do so by Pope\nS. Leo. At her death she bequeathed all her goods and private estates to\nthe poor. Queen Maud of England walked daily to church barefoot, wearing\na garment of sackcloth, and washed and kissed the feet of the poor. It\nwas a queen, Jane of France, who became the foundress of the Nuns of the\nAnnunciation.\n\nWhen we consider the part that woman has had in the formation of the\nvarious religious orders, the temerity of the ex-premier in belittling\nher influence assumes still greater proportions. The undeniable fact\nthat Protestantism has never been able permanently to maintain a single\ncommunity of women, either for contemplation or benevolence, proves that\nthe Catholic Church alone is the sphere in which woman\u2019s religious zeal\nfinds its fullest and most complete expression; that it is the Catholic\nfaith alone which thoroughly arouses and solidly supports the enthusiasm\nof her nature, and embodies her ardor into a useful and enduring form.\nThe achievements of women in the religious orders demonstrate that it\nis impossible to exaggerate this enthusiasm or to overestimate the\nsubtle influence which she exerts in society, Catholic and non-Catholic.\nHuman nature, in whatever creed, bows in involuntary homage to the\nwoman who has left her home, and father and mother, brother, sister,\nand friends, to follow Jesus Christ and him crucified. This instinct\nis as old as man. The pagan Greek, the brutal Roman, punished with\nalmost incredible severity offences against their oracles and vestals.\nHistory furnishes no instance of a nation possessing a religion however\nridiculous, a worship however coarse and senseless, which did not award\nexceptional deference to the virgins consecrated to the service of its\ngods. Christianity, which emancipated woman from the domestic slavery\nin which usage had placed and law confirmed her; which made her man\u2019s\npeer by its indissoluble marriage tie; and which compelled courts and\njudges to modify barbarous statutes affecting her civil rights as well\nas her conjugal relations, has been rewarded by eighteen hundred years\nof unflagging zeal and unshrinking heroism. If woman had done nothing in\nthe household for the church; if she had been indifferent as a wife and\nincompetent as a mother; if in the world the sex were merely frivolous,\npretty things, such as Diderot would describe with \u201cthe pen dipped in the\nhumid colors of the rainbow, and the paper dried with the dust gathered\nfrom the wings of a butterfly\u201d; if they had never done anything for\nreligion except what they have done out of the world--in the shade, as it\nwere--Christianity would still have been the gainer, civilization would\nowe them a vast balance, and the sneer of the ex-premier would be found\nto describe only his own bitterness.\n\nThere has been no salic law in the Catholic Church. Her crowns cover\nwomen\u2019s heads as well as men\u2019s; women themselves have vindicated their\nright to spiritual royalty.\n\nThe activity of women for the spread of the Gospel began, as we have\nseen, in the days of the apostles, when the preaching of Thecla, the\nexhortations of many women converts, and the courageous utterances of\nthose being led to martyrdom, won multitudes to Christ. The monastic\nlife of woman is as old as that of man. Indeed, our word _nun_, derived\nfrom the Greek \u03bd\u1f40\u03bd\u03bd\u03b1, passed into the latter language from the Egyptian,\nin which it was synonymous with _fair_, _beautiful_. As rapidly as\nChristianity moved over the world women joyfully accepted its precepts\nand hastened to its propagation. Lamartine says that \u201cnature has given\nwomen two painful but heavenly gifts, which distinguish them, and often\nraise them above human nature--compassion and enthusiasm. By compassion\nthey devote themselves; by enthusiasm they exalt themselves.\u201d These two\ngifts find their freest exercise in conventual life, whether strictly\ncontemplative, as the monastic life in the East was in the beginning,\nor contemplative and benevolent, as it became in the West. It was,\ntherefore, only natural that women of all degrees should listen to the\nvoice of God summoning them to this state. It was not natural, however,\nto sever the domestic ties which nature herself had made and religion\nhad blessed. It was no easier in the days of Ebba and Bega than in\nthose of Angela Merici, or S. Teresa, or Catherine McAuley, for the\ndaughter to bid a final farewell to her home and its endearments for\nan existence of self-immolation, of prayer, of obedience, of humility,\nand often of hunger and cold, sickness, danger, and want. That women in\nlarge numbers have nevertheless chosen this which the world calls the\nworse life and the apostle the better, from the time of the apostles to\nthe present day, shows that it is in religion they reach the zenith of\ntheir capabilities; for they have made no such sacrifices, they have\nachieved no such successes, in art, in science, nor in literature. They\nhave entered the service of the church through the convent gate, in\ndespite of difficulties which would often have debarred men even from\nthe entertainment of the design. Their toil in the convents has been\nwholly in the service of mankind. The history of the conventual life\nof women is not divisible from that of civilization, and in rapidly\nsketching it we shall discover chapters on the progress of religion, the\norganization of benevolence, the preservation of learning, and the spread\nof education. The assistance which women have rendered to the last two\nhas not been properly appreciated.\n\nThe catalogue of eminent foundresses is too long to be considered in\ndetail. Every country, every century, has its list of noble virgins, of\nwealthy widows, or of mothers whose maternal duty was done, building\nhouses for established orders, or, under the authority of the church,\nfounding additional communities, always with a specific design; for the\nchurch takes no step without an intelligent purpose. Among these women\nhave been many who were remarkable in more qualities than piety, in other\nconditions than social distinction; and it is a fact which will scarcely\nbear debate that it has been inside the convents, or, if outside, under\nthe direction and inspiration of religion, that the mind of woman has\nenjoyed freest scope and produced palpable and permanent results. It is\ntrue that there have been great women in profane history, ancient and\nmodern--a Cleopatra and Semiramis, a Catherine in Russia, an Elizabeth\nin England; in literature a De Sta\u00ebl, a \u201cGeorge Sand,\u201d and a \u201cGeorge\nEliot\u201d; in histrionic art, in poetry, and in court circles, many women\nhave equalled and outshone men; and in science they have significantly\ncontributed to medicine and mathematics. But the annals of women in\nreligion reveal the heroic characteristics of the sex developed far\nbeyond the limit reached in the world.\n\nWe have just mentioned S. Elizabeth, Queen of Portugal. What woman has\nsurpassed her in perseverance--that most difficult of feminine virtues?\nWhat man has surpassed the utterness of her love for God--that sublimest\nof virtues in either sex? At eight years of age she began to fast on\nappointed days; she undertook, of her own accord, to practise great\nmortifications; she would sing no songs but hymns and psalms; \u201cand from\nher childhood she said every day the whole office of the Breviary, in\nwhich no priest could be more exact.\u201d Her time was regularly divided,\nafter her marriage to the King of Portugal, between her domestic duties\nand works of piety. She visited and nursed the sick, and dressed their\nmost loathsome sores. \u201cShe founded,\u201d says Butler, \u201cin different parts\nof the kingdom, many pious establishments, particularly an hospital\nnear her own palace at Co\u00efmbra, a house for penitent women who had been\nseduced into evil courses,\u201d thus anticipating the future Sisters of the\nGood Shepherd. She built an \u201chospital for foundlings, or those children\nwho, for want of due provision, are exposed to the danger of perishing\nin poverty or of the neglect or cruelty of unnatural parents.\u201d She won\nher ruffianly husband, by patience and sweetness, to a Christian life,\nand induced him to found, with royal munificence, the University of\nCo\u00efmbra. She averted wars, and reconciled her husband and son when their\narmies were marching against each other. She made peace between Ferdinand\nIV. and the claimant of his crown, and between James II. of Aragon and\nFrederick IV. of Castile. What woman of profane history furnishes so\nillustrious and so substantial a record as this? Religion alone supplied\nits motive and maintained its progress.\n\nThe foundress of the Poor Clares, S. Clare of Assisium, was the daughter\nof a knight, and had to suffer contumely and opprobrium for entering\nthe religious state instead of accepting proffered marriage. Her sister\nand mother were led by her virtues to follow her example, and they\nfounded houses of the Poor Clares in all the principal cities of Italy\nand Germany. They wore no covering on their feet, slept on the ground,\npractised perpetual abstinence, and never spoke except when compelled\nby necessity or charity. S. Clare\u2019s great fortune she gave to the poor,\nwithout reserving a farthing for herself. What but religion could\nsuggest, sustain, and crown so martyr-like a life as this? The Little\nSisters of the Poor are now nearest the model which S. Clare became; and\nthe Little Sister of the Poor is greater in the sight of Almighty God and\nin the honest reverence of the human heart than a De Sta\u00ebl or a \u201cSand\u201d!\n\nWe merely allude to S. Jane Frances de Chantal, the foundress of the\nOrder of the Visitation, whom our American widow, Mother Seton, foundress\nof our Sisters of Charity, so strangely resembled in certain properties\nof character and circumstances of life. The conspicuous virtue of these\ntwo women was the same--humility. Space forbids more than allusion\nto other noted foundresses--Angela Merici, mother of the Ursulines;\nCatherine McAuley, of the Sisters of Mercy; Mme. Barat, foundress of\nthe Order of the Sacred Heart, whose beatification is in progress;\nNano Nagle, of the Sisters of the Presentation; and those holy, brave,\nand zealous women who are to-day leading their respective communities\nin every part of the world, whom to name, even in illustration of an\nargument, would be to offend. They are exercising within convent walls\nthe sacrifices which made martyrs. They are sending pioneers of religion\nto the frontiers of civilization; equipping hospitals, asylums, and\nschools wherever and whenever called; carrying out faithfully on our\ncontinent the example set them by the foundresses of American charitable\ninstitutions; for our first hospital in New France was managed by three\nnuns from Dieppe, the youngest but twenty-two years of age; and in 1639\na widow of Alenson and a nun from Dieppe, with two Sisters from Tours,\nestablished an Ursuline Academy for girls at Quebec. Bancroft says: \u201cAs\nthe youthful heroines stepped on the shore at Quebec they stooped to kiss\nthe earth, which they adopted as their mother, and were ready, in case of\nneed, to tinge with their blood. The governor, with the little garrison,\nreceived them at the water\u2019s edge; Hurons and Algonquins, joining in the\nshouts, filled the air with yells of joy; and the motley group escorted\nthe new-comers to the church, where, amidst a general thanksgiving, the\n_Te Deum_ was chanted. Is it wonderful that the natives were touched by\na benevolence which their poverty and squalid misery could not appall?\nTheir education was also attempted; and the venerable ash-tree still\nlives beneath which Mary of the Incarnation, so famed for chastened\npiety, genius, and good judgment, toiled, though in vain, for the culture\nof Huron children.\u201d Could anything but religion enable delicately-reared\nwomen to turn a last look upon the sunny slopes of France, where remained\neverything that their hearts cherished, and set out in 1639, in a slow\nship, over an almost unknown ocean, with certain expectation never to\nreturn, and equally certain that in the new land they would encounter\nan almost perpetual winter and incur all the perils of the instincts of\nsavages? What stately woman\u2019s figure rises in profane history to the\nheight of Mary of the Incarnation?\n\nThe part that woman has had in the building up and the spread of\neducation has not, so far as we are aware, been adequately written.\nPerhaps it never will be; for the materials of at least fifteen centuries\nare, for the most part, carefully buried in convent archives, and their\nmodest keepers shun publicity. The lack of popular knowledge in this\nportion of the history of education has induced the erroneous supposition\nthat woman has done little or nothing for the intelligence of the\nrace; that, until recently, the sex received slight instruction and\npossessed only superficial and effeminate acquirements; and that the free\nfacilities which women are reaching after indicate an entirely new, an\nunwritten, chapter in the culture of the sex.\n\nEach of these suppositions is unwarranted by facts. Women have shared\nin the establishment of educational institutions from the earliest\nperiod of which we have authentic record. Their resources have founded\nschools, their talents have conducted them. Whenever, from the days of\nS. Catherine to those of Nano Nagle, special efforts have been made to\nteach the people, women have furnished their full share of energy and\nbrains. The opportunities which, even in periods of exceptional darkness\nor disturbance, were afforded for the higher education of women, were far\nin advance of the standard which prejudice or ignorance has associated\nwith women in the past; and the increasing demand which we have on every\nside for a more substantial and scholarly training for the sex does not\nlook forward to that which they have never had, but backward to what they\nhave lost or abandoned.\n\nAgain we find Mr. Gladstone\u2019s sneer answered; for religion--the Catholic\nreligion--has been the sole inspiration of the part that woman has had in\npopular education. The magnitude of that part we will only outline; but\nenough will be shown of woman as a foundress, a teacher, and a scholar to\nindicate the rank to which she is entitled as an educator, and the motive\nwhich enabled her to attain it.\n\nThere were very few convents for women which were not also schools and\nacademies for their sex. Many Christian women, even in the days of\nthe Fathers, were not only skilled in sacred science, but in profane\nliterature, and these, naturally and inevitably, taught the younger\nmembers of their own households, and, when they entered the service\nof the church, became teachers of the children of the people. In the\nIVth century Hypatia, invited by the magistrates of Alexandria to teach\nphilosophy, led many of her pupils to Christianity, although she herself\ndid not have the grace to embrace it; but her learning induced many\nwomen to profound and elegant study. We have spoken of S. Catherine,\nwho confuted the pagan philosophers of that city of schools, and whose\ncondition was the delight of her contemporaries. The mothers and sisters\nin those early days were not only willing but able to teach the science\nof Christianity and letters. S. Paul himself alludes to the instruction\nhe received from his mother, Lois, and his grandmother, Eunice. It was\nS. Macrina who taught S. Basil and S. Gregory of Nyssa. It was Theodora\nwho instructed Cosmas and Damian. \u201cEven as early as the IId century,\u201d\nsays a distinguished scholar, \u201cthe zeal of religious women for letters\nexcited the bile and provoked the satire of the enemies of Christianity.\u201d\nS. Fulgentius was educated by his mother. So solicitous was she about\nthe purity of his Greek accent \u201cthat she made him learn by heart the\npoems of Homer and Menander before he studied his Latin rudiments.\u201d\nIt was S. Paula who moved S. Jerome to some of his greatest literary\nlabors; and the latter assures us that the gentle S. Eustochium wrote\nand spoke Hebrew without Latin adulteration. S. Chrysostom dedicated\nseventeen letters to S. Olympias; and S. Marcella, on account of her rare\nacquirements, was known as \u201cthe glory of the Roman ladies.\u201d S. Melania\nand S. C\u00e6saria were noted for their accomplishments.\n\nMontalembert declares that literary pursuits were cultivated in the VIIth\nand VIIIth centuries in the convents in England, \u201cwith no less care and\nperseverance\u201d than in the monasteries, \u201cand perhaps with still greater\nenthusiasm.\u201d The nuns were accustomed \u201cto study holy books, the fathers\nof the church, and even classical works.\u201d S. Gertrude translated the\nScriptures into Greek. It was a woman who introduced the study of Greek\ninto the famous monastery of S. Gall. The erudite author of _Christian\nSchools and Scholars_ says that \u201cthe Anglo-Saxon nuns very early vied\nwith the monks in their application to letters.\u201d There is preserved a\ntreatise on virginity by Adhelm, in the VIIth century, which contains an\nillumination representing him as teaching a group of nuns. S. Boniface\ndirected the studies of many convents of women.\n\nHildelitha, the first English _religieuse_, had received her education\nat the convent of Chelles, in France, \u201cand brought into the cloisters\nof Barking all the learning of that famous school.\u201d This institution,\nabout five leagues from Paris, was founded by S. Clotilda, and one of its\nabbesses in the IXth century was Gisella, a pupil of Alcuin and sister of\nCharlemagne. It was in a convent school, that of Roncerai, near Angers,\nthat Heloise received her education in classics and philosophy; and\nHallam, who finds little to remark concerning convent schools--because,\nwe presume, their archives were not sought by him--says that the\n\u201cepistles of Abelard and Eloisa, especially those of the latter, are,\nas far as I know, the first book that gives any pleasure in reading for\nsix hundred years, since the _Consolation_ of Boethius.\u201d The learning\nof S. Hilda was so highly esteemed that \u201cmore than once the holy abbess\nassisted at the deliberation of the bishops assembled in council or in\nsynod, who wished to take the advice of her whom they considered so\nespecially enlightened by the Holy Spirit.\u201d Queen Editha, wife of Edward\nthe Confessor, taught grammar and logic.\n\nThe scholarly women of the time were not all in England. Richtrude,\ndaughter of Charlemagne, had a Greek professor. The historian from whom\nwe have already quoted says, in _Christian Schools and Scholars_, that\nthe examples of learning in the cloisters of nuns were not \u201cconfined\nto those communities which had caught their tone from the little knot\nof literary women educated by S. Boniface. \u201cIt was the natural and\n_universal development of the religious life_.\u201d\n\nGuizot ranks \u201camong the gems of literature\u201d the account of the death of\nS. C\u00e6saria, written by one of her sisters. Radegunde, queen of Clothaire\nI., read the Greek and Latin fathers familiarly. S. Adelaide, Abbess\nof Geldern, in the Xth century, had received a learned education, and\nimparted her attainments to the young of her sex. Hrotsvitha, a nun of\nGandersheim, in the Xth century, wrote Latin poems and stanzas, which\nprove, says Spalding, \u201cthat in the institutions of learning at that day\nclassical literature was extensively and successfully cultivated by\nwomen as well as by men.\u201d In the XIIth century the Abbess Hervada wrote\nan encyclopedia, \u201ccontaining,\u201d remarks Mgr. Dupanloup, \u201call the science\nknown in her day.\u201d\n\nNor were women content to study and teach in their native countries.\nWhen S. Boniface needed teachers in Germany to complete the conversion\nand civilization of the country, he endeavored to enlist the enthusiasm\nof the English women of learning and piety; and Chunehilt and her\ndaughter Berathgilt were the first to listen to his appeal. They are\ncalled by the historian _valde erudit\u00e6 in liberali scientia_. The Abbess\nLioba, distinguished for her scholarship and her executive ability,\nalso accepted the invitation of Boniface, and thirty nuns, of whom\nshe was the head, reached Antwerp after a stormy passage, and were\nreceived at Mentz by the archbishop, who conducted them to the convent\nat Bischofsheim, which he had erected for Lioba. S. Boniface declared\nthat he loved Lioba on account of her solid learning--_eruditionis\nsapientia_. Walburga, a subordinate of Lioba, went into Thuringia, and\nbecame abbess of the Convent of Heidesheim, where she and her nuns\ncultivated letters as diligently as in their English home. The church\nherself watched over these efforts of women to elevate their sex; for the\nCouncil of Cloveshoe, held in 747, exhorts abbesses diligently to provide\nfor the education of those under their charge. In so great admiration\nand affection did S. Boniface hold Lioba that he requested that her\nremains might be buried in Fulda, so that they might together await the\nresurrection. Lioba survived the saint twenty-four years, during which\nshe erected many convents and received signal assistance from Charlemagne.\n\nThe convent schools maintained by these disciples of S. Boniface were\nnot the only ones in which women obtained more culture than is accorded\nto them in our own boastful time. At Gandersheim the course of study\nincluded Latin and Greek, the philosophy of Aristotle, and the liberal\narts. One of the abbesses of this convent was the author of a treatise\non logic \u201cmuch esteemed among the learned of her own time.\u201d It would be\neasy enough to continue this record; to carry on the chain of woman\u2019s\nassistance--always under the guidance of religion--in the educational\ndevelopment of Europe. It is not easy to avoid dwelling on the aid\nshe rendered in the foundation of colleges; of the standing which she\nattained in the universities, where, both as student and professor, she\nwon with renown and wore with modesty the highest degrees and honors.\n\nThe catalogue of that metropolis of learning, the University of Bologna,\na papal institution, contains the names of many women who appeared\nto enviable advantage in its departments of canon law, medicine,\nmathematics, art, and literature. The period which produced Vittoria\nColonna, who received, her education in a convent, discovers Properzia\nde\u2019 Rossi teaching sculpture in Bologna; the painter Sister Plautilla,\na Dominican; Marietta Tintoretto, daughter of the \u201cThunder of Art,\u201d\nherself a celebrated portrait-painter, whose work possessed many of\nthe best qualities of her father\u2019s; Elizabeth Sirani, who painted and\ntaught in Bologna; and Elena Cornaro admitted as a doctor at Milan.\nWe find a woman architect, Plautilla Brizio, working in Rome in the\nXVIIth century, building a palace and the Chapel of S. Benedict. In\nthe papal universities, as late as the XVIIIth century, women took\ndegrees in jurisprudence and philosophy; among them, Victoria Delfini,\nChristina Roccati, and Laura Bassi, in the University of Bologna, and\nMaria Amoretti in that of Pavia. In 1758 Anna Mazzolina was professor of\nanatomy in Bologna, and Maria Agnesi was appointed by the pope professor\nof mathematics in the University of Bologna. Novella d\u2019Andrea taught\ncanon law in Bologna for ten years. A woman was the successor of Cardinal\nMezzofanti as professor of Greek. Statues are erected to the memory of\ntwo women who taught botany in the universities of Bologna and Genoa.\nIt is well to mention these facts as a sufficient reply to the flippant\ncharge, too frequently made, that the Catholic Church is \u201copposed\u201d to the\nhigher education of women.\n\nThe relation of women in religion to the education and refinement of the\npresent day can be lightly passed over. In the convent schools in every\npart of the world young women receive the best education now available\nfor their sex. The demands of society have affected the curriculum. It\nis not as abstract or classical or thorough as in the time of Lioba and\nHrotsvitha, but it is the best; and it will return to the classical\nstandard as quickly as women themselves make the demand. In a word,\nthe orders of teaching women in the Catholic Church are, we repeat, a\nsufficient answer to Mr. Gladstone\u2019s sneer at the status of women in\nreligion. It was out of these that arose Catherine of Sienna--orator,\nscholar, diplomate, saint. Of these was S. Teresa, whom Mgr. Dupanloup\ncharacterizes as one of the greatest, if not the greatest, prose writers\nin the Spanish literature. Of these have been hundreds, thousands, of\nwomen, who, moved by the Spirit of God to his service, have found within\nconvent-walls opportunities for culture which society denies, and who, in\nthe carrying out of his divine will, have made more sacrifices, attained\nhigher degrees of perfection, and lived lives of sweeter perfume and\nnobler usefulness, than the mind of Mr. Gladstone appears to be able to\nconceive. A religion which makes conquests enough among women, since it\ncan inspire, control, and direct them thus, is the religion which must\nconquer the world.\n\nFinally, Mr. Gladstone forgot the subtle power of mother and wife, and\nthe marriage laws of the Catholic Church. The mother\u2019s influence for good\nor evil, but especially for good, to which she most inclines, is second\nto none that moves the heart of man. Whether it be Cornelia, pointing\nto the Gracchi as her jewels; or Monica, pursuing and persuading S.\nAugustine; Felicitas, exhorting her seven sons to martyrdom; or the\nmothers of S. Chrysostom, S. Basil, and S. Anselm, converting their\nchildren to firmness in holiness; or whether it be the untutored mother\nof the savage, or the unfortunate head of a household setting an\nunwomanly example, the mother\u2019s voice, issuing from the quivering lips\nor coming back silently from the tomb, is heard when all other sounds of\nmenace, of appeal, of reproach, or of tenderness fail to reach the ear.\nEvery mother makes her sex venerable to her son. The mother\u2019s love is\nabove all logic; it destroys syllogisms, refutes all argument. It cannot\nbe reasoned against; and when the salvation of the child is the motive,\nthere is no power given to man to withstand its seduction. \u201cIt shrinks\nnot where man cowers, and grows stronger where man faints, and over the\nwastes of worldly fortune sends the radiance of its quenchless fidelity.\u201d\nChrist himself upon the cross was not unmindful of his mother; yet he was\nGod! Says the greater Napoleon, \u201cThe destiny of the child is always the\nwork of the mother.\u201d To the end of time she will be, as she has ever been,\n\n    \u201cThe holiest thing alive.\u201d\n\nThe faith of the mothers, if they believe in it, must become the faith\nof the sons and the daughters. That the Catholic mother believes, even\nMr. Gladstone will hesitate to deny. In no faith but the Catholic have\nmothers accompanied their sons to martyrdom. In no faith but the Catholic\nis the mother taught to believe, while still a child at her mother\u2019s\nbreast, that she will be held responsible for the eternal welfare of\nher children; that they must be saved with her, or she must perish with\nthem. For this salvation she will toil and pray and weep; for this she\nwill spend days of weariness and nights without sleep; for this religion\nwill keep her heart brave, and her lips eloquent, and her hand gentle and\nstrong. For this she will work as neither man nor woman works for aught\nelse; and for this she will lay down her life, but not until the sublime\npurpose is accomplished! That done, she is ready to die. For\n\n    \u201cHath she not then, for pains and fears,\n      The day of woe, the watchful night,\n    For all her sorrow, all her tears,\n      An over-payment of delight?\u201d\n\nIf the mothers of England become Catholic, England becomes Catholic.\nThe law is of nature. Love must win, if talent partly fails; for even\nin heaven the seraphim, which signifies love, is nearer God than the\ncherubim, which signifies knowledge.\n\n\nON A CHARGE MADE AFTER THE PUBLICATION OF A VOLUME OF POETRY\n\n(WRITTEN NEAR WINDERMERE.)\n\n    Beautiful Land! They said, \u201cHe loves thee not!\u201d\n    But in a church-yard \u2019mid thy meadows lie\n    The bones of no disloyal ancestry.\n    To whom in me disloyal were the thought\n    Which wronged thee. For my youth thy Shakspeare wrought;\n    For me thy minsters raised their towers on high;\n    Thou gav\u2019st me friends whose memory cannot die:--\n    I love thee, and for that cause left unsought\n    Thy praise. Thy ruined cloisters, forests green,\n    Thy moors where still the branching wild deer roves,\n    Dear haunts of mine by sun and moon have been\n    From Cumbrian peaks to Devon\u2019s laughing coves.\n    They love thee less, be sure, who ne\u2019er had heart\n    To take, for truth\u2019s sake, \u2019gainst thyself thy part.\n\n    AUBREY DE VERE.\n\n\nSTRAY LEAVES FROM A PASSING LIFE.\n\nCHAPTER III.\n\nAU REVOIR.--THE PILGRIM\u2019S PROGRESS.\n\nWe showed Kenneth such wonders as Leighstone possessed, and his visit was\nto us at least a very pleasant one. My father was duly informed of his\nharboring a Papist in his house, and, though a little stiff and stately\nand a little more reserved in his conversation for a day or two, he could\nnot be other than himself--a hospitable and genial gentleman. And then\nKenneth was so frank and manly, so amiable and winning, that I believe,\nhad he solemnly assured us he was a cannibal, and avowed his voracious\nappetite for human flesh, not a soul would have felt disturbed in the\ncompany of so good-looking and well-bred a monster. Perhaps, after all,\nhad we questioned our hearts, the capital sin of Papistry lay in its\nclothes. Papistry was to my father, and more or less to all of us, the\nReligion of Rags. Leighstone had no Catholic church, and its Catholic\npopulation was restricted to a body of poor Irish laborers and their\nfamilies, who were most of them the poorest of the poor, and tramped\nafoot of a Sunday to a wretched little barn of a church eight miles\naway, which was served by a priest of a large town in the neighborhood.\nHowever much of the devil there might be among them, there was certainly\nlittle of what is generally understood by the world and the flesh. Yes,\ntheirs was a Religion of Rags, and it was at once odd and sad to see how\nrags did congregate around the Catholic church--an excellent church\nindeed for them and their wearers, but not exactly the place to drive\nto heaven in in a coach-and-four. It was a positive shock to my father\nto find so fine a young man as Kenneth Goodal a firm believer in the\nReligion of Rags. Of course he knew all about the Founder of Christianity\nbeing born in a stable, and so on; but that was a great and impressive\nlesson, not intended exactly to be imitated by every one. Princes in\ndisguise may play any pranks they please. Once the beggar\u2019s cloak is\nthrown off, everything is forgiven. We quite forget that hideous hump\nof Master Walter in the play when, just before the curtain drops, he\nannounces himself as \u201cnow the Earl of Rochdale.\u201d Indeed, it was a kind\nof social offence to see a young man of breeding, blood, and bearing,\nsuch as Kenneth Goodal, take his place among the rank and file, the army\nof tatterdemalions, that made up the modern Church of Rome, as it showed\nitself to the eyes of English respectability. Irish reapers, men and\nmaid-servants, cooks, beggars, the halt, the lame, and the blind--these\nmade up the army of modern Crusaders. S. Lawrence himself was very well,\nbut S. Lawrence\u2019s treasures were very ill. The descendants of Godfrey\nde Bouillon, the mail-clad knights of the Lion-Hearted Richard, my\nancestor Sir Roger, all made a very respectable body-guard for a faith\nand a church; but the followers of Peter the Hermit, the lower layer\nof society, the lazzaroni--these were certainly uninviting, and gave\nthe religion to which they belonged something of the aspect of a moral\nleperhood, to be separated from the multitude, and not even sniffed afar\noff. Yet here was a handsome young gallant like Kenneth Goodal plunging\ndeep into it, with eye of pride and steadfast heart, and a strange faith\nthat it was the right thing to do. It was positively perplexing, and\nbefore Kenneth left us my father had another attack of gout.\n\nKenneth had the skill and good taste never to obtrude unpleasant\ndiscussions. The only thing about him was a certain tone in his\nconversation that made you feel, as decidedly as though you saw it\nwritten in his open face, that he sailed under very pronounced colors. It\nwas no pirate, no decoy flag hung out to lure stray craft into danger,\nand give place at the last moment to the death\u2019s head and cross-bones.\nIt was the same in all weather and in all seas. \u201cThe Crusades only ended\nwith the cross,\u201d he had said to me in our first conversation together;\nand it seemed that I saw the cross painted on his bosom, and borne\nabout with him wherever he went--a very Knight-Hospitaller in the XIXth\ncentury. In our long rambles together he and I had many a hard tussle.\nI was the only one with whom he conversed on religious subjects at all,\nand when he went away he left the leaven working. The good seed had been\nsown, whether on stony ground, or among thorns, or on the good soil, God\nalone could tell.\n\nWe missed him greatly when he went. He was so thorough an antiquarian\nand such a capital chess-player that my father was irritated at his\nabsence, and had a second attack of the gout. Nellie was looking forward\nand already making preparations for the visit we had promised to pay his\nmother at Christmas; and as for me, I had lost my _alter ego_, and spent\nmore time than ever in the churchyard. Even Mattock noticed the frequency\nof my visits; for he said to me one morning, as I watched him digging a\nfresh grave: \u201cYe\u2019re a-comin\u2019 here too often, Master Roger. Graveyards and\ngraves and what\u2019s in \u2019em is loike enough company for me, but not for sich\nas ye. It an\u2019t whoalsome, it an\u2019t. Corpses grows on a man, they doos, and\nweighs him down in spoite of himself. I doant know what I should a-done\nthese twenty-foive year, only for the drams I takes. I couldn\u2019t a-kep up,\nI couldn\u2019t. There\u2019s somethin\u2019 about churchyeards and graves, a kind o\u2019\nairthiness loike, that creeps into a man\u2019s veins, as the years come on\nhim, that at times I doant seem to know exactly which is the livin\u2019 and\nwhich is the dead. We\u2019re all airth, Payrson Knowles says, and Payrson\nKnowles is a knowledgable man; but he doant come here too often. I know\nwe\u2019re all airth; for an\u2019t I seen it? An\u2019t I seen the body of as putty a\nyoung gal as was ever kissed under the mistletoe stretched out and laid\nin her grave afore the New Year dawned, and turned her out a year or so\nafter, a handful o\u2019 bones ye might take in a shovel and putt in a basket,\nand a doag wouldn\u2019t look at em? Ay, many a sich! I\u2019ve seen \u2019em set in\nrows in the pews within thear, and seen \u2019em go a-flirtin\u2019 and a-smirkin\u2019\nout through yon gate; and when the cholera cum, I\u2019ve laid \u2019em row by row\ni\u2019 the airth here. I\u2019ve got used to it, bless ye, and could a\u2019most tell\ntheir bones. I knows \u2019em all, and doant mind it a bit; and I shall feel\nkind a-comfortable when my son, whom I\u2019ve brought up to the bizness and\neddicated a-purpose for it, lays me by the side on \u2019em, yonder in that\ncorner where the sun shines of an evenin\u2019. But sich thoughts an\u2019t for\nyou, Master Roger. Git ye out into the sun, lad, and play while ye may.\nThere\u2019s no sort o\u2019 use in forestallin\u2019 yer time. Ye an\u2019t brought up to be\na grave-digger, and ye\u2019ve no sort a-business here. Its onlooky, I tell\nye, its onlooky. Graves is my business, not yourn. So git ye gone, Master\nRoger.\u201d\n\nOne effect came from my cogitations with myself and my conversations with\nRoger: I no longer went to church. Indeed, I had not been too regular\nan attendant at the Priory for some time past. Still, when, as not\nunfrequently happened, my father was laid up with the gout, I escorted\nNellie to church as in the old days, and thus sufficiently sustained the\nHerbert reputation for that steady devotion to public duties that was\nlooked for from the leading family in the place; and though Mr. Knowles,\nwho was a frequent visitor at our house, grew a little chilly in his\nreception of me when we met--I used to be a great favorite of his--he had\nnever undertaken to mention my delinquency to me. There was a certain\nwarmth in his agreement with my father, when that good gentleman broke\nout on his favorite subject of the young men of the day, that was very\ndifferent from the old, deprecatory manner in which Mr. Knowles would\nrefer to the hot blood of youth, and the danger of keeping it too much\nin restraint. I came to the resolution that I would go to no church any\nmore until I went to some church once for all; until I was satisfied\nthat I believed firmly and truly in the worship at which I assisted.\nAnything else seemed to me now a sham that I could no more endure than\nif I set up a Chinese image in my own chamber, and burned incense before\nit. This was all very well for one Sunday or two. But my father\u2019s attack\nwas at this time unusually prolonged; and when, Sunday after Sunday, I\nconducted Nellie to the church-door, and there left her, to meet and\nescort her home when service was over, my strange conduct, unknown to\nmyself, began to be remarked in Leighstone, and assumed the awful aspect\nin a small place of studied bad example. Poor Nellie did not know what to\nmake of me; far less Mr. Knowles. It seemed that some silly young men of\nthe town, taking their cue from me, thought it the fashionable thing to\nconduct their relatives to the church-door, leave them there, and often\nspend the interval in somewhat boisterous behavior outside that on more\nthan one occasion disturbed the services; so that at length Mr. Knowles\nwas compelled to mention the matter in general terms from the pulpit, and\ncame out with quite a stirring sermon on the influence of bad example\non the young by those who, if respect for God and God\u2019s house had no\nweight with them, might at least pay some regard to what their position\nin society, not to say in their own circle, required. Poor Nellie came\nhome in tears that day, and I joked with her on the unusual eloquence of\nMr. Knowles. The final upshot of it all was a visit on the part of that\nreverend gentleman to my father, who was just recovering from his attack;\nand as ill-luck would have it, I walked into the room just at the moment\nwhen my poor father, between the twinges of conscience and the twinges of\na relapse resulting from Mr. Knowles\u2019 eloquent and elaborate monologue on\nmy depravity, had reached that point of indignation that only needs the\nslightest additional pressure to produce an immediate explosion.\n\n\u201cWhat is this I hear, sir?\u201d he asked me immediately in a tone that sent\nall the Herbert blood tingling through every vein in my body, the more so\nthat I observed the look of righteous indignation planted on the jolly\nvisage of Mr. Knowles. \u201cWhat is this I hear? That you refuse to go to\nchurch any more, and that, as a natural consequence, the whole parish is\nfollowing your example?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe whole parish!\u201d I ejaculated in amazement.\n\n\u201cYes, sir; and what else should they do when the heads of the parish\nneglect their duty as Christians and as English gentlemen?\u201d\n\n\u201cDo their duty, I suppose; go or stay, as it pleases them,\u201d I responded\nsullenly. Mr. Knowles rose up to depart with the air of one who was about\nto shake the dust off his feet against me; but my father detained him.\n\n\u201cMr. Knowles, will you oblige me by remaining? I have put up with this\nboy\u2019s insolence too long. It must end somewhere. It shall end here.\u201d He\nwas white and trembling with rage; but his tone lowered and his voice\ngrew steady as he went on. I was alarmed for his sake.\n\n\u201cLook here, sir. There is no more argument in a matter of this kind\nbetween you and your father. There is no argument in a question of plain\nand positive duty. Your family has been and still is looked up to in this\ntown; and rightly so, Mr. Knowles will permit me to add.\u201d Mr. Knowles\nbowed a gracious but solemn assent. \u201cI have attended that church since I\nwas a child, as my father did before me, and as the Herberts have done\nfor generations, as befitted loyal and right-minded gentlemen. You have\ndone the same until recently. What has come over you of late I don\u2019t\nknow, and, indeed, I don\u2019t care. What I do care about is that I have\na position to sustain in this town, and a public duty to perform. The\nHerberts are now, as they have ever been, known to all as a staunch,\nloyal, church-going, God-fearing race. As the head of the family I\ninsist, and will insist while I live, that that character be maintained.\nWhen I am gone, you may do as you please. But until that event occurs you\nwill take your old place by the side of your father and sister, or find\nyourself another residence. Mr. Knowles, oblige me by staying to dinner.\u201d\n\nI was not present at dinner that day. I saw that expostulation was\nuseless, and accordingly held my tongue. I knew of old that there was\na certain pass where reasoning of any kind was lost on my father,\nand a resolution taken at such a moment was irrevocably fixed. Like\nfather, like son. Even while he was addressing me I had quietly\nresolved at all hazards to disobey his order. So much for all my fine\ncogitations regarding the rules of right and wrong. Their first outcome\nwas a deliberate resolve at any hazard to disobey a loving and good\nparent, backed up by all the spiritual power of the church and things\nestablished, as represented in the person of Mr. Knowles. What my precise\nduty under the circumstances was I am not prepared to say, although I\nknow very well that the opinion of that highly respectable authority\nknown as common-sense would decide the question against me. I was not\nyet quite of age. If I belonged to any religion at all, I belonged to\nthat in which I had been brought up. For a young gentleman who professed\nto be so anxious to do what was right, the duty of obedience to his\nfather in a matter where of all things that father was surely entitled to\nobedience, and where the effort to obey cost so little, where the result\nas regarded others could not but be satisfactory, not to say exemplary,\nlooked remarkably like an opportunity of regulating one\u2019s conduct by the\nbest of rules at once. In fact, everything, according to common-sense,\nvoted dead against me. On the other hand there lay a great doubt--a doubt\nsharpened and strengthened in the present instance by the very natural\nresentment of a young gentleman who, perhaps unconsciously, had come to\nregard many of his father\u2019s opinions with something very like contempt,\nbeing lectured publicly--the public being restricted to Mr. Knowles--by\nthat father, as though, instead of having just emerged from his teens, he\nwere still a schoolboy. Rebellion begins with the incipient moustache.\nThose scrubby little blotches of growing hair on the upper lip of youth\nmean much more than youth\u2019s laughing friends can see in them. Their\nroots are the roots of manhood. As the line grows and strengthens and\ndefines itself, each new hair marks a mighty step forward into the great\narena to which all boyhood looks with eagerness. It is the open charter\nto rights that were not dreamed of before. And if the artist\u2019s skill\ncan advance its growth by the use of delicate pigments, why, so much\nthe better. I was a man, and it was a man\u2019s duty to assert himself, to\ndo what was becoming in a man, whatever the consequence might be. All\nwhich meant that I was determined to rebel. Consequently, I declined to\nmeet the Reverend Mr. Knowles at dinner. I strolled out, with doubtless\na more independent stride than usual, to study the situation in all its\nbearings, and resolve upon my future course of conduct; for in two days\nit would be Sunday, and the crisis would have arrived.\n\nThe argument, interesting as it was to myself at the time, would scarcely\nprove equally so to the reader, who will thank me for sparing him the\ndetails. Doubtless many a one can look back into his own life and find a\nsimilar instance of resolute disobedience, which, it is to be hoped, he\nhas as bitterly repented as I did this. Happy is he if he can recall only\none such instance; thrice happy if he is innocent of any! I was moral\ncoward enough to forestall my sentence by flight. I was young, strong,\nand active, though hitherto I had had no very definite object whereon\nto exercise my activity. The world was all before me; and the world, as\nwe all know, wears a very fascinating face to the youth of twenty who\nhas never yet looked behind the mask and seen all the ugly things that\npractical philosophers assure us are to be found there. To him it is a\nface wondrous fair; and heaven be thanked for the deception, if deception\nit be, say I. The eyes beam with gentleness and love. Not a wrinkle marks\nthe smooth visage; not a frown disturbs it. On the broad, open brow is\nwritten honesty; on the rosy lips are alluring smiles; in the tones of\nthe soft, low voice there is magical music. What if some see on that\nsame brow the mark of Cain; on the lips, cruelty; in the eyes, death;\non all the face a calculating coldness? Such are those who have failed,\nwho have missed life\u2019s meaning and cast away their chances--youthful\nphilosophers who have been crossed in love, or voluptuaries of threescore\nand ten. But to high-hearted youth the world holds up a magic mirror,\nwherein he sees a fairy landscape full of harmony, and peace, and beauty,\nand love, all grouped around a central figure surpassing all, beautifying\nall--himself and his destiny!\n\nYes, I would go out into the world, like the prince in the\nfairy-tales--he is always a prince--to seek my fortune. Up to the\npresent I had done absolutely nothing for myself. Everything had run in\na monotonous groove mapped out according to the conventional rule, as\nregularly as a railway, and without even the pleasing excitement of an\naccident. Why not begin now? Why not carve out my own destiny--carve is\nan excellent term--in my own way? \u201cThe world was mine oyster, which with\nmy sword I\u2019d open.\u201d What though the oyster was rather large, who said he\nwas going to swallow it? It was the pearl within I sought; perish the\nesculent! Who knows what discoveries I may not make, what impenetrable\nforests pierce, what lonely princesses deliver from their charmed sleep,\nwhat giant monsters slay on the way, bringing back the spoils some day\nto my father--some day! say in six months or so--and, laying them at his\nfeet, cry out in triumph, \u201cFather, behold the prodigal returned, not like\nhim of old, who had squandered his inheritance and fed on the husks of\nswine, but as a mighty conqueror, the admired of fair women and the envy\nof brave men! Father, this mighty potentate is I, Roger, your son, who\nwould not bow the knee to Knowles!\u201d\n\nIt was a pleasing picture, and took my fancy amazingly. Had any young\nfriend of mine come to consult me at that moment on a similar project in\nhis own case, I believe my counsel to him would have been of the sagest.\nI would have told him to go home and sleep over the matter; to be a good\nboy and not anger a loving parent. I would have advised him that there\nis nothing like doing the duty that lies plain before us; that there was\na world of wisdom and of truth in that sage maxim of S. Augustine, _Age\nquod agis_--Do what you do; that his schemes were visionary, his plans\nthose of a schoolboy, who clearly enough knew nothing whatever of the\nworld (whose depths, of course, I had sounded), who might have read books\nenough, but had not the slightest experience of that which is never to\nbe found in books--real life; that, in pursuit of a passing fancy, he\nwas neglecting the real business of life, and embarking on a voyage to\nNowhere in the good ship Nothing, and so on. That is the advice I should\nhave delivered to any of my young friends who were idiots enough to think\nthat _they_ could venture to set out on such a visionary road alone\nand without map or chart to guide them. That is how we should all have\nadvised our friends. But with ourselves--with ourselves--ah! the case\nis different. _We_ can always do what it would be the most presumptuous\nfolly in others to attempt. _We_ can safely thrust our hand into the\nfire, up to the elbow even, where another dare not trust the tip of a\nlittle finger. _We_ can touch pitch, and never show a soil. _We_ can go\ndown into hell, and come back laughing at the devil, who dare not touch\n_us_. What would be moral death to another is a mere tonic to us. And\nyet, and yet, He who taught us to pray gave us as a petition: \u201cFather, \u2026\nlead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.\u201d\n\nMy mind was made up; and let me add that the fear of putting my father\nto the trying test of acting upon his resolution in my regard had no\nsmall share in shaping my resolve. I did not see him that night, and on\nthe next day he was confined to his room by an attack that necessitated\ncalling in the doctor, and kept Nellie, whom I did not wish to see, by\nhis side most of the day. I felt that I could not meet her eye without\ndivulging all. I had never done anything that would cause more than a\npassing care to those who loved me, and I now moved about the house\nas though I were about to commit or had already committed a great\ncrime. Not accustomed to deception, it seemed to me that any passing\nstranger--let alone Fairy Nell, who knew me through and through, and\nhad counted every hair of that incipient moustache already hinted at\nas it came, from whom I had never kept a secret, not even the pigments\nlaid apart for the cultivation of that same moustache--would have\nread in my guilty face, as plainly as though it were written down on\nparchment, \u201cRoger Herbert, you are going to run away from home--not a\npleasant excursion, my fine fellow, but a genuine bolt!\u201d I packed up a\nfew necessaries, and collected such stray cash of my own as I could lay\nhands on. The sum seemed a small fortune for a man resolved on entering\non such a resolute life of hard labor of some kind or another as I\nhad marked out for myself. Long before that was exhausted I should of\ncourse be in a position to provide for myself. How that self-support was\nto come about I had not yet exactly decided on; but that was to be an\nafter-consideration. While I was waiting for the night to come down and\nshield my guilty purpose, Nellie stole in from my father\u2019s room to tell\nme he was sleeping, and that Dr. Fenwick said a good night\u2019s rest would\nrelieve him from all danger, and in two or three days he would be himself\nagain. This comforted me and enabled me to be better on my guard against\nthe witcheries of Fairy, who came and sat down near me; for she had heard\nor guessed at the dispute that had arisen, and, like an angel of a woman,\nnow that she had tended my father, came to administer a little crumb of\ncomfort to me before going to bed. What an effort it cost me to appear\ndrowsy and to yawn! I thought every yawn would have strangled me; but I\nwas resolved to be on my guard.\n\n\u201cHow dreadfully sleepy you are to-night, Roger!\u201d said the Fairy at last.\n\n\u201cAm I?\u201d asked the Ogre, with a tremendous yawn.\n\n\u201cWhy, you\u2019ve done nothing but gape ever since I came in. I believe you\nare getting quite lazy and good-for-nothing.\u201d\n\n\u201cI believe so too.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, why don\u2019t you do something?\u201d\n\n\u201cI think I will.\u201d Another yawn. \u201cI\u2019ll go to bed. Ten o\u2019clock, by Jove!\nWhat a shocking hour for well-behaved young ladies to be up! Come, Fairy,\nI will do something some day. Is father better?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, he is sleeping quite soundly.\u201d Shaking her head and speaking in a\nsolemn little whisper: \u201c_O you naughty boy!_\u201d\n\nClear eyes, clear heart, clear conscience! How your mild innocence\npierces through and through us, rebuking the secret that we think so\nsafely hidden in the far-away depths of our souls! That gentle little\nreproof of my sister smote me to the heart.\n\n\u201cWhy, Roger, what is the matter with you?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s a fly; a--something in my eye--nothing. Let go my hands, Nell.\u201d\n\n\u201cLook me in the face, sir. You are crying, Roger. You have been\npretending. You were not sleepy a bit. Dear, dear! Don\u2019t go on like that;\nyou make me cry too.\u201d\n\n\u201cNellie, my own darling--Fairy--there, let me blow the candle out. I was\nalways a coward by candle-light. There, now I can talk. Nellie,\u201d I went\non, clutching her close, her face wet with my tears as well as her own,\nand white as marble in the moonlight--\u201cNellie, I have been an awfully\nwicked fellow, haven\u2019t I?\u201d\n\n\u201cN-no\u201d--sob, sob.\n\n\u201cYes, I have; and father is very angry with me, isn\u2019t he?\u201d\n\n\u201cN-no.\u201d\n\n\u201cDo you think that if I were to do something very bad you could forgive\nme, Nellie?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou c-couldn\u2019t do--anything b-bad--at all.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, now listen. I haven\u2019t done much harm, I believe, so far; neither\nhave I done much good. And now I make you a solemn promise that from this\nnight out I will honestly try all I can, not only to do no harm, but to\ndo good--something for others as well as myself. Is that a fair promise,\nNell?\u201d\n\n\u201cDear, darling old Roger!\u201d she murmured, kissing me. \u201cI knew he was good\nall the time. I know--you needn\u2019t say any more. You are coming to church\nwith me to-morrow. How pleased papa will be, and how pleased I am! Here,\nyou shall have my own book to keep as a token of the promise. I\u2019ll run\nand fetch it at once.\u201d\n\nShe tripped up-stairs and came back breathless, putting the book in my\nhand.\n\n\u201cThere, Roger; that seals our promise. I\u2019ve just written inside, \u2018Roger\u2019s\npromise to Nellie,\u2019 and the date to remind you. That\u2019s all. And now papa\nwill be well again. O Roger!\u201d--she came and kissed me again, as I turned\nmy back to the window--\u201cyou have made me so happy. Good-night.\u201d\n\nI could not trust myself to speak again and undeceive her. I kissed her\nand did not look at her any more. I heard her room-door close, and, after\nstanding a long time where she left me, I followed her up-stairs. I stole\nto my father\u2019s door and listened. I could hear his regular breathing;\nhe was sound asleep. I do not know how long I listened, but at length I\ncrept away to my own room. My resolution was terribly shaken by Nellie\u2019s\ninnocent confidence in me. It is so much easier to endure harshness or\nsuspicion from persons to whom you know you are about to give pain. Why\ndidn\u2019t she scold me, or turn up her pretty nose at me, or stick a pin\nin me, or do something dreadful to me--anything rather than believe me\nthe best fellow in the world? But, after all, could I not return when I\npleased? I had often been away before for a month or more on a visit to\nsome friends--for months together at college. Why should I hesitate to go\nnow?\n\nPoor Nellie\u2019s book was placed in the very bottom of my bag, and then I\nsat down and wrote the following letter:\n\n    \u201cNELLIE: I am going away for a little while--for a month or\n    more, probably. You must not expect to hear anything of me\n    within that time. If you do hear of me, it will probably be\n    through Kenneth Goodal. Indeed, I leave England on Monday, and\n    my return will depend altogether upon circumstances. Nobody\n    knows of my going or of my destination--not even Kenneth; so\n    that it will be useless to make any inquiries. Give my love\n    to my dear father, and tell him that, wherever I may be, the\n    thought of him will always accompany me and prevent me from\n    doing anything unworthy his son and your loving brother,\n\n                                                             ROGER.\n\n    \u201cP.S.--I will keep my promise.\u201d\n\nThis note, sealed and addressed to Nellie, I left upon my table. I waited\nuntil not a sound was to be heard through all the house, and again left\nmy room to listen at my father\u2019s door. I listened at Nellie\u2019s also.\nNothing could be heard in either. They were sound asleep--dreaming,\nperhaps, of me. My window overlooked the garden, and a soft grass-plot\nbeneath received myself and my bag noiselessly, as I made the drop I had\nso often done in play, to the mingled alarm and admiration of Fairy.\nAfter a walk of about five minutes I lit a cigar, and felt somewhat more\ncompanionable than before. The moon had gone down long since, and a faint\nflush in the east low down on the horizon betokened the dawn. There was a\nkeenness in the air and a freshness all around that quickened the blood\nand inspirited the faint heart. The sense of freedom awoke in me with\nevery stride that carried me away from my father\u2019s house out into the\nworld, whose largeness I was beginning to feel for the first time. There\nwas something about the whole enterprise of novelty and boldness and\nchange that grew on me every mile of the way. I thought less and less\nof the consternation and grief I might occasion to those I left behind\nme, and whose existence was bound up in mine. And striding along in this\nframe of mind, I reached Gnaresbridge, where I was not known. My walk of\neight miles had given me a tremendous appetite. I entered the railway\nhotel, and, by way of beginning at once my life of privation and economy,\nordered a right royal breakfast, the best the railway hotel could offer.\nI then took a first-class ticket for London, engaged a room for one\nnight at the Charing Cross Hotel, and, finding my own company not of the\nliveliest, strolled out into the streets.\n\nThe London streets are beyond measure dull on a Sunday. There is a\nconstrained air of good-behavior and drilled respectability about the\ncrowds going to and coming from church at the stated hours that strikes\none with a chill after the bustle and noise of the other six days of the\nweek. Religion looks so oppressively dull and hopelessly solemn. The\ncitizens seem to run up the shutters in front of their own persons as\nwell as of their goods; to bolt and bar and case themselves in a wooden\nstolidity of dull propriety that is mistaken for religion. I do not\nsay that it is not well done; I only say that to me, at least, on this\noccasion it was disagreeable. The light spirits I had picked up on the\nroad dwindled down immediately at sight of the solemn city, with its\nsolemn crowds. The sombre gray of my surroundings seemed to settle on my\nmind and heart like ashes from which every spark had gone out. I fell\na-musing, and involuntarily followed one of the streams of people that\nwere moving along slowly to some place of worship. I felt sick at heart,\nand wished for the morrow to come that was to bear me away somewhere out\nof this tame and conventional life, where religion as well as business\nfollowed a fixed routine. Before I knew or had time to think how I\nhad got there, I found myself in a Catholic church. I knew it to be a\nCatholic church by the altar, and the crucifixes, and the Stations of the\nCross around the walls, and the general appearance of the congregation.\nThere is something about a Catholic congregation that distinguishes\nit at once from all others. Heaven seems a happier place somehow from\na Catholic point of view. I had visited Catholic churches before, but\nwas never present at the Mass, and was about to retire as soon as I\ndiscovered my whereabouts, when curiosity, mingled with the conviction\nthat I might be as comfortably miserable there as outside, detained me,\nand I remained. Somebody directed me to a seat close to the altar, where\nI could see everything perfectly.\n\nThe service was varied and full of dignified movements, but I could not\nunderstand its meaning. The singing was good, it seemed to my poor ear;\nbut I could not say the same for the sermon. A quiet, pious-looking\ngentleman preached from the altar a long and, to me, tedious discourse.\nHe seemed in earnest, however, and now and then his pale, worn face\nwould light up--once or twice especially when he spoke of the \u201cMother of\nGod.\u201d Indeed, I found myself just becoming interested when the sermon\nconcluded. There was something far more impressive to me than the\npriest\u2019s discourse, than the solemn music, than the gleaming lights, than\nthe slow and reverent movements at the altar, in the congregation itself.\nThe people preached a silent but most telling sermon. I looked furtively\naround, and watched them. Whether they were mistaken or not, whether they\nwere idolaters or not, there was certainly no sham about them; after all,\nthere was something thorough about this Religion of Rags. Beyond doubt\nthey prayed in real, downright earnest. One man differed from another;\none woman from her sister; this one was in rags, that in silks; this\nman might be a lord, and his neighbor a beggar; but there was something\ncommon to them all. They seemed, as they knelt there, possessed of one\nheart and one soul. They appeared even one body. Their prayer seemed\nuniversal and to pass from one to another out and up to God. All seemed\nto _feel_ an Invisible Presence, which, from association, doubtless,\nI could have persuaded myself that I also felt. A bell tinkles, once,\ntwice, thrice; once, twice, thrice again. There is an instantaneous hush;\nthe low breathing of the organ has ceased; and every head and heart is\nbowed down in silent and awful adoration. Involuntarily I also knelt and\nbowed.\n\nDeeply impressed, I left the church at the conclusion of the service,\nand seemed to be walking in a dream, when a light touch on my shoulder\nstartled and recalled me to my senses, while a voice whispered in my ear:\n\n\u201cHeretic, heretic! what dost thou here?\u201d\n\nIt was Kenneth Goodal who stood smiling before me. The tears sprang to my\neyes, but he was too much himself to notice them. He drew my arm in his,\nand led me to a carriage that was waiting near the door of the church.\nWithin the carriage sat a beautiful lady, whose likeness to Kenneth was\ntoo apparent not to recognize her at once as his mother. \u201cI have brought\nyou a treasure,\u201d said Kenneth, addressing her; \u201cthis is the very Roger\nHerbert of whom I have spoken to you so much. Who would have dreamed of\ncatching my heretic at Mass?\u201d We were rolling along through the dull\nstreets by this time, but it was wonderful to think how their dulness\nhad suddenly departed. \u201cYes, actually at Mass. And I verily believe he\nblessed himself and said his prayers like a true Christian. And where of\nall places should they plant you but right in front of me?\u201d\n\nKenneth\u2019s mother was a sweet lady--just the kind of woman, indeed, I\nshould have expected Kenneth\u2019s mother to be. To great intelligence and\nthat keen power of observation so noticeable in her son were added the\ncharms of a face and person that defied time, while the veil of true\nChristian womanhood fell over, softened, and chastened all. She was a\nfervent Catholic, who went about doing good. Kenneth laughingly told me\nthat her conversion had cost him a great deal more trouble and difficulty\nthan his own; but hers once attained, his father\u2019s followed almost as a\nmatter of course. Mrs. Goodal had always been so pure and blameless in\nher own life that her very excellence constituted a most difficult but\nintangible barrier to her son\u2019s theological batteries. Even if she became\na Catholic, what could she be other than she was? she had asked him once.\nOf what crimes was she guilty, that she should change her religion at\nthe whim of a youthful enthusiast? Did she not pray to God every day of\nher life? Did she not give alms, visit the sick, comfort the sorrowful,\nclothe the naked? What did the Catholic ladies do that she did not?\nShe was not, and did not mean to become, a Sister of Charity, devoting\nherself absolutely to prayer and good works. Her place was in the world.\nGod had placed her there, and there she would remain, doing her duty to\nthe best of her ability as a Christian wife and mother.\n\nIt was certainly a hard case, and she was greatly strengthened in her\nposition by her grand ally, Lady Carpton. Both these excellent women\ngrieved sorely over Kenneth\u2019s defection; for Kenneth was an especial\nfavorite of Lady Carpton\u2019s, and had been smiled upon by her fair\ndaughter, Maud. The two ladies had taken it into their heads that\nKenneth and Maud were admirably matched, and their marriage had long\nago been fixed upon by the respective mammas, who never kept a secret\nfrom each other since they had been bosom friends together at school.\nThe announcement of Kenneth\u2019s joining the Religion of Rags fell like a\nbombshell into the camp of the allies, scattering confusion and dealing\ndestruction on all sides. Lady Carpton washed her hands of him, and\ncame to the immediate conclusion that \u201cthe boy\u2019s mental obliquity was\ninexplicable. The rash and ridiculous step he had taken was fatal to\nall his prospects in this life, not to speak of those in the next. He\nhad inexcusably abandoned the social position for which his connections\nand his rational gifts had eminently fitted him. She had been deceived,\nfatally deceived, in him. He had destroyed his own future, disgraced his\nfamily, and consigned himself henceforward to a life of uselessness and\noblivion.\u201d\n\nLady Carpton, when fairly roused, had an eloquence as well as a temper\nof her own. Majestically washing her hands of Kenneth, she immediately\nencouraged the attentions of Lord Cheshunt to her daughter. From jackets\nupwards Lord Cheshunt had worshipped the very ground upon which Maud\ntrod, as far as it was given to the soul of Lord Cheshunt to worship\nanything or anybody at all. Maud resembled her mother. Great as her\nliking--it was never more--for Kenneth had been, her virtuous indignation\nwas greater. With some sighs, doubtless, perhaps with some tears, she\nrenounced for ever Kenneth the renegade, and took in his stead, as a\ndutiful daughter should do, her share in the lands, appurtenances,\nrent-roll, and all other belongings of Lord Cheshunt, with his lordship\ninto the bargain. It was on her return from the bridal trip that her\nmamma, with tears of vexation in her eyes, informed her of the cruel blow\nthat the friend of her girlhood had dealt her--out of small personal\nspite, she was certain. The friend of her girlhood was Mrs. Goodal, who\nhad actually followed that scapegrace son of hers to Rome--had positively\nbecome a Catholic! And as though to confirm the wretched saying that\nmisfortunes never come alone, between them they had dragged into their\nfatal web that dear, good-natured, unsuspecting Mr. Goodal, just at the\nmoment when he was about to be returned in High Church interest for his\nnative borough of Royston. Thus \u201cthe cause\u201d had lost another vote, at a\ntime, too, when \u201cthe cause\u201d sadly needed recruiting in the parliamentary\nranks. \u201cMy dear,\u201d she said impressively to Maud, \u201cyou have had a very\nfortunate escape. Who knows what might have become of you? Lord Cheshunt\nmay not possess that young man\u2019s intellect\u201d--and Maud was already obliged\nto confess that superabundance of intellect was scarcely Lord Cheshunt\u2019s\nbesetting weakness--\u201cbut you see to what mental depravity the fatal gift\nof intellect may conduct a self-willed young man. Poor dear Lord Byron\nis just such another instance. Mark my word for it, Kenneth Goodal will\nbecome a Jesuit yet!\u201d--a fatality that to Lady Carpton\u2019s imagination\npresented little short of the satanic.\n\nI spent a very pleasant day and evening with the Goodals--so pleasant\nthat it was not until I found myself saying \u201cgood-night\u201d to Kenneth in\nthe street that the occurrences of the last few days flashed upon me.\n\u201cYou will not forget your promise of coming to-morrow,\u201d he said, as he\nwas shaking hands.\n\n\u201cTo-morrow! Did I promise to spend to-morrow with you?\u201d I asked.\n\n\u201cSo Mrs. Goodal will assure you on your arrival.\u201d\n\n\u201cGood heavens! did I make so foolish a promise? I cannot have thought of\nwhat I was saying,\u201d I muttered, half to myself.\n\n\u201cWell, I will call for you in the morning. By the bye, where are you\nstaying?\u201d asked Kenneth.\n\n\u201cNo, no. The fact is, I purposed leaving town again immediately. My\nvisit was merely a flying one. You must make my excuses to your mother,\nKenneth.\u201d\n\n\u201cShe will never hear of them. Traitor! thou hast promised, and thy\npromise is sacred.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt was really a mistake. Well, if I decide on remaining in town over\nto-morrow, I will come. If--if I should not come, tell your mother how\ncharmed I was with her, and with your father also. Kenneth, I should be\nso glad if she would pay Nellie a visit--my sister, you know. Indeed, I\nam very anxious that she should see Nellie as soon as possible.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut you forget again that you owe us a visit. Why not come at once? You\nhad better stay and send for your father and sister.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, I will sleep on the matter. Good-night, old fellow. In the\nmeanwhile do not forget my request.\u201d\n\nAgain my resolution was terribly shaken. I went over the entire story,\nand weighed all the _pros_ and _cons_ of the question, as I walked\nback to my hotel. I had not yet even determined where to go, still\nless what to do. On arriving at the hotel I went to the smoking-room,\nfeeling no inclination for slumber. It had only a single occupant--a\nnaval officer, to judge by his costume. He reached me a light, and made\nsome conventional remark on the weather, or some such subject. He was a\njovial-looking, red-faced man of about forty or forty-five, with a merry\neye and a pleasant voice, and a laugh that had in it something of the\ndepth and the strength and the healthy flavor of the sea. My cigar soon\ncoming to an end, he offered me one of his own with the remark:\n\n\u201cI like a pipe myself, with good strong Cavendish steeped in rum. The\nrum gives it a wholesome flavor. But ashore I always smoke cigars. You\nwant a stiffish bit o\u2019 sea-breeze up, and then you can enjoy the true\nflavor of a pipe of Cavendish. All your Havanas in the world aren\u2019t half\nas sweet. But ashore here, why, Lord, Lord! a pipe o\u2019 Cavendish would\nsmell from one end o\u2019 the city to t\u2019other, and all London would turn up\nits nose. So I\u2019m obliged to put up with Havanas,\u201d said the captain (I was\nsure he was a captain) ruefully.\n\n\u201cWhat is a mortification to you would be a pleasure to many,\u201d I remarked\nsagely.\n\n\u201cEver been to sea?\u201d he asked abruptly.\n\n\u201cNever,\u201d I responded laconically.\n\nHe looked at me with a kind of pity in his glance.\n\n\u201cWhat! never been outside o\u2019 this cranky little island, where men have\nhardly got room to blow their noses?\u201d he asked in amazement.\n\n\u201cNever,\u201d I responded again. \u201cAnd what\u2019s more, up to the day before\nyesterday I never wished to go.\u201d\n\nMy seafaring friend sighed and smoked in silence. The silence grew\nsolemn, and I thought he would not condescend to address me again. At\nlength, however, he said:\n\n\u201cYou\u2019re a Londoner, I guess.\u201d\n\nI guessed negatively; but not at all abashed at his mistake, he went on:\n\n\u201cWell, it\u2019s all the same. All Londoners an\u2019t born in London, any more\nthan all Englishmen are born in England. But they\u2019re all the same. A\nLondoner never cares to study any geography beyond his sixpenny map o\u2019\nLondon. The Marble Arch and Temple Bar, Hyde Park and London Bridge, are\nhis points o\u2019 the compass. Guild Hall and the Houses o\u2019 Parliament mean\nmore to him than the East or West Indies, the Himalaya Mountains, North\nor South America, or the Pyramids. The Strand is bigger than the equator,\nand the National Gallery a finer building than S. Peter\u2019s. Your thorough,\nhome-bred Englishman is about the most vigorously ignorant man I\u2019ve ever\nsailed across; and I\u2019m an Englishman myself who say it. I do believe\nit\u2019s their very ignorance that has made them masters of the best part of\nthe world, and the worst masters the world has ever seen. They never see\nor know or believe anything outside of London, and the consequence is,\nthey\u2019re always making mighty blunders. There, there\u2019s a yarn, and a yarn\nalways makes me thirsty. What will you drink?\u201d\n\nI found my new companion a shrewd and observant man under a somewhat\nrough coating. He was captain of a steamer belonging to one of the great\nlines that ply between England and the United States, and his vessel\nsailed for New York the next day. Here was an opportunity of ending at\nonce all my doubts and hesitations. But on broaching the subject to the\ncaptain I found him grow at once cautious, not to say suspicious. That\nfatal admission about my never having been to sea at all told terribly\nagainst me. Then he wanted to know if I had a companion of any kind with\nme, which I took to be sailor\u2019s English for asking if it were a runaway\nmatch. Satisfied on this point, he grew more suspicious still. Running\naway with a young lass he could understand, and perhaps be brought to\npardon; but if it was not that, then what earthly object could I have in\ngoing to New York all alone?\n\n\u201cThe fact is, youngster,\u201d he blurted out at length, \u201cyou see it an\u2019t\nall fair and above-board with you. Youngsters like you don\u2019t make\nup their minds in half an hour to go to New York; and if they do,\nthey\u2019ve no business to. If you was a little younger, I should call in a\npoliceman, and tell him you had run away from home. I don\u2019t want to help\nyoungsters--nor anybody else, for that matter--to run into scrapes. There\nwill be some one crying for you, you know, and that an\u2019t pleasant now.\nNow, then, out with it, and let\u2019s have the whole story. There\u2019s something\nwrong, and a clean breast, like a good sea-sickness, will relieve you.\nIt\u2019s a little unpleasant at first, but you\u2019ll feel all the better for it\nafterwards. Trust an old sailor\u2019s word for that.\u201d\n\nI do not attempt to give the pleasant nautical terms with which my\nexcellent friend, the captain, garnished his discourse. However, I told\nhim my story, sufficiently at least to diminish, if not quite to allay,\nthe worthy man\u2019s scruples about my projected trip, which, of course,\nwas only to last until the storm at home blew over. Finally, at a very\nearly hour in the morning it was resolved that I should make my first\nvoyage with the captain, and that same day I penned, and in the afternoon\ndespatched, the following note to Kenneth:\n\n    \u201cMY DEAR KENNETH: By the time you receive this I shall be\n    on my way to the United States. I said nothing to you of my\n    plans last night, because, had I done so, I fear they might\n    not have been put in execution without some unnecessary pain\n    and difficulties. My chief reason for leaving England is the\n    great doubt and perplexity that have fallen upon me. Any\n    hope of clearing up such doubt in Leighstone would be absurd.\n    There all persons and all things run in established grooves,\n    and are more or less under the influence of traditions, many\n    of which have for me utterly lost all force and meaning. A\n    little rubbing with the world, a little hard work, of which I\n    know nothing, the sweetness as well as the anxiety of genuine\n    struggle in places and among persons where I shall be simply\n    another fellow-struggler, can do no great harm, even if it does\n    no great good. At all events, it will be a change; and a change\n    of some kind I had long contemplated. A little difficulty with\n    my father about not attending church as usual scarcely hastened\n    my resolution to leave Leighstone. I should feel very grateful\n    to you if you could assure him of this, as I took the liberty\n    on leaving of telling my sister that they would next hear of\n    me in all probability through you. My father\u2019s kind heart and\n    love for me may lead him to lay too great stress upon what in\n    reality nowise affected my conduct and feelings towards him.\n    Time is up, I find, and I can only add that wherever I may go\n    I shall carry with me, warm in my heart, the friendship so\n    strangely begun between us.\n\n                                                        \u201cR. HERBERT.\u201d\n\nI do not purpose giving here the history of my first struggles with the\nworld, as they contain nothing particularly exciting or romantic. The\ncircumstances that led to my connection with Mrs. Jinks and Mr. Culpepper\nare easily explained. My small fortune disappeared with astonishing\nrapidity, and, unless I did something to replenish my dwindling purse\nvery speedily, there was nothing left save to beg or starve. I would\nneither write home nor to Kenneth, being vain enough to believe that\nthe smallest scrap of paper with my address on it would be the signal\nfor the emigration by next steamer of half Leighstone, with no other\npurpose than to see me, its lost hero. Poverty led me to Mr. Culpepper\namong others, and the same stern guardian introduced me to Mrs. Jinks.\nI must confess--and the confession may be a warning to young gentlemen\ninclined at all to grow weary of a snug home--that any particular romance\nattached to my venture very soon faded out of sight. The world was not\nquite so pleasant a friend as I had expected. The practical philosophers\nwere right after all. Dear, dear! how the wrinkles began to multiply in\nhis face, and what suspicious glances shot out of those eyes, that grew\ncolder and colder as my boots began to run down at heel, and my elbows\ngave indications of a violent struggle for air. It required a vast amount\nof resolution to keep me from volunteering to work my passage back to\nEngland. I was often lonely, often weary, often sad, often hungry even.\nBut lonely, weary, sad, and hungry as I might be, I soon contrived to\nbecome acquainted with others who were many times more sad, lonely, and\nweary than I--poor wretches to whom my position at its worst seemed that\nof a prince. The most wretched man in all this world is yet to be found.\nOf that truth I became more deeply convinced every day. It was a fact\nheld up constantly before my eyes, and I believe that it did me good. It\nwas an excellent antidote to anything in the shape of pride. Pride! Great\nheavens! what wretched little, creeping, struggling mortals most of us\nwere; crawling on from day to day, inch by inch, little by little, now\nover a little mound that seemed so high, and took such infinite labor to\nreach; now down in a little hollow that seemed the very depths, and yet\nwas only a few inches lower than yesterday\u2019s elevation. There we were,\ngasping and struggling for light and food and air day after day. Poverty\nreads terrible lessons. It levels us all. Some it softens, while others\nit hardens; some it sanctifies, multitudes it leads to crime.\n\nNot that a gleam of sunshine never came to us. Some stray ray will\npenetrate the darkest alley and crookedest winding, and warm and gladden\nand give at least a moment\u2019s life and hope and cheerfulness to something,\nprovided only a pinhole be left open to the heaven that is smiling above\nus all the while. I began to make acquaintances, pleasant enough some\nof them, others not so pleasant. There was much food for meditation\nand mental colloquy in the daily life I was living, but I had no time\nfor such indulgence. I was compelled to work very hard; for this was\ncertainly not a vineyard where the laborers were few; and the harvest,\nwhen gathered in, was but a sorry crop at the best. Is not the history of\nthe human race the record of one long and unsuccessful expedition after\nthe Golden Fleece? Such stray remnants of it as fell into my hand went\nfor the most part, for a long time at least, into the treasury of Mrs.\nJinks, who, like a female Atreus, served up my own children, the children\nof my brain, or their equivalents, to me at table. Horrid provender!\nOne week it was an art criticism--dressed up with wonderful condiments\nand melted down into mysterious soup, whose depths I shuddered to\npenetrate--that sustained the life in me. Another time it was a fugitive\npoem that took the form of roast beef and potatoes. A cruel critique on\nsome poor girl\u2019s novel would give me ill dreams as pork-chops. A light,\nbrisk, airy social essay would solidify into mutton. And so it went on,\nweek in week out, the round of the table. An inspiriting life truly,\nwhere your epigrams mean cutlets, and all the brilliant fancies of your\nimagination go for honest bread and butter.\n\nI believe that Mrs. Jinks secretly entertained the profoundest contempt\nfor me and my calling, mingled with a touch of pity for a young,\nstrong fellow who had missed his vocation, and who, instead of moping\nand groping over ink-pots and scraps of paper, might be earning an\nhonest living like the butcher\u2019s young man over the way--an intimate\nacquaintance and close personal friend of mine who \u201ckept company\u201d with\nMrs. Jinks\u2019 Jane. I ventured once to ask Mrs. Jinks whether she did not\nconsider literary labor an honest mode of earning a living; but I was not\nencouraged to ask a similar question a second time. \u201cShe\u2019d knowed littery\ngents afore now; knowed \u2019em to her cost, she had. They was for ever\na-grumblin\u2019 at their board, and nothing was good enough for them, though\nthey ate more than any two of her boarders put together, and always went\naway owin\u2019 her three months, besides a-borrerin\u2019 no end o\u2019 money and\nthings.\u201d Such was Mrs. Jinks\u2019 experienced opinion of \u201clittery gents.\u201d\nShe was gracious enough to add: \u201cYou know I don\u2019t say this of _you_,\nMr. Herbert. _You_ don\u2019t seem to eat as well as most on \u2019em. You don\u2019t\ngrumble at whatever you git. _You_ don\u2019t borrer, and you never fetches\nfriends home with you at half-past three in the mornin\u2019, as doesn\u2019t know\nwhich is their heads and which is their heels, and a-tryin\u2019 to open the\nstreet-door with their watchkeys; tellin\u2019 Mr. Jinks, who is a temperance\nman, the next mornin\u2019, that you\u2019d been to a temperance meetin\u2019 the night\nafore, and took too much water. No, Mr. Herbert, I wouldn\u2019t believe _you_\ncapable of such goins-on. But that\u2019s because you an\u2019t a reg\u2019lar littery\ngent; _you\u2019re_ only what they calls an amatoor.\u201d\n\nMrs. Jinks was right; I was only an amateur, though I had a faint\nambition some day of being regularly enrolled in \u201cthe profession.\u201d I\nflattered myself that I was advancing, however slowly, to that end. More\nthan a year had now flown by since I had left home. I came to be more and\nmore absorbed in my work, and the days and months glided silently past\nme without my noticing them. This close and intense absorption succeeded\nin shutting out to a great extent the thoughts of home. Indeed, I would\nnot allow my mind to rest on that subject; for when I did, I was quite\nunmanned. It was not until I had made sufficient trial of the sweet\nbitterness or bitter sweetness, as may be, of what was a hard and often\nseemed a hopeless struggle, that I wrote to Kenneth under the strictest\npledge of secrecy, giving him a true and unvarnished account of my life\nsince we parted, and transmitting at the same time certain evidences\nof what I was pleased to accept as the dawn of success in the shape of\nsundry articles in _The Packet_ and other journals. He was enjoined\nmerely to inform them at home that I was in the enjoyment of good health\nand reaping a steady income of, at an average, ten dollars a week, which\nI hoped soon to be able to increase; and by a continuance of steady work\nand the strictest economy I had every hope, if I lived to the age of\nMethusaleh, of being in a position to retire on a moderate competency,\nand end my patriarchal days in serene retirement and contemplation under\nthe shade of my own fig-tree. I described Mrs. Jinks and her household\narrangements at considerable length, and did that estimable lady infinite\ncredit, while I drew a companion picture of Mr. Culpepper that would\nhave done honor to the journal of which he was the distinguished chief.\nBut put not your trust in bosom friends! Mine utterly disregarded my\nbinding pledge, and the only answer I received to my letter was in\nNellie\u2019s well-known handwriting on the occasion and in the manner already\ndescribed.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThat was a stormy passage back to England. We were detained both by\nstress of weather and an accident that occurred when only a few days\nout. It was the morning of Christmas eve when at length we landed at\nLiverpool. The delay had exasperated me almost into a fever. I despatched\na telegram to Nellie announcing my arrival, and that I should be in\nLeighstone that evening. The train was crowded with holiday folk: happy\nchildren going home for the Christmas holidays; stout farmers, red and\nhearty, hurrying back from the Christmas market; bright-eyed women loaded\nwith Christmas baskets and barricaded by parcels of every description.\nThe crisp, cold air seemed redolent of Christmas pudding and good cheer.\nThe guard wished us a merry Christmas as he examined our tickets. The\nstations flashed a merry Christmas on us out of their gay festoons of\nholly and ivy with bright-red berries and an ermine fringe of snow, as\nwe flew along, though it seemed to me that we were crawling. Just as\nwe entered London the snow began to fall, and I was grateful for it. I\nwas weary of the clear, cold, pitiless sky under which we had passed.\nLondon was in an uproar, as it always is on a Christmas eve; but the\nuproar rather soothed me than otherwise. What I dreaded was quiet, when\nmy own thoughts and fears would compel me to listen to their remorse\nand foreboding. I saw lights flashing. I heard voices calling through\nthe fog and the snow. Songs were sung, and men and women talked in a\nconfused and meaningless jargon together. I heard the sounds and moved\namong the multitude, but with a far-off sense as in a dream. How I found\nmy way about at all is a mystery to me, unless it were with that secret\ninstinct that guides the sleep-walker. I saw nothing but the white snow\nfalling, falling, white and silent and deadly cold, covering the earth\nlike a shroud. I remember thinking of Charles I., and how on the day of\nhis death all England was draped in a snow-shroud. That incident always\nimpressed me when a boy as so sad and significant. And here was my\nChristmas greeting after more than a year\u2019s absence: the sad snow falling\nthicker and thicker as I neared home, steadily, solemnly, silently down,\nwith never a break or quaver in it, mystic, wonderful, impalpable as a\nsheeted ghost; and more than a month ago my sister called me away from\nanother world to tell me that my father was dying.\n\n\u201cGreat God! great God!\u201d I moaned, \u201cin whom I believe, against whom I have\nsinned, to whom alone I can pray, spare him till I come.\u201d\n\n\u201cLeighstone! Leighstone!\u201d rang out the voice of the guard.\n\nI staggered from the railway carriage, stumbled, and fell. I had tasted\nnothing the whole day. The guard picked me up roughly--the very guard who\nused to be such a great friend of mine in the old days--a year seemed\nalready old days. He did not recognize me now. I suppose he thought me\ndrunk, for I heard him say, \u201cThat chap\u2019s beginning his Christmas holidays\npretty early,\u201d and a loud laugh greeted the sally. I contrived to make\nmy way outside the little station. Not a soul recognized me, and I was\nafraid to ask any one for information, dreading the answer that I could\nnot have borne. Outside the station my strength gave out. My head grew\ndizzy; I staggered blindly towards some carriages drawn up in front of\nme, and fell fainting at the feet of one of the horses.\n\nMy eyes opened on faces that I did not recognize. Some one was holding up\nmy head, and there were strange men around me. \u201cThank God! he recovers,\u201d\nsaid a voice I knew well, and all came back on me in a flash.\n\n\u201cKenneth!\u201d I cried, \u201cKenneth! Is he dead?\u201d\n\n\u201cHush, old boy. Take it easy. Rest awhile.\u201d\n\nHis silence was sufficient.\n\n\u201cMy God! I am punished!\u201d I gasped out, and fainted again.\n\nTO BE CONCLUDED NEXT MONTH.\n\n\nTHE CARDINALATE.\n\nI.\n\nThe Senate and Sovereign Council of the Pope in the government and\nadministration of the affairs of the church in Rome and throughout the\nworld is composed of a number of very distinguished ecclesiastics who\nare called Cardinals. The office and dignity of a member of this body is\ntermed the Cardinalate.\n\nThere is some dispute among the learned about the precise origin and\nmeaning of the word cardinal as applied to such a person; but the\ncommoner opinion derives it from the Latin _cardo_, the hinge of a\ndoor, which is probably correct; but the reason assigned for the\nappellation--because the Cardinals are, in a figurative sense, the pivots\naround which revolve the portals of Christian Rome--is more descriptive\nthan accurate. At a comparatively early age the parish priests of the\nchurches, and later the canons of the cathedrals of Milan, Ravenna,\nNaples, and other cities of Italy, also in parts of France, Spain, and\nother countries, were called cardinals; and Muratori suggests that the\nname was taken in imitation, and perhaps in emulation, of the chief\nclergymen of the church in Rome. He thinks that they were so called\nat Rome and elsewhere because put in possession of, or immovably\nattached--_incardinati_--to certain churches, which was expressed in\nlow Latin by the verb _cardinare_ or _incardinare_, formed, indeed,\nfrom _cardo_ as above, and the application of which in this sense\nreceives an illustration from Vitruvius, who writes, in his treatise on\narchitecture, of _tignum cardinatum_--one beam fitted into another.\n\nOur oldest authority for the institution of the cardinalate is found in a\nfew words of unquestionable authenticity in the _Liber Pontificalis_, or\n_Lives of the Popes_, extracted and compiled from very ancient documents\nby Anastasius the Librarian in the IXth century. It is there written\nof S. Cletus, who lived in the year 81, was an immediate disciple of\nthe Prince of the Apostles, and his successor only once removed: \u201cHic\nex pr\u00e6cepto beati Petri XXV[95] presbyteros ordinavit in urbe Roma,\nmense decembri.\u201d These priests, ordained by direction of blessed Peter,\nformed a select body of councillors to assist the pope in the management\nof ecclesiastical affairs, and are the predecessors of those who were\nafterwards called cardinals of the Holy Roman Church. Hence Eugene IV.\nsaid in his constitution _Non Mediocri_ (_XIX Bull. Mainardi_) that\nthe office of cardinal was evidently instituted by S. Peter and his\nnear successors. Again, in the _Life of Evaristus_, who became pope in\nthe year 100, we read: \u201cHic titulos in urbe Roma divisit presbyteris.\u201d\nTo this day the old churches of the city, at the head of which stand\nthe cardinal-priests, are called titles, and all writers agree that\nthe designation was given under this pontificate. There is hardly less\ndifference of opinion about the original meaning of this word than there\nis about that of cardinal. Some have imagined that the fiscal mark put on\nobjects belonging to, or that had devolved upon, the sovereign in civil\nadministration being called _titulus_ in Latin, the same word was applied\nby Christians to those edifices which were consecrated to the service\nof God; the ceremonies, such as the sprinkling of holy water and the\nunction of oil used in the act of setting them apart for divine worship,\nmarking them as belonging henceforth to the Ruler of heaven and earth.\nOthers think that as a special mention was made in the ordination of a\npriest of the particular church in which he was to serve, it was called\nhis title, as though it gave him a new name with his new character; and\nthis may be the reason of a custom, once universal, of calling a cardinal\nby the name of his church instead of by his family name.[96] Father\nMarchi, in his work on the _Early Christian Monuments of Rome_, has\ngiven several mortuary inscriptions which have been discovered of these\nancient Roman priests and dignitaries, and from which we take these two:\n\u201cLocus Presbyteri Basili Tituli Sabin\u00e6,\u201d and \u201cLoc. Adeodati Presb. Tit.\nPrisc\u00e6.\u201d After _locus_ in the first and its abbreviation in the second\ninscription, the word _depositionis_--\u201cof being laid to rest\u201d--must be\nunderstood.\n\nLet us here remark with the erudite Cenni that these titled priests were\nnot such as were afterwards called parish priests or rectors of churches,\nwith whom they were never confounded, and over whom, as intermediaries\nbetween them and the pope, they had authority. These titulars were\na select body of men not higher in point of _order_, but otherwise\ndistinct from and superior to those priests who had parochial duties to\nperform within certain limits. Whether we believe that cardinal meant\noriginally one who was chief in a certain church, just as was said (Du\nCange\u2019s _Glossarium_) _Cardinalis Missa, Altare Cardinale_, and as we\nsay in English, cardinal virtues, cardinal points; or whether we accept\nit as one who was appointed to a particular church, it is not true\nthat the _Roman_ cardinals were so called either because they were the\nchief priests--_parochi_--of certain churches, or because they were\nattached--_incardinati_--to a title. The great Modenese author on Italian\nantiquities has been deceived by similarity of name into stating that the\norigin and office of the cardinals of Rome did not differ from that of\nthose of other churches (Devoti, _Inst. Can._, vol. i. p. 188, note 4).\nObserve that the ordination performed by Cletus was done by direction of\nblessed Peter; that it was that of a special corps of priests; that it\nwas not successive, but at one time, and that in the month of December,\nthe same which an unbroken local tradition teaches is the proper\nseason[97] for the creation of cardinals, out of respect for the first\nexample. Now, the pope surely needed no special injunction to continue\nthe succession of the sacred ministry; we may consequently believe that\nthe ordination made by him with such particular circumstances was an\nextraordinary proceeding, distinct from, although immediately followed\nby, the administration of the sacrament of Orders. Therefore if after\nthe Evaristan distribution of titles the successors of these Cletan\npriests came to be called cardinals, it was not so much (accepting\nthe origin of the _name_ given above) because they were attached to\nparticular churches as because they were attached _in solidum_ to the\nRoman Church, the mother and mistress of all churches, or, better still,\nas more conformable to the words of many popes and saints, because they\nwere attached to (some good authors say incorporated with) the Roman\npontiff. And it is in this figurative but very suggestive sense that Leo\nIV. writes of one of his cardinals whom he calls \u201cAnastasius presbyter\n_cardinis nostri_, quem nos in titulo B. Marcelli Mart. atque pontif.\nordinavimus\u201d (Labbe, _Conc._, tom. ix. col. 1135). In the same sense\nS. Bernard, addressing Eugene III., calls the cardinals his coadjutors\nand collaterals, and says (_Ep._ 237) that their business is to assist\nhim in the government of the whole church, and (_Ep._ 150) that in\nspiritual matters they are judges of the world. Not otherwise did Pope\nJohn VIII., in the year 872, write that as he filled in the new law the\noffice of Moses in the old, so his cardinals represented the seventy\nelders chosen to assist him. For this reason cardinals alone are ever\nchosen legates _a latere_--_i. e._, _Summi Pontificis_. The cardinals of\nRome, therefore, were not cardinals because they had titles, but just\nthe contrary. We have been a little prolix on a point that might seem\nminute, because there was once a determined effort made in some parts of\nFrance and Italy, especially during the last century, to try to prove\nthat the cardinals of the Roman Church were no more originally than any\nother priests having cure of souls in the first instance, except that by\na fortunate accident they ministered in the capital of the then known\nworld. This was an attempt to depress the dignity of the cardinalate, or\nat least, by implication, to give undue importance to the status of a\nparish priest, as though he and a cardinal were once on the same footing.\nThe like insidious argument would be prepared to show, on occasion, that\nthe pope himself was in the beginning no more than any other bishop.\nThe same name was often used in the early church of two persons, but of\neach in a different sense; and thus the mere fact of there having been\ncardinals in other churches than that at Rome no more diminishes the\nsuperior authority and higher dignity of the Roman cardinalate than the\nname of pope, once common to all bishops, lessens the supremacy of the\nRoman pontificate. In ecclesiastical antiquities a common name often\ncovers very different offices. In general, however, the instinct of\nCatholics will always be able to make the proper distinction, no matter\nhow things are called; and the words of Alvaro Pelagio, who wrote his\nlachrymose treatise _De Planctu Ecclesi\u00e6_ about the year 1330, show how\ndifferent was the popular opinion of the provincial and of the urban\ncardinals: \u201cSunt et in Ecclesia Compostellana cardinales presbyteri\nmitrati, et in Ecclesia Ravennate. _Tales cardinales sunt derisui potius\nquam honori._\u201d The name of cardinal was certainly in use at the beginning\nof the IVth century; for the seven cardinal-deacons of the Roman Church\nare mentioned in a council held under Pope Sylvester in 324; and a\ndocument of the pontificate of Damasus in 367, registering a donation\nto the church of Arezzo by the senator Zenobius, is subscribed in these\nwords: \u201cI, John, of the Holy Roman Church, a cardinal-deacon, on the part\nof Damasus, praise this act and confirm it.\u201d Among the archives, also, of\nS. Mary in Trastevere, there is mention of Paulinus, a cardinal-priest\nin 492. The name of cardinal was restricted by a just and peremptory\ndecree of S. Pius V. in 1567 exclusively to the cardinals of pontifical\ncreation, and it was only then that the haughty canons of Ravenna dropped\nthis high-sounding appellation. The idea figuratively connected with the\ncardinalship in the edifice of the Holy Roman Church is briefly exposed\nby Pope Leo IX., a German, in a letter to the Emperor of Constantinople.\n\u201cAs the gate itself,\u201d he says, \u201cdoth rest upon its post, thus upon\nPeter and his successors dependeth the government of the whole church.\nWherefore his clerics are called cardinals, because they are most closely\nadhering to that about which revolveth all the rest\u201d (_Labbe_, tom.\nii. _Epist._ i. cap. 22.) The author of an old poem on the Roman court\n(_Carmen de Curia Romana_) gives in a few lines the principal points of a\ncardinal\u2019s pre-eminence:\n\n    \u201cDic age quid faciunt quibus est a cardine nomen\n      Post Papam, quibus est immediatus honor?\n    Expediunt causas, magnique negotia mundi,\n      Extinguunt lites, f\u0153dera rupta ligant.\n    Isti participes onerum, Pap\u00e6que laborum,\n      Sustentant humeris grandia facta suis.\u201d\n\nMore completely, however, than anywhere else are the rights,\nprerogatives, and dignity of the cardinalate set forth in the 76th\n_Constitution_ of Sixtus V., beginning _Postquam ille verus_, of May 13,\n1585.\n\nA fact recorded by John the Deacon in the life of S. Gregory I. shows us\nhow high was the office and rank of a cardinal, and that to be appointed\nto a bishopric was considered a descent from a higher position. He\nsays that this great pope was always careful to obtain the consent of\na cardinal before appointing him to govern a diocese, lest he should\nseem, by removing him from the person of Christ\u2019s Vicar, to give him a\nlower place: \u201cNe sub hujusmodi occasione quemquam _eliminando deponere\nvideretur_.\u201d That bishops undoubtedly considered the cardinalate, in\nthe light of influence on the affairs of the whole church and the\nprospect of becoming pope, as superior to the episcopate, appears at\nan early period, from a canon which it was necessary to make in order\nto repress their ambition in this direction. In a council held at Rome\nin the year 769 this canon was passed: \u201cSi quis ex episcopis \u2026 contra\ncanonum et sanctorum Patrum statuta prorumpens in gradum Majorum[98]\nsanct\u00e6 Roman\u00e6 Ecclesi\u00e6, id est presbyterorum cardinalium et diaconorum,\nire pr\u00e6sumpserit, \u2026 et hanc apostolicam sedem invadere \u2026 tentaverit, et\nad summum pontificalem honorem ascendere voluerit, \u2026 fiat perpetuum\nanathema.\u201d\n\nThere was at one period not a little divergence of opinion about the\nprecedence of cardinals over bishops; but the matter has long ago been\nirrevocably settled. A cardinal, indeed, cannot, unless invested with\nthe episcopal character, perform any act that depends for its validity\nupon such a character, nor can he lawfully invade the jurisdiction\nof a bishop; but apart from this his _rank_ in the church is always,\neverywhere, and under all circumstances superior to that of any bishop,\narchbishop, metropolitan, primate, or patriarch. Nor can it be said\nthat this is an anomaly, unless we are also prepared to condemn other\ndecisions of the church; for the precedence of cardinals over bishops has\na certain parity with that of the archdeacons in old times over priests,\nwhich very example is brought forward by Eugene IV. in 1431 to convince\nHenry, Archbishop of Canterbury, who had a falling out with Cardinal\nJohn of Santa Balbina: \u201cQuoniam in hujusmodi pr\u00e6lationibus officium\nac dignitas, sive jurisdictio, pr\u00e6ponderat ordini, quemadmodum jure\ncautum est ut archidiaconus, non presbyter su\u00e6 jurisdictionis obtentu,\narchipresbytero pr\u00e6feratur\u201d (_Bullarium Romanum_, tom. iii.) But we could\nbring a more cogent example from the modern discipline of the church. A\nvicar-general, although only _tonsured_, outranks (within the diocese)\nall others, because, as canonists say, _unam personam cum episcopo\ngerit_; with as much justice, therefore, a cardinal, who is a member\nof the pope, whose diocese is the world, precedes all others (we speak\nof ecclesiastical rank) within mundane limits. There is one example,\nparticularly, in ecclesiastical history that shows us how important was\nthe influence of the Roman cardinals in the whole church, and how great\nwas the deference paid to them by bishops. After the death of S. Fabian,\nin the year 250, the priests and deacons--cardinals--of Rome governed\nthe church for a year during the vacancy of the see, and meanwhile wrote\nto S. Cyprian, bishop, and to the clergy of Carthage, in a manner that\ncould only become a superior authority, as to how those should be treated\nwho, having lapsed from the faith during the persecution, now sought to\nbe reconciled. The holy bishop answered respectfully in an epistle (xxth\nedition, Lipsi\u00e6, 1838), in which he gave them an account of his gests and\ngovernment of the diocese. Pope Cornelius testifies that the letters of\nthe cardinals were sent to all parts to be communicated to the bishops\nand churches (Coustant, _Ep. RR. PP._ x. 5). It is also very noteworthy\nthat in the General Council of Ephesus, in 431, of Pope Celestine\u2019s three\nlegates, the cardinal-priest preceded the two others, although bishops,\nand before them signed the acts. Those who say the Breviary according to\nthe Roman calendar are familiar with the fact that at an indefinitely\nearly age the cardinals were created (just as now) before the bishops of\nvarious dioceses were named, hence those familiar words: \u201cMense decembri\ncreavit presbyteros (tot), diaconos (tot), _episcopos per diversa loca_\n(tot).\u201d\n\nThe importance of a cardinal a thousand years ago can be imagined from\nthe fact recorded by Muratori (_Annali d\u2019Italia_, tom. v. part. i. pag.\n55), that when Anastasius had absented himself from his title for five\nyears without leave, and was residing in Lombardy, three bishops went\nfrom Rome to invite him back, and the emperors Louis and Lothaire also\ninterposed their good offices.\n\nAlthough all cardinals are equal among themselves in the principal\nthings, yet in many points of costume, privilege, local office, and rank\nthere are distinctions and differences established by law or custom, the\nmost important of which follow from the division of the cardinals into\nthree grades, namely, of bishops, priests, and deacons. Although the\nwhole number of suburbicarian sees, of titles, and deaconries amounts to\nseventy-two (six for the first, fifty for the second, and sixteen for\nthe third class), the membership of the Sacred College is limited since\nSixtus V. to the maximum of seventy. There can be no doubt that the\nepiscopal sees lying nearest to, and, so to speak, at, the very gates of\nRome, have enjoyed from the remotest antiquity some special pre-eminence;\nbut it is not easy to determine at what epoch their incumbents began\nto form a part of the body of cardinals. It is certain only that they\nbelonged to it in the year 769. These suburban sees all received the\nfaith from S. Peter himself; and the tradition of Albano is that S.\nClement, who was afterwards pope, had been consecrated by the apostle\nand sent there as his coadjutor and auxiliary. The number of these sees\nwas formerly seven, but for a long time has been only six. The Bishop\nof Ostia and Velletri is the first of this order and Dean of the Sacred\nCollege. He has the privilege of consecrating the pope, should he be\nonly in priest\u2019s orders when elected, and of wearing the pallium on the\noccasion.\n\nThe titles of the cardinal-priests are fifty, some being held by\npersons who have been consecrated bishops but have no diocese, or by\njurisdictional bishops--_i.e._, those who are at the head of dioceses\nand archdioceses. The most illustrious, though not the oldest, of these\nis S. Lawrence in Lucina, which is called the first title, and gives its\ncardinal precedence--other things being equal--in his class.\n\nIn the life of S. Fabian, who reigned in the year 238, we read that\nhe gave the districts of Rome in charge to the deacons: \u201cHic regiones\ndivisit diaconibus\u201d; and these are supposed to have been the first\ncardinal-deacons, or regionary cardinals, as they were long called. This\norder is third in rank, but second in point of time when it was admitted\ninto the Sacred College. The number of cardinal-deacons became fourteen\n(one for each of the civil divisions of the city) towards the end of the\nVIth century, under the pontificate of S. Gregory the Great. In the year\n735 Pope Gregory III. added four and raised the number to eighteen, which\nwas reduced under Honorius II., in the beginning of the XIIth century,\nto sixteen. After various other mutations of number it was fixed as at\npresent. Until the pontificate of Urban II. in 1088 these cardinals were\ndenominated by the name of their district or region, except those added\nby Gregory III., who were called palatines. After the XIth century they\nwere called from the name of their deaconries. S. Mary in Via Lata is the\nfirst deaconry. The cardinal-deacons are often in priests\u2019 orders; but\nin this case they cannot celebrate Mass in public without a dispensation\nfrom the Pope, but they can say it in their private chapel in presence\nof their chaplain. In early times cardinal-deacons held a position of\nvery singular importance, and the pope was frequently chosen from their\nrestricted class. Even now some of the highest positions at Rome are\noccupied by them.\n\nAlthough a cardinal is created either a cardinal-priest or a\ncardinal-deacon, there is a mode of advancement even to the chief\nsuburbicarian see. This is called, in the language of the Curia,\n_option_, or the expressing a wish to pass from one order to a higher, or\nfrom one deaconry, title, or see to another. The custom is comparatively\nrecent, and was looked upon at first with considerable disfavor. It owes\nits origin to the schism which Alexander V. attempted to heal in 1409 by\nforming one body of his own (the legitimate) and of the pseudo-cardinals\nof the anti-pope Benedict XIII. As there were two claimants to the\nseveral deaconries, titles, and sees, he proposed to settle the dispute\nby permitting one of them in succession to optate to the first vacant\nplace in his order. What was meant as a temporary measure became an\nestablished custom under Sixtus IV. (1471-1484). If a cardinal-bishop\nbe too infirm to perform episcopal duties in the see which he already\nfills, Urban VIII. decreed that he cannot pass to another one. If a\ncardinal-deacon obtain by option a title before he has been ten years\nin his own order, he must take the lowest place among the priests; but\nif after that period, he takes precedence of all who have been created\nin either of the two orders since his elevation. The favor of option\nis asked of the pope in the consistory held next after a vacancy has\noccurred, by the cardinal proposing such a change. The prefect of\npontifical ceremonies having previously assured himself that no cardinal\noutranking the postulant contemplates the same, the cardinal-priest,\nto give an example from this order, rises and says: \u201cBeatissime Pater,\nsi sanctitati vestr\u00e6 placuerit dimisso titulo N. transitu ex ordine\npresbyterali ad episcopalem, opto ecclesiam N.,\u201d naming his title and the\nsuburbicarian see that he seeks to occupy.\n\nThese three orders of cardinals certainly had a corporate character at\nan early period, and formed what the ancients called a college with its\nofficers and by-laws; but Arnulf, Bishop of Lisieux in the Xth century,\nwas the first to call them collectively _Collegium Sanctorum_; hence\nin all languages it is now called the Sacred College. A proof that the\ncardinals acted together in a public capacity, and of their exalted\ndignity, is that they are termed _Proceres clericorum_ by Anastasius in\nthe _Life of S. Leo III._ In olden times cardinals were strictly obliged\nto reside near the pope; and a Roman council, composed of sixty-seven\nbishops, held in 853 under S. Leo IV., called in judgment and deposed\nthe cardinal-priest of S. Marcellus for having contumaciously absented\nhimself during a long time from his title. This obligation of residence\nin the house or palace annexed to the title or the deaconry was somewhat\nrelaxed in the XIIth century, when bishops of actual jurisdiction began\nto be created cardinals. The first example of a bishop governing a\ndiocese who was made a cardinal is that of Conrad von Wittelsbach, of the\nsince royal house of Bavaria, Archbishop of Mentz, who was raised to this\ndignity by Alexander III. in 1163.\n\nInnocent III., however, refused a petition of the good people of Ravenna\nto let them have a certain cardinal for their archbishop, saying that\nhe was more useful to Rome and to the church at large where he was than\nhe could possibly be in any other position. At this period, and until\na considerable time after, it was very rare that a bishop was made a\ncardinal without having to resign his diocese and reside _in curia_.\n\nLeo X. was so strict in his ideas of the duty of cardinals to live near\nhim that he issued a bull renewing the obligation in very strong terms;\nand in 1538 it was proposed to Paul III. to draw up a plan of reform\nmaking it incompatible to govern a diocese and be at the same time a\ncardinal, except in the case of the Fathers of the First Order, who,\nfrom the nearness of their sees to Rome, could perform their service to\nthe pope as his councillors and assistants, and not neglect the faithful\nover whom they were placed (Natalis Alexander, _Hist. Eccl._, tom. xvii.\nart. 16). No such stringent rule was adopted, and a cardinal might be\nthis and govern a diocese, if he made it his place of habitual residence,\naccording to the decree of the Council of Trent (Session xxiii., on Ref.,\nch. 1).\n\nOf the virtue, learning, and other qualities required in a cardinal\nof the Holy Roman Church, SS. Peter Damian and Bernard have written\neloquently, and Honorius IV., of the great family of Savelli, once so\npowerful in Rome, was inexorable against unworthy subjects, saying that\n\u201che never would raise to the Roman purple any save good and wise men.\u201d\nDifferent popes have made excellent laws on these matters and others\nconnected with the cardinalate; but in some cases they have been\ndisregarded, especially those about age and about there not being two\nnear relatives in the Sacred College at the same time. The practice of\nthe last hundred years has been above cavil, and the abuses of other ages\nhave been exaggerated, partly through malice, and partly from not knowing\nthe secret reasons that popes may have had for creating, for instance,\nmere youths--royal youths--cardinals, or conferring the high dignity upon\nmembers of their own family, or upon men who had nothing to recommend\nthem but the importunate demands of their sovereigns. The hat bestowed\nupon S. Charles Borromeo was productive of more good than all the rest of\n\u201cnepotism\u201d was able to effect of evil.\n\nThe creation of cardinals is an exclusive privilege of the popes; but\nthey have sometimes granted the prayers of the Sacred College or of\nsovereign princes asking to have the dignity conferred upon certain\nsubjects. For a long time, especially during the XVIth century, the\ngovernments of France, Spain, Portugal, Poland, and the republic of\nVenice were favored by being permitted to name once in each pontificate\na candidate for the cardinalate. This was called a crown nomination.\nClement V. is said (Cancellieri, _Mercato_, p. 105, note 3) to have been\nthe first to grant to princes the right of petitioning for a hat; and\nthe sultan Bajazet II. wrote on 28th September, 1494, to Alexander VI.,\nbegging him to make a perfect cardinal of Nicholas Cibo, Archbishop of\nAries, and cousin of Pope Innocent VIII. Clement XII. in 1732 tendered\nto James III. (the \u201cElder Pretender\u201d) the nomination of some subject to\nthe cardinalate, and he, like a true Stuart, neglecting his countrymen\nand those who had suffered in his cause, proposed Mgr. Rivera, whom he\nhad taken a liking to for little courtesies shown at Urbino. It has long\nbeen a custom for the pope to promote to this dignity a member of the\nfamily or one of that religious order to which his predecessor belonged,\nfrom whom he himself received it. The Italians call this a restitution of\nthe hat--_Restituzione di capello_. The number of cardinals has greatly\nvaried at different times. It was generally smaller before than ever\nsince the XVIth century. The cardinals could, of course, well be all\nRomans, as they were in the beginning; but with a change of circumstances\nthe pontiffs have recognized the propriety of S. Bernard\u2019s suggestive\nquery to Eugene III.: \u201cAnnon eligendi de toto orbe, orbem judicaturi?\u201d\n(_De Consid._, iv. 4). In 1331 John XXII. (himself a Frenchman), being\nasked by the king to create a couple of French cardinals, replied\nthat two were too many, and he would make but one, because there were\nonly twenty cardinals in all, and seventeen of them were Frenchmen.\nIn 1352, after the death of Clement VI., the cardinals attempted to\nrestrict the Sacred College to twenty members, on the principle that\na dignity profusely conferred is despised--_communia vilescunt_; but\nUrban VI. found himself constrained, by the course of events at the\nschism, to create a large number of cardinals, in order to oppose them\nto the pseudo-cardinals of Clement VII., and at one creation he made\ntwenty-nine, all except three being his own countrymen, Neapolitans; so\nthat the French of another generation were richly paid back for their\nformer preponderance. From this time the membership of the Sacred College\ngradually increased up to the middle of the XVIth century. It is much to\nthe credit of Pius II. that when the Sacred College in 1458 remonstrated\nwith him on the number of cardinals, saying that the cardinalate was\ngoing down, and begged him not to increase its membership to any\nconsiderable extent, he told the fathers that as head of the church he\ncould not refuse the reasonable requests of kings and governments in such\na matter, but that, apart from this, his honor forbade him to neglect\nthe subjects of other countries than Italy in the distribution of the\nhighest favors in his gift (_Comment. Pii II._, lib. ii. pp. 129, 130).\nLeo X., believing himself disliked by many cardinals, added thirty-one\nto their number at a single creation on July 1, 1517, the like of which\nthe court has never seen before or after; but it had the desired effect.\nThe Council of Trent ordained (Sess. 24, _De Ref._, c. i.) concerning the\nsubjects of the cardinalate that \u201cthe Most Holy Roman Pontiff shall,\nas far as it can be conveniently done, select (them) out of all the\nnations of Christendom, as he shall find persons suitable.\u201d This is not\nto be understood, however worded, as more than a recommendation to the\npope. Paul IV. (Caraffa, 1555-59), a great reformer, after consulting\nthe Sacred College and long discussions, issued a bull called the\nCompact--_Compactum_--in which he decreed that the cardinals should not\nbe more than forty; but his immediate successor, Pius IV. (Medici),\nacting on the principle that one pope cannot bind another in disciplinary\nmatters, created forty-six. Sixtus V. in 1585 fixed the number at\nseventy in imitation of the seventy elders chosen to assist Moses; and\nsince then all the popes have respected this precedent. During the long\nreign of Pius VII., although, on account of the times, unable to hold\na consistory for many years, he created in all ninety-eight cardinals,\nand when he died left ten _in petto_. Although, on the one hand, an\nexcessive number of cardinals would lessen the importance and lower the\ndignity of the office, yet a very small number has occasioned long and\ndisedifying conclaves, whereby for months, and even years, the Holy See\nhas been vacant, to the great detriment of the church. This was the case\nfour times during the XIIIth century, and by a coincidence, each time it\nwas after a pope who was the fourth of his name, viz., Celestine (1241),\nAlexander (1261), Clement (1268), and Nicholas (1292).\n\nThe subject of this article has grown so much under our hands that we are\nreluctantly compelled to defer a description of the ceremonies attendant\non the election of cardinals, etc., till the July number of THE CATHOLIC\nWORLD.\n\n\nON THE WAY TO LOURDES.\n\n    \u201cQuacumque ingredimur, in aliquam historiam vestigium\n    ponimus.\u201d--_Cicero._\n\nThe most direct route from Paris to Notre Dame de Lourdes crosses the\nBordeaux and Toulouse Railway at Agen, where the pilgrim leaves the more\nfrequented thoroughfares for an obscurer route, though one by no means\ndevoid of interest, especially to the Catholic of English origin; for the\ncountry we are now entering was once tributary to England, and at every\nstep we come, not only upon the traces it has left behind, but across\nsome unknown saint of bygone times, like a fossil of some rare flower\nwith lines of beauty and grace that ages have not been able to efface.\n\nApproaching Agen, we imagined ourselves coming to some large city, so\nimposing are the environs. The broad Garonne is flowing oceanward, its\nshores bordered by poplars, and overlooked by hills whose sunny slopes\nare covered with vineyards and plum-trees. Boats from Provence and\nLanguedoc are gliding along the canal, whose massive bridge, with its\ngigantic arches, harmonizes with the landscape, and reminds one of the\nRoman Campagna. The plain is vast, fertile, and smiling; the heavens\nglowing and without a cloud. Every hill, like Bacchus, has its flowing\nlocks wreathed with vines of wonderful luxuriance, and is garlanded\nwith clusters of grapes, under which it reels with joyous intoxication.\nEverywhere are white houses, fair villas, pleasant gardens, and all the\nindications of a prosperous country.\n\nThe town does not correspond with its surroundings. It is damp and said\nto be unhealthy. The streets are narrow and winding, the houses without\nexpression. The population is mostly made up of merchants, mechanics,\nand _gens de robe_. Here and there we find a noble mansion, a few great\nfamilies, and a time-honored name; but the true lords of the place are\nthe public functionaries, worthy and grave, and clad in solemn black,\nquite in contrast with the joyous character of the people. The local\npeculiarities of the latter may be studied to advantage in an irregular\nsquare bordered with low arcades--the centre of traffic for all the\nvillages eight or ten leagues around. Famous fairs are held here three or\nfour times a year, one for the sale of prunes--and the Agen prunes are\nfamous--but the most important one is the lively, bustling fair of the\nGravier, which brings together all the blooming grisettes of the region,\nwho, in festive mood and holiday attire, gather around the tempting\nbooths. The Gravier was formerly a magnificent promenade of fine old\nelms, which Jasmin loved to frequent, and where he found inspiration for\nmany of his charming poems in the Gascon language--one of the Romance\ntongues; for the so-called _patois_ of this part of the country is by\nno means a corruption of the French, but a genuine language, flexible,\npoetic, and wonderfully expressive of every sweet and tender emotion.\nSome of Jasmin\u2019s poems have been translated by our own poet Longfellow\nwith much of the graceful simplicity of the original. Most of the fine\nelms of the Gravier have been cut down within a few years, to the great\nregret of the people.\n\nOne of the most striking features of the landscape in approaching Agen\nis a mount at the north with a picturesque church and spire. This is the\nchurch of the Spanish Carmelites, who, driven some years ago from their\nnative country, came to take refuge among the caves of the early martyrs\nbeside the remains of an old Roman _castrum_ called Pompeiacum. Here is\nthe cavern, hewn centuries ago out of the solid rock, where S. Caprais,\nthe bishop, concealed himself in the time of the Emperor Diocletian to\nescape from his persecutors. And here is the miraculous fountain that\nsprang up to quench his thirst; sung by the celebrated Hildebert in the\nXIth century\n\n    \u201cRupem percussit, quam fontem fundere jussit;\n    Qui fons mox uber fit, dulcis, fitque saluber,\n    Quo qui potatur, mox convalet et recreatur.\u201d\n\nThat is to say: \u201cCaprais smote the rock, and forth gushed a fount of\nliving water, sweet and salutary to those who come to drink thereof,\u201d as\nthe pilgrim experiences to this day.\n\nFrom the top of this mount S. Caprais, looking down on the city, saw\nwith prophetic eye S. Foi on the martyr\u2019s pile, and a mysterious dove\ndescending from heaven, bearing a crown resplendent with a thousand\nhues and adorned with precious stones that gleamed like stars in the\nfirmament, which he placed on the virgin\u2019s head, clothing her at the same\ntime with a garment whiter than snow and shining like the sun. Then,\nshaking his dewy wings, he extinguished the devouring flames, and bore\nthe triumphant martyr to heaven.\n\nAfter the martyrdom of S. Caprais, the cave he had sanctified was\ninhabited by S. Vincent the Deacon, who, in his turn, plucked the\nblood-red flower of martyrdom, and went with unsullied stole to join\nhis master in the white-robed army above. Or, as recorded by Drepanius\nFlorus, the celebrated deacon of Lyons, in the IXth century: \u201cAginno,\nloco Pompeiano, passio sancti Vincentii, martyris, qui levitic\u00e6 stol\u00e6\ncandore micans, pro amore Christi martyrium adeptus, magnis s\u00e6pissime\nvirtutibus fulget.\u201d\n\nHis body was buried before S. Caprais\u2019 cave, and, several centuries\nafter, a church was built over it, which became a centre of popular\ndevotion to the whole country around, who came here to recall the\nholy legends of the past and learn anew the lesson of faith and\nself-sacrifice. Some say it was built by Charlemagne when he came here,\naccording to Turpin, to besiege King Aygoland, who, with his army, had\ntaken refuge in Agen. This venerable sanctuary was pillaged and then\ndestroyed by the Huguenots in 1561, and for half a century it lay in\nruins. The place, however, was purified anew by religious rites in 1600;\nthe traditions were carefully preserved; and every year the processions\nof Rogation week came to chant the holy litanies among the thorns that\nhad grown up in the broken arches. Finally, in 1612, the city authorities\ninduced a hermit, named Eymeric Rouidilh, from Notre Dame de Roquefort,\nto establish himself here. He was a good, upright man, as charitable as\nhe was devout, mocked at by the wicked, but converting them by the very\nascendency of his holy life. He brought once more to light the tomb of\nS. Vincent and S. Caprais\u2019 chair, and set to work to build a chapel out\nof the remains of the ancient church. The dignitaries of the town came\nto aid him with their own hands, the princes of France brought their\nofferings, and Anne of Austria came with her court to listen to the\nteachings of the holy hermit. Among other benefactors of the Hermitage\nwere the Duc d\u2019Epernon, Governor of Guienne, and Marshal de Schomberg,\nthe first patron of the great Bossuet.\n\nEymeric\u2019s reputation for sanctity became so great that he drew around\nhim several other hermits, who hollowed cells out of the rock,\nand endeavored to rival their master in the practice of rigorous\nmortification. They rose in the night to chant the divine Office,\nand divided the day between labor and prayer, only coming together\nfor a half-hour\u2019s fraternal intercourse after dinner and the evening\ncollation. Eymeric himself, at night, sang the _r\u00e9veill\u00e8_ in the streets\nof Agen, awakening the echoes of the night with a hoarse, lamentable\nvoice: \u201cPr\u00e9gats pous praub\u00e9s tr\u00e9passats tr\u00e9passados que Diou lous\nperdounn\u00e9!\u201d--Pray for the poor departed, that God may pardon them all!\n\nEymeric was so scrupulous about using the water of S. Caprais\u2019 fountain\nfor profane purposes that, discovering some plants that gave indications\nof a source, he labored for six months in excavating the rock, till at\nlength he came so suddenly upon a spring that he was deluged with its\nwaters.\n\nDuring the plague of 1628, and at other times of public distress, his\nheroic charity was so fully manifest that he was regarded as a public\nbenefactor; and when he died, the most distinguished people in the\nvicinity came to testify their veneration and regret.\n\nThe cells of the Hermitage continued, however, to be peopled till the\ngreat revolution, when the place was once more profaned. But in 1846 a\nband of Spanish Carmelites came to establish themselves on the mount\nsanctified by the early martyrs. Martyrs, too, of the soul are they;\nfor there is no martyrdom more severe than the inward crucifixion of\nthose who, in the cloister, offer themselves an unbloody sacrifice to\nGod for the sins of the world. Some, who have not tried it, think the\nmonastic life to be one of ease and self-indulgence. But let them\nseriously reflect on the \u201cyears of solitary weariness, of hardship and\nmortification, of wakeful scholarship, of perpetual prayer, unvisited\nby a softness or a joy beyond what a bird, or a tree, or an unusually\nblue sky may bring,\u201d with no consolations except those that spring from\nunfaltering trust in Christ and utter abandonment to his sweet yoke, and\nthey will see that, humanly speaking, such a life is by no means one of\nperfect ease.\n\nOn this new Carmel lived for a time P\u00e8re Hermann, the distinguished\nmusician, who was so miraculously converted by the divine manifestation\nin the Holy Eucharist, and it was here he gave expression to the ardor of\nhis Oriental nature in some of his glowing _Cantiques to J\u00e9sus-Hostie_,\nworthy to be sung by seraphim:\n\n      \u201cPain Vivant! Pain de la Patrie!\n    Du d\u00e9sir et d\u2019amour mon \u00e2me est consum\u00e9e\n      Ne tardez plus! J\u00e9sus, mon Bien-Aim\u00e9,\n              Venez, source de vie,\n      Ne tardez plus! J\u00e9sus, mon Bien-Aim\u00e9!\u201d\n\nAgen is mentioned on every page of the religious history of southern\nFrance. In the IIId century we find the confessors of the faith already\nmentioned. Sixty years later S. Phoebadus, a monk of Lerins who became\nBishop of Agen, defended the integrity of the Catholic faith against the\nArians in an able treatise. He was a friend of S. Hilary of Poitiers and\nS. Ambrose of Milan. St. Jerome speaks of him as still living in the\nyear 392: \u201cVivit usque hodie decrepit\u00e2 senectute.\u201d In the time of the\nVisigoths SS. Maurin and Vincent de Liaroles upheld and strengthened the\nfaith in Novempopulania.\n\nIn feudal times the bishops of Agen were high and puissant lords who\nhad the royal prerogative of coining money by virtue of a privilege\nconferred on them by the Dukes of Aquitaine. The money they issued was\ncalled _Moneta Arnaldina_, or _Arnaudenses_, from Arnaud de Boville, a\nmember of the ducal family, who was the first to enjoy the right.\n\nIt was a bishop of Agen, of the illustrious family Della Rovere that\ngave two popes--Sixtus IV. and Julius II.--to the church, who induced\nJulius C\u00e6sar Scaliger to accompany him when he took possession of his\nsee. Scaliger\u2019s romantic passion for a young girl of the place led him\nto settle here for life. Not far from Agen may still be seen the Ch\u00e2teau\nof Verona, which he built on his wife\u2019s land, and named in honor of his\nancestors of Verona--the Della Scalas, whose fine tombs are among the\nmost interesting objects in that city. This ch\u00e2teau is in a charming\nvalley. It remained unaltered till about forty years ago; but it is now\nmodernized, and therefore spoiled. The oaks he planted are cut down, the\nrustic fountain he christened Th\u00e9ocr\u00e8ne is gone. Only two seats, hewn out\nof calcareous rock, remain in the grounds, where he once gathered around\nhim George Buchanan, Muret, Thevius, and other distinguished men of the\nday. These seats are still known as the Fauteuils de Scaliger.\n\nThe elder Scaliger was buried in the church of the Augustinian Friars,\nwhich being destroyed in 1792, his remains were removed by friendly hands\nfor preservation. They have recently been placed at the disposition of\nthe city authorities, who will probably erect some testimonial to one who\nhas given additional celebrity to the place. The last descendant of the\nScaligers--Mlle. Victoire de Lescale--died at Agen, January 25, 1853, at\nthe age of seventy-six years.\n\nAgen figures also in the religious troubles of the XVIth century, as it\nwas part of the appanage of Margaret of Valois; but it generally remained\ntrue to its early traditions. N\u00e9rac, the seat of the Huguenot court at\none time, was too near not to exert its influence. Then came Calvin\nhimself, when he leaped from his window and fled from Paris. Theodore\nBeza too resided there for a time. They were protected by Margaret of\nNavarre, who gathered around her men jealous of the influence of the\nclergy and desirous themselves of ruling over the minds of others.\nThey boldly ridiculed the religious orders, and censured the morals of\nthe priesthood, though so many prelates of the time were distinguished\nfor their holiness and ability. N\u00e9rac has lost all taste for religious\ncontroversy in these material days. It has turned miller, and is only\nnoted for its past aberrations and the present superiority of its flour.\n\nOn the other side of the Garonne, towards the plain of Layrac, we come\nto the old Ch\u00e2teau of Estillac, associated with the memory of Blaise\nde Monluc, the terrible avenger of Huguenot atrocities in this section\nof France. He was an off-shoot of the noble family of Montesquiou,\nand served under Bayard, Lautrec, and Francis I.--a small, thin,\nbilious-looking man, with an eye as cold and hard as steel, and a face\nhorribly disfigured in battle, before whom all parties quailed, Catholic\nas well as Protestant. He had the zeal of a Spaniard and the bravado of a\ntrue Gascon; was sober in his habits, uncompromising in his nature, and,\nliving in his saddle, with rapier in hand, he was always ready for any\nemergency, to strike any blow; faithful to his motto: \u201c_Deo duce, ferro\ncomite_.\u201d\n\nWe are far from justifying the relentless rigor of Monluc; but one\ncannot travel through this country, where at every step is some trace\nof the fury with which the Huguenots destroyed or desecrated everything\nCatholics regard as holy, without finding much to extenuate his course.\nWe must not forget that the butchery which filled the trenches of the\nCh\u00e2teau de Penne was preceded by the sack of Lauzerte, where, according\nto Protestant records, Duras slaughtered five hundred and sixty-seven\nCatholics, of whom one hundred and ninety-four were priests; and that the\nfrightful massacre of Terraube was provoked by the treachery of Bremond,\ncommander of the Huguenots at the siege of Lectoure.\n\nAmong the other remarkable men upon whose traces we here come is\nSulpicius Severus, a native of Agen. His friend, S. Paulinus of Nola,\ntells us he had a brilliant position in the world, and was universally\napplauded for his eloquence; but converted in the very flower of his\nlife, he severed all human ties and retired into solitude. He is said\nto have founded the first monastery in Aquitaine, supposed to be that\nof S. Sever-Rustan, where he gave himself up to literary labors that\nhave perpetuated his name. The Huguenots burned down this interesting\nmonument of the past in 1573, and massacred all the monks. It was from\nthe cloister of Primulacium, as it was then called, that successively\nissued his _Ecclesiastical History_, which won for him the title of\nthe Christian Sallust; the _Life of S. Martin of Tours_, written from\npersonal recollections; and three interesting _Dialogues on the Monastic\nLife_, all of which were submitted to the indulgent criticism of S.\nPaulinus before they were given to the public. The intimacy of these two\ngreat men probably began when S. Paulinus lived in his villa Hebromagus,\non the banks of the Ba\u00efse, and it was by no means broken off by their\nseparation. The latter made every effort to induce his friend to join\nhim at Nola; but we have no reason to complain he did not succeed, for\nthis led to a delightful correspondence we should be sorry to have lost.\nWe give one specimen of it, in which modesty is at swords\u2019 points with\nfriendship. Sulpicius had built a church at Primulacium, and called\nupon his poet-friend to supply him with inscriptions for the walls. The\nbaptistery contained the portrait of S. Martin, and, wishing to add\nthat of Paulinus, he ventured to ask him for it. Paulinus\u2019 humility is\nalarmed, and he flatly refuses; but he soon learns his likeness has\nbeen painted from memory, and is hanging next that of the holy Bishop\nof Tours. He loudly protests, but that is all he can do, except avenge\nhis outraged humility by sending the following inscription to be graven\nbeneath the two portraits: \u201cYou, whose bodies and souls are purified in\nthis salutary bath, cast your eyes on the two models set before you.\nSinners, behold Paulinus; ye just, look at Martin. Martin is the model of\nsaints; Paulinus only that of the guilty!\u201d\n\nSometimes there is a dash of pleasantry in their correspondence, as\nwhen Paulinus sends for some good Gascon qualified to be a cook in\nhis _laura_. Sulpicius despatches Brother Victor with a letter of\nrecommendation which perhaps brought a smile to his friend\u2019s face: \u201cI\nhave just learned that every cook has taken flight from your kitchen.\nI send you a young man trained in our school, sufficiently accomplished\nto serve up the humbler vegetables with sauce and vinegar, and concoct a\nmodest stew that may tempt the palates of hungry cenobites; but I must\nconfess he is entirely ignorant of the use of spices and all luxurious\ncondiments, and it is only right I should warn you of one great fault:\nhe is the mortal enemy of a garden. If you be not careful, he will make\na frightful havoc among all the vegetables he can lay his hands on. He\nmay seldom call on you for wood, but he will burn whatever comes within\nhis reach. He will even lay hold of your rafters, and tear the old joists\nfrom your chimneys.\u201d\n\nAmong other Agen literary celebrities is the poet Antoine de La Pujade,\nwho was secretary of finances to Queen Margaret of Navarre--not the\naccomplished, fascinating sister of Francis I., but the wife of the\n_Vert-Galant_, \u201c_Du tige des Valois belle et royale fleur_,\u201d who\nencouraged and applauded the poet, and even addressed him flattering\nverses. His tender, caressing lines on the death of his little son of\nfour years of age are well known:\n\n    \u201cPetite \u00e2me mignonnelette,\n    Petite mignonne \u00e2melette,\n    H\u00f4tesse d\u2019un si petit corps!\n    Petit mignon, mon petit Pierre,\n    Tu laisses ton corps \u00e0 la terre,\n    Et ton \u00e2me s\u2019en va dehors.\u201d\n\nLa Pujade consecrated his pen to the Blessed Virgin in the _Mariade_, a\npoem of twelve cantos in praise of the _tr\u00e8s sainte et tr\u00e8s sacr\u00e9e Vierge\nMarie_.\n\nAnother rhymer of Agen, and a courtier also, is Guillaume du Sable, a\nHuguenot, who in his verses held up his wife, his daughter, and his\nson-in-law as utterly given up to avarice. As for himself, he was always\nready to spend! Yes, and as ready to beg. That he was by no means\ngrasping, that his palms never itched, is shown by his poems, which are\nfull of petitions to the king for horses, clothes, and appointments. Like\nso many of his co-religionists, he did not disdain the spoils of the\nenemy, as is apparent from this modest request to Henry IV.:\n\n    \u201cMais voulez-vous gu\u00e9rir, Sire, ma pauvret\u00e9?\n    Donnez-moi, s\u2019il vous plait, la petite abbaye,\n    Ou quelque prieur\u00e9 le reste de ma vie,\n    Puisque je l\u2019ai vou\u00e9e \u00e0 votre majest\u00e9.\u201d\n\nHe wrote against priests and monks, but stuck to the royal party,\ncondemning all who revolted under pretext of religion. Perhaps the most\nsupportable of his works is that against the Spanish Inquisition--a\nsubject that never needs any _sauce piquante_. His _Tragique El\u00e9gie du\njour de Saint Barth\u00e9lemy_ affords an additional proof in favor of the\napproximate number of _one thousand_ victims at the deplorable massacre\nof August 24, 1572.\n\nAs a proof of the tenacity with which the Agenais have clung to past\nreligious traditions and customs, we will cite the popular saying\nthat arose from the unusual dispensations granted during Lent by Mgr.\nH\u00e9bert, the bishop of the diocese, in a time of great distress after an\nunproductive year:\n\n\u201cEn milo sept centz nau L\u2019abesque d\u2019Agen debengu\u00e8t Higounau\u201d--In 1709 the\nBishop of Agen turned Huguenot!\n\nLeaving Agen by the railway to Tarbes, we came in ten minutes to Notre\nDame de Bon Encontre--a spot to which all the sorrows and fears and\nhopes of the whole region around are brought. This chapel is especially\nfrequented during the month of May, when one parish after another comes\nhere to invoke the protection of Mary. A continual incense of prayer\nseems to rise on the sacred air from this sweet woodland spire. A few\nhouses cluster around the pretty church, which is surmounted by a\ncolossal statue of the Virgin overlooking the whole valley and flooding\nit with peace, love, and boundless mercy. The image of her who is so\ninterwoven with the great mysteries of the redemption can never be looked\nupon with indifference or without profit. The soul that finds Mary in\nthe tangled grove of this sad world enters upon a \u201cmoonlit way of sweet\nsecurity.\u201d\n\nWe next pass Astaffort, a little village perched on a hill overlooking\nthe river Gers, justifying its ancient device: _Sta fortiter_.[99] It\nplayed an important part in the civil wars of the country. The Prince\nde Cond\u00e9 occupied the place with four hundred men, and, attacked by the\nroyalists, they were all slain but the prince and his valet, who made\ntheir escape. A cross marks the burial-place of the dead behind the\nchurch of Astaffort, still known as the field of the Huguenots.\n\nLectoure, like an eagle\u2019s nest built on a cliff, is the next station,\nand merits a short tarry; for, though fallen from its ancient grandeur,\nit is a town full of historic interest, and contains many relics of the\npast. It is a place mentioned by C\u00e6sar and Pliny, and yet so small that\nwe wonder what it has been doing in the meantime. It was one of the\nnine cities of Novempopulania, and in the IXth century still boasted\nthe Roman franchise, and was the centre of light and legislation to the\ncountry around, on which it imposed its customs and laws. It governed\nitself, lived its own individual life, unaffected by the changes of\nsurrounding provinces, and proudly styled itself in its public documents\n\u201cthe Republic of Lectoure.\u201d In the XIIth century it was the stronghold of\nthe Vicomtes de Lomagne; and when Richard C\u0153ur de Lion wished to bring\nVivian II. of that house to terms, he laid siege to Lectoure, which,\nthough stoutly defended for a time, was finally obliged to yield. In\n1305 it belonged to the family of Bertrand de Got (Pope Clement V.),\nwhich accounts for a bull of his being dated at Lectoure. Count John of\nArmagnac married Reine de Got, the pope\u2019s niece, in 1311, and thus the\ncity fell into the hands of the haughty Armagnacs, who made it their\ncapital. At this time they were the mightiest lords of the South of\nFrance, and seemed to have inherited the ancient glory of the Counts of\nToulouse. For a time they held the destiny of France itself in their\nhands. For one hundred and fifty years they took a prominent part in all\nthe French wars. Their banner, with its lion rampant, floated on every\nbattle-field. Their war-cry--Armagnac!--resounded in the ears of the\nDerbys and Talbots. It was an Armagnac that sustained the courage of\nFrance after the surrender of King John at Poitiers; an Armagnac that\nunited all the South against the English in the Etats-G\u00e9n\u00e9raux de Niort;\nand an Armagnac--Count Bernard VI.--who maintained the equilibrium of\nFrance when Jean-sans-Peur of Burgundy aimed at supremacy, and fell a\nvictim to Burgundian vengeance at Paris.\n\nLectoure gives proofs of its antiquity and the changes it has passed\nthrough in the remains of its triple wall; its fountain of Diana; the\nbronzes, statuettes, jewels, and old Roman votive altars, that are now\nand then brought to light; its medi\u00e6val castle, and the interesting old\nchurch built by the English during their occupancy, with its massive\nsquare tower, whence we look off over the valley of the Gers, with its\norchards and vineyards and verdant meadows shut in by wooded hills, and\nsee stretching away to the south the majestic outline of the Pyrenees.\n\nAt the west of Lectoure is the forest of Ramier, in the midst of which\nonce stood the Cistercian abbey of Bouillas--Bernardus valles--founded in\n1125, but now entirely destroyed.\n\n    \u201cNever was spot more sadly meet\n    For lonely prayer and hermit feet.\u201d\n\nThere is a popular legend connected with these woods, the truth of which\nI do not vouch for--I tell the tale as \u2019twas told to me:\n\nA poor charcoal-burner, who lived in this forest close by the stream\nof Rieutort, had always been strictly devout to God and the blessed\nsaints, but, on his deathbed, in a moment of despair at leaving his\nthree motherless children without a groat to bless themselves with,\ninvoked in their behalf the foul spirit usually supposed to hold dominion\nover the bowels of the earth, with its countless mines of silver and\ngold. He died, and his three sons buried him beside their mother in the\ngraveyard of Pauillac; but the wooden cross they set up to mark the spot\nobstinately refused to remain in the ground. Terrified at this ominous\ncircumstance, the poor children fled to their desolate cabin. The night\nwas dark and cold, and wolves were howling in the forest. \u201cBrothers,\u201d\nsaid the oldest, \u201cwe shall die of hunger and cold. There is not a crumb\nof bread in the house, and the doctor carried off all our blankets\nyesterday for his services. The Abbey of Bouillas is only half a league\noff. I am sure the good monks will not refuse alms to my brother Juan.\nAnd little Pierr\u00e9to shall watch the house while I go to the Castle of\nGoas.\u201d\n\nBoth brothers set off, leaving Pierr\u00e9to alone in the cabin. He trembled\nwith fear and the cold, and at length the latter so far prevailed\nthat he ventured to the door to see if he could not catch a glimpse\nof his brothers on their way home. It was now \u201cthe hour when spirits\nhave power.\u201d Not a hundred steps off he saw a group of men dressed in\nrich attire, silently--\u201call silent and all damned\u201d--warming themselves\naround a good fire. The shivering child took courage, and, drawing near\nthe band, begged for some coals to light his fire. They assented, and\nPierr\u00e9to hurriedly gathered up a few and went away. But no sooner had he\nre-entered the cabin than they instantly went out. He went the second\ntime, and again they were extinguished. The third time the leader of the\nband frowned, but gave him a large brand, and threateningly told him not\nto come again. The brand went out like the coals; and the men and fire\ndisappeared as suddenly. Pierr\u00e9to remained half dead with fright. An\nhour after Juan returned from the Convent of Bouillas with bread enough\nto last a week, and Simoun soon arrived from the castle with three warm\nblankets.\n\nWhen daylight appeared, Pierr\u00e9to went to the fire-place to look at his\ncoals, and found they had all turned to gold. The two oldest now had the\nmeans of making their way in the world. One became a brave soldier, and\nthe other a prosperous merchant; but Pierro became a brother in the Abbey\nof Bouillas. Night after night, as he paced the dark cloisters praying\nfor his father\u2019s soul, he heard a strange rushing as of fierce wind\nthrough the arches, and a wailing sound as sad as the _Miserere_. Pierro\nshuddered and thought of the cross that refused to darken his father\u2019s\ngrave; but he only prayed the longer and the more earnestly.\n\nYears passed away. Simoun and Juan, who had never married, weary of\nhonors and gain, came to join their brother in his holy retreat. Their\nwealth, that had so mysterious an origin, was given to God in the person\nof the poor. Then only did the troubled soul of their father find rest,\nand the holy cross consent to throw its shadow across his humble grave.\n\nLectoure is surrounded by ramparts; but the most remarkable of its\nancient defences is the old castle of the Counts of Armagnac, converted\ninto a hospital by the Bishop of Lectoure in the XVIIIth century. This\ncastle witnessed the shameless crimes of Count John IV. and their fearful\nretribution at the taking of Lectoure under Louis XI. The tragical\nhistory of this great lord affords a new proof of the salutary authority\nexercised by the church over brutal power and unrestrained passion during\nthe Middle Ages.\n\nThere is no more striking example of the degradation of an illustrious\nrace than that of John V., the last Count of Armagnac, who shocked the\nwhole Christian world by an unheard-of scandal. Having solicited in\nvain a dispensation to marry his sister Isabella, who was famous for\nher beauty, he made use of a pretended license, fraudulently drawn up\nin the very shadow of the papal court, as some say, to allay Isabella\u2019s\nscruples, and celebrated this monstrous union with the greatest pomp. He\nforgot, in the intoxication of power and the delirium of passion, there\ncould be any restraint on his wishes, that there was a higher tribunal\nwhich watched vigilantly over the infractions of the unchangeable laws\nof morality and religion. The pope fulminated a terrible excommunication\nagainst them. King Charles VII., hoping to wipe out so fearful a stain\nby the sacred influences of family affection, sent the most influential\nmembers of the count\u2019s family to exert their authority; but in vain.\nThe king soon turned against him, because he favored the revolt of the\nDauphin, and sent an army to invade his territory. Count John\u2019s only fear\nwas of losing Isabella; and rather than separate from her to fight for\nthe defence of his domains, he fled with her to the valley of Aure, while\nthe royal army ravaged his lands.\n\nCondemned to perpetual banishment, deprived of his dominions, his power\ngone, under the ban of the church, his eyes were opened to the extent of\nhis degradation, his soul was filled with remorse. He took the pilgrim\u2019s\nstaff and set out for Rome, begging his bread by the way, to seek\nabsolution for himself and his sister. Isabella retired from the world\nto do penance for her sins in the Monastery of Mount Sion at Barcelona.\nThe church, which never spurns the repentant sinner, however stained with\ncrime, granted him absolution on very severe conditions. The learned\n\u00c6neas Sylvius (Pius II.) occupied the chair of S. Peter at that time.\nHis great heart was touched by the heroic penance of so great a lord. He\nreceived him kindly, dwelt on the enormity of the scandal he had given to\nthe world, and reminded him that Pope Zachary had condemned a man, guilty\nof an offence of the same nature, to go on a round of pilgrimages for\nfourteen years, the first seven of which he was ordered to wear an iron\nchain attached to his neck or wrist, fast three times a week, and only\ndrink wine on Sundays; but the last seven he was only required to fast on\nFridays; after which he was admitted to Communion.\n\nMore merciful, Pius II. enjoined on Count John never to hold any\ncommunication with Isabella by word, letter, or message; to distribute\nthree thousand gold crowns for the reparation of churches and\nmonasteries; and to fast every Friday on bread and water till he could\ntake up arms against the Turks; all of which the count solemnly promised\nto do. Nor do we read he ever violated his word. Affected by such an\nexample of penitence, the pope addressed Charles VII. a touching brief to\ninduce him to pardon the count.\n\nWhen Louis XI. came to the throne, remembering the services he had\nreceived from Count John, he restored him to his rank. The count now\nmarried a daughter of the house of Foix. Everything seemed repaired.\nBut divine justice is not satisfied. Louis XI., determined to destroy\nthe almost sovereign power of the great vassals, took advantage of\nCount John\u2019s offences against his government, and resolved on his\ndestruction. He sent an army to besiege him at Lectoure. At this siege\nIsabella\u2019s son made his first essay at arms, and displayed the valor of\nhis race but the young hero finally perished in a rash sortie, and the\ncount soon after capitulated. The royal forces, taking possession of\nthe place, basely violated the terms of surrender. The city was sacked\nand nearly all the inhabitants massacred. Among the victims was Count\nJohn himself, who died invoking the Virgin. The walls of the city were\npartly demolished, and fire set to the four quarters. The dead were left\nunburied, and for two months the wolves that preyed thereon were the only\noccupants of the place. Never was there a more fearful retribution. It\ntook the city nearly a century to recover in a measure from this horrible\ncalamity.\n\nLectoure was in the hands of the Huguenots when Monluc laid siege to it\nin 1562. Bremond, the commander, offered to capitulate, and, proposing an\nexchange of hostages, he asked for Verduzan, La Chapelie, and a third.\nMonluc consented, and as they approached the gates of the city they were\nfired upon by thirty or forty arquebusiers, but without effect. Monluc\ncried out that was not the fidelity of an honest man, but of a Huguenot.\nBremond protested his innocence of the deed, and, pretending to seize\none of the guilty men, he hung an innocent Catholic on the walls in\nsight of Monluc. Unaware of the fraud, the hostages again approached,\nand again they were fired upon. A gentleman from Agen was killed and\nothers wounded. Indignant at such treachery, and supposing his own life\nparticularly aimed at, Monluc exclaimed that, since they held their\npromises so lightly, he would do the same with his, and he immediately\nsent Verduzan with a company of soldiers to Terraube to despatch the\nprisoners whose lives he had spared. This order was executed with as\nmuch exactness as barbarity, and the implacable Monluc declared he had\nmade \u201ca fine end of some very bad fellows.\u201d\n\nBremond, urged by the inhabitants, again renewed negotiations, and\nfinally surrendered the city on condition of being allowed to withdraw\nwith his troops to Bearn, flags flying and drums beating, and the\nProtestants left in the place permitted the free exercise of their\nreligion--terms that were faithfully kept by Monluc.\n\nIt was probably the sympathy of Lectoure with the Huguenot party that led\nCharles IX. to deprive it of many of its ancient rights and privileges,\nwhich hastened its decline. It put on a semblance of its former grandeur,\nhowever, when it received Henry IV. within its walls, and Anne of Austria\nwith Cardinal Richelieu.\n\nIt was in the old historic castle that Richelieu imprisoned the\nunfortunate Duc de Montmorency. The people favored his escape, and sent\nhim a silk ladder in a _p\u00e2t\u00e9_; but his kindness of heart led to his\ndestruction. Desirous of saving a servant to whom he was attached, he\ntook him with him in his attempt to escape. The servant fell from the\nladder, and was wounded. His cry aroused the guard. Montmorency was\ntaken and soon after beheaded at Toulouse. The soldiers present at his\nexecution drank some of his blood, that, infused into their veins, it\nmight impart something of the valor of so brave a man. He was so beloved\nby the common people that the peasantry of Castelnaudry, where he was\ntaken prisoner, are familiar with his history, and speak of him with\nadmiration and affection to this day. His wife, an Italian princess,\nbecame a Visitandine nun after his execution.\n\nOne cannot visit the old castle of Lectoure, with its thousand memories,\nwithout emotion. It is now a hospital. Charity has taken the place of\nbrutality and lawless passion. Looking off from the walls over the\npleasant valley below, watered by streams and divided by long lines of\ntrees, we hear the song of the peaceful laborer instead of the battle-cry\nof the olden time, and the lowing of the fawn-colored Gascon cattle\ninstead of the neighing of war-horses.\n\nBefore the castle opens a street that goes straight through the town,\nat the further end of which is the parish church of S. Gervais, a fine,\nspacious edifice of the Saxo-Gothic style, built by the English during\ntheir rule. The immense square tower was once a fortress, called the\ntower of S. Thomas, from which the sentinel signalled the approach of the\nenemy. It was formerly surmounted by the highest steeple in France, but,\nrepeatedly struck by lightning, it was taken down some years ago by order\nof the bishop.\n\nThe Carmelite nuns at Lectoure have had from time immemorial a cross\nof marvellous efficacy, especially in cases of fever. It is of a style\nnot often met with in France, though common in Spain, where it is held\nin great veneration from its miraculous prototype--the Santa Cruz de\nCaravaca.\n\nThis cross is made of copper, and has two cross-beams, like a patriarchal\ncross, with figures in relief on each side, which are connected with an\ninteresting history. On the top of one side of the cross is the monogram\nof Christ, with a crosslet above and the three nails of the Passion\nbelow. The upper cross-beam has a chalice on the left arm, and on the\nright the lance that pierced the Sacred Heart, crossed by a reed with a\nsponge at the end. In the middle is an open space for relics.\n\nOn the left arm of the lower cross-beam is the scourge and the lantern\nthat lit the soldiers to the Garden of Olives; on the right is a ladder;\nand in the centre the cock crowing on a pillar that extends up from the\nfoot of the cross, at which is a death\u2019s head.\n\nThese are the usual emblems of the Passion, familiar to all; but the\nother side is more mysterious. On the upper part is a patriarchal cross\nsupported by two angels, one on each arm of the upper cross-beam. Lower\ndown, in the centre of the lower cross-beam, is a priest in sacerdotal\nvestments, ready to offer the Holy Sacrifice, standing in an attitude of\nastonishment and admiration, looking up at the cross borne by the two\nangels. On his breast is the monogram of Christ, and beneath that of the\nVirgin. On each side are lilies in full bloom, and above his head, in\nthe centre of the upper cross-beam, stands a chalice, as on an altar,\ncovered with the sacred linen veil. It is evident the artist intended to\nrepresent all the objects necessary to celebrate the Holy Sacrifice of\nthe Mass. There are two lighted candles at the side of the priest, and\nat the end of the right arm of the lower cross-beam are two kings filled\nwith evident amazement, one of whom is gazing at the angelic apparition.\nAt the left extremity is a queen and an attendant.\n\nThe Cross of Caravaca is associated with a chivalric legend of southern\nSpain. We give it as related by Juan de Robles, a priest of Caravaca,\nwhose account was published at Madrid in 1615.\n\nAbout the year of our Lord 1227 there reigned at Valencia a Moorish\nprince, known in the ancient Spanish chronicles by the Arabic name\nof Zeyt Abuzeyt, who embraced Christianity. According to Zurita, he\nbecame King of Murcia and Valencia in 1224, and was at first a violent\npersecutor of his Christian subjects. In 1225 he made peace with Iago,\nKing of Aragon, promising him one-fifth of the revenues of his two\ncapitals, which enraged his people and caused him the loss of Murcia. The\nMoors, discovering he held secret intercourse with the King of Aragon and\nthe pope, drove him from Valencia in 1229. He died about 1248, before\nKing Iago took possession of that city.\n\nZeyt Abuzeyt\u2019s conversion to Christianity took place in consequence\nof a miracle that occurred in his presence at Caravaca, a town in his\nkingdom where he happened to be. At that time the Spanish victories\nover the Moors announced the speedy expulsion of the latter from the\nPeninsula, and frequent conversions took place among them. A Christian\npriest ventured among the Moors of the kingdom of Murcia to preach the\nGospel. He was seized and brought before Zeyt Abuzeyt, who asked him many\nquestions concerning the Christian religion, and, in particular, about\nthe Sacrifice of the Mass. The explanations of the priest interested him\nso much that he requested him to celebrate the Holy Mysteries in his\npresence. The priest, not having the necessary articles, sent for them\nto the town of Concha, which was in the hands of the Christians; but it\nhappened that the cross, which should always be on the altar during the\ncelebration of Mass, had been forgotten. The priest, not remarking the\ndeficiency, began the Holy Sacrifice, but, soon observing the cross was\nwanting, did not know what to do. The king, who was present with his\nfamily and the court, seeing the priest suddenly turn pale, asked what\nhad happened. \u201cThere is no cross on the altar,\u201d replied the priest. \u201cBut\nis not that one?\u201d replied the king, who at that moment saw two angels\nplacing a cross on the altar. The good priest joyfully gave thanks\nto God and continued the sacred rites. So marvellous an occurrence\ntriumphed over the infidelity of Zeyt Abuzeyt, and he at once professed\nhis faith in Christ. Popular tradition says he was baptized by the name\nof Ferdinand, in honor of the holy king, Ferdinand III., who stood as\nsponsor. Pope Urban IV. addressed him a brief of felicitation on account\nof his baptism.\n\nZeyt Abuzeyt had one son, who received the name of Vincent when baptized,\nand subsequently married a Christian maiden. At the death of his father\nhe took the title of the King of Valencia, which he held till the King of\nAragon took possession of the city. He then contented himself with the\nlands and revenues assigned him by the conqueror.\n\nThis account explains the figures on the Cross of Caravaca. We see the\nastonished priest and the cross borne by the angels. The two kings,\nwho are gazing at the cross, are of course King Zeyt Abuzeyt and S.\nFerdinand, his god-father. The queen opposite is doubtless Dominica\nLopez, whom, according to tradition, he married after his baptism; and\nbeside her is her daughter, called Aldea Fernandez in honor of King\nFerdinand.\n\nThis cross, to which a great number of miracles are attributed, is\npreserved with great care in the church at Caravaca, in the ancient\nkingdom of Murcia. It is believed to be made of the sacred wood of the\ntrue cross. A great number of similar crosses have since been made, and\nthere is hardly a family in Spain which has not a Cross of Caravaca. Many\npeople wear one.\n\nS. Teresa had great devotion to this cross, and her cross of Caravaca\nfell into the possession of the Carmelites of Brussels, who gave it to\nthe monastery of S. Denis during the time of Mme. Louise of France; but\nthis precious relic has since been restored to the convent at Brussels.\n\nOn an eminence in sight of Lectoure is one of the sanctuaries of\nmysterious origin dear to popular piety, so numerous in this country. It\nis Notre Dame d\u2019Esclaux. Its modest tower looks down on a secluded valley\nwhich delights the eye with its freshness and fertility, its fine trees,\nand the sparkling streams here and there among the verdure. Beyond are\nfertile heights in the direction of N\u00e9rac. The origin of this church is\nsomewhat obscure. Old traditions tell of oxen kneeling in a thicket in\nthe meadow belonging to the lord of S. M\u00e9zard. The shepherds, attracted\nby the circumstance, found a statue of Our Lady buried in the ground.\nThere are many instances of similar discoveries in this region. The\nanimals that witnessed the Nativity have always had a certain sacredness\nin the eyes of the people, and they have part in many an ancient legend,\nlike that in which they are made to kneel at the midnight hour at\nChristmas. The lord of the manor built a chapel for the wondrous image,\nand a fountain soon after sprang up, which to this day is celebrated\nfor its miraculous virtues. The most ancient document concerning this\nchapel bears the date of April 23, 1626, stating it had been destroyed\nby the Huguenots during the religious wars, and owed its restoration\nto the piety of the noble family who, according to tradition, first\nfounded it. The concourse of pilgrims has not ceased for three centuries.\nWhole parishes come here in procession in perpetual remembrance of some\ngreat benefit. The parish of Pergain has not failed to make its annual\npilgrimage for two hundred years in fulfilment of a vow made to avert\nthe divine wrath after a fearful hail-storm that had ravaged its lands.\nOnly a few of the wonders wrought in this sanctuary have been recorded.\nWe find a striking one, however, in the beginning of last century. A\nlittle boy of seven years of age, who had never walked in his life and\nhad no use whatever of his feet, was taken by his pious parents to Notre\nDame d\u2019Esclaux, where Mass was said for his benefit. At the moment of\nthe Elevation the little cripple rose without assistance, and went up to\nthe railing of the chancel, and afterwards walked home to La Romieu, a\ndistance of about six miles. He always celebrated the anniversary of his\nmiraculous cure with pious gratitude, and his descendants have continued\nto do the same to this day. The details of this wonderful occurrence have\nbeen furnished by M. Lavardens, the present head of the family, one of\nthe most respectable in the region.\n\nA path leads the devout pilgrim up the sad way of the cross to the summit\nof the hill, where stands a large crucifix, in which is enshrined a relic\nof the true cross. We loved to see these heights consecrated to religion\nwith the sign of the Passion--emblem of the triumph of moral liberty.\n\n    \u201cO faithful Cross! O noblest tree!\n    In all our woods there\u2019s none like thee.\n    No earthly groves, no shady bowers,\n    Produce such leaves, such fruit, such flowers;\n    Sweet are the nails, and sweet the wood,\n    That bear a weight so sweet and good.\u201d\n\nFifteen minutes\u2019 walk to the south of Lectoure brings you to the Chapel\nof S. Geny, on the banks of the Gers. Behind it rises the mount on whose\nsummit this saint of the early times was wont to pray. Here he was when\nthirty soldiers, sent by the Roman governor in pursuit of him, appeared\non the other side of the Gers. S. Geny lifted up his clean hands and pure\nheart to heaven. The hill trembled beneath his knees. The river rose so\nhigh that for two days the amazed soldiers were unable to cross, and then\nit was to throw themselves at the saint\u2019s feet and acknowledge the power\nof the true God. They received baptism, and were soon after martyred in a\nplace long known as the \u201cBlood of the Innocents.\u201d A new band being sent\nagainst S. Geny, he again ascends the mount, but this time to pray his\nsoul may be received among those whose robes have just been washed white\nin the blood of the Lamb. And while he was praying with eyes uplifted\nthe heavens opened, he saw the newly-crowned martyrs, encircled with\nrejoicing angels, chanting: Let those who have overcome the adversary\nand kept their garments undefiled have their names written in the Lamb\u2019s\nbook of life! At this sight the saint\u2019s knees bend, his ravished soul\nbreaks loose from its bonds and takes flight for heaven. This was on the\n3d of May. His body remained on the top of the mount, giving out an odor\nof mysterious sweetness, till the Bishop of Lectoure brought it down to\nthe foot of the hill, and buried it in the little church S. Geny had\nerected over his mother\u2019s tomb. Not long after two persons, overtaken\nby darkness, sought refuge in this oratory, and found it filled with a\ngreat light and embalmed with lilies and roses--beautiful emblems of the\nsupernatural love and purity that had distinguished the saint.\n\nNot far from Lectoure was once another \u201cdevout chapel,\u201d one of the most\nnoted in the country around--Notre Dame de Protection, in the village\nof Tudet, a place of pilgrimage as far back as the XIIth century. The\nMadonna has a miraculous origin, like so many others in this \u201cLand of\nMary.\u201d According to the old legend, it was discovered by shepherds in\na fountain at which an ox had refused to drink. The statue was set\nup beside the spring, and became a special object of devotion to the\nneighborhood and a source of many supernatural favors. Vivian II.,\nVicomte de Lomagne, in gratitude for personal benefits received, built\na chapel for the reception of the statue in 1178, but, as it proved too\nsmall for the numerous votaries, Henry II. of England, a few years after,\nerected a large church adjoining Vivian\u2019s chapel, with a hospice, served\nby monks, for the accommodation of pilgrims. All over the neighboring\nhills rose little cells inhabited by hermits drawn to this favored\nspot from the remotest parts of southern France. Not only the common\npeople, but the nobles and renowned warriors of the Middle Ages, and\neven the kings of France, came here to implore the protection of the\nVirgin. Every year, at spring-time, came the inhabitants of Lectoure,\nFleurance, and all the neighboring parishes, often fourteen or fifteen\nat a time, accompanied by priests in their robes and magistrates in red\nofficial garments, chanting hymns in honor of Mary. Countless miracles\nwere wrought at her altar. The walls were covered with crutches and _ex\nvotos_. One of the fathers of Tudet writes thus at the close of last\ncentury: \u201cHere Mary may be said to manifest her power and goodness in a\nspecial manner. How many times has she not caused the paralytic to walk,\ncured the epileptic, given sight to the blind, hearing to the deaf, and\nspeech to the dumb! How often has she not healed the sick at the very\ngates of death, snatched people from destruction at the very moment of\ndanger, and put an end to hail-storms, tempests, and the plague!\u201d\n\nNothing enrages the impious so much as the evidences of a piety that is a\nconstant reproach to their lives; and the Revolution of 1793 swept away,\nnot only the ancient chapel of the Viscounts of Lomagne, but the church\nof Henry II., the hospice, and the hermits\u2019 cells, leaving only a few\nbroken arches where now and then a solitary pilgrim went to pray. The\nmiraculous statue, however, was rescued from profanation, and for a long\ntime buried in the ground. It is still honored in the village church of\nGaudonville, but it is only a mutilated trunk, its head and most of the\nlimbs being gone. So many holy recollections, however, are associated\nwith it, that people still gather around it to pray, especially in\nharvest-time, to be spared the ravages of hail, often so destructive in\nthis region.\n\nSome of the old hymns in the expressive Gascon tongue, as sung at Notre\nDame de Protection, are still extant, and nothing is more pathetic than\nto see a group of hard-working peasants around the altar of the chapel of\nGaudonville singing:\n\n    \u201cJ\u00e9sus, bous aouets tribaillat\n    Pren\u00e9ts noste tribail en grat!\u201d[100]\n\nor:\n\n    \u201cJ\u00e9sus! bous ets lou boun Pastou,\n    Bost\u2019oilhe qu\u2019ey lou p\u00e9cadou\n    Gouardats-lou deu loup infernau,\n      Et de touto sorto de mau!\u201d[101]\n\nAmong other prayers they chant is a rhymed litany of twenty-seven saints\nof different trades, and twenty-one shepherd saints, with an appropriate\ninvocation to each, not exactly poetical, but, sung by the uncultivated\nvoices of poor laborers in that rustic chapel in a measured mournful\ncadence, there is something akin to poesy--something higher--which\nawakens profound and salutary thoughts. It is in this way they invoke S.\nSpiridion, the reaper; S. Auber, the laborer in the vineyard; S. Isidore,\nthe gardener:\n\n\u201cSent Isidore, qui ets estats Coum nous au tribail occupat,\u201d etc.--S.\nIsidore, who wast like us in labor occupied, etc.--a touching appeal for\nsympathy to that unseen world of saints of every tribe and tongue and\ndegree, which excludes not the highest, and admits the lowest.\n\nThe Church of Notre Dame de Tudet is about to be rebuilt. The\ncorner-stone was laid a short time since on the feast of Our Lady of\nProtection, under the patronage of the pious descendants of the ancient\nViscounts of Lomagne, true to the traditions of their race. The entire\npopulation of fourteen neighboring villages assembled to witness the\nsolemn ceremony and pray in a spot so venerated by their ancestors.\nThe mutilated statue of Gaudonville is to be restored, and brought\nback in triumph to the place where it was once so honored. Thus all\nthrough France there is a singular revival of devotion to the venerable\nsanctuaries of the Middle Ages. Everywhere they are being repaired or\nrebuilt--a significant fact of good augury for the church.\n\nTO BE CONCLUDED NEXT MONTH.\n\n\nBROTHER PHILIP.[102]\n\nThe century in which we live has distinguished itself by a terrible\npropaganda of evil, error and corruption taking every variety of form to\ninsinuate themselves into society; yet this same century is also marked\nby great and generous efforts in the cause of truth and goodness, and\nin these France has proved herself true to her ancient vocation. From\na peculiar vivacity of energy (if we may be allowed the expression) in\nthe national character, whether for good or for evil, the land that\nhas produced some of the most hardened atheists, the worst and wildest\ncommunists, and the most frivolous votaries of pleasure, continues to\nproduce the most numerous and devoted missionaries, the readiest martyrs,\nand saints whose long lives of hidden toil for God and his church are a\nnoble pendant to her martyrs\u2019 deaths.\n\nOne of these lives of unobtrusive toil is now before us--that of Brother\nPhilip, who during thirty-five years was Superior-General of the Fr\u00e8res\ndes Ecoles Chr\u00e9tiennes, or Brothers of the Christian Schools. Before\ntracing it, even in the imperfect manner which is all for which we have\nspace, it will be well to give a brief sketch of the institute of which\nhe was for so long the honored head.\n\nJean Baptiste de la Salle, the son of noble parents, was born at Rheims\nin the year 1651. Entering Holy Orders early in life, he greatly\ndistinguished himself in the priesthood, not only as a scholar and\ntheologian, but also as an orator, so eloquent and persuasive that he\nmight have aspired to the highest dignities in the church had he not\nchosen to limit his ambition to the lowly work of popular education. This\neducation was not then in existence. Not that there was an utter absence\nof schools, but these were all unconnected with each other, and were\nbesides greatly wanting in any good and efficient method of teaching. The\nAbb\u00e9 de la Salle invented the simultaneous method, namely, that which\nconsists in giving lessons to a whole class at a time, instead of to each\nchild separately. The subjects of instruction were reading, writing,\nFrench grammar, arithmetic, and geometry, with Christian teaching as\nthe basis and invariable accompaniment of all the rest. He founded an\nassociation of religious who were not to enter the priesthood, of which,\nhowever, they were to become the most efficient allies in the education\nof the young according to the mind of the church, this intention being\ntheir distinguishing characteristic. Resolving to live in community with\nthem, he resigned his canonry at Rheims, and sold his rich patrimony,\ndistributing the money among the poor. He gave the brethren their rule,\nand also the habit which they wear. Thus a new religious family, not\necclesiastical, appeared in France, the members of which were only to\nbe brothers, united by the vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience.\nThe Abb\u00e9 de la Salle also established a school for training teachers,\nwhich was the first normal school ever founded in France; he also\noriginated Sunday-schools for the young apprentices of different trades,\nand _pensionnats_, or boarding-schools, the first of which was opened\nat Paris, for the Irish youths protected by James II. of England, and\nfugitives like himself.\n\nThe chief house of the order was St. Yon (formerly Hauteville), an\nancient manor just outside the gates of Rouen, surrounded by an extensive\nenclosure, and affording a peaceful solitude where M. de la Salle enjoyed\nhis few brief intervals of repose in this world. He had been invited to\nsettle there by Mgr. Colbert, Archbishop of Rouen, and M. de Pontcarr\u00e9,\nFirst President of the Parliament of Normandy, and, after the death of\nLouis XIV., made it more and more the centre of his work. It was at St.\nYon that he resigned the post of superior-general in 1716, and there he\ndied on Good Friday, the 7th of April, 1719, aged sixty-eight years. The\nhouse was soon afterwards enlarged and a church built, to which in 1734\nthe Brothers transferred the remains of their holy founder, which had\nuntil then rested in the Church of S. Sever.\n\nThe Brothers of the Christian Schools were called the Brothers of St.\nYon, and sometimes les Fr\u00e8res Yontains, whence originated the title\nof Fr\u00e8res Ignorantins, which has, however, been _lived down_ by the\ninstitute, the excellence of the instruction afforded by the Christian\nSchools not permitting the perpetuation of the derisive epithet.\n\nThe new order supplied a want too generally felt not to extend itself\nrapidly, and at the time of the Abb\u00e9 de la Salle\u2019s death it numbered\ntwenty-seven houses, two-hundred and seventy-four Brothers, and nine\nthousand eight hundred and eighty-five pupils. In 1724 Louis XV. granted\nit letters-patent expressive of his approval, and it was in the same\nyear that Pope Benedict XIII. accorded canonical institution to the\ncongregation, thus realizing the earnest desire of the venerable founder,\nthat his institute should be recognized by the Sovereign Pontiff as a\nreligious order, with a distinctive character and special constitutions.\nBrother Timothy was at that time superior-general. He governed the\ninstitute with energy and wisdom for thirty-one years, during which time\nno less than seventy additional houses of the order were established\nin various of the principal towns of France, everywhere meeting with\nencouragement and protection from the bishops and the Christian nobility,\nso that every inauguration of a school was made an occasion of rejoicing.\n\nThe successor of Brother Timothy was Brother Claude, who was\nsuperior-general from 1751 to 1767, when, having attained the age of\nseventy-seven, he resigned his office, continuing to live eight years\nlonger in the house of St. Yon, where he died. It was at this period that\nthe atheism of the XVIIIth century was making its worst ravages. A band\nof writers, under the leadership of Voltaire, laid siege, as it were,\nto Christianity, by a regular plan of attack, and, employing as their\nweapons a false and superficial philosophy, distorted history, raillery,\nridicule, corruption, and lies, they conspired against the truth, while\nlicentiousness of mind and manners infected society and literature alike.\nAt the very time when the followers of the faith were devoting themselves\nwith renewed energy to the instruction of the ignorant and the succor\nof the needy, philosophy, so-called, by the pen of Voltaire, wrote as\nfollows:\n\n\u201cThe people are only fit to be directed, not instructed; they are not\nworth the trouble.\u201d[103]\n\n\u201cIt appears to me absolutely essential that there should be ignorant\nbeggars. It is the towns-people (_bourgeoisie_) only, not the\nworking-classes, who ought to be taught.\u201d[104]\n\n\u201cThe common people are like oxen: the goad, the yoke, and fodder are\nenough for _them_.\u201d[105] Thus contemptuously were the people regarded\nby anti-Christian philosophy, which, while it paid court to any form of\nearthly power, perpetuated, and even outdid, the traditions of pagan\nantiquity in its hardness and disdain towards the lower orders.\n\nOn the retirement of Brother Claude, Brother Florentius accepted,\nin 1777, the direction of the house at Avignon, where the storm of\nRevolution burst upon him. After undergoing imprisonment and every kind\nof insulting and cruel treatment he died a holy death, in 1800, when\norder was beginning to be restored to France.\n\nBrother Agathon, who next ruled the congregation, was a man of high\nculture in special lines of study, of wise discernment regarding the\ninterests and requirements of the religious life, and of rare capacity as\nan administrator. The circular-addresses he issued from time to time have\nnever lost their authority with the Brothers, and furnish a supplement\nas well as a commentary to the rule of their institute. He did much to\nincrease the extent and efficiency of the latter, but was interrupted in\nthe midst of his work by the political disturbances that were agitating\nhis country. The decree of the 13th of February, 1790, by which \u201call\norders and congregations, whether of men or women,\u201d were suppressed, did\nnot immediately overthrow the institute; but, although it suffered the\nprovisional existence of such associations as were charged with public\ninstruction or attendance on the sick, the respite was to be of short\nduration. The Brothers, however, notwithstanding the anxiety into which\nthey were thrown by the decree of the Constitutional Assembly, ventured\nto hope that their society would be spared on account of its known\ndevotedness to the interests of the people. Brother Agathon, moreover,\nwas not a man who would silently submit to unjust measures, and several\npetitions were addressed by him to the Assembly, in which he fearlessly\npleaded the cause of his institute, on the ground of its acknowledged\nutility among the very classes whose benefit the Assembly professed to\nhave so greatly at heart. The simple and conclusive reasoning of these\npetitions must have gained their cause with reason and justice; but\nreason and justice were alike dethroned in France. One member alone of\nthe Assembly did himself honor by representing the excellence of their\nteaching and the reality of their patriotism, but he spoke in vain; and\non the universal refusal of the Brothers to take the oath imposed by the\ncivil constitution on the members of any religious society, as well as on\nthose of the priesthood, the houses to which they belonged were summarily\nsuppressed. They were abused for not sending their pupils to attend the\nreligious ceremonies presided over by schismatic ministers; they were\naccused of storing arms in their houses to be used against the country;\nthey were charged with monopolizing and concealing victuals; but after\na visit of inspection at Melun the municipal officers were compelled to\nbear testimony to the disinterested probity of these pious teachers,\nand similar perquisitions invariably resulted in the confusion of their\ncalumniators.\n\nBut the Revolution continued its course. A decree passed on the 18th\nof August, 1792, suppressed all \u201csecular ecclesiastical corporations\u201d\nand lay associations, \u201csuch as that of the Christian Schools,\u201d it being\nalleged that \u201ca state truly free ought not to suffer the existence in its\nbosom of any corporation whatsoever, not even those which, being devoted\nto public instruction, have deserved well of the country.\u201d\n\nThe Reign of Terror had begun; the dungeons were filling, and the\nprison was but the threshold to the scaffold. The children of the\nvenerable De la Salle were not spared. Brother Solomon, secretary to\nthe superior-general, was martyred on the 2d of September for refusing\nto take the schismatic oath. Brother Abraham was on the very point of\nbeing guillotined when he was rescued by one of the National Guard. The\nBrothers of the house in the Rue de Notre Dame des Champs continued\nto keep the schools of S. Sulpice until the massacre of the Carmelite\nmonks. Several of the Brothers were put to death. The courageous words\nof Brother Martin before the revolutionary tribunal at Avignon have been\npreserved. \u201cI am a teacher devoted to the education of the children\nof the poor,\u201d he said to his judges; \u201cand if your protestations of\nattachment to the people are sincere; if your principles of fraternity\nare anything better than mere forms of speech, my functions not only\njustify me, but claim your thanks.\u201d Language like this ensured sentence\nof death. Besides, at that time they condemned; they did not judge.\n\nAfter eighteen months of imprisonment Brother Agathon was restored to\nliberty, and died in 1797, at Tours, leaving his institute dispersed; but\nconsoled by the last sacraments, which he received in secret.\n\nAmong the scattered members of a congregation too Christian not to be\npersecuted in those days we do not find one who did not remain faithful.\nMany of them, in the name and dress of civilians, continued to occupy\nthemselves in teaching, and filled the post of schoolmasters at Noyon,\nChartres, Laon, Fontainebleau, etc. From the municipal authorities of\nLaon they received a public testimonial of esteem; and in 1797, being\nimprisoned on the denunciation of a schismatic priest, the Brothers\nwere set at liberty by a grateful and avenging ebullition on the part\nof the mothers of families. Their exit from prison was a triumph, the\npopulation crowding to meet them and throwing flowers in their way until\nthey reached the school-house, in the court of which a banquet had been\nprepared, at which masters and scholars found themselves happily reunited.\n\nIn spite of the decree which had smitten their institute, the Brothers\nwere still sought after as teachers in purely civil conditions. Nothing\nhad replaced the orders and establishments which had been destroyed; no\ninstruction was provided for the young; and as the churches were still\nclosed and the pulpits silent, a night of ignorance was beginning to\nspread itself over the rising generation. On the 25th of August, 1792, a\nboy demanded of the National Assembly, for himself and his comrades, that\nthey should be \u201cinstructed in the principles of equality and the rights\nof man, instead of being preached to in the name of a so-called God.\u201d\n\nSuch men as Daunou, Desmoli\u00e8res, and Chaptal were deploring the state\nof public instruction in France, which during ten years had been a mere\nmixture of absurdities and frivolities, when Portalis dared to declare\nopenly that \u201creligion must be made the basis of education.\u201d\n\nThis was in 1802, about the time that the relations of France with the\nSovereign Pontiff were renewed by the Concordat, and the three consuls\nhad gone together in state to the metropolitan church of Notre Dame. By\nthe consular law of the 1st of May, 1802, on public instruction, the\nBrothers were authorized to resume their functions. The institute no\nlonger possessed any houses in France, but a few remained to it in Italy,\nand over these Pope Pius VI. had appointed, as vicar-general, Brother\nFrumentius, director of the house of San Salvatore at Rome.\n\nLyons was the first city in France where the members of the scattered\ncongregation began to reassemble; Paris was the next; then St. Germain\nen Laye, Toulouse, Valence, Soissons, and Rheims. The Brothers at\nLyons--namely, Brother Frumentius and three companions--received, in\n1805, a memorable visit. Pope Pius VII., in quitting France, after having\ncrowned at Notre Dame the emperor by whom, three years later, he himself\nwas to be discrowned, repaired, accompanied by three cardinals, to the\nBrothers of the Christian Schools. He blessed the restored chapel and the\nreviving institute, his fatherly words of encouragement being a pledge\nand promise of its beneficent prosperity.\n\nAs it was of importance that the dispersed members should be made aware\nof the reorganization of their society, an earnest and affectionate\ncircular-letter was addressed to them by Cardinal Fesch, archbishop of\nLyons, inviting them to repair to Brother Frumentius to be employed\naccording to the rule of their congregation, towards which he at the same\ntime assured them of the emperor\u2019s good-will.\n\nThe decree for the organization of the University, issued on the 17th\nof March, 1808, restored to the institute a legal existence, together\nwith all the civil rights attached to establishments of public utility.\nIn these statutes it is stated that the Brothers form a society for\ngratuitously affording to children a Christian education; that this\nsociety is ruled by a superior-general, aided by a certain number\nof assistants; that the superior is elected for life by the General\nChapter or by a special commission; and that the superior nominates the\ndirectors, and also the visitors, whose duty it is to watch over the\nregularity of the masters and the efficient management of the schools.\n\nThe Brothers had a powerful friend in M. Emery, the Superior of S.\nSulpice, a man of high character and sound judgment, and who was held\nin great esteem by the emperor, as well as by every one with whom he\nhad anything to do. Napoleon, particularly, appreciating the excellent\norganization of the society, recommended \u201cthe Brothers of De la Salle in\npreference to any other teachers.\u201d\n\nWe now come to the special subject of our memoir.\n\nAmong the dispersed members of the institute who first responded to\nthe invitation of Cardinal Fesch were two brothers of the name of\nGalet, whose memory is especially connected with Brother Philip. On the\nsuppression of the house at Marseilles they sought shelter from the\nviolence of the Revolution in the retired hamlet of Ch\u00e2teaurange (Haute\nLoire), where they kept a school. On receiving the cardinal\u2019s circular\nthe elder brother announced to the pupils that he had been a Brother of\nthe Christian Schools, until compelled to return to secular life by the\nsuppression of his institute; but learning that this was re-established,\nhe was about to depart at once to Lyons, there to resume his place in it,\nadding that, if any of them should desire to enter there, he would do\nall in his power to obtain their admission and to help them to become\naccustomed to the change of life.\n\nAmongst those who availed themselves of this invitation, and who,\nthree years later (in 1811), presented himself to be received into the\nnovitiate, was Mathieu Bransiet, born on the 1st of November, 1792, at\nthe hamlet of Gachat, in the Commune of Apinac (Loire). Pierre Bransiet,\nhis father, was a mason; the house in which he lived, with a portion\nof land around it, which he cultivated, constituting all his worldly\npossessions. Like his wife (whose maiden name was Marie-Anne Varagnat),\nhe was a faithful Christian, and during the revolutionary persecution\nhabitually afforded refuge to the proscribed priests. It was the custom\nof the little family to assemble at a very early hour of the morning in a\ncorner of the barn, where, on a poor table behind a wall or barricade of\nhay and straw, the Holy Sacrifice was offered up, as in the past ages of\npaganism, and as under Protestant rule, whether in the British Isles not\nso many generations ago, or in Switzerland at the very time at which we\nwrite; some trusty person meanwhile keeping watch without, in readiness\nto give timely warning in case of need. Nor did Pierre Bransiet confine\nhimself to the exercise of this perilous but blessed hospitality; many a\ntime did he accompany the priests by night in their visits to the sick\nand dying, and bearing with them the sacred Viaticum after the hidden\nmanner of the proscribed.\n\nAmid scenes and impressions such as these the young Bransiet passed\nhis childhood, learning the mysteries of the faith from an \u201cabolished\u201d\ncatechism; kneeling before the crucifix, which was hated and trampled\nunder foot in those godless days; and worshipping when those who prayed\nmust hide themselves to pray. Thus a deeply serious tone became, as it\nwere, the keynote of his soul, which harmonized with all that was earnest\nand austere. Even as an old man he never spoke without deep feeling of\nhis early years, when he only knew religion as a poor exile and outcast\non the earth. The simple and hardy habits of his cottage-home, his own\nearly training in labor, self-denial, and respectful obedience, the\nChristian teaching of his mother and elder sister (now a religious at\nPuy), all helped to form his character and mould his future life. He was\nthe most diligent of the young scholars of Ch\u00e2teaurange, which is half a\nleague distant from Gachat, and made his first communion in the church of\nApinac, when the Church of France had issued from her catacombs, and the\nCatholic worship was again allowed. As a child Mathieu was remarkable for\nhis never-failing kindness and affectionateness towards his brothers and\nsisters, for the tenderness of his conscience, and for his jealousy for\nthe honor of God, which would cause him to burst into tears if he saw any\none do what he knew would offend him.\n\nMathieu was seventeen years of age when, with the full consent of his\nparents, he entered the novitiate at Lyons. He had six brothers, one of\nwhom followed his example, and is at the present time worthily fulfilling\nthe office of visitor to the Christian Schools of Clermont-Ferrand.\nBoniface was the name by which the young novice was at first called; but\nas this was soon afterwards exchanged for that of Philip, we shall always\nso designate him.\n\nHis exemplary assiduity and piety, as well as his rare qualifications as\na teacher, quickly drew attention to him, and on account of his skill in\nmathematics he was appointed professor in a school of coast navigation\nat Auray in the Morbihan, where he was very successful. While here he\nwrote a treatise on the subject of his instructions, which was his first\nattempt in the special kind of writing in which he afterwards so greatly\nexcelled. M. Deshayes, the cur\u00e9 of Auray, and a man of great discernment,\nwas so much struck by his practical wisdom and good sense that he said\nto the Brother director, \u201cSee if Brother Boniface is not one day the\nsuperior of your congregation!\u201d\n\nIt was at Auray, in 1812, that he made his first vows, and there he\nremained until 1816. Of the boys who during this time were under his\ncare, no less than forty afterwards entered the sacerdotal or the\nmonastic life. From Auray he was sent to Rethel as director, and from\nthence, in 1818, to fill the same office at Rheims, the nursery of his\norder, and afterwards at Metz. In 1823 the superior-general, Brother\nWilliam of Jesus--who was seventy-five years old, and had been in\nthe congregation from the time he was fifteen--appointed him to the\nresponsible post of director of S. Nicolas des Champs at Paris, as well\nas visitor of several other houses in the provinces and in the capital.\nIn 1826 he published a book entitled _Practical Geometry applied to\nLinear Design_,[106] which is regarded by competent judges as the best\nwork of the kind in France. He continued director at Paris during the\neight remaining years of Brother William\u2019s life, which ended a little\nbefore the Revolution of July, 1830. On the succession of Brother\nAnaclete as superior-general Brother Philip was elected one of the four\nassistants of the General Chapter, and thus found himself associated with\nthe general government of the congregation; but the higher he was raised\nin the responsible offices of his order, the more apparent became his\ngood sense and sound understanding--qualifications of especial value amid\nthe troubles of that stormy time.\n\nThe opening of evening classes for working-men is due to Brother Philip,\nwho first commenced them in Paris, at S. Nicolas des Champs, and at Gros\nCaillou, extending them, with marked encouragement from the Minister of\nPublic Instruction, M. Guizot, to other quarters of the city. The law of\n1833, by establishing normal schools for primary instruction, furnished a\ntest as well as a rivalry to the schools of the Brothers; but the latter\nshowed themselves equal to the emergency, supplementing their course of\ninstruction by additional subjects, and taking all necessary measures for\ncarrying on their work in the most efficient manner.\n\nTheir novitiates were the models of the normal primary schools; but in\ncomparing the vast difference of expense between the one and the other it\nis easy to perceive on which side self-denial and prudent administration\nare to be found. A normal school like the one at Versailles costs more\nthan 60,000 francs, or 12,000 dollars, yearly; and that of Paris more\nthan 100,000 francs, or 20,000 dollars; while the Brothers, for the\ntraining of their masters, receive nothing from the state; and these\nyoung masters, formed with the aid of small resources, become none the\nless admirable teachers, having moreover in their favor the double grace\nof devotedness and a special vocation.\n\nUnder the name of Louis Constantin, Brother Anaclete began the\npublication of works of instruction which was afterwards so efficiently\ncontinued by Brother Philip. The latter gave particular attention to\nthe formation of a preparatory novitiate called _le petit noviciat_,\nwhich is not a novitiate, properly so called, but a preliminary trial of\nvocations, similar to that of the _Petit S\u00e9minaire_. Should the young\nmembers persevere, their education prepares them for teaching; and if\ntheir vocation is found to be elsewhere, this time of study will, all the\nsame, be of great advantage to them, whatever may be their future.\n\nThe little novices were particular favorites of Brother Philip, who took\ndelight not only in instructing them himself in both sacred and secular\nknowledge, but watched over them with a sort of maternal affection, and\nwas often seen carrying into their cells warm socks or any other article\nof apparel of which he had discovered the need.\n\nOn the death of Brother Anaclete, in 1838, Brother Philip was unanimously\nelected superior by the General Chapter, on the 21st of November. After\nthe election the chapter, contrary to its wont, abstained from passing\nany decree, \u201cleaving to the enlightened zeal of the much-honored superior\nthe care of maintaining in the Brothers the spirit of fervor.\u201d\n\nThe Abb\u00e9 de la Salle had recommended the practice of mortification,\nsilence, recollection, contempt for earthly things and for the praise\nof man, humility, and prayer; and the venerable founder has continued\nto speak in the persons of the successive superiors of his institute.\nWe have not space here to give quotations from the circulars issued\nby Brother Philip during the thirty-five years of his government, but\nthey must be read before a just appreciation can be had of all that a\n\u201cChristian Brother\u201d is required to be, and also of the heart and mind of\nthe writer, who never spoke of himself, but whose daily life and example\nwere his best eloquence. He always presided over the annual retreats,\ncommencing by that of the community in Paris. One of the Brothers, in\nspeaking of these, said: \u201cIn listening to him I always felt that we had a\nsaint for our father.\u201d\n\nA rule had been made by the chapter of 1787 that the Brother assistants\nshould cause the portrait of the superior-general to be taken with the\nyear of his election. It was with the greatest reluctance, and only\nfrom a spirit of obedience, as well as on account of the insistence\nof the Brother assistants, that Brother Philip suffered this rule to\nbe observed in his case. Horace Vernet had the highest esteem for the\nsuperior-general, and told the Brothers who went to request him to take\nthe portrait that he would willingly give them the benefit of his art in\nreturn for the benefit of their prayers. Brother Philip sat to him for an\nhour, and the painting so much admired in the Exhibition of 1845 was the\nresult. Later on the visits of Brother Philip were a much-valued source\nof help and consolation to the great painter during his last illness.\n\nOur sketch would be incomplete were we to leave unnoticed the daily life\nof the Brothers of the Christian Schools, which exhibits their profession\nput into practice.\n\nThe Brothers rise at half-past four; read the _Imitation_ until a\nquarter to five, followed by prayer and meditation until Mass, at\nsix, after which they attend to official work until breakfast, at a\nquarter-past seven; at half-past seven the rosary is said, and the\nclasses commence at eight; catechism at eleven, examination at half-past;\nat a quarter to twelve dinner, after which is a short recreation. At\none o\u2019clock prayers and rosary; classes recommence at half-past one.\nOfficial work at five; at half-past five preparation of the catechism;\nspiritual reading at six; at half-past six meditation; at seven supper\nand recreation; at half-past eight evening prayers; at nine the Brothers\nretire to bed; and at a quarter-past nine the lights are extinguished,\nand there is perfect silence.\n\nAfter having been for twenty-five years established in the Rue du\nFaubourg St. Martin the Brothers had to make way for the building of the\nStation of the Eastern Railway (Gare de l\u2019Est), and after long search\nfound a suitable house in the Rue Plumet, now Rue Oudinot, which they\npurchased, and of which they took possession, as the mother-house of the\ninstitute, in the early part of 1847.\n\nOn entering this house it is at once evident that rule and order\npreside there. All the employments, even to the post of _conci\u00e8rge_, or\ndoor-keeper, are carried on by the Brothers, each one of whom is engaged\nin his appointed duty. The first court, called the _Procure_, presents a\ncertain amount of movement and activity from its relations with the world\noutside. The second court, which is the place for recreations, and which\nleads into the interior, is much more spacious and planted with trees. It\nwas in these alleys that Brother Philip was accustomed to walk during\nhis few moments of repose, conversing with one of the Brothers or readily\nlistening to any of the youngest little novices who might address him.\n\nThe _Salle du R\u00e9gime_, or Chamber of Government, is a marvel in the\nperfection of its arrangements. The superior-general is there at his\npost, the assistants also; the place of each occupying but a small space\nand on the same line. Each has his straw-seated chair, his bureau, and\npapers; the chair of the superior differing in no way from the rest.\nOn each bureau is a small case, marked with its ticket, indicating the\ncountries placed under the particular direction of the Brother assistant\nto whom it belongs. There are to be found all the countries to which\nthe schools of the institute have been extended, from the cities of\nFrance and of Europe to the most distant regions of the habitable globe.\nLittle cards in little drawers represent the immensity of the work.\nEverything is ruled, marked, classified, in such a manner as to take\nup the smallest amount of space possible; as if in all things these\nservants of God endeavored to occupy no more room in this world than was\nabsolutely necessary. \u201cWe have seen,\u201d writes M. Poujoulat, \u201cin the _Salle\ndu R\u00e9gime_, the place which had been occupied by Brother Philip; his\nstraw-seated chair and simple bureau, upon which stood a small image of\nthe Blessed Virgin, for which he had a particular affection, and one of\nS. Peter, given to him at Rome. From this unpretending throne he governed\nall the houses of his order in France, Belgium, Italy, Asia, and the New\nWorld, and hither letters daily reached him from all countries. He wrote\nmuch; and his letters had the brevity and precision of one accustomed\nto command. The secretariate occupies ten Brothers, and, notwithstanding\nits variety and extent, nothing is complicated or irregular in this\nwell-ordered administration.\n\n\u201cWe visited, as we should visit a sanctuary, the cell of Brother\nPhilip, and there saw his hard bed and deal bedstead, over which hung\nhis crucifix.\u2026 A few small prints on the walls were the only luxury he\nallowed himself.\u2026 Some class-books ranged on shelves, a chair, a bureau,\nand a cupboard (the latter still containing the few articles of apparel\nwhich he had worn), \u2026 compose the whole of the furniture. How often the\nhours which he so needed (physically) to have passed in sleep had Brother\nPhilip spent at this desk or kneeling before his crucifix, laying his\ncares and responsibilities before God, to whom, in this same little\nchamber, when the long day\u2019s toil was ended, he offered up his soul!\u201d\n\nIn another room, that of the venerable Brother Calixtus, may be seen\nthe documents relating to the beatification of the Abb\u00e9 de la Salle,\nbearing a seal impressed with the device of the congregation--_Signum\nFidei_. Besides thirty-five autograph letters of the founder and the form\nof profession of the members, there are here the bulls of approbation\naccorded by Pope Benedict XIII. in 1725, and the letters-patent granted\nthe previous year by Louis XV. In a room called the Chamber of Relics are\npreserved various sacred vestments and other objects which had belonged\nto the venerable De la Salle. The chapel is at present a temporary\nconstruction.\n\nThe mother-house comprises the two novitiates and a normal school\nappropriated solely to the perfecting of the younger masters. It is from\nthe little novices that the Brothers select the children of the choir.\nTo see these twenty-five or thirty little fellows on great festivals, in\nalb and red cassock, swinging censers or scattering flowers before the\nBlessed Sacrament, amid the rich harmonies of the organ and the church\u2019s\nsacred chant, was Brother Philip\u2019s especial delight; he seemed to see in\nthem, as it were, a little battalion of angels offering their innocent\nhomage to the hidden God.\n\nIf order forms one part of the permanent spirit of the institute, so\nalso does the practice of poverty; but it is _holy_ poverty, tranquil\nand cheerful. Self-denial is the foundation of all that is seen there,\nbut so also are propriety and suitability. The life of the Brothers is\naustere, but by no means gloomy; on the contrary, one of their prevailing\ncharacteristics is a cheerful equanimity, which seems never to forsake\nthem. Nothing useless is permitted in any of the houses. \u201cWe must not,\u201d\nwrote Brother Agathon in 1787, \u201callow anything which may habitually or\nwithout good reason turn aside the Brothers from the exercises of the\ncommunity or trouble their tranquillity; such things, for instance, as\nfancy dogs, birds, the culture of flowers, shrubs, or curious plants.\u201d\nAnd these regulations have been faithfully observed.\n\nThis the mother-house, in the Rue Oudinot, is the centre of government\nto the numerous establishments of the institute spread over the earth;\nit is, in fact, their little capital, from whence the superior-general\nand his assistants, like the monarch and parliament of a constitutional\nkingdom, exercise a wise and beneficent dominion.\n\nThe Revolution of February, 1848, notwithstanding the general\ndisorganization of which it was the cause, did not prejudicially affect\nthe work of the Brothers of the Christian Schools. The moderate spirit\nof a large majority of the constituency was in their favor, and the\ntriumph of what was styled the \u201cright of association\u201d was of benefit to\nthe religious orders. And, besides this, men high in office acknowledged\nthe small consideration given to the religious element in the primary\ninstruction organized by the law to have occasioned the moral devastation\nof which they had been the sorrowful witnesses.\n\nThis state of opinion, by producing an increased respect for the Brothers\nand appreciation of their work, was very favorable to the institute of De\nla Salle. In 1849 the superior-general was requested to take part in an\nextra-parliamentary commission on the subject of public instruction and\nliberty of teaching. His extensive and practical knowledge made a great\nimpression on his fellow-commissioners. Naturally modest and retiring, he\nwas never one of the most forward to speak, but the most listened to of\nany; his observations being so conclusive and to the point as invariably\nto decide the ultimate resolution of a question; and answers which\nothers were painfully seeking he found at once in the store-house of his\nlong experience. That portion of the law of March 15, 1850, relating to\nprimary instruction, bears the impress of these discussions.\n\nThe epoch of the Second Empire was a time of difficulty for the\nBrothers. The new government, which had begun by wishing to decorate\nBrother Philip--who was always rebellious against seductions of\nthis nature--raised against his institute the question of scholar\nremuneration, alleging that it owed its success merely to its rule of\nteaching gratuitously, to the prejudice of the schools of the state,\nand requiring the municipality of every place where the Brothers were\nestablished to insist on their adoption of the remunerative system. These\ndifficulties, which had begun under the ministry of M. Fortoul, became\nmore serious under that of M. Rouland.\n\nNow, it was one of the fundamental rules of the institute that the\nBrothers should receive no remuneration whatever in return for their\ninstructions. Brother Philip, therefore, in the name of the statutes of\nhis order, resolutely resisted their infringement. To punish him for so\ndoing the annual sum of eight thousand four hundred francs, which had\nbeen granted to the institute under the ministry of M. Guizot for the\ngeneral expenses of administration, was suppressed, many of the houses\nwere closed, and forty more threatened with the same fate.\n\nAt last, after an anxious struggle of seven years\u2019 duration, it was\ndecided by the General Chapter, assembled in 1861, that, to avoid worse\nevils and save the institute from destruction, a partial concession\nshould be made. Payments were allowed where the government insisted, but\nit was expressly stipulated that these payments would be the property of\nthe municipal council, the Brothers themselves having nothing whatever to\ndo with them.\n\nThis concession, which had only been forced from him by a hard necessity,\nwas a great vexation to Brother Philip, who, however, consoled himself\nwith the thought that this moral oppression would only be of temporary\nduration. Nor was he mistaken. For twenty years past not only has the\ngratuitous system not been attacked, but the very men who opposed it\nin the case of the Brothers have themselves insisted on its general\nadoption, in their endeavors to force upon the whole of France a primary\ninstruction without religion.\n\nThe ministry of M. Rouland, being particularly jealous of Brother Philip\nas head of a religious congregation, had other trials in store for him,\ntaking out of his hands the right of appointing masters, in order that\nit might, through the prefects, place lay teachers of its own selection\nin places where the people themselves had requested that their children\nshould be taught by the Brothers of the Christian Schools. The measures\ntaken to attain this end were, however, only partially successful.\n\nIn 1862 a curious complaint was made against those who had for so long\nbeen called _Ignorantins_, accusing them of teaching too many things and\noverstepping the limits allowed by Article 23 of the law of 1850.[107]\n\nWhen at Dijon, in 1862, Brother Pol-de-L\u00e9on made his request to\nbe instituted as director of the _pensionnat_, the administration\nrefused to grant it, on the ground that the title of \u201celementary\nschool\u201d taken by the said _pensionnat_ was in manifest contradiction\nto the advanced instruction given there, and which included algebra,\ngeometry, trigonometry, French literature, cosmography, physics,\nchemistry, mechanics, English, and German. The Brothers, thus accused\nof distributing too much learning, replied that, if the law of 1850 did\nnot mention these subjects of instruction, neither did it prohibit them;\nthey consented, however, to withdraw a portion from this programme. The\npresident of the provincial council, M. Leffemberg, was merciful, and\nallowed some of the additions, among which were English and German, to\nremain.\n\nSubsequent arrangements have been made, by which a regular course of\nsecondary or higher instruction has been organized by the Brothers. This\nis admirably carried on in their immense establishment at Passy (amongst\nother places), and its normal school is at Cluny; and no one now disputes\nwith the institute the honor of having been the originator of the special\ncourse of secondary instruction which has been found to answer so\nremarkably in France.\n\nOne of the most serious anxieties of Brother Philip under the Second\nEmpire arose in 1866 on the subject of dispensation from military\nservice. Since their reorganization the Brothers of the Christian Schools\nhad been exempted from serving in the army, on account of their being\nalready engaged in another form of service for the public benefit,\nand on condition of their binding themselves for a period of not less\nthan ten years to the public instruction. A circular of M. Duruy, by\nchanging the terms of the law, deprived the Brothers of their exemption,\nwhilst in that very same month of February M. le Mar\u00e9chal Randon, in\naddressing general instructions to the marshals of military divisions in\nthe provinces, gave distinct orders that the Brothers of the Christian\nSchools should not be required to serve, on account of the occupation in\nwhich they were already engaged; thus, in two contradictory circulars\non the same question, the interpretation of the Minister of Public\nInstruction was unfavorable to the education of the people; the contrary\nbeing the case with that of the Minister of War.\n\nWe have not space to give the particulars of the long struggle that\nwas carried on upon this question, and in which Cardinals Matthieu and\nBonnechose energetically took part with the Brothers; the Archbishop of\nRennes and the Bishop of Ajaccio also petitioning the senate on their\nbehalf. But in vain. To the great anguish of Brother Philip, the senate\nvoted according to the good pleasure of M. Duruy. The superior-general\nleft no means untried to avert the threatened conscription of the young\nBrothers; he petitioned, he wrote, he pleaded, with an energy and\nperseverance that nothing could daunt, until the law, passed on the\n1st of February, 1868, relieved him from this pressing anxiety. He had\nunconsciously won for himself so high an opinion in the country that his\nauthority fought, as it were, for his widespread family.\n\nEver since the Revolution of 1848 a great clamor has been raised in\nFrance about the moral elevation of the laboring classes; but while\nthe innovators who believe only in themselves have been talking, the\nChristian Brothers have been working. We have already mentioned the\nclasses for adults established by the predecessor of Brother Philip.\nThese, and especially the evening classes, were made by the latter the\nobjects of his especial attention. He arranged that linear drawing\nshould in these occupy a considerable place; thus there is scarcely a\nplace of any importance in France in which courses of lessons in drawing\ndo not form a part of the popular instruction, and, with the exception\nof a few large towns which already possessed a school of design, nearly\nall the working population of the country has, up to the present time,\ngained its knowledge of the art in the classes directed by the Brothers.\nProof of this fact is yearly afforded in the \u201cExhibition of the Fine Arts\napplied to Practical Industries,\u201d which, since 1860, has been annually\nopened at Paris, and in which the productions of their schools are\nremarkable among the rest for their excellence, as well as their number.\nThe gold medal as well as the high praise awarded them by the jury of the\nInternational Exhibition in 1867 testified to the thoroughness of the\nmanner in which the pupils of the Christian Brothers are taught.\n\nOne of the gods worshipped by the XIXth century is \u201cutility,\u201d and to\nsuch an extent by some of its votaries that one of them, some years ago,\nproposed to the Pacha of Egypt to demolish the pyramids, on the ground\nthat they were \u201cuseless.\u201d This reproach cannot certainly be applied to\nthe Brothers of the Christian Schools. All their arrangements, their\ninstructions, their daily life, have the stamp of utility, and that of\nthe highest social order.\n\nAlthough our space does not permit us to speak of the works of the\nBrothers in detail, their variety answering, as it does, to all the needs\nof the people, yet a few words must be given to that of S. Nicolas, for\nthe education of young boys of the working-classes.\n\nTowards the close of the Restoration, in 1827, M. de Bervanger, a priest,\ncollected seven poor orphan children, whom he placed under the care of\nan honest workman in the Rue des Anglaises (Faubourg St. Marceau), who\nemployed them in his workshop, his wife assisting him in taking charge\nof them. This was the commencement of the work of S. Nicolas. In a few\nmonths the little lodging was too small for its increasing number of\ninmates, and, assistance having been sent, a house was taken in the Rue\nde Vaugirard, where the boys were taught various trades and manufactures,\nbut still under a certain amount of difficulty, a sum of seven or eight\nthousand francs being pressingly required. It was at this time that M.\nde Bervanger became acquainted with Count Victor de Noailles, who at\nonce supplied the sum, and from that time took a great and increasing\ninterest in the establishment, of which he afterwards became the head. On\nthe breaking out of the revolution of 1830 he saved it by establishing\nhimself there under the title of director; M. de Bervanger, for the\nsake of prudence, having only that of almoner. The two friends, being\ntogether at Rome in the winter of 1834-5, were warmly encouraged in their\nundertaking by Pope Benedict XIII., who desired Count Victor to remain at\nits head. Soon afterwards a purchase of the house was effected, and in\nthis house of S. Nicolas the count died in the following year. From that\ntime M. de Bervanger took the sole direction, and the work prospered in\nspite of every opposition. To meet its increased requirements he bought\nthe Ch\u00e2teau of Issy, and Mgr. Affre, Archbishop of Paris, announced\nhimself the protector of what he declared to be \u201cthe most excellent work\nin his diocese.\u201d The republic of 1848 was rather profitable to it than\notherwise. Former pupils of the house, enrolled in the Garde Mobile,\ndid their duty so bravely in quelling the terrible insurrection of June\nthat to fifteen of their number the Cross of Honor was awarded, proving\nthat in those days of violence the _gamin de Paris_, the foundation or\nmaterial of the work of S. Nicolas, could be a hero.\n\nThis work, owing to the unbounded energy and devotion of its reverend\ndirector, had immensely increased in efficiency and extent. More than\neleven hundred children were here receiving the elementary instruction,\nreligious and professional, of which no other model existed. But\nalthough his courage never failed, his strength declined, and, to save\nthe work, he gave it up, in 1858, into the hands of the Archbishop of\nParis, Cardinal Morlot. A document exists which proves it to have been\nnecessary to resist the will of the holy priest, in order that, after\nhaving given up the value of about a million and a half of francs,\nwithout asking either board or lodging, he should not be left utterly\nwithout resources. The archbishop, after treating with the members of the\ncouncil of administration and obtaining the consent of Brother Philip,\nwho threw himself heartily into the work, placed S. Nicolas in the hands\nof the Brothers of the Christian Schools, who for the last fifteen years\nhave admirably fulfilled this additional responsibility then confided\nto them. At the time of their installation the Brothers appointed to S.\nNicolas were seventy in number; they have now increased to a hundred\nand thirty, for the direction of the three houses, one of which is at\nParis, another at Issy, and the third at Igny. The house in the Rue\nVaugirard alone contains about a thousand boys, who are there taught\nvarious trades; there are carpenters, cabinet-makers, carvers, opticians,\nwatchmakers, designers of patterns for different manufactures, etc., etc.\nAt the end of their apprenticeship these lads can earn six, seven, or\neven eight francs a day. The most skilful enter the schools of _Arts et\nM\u00e9tiers_--arts and trades--the most brilliant efforts being rewarded by\nthe rank of civil engineer.\n\nThe large and fertile garden of Issy is a school of horticulture, and at\nIgny the boys are taught field-labor and farming, as well as gardening;\nthe fruits and vegetables of Igny forming a valuable resource for the\nhouse in the Rue Vaugirard, at Paris. The Sisters of the Christian\nSchools have charge of the laundry and needle-work of the three\nestablishments. Once every month two members of the council inspect these\nschools to the minutest details--the classes, the workshops, the gardens,\nthe house arrangements, the neatness of the books, etc.--and interrogate\nthe children.\n\nInstrumental as well as vocal music is taught at S. Nicolas as a\nprofessional art. A few years ago might be seen on the road from Issy\nto Paris two battalions of youths who passed each other on the way, the\none that of the \u201clittle ones,\u201d clad in blouses of black woollen; the\nother the pupils and apprentices of the Rue Vaugirard, in dark gray, each\nwith its band of music. The passers-by called them \u201cthe regiments of S.\nNicolas.\u201d In the French expedition into China the band of the flag-ship\nwas chiefly composed of former pupils of these establishments, who,\nfaithful to their old traditions, had with them the banner of their\npatron saint, which was duly displayed on grand occasions, to the great\nsatisfaction of the admiral commanding the expedition.\n\nThe idea of the celebrated Dr. Branchet, of placing blind and also deaf\nand dumb children in the primary schools of the Brothers, has been\nattended with the happiest results. These children enter at the same age\nas those who can speak and see, and, like them, remain until they have\nmade their first Communion, and leave just at the period when they can be\nreceived into special institutions, where they are kept for eight years\nlonger. The rapid improvement in these poor children, who are under the\ncare of the Brothers, and of the Sisters of S. Vincent de Paul and of S.\nMarie, is truly wonderful. Mistrust, timidity, and reserve speedily give\nplace to cheerfulness, confidence, and affection; the habitual contact\nwith children who can see and hear being a great assistance to the\ndevelopment of their intelligence and capabilities.\n\nIn 1841 the Minister of the Interior, acting by desire of the local\nauthorities, requested that the Brothers should be sent to certain\nof the great central prisons of France. The first essay was made at\nN\u00eemes, where three Brothers were placed over that portion of the prison\nappropriated to the younger offenders, in whom so great a change for the\nbetter soon became apparent that a general desire arose that all the\nprisoners, twelve hundred in number, should be put under their charge.\nBrother Philip, after taking the matter into careful consideration,\ngave his consent, to the great joy of the prefect of N\u00eemes; and in\nthe same year, 1841, the rough keepers were replaced by a detachment\nof thirty-seven Brothers of the Christian Schools. In the course of\ntwo months the new organization had effected a complete change in the\nprison, not only as regarded the docility and general improvement of the\nprisoners, but their health also, from the alterations made by the new\nmanagers in the sanitary arrangements of the building. Brother Facile,\na man of great intelligence, firmness, and good sense, was the director\nof the Brothers, who had various trials to undergo in the exercise of\ntheir present functions. In spite of various difficulties, most of which\nwere occasioned by the conduct of lay officials, the Brothers remained\nat N\u00eemes until 1848, when the revolution cut short their work, not only\nthere, but also at Fontevrault (where they had the charge of fourteen\nhundred prisoners), at Aniane, and at M\u00e9lun.\n\nThe institute of the Brothers of the Christian Schools, being of French\norigin, naturally developed itself first in France. At the beginning\nof 1874 it numbered nine hundred and forty-five establishments in that\ncountry, more than eight thousand Brothers, and above three hundred and\ntwelve thousand pupils. From the commencement of the congregation it has\nhad a house at Rome; and at Turin their schools are attended by more than\nthree thousand five hundred children. They easily took root in Catholic\nBelgium, where their pupils are above fifteen thousand in number. They\nare in England, Austria, Prussia, and Switzerland. Passing out of Europe,\nwe find them honored and encouraged in the little republic of Ecuador,\nwhere they were first planted in 1863, under Brother Albanus, a man of\ngreat prudence as well as of activity and zeal. Two years later four\nBrothers embarked for Cochin-China, the Admiral of La Grandi\u00e8re having\nrequested Brother Philip to send them to teach the children of the new\nFrench colony. Their first house there was at Sa\u00efgon, to which others\nwere added in different parts of the country, as more Brothers arrived.\nThey have establishments in Madagascar, the Seychelles, the East Indies,\nand the Isle of Mauritius, and have been in the Ile de la R\u00e9union\never since 1816. They are at Tunis, where they teach the children in\nItalian (that language being the one most usually spoken there); and in\nAlgiers, where for years the bishop, Mgr. Dupuch, had been begging that\nthey might be sent. Brother Philip was both ready and willing, but the\ndelays and difficulties raised by the French Minister of War, would not\nallow him to accede to the request until 1852, after the death of M.\nDupuch, who had begun the negotiation ten years before. When, in 1870,\ncontrary to the entreaties of the bishop, Mgr. de Lavigerie, and the\nprotest of the inhabitants of the place, the Brothers were forced out of\ntheir schools--their only offence being that they were Christian--they\nopened free schools, independent of any government arrangement, and had\nthem filled at once by three thousand of their former pupils; the same\nthing being done at other towns with the same result. A change for the\nbetter took place in the ideas of the home government in 1871, and at\nthe present time, thanks to the rule of Marshal MacMahon, the Christian\nSchools of Algiers have been restored to their rights.\n\nIn concert with the Lazarists the Brothers opened schools at Smyrna in\n1841, and soon afterwards at Constantinople, with the authorization of\nthe government. They are settled also at Alexandria under the protection\nof the bishop, and under that of the vicar-apostolic at Cairo, where they\nhave received marked proofs of interest from the Viceroy of Egypt.\n\nBut it is not of the children of the Old World only that the Brothers\nhave so largely taken possession; the spirit of Christianity is a spirit\nof conquest, and the missionary, the Sister of Charity, and the Christian\nBrother are of the conquering race.\n\nThe infant foundations of the latter have a particular interest in\nthe vast American continent, where either all is comparatively of\nyesterday, or else the vast solitudes of ages still await the footstep\nof civilization, or even of man. Religious orders prosper in this\nland; and the children of La Salle first settled in Canada in 1837, at\nthe earnest invitation of M. Quiblier, Superior of the Seminary of S.\nSulpice at Montreal, and of Mgr. Lartique, the bishop of that city.\nFour Brothers of the Christian Schools were sent by the packet-boat\n_Louis Philippe_, which sailed on the 10th of October in that year,\nreaching New York on the 13th of November. The _cur\u00e9s_ of S. Sulpice at\nParis were the earliest supporters of the venerable De la Salle; and\nit is interesting to notice, at a distance of two centuries and on the\nother side of the Atlantic, the sons of the same house faithful to the\nsame traditions. The work spread rapidly in Montreal, where in a short\ntime twenty-five Brothers were occupied in teaching eighteen hundred\nchildren. Four of their pupils of this city, who had become postulants,\ntook the habit on All Saints\u2019 Day, 1840. The same year brought them a\nvisit from the Governor-General of Canada, Lord Sydenham, who, after\nentering with interest into the details of their work, gave them the\ngreatest encouragement. In the course of the following year they held\ntheir classes in presence of the bishops of Montreal, Quebec, Kingston,\nand Boston, numerously accompanied by their clergy, and received the\ncongratulations and benediction of the prelates. They opened a school\nat Quebec in 1843, and later, on the invitation of the Archbishop of\nBaltimore, Brother Aidant went to found one also in that city. It was he\nwho was authorized by Brother Philip, in 1847, to go to Paris in order to\ngive an account of the work which had been carried on in America during\nthe previous ten years, and who returned thither, accompanied by five\nmore Brothers.\n\nWhen, in 1848, the members of the institute were withdrawn from the\ncentral prisons of France, their superior felt that the energetic Brother\nFacile would be an invaluable superintendent of the Christian Schools\nin the New World. Brother Aidant had done great things during the\neleven years that he had occupied the post of director and visitor of\nthe province of Canada and of the United States. Five principal houses,\nemploying fifty Brothers, had been established there--namely, those of\nMontreal, Quebec, Three Rivers, Baltimore, and New York; but the work\nreceived a new and extensive development during the twelve years of the\ndirectorship of Brother Facile, who, when summoned to France by Brother\nPhilip in 1861, left behind him 78 schools, 24,532 pupils, 368 Brothers,\nand 74 novices; and this wonderful increase has subsequently continued.\n\nIn 1863 Brother Philip considered it advisable to divide North America\ninto two provinces, namely, those of Canada and the United States;\nBrother Ambrose, director of the schools of St. Louis, Missouri, being\nnamed visitor of the province of the United States, in residence at New\nYork; and Brother Liguori, of Moulins, in residence at Montreal, visitor\nof the province of Canada.\n\nThe Brothers of the Christian Schools in America are recruited not only\nfrom France, but from all the nationalities of the country. Among them\nare Franco-Canadians, Anglo-Americans, Irish, Belgians, and Germans.\nThe visit of Lord Young, the Governor-General of Canada, in 1869, to\ntheir principal school in Montreal, was a sort of official recognition\nof their teaching on the part of Great Britain. He praised their work\nas being the \u201ctype and model of a good education.\u201d Amongst those who\nwere presented to him, the governor-general saw with particular interest\nBrother Adelbertus, the only surviving one of the four who were sent to\nCanada in 1837. They now have schools in all the six provinces of Canada,\nand since 1869 have been established also at Charlottetown, the capital\nof Prince Edward\u2019s Island. A Protestant writer who visited their schools\nat Halifax, in giving an account of what he had seen, stated that he was\ngreatly struck by \u201cthe perfect discipline of the pupils, their silence,\ntheir prompt obedience and great assiduity, their neatness, and the good\nexpression of their countenances, whether Catholic or Protestant.\u201d He\ndid not take offence at the short prayer said at the striking of every\nhour. \u201cEach child,\u201d he observes, \u201ccan repeat to himself the prayer learnt\nat his mother\u2019s knee.\u201d But what most of all excited his wonder were the\ndifficult exercises in geometry, trigonometry, land-surveying, algebra\n(and other sciences, of which he gives a list), which he saw accomplished\nby the class of advanced pupils under the direction of Brother Christian.\nAccording to his account, the so-called _Ignorantins_ are almost\nalarmingly scientific.\n\nWhen we bear in mind that Canada, although its present population does\nnot amount to four millions, is one-third larger than France, and that\nits natural resources are equivalent to those of France and Germany\ncombined, we can understand the importance of its future when once those\nresources shall be made available; and also we perceive the wisdom of\nthe Christian Brothers in doing their utmost to prepare the way for this\nresult to be attained by a well and religiously instructed generation.\n\nBut to return to Europe. The work of the Christian Schools began in\nIreland, in 1802, when Mr. Edmund Rice, of Waterford, founded one in his\nnative town, with great success. Another was established in 1807, by Mr.\nThomas O\u2019Brien, at Carrick-on-Suir, and a third at Dungarvan; but it was\nnot until 1822 that the Irish Brothers adopted the rule of the venerable\nDe la Salle. The institute in Ireland is the same in spirit as it is the\nsame in rule, with some slight modifications; but it does not depend\nupon the French institute, although connected with it in friendly and\nfraternal relations, its separate existence being especially adapted to\nthe wants of the people of Ireland.\n\nIn tracing some of the widespread ramifications of his work we seem to\nhave lost sight of the toiling Brother to whom so much of its success\nwas due. The fact of having the responsibility of so extensive an\nadministration did not prevent his personally working at the classes like\nany other Brother of the institute. He possessed in a remarkable degree\nthe gift of imparting knowledge, whether in things human or divine.\nFrom the time of his entrance into the institute his manner of teaching\nthe catechism had been remarked; and it was always with the liveliest\nenjoyment that he fulfilled this important portion of his duties. Nothing\nof all this teaching has been written down; but there remains a book\nwritten by Brother Philip, of which the title is _Explanations in a\ncatechetical form of the Epistles and Gospels for all the Sundays and\nprincipal festivals of the year_, in which the varied depths of religious\nthought of the pious writer are presented with a precision and yet\nreadiness of expression in themselves constituting a simple and earnest\neloquence. This book is considered a model, both with regard to the\nsubstance and the art of teaching; the writer does not fit the truth to\nhis words, but his words to the truth.\n\nThus far we have sketched the origin and progress of the institute of\nthe Brothers of the Christian Schools in times of comparative peace,\nwith brief exceptions; in the second and concluding part of our notice\nthe members of this institute will appear under a new aspect--on the\nbattle-fields where these men of prayer and peace showed themselves to\nbe, in that which constitutes true heroism, the bravest of the brave.\n\nTO BE CONCLUDED NEXT MONTH.\n\n\nTHE LADY ANNE OF CLEVES.\n\nAnne of Cleves, the fourth queen and third wife of Henry VIII. of\nEngland, is one of the least known personages in history. Fortunately for\nherself, she never gained the sad celebrity of his victims, Catherine\nof Aragon, Anne Boleyn, and Catherine Howard. As virtuous and sedate\nas the former, she was less high-spirited and dangerously fearless. At\nthe same time, her gentleness was much the same as that of her only\nroyal predecessor, and, like her, she won the respect and love of the\npeople. If she submitted somewhat too passively to the sentence of\ndivorce, or rather of nullification of her marriage, as pronounced by\nCranmer, it must be remembered that, unlike Catherine of Aragon, she had\nreason to dread the consequences of opposition to the king\u2019s despotic\nwill. Her husband\u2019s brutal treatment of her during the short time they\nlived together, his coarse expressions of disrespect and loathing, his\nutter want of consideration towards her as a princess, and lack of\ngentlemanlike behavior towards her as a woman and a stranger in his\nrealm, were enough to dispose her to consent to any conditions which\nleft her alive and safe, even had she not had before her eyes the sad\nexperience of several judicial murders committed just before and after\nher ill-omened wedding. Among the strange circumstances of her--in a\nsense--obscure life is this: that, having been brought up a Lutheran,\nand proposed as a wife to Henry VIII. as a means of conciliating the\nleague of powerful Protestant princes in Germany, she died a Catholic in\nher adopted country. Her sister, Sibylla, had married John Frederick,\nthe Elector of Saxony, who uniformly befriended Luther. Whether Anne\u2019s\nconvictions were very strong or not it is not easy to say; a terror of\nher future husband was enough to explain her making no demur at being\nmarried according to the Catholic form, which was done with great pomp\nand solemnity; but she did her best while queen to save Dr. Barnes, the\nReformer, probably on account of her sympathy with his opinions. In this\nshe was unsuccessful; indeed, she never had any influence with the king.\nThis is perhaps the only decided evidence of her being attached to the\ndoctrines in which she had been educated, and probably the religious\nimpressions she received in England were all in favor of Catholicity.\nAt this time neither court nor people had changed in doctrine, though\nthere _was_ a real Protestant party, quite distinct from the king\u2019s\ntime-serving prelates and obsequious courtiers. Still, Henry was\nunswervingly attached to the forms of the church of his fathers, and in\nmany points to its doctrines, and, indeed, would have been by no means\nflattered by becoming the head of a \u201cchurch\u201d without outward symbolism\nand stately ceremony, such as the hidden body of Puritans already desired.\n\nThe portrait of Anne of Cleves--_i.e._, of her disposition and\ncharacter--is very winning. Her mother, who, says Nicolas Wotton, was a\n\u201cvery wise lady, and one that very straightly looketh to her children,\u201d\nhad evidently brought her up, as most Flemish and German girls, in a\nwomanly, modest, and useful fashion. She is described as \u201cof very lowly\nand gentle conditions, by which she hath so much won her mother\u2019s favor\nthat she is very loath to suffer her to depart from her. She occupieth\nher time much with her needle. She can read and write her own, but\nFrench, or Latin, or other language she knoweth not; nor yet can sing or\nplay on any instrument, for they take it here in Germany for a rebuke and\nan occasion of lightness that great ladies should be learned or have any\nknowledge of musick.\u201d\n\nIt is not surprising that they should have had such a prejudice at that\ntime, considering how polite learning was fast becoming the all-atoning\ncompensation for the lowest morals and most shameless intrigues in the\ncourts of Italy, of France, and of England. Later on the English annalist\nHolinshed, who wrote of her after her death, praised her as \u201ca lady of\nright commendable regard, courteous, gentle, a good housekeeper, and very\nbountiful to her servants.\u201d Of her kind heart her will is a striking\ninstance; for her heart seems more set on her \u201calms-children\u201d than on\nany other of her pensioners and legatees. Herbert, the author of a short\nsketch of her life, gives his opinion as follows: \u201cThe truth is that\nAnne was a fine, tall, shapely German girl, with a good, grave, somewhat\nheavy, gentle, placid face\u201d; but he goes on to add up her deficiencies\nin beauty, style, and accomplishments, and calls her \u201cprovincial\u201d as\ncompared with the \u201crefined, volatile beauties of the French and English\nor the stately donnas of the Spanish courts.\u201d\n\nThat she was not beautiful, and that Henry was purposely deceived as\nto her personal charms by the short-sighted Cromwell, is undeniable.\nHenry, who had so unfeelingly discarded his once beautiful and sprightly\nand his still loving, stately, and queenly wife, Catherine of Aragon,\nas soon as his wandering fancy had fixed upon a younger beauty, could\nnot be expected to feel less than a sheer disappointment at the sight\nof Anne of Cleves. So fastidious was he that he had actually asked\nFrancis I. of France to send him twenty or thirty of the most beautiful\nwomen in France, that he might pick and choose among them; and when the\nhapless ambassador, Marillac, had respectfully proposed that he should\nsend some one to the court to choose for him, he had abruptly exclaimed\nwith an oath: \u201cHow can I depend upon any one but myself?\u201d Cromwell, to\nwhose political schemes the alliance of the Schmalkalden League (as the\ncoalition of German Lutheran princes was called) was necessary, duped\nthe king by causing Holbein to paint a flattering miniature of Anne.\nThis was enclosed in a box of ivory delicately carved in the likeness of\na white rose, which, when the lid was unscrewed, showed the miniature\nat the bottom. Her contemporaries vary so greatly in their reports of\nher appearance that an exact description of an original pencil-sketch\n(unfinished) among the Holbein heads in the royal collection at Windsor\nmay be of some value. Miss Strickland, in her _Lives of the Queens of\nEngland_, gives it thus: \u201cThere is a moral and intellectual beauty in\nthe expression of the face, though the nose and mouth are large and\nsomewhat coarse in their formation. Her forehead is lofty, expansive,\nand serene, indicative of candor and talent. The eyes are large, dark,\nand reflective. They are thickly fringed, both on the upper and lower\nlids, with long, black lashes. Her hair, which is also black, is\nparted and plainly folded on either side the face in bands, extending\nbelow the ears--a style that seems peculiarly suitable to the calm and\ndignified composure of her countenance.\u201d What must have been most to her\ndisadvantage was not the _brown_ complexion of which Southampton, the\nlord-admiral, so dexterously spoke when the king asked him in anger, \u201cHow\nlike you this woman--do you think her so fair?\u201d nor her heavy features,\nbut the marks of the small-pox, with which she was plentifully pitted.\nThis, in itself, may have materially contributed to the clumsiness of\nher features. Her \u201cprogress\u201d from her native city of D\u00fcsseldorf to the\nshores of England lasted two months, partly from stress of weather,\nwhich detained her nearly three weeks at Calais, partly from the state\nof the roads and the necessary pageantry which her own countrymen and\nher future subjects tendered to her on her way. Antwerp distinguished\nitself, as usual, by a lavish display of _bravery_. The English merchants\nof that town came out four miles to meet her, to the number of fifty,\ndressed in velvet coats and chains of gold; while at her entrance into\nthe town, at daylight, she was honorably received with twice fourscore\ntorches. Again, we find that she arrived at Calais between seven and\neight o\u2019clock in the morning, and that in mid-December. As she is said\nto have travelled generally at about the rate of twenty English miles a\nday, and each of these places, at which she arrived so early, was made\nthe scene of rejoicing and feasting for her and her train, it is evident\nthat much of her journey must have been performed in the chilly hours\nbefore the dawn of a winter\u2019s day. In the train sent to welcome Anne\nof Cleves were kinsmen of five out of Henry\u2019s six queens. The time was\nwhiled away in the then English city of Calais in the usual festivities,\nand she was taken to see the king\u2019s ships _Lyon_ and _Sweepstakes_, which\nwere decked in her honor with a hundred banners of silk and gold, and\nfurnished with \u201ctwo master-gunners, mariners, thirty-one trumpets, and\na double-drum that was never seen in England before; and so her grace\nentered into Calais, at whose entering there were one hundred and fifty\nrounds of ordnance let out of the said ships, which made such a smoke\nthat not one of her train could see the other.\u201d[108] From Dover, after\na quick and prosperous passage of the proverbially churlish Channel,\nshe went to Canterbury and thence to Rochester, where, on New Year\u2019s\neve, 1540, the king, impelled by a boyish curiosity ill-suited to his\nyears and antecedents, told Cromwell that he intended to visit the queen\nprivately and suddenly. So he and eight of his attendant gentlemen\ndressed themselves alike in coats of \u201cmarble color\u201d (probably some kind\nof gray), and presented themselves in her apartments. He was taken\naback at her appearance, and for once \u201cwas marvellously astonished and\nabashed.\u201d It was the first time he had had a queen proposed to him whom\nhe had not seen beforehand, and he felt that, at least in the eyes of\nthe people, he had gone too far to be able to draw back now. He, who\nhad never been taught self-restraint in anything, was not the man to\nexercise forbearance towards his luckless bride; yet, for the first and\nalmost the only time, it was noticed that he absolutely showed her some\nscant civility. Either she knew him from his portraits or the evident\nprominence of one of her visitors indicated to her who was her future\nhusband; for she sank on her knees at his approach, probably reading his\nsurprise by her own instincts, and wishing to propitiate him with the\nmeekness and deep humility of her behavior. Still, it was not Catherine\nof Aragon\u2019s dignified humility and Christian majesty of demeanor, as\nshe had pleaded for herself as a stranger no less than as a loving and\nfaithful wife. The chronicler Hall says that the king \u201cwelcomed Anne with\ngracious words, and gently took her up and kissed her\u201d--which is likely\nenough; yet we cannot rely on Hall\u2019s authority as a grave historian, in\nafter-times, as we always find him a gossiping and complacent relater of\ncourt pageantries, and a blind admirer of the king\u2019s every word and look.\nNo doubt he was wise in his generation--for what else could contemporary\nhistorians do to save their heads?--and after three hundred and fifty\nyears we are glad to have his gorgeous _Chronicles_ to dip into. Strype,\nLord Herbert of Cherbury, Burnet, Lingard, and others agree that\nimmediately after the king left Anne (with whom he had supped) he angrily\ncalled his lords together, and reproached them with having deceived him\nby false reports of her beauty; and, further, that he sent her the New\nYear\u2019s gift, which he had intended to present to her in person, by his\nmaster of the horse, Sir Anthony Browne, with a cold, formal message,\nexcusing himself to those about him by saying that \u201cshe was not handsome\nenough to be entitled to such an honor\u201d as his personal offering.\n\nThe French ambassador, Marillac, preserved the record of many little\ndetails in his sprightly but gossiping correspondence with his superiors\nduring the years 1539-40. These diplomatic gossipings seem to have been\nmuch the fashion; for the Venetian envoys also indulge in them. Courts\nand cabinets were more intimately connected then than the _bourgeois_\nimprovements of the later domestic life in royal circles make it possible\nfor them to be now. But if the French ambassador could be minute in his\ndescriptions, he was not so good an adept at the mysteries of English\nspelling. He invariably spells Greenwich _Greenwigs_, and Westminster\n_Valsemaistre_. After Henry\u2019s discourteous reception of his bride he\nreturned to his palace at the former place, and there met the cunning\ncontriver of the match, Cromwell, whom he upbraided coarsely for having\nyoked him with a \u201cgreat Flanders mare.\u201d The minister tried to shift the\nblame on Southampton, who had conducted the princess to England; but the\nlatter bluntly replied that \u201chis commission was only to bring her to\nEngland; and \u2026 as she was generally reputed for a beauty, he had only\nrepeated the opinion of others, \u2026 and especially as he supposed she would\nbe his queen.\u201d Dealing with Henry VIII. involved a dangerous game, as no\none knew for two days together to whom to look as the \u201crising sun.\u201d The\nmild, gentle woman who was never to have any influence, and yet was to\nwin all hearts save that of the brutal king, was perhaps an object of\nchivalrous pity to the lord high admiral, who thus prudently entrenched\nhimself within the safe limits of his \u201ccommission.\u201d\n\nAt length, after repeated, peevish outbursts of despotic ill-temper and\nsuch expressions as this: \u201cIs there, then, no remedy but that I must\nneeds put my neck into the yoke?\u201d the king gave orders for his marriage\npreparations. It is curious to think of the now dense and unsavory city\naccumulations that cover the \u201cfair plain\u201d at the foot of Shooter\u2019s Hill,\non which were pitched the tent of cloth of gold and the gay pavilions\nwhere the slighted bride was publicly met and saluted by her future\nhusband. To do him justice, he behaved with proper outward respect\ntowards her. From Greenwich to Blackheath \u201cthe furze and bushes\u201d were\ncut down and a clear road made, lined with the companies of merchants,\nEnglish, Spanish, Flemish, and Italian, in coats of embroidered velvet,\nwhile \u201cgentlemen pensioners\u201d and knights and aldermen wore massive chains\nof gold. The princess and her retinue, consisting both of her English\nescort and her native attendants, met the king at some distance from the\ntent, and patiently listened to a long Latin oration delivered by the\nking\u2019s almoner, and answered on her behalf by another solemn string of\nclassical platitudes by her brother\u2019s learned secretary, of neither of\nwhich speeches she understood one word. Anne wore a rich but somewhat\ntasteless dress, cut short and round, without any train, which rather\nshocked the fastidious eyes of the French ambassador and the English\ncourtiers. The king, for his fourth bridal, wore a dress which, though\nrich, must have been unbecoming to one of his size and complexion. The\nchronicler Hall describes it as a sort of frock of _purple_ velvet, \u201cso\nheavily embroidered with _flat gold of damask_ and lace that little of\nthe ground appeared. Chains and guards of gold hung round his neck and\nacross his shoulders. The sleeves and breast were cut and lined with\ncloth of gold, and clasped with great buttons of diamonds, rubies, and\norient pearls, \u2026 his sword and girdle adorned with emeralds, \u2026 but his\nbonnet so rich of jewels that few men could value them; \u2026 besides all\nthis, he wore a collar of such balas, rubies, and pearls that few men\never saw the like.\u201d He was on horseback, but his \u201chorse of state\u201d was\nled behind him by a rein of gold, and wore trappings of crimson velvet\nand satin embroidered with gold. A multitude of gorgeously-dressed pages\nfollowed, each mounted on coursers with trappings to match. The princess\nwas no less loaded with jewels, and her horse wore trappings which,\ntogether with the \u201cgoldsmith\u2019s work\u201d of the dress of her running footmen,\nwas embroidered with the black lion of the shield of Hainaut. The king\nadvanced and embraced her, and, to all outward appearance, did princely\nhomage to her--all through an interpreter, however; and with more\ndescriptions of wonderful clothes and ornaments, the old chronicler moves\nthe whole pageant forward through the park to Greenwich palace. At one\nstage of the procession the princess seems to have exchanged her horse\nfor a chariot of curious, antique fashion. A prominent place was assigned\namong her retinue to her three Flemish washerwomen, or, in the language\nof that day, her launderers. Then followed the great water-pageant on\nthe Thames, where each city guild rivalled its fellows in display, every\nbarge rowing up and down, proudly showing its streamers, pensiles, and\ntargets, some painted with the king\u2019s arms, some with her grace\u2019s, and\nsome with those of their own \u201ccraft or mystery.\u201d Then there was a barge,\nmade like a ship, called the bachelor\u2019s bark, decked with the same\nstreaming banners, besides a \u201cfoyst,\u201d or gun, \u201cthat shot great pieces\nof artillery.\u201d The barges also bore companies of singers and players,\nsome concealed, some elevated on decorated platforms. This was the fifth\ntime that they had been decked for a bridal, if we count Catherine of\nAragon\u2019s first wedding-day, when the Prince Arthur, who might have\nrivalled his legendary namesake, received the acclamations of a loyal\npeople. The loyalty must have got sadly rusty by this time, however, as\nthe unwieldy, bloated king rode past in his ghastly finery, escorting\nanother perspective victim to a palace which only good-luck prevented\nfrom becoming her prison. Again Henry gave Cromwell ominous hints of his\ndistaste to Anne of Cleves, as on the evening of this holiday he asked\nhis opinion of her beauty. Cromwell answered that she had a queenly\nmanner; and for Henry, whose two beheaded favorites, Anne Boleyn and\nCatherine Howard, chiefly offended him by their indiscreet and familiar\nbehavior, this ought to have been a source of satisfaction; yet even\non that last day of his liberty he called his council together, and\ndespotically ordered them to see if he could not, by any quibble, get\nrid of his bargain with the despised princess. Doubtless the indignity\nwould have seemed rather a boon to the royal Griselda; but, such as it\nwas, it was not granted. Things had gone too far. The Schmalkalden League\nmight resent the insult; the English people, with their rough love of\n\u201cfair play,\u201d might even rise in insurrection. Tudorism had scarcely yet\nadvanced to absolute Mahometanism, and the council decided that the\nmarriage must take place. Henry sullenly acquiesced, but Cromwell\u2019s\nfate was sealed. \u201cI am not well handled,\u201d exclaimed the king more than\nonce, and alleged that his bride had been betrothed to the Prince of\nLorraine in her childhood, though Anne, when required, solemnly denied\nthat at present she was bound by any pre-contract. This she was forced\nto do in public before the whole council. When the marriage was fixed\nfor the feast of the Epiphany, 1540, Henry, ignoring the right of her\nown countrymen, Overstein and Hostoden, to give her away, associated\none of his subjects, Lord Essex, in the office which by every right,\nof custom as well as feeling, belonged only to the representatives of\nher family. The bridal robes were a repetition of the gorgeous apparel\nalready described; but the _round_ dress of the bride seems ungainly. She\nwore her long, luxuriant yellow hair flowing down her shoulders, says\nHall; but, as in her portrait her eyes and hair are dark, Miss Strickland\nsuggests that these \u201cgolden locks\u201d were false. The contrast must have\nbeen unfavorable. On her coronal \u201cwere set sprigs of rosemary, an herb\nof grace, which was used by maidens, both at weddings and funerals, for\n_souvenance_,\u201d say some MSS. of that day.\n\nThe marriage was performed at Greenwich by Cranmer, Archbishop of\nCanterbury, according to the rites of the Catholic Church. There was\na solemn Mass, at the Offertory of which the king and queen went up to\nthe altar and offered tapers. Then, returning to the gallery, they took\nwine and spices (_i.e._, comfits and preserves), and at nine in the\nmorning (the marriage had been at eight o\u2019clock) dined together. There\nwas something terribly incongruous in the schismatic king, excommunicated\nfor adultery, and the passive Lutheran princess, being joined together\nin matrimony by an archbishop whose _complaisant_ character and loose\nmorals made many, even of that day, consider him a false shepherd. And\nadd to this that Queen Anne died a Catholic, and had as her chaplain\nand confessor a Spaniard, whom it is permissible to identify with the\nsame Tomeo who was once in the service of the holy Queen Catherine of\nAragon. The wedding-ring which Henry gave to his third and last lawful\nwife[109] had this motto engraved on it: \u201cGod send me weel to kepe,\u201d\nin Old-English letters. In the evening of the wedding-day the royal\npair attended Vespers in state and then supped together. These meals\nmust have been characterized by the same barbarous etiquette as those\non the occasion of Anne Boleyn\u2019s coronation, during which we are told:\n\u201cAnd under the table went two gentlewomen and sat at the queen\u2019s feet\nduring the dinner.\u201d Their office was to hold the queen\u2019s handkerchief,\ngloves, etc. Sometimes there were as many as four of these attendants.\nThe queen publicly washed her hands in a silver basin full of scented\nwater, and the basin and ewer were both held by the great dignitaries of\nthe realm. Two countesses stood one on each side, \u201cholding a fine cloth\nbefore the queen\u2019s face whenever she listed to spit or do otherwise at\nher pleasure\u201d--a most extraordinary office, but probably so old as to be\nstill in form indispensable in that land of _precedents_ and of tenacity\nconcerning all old customs.\n\nAnne\u2019s short days with her ungallant husband were a sad trial to her;\nshe never gained his affections nor acquired influence with him. She was\ntoo true to feign a love she did not feel or to use adulation to conquer\npower. Henry complained to Cromwell that she \u201cwaxed wilful and stubborn\nwith him\u201d; and her partial biographer, Miss Strickland, says of her:\n\u201cAnne was no adept in the art of flattery, and, though really of \u2018meek\nand gentle conditions,\u2019 she did not humiliate herself meanly to the man\nfrom whom she had received so many unprovoked marks of contempt.\u201d\n\nThe king, whether from ironical or politic motives, still called her\n\u201csweetheart\u201d and \u201cdarling\u201d before the ladies of her bed-chamber, but\nwas already meditating a divorce. Their last public appearance together\nwas at the jousts at Durham House, where a company of knights in white\nvelvet took part in a tournament and a feast of good cheer which the\nking and queen honored with their presence. This was on the first of\nMay, after they had been married but four months. The queen, whose\nconduct was so irreproachable that her direst enemy could find no link\nin this \u201carmor of proof,\u201d occupied her time in embroidery and needlework\nwith her maids of honor, as the meek but dignified Catherine of Aragon\nhad done, both in the days of her power and in those of her distress.\nSaving the beauty which had once been his first wife\u2019s portion, and the\nmajesty of character which never left her to her dying day, his third\nconsort must have reminded him of the pure, domestic tie which had been\nhis in his youth, of the blameless, gentle, yet stately courtesies in\nwhich his court had rejoiced under the sway of a _royal_ mistress.\nBut the unhappy Catherine had loved him, while the more passive Anne\nsimply endured him. Even this was a surprise and a vexation to him, as\nappeared a few weeks later, when, on hearing that she gladly assented\nto the divorce, he wondered that she was so ready to part with him.\nWhen her ladies ventured to ask her if she had told \u201cmother Lowe,\u201d her\nconfidential nurse and countrywoman, how the king neglected her, she\nanswered truthfully, \u201cNay, I have not; but I receive quite as much of his\nmajesty\u2019s attention as I wish.\u201d Henry meanwhile encouraged her English\nladies to mimic and ridicule her in her dress, her foreign accent, her\nwant of learning. He openly said that he had never given his _inward\nconsent_ to the marriage; that he feared he had wronged the Prince of\nLorraine, to whom he persisted in considering her as \u201cprecontracted\u201d;\nand further had the assurance to prate of his _conscientious scruples_\nas to marriage with a Lutheran![110] But the plotter whose schemes her\nmarriage had served was doomed to fall before her. Cromwell was arrested\na few days before she was dismissed from the court on the pretext of her\nhealth requiring change of air. She was banished to Richmond; he was\nconfined in the Tower. The facile Cranmer for the third time \u201cdissolved\u201d\na marriage he had made, and, obeying Henry\u2019s changeful whims, pronounced\n_both parties_ free to marry again. But the liberty so formally granted\nwas by no means to be literally understood as regarded the queen. \u201cThe\nparticulars of this transaction (the divorce),\u201d says Miss Strickland,\n\u201cshow in a striking manner the artfulness and injustice of the king and\nthe slavishness of his ministers and subjects.\u201d A so-called convocation\nreviewed the case and pronounced the divorce, on the grounds already\nmentioned, dictated by the king, and the House of Lords cringingly passed\nthe necessary bill. The very same Southampton who had escorted Anne of\nCleves to England bore the message to her depriving her of her royal\nstate. She swooned at first, thinking that the deputation had come to\npronounce sentence of death upon her. As soon as she understood that\nher life was safe she showed an alacrity in stripping herself of her\ndangerous honors, which of itself was perhaps more dangerous. However,\nthe king was too busy with his new toy-victim, the wretched Catherine\nHoward, to take notice of these symptoms of Anne\u2019s joy at her safety.\nThe terms were simply honorable imprisonment. She was not to leave the\nrealm, and, in reality, was kept as a hostage for the good behavior of\nher relatives abroad, who might otherwise have been tempted to resent her\nwrongs. Here begins the uniqueness of her lot. She was adopted as the\nking\u2019s \u201csister,\u201d was to resign the title of queen, but to have precedence\nat court over every other lady, save the king\u2019s future \u201cwife\u201d and his\ntwo daughters, and to be amply provided for out of the royal treasury.\nWith Mary and Elizabeth she was on the most friendly terms, and at the\nbeginning of her marriage endeavored, by every means in her power, to\nbring the neglected Mary into notice. From Anne\u2019s expressions in her\nletters to her brother it appears that any hostile demonstration on his\npart to revenge her would have brought evil on her. She says: \u201cOnly I\nrequire this of you: that ye so conduct yourself as for your untowardness\nin this matter I fare not the worse, whereunto I trust you will have\nregard.\u201d She humbly returned her wedding-ring to her dictatorial husband,\nand wrote a letter of submission in German, which the councillors sent\nto him in translation. A handsome maintenance was allotted her, and she\nevidently took kindly to her new position, even cheerfully acquiescing\nin the command to receive no letters or messages from her kindred. Thus\nthe leave to \u201cmarry again\u201d was in her case evidently only a matter of\nform. The king had the boldness to allude to her \u201ccaprice\u201d as a woman,\nwhich might make her break these promises, and the meanness to order that\nmeasures should be taken to prevent the possibility of her breaking them.\nThese are his words--a monument of despicable tyranny: \u201cAnd concerning\nthese letters to her brother, how well soever she speaketh now, with\npromises, to abandon the condition [caprice] of a woman, \u2026 we think\ngood, nevertheless, rather by good means to prevent that she should not\nplay the woman _than to depend upon her promise_; _nor, after she have\nfelt at our hand all gratuity and kindness_, \u2026 to leave her at liberty,\nto gather more stubbornness than were expedient, \u2026 she should not play\nthe woman [_i.e._, change her mind] if she would.\u2026 Unless these letters\nbe obtained, all shall [_i.e._, will] remain uncertain upon a woman\u2019s\npromise--that she will be no woman--the accomplishment whereof, on\nher behalf, is as difficult in the refraining of a woman\u2019s will, upon\noccasion, as in changing her womanish nature, which is impossible.\u201d[111]\n\nMarillac, the ambassador, says on this occasion that \u201cthe queen takes\nit all in good part.\u201d But the people had evidently grown to love her,\nand, as far as they dared, murmured at the indignity put upon her; for\nhe adds: \u201cThis is cause of great regret to the people, whose love she\nhad gained, and who esteemed her as one of the most sweet, gracious,\nand humane queens they have had; and they greatly desired her to\ncontinue with them as their queen.\u201d No doubt the people had a greater\nsense of dignity than their king, and wished the sovereign lady of so\ngreat a realm to be of royal race and breeding. It was not for them\nto be subjects of a subject, while foreign kingdoms, and even small\nprincipalities, had queens-consort of royal degree. They had had sad\nexperience, too, of the desolating rivalries produced among the great\nlords by these intermarriages with subjects, and therefore welcomed the\ngentle foreigner, so quick to learn English speech and English ways, but\nwhose kindred was little likely to embarrass them.\n\nAnne always signed herself \u201cDaughter of Cleves\u201d after her dismissal from\ncourt, and her gayety seems to have revived as soon as she found her life\nsafe. Scarcely a month after the divorce was pronounced Henry visited\nher at Richmond, and she entertained him so pleasantly, says Marillac,\nthat he stayed and supped with her \u201cright merrily, and demeaned himself\nwith such singular graciousness that some \u2026 fancied he was going to\ntake her for his queen again.\u201d If his hostess had thought so, doubtless\nshe would have abated her pleasant humor and appeared less ready to\nwelcome him. As it was, she put on every day a rich new dress, \u201ceach\nmore wonderful than the last,\u201d fared sumptuously, held her little court\nlike a noble English lady of that day, dispensing alms and bounties, and\npassing her time, as Marillac says, \u201cin sports and recreations.\u201d Her real\nself bloomed again in this atmosphere of safety and unrestricted mental\nfreedom; for such this \u201chonorable imprisonment\u201d as a hostage certainly\nwas when compared with the teasing, daily companionship with the\ntreacherous king. A feint was made a little later to give her a choice as\nto whether she would live in England or abroad; but as the jointure was\ntied up in English lands and their revenue alone, and to the possessor of\nthese residence in England was attached as a _sine qua non_ condition,\nthe liberty of choice was practically null.\n\nAnne\u2019s court at Richmond and her life of gentle charities and innocent\nmerry-makings were suddenly startled, after sixteen months\u2019 peace, by\nthe news of the trial and execution of her unhappy successor, Catherine\nHoward. Immediately her partisan maids of honor, and indeed all her\nhousehold, who were devoted to her, began to speculate as to the chances\nof Providence interfering to reinstate their mistress in her rights.\nEvery one but herself wished for this restoration. One of her ladies\nwas actually committed to prison for having said, \u201cIs God working his\nown work to make the Lady Anne of Cleves queen again?\u201d adding that it\nwas impossible that so sweet a queen as Lady Anne could be utterly put\ndown. But, fortunately for the queen\u2019s peace of mind, there was no such\npossibility, even though her brother\u2019s ambassadors rather inconsiderately\nurged her restoration to her rightful position. The Privy-Purse expenses\nof her step-daughter, the Princess Mary, mentions a visit made by her to\nAnne in the year 1543 and her largesses to the latter\u2019s servants; also a\npresent of Spanish silk sent by Anne to Mary. Their intercourse seems to\nhave been pleasant and familiar; they were nearly of the same age and had\nmany domestic tastes in common. The contact between them may have been in\npart the means of Anne\u2019s becoming a Catholic, though there is but little\nto show at what precise time this took place. So English had the queen\ngrown that when Henry died, in 1547, she did not care to go to her own\ncountry, but willingly cast in her lot with her adopted land. Wise in her\nwidowhood, as she had been virtuous in her married life--no less during\nthe seven years of her separation than the six months of her reign--she\ndid not marry again nor in any way mix in political matters. Posterity\nhas unjustly set her down as an ugly, ill-conditioned, unlearned woman, a\nperson without taste and discernment, at best a mere puppet of Henry\u2019s.\nBut we venture to see her otherwise; though she may not have been learned\nlike Mary Tudor or Jane Grey, she was yet sufficiently instructed in\nall womanly arts, and quickly learned English, adapting herself, with\nrare prudence and discretion, to the ways of life and even the gorgeous\nsports of her adopted land; a trustworthy friend to the king\u2019s daughters,\nespecially the spurned and ill-fated Mary; a benevolent and self-denying\nwoman, a good mistress, a pleasant hostess, an admirable manager of her\ntenants, estates, and household, deft with her fingers, skilful at her\nneedle, gentle towards all, and, though not handsome, yet so winning\nthat her ladies--though it was the worst policy--had no other title for\nher than their \u201csweet queen,\u201d their \u201cdear lady,\u201d their \u201csweet mistress.\u201d\nShe outlived her stepson, Edward VI., and assisted publicly at Mary\u2019s\ncoronation, sitting in the same chariot as Elizabeth. \u201cBut,\u201d says Miss\nStrickland, \u201cher happiness appears to have been in the retirement of\ndomestic life.\u201d Further on the same biographer adds that it has been\nsurmised, from certain items in her list of expenses, that she sometimes\nmade private experiments in cooking. \u201cShe spent her time at the head\nof her little court, which was a happy household within itself, and we\nmay presume well governed; for we hear neither of plots, nor quarrels,\ntale-bearings nor mischievous intrigues, as rife in her home-circle. She\nwas tenderly beloved by her domestics, and well attended by them in her\nlast sickness.\u201d She survived her husband ten years, and died calmly and\nhappily at the age of forty-one. In her will she left almost all the\nmoney and jewels which she had at her disposal to those who had served\nher and to poor pensioners, besides scrupulously ordering every debt to\nbe paid. She left marriage-portions for her maids of honor, and ended by\nbeseeching her executors to \u201cpray for us and to see our body buried, \u2026\nthat we may have the suffrages of holy church according to the Catholic\nfaith, wherein we end our life in this transitory world.\u201d\n\nAccordingly, Queen Mary had her buried in Westminster Abbey with great\npomp, and the procession was graced with a hundred of her servants\nbearing torches, many knights and gentlemen with eight banners of arms\n(her own) and four banners of \u201cwhite taffeta wrought with gold,\u201d then\nthe twelve bedesmen of Westminster in new black gowns, bearing twelve\nburning torches and four white branches, her ladies on horseback and in\nblack gowns, and eight heralds, with white banners of arms, riding near\nthe hearse. At the abbey-door the abbot and other Catholic dignitaries in\nmitres and copes received the corpse with the usual solemn ceremonies,\nand, bringing her into the church, \u201ctarried dirge, and all the night\nwith lights burning.\u201d This stands for the Vespers in the Office for the\ndeparted. \u201cThe next day,\u201d says the chronicler Stow, \u201crequiem was sung,\nand my lord of Westminster (the abbot) preached as goodly a sermon as\never was made, and the Bishop of London sang Mass in his mitre, \u2026 and\nall the gentlemen and ladies offered [alms] at Mass.\u2026 Then all her head\nofficers brake their staves, and all her ushers brake their rods and cast\nthem into her tomb, \u2026 and thus they went in order to a great dinner given\nby my lord of Winchester to all the mourners.\u201d\n\nThere was more rest and peace in this funeral pageant than there had\nbeen in the ill-omened wedding ceremony of which she had been the object\nseventeen years before. Her tomb is near the high altar Westminster\nAbbey, at the feet of King Sebert, the original Saxon founder, before the\nrestoration of the abbey by Edward the Confessor. It is a plain-looking\nslab, like a bench, placed against the wall, and on parts of the\nunfinished structure the curious inquirer can trace her initials, A. and\nC., interwoven; but, such as it is, it is more of a memorial than fell\nto the lot of any of Henry\u2019s queens, not one of whom, says Stow, \u201chad a\nmonument, except Anne of Cleves, and hers was but half a one.\u201d\n\nThe horror felt on the Continent for the excesses and cruelty of the\nBluebeard of England was such that it was long believed that Anne had\neither died by unfair means or had escaped from her \u201ccruel imprisonment.\u201d\nAn impostor, therefore, for a time was enabled to take her place at one\nof the German courts--that of Coburg, where she was treated with royal\nconsideration--but the fraud was afterwards discovered. This is mentioned\nin Shobert\u2019s _History of the House of Saxony_. Upon the whole, Anne of\nCleves may be considered as the most fortunate among the many women whose\nlives were connected with that of King Henry VIII.\n\n\nIN MEMORY OF HARRIET RYAN ALBEE.\n\n    Like as remembered music long asleep\n      Within the heavy, o\u2019erencumbered brain,\n      When touched by some remote, unheeded strain,\n    Returns as turning tides from ocean creep\n      Along the sandy flats, and fill again\n    All the least wrinkles and each minute bowl\n      Which in their ebbing had imprinted been,\n    And soon with mightier longing overroll\n      Their wonted, moon-drawn ways, and throb and swell\n    \u2019Gainst the bared bosom of the happy earth;\n      So comes her spirit in the empty well\n    Of my dead heart, and overflows its dearth\n      With her all-perfect presence and the spell\n    Of love as strong, as sweet, as at its birth.\n\n\nTHE ROMAN RITUAL AND ITS CHANT\n\n_COMPARED WITH THE WORKS OF MODERN MUSIC._[112]\n\nINTRODUCTION.\n\n\nON THE DIVINE IDEA.\n\n    _The Divine Idea, the Exemplar or Pattern, in conformity with\n    which the intellect and free will of man, and whatever is their\n    combined work, finds its perfection._\n\nAll persons are familiar with the expression \u201cbeau ideal,\u201d and in judging\nof matters of taste nothing is more common than to appeal to the standard\nof an \u201cideal\u201d; as, for instance, the statue of the \u201cApollo Belvedere\u201d\nwould be, and is commonly said to realize, the \u201cideal\u201d of the human\nform. Of course the ideal thus appealed to, as existing generally in the\nminds of persons of education, is nothing in itself absolutely certain\nor determinate. But, as far as it goes, it is a natural indication that\nthe standard and measure of all perfection is an \u201cideal.\u201d For we see that\nan ideal which is generally recognized and acknowledged by persons of\ntaste and refinement does, in point of fact, come to be a standard, the\nauthority of which is accepted to a great extent by others.\n\nWhat is, then, in a measure true of an \u201cideal\u201d subsisting in the mind of\npersons of education, as a standard of perfection, must be infinitely\ntrue of the idea of creation subsisting in the mind of God from all\neternity. But as this leads to a speculative portion of Christian\nphilosophy which can scarcely be deemed popular, and might perhaps give\nrise in some minds to the feeling \u201cparturiunt montes,\u201d if they found that\nan abstruse foundation had been formally laid only for the superstructure\nof a discussion upon plain chant, the few remarks that have seemed\nnecessary to explain and justify the ground on which the ensuing essay\nproceeds have been collected together, and are here given in the form of\nan introduction, for the sake of burdening the discussion as little as\npossible with reasoning that does not properly belong to it.\n\nAll creation, according to Catholic theology, is the work of the\never-blessed Trinity. For only inasmuch as the Godhead subsisting in a\nTrinity of persons is for itself a perfect and undivided whole (\u03ba\u03bf\u03c3\u03bc\u03bf\u03c2\n\u03c4\u03b5\u03bb\u03b5\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2) can God bring into being a creation external to himself, without\nbecoming himself the world which he creates.\n\nTo God the Father theologians assign the eternal idea, or the conception\nfrom all eternity of the idea or form of creation;\n\nTo God the Son, the realization of the idea of the Father, or the act of\nbringing created things into being out of nothing, in conformity with the\nidea of the Father;\n\nTo God the Holy Ghost, the bringing creation to its perfection through\nthe period of its development or growth.\n\nS. Basil speaks to this effect in the following passage: \u201cIn the\ncreation I regard the Father as the first cause of created being, the\nSon as the creating cause, and the Holy Ghost as the perfecting cause.\nSo that spirits, through the will of the Father, are called into actual\nbeing through the operation of the Son, and are brought to perfection\nby the presence of the Holy Spirit. Let no one, however, think either\nthat I assume the existence of three original substances or that I call\nthe operation of the Son imperfect. For there is but one first principle\n(\u03b1\u03c1\u03c7\u03b7), which creates through the Son and brings to perfection through\nthe Holy Ghost\u201d (_De Spiritu Sancto_, c. 16).\n\nThe work, then, of God the Father was the eternal idea of all creation;\nin the language of S. Gregory Nazianzen, \u03b5\u03bd\u03bd\u03bf\u03b5\u03b9 \u1f41 \u03c0\u03b1\u03c4\u03b7\u03c1--\u03ba\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c4\u03bf \u03b5\u03bd\u03bd\u03bf\u03b7\u03bc\u03b1\n(idea) \u1f10\u03c1\u03b3\u03bf\u03bd \u03b7\u03bd, \u03bb\u03bf\u03b3\u1ff3 \u03c3\u03c5\u03bc\u03c0\u03bb\u03b7\u03c1\u03bf\u03c5\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c0\u03bd\u03b5\u03c5\u03bc\u03b1\u03c4\u03b9 \u03c4\u03b5\u03bb\u03b5\u03b9\u03bf\u03c5\u03bc\u03b5\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd (_Orat._\nxxxviii. n. 9); and this thought or idea was a work brought into reality\nby the Word, and brought to perfection by the Spirit.\n\nThe eternal idea of creation is thus explained by S. Thomas, _Summa_, p.\ni. qu\u00e6st. xv. art. 1 (_Utrum ide\u00e6 sint_):\n\n\u201cI answer that it is necessary to suppose ideas in the mind of God.\nIdea is a Greek word, and answers to the Latin _forma_, form. Whence by\nthe term ideas we understand the forms of things that exist external\n(_pr\u00e6ter_) to the things themselves. The form of a thing existing\nexternal to it may serve two purposes: 1. That it should be the\nexemplar (ideal) of that of which it is said to be the form, or that it\nshould be, as it were, the principle of knowledge itself, according to\nwhich the forms of things that may be known are said to exist in the\nunderstanding. And in either point of view it is necessary to suppose\nideas, as will be at once manifest. In all things that are not generated\nby chance, it is necessary that the production of some form should be\nthe result of the act of generation. For an agent would not act with\nreference to a particular form, except so far as he was already in\npossession of the likeness of the form in question. In some agents the\nform of the thing to be produced already pre-exists in a natural manner\n(_secundum esse naturale_), as in those things which act by natural\nlaws; but in others the form pre-exists in the intellect (_secundum esse\nintelligibile_). Thus the likeness or form of a house already exists in\nthe mind of the builder, and this may be called the idea of a house; for\nthe architect intends to make the house resemble the form which he has\nconceived in his mind. As, then, the world is not made by chance, it\nfollows that there must exist a _form_ (idea) in the mind of God, after\nthe likeness of which the world was made.\u201d\n\nQuite similar to these words of S. Thomas are the statements of S.\nAugustine, Dionysius, and other fathers, who had to deal on the one hand\nwith the philosophy of Plato, which taught that God created the world\nout of eternal matter, and according to an exemplar or ideal existing\nexternally to himself (\u03ba\u03bf\u03c3\u03bc\u03bf\u03c2 \u03bd\u03bf\u03b7\u03c4\u03bf\u03c2); and on the other with the Gnostic\nPantheism, which taught that the divine idea after which the world was\ncreated was identical with God, and creation consequently no more than an\nextension or manifestation of the Godhead.\n\nSimilar also is the following passage of the Abate Rosmini:\n\n\u201c\u2018Fide intelligimus aptata esse secula verbo Dei, ut ex invisibilibus\nvisibilia fierent\u2019 (Heb. xi. 3). What ever are these invisible things\nfrom which the things that are visible have been drawn? They are the\nconceptions of the Almighty, which subsisted in his mind before the\ncreation of the universe; they are the decrees which he has framed from\nall eternity, but which remained invisible to all creatures, because\nthese latter were not yet formed and the former not yet carried into\nexecution. These decrees and conceptions are the design of the wise\nArchitect, according to which the building has to be formed. But this\ndesign was never at any time drawn out on any external material, on paper\nor stone, but existed only in his own mind\u201d (Rosmini, _Della Divina\nProvidenza_, ed. Milano, 1846, p. 57).\n\nCreation proceeds from the thought and will of God jointly exercised,\nand is something external to God, which he has brought into being out of\nabsolute nothing, to quote Professor Staudenmaier: \u201cThe world is God\u2019s\nidea of the world brought into being, and the perfection of the original\nworld consisted in the fact that it absolutely corresponded to the divine\nidea\u201d (_Die Lehre von der Idee_, p. 914). \u201cEt vidit Deus quod esset\nbonum\u201d (Gen. i. 10).\n\nThe creation which we see, and of which we are ourselves immediately a\npart, bears the appearance of being an organized system, far outreaching\nthe powers of our intelligence; and we conclude intuitively that not only\nas an organized whole it answers to the idea of God, which contemplated\nsystem, order, harmony, and subordination of parts, but, further, that\nevery several part, as it came forth from the hand of the Creator, was\nfound good. In creation there are two principal parts, the material\nworld and the world of spirits. Matter, from the first instant of\ncreation, being without free will or mind, necessarily obeys the laws\nof its Creator, and at once absolutely answers to the divine idea.\nBut spirits were created in the image of God, and were endowed with\nthe likeness of his power of thought and will, and with a personality\nresulting from the possession of these gifts. To them, therefore, there\nis a moral trial or probation to be passed through before they finally\ncorrespond to the idea of their Creator. It is indeed true that from the\ninstant of their creation they realize the divine idea, in so far as that\nidea contemplates them, about to enter upon probation; but their passing\nthrough this trial or probation to the attainment of their perfection is\nalso contemplated, and of this perfection the divine idea is the exemplar\nor form.\n\nSpirits, then, formed in the image of God, and endowed with created\nbeing, intellect, and will, in the present system of creation, pass\nthrough probation; and their probation consists in learning to possess\nthese gifts in subordination to their Creator, who is absolute being,\nintellect, and will; and this trial is necessary to the perfection of\ntheir nature and to their passing into the possession of their permanent\nplace (\u03c4\u03b1\u03be\u03b9\u03c2) in the great order and harmony of the universe. There is\nnot, and cannot be, in the mind of God, any idea of evil. Evil has its\nsole origin in the rebellion of the created spirit when it refuses to\npossess and use its power of thought and will in subordination to the law\nand majesty of its Creator. And hence, although the rebel spirit answered\nequally with others at the first moment of its creation to the divine\nidea, yet, inasmuch as in its subsequent career it has placed itself\nagainst its Creator, it has ceased to answer to the divine idea; it has\nbecome a contradiction to it, and henceforward its existence is evil.\n\nThe case as regards the human creation does not differ at all in\nprinciple. Man is also a spirit, though his spirit be united to a body,\nand he is possessed of the same trinity of gifts--being, thought, and\nwill--although from the circumstance of his coming into the world in\nthe form of an infant, with his intellect and will in a state of germ,\nappointed to acquire their natural maturity only in process of time,\nhis probation would seem to require a longer period than that of the\nangels, and to be subject to the fluctuation of rebellions, succeeded by\nrepentances, and _vice vers\u00e2_--all which hardly seems probable in their\ncase. Still man, like the angels, passes through his probation; and when\nhe has passed through it, he is found either realizing the idea of his\nCreator, and happy, or fallen from it, and henceforward in contradiction\nwith it, for an eternity of misery. The idea of the Creator is to man, as\nwell as to the angels, the exemplar, or pattern, of his perfection.\n\nAnalogous to the first creation of the world is the second great work of\nGod--the redemption or new creation. Its decree is from God the Father;\nthe carrying into effect the Father\u2019s decree is the work of God the\nEternal Son; and the conducting it to perfection during the period of its\ngrowth and probation is the work of the Holy Ghost.\n\nNor is this work of redemption based upon any fundamental change in\nthe eternal idea of God, after which man was created. The eternal idea\nof God is incapable of change, and the work of grace or redemption\nis the restoration to a state of grace of the whole race, which, in\nthe person of Adam, fell into a condition of helpless although not\ntotal contradiction with the divine idea; and in his restored state of\nredemption the power has been again given to him of issuing out of his\nprobation through the aid and guidance of the Holy Ghost, conformable to\nthe unchanged, eternal idea of the Father.\n\nTo prevent misconception, it may be further remarked, in the words of\nProfessor Staudenmaier, \u201cThe second creation (or scheme of redemption)\nbuilds itself, on the one side, on _all that is indestructible_ in the\ndivine idea of man, as intelligence and freedom, and at the same time\nlabors to restore again that which was really lost by the original\ntransgression, viz., the supernatural principle and the justice and\nholiness of life which stands in connection with it. Hence under the\nscheme of redemption man comes to the perfection of his nature, in the\nmanner in which that perfection was contemplated in the divine idea (_in\nder Idee gesetz war_), viz., as the union of grace and free will (_in der\nEinheit von Freiheit und Gnade_).\u201d (_Die Lehre von der Idee_, p. 923).\n\nThe divine idea, then, is the exemplar or pattern of perfection\n(\u03c0\u03c1\u03bf\u03bf\u03c1\u03b9\u03c3\u03bc\u03bf\u03c2 \u03c0\u03b1\u03c1\u03b1\u03b4\u03b5\u03b9\u03b3\u03bc\u03b1, forma seu exemplar, _das Musterbild_) which,\nunder the scheme of redemption, man is called to realize. And his term\nof probation, under the guidance and influence of God the Holy Ghost, is\nso constituted as to be the trial of both his intellect and will, which\nin man, as in God, are mutually co-operating and co-ordinate springs of\naction. But though in man intellect and will must ever move hand in hand\nand in mutual concert to determine his actions, yet it is possible for\nhim to go astray through the special fault of one or the other, and to\nbe found at the end of his probation not to be what he might and ought\nto have been, as well through some special error of the understanding as\nthrough some vicious act of the will. Hence, after that the sacrifice had\nbeen paid which purchased man\u2019s restoration to a state of grace, God the\nFather, in the Son and through the Eternal Spirit, went on to provide the\naid that was found absolutely necessary to protect the erring intellect\nand the infirm will, in order that men might be preserved in the state of\ngrace, be guided in it onward to their perfection, and be furnished with\nthe medicinal means of restoration in case they might fall from it.\n\nTo this end the great society of the Catholic Church was instituted by\nGod the Son, and the command given to the Apostolic College to go forth\nto collect and organize it out of all the nations of the earth: \u201cAs the\nFather hath sent me, so send I you\u201d; while the work of God the Holy Ghost\nis the invisible imparting of spiritual gifts to the baptized members of\nthis society, according to the needs of their rank, position, ministry,\nand functions; and the whole work is directed to the end that man may\nissue out of his probation fulfilling and realizing the divine idea.\n\nNow, as God recognizes, in the probation of man, the trial of both\nintellect and will, and wills that not without the free exercise of these\nhe should attain the perfection of his nature, our first parents, in\nthe state of innocence, would, from their then enjoying a communication\nwith heaven, possess, perhaps, partly through intuition, partly from\nrevelation, a knowledge of the divine Exemplar, into conformity with\nwhich they were called to bring themselves. But when man fell and lost\nthe illumination of sanctifying grace, then the perception of the divine\nideal would be obscured and would cease to exist, except in the way of\nthe few mercifully-surviving glimpses of their higher destination, which\nthe history of our fallen race seems to indicate were never wholly lost.\n\nIt must be obvious, then, that a clear and practical view of the divine\nExemplar, which we are required to resemble, is as much the natural guide\nof the intellect in its probation as the view of the moral attributes\nof God is that which wins the heart and leads captive the will. It was,\namong other reasons, in order to place this Exemplar before us, that\nthe Eternal Son became man, and thus laid before the intellect of man,\nin his own most sacred humanity, the incarnate Exemplar of that which\nhumanity was to aim at becoming during the course and at the issue of\nits probation. And if a doubt could for a moment cross the mind as to\nthe question, What is the likeness or ideal that a Christian, as far as\nthe power is given to him, should seek to aim at bringing himself to\nresemble? it is answered by the fact of the Incarnation of the Son of\nGod. He is the incarnate Exemplar, or Pattern, for our study. His sacred\nhumanity absolutely answers to the idea of God the Father; and they who,\nthrough the aid of God the Holy Ghost, succeed in acquiring a resemblance\nto this incarnate Pattern, will be found at the issue of their probation\nso far to realize the end for which they were created.\n\nThe sacred humanity of the Eternal Son being now no longer visible in\nthe same manner as in the days when he taught with his apostles in\nJud\u00e6a, the church which he has founded has come to supply his place,\nand, by her varied means of instruction, to bring the knowledge of this\ndivine Exemplar home to the minds of all. In the words of an author\nquoted by Professor M\u00f6hler, the church is a continuation of Christ (_ein\nfortgesetzer Christus_).\n\nAnd thus with the question of Christian song. The intellect must at once\nfeel that it needs a guide, and cannot be safely entrusted to itself.\nNor can this guide be any other than the divine idea. And here, of\ncourse, it would be a manifest impiety for a human mind to attempt to\nconstruct, _\u00e0 priori_, an idea of music, and then to call its own work\nthe divine idea; for the whole value of the inquiry that is to follow is\nbuilt on the truth that the main features and the subsequently-detailed\nconstituent parts of the divine idea, as they have been laid down, are\nwhat they claim to be; and so far as these are capable of being disputed,\nthe comparison will of course fail of its effect. Professor Staudenmaier\njustly observes, in treating of the creation, \u201cBoth ideas, the divine\nand the human, stand in this relation to each other: that God realizes\nhis own eternal idea of the world in the act of creation, while man has\nto acquire his idea of the world from reasoning and an experimental\nexamination of the world as it exists after creation. As the idea, then,\nto God is the first, and the world last, so, on the contrary, to man the\nworld is first and the idea last, as that, namely, which he has had to\ngain for himself, as the result of a scientific examination of the divine\nwork\u201d (_Die Christliche Dogmatik_, vol. iii. part 1, p. 42.)\n\nBut if it be possible for the human mind to obtain a view of the divine\nidea of the creation from the study of the world as it exists, it must be\nalso possible, in an analogous manner, to gain a view of the divine idea\nof Christian music from the history of the church and the legislation of\ncouncils, from the doctrine of the apostles and fathers of the church,\nand, lastly, from the reason of the thing. The contrary supposition would\ninvolve the inadmissible alternative that our divine Redeemer, who had\ndone so much to furnish our understanding with its needed measure of\nguidance in the fact of his Incarnation and his living example, has left\nus without any principle at all to serve as our guide in the choice and\nemployment of sacred music. This cannot be. The divine Teacher of mankind\ncannot, for his mercy\u2019s sake, have left us to ourselves in so important\na matter, that so much concerns the adoration he has himself taught us\nto pay to his Father and the Holy Spirit. It must be possible, from his\nown sacred words, from those of his inspired apostles, from the doctrine\nof the fathers, from the history and legislation of the church, as well\nas from our own Christian reason and instinct, as has been humbly and\nimperfectly attempted in the ensuing inquiry, to gather a view of the\ndivine idea sufficiently clear and intelligible, sufficiently trustworthy\nand decisive, to serve as a guide for the understandings of those who\nfeel the deep and dear interest of the question and their own liability\nto fatal error, with all its destructive consequences.\n\nAnd if the means of acquiring such a view be open, it need not be said\nhow great a duty there is to search for it; and in whatever proportion\nthere be ground for believing that it has been, even though imperfectly,\nattained, it becomes so far a duty--an element in our probation, as\nwell as a sacred and meritorious work, by every tender, considerate,\nlegitimate, and untiring endeavor, to seek to bring Catholic Church music\ninto conformity with it.\n\n\nI.\n\nGENERAL STATEMENT OF THE BASIS OF THE COMPARISON.\n\nIt would be surely a superfluous labor at the outset of an inquiry which\nit is desirable should be as short and condensed as possible to prove,\nin a learned manner, the great practical importance of the question,\nWhat, under our present circumstances, is the wisest, the best, and the\nmost effectual use of music in the Catholic Church? The \u0153cumenical and\nprovincial councils that have made ritual chant the subject of their\nlegislation; the authors, such as Cardinal Bona and Abbot Gerbertus,\nsubsequent to the Council of Trent, not to speak of those who lived\nbefore it, who spent their lives in the study of all that Christian\nantiquity has thought and written upon it; the line of illustrious Roman\npontiffs who made it their study, with a view to the true direction of\nits use in the church, need but to be recalled to mind to place in its\ntrue light the exceedingly practical importance of any controversy which\naffects its efficiency or mode of employment in the Catholic Church.[113]\nMoreover, if there were no such evidence of the importance of the\nquestion at issue to be found in the history of the past, still the mere\nobvious fact that vocal music enters so naturally into all the feelings\nof humanity, and domesticates itself so easily in every people, would\nbe sufficient to explain its importance. People in any society are so\ninsensibly moulded by all that surrounds them, are so much the creatures\nof the system in which they move, and grow up so naturally in conformity\nwith it, that in such a society as the Catholic Church, organized by\na divine wisdom, with a view to the training and instruction of its\nmembers, it is simply impossible that an agency such as music, possessed\nof such power for good or evil, could ever be regarded with indifference,\nor that there should be no definite views with regard to it, and its\nemployment be abandoned to the indiscretion and caprice of individuals.\n\nA question of individual taste, then, the present inquiry cannot for an\ninstant be considered. Indeed, from the moment it were thus regarded\nit would have lost its whole value. Persons are no doubt to be found\nwho would take a long journey and pay a large sum to hear Beethoven\u2019s\nmusic for the Ordinary of the Mass sung among the performances of a\nmusic-meeting, who, as far as music was concerned, and setting aside the\nmiracle, would hardly care to go across the street to hear S. Gregory\nsing Mass with his school of cantors, were they all to rise from the\ndead. So that if music in the Catholic Church could for a moment be\nconsidered as belonging of right to the dominion of individual taste,\nfurther controversy, it is plain, would be so far quite out of the\nquestion. The tastes of individuals, if not only devoid of rule, still do\nnot go by any rule sufficiently clear to be made the subject of a formal\ncontroversy.\n\nBut in the Catholic Church the question is not, and cannot be, one of\nindividual taste. When the divine Redeemer called his church to the work\nof training every nation and people under heaven, and gave to it the gift\nof sacred song, to be used as a powerful auxiliary agency in their work,\nwe are bound to conceive that there existed in his divine mind a clear\nand definite intention, both relatively to the end it was intended to\naccomplish in the midst of Christian society, and to its application to\nthis end as time should advance.\n\nSacred song has certainly a mission to accomplish upon earth, as well as\nthe proper manner of its application to its proposed end; and both alike\nhave been, in common with the whole work of creation, from the beginning\ncontemplated and intended by Almighty God.\n\nNow, the end intended by Almighty God, in his work of redemption in this\nworld, as say theologians, is primarily the manifestation of his own\nglory; and, secondarily, the re-establishment of order and virtue, piety\nand sanctity, in human society, with a view to the life to come, or, in\nother words, with a view to the true and eternal, as distinguished from\nthe false and fleeting, happiness of his creatures. From whence it would\nseem to result that the true character of the ecclesiastical song and\nits true application will be that in which it tends, in its own proper\ndegree, to become an auxiliary in the accomplishment of this great end.\nNor is it a second or a third rate efficaciousness that should be\ndeemed sufficient. For if Almighty God, as many theologians seem with so\nmuch justice to say, not from any external necessity, but from his own\nperfections, in virtue of which he is a law to himself, freely chooses\nonly those means that are _most_ efficacious to the end he proposes, so,\nin like manner, the Catholic Church, filled as she is with the outpouring\nof the divine Spirit, and called to the imitation of the divine\nperfections, cannot but in like manner feel constrained to choose that\nalone for her music which tends, with the best and most certain efficacy,\nto the attainment of the end which God has designed in the gift.\n\nThe foregoing remarks have, I hope, now laid the foundation on which the\nproposed inquiry may be conducted. And I think I may be allowed to say\nin the outset that an inquiry which has for its object to ascertain what\nthat may be in music and in the manner of its use which answers best\nto the idea existing in the mind of God, unless it very much belie its\npretensions and profession, may justly claim respect; and that the whole\ninvestigation is thus at once raised beyond the horizon of anything like\nhuman partisanship, as well as the sphere of those little irritabilities\nwith which discussions upon music may so easily be disfigured. And\nwithout at all presuming that the views here advocated ought necessarily\nto be adopted, the inquiry is still not a valueless service rendered to\nreligion, if it succeed no further than in impressing upon the minds of\nthose into whose way it may fall the fundamental idea upon which it is\nbuilt, viz., that the mission of sacred song in the Catholic Church\nis to realize, not the _ideas_ of men, which may and do differ in each\nindividual, but the _idea_ of the merciful and good God, who gave it for\nhis own purposes of mercy and benevolence.\n\nAnd since the idea, as it subsists in the mind of God, relative to the\nuse of song in the Catholic Church, is made the sole keystone of the\nwhole inquiry, as well to guard an avenue against possible misconceptions\nas also the more clearly to lay the basis of the discussion, it will be\nnecessary to state, at a somewhat greater length, what the divine idea of\nsacred song, in its first broad outline, may be taken to be.\n\nSacred song, it has been said, is to be regarded as the musical associate\nand auxiliary of the work of Christian instruction and sanctification\nin the church. It cannot be anything or everything that is luscious or\npleasing in music; moreover, it is an idea that goes beyond the notion of\nmere tune or melody, or even of the richest combination of sound that art\never produced. Sacred song, in the divine idea, must be more than mere\nmusic. For though it be true that tunes and other works of art in music\nare so far things by themselves as to be capable of being written in\nnotation, and thus preserved, still it seems impossible that mere tunes\nand mere music should answer to the divine idea of sacred song.\n\nWhen music has ceased to be mere sound; when it has been taken up by\nthe feelings and living intelligence of the human heart and mind; when\nthese have wedded it to themselves, have created in it a dwelling-place\nand a home, and out of it have formed for themselves a second language\nand range of expression; when the charm of melody has become the organ\nof a living soul and an energetic intelligence, then there results the\nbirth of an element of the utmost power for good or evil in the heart\nof human society; and it is in this power, Christianized and reduced to\nsubservience to the church, that there may be seen the first outline of\nthe divine idea of sacred song.\n\nThis principle is thus stated by Mgr. Parisis, Bishop of Langres:\n\n\u201cTo preserve the true character of the ecclesiastical chant it is\nnecessary to recall to mind the following essential maxim:\n\n    \u2018_Music_ for _words_, and not _words_ for _music_.\u2019\n\nThis is not the principle of worldly music, in which the words are often\nnothing but the unperceived and insignificant auxiliary of the sound.\n\n\u201cIn religion this cannot be, because articulate language is the essential\nbasis of all outward worship, especially public worship. This is a\ncertain truth of both reason and tradition. It is a truth of reason; for\nlanguage, that marvellous faculty which the Creator has given to man\nalone, is exclusively capable of finding an adequate expression for a\nworship of spirit and truth. It is also a truth of tradition; for the\nCatholic divine Offices have always been composed of words either drawn\nfrom the Sacred Scriptures or consecrated by tradition and chosen by\nthe church. It is superfluous to press the demonstration of a principle\nthat has never even been contested by any sect of separatists and does\nnot admit of serious doubt\u201d (_Pastoral Instruction on the Song of the\nChurch_, part ii.)\n\nThe three great social convulsions of France have given a remarkable\nproof of the above-mentioned power of song. Each called into being, and\nwas furthered in its rise and progress, by a song, _La Marseillaise_,\n_La Parisienne_, and that whose well-known burden runs thus:\n\n    \u201cC\u2019est le plus beau sort, le plus digne d\u2019envie\n    Que de mourir pour la patrie.\u201d\n\nSeparate the words of these songs from their melodies, and the result\nwould probably be the insignificance of both. But unite them, see them\npass into the mouths and hearts of convulsed multitudes, observe men,\nunder the delirium of their influence, march up to the cannon\u2019s mouth and\nplunge themselves headlong into eternity, and we have an instance of what\nis meant by saying that music, united to intelligence, is an agent of\nnearly unlimited power for good or evil in human society.\n\nThis, then, is the sense in which sacred song is to be viewed as\ncontemplated in the divine idea, viz., as the union of music with\nthought, feeling, and intelligence; in the words of the apostle (1 Cor.),\n_I will sing with the spirit, and I will sing with the understanding\nalso_--not, of course, as taking the understanding out of its natural\nmedium, language, but as clothing this its natural expression with a\nsuperadded charm, and a charm too, as will be afterwards seen, which\nhas the gift of absorbing and, to a certain extent, of reproducing the\nidea annexed to it. The church music which the divine idea contemplates\nis that vocal song which Christian truth, in all its varied range, has\nappropriated, has taken from the sphere of music and wedded to herself,\nwith the view of using the song thus associated to herself as the\ninstrument by which she may pass into the mouths of men, and in this\nway find a home in their hearts. Analytically, then, in the sacred\nsong contemplated by the divine idea, two separate elements are to be\nacknowledged--song and truth--but practically only one; for in practice\nthey are indissolubly linked together, and constitute one moral whole, as\nbody and soul together make up but one living being, to which, even more\nthan to the sacred architecture of a church, the beautiful sentiment of\nthe Ritual may be applied:\n\n    \u201cO sorte nupta prospera,\n    Dotata Patris gloria,\n    Respersa sponsi gratia,\n    Regina formosissima,\n    Christo jugata principi.\u201d\n\n    _De Ded. Eccl._\n\nTurning now, with this view of sacred song, to inquire what the Catholic\nChurch possesses, after 1800 years of labor with the people of every\nvariety of race and climate, in realization of the idea above stated,\nher various rituals, now for the most part withdrawn to make way for the\nbeautiful Ritual of the Roman Church, present themselves to view. These\nrituals and their chant[114] have, we may be sure, at least in their day,\nbeen in the church the fulfilment, imperfect indeed and inadequate, as\nall that man does in this world necessarily is, yet still the fulfilment\nof the divine idea with respect to song. More cannot be necessary in\nsupport of this statement than the fact of the innumerable churches that\nhave overspread Christendom, and the innumerable companies of saintly men\nwhose lives were spent in the choirs of these churches--not, of course,\nto the exclusion of other duties and spheres of labor, yet mainly spent\nin the choral celebration of the offices of the Ritual and in all that\naccessory labor of musical study and tuition which the organization of a\nchoir and the becoming celebration of the divine Office imply. The divine\nidea, in accordance with which sacred song has a fixed and determinate\nend to realize in the church, is the only way to account for this vast\nphenomenon in the history of Christendom. Nothing but an idea in the mind\nof God that sacred song is the living adjunct of the living truth, which\nthe Catholic Church was sent to teach, could have had the power to call\ninto being, not alone the rituals themselves and their song, but the\ninnumerable choirs of Christendom which have been gathered together and\ngoverned by a more than human wisdom of organization for the purpose of\ntheir celebration.\n\nBearing in mind, then, that sacred song is the combination of music with\nthe words of inspired truth, I propose, in the ensuing inquiry, to draw\na detailed comparison between the Roman liturgy and its traditional\nchant, on the one hand, and the works of the modern art of music, which\nconstitute the _corps de musique_, if I may use the expression now in\nuse, adapted as they are to parts of the liturgy, and in their own way\ncontributing to supply the want that is felt for sacred music; and this\nwith the view to ascertain, as far as may be, from the result of the\ncomparison, in which of the two the divine idea and intention is best\nanswered and fulfilled. The human mind will not, and indeed ought not to,\nsubmit to any mere human idea, but ought willingly to accept the idea of\nGod; and hence nothing but the divine idea, and this alone, is or can be\nthe key to the present inquiry.\n\n\nII\n\nTHE COMPARISON CARRIED INTO ITS DETAILS.\n\nIt has been already laid down that sacred song is the union of music\nto the words of inspired truth, with the view of its thus becoming an\nauxiliary in the work of Christian instruction and sanctification.\n\nBefore passing on to the approaching details let us stop for a moment\nfairly to consider the result of this principle as it affects the\ncomparison generally.\n\nHere, on the one hand, we have the _Canto Fermo_, with its vast variety\nof music, embracing an equally varied range in the stores of divine\nrevelation, inasmuch as it is the counterpart in song of the entire\nRitual; on the other hand we have the works of modern music, of which\nI am speaking, embracing scarcely more than a fraction of the Ritual.\nWith a vast numerical rather than a real variety in point of the one\nconstitutive element of sacred song--viz., music--they are poverty itself\nas regards the other--viz., inspired truth--the _Kyrie_, _Gloria_,\n_Credo_, _Sanctus_, and _Agnus Dei_, from the Ordinary of the Mass, and\na small number of hymns, antiphons, and scattered verses from the Holy\nScriptures, in the form of motets, being literally the sum-total of their\npossession in this element.\n\nAnd now to carry the comparison into its details. The divine idea of\nsacred song could not have been known to us without a revelation, the\nvery gift itself being, from its nature, the companion of a revelation.\nWe are not, therefore, as has been remarked in the introduction, thrown\nupon our own natural powers of speculation either for our general\nknowledge of the divine idea itself or for gaining an insight into its\nconstituent details; indeed, without revelation this would have been\naltogether beyond our natural capacities. But since God became man and\nfounded his own society, the Catholic Church, and both taught himself\nand placed inspired teachers in it to succeed him, the ideas of God as\nto questions that concern the welfare of his church have, through the\nIncarnation of the Son, been brought to the level of our capacities,\nand are to be found in the Scripture and in Christian theology, and are\nthere to be sought for as occasion may require. Thus examined, then,\nby the light of the Christian revelation, the divine idea of sacred\nsong will, without urging that these are co-extensive with it, admit\nof being resolved into the ensuing points; the truth of which will be\nproved separately, as they come forward successively in the course of the\ncomparison. They are as follows:\n\nI. Authority: 1, ecclesiastical; 2, moral.\n\nII. Claim to the completeness and order of a system.\n\nIII. Moral fitness: 1, as a sacrificial song; 2, as a song for the\noffices of the church.\n\nIV. Fitness for passing among the people as a congregational song.\n\nV. Moral influence in the formation of character.\n\nVI. The medium or vehicle for divine truth passing among the people.\n\nVII. Medicinal virtue.\n\nVIII. Capacities for durable popularity.\n\nIX. Security against abuse.\n\nX. Catholicity, or companionship of the Catholic doctrines over the globe.\n\nUpon these, then, the comparison may be now conducted.\n\nTO BE CONTINUED.\n\n\nNEW PUBLICATIONS.\n\n    THE INTERNAL MISSION OF THE HOLY GHOST. By Henry Edward,\n    Cardinal Archbishop of Westminster. New York: The Catholic\n    Publication Society. 1875.\n\nThose who have read the most eminent prelate\u2019s _Temporal Mission of\nthe Holy Ghost_ will know what a spiritual and intellectual feast is\nbefore them in the present work, \u201cwhich traces,\u201d says the author, in his\ndedicatory preface to the Oblates of S. Charles, \u201cat least the outline of\nthe same subject.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe former book,\u201d he explains, \u201cwas on the special office of the Holy\nGhost in the one visible church, which is the organ of his divine voice.\nThe present volume deals with the universal office of the Holy Ghost in\nthe souls of men. The former or special office dates from the Incarnation\nand the day of Pentecost; the latter or universal office dates from the\nCreation, and at this hour still pervades by its operations the whole\nrace of mankind. It is true to say with S. Iren\u00e6us, \u2018Ubi Ecclesia, ibi\nSpiritus--Where the church is, there is the Spirit\u2019; but it would not be\ntrue to say, Where the church is not, neither is the Spirit there. The\noperations of the Holy Ghost have always pervaded the whole race of men\nfrom the beginning, and they are now in full activity even among those\nwho are without the church; for God \u2018will have all men to be saved and\nto come to the knowledge of the truth.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cI have, therefore,\u201d he continues, \u201cin this present volume, spoken of\nthe universal office of which every living man has shared and does share\nat this hour; and I have tried to draw the outline of our individual\nsanctification.\u201d\n\nAnd then, after expressing a hope that the Oblate Fathers may be \u201cstirred\nup to edit in one volume\u201d certain great treatises, patristic and\nscholastic, on the Holy Ghost and his gifts, as \u201ca precious store for\nstudents and for preachers\u201d--a wish in which we most heartily concur--he\ngoes on to say:\n\n\u201cMy belief is that these topics have a special fitness in the XIXth\ncentury. They are the direct antidote both of the heretical spirit\nwhich is abroad and of the unspiritual and worldly mind of so many\nChristians. The presence of the Holy Ghost in the church is the source\nof its infallibility; the presence of the Holy Ghost in the soul is the\nsource of its sanctification. These two operations of the same Spirit\nare in perfect harmony. The test of the spiritual man is his conformity\nto the mind of the church. _Sentire cum Ecclesia_, in dogma, discipline,\ntraditions, devotions, customs, opinions, sympathies, is the countersign\nthat the work in our hearts is not from the diabolical spirit nor from\nthe human, but from the divine.\u201d\n\nAnd again:\n\n\u201cIt would seem to me that the development of error has constrained the\nchurch in these times to treat especially of the third and last clause\nof the Apostles\u2019 Creed: \u2018I believe in the Holy Ghost, the Holy Catholic\nChurch, the Communion of Saints.\u2019 The definitions of the Immaculate\nConception of the Mother of God, of the Infallibility of the Vicar of\nChrist, bring out into distinct relief the twofold office of the Holy\nGhost, of which one part is his perpetual assistance in the church; the\nother, his sanctification of the soul, of which the Immaculate Conception\nis the first-fruits and the perfect examplar.\n\n\u201cThe living consciousness which the Catholic Church has that it is the\ndwelling place of the Spirit of Truth and the organ of his voice seems to\nbe still growing more and more vividly upon its pastors and people as the\nnations are falling away.\u201d\n\nThe work consists of seventeen chapters. The first two are headed\nrespectively \u201cGrace the Work of a Person,\u201d and \u201cSalvation by Grace.\u201d\nThen follow three on the virtues of faith, hope, and charity. The sixth\ntreats of \u201cThe Glory of Sons.\u201d From the seventh to the fourteenth we have\nthe \u201cSeven Gifts of the Holy Ghost.\u201d The fifteenth is on \u201cThe Fruits\nof the Spirit\u201d; the sixteenth on \u201cThe Beatitudes.\u201d The last chapter\ndeals with \u201cDevotion to the Holy Ghost.\u201d We must refrain from making\ncitations from these chapters; for if we once began, we should find\nit very difficult to stop. But we would draw special attention to the\nninth chapter, on the \u201cGift of Piety,\u201d and again to the seventeenth, on\n\u201cDevotion to the Holy Ghost.\u201d This devotion is one we have very much at\nheart; for none, we are persuaded, can so help us to realize the presence\nof God with and in us, and also the intimacy and tenderness of his love.\nWe believe, with the Ven. Grignon de Montfort, that devotion to the Holy\nGhost is to have a special growth, in union with devotion to his spouse,\nOur Lady, in these last times of the church.\n\nWe commend, then, this beautiful book to our readers as one of the most\nvaluable and at the same time delightful it can ever be their lot to\nstudy. The happy language and luminous style of the author make his\nworks intelligible to the ordinary mind beyond those of most theological\nwriters. We trust that every encouragement will be given to the\ncirculation of this work in America.\n\nWe have but to add that this is the only authorized American edition\nof the work, having been printed from duplicate sets of the stereotype\nplates of the London publishers.\n\n    MARY, STAR OF THE SEA; or, A Garland of Living Flowers Culled\n    from the Divine Scriptures and Woven to the Honor of the Holy\n    Mother of God. A Story of Catholic Devotion. New York: The\n    Catholic Publication Society. 1875.\n\nIt is scarcely necessary to say aught in praise of so old and\nwell-established a favorite as this, further than to mention that the\nabove is identical with the new and handsome London edition containing\nthe corrections and additions of the author. The original edition,\npublished in 1847, has been some time out of print, and the English\nmarket was supplied from this country until the American plates were\nconsumed in the Boston fire.\n\nThis is not like the common run of stories; the story is only a\nslender thread, on which the garland of flowers culled by the pious\nand gifted author in honor of the Most Holy Virgin Mary is strung.\nThe style is subdued, poetic, and devout, and there is just enough of\ndramatic personality and incident to relieve the mind and interest\nthe imagination, while the reader follows the current of thought and\nreflection and pious sentiment which chiefly demands his attention.\n\nWe are now authorized to state that this work, which has heretofore\nappeared anonymously, was written by Edward Healy Thompson, A.M., so\nfavorably known by the Library of Religious Biography, embracing Lives\nof SS. Aloysius and Stanislaus Kostka, Anna Maria Taigi, etc., published\nunder his editorial and authorial supervision.\n\nThis work is admirably adapted, both in matter and mechanical execution,\nfor premium purposes at the coming examinations.\n\n    ADHEMAR DE BELCASTEL; or, Be Not Hasty in Judging. Translated\n    from the French by P. S., Graduate of S. Joseph\u2019s, Emmettsburg.\n    New York: The Catholic Publication Society. 1875.\n\nHere is another book fit for a prize for those who win examination\nhonors, for which the youthful recipients will doubtless be duly\ngrateful. It is brought out in the usual tasteful style of the Society\u2019s\npublications.\n\n    A TRACT FOR THE MISSIONS, ON BAPTISM AS A SACRAMENT IN THE\n    CATHOLIC CHURCH. By Rev. M. S. Gross. New York: The Catholic\n    Publication Society. 1875.\n\nThe author\u2019s design in this publication is to \u201ctreat, first, of the\nvalid manner of baptizing and the effect of baptism, as a sacrament of\nthe Catholic Church; and, secondly, of the necessity of baptism for all\npersons, infants as well as adults.\u201d\n\n    THE VATICAN DECREES AND CIVIL ALLEGIANCE.\n\n    THE TRUE AND FALSE INFALLIBILITY.\n\nThe Catholic Publication Society has collected into two volumes the most\nprominent pamphlets written in answer to Mr. Gladstone\u2019s _Expostulation_\nand _Vaticanism_, and of those having a bearing on the controversy. The\nfirst-named of these volumes embraces Cardinal Manning\u2019s _The Vatican\nDecrees in their Bearing on Civil Allegiance_; Dr. Newman\u2019s _A Letter\nAddressed to the Duke of Norfolk_, and the _Postscript_ to the same;\ntogether with the _Decrees and Canons of the Vatican Council_. The second\nincludes _The True and False Infallibility_ of Bishop Fessler; _Mr.\nGladstone\u2019s Expostulation Unravelled_, by Bishop Ullathorne; _Submission\nto a Divine Teacher_, by Bishop Vaughan; _The Syllabus for the People_:\na review of the propositions condemned by his Holiness Pius IX., with\ntext of the condemned list, by a monk of S. Augustine\u2019s, Ramsgate. The\nworks composing these volumes have already been separately noticed in our\npages. The present editions are printed on superior paper and are very\nconvenient in form for preservation and reference.\n\n    PAPARCHY AND NATIONALITY. By Dr. Joseph P. Thompson. Pamphlet.\n    Reprinted from the _British Quarterly Review_.\n\nIt is a very repulsive spectacle to behold when an American citizen\nprostrates himself before a perfidious, unscrupulous brutal tyrant\nlike Bismarck. For a descendant and representative of the Puritans it\nis an utter denial and abandonment of his own cause and the historical\nposition of his own sect. The noble attitude and language of some of the\ndistinguished Protestants of Prussia ought to put to shame this recreant\nAmerican.\n\n    CRITERION; or, How to Detect Error and Arrive at Truth. By\n    Rev. J. Balmes. Translated by a Catholic Priest. New York: P.\n    O\u2019Shea. 1875.\n\nWe wish our reverend friend had told us his name, that we might know whom\nto thank for this excellent translation of a work written by one who is\nhigh in rank among the modern glories of the priesthood in Catholic\nSpain and Europe. Balmes had his mind saturated with S. Thomas, and he\npossessed an admirable gift for rendering the doctrine of the Angelical\nPhilosopher of Aquin intelligible and attractive to ordinary readers.\nThe _Criterion_ is an eminently intellectual and at the same time a most\npractical treatise. The study and practice of its maxims and instructions\nare fitted to make one wise both in the affairs of this life and those\nconnected more immediately with the perfection and salvation of the soul.\nWe beg of the translator to give us some more choice reading of the same\nquality.\n\n    THE LIFE OF FATHER BERNARD. By Canon Claessens, of the\n    Cathedral of Malines. Translated from the French. New York: The\n    Catholic Publication Society. 1875.\n\nThe many persons who remember the celebrated Father Bernard, Provincial\nof the Redemptorists in the United States, and director of a great many\nof the missions given by his subjects from the year 1851, will be pleased\nto read this biography. Father Bernard was a man of remarkable gifts\nand very thorough, solid learning, but still more eminent for apostolic\nzeal and personal sanctity. The late Archbishop Hughes had a very great\nveneration for him, and said of him, in his terse, emphatic style, which\nhad more weight as he very seldom employed it in the praise of men:\n\u201cFather Bernard is a man of God.\u201d Besides the labors of a long life, he\ndevoted a large fortune which he inherited to the service of religion.\nHe was more celebrated in the Low Countries, as a preacher in the French\nand Flemish languages, than in the United States and Ireland, where he\nwas obliged to make use of German and English. The biography is very\ninteresting, and gives a full account of the earlier and later periods\nof Father Bernard\u2019s life and his holy death, which occurred at Wittem,\nSeptember 2, 1865, at the age of 58. The history of his administration\nof the province of the United States is meagre, although this was the\nmost distinguished and useful portion of his public career. The appendix\ncontains an amusing letter describing the voyage of Father Bernard and\na band of Redemptorists from Liverpool to New York. Father Hecker and\nFather Walworth came back on this occasion; and immediately afterwards,\nduring the Lent of 1851, the mission of S. Joseph\u2019s, New York, was given,\nwhich is famous and remembered even now. Father Bernard\u2019s American\nfriends will be specially interested in the history of the closing scenes\nof his life. His death was like that of the saints; and we may say\nwithout exaggeration that he was in every way one of the worthiest of\nthe sons of his great father, S. Alphonsus, who have adorned the annals\nof the Congregation he founded. The portrait at the head of the volume,\nthough not admirable as a work of art, is strikingly faithful to the\noriginal.\n\n    BRIEF BIOGRAPHIES. English Statesmen. Prepared by Thomas\n    Wentworth Higginson. New York: Putnams. 1875.\n\nWe all know the charm of Col. Higginson\u2019s style, and are familiar with\nhis many spirited sketches of scenes and men. Of course we expect a\ntreat when we open a book which bears his name, and the readers of the\nvery choice, elegant little volume before us will not be disappointed.\nGladstone, Disraeli, Bright, the Duke of Argyll, Lord Cairns, and a\nnumber of other prominent English statesmen, are drawn to the life, and\nnumbers of sparkling anecdotes, bits of eloquent speech, and witticisms\nare interspersed. It is a very readable book and extremely lively and\npiquant.\n\n    A LECTURE ON SCHOOL EDUCATION AND SCHOOL SYSTEMS. Delivered\n    before the Catholic Central Association of Cleveland, Ohio, by\n    Rt. Rev. B. J. McQuaid, D.D., Bishop of Rochester. Cleveland:\n    _Catholic Universe_ office. 1875.\n\n    OUR PUBLIC SCHOOLS; ARE THEY FREE FOR ALL, OR ARE THEY NOT? A\n    lecture delivered by Hon. Edmund F. Dunne, Chief-Justice of\n    Arizona, in the Hall of Representatives, Tucson, Arizona. San\n    Francisco: Cosmopolitan Printing Co. 1875.\n\nThe Catholic Association of Cleveland, we have heard, is an energetic\nbody, and exercised an active influence in securing the passage of\nthe bill lately passed by the Ohio Legislature securing the rights\nof Catholics to the free exercise of religion in prisons and State\ninstitutions. The Bishop of Rochester and his immediate neighbor, the\nBishop of Buffalo, are among the most efficient of our prelates in\npromoting Catholic education; and the pamphlet of the first-mentioned\nprelate, the title of which is given at the head of this notice, is a new\nproof of his zeal and ability in this important controversy.\n\nThe lecture of Chief Justice Dunne is a well-reasoned document, written\nin a plain, direct, and popular style--that of a lawyer who both\nunderstands his subject and the way of presenting it to an audience which\nwill make them understand it.\n\n    HOW TO MAKE A LIVING. Suggestions upon the Art of Making,\n    Saving, and Using Money. By George Carey Eggleston. New York:\n    Putnams. 1875.\n\nThis very small and neat book contains a great many practical and\nsensible suggestions.\n\n    THE STORY OF A CONVERT. By B. W. Whitcher, A.M. New York: P.\n    O\u2019Shea. 1875.\n\nThose who have read the _Widow Bedott Papers_ have not forgotten that\nhumorous and extremely satirical production. The authorship of this\nclever _jeu d\u2019esprit_ was in common between Mr. Whitcher and his former\nwife, a lady who died many years ago. Something of the piquant flavor\nof that early work is to be found in _The Story of a Convert_. It is,\nhowever, in the main, serious, argumentative, and remarkably plain and\nstraightforward. Mr. Whitcher was an Episcopalian minister. He became a\nCatholic from reading, conviction, and the grace of God, which, unlike\nmany others, he obeyed at a great sacrifice. He has, since that time,\nlived a laborious, self-denying, humble life as a Catholic layman; and\nhis arguments have therefore the weight of his good example to increase\ntheir force. The fidelity to conscience of such men is a severe reproach\nto the _dilettanti_ and amateur theologians who dabble for amusement in\npseudo-Catholicism, and are ready to sacrifice their consciences and\nto mislead others to their eternal perdition for the sake of worldly\nadvantages. This little book is one well worthy of circulation, and\nlikely to do a great deal of good. We notice that the author mentions\nthe name of McVickar among the converts from the General Theological\nSeminary. We have never heard of any convert of that name who was ever a\nstudent at this seminary, and we think Mr. Whitcher\u2019s memory must have\ndeceived him in this instance. We trust that this excellent little book\nwill find an extensive sale and the honesty of the author at least a few\nimitators.\n\n    THE ORPHAN\u2019S FRIEND, ETC. By A. A. Lambing, late Chaplain to S.\n    Paul\u2019s Orphan Asylum, Pittsburg. New York: D. & J. Sadlier &\n    Co. 1875.\n\nThis series of plain, simple instructions in religion and morals is\nintended, by a kind friend of the orphans, to be a guide to them when\nthey are sent forth into the world. The poor orphans certainly need all\nthe friends and all the sympathy and help they can get, and it was a good\nthought in the pious author to prepare this excellent little book.\n\n    THE OLD CHEST; or, The Journal of a Family of the French People\n    from the Merovingian Times to Our own Days. Translated from the\n    French by Anna T. Sadlier. New York: D. & J. Sadlier & Co. 1875.\n\n    THE STRAW-CUTTER\u2019S DAUGHTER, and THE PORTRAIT IN MY UNCLE\u2019S\n    DINING-ROOM. Two Stories. Edited by Lady Georgiana Fullerton.\n    Translated from the French. Same publishers.\n\nThe first of these pretty little volumes is quite unique in its idea. A\npicture is given of French life and manners at the different epochs of\nhistory, by a series of supposed narratives preserved and handed down\nfrom father to son in an old chest, which was bequeathed by the last of\nthe family to a friend, who published its contents. It is not so good in\nexecution as in conception; for, indeed, it would require the hand of a\nmaster to carry out such an idea successfully. Nevertheless it is quite\ninteresting and instructive reading.\n\nThe two stories of the second volume are romantic, tragic, vividly told,\nand quite original in conception.\n\n    ESSAYS ON CATHOLICISM, LIBERALISM, AND SOCIALISM, considered\n    in their fundamental principles. By J. D. Cortes, Marquis of\n    Valdegamas. Translated from the Spanish by Rev. W. McDonald,\n    A.B., S.Th.L., Rector of the Irish College, Salamanca. Dublin:\n    W. B. Kelly. 1874. (New York: Sold by The Catholic Publication\n    Society.)\n\nWe do not ordinarily feel called upon to speak of _new editions_, but in\nthe present instance the book under notice is also a new translation of\na valuable work. These _Essays_ were translated by an accomplished lady\nin this country several years since; but as the work was not issued by a\nCatholic house, it may have escaped the attention of many of our readers\nwho would be glad to make its acquaintance. We perceive that the original\nwork was submitted to the approval of one of the Benedictine theologians\nat Solesmes, and that Canon Torre Velez has, in an appreciative\nintroduction, discussed the plan and analysis of the work, so that the\nreader is pretty well certified of the value and correctness of the\nopinions advanced.\n\nThe title of the first chapter, \u201cHow a great question of theology is\nalways involved in every great political question,\u201d shows what a direct\nbearing the work has on topics of permanent interest.\n\nWe have a special reason for wishing that this and similar works may be\nwidely known, in the fact that Spain--intellectually, more, perhaps, than\nphysically--is so much a _terra incognita_ to the rest of the world.\n\n    DOMUS DEI: A Collection of Religious and Memorial Poems. By\n    Eleanor C. Donnelly. Philadelphia: Peter F. Cunningham & Son.\n    1875.\n\nThis volume is published \u201cfor the benefit of the Church of S. Charles\nBorromeo,\u201d in course of erection at Philadelphia. The authoress is\nalready before the public.\n\nAmong the \u201creligious\u201d poems is one entitled \u201cBernadette at the Grotto of\nLourdes.\u201d They are all pleasant reading. The \u201cmemorial\u201d poems, again,\nwill be considered by many the choicest part of the book.\n\nWe wish the volume an extensive patronage.\n\n\nTHE IRISH WORLD.\n\nIt is not customary nor ordinarily proper for a magazine to engage\nin controversies which are waged among newspapers. Nevertheless, the\none in which the _Irish World_ is engaging itself with a considerable\nnumber of our Catholic newspapers is of such unusual importance and\nviolence that we trust we may be permitted to make a few remarks upon it.\nDisunion, division of sentiment founded on differences of nationality\nand race, extreme partisan contests on any pretext whatever, and violent\nhostilities, among those who profess the Catholic religion, especially\njust at this time and in this country, are to be deprecated as more\ninjurious to the cause of the faith and church of God than any amount\nof opposition from professed enemies of the Catholic religion. These\ncan only be avoided by adopting and following out pure and perfect\nCatholic principles In all things whatsoever, and making the Catholic\nrule of submission to lawful authority, and conformity to the Catholic\ntradition, the Catholic spirit, and the common-sense which pervades the\nwhole body of sound, loyal, hearty Catholics everywhere, without any\nexception or reservation, the standard of judgment and the law of action.\nIt is necessary to be first a Catholic and afterwards French, German,\nAmerican, English, or Irish, as the case may be; to be first of all\nsure that we understand and receive the teaching and the spirit of the\nCatholic Church, in theology, philosophy, morals, politics, and that we\nmake her rights and interests, her advancement and glory, the spiritual\nand eternal good of the whole human race, the triumph of Jesus Christ,\nand the glory of God, paramount to everything. Secondary interests, and\nideas, opinions, projects, which spring merely from private conviction\nor characterize nationalities, schools, parties, associations of human\norigin, should always be subordinate and be kept under the control of the\nhigher principles of Catholic unity, charity, and enlightened regard for\nthe rights of all men. This is the only true liberality. Liberalism, as\nit is called, which is nothing else than the detestable, anti-Christian\nRevolution, destroys all this by subverting the principle of order, which\nalone secures harmony, a just equality, and the rights of all. What is\ncalled Catholic liberalism, and has been denounced by Pius IX. as more\ndangerous and mischievous among Catholics than any open heresy could be,\nis a system of independence of Catholic authority, and of separation from\nthe Catholic common doctrine and sentiment, of disrespect, disloyalty,\nirreverence, disobedience, and opposition to the hierarchy and the Holy\nSee, in those things which are not categorically defined as articles of\nfaith, yet, nevertheless, are doctrinally or practically determined by\nauthority.\n\nWe have not been in much danger in this country from any clique of\necclesiastical and theological liberals. But the line adopted by the\n_Irish World_ shows an imminent danger from another quarter. The\neditor professes submission to the authority of the Catholic Church in\nrespect to the faith, and those precepts of religion and morals which\nare essential. We give him credit for sincerity and honesty and for\ngood intentions. These are not, however, sufficient guarantees against\nprinciples and opinions which are erroneous, logically incompatible\nwith doctrines of faith, tending to subvert faith in the minds of his\nreaders, and producing an irreverent and disloyal spirit contrary to the\ntrue Christian and Catholic submission and respect to the prelates and\nthe priesthood which is commanded by the law of God. If the respected\ngentleman who edits the _Irish World_ desires to employ his talents and\nzeal to a really noble and useful purpose, with success and honor, for\nthe spiritual and temporal welfare of men of his own race and religion,\nwe recommend to him, in a friendly spirit, to modify some of his ideas\nin a more Catholic sense, and to take counsel from those who understand\nthoroughly the doctrine and spirit of the Catholic Church. Much greater\nmen than any of us--Jansenius, De Lamennais, D\u00f6llinger, and a host\nof others--began by professing to be Catholics in _faith_. But they\npreferred their own private notions in respect to certain reforms in\ndoctrine, discipline or morals, and politics, which they considered to be\nnecessary and important, to the judgment of their spiritual rulers and\nthe common Catholic sense. Their end was in heresy or apostasy, and they\nmisled to their ruin those who followed them. We trust we shall be spared\nthe misfortune of seeing a falling away from the faith of any part of the\nCatholic race of Ireland, either at home or in other countries. They are\nin no danger of perversion to Protestantism, nor are they at present\nassailable by open and avowed enemies of religion. It is by hidden poison\nonly that they can be gradually infected and destroyed. This poison must\ndisguise itself in some way as Liberal Catholicism. This is precisely\nthe lurking poison which the unerring Catholic instinct has detected in\nthe specious, pseudo-Christian, pseudo-Scriptural, pseudo-Catholic, and\npseudo-Irish communism into which the conductors of the _Irish World_\nhave been unwittingly betrayed. A journal so extensively circulated must\nnecessarily, unless purged from this foreign and noxious element, do a\ngreat deal of harm. If the good sense, honesty, and Catholic faith of\nits editors are strong enough to free them from the specious illusions\nof Liberalism, the _Irish World_ is in a condition to exert a very great\nand extensive influence for good, and we shall heartily wish it success.\nWe approve of the free and generous activity of laymen in associations\nand through the press. Nevertheless, the great liberty enjoyed by them\nis liable to misdirection, and it is very necessary to guard against\ndisorders which may spring from its abuse.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\u201cSacerdos\u201d is requested to send his address to the editor of THE CATHOLIC\nWORLD, who will be happy to answer his note in a private letter.\n\n\nBOOKS AND PAMPHLETS RECEIVED.\n\n    From G. P. PUTNAM\u2019S Sons: The Maintenance of Health. By J. M.\n    Fothergill, M.D. 12mo, pp. 362. Protection and Free Trade. By\n    Isaac Butts, 12mo, pp. 190. Religion as affected by Modern\n    Materialism. 18mo, pp. 68.\n\n    From KELLY, PIET & CO.: Meditations of the Sisters of Mercy,\n    before the Renewal of Vows. By the late Rt. Rev. Dr. Grant,\n    Bishop of Southwark (Reprinted from an unpublished edition of\n    1863.) 18mo, pp. 116.\n\n    From R. WASHBOURNE, London: Rome and Her Captors. Letters\n    collected by Count Henry D\u2019Ideville. 1875. 12mo, pp. 236.\n\n    From D. & J. SADLIER & CO., New York: The Month of S. Joseph;\n    or, Exercises for each day of the month of March. By the Rt.\n    Rev. M. de Langalerie, Bishop of Belley. 1875.\n\n    From BURNS & OATES, London: Jesus Christ, the Model of the\n    Priest. From the Italian, by the Rt. Rev. Mgr. Patterson. 24mo,\n    pp. 103.\n\n    From MCGLASHAN & GILL, Dublin: The History of the Great Irish\n    Famine of 1847. By the Rev. J. O\u2019Rourke. 12mo, pp. xxiv., 559.\n\n    From LEE & SHEPARD, Boston: The Island of Fire. By Rev. P. C.\n    Headley. 12mo, pp. 339.\n\n    From THE CATHOLIC PUBLICATION SOCIETY, New York: The Spirit of\n    Faith; or, What must I do to Believe? Five Lectures, delivered\n    at S. Peter\u2019s, Cardiff, by the Rt. Rev. Bishop Hedley. O.S.B.\n    12mo, pp. 104.\n\n\n\n\nTHE CATHOLIC WORLD.\n\nVOL. XXI., No. 124.--JULY, 1875.\n\nEntered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1875. by Rev. I. T.\nHECKER, in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C.\n\n\nSPACE.\n\nI.\n\nMathematicians admit three kinds of continuous quantities, viz., the\nquantity of space measured by local movement, the quantity of time\nemployed in the movement, and the quantity of change in the intensity\nof the movement. Thus all continuity, according to them, depends on\nmovement; so that, if there were no continuous movement, nothing could\nbe conceived as continuous. The ancient philosophers generally admitted,\nand many still admit, a fourth kind of continuous quantity, viz., the\nquantity of matter; but it is now fully demonstrated that bodies of\nmatter are not, and cannot be, materially continuous, even in their\nprimitive molecules, and that therefore the quantity of matter is not\ncontinuous, but consists of a discrete number of primitive material\nunits. Hence, matter is not divisible _in infinitum_, and gives no\noccasion to infinitesimal quantities, except inasmuch as the volumes, or\nquantities of space, occupied (not filled) by matter are conceived to\nkeep within infinitesimal dimensions. We may, therefore, be satisfied\nthat space, time, and movement alone are continuous and infinitely\ndivisible, and that the continuity of space and time, as viewed by the\nmathematicians, is essentially connected with the continuity of movement.\nBut space measured by movement is a _relative_ space, and time--that is,\nthe duration of movement--is a _relative_ duration; and since everything\nrelative presupposes something absolute which is the source of its\nrelativity, we are naturally brought to inquire what is _absolute_ space\nand _absolute_ duration; for, without the knowledge of the absolute, the\nrelative can be only imperfectly understood. Men of course daily speak\nof time and of space, and understand what they say, and are understood\nby others; but this does not show that they know the intimate nature, or\ncan give the essential definition, of either time or space. S. Augustine\nasks: \u201cWhat is time?\u201d and he answers: \u201cWhen no one asks me, I know what\nit is; but when you ask me, I know not.\u201d The same is true of space.\nWe know what it is; but it would be hard to give its true definition.\nAs, however, a true notion of space and time and movement cannot but\nbe of great service in the elucidation of some important questions of\nphilosophy, we will venture to investigate the subject, in the hope\nthat by so doing we may contribute in some manner to the development\nof philosophical knowledge concerning the nature of those mysterious\nrealities which form the conditions of the existence and vicissitudes of\nthe material world.\n\n_Opinions of Philosophers about Space._--Space is usually defined \u201ca\ncapacity of bodies,\u201d and is styled \u201cfull\u201d when a body actually occupies\nthat capacity, \u201cvoid,\u201d or \u201cempty,\u201d when no body is actually present\nin it. Again, a space which is determined by the presence of a body,\nand limited by its limits, is called \u201creal,\u201d whilst the space which is\nconceived to extend beyond the limits of all existing bodies is called\n\u201cimaginary.\u201d\n\nWhether this definition and division of space is as correct as it is\ncommon, we shall examine hereafter. Meanwhile, we must notice that there\nis a great disagreement among philosophers in regard to the reality\nand the essence of space. Some hold, with Descartes and with Leibnitz,\nthat space is nothing else than the extension of bodies. Others hold\nthat space is something real, and really distinct from the bodies by\nwhich it is occupied. Some, as Clarke, said that space is nothing but\nGod\u2019s immensity, and considered the parts of space as parts of divine\nimmensity. F\u00e9nelon taught that space is virtually contained in God\u2019s\nimmensity, and that immensity is nothing but unlimited extension--which\nlast proposition is much criticised by Balmes[115] on the ground that\nextension cannot be conceived without parts, whereas no parts can be\nconceived in God\u2019s immensity.\n\nLessius, in his much-esteemed work on God\u2019s perfections, after having\nshown (contrary to the opinion of some of his contemporaries) that God\nby his immensity exists not only within but also without the world, puts\nto himself the following objection: \u201cSome will say, How can God be in\nthose spaces outside the skies, since no spaces are to be found there\nwhich are not fictitious and imaginary?\u201d To which he answers thus: \u201cWe\ndeny that there are not outside of the whole world any true intervals\nor spaces. If air or light were diffused throughout immensity outside\nof the existing world, there would certainly be true spaces everywhere;\nand in the same manner, if there is a Spirit filling everything outside\nof this world, there will be true and real spaces, not corporeal but\nspiritual, which, however, will not be really distinct from one another,\nbecause a Spirit does not extend through space by a distribution of\nparts, but fills it, so to say, by its totalities.\u2026 Hence, when we say\nthat God is outside of the existing world, and filling infinite spaces,\nor that God exists in imaginary spaces, we do not mean that God exists\nin a fictitious and chimerical thing, nor do we mean that he exists in a\nspace really distinct from his own being; but we mean that he exists in\nthe space which his immensity formally extends, and to which an infinite\ncreated space may correspond.\u2026 We may therefore distinguish space into\n_created_, _uncreated_, and _imaginary_. Created space embraces the whole\ncorporeal extension of the material world. Uncreated space is nothing\nless than divine immensity itself, which is the primitive, intrinsic, and\nfundamental space, on the existence of which all other spaces depend, and\nwhich by reason of its extension is equivalent to all possible corporeal\nspaces, and eminently contains them all. Imaginary space is that which\nour imagination suggests to us as a substitute for God\u2019s immensity, which\nwe are unable to conceive in any other wise. For, just as we cannot\nconceive God\u2019s eternity without imagining infinite time, so neither can\nwe conceive God\u2019s immensity without imagining infinite space.\u201d[116]\n\nBoscovich, in his _Theory of Natural Philosophy_, defines space as \u201can\ninfinite possibility of ubications,\u201d but he does not say anything in\nregard to the manner of accounting for such a possibility. Others, as\nCharleton, were of opinion that real space is constituted by the real\nubication of material things, and imaginary space by the actual negation\nof real ubications.\n\nAmong the modern authors, Balmes, with whom a number of other\nphilosophers agree on this subject, gives us his theory of space in the\nfollowing propositions:\n\n\u201c1st. Space is nothing but the extension of bodies themselves.\n\n\u201c2d. Space and extension are identical notions.\n\n\u201c3d. The parts which we conceive in space are particular extensions,\nconsidered as existing under their own limits.\n\n\u201c4th. The notion of infinite space is the notion of extension in all its\ngenerality--that is, as conceived by the abstraction of all limits.\n\n\u201c5th. Indefinite space is a figment of our imagination, which strives\nto follow the intellectual process of generalization by destroying all\nlimits.\n\n\u201c6th. Where no body exists, there is no space.\n\n\u201c7th. Distance is the interposition of a body, and nothing more.\n\n\u201c8th. If the body interposed vanishes, all distance vanishes, and\ncontiguity, or absolute contact, will be the result.\n\n\u201c9th. If there were two bodies only, they would not be distant; at least,\nwe could not intellectually conceive them as distant.\n\n\u201c10th. A vacuum, whether of a large or of a small extent, whether\naccumulated or scattered, is an absolute impossibility.\u201d[117]\n\nThese assertions form the substance of Balmes\u2019 theory of space. But he\nwisely adds: \u201cThe apparent absurdity of some of these conclusions, and\nof others which I shall mention hereafter, leads me to believe either\nthat the principle on which my reasonings rest is not altogether free\nfrom error, or that there is some latent blunder in the process of the\ndeduction.\u201d[118]\n\nLastly, to omit other suppositions which do not much differ from the ones\nwe have mentioned, Kant and his followers are of opinion that space is\nnothing but a subjective form of our mind, and an intuition _a priori_.\nHence, according to them, no real and objective space can be admitted.\n\nAmid this variety and discord of opinions, we can hardly hope to\nascertain the truth, and satisfy ourselves of its reality, unless we\nsettle a few preliminary questions. It is necessary for us to know,\nfirst, whether any vacuum is or is not to be admitted in nature; then, we\nmust know whether such a vacuum is or is not an objective reality. For,\nif it can be established that vacuum is mere nothingness, the consequence\nwill be that all real space is necessarily and essentially filled with\nmatter, as Balmes and others teach; if, on the contrary, it can be\nestablished that vacuum exists in nature, and has an objective reality,\nthen it will follow that the reality of space does not arise from the\npresence of bodies, and cannot be confounded with their extension. In\nthis case, Balmes\u2019 theory will fall to the ground, and we shall have\nto borrow from Lessius and F\u00e9nelon, if not the whole solution of the\nquestion, at least the main conceptions on which it rests.\n\n_Existence of Void Space._--The first thing we must ascertain is the\nexistence or non-existence of vacuum in nature. _Is there any space in\nthe world not occupied by matter?_\n\nOur answer must be affirmative, for many reasons. First, because without\nvacuum local movement would be impossible. In fact, since matter does not\ncompenetrate matter, no movement can take place in a space full of matter\nunless the matter which lies on the way gives room to the advancing\nbody. But such a matter cannot give room without moving; and it cannot\nmove unless some other portion of matter near it vacates its place to\nmake room for it. This other portion of matter, however, cannot make\nroom without moving; and it cannot move unless another portion of matter\nmakes room for it; and so on without end, or at least till we reach the\noutward limits of the material world. Hence, if there is no vacuum, a\nbody cannot begin to move before it has shaken the whole material world\nthroughout and compelled it to make room for its movement. Now, to make\nthe movement of a body dependent on such a condition is absurd; for the\ncondition can never be fulfilled. In fact, whilst the movement of the\nbody cannot begin before room is made for it, no room is made for it\nbefore the movement has begun; for it is by moving that the body would\ncompel the neighboring matter to give way. The condition is therefore\ncontradictory, and can never be fulfilled, and therefore, if there is no\nvacuum, no local movement is possible.\n\nSecondly, it has been proved in one of our articles on matter[119] that\nthere is no such thing in the world as material continuity, and that\ntherefore all natural bodies ultimately consist of simple and unextended\nelements. It is therefore necessary to admit that bodies owe their\nextension to the intervals of space intercepted between their primitive\nelements, and therefore there is a vacuum between all the material\nelements. This reason is very plain and cannot be questioned, as the\nimpossibility of continuous matter has been established by such evident\narguments as defy cavil.\n\nThirdly, bodies are compressible, and, when compressed, occupy less\nspace--that is, their matter or mass is reduced to a less volume.\nNow, such a reduction in the volume of a body does not arise from\nmaterial compenetration. It must therefore depend on a diminution of\nthe distances, or void intervals, between the neighboring particles of\nmatter.\n\nFourthly, it is well known that equal masses can exist under unequal\nvolumes, and _vice versa_--that is, equal quantities of matter may occupy\nunequal spaces, and unequal quantities of matter may occupy equal spaces.\nThis shows that one and the same space can be more or less occupied,\naccording as the density of the body is greater or less. But the same\nspace cannot be more or less occupied if there is no vacuum. For, if\nthere is no vacuum, the space is _entirely_ occupied by the matter,\nand does not admit of different degrees of occupation. It is therefore\nevident that without vacuum it is impossible to account for the specific\nweights and unequal densities of bodies.\n\nAgainst this, some may object that what we call \u201cvacuum\u201d may be full of\nimponderable matter, say, of ether, the presence of which cannot indeed\nbe detected by the balance, but is well proved by the phenomena of heat,\nelectricity, etc. To which we answer, that the presence of ether between\nthe molecules of bodies does not exclude vacuum; for ether itself is\nsubject to condensation and rarefaction, as is manifest by its undulatory\nmovements; and no condensation or rarefaction is possible without vacuum,\nas we have already explained.\n\nAnother objection against our conclusion may be the following: Simple\nelements, if they be attractive, can penetrate through one another, as\nwe infer from the Newtonian law of action. Hence, the possibility of\nmovement does not depend on the existence of vacuum. We answer, that\nthe objection destroys itself; for whoever admits simple and unextended\nelements, must admit the existence of vacuum, it being evident that no\nspace can be filled by unextended matter. We may add, that natural bodies\nand their molecules do not exclusively consist of attractive elements,\nbut contain a great number of repulsive elements, to which they owe their\nimpenetrability.\n\nThe ancients made against the existence of a vacuum another objection,\ndrawn from the presumed necessity of a true material contact for\nthe communication of movement. Vacuum, they said, is _contra bonum\nnatur\u00e6_--that is, incompatible with the requirements of natural order,\nfor it prevents the interaction of bodies. This objection need hardly\nbe answered, as it has long since been disposed of by the discovery of\nuniversal gravitation and of other physical truths. As we have proved in\nanother place that \u201cdistance is an essential condition of the action of\nmatter upon matter,\u201d[120] we shall say nothing more on this point.\n\n_Objective Reality of Vacuum._--The second thing we must ascertain\nis _whether space void of matter be a mere nothing, or an objective\nreality_. Though Balmes and most modern philosophers hold that vacuum is\nmere nothingness, we think with other writers that the contrary can be\nrigorously demonstrated. Here are our reasons.\n\nFirst, nothingness is not a region of movement. But vacuum is a region of\nmovement. Therefore, vacuum is not mere nothingness. The minor of this\nsyllogism is manifest from what we have just said about the impossibility\nof movement without vacuum, and the major can be easily proved. For,\nthe interval of space which is measured by movement may be greater or\nless, whilst it would be absurd to talk of a greater or a less nothing;\nwhich shows that vacuum cannot be identified with nothingness. Again,\nvoid space can be really occupied, whilst it would be absurd to say that\nnothingness is really occupied, for occupation implies the presence of\nthat which occupies in that which is occupied; hence, the occupation of\nnothingness would be the presence of a thing to nothing. But presence\nto nothing is no presence at all, just as relation to nothing is no\nrelation. And therefore, the occupation of void space, if vacuum were a\nmere nothing, would be an evident contradiction. Moreover, nothingness\nhas no real attributes, whereas real attributes are predicated of void\nspace. We find no difficulty in conceiving void space as infinite,\nimmovable, and virtually extended in all directions; whilst the\nconception of an extended nothing and of an infinite nothing is an utter\nimpossibility. Whence we conclude that space void of matter is not a mere\nnothing.\n\nSecondly, a mere nothing cannot be the foundation of a real relation:\nspace void of matter is the foundation of a real relation; therefore,\nspace void of matter is not a mere nothing. In this syllogism the\nmajor is quite certain; for all real relation has a real foundation,\nfrom which the correlated terms receive their relativity. Now, all\nreal foundation is something real. On the other hand, nothingness is\nnothing real. Therefore, a mere nothing cannot be the foundation of a\nreal relation. The minor proposition is no less certain, because space\nfounds the relation of distance between any two material points, which\nrelation is certainly real. In fact, that on account of which a distant\nterm is related to another distant term, is the possibility of movement\nfrom the one to the other--that is, the possibility of a series of\nsuccessive ubications between the two terms, without which no distance is\nconceivable. But the possibility of successive ubications is nothing else\nthan the successive occupability of space, or space as occupable. And\ntherefore, occupable space, or space void of matter, is the foundation of\na real relation, and accordingly is an objective reality.\n\nThirdly, if vacuum were mere nothingness, no real extension could be\nconceived as possible. For, since all bodies are ultimately composed of\nelements destitute of extension, as has been demonstrated at length in\nour articles on matter, and since the primitive elements cannot touch one\nanother mathematically without compenetration, the extension of bodies\ncannot be accounted for except by the existence of void intervals of\nspace between neighboring elements. But, if vacuum is a mere nothing,\nall void intervals of space are nothing, and nothing remains between\nthe neighboring elements; and if nothing remains between them, all the\nelements must be in mathematical contact, and therefore unite in a single\nindivisible point, as even Balmes concedes. Whence it is evident that the\nexistence of real extension implies the objective reality of vacuum. We\nconclude, therefore, that space void of matter is not a mere nothing, but\nan objective reality.\n\nAgainst this proposition some objections are made by the upholders of a\ndifferent doctrine. In the first place, distance, they say, is a mere\nnegation of contact; and since a mere negation is nothing, there is no\nneed of assuming that vacuum is a reality.\n\nWe answer, that, if distance were a mere negation of contact, there would\nbe no different distances; for the negation of contact does not admit\nof degrees, and cannot be greater or less. Distances may be, and are,\ngreater or less. Therefore, distance is not a mere negation of contact.\nThe negation of contact shows that the terms of the relation are distinct\nin space; for distinction in space is the negation of a common ubication.\nBut the distinction of the terms, though a necessary condition for the\nexistence of the relation, does not constitute it. Hence, the relation\nof distance presupposes, indeed, the distinction of the terms and the\nnegation of contact, but formally it results from a positive foundation\nby which the terms are linked together in this or that determinate\nmanner. If the interval between two material points were nothing, a\ngreater interval would be a greater nothing, and a less interval a less\nnothing. We presume that no philosopher can safely admit a doctrine which\nleads to such a conclusion.\n\nA second objection is as follows: It is possible to have distance without\nany vacuum between the distant terms. For, if the whole space between\nthose terms were full of matter, their distance would be all the more\nreal, without implying the reality of vacuum.\n\nWe answer, first, that, to fill space, continuous matter would be needed;\nand, as continuous matter has no existence in nature, no space can be\nfilled with matter so as to exclude real vacuum. We answer, secondly,\nthat, were it possible to admit continuous matter, filling the whole\ninterval of space between two distant terms, the reality of that\ninterval would still remain independent of the matter by which it is\nassumed to be filled; for matter is not space; and, on the other hand,\nif all the matter which is supposed to fill the interval be removed, the\ndistance between the terms will not vanish; which shows that the filling\nof space, even if it were not an impossible task, would not in the least\ncontribute to the constitution of real distances. Hence, space, even if\nit were assumed to be full of matter, would not found the relation of\ndistance by its fulness, but only by its being terminated to distinct\nterms, so as to leave room between them for a certain extension of local\nmovement.\n\nA third objection may be the following: True though it is that real\nattributes are predicated of void space, it does not follow that void\nspace is an objective reality. For, when we say that space, as such,\nis infinite, immovable, etc., we must bear in mind that we speak of a\npotential nature, and that those predicates are only potential. Again,\nthough we must admit that void space can be measured by movement, we know\nthat such a mensuration is not made by terms of space, but by terms of\nmatter. Lastly, although space is the capacity of receiving bodies, it\ndoes not follow that there is in space any receptive reality; for its\ncapacity is sufficiently accounted for by admitting that space becomes\nreal by its very occupation.[121]\n\nTo the first point of this objection we answer, that space may, perhaps,\nbe called a \u201cpotential nature\u201d in this sense, that it is susceptible of\nnew extrinsic denominations; but if by \u201cpotential nature\u201d the objector\nmeans to express a potency of being, and to convey the idea that such a\nnature is not real, then it is absolutely wrong to say that void space\nis a potential nature. Space is not in a state of possibility, and never\nhas been, as we shall presently show. Hence the predicates, _infinite_,\n_immovable_, etc., by which the nature of space is explained, express\nthe actual attributes of an actual reality. The author from whom we have\ntranscribed this objection says that such predicates of space are real,\nnot _objectively_, but only _subjectively_. He means, if we understand\nhim aright, that the reality of such predicates must be traced to the\nbodies which occupy space, not to space itself, and that, though we\nconceive those predicates to be real owing to the real bodies we see\nin space, yet they are not real in space itself. As for us, we cannot\nunderstand how \u201cto be _infinite_, to be _immovable_, to be _occupable_,\netc.,\u201d can be the property of any body which occupies space, or be the\nproperty of space, by reason of its occupation and not by reason of its\nown intrinsic nature. Space must be really occupable before it is really\noccupied; and nothing is really occupable which is not real, as we have\nalready established. Whence we conclude that this part of the objection,\nas confounding the possibility of occupation with the possibility of\nbeing, has no weight.\n\nTo the second point we answer, that the thing mensurable should not be\nconfounded with that by which it can be measured. Whatever may be the\nnature of the measure to be employed in measuring, no mensuration is\npossible unless the mensurable is really mensurable. Hence, no matter by\nwhat measure space is to be measured, it is always necessary to concede\nthat, if it is really measured, it is something real. The assertion that\nspace is measured \u201cby terms of matter\u201d can scarcely have a meaning.\nTerms, in fact, measure nothing, but are merely the beginning and the end\nof the thing measured. Space is measured by continuous movement, not by\nterms of matter; but before it is thus measured, it is mensurable; and\nits mensurability sufficiently shows its objective reality.[122]\n\nTo the third point of the objection we reply, that space is not a\n_subject_ destined to receive bodies; and therefore it is not to be\ncalled \u201ca capacity of _receiving_ bodies.\u201d Hence, we admit that space has\nno \u201creceptive\u201d reality. But there are realities which are not receptive,\nbecause they are not intrinsically potential; and such is the reality\nof space, as we shall hereafter explain. With regard to the assertion\nthat \u201cspace becomes real by its very occupation,\u201d we observe that, if\nspace void of matter is nothing, as the objection assumes, it is utterly\nimpossible that it become a reality by the presence of bodies in it. The\npresence of a body in space is a real relation of the body to the space\noccupied; and such a relation presupposes two real terms--that is, a\nreal body and a real space. If space, as such, is nothing, bodies were\ncreated in nothing, and occupy nothing. Their volumes will be nothings\nof different sizes, their dimensions nothings of different lengths, and\ntheir movements the measurement of nothing. It is manifest that real\noccupation presupposes real occupability, and real mensuration real\nmensurability; and, since mensurability implies quantity (_virtual_\nquantity, at least), to say that occupable and mensurable space is\nnothing, is to pretend that nothingness implies quantity--a thing which\nwe, at least, cannot understand. Moreover, to consider void space as\na potency of being, destined to become a reality through the presence\nof bodies, is no less a blunder than to admit that the absolute is\nnothing until it becomes relative, or to admit the relative without the\nabsolute. In fact, the space occupied by a body is a relative space,\nas its determination depends on the relative dimensions of the body.\nOn the other hand, the relative dimensions of the body are themselves\ndependent on space, for without space there are no dimensions; and the\nspace on which such relative dimensions depend must be a reality in\nitself, independently of the same dimensions, it being evident that\nthe dimensions of the body cannot bestow reality upon that which is\nthe source of their own reality. To say the contrary is to destroy the\nprinciple of causality, by making the absolute reality of the cause\ndependent on the reality of its effects. The assertion that \u201cthe absolute\nis nothing until it becomes relative,\u201d leads straight to Pantheism. If\nyou say that absolute space is nothing until it is occupied by bodies,\nand thus actuated and exhibited under determinate figures, the Pantheist\nwill say, with as much reason, that the absolute being is nothing until\nit is evolved in nature, and thus actuated and manifested under different\naspects. If you say that absolute space, as such, is but an imaginary\nconception, he will draw the inference that absolute being, as such,\nis similarly a mere figment of our brains. If you say that the only\nreality of space arises from its figuration and occupation, he will claim\nthe right of concluding, in like manner, that the only reality of the\nabsolute arises from its evolution and manifestation. We might dilate a\ngreat deal more on this parallel; for everything that the deniers of the\nreality of void space can say in support of their view can be turned to\naccount by the deniers of a personal God, and be made to serve the cause\nof German Pantheism--the manner of reasoning of the latter being exactly\nsimilar to that of the former. This is a point of great importance, and\nto which philosophers would do well to pay a greater attention than was\ndone in other times, if they admit, in the case of space, that \u201cthe\nabsolute is nothing until it becomes relative,\u201d they will have no right\nto complain of the Pantheistic applications of their own theory.\n\n_Vacuum unmade._--The third thing we have to ascertain is, _whether void\nspace, absolutely considered as to its reality, be created or uncreated_.\nThis point can be easily settled. Those who say that vacuum has no\nobjective reality have, of course, no alternative. For them, vacuum must\nbe uncreated. But they are probably not prepared to hear that we too, who\ndefend the reality of void space, do not differ from them in the solution\nof this question.\n\nTo prove that space void of matter is not created, the following plain\nreasons may be adduced. First, space void of matter is neither a material\nnor a spiritual creature. It is no material creature; for it excludes\nmatter. It is no spiritual creature; for, whether there be spiritual\ncreatures or not, it is necessary to admit occupable space.\n\nSecondly, no created thing is immovable, unchangeable, and unlimited.\nAbsolute space is evidently immovable, unchangeable, and unlimited.\nTherefore, absolute space is not a product of creation.\n\nThirdly, space considered absolutely as it is in itself, exhibits an\ninfinite and inexhaustible possibility of real ubications. But such a\npossibility is to be found nowhere but in God alone, in whom all possible\nthings have their formal possibility. And therefore, the reality of\nabsolute space is all in God alone; and accordingly, such a reality not\nonly is not, but could never be, created.\n\nFourthly, whatever is necessary, is uncreated and eternal. Space\nconsidered absolutely as it is in itself is something necessary.\nTherefore, absolute space is uncreated and eternal. The major of this\nsyllogism is evident; the minor is thus proved: Space absolutely\nconsidered is nothing else than the formal possibility of real\nubications; but the possibility of things contingent is necessary,\nuncreated, and eternal; for all contingent things are possible before\nany free act of the creator, since their intrinsic possibility does not\ndepend on God\u2019s volition, as Descartes imagined, but only on his essence\nas distinctly and comprehensively understood by the divine intellect.\n\nOur next proposition will afford a fifth proof of this conclusion.\nMeanwhile, we beg of our reader not to forget the restriction by which we\nhave limited our present question. We have spoken of space _absolutely\nconsidered_ as it is in itself--that is, of absolute space. Our\nconclusion, if applied to relative space, would not be entirely true; for\nrelative space implies the existence of at least two contingent terms,\nand therefore involves something created. We make this remark because men\nare apt to confound relative with absolute space, owing to the sensible\nrepresentations which always accompany our intellectual operations, and\nalso because we think that the philosophical difficulties encountered by\nmany writers in their investigation of the nature of space originated in\nthe latent and unconscious assumption that their imagination of relative\nspace was an intellectual concept of absolute space. It is thus that they\nwere led to consider all space void of matter as imaginary and chimerical.\n\n_Quiddity of Absolute Space._--It now remains for us to ascertain\n_the true nature of absolute space_, and to point out its essential\ndefinition. Our task will not be difficult after the preceding\nconclusions. If absolute space is an uncreated, infinite, eternal, and\nunchangeable reality, it must be implied in some of the attributes of\nGodhead. Now, the divine attribute in which the reason of all possible\nubications is contained, is immensity. Hence, absolute space is implied\nin God\u2019s immensity, and we shall see that it is nothing else than _the\nvirtuality or the extrinsic terminability_ of immensity itself.\n\nBefore we prove this proposition, we must define the terms _virtuality_\nand _terminability_. \u201cVirtuality\u201d comes from _virtus_ as formality from\n_forma_. Things that are actual owe their being to their form; hence,\nwhatever expresses some actual degree of entity is styled \u201ca formality.\u201d\nThus, personality, animality, rationality, etc., are formalities\nexhibiting the actual being of man under different aspects. Things, on\nthe contrary, that have no formal existence, but which may be made to\nexist, owe the possibility of their existence to the power (_virtus_) of\nthe _efficient cause_ of which they can be the effect, or to the nature\nof the _sufficient reason_ from which they may formally result. In both\ncases, the things in question are said to exist virtually, inasmuch\nas they are virtually contained in their efficient cause or in their\nsufficient reason. Hence, every efficient cause or sufficient reason, as\ncompared with the effects which it can produce or with the results of\nwhich it may be the foundation, is said to have \u201cvirtuality\u201d; for, the\nvirtuality of all producible effects, as of all resultable relations,\nis to be found nowhere but in their efficient cause and in their formal\nreason. Thus all active power has a virtuality extending to all the acts\nof which it may be the causality, and all formal reason has a virtuality\nextending to all the results of which it may be the foundation. God\u2019s\nomnipotence, for instance, virtually contains in itself the reality of\nall possible creatures, and therefore possesses an infinite virtuality.\nIn a similar manner, God\u2019s immensity has an infinite virtuality, as it\nvirtually contains all possible ubications, and is the reason of their\nformal resultability. Omnipotence has an infinite virtuality as an\n_efficient_ principle; immensity has an infinite virtuality as a _formal_\nsource only.\n\nThese remarks about virtuality go far to explain the word\n\u201cterminability.\u201d Whenever an efficient cause produces an effect, its\naction is terminated to an actuable term; hence, so long as the effect is\nnot produced, the power of the efficient cause is merely terminable. In\nthe same manner, whenever a formal reason gives rise to an actual result,\nand whenever a formal principle gives being to a potential term, there\nis a formal termination; and therefore, so long as the result, or the\nactual being, has no existence, its formal reason is merely terminable.\nHence, terminability has the same range as virtuality; for nothing that\nis virtually contained in an efficient or in a formal principle can pass\nfrom the virtual to the actual state except by the termination of an\nefficient or a formal act to a potential term.\n\nWe have said that absolute space is nothing else than the virtuality,\nor extrinsic terminability, of God\u2019s immensity. The first proof of this\nconclusion is as follows. Absolute space is the possibility of all real\nubications. But such a possibility is nothing else than the infinite\nvirtuality of God\u2019s immensity. Hence our conclusion. The major of our\nsyllogism is obviously true, and is admitted by all, either in the\nsame or in equivalent terms. The minor needs but little explanation;\nfor we have already seen that absolute space is an uncreated reality,\nand therefore is something connected with some divine attribute; but\nthe only attribute in which the possibility of all real ubications is\ncontained, is God\u2019s immensity. Hence, the possibility of real ubications\nis evidently nothing else than the extrinsic terminability of divine\nimmensity. In other terms, God\u2019s immensity, like other divine attributes,\nis not only an immanent perfection of the divine nature, by which God\nhas his infinite ubication in himself, but also the source and the\neminent reason of all possible ubications, because it contains them all\n_virtually_ in its boundless expanse. Hence, the infinite virtuality\nof God\u2019s immensity is one and the same thing with the possibility of\ninfinite ubications. And, therefore, absolute space is nothing but the\nvirtuality of divine immensity.\n\nLet the reader take notice that divine immensity is, with regard to\nabsolute space, the _remote principle_, or, as the Schoolmen would say,\nthe _principium quod_, whilst the virtuality or extrinsic terminability\nof divine immensity is the _proximate principle_, or the _principium\nquo_. Hence, it would not be altogether correct to say that absolute\nspace is nothing but God\u2019s immensity; for, as we call \u201cspace\u201d that in\nwhich contingent beings can be ubicated, it is evident that the formal\nnotion of space essentially involves the connotation of something\nexterior to God; and such a connotation is not included in divine\nimmensity as such, but only inasmuch as it virtually pre-contains all\npossible ubications. And for this reason the infinite virtuality of God\u2019s\nimmensity constitutes the formal ratio of absolute space. It is in this\nsense that we should understand Lessius when he says: \u201cThe immensity of\nthe divine substance is to itself and to the world a sufficient space:\nit is an expanse capable of all producible nature, whether corporeal or\nspiritual. For, as the divine essence is the first essence, the origin of\nall essences and of all conceivable beings, so is the divine immensity\nthe first and self-supporting expanse or space, the origin of all\nexpanse, and the space of all spaces, the place of all places, and the\nprimordial seat and basis of all place and space.\u201d[123]\n\nThe second proof of our conclusion may be the following. Let us imagine\nthat all created things be annihilated. In such a case, there will remain\nnothing in space, and there will be an end of all contingent occupation,\npresence, or ubication. Yet, since God will remain in his immensity,\nthere will remain that infinite reality which contains in its expanse\nthe possibility of infinite contingent ubications; for there will remain\nGod\u2019s immensity with all its extrinsic terminability. In fact, God would\nnot cease to be in those places where the creatures were located; the\nonly change would be this, that those places, by the annihilation of\ncreatures, would lose the contingent denominations which they borrowed\nfrom the actual presence of creatures in them, and thus all those\nubications would cease to be _formal_, and would become _virtual_. It is\nplain, therefore, that the reality of void space must be accounted for\nby the fact that, after the annihilation of all creatures, there remains\nGod\u2019s immensity, whose infinite virtuality is equivalent to infinite\nvirtual ubications. Hence, space void of matter, but filled with God\u2019s\nsubstance, can be nothing else than the infinite virtuality of divine\nimmensity.\n\nA third proof of our conclusion, and a very plain one, can be drawn from\nGod\u2019s creative power. Wherever God is, he can create a material point;\nand wherever a material point can be placed, there is space; for space is\nthe region where material things can be ubicated. Now, God is everywhere\nby his immensity; and therefore, everywhere there is the possibility of\nubicating a material point--that is, absolute space has the same range\nas God\u2019s immensity. On the other hand, there is no doubt that a material\npoint, by being ubicated in absolute space, is constituted in God\u2019s\npresence, and is thus related to God\u2019s immensity; and this relation\nimplies the extrinsic termination of God\u2019s immensity. Therefore, the\nubication of a material point in space is the extrinsic termination of\ndivine immensity; whence it follows that the possibility of ubications is\nnothing but the extrinsic terminability of the same immensity.\n\nThe fourth proof of our conclusion consists in showing that none of\nthe other known opinions about space can be admitted. First, as to the\n_subjective form_ imagined by Kant, we cannot believe that it has any\nphilosophical claim to adoption, as it evidently defies common sense,\nand is supported by no reasons. \u201cKant,\u201d says Balmes, \u201cseems to have\noverlooked all distinction between the imagination of space and the\nnotion of space; and much as he labored in analyzing the subject, he did\nnot succeed in framing a theory worthy of the name. While he considers\nspace as a receptacle of natural phenomena, he at the same time despoils\nit of its objectivity, and says that space is nothing but a merely\nsubjective condition, \u2026 an imaginary capacity in which we can scatter\nand arrange the phenomena.\u201d[124] \u201cTo say that space is a thing merely\nsubjective,\u201d continues Balmes, \u201cis either not to solve the problems of\nthe outward world, or to deny them, inasmuch as their reality is thereby\ndenied. What have we gained in philosophy by affirming that space is a\nmerely subjective condition? Did we not know, even before this German\nphilosopher uttered a word, that we had the perception of exterior\nphenomena? Does not consciousness itself bear witness to the existence of\nsuch a perception? It was not this, therefore, that we wished to know,\nbut this only: whether such a perception be a sufficient ground for\naffirming the existence of the outward world, and what are the relations\nby which our perception is connected with the same outward world. This\nis the whole question. He who answers that in our perception there is\nnothing but a merely subjective condition, Alexander-like, cuts the\nknot, and denies, instead of explaining, the possibility of experimental\nknowledge.\u201d[125]\n\nAs to Descartes\u2019 and Leibnitz\u2019 opinion, which makes the reality of\nspace dependent on material occupation, we need only observe that such\nan opinion, even as modified by Balmes, leads to numerous absurdities,\npresupposes the material continuity of bodies, which we have shown to\nbe intrinsically repugnant,[126] and assumes, by an evident _petitio\nprincipii_, that space void of matter is nothing. The same opinion is\nbeset by another very great difficulty, inasmuch as it assumes that the\nreality of space lies in something relative, whilst it recognizes nothing\nabsolute which may be pointed out as the foundation of the relativity.\nThis difficulty will never be answered. In all kind and degree of\nreality, before anything relative can be conceived, something absolute\nis to be found from which the relative borrows its relativity. On the\nother hand, it is obvious that real space, as understood by Descartes,\nand by Balmes too, is something purely relative; for \u201cspace,\u201d says\nBalmes, \u201cis nothing but the extension of bodies themselves\u201d; to which\nDescartes adds, that such a space \u201cconstitutes the essence of bodies.\u201d\nBut the extension of bodies is evidently relative, since it arises from\nthe relations intervening between the material terms of bodies. The\nthree dimensions of bodies--length, breadth, and depth--are nothing but\ndistances, and distances are relations in space. Hence, no dimension is\nconceivable but through relations in space; and therefore, before we can\nhave real dimensions in bodies, we must have, as their foundation, real\nspace independent of bodies. Finally, since the opinion of which we are\nspeaking affirms that relative space is a reality, while it denies that\nspace without bodies is real, the same opinion lays down the foundation\nof real and of ideal Pantheism, as we have already remarked. This\nsuffices to show that such an opinion must be absolutely rejected.\n\nNothing therefore remains but to accept the doctrine of those who account\nfor the reality of absolute space either by divine immensity or by the\npossibility of real ubications. But these authors, as a little reflection\nwill show, though employing a different phraseology, teach substantially\nthe same thing; for it would be absurd to imagine the possibility\nof infinite real ubications as extraneous to God, in whom alone all\nthings have their possibility. We must, therefore, conclude that space,\nconsidered absolutely as to its quiddity, may be defined to be the\ninfinite virtuality, or extrinsic terminability, of divine immensity.\n\n_A Corollary._--Absolute space is infinite, eternal, immovable,\nimmutable, indivisible, and _formally_ simple, though _virtually_\nextended without limits--that is, equivalent to infinite length, breadth,\nand depth.\n\n_Solution of Objections._--It may be objected that absolute space, being\nonly a virtuality, can have no formal existence. In fact, the virtuality\nof divine immensity is the mere possibility of real ubications; and\npossibilities have no formal existence. Hence, to affirm that absolute\nspace has formal being in the order of realities, is to give body to\na shadow. It would be more reasonable to say that space is contained\nin divine immensity just as the velocity which a body may acquire is\ncontained in the power of an agent; and that, as the power of the agent\nis no velocity, so the virtuality of immensity is no space.\n\nThis objection may be answered thus: Granted that the virtuality\nof divine immensity is the mere possibility of real ubications, it\ndoes not follow that absolute space has only a _virtual_ existence,\nbut, on the contrary, that, as the virtuality of divine immensity is\naltogether _actual_, so also is absolute space. The reason alleged, that\n\u201cpossibilities have no formal existence,\u201d is sophistic. A term which is\nonly possible, say, another world, has of course no formal existence;\nbut its possibility--that is, the extrinsic terminability of God\u2019s\nomnipotence--is evidently as actual as omnipotence itself. And in the\nsame manner, an ubication which is only possible has no formal existence;\nbut its possibility--that is, the extrinsic terminability of God\u2019s\nimmensity--is evidently as actual as immensity itself. If absolute space\nwere conceived as an array of actual ubications, we would readily concede\nthat to give it a reality not grounded on actual ubications would be to\ngive a body to a shadow; but, since absolute space must be conceived as\nthe mere possibility of actual ubications, it is manifest that we need\nnothing but the actual terminability of God\u2019s immensity to be justified\nin admitting the actual existence of absolute space.\n\nWould it be \u201cmore reasonable\u201d to say, as the objection infers, that\nspace is contained in divine immensity just as velocity is contained\nin the power of the agent? Certainly not, because what is contained\nin divine immensity is the virtuality of contingent ubications, not\nthe virtuality of absolute space. There is no virtuality of absolute\nspace; for there is no virtuality of possibility of ubications; as the\nvirtuality of a possibility would be nothing else than the possibility\nof a possibility--that is, a chimera. Hence, the words of the objection\nshould be altered as follows: \u201cContingent ubications are contained in\ndivine immensity just as velocity is contained in the power of an agent;\nfor, as the power of the agent is no actual velocity, so the virtuality\nof immensity is no actual contingent ubication.\u201d And we may go further\nin the comparison by adding, that, as the formal possibility of actual\nvelocity lies wholly in the power of the agent, so the possibility of\nactual ubications--that is, absolute space--lies in the virtuality of\ndivine immensity.\n\nThus the objection is solved. It will not be superfluous, however, to\npoint out the false assumption which underlies it, viz., the notion that\nthe extrinsic terminability of divine immensity has only a virtual, not\na formal, reality. This assumption is false. The terminability is the\nformality under which God\u2019s immensity presents itself to our thought,\nwhen it is regarded as the source of some extrinsic relation, _ut\nhabens ordinem ad extra_. Such a formality is not a mere concept of our\nreason; for God\u2019s immensity is not only conceptually, but also really,\nterminable _ad extra_; whence it follows that such a terminability is\nan objective reality in the divine substance. Terminability, of course,\nimplies virtuality; but this does not mean that such a terminability has\nonly a virtual reality; for the virtuality it implies is the virtuality\nof the extrinsic terms which it connotes, and not the virtuality of its\nown being. Were we to admit that the extrinsic terminability of God\u2019s\nimmensity is only a virtual entity, we would be compelled to say also\nthat omnipotence itself is only a virtual entity; for omnipotence is the\nextrinsic terminability of God\u2019s act. But it is manifest that omnipotence\nis in God formally, not virtually. In like manner, then, immensity is in\nGod not only as an actual attribute, but also as an attribute having an\nactual terminability _ad extra_, which shows that its terminability is\nnot a virtual, but a formal, reality.\n\nA second objection may be made. Would it not be better to define space\nas _the virtuality of all ubications_, rather than _the virtuality of\nGod\u2019s immensity_? For when we think of space, we conceive it as something\nimmediately connected with the ubication of creatures, without need of\nrising to the consideration of God\u2019s immensity.\n\nWe answer that absolute space may indeed be styled \u201cthe virtuality\nof all ubications;\u201d for all possible ubications are in fact virtually\ncontained in it. But such a phrase does not express the quiddity of\nabsolute space; for it does not tell us what reality is that in which all\nubications are virtually contained. On the contrary, when we say that\nabsolute space is \u201cthe virtuality of divine immensity,\u201d we point out the\nvery quiddity of space; for we point out its constituent formality which\nconnects divine immensity with all possible ubications.\n\nTrue it is that we are wont to think of space as connected with\ncontingent ubications; for it is from such ubications that our knowledge\nof place and of space arises. But this space thus immediately connected\nwith existing creatures is _relative_ space, and its representation\nmostly depends on our imaginative faculty. Hence, this manner of\nrepresenting space cannot be alleged as a proof that _absolute_ space can\nbe intellectually conceived without referring to divine immensity.\n\nA third objection may be the following. Whatever has existence is either\na substance or an accident. But absolute space is neither a substance\nnor an accident. Therefore, absolute space has no existence, and is\nnothing. The major of this argument is well known, and the minor is\nproved thus: Absolute space does not exist in any subject, of which it\nmight be predicated; hence, absolute space is not an accident. Nor is\nit a substance; for then it would be the substance of God himself--an\ninference too preposterous to be admitted.\n\nThis objection will soon disappear by observing that, although everything\nexisting may be reduced either to the category of substance or to some\nof the categories of accident, nevertheless, it is not true that every\nexisting reality is _formally_ a substance or an accident. There are\na great many realities which cannot be styled \u201csubstances,\u201d though\nthey are not accidents. Thus, rationality, activity, substantiality,\nexistence, and all the essential attributes and constituents of things,\nare not substances, and yet they are not accidents; for they either enter\ninto the constitution, or flow from the essence, of substance, and are\nidentified with it, though not formally nor adequately. Applying this\ndistinction to our subject, we say that absolute space cannot be styled\nsimply \u201cGod\u2019s substance,\u201d notwithstanding the fact that the virtuality\nof divine immensity identifies itself with immensity, and immensity\nwith the divine substance. The reason of this is, that one thing is\nnot said simply to be another, unless they be the same not only as to\ntheir reality, but also as to their conceptual notion. Hence, we do\nnot say that the possibility of creatures is \u201cGod\u2019s substance,\u201d though\nsuch a possibility is in God alone; and in the same manner, we cannot\nsay that the possibility of ubication is \u201cGod\u2019s substance,\u201d though such\na possibility has the reason of its being in God alone. For the same\nreason, we cannot say simply that God\u2019s eternity is his omnipotence, nor\nthat his intellect is his immensity, nor that God understands by his\nwill or by his goodness, though these attributes identify themselves\nreally with the divine substance and with one another, as is shown in\nnatural theology. It is plain, therefore, that absolute space is not\nprecisely \u201cGod\u2019s substance\u201d; and yet it is not an accident; for it is the\nvirtuality or extrinsic terminability of divine immensity itself.\n\nA fourth objection arises from the opinion of those who consider God\u2019s\nimmensity as the foundation of absolute space, but in such a manner as to\nimply the existence of a _real_ distinction between the two. Immensity,\nthey say, has no formal extension, as it has no parts outside of parts;\nwhereas, absolute space is formally extended, and has parts outside of\nparts; for when a body occupies one part of space, it does not occupy\nany other--which shows that the parts of space are really distinct from\none another; and therefore absolute space, though it has the reason of\nits being in God\u2019s immensity, is something really distinct from God\u2019s\nimmensity.\n\nTo this we answer, that it is impossible to admit a _real_ distinction\nbetween absolute space and divine immensity. When divine immensity is\nsaid to be the foundation, or the reason of being, of absolute space, the\nphrase must not be taken to mean that absolute space is anything made,\nor extrinsic to God\u2019s immensity; its meaning is that God\u2019s immensity\ncontains in itself _virtually_, as we have explained, all possible\nubications of exterior things, just as God\u2019s omnipotence contains in\nitself _virtually_ all possible creatures. And as we cannot affirm\nwithout error that there is a real distinction between divine omnipotence\nand the possibility of creatures which it contains, so we cannot affirm\nwithout error that there is a real distinction between divine immensity\nand the possibility of ubications which it contains.\n\nThat immensity has no parts outside of parts we fully admit, though\nwe maintain at the same time that God is everywhere _formally_ by his\nimmensity. But we deny that absolute space has parts outside of parts;\nfor it is impossible to have parts where there are no distinct entities.\nAbsolute space is one simple virtuality containing in itself the reason\nof distinct ubications, but not made up of them; just as the divine\nessence contains in itself the reason of all producible essences, but is\nnot made up of them.\n\nAs to the _formal extension_ of immensity, Lessius seems to admit it\nwhen he says that \u201cGod exists in the space which his immensity _formally\nextends_.\u201d F\u00e9nelon also holds that \u201cimmensity is infinite extension\u201d;\nwhilst Balmes does not admit that extension can be conceived where there\nare no parts. The question, so far as we can judge, is one of words. That\nGod is everywhere _formally_ is a plain truth; on the other hand, to\nsay that he is _formally_ extended, taking \u201cextension\u201d in the ordinary\nsignification, would be to imply parts and composition; which cannot be\nin God. It seems to us that the right manner of expressing the infinite\nrange of God\u2019s immensity would be this: \u201cGod through his immensity is\nformally everywhere, though by a virtual, not a formal, extension.\u201d\nIn the same manner, space is formally everywhere, though it is only\nvirtually, not formally, extended. And very likely this, and nothing\nmore, is what Lessius meant when saying that immensity \u201cformally extends\u201d\nspace. This phrase may, in fact, be understood in two ways; first, as\nmeaning that immensity causes space to be _formally extended_--which\nis wrong; secondly, as meaning that immensity is _the formal_, not the\nefficient, _reason_ of the extension of space. This second meaning,\nwhich is philosophically correct, does not imply the _formal_ extension\nof space, as is evident, unless by \u201cformal extension\u201d we understand the\n\u201cformal reason of its extending\u201d; in which case the word \u201cextension\u201d\nwould be taken in an unusual sense.\n\nLastly, when it is objected that \u201cbodies occupying one part of space\ndo not occupy another,\u201d and that therefore \u201cspace is composed of\ndistinct parts,\u201d a confusion is made of absolute space, as such, and\nspace extrinsically terminated, or occupied by matter, and receiving\nfrom such a termination an extrinsic denomination. Distinct bodies give\ndistinct names to the places occupied by them; but absolute space is not\nintrinsically affected by the presence of bodies, as we shall see in our\nnext article; and, therefore, the distinct denominations of different\nplaces refer to the distinct ubications of matter, not to distinct parts\nof absolute space. As we cannot say that the sun and the planets are\nparts of divine omnipotence, so we cannot say that their places are parts\nof divine immensity or of its terminability; for as the sun and the\nplanets are only extrinsic terms of omnipotence, so are their places only\nextrinsic terms of immensity. Such places, therefore, may be distinct\nfrom one another, but their possibility (that is, absolute space)\nis _one_, and has no parts. But this subject will receive a greater\ndevelopment in our next article, in which we intend to investigate the\nnature of relative space.\n\nTO BE CONTINUED.\n\n\nCORPUS CHRISTI.\n\n    Not lilies here, their vesture is too pale,\n    Nor will they crush to fragrance \u2019neath the tread\n    Where every step must rapturous thought exhale\n    Of the triumphant King whose thorn-crowned head\n    Dripped crimson life-drops but a while ago.\n    Not lilies here, to-day the roses know\n    It is Love\u2019s feast, and sacred banquet-hall\n    And holy table should be decked and strewn\n    With Love\u2019s bright flowers, the perfumed gifts of June.\n    Oh! that our hearts might lie beneath his feet\n    Even as the drifting petals, pure and sweet!\n    Joy, drooping soul! His peace is over all.\n    Gethsemane is past, Golgotha\u2019s darkness fled:\n    To-day the guests are bidden, the heavenly banquet spread.\n\n\nARE YOU MY WIFE?\n\nBY THE AUTHOR OF \u201cPARIS BEFORE THE WAR,\u201d \u201cNUMBER THIRTEEN,\u201d \u201cPIUS VI.,\u201d\nETC.\n\nCHAPTER VI.\n\nTHE DEBUT.\n\nThe three days had expanded to ten when Admiral de Winton opened the\nbreakfast-room door on Monday morning, and, standing on the threshold,\nsaid in his most emphatic manner: \u201cHarness, I\u2019m going up by the 3.20 this\nafternoon. Now, not a word, or I\u2019ll bolt this minute. \u2026 I can bear a good\ndeal, but there is a limit to everything. You\u2019ve wheedled me and bullied\nme into neglecting my business for a whole week, in spite of myself; and\nI\u2019m off to-day by the 3.20.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, depart in peace whatever you do,\u201d said Sir Simon, \u201cand I suppose\nyou had better have some breakfast before you start? It\u2019s struck nine\nalready, but you will have time to swallow a cup of tea between this and\nthen.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe fact is it serves me right,\u201d continued the admiral, advancing to his\naccustomed seat at the table; \u201chard-worked drudges of my kind ought never\nto trust themselves in the clutches of idle swells like you--they never\nknow when they\u2019ll get out of them. Here\u2019s a letter from the Admiralty,\nblowing me up for not sending in that report I was to have drawn up on\nthe Russian fleet; and quite right, too--only it\u2019s you who ought to get\nthe blowing up, not me.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut, uncle, I thought you had settled to remain till Thursday,\u201d said\nClide; \u201cyou said you would yesterday.\u201d\n\n\u201cOne often says a thing yesterday that one has to unsay to-day,\u201d retorted\nthe admiral, clearing for action by sweeping his letters to one side;\n\u201cI\u2019m going by the 3.20. I tell you I am, Harness!\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, I\u2019ve not said anything to the contrary, have I?\u201d\n\n\u201cBut you needn\u2019t be trying to circumvent me, to make me late for the\ntrain, or that sort of thing. I\u2019m up to your dodges now. Ryder will be on\nthe look-out; he\u2019s packing up already.\u201d\n\n\u201cI must say its rather shabby behavior to Lady Anwyll,\u201d observed the\nbaronet; \u201cthe dinner and dance on Wednesday are entirely for you and\nClide.\u201d\n\n\u201cClide must go and make the best of it for me; an old fellow like me is\nno great loss at a dinner, and I don\u2019t suppose she counted much on me for\nthe dance. How much longer do you intend to stay here, eh?\u201d This was to\nhis nephew.\n\n\u201cWhat\u2019s that to you?\u201d said Sir Simon, interrupting Clide, who was about\nto answer; \u201cyou\u2019d like him to do as you are doing--set the county astir\nto entertain him, and then decamp before anything comes off.\u201d\n\nBut the admiral was not to be moved from his determination by any sense\nof ill-behavior to the county. He started by the 3.20. Sir Simon and\nClide went to see him off, and called at The Lilies on their way back.\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s perfectly useless, he never would consent to it; and in any case\nit\u2019s too late now,\u201d Sir Simon remarked, with his hand on the wicket;\n\u201cit\u2019s for Wednesday, and this is Monday. We should have thought of it\nsooner.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, you\u2019ll speak to him anyhow; it may serve for next time,\u201d urged\nClide in a low voice; \u201cit\u2019s cruel to see her cooped up in this way.\u201d\n\nIt was as Sir Simon guessed. M. de la Bourbonais would not hear of\nFranceline\u2019s going to Lady Anwyll\u2019s. Why should he? He did not know Lady\nAnwyll, and he was not likely to accept an invitation that had clearly\nbeen sent at somebody else\u2019s request, at the eleventh hour. But quite\napart from this he would never have allowed his daughter to go. He\nnever went out himself, and his paternal French instinct repelled as a\nmonstrous _inconvenance_ the idea of letting her go without him--above\nall, for a first appearance.\n\n\u201cBut, happily, Franceline does not care about those things,\u201d he said;\n\u201cshe has never been to a party, as you know. She is happier without\namusements of the sort; her doves are all the amusement she wants.\u201d\n\n\u201cHem!\u2026 I\u2019m not so sure of that, Bourbonais,\u201d said Sir Simon; \u201cwe take for\ngranted young people don\u2019t care for things because we have ceased to care\nfor them; we forget that we were young once upon a time ourselves. Why\nshould Franceline not enjoy what other young girls enjoy?\u201d\n\n\u201cShe is not like other young girls,\u201d replied her father, in a tone of\ngentle sadness.\n\n\u201cUnfortunately for other girls and for mankind in general,\u201d assented Sir\nSimon.\n\nRaymond smiled.\n\n\u201cI meant that their circumstances are not alike. You know they are not,\nmon cher.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou make mountains out of mole-hills, Bourbonais,\u201d said the baronet;\n\u201chowever, I give in about this hop of Lady Anwyll\u2019s. It wouldn\u2019t quite\ndo to bring Mlle. de la Bourbonais out in that fashion; she must be\npresented differently; those youngsters don\u2019t consider these important\npoints.\u201d And he nodded at Clide, who had sat listening with none the less\ninterest because he was silent. \u201cBut something must be done about it; the\nchild can\u2019t be thrown any longer on her doves for society; she must have\na little amusement; it will tell on her health if she has not.\u201d\n\nIt was not without intention that he pointed this arrow at Raymond\u2019s\nshield. Sir Simon knew where his vulnerable spot lay, and that it was\npossible to make him do almost anything by suggesting that it might\naffect his child\u2019s health. He had, so far, no grounds for alarm, or even\nanxiety about it; but the memory of her mother, to whom she bore in many\nways so strong a resemblance, hung over him like the shadow of an unseen\ndread. It was this that conquered him in the riding scheme, reducing\nhim into acquiescence with what he felt was not frankly justifiable.\nSir Simon had indeed assured him that Lord Roxham had declined to take\nRosebud; but he did not explain the circumstances. Clide had taken\na fancy to the spirited bay mare, and on the very morning after the\nletter was despatched he announced his intention of riding her while he\nremained; whereupon the baronet, more keenly alive to the courtesies\nof a host than the obligations of a debtor, instead of telling him\nhow matters stood, wrote a second letter on receipt of Lord Roxham\u2019s\naccepting the offer, to say he could not let him have the horse for a\nweek or so, and as Lord Roxham wanted her immediately as a present for\nhis intended bride, he could not wait, and thus \u00a31,000 slipped out of\nSir Simon\u2019s hands. Mr. Simpson, his incomparable man of business, had,\nhowever, stopped the gap by some other means, and the rascally architect\nwas quieted for the present.\n\nRaymond observed that Lord Roxham was not the only person in England\nwho was open to the offer of a mare like Rosebud, though it might be\ndifficult to meet with any one willing to give such an exorbitant price\nfor her; one does not light on a wealthy, infatuated bridegroom every\nday. \u201cYes, that\u2019s just it,\u201d replied Sir Simon, grasping at any excuse for\nprocrastination, \u201cone must bide one\u2019s time; it\u2019s a mistake selling for\nthe sake of selling; if you only have patience you\u2019re sure to find your\nman by-and-by.\u201d And Raymond, feeling that he had done all that he was\ncalled upon to do in the case, recurred to it no more, and was satisfied\nto let Franceline use the horse. There was no doubt the exercise was\nbeneficial to her. Ang\u00e9lique said her appetite had nearly doubled, and\nthe child slept like a dormouse since she had taken the riding; and as to\nthe enjoyment it afforded her, there could be no mistake about that.\n\nSir Simon had promised to think over what next should be done to amuse\nhis young favorite, and he was as good as his word. He gave the matter,\nin ministerial parlance, his most anxious consideration, and the\nresult was that he made up his mind to give a ball at the Court, where\nFranceline should make her _d\u00e9but_ with the _\u00e9clat_ that became her real\nstation and the hereditary friendship of the two families. He owed this\nto Raymond. It was only fitting that Franceline should come out under\nhis roof, and be presented by him as the daughter of his oldest and most\nvalued friend. He was almost as fond of the child, too, as if she were\nhis own; and besides, it was becoming desirable at this moment that her\nposition in society should be properly defined. He came down to breakfast\nbig with this mighty resolution, and communicated it to Clide, who at\nonce entered into the plan with great gusto, and had many valuable hints\nto give in the way of decorations; he had seen eastern pageants, and\nItalian and Spanish _festas_, and every description of barbaric gala in\nhis travels, and his ideas were checked by none of the chains that are\napt to hamper the flights of fancy in similar cases. Sir Simon had never\nhinted in his presence at such a thing as pecuniary embarrassments, and\nthere was nothing in the style and expenditure at the Court to suggest\ntheir existence there. Sir Simon winced a little as Clide unwittingly\nbrought his practical deception home to him by speaking as if money were\nas plentiful as blackberries with the owner of Dullerton; but he was\ndetermined to keep strictly within the bounds of reason, and not to be\nbeguiled into the least unnecessary extravagance.\n\n\u201cBourbonais would not like it, you see; and we must consider him first in\nthe matter. It will be better on the whole to make it simply a sort of\nfamily thing, just a mustering of the natives to introduce Franceline. It\nwould be in bad taste to make a Lord Mayor\u2019s day of it, as if she were\nan heiress, and so on. We\u2019ll just throw all the rooms open, and make it\nas jolly as we can in a quiet way. I\u2019ll invite everybody--the more the\nmerrier.\u201d\n\nSo they spent a pleasant hour or so talking it all over; who were to be\nasked to fill their houses, and what men were to be had down from London\nas a reserve corps for the dancing. They had got the length of fixing the\ndate of the ball, when Sir Simon remembered that there was the highly\nimportant question of Franceline\u2019s dress to be considered.\n\n\u201cI must manage to get her up to London, and have her properly rigged\nout by some milliner there. I dare say your stepmother would put us up\nto that part of the business, eh?\u201d And Clide committed his stepmother\nto this effect in a most reckless way. It had already been mooted with\nRaymond by Sir Simon that Franceline should go to London for a few days\nto see the sights, and he could fall back on this now for the present\npurpose. He was surprised to find that Raymond consented to the proposal,\nnot merely without reluctance, but almost with alacrity.\n\n\u201cIf you really think the change will do her good, I shall be only too\ngrateful to you for taking her,\u201d he said; \u201cbut does it strike you she\nwants it?\u201d\n\nSir Simon felt a slight shock of compunction at this direct question,\nand at the glance of timid inquiry that accompanied it. He had never\nintended to distress or alarm his friend; he only made the remarks about\nFranceline\u2019s health as a means of compassing his own ends towards amusing\nand pleasing her.\n\n\u201cNot a bit of it!\u201d he answered contemptuously; \u201cwhat could have put such\na notion into my head? When I say a little change of one sort or another\nwill do her good, I only judge from what I hear all the mothers say;\nwhen their daughters are come to Franceline\u2019s age they\u2019re constantly\nwanting change, and if they are too long without it they begin to droop,\nand to look pale, and so forth, and the doctor orders them off somewhere.\nI don\u2019t imagine Franceline is an exception to the general rule; and as\nprevention is better than cure, it\u2019s as well to give her the change\nbefore she feels the want of it. It\u2019s a good plan always to take time by\nthe forelock; you see yourself that the riding has done her good.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, mon cher, yes,\u201d said M. de la Bourbonais, tilting his spectacles,\n\u201cit certainly has strengthened her. She has lost that pain in her side\nshe used to suffer from, though I never knew it--I only heard of it when\nit was gone. Ang\u00e9lique should not have concealed it from me,\u201d he added, a\nlittle nervously, and with another of those inquiring looks at Sir Simon.\n\n\u201cPooh, pooh, nonsense! What would she have worried you about it for? All\nyoung people have pains in their sides,\u201d returned the baronet oracularly.\n\u201cShe\u2019s not done growing yet. Well, then, it\u2019s settled that I carry her\noff on Monday. We will start early, so as to be there to receive Mrs. de\nWinton, who arrives at Grosvenor Square by the late afternoon train.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut there is one thing you must promise me,\u201d said Raymond, going up\nto him and laying a hand impressively on his arm; \u201cyou will go to no\nunnecessary expense. You must give me your word for that.\u201d\n\n\u201cThere you are, as usual, harping on the old string,\u201d laughed the\nbaronet, with a touch of impatience. \u201cWhat expense do you expect me to go\nto? The house is there, and the servants are there and whether I\u2019m there\nor not the expenses go on. You don\u2019t suppose Franceline will add very\nheavily to them, or Mrs. de Winton either?\u201d\n\n\u201cBut you talked about taking her to the operas, and so on, and I am\nsure she would not care for amusements of that sort; they would be too\nexciting for her. The change of scene and the sights of the city will be\nquite enough.\u201d\n\n\u201cMake your mind easy about all that. Mrs. de Winton will take care the\nchild doesn\u2019t overdo herself. She\u2019s a very sensible woman, and not at all\nfond of excitement.\u201d\n\nAs the baronet pronounced Mrs. de Winton\u2019s name, it occurred to him\nfor the first time to wonder if it suggested nothing to Raymond, and\nwhether Clide\u2019s assiduity at The Lilies, and prolonged stay at Dullerton\nafter his announcement that he was only to remain three days, awoke\nno suspicion in his mind. The thing would have been impossible in the\ncase of any other father; but Raymond was so absorbed in his studies,\nin hunting out and analyzing the Causes of the Revolution, the proposed\ntitle of the work that was to be Franceline\u2019s _dot_, and so altogether\nunlearned in the common machinery of life, that he was capable of seeing\nthe house on fire, and not suspecting it concerned him until it singed\nhis pen. He knew that Clide\u2019s meeting with him had been a turning-point\nin the young man\u2019s life; that it was Raymond\u2019s advice and influence that\ndetermined him to return to Glanworth, and enter on his duties there\nwith a vigorous desire to fulfil them at the sacrifice of his own plans\nand inclinations. He was already acting the part of mentor to Clide, who\ncarried him his agent\u2019s letters to read, and consulted him about the\nvarious philanthropic schemes he had in his head for the improvement of\nthe people on his estate--notably the repression of drunkenness, which\nRaymond impressed on him must be the keystone of all possible improvement\namong the humbler classes in England. Was it possible that this demeanor\nand the son-like tone of respect which Clide had adopted toward him\nsuggested no ulterior motive on Clide\u2019s part, or awoke no parental fear\nor suspicion in Raymond? Sir Simon was turning this problem up and down\nin his mind, and debating how far it might be advisable to sound his\nfriend, when Raymond said abruptly:\n\n\u201cMr. de Winton is not going with you, of course?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo; he is to run down to his own place while we are away. I expect him\nback when we return.\u201d\n\nTheir eyes met. Sir Simon smiled a quizzical, complaisant smile, but it\ndied out quickly when he saw the alarmed expression in Raymond\u2019s face.\n\n\u201cThe idea never struck me before,\u201d he exclaimed. \u201cHow should it? There\nwas nothing to suggest it; the disparity is too great.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow so? They are pretty well matched in age--eighteen and\neight-and-twenty--and as to Clide\u2019s family, he cannot certainly count\nquarterings with the De Xaintriacs, or perhaps even the Bourbonais; but\nthe De Wintons are\u2026\u201d\n\n\u201cEnfantillage,[127] enfantillage!\u201d broke in Raymond with a gesture of\nwild impatience; \u201cas if it signified in a foreigner living in exile\nwhether his family be illustrious or not, when it is decayed and without\nthe smallest actual weight or position! The disparity I allude to is in\nfortune. With such a barrier between my daughter and Mr. de Winton, how\ncould any arrangement have entered into my imagination?\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd you have actually lived all these years in England without getting\nto understand Englishmen and their ideas better than that!\u201d said Sir\nSimon. \u201cAs if it mattered that\u201d--snapping his fingers--\u201cabout any\ndifference in fortune! Why half the wealthiest men I know have married\ngirls without a penny. I did it myself,\u201d added the baronet, with a change\nfrom gay to grave in his tone; \u201cmy wife had no fortune of her own, and if\nshe had, I wouldn\u2019t have taken a penny with her. No man of spirit, who\nhas a fortune large enough to support his wife properly, likes to take\nmoney with her. Clide de Winton has \u00a315,000 a year, and no end of money\naccumulating in the funds; he hasn\u2019t spent two years\u2019 income these last\neight years, I\u2019ll lay a wager; it would be a crying shame if he were to\nmarry a wife with money; but he\u2019s not the man to do it.\u201d\n\nM. de la Bourbonais had risen, and was walking up and down with his hands\nbehind his back and his chin on his breast, his usual attitude when he\nwas thinking hard. It was the first time that the idea of Franceline\u2019s\nmarriage had come home to him in any practical form--indeed, in any form\nbut that of a remote and shadowy abstraction that he might or might\nnot be some day called upon to discuss. He had not discussed his own\nmarriage, and there was no precedent in his mind for discussing hers. As\nfar as his perceptions carried him, those things were entirely arranged\nby outsiders; when everything was made ready in the business department,\nthe parties concerned were brought together, and the wedding took place.\nBut what business was there to arrange in Franceline\u2019s case? If Mr. de\nWinton had been a high-born young gentleman without a penny to bless\nhimself with, there would have been some sense in his being proposed as\na candidate for Mlle. de la Bourbonais; but it was against all law and\nprecedent that a millionnaire should dream of marrying a girl without a\n_dot_.\n\n\u201cThis is very foolish\u201d he said, taking another turn up the long\nroom--they were in the library--\u201cif it occurred to you before, you should\nhave told me.\u201d\n\n\u201cTold you what? That Mlle. de la Bourbonais was a deuced pretty girl,\nand Mr. de Winton a remarkably good-looking young man, neither blind nor\ndevoid of understanding. I should think you might have found that out for\nyourself.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is not a thing to joke about, Simon. I cannot understand your joking\nabout it.\u201d And Raymond halted before Sir Simon, who was lounging back in\nhis chair, his coat thrown back, and his thumbs stuck into his waistcoat,\nwhile he surveyed his friend\u2019s anxious face with a look of comical\nsatisfaction. \u201cHas Mr. de Winton spoken to you on the subject?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo.\u201d\n\n\u201cHave you said anything to him about it?\u201d\n\n\u201cNot I!\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd yet you speak as if you had something to go upon.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd so I have. I have my eyes and my intelligence. I have been making\nuse of both during the last ten days.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen am I expected to speak to him?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are expected to do nothing of the sort,\u201d said the baronet, starting\nfrom his listless attitude, and speaking in a determined manner; \u201cit does\nnot concern you at this stage of affairs. If you interfere you may just\nput your foot in it. Leave the young people to manage their own affairs;\nthey understand it better than we do.\u201d\n\n\u201cNot concern me!\u201d echoed Raymond, protruding his eyebrows an inch\nbeyond his nose; \u201cand if this idea, that seems so clear to you, should\nseem clear to others, and nothing comes of it, how then? My child is\ncompromised, and I am not to interfere, and it does not concern me?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou talk like an infant, Bourbonais!\u201d said Sir Simon, changing his\nbantering tone to one of resentment. \u201cAm I likely to encourage De Winton\nif I did not know him; if I were not certain that he is incapable of\nbehaving otherwise than as a gentleman!\u201d\n\n\u201cBut you confess that he has not said anything to you; suppose he should\nnever have thought of it at all?\u201d\n\n\u201cSuppose that he\u2019s a blind idiot! Is it likely that a young fellow like\nClide should be thrown into daily society with a girl like Franceline and\nnot fall in love with her? Tell me that!\u201d\n\nBut that was precisely what Raymond could not see. His mental vision was\nnot given to roaming beyond the narrow horizon of his own experience:\nthis furnished him with no precedent for the case in point--a young man\nfalling in love and choosing a wife without being told to do so by his\nfamily.\n\n\u201cIf it were suggested to him,\u201d he replied, dubiously, \u201cno doubt he might;\nbut no one has put it into his head; even you have not given him a hint\nto that effect.\u201d\n\nSir Simon threw back his head and roared.\n\n\u201cReally, Bourbonais, you\u2019re too bad! \u2019Pon my honor you are. To imagine\nthat a man of eight-and-twenty waits for a hint to fall in love when he\nhas the temptation and the opportunity! But you know no more about it\nthan the man in the moon. You live in the clouds.\u201d\n\n\u201cI have lived in them perhaps too long,\u201d replied Raymond, humbly and\nwith a pang of self-reproach. \u201cI should have been more watchful where my\nchild was concerned; but I fancied that her poverty, which hitherto has\ncut her off from the enjoyments of her age, precluded all possibility of\nmarriage--at least until the fruit of my toil should have given her a\nright to think of it. It seems I was mistaken.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd are you sorry for it?\u201d\n\nRaymond walked to the window, and looked out for a moment before he\nanswered.\n\n\u201cAdmitting that the immense disparity in fortune were _not_ an\ninsuperable barrier, there is another that nothing would overcome in\nFranceline\u2019s eyes--he is not a Catholic.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, he is. At least he ought to be; his mother was a Catholic, and he\nwas brought up one.\n\n\u201cStrange that he should not have mentioned that to me!\u201d said Raymond,\nmusing; \u201cbut then how is it that we did not see him in church last\nSunday?\u201d\n\n\u201cHem!\u2026 I\u2019m not quite sure that he went; it was my fault. I kept them\nboth up till the small hours of the morning talking over business, and\nso on,\u201d said Sir Simon, throwing the mantle of friendship over Clide\u2019s\ndelinquency. \u201cYou know it does not do to draw the rein too tight with\na young fellow. He\u2019s been so much abroad, and unhappy, and that sort of\nthing, you see; but a wife would bring him all right again, and keep him\nup to the collar.\u201d\n\n\u201cFranceline would attach paramount importance to that, Harness,\u201d said the\nfather, with a certain accent of humility; he did not dare insist on it\nin his own name.\n\n\u201cOf course she would, dear little puss, and quite right; but she won\u2019t be\ntoo hard on him for all that.\u201d\n\nIt required all Sir Simon\u2019s powers of persuasion to make Raymond\npromise that he would leave things alone, and not speak either to\nClide or Franceline on the subject of this conversation. He gave the\npromise, however, feeling in some intangible way that the possibility\nof Franceline\u2019s marriage under such unprecedented, such unnatural\ncircumstances, in fact, was a phenomenon too far beyond his ken for him\nto meddle with in safety. It was decided that she should go to London on\nthe day appointed, as if nothing had transpired between the friends since\nthe proposed visit had been agreed to.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nA ball anywhere at Dullerton was always a momentous occasion, stirring\nthe stagnant waters with pleasurable agitation; but a ball at the\nCourt was an event of such magnitude that it set the neighborhood in\nmovement like a powerful electric shock. It was, compared to ordinary\nentertainments of the kind, what a Royal coronation is to a Lord Mayor\u2019s\nshow. Wonderful reports were afloat as to the magnificence of the\npreparations that were going on. Nobody had been allowed to see them; but\nconjecture was busy, and enough transpired to excite expectation to the\nhighest pitch. It was known that men had been brought down from London\nwith vans full of all sorts of appliances for transforming the solemn\nGothic mansion into a fairy palace. How the transformation was to be\neffected no one had the vaguest idea, and this made expectation all the\nmore thrilling.\n\nIt was indeed but too true that Sir Simon had abandoned his first wise\nintention of making it no more than a gay mustering of the clans. Fate\nso ordained that just at this time he got news of the rapidly declining\nhealth of his interesting relative, Lady Rebecca Harness. \u201cShe cannot\npossibly hold out over the autumn; her physician allowed as much to\ntranspire to a professional friend of mine, so we must be prepared for\nthe worst,\u201d wrote Mr. Simpson; \u201cit is certainly providential that the\n\u00a350,000 and the reversion of her ladyship\u2019s jointure should fall in at\nthis moment.\u201d And Sir Simon felt that he could not better express his\ngrateful sense of the providential coincidence, and at the same time\ncheer himself up under the impending bereavement, than by giving for once\nfull play to the oriental element of hospitality and magnificence, so\nlong pent up in him by a sordid bondage to economy.\n\n\u201cClide, that idea of yours about turning the Medusa gallery into a\nmoonlight walk, with palms and ferns, and so on, was really too good to\nbe lost. I think we must have the Covent Garden people down to do it. And\nthen the Diana gallery would make a capital pendant in the Chinese style.\nIt\u2019s really a pity to do the thing by halves; I owe it to Bourbonais to\ndo it handsomely on an occasion like this; and, hang it! a couple of\nhundreds more or less won\u2019t break a man, eh?\u201d\n\nAnd Clide being decidedly of opinion that it would not, the Covent Garden\npeople were had down, and preparations went on in right royal style.\n\nM. de la Bourbonais had been informed that a dance was in view for the\npurpose of introducing Franceline, and accepted the intelligence as a\npart of the mysterious web that was being woven round him by unseen\nhands. Perhaps he vaguely connected the event with something like a\n_soir\u00e9e de contrat_, or a forerunner of it, and this would account for\nhis passive acquiescence, and the tender, preoccupied air that marked\nhis manner during the foregoing week. Sir Simon, like a wily diplomatist\nas he was, managed to keep Clide from going to The Lilies for nearly the\nentire week, by throwing the whole burden of overseer on him, filling his\nhands so full of commissions for London, and shifting the responsibility\nof everything so completely on his shoulders that he had scarcely time to\neat or sleep, being either on the railroad or in a state of workmanlike\n_d\u00e9shabill\u00e9_ that made it impossible for him to show himself beyond the\nprecincts of the scene of action until dinner-hour, when Sir Simon was\nalways abnormally disinclined for a walk, and insisted on being read to\nor otherwise entertained by his young friend till bed-time.\n\nFranceline, meanwhile, had her own preoccupations. Not about her\ndress--that had been settled to her utmost satisfaction, being aided by\nthe combined action of Mrs. de Winton and that lady\u2019s French milliner.\nBut there was another important matter weighing heavily upon her mind.\nIt was just three days before the great day. Mr. de Winton had rushed\ndown with the _Edinburgh Review_ for M. de la Bourbonais, apologizing\nprofusely to Franceline, who was sitting in the summer-house, for\npresenting himself in such a state of undress, and saying something to\nthe effect that it was the servants\u2019 dinner-hour, and they were so much\nengaged, etc. But he could not keep the count waiting for the book, which\nought to have been sent several days ago. No, he would not disturb the\ncount at that hour, if Mlle. Franceline would be kind enough to take the\nbook and explain about the delay. Franceline promised to do so; which was\nrash, considering that she did not understand a word about it, or that\nthere was any delay whatever.\n\n\u201cOh! I may as well profit by the opportunity to ask if you are engaged\nfor the first waltz on Thursday?\u201d said Mr. de Winton, turning back after\nhe had gone a few steps, as if struck by a happy thought.\n\nNo, Franceline was not engaged.\n\n\u201cThen may I claim the privilege of the first-comer, and ask you for it?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, thank you. I shall be very happy.\u201d\n\nAnd she began immediately to be very miserable, remembering that she did\nnot know how to waltz, never having had a dancing lesson in her life.\nShe shut up her book, and set out toward the vicarage. She never felt\nquite at home with the Langrove girls; but they were the essence of good\nnature, and perhaps they could help her out of this difficulty. She was\nashamed to say at once what had brought her, and went on listening to\nthem chattering about their dresses, which were being manufactured out\nof every shade of tarlatan in the rainbow. Suddenly Godiva exclaimed:\n\u201cI wonder if you\u2019ll have any partners, Franceline? Do you think you\nwill? You know you don\u2019t know anybody? You\u2019ve never even spoken to Mr.\nCharlton.\u201d And Franceline, crushed under a sense of this and another\ninferiority, blushed, and said \u201cNo.\u201d\n\n\u201cPerhaps Mr. de Winton will ask you? Oh, I should think he\u2019s sure to.\nHasn\u2019t he asked you already?\u201d And Franceline, painfully conscious of ten\neyes staring at her, blushed deep crimson this time, and answered \u201cYes\u201d;\nand then, suddenly recollecting that she had something important to do,\nshe said good-by and hurried away. She had not closed the gate behind her\nwhen the five Misses Langrove who were \u201cout\u201d had rushed up to the nursery\nand informed the five who were not \u201cout\u201d that Franceline de la Bourbonais\nwas engaged to that handsome, rich young Mr. de Winton, who had \u00a360,000 a\nyear and the grandest place in Wales. Only fancy!\n\n\u201cHow stupid I was to get red like that, instead of telling the truth\nand asking Isabella to teach me how to do it!\u201d was Franceline\u2019s vexed\nexclamation to herself, as she entered the garden, and, swinging her\nsunshade, looked up at her doves perched on a branch just behind the\nchimney that was curling its blue rings up against the deeper purple of\nthe copper-beech.\n\n\u201cWhat is my child meditating on so solemnly?\u201d said M. de la Bourbonais,\nmeeting her at the door; and taking her face between his hands, he looked\ninto the dark, deep eyes that had never had a secret from him. Had they\nnow? He had watched her walking up the garden, and noticed that fold\nin the smooth, white brow; he was always watching her of late, though\nFranceline did not perceive it.\n\n\u201cI am worried, petit p\u00e8re. I wish I were not going to this ball!\u201d And she\nleaned her cheek against his with a sigh.\n\nRaymond started as if he had been stabbed.\n\n\u201cMy child! my cherished one! what is it? What has happened?\u201d\n\n\u201cO petit p\u00e8re! it\u2019s nothing,\u201d she cried eagerly, smitten with remorse by\nhis look of anguish. \u201cIt\u2019s not worth being unhappy about; only I never\nthought of it before, and now I\u2019m afraid it can\u2019t be helped. They will\nask me to dance, and I don\u2019t know how.\u201d\n\n\u201cMon Dieu! it is true. We should have thought of that. It was very\nheedless of us all. But there must be a master here who could give thee\nsome lessons, my child. We will speak to Miss Merrywig. Stay, where\u2019s my\nhat? There is no time to be lost.\u201d\n\nBut Franceline checked him. \u201cPetit p\u00e8re, I should be ashamed to get a\nmaster now; every one would know about it and laugh at me; all the young\ngirls would make such fun of me.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat dances dost thou want to dance?\u201d inquired her father, knitting his\nbrows, as if searching some forgotten clew in the background of memory;\n\u201cI dare say I could recall the _minuet de la cour_ a little, if that\nwould help thee.\u201d\n\n\u201cI never hear them speak of it. I don\u2019t think they dance that now; only\nquadrilles and waltzes,\u201d said Franceline.\n\n\u201cAh! quadrilles were after my day; but the _valse \u00e0 trois temps_ I knew\nonce upon a time. Come and let us see if I cannot remember it.\u201d\n\nThey went into the dining-room, pushed the table and chairs into a\ncorner, and M. de la Bourbonais, fixing his spectacles as a preliminary\nstep, put himself into position; his right foot a little in advance, his\neye-brows very much protruded, and his head bent forward; he made the\nfirst steps with hesitation, then more boldly, assisting his memory by\nhumming the tune of an old waltz.\n\nAng\u00e9lique, who was spinning in the room overhead, came down to see what\nthe table and chairs were making all this clatter about, and burst in on\na singular spectacle: her master pirouetting to the tune of _un, deux,\ntrois!_ round the eight-feet square apartment, while Franceline, squeezed\nagainst the wall, held up her skirt so as to afford a full view of her\nshabby little boots, and tried to execute the same evolutions in a space\nof one foot square.\n\n\u201cPapa is teaching me to waltz,\u201d explained the pupil, not looking up, but\nkeeping her eyes stuck on the professor\u2019s feet lest she should miss the\nthread of their discourse.\n\n\u201cWell, to be sure! To think of Monsieur le Comte\u2019s remembering his\nsteps at this time of day! What a wonderful memory monsieur has!\u201d was\nAng\u00e9lique\u2019s admiring comment.\n\n\u201cNow, then, shall we try it together?\u201d said M. de la Bourbonais, and\nplacing his arm round Franceline, the two glided round the room, the\nprofessor whistling his accompaniment with as much emphasis as possible,\nwhile the pupil counted one, two, three, and Ang\u00e9lique kept time by\nclapping her hands.\n\n\u201cOh, petit p\u00e8re, I shall do it beautifully!\u201d cried Franceline, suspending\nthe performance to give him an energetic kiss that nearly sent his\nspectacles flying across the room. \u201cNow if you only could teach me the\nquadrille!\u201d\n\nBut this recent substitute for the art of dancing was beyond the scope\nof Raymond\u2019s abilities; quadrilles, as he said, had come into fashion\nlong after his time. It was a grand thing, however, to have accomplished\nso much, and Franceline felt a sense of triumphant security in her\nnewly-acquired possession that cleared away all her tremors. She spent\nthe rest of the afternoon practising the _valse \u00e0 trois temps_, so as to\nbe quite perfect in it. Sir Simon found her thus profitably employed when\nhe came down just before his dinner with a newspaper.\n\n\u201cWhat were we all thinking about not to have remembered that?\u201d was his\nhorrified exclamation. \u201cWhy, of course you must know the quadrille; you\nwill have to open the ball, child. You must come up this evening to the\nCourt, and we\u2019ll have a private little dancing lesson, all of us, and put\nyou through the figures.\u201d\n\nAnd so they did; and the result was so successful that, when the great\nday came, Franceline felt quite sure of being able to behave like\neverybody else. Her dress came down with Mrs. de Winton on the eve of the\nball, and she was, in accordance with that lady\u2019s desire, to dress at the\nCourt under her supervision.\n\nIt was a new era in Franceline\u2019s life, finding herself arrayed in a fairy\nrobe of snow-white tulle, with wild roses creeping up one side of it,\nand a cluster of wild roses in her hair. Ang\u00e9lique stood by, surveying\nthe process of transformation with arms a-kimbo, too much impressed by\nthe splendors of the whole thing to vindicate her rights as _bonne_, and\nquite satisfied to see her natural functions usurped by nimble Croft,\nMrs. de Winton\u2019s maid. But when that experienced person whipped up the\ngossamer garment and shook it like an apple-tree, and tossed it with\na sweep over Franceline\u2019s head, it fairly took away her breath, for\nthe pink petals stuck on in spite of the shock, and the soft flounces\nfoamed all round just in the right place, rippling down from the neck and\nshoulders, and flowing out behind like a sea-wave. Then Croft crowned it\nall by planting the pink cluster in the hair just as if it grew there.\nMrs. de Winton came in at this crisis, however, and suggested that they\nwould be more becoming a little more to the front.\n\n\u201cWell, ma\u2019am, if you\u2019ll take the responsibility,\u201d demurred the abigail\nwith pinched lips, and stepping aside as if to get clear of all\nparticipation in the rash act herself, \u201cin course you can; but my maxiom\nalways was and is, as modesty is the most becoming ornament of youth; if\nyou put them roses forwarder, anybody\u2019ll see as how it was meant to be\na set-off to the complexion--as you might say, putting a garding rose\nalongside of a wild one, to see which was the best pink.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! indeed, it\u2019s very nicely done; it could not possibly be better,\u201d\nsaid Franceline earnestly. She was rather in awe of the fine lady\u2019s maid,\nand looked up appealingly to Mrs. de Winton not to gainsay her; but that\nserene lady paid no more heed to the abigail\u2019s protest than she might\nhave done to the snarling of her pet pug. With deft and daring fingers\nshe plucked out the flowers, pushed the rich, bright coils to one side so\nas to make room for them, and then planted them according to her fancy.\nIf the change were done with a view to the effect foretold by Mrs. Croft,\nthere was no denying it to be a complete success. Ang\u00e9lique, by way of\ndoing something, took up a candle and held it at arm\u2019s length over\nFranceline\u2019s head, making short chuckling noises to herself which the\ninitiated knew to be expressive of the deepest satisfaction.\n\n\u201cNow, my dear, I think you will do,\u201d said Mrs. de Winton, looking up and\ndown the young girl with a smile of placid assent, while she washed her\nlong, tapering hands with the old Lady-Macbeth movement; \u201clet us go down.\u201d\n\nSir Simon and the Admiral and M. de la Bourbonais were assembled in\nthe blue drawing-room, where the guests were to be received, when the\ntwo ladies entered. Mrs. de Winton, in the mellow splendor of purple\nvelvet, old point, and diamonds, looked like the protecting divinity of\nthe cloud-clad nymph tripping shyly after her. An involuntary murmur\nof admiration burst from the Admiral and Sir Simon, while M. de la\nBourbonais, all smiles and joy, came forward to embrace Franceline.\n\n\u201cO my dear child!\u2026\u201d\n\n\u201cCount, take care of her roses!\u201d cried Mrs. de Winton, ruffled into\nmotherly alarm as she saw Franceline, utterly oblivious of her headgear,\nnestling into her father\u2019s neck.\n\nRaymond started, and looked with deep concern to see if he had done any\nmischief. Happily not.\n\n\u201cCome here and let me look at you!\u201d said Sir Simon, holding her at\narm\u2019s length out before him. \u201cThey\u2019ve not made quite a fright of you, I\nsee--eh, admiral?\u201d\n\n\u201cDear Sir Simon, it\u2019s all a great deal too pretty. It\u2019s like being in a\nstory-book, my lovely dress and everything?\u201d said Franceline, standing on\ntip-toe to be kissed.\n\nMr. de Winton came in at this juncture.\n\n\u201cI say, Clide, it\u2019s rather hard on us to have to stand by and not follow\nsuit,\u201d grumbled the admiral.\n\nFranceline crimsoned up; the bare suggestion of such a possibility as\nthe words implied made her heart leap up with a wild throb. She did not\nmean to look at Clide, but somehow, involuntarily, as if moved by some\nmesmeric force, their eyes met. It was only for a moment, but that rapid,\nmutual glance sent the life-current coursing through her young veins with\nstrange thrills of joy. Clide had turned quickly to point out something\nin the decorations to his uncle, and Franceline slipped her arm into her\nfather\u2019s, and began to admire the beauty of the long vista of parlors\nleading on to the ball-room, where the orchestra was already inviting\nthem to the dance with abrupt flashes of music, one instrument answering\nanother in sudden preludes, or chords of sweetness \u201clong drawn out.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou have not seen the galleries yet,\u201d said Sir Simon; \u201ccome and look at\nthem before the crowd arrives.\u201d\n\nThey followed him into the Medusa gallery, and the transition from the\nbrilliant glare of wax-lights to the subdued twilight of the blue dome,\nwhere mimic stars were twinkling round a silver crescent, was so solemn\nand unexpected that Raymond and Franceline stood on the threshold with\na kind of awe, as if they had come upon sacred precincts. Tall ferns\nand palms nodded gently in the blue moonlight, swayed by some invisible\nagent. The change from this to the gaudy brilliancy of the Diana gallery\nwas in its way as striking; myriads of Chinese lanterns were swinging\nfrom the ceiling; some peeped through flowers and plants, and some were\nheld by Chinese mandarins with pig-tails and embroidered bed-gowns.\n\n\u201cAre they real Chinamen?\u201d enquired Franceline in a whisper, as she passed\nclose by one of them and met his eyes fixed on her with the appreciating\nglance of an outer barbarian.\n\n\u201cReal! To be sure they are. I imported a small cargo of them from Hong\nKong, pig-tails and all, for the occasion,\u201d replied Sir Simon.\n\nBut a twinkle in his eye, and a broad grin on the face of the genuine\nJohn Chinaman, belied this audacious assertion. Franceline laughed\nmerrily.\n\n\u201cHow clever of you to have invented it, and how exactly like real\nChinamen they are!\u201d she cried, intending to be complimentary to all\nparties; which the mandarin under consideration acknowledged by a slow\nbend of his skull-capped head and a movement of the left hand towards the\ntip of his nose, supposed to represent a native salutation.\n\n\u201cBestow your commendation where it is due,\u201d said Sir Simon; \u201cit\u2019s all\nthat young gentleman\u2019s doing,\u201d pointing with a jerk of his head towards\nClide, who had sauntered in after them. \u201cBut here comes somebody; we must\nbe under arms to receive them.\u201d\n\nThe baying of the bloodhounds chained in the outer court announced the\narrival of a carriage; they reached the reception-room in time to hear it\nwheeling up the terrace.\n\nAnd now the master of Dullerton Court was in his element. The tide of\nguests poured in quickly, and were greeted with that royal courtesy that\nwas his especial attribute. No matter what the worries and cares of life\nmight be elsewhere, they vanished as if by enchantment in the sunshine\nof Sir Simon\u2019s hospitality. He forgot nobody; the absent ones had their\ntribute of regret, and he remembered the precise cause of the absence:\nthe daughter who had an inopportune toothache, the son forced to remain\nin town on business, and the father pinned to his bed by the gout;\nSir Simon was so sorry for each individual absentee that while he was\nexpressing it you would have imagined this feeling must have damped his\njoy for the evening; but the cloud passed off when he shook hands with\nthe next arrival, and he was radiantly happy in spite of sympathetic gout\nand toothache.\n\nMrs. de Winton seconded her host well in doing the honors. If she was a\ntrifle stiff, it was such a graceful, well-bred stiffness that you could\nnot quarrel with it, and she neglected no one.\n\n\u201cThere are Mr. Langrove and the girls!\u201d exclaimed Franceline, in high\nexcitement, as if that inevitable spectacle were an extraordinary\nsurprise.\n\n\u201cOh! how gorgeous you are, Franceline,\u201d was Godiva\u2019s awe-stricken _sotto\nvoce_, as if she feared that loud speech might blow away the bubble.\n\n\u201cAnd what a delicious fan! Do let me look at it!\u201d panted Arabella in the\nsame subdued tone.\n\n\u201cOh! but look at her shoes,\u201d cried Georgiana, clasping her hands and\nlooking down, amazed, at the white satin toe, with its dainty pink\nrosette, that protruded from under the skirt.\n\n\u201cI\u2019m so glad you like it all,\u201d said Franceline, delighted at the _na\u00efve_\nand good-natured expressions of admiration. They were all as artless\nas birds, the Langrove girls, and had not a grain of envy in their\ncomposition.\n\n\u201cOh! there\u2019s Mr. Charlton,\u201d whispered Matilda, nudging Alice to look as\nthe observed-of-all-observers in Dullerton appeared in the doorway.\n\nThe room was now full to overflowing, and the crowd, swayed by one of\nthose spontaneous movements that govern crowds, suddenly poured out\nof the blue drawing-room into the adjoining ones, leaving the former\ncomparatively empty. Franceline was following the stream when Sir Simon\ncalled out to her:\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t run away; come here to me. I want to introduce you to my friend\nLady Anwyll. Mlle. de la Bourbonais--I was going to say, my daughter, but\nunfortunately she is only the daughter of my oldest friend and second\nself, the Comte de la Bourbonais; you have met him, I believe?\u201d\n\nLady Anwyll had had that distinction, and was charmed now to make his\ndaughter\u2019s acquaintance. She had none of her own to dispose of, which\nthe wily Sir Simon perhaps remembered when he singled her out for this\nintroduction.\n\n\u201cYou\u2019ll see that she has a few partners. I dare say they won\u2019t be very\nreluctant to do their duty with a little pressing.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s the only duty young men seem equal to nowadays,\u201d said the plump old\nlady, nodding in the direction of a group of the degenerate race; and she\ndrew Franceline\u2019s hand through her arm, and bore her off like a conquest.\n\n\u201cWho\u2019s that girl? She\u2019s awfully pretty! What color are her eyes--black,\nblue, or brown? I\u2019ve not seen such a pair of eyes this season, by Jove!\u201d\ndrawled a _blas\u00e9_ young gentleman from the metropolis.\n\n\u201cYou\u2019re a luckier man than your betters if you have ever seen a pair like\nthem,\u201d retorted Mr. Charlton, superciliously; \u201cthat\u2019s the belle of the\nevening, Mlle. de la Bourbonais.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou\u2019ll be a good fellow, and introduce me--eh, Charlton?\u201d said his\nfriend.\n\nBut Mr. Charlton turned on his heel without committing himself further\nthan by a dubious \u201cI\u2019ll see about it.\u201d His position as native gave him\nthe whip-hand over all interlopers, and he meant to let them know it.\n\nAnd now the orchestra has burst out in full storm, and engaged couples\nare hunting for each other amidst the vortex of tarlatan and dress-coats.\nClide has found his partner and led her to the top of the room, where Sir\nSimon and Lady Anwyll are waiting for their _vis-\u00e0-vis_. A little lower\ndown, Miss Merrywig is standing up with Mr. Charlton.\n\n\u201cHow very absurd of him, my dear,\u201d the old lady is protesting to Arabella\nLangrove, who made their _dos-\u00e0-dos_; \u201cbut he will have me dance the\nfirst quadrille with him. Was there ever anything so absurd!\u201d\n\nArabella was too polite to contradict her; and Mr. Charlton bent down\nto assure Miss Merrywig there was no one in the room he could have\nhalf as much pleasure in opening the evening\u2019s campaign with; a speech\nwhich was overheard by several neighboring young ladies, who commented\non it in their own way, while Franceline, who beheld with surprise the\nill-assorted couple stand up together, thought it showed very nice\nfeeling on the part of Mr. Charlton to have selected the dear old lady\nfor such a compliment, and that she looked very pretty in her lavender\nwatered silk and full blonde cap with streamers flying. But it was\nquite clear that Miss Bulpit thought differently. That estimable and\nzealous Christian had with much difficulty been persuaded by Sir Simon\nto condescend so far to sanction the vanities of the unconverted as to\nbe present at the ball, and she had discarded her funereal trappings of\nblack bombazine for the mitigated woe of black satin; but the cockade of\nlimp black feathers that sprouted from some hidden recess where her back\nhair was supposed to be protested sorrowfully against the glossy levity\nof her dress, and bobbed with a penitential expression that was really\naffecting. Mr. Sparks was hawking her about like a raven in a carnival.\n_He_ entered into her feelings; it was chiefly the desire to support her\nby his countenance and sympathy that had brought him to this scene of\nungodly dissipation.\n\nFranceline was terribly nervous in the first figure, and Clide felt it\nincumbent on him to give her his utmost help in the way of prompting\nbeforehand, and commendation when the feat was over. They got on\nswimmingly until the third figure, when she became hopelessly entangled\nin the ladies\u2019-chain, giving her hand to Lady Anwyll instead of Sir\nSimon, and then rushing back to Clide, while Sir Simon rushed after her\nand made everything inextricable.\n\n\u201cReally, governor, you\u2019re too bad!\u201d protested Mr. de Winton; \u201cwhy don\u2019t\nyou mind what you\u2019re about? You\u2019re putting my partner out disgracefully!\u201d\n\nSir Simon bore the broadside with heroic magnanimity, apologized to\neverybody all round, except Clide, who ought to have called him to order\nin time, and not let him go bungling on, confusing everybody. By the time\nhe had done scolding and they had all got into position again, the figure\nwas over. The rest of the quadrille was got through without any mishaps\nto speak of, and when Clide carried his partner off for a promenade in\nthe moonlit gallery, assuring her that she had done it all beautifully,\nFranceline felt that the praise, for being a trifle strained, was none\nthe less due. Other couples followed them in amongst the ferns and palms,\nand Franceline was soon besieged by entreating candidates for the next\ndances. Mr. Charlton came up with the graceful self-possession that\nbelongs to six thousand pounds a year and a decidedly handsome and rather\neffeminate face, and requested the favor of a quadrille. It was promised,\nand he stood by her side and in that earnest tone that was acknowledged\nto be so captivating by all the young ladies of Dullerton asked Mlle. de\nla Bourbonais if this was her first ball.\n\n\u201cAh! I thought so. One can always tell by the freshness with which\npeople enjoy it. For my own part, I confess I envy every one their first\nexperience of this kind; it so soon wears off--the pleasure, I mean--and\none feels the insipidity of it. Perhaps you already anticipate that?\u201d\nThere was a depth of expression in her face that suggested this remark.\nMr. Charlton considered himself a reader of character--a physiognomist,\nin fact.\n\n\u201cOh! no,\u201d exclaimed Franceline, with artless vehemence; \u201cI don\u2019t think I\nshould ever get tired of it; it\u2019s far more enjoyable than I imagined!\u201d\n\n\u201cAh, indeed! Well, just so; it\u2019s as people feel; for my part I think it\u2019s\na mistake--I mean getting _blas\u00e9_ of things;\u201d and he ran a turquoise and\ndiamond finger through his curly straw-colored hair.\n\n\u201cI hate people who are _blas\u00e9_,\u201d was the unconventional rejoinder; \u201cthey\nare always so tiresome and woe-begone. Papa always says he feels under\na personal obligation to people for being happy; they do him good--like\ndear little Miss Merrywig, for instance. I\u2019m sure she\u2019s not _blas\u00e9_ of\nanything; how she did enjoy herself in the quadrille! And it was so\npretty to see her dancing her demure little old-fashioned steps.\u201d\n\n\u201cShe\u2019s a very old friend of yours, is she not, Charlton?\u201d said Clide.\n\n\u201cOh! yes; since before I was born. She\u2019s a dear old girl, if she would\nonly not bother one to guess what she gave for her buttons,\u201d replied Mr.\nCharlton. \u201cBut just see here! Is our Christian friend trying to deal with\nRoxham?\u201d\n\nMiss Bulpit was coming across the conservatory out of the Diana gallery,\nleaning on Lord Roxham, with whom she was conversing in an earnest manner.\n\n\u201cOh! here you are, Roxham. I\u2019ve been hunting for you this quarter of an\nhour,\u201d called out Sir Simon, appearing from behind a mandarin who was\nholding a tray full of tea-cups to the company. \u201cFranceline, my friend\nLord Roxham has threatened to shoot me if I don\u2019t get him a dance from\nyou; so in self-defence I had to make over my right to the first waltz. I\ncouldn\u2019t do more, or less. What do you say, Miss Bulpit?\u201d\n\nMiss Bulpit considered Sir Simon was behaving very handsomely.\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s easy to be generous at other people\u2019s expense,\u201d observed Mr.\nde Winton, tightening his grasp on the light arm that was obediently\nslipping from him; \u201cit so happens that Mlle. de le Bourbonais has\npromised the first waltz to me.\u201d\n\n\u201cI\u2019m sorry to disappoint you, my dear fellow, but you might have had a\nlittle thought for other people\u2019s rights. You won\u2019t deny that I deserve\nan early favor?\u201d said the baronet, with playful peremptoriness.\n\n\u201cDear Sir Simon, I never thought of your asking me,\u201d said Franceline\npenitently.\n\n\u201cOh! that\u2019s it,\u201d said the baronet, shaking his head; \u201cthat\u2019s sure to\nbe the way of it; we poor old fogies get shoved out of the way by the\nyoungsters. Well, you see I\u2019m letting you off easier than you deserve.\nRoxham, we\u2019ll change partners, if Miss Bulpit does not object to taking\nan old man instead of a young one.\u201d\n\nFranceline was again going to draw her arm away, but again the tightening\ngrasp prevented her. She looked up at Clide; but he was looking away from\nher, his mouth set in a rigid expression, and an angry fold divided the\nstraight brows that lay like bars across his forehead.\n\n\u201cMlle. de la Bourbonais promised me this dance,\u201d he said, coldly, to Lord\nRoxham.\n\n\u201cBut I overrule the promise; she had no business to give it without\nconsulting me, naughty, unfeeling little person! Come, De Winton, make\nway for my deputy!\u201d And with a nod and a laugh that were clearly not to\nbe trifled with, he beckoned Clide to follow him.\n\nFranceline looked up with the beseeching glance of a frightened fawn\nas Clide released her arm, and with a low bow walked away. She was\nready to cry; but there was nothing for it but to accept Lord Roxham\u2019s\nproffered arm, and go into the ball-room where in a moment she was\ncaught up and was whirling mechanically along with the waltzers. She\nwas too preoccupied to be nervous about the performance that she had\nlooked forward to with so much trepidation, and so she acquitted herself\nadmirably. Her partner stopped after the first round to let her take\nbreath.\n\n\u201cYes, thank you, I am a little giddy; I am not accustomed to dancing.\u201d\n\nSo they stood under the colonnade. Lord Roxham would have been a pleasant\npartner if Franceline had been in a mood to enjoy his lively talk on all\nsorts of subjects. He saw there were likely to be breakers ahead between\nClide and some one about this dance; but he had had nothing to say to\nthat. He felt rather aggrieved than otherwise, being forced, as it were,\non a girl against her will, or at any rate without her being consulted.\nAnd it was hard on De Winton, whether he particularly held to his pretty\npartner or not. What the dickens did Harness mean by meddling in it at\nall? He was not given to putting spokes in other people\u2019s wheels. Lord\nRoxham was very intelligent, but though furnished with an average share\nof masculine conceit, it never occurred to him to think that the falling\nthrough of his marriage lately, and the fact of his being the eldest\nson of a peer with a fine estate--a good deal encumbered, but what of\nthat?--might afford any clue to Sir Simon\u2019s odd behavior.\n\n\u201cNo, I did not mean in the political issue of the contest; ladies are\nnot expected to take much interest in that part of the business,\u201d he was\nsaying to his partner; \u201cbut they are apt to get up very warm partisanship\nfor the candidates, irrespective of politics.\u201d\n\n\u201cWho are the candidates?\u201d inquired Franceline.\n\nLord Roxham laughed.\n\n\u201cPoor wretches! They _are_ to be pitied. Sir Ponsonby Anwyll on the\nConservative side and Mr. Charlton for the Liberals.\u201d\n\n\u201cMr. Charlton! He is then clever? Can he make speeches?\u201d\n\nLord Roxham laughed again, and hesitated a little before he replied:\n\u201cIt\u2019s rather a case, I fancy, of the man who could not say whether he\ncould play the fiddle, because he had never tried. We none of us know\nwhat we can do till we try. Charlton does not strike you as having the\nmaking of an orator in him, I see.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! I don\u2019t know. I spoke to him to-night for the first time; he did not\ngive me the idea of a person who could make speeches and laws; one must\nbe very clever to get into Parliament, must he not?\u201d\n\n\u201cIf elections were conducted on the competitive examination system, one\nmight assume that; but I\u2019m afraid we successful candidates can hardly\ntake our success as the test of merit,\u201d said her companion. \u201cI see you\nhave rather a high standard about electioneering.\u201d\n\nFranceline had no standard at all, and was full of curiosity to hear\nabout the mysteries of canvassing and constituents, and the poll,\nfrom some one who had gone through the various stages of the battle,\nfrom being pelted with rotten eggs on the hustings to the solemn\ntaking possession of a legislator\u2019s seat in the Imperial Parliament.\nA legislator must be a kind of hero. She was glad to have met one.\nLord Roxham, who liked to hear himself talk, proceeded to enlighten\nher to the best of his ability; he had no end of droll electioneering\nstories to tell, and scandalous tales of corruption through the medium\nof gin-shops, etc.; he opened her eyes in horror by his account of the\nrotten-borough system, and the rottenness of the law-making machine in\ngeneral, touching the heroes of the Liberal party with a light dash\nof satire and caricature that brought the dimples out in full force in\nFranceline\u2019s cheeks, and made her laugh merrily; in short, he was so\nlively and entertaining that she was quite sorry when he held out his arm\nfor them to start off again in the dance. As they stepped from under the\ncolonnade, she saw Clide leaning against a pillar at the other side, with\nhis eyes fixed on her.\n\n\u201cOh! stop, please,\u201d pleaded Franceline, after one turn over the spacious\nfloor, and they rested for a moment; just as they did so, a couple flew\npast--Mr. de Winton and a very beautiful girl, as tall as Franceline, but\nin no other way resembling her; her hair was black as ebony, with black\neyes and a clear olive complexion.\n\n\u201cWho is that lady?\u201d\n\n\u201cLady Emily Fitznorman, a cousin of mine.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow beautiful she is! I never saw any one so handsome!\u201d\n\n\u201cDid you not?\u201d with an incredulous smile, then looking quickly away. \u201cShe\nis a very striking person; she is the belle of _our_ county. You look\nwarm; shall we take a turn in the galleries?\u201d\n\nFranceline assented. Passing through the conservatory, they came upon\ntwo persons seated in a recess, partly screened by a large fan-leaved\nplant. It was Clide and Lady Emily; she was talking with great animation,\ngesticulating with her fan, while he sat in an attitude of deep\nattention, his elbows resting on his knees, and his head bent forward.\nFranceline felt a sudden shock at her left side, as if her heart had\nstopped, while a spasm of pain shot through her, making every fibre\ntingle. What was this olive-skinned beauty saying to Clide that he was\nlistening to with such rapt attention? He did not even look up, though\nhe must have seen who was passing. Poor Franceline! what tremor is this\nthat shakes her from head to foot, convulsing her whole being with one\nfierce throb of angry emotion! Poor human heart! the demon of jealousy\nhad but to blow one breath upon it, and she whose life had hitherto been\na sort of inverse metempsychosis of a lily and a dove, was transformed\ninto a woman fired with passionate vindictiveness, longing to snatch\nat another human heart and crush it. But the woman\u2019s pride, that woke\nup with the pain, came instinctively to her assistance. She began\ntalking rapidly to Lord Roxham, sinking her voice to the _sotto voce_\nof confidence and intimacy, so that he had to lower his head slightly\nto catch what she was saying; thus they swept by the two in the recess,\nwithout glancing towards them.\n\nClide meantime had seen it all. He had been straining every nerve to\ncatch what Franceline was saying, and was voting his friend Roxham a\nconfounded puppy, whose conceited head he would have much pleasure in\npunching on the first opportunity. He could not punch Sir Simon\u2019s, though\nhe deserved it more than Roxham.\n\n\u201cMay I ask you for an explanation of your behavior to me just now, Sir\nSimon?\u201d he had said to his host as soon as Miss Bulpit had set him free;\n\u201cwhat did you mean by interfering with me in that manner?\u201d\n\n\u201cDid I interfere with you?\u201d was the supercilious retort, with a bland\nsmile. \u201cI\u2019m very sorry to hear it; but I think I had a right to the\nsecond dance from a young lady whom I consider my adopted daughter.\u201d\n\n\u201cIf it had been for yourself I should have yielded without a word; but\nit was for Roxham you shoved me aside.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, suppose I choose to elect a deputy to do my duty? I had a right to\nchoose Roxham.\u201d\n\n\u201cI fancied I might have had a prior claim.\u201d\n\n\u201cIndeed! Then you should have told me so. How was I to know it?--Well,\nvicar, I see your young ladies are in great request; how does Miss Godiva\nhappen to be in your company?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat can he be driving at?\u201d muttered Clide, as his host turned away\nto get a partner for Godiva Langrove; \u201chas he been fooling me all this\ntime--is he playing me off against Roxham? And is she--\u201d He walked into\nthe ballroom, and there saw, as we know, Lord Roxham and Franceline very\nhappy in each other\u2019s society.\n\nHe went straight to Lady Emily Fitznorman, and asked her for the waltz\nthat was going on. She was _fianc\u00e9e_ to a friend of his, he knew; so\nhe was safe so far, and she had plenty to say for herself, and he must\ntalk to some one. He was not a man to show the white feather, whatever\nhe might feel. He kept steadily aloof from Franceline after this, and\nLord Roxham, taking for granted that he had been mistaken in his first\nimpressions, secured her for three more dances, which was all he dared do\nin the face of Dullerton.\n\nFranceline was grateful to him. She felt suddenly forsaken in the midst\nof the gay crowd, as if some protecting presence had been withdrawn.\nHer father was playing _piquet_ in some distant region where there were\ncard-tables. But even if he had been within reach, there was something\nstirring in her newly-awakened consciousness that would have prevented\nher seeking him. Clide should not see that he had grieved her. She could\nenjoy herself and be merry without him, and she would let him see it!\n\n\u201cHas the honor of taking you in to supper been already secured,\nmademoiselle?\u201d said Mr. Charlton, making sure at this early stage that it\nhad not, and coming up to claim it with the air of elaborate grace that\nsprings from the habit of easy conquest.\n\n\u201cYes, it has,\u201d replied Lord Roxham, quickly taking the answer out of\nFranceline\u2019s mouth. \u201cI was before you in the field, Charlton, I am happy\nto say.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow could you tell such a story?\u201d whispered Franceline, with an attempt\nto look shocked when Mr. Charlton had gone away.\n\n\u201cI told you everything was considered fair in electioneering,\u201d replied\nthe member of Parliament.\n\n\u201cThen electioneering must be very bad for everybody who has to do with\nit, if it teaches them to tell stories and call it fair.\u201d\n\nBut she promised, nevertheless, to act as accomplice in this particular\ncase of badness, and to let him take her in to supper. He came to claim\nhis privilege in due time, and they went in together. But the tables were\nalready so crowded that they could not find two contiguous seats. Some\none beckoned to Lord Roxham that there was a vacant chair higher up,\non a line with where they stood. He elbowed his way through the crowd,\nand seized the chair, and placed Franceline in it. She was sitting down\nbefore she noticed that her next neighbor was Clide de Winton. He was\nbusily attending to the wants of Lady Emily, but turned round quickly on\nfeeling the chair taken, and moved his own an inch or so to make more\nspace. At the same moment he looked up to see who Franceline\u2019s attendant\nwas. \u201cCan\u2019t you find a seat, Roxham? I\u2019ll make way for you presently. We\nhave nearly done.\u201d There was not a trace of vexation in his manner, or in\nhis face.\n\n\u201cNo hurry! I can bear up for ten minutes more,\u201d replied his friend,\ngood-humoredly; \u201cbut help me to attend to Mlle. de la Bourbonais. What\nwill you begin with?\u201d bending over her chair.\n\nFranceline did not care. Anything that was at hand.\n\n\u201cThen let me recommend some of this jelly; it is pronounced excellent by\nmy partner,\u201d said Clide, politely, and scanning the well-garnished table\nto see what else he could suggest.\n\n\u201cThank you. I will take some of these chocolate bonbons.\u201d\n\n\u201cNothing more substantial?\u201d\n\n\u201cBonbons are always nourishment enough for me. I think I could live on\nthem without anything stronger; I have quite a passion for them--my\nFrench nature coming out, you see.\u201d\n\nShe spoke very gayly. He helped her without looking at her. She made a\nfeint of nibbling the _pralines_, but she could not swallow; her heart\nwas beating so hard and loud she fancied Clide must hear it.\n\n\u201cRoxham, suppose you made yourself useful and get a glass of champagne\nfor these ladies,\u201d said Clide. \u201cWaylay that fellow with the bottle there.\u201d\n\nLord Roxham charged valiantly through the crowd, snatched the bottle from\nthe astonished flunky, and bore it away in triumph over the heads of the\nmultitude.\n\n\u201cWell done! That\u2019s what I call a brilliant man\u0153uvre,\u201d said Clide,\nlaughing. \u201cNo, you must help them yourself; you deserve that reward\nafter such a feat of arms, and Mlle. de la Bourbonais, who has a great\nadmiration for heroes, will drink to your health I daresay.\u201d\n\n\u201cI\u2019ve been trying to excite her admiration by the recital of my heroic\nexploits at the last elections; but I\u2019m afraid I rather scandalized her\ninstead,\u201d said the young man, as he poured the sparkling wine into her\nglass.\n\n\u201cServed you right,\u201d said Lady Emily, with cousinly impertinence; \u201cwhen\npeople fish for compliments they generally catch more snakes than eels.\u201d\n\n\u201cRoxham, will you reach me those sandwiches?\u201d cried a gentleman\nstruggling with a lady on his arm beyond arm\u2019s length of the table. Lord\nRoxham immediately went to his assistance, and some one else instantly\npressed into his place behind Franceline.\n\n\u201cWe had better go now, if you have quite finished,\u201d said Clide to Lady\nEmily.\n\nFranceline made a movement to rise, but sat down again; Clide\u2019s chair was\non her dress.\n\n\u201cOh! I beg your pardon. Have I done any mischief?\u201d he exclaimed, starting\nup and lifting his chair; the foot had caught in the tulle and made a\nslight rent.\n\n\u201cOh! I am so sorry. I beg your pardon a thousand times!\u201d he said with\ngreat warmth and looking deeply distressed.\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s of no consequence; it will never be noticed,\u201d she answered, gently.\n\n\u201cI am so sorry!\u201d Clide repeated. Their eyes met at last; he was disarmed\nin an instant.\n\n\u201cWill you dance with me now?\u201d he said almost in a whisper.\n\n\u201cYes.\u201d\n\nThey were soon in the ball-room again.\n\n\u201cWhy did you turn me off in that way? Was it that you preferred dancing\nwith Roxham?\u201d\n\n\u201cO Clide!\u201d The words escaped her like the cry of a wounded bird, and,\nwith as little sanction of her free will, the tears rose.\n\nHe made no answer--no audible one at least; but there is a language in a\nlook sometimes that is more eloquent than speech. Franceline and Clide\ndwelt for a moment in that silent glance, and felt that it was drawing\ntheir hearts together as flame draws flame.\n\nShe never knew how long the dance lasted; she only knew that she was\nbeing borne along, treading on air, it seemed to her, and encompassed by\nsweet sounds of music as in a dream. But the dream was over, and she was\nbeing steadied on her feet by the strong protecting arm, and Clide was\nlooking down upon her from his six feet of height, the frown that had\nmade the dark bars over his eyes look so formidable a little while ago\nquite vanished.\n\n\u201cIs Sir Simon angry with us?\u201d she asked, looking up into his face.\n\n\u201cNot he! Why should he be angry with us? And if he were, what does\nit matter?\u201d he added, in a voice of low-toned tenderness; \u201cwhat does\nanything matter so long as we are not angry with each other?\u201d\n\nHe drew her hand within his arm, and they walked on in silence.\nFranceline\u2019s heart was too full for words. Was it not part of her\nhappiness that this new-found joy should be overshadowed by a vague and\nnameless fear?\n\nTO BE CONTINUED.\n\n\nTHE CARDINALATE.\n\nSECOND AND CONCLUDING PAPER.\n\nThe manner of creating Cardinals has differed in different ages.\nMoroni[128] (_Dizionario_, ix. p. 300, _et seq._) gives a description\nof the ancient, the medi\u00e6val, and the modern ceremonies used on the\noccasion. In the earliest period of which there are details we know\nthat the pope created the cardinals on the ember-days of Advent in the\nchurches of the Station. There were three stages in the proceeding:\nthe first on Wednesday at S. Mary Major\u2019s, the second in the Twelve\nApostles\u2019, and the third in S. Peter\u2019s. The subjects of the cardinalate\nwere called out in the first two churches by a lector after the pope had\nread the Introit and Collect of the solemn Mass; but in the last one,\nthe pope himself declared such an one to be elected cardinal-priest, or\ndeacon, by a formula the beginning and essential words of which were:\n\u201cAuxiliante Domino Deo et Salvatore Nostro Jesu Christo, _eligimus_ in\nordinem diaconi Sergium (for instance) subdiaconum.\u201d The cardinal-elect\nthen received from the pope \u201cinter missarum solemnia,\u201d the necessary\nOrder of the diaconate or priesthood. In those days there was a much\nstricter connection required between the (sacred) character of a subject\nand his order in the cardinalate than there now is, when a bishop often\nbelongs to the presbyterial and a priest to the diaconal order. In the\nMiddle Ages, cardinals were no longer created during Mass or in church\nin presence of the people; but at the pope\u2019s residence of the Lateran,\nbefore the Sacred College. The season was still the same and the custom\nof creating them only on a fast-day of December lasted for over six\nhundred years.\n\nIn the medi\u00e6val creations three consistories were held in the Apostolic\nPalace, of which two were secret and one was public. In the first\nconsistory the pope deputed two cardinals to go around to the house of\nevery sick or legitimately-absent cardinal and get his opinion on these\npoints: Ought there to be a creation? And if so, of how many?\n\nOn the return of the deputies the pope asked the cardinals present the\nsame questions. All voted thereon; and after the votes had been counted,\nif the pope saw fit he pronounced that he followed the advice of those\nwho were in favor--\u201cNos sequimur consilium dicentium, quod fiant.\u201d Then\nthe cardinals voted on the number to be created, and after the counting\nof the votes, the pope said that he followed the advice of those who\nproposed that six (for instance) should be created--\u201cNos sequimur\nconsilium dicentium, quod fiant sex.\u201d After a recommendation to reflect\nmaturely, and deliberate upon the persons proper to be elected, the\nconsistory broke up. On the Friday following it assembled again, and\nwhen two cardinals, sent out for the purpose as on the first day, had\nreturned with the names of those suggested by the absent ones, the pope\ncommanded an empty chair to be brought--\u201cPortetur nuda cathedra.\u201d Then\nthe cardinals all stood up behind the two rows of benches that ran down\nthe great _aula consistorialis_, and the senior advanced and, sitting\ndown beside the pope, was made acquainted in a low voice with the names\nof those whom the pope wished to create, and was asked his opinion.\n\u201cQuid tibi videtur?\u201d As soon as the cardinal had answered, the next one\nwent up, and so on until all had been heard. The pope then announced\nthe result of this auricular consultation and declared such and such\npersons created cardinals of the Holy Roman Church. The next day a public\nconsistory was held in which they were solemnly published; after which\nthe elect were introduced and heard an allocution addressed to them by\nthe pope on the duties and dignity of their office, and received from\nhis hands the large hat, with the designation of their churches. All the\ncardinals dined that day with the pope, and in the afternoon the new ones\nwent in grand cavalcade to take possession of their Titles or Deaconries,\nas the case might be.\n\nIn more recent times, that is, about 1646, when Lunadoro wrote his\ncelebrated account of the Roman court,[129] the manner of creating was\nalmost as at present, except that the now unheard-of Cardinal _Nephew_\n(who was called in Italian--_vae, vae!_--Il cardinale _Padrone_) had a\nlarge share in the ceremonies, as he doubtless had a decided influence in\nthe nominations, and that the red _beretta_, or cap, was placed on the\nhead of the elect by the pope himself, with the words _Esto cardinalis_,\nand the sign of the cross. According to the modern ceremonial, the pope\nsummons a consistory, and, after delivering an appropriate address, asks\nthe cardinals their opinion with the customary (but, since the XVth\ncentury, rather perfunctory) formula, \u201cWhat think ye?\u201d Then they rise,\ntake off their caps, and bow assent; whereupon the pope proceeds to\ncreate the new cardinals in the words: \u201cBy the authority of Almighty God,\nof the blessed apostles Peter and Paul, and of our own, etc.\u201d\n\nOn account of the present Piedmontese occupation of Rome, the subsequent\nceremonial has to be dispensed with in the case of those cardinals who\nmay be there at the time of their elevation to the dignity. Those who\nare absent receive the lesser insignia of their rank from two papal\nmessengers; one of whom is a layman and member of the Noble Guard,\ncarrying the _zucchetto_, or skull-cap, the other an ecclesiastic of some\nminor prelatic rank in the pope\u2019s household, bringing the _beretta_. If\nthe head of the state be a Catholic, he is permitted to place the cap\n(brought by the ablegate) upon the new cardinal, the function taking\nplace in the royal chapel; but in other countries a bishop or archbishop\nis appointed by the pope for the purpose.\n\nAt one period, particularly during the XVIth century, many serious\nscandals were occasioned by the practice of betting on or against the\nadvancement of certain individuals to the cardinalate, and some who\nhad staked heavily were convicted of resorting to infamous calumnies\nto hinder the nomination of those against whom they had betted. Things\nfinally became so outrageous that Gregory XIV., in 1591, issued a bull\nin which excommunication, already declared, was pronounced against any\none who should presume to wager on the promotion of cardinals (Bul. 4,\nGregory XIV. _cogit nos_).\n\nThe expression applied to a cardinal of being or having been reserved\n_in petto_, means to be created but (for reasons known only to the pope)\nnot published or promulgated as such. It is not certainly known when\nthis practice began, and the subject has been so often confounded with\nthat of _secret_ creation that it is difficult to assign a precise date.\nThe secret creation was simply the creation of a cardinal without the\nusual ceremonial. It originated with Martin V. (Colonna), probably urged\nthereto by the jealousies and dangers that still lingered after the great\nschism of the West was happily ended. The other cardinals were consulted,\nand notice was given to the honored individual, who was not, however,\nallowed to assume the distinctive ornaments or the station of his rank.\nIn the _in petto_ appointments, only the pope and perhaps his _Uditore_,\nor some extremely confidential person bound to secrecy, know the names\nof those reserved. It is related of a certain prelate, Vannozzi, who was\nmuch esteemed by Gregory XIV. for his varied learning and long services,\nthat having been commissioned one day to take note of the names of a few\ncardinals to be created in the next consistory, he had the satisfaction\nto be ordered to write his own name in the list. Although bound to\nsecrecy, he was weak enough to give in to the importunate solicitations\nof the Cardinal Nephew and show him the paper, which coming to the pope\u2019s\nears, he called the prelate and made him erase his name--and that was the\nend of Vannozzi.\n\nA cardinal created, but reserved _in petto_, if he be subsequently\npublished, takes precedence of all others (in his order) created\nsubsequently, notwithstanding the reservation. If the pope wish to create\nand reserve in this manner, after publishing the names of the cardinals\ncreated in the ordinary way, he uses the formula: \u201cAlios autem duos (for\nexample) in pectore reservamus arbitrio nostro quandocumque declarandos.\u201d\nIt is believed that Paul III. (Farnese, 1534-49) was the first to reserve\n_in petto_; and we think that he may have done so to reward attachment\nto faith and discipline in that heretical age without seeming to do\nso too openly, to avoid its having an interested look. The celebrated\nJesuit (himself a cardinal) and historian of the Council of Trent, Sforza\nPallavicini, gives a curious reason--that certainly shows how great was\nthe idea entertained in his day, the middle of the XVIIth century, of\nthe Roman cardinalate--why the expression _creation_ of a cardinal is\nofficially used; and says (vol. 1. p. xiii.) that it is meant to intimate\nby the word that the excellence of the dignity is so exalted that all\ndegrees of inferior rank are as though they were not; so that when the\npope makes a man a cardinal, it is as if in the sphere of honors he\ncalled him out of non-existence into being.\n\nIn the first consistory held, in which the newly-created cardinals\nappear, the pope performs on them the ceremony of Sealing the Lips (more\nliterally of Closing the Mouth). It is done in the following formula:\n\u201cClaudimus vobis os, ut neque in consistoriis neque in congregationibus\naliisque functionibus cardinalitiis sententiam vestram dicere valeatis.\u201d\nAt the end of the consistory, when the junior cardinal-deacon rings\na little bell, the pope unseals their lips by saying (in Latin): \u201cWe\nopen your mouths, that in consistories, congregations, and other\necclesiastical functions, ye may be able to speak your opinion. In\nthe name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost, Amen\u201d;\nmaking over them meanwhile three times the sign of the cross. This\ncustom must be pretty old, for it is mentioned in the XIIIth century\nby Cardinal (Stefaneschi) Gaetani, nephew of Pope Boniface VIII., as\nalready in existence. It has been conjectured that the intention of such\na ceremony was to pass the newly-created cardinals through a kind of\nnovitiate before receiving what is called, in canon law, the active and\npassive voice, _i.e._, the right of electing and of being elected to the\npontificate; but it may also have been intended to impress upon them the\nnecessity of prudence and modesty of speech in such august assemblies.\n\nThe College of Cardinals is the seed and germ of the papacy, and the\ngreatest act that one of its members can perform is to take part in a\npapal election. This is done in a convention called the _Conclave_, which\nis subject to many regulations, as becomes so important an occasion. The\npresent order of this assembly dates from the pontificate of Gregory\nXV., in 1621. When Rome was not occupied by some sacrilegious invader,\nit took place in the Quirinal Palace by secret voting, the votes being\nopened and counted in a chapel called, from the circumstance, _Capella\nScrutinii_. When the election was complete, the senior cardinal-deacon,\nwhose office corresponds to that of the ancient archdeacons of the Roman\nChurch, announced it to the people. Originally, however, the cardinals\nwere not the only electors of the pope, but any foreign bishop in\ncommunion with the Holy See, who happened to be present during a vacancy,\nwas permitted to take part in the election. Thus, when Cornelius was\nexalted to the Chair of Peter, in 254, sixteen such bishops, of whom\ntwo were from Africa, concurred in the act. The rest also of the Roman\nclergy had some voice in the election, but it was greatly weakened by\nPope Stephen III. _alias_ IV., in a council held at the Lateran in the\nyear 769, who made it obligatory to elect a member of the Sacred College.\nAlexander III., by the advice and with the approval of the eleventh\nGeneral Council (third of Lateran), in 1179, considering the difficulties\narising out of a great number of electors (no less than thirty-three\nschisms having already been occasioned thereby), solemnly decreed that\nin future the cardinals alone should have the right to choose, confirm,\nand enthrone the pope, and that two-thirds of the votes cast would be\nnecessary for a canonical election. Lucius III., his successor in 1181,\nwas the first pope elected in this manner by the exclusive action of the\nSacred College. This wise provision was confirmed for the edification\nof the faithful, and to show that the bishops dispersed throughout the\nchurch did not claim any share in the election of its head, by the\ngeneral councils of Lyons (IId) in 1274, and Vienne in 1311. But once\nsince have any others had an active voice in the matter, which was at\nConstance, when the twenty-three cardinals, to put an end to the schism,\nopened the conclave for this time only to thirty prelates, six from\neach of the five great nations represented there. This resulted in the\nelection of Martin V. (Colonna) on November 11, 1417. Since the year\n1378 no one not a cardinal has been elected pope; but before that time\na good many, despite the decree of Stephen III. (or IV.), were elected\nwithout being cardinals; six in the XIth, two in the XIIth, three in the\nXIIIth, and three in the XIVth century. Of these were S. Celestine V.\nand, before him, Blessed Gregory X. A curious circumstance attended the\nelection of the latter, in which the cardinals were treated as jurymen\nwho are locked up until they agree upon a verdict. After the death of\nClement IV., in 1268, the Holy See was vacant longer than ever before,\nviz., two years nine months and two days, on account of the dissensions\nof the eighteen cardinals who composed the Sacred College. The conclave\nwas held at Viterbo; but, although King Philip III. of France and Charles\nI. of Sicily went there to hasten the election, and S. Bonaventure,\ngeneral of the Franciscans, induced the towns-people to keep the fathers\nclose prisoners in the episcopal palace, nothing availed, until the happy\nthought struck Raniero Gatti, captain of the city, to take off the roof,\nso that the rain would pour in on wet, and the sunshine on hot days.[130]\nThis had the desired effect, and after S. Philip Beniti, general of\nthe Servites, had refused the offer of election, the cardinals promptly\nagreed upon Theobald Visconti, archdeacon of Liege, and apostolic legate\nin Syria. It was on this occasion that an episcopal quasi-poet improvised\nthe leonine verses:\n\n    \u201cPapatus munus tulit Archidiaconus unus,\n    Quem Patrem Patrum fecit discordia Fratrum.\u201d\n\nAbout this time it became customary for the cardinals to act as\n\u201cprotectors\u201d of nations, religious orders, universities, and other great\ninstitutions, which were liable to be brought into relations with the\nHoly See more frequently then than at present; but Urban VI., in 1378,\nwithout absolutely prohibiting this species of patrocination, forbade\ncardinals to accept gifts or any kind of remuneration from those whose\ninterests they guarded. Martin V. in 1424, Alexander VI. in 1492, and\nLeo X. in 1517, issued various decrees to moderate or entirely abolish\nsuch an use of their influence by the cardinals for private parties,\nbecause it might easily, under certain circumstances, stand in the way\nof that impartial counsel to the pope and equity of action to which they\nwere bound before all things. Yet it shows the immense importance of the\ncardinalate in the XIVth and XVth centuries, that powerful sovereigns\ngave to individuals in the Sacred College the high-sounding title of\nprotectors of their kingdoms. At the present day, cardinals are allowed\nto assume, gratuitously, a care of the interests of religious orders,\nacademies, colleges, confraternities, and other institutions, mostly in\nRome, which may choose to pay them the compliment of putting themselves\nunder their patronage.\n\nIn the IXth century, S. Leo IV. made a rule that the cardinals should\ncome to the apostolic palace twice a week for consistory, and John VIII.,\ntowards the end of the same century, furthermore ordered them to meet\ntogether twice a month to treat of various affairs appertaining to their\noffice. We find here the beginning of those later celebrated assemblies\ncalled Roman Congregations, which are permanent commissions to examine,\njudge, and expedite the affairs of the church throughout the world. Each\ncardinal is made a member of four or more of these congregations, and\na cardinal is generally at the head--with the name of prefect--of each\nof those the presidency of which the pope has not reserved to himself.\nIt is always from among the cardinals that the highest officials of the\nChurch in Rome and of the Sacred College are chosen. The former are the\npalatine cardinals, so called because they are lodged in some one of\nthe pontifical palaces and enjoy the fullest share of the sovereign\u2019s\nconfidence and favor. They are at present four in number, viz., the\npro-datary, secretary of briefs, of memorials, of state. Next come\nthe cardinal vicar, grand penitentiary, chamberlain, vice-chancellor,\nlibrarian. The cardinal-archpriests are at the head of the three great\npatriarchal basilicas of S. John of Lateran, S. Mary Major, and S. Peter.\nThe officials of the Sacred College number five, who are all, except one,\n_ex-officio_; these are: the dean, who is always Bishop of Ostia and\nVelletri, is head of the Sacred College, and represents it on certain\noccasions of state, as when he receives the first visit of princes and\nambassadors, and expresses to the Holy Father any sentiments that he and\nhis colleagues may wish to announce in a body. The sub-dean supplies\nhis place when absent, or incapacitated from whatever cause. The First\nPriest and First Deacon, who were anciently called the Priors of their\norder, have precedence, other things being equal, over those of the same\nclass, besides certain rights and privileges of particular importance\nduring a vacancy of the See. The chamberlain is appointed annually in the\nfirst consistory held after Christmas. His office is not so venerable or\nso significant as the others are in times of extraordinary occurrences;\nbut in days of peace it is of the highest practical importance. It was\ninstituted under Leo X., but received its present development under Paul\nIII., in 1546. Each cardinal habitually residing in Rome must serve in\nhis turn, beginning with the dean and ending with the junior deacon. From\nthis arrangement it may be imagined that few cardinals live long enough\nin the dignity to have to assume more than once the rather onerous duties\nof the office.\n\nThe pope gives the chamberlain possession in the same consistory at\nwhich he has been named, by handing him a violet silk purse fringed with\ngold and containing certain consistorial papers and the little balls\nused by the cardinals to vote with in the committees in which they treat\nof their corporate affairs. The principal duties of the chamberlain\nare of a two-fold character: as chancellor, to sign and register all\ncardinalitial acts, and as treasurer, to administer any property that may\nbe held in common by the cardinals. He is assisted in his office by a\nvery high prelate, who is secretary of the Sacred College and consistory.\nThe archives are in a chamber of the Vatican palace assigned for the\npurpose by Urban VIII., in 1625. The chamberlain is also charged to sing\nthe Mass at the solemn requiem of a cardinal dying during his tenure of\noffice, and on November 5 for all deceased cardinals. But if he be of\nthe order of deacons, even if he have received the priesthood, he must\ninvite a cardinal of the higher order to officiate. This anniversary was\nestablished by Leo X. in 1517.\n\nOn account of the great antiquity of the cardinalate, there are many\nthings of minor importance connected with it that are buried in the\nobscurity of ages. Such are appellations of honor and distinctions in\ndress; but all writers agree that after the IXth century there was a\nremarkable increase in what we might call the accessories of this great\noffice. Passing over a decree which Tamagna (who yet is an authority on\ncardinalitial matters) ascribes to the Emperor Constantine, in which\nthe cardinals of the Holy Roman Church were put on the same footing\nbefore the state with senators and consuls, and received other marks\nof imperial favor, it is certain that during the Middle Ages they were\nfrequently called senators, were styled individually _Dominus_, and\naddressed as _Venerande Pater_, as we learn from a memorandum drawn up\nby a Roman canonist in 1227. In the accounts of the Sacred College from\nthe beginning of the XIVth century up to the year 1378, the cardinals are\ncalled _Reverendi Patres et Domini_. But from this period they assumed\nthe superlative, and up to the whole of the XVth century were styled\n_Reverendissimi_.[131] Urban VIII., on the 10th of June, 1630, gave\nthem the title of eminence, which was not, however, unknown to the early\nMiddle Ages, when it was given to certain great officers of the Byzantine\nEmpire in Italy. Urban\u2019s immediate successor, Innocent X., forbade\ncardinals to use any other designation than that of cardinal, or title\nthan that of eminence, or to put any crown, coronet, or crest above their\narms, which were to be overarched by the hat alone. When Cardinal de\u2019\nMedici read the decree, with what was then in such a personage considered\nexemplary submission, he requested his friends and the members of his\nhousehold never to call him highness any more, and immediately had the\ngrand-ducal crown removed from wherever it was blazoned. In course of\ntime, however, cardinals of imperial or royal lineage were allowed to\nassume a style expressive of their birth; thus the last of the Stuarts,\nthe Cardinal Duke of York, etc., was always called Royal Highness at\nRome. The pope writes to a cardinal-bishop as \u201cOur venerable brother,\u201d\nbut to a cardinal-priest or deacon as \u201cOur beloved son\u201d; and a cardinal\nwriting to the pope who has raised him to the purple should add at the\nend of his letter, after all the other formulas of respectful conclusion,\nthe words, _et creatura_. Although the cardinals hold a rank so exalted,\nthey are in many ways made to remember their complete dependence in\necclesiastical matters upon the sovereign pontiff. There is a peculiar\nact of homage due by them to the pope, which is called _Obedience_, and\nconsists in going up publicly one by one in stately procession, with\n_cappa magna_ of royal ermine, and outspread trailing scarlet robe, to\nkiss the ring after making a profound inclination to the pontiff sitting\non his throne. This is surely the grandest sight of the Sistine Chapel,\nand we have often thought in seeing it what a good reminder it was to\nthose most eminent spiritual princes that, how great soever they might\nbe, they were after all but the rays of a greater luminary without which\nthey would have no existence. The obedience is done at Mass and Vespers;\nbut never twice on the same day, nor in services for the dead.\n\nThe color of a cardinal\u2019s dress is red, unless he belong to a religious\norder, in which case he retains that of his habit, but uses the same\nform of dress as the others. In 1245, Innocent IV. conferred upon the\ncardinals at the first Council of Lyons the famous distinction of the\nred hat, which is so peculiarly the ornament of their rank that, in\ncommon parlance, to \u201creceive the hat\u201d is the same as to be raised to the\ncardinalate. The special significance of the hat is, that it is placed\nby the hands of the pope himself upon the dome of thought and seat of\nthat intellect by which the cardinal will give learned and loyal counsel\nin the government of the church; and its color signifies that the wearer\nis prepared to lose the last drop of his blood rather than betray his\ntrust. Our readers will be reminded here of that angry vaunt of Henry\nVIII. about Fisher, Bishop of Rochester, who was lying in prison because\nhe would not acknowledge the royal supremacy in matters of religion.\nWhen news came to England that Paul III. had raised him to the purple,\nthe king exclaimed, \u201cThe pope may send him the hat, but I will take care\nthat he have no head to wear it on\u201d; in fact, the bishop was shortly\nafterwards beheaded. This hat is now one of ceremony only, and serves\nbut twice: once, when the cardinal receives it in consistory, and next\nwhen it rests upon the catafalque at his obsequies. It is then suspended\nfrom the ceiling of the chapel or aisle of the church in which he may be\nburied. The form is round, with a low crown and wide, stiff rim, from the\ninside of which hang fifteen tassels attached in a triangle from one to\nfive. At the ceremony of giving the hat the pope says, in Latin: \u201cReceive\nfor the glory of Almighty God and the adornment of the Holy Apostolic\nSee, this red hat, the sign of the unequalled dignity of the cardinalate,\nby which is declared that even to death, by the shedding of thy blood,\nthou shouldst show thyself intrepid for the exaltation of the blessed\nfaith, for the peace and tranquillity of the Christian people, for the\nincrease and prosperity of the Holy Roman Church. In the name of the\nFather \u2720; and of the Son \u2720; and of the Holy \u2720 Ghost. Amen.\u201d Paul II., in\n1464, added other red ornaments, and among them the red _beretta_ or cap\nto be worn on ordinary occasions; but cardinals belonging to religious\norders continued to use the hood of their habit or a cap of the same\ncolor, until Gregory XIV. made them wear the red. This point of costume\nis illustrated by an anecdote which we have heard from an eye-witness; it\nalso shows that one should not be sure of promotion--until it comes.\n\nPope Gregory XVI. was a great admirer of a certain abbot in Rome,\nwhose habit was white, and rumor ran that he would certainly be made\na cardinal. Some time before the next consistory, the pope, with a\nconsiderable retinue--it was thought significantly--went to visit\nthe monastery, the father of which was this learned monk, and there\nrefreshments were served in the suite of apartments called, in large\nRoman convents, the cardinal\u2019s rooms, because reserved for the use of\nthat dignitary, should one be created belonging to the order. When\nthe trays of delicious pyramidal ice-creams were brought in, the pope\ndeliberately took the _white_ one presented to him on bended knee by a\nchamberlain and handed it to the Lord Abbot sitting beside and a little\nbehind him, then took a _red_ one for himself. No one, of course, began\nuntil Gregory had tasted first, and while all eyes were on him he took\nthe top off his own ice-cream, turned and put it on his neighbor\u2019s,\nsaying with a smile as he looked around him, \u201cHow well, gentlemen,\nthe red _caps_ the white!\u201d Alas! the poor abbot; he understood it as\ndoubtless was meant he should, but he was foolish enough to act upon\nit, and procure his scarlet outfit. This came to the ears of the pope,\nwho was so displeased that he scratched him off the list, nor could any\nfriends ever get him reinstated; and it was only when Cardinal Doria\nsaid that he was positively wasting away with the disappointment and\nmortification, that the pope consented to make him an archbishop _in\npartibus_.\n\nIn the greater chapels, in the grand procession on Corpus Christi, and on\nother occasions the cardinal-bishops wear copes fastened by a pectoral\njewel called _Formale_, which is of gold ornamented with three pine cones\nof mother-of-pearl, the priests (even though they may have the episcopal\ncharacter) wear chasubles, and the deacons dalmatics, but all use white\n_damask_ mitres with red fringes at the extremity of the bands. In their\nTitles and Deaconries, also elsewhere, when they officiate, the cardinals\nhave the use of pontificals. The custom of wearing mitres is said to have\nbegun for cardinals of the two lower orders only in the XIth century. One\nof the distinctive ornaments of a cardinal is the gold ring set with a\nsapphire, and engraved on the metal surface of the inside with the arms\nof the pope who has created him. It is put on his finger by the Sovereign\nPontiff with these words, some of which are omitted in the case of\ndeacons: \u201cFor the honor of Almighty God, of the holy apostles SS. Peter\nand Paul, and of the blessed N. N. (naming the Title) we commit unto thee\nthe church of ---- (naming it), with its clergy, people, and succursal\nchapels.\u201d The actual value of this ring is only twenty-five dollars, but\nfor many centuries the newly-created cardinal has been expected to give\na large sum of money for some pious purpose, which was different under\ndifferent popes, but was perpetually allotted by Gregory XV., in 1622, to\nthe Sacred Congregation for the Propagation of the Faith. Students of the\nPropaganda will remember the elegant tablet and commemorative inscription\noriginally set up in the college church, but now encased in the wall near\nthe library. For a long time the sum was larger than at present and was\npaid in gold, but in consideration of the general distress in the early\npart of this century Pius VII. reduced it to six hundred scudi of silver,\nequal to about seven hundred and fifty dollars of our paper money. The\nlast cardinal who gave the full amount before the reduction was Della\nSomaglia, in 1795.\n\nThe Roman ceremonial shows the singular importance of the cardinalate,\nby the disposition ordered to be made of its members even after death.\nIt is prescribed that when life has departed a veil be thrown over the\nface, and the body, dressed in chasuble if bishop or priest, otherwise in\ndalmatic, shall lie in state.\n\nThe hat used in his creation must be deposited at his feet, and after\nhis funeral be suspended over his tomb. His body must be laid in a\ncypress-wood coffin in presence of a notary and his official family,\na member of which--the major-domo--lays at his feet a little case\ncontaining a scroll of parchment on which has been written a brief\naccount of the more important events of his life. Then the first coffin\nis enclosed in another of lead, and the two together in a third one of\nsome kind of precious wood, each coffin having been sealed with the seals\nof the dead cardinal and the living notary. The body thus secured is\nborne by night with funeral pomp of carriages and torches and long array\nof chanting friars to the church of requiem, where it remains until the\nday appointed for the Mass, at which the cardinals and pope are present,\nand the latter gives the final absolution.\n\nWhen carriages first came into use in Italy, which was about the year\n1500, they were considered effeminate and a species of refined luxury, so\nmuch so that Pius IV., at a consistory held on November 27, 1564, in a\ngrave discourse exhorted the cardinals not to use a means of conveyance\nfit only for women, but to continue to come to the palace in the virile\nmanner that had been so long the custom--that is, on horseback; and\nreminded them that when the Emperor Charles V. returned into Spain from\nhis visit to Italy, he had said that no sight pleased him there so\nmuch as the magnificent cavalcade of the cardinals on their way to the\nchapels and consistories. After this they always rode or were carried in\nlitters or sedan-chairs, until the beginning of the XVIIth century, when\nit became impossible any longer to hinder them from using the new and\nmore convenient style which had become general for all people of means.\nUrban VIII., in 1625, by ordering cardinals to put scarlet head-gear on\ntheir horses, seemed to sanction the change; but it appears to have been\nabused, by some at least, in a manner described by Innocent X. (1676),\nin a pathetic address, as ill becoming those who had renounced the pomps\nand vanities of the world. We may get an idea of the ostentation, when\nwe know that but a few years previously Maurice of Savoy (who afterwards\nby permission renounced the cardinalate for reasons of state) used to go\nto the Vatican with a following of two hundred splendid equipages and\na numerous escort of horsemen in brilliant uniforms. The modern custom\n(which has been interrupted by the Italian usurpers) is certainly very\nmodest.\n\nThe cardinals proceed to the minor functions with a single carriage and\ntwo on gala days, but princes by birth have three.\n\nEach carriage is red, finished with gilt ornaments, and drawn by a pair\nof superb black horses from a particular breed of the Campagna. The\nscarlet umbrella carried by one of the somnolent footmen behind is seldom\ntaken out of its cover, being merely a reminiscence of the old fashion\nwhen their eminences rode, and it might be of service against the rain or\nthe sun.\n\nCardinals belonging to a religious order of monks or friars who wear\nbeards retain them after their exaltation; but others must be clean\nshaven. There have been considerable changes in this matter, and\ncardinals wore no beards in the XVth century. In fact, the long, silky,\nand well-cultivated beard of Bessarion (a Greek) lost him the election\nto the papacy after the death of Nicholas V., in 1455. It was also the\noccasion of his death with chagrin at an atrocious insult offered him by\nLouis XI. of France; for being on an embassy to compose the differences\nbetween that monarch and the Duke of Burgundy, he wrote to the latter\nstating the object of his mission before having made his visit to the\nformer, which so enraged that punctilious king that when the legate came\nthe first thing he did was to pull his magnificent beard and say:\n\n    \u201cBarbara graeca genus retinent quod habere solebant.\u201d\n\nUnder the pontificate of Julius II., who gave the example, cardinals wore\nlong beards; but in the next century only mustaches and _la barbetta_\n(the \u201cgoatee\u201d)--varied among the more rigid by just a little bit beneath\nthe under lip, and called a _mouche_ by the French--were retained until,\nin the year 1700, Clement XI. introduced the perfectly beardless face,\nwhich now shows itself under the _beretta_ (Cancellieri, _Possessi de\u2019\nPapi_, page 327).\n\nNot to mention S. Lawrence, who is generally reckoned an archdeacon\n(_i.e._, cardinal first deacon) of the Roman Church, or S. Jerome, in\nvindication of whose cardinalate Ciacconius wrote a special treatise\n(Rome, 1581), the Sacred College counts among its members fifteen saints\neither canonized or beatified. The first is S. Peter Damian, in 1058,\nand the last Blessed Pietro-Maria Tommasi, in 1712. The cardinals\nhave the privilege of a _Proprium_ for these in the Office. There are\nbesides nine others popularly venerated as Blessed, but without warrant\nfrom the Holy See that we are aware of. The noblest families of Europe,\nimperial, royal, and of lower rank, have been represented in the Sacred\nCollege, those of Italy, of course, preponderating: and no other one,\nwe believe, has had so many cardinals as that of Orsini, which claims\nover forty-two, beginning with Orsino, cardinal-priest A.D. 500. Yet\nmerit has never been refused a place among its members because it made\nno \u201cboast of heraldry\u201d or other pretension to social superiority. Where\nso many have been distinguished in a very high degree, it is difficult\nto select half a dozen names from as many different nations that have\nbeen represented in the Sacred College, and that stand out above all the\nrest in their several countries. Among the Germans, Nicholas de Cusa,\nin 1448, is superior to all others for his intrepid defence of the Holy\nSee and his immense learning, especially in mathematics. He discovered\nthe annual revolution of the earth around the sun before Copernicus or\nGalileo were born. Among the Spaniards, Ximenes, in 1507, is easily\nchief, as a minister of state and encourager of education. In England,\nWolsey, created by Leo X., in 1515, although Panvinius (_Epitome_, p.\n377) insolently calls him \u201cthe scum and scandal of the human race,\u201d is\nthe greatest figure, and needs no praise. In Scotland, Beaton is first\nas state minister and patron of learning. He was put to death in hatred\nof the faith which could not be subverted while he lived. Among the\nItalians, Bellarmine may be placed first; certainly no other cardinal\nhas filled so often and so long the minds of the adversaries of the\nfaith. Clement VIII., in 1599, when he created him, said that there was\nno one his equal for learning in all the church. In France, Richelieu,\nthe greatest prime minister that ever lived, and the savior of the\ngovernment and the church by effectually putting down the rebellious\nHuguenots. Everything that is good and very little comparatively that\nis bad has been represented in the Sacred College; but lest we should\nbe thought to flatter we will give a few examples that show how no\nbody of men is entirely above reproach. Moroni has a special article\non pseudo-cardinals and another on cardinals who have been degraded\nfrom their high and sacred office. We say nothing of the former, or we\nwould be led into an interminable article on the ambition, intrigue,\nand schisms that have disgraced individuals and injured the church.\nBoniface VIII. was obliged to degrade and excommunicate the two turbulent\nColonnas, uncle and nephew; but doing penance under his successor,\nthey were restored. Julius II. and Leo X. had difficulties with some\nof their cardinals, and one of them, Alfonso Petrucci, for conspiring\nagainst the sovereign, was decapitated in Castle Sant\u2019 Angelo on July\n6, 1517. Odet de Coligni, who had been made a cardinal very young at\nthe earnest request of Francis I., afterwards embraced Calvinism, and,\nas usual with apostates, embraced something else besides. Although he\nhad thrown off his cassock, yet when Pius IV. pronounced him degraded\nand excommunicated, he resumed it, out of contempt, long enough to get\nmarried in his red robes. Cardinals Charles Caraffa[132] and Nicholas\nCoscia[133] in Italy; de Rohan[134] of the Diamond Necklace affair,\nand de Lom\u00e9nie de Brienne[135] in France, _if_, on the one hand, they\nhave not been what we would expect from those so highly honored, on the\nother, they give us proofs of the impartial justice of the popes, and\nthat no one in their eyes is above the law. Among the curiosities of the\ncardinalate is that of Ferdinand Taverna, Bishop of Lodi, who was raised\nto the purple in 1604, and died of joy. This reminds us that Cancellieri,\nwith his usual singularity of research, has a passage in his work on\nthe _Enthronement of the Popes_, about \u201cpersons who have gone mad or\ndied of grief because they were not made cardinals,\u201d and tells of one in\nparticular who hoped to make his way by his reputation for learning, and\nhad a little red hat hung up above his desk to keep himself perpetually\nin mind of the prize he was ambitiously seeking--and, of course, never\nfound. Poor human nature! The importance of the telegraph as a means of\navoiding inconvenient nominations is shown by a good many cases of men\nelevated to the cardinalate when they were already dead. Three occurred\nin the XIVth century; but as late as 1770 Paul de Carvalho, brother of\nthe infamous Pombal, was published (having been reserved _in petto_) on\nJanuary 20, three days after he had expired.\n\nThe Orsini are noted for their longevity, and it has shown itself in\nthe cardinals as well as in others of the family. Giacinto Bob\u00f2 Orsini\nwas made a cardinal at twenty by Honorius II., and after living through\nsixty-five years of his dignity and eleven pontificates, was himself\nelected pope (being only a deacon) at the age of eighty-five, and reigned\nfor nearly seven years as Celestine III. (1191-1198). Another one, Pietro\nOrsini, after having three times refused the honor, was at length induced\nto accept it, wore the purple for fifty-four years and finally became\nBenedict XIII. (1724-1730).\n\nGregory XI., who brought back the See from Avignon, was made a cardinal\nby his uncle at seventeen; Paul II. by his, at twenty-one; Pius III.\nby his, at twenty; and Leo X. by his, at fourteen--but not allowed to\nwear his robes until three years later. The last example, we believe, of\na very young cardinal is that of a Spanish Bourbon, Don Luis, created\nat twenty-three by Pius VII., in 1810; he was permitted afterwards to\nrenounce it. Although exceptions may occasionally be made in future, a\nmature age has for many pontificates come to be considered absolutely\nnecessary before being raised to the dignity. Artaud de Montor has an\nanecdote in his _Life of Pius VIII._, about the inexorable Leo XII. in\nconnection with the young Abb\u00e9 Duc de Rohan-Chabot, a Montmorency, and\nas such, one would think, quite the equal of an Orsini, Colonna, or\nthe son of any other great Italian family. Whenever Leo was pressed on\nthe subject, and he was urged by many and very influential persons, to\nconfer the dignity upon the princely, learned, and virtuous priest, he\nhad a new Latin verse ready in praise of him, but always ending with\nhis inevitable youth, as this one for example: Sunt mores, doctrina,\ngenus--sed deficit \u00e6tas (_Artaud_, i. p. 205). He was thirty-seven at the\ntime.\n\nWe conclude with a few words the bibliography of the cardinalate. Not\nto mention the almost innumerable separate lives of cardinals which\nhave been published in all countries, particularly Italy, the greatest\nwork or series of works connected with the subject is undoubtedly that\nof the Spanish Dominican, Chacon, who wrote a _History of the Popes and\nCardinals_ up to Clement VIII. His work was corrected and continued\nby the Italian Jesuit, Oldoini, up to Clement IX. inclusive, all with\nbeautiful portraits and arms. At the request of Benedict XIV., a learned\nprelate named Guarnacci continued this work to the pontificate of\nClement XII. inclusive. It was sumptuously brought out in 1751. There\nis a continuation of this, containing the whole of Benedict XIV.\u2019s\npontificate, and later matter from MSS. left by Guarnacci and from other\nsources, that appeared in 1787, and is actually (if our memory does not\ndeceive us) rarer at Rome than the other parts of the work, although\npublished so much later. We have understood that there are still some\nprecious MS. collections on the same subject in the possession of the\nnoble Del Cinque family, which are probably waiting for a M\u00e6cenas to\naccept the dedication before being published. These are the full titles\nof the works referred to:\n\nAlphonsi Ciacconii, _Vit\u00e6 et res gest\u00e6 Pontificum romanorum, et S. R.\nE. Cardinalium ab initio nascentis Ecclesi\u00e6, usque ad Clementem IX.,\nab Augustino Oldoino recognit\u00e6_. Rom\u00e6: 1677 (3d ed., 4 vols. fol.)\nMario Guarnacci, _Vit\u00e6 et res gest\u00e6 Pontificum romanorum, et S. R. E.\nCardinalium a Clemente IX. usque ad Clementem XII._ Rom\u00e6: 1751 (2 vols.\nfol.)\n\n_Vit\u00e6 et res gest\u00e6 summorum Pontificum et S. R. E. Cardinalium ad\nCiacconii exemplum continuat\u00e6, quibus accedit appendix, qu\u00e6 vitas\nCardinalium perfecit, a Guarnaccio non absolutas._ Auctoribus Equite Joh.\nPaulo de Cinque, et Advocato Raphaele Fabrinio. Rom\u00e6: 1787.\n\nThe best work in Italian is Lorenzo Cardella\u2019s _Memorie storiche de\u2019\nCardinali della S. Romana Chiesa, in comminciando da quelli di S. Gelasio\nI., sino ai creati da Benedetto XIV._ Roma: 1792.\n\nA recent and probably very excellent work in French is Etienne Fisquet\u2019s\n_Histoire g\u00e9n\u00e9rale des Papes et des Cardinaux_. Chez Etienne Repos, 70\nrue Bonaparte, Paris (5 vols. 8vo).\n\nThe principal work on the cardinalate in general is by Plati: _De\nCardinalis dignitate et officio_, of which a sixth edition was published\nat Rome in 1836; and an exquisite monograph, small in size (one little\nvolume) but full of research, is Cardinal Nicholas Antonelli\u2019s _De\nTitulis quos S. Evaristus Romanis Presbyteris distribuit, dissertatio_.\nPublished at Rome in 1725; rather rare.\n\nThe _Calcografia Camerale_, near the Fountain of Trevi at Rome, used to\nhave for sale at a reasonable price the engraved portraits of all the\ncardinals from the pontificate of Paul V. (1605-21) to that of Pius IX.;\nbut being an establishment belonging to the papal government, the present\noccupiers of the city in their zeal for the fine arts may have turned it\nupside down.\n\nA collection of portraits in oil colors of all the British Cardinals was\nbegun at the English College in Rome in 1864.\n\n\nHORN HEAD.\n\n(COUNTY OF DONEGAL.)\n\n    Sister of Earth, her sister eldest-born,\n    Huge world of waters, how unlike are ye!\n    Thy thoughts are not as her thoughts: unto thee\n    Her pastoral fancies are as things to scorn:\n    Thy heart is still with that old hoary morn\n    When on the formless deep, the procreant sea,\n    God moved alone: of that Infinity,\n    Thy portion then, thou art not wholly shorn.\n    Scant love hast thou for dells where every leaf\n    Boasts its own life, and every brook its song;\n    Thy massive floods down stream from reef to reef\n    With one wide pressure; thy worn cliffs along\n    The one insatiate Hunger moans and raves,\n    Hollowing its sunless crypts and sanguine caves.\n\n    AUBREY DE VERE.\n\n\nSTRAY LEAVES FROM A PASSING LIFE.\n\nCONCLUDED.\n\nCHAPTER IV.\n\nWE ALL MEET TO PART.\n\nA second time I recovered. I was still in the same place, and the same\nhand was supporting me. Some brandy was forced down my throat, and it\nrevived me.\n\n\u201cNow listen,\u201d he said. \u201cI have good news for you. Why, the man is\ngoing off again! Here, Roger, take another nip. So. Now you are much\nnearer being a dead man than your father, only you will not let me tell\nyou quietly. Hush, now! Not a word, or I am dumb. You lie still and\nlisten, and let me talk. Everything is well here. That is about as much\ninformation as you can bear at present. There is nothing the matter with\nanybody, except with yourself. Miss Herbert, in consequence of a lucky\nlittle telegram received this afternoon commissioned me to await your\narrival here, and tell you just that much. Everything else was to be\nexplained at the Grange, where your father and some friends are waiting\nto receive with open arms the returned prodigal. This much I may add:\nYour father has been ill, very ill. But he has recovered. Now, another\nnip and I think we may be moving. That was Sir Roger at whose feet you\nfell outside. The noble old veteran never moved a foot, or your brains\nmight have been dashed out. He is a truer friend than I, Roger, for he\nknew you at once, pricked up his ears, bent down his head towards you,\nand gave a low whinny that told me the whole story in a second. I\u2019ll be\nbound you have had nothing to eat all day. That is bad. Why, you are\nthe sick man after all. Do you feel equal to moving now? Well, come:\neasy--in--hold this skin up to your chin--so! And now we are off. Mr.\nRoger Herbert, I wish you a very merry Christmas!\u201d\n\nI sat silent with that delicious sense of relief after a great danger\naverted while the shadow of that danger has not quite passed away.\nKenneth did all the talking. The snowfall had ceased and the moon was up.\nHow well I remembered every house we passed, as the cheery lights flashed\nout of the windows, and the sounds of merry voices, whose owners I could\nalmost name, broke on my ear. Leighstone seemed fairy-land, which I had\nreached after long wanderings through stony deserts and over barren seas.\nThere is the old Priory, rising dark and solemn out of the white snow,\nwith the white gravestones standing mute at the head of white graves all\naround it. The moonlight falls full on the family tomb. I shuddered as\nI looked upon it, not yet quite assured that it is not open for another\noccupant. I can see the frozen figure of Sir Roger stiff and stark with\nhis winter grave-clothes upon him as we roll by the Priory gates. And\nthere, at last, are the gleaming windows of the Grange, and the faint\nfeeling again steals over my heart.\n\nThe heavy snowfall deadens the sound of the wheels, and we are within the\nhouse before our arrival is known. Miss Herbert is called out quietly by\na servant, a stranger to me. Dear hearts! What these women are! She does\nnot cry out, she does not speak a word; watching and suffering had made\nher so wise. She clings to me, and weeps silently on my breast a long\nwhile, smothering even the sobs that threaten to break her heart. When\nat last we look around for Kenneth he is nowhere to be seen, but there\nis a strange hush over all the house, and the voices that I heard on my\nentrance are silent.\n\n\u201cPapa is alone in the study--waiting,\u201d whispered Nellie. \u201cI received your\ntelegram. O Roger! that little scrap of paper was like a message from\nheaven. He is growing anxious, but expects you. Hush! follow me.\u201d\n\nShe stole along on tiptoe, and I after her. The door of the study was\najar. She opened it softly, and, standing in the shadow, I peeped in. He\nwas seated in an easy-chair and had dozed off. His face wore that gentle,\nlanguid air of one who has been very ill and is slowly recovering; of\none who has looked death in the face and to whom life is still new and\nuncertain. Ten years seemed to have been added to his life. Whether owing\nto his illness or to some other cause, I could not tell, but it seemed\nto me that a certain look of firmness and resolve, that was at times too\nprominent, had quite disappeared. Instead of his own brown locks he wore\na wig. He had suffered very much. The door creaked as Nellie entered,\ndisturbing but not awakening him. He sighed, his lips moved, and I\nthought he muttered my name.\n\n\u201cPapa!\u201d said Nellie, touching his arm lightly. How matronly the Fairy\nlooked! \u201cPapa!\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! Yes, my dear. Is that you, my child? Is--is nobody with you?\u201d What a\nwistful look in the eyes at that last question!\n\n\u201cDo you feel any better, papa? It is time to take your medicine.\u201d How\nslow the demure minx is about it.\n\n\u201cIs it? I don\u2019t think I will take any now. I want nothing just now, my\ndarling.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat--no medicine! Nothing at all, papa?\u201d\n\n\u201cNothing at all. Is not that train arrived yet?\u201d he asked, looking around\nanxiously at the clock.\n\n\u201cI--I think so, papa. And it brought such a lot of visitors.\u201d\n\n\u201cAny--any--for us, Nellie?\u201d He coughed, and his voice trembled into a\nfeeble old treble as he asked this question.\n\n\u201cOnly one, papa. May he come in?\u201d\n\nHe knew all in an instant. He rose and tottered towards the door, where\nhe would have fallen had I not caught him in my arms. Only one word\nescaped him.\n\n\u201cRoger!\u201d\n\nAfter some time Kenneth stole in, and seeing how matters stood insisted\non bearing me off to dinner. He took me into the parlor, which was\nblazing with lights and decorated with holly and red berries in good old\nChristmas fashion. The first object to meet my eyes was a great \u201cWelcome\nHome\u201d which flashed in letters of fragrant blossoms cunningly woven in\nstrange device about my portrait. Mrs. Goodal came forward and kissed me\nwhile the tears fell from her eyes. \u201cYou don\u2019t deserve it, you wicked\nboy, but I can\u2019t help it,\u201d she said. Mr. Goodal had seized both my hands\nin his. A beautiful girl stood a little apart watching all with wondering\neyes, and in them too there were tears, such is the force of example with\nwomen. I had never seen her before, but I needed no ghost to tell me that\nshe was Kenneth\u2019s sister.\n\n\u201cThis is Elfie, Roger,\u201d said Fairy. \u201cShe wants to welcome you too. Elfie\nis my sister. I stole her. Oh! a sister is so much nicer than a great\nrough brother who runs away!\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd this,\u201d said Mrs. Goodal, leading forward a tall, spare gentleman,\nwith that closely shaven face and quiet lip and eye that, with or\nwithout the conventional garb, stamp the Catholic priest all the world\nover--\u201cthis is our dear friend and father, the friend and father of all\nof us, Father Fenton.\u201d\n\nThere was a general pause at this introduction. I suppose that my\ncountenance must have shown some perplexity, for a general laugh followed\nthe pause. Mrs. Goodal came to the rescue.\n\n\u201cYou expected to meet Mr. Knowles, I suppose, sir, or the Abbot Jones.\nKenneth has told me about the Abbot Jones. But you must know that the\npresent Archdeacon Knowles is far too high and mighty a dignitary for\nLeighstone, and the abbot is laid up with the gout. Your father has not\nbeen to the Priory for a very long time--for so long a time that he\nthinks he would no longer be known there. The Herbert pew is very vacant;\nand Nellie has had no one to take her. Still mystified? You see what\ncomes of silly boys running away from home and never writing. They miss\nall the news.\u201d\n\nShe led me to the other end of the parlor, and I stood before a lofty\nivory crucifix. The light of tapers flashed upon the thin pale face;\nblood gleamed from the nailed hands and feet, from the pierced side,\nfrom the bowed and thorn-crowned head. It was the figure of \u201cthe Man of\nSorrows,\u201d and the artist had thrown into the silent agony of the face an\nexpression of infinite pity. My own heart bowed in silence.\n\n\u201cWe are all Papists, Roger. What are you?\u201d whispered Mrs. Goodal at my\nelbow.\n\n\u201cNothing,\u201d I murmured. \u201cNothing.\u201d\n\n\u201cNothing yet,\u201d she whispered again. \u201cBut do you think that we have all\nbeen praying to _Him_ all this time for _nothing_?\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd my father?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe most inveterate Papist of us all!\u201d\n\nThere was a tone of triumph in her voice that was almost amusing.\n\n\u201cHow did it all come about?\u201d\n\n\u201cShe did it,\u201d broke in Kenneth, pointing to his mother. \u201cDid I not tell\nyou that she was the sweetest woman to have her own way? If I were a\nheretic, I would sooner face the Grand Inquisitor himself than this most\namiable of women. Set a thief to catch a thief, Roger. But come; heretics\ndon\u2019t abstain as do wicked creatures like these ladies. I forget, they\ndo, though; and my heretic, fair ladies, has had nothing to eat all day;\nso I insist upon not another word until the fatted calf is disposed of by\nour returned prodigal.\u201d\n\nThat was a merry Christmas eve. We all nestled together, and bit by\nbit the whole story came out. On the receipt of my first letter, after\na fruitless inquiry for me, Kenneth and his mother posted down to\nLeighstone. Their arrival was most opportune; for my father, on hearing\nof my departure, suffered a relapse that laid him quite prostrate. Poor\nNellie was in despair, brave heart though she was. By unremitting care\nhe was partially restored, and then followed the long dreary months and\nthe weary waiting, day after day, for some scrap of news from me. In\nsuch cases, the worst is generally dreaded save when the worst actually\ntakes place, and my father drooped gradually. He was prevailed upon to\npay a visit to the Goodals, and there it was that his heart, pierced with\naffliction, and bowed down with sorrow, opened to the holier and higher\nconsolation that religion only affords. Father Fenton, who was invalided\nfrom a severe course of missionary labors, was staying with them, and the\nintercourse thus begun developed into what we have seen. On his return to\nLeighstone, the silent house opened up the bitter poignancy of his grief.\nEvery familiar object on which his eye rested only served to remind him\nof one who had passed away; whom he accused himself of having driven\naway by an order that he could only now regard with abhorrence. A cold,\nsomething slight, seized him, and soon appeared alarming symptoms. In\nview of the recent changes, Nellie knew not to whom of our relatives to\napply in this emergency, and could only write to Mrs. Goodal, who flew\nto her assistance. The arrival of my letter brought down Kenneth, \u201clike\na madman,\u201d his mother said. The letter arrived just at the crisis of the\nfever in which my father lay; the good news was imparted to him in one of\nhis lucid intervals, and the crisis took a favorable turn. The Christmas\nholy-days brought Elfie from her convent; and finally all came together,\nawaiting my expected return. How that letter had been kissed, petted,\nwept over, laughed over, spelt out inch by inch! I wonder that a fragment\nof it remained; but even had it been worn to dust by reverent fingers,\nit would not have mattered: the women knew every word of it by heart. It\nformed the staple topic of conversation whenever they met. There never\nyet was such a letter written, and the idea that the writer of it should\nonly receive ten dollars--how much money was ten dollars?--a week was\nproof positive that the American people did not appreciate true genius\nwhen it found its way among them. Mr. Culpepper, indeed! Who cared what\nhe would think? The idea of a person of the name of Culpepper having to\ndo with men of genius! They wondered how I could consent to write for\nsuch a person at all. And Mrs. Jinks! Good gracious! that dreadful Mrs.\nJinks and her \u201clittery gents\u201d; Mrs. Jinks and the beefsteak; Mrs. Jinks\nand the pork chops; Mrs. Jinks and her \u201cmock turtle\u201d soup; Mrs. Jinks and\n\u201cher Jane,\u201d etc. etc. Poor old Roger! Poor, dear boy! How miserable it\nmade them all, and yet how absurdly ridiculous it all was. It made them\nlaugh and cry in the same breath.\n\nWhat a hero I had become! What was all my fancied triumph to this? What\nis all the success one can win in this world to the genuine love and the\nfoolish adoration of the two or three hearts that made up our little\nworld before we knew that great wide open beyond the boundary of our own\nquiet garden? And all this fuss and affection was poured out over me, who\nhad run away from it, and thought of it so little while I was away. It\nwas, speaking reverently, like the precious ointment in the alabaster\nvase, broken and poured out over me, in the fond waste of love. Why,\nindeed, was this waste for me? This ointment was precious, and might have\nbeen sold for many pence and given to the poor--the poor of this great\nworld, who were hungering and thirsting after just such love as this,\nthat we who have it accept so placidly, and let it run and diffuse itself\nover us, and take no care, for is not the source from which it comes\ninexhaustible, as the widow\u2019s cruse of oil? But so it is, and so it will\ncontinue to be while human nature remains truly human nature. The good\nshepherd, leaving the ninety-nine sheep, will go after the one which was\nlost, and finding him, bear him on his own travel-weary and travel-worn\nshoulders in triumph home. The father will kill the fatted calf for the\nprodigal who has lived riotously and wasted his inheritance, but the\nfaint cry of whose repentant anguish is heard from afar off. The mother\u2019s\nheart will go out after the scapegrace son who is tramping the world\nalone, turned out of doors for misbehavior; and all the joy she feels\nin the good ones near her is as nothing compared with the thought that\n_he_ at last has come back, sad and sorrowful and forlorn, to the home\nhe left long ago, in the brightness of the morning, with so gay a step\nand so light a heart. It is unjust, frightfully unjust, that it should\nbe so. Did not the good son so feel it, and was his protest not right?\nDid not the laborers in the vineyard so find it when those who came\nat the eleventh hour, and had borne naught of the heat and the burden\nof the day, received the same reward as they? And who shall say that\nthe laborers were not right and the lord of the vineyard unjust? What\ntrades-union could ever take into consideration such reasoning as this,\nforbidden by the very book of arithmetic? Wait awhile, friends. Some day\nwhen we, who now feel so keenly the injustice of it all, are fathers and\nmothers, let us put the question then to ourselves: \u201cWhy this waste of\nprecious ointment on one who values it not? I will seal up the alabaster\njar, let the ointment harden into stone, and no sweetness shall flow out\nof it.\u201d Do so--if you can, and the world will be a very barren place.\nIt would dry and shrivel up under arid justice. Did not the Master tell\nus so? Did he not say that he came to call not the just but sinners to\nrepentance? And is it not this very injustice that makes earth likest\nheaven, where we are told there shall be more joy over one sinner doing\npenance than over the ninety-nine just who need not penance?\n\nAnd here am I preaching, instead of spending my Christmas merrily like a\nman. But the thought of all this affection wasted on so callous a wretch\nas I had proved myself to be, was too tempting to let pass. Suddenly the\nchimes rang out from the old steeples, and we were silent, listening with\nsoftened hearts and moistening eyes.\n\n\u201cThere is another surprise for you yet,\u201d said Mrs. Goodal, mysteriously.\n\u201cCome, I want to show you your room.\u201d\n\nShe took me upstairs, paused a moment at the door to whisper: \u201cIt has\nanother Occupant now, Kenneth. Go in and visit him,\u201d opened the door and\npushed me gently in.\n\nThe room was lighted only by a little lamp, through which a low flame\nburned with a rosy glow. The flame flickered and shone on an altar with\na small tabernacle, before which Father Fenton was kneeling in silent\nprayer. My old room had been converted into a chapel, and there they had\nknelt and prayed for me. Presently the chapel was lighted up, and my\nfather was assisted to a chair that had been prepared for him. Mr. Goodal\ntook up his position near a harmonium, in one corner, while I retired\ninto the other. One or two of the household came in and took their places\nquietly. Father Fenton rose up, and, assisted by Kenneth, vested himself,\nand the midnight Mass began. Soon the harmonium was heard, and then in\ntones that trembled at first, but in a moment cleared and grew firm and\nstrong and glorious, Elfie, laughing Elfie, who now seemed transformed\ninto one of those angels who brought the glad tidings long, long ago,\nburst forth into the _Adeste Fideles_.\n\n    \u201cNatum videte\n    Regem angelorum.\u201d\n\nAll present joined in the refrain, Nellie\u2019s sweet voice mingling with the\nstrong, manly tones of Kenneth. I saw his face light up as a soldier\u2019s of\nold might at a battle cry. How happy are the earnest!\n\nBefore the Mass was ended, Father Fenton turned and spoke a few words:\n\n\u201cOne of old said, \u2018When two or three are gathered together in my name,\nthere am I in the midst of them.\u2019 I need not point out to you the solemn\nmanner in which a few moments since he who made that promise fulfilled\nit, for he has spoken to your own hearts. But I would call your attention\nto the wonderful and special manner in which Christ has visited and\nblessed the two or three gathered together here this night in his name.\nWe are here like the shepherds of old, come to adore the Christ born in\na manger. One by one have we dropped in, taken in hand and led gently,\nas though by the Lord himself. This great grace has not been given us\nfor nothing. It has been the answer to fervent, earnest, and unceasing\nprayer, which, though it may sometimes seem to knock at the gates of\nheaven a long while in vain, has been heard all the while, and at length,\nentering in, falls back on our hearts laden with gifts and with graces.\nThe two or three have increased now by one, now by another, and under\nProvidence are destined to increase until the Master calls them away\nunto himself. Happy is the one who comes himself to Christ, thrice happy\nhe who helps to lead another! He it is who answers that bitter cry of\nanguish that rang out from the darkness and the suffering of Calvary--\u2018I\nthirst.\u2019 He holds up the chalice to the lips of the dying Saviour filled\nwith the virtues of a saved soul. It was for souls Christ thirsted, and\nhe gives him to drink. But when a conversion is wrought, when a stray\nsheep is brought into the fold, the work is only begun. All the debt is\nnot paid. It is well to be filled with gratitude for the wonderful favor\nof God in bringing us out of the land of Egypt and the house of bondage\ninto the land flowing with milk and honey, where the good shepherd\nattends his sheep, where we draw water from the living fountain. We have\nleft behind us the fleshpots of Egypt. But there is ingratitude to be\nremembered and wiped out. Many weary years have we wandered in desert\nplaces seeking rest and finding none. Yet the voice of the shepherd\nwas calling to us all the while. Peace, peace, peace! Peace to men of\ngood-will has been ringing out of the heavens over the mountains of this\nworld these long centuries, yet how many ears are deaf to the angels\u2019\nsong! The star in the East has arisen, has moved in the heavens, and\nstood over his cradle--the star of light and of knowledge--yet how many\neyes have been blind to its lustre and its meaning. It is because it\npoints to a lowly place. In Bethlehem of Jud\u00e6a Christ is born, not in the\ncity of the king; in a stable, not in the palace of Herod; in a manger\nhe is laid, wrapped in swaddling-clothes, not in the purple of royalty.\nHe is lowly; we would be great. He is meek; we would be proud. He is a\nlittle innocent child; we would be wise among the children of men. The\nbirth-place of Christianity is humility. We must begin there, low down,\nfor he himself has said it: \u2018Suffer little children to come unto me\u2019;\n\u2018Unless ye become as one of these little ones, ye shall not enter the\nkingdom of heaven.\u2019\n\n\u201cMy brethren, my dear children, little flock whom Christ has visited\nreally and truly in his body and blood, soul and divinity, this is\nour lesson--to be humble as he is. In this was his church founded on\nthis memorable night, at this solemn hour, while day and night are\nin conflict. The day dawned on the new birth and the night was left\nfor ever behind. There is no longer excuse for being children of the\ndarkness, for the light of the world has dawned at length. It dawned\nin lowliness, poverty, suffering--these are its surroundings. Christ\u2019s\nfirst worshippers on this earth were the one who bore him and her spouse,\nJoseph the carpenter. His second, the poor shepherds, whose watchful\nears heard first the song of peace. The kings from afar off followed who\nwere looking and praying for light from heaven, and it came. The angels\nguided the ignorant shepherds to where he lay; but of those to whom more\nwas given, more was expected. The gifts of intellect, learning, and the\nspirit of inquiry are gifts of God, not of man, or of Satan. They are to\nbe used for God, not sharpened against him. Happy are those to whom he\nhas given them, who, like the Kings of the East, though far away from\nthe lowly place where he lies, hearken to the voice of God calling to\nthem over the wildernesses that intervene, and make answer to the divine\ncall. Search in the right spirit--search in the spirit of humility, and\nhonesty, and truth. To them will the star of Truth appear to guide them\naright over many dangers and difficulties, and disasters mayhap, to\nthe stable where Christ is sleeping, to lay at his feet the gifts and\nofferings he gave them--the gold of faith, the frankincense of hope, the\nmyrrh of charity.\u201d\n\nI suppose it is intended that sermons should apply to all who hear them.\nThat being the case, how could Father Fenton\u2019s words apply to me? There\nwas not a single direct allusion to me throughout. What he said might\napply equally to all, and yet surely of all there I was the most guilty.\nI alone did not adore; and why? After all, was humility the birthplace\nof Christianity? But was not I humble as the rest of them? \u201cYou! who are\nso fond of mounting those stilts,\u201d whispered Roger Herbert senior--\u201cyou,\nwho spend your days and nights dreaming of the _divinus afflatus_--you,\nwho would give half your life, were it yours to give, to convert those\nlittle stilts into a genuine monument, and for what purpose? That men\nmight point and look up at the dizzy height and say, Behold Roger\nHerbert, the mighty, his feet on earth, his head among the gods of\nheaven!\u201d And was it true that Truth had been speaking all this time, all\nthese centuries, to so little purpose? Why was it? how could it be if the\nvoice was divine? \u201cThe devil, the world, and the flesh, Roger; forget not\nthe devil, the world, and the flesh. Were there only truth, we should all\nbe of one mind; but unfortunately, truth is confronted with falsehood.\u201d\nWhat is truth--what is truth? Ay, the old agony of the world. One alone\nof all that world dared to tell us that he was the Truth, he was the Way,\nhe was the Life. \u201cLet us find him, Roger. Father Fenton says he is in the\nmidst of those gathered together in his name.\u201d\n\nChristmas passed, and a New Year dawned on us--a happy new year to all\nexcept myself. I was the only unhappy being at the Grange. Elfie went\nback to her convent school. My father\u2019s health was on the high road to\nrestoration, and the growing attachment between Kenneth and Nellie was\nevident even to my purblind vision. Strange to say, I did not like to\ntalk to Kenneth as openly as at first about my doubts and difficulties,\nand Father Fenton\u2019s company, when alone, I avoided, although he was the\nmost amiable of men, gifted with wit softened by piety, and a learning\nthat not even his modesty could conceal. He must have observed how\nstudiously I shunned him, for, after seeking ineffectually once or twice\nto draw me into serious conversation, he refrained, and only spoke on\nordinary topics. I began to grow restless again.\n\nThe season had advanced into an early spring; the green was already\nabroad and the birds beginning to come, when one afternoon, that seemed\nto have strayed out of summer, so soft and balmy was the air, Nellie and\nI sat together out on the lawn as in the old days. My father was taking a\nnap within; the Goodals had driven to Gnaresbridge to meet a friend whom\nthey expected to pass by the up-town train to London. Nellie was working\nat something, and I was musing in silence. Suddenly she said:\n\n\u201cRoger, do you remember the promises you made me the night before you ran\naway?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, Fairy.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, sir?\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, madam?\u201d\n\n\u201cIs that all?\u201d\n\n\u201cIs what all?\u201d\n\n\u201cDo you only remember your promise?\u201d\n\n\u201cIs not that a great deal?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo; unless you have kept it.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh--h--h!\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat do you mean by ah--h?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat did I promise?\u201d\n\n\u201cThat from that day forward you would not only try not to do harm, but to\ndo some good for others as well as for yourself.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is a very big promise.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo bigger now than it was then.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut it means more now than it did then.\u201d\n\n\u201cNot a bit, not a bit, not a bit!\u201d\n\n\u201cThings look to me so differently now. One grows so much older in a year\nsometimes.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen you have not kept your promise? O Roger!\u201d\n\n\u201cGood, though you can spell it in four letters, is a very large word,\nNellie, and means so much; and others mean so many. Not to do much harm\nis one thing; but to do good, not once in a while, but to be constant\nin it--that is another thing, Nellie, and that was what I promised. That\npromise I cannot say I have kept.\u201d\n\nNellie bent her head lower over her work, and I believe I saw some tears\nfall, but she said nothing. I went on:\n\n\u201cNow Kenneth does good.\u201d\n\nThere was no mistake about the tears this time, although the head bent\na little lower still. \u201cKenneth does a great deal of good. He goes about\namong the poor as regularly as a physician, and whatever his medicine may\nbe it seems to do them more good than any they can get at the druggist\u2019s.\nHe has sent I don\u2019t know how many youngsters off to school, where he pays\nfor them. In fact, he seems to me to be always scheming and thinking\nabout others and never dreaming of himself, whereas I am always scheming\nand thinking about myself and never seem to see anybody else in the\nworld. Why, what are you doing with that stuff in your hands, Nellie? You\nare sewing it anyhow.\u201d\n\n\u201cO Roger! You--you--\u201d she could say no more, but hid her face, that was\nrosy and pure as the dawn, on my breast.\n\n\u201cA very pretty picture,\u201d said a deep voice behind us, and Nellie started\naway from me, while all the blood rushed back to her heart. She was so\nwhite that Kenneth--for it was he who had stolen up unobserved at the\nmoment--was frightened, and said:\n\n\u201cPardon me, Miss Herbert, if I have startled you. I have only this\ninstant come, and quite forgot that the grass silenced the sound of my\nfootsteps. Take this chair--shall I bring a glass of water?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, thank you; I am better now. It was only a moment. We did not hear\nyou.\u201d\n\n\u201cMay I join you, then? Or was it a _t\u00eate-\u00e0-t\u00eate_?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo; sit down, Kenneth. The fact is, we were just discussing the\ncharacter of an awful scamp.\u201d\n\n\u201cWho arrived just too late to hear any evil of himself--is that it?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, he was here all the time,\u201d said Nellie, laughing, and herself again.\n\n\u201cBut what brings you from Gnaresbridge so soon, Kenneth, and all alone?\nWhere have you left Mr. and Mrs. Goodal?\u201d\n\n\u201cMrs. Goodal had some shopping to do at Gnaresbridge, and Mr. Goodal,\nas in duty bound, waited patiently the results of that interesting\noperation. His patience makes me blush for mine. The shopping is such a\nvery extensive operation that I preferred a walk back, and even now you\nsee I have arrived before them.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow very ungallant, Mr. Goodal! I am surprised at you. I thought Roger\nwas the only gentleman who didn\u2019t like shopping.\u201d\n\n\u201cOn the contrary, I am quite fond of it. I used to do all my own shopping\nin New York. I got Mrs. Jinks to buy me some things once, but as she,\nwoman-like, measured everybody by Mr. Jinks, the articles, though an\nexcellent fit for him, were an abomination on me.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd what did you do with them?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat could I do with them? Gave them to Mrs. Jinks, of course, and for\nthe future did my own shopping. Indeed, I am getting quite lazy here.\nThere is nothing for a fellow to do--is there, Kenneth?\u201d\n\n\u201cI was thinking of that as I came along.\u201d\n\n\u201cThinking of what?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe great puzzle--What to do. I put it in every imaginable form. The\nquestion was this: \u2018Kenneth Goodal, what are you going to do with\nyourself?\u2019 and the whole eight miles passed before I could arrive at\nanything like a satisfactory conclusion. I finally resolved to leave the\nquestion to arbitration, and get others to decide for me. I have already\napplied to one.\u201d\n\nHe paused, and his gaze was fixed on the ground. His face was flushed,\nand his broad brow knitted as though trying to find the right clue to\na puzzling query. I glanced at Nellie, and observed that her face had\nwhitened again, while her eyes were also bent upon the ground, and her\nbreath came and went painfully.\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d he went on without raising his head--Nellie was seated between\nus--\u201cI determined to leave my case to arbitration. Your father was one of\nthe arbiters; you were to be another, Roger; and a certain young lady was\nto be a third. I had intended to attack the members of this high court\nof arbitration singly; but as I find two of them here together, I see no\nreason why I should not receive my verdict at once.. ..\u201d\n\nA further report of this most important and interesting case it is not\nfor me to give, inasmuch as I was not present. I saw at once that the\ndecision rested now with the third arbiter, and that my opinion was\npractically valueless in the matter. How the case proceeded I cannot\ntell. Thinking that there was little for me to do, and how deeply engaged\nwere the other two parties, I took advantage of the noiseless grass to\nslink away without attracting the attention of either, heartily ashamed\nof myself for being so persistent an intruder where it was clear I was\nnot particularly wanted. It was a lovely evening, and I took a long quiet\nramble all by myself. How much longer the court was in session I do not\nknow, I only know that it was broken up before I entered, just in time\nfor dinner. I noticed that in my father\u2019s eyes there was a softer look\nthan usual; that Mrs. Goodal took Nellie\u2019s place at table, opposite to\nmy father; that Mr. Goodal and myself were neighbors, while opposite to\nus sat the adjourned court of arbitration, looking--looking as young\npersons look only once in their lives. There was a rather awkward silence\non my entrance, which I found so unpleasant that I rattled away all\nthrough dinner. I must have been excellent company for once in my life;\nfor though at this moment I do not recollect a single sentence that I\nuttered, there was so much laughter throughout the dinner, laughter that\ngrew and grew until we found ourselves all talking at length, all joining\nin, all joking, all so merry that we were astounded to find how the\nevening had passed. My father looked quite young again.\n\nAs I was retiring to my own room for the night, Nellie caught me, put\nboth her arms around my neck, and looked up into my eyes a long time\nwithout saying a word, until at last she seemed to find in them something\nshe was looking for, and when, kissing her, I asked if I should blow\nthe candle out again, as I did on a former memorable confession, she\nflew away, her face lost amid blushes, laughter, and tears. I was\ncongratulating myself on seeing an end to a long day, when a guilty\ntap came to my door, and Kenneth stole in with the air of a burglar\nwho purposed making for the first valuable he could lay hands on, and\nvanishing with it through the window. He closed the door as cautiously\nas though a policeman, whom he feared to disturb, was napping without,\nand sat down without saying a word. I looked at the ceiling; he sat and\nstared at me. In his turn, he began examining my eyes. I could bear it\nno longer, but burst out laughing, and held out my hand, which he almost\ncrushed in his.\n\n\u201cYou are as true a knight as ever was old Sir Roger,\u201d said Kenneth,\nwringing my hand till I cried out with pain. \u201cI went on talking for I\ndon\u2019t know how long, and saying I forget now what, but, on looking up, I\nfound there was only one listener. Well, we did without you.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo now you know what to do with yourself. Happy man! What a pity Elfie\nis only fourteen! She might tell me what to do with Roger Herbert.\u201d\n\nI saw the two who, after my father, I loved the best in all the world\nmade one. I waited until they returned from the bridal trip, by which\ntime my father was fully restored to health. We spent that season in\nLondon, and when it was over returned to Leighstone. The brown hand of\nautumn was touching the woods, when one morning I began packing my trunk\nagain, and that same evening ate my last dinner at the Grange. It was not\na pleasant dinner. The ladies were in tears at times, and the gentlemen\nwere inclined to be taciturn. I did my best to rally the party as on a\nformer occasion, but the effort was not very successful.\n\n\u201cOh! you are all Sybarites here,\u201d was my closing rejoinder to all\nqueries, tears, and complaints; \u201cand I should never do anything among\nyou. Not so fortunate as Kenneth, who has found some one to tell him\nwhat to do with himself, I am driven back on my own resources, and must\nwork out that interesting problem for myself. I was advancing in that\ndirection when called away. I go back to resume my labors in the old way.\nYou cannot realize the delicious feeling that comes over one at times\nwho is struggling all alone, and groping in the darkness towards a great\nlight that he sees afar off and hopes to reach. I leave my father with a\nbetter son than I, and my sister with something that even sisters prefer\nto brothers. I am only restless here. There is work to be done beyond\nthere. I may be making a mistake: if so, I shall come back and let you\nknow.\u201d\n\n\nAN OLD IRISH TOUR.\n\nIt was the long vacation in Dublin, 186-. Summer reigned supreme over\nthe Irish capital. The long, bright afternoons, still and drowsy, seemed\nnever to have an end. The soft azure overhead, so different from our deep\nblue skies, was whole days without a cloud--rare phenomenon in Irish\nweather. It was hot. The leaves drooped and the insects hummed, till I,\na solitary American student, holding my chambers in college for a couple\nof weeks after all others had left--waiting for some friends to make up a\nparty for the seaside--began to think of the fierce blaze of the Broadway\npavement in July. The four o\u2019clock promenade on Grafton and Westmoreland\nstreets seemed almost abandoned by the tall, fresh-colored Dublin belles;\nand even the military band on Wednesday afternoons in Merrion square drew\nfew listeners. It was dull as well as hot.\n\nTaking down volume after volume at a venture from the shelves of the\nhouse library, I happened on Arthur Young\u2019s _Tour in Ireland in 1776-9_.\nI opened it at the account of his visit to the Dargle. I had not yet\nvisited the glen, and was interested by his description. \u201cWhat!\u201d said I,\nlaying the book open on my knee, \u201cshall I stay here broiling for another\nweek? I will run down to Bray and Wicklow for a day or two, and have a\nlook at the lions.\u201d From my windows every morning I used to look out at\nthe distant hills, till they seemed to me like old acquaintances. The\nnext day I started. The trip is still a pleasant one in my memory; but\nit is not of my own short Wicklow tour I am going to write, although in\nthese fast days it also might now be called ancient.\n\nThis was my first acquaintance with Arthur Young\u2019s celebrated _Tour_.\nNot long ago I met with his work again. It was a copy of the second\nedition, \u201cprinted by H. Goldney for T. Cadell in the Strand, MDCCLXXX.\u201d\nI recognized my old friend at a glance. The quaint engraving of\nthe \u201cWaterfall at Powerscourt, I. Taylor, _sculp._,\u201d renewed old\nassociations, and led to a second and more attentive reading.\n\nAlthough Young\u2019s works are still the standard authority on the\nagricultural condition of England and Ireland, one hundred years ago,\nrecognized in those countries, he is not so well known on this side of\nthe water, and a few facts concerning his life and writings may be given.\nHe was born in 1741. He was the son of the Rev. Arthur Young, rector\nof Bradford, and sometime chaplain to Speaker Onslow. His father was\nnoted for some fierce blasts against \u201cPopery,\u201d but our author, in many\npassages of a just and humane spirit, shows that he did not imbibe the\niconoclast zeal of Arthur Young the elder. His works are voluminous,\ncomprised in twenty volumes. They relate almost exclusively to the state\nof agriculture in the two kingdoms and in France. His _Travels_ in the\nEast, West, and North of England, in Wales, in Ireland, and in France,\nand his _Political Economy_, are the chief titles. But Arthur Young was\nmore than a practical farmer, honorable as that vocation is. He was\na man of liberal education and cultivated taste, and his works often\nrise above the dull level of the fields and are pervaded with a true\nVirgilian flavor. They have been warmly praised by such widely different\nauthorities as McCulloch, De Tocqueville, and the _Times_ Commissioner\nin 1869; and Miss Edgeworth, herself now grown a little antiquated, says\nof his _Tour in Ireland_: \u201cIt was the first faithful portrait of its\ninhabitants.\u201d Arthur Young died in 1820. An extended but not complete\nlist of his works will be found in Allibone.\n\nYoung had a high but well-grounded idea of the place that agriculture\nholds in the economy of the state.\n\n    \u201cThe details,\u201d he says, \u201cof common management are dry and\n    unentertaining; nor is it easy to render them interesting by\n    ornaments of style. The tillage with which the peasant prepares\n    the ground; the manner with which he fertilizes it; the\n    quantities of the seed of the several species of grain which\n    he commits to it; and the products that repay his industry,\n    necessarily in the recital run into chains of repetition which\n    tire the ear, and fatigue the imagination. Great, however, is\n    the structure raised on this foundation; it may be dry, but it\n    is important, for these are the circumstances upon which depend\n    the wealth, prosperity, and power of nations. The minuti\u00e6 of\n    the farmer\u2019s management, low and seemingly inconsiderable as\n    he is, are so many links of a chain which connect him with\n    the state. Kings ought not to forget that the splendor of\n    majesty is derived from the sweat of industrious and too often\n    oppressed peasants. The rapacious conqueror who destroys and\n    the great statesman who protects humanity, are equally indebted\n    for their power to the care with which the farmer cultivates\n    his fields. The monarch of these realms must know, when he is\n    sitting on his throne at Westminster, surrounded by nothing but\n    state and magnificence, that the poorest, the most oppressed,\n    the most unhappy peasant, in the remotest corner of Ireland,\n    contributes his share to the support of the gaiety that\n    enlivens and the splendor that adorns the scene.\u201d\n\nOur author, it will be seen, lived close enough to the great Dr. Johnson\nto catch something of the swelling and sonorous rotundity of style which\nhe impressed upon the Georgian era. And, in truth, there is a weighty and\nnervous energy about the prose writing of that age which contrasts, not\nto our advantage, with the extenuated and sharply accented style of our\nday.\n\nThe careful investigation of his special study led Young into minute\ninquiries and much experimental journalizing, into which it would not\nbe possible or even desirable for us to follow him. We shall therefore\ncontent ourselves with a notice of his more general observations in the\ncharacter of tourist.\n\nArthur Young started from Holyhead for Dunleary--as Kingstown was then\ncalled, before the \u201cFirst Gentleman in Europe\u201d set his august foot upon\nits quay--on the 19th of June, 1776. What a tremendous turn of the wheel\nhas the world taken since then! These colonies had just plunged slowly\nbut resolutely into that great struggle for independence, the centennial\ncommemoration of which we shall celebrate next year. Progress in Ireland,\nthough not so radical, has been such as would have been derided as\na day-dream by the generation then living. In the arts and sciences\nthe advance has been as amazing as in politics. As we read of Young\u2019s\ntedious passage of twenty-two hours on board the small sailing packet of\nthose days, we take in at a glance the difference of times which has\nsubstituted for those \u201cDutch clippers\u201d the magnificent steamships which\nnow make the passage between those ports with undeviating regularity in\nfour hours.\n\nYoung\u2019s tour was made under the auspices of the English Board of\nAgriculture. It was his intention to make a complete survey of the\nstate of the art in the island. He complains, however, of the want of\nencouragement his project met with in England; the Earl of Shelburne,\n\u201cEdmund Burke, Esq.,\u201d and a few others being the only persons of eminence\nwho took the trouble to interest themselves in the undertaking. \u201cIndeed,\u201d\nsays our author, commenting on this indifference, \u201cthere are too many\npossessors of great estates in Ireland who wish to know nothing more of\nit than the collection of their rents\u201d--a remark which has not lost its\nforce in our own day.\n\nThe reception he met with in Dublin, however, when the purpose of his\nvisit became known, seems to have compensated him for the coldness he\nhad experienced on the other side of the Channel. The most distinguished\npersons of the Irish capital--a title then to some extent real--warmly\nencouraged him in his project, treated him with true Irish hospitality\nin their own houses, and provided him with letters of introduction to\nfacilitate his inquiries. Thus equipped, Young felt sure of bringing his\nundertaking to a successful issue; nor did he disappoint his subscribers.\nBut before going further, let us first note his impressions of the\ncapital.\n\nDublin exceeded his anticipations. Its public buildings, which still\nrecall its old glories to the Irish-American tourist, \u201care,\u201d he\nsays, \u201cmagnificent; very many of the streets regularly laid out, and\nexceedingly well built.\u201d The Parliament House, within the walls of which\nGrattan and Flood were then exerting their growing powers, attracted his\nadmiration, although some of its architectural features seemed to him\nopen to criticism. Young found the subject of Union an unpopular one\nwherever broached, and, although an advocate of the scheme, does not\nappear to have imagined that in a little over twenty years the doors of\nthe Parliament House would be closed upon the representatives of Ireland.\nThe cold and business-like precincts of the Bank of Ireland, as the\nbuilding is now called, make stronger by contrast the recollection of the\nfervid eloquence once heard within its walls. Young attended the debates\nfrequently; but, whether it was from English phlegm, or perhaps it would\nbe more just to him to say, from the recollection of the transcendent\npowers of Burke and Chatham, he does not appear to have been carried away\nby the _perfervidum ingenium_ of the Irish orators. After naming Mr.\nDaly, Mr. Flood (who had dropped out of the scene), Mr. Grattan, Serjeant\nBurgh, and others, he says: \u201cI heard many eloquent speeches, but I cannot\nsay they struck me like the exertion of the abilities of Irishmen in the\nEnglish House of Commons.\u201d\n\nYoung\u2019s opinion of the musical talent of Dublin would be apt also\nto excite the ire of its present opera-goers. No city in the United\nKingdom flatters itself more upon its correct musical taste and warm\nencouragement of talent. But this is what our unabashed tourist says: \u201cAn\nill-judged and unsuccessful attempt was made to establish the Italian\nopera, which existed but with scarce any life for this one winter; of\ncourse, they could rise no higher than a comic one. \u2018La Buona Figliuola,\u2019\n\u2018La Frascatana,\u2019 and \u2018Il Geloso in Cimento\u2019 were repeatedly performed,\nor rather murdered, except the part of Sestini. The house was generally\nempty and miserably cold.\u201d This is no doubt an honest description of\nthe fortunes of the opera in his day, but those who have witnessed the\nsuccessive appearances of Grisi, of Piccolomini (in light _r\u00f4les_), of\nTitjens, and Patti will not accuse a modern Dublin audience of want of\nsympathy.\n\nDublin, always a gay city socially, was enlivened in Young\u2019s day by\nthe presence of a larger resident aristocracy than ever since. The\ngreater power and state of the \u201cCastle\u201d before the Union, the splendid\nhospitality of the old Irish nobility, the beauty of its fair dames--the\ntoast of more than one court, the gallant, open-handed manners of the\nnative landed gentry, made it then one of the most brilliant capitals in\nEurope. Young supposes the common computation of its inhabitants, two\nhundred thousand, to be exaggerated; he thinks one hundred and forty\nor one hundred and fifty thousand would be nearer the mark. Although\nDublin, to-day, nearly if not quite doubles the latter figures, and in\ncountless ways shares in the general progress of the age, she misses\nthe independent spirit her native parliament gave her, and which filled\nthe smaller city of the last century with an exuberant life that is now\nabsent in her streets and along her quays.\n\nYoung thus sums up his observations on the city: \u201cFrom everything\nI saw, I was struck with all those appearances of wealth which the\ncapital of a thriving community may be supposed to exhibit. Happy if\nI find through the country in diffused prosperity the right source\nof this splendor!\u201d Whatever the gaiety of the capital, the impartial\nobserver, as Young himself soon found, could not fail to note through\nthe country, notwithstanding some gleams of better times, the fixed\nwretchedness of a whole people, bowed down under the yoke of those penal\nlaws the unspeakable horror of which no later English legislation,\nhowever beneficent, can ever redeem. But the native buoyancy of the\nIrish character was well exemplified in the comparatively cheerful and\nquiescent spirit with which they bore their hard lot in the breathing\nspace, if one may so term it, between 1750 and 1770. For some years\nprevious to Young\u2019s _Tour_, the general state of the country, contrasted\nwith what it had been seventy years previously, was what might almost be\ncalled prosperous. The population was increasing, and was not suffering\nfrom want of food; and the penal laws in some instances were allowed to\nfall into abeyance. The country was comparatively free from agrarian\ndisturbances. Whiteboys and \u201cHearts of Steel\u201d had sprung up in some\ncounties after Thurot\u2019s landing in 1759, but were quickly suppressed;\ntheir indiscriminate attacks upon private property in some instances\ncausing the Catholic country people to rise against them. The trade of\nIreland was still oppressed by the English prohibitory laws, but some\nmitigation had been granted; and in 1778 the threatening attitude of\nthe Irish Volunteers at last wrung a tardy measure of justice from the\nEnglish government. The value of land in many counties had more than\ndoubled in the previous thirty years. Much of this rise in value was\nundoubtedly due to natural causes--improved and extended cultivation,\nand the increase of population--but it is plain from Young\u2019s testimony,\nwithout going to Catholic contemporary evidence, that the rents were\nraised artificially in numberless cases by the grinding agents of the\nabsentee landlords. The Irish woollen trade had been annihilated by\nEnglish monopoly. The manufacture of linen, which was at its height in\n1770, had greatly declined in consequence of the American difficulties,\nbut was beginning to revive a little. The effect of the war had also\nbeen to check the emigration, which was chiefly confined, however, to\nthe North. Young gave particular attention to this subject, noting\ndown the emigration in each parish he visited; and the result of his\nobservations is summed up in these words: \u201cThe spirit of emigrating in\nIreland appeared to be confined to two circumstances, the Presbyterian\nreligion and the linen manufacture. I heard of very few emigrants except\namong the manufacturers of that persuasion.\u201d This remark has of course\nbeen completely nullified in later years by the famine and continued\nmisgovernment, which at last, breaking down the Irishman\u2019s strong love\nof home, have sent him forth as a wanderer, but, in the designs of\nProvidence, to carry with him his faith and build up a greater Catholic\nChurch in America--happy also in the country and the laws which enable\nhim by his own exertions to gain a position equal to any other citizen\u2019s,\nand to throw off that poverty and servility which too often weighed down\nhis spirit at home.\n\nOn the whole, then, it may be said that the time of Arthur Young\u2019s\nvisit was a favorable one, if any time might be accounted favorable in\nthat long night of oppression which was still brooding over Ireland, and\nwhich had yet to reach its darkest hour before the first faint streaks\nof dawn gladdened the eyes of its weary watchers. The country was just\ntouching on that short period of flickering prosperity, culminating in\nthe assertion of its constitutional independence in 1782, but destined to\nset in fire and blood in the tragedy of \u201998 and the ill-starred Union of\n1800.\n\nLeaving Dublin, Young first made a short tour through Meath and\nWestmeath, returning by way of Carlow, Wexford, and Wicklow to the\ncapital before entering on his more extensive circuit of the island. In\nthis first excursion he at once exhibits the plan of his journal, noting\ndown with minuteness the character of the soil, the course of the crops,\nthe nature of the tenancy, and the condition of the people. Potatoes were\nthe great article of culture, alternating with barley, oats, and wheat.\nMuch of the best land was given to grazing. The average rent of the\ncounty of Westmeath, exclusive of waste, was nine shillings--including\nit, seven shillings; but in this, as in the other counties near Dublin,\nthe best land let from twenty shillings to as high as thirty-five\nshillings sterling an acre. The rise in the price of labor for ten years\nwas from fivepence and sevenpence to eightpence and tenpence per day,\nbut the laborers worked harder and better. Women got eightpence a day in\nharvest. Lands in general were leased to Protestants for thirty-one years\nor three lives, but Catholics were in almost all cases at the mercy of\ntheir landlords. The law allowing Catholics to hold leases for lives was\nnot yet passed. June 28th, he notes:\n\n    \u201cTook the road to Summerhill, the seat of the Right Hon. H.\n    L. Rowley; the country cheerful and rich; and if the Irish\n    cabins continue like what I have seen, I shall not hesitate\n    to pronounce their inhabitants as well off as most English\n    cottagers. They are built of mud walls, eighteen inches or two\n    feet thick, and well thatched, which are far warmer than the\n    thin clay walls in England. Here are few cottars without a\n    cow, and some of them two, a bellyful invariably of potatoes,\n    and generally turf for fuel from a bog. It is true they have\n    not always chimneys to their cabins, the door serving for\n    that and window too; if their eyes are not affected with\n    the smoke it may be an advantage in warmth. Every cottage\n    swarms with poultry, and most of them have pigs. Land lets at\n    twenty shillings an acre, which is the average rent of the\n    whole county of Meath to the occupier, but if the tenures of\n    middlemen are included it is not above fourteen shillings.\n    This intermediate tenant between landlord and occupier is\n    very common here. The farmers are very much improved in their\n    circumstances since about the year 1752.\u201d\n\nAlthough we may partially agree in Arthur Young\u2019s opinion that some\namelioration was visible in the material surroundings of the Irish\npeasant during the quarter of a century preceding his visit, no equal\nconcession can be made regarding his political rights. These remained\nabsolutely nil. The comparative tranquillity that prevailed was the\nlethargy not the security of freedom. In a slightly altered sense might\nhave been uttered of the whole nation what Hussey Burgh said of a year or\ntwo later, referring more particularly to the Volunteers: \u201cTalk not to\nme,\u201d he exclaimed, \u201cof peace; it is not peace, but smothered war!\u201d\n\nContrasted with this description of the cabins of the peasantry, the\nfollowing account of an Irish nobleman\u2019s country mansion in the same\ncounty one hundred years ago will be found interesting. Headfort is still\none of the principal residences in that part of the country:\n\n    \u201cJuly 1st: Reached Lord Bective\u2019s in the evening through a\n    very fine country, particularly that part of it from which\n    is a prospect of his extensive woods. No person could with\n    more readiness give me every sort of information than his\n    lordship. The improvements at Headfort must be astonishing to\n    those who knew the place seventeen years ago, for then there\n    were neither building, walling, nor plantations; at present\n    almost everything is created necessary to form a considerable\n    residence. The house and offices are new-built. It is a large\n    plain stone edifice. The body of the house 145 feet long,\n    and the wings each 180. The hall is 31\u00bd by 24, and 17 high.\n    The saloon of the same dimensions; on the left of which is a\n    dining-room 48 by 24, and 24 high. From the thickness of the\n    walls, I suppose it is the custom to build very substantially\n    here. The grounds fall agreeably in front of the house to a\n    winding narrow vale, which is filled with wood, where also\n    is a river which Lord Bective intends to enlarge. And on the\n    other side, the lawn spreads over a large extent, and is\n    everywhere bounded by large plantations. To the right the town\n    of Kells, picturesquely situated among groups of trees, with\n    a fine waving country and distant mountains; to the left, a\n    rich tract of cultivation. Besides these numerous plantations,\n    considerable mansion, and an incredible quantity of walling,\n    his lordship has walled in 26 acres for a garden and nursery,\n    and built six or seven large pineries, each 90 feet long. He\n    has built a farm-yard 280 feet square, surrounded with offices\n    of various kinds.\u201d\n\nJuly 4th, there is an entry of interest, as showing the position of\nCatholic tenants at that day even under the best landlords. Young was\nthen a guest of Lord Longford\u2019s at Packenham Hall. We give the passage in\nhis own words, as it is a favorable index to our author\u2019s character:\n\n    \u201cLord Longford carried me to Mr. Marly, an improver in the\n    neighborhood, who has done great things, and without the\n    benefit of such leases as Protestants in Ireland commonly have.\n    He rents 1,000 acres; at first, it was twentypence an acre;\n    in the next term, five shillings, or two hundred and fifty\n    pounds a year; and he now pays eight hundred and fifty pounds\n    a year for it. Almost the whole farm is mountain land; the\n    spontaneous growth, heath, etc.; he has improved 500 acres.\u2026\n    It was with regret I heard the rent of a man who had been\n    so spirited an improver should be raised so exceedingly. He\n    merited for his life the returns of his industry. But the cruel\n    laws against the Roman Catholics of this country remain the\n    marks of illiberal barbarism. Why should not the industrious\n    man have a spur to his industry, whatever be his religion; and\n    what industry is to be expected from them in a country where\n    leases for lives are general among Protestants, if secluded\n    from terms common to every one else? What mischiefs could flow\n    from letting them have leases for life? None; but much good in\n    animating their industry. It is impossible that the prosperity\n    of a nation should have its natural progress where four-fifths\n    of the people are cut off from those advantages which are\n    heaped upon the domineering aristocracy of the small remainder.\u201d\n\nYoung made many inquiries here concerning the state of the \u201clower\u201d\nclasses, and found that in some respects they were in good circumstances,\nin others indifferent. They had, generally speaking, plenty of potatoes,\nenough flax for all their linen, most of them a cow and some two, and\nspun wool enough for their clothes; all, a pig, and quantities of\npoultry. Fuel, and fish from the neighboring lakes, were also plenty.\n\n    \u201cReverse the medal,\u201d says Young: \u201cthey are ill clothed, make\n    a wretched appearance, and, what is worse, are much oppressed\n    by many, who make them pay too dear for keeping a cow, horse,\n    etc. They have a practice also of keeping accounts with the\n    laborers, contriving by that means to let the poor wretches\n    have very little cash for their year\u2019s work. This is a great\n    oppression; farmers and gentlemen keeping accounts with the\n    poor is a cruel abuse. So many days\u2019 work for a cabin--so many\n    for a potato garden--so many for keeping a horse--and so many\n    for a cow, are clear accounts which a poor man can understand;\n    but farther it ought never to go; and when he has worked out\n    this, the rest ought punctually to be paid him every Saturday\n    night. They are much worse treated than the poor in England,\n    are talked to in more opprobrious terms, and otherwise very\n    much oppressed.\u201d\n\nPassing through the county Wexford, Young diverged a little from his\nroute to visit the baronies of Forth and Bargy, the peculiar character of\nthe people of which had always attracted the attention of tourists. They\nare supposed to have been completely peopled by Strongbow\u2019s followers,\nand have retained a language peculiar to themselves. They had the\nreputation even then of being better farmers than in any other part of\nIreland.\n\n\u201cJuly 12th: Sallied from my inn, which would have made a very passable\ncastle of enchantment in the eyes of Don Quixote in search of adventures\nin these noted baronies, of which I had heard so much.\u201d He did not find,\nhowever, as much difference in the husbandry as he expected, but the\npeople appeared more comfortable. Potatoes were not the common food all\nthe year through, as in other parts of Ireland. Barley bread and pork,\nherrings and oatmeal, were much used. The cabins were generally much\nbetter than any he had yet seen; larger, with two and three rooms in good\norder and repair, all with windows and chimneys, and little sties for\ntheir pigs and cattle. They were as well built, he says, as was common in\nEngland. The girls and women were handsomer, having better features and\ncomplexions than he saw elsewhere in Ireland. Young was a poor authority\non this point, however; for he says, in the most ungallant manner, that\n\u201cthe women among the lower classes in general in Ireland are as ugly\nas the women of fashion are handsome.\u201d A remark equally composed of\ntruth and falsehood: a handsome Irish lass being as easily found in any\ntownland as in any Dublin drawing-room. Young was a good man and a good\nfarmer, but we fear in this case his cockney prejudices deceived him.\n\nUnderstanding that there was a part of the barony of Shellmaleive\ninhabited by Quakers, rich men and good farmers, our tourist turned aside\nto visit them. A farmer he talked to said of them: \u201cThe Quakers be very\ncunning, and the d----l a bad acre of land will they hire.\u201d This excited\nYoung\u2019s admiration for these sagacious Friends. He found them uncommonly\nindustrious, and a very quiet race. They lived very comfortably and\nhappily, and many of them were worth several hundred pounds.\n\nReturning through Wicklow to Dublin, he passed through the Glen of the\nDowns and the Dargle, as we have already noticed. His description of the\nscenery of these noted spots is picturesquely written, but too long to\nquote. July 18th, he set out for the North. Leaving Drogheda, he made a\nvisit to the Lord Chief Baron Foster at Cullen. This \u201cgreat improver,\u201d\n\u201ca title,\u201d he says, \u201cmore deserving estimation than that of a great\ngeneral or great minister,\u201d had reclaimed in twenty years a barren tract\nof land, containing over 5,000 acres, which, when Young visited it, was\ncovered with corn. In conversation with him, the Chief Baron said that\nin his circuits through the North of Ireland he was on all occasions\nattentive to procuring information relative to the linen manufacture.\nIt had been his general observation that where linen manufacture spread\ntillage was very bad. Thirty years before, the export of linen and yarn\nhad been about \u00a3500,000 a year; it was then \u00a31,200,000 to \u00a31,500,000. In\n1857, the export of linens, according to McCulloch, was \u00a34,400,000. In\n1868, there were 94 flax-spinning factories in Ireland, driving 905,525\nspindles, employing about 50,000 (_vide_ I. N. Murphy\u2019s valuable work,\n_Ireland--Industrial, Political, and Social_, London, 1870).\n\nIn conversation upon the \u201cPopery\u201d laws, Young expressed his surprise at\ntheir severity. The Chief Baron said they were severe in the letter,\nbut were never executed. It was rarely or never, he said (he knew no\ninstance), that a Protestant _discoverer_ got a lease by proving the\nlands let under two-thirds of their real value to a Catholic. But it\nis plain the Chief Baron took a more roseate view of the situation\nthan it deserved; the explanation of the last-mentioned circumstance\nbeing, as we have seen in the case of Mr. Marly, already mentioned, that\nthe landlord generally took good care to keep the rent well up to the\ntwo-thirds value. The penalties for carrying arms or reading Mass were\nsevere, the Chief Baron admitted, but the first was never executed for\nmerely poaching (rare clemency!), and as to the other, \u201cMass-houses were\nto be seen everywhere.\u201d The Chief Baron did justice, Young says, to the\nmerits of the Roman Catholics, by observing that they were in general\na very sober, honest, and industrious people. Arthur Young winds up\nthis conversation with Chief Baron Foster, however, with the following\nspirited remark, which shows that he had not listened in vain to the\ngreat orator of that age: \u201cThis account,\u201d he says, \u201cof the laws against\nthem brought to mind an admirable expression of Mr. Burke\u2019s in the\nEnglish House of Commons: _connivance is the relaxation of slavery, not\nthe definition of liberty_.\u201d\n\nThe Chief Baron was of opinion that the kingdom had improved more in the\nlast twenty years than in a century before. The great spirit began, he\nsaid, in 1749 and 1750. With regard to the emigrations, which then made\nso much noise in the North of Ireland, he believed they were principally\nidle people, who, far from being missed, benefited the country by their\nabsence. They were generally dissenters, he said; very few Churchmen or\nCatholics.\n\nComing to Armagh, Young found the \u201cOak Boys\u201d and \u201cSteel Boys\u201d active in\nthat part of the country. He attributes their rise to the increase of\nrents and the oppression of the tithe-proctors. The manufacture of linen\nwas at its height; the price greater, and the quantity also. A weaver\nearned from one shilling to one shilling and fourpence a day, a farming\nlaborer eightpence. The women earned about threepence a day spinning, and\ndrank tea for breakfast.\n\nJuly 27th, in the evening, he reached Belfast. He gives an animated\ndescription of the town and its trade and manufactures. \u201cThe streets,\u201d he\nsays, \u201care broad and straight, and the inhabitants, amounting to about\nfifteen thousand, make it appear lively and busy.\u201d The population of\nBelfast is now probably one hundred and twenty-five thousand. It was\nthen already noted for its brisk foreign trade with the Baltic, Spain,\nFrance, and the West Indies. The trade with North America was greatly\naffected by the contumacious behavior of the \u201crebels.\u201d\n\nThence our tourist wended his way through the North, through the\nmountains and moors of Donegal, and down the wild west coast of Sligo\nand Galway. Here he describes a wake, and the \u201chowling\u201d of the \u201ckeeners\u201d\n\u201cin a most horrid manner,\u201d in a tone of alarm and amazement which would\nput to shame the stage \u201cEnglish officer\u201d of some of our modern Irish\nmelodramas.\n\nContinuing his route through Clare and Limerick, he arrived at Cork\nSeptember 21st. This is his description of the city one hundred years ago:\n\n    \u201cGot to Corke in the evening, and waited on the Dean, who\n    received me with the most flattering attention. Corke is\n    one of the most populous places I have ever been in; it was\n    market-day, and I could scarce drive through the streets, they\n    were so amazingly thronged; the number is very great at all\n    times. I should suppose it must resemble a Dutch town, for\n    there are many canals in the streets, with quays before the\n    houses. Average of ships that entered in nineteen years, eight\n    hundred and seventy-two per annum. The number of people in\n    Corke, upon an average of three calculations, as mustered by\n    the clergy, by the hearth-money, and by the number of houses,\n    sixty-seven thousand souls, if taken before the first of\n    September; after that, twenty thousand increased.\u201d\n\nThese last figures appear large. The population of Cork in 1866 was\nestimated at eighty thousand. Ships entered and cleared in 1859, 4,410.\n\nFrom Cork, Young set out for Killarney. The lakes were already a great\npoint of attraction for the tourist. Young was in raptures with the\nmingled beauty and sublimity of the scenery. His description of Glena,\nMucross Abbey, Mangerton, and the other wild and beautiful features\nof lakes and mountain, might almost be taken for an account of their\nappearance within the last ten years. Of Innisfallen, he says:\n\n    \u201cSeptember 29th: Returning, took boat again towards Ross Isle,\n    and as Mucruss retires from us nothing can be more beautiful\n    than the spots of lawn in the terrace opening in the wood;\n    above it, the green hills with clumps, and the whole finishing\n    in the noble group of wood above the abbey, which here appears\n    a deep shade, and so fine a finishing one, that not a tree\n    should be touched.\u2026 Open Innisfallen, which at this distance\n    is composed of various shades, within a broken outline,\n    entirely different from the other islands. No pencil could\n    mix a happier assemblage. Land near a miserable room where\n    travellers dine.--Of the isle of Innisfallen it is paying no\n    great compliment to say it is the most beautiful in the king\u2019s\n    dominions, and perhaps in Europe. It contains twenty acres of\n    land, and has every variety that the range of beauty, unmixed\n    with the sublime, can give. The general feature is that of\n    wood; the surface undulates into swelling hills, and sinks\n    into little vales; the slopes are in every direction, the\n    declivities die gently away, forming those slight inequalities\n    which are the greatest beauty of dressed grounds. The little\n    vallies let in views of the surrounding lake between the hills,\n    while the swells break the regular outline of the water, and\n    give to the whole an agreeable confusion. Trees of large size\n    and commanding figure form in some places natural arches; the\n    ivy mixing with the branches, and hanging across in festoons\n    of foliage, while on the one side the lake glitters among the\n    trees, and on the other a thick gloom dwells in the recesses\n    of the wood. These are the great features of Innisfallen.\n    Every circumstance of the wood, the rocks, and lawn are\n    characteristic, and have a beauty in the assemblage from mere\n    disposition.\u201d\n\nWith the exception of the \u201cmiserable room where travellers dine,\u201d\nwhich happily has disappeared, this is a good picture of the scene when\nthe writer visited this lovely spot. Young elsewhere complains of the\n\u201cwant of accommodations and extravagant expense of strangers\u201d visiting\nKillarney. The \u201cVictoria,\u201d the \u201cLake,\u201d and other good hotels now leave\nno room for reproach on the first score; though the \u201cstranger\u201d may still\nfeelingly recognize the point of Young\u2019s last remark.\n\nMoore had not yet written:\n\n    \u201cSweet Innisfallen long shall dwell\n    In memory\u2019s dream, that sunny smile\n    Which o\u2019er thee on that evening fell,\n    When first I saw thy fairy isle.\u201d\n\nFrom Killarney Young took the road through Limerick and Tipperary. Here\nhe stopped at Sir William Osborne\u2019s, near Clonmel. Always on the alert to\nnote improvements, he here describes a scene of industry and labor which\nin an extended form still attracts the attention of the tourist:\n\n    \u201cThis gentleman\u201d (Sir W. Osborne), he says, \u201chas made a\n    mountain improvement which demands particular attention, being\n    upon a principle very different from common ones. Twelve years\n    ago he met a hearty-looking fellow of forty, followed by a wife\n    and six children in rags, who begged. Sir William questioned\n    him upon the scandal of a man in full health and vigor\n    supporting himself in such a manner. The man said he could get\n    no work. \u2018Come along with me, I will show you a spot of land\n    upon which I will build a cabin for you, and if you like you\n    shall fix there.\u2019 The fellow followed Sir William, who was as\n    good as his word; he built him a cabin, gave him five acres of\n    a heathy mountain, lent him four pounds to stock with, and gave\n    him, when he had prepared his ground, as much lime as he would\n    come for. The fellow flourished; he went on gradually; repaid\n    the four pounds, and presently became a happy little cottar: he\n    has at present twelve acres under cultivation, and a stock in\n    trade worth at least eighty pounds. The success which attended\n    this man in two or three years brought others, who applied for\n    land. And Sir William gave them as they applied. The mountain\n    was under lease to a tenant, who valued it so little that, upon\n    being reproached with not cultivating or doing something with\n    it, he assured Sir William that it was utterly impracticable\n    to do anything with it, and offered it to him without any\n    deduction of rent. Upon this mountain he fixed them, giving\n    them terms as they came determinable with the lease of the\n    farm. In this manner Sir William has fixed twenty-two families,\n    who are all upon the improving hand, the meanest growing\n    richer, and find themselves so well off that no consideration\n    will induce them to work for others, not even in harvest. Their\n    industry has no bounds; nor is the day long enough for the\n    revolution of their incessant labor.\n\n    \u201cToo much cannot be said in praise of this undertaking. It\n    shows that a reflecting, penetrating landlord can scarcely move\n    without the power of creating opportunities to do himself and\n    his country service. It shows that the villany of the greatest\n    miscreants is all situation and circumstance; _employ_, don\u2019t\n    _hang_ them. Let it not be in the slavery of the cottar system,\n    in which industry never meets its reward, but, by giving\n    property, teach the value of it; by giving them the fruits of\n    their labor, teach them to be laborious. All this Sir William\n    Osborne has done, and done it with effect, and there probably\n    is not an honester set of families in the county than those\n    which he has formed from the refuse of the Whiteboys.\u201d\n\nException will be justly taken here to the use of the word \u201cmiscreants,\u201d\nof which nothing appears to show that these poor people were deserving\nthe name, and which is probably used generally; but let it be remembered\nthat these sentiments were written one hundred years ago, and by an\nEnglishman who, from his position, might well be supposed to share all\nthe prejudices of his race, and the philanthropy and love of justice\nwhich belonged to Young\u2019s character will conspicuously appear. What a\nrevelation of the state of the country and the condition of its native\npeople, when a stranger utters these appalling words (to our ears) to its\nlandlords: \u201c_Employ_, don\u2019t _hang_ them.\u201d\n\nIn September, 1869, the _Times_ Commissioner in Ireland thus wrote of the\ngreat-grandchildren of these men:\n\n    \u201cI took care to visit a tract in this neighborhood which I\n    expected to find especially interesting. Arthur Young tells us\n    how, in his day, Sir William Osborne of Newtownanner encouraged\n    a colony of cottiers to settle along the slopes that lead to\n    the Commeraghs, and how they had reclaimed this barren wild\n    with extraordinary energy and success. The great-grandchildren\n    of these very men now spread in villages along the range for\n    miles, and, though reduced in numbers since 1846, they still\n    form a considerable population. The continual labor of these\n    sons of the soil has carried cultivation high up the mountains,\n    has fenced thousands of acres and made them fruitful, has\n    rescued to the uses of man what had been the unprofitable\n    domain of nature. These people do not pay a high rent. They\n    are for the most part under good landlords; but I was sorry to\n    find this remarkable and most honorable creation of industry\n    was generally unprotected by a certain tenure. The tenants\n    with hardly a single exception declared they would be happy to\n    obtain leases, which, as they said truly, would \u2018secure them\n    their own, and stir them up to renewed efforts.\u2019\u201d\n\nA few years before the visit of the _Times_ Commissioner, the writer\nof this article passed along the same road on his way to Clonmel and\nFethard, and still vividly remembers the remarkable appearance of the\nlong range of these little holdings climbing high up the steep side of\nthe mountains; the clustering cabins; the narrow paths winding up to\nthem; and, higher than all, the gray masses of mist sweeping along the\nrocks and purple heath.\n\nFrom Clonmel Arthur Young proceeded to Waterford, and thence, on the 19th\nof October, the wind being fair, took passage in the sailing packet, the\n_Countess of Tyrone_, for Milford Haven, Wales--thus bringing to an end\nhis first and most interesting tour in Ireland.\n\nIn a subsequent volume, he relates his experiences two years later. But\nthis second volume, though valuable, is not of the same interesting\ncharacter as the first. It consists chiefly of chapters under general\nheadings, such as Manufactures, Commerce, Population, etc. It is\nspeculative and theorizing, and has not the freshness of particular\nincidents and observations. Nevertheless, it will always be consulted by\nthe student who desires to learn from an impartial English observer the\ncondition of Ireland one hundred years ago.\n\nThe following are the laws of discovery, as they were called, given by\nYoung in his chapter on \u201cReligion,\u201d vol. ii., as in force in his day.\nThey are given in his own words:\n\n    \u201c1. The whole body of Roman Catholics are absolutely disarmed.\n\n    \u201c2. They are incapacitated from purchasing land.\n\n    \u201c3. The entails of their estate are broken.\n\n    \u201c4. If one child abjures that religion, he inherits the whole\n    estate, though he is the youngest.\n\n    \u201c5. If the son abjures the religion, the father has no power\n    over his estate, but becomes a pensioner upon it in favor of\n    such son.\n\n    \u201c6. No Catholic can take a lease for more than 31 years.\n\n    \u201c7. If the rent of any Catholic is less than two-thirds of the\n    full improved value, whoever discovers takes the benefit of the\n    lease.\n\n    \u201c8. Priests who celebrate Mass must be transported; and if they\n    return, to be hanged.\n\n    \u201c9. A Catholic having a horse in his possession above the value\n    of five pounds to forfeit the same to the discoverer.\n\n    \u201c10. By a construction of Lord Hardwick\u2019s they are\n    incapacitated from lending money on mortgage.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe preceding catalogue,\u201d says Young, with grave irony, \u201cis very\nimperfect. But,\u201d he continues, \u201cit is an exhibition of oppression fully\nsufficient.\u201d\n\nWith these words may fitly be concluded a notice of Ireland one hundred\nyears ago. Twenty years after Arthur Young wrote them, the short period\nof comparative peace he chronicled ended, and the pitch-cap became the\nemblem of English government in Ireland.\n\n\nBROTHER PHILIP.\n\nCONCLUDED.\n\nIt was reserved for Brother Philip not only to give a fresh impetus to\nthe Institute of the Christian Schools, but also to see it acquire an\nadditional and important title to respect by a new form of self-devotion\non the fields of battle. Never had the Brothers failed to prove their\nloyal love of their country, but the year 1870, so terrible to France,\nbrought out their patriotism in all its active energy.\n\nThere is no need that we should relate how, in the July of that year,\nNapoleon III., who was unprepared for anything, provoked King William,\nwho was prepared for everything, it being our object to give the history\nof self-devotion, not to recall mistakes.\n\nThe best Christians are always the truest patriots. The heart of Brother\nPhilip thrilled at the very name of France, and he so well knew that\nFrance could equally reckon on his Brothers that he did not even consult\nthem before he wrote his letter of the 15th of August to the Minister\nof War, in which he said that they would wish to profit by the time\nof vacation to serve their country in another manner than they had\nbeen wont; at the same time placing at his disposal, to be turned into\nambulances, all the establishments belonging to the Institute, as well\nas all the communal schools directed by the Brothers, who would devote\nthemselves to the care of the sick and wounded. \u201cThe soldiers love our\nBrothers,\u201d wrote the Superior, \u201cand our Brothers love the soldiers, a\nlarge number of whom have been their pupils, and who would feel pleasure\nin being attended to by their former masters.\u2026 The members of my Council,\nthe Brother Visitors, and myself will make it our duty to superintend\nand to encourage our Brothers in this service.\u201d All the houses of the\nChristian Schools, therefore, were speedily put in readiness to receive\nthe wounded. Some of the Brothers were left in charge of the classes.\nWherever they were wanted they were to be found. We find them for the\nfirst time engaged in their new work after the engagements of the 14th,\n16th, and 18th of August, which took place around Metz, where trains\nfilled with wounded were sent by Thionville to the Ardennes and the\nNorth. Supplies of provisions were organized at Beauregard-lez-Thionville\nby the Brother Director of that place, for these poor sufferers, who\nwere in want of everything; all the families of the town with eager\nwillingness contributing their share. Thus eight trains, carrying five\nhundred wounded, successively received the succor so much needed. At\nSt. Denis, the Brothers responded to the municipal vote which had just\nbeen passed for their suppression by their active zeal in the service\nof the _bureau de subsistence_, or provision-office. In many towns the\nmilitary writings were entrusted to them. At Dieppe, being installed in\nthe citadel, they made more than 120,000 cartridges. On the 17th of\nAugust, Brother Philip received, with the most cordial kindness, two\nhundred firemen of Dinan and St. Brieuc, forming part of the companies\nof the C\u00f4tes-du-Nord, who had hastened to the defence of Paris--himself\npresiding at their installation in the mother-house, and bidding them\nfeel quite at home there, as the Brothers were the \u201cservants of the\nservants of their country.\u201d There the good Bretons remained four days,\neach receiving a medal of Our Blessed Lady from the Superior-General when\nthe time came for departure. The Brothers of the _pensionnat_ of S. Marie\nat Quimper, during the early part of August, received more than fifteen\nhundred military in their dormitories, the Brothers of Aix-les-Bains,\nRodez, Moulins, and Ch\u00e2teaubriant also affording hospitable lodging\nto numerous volunteers. \u201cAt one time,\u201d said the Brother Director of\nAvignon, \u201cwe were distributing soup, every morning and evening, to from\nfive hundred to seven hundred engaged volunteers, and also to a thousand\nzouaves who had been housed by the Brothers of the Communal Schools; we\nwere at the same time lodging at the _pensionnat_ three hundred and sixty\nof the _garde mobile_; thus, in all, we had charge of about two thousand\nmen.\u201d\n\nThe officers and soldiers of the eighth company of _mobiles_ at Aubusson\nwere so grateful for the kindness shown them by the Brother Director\nthat they wished to confer on him the rank of honorary quartermaster,\nand decorate him with gold stripes. The Brothers at Boulay, six leagues\nfrom Metz, were the first to observe the superior quality of the enemy\u2019s\narmy and the severity of its discipline. A doctor of the Prussian\narmy said to them on one occasion, \u201cWe shall conquer because we pray\nto God. You in France have no religion; instead of praying, you sing\nthe _Marseillaise_. You have good soldiers, but no leaders capable of\ncommanding: Wissembourg, Forbach, and Gravelotte[136] have proved this.\nYour army is without discipline, while our eight hundred thousand march\nas if they were one man. And then our artillery \u2026 which has hardly yet\nopened fire!\u201d These words were uttered on the 25th of August, by which\ntime the fate of France could be only too plainly foreseen. The Brothers\nof Verdun showed a courage equal to that of the defenders of the place.\nFrom the 24th of August to the 10th of November, they were to be seen on\nthe ramparts succoring the wounded, carrying away the dead, working with\nthe firemen, in the midst of the bombs, to extinguish the conflagrations,\nbesides attending on the wounded in the ambulance of the Bishop\u2019s house.\nThe Brothers at Pourru-Saint-R\u00e9my, by their courageous remonstrances,\nsaved the little town from destruction, and also the lives of two\nFrenchmen whom the Prussians were about to shoot.\n\nThe same works of mercy were being carried on at Sedan amid the horrors\nof that fearful time--when seventy thousand men were prisoners of war,\nand in want of everything; when every public building, and even the\nchurch, was filled with wounded. Some of the Brothers went from door to\ndoor begging linen, mattresses, and straw, while others washed and bound\nup the wounds, aided the surgeons, and acted as secretaries to the poor\nsoldiers desirous of sending news of themselves to their families.\n\nThe Brother Director at Rheims gives the following account of his visit\non the 22d of September to the battle-field around Sedan: \u201cWe began by\nBazeilles,\u201d he writes, \u201cand truly it was a heartrending spectacle. This\nborough of two thousand five hundred inhabitants, which I had recently\nseen so rich and prosperous, is entirely destroyed. The only house left\nstanding is riddled with shot, all the rest being mere heaps of charred\nstones, still smoking from the scarcely extinguished burning. The field\nof battle was still empurpled with blood, and trampled hard like a road,\nwhile in all directions were scattered torn garments, rifled wallets, and\nbroken weapons.\u201d[137]\n\nThe ambulance of Rethel received, in four months, eight hundred men,\nmany Prussians being of the number. Several of the Brothers fell ill\nfrom their excessive exertions, and from typhus, caught in the exercise\nof their charitable employment, the latter proving fatal in the case of\nBrother B\u00e9nonien. One of the Directors dying at Ch\u00e2lons-sur-Marne, the\nPrussians, in token of their respect, allowed the bells, which had been\nsilent since the invasion of the town, to be tolled for his funeral. At\nD\u00eejon the Brothers were repeatedly insulted by a handful of demagogues,\nwho would fain have compelled them to take arms and go to the war while\nthey themselves staid at home; but when, soon afterwards, these same\nBrothers who had been derided as \u201clazy cowards,\u201d were seen bearing in\ntheir arms the wounded men--whom they had on more than one occasion\ngone out to seek with lanterns, amid rain and mud and darkness--gently\nlaying them in clean white beds, and attending to all their wants with\nthe tenderest solicitude, the mockers were silenced, and their derision\nforgotten in the admiration of the grateful people. It was here also\nthat, after the battle of the 30th of October, many Garibaldians who\nwere among the wounded beheld with astonishment the calm devotedness of\nthese \u201cblack-robes,\u201d whom they had always been accustomed to malign.\nNot content with begging their pardon merely, they were exceedingly\ndesirous that Garibaldi should award military decorations to certain of\nthe Brothers, who would have had as strong an objection to receive the\nhonor from such hands as the godless Italian would have had to confer\nit; nor did the cares lavished by these religious on his companions in\narms hinder his execrations of the priests and religious orders in his\nproclamation of January 29, 1871.\n\nIn Belgium as well as in France the good offices of the Brothers found\nample exercise. After the defeat of Gen. de Failly, more than eleven\nhundred exhausted and famishing soldiers, with their uniforms torn to\nshreds after a march of ten leagues through the woods, arrived at a late\nhour of the night, on the 1st of September, at the house of the Brothers\nat Carlsbourg, not knowing what place it was. Great was the joy of the\npoor fugitives at the unexpected sight of that well-known habit and those\nfriendly faces. All were welcomed in, and their lives saved by the timely\nhospitality so freely accorded to their needs. The sick and wounded\nhad already been brought in carts from the scene of the engagement,\nand were receiving every care under the same roof. All through the\nmonth of September this house was a centre of assistance, information,\nand correspondence, as well as of unbounded hospitality. At Namur the\nBrothers converted their house into an ambulance, and, in their work of\nnursing the sick and wounded, had able auxiliaries in many Christian\nladies of high rank.\n\nWhile the red flag was floating over the H\u00f4tel de Ville at Lyons, and\nthose who talked the most loudly about \u201cthe people\u201d troubled themselves\nthe least on their account, the Brothers of this town prepared a hundred\nbeds in their house, and successively had charge of seven hundred\nsoldiers, the Brother Director during all that time having to maintain\na persevering resistance to the revolutionists, who no less than twelve\ntimes attempted to disperse the community. The devotion of the Brothers\nwas characterized by a peculiar courage in the ambulance at Beaune,\nreserved for sufferers from the small-pox, and which none but they\ndared approach. At Ch\u00e2lons-sur-Sa\u00f4ne they had four ambulances, in the\ncharge of which they were aided by some nursing Sisters. Many Germans\nwere among their wounded at Orl\u00e9ans and at Dreux. It was at the latter\nplace that one of the chief medical officers of the Prussians, a very\nhard-hearted man, who had made himself the terror of the ambulance as\nwell as of the town, gave orders that every French soldier, as soon as\nhe began to recover, should be sent a prisoner to Germany; the Brothers,\nhowever, did not rest until they had so far softened him as to save their\nconvalescents from the threatened captivity.\n\nBut we should far exceed the limits of our notice were we to follow with\nanything like completeness the work of the Brothers in the departments\nof France. The places particularized suffice as an indication of what\nwas done in numbers more, in several of which some of the Brothers\nfell victims to their charity. The testimony of the medical men, in\npraise not only of their unwearied devotion, but also of their skill\nin the care of the sick and wounded, was everywhere the same. It seems\nscarcely credible that in several localities--at Villefranche and Niort\namongst others--where they were unostentatiously carrying on these\nself-denying labors, the municipal councils, as if to punish them for\ntheir generosity, withdrew the annual sum which had for years past (in\none case, for sixty-four years) been allowed to their schools for the\nexpenses of administration. It frequently happened that, in opening\nambulances, they did not, for that reason, discontinue their classes,\nthose who taught in the day watching by the sick at night; giving up for\nthe good of others their time, their repose, their comfort--all they had\nto give. The Committees of Succor did much, but it seemed as if without\nthem something would have been wanting to the ambulances. For additional\nparticulars we must refer the reader to the interesting pages of M.\nPoujoulat, from which we have drawn so largely. And now, having in some\nmeasure sketched the work of the Brothers in the provinces during the\nwar, we must not leave it unnoticed in the capital.\n\nTowards the end of November, 1870, Brother Philip, after receiving the\nappeal from the ambulances of the Press, issued no order to the Brothers\nof the communities in Paris, but simply informed them of the request that\nhad been made him, bidding them consider it before God, and adding, \u201cYou\nare free to give your assistance or to withhold it.\u201d The Brothers prayed,\nwent to Communion, and then said to their Superior, \u201cWe are ready.\u201d Even\nthe young novices in the Rue Oudinot wrote to him letters of touchingly\nearnest entreaty to be allowed to serve with their elders. We give the\nfollowing in the words of M. Poujoulat:\n\n    \u201cOn the 29th of November, at six o\u2019clock in the morning, in\n    piercing cold, a hundred and fifty of the Brothers of the\n    Christian Schools were assembled at the extremity of the Quai\n    d\u2019Orsay, near the Champ de Mars. An old man was with them in\n    the same habit as themselves; this was Brother Philip, his\n    eighty years not appearing to him any reason for staying at\n    home. They were awaiting the order to march. Gen. Trochu,\n    acting less in accordance with his own judgment than with the\n    imperious despatches sent from Tours and with the wishes of the\n    Parisians, proposed to pierce through the enemy\u2019s lines and\n    join the army of the Loire. The attack having been retarded\n    by an overflow of the Marne, and the necessity of throwing\n    additional bridges across the river, the Brothers waited eight\n    hours for an order which never came. On the following morning,\n    the 30th, they were again with Brother Philip at the same post,\n    at the same hour, and shortly received the order to advance,\n    while, with profound emotion, the venerable Superior, after\n    seeing his \u2018children,\u2019 as he was wont to call them, depart,\n    returned alone to the Rue Oudinot.\n\n    \u201cCannonading was heard towards the southeast. The two corps\n    of the army, under Gens. Blanchard and Renault, had attacked\n    Champigny and the table-land of Villiers. The Brothers,\n    mounted in various vehicles, proceeded towards the barrier of\n    Charenton, on their way receiving many encouraging acclamations\n    from the people. Their work commenced on the right bank of\n    the Marne, which they crossed on a bridge of boats, not far\n    from Champigny and Villiers, amid the rattling of musketry\n    and the roar of heavy guns. Divided into companies of ten,\n    each with its surgeon, provided with litters, and wearing the\n    armlet marked with the Red Cross, they proceed to seek the\n    wounded, troubling themselves little about finding death. They\n    are attended by ambulance carriages, in which they place the\n    sufferers, who are taken to Paris by the _bateaux mouches_\n    (small packet-boats of the Seine). When litters are not to\n    be had, the Brothers themselves carry those whom they pick\n    up, sometimes for long distances, never seeming to think\n    themselves near enough to danger, because they wish to be as\n    near as possible to those who may be reached by the shell and\n    shot. They walk on tranquilly and fearlessly, the murdering\n    projectiles appearing to respect them. They have lifted up the\n    brave Gen. Renault, mortally wounded by the splinter of a bomb.\n\n    \u201cThis general, before his death, a few days afterwards, said\n    to the Brother Director of Montrouge: \u2018I have grown gray on\n    battle-fields; I have seen twenty-two campaigns; but I never\n    saw so murderous an engagement as this.\u2019 And it was in the\n    midst of this tempest of fire that the Brothers fulfilled their\n    charitable mission. No one could see without admiration their\n    delicate and intelligent care of the wounded.\u201d\n\nOn this latter subject, M. d\u2019Arsac writes as follows:\n\n    \u201cThey\u201d (the Brothers) \u201cknelt down upon the damp earth--in the\n    ice, in the snow, or in the mud--raising the heavy heads,\n    questioning the livid lips, the extinguished gaze, and, after\n    affording the last solace that was possible, recommencing\n    their difficult and perilous journey across the ball-ploughed\n    land, through the heaps of scattered fragments and of corpses,\n    amid the movements to and fro upon the field of carnage. Very\n    gently they lift this poor fellow, wounded in the chest,\n    raising him on a supple hammock of plaited straw, keeping the\n    head high, and placing a pillow under the shoulders, avoiding\n    anything like a shock.\u2026 Thus they advance with slow and even\n    pace never stopping for a moment to wipe their foreheads. A\n    woollen covering envelops the wounded man from the shoulders\n    downward. Often his stiffened hand still clutches his weapon\n    with a spasmodic grasp, \u2026 the arm hangs helplessly, and from\n    minute to minute a shiver runs over the torn frame. He faints,\n    or in a low whisper names those he loves. The Brothers quicken\n    their steps. The \u2018Binder\u2019 carriage is not yet there; so they\n    lay their burden gently down upon a mattress, in some room\n    transformed into an ambulance, where a number of young men, in\n    turned-up sleeves and aprons of operation, are in attendance.\n    They pour a cordial through the closed teeth of the sufferer,\n    complete the amputation of the all but severed limb, and do\n    that to save life which the enemy did to destroy it.\u201d\n\nThe Brother Director of Montrouge gives the following account of the\nnight which followed the battle of Champigny:\n\n    \u201cBeing stronger and more robust than the rest, I got into one\n    of Potin\u2019s wagons, and returned to beat the country around\n    Champigny, Petit-Bry, and Tremblay. On reaching the plateau\n    of Noisy, where lay many wounded, uttering cries of pain and\n    despair, a soldier, who was cutting a piece of flesh from a\n    horse killed that morning, told me that the Prussians would\n    not allow them to be removed, and that if I went further I\n    should be made prisoner. I went on, notwithstanding, in the\n    hope of succoring these poor fellows, but presently a patrol\n    fire barred the way against me, and compelled me to believe\n    the statement of the marauding soldier. It was one o\u2019clock\n    in the morning; and I went away, grieved to the heart at the\n    thought of those unhappy men lying there on the cold earth,\n    into which their life-blood was soaking, in the piercing cold,\n    and under the pitiless eye of an inhuman enemy. The man who\n    drove my conveyance was afraid, and his wearied horses refused\n    to go a step further; I left them therefore in the road, and,\n    lantern in hand, walked along the lanes, through the woods,\n    across the fields, but found everywhere nothing but corpses.\n    I called, and listened, but everywhere the only answer was\n    the silence of death. At last I went towards the glimmering\n    lights of the watch-fires of our soldiers, and learnt that on\n    the hill, into a house which had been left standing, several\n    men had been carried at nightfall; and there in fact I found\n    them, twenty-one in number, lying at the foot of a wall whither\n    they had dragged themselves from a ditch where they had been\n    left, and patiently waiting until some one should come to their\n    assistance. Happily I was soon joined here by others, who\n    helped me to place the wounded in different vehicles, and we\n    set out for Paris, where we arrived at half-past four in the\n    morning. After seeing them safely housed, I set out again for\n    Champigny, longing to know the fate of the poor creatures whose\n    cries had pierced my very soul, without my being able to succor\n    them. I hastened to the plateau of Noisy, and there found\n    eighty frozen corpses. Some had died in terrible contortions,\n    grasping the earth and tearing up the grass around them;\n    others, with open eyes and closed fists, appeared fierce and\n    threatening even in death; while others again, whose stiffened\n    hands were raised to heaven, announced, by the composure of\n    their countenances, that they had expired in calmness and\n    resignation, and perhaps pardoning their executioners the\n    physical and moral tortures they endured.\u201d\n\nDuring any suspension of arms, the Brothers buried the dead, digging\nlong trenches in the hard and snow-covered earth, in which the corpses,\nin their uniforms, were laid in rows. A single day did not suffice for\nthese interments, everything being done with order and respect. When all\nwas ended, the falling snow soon spread one vast winding-sheet over the\nburied ranks, while the Brothers, having finished their sad day\u2019s toil by\ntorchlight, knelt down and said the _De profundis_.\n\nEvery fresh combat saw these acts of intrepid charity renewed. Brother\nPhilip, although, on account of his advanced age, not himself on the\nfield, was the moving spirit of the work. Daily, before the Brothers\nstarted for their labors, he multiplied his affectionate and thoughtful\nattentions, going from one to another during the frugal breakfast which\npreceded their departure, with here a word of encouragement and there of\nregard. He arranged and put in readiness with his own hands the meagre\npittance for the day, and examined the canteens and wallets to see that\nnothing was wanting. His paternal countenance wore an expression of\nhappiness and affection, not untinged with melancholy, and seemed to say,\n\u201cThey go forth numerous and strong, but will they all return?\u201d\n\nOn the morning of the 21st of December, 1870, long before daybreak,\nBrother Philip and a hundred and fifty of his \u201cchildren\u201d were at their\nusual place near the Champ de Mars; others of their number, under the\ndirection of Brother Clementis, having been sent on the previous evening\nto sleep at St. Denis. The roar of the cannon on this morning was\nterrible. It was the battle of Bourget. The Brothers, after reaching\nthe barrier of La Villette, hastened to the points where men must\nhave fallen, and were soon carrying the wounded in their arms to the\nambulance-carriages, and returning for more, regardless of the hail of\nshot whistling around them. Two courageous Dominicans had joined the\ncompany led on by Brother Clementis, which was preceded by a Brother\ncarrying the red-cross flag of the Convention of Geneva, and not attended\nby any soldier, when they received a charge of musketry. One of the\nBrothers, \u201cFr\u00e8re Nethelme,\u201d fell mortally wounded, and was laid on the\nlitter he was carrying for others, and taken by two of his companions\nto St. Denis, whither Brother Philip immediately hastened on receiving\ntidings of what had befallen him. Brother Nethelme was one of the masters\nat S. Nicolas, Rue Vaugirard, and thirty-one years of age. He lived three\ndays of great suffering and perfect resignation, and died on Christmas\nEve. His funeral took place on S. Stephen\u2019s Day, December 26, in the\nChurch of S. Sulpice, which was thronged with a sympathizing multitude.\nThis death of one of their number, instead of chilling the zeal of the\nBrothers, kindled a fresh glow of their courageous ardor.\n\nOther trials of a similar nature were in store for the Superior-General.\nWhen, in the midst of the bombardment of January, 1871, great havoc was\nmade in the house of S. Nicolas by the bursting of a shell, it was with\nan aching heart that he beheld so many of the pupils killed or wounded,\nand that, a fortnight after the funeral of Brother Nethelme, he followed\nthe young victims to their graves. This cruel bombardment on the quarters\nof the Luxembourg and the Invalides excited the minds of the people to\nvengeance, and led to the sanguinary attempt of Buzenval. Brother Philip\nhaving had notice the evening before, a hundred of the Brothers assembled\nin the Tuileries, from whence they started for the scene of action, and\napproached the park of Buzenval through a hailstorm of balls, to find the\nground already strewn with wounded. The soaking in of the snow having\nmade the land a perfect marsh, greatly increased the difficulty of their\nlabor, but they only exerted themselves the more, astonishing those who\nobserved them. On the 19th the Committee of the Ambulances of the Press\nfor the second time addressed to the Superior-General its thanks and\ncongratulations.\n\nAfter the battle near Joinville-le-Pont, the Brothers had to carry the\nwounded a league before reaching the carriages.\n\nIn this brief sketch we can give but a very inadequate idea of the\nwork of the Brothers, not only in collecting and housing the wounded,\nbut also in nursing them with unwearied assiduity day and night. The\nambulance at Longchamps, a long wooden building, had been organized by\nDr. Ricord, the first physician in Paris, and an excellent Christian,\nwho had obtained numerous auxiliaries from Brother Philip. One of\nthese, Brother Exup\u00e9rien, showed an extraordinary solicitude for the\nfour hundred wounded of whom he there shared the charge. The cold was\nintense; there was scarcely any fuel; and food of any kind was difficult\nto be had. This good Brother never wearied in his constant and often\nfar-distant search for supplies for the many and pressing necessities of\nthe sufferers; day after day walking long distances, and often having to\nexercise considerable ingenuity to get even the scanty provision which\nhis perseverance succeeded in obtaining.\n\nBrother Philip bestowed his especial interest on the ambulance\nestablished in the Mother-house, Rue Oudinot, and which was called the\nambulance of S. Maurice. The novices had been removed into the nooks and\ncorners of the establishment, so as to give plenty of air and space to\nthe suffering soldiers. All the Brothers in this house, young and old,\ndevoted themselves to their sick and wounded; Brother Philip setting the\nexample. He would go from one bed to another, contrive pleasant little\nsurprises, and do everything that could be done to cheer the spirits of\nthe patients as well as to afford them physical relief. The Abb\u00e9 Roche,\nthe almoner of the mother-house, exercised with the greatest prudence and\nkindness the priestly office in this ambulance.\n\nOn the 1st of January, 1871, one of the soldiers decorated at Champigny\nfor bravery read aloud to Brother Philip, in the \u201cgreat room,\u201d turned\ninto an ambulance, a \u201ccompliment,\u201d in which he offered him, as a New\nYear\u2019s gift on behalf of all, the expression of their gratitude. On\nthe 6th, in a letter to the Superior-General from Count S\u00e9rurier,\nvice-president of the _Soci\u00e9t\u00e9 de Secours_, and delegate of the Minister\nof War and of the Marine, he says: \u201cAll France is penetrated with\nadmiration, reverence, and gratitude for the examples of patriotism and\nself-devotion afforded by your institute in the midst of the trials sent\nby Providence upon our country.\u201d\n\nThe first Brother who re-entered Paris on the day after the signing of\nthe armistice at Versailles was the Director of the orphanage at Igny. It\nwas like an apparition once more from the world without, after the long\nimprisonment under the fire of the enemy.\n\nIt must not be forgotten that, besides all that we have mentioned from\nthe beginning of the war to the end of the first siege, teaching was\nnot neglected by the Brothers for a single day; all else that they were\ndoing was but a supplement to their ordinary occupations; and all went\nwell at the same time, in the schools, the ambulances, and on the field\nof battle. It was as if they multiplied themselves for the good of their\nfellow-countrymen.\n\nAcknowledgments in honor of their courageous devotion were sent from\nnearly every civilized country; but amongst all these we select one for\nmention as having a particular interest for Americans. We give it in\nthe words of M. Poujoulat--first stating, however, that the _Acad\u00e9mie\nFran\u00e7aise_ had awarded an exceptional prize, declared \u201csuperior to all\nthe other prizes by its origin and its object,\u201d to the Institute of the\nChristian Brothers. M. Poujoulat writes as follows:[138]\n\n    \u201cIn 1870, we were abandoned by every government, but when our\n    days of misfortune commenced, we were not forgotten by the\n    nations. There arose, as it were, a compassionate charity\n    over all the earth to assuage our sorrows. The amount of\n    gifts was something enormous. One single city of the United\n    States, Boston, with its environs, collected the sum of eight\n    hundred thousand francs. The _Worcester_, a vessel laden\n    with provisions, set sail for Havre, but on hearing of the\n    conclusion of peace, the insurrection, and the second siege\n    of Paris, the American captain repaired to England, where the\n    ship\u2019s cargo was sold, and the amount distributed among those\n    localities in France which had suffered most. When this had\n    been done, there still remained two thousand francs over, which\n    the members of the Boston Committee offered to the _Acad\u00e9mie\n    Fran\u00e7aise_, to be added to the prize for virtue which was to be\n    given that year. \u2018This gift,\u2019 said the letter with which it was\n    accompanied, \u2018is part of a subscription which represents all\n    classes of the citizens of Boston, and is intended to express\n    the sympathy and respect of the Americans for the courage,\n    generosity, and disinterested devotion of the French during the\n    siege of their capital.\u2019\n\n    \u201cThe Academy, in possession of this gift, deliberated as to\n    whom the prize should be decreed, it being difficult to point\n    out the most meritorious among so many admirable deeds. After\n    having remarked, not without pride, upon the equality of\n    patriotism, the Academy resolved to give to this prize the\n    least personal and the most collective character possible.\n\n    \u201c\u2018We have decreed it,\u2019 said the Duc de Noailles, speaking for\n    the Academy, \u2018to an entire body, as humble as it is useful,\n    known and esteemed by every one, and which, in these unhappy\n    times, has, by its devotedness, won for itself a veritable\n    glory: I allude to the Institute of the Brothers of the\n    Christian Schools.\u2019\n\n    \u201cAfter the Director of the _Acad\u00e9mie Fran\u00e7aise_, in an eloquent\n    speech had justified the decision, he added that \u2018this prize\n    would be to the Institute as the Cross of Honor fastened to the\n    flag of the regiment.\u2019\u201d\n\nAlready had the Government of the National Defence perseveringly insisted\nupon Brother Philip\u2019s acceptance of the Cross of the Legion of Honor,\nthe reward of the brave; but his humility led him to do all in his power\nto escape it, and he had already refused it four times in the course of\nthirty years. It was only when he was assured that it was not himself,\nbut his Institute, that it was desired to decorate in the person of its\nSuperior-General, that, sorely against his will, he ceased to resist. Dr.\nRicord, in his quality of principal witness of the devotedness of the\nBrothers, was charged to attach the Cross of Honor to Brother Philip\u2019s\ncassock, in the _grande salle_, or principal room, of the mother house.\nNever had the saintly Superior known a more embarrassing moment than this\nin all the course of his long life; and when he conducted Dr. Ricord\nto the door of the house, he managed so effectively to conceal his new\ndecoration that no one would have suspected its existence. He never wore\nit after this occasion; and this Cross of Honor which he wished to hide\nfrom earth remains as a sort of mysterious remembrance. It has never been\nfound again.\n\nAlways clear-sighted and well-informed, the Superior-General had been\nwatching the approach of the insurrection of the 18th of March, and sent\naway the pupils of the Little and Great Novitiates, foreseeing that Paris\nwas about to fall into the power of the worst enemies of religion and\ncivilization. The satanic character of the Commune declared itself in the\nwords of Raoul Rigault, one of its chiefs, who said: \u201cSo long as there\nremains a single individual who pronounces the name of God, everything\nhas yet to be done, and there more shooting will always be necessary.\u201d\nThe Commune began its work by beating down the cross on the church of\nS. G\u00e9nevi\u00e8ve, and putting the red flag in its place. We cannot wonder,\ntherefore, at its hatred of the Christian Brothers--their Christianity\nbeing an unpardonable crime. They were not even allowed to remove the\nwounded, who were left to die untended in the street, rather than that\nthey should be succored by religious.\n\nTwo decrees were passed, one putting the state in possession of all\nproperty, movable or otherwise, belonging to the religious communities,\nand the other incorporating into the marching companies all valid\ncitizens between nineteen and forty years of age. The Commune was\nreturning to its traditions of \u201993, \u201cinterrupted,\u201d it was stated, \u201cby\nthe 9th of Thermidor.\u201d There were to be no more Christian schools; no\nmore Christ; no more religion; no more works of piety, Catechism, First\nCommunion, the Church--all these were proscribed, and none but atheists\nmight keep a school.\n\nBut we will give some extracts from a circular issued to his community by\nthe Superior on the 21st of June, 1872, in which he briefly notes down\nthe events of these dreary days:\n\n    \u201cThe festival of Easter (April 9th) was spent in anxiety,\n    sadness, and mourning, for Monseigneur the Archbishop and\n    several priests have been arrested as hostages.\n\n    \u201cApril 10th: Some of our Brother Directors were officially\n    informed that my name had been placed on the proscription list,\n    and that I should be arrested forthwith. Yielding, therefore,\n    to the solicitations of my Brother Directors, and to the\n    injunctions of our dear Brother Assistants, I quitted Paris to\n    visit our houses in the provinces.\n\n    \u201cOn the 11th of April, towards ten o\u2019clock in the morning,\n    a commissioner and delegate of the Commune, accompanied by\n    forty of the National Guard, surrounded the house, announcing\n    that they had orders to take me away, and to search the\n    establishment. Brother Calixtus told them that I was absent,\n    and accompanied them wherever they wished to go. They carried\n    off the money that remained in the chest, as well as two\n    ciboria, two chalices, and a pyx, after which they declared\n    that, in default of finding the Superior, they were to lead off\n    the person who had been left there in his place.\n\n    \u201cThe dear Brother Calixtus presented himself, and was ordered\n    by the commissioner to follow him; whereupon there ensued\n    a scene which it would be impossible to describe. All the\n    Brothers insisted on following our dear Brother Assistant;\n    and some even of the National Guards were moved to tears. A\n    crowd of people collected in the street, expressing grief and\n    indignation. The commissioner then gave a promise that Brother\n    Calixtus should not be detained a prisoner, at the same time\n    bidding him get into a cab, which took him to the prefecture\n    of police. There he was set at liberty, and returned to the\n    mother-house.\n\n    \u201cFrom the 10th to the 13th our Brothers of Montrouge,\n    Belleville, and S. Nicolas were expelled, and lay teachers\n    put in their place. On the 17th the house at M\u00e9nilmontant was\n    searched at the very time that the Brothers were engaged with\n    the classes; they were arrested, and detained prisoners until\n    the 22d, during which time they were threatened and insulted\n    in various ways. On the 18th a staff of military _infirmiers_\n    was substituted for the Brothers in charge of the ambulance at\n    Longchamps, and the Brother Assistants were officially informed\n    that it was resolved upon to arrest the Brothers _en masse_,\n    in order either to imprison them or to enrol them for military\n    service. Thus they put soldiers with our sick, and intended to\n    send us on the ramparts to defend the cause of our persecutors,\n    who were also the enemies of order and religion. It was a\n    critical moment, but Providence came to our aid in a particular\n    manner. Many persons, several of whom were unknown to us,\n    offered their assistance in contriving to send out of Paris\n    those of our Brothers who were between nineteen and forty years\n    of age, and, thanks to God\u2019s goodness and to this friendly\n    aid, a certain number, by one means or another, daily effected\n    their escape.\n\n    \u201cDuring the period between the 19th of April and the 7th of\n    May, all our free schools were successively closed, and the\n    emigration of the Brothers continued. This, however, could\n    not be completely accomplished; new orders, more and mote\n    suspicious and oppressive, having been issued by the Commune,\n    an increasingly rigorous surveillance was kept up, and the\n    Brother Director of S. Margu\u00e9rite and two of his subordinates\n    were arrested in their community. Towards the 7th of May, from\n    thirty to forty of the Brothers who were attempting to escape\n    were also arrested, either at the railway stations or at the\n    city gates, or even outside the ramparts. A few of these were\n    released, but twenty-six were taken to the Conci\u00e8rgerie, and\n    from thence to Mazas.\n\n    \u201cOf all our establishments, one alone never ceased working,\n    namely, that of S. Nicolas, Vaugirard, which, even when times\n    were at their worst, numbered its thirty Brothers and three\n    hundred pupils.\n\n    \u201cThe projectiles of the besieging army having reached\n    Longchamps, it was found necessary to remove further, into the\n    city the sick and wounded with which the ambulance was crowded.\n    It was then that, on an order of the Committee of Public\n    Health, our house was requisitioned by the Administration of\n    the Press, who required there a hundred beds. It was arranged\n    that the Brothers should undertake the attendance on the\n    sick, but scarcely had they begun to organize the work before\n    a new order arrived from the committee, forbidding any of\n    the Brothers to remain in the house under pain of arrest and\n    imprisonment. Our dear Brother Assistants therefore, with the\n    others who until then had remained at the post of danger, as\n    well as our sick and aged men, found themselves compelled to\n    quit that home which could no longer, alas! be railed the\n    mother, but the widowed, house, and, during five or six days,\n    the abode of pain and death. The ambulance was established\n    there under the direction of the Press, the administrators of\n    which testified a kindly interest towards us, and we gladly\n    acknowledge that to them we owe the preservation of our house,\n    which, but for them, would in all probability have been given\n    up to the flames.\n\n    \u201cOn Sunday, the 21st of May, there was no Mass in our deserted\n    chapel, from whence the Blessed Sacrament had been removed the\n    evening before. The persecution against us had reached its\n    height, and also its term. That same day the besieging army\n    forced the Gate of St. Cloud, and on the next, the 22d, took\n    possession of our quarter, and put an end for us to the Reign\n    of Terror.\u2026\n\n    \u201cAll this week was nothing but one sanguinary conflict; our\n    mother-house was crowded with wounded to the number of six\n    hundred; a temporary building had also been erected within its\n    precincts, to which were brought those who were slain in the\n    neighborhood; as many as eighty dead would sometimes be carried\n    in at a time. On Wednesday, the 24th, however, the military\n    authorities decided that the ambulance should be transferred\n    back again to Longchamps, and that the Brothers should\n    immediately be restored to the possession of the mother-house\n    as well as of their other establishments. From that day a new\n    order of things commenced for us, and with it the reflux into\n    Paris of our emigrated Brothers.\n\n    \u201cBut all were not able to return; some were prisoners at\n    Mazas. Already, out of hatred to religion, the Commune had\n    shot Monseigneur the Archbishop, the _cure_ of the Madeleine,\n    and several other priests, secular and regular, \u2026 and they now\n    proposed to shoot _all_ their prisoners, and renew in 1871 the\n    massacre of 1792. But again time failed them.\n\n    \u201cThe liberating army, like an irresistible torrent, carried\n    away the barricades, and the firing soon began around Mazas,\n    whereupon the keepers of the prison seized the Communist\n    director and locked him up, opening all the doors, and\n    bringing down the captives--between four and five hundred in\n    number--into the court, from whence they made their exit three\n    by three. Our Brothers went out; but only to find themselves\n    entangled in the lines of the Federals, and forced to work\n    at the barricades, until night seemed to favor their escape.\n    It was while he was thus employed that our dearest Brother\n    N\u00e9omede-Justin, of Issy, was killed by the bursting of a shell.\u201d\n\nDuring three days and nights the Brothers were the objects of the most\nactive surveillance, and had to watch their opportunity to recede from\none barricade to another. In this way several managed to reach the\nmother-house on Friday, the 25th; others, on the two following days, but\nnot all. To continue in the words of Brother Philip:\n\n    \u201cOn Whit-Sunday, towards one o\u2019clock in the morning, all the\n    insurgents were surrounded on the heights of Belleville,\n    disarmed, chained five together, taken to La Roquette (the\n    prison of the condemned), and brought before a council of\n    war. Our two Brothers, who had been also chained to three\n    insurgents, were present at the interrogation of those who\n    had preceded them, and at the execution of sentence of death\n    upon a large number. For the space of three hours they waited\n    thus in the most anxious expectation. When it was their turn\n    to appear, they said that they were Brothers of the Christian\n    Schools, just out of prison, but that for three days they had\n    found it impossible to escape from the vigilant oppression of\n    the insurgents. On ascertaining the truth of their statement,\n    the council gave them a pass, and facilitated their return to\n    the mother-house.\n\n    \u201cThey came back to us worn out and broken down by fatigue, as\n    well as by all the terrible emotions they had undergone, and\n    blessing God for their wonderful preservation.\u201d\n\nOn hearing of the restoration of order the emigrated Brothers hastened\nback to Paris, their venerable superior joining them at the mother-house\non the evening of the 9th of June.\n\n\u201cIt was,\u201d writes Brother Philip, \u201cthe hour of Benediction of the Blessed\nSacrament, \u2026 after which we sang the psalm, _Ecce quam bonum_, \u2026 and then\nI attempted to say a few words to our dearest Brothers, reunited once\nmore, but I found it impossible, so great was my emotion.\u201d\n\nWhen, during his absence, Brother Philip had heard of the arrest of\nBrother Calixtus, he immediately set out from Epernay, to give himself\nup in the place of his friend; but learning, at St. Denis, that he had\nbeen set at liberty, he proceeded to the visitation of other houses of\nhis institute in the provinces. We can understand with what joy these two\nholy friends would meet again.\n\nAfter some great calamity has passed away, life, emerging from the\nregions of death, seems as it were to begin anew. Brother Philip, who\nregarded the misfortunes of France as a warning from God, invited all the\nmembers of his institute to carry on their work with increased energy\nand devotion. From the beginning of the year 1872, as if he had had some\npresentiment of his approaching end, he gave more attention than ever to\nthe perfecting of his \u201cchildren,\u201d and completed various little works of\npiety which he thought might prove useful to them. An illness which he\nhad at this time he regarded as a first warning. The Archbishop of Paris,\nMgr. Guibert, who had not then long succeeded his martyred predecessor,\ncame at this time to visit the venerable Superior.\n\nBrother Philip presided at all the sittings of the general chapter which\nwas assembled from the 12th of June, 1873, to the 2d of July. Towards the\nconclusion of the last sitting, in reply to some respectful words which\nhad been addressed to him, he answered: \u201cMy dearest Brothers, soon, yes,\nsoon you will again assemble together, but I shall be no longer among\nyou. I shall have had to render to God an account of my administration.\u201d\nIt was with heavy hearts that the Brother Assistants heard these words,\nwhile their Superior proceeded to consecrate the Institute to the Sacred\nHeart of Jesus.\n\nOur Holy Father Pius IX. had for the heart of Brother Philip an\nunspeakable attraction. On the 22d of October, 1873, the latter set out\non his fifth journey to Rome. His first visit to the Eternal City was in\n1859, when he was welcomed by the Pope with paternal affection. He was\nthere again in 1862, for the canonization of the Martyrs of Japan, when\nhe had an opportunity of conversing with the bishops of many distant\nregions in which the Brothers of the Christian Schools were established.\nOn this second occasion, the day after his arrival in Rome, he hastened\nto the Vatican and mingled with the crowd in the hall of audience;\nbut the Pope having observed his name in the long list of the persons\npresent, immediately sought with his eye the humble Superior, and,\nperceiving him far off in the last rank of the assembly, his Holiness,\nwith that clear and sweet voice so well known to the faithful, said to\nhim, _Philip, where shall we find bread enough for all this multitude?_\n(S. John vi. 5), and bade him come near. Brother Philip, confused at so\ngreat a mark of attention, approached, and, kneeling before the Holy\nFather, presented the filial offering of which he was the bearer on the\npart of his Institute. He made his third journey to Rome in 1867, to\nbe present at the eighteenth centenary anniversary of the Martyrdom of\nthe Apostles SS. Peter and Paul. On seeing him, the Pope said, \u201cHere is\nBrother Philip, whose name is known in all the world.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt will soon be so at Madagascar, Most Holy Father,\u201d answered Brother\nPhilip, smiling, \u201cas we are just now establishing ourselves there.\u201d\n\nIn 1869, about the time of the opening of the Vatican Council, the\nSuperior-General was again at Rome. True as the needle to the magnet\nwas his loyal heart to the Vicar of Christ; and yet once more must the\nveteran soldier look upon the face of his chief before laying down his\narms and receiving his crown. He took his fifth and last journey to the\ncity of Peter in 1872, accompanied by Brother Firminien. Of this last\nvisit, which especially concerned the beatification of the founder of his\nInstitute, as well as of the preceding ones, full particulars are given\nin the work of M. Poujoulat. The Pope received Brother Philip to private\nas well as to public audiences, asking many questions and conversing\nwith interest upon the details of the various works in which the order\nwas engaged. On the Festival of All Saints, more than a hundred of the\nBrothers being assembled with their Superior-General in the throne-room\nat the Vatican, the Pope entered, preceded by his court, and attended\nby five cardinals, numerous bishops, and other ecclesiastics, for the\nreading of the decree referring to the beatification of the venerable De\nla Salle. When a few lines had been read, His Holiness said to one of the\nprelates, \u201cDo not allow Brother Philip to continue kneeling; the brave\nold man must be fatigued.\u201d\n\nThe reading being ended, Brother Philip was invited to approach the\nHoly Father, to whom he made an address of thanks for the progress of\nhis founder\u2019s cause, concluding with the following words: \u201cWith regard\nto our devotion to the Holy Church, to this ever-celebrated chair of\nPeter, and to the illustrious and infallible Pontiff who occupies it so\ngloriously, it will be the same all the days of our life; and, moreover,\nwe shall never cease, Most Holy Father, to offer to God our most fervent\nprayers that he will speedily put an end to the calamities which afflict\nso profoundly the paternal heart of Your Blessedness, \u2026 praying Your\nBlessedness to be pleased to bestow your holy benediction upon him who\nhas at this moment the exceeding happiness of kneeling at your feet, and\nalso upon all the other children of the venerable De la Salle.\u201d\n\nCopies of the decree were then distributed amongst those present, the\noriginal manuscript, which was presented to the Superior, being now in\nthe archives of the _R\u00e9gime_. The Pope addressed his answer directly to\nhis \u201cdearest son, Brother Philip,\u201d as if to testify his esteem not only\nfor the Institute but for the man. Immediately after the closing of the\naudience, the Pope despatched messengers to the Palazzo Poli with two\nimmense baskets full of various kinds of pastry, etc., saying, \u201cBrother\nPhilip must assemble the Brothers to-day for a little family feast, and\nI wish to regale them\u201d; and when afterwards the Superior expressed his\nthanks for this paternal mark of attention, the Holy Father answered:\n\u201cSome good nuns thought of the Pope, and the Pope thought of Brother\nPhilip.\u201d\n\nOn his return from this last journey to Rome, the Superior reached Paris\nat seven o\u2019clock in the morning, was present at Mass in the mother-house\nat eight, and half an hour later was seated at his bureau as usual in the\n_Salle du R\u00e9gime_, as if he had never quitted his place. The longest life\nis short; but what can be done by a man who never wastes a moment of his\ntime is something prodigious. One result of this unceasing activity on\nthe part of Brother Philip was the fact that, having found 2,300 Brothers\nand 143,000 pupils when he was placed at the head of the Institute, he\nleft 10,000 of the former engaged in the education of 400,000 youths and\nchildren. He was a man of study, prayer, and action; no one could be more\nhumble than he, nor yet more qualified to govern. He listened patiently\nto arguments and suggestions, but, when his resolution was once taken, he\nadhered to it. He spoke little, having neither taste nor time for much\ntalking, but what he said was always to the point, the right thing at\nthe right time, and the truth on every question. His correspondence was\na reflection of himself, his letters containing just so many syllables\nas were sufficient to express his meaning: with him, a letter was an\naction. He was at the same time the most devout of religious and the most\nassiduous of workers; severe to himself, and never accepting the little\nindulgences which others would fain have mingled with the hardness of\nhis life. The Abb\u00e9 Roche mentions that on one occasion Brother Philip,\narriving in a little town of Cantal after forty hours of travelling, had\none hour to rest. Being shown the way to the house of the Brothers, he\nfound them assembled in the chapel, where he remained until the prayers\nwere over. Then, after exchanging greetings with them, and taking a\nmorsel of bread moistened with wine and water, he resumed his journey.\nThere are few communities of his Institute in France which he did not\nvisit, and in all these his presence left an abiding remembrance.\n\nThe art of ruling presupposes a knowledge of men. Under his simple and\nmodest exterior, Brother Philip had a keen penetration; he very quickly\nformed his judgment of what a man was and what were his capabilities,\nand there could be no better proof that he chose his instruments wisely\nthan the fact that all his establishments have succeeded; not that he\nalways allowed human prudence to have much voice in his undertakings,\nas he frequently preferred to leave much to Providence. His look and\nmanner were reserved, almost cold, but in his heart were depths of real\ntenderness and feeling. He allowed no recreation to his fully occupied\nexistence except indeed his one refreshment and rest, which was in\nattending the services at the chapel; and his great enjoyment, the beauty\nof the ceremonies and the grand and ancient music of the church. He never\nfailed to bestow the most particular attention on every detail of the\nprocession on the Feast of Corpus Christi, and took an especial delight\nin being present at the First Communion of the pupils. For this great act\nof the Christian life he recommended a long and serious preparation, and\nwrote a manual with this intent, entitled _The Young Communicant_.\n\nHe excelled in the art of solving difficulties, not by having recourse to\nhuman wisdom, but by imploring light and guidance from above. To overcome\nobstacles, he prayed; he did the same to lead his enemies to a better\nmind; and against their decisions, again he armed himself with prayer.\n\nThe municipal council of Ch\u00e2lons had, in 1863, suppressed the Christian\nschools in that town. Brother Philip repaired thither on the 2d of May.\nThe mayor gave notice that the council would assemble on the following\nday. The Superior was suffering from acute rheumatism, but would not\naccept anything but the regulation supper of the Brothers, who made\nhim a bed in the parlor. The next morning, at four o\u2019clock, when the\ncommunity had risen, they found Brother Philip kneeling on the pavement\nof the chapel, and it was observed that his bed had not been touched. He\nhad passed the night in prayer before the Tabernacle. At six o\u2019clock he\nattended Mass with his foot bound up in linen. On the evening of the same\nday the municipal council, annulling its decision of the preceding year,\npermitted the re-establishment of the Christian Schools in Ch\u00e2lons. The\nSuperior had not prayed in vain.\n\nOne of his principal cares was always the reinforcement of his Institute,\nand it was with exceeding happiness that, on the 7th of December, 1873,\nhe presided at the reception of fifty-four postulants.\n\nIt was not without apprehension that the Brothers had seen their\nvenerated Superior, at eighty-one years of age, undertake his last\njourney to Rome, but after his return his activity was unabated, and he\ndid not in any way diminish his daily amount of work. On the 30th of\nDecember, having returned to the mother-house in the evening from a visit\nto Passy, he was indisposed, but rose the next morning at the hour of\nthe community. After Mass he was seized with a shivering; he repaired,\nhowever, to the _Salle du R\u00e9gime_, where deputations from the three\nestablishments of S. Nicolas were waiting to offer him their respectful\ngreetings for the New Year. On receiving their addresses he answered,\nin a weak and failing voice: \u201cMy dearest children, I thank you for your\nkindness in coming so early to wish me a happy New Year; perhaps I shall\nnot see its close. I am touched by the sentiments you have so well\nexpressed, but, for my own part, there is but one thing that I desire,\nand that is, that you should go on increasing in virtue.\u201d After a few\nmore words of paternal counsel, he bade them adieu.\n\nThe exchange of good wishes between himself and the community was not\nwithout sadness. On the 1st of January he made a great effort to go to\nthe chapel, where he heard Mass and received Holy Communion. This was\nthe last time that he appeared amid the assembled Brothers; his weakness\nwas extreme, and his prayers were accompanied by evident suffering. From\nthe chapel the Superior went to his bed, from which he was to arise no\nmore. On the 6th of January, the Feast of the Epiphany, he received the\nlast sacraments, while the Brother Assistants were prostrate around his\nbed, weeping and praying. One who appeared more broken down with sorrow\nthan the rest was Brother Calixtus, the old and most intimately beloved\nfriend of the dying Superior. The Apostolic Benediction solicited by\nBrother Floride at four o\u2019clock arrived at six, but Brother Philip,\nhaving fallen into a profound slumber, was not aware of it until past\nmidnight. The morning prayers were being said in a low voice in his cell,\nit not being known whether he was unconscious or not, but the Brother\nwho presided having, through distraction, begun the _Angelus_ instead of\nthe _Memorare_, the dying man gave a sign to show that he was making a\nmistake.\n\nThere is a little versicle and response particularly dear to the dying\nmembers of the Institute: \u201c_May Jesus live within our hearts!_\u201d to which\nthe answer is, \u201c_For ever._\u201d It is, as it were, their watchword on the\nthreshold of eternity. On the morning of the 7th of January, Brother\nIrlide, assistant, bending over the Superior, pronounced the words of\nJesus on the Cross: \u201c_Father, into thy hands I commend my spirit_,\u201d\nadding, \u201c_May Jesus live within our hearts_.\u201d Brother Philip, like a\nfaithful soldier, ever ready with the countersign, attempted to utter\nthe answer \u201c_For ever_,\u201d but in the effort his soul passed away. The\ncommunity being then assembled in the chapel for the recitation of the\nRosary, at once commenced the _De profundis_. The Institute had lost its\nfather and head.\n\nThe death of Brother Philip produced a profound impression. Together\nwith the sense of a great loss, a feeling of admiration for the great\nqualities of the departed, and gratitude for the immense services he had\nrendered to his countrymen, burst forth from all ranks of society. The\nworking-classes more especially felt keenly how true a friend they had\nlost, and the announcement, \u201cBrother Philip is dead,\u201d plunged every heart\ninto mourning. From the moment of his death the cell of the Superior was\nconstantly filled by the novices, who in successive companies recited\nthe Office of the Dead. In the evening, the body was removed into the\nChamber of Relics, which had been transformed into a _chapelle ardente_,\nor lighted chapel, and there in the course of two days more than ten\nthousand persons came to pay their respects and to pray by the dead.\nOn the Friday evening the remains were enclosed in a coffin, which was\ncovered with garlands and bouquets which had been brought, a tall palm\nbeing placed at the top; and on Saturday morning it was transferred to\nthe chapel, where the sorrowing community had assembled, and where a Low\nMass of requiem was said by the Reverend Almoner, the Abb\u00e9 Roche.\n\nBut another kind of funeral was awaiting the humble religious. The\nInstitute, in accordance with its rules, had ordered merely a funeral\nof the seventh class; but France, true to herself, was about to honor\nher benefactor with triumphant obsequies. The coffin, taken out of the\nmother-house at a quarter past seven, and placed upon a bier used for the\npoorest of the people, was borne to the church of S. Sulpice, through\nsilent and respectful multitudes, and placed upon trestles, surrounded\nby lighted tapers, in the nave. A white cross on a black ground behind\nthe high altar composed all the funeral decoration of the church. But\na splendor of its own was attached to this poverty and simplicity,\ncontrasted as it was with the vast assemblage present, among whom were\ntwo cardinals, several bishops, and many of the most important personages\nof the church and state. There were the representatives of all the\nparishes of Paris, and of all the religious orders, as well as of the\npublic administration. Not the smallest space remained unoccupied in the\nvast church; and, when it was found necessary to close the doors, more\nthan ten thousand persons remained in the Place St. Sulpice. Cardinal\nGuibert, Archbishop of Paris, gave the absolution, and M. Buffet,\nPresident of the National Assembly, threw the first holy water on the\ncoffin.\n\n\u201cOn both sides of the streets,\u201d writes an eye-witness, \u201cthe crowd formed\na compact mass; the men uncovered, and the women crossing themselves, as\nthe body of the venerated Superior passed by. Long lines of children\nconducted by the Brothers marched continuously on each side. In the\ncourse of the progress to the cemetery of P\u00e8re la Chaise, ten thousand\npupils of the Christian Brothers, school by school taking its turn,\njoined without fatigue in the procession.\u201d\n\nParis, this city so wonderful in its contrasts--in the brightness of its\nlights and the depths of its shadows--is more Christian than men are\napt to suppose. Out of this Paris no less than _forty thousand persons_\nattended the remains of Brother Philip to the grave, and many were the\ntears of heartfelt sorrow which mingled with the last prayers at the\nbrink of that vault where he was laid, the place of burial reserved for\nthe Superiors of his order. On the day of the funeral itself, the memory\nof Brother Philip received from Cardinal Guibert, in his circular letter\naddressed to the venerable _cur\u00e9_ of S. Sulpice, a testimony which will\nremain as a page in the history of the church of Paris.\n\nAnd it was not Paris only, but France, which paid its homage to the\nmemory of Brother Philip. The whole French episcopate testified its\nregard for him by requiem Masses on his behalf, by solemn services,\nfuneral orations, allocutions, or circular letters. Nor was this\nreligious mourning limited to France: it was expressed in all the lands\nwhere the Christian Schools have been founded, so that throughout the\nworld honor has been done to him who never sought it, but who, on the\ncontrary, shrank from celebrity, feared the praise of man, and singly and\nsimply did all for God.\n\nAs the crown and completion of all other witness to the merits of\nthe departed Superior, the Brothers received in answer to the letter\nannouncing their bereavement a Brief from our Holy Father Pius IX.,\nmost honorable to the departed, and for themselves full of sympathy and\nconsolation.\n\nFive months after the death of Brother Philip, the venerable Brother\nCalixtus, who had for sixty-four years been his dearest friend, and who\nwas chosen as Superior-General in his place, followed him to the grave.\n\nHis present successor is Brother Jean-Olympe, an excellent and devoted\nreligious, who, at the time we write, has just returned from Rome, where\nwith four of the Brother Assistants he has been welcomed by the Holy\nFather with marks of particular regard. We conclude our sketch in the\nwords of M. Poujoulat, the admirable writer already so often quoted: \u201cThe\nundying remembrance of Brother Philip will remain a motive power for his\nInstitute, an effective weapon in time of conflict, an incitement to\nperseverance in well-doing, to the love of God, our neighbor, and our\nduty.\u201d\n\n\nSUBMISSION.\n\n    When the wide earth seems cold and dim around me,\n      And even the sunshine is a mocking thing;\n    When the deep sorrow of my soul hath bound me,\n      As the gloom swept from a dark angel\u2019s wing;\n    When faces, dearer to my soul than being,\n      Like shadows faint and frozen past me flee,\n    I turn to thee--Almighty and all-seeing\n      God of the universe!--I turn to thee!\n\n    When in my chamber, lone and lowly kneeling,\n      I pour before thee thoughts that inly burn;\n    I lay before thy shrine that wealth of feeling\n      Whose ashes sleep in my heart\u2019s funeral urn:\n    I pray thee, in a mercy yet untasted,\n      To raise my spirit from its dark despair;\n    To give back prospects crushed, and genius wasted,\n      That have no memory save in that wild prayer.\n\n    It may not be! O Father! high and holy,\n      Not thus thy _chosen_ bow before thy shrine;\n    But with submission, beautiful and lowly,\n      Asking no boon save through thy will divine;\n    Bearing with faith the Saviour\u2019s cross of sorrow,\n      Filling his bleeding wounds with tears of balm,\n    Seeking his cankering crown of thorns to borrow--\n      To make them worthy of the pilgrim\u2019s palm.\n\n\nTHE ROMAN RITUAL AND ITS CHANT\n\n_COMPARED WITH THE WORKS OF MODERN MUSIC._\n\nII.--CONTINUED.\n\n\nRESPECTIVE AUTHORITY, ECCLESIASTICAL AND MORAL.\n\nNatural religion attaches the idea of authority to God. God is King,\n\u201cDominus Exercituum,\u201d the Lord of Hosts, the one supreme absolute source\nof all power and authority. Moreover, society implies authority, in order\nthat it may exist. In social life there cannot be discordant purposes\nand independent wills. Now, God called all created society into being\nout of nothing, and through the principle of authority and subjugation\nof the will maintains his work in love, happiness, and mutual concord.\nAnd in the scheme of redemption he has sent his church, a working society\nupon earth, to heal by her sweet and divine yoke of a lawful authority\nthe social anarchies and disorders of a fallen race. In the church,\nthen, as sent by him who is the absolute source of authority and order,\ngoverned by him, and in continual correspondence with him through prayer,\nwe expect to find all her important elements and modes of acting upon,\nand of dealing with, mankind under the direction of the principle of\nauthority; and since God declares of himself that he is a God of order,\nand the \u201cauthor, not of confusion, but of peace in the churches\u201d (1\nCor. xiv. 33), we conclude that God will contemplate sacred song in\nthe Christian Church as subject to the principle of authority, as an\ninstrument placed by himself at the disposal of the church for carrying\nout her divine work, and as such to be used, under the guidance and\ndirection of the authority which governs her.\n\nTo put, then, what is meant by the claim about to be made that the Ritual\nor Gregorian Chant possesses this authority, in its true light, it would\nbe a misconception to suppose that the notion of a _positive authority_\nis identical with that of _absolute monopoly_. The positive authority\nof the chant of the Ritual by no means implies that the use of modern\nmusic cannot, under certain conditions, enjoy a just toleration, as will\nbe plain from an instance. The sick man who is slowly recovering from a\nsevere disease may be fully aware of the positive authority which his\nphysician has for many reasons attached to a particular rule of diet,\nand may yet have the permission occasionally to deviate from it. But\nnow, if it be asked, what is this authority which is claimed for the\nRoman Ritual chant-books? it may be replied, if a spectator, at a review\nof British military, were to ask what authority the infantry regiments\nhad for wearing red coats, he, I suppose, would be answered at once,\nthat in a disciplined army the regimental uniform could not be otherwise\nthan authorized. In the same manner, in an organized state of society\nso perfect as that of the Catholic Church, the mere existence of such\nsong-books as the Gradual and Antiphonary, and their immemorial use\nin connection with the Missal and Breviary, necessarily implies their\nauthority. It would be in place here, if space permitted, to cite the\nvarious archiepiscopal and episcopal synods that have made these or\nsimilar song-books the subjects of their legislation, providing, down to\nthe minutest details, for the different questions which might be liable\nto arise out of their use. But it may here suffice to refer to the fact,\nnot perhaps sufficiently known, that the whole of the Roman Liturgy, the\nentire Breviary, the whole of the Missal, except the few parts which the\ncelebrant himself recites in an undertone of voice at the altar, has\nits proper notation in music, which every efficient choir-singer and\ncelebrant priest is required to know, as the necessary accompaniment of\nhis functions.\n\nThe authority, therefore, of the Ritual chant is to a considerable\nextent identified with that of the Ritual itself in the character of\nthe authorized form of its solemn celebration. No other music has been\nat any time published by the church. No other is co-extensive with the\nRitual; and the use, therefore, of any other, however permissible it may\nhave become through force of circumstances, can only be regarded as a\ndeviation from perfect Ritual rule.\n\nThat such was the view of the fathers of the Council of Trent is evident\nfrom the fact, that they seriously debated whether it might not be\nadvisable to put an end to the scandalous musical excesses that had\nfound their way into the church through the partial abandonment of the\nRitual chant, by rendering it henceforth imperative. But though this\nmeasure was vehemently urged by more than one father as the best remedy\nfor the evil complained of, still the father of the council at length\ndeclined to pass the decree. They seemed to have judged it to be on the\nwhole wiser to leave the Ritual chant to its claims as the acknowledged\nand authorized song of the Liturgy, and to have thought that the remedy\nrequired was rather to be sought for in prayer to God to give his people\na better and more sober mind than in a severe and peremptory legislation,\nwhich might end in provoking the further and worse evil of a more formal\nand open disobedience.\n\nBut to return to the subject of the positive ecclesiastical authority of\nthe Ritual chant-books. The truth and the reason of this authority appear\nat once, on reflecting how impossible it is that a kingdom directed by\nthe Spirit of God, under the government of a divinely founded hierarchy,\nshould employ sacred song to the extent which the Catholic Church does,\nwithout a sanctioned and authenticated form of it. That this form should\nbe absolutely imperative, to the rigid exclusion of every other, could\noccur to no one to maintain. But still, without an acknowledged body and\nform of song, of such indisputable authority as to claim the willing\nconfidence of those whose calling is with sacred song, its efficacy is\ncertainly lamed and its mission impeded. Men that have work to do in\nGod\u2019s vineyard require to know not merely the general truth that what\nthey are engaged with is in the main good, but they also desire to know\nthat the blessing of God is with the manner of their work, and the means\nthey employ. Now, such confidence nothing but an authorized body of song\ncan supply.\n\nFor what reason do we trust the church in her definitions of faith?\nBecause we feel our own weakness; because we feel how impossible it is\nfor the mind to repose on its own conclusions. We know, from a voice that\nspeaks from within the heart, that our heavenly Father could not have\ngiven a revelation without the conditions necessary to fit it to meet our\nwants. And because we feel the need of a positive authority in matters of\nfaith, we believe it to have been given, and that the Catholic Church is\nthe depository of it, as alone possessing the satisfactory credentials.\nNow, although it may be true that an equal need for a positive authority\nin matters of song cannot be asserted, yet if ecclesiastical music do\nreally possess those many healing virtues which at once betoken its\ndivine origin and heavenly mission, it may be asked, is it a wise, is it\na self-distrusting, is it a pious course for each individual to imagine\nhimself free from such an authority? Is it not rather true that, in\nproportion as his sense of the heavenly mission of the ecclesiastical\nchant deepens, the more vivid will become his perception of the need of\nan express living authority to which the individual can commit himself,\nin perfect confidence that that song which a divinely directed hierarchy\nshall put forth and acknowledge as their own work, will be sure to carry\nalong with it the blessing of God upon its use.\n\nI do not see how a reasonable person can refuse to admit that such is\nthe positive authority attaching to the liturgical song-books, and\nthat it is to the devout and skilful use of these books by her own\npriests, cantors, and devout people, that the church mainly looks for the\nfulfilment of the divine idea with respect to sacred music. How otherwise\nwill you account for their existence? to what purpose has the wisdom of\nsaints who contributed and collected their contents been exerted? Why\nhas the church not let the Gregorian system of music alone, as she has\nthe modern? why has she formed a complete system and body of song in the\none, and not in the other, if her work, when complete, has no positive\nauthority? Or will the advocate of modern art say, that this her work is\ndefective and superannuated; and that it is time it should be locked up,\nout of the way, in collections of antiquities, and cease to be an offence\nto ears polite? Yet, if such be the case, an abrogation is not to be\npresumed; it must be proved. But the fact is, that the Council of Trent\ncaused the song-books to be reissued, and directed the ecclesiastical\nchant to be taught in the seminaries of the clergy.[139] And when those\nvery canonized saints, of whose conditional approbation of the use of\nmodern art so very much is made, came to the dignity of obtaining a\nrecord in the church\u2019s song of her warriors departed, here was surely a\nfit occasion, if, indeed the church had abandoned her former song, and\ndisembarrassed herself of its defective scale and wearisome monotony, to\ncall for the charms of modern art, that at least it might be identified\nwith its votaries. Yet with this very natural supposition contrast the\nfact that the Ritual chant and its singers continue year by year to hand\non the memory of the virtues of S. Philip Neri and S. Charles Borromeo;\nwhile for these, its supposed patrons, modern art has not even a little\nmemorial. To the Ritual song it leaves what would seem to be to itself\nthe unwelcome task of keeping up the record of their sanctity and their\nexample.\n\nNor do I see to what purpose a reference can be made to the anecdote of\nPope Marcellus\u2019 approbation of Palestrina\u2019s composition, since named\n_Missa Pap\u00e6 Marcelli_, with the view to establish an authority for the\nsystem of modern music; for the idea of deviation from the order of the\nRitual chant once admitted to toleration, nothing can be more natural\nthan that a pontiff, equally with any other person, might come to express\nhis very high commendation of a particular composition. And if we allow\nthat such a commendation is not without its weight, it would surely be a\nviolent inference, singularly betraying the absence of better argument,\nif an instance of such approbation of a particular work were to be\nclaimed as an _ex cathedra_ legislative authorization of a whole system\nof music to which it cannot be said to belong.[140] For it should not\nbe forgotten that Palestrina\u2019s music is essentially different from the\nexisting system of modern art, inasmuch as his works are either mere\nharmonies upon the _Canto Fermo_, or else consist of themes borrowed\nfrom it, which frequently preserve that distinct tonality of the modes of\nthe ecclesiastical chant which modern art has quite abandoned.\n\nIt has been objected, \u201cthat an assertion that the church does not\nauthorize the use of modern harmony, because she has not herself\nfurnished her children with any individual compositions, is about as\nreasonable a conclusion as the notion that she does not authorize and\nsanction sermons, because their composition is left to the judgment,\ngood or bad, of private clergymen.\u201d But the objection fails, as there\nis a total want of parity between the office of singer and preacher.\nThe preacher passes through a long course of training to the state of\npriesthood, before he receives a license to preach; and every person\nin the church who has the license to preach, is to be presumed to be\nduly qualified both to make known the divine law and recommend it by\nhis words and example. This is not the case with the singer, who is not\nnecessarily even in the minor orders, and whose duty is merely to sing\nwhat is placed before him correctly and with feeling. If the education\nof the priests were left to the same hazard and caprice that would seem\nto be desired for the choice of music for the church, it is easy to\nimagine the result. But very far from this, the most thoughtful care is\nbestowed by the church on the training of her future ministers: obliged\nto fixed and unalterable dogmas of the faith, versed in one sacred\nvolume, bound to one uniform office of daily prayer and pious reading,\ntrained in an almost uniform system of studies and external discipline,\nthe preacher comes forth the living organ of a divine system, fitted to\nbe the spokesman of a kingdom that is endowed with the power of drawing\nits manifold materials to a concordant and coherent system, and moulding\nmultiform and varied minds to a unity of type and consistency of action.\n\u201cSuch was the strict subordination of the Catholic Church,\u201d says the\nhistorian Gibbon (_Hist._, ch. XX.), \u201cthat the same concerted sounds\nmight issue at once from a hundred pulpits of Italy or Egypt, if they\nwere tuned by the master hand of the Roman or Alexandrian primate.\u201d Carry\nthe same principle of system and order into the song of the church, and\nit will be found impossible to stop short of the Ritual chant-books.\n\n2. With regard to the moral authority of the chant: moral authority, in\nthe legislation of the church, is ever a necessary companion of any act\nof her legislative authority. We should not, however, overlook what seems\nto be a distinct element of moral authority, in the historical connection\nof the Ritual chant with the generations now past and gone to their rest.\nIt was their song, the song of saints long ago departed. It is the song\nwhich S. Augustine sang, and which drew forth his tears: \u201cQuantum flevi\nin hymnis et canticis, suave sonantis ecclesi\u00e6 tu\u00e6 vocibus commotus\nacriter; voces ill\u00e6 influebant auribus meis, et eliquebatur veritas tua\nin cor meum, et ex ea \u00e6stuabat. Inde affectus pietatis, et currebant\nlacrym\u00e6, et bene mihi erat cum illis\u201d--\u201cHow often have these sacred hymns\nand songs moved me to tears, as I have been carried away with the sweetly\nmusical voices of thy church. How these sounds used to steal upon my ear,\nand thy truth to pour itself into my heart, which felt as if it were set\non fire! Then would come tender feelings of devotion, my tears would\nflow, and I felt that all was then well with me\u201d (_Confess._ lib. vi.\ncap. 6). It was the song of S. Augustine, the apostle of Saxon England,\nof S. Stephen the Cistercian, and of all the holy warriors of our Isle\nof Saints. Nor is it only the song which the saints sang, but it is the\nsong that sings of the saints--the only song which cares to pour the\nsweet odor of their memory over the year, or to spread around them its\nmelodious incense, as they too surround the throne of their Lord and King.\n\nAgain: a moral authority attaches to the Roman Ritual chant in the\nvery name _Gregorian_, by which it is so generally known. S. Gregory\nwas the first to collect it from the floating tradition in which it\nexisted in the church, and to digest it into that body of annual song\nfor the celebration of the Ritual which has come down to us. This work\ncame to be called after him, _Cantus Gregorianus_, and forms at this\nday the substance of the Roman chant-books, enriched and added to by\nthe new offices and Masses that have since then been incorporated in\nthe Ritual. Nothing is known with any positive historical certainty as\nto the authorship of the several pieces in the song-books; but as to\nthe main fact, that the music of the Ritual is the work of the greatest\nsaints of the church--of the Popes Leo, Damasus, Gelasius, and S. Gregory\nhimself--of many holy monks in the retirement of their cloisters--history\nleaves no doubt. This fact, then, is beyond dispute: that the Roman\nRitual chant, which the present inquiry concerns, is the creation of the\nsaints of the Roman Church, for the decorum and solemnity of the public\ncelebration of the Liturgy.\n\nAnd now, to come to the comparison: if to the adequate realization of\nthe divine idea of sacred song, as an instrument placed at the disposal\nof the church, to aid in carrying out her work of sanctification and\ninstruction, the notion of a definite authority, both defining what\nit should be, and prescribing and regulating the manner of its use,\nnecessarily belongs, the conclusion I think is that this authority is\nfound attaching itself to the Ritual chant; and, from the nature of the\ncase, it is incapable of attaching itself to the works of modern music.\nFirst, because it would seem to be an inseparable principle as regards\ntheir use, that every individual must be at liberty to ask for or to\ndemand their employment according to his own pleasure; and secondly,\nbecause a positive authority can attach to that alone which exists in a\ndefinite and tangible shape, which is far from being the case with the\nworks of modern music. They not only do not form a definite collection,\nbut, such as they are, are subject to perpetual change--that which is on\nthe surface to-day and admired, being to-morrow nauseated and condemned;\nand hence there is no resting point whatever in them for the idea of a\npositive authority.\n\nAnd as regards the comparison on the score of moral authority, the\nattempt to draw it will, I fear, touch upon delicate ground; for, to\nconfess the honest truth, it cannot be drawn without bringing to light\nthe degeneracy of our popular ideas respecting sacred music. Who is\nthere who seriously thinks of claiming for the works of modern music\nany connection with the saints, past or present? or who is there who\neither cares to ask for, or to attribute any character of sanctity to\nits authors? or would even be likely to think very much the more highly\nof the music if the fact of its saintly origin could be established? And\nwhat kind of persons, for the most part, have its authors been? Mozart\ndied rejecting the last sacraments; Beethoven is supposed by his German\nbiographer, Schindler, to have been a pantheist during the greater part\nof his life; Rink was a Protestant; Mendelssohn a Jew, who cared very\nlittle for his Jewish faith; and the different _maestri di capella_ who\nhave been throughout Europe the chief composers of these works, were, for\nthe most part, also the directors of the theatres and opera-houses of\ntheir royal patrons.\n\nBut enough has been said to make it evident upon how different a footing\nthe chant of the Ritual and the works of modern art respectively stand,\nas regards moral and ecclesiastical authority.\n\n\nRESPECTIVE CLAIM TO THE COMPLETENESS AND ORDER OF A SYSTEM.\n\nThe idea of a God Incarnate, manifesting himself in the nature of man on\nearth, necessarily contains the idea of a system and order displayed in\nhis works. All apparent system, it is true, does not necessarily imply\nGod as its author; but absence of system and its consequence, positive\nconfusion and disorder, is undeniably a sign that the mind of the\nAlmighty is not there. If, then, the Catholic Church be the kingdom of\nGod Incarnate, and the abiding-place of his Spirit, it follows that her\nsong is a _system_, if God is at all to acknowledge it in any respect of\nhis own. But the idea of system leads at once to the Ritual song-books.\nModern art has not as yet furnished even the necessary materials out\nof which to construct a system, not to speak of the hopelessness of\nforming one, when the materials should exist. Do but remove the Ritual\nchant from the church, and you remove a wonderful and perfect system,\nwhich an order-loving mind takes pleasure in contemplating--one that\nmoves with the ecclesiastical year, that accompanies the Redeemer\nfrom the annunciation of his advent, the Ave Maria of his coming in\nthe flesh, to his birth, his circumcision, his manifestation to the\nGentiles, his presentation and discourse with the learned doctors in\nthe Temple, his miraculous fast in the companionship of the wild beasts\nin the wilderness, his last entry into his own city, his betrayal,\nhis institution of the Holy Eucharist, his agony in the garden, his\ndeath upon the cross, his resurrection from the dead, his ascension\ninto heaven--a system of song which places around him, as jewels in a\ncrown, his chosen and sainted servants, as the stars which God set in\nthe firmament of heaven to give light upon the earth. _C\u0153li enarrant\ngloriam Dei, et opera manuum ejus annuntiat firmamentum_--\u201cThe heavens\ndeclare the glory of God, and the firmament showeth his handiwork\u201d (Ps.\nxviii.) Yet if we saw the heavens only in the way in which we are treated\nto the performances of modern music, the greater and the lesser light\noccasionally changing places, after the manner of the vicissitudes of\nMozart and Haydn, the planets moving out of their orbits in indeterminate\nsuccession, at the caprice of some archangel, as the organist changes\nhis motets and introits, the Psalmist would hardly have spoken of the\n\u201c_firmament showing God\u2019s handiwork_.\u201d Where is there a trace of order\nand system in the use of the works of modern art? Where is the musician\nwho regards \u201cduplex,\u201d \u201csemiduplex,\u201d or \u201csimplex\u201d? Mozart in one church,\nHaydn in another, Beethoven in a third, and a host of others whose name\nis Legion, taken like lots from a bag, as whim or fancy may at the moment\ndirect, like the chaos described by the poet, where\n\n    \u201cCallida cum frigidis pugnant, humentia siccis,\n    Mollia cum duris, sine pondere habentia pondus.\u201d\n\n    --_Ovid, Metam._\n\nBut to approach the comparison. If in the divine idea of the Christian\nsong there is necessarily contained the notion of a working and efficient\nsystem, the simple truth is, that there is no such system, either in the\nworks of modern music themselves, or in the manner of their use. On the\none side is the important fact, that the modern art of music leaves the\nvastly larger portion of the Ritual without any music at all, embracing\npositively not more than its merest fraction; on the other, the equally\ngreat fact of a total absence of any thing like rule to determine their\nselection. As a working system, then, full and complete in all its\npoints, the Ritual chant stands alone the only realization of that part\nof the divine idea which contemplates order and system in the use of\nChristian song.\n\n\nRESPECTIVE MORAL FITNESS: I. AS A SACRIFICIAL SONG; II. AS A SONG FOR THE\nOFFICES OF THE CHURCH.\n\nI. _As a Sacrificial Song._\n\nIt has been already remarked that ecclesiastical song is not everything\nor anything that is beautiful in music, nor merely a work of art. It\nis, strictly speaking, a sacrificial chant, the song of those engaged\nin offering sacrifice to God, _Tibi sacrificabo hostiam laudis_. Such\na song is obviously not any kind of song, but one that possesses a\nmoral type and character, rendering it a fit companion for the holy and\nbloodless victim offered on the Christian altar; becoming an offering,\noffered not to man, but to the ears of the Most High, and akin to the\nsolemnity of its subject--redemption from sin and death through the blood\nand sufferings of a sinless victim, the crucified Son of God. The divine\nidea may then, I think, be said to contemplate sacred song as possessing\na sacrificial character.\n\nAnd the reason, if required, will appear, on considering to how great\nan extent music possesses the remarkable gift of absorbing and becoming\npossessed with an idea. When song has been successfully united to\nlanguage, the ideas contained in the latter are found to take possession\nof the music, and to form the sound or tune into an image and reflection\nof themselves, in a manner almost analogous to the way in which the mind\nwithin moulds the outward features of the face, so as to make them an\nindex and expression of itself. What I mean by this alleged power of\nmusic to absorb, and afterwards to express, ideas, even those the most\nopposite to each other, may be exemplified, if an instance be wanted,\nby contrasting any popular melody from the Roman Gradual, as the _Dies\nIr\u00e6_, or the _Stabat Mater_, with one of our popular street tunes,\n\u201cCherry ripe,\u201d or \u201cJim Crow\u201d; and it will be seen at once, on humming\nover these tunes, with what perfect truth and to how great an extent\nmusic is able to ally itself to the most opposite ideas, and how, through\nthe ear, it has the power, not merely to convey them to the mind, but to\nleave them there, firmly and vividly impressed. If, then, by virtue of\nthis power, music may, on the one hand, become the channel of the most\nexquisite profaneness in divine worship, so it certainly may, on the\nother, contribute wonderfully to its majesty and power of attraction.\nAnd since the music of the field of battle, the military march, and the\nroll of the drum, has a character not shared by other kinds, as the song\nof the banquet, and of the dance, of the drunkard over his cups, of\nthe peasant at his plough, of the sailor at sea, of the village maiden\nat her home, have each their own stamp and form: so also in the song\nof Christian worship, God will regard it as the song of men offering\nsacrifice to himself, as having a character inherent in its subject--the\nlife, sufferings, and death of him who died to take away the sins of the\nworld--in a word, as a sacrificial chant.\n\nNow that a sacrificial chant has in all ages accompanied the offering\nof sacrifice, is a truth to which history, if examined, will be found\nto bear abundant testimony. In the sacrifice described by Virgil in the\n\u00c6neid,\n\n            \u201cpueri innupt\u00e6que puell\u00e6\n    Sacra canunt.\u201d\n\nWhen, at the command of Nehemias, on the return of the captive Jews\nfrom Babylon, sacrifice was solemnly offered after their custom in\nJerusalem, the priests, it is said (2 Machab. i. 30), _sang psalms until\nthe burnt-offering was wholly consumed_. Nor is it the whole truth to\nsay that this sacrificial chant has passed over in its more perfect\nreality to the Christian Church, but even in the Song of Heaven among the\nredeemed, the sacrificial character still continues, a point well worthy\nof the notice of those who are so confident that the type of the modern\nmusic is alone that which is found in heaven. \u201cAnd they [the twenty-four\nancients] sang a new song, saying, Thou art worthy to take the book and\nopen the seals thereof, for thou wast slain, and hast redeemed us to God\nby thy blood, out of every kindred, and tongue, and people, and nation.\u201d\n\nIf, then, the ideas which suggest themselves and arise naturally on\nreflecting upon what, in the nature of things, would be the type and\ncharacter of the Christian sacrificial chant; if these ideas find\nthemselves absorbed, then expressed, embodied, and brought out into life\nand being in the music of the ecclesiastical chant; and if, on the other\nhand, they are not to be found in the variety of modern compositions\nsuch as are now in partial use;[141] if it be possible to conceive our\nLord\u2019s apostles, upon the supposition that they could return to the\nearth, standing up in any church of Christendom to sing the song of the\nRitual in honor of the Holy Sacrifice, and in company with the celebrant\npriest;[142] and if there be something obviously unbecoming in the mere\nthought of their taking bass or tenor in such music as that of Mozart\u2019s\nor Haydn\u2019s masses, neither of which will be denied; then, I think, it\nis not extravagant to infer that the Plain Chant of the Ritual is far\nthe most adequate fulfilment of that part of the divine idea which\ncontemplates Christian music as a sacrificial song.\n\n\nII. _Fitness for the Offices of the Church._\n\nWith regard to the fitness of the ecclesiastical chant for the offices of\nthe church, it must be remarked, that the ideas of the modern musician\ntouching the use of music in the church are very widely removed from\nthose of the fathers of the church. In their idea, a church-singer would\nsomewhat answer to what would be a ballad-singer in the world, inasmuch\nas he has a great deal to convey to his hearers in the way of narrative.\nAlmighty God has been pleased to work many wonderful works, and the\nfathers of the church appointed singers for the churches, to celebrate\nthese works in song, in order that the people who came to worship, or\neven the heathens who came as spectators, might hear and learn something\nof the works of the Lord Jehovah, into whose house they had come.\nWhat can be more reasonable than this? \u201c_My song shall be of all thy\nmarvellous works_,\u201d says the Psalmist. But, according to the notions of\na modern musician, if a Brahmin priest, or the Turkish ambassador, were\nto come to Mass, and to hear a choral performance, in which the concord\nof voices should be most ravishingly beautiful, but in which not a single\none of the marvellous works of God could be understood from the concert,\nhe is still to consider that he has heard the perfection of Christian\nmusic, and ought, according to them, to go away converted. Out of two so\ncontradictory notions one must necessarily be chosen as the one which\nbest answers to the divine idea. And if persons are prepared to say that\nthe ideas of the fathers are become antiquated, and that they would have\nacted differently had they known better, they are certainly called upon\nto make this good.\n\nBut, in the meantime, it will be both reasonable and pious to acquiesce\nin the belief that the fathers acted in conformity with the divine idea,\nand under the direction of God\u2019s Holy Spirit, in appointing a song for\nthe church, in which the marvellous and merciful works of God might be\nset forth in a charming, becoming, and perfectly intelligible manner,\nfor the instruction of the people. A serious person, when he goes into\nthe house of God, is supposed to go there with the intention of learning\nsomething respecting God, and it is to be supposed that Almighty God\ndesires to see every church in such a condition as that the people\nwho frequent it may learn all that they need to know respecting God\nand his works. To this use the fathers employed chant, and considered\nthat it was, by the will of God, to be employed to this end. If any\ncandid and serious person will take the trouble to examine the language\nand sentiments of the Ritual apart from its musical notation, he will\nbe struck with it as a complete manual of popular theology. He will\nsee that it is full of the works of God, the knowledge of which is\nthe food of the faithful soul, particularly among the poor and the\nunlearned. Next let him examine its notation in song, as contained in\nthe Gradual and Antiphonary, and he will be struck with a solemnity,\nbeauty, and force of melody fitted to convey to the people the words of\ninspiration, to which melody was annexed in order that they might be\nthe better relished, and pass current the more easily. And lastly, let\nhim consider them, in both these respects, as forming one united whole,\nand he cannot refuse to acknowledge the fitness of the chant which the\nfathers selected for the purpose they had in view. Musicians must be\nequitable enough to abstain from complaining of a work on the score of\nits unisonous recitative character, if they will not be at the pains to\nunderstand or to sympathize with the end for which it was formed and\ndestined. Have the fathers ever troubled themselves to criticise what was\ninnocent and allowable in the world\u2019s music? Then why should musicians\ngo out of the way to find imaginary faults with that of which they seem\nindisposed to consider either the use or the efficacy? The church chant\nwas framed generations before they and their art were known; and it has\nhelped to train up whole nations in the faith, and fulfilled its end to\nthe unbounded satisfaction of the fathers, who adopted, enlarged, and\nconsolidated it into the form in which it has come down to us, and may\ntherefore claim a truce to such criticism.\n\nBut here, again, the comparison fails for want of a competitor, and\nwe are again brought back to the fact that the works of modern art\nembrace too small a fraction of the whole Liturgy to be in a condition to\nchallenge any comparison. And could the comparison be admitted, it would\nstill remain to insist on the equally certain truth of experience that\nthe idea of a lengthened and continual recitation of the works of God,\nintended to be popularly intelligible, is one unsuited to the employment\non any great scale of even the simplest counterpoint vocal harmonies,\nand fundamentally averse to the prevailing use of the canon and fugue of\nmodern musical science.\n\n\nRESPECTIVE FITNESS TO PASS AMONG THE PEOPLE AS A CONGREGATIONAL SONG.\n\nUpon this point of the comparison the result, I think, will be tolerably\nobvious, if it be admitted that the divine idea contemplates the chant\nof the church as designed to pass to some considerable extent among the\npeople in the form of congregational singing. It will not, however, be\nout of place to show briefly on what grounds this assumption rests.\n\n1. Almighty God has created in people a strong love for congregational\npsalmody, and has attached to it peculiar feelings possessed of an\ninfluence far more powerful for good than the somewhat isolated pleasure\nthat the musician feels on hearing beautiful artificial music, inasmuch\nas congregational singing is a common voice of prayer and praise; and\nbeing, as Christians, members one of another, in congregational psalmody\nwe gain a foretaste of heaven, where it will be far more perfect.\n\n2. There are obvious benefits arising from it. It is an union of prayer\nand praise, and as such is more powerful with God. It kindles in the\nindividual a livelier sense of Christian fellowship. It is a voice that\nexpresses the union of the many members in the one body; many voices, one\nsound.\n\n3. The argument from history. The worship of God has always been that of\ncongregational psalmody; and where trained choirs of singers existed,\ntheir song was always such as to admit of the people at times taking\npart with them. This is an undeniable fact of history. \u201cThen sang _Moses\nand the children of Israel_ this song unto the Lord\u201d (Exodus xv.) \u201cThen\n_sang Israel_ this song, Spring up, O well, sing ye unto it, etc.\u201d\n(Numbers xxi. 17). The psalm CXXXV. was composed for the people to sing\nthe chorus. The Book of Psalms is a kind of historical testimony, in many\nof its passages, to the fact of that congregational song to which it so\noften exhorts. Fleury, in his _History of the Manners of the Jews and\nChristians_ (page 143), acknowledges congregational song as a fact among\nboth. He cites the testimony of S. Basil, that all the people in his time\nsang in the churches--men, women, and children--and he compares their\nvoices to the waters of the sea. S. Gregory of Nazianzen compares them to\nthunder. But it is impossible to conceive such to have been the practice\nboth of Jews and Christians, without inferring that it was so with the\napprobation of Almighty God.\n\n4. The apostles and the fathers of the church have sanctioned it.\n\u201cTeaching and admonishing yourselves in psalms and hymns and spiritual\nsongs, singing with melody in your hearts unto the Lord\u201d (Col. iii. 16).\n\n\u201cWherefore, since these things are so, let us with the more confidence\ngive ourselves to the work of song, considering that we have obtained a\ngreat grace of Almighty God, to whom it has been given, in company with\nso many and so great saints, the prophets, and the martyrs, to celebrate\nthe marvellous works of the eternal God.\u201d--_An old author in the first\nvolume of Gerbert\u2019s Scriptores Musici._\n\n\u201cQuocunque te vertis, arator stivam tenens Alleluia decantat, sudans\nmessor Psalmis se evocat, et curva attollens vitem falce vinator\naliquid Davidicum cantat. H\u00e6c sunt in provincia nostra carmina, h\u00e6c\nut vulgo dicitur amatori\u00e6 cantationes, hic pastorum sibilus, h\u00e6c arma\ncultur\u00e6.\u201d--\u201cWherever you turn, the laborer at his plough sings an\nalleluia; the reaper sweating under his work refreshes himself with a\npsalm: the vinedresser in his vineyard will sing a passage from the\nPsalmist. These are the songs of our part of the world. These are, as\npeople say, our love-songs. This is the piping of our shepherds, and\nthese are the arms of our laborers.\u201d--_S. Jerome, Epist. 17 ad Marcellum._\n\n\u201cAlas!\u201d observes Mgr. Parisis, upon this passage of S. Jerome, \u201cwhere are\nnow the families who seek to enliven the often dangerous leisure of long\nwinter\u2019s evenings with the songs of the Catholic Liturgy; where are the\nworkshops in which an accent may be heard borrowed from the remembrance\nof our divine offices; where are the country parishes which are edified\nand rejoiced by the sweet and pious sounds which in the times of S.\nJerome echoed through the fields and vineyards?\u201d[143]\n\nS. Augustine: \u201cAs for congregational psalmody, what better employment can\nthere be for a congregation of people met together, what more beneficial\nto themselves, or more holy and well-pleasing to God, I am wholly unable\nto conceive?\u201d--_Letter to Januarius, towards the end._\n\nA passage of S. Chrysostom, exhorting the people to psalmody, will be\nfound elsewhere. It is unnecessary to do more than to refer to the\nexample of S. Basil and S. Ambrose, encouraging their people in the same\nmanner; to which may be added a passage from the life of S. Germanus:\n\n    \u201cPontificis monitis, psallit plebs, clerus et infans.\u201d\n\n                                            _Venantius, vita S. Germani._\n\nLastly, the _moral_ reason of the thing.\n\nThis is expressed by S. Basil in the words: \u201cO wonderful wisdom of the\nteacher! who hath contrived that we _should both sing_, and therewith\nlearn that which is good.\u201d\n\nNow, if it be considered that Providence could not possibly have meant\nthat the people at large should be formed into singing classes, in order\nto be initiated into the mysteries of minim and crotchet, tenor and bass,\nand that the _one_ only practical means of bringing them to pick up by\near the more popular parts of the church chant is by encouraging, as the\nsystem of the Ritual chant does, that clear enunciation of language and\nmelody which easily fixes itself upon the ear, and which the prevalence\nof unison singing gives;[144] it follows at once that the only hope of\nprocuring general congregational singing in the worship of the Catholic\nChurch lies in the increased use and zealous propagation of the unison\nexecution of the Ritual chant. Experience is clear to the point that the\nuse of the works of modern art, with their rapid movements, elaborate\nfugues, scientific combinations of sound, necessarily tends to stifle the\nvoices of the people, and this is certainly not the will of our merciful\nGod.\n\nNow, if this be the case, I do not see how we are to avoid the\nconclusion, that any extensive use of these works of modern art tends\nto the clear frustration and the making void one great and important\npopular end, viz., congregational singing, which the divine idea\ncontemplates in the song of the church, and which, in the song of the\nRitual, is efficiently realized, as the history of the progress of the\nfaith abundantly testifies. Might it not, then, be well that those who\nadvocate the continued cultivation of these elaborate works of art should\nconsider the full meaning of Mardocheus\u2019 prayer, _Ne claudas ora te\ncanentium_: \u201cShut not the mouth of them that sing thy praise, O Lord\u201d\n(Esther xiii. 17).\n\n\nRESPECTIVE MORAL INFLUENCE IN THE FORMATION OF CHARACTER.\n\nThe influence upon the mind of sounds that habitually surround the ear\nis a fact well known to all moralists. \u201cWhosoever,\u201d says Plato, in\nhis treatise _De Republic\u00e2_, quoted by Gerbert, \u201cis in the habit of\npermitting himself to listen habitually to music, and to allow his mind\nto be engaged and soothed by it, pouring in the sweet sounds before\nalluded to through the ears, as through an orifice, soft, soothing,\nluscious, and plaintive, consuming his life in tunes that fascinate\nhis soul; when he does this to an excess, he then begins to weaken,\nto unstring, and to enervate his understanding, until he loses his\ncourage, and roots all vigor out of the mind.\u201d Cicero observes, \u201cNihil\ntam facile in animos teneros atque molles influere quam varios canendi\nsonos, quorum vix dici potest quanta sit vis in utramque partem; namque\net incitat languentes, et languefacit excitatos, et tum remittit animos,\ntum contrahit\u201d (lib. ii. _De Legibus_). These remarks seem very much to\nhave their exemplification at this day in the effeminate tone and temper\nof polished society in all the nations of Europe, who seem to be befooled\nwith their love for pretty airs and opera music. Now, if the fathers,\nobserving this power of music insensibly to mould and form the character,\nand acting, as it is more than pious to believe, under the guidance of\nthe Holy Spirit, that his divine intention might be fulfilled, designed\nthe song of the church to form a character very different from that\nof the musical voluptuary--one who was to be no cowardly skulker from\nthe good fight of faith, but the soldier of Jesus Christ, the disciple\npatiently taking up his cross and following his crucified Master--those\nwho do not participate in these ideas ought not to wonder that they\nfind so little in the church chant with which they can sympathize; but\nabove all let them at least have the modesty not to blame the fathers of\nthe church for adapting it, after their wisdom, to a purpose the need\nfor which they do not comprehend. The historian Fleury has a pertinent\nremark: \u201cJe laisse \u00e0 ceux qui sont savants en musique \u00e0 examiner si dans\nnotre Plain Chant il reste encore quelque trace de cette antiquit\u00e9 [he is\nspeaking of the force of character of the old chant]; car notre musique\nmoderne semble en \u00eatre fort eloign\u00e9e\u201d (Fleury, _M\u0153urs des Chr\u00e9tiens_,\npage xliii.)--\u201cI leave to those who are versed in music to determine\nwhether there remain any traces of this ancient vigor in our Plain Chant;\nfor our modern music seems very far from it.\u201d\n\nIs it a thing to be wondered at if the Christian Israel\u2019s Song of the\nCross should have in it something a little strange to the ear of Babylon?\nOr are we to content ourselves with the conclusion that nothing but what\nis dainty and nice, nothing but that which is as nearly like the world\nas possible, will go down with Christian people? On the contrary, is\nit not to be presumed that the multitudes, with whom, in the main, the\nChristian teacher\u2019s duty lies, are of that sickly, degenerate tone of\nmind that nauseates the strong, peculiar, and supplicating energy of the\necclesiastical chant?\n\nBut on this point the comparison may be drawn in the words of Mgr.\nParisis:\n\n\u201cExternal to the Ritual chant, that is to say, the Gregorian, or Plain\nChant, little else is now known except the works of modern music, that\nis to say, a music essentially favoring what people have agreed to call\n_sensualism_. It is this, almost exclusively this, which, under the\naustere title of sacred music, is sought to be introduced into our sacred\noffices. Now, without desiring to enter deeply into the matter, we need\nbut few words to point out how grievously it is misplaced.\n\n\u201cWorldly music agitates and seeks to agitate, because the world seeks\nits pleasure in stir and change. The church, on the contrary, seeks for\nmelodies that pray and incline to prayer. The church cannot wish for any\nothers, since her worship has no other object than prayer.\n\n\u201cIn vain will it be said that this is the work of one of the greatest\nmasters, that it is a scientific and a sublime composition; it may\nbe all this for the world--it is nothing at all of this for the\nchurch. And especially when this worldly music, by its thrilling\ncadences or impassioned character, leads directly to light ideas,\nsensual satisfactions, and dangerous recollections, it is not only a\ncontradiction in the house of God, but a formal scandal.\u201d (_Instruction\nPastorale_, p. 45)\n\nTO BE CONCLUDED NEXT MONTH.\n\n\nA LEGEND OF THE RHINE.\n\nIt is now many years since, during a summer ramble, I found myself at\nA----k, now nothing more than a hamlet in population, but retaining\ntraces of having once been a place of very considerable importance, and\nboasting of very remote antiquity. The remains of the wall are, indeed,\nlocally attributed to the Romans, probably because they are lofty and\nvery strong, and it is the habit of ignorant people to refer all great\nworks to that wonderful people. In this instance, however, tradition is\ncertainly wrong, as the walls bear unmistakable evidence of medi\u00e6val\norigin, being in parts much enriched with Gothic work.\n\nThe little town stands on a plateau enclosed between a bend of the Rhine\nand the steep bluff on which the ruins of an old castle stand perched,\nequally watching the little burgh below and the counterpart castle on the\nopposite side of the Rhine at its next bend.\n\nThe eagles that once lived in and sought their prey from that lofty nest\nhave long since crumbled into dust and have even passed from the memory\nof man, leaving for sole representatives the choughs and the crows, and\nperhaps a jolly old owl to keep up revelry at night.\n\nThe horses that those old knights rode must have been of a sure-footed\nbreed, for it is hard to conceive how any quadruped, save a goat, could\nhave mounted the path I scrambled up among the vines; but it is with the\nvillage and the village church that we have to do.\n\nWho built the Rhine churches?\n\nThey all, with a few exceptions, are strikingly alike; though varying in\nsize, number of towers, and many other particulars, they have mostly a\nstrict resemblance in general conception and detail. To cite an instance:\nThe cathedral at Coblentz might stand as the type of twenty others;\ninstead of being individual and standing out alone--an effort of genius\nlike Cologne, Strasbourg, Notre Dame, Ely, or Winchester--they have all\nthe same resemblance to one another that a little oak has to a big one.\n\nThe church at A----k was no exception. Cathedral it might almost be\ncalled from its great size; but there was no bishop there, and it was\nonly a parish church! With its three great towers, vast nave, long\naisles, and noble choir, it seemed as if it might well hold all the\npopulation for many miles around, and the extremely small congregation\nthat were present at the celebration of the High Mass that morning\nappeared ridiculously out of proportion. It was a high festival--the\nAnnunciation--it is therefore to be assumed that the bulk of the\npopulation were there, and the High Mass was at the somewhat early hour\nof half-past five!\n\nAfter the Mass was over, and the last peal of the organ had died away,\nand the patter of the last footstep been lost in the distance, as it\nstill wanted a considerable time to my breakfast hour, I strolled round\nthe great empty church. There seemed to be nothing of value in it. If\nit had ever possessed any of the treasures of art, they had probably\nperished or been carried away during the long wars that devastated the\ncountry after the period of the Reformation, for I found nothing worthy\nof notice. I had just concluded to leave the church when my eye was\narrested by what I took to be an accident which had happened to the\ncrucifix on one of the side altars. At first I supposed that it had\nreceived a blow which had nearly broken off the right arm of the figure.\nOn looking more closely I perceived that it was evidently of great\nage, and the arm I supposed to be broken stood out from the cross at a\nconsiderable angle, and hung about half way down the side, the nail by\nwhich it had once been attached still remaining in the hand.\n\nWhilst I was still wondering as to the nature of the accident which had\nbefallen the quaintly-carved crucifix a quiet and pleasant voice roused\nme from my revery.\n\n\u201cI see, sir, that you are examining our curious old crucifix!\u201d\n\nTurning round I recognized the old priest who had sung Mass, and\nencouraged by his amiable manner and address, I stated the matter I had\nbeen pondering over, and asked for an explanation.\n\n\u201cThere has been no accident,\u201d said he; \u201cthe distortion which you notice\nin the right arm has existed far beyond the memory of man.\n\n\u201cThe figure is carved out of some very hard wood, and all out of a single\nblock--there being no joining in any part of it.\u201d\n\nStill more astonished, I asked what could have been the motive of\nrepresenting the Saviour in so strange an attitude; the more, as the hole\nfor the nail still remaining in the hand was still to be seen plainly in\nthe wood, whilst the hand was in the position in which it would have been\nhad it just struck a blow.\n\n\u201cThat is a curious story, and is, in fact, the only legend I know of\nconnected with this church.\n\n\u201cThe crucifix is held in great reverence, and people come from great\ndistances to pray before it. As I see you are a stranger, perhaps you\nwill partake of an old man\u2019s breakfast, whilst you listen to him as he\nrelates the traditional story, which being connected with this church,\nwhere he has grown old, he regards as almost peculiarly his own. Besides,\nthe story is too long to be listened to either standing or fasting.\u201d\n\nThanking the good priest for his kind offer, I followed him into the\nlittle presbytery almost adjoining the church, where we were soon seated\non each side of a little table taking off the edge of our appetites with\neggs, coffee, and rolls.\n\nWhen we had somewhat appeased our craving, the good man commenced, saying:\n\n\u201cThe tradition of which I have to speak dates back a long way, and has\nat least so much of authenticity about it as attaches to the undoubted\nantiquity of the crucifix itself, and to the fact that, for many\ngenerations at least, no other account has been current.\n\n\u201cMy grandfather used to tell it to me when an infant on his knee, and\nsaid that he had heard it from his grandfather in the same way.\n\n\u201cIn which of the many wars which have scourged this unfortunate land\nsince the rebel monk Luther brought the curse of religious dissension\nupon it, the circumstances which I am about to relate occurred, I am\nunable to determine; for the traditions, which agree in all other points,\ndiffer on this.\n\n\u201cOn the whole I incline to the one which places these events during\nthe period of Gustavus Adolphus\u2019 invasion, and attribute them to the\nparticular band which was led by his lieutenant Oxenstiern, who certainly\ndid sack the place. This would place it at more than two hundred years\nago, and it certainly is not more recent.\n\n\u201cAt that period there lived in A----k a widow and her daughter. They were\nvery poor, belonging to the peasant class, and supported themselves in\nwinter by spinning; and when the spring came round, they would go off to\nthe steep mountain-sides, where they helped to dress the vines or gather\nthe vintage, according to the season.\n\n\u201cThey never went to distant vineyards, because the mother, having in her\nyouth met with a severe accident, was unable, from its effects, to walk\nfar. There was also another reason: for Gretchen, who was the prettiest\ngirl for many miles around, was also the best, and never failed, winter\nor summer, to hear Mass and to spend some time in prayer before that very\ncrucifix which has attracted your attention.\n\n\u201cThere was, no doubt, some older tradition about its origin, for it had a\ngreat reputation for sanctity even then; this tradition, whatever it may\nhave been, seems, however, to have been swallowed up by the overwhelming\ninterest of the subsequent event, which I am about to relate.\n\n\u201cAll accounts agree that when Gretchen first worshipped there the\ncrucifix had nothing unusual about it to distinguish it from any other,\nexcept its artistic merit.\n\n\u201cThe hand was then nailed to the cross. There, however, kneeling in front\nof it, wrapped in prayer, this young girl spent all the time she could\nspare from the humble duties of her life.\n\n\u201cShe milked the cow, the one valuable possession of her mother, who had\nthe right of common; she washed the clothes, cooked and did the work\nabout her mother\u2019s house, and acted as her crutch as she climbed the\nsteep paths of the vineyard--for, in spite of her lameness, she was a\nskilful vinedresser--in short, she was all in all to her only parent.\n\n\u201cWith all this labor and care Gretchen grew in grace and beauty; and\nthough so devout, she was as bright and cheerful and winning in her ways\nas the most worldly of her young companions.\n\n\u201cNever, however, could she be tempted to go to any of the merry-makings\nor harvest-homes or vintage feasts that were held at a distance; her\ninvariable answer was, \u2018My mother cannot walk so far.\u2019\n\n\u201cShe had many suitors; and admirers came from a great distance.\n\n\u201cTo all Gretchen was equally kind and considerate; but to none did she\nshow any sort of preference, so that all the youths for many miles on\nboth sides of the Rhine were pulling caps for her.\n\n\u201cThus things went on till she was nineteen, when, to the great surprise\nof all, she was seen to take up with and give a decided preference to the\nattentions of a young stranger who had been in the place only a few weeks.\n\n\u201cThe favored youth was a journeyman clockmaker from Nuremberg, who was\ngoing through his year of wandering, and was at the moment settled in the\ntown, working for the only tradesman in his line of business in the place.\n\n\u201cA----k was then much more populous, as you may well suppose, being able\nto support such a trade.\n\n\u201cThis youth, whose name was Gotliebe Hunning, was handsome and showy,\nwearing his hair in long locks down his back, and spending much of his\nearnings in dress. He sung, played the guitar, and was reputed wild,\nthough no harm could be alleged against him.\n\n\u201cThe old folks shook their heads, and deplored that so sweet and modest a\ngirl as Gretchen should be seen so much with a roisterer like Gotliebe.\n\n\u201cSomehow it had been no sin to sing and be gay like God\u2019s unreasoning\ncreatures before the sour times of Calvin, Huss, and Luther; but though\ntheir errors had not penetrated here to any great extent, something of\ntheir acid had been imparted to the leaven of life.\n\n\u201cSo things were, however, and all the time that Gretchen gave to\npleasure--which was little enough, poor child, for they were very poor\nand her mother was very helpless--she spent with this handsome, clever\nyouth; not that she abandoned her devotion, or was less frequently\nprostrated before the crucifix; for indeed, if possible, she was found\nthere more than ever. Still, the gossips shook their heads and remarked\nupon it.\n\n\u201cOne would say, \u2018Ah! I never trusted that meek manner of hers. I always\nknew she would surprise us some day, and here it is! It is always so with\nthe very good ones!\u2019 \u2018Ay, ay,\u2019 her neighbor would say, \u2018cat will after\ncream! And Eve has left her mark upon the best of them! The girl is a\ngirl like other young things; but I did hope better things of Gretchen,\nso well brought up as she has been!\u2019--thus they ran on.\n\n\u201cSoon, however, it began to be said that Gotliebe was sobering down; he\nfrequented the tavern less, never danced except with Gretchen, sang less\nand worked more.\n\n\u201cHe was admitted to be a master of his craft, and when it became known\nthat he was engaged in all his leisure hours in making a great clock--the\nvery one the chimes of which you were admiring--for the church, there\nwas less head-shaking, and more talk about Gretchen\u2019s luck in making so\ngreat a catch. Still he made no change in his showy dress, and indeed\nI think that genius, at least in art, often shows itself in that way,\nand tradition testifies that he was no mean proficient in the art he\npractised, of which indeed we still have proof every hour.\n\n\u201cThen it began to be observed that Gotliebe was frequently in the church\nwith Gretchen, and had become a regular attendant at Mass. Still, things\nwent on in the same way and no betrothal was spoken of, until, after the\nwar had again broken out and seemed to be drifting this way, it suddenly\nbecame known that Gretchen had consented to be married to Gotliebe\nwithout loss of time, and that he was to take a house and her mother was\nto move into it.\n\n\u201cIn this remote place, far from any of the great avenues of trade--for\nvessels usually passed it by, no great roads branching off here, and\nthere being no steamboats invented--news came doubtfully and seldom, and\nwar was at the very door at a moment when only distant rumors had reached\nA----k.\n\n\u201cHowever, to return to Gretchen and Gotliebe: You may be sure that what\ngoes on now went on then, and that all the busybodies were agog as to\nwhat they were to live upon; how she was to be dressed, and who were to\nbe the bridemaids; but as the world spins round in spite of the flies\nthat buzz about it, so they went their way regardless of all that was\nsaid about them.\n\n\u201cIn the meantime, the rumors grew more frequent and more particular\nconcerning the cloud of war which was every day drifting nearer and\nnearer, until the dark mass seemed ready at any moment to burst upon the\nunfortunate village itself.\n\n\u201cIndeed, news came from neighboring towns and villages that they had\nbeen taken and burned by the heretic Swedes, and tales, no doubt often\nexaggerated, of the violent and dissolute conduct of Oxenstiern\u2019s\ntroopers, kept every one in terror.\n\n\u201cAffairs were in this threatening condition when the wedding-morning\ncame; and, as the story was, though Gretchen had little to spend on\ndress, no art and no expense could have produced a lovelier bride than\nstood before the altar of the Crucifix that morning. She wore nothing but\na simple dress of white, and a wreath of apple-blossoms, for the trees\nwere just then in flower.\n\n\u201cThe wedding-bells were ringing, and the humble bridal-party had just\nreached the house which Gotliebe had taken, when cannon were heard, and a\nband of fierce Swedish soldiers rushed into the village.\n\n\u201cThe firing proceeded from an attack upon the castle, which still stands\nat about a mile from this place, and the invaders of the village were\narmy followers and a few of the more dissolute of Oxenstiern\u2019s soldiery,\nwho, encountering the bridal-party, at once interrupted its progress,\ntreating the bridemaids rudely; and one of them, who threw his arms\naround Gretchen, was immediately struck down by Gotliebe, who, as before\nsaid, was a spirited youth.\n\n\u201cOne of the invaders, without a moment\u2019s hesitation, struck him lifeless,\nand attempted to seize the bride, who, with a shriek, fled and took\nrefuge in the church.\n\n\u201cThither Gretchen was pursued by the band; and when after many hours\nthe troops were withdrawn, and the priest, with a few of the boldest of\nhis flock, ventured into the sacred edifice, they found the high altar\ndesecrated, the sacred vessels gone, and other sacrileges committed,\nwhich filled them with horror; but on turning to the altar of the\nCrucifix, they found the bride prostrate before it, either in a trance\nor ecstasy, with the soldier who had pursued her lying with his skull\nbroken, and his iron head-piece smashed in as though a sledge-hammer had\nstruck it, and the arm of the crucifix distorted as you see it now.\n\n\u201cOn being questioned, the young widow could only say: \u2018God has protected\nme!\u2019\n\n\u201cThe poor mother only lingered a day or two afterwards, and was borne to\nthe grave at the same time as the unfortunate Gotliebe.\n\n\u201cGretchen never knew, or would not say, more than I have repeated of what\nhad occurred at the altar of the Crucifix. It was unplundered!\n\n\u201cThe people, however, all said that God, who had borne the insults and\nprofanation directed against himself at the high altar, had interposed\nwhen the virtue of a pure virgin was threatened, and had himself, by\nthe hand of his image, smitten the would-be violator dead, leaving the\ndistorted arm as an admonition for ever.\u201d\n\nWe were both silent after this recital, and for some moments toyed with\nthe fragments of our breakfast.\n\nAt length, raising my head, I asked: \u201cAnd you, father--do you believe\nthis tale?\u201d\n\nA sweet, soft smile hovered about his lips, as he replied: \u201cNothing in\nwhich the goodness of God is instanced is hard for me to believe! He is\nless ready to show his anger, so that, though we live in the midst of his\nwonders, we have got so used to them that it is said that there are those\nwho deny his existence.\u201d\n\nThis was said as if to himself. Then, speaking more collectedly, he\ncontinued:\n\n\u201cYou English would rather believe in ghosts and devils than in the good\nGod. Whence do you suppose they derive their existence and their power?\u201d\n\nI assured him that I was of the same faith as himself, and only asked\nbecause I wished to have the opinion of a cultivated man on the subject\nof this particular legend, which had greatly interested me, and of which\nthere remained so singular an evidence.\n\nAfter a moment\u2019s pause, he said:\n\n\u201cThink of the facts yourself, sir. This tradition, which is certainly\nvery old, is either true in its main features or it was made to fit the\ncrucifix. Assume this last to be the case, how did so singular an image\ncome into existence? Made to hang the tradition upon? Scarcely in so\nsmall a community, where all must have known each other. Besides, it is a\nwork of art, and I have been told that as such it is of rare merit. Such\na work could hardly have been produced for an unworthy object, and would\nhave been difficult to substitute for one of inferior workmanship. If I\ncalled it a legend, it is because it has an air of romance about it. But\nGod is good, and does what he pleases!\u201d\n\nI had nothing more to say; so I asked what had become of Gretchen, and\nwas told that she had been taken as a lay sister in the small convent at\nthe head of the valley, whence she had continued, to the very day of her\ndeath, to come and pray at the foot of the crucifix, where in fact she\nwas at last found dead, in her eighty-seventh year, and that during the\nwhole time she had been regarded as a saint.\n\n\u201cThe altar,\u201d he resumed, \u201cis universally regarded with great reverence,\nand is always spoken of as the Altar of Succor to a very considerable\ndistance up and down the Rhine, and the unusual number of models in wax\nor wood which you see hanging before it indicate how special favors are\nreputed to have been granted there.\u201d\n\n\u201cI noticed them,\u201d I replied, \u201cwhen first I entered Belgium, where I saw\nmany. I was much struck with what I thought the singular idea of offering\na leg in wax to obtain the cure of lameness, an eye for blindness, and so\non.\u201d\n\n\u201cI perceive, sir,\u201d said the good priest, \u201cthat you have fallen into the\nerror of mistaking cause for effect. These models and tokens are in no\ncase hung before the altar until after the cure prayed for has been\neffected, when it is the pious custom of the people to commemorate the\nblessing they have received--much as one out of the ten lepers cured by\nour Lord did--by showing gratitude, that all may see what he has done for\nthem.\n\n\u201cSome of these emblems,\u201d continued he, \u201chave curious histories attached\nto them, whose events have occurred under my own eye.\n\n\u201cI will give you one instance only, not to be tedious.\n\n\u201cDid you notice a small bottle amongst the objects we speak of?\u201d\n\nI acknowledged that I had not done so, having paid little attention to\nthem.\n\n\u201cWell, there is one there at all events, which I myself attached to the\nbunch, under the following circumstances:\n\n\u201cSome years ago, two brothers, both young men, were leaving a wharf\nsome miles up the river, at twilight. The steamer having landed its\npassengers, was on the point of starting, when the elder of the two\nremonstrated with his brother upon the condition in which he found him;\nin fact, the youth was addicted to drinking, and gave much trouble to his\nelder brother, who was a remarkably steady young man. I will not mention\ntheir names, as both are living; but for convenience will call the elder\nFritz and the younger Carl.\n\n\u201cCarl was given to be quarrelsome in his cups, and on this occasion was\nmore so than usual, and began to struggle with his brother, who wanted to\nget him on board, as the boat was in the act of starting; in doing so,\nhowever, he lost his balance, and they fell into the water together.\n\n\u201cCarl, with the luck which is proverbially attributed to drunkards, was\nalmost immediately pulled out by those who had seen the accident. Fritz,\nhowever, appeared to have been carried away by the current, all search\nproving in vain.\n\n\u201cCarl, now completely sobered, was terribly afflicted, as he was deeply\nattached to his brother, and remembering the traditional sanctity of the\nAltar of Succor, he started off and walked all night, and, wet as he\nwas, threw himself at the foot of the altar. There he remained for some\nhours; whilst prostrate there, another man came in and knelt beside him.\n\n\u201cIt is always rather dark at that side altar, which, being situated in\nthe north aisle, was darker still at that hour of the morning.\n\n\u201cI had observed the prostrate man soon after the church had been opened\nin the morning. When next I passed I saw him prostrate still, with\nanother kneeling beside him.\n\n\u201cThinking there might be something wrong, I went up, and stooping, laid\nmy hand upon his shoulder; he was wet, and a shiver ran through him at\nmy touch. To my surprise I saw that there was a pool of water round the\nkneeling man.\n\n\u201cAt my touch the man raised himself, exclaiming, as he did so, \u2018Yes, I\ndid it; but I did not mean it! Take me if you will!\u2019\n\n\u201cBefore I could explain, the other rose to his feet, exclaiming, in a\nvoice of great emotion, \u2018Carl!\u2019 In an instant the brothers were in each\nother\u2019s arms, and explanations were made. It appears that Fritz went down\nat once, and, being unable to swim, was borne down for some distance\nunder water. On coming to the surface his head came in contact with some\nsubstance which he instinctively grasped; it was wood, and was large\nenough to enable him to keep his head above water. He drifted down the\ncurrent till, almost dead with cold, he found himself cast ashore at a\nbend of the river.\n\n\u201cHe was glad to find a cottage door open, where he was welcomed to warm\nhimself and to share the peasants\u2019 humble meal. There also he learned\nthat he was not far from A----k and the wonderful Altar of Succor, and\nat once resolved to come here, moved by gratitude for his escape, and\nanxiety for his brother, of whose fate he was of course ignorant.\n\n\u201cA year passed, and one morning Carl called upon me, and I then fully\nlearned the particulars I have just related.\n\n\u201cAt his request I attached the small bottle to the other tokens, in\ngratitude, as he said, for the victory there granted to him over the evil\nhabit which must, otherwise, have rendered his life a curse.\n\n\u201cHe also left a sum of money for the poor, and told me that his brother\nand himself were both married, and living as prosperous merchants at a\nconsiderable town lower down the Rhine.\n\n\u201cGo thou and do likewise!\u201d added the good priest, laughing as we shook\nhands at parting.\n\n\nWHY NOT?\n\n    I knelt before the altar-rail\n      One holy festal morning,\n    As to and fro the sexton moved,\n      The holy place adorning.\n\n    Now vases, bright with ruby hues,\n      He places on the altar,\n    And now the flowers! O gorgeous sight!\n      \u201cGood sexton,\u201d I did falter,\n\n    \u201cBut for one instant let me smell\n      Those odors which, like vapor\n    From censer, rising, lift--\u201d \u201cSmell! marm--\n      They\u2019re only made o\u2019 paper!\u201d\n\n    And now the golden candlesticks,\n      With candles like to rockets,\n    Lighting afar, quoth he: \u201cTin, marm:\n      The candles are in the sockets!\u201d\n\n    Yet there I see a hundred more\n      With blessed tapers burning.\n    O happy bees! Lo! here he comes,\n      From sacristy returning,\n\n    With basket filled with precious load\n      Of many more for decking\n    The candelabra round the \u201cthrone.\u201d\n      Said I, his pathway checking:\n\n    \u201cOh! lift for me the basket-lid;\n      I\u2019ll only humbly peer in\n    And see the blessed wax!\u201d \u201cSakes! marm\n      Not wax, but only stearine!\u201d\n\n    Oh! sparkle brightly, olive star,\n      In lamp inscribed with Latin:\n    \u201cSweet oil! whose unction--\u201d \u201cGuess not, marm:\n      The gas is turned on that \u2019un!\u201d\n\n    \u201cDevotion dims my pious view,\n      And speech within me throttles,\n    To see those sacred relics--\u201d \u201cThem?\n      Them\u2019s \u2019pothecary bottles!\u201d\n\n    \u201cNow don\u2019t you go a-pokin\u2019 round\n      Your nose to find \u2018abuses\u2019;\n    We\u2019ll let you know we has these things\n      Because--because we chooses!\u201d\n\n\nON THE WAY TO LOURDES.\n\nCONCLUDED.\n\nLeaving Lectoure, the railway keeps along the valley of the Gers, a\nbranch of the Garonne several shades yellower than the Tiber. The sides\nof the road are covered with _gen\u00eat_, or broom, loaded with yellow\nblossoms--the emblem of the Plantagenets, to whom this part of France\nwas once subject. It is not long before we come to Mount St. Cricq at\nthe left, where, in the IVth century, the glorious S. Oren, the apostle\nof the country, demolished a temple of Apollo-Belen, and set up an altar\nto the only true and uncreated Light under the invocation of S. Quiricus\n(S. Cyr) and S. Julitta. The church is now gone. A windmill stands near\nits site, the only prominent object on the hill, which is as bald and\nparched as if Apollo had claimed it for his own again.\n\nAuch now comes in sight, built on a height, and crowned with the towers\nof its noble cathedral. The sides of the hill are covered with houses,\nwhose arched galleries are open to the sun and pure mountain air, and\ngay with vines and flowers. The terraces before them look like hanging\ngardens, which give a charming freshness to the picturesque old city. The\nGers flows along at the foot of the hill as quietly as when Fortunatus\nsang of its sluggishness centuries ago. We cross it, and gain access to\nthe city by one of the long, narrow, steep, sunless staircases of stone,\ncalled _pousterles_, which remind us of Naples and Perugia. The place,\nin fact, is quite Italian in its whole aspect. As we ascend one of these\nflights we see, away up at the top, a large iron cross with all the\nemblems of the Passion in the centre of the landing-place, and we feel as\nif we were ascending some _Calvaire_. There is a broad modern staircase,\nmuch more grand and elegant, but not so interesting, dignified by the\nimposing term of _escalier monumental_, which takes one up a more gradual\nand less weary way of two hundred and thirty-two steps--something rather\nformidable, however, for the fat and scant o\u2019 breath!\n\nThese old cities, built on heights for greater security, were powerful\nholds in the Middle Ages, and all have their history. Their towers are\nall scarred over with fearful tragedies, relieved here and there by some\nflower of sweet romance or saintly legend.\n\nAuch was in ancient times called Climberris, the stronghold of the\n_Ausci_, who dwelt here before the Roman conquest--descendants of the\nIberians from the Caucasian regions, who left their country and settled\nin Spain and this side of the Pyrenees. The chief city of the most\ncivilized people of the country, a Roman settlement under the C\u00e6sars,\nthe most important place in Novempopulania, the capital of the Counts\nof Fezensac and Armagnac in the Middle Ages, and a wealthy influential\nsee, whose archbishops took part in all the great movements of the\nday, Auch was from early times a place of no small importance, however\ninsignificant now.\n\nWhen C\u00e6sar\u2019s lieutenant, Publius Crassus, took possession of the country,\nhe established a Roman colony on the banks of the Algersius, and the\nAusci, descending from their heights, it became so flourishing that\nit received the imperial name of Augusta Auscorum, and was one of the\nfew cities of the land to which the Roman emperors accorded the Latin\nright--that is, the power of governing itself. In the year 211, Caracalla\nallowed it the privilege of having a forum, gymnasium, theatre, baths,\netc., and it became the seat of a senate, the head of which was a Roman\nofficer called _comes_. Roman domination was at first submitted to\nreluctantly, but it proved an advantage to the city. Literature and the\narts were cultivated with success, the people enriched by new sources of\nindustry, sumptuous villas were built in the environs, and roads opened\nto Toulouse and various parts of Novempopulania. The pre-eminence of the\nschools here is evident from the poet Ausonius, tutor of the Emperor\nGratian, who spent part of his youth at Auch, pursuing his studies under\nStaphylius and Arborius, both of whom he eulogizes for their learning.\nArborius, the brother of Ausonius\u2019 mother, was the son of an astrologer,\nfrom a distant part of Gaul, who married a lady of rank in this country\nand settled here. He taught rhetoric, not only at Auch, but at Toulouse,\nwhere he became the confidential friend of Constantine\u2019s brothers, then\nin a kind of exile. This led to his fortune. The emperor afterward called\nhim to Constantinople, where he was loaded with riches and honors.\n\nAusonius\u2019 friend, Eutropius, a celebrated Latin author who held offices\nunder Julian the Apostate, had a seat in the vicinity of Auch.\n\nThe women, too, of this country were inspired with a taste for mental\ncultivation, as is shown by Sylvia, sister of the illustrious Rufinus\nof Elusa, one of the best-versed women of her day in Greek literature,\nand who rivalled the noble Roman matrons of the time of S. Jerome in her\nknowledge of sacred science. Sylvia died at Brescia, where her name is\nstill honored, while her native land has nearly forgotten her memory.\n\nThe prosperity of Auch was put an end to in the Vth century by the\ninvasion of the Goths and Vandals, and the city was only saved from\ndestruction by the mediation of S. Oren, its bishop. In the VIIIth\ncentury the country was overrun by the Moors, who destroyed the whole\ncity, with the exception of a faubourg still known, after more than a\nthousand years, as the Place de la Maure.\n\nTwo centuries after, the Counts of Armagnac built a castle on the summit\nof the hill where stood the ancient Climberris, and gathered their\nvassals around them. Here they held a brilliant court which attracted\ngallant knights and the gayest troubadours of the south. We read that\none of the counts, whose stout heart yielded for a time to the softening\ninfluences of the poetic muse, went to Toulouse to breathe out his tender\nlays at the feet of a certain fair lady, Lombarda, but prudence getting\nthe better of his gallantry, he abruptly brought them to an end, and\nhurried back to the defence of his castle, suddenly besieged by the enemy.\n\nIt was also in the Xth century Auch became a metropolitan see, which\nwas so generously endowed by the barons of the country that it became\none of the wealthiest and most powerful in the kingdom. Its archbishops\nwere to the great lords of the province what the popes then were to\nthe sovereigns of Europe. They were the lords spiritual, not only of\nNovempopulania, but the two Navarres. Kings of England wrote them to\nsecure their influence, which was so great that there was a rivalry among\nthe leading families desirous of securing the see for their children.\nWhen the Counts of Armagnac transferred their capital to Lectoure, the\narchbishops became sole lords of the city, and in them centred its\nhistory from that time. They bore the proudest names in the land, and\nmaintained all the state to which their birth and the importance of their\noffice entitled them. We read that when they came to take possession\nof their see, the Baron de Montaut, at the head of all the neighboring\ngentry, met them at the entrance to the city, and with bared head and\nknee took the archbishop\u2019s mule by the bridle and led him to the castle.\nThis was in accordance with the customs of feudal times, when vassals\noffered homage to their liege lords by bending the bared knee to the\nground, an _extension_, we suppose, of the Oriental practice of baring\nthe feet. We learn from Andres de Po\u00e7a, in his work, _De la Antigua Lenga\ny Comarcas de las Espa\u00f1as_, that the lords of Biscay took their oaths of\nfealty in the sanctuary in this way--a custom derived, perhaps, from the\nancient Cantabrians, who, as Strabo tells us, went to battle with one\nfoot shod and the other bare, reminding one of the touching nursery rhyme\nof \u201cMy son John,\u201d or the French ditty which is more to the point:\n\n    \u201cUn pied chauss\u00e9 et l\u2019autre nu,\n    Pauvre soldat, que feras-tu?\u201d\n\nThere were two other bishops in the south of France who received a\nsimilar mark of homage at taking possession of their sees. At Lectoure,\nit was the Seigneur de Castelnau, and at Cahors the Baron de Ceissac,\nwhose duty it was to offer it. At Auch, the Baron de Montaut afterwards\nserved the archbishop at dinner and received the silver plate on the\ntable as his perquisite. Dom Brugelles, in his Chronicles of the diocese,\ngives a ludicrous account of the disappointment of a Baron of Montaut at\nthe arrival of a cardinal-archbishop of simple habits, whose service was\nof glass, though of fine workmanship, which so disappointed the baron\nthat he forgot his loyalty and smashed all the dishes, to the great\ndisgust of the cardinal, who left the city and never returned.\n\nOne of the Archbishops of Auch, Geraud de Labarthe, went with Richard\nthe Lion-Hearted to the Holy Land, and had command of an armament. He\nknew also, it seems, how to wield his spiritual weapons, for on the way\nhe stopped in Sicily for a theological encounter with the celebrated\nabbot Joachim, in which he proved himself worthy of his descent from the\nLords of the Four Valleys. He died in the Holy Land in 1191, leaving a\nfoundation for the repose of his mother\u2019s soul, a touching incident in\nthe life of this valorous churchman.\n\nAnother archbishop established the Truce of God in his province, issued\nindulgences to encourage his people to go to the aid of the Spanish in\ntheir crusade against the Moors, and finally placed himself at the head\nof those who responded to his appeal and went to the assistance of Don\nAlfonso of Aragon, where he distinguished himself by his bravery and\nreligious zeal.\n\nOther prelates have a simpler record which it is pleasant to come upon\nin such rude times. Of one we read he granted an indulgence of three days\nto all who should bow the head at hearing the Holy Name of Jesus. This\nwas in 1383, when S. Bernardin of Sienna, the great propagator of this\ndevotion, was still a child.\n\nIn the XIVth century we find Cardinal Philip d\u2019Alen\u00e7on, of the blood\nroyal of France, among the archbishops of Auch. He died in Rome in\nthe odor of sanctity, and was buried in the church of Santa Maria in\nTrastevere, where his beautiful Gothic tomb--a _chef-d\u2019\u0153uvre_ of the\nXIVth century--may be seen in the left transept. In the arch is a fresco\nof the martyrdom of his patron, S. Philip, who was crucified with his\nhead downward, like S. Peter; and beneath lies the cardinal on his tomb,\nsculptured in marble, with hands folded in eternal prayer. Above are\nhis cardinal\u2019s hat and the _fleurs-de-lis_ of France, and below is the\nepitaph:\n\n    \u201cFrancorum genitus Regia de stirpe Philippus\n    Alenconiadus Osti\u00e6 titulatus ab urbe\n    Ecclesi\u00e6 cardo, tanta virtute reluxit\n    Ut sua supplicibus cumulentur marmora votis.\u201d\n\nThis prelate was the nephew and godson of Philippe le Bel, the destroyer\nof the Knights-Templars and persecutor of Pope Boniface VIII., who\nmerited the stigma Dante casts on him in his _Purgatorio_:\n\n    \u201cLo! the flower-de-luce\n    Enters Alagna: in his vicar, Christ\n    Himself a captive, and his mockery\n    Acted again. Lo! to his holy lip\n    The vinegar and gall once more applied,\n    And he \u2019twixt living robbers doomed to bleed.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhen, O Lord! shall I behold that vengeance accomplished which, being\nalready determined in thy secret judgment, thy retributive justice even\nnow contemplates with delight?\u201d continues the spirit met by the Divine\nPoet in the place of expiation--words that might be echoed in these days,\nwhen\n\n    \u201cThe new Pilate, of whose cruelty\n    Such violence cannot fill the measure up,\n    With no decree to sanction, pushes on\n    Into the temple his yet eager sails.\u201d\n\nWe are here reminded it was at Auch all the Knights-Templars of Bigorre,\nwith their commander, Bernard de Montagu, were executed. M. Martin,\nin his _History of France_, observes that all the traditions of this\nregion are favorable to the Templars. There is not one that is not to\ntheir credit. The old saying, \u201cDrink like a Templar,\u201d has no echo in the\nmountains of Bigorre. Many of their churches are still standing, objects\nof interest to the arch\u00e6ologist, and of devotion to the pious. There\nare six or seven skulls shown at Gavarnie, said to be of the martyred\nTemplars, and every year, on the anniversary of the destruction of the\nOrder, a knight armed from top to toe, and wearing the great white mantle\nof the Order, appears in the churchyard and cries three times: \u201cWho will\ndefend the Holy Temple? Who will deliver the Sepulchre of the Lord?\u201d Then\nthe seven heads come to life and reply: \u201cNo one! no one! The Temple is\ndestroyed!\u201d How earnestly these unfortunate knights begged to be tried\nby the Inquisition is well known. They felt there was some chance for\njustice at a tribunal in which there was a religious element.\n\nA Cardinal d\u2019Armagnac was Archbishop of Auch when the tragedy of Rod\u00e8le\ntook place, which rivals that of the Torre della Fame at Pisa in horror.\nGeraud, brother of Count Bernard VII. of Armagnac, having married his son\nto Margaret of Comminges, took up arms against her for forsaking her\nyouthful husband and withdrawing to the castle of Muret. Count Bernard\ntook advantage of this to make war on Geraud for holding the county of\nPardiac, on which he himself had claims, and pursued his brother from\none castle to another. Finally taking him captive, he carried him to\nthe fortress of Rod\u00e8le, and threw him into a deep pit, where he died of\nhunger and cold in four or five days.\n\nGeraud\u2019s two sons, John and Guilhem, alarmed at his captivity, but\nunaware of his fate, were induced to come to Auch to implore the clemency\nof their ferocious uncle, and on Good Friday, 1403, the Count de l\u2019Isle\nJourdain, kneeling with the poor children at his feet, besought him to\npardon them, in memory of the Divine Passion that day celebrated; but\nneither the day nor the helplessness of the children, so touchingly\nalluded to by their advocate, softened the inflexible count. He had them\nimprisoned in the castle of Lavardens, and shortly after, Guilhem, a\nlad of barely fifteen, was tied to a horse and taken to the fortress of\nRod\u00e8le. There he was shown the horrible pit into which his father had\nbeen let down alive to incur so fearful a death. The poor boy looked into\nthe fatal pit, fell senseless to the ground, and was never restored to\nlife. His brother John, the unhappy husband of the faithless Margaret of\nComminges, was carried to the castle of Brugens, where horrid tortures\nawaited him. He had only escaped from the hatred of his wife to fall into\nthe hands of Bonne de Berri, Count Bernard\u2019s wife, a woman of insatiable\nambition and relentless purpose. This new Fr\u00e9d\u00e9gonde put his eyes out by\npassing a red-hot brazier before them, and then, remembering the strength\nGod gave the blind Samson to take vengeance on his enemies, she had him\nthrown into a deep moat, where he died of hunger.\n\nNever was there a family that reflected more faithfully than the\nArmagnacs all the vices and defects as well as the virtues of the Middle\nAges. Its history contains every element to fix the attention, with\nits tragedies, its examples of brutal power, its prodigies of valor\nand heroism, its struggles in the cause of liberty, and, finally, in\nits marvels of faith. Religious influence sooner or later asserted its\ntriumph in the heart. Many of the counts laid aside their armor for the\ncowl and scapular, and atoned for their sins in the cloister. They were\nbenefactors to the Church, they founded monasteries, they fought in the\nholy wars. We find them with Godfrey of Bouillon under the walls of\nJerusalem, and fighting against the Moors with the Kings of Castile and\nAragon. Among the most renowned members of the race, we must not forget\nCount John I., a native of Auch, whose valor placed him on a level with\nDu Guesclin, the greatest captain of the age. For a time they fought on\nthe same side, but they met as opponents on the plain of Navarrete, where\nCount John fought for Don Pedro and greatly contributed to the victory.\nDu Guesclin was taken prisoner. For more than thirty years Count John was\none of the strongest supporters of the King of France. After the battle\nof Cr\u00e9cy, he stopped the tide of English invasion, and when the Black\nPrince was covering Aquitaine with blood and ruins in 1355, he alone\nventured to resist him and obstruct his victorious march.\n\nAfter the defeat at Poitiers, he veiled the humiliation of the king\nwith the splendor of his munificence. He sent the king all kinds of\nprovisions, as well as silver utensils, for his table. He convoked the\nEtats-G\u00e9n\u00e9raux to organize forces to avert calamities that threatened\nthe country. He fought beside the Duke of Anjou and Du Guesclin in the\nimmortal campaigns of 1369 and 1370. This was the period in which the\ngrandeur of the house of Armagnac culminated. John I. married Reine\nde Got, niece of Pope Clement V., whom Dante thrusts lower than Simon\nMagus. She was buried in the choir of the Cordeliers at Auch, now,\nalas! a granary. The count\u2019s second wife was Beatrice de Clermont,\ngreat-granddaughter of S. Louis IX., king of France, and one of his\ndaughters married the brother of Charles V., and the other the oldest son\nof Don Pedro of Aragon.\n\nSuch were the royal pretensions of this great house. Descended from the\nMerovingian race of kings through Sanche Mitarra, the terrible scourge\nof the Moors, who lies buried at S. Oren\u2019s Priory, founded by the first\nCount of Armagnac, on the banks of the Gers, the Counts of Auch, as they\nwere sometimes called, bore themselves right royally. They acknowledged\nno suzerain. They were the first to call themselves counts _by the grace\nof God_, a formula then used to express the divine right, but in the\nsense of S. Paul and of the Middle Ages, which was simply acknowledging\nthat all power comes from God, and that the right of exercising it has\nfor its true source not the force of arms, but in God alone. We must\ncome down to the XVth century to find the jealous susceptibility that\nonly interpreted, in the sense of absolute independence of all human\npower, such expressions as _Dei grati\u00e2_; _per Dei gratiam_; _Dei dono_,\netc., which had been used with the sole intention of expressing a truth\nof the Christian faith, a profound sentiment of subordination to divine\nauthority. This intention is nowhere so explicit as in the legend on the\nancient money of B\u00e9arn, where its rulers used almost the words of the\napostle: _Gratia autem Dei sumus id quod sumus_.\n\nCharles VII. thought it worth while to forbid John IV. of Armagnac, in\n1442, the use of such formulas. Seven years after, he obliged the Dukes\nof Burgundy to declare they bore no prejudice to the crown of France.\nLouis XI. vainly tried to prevent the Duke of Brittany from using them.\nSince that time it has been claimed as the exclusive right of sovereigns.\nBishops, however, retain the formula _Dei gratia_ in their public acts of\ndiocesan administration, with the addition: _et apostolic\u00e6 sedis_, which\ndates from the end of the XIIIth century only.\n\nIt was the independence and royal pretensions of such great vassals that\ndetermined the kings of France to destroy their power. Under the sons\nof Philip le Bel began the great struggle between the crown and the\nfeudal aristocracy. In order to incorporate their provinces with the\nroyal domains, they availed themselves of every pretext to crush them,\nand such pretexts were by no means wanting in the case of the Armagnacs,\nwhere they could claim the necessity of protecting the eternal laws\non which are based all family and social rights and the principles of\ntrue religion. History is full of the cruelty of the last counts, and\nforgets all it could offer by way of contrast. It forgets to speak of\nCount John III., who put an end to the brigandage of the great bands\nin southern France, and went to find a premature death under the walls\nof Alessandria, in an expedition too chivalrous not to be glorious. It\ninsists on the brutal ferocity and excessive ambition of Bernard VII.,\nthe great constable, and passes over all that could palliate his offences\nin so rude an age--his fine qualities, his zeal for the maintenance of\nlegitimate authority, and his interest in the welfare of the Church.\nIt lays bare the criminal passion of Count John V., and forgets his\nrepentance and reparation, as well as the holy austerities of Isabella in\nthe obscure cell of a Spanish monastery, where she effaced the scandal\nshe had given the world.\n\nCount John was the last real lord of Armagnac. He filled up the cup\nof wrath, and his humiliations and frightful death, the long, unjust\ncaptivity of his brother Charles, the scaffold on which perished Jacques\nde Nemours, and the abjection into which his children were plunged, are\nfearful examples of divine retribution.\n\nThe spoils of the counts of Armagnac were given as a dowry to Margaret\nof Valois when she married Henry II. of Navarre, who, as well as her\nfirst husband, the Duc d\u2019Alen\u00e7on, descended from the Armagnacs. Henry and\nMargaret made their solemn entry into Auch in 1527, and the latter, as\nCountess of Armagnac, took her seat as honorary canon in the cathedral.\nHer arms are still over the first stall at the left, beneath the lion\nrampant of the Armagnacs--a stall assigned those lords as lay canons, in\nthe time of Bernard III., who was the first to pay homage to S. Mary of\nAuch.\n\nMargaret\u2019s grandson, Henry IV., united the title of Armagnac to the crown\nof France, and Louis XIV., on his way from St. Jean-de-Luz, where he was\nmarried to Maria Theresa, the Infanta of Spain, passed through Auch, and,\nattending divine service in the cathedral, took his seat in the choir as\nCount of Armagnac.\n\nNapoleon III. accepted the title of honorary canon of this church.\n\nThe cathedral at Auch is remarkable for the stained glass windows of\nthe time of the Renaissance, which Catherine de Medicis wished to carry\noff to Paris, and the one hundred and thirteen stalls of the choir, the\nwonderful carvings of which rival those of Amiens. Napoleon I., on his\nreturn from Spain, admired and coveted these beautiful stalls, and wished\nto remove the old rood-loft which concealed them from the public. He\nendowed the church with an annual sum, and expressed his regret so fair\na _Sposa_ should be bereaved of its lord--the hierarchy not being fully\nrestored in France at that time.\n\nThe canons of the cathedral were formerly required to be _nobilis\nsanguine vel litteris_--noble of birth or distinguished in letters.\nThat they keep up to their standard in learning seems evident from\nthe reputation of one of their number, the savant Abb\u00e9 Can\u00e9to, one of\nthe most distinguished arch\u00e6ologists of the country, whose works are\nindispensable to the visitor to Auch and the surrounding places.\n\nIt is quite impressive to see these venerable canons seated in their\ncarved stalls, worthy of princes, singing the divine Office. Their capes,\nwe noticed, are trimmed with ermine, probably a mark of their dignity.\nTo wear furs of any kind was in the Middle Ages an indication of rank,\nor, at least, wealth. The English Parliament made a statute in 1334\nforbidding all persons wearing furs that had not an income of one hundred\npounds a year.\n\nIn this church is the altar of Notre Dame d\u2019Auch, the oldest shrine\nof the Virgin in the province, first set up at ancient Elusa by S.\nSaturninus, the Apostle of Toulouse, and brought here by S. Taurin in the\nIVth century, when that place was destroyed by the barbarians.\n\nThe similarity of S. Saturninus\u2019 devotion to that of the present day\nis remarkable--devotion to Mary and the Chair of Peter. Everywhere he\nerected churches in their honor, as at Elusa, now the town of Eauze.\nAt Auch he dedicated a church to the Prince of the Apostles, where now\nstands the little church of S. Pierre, on the other side of the Gers,\nonce burned down by the Huguenots.\n\nThe paintings of the Stations of the Cross in the cathedral were given by\na poor servant girl, whose heart at the hour of death turned towards the\nsanctuary where she had so often experienced the benefit of meditating\non the Sacred Passion that she was desirous of inciting others to so\nsalutary a devotion.\n\nIn one of the chapels is a monument to the memory of M. d\u2019Etigny, whose\nstatue is on the public promenade--the last Intendant of the province,\nwho employed a part of his immense fortune in building the fine roads\nthat lead to the watering-places in the Pyrenees, which have added so\nmuch to the prosperity of the country. But he was one of those _cui bono_\nmen who always sacrifice the picturesque and the interesting on some\nplea of public utility. He destroyed the medi\u00e6val character of the city,\nwith its narrow streets, curious overhanging houses--of which a few\nspecimens are left--and ancient walls with low arched gateways, made when\nmules alone were used for bringing in merchandise. When any sacrifice\nis to be made, why must it always fall on what appeals to the eye and\nthe imagination? Why must some people insist on effacing the venerable\nrecords of past ages to make room for their own utilitarian views? There\nare too many of such palimpsests. Is not the world large enough for all\nhuman tastes to find room to express themselves?\n\nWe had, however, no reason to grumble at M. d\u2019Etigny\u2019s fine roads among\nthe mountains, which saved us, in many instances, from being transported\nlike the ancient merchandise of Auch, and we nearly forgot his enormities\nwhen we found ourselves at Bagn\u00e8res-de-Luchon under the shade of the fine\ntrees he planted in the Cours d\u2019Etigny, where tourists and invalids love\nto gather in the evening.\n\nM. d\u2019Etigny also took an interest in the religious prosperity of\nthe country. On the corner-stone of a church at Vic Fezensac is the\ninscription: _Dominus d\u2019Etigny me posuit_, 1760. This church was built\nby P\u00e8re Pascal, a Franciscan, out of the ruins of the old castle of the\nCounts of Fezensac, which he obtained permission to use in spite of the\ntown authorities, by applying to Mme. de Pompadour, then all-powerful\nat court. Do not suppose the good friar paid the least homage to\nwickedness in high places by so doing. On the contrary, he boldly began\nhis petition: \u201cMadame, redeem your sins by your alms.\u201d Instead of taking\noffence, the duchess profited by the counsel. The _p\u00e8re_, returning\nfrom Auch with the royal permission, met some of his opponents, wholly\nunsuspicious of the truth, to whose pleasantries he replied: \u201cLet me\npass. I am exhausted, for I carry in my cowl the ruins of the castle of\nVic.\u201d\n\nAuch in those days was only lighted by the lamps that hung before the\nniches of the Virgin, and the only night-watchman up to the last century\nwas the crier, who went about the streets at midnight calling aloud on\nthe people to be mindful of their soul\u2019s salvation and pray for the\ndead. This practice was called the _miseremini_, because the crier\nsometimes made use of the words of Job sung in the Mass for the Dead:\n_Miseremini, miseremini mei, vos saltem amici mei, quia manus Domini\ntetigit me_--\u201cHave pity on me, have pity on me, O ye my friends! for the\nhand of the Lord hath touched me.\u201d It was also called the Reveill\u00e9, from\nthe beginning of the verses he sometimes chanted:\n\n    \u201cR\u00e9veille-toi, peuple Chr\u00e9tien,\n    R\u00e9veille-toi, c\u2019est pour ton bien.\n    Quitte ton lit, prend tes habits,\n    Pense \u00e0 la mort de J\u00e9sus Christ.\n    A la mort, \u00e0 la mort, il faut tous venir,\n    Tout doit enfin finir.\n\n    Quand de ce monde tu partiras,\n    Rien qu\u2019un linceul n\u2019emporteras\n    Ton corps sera mang\u00e9 des vers\n    Et peut-\u00eatre ton \u00e2me aux enfers.\n    A la mort, \u00e0 la mort, etc.\n\n    Tu passeras le long d\u2019un bois,\n    L\u00e0 tu trouveras une croix,\n    Sur cette croix il y a un \u00e9crit\n    C\u2019est le doux nom de J\u00e9sus Christ,\n    A la mort, \u00e0 la mort, etc.\u201d\n\nThis crier acted the part of a policeman, keeping an eye on the\nevil-doer, and watching over the safety of the town. If he discovered a\ndoor ajar, he entered and aroused the inmates. A startling apparition\nhe must have been to the offenders of the law. He wore a death\u2019s head\nand cross-bones embroidered before and behind, and carried a small bell\nin his hand, which he rang from time to time as he passed through\nthe narrow streets with his lugubrious cry. Of course he was a public\nfunctionary of importance. He figured in full costume in the great\nreligious processions and took a part in all the public festivities.\n\nOn the sunny terraces of Auch grow the seedless pears which have been so\nrenowned from time immemorial that they have their place in the annals of\nthe city. We have fully tested the qualities of these unrivalled pears,\nand can sincerely echo all that has been said in their praise. Duchesne,\nthe physician of Henry IV., an empiric of the school of Paracelsus, and a\nfamous person in his day, does not forget in his _Di\u00e6teticon_ to mention\nthem among the most famous productions of his country. He places them in\nthe first rank, and those of Tours in the second. According to him, they\noriginated in the town of Crustumerium in Italy, and their name, derived\ntherefrom, was softened by the Italians into Cristiano, whence that\nof Bon Chr\u00e9tien, as they are sometimes called, though not their right\nname. Others call them Pomp\u00e9ienne, because, as they say, introduced by\nPompidian, an ancient bishop of Eauze. But everybody with a proper sense\nof the case will stoutly attribute them, in accordance with the popular\ntradition, to the great S. Oren, whose blessing gave them their rare\nqualities, especially the peculiarity of being seedless when the trees\ngrow within the limit of the city, though this is by no means the case\nwith those that grow in the environs.\n\nDom Brugelles, a Benedictine of last century, mentions this peculiarity\nin his Chronicles of the diocese, and says they were in such demand in\nhis time as to be worth sometimes thirty-six francs a dozen.\n\nP\u00e8re Aub\u00e9ry, in his Latin poem of _Augusta Auscorum_, is enthusiastic in\ntheir praise: \u201cHow I love the aspect of these fair gardens enclosed among\nsumptuous dwellings! What a wealth of flowers! And the trees bear a fruit\nstill more worthy of your admiration. The Pomp\u00e9ienne pear, delicious as\nthe ambrosia of the gods, was reserved for the soil of this city alone.\nThe trees without its walls, even those that grow close to its trenches,\ndo not produce the like. This most glorious of fruit is an inappreciable\ngift of heaven and earth, which is praised throughout the kingdom and\nsold at a great price in distant lands.[145]\n\n\u201cThe pears of the fertile gardens of Touraine cannot be compared to\nthose whose old name of Pomp\u00e9ienne is now lost in that of Bon Chr\u00e9tien.\nThe pears at Tours are as inferior to those of Auch as other honey in\nsweetness to that of Hybla. Nay, should the gods themselves by chance\nknow of these trees, should they taste of these Auscitain pears so\ndelicious to the palate, they would despise the dishes served at their\ncelestial banquets--yes, scorn the flowing nectar and sweet ambrosia that\nfeed their immortality.\n\n\u201cAnd as the admirable name of Bon Chr\u00e9tien is only given the pears that\ngrow in the gardens of the city, and belongs not to those produced\nelsewhere; as it is only within these walls they acquire so agreeable\nand appetizing a flavor, their name is a presage that the inhabitants\nshall never be infected by the contagion and venom of heresy--a scourge\nthat has attacked almost all the towns of Armagnac--and that the Mother\nof Christ, patroness of Auch, by averting this poison, shall keep them\nfaithful to the rites of their ancestors, and fill them with eternal love\nfor the ancient religion.\u201d\n\nM. Lafforgue, in his _History of Auch_, says these pears are so\nprized that they are often presented to princes, governors, and other\ndistinguished characters. When Elizabeth Farnese, Queen of Spain, passed\nthrough Auch on her way to join her husband Philip V., in Nov., 1714,\nthe city consuls offered her, as they had done the Dukes of Berry and\nBurgundy in 1701, some of the _poires d\u2019Auch_. Twenty dozen, which cost\none hundred and forty-three livres, were presented her in straw boxes\nmade by the Ursuline nuns.[146]\n\nWhen Mr. Laplagne, a native of this part of the country, and Minister of\nFinance under Louis Philippe, boasted in M. Guizot\u2019s presence, with true\nGascon expansiveness, of the seedless pears that grow on the terraces of\nAuch, the latter, with the distrust of certain great minds, expressed\nsome incredulity. M. Laplagne resolved to convince the President of\nthe Council publicly, and procured at some expense an enormous pear,\nripened on the very terrace which a century before had produced the fruit\nso vaunted by Dom Brugelles. Fifty guests were invited to witness the\nresult. They assembled around the table, in the centre of which was\ndisplayed the wonderful pear from Auch. M. Guizot could hardly believe\nhis eyes at such a prodigy, and declared himself convinced. The dessert\nwas impatiently awaited. The Minister of Finance, certain of victory,\ninsisted on M. Guizot\u2019s opening the pear. It was set before him. He cut\nit in two with some difficulty--it contained four large seeds!\n\nIn spite of this exceptional case, the _poires d\u2019Auch_ (their right name,\nby the way) that grow within the limits of the city are generally without\nseeds. The superabundant pulp seems to stifle them. They are still the\npride of the place, and it was only a year or two ago a number were sent\nto his Holiness Pius IX.\n\nP\u00e8re Aub\u00e9ry, whom I have quoted, was connected with the college at Auch,\nformerly under the direction of the Jesuits. S. Francis Regis was also\nfor some time one of its professors. Among the eminent men educated here\nmay be mentioned Cardinal d\u2019Ossat, who, when _charg\u00e9 d\u2019affaires_ at Rome,\nsucceeded in obtaining the absolution of Henry IV. from the Holy See. He\nwas a poor country lad, whose condition, exciting the pity of the canons\nof Trie, they made him a choirboy, and sent him to school. He became\nsuccessively a charity scholar of the Jesuits at Auch, the _prot\u00e9g\u00e9_ of\nCardinal de Foix and his secretary of embassy at Rome, and, finally,\n_charg\u00e9 d\u2019affaires_ at the Papal court and Cardinal-bishop of Bayeux. He\ndied at Rome in 1604, bequeathing the little he possessed to the poor\nand his two secretaries. This celebrated diplomatist was an honor to his\ncountry and the church that developed his talents.\n\nThe famous Nostradamus was another pupil of this college.\n\nBernard du Poey, a disciple of Buchanan, and a poet of some note, was\nprofessor here when the college was under the direction of laymen. We\ngive one of his epigrams, written while connected with this institution:\n\n    \u201cLucis amore simul f\u0153dam protrudimus omnem\n    Barbariem: tenebris nec patet ista domus.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe love of light makes us cast away every vestige of barbarism: this\nhouse opens not to darkness.\u201d\n\n\u201cBarbarism\u201d--\u201clight\u201d--\u201cdarkness\u201d--a jargon often heard in our day also,\nand it still finds its dupes. The would-be metaphysicians and theologians\nwho use it should meditate on this sentence of Berkeley\u2019s: \u201cWe first\nraise a dust, and then complain we cannot see!\u201d\n\nOnce more on the way. It is not till we approach Rabastens we see an\nopening in the outer range of the Pyrenees, and behold Mt. Maladetta\nraising heavenward its glittering diadem of glaciers. Behind is Spain,\nreligious Spain, \u201cland of an eternal crusade\u201d and wondrous saints.\nRabastens is one of the most ancient towns in Bigorre, and celebrated in\nthe religious wars: It was here Blaise de Monluc received the frightful\nwound in his face which obliged him to wear a mask the rest of his life,\nand gave him the leisure to write his Commentaries, which Henry IV.\ncalled the Soldier\u2019s Bible. This old warrior, deprived of nearly all his\nlimbs, coolly relates a thousand incidents of incredible bravery in the\nboasting manner of a true Gascon, that does not ill become a book written\nfor the defenders of Gascony.\n\nTwelve miles or so further on is Tarbes, the _chef-lieu_ of the Hautes\nPyr\u00e9n\u00e9es--\u201cgentille Reine.\u201d\n\n\u201cBigourdaine,\u201d as Jasmin says, \u201csplendidement assise au milieu de la\nplaine la plus fraiche, la plus fertile et la plus vari\u00e9e.\u201d The water\nfrom the Adour, first brought here to fill the moat that surrounded the\ncity, is now used to turn mills and fertilize the meadows, which are\nwonderfully fresh, affording a charming contrast to the mountains in the\nbackground.\n\nThe foundation of Tarbes is lost in the remoteness of time. Its\noccupation by the Romans is evident from the camp still pointed out in\nthe vicinity. Bigorre, of which it was the principal city, was made\na _comt\u00e9_ in the VIIIth century, and its succession of counts was\nuninterrupted till Henry IV. ascended the throne of France. Its first\ncount was En\u00e9co (or Inigo) Arista, or The Bold, who became King of\nNavarre, and rivalled the Cid in prowess.\n\nBigorre was ceded to the English by the treaty of Brittany, but when\nwar again broke out between England and France two great barons of the\nprovince, Menaud de Barbazan and the Sire d\u2019Anchin, as Froissart relates,\nseized the city and castle of Tarbes, and all Bigorre rose to expel the\nEnglish, who only continued to hold for a time the impregnable fortresses\nof Lourdes and Mauvezin. This Lord of Barbazan was a companion in arms\nof Du Guesclin and took sides with the Armagnacs, his kinsmen, in their\nfamous contest with the house of Foix. His son, Arnauld Guilhem de\nBarbazan, was the valiant knight who wore so worthily the fair flower of\na blameless life that he received the title, which he was the first to\nbear, of the _chevalier sans peur et sans reproche_, conferred on him by\nhis contemporaries. Monstrelet says he was a noble knight, prompt in\naction, fertile in expedients, and renowned in arms. He was the leader\nin the famous encounter between seven French and seven English knights\nat Saintonge in 1402, when the latter challenged the French to a trial\nof arms out of love for _les dames de leurs pens\u00e9es_. The French knights\nbegan the day by devoutly hearing Mass and receiving the Holy Body of the\nLord. Jouvenel des Ursins depicts the fearful encounter, which took place\nin presence of a vast number of spectators, among whom was the Count of\nArmagnac. Lances were shivered and terrible blows given with sword and\nbattle-axe, but it was Barbazan who decided the day, and the English were\nforced to acknowledge themselves defeated. The conquerors, clothed in\nwhite, were led in triumph to the King, who loaded them with presents. To\nthe Chevalier de Barbazan he gave a purse of gold and a sword on one side\nof which was graven, _Barbazan sans reproche_, in letters of gold; and\non the other, _Ut lapsu graviore ruant_. This sword is still preserved\nin the Ch\u00e2teau de Faudoas by the descendants of Barbazan\u2019s sister. The\nchivalric deeds that won it were commemorated not only in the chronicles\nof the time, but in three ballads of Christine de Pisan.\n\nBarbazan was as noble in heart as heroic in action. He took sides with\nCount Bernard VII. of Armagnac against the Duke of Burgundy, but, when\nthe latter fell a victim to treachery, he indignantly condemned the\ncrime, and said he would rather have died than had a hand in it. He\nfought side by side with Dunois, Lahire, and La Tr\u00e9mouille, at Orleans,\nAuxerre, and many another battle-field. His last exploit was to rout\neight thousand English and Burgundian troops near Chalons, with only\nthree thousand, a few months after the atrocious murder of Joan of Arc,\nunder whose white banner he had fought.\n\nSo valuable were his services that the king conferred on him the\nmagnificent title of \u201cRestaurateur du royaume et de la couronne de\nFrance,\u201d and added the _fleurs-de-lis_ to his arms. Soldiers received\nknighthood from his hands as if he were a king. When he died, he was\nburied at St. Denis among the kings of France with all the honors of\nroyalty--a supreme honor, of which there are only two other instances in\nFrench history--Du Guesclin and Turenne.\n\nThe feudal castle of Barbazan is on a steep hill a few miles southeast\nof Tarbes. The Roman inscriptions found there show it to be of extreme\nantiquity. On the summit of the hill is the chapel of Notre Dame de\nPi\u00e9tat, built by Anne de Bourbon, Lord of Barbazan, to receive a\nmiraculous Madonna that had long been an object of veneration to the\npeople around. He founded two weekly Masses here, one in honor of the\nholy name of God, and the other of the Virgin, and he bequeathed lands\nfor the support of the chapel, which is still a pious resort for pilgrims.\n\nThe Cathedral of Tarbes is built on the ruins of the ancient fortress\nof Bigorre, which gave its name to the surrounding province. The\nbishops have an important place in the annals of the country. Under the\nMerovingian race of kings they held the rank of princes, and were the\npeers of the proudest barons in the land. We find several saints in the\nlist--S. Justin, S. Faustus, and S. Landeol, whose venerable forms look\ndown from the windows of the chancel in the cathedral. Gregory of Tours\nmentions S. Justin, and speaks of a lily on his tomb that bloomed every\nyear on the day of his martyrdom.\n\nBernard II., a bishop of Tarbes in the year 1009, merits the admiration\nof posterity for his efforts to relieve his flock during a terrible\nfamine of three years, in which people devoured one another to such an\nextent that a law was made condemning those who ate human flesh to be\nburned alive. The holy bishop, like S. Exuperius of Toulouse, sold all\nthe vessels and ornaments of the church, and gave all he possessed, to\nalleviate the wants of his people.\n\nHis successor stayed a civil war that broke out, to add to the distress\nof the country, by assembling the chief lords of the land and conjuring\nthem not to add fire and pillage to the horrors of famine, but rather\nseek to disarm the vengeance of heaven by their prayers. He established\nthe Truce of God in his diocese, and had the happiness of seeing peace\nand abundance restored to the land. These old bishops seemed to have some\ncorrect notions of their obligations, though they did live in the darkest\nof the Middle Ages!\n\nIn the time of a bishop who belonged to the house of Foix appeared a\ncomet which alarmed all Europe. The Pope profited by the universal terror\nto recommend a stricter practice of the Christian virtues, in order, as\nhe said, if any danger were at hand, that the faithful might be saved.\nThe Bishop of Tarbes instituted public processions on the occasion.\n\nIt was a Bishop of Tarbes, the Cardinal Gabriel de Gramont, who in\nthe XVIth century played so important a part in the negotiations\nbetween Henry VIII. of England and the Pope to dissolve the marriage\nof the former with Catherine of Aragon. The king pretended to act from\nconscientious motives, and said the Bishop of Tarbes confirmed his\nscruples. We need something more than the mere word of a monarch who\nviolated the most solemn promises and obligations to induce us to believe\nin the complicity of the bishop, though, deceived by the representations\nof the king, and alarmed at the consequences of a rupture with the Holy\nSee, he may have endeavored to temporize, that the crisis might be\ndelayed.\n\nTarbes was taken by the Huguenots under the ferocious Count de Montgomery\nin the XVIth century. He devastated the cathedral, and burned its fine\norgan, its altars, vestments, choral books, library, and chapter-house.\nThe bells were melted down, the bishop\u2019s house pillaged and burned, as\nwell as the residences of the canons, the convents of the Cordeliers,\nCarmelites, etc. The bishop was forced to retreat to the mountains,\nwhere, charmed by the picturesque heights above the valley of Luz, he\nre-established the springs of S. Sauveur, and built a little chapel with\nthe inscription: _Vos haurietis aquas de fontibus Salvatoris_; whence the\nname since given this watering-place was derived.\n\nIt is recorded of a bishop in the XVIIth century, as something\nextraordinary, that, contrary to custom, he allowed his flock, in a time\nof famine, to eat meat during Lent on Sundays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays.\nHe probably had the liberal proclivities of Bishop H\u00e9bert of Agen,\nalready mentioned!\n\nFinally, it was a Bishop of Tarbes who, in these days, restored four\ndevout chapels of the Virgin, of ancient renown in the country, but\nprofaned at the Revolution and left desolate, and gave them back to Mary\nwith priests to minister at their altars: Notre Dame de Garaison, in a\nvalley of the Hautes Pyr\u00e9n\u00e9es; Notre Dame de Pi\u00e9tat, overlooking the\nplain of Tarbes; Notre Dame de Poueylahun, on a picturesque peak that\nrises from the valley of Azun; and Notre Dame de H\u00e9as, the Madonna of\nshepherds, in a hollow of the wild mountains near the Spanish frontier--a\npowerful quadrilateral for the defence of this diocese of Mary. The\nmemory of Bishop Lawrence will likewise be for ever associated with\nthe church of Notre Dame de Lourdes, for it was he who, by his zeal,\nprudence, and spiritual insight contributed so greatly to its foundation.\nIt became the cherished object of interest in his old age. He begged for\nit, labored for it, and watched over the progress of the work. His last\nact before attending the Council of the Vatican was a pilgrimage to the\nsacred Grotto, and while at Rome his heart was constantly turning to this\nnew altar in Mary\u2019s honor, and testifying great joy at the splendor of\nthe solemnities. He died at Rome in January, 1870, and his remains were\nbrought back to Tarbes for burial.\n\nAt Tarbes we changed cars for Lourdes. Here we received our first\nimpressions of the great religious movement in the country, manifested\nby the immense pilgrimages, which rival those of the Middle Ages. We\nencountered a train of pilgrims with red crosses on their breasts and\nhuge rosaries around their necks. There were gentlemen and ladies, and\npriests and sisters of different religious orders. Among them was a\ncardinal, whose hand people knelt to kiss as he issued from the cars.\nThey all had radiant faces, as if they had been on some joyful mission\ninstead of a penitential pilgrimage. But one of the fruits of penitence\nand faith is joy in the highest sense of the word. Spenser wisely makes\nthe proud Sansfoy the father of Sansjoy.\n\nLeaving them behind, we kept on in full view of the mountains along a\nfine plateau called Lanne Maurine, or the Land of the Moors. The Moorish\ninvasion, though more than a thousand years ago, has left ineffaceable\ntraces all through this country. The traveller is always coming across\nthem. In one place is the Fountain of the Moors; in another the Castle of\nthe Moors; and there are many families who still bear the names of Maure\nand Mouret. The Lanne Maurine is so called from a bloody combat which\ntook place here to dispute the possession of the plain. It was a priest\nwho roused the people to arms and led them against the infidel, whom they\nsmote hip and thigh. A grateful people have erected an equestrian statue\nto his memory at the entrance of his village church.\n\nWe were now rapidly approaching Lourdes. Already the Pic du Gers rose\nout of the valley sacred to Mary, and the heart instinctively turns from\neverything else to hail the new star that has risen in these favored\nheavens to diffuse the pure radiance of the Immaculate Conception!\n\n\nA LITTLE BIRD.\n\n    In his cage my blithe canary, swinging,\n      Trills with merry voice a roundelay;\n    From the early sunrise he is singing,\n      Chirping, flying, flitting all the day.\n\n    They who call it cruel thus to hold him\n      Never saw his joyous, twinkling eyes,\n    Never heard the something that I told him\n      Once, beneath delusive April skies:\n\n    When my hand drew back the sliding casement,\n      Bidding him be happy and go free,\n    Thinking all the while, in self-abasement,\n      Never more a jailer stern to be.\n\n    So I left him, lingering, fearing, sighing,\n      Loath to watch him soar and speed away,\n    Loath to see him from my roof-tree flying,\n      Sad to miss his songs and pretty play.\n\n    Evening fell, and in my chamber lying,\n      Wondering where the bird had found a nest,\n    What was that around me feebly flying,\n      What was that low drooping on my breast?\n\n    Ruffled plumage, tiny pinions weary,\n      Every flutter seemed a throb of pain;\n    Ah! the prison-house was not so dreary,\n      Tired Robin had come home again!\n\n    They who deem it cruel thus to hold him\n      Should have seen the wanderer\u2019s listless eyes\n    Greet the loving care so quick to fold him\n      Safe and warm from show\u2019ry April skies.\n\n    Never morning now but sees him flitting\n      In and out, as happy as can be;\n    Never twilight but it finds him sitting\n      Drowsy-eyed, a willing captive he.\n\n    Birdie, warbler, beautiful canary!\n      Trill the fulness of thy roundelay;\n    Of the rippling sweetness never chary,\n      Sing, my pretty Robin, all the day!\n\n\nEARLY ANNALS OF CATHOLICITY IN NEW JERSEY.\n\nThe first navigators who are known to have sailed along the seaboard,\nand perhaps to have landed on the soil of that part of America now\ncalled New Jersey, were Catholics, and in fact made their voyages before\nProtestantism was heard of. These hardy men were Sebastian Cabot, a\nVenetian in the service of King Henry VII. of England, who sailed from\nBristol in the month of May, 1498, and, proceeding considerably to the\nnorth, afterwards turned south and followed the coast-line as far as\nthe Chesapeake; and John Verazzano, a Florentine in the pay of the King\nof France, who, taking a southerly course to America in 1524, proceeded\nalong the coast from Florida to the fiftieth degree of north latitude,\nand is supposed to have entered the harbor of New York. The earliest\ncolony established here was about 1620, when Dutch Calvinists (emigrants\nfrom Holland) settled the town of Bergen; and in 1638, a party of\nSwedes, who were Lutherans, made several settlements on the shore of\nthe Delaware. They were under the patronage of their celebrated Queen\nChristina, who later became a Catholic. In 1664, a grant of the country\nbetween the Connecticut and the Delaware rivers was made by King Charles\nII. of England--the Swedes having been subjugated by the Hollanders, and\nthese in their turn by the English--to his brother the Duke of York,\nwho afterwards was a sincere convert to the Catholic faith, and reigned\nas James II. That portion of this territory which is now New Jersey\nwas sold by the royal patron to two proprietors, one of whom was Sir\nGeorge Carteret; and it was in his honor that it received its present\nname, for his having defended during the Parliamentary war against the\nRevolutionists the island of _Jersey_, which is one of the so-called\nChannel Isles on the coast of France, and is full of ancient churches and\nother memorials of the Catholic faith, introduced there by S. Helier in\nthe VIth century.\n\nBut apart from the name there was nothing that recalled the Catholic\nreligion in New Jersey. The most intense anti-Catholic sentiment was\nprevalent, and the bitter fanaticism of the mother country was extended\neven to these parts with perhaps increased virulence. Thus, in 1679, the\n26th of November was appointed a day of thanksgiving in the colony for\ndeliverance from what was called \u201cthat horrid plot of the Papists to\nmurder the King (Charles II.) and destroy all the Protestants!\u201d--which\nwas the infamous affair of Titus Oates, gotten up maliciously against\nthe Catholics to have still another pretext for persecuting them. The\nwhole province having been divided into two parts, called respectively\nEast and West New Jersey, the latter was settled, to mention only\nthe English-speaking population, mostly by members of the Society of\nFriends, commonly called Quakers, from England, but the former by\nScotch Presbyterians and Congregationalists from New England; and of\nthis part Robert Barclay was appointed first governor for life, but,\nhaving power to name a deputy, he remained in Scotland. This miserable\nman, after having become a Catholic in France, where he had an uncle a\npriest, who was at the expense of educating him, relapsed into heresy\nshortly after returning to his native country, where his religion was\nproscribed, and finally joined the Quakers, for whom he wrote the\nfamous _Apology_. A circumstance in the life of this apostate shows\nwell the constancy of the royal convert who lost three kingdoms for his\nfaith, and must have reminded him of his own instability upon the same\nmatter. Barclay was in London in 1688, probably on business connected\nwith his government of East New Jersey, and solicited an interview with\nKing James. The revolution was already breaking, and his treacherous\nson-in-law, afterwards William III., was on his way to dethrone him;\nwhen, standing by an open window of the palace, his Majesty observed to\nthe governor that the wind was fair for the Prince of Orange to come\nover: whereupon Barclay replied that it was hard no expedient could be\nfound to satisfy the people. The king declared he would do anything\nbecoming a gentleman except \u201c_parting with liberty of conscience_, which\nhe never would while he lived.\u201d The king was indeed a martyr to this\nprinciple, and how much it was despised by his Protestant betrayers may\nbe seen, to give an example out of these parts, from the instruction\ngiven in 1703 to Lord Cornbury, governor of the Jerseys (as well as\nof New York), \u201cto permit liberty of conscience to all persons _except\nPapists_\u201d; and this barbarous intolerance continued as long as the\ncolonies remained united to England. Every now and then glaring cases of\nanti-Catholic bigotry, calculated only to perpetuate civil dissensions\nsprung from religious differences, were found in the history of the\ncolony; as, for instance, in 1757, when the principal edifice of the\nCollege of New Jersey at Princeton was named by Governor Belcher _Nassau\nHall_--\u201cto express,\u201d he said, \u201cthe honor we retain in this remote part\nof the globe to the immortal memory of the glorious King William III.,\nwho was a branch of the illustrious house of Nassau, and who, under\nGod, was the great deliverer of the British nation from those two\n_monstrous furies_, _Popery_ and slavery.\u201d About this period there were\na few Jesuit priests in Maryland and Pennsylvania; and the earliest\naccount that we have of Catholics in New Jersey is in 1744, when we\nread that Father Theodore Schneider, a distinguished German Jesuit who\nhad professed philosophy and theology in Europe, and been rector of a\nuniversity, coming to the American Provinces, \u201cvisited New Jersey and\nheld church at Iron Furnaces there.\u201d This good missionary was a native\nof Bavaria. He founded the mission at Goshenhoppen, now in Berks county,\nPennsylvania, about forty-five miles from Philadelphia, and ministered\nto German Catholics, their descendants, and others. Having some skill in\nmedicine, he used to cure the body as well as the soul; and, travelling\nabout on foot or on horseback under the name of Doctor Schneider\n(leaving to the _Smelfunguses_ to discover whether he were of medicine\nor divinity), he had access to places where he could not otherwise have\ngone without personal danger; but sometimes his real character was found\nout, and he was several times raced and shot at in New Jersey. He used\nto carry about with him on his missionary excursions into this province\na manuscript copy of the _Roman Missal_, carefully written out in his\nown handwriting and bound by himself. His poverty or the difficulty of\nprocuring printed Catholic liturgical books from Europe, or, we are\ninclined to think, the danger of discovery should such an one with its\nunmistakable marks of \u201cPopery\u201d about it (which he probably dispensed\nwith in his manuscript), fall into the hands of heretics, must have led\nhim to this labor of patience and zeal. Father Schneider, who may be\nreckoned the first missionary of New Jersey, died on the 11th of July,\n1764. Another Jesuit used to visit the province occasionally after 1762,\nowing to the growing infirmities of Father Schneider, and there still\nexist records of baptisms performed by him here. This was the Rev. Robert\nHarding, a native of England, who arrived in America in 1732. He died at\nPhiladelphia on the 1st of September, 1772. But the priest principally\nconnected with the early missions in New Jersey is the Rev. Ferdinand\nFarmer. He was born in South Germany in 1720, and, having entered the\nSociety of Jesus, was sent to Maryland in 1752. His real name was\nSteenmeyer, but on coming to this country he changed it into one more\neasily pronounced by English-speaking people. He was learned and zealous,\nand for many years performed priestly duties in New Jersey at several\nplaces in the northern part, and seems to have been the first to visit\nthis colony regularly. In his baptismal register the following among\nother places are named, together with the dates of his ministrations:\na station called Geiger\u2019s, in 1759; Charlottenburg, in 1769; Morris\nCounty, Long Pond, and Mount Hope, in 1776; Sussex County, Ringwood,\nand Hunterdon County, in 1785. The chief congregation at this period\nwas at a place called Macoupin (now in Passaic County), about fifteen\nmiles from the present city of Paterson. It was settled in the middle of\nthe last century by Germans, who were brought over to labor in the iron\nmines and works in this part of the province. Two families from Baden\namong the colonists were Catholics; and the first priest who visited them\nis said to have been a Mr. Langrey from Ireland. Mount Hope, not far\nfrom Macoupin, used to be visited by Father Farmer twice a year, and by\nother priests, as occasion might require, from Philadelphia. Except the\nCatholics in the northern parts, there were very few scattered about New\nJersey before the American Revolution. The schoolmaster at Mount Holly\nin 1762 was an Irish Catholic named Thomas McCurtain, and one of his\ndescendants is the distinguished scholar and antiquarian, John G. Shea.\nThe Catholics in these colonies before American Independence were subject\nin spiritual matters to the Bishop (vicar-apostolic) of London, who used\nto appoint a vicar-general (the superior of the Jesuits in Maryland) to\nsupply his place. After the suppression of the Society of Jesus in 1773,\nthe vicar-general. Father John Lewis, was the late superior of the order\nin this country. The visits of the missionaries to New Jersey seem to\nhave been interrupted during the Revolutionary War; but a number of very\ndistinguished foreign Catholics serving in our army honored the land by\ntheir presence in such a cause. Among them we find Lafayette, Chevalier\nMassillon, De Kalb, Pulaski, Kosciusko, and Mauduit du Plessis, the\nengineer officer who fortified Fort Mercer, at Red Bank on the Delaware,\nwith so much skill that the attacking Hessians were thoroughly repulsed.\nIn the months of August and September, 1781, the French troops under\nDe Rochambeau marched diagonally across the State from Sufferns (just\nover line) in New York, by way of Pompton, Whippany, Byram\u2019s Tavern,\nSomerville, Princeton, and Trenton. An army chaplain, the Abb\u00e9 Robin,\npublished a little book in 1782, describing this French expedition from\nNew Port to York-town; but, regrettably, he gives his readers not a word\nabout any Catholics that he may have met or heard of in New Jersey.\n\nAfter the evacuation of New York by the British in 1783, there was a\nprospect of collecting the few scattered Catholics on Manhattan Island\ninto a congregation, and the venerable Father Farmer used to go twice a\nyear to visit the faithful there, across the northern part of this State,\nstopping on his way to officiate at Macoupin. On the 22d of September,\n1785, the Rev. John Carroll, who had been appointed by the Pope superior\nof the church in the United States and empowered to give Confirmation,\nset out on a tour to administer this sacrament at Philadelphia, New York,\nand (as he writes to a friend) \u201cin the upper counties of the Jerseys and\nPennsylvania, where our worthy German brethren had formed congregations.\u201d\nIn this year Rev. Mr. Carroll computed the number of Catholics under his\ncharge at sixteen thousand in Maryland, seven thousand in Pennsylvania,\nand two thousand scattered about the other States. The number of priests\nwas nineteen in Maryland and five in Pennsylvania. We learn how small was\nthe grain of mustard-seed of the church in this part of the world less\nthan a hundred years ago, when we see that there was no resident priest\nat that time between Canada and Pennsylvania; and it used to be said\ncontemptuously (so Watson has it in his _Annals_): \u201cJohn Leary goes once\na year to Philadelphia to get absolution.\u201d This worthy man therefore,\nwho was certainly living in New York in 1774, had to leave that city and\ncross the whole of New Jersey before he could perform his Easter duties.\nThe earlier editions of Catholic books printed in the United States\nwere generally gotten up by subscription, and a perusal of the lists of\nsubscribers is interesting, as giving some idea of the number, zeal,\nand original nationality (conjectured from the form of patronymic) of\nthe Catholics at the time. Thus, to the first Catholic Bible published\nin the United States, at Philadelphia in 1790, only six out of the four\nhundred and twenty-seven subscribers were from New Jersey. These are\nJoseph Bloomfield, Attorney-General of the State; James Craft and R. S.\nJones, Burlington; John Holmes, Cape May; Alexander Kenney, near (New)\nBrunswick; and Maurice Moynihan, Atsion; but in considering this, the\nmost interesting to us of any lists of subscribers to early Catholic\nbooks, we must remember that the names are not all of Catholics; and of\nthese six from New Jersey the last three only are considered orthodox by\nArchbishop Bayley in his appendix to the _History of the Catholic Church\nin New York_ (2d ed.)\n\nThe massacre of 1793 in the Island of Hayti drove a number of French\nCatholics to the United States, some of whom settled at Mount Holly,\nElizabethtown, and other parts of the State, but we do not know that they\ndid anything for the church. Catholic advance was to come from quite\nanother immigration. In 1805, or earlier, the Rev. John Tisserant, one\nof the French clergy driven from home by the Revolution, was living at\nElizabethtown. He was an excellent man, and may be considered the first\nresident priest in New Jersey, although he cannot be said to have been\n_stationed_ here by authority. He returned to Europe in June, 1806. The\nminister of the Presbyterian church at Whippany (Morris County) from 1791\nto 1795 was Calvin White. \u201cHis ministry, though brief, was useful,\u201d says\nthe historian. He afterwards connected himself with the Episcopalians,\nand finally became a Catholic. A conversion of this kind at that period\nwas sufficiently remarkable, we think, to be mentioned in notes on the\nCatholic Church in New Jersey.\n\nIn the year 1808, the dioceses of New York and Philadelphia were erected,\nwith the northern part of New Jersey within the former and the southern\nwithin the latter diocese. This arrangement continued until 1853; and\nwhile it lasted religion made some progress here, but slowly. The Rev.\nRichard Bulger, a native of Kilkenny, Ireland, having come to the\nAmerican Mission, was ordained priest by Bishop Connolly of New York, in\n1820. He was assistant at the cathedral in New York, and thence regularly\nattended Paterson, where he devoted himself to the Catholics gathered in\nthat manufacturing town, and scattered about the upper part of the State.\nThe church at Paterson is mentioned in the Almanac of 1822; it being then\nthe only one in New Jersey. The pastor was exposed to inconvenience,\ninsults, and hardship. One evening, for instance, a bigoted ruffian threw\na large jagged stone into his lighted room, the shutters or window-blinds\nhaving been left unclosed, and he had a narrow escape from a hole in his\nhead. On another occasion he was rudely turned out on to the muddy road\nwith his Breviary and bundle from a country cart, the driver of which had\ngiven him a lift until he discovered that he was a priest. The account,\nhowever, says that it was the farmer\u2019s _wife_ who \u201cdeclared that he\nshould not remain in the wagon\u201d; and the man afterwards applied to Father\nBulger for instruction, and was received into the church, but we do not\nhear of the conversion of the scold--perhaps because (as an old poet says)\n\n    \u201cWomen\u2019s feet run still astray,\n    If once to ill they know the way\u201d!\n\n    --_Habington._\n\nAbout 1825, that part of New Jersey under the jurisdiction of the Bishop\nof Philadelphia used to be visited occasionally by clergymen from beyond\nthe Delaware, and stations were established at Pleasant Mills and\nTrenton, which continued to be served, but without resident pastors (we\nbelieve), until the diocese of Newark was erected. The city of Newark\nhad a pastor about 1830 in the person of Rev. Gregory Pardow, who was\nin 1834 the only priest actually residing in New Jersey. After this\nperiod churches were erected not only in the principal city, Newark, but\nalso in Jersey City, Perth Amboy, Belleville, Madison, New Brunswick,\nElizabethtown, Macoupin, and other centres of population. The church at\nMacoupin was erected in 1841 by Father John Raffeiner, a native of the\nTyrol, who came to this country in 1833, and used to visit the Germans\nscattered through New Jersey; and in 1842 a church in Newark for the\nGerman Catholics was erected by Father Balleis, a Benedictine monk. On\nthe 30th of October, 1853, the Rt. Rev. J. R. Bayley, at the time a\npriest in New York, was consecrated first bishop of Newark, the diocese\nbeing coextensive with the State; and, on his taking possession of his\nsee, found thirty-three churches and thirty clergymen. Since then the\nadvance of the Catholic religion here has been rapid; and when Bishop\nBayley was transferred to Baltimore, he left to his successor what is\nconsidered, we believe, one of the completest dioceses in the United\nStates--a disciplined clergy, religious orders of both sexes, diocesan\nseminary, college for higher education, academy for young ladies, select\nand parochial schools, orphan asylums, hospitals, cemeteries, and other\nChristian institutions, in a flourishing condition. The progress of the\nchurch during these latter years has been before the eyes of all; and\nas we have intended to limit ourselves to the period anterior to the\nerection of New Jersey into a diocese, in making notes on Catholicity in\nthe State, we now end them, if even a little abruptly.\n\n\nNEW PUBLICATIONS.\n\n    MANUAL OF THE BLESSED SACRAMENT. Translated from the French of\n    Rev. T. B. Boone, S.J., by Mrs. Annie Blount Storrs. New York:\n    The Catholic Publication Society. 1875. 18mo, pp. 509.\n\nThe publication of this manual supplies a real want which many devout\npersons have felt, and which they will now find fully satisfied. It is\na companion for the altar, a treasure of pious reading, of meditation\nand prayers, for Mass, Communion, Visits to the Blessed Sacrament,\nConfraternities, and days of special devotion, such as Corpus Christi\nand the Forty Hours\u2019 Adoration. It is translated from the French by\nan accomplished lady well fitted for the task, and has been carefully\nexamined and corrected by several clergymen of New York who are\ndistinguished for their learning and piety. The approbation of the\nCardinal is the best proof of the excellence of the work, for, apart\nfrom the authoritative character of his sanction, no one is better able\nto appreciate a work of this kind, or to judge of its merits, than His\nEminence; and we are assured that he has not simply contented himself\nwith the examination requisite to make sure that this manual is orthodox\nin doctrine, and therefore fit for publication, but has warmly interested\nhimself in its translation and preparation for the press, on account of\nhis high estimate of its value. In Belgium, where devotion to the Blessed\nSacrament especially flourishes, it is the favorite book of its kind.\nThe treatise on frequent communion is especially thorough and important;\nand there is one, also, on the devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus--a\ndevotion so intimately connected with that of the Blessed Sacrament of\nthe Altar. We need not add, after this, that we recommend the manual\nin a special manner to religious communities, and to the faithful\ngenerally. We trust that their own personal experience of the benefit and\nconsolation to be derived from its use will secure their cordial assent\nto the praise we have bestowed upon it, and that it will become as\npopular here as it is in Belgium.\n\n    THE LIFE OF OUR LORD JESUS CHRIST. By Louis Veuillot.\n    Translated into English by the Rev. Anthony Farley. From the\n    Seventh French Edition. New York: The Catholic Publication\n    Society. 1875.\n\nAt last we welcome in English a work published eleven years ago. Written\nin answer to Renan, \u201cIt is truly,\u201d says the translator, \u201cwhat our Holy\nFather Pius IX. calls it, \u2018A vindication of the outraged Godhead of\nChrist.\u2019\u201d The letter of the Holy Father is prefixed to the table of\ncontents.\n\nWe transcribe what the translator says in apology for reproducing the\nwork at this late hour:\n\n    \u201cAppearing as it does some time after the existence of the\n    original work, it might seem that the object of the book had\n    ceased to be, had been forgotten, or was of no moment to the\n    public of our day and of our country. But when we remember\n    the deep impression produced by Renan\u2019s work--an impression\n    stamped (it would seem indelibly) upon the religious literature\n    and religious teaching of our times--we have to admit that a\n    vindication of Christ, _the God-Man_, is as necessary to-day\n    as it was when the new Voltaire appeared to shock religious\n    sentiment in France and in the world. \u2018Christus heri et hodie,\u2019\n    is the war-cry of the foes, just as much as the trust and\n    comfort of the faithful lovers of the God-Man.\u201d\n\nNext comes Louis Veuillot\u2019s preface, which should be read with more\nattention than is generally accorded to prefaces. Indeed, we think few\nwho begin to read it will hesitate to go through. The author reminds us\nthat himself was once a sceptic; and throws a light upon the unbelieving\nmind--upon the cause and nature of unbelief--which only such a man with\nsuch an experience can throw.\n\nHis aim in writing Our Lord\u2019s life is to show the overwhelming force\nof the simple Gospel story. He contends (and we are sure he is right)\nthat, while the \u201cdeniers and falsifiers of the truth have been admirably\nrefuted in every objection raised by them,\u201d yet, \u201csince their supreme\nart lies in feigning and producing _ignorance_, the essential point\nshould be to reply especially to what they do _not_ say. This is what we\nunavoidably forget\u201d (pp. 17, 18). Then, referring to Renan, he continues:\n\n    \u201cThe last of those wicked impugners of the divinity of\n    Christ our Lord who has rendered himself celebrated has well\n    understood, in a book of five or six hundred pages, how to\n    speak of Jesus Christ without pointing him out. Perpetually\n    avoiding all that belongs to God, with the same stroke he\n    perverts all that belongs to _the man_. This artifice of\n    weakness is the only strength of the book. It has drawn the\n    apologist into the discussion of trifles in which the Man-God\n    completely disappears. The refutations are excellent, but they\n    leave us ignorant of what Jesus Christ has done, and for what\n    purpose he came into the world. Thus it is not Christ who has\n    the case gained, yet less the laborious reader of so much\n    controversy; it is this miserable man, who has proposed to\n    himself to betray God and his neighbor.\u201d\n\nAnd again:\n\n    \u201cThe clement wisdom of Jesus has not been left to the mercy of\n    sophists, nor to the resources of reason, nor to lowliness or\n    feebleness of faith. It has foreseen the weakness of the mind\n    of man, and has prepared a succor always victorious. It is not\n    necessary to ransack the libraries, to collect together so\n    many dead languages, so much history, so much physics, so much\n    philosophy, to know with certainty him who came to save the\n    little ones and the ignorant. The bread of life is as easy to\n    find as the material bread, on the same conditions. A simple,\n    faithful Christian or member of the Church of God, a man of the\n    world, provided he may have studied a few books and heard some\n    instruction, can render an account of his faith far better than\n    the \u2018savants,\u2019 the pretended unbelievers, are in a condition to\n    give an account of their incredulity. The Gospel is sufficient\n    for that.\n\n    \u201cThe Gospel contains motives conclusive of the faith in Jesus\n    Christ, true God and true man--motives, reasons, which the\n    Saviour himself has put forth. We can paralyze, by the contents\n    of the Gospel, the sophistry of the infidel, without being\n    shocked by its contact. What does it matter that the sophist\n    should amass notes against the sincerity of the Evangelists, if\n    we have clear proof that he of whom the Evangelists speak is\n    God? On bended knees, before _the Real Presence_, one is not\n    tempted to withdraw from its contemplation in order to consider\n    or view more closely this vile apparition of blasphemy. We\n    are by no means bound to extract from it open avowals of\n    repentance.\u201d\n\nThen he gives the reason for this sufficiency of the Gospel:\n\n    \u201cThere are different degrees in the region of the mind;\n    discussion belongs to the inferior degrees. In discussing, man\n    is pitted against man; the reason of the one seems as good as\n    that of the other. In expounding, we place God against man.\n\n    \u201cThis exposition of the truth must get the preference when God\n    is absolutely and personally in the case. From the apex of\n    those lofty heights the voice of man properly avoids discussing\n    with nothingness, lest weak human reason might be inclined to\n    believe that nothingness could reply; that the beauty of truth\n    might appear alone in the presence of the absolute deformity of\n    falsehood.\u201d\n\nAnd again:\n\n    \u201cAmong infidels ignorance of the Gospel is generally complete;\n    among a great many Christians it is hardly less so. They know\n    the Gospel by heart, and they do not understand it. They\n    have not read it with care, with order, such as it has been\n    delivered. They do not know how to explain it or meditate on it\n    as they ought. Whosoever sees in the Gospel only the letter,\n    does not understand even the letter; and whosoever seeks for\n    morality only in its pages, does not find the morality they\n    contain.\u201d\n\nLastly, he dismisses Renan\u2019s _Life_ in the following masterly words:\n\n    \u201cAs to a certain malicious book which unhappily signalizes the\n    age in which we live, we have been obliged to refer to it two\n    or three times. We could have wished not to touch on it. The\n    first sentiments of Catholics on this deplorable book have\n    become much modified since they have been enabled to perceive\n    more exactly the malicious industry of the author. While we see\n    him assume the task of ignoring, we are convinced he is yet far\n    from having lost the faith. He dare not look upon the crucifix\n    face to face--he would fear to see the blood trickling down.\n    In his conscience he declares himself a traitor. This is the\n    confession which we read in his book, turned resolutely away\n    from the light of day. We blame this miserable man, and we\n    detest and abhor his crime; but he is to be pitied, and every\n    Christian will be happy to say to him what Ananias said to\n    Saul: \u2018My brother Saul, the Lord Jesus, _who appeared to you on\n    the road whence you are coming_, has sent me to meet you, so\n    that you may receive your sight.\u2019\u201d\n\n    A DISCOURSE COMMEMORATIVE OF HON. SAMUEL WILLISTON. By W.\n    S. Tyler, Williston Professor of Greek in Amherst College.\n    Springfield, Mass.: Clark W. Bryan & Co. 1874.\n\nThe venerable gentleman commemorated in this discourse died on the\n18th of July, 1874, at an advanced age, after a life which is in many\nrespects remarkable and worthy of lasting remembrance. His history is\ninteresting, as presenting the most distinctive and admirable traits of\nthe genuine old-fashioned New England type of character. It is remarkable\non account of the great works which he performed during his lifetime. It\nis honorable and worthy of remembrance on account of the great example\nit presents to wealthy men, of a man who realized the proper position\nwhich men of large fortunes ought to take in the community, as public\nbenefactors, as founders, as stewards of wealth for the common good.\nMr. Williston was the son of a poor country clergyman whose salary was\n$300 a year. Disappointed in his early efforts to obtain a liberal\neducation by an affection of the eyes which debarred him from the\npleasure of reading all his lifetime, he set himself to the task of\nmaking a fortune that he might have the means of promoting education and\nin other ways benefiting his fellow-men, especially those of his own\nneighborhood and commonwealth. He was successful in this undertaking,\nand, besides the large fortune which he left at death to his heirs, he\nis said to have bestowed a million of dollars in public beneficent works\nduring his lifetime, and to have bequeathed more than half that sum by\ntestament for similar purposes. He was the second founder of Amherst\nCollege, the founder of the Williston Seminary at Easthampton, and of\nthe beautiful town of that name, which Prof. Tyler says \u201che found a\nmere hamlet, and left one of the richest and most beautiful towns in\nHampshire County, a great educational and manufacturing centre, with\nbeautiful farmhouses (villas they might almost be called) and several\nmodel villages clustered about elegant churches, and a model seminary\nof learning.\u201d Mr. Williston gained during life, and left after him, the\nreputation of a man of integrity, probity, and high moral principle. His\nreligious belief, which was that of the old-fashioned Congregationalists\nof Massachusetts, was his guiding and dominating idea, and he followed it\nup in practice consistently and conscientiously. The portrait prefixed\nto Prof. Tyler\u2019s discourse is one very pleasant to look upon, and shows\nthe face of an honest, sensible, good man, surmounted by an expansive,\nintellectual forehead, and set firmly upon a manly bust. One excellent\nfeature in Mr. Williston\u2019s character was his adherence to the principle\nthat good education and healthy civilization must rest on a religious\nand Christian basis. In this respect, he contrasts favorably with a\nlarge and increasing class of Protestants, who are taking sides openly\nwith infidels in the accursed work of secularizing education, and crying\nup merely material or intellectual progress. His panegyrist, Prof.\nTyler, writes admirably upon this theme. This discourse, apart from\nthe interest given to it by the truly noble life which it describes,\nis in itself remarkably full of fine thoughts, showing the effect of\nthe deep study of the classics to which the learned author has devoted\nhis life. We are pleased to notice the calm and just manner in which he\ntouches incidentally upon some topics connected with the Catholic Church.\nSpeaking of the honor which is due to those men who are founders of\ninstitutions useful to mankind, in a truly philosophical strain, and with\nillustrations drawn from both pagan and Christian history, he proceeds to\nsay: \u201cThere are no names more hallowed in the Catholic Church than the\nfounders of those monasteries which, with all their sins, have the merit\nof keeping religion and learning alive through the darkness and confusion\nof the Middle Ages. The founders, too, of those religious orders whose\ninfluence has been felt to the remotest bounds of Christendom, what\nveneration is felt for them by all good Catholics, from age to age!\nThe names of S. Benedict, S. Dominic, S. Francis, and Ignatius Loyola\nhave been canonized and embalmed in the religious societies which they\nestablished.\u201d The fact that these words were pronounced in the pulpit of\nthe chapel of Amherst College gives them a peculiar significance. We do\nnot consider them as denoting any Catholic tendencies in Prof. Tyler or\nhis associates, but merely a diminution of power in the old Protestant\nand Puritan tradition, and the existence of a more philosophical and\neclectic spirit. The rationalizing movement which is disintegrating\nProtestant societies carries away a great deal of prejudice and error on\nits tide. It threatens also to sweep away the remnants and fragments of\ntruth. Amherst, seated on the remote hills of Hampshire, has been safer\nfrom the flood, hitherto, than Cambridge and New Haven. Nevertheless,\nit must be invaded by the rising waters in its turn. There is nothing\nbut the Catholic Church which can stand, when knowledge and reason\ntake the place of the ignorance and credulity necessary to a blind\nfollowing of the Reformation. The remnant of orthodox Protestants must\ntherefore follow the inexorable logic of Luther\u2019s principle into its\nconsequences of sheer rationalism, or make their way back to Catholic\nfaith. Individuals may remain stationary, but the mass has to move,\nand even the works of men who are both great and good rest on a sandy\nfoundation, which will be undermined in a short time unless they are\nbuilt on the rock of Catholic stability. Mr. Williston, we have no doubt,\ndid his best, not only to create temporal well-being and prosperity,\nbut also that which is higher, more lasting, and directed toward the\neternal good, which is the chief end of man. Numbers of generous and\nnoble hearts, like himself, have endeavored and are now striving toward\nthe same objects, from the same motives. They are the pillars of the\ncommonwealth, the real peers of the realm, the chief bulwark of our\npolitical and social state amid the horde of base, corrupt intriguers and\ndemagogues, mammon worshippers and spendthrifts, crowding our legislative\nhalls and marts of business, and flaunting in vulgar show through our\nstreets. It is impossible, however, that the work which they strive\nsingly to accomplish, whether for education, philanthropy, political\nreform and progress, or the promotion of the Christian religion, should\nbe successfully performed except through Catholic unity and organization\nin the communion of the one true Church. If all the enlightened and\nvirtuous men and women in the United States who believe that Jesus Christ\nis the Saviour, and Christianity the salvation of mankind were united in\nfaith and directed by one authority, there is nothing which they could\nnot accomplish on this vast field which God has given us, and which at\npresent is to a great extent mere wild land. In conclusion, we express\nour thanks to Mrs. Emily G. Williston and the other executors of the Hon.\nMr. Williston for their courtesy in sending us a copy of this discourse,\nwhich is printed in a most beautiful and tasteful manner.\n\n    THE CHILD. By Mgr. Dupanloup, Bishop of Orleans. Translated,\n    with the author\u2019s permission, by Kate Anderson. Boston: Patrick\n    Donahoe. 1875.\n\nMgr. Dupanloup is one of the most eloquent orators and writers of France.\nThe theme of the present book, which might have been handled in an able\nand complete and yet dull manner by another, is treated in a spirited,\nglowing, fascinating style by the illustrious Bishop of Orleans. It is a\ncharming, attractive, and most important theme, handled by one who was\na most enthusiastic and successful teacher of boys and youths before\nhe became a bishop. Every parent, and especially every mother, should\nread this book; so also should those who have the charge of children\nand young people in schools or elsewhere. It is more specifically and\nprecisely suitable to the case and condition of boys, as is natural,\nconsidering that the author has been more immediately engaged in the\ncare of colleges than of convents. Yet, in general, its principles and\ninstructions are appropriate for girls also, children being very nearly\nalike in most respects, whether they are boys or girls. In respect to\nthe moral training of boys, there are some instructions very plainly and\nyet delicately given in the fourteenth and fifteenth chapters, which are\nspecially necessary for a very large class at the present day and in\nour very corrupt state of society. In the wealthy and fashionable circle\nof American society, the children are very generally spoiled. Who is not\nfamiliar with the fast boy of fourteen, whose outward and visible sign is\na blue ribbon on his straw hat, and with his sister of twelve, in short\nclothes, sparkling with jewelry, but dim-eyed, pale-faced, and thin, from\nkeeping late hours and other precocious dissipations? The end of these\nfast young people is usually tragical. If not so, they are at the best\nwilted and spoiled, like bouquets of flowers which have remained for a\nwhole day among lighted candles.\n\nWe regret to say that many of our wealthy Catholics, especially those\nwho have suddenly acquired riches, strive to emulate in the race of\nextravagance and luxury the most utterly worldly class of people, who\nlive professedly for mere earthly enjoyment. Their children are therefore\ntrained in a way which is morally the very opposite of the Christian and\nCatholic method. In a lesser degree, the same loose, indulgent, soft,\nand effeminate style of bringing up children prevails in families where\nthe spirit of the parents is less worldly and more religious. Boys and\ngirls do not remain children long enough, and are not treated as children\nought to be treated. They are too precociously developed into young\nladies and gentlemen. So far as our observation extends, the education\nat home and at school which our Catholic boys of the more affluent class\nare receiving is much more defective in respect to religion and morality\nthan that of the girls. They are more spoiled at home, and are less\namenable to wholesome discipline and intellectual training at school than\ntheir sisters. They are also exposed to much greater danger of becoming\nessentially irreligious and vicious, and going utterly to ruin, before\nor soon after they attain their majority, and therefore great errors in\ntheir early training are more deplorable. All parents, and especially\nmothers, who are not wholly careless and frivolous, must perceive clearly\nand feel deeply the vital importance of this subject of the early\ntraining of boys. Let them read carefully and frequently this choice book\nof Bishop Dupanloup, and they will understand better how to reverence\nthat wonderful and beautiful being--a regenerate child; how to train the\nchild for the duty and the solid happiness of its earthly life, how to\neducate it for heaven.\n\n    SPAIN AND THE SPANIARDS. By N. L. Thi\u00e9blin. Boston: Lee &\n    Shepard; New York: Lee, Shepard & Dillingham. 1875.\n\nThe corps of professional writers for the great newspapers of Europe\nand America is remarkable in many ways for talent, enterprise, courage,\nsagacity, and skill in that style of composition which is the most\neffective for the purposes of the secular press. Its _esprit de corps_\nis not very high as regards truth, the eternal principles of right and\ndevotion to just and noble causes. It is to a great extent mercenary,\nunscrupulous, time-serving, skeptical, and superficial. Incidentally it\noften serves the cause of right and truth with great efficacy, and no\ndoubt wages a very successful war on many evils and abuses in favor of\ncertain temporal interests, diffuses a vast amount of information, and\ncontributes its full quantity of force to the wheels that make the world\nspin round with an ever-increasing velocity. Certain of its members have\nmade themselves truly famous in this present age by their explorations\nand their chronicles of wars or other great contemporary events, that\nalmost rival Livy and C\u00e6sar. It is only necessary to mention the names of\nRussell and Stanley as illustrations of this statement.\n\nMr. Thi\u00e9blin has won a high place among these brilliant writers for the\npress, by his extraordinary courage and enterprise in following up, first\nthe military movements of the Franco-Prussian war, and more recently\nthose of the Carlist campaigns, and his very great talent in describing\nwhat he has seen and learned with so much perseverance and effort. He\nis a good specimen of the corps to which he belongs. Apparently a mere\nfree-thinker in respect to all the higher order of truth, solicitous only\nto see and narrate what is transpiring on the earth, an intellectual\nknight-errant and free lance, without any kind of allegiance to any\npower higher than the _Pall Mall Gazette_ or the _New York Herald_, he\nis brave, good-humored, witty, and graphic; a keen observer, a charming\nnarrator, with a great deal of justice and impartiality, and evidently\ntelling the truth about those things which can be apprehended through\nthe senses, and which his mind is capable of understanding. There are\na few offensive remarks about Catholic matters, a few jeering allusions\nto things beyond his rather limited sphere of vision, and a moderate\nquantity of the usual newspaper political wisdom, upon which we place,\nof course, a very low estimate. The real substance of the book, however,\nwhich is the testimony of the writer respecting what he learned by\npersonal observation respecting the army of Don Carlos and the state of\nthings in Spain, is of the highest value and interest. We have not read\na book with so much pleasure for a long time. The author takes us right\ninto the Carlist camp and the romantic Vasco Navarrese country where Don\nCarlos is king, into the company of his generals and soldiers, into the\nhouses of the parish priests, and among the loyal, religious peasantry.\nHe has no sympathy with the religion of the Spaniards or the cause of\nDon Carlos, and his favorable testimony to the piety, morality, bravery,\nand good discipline of the faithful soldiers and subjects of the gallant\nprince are beyond cavil. The history of the eccentric and famous Cur\u00e9 of\nSanta Cruz is most curious. The authentic narrative of facts concerning\nthe Carlist movement makes it evident to our mind that the prospects\nof ultimate and complete success in the effort of Don Carlos to gain\npossession of the kingdom are very encouraging. Mr. Thi\u00e9blin does not\nconfine himself to an account of his experience in the Carlist camps.\nHe gives a great deal of information gathered from the visits he made\nto the quarters of the Republicans, personal observation of the state\nof things in Madrid and other places, and conversations with prominent\npersonages. He can appreciate what is admirable in Spain and the\nSpaniards much better than most non-Catholics; and being wholly free from\nProtestant sympathies, perceives clearly and ridicules freely the sham\nof Evangelical missions with their invariable concomitant of boastful\nand calumnious lying. As a very good sort of heathen, and an extremely\nclever man, with a fine taste for what is beautiful, and an eclectic\nhabit of mind, he gives just and charming descriptions of many things in\nthat Catholic country and people--in short, understanding the principles\nand causes which have produced that which he partially approves, but\ncannot estimate at its full worth, as he would do if he were a thorough\nand intelligent Catholic, in respect to the state of Catholic religion\nand piety in Spain, his account of the lapse from ancient faith is\npartly correct, but one-sided and imperfect, as that of a foreign and\nanti-Catholic observer must be. In respect to morality and general\nwell-being and happiness, he is a competent witness, and his testimony\nshows how much better, happier, and more refined, in the true sense, the\nSpanish people, even in their present disorganized state are, than the\nmass of the population in England or the United States. In regard to\nSpanish politics, he sympathizes, of course, most perfectly with Castelar\nand the orderly, moderate Republicans, and next to these with the party\nof Don Alfonso. He makes an elaborate argument in favor of the claim of\nthis young prince to be the inheritor of all the rights of Ferdinand VII.\nIn our opinion, Don Carlos has the most valid title to this inheritance.\nBut as we have no time to prove this, we must waive the question of\nlegitimacy.\n\nThere is another right which has precedence of any right to inherit the\nthrone: This is the right of the Church and nation to have restored\nand preserved the ancient heritage of the Spanish nation, those laws\nand institutions, and that government which are necessary to the\nreligious and political well being of the whole people. The r\u00e9gime of\nthe Christinos was destructive to both, and almost the whole nation\nacquiesced in the expulsion of Isabella. We do not think that the\nmajority of even that portion of the Spaniards who are at present\nsubject to Don Alfonso really consent to his rule, or that there is any\nguarantee that it will be better than that of the late queen. He has\nbeen taken up by the Liberals as a _pis aller_, and is only tolerated by\nthe greater part of those who are loyal to the religion and constitution\nof the Spanish monarchy. Don Carlos, as his own published statements,\nparticularly his recent letter to Louis Veuillot, prove, is the champion\nof religious and political regeneration. It is, therefore, desirable that\nhis claim to the crown should be lawfully ratified, and receive whatever\nmay be requisite to make it a perfect right in actual possession, by the\nact of the Spanish nation. We may say the same of the Comte de Chambord\nin respect to the throne of France. This is a sufficient reason why\nCatholics, even American Catholics, who are faithful to the Republic\nhere, because it is an established and legitimate order, should be\nhostile to the Republican party in Spain and France, and to any kind\nof patched-up liberalistic monarchy in either country, and wish for\nthe success of Don Carlos and Henri de Bourbon. There are some very\ngood Catholics who think differently, even such staunch champions of\nthe Catholic cause as our illustrious friend the Bishop of Salford,\nthe editor of the _London Tablet_, and Dr. Ward. They seem to us to be\nmistaken and inconsistent, and we agree personally with the _Civilt\u00e0\nCattolica_ and the _Univers_ that the cause of Charles VII. and Henry V.\nis the same with that of Pius IX. considered as a temporal sovereign, and\nclosely connected with the triumph of his rights as Sovereign Pontiff.\nWe have, moreover, the confident hope that the one will yet reign over\nregenerated Spain and the other over regenerated France, after the\ninfamous Prussian tyranny shall have been trampled in the dust, and\nthe usurper of the Quirinal shall have met the fate of all foregoing\noppressors of the Holy See.\n\nDIOS, PATRIA, Y REY is the true watchword of beautiful, Catholic, unhappy\nSpain.\n\n    A PILGRIMAGE TO THE LAND OF THE CID. Translated from the French\n    of Frederic Ozanam. By P. S. New York: The Catholic Publication\n    Society. 1875.\n\nThis little volume, by the eminent writer and lecturer Prof. Ozanam,\nsupplies much that was wanting in the one just noticed, in its\nappreciative sketches of Catholic objects and traditions. The book was\nthe result of a tour made a year before the author\u2019s death. It would be a\ngood travelling companion in the country described, or elsewhere.\n\n    A FULL CATECHISM OF THE CATHOLIC RELIGION (preceded by a Short\n    History of Religion), from the Creation of the World to the\n    Present Time. With Questions for Examination. Translated from\n    the German of the Rev. Joseph Deharbe, S.J., by the Rev. John\n    Fander. First American Edition. _Permissu Superiorum._ New\n    York: The Catholic Publication Society. 1875.\n\n\u201cThis is the most celebrated catechism of the century, has been most\nextensively approved and brought into use, and will be of great service\nto those who are employed in teaching young people the Christian\ndoctrine, as well as for the instruction of converts.\u201d\n\nWe can add nothing to the above notice of the London edition of this\ncatechism, which heretofore appeared in this magazine, except to say that\nthe American edition has been revised and corrected, and adopted into the\nYoung Catholic\u2019s School Series.\n\n    THE VICTIMS OF THE MAMERTINE. By Rev. A. J. O\u2019Reilly, D.D. New\n    York: D. & J. Sadlier & Co. 1875.\n\n_The Martyrs of the Coliseum_ will have prepared the reader for another\ntreat in this later work of the same author. Dr. O\u2019Reilly is one of\nthe most diligent workers of the rich mine of Christian traditions\nso successfully explored by Cardinal Wiseman, in the preparation of\n_Fabiola_. The author properly claims great authenticity for the records\nof this prison, the high position of its victims rendering the task of\nidentification one of comparative ease. While the world is being filled\nwith the exploits of \u201cthe heroes of paganism, who were at best but\ntyrants and murderers,\u201d we should not ignore the deeds of those truer\nheroes--the persecuted champions of the early Christian Church.\n\n    THE SPIRIT OF FAITH; or, What I Must do to Believe. By Bishop\n    Hedley, O.S.B. New York: The Catholic Publication Society. 1875.\n\nThis _brochure_ is made up of a series of lectures delivered in St.\nPeter\u2019s, Cardiff, by its right reverend author. The reader will not\nhave proceeded far to be convinced of the opportuneness of the subjects\ndiscussed, and the competence of the writer, who may also be recognized\nas a former contributor to these pages.\n\n    SERMONS FOR EVERY SUNDAY IN THE YEAR, AND FOR THE LEADING\n    HOLIDAYS OF OBLIGATION. By Rev. William Gahan. With a Preface\n    by the Right Rev. Dr. Walsh. Edited by Rev. J. O\u2019Leary, D.D.\n    New York: D. & J. Sadlier & Co. 1875.\n\nThe reverend clergy will be content with the announcement of a new\nedition of these standard discourses. Their quality was long ago\ndetermined.\n\n\n\n\nTHE CATHOLIC WORLD.\n\nVOL. XXI., No. 125.--AUGUST, 1875.\n\nEntered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1875, by Rev. I. T.\nHECKER, in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C.\n\n\nTHE PERSECUTION IN SWITZERLAND FROM THE REVUE GENERALE.\n\nFor seven months have we kept silence on the religious persecution in\nSwitzerland. Not that during that interval the rage of the persecutors\nhas become appeased; very far from it. But the spectacle they afford\nis so repulsive to the conscience that the pen falls from the hand in\ndisgust whilst narrating their exploits. Nevertheless, we suppose it\nmay be of service to give a complete although succinct history of the\nviolence and hypocrisy of Swiss liberalism. And for that reason we renew\nour recital.\n\nUp to the present time, the persecution has only raged in two dioceses,\nthe smallest, Geneva, and the largest, Basel. But elsewhere the fire\nsmoulders beneath the ashes, and everything goes to prove that, if the\nliberals should succeed in overthrowing the church in the cantons where\nthey have inaugurated their barbarous and intolerant rule, they will\ncontinue their efforts even into the heart of the country. Already,\nindeed, here and there, outside of the two just-named dioceses, they\nreveal their intentions by isolated measures.\n\nThus at St. Gall, the cantonal council, the majority of which consists of\nProtestants and free-thinkers, has forbidden the Catholic clergy to teach\nthe Syllabus and the dogma of Papal Infallibility; and, as the clergy\nhave refused to obey such an order, the Council of Public Instruction\nhas withdrawn from them the teaching the catechism during Lent, and has\nplaced the duty in the hands of schoolmasters in absolute dependence on\nthe state. This example betrays the intention of liberalism, in the name\nof liberty, no longer to tolerate any religion but such as is fashioned\nby its own hand. This intention is now betraying itself openly in the\ntwo dioceses of Geneva and Basel. It is useless to speak of the rights\nof Catholics consecrated by treaties, to invoke the respect due to their\nconscience; useless is it to adduce in their behalf the religious\nequality which they scrupulously maintain in the cantons, such as Lucerne\nand Freyburg, where they have the superiority; useless to insist on their\npatriotism, and on their loyal submission to laws which do not encroach\non the domain of religion. No, there are no rights for Catholics, there\nis no justice for them; and when it is a question of attacking them, the\nend justifies the means.\n\nThis is no invention of ours. We will cite a few examples in support of\nour assertion.\n\nM. Teuscher in the canton of Bern, and M. Carteret at Geneva, have\nfounded churches to which they have assigned the name of Catholic, which\nthey support with unusual zeal. Now, in the journal of these churches,\nthe _D\u00e9mocratie catholique_, which is published at Bern, of the date of\nJanuary 2, is the following statement: \u201cUltramontanes are malefactors,\nand there is no liberty for malefactors.\u201d It may be objected, that these\nwords are merely the expression of an individual opinion. Let us listen\nthen to M. Carteret, speaking, about the same time, before the Grand\nCouncil of Geneva: \u201cUltramontanism is dangerous; it is necessary to\ncombat it, to make on it a war of extermination and without mercy; it is\naffectation to dream of being just and equitable with such an adversary.\u201d\nA little later on, in the same assembly, a credit was voted for the\nmaintenance of candidates for Catholic cures, whose rightful possessors\nhad been arbitrarily ejected; and when M. Vogt expressed his astonishment\nthat the canton should keep a tavern for liberal _abb\u00e9s_, a deputy\nexclaimed, \u201cWe shall act as we please.\u201d\n\nIt would seem impossible for cynicism to go beyond this. But no; the\nbrutality of despotism was able to surpass even it. At the moment\nwhen, in the canton of Soleure, the people were summoned to vote\nthe suppression of the secular foundations, of which we shall speak\npresently, one of their journals published the following: \u201cIf we should\nbe conquered, and the _blacks_ should defeat the measure, _we shall\nhandle the knife_.\u201d It sounds like a sinister echo of 1793.\n\nWhat can be the object of the persecutors? Is it the substitution of\nProtestantism for Catholicity? Scarcely. Protestants who really believe\nin their religion disapprove of these iniquities. The object is akin,\nrather, we may be sure, to the sentiment lately given utterance to by\nthe Pastor Lang of Zurich: \u201cWe are slowly but surely approaching the\nend towards which the development of our spiritual life is urging us,\nto wit, _the suppression and disappearance of all churches_.\u201d The same\nsentiment had been expressed during the debates on the federal revision\nby M. Welti. \u201cHe who would wish to be free must not belong to any church.\nNo church gives liberty. The _state_ alone gives that.\u201d In other words,\nthe ideal to be aimed at is the reign of the state over soul as well\nas body. After this, can we wonder at the cry of alarm issuing from a\nquarter not at least to be suspected of Catholic bias? It is a Protestant\njournal--_l\u2019Union jurassienne_--which exclaims, \u201cThe star of liberty\npales, the shadows of spiritual despotism are gathering around us.\u201d\nBut the cry is lost in the desert. Despotism throws those who exercise\nit into a kind of intoxication; every one of the excesses to which it\ncommits itself becomes the source of fresh ones. Its last word is\nproscription, when it is not the scaffold.\u2026 In the diocese of Basel the\ncrimes of liberalism have been perpetrated principally at Soleure, in the\nJura, and at Bern. We will review them successively.\n\nAt Soleure, the Benedictine monastery of Maria-Stein, the collegiate\nchurch of Schoenwerth, and that of S. Urs and S. Victor have been\noverthrown at one stroke.\n\nThe monastery of Maria-Stein was founded in 1085, and had cleared and\ncultivated the country. But the church can no more reckon upon the\ngratitude of its enemies than upon their justice. They determined to\nseize the property of the convent, to convert the building into a\nmadhouse, and to mock justice with the bestowal of a trifling alms on\nthe religious thus iniquitously dispossessed. At the first news of this\nproject, the ex-Father Hyacinthe again gave expression to the indignation\nhe had exhibited before on similar provocation, and sent to the abbot of\nthe monastery a protest against \u201cthis attack on property and religion.\u201d\n\nThe foundation of the collegiate church of Schoenwerth, situated near\nOlten, dates from the Xth century. It had only five canons, who served\nfour parishes, and gave instruction in the schools. That of S. Urs and S.\nVictor from the VIIIth. It was erected into a cathedral in 1828; when the\nresidence of the Bishop of Basel was transferred to Soleure. Its chapter\nhas kept perpetual watch for nearly a thousand years at the tombs of the\nTheban martyrs. These venerable memories arrested not the arms of the\nspoilers. What was wanted was to punish the canons of Schoenwerth and of\nSoleure for their loyalty to their bishop, and at the same time to get\npossession of the endowments they administered.\n\nConsequently, the suppression of the two collegiate churches, as well as\nof the monastery of Maria-Stein, was submitted to the popular vote. It\nwas adopted by 8,356 votes against 5,896. But when it is remembered that\nthe majority included about 3,000 Protestants, besides the manufacturing\npopulation of Olten, who are in complete subjection to the tyranny of\ntheir Freemason employers; that more than 3,000 timid Catholics abstained\nfrom voting, and that the women and children were not consulted, there\ncan remain no doubt that once again a Catholic majority has been\nsacrificed to a coalition of Protestants and free-thinkers.\n\nHowever it may be, this vote remarkably facilitated the object the\nliberals have had in view for some time, namely, of abolishing the\nchapter of Basel. This chapter consisted of canons from seven states of\nthe diocese--Bern, Basel, Thurgau, Aargau, Soleure, Zug, Lucerne. The\nstate of Soleure having suppressed its own, and the states of Aargau and\nBern being urged to do the same to theirs, the conference of the diocesan\nstates, on the 21st December, decreed the suppression of the chapter\nitself and the sale of its effects. The support of five of these states\nhad been procured. No heed was taken of the opposition of Lucerne and Zug.\n\nAnd it is asserted that it is in the name of religious liberty that\nSwiss liberalism has deprived the diocese of Basel of its bishop and\nits chapter! But what cares liberalism for the rights of Catholic\nconsciences? However, in thus decapitating the diocese it was carrying\nout a purpose on which it was inexorably bent. It had long resolved\nto create a national church calling itself Catholic, and it hugged the\nillusion that the suppression of the Catholic bishoprics would contribute\nto the success of this design. It is in pursuance of the same object that\nit opened in Bern, in the month of October, a faculty of Old Catholic\ntheology.\n\nThese facts display a complete change of tactics on the part of unbelief.\nIn the last century, Voltaire and his satellites tried to batter down\nthe church, without dreaming of putting anything in her place. They\nfailed. Their successors of to-day adopt another plan. It is to create\nanti-Catholic churches, calling themselves Catholic, to which they do not\nbelong, whose dogmas they abjure, and whose priests they despise. They\ntrust thus to satisfy the people, whilst retaining for themselves the\nbenefits of unbelief.\n\nNext, in the month of October, the government of Bern opened, in the\nfederal capital, a faculty of theology, which it called \u201cfaculty of\nCatholic theology,\u201d and it invited chiefly foreigners to occupy its\nchairs. It nominated dean of the faculty a German, that unfortunate Dr.\nFriedrich of Munich, who was amongst the first to follow D\u00f6llinger in\nhis perversity, and they appointed as his subordinates a few apostates\npicked up wherever they could find them. Eight students, almost all from\nthe canton of Soleure, the real focus of Swiss liberalism, were enrolled.\nWith such a contingent, the dream of a national church does not appear\ncertain to be realized. But the government of Bern flatters itself that\nin time the number of students will increase, and that it will thus have\nat its disposal submissive agents ready to assist it in its detestable\nundertaking, the perversion of the Jura.\n\nThe Jura! It is impossible to cast a glance around that unfortunate\ncountry without being filled with gratitude to God for the religious\nheroism it perseveres in displaying in the presence of a powerful and\ntreacherous enemy who is striving to crush it utterly.\n\nIt is notorious that the ninety-seven parishes of the Jura have been\narbitrarily reconstructed by the government of Bern; and that, after\nhaving reduced them to the number of twenty-five, it finally increased\nthem to forty-two. Nothing has been left undone to place at the head of\nevery one of these an apostate priest. But in spite of all its efforts\nit has only been able to muster seventeen. Besides, what trouble do the\nrecruits swept up from all the by-ways of Europe cause them! Some have\nalready sent in their resignation.\n\nThus it was with Giaut, curate of Bonfol, who, in a public letter\nannounced his abandonment of the mission he had assumed, \u201cbecause he saw\nno immediate prospect of the realization, in the Jura, of his aspirations\nand ideas.\u201d Of the same kind was the course pursued by d\u2019Omer Camerle,\nwho, on his withdrawal, declared that the new clergy, \u201cutterly despised\nby the liberals and execrated by the ultramontanes, were attempting a\nwork which was entirely useless if not contemptible.\u201d Others have been\nobliged to escape, or had to evade justice.\n\nWe have before narrated the misfortunes of Rupplin. His rival Naudot,\narrested for abduction of a minor, was condemned to six months\u2019\nimprisonment. In his defence, made by himself, he demanded, \u201cAm I more\nguilty than Giaut, _cur\u00e9_ of Bonfol, who calls himself Guiot; than\nChoisel, _cur\u00e9_ of Courgenay, whose real name is Chastel; than D\u00e9ramey,\nwho calls himself Pipy?\u201d We must, however, state to his credit that he\nabjured his errors and returned into the bosom of the church.\n\nAt Bienne, the intruder, St. Ange Li\u00e8vre, threw off the mask, and\nmarried a Protestant named Tsantr\u00e9-Boll. The union was blessed by M.\nSaintes, a Protestant minister, after an address by M. Hurtault, from\nGeneva, who complimented his colleague \u201cfor having had the courage to\nthrow off the yoke of bondage imposed upon him by the Roman papacy.\u201d\nThis was overshooting the mark. The intruders may commit all imaginable\nescapades without provoking attention. But they must not marry. It\nreveals prematurely the programme of the free-thinkers of Bern, who, in\norder to conciliate the population of the Jura, declare that they have\nno intention to meddle with the dogmas of the church. Accordingly, the\n\u201cProvisionary Catholic Synodal Commission,\u201d in a letter addressed to\n\u201cMM. the curates of the Jura,\u201d \u201cseverely rebuked the deplorable example\ngiven by M. St. Ange Li\u00e8vre, and promised to demand from the authorities\na remedy, which could not be refused if another member of the clergy\nshould venture to violate the venerable laws of the church.\u201d Ludicrous\nimbecility! They will try to hinder for the future a renewal of these\nwanton freaks, but they respect what has been already perpetrated. And\nso M. Li\u00e8vre and his Protestant wife remain at the head of the parish of\nBienne!\n\nBut do any of the intruded meet with success in their propaganda? No! At\nAlle, Salis rings the bell for Masses which he does not say. At Bienne,\nonly twenty or thirty persons attend the service of St. Ange Li\u00e8vre. At\nDel\u00e9mont, the chief place of the district, enjoying a radical priest, a\nradical president of the tribunal, radical functionaries, so empty is the\nchurch usurped by Portaz-Grassis that, on the 7th of January, the council\nof the parish gave vent to the following cry of distress in a circular\naddressed to \u201cLiberal Catholics\u201d: \u201cThe religious question in the Jura\nbeing intimately associated with the political one, it is important, now\nthat our national church is constituted on solid and legal foundations,\nthat all liberals should support this church and sustain the majority\nof the Bernese people in the steps that have been taken. [It must be\nremembered that the majority of the Bernese people is Protestant.]\n\n\u201cYet is our worship little frequented, and our enemies proclaim\neverywhere that our church is deserted.\n\n\u201cIn presence of this carelessness--we may say, even of this culpable\nindifference--we make a last appeal to the patriotic sentiments of the\nliberal Catholics of Del\u00e9mont, beseeching them to assist more regularly\nat the Sunday Mass, and above all to induce their wives and children to\nbe present at it. If Catholics [!] will not show more zeal in supporting\nthe liberal curate and the council of the parish, the latter will resign\n_in globo_ the charge entrusted to it.\u201d\n\nNothing, however, discourages the government of Bern, and in conformity\nwith the law of worship, voted some months ago, it has obliged the new\nparishes of the Jura to proceed to the formation of parochial councils,\nand to the nomination, or rather confirmation, of the intruding curates.\nBut here, also, what deception! Out of 12,000 electors, only the tenth\npart voted. In 28 communes, not a single elector presented himself at\nthe ballot. In the others, the number was laughably small. At St. Imier,\nfor instance, out of 1,933 electors, only eight answered the summons. At\nMoustier, out of 1,429, only 24. No less significant are the numbers of\nvotes polled for the elected curates:\n\nFontenais: M. d\u2019Abbadie (Frenchman) had 77 votes out of 1,651 electors.\n\nCourtemaiche: M. Coffignal (Frenchman) had 15 votes out of 1,683 electors.\n\nUndervelier: M. Salis (Italian) had 13 votes out of 1,046 electors.\n\nCourroux: M. Maestrelli (Italian) had 60 votes out of 1,557 electors.\n\nRoggenburg: M. Oser (German) had 40 votes out of 465 electors.\n\nBislach: M. Schoenberger (German) had 33 votes out of 669 electors.\n\nDittengen: M. Fuchs (Austrian) had 33 votes out of 667 electors.\n\nBienne: M. St. Ange Li\u00e8vre (Frenchman) had 50 votes out of 1,040 electors.\n\nImagine the Bernese government being eager to confirm nominations made\nunder such circumstances!\n\nAs to the Catholics, they continue to assemble in barns and cart-sheds,\nand there to lift with faith their hands towards heaven, and to rest\nfirm in their fidelity. This attitude only aggravates the rage of their\npersecutors. We have already spoken of the suppression of the Ursulines\nof Porrentruy. The last remaining religious congregation in that town\ncould not long escape the same fate. It was that of the Sisters of\nCharity of Ste. Ursanne, who had for twenty years ministered in the\nhospital for the poor of the chief town of the Bernese Jura. They began\nwith seizing their chapel and handing it over to schism. Then, without\nany pretext, they cast into prison the Superior and two of the Sisters,\nwhere they remained four days. At length, one fine morning, they were\ninformed that they must leave the place within four hours; at the\nexpiration of which period, if they had not left, \u201cthey would be forcibly\nexpelled.\u201d The execution soon followed the sentence; and these religious\nladies, whose presence had only been known by good works, were, in their\nturn, compelled to tread the path of exile!\n\nIn spite of the implacable intolerance of their enemies, the Jurassians\ndo not cease petitioning the federal authorities; and to the number of\n9,000 they have demanded the restitution of their churches and of their\necclesiastical property, the re-establishment of the Catholic worship,\nand the recall of the 97 priests unjustly expelled. The restitution\nof the churches, and the re-establishment of the Catholic as a public\nworship, have been flatly refused, on the plea that there cannot exist\nin the canton any other public Catholic worship than that established\nby the law of January, 1874! But the federal council, notwithstanding\nits notorious hostility, shrunk from an open and avowed approbation of\nthe ostracism of the faithful priests; and it requested of the Bernese\ngovernment an explanation of the reasons which, in its opinion, justified\nthe continuance of that rigorous measure; reserving to itself to give a\nsubsequent decision on the appeal which had been made to it.\n\nOpinions are divided as to the real intentions of the federal council,\nand at the moment when we write the definitive decision has not been\nannounced. But whatever may be the fate of the appeal, the situation of\nthe church in the Jura will remain no less lamentable.\n\nWhilst the Jurassian population give, thus, an example of fidelity worthy\nof the first ages of the Christian era, the tempest has burst upon the\nCatholic parish of the town of Bern.\n\nThis parish possesses a church built by the late Mgr. Baud, predecessor\nof the present curate, M. Perroulaz, and paid for by the alms of the\nCatholics of the entire country. The schismatics cast longing eyes upon\nit; but their designs were for a while impeded by the fear of displeasing\nthe ambassadors. This fear was unfounded. For since the overthrow of\ngovernments caused by the detestable policy of Napoleon III., there is no\nlonger an Europe; and everywhere violence and injustice, having nothing\nto fear from the once protective influence of the great powers, commit\nthemselves to every license. It is thus, then, they set about to compass\ntheir end.\n\nFirst, an assembly of the parish was convoked to elect a parochial\ncouncil. But as such an assembly owes its existence to the late law of\nworship, and as the faithful Catholics could not consequently take any\npart in it, the council was chosen by one hundred out of three hundred\nand sixty electors. Scarcely was it installed when it received a request\nfrom the professors of the Old Catholic faculty of Bern, that the\nchurch might be placed at their disposition, for their Masses, worship,\nand preachings. It eagerly acceded to this request, and desired M.\nPerroulaz to open the gates of the church to the schismatic priests of\nthe university. He refused. They ordered him to give up the keys. He\ndid nothing of the kind. They went to his house and took them from him;\nand on Sunday, 28th February, Dr. Friedrich and his accomplices took\npossession of the sanctuary. M. Perroulaz, to avoid scandal, assembled\nhis parishioners for the celebration of their worship in the great\nhall of the Museum. Thither they flocked in crowds. Foremost amongst\nthe worshippers were the ambassadors of France, Austria, Italy, Spain,\nPortugal, Brazil, etc. Thirty years ago, such a demonstration of the\ndiplomatic body would not have remained without results. But in the\nyear of grace 1875, \u201cmight makes right,\u201d and the petty tyrants of Bern,\nsupported by certain foreign cabinets, satiate with impunity their hatred\nof the church.\n\nBut even this did not content them. It was not sufficient for them to\nhave deprived Catholics of their church. They wanted, further, to compel\nM. Perroulaz to say Mass in it together with the apostates. The Council\nof State designed, in this way, to place him in a position in which they\nmight be able, in due form of law, to relieve him of his functions. On\nhis refusal it decided to institute a process of revocation; and, pending\nthe trial, it suspended him! Then he was driven out of the presbytery,\nand a Bavarian impostor was installed in his place. What! After having\ndespoiled the faithful of the sanctuary built by their own hands and\nwith their own money, they command them, besides, to make common cause\nwith renegades, and make it a crime in their pastor to assemble them\nelsewhere to adore God according to their conscience. At Rome, under the\npagan emperors, the Christians had the freedom of the Catacombs; at Bern,\nin 1875, even such freedom would be grudged by the ingrates whose cradle\nwas enlightened by the rays of divine truth!\n\nAt Geneva affairs are as gloomy as in the canton of Bern. Last August,\nat the moment when we were relating the high-handed proceedings of the\ngovernment, M. Loyson had just distinguished himself by breaking his\nconnection with the lay chiefs of the schism. \u201cI will not engage,\u201d he\nsaid, \u201cin useless discussions with men who confound liberalism with\nradicalism, Catholicism with the _Profession of Faith_ of the Savoyard\nvicar.\u201d The poor apostate would, we suspect, have been but too glad to\nreturn to the venerable church which received his first oaths. But how\ndispose of Mme. Loyson and the little Emmanuel? He continued therefore\nschismatic, and he announced that he should remain at Geneva \u201cuntil the\nelection of a bishop, who, with his synod, was the only authority,\u201d he\nadded, \u201cwhich he could recognize in the religious order.\u201d In pursuance of\nthis secession, he founded a free worship, which has a small number of\nsectaries as its following.\n\nAs to the official church, its misfortunes are beyond calculation. The\ntown of Geneva itself was favored with three curates, each receiving\nfrom four to five thousand francs a year, and a few vicars. After\nthe retirement of M. Loyson, the second of the three curates--M.\nHurtault--left, in order to occupy one of the chairs of the Old Catholic\nfaculty at Bern. It was, no doubt, to console the new church in these\nbereavements, that one of the vicars, M. Vergoin, in imitation of his\naccomplices, took to himself a wife in the person of a Freyburg damsel.\n\nHowever, the law of the organization of religious worship enjoined on all\nthe curates and vicars of the canton the oath of obedience to the laws.\nThe Council of State shrunk for a long time from the application of this\nprovision in the rural communes. At length, yielding to the impatience\nof the \u201cCatholic Superior Council,\u201d it decreed that the oath should be\ntaken on the 4th September by the seventeen curates and the two vicars\nofficiating in the country.\n\nOn the appointed day, a large crowd assembled around the entrance of the\ntown-hall. Not a priest summoned presented himself. They, too, were proud\nto wear the device of Mgr. Lachat: _Potius mori quam f\u0153dari!_--\u201cDeath\nrather than shame!\u201d\n\nImmediately afterwards, the Council of State pronounced the aforesaid\ncures vacant, and suppressed the pay of their occupiers from October 31.\nThis measure was communicated to the \u201cCatholic Superior Council,\u201d with\nthe view of its filling the vacancies.\n\nGreat was the embarrassment of the latter. As a commencement, it demanded\nof the Council of State the power of disposing of the country churches\nfrom the 31st October. The reply was that it had only to apply to the\nmunicipal authorities. It then devised the plan of publishing in the\njournals, amongst the advertisements, a notice to the effect that \u201cthe\nregistry was open at the office of the superior council for the offices\nof curate and vicar in twenty-two parishes of the canton, which had\nbecome vacant in consequence of death, dismissal, and revocation.\u201d When\nat length it had found a candidate, it resolved to present him to the\nparish of Grand-Saconnex, one of the nearest to Geneva, and which on\nthat account appeared to it to be ripe for schism. But only thirty-three\nelectors out of one hundred and sixty-six responded to the call. It was\nless than a third, and the election was abortive in consequence.\n\nSuch a check was suggestive. The measure decreed on the 4th September\nwas not put in force, except that the salaries of the faithful curates\nremained suppressed. But they revenged themselves by annoying the\nCatholics in every possible way.\n\nWe will cite two instances.\n\nAn Old Catholic interment having taken place at Hermance, after several\nprovocations, the population threw some stones on the coffin of the\ndefunct. The blame was immediately laid on the curate, and he was\nexpelled from the canton on the pretext that \u201che troubled the public\npeace,\u201d said the decree, \u201cby his preachings, and excited hatred of one\nanother among the citizens.\u201d No accusation could be more serious than\nthis. For, indeed, had he been guilty of it, it was before the courts he\nshould have been brought. But all that was wanted then was to punish the\nparishioners for having, a few days before, given an ill reception to two\nintruders who had attempted to pervert the village.\n\nThe second is a yet sadder incident. One fine day, an Old Catholic\ninhabitant of Geneva, named Maurice, who lived close to the Old Catholic\nchurch, took it into his head to have his infant child baptized by the\nintruding priest, Marchal, in the Catholic Church of Compesi\u00e8res, used\nfor two communes, Bardonnex and Plan-les-Ouates. On the arrival of the\ncort\u00e9ge, the mayors of these communes, habited in their scarfs of office,\nand surrounded by their subordinates, opposed its entry into the church,\nand forced it to beat a retreat. At the news of this there was great\nconsternation at Geneva.\n\nThe whim of M. Maurice was not only a violation of the liberty of\nreligion; it was a wanton provocation, since he belonged to the commune\nof Geneva, and could have had his child baptized in the church of S.\nGermain, of which the schism had taken possession. No matter. The\nCouncil of State took advantage of the incident, and ordered the mayors\nof Compesi\u00e8res to keep the parish church open for baptism of the little\nMaurice. At the same time it ordered thither some squadrons of gendarmes\nand of carabineers, and, thanks to this display of the public force, a\nlocksmith was able to force open the doors of the sacred edifice. They\nhad it sealed with the borough-seal, and a huge placard was stuck on it,\nbearing the following inscription: \u201cProperty is inviolable.\u201d Before the\nprofanation, a delegate from the communal authorities of Bardonnex and of\nPlan-les-Ouates had communicated to the invaders a final protest.\n\nAny commentary would be superfluous. We limit ourselves to quoting\nthe following words of the _Journal de Gen\u00e8ve_: \u201cWhat has passed at\nCompesi\u00e8res has but too quickly justified the mournful forebodings\ninspired by the violent policy which is growing from bad to worse in\nofficial quarters. We persist in demanding that a stop be put to this\nsowing the wind at the risk of reaping the whirlwind.\u201d But the object\nhad been achieved. The Catholics had been outraged, and a pretext had\nbeen made for dismissing M. de Montfalcon, mayor of Plan-les-Ouates and\npresident of \u201cl\u2019Union des Campagnes.\u201d\n\nIt appears, however, that this was not enough. In the bosom of the\n\u201cCatholic Superior Council,\u201d M. H\u00e9ridier exclaimed: \u201cWe must follow\nthe course of the Bernese government.\u201d Such bitter hatred can only\nbe accounted for by the negative results of the country enterprise.\nThe firmness of the Catholics, in fact, increases, instead of growing\nfainter, and they are unanimous in adopting the sentiments of a speaker\nof the \u201cUnion des Campagnes,\u201d who exclaimed lately: \u201cWhatever happens\nwe will not be found wanting. If they despoil us of our churches, they\ncan only take the walls; they cannot take our souls. We will follow our\nstripped and proscribed altars even into the poverty of a barn or the\ndarkness of a cavern. If they hunt our priests from their presbyteries,\nwe will offer them an asylum under our modest and friendly roofs. If they\nrob them of their salaries, we will share with them the wages of our\nlabor and the bread of our tables.\u201d\n\nA special cause of irritation to the liberals and free-thinkers was the\ncircumstance that scarcely had the Catholics been despoiled of the church\nof S. Germain before they bought, to replace it, the Temple Unique,\nformerly occupied by the Freemasons, and which they dedicated to the\nSacred Heart. Accordingly, no sooner had the elections for the renewal of\nthe Grand Council given a majority to M. Carteret, before that gentleman\nset to work to inflict a fresh blow upon the Catholics, by robbing them\nof the Church of Notre Dame. This magnificent church was built in 1857\nby means of subscription collected throughout the Christian world by\nMgr. Mermillod, and M. Dunoyer, the dismissed curate of Geneva. The\nsubscriptions had been given, we need scarcely say, on the faith of the\nCatholic worship, and that alone, being celebrated in the church; and for\nseventeen years no other had been celebrated there.\n\nFor a long while M. Carteret and the free-thinking liberals had been\ncasting longing looks on this prey. They had been impeded in their\ndesigns by energetic resistance, and, amongst others, by that of the\nex-Father Hyacinthe. But at last they lost patience, and at their\ninstigation, backed by the pressure of a populace whose worst passions\nthey had inflamed, the Grand Council, at the beginning of January,\nadopted an order of the day requiring the prompt execution of the law of\n2d November, 1850.\n\nThis law, which had bestowed upon Catholics the land on which the sacred\nedifice is built, enacted that the administration of the church should\nbe entrusted to a commission of five members, chosen by the Catholics of\nthe parish of Geneva. By demanding the putting in force of this clause,\nthey hoped to form a commission of Old Catholics who would hand over the\nchurch to the radicals concealed under a schismatic mask.\n\nWe do not intend to discuss here the question of right; although it\nappears clear to us that they could not justly turn against Catholics\na stipulation which had been made expressly in their favor. The mere\nequity of the case should have sufficed to prevent, under existing\ncircumstances, the application of the clause. This was the view taken\nby two distinguished Protestants who had not abandoned all regard for\njustice--M. Naville and M. de la Rive. The latter, in a remarkable\nproduction, observed: \u201cThere is not, I think, an impartial mind, which,\nlooking at the matter from the point of view of simple equity, will not\ndecide in favor of that one of the two churches which has borne the whole\nof the large outlay by which the value of the original grant has been\nincreased more than tenfold. The spot on which now stands one of the most\nsplendid monuments of our city would be still a waste space but for the\nsums collected and furnished precisely by those persons whose possession\nof it is now disputed. Notre Dame is exclusively the work of the priests\nand faithful of the Catholic Church. That is a notorious, undisputed\nfact.\u201d\n\nThere could be no reply to language so true and striking. Moreover, one\nof those who had collected the subscriptions, in a published letter,\nstated that \u201cthe principal part of the sums employed in the erection of\nthe building had been subscribed by Roman Catholics throughout the world,\nand that he could assert and prove that those who are separated from the\nCatholic Church had nothing whatsoever to do with its construction.\u201d\n\nBut these protests were useless. Had, however, the sectaries the pretence\nthat they were in a majority in Geneva, and that they had need of Notre\nDame? By no means. And the _Chronique radical_ remarked it, demanding:\n\u201cWhat will you do with the church of Notre Dame? Can you fill it?\u201d\nIndeed, no! They will never be able to fill it. But the object was to\nwrest it from the faithful--from those who flocked to it in crowds,\nwhose registry records, in 1874, 260 Baptisms, 170 Burials, 60 Marriages,\n174 First Communions, and 30,000 Communions of adults; and for whom five\nMasses were celebrated every Sunday. Here, once more the end justifies\nthe means.\n\nThe Council of State, moved thus to put in force the law of 1850,\nconvoked the electoral body, deciding, as a preliminary, that the\ncitizens of Geneva alone should take part in the election. To understand\nthe importance of this qualification it will suffice to observe that\nthere are in the canton of Geneva 25,000 Catholic foreigners,[147] and\nthat, by depriving them of the right of voting, the Catholic strength\nwould be seriously weakened.\n\nIn spite of this subterfuge, there was every prospect of victory for\nthe faithful, when, on the very eve of the elections, the 6th February,\nduring the afternoon, the number of electors which, in the morning,\nstood at 1,500 only, was raised to 1,924. Whence these recruits at the\nlast moment had been procured may be easily conjectured. The _Courrier\nde Gen\u00e8ve_ asserted that it saw come to the poll \u201ca band of unknown\nindividuals who appeared to be formed in brigades.\u201d\n\nThanks to this reinforcement, the free-thinking list obtained a majority\nof 187 votes.\n\nThe commission thus elected immediately entered upon its duties, and\ninstead of taking their church away from the Catholics, it hurriedly\ndecided that \u201cthe inhabitants of the right bank of the Rhone and of the\nLake, who belong to the religion recognized by the state, should be at\nliberty to perform in the temple the ceremonies of Baptism, Marriage, and\nBurial,\u201d and that it reserved for itself to take what steps it might deem\nadvisable to take against ecclesiastics who should give occasion to just\ncomplaints, specially in aught that concerns the public peace, obedience\nto the laws, and the respect due to magistrates.\n\nThese resolutions were on the point of being executed when Mgr.\nMermillod, M. Dunoyer, as representatives of the subscribers, and M.\nLany, rector of Notre Dame, claimed, before the courts, the ownership of\nthe edifice.\n\nDo judges still exist at Geneva? It remains to be seen.\n\nBut this was not all. On the 6th April, at five o\u2019clock in the morning,\nthe recently-elected commission had the doors of the church broken open\nby a locksmith, protected by a squad of gendarmes and police-agents;\nafter which seals were placed on the doors, and further worship\ninterdicted!\n\nThe situation becomes thus more and more critical. M. Carteret envies\nM. Bismarck his laurels, and, supported by all that is evil in Geneva,\nwe must expect to see him rush headlong to the utmost extremities. Far\ndistant, indeed, is the time when one could talk of Swiss liberty. The\nviolence of every description which has gone on increasing in the old\nHelvetic land demonstrates that despotism can run riot as savagely under\na republican form of government as under any other; and that they who cry\nout the most lustily against the tyranny of kings are themselves tyrants\nof the worst kind when they have power in their hands.\n\nIt is clear that in the course they are pursuing the Swiss radicals\nwill not suffer themselves to be distanced by any one. They have formed\na vast association, called the _Volksverein_, at one of whose meetings,\nheld at Olten last autumn, a programme was voted containing the following\nclause: \u201cThe moment has arrived for the application of the principles\nwhich are the foundation of the new federal party. In order to crush\nfor ever the influence of Ultramontanism it is not enough to emancipate\nfrom the church the individual as such, it is necessary that churches\nthemselves should be governed democratically and nationally and that\nevery hierarchical institution be suppressed, as dangerous to the state\nand to liberty; and that, by virtue of Art. 50 of the new constitution,\nthe existing bishoprics be suppressed by the federal assembly.\u201d The\nhypocrites! They dare to take the name of liberty upon their lips! True,\nthe \u201cNational Convention,\u201d and the Paris \u201cCommune,\u201d they too scribbled\nthe word everywhere!\n\nThe demonstrations, the principal of which we have indicated, must end\nin the definitive constitution of the projected national church, before\nwhich all will be expected to bow the knee, as the pagans demanded of the\nprimitive church to adore their false gods. Active negotiations for this\nobject are being carried on between five states of the ancient diocese\nof Basel, the cantons of Zurich, Schaffhausen, Ticino, Geneva, etc. It\nhas been decided to have a bishop. All will be required to submit to\nthis bishop. But he will have a superior in the form of a synod composed\nof sectaries of all creeds or of no creed, and these will enjoy, in his\nregard, the right of deposition. It is asserted that M. Reinkens will\nconsecrate the new bishop. The consecration of an apostate does not share\nin the promise of indefectibility.\n\nAnyhow, the Old Catholics will not succeed in erecting a serious edifice.\nTo found a church there are needed faith, zeal, devotedness, religious\nconviction. Radicals and free-thinkers have none of these.\n\nWithout belief of any kind, their one aim is the overthrow of all\nreligion. Let them, then, seize our churches--let them decree the\nformation of an ecclesiastical hierarchy! The profaned churches will be\ndeserted, their priests will be despised, and again they will be taught\nthe lesson that the Living God does not preside over schismatics and\nheretics!\n\n\nCOFFIN FLOWERS.\n\n    And doth Saint Peter ope the gates\n      Of heaven to such a toll?\n    Or do you think this show of flowers\n      Will deck my naked soul?\n\n    Perhaps you wish the folks to know\n      How much you can afford;\n    And prove upon my coffin-lid\n      You don\u2019t \u201clet out,\u201d nor board.\n\n    Oh! cast an humble flower or two\n      Upon my funeral bier;\n    And drop upon my lifeless form\n      One true, love-speaking tear.\n\n    But take away these shop-made things,\n      They mock my sighs and groans;\n    And soon, like me, will rot, and show\n      Their framework, like my bones.\n\n    God only asks if my poor soul\n      A wedding garment wears.\n    A bridal wreath? Yes, make _it_ up\n      Of flowers. God\u2019s flowers are prayers!\n\n\nARE YOU MY WIFE?\n\nBY THE AUTHOR OF \u201cPARIS BEFORE THE WAR,\u201d \u201cNUMBER THIRTEEN,\u201d \u201cPIUS VI.,\u201d\nETC.\n\nCHAPTER VII.\n\nTHE SEARCH RENEWED.\n\nEverybody was late next day at the Court; everybody except Clide de\nWinton, whose waking dreams being brighter than any that his pillow\ncould suggest, had deserted it at a comparatively early hour, and had\nbeen for a stroll in the park before breakfast. He re-entered the house\nwhistling an air from _Don Giovanni_, and went into the library, where he\nexpected to find Sir Simon. The baronet generally came in there to read\nhis letters when there were people staying in the house. The library was\na noble room with its six high pointed windows set in deep mullions, and\nits walls wainscoted with books on the east and west--rich-clad volumes\nof crimson and brown, with the gold letters of their names relieving the\nsombre hues like thin streaks of light, while at intervals great old\nflorentines in folios \u201cgarmented in white\u201d made a break in the general\nsolemnity. The end opposite the windows was left clear for a group of\nfamily portraits; and beneath these, as Clide burst into the room,\nthere stood a living group, conversing together in low tones, and with\nanxious, harassed faces. Mrs. de Winton, contrary to her custom, had on\na gray cashmere dressing-gown, whose soft, clinging drapery gave her\ntall figure some resemblance to a classical statue; she was leaning her\narm on the high mantel-piece, with an open letter in her hand, which\nshe was apparently discussing with deep annoyance, and with a cloud of\nincredulity on her handsome, cold features; the admiral was striking the\nmarble with his clenched hand, and looking steadily at the bronze clock,\nas if vehemently remonstrating with it for marking ten minutes to eleven;\nSir Simon was standing with his hands in his pockets, his back against\nthe base of Cicero\u2019s bust, very nearly as white as the Roman orator\nhimself.\n\nThe three figures started when Clide opened the door. He felt\ninstantaneously that something was amiss, but there was a momentary pause\nbefore he said:\n\n\u201cHas anything happened?\u201d\n\nMrs. de Winton, seeing that no one else spoke, came forward: \u201cNothing\nthat we are certain of; but your uncle has received a letter that has\nshocked and startled us a good deal, although it seems on the face of\nit quite impossible that the thing can be true. But you will be brave,\nClide, and meet it as becomes a Christian.\u201d She spoke calmly, but her\nvoice trembled a little.\n\n\u201cFor heaven\u2019s sake what is it?\u201d said Clide, a horrible thought darting\nthrough him like a sting. Why did his uncle keep looking away from him?\n\u201cUncle, what is it?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is a letter from Ralph Cromer--you remember your uncle\u2019s old\nvalet?--he is in London now; he was at Glanworth on that dreadful night.\u2026\nMy dear boy,\u201d laying her hand kindly on his arm, \u201cit may be a mere fancy\nof his; in fact, it seems impossible for a moment to admit of its being\nanything else; but Cromer says he has seen her.\u2026\u201d\n\n\u201cSeen whom? My dead wife \u2026 Isabel! The man is mad!\u201d\n\n\u201cIt must be a delusion; we are certain it is; but still it has given us a\nshock,\u201d said his stepmother.\n\n\u201cWhat does the man say? Show me his letter!\u201d\n\nShe handed it to him.\n\n    \u201cHONORED MASTER: I am hard set to believe it; but if it an\u2019t\n    her, it\u2019s her ghost as I seen this mornin\u2019 comin\u2019 out of a\n    house in Wimpole Street, and though I ran after her as hard as\n    my bad leg \u2019ud let me, she jumped into a cab and was off before\n    I could get another look of her. It was the young missis,\n    Master Clide\u2019s wife, as you buried eight year ago, Sir, as I\u2019m\n    a live man; unless I went blind of a sudden and saw wrong,\n    which an\u2019t likely, as you know to the last my eyes was strong\n    and far-seein\u2019. I went back to the house, but the man could\n    tell me nothin\u2019 except as all sorts of people keep comin\u2019 and\n    goin\u2019 with the toothache, in and out, his employer bein\u2019 a\n    dentist, and too busy to be disturbed with questions as didn\u2019t\n    pay. I lose no time in acquaintin\u2019 you of, honored master, and\n    remain yours dutifully to command,\n\n                                                       RALPH CROMER.\u201d\n\nThere was a dead silence in the room while Clide read the letter. Every\none of the six eyes was fixed on him eagerly. He crushed the paper in his\nhand, and sat down without uttering a word.\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t let yourself be scared too quickly, De Winton,\u201d said Sir Simon;\n\u201cit is perfectly clear to my mind that the thing is a mere imagination of\nCromer\u2019s; he\u2019s nearly in his dotage; he sees somebody who bears a strong\nlikeness to a person he knew nearly eight years ago, and he jumps at the\nconclusion that it is that person.\u201d\n\nClide made no answer to this, but turned round and faced his uncle, who\nstill stood with his hand clenched stolidly on the mantel-piece.\n\n\u201cUncle, what do you think of it?\u201d he said hoarsely.\n\nThe admiral walked deliberately towards the sofa and sat down beside his\nnephew. Before he spoke he held out his horny palm, and grasped Clide\u2019s\nhand tightly. The action was too significant not to convey to Clide all\nit was meant--perhaps unconsciously--to express.\n\nThe admiral did not believe the story to be the phantom of dotage; he\nbelieved Cromer had seen Isabel.\n\n\u201cMy boy,\u201d he said, speaking in a harsh, abrupt tone, as if the words were\nbeing dragged out of him, \u201cI can say nothing until we have investigated\nthe matter. An hour ago I would have sworn it was absurd, impossible. I\nwould have said, with an oath, it cannot be true. I saw her laid in her\ncoffin and buried at St. Val\u00e9ry. But I might have sworn falsely. Several\ndays had elapsed between the death and the burial; the features were\nswollen, scarcely recognizable. I took it perhaps too readily for granted\nthat they were hers; I ought to have looked closer and longer; but I\nshrank from looking at all; I only glanced; they showed me the hair; it\nwas the same length and apparently the same color, deep jet black; the\nheight too corresponded. This, as well as all the collateral evidence,\nsatisfied me at once as to the identity. It may be that I was too rash,\ntoo anxious to be convinced.\u201d\n\nClide was silent for a few moments. Then he said:\n\n\u201cWhere did the dentist live that gave us the clew before?\u201d\n\n\u201cIn Wimpole Street.\u201d\n\nClide drew away his hand quickly from his uncle\u2019s with a visible shudder.\nThe coincidence had done its work with the others before he came in. An\ninarticulate exclamation, full of passionate emotion of some sort, broke\nfrom him.\n\n\u201cCome, come,\u201d said Sir Simon, striding towards the window, \u201cit\u2019s sheer\nnonsense to take for granted that the house is burnt down because there\u2019s\na smell of fire. The coincidences are strange, very singular certainly;\nbut such things happen every day. I stick to my first impression that\nit\u2019s nothing but a delusion of Cromer\u2019s in the first instance, to which\nthe chance similarity of the dentist\u2019s address gives a color of reality\ntoo faint to be worth more than it actually is. You must go up to town at\nonce, and clear away the mistake; it\u2019s too monstrous to be anything else.\u201d\n\nHe spoke in a very determined manner, as if he were too thoroughly\nconvinced himself to doubt of convincing others. Clide made a resolute\neffort to be convinced.\n\n\u201cYes, you say truly; it\u2019s unreasonable to accept the story without\nfurther evidence. I will go in search of it without an hour\u2019s delay.\nUncle, you will come with me?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, my boy, yes; we will go together; we must start in about an hour\nfrom this\u201d--pulling out his watch--\u201cmeantime, come in and have your\nbreakfast; it wont help matters to travel on an empty stomach.\u201d\n\nMrs. de Vinton left the room hurriedly; the others were following; but\nClide had weightier things on his mind than breakfast; he closed the\ndoor after his uncle and turned round, facing Sir Simon.\n\nThe latter was the first to speak.\n\n\u201cHas anything definite passed between you and Franceline?\u201d\n\nIt was precisely to speak about this that he had detained Sir\nSimon, yet when the baronet broached the subject in this frank,\nstraight-to-the-point way, he answered him almost savagely: \u201cWhat\u2019s\nthe use of reminding me of her now! As if the thought were not already\ndriving me mad!\u201d\n\n\u201cI must speak of it. Whatever misery may be in store for the rest of\nus, I am responsible for her share in it. I insist upon knowing how far\nthings have gone between you. Have you distinctly committed yourself?\u201d\n\n\u201cIf following a woman like her shadow, and hanging on every word she\nsays, and telling her by every look and tone that he worships the ground\nshe walks on--if you call that distinctly committing myself, I shouldn\u2019t\nthink you needed to ask.\u201d\n\n\u201cHave you asked her to be your wife?\u201d\n\n\u201cNot in so many words.\u201d\n\n\u201cDoes she care for you? De Winton, be honest with me. This is no time for\nsqueamishness. Speak out to me as man to man. I feel towards this young\ngirl as if she were my own child. I have known all along how it was with\nyou. But how about her? Have I guessed right--does she love you?\u201d\n\n\u201cGod help me! God help us both!\u201d And with this passionate cry Clide\nturned away and, hiding his face in his hands, let himself fall into a\nchair.\n\n\u201cGod help you, my poor lad! And God forgive me!\u201d muttered Sir Simon.\n\nThe accent of self-reproach in which the prayer was uttered smote Clide\nto the heart; it stirred all that was noble and unselfish within him,\nand in the midst of his overwhelming anguish bade him forget himself to\ncomfort his friend.\n\n\u201cYou have nothing to reproach yourself with; you acted like a true\nfriend, like a father to me. You meant to make me the happiest of men,\nto give me a treasure that I never could be worthy of. God bless you for\nit!\u201d He held out his hand, and grasped Sir Simon\u2019s. \u201cNo, nobody is to\nblame; it is my own destiny that pursues me. I thought I had lived it\ndown; but I was mistaken. I am never to live it down. I could bear it if\nit fell upon myself alone. I had grown used to it. But that it should\nfall upon her! What has she done to deserve it?\u2026 What do I not deserve\nfor bringing this curse upon her?\u201d He rose up with flashing eye, his\nwhole frame quivering with passion--he struck out against the air with\nboth arms, as if striving to burst some invisible, unendurable bond.\n\nSir Simon started back affrighted. Kind-hearted, easy-going Sir Simon had\nnever experienced the overmastering force of passion, whether of anger\nor grief, love or joy; his was one of those natures that when the storm\ncomes lie down and let it sweep over them. He was brought now for the\nfirst time in his life in contact with the spectacle of one who did not\nbend under the tempest, but rose up in frantic defiance, breasting and\nresisting it. He quailed before the sight; he could not make a sign or\nfind a word to say. But the transient paroxysm of madness spent itself,\nand after a few minutes Clide said, hopelessly yet fiercely:\n\n\u201cSpeak to me, why don\u2019t you, Harness?\u201d Emotion swept away his habitual\ntone of respect towards the man who might have been his father. \u201cHelp me\nto help her! What can I do to stand between her and this misery? I must\nsee her before I go, and what in Heaven\u2019s name shall I say to her?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou shall not see her,\u201d said Sir Simon; \u201cyou would not think of such a\nthing if you were in your right mind; but you are mad, De Winton. Say to\nher, indeed! That you find you are a married man--I don\u2019t believe it,\nmind--but what else could you say if you were to see her? While there\nis the shadow of a doubt on this head you must not see her, must not\ndirectly or indirectly hold any communication with her.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd I am to sneak off without a word of explanation, and leave her to\nthink of me as a heartless, dishonorable scoundrel!\u201d\n\n\u201cA bitter alternative; but it is better to seem a scoundrel than to be\none,\u201d answered Sir Simon. \u201cWhat could you say to her if you saw her?\u201d\n\n\u201cI would tell her the truth and ask her to forgive me,\u201d said the young\nman, his face kindling with tenderness and passion of a softer kind than\nthat which had just convulsed its fine lineaments. \u201cI would bless her for\nwhat the memory of her love must be to me while I live. Harness, if it is\nonly to say \u2018God bless you and forgive me!\u2019 I must see her.\u201d\n\n\u201cI\u2019ll shoot you first!\u201d said the baronet, clutching his arm and arresting\nhis steps toward the door. \u201cYou call that love? I call it the basest\nselfishness. You would see the woman who loves you for the sole purpose\nof planting yourself so firmly in the ruins of her broken heart that\nnothing could ever uproot it; but then she would worship you as a\nvictim--a victim of her own making, and this would be compensation to you\nfor a great deal. I thought better of you, De Winton, than to suppose you\ncapable of such heartless foppery.\u201d\n\nIt was Clide\u2019s turn to quail. But he answered quickly:\n\n\u201cYou are right. It would be selfish and cruel. I was mad to think of it.\u201d\n\n\u201cOf course you were. I knew you would see it in a moment.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut there is no reason why I should not see her father,\u201d said Clide; \u201cit\nis only fit that I should speak to him. Shall I go there, or will you\nbring him up here?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou shall not see him, here or anywhere else,\u201d was the peremptory reply.\n\u201cHave you spoken to him already?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo. I went down this morning for the purpose, but he was not up.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat was providential. And about Franceline, am I to understand there is\na distinct engagement between you?\u201d\n\n\u201cAs distinct as need be for a man of honor.\u201d\n\n\u201cSince when?\u201d\n\n\u201cLast night.\u201d\n\nSir Simon winced. This at any rate was his doing. He had taken every\npains to precipitate what now he would have given almost anything he\npossessed to undo.\n\n\u201cI\u2019ll tell you what it is, you must leave the matter in my hands. I will\nsee the count as soon as you are gone. I will tell him that your uncle\nhas been called off suddenly on important business that required your\npresence, and that you have gone with him. For the present it is not\nnecessary to say more; it would be cruel to do so.\u201d\n\n\u201cI will abide by your advice,\u201d said Clide submissively; \u201cbut\nafterwards--what if this terrible news turns out to be true?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt has yet to be proved.\u201d\n\n\u201cIf it is proved it will kill her!\u201d exclaimed Clide, speaking rather to\nhimself than to his companion.\n\n\u201cPooh! nonsense! All fancy that. Lovers\u2019 dead are easily buried,\u201d said\nSir Simon, affecting a cheerfulness he was very far from feeling. He knew\nbetter than Clide how ill-fitted Franceline was, both by the sensitive\ndelicacy of her own nature and the inherited delicacy of a consumptive\nmother, to bear up against such a blow as that which threatened her;\nbut he would not lacerate the poor fellow\u2019s heart by letting him share\nthese gloomy forebodings that were based on surer ground than the\nsentimental fears of a lover. Perhaps the expression of his undisciplined\nfeatures--the brow that could frown but knew not how to dissemble;\nthe lip that could smile so kindly, or curl in contempt, but knew not\nhow to lie; the eye that was the faithful, even when the unconscious,\ninterpreter of the mind--may have said more to Clide than was intended.\n\n\u201cI trust you to watch over her,\u201d he said; and then added in a tone that\nwent to Sir Simon\u2019s very heart, \u201cdon\u2019t spare me if it can help you to\nspare her. Tell her I am a blackguard--it\u2019s true by comparison; compared\nto her snow-white purity and angelic innocence of heart, I am no better\nthan a false and selfish brute. Blacken me as much as you like--make her\nhate me--anything rather than that she should suffer, or guess what I am\nsuffering. God knows I would bear it and ten times worse to shield her\nfrom one pang!\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is spoken like yourself,\u201d said the baronet. \u201cI recognize your\nfather\u2019s son now.\u201d\n\nThey grasped each other\u2019s hands in silence. Clide was opening the door\nwhen suddenly he turned round and said with a smile of touching pathos:\n\n\u201cYou will not begin the blackening process at once? You will wait till we\nknow if it is necessary?\u201d\n\n\u201cAll right--you may trust me,\u201d was the rejoinder, and they went together\ninto the breakfast-room.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThey had the carriage to themselves. Clide was glad of it. It was a\nstrange fatality that drew these two men, alike only in name, so closely\ntogether in the most trying crises of the younger man\u2019s life. He spoke of\nit gratefully, but bitterly.\n\n\u201cYes, your support is the one drop of comfort granted me in this trouble,\nas it was in the other,\u201d he said, as the train carried them through the\ngreen fields and past many a spot made dear and beautiful by memory; \u201cit\nis abominably selfish of me to use it as I do, but where should I be\nwithout it! I should have been in a mad-house before this if it were not\nfor you, uncle, hunted as I am like a mad-dog. What have I done so much\nworse than other men to be cursed like this!\u201d\n\nThe admiral had hitherto been as gentle towards his nephew as a fond but\nawkward nurse handling a sick child; but he turned on him now with a\nsevere countenance.\n\n\u201cWhat right have you to turn round on your Maker and upbraid him for the\nconsequences of your own folly? You talk of being cursed; we make our\nown curses. We commit follies and sins, and we have to pay for it, and\nthen we call it destiny! It is your own misdoing that is hunting you.\nYou thought to make life into a holiday; to shirk every duty, everything\nthat was the least irksome or distasteful; you flew in the face of\ncommon-sense, and family dignity, and all the responsibilities of life\nin your marriage; you rushed into the most solemn act of a man\u2019s life\nwith about as much decency and reverence as a masquerader at a fancy\nball. Instead of acting openly in the matter and taking counsel with\nyour relatives, you fall in love with a pretty face and marry it without\neven as much prudence as a man exercises in hiring a groom. You pay the\npenalty of this, and then, forsooth, you turn round on Providence and\ncomplain of being cursed! I don\u2019t want to be hard on you, and I\u2019m not\nfond of playing Job\u2019s comforter; but I can\u2019t sit here and listen to you\nblaspheming without protesting against it.\u201d\n\nWhen the admiral had finished this harangue, the longest he ever made in\nhis life, he took out his snuff-box and gave it a sharp tap preparatory\nto taking a pinch.\n\n\u201cYou are quite right, sir; you are perfectly right,\u201d said Clide; \u201cI have\nno one to blame but myself for that misfortune.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, if you see it and own it like a man that\u2019s a great point,\u201d said\nthe admiral, mollified at once. \u201cThe first step towards getting on the\nright tack is to see that we have been going on the wrong one.\u201d\n\n\u201cI was very young too,\u201d pleaded Clide; \u201cbarely of age. That ought to\ncount for something in my favor.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo it does; of course it does, my boy,\u201d assented his uncle warmly.\n\n\u201cI came to see the folly and the sinfulness of it all--of shirking my\nduties, as you say--and I was resolved to turn over a new leaf and make\nup for what I had left undone too long. M. de la Bourbonais said to me,\n\u2018We most of us are asleep until the sting of sorrow wakes us up.\u2019 It\nhad taken a long time to do it, but it did wake me up at last; and just\nas I was thoroughly stung into activity, into a desire to be of use to\nsomebody, to make my life what it ought to be, there comes down this\nthunderclap upon me, and dashes it all to pieces again. That is what I\ncomplain of. That is what is hard. This has been no doing of mine.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhose doing is it? It is the old mistake sticking to you still. It is\nthe day of reckoning that comes sooner or later after every man\u2019s guilt\nor folly. We bury it out of sight, but it rises up like a day of judgment\non us when we least expect it.\u201d\n\n\u201cI was not kept long waiting for the day of reckoning to my first\nfolly--call it sin, if you like--\u201d said Clide bitterly. \u201cI should have\nthought it was expiated by this. Eight of the best years of my life\nwasted in wretchedness.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou wasted them because you liked it; because it was pleasanter to you\nto go mooning about the world than to come back to your post at home,\nand do your duty to God and yourself and your fellow-men,\u201d retorted the\nadmiral gruffly. \u201cIf we swallow poison, are its gripings to be reckoned\nmerit to us? You spent eight years eating the fruit of your own act, and\nyou expect the bitterness to count as an atonement. My boy, I have no\nright to preach to you, or to any one; I have too many holes in my own\ncoat; but I have this advantage over you--that I see where the holes\nare and what made them. We need never expect things to go right with us\nunless we do the right thing; and if we do right and things seem to go\nwrong, they are sure to be right all the same, though we can\u2019t see it.\nIt is not all over here; the real reckoning is on the other side. But\nwe have not come to that yet,\u201d he added, in an encouraging tone; \u201cthis\nthreat may turn out to be a vain one, and if so you will be none the\nworse for it--probably all the better. We want to be reminded every now\nand then that we don\u2019t command either waves or wind; that when we are\nbrought through smooth seas safe into port, a Hand mightier than ours has\nbeen guiding the helm for us. We are not quite such independent, fine\nfellows as we like to think. But come what may, fine weather or foul, you\nwill meet it like a Christian, you will bow your head and submit.\u201d\n\nThe admiral tapped his snuff-box again at this climax, took another\npinch, and then fell back on the cushions and opened his paper.\n\nClide was glad to be left to himself, although his thoughts were not\ncheerful.\n\nSir Simon had said truly, he was or ought to have been a Catholic. At\nalmost the very outset of his acquaintance with Franceline, he had\nintimated this fact to her, and though she did not inform her father of\nit, the knowledge undoubtedly went far in attracting her towards the\nyoung man and inspiring the confidence that she yielded to him so quickly\nand unquestioningly.\n\nMrs. de Winton, Clide\u2019s mother, had been a sincere Catholic, although\nher heart had beguiled her into the treacherous error of marrying a man\nwho was not of her faith. She had stipulated unconditionally that her\nchildren should be brought up Catholics; and on her death-bed demanded\na renewal of the promise--then, as formerly, freely given--that Clide,\ntheir only child, should be carefully educated in his mother\u2019s religion.\nBut these things can never safely be entrusted to the good-will of any\nhuman being. The mother compromised--if she did not betray--her solemn\ntrust, and her child paid the penalty. Mr. de Winton kept his promise as\nfar as he could. He had no prejudices against the old religion--he was\ntoo indifferent to religion in the main for that--the antiquity and noble\ntraditions of the Catholic Church claimed his intellectual sympathies,\nwhile its spirit and teaching, as exemplified in the life of her whom\nhe revered as the model of all the virtues, inclined him to look on the\ndoctrines of Catholicity with an indulgence leaning to reverence, even\nwhere he felt them most antagonistic.\n\nClide had a Catholic nurse to wash and scold him in his infantine\ndays, and when, too soon after his father\u2019s second marriage, the boy\nbecame an orphan and was left to the care of a stepmother, that cold\nbut conscientious lady carried out her husband\u2019s dying injunctions by\nengaging a Catholic governess to teach him his letters. Conscience,\nhowever, gave other promptings which Mrs. de Winton found it hard to\nreconcile with the faithful discharge of her late husband\u2019s wishes. She\nmaintained the Catholic influence at home, but she would not prolong the\nevil day an hour more than was absolutely necessary. She felt justified,\ntherefore, in precipitating Clide\u2019s entrance at Eton at an age when many\nchildren were still in the nursery. The Catholic catechism was not on the\nlist of Etonian school-books, and he would be otherwise safe from the\ncorroding influence which as yet could scarcely have penetrated below the\nsurface of his mind. It was reasonably to be hoped that in course of time\nthe false tenets he had imbibed would fade out of his mind altogether,\nand that when he was of an age to choose for himself the boy would elect\nthe more respectable and rational creed of the De Wintons. His stepmother\ncarried her conscientious scruples so far in this respect, however, as\nto inform the dame who was charged with the care of Clide\u2019s linen, and\nthe tutor who was to train his mind, that the boy was a Catholic and\nthat his religion was to be respected. This injunction was, after a\ncertain fashion, strictly obeyed. The subject of religion was carefully\navoided, never mentioned to Clide directly or indirectly; and he was left\nto grow up with about as much spiritual culture as the laborer bestows\non the flowers of the field. The seeds sown by his mother\u2019s hand were\nquickly carried away by the winds that blow from the four points of the\ncompass in those early, youthful days. If some sunk deeper and remained,\nthey had not sun or dew enough to blossom forth and fructify. Perhaps,\nnevertheless, they did their work, and acted as an antidote in the\nvirgin, untilled soil, and preserved the young infidel from the vicious\nvapors that tainted the air around him. It is certain that Clide left\nthe immoral atmosphere of the great public school quite uncorrupted,\nguileless and upright, and still calling himself a Catholic, although\nhe had practically broken off from all communion with the church of\nhis childhood. He was more to be pitied than blamed. He was thinking\nso now as he lay back in the railway carriage, while the admiral sat\nbeside him grunting complacently over the leading article, and mentally\nprognosticating that the country was going to the dogs, thanks to those\nblundering, unpatriotic Whigs. Yes, Clide pitied himself as he surveyed\nthe past, and saw how his young life had been wasted and shipwrecked. If\nhe felt that he had been too severely punished for follies that he had\nnever been warned against, you must make allowance for him. His face wore\na very sad, subdued look as he gazed out vacantly at the quiet fields and\nvillages and steeples flying past. Why does he suddenly make that almost\nimperceptible movement, starting as if a voice had sounded close to his\nside? Was it fancy, or did he really hear a voice, low and soft, like\nfaint, distant music that stirred his soul, making it vibrate to some\ndimly remembered melody? Could it be his mother\u2019s voice echoing through\nthe far-off years when he was a little child and knelt with his small\nhands clasped upon her knee, and lisped out some forgotten words that she\ndictated? Was it a trick of his imagination, or did some one stand at\nhis side, gently touching his right hand and constraining him to lift it\nto his forehead, while his tongue mechanically accompanied the movement\nwith some once familiar, long disused formula? There was in truth a\npresence near him, and a voice sounding from afar, murmuring those notes\nof memory which are the mother-tongue of the soul, subtle, persuasive,\nirresistible; accents that live when we have forgotten languages\nacquired with mature choice and arduous study; a presence that clings to\nus through life, and reveals itself when we have the will and the gift\nto see and to recognize it. That power is mostly the purchase of a great\npain; the answer to our soul\u2019s cry in the hour of its deepest need.\n\nIt flashed suddenly upon Clide, as that sweet and solemn influence\npervaded and uplifted him, that here lay the unexpected solution of\nthe problem--the missing key of life. He had fancied for a moment that\nhe had found it in M. de la Bourbonais\u2019 serene theories and practical\nphilosophy. These had done much for him, it is true; but they had fallen\naway; they failed like a broken sword in the hour of trial; they did\nwell enough for peaceful times, but they could not help and rescue him\nwhen all the forces of the enemy were let loose. Yet they seemed to have\nsufficed for Raymond.\n\nClide did not know that the calm philosophy was grafted on a root of\nfaith in the French gentleman\u2019s mind; his faith was not dead; far from\nit, and its vital heat had fed the strength which philosophy alone could\nnever have supplied. Poor Clide! If any one had been at hand to interpret\nto him the message of that voice from his childhood, the whole aspect of\nlife might there and then have changed for him. But no spiritual guide,\nno gentle monitor was there to tell him what it meant. The music died\naway; the presence was clouded over and ceased to be felt. When the train\nentered the station the passing emotion had disappeared, drowned without\nby the roar of the great city; within, by the agitation of the present\nwhich other thoughts had for a moment lulled to sleep.\n\nThe travellers drove straight from the railway station to Wimpole Street.\nMr. Peckett, the dentist, was at home. They were admitted at once, and a\nfew minutes\u2019 conversation sufficed to confirm their worst forebodings.\nThere could be no doubt but that the person whom Cromer had recognized in\nthat transitory glimpse the day before was the beautiful and mysterious\ncreature, Clide\u2019s wife.\n\nThe dentist had very little definite information to give concerning her.\nHe could only certify that she was the same who had come to him nearly\nten years ago to have a silver tooth made. It was a fantastic idea of\nher own, and in spite of all his remonstrances she insisted on having\nit carried out; it had seriously injured the neighboring tooth--nearly\neaten it away. This was what Mr. Peckett had foretold. He was launching\nout into a rather excited denunciation of the thing, an absurdity against\nall the laws of dentistry, when the admiral called him back to the point.\nDid this tooth still exist? Yes; and if it was of no other use, it would\nserve to identify the wearer. She had been to have it arranged about four\nyears ago, and again within the last few days. Mr. Peckett said she was\nvery little changed in appearance; as beautiful as ever, and considerably\ndeveloped in figure; but in manner she was greatly altered. Her former\nchildlike gayety was quite gone; she sat demure and silent, and when she\nspoke it was with a sort of frightened restraint; if a door opened, or\nif he asked a question abruptly, she started as if in terror. It was not\nthe ordinary starting of a nervous person; there was something in the\nexpression of the face, in the quivering of the mouth and the wavering\nglance of the eyes, that had on one occasion especially suggested\nto him the idea of a person whose mental faculties had suffered some\nderangement. She gave him the impression, in fact, of one who either\nhad been or might on slight provocation become mad. She never gave any\nname or address, but had always been accompanied by either the man whom\nshe called \u201cuncle,\u201d or an elderly woman with the manner of a well-to-do\nshopkeeper; and she seemed in great awe of both of them. Yesterday was\nthe first time she had ever come by herself, and Mr. Peckett thought that\nvery likely either of these persons was waiting for her in the cab into\nwhich she had jumped so quickly when Cromer was trying to come up with\nher. She had left no clew as to her residence or projected movements;\nonly once, in reply to some question about a recipe which her uncle\nwanted the dentist to see, she said that it had been forgotten in St.\nPetersburg. His answer seemed to imply that they meant to return there.\nMr. Peckett was quite sure she sang in public, but whether on the stage\nor only in concerts he could not say.\n\nThis was all he had to tell about his mysterious patient. He was very\nfrank, and appeared anxious to give any assistance in his power, and\npromised to let Admiral de Winton know if she came to him again. But he\nthought this was not likely for some time, at any rate. He had finished\nwith her on the last visit, and there was no reason that he foresaw for\nher coming back at present.\n\nThere was not a shadow of doubt on Clide\u2019s mind but that the person in\nquestion was his lost Isabel. The admiral, however, stoutly continued\nto pooh-pooh the idea as absurd and impossible. He was determined, at\nany rate, not to give in to it until he had been to St. Val\u00e9ry, and\ninvestigated the question of the dead Isabel whom he had seen buried\nthere. So he left Clide to open communications once more with Scotland\nYard, and set the police in motion amongst the managers of theatres and\nother agents of the musical world, while he went on board the steamer to\nDieppe. He was not long searching for the link he dreaded to find. The\nyoung woman whom he had so hastily concluded to be his nephew\u2019s missing\nwife had been proved to be the daughter of a Spanish merchant, whose\nship had foundered on the Normandy coast in the gales that had done so\nmuch damage during that eventful week. He himself had been saved almost\nmiraculously, and after many weeks of agonized suspense as to the fate of\nhis child, he heard of a body having been washed ashore at St. Val\u00e9ry,\nand buried after waiting several days for recognition. He hastened to the\nspot, and, in spite of the swift ravages of death, recognized it beyond a\ndoubt as that of his child. The English milord who had paid for all the\nexpenses of the little grave, and manifested such emotion on beholding\nthe body, turning away without another glance when he saw the long hair\nsweeping over it like a veil, had left no address, so the authorities had\nno means of communicating with him.\n\nThis was the intelligence which Clide received two days after his\ninterview with the dentist. It only confirmed his previous conviction. He\nwas as satisfied that his wife was alive as if he had seen and spoken to\nher. About an hour after his uncle\u2019s return there came a note from Mr.\nPeckett saying that \u201cthe person in question\u201d was on her way to Berlin, if\nshe had not already arrived there. The landlady of the house where she\nhad been lodging, under the name of Mme. Villar, had called at Wimpole\nStreet for a pocket-book which her late tenant believed she must have\ndropped there. While she was inquiring about it of the servant, Mr.\nPeckett came out; he inquired after his patient; the landlady was glad\nto say she was well, and sorry to say she was gone; she had left the day\nbefore for Berlin, going _via_ Paris.\n\n\u201cNow, uncle, we must part,\u201d said Clide; \u201cI can\u2019t drag you about on this\nmiserable business any more. I must do what remains to be done myself. I\nwill start at once for Berlin, and once there, \u00e0 la grace de Dieu! you\nwill hear from me when I have anything to say.\u201d\n\n\u201cI shall hear from you as soon as you arrive; you must write to me\nwithout waiting for news,\u201d said the admiral. \u201cYou will take Stanton with\nyou?\u201d\n\n\u201cI suppose I had better; he knows everything, so there is no need to\nshirk him, and he\u2019s a discreet fellow, as well as intelligent and\ngood-natured. He may be of use to me.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen God be with you both, my boy. Bear up, and keep a stout heart\nwhatever comes,\u201d said the admiral, wringing his hand.\n\n\u201cYou will write to Harness for me,\u201d said Clide; \u201ctell him I can\u2019t write\nmyself; and say I trust to his doing whatever is best for me.\u2026\u201d\n\nHe turned away abruptly; and so they parted.\n\nNo incident broke the monotony of the road until Clide reached Cologne.\nThere, as he was crossing the platform, a lady passed him; she looked\nat him, and started, or he fancied she did, and instead of getting into\nthe carriage that they were both evidently making for, she hurried on\nto the one higher up. He drew his hand across his forehead, and stood\nfor a moment trying to remember where he had seen the face, but his\nmemory failed him. His curiosity was roused, however, and he was in\nthat frame of mind when every insignificant trifle comes to us pregnant\nwith unlooked-for possibilities. He went on to the carriage the lady\nhad entered. There was only another occupant beside herself, an elderly\nGerman, with a beery countenance and brick-red whiskers. Clide got in\nand seated himself opposite the lady, who was at the other end of the\ncompartment, and steadily looking out of the window. He felt sure she had\nseen him come up to the door, but she did not turn round when he opened\nit and closed it again with a bang. They had five minutes to wait before\nthe train started. Clide employed them in getting out a book and making\nhimself comfortable for the long ride in prospect. The lady was still\nabsorbed in the landscape. The German made his preparations by taking\na clay pipe from his pocket, filling it as full as it would hold with\ntobacco, and then striking a light. Clide had started bolt upright, and\nwas watching in amazement. The lady was in front of him. Did the brute\nmean to puff his disgusting weed into her face? He was making a chimney\nof his hand to let the match light thoroughly. Perhaps Clide\u2019s vehement\nlook of indignation touched him mesmerically, for before applying it to\nthe pipe he looked round at him and said in very intelligible English:\n\n\u201cI hope you don\u2019t object to smoking?\u201d\n\n\u201cI can\u2019t say I much relish tobacco, but I sha\u2019n\u2019t interfere with you if\nthis lady does not object.\u201d\n\nMein herr asked her if she did. She was compelled to turn round at the\nquestion.\n\n\u201cI am sorry to say I do, sir; the smell of tobacco makes me quite sick.\u201d\n\nHem! She is not a lady, at any rate, thought Clide.\n\n\u201cOh! I am sorry for that,\u201d said the German; \u201cfor you\u2019ll have the trouble\nof getting out.\u201d\n\nBefore Clide could recover sufficient presence of mind to collar the man\nand pitch him headforemost out of the window, the lady had grasped her\nbag, rug, and umbrella, and was standing on the platform. The impending\nejectment was clearly a most welcome release; nothing but the utmost\ngoodwill could have enabled her to effect such a rapid exit. Clide was\nso struck by it that he forgot to collar the German, who had begun with\nequal alacrity to puff away at his pipe, and the train moved on.\n\nThe first thing Clide saw on alighting at the next station was his\nrecent _vis-\u00e0-vis_ marshalling an array of luggage that struck even his\ninexperienced eye as somewhat out of keeping with a person who said \u201csir\u201d\nand travelled without a servant. What could one lone woman want with such\na lot of boxes, and such big ones? She waylaid a porter, who proceeded to\npile them on a truck while she stood mounting guard over them.\n\n\u201cFollow that man and see where he is taking that luggage to,\u201d Clide\nwhispered to Stanton, and the latter, leaving his master to look after\ntheir respective portmanteaux, hurried on in the direction indicated.\n\n\u201cThey are going to the Hotel of the Great Frederick, sir,\u201d he said,\nreturning in a few minutes.\n\n\u201cThen call a cab and let us drive there.\u201d\n\nThe Hotel of the Great Frederick was not one of the fashionable\ncaravansaries of the place; it was a large, old-fashioned kind of\nhostelry, chiefly frequented by business people, travelling clerks,\ndress-makers, etc.; and its customers were numerous enough to make it\noften difficult to secure accommodation there on short notice. This was\na busy season; everybody was flitting to and from the watering-places,\nwhere the invalids and gamblers of Europe were ruining or repairing their\nfortunes and their constitutions, so that Mr. de Winton was obliged to\ncontent himself with two small rooms in the third story for the night;\nto-morrow many travellers would be moving on, and he could have more\nconvenient quarters.\n\n\u201cStanton, keep a lookout after that person. I am in a mood for suspecting\neverything and everybody; but I don\u2019t think it\u2019s all fancy in this case.\nI believe the woman is trying to avoid me; and if so, she must have a\nmotive for it. Ask for the visitors\u2019 book, and bring it to me at once.\u201d\n\nStanton brought the book, and while his master was running his eye\nsearchingly over the roll of names, hoping and dreading to see Mme.\nVillar among the number, he set off to look after the woman with the\nmultitude of boxes. She was lodging on the first floor, and had been\nexpected by a lady and gentleman who had taken rooms in the house the day\nbefore. This much Stanton learned from a _Kellner_,[148] whom he met\ncoming out of the said rooms with a tray in his hands.\n\n\u201cI think I know her,\u201d said Stanton. \u201cWhat is her name?\u201d\n\nBut before the _Kellner_ could answer the door opened, and the lady\nherself stood face to face with Mr. de Winton\u2019s valet. Their eyes\nmet with a sudden flash of recognition; Stanton turned away with an\nalmost inaudible whistle, and was vaulting up to the third story in the\ntwinkling of an eye.\n\n\u201cI\u2019ve seen her, sir, and I can tell you who she is. She is the dressmaker\nthat made Mrs. de Winton\u2019s gowns before you brought her to Glanworth. I\nremembered her the moment I saw her without a bonnet. I had been twice\nto her place in Brook Street, with messages and a band-box from Mrs. de\nWinton.\u201d\n\nClide had started up with an exclamation of anger and triumph. Here,\nthen, was a clew. Evidently the woman held communication or was in some\nway connected with Isabel, else why should she have shrunk from meeting\nhim? It was clear as daylight now that she did shrink.\n\n\u201cTell the landlord I wish to speak to him,\u201d said Clide.\n\nHe was walking up and down the room, his hands in his pockets, and his\nhead tossed back like an impatient horse, when the owner of the Great\nFrederick came in.\n\n\u201cI want to have a word of conversation with you; sit down, pray,\u201d said\nClide; but he continued walking, as we are apt to do when agitation is\ntoo vehement to bear immobility, and must have an outlet in motion. The\nlandlord had taken a chair as desired, but rose again on seeing that his\nguest did not sit down; the hotel-keeper was a well-mannered man. There\nwas a lapse of two or three moments while Clide considered what he should\nsay. It was impossible to acknowledge the real motive of his curiosity\nabout the occupants of the first-floor rooms, and how otherwise could he\njustify any inquiries about them and their movements? He recoiled from\nthe odious necessity that drove him to pry into people\u2019s affairs, to ask\nquestions and set watches like a police agent; but this was the mere husk\nof the bitter kernel he had to eat. It may have been the extraordinary\nagitation visible in the young man\u2019s face and gait and manner that\naroused the hotel-keeper\u2019s suspicions and put him on the defensive, or\nit may have been that some one had been beforehand with Clide, and cut\nthe ground from under his feet by warning the landlord not to give any\ninformation; but at any rate the latter acted with a circumspection that\nwas remarkable in a person so unskilled in the science of diplomacy.\nThese first-floor people were good customers; this was the third time\nthey had stopped at the Great Frederick, and it was not likely to be the\nlast, unless, indeed, the house should be made objectionable to them in\nsome way; and no landlord who knew his duty to his customers could be a\nparty to such a proceeding.\n\n\u201cMme. Brack is a most excellent customer, but no dressmaker--that I\ncan assure milord of; she has many boxes because she goes to spend\nmany months at Vienna; that is her custom, as also that of the friends\nshe travels with--M. Roncemar and his daughter, people of quality like\nmilord, and large fortune. Unfortunately they do not tarry long at the\nGreat Frederick, only remaining three days to rest themselves; their\nrooms are already bespoke from Friday morning, when they start by the\nmidday train. But why should not milord go himself and ask of M. Roncemar\nany information he desires? M. Roncemar is a most polite gentleman, and\nwould no doubt be happy to see a compatriot.\u201d\n\nThis was all that Clide could extract from the wily master of the Great\nFrederick. If he had been more outspoken, he might have been more\nsuccessful; but he could not bring himself to this; he spoke so vaguely\nthat his motives might have borne the most opposite constructions. The\nlandlord\u2019s private opinion was that there was a money-claim in the way,\nand that he was on the track of some fugitive, perhaps fraudulent,\ndebtor; it was no part of a landlord\u2019s business to pry into matters of\nthis sort, or bring a customer into trouble.\n\n\u201cWell, sir?\u201d said Stanton, coming in when he saw the landlord come out.\n\n\u201cI did not make much out of him; the fellow either knows more than he\ncares to tell, or we are on the wrong scent. You must lose no time in\nfinding out from the waiters whether these names are the real ones;\nwhether, at least, they are the same the people have borne here before,\nand also if it is true that the rooms are taken till Friday next; if so,\nit gives me time to go to the consul and take proper legal steps for\ntheir arrest. But it may be a dodge of his; if the woman recognized us\nboth, as I am strongly inclined to believe, they have put the landlord up\nto telling me this, just to prevent my entrapping them, and so as to give\nthem time to escape. The people whom he calls Roncemar have been here at\nany rate before the alarm came, and it will be known most likely whether\nthey are on their way to Vienna or not. Be cautious, Stanton; don\u2019t rouse\nsuspicion by asking too pointed questions, because you see it may be that\nas yet there is no suspicion, it may be my fancy about the man\u2019s throwing\nme off the scent. He urged me to go and see M. Roncemar myself, which\nwas either a proof that he suspects nothing, or that he is the cleverest\nknave who ever outwitted another. Be off and see what you can learn. I\nwill dine at the _table d\u2019h\u00f4te_.\u201d\n\nThe few details that Stanton gleaned from the _kellner_ attached to the\nfirst floor corroborated all that the landlord had said: the party were\nto remain until Friday--in fact they were not quite decided about going\nso soon; the younger lady was in delicate health, and greatly fatigued\nby the journey; it was possible they might remain until the Monday. \u201cSo\nif you are counting on the rooms you may be disappointed,\u201d he added,\nwinking at Stanton as he whipped up a tray and darted up the stairs like\na monkey, three steps at a time.\n\nSo far, then, Clide was sure of his course. He walked about after\ndinner--supper, as it was called there--and called at the consulate; but\nthe consul had been out of town for the last week, and was not expected\nhome until the next day.\n\n\u201cAnd he is sure to be here to-morrow?\u201d inquired the visitor.\n\n\u201cYes, sir; he has an appointment of great importance at one o\u2019clock. We\nexpect him home at twelve.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen I will call at two. You will not neglect to give him this card?\u201d\nHe wrote a line in pencil on it announcing his visit at two next day,\nand returned to the hotel. As he was crossing the hall he heard the\nheavy tramp of hobnailed shoes on the stairs, and a noise as of men\ntoiling under a weight. It was a piano. Clide walked slowly up after the\ncarriers, saw them halt at the rooms on the first floor, saw the doors\nthrown open and the instrument carried in; there was no mistake about it;\nthe occupants meant to remain there for some few days at least.\n\nHe sat down and wrote a long letter to the admiral, lit a cigar, and\nkilled time as best he could with the newspapers until, physically worn\nout, he lay down in hopes of catching a few hours\u2019 sleep. Stanton,\nsatisfied with the information he already possessed, felt it might be\nunwise to ask further questions, and contented himself with hanging about\nthe corridors in the neighborhood of Mrs. Brack\u2019s rooms, in hopes of\nseeing her coming in or out, and catching a glimpse, perhaps, of another\ninmate who interested him more closely. It may seem irrational in him,\nand especially in his master, to have jumped at a positive conclusion\nas to the identity of that inmate on such a flimsy tissue of evidence;\nbut when our minds are entirely possessed by an idea, we magnify trifles\ninto important facts, and see all things colored by the medium of our\nprepossessions, and go on hooking link after link in the chain of\nwitnesses till we have completed it, and made our internal evidence do\nthe work of substantial testimony.\n\nIt was a glorious day, and when Clide had breakfasted he was glad to\ngo out and reconnoitre the town instead of sitting in his dingy room,\nor lounging about the reading-room. He was a trained walker, thanks\nto his years of travel, and once set going he would go on for hours,\noblivious of time, and quite unconscious of fatigue as long as the\nlandscape offered him beauty or novelty enough to interest him. It was\nabout half-past ten when he left the house, and he tramped on far beyond\nthe town, and walked for nearly two hours, when the chimes of a village\nAngelus bell reminded him that time was marching too, and that he had\nbetter be retracing his steps. It was close upon two o\u2019clock when he\nappeared at the consul\u2019s door. On entering the hall, the first person he\nsaw was Stanton.\n\n\u201cSir, I\u2019ve been waiting here these two hours for you. You\u2019d better please\nlet me have a word with you before you go in\u201d; and Clide turned into\nthe dining-room, which the servant of the house civilly opened for him.\n\u201cWe\u2019ve been sold. They were off this morning at six. The three started\ntogether. They are gone to Berlin--at least so one of the _kellners_ let\nout to me; the one I spoke to yesterday was coached-up by the landlord\nand the people themselves, I suppose, for he told me it was Vienna they\nwere gone to; he had a trumped-up story about the _fraulein\u2019s_ mother\nbeing taken suddenly ill and telegraphing for them. They are a cunning\nlot. That piano was a dodge to put us to sleep, sir.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat proof have you that they are gone to Berlin? That other man may\nbe mistaken, or lying to order like the rest? I must see the consul and\ntake advice with him. This scoundrel of a landlord shall pay for his\nlies,\u201d said Clide, beating his foot with a quick, nervous movement on the\nground; \u201che must be forced to speak, and to speak the truth.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo need, sir; I\u2019ve found it out without him. I\u2019ve been to the railway. I\nmade believe I was the servant following with luggage that was forgotten,\nand they told me the train they started by and the hour it arrives, and\ndescribed them all three as true as life,\u201d said Stanton.\n\n\u201cAnd it is _she_?\u201d\n\n\u201cNot a doubt of it, sir. As certain as I\u2019m Stanton.\u201d Clide felt\nnevertheless that it would be well to see the consul; the case was\nso delicate, so fraught with difficulties on all sides, that it was\ndesirable at any cost of personal feeling to furnish himself with all the\ninformation he could get as to how he should now proceed, so as not to\nentangle things still further.\n\nOn hearing his visitor\u2019s strange tale, the consul\u2019s advice was that he\nshould see with his own eyes the person whom he took for granted was his\nwife, before venturing on any active steps. \u201cThe fact is quite clear to\nyou,\u201d he remarked, \u201cand from what you say it is equally clear to me; but\nthe evidence on which we build this assumption would not hold water for\none minute before a magistrate. Suppose, after all, it turns out to be a\ncase of mistaken identity; what a position you would be in!\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is impossible,\u201d affirmed Clide.\n\n\u201cNo, not impossible; highly improbable, I grant you; but such improbable\nthings occur every day. You must have more substantial ground than\nsecond-hand evidence and corroborating circumstances to go upon before\nyou stir in the matter, and then you must do nothing without proper legal\nadvice.\u201d\n\nClide recognized the common-sense and justice of this, and determined to\nbe advised. He started for Berlin, and on arriving there went straight\nfrom the railway to the British Embassy, where he obtained a letter from\nthe ambassador to the Minister of Police, requesting that functionary to\ngive the young Englishman every assistance and facility. The minister\nwas going to bed; it was near twelve o\u2019clock; the ambassador\u2019s letter,\nhowever, secured the untimely visitor immediate admission, and a civil\nand attentive hearing. He took some notes down from Clide\u2019s dictation,\nand promised that all the resources of the body which he controlled\nshould be enlisted in the matter, and as soon as they had discovered\nwhere the party they were in pursuit of had alighted, he would\ncommunicate with Mr. de Winton.\n\nThe latter then went to the hotel, where Stanton had preceded him, and\nwas waiting impatiently for his arrival. The moment he entered the room,\nStanton was struck by his pale, haggard look; he had not noticed it on\nthe journey; when the train stopped, they saw each other in the shade\nor in the dark, and after exchanging a hasty word passed each to his\nseparate buffets and carriages. It was indeed no wonder his master should\nbe worn out after the terrible emotions of the last few days, added to\nthe continued travelling and scarcely any sleep or food, but it did not\nlook like ordinary fatigue.\n\n\u201cYou had better go to bed, sir; you\u2019ll be used up if you take on like\nthis; and that won\u2019t mend much,\u201d he said, when Clide, after lighting a\ncigar, flung himself into a chair and bade Stanton bring him the papers.\n\n\u201cI\u2019ll go to bed presently; bring me the papers,\u201d repeated Clide, and the\nman left the room.\n\nWhen he returned he found his master standing up and holding on by the\nback of his chair as if to steady himself.\n\n\u201cI feel queerish, Stanton; get me some brandy and water; make haste,\u201d he\nsaid, speaking faintly.\n\nInstead of obeying him, Stanton forced him gently into the chair, and\nproceeded to undress him Clide resigning himself passively to it, as if\nhe were in a stupor; he let himself be put to bed in the same way, like a\nchild too sleepy to know what was being done to it.\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t like the looks of him at all,\u201d thought Stanton, as he stole\nsoftly out of the room; \u201cif he\u2019s not all right to-morrow, I send for the\nadmiral.\u201d\n\nClide was not all right in the morning; he was feverish and exhausted,\nand complained in a querulous way, quite unlike his usual self, of a\nburning, hammering pain in his head. Stanton sent for a medical man\nwithout consulting him. When he said he had done so, Clide gave no sign\nof displeasure; he did not seem quite to take it in.\n\n\u201cI\u2019ve got fifty thousand toothaches in my skull, Stanton; what the deuce\nis it, eh?\u201d he cried, tossing from side to side on his pillow. Then\nsuddenly he raised himself:\n\n\u201cStanton!\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, sir!\u201d\n\n\u201cYou think I\u2019m going to be ill. Don\u2019t deny it; I see it in your face.\nPerhaps I am; I feel uncommonly odd here\u201d--passing his hand over his\nforehead--\u201cbut I want to say one thing while I think of it: you don\u2019t\nwrite a word to any one in England until the doctor says I\u2019m a dead man.\nDo you hear me speaking to you?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, sir; but don\u2019t you think if the admiral\u2026\u201d\n\n\u201cIf you attempt to write to him, I\u2019ll dismiss you that very instant!\u201d And\nhis eyes flashed angrily. \u201cYou mind what I say, Stanton!\u201d\n\n\u201cAll right, sir; you know best what you like about it.\u201d\n\nThe excitement seemed to have exhausted his remaining strength; he grew\nrapidly worse; and when the doctor came, he declared his patient was in\nfor a brain fever that might turn to worse unless the circumstances were\nspecially propitious.\n\nWhy should we linger by his bedside? It would be only a repetition of the\nold story; delirium following on days of pain and restlessness; a long\nperiod of anxiety while youth battled with the enemy, now seemingly about\nto be worsted in the fight, then rising above the disease with unexpected\nstarts, showing how rich and strong the resources of the young frame\nwere. The medical man was not communicative with the valet; he kept his\nalternations of hope and fear to himself; it was only by scrutinizing\nthe expression of his face as he felt the patient\u2019s pulse that Stanton\ncould make a guess at his opinion. To his eager inquiries on accompanying\nthe oracle to the door, he received the uniform reply that this was a\ncase in which the disease must run its course, when no one could say\nwhat a day might bring forth, when much depended on the quality of the\npatient\u2019s constitution; the one drop of comfort Stanton extracted from\nhim was the emphatic assurance that in this instance the patient had a\nconstitution of gold. The crisis came, and then Stanton, convinced in his\ninexperienced mind that no mortal constitution could pass this strait,\nboldly asked the doctor if it was not time to write to the family.\n\n\u201cThese things must run their course; in twenty-four hours it will be\ndecided,\u201d was the sententious reply.\n\nStanton was fain to be content with it, and wait. The day passed, and the\nnight dragged on slowly as a passing bell, until at last the decisive\nhour came and was passed; then the medical man spoke again.\n\n\u201cHe is saved. The worst is now over; he is entering on the period of\nconvalescence.\u201d\n\nThe period was long--longer than he had anticipated; for the golden\nconstitution had been fiercely tried and shaken; it was more than two\nmonths from the day of Clide\u2019s arrival in Berlin until he was able to\nleave the hotel. In the meantime, what had become of Isabel, or Mme.\nVillar, as we shall call her for the present? All that Stanton could\nascertain was that she had left Berlin about a week after his master had\nbeen struck down, and had gone--so it was said at the hotel where she and\nher party put up--for a tour in the neighboring spas, after which she was\nto proceed to St. Petersburg to fulfil an engagement for the season. This\nwas the last link the police had got hold of; but as nobody had taken it\nup at the time, it was impossible to say how many others had intervened\nin the two months that had gone by.\n\nIt was now late in September. Clide was very weak still, and unfit for\na long railway journey, and besides, it was unlikely Mme. Villar would\nbe yet in St. Petersburg, assuming that the story of her going there at\nall was true. He yielded therefore to the doctor\u2019s advice, and went to\nrecruit himself at the nearest watering-place, after having again seen\nthe authorities at Berlin, and urged them not to let the affair sleep,\nbut to keep a sharp lookout in every direction.\n\nIn the first week of October he arrived in St. Petersburg. The city\nof the Czars looked dreary and desolate enough in these keen autumn\ndays; there was not much movement in its immense market-places--its\nbald, spacious squares, and high, broad houses standing unsocial and\nmistrustful, far apart in the wide, noiseless streets; but people were\ndropping in quickly from day to day from their country-houses, getting\nout their furs, and settling down for the winter campaign that was at\nhand; for the foe was marching steadily on them, girt with sullen skies\nof lead, and tawny mists, and trumpeted by the shrill blast of the north\nwind, a few strong puffs from whose ice-breathing nostrils would soon\nparalyze the rivers and lay them to sleep under twenty feet of ice. Clide\nwas weary after his long ride, and was in a mood to be exasperated when,\non stepping out of the train, and seeking for their two portmanteaus\namongst the heaps of luggage, the porters said they were missing. It was\nno small inconvenience, for the said portmanteaus contained all their\nclothes, and nearly all their money.\n\nThe officials were very civil, however, and assured the travellers that\ntheir luggage would be forthcoming next day. There was nothing for it\nbut to console themselves with this promise, and go on to the hotel.\nClide then gave his purse to Stanton and bade him go out and purchase\nsuch things as were indispensable for the night. The valet accordingly\nset off, accompanied by an English waiter who volunteered to interpret\nfor him, and Clide sallied forth for a stroll along the Neva, that still\nflowed high and free between its broad quays. He walked on and on,\nforgetting time, as was his habit, until lassitude recalled him to his\nsenses, and he looked around him and began to wonder where he had strayed\nto. He had drifted far beyond his intention, and now found himself on\nan island where handsome villas amidst groves and long avenues were to\nbe seen on every side. Happily a drosky passed empty at the moment; he\nhailed it, gave the name of his hotel, and drove home. Stanton had not\nyet returned. This was odd, for his interpreter had come back an hour\nsince, and said that the valet, after doing all his commissions, had\nlingered behind merely to see the quays, saying he would follow in ten\nminutes. It was impossible he could have lost his way, for the hotel\nwas in sight. The fact was, Stanton had had an adventure. He happened\nto be crossing the bridge when he noticed a man bestriding the parapet\nat the other end, swinging from side to side, and apostrophizing the\nlamp-post with great earnestness. Stanton watched him as he walked on,\nmentally wondering how long this social position would prove tenable,\nwhen the man gave a sudden lunge, and was precipitated with a shriek\ninto the water. There were several foot-passengers close to the spot;\nthey rushed towards the parapet, and began screaming to each other in\nRussian and gesticulating with great animation, hailing everybody and\neverything within sight, but no one gave any sign of doing the only thing\nthat could be of avail, namely, jumping in after the drowning man. The\nunfortunate wretch was struggling frantically, and gasping out cries\nfor help whenever he got his head above the water. There was a stair\nrunning down from the quay, where boats were moored to rings in the\nwall. Stanton saw this; he was a capital swimmer; so, without stopping\nto reflect, he pulled off his coat, flew down the steps, and plunged\nin. A loud cheer rang all along the parapet, then a breathless silence\nfollowed; the two men in the water were wrestling in a desperate embrace;\nStanton had the Russian by the collar, and the latter with the suicidal\nimpulse of a drowning man, was clutching him wildly, and dragging him\ndown with all his might. Happily, he was no match for the Englishman\u2019s\nsinewy arms; Stanton shook himself free with a vigorous effort, swam out\na few yards, then he turned and swam back, caught the drowning man by the\nhair, and drew him on with him to the steps. A thundering salvo greeted\nhis achievement; the group had now swelled to a crowd, and a score of\nspectators came tumbling down the steps gabbling their congratulations,\nand, what was more to the purpose, helping the hero to lift the rescued\nman on to the steps, and then haul him up to the landing-place. Stanton\nbroke through the press to snatch up his coat, and was elbowing his way\nout, when two individuals, whom he rightly took for policemen, came\nup to him, and began to hold forth volubly in the same unintelligible\njargon. Stanton only understood, by their pointing to some place and\nclutching him by the shoulder, that they wanted him to accompany them.\nWith native instinct, Stanton suspected they were proposing a tribute\nof admiration to him in the shape of a bumper at the tavern; but he was\nmore intent on his wet clothes, and, thanking them by signs, indicated\nthat he must go in the opposite direction, shouting meanwhile, at the\nvery top of his lungs, \u201cH\u00f4tel Peterhof! I\u2019m going to Peterhof!\u201d But the\npolicemen shook their heads, and still pointed and tugged, until, finding\nfurther expostulation useless, one of them took a stout grip of Stanton\u2019s\ncollar and proceeded to drag him on, _nolens volens_. The British lion\nrose up in Stanton \u201cand roared a roar.\u201d He levelled his clenched fist\nat the aggressor\u2019s chest, struck him a vigorous blow, and in language\nmore forcible than genteel bade him stand off. But the Russian held\non like grim death, gabbling away harder than ever, and pointing with\nhis left thumb to the _spit_ on his own breast, and then touching the\ncorresponding spot on Stanton\u2019s wet shirt; but Stanton would not see\nit. He doubled up his fist for another blow, when the other policeman\nsuddenly caught him by both arms, and pinned his elbows as in a vise\nbehind his back. The crowd had gone on swelling, and now numbered several\nhundred persons; they crushed round the infuriated Englishman, who stood\nthere the picture of impotent rage, dripping and foaming and appealing to\neverybody to help him. At this juncture a carriage drove up; the coachman\nstopped to know what was going on; and great was Stanton\u2019s joy when he\nheard a voice cry out to him in English: \u201cYou must go with them; they\nwon\u2019t hurt; they are going to give you a decoration for saving a man\u2019s\nlife.\u201d\n\n\u201cConfound their decoration! What the devil do I want with their\ndecoration? Tell them I\u2019m not a Russian!\u201d\n\n\u201cThey know that, but it don\u2019t matter; the law is the same for natives and\nforeigners,\u201d explained the coachman.\n\n\u201cHang it, I\u2019m not a foreigner; what do you take me for? I\u2019m an\nEnglishman!\u201d protested Stanton.\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t matter; you must be decorated; you may as well do it, and be done\nwith it.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut look at my clothes, man! I\u2019m as wet as a drowned rat!\u201d\n\n\u201cServed you right! What business had you jumping into the water after a\nfool that wanted to drown himself?\u201d\n\n\u201cI wish I\u2019d let him,\u201d said Stanton devoutly; \u201cbut just you tell these\nchaps to let me go or else they\u2019ll \u2019ear of it; tell them my master will\ngo to the ambassador and get them flogged all round; tell them that, and\nsee what comes of it.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo good. The law is the law. Good morning to you; take a friend\u2019s\nadvice, and keep your skin dry next time\u201d; and, nodding to Stanton, he\ntouched his horses and was off at a pace.\n\nThere was nothing for it but to resign himself to his fate. Stanton\nceased all resistance, and let himself be led to the altar where glory\nawaited him in the form of a yellow _spit_. He was marched on to a\nlarge, barrack-like building; two sentries were mounting guard over its\nponderous iron gate. He passed through them and was marched from bureau\nto bureau, addressed by several officials in every tongue under the sun,\nit seemed to him, till they came to the right one, requested to record\nhis name, age, and state of life in several ominous-looking books, and on\neach occasion was embraced and shaken hands with by the presiding genius\nof the bureau; at last he was brought into the presence of a gold-laced\nand highly decorated individual, who handed him a written document, very\nstiff and very long, and with this a knot of ribbon. Stanton without more\nado was stuffing both into the pocket of his soaked pantaloons, when the\ngold-laced gentleman exclaimed with friendly warmth, \u201cOh! you must permit\nme to place the _spit_ upon your breast!\u201d Upon which the Englishman\nrecoiled three steps with a scowl of disgust, and bade him do it if he\ndared. The official, apparently surprised to see his polite offer met so\nungraciously, forbore to press it, and demanded the fee. \u201cThe fee!--what\nfee?\u201d He explained that a fee was always paid on receipt of a decoration.\nStanton declined paying it, for the substantial reason that he had no\nmoney; his luggage had been lost on the railway; so had his master\u2019s. The\npolite gentleman was very sorry to hear of their misadventure, but the\nlaw was inexorable--every man who performed that noble feat of saving a\nRussian\u2019s life should be decorated, and the decoration involved a fee.\n\n\u201cThen what in the name of the furies do you want me to do?\u201d cried the\nexasperated Stanton; \u201cI can\u2019t coin any, can I?\u201d\n\nNo; this was not a practical alternative, but very likely his master\ncould devise one; he would have no difficulty in getting credit for the\namount; any one in St. Petersburg would be happy to accommodate a milord\nwith so small a sum, or indeed any sum.\n\nStanton had nothing for it but to write a line to the Peterhof explaining\nhis pitiable position, and entreating his master to come to the rescue\nwithout delay.\n\nIt was late in the evening when this missive was handed to Clide. The\nlandlord, with the utmost alacrity, placed the coffers of the Peterhof at\nhis disposal, and sent for a carriage to convey him to the scene of his\nvalet\u2019s distress.\n\n\u201cIf ever any one catches me saving a Russian fellow\u2019s life again may I\nbe drowned myself!\u201d was Stanton\u2019s ejaculation as he shut his master into\nthe cab, and drove home with the _spit_ in his pocket.\n\nThis little incident gave Clide some food for reflection, and aroused\nin him a prudent desire to make some acquaintance with the ways and\ncustoms of Muscovy before he went further. A little knowledge of the\ncode which included such a very peculiar law as the aforementioned might\nprove not only desirable but essential, before he entangled himself in\nits treacherous meshes. A paternal government might have its advantages,\nbut clearly it had its drawbacks. Russia was almost the only spot in\nthe so-called civilized world that he had not explored in the course\nof his wanderings, so the people and their laws were as unknown to him\npractically as the people and the laws of the Feejee Islands. He had\ngone once as far as Warsaw with the intention of pushing on to Russia,\nbut what he saw in the Polish city of her spirit and national character\nsickened and horrified him; he turned his back on the scene of her\ncruelty and demoralizing rule, and went down to Turkey. There at least\nbarbarism reigned with a comparatively gentle sceptre, and wore no\nhypocrite\u2019s mask. He had not furnished himself with a single letter of\nintroduction to St. Petersburg. It never entered into his imagination\nwhen leaving London that he should want any; he did not dream that the\nwill-o\u2019-the-wisp he was chasing would have led him so far. But he was\nhere now, and he must find some one to steer him safe through quicksands\nand sunken rocks.\n\nThere was no doubt an English lawyer in the city to whom he could safely\napply. The landlord of the Peterhof gave him the address of one. It was a\nRussian name, but he assured Clide that it was that of the English lawyer\nof St. Petersburg, who managed all the law affairs of English residents.\nClide went to this gentleman\u2019s office, and found a small, urbane little\nman, who spoke English with a very pure accent and fluently, but with\nMuscovite written on every line of his face. It was of no consequence,\nhowever, as he showed his client in the first few questions he put that\nhe was in the habit of dealing with English people and transacting\nconfidential and intricate cases for them. The present one he frankly\nadmitted was without precedent in his legal experience, and his advice to\nClide was pretty much the same as the consul\u2019s, reinforced, however, by a\nrather startling argument.\n\n\u201cYou must first prove beyond a doubt that it is not a case of mistaken\nidentity, and, even when this is done, you have to consider whether it\nis expedient to run the risks that must attend any active proceedings\nagainst the persons in question. Let us consider the facts as they\nstand, setting aside possible antecedents. The lady is engaged here\nfor the season. I can guarantee that much. I heard her repeatedly last\nyear, and the announcement, on the night of her last appearance, that\nshe was to return next season, was received with an enthusiasm that I\ncannot describe. She is, therefore, an established favorite with the\npublic. This in itself is a fact fraught with danger to any one seeking\nto molest her--I use the word from the point of view of the public--any\nperson interfering with so important a branch of their pleasure as the\nopera would expose himself to disagreeable consequences. The government\nis paternally anxious that the people should be amused. It is not\nwise to thwart a paternal government.\u2026 The Czar, moreover, has shown\ndecided appreciation of this prima donna. He condescended to receive\nher into the imperial box and himself clasp a costly diamond bracelet\non her arm. He and the rest of the royal family are to be present at\nher first reappearance. No one, be they ever so guilty, can be attacked\nwith impunity while under the favor of the imperial smile. A paternal\ngovernment is not trammelled by the conventionalisms and routine that\ncheck the action of other forms of government; it acts promptly,\ndecisively. If you meddle in this matter rashly, you may find yourself in\nvery unpleasant circumstances.\u201d\n\n\u201cI should agree with all you say if I were a subject of the Russian\ngovernment,\u201d said Clide, \u201cbut I am an Englishman; surely that makes a\ndifference?\u201d\n\nThe lawyer smiled grimly.\n\n\u201cI would not advise you to count upon it for security. I have known\nsome Englishmen whose nationality did not prove such a talisman as they\nexpected.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou mean that they have been imprisoned without offence or trial,\ntreated like Russian subjects?\u201d Clide\u2019s lip curled under his moustache as\nhe emitted the monstrous proposition.\n\n\u201cI mean to give you the best advice in my power,\u201d returned the urbane\nlawyer with unruffled coolness. \u201cYou have come to me for counsel. You are\nfree to follow it or not as you see good.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo far, you have given me only negative advice. You tell me what I must\nnot do; can you tell me nothing that I can and ought to do?\u201d said Clide.\n\n\u201cFor the present, I can only urge you to be prudent. One rash act may\nprecipitate you into a still worse dilemma than the present. See this\nlady for yourself, and see the man who accompanies her. I do not advise\nyou to speak to them, nor even to let them know of your presence here,\nstill less of your intentions. The man, from what you already know of\nhim, is likely to be an unscrupulous fellow, a dangerous enemy to cope\nwith. He--on account of his pupil or niece--has patrons in high place. If\nhe got wind of your designs, he might frustrate them in a manner \u2026 that\n\u2026 that you don\u2019t foresee.\u2026\u201d The lawyer paused, and bent his sharp green\neyes on Clide with a meaning that was not to be misunderstood.\n\n\u201cYou mean that the government would connive at or assist him in some\npersonal violence to me?\u201d\n\n\u201cI mean to advise you honestly. I might put you off with a sham, or lay\na trap for you; I should be well paid for it. But I traffic as little\nas possible in that sort of thing, and _never_ with an English client.\u201d\nIt was impossible to doubt the genuine frankness in this assurance,\ncoupled as it was with the implied admission that the lawyer was less\nincorruptible to native clients. Clide was convinced the man was dealing\nfairly by him.\n\n\u201cAnd when I have seen them both, and thus put a seal on certainty--what\nnext?\u201d\n\n\u201cWait until the season is over; then follow them to their next\ndestination, out of Russia, and take counsel with a shrewd legal man\nof the place. My own opinion is that your wisest course would be to do\nnothing until you can attack the affair in England: the mere fact of\nbeing a foreigner puts barriers in the way of the law for helping you\nanywhere; but, as you value your liberty, don\u2019t interfere with a prima\ndonna who is in favor with the Court of St. Petersburg--it were safer for\nyou to play with fire.\u201d\n\nClide laid a large fee on the lawyer\u2019s green table, and wished him good\nmorning.\n\nHe hesitated as he was stepping into his fly. Should he go to the British\nEmbassy, and lay the whole story before Lord X----, and so place one\nstrong barrier between him and the monstrous possibilities with which the\nlawyer had threatened him? He stood for a moment with his hand on the\ndoor, which Stanton was holding open for him; his forehead had that hard\nline straight down between the horizontal bars over his eyes that had\nonce so scared Franceline. \u201cTo the hotel!\u201d he said, slamming the door,\nand Stanton jumped up beside the coachman.\n\nThey had gone about a hundred yards when the window was pulled down in\nfront, and Clide called out: \u201cTo the British Embassy!\u201d\n\nThe horse\u2019s head was turned that way. While they were rattling over the\nstones, Clide was arguing his change of resolution, and trying to justify\nit. \u201cI will burn my ship and take the consequences. What balderdash he\ntalked about the danger of letting the man know of my intentions! How\nthe deuce could they harm me? If I were a Russian, no doubt; but the\ngovernment would hardly run their neck into such a noose as assault or\nimprisonment of a British subject for the sake of a popular prima donna!\nPshaw! I was an idiot to mind him.\u201d\n\nThe coachman pulled up before the British Embassy. Two private carriages\nstopped at the same moment, gentlemen alighted from them and ran up the\nsteps. Stanton held the door open for his master, but Clide did not move;\nhe sat with his head bent forward, examining his boots, to all appearance\nunconscious of his valet\u2019s presence.\n\n\u201cHere we are, sir; this is the Embassy,\u201d said Stanton. But Clide sat\ndumb, as if he were glued to the seat. At last, starting from his revery,\nhe said \u201cHome!\u201d and flung himself back in the carriage.\n\n\u201cThat fever has left him a bit queer,\u201d thought Stanton, as he closed the\ndoor on his capricious master.\n\n\u201cWhat a fool\u2019s errand it would be!\u201d muttered Clide to himself; \u201cand what\nhave I to say to Lord X----? If it _should_ turn out to be a case of\nmistaken identity.\u2026 The lawyer\u2019s advice is after all the safest and the\nmost rational.\u201d\n\nTO BE CONTINUED.\n\n\nSPACE.\n\nII.\n\nIt is of the utmost importance in the philosophical investigation\nin which we have engaged to bear in mind that the power by which we\nattain to the knowledge of the intrinsic nature of things is not our\nimagination, but our intellect. The office of imagination is to form\nsensible representations of what lies at the surface of the things\napprehended; the intellect alone is competent to reach what lies under\nthat surface, that is, the essential principles of the thing, and their\nontological relations. This remark is so obvious that it may seem\nsuperfluous; but our imagination has such a power in fashioning our\nthoughts, and such an obtrusive manner of interfering with our mental\nprocesses, that we need to be reminded, in season and out of season, of\nour liability to mistake its suggestions for intellectual conceptions.\nWhat we have said about absolute space in our past article shows that\neven renowned philosophers are liable to such mistakes; for nothing\nbut imagination could have led Balmes, Descartes, and many others, to\nconfound absolute space with the material extension of bodies. As to\nrelative space, the danger of confounding its intellectual notion with\nour sensible representation of it, is, perhaps, less serious, when we\nhave understood the nature of absolute space; yet, here too we are\nobliged to guard against the incursions of the imaginative faculty, which\nwill not cease to obtrude itself, in the shape of an auxiliary, upon our\nintellectual ground.\n\nAbsolute space cannot become relative unless it be extrinsically\nterminated, or occupied, by distinct terms. Hence, in passing from the\nconsideration of absolute space to that of relative space, the first\nquestion by which we are met is the following:\n\nIs absolute space intrinsically modified or affected by being occupied?\nor, _Does the creation of a material point in space entail an intrinsic\nmodification of absolute space?_\n\nThe answer to this question cannot be doubtful. Absolute space is not\nand cannot be intrinsically affected or modified by the presence of a\nmaterial point, or of any number of material points. We have shown that\nabsolute space is nothing else than the virtuality of God\u2019s immensity;\nand since no intrinsic change can be conceived as possible in God\u2019s\nattributes or in the range of their comprehension, it is evident that\nabsolute space cannot be intrinsically modified by any work of creation.\nOn the other hand, nothing can be intrinsically modified unless it\nreceives in itself, as in a subject, the modifying act; for all intrinsic\nmodifications result from corresponding impressions made on the subject\nwhich is modified. Thus the modifications of the eye, of the ear, and of\nother senses, result from impressions made on them, and received in them\nas in so many subjects. But the creation of a material point in space\nis not the position of a thing in it as in a subject; for, if absolute\nspace received the material point in itself as in a subject, this point\nwould be a mere accident; as nothing but accidents exist in a subject,\nand since it is manifest that material elements are not accidents, it is\nplain that they are not received in space as in a subject.\n\nHence the creation of any number of material points in space implies\nnothing but the _extrinsic_ termination of absolute space, which\naccordingly remains altogether unaffected and unmodified. Just as a body\ncreated at the surface of the earth immediately acquires weight, without\ncausing the least intrinsic change in the attractive power which is the\nsource of all weights on earth, so does a material element, created in\nabsolute space, acquire its ubication without causing the least intrinsic\nchange in absolute space which is the source of all possible ubications.\nA material element has its formal ubication inasmuch as it occupies a\npoint in space. This point, as contained in absolute space, is virtual;\nbut, as occupied by the element, or marked out by a point of matter, it\nis formal. Thus the formality of the ubication consists in the actual\ntermination and real occupation of a virtual point by an extrinsic term\ncorresponding to it.\n\nThe formal ubication of an element is a mere relativity, or a\n_respectus_. The formal reason, or foundation, of this relativity is the\nreality through which the term ubicated communicates with absolute space,\nviz., the real point which is common to both, though not in the same\nmanner, as it is _virtual_ in space, and _formal_ in the extrinsic term.\nA material element in space is therefore nothing but a term related by\nits ubication to divine immensity as existing in a more perfect manner in\nthe same ubication. But since the formality of the contingent ubication\nexclusively belongs to the contingent being itself, absolute space\nreceives nothing from it except a relative extrinsic denomination.\n\nSome will say: To have a capacity of containing something, and to contain\nit actually, are things intrinsically different. But absolute space, when\nvoid, has a mere capacity of containing bodies, whilst, when occupied,\nit actually contains them. Therefore absolute space is intrinsically\nmodified by occupation.\n\nTo this we answer, that the word \u201ccapacity,\u201d on which the objection is\nbuilt up, is a mischievous one, no less indeed than the word \u201cpotency,\u201d\nwhich, when used indeterminately, is liable to opposite interpretations,\nand leads to contradictory conclusions.\n\nThe capacity of containing bodies which is commonly predicated of\nabsolute space, is not a passive potency destined to be actuated by\ncontingent occupation; it is, on the contrary, the formal reason of all\ncontingent ubications, since it contains already in an infinitely better\nmanner all the ubications of the bodies by which it may be occupied. To\nbe occupied, and not to be occupied, are not, of course, the same thing;\nbut it does not follow from this that space unoccupied is intrinsically\ndifferent from space occupied; it follows only, that, when space is\noccupied, a contingent being corresponds to it as an extrinsic term,\nand gives it an extrinsic denomination. In other terms, everything\nwhich occupies space, occupies it by ubication. Now every ubication is\nthe participation in the contingent being of a reality which absolute\nspace already contains in a better manner. Consequently, the capacity\nof containing bodies, which is predicated of space, already _contains\nactually_ the same ubications, which, when bodies are created, are\nformally attributed to the bodies themselves.\n\nThis answer is, we think, philosophically evident. But, as our\nimagination, too, must be helped to rise to the level of intellectual\nconceptions, we will illustrate our answer by an example. Man has\nfeatures which can be reflected in any number of mirrors, so as to form\nin them an image of him. This \u201ccapacity\u201d of having images of self is\ncalled \u201cexemplarity,\u201d and consists in the possession of that of which an\nimage can be produced. Hence, man\u2019s exemplarity actually, though only\nvirtually, contains in itself all the images that it can form in any\nmirror; and when the image is formed, man\u2019s exemplarity gives existence\nto it, but receives nothing from it, except a relative denomination drawn\nfrom the extrinsic term in which it is portrayed. In a like manner, God\u2019s\nomnipotence, and his other attributes, are mirrored in every created\nthing, and their \u201ccapacity\u201d of being imitated in a finite degree arises\nfrom the fact that God\u2019s attributes contain already in an eminent manner\nthe whole reality which can be made to exist formally in the contingent\nthings. Hence, when these contingent things are created, God gives\nexistence to them, but receives nothing from them, except a relative\ndenomination drawn from the extrinsic terms in which his perfections\nare mirrored. In the same manner, too, when a material element is\ncreated, it receives its being, and its mode of being in space, that is,\nits ubication, which is a finite image or imitation of God\u2019s infinite\nubication; but it gives nothing to the divine ubication, except the\nextrinsic denomination; just as the image in the mirror gives nothing to\nthe body of which it is the image, but simply borrows its existence from\nit.\n\nFrom this it follows that material elements are in space _not by\ninhesion, but by correlation_, each point which is formally marked out by\nan element corresponding to a virtual point of space, to which it gives\nan extrinsic denomination. The said correlation consists in this, that\nthe contingent term, by its formal mode of existing in the point it marks\nout, really imitates the eminent mode of being of divine immensity in the\nsame point; and from this it follows again, that whatever new reality\nresults from the existence of a material element in space, belongs\nentirely to the element itself, and constitutes its mode of being.\n\nThe relation between the contingent being as existing formally in its\nubication, and divine immensity as existing eminently in the same\nubication, is called \u201cpresence.\u201d\n\nWe must notice, before we go further, that the virtuality of God\u2019s\nimmensity, when considered in relation to the distinct terms by which it\nis extrinsically terminated, assumes distinct relative denominations,\nand therefore, though it is one entitatively, it becomes manifold\nterminatively. In this latter sense it is true to say that the virtuality\nof divine immensity which is terminated by a certain term _A_, is\ndistinct from the virtuality which is terminated by a certain other\nterm _B_; and when a material point moves in space, we may say that its\nubication ceases to correspond to one virtuality of immensity, and begins\nto correspond to another. Such virtualities, as we have just remarked,\nare not entitatively distinct, for immensity has but _one_ infinite\nvirtuality. Yet this _one_ virtuality, owing to the possibility of\ninfinite distinct terminations, is capable of being related to any number\nof distinct extrinsic terms, and of receiving from their distinct mode\nof existing in it any number of distinct relative denominations. When,\ntherefore, we speak of distinct virtualities of divine immensity, we\nsimply refer to the distinct extrinsic terminations of one and the same\ninfinite virtuality, in the same manner as, when we speak of distinct\ncreations, we do not mean that God\u2019s creative act is manifold in itself,\nbut only that its extrinsic termination to one being, v. gr. the sun, is\nnot its termination to other beings, v. gr. the stars. And in a similar\nmanner, when a word is heard by many persons, its sound in their ears\nis distinct on account of distinct terminations, though the word is not\ndistinct from itself.\n\nWe have explained the origin and nature of formal ubication; we have\nyet to point out its division. Ubication may be considered either\n_objectively_ or _subjectively_. Objectively considered, it is nothing\nelse than a _point in space marked out by a simple point of matter_.\nWe say, _by a simple point_ of matter, because distinct material\npoints in space have distinct ubications. Hence, we cannot approve\nthose philosophers who confound the _ubi_ with the _locus_, that is,\nthe ubication with the place occupied by a body. It is true that those\nphilosophers held the continuity of matter; but they should have seen\nall the same that all dimensions involved distinct ubications, and that\nevery term designable in such dimensions has an ubication of its own\nindependent of the ubications of every other designable term; which\nproves that the _locus_ of a body implies a great number of ubications,\nand therefore cannot be considered as the synonym of _ubi_.\n\nIf the ubication is considered subjectively, that is, as an appurtenance\nof the subject of which it is predicated, it may be defined as _the mode\nof being of a simple element in space_. This mode consists of a mere\nrelativity; for it results from the extrinsic termination of absolute\nspace, as already explained. Hence, the ubication is not _received_ in\nthe subject of which it is predicated, and does not _inhere_ in it, but,\nlike all other relativities and connotations, simply connects it with its\ncorrelative, and lies, so to say, between the two.[149]\n\nBut, although it consists of a mere relativity, the ubication still\nadmits of being divided into _absolute_ and _relative_, according as\nit is conceived absolutely as it is in itself, or compared with other\nubications. Nor is this strange; for relative entities can be considered\nboth as to what they are in themselves, and as to what they are to one\nanother. Likeness, for instance, is a relation; and yet when we know the\nlikeness of Peter to Paul, and the likeness of Peter to John, we can\nstill compare the one likeness with the other, and pronounce that the one\nis greater than the other.\n\nWhen the ubication is considered simply as a termination of absolute\nspace without regard for anything else, then we call it _absolute_, and\nwe define it as _the mode of being of an element in absolute space_, by\nwhich the element is constituted in the divine presence. This absolute\nubication is an _essential mode_ of the material element no less than\nits dependence from the first cause, and is altogether immutable so long\nas the element exists; for, on the one hand, the element cannot exist\nbut within the domain of divine immensity, and, on the other, it cannot\nhave different modes of being with regard to it, as absolute space is\nthe same all throughout, and the element, however much we may try to\nimagine different positions for it, must always be in the centre, so to\nsay, of that infinite expanse. Hence, absolute ubication is altogether\nunchangeable.\n\nWhen the ubication of one element is compared with that of another\nelement in order to ascertain their mutual relation in space, then the\nubication is called _relative_, and, as such, it may be defined as _the\nmode of terminating a relation in space_. This ubication is changeable,\nnot in its intrinsic entity, but in its relative formality; and it is\nonly under this formality that the ubication can be ranked among the\npredicamental accidents; for this changeable formality is the only thing\nin it which bears the stamp of an accidental entity.\n\nThe consideration of relative ubications leads us directly to the\nconsideration of the relation existing between two points distinctly\nubicated in space. Such a relation is called _distance_. Distance is\ncommonly considered as a quantity; yet it is not primarily a quantity,\nbut simply the relation existing between two ubications with room for\nmovement from the one to the other. Nevertheless, this very possibility\nof movement from one point to another gives us a sufficient foundation\nfor considering the relation of distance as a virtual dimensive quantity.\nFor the movement which is possible between two distant points may be\ngreater or less, according to the different manners in which these points\nare related. Now, more and less imply quantity.\n\nThe quantity of distance is essentially continuous. For it is by\ncontinuous movement that the length of the distance is measured. The\npoint which by its movement measures the distance, describes a straight\nline by the shifting of its ubication from one term of the distance to\nthe other. The distance, as a relation, is the object of the intellect,\nbut, as a virtual quantity, it is the object of imagination also.\nWe cannot conceive distances as relations without at the same time\napprehending them as quantities. For, as we cannot estimate distances\nexcept by the extent of the movement required in order to pass from one\nof its terms to the other, we always conceive distances as relative\nquantities of length; and yet distances, objectively, are only relations,\nby which such quantities of length are determined. The true quantity of\nlength is _the line_ which is drawn, or can be drawn, by the movement\nof a point from term to term. In fact, a line which reaches from term\nto term exhibits in itself the extent of the movement by which it is\ngenerated, and it may rightly be looked upon as a track of it, inasmuch\nas the point, which describes it, formally marks by its gliding ubication\nall the intermediate space. The marking is, of course, a transient\nact; but transient though it is, it gives to the intermediate space a\npermanent connotation; for a fact once passed, remains a fact for ever.\nThus the gliding ubication leaves a permanent, intelligible, though\ninvisible, mark of its passage; and this we call a geometric line. The\nline is therefore, formally, a quantity of length, whereas the distance\nis only virtually a quantity, inasmuch as it determines the length of\nthe movement by which the line can be described. Nevertheless, since we\ncannot, as already remarked, conceive distances without referring the one\nof its terms to the other through space, and, therefore, without drawing,\nat least mentally, a line from the one to the other, all distances, as\nknown to us, are already measured in some manner, and consequently they\nexhibit themselves as formal quantities. Distance is the base of all\ndimensions in space, and its extension is measured by movement. It is\ntherefore manifest that no extension in space is conceivable without\nmovement, and all quantity of extension is measured by movement.\n\nWe have said that distance is a relation between two terms as existing in\ndistinct ubications; and we have now to inquire what is the foundation of\nsuch a relation. This question is of high philosophical importance, as on\nits solution depends whether some of our arguments against Pantheism are\nor are not conclusive. Common people, and a great number of philosophers\ntoo, confound relations with their foundation, and do not reflect that\nwhen they talk of distances as _relative spaces_, they do not speak with\nsufficient distinctness.\n\nWe are going to show that relative space must be distinguished from\ndistances, as well as from geometric surfaces and volumes, although these\nquantities are also called \u201crelative spaces\u201d by an improper application\nof words. Relative space is not an intrinsic constituent, but only\nan extrinsic foundation, of these relative quantities; hence these\nquantities cannot be styled \u201crelative spaces\u201d without attributing to the\nformal results what strictly belongs to their formal reason.\n\nWhat is relative space? Whoever understands the meaning of the words\nwill say that relative space is that through which the movement from a\npoint to another point is possible. Now, the possibility of movement\ncan be viewed under three different aspects. First, as a possibility\ndependent on the active power of a mover; for movement is impossible\nwithout a mover. Secondly, as a possibility dependent on the passivity of\nthe movable term; for no movement can be imparted to a term which does\nnot receive the momentum. Thirdly, as a possibility dependent on the\nperviousness of space which allows a free passage to the moving point;\nfor this is absolutely necessary for the possibility of movement.\n\nIn the present question, it is evident that the possibility of movement\ncannot be understood either in the first or in the second of these three\nmanners; for our question does not regard the relation of the agent to\nthe patient, or of the patient to the agent, but merely the relation of\none ubication to another, and the freedom for movement between them. If\nthe possibility of movement were taken here as originating in a motive\npower, such a possibility would be greater or less according to the\ngreater or less power; and thus the relativity of two given ubications\nwould be changed without altering their relation in space; which is\nabsurd. And if the possibility of movement were taken as resulting\nfrom the passivity of the term moved, then, since this passivity is a\nmere indifference to receive the motion, and since indifference has no\ndegrees, it would follow that the possibility of movement would be\nalways the same; and therefore the relativity of the ubications would\nremain the same, even though the ubications were relatively changed;\nwhich is another absurdity. Accordingly, the possibility of movement\nwhich is involved in the conception of relative space is that which\narises from space itself, whose virtual extension virtually contains all\npossible lines of movement, and allows any such lines to be formally\ndrawn through it by actual movement.\n\nFrom this it follows that relative space is nothing else than _absolute\nspace as extrinsically terminated by distinct terms, and affording\nroom for movement between them_. It follows, further, that this space\nis relative, not because it is itself related, but because it is that\nthrough which the extrinsic terms are related. It is actively, not\npassively, relative; it is the _ratio_, not the _rationatum_, the\nfoundation, not the result, of the relativities. It follows, also, that\nthe foundation of the relation of distance is nothing else than space\nas terminated by two extrinsic terms, and affording room for movement\nfrom the one to the other. This space is at the same time absolute\nand relative; absolute as to its entity, relative as to the extrinsic\ndenomination derived from the relation of which it is the formal reason.\n\nThe distinction between absolute and relative space is therefore to be\ntaken, not from space itself, but from its comparison with absolute or\nwith relative ubications. Space, as absolute, exhibits the possibility\nof all absolute ubications; as relative, it exhibits the possibility of\nall ubicational changes. Absolute space may therefore be styled simply\n\u201cthe region of ubications,\u201d whilst relative space maybe defined as \u201cthe\nregion of movement.\u201d\n\nThis notion of relative space will not fail to be opposed by those who\nthink that all real space results from the dimensions of bodies. Their\nobjections, however, need not detain us here, as we have already shown\nthat the grounds of their argumentation are inadmissible. The same notion\nwill be opposed with greater plausibility by those who confound the\nformal reason of local relations with the relations themselves, under the\ncommon name of relative space. Their objections are based on the popular\nlanguage, as used, even by philosophers, in connection with relative\nspace. We will reduce these objections to two heads, and answer them,\ntogether with two others drawn from other sources, that our reader may\nthus form a clearer judgment of the doctrine we have developed.\n\n_First difficulty._ The entity of a relation is the entity of its\nfoundation. If, then, the foundation of the relation of distance is\nabsolute space, or the virtuality of God\u2019s immensity, it follows that the\nentity of distance is an uncreated entity. But this cannot be admitted,\nexcept by Pantheists. Therefore the relation of distance is not founded\non the virtuality of God\u2019s immensity.\n\nThis difficulty arises from a false supposition. The entity of the\nrelation is _not_ the entity of its foundation, but it is the entity of\nthe connotation (_respectus_) which arises from the existence of the\nterms under such a foundation. Likeness, for instance, is a relation\nresulting between two bodies, say, white, on account of their common\nproperty, say, whiteness. Whiteness is therefore the foundation of their\nlikeness; but whiteness it not likeness. On the contrary, the whiteness\nwhich founds this relation is still competent to found innumerable\nother relations; a thing which would be impossible if the entity of the\nfoundation were not infinitely superior to the entity of the relation\nwhich results from it.\n\nThis is even more evident in our case; for the foundation of the\nrelation between two ubications is an entity altogether extrinsic to\nthe ubications themselves, as we have already shown. Evidently, such an\nentity cannot be the relativity of those ubications. The relation of\ndistance is neither absolute nor relative space, but only the mode of\nbeing of one term in space with respect to another term in space. Now,\nsurely no one who has any knowledge of things will maintain that space,\neither absolute or relative, is a mode of being. The moon is distant from\nthe earth; and therefore there is space, and possibility of movement,\nbetween the moon and the earth. But is this space _the relation_ of\ndistance? No. It is the ground of the relation. The relation itself\nconsists in the mode of being of the moon with respect to the earth; and,\nevidently, this mode is not space.\n\nThe assumption that the entity of the relation is the entity of its\nfoundation may be admitted in the case of transcendental relations,\ninasmuch as the actuality of beings, which results from the conspiration\nof their essential principles, identifies itself _in concreto_ with\nthe beings themselves. But the same cannot be said of predicamental\nrelations. It would be absurd to say that the dependence of the world\non its Creator is the creative act; nor would it be less absurd to say\nthat the relativity of a son to his father is the act of generation, or\nthat the fraternity of James and John is the same thing as the identity\nof Zebedee, their father, with himself. And yet these absurdities, and\nmany others, must be admitted, if we admit the assumption that the entity\nof predicamental relations is the entity of their foundation. Hence the\nassumption must be discarded as false; and the objection, which rested\nentirely on this assumption, needs no further discussion.\n\nWe must, however, take this opportunity to again warn the student of the\nnecessity of not confounding under one and the same name the relative\nspace with the relations of things existing in space. This confusion is\nvery frequent, as we often hear of distances, surfaces, and volumes of\nbodies spoken of as \u201crelative spaces,\u201d which, properly speaking, they\nare not. We ourselves are now and then obliged to use this inaccurate\nlanguage, owing to the difficulty of conveying our thoughts to common\nreaders without employing common phrases. But we would suggest that, to\navoid all misconstruction of such phrases, the relative space, of which\nwe have determined the notion, might be called \u201c_fundamental_ relative\nspace,\u201d whilst the relations of things as existing in space might\nreceive the name of \u201c_resultant_ relative spaces.\u201d At any rate, without\nsome epithets of this sort, we cannot turn to good account the popular\nphraseology on the subject. Such a phraseology expresses things as they\nare represented in our imagination, not as they are defined by our\nreason. Distances are intervals between certain points in space, surfaces\nare intervals between certain lines in space, volumes are intervals\nbetween certain surfaces in spaces; but these intervals are no _parts_\nof space, though they are very frequently so called, but only relations\nin space. Space is one, not many; it has no parts, and, whether you call\nit absolute or relative, it cannot be cut to pieces. What is called an\ninterval _of_ space should rather be called an interval _in_ space; for\nit is not a portion of space, but a relation of things in space; it is\nnot a length of space, but the length of the movement possible between\nthe extrinsic terms of space; it is not a divisible extension, but the\nground on which movement can extend with its divisible extension. In\nthe smallest conceivable interval of space there is God, with all his\nimmensity. To affirm that intervals of space are distinct spaces would\nbe to cut God\u2019s immensity into pieces, by giving it a distinct being in\nreally distinct intervals. It is therefore necessary to concede that,\nwhilst the intervals are distinct, the space on which they have their\nfoundation is one and the same.\n\nPantheists have taken advantage of the confusion of fundamental space\nwith the resulting relations in space, to spread their absurd theories.\nIf we grant them that _distance is space_, how can we refute their\nassertion that distance is a form under which divine substance, or the\nAbsolute, makes an apparition? For, if distance is space, and space is\nno creature, distance consists of something uncreated (and therefore\ndivine) under a contingent form. This is not the place for us to refute\nPantheism; what we aim at is simply to point out the need we have of\nexpressing our thoughts on space with philosophical accuracy, lest the\nPantheists may shield themselves with our own loose phraseology.\n\nGod is everywhere, and touches, so to say, every contingent ubication by\nhis presence to every ubicated thing. But the contingent ubications are\nnot spaces, nor anything intrinsic to space; they are merely extrinsic\nterms, corresponding to space, as we have explained; and therefore such\nubications are not apparitions of the divine substance, but apparitions\nof contingent things; they are not points of divine immensity, but points\ncontingently projected on the virtuality of God\u2019s immensity. It is as\nvain to pretend that contingent ubications are points of space, as it\nis vain to pretend that contingent essences are the divine substance.\nPantheists, indeed, have said that, because the essences of things are\ncontained in God, the substance of all things must be God\u2019s substance;\nbut their paralogism is manifest. For the essences of things are in\nGod, not formally with the entity which they have in created things,\nbut eminently and virtually, that is, in an infinitely better manner.\nThe formal essences of things are _only_ in the things themselves, and\nthey are extrinsic terms of creation, imperfect images of what exists\nperfect in God. In the same manner the ubications of things are not in\nGod formally, but eminently and virtually. They formally belong to the\nthings that are ubicated. So also the intervals of space are in God\neminently, not formally; they formally arise from extrinsic terminations,\nand therefore are mere correlations of creatures. This suffices to show\nthat distances and other relations in space involve nothing divine in\ntheir entity, although they are grounded on the existence and universal\npresence of God, in whom \u201cwe live, and move, and have our being.\u201d\n\n_Second difficulty._--If the foundation of local relations is uncreated,\nit is always the same; and therefore it will cause all such relations\nto be always the same. Hence, all distances would be equal; which is\nmanifestly false.\n\nThis difficulty arises from confounding the absolute entity of the\nthing which is the foundation of the relation, with the formal manner\nof founding the relation. The same absolute entity may found different\nrelations by giving to the terms a different relativity; for the same\nabsolute entity founds different relations whenever it connects the\nterms of the relation in a different manner. Thus, when the entity of\nthe foundation is a generic or a universal notion, it can give rise to\nrelations of a very different degree. Taking _animality_, for instance,\nas the foundation of the relation, we may compare one hound with another,\none wolf with another, one bird with another, or we may compare the\nhound with the wolf, the wolf with the bird, the bird with the lion,\netc.; and we shall find as many different relations, all grounded on\nthe same foundation--that is, on animality. In fact, there will be as\nmany different relations of likeness as there are different animals\ncompared. Now, if one general ratio suffices to do this, on account\nof its universality, which extends infinitely in its application to\nconcrete things, it is plain that as much and more can be done by the\ninfinite virtuality of God\u2019s immensity, which can be terminated by an\ninfinite variety of extrinsic terminations. It is the proper attribute\nof an infinite virtuality to contain in itself the reason of the being\nof infinite terms, and of their becoming connected with one another\nin infinite manners. This is what the infinite virtuality of divine\nimmensity can do with respect to ubicated terms. Such an infinite\nvirtuality is whole, though not wholly, in every point and interval of\nspace; it is as entire between the two nearest molecules as between\nthe two remotest stars. Hence its absolute entity, though unchangeable\nitself, can have different extrinsic terminations; and, since it founds\nthe relations in question inasmuch as it has such different terminations,\nconsequently it can found as many different local relations as it can\nhave different extrinsic terminations. A hound and a wolf, as we have\nsaid, inasmuch as they are animals, are alike; and the wolf and the bird,\nalso, inasmuch as they are animals, are alike; but the likeness in the\nsecond case is not the same as in the first, because the animality, which\nis one in the abstract, is different in the concrete terms to which it is\napplied. Hence the difference, or entitative distance, so to say, between\nthe wolf and the hound is less than the entitative distance between the\nwolf and the bird, although the ground of the comparison is one and the\nsame. In a like manner, the distance from a molecule to a neighboring\nmolecule is less than the distance from a star to another star, although\nthe ground of the relation be one and the same; with this difference,\nhowever, that in the case of the animals above mentioned the relation\nhas an intrinsic foundation, because \u201canimality\u201d is intrinsic to the\nterms compared; whilst in the case of local distances the relation has\nan extrinsic foundation; for the ubications compared are nothing but\nextrinsic terms of space.\n\n_Third difficulty._--Distances evidently intercept portions of space, and\ndiffer from one another according as they intercept more or less of it.\nBut, if space is the virtuality of divine immensity, such portions cannot\nbe admitted; for the virtuality of divine immensity cannot be divided\ninto parts distinct from one another.\n\nThis difficulty arises from the confusion of that which belongs to space\nintrinsically, with that which belongs to it by extrinsic denomination\nonly. Space in itself has no parts; and therefore distance cannot\nintercept a portion of the entity of space. Nevertheless, parts are\nattributed to space by extrinsic denomination, that is, inasmuch as\nthe movements, which space makes possible between given terms, do not\nextend beyond those terms, while other movements are possible outside\nof the given terms. Hence, since space is infinite and affords room\nfor an infinite length of movement in all directions, the space which\ncorresponds to a limited movement has been called an interval of space\nand a portion of space. But this denomination is extrinsic, and does not\nimply that space has portions, or that the entity of space is divisible.\nThat such a denomination is extrinsic, there can be no doubt, for it is\ntaken from the consideration of the limited movement possible between\nthe terms of the distance, as all distances are known and estimated by\nmovement. Indeed, we are wont to say that \u201cmovement measures space,\u201d\nwhich expression seems to justify the conclusion that the space measured\nis a finite portion of infinite space; but, though the expression is\nmuch used (from want of a better one), it must not be interpreted in a\nmaterial sense. Its real meaning is simply that movement \u201cmeasures the\nlength of the distance\u201d in space, or that movement \u201cmeasures its own\nextent\u201d in space--that is, the length or the extent, not of space, but\nof what space causes to be extrinsically possible between two extrinsic\nterms.\n\nThis will be still more manifest by referring to the evident truth\nalready established, that all ubications as compared with the entity\nof space are unchangeable, because the thing ubicated cannot have two\nmodes of being in the infinite expanse of space, but, wherever it be, is\nalways, so to say, in the centre of it. This proves that the movement\nof a point between the terms of a given distance measures nothing else\nthan _its own length_ in space; for, had it to measure _space itself_, it\nwould have to take successively different positions with regard to it,\nwhich we know to be impossible. We must therefore conclude that distance\ndoes not properly intercept space, though it determines the relative\nlength of a line which can be drawn by a point moving through space; for\nthis line is not a line of space, but a line of movement. In other words,\ndistance is not the limit of the space said to be intercepted, but of the\nmovement possible between the distant terms.\n\nAs this answer may not satisfy our imagination as much as it does\nour intellect, and as our habit of expressing things as they are\nrepresented in our imagination makes it difficult to speak correctly of\nwhat transcends the reach of this lower faculty, we will make use of a\ncomparison which, in our opinion, by putting the intelligible in contact\nwith the sensible, will not fail to help us fully to realize the truth\nof what has been hitherto said.\n\nLet God create a man, a horse, and a tree. The difference, or, as we will\ncall it, the entitative distance, between the man and the horse is less\nthan between the man and the tree, as is evident. Yet the man, the horse,\nand the tree are extrinsic terms of _the same_ divine omnipotence, which\nneither is divisible nor admits of more or less. Now, can we say that,\nbecause the man is entitatively more distant from the tree than from the\nhorse, there must be _more of divine omnipotence_ between the man and the\ntree than between the man and the horse? It would be folly to say so.\nThe only consequence which can be deduced from the greater entitative\ndistance of the man and of the tree, is, that a greater multitude of\ncreatures (extrinsic terms of divine omnipotence) is possible between the\nman and the tree, than between the man and the horse. The reader will\nreadily see how the comparison applies to our subject; for the two cases\nare quite similar. Can we say, then, that, because two points in space\nare more distant than two other points, there must be _more of divine\nimmensity_, or of its virtuality, between the former than between the\nlatter? By no means. The only consequence which can be deduced from the\ngreater distance of the two former points is, that a greater multitude of\nubications (extrinsic terms of immensity) is possible between them, than\nbetween the two others. This greater multitude of possible ubications\nconstitutes the possibility of a greater length of movement; and shows\nthe truth of what we have maintained, viz., that distance endues the\naspect of quantity through the consideration of the greater or less\nextent of the movement possible between its terms, and not through a\ngreater or less \u201cportion\u201d of space intercepted.[150]\n\nThe difficulty is thus fully answered. Nevertheless, as to the phrases,\n\u201ca portion of space,\u201d \u201can interval of space,\u201d \u201cspace measured by\nmovement,\u201d and a few others of a like nature, we readily admit that their\nuse, having become so common in the popular language, we cannot avoid\nthem without exposing ourselves to the charge of affectation, nay, we\nmust use them, as we frequently do, in order to be better understood.\nBut we should remember that the common language has a kernel as well as\na shell, and that, when we have to determine the essential notions and\nthe intelligible relations of things, we must break the shell that we may\nreach the kernel.\n\n_Fourth difficulty._--The notions of space and of ubication above given\nimply a sort of vicious circle. For space is explained by the possibility\nof ubications, whilst ubications are said to be modes of being in space.\nTherefore neither space nor ubication is sufficiently defined.\n\nWe answer, that then only is a sort of vicious circle committed in\ndefining or explaining things, when an unknown entity is defined or\nexplained by means of another equally unknown. When, on the contrary, we\nexplain the common notions of such things as are immediately known and\nunderstood before any definition or explanation of them is given, there\nis no danger of a vicious circle. In such a case, things are sufficiently\nexplained if our definition or description of them agrees with the notion\nwe have acquired of them by immediate apprehension. We say that _Being_\nis that _which is_, and we explain the extension of time by referring\nto movement, while we also explain movement by referring to time and\nvelocity, and again we explain velocity by referring to the extension\nof time and movement. This is no vicious circle; for every one knows\nthese entities before hearing their formal definition. Now, the same\nis true with respect to space and ubication; for the notion of space\nis intuitive, and before we hear its philosophical definition, we know\nalready that it is the region of all possible ubications and movements.\n\nMoreover, such things as have a mutual connection, or as connote one\nanother, can be explained and defined by one another without a vicious\ncircle. Thus we say that a _father_ is one who has a _son_, and a _son_\nis one who has a _father_. In the same manner we define _the matter_ as\nthe essential term of a form, and _the form_ as the essential act of the\nmatter. Accordingly, since ubications are extrinsic terms of absolute\nspace, and space is the formal reason of their extrinsic possibility, it\nis plain that we can, without any fear of a vicious circle, define and\nexplain the former by the latter, and _vice versa_.\n\nFinally, no philosopher has ever defined space or explained it otherwise\nthan by reference to possible or actual ubications, nor was ubication\never described otherwise than as a mode of being in absolute or in\nrelative space. This shows that it is in the very nature of things that\nthe one should be explained by reference to the other. Hence it is that\neven our own definition of absolute space, which does not explicitly\nrefer to contingent ubications, refers to them implicitly. For when we\nsay that \u201cabsolute space is the virtuality, or extrinsic terminability,\nof divine immensity,\u201d we implicitly affirm the possibility of extrinsic\nterms, viz., of ubications.\n\nAnd here we will end our discussion on the entity of relative space; for\nwe do not think that there are other difficulties worthy of a special\nsolution. We have seen that relative space is entitatively identical\nwith absolute space, since it does not differ from it by any intrinsic\nreality, but only by an extrinsic denomination. We have shown that space\nis relative in an active, not in a passive sense, that is, as the formal\nreason, not as a result of extrinsic relations. We have also seen that\nthese extrinsic relations are usually called \u201crelative spaces,\u201d and that\nthis phrase should not be used in philosophy without some restrictive\nepithet, as it is calculated to mislead.\n\nLet us conclude with a remark on the known division of space into _real_\nand _imaginary_. This division cannot regard the entity of space,\nwhich is unquestionably real. It regards the reality or unreality of\nthe extrinsic terms conceived as having a relation in space. The true\nnotion of real, as contrasted with imaginary space, is the following:\nSpace is called _real_, when it is _really_ relative, viz., when it is\nextrinsically terminated by _real_ terms, between which it founds a\n_real_ relation; on the contrary, it is called _imaginary_, when the\nextrinsic terms do not exist in nature, but only in our imagination;\nfor, in such a case, space is not really terminated, and does not\nfound real relations, but both the terminations and the relations are\nsimply a fiction of our imagination. Thus it appears that void space,\nas containing none but imaginary relations, may justly be called\n\u201cimaginary,\u201d though in an absolute sense it is intrinsically real.\n\nHence we infer that the _indefinite_ space, which we imagine, when we\ncarry our thoughts beyond the limits of the material world, and which\nphilosophers have called \u201cimaginary,\u201d is not absolute, but relative\nspace, and is not imaginary in itself, but only as to its denomination of\nrelative, because where real terms do not exist there are only imaginary\nrelations, notwithstanding the reality of the entity through which we\nrefer the imaginary terms to one another.\n\nThat absolute space, considered in itself, cannot be called \u201cimaginary\u201d\nis evident, because absolute space is not an object of imagination.\nImagination cannot conceive space except in connection with imaginary\nterms so related as to offer the image of sensible dimensions. It is,\ntherefore, a blunder to confound imaginary and indefinite space with\nabsolute and infinite space. Indeed, our intellectual conception of\nabsolute and infinite space is always accompanied in our minds by a\nrepresentation of indefinite space; but this depends on the well-known\nconnection of our imaginative and intellectual operations: _Proprium\nest hominis intelligere cum phantasmate_; and we must be careful not\nto attribute to the object what has the reason of its being in the\nnatural condition of the subject. It was by this confusion of the\nobjective notion of space with our subjective manner of imagining it,\nthat Kant formed his false theory of subjective space. He mistook,\nas we have already remarked, with Balmes, the product of imagination\nfor a conception of the intellect, and confounded his phantasma of\nthe indefinite with the objectivity of the infinite. It was owing to\nthis same confusion that other philosophers made the reality of space\ndependent on real occupation, and denied the reality of vacuum. In\nvacuum, of course, they could find no real terms and no real relations,\nbut they could _imagine_ terms and relations. Hence they concluded that,\nsince vacuum supplied nothing but imaginary relations, void space was an\nimaginary, not a real, entity. This was a paralogism; for the reason why\nthose relations are imaginary is not the lack of real entity in absolute\nspace, but the absence of the real terms to which absolute space has to\nimpart relativity that the relation may ensue. It was not superfluous,\nthen, to warn our readers, as we did in our introduction to this article,\nagainst the incursions of imagination upon our intellectual field.\n\n\nA FRAGMENT.\n\n_David Ben-Aser to his friend, Amri Ephraim, health, love, and greeting_:\n\nMY BEST FRIEND: A month past I would have marvelled greatly that the\nfame of one seemingly so obscure as he who calls himself Jesus of\nNazareth--and what good can come out of Nazareth?--could have travelled\nto Rome or Damascus.\n\nBut the inquiry in thy friendly epistle from the banks of the Tiber,\nbrought me to-day by thy faithful Isaac, assures me that the city of the\nEmperor has caught wind of the rumors with which Jerusalem is filled, and\n\u2019tis but an hour since Yusef, a Damascene merchant, questioned me with\ninterest concerning this new teacher, whose wonderful doctrines and still\nmore wonderful deeds have set all Galilee in a flame.\n\nStrangely enough, it has been my fortune of late to have met him, not\nonce only, but several times, and always under striking circumstances.\nWhat seemed less likely when we parted than that I should give more than\nidle thought to what we both deemed a sensation of the hour; and yet it\nhas come to pass that this prophet, teacher--what you will, so that it\nbe kindly--has occupied my reflections for many moments in many days.\nThings have so fallen out from a small beginning that I am bidden to dine\nto-morrow at the house of Simon the Pharisee, in the company of Jesus.\n\nAt the present writing, I can gratify thy curiosity to a certain\nimportant and strange extent; but after having had opportunity to\nconverse with him, I hope to be able still further to enlighten thee,\nas well as satisfy myself as to the nature and depth of the impression\nthis strange teacher has made on thy hitherto reserved and unsusceptible\nfriend. I saw him first about a fortnight past.\n\nOn my way to the house of Marcus the centurion, with whom I had a money\ntransaction, my attention was attracted by a motley crowd of men, women,\nand children, all eager to press closer to what seemed to be some\nprominent figure in their midst.\n\n\u201cWhat is the cause of this commotion,\u201d I inquired, \u201cand whither are ye\nbound?\u201d\n\nOne of the number made answer thus: \u201cWe follow Jesus of Nazareth, who has\nbeen sent for by Marcus the centurion, to heal his servant, now lying at\nthe point of death.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhich is Jesus?\u201d I asked \u201cand is he also a physician?\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is he with the grave face and gentle eyes, and he is not a\nphysician, but a worker of miracles.\u201d\n\nAnxious to obtain a nearer view of him whose name is in every mouth, I\nendeavored to force my way through the crowd, when a man running at full\nspeed and making wild gestures with his hands called on the multitude\nto part and give him speech with Jesus, which they did, as soon as they\nfully understood his meaning and from whence he came. Then he called\nout, saying: \u201cLord, my master saith, Trouble not thyself, for I am not\nworthy that thou shouldst enter under my roof; say but the word, and my\nservant shall be healed.\u201d Jesus lifted his head, and I saw his face for\nthe first time; nay, but that part which extends from the top of the\nforehead beneath the eyes. But what eyes--how full of life, and holiness,\nand truth! And methought they fixed their piercing glance full upon me\nas he cried aloud: \u201cI say unto you, I have not found so great faith in\nIsrael.\u201d\n\nBut the crowd pressed about him and I saw him no more, for he retraced\nhis steps, followed by the multitude, while I pursued my way, filled\nwith curiosity as to the result. As I neared the house of Marcus I heard\nsounds of thanksgiving, and what was my surprise to hear, and in a moment\nafter see, the man who had been ill, perfectly restored, and fairly\ndancing and laughing with joy.\n\nMarcus is a man of probity and considerable influence, as you well know,\nand his faith in the power of Jesus is very great, which can hardly be\ncounted singular.\n\nHaving transacted my business, I went on my way, marvelling and\nreflecting much, albeit I am not given to running after strange prophets,\nnor to walk in new paths. But once lighted upon, it seemed this untrodden\nway was to open out fresh scenes to my view.\n\nThe next day I betook my steps early to Nain, where my brother-in-law,\nJonah, lies sick of the fever, which is now making fearful ravages in\nthat city. Returning in the cool of the evening, I suddenly encountered\na funeral procession. A woman deeply veiled followed the corpse,\npiercing the air with heartrending cries. At the same moment a group\nof travel-stained men entered the gate of the town. In their leader I\nrecognized Jesus of Nazareth, and at his approach an indefinable feeling\npossessed me. I cannot describe it save in saying that I would fain have\nfallen at his feet, as though in the presence of some superior being.\n\n\u201cWhom do you carry?\u201d inquired one of the travellers.\n\n\u201cThe only son of his mother, and she is a widow,\u201d was the sad response.\n\nJesus touched the bier, and the bearers paused. Turning with a look of\nineffable compassion to the heartbroken mother, he said, in tones gentle\nas those of a woman, \u201cWeep not.\u201d Then, in a louder voice, \u201cYoung man, I\nsay to thee, Arise.\u201d\n\nMy breath came thick and fast, the cold dews gathered on my forehead,\nfor, miracle of miracles: the dead arose, cast aside his grave-clothes,\nand fell sobbing upon his joyful mother\u2019s breast. This I beheld with my\neyes--I heard him speak, I saw his happy tears. But Jesus calmly gathered\nup his robe and pursued his journey, and once again I fancied--or did I\nfancy?--that he singled me out from the crowd, and fixed his eyes on mine\nwith an expression that was almost an appeal. My eager gaze followed him\ntill I could no longer catch the outline of his garments; after which, I\nslowly returned to Jerusalem.\n\nThere is much talk in the city concerning this last great miracle, and I\nhave been at pains to learn more of Jesus, of whom it is even said that\nhe calls himself the Messiah. It is argued against him that he consorts\nwith publicans and sinners, and that his most intimate friends and\ndisciples are illiterate fishermen.\n\nHowever, he preaches that he came not to call the just, but sinners, to\nrepentance; it is therefore but natural and consistent that he should\nseek out such, if his mission lies among them; and, with regard to his\nnear friends being illiterate, he is himself only a carpenter\u2019s son.\n\nAgain, his enemies say that he casts out devils and works prodigies\nthrough Beelzebub. But he preaches charity, good-will, hatred of\nhypocrisy and double-dealing, and surely these are not the weapons of the\nprince of darkness.\n\nMany of the Pharisees, far wiser than I, are disturbed and thoughtful\nbecause of these marvels that are daily occurring, so be not alarmed, nor\nfear that your David is losing his wits.\n\nThree days ago, on my way from the synagogue, I was joined by Simon, to\nwhom Jesus is well known, and in the conversation which ensued between\nus, our friend hospitably invited me to dine with him at his house this\nevening, saying that Jesus would be of the company. Of course I assented,\nand am all impatience for the hour to arrive. Simon\u2019s recognition of\nJesus speaks well for both, the former being a shrewd and careful man, a\nquick observer, and not slow to detect imposture; and if the qualities of\nthe latter were not sound and commendable, Simon would not thus honor him\nwith his hospitality.\n\nBut already the sun dips low in the heavens; till to-morrow, my\nEphraim--farewell.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nI left you last evening aglow with curiosity to see and hear more of the\nprophet of Israel, who is agitating all Jerusalem with the fame of his\nmiracles. I return to you awestruck, fascinated, filled with the spirit\nof reverence and admiration. What I have to say may lose much of its\nimpressiveness by reason of distance and want of actual participation in\nthe events which have taken place. But you cannot fail to be touched by\nthe strangeness and sublimity of the soul embodied in the form of Jesus.\nYet you have not seen him, you have not heard the sublime language that\nfalls from his lips whenever he opens them to speak, you have not felt\nhis god-like eye penetrating yours, nor seen his rare and wondrous smile.\nTherefore, should you scorn my enthusiasm, I shall not blame you, but\nabide the time when Jerusalem may claim you once more. For the rest, I do\nnot doubt that in this, as in all things else, we two shall be one. But I\nmust hasten to resume my narrative while the events of the past few hours\nare still fresh in my memory.\n\nThe sun had gone down behind a huge bank of crimson clouds, portending a\nstorm, as is not unusual at this wintry season, when we seated ourselves,\nto the number of twenty or thereabouts, at the well-spread table of\nSimon the Pharisee. Jesus was already present when I arrived, and sat,\nthe honored guest, at the right hand of the host, while several of his\nfriends or disciples surrounded him in the semicircle formed by the curve\nof the table. Was I mistaken, or did his eyes rest on me, as I entered,\nwith that half-sad, half-affectionate expression so like an invitation?\nRemembering the interest I had manifested in our conversation concerning\nhim, Simon kindly placed me as near Jesus as could well be, owing to the\nproximity of several older guests, but after the first moment of greeting\nJesus resumed his discourse, and I had ample opportunity for observing\nhim at my leisure. He wore a single garment of woollen stuff, which fell\nin graceful folds to his feet, being confined at the waist by a thick\ncord. The robe was of soft but coarse material, and, though considerably\nworn, appeared quite free from soil or travel-stain. He sat with hands\nloosely folded on his knees, and I noticed the peculiar whiteness and\ntransparency of the fingers, which were long and thin. Those hands do\nnot look as though they belonged to a carpenter\u2019s son. His forehead is\nhigh and broad, and the hair, tinged with auburn, falls in graceful waves\nabout half-way to the shoulders. The face is oval, each feature perfect,\nthe eyebrows delicately pencilled, the nose of a Grecian rather than\nour native Hebrew type, the lips not very full, but firm and red. Beard\nthe color of his hair, and slightly cleft, shows the well-formed chin,\nand barely sweeps his breast. But those eyes--those deep, unfathomable,\ncrystal wells--how can I speak of their many and varied expressions, of\nthat changeful hue between gray and brown so beautiful and yet so rare.\nThey seem to unite in themselves all of majesty and sweetness I have\never dreamed looked forth from eyes of angels--dignity and lowliness,\nseverity and tenderness, sadness and something higher than joy. But their\nprevailing expression is one of sorrow, as though they had looked out\ninto the world, and, taking in its untold miseries and sins at one deep\nglance, must hold the mournful picture there for evermore. Indeed, it is\nsaid, I know not how truly, that Jesus has never been known to laugh.\nHis voice is low and soft, but very clear. I fancy it would be most\nmelodious in our Hebrew chants. And yet it can grow strong and loud in\nreproach, as you shall presently hear.\n\nThe feast had begun, and the servants were busy attending to the wants\nof the guests, when a slight noise was heard in the antechamber, as\nthough the porter were remonstrating with some one who desired to enter.\nSuddenly a woman appeared on the threshold, clothed in a fleecy white\ntunic, girdled with blue, and bearing an alabaster box in her hand. A\nmurmur went round the assembly. Surely our eyes did not deceive us--it\nwas the notorious courtesan, Mary Magdalen, but divested of the costly\nrobes and ornaments which were formerly her pride, and with her rich\ngolden hair loosely coiled at the back of her head and simply fastened\nwith a silver comb.\n\nI bethought me of a rumor I had heard, that Jesus had once delivered her\nfrom the hands of those who were about to stone her, and also that since\nthat time she had renounced her abandoned manner of life. Pale, with\neyes downcast, she stood one hesitating instant in the doorway; then,\nfalling on her knees before Jesus, she wept aloud, literally bathing his\nfeet with her tears. He uttered no word of reproach, but suffered her\nto unbind that beautiful hair whose golden threads had lured so many to\ndestruction. Now, as though seeking to make atonement, she wiped with it\nhis tired feet. Kissing them humbly, and still weeping, she drew from\nthe alabaster box most precious ointment and anointed them profusely.\nAll were silent, but many shook their heads with doubt and suspicion.\nSimon the Pharisee folded his arms, but spake not, till Jesus, as though\ndivining the thoughts of his heart, said slowly and impressively:\n\n\u201cSimon, I have somewhat to say unto thee.\u201d\n\nAnd he answered him: \u201cMaster, say on.\u201d\n\nThen he said: \u201cThere was a certain creditor who had two debtors: the one\nowed five hundred pence, and the other fifty. And when they had nothing\nto pay, he frankly forgave them both. Tell me, therefore, which of them\nwill love him most?\u201d\n\nSimon answered and said: \u201cI suppose he to whom he forgave most.\u201d\n\nAnd he said unto him: \u201cThou hast rightly judged.\u201d And he turned to the\nwoman, and said unto Simon: \u201cSeest thou this woman? I entered into thine\nhouse, thou gavest me no water for my feet; but she hath washed my feet\nwith tears, and wiped them with the hairs of her head. Thou gavest me no\nkiss; but this woman, from the time I came in, hath not ceased to kiss\nmy feet. My head with oil thou didst not anoint, but this woman hath\nanointed my feet with ointment. Wherefore, I say unto thee, her sins,\nwhich are many, are forgiven, for she hath loved much; but to whom little\nis forgiven, the same loveth little.\u201d And he said unto her: \u201cThy sins are\nforgiven.\u201d\n\nNo one made answer as the woman silently departed, but the incident\nhad strangely disturbed the spirit of the feast. I marvel how the most\ncritical could have found fault or misjudged what was undoubtedly a\nspontaneous expression of gratitude and contrition in the repentant\nsinner. Jesus had saved Mary from death, and humbled her accusers with\nthese remarkable words: \u201cLet he who is without sin among you throw the\nfirst stone.\u201d They slunk away mortified and abashed.\n\nSince that time she has seen the error of her ways, and surely, if\nthe God of our fathers pardons sinners, it is but in keeping with his\nestablished character for justice and mercy that so perfect a man as\nJesus should not rebuke them. I am more and more powerfully drawn towards\nthis wonderful teacher. As the guests dispersed last evening, I contrived\nto obtain speech with him, and he replied to several questions of mine\nwith great mildness and suavity. And although, by reason of my known\nwealth and position among the Pharisees, one might suppose he would make\nsome note of the voluntary admiration and respect I did not hesitate to\nmanifest, he soon turned with grave dignity to others who surrounded\nhim, his own friends no doubt, and seemed to forget my presence. They\nsay he goes to-morrow into various towns and villages, for the purpose\nof preaching and instructing. He will be accompanied by the twelve who\nalways follow him. My interest has been so strongly excited that I am\ntempted to defer still longer my journey to Rome, which I had intended to\nbegin almost immediately. However, I shall not postpone it sufficiently\nlong to deprive myself of the pleasure of thy company in the capital for\nsome time previous to thy return to Jerusalem.\n\nIn any event, I shall write thee soon. Blessings upon thee, dearest\nfriend! I await an answer to this lengthy epistle.\n\n\nII.\n\nThe fury of the first persecution had nearly exhausted itself, and even\nNero, that insatiable butcher whose thirst for blood had enkindled the\nfierce flame, seemed to have well-nigh spent the measure of his inhuman\ncruelty.\n\nHiding like criminals in gloomy abodes and obscure retreats, those\nChristians who had escaped martyrdom seldom ventured forth save when the\ndusk of evening rendered them less liable to scrutiny or interrogation.\n\nBut among the exceptions to this precautionary rule was one, that of\na very old, white-haired man, who might be seen at all times in the\nmost public places, and who was well-known to be a fearless and devoted\nChristian. Indeed, he seemed rather to court danger than avoid it, and\nit was a marvel to the more timid among his brethren how he had thus far\nescaped the lion\u2019s jaws or the caldron of boiling oil.\n\nOne raw evening in early March, three drunken soldiers were tumbling\nalong a narrow Roman street, lined with small, obscure-looking houses,\nwhen a bent figure suddenly issued from one of the low doorways and\nwalked hurriedly in the direction of the Jews\u2019 quarter, not far distant.\n\n\u201cHo there!\u201d called one of the three, eager for adventure of any kind, \u201cho\nthere! Who art thou, and whither goest thou?\u201d\n\nThe figure paused, and said in reply, \u201cI am an old man, and I go to\nrelieve a fellow-man in distress.\u201d\n\n\u201cNot so fast, not so fast, friend,\u201d retorted the soldier. \u201cIn these\ntimes, we guardians of the emperor\u2019s peace must be circumspect and\nvigilant.\u201d\n\n\u201cHo, ho! It is Andrew, that dog of a Christian who boasteth, I am told,\nthat he is not afraid of our august emperor himself,\u201d said another of the\nthree. \u201cSpeak, old man; art thou not a Christian, and brave enough to\nface thy master, who can, if he so pleases, make a torch of thee to light\nbelated way-farers home?\u201d\n\n\u201cAy, thou sayest truly, I am a Christian,\u201d replied the old man, folding\nhis arms and standing erect, as he continued: \u201cMy name is Andrew; I am\nwell known in the city, and acknowledge no master in the odious tyrant\nwho calls himself Emperor of Rome.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! what is this?\u201d said the soldier who had not yet spoken, and who\nappeared the most sober of the three. \u201cSo--so. A traitor and a Christian.\nThere is a double reward set upon thy head, old fellow. Comrades,\nwe would be doing an injustice to the emperor and the state in not\napprehending this venomous traitor. Let us away with him to prison, and\nbefore this time to-morrow he may know what it is to feel the emperor\u2019s\navenging arm.\u201d The old man\u2019s eye brightened, and he would have spoken,\nbut was prevented by him who had first accosted him.\n\n\u201cNay, nay, comrades,\u201d he said, \u201clet the poor creature go. He has been\nseen in all public places since the edict, and is well known for a\nChristian. Yet his age and infirmities have thus far saved him from\narrest. Let us to our quarters, and permit him to go free.\u201d\n\n\u201cNot so,\u201d replied his companion gruffly, while the other seized the old\nman by the cloak. \u201cIt won\u2019t do to make fish of one and flesh of another.\nBesides, there\u2019s the booty, and that\u2019s something not to be despised.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, so be it,\u201d was the reply; \u201cone against two is but poor odds. Let\nus go.\u201d\n\nThe prisoner made no resistance, walking on silently between his captors,\nbut a strange light shone in his eyes; and when the great iron door of\nthe cell into which he was rudely hurried closed behind him, he fell on\nhis knees exclaiming:\n\n\u201cAt last, my God, at last! O Lord! I thank thee--let not this great joy\npass from me.\u201d\n\nMorning dawned, and Nero sat dispensing death and torture to the doomed\nChristians, inventing new cruelties with each death sentence. An old man,\nheavily manacled, was led in by three guards. His venerable appearance\nattracted the emperor\u2019s notice, and he cried out:\n\n\u201cHo, guards! bring forward the patriarch. What offence hath the old Jew\ncommitted? Has he been pursuing some unlucky creditor, or hath his last\nenterprise savored too strongly of usury? What is charged against thee,\nJew?\u201d\n\n\u201cHe is no Jew, but a bragging Christian, most noble emperor,\u201d exclaimed\nthe foremost guard. \u201cHe boasted but last night that he would not\nacknowledge thee for master, and we have brought him to thy presence that\nhis boast may wither beneath the light of thy august countenance.\u201d\n\n\u201cArt thou not a Jew?\u201d cried Nero, as the prisoner lifted his bowed head,\nand stood erect.\n\n\u201cI am a Jew by birth, but a Christian by religion,\u201d he replied in a low\nbut audible voice.\n\n\u201cWhat is thy name?\u201d\n\n\u201cI was baptized Andrew, and so I am called.\u201d\n\nHere a murmur ran through the crowd, and a centurion stepped forward,\nsaying:\n\n\u201cA most bitter enemy of the gods, most noble emperor. He is the same who\nmay be seen at all the public executions of Christians, exhorting and\npraying with them.\u201d\n\n\u201cI wonder he has never been apprehended until now--it speaks well for\nthe devotion of my adherents,\u201d replied the emperor with a sneer. The\ncenturion drew back somewhat abashed.\n\n\u201cI have often sought death, but my gray hairs have spared me until now,\u201d\nsaid the old man.\n\n\u201cHold thy treacherous tongue, sirrah,\u201d cried one of the guards. \u201cI\u2019ll\nwarrant thee they will not spare thee now.\u201d\n\n\u201cSilence!\u201d cried the emperor. \u201cOld man, art thou the same of whom it is\nsaid thou wert a friend of the Galilean ere he went to the gibbet?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat I was it matters not. What I desire to be is the faithful servant\nof my Lord Jesus Christ.\u201d\n\n\u201cVerily, thou art impertinent, and age hath not taught thee humility.\nMayhap, it would please thee to have thy old body cut in slices and\nthrown to the wild beasts.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt would be the fulfilment of my most ardent prayers--any death by which\nI might suffer martyrdom for Jesus Christ. I have longed for it these\nfifty years.\u201d As he spoke his face seemed transfigured, while that of\nNero assumed a new and more malicious expression.\n\n\u201cHow old art thou?\u201d he asked.\n\n\u201cI am ninety-two.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhere is thy birthplace?\u201d\n\n\u201cJerusalem.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd thou wouldst die for Jesus Christ?\u201d\n\n\u201cThou knowest it, my judge.\u201d\n\n\u201cSuch death would be the greatest boon thy heart desires?\u201d\n\n\u201cMy God knoweth it.\u201d\n\nA mocking smile played around the emperor\u2019s lips as he said:\n\n\u201cThen hear thy sentence. Thou shalt be taken from hence to the Appian\ngate--and there bidden go thy way in peace. Thou art not young enough\nto be toothsome to the lions, and the sap is so dried in thy veins thou\nwouldst make but a sorry torch by night. There is so little flesh upon\nthy bones that thou wouldst not sink in Tiber, and we cannot afford to\nwaste stones in weighting such as thou. Thy withered carcass would not\nwhet the executioner\u2019s knife; there is naught for it but to let thee\ngo. Spend the remainder of thy days as thou hast wasted those that are\ngone, in longings for martyrdom. Guards! seize your prisoner, and execute\nsentence upon him.\u201d\n\nThe light that had illumined the eyes of the old man slowly faded as the\nemperor spoke, and great tears rolled down his furrowed cheeks. Clasping\nhis withered hands high above his head, he exclaimed:\n\n\u201cIt is not to be--it is not to be! My God, I accept the retribution.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat sayest thou?\u201d cried Nero. \u201cHast thou committed some terrible crime\nthat thou talkest of retribution?\u201d\n\n\u201cAy, a great crime; but I have suffered much, and striven to make\natonement. But my Saviour is not yet satisfied.\u201d\n\n\u201cAccuse thyself. We may be less lenient here than awhile ago.\u201d\n\nThe old man\u2019s eyes kindled once more and again he stood erect: \u201cYes, I\nwill confess,\u201d he cried in a loud voice. \u201cI will let all the world know\nthat he whom his companions have called just is the meanest sinner of\nthem all; I will strive by the whiteness of my gray hairs and the years\nof sorrow that have passed since that mad day to awaken in thy tyrant\nheart some pity, some relenting from thy cruel sentence.\n\n\u201cBut alas! what do I say? The hand of God is in it--my Saviour refuses me\nthe boon I crave, and thou art but his instrument.\u201d He sighed heavily,\nwiped the tears from his eyes, and continued in a less agitated voice:\n\n\u201cI am a native of Jerusalem--a descendant of the tribe of Aser; my father\nwas a ruler of much wealth and influence--both of which I inherited. I\nhad luxurious tastes, and gratified them to a certain extent, filling my\nhouse with rare and costly furniture and ornaments. I travelled much, and\nindulged my inclinations to the fullest extent without transgressing the\nmoral law. I esteemed virtue and practised it, more from a sense of pride\nthan a feeling of true religion. I was unmarried and had few intimate\nfriends. One, however, Amri Ephraim, was bound to me by the closest ties\nof intimacy and association. He was also wealthy. Business called him to\nRome about the time our Lord Jesus began to preach the gospel in Galilee.\nWe were both somewhat interested in the new prophet, as he was then\ncalled; but from my first meeting with him I was filled with admiration\nfor his teachings, and drawn towards him by an attraction I could not\nthen understand. Alas! I have known its meaning for many sorrowful,\nrepentant years.\n\n\u201cHis influence grew upon me. I followed him from place to place; he\ntook kindly notice of me. His gentle looks seemed to beckon me on; his\nwondrous miracles became convincing proofs of his divine mission; his\nmerciful and consoling teachings entered deep into my soul, and left\nit glowing with awe and veneration. I felt that he was the Messiah\npromised by David; I knew it in my coward heart. And yet this world--this\nglittering, hollow sham--it was that which held me back and lured me to\nmy own perdition. Many times I saw Jesus look upon me with a gaze that\ntold of affection mingled with doubt and sorrow. For days I would absent\nmyself from his side, only to return athirst and filled with new desires.\n\n\u201cOne day, as he sat in the shade of a palm-tree with a few of his\ndisciples, I threw myself at his feet and listened to the wisdom that\nfell from his lips.\n\n\u201c\u2018Master,\u2019 I said at length, \u2018what shall a man do to inherit eternal\nlife?\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018Keep the commandments,\u2019 he answered, fixing his eyes upon me as though\nhe would read my soul.\n\n\u201c\u2018I have kept them from my youth,\u2019 I replied.\n\n\u201c\u2018Then lackest thou yet one thing,\u2019 he said. \u2018Sell all thou hast, give\nthy treasure to the poor, and come, follow me.\u2019\n\n\u201cThe words were spoken--they had appealed to my heart for many days;\nJesus loved me, he had singled me from the multitude of whom but little\nis required--he would have chosen me for a familiar disciple. I saw it in\nhis eye; I heard it in his voice. He had called me to follow him! And I?\u2026\n\n\u201cBefore me there swept a vision of lost delights and despised honors. I\nsaw myself hungry and cold, and naked and scorned; I heard the censure of\nthe world, the altered tones of friends, the jibes and sneers of enemies.\nIf I had dared once more to lift my eyes--if I had met that benignant\nglance, so full of affection and assurance--all would have been well, and\nthe craven heart had never bled these sixty years for that one moment\u2019s\nloss. But, alas! I cast down my eyes and bowed my head; I arose and went\naway sorrowful. That night I left Jerusalem and fled to Rome. I say\nfled, for I was like a criminal fleeing not from a tyrant but a kind\nand merciful father. My friend, to whom I had written faithfully of my\ninterest in Jesus, passed and missed me on the way to Jerusalem.\u2026\u201d\n\nHere the old man\u2019s voice faltered and his frame shook with sobs. He\nseemed unconscious of all but his own sorrow as he continued:\n\n\u201cHe learned to know Jesus--became a faithful disciple; he witnessed his\ncapture and cruel trial; he followed him to Calvary; he saw the prodigies\nthat occurred at his death; he saw him ascend into heaven. He enjoyed\nthe sweet privilege of conversing with Mary; he received the dead body\nof Stephen the blessed martyr, and helped to give it decent burial, and\nhis body lies to-day at the bottom of old Tiber--martyred for the faith\nof Christ; while I--coward that I was--awoke to the sense of my sin when\nit was too late to return and throw myself at his sacred feet, too late\nto touch the hem of his garment, too late to follow his bloody footsteps\nup the frightful Mount of Calvary. One expiation I thought to make--one\natonement for my sin; for the poor sacrifice of my wealth was nothing to\nme. I sought martyrdom. In the public places, in the forum, by the side\nof dying Christians, at the graves of murdered saints. But I seemed to\nbear a charmed life. They passed me by, they did not molest me. He is\nharmless, said one; he is old, said another. And now, when I thought the\ngoal within my reach, when I hoped that my expiation had been accepted,\nit is again denied me. Be it so, my God, my outraged and despised\nSaviour, be it so! I rejected thee--thou rejectest me. Thou didst die for\nme--thou wilt not suffer me to die for thee. Thy will be done!\u201d\n\nThe bowed head fell heavily on the clasped hands, and the old man sank\nslowly on his knees. At that moment a stray sunbeam, the first of a murky\nmorning, touched his white hair as with a crown of brightness, then faded\nand the clouded heavens grew dark. The guards stooped to lift him. He was\ndead.\n\n\u201cWhat a dramatic talent those Christians have!\u201d said the emperor to his\nfriend Apulius, who stood beside his throne. \u201cPity they do not apply it\nto better purpose. Guards! let that old man go free--we pity his gray\nhairs--ha! ha!\u201d\n\n\u201cHe is dead, most noble emperor,\u201d replied one of the soldiers, not\nwithout something of softness in his voice.\n\n\u201cAh! so? Remove the corpse then; and thou, good Marcellus, be sure thou\nhast those fifty Syrian Christian torches well pitched and oiled ere\nnight--for it will be dark, and we must needs be lighted to Phryma\u2019s\nbanquet. Come Apulius--make way, lictors.\u201d\n\nSo Nero passed beneath the arched doorway from his tyrant throne--and at\nthe same moment some timid Christians near its foot bore away the body of\na saint for burial.\n\n\nART AND SCIENCE.\n\n    A wild swan and an eagle side by side\n    I marked, careering o\u2019er the ocean-plain,\n    Emulous a heaven more heavenly each to gain,\n    Circling in orbits wider and more wide:\n    Highest, methought, through tempest scarce descried,\n    One time the bird of battle soared;--in vain;\n    So soon, exhausted \u2019mid their joy and pride,\n    Dropped to one sea the vanquished rivals twain.\n    Then, o\u2019er the mighty waves around them swelling,\n    That snowy nursling of low lakes her song\n    Lifted to God, floating serene along;\n    While she that in the hills had made her dwelling\n    Struggled in vain her wings to beat and quiver,\n    And the deep closed o\u2019er that bright crest for ever.\n\n    AUBREY DE VERE.\n\n\nTHE ROMAN RITUAL AND ITS CHANT\n\n_COMPARED WITH THE WORKS OF MODERN MUSIC._\n\nII.--CONCLUDED.\n\n\nVALUE AS A MEDIUM OR VEHICLE OF DIVINE TRUTH AMONG THE PEOPLE.\n\nPopular national songs with their melodies are not, either in point of\npoetry or music, very elaborate or classical works of art. Consummate art\nis incapable of passing among a people, and must ever remain confined\nto the initiated and the connoisseur; yet national songs are not only\ncharacteristic of all people, but fulfil a very important function. They\nnot only foster and preserve the national spirit, of which they are the\nexpression, but also keep up, by tradition among the people, a knowledge\nof the history of their race, and of the exploits and noble deeds of its\ngreat men. In a word, the songs of a people have an influence over the\ngrowth of their moral character which it is not easy to overestimate, and\nwhich was well known to that statesman who was heard to say that they who\nhave the making of a people\u2019s songs will soon have the making of their\nlaws; a sentiment fully confirmed by the proverb, \u201cQui mutat cantus,\nmutat mores.\u201d\n\nThe above remarks, much too brief to put the importance of the ideas\ncontained in them in their proper light, seem to issue in the conclusion\nthat the song of the Christian kingdom will be necessarily something very\ndifferent from an elaborate work of musical genius.\n\nWhen our divine Redeemer lifted up his eyes, and beheld the multitudes\ngoing astray as sheep without a shepherd, he was moved with compassion.\nSurely in his judgment sacred song will be deemed to fulfil its mission\nwhen it passes current among the people, is domesticated in the laboring\nman\u2019s cottage among his children, and there teaches the family the\nknowledge of their Saviour\u2019s life and sufferings, of their redemption by\nthese from sin, and the death of the world to come. Sacred song will,\nin his compassionate eyes, fulfil its mission of mercy when it takes up\nthe words of eternal Wisdom, and puts them in the mouth of the people\nas a charm against the maxims of a world declared by the Word of God to\nbe \u201c_lying in wickedness_,\u201d and as a shield against the assaults of a\ntempter, said in the same Word \u201c_to be ever going about seeking whom he\nmay devour_.\u201d It will fulfil its mission when it enters into the heart\nand soul of the people, accompanies the departed with a requiem as man\ngoeth to his long home and the mourners go about the streets, when it\nadministers comfort to the survivors, while it bids them not to sorrow\nas they that have no hope, and, in a word, weeps with them that weep,\nand rejoices with them that do rejoice. Nor let it be said that this is\na romantic notion--the making out of the earth an ideal paradise. Surely\nthe actual and adequate fulfilment of such a mission of sacred song\nbelongs to the idea of the mission of the Son of God, sent by the Father\nto re-establish order, piety, and sanctity on the earth. But what if this\nidea was not only familiar to the fathers, but that they actually saw the\nprogress of its accomplishment?\n\n\u201cThere is no need here,\u201d says S. Chrysostom, exhorting his people to take\npart in the church chant, \u201cof the artist\u2019s skill, which requires length\nof time to bring to perfection. Let there be but a good will and a ready\nmind, and the result will soon be sufficient skill. There is no absolute\nneed even of time or place, for in every place or time one may sing with\nthe mind. Though you be walking in the Forum, or are on a journey, or\nare seated with your friends, the mind may be on the alert, and find for\nitself an utterance. It was thus that Moses cried, and God heard. If you\nare an artisan, you may sing Psalms as you sit laboring in your workshop;\nyou may do the same if you are a soldier, or a judge seated on his bench\u201d\n(Hom. on Ps. iv.)\n\nA formal acknowledgment on the part of the church of this principle of\nteaching by means of song, which at the same time proves its antiquity,\nthough it can be hardly necessary to cite it, may be found in one of\nthe Collects for Holy Saturday: \u201cDeus, celsitudo humilium, et fortitudo\nrectorum, qui per sanctum Moysen puerum tuum ita erudire populum tuum\nsacri carminis tui decantatione voluisti, ut illa legis iteratio fiat\netiam, nostra directio,\u201d etc., etc.--\u201cO God! the loftiness of the humble\nand the strength of them that are upright, who wast pleased, through thy\nholy servant Moses, to instruct thy people by the singing of a sacred\nsong,\u201d etc., etc.\n\nIf, then, this be a true and just view of the mission of the sacred song\namong the poor and the unlearned multitude, as contemplated in the divine\nidea; if it be true, as I suppose no one will deny, that the Ritual\nChant is not only fitted to accomplish it, but has realized it in times\npast, and does still realize it in countries that might be named; and\nif the works of modern art are, from their very scientific character\nas music, incapable of being the medium in which divine truth can pass\namong the people; and, indeed, if it be their nature to give so much\nmore of prominence to the beauty of mere sound than to the expression of\nintelligible meaning or sentiment, which every one knows is the case, we\nseem to gain this obvious result, on drawing the comparison, that the\nRitual chant is a _real medium_ or vehicle for the circulation of divine\ntruth among the people, fitted with a divine wisdom to its end; while\nthe great works of art that the musician so much admires are not, to any\npractical extent whatever, such a medium, and indeed, if the truth must\nbe said, were probably _never_ contemplated as such, either by those who\ncomposed or those who now admire them.\n\n\nCOMPARATIVE \u201cMEDICINAL VIRTUE.\u201d\n\n\u201cThey that are whole need not a physician,\u201d said our Redeemer (Mark\nii. 17), \u201cbut they that are sick. I came not to call the just, but\nsinners to repentance.\u201d It was part of the mission of the Son of God\nupon earth, that he should be the physician of the souls of men (Isai\u00e6\nlxi.): \u201cSpiritus Domini super me, eo quod unxerit Dominus me, _ut mederer\ncontritis_ corde.\u201d It will follow, then, that the music which the divine\nPhysician of souls will desire to see employed in his church will be\nstrongly marked with the medicinal character.\n\nAnd this conclusion becomes the more natural, from observing the\nnumberless indications which the literature of different countries\naffords that music has always been popularly regarded as a medicine for\nthe spirit; as, for instance, the Greek pastoral poet, Bion:\n\n    \u039c\u03bf\u03bb\u03c0\u1f70\u03bd \u03c4\u03b1\u1f76 \u039c\u03bf\u1fd6\u03c3\u03b1\u03b9, \u03bc\u03bf\u1f76 \u1f00\u03b5\u1f76 \u03c0\u03bf\u03b8\u03ad\u03bf\u03bd\u03c4\u03b9 \u03b4\u03b9\u03b4\u03bf\u1fd6\u03b5\u03bd\n    \u03a4\u1f70\u03bd \u03b3\u03bb\u03c5\u03ba\u03b5\u03c1\u1f70\u03bd \u03bc\u03bf\u03bb\u03c0\u1f70\u03bd \u03c4\u1fb6\u03c2 \u03c6\u03ac\u03c1\u03bc\u03b1\u03ba\u03bf\u03bd \u1f05\u03b4\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd \u03bf\u1f50\u03b4\u03ad\u03bd.\n\n    BIONIS, _Bucolica_, i.\n\n\u201cSong than which no medicine so sweet.\u201d Among the Romans, the courtly\nOvid:\n\n    \u201cHoc est cur cantet vinctus quoque compede fossor\n      Indocili numero, cum grave mollit opus.\n    Cantat et innitens limos\u00e6 pronus aren\u00e6,\n      Adverso tardam qui vehit amne ratem;\n    Qui refert pariter lentos ad pectora remos,\n      In numerum puls\u00e2 brachia versat aqu\u00e2.\n    \u2026\n    Cantantis pariter, pariter data pensa trahentis\n      Fallitur ancill\u00e6, decipiturque labor.\u201d\n\n    OVID, _de Tristibus_, _Eleg._ lib. i.\n\nAnd, in our own literature, the great poet of human nature, Shakspeare:\n\n    \u201cWhen griping grief the heart doth wound,\n      And doleful dumps the mind oppress,\n    Then music with her silver sound\n      With speedy help doth lend redress.\u201d\n\n    SHAKSPEARE\u2019s _Romeo and Juliet_.\n\nWith this view of music, as permitted by a merciful Providence to retain\na large share of healing virtue, even apart from religion, and in the\nmidst of the disorders of heathenism, expectation will be naturally much\nraised on coming to inquire what have been the effects of the Christian\nmusic which the divine Physician of souls has given to his Church. Nor\nwill there be any disappointment. S. Basil the Great, the well-known\ndoctor and bishop of the East, speaks of the Plain Chant of his own day\nin the following terms:\n\n\u201cPsalmody is the calm of the soul, the umpire of peace, that sets at rest\nthe storm and upheaving of the thoughts. Psalmody quiets the turbulence\nof the mind, tempers its excess, is the bond of friendship, the union of\nthe separated, the reconciler of those at variance; for who can count him\nany longer an enemy with whom he has but once lifted up his voice to God?\nPsalmody putteth evil spirits to flight, calleth for the help of angels,\nis a defence from terrors by night, a rest from troubles by day, is the\nsafety of children, the glory of young men, the comfort of the old, the\nfairest ornament of women.\u2026 Psalmody calls forth a tear from a heart of\nstone, is the work of angels, the government of Heaven, the incense of\nthe Spirit.\u201d\n\nS. Ambrose, Archbishop of Milan in the West, in the preface to his\nCommentary on the Book of Psalms, speaks as follows:\n\n\u201cIn the Book of Psalms there is something profitable for all; it is a\nsort of universal medicine and preservative of health. Whoever will\nread therein may be sure to find the proper remedy for the diseased\npassion he suffers from. Psalmody is the blessing of the people, a\nthanksgiving of the multitude, the delight of numbers, and a language\nfor all. It is the voice of the Church, the sweetly-loud profession of\nfaith, the full-voiced worship of men in power, the delight of the free,\nthe shout of the joyous, the exultation of the merry. It is the soother\nof anger, the chaser away of sorrow, the comforter of grief. It is a\ndefence by night, an ornament by day, a shield in danger, a strong tower\nof sanctity, an image of tranquillity, a pledge of peace and concord,\nforming its unity of song, as the lyre, from diversity of sound. The\nmorning echoes to the sound of psalmody, and the evening re-echoes.\nThe apostle commanded women to be silent in the church; yet the song\nof psalmody becomes them (S. Ambrose is speaking of congregational\npsalmody). Boys and young men may sing psalms without danger, and even\nyoung women also, without detriment to their matronly reserve. They\nare the food of childhood; and infancy itself, that will learn nothing\nbesides, delights in them. Psalmody befits the rank of the king, may be\nsung by magistrates, and chorused by the people, each one vying with his\nneighbor in causing that to be heard which is good for all\u201d (_Pr\u00e6fatio in\nComment in Lib. Psalmorum_).\n\nS. Augustine speaks thus of the Church Chant: \u201cHow my heart burned within\nme against the Manicheans, and how I pitied them, that they neither\nknew its mystery nor healing virtue; and that they should insanely rage\nagainst that very antidote by which they might have recovered their\nsaneness (insani essent adversus antidotum quo sani esse potuissent)!\u201d\n(_Confess._ lib. ix.) To which should certainly be added the fact that,\nin some degree, the church may be said to be indebted to this very\nmedicinal power of her psalmody, and to the tears it drew forth from the\nyoung catechumen Augustine, for one of the profoundest among her saints\nand doctors.\n\nAnd to come to times nearer our own, the well-known Massillon, in one\nof his charges to his clergy, delivered at the Conference at which he\npresided, earnestly recommends them to make the study of the Plain Chant\na part of their recreation; for, adds he, \u201cle peuple souvent se calme au\nchant du sacerdoce dans le temple.\u201d (_Conferences_, vol. iii.) And our\nown times have witnessed a remarkable instance of the same medicinal\npower of the church chant when in the Champs \u00c9lys\u00e9es of Paris, during the\nsummer of 1848, the citizens met in the open air, to celebrate a Requiem\nMass for the repose of those who had fallen in the great civil commotion\nof that year, which had been suppressed with such loss of life. Here were\nto be seen the murderer and the relations of the murdered, forgetting\nthat strongest and deadliest feud of the human heart--the thirst for\nvengeance for the shedding of kindred blood--joining their own to the\nthousands of voices that poured forth the well-known church chant of the\n_Dies ir\u00e6_. Ten thousand voices supplicating Almighty God to pardon the\npast, to grant rest to the souls of the slain, to bear in mind that he\nhad come on earth to save them, and to beg that he would remember them in\nmercy at the day of his judgment, in the language and song of the church!\nOf a truth, then, may the church chant say, _Unxit me Spiritus Domini, ut\nmederer contritis corde_.\n\nIt is also curious to observe in what a marked manner, even in the recent\nProtestant literature of our own country, this medicinal character of the\nchurch chant is still recognized. Mr. Wordsworth has the following lines\nin his _Ecclesiastical Sonnets_ (xxx.):\n\n\nCANUTE.\n\n    \u201cA pleasant music floats along the Mere,\n    From monks in Ely chanting service high,\n    While--as Canute the King is rowing by--\n    \u2018My oarsmen,\u2019 quoth the mighty king, \u2018draw near,\n    That we the sweet song of the monks may hear.\u2019\n    He listens (all past conquests and all schemes\n    Of future vanishing like empty dreams)\n    Heart-touch\u2019d, and haply not without a tear.\n    The royal minstrel, ere the choir is still,\n    While his free barge skims the smooth flood along,\n    Gives to that rapture an accordant Rhyme.[151]\n    O suffering earth! be thankful; sternest clime\n    And rudest age are subject to the thrill\n    Of heav\u2019n-descended piety and song.\u201d\n\nHenry Kirke White, in the fragment of a ballad entitled the \u201cFair Maid of\nClifton,\u201d bears even the still more remarkable testimony to a power over\nevil spirits. He is describing the death-bed of a female who, fearing\nthat the demons would carry her away, had sent for her own relations to\npray by her side, and for the \u201cclerk and all the singers besides.\u201d\n\n    \u201cAnd she begged they would sing the penitent hymn,\n      And pray with all their might;\n    For sadly I fear the fiend will be here,\n      And fetch me away this night.\n    \u2026\n    \u201cAnd now their song it died on their tongue,\n      For sleep it was seizing their sense,\n    And Margaret screamed and bid them not sleep,\n      Or the fiends would bear her hence.\u201d[152]\n\n    _Southey\u2019s edition_, p. 281.\n\nAnd now, in drawing the comparison, it is fair to ask, granting the\nexception where it may be justly conceded, in favor of particular\ncompositions: What on the whole is the _medicinal virtue_ of our modern\nfigured music? how does it take effect? who are the persons whose sorrow\nit relieves? who are they who find themselves really made better by it,\nand inclined, through its influence, to feel in greater charity with the\nremainder of the congregation? To judge from the kind of remarks that are\nusually made by persons coming away from a church where one of these\nfigured music Masses has been executed, one would certainly not say that\nthey could be many. For what are these remarks but those of connoisseurs,\nwho criticise the merits of a voice which has reached a very high or\nlow note, or of a particular solo, trio, or quartet, to which those who\nare uninitiated in the mysteries of minim and crotchet pay positively\nno attention at all? Now, let us for a moment suppose a person to say,\nwith S. Ambrose, in praise of Mozart\u2019s famous No. XII., that it was a\n\u201cdefence by night, an ornament by day, a shield in danger, a strong tower\nof sanctity, an image of tranquillity, a pledge of peace\u201d; or with S.\nBasil, that \u201cit had the virtue of putting devils to flight\u201d; would any\nexperience more unfeigned surprise than those very persons who think this\nMass the absolute ideal of church music? Or again: if, unknown to himself\nand to others, there were at this moment a future doctor of the church\namong our London club politicians, how much would it naturally occur to\nus to think that the performance of this same No. XII. would be likely to\ncontribute towards effecting his conversion?\n\n\nRESPECTIVE CAPACITY FOR DURABLE POPULARITY.\n\nGod, who gave the Ecclesiastical Chant as a gift of mercy to the people,\nmust needs contemplate it as _popular_. For except it were really\npopular, it would fail to attain its end. This, then, will be the place\nto examine what indications are to be found that the Ritual Chant is\nreally, in this particular, the fulfilment of the Divine idea.\n\nWhen an invention or an art is such that people come to borrow from\nit popular expressions, or when it gives birth to new phrases or\nmetaphors, or a word or words come to be engrafted from it upon one or\nmany languages, this becomes an argument for its popularity, such as no\none will be inclined to dispute. Such phrases as those of \u201cGo ahead,\u201d\n\u201cGet the steam up,\u201d are quite sufficient to prove the fact of everybody\nbeing well acquainted with the steam-engine, from which they are derived.\nNow, if a similar fact can be found relative to the Gregorian chant, its\npopularity is in a manner placed beyond the reach of doubt.\n\nWhen the poet Gray uses a well-known word in the lines,\n\n    \u201cThe next, with _dirges_ due, in sad array.\n    Slow through the church-yard path we saw him borne,\u201d\n\nhe bears testimony to such a fact. The initial word of the first Antiphon\nof the Matins for the dead, \u201c_Dirige_ gressus meos, Domine,\u201d has given\nthis well-known word to our language. It can be hardly necessary to\nrefer to a similar reception of the word \u201cRequiem\u201d into many different\nlanguages, which is the initial word of the Introit in the Mass for the\ndead.\n\nThe following anecdote, related by Padre Martini, page 437 of the third\nvolume of his _History of Music_, may be here to the point. It is of\nAntonio Bernacchi, the most celebrated singer of his day (the beginning\nof the XVIIIth century), and narrated to him by Bernacchi himself:\nthat, as he happened to be on a journey in Tuscany, near a monastery\nof Trappist monks, he felt a desire to visit it, in order to become\nacquainted with the way of life of these religious. He entered their\nchurch exactly at the time they were singing Tierce. Bernacchi was\novercome by the effect of a multitude of voices in such perfect union\nthat they seemed to be only one voice. He admired their precision in\nthe utterance of every syllable, and in the softening, swelling, and\nsustaining of the voice, that although no more than men, they seemed\nto him like angels occupied in praising God; whereupon Bernacchi fell\ninto the following soliloquy: \u201cHow deceived have I been in myself; I\nthought that, after a long and diligent application to the art of singing\nunder such a master as Pestocchi, and having the natural gift of a good\nvoice, I might pretend to exercise my profession without any question.\nHow have I been deceived, being obliged to confess that the psalmody of\nthese religious has in it a value and a quality that renders their song\nsuperior to mine!\u201d\n\nDom Martene relates that, in his travels to visit the churches of France,\nhe passed by a church of Benedictine nuns, who met with a patron and\nbenefactor in the following manner: The Duc de Bournonville retiring from\nParis in disgrace to \u201cProvins,\u201d on his arrival inquired for the nearest\nchurch; and, upon being shown the church of these nuns, he entered it as\nthey were singing Vespers. So charmed was he by the sweetness of their\nsong, that he seemed to himself to be listening to angels, and not to\nhuman creatures. On hearing, in an interview that followed, that the\ncommunity were in debt, he gave the lady abbess an immediate present of\none thousand ecus, and ever afterwards continued to be a benefactor to\nthe convent (_Voyage Litt\u00e9raire_, etc., part i. p. 79).\n\nBaini (_Mem. Stor._, vol. ii. p. 122) quotes a letter, which is thus\naddressed to some English gentlemen who had visited Rome: \u201cTo Mr. Edward\nGrenfield, Fellow of the Royal Academy of London, to Mr. Davis, Mr.\nMorris, and other learned Englishmen, whose ears have not been altered by\nfashion, and made obtuse by habit, and who have been more than once heard\nto say, that they felt themselves more moved by the Gregorian Chant than\nby all the noisy performances of the greater part of our theatres.\u201d\n\nNor is this appreciation for Gregorian music confined merely to persons\nfrom among the multitude. The following are the sentiments of two of the\nmost distinguished musical scholars of the day:\n\n\u201cAll is worthy of admiration in the primitive Roman Chant. The tune of\nthe \u2018Kyrie,\u2019 for doubles and feasts of the first class, runs out to some\nlength, and is full of beautiful passages. That of Sundays is shorter\nand more simple, but not the less full of unction. In both the one and\nthe other it seems impossible to change or to suppress a note without\ndestroying a beautiful idea, where all hangs so perfectly together. With\nwhat natural, or rather inspired genius, has not this Kyrie, confined as\nit is to such narrow limits, been conceived to form a whole so complete\u201d\n(Fetis, _Des Origines du Plain Chant, ou Chant Eccl\u00e9siastique_).\n\n\u201cMusicians may oppose and contradict what I say as they please; they have\nfull liberty; but I am not afraid to assert that the ancient melodies of\nthe Gregorian Chant are inimitable. They may be copied, adapted to other\nwords, heaven knows how, but to make new ones equal to the first, that\nwill never be done\u201d (Baini, _Memorie Storiche di P. Pal\u00e6strina_, vol. ii.\np. 81).\n\nAnd again, describing Pal\u00e6strina as engaged in the task of revising the\nGradual, he says: \u201cBut the Gregorian chant claims a character wholly its\nown, has a beauty and a force proper only to itself. It is what it is,\nand does not change. But to remain ever the same, and to be susceptible\nof a change contrary to its nature, would be impossible. In a word, it\nmay be said that _heaven_ formed it through the early fathers, and then\nfractured the mould.\u201d\n\n\u201cPal\u00e6strina applied himself with the zeal of one who had deeply at heart\nthe majesty of divine worship. But having completed the first part, _De\nTempore_, his pen fell from his hands, and more wearied than Atlas under\nthe weight of the sky, he abandoned his attempt; and nothing was found\nat his death but the incomplete manuscript.\u2026 And thus we may see the\ngreatest man ever known in the art and science of figured music _become\nless than a mere baby_ when he wished to lay a _profane hand_ on the\nfathers and doctors of the Holy Roman Church. \u2026And how wise at last was\nhe, after having fruitlessly attempted in so many ways to correct this\n_divine song_ according to human ideas, to abandon the enterprise for\never, and to conceal up to his death the useless result of his labor,\nwhich he himself acknowledged to be unworthy of being made public\u201d (_Mem.\nStor._ vol. ii. p. 123).\n\nNext, as slightly illustrating its power of pleasing even a modern\nEuropean people, and that in contrast with the most elaborate products\nof modern art; in 1846, at the centenary Jubilee of the Feast of Corpus\nChristi at Liege, Mendelssohn\u2019s _Lauda Sion_ was sung at one of the\noffices. Yet the general opinion of the people who heard it (and who, by\nthe by, from its constant use in processions, are well acquainted with\nthe old Gregorian melody of the same sequence) was, that it was not\nto be compared to the ritual _Lauda Sion_. At the Metropolitan Church\nof Mechlin, on Easter Day, 1846, the students of the great and little\nseminaries united together to sing at the evening Benediction. The pieces\nsung were from Italian masters, Baini and a second, and the third was the\nGregorian sequence, _Victim\u00e6 Paschali Laudes_. One of the singers himself\ntold me that the people thought nothing comparable to the old melody,\nsung in simple unison.\n\nThe Collegiate Church of S. Gudule, in the city of Brussels, may also\nbe cited as an existing proof of the power of the old chant. Whoever\nhas heard the Requiem Mass and the _Te Deum_ sung in that church by\ntwo hundred voices in unison, must cease to think of the idea of its\npopularity as if it were strange.\n\nIn the church of Notre Dame, in Paris, the simple melody of the _Stabat\nMater_ is sometimes sung by a congregation of four thousand persons, at\nthe conclusion of the annual retreats, with an effect that can never be\nforgotten.\n\nAgain, as has been already said, the Requiem Mass, which took place\nin the Champs Elys\u00e9es after the terrible days of June (1848), it was\nproposed that the Mass should be sung in music; but the Republican\nauthorities, in conjunction with the bishops, forbade it, and the Plain\nChant was ordered instead. Tens of thousands joined in singing the _Dies\nir\u00e6_, and their voices seemed to rend the heavens.\n\nIn Germany, among the melodies that pass by tradition among the people,\nare many that are derived from the Ritual Chant of different localities,\nas may be seen by merely looking into their numerous printed collections\nof these melodies.\n\nThe Gregorian modes, again, as has been said, are far from being\nunpopular in their nature. Many of the Scotch and Irish melodies,\ntraditional among the people, belong to neither of the modern major nor\nminor modes. The French in Egypt found many traditional Arab melodies in\nthe Gregorian modes; and no doubt the same would be found to be the case\nover the whole world.\n\nThe chant of the Vespers is exceedingly popular among our congregations\nin England, though they are acquainted with it only in a form of\ndisguise, shorn of its antiphons, and encrusted with the deposit of a\nlong bandying about from organist to organist, like Ulysses, returning\nhome in rags and tatters after his many years\u2019 wandering. Why should not\nthe popularity of the whole, when it shall become known, by the kind\nefforts of such as will feel a pleasure in devoting themselves to teach\nit to the poor, be believed in, upon the augury of the known popularity\nof a mutilated and tattered part?\n\nThis idea has long since found a home among English Catholics. Charles\nButler, Esq., in his _Memoirs of English, Irish, and Scottish Catholics_,\nafter reviewing the chief Catholic composers of modern music, says: \u201cBut,\nwith great veneration for the composers and performers of these sacred\nstrains, the writer has no hesitation in expressing a decided wish that\nthe ancient Gregorian Chant was restored to its pristine honors.\u201d And\nagain:\n\n\u201cThere (in the church) let that music, and that music only, be performed,\nwhich is at once simple and solemn, which all can feel, and in which most\ncan join; let the congregation be taught to sing it in exact unison, and\nwith subdued voices; let the accompaniment be full and chaste; in a\nword, let it be the Gregorian Chant\u201d (vol. iv. p. 466).\n\nBenedict XIV., after expressing his own decided opinion of the superior\nfitness of the Plain Chant, accounts, by means of it, for a _fact_, that\nthose who think the Gregorian Chant an unpopular one, would do well to\nstudy. This, says he, is the chief cause why the people are so much more\nfond of the churches of the Regulars than the Seculars. And then he\nquotes a very remarkable passage from Jacques Eveillon: \u201cThis titillation\nof harmonized music is held very cheap by men of religious minds in\ncomparison with the sweetness of the Plain Chant and simple Psalmody.\nAnd hence it is that the people flock so eagerly to the churches of the\nmonks, who, taking piety for their guide in singing the praises of God\nwith a saintly moderation, after the counsel of the Prince of Psalmists,\nskilfully sing to their Lord as Lord, and serve God as God, with the\nutmost reverence\u201d (_Encyclical Letter_, p. 3).\n\nThe same Dom Martene who has been quoted above, often speaks, in the\nnarrative of his journey, of the different churches which he visited,\nand in which he was present at the celebration of any of the solemn\noffices of the Liturgy. The following passages are specimens of his\nopinion on the comparative merits of the Plain Chant. Describing the\nCathedral of Sens he says: \u201cPour ce qui est de l\u2019Eglise Cathedrale, elle\nest grande,\u201d etc. \u201cLa musique en est proscrite, on n\u2019y chante qu\u2019un\nbeau Plain Chant, qui est beaucoup plus agr\u00e9able que la musique.\u201d--\u201cAs\nregards the cathedral church, it is large and spacious, and figured\nmusic is banished from it. Nothing but a beautiful Plain Chant is sung\nin it, which is far more agreeable than music\u201d (Part i. p. 60). Again,\nspeaking of the Cathedral of Vienne (Dauphinois), he says: \u201cL\u2019Office s\u2019y\nfait en tout temps avec une gravit\u00e9 qui ne peut s\u2019exprimer. On en bannit\nenti\u00e8rement l\u2019orgue et la musique; mais le Plain Chant est si beau,\net se chante avec tant de mesure, qu\u2019il n\u2019y a point de musique qui en\napproche.\u201d--\u201cThe divine Office is sung there with a gravity that cannot\nbe surpassed. The organ and all figured music are banished from it; but\nthe Plain Chant is so beautiful, and is sung with so much rhythm, that\nthere is no music that can come near to it\u201d (Part i. p. 256).\n\nEven Rousseau, in his _Lexicon Musicum_, article, \u201cPlain Chant,\u201d says:\n\u201cIt is a name that is given in the Roman Church at this day to the\nEcclesiastical Chant. There remains to it enough of its former charms to\nbe far preferable, even in the state in which it now is (he is speaking\nof the falsified French edition of it), for the use to which it is\ndestined, than the effeminate and theatrical, frothy and flat, pieces\nof music which are substituted for it in many churches, devoid of all\ngravity, taste, and propriety, without a spark of respect for the place\nthey dare thus to profane.\u201d\n\nHere it occurs to reply to a remark that I have seen made, which unless\nit be founded, as is not impossible, on some very faulty version of the\nRoman Chant, seems to betray some little inexperience. After having\nadmitted a superiority of the Gregorian melodies for hymns written in\nthe classical metre, the writer proceeds to say: \u201cBut, on the other\nhand, let us take any one of the hymns of the church, in which, though\nthe words are Latin, the classical quantities are wholly disregarded,\nwhile the verse proceeds in the measured beat of modern poetry, and\nthe lines are all in rhyme, and let us make an effort to sing it to an\nunmutilated Gregorian Chant. What an absurd effect is the result! The\near is distracted between two principles of rhythm and versification.\nThe structure of the poetry forces us, whether we will or no, to mark\nthe divisions of the song in accordance with its beat and its rhyme;\nwhile the unmeasured, unmarked cadences of the music refuse to yield\nany willing obedience, and produce no melodious effect, except at an\nentire sacrifice of the principles on which they were framed. A wretched,\nhybrid, unmeaning series of sounds is the result, neither recitative nor\nsong, neither classic nor rhyming, neither Gregorian nor modern, but\nwholly barbarous.\u201d\n\nNow, if the writer of this passage be here speaking of the adapting of\nmelodies to words for which they were not composed, he is himself to\nblame for a result of which he is the sole cause. Dress a city alderman\nin the uniform of an officer of marines, and send him afloat on duty, if\nyou will, but do not lay it to his charge if the result is neither very\ncivic nor very nautical. But if the writer in question really means his\nwords to apply to the melodies to which these hymns are set in the Roman\nChant-books, he is confronted by the fact that, among these, and they are\nnow but few, chiefly in the Feast of Corpus Christi, are found the gems\nof Gregorian melody. Who is there that has heard the _Ave verum_ and the\n_Adoro te_, and the other hymns of S. Thomas on the Blessed Sacrament,\nsung to their original melodies, without feeling their exquisite rhythm\nand expressiveness? Again, the Gregorian melody of the _Dies ir\u00e6_, in the\nRequiem Mass, has Ch\u00e2teaubriand\u2019s express commendation as among the most\nmasterly adaptations of music to words. Lastly, the touching and most\nplaintive melody of the _Stabat Mater_, which brings tears into the eyes\nof all who hear and sing it.\n\nIf space permitted, it would be no very difficult task to multiply\nsuch proofs and examples as these of an inherent popularity, both in\nthe general character or effect, and in the particular parts of the\nRitual Chant. But I think enough has been adduced to indicate that the\npopularity is one that is co-extensive with mankind, that it finds an\necho in the human heart of every age, nation, or state of life. Of\ncourse, God, who gave the ecclesiastical song to work a work of mercy\namong the people, contemplates it as capable of popularity; and I think\nwe have evidence that this part of the divine idea is really fulfilled\nby the Ritual chant. And, without prejudging the result, I would wait\nto see whether indications of a similar popularity can be found for the\nworks of art with which I have been engaged in comparing it. However, I\nthink this is impossible; and for this reason: Things come to be popular\nby being often repeated; and suitableness for perpetual repetition is the\ntest of popularity. But if I am not mistaken, the perpetual production\nof novelties, which appear and then disappear, is a first and indeed\nindispensable principle in the mode of dealing with these works of art.\n\n\nSECURITY AGAINST ABUSE.\n\nAll things human are certainly liable to abuse and degeneracy, yet\nall are very far from being on a par with each other in this respect.\nIn all human undertakings, order, discipline, and system are the\ndivinely-appointed securities against abuse. Now, the Ritual Chant, as\nall who are acquainted with it know, is, like the ceremonial of the\nchurch, a perfect system. It has two large folio volumes of music,\nembracing the whole annual range of canonical offices, and a body of\nrules prescribing even the minuti\u00e6 of their celebration. On the other\nhand, the modern art has no such system, no such rules. Its use is, in\npractice, altogether subject to the dominion of individual taste. The\nchoir-master who likes Haydn\u2019s music, takes Haydn; another, who likes\nMozart, takes Mozart; another, who takes a trip on the continent, comes\nback with the newest French, German, or Italian novelties. I am not here\ninsisting on the singularly small portion of the liturgy that is set to\ncompositions of modern art, but on the entire absence of all system in\nthe use of the pieces themselves, on the complete subjection of the whole\nthing to individual caprice and taste.\n\nIt is quite true that the Bride of Christ is encompassed with variety\n(_circumdata varietate_). But the church is also the kingdom of the God\nof order; and I apprehend that between the _varietate_ characteristic of\nsuch a kingdom, and the variety actually introduced into Catholic worship\nby the unrestrained dominion of individual taste in music, there is the\nwidest possible difference.\n\nThe obvious exposure of modern music to the easiest inroads of every\nkind of abuse, in consequence of this absence of system, has been felt\nby its best-disposed advocates; and an able writer has maintained the\nnotion, that the compulsory use of the organ alone, to the exclusion\nof all orchestral instruments, especially the violin, would be an\nall-sufficient safeguard. But it is not very easy to see upon what\nprinciple orchestral instruments are to be excluded, when the whole thing\nis built on the principle of the supremacy of individual taste; and even\ncould they be excluded, it would still remain to be seen whether the\norgan itself were really the impeccable instrument it is represented.\n\nLet us hear a witness in the Established Church, where, according to this\nwriter, its dominion has been so unexceptionable. In the _Ecclesiastic_\nfor July, 1846, the following remarks occur: \u201cHow intolerable to such\nsaints (Ambrose and Gregory) would have been the attempt to give effect,\nas it is called, to the Psalms, by the organist\u2019s skilful management\nof the stops. What would they have thought of the mimic roll of the\nwater-floods, and the crash of the thunder, and the hail rattling on\nthe ground, the lions roaring after their prey down in the bass, and\nthe birds singing among the branches, represented by a twittering among\nthe small pipes? From a heathen poet these gentry might learn a lesson\nof reverence--Virgil seems to make it a point of natural piety not to\ncounterfeit the thunder of the Highest--\n\n    \u201cVidi et crudeles dantem Salmonea p\u0153nas,\n    Dum flammas Jovis et sonitus imitatur Olympi.\n    Demens qui nimbos et non imitabile fulmen\n    \u00c6re et cornipedum pulsu simularat equorum.\u201d\n\n    _\u00c6neid_, vi. 585.\n\nA real thunderstorm interrupting one of these mimic tempests on the\norgan, makes one feel the profaneness of the imitation.\u201d\n\nNow, it is fair to ask, if the organ is to be the guardian of the\nsobriety and gravity of modern art, who is to keep the organ in order?\n\n      \u201cQuis custodiet ipsum\n    Custodem?\u201d\n\nThere were great abuses in the use of modern art at the Council of Trent.\nYet the fathers of the council declined altogether to forbid its use.\nThey tacitly allowed its continuance, as it had come into existence,\nand could not be removed without serious evils. And with regard to the\nfavorable light in which its use was viewed by some of the bishops of\nthat council, and by some other men of authority who have since spoken in\nits commendation, it should be borne in mind that all such commendation\nhas had annexed to it the condition, _provided that such music be grave\nand decent, that the meaning of the divine words be not disguised in it,\nand that it possess nothing in common with the theatre_ (Benedict XIV.,\nEncyclical Letter). Of which conditions the subsequent history of the use\nof modern music in the church is, to say the least, a very inadequate\nfulfilment, as the ensuing testimony will show.\n\nBishop Lindanus, quoted in the same Encyclical Letter on the subject of\nchurch music, says: \u201cI know that I have often been in churches where I\nhave listened most attentively to learn what it was that was being sung,\nwithout being able to understand one single word.\u201d\n\nSalvator Rosa, the celebrated painter of the XVIIth century, gives the\nfollowing account of the church music of his day--the middle of the\ncentury:\n\n\u201cAn effeminate and lascivious music is the only thing that people at\nall care for. The race of musicians eats up all before it, and princes\ndo not scruple to lay burdens on their subjects to glut them according\nto their desires. The churches are made to serve as nests for these\nowls. The Psalms become blasphemies in passing through the mouths of\nthese wretches; and no scandal can equal that of the Mass and Vespers,\nbarked, brayed, and roared by such fellows. The air is so filled with\ntheir bellowings that the church resembles Noah\u2019s ark. At one time it\nis a _Miserere_ sung to a _chaconne_ (a sort of polka of that day); at\nanother, some other part of the Office adapted to music in the style of a\nfarce.\u201d (Quoted in M. Danjou\u2019s _Revue de Musique_, 3d year, page 119.)\n\nAgain, Abbot Gerbert, in 1750, complains so deeply of the degradation\nof the church music of his day as to say, in the preface to his learned\nwork _De Musica Sacra_, that the evil had grown to so great a pitch that,\nunless God in his mercy applied the remedy, which he had daily besought\nhim to do, all was over (_actum est_) with the decorum and solemnity of\nthe Catholic worship.\n\nYet this result ought really not to be a matter of surprise; for how can\nit be expected that the majesty and solemnity of worship should long\nsurvive when its music is left to the control of individual tastes?\n\nMusicians, therefore, when they plead for modern music, must plead for\nit as it exists in an ideal form in their own minds; and the advocate\nfor the use of the Ritual Chant objects to it, not as it might be if\nevery organist and company of singers were other Davids and the sons of\nAsaph, but for being what he hears it to be with his own ears wherever\nhe goes; for being what he knows it to have been, and still to be, from\nthe testimony of writers and travellers; and, lastly, from what he\nforesees it will be to the end of time. The one has before his mind\u2019s eye\nthe harmonies of heaven and the choirs of angels, and hopes to attain to\nthese with the elements of earth. A vision of glory flits before him,\nand, forgetting that the earth is peopled by sinners, he thinks it may at\nonce be grasped. The other remembers the sad reality of what it is; he\nthinks of the churches in which he has been present, where he has heard\nthe sounds of the theatre--the fiddle, the horn, and the kettle-drum;\nwhere he has heard the song of dancing-girls rather than of worshippers,\nand choruses rather of idolaters than of men believing in the mysteries\nat which they were present.\n\n    \u1f28\u03b0\u03c4\u03b5 \u03c0\u03b5\u03c1 \u03ba\u03bb\u03b1\u03b3\u03b3\u1f74 \u03b3\u03b5\u03c1\u03ac\u03bd\u03c9\u03bd \u03c0\u03ad\u03bb\u03b5\u03b9 \u03bf\u1f50\u03c1\u03b1\u03bd\u03cc\u03b8\u03b9 \u03c0\u03c1\u1f78,\n    \u0391\u1f35\u03c4\u2019 \u1f10\u03c0\u03b5\u1f76 \u03bf\u1f56\u03bd \u03c7\u03b5\u03b9\u03bc\u1ff6\u03bd\u03b1 \u03c6\u03cd\u03b3\u03bf\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u1f00\u03b8\u03ad\u03c3\u03c6\u03b1\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd \u1f44\u03bc\u03b2\u03c1\u03bf\u03bd.\n    \u039a\u03bb\u03b1\u03b3\u03b3\u1fc7 \u03c4\u03b1\u03af\u03b3\u03b5 \u03c0\u03ad\u03c4\u03bf\u03bd\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9 \u1f10\u03c0\u2019 \u1f60\u03ba\u03b5\u03b1\u03bd\u03bf\u1fd6\u03bf \u1fe5\u03bf\u03ac\u03c9\u03bd,\n    \u1f08\u03bd\u03b4\u03c1\u03ac\u03c3\u03b9 \u03a0\u03c5\u03b3\u03bc\u03b1\u03af\u03bf\u03b9\u03c3\u03b9 \u03c6\u03cc\u03bd\u03bf\u03bd \u03ba\u03b1\u1f76 \u03ba\u1fc6\u03c1\u03b1 \u03c6\u03ad\u03c1\u03bf\u03c5\u03c3\u03b1\u03b9.\n\n    _Iliad_, b. iii.\n\nOr, in the more humble words of an English poet--\n\n    \u201cAs if all kinds of noise had been\n    Contracted into one loud din.\u201d\n\n    _Hudibras_, canto ii. book ii.\n\nAnd I would ask, considering the endlessly varying caprices of the human\nmind, how any thing else except confusion and disorder is to be expected\nfrom the principle of the supremacy of individual taste; and if music in\nthe Christian Church is to be regarded as called to fulfil the intention\nof a God of order, in what way it is expected that this end will ever be\nrealized, where the safeguards of a fixed order and system are discarded,\nand individual discretion enthroned in their stead?\n\n\nLAST POINT OF THE COMPARISON.\n\n    _Catholicity of the Ecclesiastical Song, or its Companionship\n    of the Catholic Doctrines over the whole Globe._\n\nThis last point of the comparison, though far from the least weighty,\nto those who will fairly consider it, may happily be much more shortly\nstated. The Prophet Malachi predicted that, from the rising of the sun\nto its setting, God\u2019s name should be great among the Gentiles, and a\n\u201cpure offering\u201d (_munda oblatio_) should be offered to him; a prediction\nfulfilled by the fact of the Christian missionaries having carried the\nHoly Sacrifice of the Mass over the globe. If, then, there be a song\nwhich has ever been the faithful companion of this Holy Sacrifice,\nwherever it has been conveyed; that has ever been present with it when\nsolemnly offered; which has survived the passing away of generations;\nhas undergone no change, but is now what it was of old; is the same to\nthe priests of one nation which it is to those of another--if such a\nsong there be, it will hardly be disputed that such is an accredited\nand authentic song of the Christian kingdom. Yet such is the Ritual\nChant, which, at least in its well-known parts, has literally overspread\nthe whole globe. A French traveller in Russia, finding there the\nEcclesiastical Chant, and that the Greek Church had preserved it equally\nwith the Latin, speaks of it as a part of the \u201c_Dogme Catholique_\u201d--these\nchurch traditions of song seeming to him as great a bondage as the church\ntraditions of faith. (See a very well written paper in the _Ecclesiastic_\nfor July, 1846, a magazine conducted by clergy of the Established Church.)\n\nIf, then, the advocate for modern music be unable to point to any such\nfact as this for his art--if he be compelled to acknowledge that it is\nnecessarily confined to people either of European origin or education;\nthat it is no song for the Caffre of Africa, the Tartar of Asia, the\nsavage of Australia, the Red Indian of North America, the Esquimaux, the\nParaguay Indian--nothing but the luxury of the European; there can be\nlittle room to doubt that, on this last particular also, the Ritual Chant\nis the only adequate fulfilment of the divine idea.\n\n\nDR. DRAPER.\n\nIn consequence of the eulogy passed by Prof. Tyndall on Dr. Draper\u2019s\nbook, which is entitled a _History of the Intellectual Development of\nEurope_, we inquired with some curiosity for this work, and have since\nexamined it. It is evident that Prof. Tyndall himself is largely indebted\nto it, as he states; but a more flimsy and superficial attempt to trace\nthe history of philosophy we have never met with. It seems that this\ngentleman, Dr. Draper, is a professor of chemistry and physiology at New\nYork. His object, as he informs us, in this compilation, was to arrange\nthe evidence of the intellectual history of Europe on _physiological_\nprinciples. The style is feeble and incorrect, and the analysis of the\nGreek philosophy positively ludicrous. As, however, it might be inferred\nfrom Prof. Tyndall\u2019s address that Dr. Draper was, like himself, a\ndisciple and admirer of Democritus, we will give the American philosopher\nthe benefit of citing his own appreciation of the atomic theory. After\nstating that the theory of chemistry, as it now exists, essentially\nincludes the views of Democritus (a point on which we bow to his\nauthority), he proceeds thus, if we may be permitted slightly to abridge\na very clumsy sentence:\n\n\u201cA system thus based on secure mathematical considerations, and taking\nas its starting-point a vacuum and atoms--the former actionless and\npassionless, which recognizes in compound bodies specific arrangements\nof atoms to one another; which can rise to the conception that even a\nsingle atom may constitute a world--such a system may commend itself\nto our attention for its results, but surely not to our approval,\nwhen we find it carrying us to the conclusion that the soul is only a\nfinely-constituted form fitted into a grosser frame; that even to reason\nitself there is an impossibility of all certainty; that the final result\nof human inquiry is the absolute demonstration that man is incapable of\nknowledge; that the world is an illusive phantasm; and that there is no\nGod.\u201d\n\nSuch is the sentence passed upon Democritus and the atomic theory by Dr.\nDraper, on whom Prof. Tyndall assures us that he relies implicitly as\nan authority in the history of philosophy. Dr. Draper\u2019s account of the\nphilosophical opinions and writings of Cicero is in the highest degree\ninaccurate. But enough; we have done with him, and we advise Prof.\nTyndall to seek a better guide. Suppose, for example, he were to read\nthe dialogue of Velleius and Cotta in the first book of the _De Natura\nDeorum_.[153]--_Edinburgh Review._\n\n\nDANIEL O\u2019CONNELL.\n\nMan seeks in nature a hidden sympathy with himself. The quickened\nbeatings of his heart, the restless currents of his mind, make for\nthemselves a reflex image in the forces of the sea and sky. For ever, the\nwhite crests of the breakers rolling in from the western ocean curl up\nand lash themselves against the rocks on the coast of Kerry. For ever, in\nthe gray dusk, the waves, advancing and retreating, moan out a sad and\nhollow sound. In sorrow and in gladness their monotone is the same. Yet\nit well might be that the Irish peasant, in the year 1775, gathering kelp\nfor his patch of land from the shallow coves where the sea broke in over\nhis naked feet, felt, without thinking too closely about it, that nature,\nchill, leaden, and stern, mirrored there his own lot. The sudden gleams\nof blue sky through the drifting clouds reflected a buoyant humor that no\nsufferings could quite subdue.\n\nGeorge III. had reigned fifteen years. Dull, bigoted, cruel; striving\nin a blind way to be honest, but his blood tainted with the stains of\ncenturies of intolerance, he was now the living type of Protestant\nfanaticism. In Europe, the old order of things existed without break\nor fissure. In America, the first heavings of the volcano were plainly\nfelt. The King, Lords, and Commons of Ireland existed in name. The Irish\nParliament sat in College Green to register the degrees of the English\nPrivy Council. But what a Parliament! Four millions of Catholics without\na representative. The broken Treaty of Limerick might still be spoken of\namong the traditions of the Irish peasantry, but its guaranties had sunk\nmore completely out of the mind of the English and Irish legislatures\nthan the statutes of Gloucester. The Penal Code was in full legal\neffect. Burke had described it a few years before with the calmness of\nconcentrated passion as \u201cwell-digested and well-disposed in all its\nparts; a machine of wise and elaborate contrivance, and as well fitted\nfor the oppression, impoverishment, and degradation of a people, and the\ndebasement in them of human nature itself, as ever proceeded from the\nperverted ingenuity of man.\u201d Yet even Burke hardly gave credit enough\nto the magnificent qualities of the race which was able to survive this\ncode. It failed in its object. It did not succeed in extirpating them. It\nnever could degrade them, for they yielded neither to its blandishments\nnor its terrors.\n\nBut though holding fast the faith with such power as if God\u2019s arm\nspecially supported them therein for providential ends, English\nProtestant domination had broken down and crushed this once proud race\nto the very earth, in all material ways. The Israelites sweated not\nmore hopelessly in the Egyptian sands. In some respects the lot of the\nIrish was worse. Their task-masters were an intruding race; they were\naliens in their own land. The face of the country in many places still\nbore mute witness to Cromwell\u2019s pathway of blood and fire. Then the\nscriptural image had been reversed, and the Irish had been hewn down\nlike the Canaanites of old. The noonday horrors of Drogheda and Wexford\nhad left a scar in the national memory which time has not yet effaced.\nMurder, lust, and rapine, under the guise of religious fanaticism, had\nmade this people throw up its hands despairingly to heaven, as if hell\nitself had been thrown open, and its demons issued forth to scourge the\nland. The XVIIIth century had opened under changed, but it could hardly\nbe said better auspices. The fury of destruction had ceased, but had been\nsucceeded by the ingenious devices of legislative hatred and tyranny. The\nsword of Cromwell, dripping with the blood of men, women, and children,\nhad given place to the gibbet of William of Orange. The lawless murderer\nwas followed by the judicial torturer and jailer. The successors of\nWilliam III. trod faithfully in his footsteps. The parliaments of Anne,\nof George I., of George II. heaped new fetters on the Irish papist. What\nwonder that a lethargy like death settled down upon the native race? The\nnational idea was almost lost. It wavered and flickered like an expiring\nflame, yet was not quite extinguished. In caves and barns, by stealth,\nand at uncertain times, the Irish priest poured out a little oil from\nhis scanty cruse which kept alive in the heart of his countrymen the\nmemory of his religion and his national history. The \u201ciron fangs\u201d of\nthe code relaxed a little during the first years of the reign of George\nIII. Its victim lay stretched supine. More truly even than on a later\noccasion the words of Henry Grattan might have been applied to the\ncondition of the country. Ireland \u201clay helpless and motionless as if in\nthe tomb.\u201d But though politically dead, the vitality of the race was\ninexhaustible, unconquerable. Population increased. There was little or\nno emigration except among the Protestant linen weavers of the north. The\namazing fertility of the soil, spite of legislative drawbacks, made food\nplentiful. An English traveller, Arthur Young, in 1776, found the Irish\npeasantry quiet, apathetic, content to till their wretched holdings,\nat the mercy of their landlords, without complaint so long as they\ncould keep a shelter over their heads, and had potatoes enough to eat.\nPolitical ambition or aspirations, the hope or even desire of shaking\noff their chains and asserting their rights as freemen, did not seem to\nexist among them. Thus far the oppression of centuries had done its work.\nSome efforts at enfranchisement had been made by the Norman Catholic\naristocracy and the few old families of pure Irish blood who still held\ntheir estates, or portions of them, by sufferance; but the words of Swift\ncontinued true of the mass of the native race--not from want of natural\ncapacity or manhood--far from it; but from the effect of this grinding\noppression of centuries, and the systematic uprooting of all organization\namong them by English policy. They were \u201caltogether as inconsiderable,\u201d\nsaid the author of _Drapier\u2019s Letters_, \u201cas the women and children, \u2026\nwithout leaders, without discipline, \u2026 little better than hewers of wood\nand drawers of water, and out of all capacity of doing any mischief if\nthey were ever so well inclined.\u201d Swift went further and declared them\ndevoid of \u201cnatural courage.\u201d But this was the libel of the Protestant\nDean, not the belief of the Irish patriot. The title of the land, with\na few unimportant exceptions, had passed completely out of the native\nrace. Under the law none could be purchased. Education was forbidden.\nYet such was the ardor of the inherited love of learning which had once\ndistinguished the island, that Arthur Young found everywhere schools\nunder the hedges, or, as he himself says, often in the ditches.\n\nThe breath of liberty was beginning to stir among the Protestants of\nthe north, and the Volunteer movement was soon to lead the way to the\nshort-lived recognition of the legislative independence of Ireland which\nterminated with the Union. But among the mass of the Catholic Irish\npeasantry no corresponding feeling as to their political rights was\nmanifested, or was even in any degree possible. Arms were forbidden them.\nTerrible as the appellation sounds applied to that chivalrous race which\nhad won a deserved renown on so many battlefields of Europe, at home\nthey, were, in all outward respects, helots. The risings which sometimes\ntook place were seldom or never political. They were solely agrarian.\nThe infamous tithe-proctor roused a spasmodic, bloody resistance, which\nended with the removal of the special cause exciting it, never extending\nto any effective organization against the political slavery under which\nthey lay torpid. The Whiteboys and Hearts of Steel were not the material,\nnor were their aims and programmes the policy, out of which could spring\nsuch a revolution as was contemporaneously taking place in the American\ncolonies. The mass of the people looked on in hopeless indifference\nat the outbreaks of those secret societies, or in some instances\nvoluntarily combined against their indiscriminate violence. The native\nIrish bore their misery alone, without friends or sympathy except from\nFrance; and the interference of this power, by means of some feeble and\nunsuccessful landings in Ireland, served only to irritate England and\ntighten the chains of her captive. The mighty lever of moral support\nwhich is now wielded by the united voice of her sons in every quarter\nof the globe did not exist. In some counties, such as Kerry, where the\nnative language was chiefly spoken, and the Milesian Irish largely\npredominated, the harsh hand of the law was never stretched out but to\nseize upon the substance or the life of the people. The memory of liberty\ncould scarcely be said to exist in the hearts of this ancient race. That\ngift which the Greek fable had declared to have remained at the bottom\nof Pandora\u2019s box when all else escaped, seemed to have taken wing from\nIreland. Hope had fled.\n\nIn that age, under those skies, Daniel O\u2019Connell was born.\n\nOne hundred years have passed. Rises now the Genius of the Irish race\nin America to celebrate the centennial anniversary of that glorious\nbirth, to invoke in tones that peal across the waves--the memory of that\nillustrious and beloved name. A majestic, youthful presence, daughter of\nErin, robed in white and with a garland of green upon her brow, comes\nwith her sisters to lay a wreath upon the tomb of the Liberator of his\ncountry. _Non omnis moriar_, wrote the Latin poet:\n\n    \u201cI shall not wholly die. Some part,\n      Nor that a little, shall\n    Escape the dark Destroyer\u2019s dart\n      And his grim festival.\u201d\n\nConquerors and statesmen have repeated his words. But neither the\nglories of war nor the triumphs of politics have won for any a surer\nimmortality than O\u2019Connell\u2019s. His fortunes waning at the close, his\nblighted hopes, the broken column of his labors, have only endeared his\nmemory the more to his countrymen. Time has terminated discussion or\nsoftened its asperity. Nothing is remembered but his love and his labors\nfor Ireland. From Montreal to New Orleans, from the first shore on which\nthe Irish exile set his foot, across the continent to the Pacific Coast,\nover an expanse of country so vast that the parent isle would form but an\noasis in its central desert--myriad voices repeat his name, proclaiming\nin various forms of words, but with one meaning, this eternal truth, that\nfreedom beaten to the earth will rise again. If in spirit the heroic\nfigure of the great Tribune could top once more the Hill of Tara, what\na spectacle would spread out before his eye unobscured by its earthly\nveil! A mightier multitude would listen to his strong and mellow voice.\nThe descendants of the men into whose bruised and downcast hearts he\nfirst breathed the hope and the ardor of liberty have built up a greater\nIreland in America. Sharing in the glories and faithful to the traditions\nof American freedom--yielding to none in the duties of citizenship--they\nhave yet carried with them, and handed down to their sons, that love\nof the mother country which seems ever to burn with a brighter flame\nin man\u2019s heart in enforced or unmerited exile. Irish-American generals\nhave equalled or eclipsed the fame of those distinguished soldiers whose\nexploits in the service of foreign powers are household words in the\nmilitary history of the race.\n\nCitizens and soldiers unite to commemorate the birth of the man whose\nsingle arm struck off the fetters that had bound their fathers for nearly\nthree hundred years.\n\nIf we turn to Ireland itself, we shall find the change which has been\naccomplished in those one hundred years in some respects more profound\nand startling than the corresponding advance in the fortunes of the Irish\nin America. The latter has been the regular and graduated result of\ncauses working in ascertained channels; the former has all the character\nof a moral revolution. Ireland has not, it is true, gained that political\nindependence with which her sons in these United States started. But over\nthe far longer road before her to reach that goal her stride has been\nvast and, if we consider the growth of nations, rapid. To appreciate the\ntransformation in the character and position of the Irish peasant we must\nrecall what he was in 1775. Catholic emancipation was a wrench to the\nreligious and social traditions of the English nation, and at the same\ntime a dead-lift to the moral status of the Irish, to which no parallel\nwill be found in history. Repeal failed from causes which we can now\neasily discern, but which were hidden from O\u2019Connell by his proximity to\nthe Union. But no Coercion Bills can conceal the fact that the strength\nof Ireland is growing in a ratio greater than her bonds. The tendency\nof modern European politics, and, willingly or unwillingly, of English\nlegislation itself, and the increasing material prosperity of Ireland,\nare adverse to them, and continuously wearing them away. Her national\nspirit is indomitable. The hour may be distant, but it is inevitable,\nwhen they will fall from around her, and she will step forth in all the\nmajesty of freedom.\n\nWhat, then, is the place O\u2019Connell holds in the national development\nof his race during those one hundred years? What are the achievements,\ngreater than all defeats, which demand from his countrymen a recognition\nthat no centennial celebration of his memory can too honorably offer.\n\nIn any view of modern Irish history it is essential to a clear\nunderstanding of its motives that we should distinguish the character\nand position of the three great races occupying the island. It is not\nenough to divide the people into Saxon and Celt. The native Irish race,\nthe blended result of the successive ancient colonizations of the island,\nremained essentially distinct from the Catholic Norman Irish even after\nthe Reformation. The intermarriages and adoption of Irish customs, which\nhad early given to the descendants of Strongbow\u2019s followers the title\n\u201cHibernicis Hiberniores,\u201d had still left them a higher caste. They\nretained a not inconsiderable portion of their great estates through all\nthe civil wars. The Penal Code never fell upon them with the rigor and\nleaden weight that paralyzed the native Irish. Their wealth purchased\nimmunity. Although formally ostracized from political life, their\ninfluence as landowners secured them consideration. The observance of the\nduties enjoined by their religion was connived at. In other cases they\nwere powerful enough to make it respected.\n\nFar different was the case of the Milesian Irish. Their history had\nbeen a series of heroic struggles, ending in what appeared to be\nirretrievable disaster. Before the process of consolidation, which was\nsimultaneously going on all over Europe, and which would have welded\nthe various septs and kingdoms into one nation, could be completed, the\nNorman invasion under Strongbow had introduced a new and more furious\nelement of strife. The Reformation only changed their masters, but\nchanged them for the worse. Hitherto they had been serfs. They now became\nhelots. The glorious deeds of arms of the O\u2019Neals and other chieftains,\nwhich more than once threatened to drive the English into the sea,\ndelayed but could not finally avert the complete triumph of combined\ncraft and superior resources. Projects for the extirpation of the native\nrace were freely mooted. Famine, the sword, and the gallows at one time\nseemed almost to promise it. The same price was set on the priest\u2019s and\nthe wolf\u2019s head. A non-Catholic writer, Lecky, gives this summary of the\nPenal Code as it existed when O\u2019Connell was born:\n\n    \u201cBy this code the Roman Catholics were absolutely excluded from\n    the Parliament, from the magistracy, from the corporations,\n    from the bench, and from the bar. They could not vote at\n    parliamentary elections or at vestries. They could not act\n    as constables, or sheriffs, or jurymen, or serve in the army\n    or navy, or become solicitors, or even hold the position of\n    gamekeeper or watchman. Schools were established to bring up\n    their children as Protestants; and if they refused to avail\n    themselves of these, they were deliberately consigned to\n    hopeless ignorance, being excluded from the university, and\n    debarred under crushing penalties from acting as schoolmasters,\n    as ushers, or as private tutors, or from sending their children\n    abroad to obtain the instruction they were refused at home.\n    They could not marry Protestants; and if such a marriage\n    were celebrated, it was annulled by law, and the priest\n    who officiated might be hung. They could not buy land, or\n    inherit or receive it as a gift from Protestants, or hold life\n    annuities, or leases for more than thirty-one years, or any\n    lease on such terms that the profit of the land exceeded one\n    third of the rent. If any Catholic leaseholder so increased\n    his profits that they exceeded this proportion, and did not\n    immediately make a corresponding increase in his payments,\n    any Protestant who gave the information could enter into\n    possession of his farm. If any Catholic had secretly purchased\n    his old forfeited estate, or any other land, any Protestant\n    who informed against him might become the proprietor. The\n    few Catholic landholders who remained were deprived of the\n    right which all other classes possessed, of bequeathing their\n    lands as they pleased. If their sons continued Catholic, it\n    was divided equally between them. If, however, the eldest son\n    consented to apostatize, the estate was settled upon him, the\n    father from that hour becoming only a life-tenant, and losing\n    all power of selling, mortgaging, or otherwise disposing of\n    it. If the wife of a Catholic abandoned the religion of her\n    husband, she was immediately free from his control, and the\n    chancellor was empowered to assign her a certain proportion of\n    her husband\u2019s property. If any child, however young, professed\n    itself a Protestant, it was at once taken from its father\u2019s\n    care, and the chancellor could oblige the father to declare\n    upon oath the value of his property, both real and personal,\n    and could assign for the present maintenance and future portion\n    of the converted child such proportion of that property as the\n    court might decree. No Catholic could be guardian either to\n    his own children or those of any other person; and therefore\n    a Catholic who died while his children were minors, had the\n    bitterness of reflecting upon his deathbed that they must pass\n    into the care of Protestants. An annuity of from twenty to\n    forty pounds was provided as a bribe for every priest who would\n    become a Protestant. To convert a Protestant to Catholicism\n    was a capital offence. In every walk of life the Catholic was\n    pursued by persecution or restriction. Except in the linen\n    trade, he could not have more than two apprentices. He could\n    not possess a horse of more than the value of five pounds,\n    and any Protestant upon giving him five pounds could take his\n    horse. He was compelled to pay double to the militia. He was\n    forbidden, except under particular conditions, to live in\n    Galway or Limerick. In case of a war with a Catholic power,\n    the Catholics were obliged to reimburse the damage done by\n    the enemy\u2019s privateers. The legislature, it is true, did not\n    venture absolutely to suppress their worship, but it existed\n    only by a doubtful connivance, stigmatized as if it were a\n    species of licensed prostitution, and subject to conditions\n    which, if they had been enforced, would have rendered its\n    continuance impossible. An old law which prohibited it, and\n    another which enjoined attendance at the Anglican worship,\n    remained unrepealed, and might at any time be revived; and the\n    former was in fact enforced during the Scotch rebellion of\n    1715. The parish priests, who alone were allowed to officiate,\n    were compelled to be registered, and were forbidden to keep\n    curates, or officiate anywhere except in their own parishes.\n    The chapels might not have bells or steeples. No crosses\n    might be publicly erected. Pilgrimages to the holy wells\n    were forbidden. Not only all monks and friars, but also all\n    Catholic archbishops, bishops, deacons, and other dignitaries,\n    were ordered by a certain day to leave the country, and, if\n    after that date they were found in Ireland, they were liable\n    to be first imprisoned and then banished; and if after that\n    banishment they returned to discharge their duties in their\n    dioceses, they were liable to the punishment of death. To\n    facilitate the discovery of offences against the code, two\n    justices of the peace might at any time compel any Catholic of\n    eighteen years of age to declare when and where he last heard\n    Mass, what persons were present, and who officiated; and if he\n    refused to give evidence they might imprison him for twelve\n    months, or until he paid a fine of twenty pounds. Any one who\n    harbored ecclesiastics from beyond the seas was subject to\n    fines which for the third offence amounted to the confiscation\n    of all his goods. A graduated scale of rewards was offered for\n    the discovery of Catholic bishops, priests, and schoolmasters;\n    and a resolution of the House of Commons pronounced the\n    prosecuting and informing against papists \u2018an honorable service\n    to the government.\u2019\u201d[154]\n\nThis is a dark picture. Yet it is drawn by an unwilling hand. Instances\nmight be accumulated where the severity of the law was outstripped by\nthe barbarity of its execution. Important relief bills were passed in\n1777 and 1793. But they provided only for the removal of some of the\ncivil and political disabilities of the Catholics. The badge of religious\ndegradation remained untouched. The heaviest fetters of that iron code\nstill trailed after the limbs of the Irish Catholic. It is the glory of\nO\u2019Connell that he finally snapped them in twain, and trampled them for\never in the dust. Englishman, Norman, and Milesian--the British colonist\nwho clung to a proscribed faith in every quarter of the globe--shared in\nthe results of that herculean labor.\n\nBut it is the special claim of O\u2019Connell to the eternal gratitude of that\nnative Irish race to which he belonged, that he, first of all, after\nthat bondage of centuries, taught them to lift up their heads to the\nlevel of freemen. Had his work stopped at Emancipation, had his claim\nto fame and a place in the national memory been included solely in the\nnoble title of Liberator, enough had been done by one man for humanity\nand his own renown. But in the course of that long struggle a greater and\nfurther-reaching consequence was involved. A transformation took place\nin the character of the native Irish, the full results of which are not\nyet visible. In their journey through the desert, in their marchings and\ncounter-marchings, their victories and transient defeats, as they neared\nthe borders of the promised land towards which he led them, a change\nwonderful, but not without parallel, became visible in their spirit and\ntheir hopes. Insensibly and by slow degrees the political torpor of\ncenturies yielded to a new and living warmth. A generation sprang up\nwhich had flung aside the isolation and submissive hopelessness of 1775,\nyet was capable of a greater and more sustained effort than the frenzy of\ndespair which prompted \u201998. Under the ardor of O\u2019Connell\u2019s burning words,\na full understanding of the functions of self-government permeated a race\nwhich had hitherto seemed to exist by the sufferance of its masters. He\nnot only liberated his countrymen from religious bondage, he organized\nthem into a nation. He gave them the first impact of self-government\nsince the Invasion. And that impact is never again likely to be lost.\n\nDaniel O\u2019Connell did not, like some other great popular leaders, spring\ndirectly from the midst of the people whose passions he swayed and\nwhose actions moved obedient to his will. His family belonged to the\nold Irish gentry. He had the advantages of that collegiate course in\nFrance which was the only way then open to Catholics of the upper classes\nto afford their sons a liberal education. Yet his family was allied\nclosely enough to the people to make him share in all their feelings,\nsympathies, and sufferings. The author whom we have already quoted,\nwith that curious blindness, the result of unconscious prejudice, which\nmakes most non-Catholic writers, however otherwise acute, miss the\ntrue threads of Irish history, and insult the national sensibility at\nthe very moment they think themselves the most liberal, sets down as a\ndefect in O\u2019Connell what was in reality the secret of his power. \u201cWith\nthe great qualities,\u201d he says, \u201cof O\u2019Connell there were mingled great\ndefects, which I have not attempted to conceal, and which are of a kind\npeculiarly repulsive to a refined and lofty nature. His character was\nessentially that of a Celtic peasant.\u201d\n\nYes, this was at once his glory and his strength. O\u2019Connell\u2019s personal\ntraits of character reflected faithfully, on a heroic scale, the national\nfeatures of his race. Not the coarseness nor scurrility ascribed to it\nby the stage buffoon or the unsympathetic publicist, but the powerful\nyet subtle understanding which has won for Irishmen in every age the\nhighest distinction in the field and in the schools, the large, warm\nheart, easily swayed by generous impulses, the humor closely allied\nto tears which is the secret of the most popular oratory. It is this\nthorough identification with the national spirit, with the religion which\nthe persecution of centuries had made inseparable from it, that makes\nO\u2019Connell without equal or second among the great men who nobly contended\nfor their country\u2019s freedom at the end of the last and beginning of the\npresent century. He stands alone, gifted with a power to which neither\nthe highest intellect nor the most brilliant oratory could otherwise\nobtain. He swayed the force of the nation he had welded into shape.\nIt was this tremendous lever--obedient, one might almost say without\nfigure of speech, to his single arm--that enabled him to wrest Catholic\nEmancipation from the combined determined opposition of the King,\nParliament, and people of England.\n\nFor forty years Henry Grattan labored with chivalrous devotion in the\nservice of Ireland. His eloquence has a charm, a poetical inspiration,\na classical finish O\u2019Connell\u2019s never equalled. It thrilled the Irish\nParliament like the sound of a trumpet, and held spell-bound the hostile\nEnglish House of Commons. His patriotism was as unselfish, his zeal, in a\ncertain sense, as ardent as O\u2019Connell\u2019s. Yet what did Grattan ultimately\naccomplish? What was the end of all these noble gifts and labors? Having,\nas he said, \u201cwatched by the cradle\u201d of the constitutional independence of\nthe Irish Parliament, he lived to \u201cfollow its hearse\u201d; and when he died\nin 1820, Catholic Emancipation, the cause of which had been committed to\nhis hands, became more hopelessly distant than ever. His was individual\ngenius, individual energy, of a very high, if not the highest, type. But\nit needed something more to win in such a cause. Classical eloquence was\nthrown away in such a struggle. The concentrated strength of national\nenthusiasm, careless of form, animated only by a single giant purpose,\nwas demanded. Grattan, though such a man as Irishmen of every creed might\nwell be proud of, was, unfortunately for his success in the attainment of\ngreat national aims, neither a Catholic nor identified with the \u201cCeltic\npeasant.\u201d He lacked the fundamental force bred of the soil. O\u2019Connell, on\nthe other hand, might truly be likened to that fabled giant of antiquity,\nAnt\u00e6us, who gained a tenfold strength each time he was flung upon his\nmother earth. Well might he declare, when reproached on one occasion\nfor the violence of his language, \u201cIf I did not use the sledge-hammer,\nI could never crush our enemies.\u201d It was a war of extremities. It was\nan epoch surcharged with the elements of moral explosions, when men\u2019s\npassions were roused to the highest pitch. Those who read now the\nmeasured language of Disraeli in Parliament will pause in astonishment\nwhen they turn back to the frenzied raving with which he replied on a\nmemorable occasion to the terrible invective of O\u2019Connell. In such an era\nof violence, of anarchic strife, Grattan\u2019s \u201cwinged words\u201d fell harmless,\nbut O\u2019Connell\u2019s \u201csledge-hammer,\u201d wielded with the arm of Thor, thundered\nits most effective blows.\n\nAnother great Irishman had passed off the stage while the young Dublin\nlaw student, Daniel O\u2019Connell, was still only dreaming of the liberation\nof his country. Edmund Burke--revered and illustrious name!--had rounded\noff the labors of his long and honorable life in the cause of oppressed\nhumanity, wherever found, by some strenuous and well-directed efforts for\nthe relief of his Catholic fellow-countrymen. Yet he too failed, or at\nbest gained but an indifferent success. The principles he enunciated are\nimperishable; his arguments will be preserved for ever among the grandest\nvindications of religious liberty in the English tongue. But in that age\nthey fell upon deaf ears. He too wanted that element of success which\ncomes from identity of race, religion, feelings, opinions, sympathies.\nTo that native Irish race which must ever determine the destinies of\nIreland he was a stranger. What a satire upon humanity to expect that men\nin their position--bondsmen, systematically, and under legal penalties,\ndeprived of all education, of every means of information--could\nappreciate the teachings of a political philosopher, living in what they\nregarded, with good cause, as a foreign or even hostile country. It\nwas well if they knew of his existence. He was no leader for them. Nor\ndid Burke ever affect to act with them, but rather for them, upon the\nconvictions of the higher English and Irish classes. Hence it is that\nO\u2019Connell is to be regarded as the purely national type of leader; by\nmeans of action exercising a more powerful influence on human affairs\nthrough the wide-spread Irish race than Burke by means of thought.\n\nIt will thus be seen that we place O\u2019Connell on a high plane--above,\nand different from, that of mere orators, or statesmen administering\nestablished affairs, however great. He is to be ranked with the\nnation-builders of all ages. This was the verdict of most contemporary\nEuropean observers, of Montalembert, of Ventura, and other exponents of\ncontinental public opinion. To the English mind he was, and probably will\nalways be, a demagogue, pure and simple. But so no doubt was Themistocles\nto the Persians. O\u2019Connell stormed too many English prejudices--stormed\nthem with a violence which to his opponents seemed extravagant and\nunendurable, but without which he could never have gained his end--to be\nforgiven. The judgment of his countrymen, however--the supreme arbiter\nfor him--is already maturing to a decision in his favor which will place\nhim in a niche in the hall of Irish heroes above all others, and side\nby side with that old king whose memory recalls the ancient glories and\nvictories of Ireland.\n\nBut what of his defeats?--of the failure of Repeal? This is not a\npanegyric on O\u2019Connell, but a sincere examination of his place in Irish\nhistory. In many instances, and above all on the question of Repeal,\nhe miscalculated his forces and the strength of the forces opposed\nto him. Like the greatest men of action in every age, his movements\nwere directed by the circumstances and exigencies of the occasion, by\nexperience, by the shifting currents of events, by his ability to create\nthose currents, or to turn them to his own purpose. The cast-iron rules\nof policy which political philosophers formulate in their closets may\nbe singularly inappropriate for the uses of popular leaders. In 1829,\nunder the banner of Moral Force, with the nation arrayed behind him, he\nhad wrested Emancipation from the king and ministry. It was an immense\ntriumph. His temperament was sanguine--an element of weakness, but also\nof strength. In the hopeless state in which he found Ireland, only a\ncharacter of the most enthusiastic kind would have ventured on the\ncrusade he opened. In 1843, he thought he could repeat his victory on\nthe question of Repeal. But in 1829 Peel and Wellington yielded, not to\nmoral force, which, so far as Ireland is concerned, is a term unknown in\nEnglish politics, but to the armed figure of rebellion standing behind\nit. They were not prepared for the contest. In 1843, the English ministry\nwere ready to crush opposition with an overwhelming military force. If\nthey did not invite rebellion, as in \u201998, they were equally ready to\nride roughshod over Ireland. The circumstances of the contest had also\nchanged. Catholic Emancipation attacked the religious prejudices of\nEngland; Repeal threatened its existence as a nation. It could grant the\none, and still maintain its hatred of Popery; it could not yield the\nother without setting up a legislature with rival interests in politics\nand trade. The instinct of self-preservation was evoked. No argument\nwill ever convince the average Englishman that in restoring a separate,\nindependent Parliament to Ireland, he is not laying the foundation of a\nhostile state. The result in 1843 was inevitable. As soon as a sufficient\nmilitary force was concentrated, remonstrance or negotiation ceased.\nEngland simply drew her sword and flung it into the scale. O\u2019Connell and\nhis associates were thrown into prison, and the guns of the Pigeon-House\nFort were trained on the road to Clontarf.\n\nIn the varied history of the human race few spectacles have ever been\npresented of equal moral grandeur to those immense peaceful open-air\nmeetings which gathered to hear the great tribune. No greater testimony\nwas ever given of a nation\u2019s confidence and love. Competent judges put\ndown the number who assembled at the Hill of Tara at half a million\nof people. Yet to the unbiassed observer there is something almost as\npathetic in the helplessness of this great multitude--hoping to wrest\ntheir independence from England without arms--as grand in the mighty\nsurge of its numbers. It was the confederacy of the sheep against the\nwolves. O\u2019Connell\u2019s failure shows vividly how narrow is the plank\nupon which the popular leader walks between an immortal triumph and a\nprison cell. It reveals the tremendous power residing in an organized\ngovernment, capable only of resistance by a people in arms and inured to\nthe use of arms. That was a monster meeting of a different kind held on\nBunker Hill one hundred years ago, and commemorated this year by these\nUnited States.\n\nWe are neither impeaching here the wisdom of the course pursued by\nO\u2019Connell in 1843, nor advising armed rebellion against England at\nthe present day. We discuss simply the historical aspects of the\nquestion in the light of the experience of other nations. Nothing can\nbe more hazardous, however, or often absolutely fallacious, than broad\ngeneralizations from the history of other countries as capable of\ndetermining a particular line of policy for any given state. In nothing\nelse did O\u2019Connell show a higher wisdom as a leader of the Irish people\nthan in rejecting those specious appeals to the success of arms in\nAmerica, made by the more ardent patriots in 1845-46.\n\nThe circumstances of the two countries were radically different. The\nAmericans exhausted every kind of \u201cmoral force\u201d at their disposal, and\ntheir revolution, when it finally came to blows, was not aggressive but\ndefensive; the policy of England made it incumbent on Ireland to strike\nthe first blow in a contest which she would quickly have found herself\nunable to sustain. The Americans had a boundless territory; the Irish a\nnarrow island, capable of being pierced from shore to shore by English\ntroops in three weeks. The Americans were trained to arms by a war of one\nhundred years with the French and Indians, in which they were drilled\nand fought side by side with English regiments; the Irish--the native\nCatholic Irish, the people for whom O\u2019Connell was responsible before\nGod and mankind--could not keep a pike since the Treaty of Limerick.\nAn Irish rebellion, therefore, would have meant simply a massacre;\nand O\u2019Connell, in choosing the wiser course of present submission to\nsuperior force, merited as much, although in defeat, the gratitude of his\ncountrymen as he did in his triumph in the cause of Emancipation. For it\nwill have been gathered from what we have already said that we regard\nO\u2019Connell\u2019s greatest achievement in the service of his country--its\npolitical organization, the education of its sons in the knowledge of the\nrights and duties of freemen--as going on with equal step as well with\nthe unsuccessful agitation for Repeal as with the triumphant struggle\nfor Emancipation. His defeats carried with them the germs of victory.\nThe most ardent lover of his country can scarce escape an uneasy feeling\nwhen he reads in the annals of Ireland that story, reiterated with\npainful monotony, page after page, of the harryings, the devastations,\nthe ceaseless intestine wars, which mark its early history. It would seem\nsometimes as if the ancient learning of Ireland which produced those\nnumerous and minute chronicles, served only the purpose of a reproach\nto the island which fostered it. Other nations had struggled through\nthis transition period--common to the whole of Europe--and finally\nconsolidated themselves into peaceful and harmonious states. But it was\nthe misfortune of Ireland that this opportunity of domestic organization\nwas snatched from her by a foreign invasion ending in a domination of\nwhich the cardinal principle was to \u201cdivide and conquer.\u201d English writers\nsatirize the civil discord of the Irish race, forgetful that from the\ntime of Henry II. to that of George III. it was the steady, and as it\nthen seemed intelligent, policy of successive English statesmen to foster\nwars between the rival chieftains and clans, to employ them against one\nanother, and in every way to break down any incipient attempt at union,\nwhich must have been dangerous, if not fatal, to English power. No man\nhad arisen among the Irish race till O\u2019Connell\u2019s time who neutralized\nthat policy. He showed that they were capable of organization and\nself-government in a patriotic common cause. In those immense meetings\nwhich marked his progress, where men of every county united in one vast\nbrotherhood, he proved, first, that the Irish people loved domestic\npeace and co-operation as much as any other race; and, secondly, that\nunder happy auspices they possessed a wonderful capacity for order\nand self control. Even hostile observers concur in expressing as much\nadmiration for the undisturbed peacefulness of those assemblages of from\na quarter to half a million of people, as amazement at their vastness,\nunprecedented in history. They were the foundation of the political\neducation of Ireland.\n\nIn another country, and a more remote age, another man of kindred, kingly\nspirit and organizing power, with whom O\u2019Connell is not unworthy to be\ncompared, had built up his vast empire by like national meetings, not\nless than by force of arms. In the great national meetings of the Franks,\nthe _Champs de Mai_, Charlemagne gave the first impress of government to\nEurope, torn to pieces after the fall of the Roman Empire. O\u2019Connell,\nanother \u201cking of men\u201d--such as the Homeric legend sings of--emulated his\nlabors on a less extended scale in Ireland. But the empire of Charlemagne\nfell to pieces with his death. Chaos reigned again. O\u2019Connell\u2019s work was\nmore homogeneous, and promises to be more enduring. We are only entering\nupon the dawn of a more hopeful Irish history.\n\nWhen we seek a comparison of individual action, in the history of\nEngland, with O\u2019Connell\u2019s, we are struck at once with the grand but\nsorrowful isolation of his position. Fortunate the country which has\nnever needed a liberator! Happy the kingdom whose greatest revolution\nmeant only a change of dynasty, a stronger leaven of republicanism,\nand surer guarantees against religious toleration! The growth of\nconstitutional government in England has been comparatively steady\nand uniform. Never--since the amalgamation of races following the\nNorman invasion--subjected to the terrible consequences of conquest\nand occupation by a race alien in language, religion, and national\nprejudices, her political and religious struggles have been wrought\nout to an issue among her own population. Whenever her civil liberty\nor parliamentary privileges were threatened, sturdy champions were not\nwanting among her own sons. Her Pyms, Hampdens, and Eliots find their\ncounterparts in the Grattans and Floods of Ireland. But the deliverer\nof a crushed and hopeless people, the inspired guide who led them out\nof bondage and defied their taskmasters, is a figure happily absent in\nEnglish history.\n\nThe imagination naturally turns with vivid interest to great deeds of\narms. The pomp and panoply of war, the heroic daring of the headlong\ncharge, the valor, disdainful of death, that awaits with constancy an\noverwhelming foe--these are incentives to action, in presence of which\nthe labors and even triumphs of peaceful agitation appear tame and slow.\nAnd the Irish are a people strongly susceptible to those influences.\nThey are a warlike race. Wherever the tide of battle turns against great\nodds, where the smoke is thickest, and the carnage deadliest, there will\nbe found some Irish name upholding the traditions of his country\u2019s fame.\nO\u2019Connell had therefore no easy task in restraining within peaceful\nlimits the immense agitation he had evoked. And in estimating his place\nin history the same considerations place him at a disadvantage compared\nwith those great warriors, the glitter of whose victories is identified\nwith the warlike glories of their country. The \u201cBridge of Lodi,\u201d the \u201cSun\nof Austerlitz\u201d--these are talismanic words which then rang in people\u2019s\nears with startling sequence? Yet if we compare O\u2019Connell\u2019s labors and\ntheir results with those of the great soldier whose career had closed\nwhile the former was only beginning his peaceful struggle with England,\nthere is no reason to shrink from the verdict. Emancipation was worth\nmany Marengos. The _r\u00f4le_ of the Liberator may fairly be set off against\nthat of the Conqueror. The civic crown of green and gold placed on\nO\u2019Connell\u2019s head on the Rath of Mullaghmast, in the presence of 400,000\nmen, was an emblem of true sovereignty greater in many ways than that\niron crown which Napoleon lifted with his own ambitious hands from the\naltar at Milan. One was rust-eaten, it might be said, with the blood\nand tears of unknown thousands; the other was invested with the halo of\npeace, which the attainment of religious liberty and education in the\nrights of freemen had introduced into a million humble homes. The career\nof both Napoleon and O\u2019Connell ended in defeat. But how conflicting\nthe emotions of each as he gazed for the last time on the shores of his\ncountry! One, preoccupied by the shattering of his gigantic ambition,\nand the assertion of petty details of etiquette in the midst of the ruin\naround him; the other, oblivious of self, weighed down by the doom of\nfamine impending over his country--his last words a solemn and pathetic\nappeal for its protection. In the hour of adversity, stripped of the\nadventitious circumstances of power, O\u2019Connell stands forth a figure of\ngreater moral grandeur. Of the victories of Napoleon nothing remains\nbut their name, and the terrible retribution that has followed them.\nThe influence of O\u2019Connell\u2019s unselfish labors in the cause of religious\nfreedom has a future practically endless; and after a season of adversity\nand apparent forgetfulness, his political maxims and principles are again\nreviving in Ireland in the constitutional agitation for Home Rule. Not in\nthe demand itself, stopping short as it does of Repeal, but in the means\nby which alone its advocacy may be made successful.\n\nIt is a curious instance of the ebb and flow of historical movements\nthat O\u2019Connell was at one time prepared to take up, under the name of\n\u201cFederalism,\u201d the present demand for \u201cHome Rule.\u201d Ultimately, as is\nwell known, he was forced to abandon it by the mutiny of his followers,\nwho would be satisfied with nothing less than simple \u201cRepeal.\u201d And this\nreluctance to adopt a middle course was natural enough at the time.\nIn 1840-45 the Irish people were still too close to the Union; the\ninfamous history of that measure and the burning eloquence of Grattan and\nPlunkett in denouncing it were too strongly impressed upon the national\nmemory, to allow any hope of success to a leader who would promise\nless than its total erasure from the statute book. Too many were still\nliving--like O\u2019Connell himself--who could remember the brief yet glorious\nhistory of Irish legislative independence, to give up the belief that it\nwas yet possible to see an Irish parliament sitting in College Green.\nExperience, and the statesmanship which does not aim at the unattainable,\nhave shown the practical superiority of the lesser demand as a political\nprogramme at the present day. But this does not impugn the wisdom of the\nRepeal agitation. The true course of a people in its national affairs is\nnecessarily learned slowly. There is no ready-made chart in politics; and\nwere any offered, Burke\u2019s satire upon geometrical demonstrations in state\naffairs would be conclusive against it. Experience, even the experience\nof failure, is the only trustworthy guide; and successive agitations,\nthough varying in their object, keep alive the cause in the national\nmemory.\n\nThough the best and truest friends of Ireland, including that venerable\nhierarchy which has steadily seconded every rational movement for\njustice and equal rights, have never hesitated to give their support to\nO\u2019Connell\u2019s policy of moral force, there have not been wanting from the\nfirst restless spirits who have made it their bitterest reproach against\nhim, that he was unwilling to fling away the scabbard and plunge the\ncountry into rebellion. It would be unjust to speak of all these men as\ninfluenced by unworthy motives. Some of them breathed, and still breathe,\nthe purest aspirations of patriotism. But it was a mistaken patriotism,\ninfluenced by examples which might indeed make martyrs, but which would\nnever lift one chain from the neck of their country. They might make good\nsoldiers, but were poor leaders. Ireland was not then, and is not now, in\na position to gain anything by a policy of violence.\n\nBut there are others, inflamed not with a love of Ireland, but with a\nspirit of hostility to all governments, who would plunge their country\ninto bloodshed in hope of themselves floating to the top. These men are\ninfected with the spirit of the Commune. They are revolutionists--not\nin the sense in which Washington or Hampden or O\u2019Connell were\nrevolutionists--leaders of great movements for the liberties of\npeoples--but socialists, whose single incentive is the envy and hatred\nof all superior authority. Most of all, they desire to supplant the\nIrish priesthood as the guides of the people. A sorry exchange, from the\nwell-tried friends, proved by the exacting ordeal of a thousand years, to\nmen of no responsibility--mere political gamblers--whose highest motive\nis ambition, but a lower and more common one, the love of easy-gotten\nmoney from confiding people. These conspirators are the promoters of the\nsecret societies against which O\u2019Connell warned the Irish people. But\nunfortunately they too often find that generous-hearted race--embittered\nby the recollection of centuries of oppression--willing to give ear to\ntheir delusive promises. Indifferent to their own future, these men\nrejoice in anarchy. Some of them are no doubt poltroons, who would fly\nas soon as they had led their dupes into danger. But it would be false\nto deny them all the attributes of courage. Others would die bravely\nenough behind a barricade. But their wars are essentially wars of the\nbarricades. If defeated they would perish recklessly, having nothing at\nstake to make life valuable--absolutely indifferent to the slaughter, to\nthe burned homes, to the widows and orphans of the unfortunate people who\nhad submitted to their fatal guidance. If successful, their next attack\nwould be upon the Catholic Church. But success under such leadership is\na delusion wilder than the most exaggerated dream of fiction. They have\nno conception of a national revolution higher than a conspiracy. The\nelevated principles, the far-sighted calculations of a Washington, an\nAdams, or a Franklin, which almost assured success from the start, are an\nunknown language to them. Blind hatred, even of an existing tyranny, is a\npoor basis upon which to sustain a long and exhausting war. And no one,\nwith the history of the American Revolution before him, can doubt what\nthe character of an armed struggle with England for the independence of\nIreland would be.\n\nThe same spirit of patriotism, therefore, that urged Washington to throw\nhis sword into the scale in the contest with Great Britain, animated\nO\u2019Connell with a contrary purpose in the case of Ireland. Yet not less is\nthe latter deserving of the title of \u201cFather of his Country.\u201d Success has\ncrowned the American patriot with a more splendid fame. But when we weigh\nthe individual exertions of each in his gigantic struggle with the great\nempire opposed to him, and consider the incalculable advantages which a\nboundless territory and an intervening ocean afforded to the American\nleader, the Irish liberator will not suffer from the comparison.\nWashington was surrounded and sustained by a group of great men who would\nseem to have been providentially raised up at that momentous epoch to lay\nthe foundations of the noble structure of American liberty. O\u2019Connell,\nstanding alone, an Atlas supporting the fortunes of six millions of\nIrish Catholics on his shoulders, is a figure unexampled in history.\nHis herculean labors recall the fables of antiquity. In the whole\nparliamentary history of England we read of no other example of one man\nfacing and trampling over the utmost hostility of that proud and powerful\nassembly--the English House of Commons.\n\nYet though the pre-eminence of O\u2019Connell makes him appear almost a\nsolitary figure in the records of that day, it would be unjust, in a\nnotice of him, to pass over the assistance he received from the brilliant\nrhetoric and astute intellect of Richard Lalor Sheil. Though holding\na subordinate place to that of the great Agitator, and accused of\nlukewarmness, in the end, by O\u2019Connell himself, whose \u201cSheil, Sheil! this\nwill never do,\u201d has become historic, his early exertions merit a grateful\nremembrance. Nor can any Irishman ever forget the profound learning,\nthe masterly reasoning, the weight of character which Dr. Doyle, the\ncelebrated \u201cJ. K. L.,\u201d brought to the contest in the early days of the\nCatholic Association. Rivalling Swift in the keenness of his satire, and\n\u201cJunius\u201d in the brilliancy of his style, he united to those qualities a\npurity of purpose and freedom from personal rancor which neither of those\nwriters possessed. His life is an imperishable monument of the patriotism\nof the Catholic hierarchy of Ireland.\n\nIt is not the purpose of this article to speak of O\u2019Connell\u2019s position\nin the English House of Commons, of his action on the question of\nReform, or the revenues of the Irish Church, on which he anticipated the\ntardy measure of Mr. Gladstone; nor of the truly liberal and tolerant\nspirit which made him welcome into the ranks of the Repealers the\ntalented Protestant youth of Ireland, and oppose every manifestation\nof religious rancor wherever he found it. We have sufficiently pointed\nout what we believe to be his enduring claims to immortality--Catholic\nEmancipation, and, in pursuance of that aim and of Repeal, the new level\nof political thought and action to which he lifted the Irish race. He\nis the grandest representative of the pure Celtic blood of Ireland that\nthe ages have produced. His power, like that of all other great national\nleaders, depended upon that representative quality. And he used his\npower faithfully. Unlike the great German chancellor of the present day,\nwho, beginning with the _r\u00f4le_ of a national liberator and organizer,\nhas ended in a career of foreign domination and domestic persecution,\nO\u2019Connell never perverted the strongest and noblest of popular forces\nto the uses of tyranny under any form. Prince Bismarck\u2019s plans lead up\nto that very r\u00e9gime of hate, cruelty, and oppression which O\u2019Connell\ncombated in Ireland, and if they become the settled policy of the Empire,\nmust in time give birth to a German Liberator.\n\nIt remains only to say a word upon the future of that Irish people to\nwhom O\u2019Connell devoted his life. We will not venture upon hazardous\nspeculations. The wisdom of his policy was never more apparent than\nto-day. The motives upon which it was founded repeat themselves\nanew. There are too many interests in Ireland--Irish and Catholic\ninterests--opposed to revolutionary violences, to make rebellion either\ndesirable or practicable. It is only those who want to confiscate and\nlive by tumult that cry out for it. The same communists who burned Paris\nand murdered its priests and archbishop under the name of liberty, would\nlike to sack Dublin under the cry of \u201cDown with the Saxon!\u201d National\nideas are everywhere the footballs of those radicals, by which they lead\nthe easily-swayed multitude to follow them in their game of plunder. But\nan Irish communist--that is, one born of a Catholic Irish stock--is a\ncreature of abnormal growth. He will never make much headway in Ireland.\n\nThe true course of modern Irish politics points to the assertion of\nthat principle of federalism which has been established as the basis of\ngovernment in Austro-Hungary, in Canada and all the great free British\nColonies, and in the United States, and which, under the name of \u201cHome\nRule,\u201d is now the matured policy of the trustworthy exponents of Irish\npublic opinion. We would not be understood to commit ourselves to any\nparticular political programme, but before any of what may be termed\nsentimental considerations, it would seem that the leaders of public\nopinion in Ireland must direct their energies to build up its material\nprosperity, and this can be best accomplished by local self-government.\nUnanimity in its pursuit is therefore demanded even of those who\nultimately look beyond it. A rich and prosperous community will not long\nremain enslaved. It is only the poor who are trampled on, among nations\nas among individuals. It must be admitted, however, that nothing could\nwell appear more hopeless than the present position of the Home Rulers in\nthe English House of Commons. The decisive triumph of the Conservative\nreaction has put them out of the calculations of both parties. But\nthis state of things is not likely to exist in the next Parliament,\nnor in the one after. Courage and endurance, therefore--the virtues of\nO\u2019Connell--are the virtues that are needed in this temporary Slough of\nDespond. The contempt, so loudly and persistently expressed as to imply\nsome apprehension, the frenzy of opposition, Home Rule has evoked in the\nHouse of Commons, we do not count for more than it is worth. It is not\nmore bitter or uncompromising than the same feeling prior to Emancipation\nor even Reform. The same threats of eternal opposition were then common.\nIt took sixty years of active opposition to gain the former; the same\nnumber at least and enormous outside agitation to carry the latter. The\nsuccess of great national movements is necessarily slow against existing\nforces, and must often be transmitted from generation to generation.\nThere is no need therefore of discouragement at a temporary check. Local\nself-government--the same that exists in New York and Massachusetts, and\nfor the same objects--leaving foreign and exclusively national questions\nfor the consideration of an Imperial Parliament, as for Congress--is a\ndemand that commends itself to the feeling of justice of all mankind, a\nfeeling which England will eventually be unable to resist. We are not\nof those who inculcate an eternal policy of revenge. This is easy for\nirresponsible demagogues to preach, but blows are not given without\nbeing received. The reality, the dreadful experiences of war, soon teach\nmoderation where war is felt. Even were the two states independent, peace\nwith England would be the true policy of Ireland.\n\nAs for the Irish in America, the future lies before them brilliant,\nunclouded. It is bounded only by their own ability to make it honorable\nand useful. Relying primarily, like every other man in the community,\nupon his own industry, sobriety, and energy, the Irishman in the United\nStates or Canada may attain to any position he is fitted for. If in some\ninstances he has to encounter native prejudices, these will be best\novercome by an earnest effort on his own part to observe faithfully all\nthe duties of citizenship. No one who does so will ever fail to obtain\nthe respect and support of his Protestant neighbors. Those who make\nforeign grudges their first consideration must expect to be looked upon\nas strangers. Yet we must face what exists. So long as the stream of\nimmigration continues to pour into this country, so long will there be\na large body of our countrymen, receiving continual accessions, whose\ndearest thoughts will be directed towards Ireland, their bitterest\ntowards England. This is inevitable. England reaps the fruit of her\npast. She is now in the position of a jailer who would fain take off the\nhandcuffs from her prisoner, but dares not, for fear of retrospective\nrevenge. The misgovernment of ages cannot be blotted out from the\nmemory of the misgoverned in a day--nor in a hundred years. It is a\nnational Nemesis; and it will be well for England if it do not overtake\nher in some dreadful form. This feeling naturally finds its strongest\nexpression in the United States. Sympathy with the mother country will\nnever fail. And God forbid that it should do so. But let that sympathy\ntake a proper direction, an efficient form. Give the strength of your\nmoral support--of your purses, if you will--to the men who are carrying\non under a different form the work of O\u2019Connell in Ireland--who are now\nbravely struggling for Home Rule. But turn a stern countenance on those\nadventurers and desperadoes who have nothing wiser to advise than wild\nand criminal incursions into a friendly province, where Irishmen possess\nall the rights they do here, or conspiracies and secret societies in\nIreland--projects which make the honest patriotism and tried courage\nof Irishmen a farce for the laughter of mankind. The Irish in America\nhave many traps laid for their nationality and their faith; but let them\navoid the snares of revolutionary, infidel leaders for themselves, and\nof godless schools for their children, and the day will eventually dawn\nwhen the weight of their support will turn the scale in favor of their\ncountry\u2019s rights against England. This is the true way to follow the\nexample and honor the memory of O\u2019Connell.\n\nIn spirit, the Great Liberator still beckons the way to his countrymen.\nThe echo of that voice, sonorous, but clear and sweet as a silver bell,\nis heard no more on the hillsides of Erin. The clover springs up where\nthe feet of thousands pressed closer to listen to its magic spell. But\nhis memory is eternal as the hills themselves.\n\n    \u201cBy constancy like his sustained,\n      Pollux, of yore, and Hercules,\n    The starry eminences gained.\u201d[155]\n\nUnwearied by labors, animated by a single passion--the love of\ncountry--men like him \u201cbecoming the heroes and benefactors of the human\nrace, attain to the glory of immortality.\u201d The national historian, in a\nfuture age, will date the rehabilitation of Ireland from the birth of\nO\u2019Connell.\n\n\nULTRAISM.\n\nTo be ultra is to go beyond. It is to attack the sceptre in the name of\nthe throne, and the mitre in the name of the altar; it is to maltreat\nthe thing you support; it is to kick in the traces; it is to cavil at\nthe stake for undercooking heretics; it is to reproach the idol with a\nlack of idolatry; it is to insult by an excess of respect; it is to find\nin the Pope too little papistry, in the king too little royalty, and too\nmuch light in the night; it is to be dissatisfied with the albatross,\nwith snow, with the swan, and the lily, in the name of whiteness; it is\nto be the partisan of things to the point of becoming their enemy; it is\nto be so very pro that you are con.--_Victor Hugo._\n\n\nMARIA IMMACOLATA OF BOURBON.[156]\n\nWe still see her, a gentle and beautiful girl of fourteen, seated beside\nher brother, the exiled King of Naples, in a low carriage which passes\nthrough the Villa Borghese, in Rome. Her face is of the Bourbon mould. A\nfair, open forehead, doubly suggestive of the water-lily, because of its\nsnowy whiteness and the innocent frankness with which it seems to turn\ntowards heaven. Bright hazel eyes, the limpid, loving depths of which\nare expressive of the innocence and purity of the soul, which gives them\nlife and light; while the lines of her chaste mouth and finely-chiselled\nchin are ever forming themselves into a subdued smile of love, of peace,\nand of quiet resignation. There is a modesty, and withal an elegance in\nher dress and carriage, which strike the beholder at once. Her eyes do\nnot wander about, but are fixed with trusting tenderness on the face of\nher brother, or rest affectionately upon the beautiful greyhound which\ncrouches at her feet and looks up at her with an earnestness almost\nhuman. It may have been a mere fancy of ours, founded on our knowledge of\nthe history of that lovely creature; but it always seemed to us that the\nearnest look of the dog at its young mistress was one of pity as well as\nof affection--pity because she was an exiled princess; affection, because\nshe was fair to behold and gentle in demeanor, and the life-giving\nspirit of both qualities was a pure and noble soul, which we have since\nlearned to regard with a veneration not unlike that which we bear towards\na saint. We do not purpose to write her biography, nor even her memoirs.\nWe will merely sketch briefly, and in the simplicity with which they\nwere narrated to us, some recollections of that short life of nineteen\nyears which wrought a chastening and ennobling influence upon all whose\nhappiness it was to be near her.\n\nMaria Immacolata Aloysia of Bourbon was the youngest child but one\nof Ferdinand II., King of Naples, and Maria Theresa of Austria, his\nsecond wife, and was born in the castle of Caserta, on the 21st of\nJanuary, 1855. Her father the king died when she was quite young, and\nwas succeeded on the throne by Francis II., the first-born of his\nmarriage with the saintly Maria Christina of Savoy. After the death of\nFerdinand, the Queen-Mother, Maria Theresa, devoted all her energies to\nthe religious and secular education of her four children, the Princess\nMaria Pia; Prince Don Pasquale, Count of Bari; the subject of this\nsketch, Princess Maria Immacolata, and Prince Don Gennarino, Count of\nCaltagirone. In doing this she was actuated by a strong sense of the\nobligations of a Christian mother towards her children, while she felt\nthat in discharging these obligations with fidelity she paid a worthy\ntribute to the memory of her deceased consort. Maria Immacolata, even\nin childhood, showed herself worthy of the sweet name which was given\nher in baptism, and the name of Aloysia was peculiarly becoming to her;\nfor as S. Aloysius was called \u201cthe Angel of the Court of Mantua,\u201d so\ndid her sweet and angelic disposition win for her the appellation of\n\u201cAngel of the Court of Naples.\u201d Naples, however, was not destined to\npossess its \u201cangel\u201d long. The sad history of the treacherous expulsion of\nFrancis II. by his own first cousin, Victor Emanuel, is too well known\nto need recital here. Enough to say, that in 1861 the Bourbons were\nforced to fly from the fortress of Gaeta and seek refuge in Rome, which\nwas still the home of the exile, the weary, and the world-worn. As their\nfather Ferdinand had offered an asylum to Pius IX. when the revolution\nof 1848 drove him from Rome, so now the noble heart of the Pontiff\nsympathized with the exiles, and he forthwith ordered the Quirinal\nPalace to be prepared for their reception. King Francis soon after took\nup his residence in the Farnese Palace, and the Queen-Mother retired\nwith her four children to Palazzo Nipoti. It is into this sanctuary of\npiety, order, and industry that we would introduce the reader, that he\nmay admire with us the domestic virtues of that Christian mother Maria\nTheresa. All is order, tranquillity, and modesty. Each prince has his\nown separate apartment and his own instructors. The hours for retiring\nto bed at night, rising in the morning, for prayers, Mass, study,\nmeals, and recreation are regularly established. Besides the ordinary\nexercises of piety, there is a religious instruction given once a week,\nand a spiritual retreat once a year, at which the queen herself and\nevery member of her household assist. She is the ruling and guiding\nspirit of all, and it was but natural, under the influence of such a\nperfect model, that the children should soon give evidences of those\nrare qualities of mind and soul which, in later years, became the theme\nof general admiration. Such was the domestic life of the exiles. It was\nhere that the character of Maria Immacolata began to develop itself\nwith singular beauty. Naturally pious, she loved God tenderly. At the\nreligious instructions she observed a gravity of demeanor rarely met with\nin a child of her years, and on retiring to her room, she used to note\ndown upon a slip of paper the principal points in the discourse which\nshe had just heard. Her temperament was a lively one, and no one enjoyed\nthe hours of recreation more heartily than she did. Yet it was apparent\nto all as she grew up that she was struggling hard to obtain a perfect\nmastery over herself, and the success which attended her efforts was\nespecially manifest in her affectionate obedience to the queen, to her\nelder brothers and sister. The sweetest little nook in the Nipoti Palace\nwas the room of Maria Immacolata. It was so small, so neat, so orderly,\nand the little altar in one corner, surmounted by a statuette of the\nImmaculate Conception, and ornamented with sweet-smelling flowers, told\nmore plainly than words could who was the occupant. During the month\nof May her room became a little Eden of flowers in honor of the Virgin\nMary. But other flowers were offered up to Our Lady which were far more\nacceptable to her than the fairest flowers of earth. On the altar stood\na little vase of porphyry, containing a number of slips of paper, upon\nwhich was written the name of some virtue, some act of charity to be\nperformed, or little mortification to be practised. Every morning, she\nand her sister, Maria Pia, repaired together to this urn, and, with joy\ndepicted in their countenances, each drew out a slip of paper. Immacolata\nwas always wont to say, when she had read her slip of paper, \u201cO mamma!\nI need this virtue so much.\u201d It has been said that love is ingenious;\nand if this be true of that love which creatures, following a God-given\ninstinct, bear one towards another, it must find a proportionately more\nbeautiful application in the love which a pure creature of the earth\ncherishes for the Immaculate Queen of Heaven. Maria Immacolata and her\nsister were not content with practising daily the virtues named on each\nslip of paper, but on the last day of the month they collected all the\nslips of paper together, and, with the addition of some lilies, they\nwove them into a chaplet, with which they crowned the statue of their\nQueen. The idea had a doubly beautiful significance, being suggestive\nat once of purity of heart and the traditional love of the Bourbons for\nthe lily. The young princess was scarcely eleven years of age when she\nwas told, to her unutterable delight, that she might prepare to receive\nher First Communion. In this event of her life our admiration is divided\nbetween the solicitous care of her noble mother in preparing her daughter\nfor a worthy reception of the Blessed Eucharist, and the holy readiness\nand thorough spirit of appreciation with which the child performed all\nthat was enjoined upon her. In order to remove every possible occasion\nof distraction during the spiritual retreat of eight days, which she\nmade in the palace under the direction of a Jesuit father, she sent all\nher toys to a conservatory of little girls, and on the day previous\nto her beginning the exercises, she was overheard to say to a parrot,\nof which she was very fond, \u201cBird, you and I must part for awhile; a\ngreat Visitor is coming, and I must prepare to receive him.\u201d She went\nso far as to deny herself the cup of chicken-broth which she was in the\nhabit of taking in the morning, because of her delicate constitution.\nDuring the retreat she prayed most fervently to S. Aloysius, to whom\nshe was tenderly devoted, beseeching him to obtain for her the grace of\novercoming the enemies of her soul--the world, the passions, and the\ndemon. After her death, a slip of paper was found in her prayer-book,\nupon which she had noted down all that she intended to ask our Lord for\nat her First Communion. She seems to have been strongly attached to her\ngoverness, for she writes: \u201cand I will pray for Maria Laserre, that she\nmay never be separated from me; and I will also pray,\u201d said the child,\n\u201cfor Victor Emanuel, that God may enlighten him and pardon him all the\nharm he has done to us.\u201d The first prayer received a gracious hearing,\nand we find Maria Laserre her constant and cheerful companion in all\nthe trials and vicissitudes to which that short and guileless life was\nafterward subject. The other prayer reveals a sensitive soul, which was\npenetrated to its depths with a full and saddening consciousness of\nthe monstrous wrongs which her family had suffered from their disloyal\ncousin, and at the same time a generous, forgiving spirit, not unlike\nthat which prompted the touching prayer of Christ upon the cross,\n\u201cFather! forgive them.\u201d Many a noble deed is recorded of the Bourbons\nwhen they were in power, when the _fleur-de-lis_ was the emblem of a\nglorious reality; but there is a sublimity of pathos in the forgiving\nprayer of the delicate child of eleven, despoiled of every vestige of\nroyalty but her princely name, which is far beyond our appreciation, and\nis only justly estimated by Him who taught us to forgive the trespasses\nof others if we would hope for the forgiveness of our own. For all the\nfavors which she asked of S. Aloysius she promised to give him a clasp of\ndiamonds, which she had received from the king her father. Her anxiety,\nhowever, was great lest her mother might not consent to her parting with\nsuch a precious souvenir, as will appear in the letters which she wrote\nto the saint during the retreat, and which were found after her death in\na small silver purse which she carried about with her. They are written\nin elegant French. As they were never intended for mortal eyes, but were\naddressed in all innocence and simplicity to a saint in heaven, we take\nthem up with all possible delicacy, and reverence for the chaste heart\nof which they were the candid outpouring. While they bear testimony to\nher purity of soul, they are also an evidence of what religion was to\nher--not a hard, galling yoke, which must be borne from sheer necessity,\nnor a heavy burden, to be carried only on a Sunday or a holyday. No,\nthere was an every-day warmth in her religion; it was something near at\nhand, familiar, consoling, and refreshing, and nowhere more perfectly\nembodied than in the short definition of the Redeemer: \u201cMy yoke is\nsweet, and my burden light.\u201d Here is one of her letters:\n\n\u201cO great saint! who never lost your innocence, and who by your sanctity\nbrought so much glory and honor upon your mother; S. Aloysius Gonzaga,\npatron of the young, you who were possessed of a great knowledge of the\nworld and of human frailty, I recommend myself to you, that, by your\nintercession with Jesus Christ our Lord, you obtain for me the grace that\nI too may make a good First Communion. S. Aloysius Gonzaga! you who knew\nso well how to make a First Communion, oh! grant that the First Communion\nmay be for me the beginning of a new life, the rule and guide of all my\nactions; and that I too may begin to battle courageously with the world,\nthe demon, and my own passions. Grant me this favor, O great Saint!\nMeanwhile, I choose thee for my protector, and I will recommend myself\nto thee every day, in every sorrowful trial, at every suggestion of the\nenemy, and in every instance of impatience; and when temptation assails\nme, I will say a Gloria Patri for thee.\n\n                             \u201cMARIA IMMACOLATA OF BOURBON (great sinner).\n\n\u201c_Postscript._--Pray for me, O great Saint! and obtain for me these\ngraces. Glory be to God the Father! O my S. Aloysius Gonzaga! pray that\nmamma will permit me without hesitation to carry as a gift to your chapel\nthat little clasp of diamonds, and give me light to know how to ask her\nwell for the favor, and how to reply, if she makes any objection.\n\n                                                      \u201cTHE GREAT SINNER.\u201d\n\nAnother letter is couched in these terms:\n\n\u201cO S. Aloysius Gonzaga! you see that I recommend myself to you every\nday, as I promised you. Now, obtain this grace for me, that mamma may\nlook at me with a good face when I ask her for the cope for Father\nN., of your own society; but especially when I ask her for the first\nfavor (permission to bestow the diamonds upon S. Aloysius), that she\nmay say yes without hesitating; and that she may also allow me to give\nmy photograph to Don Domenico (an old domestic in the family). But let\nmamma say _yes_ without difficulty. I ask you earnestly. Glory be to the\nFather.\u201d\n\nHere is another precious document:\n\n\u201cO S. Aloysius! my protector, I again recommend myself to thee. Give me\nlight and obtain for me the grace that I may make my First Communion\nwell. O happy day! O day that comes but once! O thrice happy day! Great\nSaint! give me thy faith, give me the faith of all the saints. Pray that\nI may not be ashamed to confess my sins. Meanwhile, I am thankful to thee\nfor the favor which thou hast granted me in the clasp of diamonds, and\nfor other favors, which I received from thee on other occasions. Pray for\nthe most humble servant of God.\n\n                                             \u201cM. I. OF B. (great sinner).\n\n\u201c_Postscript._--I recommend myself to thee, my dear protector; do me this\nfavor: ask God to pardon me.\u201d\n\nThe \u201cthrice happy day\u201d came at last, and on the 24th of December, 1865,\nshe received Holy Communion from the hands of Cardinal Riario Sforza, in\nthe same chapel in which her \u201cdear Protector,\u201d S. Aloysius, pronounced\nhis vows. This chapel is in the Roman College, where S. Aloysius lived\nand died. It was beautifully ornamented for the occasion, and, besides\nthe king, queen, and queen-mother, with their suites, a number of\ndistinguished persons were present, and a score of little girls, dressed\nin white, assisted at the Mass, bearing lighted tapers in their hands.\nEvery eye rested on Maria Immacolata, whose recollection edified all\npresent. The smile which played around her mouth, and the blush which\nmantled her cheeks, were but faint indications of the happiness in her\nsoul. What passed in that abode of purity and innocence is known only to\nherself and Him whom she loved. We can only narrate what we saw. Having\nobtained permission, she repaired with her governess, after thanksgiving,\nto the room of S. Aloysius, and with a face all aglow with joy, she\nplaced a little casket on the altar. It was the clasp of diamonds. On\nleaving the room of the saint, she remarked to her companion that she was\noverwhelmed with gratitude towards God. \u201cI must make him a present;\u201d and\nbefore the day was over she had bestowed every coin in her purse upon\nhis poor. Only one piece of gold was reserved, and that she sent on the\nfollowing day to a conservatory, to clothe a little orphan girl of her\nown age, who was preparing for her First Communion. But of her boundless\ncharity we will have more to say anon.\n\nThe summer of 1867 found the royal exiles at Albano, a charming country\nresort on the Appian Way, about fifteen miles from Rome. They had not\nbeen there long when the Asiatic cholera broke out with a violence\nunprecedented in the history of that terrible plague. The victims daily\nwere numbered by hundreds. Not a family in the city was spared.\n\nThe first victim in the Bourbon family was the young Prince Gennarino,\na bright little boy of eight years. At the first symptoms of the malady\nhe asked for his confessor, and confessed with such compunction of heart\nthat the good priest was moved to tears. He begged earnestly that he\nmight receive Holy Communion; \u201cfor,\u201d said the little fellow, \u201cI want to\ndie like a man.\u201d Though he was so young, his request was granted. His\nFirst Communion was his Viaticum, and \u201clike a man\u201d the young Bourbon\npassed to another life. But death had singled out a more illustrious\nvictim in the person of Maria Theresa, the Queen-Mother. Her whole life\nhaving been one of preparation, her death was that of the just. And here\nwe would willingly stop to admire the character of that noble Christian\nmother, and worthy descendant of the great Maria Theresa of Austria; but\nwe are restrained from doing so by the reflection that we cannot pay a\nmore worthy or glowing tribute to her memory, than by sketching the life\nand character of her saintly daughter Maria Immacolata. To a heart so\nsensitive, so appreciative and affectionate, as was that of Immacolata,\nthe death of a mother was a great blow, and it was a long time before\nshe could be comforted. King Francis now became the natural protector of\nthe orphans, and took them to his own residence in the Farnese Palace,\nin Rome. The habit of study had already been formed in the children by\ntheir saintly mother, and so they applied themselves with renewed vigor\nto the acquisition of knowledge. Maria Immacolata was gifted with talents\nof the highest order. Besides speaking her own language with captivating\nsweetness she spoke French and German fluently, and the facility with\nwhich she could pass from one language to another was surprising. Drawing\nwas her passion, and her sketches in oil and water colors gave evidence\nof no inconsiderable genius. Wherever she went, she brought her drawing\nmaterials with her, and amused herself by sketching landscapes, palaces,\nvillas, and the like. She was equally skilled in portraits, and the last\nproduction of her pencil, a beautiful picture of the Immaculate Heart,\nhas been very much admired. Literature was another source of pleasure to\nher. Though she had a lofty appreciation of the beauties of the Italian\nlanguage, and was passionately fond of reading, she was never known to\nindulge in light and promiscuous literature. While applying herself\nto the cultivation of her mind, she did not forget the more modest\naccomplishments which become her sex; and there are several beggars in\nRome this day who will show, with no small pride, the coarse stockings\nwhich were knitted for them by the tiny hands of Maria Immacolata of\nBourbon. But these and many other accomplishments were but as the gold\nwhich encircles a diamond of rare value and purity. Her richest treasure\nwas her humility and modesty. Her conversation, though entertaining and\nlively, was modest; her deportment, though easy and graceful, equally\nso. The sweetness of her disposition was especially noticeable in her\ntreatment of domestics.\n\nIn the October of 1867 the Eternal City was thrown into a state of\nexcitement and trepidation by the news that Garibaldi, with his horde\nof desperadoes, was on the march for Rome. The little army of the Pope\nprepared to make a gallant defence, and a number of chivalrous Roman\nyouths of the best families offered themselves to swell the ranks of the\nPapal legions. Francis II. and his two brothers were among the first to\nrush to the defence of the country--the only country which was now left\nthem. Their two orphan sisters, Maria Pia and Maria Immacolata, were\nconsequently left alone in the Farnese Palace. They did not remain long\nunprotected, for the Holy Father sent for the two princesses, and had\nthem brought into the Vatican, where the magnificent apartment of the\nCountess Mathilde had been prepared for them. Here they remained until\nafter the battle of Mentana, and the Papal troops returned in triumph to\nthe city. While the children were in the Vatican, they assisted every\nmorning at the Pope\u2019s Mass, and received Holy Communion daily from\nhis hands. Every day, when he went to take his usual walk through the\ngalleries and corridors of the palace, he sent for the orphans, and by\nhis sweet and consoling conversation made them forget the anxiety which\ntortured them about their brothers. During those days--the happiest of\nher life--Maria Pia conceived a veneration and love for the Holy Father\nwhich she cherished ever afterwards, and which, we may here remark,\nwas characteristic of her mother, Maria Theresa. When the storm had\nblown over, the orphans returned to the Farnese Palace, and resumed\ntheir usually quiet and retired life. It did not last long. This time\nit was not the Garibaldian hordes that marched upon the city, but the\nwell-disciplined troops of a king who called himself \u201cthe dutiful son of\nPius IX.\u201d To be brief, the year 1870 was one of woe to the Romans, but\nto none was it more sorrowful than to the poor persecuted Bourbons. Once\nmore they were forced to fly, and in their flight the noble family was\nobliged to divide itself. Some of them fled into Bavaria, some to France,\nwhile Maria Immacolata went with her sister, now Duchess of Parma, into\nthe Tyrol, and afterwards to Cannes, on the confines of France. She was\naccompanied by her governess Maria Laserre, her faithful friend and\ncomforter in every trial.\n\nBut the cold climate of the mountains was too severe for Immacolata. She\nwas a frail, delicate flower, and under the rough, inclement blasts of\na northern winter she began to wilt away. What with her weak health and\nher strong affection for the Holy Father, she began to pine for Rome, her\ncountry, as she called it. All this passed within her own bosom. For the\nrest, she was patient, resigned, and more forgiving than ever towards\nthose who were the cause of her exile, first from the land of her birth,\nand afterwards from Rome, to which her heart clung most lovingly. A soul\nso closely united to God as was hers, soon found the wherewithal to\ncomfort her, and it was with a smile of heavenly joy in her countenance\nthat she brightened up and said to her maid, \u201cAh! well, there is one\nconsolation left me: the poor I have always with me.\u201d From her infancy\nshe had been noted for her charities. What little she possessed in\nchildhood she gave to the poor joyfully. When she grew up and received a\nmonthly allowance from her mother for ordinary expenses, she gave with\nsuch a liberal hand that her allowance used to be exhausted long before\nthe end of the month came. The Queen-Mother had become so accustomed to\nthe charitable prodigalities of her daughter that she used to say when\nshe would hear a modest knock at her door, about the 20th of each month,\n\u201cHere comes my little prodigal daughter; but, God bless her! she has not\nwasted her substance.\u201d When the Queen died, and Maria Immacolata came\ninto her inheritance, her charity was more a profusion than a giving; and\nit was remarked that no one knew anything of her charities. The gospel\ndirected her to give in secret, and the Holy Spirit assured her that the\n\u201cFather who seeth in secret\u201d would reward her. It was her chief delight,\nwhen she went out to take a walk, to gather the young people around her,\nand ask them the catechism, and teach them how to pray; and in order to\nstimulate them to study the catechism thoroughly, she would give them\nrosaries, medals, and pictures, which she had sent to her at regular\nintervals from Rome. Whenever she met any one who was on the way to the\nEternal City, she could not restrain her tears, as she thought of the\nhappiness which was denied to herself; and, she would often remark, \u201cIt\nis _so_ cold here, that not only the body, but the soul too shivers for\nthat warmth which can only be felt near the Vicar of Christ.\u201d\n\nAbout this time she became acquainted with Henry Bourbon, Count of Bardi,\nson of Charles III. of Parma, and nephew of the Count of Chambord. Her\nsister, Maria Pia, had already been married to Robert, Duke of Parma, and\nthe nuptial blessing was pronounced by the Holy Father, in the year 1869.\nAs her sister\u2019s marriage was one of Christian love, not of political\nor worldly interest, contracted under the influence of religion, and\nnot to keep up the \u201cequilibrium of relationship,\u201d as the saying is in\nEurope, so was the marriage of Immacolata with the Count of Bardi. Among\nother motives in favor of accepting his hand in marriage she was wont to\nadduce this one, that the fact of his having been educated in the college\nof the Jesuits at Feldkirch was an assurance to her that her marriage\nwould be a happy one. As she had prepared herself for the reception of\nher First Communion, so by recollection and spiritual exercises did\nshe dispose herself for the Sacrament of Matrimony, and on the 27th\nof November, 1873, she became the Countess of Bardi. The marriage was\na modest celebration throughout. The domestics of the family and the\npoor of the city were the only merrymakers. As for the young spouses,\nthey were destined only to drink the cup of tribulation. The lily of\nBourbon was fast drooping, the color was fading from her cheeks, and the\nunnatural brilliancy of her eyes told, more clearly than words could,\nthat Immacolata was not destined to live much longer. No one knew this\nbetter than herself. Still she was resolved to do her duty, as if she\nhad long years before her. She began by studying the character of her\nhusband. Prior to all, however, she had marked out for herself a simple\nline of conduct, which she couched in the two words, \u201caffectionate\nsubmission.\u201d In the heaven-given light of this resolution, she loved him,\nand by its influence and the discharge of all those kind and endearing\noffices which are the noble prerogatives of the gentler sex, she won his\nconfidence, and strengthened his affection, as with a wall of granite.\nHaving acquired a thorough knowledge of his character, she anticipated\nevery desire of his, and executed his every wish with such readiness that\nhe was afterwards known to say that he could not decide whose wish she\naccomplished, his or her own. In this way she obtained great influence\nover him, but she only exercised it in the things of God. Wherever she\nknelt down to pray, there he knelt at her side. When she was gone to her\nrest, he was heard to say of her, \u201cShe took me by the hand, and led me to\nGod.\u201d\n\nOn the day after their marriage the young spouses set out on a journey to\nEgypt. The voyage was long and ill-suited to her delicate constitution;\nbut she went cheerfully, thinking not of herself, but only how she might\nplease her consort. During the forty days they were sailing up the Nile,\nshe lay prostrate with a malignant fever, which, together with the\nravages of consumption, reduced her almost to the last extremity. It\nwas hoped that she would rally during their voyage in Upper Egypt, but\nin vain. When they arrived there, she became weaker and weaker, until,\nfinally, the most they hoped for was that she might live until their\nreturn to France. Setting sail from Cairo, they arrived at Marseilles in\nthe March of 1874, where she rallied at the sight of her sister, Maria\nPia, and her beloved governess, Maria Laserre, who had come to meet her.\nIn a consultation of her physicians, it was resolved to bring her to\nCauterets, a little village in the Upper Pyrenees, and celebrated for\nits sulphur baths. Maria Immacolata was delighted with the proposal,\nnot because she hoped for any relief from the waters of Cauterets, but\nbecause in their journey thither they would pass Lourdes, to which she\nhad long yearned to make a pilgrimage.\n\nAccordingly, they set out for Cauterets, stopping at Lourdes on the\nway. The weary invalid\u2019s heart throbbed with joy as she knelt for\nthe first time in the holy grotto. For two whole hours she remained\nabsorbed in silent prayer, giving no other sign of life than the long\nand affectionate gaze which she fixed upon the image of Our Lady. During\ntheir stay at Lourdes, she visited the grotto twice every day, and at\neach visit she prayed long and fervently. Twice she insisted on being\nimmersed in the water, notwithstanding it was exceedingly cold. On being\nasked what she prayed for, she replied, \u201cThat God\u2019s will be done.\u201d The\nwaters of Cauterets gave her no relief. The disease had taken deep root\nin her system, and was rapidly advancing to a fatal termination. An\neminent physician was called from the city of Pau, who gave it as his\nopinion that it was useless to hope for her recovery. She might live for\nfifteen days more, and possibly might linger on for a month. The young\ncount thought no longer of the great loss he was about to suffer, but\nonly how he might make the remaining days of her short life as quiet and\ndevoid of pain as possible. It was resolved to bring her to Pau, the\nprincipal city of the Lower Pyrenees, where she would receive better\nattendance, and, above all, have the consolations of her religion. As\nthey carried her on a species of litter from the hotel to the carriage,\nshe said to her husband, \u201cNot long ago I could move about with ease;\nafterwards they carried me in an arm-chair; now it is a litter; the next\nwill be a bier.\u201d Her sufferings on the road between Lourdes and Pau\nwere very great, but she bore them cheerfully, and only prayed that they\nwould let her die in Pau. After their arrival in that city, she rallied a\nlittle, and her husband tried to raise her hopes by saying that she would\nrecover. \u201cDo not be deceived, dear Henry,\u201d she said; \u201cbefore another\nmonth passes away I shall be gone. Bring me a confessor.\u201d One of the\nJesuit fathers came immediately, and her first prayer was that they would\nerect an altar in her room at which Mass might be said on the following\nday. Meanwhile, she prepared to make a general confession of her whole\nlife, and begged every one in the house to pray for her. Her first care\nwas to fulfil a number of promises which she had made to the Madonna, and\ncalling her husband to her bedside, she begged of him to make them good.\nHer jewels, wedding-dress, and crown had already been promised to Our\nLady of Issoudun. After her death, the Duke of Parma and the Duchess, her\nsister, repaired to that sanctuary and made the offering. She had also\nvowed a silver heart to Our Lady of Einsiedeln, and a set of vestments to\nOur Lady of Lourdes. She had begun to embroider the chasuble herself, but\nwas obliged from sheer weakness to lay it aside. She begged her sister to\nfinish it, and carry it in her name to the holy grotto. In addition to\nthese, she had also vowed to have two hundred Masses celebrated for the\nsuffering souls in purgatory. Opening her purse to fulfil this promise,\nshe found it empty. Indeed, that was its normal condition, and it was\nsaid of her that a heavy purse never wore a hole in her pocket. She asked\nher husband, with child-like simplicity, to give her six hundred francs,\nand having received them, ordered the sum to be distributed among the\nchurches in the city according to her intention. On the following day,\nthe 20th of August, she confessed and received Holy Communion with\nedifying fervor. Her only desire now was to remain quiet, that she\nmight commune with God and prepare for her final departure. On the day\nmentioned, she was visited by Margherita, the wife of Don Carlos. But the\ndying princess turned her eyes lovingly on the visitor and said, \u201cPardon\nme, Margherita, but I must be alone with God.\u201d The Princess Maria Pia\nand her governess remained by her bedside constantly, and prayed aloud\nwith her. When her confessor entered the room she would say to him, \u201cMust\nI live many days longer? Pray God not to tarry.\u201d Then she would chide\nherself for a want of resignation, and say, \u201cAs thou wilt!\u201d\n\nIt was no difficult task for one whose heart was detached from the things\nof this world to make a will, and that of the Princess Immacolata of\nBourbon did not give her much anxiety. Still, she observed the legal\nformalities, and showed such clearness and precision in her dictation\nto the notary as surprised all present. With the exception of that\npart of the will which affects her natural heirs, the rest is but one\nlong series of donations for religious purposes--foreign missions,\nreligious houses, orphanages, and the like. She was not content with\nmaking a handsome provision for each of her domestics, but even made\nappropriations for their relatives. The poor are called in the will\n\u201cmy dearest heirs,\u201d and to these, she left the sum of 20,000 francs in\ngold, the distribution of which she entrusted to her governess, Maria\nLaserre, begging her especially not to forget the poor families she\nknew in Rome, and elsewhere, during her wanderings. In short, after\ndisposing of the enormous sum of 107,000 francs in gold, to be bestowed\nin Christian charity, this generous soul concludes her will in these\nterms: \u201cI intend, moreover, that what remains, over and above, of my\ncapital be all expended in purchasing sacred vessels and vestments for\npoor churches.\u201d This last provision has already passed into effect, to\nour personal knowledge. Among the many charitable institutions which\nRome possesses there is one whose members devote themselves especially\nto making vestments and procuring sacred vessels for poor churches. We\nknow of one, composed of some eminent French ladies, who make it their\nduty to provide for the poor churches of Italy; only a short time ago,\nthey exhibited a splendid assortment of vestments and church furniture,\nmostly all purchased on the strength of the donation of Maria Immacolata\nof Bourbon.\n\nAnd now, having removed every earthly care from her mind, Maria\nImmacolata disposed herself to receive the Sacrament of Extreme Unction.\nShe begged her confessor to read aloud from some ascetic work, that her\nsoul might be drawn more closely to God. When he had read for awhile, she\nsaid, \u201cNow I am ready,\u201d and in the presence of her brother the Count of\nBari, her sister the Duchess of Parma, the Princess Margherita, wife of\nDon Carlos, and her beloved governess, she received the last sacrament.\nIt was then that her confessor informed her that the following day,\nAugust 23d, was the Feast of the Immaculate Heart of Mary, whereat she\nbesought all present to pray that she might obtain the singular favor\nfrom God of dying on that day and of receiving the Holy Eucharist once\nmore; and with the holy simplicity and fervor of her childhood, she\nrecited aloud the following prayer: \u201cMost Holy Virgin, I resign myself\nto suffer still more for your honor, and the glory of your divine Son.\nO my Mother! you who have permitted your daughter to bear your own\nsweet name of Immacolata, obtain for me the grace to receive once more\nthe most Sacred Body of your divine Son, and to die on the Feast of\nyour Immaculate Heart.\u201d Both favors were granted. On the following day,\nMass was celebrated in her room, and she received her Lord for the last\ntime. Her husband also, her brother Count of Bari, the Duke and Duchess\nof Parma, the Princess Margherita, and all her maids and domestics,\ncommunicated. It was a touching scene that transpired after Mass, when\nthe whole household gathered around the bed of the dying princess, and\nasked her blessing. A smile of angelic delight mantled her face, and, as\nshe said herself, her soul seemed to be inundated with consolation. She\nno longer felt the oppression and pain which had tortured her an hour\nprevious. Her sister Maria Pia, desirous of having a precious remembrance\nin after-life, held her own photograph to her lips, that she might\nimprint a kiss upon it. When she had kissed it, she asked for a pen, and\nwrote upon the card, in a trembling hand, \u201cLiving or dead, I shall always\nbe near thee. Thy own Maria Immacolata\u201d; and on the photograph which her\ngoverness presented to her, she wrote, \u201cIn heaven and on earth I shall\nnever have but one heart with you. Your little Mistress.\u201d\n\nCalling every one of her domestics to the bedside, she gave each a\nsouvenir of herself, accompanied with a few words of wise counsel.\nTurning then to the princes her brothers, her sister, and her\nbrother-in-law, she besought them to live together in harmony, and\nto love one another for her sake. She then asked for her jewels, and\nchoosing a ring, she put it on the finger of Margherita of Spain; another\nprecious ring she put on the finger of her sister, and a third upon that\nof her governess. While doing this, she asked them to pray that she might\nbe pardoned for the vanity of wearing those ornaments. She asked pardon\nthree successive times of her maid, Maria Grazia, for all the annoyance\nshe had ever given her, and taking another ring from her own finger, she\nheld it out saying, \u201cThis is for your sister Francesca in Naples, of whom\nI ask pardon from afar.\u201d But the Duchess of Parma had still one favor to\nask--a blessing for her four little children in the Castle of Wartegg,\nin Switzerland. The dying sister answered, \u201cYes, I will pray for them\nin heaven,\u201d and pronouncing the name of each she kissed the Crucifix and\nblessed them. The apostolic Benediction of His Holiness had already been\nsent to her, and now a second arrived, and with it the plenary indulgence\n_in the hour of death_. This was followed by a despatch from the Comte\nde Chambord which said, \u201cWe are in great affliction, and are praying.\u201d\nWhile all this was passing, her eyes rested upon the form of her husband,\nwho knelt by her side. But recollecting herself, she said, \u201cMy Madonna\nfor Mademoiselle\u201d--meaning her governess. \u201cNow,\u201d said she, \u201cI have naught\nto give away but my soul, and that I give to God.\u201d Turning to her young\nhusband, she said, \u201cHenry! O my Henry! I leave thee, to go where I am\ncalled by that God who made us companions for a few short months on\nearth; but I leave thee in good hands\u201d; and holding in her right hand the\ncrucifix and her rosary, and inclining her head towards a statue of the\nBlessed Virgin, as if saluting her, and recommending to her care him who\nknelt there in sorrow, she died.\n\n\nNOTRE DAME DE LOURDES.\n\n    \u201cTHOU WEL OF MERCY, SINFUL SOULES CURE.\u201d--CHAUCER.\n\nLourdes, apart from any religious interest, is well worth a visit, for it\nis an old historic place. \u201cBigerronum arx antiqua fuit Luparda, qu\u00e6 nunc\nLourda est,\u201d says Julius Scaliger. It is associated with the Romans, the\nMoors, the paladins of Charlemagne, and the flower of French and English\nchivalry, and is celebrated by Gregory of Tours, Froissart, Monstrelet,\nand all the ancient chroniclers of the land. Situated at the entrance\nof the seven valleys of the Lavedan on the one side, and the rich sunny\nplains of B\u00e9arn on the other, under a sky as soft and bright as that of\nItaly, it is as attractive to the eye of the tourist as to the soul of\nthe arch\u00e6ologist and the pilgrim.\n\nWe arrived at Lourdes in less than an hour after leaving Tarbes. The\nstation is some distance from town, and at least a mile from the\nworld-famous grotto; but there are always hacks and omnibuses eager to\ntake the visitor to one of the numerous hotels. The depot is encumbered\nwith luggage and crowded with pilgrims going and coming, and on the side\ntracks are long trains of empty cars that tell of the importance of the\nstation--an importance solely due to the immense number of pilgrims, who\nsometimes amount to five hundred thousand a year.\n\nOn leaving the station, one naturally looks around to discover the\nrenowned sanctuary of Notre Dame de Lourdes, but not a glimpse of it is\nto be seen. Nothing meets the eye but a gray picturesque town shut in\nby the outlying Pyrenees. Nothing could be lovelier than the fresh green\nvalley in which it stands, framed by hills whose sides are blackened with\n_d\u00e9bris_ from the immense quarries of slate. It is only a pleasant walk\nto the town in good weather, which gives one an opportunity of taking in\nthe features of the charming landscape. Flowers bloom in the hedge-rows,\nelms and ash-trees dot the grassy meadows, the hillsides beneath the\nquarries are luxuriant with vineyards and fields of waving grain. The way\nis lively with hurrying pilgrims, all intent on their own business and\nregardless of you; some saying their rosaries, others in a band singing\nsome pious hymn, and many solitary ones absorbed in their own reflections.\n\nWe soon reach the town. The houses are of stone with slated roofs.\nNearly every one is a hotel, or a lodging-house, or a shop for the sale\nof religious objects. The windows are full of rosaries, medallions\ninscribed with the words of the Virgin to Bernadette, miniature grottos,\nphotographs--in short, everything that can recall the wonderful history\nof the grotto of Massabielle. The very silk kerchiefs in the windows,\nsuch as the peasants wear on their heads, are stamped with the Virgin\nin her niche. The old part of the town has narrow streets, without\nany sidewalks, paved with cobble-stones quite in harmony with the\npenitential spirit of a true pilgrim. They are mere lanes, fearful in\nmuddy weather when crowded with people in danger at every step from the\ncarriages.\n\nThe Hotel de la Grotte is the nearest to the church of Notre Dame de\nLourdes, and very pleasantly situated at a convenient walking distance\nfrom it. At one of our visits to the place, we stopped at the Hotel des\nPyr\u00e9n\u00e9es in the heart of the town, where we were made very comfortable;\nbut the second time, it was in the height of the season, and there was\nnot a room to be had in any of the hotels, and had we not providentially\nstumbled on a friend with a vacant room at his command, we might have\nbeen forced to spend the night in the church--no great penance, to be\nsure, in so heavenly a place, where Masses begin at midnight and do not\ncease till afternoon. The only safe way is to secure rooms beforehand,\nespecially when the place is most frequented.\n\nLourdes is a small town of about five thousand inhabitants, mostly\nworkers in marble, slate, etc., that is, those who do not keep a\nhotel, or a _caf\u00e9_, or a shop of some kind; for the good people seem\nquite ready to avail themselves of every opportunity of benefiting by\nthe piety that brings so many strangers among them. They are shrewd,\nquick-witted, upright, and kind-hearted; attached to their ancient\ntraditions, and firm in their faith as their rock-built houses. They\nhave always been characterized by their devotion to the Blessed Virgin.\nFive of the chapels in the parish church are dedicated to her honor.\nThe confraternities of the Scapular and the Rosary are flourishing, and\nthe congregation of the Enfants de Marie is one of the oldest in the\ncountry. The dark-eyed women of Lourdes have a Spanish look, and are\nquite picturesque in their scarlet capulets or black capuchins, but the\nmen have mostly laid aside the Bigorrais cloak, once so sought after\nthat they were exported from the country, and mentioned by learned men.\nPope Gregory I., in a letter to Eulogius, Bishop of Alexandria, thus\nalludes to them: \u201cSex minora Aquitanica pallia.\u201d S. Paulinus of Nola, in\na letter to Ausonius, says: \u201cDignaque pellitis habitas deserta Bigerris.\u201d\n\u201cBigerricam vestem, brevem atque hispidam,\u201d says Sulpicius Severus. And\nthe poet Fortunatus, in his life of S. Martin, says: \u201cInduitur sanctus\nhirsuta Bigerrica palla.\u201d\n\nThese _Marlottes_, as Scaliger calls them, are now mostly confined to\nthe mountaineers who cling to the old ways. The people of the valley,\nhowever, have not laid aside all their old prejudices with their cloaks.\nThe natives of Lourdes are said to hold in proud disdain those who have\nhad the disadvantage of being born elsewhere, in proof of which it is\nrelated that a prisoner of state, named Souli\u00e9, once confined in the\ncastle for some offence, at last died from the effects of his captivity.\nHis fellow-prisoners, desirous of showing him suitable honor, as well\nas giving proper expression to their own regret, paid the bell-ringer\nto toll a bell of the second class. It appears there were four bells in\nuse for funerals; the first for the clergy; the second, for the grandees\nof the place; the third, for the common citizen, and the fourth for the\npoor. The inhabitants were so enraged that such an honor as a bell of\nthe second class should be rung for a stranger, that they condemned the\nguilty sexton to prison. During his long confinement, he was frequently\nheard exclaiming with a groan: \u201cAh! detestable _Souli\u00e9_! Had it only been\na _savate_,[157] I should not be here!\u201d\n\nThis is a mere reminiscence of their ancient glory. It is always\ndifficult to bring one\u2019s self to the level of fallen fortunes. The title\nof stranger is still said to be an original stain that nothing can ever\nefface. Small and unpretending as Lourdes may now seem, it has its grand\nold memories. Its origin is lost in the obscurity of remote ages, but\nwhere history is at fault, fable generally comes to the rescue.\n\nThe glory of founding Lourdes is attributed to an Ethiopian princess.\nTarbis, queen of Ethiopia, captivated by the valor and personal\nattractions of Moses, offered him her throne and hand. Wounded and\nmortified at his refusal, she abandoned her country to hide her\ndisappointment in the obscurity of the Pyrenean valleys. She founded the\ncity of Tarbes, and her sister Lorda that of Lourdes.\n\nIn the Middle Ages the Counts of Bigorre were the Seigneurs of Lourdes,\nand, like S. Louis under the oak of Vincennes, they seated themselves\nwith patriarchal simplicity on a stone bench under an elm before the\nchurch to receive the homage of their vassals. Notre Dame de Bigorre! was\nthen the battle-cry of the people. Then, as now, Mary was the Sovereign\nLady of the valley. To her its lords acknowledged themselves vassals\nand paid tribute, and the arms of the town commemorate her miraculous\nintervention to deliver it from the hands of the Moors. But as this\nlegend is connected with the history of the castle, we will give a brief\nsketch of that once strong hold.\n\nThe tourist, on his way to Pau, Cauter\u00e9ts, St. Sauveur, or Bagn\u00e8res, as\nhe traverses the plateau which overlooks the fertile valley of the Gave,\nsees an ancient fortress on the top of an inaccessible cliff, that rises\nstraight up from the banks of the river. This is the old citadel of\nLourdes, the key of the Seven Valleys, the stronghold of the Counts of\nBigorre in the Middle Ages. The eye of the traveller cannot fail to be\nstruck by the antiquity of its gray battlements, crenellated towers, and\npicturesque situation, and he at once feels it has a marvellous history.\n\nThe castle of Lourdes is more than two thousand years old. Here the\nancient inhabitants long held out against the attacks of the Romans;\nand here, when they were forced to yield, their conquerors built the\nfortifications whose indestructible foundation ages have passed over\nwithout leaving any trace. Several centuries later, the castle of\nMirambel, as it was then called, was held by the Moors, and their leader,\nMirat, defended it for a time against the hosts of Charlemagne, and\nat length, too haughty to yield to any earthly power, surrendered to\nthe Queen of Heaven, who wrought such a miracle of grace on the proud\npainim\u2019s heart that he and all his followers went with garlands of hay on\ntheir lances to swear fealty to Notre Dame de Puy, and resign all right\nto Mirambel. Mirat was baptized by the name of Lorus. He received the\nhonors of knighthood, and gave the name of Lordum to the castle he now\nheld in the name of the Virgin.\n\nWe are indebted to an English monk, named Marfin, for this legend,\nand though rejected by many, it was doubtless founded on the popular\ntraditions of the country, which alone account for the arms of the town\nand the annual tribute the Counts of Bigorre paid to Notre Dame de Puy as\nlong as they held possession of the castle.[158]\n\n_Lo ric castel de Lorda_ having been taken possession of by the\nAlbigenses in the XIIth century, the celebrated Simon de Montfort\nbesieged it, but in vain. The castle remained in their hands till the end\nof the war.\n\nNo one of English origin can look at the hoary walls of this ancient\nfortress without the greatest interest, for it is associated with the\nmemory of the Black Prince, and the time was when the banner of England\nfloated from its towers and defied the efforts of the bravest knights of\nFrance to tear it from its hold.\n\nLourdes, as well as the whole province of Bigorre (which lay between\nB\u00e9arn and Foix), fell into the hands of the English by the treaty of\nBretagne, and constituted a part of the Duchy of Aquitaine, which Edward\nIII. conferred on his son, the Black Prince, who left England to take\npossession of his domains in 1363. He made Bordeaux his capital, and\nthere, in the church of S. Andr\u00e9, Jehan Caubot, consul of Lourdes, and\nthe representatives of Tarbes and other towns, presented themselves at\nhigh noon before the most noble and puissant Lord Edward, Prince of Wales\nand Duke of Aquitaine, and, in the presence of many lords, knights, and\ncitizens, swore fealty to the English prince, beseeching him to confirm\nthe rights and franchises which they had hitherto enjoyed, which he\nsolemnly promised.\n\nThe Count of Armagnac (John I.) gave so captivating a description of\nthe beauty of Bigorre that the Black Prince was induced to visit his\nmountain province. He remained for some time at Tarbes, and while there\nexplored the neighboring valleys, strengthened old fortresses and built\nseveral new ones. He was particularly struck with the castle of Lourdes,\nand the advantage of holding such a position. \u201cIt is the key of many\ncountries,\u201d said he, \u201cby which I can find my way into Aragon, Catalonia,\nand Barcelona.\u201d He strengthened its fortifications, and entrusted the\ncommand to Pierre Arnaud of B\u00e9arn, a cousin of Gaston Ph\u0153bus of Foix,\nsaying: \u201cMaster Arnaud, I constitute and appoint you captain of Lourdes,\nand warden of Bigorre. See that you hold them, and render a good account\nof your trust to me and my father.\u201d\n\nArnaud swore fealty to the Prince, who soon after broke up his court\nat Tarbes and returned to Bordeaux. He could not have left a better\ncommander at Lourdes. Arnaud was one of those men who would rather face\ndeath a thousand times than be untrue to their word. He held the castle\nlong after all the rest of Bigorre had been wrested from the English,\nand the exploits of the brave knights that took refuge here made it\nthe terror of the surrounding country. Froissart\u2019s account of their\nadventures is more like that of highwaymen than of chivalrous knights.\nThey were continually coming down from their eyry at the head of a band,\nto scour the country and plunder all they could lay their hands upon.\nSometimes they extended their ravages to Toulouse, Alby, and Carcassone,\ntaking castles, robbing merchants and attacking knights, and then rushing\nback to Lourdes with their booty--cattle, provisions, prisoners they\ncould ransom, etc. They only respected the rights of Gaston Ph\u0153bus, their\ncaptain\u2019s kinsman.\n\nIt is related of Mongat that on one occasion he put on the habit of a\nmonk, and with three of his men similarly attired, he took his way with\ndevout air and mien to Montpellier, where he alighted at the Angel and\ngave out he was a lord abbot from Upper Gascony on his way to Paris on\nbusiness. Here he made the acquaintance of the Sire Berenger, who was\nlikewise going to Paris on some affair of importance, and was delighted\nto be thrown into such holy company. The pretended abbot led him by\ndevious ways to Lourdes, where he ransomed him for a large sum.\n\nIn one of his adventures, Mongat came to his end. He had been to Toulouse\nwith two other knights and one hundred and twenty lances, and on their\nway back with cattle, hogs, sheep, and prisoners, they were attacked by\ntwo hundred knights, with the brave Ernauton Bissette at their head, in\na forest belonging to the Sire de Barbazan. The fury with which they\nfought was only equalled by their knightly courtesy. When exhausted,\nthey took off their helmets, refreshed themselves at a stream, and then\nresumed the contest. Mongat and Ernauton fought hand to hand the whole\nday, and at length, utterly exhausted, they both fell dead on the field.\nHostilities then ceased. Each party bore away its dead, and a cross was\nraised on the spot where they fell.\n\nOf course the whole country around was eager to dislodge the English\nfrom their fortress. The Duke of Anjou, with the celebrated Du Guesclin,\nattacked it at the head of fifteen thousand of the best soldiers of\nFrance. All the other castles of Bigorre had been taken. Tarbes had been\nreadily given up by the captain who had sworn to defend it. Mauvezin had\ngallantly held out for a time, and then honorably surrendered. Lourdes\nalone bade defiance to the enemy. The town, built on a slope at the east\nof the castle, resisted the duke\u2019s army a fortnight. The inhabitants\nfinally took refuge in the castle, and the French took possession of the\nempty houses, with great rejoicing. For six weeks they laid siege to the\ncastle, but in vain. The duke now sought to obtain it by bribing Arnaud\nwith vast sums of money, but the incorruptible captain replied:\n\n\u201cThe fortress is not mine. It is the property of the King of England,\nand I cannot sell, alienate, or give it up, without proving myself a\ntraitor, which I will not. I will remain loyal to my liege lord on whose\nhand I swore by my faith, when he appointed me governor of this castle,\nto defend it against all men, and to yield it to no one whom he had not\nauthorized to demand it, and Pierre Arnaud will keep to his trust till he\ndies.\u201d\n\nDiscouraged and mortified, the duke raised the siege and set fire to\nthe four quarters of the town, which was wholly consumed, with all the\ntitles of the ancient _fors_ and rights. He now determined to obtain the\ncastle by some other means, and despatched a messenger to Gaston Ph\u0153bus\nto convince him it was for his interest to use his influence in driving\nthe English from Lourdes. The count promised to do so and invited Arnaud\nto Orthez. Somewhat suspicious of his intentions, Arnaud, before leaving\nLourdes, appointed his brother John commander of the fortress, making\nhim swear by his faith and honor as a knight to guard it as faithfully\nas he had done himself, and never to yield it to any one but him who had\nentrusted it to their care.\n\nJohn solemnly swore as he was desired, and his brother proceeded to\nOrthez, where he was graciously received by the Count of Foix. It was not\ntill the third day he was summoned to give up the castle. Arnaud at once\ncomprehended the danger of his situation, but undauntedly replied: \u201cMy\nlord, I doubtless owe you duty and regard, for I am a poor knight of your\nland and race, but the castle of Lourdes I cannot surrender. You have\nsent for me and can do with me whatever you please, but what I hold from\nthe King of England, I will surrender to no one but him.\u201d\n\n\u201cHa, traitor!\u201d cried the count in a rage, drawing his dagger, \u201cdo you\ntell me you will not do it? By my head, you shall pay for such a speech\u201d;\nand he stabbed him to the heart.\n\nArnaud cried: \u201cAh! my lord, you act not as beseemeth gentle knight. You\ninvited me here and it is thus you put me to death.\u201d\n\nThis base act did no good. John was as faithful to his trust as\nhis brother Arnaud. His appointment was confirmed by the King of\nEngland,[159] and the English flag was not taken down till the year 1425,\nwhen the citadel of Lourdes surrendered to John of Foix, the companion\nin arms of Dunois the brave, and the illustrious Barbazan, first to be\nstyled _Sans peur et sans reproche_. Then the war-cry, \u201cS. George for\nLourdes!\u201d was heard for the last time in the land, and the red flag of\nEngland taken down for ever.\n\nLourdes was attacked by the Huguenots in 1573. The town was taken by\nassault, pillaged, and partly burned, but they made no impression on the\ncastle. A cry of alarm, however, resounded all through the Seven Valleys.\nThe mountaineers of Lavedan knew the importance of the castle, which,\nonce taken, would expose them to an invasion it would be impossible to\nresist, and they seized their arms and gathered under the banners of the\nlords of Vieuzac and Arras to defend the entrance to their valleys. The\nHuguenots, astonished at their determined resistance, were obliged to\nretreat to B\u00e9arn.\n\nThe union of Bigorre with the crown of France by Henry IV. was favorable\nto the prosperity and happiness of Lourdes, but fatal to the military\nimportance of the castle. After being for ages the chief defence of the\nland, it now became the most unimportant fortress in the country.\n\nIn the XVIIIth century it was made the Bastile of the Pyrenees--a prison\n\u201ccreated by despotism on the frontiers of liberty\u201d--and was called the\nRoyal Prison of Lourdes. Here, as the Comte de Marcellus says:\n\n    \u201cDans d\u2019effroyables cachots,\n    Entour\u00e9 d\u2019\u00e9paisses t\u00e9n\u00e8bres,\n    Plus d\u2019un captif, couch\u00e9 sous des vo\u00fbtes fun\u00e8bres,\n    Attendrissait leurs lugubres \u00e9chos\n    Par ses g\u00e9missements, ses pleurs et ses sanglots.\n    \u2026\n    Sous ses sombres donjons, l\u2019\u0153il, d\u2019abime en abime,\n    Voit le Gave rouler et bondir furieux;\n    Et les monts h\u00e9riss\u00e9s qui portent jusqu\u2019 aux cieux\n    De leurs rocs d\u00e9charn\u00e9s l\u2019inaccessible cime,\n    Redoublent la tristesse et l\u2019horreur de ces lieux.\u201d\n\nP\u00e8re Lacombe, the spiritual director, or rather disciple, of the famous\nMme. Guyon, was confined in the castle of Lourdes in 1687. The see of\nTarbes was vacant at the time, but when a bishop was appointed, in 1695,\nhe obtained the deliverance of the poor prisoner, who did not, however,\nenjoy his liberty long. His mind became so affected that he was again\nconfined at Charenton, where he died.\n\nIn the time of Napoleon I., Lord Elgin, the famous spoliator of the\nParthenon, on his way back from Constantinople, came for the recovery\nof his health to the springs of Barr\u00e8ges, where he was arrested by the\ngovernment and brought to the castle of Lourdes. He characteristically\nprofited by his confinement here to strip the fortress of all the\nantiquities he could secure, and carry them off to his residence in\nFifeshire.\n\nThe castle ceased to be a prison at the restoration of the monarchy.\nIt is now a military post, and accessible to the tourist, who enters\na postern gate at the east, and ascends the cliff by a winding stone\nstaircase, at the top of which he comes out on a court with a clump of\ntrees and a few flowers, guarded by a sentinel ferocious-looking enough\nto strike terror into the heart of the fearless Barbazan himself, but\nwhom we found to be the mildest of warriors, and the most accommodating\nof guides around the old _ch\u00e2teau-fort_. Unless you looked at him, you\nwould never have supposed him brought up on the marrow of lions!\n\nFrom the battlements there is a magnificent view of the valley of the\nGave. Never was fairer picture framed among majestic mountains. The\nriver flows directly beneath, through a meadow of wonderful freshness.\nOn the right bank stands the spacious monasteries of Mt. Carmel and S.\nBenedict, not yet completed, and the other side, directly in front of the\ncastle, rises the new fortress of Our Lady of Lourdes--stronghold of the\nfaith--where the whole world comes, like the ancient Barons of Bigorre,\nto pay tribute to Mary. It is high time to turn our steps thither.\n\nLeaving the town of Lourdes by a narrow street to the west, we come out\ninto the open valley in full view of the Gave--a clear, broad stream, fed\nby mountain torrents, which rushes impetuously over a rocky bed towards\nthe Adour and the ocean. It comes from the south, but here turns abruptly\naway from the cliff--that rises straight up from its banks to the height\nof three hundred feet, crowned with its old historic castle--and flows to\nthe west. In this sharp bend of the river is the cliff of Massabielle,\nfrom the side of which rises before us into the clear blue heavens a tall\nspire with a golden cross. It is the celebrated church of Notre Dame\nde Lourdes, a pure white edifice worthy of the spotless Virgin whose\nimmaculate purity it commemorates--the object of so many vows, the spot\nto which so many hearts are turned, and so many feet are wending, from\nevery part of the Christian world.\n\nThe road between the town and church is bordered by small booths for the\nsale of rosaries, medals, and every conceivable object of devotion,\nincluding pilgrims\u2019 staves and scallop shells, and stacks of tall candles\nto burn before Our Lady of Lourdes. There are over two hundred of these\nlittle shops, altogether too many for the place, though there is a pretty\nbrisk trade during the season of pilgrimages. At every step you are\ncalled upon to buy, just as at Loretto, the owner advertising his wares\nwith the volubility and something of the style of the London apprentices\nin the time of Lord Nigel. Crossing the bridge, we stop to look down\ninto the clear, green, turbulent waters of the Gave. The mountaineers\nsay reproachfully to their troublesome wives: \u201cMaridat lou Gab\u00e9, que\nstar\u00e9\u201d--Marry the Gave, and it will remain quiet. However refractory this\nvirgin stream may be, the valley is peaceful enough to bring the heart\nand soul into harmony with the place we are approaching. All along the\nwayside are the blind and the lame in every stage of horrible infirmity,\nappealing to the charity of the passers-by in the name of the _Sainte\nVierge_ of Lourdes, which no one can resist in the very sight of her\naltar, and we stop every now and then to buy, in this way, \u201ca pennyworth\nof paradise,\u201d like the prudent M. G\u00e9borand, of _miser_able memory. We\npick our way along through the crowds of pilgrims, going and coming with\narms full of tapers and great wooden rosaries, and a bleeding heart upon\ntheir breasts, like a decoration. We are thrust aside by a procession\nhurrying off to the station, joyously singing some song of praise,\nand we turn for a moment into a soft green meadow on the banks of the\nriver, with pleasant winding paths among umbrageous trees, leading to an\nimmense ring with rustic roof and open sides, provided with seats and\ntables of beautiful Pyrenean marble--where pilgrims can rest and take\ntheir lunch--the gift of M. Henri Lasserre, the author of \u201cOur Lady of\nLourdes,\u201d so admirably translated for THE CATHOLIC WORLD. At one end of\nthe meadow is a pretty _ch\u00e2let_ given the Bishop of Tarbes by some pious\nindividual for his residence when he comes to Lourdes. Turning into the\nroad again, we come to a fork--one path leading up over the cliff to the\nchurch, and the other along the shore of the river beneath. Taking the\nlatter, we find a chain stretched across the way, beyond which no vender\nof holy wares can go, or carriage pass. We keep on beneath the cliff of\nMassabielle, crowned with its fair white church far above our heads. The\nfew rods that separate it from the Gave is crowded with people. We hurry\non. A slight turn brings us suddenly before the Grotto of the Apparition,\ntowards, which every eye is turned.\u2026\n\n                \u201cO Light Divine!\n    Thy Presence and thy power were here.\u201d\n\nNo words can express the emotions of the heart at the very sight of this\nplace of benediction. You at once feel it has some mysterious connection\nwith the unseen world. A thousand memories of its history, its eighteen\napparitions, its countless miracles, come over you. You forget the crowd\naround you. Like the rest, you kneel on the pavement to adore and pray.\u2026\n\nThe grotto has wisely been left to nature. It stands open, facing the\nGave, tapestried with ivy, and rosebushes, and pretty ferns that grow in\nthe clefts of the rocks. The birds that build their nests among the vines\nundisturbed are flying to and fro, their songs filling the air above the\nhushed crowd. On one side of the grotto in a small niche--the very place\nwhere Bernadette beheld the Marvellous Vision--is a statue of the Virgin\nof pure white Carrara marble, standing with folded hands, palm to palm,\nand uplifted eyes. A blue girdle is tied around the waist, a crystal\nrosary hangs from her arm, and JE SUIS L\u2019IMMACUL\u00c9E CONCEPTION, in silver\nletters, form a glory around her head.\n\nThe grotto is all aflame with an immense pyramidal stand of tapers.\nEnormous wax candles, several inches in circumference, burn on the\npavement among pots of lilies. The sides of the cave are hung with\ninnumerable crutches, canes, shoes, models of hands and arms, etc., etc.,\nin pious commemoration of the wonderful cures wrought here. The pavement\nis strewn with bouquets of beautiful flowers and more practical offerings\nin the form of money, voluntarily thrown in to aid in the construction of\nthe church. Letters peep out of the clefts of the rocks, each with its\ntale of suffering, its prayer for aid.\n\nOf course every pilgrim wishes to enter the grotto, examine it, touch it\nwith his hands, and kiss it with profound respect. He wishes to pluck a\nbranch from the vine around the niche of the Virgin, and even appropriate\na fragment of the walls. The necessity will at once be seen of placing\nsome bounds to the manifestations of a piety praiseworthy in its nature,\nbut serious in its results. To protect the grotto, therefore, a solid\niron grating bars the entrance, but allows a clear view of the interior.\nIt is unlocked from time to time to admit a knot of pilgrims, so all can\nhave an opportunity of praying in so sacred a place. Before the grating\nkneel countless pilgrims in the open air, on the cold pavement which\nextends to the very edge of the Gave, thrust back from its course to\ngive additional space. There are a few benches for the weary and infirm.\nThe different classes of people gathered here, the variety of costumes\nworn by peasants from different provinces, and the clergy and sisters of\nvarious orders, to say nothing of the fashionable dresses of the upper\nclasses, are a study for the artist who has set up an easel before the\nstone bench along the banks of the river. Beyond is a long avenue of\ntrees furnished with seats where pilgrims are gathered in knots around\nhuge lunch-baskets. At the left of the grotto are several faucets over a\nlong stone basin, fed by water from the miraculous fountain. Over them\nis the inscription: \u201c_Allez boire \u00e0 la fontaine et vous laver._\u201d Around\nare crowded people drinking the healing waters, or filling their cans\nand bottles to carry away. Close by is a room furnished with cans of all\ndimensions for the accommodation of the pilgrim. Beyond are the bathing\nrooms, to so many a pool of Siloam where the angel is never weary of\ntroubling the waters. Around these doors of hope is always a sad array of\nthe blind, the deaf, the lame, and the paralytic.\n\nNo wonder miracles are wrought here. There is such simple, unbounded\nfaith in the divine mercy and power, that mountains might be moved.\nWhat would be marvellous elsewhere, only seems the natural order of\nthings here. Dr. Dozous, a physician of the place--who often accompanied\nBernadette in her visits to the grotto, and has watched with interest\nthe gradual development of the devotion to Notre Dame de Lourdes; and\nwitnessed a great number of miracles of all kinds, including the cure of\nthose who had been blind, or deaf and dumb, from their birth--says, in a\nbook he has recently published:\n\n\u201cThe cures of which I have so often been the ocular witness, and which I\nam about to relate, have convinced me, beyond the possibility of doubt,\nof the importance of Bernadette\u2019s visits to the grotto of Massabielle,\nand the reality of the visions she was there favored with.\u201d\n\nM. Artus, an Alsace refugee at Bordeaux, whose niece had been\nmiraculously cured of a serious malady by recourse to Notre Dame de\nLourdes, has offered ten thousand francs to any one who will prove the\nfalseness of any of the statements in M. Lasserre\u2019s book, but, though two\nyears have since passed, no one has been found quite ready to take up the\noffer.\n\nMiracles are so constantly wrought here, that not half of them are\nrecorded. Five occurred the day before our arrival, one, a deaf-mute to\nwhom the faculty of speech was instantaneously given. We dared not hope\nto witness anything of the kind, nor did we need it to increase our faith\nin the power of Omnipotence, though human nature is always seeking some\nsign. But the piety of the multitude around obtained the grace we should\nnot have ventured to ask for ourselves. We were praying one morning in\nthe grotto, when suddenly there was an unusual movement in the crowd\nwithout, and an increasing wave-like murmur that broke at last into a\ntumultuous shout. A gentleman beside us seemed to catch the meaning,\nfor he sprang up and exclaimed at the top of his voice, _Vive Marie!_\nwhich was answered by hundreds of voices. The effect was electrical,\nand the feeling that came over us was something new in our experience.\nTears sprang to the eye. We hurried out of the grotto, and the movement\nof the crowd brought us close to a young girl raised above the excited\nmultitude, pale, smiling with joy, and waving a hand covered with the\nmarks of ineffectual human remedies, and that had been utterly paralyzed\nan hour before. Every one crowded around her to see, examine, test the\nuse of her arm, and assure themselves of the truth of the case. She had\nbeen fourteen months in a hospital at Marseilles, and had come with a\nlarge number of pilgrims from that place who were ready to testify to her\nprevious helplessness. The whole scene was thrilling. Bands of pilgrims\nwith blue badges of the Virgin sang hymns of joy. A wave of excitement\nevery now and then passed over the crowd and found vent in repeated\n_vivas_. The girl was finally released from the examination and admitted\ninto the grotto, when the Magnificat was intoned.\n\nThe cliff of Massabielle has been cut down and levelled off to serve as\nthe foundation of the church, which stands on the top at a distance of\nseventy or eighty feet directly above the grotto. The title of minor\nbasilica was conferred on it by His Holiness Pius IX., in March, 1874. A\npath leads up to it from the shore, its windings along the edge of the\ncliff forming the monogram of Mary, among hedges of roses and arbor-vit\u00e6,\nglistening with dew, and overhung with acacias and evergreens--a charming\nascent, each step of which leads to a rarer atmosphere, a lovelier and\nmore extended view, and nearer the altar of Mary.\n\nThere are two churches, one above the other; the lower one, dim and\nsolemn with penitential gloom; the upper, radiant with the light and\npurity that ought to surround\n\n    \u201cOur tainted nature\u2019s solitary boast.\u201d\n\nLet us first enter the crypt. In the vestibule is a statue of S. Germaine\nof Pibrac with her crook and legendary apron of roses, and a lamb at her\nfeet--the gift of a band of pilgrims from Toulouse. An arched passage\nleads each side of the crypt with banners hung over the confessionals\nin the recesses. Passing through one of these, we found ourselves in\na low, gloomy nave crowded with columns to support the upper church.\nIt is chiefly lighted by the numerous lamps hanging on every side, and\nthe large stands of candles that burn before the Virgin, who is over\nthe altar embowered among roses. The pavement is covered with kneeling\nforms--ladies, soldiers, peasants. You hear the whispered prayer, you\ncatch glimpses of devout faces, quivering lips, and upturned eyes.\nEverything here is solemn and mysterious, and inclines one to serious\nreflection. On the pillars hang the different scenes of the great Passion\nin which we all had so sad a part. They strike new terror into the soul\nin this sepulchral church that seems hewn out of the living rock.\n\n                            \u201cLow I sit,\n    In sorrow, penitence-stricken, and deep woe,\n    \u2019Mid shades of death, thine arrow drinks my blood;\n    For I thine innocent side have pierc\u00e9d deep.\n    I dare not look upon thy bleeding brow,\n    For I have circled it with thorny crown,\n    Thou Holy One, and here I sit and weep,\n    Bowed with the o\u2019erwhelming burden down to earth.\u201d\n\nThe carved confessionals at the end suggest comforting thoughts. There\n\n          \u201cThe great Absolver with relief\n    Stands by the door, and bears the key\n    O\u2019er Penitence on bended knee.\u201d\n\nThere are five chapels--a mystic number associated with five sorrowful\nmysteries--each with two small windows pierced through the thick walls,\nlooking like the loop-holes of a fort. Their sides are covered with\nvotive pictures and small marble tablets with inscriptions, some of which\nwe copy:\n\n    \u201cReconnaissance \u00e9ternelle \u00e0 la toute puissante Notre Dame de\n    Lourdes pour la grace qu\u2019elle m\u2019a obtenue.\n\n                                             Paris, 30 Juillet, 1872.\n\n                                                               \u201cM. M.\u201d\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    \u201cAmour et reconnaissance \u00e0 Notre Dame de Lourdes. Deux c\u0153urs\n    gu\u00e9ris et consol\u00e9s.\u201d\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    \u201cA Notre Dame de Lourdes, Colonel L. S.\n\n                                                       \u201c6 Aout, 1870.\u201d\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n    \u201cReconnaissance \u00e9ternelle \u00e0 Notre Dame de Lourdes qui a gu\u00e8ri\n    notre fille.\u201d\n\nThere is a countless number of similar inscriptions, which are so many\nleaves torn from domestic histories, extremely touching and suggestive\nto read. They are eternal expressions of gratitude, which are doubtless\npleasing to the Divine Benefactor, who is not regardless of one who\nreturns to give thanks.\n\nOur last visit to the crypt will never be forgotten. We had arrived at\nLourdes the evening before, in a pouring rain, which still continued\nwhen we went at half-past four in the morning to attend the Mass of a\nclerical friend. It was with difficulty we made our way into the nave,\ncrammed with pilgrims from Bretagne and La Vend\u00e9e. The five chapels were\nfilled with priests waiting for their turn to say Mass. Our friend had\nbeen there since two o\u2019clock, and it was nearly seven before he found a\nvacancy at the altar. Masses likewise had been continually succeeding\neach other since midnight in the fifteen chapels of the church above. The\nplace, it will be seen, is one of perpetual prayer.\n\nOur devotions over at a late hour, we ascended a flight of twenty-six\nsteps, which brought us to a broad terrace before the upper church\ncommanding a lovely view of the valley, with the picturesque old castle\ndirectly in front. The sun had come out after the rain, and nothing could\nbe more fresh and enchanting. On the terrace stood the four bells given\nby the Prince of Viana, and not yet hung. They were baptized August\n11, by Cardinal Donnet of Bordeaux, in presence of a numerous crowd,\nincluding Don Sebastian de Bourbon, Infante of Spain, the Duc de Nemours,\nand the Prince of B\u00e9arn and Viana.\n\nBefore entering the church, we pause in front of the Gothic portal to\nlook up at the representation of our Saviour over the central arch. His\nface is turned towards Lourdes, a cruciform nimbus surrounds his head,\nthe Alpha and Omega are at the side, and his right hand is raised to\nbless the pilgrim beneath. At each side are the winged emblems of the\nEvangelists. And lower down is the Virgin Mother, her hands crossed on\nher breast, her face,\n\n    \u201cThe most resembling Christ,\u201d\n\nsweet and thoughtful. She seems to be awaiting all who seek through her\nthe Divine Redeemer, who by her has been given to mankind. _Felix c\u0153li\nporta_, we say as we pass beneath.\n\nEntering the church, we are at once struck with its immaculate purity.\nIt is in the style of the XIIIth century. The height is about double\nthe width, which makes the arches seem loftier than they really are.\nThe spotless white walls are relieved by the beautiful banners hanging\non every side. There are about four hundred of these banners, richly\nembroidered with religious symbols and devices, and the arms of different\ncities and provinces. Conspicuous among them are the banners of Alsace\nand Lorraine bordered with crape. They were wrought in secret, and\nbrought over the frontier in the night to escape the vigilance of the\nPrussian police. They were presented by faithful Christians, one of whom\nwas a valiant officer whose breast was covered with decorations, and\nreceived by the Archbishop of Auch (to whose province Lourdes belongs),\nwho wept as he pressed them to his lips, affecting the vast crowd to\ntears.\n\nAround the nave of the church is an unique frieze of votive golden\nhearts, so arranged as to form inscriptions in immense letters,\ntaken from the words of the Virgin to Bernadette: \u201cVOUS PRIEREZ POUR\nLA CONVERSION DES P\u00c9CHEURS. ALLEZ BOIRE \u00c0 LA FONTAINE ET VOUS Y\nLAVER.--ALLEZ DIRE AUX PR\u00caTRES QU\u2019IL DOIT SE B\u00c2TIR ICI UNE CHAPELLE, ET\nQU\u2019ON DOIT Y VENIR EN PROCESSION.\u201d\n\nThe main altar in the centre of the choir is dedicated to the mystery\nof the Immaculate Conception. It is of pure white marble, and on the\nfront are five compartments on which are sculptured the Annunciation,\nVisitation, Assumption, Coronation, and the Apparition of the Blessed\nVirgin in the grotto. The altar is adorned with white lilies. Over\nit in a golden niche is a statue of Mary Most Pure, \u201cabove all women\nglorified,\u201d the very embodiment of purity and love. Above her, like a\ncrown, is a constellation of beautiful lamps of filigree and enamel.\nRich votive offerings are fastened to the walls--crosses of the Legion\nof Honor, epaulettes, swords crossed above flags, a miniature ship, the\nmitre of Mgr. Lawrence, etc. On the keystone of the arch are sculptured\nthe arms of Pope Pius IX.\n\nThe main altar with its Madonna is the central object in the church,\nand the focus of its splendor. Around it, like so many rays around the\nImmaculate Conception, are five apsidal chapels. Directly behind it is\nthe chapel of the Sacred Heart, where of course the Blessed Sacrament\nis kept. At the left is Notre Dame du Mont Carmel, in honor of the last\napparition to Bernadette, which took place on the festival of that name.\nNext is the chapel of Notre Dame des Victoires, in commemoration of\nthe celebrated archconfraternity at Paris, which has effected so many\nconversions, wrought so many miracles, and prepared the way, as it were,\nfor the triumph of the Immaculate Conception.\n\nAt the right of the chapel of the Sacred Heart is that of Notre Dame\ndu Rosaire, recalling the rosary the Virgin held on her arm in all her\napparitions to Bernadette. Then, Notre Dame de la Sallette, reminding us\nthat the tears the Mother of Sorrows once shed over the woes of France\nin the mountains of Dauphine, have been succeeded by the smiles of Marie\nImmacul\u00e9e in the grotto of the Pyrenees.\n\nEach of these five chapels recall the Holy Trinity by the number of their\nwindows, as the rose window in the fa\u00e7ade is typical of the Divine Unity.\nThese windows are of stained glass--the gift of the Prince of Viana.\nThe main altar and the statue of the Immaculate Conception are from\nan anonymous benefactor, and many of the other altars are the gifts of\nprivate individuals.\n\nTen lateral chapels open out of the nave, and communicate with each\nother for convenience. The four nearest the choir bring around Mary the\nprincipal members of her family: S. Anne, S. Joachim, S. Joseph, and S.\nJohn the Baptist. Then come the chapel of S. Peter, still living in our\n\u201cPope of the Immaculate Conception,\u201d who so glorified Mary on the 8th\nof December, 1854; S. John, the beloved disciple, who was appointed her\nson on Mt. Calvary; S. Francis of Assisi, the patriarch of the Seraphic\nOrder that has always been the advocate of the Immaculate Conception; S.\nFrancis Xavier, patron of the Society for the Propagation of the Faith,\none of the glories of this age of Mary; S. Bertrand, the illustrious\nbishop of Commines and the patron saint of Mgr. Lawrence, whose name\nwill ever be associated with the church of Notre Dame de Lourdes; and S.\nGermaine, the humble shepherdess of Pibrac, so like the little _berg\u00e8re_\nof Lourdes.\n\nThus four of the great religious orders of the church are represented\nbefore the Virgin\u2019s throne--the Carmelite, Dominican, Franciscan, and\nJesuit. Each chapel, sacred to some holy mystery, has its beautiful\naltar, its carved oaken confessional, its circular golden chandelier, its\nstation of the cross, its banners, and its statues.\n\nThe carved oak pulpit on the left side of the nave was given by the\nBishop of Marseilles.\n\nThe windows of the side chapels, that await a donor, will depict the\nhistory of Notre Dame de Lourdes, beginning with the first apparition\nand ending with the consecration of the church. And the clerestory\nwindows will represent the history of the devotion to the Immaculate\nConception. The decoration of the church is by no means complete. It is\nto be in harmony with the architecture, so pure in outline and light\nin form. In the seventy-six arcatures of the triforium the saints most\ndevoted to the Immaculate Conception are to be represented on a gilt\nground.\n\nTo see this beautiful church crowded with devout pilgrims, priests\nat every altar of the fifteen chapels, a grand service going on in\nthe choir with all the solemn pomp displayed in great cathedrals, the\nnumerous clergy in the richest vestments, and to hear the grand music of\nPalestrina executed with perfect harmony and exquisite taste--the whole\ncongregation heartily joining in the chants, and the peal of the trumpets\ncontrasting admirably with their earnest voices--is to the ravished soul\nlike a vision of the heavenly Jerusalem. The lofty arches seem to sway\nwith the undulations of the music, sometimes soft as the murmur of a\nrivulet, and again as deep as a mountain torrent falling over rocks. The\neye is never weary of gazing at this fair temple with its pure outlines,\nso harmonious in all its parts, the soft light coming in floods through\nthe lofty windows and mingling with the brilliancy of the lights and\nflowers; the immense oriflammes hanging from the arches to give testimony\nto the glory of the Immaculate Conception and the Pontiff who crowned\nthat glory; the mysterious words on the wall that fell from the smiling\nlips of the Virgin in the grotto; and the Most Pure herself, unveiled to\nall eyes, standing in the midst of all this splendor above the altar,\nin a golden atmosphere, raising heavenward her look of inspiration, her\nhands joined in prayer, her heart swelling with love--adoring love for\nHim who dwells in the tabernacle; and maternal love for her children\ngathered around the fountain opened for the salvation of the world. O\nImmaculate One! we here feel thy sweet presence, and the creative power\nof thy word: \u201cGo, tell the priests I wish a chapel to be built on this\nspot.\u201d\n\nNever was greater miracle wrought by humbler instrumentality--never was\nthe Divine Hand more manifest than in the upspringing of this mountain\nchapel--the lily of the Immaculate Conception, sweetest flower of this\nage of Mary. Human intelligence is confounded at what has been effected\nby the mouth of a poor peasant girl of this obscure valley. It grasps at\nthe assurance of faith in Mary who has wrought it. Before her the Gave\nthat beat against the cliff has fallen back--image of the torrent that\napproached Mary at the moment of her creation, and, just as she was about\nto receive the fatal stain, the wave of corruption, that bears all of us\npoor children of Eve on its impure waters, fell back before the ark of\nthe new covenant, F\u0153deris Arca.\n\nThe very cliffs have bowed down at her presence, and these stones, these\nwalls, these columns, these arches, and the fountain of indisputable\npotency that has sprung out of the bowels of the earth, bear witness to\nher wonderful apparitions and power.\n\nOne of the most imposing spectacles at Lourdes is a procession of\npilgrims, especially when seen, as we saw one, from the mount above\ncoming from the town--a very forest of crosses, banners, and lanterns,\nborne by thousands of people with that slow, measured, solemn, harmonious\nstep that is in itself a prayer. We thought of good Mother Hallahan and\nher delight in nine miles of prayer. Here were whole leagues of praise.\n\n                    \u201cOn the ear\n      Swells softly forth some virgin hymn;\n    The white procession windeth near,\n      With glimmering lights in sunshine dim.\n\n    Mother of Purity and Peace!\n      They sing the Saviour\u2019s name and thine:\n    Clothe them forever with the fleece\n      Unspotted of thy Lamb Divine!\u201d\n\nFrom one end of the immense procession to the other rose chants without\ndiscord--here from a band of maidens and innocent children, yonder from\nharmonious choirs of maturer years. From time to time a peal of trumpets\ndrowned the murmur of the Gave and awoke the echoes of the mountains. In\nthe procession were hundreds of men organized into pious confraternities\nas in the Middle Ages. They follow the path taken by Bernadette, when she\nwas irresistibly led on to the place of the wondrous vision. They all\nstop to make a genuflection where she knelt before the Beautiful Lady,\nand begin the Litany of Loretto in the sweet plaintive air peculiar to\nthe country. It is delightful to hear Mary\u2019s name swelling along the\nvalley and up the rocky heights! Thus chanting they ascend the winding\npath on the cliff, forming a living monogram of the Virgin\u2019s name, among\nroses that give out their perfume, through cedars of Lebanon and other\nrare trees that bend down their branches laden with dew. And above this\nverdure, these perfumes, and these chanted supplications, the white\nmarble Church of the Immaculate Conception sends heavenward the silent\nprayer of its gleaming walls, its pillars, its turrets and pinnacles.\nThey wind around the church like a wreath and disappear within its\nsculptured portal chanting: _L\u00e6tatus sum in his qu\u00e6 dicta sunt mihi_--I\nwas glad at the things that were said to me. We will go into the house\nof the Lord.\u2026 Our feet were wont to stand in thy courts, O Jerusalem!\nJerusalem which is built as a city that is at unity with itself.\u2026\nPlenteousness be to them that love thee!\n\nAt the particular request of the Prince of Viana, one of the greatest\nbenefactors to the church, his Holiness Pope Pius IX. has granted a\npartial indulgence to all who visit the church, and a plenary indulgence\nto those who here approach the sacraments and pray for concord among\nChristian princes the extirpation of heresies, and the exaltation of our\nholy Mother the Church.\n\nA winding road leads from the church by gentle ascent up the picturesque\nmount behind, along which are to be built fifteen chapels in honor of\nthe Mysteries of the Rosary, where the words once spoken by the angel\nwill ascend the mountain side in one long and incessant Ave Maria! Along\nthis holy way will continually ascend and descend the pious votary in\n\u201cpilgrim\u2019s cowl and lowly weed\u201d\n\n    \u201cDropping on each mystic bead\n    To Mary, Mother Mild, a contrite tear.\u201d\n\nA certain party, desirous of bringing pilgrimages into disrepute, and\ninclined to seek some human cause for everything supernatural, attributes\na political object to this great crusade of prayer which the impious\ninstinctively tremble before, and not without reason. M. Lasserre thus\ncloses an address to the visitor to Notre Dame de Lourdes:\n\n\u201cPilgrims of France! Your politics at the grotto of Lourdes is to pray,\nto begin a new life, to sanctify yourselves, and to become in this\ncorrupt age the chosen righteous who are to save the wicked cities of the\nland. It is thus you will labor efficaciously for the prosperity of your\ncountry and bring back its past splendor and glory. A nation desirous of\nsalvation in heaven, is a nation saved on earth.\u201d\n\nWe close by echoing one of the acclamations sung alternately by clergy\nand people at the solemn celebration in this place of benediction:\n\nV. Omnibus nobis peregrinantibus, et universo Christiano populo, Fidei,\nSpei, et Charitatis augmentum et gaudium \u00e6ternum.\n\nR. Amen. Amen. Salvos fac servos tuos, Domine, et benedic h\u00e6reditati tu\u00e6,\net rege eos, et extolle illos usque in \u00e6ternum.\n\nFiat. Fiat. Amen.\n\n\nTHE HOUSE OF JOAN OF ARC.\n\nI am writing these lines in a small inn of Domr\u00e9my, on the evening of\nmy pilgrimage to the lowly dwelling of Jeanne d\u2019Arc. My table is an old\ncoffer, shakily placed on the rugged and disjointed paving stones which\nform the floor, and my only companion a kitten gambolling in the red rays\nof the setting sun. I thus begin my account of that house which has been\nwell called the _santa casa_ of France.\n\nArriving at Domr\u00e9my while yet its green valleys were enveloped in the\nwhite vapors rising from the Meuse, my first sight of the place was\nthrough the mist of early morning.\n\nIt is a small village of Lorraine, near the confines of Champagne. God,\nwho so often wills to choose a mere nothing through which to exercise his\npower, chose it as the starting-point of his work for the deliverance\nof France. For Domr\u00e9my was a little village also in the year 1425, when\nthere the heavenly light appeared, there the angel descended, and the\nvoices not of earth were heard.\n\nThe mutilation of this province by the German invasion has only rendered\nDomr\u00e9my more _lorrain_ than ever: and the Vosges Mountains raise their\nblue summits along the horizon and lengthen their shadows as if the\nbetter to guard the home of her who was the good angel of her country.\n\nThe village consists of scarcely more than a hundred houses, clustered\nround the venerable church and the old walls of the cottage which\nsheltered the infancy and youth of the daughter of Jaques d\u2019Arc and his\nwife Isabelle Rom\u00e9e.\n\nThis church, to which her earliest steps were bent, the place of her\nprayers and inspirations, where she armed her soul with virtue and\nheroism before arming her breast like a brave warrior preparing for\nbattle--this church is more than lowly, it is poor; and it is matter for\nwonder that, if no one else does so, at least that the maidens of France\ndo not organize themselves into an association which should make it their\nchosen sanctuary, and by which they would engage themselves not only to\nprovide it with what is necessary and fitting, but with pious generosity\nto enrich and beautify their privileged altar.\n\nAt the threshold of the church stands a ridiculous statue of Jeanne\nd\u2019Arc. It seems a sort of sacrilege so to have misrepresented the\nfeatures of the Maid; and the best way to dispose of this image would be\nto throw it into a furnace and melt it down in company with the still\nmore objectionable equestrian statue recently erected in the Place des\nPyramides at Paris, which insults the modest virgin by placing her\nastride on her charger, in a complete suit of armor, instead of the steel\nbreastplate which alone she wore over her womanly apparel. Then, out of\nthe metal of these molten caricatures might be struck medals of worthier\ndesign, to be distributed in the country.\n\nAmong the trees at a few paces from the church is a little Greek monument\nsupported by four columns, beneath which is a bust of Jeanne in white\nmarble. Facing this little monument, about a stone\u2019s throw off, stands\nher dwelling. This house is separated from the road by two pavilions\nconnected by a railing of gilt arrows. Trees envelop its walls with their\novershadowing branches, and a third part of the roof is covered with ivy.\nAbove the door, which is low, are three shields of armorial bearings, the\nArms of France, charged with a sword, and those of the family of D\u2019Arc;\nor, to speak more exactly, the door is surmounted by three escutcheons,\nnamely, that of Louis XI., who caused the cottage to be embellished;\nthat which was granted to one of the brothers of Jeanne, together with\nthe name of Lys; and a third, which bears a star and three ploughshares,\nto symbolize Jeanne\u2019s heavenly mission and the lowly condition of her\nparents. Two inscriptions in uncial Gothic are graven on the stone:\n\u201c_Vive Labeur!_\u201d--the motto of Jeanne and the _resum\u00e9_ of her history;\nand \u201c_Vive le Roi Loys!_\u201d--the _resum\u00e9_ of her great work.\n\nOn the left of the door is a lattice window with diamond-shaped panes.\nTwo rooms constitute the whole of the house. Jeanne was born in the first\nand larger of the two; the second and inner one is dimly lighted by a\nsmall window opening towards the church. Here it was that Jeanne listened\nto the heavenly voices, and here she heard the church bells summoning\nto prayer, or sounding the tocsin, when the village was attacked by\nmarauding bands who came to sack the place and cut down the partisans of\nthe throne of France.\n\nOn several occasions fugitives were concealed by her in this obscure\nchamber. She gave up her bed to them, and went to rest in the hayloft.\n\nFacing the hearth in the entrance room is a statue in bronze, reduced\nfrom the expressive figure by the Princess Mary of Orleans.[160] Garlands\nof moss surround this statue, and rose-leaves are scattered at its\nfeet. The nuns who are in charge of the house assemble every evening in\nthis room with the young girls of the village, to sing hymns. On the\nwall hangs a crucifix, and beneath it stands an image of the Blessed\nVirgin; and here the nuns with their little flock keep the month of Mary,\ncelebrating the praises of the Royal Virgin of Judah, who was so dear to\nthe heart of the virgin of Domr\u00e9my.\n\nHere and there upon the walls are _ex votos_, slabs of marble and bronze\nrelating facts worthy of remembrance in honor of Jeanne, or recalling\nhistoric dates. The beams and rafters of the ceiling are dinted by axe\nand sabre strokes given by the Prussians in 1814, not by any means from\ndisrespect, or motives of jealousy, but merely from an outbreak of\ndestructive devotion. They entered the house, silent, and with their hats\noff, but they did not wish to leave it without taking from it some relics\nto carry into their own country.\n\nNumerous pilgrims have been guilty of the low and objectionable\nproceeding of carving their names on the stones of the house, although a\nregister is kept at hand on purpose to receive the visitors\u2019 names and\nimpressions. The piece of furniture on which the volumes are placed was\npresented last year by a prince of France, and accompanied by the gift of\na piece of Gobelin tapestry representing the entry of King Charles VII.\nand _Jehanne la bonne Lorraine_ into the city of Rheims.\n\nThe latest volume of the register commences in 1871, after the disasters\nand misfortunes of France. To every name inscribed in its pages, whether\nof aristocrat or commoner, officers of the army or men of the rank and\nfile, thoughts are elaborated of more or less pretension to literary\nmerit, in prose or verse, but the dominant idea is prayer to God for the\nsalvation of France, and grateful love to Jeanne d\u2019Arc; while here and\nthere are appeals to the Sovereign Pontiff for the beatification of the\nyoung patriot martyr, or at any rate for a solemn affirmation of the\nmiraculous nature of her call and the sanctity of her life.\n\nA touching incident occurred not quite a year ago. One evening in the\nmonth of May, two English ladies, nuns of the Order of Servites, visited\nthe house, accompanied by a priest of Vaucouleurs, and had no sooner\ncrossed the threshold than, falling on their knees, they burst into\ntears, entreating God to pardon England, guilty of the death of Joan of\nArc, and making a fervent act of reparation for their country, their\nancestors, and themselves. Nor did they rise before they had kissed the\nfloor of that lowly cottage where she had so often knelt in prayer to God\nand in converse with his glorified saints, and where she had lived in the\nfulfilment of the daily duties of her lowly estate.\n\nOn another occasion a band of volunteers, on their way to join the\narmy, came to ask _La Pucelle_ to help them to be good soldiers, and\nbegging her blessing on themselves and their arms as they would that of\na canonized saint. A cavalry officer made a visit to Domr\u00e9my expressly\nto remind her that one of his comrades in arms died at Gravelotte\nrepeating her name. A great number of officers who made their escape from\nGermany also came hither direct from the frontier, to return thanks for\ntheir safety, before returning to the homes where their families were\nanxiously awaiting them.\n\nA great pope has said, \u201cFrance will not perish, for God has always a\nmiracle in reserve to save her.\u201d\n\nThe miracle came in the middle of the XVth century, in the person of\nJeanne d\u2019Arc. It may come again through her instrumentality; not this\ntime leading on the victors at Orleans, Patay, Troyes, Rheims, Compeigne,\nParis, or dying at Rouen amid the flames, but crowned a saint upon the\nChurch\u2019s altars, as a powerful intercessor for her native land. Mgr.\nDupanloup has given a great impetus to the desire for forwarding her\ncause at the infallible tribunal of the Catholic Church.\n\nGerson, the great and pious chancellor, and the contemporary of Joan of\nArc, ardently desired the same cause, which is now taken to heart, not\nonly by the illustrious bishop, but also by the clergy, the magistrature,\nand the army in Orleans, who are at the head of various commissions\nemployed in obtaining the evidence necessary for aiding the judgment\nof the Sovereign Pontiff. He will have a pleasant task who may be\nentrusted to collect the popular traditions which linger like a fragrance\nat Domr\u00e9my, of the innocent and holy life of Joan of Arc, and to him\nthe very walls of her cottage birthplace will be eloquent: _lapides\nclamabunt_.[161]\n\n\nSONNET.\n\n    Mark yonder gentle doe! her one loved fawn\n    Close at her side, just where the leafy wood,\n    With all its summer charms of solitude,\n    Steps o\u2019er the verdant edges of our lawn!\n    Mark their shy grace at this chaste hour of dawn!\n    While culling spicy birch-twigs, their cropped food\n    Dew-drops impearl, and morning shadows brood\n    O\u2019er dells, towards which their timid feet are drawn.\n    Thus have I seen, within a cloister\u2019s shade,\n    A widowed mother and one tender child\n    Close at her side; one habit on them laid;\n    Both, by a kindred exaltation mild,\n    Led to the service of the Mother Maid,\n    With her to seek Heaven\u2019s peace through pathways undefiled.\n\n\nDOMINIQUE DE GOURGUES,\n\n_THE AVENGER OF THE HUGUENOTS IN FLORIDA, A CATHOLIC_.\n\nThe traveller between Bordeaux and Bayonne who takes an eastward train at\nMorcenx, will arrive in less than an hour at Mont-de-Marsan, a small town\nof four or five thousand inhabitants, on the borders of the Landes, at\nthe confluence of the Douze and Midou, which form the Midouze. Some say\nit was founded on the site of an old temple of Mars, by Charlemagne, on\nhis return from Roncesvalles. If so, the place was afterwards destroyed\nby the Saracen or Norman invaders, for the fifth Vicomte de Marsan,\ndesirous of purging the forest of Maremsin of the robbers who endangered\nthe lives and property of the merchants and pilgrims who passed that\nway, built a castle at the junction of the two rivers, on a spot which\nbore a name of ominous meaning: _Ma\u00fc-pas_, or _Mauvais-pas_--doubtless\na bad place to fall into, on account of the frequent robberies. Around\nthis castle gathered the vassals of the neighboring abbey of S. Sever for\nprotection. They came from the parish of S. Pierre-du-Mont, and brought\ntheir devotion to S. Peter with them. The arms of the town are still two\nkeys _en pal_, between the letters M. M. (Mons Martianus); and the parish\nchurch that stood till the Revolution, was dedicated to S. Peter, where\nthe mayor, before entering on his functions, took the following curious\noath in three languages--the Gascon, Latin, and French:\n\n    Per Diu et per aquet monsegn\u00e9 Saint P\u00e9,\n    Jou juri que bon et lejau a la bille jou ser\u00e9\n    Lous bens daquere jou proucurer\u00e9,\n    Et lous maux esbiter\u00e9.\n    Las causes doubtouses dab conselt jou fer\u00e9,\n    Justice tan au petit com au gros jou far\u00e9,\n    Com an heit lous autes maires et millou si jou s\u00e9,\n    Ansi me adjud\u00e9 Diu et monsegn\u00e9 Saint P\u00e9.\n\n    Per Deum et sanctum Petrum juro\n    Quod urbi bonus et legalis ero,\n    Ejus bona procurabo,\n    Ejus mala vitabo:\n    Dubia faciam cum consilio,\n    Et justitiam tam parvo quam magno,\n    Sicut alii magistratus et melius si scio,\n    Sic non ero sine Dei ac sancti Petri adjutorio.\n\n    Je jure par le Dieu vivant et par Saint Pierre,\n    Que j\u00e8 seray bon et l\u00e9gal \u00e0 la ville;\n    Que j\u2019en procureray les biens et eviteray les maux,\n    Que je ne feray jamais les choses douteuses sans conseil,\n    Que je feray justice, au petit comme au grand,\n    De m\u00eame que les autres maires, et mieux si je scay;\n    Ainsi me puisse toujours ayder mon Dieu et Saint Pierre.[162]\n\nIn 1256, the town passed into the possession of the lords of B\u00e9arn,\nand to keep it in due subjection Gaston Ph\u0153bus built the castle\nof _Nou-li-bos_, _i.e._, _You-do-not-wish-it-there_, referring to\nthe opposition of the inhabitants--a name that recalls the famous\n_Quiquengrogne_ erected by Anne of Bretagne to keep the town of S. Malo\nin check, and the _Bridle_ built by Louis XII. at the entrance of the\nharbor of Genoa.\n\nCalvinism, of course, took some root here in the time of Jeanne d\u2019Albret.\nTheodore Beza sent preachers to win over the people, but the Catholics\norganized under the Seigneur de Ravignan and for a while kept the\nHuguenots from any excesses. Montgomery, however, soon swept over the\ncountry, sacking all the churches and monasteries, many of which he razed\nto the ground. Among these was the convent of Bayries, a community of\nClarist nuns in the vicinity of Mont-de-Marsan, founded in 1270 by Gaston\nPh\u0153bus and his wife Amate, which numbered Catherine d\u2019Albret, a cousin\nof Francis I., among its abbesses. Marie d\u2019Albret, another relative of\nthe king\u2019s, was abbess when the marriage between him and Eleanore of\nAustria took place here, July 6, 1530. This house of historic interest\nwas stripped of every valuable by the Huguenots, and then burned to the\nground, the nuns barely escaping with their lives.\n\nThe redoubtable Monluc soon avenged all these sacrileges by taking\nMont-de-Marsan, and despatching all who opposed the passage of his\ntroops. The few Huguenot soldiers left, he threw from the windows of the\nformidable _Nou-li-bos_, to avenge, as he said, the brother-in-arms,\nwhose officers were treacherously butchered by the Huguenots after the\ncapitulation of Orthez.\n\nThis castle of terrible memory has a pleasanter association, for in it\npassed the early childhood of the poet Fran\u00e7ois Le Poulchre, the king\u2019s\nknight, and lord of La Motte-Messem\u00e9, who boasted of descending from the\nancient Roman consul, Appius Pulcher, who displayed such conspicuous\nvalor under the famous Lucullus,\n\n    \u201cUn Appius Pulcher, gentilhomme Romain,\n    Duquel s\u2019est maintenu le nom de main en main\n    Jusques au temps pr\u00e9sent, jusqu\u2019\u00e0 moi qui le porte.\u201d\n\nHe took for his device: _Suum cuique pulchrum_, in allusion to his name.\n\nAs his father was superintendent of the household of Margaret, queen\nof Navarre, sister of Francis I., Fran\u00e7ois Le Poulchre had the honor\nof having that king for his godfather, and Margaret for his godmother.\nThe latter conceived such an affection for him that she kept him at her\ncastle at Marsan, and made him eat at her table as soon as he was old\nenough. He says himself:\n\n    \u201cJ\u2019eus l\u2019honneur pour parrain d\u2019avoir le roi Fran\u00e7ois,\n    Pour marraine sa s\u0153ur, Royne des Navarrois,\n    Qui me favorisa jusque l\u00e0 elle mesme\n    Me tenir sur les fons le iour de mon baptesme,\n    Faict par un grand preslat l\u2019evesque de Loron. (Oloron).\n    \u2026\n    \u201cMe faisant mesmement \u00e0 sa table manger\n    En pr\u00e9sence des siens, ou de quelque estranger\n    Qui peut y arriver, ne changeant onc de place.\u201d\n\nWith little taste for study Le Poulchre left college at an early age to\nembrace the profession of arms.\n\n    \u201cAvecque ce grand duc, non moins vaillant que bon,\n    Race de Saint Louis, dit Louis de Bourbon,\u201d\n\n--that is to say, under the great Cond\u00e9. He has given us his own life\nand adventures under the title of _Les honnestes Loisirs du Seigneur de\nla Motte-Messem\u00e9_, which is divided into seven books bearing the title\nof the seven planets, as the history of Herodotus bears the name of the\nnine muses, and the poetical Zodiac of Marcellus Palingenesis bears the\nnames of the twelve signs of the zodiac. To compose it, he retired to the\nCh\u00e2teau de Bouzemont in Lorraine. We trust he was more skilful in the use\nof the sword than of the pen. One of his sonnets, however, is pleasing.\nIt is like a single flower in a barren parterre. It is addressed to\nthe _dame de ses pens\u00e9es_, to whom, after acknowledging she hears Mass\ndevoutly, fasts with due strictness, goes to confession regularly, and\nis always charitable to the poor, he says:\n\n    \u201cVous faictes tout cela, mais ce seroit resver\n    De croire que cela tout seul vous pust sauver.\n    Ne vous y arrestez pas, je vous prie, Madame;\n    D\u2019aller en Paradis le plus certain moyen\n    C\u2019est de rendre \u00e0 chacun ce que l\u2019on a du sien:\n    Rendez-moi donc mon c\u0153ur, vous sauverez vostre ame;\u201d\n\n--You do all this, but it is a dream to suppose this alone can save you.\nDo not stop here, madam, I pray you; the surest means of gaining paradise\nis to restore to every one what belongs to him: Give me back my heart,\nthen, and you will save your soul!\n\nAmong other historic memories evoked by Le Poulchre in his seven cantos,\nhe relates how, going to kiss the hand of the young King Charles IX.,\nAnne d\u2019Este,\n\n                      \u201cVeufve du grand Lorrain,\n    Qu\u2019avait meschantement d\u2019une traisteresse main\n    Blec\u00e9 d\u2019un coup de plomb Poltrot, son domestique,\u201d\n\n--came not to seek vengeance on Poltrot, for he had already been drawn\nand quartered before St. Jean de Gr\u00e8ve, but on Coligny, whom, in the\npresence of the king, the Cardinal de Guise, and others, in the nave\nof the chapel of the ch\u00e2teau de Vincennes, she accused of being an\naccomplice in the crime of February 18, 1563.\n\nIt was not long after this the king,\n\n                  \u201cSe hastant de traverser les Lanes\n    Pour aller voir sa s\u0153ur la Reyne des Espagnes,\u201d\n\nstopped at Mont-de-Marsan, where he made Le Poulchre _escuyer d\u2019escuyrie\nordinaire_, as the poet does not fail to record, and shortly after he\nreceived the collar of knighthood from the same royal hand.\n\nThe ch\u00e2teau of Gaston Ph\u0153bus, which had received so many princes and\nprincesses within its walls, and been the witness of so many tragedies,\nwas, after being taken anew from the Huguenots, totally demolished by\nthe order of Louis XIII A charming promenade, called the _P\u00e9pini\u00e8re_,\nsurrounded by the Douze, is now the spot.\n\nMont-de-Marsan was formerly a centre of considerable trade, and the\nentrep\u00f4t of the country around. Wine, grain, turpentine, wool, etc.,\nwere brought here to be sent down the Midouze. This was a source of\nconsiderable revenue to the place, and explains the extensive warehouses,\nnow unused in consequence of the railway and the diversion of trade.\nThere is still a little wharf, where are moored several barks laden with\nwood or turpentine, but there is not business enough to disturb the\nquietness of the place. No one would suppose it had ever been the theatre\nof terrible events. The most striking feature is a peculiar oblong\ncourt, surrounded by houses of uniform style, with numerous balconies\nfor the spectators to witness the bull-fights occasionally held here--an\namusement that accords with the fiery nature and pastoral pursuits of\nthe people around, and is still clung to in several places in the Landes\nand among the Pyrenees. This square is, by a singular anomaly, called\nthe _Place St. Roch_, from a saint regarded throughout the region as the\npatron of animals; and they certainly have need of his protection in a\nplace where they are exposed to such cruelty.\n\nSuch are some of the characteristics and memories of the small inland\ntown in which was born Dominique de Gourgues, the leader of the\ncelebrated expedition against the Spaniards in Florida. He was the third\nson of Jean de Gourgues and Isabella de Lau, his wife.\n\nHe was born in the year 1537, in an age of religious conflict, when\nparty spirit ran too high for any one to remain neutral, whatever their\ngrade of piety. It might therefore seem surprising there should ever have\nbeen any doubt as to the religious convictions of De Gourgues. Because\nhe was the avenger of the massacre of the Huguenots in Florida, he has\noften been identified with the Protestant party. Because he lived in an\nage when provincial and sectarian spirit often prevailed over patriotism,\nit has been taken for granted that sympathy with the religious sentiments\nof the victims of the Spaniards could alone have induced him to sell\nhis property to provide for a distant and dangerous expedition that\nwould never repay him even if successful. In a work entitled, _La\nFrance Protestante_, by MM. Haag, a kind of dictionary of Protestant\ncelebrities in France, issued in 1853 by a proselyting press, whose works\nare everywhere to be found, De Gourgues is made a Huguenot. No proof is\ngiven, no doubt expressed--the surest and shortest way of carrying one\u2019s\npoint in these days. Assurance always produces a certain effect even\non the thoughtfully-minded. They take it for granted it has some real\nfoundation.\n\nThe _Revue Protestante_[163] makes the same assertion, appealing to De\nThou and other historians.\n\nFrancis Parkman, in his _Pioneers of France in the New World_, says:\n\u201cThere was a gentleman of Mont-de-Marsan, Dominique de Gourgues, a\nsoldier of ancient birth and high renown. That he was a Huguenot is not\ncertain. The Spanish annalist Barcia calls him a terrible heretic; but\nthe French Jesuit, Charlevoix, anxious the faithful should share the\nglory of his exploits, affirms, that, like his ancestors before him, he\nwas a good Catholic. If so, his faith sat lightly upon him, and Catholic\nor heretic, he hated the Spaniards with a mortal hate.\u201d\n\nThe English made the Catholic Church responsible for the massacre of\nthe Huguenots. The account of Le Moyne, published in England under the\npatronage of Raleigh, inflamed anew the public mind against Catholicity,\nand the terrible words of the Spanish leader, _El que fuere herege\nmorira_, were regarded as the echo of the church. Consequently the\navengers of the deed were supposed to be necessarily Protestants--not\nonly De Gourgues, but all his followers. Nor is this all. The whole\nfamily of the latter is said to have been converted to Calvinism in the\nXVIth century.\n\nM. le Vicomte de Gourgues, the present representative of the family,\ndesirous of vindicating the orthodoxy of his ancestors, and, in\nparticular, of so illustrious a relative as Dominique de Gourgues, has\ngiven to the public incontrovertible proofs that the whole family was\neminently Catholic, that Dominique lived and died in the faith, and that\nhis expedition to Florida was a patriotic deed in which religious zeal\nhad no part. He felt the anger of a man of honor against the cruelty of\nthe Spaniards. A great national injury was to be avenged, and he was too\ngood a soldier not to wish to be foremost in the conflict. And perhaps\nsome private motives excited him to vengeance, for he had been taken\nhimself by the Spaniards, and narrowly escaped death at their hands,\nand could therefore feel for these new victims of their barbarity.\nMoreover, his expedition was the expression of public sentiment in\nFrance concerning the massacre--the mere outburst of the electric current\nthat ran over the country at such an insult to the honor of France.\nThe assertion that De Gourgues was a Protestant is a modern invention\nwithout a shadow of foundation. None of the old French historians express\nany doubt as to his orthodoxy. Even the romances in which he figures\nrepresent him as a Catholic, as if his religion were a prominent feature\nin his character. Some years ago, a novel was published in the _Si\u00e8cle_\ncalled \u201cLa Peine du Talion,\u201d of which the Chevalier de Gourgues is the\nhero, and on his Catholicity turns the interest of the story. He is\nrepresented as a brilliant cavalier who has served in the wars of Italy,\nand is now an officer in the service of the Duke of Guise, whose favor\nhe enjoys. An attachment is formed between him and Estiennette de N\u00e9rac,\nwhose hand he requests in marriage. The Seigneur de N\u00e9rac expresses great\nsurprise that Messire Dominique should forget the insuperable abyss there\nis between an ardent Catholic in the service of the house of Lorraine and\nhis Protestant daughter.\n\nBut for more serious proofs. And first let us examine the orthodoxy of\nDominique de Gourgues\u2019 family.\n\nThat his parents were Catholics is proved by the list of those who\nappeared in the ban and arri\u00e8re-ban at Mont-de-Marsan, March 4, 1537.\n\u201cNoble Jean de Gourgues, Seigneur de Gaube and Monlezun, present at the\nconvocation held in this town by order of the king.\u201d And Isabella de\nLau, his wife, requests in her will \u201cto be buried in the church of the\nconvent of the Cordeliers at Mont-de-Marsan,[164] before the chapel of\nthe Conception where the ancestors of the said De Gourgues are buried.\u201d\nIt is sure, therefore, that Dominique was baptized in the Catholic Church\nat Mont-de-Marsan.\n\nDominique and his brother Ogier left their native place in early life\nand established themselves at Bordeaux. The former was never married,\nand seems to have made his home with his brother, to whom he was greatly\nattached. At the ch\u00e2teau de Vayries there were, a few years ago, four\nold evergreen trees of some foreign species, at the corners of the lawn\nbefore the terrace, said by tradition to have been planted by the hero of\nFlorida.\n\nOgier became king\u2019s counsellor in the council of state, and president\nof the treasury in Guienne, and, after serving his country faithfully\nunder five kings, died full of years and honors at his house in Bordeaux,\n\u201cwithout leaving the like of his quality in Guyenne.\u201d He took part in\nall the affairs of the province, in the accounts of which we find many\nthings significant of his religious convictions. Monluc mentions him in\nhis _Commentaries_, as offering to procure wheat and cattle from the\nLandes, on his own credit, when it was proposed to fortify the coast to\ndefeat the projects of the Huguenots. He placed his property as much as\npossible at the disposal of the king. He manifested great interest in the\nreduction of La Rochelle, and lent twenty-three hundred livres to enable\nthe Baron de la Gardie to despatch his galleys to the siege, as is shown\nby the following letter from the king:\n\n\u201cFor the payment of my galleys which I have ordered Baron de la Gardie,\nthe general, to despatch promptly to the coast of Bretagne on a service\nof great importance, \u2026 I write praying you to advance to Sieur Felix\nthe sums I have assigned for this purpose, \u2026 trusting that, as in the\npast you have never spared your means and substance in my service,\nyou will spare them still less in this urgent necessity. I have been\nadvised, however, by the said Sieur de la Gardie that you have not yet\nlent your aid, which I am persuaded proceeds from want of means; but\nwell knowing the credit you have in my city of Bordeaux, and trusting to\nyour good-will, I send this line to beg you, in continuation of the good\nand acceptable services I have heretofore received from you in public\naffairs, and on other occasions which have presented themselves, to do\nme likewise this other in so extreme a need, to advance and place in the\nhands of the said Felix the sums I have assigned in aid, not only of\nthe said Sieur de la Gardie, but the other captains of my said galleys,\nwhich I will pay and reimburse you, or those who by your favor and credit\nshall have advanced them.\u2026 (Hoping) that you have lessened in no way the\nextreme affection you have had till the present, in all that relates to\nmy service, which I will not forget in due time or fail to recognize,\n\u2026 to gratify you in every way possible, \u2026 I finish praying God, Sr. de\nGourgues, to have you in his holy keeping.--Given at Gaillon the 24th of\nMay, 1571.\n\n                                                               \u201cCHARLES.\u201d\n\nThe appeal was not in vain, as we have said.\n\nM\u00e1r\u00e9chal de Matignon, in a letter to the king in 1585, renders the\nfollowing fine testimony concerning Ogier de Gourgues:\n\n\u201cSire, the pestilence in this city continues to such a degree that there\nis not a person, with the means of living elsewhere, who has not left it,\nand there are now only the Srs. Premier President and De Gourgues, who\nremain out of the special affection they have for your service.\u201d\n\nOgier de Gourgues had two sons, Antoine and Marc Antoine. Antoine, the\nelder, presumed by MM. Haag and others to be a Protestant, is thus spoken\nof in the _Chronique Bourdeloyse_, published in 1672:\n\n\u201cThe ch\u00e2teau de Castillon, in M\u00e9doc, having been surprised by some\ntroops, has been restored to the obedience of the king and the Seigneur\nde Matignon in eight days by Capt. de Gourgues, _mestre de camp_ of a\nFrench regiment, and cousin of him who attacked the Spaniards in Florida.\u201d\n\nAnd in another place: \u201cAnd after some sorties from the garrison of Blaye,\nin which Capt. de Gourgues, while fighting valiantly, was wounded, and\nafter some days died, the said Seigneur de Matignon raised the siege.\u201d\n\nOf course, Marshal de Matignon\u2019s lieutenant could not be a Huguenot.\nBesides, the account of the expenses at the grand funeral services of\nCapt. Antoine de Gourgues, attended by all the religious communities in\nBordeaux, is still extant. By this we find seven livres are paid the\nCarmelite monks for their services three days, and the use of several\nobjects for the funeral; three crowns to the canons of St. Andr\u00e9 for\nHigh Mass and the burial service; twenty sols to the Brothers of the\nObservance for three days\u2019 assistance and the use of robes; four crowns\nto the religious of the Chapelet for aiding in the three days\u2019 service;\nfive sols to the Brothers of Mary for the same; two crowns to twenty-four\npriests who recited prayers around the bier; fifty-one sols each to four\nwomen who dressed the body and remained with it day and night; one sol\napiece given to three thousand poor on the day of burial, and six deniers\nthe following day, etc., etc. There is a _chapelle ardente_, hung with\nmourning, emblazoned with the family arms, the bells are tolled two days,\nand all the clergy and poor follow him to the grave, with the most solemn\nrites of the Catholic Church.\n\nMarc Antoine, the second son of Ogier de Gourgues, was a zealous\ndefender of the Catholic faith. He travelled all through Europe in his\nyouth, studied theology at the Roman college, and, gifted with uncommon\neloquence, though he did not take Orders, held public controversies\nagainst Calvinism and a discussion with Scaliger, as is shown by the\neulogy at his funeral, which took place at Bordeaux. Some years after\nthose public vindications of the Catholic faith, he went to England,\nwhere he was received with great distinction by Queen Elizabeth, a fact\nworthy of notice, as the favor she manifested to Dominique has been\nconsidered as an argument in proof of his Protestant proclivities. She\nliked to gather around her men of certain celebrity, and those who\nwere in her good graces were not always in sympathy with her religious\nnotions, as is shown in the case of Marc Antoine.\n\nMarc Antoine became Premier President of the Parliament of Bordeaux, and\nwas charged with all the preparations relative to the fulfilment of the\nmarriage between Louis XIII. and the Infanta of Austria--a difficult\nmission, because the Huguenots, opposed to the alliance, were resolved\nto frustrate it. M. O\u2019Reilly, in his _Histoire de Bordeaux_, says: \u201cThey\nendeavored to seize the person of the king in the environs of Guitre,\nbut he arrived at Bordeaux without any disaster, thanks to the excellent\narrangements made by President de Gourgues.\u201d\n\nMarc Antoine not only made foundations in favor of the Jesuits and\nCarmelites, but his second wife, Olive de Lestonnac, left thirty thousand\nlivres to the Recollects of Sainte Foy, to build a residence where they\ncould labor for the conversion of the Huguenots. It would seem as if\nevery member of the family were animated with a particular zeal for the\nCatholic religion.\n\nIn 1690 we find Jacques Joseph de Gourgues Bishop of Bazas.\n\nAfter the foregoing proofs, no possible doubt can be felt concerning\nthe stanch Catholicity of the De Gourgues family. As for Dominique,\nbut little is known of his life previous to his expedition to Florida.\nThough he afterwards belonged to the royal navy, it appears that he first\nserved on land and took part in the Italian campaign under Mar\u00e9chal de\nStrozzi. His last feat of arms in Italy, says one of his biographers,\nwas to sustain a siege, in 1557, with thirty men against a corps of\nSpanish troops. The fort held was taken by assault, and the garrison all\nslaughtered, except De Gourgues, who was spared, to be sent ignominiously\nto row on the galleys. His boat being captured by the Turks on the coast\nof Sicily, he was taken to Rhodes and thence to Constantinople. But\nhis fate was not changed; he continued to serve in the galleys. Again\nputting to sea, he was taken and set at liberty by Mathurin Romegas,\ncommander of the galleys of Malta and Knight of S. John of Jerusalem.\nThe deliverer of the future hero of Florida was likewise a Gascon. His\ntombstone may still be seen in the nave of the nuns\u2019 church of Trinit\u00e0\nde\u2019 Monti at Rome, the inscription half effaced by the feet of the\nworshippers.\n\nDominique now returned to France, and after a voyage to Brazil and the\nIndies, he entered the service of the house of Lorraine, who employed him\non several private occasions against the Huguenots. His expedition to\nFlorida did not take place till the year 1567. We have seen him fighting\nagainst the Spaniards in Italy, and subjected by them to the utmost\ndegradation. It is not surprising he burned to avenge the murder of his\ncompanions-in-arms and the severe treatment he had endured, as well\nas to wipe out the stain on the national honor caused by the massacre\nof his fellow-countrymen in Florida. He had too narrowly escaped the\nSpanish sword himself not to feel the deepest sympathy in their fate. He\nafterwards drew up himself an account of his expedition, which is full\nof thrilling interest. It has been published, but the original is in the\nBiblioth\u00e8que Imp\u00e9riale at St. Germain.\n\nThe establishment of a French colony in Florida grew out of the civil\nand religious contests of the XVIth century. Admiral de Coligni, with\nthe view of providing his co-religionists a safe asylum beyond the\nseas, induced Charles IX. to allow five or six hundred Huguenots under\nJean Ribault to embark at Dieppe, Feb. 18, 1561, in order to establish\nthemselves in Florida. They landed at the mouth of the Rio San Mateo on\nthe 1st of May, and built a fort on an island, which they called Fort\nCharles, in honor of their sovereign. The return of Ribault to France led\nto a relaxation of discipline, and the consequent ruin of the colony.\nOther companies, also favored by Coligni, were sent in 1564 and 1565,\nunder Laudonni\u00e8re and the same Ribault, to place the colony on a better\nfooting. Laudonni\u00e8re secured the friendship of the Indians, whose chief,\nSatirova, hastened to offer his support. But the destitution to which the\ncolony was reduced weakened the attachment of the natives, and some acts\nof piracy exasperated the Spaniards, who regarded them as intruders, and\nresolved on their destruction.\n\nPedro Melendez appeared with six vessels before Fort Caroline and\nsummoned Laudonni\u00e8re and Ribault to surrender, promising to spare those\nwho were Catholics, but declaring all heretics should be put to death.\nThey defended themselves valiantly, and even took the offensive, and\nhad it not been for a tempest, perhaps bravery would have won the day\nover the number of the enemy. But we need not give details which are\nfamiliar to all. The fort fell into the hands of Melendez, and all,\nexcept Laudonni\u00e8re and one of his companions who evaded the search, were\nput to death, \u201cnot as French, but as heretics,\u201d if we are to believe an\ninscription left on the spot. Nothing could be more horrible than this\natrocious murder of four hundred inoffensive colonists. The Spaniards\neven tore out the eyes of their victims, stuck them on the point of their\ndaggers, and hurled them against the French on the water. The skin of\nRibault was sent to the King of Spain. And to crown so barbarous a deed,\nthey heaped together the bodies of the men, women, and children, and\nkindling a great fire, reduced them to ashes, with savage howlings.\n\nWhatever the zeal of the Spanish for the Catholic religion, we may\nnaturally suppose it was not the only motive that animated them on this\noccasion. Their eagerness to take possession of the country and fortify\nit, instead of requesting Charles IX. to send a Catholic colony to\nreplace the Huguenots, shows that other motives influenced them. Religion\nwas only a cloak. Moreri, in his _Dictionnaire Historique_, 1712, says:\n\u201cThey hung the French under the pretext they were Lutherans.\u201d\n\nLaudonni\u00e8re, who escaped, brought the fearful details of this butchery\nto France. The rage was universal. Notwithstanding the antipathy of the\ncourt to the religion of the majority of the victims, it has been too\nstrongly asserted that all sense of national honor was lost in view of\nthe religious aspect of the case. The government of Charles IX. was too\nweak to insist on complete reparation, but his letters to the French\nAmbassador at Madrid prove he demanded Philip II. should chastise those\nwho were guilty of the massacre.[165] No reparation, however, was made,\nand the cruelties of Melendez not only remained unpunished, but he was\nloaded with honors.\n\nP\u00e8re Daniel, in his _History_, says: \u201cThis inhumanity (of Melendez),\ninstead of being punished by the government of Spain when complaint was\nmade, was praised, and those who had a share in it rewarded. The unhappy\nstate of affairs in the kingdom (France), in consequence of the civil\nwars, prevented the king from taking vengeance, and three years passed\naway without the court\u2019s thinking of exacting justice. Capt. Gourgues,\na man who sought to distinguish himself, and loved glory more than\nanything else, resolved to avenge the insult to the French nation, and\nwithout looking for any other reward but success and renown, undertook\nthe expedition at his own expense in spite of the danger and every\nexpectation of being disavowed at court.\u2026 This deed, that may be numbered\namong the most memorable ever done of the kind, wiped out the affront\ninflicted on the French nation.\u201d\n\nAnd the account from the Imperial library says: \u201cThe traitors and\nmurderers, instead of being blamed and punished in Spain, were honored\nwith great estates and dignities. All the French nation expected such\nan injury to the king and the whole nation would soon be avenged by the\npublic authorities, but this expectation being disappointed for the space\nof three years, it was hoped some private individual would be found to\nundertake a deed so essential to the honor and reputation of France.\nThere were many who would have been glad of the renown to be won by such\nan enterprise, but it could not be undertaken without great expense; the\nresult, for many reasons, was uncertain, hazardous, and full of peril;\nand even if successfully executed, it might not be exempt from calumny.\nAnd it was difficult to find any one willing to incur this calumny by the\nloss of his property, and an infinite number of difficulties and dangers.\u201d\n\nIt was not Laudonni\u00e8re who went to take vengeance on the Spaniards. It\nwas no agent of Coligni\u2019s. It was not even one of the Huguenots, though\ntheir brothers\u2019 blood cried from the ground, who lent his ear to the\nterrible appeal. No; the brave heart who atoned for the weakness of the\nsovereign belonged to a devoted Catholic family of the Landes. It was a\nsoldier who had served under the Strozzi in Italy, and afterwards under\nthe Guises in France, who lost sight of religious distinctions in view of\nhis country\u2019s disgrace, and nobly resolved to become the avenger of the\nHuguenots.\n\nDominique de Gourgues began his preparations early in the year 1567. He\nsold some of his property, or, as stated by others, his brother Ogier\nadvanced the money necessary for fitting out the expedition. He armed two\nvessels small enough to enter the large rivers, and a patache which, when\nthere was lack of wind, could be propelled by oars. He manned them with\neighty sailors and one hundred and fifty soldiers, among whom we find\nsome of the noble, as well as plebeian, names of Gascony. Monluc, the\ngovernor of Bordeaux, allowed him to depart on a pretended expedition to\nthe coast of Africa. It was the 22d of August. De Gourgues even concealed\nthe object of the voyage from his followers, which shows how unreasonable\nit is to regard them as Protestants going to avenge a Protestant cause,\nas many suppose. The names of only a few of them are known, and nothing\nin particular of these. Capt. Cazenove, of a noble family near Agen that\nstill exists, commanded one of the vessels. Another is called Bierre\nby MM. Haag, and De Berre by M. de Barbot, and one of the captains of\nthe Baron de la Gardie\u2019s galleys was named Loys de Berre, of course a\nstanch Catholic. But we see no reason for religious distinctions in\nthe case. The important thing was to have brave, resolute men. And it\nis certain they knew nothing of the object of the expedition till they\narrived at Cape St. Antoine. It is said when they learned it, \u201cthey were\nat first surprised and dissatisfied,\u201d which does not look much like\nsympathy for slaughtered co-religionists. Parkman says: \u201cThere (in Cuba)\nhe gathered his followers about him and addressed them with his fiery\nGascon eloquence.\u2026 He painted with angry rhetoric the butcheries of Fort\nCaroline and St. Augustine. \u2018What disgrace,\u2019 he cried, \u2018if such an insult\nshould pass unpunished! What glory to us if we avenge it! To this I have\ndevoted my fortune. I relied on you. I thought you jealous enough of your\ncountry\u2019s glory to sacrifice life itself in a cause like this. Was I\ndeceived? I will show you the way; I will be always at your head; I will\nbear the brunt of the danger. Will you refuse to follow me?\u2019 The sparks\nfell among gunpowder. The combustible French nature bursts into flame.\u201d\n\nThere is not a word in this address of their being Huguenots, though free\nto express his sentiments at such a distance from their native land. The\nonly appeal is--glory and France.\n\nIt is unnecessary to relate the wonderful _coup-de-main_ by which the\nthree forts of the Spanish were taken. Every one knows how he hung up\nthe thirty Spaniards who were left, on the same trees on which his\nfellow-countrymen had been hung, and in place of the inscription left by\nMelendez, he graved with a red-hot iron on a pine slab: \u201cThis is not done\nto Spaniards, but to treacherous robbers and assassins.\u201d One of these\nvictims confessed the justice of the act, as he had hung five of the\nHuguenots with his own hand.\n\nThe _Revue des Deux Mondes_ calls the retaliation of the bold Landais\n\u201csavage,\u201d and certainly grave moral reasons can be brought against such\na proceeding. But everything was exceptional in this historic episode,\nand we must not regard it according to the ideas of the present age. The\ndisinterested and heroic daring of De Gourgues cannot be denied, nor can\nany one help applauding his patriotic wish to repair the injured honor of\nthe nation. That he looked upon his deed as one of righteous vengeance\nis sure. How solemn and religious is his language in addressing his\nfollowers after his victory:\n\n\u201cMy friends, let us give thanks to God for the success he has accorded\nto our enterprise. It was he who saved us from danger in the tempest off\nCape Finibus Terr\u00e6, at Hispaniola, Cuba, and the river of Halimacany!\nIt was he who inclined the hearts of the savages to aid us! It was he\nwho blinded the understanding of the Spaniards, so they were unable to\ndiscover our forces, or avail themselves of their own! They were four\nto our one, strongly intrenched, and well provided with artillery, and\nsupplies of food and ammunition. We only had justice on our side, and\nyet we have conquered them with but little trouble. It is not to our\nstrength, but to God alone we owe the victory. Let us thank him, my\nfriends, and never forget the benefits we have received from him. Let us\npray him to continue his favor towards us, to guide us on our way back\nand preserve us from all danger; pray him also to vouchsafe to dispose\nthe hearts of men so that the many dangers we have incurred and the\nfatigues we have endured may find grace and favor before our king and\nbefore all France, as we had no other motive but the service of the king\nand the honor of our country!\u201d\n\nThey set sail May 3, and arrived at La Rochelle the 6th of June. De\nGourgues went immediately to Bordeaux to render an account of his\nvoyage to Monluc, who, as P\u00e8re Daniel says, loaded him with praises and\ncaresses, which, with his antipathy to Huguenotism, he would hardly\nhave done had De Gourgues been a Huguenot in the service of Huguenots.\nIf the latter did not inform him before his departure of the object of\nhis expedition, it was because he knew Monluc was anxious to avoid all\noccasion of rupture with Spain. MM. Haag say Monluc had received orders\nto forbid all expeditions of the kind. And though De Gourgues did not\ndoubt the approbation of the governor, he did not wish to compromise him\nin the eyes of the king.\n\nDe Gourgues received not only a flattering welcome from Monluc but the\nacclamations of the entire nation. The wish for vengeance had been\nuniversal, and he was applauded for realizing it. Perhaps it was this\noutburst of patriotism that forgot all religious animosities which led\nthat sagacious diplomatist, Fran\u00e7ois de Noailles, at this very time\nBishop of Dax, a place not far from Mont-de-Marsan, to assure the king\nthe best means of putting an end to the civil dissensions of the country\nwas to declare war against Spain.\n\nHad De Gourgues been a Huguenot he would probably have disposed of his\nwar prizes at La Rochelle, where he first touched, thereby rendering his\nparty a service by supplying them with arms. Instead of that, he took\nthem to Bordeaux, and Monluc bought them to arm the city against the\nHuguenots, as is shown by existing documents estimating their value,\ndated Aug. 27, 1568.\n\n\u201cThis day appeared before me Capt. Dominique de Gourgues requesting the\nappraisement of nine pieces of artillery, one cannon, a culverin, and\nthree _moyennes_, which he has brought to this said city from the voyage\nhe has lately made, and taken in the fort the French had built, but which\nwas afterwards seized by one Pierre Malendes, a Spaniard.\u2026 Presented\nthemselves before us to make the said appraisement and valuation: Antoine\nde Cassagnet, lord of Cassagnet and Tilhadet, Knight of the Order of the\nKing, and governor of the city and country of Bordeaux in the absence\nof Sr. de Monluc; Jehan de Monluc, Knight of the Order of St. John of\nJerusalem, gentleman in ordinary of the king\u2019s chamber, and colonel of\nthe infantry of Guienne; Jacques Descar, Knight of the Order of the King,\ncaptain of fifty men-at-arms of his ordinance, captain and governor of\nthe Ch\u00e2teau du Ha in the said city and province of Guienne; Charles de\nMonferrand, also Knight of the Order of the King; Pierre de Savignac,\nalso Knight of the same order; and Loys de Lur, Seigneur d\u2019Uza, whom,\netc.\u201d\n\nAll these persons to whom De Gourgues thus confided his interests were\nCatholic lords of Guienne, whose religious convictions could not be\ndoubted, and with whom he must have been on intimate terms to induce them\nto take the trouble to estimate the value of his war-prizes.\n\nBut it is said Charles IX. and his court condemned De Gourgues\u2019 act. M.\nde Lacaze, in his biography, says: \u201cHe received from his compatriots\nthe liveliest testimonies of admiration and gratitude; but it was not\nthe same at court, where his courage and achievements were rewarded\nby ingratitude and persecution. The Spanish ambassador demanded his\nhead, and the heroic Frenchman was obliged to conceal himself at Rouen\nto escape death. He was living in a state bordering on want when Queen\nElizabeth offered him command of a fleet she was going to send to the\nassistance of King Antonio of Portugal; but enfeebled by age, chagrin,\nand fatigue, Gourgues was unable to profit by so brilliant an offer. He\ndied on his way to London.\u201d\n\nMany of these statements need to be greatly modified, as we shall show.\n\nDe Thou says: \u201cAt his return he is badly received by the court, which is\n_wholly Spanish_. The king treats him as a disturber of the public peace.\u201d\n\nThere is no doubt the king feared a rupture with Spain, in consequence\nof the civil dissensions in his kingdom. M. de Monluc, in his\n_Commentaries_, alluding to his son\u2019s expedition to Africa, expressed a\nfear of its leading to disturbance with Spain. Personally, he desired\nwar, but did not wish him to draw upon himself the censure of the\ngovernment. What he says explains the reception of De Gourgues at a court\nwhere Spanish influence predominated, and leaves no doubt the latter was\nonly received as the son of Monluc himself would have been, had he given\ncause for war with Spain. He was, however, soon honorably received into\nservice, for we find him, in August, 1568, attached to the royal navy; so\nhe could not, as he states, go to Dax, being \u201cprevented by the affairs of\nthe king and the service of the galleys.\u201d\n\nWe find De Gourgues\u2019 vessel, the _Charles_, named in an act of October\n22, 1568, in which it is said that Loys de Lur, Vicomte d\u2019Uza, was\n\u201cgeneral-in-chief of the army, and of the vessels _Charles_, _Catherine_,\netc., which will at once set sail by order of M. de Monluc.\u201d These\nvessels were to guard the mouth of the Gironde.\n\nThere are still several documents in the archives of the department of\nthe Gironde which refer to De Gourgues\u2019 official duties at this time.\nFrom them we give the following extracts:\n\n\u201cKnow all men that on this 14th of March, 1572, appeared before me,\nJehan Castaigne, etc., for the purpose of selling by these presents to\nDominique de Gourgues, squire and gentleman in ordinary of the king\u2019s\nchamber, \u2026 four hundred quintals of biscuit, good and salable, for the\nsum of six livres and fifteen sols for each of said quintals.[166]\u2026\u201d\n\nArc\u00e8re speaks of an armament fitted out at Brouage by Philip de Strozzi,\nas if to ravage the Spanish coasts of America--a cloak to his real\ndesign. He provided this fleet with provisions, munitions of war, etc.,\nwith no appearance of haste, though so late in the season. Coligni,\ntherefore, was warned.\n\nWe find a letter from Charles IX. to Dominique de Gourgues on the\nsubject, written fifteen days after St. Bartholomew\u2019s Day, when there was\nno need of concealing his real designs:\n\n    \u201cCAPTAIN GOURGUES: As I have written my cousin, the Sire de\n    Strozzy, to approve his appointing you to go on a voyage of\n    discovery, with the general consent of the company, I trust\n    this letter will find you ready to set sail. I beg to warn you,\n    before setting out, not to touch at any place belonging to my\n    brother-in-law, or any prince friendly to me, and with whom I\n    am at peace. Above all, fear to disobey me if you desire my\n    approbation, and the more, because I have more need than I once\n    had of preserving the friendship of all my neighbors. Conduct\n    yourself, therefore, wisely, and according to my intentions,\n    and I will remember the service you do me. Praying God, Captain\n    Gourgues, to have you in his keeping.\n\n                                                             CHARLES.\n\n    \u201cPARIS, September 14, 1572.\u201d\n\nThis letter proves the king\u2019s serious intention of sending the fleet\nabroad, and contains a somewhat severe warning not to repeat his bold\ndeeds in Florida.\n\nD\u2019Aubign\u00e9 declares that these vessels were really intended to attack the\nSpanish settlements in America, but their destination was changed, and\nthey served at the siege of La Rochelle, \u201cto the great displeasure of\nthose who were hoping for a voyage at sea.\u201d\n\nArc\u00e8re, in his _Histoire de la Rochelle_, thus speaks of the _Charles_\nat the siege of that city: \u201cThe king\u2019s fleet was composed of six galleys\nand nine vessels. The largest of these vessels was called the _Charles_.\nThe admiral\u2019s, named the _Grand Biscayen_, was under the Vicomte d\u2019Uza,\ncommander of the fleet in the absence of the Baron de la Gardie.\nMontgomery advanced as if to engage in combat, but he encountered full\nfire from the enemy\u2019s fleet; the vessel he commanded, pierced by a ball,\nwould have sunk without speedy assistance, and he decided to retreat.\u201d\n\nThat Dominique de Gourgues was in command of the _Charles_ on this\noccasion is proved by a document in possession of the present Vicomte\nde Gourgues, which states that Dominique, by an act signed by the king\nin council, August 10, 1578, was paid the sum of seven thousand crowns\n\u201cfor services rendered at and before the siege of La Rochelle with his\nvessel, the _Charles_, and a patache called the _Desperada_.\u201d\n\nThis is the latest known document referring to the public services of\nDominique de Gourgues. There is, however, another letter from the king\nreferring to another service a few years previous, and confirming the\nfact that the _Charles_ was under his command: \u201cCapt. Gourgues: After\ndeliberating about using some of the largest and best vessels of my\nnavy before the city of La Rochelle--in the number of which is the\n_Charles_, which belongs to you--for the embarkation of four thousand\nsoldiers intended for Poland, I have concluded to send you this present\nto notify you at once of my intention, praying you above all, as you love\nthe welfare of my service, to give orders that your vessel be equipped\nas soon as it can be done, and ordered to Havre de Grace, where it is\nnecessary to arrive by the 12th or 13th of August next; and, that you\narrive with greater security, it will be expedient for your vessel to\njoin the others ordered on the same voyage, that you may go in company\nto said Havre. I beg you, therefore, to proceed for this purpose to\nBordeaux, where the Sire de Berre is to despatch twelve cannons and\nother arms, that are also to go to said Havre with all speed. Endeavor\nto render the service I expect of you in that place. Praying God that he\nhave you, Captain Gourgues, in his holy and safe keeping,\n\n                                                                \u201cCHARLES.\n\n\u201cGAILLON, July 2, 1573.\u201d\n\nSuch are some of the records of the public services of Dominique de\nGourgues after the Florida expedition. Of course his achievements\nwere not rewarded as they should have been. Pedro Melendez was created\nmarquis for his barbarous deed and enriched with estates. The brave\nLandais, who took vengeance, merited far more. But, as we have shown,\nhe still remained in the king\u2019s service, and retained, or regained, his\nconfidence. And his exploit has always been regarded as one of the most\nbrilliant episodes of French history. Ch\u00e2teaubriand, blaming the author\nof the _Henriade_ for having recourse to threadbare examples from ancient\ntimes, says \u201cthe Chevalier de Gourgues offered him one of the most\nthrilling of episodes.\u201d\n\nWe find a private paper dated January 14, 1580, in which Dominique de\nGourgues gives Romarine de Mesmes, _damoyselle_, his aunt, power and\nauthority to receive the fruits, profits, and emoluments of all his\ncattle and real estate in the Vicomt\u00e9 de Marsan, which shows that he did\nnot sell all his property to provide for the expedition to Florida, or\ndie in want, as has been stated.\n\nQueen Elizabeth of England offered him command of a fleet to aid Don\nAntonio of Portugal in the war against Spain; but this honor is no\nproof of his being regarded by her as a Protestant, but rather of his\nwell-known hatred of the Spanish, for it was to aid one Catholic nation\nagainst another. It was on his way to take command of this fleet that he\nfell ill at Tours, in which he died in the year 1583. He was buried with\nhonor in the abbatial church of S. Martin of Tours--the crowning proof\nthat Dominique de Gourgues was a genuine Catholic.\n\n\nTHE LADDER OF LIFE.\n\nThere are a great many rounds in the ladder of life, though simple\nyouths have always fancied that a few gallant steps would take them to\nthe summit of riches and power. Now the top-round of this ladder is not\nthe presidency of any railroad or country, nor even the possession of\nrenowned genius; for it oddly happens that when one sits down upon it,\nthen, be he ever so high up in life, he has really begun to descend.\nThose who put velvet cushions to their particular rounds, and squat at\nease with a view of blocking up the rise of other good folks, do not know\nthey are going down the other side of the ladder; but such is the fact.\nMany thrifty men have, in their own minds, gone far up its life-steps,\nwhen, verily, they were descending them fast; and poor people without\nnumber have in all men\u2019s eyes been travelling downward, though in truth\nthey have journeyed higher by descent than others could by rising. So\nmany slippery and delusive ways has this magical ladder that we may say\nit is as various as men\u2019s minds. One may slip through its rounds out of\nthe common way of ascent, and find himself going down when he ought to be\ngoing up; and vain toilers have ever fancied that they were mounting to\nthe clouds when everybody else must have seen they were still at the same\nold rounds. Ambitious heroes have made the same mistake, if indeed the\nparticular ladder which they have imagined for themselves has not itself\nbeen sliding down all the while they have been seeking vainglory by its\nsteps.\n\nThe ladder of life is an infinite ladder. It is full of indirections to\nsuit the abilities, and of attractions to suit the tastes of climbers.\nYou may work at a forge, or sail the sea, or trade in money and goods,\nor hear operas, or write romances, or wander over mountains, or go to\nchurch, while living thereon; but you must go up or go down, and, anyway,\nyou will have some toiling to do. Everywhere on the ladder is trouble\nsave in careful steps, and since human progress is so illusory, many\nhonest persons rather feared to fall than aspire.\n\n\nNEW PUBLICATIONS.\n\n    THE SPIRIT OF FAITH; or, What must I Do to Believe? Five\n    Lectures delivered at S. Peter\u2019s, Cardiff, by the Right\n    Reverend Bishop Hedley, O.S.B. New York: The Catholic\n    Publication Society. 1875.\n\nWhen we noticed these lectures last month, we had not found time to do\nmore than glance at them. But having since discovered their very uncommon\nmerit, we feel bound to let our readers know it.\n\nNever--we do not say seldom, but never--have we seen such a happy\ncombination of simplicity with force. The bishop\u2019s English, by itself,\nis a treat. His style has all the ease of conversation; here and\nthere rising into eloquence, or delighting us with master-strokes of\ndescription and illustration. Then, as to the argument of his book, it is\nso amiable and courteous that no one can take offence; yet the points are\nput with stern fidelity and driven home with ruthless cogency.\n\nThe title speaks for itself. The \u201c_spirit_ of faith\u201d is precisely what\nis least understood by non-Catholics; and again, \u201cWhat they must _do_ to\nbelieve\u201d is the thing they most need to be shown.\n\nWhen accused of being \u201cmental slaves,\u201d etc., we justly reply that, on the\ncontrary, we are the freest of the free, that \u201ctruth\u201d alone \u201cmakes free\u201d;\nbut perhaps we are apt to forget--or rather, we fail to insist--that\nthe \u201cspirit of faith\u201d is, nevertheless, \u201ca spirit of lowliness\u201d (as the\nbishop says)--\u201cof childlike obedience, and of \u2018captivity\u2019\u201d; that there\nmust be \u201ca taking up of a yoke, a bowing of the head, a humbling of the\nheart.\u201d It will therefore do Catholics good, as well as Protestants, to\nread the second of these lectures on \u201cWhat faith is.\u201d So, again, when\nallowing for the strength of prejudice in alienating the Protestant mind,\nwe are in danger of false charity--by forgetting that prejudice may\neasily be _a sin_; and that _wilfulness_ plays a large part in popular\n\u201cignorance\u201d nowadays. The third and fourth lectures, on \u201cPrejudice\u201d and\n\u201cWilfulness\u201d as \u201cObstacles to Faith,\u201d are the best of their kind we\nremember to have seen, and we are sure that many Catholics need to read\nthem--nor only for the sake of their Protestant friends.\n\nBut, of course, it is chiefly for the sake of Protestant friends that\nwe wish to see these lectures in the hands of our readers. The book is\nsomething for an earnest man to go wild about. Its cost is little; and we\nhope it will soon be scattered broadcast over the land.\n\n    RELIGION AND SCIENCE IN THEIR RELATION TO PHILOSOPHY. An\n    Essay on the Present State of the Sciences. Read before the\n    Philosophical Society of Washington. By Charles W. Shields,\n    D.D., Professor of the Harmony of Science and Revealed Religion\n    in Princeton College, N. J. New York: Scribner, Armstrong & Co.\n    1875.\n\nThe trustees of Princeton College have deserved commendation and given a\ngood example to other colleges by establishing the chair filled by Dr.\nShields. The learned doctor is evidently applying himself with zeal and\nindustry to the studies which will fit him to teach with ability in his\nimportant branch of science--one which demands an almost encyclop\u00e6dic\nknowledge of many sciences specifically different from each other.\nHe informs us that he is preparing an extensive work on the topics\npresented in the essay before us, which is certainly a most laudable\nundertaking, and one in which we hope he may achieve a successful and\nuseful result. In the present essay the author shows a very considerable\namount of reading and thought, some skill in generalization, and a good\ndeal of that felicity of diction which is requisite in making such\nabstruse themes as those which relate to natural and theological science\nattractive and intelligible even to the mass of cultivated persons.\n\nThe distinctive and principal thesis defended by Dr. Shields is, that\nphilosophy is the only umpire to determine controversies in which the\nopposing parties advocate what are professedly revealed and professedly\nscientific facts or truths, respectively, in a mutually destructive or\nhostile sense to each other. To a certain extent, and in a correctly\ndefined sense, we cordially agree with him, and in this sense the high\noffice of philosophy, as the queen of all rational science, is affirmed\nand defended by all Catholic philosophers and theologians worthy of\nthe name. The five primary natural sciences--physics, mathematics,\nmetaphysics, logic, and ethics--are certainly none of them subaltern one\nto another, yet the other four are subordinate to metaphysics, because\nits object has a precedence in the order of the knowable, and its\nprinciples furnish the other sciences with their rational foundation.\nNevertheless, it is evident, and must be admitted by every one who\nbelieves in a certain, clear, and surely ascertainable revelation of\nfacts and truths by God, which is supernatural, that there is a science\nabove metaphysics in excellence--viz., theology, which dominates over\nit in so far that the latter science cannot reject any of its dogmas.\nThe sciences cannot therefore properly be said to be separate from each\nother, although they are really distinct. All rational sciences are\nsubalternated to one or more of the five primaries, and thus subordinated\nto metaphysics, which is subordinated to theology. We consider that\nthe author is mistaken in asserting that a \u201chealthful separation and\nprogress\u201d marked the first stage of the history of the sciences since\nthe Reformation. If by separation he means distinction only, and the\nfree development in each science of its own proper principles by its\nproper methods, this distinction was recognized and acted on before\nthe Reformation, as may be seen by consulting the great master of the\nschools, S. Thomas. Some of the sciences have made great progress since\nthat event, not by means of, but partly notwithstanding, their violent\nand unnatural separation from metaphysics and theology. In respect to\nmetaphysics and ethics, the Reformation has produced one only direct\nresult, which is a miserable decadence and retrogression, which seems to\nhave nearly reached its lowest term. The sciences can only progress with\nfull liberty towards the perfection of human knowledge when they exist\nin the due harmony and subordination which their nature demands and God\nhas established. The exposition of the order and relation of scientific\nfacts, principles, and deductions in the universal realm of truth, as\na universal or encyclop\u00e6dic science, must, therefore, always place\neach one in its due subordination, and cannot admit of the umpirage of\nan inferior over a superior science, much less of a revolt on the part\nof the inferior. It is absurd to suppose that the inferior tribunal of\nhuman reason can judge a case in which the judgment of God, who is the\nsupreme reason, or of an authority which God has made supreme, comes up\nby appeal. Dr. Shields objects that the great problems in question cannot\nbe settled by the determination of Scripture, councils, the Holy See,\nor any kind of ecclesiastical decisions, because there is no agreement\nrespecting the true sense of Scripture, or universal recognition of a\ncompetent and unerring tribunal. To this we reply that the construction\nof certain and complete science is one thing, and the communication of\nthis science to the ignorant or erring is another. Questions may be\nreally and definitively settled, though great numbers of men may remain\nin culpable or inculpable ignorance or error. The _Syllabus_ has settled\nall that it was intended to settle, so far as the right of the matter is\nconcerned, and for the whole body of men who submit to the infallible\nauthority of the Vicar of Christ. Our knowledge is not in any way\nimpaired by the ignorance of those who are deprived of the benefit of\nthat instruction which Catholics enjoy. But, when we come to controversy,\nwe cannot, of course, attempt to convince or confute the ignorant or\nerring by simply appealing to an authority which the antagonist or\nobjector, or uninstructed inquirer, does not know or recognize to be an\nauthority. We cannot assume the authority of God with an atheist, of\nthe Christian revelation with an infidel, of the Catholic Church with a\nProtestant. One of the fathers says, _Qui fidem exigit, fidem astruat_,\nand Catholic theologians have always acted on that maxim. Dr. Shields, as\na Protestant, has no rational idea of a positive, theological science.\nIt is all mere controversy, and we apprehend that his philosophy will be\nfound to be something equally unsettled and incapable of settling itself.\nIt is a very dangerous thing for any kind of dogmatic Protestantism to\nconcede the rights of reason, and especially so for Calvinism. Princeton\nappears to be losing the old, Presbyterian, Calvinistic spirit, and going\nthe way of the rest of the world towards rationalism. We are not sorry\nfor it, because we hope that the cultivation and exercise of reason will\nprepare the way for a great number of intelligent and educated young men\nto submit their minds to the rightful and ennobling dominion of divine\nfaith. Notwithstanding the defects of Dr. Shields\u2019 essay, we are glad to\nsee him advocate the study of philosophy and exalt its dignity; for the\nsearch after the true philosophy may lead many to find it, and the true\nphilosophy is the handmaid of the true theology, and leads her votaries\nto the feet of her mistress.\n\n    AN ELEMENTARY TREATISE ON PHYSICAL GEOGRAPHY. By D. M. Warren.\n    Revised by A. von Steinwehr. Philadelphia: Cowperthwait & Co.\n\nThis book is one which Catholic teachers should never think of using, and\nagainst which Catholic children should, as far as possible, be specially\nwarned, should it be introduced in any school which they are obliged by\ncircumstances to attend.\n\nIt is probable that the chapter on ethnography, which is specially\nobjectionable, is the composition of the reviser. At least we should so\ninfer from the stupid arrogance which crops out in its last sentence,\nand which is characteristic of the Prussia of to-day, intoxicated with\na temporary success which was, as any careful student of history will\nconclude, intended for the purification of France rather than for the\nexaltation of her opponent. \u201cThe present historical period,\u201d he says, \u201cis\ndirected by the Germanic Aryans, who are the leaders of modern Christian\ncivilization.\u201d Comment is unnecessary. We venture to say that few of our\nor anybody else\u2019s readers have ever come across anything more impudent or\nabsurd. It is an insult to the American people, Catholic or non-Catholic,\nto palm off on them such stuff as this.\n\nHe also implies in another place that the German nation \u201cworked out its\nown civilization.\u201d We have not heard of any nation that has done that,\nbut that the Germans did not is too manifest to admit of argument.\n\nThe principal objection to the chapter, however, is the publication,\nwithout note or comment of course, of two heresies with regard to the\norigin of the human race, as being equally entitled to acceptance with\nthe Mosaic account. One of these is its origin from different original\npairs, the other what is commonly known as Darwinism.\n\nIt is not worth while to give a more extended notice to a book of this\nsort. This species of book can be turned off by any person with a\nsmattering of science who has the leisure for authorship, and who can\nfind a publisher. The market is flooded with such. We should not have\nsaid anything about it had not our attention been called to it by a\nfriend on account of its dangerous character.\n\nIt is high time that we had a complete series of really Catholic\ntext-books which would need no correction, either in their matter or in\nthe spirit in which they are written. We could put up even with inferior\nones for the sake of religion and the faith of our young people; but we\nshould not have to try very hard to come up to the standard of such books\nas the one just noticed.\n\n    NEW PRACTICAL MEDITATIONS for Every Day in the Year, on the\n    Life of Our Lord Jesus Christ. Chiefly intended for the use of\n    Religious Communities. By the Rev. Father Bruno Vercruysse,\n    S.J. The only complete English translation. New York and\n    Cincinnati: Benziger Brothers. 1875.\n\nWe have seen several books of meditations, but none so _business-like_\nas this. The practice of mental prayer is by no means easy to everybody,\nand needs much explanation and suggestive aid. Now, many of the manuals\nwhich are offered as guides prove unsatisfactory to the user by either\nsuggesting too little or making the meditation for him. In the work\nbefore us we see nothing of this kind to regret. The plan is in many\nrespects new. Indeed, the author calls special attention to the preface\nin which he explains his method.\n\nThough \u201cchiefly intended for religious communities,\u201d these meditations\nare well adapted for private individuals, both ecclesiastic and lay.\nMoreover, a single \u201cpoint\u201d of each meditation will be found sufficient by\nitself for those who have not time for more. The work is also \u201cenriched\nby several Novenas and Octaves; Meditations for the First Friday of every\nmonth, and for the days of Communion; \u2026 a new method of hearing Mass,\nand practical remarks on the different parts of meditations; a plan of\nJerusalem with a map of Palestine, showing the different localities\nmentioned throughout the work, and an alphabetical table of contents,\nand of meditations on the Gospels of the Sundays.\u201d Also, for religious,\n\u201cExercises preparatory to the renewal of vows, and for a retreat of eight\ndays.\u201d\n\nLastly, the approbation of his eminence Cardinal Deschamps, Archbishop\nof Mechlin, speaks in unequivocal terms of the work\u2019s merit. \u201cThese\nMeditations,\u201d he says, \u2026 \u201care remarkable for the solidity of doctrine,\nthe happy choice of subjects, and unctuous piety. The use of them cannot\nfail to be very profitable to religious communities, to ecclesiastics,\nand to those pious persons in the world who aspire to perfection.\u201d\n\nAnnexed also is the approbation of Father Charaux, S.J., Superior-General\nof the Mission of New York and Canada; together with extracts from three\nletters of Father Beckx, the General of the Jesuits, to the author.\n\n    MADAME DE LAVALLE\u2019S BEQUEST: Counsels to Young Ladies who\n    have Completed their Education. Translated from the fourth\n    French edition by a Sister of St. Joseph. Philadelphia: P. F.\n    Cunningham. 1875.\n\nThere is no doubt that this book, written in a tone of genuine affection\nand interest, and addressed to young ladies who have completed their\neducation, is one that might profitably be put into the hands of those\nfor whom it was written and translated. The only question seems to be\nhow best to commend it to their attention; for in these days of varied\nand indiscriminate reading, the advice or recommendation of older people\nis seldom asked, and a hurried glance at the contents of a book is often\nsufficient to cause its rejection, as prosy or unattractive.\n\nTo young ladies, also, who enjoying in a happy home the merited\nconfidence of their parents, and accustomed to few restrictions from\nthem, the minute and careful instructions and directions found in some\nof the chapters might perhaps seem superfluous and a little amusing.\nYet, when they read the dedication, and recognize the fact that the book\nwas written under the eyes, as it were, of the Blessed Virgin, with the\napprobation of her who was the truest lady as well as the purest woman\nin the world, they will be disposed to accept with more humility and\ngratitude suggestions which they must feel, if followed, would render\nthem more truly her imitators, more worthy of the name of her children.\n\nTo those who have had the privilege and happiness of a convent education,\nthis book is of course appropriate. It will bring to their minds the\ngentle teaching of those peaceful days, and act as a kind of charm in\nrecalling holy aspirations and resolutions. Especially will they welcome\nit as proving the tender interest of their former teachers, which, though\nno longer folded around them like a mantle, now attracts their attention,\nas a signal waved from a secure haven, to encourage their frail barks, as\nthey push out on the uncertain waves of life.\n\nThoughtful minds are glad to find in a book a companion and friend; to\nsuch, and as such, we recommend this valuable Bequest.\n\n    HERBERT\u2019S WIFE: A STORY FOR YOU. By Minnie Mary Lee. Baltimore:\n    Kelly, Piet & Co. 1875.\n\nWe again welcome the author of _The Heart of Myrrha Lake_ to the field\nof Catholic literature. The writer possesses many of the qualifications\nmost essential to a writer of fiction--skill in the construction of\nplots, ability to read character at sight, and a certain raciness and\nvivacity of style, which holds the reader\u2019s attention from first to\nlast, and gives her the preference over some writers of greater artistic\nfinish. In this is indicated our chief criticism and regret--that\none so well qualified should neglect that attention to detail which\ncharacterizes the perfect artist. Not that we would advocate anything\nstiff or \u201cartificial,\u201d for true art is always in harmony with nature. It\nis precisely these exuberances and inaccuracies which cause the writer\nsubsequent annoyance, and for which the critical eye is needed, to prune\nand correct. The plot of _Herbert\u2019s Wife_, though simple, abounds in\nvivid pictures of real life, and its incidents serve the moral purpose\nof the story admirably. We do not doubt that each succeeding effort will\nexhibit less and less of the defect alluded to.\n\n    BREAKFAST, LUNCHEON, AND TEA. By Marian Harland. Author of\n    _Common Sense in the Household_. New York: Scribner, Armstrong\n    & Co. 1875.\n\nThis is decidedly the most sensible, and, we may add, entertaining book\non domestic economy we remember to have met. \u201cMarian Harland\u201d has\nevidently availed herself of her skill as a novelist in sugar-coating\na subject supposed to be unpalatable to those for whom the book is\nintended, the instructions being conveyed in the form of \u201cFamiliar\nTalks with the Reader.\u201d If the writer succeeds in inducing her fair\ncountrywomen to become proficients in the art she teaches, much will\nhave been added to the substantial comfort of households, and a truer\nappreciation reached of the services of good domestics.\n\n    LINGARD\u2019S HISTORY OF ENGLAND, ABRIDGED: With a Continuation\n    from 1688 to 1854. By James Burke, A.B. And an Appendix to\n    1873. The whole preceded by a Memoir of Dr. Lingard, and\n    Marginal Notes. By M. J. Kerney, A. M. Baltimore: J. Murphy &\n    Co. 1875.\n\nThis is a library edition of the abridgment heretofore issued by the same\nhouse, printed on better paper, and making a handsome octavo of 688 pages.\n\nLingard\u2019s is still considered the standard English History by Catholic,\nand by an increasing number of impartial non-Catholic, students, and as\nit is probable that comparatively few readers will consider they have\ntime enough for the entire work, this edition is likely to be a favorite\none with book-buyers.\n\n    THE CATHOLIC PREMIUM-BOOK LIBRARY. First Series, 8vo. New York\n    and Cincinnati: Benziger Brothers. 1875.\n\nThe six volumes we have seen of this series seem to be creditable\nspecimens, both in matter and illustrations, and the publishers are to\nbe commended for their contributions towards a class of literature which\nneeded attention. We cannot well have too many books which are attractive\nin style and healthful in tone at the same time. The works having been\ntaken from the French, the translations have been made by competent\nhands, and the pictures have much greater pretensions to being termed\nillustrations than many which are made to do duty in that capacity. We\nthink, however, that the publishers\u2019 American printers and binders could\nhave produced better work than the letter-press and \u201cimitation cloth\u201d\nbinding of these volumes.\n\nThe same publishers also issue a duodecimo and an 18mo series of the\nsame library.\n\n    WANN SPRICHT DIE KIRCHE UNFEHLBAR? ODER: NATUR UND ZWECK DES\n    KIRCHLICHEN LEHRAMTS. Von Thomas Franz Knox, Priester des\n    Oratoriums in London. Regensburg: Georg Joseph Manz. 1874.\n\nWe are glad to see that Father Knox\u2019s work has met the appreciation\nin Germany of which this translation is the evidence. The publication\nmay also, we presume, be taken as an indication of the feeling which a\ncommunity of interests and dangers engenders, and which is drawing the\nmembers of the one fold in different lands into closer relations and\nsympathies.\n\n\nBOOKS AND PAMPHLETS RECEIVED.\n\n    From D. & J. SADLIER & CO., New York: Rose Leblanc. By Lady\n    Georgiana Fullerton. 16mo, pp. 220.--The Two Victories. By Rev.\n    T. J. Potter. Third edition. 16mo, pp. 170.--Olive\u2019s Rescue,\n    etc. 18mo, pp. 149.--True to the End. 18mo, pp. 150.--The\n    Little Crown of St. Joseph. Compiled and translated by a Sister\n    of St. Joseph. 24mo, pp. 347.\n\n    --The Double Triumph: A Drama. By Rev. A. J. O\u2019Reilly. Paper,\n    16mo, pp. 66.--The Foundling of Sebastopol: A Drama. By W.\n    Tandy, D.D. Paper, 16mo, pp. 70.\n\n    --A Politico-Historical Essay on the Popes as the Protectors of\n    Popular Liberty. By Henry A. Brann, D.D. 8vo, pp. 30, paper.\n\n    From G. P. PUTNAM\u2019S SONS, New York: Philosophy of Trinitarian\n    Doctrine. By Rev. A. J. Pease. 12mo, pp. 183.\n\n    From LEE & SHEPARD, Boston: Socialistic, Communistic,\n    Mutualistic, and Financial Fragments. By W. B. Greene. 16mo,\n    pp. 271.\n\n    From KELLY, PIET & CO., Baltimore: Emmore, etc. 18mo,\n    pp. 99.--Trouvaille, etc. By Lady Georgiana Fullerton.\n    18mo.--Reparation, etc. Same author.\n\n    From the AUTHOR: Mansions in the Skies: An Acrostic Poem on the\n    Lord\u2019s Prayer. By W. P. Chilton, Jr. 12mo, pp. 27.\n\n    From ROBERTS BROTHERS, Boston: Through the year: Thoughts\n    Relating to the Seasons of Nature and the Church. By Rev. H. N.\n    Powers. 16mo, pp. 288.\n\n    From BAKER, GODWIN & CO., New York: Reports of the Board of\n    Directors and the Committees of the Xavier Union, New York,\n    etc. 1875.\n\n    From J. W. SCHERMERHORN & CO., New York: The Mosaic Account of\n    the Creation, the Miracle of To-day; or, New Witnesses of the\n    Oneness of Genesis and Science. By Chas. B. Warring. 1875.\n\n    From HENRI OUDIN, Paris: Les Droits de Dieu et les Id\u00e9es\n    Modernes. Par l\u2019Abb\u00e9 Fran\u00e7ois Chesnel. 8vo, pp. xxxix., 394.\n\n    From the AUTHOR: The Proposed Railway across Newfoundland: a\n    Lecture. By Rev. Father Morris. 8vo, pp. vi., 46, paper.\n\n\n\n\nTHE CATHOLIC WORLD.\n\nVOL. XXI., No. 126.--SEPTEMBER, 1875.\n\nEntered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1875, by Rev. I. T.\nHECKER, in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C.\n\n\nTHE RIGHTS OF THE CHURCH OVER EDUCATION.\n\nFROM LES ETUDES RELIGIEUSES, ETC.\n\nOf all the questions which preoccupy--and justly--public opinion, and on\nwhich war is declared against the Catholic Church, one of the most vital\nis that of education.\n\n\u201cIt is certain that instruction is, in fact, the great battle-field\nchosen in our days by the intelligent enemies of the faith. It is there\nthey hope to take captive the youth of France, and to train up future\ngenerations for impiety and scepticism. And it must be admitted that\nthey conduct this war with a skill which is only equalled by their\nperseverance.\u201d[167]\n\nWe endeavored to point out, in a former article, the intentions of\nthe enemies of the church, the depth of the abyss they are digging\nfor Christian society, and the infernal art which they have shown in\ncombining their plan of attack.[168] Since then, a first success has\nbefallen them to justify their hopes and inflame their ardor. We may\nexpect to see them increase their efforts to carry the fortress. Why\nshould they not succeed when they have opposed to them only divided\nforces?\n\nHappen what may, however, we must remain true to ourselves. It is\nour duty to hold fast the standard of our faith, in spite of the\ncontradictions of human reason; and to oppose to the pagan error, that\nthe state is master of education, the Christian truth, that the church\nalone is endowed with the power to educate the young.\u2026 The opponents\nof the church on this point are of two classes. One consists of those\nwho never belonged to her, or who do so no longer; the other, of those\nwho still call themselves her children. The former are principally\nProtestants, and those philosophical adversaries of revelation who deny,\nwith more or less good faith, Catholic doctrine, and pretend to find\nnothing in it but illusion and blind credulity. These are, it must be\nowned, consistent with themselves when they refuse to the church the\nrights she claims over education. Their logic is correct; but it is the\nlogic of error, and to contend with such adversaries we should have to\nbegin with a proof of Christianity. That is not our object. Whatever may\nbe their error, however, on the subjects of Christian revelation and the\nchurch, we hope to be able to convince them that a spirit of encroachment\nand ambition of rule has no part in the pretensions of the church, in the\nmatter of the education of the young. Rather, they ought to acknowledge,\nwith us, that therein we only fulfil a duty the most sacred, the most\ninviolable--that of conducting Christian souls to their supreme and\neternal destiny.\n\nBut what is far less excusable is the inconsistency of certain Catholics.\nThey are persuaded, they say, of the truth of the Catholic religion;\nthey profess to believe her doctrine, to submit to her authority; and\nyet one sees them make common cause with the enemies of their faith in\nrepudiating all control of the church in questions of instruction and of\neducation. It is for these especially we write, in the hope of convincing\nthem that, in challenging for herself not only complete liberty to teach\nher children divine and human science, but also the moral and religious\ndirection of all Christian schools, the Catholic Church claims nothing\nbut what is her right, and pretends to nothing more than the legitimate\nexercise of a necessary and divine power. Would that they could\nunderstand, in short, that no Catholic can, without inconsistency and\nwithout a kind of apostasy, assent to the exclusion of the Church from\nthe supervision of instruction, and to the whole of it being directed by\nthe sole authority of the civil power!\n\n\nI.--THE PRINCIPLES OF SOLUTION IN THE PRESENT QUESTION.\n\nThe whole Christian theory of education rests on the following twofold\ntruth taught by the Catholic Church: that man is created by God for a\nsupernatural end, and that the church is the necessary intermediary\nbetween man and his supreme destiny. These two points cannot be admitted\nwithout admitting, also, that the church is right in all the rest.\nUnfortunately, nothing is less common than the clear understanding of\nthese truths, essential as they are to Christianity. It will, therefore,\nnot be unprofitable to take a brief survey of them.\n\nThe Christian religion does not resemble those philosophical theories\nwhich an insignificant minority of the human race have been discussing\nfor three thousand years without arriving at any conclusion, and which\nhave no practical issue for the rest of mankind. Its aim, on the\ncontrary, is essentially practical. From the first it addresses itself,\nnot to a few persons of the highest culture, but to all indifferently,\nrich and poor, learned and ignorant. It is designed for every one,\nbecause every one has a soul, created in the image of God, and because\nthis soul religion alone can save--that is to say, conduct to its\nultimate end, by rendering it at last conformable to its divine type,\nto the infinite perfections of God. But especially is Christianity\npractical, because, without any long discussions, it says to every one\nof us, \u201cI am the voice of God revealing to men truths which it is their\nduty to believe, virtues which it is their duty to practise in this life\nin order to deserve, after death, everlasting happiness in the very bosom\nof God. Here are my credentials; they affirm the mission I have received\nfrom on high. Believe, then, the Word of God; practise his precepts, and\nyou will be saved.\u201d Her credentials having been verified, it comes to\npass that multitudes of men yield faith to the teachings of Christianity\nas coming from God; they place themselves under her obedience, and the\nChristian society is founded, with its hierarchy, its object clearly\ndefined, and its special means determined by Jesus Christ, its divine\nfounder.\n\nBut is it all, and will it be sufficient to call one\u2019s self Christian,\nto be enrolled in the number of believers, to have received baptism, and\nto practise with more or less fidelity the precepts of the divine and\necclesiastical law? To suppose that it is, is the fatal error of a number\nof modern Christians, as unacquainted with their religion as they are\nlukewarm in fulfilling its duties. Thus understood, would Christianity\nhave done anything but add to the religions of the philosophers\nincomprehensible mysteries, exceedingly troublesome practices, and\nceremonies as meaningless to the mind as useless to the soul? Far from\nthis, Christianity is itself, also, radical after its fashion. It\ndeprives man of nothing which constitutes his nobility; it enriches it\nrather. It does not oppose his legitimate aspirations for what is great,\nfor what is beautiful; it hallows them rather. It does not deny him the\ngratification of any of his loftier and more generous instincts; it only\nsupplies them with an object infinitely capable of contenting them. In\na word, it does not destroy nature; it transforms and deifies it, by\ncommunicating to it a supernatural and divine life.\n\nWhat is life in mortal man but the movement of all his powers in quest of\nan object which gives them happiness? Well, then, Christianity lays hold\nof these human powers, and, in order to transform them, it infuses into\nthem a new principle, which is grace--that is, the virtue of God uniting\nitself to the soul; it places a higher end before them--the possession\nof God in his own essence, an infinite object of knowledge and of love;\nit enables them, indeed, to bring forth works not possible to our frail\nnature without a divine illumination which enlightens the intelligence,\nand without a holy inspiration which strengthens and assists the will.\nIt is a completely new man grafted on the root of the natural man. It\nis a new way of living, wherein, under the influence of a supernatural\nand divine principle, our feelings become purified by finding their\nsource in God, our knowledge enlarges, because it penetrates even into\nthe mysteries of the divine essence, and our love becomes limitless as\nGod himself, the only true good, whom we love in himself, and in his\ncreatures, the reflex of himself.\n\nWe know well that rationalistic philosophy, when it hears us speak of a\ndivine life, of union with God by a higher principle than nature, shrugs\nits shoulders, and with superb self-complacency rings the changes on the\nwords illusion, mysticism, extravagance. But what matter? Has it ever,\nlike us, had any experience of this second life of the soul, so as to\nunderstand its reality and its grandeur? Its God, silent and solitary,\nexists only for reason. He will never issue from his eternal repose. He\nwill not meddle with his creatures to constitute their happiness. This is\nnot the God to satisfy our nature, thirsting for the infinite. He is not\nthe God of Christianity whom we have learned to know and to love.\n\nBut to return to the church. Manhood is not the work of a day. Thirty\nyears at the least pass away before the human being arrives at maturity,\npassing successively through the stages of infancy, boyhood, and youth.\nWhat care, what pains, and what active solicitude are needed for his\neducation! A mother, a father, a master, devote themselves to it by\nturns. Fortunate if, after all, these efforts are crowned with success!\nIs it to be said that it costs less time and labor to bring a soul to\nspiritual maturity, to raise it to the perfection of this divine life? A\nday, a year--will they suffice to enlighten the intelligence with truths\nit must believe, to instruct it in obligations it must fulfil, but, above\nall, to form in it a habit of all those virtues it is bound to practise?\nOr is its education so different from the natural education that it can\ndispense with an instructor? Will the child, unaided, raise itself to\nGod--we mean to the highest degree of moral perfection, of Christian\nsanctity? It would be folly to suppose it. It needs, therefore, a master;\nsome one charged with the duty of teaching it truth, of forming it in\nvirtue. Who is this instructor? Is it any other than that one to whom\nJesus Christ, the divine but invisible Master, once said, \u201cAs my Father\nhas sent me, I send you. Go then, teach all nations; teaching them to\nobserve my whole law.\u201d This instructor is the church, represented by her\npastors, the lawful successors of the apostles.\n\nThis principle must be borne in mind, this indisputable truth of revealed\ndoctrine. We shall see the consequences of it presently. We assert that\nthe church, and the church alone, has received from Jesus Christ the\npower of forming the supernatural man--the Christian in the full force of\nthat term. No one else can pretend to it. Not the state, with its power;\nnot private individuals, with their knowledge, however great; not even\nthe father or mother of the family, great as is the authority over their\nchildren\u2019s souls with which God has invested them. And wherefore? Because\nthe church alone possesses the means indispensable for a Christian\neducation.\n\nThese means are of three kinds. In the name of God, the church gives\ntruth to the understanding; she imposes a law on the will; and she\ndispenses grace, without which the Christian would lack power to believe\nthe truth and to fulfil the law. Withdraw these things, and Christian\neducation ceases to exist. You deliver up the understanding to human\nopinions; therein it loses faith. The will becomes a law to itself; that\nis to say, it has no other law to guide it than its own caprices and\npassions; and then, the moral force disappearing, man in the face of duty\nis oftener than not powerless to fulfil it. Now, who is it whom God has\ncharged with the duty of preserving amongst men, and of communicating\nto every generation the treasure of revealed truths? Who is it who\nrepresents on earth the divine power, and has the right of enlightening\nconsciences on the subjects of justice and injustice, of right and wrong?\nWhom, in short, has Jesus Christ appointed minister of his sacraments to\ndistribute to souls the supernatural succors of grace? The church, and\nthe church alone. To her have all generations of mankind been entrusted\nthroughout the progress of the ages, in order that she may bring them\nforth to spiritual life, and form in them Jesus Christ, the divine model\nwhom Christian education ought to reproduce in every one of us. It is,\nthen, true that the formation of the supernatural man, of the Christian,\nis the proper ministry of the church; that this ministry constitutes\na part of her essential functions; that it is, in a sense, her whole\nmission on earth; so much so, that she could not abdicate it without\nbetraying her trust, without abandoning the object of her mission, and\noverthrowing the whole work of Christianity.\n\nThis is a fundamental principle which no sincere Catholic could think of\nrejecting, so solidly is it based on revelation, and so conformable is it\nto the principles of faith. There remains, consequently, only to deduce\nfrom it its consequences, and to point out how the whole claim of power\nover the instruction and education of Christian youth which the church\nasserts flows from it as a necessary and logical deduction. Now the\nchurch herself having been careful to determine the rights which belong\nto her, it is her word we shall take for our guide, it is her doctrine we\npropose to defend. It is clearly annunciated in the Encyclical _Quanta\nCura_, and in the _Syllabus_, the most authentic exposition of the mind\nof the church on all the disputed questions of the day, as it is the most\nassailed.\n\n\nII.--POSITION OF THE QUESTION.\n\nFor nearly three centuries the government of France has labored with\nindefatigable persistency and energy to concentrate in its hands all\nthe social powers, and to constitute itself, as it were, the universal\nmotive-cause in the state. Autonomy of provinces, communal franchises,\nindividual or collective precedence in certain great public services, all\nhave successively disappeared before the continual encroachments of the\ncentral power. Thus the state is no longer a living organism of its own\nlife, at once manifold and ordered. It has become a huge mechanism, whose\nthousands of wheels, inert and powerless of themselves, move only at the\nimpulse of the centre of the motive forces. To make of society a kind of\nhuman machine may be the ideal of a certain materialist and socialist\nschool. It has never been the idea of Christianity. We Christians have\ntoo much regard for our personal dignity, we know too well the limits of\nthe functions of the civil power, thus to abdicate all spontaneity, all\nprecedence of our own, and to consent to become nothing but mere parts of\na machine, when we can be, and ought to be, activities full of life and\nmovement.\n\nIn the matter of education especially, what errors have not been\ncommitted, of what usurpations has not the civil power incurred the\nguilt? By the creation of an official, pattern university, monopolizing\ninstruction, and subject exclusively to the direction of the government,\nall the authorities to whom belonged formerly the instruction and\neducation of youth have been suppressed at one blow. There is no longer\nany right recognized, any action suffered, but that of the state, master\nboth of school and pay. Everything by the state, everything for the\nstate, this through long weary years has been the undiscussable maxim\nagainst which Catholic consciences, little disposed to sacrifice their\nright to the usurped power of the government, struggled in vain.\n\nAt last, thanks to the persistent protest of those consciences, so long\ndespised; the principle has lost its pretended obviousness, and the fact\nitself has received its first check--sure prelude of its approaching\ndisappearance. The moment seems to have arrived when those who have the\nright ought to claim their legitimate share in the exercise of a function\neminently social. Now all have a right here. The government has its\nrights; as responsible for the good and evil which befall society; for\nthe evil, to check and prevent it; for the good, to help in effecting\nit. The church has her rights, because she is the great moral power in\nsociety, and there is question here, pre-eminently, of a moral function.\nThe family has its rights, for it is its fruit which has to be reared and\ninstructed. Individuals, even, have their rights--the right of devotion\nand sacrifice in behalf of a holy work, and of a ministry which, more\nthan any other, stands in need of those graces.\n\nHere are, assuredly, enough of rights, despised for three-quarters of\na century, and swallowed up in the insatiable power of the state. It\nwould be a deed worthy of our generation to re-establish all in their\noriginal and proper order. It is being attempted, we know, and already\nthe National Assembly[169] has begun to concede an instalment of justice\nto the family and to individuals. But the church! Why is silence kept\nconcerning her? Why is it sought to exclude her from the debate, and\nto treat her claims as null and void? We Catholics cannot accept this\ndisavowal of our rights. It concerns us to ascertain what place they\npropose to assign to our church in the modern state. We should like to\nknow whether we still belong to a Christian society, or must prepare to\ndefend the rights of our conscience in a state decidedly pagan.\n\nWhat are these rights? What do we demand for the church? What position,\nin short, do we wish to see her assume in all that concerns the education\nof youth? Such are the questions we propose to solve. We will state\nthem with yet more precision. When there is question of the rights of\nthe church in communities, three hypotheses are possible according\nto the different conditions of those communities. We may suppose a\nstate religiously constituted--that is to say, wherein the gospel\nand Christianity are not only the rule of life and the religion of\nindividuals, but, besides, the foundation of legislation, the worship\nadopted in the manifestations of public piety; whatever may be, in other\nrespects, the general aspect of the relations established, by common\nconsent, between the church and the state.\n\nIn opposition to this first hypothesis there exists another--that of\na civil society, wherein the religious authority and the political\nauthority have the appearance of ignoring one another; wherein the state\naffects indifference with regard to all religions, fosters no one of\nthem, and, limiting its action exclusively to the material interests of\nthe community, leaves individuals to embrace and practise whichever\nof the worships suits them best. To borrow the popular formula, such a\nconstitution would realize \u201ca free church in a free state\u201d; or, more\nexactly, \u201ca state separated from the church.\u201d[170]\n\nLastly, modern times have given birth to a third kind of political\nconstitution, a mean between the two preceding ones, in which Catholicity\nis no longer the base of the social edifice in preference to every\nother religion, and is only one of the public worships recognized by\nthe state; at times that of the majority of the citizens, and observed\nas such in the religious solemnities in which the government takes a\npart. In this hypothesis, the state remains religious, but it is neither\nCatholic nor Protestant. A Christianism vague and general enough to lend\nitself to all communions, a kind of rational deism, rather, inspires its\nlegislation; honor is done to ministers of recognized worships, and when\ngovernment feels a need of betaking itself to God, in order to implore\nhis mercy, or to give him thanks for his blessings, it orders prayer\nin all the places of worship without distinction. Manifold, as may be\nsupposed, are the shades of difference in the manner of constituting a\nstate of such indefinite religious forms. It is nevertheless true that\nthe greater number of our modern constitutions reproduce, more or less,\nthe type we have just sketched. Are we to see in this merely a kind\nof transition between ancient communities, which almost all realized\nthe first hypothesis, and the communities of the future? Or will the\nstate, separated from the church, organize itself and govern itself\nin a complete independence of all religion? This is the dream of our\nfree-thinkers. For the happiness of humanity, we hope it will not be\nrealized.\n\nIn addition to these three hypotheses there remains the state persecutor\nof the church. But although this is by no means uncommon in these\ndays, it does not enter into our present subject; which is limited to\ndetermining the rights and action of the church in a tranquil and, up to\na certain point, regular state of things.\n\nFurther, Christianity being to us truth, and the Catholic Church the\nonly true Christianity, it evidently follows that the first hypothesis\nconstitutes the normal state of society, that in which it attains\nits end with the greatest perfection by the most abundant and most\nappropriate means. Religion, in short, is as necessary to communities as\nto individuals; and of all religions, only the true one can be a real\nelement of the prosperity of states.\n\nThe problem to solve, then, is as follows: First to examine and determine\nthe rights which belong to the church in a well-organized society--that\nis to say, in a Christian or Catholic society. Then, when we know the\nbetter, the more perfect, to lay down the necessary and the possible, in\ncommunities where human passions have made for the church an inferior\nposition, but little favorable to the full exercise of her rights.\n\n\nIII.--CHRISTIAN EDUCATION IN A CHRISTIAN STATE.\n\nThe Jews in this resembled, to a certain extent, a Christian--that is\na Catholic--people; namely, that amongst them one of the tribes had\nbeen chosen by God to be wholly consecrated to his service, and to be\ndevoted exclusively to the ministry of the altars. So also, but with\nthe difference demanded by the new conditions of the priesthood, God\nchooses amongst the faithful his clerics, divinely called to exercise the\nsacerdotal functions; for under the New Law, as under the Old, no one can\npretend to this honor unless he be called of God. Here, then, are two\ncategories of individuals in the nation; those who, by divine vocation,\nare destined for the service of the church, and those who continue in\nthe ordinary condition of Christians--the ecclesiastics and the laics.\nThe distinction is necessary, because the church does not claim the same\nrights in regard to both.\n\n_The Rights of the Church over the Education of Clerics._--The education\nof clerics--of young men, that is, who devote themselves to the\necclesiastical ministry--has always been the object of the liveliest\nsolicitude of the church. Solely anxious to see the knowledge of the\nfaith and true piety flourish among the faithful entrusted to her care,\ncould she forget that people conform themselves to the model of those\nwho govern them, and that the essential condition for enlightening\nunderstandings in the truths of religion, as well as for inclining\ntheir hearts to the practice of Christian virtues, is first to fashion\na clergy solidly instructed and sincerely pious? In Thomassin[171] may\nbe found innumerable examples testifying to the solicitude of the church\non the subject of schools wherein young clerics are instructed. But the\nmost solemn act, and the most prolific in happy results, that has been\naccomplished for this object, is, without contradiction, the decree of\nthe holy Council of Trent, directing all the bishops, metropolitans, and\nother pastors charged with the government of the church to erect, each\nin their respective dioceses, a house or seminary for the purpose of\nlodging there, of instructing in ecclesiastical science, and bringing up\nin ecclesiastical virtue, the children of the town, diocese, or province,\nwho shall show signs of a true divine vocation.[172]\n\nAt the same time that it directs the institution of seminaries, the\ncouncil is at the pains to explain their great usefulness, the necessity,\neven, of them for the church, as the only efficacious means of always\nproviding zealous as well as solidly instructed ministers. It lays down\nalso the way of life which should be observed within them, the studies to\nwhich especially the young men should devote themselves, the means to be\nemployed by the masters for the complete education of their pupils, and\neven the resources of which the bishops will be able to avail themselves\nto help to defray the expenses of these precious schools.\n\nIt may have been already remarked how the council regulates everything\nof its own authority and without asking aught of secular powers. It\nproves the church\u2019s right to herself alone institute and organize her\necclesiastical seminaries. But that which decisively manifests her mind\non this point is the care which the Council of Trent takes to place the\nentire administration of these schools in the hands of the bishops,\nassisted by two of the oldest and most prudent of the cathedral chapter,\nchosen by them under the inspiration of the Holy Ghost.[173] Such is the\nauthority to which belongs exclusively the right of regulating all that\nconcerns the education of clerics. Neither can the lay faithful, nor\nChristian families, nor, still less, governments, meddle at all with this\nwork, which is exclusively the affair of the church. Accordingly, in the\nforty-sixth proposition of the _Syllabus_, the Sovereign Pontiff, Pius\nIX., has reproved, proscribed, and condemned the doctrine of those who\npretend \u201cto subject to civil authority the method to be followed in the\ntheological seminaries.\u201d\n\nThe church claims, then, complete liberty to choose her ministers\nherself, and to form them in the manner which seems to her most\ndesirable. This is no privilege which she asks of the state, it is a\nright which she holds from Jesus Christ, and by his divine appointment:\nthe right of existing, the right of perpetuating herself upon earth by\nkeeping up her hierarchy of teaching pastors and faithful taught, and\nin recruiting from among the latter those whom God himself calls to the\nhonors of the priesthood.\n\nAnd, in truth, to what rights over the education of clerics can a civil\ngovernment pretend? Is it to judge of the knowledge which is necessary\nfor the ministers of the altar? But is not the church appointed by\nJesus Christ the sole guardian of revealed truth, and has not she alone\nreceived the mission of teaching the peoples? Can it be, indeed, to\ndiscern in the subjects who present themselves a divine vocation, and\nthe degree of virtue requisite for a priest? But for such discernment,\nhas, then, the civil power the special illumination of the Holy Ghost?\nDoes it know the mysterious action of grace in the soul, and does God\nreveal to it his secrets? Or can it be, as some governments have not been\nafraid to do, to determine the number of young men who ought every year\nto respond to the call of God and enrol themselves in the sacred army?\nImpious and sacrilegious pretension! which says to the Spirit of God,\n\u201cThus far shall your inspirations go, and no farther.\u201d As if the state,\nand not God, were the judge of the church\u2019s needs! As if the civil power\nhad received from Jesus Christ the commission to fix annually in the\nbudget the effective of men employed in his divine service, after the\nsame fashion as it regulates the annual contingent of soldiers called to\nthe service of the state!\n\nBut no, not one of these pretensions is tenable. The state has no power\nwhatever over the education of clerics; and the church, by its divine\ninstitution, is alone competent for this work, necessary above all to its\nexistence and the perpetuity of its action in the world.\n\nSuch are the rights of the church in this first department of education.\nThey are absolute, exclusive, and inalienable. What have we next to say\nof those she possesses in the education of the laity?\n\n_The Rights of the Church over Public Education._--That which certain\nCatholics refuse to the church, even in a community Christianly\nconstituted, is not the right of giving instruction in the public\nschools, and making her influence felt there to the advantage of the\nmorality and good education of the youth. No one but a rationalist or\nfree-thinker can deny the necessity of making religion the foundation of\nall education, if we would bring up Christians, and not unbelievers. More\nthan this, these same Catholics acknowledge, besides, that the church\nby her priests, and her religious devoted to the education of youth,\nenjoys the right possessed by all citizens of opening public schools\nand teaching, not only the verities of the Catholic faith, but letters\nand human science in all its branches. They are generally advocates of\nfreedom of instruction to its utmost extent; and the power they accord to\nthe humblest citizen they do not commit the folly of refusing to those\nwhose character, knowledge, and disinterestedness best qualify them for\nthose delicate functions.\n\nHere, then, are two acknowledged rights of the church, on which we need\nnot insist further. First, the right of providing religious instruction\nfor the youth at school, and their education according to the principles\nof Christian morality. Secondly, the right of giving, herself, to\nchildren and to young people, whose families entrust them to her, a\ncomplete education, embracing instruction in letters and in the secular\nsciences; the right, consequently, of founding religious congregations\nentirely consecrated to the ministry of instruction and Christian\neducation; the right of establishing these institutions, providing for\ntheir recruitment, and for their material means of existence. All this,\nit is acknowledged, constitutes the normal condition of the church in\ncommunities which concede a just share of influence to the Catholic\nreligion, to its ministers, and to all those who are inspired with its\nspirit of devotion to the general welfare. But observe the points of\ndivergence between the Catholics of whom we are speaking and those who\nare more jealous to preserve intact the rights conferred by Jesus Christ\nupon his church. According to the former, a distinction must be made\nbetween religious education and literary or scientific education. The\nformer, by its object and by its end, escapes from the competence of the\nstate to re-enter what is exclusively the province of the church. It is\ndifferent with literary and scientific instruction. That, they say, is\na social service which belongs, like other services of a similar kind,\nto the jurisdiction of the city or nation. The exercise of the teaching\nministry is undoubtedly free. Private individuals are entitled to devote\nthemselves to it without let or hindrance. But the direction of this\nministry should be ascribed to the state, the only judge of whatever\naffects the present and the future of society. Guardian of order, of\njustice, and of morals in the community, it is the duty of government\nitself to regulate the discipline of public schools, the instruction\nwhich is given there, the academic titles which open the way to certain\ncivil or administrative careers, and the choice of masters; who, at any\nrate, should not have incurred any of the disqualifications determined\nby the law. Moreover, since its functions impose on it the duty of\nencouraging, as much as possible, useful institutions, and such as are\nessential to public prosperity, the government is bound to support\nschools founded by private individuals; and even, if there be not enough\nof them for the needs of the people, to institute others by its own\nauthority, and out of the public funds. This, according to them, belongs\nto the domain of the state. Here it reigns supreme, without having\nto share its power with any other power, civil or religious. Public\ninstruction is a branch of administration on the same grounds as war or\nfinance.\n\nThus think and speak Catholics of the modern political school. Unluckily\nfor them, such is not the doctrine of the church. Pius IX., in the\nforty-fifth proposition of the _Syllabus_, explicitly condemns the\nopinion we have just described, and which he formulates in the following\nterms: \u201cThe whole direction of public schools, in which the youth of a\nChristian state is brought up, with the exception, to a certain extent,\nof episcopal seminaries, can be and ought to be vested in the civil\nauthority, and that in such a manner that the right of no other authority\nshould be recognized to interfere with the discipline of those schools,\nwith the curriculum of studies, with the conferring of degrees, or with\nthe choice or approval of masters.\u201d This, however specious, is thus\nerroneous, and no Catholic can maintain it. It is, in fact, false in a\ntwo-fold point of view--false in a merely natural point of view, because\nit ascribes to the state a function which, in default of the church,\nbelongs exclusively to the family; false also, and especially, in a\nsupernatural point of view, because it separates what ought to be united,\nthe temporal consequences of education, and its supernatural end. We will\nexpose this twofold error.\n\nUnder the empire of a nondescript philosophical paganism, our modern\npoliticians have a striking tendency to enlarge more and more in\nsociety the circle of governmental privileges. One would suppose, to\nlisten to them, that it was the function of power to completely absorb\nall the organic elements which go to make a nation, and to leave no\nlonger existing side by side of it, or beneath it, aught but inert\nindividualities, social material capable of receiving impulse and\nmovement only from it. Healthy reason protests against a theory so\ndestructive of the most indispensable elements of social prosperity.\nFamilies collecting into cities forfeited none of their natural rights;\ncities, in associating themselves in nations did not pretend to abdicate\nall their powers. What both sought, on the contrary, in association,\nwas a stronger guarantee of those very rights; it was the maintenance\nof the most inviolable justice in human relations; it was, in short, an\nefficient protection against violence and oppression, whether from within\nor without.\n\nWhat! Are we to admit that the right and the duty of educating children\nsprung from society, and was originated by it? The bare thought is folly.\nFrom the first creation of the family, God willed that the infant should\ncome into the world in feebleness and impotence; that, physically,\nintellectually, and morally, it should have need of a long and toilsome\neducation before becoming a complete man. On whom was it, then, that\nhe imposed a natural obligation of undertaking and accomplishing its\neducation? Certainly not on society, which did not then exist. It was on\nthe family itself, on the father especially, who is its responsible head.\nThe power of engendering human beings includes of necessity the duty of\nnot leaving such a work incomplete--the duty, consequently, of guiding\nthe infant up to full manhood.\n\nThe family thus, by virtue of a law of nature, possesses the power of\ninstructing and educating the understanding and will of the child born\nof it; and this power the family does not lose by being associated with\nothers in social life. For, we repeat, the state is not instituted to\nabsorb into its collective life all pre-existing rights. The act of union\nmerely consecrates those rights by placing them under the protection of\npublic authority. But when this authority, instead of protecting the\nrights of the family, proceeds to take possession of them, it commits an\nusurpation, it breaks the social pact, by making itself guilty of the\nvery crime which it ought to prevent.\n\nNothing less than the utter and ruinous confusion of ideas introduced\nby the philosophy of the last century, and by its absurd theories\nabout the Social Contract, could have caused principles so clear and\nso indisputable to be lost sight of, and all the usurpations of the\nliberty and rights of families and individuals by the civil power to be\nlegitimized. But, be the errors of the time what they may, it is not\nfitting that we Catholics should be either their accomplices or their\ndupes. Enlightened by faith, our reason must hold fast those principles\non which human society is based, and were we to be their only defenders,\nit would be to our honor to have maintained them against all the\nnegations of the spirit of system. To judge, then, only by reason, the\nstate has not those rights over the education of youth which a certain\nschool ascribes to it.\n\nWe asserted, moreover, that the opinion of this school is also false in\na supernatural point of view, because it separates what ought to be\nunited, because it makes the inference the principle, and despises the\none in order to attach itself exclusively to the other. And here we touch\nthe pith of the question.\n\nIt is alleged, a public education good or bad, has very serious\nconsequences for society. Its security or its ruin may depend on it, and,\nanyhow, nothing more vitally affects its peace, strength, and prosperity.\nThe power, therefore, with which the government of a community is\ninvested cannot be a matter of indifference in education. It ought, then,\nto superintend and direct it, and to place itself at its head, as it\nnaturally does of every social function. We shall presently see how much\nthis reasoning is worth. It includes three things--a principle, a fact,\nand an inference. The principle is as follows: Whatever is for society an\nelement of strength and progress, and can cause its prosperity and decay,\nis within the competence of the civil authority and ought to be subject\nto it. The fact is affirmed in the premises of the argument, to wit,\nthat public education, according as it is good or bad, is naturally of\nserious consequence to the state. Whence the inference, that it ought to\nbe subject to the civil authority--that is, to the government.\n\nThe principle we dispute; the fact is explained and vindicated in another\nway, and the inference is inconsequential.\n\nFirst, it is not true that whatever affects the prosperity of the state\nought of necessity to belong to the jurisdiction of the civil power,\nand to be subject to its direction and control. Are not commerce and\nmanufacture elements of national prosperity? Is it necessary, on that\naccount, that the government should assume the direction of them,\nand that nothing should be done in those two departments of social\nactivity except by it. No. In these the office of power is limited to\ncausing right and justice to be respected in industrial and commercial\ntransactions, to intervene in contentions to decide what is just, to\nsecure the observance of positive laws enacted by it for the purpose\nof applying to every particular case the general principles of the\nnatural and of the divine law. The rest is an affair of individual\nenterprise among citizens. Thus, in the question which engages us, that\nthe education of youth ought to contribute much towards the prosperity\nof a state is not sufficient reason to induce us to resign the whole of\nit into the hands of the civil power. We must further inquire if there\nis not some one in the community authorized, by the law of nature or by\ndivine right, to assume its direction and control. If this be so, it will\nnot do to invest the state with a right which belongs to another.\n\nIn the second place, the happiness and prosperity of a state are\ncertainly the result of a good education of its youth; of a complete\neducation, that is, well conducted; such, in a word, as gives to the\nyoung man all the qualities of perfect manhood. Now, this education is,\nof necessity, Christian education, in which the state can do nothing--the\nchurch, and the church alone, as we have endeavored to show, everything.\n\nWhat, once more, is education? We have already defined it: the work of\nfitting a man to fulfil his destiny; to place the faculties of man in a\ncondition of sufficing for themselves, and of pursuing, with the help of\nGod, the end which is allotted to them. Such, clearly, is the work of\neducation; such the end it must of necessity propose to itself. Suppose\nthat in educating a child this consideration of his final destiny should\nbe neglected, that he was brought up with an eye solely to a proximate\nand terrestrial end, beyond which he could do nothing. Could such an\neducation be called complete? Could it be called sufficient? Would it\ndeserve even the name of education? Undoubtedly not. That child would not\nhave been educated. He would never become a man, _vir_, in the full sense\nof that term, because the vision of his intelligence would never reach\nbeyond the narrow horizon of this world; because his powers of well-doing\nwould necessarily be extremely limited; because, at last, he would miss\nthe end which every man is bound to attain, and would be compelled to\nremain for ever nothing but an immortal abortion.\n\nSuch is the necessity of recognizing man\u2019s final end in education. That\nmust be its aim, that only, under pain of compromising all the rest. Is\nthere any need of mentioning the guarantees afforded by generations thus\neducated, for the peace and happiness of communities? Has not true and\nsincere piety, in the words of the apostle,[174] promise of this life as\nwell as of that of eternity? Is it in any other way than in practising\nthe virtues which make man a social being that we can hope to achieve\nimmortality? Thus to labor to render ourselves worthy of the destiny\nwhich awaits us is, also, to prepare ourselves to become good citizens\nof the earthly city, is to give to society the best possible security of\nbeing useful as well as loyal to it. The greatest men of whom humanity\nis proud, were they not at the same time the most virtuous?\n\nNow, we must repeat to Catholics who forget it, that there are not two\nlast ends for man, but only one; and that is the supernatural end of\nwhich we treated at the commencement. Created by God to enjoy his glory\nand his happiness through eternity, in vain would man seek elsewhere the\nend of his efforts and of his existence. Everything in him tends towards\nthis end. It is his perfection, and in order to exalt himself to it, he\nought to give to his faculties the whole power of development of which\nthey are capable. Woe to him, but much more woe to those who have had\nthe responsibility of his education, if, through their fault, he does\nnot find himself on the level of his destiny; if, instead of gravitating\ntowards heaven in his rapid passage across life, he drags himself\nmiserably along the ground, wallowing in selfish interests and sensual\npassions!\n\nBut if this be so, what can the state do to guide souls to heights which\nsurpass itself? There is nothing to be done but to apply the principle\nformulated by S. Thomas: \u201cIt is his to order means to an end, in whose\npossession that end is\u201d--_Illius est ordinare ad finem, cujus est\nproprius ille finis_.[175] The supernatural transformation of the soul\ninto God, and eternal beatitude, which education ought invariably to\npropose to itself, are not the objects of human society any more than of\nthe civil power which regulates it. That power is consequently incapable,\nof itself, of ordaining the means which contribute to this supernatural\nend. It cannot afford the very smallest assistance to education in this\nrespect, nothing to form the man, and to adapt him to the grand designs\nof God in his behalf. In a word, education is not within the jurisdiction\nof earthly governments. It is above their competence.\n\nWhat, then, is the power in the Christian communities commissioned with\nthe sublime ministry of the education of souls? Who has received from\nGod the divine mission of begetting them to the supernatural and divine\nlife, rough-drawn on earth, perfected in heaven? There is, there can\nbe, but one reply. The church! When he founded that august spiritual\nsociety, Jesus Christ assigned to it as its end, to guide men to eternal\nhappiness; and on that account he endowed it with all the powers\nnecessary to ordain and to put in operation the proper means for this\nend. Education conducted in a spirit fundamentally Christian--such is the\nuniversal, indispensable mean, over which, consequently, the church has\nexclusive rights.\n\nSee then, established by Jesus Christ, the great instructress of the\nhuman race--the only one which can rightfully pretend to direct public\neducation in Christian communities! That superintendence, that direction,\nare an integral part of the pastoral ministry. The church cannot renounce\nit without prevarication.\n\nHer reason, therefore, is obvious for insisting, with such obstinate\npersistency, in claiming, everywhere and always, the exercise of a right\nwhich she holds from God himself. Obvious is the reason for which the\nSovereign Pontiffs have so severely condemned a doctrine which is the\ndenial of this inalienable right for which, in the concordats concluded\nwith Catholic powers, a special clause invariably reserves for the church\nthe faculty of \u201cseeing that youth receive a Christian education.\u201d[176]\n\nNothing is more clear than that, when the Catholic Church, in a Christian\nstate, claims for itself the ministry of public instruction, it is no\nmonopoly which it seeks to grasp for the profit of its clerics. It has\nbut one object, to wit, that instruction should have as wide a scope as\npossible; and for this object she appeals to all devotedness. Laymen and\necclesiastics, seculars and religious, all--all are besought to take a\npart in this work of instructing the peoples. Whoever offers himself\nwith the necessary qualifications, a pure faith, Christian manners, and\ncompetent knowledge, is welcome. To such an one the church opens a free\nscope for his energies, to cultivate the rising generations under her\nshelter and in co-operation with her, in order to enable them to bring\nforth the fruits of knowledge and of virtue. What she does not assent\nto, what she cannot assent to, is that, under the pretext of liberty of\ninstruction, the ravening wolf should introduce himself into the fold,\nin the person of those teachers of errors and falsehood who lay waste\nthe flock by bringing into it discord and war; that, under the guise of\nscience and intellectual progress, they should sap the religious belief\nof a people, assault Christian truth, and infect the young understanding\nwith the deadly poison of doubt and unbelief. No, indeed! Such havoc the\nchurch can neither sanction nor allow them an opportunity to accomplish.\nShe remembers that she has received from Christ the care of souls, that\nthe salvation of his children has been entrusted to her keeping, and that\nGod will demand of her an account of their blood shed--that is to say, of\ntheir eternal perdition. _Sanguinem ejus de manu tua requiram_ (Ezech.\niii. 18). As a watchful sentinel she keeps guard over the flock, and so\nlong as the criminal violence of human powers does not rob her of her\nrights, neither the thieves nor the assassins of souls can succeed in\nexercising their ravages.\n\nBy way of recapitulation we will enunciate, in five or six propositions,\nthe whole of this doctrine of the rights of the church over education,\nand thus place the reader in a better position for judging of its full\nforce and extent.\n\n1st. The education of clerics destined to ecclesiastical functions\nis the exclusive right of the church. She alone regulates everything\nconnected with it, whether the erection of seminaries, or their interior\ndiscipline, or the appointment of masters, or the instruction in letters\nand science, or the good education of the pupils, or their admission\ninto the ecclesiastical body.\n\n2d. The church implicitly respects the right of families to provide a\nprivate education for their children by whomsoever and in whatever manner\nthey prefer. Only she imposes on the consciences of Christian parents\nthe obligation of seeing to it that that education be religious and in\nconformity with the faith they profess.\n\n3d. The superintendence and direction of the public schools, as well of\nthose wherein the mass of the people are instructed in the rudiments of\nhuman knowledge, as of those where secondary and higher instruction are\ngiven, belong of right to the Catholic Church. She alone has the right\nof watching over the moral character of those schools, of approving the\nmasters who instruct the youth therein, of controlling their teaching,\nand dismissing, without appeal to any other authority, those whose\ndoctrine or manners should be contrary to the purity of Christian\ndoctrine.\n\n4th. Subject to the condition of being able to guarantee pure faith,\nirreproachable manners, and competent knowledge, entire liberty is left\nto private individuals, ecclesiastics and laity, seculars and religious,\nto devote themselves to the ministry of teaching and education of youth,\nto form associations for this object, to found academies and universities\nwherein the sciences are taught, and which govern themselves by their\ninternal discipline, the choice of masters, and the regulation of the\nstudies, programmes, examens, etc. The church only reserves to herself,\nin their case, her right of superintendence in the matters of morality\nand the integrity of the faith.\n\n5th. The church not only does not refuse the co-operation of the state\nin education, but, on the contrary, she solicits it, whenever private\nenterprise and her own resources do not suffice to enable her to extend\ninstruction as much as she would wish and as the welfare of peoples\ndemands. She then appeals to the communes, to the provinces, to the\nnation, in order that everywhere the co-operation of the two powers may\neffect the foundation of schools, the increase of the number of masters,\nand may come to the aid of the indigent parents. But even in these\nschools established with the concurrence of the civil power, if the state\nmay superintend the administration of material interests, the right of\ndirection and superintendence of teaching remains with the church.\n\n6th. Lastly, the power, nevertheless, which the church exercises\nover public instruction does not hinder governments, if they deem it\nexpedient, from establishing schools where professors chosen by them\nmay give a special training to young people who devote themselves to\nadministrative and military careers. The administration and the army\nbelong, in fact, exclusively to the jurisdiction of governments. It is\nbut just, therefore, that they should be able to give to those who are\nto belong to them the especial knowledge required for their employment.\nOnly, here, the civil or military authority contracts the same\nobligations as those which bind the consciences of individuals, to wit,\nto watch that there be nothing in those schools contrary to religion and\nto good morals.\n\nSuch is the whole doctrine of the Catholic Church with regard to\nthe education of youth in Christian states. Is there not in this\norganization an ideal which one may justly long to see realized, since\nit would be the solution of a certain number of problems which strangely\nperplex our insecurely founded and badly balanced modern communities?\nTwo authorities, each having a distinct object, but united and being\nmutually the complement one of the other, have the guardianship of human\ninterests--interests of time and interests of eternity. One, the civil\nauthority, has for its direct domain, temporal affairs. The other, the\nreligious authority, commands and directs in all that concerns the\nsupernatural life. The latter, having the responsibility of guiding\nman from his birth up to his entrance into eternity, educates him,\ninstructs him, and transforms him into a perfect man, into a Christian\nworthy by his virtues of the destiny which awaits him. The former\nbenefits generations thus formed, and out of these elements, so well\nprepared to fulfil all the duties of the present life, it constitutes\nsocial communities as so many provisional countries, where justice and\ncharity, loyally practised, present an image of the true and final\ncountry--Heaven. Thus, the two powers lend to one another a mutual\nsupport; the civil power, by securing to the spiritual power a complete\nliberty of action; and the spiritual power, in its turn, by forming for\nthe state honest and perfect citizens. Thus peace and concord reign\nthroughout the entire society, interests harmonize, justice is loved,\norder exists everywhere from the highest to the lowest step of the social\nladder, and every one, content with his position here on earth, because\nhis hopes are on high, is more intent on making himself better than on\noverthrowing existing institutions that he may raise himself on their\nruins.\n\nWhere is to be found, once more we demand, an ideal more grand and\nmore true than this conception of Christian society? The middle ages\nwere not far from realizing it. Unhappily, a work so well begun at the\ninspiration of the church, first legists, courtiers of the civil power,\nafterwards Protestantism and its direct off-shoot, rationalism, were fain\nto interrupt it, and gradually to throw us back into a state of things\nwhich threatens to become worse than paganism or barbarism. There is\nyet time to return to truth, to right and order, which are impossible\nto be found except in a society based on Christian principles. But will\npeoples and legislators have a sufficiently clear perception of their\nduty and their interest to stay themselves at once on the incline down\nwhich they are gliding, and dragging us with them, towards a dark and\ntempest-threatening future?\n\n\nIV.--CONDUCT OF THE CHURCH IN NON-CHRISTIAN COMMUNITIES.\n\nIn the eyes of the Catholic Church, Christianity is the divine afflatus,\nbreathing upon human society to give it a soul and infuse life. Without\nher there can be in it no true nor prolific life, and every social\norganization which is not inspired by Christianity is, of necessity,\ndefective and abnormal. The church cannot regard such an organization as\na benefit, much less as a progress beyond Christian communities.[177]\nShe deplores it, on the contrary, and she endeavors to persuade people\nthat it would be better for them to submit absolutely to religion, and\nto take it as the guide and regulator of their social interests. Never\nhas the church concealed her desire, not to lord it over, but to direct\ncommunities, to penetrate them with her spirit, to recover the salutary\ninfluence over them which is their due, and which they cannot reject\nwithout serious injury. The church has never made any mystery of this\nambition. Her enemies themselves are witnesses to it, even when they\npermit themselves, as they too often do, to travesty and calumniate her\nmotives in order to render them odious.\n\nLamentable, however, as may appear to her to be the inferior position\nwhich is allotted to her in modern communities, she does not abandon\nherself to useless regrets. Without renouncing her inalienable rights,\nshe sets out from a fact which it is not in her power to change, and\nexhausts her ingenuity in making the best she can of it for the good\nof souls. The little liberty and influence left to her, she employs\nto fulfil her ministry; her zeal is inventive to supply by redoubled\nvigilance the want of her ordinary means in the spiritual government.\nMust not the work of God be accomplished on earth, in spite of the\ndifficulties, in spite of the impediments of all kinds devised by hell?\n\nSuch, then, is the principle which regulates the conduct of the church\nin states where her authority is disowned. To take into consideration\ncircumstances, established facts; to do nothing brusquely, but\nusing whatever power still remains to her, to exert every effort to\nameliorate the situation, to make herself more useful to the faithful\nand to society. Let us see how she applies this rule to education in\nnon-Christian communities.\n\nWe find first the communities wherein the constitution proclaims the\nliberty of all worships, and their equality before the law. Here, the\nCatholic Church has ceased to be the religion of the state, which no\nlonger lives in her spirit, no longer accepts her direction in matters of\nreligion and morality, but prefers independence to all the advantages of\na union with which it thinks it can dispense. How will the church act in\nthis novel position? In the name of liberty, and of the equal protection\naccorded to every worship, she demands, first of all, the right of\nrecruiting her ministers, and that of training them according to her own\nlaws; the establishment of large and small seminaries, as well as their\nadministration by the bishops exclusively. This is the first need to\nsatisfy. It is her right, included in her claim to existence.\n\nShe demands, moreover, that in the public schools created or authorized\nby the government, religion be invariably the foundation of education;\nthat the pupils be instructed in the verities of the faith, and that\nneither atheism nor religious indifferentism be taught there. She demands\nthat at least the primary schools remain denominational--that is to say,\nspecially appropriated to the children of every religion, and that the\nCatholic clergy have free admission to the schools for Catholics. The\npreservation of the faith in those young hearts is at stake here; for the\nchurch knows by experience the doleful effects of an early education in\nwhich religion has not had the principal part. Thus she may, with good\nright, claim of a government, Christian in name, that it leave to the\nreligions protected by the law this legitimate amount of influence in the\neducation of the people. From the same motives, the church positively\nrejects the system of non-denominational schools, in which eventuates a\njumble of religions fatal to the faith and piety of children. Assuredly\nCatholics know how to recognize and respect the rights of dissenters,\nnor do they dream of doing violence to the conscience of any one. Is it\nnot, then, simply common justice that no advantage should be taken of the\nliberty and equality of the several religions before the law, to hand\nover Catholic children to a manifest danger of religious perversion and\nmoral ruin?\n\nBut this is not all. The principles on which the communities of which we\nspeak rest, permit Catholics to require more. True liberty for a religion\nconsists in its being able to be not only practised by its adherents, but\nalso transmitted in its integrity to succeeding generations, with its\nbeliefs, its precepts, its exterior forms, and, above all, its interior\nspirit. Now, that is only possible by means of education. It is, then,\npermitted to the church to demand that liberty be left to families to\nchoose themselves masters worthy of their confidence, and whom they can\ntrust to instruct and educate their children in the principles of the\nCatholic religion. When the national constitution has already embodied\nthe liberty of instruction in every stage, Catholics make as extensive\nuse of it as they can, and as their peculiar property, imitating in\nthat the shipwrecked man who collects together the waifs saved from the\nwreck, and out of them tries to rebuild his shattered fortune. If, on\nthe contrary, the monopoly in favor of the state should be embodied\nin the law, they arm themselves with maxims of natural right, at times\neven with the commonly accepted ideas of liberty, wherewith to beat\ndown this scandalous monopoly. They know how to set in motion all legal\nmeans; and without having recourse, like many of their adversaries, to\ninsurrection or corruption, they succeed, sooner or later, in bringing\nover public opinion to the side of justice and truth, and in recovering,\nthus, a portion of the rights which belong to their church, the right of\nmaking instructed and conscientious Christians. After that, the church\ncan await from the divine benediction and her own efforts the return of\na happier era, for which she exerts all the means at her disposal, by\na solid Christian education given to youth, by preaching, and by good\nexample. She will, at least, have neglected nothing to acquit herself of\nher mission, and to make herself useful even to the communities which\nrepudiate her.\n\nThere remains, lastly, the third hypothesis, that of a state separated\nfrom the church--that is to say, organized wholly out of the religious\nidea, a \u201clay state,\u201d in the full force of that phrase.\n\nWe observe, first, that there is more than one degree in this\nsecularization of the state. The first realizes the rationalist idea,\naccording to which governments, respectful towards religion, and allowing\nabsolute liberty, leave the church to organize herself after her fashion,\nto preach in her temples, to teach in her schools, and to govern the\nconsciences subject to her authority, whilst themselves govern according\nto the right of rationalism, and without asking counsel of any religious\npower. It is the dream of more than one liberal, simple enough to believe\na perfect equilibrium of human passions to be possible in society, by\nthe sole force of nature and reason. But experience soon dissipates\nthe illusion of so fair a dream. All the degrees of separation between\nreligion and society are soon traversed up to the last, wherein the\nstate, no longer acknowledging creed, church, or religion, announces\nitself atheist, and forces consciences to the inflexible level of an\nimpious legislation. From thence there is but a step to the proscription\nof Catholics, and to open persecution.\n\nHowever, in the conditions of an existence so unpromising what is the\nconduct of Catholics? What can they do save invoke the common right,\nand turn against their adversaries the weapons by which the latter\ndispossessed them? The lay state proclaims liberty for all to speak,\nwrite, and teach, as seems good to them. It is in the name of this\npretended principle that the church saw herself robbed of almost all\nher rights and driven from society. Do not imagine that she approves\nor that she will ever adopt so monstrous an error. But this liberty of\nspeaking, writing, and teaching which you do not refuse to error, is it\nforbidden to claim it for truth? Truth! It is herself; and her right to\nspeak to the world she holds, not from false maxims inscribed in modern\nconstitutions, but from Jesus Christ, her divine founder. Strong in this\nright, superior to human constitutions, the church never hesitates to\nassume in communities the whole space they leave her to occupy, and to\nextend her action to the uttermost. If they claim to exclude her, she\nfashions a weapon out of common right. She summons the governments to\nadmit her to the benefit of the universal liberty inscribed in the law,\nand too profusely lavished on teachers of error. What exception can be\ntaken to this conduct, at once so loyal and so right?\n\nBut they charge it against us as an unworthy man\u0153uvre, that we claim for\nourselves, in modern communities, and in the name of their principles, a\nliberty we shall refuse to our adversaries the moment we regain power.\nIn presence of this accusation, the more exalted liberals demand that\npreventive reprisals be employed in our regard, and that liberty be\ndenied us. The more moderate, affecting a sort of confidence in the\nstability of their work--or rather, in the impossibility of modern\ncommunities ever again returning to the yoke of religion--prefer to show\nthemselves generous, and to vote for liberty even although it be that\nof Catholics. Touching self-sacrifice, and which it must be owned is no\nlonger in unison with the temperament of contemporary liberalism!\n\nBe that as it may, the accusation is sheer calumny, as facts prove.\nNeither in the small Swiss cantons, nor in Belgium, where Catholics\ngovern, are dissenters oppressed. If persecution rages anywhere in the\ntwo hemispheres, it is where liberalism has planted its banner, and\nagainst Catholics. It is something more than ignorance which can accuse\nus of persecuting tendencies at this time of day. The truth is that\nsocial peace has no firmer supporters than Catholics.\n\nWe have before asserted, but it is well to repeat it, that the Catholic\nChurch professes and practises the most absolute respect for acquired\nrights, for conventions concluded and accepted. Thus, for the sake of\npeace, certain governments have felt themselves obliged to recognize\nthe right of dissenters to live in the state, retaining their beliefs\nand their religious forms. Liberty of conscience has been proclaimed,\nthe public exercise of all the worships authorized. It is, doubtless, a\nmisfortune that religious unity in society should be broken. The church\nregrets this misfortune, and her most earnest desire is to see, some day,\nunity re-established. But is that to say that she wishes violently to\nchange a situation imposed on her by circumstances? that she meditates\nseizing again, at a blow, and in contempt of acquired rights, the power\nshe enjoyed in better times? By no means. The liberty which the various\nsects enjoy, for the sake of peace, the Catholic Church respects and\nknows how to maintain. Dissenters may continue to practise publicly their\nreligion, provided that they trouble neither order nor the tranquillity\nof the state. Equality of civil and political rights is guaranteed to\nall citizens, Catholic or not. The same liberty is conceded to them to\nopen schools, and to educate their children according to their beliefs.\nNothing, in short, which is just and equitable among fellow-citizens is\nrefused by Catholics to those who do not share their faith. What more\ndo they want? And what is lacking in this conduct to constitute true\ntoleration in mixed communities?\n\nOf Catholics who have become the depositaries of power in these\ncommunities the church demands complete liberty to fulfil the duties\nwith which she has been charged by Jesus Christ--the right of organizing\nherself according to her own laws; of recruiting the sacerdotal ministry\nand exercising all its functions; of watching over the good education\nof Catholic youth; of founding and directing schools, colleges, and\nuniversities; of having her religious congregations consecrated to\nprayer, preaching, or education; of being able, in short, to exercise her\nsalutary influence in society, and of being free to devote herself to\nrendering the people better, better instructed in their duties, and more\nresolute to fulfil them. As regards non-Catholics, she demands of the\ngovernment not to substitute license for liberty, but to use its utmost\nefforts to banish from society two things which are the most hostile to\nits prosperity and to its happiness: we mean immorality and irreligion.\nIf, later on, differences disappear, if all hearts should unite in the\nprofession of one same faith, it will then be a source of regret to no\none that the church resumes her rank, and that society is once more\nChristian and Catholic.\n\n\nARE YOU MY WIFE?\n\nBY THE AUTHOR OF \u201cPARIS BEFORE THE WAR,\u201d \u201cNUMBER THIRTEEN,\u201d \u201cPIUS VI.,\u201d\nETC.\n\nCHAPTER VIII.\n\nA STARTLING DISCLOSURE.\n\nAnd how had things fared at The Lilies all this time? Sir Simon had\nbehaved in the strangest way. Immediately after Clide\u2019s departure, he\ncame, according to his promise, and explained it after a plausible\nfashion to M. de la Bourbonais, who, unsuspecting as an infant, accepted\nthe story without surprise or question.\n\nAt the end of a week Sir Simon knew that the worst fears were confirmed;\nthe identity of the supposed Isabel had been disproved, and the existence\nof the real one ascertained beyond the possibility of doubt. Clide was on\nher track, but when or how he should find her was yet the secret of the\nfuture.\n\nThe one thing clear in it was, that it was a miserable business and\ncould end in nothing but shame and sorrow for every one connected with\nit. Sir Simon was helpless and bewildered. He was always slow at taking\nin bad news, and when he succeeded in doing it, his first idea was, not\nto take the bull by the horns and face the facts manfully, but to stave\noff the evil day, to gain time, to trust to something turning up that\nwould avert the inevitable. He had never in the whole course of his life\nfelt so helpless in the face of evil tidings as on the present occasion.\nHe foresaw, all too plainly, what the effect was likely to be on the\ninnocent young creature on whom he had brought so terrible a share in\nthe catastrophe. It was no comfort to him that it was not his fault. He\nwould willingly have taken the fault on his own shoulders, if thereby\nhe could have lifted the pain from hers. He was too generously absorbed\nin the thought of Franceline\u2019s trouble to split hairs on the difference\nbetween remorse and regret; he cursed his own meddling as bitterly as\nif he had acted like a deliberate villain towards her; he felt there\nwas nothing for him to do but blow his brains out. He passed the day he\nreceived the admiral\u2019s letter in this suicidal and despairing state of\nmind. The next day his indignation against himself found some solace in\nvituperating Clide\u2019s ill-luck, and the villainy of the woman who had led\nhim such a devil\u2019s-dance. This diversion soothed him; he slept better\nthat night, and next morning he awoke refreshed; cheered up according to\nhis happy matutinal habit, and took a brighter view of everything. It\nremained no doubt a most unfortunate affair, look at it as one might, but\nFranceline would get over it by and by. Why not? All the nicest girls he\nknew when he was a young fellow had been crossed in love, and they had\nall got over it, and married somebody else and lived happily ever after.\nWhy should not Franceline do the same? De Winton was a very nice fellow,\nbut there were other nice fellows in the world. There was Roxham, for\ninstance. If he, Sir Simon, was a pretty girl, he was not sure but he\nshould like Roxham best of the two; he was deuced good-looking, and the\neldest son of a peer to boot; that counts with every girl, why shouldn\u2019t\nit with Franceline? \u201cBut is she like every girl? Is she a butterfly to\nbe caught by any candle?\u201d whispered somebody at Sir Simon\u2019s ear; but\nhe pooh-poohed the unwelcome busybody, as he would have brushed away a\nbuzzing fly. She must get over it; Roxham should come in and cut out\nthis unlucky Clide. The worst of it was that conversation Sir Simon had\nhad with Raymond before Franceline\u2019s visit to London. If he had but had\nthe wit to hold his tongue a little longer! Well, biting it off now\nwould not mend matters. Roxham must come to the rescue. He had evidently\nbeen smitten the night of the ball. Sir Simon had intentionally brought\nhim into the field to rouse Clide\u2019s jealousy, and bring him to the\npoint; he had invoked every species of anathema on himself for it ever\nsince, but it was going to turn out the luckiest inspiration after all.\nWhile the baronet was performing his toilet, he arranged matters thus\nsatisfactorily to his own mind, and by the time he came down to breakfast\nhe was fully convinced that everything was going to be for the best. He\nread his letters, wished a few unpleasant little eventualities to the\nwriters of most of them, and crammed them into a drawer where they were\nnot likely to be disturbed for some time to come. The others he answered;\nthen he read the newspapers, and that done, ordered his horse round, and\nrode to Rydal, Lady Anwyll\u2019s place.\n\nThe conversation naturally fell on the recent ball at the Court,\nand from that to the acknowledged belle of the evening, Mlle. de la\nBourbonais. In answer to the plump little dowager\u2019s enthusiastic praises\nof his young friend\u2019s beauty the baronet remarked that it was a pity she\ndid not live nearer The Lilies. \u201cIt is dull for the little thing, you\nsee,\u201d he said; \u201cBourbonais is up to his eyes in books and study, and she\nhas no society to speak of within reach; she and the Langrove girls don\u2019t\nseem to take to each other much; she is a peculiar child, Franceline; you\nsee she has never mixed with children, she has been like a companion to\nher father, and the result is that she has fallen into a dreamy kind of\nworld of her own, and that\u2019s not good for a girl; she is apt to prey upon\nherself. I wish you were a nearer neighbor of ours.\u201d\n\n\u201cI am near enough for all intents and purposes,\u201d said Lady Anwyll,\npromptly; \u201cwhat is it but an hour\u2019s drive? There\u2019s nothing I should like\nbetter than to take her about, pretty creature, with her great gazelle\neyes; but I dare say she would bore herself with me; they don\u2019t care for\nold women\u2019s society, those young things--why should they? I hated an old\nwoman like a sour apple when I was her age.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! but Franceline is not a bit like most girls of her age; she would\nenjoy you very much, I assure you she would,\u201d protested Sir Simon warmly.\n\u201cThere is nothing she likes better than talking to me now, and I might be\nyour father,\u201d he added, with more gallantry than truth; but Lady Anwyll\nlaughed a contemptuous, little, good-humored laugh without contradicting\nhim. \u201cShe has seen very little and read a great deal--too much in fact;\nyou would be surprised to see how much she has read about all sorts of\nthings that most girls only know by name; her father was for teaching her\nGreek and Latin, but I bullied him out of that nonsense; it would have\nbeen a downright crime to spoil such a creature by making her blue. I\u2019ve\nsaved her from that, at any rate.\u201d\n\n\u201cI dare say that is not the only good service she owes you,\u201d observed the\ndowager, \u201cnor is it likely to be the last. When is your young relation\ncoming back?\u201d\n\n\u201cDe Winton, you mean? He\u2019s hardly a relation--a connection at most. I\ndon\u2019t know when he is likely to turn up; I believe he\u2019s on his way to the\nNorth Pole at present.\u201d\n\n\u201cReally! I thought there was a magnet drawing him nearer home.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat! Franceline, eh? Well, I thought myself he was a trifle spooney\nin that quarter,\u201d said the baronet, bending down to examine his boots,\n\u201cbut it would seem not, or he would not have decamped; he\u2019s an odd fish,\nClide--a capital fellow, but odd.\u201d\n\n\u201cI thought him original, and liked him very much, what little I saw of\nhim,\u201d replied Lady Anwyll. \u201cHowever, I am glad to hear it is not a case\nbetween him and your pretty friend; if there is a thing I _hate_\u201d--with\nten drops of vitriol in the monosyllable--\u201cit\u2019s chaperoning a girl in\nlove. You have no satisfaction in her; nothing interests or amuses her;\nshe is ready to bite the nose off any man that looks civil at her; she\nis a social nuisance in fact, and I make a point of having nothing to do\nwith her.\u201d\n\nSir Simon threw back his head and laughed.\n\n\u201cHow about young Charlton?\u201d resumed the dowager; \u201che is the match of the\ncounty. Has he gone in for the prize?\u201d\n\n\u201cHe\u2019s too great an ass,\u201d was the rejoinder.\n\n\u201cHumph! Asses are proof, then, against the power of a beautiful face?\nIt\u2019s the first time I\u2019ve heard it.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe fact is, I don\u2019t think he has had a chance yet,\u201d said Sir Simon;\n\u201cBourbonais is peculiar, and does not encourage people to go and see him;\nhe only admits a select circle of old fogies, and I think he fancies\nCharlton is a bit of a puppy.\u201d\n\n\u201cPerhaps he\u2019s not much out in that,\u201d assented the lady.\n\n\u201cRoxham struck me as being rather smitten the other night; did you notice\nanything in that direction,\u201d inquired Sir Simon carelessly, as he rose\nto go. \u201cI was too busy to see much of what was going on in the way of\nflirtation, but I fancied he was rather assiduous!\u201d\n\n\u201cNow, that would be a very nice thing!\u201d And the mother who had made many\nmatches brightened up with lively interest. \u201cI should like to help on\nthat; it would be quite an exciting amusement, and I have nothing to do\njust now.\u201d\n\n\u201cTake care!\u201d and Sir Simon raised his finger with a warning gesture; \u201cyou\nmay have a social nuisance on your hands before you know where you are.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! I don\u2019t mind when it\u2019s of my own making,\u201d said the dowager; \u201cthat\nquite alters the case.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen you will drive over to-morrow or next day and call at The Lilies?\u201d\n\nSir Simon mounted Nero in high good humor; whistled a hunting air as he\ndashed through the stiff Wellingtonias that flanked the long avenue at\nRydal, and never drew rein until he alighted at his own door.\n\nM. de la Bourbonais greeted Lady Anwyll with the innate courtesy of a\ngrand seignior, and never let her see by so much as a look that her\nvisit was not an agreeable surprise. Yet it was not so. Since that\nconversation with Sir Simon about Franceline\u2019s fortune, an uneasy\nfeeling had possessed him, and he had shrunk back more sensitively than\never into his shell of reserve and isolation. He had been content, or\nrather compelled, to leave matters entirely in Sir Simon\u2019s hands, or\nin the hands of fate, but he did not feel at rest, and he had no mind\nto launch out into new acquaintances just at a moment when his mind\nwas disturbed by strange probabilities, and his habitual abstraction\nbroken up by vague anxieties, that could not take any definite shape as\nyet. But Lady Anwyll saw nothing of this in the old gentleman\u2019s courtly\ngreeting; she saw that Franceline had welcomed her with a warmth that\nwas unmistakable--childlike and gleeful, and fettered by no ice bands of\nconventional politeness.\n\nThe dowager\u2019s visit was indeed welcome; the utter silence that had\nsucceeded to the stir and agitation of the past few weeks had fallen\nupon Franceline like a snow-drift in the midst of summer; the return to\nthe old stagnant life was dreadful--she felt chilled to death by it.\nThe reaction was natural enough to one of her age and circumstances;\nbut we know that there was a deeper reason for her sense of loneliness\nand weariness than the mere relapse into routine and dulness after a\nseason of excitement. Where was Mr. de Winton, and why had he gone off\nin that strange way, without a sign or a word, leaving her trembling and\nexpectant on the threshold of her awakened womanhood?\n\nIt was more than a week now since he went, and she had not heard his name\nonce mentioned, and there was no prospect of her hearing any one speak\nof him; since neither her father nor Sir Simon did so. Lady Anwyll came\nlike a messenger and a link; Lady Anwyll was in Clide\u2019s world, the wide,\nwide world beyond her own small sphere where no one knew him. This was\nunconsciously the reason of Franceline\u2019s joyous greeting. Sir Simon had\ncome with the dowager; they had walked down through the park together,\nand it was the first time in her life that Franceline was not thoroughly\nglad to see him. He was not quite like his usual self either, to her, she\nfancied. He rattled on in his own way, telling stories and making jokes,\nand then catching up some chance words of Raymond\u2019s and quarrelling with\nthem, until their author waxed warm, and was drawn out into an elaborate\nrefutation of some meaning that he never dreamed of giving them, but into\nwhich Sir Simon had purposely twisted them; and finally accomplishing his\naim of keeping the conversation on abstract subjects and not letting it\nslip into the dangerous path of personal or local events.\n\n\u201cSo you will let me come and take you out for a drive sometimes,\u201d Lady\nAnwyll said, as she rose to take leave, \u201cand by-and-by, when you get used\nto the old woman, perhaps you will come and spend a day or two with her\nin her big, lonely house? You will not be always afraid of her?\u201d\n\n\u201cI am not afraid of her now,\u201d protested Franceline, looking with her\nradiant dark eyes straight into the old lady\u2019s face, \u201cyou don\u2019t look\nwicked at all.\u201d\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t I? Then more shame for me; that shows I\u2019m a hypocrite, a whitened\nsepulchre, my dear,\u201d and she nodded emphatically at Franceline, and gave\na little groan.\n\n\u201cFor goodness\u2019 sake don\u2019t come Miss Bulpit over us!\u201d cried Sir Simon,\nholding up his hands. \u201cI\u2019ll bolt at once if you take to that.\u201d And with\nthis pretence of alarm he hurried out of the room.\n\n\u201cThen, since you are not frightened at me, you will promise to come very\nsoon. Let us settle it at once--for Thursday next?\u201d and she held the\nyoung girl\u2019s hand in both her own, and looked to M. de la Bourbonais for\nassent.\n\nBut Raymond began to settle his spectacles, and was for explaining how\ndifficult it would be for him to part with his daughter even for a day,\nand how unaccustomed she was to going anywhere alone, when Sir Simon\ncalled out from the garden:\n\n\u201cTut, tut, Bourbonais, that\u2019s precisely why she must go; you must not\nmope the child in this way; she must gad about a bit, like other girls.\nIt will do her good; it will do her good.\u201d\n\nThe three came out and joined him, walking round to the back entrance\nthrough which the visitors were going to re-enter the park.\n\n\u201cI shall get a few young people together, so it will not be so very dull\nfor you, my dear,\u201d continued Lady Anwyll, as they walked four abreast on\nthe grass; \u201cand I can mount you; I know you ride.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! I don\u2019t think she would care--\u201d began Raymond; but Sir Simon cut him\nshort again.\n\n\u201cIs your son coming down for a shot at the partridges?\u201d\n\n\u201cNot he; at least not that I know of; he is off fishing near Norway, or\nwas the last time I heard of him; but for all I know he may have joined\nyour friend young De Winton at the North Pole by this. Well, good-by, my\ndear. I should dearly like a kiss. Would you mind kissing the old woman?\u201d\n\nFranceline put her soft, vermilion lips to the wrinkled cheek. Neither\nLady Anwyll nor Raymond saw how instantaneously the blood had forsaken\nthem, leaving them white as her brow; but Sir Simon did, and it smote\nhim to the heart. He walked on before the good-bys were over, ostensibly\nto give some order about the carriage that was drawn up at a turn in the\navenue, but in reality to avoid meeting Raymond\u2019s glance.\n\nLate that evening a note came to The Lilies to say that he was obliged\nto start at a moment\u2019s notice for the south of France, where his\nstep-mother, Lady Rebecca, was dangerously ill. He was sorry to have to\nrush off without saying good-by, but he had not a moment to lose to catch\nthe express.\n\nSir Simon did start by the express, and after a day or two in London,\nwhere he saw Admiral de Winton, and ascertained that nothing new had\nturned up in Clide\u2019s affairs, he thought he might just as well go to\nthe south of France, where he would be within reach of his interesting\nrelative in case she should need him, or die, which the older she grew\nthe less she seemed inclined to do, in spite of Mr. Simpson\u2019s periodical\ntolling of her death-knell. Fate, that abstract divinity invoked by\npagans and novelists, interfered with the fulfilment of Franceline\u2019s\nengagement to Lady Anwyll. A letter--a real letter--awaited her at\nhome from her son-in-law, saying that his wife was taken suddenly ill,\nand entreated her mother to come to her without delay. Franceline was\nrather glad than sorry when the note came to postpone her visit. The\ndesire to go to Rydal was gone. She wanted to be left alone. She was\nnot equal to the effort of seeming amused. And yet, again, in another\nway she regretted it. A day or two\u2019s absence from her father would\nhave been a relief; the strain of keeping up false appearances before\nhim was worse than it need have been amongst strangers; it would have\nsufficed them to be calm; at home she must be gay. After the sudden shock\nwhich those words so carelessly uttered by Lady Anwyll had caused her,\nFranceline\u2019s first thought was to screen her feelings from her father.\nShe was helped in her effort to do this by her certainty that he had no\nkey to them, that he had not for a moment connected her and Clide de\nWinton in his thoughts. If she had known how much had been disclosed to\nhim, how closely he had watched her ever since that fatal conversation\nwith Sir Simon, concealment would have been impossible. As it was, she\nfound it hard enough; but there was an unsuspected strength of will,\na vitality of power in her, that enabled her to act the part she had\nresolved upon. She called up all her love for her father and all her\nnative woman\u2019s pride and maiden delicacy to the effort, and she achieved\nit. Her father watched her with the jealous eye of anxious affection,\nbut he could see nothing forced in her spirits; he heard no hollow note\nin her laugh; he saw no trace of sadness in her smile. She was merrier,\nbrighter, more talkative for several days after Lady Anwyll\u2019s visit than\nhe remembered to have seen her. Raymond sighed with relief many times\na day as he heard her singing to herself, or caressing her doves with\nnew names of endearment and fresh delight. She succeeded perfectly in\nblinding him, but not in silencing the wild tumult of her own heart. It\nwas all mystery yet; pain and wonder were predominant, but hope was not\nabsent from the chaos of conflicting emotions, and there was nothing of\nwounded self-respect, no definite feeling of reproach towards Clide. It\nseemed as if everything were a mistake; no one had done anything wrong,\nand yet everything had gone wrong. Was it all a dream the life she had\nbeen living for those few blissful weeks? Was his devotion to her, his\nexclusive assiduity during all that time, nothing but the customary\ndemeanor of a gentleman to a young girl in whose society chance had\nthrown him? Franceline asked herself this over and over again, and could\nonly find one answer to it--the echo of her own heart. But what did she\nreally know about such things--what standard had she to go by? What had\nshe ever seen to guide her in forming a reasonable conclusion?--for\nshe wanted to be reasonable: to judge calmly without listening to the\nlongings and tyrannical affirmations of this heart. \u201cHe may have been\nso assiduous in attending me in my rides simply to please Sir Simon,\u201d\nwhispered reason; but the response came quickly: \u201cNeed he have looked and\nspoken as he did to please Sir Simon? And that night of the ball, was it\nto please Sir Simon that he was stung and angry when I deserted him for\nLord Roxham? Was it for that that he spoke those words that had set my\nevery fibre thrilling? \u2018What does anything matter to us, Franceline, as\nlong as we are not angry with each other?\u2019 To what melting tenderness\nwas his voice toned as he uttered them! How his glance sought mine and\nrested in it, completing all that the words had left unsaid! And I am\nto believe that he had meant no more than the customary gallantries of\na man of the world to his partner in the dance?\u201d She laughed to herself\nas the outrageous question rose in her thoughts. Then, apart from this\nunanswerable testimony, there was evidence of Clide\u2019s feelings and\nmotives towards herself in his conduct towards her father. How anxious he\nhad shown himself to please M. de la Bourbonais, to secure his advice and\nfollow it, and make her aware that he did so! No; she had not assuredly\nbeen won unsought. This certainty supported and cheered her. If she had\nbeen sought, she would be sought again. Clide would return and claim\nwhat he had won. It was impossible to doubt but that he would. Whenever\nFranceline arrived at this point in her cogitations her spirits rose to\nsinging pitch, and she would break out into carol and song, like a bird,\nand run down to Ang\u00e9lique and tease her to exasperation, pulling out her\nknitting-needles and playing tricks like a kitten, till she drove her\nnearly frantic, and sent her complaining to M. le Comte that _la petite_\nwas grown as full of mischief as a squirrel; there was no being safe a\nminute from her tricks once your back was turned. And Raymond would look\nup with a beaming face, and beg pardon for the culprit. \u201cShe keeps life\nin our old veins, ma bonne,\u201d he would say; \u201cwhat should we do without our\nsinging bird?\u201d\n\nBut there were days when the singing bird was silent, when there\nwas no music in her, and when she could have broken into passionate\ntears if they had not been restrained by a strong effort of will.\nThese alternations, however, passed unobserved by the two who might\nhave noticed them. Raymond had made up his mind that Sir Simon\u2019s\nbrilliant scheme had failed, and that as the failure had dealt no blow\nat Franceline\u2019s happiness, it was not to be regretted. It had been\naltogether too brilliant to be practicable; he felt that from the first,\nand his instinct served him better than Sir Simon\u2019s experience, shrewd\nman of the world though he was. \u201cKind, foolish friend, his affection\nblinded him and made him see everything as he desired it for Franceline,\nand now he is vexed with himself, and ashamed very likely, and so he\nkeeps away from me. Perhaps he imagines I would reproach him. This poor,\ndear Simon has more heart than head.\u201d\n\nAnd with these indulgent reflections, Raymond sank back into his dreamy\nhistorical world, and left off watching the changeful aspects of his\nchild. She was safe; things were just as they used to be.\n\nA month went by; during that time one letter had come from the baronet,\naffectionate as ever, but evidently written under some feeling of\nrestraint. He talked of the annoyances he had had on the road, and\nthe loss of some of his luggage, and about French politics. M. de le\nBourbonais fancied he saw through the awkwardness; he answered the letter\nin a more than usually affectionate strain; was very communicative about\nhimself and Franceline, who was growing quite beyond Ang\u00e9lique\u2019s and his\ncontrol, he assured his friend, and required Sir Simon\u2019s hand to keep\nher within bounds, so he had better hasten home as quickly as possible\nif he had any pity for the two victims of her tyranny and numberless\ncaprices. This letter had the effect intended; it brought another without\nmany days\u2019 delay, and written with all the _abandon_ and spirit of the\nwriter\u2019s most cheerful mood.\n\nLady Anwyll returned at the end of the month, and bore down on The Lilies\nthe very next day. Franceline would have fought off if she could have\ndone so with any chance of success; but the dowager was peremptory in\nclaiming what had been distinctly promised, and she agreed to be ready\nthe next day to accompany the old lady to Rydal.\n\nAng\u00e9lique put her biggest irons in the fire, and smoothed out her young\nmistress\u2019s prettiest white muslin dress, and set her sashes and ribbons\nin order, and was as full of bustle as if the quiet visit a few miles off\nhad been a wedding.\n\n\u201cI am glad the _petite_ is going; it will do her good,\u201d she observed,\ncomplacently, as she brought in the lamp and set it down on the count\u2019s\ntable that evening.\n\n\u201cWhy do you think it will do her good? Is she suffering in any way?\u201d said\nthe father, a sudden sting of the old fear giving sharpness to his voice.\n\n\u201cBont\u00e9 divine! How monsieur takes the word out of one\u2019s mouth!\u201d\nejaculated Ang\u00e9lique, throwing up her hands like an aggrieved woman;\n\u201cwhy, a little distraction always does good at mamselle\u2019s age; look at\nme: it would put new blood into my old veins if I could go somewhere and\ndistract myself.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou find it very dull, my good Ang\u00e9lique?\u201d And the master turned a\nkindly, almost penitent glance on the nut-brown face.\n\n\u201cH\u00e9! listen to him again! One does not want to be dying of _ennui_ to\nenjoy a little distraction; one does not think of it, but when it comes\none may like it!\u201d She gave the shade a jerk that made it spin round the\nlamp, and walked off in high dudgeon.\n\nFranceline was conscious of a pleasurable flutter next day, when she\nheard the carriage crunching the gravel, and presently Lady Anwyll came\nround on foot, followed by the footman, who carried off her box and\nsecured it in some mysterious part of the vehicle. She was flushed when\nshe kissed her father and said good-by; he thought it was the pleasure of\nthe \u201clittle distraction\u201d that heightened her color, and that took away\nthe pang of the short parting.\n\n\u201cYes, decidedly, a change does her good,\u201d he mentally remarked; \u201cI must\nlet her take advantage of any pleasant one that offers.\u201d\n\nIt was an event in Franceline\u2019s life, going to stay at a strange house.\nThe Court was too much like her own home, and she had known it too long\nand too early to feel like a visitor there, or to be overpowered by its\nsplendors. Rydal was not to be compared to it either for architectural\nbeauty or magnitude, or for the extent and beauty of the grounds and\nsurrounding scenery. The Court was a grand baronial hall; Rydal was\nan old-fashioned manor house; low-roofed, straggling, and picturesque\noutside; spacious and comfortable inside; with enough of the marks of\ntime on the furniture and decorations to stamp it as the abode of many\ngenerations of gentlemen. A low-ceiled square hall, with sitting-rooms\nopening into it on either side, and quaint pictures and arms ornamenting\nits walls, received you with a hospitable hearth, where a huge log\nwas blazing cheerily under a high, carved oak mantel-piece. It was not\nflagged with marble, nor supported by majestic columns like the Gothic\nhall of the Court, but it had a charm of its own that Franceline felt,\nand expressed by a bright exclamation as she alighted in it.\n\n\u201cCome in and sit down for a moment in the drawing-room,\u201d said Lady\nAnwyll. \u201cI always rest before toiling up-stairs, my dear; and you must\nfancy yourself an old woman and do so too.\u201d\n\nFranceline followed her into the handsome square room. Two projecting\nwindows thrust themselves out to the west to catch the last rays of the\nsetting sun at one end, and another bulged out southward to sun itself\nin the noon-tide warmth; an old-fashioned sofa was drawn close to the\nfire. Franceline fancied she saw the soles of two boots resting on the\narm facing the door; and was beginning to wonder where the body was that\nthey might belong to, when the dowager suddenly cried out in tones of\namazement rather than delight:\n\n\u201cGood gracious, Ponce! what brought you back, and when did you come? I\nverily believe you have got some talisman like Riquet with the Tuft for\nflying about the world like a bird! Where have you come from now?\u201d\n\nShe stooped down to kiss the invisible head that lay at the other end of\nthe figure, and a voice from the cushions answered: \u201cI pledged my word I\nwould be back in a day and a month; did you ever know me break my word,\nlady mother?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou so seldom commit yourself by pledging it to me that I hardly\nremember; however, now that you are here, I am glad to see you, and to\nbe able to offer you a reward for your punctuality. Come here, my dear,\nand let me introduce my son Ponsonby to you.\u201d\n\nThe recumbent giant was on his feet in an instant, with an involuntary\n\u201cHollo!\u201d as Franceline advanced at his mother\u2019s bidding.\n\n\u201cThis is Mlle. de la Bourbonais, Ponce; my son, Captain Anwyll.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is not often punishment overtakes the guilty so fast,\u201d said the\ngentleman, with a very low bow, and an awkward laugh; \u201cI so seldom\nindulge in the laziness of stretching my long legs on a sofa, that it\u2019s\nrather hard on me that I should be caught in the act by a lady. Mother,\nyou ought to have given me notice in time.\u201d\n\n\u201cServed you right! I\u2019m glad you were caught; and, my dear, don\u2019t you mind\nhis _seldom_; when he is not flying through the air or over the water,\nthis big son of mine is stretching himself somewhere. Come, now, and get\nyour things off.\u201d As they were leaving the room, she looked back to ask\nher son if he \u201chad brought the regiment down with him,\u201d and on hearing\nthat he had left that appendage in Yorkshire, his mother observed that it\nwas like him to leave it behind just when it might have been useful.\n\nThere are some people who, though inert and quiet themselves, have a\nfaculty for putting everybody about them in a commotion. Ponsonby Anwyll\nwas one of these. When he came down to Rydal it was as if an earthquake\nshook the place. He wanted next to no waiting on, yet somehow every\nservant in the house was busied about him. He was like a baby in a house,\nexacting nothing, but occupying everybody.\n\nHe was constantly either overturning something, or on the point of doing\nit. Like so many men of the giant type, he was as gentle as a woman and\nas easily cowed; and like a woman, he always wanted somebody at his elbow\nto look after him. If he attempted to light a lamp, ten to one he upset\nit and spoiled a table-cover or a carpet, or he let the chimney fall, and\ncut his fingers picking up the bits to prevent some one else\u2019s being cut.\nHe took next to no interest practically in the estate; yet his tenantry\nwere very fond of him; he never bothered them about improvements or\nabuses, and they were more obliged to him for letting them alone than for\nbenefiting them against their will. Whenever he interfered it was to take\ntheir part against the agent, who could not see why the tenants were to\nbe let off paying full rents because the harvest happened to be a failure\none year, when it had been good so many preceding ones. Lady Anwyll would\nbully and storm and protest that he was ruining the property, and that\nthey would all end in the Union; but Ponsonby soon petted her into good\nhumor. In her heart of hearts she was proud of her big, easy-going son,\nwho cared so little for money, and she was as pleased to be patronized by\nhim as a little kitten is when the powerful Newfoundland condescends to a\ngame of romps with it.\n\nWhen Franceline, in her white muslin dress, floated into the\ndrawing-room, like a summer cloud, the Newfoundland was standing on the\nhearth-rug, with its eyes fixed expectantly on the door. Lady Anwyll was\ngenerally down long before her son. Ponce took an age to get out of one\nset of clothes and into another; but he had the start of her to-day.\n\n\u201cYou have had a nice drive from Dullerton,\u201d he began; how else could he\nbegin? \u201cBut I fear the weather is on the turn; those clouds over the\ncommon look mischievous.\u201d\n\n\u201cAre you weatherwise?\u201d inquired Franceline, following his eyes to the\nwindow.\n\n\u201cNot he, my dear! He\u2019s not wise in anything!\u201d answered a voice from\nbehind her.\n\n\u201cMother, this is positively too bad of you! I protest against your taking\naway my character in this fashion, before I have a chance of making one\nwith Miss Franceline. You begin by making me out the laziest dog in\nChristendom, and now you would rob me of my one intellectual quality! You\nknow I am weatherwise! They call me Girouette in the 10th, because I can\ntell to a feather how the wind is blowing; \u2019pon my honor they do, Miss\nFranceline!\u201d\n\nFranceline was going to assure him of her entire faith in this assertion\nwhen dinner was announced, and they crossed the hall into the dining-room.\n\n\u201cNow, tell us something about where you\u2019ve been and what you\u2019ve seen and\ndone,\u201d said the dowager; \u201cand try and be as entertaining as you can, for\nyou see there is no one else to amuse my young friend.\u201d\n\n\u201cI\u2019m sure I should be very proud; I wish I could remember something\namusing to tell; but that\u2019s the deuce of it, the more a fellow wants to\nbe pleasant the less he can. Do you care to hear about fishing?\u201d This was\naddressed to Franceline. There was something so boyish in his manner,\nsuch an entire absence of conceit or affectation, that, in spite of other\ndeficiencies, she liked the shy hussar, and felt at ease with him.\n\n\u201cI dare say I should if I understood it at all; but I do not. But I am\nalways curious to know about foreign places and people,\u201d she said.\n\n\u201cOh! I\u2019m glad of that; I can tell you plenty about no end of places,\u201d\nanswered the traveller promptly; \u201cbut I dare say you\u2019ve seen them all\nyourself; everybody goes everywhere nowadays.\u201d\n\n\u201cI have never been out of Dullerton since I came here as a child, but\nonce for a few days to London,\u201d said Franceline; \u201cso you can hardly go\nwrong in telling me about any foreign place.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow odd! Well, its rather refreshing too. I suppose you are nervous,\nafraid of the water, or the railway?\u201d\n\n\u201cNot the least. I am too poor to travel.\u201d She said it as simply as if she\nhad stated that the rain had prevented her going for a walk.\n\n\u201cOh, indeed! That is a hindrance to be sure,\u201d blundered out Ponsonby;\n\u201cbut people are better off that stay at home. One is always within an\ninch of getting one\u2019s neck broken, or one\u2019s eye put out; and people very\noften do come to grief travelling. I dare say you wouldn\u2019t like it at\nall.\u201d\n\n\u201cGetting her eyes put out? I should think not!\u201d chimed in his mother,\nwith a mocking chuckle.\n\n\u201cI meant the whole thing,\u201d pursued Ponce. \u201cThe only chance one has is to\ngo straight through like a letter in the post, from one place to another,\nand stick there, and not go posting about from place to place, as we did\nin Rome, now. That is a pleasant place to go to. I bet anything you\u2019d\nenjoy Rome awfully; everybody does; and now they\u2019ve got good hotels, and\nyou can get as good a dinner as any fellow need care to eat. Only you\nwould not like the popish ways of the place. That\u2019s the deuce of it, you\ncan\u2019t get out of the way of that sort of thing; it\u2019s in the air, you see;\nbut one grows used to it after a while, as one does to the bad smells.\u201d\n\n\u201cI should not suffer from that. I am a Catholic,\u201d said Franceline, her\ncolor rising slightly.\n\n\u201cOh, indeed! I beg your pardon; I had no idea; of course that makes all\nthe difference,\u201d stammered the hussar, mentally comparing himself to\nPatrick, who could never open his mouth without putting his foot in it.\n\nLady Anwyll had now despatched her dinner, or as much of the long meal as\nshe ever partook of. Feeling that the conversation was not progressing\nvery favorably between her son and her guest, she took the reins in her\nown hand, and by dint of direct questions and an occasional touch of the\nspur she managed to make time trot on in a straggling but on the whole\namusing style of talk, half narrative, half anecdote, until dinner was\nended, and she and Franceline migrated to the drawing-room, leaving the\ncaptain to discuss the claret in solitary state.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe next morning at breakfast Lady Anwyll proposed that the two young\npeople should go for a ride after lunch. Franceline demurred, on the\nplea that she had never ridden but one horse and was afraid to trust\nherself on any other. The captain, however, settled this difficulty,\nby volunteering to send a man over to Dullerton for Rosebud. She would\ncome at an easy pace, and after an hour\u2019s rest be ready for the road.\nOn seeing the point so satisfactorily arranged, Franceline immediately\ndismissed her terrors, and thought it would be rather desirable to try\nhow she could manage on a strange horse. She could not plead that she\nhad forgotten her riding habit, for Ang\u00e9lique had remembered it, as well\nas the hat and gloves and whip, all of which had been packed up with her\nother clothes.\n\nThe weather was fine, a bright sun beamed from a stainless sky; the furze\non the common was yellow enough still to illuminate the flat expanse of\nthe country round Rydal, and as Franceline dashed through the golden\nbushes on her spirited steed, her youth vindicated itself, the young\nblood coursed joyously through her veins, her spirits rose, and soon\nthe exercise that she begun reluctantly became one of keen enjoyment.\nCapt. Anwyll was not a very interesting companion, but he was natural\nand good-natured, and anxious to please; he knew now what ground he was\ntreading, too, and made no more blunders, but chatted on without shyness\nor effort, and was pleasant enough.\n\n\u201cRoxham is coming to dinner. You know Roxham? A capital fellow; a dead\nshot; a clever fellow too; goes in strong for politics and philanthropy\nand so forth. He\u2019ll be in the ministry one of these days I dare say, and\nsetting the country by the ears with his reform crochets, and that sort\nof thing: his head is full of them.\u201d\n\n\u201cNot a bad sort of furniture either. Why don\u2019t you follow his example?\u201d\ndemanded Franceline.\n\n\u201cMe! How satirical you are! That\u2019s not my line at all. I don\u2019t go in for\npolitics--only for soldiering, if there were any to do. They set me up as\nliberal candidate for the last elections, but when I found it was not to\nbe a walk-over, and that I was to contest it, I backed out. My mother was\ndreadfully savage. But bless her! she does not understand it a bit. I\u2019m\nno hand at making speeches and addressing constituents. Now, Roxham can\nhold forth by the hour to a mob, or to any set of fellows; it\u2019s wonderful\nto see how he spins out the palaver--and first-rate palaver it is, I can\ntell you. You should hear him on the hustings! We\u2019ll make him describe a\ngreat row he and the liberal candidate had at the last elections, when\nRoxham beat him out of the field in grand style; he was no match for\nRoxham anyhow, and besides he had a stutter, and when he was in a passion\nhe couldn\u2019t get a word out without stamping like a vicious horse. It\u2019s\ngreat fun to hear Roxham tell it; we\u2019ll make him do so this evening. It\nwill amuse you.\u201d\n\nFranceline laughed. The name of Lord Roxham and the mention of his\nelectioneering feats recalled a scene that was seldom absent from her\nmemory now. Every trifling detail of that scene rose vividly before her\nas she listened to Captain Anwyll. Would he never allude to one figure\nin it that overshadowed every other? If she could but lead him to speak\nof Clide! Perhaps he could tell her something of his present movements;\nthrow some light on her perplexity.\n\n\u201cLord Roxham has a very handsome cousin, Lady Emily Fitznorman; do you\nknow her?\u201d she asked, carelessly.\n\n\u201cYes. A very nice girl as well as handsome.\u201d\n\n\u201cI wonder she\u2019s not married already.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou think she\u2019s on the wane! Wait a while; you won\u2019t think\nthree-and-twenty so antique by and by.\u201d\n\n\u201cI did not mean that; I thought she was about my own age,\u201d protested\nFranceline with vivacity; \u201cbut when one is so much admired as Lady Emily\nseemed to be that night at Dullerton, one wonders she is not carried off\nby some devoted admirer.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen you noticed that she had a great many? Would it be unfair to ask a\nfew names?\u201d\n\n\u201cMr. de Winton for one seemed very devoted.\u201d\n\n\u201cDe Winton! Humph! Who else?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy do you say \u2018humph\u2019? Is there reason why he should not be amongst the\nnumber?\u201d\n\n\u201cRather--that is to say perhaps--in fact, thereby hangs a tale.\u201d His face\nwore a quizzical expression as he spoke.\n\n\u201cWhat tale?\u201d She looked round with a quick, curious glance.\n\n\u201cOh! it\u2019s not fair to tell tales out of school, is it?\u201d\n\n\u201cCertainly not; I had no idea there was a secret in the way,\u201d said\nFranceline, bridling.\n\nPonsonby was not gifted with the knack of calm irrelevance; instead of\ndropping the subject and turning to something else, he resumed presently:\n\n\u201cDe Winton is a capital shot too--better than Roxham; I went boar-hunting\nwith him in Germany three years ago, and then black-cock shooting in\nPrussia, and I never knew him to miss his aim once.\u201d\n\n\u201cHe will come home laden with bears this time no doubt,\u201d she remarked\nwith affected coolness.\n\n\u201cBears! not he. He has other game to follow now. Are you up to taking\nthat fence, or shall we go round by the bridle-path? It makes it a good\nbit longer?\u201d\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t care to take the fence. Let us go round.\u201d\n\nShe put her horse at a canter, and they scarcely spoke again until they\nreached Rydal.\n\nLady Anwyll\u2019s voice sounded from the drawing-room, summoning her to\ncome in before going upstairs, but Franceline did not heed it. She went\nstraight to her room; she must have a few moments alone; she could not\ntalk or listen just now. While she was flying through the air, it seemed\nas if motion suspended thought, and kept her poised above the mental\nwhirlwind that Capt. Anwyll\u2019s words had evoked; but once standing with\nthe ground firm under her feet, thought resumed its power, and shook\noff the temporary torpor. She closed her door, and proceeded quietly to\ntake off her habit. As she did so a voice kept repeating distinctly in\nher ears, \u201cHe has other game to follow now!\u201d What did it, could it mean?\nWhy, since he had said so much, could he not in mercy have said something\nmore? But what did Capt. Anwyll know about mercy in the matter? What\nwas Mr. de Winton to her in his eyes? Nothing, thank heaven! Nor in any\none else\u2019s. It was from mystery to mystery; she could make nothing out\nof it. One fact alone grew clearer and clearer to her amidst the dim\nchaos--Clide de Winton was the loadstar that was drawing her thoughts,\nher longings, her life after him wherever he was. Everything else was\nvague and undefined. She could not blame any one; she could not grieve or\nlament; she could only lose herself in torturing conjecture. It wanted\nmore than an hour to dinner-time. Franceline had not the courage to spend\nit in the drawing-room, where she would be the object of Lady Anwyll\u2019s\nmotherly petting, and Ponsonby\u2019s flat gossip; she must have the interval\nto school herself for the effort that was before her for the rest of the\nevening. There were steps on the landing; she opened her door; one of the\nmaids was passing.\n\n\u201cPlease tell her ladyship that I am a little tired, and shall lie down\nfor half an hour before I dress.\u201d The servant took the message.\n\nFranceline did not lie down, however; she seated herself before the\nwindow, and thought. The exercise was not soothing, but it was a respite;\nand when she made her appearance in the drawing-room, there was so little\ntrace of fatigue about her that Lady Anwyll rallied her good-naturedly on\nthe cruelty of having stayed away under false pretences.\n\nLord Roxham met her with the frankness of an old acquaintance, and\nhad many pretty speeches to make about their last meeting. Franceline\nresponded with sprightly grace, and hoped he had come prepared to\ncomplete her education in parliamentary matters. The evening passed off\ngaily. Lord Roxham was a fluent if not a brilliant talker, and under the\nanimating influence of his lively rattle, Franceline\u2019s spirits rose,\nand her hosts, who had hitherto seen her rather willing to be amused\nthan amusing, were surprised to see with what graceful spirit she kept\nthe ball going, bandying light repartee with Lord Roxham, and pricking\nPonsonby into joining in the game with a liveliness that astonished him\nand enchanted his mother. The dowager chuckled inwardly, and applauded\nherself on the success of her little matrimonial scheme; she already saw\nFranceline a peeress, and happily settled as a near neighbor of her own.\nNone of the party were musical, but they did not miss this delightful\nelement of sociability, so unflagging was the flow of talk and anecdote;\nand when Lord Roxham started up at eleven o\u2019clock to ring for his horse,\nevery one protested he must have heard the clock strike one too many.\n\n\u201cCome and lunch to-morrow, and join these two in their ride,\u201d said Lady\nAnwyll, as she shook hands with him.\n\n\u201cAm I going to ride home?\u201d inquired Franceline, surprised.\n\n\u201cCertainly not! Nor drive either. You don\u2019t suppose I\u2019m going to let you\noff with one day\u2019s penance?\u201d\n\n\u201cO dear Lady Anwyll! papa will expect me to-morrow, and he will be uneasy\nif he does not see me; I assure you he will,\u201d pleaded Franceline.\n\n\u201cI can remove that obstacle,\u201d said Lord Roxham promptly. \u201cI must ride\nover to Dullerton early to-morrow morning, and I can have the honor of\ncalling at M. de la Bourbonais\u2019, and setting his mind at rest about you.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe very thing!\u201d cried Lady Anwyll, shutting up Franceline, who had an\nexcuse ready; \u201cyou can call at The Lilies on your way back, and tell the\ncount he is to expect this young lady when he sees her.\u201d\n\nLuckily Franceline was ignorant of the juxtaposition of the various seats\nround Dullerton, or it might have struck her as odd that Lady Anwyll\nshould propose the messenger\u2019s going a round of fifteen miles to call at\nThe Lilies \u201con his way back.\u201d But she suspected nothing, and when Lord\nRoxham alighted at Rydal next day punctually as the clock struck two P.M.\nshe greeted him with unabashed cordiality, and was all eagerness to know\nif he had seen her father, and what the latter had said.\n\nShe had slept restlessly, but she had slept; her anxiety had not as yet\nthe sting in it that destroys sleep. She did not fail to notice with\nrenewed wonder that Lord Roxham had studiously avoided mentioning Mr.\nde Winton\u2019s name. Studiously it must have been; for what more natural\nthan to have mentioned him when discussing the fairy _festa_ where they\nhad first met? She felt certain there must be a motive for so palpable a\nreticence, and the thought did not tend to reassure her. She had dressed\nherself before luncheon, so when the horses came round, they mounted at\nonce. Franceline, on starting, had mentally resolved to make Lord Roxham\nspeak on the subject that was uppermost in her mind--to put a direct\nquestion in fact, if everything else failed--but, strive as she might, he\nwould not be lured into the trap, and her courage sank so much on seeing\nthis that she dared not venture on a direct interrogation.\n\nThey stayed out until near sundown; the day was breezy and bright, and\nFranceline looked radiant with the excitement and exercise.\n\n\u201cLet us ride up to the knoll and see the sun go down behind the common,\u201d\nproposed Capt. Anwyll, as they were about to pass the park gate; \u201cthe\nsunset is the only thing we have worth showing at Rydal, and I\u2019d like\nMlle. de la Bourbonais to see it.\u201d\n\nHis companions gladly assented, and the party turned off the road into\na bridle-path across the fields which led to the elevation commanding\nan unbroken view of the spectacle. It seemed as if everything had been\npurposely cleared away from the landscape that could divert attention\nfor an instant from the glorious pageant of the western skies. Not a\nhouse was visible, and scarcely a habitation; the cottages were hid in\nthe flanks of the valley, and only reminded you of their existence by a\nthin vapor that curled up from a solitary chimney and quickly lost itself\nin the trees. Nothing gave any sign of life but the sheep browsing on the\ngilded emerald of the shorn meadows. The red and gold waves flooded the\nvast expanse of the horizon, flowing further and higher as the spectators\ngazed, until half heaven was on fire with a conflagration of rainbows.\nSwiftly the colors changed, crimson and orange first, then deep and\ntender shades of purple and green, until all melted into uniform violet,\nthe herald of the gathering darkness. They stood watching it in silence,\nFranceline with bated breath. The sunset always had a solemn charm for\nher, and she had never seen so vast and gorgeous a one as this. It was\nlike watching the dying throes of a divinity.\n\n\u201cThe play is over, the audience may retire!\u201d said Ponsonby, breaking the\npause; even he had been subdued by the sublimity of the scene.\n\n\u201cIf I were a pagan I should be a fire-worshipper,\u201d said Franceline, as\nthey moved away. \u201cI think the worship of the sun is the most natural as\nwell as the most poetic of all forms of idolatry.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat\u2019s just what De Winton said the first time he saw the sun set from\nhere!\u201d exclaimed Capt. Anwyll triumphantly; \u201chow comical that you should\nhave hit on the very same idea! He said, by the way, that it was the\nfinest sunset he had ever seen in England; it\u2019s so wide and low, you\nsee; he showed me a sketch he made of a sunset somewhere in the Vosges\nthat he said it reminded him of. I forget the name of the valley; but it\nwas uncommonly like; do you know the Vosges?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo; I have never been to that part of France.\u201d\n\nLord Roxham glanced at her as she said this in a clear, low voice. He\nsaw nothing in her countenance that afforded a clew to whatever he was\nlooking for.\n\nIt had grown chilly now that the sun had set, and they had been standing\nseveral minutes on the knoll. Of one accord the three riders broke into\na gallop as they entered the park, and dashed along between the pollard\nWellingtonias, standing stiff and stark as tumuli on either side of the\nlong avenue.\n\nLady Anwyll had gone to visit some poor sick woman in the neighborhood,\nand had not yet returned. The gentlemen went round to the stables, and\nFranceline to her room. She dressed herself quickly, wrote a short letter\nto her father according to her promise of writing to him every day during\nher absence, and then threw the window wide open and sat down beside it.\nIt was fresh enough, and she wore only her muslin dress, but she did not\nfeel the freshness of the air--she was too excited to be conscious of any\nexternal influence of the kind. She sat as motionless as a statue, gazing\nabstractedly over the empurpled sky where the moon appeared like a shred\nof white cloud. She had not sat there long when the fragrant fumes of a\ncigar came floating in through her window, followed soon by a sound of\nfootsteps and voices. Ponsonby and his guest were coming in. Franceline\ndid not close the window or move away, though the voices were now\naudible; the speakers had not entered the house; they were walking under\nthe veranda that ran round the front. What matter? They were not likely\nto be talking secrets; she was welcome to listen, no doubt, to whatever\nthey might have to say.\n\n\u201cThere is the carriage coming,\u201d said Ponsonby; \u201cmy mother is out too late\nwith her rheumatism; I\u2019ll pitch into her for it.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes; it doesn\u2019t do to stay out after sunset when one has any chronic\nailment of that sort. By the way, you mentioned De Winton just now; have\nyou heard of him lately?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo; not since he left Berlin. It seems he was very near kicking the\nbucket there; he was awfully bad, and nobody with him but his man\nStanton.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow did you hear about it?\u201d\n\n\u201cThrough Parker, a fellow in our regiment whose brother is _attach\u00e9_ at\nBerlin; the story made a sensation there, but no one knew of it until De\nWinton had left.\u201d\n\nThe speakers passed on to the end of the veranda, and Franceline could\ncatch nothing more until they drew near again. Lord Roxham was speaking.\n\n\u201cPoor fellow! It\u2019s tremendously hard on him, and I believe there is no\nredress; nothing to make out a case for divorce.\u201d\n\n\u201cI fancy not; but even if there were it would not be available, since\nhe\u2019s a Romanist.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! to be sure; I forgot that; but what a mystification the whole\nbusiness is! I\u2019ve known De Winton since we were both boys--we were Eton\nchums, you know--but he never breathed a word of it to me. Yet he\u2019s not a\nclose fellow; quite the contrary. And who the deuce is the woman? Where\ndid he come across her?\u201d\n\nThey passed out of hearing again, and when they returned the tramping of\nhorses and the crunching of wheels overtopped their voices. The sounds\nall died away; Lady Anwyll had come in, and gone to her room--every\none was waiting in the drawing-room, but Franceline did not appear.\nHer hostess, thinking she had not heard the dinner-bell, sent for her.\nPresently the maid came rushing down the stairs and into the forbidden\nprecincts of the drawing-room with a scared face.\n\n\u201cPlease, my lady, she\u2019s in a dead faint! I found her all in a heap on the\nfloor, ready dressed. I lifted her on to the bed, but she don\u2019t move!\u201d\n\nAn exclamation burst simultaneously from the three listeners. In a moment\nthey were all in Franceline\u2019s room; there she lay stretched on the bed,\nas the woman had said, white and still as death, one hand hanging, and\nher hair, that had been loosened in the fall, dropping on her shoulder.\nThe usual restoratives were applied, and in about a quarter of an hour\nshe gave signs of awakening--the veined lids quivered, the mouth twitched\nconvulsively, and a short sigh escaped her. Lady Anwyll signed to her\nson and Lord Roxham to withdraw; they had scarcely left the room when\nFranceline opened her eyes and stared about her with the blank gaze\nof returning consciousness. She swallowed some wine at Lady Anwyll\u2019s\nrequest, but soon put the glass away with a gesture of disgust. In answer\nto her hostess\u2019 anxious entreaties to say where she suffered, and why she\nhad swooned, the young girl could only say she had felt tired and weary,\nand that she longed to be left alone and go to sleep. Lady Anwyll agreed\nthat sleep would be the best restorative, and insisted on staying till\nshe saw her settled in bed; then she kissed her, and promising to come\nsoon and see if she was asleep, she left the room with a noiseless step.\n\n\u201cWhat is it? Is there anything much amiss, mother?\u201d was the captain\u2019s\nexclamation. Lord Roxham was equally concerned.\n\n\u201cNothing, except you have nearly killed her, both of you. You have ridden\nthe child to death; she is not accustomed to it, and she has overdone\nherself; but she will be all right I hope in the morning. There\u2019s nothing\nthe matter but fatigue, she assures me.\u201d\n\nPonsonby rated himself soundly for being such a brute as to have let\nher tire herself; he ought to have remembered that she was done up the\nday before after a much shorter ride. He was awfully sorry. His remorse\nwas no doubt quite genuine, but when they sat down to dinner he proved\nto demonstration that that feeling is compatible with an unimpaired\nappetite. Lady Anwyll left them before they had finished to see how\nFranceline was going on; she found her awake, but quite well, and going\nto sleep very soon, she assured the kind old lady.\n\n\u201cThen, my dear child, I will not have you disturbed again; if you wake\nand want anything, strike this gong, and Trinner will come at once. I\nwill make her sleep in the room next yours to-night.\u201d\n\nFranceline protested, but the dowager silenced her with a kiss; put out\nthe light, and left her.\n\nShe lay very still, but there was no chance of sleep for her. Sleep had\nfled from her eyes as peace had fled from her heart. She longed to get\nup, and find relief from the intolerable strain of immobility, but she\ndared not; her room was over a part of the drawing-room, and she might\nbe heard. The evening seemed to drag on with preternatural slowness. She\ncould hear the low hum of voices through the ceiling. Once there was a\nclatter of porcelain--probably Ponce overturning the tea-tray. At last\nthe stable-clock struck eleven; there was opening and shutting of doors\nfor a while, and then silence. Franceline sat up and listened until not a\nsound was anywhere to be heard. Every soul in the house had gone to bed.\nTrinner had come last of all to her room. The star made by her candle\ngleamed through the key-hole for a long time; at last it disappeared,\nand soon the loud, regular breathing told that she was fast asleep.\nFranceline rose, threw her dressing-wrapper round her, and drew back the\ncurtain from the window. It was a relief to let the night-lights in upon\nher solitude; the glorious gaze of the moon seemed to chase away phantoms\nwith the darkness. She felt awake now. All this time, lying there in the\nutter darkness, it seemed as if she were still in a swoon, or held in the\ngrip of a nightmare; she shook herself free from the benumbing clutch,\nand sat down close by the window, and tried to collect her thoughts.\nThere was one phantom which the moonlight could not dispel; it stood out\nnow distinctly as she looked at it with revived consciousness. Clide\nde Winton was a married man. It was to the husband of another that she\nhad given her heart with its first pure vintage of impassioned love.\nHe who had looked at her with those ardent eyes, penetrating her soul\nlike flame, had all along been another woman\u2019s husband. There was no\nmore room for hope, even for doubt; suspense was at an end; the period\nof dark conjecture was gone. It was clear enough, all that had been so\ninexplicable,--clear as when the lightning flashes out of a lurid sky,\nand illuminates the scene of an earthquake; a sea lashed to fury by winds\nthat have lost their current, ships sinking in billows that break before\nthey heave, the land gaping and groaning, trees uprooted, habitations\nfalling with a crash of thunder, all live things clinging and flying in\nwild disorder. Franceline considered it all as she sat, still and white\nas a stone, without missing a single detail in the scene.\n\nViolent demonstration was not in her nature. In pain or in joy it was\nher habit to be self-contained. She had as yet been called upon but\nfor very slight trials of strength and self-control; but such as the\nexperience was it had left behind it an innate though unconscious sense\nof power that rose instinctively to her aid now. She had fainted away\nunder the first shock of the discovery; but that tribute of weakness paid\nto nature, she would yield no more. Tears might come later; but now she\nwould not indulge in them. She must face the worst without flinching.\nWhat was the worst? Clide was a married man. That was bad enough in all\nconscience; yet there might be worse behind. Circumstances might cast a\nblacker dye even on this. Lord Roxham had spoken in a tone of sympathy:\n\u201cPoor fellow! It\u2019s tremendously hard on him.\u2026\u201d He would have spoken\ndifferently if there were any villany in question. But if Lord Roxham\nhad not thus indirectly acquitted him, Franceline would have done so\nspontaneously. Yes, even in the first moment of despair, while the flood\nwas sweeping over her, she acquitted him. He had dragged her down into\nunsounded depths of agony and shame, but he had not done it deliberately;\nhe was neither a liar nor a traitor. Had he not been brought to the jaws\nof death himself only a month ago? There was an indescribable comfort\nin the pang those words had inflicted. He too, then, was suffering;\nthey were both victims. Clide had never meant to deceive her; she would\nhave sworn it on the altar of her unshaken faith in him; she wanted\nno stronger evidence than the promptings of her own heart. She was\nconfident there would be some adequate explanation of whatever now seemed\nambiguous, when she should have learned all. No; she need not separate\nthe attribute of truth and honor from his image; she could no more do\nit than she could separate the idea of light from the pure maiden moon\nthat was looking down on her from heaven; she would see darkness in light\nbefore she would believe Clide de Winton false.\n\nThis irrepressible need of her heart once satisfied--Clide judged and\nacquitted--what then? Granted that he was innocent as yonder stars, how\ndid it affect her? What did it signify to her henceforth whether he was\ninnocent or guilty, true or false? He was the husband of another woman;\nas good as dead to Franceline de la Bourbonais; parted from her by a more\nimpassable barrier than death. If he were only dead she might love him\nstill, hold him enshrined in her heart\u2019s core with a clasp that death\ncould not sever--only strengthen. But he was worse than dead; he was\nmarried. She must banish him even from her thoughts; his memory must\nhenceforth be as far from her as the thought of murder, or any other\ncrime that her crystal conscience shuddered even to name. She might\nacquit him, crown him with the noblest attributes of manhood; but that\ndone, she must dismiss him from her remembrance, and forget him as if he\nhad never lived.\n\nFranceline had remained seated, her hands locked passively in her lap,\nwhile these thoughts shaped themselves in her mind. When they reached the\nclimax, expressed in these words: \u201cI must forget him as if he had never\nlived!\u201d she rose to her feet, clasped her forehead in both hands, and an\ninarticulate cry broke from her: \u201cIt would be easier to die!\u2026 If I had\nanything to forgive, that would help me! But I have nothing to forgive!\u201d\nIt would not have helped her, though she fancied so; it would have turned\nthe bitterness of the cup into poison. But she could not realize this\nnow. It seemed harder to renounce what was good and beautiful than to\ncast away what was unworthy. If the idol had uttered one false oracle,\ndemanded anything base, betrayed itself before betraying her, it would\nhave been easier, she thought, to overturn it. Indignation would have\nnerved her to the deed, and she would have dealt the blow without\ncompunction. But it had done nothing to forfeit her love and trust, and\nnevertheless she must dash it down and cast the fragments into the fire,\nand not preserve even the dust as a precious thing. What a merciful doom\nhis death would have been compared to this!\n\nHow was she to do it? Who would help her to so ruthless a demolition?\nDid any one speak in the silence, or was it only the unspoken cry of\nher own soul that answered? She had fancied herself alone; she had\nforgotten that a Presence was close to her, waiting to be invoked,\npatient, faithful, and protecting even while forgotten. The voice\nsounded sweet in its warning solemnity, and filled the lonely chamber\nwith a more benign ray than ever shone from midnight sky or blazing\nnoon. Franceline stretched out her arms to meet it, and with a loud\nsob fell upon her knees. \u201cO my God! forgive me! Forgive me, and help\nme! I have sinned, but my punishment is greater than I can bear!\u201d The\nfloodgates were thrown back; the tears fell in hot showers, the sobs\nshook her as the storm shakes the sapling. She knelt there crouching in\nthe darkness, her head leaning on her folded arms, and gave herself up\nto the passionate outburst, like a child weeping itself to sleep on its\nmother\u2019s breast. But this could not last. It was only a truce. The real\nbattle, the decisive one, had only now begun; what had gone before were\nbut the preliminaries. Hitherto she had thought only of her grief and\nhumiliation; she was now brought face to face with her sin--the sin of\nidolatry. She had made unto herself an idol of clay, and placed it on the\naltar of her heart, and burned incense before it with every breath she\ndrew; the smoke had made a mist before her eyes, but it was dissolving.\nShe looked into the desecrated sanctuary, and struck her breast with\nhumility and self-abasement. Her tears were flowing copiously, but they\nwere not all brine; she was drawing strength from their bitterness.\nVictory was not for \u201cthe days of peace,\u201d but for such an hour as this.\nShe had been trained from childhood in the hope of heaven, in the firm\nbelief that this life was but the transitory passage to the true home;\nthat its sorrows and joys were too evanescent, too unreal to be counted\nof more importance than the rain and wind that scatter the sunshine of a\nsummer\u2019s day; she had been taught, too, that the bliss of that immortal\nhome is purchased by suffering--a thing to be taken by violence, a crown\nto be grasped through thorns. Hitherto her adherence to this creed had\nbeen entirely theoretical; she accepted it, but in some vague way felt\nthat she, personally, was beyond its action. Her father had suffered; her\nmother, too, cut off in her happy bloom, had won the crown by a lingering\nillness and an early death; but she, Franceline, enjoyed, it would seem,\nsome privileged immunity from the stern law. Such had unawares been her\nreasoning. But now she was undeceived; her hour had come, and she must\nmeet it as a Christian. Now was the time to prove the sincerity of her\nfaith, the strength of her principles; if they failed her, they were no\nbetter than stubble and brass that dissolve at the first breath of the\nfurnace.\n\nA duel to the death is always brief: the foes close in mortal conflict;\nthe thrusts come fast and sharp; one or other falls. When Franceline\nlifted her head from her arms, the expression of the tear-stained face\nshowed which way the battle had gone: the victor stood erect with his\nfoot upon the victim\u2019s neck, unscathed, serene, and pitiless. Love lay\nbleeding and maimed, but Conscience smiled in triumph. \u201cI will not let\nthee go until thou hast blessed me,\u201d the wrestler had said, and the\nangel had blessed her before he fled.\n\nThe night was nearly spent when Franceline rose up from her knees, numbed\nand shivering, although the weather was not cold. She walked rapidly up\nand down for a few moments to warm herself; there was a spring in her\nstep, a light in her eyes, that told of recovered energy and unshaken\npurpose; her nerves might tingle, her heart might grieve, but they would\nneither faint nor quail. She dropped on her knees again for one moment\nand uttered a prayer, more of thanksgiving this time than supplication,\nand then lay down and soon fell asleep.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nWhen Franceline came down next morning, after breakfasting in her room\nas if she had been ailing, there was scarcely any trace in her aspect\nof the conflict of the night. Eyes do not retain the stains of tears\nvery long at eighteen, and if she was a trifle paler than usual, it was\naccounted for by the over-exertion which had brought the fainting fit.\nShe expressed a wish to go home as early as was convenient to her hosts,\nand they consented with reluctance, but without offering any resistance.\nLady Anwyll said the child was weary and dull, and that the next time she\ncame to Rydal they should make it livelier for her.\n\nWith what a feeling of regaining a haven of rest did Franceline enter\nthe little garden at The Lilies, where her father, warned by the sound\nof the wheels, hastened out and stood waiting to clasp her!--Ang\u00e9lique\ngraciously letting him have the first kiss, before she claimed her turn.\n\n\u201cWe have been like fishes out of water without thee!--have we not, ma\nbonne?\u201d was Raymond\u2019s joyful exclamation, as he gathered his child to\nhis heart, and then held her from him to look wistfully into the sweet,\nsmiling face.\n\n\u201cYes, we were dull enough without our singing bird, though I dare say she\ndidn\u2019t miss us much!\u201d was Ang\u00e9lique\u2019s rejoinder. Franceline declared she\nwould go away very soon again to teach them to value her more.\n\nBut the singing bird was not the same after this. The spirit that had\nfound utterance in its joyous voice was dead. A lark rises from the\nclover-field, and pours out its sweet, \u201charmonious madness\u201d over the\nearth; swiftly it soars away--away--into fathomless space, and while,\nspell-bound, we strain after the fading notes, lo! the sportsman\u2019s arrow\nhisses by, a cry rends the welkin, the songster is struck--he will never\nsing again.\n\nPerhaps you despise Franceline for allowing the loss of an imaginary\npossession to put the light out of her life in this way. As if our\nlives were not made desolate half the time by the loss of what we never\nhad! You will say that self-respect and pride ought to have come to her\naid, and enabled her to quench in blood, if needs be, the fire that her\nconscience pronounced guilty. But is the process so quickly accomplished,\nthink you? Franceline was doing her best; she was concentrating all the\nenergies of her mind and soul in the struggle, but it was not to be done\nin a day; the very purity of her love constituted its strength. If there\nhad been the smallest element of corruption in it, it would have died\nquicker; but its fibres were enduring because they were pure.\n\nYet she was not forgetful of her father and of all that he had hitherto\nbeen to her, and she to him; far from it. The effort to conceal her\nsufferings from him was a great help to her in controlling them, though\nit often taxed her strength severely. Sometimes, when the feeling of\nisolation pressed on her almost beyond endurance, when she felt that she\nmust have the solace of his sympathy, cost what it might, she would steal\ninto his study, determined to speak and let the murder out; but the sight\nof the venerable head bowed over his books, absorbed, and happy in his\nunconsciousness, would arrest her words and choke them back into silence.\nThe strain was hard, but was it not a mercy that she had as yet only\nher own burden to bear? What a price would she not have to pay for the\nmomentary relief of leaning it on him! What might not be dreaded from the\neffect of the revelation on his sensitive pride, and still more sensitive\nlove? And then the inevitable breach between him and his oldest, almost\nhis only friend, Sir Simon! They would leave The Lilies and go forth she\nknew not where. No; silence indubitably was best. To speak might be to\nkill her father.\n\nThis state of things lasted for a week, and then there was granted an\nalleviation. Father Henwick had been called to a distance to see his\nmother, who was dying; he arrived in time to assist her with his filial\nministry in the last passage; remained to settle all that followed, and\nthen came back to resume the even tenor of his life at Dullerton.\n\nFather Henwick was one of those men whom you may know for a lifetime,\nand never find out until some special circumstance reveals them. There\nwas no sign in his outward man of anything remarkable in the inner man.\nHe had not acquired, or at any rate retained, any French polish or grace\nfrom his early sojourn at the French seminary. His manners were very\nhomely, and abrupt almost to brusqueness; he was neither tall nor small,\nbut of that height which steers between the two, and so escapes notice;\nhis voice had the unmistakable ring of refinement and early education,\nyet he seldom associated with his equals, his intercourse being confined\nchiefly to the poor. These and their children were his familiars at\nDullerton. The latter looked on him as their especial property, and took\nall manner of liberties with him unrebuked--hanging on to his coat-tails,\nand plunging their audacious little paws into the sacred precincts of\nhis pockets, whence experience had taught them something might turn up\nto their advantage: penny whistles, Dutch dolls, buns, lollypops, and\ncrackers were continually issuing from those mysterious depths which the\nsmall fry sounded behind Father Henwick\u2019s back, and apparently unbeknown\nto him, while he administered comfort of another description to their\nelders.\n\nThe fact of his having been educated in France, and speaking French like\na Frenchman, accounted to the general mind of Dullerton for the eccentric\nhabits and unconventional manners of the Catholic priest, especially for\nhis shyness with his own class, and undue familiarity with those in the\nhumbler ranks. It ought to have established him on the footing of close\nintimacy at The Lilies; and yet it had not done so. M. de le Bourbonais\nprofessed and felt the greatest esteem for him, and made him welcome in\nhis gracious way; but Father Henwick was too shrewd an observer of human\nnature not to see exactly how far this was meant to go. Franceline\u2019s\nearly instruction had been confided to him, and the remembrance of the\npains he had taken with the little catechumen, the fondness with which\nhe had planted and fostered the good seed in her heart, made a claim\non Raymond\u2019s gratitude; but it did not remove an intangible barrier\nbetween the father in the flesh and the father in the spirit. M. de la\nBourbonais was a Catholic; if anybody had dared to impugn by one word the\nstanchness of his Catholicity, he would have felt it his painful duty to\nrun that person through the body; but, as with so many of his countrymen,\nhis faith ended here; it was altogether theoretical; he was ready at a\nmoment\u2019s notice to fight or die for it; but it did not enter into his\nviews to live for it. For Franceline, however, it was a different thing.\nReligion was made for women, and women for religion. With that tender\nreverence for his child\u2019s faith, which in France is so often the last\nbulwark of the father\u2019s, Raymond had been at considerable pains to hide\nfrom Franceline the inconsistency that existed between his own practice\nand teaching. When the great event was approaching which, in the life of\na French child especially, is surrounded by such touching solemnity, he\nmade it his delight to assist Father Henwick in preparing her for it,\nmaking her rehearse his instructions between times, or teaching her the\ncatechism himself. Then, to anticipate awkward questions and impossible\nexplanations, he made a point of rising early on Sundays and festivals\nand going to first Mass before Franceline was out of bed. The habit once\ncontracted, he continued it; so it came about naturally that she took\nfor granted her father did at a different hour what he attached so much\nimportance to her doing. In conversation with Father Henwick she had more\nthan once incidentally let this belief transpire; but he was not the one\nto undeceive her, or tear away the veil that parental sensitiveness had\ndrawn between itself and those childlike eyes. Neither was he one to\nbroach the subject indiscreetly to M. de la Bourbonais. A day might come\nfor speaking; meanwhile he was content to be silent and to wait.\n\nThe day Father Henwick returned to Dullerton after his mother\u2019s funeral,\nhis confessional was surrounded by a greater crowd than usual; his\nparishioners had a whole week\u2019s arrears of troubles and questions,\nspiritual and temporal, to settle with him, and it was late when he\nwas able to speak to Franceline. The conference was a long one; by the\ntime it was over the church was nearly empty; only a few figures were\nstill kneeling in the shadows as the young girl, coming out through\na side-door, walked through the graves with a quick, light step and\nproceeded homewards. Tears were falling under her veil, and a sob every\nnow and then showed that the source was still full to overflowing; but\nher heart was lighter than it had been for many days, her will was\nstrengthened and her purpose fixed. She was bent on being courageous, on\nwalking forward bravely and never looking back. She blessed God for the\ncomfort she had received and the strength that had been imparted to her.\nOh! she was glad now that she had resisted the first impulse to speak to\nher father, and had been silent.\n\nThat evening M. de la Bourbonais and Ang\u00e9lique remarked how cheerful she\nwas. She stayed up later than usual reading to Raymond, and commenting\nspiritedly on what she read; then bade him good-night with almost a\nrejoicing heart, and slept soundly until long past daybreak.\n\nTO BE CONTINUED.\n\n\nA VISIT TO IRELAND IN 1874.\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d said Mr. Bernard at the close of a long discussion, \u201cit _is_ quite\nmarvellous how little Englishmen know about Ireland! And their prejudices\nare the necessary consequence of such ignorance! I wish they could be\n_made_ to travel there more!\u201d\n\nNo one, perhaps, more heartily agreed with him than I did, taught by my\nexperiences of last autumn, which occurred in the following manner.\n\nI had been sometime absent from that country, a resident in London,\nwhen I unexpectedly received a pressing invitation last September,\nfrom a friend living in the County Westmeath, to cross St. George\u2019s\nChannel and pay her my long-promised visit. \u201cWestmeath!\u201d exclaimed my\nLondon circle--\u201cWestmeath! You must not dream of it! You\u2019ll be shot, my\ndear!\u201d said one old lady. \u201cTaken up by the police!\u201d said another. \u201cIt\u2019s\nridiculous, absurd!\u201d cried a third. \u201cRemember the Peace-Preservation\nAct and all that implies--murders, Fenians, Ribbonmen, police! Don\u2019t\nrisk your precious life amongst them, or we shall never lay eyes upon\nyou again!\u201d And they all looked as solemn as if they had received an\ninvitation to attend my Requiem, and were meditating what flowers to\nchoose for the wreaths each meant to lay upon my coffin.\n\nNothing, however, made me hesitate. Go I would, in defiance of all their\nremonstrances; for, I argued, if my friend, who herself owned land in\nWestmeath, could live there and see no impropriety in asking me, as a\nmatter of course I should run no risk in accepting her invitation. At\nlength, finding me obstinate, my cousin, Harry West, came forward, and,\nvolunteering to escort me, promised my relatives that he would judge for\nhimself, and if he saw danger would insist on my returning with him. He\nwas a middle-aged man, land agent of an estate in Buckinghamshire--one\nof the most peaceful counties in the United Kingdom--had never set\nfoot in Ireland, but, having been studying the Irish question--as he\nthought--and poring over the debates on this same Peace-Preservation Act\nlast session, held even gloomier views concerning Ireland than any of my\nother numerous acquaintances. In consequence, I looked upon this as the\nmost self-sacrificing act of friendship he could possibly offer. At the\nsame time, I accepted it.\n\nAccordingly, we started by the night mail which leaves Euston Square at\ntwenty-five minutes past eight P.M.\n\nFor the first two hours I was haunted, I confess, by the dread of the\nScotch limited mail running into us, as I knew it was to leave the same\nspot only five minutes later; and both trains being express, if any hitch\nshould occur to us between the stations, we might \u201ctelescope\u201d each other\nwithout any means of preventing it. At least, so it seemed to my ignorant\nmind. Harry fortunately knew nothing of this; but his thoughts were\nnone the less running upon danger, remembering some terrible accidents\nto this same Irish mail--notably the one some four years ago, when Lord\nand Lady Farnham, Judge Berwick and his sister, and others we knew, were\nreduced to a heap of ashes in a few minutes by an explosion of petroleum\nwhich caught fire in a collision. Luckily, Harry fell asleep on quitting\nChester, and never noticed the fatal spot, nor awoke until we drew up at\nfive minutes past three A.M. alongside the mail packet _Leinster_ some\nway out on the pier at Holyhead.\n\nThe night was fine, the sea calm, the passengers tired; so every one\nslept tranquilly until the stewardess, rushing into the ladies\u2019 cabin,\nannounced that we had passed the Kish light some time, and should be \u201cin\u201d\nin half an hour.\n\nWithout conveying any meaning to an English lady close by, the word\nquickly roused me; for it was full of memories--sad, yet happy. Many\nand many an evening, when living once on the Wicklow shore, had I\nsat watching on the far horizon the sparkling light which marked the\nwell-known light-ship nine miles off the Irish coast. Of a summer\u2019s night\nit shone like a twinkling star, suggestive of cool, refreshing breezes\nfar away upon the calm waters, when perchance a hot breeze hung heavily\nover the land; but in winter the simple knowledge of its existence, with\ntwo men living there on board in a solitude that was broken only once a\nmonth, while the winds and waves raged fiercely around the ship, often\nhaunted my dreams and made the stormy nights doubly dreary all along the\nWicklow sea-board.\n\n\u201cThe Kish light! Has not that a delightful, pleasant home sound?\u201d said a\nmiddle-aged woman near, looking at me as if she had divined my thoughts.\n\u201cAnd these boats--there are no others to be compared to them! The English\nhave no excuse for not coming to Ireland,\u201d she continued, \u201cwith vessels\nof this kind, that are like true floating bridges, so steady, swift, and\nlarge. Who could be ill in them? No one!\u201d\n\nI was puzzled to think who she could be; for though the face was not\nunfamiliar, I could give it no name. It was that of a lady, certainly,\nwith a bright, intelligent, happy expression; but I saw that her garb was\ncoarse as she bent and rummaged for something in her bag. In a moment,\nhowever, the mystery was solved by her lightly throwing a snow-white\npiece of linen over her head, which, as if by magic, took the form of the\ncornet of a Sister of S. Vincent de Paul.\n\n\u201cSister Mary!\u201d I exclaimed, \u201cwhom I knew at Constantinople!\u201d\n\n\u201cThe same,\u201d she answered. \u201cI thought I knew you!\u201d And shaking hands\ncordially, we sat down to talk over the past.\n\nShe was a native of Ireland--her accent alone betrayed her, though she\nhad not seen her native land for years--and I had known her in the East,\nafter which she had been to Algiers and various other parts. Now, to her\ngreat joy, she had been ordered for a while to one of the convents of\nthe order in Dublin--a joy which, though she tried, nun-like, to subdue\nit, burst forth uncontrollably the nearer we approached the land. Coming\nwith me on deck to watch our entrance into Kingstown Harbor, the first\nperson we met was Harry West, who eyed my companion with amazement; for\nhe had never seen a Sister of Charity in living form before, though he\nentertained that sort of romantic admiration for them which the most\nrigid Protestants often accord to this order, though they deny it to\nevery other. Turning round again, my surprise was great at encountering\nthe Bishop--the _Catholic_ Bishop--of ----shire, on his way to the\nconsecration of a church in the far west of Ireland. \u201cQuelle heureuse\nrencontre!\u201d said his lordship playfully; for we were very old friends.\n\u201cYou see I am attracted also to the _dear_ old country! You smile,\u201d he\ncontinued, noticing my amused expression as I introduced Harry to him.\n\u201cOh! yes, I know I am a Saxon, _pur sang_. But we English bishops and\npriests always feel as if we were at home the instant we put our foot\non shore in the Green Isle. There\u2019s Kingstown and its church, where I\nshall go to say Mass the moment we land. Watch, now!\u201d he added, as we\ndrew up alongside the jetty; \u201cyou\u2019ll see how civil the men will be the\ninstant they perceive I am a bishop.\u201d As he spoke a porter rushed by, and\nan impulse seized me to give him a hint to this effect. At once the man\nknelt down, in all his hurry, \u201cfor his lordship\u2019s blessing;\u201d nor did he\nlimit his attentions to this, but insisted on carrying his luggage, not\nonly on shore, but up to the hotel, refusing, as the bishop later told\nus, to accept a penny for his time and trouble--\u201cthe honor of serving his\nlordship and of getting his blessing was quite reward enough!\u201d\n\nHarry, standing by, could not believe his eyes. It was a phase of life\nquite unknown to him. But there was no time for meditation; the train was\non the pier, the whistle sounded, and we were soon on the road to Dublin.\n\nIt was Sunday--the one day of all others which, had I wished to show\nHarry the difference between the two countries, I should have purposely\nchosen; the one morning in the week when Dublin is astir from early dawn,\nand London, on the other hand, sleeps. Residents in the latter, Catholic\nresidents especially, are painfully aware of the difficulty of finding\ncab or conveyance of any kind to take them to early Mass, and know how,\nin the finest summer weather, they may wander through the parks without\nmeeting a human being until the afternoon. In England church-going\ncommences, properly speaking, at eleven o\u2019clock only, and then chiefly\nfor the upper classes; the evening services, on the contrary, are largely\nattended by the servants and trades-people, to meet which custom a\nvast majority of families dine on cold viands, or even relinquish the\nmeal altogether, substituting tea, with cold meat--or \u201cheavy tea,\u201d as\nit is generally called--for the ordinary social gathering. In Ireland,\nas in every Catholic country, the whole system is reversed, as the\nnatural consequence of the church discipline, which enjoins the hearing\nof Mass on the whole community, high and low; and--contrary to the\nProtestant system--once this obligation fulfilled, the attendance at\nevening service is necessarily much smaller. Harry never having even\nbeen out of England, except for a \u201crun up the Rhine\u201d some years before,\nand knowing no Catholic but myself, it never occurred to him to think\nof these distinctions, nor to suppose that he would find anything in\nIreland different from English ways, except that unlimited lawlessness\nthe existence of which he believed made life so impossible there.\n\nHe was in the process of recovering from his astonishment at the\nunfamiliar phraseology of the Westland Row railway porters when our\npassage to the cab was impeded by a crowd suddenly rushing along the\nfootway, met by an advancing one from the opposite direction, composed\nof the very poorest class, men, women, and children. Harry\u2019s lively\nimagination and preconceived ideas led him at once to conclude that it\nmust be a Fenian Hyde Park mob _renforc\u00e9_; and the bewildered horror of\nhis countenance at thus finding his worst fears realized the instant he\narrived at the Dublin terminus was beyond all description comic.\n\n\u201cAh! sure, your honor, it\u2019s the seven o\u2019clock Mass that\u2019s just over,\nand the half-past seven that is going to begin,\u201d explained the cabman,\npointing to the large church which stands at Westland Row adjoining\nthe railway station. \u201cSure, this goes on every half-hour until one\no\u2019clock. An\u2019t we all obliged to hear Mass, whatever else we do?\u201d And\nas we proceeded, I cross-questioned him for the benefit of my cousin.\nWe discovered that this same man had been to church at six o\u2019clock\nthat morning, belonged to a confraternity, approached the sacraments\nregularly, and performed various acts of charity in sickness and distress\namongst his fellow-members, in accordance with the rules of the said\nsociety; yet he was but poorly clad, and showed no outward signs of the\nremarkable intelligence with which he answered me on every point.\n\nAs usual on these occasions, the choice of a hotel had been puzzling,\nthe Shelbourne, Morrison\u2019s, Maple\u2019s, each having their distinctive\nadvantages; but at last we decided in favor of the Imperial, a quiet but\ncomfortable establishment facing the General Post-Office in Sackville\nStreet. The streets were alive with people as we crossed Carlisle Bridge,\npast Smith O\u2019Brien\u2019s white marble statue; and Harry could not help\nnoticing the contrast to England at that early Sunday hour.\n\nRefreshed by our ablutions and clean toilets, we were comfortably seated\nat breakfast, when sounds of music approaching caused us to rush to the\nwindow, and showed us a wagonette full of musicians in green uniform,\nplaying \u201cGarry Owen\u201d and \u201cPatrick\u2019s Day,\u201d followed by half a dozen\noutside cars full of men and women.\n\n\u201cFenians!\u201d cried Harry. \u201cI told you I could not be mistaken.\u201d\n\n\u201cOnly some trade guild going out for an innocent day\u2019s pleasure in the\ncountry; after having been to Mass too, I have no doubt,\u201d observed a\ngentleman close by, whose accent was unmistakably English. \u201cThis is not\nthe only custom that will seem new to you, if you are strangers,\u201d he\ncontinued, addressing Harry, and smiling meanwhile. \u201cNo two countries\never were more different than England and Ireland. I shall never\nforget my astonishment on arriving here two years ago. I could not\nget accustomed to it at all at first. I remember one circumstance\nparticularly which greatly struck me. I arrived on a Sunday morning,\nas you have done, and taking up the _Freeman\u2019s Journal_--one of the\nbest Dublin papers--on Monday, perceived a short paragraph in a corner,\nheaded, \u2018A Bishop Killed,\u2019 so small that it might easily have escaped\nnotice. Nor was there any allusion to it in any other part of the paper;\nbut, reading on, you may conceive my surprise at finding that \u2018a bishop\u2019\nwas no one less than the Bishop of Winchester, _the_ leading bishop\nin England, whose death by a fall from his horse, you will remember,\nconvulsed that country through its length and breadth. Not one of my\nacquaintances even--and I had many in Dublin--took the smallest interest\nin it. They had not followed his career; he had not the slightest\ninfluence in Ireland; and few knew his name, or that he was any relation\nto the great Wilberforce. On the other hand, they were at the time\nliving upon news from the North, where a police officer was on his trial\nfor the murder of a bank manager--a fact which no one in England gave\nthe smallest heed to. I had never heard of it. But that same afternoon\nthe head waiter of the hotel, unable to conceal his excitement, came\nup and whispered to me, \u2018He is condemned, sir! I have got a telegram\nfrom Omagh myself this instant.\u2019 I had only been thirty-six hours in\nIreland at the time, and, having merely glanced at the newspaper, knew\nnothing of the trial; so I was electrified and mystified beyond measure,\nand had no remedy but to sit down and study it. I then discovered it\nwas deeply interesting from its bearing upon all classes, and I could\nnot resist writing to some of the English papers and endeavoring to\nexcite them on the subject. But it would not do! No paper inserted my\nletter. The similarity of interest is not kept up continuously between\nthe two countries, owing very much, I think, to the little interchange\nof newspapers between them. I hope you have ordered your _Times_ to be\nforwarded, sir,\u201d he continued; \u201cfor you can\u2019t expect to find one to buy\nin Dublin. They\u2019ll always give you the _Irish Times_, if you merely ask\nfor the _Times_; they never think about the latter--far less than on the\nContinent.\u201d\n\nThis was a dreadful blow to Harry; for, like all Englishmen, he could\nnot exist without his _Times_ at breakfast, and, though I proposed that\nhe should write for it by that night\u2019s mail, his reviving spirits were\nsadly checked by the feeling of being in a land which apparently did\nnot believe in _his_ guide and vade-mecum. I felt it would be heartless\nunder such circumstances to leave him alone; yet, I should go to Mass. At\nlength, not liking to let me wander by myself in \u201csuch a dangerous city,\u201d\nhe offered to accompany me and give up his own service for the day. A\nlittle curiosity, I thought, lurked beneath the kindness; but if so, it\nwas amply rewarded.\n\nFollowing the porter\u2019s direction of \u201cfirst to the right and then to\nthe left,\u201d we soon reached the handsome church in Marlborough Street,\nopposite the National Schools. As at Westland Row, so here an immense\ncrowd was pouring out, but a far larger one pushing in; so that, although\nlong before twelve o\u2019clock, we considered ourselves fortunate in getting\nany places whatever. Unaware that this was the cathedral, and without\nany expectations regarding it in consequence, our surprise was great\nwhen a long procession moved up the centre, closed by His Eminence\nCardinal Cullen, in full pontificals, blessing us as he passed. \u201cThose\nare the canons who attend on all great occasions, and the young men are\nthe students at Clonliffe Seminary,\u201d whispered a young woman next me in\nanswer to my inquiries, while his eminence was taking his seat on the\nthrone, to Harry\u2019s infinite edification. \u201cAnd we shall have a sermon from\nFather Burke after Mass,\u201d she continued--\u201c\u2018our Prince of Preachers,\u2019 as\nthe cardinal calls him. I came here more than an hour ago, in order to\nget a place. I promise you it\u2019ll be worth hearing. Oh! there\u2019s no one\nlike him. God bless him!\u201d\n\nAnd as she said, so it happened. The instant Mass was over, not before,\nthe famous Dominican was seen ascending the pulpit. The centre of the\nchurch was filled with benches, and a standing mass in the passage\nbetween, while the aisles were so packed by the poorest classes that\na pin could not be dropped amongst them. Of that vast multitude not\none individual had stirred, and in a few seconds they hung with rapt\nattention upon every word spoken by the gifted preacher. By their\ncountenances it was easy to see how they followed all his arguments,\ndrank in every sentiment, and--who could wonder at it?--were entranced by\nhis lofty accents. Harry himself was mesmerized. The subject was charity,\nand the cause an appeal for schools under Sisters of Charity. In all his\nexperience of English preachers--and it was varied--Harry confessed that\nhe had never heard anything like this. Whether for sublime language,\nbeautiful, delicate action, pathetic tone, quotations from Scripture Old\nand New, or eloquence of appeal, he considered it unrivalled. It lasted\nan hour, but seemed not five minutes. As we passed out of the door, the\nplates were filled with piles of those one-pound notes which in Ireland\nrepresent the gold. I saw Harry\u2019s hand glide almost unconsciously into\nhis pockets, and beheld a sovereign fall noiselessly amongst the paper.\n\n\u201cOne certainly is the better of a fine sermon,\u201d he remarked, as we\nsauntered back to the hotel; \u201cand I never heard a finer. Altogether, it\nwas a remarkable sight, and the people looked mild enough. But we must\nnot trust to appearances nor be deceived too easily, you know,\u201d he added\nafter a few moments.\n\nI knew nothing of the kind, but thought the best reply would be a\nproposal to follow the multitude who were now crowding the tram-carriages\nthat start from Nelson\u2019s Pillar to all the suburbs. \u201cIn half an hour the\nstreets will be deserted until evening,\u201d said our English acquaintance,\nwhom we again met accidentally, and who recommended a walk on the pier\nat Kingstown as the least fatiguing trip, volunteering, moreover, to\naccompany us part of the way, as he was going to visit friends on that\nline at the \u201cRock,\u201d as Blackrock is usually called. It was contrary to\nHarry\u2019s customs on the \u201cSabbath\u201d; yet, after all the church-going he had\nseen that morning, he could not deny that air and exercise were most\nlegitimate. Accordingly, entering a crowded train to Westland Row, we\nsoon found ourselves retracing the route we came a few hours before.\n\nMost truly has it been said that no city has more varied or beautiful\nsuburbs than Dublin, and no population which so much enjoy them. Hitherto\nwe had seen few but the lower and middle classes; for the wealthier\nside of Dublin is south of the Liffey. Moreover, being autumn, the\n\u201cfashionables\u201d were not in town. They were either travelling on the\nContinent or scattered in the vicinity. The train, however, was full of\nsmart dresses and bright faces, \u201cwreathed in smiles\u201d and brimming over\nwith merriment. Every one, too, seemed more or less to know every one\nelse, and even our English friend was acquainted with many. \u201cThat is\nJudge Keogh,\u201d he said, as he bowed to a short, square-built man waiting\non the platform near us--\u201cKeogh, of the celebrated Galway judgment--a man\nof first-rate talent, as you may guess from his broad forehead and long\nhead; but he has ruined himself by his violence on that occasion. He is\nquite \u2018broken\u2019 since then, and his spirits gone; for he knows what his\nfellow-countrymen think of him, and he rarely appears in public except\nupon the bench. He is probably going to Bray now, where he is spending\nthe summer quietly and unnoticed. And that is Judge Monahan getting into\nthe next carriage with those ladies--he who presided at the Yelverton\ntrial; also of great legal capacity and a most kindly, tender-hearted\nman, always surrounded by his children and grandchildren. Sir Dominic\nCorrigan, the eminent physician, is in that corner yonder; his fame has\ndoubtless reached you too,\u201d he continued, addressing Harry, who had been\ncontemplating the two legal celebrities, well known to him through his\noracle, the _Times_, which, from their connection with the above-named\nevents, had noticed them on both occasions. \u201cI could point out many\nothers, if I could escort you to Kingstown\u201d; but as we halted at the\nBlackrock Station a smart carriage was awaiting and carried him off\ninland, whilst we dashed onwards, the blue waters of Dublin Bay, bounded\nby the hill of Howth, on our left, and rows of terraces and pretty villas\nalong the shore on our right.\n\nIt was a bright afternoon, with a cool, refreshing breeze, and the pier\nwas one gay mass of pedestrians. The whole of Dublin might have been\nthere, so great was the gathering; but we afterwards found that every\nother side of the capital was equally frequented. Fully an English mile\nin length, it is of substantial masonry, which on the outer side slopes\nby large blocks of granite into the sea, while a broad road skirts the\ninner line next to the harbor, terminated by a lighthouse at the extreme\npoint. Old and young were here congregated; children playing amongst the\ngranite rocks; clerks and shop-girls, mixed with whole families of the\nprofessional classes of the capital, perambulating in groups, dressed in\ntheir prettiest and brightest, looking the very pictures of enjoyment and\nfriendly intercourse. A man-of-war was anchored in the harbor, which was\nalso full of graceful yachts and alive with boating parties rowing about\nin all directions. A more healthful, innocent afternoon it were difficult\nto conceive, and even Harry admitted the general _brio_ which seemed to\npervade the air. Nor could he any longer deny the proverbial beauty of\nthe Dublin maidens; and I found him quite ready to linger on a seat and\nwatch the clear complexions and faultless features that passed in such\nconstant succession before us.\n\nAfter some time that tinge of melancholy common to strangers in a crowd\nbegan imperceptibly to steal over us, as we awoke to the recollection\nthat we alone seemed without acquaintances in that throng, and we moved\nto the station on our way Dublin-ward. Suddenly the one defect to us\nwas repaired; for on the platform we found the Bishop of ----shire\ngoing to Dalkey to dine with some old friends. Harry had made rapid\nstrides since the morning; for his face brightened as he recognized our\nfellow-passenger, and the next moment, undisguisedly admitting that he\nhad spent a charming day, he dwelt with earnestness on the splendid\nsermon of the morning.\n\n\u201cOh! yes,\u201d observed a priest who accompanied his lordship, \u201ceven a\nProtestant clergyman told me lately that he considered the only orators\nin the true sense of the word now in the United Kingdom to be Gladstone,\nBright, and Father Burke. But Father Burke has something more than mere\noratory,\u201d said he, smiling. \u201cYou ought to hear him at his own church\nin Dominic Street, where he is to preach again to-night. He is more at\nhome there than anywhere else. If you want a real treat in the matter of\npreaching, I recommend you to go there.\u201d\n\nThe remark was dropped at random; but, to my excessive surprise, Harry\ncaught fire, and, finding me willing, he hurried through his dinner in\na manner that was perfectly astounding. Then, in feverish haste, we\nmade our way to S. Saviour\u2019s. It was not yet eight o\u2019clock, but still\nthe church was so full that entrance was quite impossible. There was no\nstanding room even, said those at the door, and we were turning away, to\nHarry\u2019s deep disappointment, when a beggar-woman accosted us with \u201cWon\u2019t\nyour honor give me something for a cup of tea? Sure, I dreamt last night\nthat your honor would give me a pound of tea and her ladyship a pound of\nsugar. Ye were the very faces I saw in my drame. And may God reward ye!\u201d\n\n\u201cDreams go by contraries,\u201d replied Harry testily, so vexed at missing the\nsermon that he was in no humor to be teased.\n\n\u201cIndeed! then, that\u2019s just it,\u201d answered the woman, an arch wink lighting\nup her wizened features. \u201cIt\u2019s just your honor, then, that\u2019s to give me\nthe sugar and her ladyship the tea; so it\u2019ll be good luck for me anyhow!\nAnd may God bless you and his holy Mother watch over you!\u201d she continued,\nas Harry, unable to resist a hearty laugh at the woman\u2019s readiness, drew\nout his purse and handed her a shilling. \u201cAnd now, sure, I\u2019ll show ye how\nto get in to hear his riverence! There\u2019s no one all the world over like\nFather Burke!--the darlin\u2019. It would be a sin for you to go away without\nhearing him; so I\u2019ll bring ye round to the sacristy door, and you\u2019ll get\nin quite comfortable!\u201d\n\n\u201cYou must be very much at home here, if you can manage that,\u201d observed\nHarry, amused at the whole performance, as we meekly followed our\ntattered guide.\n\n\u201cOh! then, don\u2019t I spend half my time in the church, your honor! A poor\nbody like me can\u2019t work; but sure an\u2019 can\u2019t I pray? I hear three Masses\nevery Sunday and one every week-day. Sure, it\u2019d be a sin if I didn\u2019t. Oh!\nI don\u2019t mane it\u2019d be a sin on week-days, but it\u2019d be a mortal sin if I\ndidn\u2019t hear one on Sundays. Sure, every one knows that!\u201d \u2026\n\nThis was, however, precisely the kind of knowledge in which Harry was\nutterly deficient. Mortal sin and venial sin were to him, as to most\nEnglishmen, unknown terms, and he gaped with bewilderment as this ragged\nwoman proceeded to develop to him the difference in the clearest possible\nlanguage. There is no saying to what length the catechetical instruction\nmight have extended, if we had not reached the sacristy door, where, true\nenough, the clerk, noticing we were strangers, led us into reserved seats\nbeside the sanctuary, though even there but scant room then remained.\n\nS. Saviour\u2019s, built by the Dominicans within the last fifteen years,\nis an excellent specimen of Gothic, and, filled to overflowing with a\ndevout, earnest congregation, upon whom brilliant gaseliers now shed a\nflood of light, no sight could be more impressive. The devotions, so\nfitting in a Dominican church, commenced with the Rosary, which being\nover, the black mantle, white robe, and striking head of the favorite\npreacher rose above the pulpit ledge. His text was again on charity; and\nif anything were needed to show his powers, the versatility with which\nhe treated the same theme would have been all-sufficient. Harry was lost\nin admiration, especially as it was extempore, in contradistinction to\nthe Protestant habit of _reading_ sermons; nor could he believe, on\nlooking at his watch, that we had once more been listening for an entire\nhour. He could have remained there for many more quarters; and, to judge\nfrom their countenances, so could the whole congregation, even to the\nvery poorest. Benediction followed, and, as deeply impressed as in the\nmorning, we pursued our way back with the crowd through Dominic Street\ninto Sackville street and to our \u201chome\u201d at the Imperial Hotel.\n\nNext morning Harry West was a different man. I sought, however, for an\nexplanation in vain. No _Times_, it is true, was forthcoming; but then\nit was Monday, and in his Buckinghamshire retreat this likewise happened\non the first day of the week. The Irish papers doubtless irritated him\nby their paucity of English news--not even \u201ca bishop killed!\u201d--and their\nvolubility on topics quite unfamiliar to him was very vexatious. Still\nthis was not sufficient to account for the change which had come over\nthe spirit of his dream. At length, by a slight hint, I discovered that\nhe thought he had allowed himself to be carried away giddily by the\nexcitement of the previous day, and that he must look at matters more\nsoberly if he really were to be an impartial judge. This was the day of\nour departure for Westmeath, and he would not be influenced by any one.\nOur train did not leave until three P.M., and I urged a ramble through\nthe town; but in his present mood he viewed everything askance, and would\nnot even smile at the many witticisms and pleasant answers which I found\nit possible to draw forth from the guides, porters, and cabmen, almost\nunconsciously to themselves.\n\nAt last we started from the Broadstone station. The afternoon was cloudy,\nand, as we advanced, the country became dull and uninteresting. The line\nran beside a canal--on which there seemed but poor traffic--bordered by\nbroad fields of pasture, so thinly stocked with cattle, however, and\nso deserted-looking, though in the vicinity of Dublin, that the effect\nwas even depressing upon me. Two ladies in our compartment, certainly,\nnoticed it as something unusual, saying some mysterious words about\nBallinasloe fair and how different it would be when that event took\nplace; but they left the carriage immediately, so we had no opportunity\nof cross-questioning them. In the course of two and a half hours we\nreached our terminus at Athboy, and the porter, asking if we were the\nfriends expected by Mrs. Connor, handed me a note just brought from\nher. It explained that one of her horses being laid up and she likewise\nailing, she could neither come herself nor send her carriage; she hoped,\ntherefore, that we might be content with the \u201coutside car,\u201d a cart going\nat the same time for our luggage. Content I certainly was, for I loved\nthe national vehicle; but Harry had never tried one, and in his present\ntemper nothing pleased him. The civility of the coachman even provoked\nhim, and made him whisper something about \u201cblarney\u201d in my ear. However,\nputting our cloaks and bundles in the \u201cwell,\u201d we got up back to back, one\non each side and the coachman on the seat in the middle.\n\nAthboy, too, known to Harry from the debates as a focus of Ribbonism, was\nan unlucky starting-point, and the number of barefooted though well-made,\nhandsome children running about its streets, greatly shocked him.\n\nWhether the coachman really urged on the horse faster than on subsequent\noccasions, or the turnings were sharper, or that Harry was startled by\nthe difficulty every novice experiences in holding on, I have never\nsince been able to ascertain; but, looking around at him in less than\nfive minutes after we left, his piteous expression convulsed me with\nlaughter. From him, however, it met with no response, and he either\ncould not or would not admire the brilliant sunset sky, which in autumn\nis often so exquisite in this part of Ireland. With every step the\nroad grew prettier, thickly overshadowed by the large, spreading trees\nof the beautiful gentlemen\u2019s seats in this district; though here and\nthere a wretched roadside cabin startled Harry from his revery, and\nthe recurrence of a black cross now and again on a wall attracted his\nattention.\n\n\u201cO sir! that\u2019s only where some one was killed,\u201d answered Dan, the\ncoachman, most innocently, making Harry shudder meanwhile; though in\nthe same breath he added: \u201cThis is where Mr. W---- was killed by a fall\nfrom his horse, and the last one was put up where poor Biddy Whelan was\nthrown out of the cart when returning from market at Delvin two years\nlast Michaelmas, by the old horse shying. She died on the spot in a few\nminutes, and these crosses are painted that way on the wall to remind us\nto say a prayer for the poor souls. God be merciful to them!\u201d\n\nHarry\u2019s sidelong glances towards me, however, plainly proved that he\nmistrusted the man\u2019s words and gave them a very different meaning. By\ndegrees--as always does happen on these cars, which amongst their many\nadvantages cannot boast their adaptation for conversation--we grew\nsilent, and no one had spoken for the next ten minutes, when we turned\ndown a long, straight road, rendered still darker by the magnificent elms\nwhich stretched across it as in a high arch. Suddenly a feeble shot was\nheard not far off, and at the same moment Harry jumped off the car, put\nhis hand to his heart, and cried out: \u201cI\u2019m killed! I\u2019m killed!\u201d What\nwords can express my horror? To this day I know not how I too jumped\noff; I only know that I found myself standing beside him in an agony\nof mind. Had all my vain boasting, all my obstinacy, resulted in this?\nWas poor Harry West thus to be sacrificed to my foolhardiness? But the\nagony though sharp was--must I betray my cousin\u2019s weakness, and confess\nit?--short. I looked for blood, for fainting, for anything resembling\nmy preconceived notions of a \u201croadside murder\u201d; when, as quickly as he\nhad jumped off the car, so quickly he now seemed to recover. Ashamed of\nhimself he certainly was, when, taking away his hand, he was obliged to\nadmit \u201cit was all a mistake!\u201d After all, he had never been touched! But\nthe shot had been so unexpected, and he had at the time been brooding\nso deeply over all the stories he had read of \u201cagrarian outrages,\u201d that\nhe had positively thought he had been hit; and very natural it seemed\nto him, as no doubt he had been already recognized as a _land agent_\nby the Irish population![178] Quite impossible is it to describe my\nmingled feelings of vexation at the needless fright and of uncontrollable\namusement at my English friend\u2019s unexampled folly. Dan, the coachman,\nunderwent the same process, only in an aggravated form; for, while he\nfelt indignant at the implied insult to his countrymen, every feature in\nhis face betrayed the most uncontrollable amusement, mixed with supreme\ncontempt; for he declared that the shot was fired by his own son running\nin search of hedge-sparrows, as was his wont at that hour, and he pointed\nhim out to us in the next field, which belonged to Mrs. Connor. The gate\nof her avenue was only a few yards further on.\n\nIf I had wished to break the ice on our arrival at Mauverstown, this\nincident would effectually have accomplished it. But the party consisted\nof Mrs. Connor; her son, a youth of twenty; Katie, a daughter of\ntwenty-nine, and a handsome, black-eyed, fair-complexioned young lady,\nMiss Florence O\u2019Grady, come on a visit \u201call the way from Kerry.\u201d Poor\nHarry! At a glance I saw that he was in my power, and he gave me such\nan imploring look that my lips were sealed, in the hope of saving him\nfrom the tender mercies of the merry young ones. Not a word did I say of\nthe adventure. It was not to be expected, however, that Dan would show\nhim equal mercy; and young Connor\u2019s roguish expression next morning,\nwhen he came in late to breakfast after a visit to the stables, told me\nthat he had heard the story, and, moreover, that it had lost nothing in\nthe telling. Fortunately Harry, who was by nature the kindest and most\namiable of men, had thoroughly recovered his ordinary good temper, and\njoined in the laugh against himself so cordially that the hearts of all\nwere at once gained. Had he by chance done otherwise, his life would\nhave been made miserable; but now one and all declared that they would\nonly punish him by making him acquainted with every hedge and bush in\nthe country, and that he should not leave until he \u201cmade restitution\u201d\nby singing the praises of \u201could Ireland.\u201d Charlie Connor would help him\nin the shooting, the young ladies could take him across country--for\n\u201ccub-hunting\u201d had begun, though it was too early yet for the regular\nhunt--while Mrs. Connor mentioned a list of gentlemen\u2019s places far and\nnear which she would show him, that he might tell his English friends it\nwas not quite so barbarous a land as they evidently imagined.\n\nGood-natured though he was, Harry\u2019s face lengthened at a prospect which\nwould involve a longer stay than he had intended; but there was no time\nfor reflection, for Charlie led him off to inspect the farm, the young\nladies took him through the pleasure-grounds on his return, and in the\nafternoon we all drove to a croquet party more than eight miles off.\n\nHenceforward most faithfully did they carry out their resolutions,\nleaving no morning or afternoon unappropriated to some pleasure. Of all\ncounties in Ireland, Westmeath is remarkable for its many handsome seats,\nwell-timbered parks, and the pleasant social intercourse maintained\namongst their owners. At this season, too, every one was at home, and\ncroquet parties, _matin\u00e9es musicales_, or dinner parties were countless.\nThe shooting filled a certain place in the programme for the gentlemen,\nno doubt; still, Harry, announcing that he saw more of the country by\nfollowing the ladies, always managed to accompany us. The gardens and\nconservatories interested him, he said; and the luxuriance of the shrubs\nand evergreens always attracted his admiration, and was an invariable\nexcuse for a saunter with the young ladies, though oftener with only one\nof the party. When we had inspected those in our immediate vicinity,\na flower-show at Kells, in the bordering county of Meath (also under\nthe Peace-Preservation Act!), displayed to us in addition the \u201cbeauty,\ngallantry, and fashion\u201d of both neighborhoods. Nothing, perhaps, on\nthese occasions is more striking to a stranger than the sort of family\nlife which seems to exist in Irish counties, every one knowing the other\nfrom boyhood intimately--nay, from generation to generation. Above all is\nit remarkable how every one can tell at once by the family name what part\nof Ireland a new-comer springs from, or whether Celtic, of \u201cthe Pale,\u201d or\nCromwellian, with most unerring accuracy. The majority of land-owners in\nMeath and Westmeath belong to the latter--Cromwellian--class; but this in\nno way hinders their living on the best terms--unlike what occurs in the\n\u201cBlack North\u201d--with their Catholic neighbors, few and far between though\nthese undoubtedly are.\n\nOne of the prettiest and most interesting places in this\nneighborhood--Ballinlough Castle--belongs to the descendants of the\nvery ancient sept of O\u2019Reilly, although within the present century\nthey have taken the name of Nugent, in consequence of a large property\nhaving been left to them by one of that family. As the word implies,\nit is situated on a lough, or small lake, and the house consists of an\nold building to which several large rooms have been added within the\npresent century. The northwest front is now completely covered with\nivy, thickly intermingled with Virginia creepers, the deep-red leaves\nof which amidst the dark green of the ivy made a beautiful picture at\nthis autumnal season. Embedded in the foliage, a tablet over the door\nrecords the date, 1614--thirty-five years before the invasion of Ireland\nby Cromwell. In the dining-room are two deep recesses, still called by\nthe family Cromwell\u2019s stables; for tradition relates that in one his\nhorse, in the other his _cow_, rested during the one night he slept in\nthe castle. Early on the following day he left the place to continue his\nmarch; but before he had proceeded far, having repented that he had not\nseized so fine a property, he sent back one of his officers with an order\nto the O\u2019Reilly, the owner, to surrender at once, giving the officer\npermission--as was his wont on such occasions--to take and keep the\ncastle for himself. Not so easy was this, however, as they had imagined\nfrom their previous day\u2019s experience; for \u201cforewarned is forearmed,\u201d\nand the instant Cromwell departed the house had been barricaded. His\nmessenger, therefore, seen returning along the avenue, was communicated\nwith now only from behind closed doors. Yet the owner did not refuse in\nso many words. He merely presented the house-key hanging on the end of a\npistol, through an opening over the door, desiring the man to seize it\nif he dared! Not of a daring character, however, was the officer, and he\ntook a few moments to consider; then, throwing a _would-be_ contemptuous\nlook at the coveted house and land, he turned away, was soon out of\nsight, and no Cromwell or Cromwellian ever troubled Ballinlough again.\n\nThe castle contains, besides some most beautiful carvings from Spain,\nAubusson tapestries from France, marble chimney-pieces and paintings\nfrom Italy, collected in his travels by Sir James Nugent some fifty\nyears since; also many relics of past times--for example, one very fine\nVandyke; a full-length portrait of Lady Thurles, widow of the Duke of\nOrmond\u2019s son, and afterwards allied to the O\u2019Reillys; another, of the\nfamous Peggy O\u2019Neil, only daughter of Sir Daniel O\u2019Neil, the hero at\nthe battle of the Boyne, who is said to be the one who exclaimed when\nthe day was over: \u201cChange kings, and we will fight the battle over\nagain.\u201d He then accompanied King James to France, but, being subsequently\npardoned by William and recalled to take possession of his estates, he\ndied at Calais on his road home. King William, strange to relate, is\nstated notwithstanding, in a fit of generosity, to have given a large\ndower to this his only daughter Peggy when she soon afterwards married\nHugh O\u2019Reilly, of Ballinlough Castle, and thus became the ancestress of\nthe present family. A satin quilt embroidered by her hands still exists\namongst the castle treasures; but most interesting of all the relics is\nan old chalice dating from that period.\n\nOn our road thither we had passed by the ruins of a small chapel\ncarefully preserved, standing in a field still called Cromwell\u2019s field,\nbecause there the priest was saying Mass when a scout returned and gave\nthe alarm that the invader and his troops were speedily advancing. In\nconsternation, the congregation fled; but the priest neither could nor\nwould interrupt the Holy Sacrifice, and he had just time to finish it\nwhen the enemy\u2019s soldiers appeared in sight. Then, and then only, he\ntook flight across the fields; but his foot slipped as he was crossing\nthe nearest hedge, and the chalice which he held in his hand was bent by\nhis fall. And this same chalice, notched and bent, we now saw carefully\npreserved by the gracious _Dame-Ch\u00e2telaine_ of Ballinlough. And here it\nmay be noticed that similar relics and traditions are found all over\nIreland. Another family of our acquaintance possesses the diminutive,\nplain chalice used by a priest of their blood--his name being engraven on\nthe base--for saying Mass behind a hedge when even this was penal both\nfor priest and people. In that particular case, too, this steadfastness\nto his duty did end fatally; for this same priest was one of those killed\nat Drogheda. In the grounds of another friend a small, thickly-wooded\neminence is shown, with a grotto which served to shelter the priest when\nofficiating, whilst the congregation knelt in groups around, with scouts\noutside ready to give warning of any unfriendly approach. Elsewhere the\n\u201cpriest\u2019s hill,\u201d enclosed within the demesne walls, bears its name from\nthe sad fate of another of the sacred ministry killed there whilst caught\nin the act of saying Mass. Two hundred years and more have elapsed since\nCromwell\u2019s day, but it is no wonder that the memory of these events is\nstill fresh in the minds of a faithful posterity, or that they should\ndelight to speak of deeds which would honor any people.\n\nDeeply impressed as Harry West was by traditions which until then had\nbeen unknown to him, he was further edified by the manner in which the\nIrish poor flock from far and near on Sunday mornings to the parish\nchurch, often walking thither many a long mile in hail, rain, and snow.\nSometimes it stands at a central point, on a hill or in the middle of\na field, no village even near; but many handsome new churches are in\ncourse of erection from contributions gathered chiefly amongst the poor.\nSome of these collections are wonderful, considering the localities,\nseven and eight hundred pounds--nay, a thousand--being often the result\nof the \u201claying the foundation-stone,\u201d or \u201copening day,\u201d in a district\nsolely inhabited by farmers and peasants--especially, be it added, if the\nfavorite Father Burke be the preacher. Many and many a time, however,\nlarge sums are sent on such occasions back from America from some old\nparishioner whose fortune has increased since he left the \u201cdear ould\ncountry,\u201d but whose heart still clings to it faithfully and tenderly.\nMost remarkable, too, is the correspondence kept up by emigrants with\ntheir families, and the large presents in money \u201csent home\u201d from sons to\nfathers, brothers to sisters. It was our friend\u2019s custom--as it is at\nBallinlough Castle and many other houses--to let the poorer cottagers\ncome up to the hall-door for doles of bread, or presents of clothes at\ncertain seasons, and at all times for medicine, of which the ladies have\nknowledge just sufficient for all minor wants. One morning I was watching\nMrs. Connor\u2019s distribution, when old Biddy Nolan produced a letter which\nshe begged her honor to read for her. The postmark was Chicago, and it\ncame from her son _Mike_, who had not written since he left home; but now\nhe gave a full account of his adventures, winding up by enclosing his\nmother, who was bathed in tears of joy, a draft for twenty pounds--his\nsavings during the last few months!\n\nAnother characteristic of the County Westmeath consists in its many\npretty lakes; and as picnics, fishing and boating excursions, were\nnot forgotten in the Connor hospitalities, these--Lough Derrevarra in\nparticular--could not be omitted. The road to the lakes lay across\na bog, moor, and wild, deserted-looking tract, the exact reverse of\nthe neighborhood we were living in. Dismal enough it was returning\nsometimes in the dark without meeting a human being perhaps for miles,\nand difficult to me now and then to resist a shudder. Strange, however,\nis the world, and in nothing did it appear to me stranger than in Harry\nWest\u2019s air of tranquillity and perfect security.\n\nHe never dreamt of jumping off of the car (he would have left a pretty\nneighbor if he had!), nor seemed to remember the existence of the police,\nRibbonmen, or Peace-Preservation Act! He heard no one mention them, and\nhe had given up thinking about them.\n\nTruly, a second change had come over the spirit of his dream. And in\nproportion to his aversion to my Irish visit, so now he was the one that\nexperienced difficulty in ending it. Not days but weeks passed by; yet\nthere he lingered, to the inconceivable surprise of his friends at home.\nNot to mine, however. The cause was patent to every one on the spot; nor\ncould I wonder when, one morning, throwing off his customary reserve,\nhe asked me to welcome as a cousin his Irish _fianc\u00e9e_, the beautiful\nFlorence O\u2019Grady. Short had been the wooing, he said, but none the less\nthorough his conversion. A curious mixture of love and religion those\noutside-car excursions must certainly have been (these two never would\navail themselves of carriage or other vehicle); for not only had she\nconquered his Saxon, but even his religious prejudices so fully that he\nvoluntarily offered to place himself at once under some able teacher.\n\nChristmas was not long in coming round under these circumstances, nor\nHarry West in returning as a Catholic to claim his Kerry bride, blessing\nme for having accepted his escort, whilst I regarded the event as a\nreward for that act of self-denial on his part. Nor could he, at the\njoyous wedding breakfast, resist describing the scene of his leap from\nthe car on the evening of his arrival, giving a cheer at the same time\nfor the Peace-Preservation Act, which, to him at least--although only\nfrom the terror it had inspired--had been the primary cause of so much\nhappiness.\n\n\nTHE LEGEND OF FRIAR\u2019S ROCK.\n\nThe thing long hoped for had come to pass (though, alas! by what a\nway of grief) and I was visiting my school friend, Anne d\u2019Estaing,\nin Bretagne. It was six years since we had met, but we had kept up a\nconstant correspondence; and by letter when absent, as well as by word\nwhen together, I had become so familiar with her home and her family that\nI did not go there as a stranger.\n\nThey lived in an old castle partly fallen into picturesque decay. In\nthe eastern tower was a small chapel, which they had put into complete\nrepair, and there daily they had service, and Anne found her great\ndelight in decking the altar with flowers, and keeping everything in\nexquisite order and neatness with her own hands. They had had great\nsorrows in the six years of our separation. Only Anne and her parents\nwere left of the loving family that once numbered eleven. Two of the\nsons fell in battle, a contagious disease swept off the three youngest\nchildren in one week; Anne\u2019s favorite brother Bertrand became a\nmissionary priest, and went to China under a vow never to return; and her\ntwin sister faded away in consumption.\n\nIt had seemed to me, in my Irish home, as if such sorrows could scarcely\nbe borne; but I had never been able to come to my friend with visible,\nface-to-face, heart-to-heart consolation, for my daily duty was beside a\ncouch where my precious mother lay, suffering from an incurable disease.\nWhen her long trouble was at last over my strength and spirits were much\nshattered, and I longed to accept Anne\u2019s pressing invitation. My father\nwas very unwilling that I should go--he thought it would be so sad and\ndreary there; but Anne\u2019s letters had revealed to me such a life of peace\nand prayer and happy service that it seemed to me that Ch\u00e2teau d\u2019Estaing\nmust be a very haven of rest.\n\nAnd so I found it. From the moment that I looked on Anne\u2019s pale but\nplacid face; from the time that her mother\u2019s arms held me as those other\narms, which I had missed so sorely, used to do; from the first words\nof fatherly welcome that the old count gave me, I was at home and at\npeace. And when at sunset I went to Vespers, and the dying light shone in\nthrough the lancet windows, along the aisle, and on the richly-decorated\naltar, and Anne\u2019s voice and fingers led the soothing _Nunc Dimittis_, it\nwas as if the dews of healing fell on my bruised heart.\n\nThey made no stranger of me; they knew too well what sorrow was, and how\nits sting for them had been withdrawn. So together, in the early dawn,\nwe knelt for the holiest service, beginning the day in close intercourse\nwith Him whose \u201ccompassions fail not,\u201d and finding that they are indeed\n\u201cnew every morning.\u201d Together we kept the Hours, and did plain household\nduties, and visited in the village, dispensing medicines, reading to old\nwomen, caring for the sick. Two afternoons in the week classes came to\nthe castle for instruction; every Wednesday evening the children came\nto practise the church music--and, oh! how sweet that music was; and on\none afternoon we used to mount our shaggy ponies and ride to a distant\nhamlet, to teach the children there. Together we took care of the garden,\nwhere grew the flowers for the altar and for weddings and funerals; and\nof the trellis of rare grapes, from which came the sacramental wine.\nEvery pleasant day we went out upon the bay in Anne\u2019s boat, rowed by two\nstrong-armed Breton girls, visiting the rocky coves and inlets, startling\nthe sea-fowl from their nests, and enjoying the sea-breeze and crisp\nwaves.\n\nWhere the bay and the sea join is a headland, which commands the finest\nview for miles around; yet, much as we loved that view, we were oftenest\nto be found at the base, where we sat idly, while the boat rocked on the\nwater, which lapped with lulling sound against the rock. It was a pretty\nsight, the face of that cliff, where wild vines crept and delicate wild\nflowers bloomed, and an aromatic odor rose from the herbs that grew\nthere, and some small, weather-beaten firs found footing in the crevices.\nOn the summit were a few ruins. But the chief natural point of interest,\nand that from which the Head derived its name, was a curious rock which\nstood at its base. It was called the Friar. At first I saw little about\nit which could lay claim to such a name; but the more I watched it, the\nmore the likeness grew upon me, till it became at times quite startling.\nIt was a massive stone, some thirty feet above the water at low tide,\nlike a human figure wrapped in a monk\u2019s robe, always facing the east,\nand always like one absorbed in prayer and meditation, yet ever keeping\nguard. One day I asked Anne if there was not some legend about it, and\nshe replied that the country people had one which was very interesting,\nand partly founded on fact. Of course I begged for it, and she was ready\nto tell me.\n\nAs I write, I seem to see and hear it all again--the rocking boat; the\ntwo girls resting on their oars and talking in their broad _patois_;\nthe twittering, darting birds; the butterfly that fluttered round us;\nthe solemn rock casting its long shadow on the water, that glittered in\nthe light of a summer afternoon; Anne\u2019s pale, thin, sparkling face, and\nearnest voice. I see even the children at play upon the shore, acting out\nthe old Breton superstition of the washerwomen of the night, who wash the\nshrouds of the dead; and their quaint song mingles with Anne\u2019s story:\n\n    \u201cSi chr\u00e9tien ne vient nous sauver,\n    Jusqu\u2019au jugement faut laver;\n    Au clair de la lune, au bruit du vent,\n    Sous la neige, le linceul blanc;\u201d\n\nand the little bare feet are dancing through the water, and the little\nbrown hands wash and wring the sea-kale for the shrouds, and it all seems\nas yesterday to me. But it was years and years ago.\n\n\u201cYou know that this is a very dangerous coast,\u201d Anne said. \u201cThe tide runs\nfast here, and the rocks are jagged and dangerous. Row out a few strokes,\nTiphaine and Alix, and let Mlle. Darcy see what happens.\u201d\n\nA dozen strokes of the oars, and we were in an eddy where it took all the\nstrength of our rowers to keep back the boat; and beyond Friar\u2019s Rock the\ntide-race was like a whirlpool, one eddy fighting with another.\n\n\u201cWe would not dare go further,\u201d Anne said. \u201cNo row-boats venture there,\nand large sailing-vessels need a cautious helmsman. In a storm it is\nfrightful, and the men and the boats are not few that have gone down\nthere. But never a board or a corpse has been found afterwards. There is\na swift under-current that sweeps them out to sea. Now, Tiphaine, row\nback again.\u201d\n\nA white, modern lighthouse stands on a rock on the outer shore; its\nlantern was visible above the Head. Anne pointed to it.\n\n\u201cThat has been there only a century,\u201d she said. \u201cBefore it we had another\nand a better light, we Bretons. Where those ruins are, Joanne dear, there\nwas a small chapel once, and on the plain below the Head was a monastery.\nIt was founded hundreds of years ago, by S. Sampson some say, and others\nby the Saxon S. Dunstan himself, or, as they call him here, S. Gonstan,\nthe patron of mariners. I do not know how long it had been in existence\nat the time of the legend, but long enough to have become famous, quite\nlarge in numbers, and a blessing to the country round about. The monks\nwere the physicians of the place; they knew every herb, and distilled\npotions from them, which they administered to the sick, so that they came\nto the beds of poverty and pain with healing for soul and body both. They\ntaught the children; they settled quarrels and disputes; on Rogation days\nthey led the devout procession from field to field, marking boundary\nlines, and praying or chanting praises at every wayside cross.\n\n\u201cBut that which was their special work was the guarding of this coast.\nInstead of that staring white lighthouse, there was on the top of the\nchapel\u2019s square tower a large lantern surmounted by a cross, and all\nthrough the night the monks kept it burning, and many a ship was saved\nand many a life preserved by this means. At Vespers the lamp was lighted,\nand one monk tended it from then till Nocturns, giving his unoccupied\ntime to prayer for all at sea, both as to their bodily and spiritual\nwants, and to every one in any need or temptation that night. At Nocturns\nhe was relieved by another monk, who kept watch till Prime. Such for\nthree centuries had been the custom, and never had the light been known\nto fail.\n\n\u201cIt must have been a strange sight--that band of men in gown and cowl\nengaged in the never-omitted devotions before the altar, then departing\nsilently, leaving one alone to wrestle in prayer for the tried souls that\nknew little of the hours thus spent for them. O Joanne! what would I not\ngive to have it here again; to know that this was once more the Holy\nCape, as it used to be called; and that here no hour went by, however it\nmight be elsewhere, that prayers and praises were not being offered to\nour dear Lord, who ever intercedes for us!\u201d\n\nAnne was silent for a while, and I felt sure that she was praying. When\nshe roused herself, it was to bid the rowers pull home fast, as it was\nalmost time for Vespers.\n\n\u201cYou shall hear the rest, dear,\u201d she said, \u201cwhen we go up-stairs\nto-night.\u201d So after Compline, and after Anne and I had played and sung\nto her parents, as we were wont to do, she came into my room and lighted\nthe fire and the tall candles, and we settled ourselves for a real\nschool-girl talk. Anne showed me a sketch which her brother Bertrand had\nmade, partly from fancy, and partly from the ruins, of the monastery and\nchapel.\n\n\u201cIt looks like a place of peace and holiness, where one might be safe\nfrom sin for ever,\u201d I said; but Anne shook her head.\n\n\u201cThe old delusion,\u201d she sighed. \u201cAs if Satan would not spread sore\ntemptations just in such abodes as these. Don\u2019t you remember how often\nwe have spoken of it--the terrible strength and subtlety of spiritual\ntemptations, simply because they are less obvious than others? The legend\nof the Friar witnesses to that, whether you take the story as true or\nfalse. I am going to give myself a treat to-night, and I am sure it will\nbe one to you. Bertrand wrote out the legend after he made the sketch.\nWill you care to hear it?\u201d\n\n\u201cIndeed I would,\u201d I answered; and Anne unfolded her precious paper.\n\n\u201cIt is only a fragment,\u201d she said, \u201cbeginning abruptly where I left off\nthis afternoon; but perhaps it will show you more of what Bertrand is.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnne,\u201d I asked suddenly, \u201cdon\u2019t you miss him--more than any of the\nothers?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo--yes,\u201d she answered, then paused thoughtfully. \u201cYes,\u201d she said at\nlast, \u201cI suppose I do. Because, so long as I know he is living somewhere\non this earth, it seems possible for my feet to go to him and my eyes to\nsee his face. But, after all, none of them seem far away. We are brought\nso near in the great Communion, in prayers--_in everything_. In fact,\nJoanne--does it seem very cold-hearted?--oftenest I do not miss them at\nall; God so makes up for every loss.\u201d\n\nI was crying by this time, for my heartache was constant; and Anne came\nand kissed me, and looked distressed. \u201cI ought not to trouble you,\u201d she\nsaid. \u201cDid I? I did not mean to hurt you.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! no,\u201d I answered. \u201cOnly why should I not be as resigned as you?\u201d\n\n\u201cJoanne darling!\u201d she exclaimed, \u201cyou are _that_ much more than I am.\nCan\u2019t you see? You feel--God causes you to feel it--keenly. That is\nyour great cross; and so, when you do not murmur, but say, \u2018God\u2019s will\nbe done,\u2019 you are resigned. But that is not the cross he gives to me.\nInstead, he makes bereavement light to me by choosing to reveal his\nmercies; and I must take great care to correspond to his grace. Bertrand\nwarned me solemnly of that. And yet this is not all I mean. Perhaps you\nwill understand better when you have heard the legend.\u201d\n\nShe sat on the floor close beside me, and held my hand. I thanked God for\nher, she comforted me so. I was always hungry then for visible love; but\nby degrees, and partly through her, he taught me to be content with a\nlove that is invisible.\n\n\u201cThere was once a monk,\u201d she read, \u201cthe youngest of the brotherhood, who\nwas left to keep the watch from midnight until dawn. Through the windows\nthe moonbeams fell, mingling with the light that burned before the\ntabernacle, and with the gleam of the monk\u2019s small taper. Outside, the\nsea was smooth like glass, and the stars shone brightly, and a long line\nof glory stretched from shore to shore. Lost in supplication, the monk\nlay prostrate before the altar. His thoughts and prayers were wandering\nfar away--to the sick upon their beds of pain, to travellers on land and\nsea, to mourners sunk in loneliness or in despair, to the poor who had no\nhelper, to little children, to the dying; most of all, to the tempted,\nwherever they might be.\n\n\u201cHe was intensely earnest, and he had a loving temperament and a strong\nimagination which had found fitting curb and training in the devout\npractice of meditation. The prayers he used were no mere form to him;\nhe seemed actually to behold those for whom he interceded, actually to\nfeel their needs and sore distress. This was nothing new, but to-night\nthe power of realization came upon him as never before. He saw the dying\nin their final anguish; he suffered with the suffering, and felt keen\ntemptations to many a deed of evil, and marked Satan\u2019s messengers going\nup and down upon the earth, seeking to capture souls. Sharper than all\nelse was the conflict he underwent with doubts quite new to him--doubts\nof the use or power of his prayers. Still he prayed on, in spite of the\nkeen sense of unworthiness to pray. He would not give place for a moment\nto the suggestion that his prayers were powerless. Again and again he\nfortified himself with the Name of all-prevailing might. And then it\nseemed to him, in the dim candle-light and among the pale moonbeams, that\nthe Form upon the crucifix opened its eyes and smiled at him, and that\nfrom the lips came a voice saying, \u2018Whatsoever ye shall ask in my name,\nthat will I do.\u2019\n\n\u201cThe hour came to tend the light; he knew it. But he knew, too, that the\nsea without was calm, even like the crystal sea before the Throne, save\nwhere the wild currents that never rested were surging white with foam\nand uttering hoarse murmurs. He knew that the night was marvellously\nstill; that there was no wind, not even enough to stir the lightest leaf.\nWhat mariner could err, even though for once the light of the monks grew\ndim--nay, even if it failed? Could he leave that glorious vision, in\norder to trim a lantern of which there was no need; or cease his prayers\nfor perishing souls, in order to give needless help to bodies able to\nprotect themselves? These thoughts swept through his mind, and his choice\nwas hastily made to remain before the altar; and even as he made it the\nvision faded, yet with it, or with his decision, all temptation to doubt\nvanished too. If devils had been working upon him to cause him to cease\nfrom intercession, they left him quite free now to pray--with words, too,\nof such seeming power as he had never used before.\n\n\u201cSuddenly a sound smote upon his ear--such a sound as might well ring\non in one\u2019s brain for a lifetime, and which he was to hear above all\nearthly clamor until all earthly clamor should cease. It was the cry of\nstrong men who meet death on a sudden, utterly unprepared; the crash of\ntimbers against a rock; the groan of a ship splitting from side to side.\nHe sprang to his feet and rushed to the door. Already the great bell of\nthe monastery was tolling, and dark, cowled figures were hastening to\nthe shore. He looked up. In the cross-topped tower, for the first time\nin man\u2019s knowledge, the lamp of the monks was out. Just then the prior\nhurried by him and up the stairs, and soon, but all too late, the beacon\nblazed again.\n\n\u201cWith an awful dread upon his heart he made his way to the coast. The\nwater foamed unbroken by aught save rocks; but pallid lips told the\nstory of the vessel that had sailed thither, manned by a merry crew made\nmerrier by drink, careless of their course, depending on the steadfast\nlight, and sure, because they did not see it, that they had not neared\nthe dangerous whirlpool and hidden rocks. Only one man escaped, and,\ntrembling, told the story. He had been the only sober man on board; and\nwhen he warned the captain of their danger, he was laughed and mocked at\nfor his pains, and told that all true mariners would stake the monks\u2019\nlight against the eyes of any man on earth. It was not the Holy Cape that\nthey were nearing, but Cape Brie, they said, and every one knew it was\nsafe sailing there. With jests and oaths instead of prayers upon their\nlips, with sin-stained souls, they had gone down into that whirling tide,\nwhich had swept them off in its strong under-tow to sea. There were homes\nthat would be desolate and hearts broken; there were bodies drowned, and\nsouls launched into eternity--perhaps for ever lost--for lack of one\nlittle light, for the fault of a single half-hour. And still the stars\nshone brightly, and the long line of glory stretched from shore to shore,\nand the night was marvellously still; but upon one soul there had fallen\na darkness that might be felt--almost the darkness of despair.\n\n\u201cMonk Felix they had called him, and had been wont to say that he did not\nbelie his name, with his sweet young face and happy smile, and his clear\nvoice in the choir. He was Monk Infelix now and while time lasted.\n\n\u201cIn the monastery none saw an empty place; for the man whose life had\nbeen the only one preserved in that swift death-struggle had begged,\nawed and repentant, to be received into the number of these brethren\nvowed to God\u2019s peculiar service. But in village and in choir they missed\nhim who had gone in and out among them since his boyhood, and under their\nbreath the people asked, \u2018Where is he?\u2019 No definite answer was given,\nbut a rumor crept about, and at length prevailed, that Monk Felix had\ndespaired of pardon; that day and night the awful death-cry rang in his\nears; and day and night he besought God to punish here and spare there,\nimploring that he might also bear some of the punishment of those souls\nthat had passed away through his neglect. And a year from that night,\nand in the very hour, the last rites having been given to him as to the\ndying, the rock now called the Friar\u2019s had opened mysteriously. Around it\nstood the brotherhood, chanting the funeral psalms very solemnly; and as\nthe words, \u201cDe profundis clamavi ad Te, Domine,\u201d were intoned, one left\ntheir number, and, with steady step and a face full of awe and yet of\nthankfulness, entered the cleft, and the rock closed.\n\n\u201cYears came and went, other hands tended the lantern, till in the\nRevolution the light of the monks and the Order itself were swept away,\nand the monastery was laid in ruins. But the legend is even now held for\ntruth by simple folk, that in Friar\u2019s Rock the monk lives still, hearing\nalways the eddying flood about him, that beats in upon his memory the\nstory of his sin; and they say that with it mingles ever the cry of men\nin their last agony, and the cry is his name, thus kept continually\nbefore the Judge. There, in perpetual fast and vigil, he watches and\nprays for the coming of the Lord and the salvation of souls, and the\nrock that forms his prison has been made to take his shape by the action\nof those revengeful waves. What he knows of passing events--what added\nmisery and mystery it is that now no longer the holy bell and chant echo\nabove him--none can tell. But there, they say, whatever chance or change\nshall come to Bretagne, he must live and pray and wait till the Lord\ncomes. Then, when the mountains fall and the rocks are rent, his long\npenance shall be over, and he shall enter into peace.\u201d\n\nAnne looked at me. \u201cWas it very hard--too hard?\u201d she asked.\n\n\u201cO Anne!\u201d I cried, \u201cit is not true?\u201d\n\nShe smiled. \u201cI have more to read,\u201d she said; \u201cmore of fact, perhaps.\u201d So\nshe went on.\n\n\u201cThere is, in the archives of this domain, an account of a settlement\nsome twenty miles from here, where a horde of outlaws dwell in huts and\ncaves, their hand against every man, and every man\u2019s hand against them.\nIt was as much as one\u2019s life was worth to go among them, unless one was\nready to live as they lived, and sin as they sinned. But it is recorded\nthat in the same year in which is also recorded the loss of a Dutch\nvessel by reason of the failure of the light of the monks--an event never\nknown before, and never again till the Revolution in its great guilt\nquenched it and shattered the sacred walls--there came to these men a\nmissionary priest, seeking to save their souls. They say he was a man\nwho never smiled, yet his very presence brought comfort. Little children\nloved him; and poor, down-trodden women learned hope and patience from\nhim; and men consented to have him there, and not to slay him.\n\n\u201cYet what he underwent was fearful. He lived in a hovel so mean that the\nstorms drove through it, and the floor was soaked with rain or white with\nfrost or snow. No being in that place poorer, more hungry, more destitute\nof earthly comfort. Yet his crusts he shared with the beggar, his pallet\nof straw far oftener held the child turned out from shelter, the sick,\nthe dying, than him. There the leper found a home, and tendance, not only\nof pity but of love--hands that washed, lips that kissed, prayers that\nupbore him in the final struggle.\n\n\u201cWe read of temptations from devils which the saints have undergone;\nthere are those who presume to doubt them. This man wrestled with\ntemptations from his brother men, who seemed like very fiends, and often,\noften, the anguish of despair came upon him, and he thought he was\nalready lost, and a wild desire almost overwhelmed him to join them in\ntheir evil ways. For, by some horrible instinct, they seemed to divine\nthat pain to the body would be slight to him compared to the tortures\nwhich they could invent for his soul. They came to his ministrations, and\nmimicked him when he spoke, and set their ribald songs to sacred tunes.\nBefore his door they parodied the holiest rites. They taught the children\nto do the same things at their sports.\n\n\u201cAnd he--it is said that in the pauses of midnight or noontide rout and\nwild temptation they heard him praying for them, and praying for himself,\nlike one who had bound up his own life in the bundle of their lives, and\nbelieved that he would be lost or saved with them. It is said that at\ntimes he rushed out among them like S. Michael, and his voice was as a\ntrumpet, and he spoke of the wrath of God; and, again, he would open his\ndoor, and his face would be like death, and he would tremble sorely, as\nhe begged them, like some tortured creature, to cease from sin. What they\ndid was to him as if he did it. He was so of them that their temptations\nwere his also, till he often seemed to himself as sunk in sin as any of\nthem.\n\n\u201cYet, one by one, souls went to God from that fiend-beleaguered place;\nbabes with the cross hardly dry upon their foreheads; children taught to\nlove the God whom once they had only known to curse; some of those sick\nmade for ever well, some of those lepers made for ever clean. The priest\nset up crosses on their graves, and sacrilegious hands broke them down;\nbut no hands could stop his prayers and praises for the souls that by\nGod\u2019s blessing he had won. He tried to build a little chapel, and they\nrent it stone from stone; but none could destroy the temple of living\nstones built up to God out of that mournful spot.\n\n\u201cA Lent came when as never before he strove with and for these people.\nIt was as if an angel spoke to them. An angel? Nay, a very man like\nthemselves, as tempted as any of them, a sinner suffering from his sin;\nyet a man and a sinner who loved God, believed in God, knew that he would\ncome to judge, yet knew he was mighty to save. That Lent, Satan himself\nheld sway there; new and more vile and awful blasphemies surged through\nthe place; it was his last carnival, and it was a mad one. Men held women\nback from church if they wished to worship, but followed them there and\nelsewhere to darker deeds of sacrilege and revelry than even they had\nknown before. Yet in the gray dawn, when sleep overpowered the revellers,\na few people crept to that holy hut round which the sinners had danced\ntheir dance of defiance and death and sin, and there sought for pardon\nand blessing, and knelt before the Lord, who shunned not the poor\nearth-altar where a priest pleaded daily for souls, as for so long he had\ndone, except on the rare occasions when he would be gone for a night and\na day, they knew not where, and return with fresh vigor and courage.\n\n\u201cThursday in Holy Week he kept his watch with the Master in his agony.\nRound him the storm of evil deeds and words rose high. In the midst of\nit the rioters thought they saw a vision. It was a moonlight night, and\nmarvellously still; no wind moved the trees, and the water was like\nglass. But all the silence of earth was broken by hideous shout and\nsong, and all its brightness turned to darkness by such deeds of evil as\nChristians may not name. Before those creatures steeped in sin, wallowing\nin it, one stood suddenly, haggard, spent as beneath some great burden,\nwan as with awful suffering. The moonbeams wrapped him in unearthly\nlight, he seemed of heaven, and yet a sufferer. He did not speak; how\ncould he speak, who had pleaded with them again and again by day, and\nspent his nights in prayer, for such return as this? He lifted up his\neyes, and spread his arms. He looked to them like one upon a cross. \u2018The\nChrist! The Christ!\u2019 they murmured, awestruck. And then, \u2018Slay him!\u2019 some\none shouted frantically. There came a crash of stones, of wood, of jagged\niron, and in the midst a distinct, intense voice, \u2018O Lord Jesus, forgive\nus.\u2019 They had heard the last of the prayers that vexed them.\n\n\u201cOn Good Friday morning, as the brotherhood came from Prime, a strange\nbeing, more like a beast than a man,, approached them. \u2018Come to us,\u2019 he\nsaid in a scarcely intelligible dialect--\u2018come to the _Dol des F\u00e9es_: The\nabbot asked no questions, and made no delay. He bade one of the older\nmonks accompany him, and together they sought the place. Before they\nreached it, sounds of loud, hoarse wailing were borne to them upon the\nbreeze; and their guide, on hearing them, broke forth into groans like\nthe groans of a beast, and beat his breast, and cried, \u2018My father, my\nfather! My sin, my sin!\u2019\n\n\u201cThey saw hovels and caves, deserted; among the poorest, one still\npoorer; about it, men, women, and children wrung their hands or sobbed\nand tore their hair, or lay despairing on the ground. Entering, four bare\nwalls met their view; then a pallet, where an idiot grinned and pointed.\nFollowing his pointing finger, they saw an earth-altar where the light\nstill burned. Before it one lay at rest. Wrapped in his tattered robe;\nhis hands clasped, as though he prayed yet, above the crucifix upon his\nheart; hands, neck, and face bruised and battered and red with blood; his\nface was of one at peace. The contest was ended. He who lay there dead\nlay there a victor, by the grace of God. Around him his people, for whom\nhe gave his life, begged for the very help they had so long refused. And\nsoon, where so long he labored, sowing good seed in tears, the reapers\nwent with shouting, bringing their sheaves with them. That which had been\nthe abode of sinners has become years since the abode of saints.\n\n\u201cThanks be to God!\u201d\n\n\u201cBut it was such a little sin,\u201d I said, as Anne put the paper by.\n\n\u201cHow great a sin lost Eden?\u201d she asked gravely. \u201cBesides, we cannot tell\nwhat spiritual pride or carelessness, unknown or hidden, may have led to\nsuch a fall. But, dear, it was not anything of that sort I wanted to talk\nabout, but the mercy, and how it explains what we were speaking of.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe mercy?\u201d I repeated.\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d she said fervently. \u201cTo be punished, and yet the very punishment\nto contain the power to pray on still--to speak to God--to plead with\nhim for souls, the souls he died for on the cross. What though one were\nshut for all time in Friar\u2019s Rock, if one trusted that at the end the\nVision of God would be his for ever, and till then could and must ask him\ncontinually to have mercy on immortal souls? Or who would not live that\nliving death in _Dol des F\u00e9es_ to live it in prayer at the altar, and to\ndie a martyr\u2019s death?\n\n\u201cJoanne, my darling, what, after all, are sorrow and death and separation\nand loneliness to us who can speak to God? In him we are all brought\nnear. His blood makes each of his children dear to those who love him.\nDay by day to forget self in them, in him; day by day to let grief or\npleasure grow less and less in one absorbing prayer that his kingdom\ncome; day by day to lose one\u2019s self in him--_that_ is living, and _that_\nis loving. I cannot mourn much for my precious ones that are only absent\nfrom my sight, but safe and present with him; my tears are for souls that\nare _not_ safe, the wide world over; and I cannot miss much what I have\nnever really lost. A thousand times Friar\u2019s Rock speaks to me, and this\nis what it says:\n\n\u201c\u2018If thou, Lord, wilt mark iniquities, Lord, who shall stand it?\n\n\u201c\u2018For with thee there is merciful forgiveness; and by reason of thy law I\nhave waited--_for thee_, O Lord.\n\n\u201c\u2018From the morning watch even until night, let Israel hope in the Lord.\n\n\u201c\u2018Because with the Lord there is mercy, and with him plentiful redemption.\n\n\u201c\u2018And he shall redeem Israel from all his iniquities.\u2019\u201d\n\nIt was years ago, as I have said, that Anne d\u2019Estaing told me this\nlegend. Since then, her parents have died, the ch\u00e2teau has passed into\nother hands, she is head of a convent in Bretagne, and I--I lie here,\nthe last of my name, a hopeless invalid, with not a penny to call my\nown. Rich once, and young, and fair, and proud; sad once, and doubting\nhow to bear a lonely future, I know the meaning of Anne\u2019s story now. \u201cI\nhave waited _for thee_, O Lord! And he shall redeem Israel from all his\niniquities.\u201d\n\nWhile I wait for him, I pray. It does not grieve me that I do not hear\nfrom Anne. La M\u00e8re Ang\u00e9lique is more to me, and nearer to me, than when,\nin days long past, we spoke face to face. For I _know_ we meet in the\nsure refuge of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, and that, with saints on earth\nand saints in glory, and the souls beneath the altar, we pray together\nthe same prayer--\u201cThy kingdom come.\u201d\n\n\nDUNLUCE CASTLE.\n\n(COUNTY ANTRIM.)\n\n    Oh! of the fallen most fallen, yet of the proud\n    Proudest; sole-seated on thy tower-girt rock;\n    Breasting for ever circling ocean\u2019s shock;\n    With blind sea-caves for ever dinned and loud;\n    Now sunset-gilt; now wrapt in vapor-shroud;\n    Till distant ships--so well thy bastions mock\n    Primeval nature\u2019s work in joint and block--\n    Misdeem _her_ ramparts, round thee bent and bowed,\n    For thine, and on _her_ walls, men say, have hurled\n    The red artillery store designed for thee:--\n    Thy wars are done! Henceforth perpetually\n    Thou restest, like some judged, impassive world\n    Whose sons, their probatory period past,\n    Have left that planet, void amid the vast.\n\n    AUBREY DE VERE.\n\n\nSPACE.\n\nIII.\n\nBodies have bulk or volume, whereby they are said to occupy a certain\nplace, and to fill it with their dimensions. Hence, to complete our task,\nwe have now to consider space in relation with the volumes and places of\nbodies. To proceed orderly, we must first determine the proper definition\nof \u201cplace,\u201d and its division; then we shall examine a few questions\nconcerning the relation of each body to its place, and particularly the\ndifficult and interesting one whether bodies can be really bilocated and\nmultilocated.\n\n_Place._--Aristotle, in the fourth book of his _Physics_, defines\nthe place of a body as \u201cthe surface by which the body is immediately\nsurrounded and enveloped\u201d--\u201c_Locus est extrema superficies corporis\ncontinentis immobilis._\u201d This definition was accepted by nearly all\nthe ancients. The best of their representatives, S. Thomas, says:\n\u201c_Locus est terminus corporis continentis_\u201d--viz., The place of a body\nis the surface of the body which contains it; and the Schoolmen very\ngenerally define place to be \u201cthe concave surface of the surrounding\nbody: _Superficies concava corporis ambientis._\u201d Thus, according to the\nfollowers of Aristotle, no body can have place unless it is surrounded by\nsome other body. Immobility was also believed to be necessarily included\nin the notion of place: _Superficies immobilis._ Cardinal de Lugo says:\n\u201cthe word _place_ seems to be understood as meaning the real surface of\na surrounding body, not, however, as simply having its extension all\naround, but as immovable--that is, as attached to a determinate imaginary\nspace.\u201d[179] We do not see what can be the meaning of this last phrase.\nFor De Lugo holds that \u201creal space\u201d is the equivalent of \u201cplace,\u201d and\nthat space, as distinguished from place, is nothing real: _Non est\naliquid reale._[180] His imaginary space is, therefore, a mere nothing.\nHow are we, then, to understand that a real surface can be \u201cattached\nto a determinate imaginary space\u201d? Can a real being be attached to a\ndeterminate nothing? Are there many nothings? or nothings possessing\ndistinct determinations? We think that these questions must all be\nanswered in the negative, and that neither Cardinal de Lugo, nor any one\nelse who considers imaginary space as a mere nothing, can account for the\nimmobility thus attributed to place.\n\nThe reason why Aristotle\u2019s definition of place came to be generally\nadopted by the old Schoolmen is very plain. For, in the place occupied\nby any given body, two things can be considered, viz., the limiting\nsurface, and the dimensive quantity which extends within the limiting\nsurface. Now, as the ancients believed the matter of which bodies are\ncomposed to be endowed with continuity, it was natural that they should\nlook upon the dimensive quantity included within the limiting surface as\nan appurtenance of the matter itself, and that they should consider it,\nnot as an intrinsic constituent of the place occupied, but as a distinct\nreality through which the body could occupy a certain place. According to\nthis notion of dimensive quantity, the limiting surface was retained as\nthe sole constituent of the place occupied; and the dimensions within the\nsurface being thus excluded from the notion of place, were attached to\nthe matter of the body itself, as a special accident inhering in it.\n\nThis manner of conceiving things is still looked upon as unobjectionable\nby those philosophers who think that the old metaphysics has been carried\nto such a degree of perfection by the peripatetics as to have nothing or\nlittle to learn from the modern positive sciences. But whoever has once\nrealized the fact that the dimensions of bodies are not continuous lines\nof matter, but intervals, or relations, in space, will agree that such\ndimensions do not _inhere_ in the matter, but are extrinsic relations\nbetween material terms distinctly ubicated. What is called the volume of\na body is nothing but the resultant of a system of relations in space.\nThe matter of the body supplies nothing to its constitution except the\nextrinsic terms of the relations. The foundation of those relations is\nnot to be found in the body, but in space alone, as we have proved in our\nlast article; and the relations themselves do not _inhere_ in the terms,\nbut only _intervene_ between them. Hence the dimensive quantity of the\nvolume is intrinsically connected with the place it occupies, and must\nenter into the definition of place as its material constituent, as we are\ngoing to show.\n\nAs to the Aristotelic definition of place, we have the following\nobjections: First, a good definition always consists of two notions,\nthe one generic and determinable, as its material element, the other\ndifferential and determinant, as its formal element. Now, Aristotle\u2019s\ndefinition of place exhibits at best only the formal or determinant, and\nomits entirely the material or determinable. It is evident, in fact, that\nthe surface of any given body determines the limits and the figure of\nsomething involved in the notion of place. But what is this something?\nIt cannot be a mere nothing; for nothing does not receive limits and\nfigure, as real limits and real figure must be settled upon something\nreal. This something must therefore be either the quantity of the matter,\nor the quantity of the volume enclosed within the limiting surface. And\nas we cannot admit that the quantity of the place occupied by a body is\nthe quantity of matter contained in the body (because bodies which have\ndifferent quantities of matter can occupy equal places), we are bound\nto conclude that the quantity of the place occupied by a body is the\nquantity of the volume comprised within the limiting surface. This is the\ndeterminable or material constituent of place; for this, and this alone,\nis determined by the concave surface of the surrounding body. In the same\nmanner as a cubic body contains dimensions within its cubic form, so also\na cubic place contains dimensions under its cubic surface; hence the\nplace of a body has volume, the same volume as the body; and therefore\nit cannot be defined as a mere limiting surface.\n\nSecondly, the definition of a thing should express what every one\nunderstands the thing to be. But no one understands the word \u201cplace\u201d as\nmeaning the exterior limit of the body which occupies it, therefore the\nexterior limit of the body is not the true definition of place. The minor\nof this syllogism is manifest. For we predicate of place many things\nwhich cannot be predicated of the exterior limit of the body. We say, for\ninstance, that a place is full, half-full, or empty; that it is capable\nof so many objects, persons, etc.; and it is plain that these predicates\ncannot appertain to the exterior limit of the body, but they exclusively\nbelong to the capacity within the limiting boundary. Hence a definition\nof place which overlooks such a capacity is defective.\n\nThirdly, to equal quantities of limiting surfaces do not necessarily\ncorrespond equal quantities of place. Therefore, the limiting surface is\nnot synonymous with place, and cannot be its definition. The antecedent\nis well known. Take two cylinders having equal surfaces, but whose bases\nand altitudes are to one another in different ratios. It is evident by\ngeometry that such cylinders will have different capacities--that is,\nthere will be more occupable or occupied room in the one than in the\nother. The consequence, too, is plain; for, if the room, or place, can\nbe greater or less while the limiting surface does not become greater or\nless, it is clear that the place is not the limiting surface.\n\nFourthly, what Aristotle and his school called \u201cthe surface of the\nsurrounding body,\u201d is now admitted to be formed by an assemblage of\nunextended material points, perfectly isolated; and therefore such\na surface does not constitute a continuous material envelope, as it\nwas believed in earlier times. Now, since those isolated points have\nno dimensions, but are simply terms of the dimensions in space, the\nso-called \u201csurface\u201d owes its own dimensions to the free intervals between\nthose points, just as the dimensions also of the volume enclosed owe\ntheir existence to similar intervals between the same points. Therefore\nthe same terms which mark in space the limit of place, mark also its\nvolume; and thus the volume under the surface belongs to the place itself\nno less than does the limiting surface.\n\nFifthly, a body in vacuum would have its absolute place; and yet in\nvacuum there is no surface of surrounding bodies. Therefore an exterior\nsurrounding body is not needed to constitute place. In fact, the body\nitself determines its own place by the extreme terms of its own bodily\ndimensions. This the philosophers of the peripatetic school could not\nadmit, because they thought that the place of the body could not move\nwith the body, but ought to remain \u201cattached to a determinate imaginary\nspace.\u201d But, in so reasoning, they confounded the absolute place with\nthe relative, as will be shown hereafter. Yet they conceded that a body\nin vacuum would have its place; and, when asked to point out there\nthe surface of a surrounding body, they could not answer, except by\nabandoning the Aristotelic definition and by resorting to the centre and\nthe poles of the world, thus exchanging the absolute place (_locus_)\nfor the relative (_situs_), without reflecting that they had no right\nto admit a relative place where, according to their definition, the\nabsolute was wanting.\n\nSixthly, the true definition of place must be so general as to be\napplicable to all possible places. But the Aristotelic definition does\nnot apply to all places. Therefore such a definition is not true. The\nmajor of our argument needs no proof. The minor is proved thus: There\nare places not only within surfaces, but also within lines, and on the\nlines themselves; for, if on the surface of a body we describe a circle\nor a triangle, it is evident that a place will be marked and determined\non that surface. Its limiting boundary, however, will be, not the surface\nof a surrounding body, but simply the circumference of the circle, or the\nperimeter of the triangle.\n\nFor these reasons we maintain that place cannot properly be defined as\n\u201cthe surface of the surrounding body.\u201d As to the additional limitation,\nthat such a surface should be considered as \u201cimmovable\u201d--that is,\naffixed to a determinate space (imaginary, of course, according to the\nperipatetic theory, and therefore wholly fictitious)--we need only say\nthat even if it were possible to attach the surface of a body to a\ndeterminate space, which is not the case, yet this condition could not be\nadmitted in the definition of place, because the _absolute_ place of a\nbody is invariably the same, wherever it be, in absolute space, and does\nnot change except as compared with other places. Absolute place, just as\nabsolute ubication, has but one manner of existing in absolute space; for\nall places, considered in themselves, are extrinsic terminations of the\n_same_ infinite virtuality, and are all _equally_ in the centre, so to\nsay, of its infinite expanse, whatever be their mutual relations.\n\n_True Notion of Place._--What is, then, the true definition of place?\nWebster describes it in his _Dictionary_ as \u201ca particular portion of\nspace of indefinite extent, occupied, or intended to be occupied, by any\nperson or thing, and considered as the space where a person or thing does\nor may rest, or has rested, as distinct from space in general.\u201d This is\nin fact the meaning of the word \u201cplace\u201d in the popular language. The\nphilosophical definition of place, as gathered from this description,\nwould be: \u201cPlace is a particular portion of space.\u201d This is the very\ndefinition which all philosophers, before Aristotle, admitted, and which\nAristotle endeavored to refute, on the ground that, when a body moves\nthrough space, its place remains intrinsically the same.\n\nWe have shown in our last article that space considered in itself has no\nparts; but those who admit portion of space, consider space as a reality\ndependent on the dimensions of the bodies by which it is occupied--that\nis, they call \u201cspace\u201d those resultant relative intervals which have their\nfoundation in space itself. If we were to take the word \u201cspace\u201d in this\npopular sense, we might well say that \u201cplace is a portion of space,\u201d\nbecause any given place is but one out of the many places determined\nby the presence of bodies in the whole world. On the other hand, since\nspace, properly so called, is itself _virtually_ extended--that is,\nequivalent in its absolute simplicity to infinite extension, and since\n_virtual_ extension suggests the thought of _virtual_ parts, we might\nadmit that there are _virtual_ portions of space in this sense, that\nspace as the foundation of all local relations corresponds by its\nvirtuality to all the dimensions and intervals mensurable between all\nterms ubicated, and receives from them distinct extrinsic denominations.\nThus, space as occupied by the sun is virtually distinguished from itself\nas occupied by the moon, not because it has a distinct entity in the\nsun and another in the moon, but because it has two distinct extrinsic\nterminations. We might therefore admit that place is \u201ca virtual portion\nof space determined by material limits\u201d; and we might even omit the\nepithet \u201cvirtual\u201d if it were understood that the word \u201cspace\u201d was taken\nas synonymous with the dimensions of bodies, as is taken by those who\ndeny the reality of vacuum. But, though this manner of speaking is and\nwill always remain popular, owing to its agreement with our imagination\nand to its conciseness, which makes it preferable for our ordinary\nintercourse, we think that the place of a body, in proper philosophical\nlanguage, should be defined as \u201ca system of correlations between the\nterms which mark out the limits of the body in space\u201d; and therefore\nplace in general, whether really occupied or not, should be defined as\n\u201ca system of correlations between ubications marking out the limits of\ndimensive quantity.\u201d\n\nThis definition expresses all that we imply and that Webster includes\nin the description of place; but it changes the somewhat objectionable\nphrase \u201cportion of space\u201d into what people mean by it, viz., \u201ca system\nof correlations between distinct ubications,\u201d thereby showing that it\nis not the absolute entity of fundamental space, but only the resultant\nrelations in space, that enter into the intrinsic constitution of place.\n\nBy \u201ca system of correlations\u201d we mean the adequate result of the\ncombination of all the intervals from every single term to every other\nwithin the limits assumed, in every direction. Such a result will\ntherefore represent either a volume, or a surface, or a line, according\nas the terms considered within the given limits are differently disposed\nin space. Thus a spherical place results from the mutual relations\nintervening between all the terms of its geometric surface; and therefore\nit implies all the intervals which can be measured, and all the lines\nthat can be traced, in all directions, from any of those terms to any\nother within the given limits. In like manner, a triangular place results\nfrom the mutual relations intervening between all the terms forming\nits perimeter; and therefore it implies all the intervals and lines of\nmovement which can be traced, in all directions, from any of those terms\nto any other within the given limits.\n\nIn the definition we have given, the material or determinable element\nis the system of correlations or intervals which are mensurable within\nthe limiting terms; the formal or determinant is the disposition of\nthe limiting terms themselves--that is, the definite boundary which\ndetermines the extent of those intervals, and gives to the place a\ndefinite shape.\n\nThus it appears that, although there is no place without space,\nnevertheless the entity of space does not enter into the constitution of\nplace as an intrinsic constituent, but only as the extrinsic foundation.\nThis is what we have endeavored to express as clearly as we could in our\ndefinition of place. As, however, in our ordinary intercourse we cannot\nwell speak of place with such nice circumlocutions as are needed in\nphilosophical treatises, we do not much object to the common notion that\nplace is \u201cspace intercepted by a limiting boundary,\u201d and we ourselves\nhave no difficulty in using this expression, out of philosophy, owing\nto the loose meaning attached to the word \u201cspace\u201d in common language;\nfor all distances and intervals in space are called \u201cspaces,\u201d even\nin mechanics; and thus, when we hear of \u201cspace intercepted,\u201d we know\nthat the speakers do not refer to the absolute entity of space (which\nthey have been taught to identify with nothingness), but merely to the\nintervals resulting from the extrinsic terminations of that entity.\n\nMost of the Schoolmen (viz., all those who considered void space as\nimaginary and unreal) agreed, as we have intimated, with Aristotle, that\nthe notion of place involves nothing but the surface of a surrounding\nbody, and contended that within the limits of that surface there was\nno such chimerical thing as mere space, but only the quantity of the\nbody itself. Suarez, in his _Metaphysics_ (Disp. 51, sect. 1, n. 9),\nmentions the opinion of those who maintained that place is the space\noccupied by a body, and argues against it on the ground that no one can\nsay what kind of being such a space is. Some have affirmed, says he,\nthat such a space is a body indivisible and immaterial--which leads to\nan open contradiction--though they perhaps considered this body to be\n\u201cindivisible,\u201d not because it had no parts, but because its parts could\nnot be separated. They also called it \u201cimmaterial,\u201d on account of its\npermeability to all bodies. But this opinion, he justly adds, is against\nreason and even against faith; for, on the one hand this space should\nbe eternal, uncreated, and infinite, whilst on the other no body can be\nadmitted to have these attributes.\n\nOthers, Suarez continues, thought that the space which can be occupied by\nbodies is mere quantity extending all around without end. This opinion\nwas refuted by Aristotle, and is inadmissible, because there cannot be\nquantitative dimensions without a substance, and because the bodies\nwhich would occupy such a space have already their own dimensions, which\ncannot be compenetrated with the dimensions of space. And moreover,\nsuch a quantity would be either eternal and uncreated--which is against\nfaith--or created with all other things, and therefore created in space;\nwhich shows that space itself is not such a quantity.\n\nOthers finally opine, with greater probability, says he, that space, as\ndistinct from the bodies that fill it, is nothing real and positive, but\na mere emptiness, implying both the absence of bodies and the aptitude to\nbe filled by bodies. Of this opinion Toletus says (4 _Phys._ q. 3) that\nit is probable, and that it cannot be demonstratively refuted. Yet, adds\nSuarez, it can be shown that such a space, as distinct from bodies, is in\nfact nothing; for it is neither a substance nor an accident, nor anything\ncreated or temporal, but eternal.\n\nSuch is the substance of the reasons adduced by Suarez to prove that\nthe space occupied by bodies is nothing real. Had he, like Lessius,\nturned his thought to the extrinsic terminability of God\u2019s immensity, he\nwould have easily discovered that, to establish the reality of space,\nnone of those old hypotheses which he refuted were needed. As we have\nalready settled this point in a preceding article, we will not return\nto it. It may, however, be remarked that what Suarez says regarding the\nincompenetrability of the quantity of space with the quantity of the body\nis based entirely on the assumption that bodies have their own volume\nindependently of space--an assumption which, though plausibly maintained\nby the ancients, can by no means be reconciled with the true notion of\nthe volume of bodies as now established by physical science and accepted\nby all philosophers. As all dimensive quantity arises from relations\nin space, so it is owing to space itself that bodies have volume;\nand therefore there are not, as the ancients imagined, two volumes\ncompenetrated, the one of space, and the other of matter; but there is\none volume alone determined by the material terms related through space.\nAnd thus there is no ground left for the compenetration of two quantities.\n\nS. Thomas also, in his Commentary to the _Physics_ of Aristotle (4\n_Phys._ lect. 6), and in the opuscule, _De Natura Loci_, argues that\nthere is no space within the limiting surface of the body, for two\nreasons. The first is, that such a quantity of space would be an accident\nwithout a subject: _Sequitur quod esset aliquod accidens absque subjecto;\nquod est impossibile_. The second is, that if there is space within the\nsurface of the body, as all the parts of the body are in the volume of\nthe same, so will the places of all the parts be in the place of the\nwhole; and consequently, there will be as many places compenetrated with\none another as there can be divisions in the dimensions of the body. But\nthese dimensions admit of an infinite division. Therefore, infinite\nplaces will be compenetrated together: _Sequitur quod sint infinita loca\nsimul; quod est impossibile_.\n\nThese two reasons could not but have considerable weight in a time when\nmaterial continuity formed the base of the physical theory of quantity,\nand when space without matter was considered a chimera; but in our time\nthe case is quite different. To the first reason we answer, that the\nspace within the surface of the body will not be \u201can accident without\na subject.\u201d In fact, such a space can be understood in two manners,\nviz., either as the foundation of the intervals, or as the intervals\nthemselves; and in neither case will there be an accident without a\nsubject. For, the space which is the foundation of the intervals is no\naccident; it is the virtuality of God\u2019s immensity, as we have proved;\nand, therefore, there can be no question about its subject. Moreover,\nsuch a space is indeed within the limits of the body, but it is also\nwithout, as it is not limited by them. These limits, as compared with\nspace, are extrinsic terms; and therefore they do not belong to space,\nbut to the body alone. Lastly, although without space there can be no\nplace, yet space is neither the material nor the formal constituent of\nplace, but only the extrinsic ground of local relations, just as eternity\nis not an intrinsic constituent of time, but only the extrinsic ground\nof successive duration. Whence it is manifest that the entity of space\nis not the dimensive quantity of the body, but the eminent reason of its\ndimensions.\n\nIf, on the other hand, space is understood in the popular sense as\nmeaning the accidental intervals between the limits of the body, then it\nis evident that such intervals will not be without their proportionate\nsubject. Relations have a subject of predication, not of inhesion; for\nrelation is a thing whose entity, according to the scholastic definition,\nconsists entirely of a mere connotation; _cuius totum esse est ad aliud\nse habere_. Hence all relation is merely _ad aliud_, and cannot be _in\nalio_. Accordingly, the intervals between the terms of the body are\n_between_ them, but do not inhere in them; and they have a sufficient\nsubject--the only subject, indeed, which they require, for the very\nreason that they exist _between_ real terms, with a real foundation. Thus\nthe first reason objected is radically solved.\n\nTo the second reason we answer, that it is impossible to conceive an\ninfinite multitude of places in one total place, unless we admit the\nexistence of an infinite multitude of limiting terms--that is, unless\nwe assume that matter is mathematically continuous. But, since material\ncontinuity is now justly considered as a baseless and irrational\nhypothesis, as our readers know, the compenetration of _infinite_ places\nwith one another becomes an impossibility.\n\nYet, as all bodies contain a very great number of material terms, it\nmay be asked: Would the existence of space within the limits of place\nprove the compenetration of a _finite_ number of places? Would it prove,\nfor instance, that the places of different bodies existing in a given\nroom compenetrate the place of the room? The answer depends wholly on\nthe meaning attached to the word \u201cspace.\u201d If we take \u201cspace\u201d as the\nfoundation of the relations between the terms of a place, then different\nplaces will certainly be compenetrated, inasmuch as the entity of space\nis the same, though differently terminated, in every one of them. But,\nif we take \u201cspace\u201d as meaning the system of relative intervals between\nthe terms of a body, then the place of a room will not be compenetrated\nwith the places of the bodies it contains; because neither the intervals\nnor the terms of one place are the intervals or the terms of another, nor\nhave they anything common except the absolute entity of their extrinsic\nfoundation. Now, since place is not space properly, but only a system of\ncorrelations between ubications marking out the limits of the body in\nspace, it follows that no compenetration of one place with another is\npossible so long as the terms of the one do not coincide with the terms\nof the other.\n\nS. Thomas remarks also, in the same place, that if a recipient full of\nwater contains space, then, besides the dimensions of the water, there\nwould be in the same recipient the dimensions of space, and these latter\nwould therefore be compenetrated with the former. _Quum aqua est in vase,\npr\u00e6ter dimensiones aqu\u00e6 sunt ibi ali\u00e6 dimensiones spatii penetrantes\ndimensiones aqu\u00e6._ This would certainly be the case were it true that\nthe dimensions of the body are materially continuous, as S. Thomas with\nall his contemporaries believed. But the truth is that the dimensions of\nbodies do not consist in the extension of continuous matter, but in the\nextension of the intervals between the limits of the bodies, which is\ngreater or less according as it requires a greater or less extension of\nmovement to be measured. The volume of a body--that is, the quantity of\nthe place it occupies--is exactly the same whether it be full or empty,\nprovided the limiting terms remain the same and in the same relation\nto one another. It is not the matter, therefore, that constitutes its\ndimensions. And then there are, and can be, no distinct dimensions of\nmatter compenetrating the dimensions of place. But enough about the\nnature of place. Let us proceed to its division.\n\n_Division of Place._--Place in general may be divided into _real_ and\n_imaginary_, according as its limiting terms exist in nature or are only\nimagined by us. This division is so clear that it needs no explanation.\nIt might be asked whether there are not also _ideal_ places. We answer,\nthat strictly ideal places there are none; for the ideal is the object of\nour intellect, whilst place is the object of our senses and imagination.\nHence the so-called \u201cideal\u201d places are nothing but \u201cimaginary\u201d places.\n\nPlace, whether real or imaginary, is again divided by geometers into\n_linear_, _superficial_, and _cubic_ or solid, according to the nature of\ntheir limiting boundaries. A place limited by surfaces is the place of\na volume or geometric solid. A place limited by lines is the place of a\nsurface. A place limited by mere points is the place of a line.\n\nThe ancients, when defining place as \u201cthe surface of the surrounding\nbody,\u201d connected the notion of place with the quantity of volume, without\ntaking notice of the other two kinds just mentioned. This, too, was a\nnecessary consequence of their assumption of continuous matter. For,\nif matter is intrinsically extended in length, breadth, and depth, all\nplaces must be extended in a similar manner. But it is a known fact that\nthe word \u201cplace\u201d (_locus_) is used now, and was used in all times, in\nconnection not only with geometric volumes, but also with geometric\nsurfaces and with geometric lines; and as the geometric quantities\nhave their counterpart in the physical order, it is manifest that such\ngeometric places cannot be excluded from the division of place. Can we\nnot on any surface draw a line circumscribing a circle or any other\nclose figure? And can we not point out the \u201cplace\u201d where the circle or\nfigure is marked out? There are therefore places of which the boundaries\nare lines, not surfaces. And again, can we not fix two points on a\ngiven line, and consider the interval between them as one of the many\nplaces which can be designated along the line? The word \u201cplace\u201d in its\ngenerality applies to any kind of dimensive quantity in space. Those\nwho pretend to limit it to \u201cthe surface of a volume\u201d should tell us\nwhat other term is to be used when we have to mention the place of a\nplane figure on a wall, or of a linear length on the intersection of\ntwo surfaces. It will be said that the ancients in this case used the\nword _Ubi_. But we reply that _Ubi_ and _Locus_ were taken by them as\nsynonymous. The quantities bounded by lines, or terminated by points,\nwere therefore equivalently admitted to have their own \u201cplaces\u201d; which\nproves that the definition of place which philosophers left us in their\nbooks, did not express all that they themselves meant when using the\nword, and therefore it was not practically insisted upon. With us the\ncase is different. The _Ubi_, as defined by us, designates a single\npoint in space, and is distinct from _locus_; hence we do not admit\nthat our _ubi_ is a place; for there is no place within a point. But\nthe philosophers of the old school could not limit the real ubication\nof matter to a mere point, owing to their opinion that matter was\ncontinuous.\n\nThus we have three supreme kinds of place--the linear, with one\ndimension, length; the superficial, with two dimensions, length and\nbreadth; the cubic or solid, with three dimensions, length, breadth, and\ndepth. The true characteristic difference between these kinds of place is\ndrawn from their _formal_ constituents, viz., from their boundaries. The\ncubic place is a place terminated by surfaces. The superficial place is a\nplace terminated by lines. The linear place is a place terminated by two\npoints.\n\nThese supreme species admit of further subdivision, owing to the\ndifferent geometrical figures affected by their respective boundaries.\nThus the place of a body may be tetrahedric, hexahedric, spherical, etc.,\nand the place of a surface may be triangular, polygonal, circular, etc.\n\nPlace is also divided into _absolute_ and _relative_. It is called\nabsolute when it is considered _secundum se_--that is, as to its entity,\nor as consisting of a system of correlation within a definite limit. It\nis called relative when it is considered in connection with some other\nplace or places, as more or less distant from them, or as having with\nrespect to them this or that position or situation.\n\nThe absolute place of a body, whatever our imagination may suggest to the\ncontrary, is always the same as long as the body remains under the same\ndimensions, be it at rest or in movement. In fact, whenever we speak of a\nchange of place, we mean that the place of a body acquires a new relation\nto the place of some other body--that is, we mean the mere change of its\nrelativity. When the world was believed to be a sphere of continuous\nmatter with no real space outside of it, the absolute place of a body\ncould be considered as corresponding to one or another definite portion\nof that sphere, and therefore as changeable; but since the reality of\ninfinite space independent of matter has been established, it is manifest\nthat absolute place has no relation to the limits of the material world,\nbut only to the infinity of space, with respect to which bodies cannot\nchange their place any more than a point can change its ubication. Hence,\nwhen a body moves, its relative place, or, better, the relativity of\nits place to the places of other bodies, is changed; but its absolute\nplace remains the same. Thus the earth, in describing its orbit, takes\ndifferent positions round the sun, and, while preserving its absolute\nplace unchanged, it undergoes a continuous change of its relativity.\n\nLastly, place is also divided into _intrinsic_ and _extrinsic_. Omitting\nthe old explanations of this division, we may briefly state that the\nintrinsic place is that which is determined by the dimensions and\nboundary of the body, and therefore is coextensive with it. The extrinsic\nplace of a body is a place greater than the body which is placed in it.\nThus Rome is the extrinsic place of the Vatican Palace, and the Vatican\nPalace is the extrinsic place of the Pope; because the Vatican Palace is\nin Rome, and the Pope in the Vatican Palace.\n\n_Occupation of Place._--We have now to answer a few questions about the\noccupation of place. The first is, whether bodies fill the space they\noccupy. The second is, whether the same place can be simultaneously\noccupied by two bodies. The third is, whether the place limits and\nconserves the body it contains. The fourth is, whether the same body can\nbe miraculously in two places or more at the same time.\n\nThat bodies fill place is a very common notion, because people do not\nmake any marked distinction between filling and occupying. But to fill\nand to occupy are not synonymous. To fill a place is to leave no vacuum\nwithin it; and this is evidently impossible without continuous matter.\nAs we have proved that continuous matter does not exist, we cannot\nadmit that any part of place, however small, can be _filled_. Place,\nhowever, is _occupied_. In fact, the material elements of which bodies\nare ultimately composed, by their presence in space occupy distinct\npoints in space--that is, take possession of them, maintain themselves\nin them, and from them direct their action all around, by which they\nmanifest to us their existence, ubication, and other properties. This is\nthe meaning of _occupation_. Hence the formal reason of occupation is\nthe presence of material elements in space. Therefore, the place of a\nbody is occupied by the presence in it of discrete material points, none\nof which fill space--that is to say, the place is occupied, not filled.\nThe common expression, \u201ca place filled with matter,\u201d may, however, be\nadmitted in this sense, that when the place is occupied by a body, it\ndoes not naturally allow the intrusion of another body. This amounts to\nsaying, not that the place is really filled, but that the resistance\noffered by the body to the intrusion of another body prevents its passage\nas effectually as if there were left no occupable room. So much for the\nfirst question.\n\nThe second question may be answered thus: Since space is not filled by\nthe occupying bodies, the reason why bodies exclude one another from\ntheir respective places must be traced not to a want of room in them, but\nonly to their mutual opposite actions. These actions God can neutralize\nand overcome by an action of His own; and if this be done, nothing will\nremain that can prevent the compenetration of two bodies and of their\nrespective places. It is therefore possible, at least supernaturally, for\ntwo bodies to occupy the same place. Nevertheless, we must bear in mind\nthat, as the elements of the one body are not the elements of the other,\nso the ubications of the first set of elements are not the ubications of\nthe second, and consequently the correlations of the first set are not\nidentically the correlations of the second. Hence, if one body penetrates\ninto the place of another body, their places will be intertwined, but\ndistinct from each other.\n\nThe third question must be answered in the negative, notwithstanding the\ncontrary opinion of all the Peripatetics. The place does not limit and\nconserve the body by which it is occupied; it is the body itself that\nlimits and conserves its own place. For what is it that gives to a place\nits formal determination, and its specific and numeric distinction from\nall other places, but its extreme boundary? Now, this boundary is marked\nout by the very elements which constitute the limits of the body. It is,\ntherefore, the body itself that by its own limits defines the limits of\nits own place, and constitutes the place formally such or such. There\nis the same connection between a body and its place as between movement\nand its duration. There is no movement without time, nor time without\nmovement; but movement does not result from time, for it is time itself\nthat results from movement. Hence, the duration of the movement is\nlimited by the movement itself. In like manner, there is no body without\nplace, and no place without a body; but the body does not result from the\nplace, for it is the place itself that results from the presence of the\nbody in space. Hence, the place of the body is formally determined by\nthe body itself. Therefore, it is the body that limits and conserves its\nplace, not the place that limits and conserves the body.\n\nThis conclusion is confirmed by the manner in which our knowledge of\nplace is acquired. Our perception of the place of a body is caused, not\nby the place, but by the body, which acts upon our senses from different\npoints of its surface, and depicts in our organs the figure of its\nlimits. This figure, therefore, is the figure of the place only inasmuch\nas it is the figure of the body; or, in other terms, it is the body\nitself that by its limits determines the limits of its place.\n\nFrom this it follows that, when a body is said to be in a place\n_circumscriptively_, we ought to interpret the phrase, not in the sense\nthat the body is circumscribed by its place, as Aristotle and his\nfollowers believed, but in this sense, that the body circumscribes its\nplace by its own limits. And for the same reason, those beings which do\nnot exist _circumscriptively_ in place (and which are said to be in place\nonly _definitively_, as is the case with created spirits) are substances\nwhich do not circumscribe any place, because they have no material terms\nby which to mark dimensions in space.\n\nThe fourth and last question is a very difficult one. A great number\nof eminent authors maintain with S. Thomas that real bilocation is\nintrinsically impossible; others, on the contrary, hold, with Suarez\nand Bellarmine, that it is possible. Without pretending to decide the\nquestion, we will simply offer to our reader a few remarks on the\narguments adduced against the possibility of real bilocation.\n\nThe strongest of those arguments is, in our opinion, the following. The\nreal bilocation of a body requires the real bilocation of all its parts,\nand therefore is impossible unless each primitive element of the body can\nhave two distinct, real ubications at the same time the one natural and\nthe other supernatural. But it is impossible for a simple and primitive\nelement to have two distinct, real ubications at the same time, for two\ndistinct, real ubications presuppose two distinct, real terminations of\nthe virtuality of God\u2019s immensity, and two distinct, real terminations\nare intrinsically impossible without two distinct, real terms. It is\ntherefore evident that one point of matter cannot mark out two points in\nspace, and that real bilocation is impossible.\n\nTo evade this argument, it might be said that it is not evident, after\nall, that the same real term cannot correspond to two terminations.\nFor to duplicate the ubication of an element of matter means to cause\nthe same element, which is _here_ present to God, to be _there_ also\npresent to God. Now this requires only the correspondence of the material\npoint to two distinct virtualities of divine immensity. Is this a\ncontradiction? The correspondence to one virtuality is certainly not the\nnegation of the correspondence to another; hence it is not necessary to\nconcede that there is a contradiction between the two. It may be added\nthat the supernatural possibility of bilocation seems to be established\nby many facts we read in ecclesiastical history and the lives of saints,\nas also by the dogma of the Real Presence of Our Lord\u2019s Body in so many\ndifferent places in the Sacrament of the Eucharist. Lastly, although real\nbilocation is open to many objections on account of its supernatural\ncharacter, yet these objections can be sufficiently answered, as may be\nseen in Suarez, in part. 3, disp. 48, sec. 4.\n\nThese reasons may have a certain degree of probability; nevertheless,\nbefore admitting that a point of matter can mark two points in space\nat the same time, it is necessary to ascertain whether a single real\nterm can terminate two virtualities of God\u2019s immensity. This is a thing\nwhich can scarcely be conceived; for two distinct ubications result from\ntwo distinct terminations; and it is quite evident, as we have already\nintimated, that there cannot be two distinct terminations if there be\nnot two distinct terms. For the virtualities of divine immensity are\nnot distinct from one another in their entity, but only by extrinsic\ndenomination, inasmuch as they are distinctly terminated by distinct\nextrinsic terms. Therefore, a single extrinsic term cannot correspond to\ntwo distinct virtualities of divine immensity; whence it follows that a\nsingle material point cannot have two distinct ubications.\n\nAs to the facts of ecclesiastical history above alluded to, it might be\nanswered that their nature is not sufficiently known to base an argument\nupon them. Did any saints ever _really_ exist in two places? For aught we\nknow, they may have existed really in one place, and only phenomenically\nin another. Angels occupy no place, and have no bodies; and yet they\nappeared in place, and showed themselves in bodily forms, which need not\nhave been more than phenomenal. Disembodied souls have sometimes appeared\nwith phenomenal bodies. Why should we be bound to admit that when saints\nshowed themselves in two places, their body was not phenomenal in one and\nreal only in the other?\n\nThe fact of the Real Presence of Christ\u2019s body in the Blessed Sacrament,\nthough much insisted upon by some authors, seems to have no bearing\non the present question. For, our Lord\u2019s body in the Eucharist has no\nimmediate connection with place, but is simply denominated by the place\nof the sacramental species, as S. Thomas proves; for it is there _ad\nmodum substanti\u00e6_, as the holy doctor incessantly repeats, and not _ad\nmodum corporis locati_.[181] Hence, S. Thomas himself, notwithstanding\nthe real presence of Christ\u2019s body on our altars, denies without fear the\npossibility of real bilocation properly so called.\n\nThough not all the arguments brought against real bilocation are equally\nconclusive, some of them are very strong, and seem unanswerable. Suarez,\nwho tried to answer them, did not directly solve them, but only showed\nthat they would prove too much if they were applied to the mystery of the\nReal Presence. The inference is true; but S. Thomas and his followers\nwould answer that their arguments do not apply to the Eucharistic mystery.\n\nOne of those arguments is the following: If a man were simultaneously in\ntwo places, say, in Rome and in London, his quantity would be separated\nfrom itself; for it would be really distant from itself, and relatively\nopposed to itself. But this is impossible. For how can there be real\nopposition without two real terms?\n\nSome might answer, that a man bilocated is one term _substantially_,\nbut equivalent to two _locally_, and that it is not his substance nor\nhis quantity that is distant from itself, but only one of his locations\nas compared with the other. But we do not think that this answer is\nsatisfactory. For, although distance requires only two _local_ terms, we\ndo not see how there can be _local_ terms without two distinct beings.\nOne and the same being cannot be actually in two places without having\ntwo contrary modes: and this is impossible; for two contraries cannot\ncoexist in the same subject, as S. Thomas observes.[182]\n\nAnother of those arguments is based on the nature of quantity. One and\nthe same quantity cannot occupy two distinct places. For quantity is the\nformal cause of the occupation of place, and no formal cause can have two\nadequate formal effects. Hence, as one body has but one quantity, so it\ncan occupy but one place.\n\nThis argument cannot be evaded by saying that the quantity which is the\nformal cause of occupation is not the quantity of the mass, but the\nquantity of the volume. In fact, the duplication of the volume would\nduplicate the place; but the volume cannot be duplicated unless each\nmaterial term at the surface of the body can acquire two ubications.\nNow, this is impossible, as a single term cannot correspond to two\nextrinsic terminations of divine immensity, as already remarked. Hence,\nthe quantity of volume cannot be duplicated in distinct places without\nduplicating also the mass of the body--that is, there cannot be two\nplaces without two bodies.\n\nA third argument is as follows: If a body were bilocated, it would be\ncircumscribed and not circumscribed. Circumscribed, as is admitted,\nbecause its dimensions would coextend with its place; not circumscribed,\nbecause it would also exist entirely outside of its place.\n\nThis argument, in our opinion, is not valid; because it is not the place\nthat circumscribes the body, but the body that circumscribes its own\nplace. Hence, if a body were bilocated, it would circumscribe two places,\nand would be within both alike. It will be said that this, too, is\nimpossible. We incline very strongly to the same opinion, but not on the\nstrength of the present argument.\n\nA fourth argument is, that if a thing can be bilocated, there is no\nreason why it could not be trilocated and multilocated. But, if so, then\none man could be so replicated as to form by himself alone two battalions\nfighting together; and consequently such a man might in one battalion be\nvictorious, and in the other cut to pieces; in one place suffer intense\ncold, and in another excessive heat; in one pray, and in another swear.\nThe absurdity of these conclusions shows the absurdity of the assumption\nfrom which they follow.\n\nThis argument is by no means formidable. Bilocation and multilocation\nare a duplication and multiplication of the place, not of the substance.\nNow, the principle of operation in man is his substance, whilst his place\nis only a condition of the existence and of the movements of his body.\nAccordingly, those passions of heat and cold, and such like, which depend\non local movement, can be multiplied and varied with the multiplication\nof the places, but the actions which proceed from the intrinsic\nfaculties of man can not be thus varied and multiplied. Hence, from the\nmultilocation of a man, it would not follow that he, as existing in one\nplace, could slay himself as existing in another place, nor that he could\npray in one and swear in another. After all, bilocation and multilocation\nwould, by the hypothesis, be the effect of supernatural intervention,\nand, as such, they would be governed by divine wisdom. Hence it is\nunreasonable to assume the possibility of such ludicrous contingencies\nas are mentioned in the argument; for God does not lend his supernatural\nassistance to foster what is incongruous or absurd.\n\nTo conclude. It seems to us that those among the preceding arguments\nwhich have a decided weight against the possibility of real bilocation,\nare all radically contained in this, that one and the same element of\nmatter cannot have at the same time two modes of being, of which the\none entails the exclusion of the other. Now, the mode of being by which\nan element is constituted in a point, _A_, excludes the mode of being\nby which it would be constituted in another point, _B_. For, since the\nubication in _A_ is distant from the ubication in _B_, the two ubications\nare not only distinct, but relatively opposed, as S. Thomas has remarked:\n_Distinguuntur ad invicem secundum aliquam loci contrarietatem_; and\ntherefore they cannot belong both together to the same subject. On the\nother hand, we have also proved that a single element cannot terminate\ntwo distinct virtualities of God\u2019s immensity, because no distinct\nvirtualities can be conceived except with reference to distinct extrinsic\nterms. Hence, while the element in question has its ubication in _A_, it\nis utterly incapable of any other ubication. To admit that one and the\nsame material point can terminate two virtualities of divine immensity,\nseems to us as absurd as to admit that one and the same created being is\nthe term of two distinct creations. For this reason we think, with S.\nThomas, that bilocation, properly so called, is an impossibility.\n\n\nAN EPISODE.\n\nThe caption \u201cepisode\u201d is advisedly adopted, inasmuch as we are going to\ntranscribe only one short chapter from a large manuscript of several\nhundred pages containing \u201cThe Life of Sixtus V.\u201d\n\nHowever, it is to be regretted that such a life is not published. For it\nwould reveal unto us the _man_, whereas Ranke and H\u00fcbner describe only\nthe _prince_.\n\nSixtus V. fell into that mistake, which has proved disastrous to many\npopes, and has afforded a weapon, however silly and easily broken, yet\na real weapon to the enemies of the Papacy--nepotism. The charge is\nexaggerated of course: in fact, what our enemies assert to have been the\nuniversal failing of all the popes, the true historian avers to have been\nthe mistake of a few, whereas the examples of heroic detachment from\nkindred given by the vast majority of the Pontiffs are wonderful. S.\nGregory the Great says, \u201cbetter there should be a scandal than the truth\nwere suppressed\u201d; and surely the church needs no better defence than the\ntruth. For the present purpose, suffice it to quote the Protestant Ranke,\nwho, after a thorough investigation of the subject, gave it as his honest\nopinion that only _three_ or _four_ popes are really liable to the charge\nof nepotism. It is pleasant to be able to quote such an opinion of an\neminent non-Catholic writer against scores of wilful men, who sharpen\ntheir weapons and discharge their shafts, not after honest study and\ninvestigation, but merely on the promptings of blind hatred.\n\nPope Sixtus V. was the second son of Piergentile Peretti of Montalto.\n\nHis eldest brother was Prospero, who married Girolama of Tullio Mignucci,\nand died A.D. 1560, without issue.\n\nCamilla was his only sister. She was led to the altar by Gianbattista\nMignucci, brother to Girolama. To an exquisite correctness of judgment,\nand great generosity of heart, she joined a quick apprehension of the\nimportance of circumstances by which she might find herself suddenly\nencompassed. The _Anonimo_ of the _Capitoline Memoirs_ says that when\nCamilla was unexpectedly raised from the obscure life of a _contadino\u2019s_\nwife to the rank of a Roman lady, she was not stunned, but felt perfectly\nat ease, whilst her society was coveted by the choicest circles of the\nnobility. Cardinal d\u2019Ossat, in his _Letters_, informs us that she was\ngreatly esteemed and dearly beloved by Louise de Lorraine, queen-dowager\nof the gifted but perverse Henry III. of France. The works of her\nmunificence and public charity in her native Grottamare are many, and\nenduring to our day.\n\nFather Felix Peretti had already mounted all the rounds but one of\necclesiastical preferment--the cardinal\u2019s hat was almost within his\nreach. He was a bishop, and occupied some of the highest offices in the\n_Curia Romana_. He thought the time had come to satisfy a long-felt\ndesire--the ennoblement of his family. Hence, in 1562, he called his\nsister to Rome, having obtained a sovereign\u2019s rescript by which his\nbrother was allowed to change his name, Mignucci, into that of Peretti.\nOn the 17th day of May, 1570, Pius V. raised Mgr. Felix Peretti to the\ndignity of cardinal. Thenceforward he is more generally known in history\nas Cardinal Montalto, from the place of his nativity.\n\nThus, even previous to his brother-in-law\u2019s elevation, Gianbattista\nMignucci enters Rome transformed into Peretti, to join his wife and their\ntwo children Francis and Mary.\n\n_O fallaces cogitationes nostras!_ The friar hopes his name, made\nillustrious by himself, will not become extinct; but he is mistaken;\nif recorded on the tablets of time it will not surely be by a worldly\nalliance, which is doomed to a dishonored extinction. The church will\ninscribe the Peretti name and fame on the adamantine records of her\nimmortality.\n\nVerily, if we understand aright the professions of recluses, the\nFranciscan friar should have done away with his relations for ever; at\nleast, so far as not to allow himself to be blinded by human affection.\nHe should have remembered that he was under no obligation to them, that\nfrom his earliest boyhood he had been taken in hand by churchmen, and\nthat only through scientific and moral resources acquired in a friary\nhe had received strength to climb up so high in the ecclesiastical\nhierarchy. The world is keen in its observations, and Peretti did not\nescape its strictures, seldom erring when established on principles and\nfacts universally admitted, and moreover sanctioned by divine teaching.\nAnd has not _the_ example been set for those who profess the perfection\nof evangelical counsels of how they should behave towards their kindred?\n\nBe that as it may, Fra Felice paid dearly for his ambition.\n\nHis niece, Donna Maria Peretti, was soon married, and a dowry granted\nher from the revenues of her uncle of three thousand crowns a year.\nMary\u2019s children, two boys and two girls, became allied to some of the\nmost distinguished families of Italy, and the plebeian blood of Peretti\nmingled with that of the simon-pure aristocracy. Out of this issue arose\neminent men who did honor to cross and sword. But enough of this branch\nof the friar\u2019s adoption.\n\nAbout the time of Mgr. Felix Peretti\u2019s elevation to the cardinalate, his\nnephew Francesco was wedded to Donna Vittoria Accoramboni of Gubbio, in\nUmbria, praised by the _Gentiluomo_, Aquitano (vol. ii., b. vi.), as \u201ca\nwoman of high mind, of great beauty of soul and body.\u201d Her family still\nexists in Italy, and a lineal descendant occupies important posts in the\nhousehold of Pius IX.. Her suitors had been many and of princely caste;\namong the rest Paolo Giordano Orsini, Duke of Bracciano, formerly married\nto the sister of the Grand Duke of Tuscany, Francesco Medici. Paolo,\n_homo ruptus disruptusque_, stands charged in history with the murder of\nthis his former wife, the accomplished Isabella, daughter of Cosmo, whom\nhe strangled on the 16th of July, 1576. But Vittoria\u2019s father cut short\nall suits, and gave her in holy wedlock to Francesco Peretti, nephew of\nthe mysterious cardinal, whose future elevation to the papal throne was\nheld _in petto_ by every discerning Roman.\n\nHowever, Vittoria\u2019s mother gave her consent reluctantly; for wearing the\nducal coronet seemed preferable to being the prospective niece of the\nsovereign--_uccello in tasca \u00e8 meglio che due in frasca_[183] the shrewd\nItalian lady thought. But whereas Lady Accoramboni forgot that the Orsini\nfamily owed their power to Nicholas III. (A.D. 1277-80), an Orsini by\nbirth, who, by the lever of nepotism, had raised an already celebrated\nfamily to the highest standing of European nobility, her husband, on the\nother hand, said to her: \u201cCan\u2019t you see? Vittoria will be the head of a\nnew, powerful family!\u201d Still Lady Accoramboni did not see it, and the\nloss of the coronet rankled for ever in her breast.\n\nIndeed, in these days when tales of fiction are the almost exclusive\nreading of the youth of both sexes, an accomplished writer might\nweave out of the following events a story of stirring interest; not\nsensational, indeed, but freighted with most salutary lessons.\n\nVittoria Accoramboni Peretti had three brothers:\n\nOttavio was, through the recommendation of Cardinal Peretti, nominated by\nthe Duke of Urbino for, and by Gregory XIII. appointed to, the bishopric\nof Fossombrone. He adorned his see with all the virtues becoming a\nscholar, a gentleman, a patriot, and a true apostolic prelate.\n\nGiulio became one of the private household of Cardinal Alessandro\nSforza, by whom he was held in great favor, and employed as confidential\nsecretary.\n\nMarcello was outlawed for his misdeeds, and a price set on his head. But\nCardinal Peretti obtained his pardon; yet leave to return to Rome was not\ngranted to him.\n\n\u201cA wise woman buildeth her house: but the foolish will pull down with\nher hands that also which is built,\u201d saith the Wise Man. The house of\nFrancesco and Maria Peretti _was_ built, and it was the home of comfort\nand honor, enclosing within its walls the choicest gifts of the world;\nand of its brightest ornament, the Lady Vittoria Peretti, it might be\nsaid she was the cynosure of Roman society. The evening _conversazioni_\ndrew the _\u00e9lite_ of Rome, graced as they were by the presence of the\ncardinal, who, with his proverbial regularity, would attend them for a\ndefinite length of time. His wise sayings, dignity of deportment, and\nagreeableness of manners, mingled with an independence of character that\nmade him almost redoubtable at the Roman court, enhanced the charm of\nthe family circle. Young prelates prized highly the privilege of being\nadmitted amongst the visitors. The spacious halls of the Villa Negroni\nwere adorned with paintings and statuary, and the noblest specimens of\nthe art of painting; the gardens were reckoned the most tasteful of those\nof any princely family in Rome. While he was scrupulous in his attention\nto consistorial meetings, and the affairs of the _Curia Romana_ over\nwhich he was appointed, Cardinal Peretti never gave his time to what he\nwould consider frivolous etiquette. His library, his gardens, afforded\nhim all the relaxation he needed; his life was most exemplary and devout.\nHappy, indeed, was the home built by such hands; but a foolish woman\npulled it down!\n\nAt the depth of night, not many months after Vittoria had been wedded,\na note is hurriedly carried by a chambermaid to Francesco; it had been\nleft at the entry by a well-known friend, and the messenger had left\nimmediately. It was written by Marcello, who at times entered the city\nunder protection of night, or of some leaders of political factions, with\nwhich the city swarmed--barons and princes who, under the mild government\nof Gregory XIII., had everything their own way.\n\nThe letter summoned Francesco to repair at once to the Esquiline hill,\nthere to meet some gentlemen on a business the nature whereof could not\nbe entrusted to paper, and admitted of no delay. Hurriedly does the\ndevoted man dress himself, and, his sword under his arm, forces his way\nthrough the servants who beseech him to halt, disentangles himself from\nhis wife and mother, who, prostrated before him, cling to his knees,\nbegging of him not to trust himself to the outlawed Marcello. In vain!\nPreceded by a servant with torch in hand, no sooner had he reached the\nbrow of the Quirinal than the contents of three arquebuses were lodged in\nhis breast; whereupon four men fell upon him, and finished him with their\nstilettos. \u201cThus,\u201d says an old historian, \u201cfell a youth whose only crime\nwas to be the husband of a most beautiful woman.\u201d Another chronicler\ncalls Francesco _Cale e di gran correttezza di costumi_.\n\nThe commotion in the family when the ensanguined and ghastly corpse was\ncarried home can easily be imagined. The lamentations of the women and\nthe uproar of the servants awoke the cardinal, who slept in a distant\napartment--his palace, the Villa Negrone, as mentioned above, and by that\nname known to modern tourists, extending from the Esquiline (Santa Maria\nMaggiore) to the Piazza de\u2019 Termini. It is said that on hearing the\ndreadful news Montalto fell upon his knees, and prayed God to grant rest\nto the soul of his nephew, and to himself fortitude, such as became his\ncharacter and dignity. His presence not only brought, but forced calm on\nthe distracted household. On the next day the Holy Father was to hold a\nConsistory, and, contrary to the expectation of all, Cardinal Montalto\nwas at his post, as usual, among the first. His colleagues offer their\ncondolence, which he accepts with a resignation almost akin to stoicism.\nBut when he approaches the throne to give his opinion on the matters\ndebated, and the pope, with moist eyes and greatly moved, expresses a\nheartfelt sympathy in the cardinal\u2019s affliction, pledging his word that\nthe perpetrators shall be visited with summary and condign punishment,\nMontalto thanks the Pontiff for his kind sympathy, protests that he has\nalready forgiven the murderers, and begs that all proceedings may be\nstayed, lest the innocent should be punished for the guilty. Having thus\ndisposed of the matter, he proceeds with his wonted calmness to discuss\nthat which was before the Consistory.\n\nReferring to this impassiveness of Peretti, the pope remarked, with an\nominous shake of the head, to his nephew, Cardinal San Sisto, \u201cIndeed,\nMontalto is a great friar!\u201d And those of Peretti\u2019s own times, and\nsubsequent historians, seem to have had an insight of his mind and\nmotives. In the sober language of Ranke, \u201cHis character does not appear\nto have been so guileless as it is occasionally represented. As early\nas 1574 he is described as learned and prudent, but also crafty and\nmalignant. He was doubtless gifted with remarkable self-control. When his\nnephew was assassinated, he was himself the person who requested the\npope to discontinue the investigation. This quality, which was admired by\nall, very probably contributed to his election\u201d to the papal throne.\n\nThose among our readers who have resided among Italians, and especially\nin Rome, need not be told of the tremendous excitement which seized\nthe holy city as it awoke on that dreadful morning. Cardinal Peretti\nof Montalto became the observed of all observers; nobles and prelates\nthronged the avenues to his villa to assure him of their loyalty and\ncondolence; very few, indeed, as the world goes, honestly and sincerely;\nmany simply from custom; almost all, however, moved by a motive of\ncuriosity to see how the \u201cPicenian packhorse\u201d bore the great calamity,\nand, above all, what feelings he would betray towards Paolo Giordano\nOrsini, to whom the finger of public opinion already pointed as the\nmurderer of Vittoria\u2019s husband. By some man\u0153uvre of the \u201cgossiping\ncommittee\u201d the day and the hour on which even Giordano would present\nhimself at the palace became known, and the throng at the drawing-rooms\nwas exceedingly great. When the murderer stood face to face before his\nvictim\u2019s best friend and only avenger, not the least twitch in the\ncardinal\u2019s nerves, not a falter in the voice, nor the slightest change of\ncolor betrayed the conflict in his soul. He received Orsini\u2019s treacherous\nsympathy as he had received the truest expressions of condolence.\nPeretti stood there, the prince, not the avenger. Even the accursed\nsoul of Giordano was lost in wonderment; he became embarrassed and\ndisconcerted, and he was reported to have exclaimed as he re-entered his\ncarriage--\u201cMontalto is a great friar; no mistake about it!\u201d (Montalto \u00e8\nun gran frate; chi ne dubita!)\n\nVittoria had no children. Hence, after the funeral, the cardinal sent\nher home to her mother, bestowing upon her costly gifts, and giving her\nthe jewels, plate, and precious articles of furniture and apparel, which\nhad been the bridal presents of husband and friends. _Ora ti credo_,\nsaid Pasquino to Marforio, in allusion to Montalto\u2019s forbearance and\ndisinterested magnanimity.\n\nThe sequel to this tragedy is so thrilling in interest, so characteristic\nof the times about which we write, and must have taxed the feelings of\nthe future pope so much, that a succinct account thereof cannot but prove\ninteresting to our readers.\n\nGregory XIII. urged with energy and perseverance the necessary inquests\nto ferret out the murderers of Francesco Peretti. But wily old Giordano\nOrsini (he was on the other side of fifty) knew how to baffle the\nrequisitions of justice, by no means a difficult task in those lawless\ntimes. He sent the waiting-maid to Bracciano, to be protected by the\nfeudal immunities of the Orsini castle. Vittoria and her mother were\nsheltered in Rome in the Orsini palace. The feudal power was still\ngreat in those days, and often a franchise was secured to the premises\nof Roman nobles by foreign princes, to the infinite annoyance of the\nlocal sovereign, and often clogging the workings of justice. One\nCesare Pallentieri, an outlawed ruffian, was then bribed to write to\nthe governor of Rome avowing himself the plotter of Peretti\u2019s death\nto revenge himself for personal injuries received at that gentleman\u2019s\nhands. Nobody believed the story; and the verdict of public opinion was\nsanctioned when, in February, 1582, Mancino, the bearer of the fatal\nnote, declared, under oath and without compulsion, that the whole plot\nhad been woven by Vittoria\u2019s mother; that the servant-maid had been made\nprivy to it; and moreover revealed the names of two of the emissaries,\nit being well known in whose pay they bore arms, although he stated no\nemployer\u2019s name.\n\nAt this stage of the proceedings Cardinal Montalto, with persevering\nendeavors with the pope and the interposition of friends, stayed all\nprosecutions, and on December 13, 1583, obtained from the sovereign\npardon for Mancino, who was, however, banished from Rome, and\nrelegated--_interned_, in modern parlance--to Fermo, his native city,\nbeing forbidden to quit it under penalty of death. But it was too evident\nthat there was a trifling with justice, and in the uncertainties between\nwhich public opinion seemed to fluctuate, wiser counsels attempted to\nvindicate the necessity of a just retribution. Hence, at the instance of\nseveral cardinals and of the Spanish ambassador, Gregory was prevailed\nupon to confine Vittoria to the castle Sant\u2019 Angelo, and by a special\ndecree forbade her marrying Paolo Giordano Orsini, unless by a reserved\ndispensation from himself or his successor, under attaintment of felony.\nHowever, after two years of imprisonment she was declared innocent of\nany share in or knowledge of the plot, and discharged. This happened on\nthe very day of Gregory\u2019s death, April 10, 1585. Still Orsini could not\nwed her, because of the forbidding clause in the pope\u2019s order. But some\naccommodating casuist came to the rescue, and averred that the defunct\npope\u2019s brief was binding no more. Whereupon the duke hastened, by\nspecial couriers on post-horses, to notify the good Bishop of Fossombrone\nof his intended alliance with Vittoria, and to solicit his gracious\nconsent. Mgr. Ottavio refused his assent decidedly, nor would he allow\nhimself to change his refusal, although Orsini despatched messenger after\nmessenger, anxious, as he was, to accomplish his purpose ere a new pope\nwas elected. But the new pope was elected far sooner than the duke or\nany one else expected, and in defiance of the express command of the\ndefunct pontiff, and in shameless disregard of the feelings of the new\nsovereign, the very morning on which Cardinal Peretti, Vittoria\u2019s uncle,\nwas proclaimed, she was wedded to Paolo Orsini, Duke of Bracciano. Rome\nwas bewildered at the announcement; and although no one could guess what\nthe consequences of the rash act might be, or how the pope would show his\ndispleasure, because Fra Felice never made any one the confidant of his\nthoughts, yet the general impression was that sooner or later the duke\nwould be made to pay dearly for his daring and reckless disregard of the\ncommonest principles of decency.\n\nRome was on the alert. Duke Orsini is admitted to offer his obeisance\nto the Pontiff Sixtus V. amid the solemn assembly of cardinals, foreign\nenvoys, and Roman princes and senators; the expression of his liege\nwords, his prostration at the sovereign\u2019s throne, and his courtly homage\nmeet with the simple response of a look from Sixtus. That look gave\nrise to the most clashing interpretations in the observing minds of the\nbeholders; it was a look of benignity, weighty with authority, crushing\nwith power, such as to subdue at once the haughty and defiant princely\nruffian. From that moment Paolo Orsini never raised his head; his day was\ngone. Within a few days a sovereign decree, worded as only Sixtus V. knew\nhow to pen them, in terms at which no one would dare to cavil, Orsini was\nforbidden to shelter outlaws. The duke solicited an audience; of what\noccurred at that meeting no one could ever surmise; but Orsini found no\nmore charm in what he could heretofore call _his_ Rome. Accordingly,\nwithin two months after the inauguration of Sixtus\u2019 pontificate, he\nleft the papal city. In sooth, he was an exile, voluntary, as if by\ncourtesy. Great was the bitterness galling Vittoria\u2019s heart, and she was\npitied by all--the victim of a mother\u2019s rash ambition, she had to flee\nthat Rome where she could still have reigned the queen of society for\nher beauty, her great gifts, and close relationship to the sovereign.\nDonna Camilla reigned in her stead. Nor was this all. The handsome,\nyouthful, accomplished niece of Sixtus was then the slavish, unhappy wife\nof a cumbrous quinquagenarian prince, covered with loathsome blotches\nfrom the sole of his feet to the crown of his head, the penalty of his\ndissipations; one of his legs so ulcered with cancer that it had swollen\nto the size of a man\u2019s waist, and had to be kept bandaged (the chronicler\nsays), with slices of _some other animal\u2019s meat_, that the acrid humor\nwould not eat into _his own_ live flesh--a fretful old debauchee,\noverbearing, universally loathed for his lecherous habits, hated for his\ncruelties, and made intractable by a conscience gnawed by despair.\n\nPoor Vittoria! On their way to Sal\u00f2, near the lake of Garda in Lombardy,\nher husband, consumed by ulcers and tortures of soul, died suddenly\nwhilst being bled in his arm!\n\nForlorn Vittoria! the first paroxysm of grief being over, raised a\npistol to her head, but it was happily snatched from her in time by her\nbrother Giulio, and she was spared a violent, unprepared, and cowardly\ndeath! Thus left alone, unprotected in her beauty and youth, she was at\nthe mercy of Ludovico Orsini, her husband\u2019s cousin, who despised her\non account of the great disparity of their birth. Her late husband had\nindeed bequeathed to her one hundred thousand crowns, besides silver\nplate, horses, carriages, and jewelry without stint. All this Ludovico\ncoveted, and stepped forward under pretence of protecting the rights of\nFlaminio Orsini, Giordano\u2019s son by his former wife; but unable to break\nthe will, he summoned one Liverotto Paolucci of Camerino to come to\nPadua--whither Vittoria had repaired immediately, and, aided by such as\nhe might chose, to murder Vittoria and her brother! The bloody ruffian\nanswered the summons, and entering the princess\u2019 apartment through a\nwindow, in the depth of the night, his men fell at first upon Giulio,\nand into his breast discharged the contents of three muskets. The victim\ncrawled to his sister\u2019s room and crouched under her bed. There he was\nfinished with _seventy-three_ thrusts of white arms, encouraged all the\ntime by Vittoria, anxiously repeating--\u201cForgive, Giulio; beg God\u2019s mercy,\nand willingly accept death for his sake.\u201d\n\nIt is recorded in the life of her sainted brother, the Bishop of\nFossombrone, that, upon the death of the duke, he without delay wrote\nto his sister, exhorting her to amend her life, and devote herself to\nworks of atonement and piety; for, said he, \u201cyour days will not be many.\u201d\nAnd we have it from authenticated records of those times that she did\ntruly repent of her worldliness, and, having placed herself under the\nprotection of the Republic of Venice, retired to Padua, where she lived\nin great retirement, dividing her time between practices of devotion in\nthe church, deeds of charity, and protracted orisons at home. She also\nbegged of the Pope leave to repair to Rome, the asylum of the wretched,\nand spend the remainder of her life in a convent, for which purpose her\ngenerous uncle had signed a remittance of five hundred gold crowns on\nthe very day he received the sad account of her death. Her brother, the\nbishop, had so strong a presentiment, some say a revelation from above,\nof the impending catastrophe, that on the 22d of December he ordered\nspecial prayers to be offered by the clergy of his diocese in her behalf.\n\nAnd she _did_ fall a victim to Ludovico\u2019s dagger on the 22d of that month!\n\nAfter Giulio had breathed his last, bathed in his own blood, Count\nPaganello, one of Liverotto\u2019s band, took hold of the devoted woman by\nboth arms, and holding her in the kneeling posture in which she had been\nfound at her prayers, bade one of his bravoes to tear open her dress on\nthe right side, whereupon she indignantly protested that she should be\nallowed to die in her dress, as it became an honest woman and the _wife\nof Giordano Orsini_! The brute plunged a stiletto into her bosom, and\nkept trepanning towards the left side in search of the heart. She offered\nno resistance, but during the horrid butchery of her form she ceased not\nrepeating, \u201cI pardon you, even as I beg of God to forgive me.\u2026 Jesus!\u2026\nJesus!\u2026 Mercy and forgiveness!\u201d And with these words of forgiveness dying\non her lips she fell lifeless on the floor.\n\nThus ended, by a cruel death, yet heroically met, one of the most\nremarkable women of her time--a woman renowned for her admirable beauty,\ntalents, and misguided ambition. Having been the pet of European society,\nshe died almost an outlaw; the niece of Pope Sixtus V., she died without\na home of her own; a lamentable instance of the ignominious end awaiting\nthose who have been endowed by a kind Providence with the noblest of\ngifts, but have made a wrong use of them.\n\n\nTHE CROSS IN THE DESERT.\n\nSome few years ago a pilgrim sailed across the blue waters of the\nMediterranean, smitten with the love of the cross, and bearing in his\nhand \u201cthe banner with the strange device.\u201d\n\nIt was a lovely summer\u2019s evening. The fierce African sun was sinking to\nhis rest behind the hill on which the ruins of the old city of Hippo\nstand; and as the pilgrim, who had climbed to its summit, stood gazing\naround him, the glow of the western sky bathed his dusty garments in a\ngolden light, touching the ruins with a splendor of its own, and lighting\nup the sea, that heaved gently down below, with the brightness of amber\nand gold.\n\nThis, then, was all that remained of the proud old city whose name\nAugustine had made famous to the end of time!\n\nThese crumbling walls were once the school where he taught, the halls\nwhere his youthful eloquence fired the hearts of the great scholars of\nthe day; here were the baths where he lounged in his idle hours with\npleasure-loving companions; here the streets where every day he came\nand went from Monica\u2019s quiet home to the busy haunts of learning, of\nsophistry, and science; here was the place where she had wept so bitterly\nover him, the spot where that salutary fountain of a mother\u2019s tears had\nhad its source; here he had sinned; hence he had gone forth in search of\ntruth, and, having found it, hither he had come back, transformed into\na confessor and a doctor of the church; here, finally, he died, full of\nyears, leaving behind him a name great amongst the greatest saints whom\nthe church has raised to her altars.\n\nAnd what now remained to Africa of this light which had shed such glory\non her church? Where did his memory live? And the faith that he had\npractised--whither had it fled?\n\nThe pilgrim sat down upon a stone, and, after indulging in reflections\nsuch as these for some time, he rose and descended slowly towards the\nplain.\n\nWas it a fancy born of recent musings, or did he hear a voice issuing\nfrom the massive fragment of a wall which still supported a majestic\ndome, once probably the therm\u00e6 of the luxurious and wealthy citizens of\nHippo? Did he really see a light burning, or was it an hallucination\nborn of the mystic hour and the suggestive surroundings? He drew closer,\nlooked in, and beheld two white-bearded Arabs placing each a light on the\nhighest point of the wall. Was it some idolatrous rite, a spell, or an\nincantation they were performing?\n\n\u201cWhat are you doing?\u201d inquired the pilgrim.\n\n\u201cWe are burning lights to the great Christian,\u201d was the reply.\n\n\u201cWho is that? What is his name?\u201d\n\n\u201cWe do not know it; but we honor him because our fathers taught us to do\nso.\u201d\n\nSo, then, the memory of Augustine survived in the land, though his name\nhad perished!\n\nThe pilgrim murmured a prayer to the great Christian, as the Arabs\ncalled him, and turned away, carrying in his heart a hope that he had\nnot known an hour ago--a hope that Augustine was still watching for the\nresurrection of the cross in the land of his birth, and hastening its\nadvent by his intercession at the throne of Him whom he described as\n\u201cpatient because he is eternal.\u201d\n\nIt is a fact, as striking as it is consoling, that within the last few\nyears the faith has been making rapid conquests amidst the barbarous\nnations, where in the days of S. Augustine, and long after, it flourished\nso magnificently. Perhaps it is more surprising that this result should\nnot have been universal after nearly half a century of the rule of a\nCatholic power; but the mistaken policy of the French government, and,\nalas! we must add, the evil example of the French themselves, instead\nof breaking down existing barriers, have raised new and insurmountable\nones against the spread of Christianity amongst the conquered tribes.\nFrance proclaimed her intention of not alone tolerating, but protecting,\nIslamism throughout her African dominion. She carried this policy so\nfar for many years that it was made punishable by French law to convert\na Mussulman to the Catholic faith, whilst, on the other hand, it was\nperfectly lawful for any number of Catholics to turn Mussulmans. The\npriests who went out as missionaries were thwarted at every step by the\nFrench authorities. \u201cOur adversaries, the men who worry us and stand\nin the way of our making converts, are not the Arabs or even their\nmarabouts,\u201d said one of these devoted men to us only a few days ago;\n\u201cit is our own countrymen, Frenchmen calling themselves Catholics, _whom\nwe have chiefly_ to contend against.\u201d And he went on to describe how,\nduring the famine of 1867, when the Arabs were dying like flies all\nover the country, the French authorities were constantly on the alert\nto prevent the missionaries baptizing them, even _in extremis_. They\nactually sent detachments of spahees to the various places where the poor\nfamine-stricken creatures congregated in greater numbers to die; and when\nthe priest was seen approaching them, as they lay gasping in their agony,\nthe soldiers rushed forward to stop him from administering the sacrament\nof regeneration. One little missionary father contrived to outwit the\nauthorities, however, and, in spite of the lynx-eyes that were fixed on\nhim, he managed to baptize numbers from a little bottle of water hid\nunder his burnose.\n\nNo wonder the Arabs make small account of men who set such pitiful store\nby their religion. They, call the French \u201csons of Satan,\u201d and the French\npriests and good Christians among the seculars will tell you themselves\nthat the name is well deserved; that the employees of the government,\nmilitary and civil, make the most deplorable impression on the natives,\nand by their lives present a practical example of all the vices which it\nis the boast of civilization to destroy. They are so untruthful that the\nFrench missionaries declare they surpass even the Arabs in lies. The Arab\nis abstemious by nature, and the law of the Koran compels him to the most\nrigid sobriety; the Christians give him an example of excesses in eating\nand drinking which excite his disgust and contempt.\n\nThere is a legend current amongst the Arabs in the French dominions that\non a certain day Mahomet will arise and precipitate the sons of Satan\ninto the sea. When a Frenchman, in answer to this prophecy, points to\nthe strength of his government, its enormous resources, the power of\nsteam, and the monuments he has built in Algeria, the Mussulman with grim\ncontempt replies in his grave, sullen way: \u201cLook at the ruins of the old\nRoman monuments! They were mightier than any you have raised; and yet,\nbehold, they lie in ruins throughout the land, because Allah so willed.\nIt is written: Allah will cast you into the sea as he did the Romans.\u201d\n\nAll those who can speak from experience agree that there are no people\nso difficult to evangelize as the Mussulmans; the pure idolater is\ncomparatively an easy conquest to the missionary, but it requires almost\nthe miraculous intervention of divine grace to make the light of the\nGospel penetrate the stolid fatalism of the Mahometan.\n\nOne of the greatest obstacles to the reception of truth in the Arab is\nthe intuitive pride of race which arms him against the idea of receiving\nreligious instruction from a race of men whom he despises with a scorn\nwhich is actually a part of his religion, and who in their turn look down\non the children of the desert, and treat their manners and customs with\ncontempt. In order to overcome this first obstacle towards the success\nof their ministry, the missionaries conceived the idea of identifying\nthemselves, as far as possible, with the natives, adopting their dress,\ntheir manner of eating and sleeping, and in every way assimilating\noutwardly their daily lives to theirs.\n\nThey tried it, and the system has already worked wonders. How, indeed,\ncould it be otherwise? If faith can move mountains, cannot love melt\nthem? Love, the irresistible, the conqueror who subdues all hard things\nin this hard world--why should it fail with these men, who have human\nsouls like our own, fashioned after the likeness of our common God? Just\nfive years ago a handful of priests, Frenchmen, gone mad with the sweet\nfolly of the cross, heard of how these Arabs could not be persuaded to\nreceive the message of Christ crucified, but repulsed every effort to\nreach them. They were seized with a sudden desire to go and try if they\ncould not succeed where others had failed; so they offered themselves to\nthe Archbishop of Algiers as missionaries in his diocese. The offer was\ngladly accepted; but when the first presented himself to obtain faculties\nfor saying Mass in the villages outside Algiers and in the desert, the\narchbishop signed the permission with the words _visum pro martyrio_,\nand, handing it to the young apostle, said: \u201cDo you accept on these\nconditions?\u201d\n\n\u201cMonseigneur, it is for that I have come,\u201d was the joyous reply. And\ntruly, amongst all the perilous missions which every day lure brave souls\nto court the palm of martyrdom, there is not one where the chances are\nmore in favor of gaining it than in this mission of Sahara, where the\nburning sun of Africa, added to material privations that are absolutely\nincredible, makes the life of the most fortunate missionary a slow\nand daily martyrdom. His first task, in preparation for becoming a\nmissionary, is to master the language and to acquire some knowledge of\nthe healing art, of herbs and medicine; then he dons the dress of the\nArabs, which, conforming in all things to their customs, he does not\nquit even at night, but sleeps in it on the ground; he builds himself\na tent like theirs, and, in order to disarm suspicion, lives for some\ntime in their midst without making the least attempt at converting them;\nhe does not even court their acquaintance, but waits patiently for an\nopportunity to draw them towards him; this generally comes in the form of\na sick person whom the stranger offers to help and very frequently cures,\nor at least alleviates, cleanliness and the action of pure water often\nproving the only remedy required. The patient, in his gratitude, offers\nsome present, either in money, stuffs, or eatables, which the stranger\nwith gentle indignation refuses. Then follows some such dialogue as this:\n\u201cWhat! you refuse my thank-offering? Who, then, pays you?\u201d\n\n\u201cGod, the true God of the Christians. I have left country and family and\nhome, and all my heart loves best, for his sake and for his service; do\nyou think you or any man living can pay me for this?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat are you, then?\u201d demands the astonished Arab.\n\n\u201cI am a marabout of Jesus Christ.\u201d And the Mussulman retires in great\nwonder as to what sort of a religion it can be whose marabouts take\nneither money nor goods for their services. He tells the story to the\nneighbors, and by degrees all the sick and maimed of the district come\ntrooping to the missionary\u2019s door. He tends them with untiring charity.\nNothing disgusts him; the more loathsome the ulcers, the more wretched\nthe sufferer, the more tenderness he lavishes on them.\n\nSoon his hut is the rendezvous of all those who have ailments or wounds\nfor miles round; and though they entreat him, sometimes on their knees,\nto accept some token of thanks for his services, he remains inexorable,\nreturning always the same answer: \u201cI serve the God of heaven and earth;\nthe kings of this world are too poor to pay me.\u201d\n\nHe leads this life for fifteen months before taking his vows as a\nmissionary. When he has bound himself to the heroic apostleship, he is in\ndue time ordained, if not already a priest, and goes forth, in company\nwith two other priests, to establish a mission in some given spot of\nSahara or Soodan, these desolated regions being the appointed field of\ntheir labors. The little community follows exactly the same line of\nconduct in the beginning of its installation as above described; they\nkeep strictly aloof until, by dint of disinterestedness and of devotion\nand skilful care of the sick, they have disarmed the fierce mistrust\nof the \u201ctrue believers,\u201d and convinced them that they are not civil\nfunctionaries or in any way connected with the government. The Arab\u2019s\nhorror of everybody and of everything emanating from French headquarters\npartakes of the intense character of his fanaticism in religious matters.\nBy degrees the natives become passionately attached to the foreign\nmarabouts, who have now to put limits to the gratitude which would invest\nthem with semi-divine attributes. The great aim of the missionaries is\nof course to get possession of the children, so as to form a generation\nof future missionaries. Nothing short of this will plant the cross in\nAfrica, and, while securing the spiritual regeneration of the country,\nrestore to that luxuriant soil its ancient fertility. Once reconciled\nto civilization by Christianity, those two millions of natives, who are\nnow in a state of chronic suppressed rebellion against their conquerors,\nwould be disarmed and their energies turned to the cultivation of the\nland and the development of its rich resources by means of agricultural\nimplements and science which the French could impart to them. Nor is it\nwell to treat with utter contempt the notion of a successful rebellion\nin Algeria. At the present moment such an event would be probably\nimpossible; but there is no reason why it should be so in years hence.\nThe Arabs are as yet not well provided with arms and ammunition; but they\nare making yearly large purchases in this line at Morocco and Tunis,\nand the study of European military science is steadily progressing.\nThe deep-seated hatred of the Mussulmans for the yoke of the stranger\nis moreover as intense as in the first days of their bondage; and if\neven to-morrow, unprepared as they are materially, the \u201choly war\u201d were\nproclaimed, it would rouse the population to a man. The marabouts would\nget upon the minarets, and send forth the call to every son of Mahomet to\narise and fight against the sons of the devil, proclaiming the talismanic\npromise of the Koran: \u201cEvery true believer who falls in the holy war is\nadmitted at once into the paradise of Mahomet.\u201d The number who would call\non the prophet to fulfil the promise would no doubt be enormous, and the\nFrench would in all human probability remain masters of the desert; but\na kingdom held on such tenure as this state of feeling involves is at\nbest but a sorry conquest. If the Gospel had been, we do not even say\nenforced, but simply encouraged and zealously taught, by the conquerors,\ntheir position would be a very different one in Algeria now. After all,\nthere is no diplomatist like holy church. \u201cOur little systems have their\nday\u201d and fall to pieces one after another, perishing with the ambitions\nand feuds and enthusiasms that gave them birth, and leave the world\npretty much as they found it; but the power of the Gospel grows and\nendures and fructifies wherever its divine policy penetrates. No human\nlegislation, be it ever so wise, can cope with this divine legislator;\nnone other can take the sting out of defeat, can make the conquerors\nloved by the conquered, and turn the chains of captivity from iron to\nsilk. Even on the lowest ground, in mere self-interest, governments\nwould do well to constitute themselves the standard-bearers of the\nKing who rules by love, and subdues the stubborn pride of men by first\nwinning their hearts. The supremacy of this power of love is nowhere more\nstrikingly exemplified than amidst these barbarous Arab tribes.\n\nThe story of every little dark-eyed waif sheltered at the Orphanage of\nS. Charles, lately established outside Algiers, would furnish a volume\nin itself; but an incident connected with the admission of one of them,\nand related to us a few days ago by a missionary just returned, is so\ncharacteristic that we are tempted to relate it. The archbishop was\nmaking a visitation in the poor villages sixty miles beyond Algiers; the\npriest presented to him a miserable-looking little object whose parents\nstill lived in a neighboring desert tribe, but who had cast off the child\nbecause of its sickliness and their poverty. Could his lordship possibly\nget him taken in as an orphan? The thing was not easy; for every spot\nwas full, and the fact of the parents being still alive militated against\nthe claim of the little, forlorn creature. But the archbishop\u2019s heart\nwas touched. He said he would arrange it somehow; let the boy be sent\non to Ben-Aknoun at once. This, however, was easier said than done; who\nwould take charge of him on such a long journey? His grace\u2019s carriage\n(a private conveyance dignified by that name) was at the door. \u201cPut\nhim in; I will take him,\u201d he said, looking kindly at the small face\nwith the great dark eyes that were staring wistfully up at him. But the\npriest and every one present exclaimed at the idea of this. The Arabs\nare proverbial for the amount of _light infantry_ which they carry about\nwith them in their hair and their rags; and the fact of their presence in\nmyriads on the person of this little believer was evident to the naked\neye. The archbishop, however, nothing daunted, ordered him to be placed\nin the carriage; then, finding no one would obey him, he caught up the\nlittle fellow in his arms, embraced him tenderly amidst the horrified\nprotestations of the priest and others, carried him to the carriage,\nseated him comfortably, and then got in himself and away they drove. A\nlarge crowd had assembled to see the great marabout depart, and stood\nlooking on the extraordinary scene in amazement. A few days later several\nof them came to see the priest, and ask to be instructed in the religion\nwhich works such miracles in the hearts of men, and to offer their\nchildren to be brought up Christians.\n\nThis Orphanage of S. Charles is the most precious institution which\nCatholic zeal has so far established in Algiers. It comprises a school\nfor boys, and one for girls conducted by nuns. The description of the\nlife there sounds like some beautiful old Bible legend. It is a life of\nconstant privation, toil, and suffering, both for the fathers and for\nthe sisters; but the results as regards the children are so abundant and\nconsoling that the missionaries are sometimes moved to exclaim, \u201cVerily,\nwe have had our reward!\u201d\n\nThe full-grown Arab is perhaps as wretched a specimen of unregenerate\nhuman nature as the world can furnish. Every vice seems natural to him,\nexcept gluttony, which he only acquires with the spurious civilization\nimported by his conquerors. He is relentless and vindictive; false,\navaricious, cruel, and utterly devoid of any idea of morality; yet the\nchildren of these men and women are like virgin soil on which no evil\nseed has ever fallen. Their docility is marvellous, their capacity for\ngratitude indescribably touching, and their religious sense deep, lively,\nand affective. They accept the teaching of the missionaries and the nuns\nas if piety were an inherited instinct in them; and the truths of our\nholy faith act upon their minds with the power of seen realities.\n\nOne of the fathers told us, as an instance of this, that the children\nwere allowed to play in the fruit garden once when the trees were in\nfull bearing; and not a single fig, orange, or any other fruit being\ntouched, some visitor asked the children in surprise if they never pulled\nany when their superiors were not looking; but they answered in evident\nastonishment: \u201cOh! no; God would see us, and he would be angry!\u201d We\nquite agreed with the narrator that such a general example of obedience\nand self-denial from such a principle might be vainly sought for in\nour most carefully-taught schools in Europe and--would it be a calumny\nto add?--America. The children also show a spirit of sacrifice that is\nvery striking, the girls especially. If they are ill and some nauseous\nmedicine is presented to them, the little things seize the cup with\navidity, and with a word, such as \u201cFor thee, dear Jesus!\u201d drain it off at\nonce. They realize so clearly that every correction imposed on them is\nfor their good that it is nothing rare to see them go to the presiding\nfather or sister and ask to be punished when they have committed some\nlittle misdemeanor unobserved. One little mite of six felt very sulky\ntowards a companion, and, after a short and vain struggle to overcome\nherself, she went to the nun and begged to be whipped, \u201cbecause she\ncould not make the devil go away.\u201d Their vivid Oriental imaginations\npaint all the terrible and beautiful truths of the faith in colors\nthat have the living glow of visible pictures. They have the tenderest\ndevotion to our Lord in the Blessed Sacrament, and nothing pleases them\nmore than to be allowed to spend their hour of recreation in prayer\nbefore the tabernacle. Their sense of gratitude for the blessing of the\nfaith makes them long with an indescribable yearning to share it with\ntheir people. All their prayers and little sacrifices are offered up\nwith this intention. Those among them who were old enough to remember\nthe wretchedness they were rescued from, speak of it continually with\nthe most touching gratitude to God and their instructors. One of\ntheir greatest pleasures is to count over the good things they have\nreceived from God. A sister overheard two of them one day summing\nthem up as follows: \u201cHe gives us bread and the sunshine and a house;\nhe has preserved us from dying in the night-time; he prevents the sea\noverflowing and drowning us; he has given us monseigneur and our mammas\n[the nuns]; he came on earth to teach us to be obedient; he brought us\nthe Gospel; he has given us the Blessed Virgin to be our mamma, and then\nour angels, and then the Holy Father; he forgives us our sins; he has\ngiven us sacraments for our soul and body; he stays always with us in the\nchapel; he is keeping our place in heaven; he looks at us when we are\nnaughty, and that makes us sorry, and then he forgives us.\u201d And so they\ngo on composing canticles out of their innocent hearts that must make\nsweet music in His ears who so loved the little ones.\n\nThe deaths of some of these little barbarians are as lovely as any we\nread of in the lives of the saints. One of them, who was baptized by\nthe name of Amelia, has left a memory that will long be cherished in\nBen-Aknoun. She was dying of a lingering, terrible disease; but her\nsufferings never once provoked a murmur. She was as gay as a little bird\nand as gentle as a lamb; her only longing was to see God. \u201cAnd what will\nyou do besides in heaven?\u201d asked one of her companions. \u201cI will walk\nabout with the angels,\u201d she replied, \u201cand be on the watch to meet our\nmammas when they come to the beautiful gates.\u201d In her sleep she used to\npray still; many a time the nuns found her muttering her rosary with\nclasped hands while sleeping the sound sleep of a tired child. She fought\nagainst death as long as she could, insisting on getting up and going\nto the chapel, where sometimes she would lie exhausted with pain and\nweakness on the step of the altar, breathing her prayers softly until\nshe dropped asleep. Her only fear was lest she should not make her First\nCommunion before she died; but her extreme youth (she was not quite eight\nyears old) was compensated for by her ardent piety. They gave her our\nBlessed Lord after giving her Extreme Unction. The expression of her\nface was seraphic in its joy and peace. All her little companions were\nkneeling round her bed, their eyes fixed in admiration on the beaming\ncountenance of the dying child. One of them, called Anna, who was her\nchosen friend, an orphan from a remote desert tribe like herself, drew\nnear to say good-by. The two children clasped each other in silence; but\nwhen they parted, the tears were streaming down Amelia\u2019s cheeks. \u201cWhy did\nyou make her cry, my child?\u201d whispered the nun to Anna reproachfully. \u201cI\ndid not do it on purpose,\u201d was the reply. \u201cI only said, \u2018O Amelia! you\nare too happy; why can\u2019t you take me with you?\u2019 and then we both cried.\u201d\nThe happy little sufferer lingered on in great pain for another day and\nnight, constantly kissing her crucifix, thanking those around her for\ntheir kindness and patience.\n\nTowards the evening of the second day the pains grew rapidly worse, and\nshe entreated to be carried to the chapel, that she might look once more\nupon the tabernacle. The nun took her in her arms, and laid her on the\nstep of the altar, when her sufferings instantly ceased, and she sank\ninto a sleep which they thought was the last one. She was carried back\nand laid on her bed, but soon opened her eyes with a look of ecstatic\njoy, and cried out, gazing upwards, \u201cSee! how beautifully it shines. And\nthe music--do you hear? Oh! it is the _Gloria in Excelsis_.\u201d No one heard\nanything; only _her_ ears were opened to the heavenly harmonies that were\nsounding through the half-open doors of Paradise. She continued listening\nwith the same rapt expression of delight, and then, clasping her little\nhands together, she cried, \u201cAlleluia! alleluia!\u201d and fell back and spoke\nno more. She had passed the golden portals; the glories of heaven were\nvisible to her now.\n\nWhat wonder if the apostolic souls who reap such harvests as these\ncount their labors light, and rejoice in the midst of their poverty and\nself-imposed martyrdom!\n\nBut there are homelier and less pathetic joys in the Orphanage every now\nand then than these blessed deaths. When the boys and girls have learnt\nall they need learn, and have come to the age when they must leave the\nfathers and the nuns, they are perfectly free to return to their native\ntribes; and it is a convincing argument in favor of the strength of their\nnewly-acquired principles and affections that they almost invariably\nrefuse to do so. The proportion of those who go back to the old life is\none in every hundred. The next thing to be considered is what to do with\nthose who refuse to go back. The plan of marrying the orphans amongst\neach other suggested itself as the most practical method of securing\nlasting results from their Christian education. The chief difficulty in\nthe execution of this plan was the reluctance of the Arab girls to marry\nmen of their own race; they had learned the privileges which women owe to\nChristianity, and they had no mind to forego their dignity and equality,\nand sink back into the degraded position of an Arab\u2019s wife. \u201cWe will\nnot marry to be beaten,\u201d they argued. \u201cFind us Frenchmen, and we will\nmarry them and be good wives.\u201d No doubt they would, but the Frenchmen\nunfortunately could not be induced to take this view of the case; and\nit required all the influence of their superiors to make the girls\nunderstand that Christianity, in raising woman from the condition of a\nslave to that of man\u2019s equal, compels him to respect and cherish her.\n\nThe way in which the courtship and marriage proceed between the sons and\ndaughters of the great marabout (as the archbishop is called) is curious\nin its picturesque simplicity.\n\nA band of fifteen couples were lately married from the Orphanage of\nBen-Aknoun. The fathers informed the archbishop they had fifteen\nexcellent boys who were about to leave, and whom they wished to find\nwives for and settle in the nearest Christian village. The archbishop\nasked the superior of the girls\u2019 school if she could supply fifteen\nmaidens who would go and share the humble homes of their brother orphans.\n\nThe superior replied that she had precisely the number required--girls\nwho must leave the shelter of the convent in a few months, and whom she\nwas most anxious to see provided for. The grapes were ripe, and the\nvintage, which was close at hand, would furnish an opportunity for a\nmeeting between the parties. So one morning, in the cool, sweet dawn,\nthey set out to the vineyard, the maidens conducted by a sister, the\nyouths by one of the priests; the latter took one side and culled the\ngrapes, while at the other side the maidens gathered up the branches\nand bound them into bundles. As they went they sang hymns and canticles\nto lighten their labor; and when the day\u2019s task was done, they left the\nvineyard in two distinct bands, as they had come, and returned to their\nseparate convents.\n\n\u201cWell,\u201d said Mgr. de la Vigerie to the presiding father next day, \u201chave\nthe young men chosen each his maiden, and is the choice approved?\u201d\n\n\u201cAlas! monseigneur, they did not even look at each other,\u201d replied the\ndisconsolate matchmaker. \u201cThey never raised their eyes from their work.\nSister C---- and I watched them like lynxes.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou have brought up the children too well, my good father,\u201d cried the\narchbishop in despair. \u201cWhat is to be done with them now?\u201d\n\n\u201cHave a little patience, my lord, and it will come in good time,\u201d replied\nthe father encouragingly.\n\nNext day the two bands of maidens and youths sallied forth again to the\nvineyard, and so every day for a week.\n\nThen the father came in triumph to the archbishop to announce the\nsuccessful issue of the scheme. One by one the youths had plucked up\ncourage and peeped through the tendrils of the vine, and, thanks to some\nmagnetic sympathy, two dark eyes had been simultaneously raised to meet\ntheirs, and they smiled at each other. A little further on the green\nleaves were fluttered by a whisper asking the fair one\u2019s name; she told\nit, and another whisper told her his. So the flower blossomed in the\nthirty young hearts, and the priest and the sister who watched the gentle\ngrowth looked on delighted.\n\nBut what wily diplomatists they are, these holy missionaries! How they\nknow the human heart, and how cunningly they can play upon it! Not a\nword did they say; but, feigning complete blindness to the pretty little\ncomedy, marshalled the laborers home as if nothing had occurred to change\nthe still current of their young lives. A month went by, and then, when\nthe time came for the youths to leave the Orphanage, the father inquired,\nwith seeming innocence, if they thought of marriage by and by.\n\nThe question was evaded at first shyly; then by degrees the confession\ncame out--they had each determined to marry one of the maidens of the\nvineyard. The father threw up his hands in amazement, shook his head, and\nexpressed grave doubts as to the possibility of their obtaining such a\nprize. These maidens were pearls worthy to be set in fine gold; they had\nbeen reared like delicate plants in the shadow of the sanctuary; their\nhearts were pure as lilies, guileless as the flowers of the field; they\nwere strong in faith and adorned with all the virtues. Were poor Arab\nyouths worthy of such wives? But, brave with the boldness of true love,\nthe suitors answered in one voice: \u201cWe will be worthy; we will work for\nthem and serve them faithfully; we will love them and be fathers and\nmothers to them! Give us the maidens of the vineyard!\u201d\n\nThe missionary heaved a sigh, looked mightily perplexed, but promised to\nspeak to the archbishop and see what could be done. After several solemn\ninterviews, in which the young men were severely catechised and warned,\nand made to pledge themselves to strive with all their might to make the\nmaidens happy, to treat them reverently, and serve them humbly, the\narchbishop undertook to intercede for them. The fair ones, being of the\nrace of Eve, were a trifle coy at first; but soon the truth was elicited,\nand each confessed that, since she needs must marry some one, Ben-A\u00efssa,\nor Hassan, or Scheriff, would be less distasteful than another. So the\ngreat affair was settled, and soon came the day of the weddings. The\narchbishop himself was to perform the ceremony.\n\nThe fathers and sisters were afoot before sunrise, you may be sure; for\nwhat an event was this! Fifteen Christian marriages celebrated between\nthe children of this fallen race of idolaters! And now see! the two\nprocessions are approaching the church, the bridegrooms draped in the\nnative white burnose, with the scarlet turban on their heads; the brides\nclad in spotless white, a soft white veil crowned with white flowers\ncovering them from head to foot. Slowly, with the simple majesty inherent\nin their race, they advance to the altar and kneel side by side before\nthe archbishop, who stands awaiting them, robed in his gala vestments.\nHe looks down upon the thirty young souls whom his love has brought here\nto the foot of the altar--the altar of the true God; thirty souls whom\nhe has had the unspeakable joy and happiness of rescuing from misery in\nthis life and--may he not hope?--in the next. He must speak a few words\nto them. He tries; but the father\u2019s heart is too full. The tears start to\nhis eyes and course down those careworn cheeks; he goes from one to the\nother, and silently presses his hands on the head of each. The marriage\nrite begins; the blessing of the God of Abraham is called down upon this\nnew seed that has sprung up in the parched land of the patriarch, once\nso fertile in saints; the music plays, and songs of rejoicing resound\non every side as the fifteen brides issue from the church with their\nbridegrooms.\n\nAnd now do you care to follow them to their new homes, and to see where\ntheir after-life is cast? The earthly providence which has so tenderly\nfostered them thus far follows them still into the wide world where they\nhave embarked.\n\nThe archbishop\u2019s plan from the start was to found Christian villages\nin the desert, and to people them with these new Christians educated\nby the missionaries. The cost of founding a village, including the\npurchase of the land, the building of twenty-five huts, furnishing the\ninhabitants with European implements of labor, building a little church\nand a house for the fathers and one for the sisters, an enclosure for the\ncattle, a well to supply that first element of life and comfort--pure\nwater in abundance--amounts to forty thousand francs (or say eight\nthousand dollars), and this only with the utmost economy. The Society\nfor the Propagation of the Faith--that glorious institution, to which\nChristendom owes a debt that can only be paid in heaven--comes nobly to\nthe assistance of Mgr. de la Vigerie. He supplies the rest himself out of\nthe resources of his apostolic heart, so inexhaustible in its ingenious\ndevices of charity; he prays and begs, and sends his missionaries all\nover the world begging.\n\nOne of them has lately come over to Paris on that most heroic of\nChristian enterprises--a begging tour--and has brought with him a little\nblack boy from Timbuctoo, who had been bought and sold seven times before\nfalling into the hands of these new masters for the sum of three hundred\nfrancs. He is not yet ten years old--a mild-faced little fellow, who,\nwhen you ask him in French if he likes the father, answers by a grin too\nsignificant to need further comment, as he turns his ebony face up to\nP\u00e8re B---- and wriggles a little closer to him. P\u00e8re B---- told us the\nchild belonged to a man-eating tribe, and turned up the corner of his lip\nto show some particular formation of the teeth peculiar to that amiable\nrace of _gourmands_. He says that the same charming docility which marks\nthe young Arabs is observable in most of the savage tribes; they are far\nmore susceptive and easily moulded and impressed than the children of the\ncivilized races.\n\nThe capture and purchase of these unhappy little slaves all along\nthe coast and in the northern parts of Africa is part of the mission\nwhich brings the fathers the greatest consolation. It is of course\nattended with immense risk, sometimes danger even to life; but the human\nmerchandise which they thus obtain \u201cis worth it all and ten times more,\u201d\nthe P\u00e8re B---- declared emphatically, as he dilated on the fervor of\nthese poor children\u2019s faith and the intensity of their gratitude. The\ngreat and constant want for the carrying on of the mission is--need we\nmention it in this XIXth century, when we can scarcely save our own\nsouls, much less our neighbors\u2019, without it?--money. People say money is\nthe root of all evil; but really, when one sees what precious immortal\ngoods it can buy, one is tempted to declare it the root of all good. The\narchbishop has recently sent one of his missionaries, the P\u00e8re C----, to\nbeg in America, and we are heartily glad to hear it. A French priest,\nspeaking about begging for good works the other day, said to the writer:\n\u201cI wish I could go to America and make the round of the States with my\nhat in my hand. They are a delightful people to beg of. Somehow they are\nso sympathetic to the Catholic principle embodied in begging for our Lord\nthat they take all the sting out of it for one; but, oh! what a bitter\ncud it is to chew in Europe.\u201d We hope the good father\u2019s experience did\nnot represent the general one on the latter point, but is well founded\nas to the generous spontaneity of our American fellow-Catholics towards\nthose who have \u201cheld out the hat\u201d to them in the name of our blessed\nLord. Sweet bond of charity! how it welds the nations together, casting\nits silver nets and drawing all hearts into its meshes! It matters not\nwhether the fisher come from a near country united to us by ties of blood\nor clanship, or from some distant clime where the very face of man is\nscarce that of a brother whom we recognize; he comes in the name of our\ncommon Lord, and asks us to help in the saving of souls that cost as\ndear to ransom as ours. He may labor sometimes all the night, and take\nnothing; but the dawn comes, when he meets Jesus in the persons of those\ngenerous souls who love him and have his interests at heart, and are\nalways ready to befriend him; and then the net is cast into deep waters,\nand the draught is plentiful. Can we fancy a sweeter reward to stimulate\nour zeal in helping the divine Mendicant who holds out his hand to us\nfor an alms than the scene which at this moment many multitudes of these\nfaithful souls may contemplate in imagination as they have helped to\ncreate it.\n\nA gathering of small, low houses--huts, if you like--set in smiling\npatches of garden round a central building whose spire, pointing like\na silent finger to the skies, tells us at once its character and\ndestination. The time is towards sundown; the bell breaks the stillness\nof the desert air, and with its silvery tongue calls the villagers to\nprayer. The entire population, old and young, leave their work and\nrise obedient to the summons; the children quit their play and troop\non together, while the elders follow with grave steps. The priest is\nkneeling before the altar, where the lamp of the sanctuary, like a throb\nof the Sacred Heart within the tabernacle, sheds its solemn radiance\nin the twilight. The father begins the evening prayer; pardon is asked\nfor the sins and forgettings of the day, thanks are offered up for its\nhelps and mercies, blessings are invoked on the family assembled, then\non the benefactors far away. One who assisted at this idyl in the desert\ndeclares that when he heard the officiating priest call down the blessing\nof the Most High on \u201call those dear benefactors whom we do not know,\nbut who have been kind and charitable to us\u201d; and when the voices of\nthe Arabs answered in unison, repeating the prayer, he felt his heart\nbursting with joy at the thought that he was included amongst those on\nwhom this blessing was nightly invoked.\n\nThe Litany of Our Lady is then sung, and the assistants quietly disperse\nand go home. The cattle are lowing in the park. The stars, one by one,\nare coming out in the lovely sapphire sky. Angels are flying to many of\nthe white huts with gifts and messages. Some are speeding afar, eastward\nand westward, bearing graces just granted in answer to those grateful\nprayers; for who can tell the power of gratitude with God, or his loving\ninability to resist its wishes--he who was so lavish in his thanks for\nthe smallest act of kindness, nay, of courtesy, when he lived amongst us,\nand who declared that even a cup of cold water should not go without its\nreward?\n\n\nORIGIN AND PROGRESS OF THE MISSION OF KENTUCKY.\n\nFROM THE FRENCH.[184]\n\nThe Diocese of Bardstown, Kentucky, is a part of that vast extent of\ncountry known in our ancient geographies by the name of Louisiana. It\nis situated in the centre of the United States of North America, and is\nbounded on the north by the Ohio, on the west by the Mississippi, on the\nsouth by the State of Tennessee, and on the east by Virginia.\n\nWhen, in 1792, it was admitted into the Union as a State, its population\nwas about seventy thousand; but it has since then increased tenfold.\n\nAbout twenty poor Catholic families from Maryland, descendants of the\nEnglish colonists, came here to reside in 1785, as then good land could\nbe procured here almost for nothing.[185]\n\nTheir number rapidly increased, and in the year 1788 Father Wheelan, an\nIrish Franciscan, was sent to them. As they were then at war with the\nnatives, and as this was continued until 1795, this missionary, two of\nhis successors, and the colonists were compelled to cross the hostile\ncountry to arrive at the mission, even on reaching which their lives\nwere sometimes exposed to imminent dangers. Besides being at a distance\nfrom a priest, they had also to struggle against poverty, heresy, and\nvulgar prejudices with regard to the pretended idolatry of Catholics,\netc. Finally, Father Wheelan, at the expiration of two years and a half,\nabandoned a post so difficult to hold, without even the satisfaction of\nseeing a single chapel built. It was then impossible to find another\nmissionary to succeed him, and the faithful \u201cwere afflicted because they\nhad no shepherd\u201d (Zach. x. 2). Finally, Holy Orders were conferred in\n1793 for the first time in this part of the world, where the Catholics\nhad but so recently suffered under the penal laws of England. The\nillustrious Bishop Carroll, first bishop of Baltimore, there ordained a\npriest, M. Badin, from Orleans, whom he then sent to Kentucky. Besides\nthe difficulties which his predecessor met, the inexperience of the\nyoung ecclesiastic, his slight knowledge of the English language and of\nthe habits of the country, made his task still more difficult. One can\neasily conceive how painful must have been the situation of a novice thus\nisolated and deprived of guidance in a ministry the weight of which would\nhave been burdensome for the angels even, say the holy fathers of the\nchurch.\n\nIt is true he started from Baltimore with another French priest who\nwas invested with the power of vicar-general. But this priest was soon\ndiscouraged by the wandering habits of the people and their style of\nlife. Four months had scarcely elapsed when he returned to New Orleans.\nM. Badin was thus in sole charge of the mission during several years,\nwhich mission, since the conclusion of peace with the savage tribes,\ncontinually increased by the influx of the Catholics who came here in\nlarge numbers from Maryland and other localities.\n\nIn addition to the fatigue of travelling, to controversy with\nProtestants, to his pastoral solicitude, and to the frequent scruples\nof conscience natural to one in a situation so critical, he had to\nexert himself still more to form new parishes, prepare ecclesiastical\nestablishments at suitable distances, and finally to erect churches\nor chapels in the different places where the Catholic population\nestablished itself. Nevertheless, by the divine mercy he obtained from\ntime to time profitable advice through the letters which the charity\nof the neighboring priest, who, though at a distance of seventy miles,\nfound means to write him. M. Rivet, formerly professor of rhetoric in\nthe College of Limoges, in the year 1795 came to reside as _cur\u00e9_ and\nvicar-general at Post Vincennes, on the Wabash, in Indiana.\n\nBut the respective needs of the two missions never permitted them to\ncross the desert in order to visit one another or to offer mutual\nencouragement and consolation in the Lord. Oh! how much anguish, how many\nprayers and tears, arise from such isolation! And did not our divine\nSaviour send his disciples in couples to preach the Gospel?--_misit illos\nbinos_ (S. Luc. x.)\n\nFinally, two priests from the Diocese of Blois--MM. Fournier and\nSalmon--came successively, in the years 1797 and 1799, to the rescue of\nthe pastor and his flock.\n\nDivine Providence rendered useful to Kentucky and to several other\nportions of the Diocese of Baltimore the talents and virtues of a great\nnumber of ecclesiastics whom the French Revolution threw on the shores of\nAmerica. In the same year, 1799, there arrived a fourth missionary--M.\nThayer, the Presbyterian minister of Boston, who was converted through\nthe miracles of blessed Labre. At first he ridiculed this humble servant\nof God and the miracles which were attributed to him, but afterwards he\ninvestigated them with all the prejudices of a sectarian. He brought\nto bear upon them his severest criticism, and finished by becoming a\nCatholic at Rome, a priest at Paris, and a missionary in his own country,\nwhere he had formerly propagated error. He found himself forced to write\nseveral English works of controversy, which are lucid and deservedly\nappreciated. His conversion, his writings, and his sermons excited either\nthe interest or the curiosity of all classes of society, and he hoped to\nserve the cause of religion in multiplying himself, if one may speak\nthus. He travelled over the United States, Canada, and a great part of\nEurope, and died, beloved and revered, at Limerick, in Ireland.\n\nThe missionaries of Kentucky are obliged to ride on horseback nearly\nevery day of the year, and to brave often alone the solitude of the\nforests, the darkness of night, and the inclemency of the seasons, to\nminister to the sick and to visit their congregations on the appointed\ndays.[186]\n\nWithout this exactitude it would be difficult to assemble the families\nscattered so far apart. M. Salmon was without doubt an excellent\necclesiastic, though but a poor horseman. His zeal induced him, on the\n9th of November, 1799, to visit a distant parish where he was instructing\na Protestant who has since then embraced the faith.\n\nBeing already feeble and just convalescing from a severe illness, a\nfall from his horse carried him to the grave in less than thirty-six\nhours. The accident happened towards noon at a little distance from a\nresidence. A servant who found him half-dead in the woods went to solicit\naid, which was denied him by an impious and cruel farmer, simply because\nthe unfortunate man was a priest. It was only towards night that a good\nCatholic of the neighborhood--Mr. Gwynn--was informed of the fact. It\nmust nevertheless be admitted that this farmer\u2019s revolting conduct is\nin nowise American, and can but be attributed to his individual hate\nfor the true religion. Perhaps, also, he was ignorant of the extremity\nto which M. Salmon was reduced. This fatal event, the departure of M.\nThayer for Ireland, and the equally sudden death of M. Fournier in\nFebruary, 1803, left M. Badin for about seventeen months in sole charge\nof the mission, then consisting of about a thousand families scattered\nover a space of from seven to eight hundred square miles. The death\nof M. Rivet, which took place in February, 1803, deprived him of the\ncomforting letters of this friend, who expired almost in the arms of\nthe governor of the province, whose esteem and affection he enjoyed. At\nthis unfortunate period the nearest priest was a M. Olivier from Nantes,\nan elderly gentleman, who resided at a distance of one hundred and\nthirty miles in an Illinois village called Prairie du Rocher. Moreover,\nhe ministered to Kaskaskia, where the Jesuits had formerly instituted\na novitiate; Cahokia, St. Louis, capital of Missouri, St. Genevieve,\netc., on the banks of the Mississippi. M. Richard, a zealous and pious\nSulpitian, resided at the same distance at Detroit, on Lake St. Clair, in\nMichigan.[187]\n\nFinally, there were then but three priests in an extent of country larger\nthan would be France and Spain if united, and which country constitutes\nto-day but one diocese, called Bardstown, formed in 1808 by the reigning\nPope, as will be seen in the sequel.\n\nIt is true that the most distant parishes can be visited but seldom, and\nit is especially in these instances that the zeal of faith and the fervor\nof piety are most evident.\n\nOne finds a great many persons who undertake fatiguing trips in order to\nfulfil their Christian duties. They are seen at times to spend the night\nin church, in order to make sure of having access to the sacred tribunal,\nwhere the missionaries are to be found from early dawn.\n\nThey are obliged to say, and sometimes even to chant, Mass at noon, and\noccasionally several hours afterwards, in order that all those who are\nprepared for the tribunal of Penance may also receive Holy Communion.\nNeither the fast, nor the late hour, nor the fatigues of the morning\nexempt them from instructing the people; otherwise it would never be\ndone, as the faithful are assembled but once a day. A sermon, or at least\nan impromptu exhortation, on controversy, morals, or the discipline of\nthe church, is always in order. After divine service there are the dead\nto be buried, the children to be baptized, marriages to be performed,\netc., and then the departure for another station, which being reached\nthe next day, the same services are to be repeated. Often it so happens\nthat there is not one day of rest during the entire week, especially when\nseveral sick persons who live far apart are to be visited.\n\nWhile the confessor is occupied with his priestly functions the\ncatechists instruct the children and the negroes, sing canticles, and\nrecite the rosary, etc. To in a manner fill the vacancy caused by their\nabsence, the priests recommended public prayer in families, catechism,\nand nightly examination of conscience; Mass prayers, devotions of S.\nBridget, the litanies, spiritual reading on Sundays and feast-days. Pious\npersons add to this the rosary, and their devotion to the Blessed Virgin\ncauses them every day to recite some special prayer in her honor.\n\nThe fear of God, respect for the priesthood, or filial piety often causes\ngood Christians to bend the knee before their fathers and mothers, their\nsponsors, and their priests, to ask their blessing after prayer, in the\nstreets of the city or on the highways. English books on controversy are\nbeing rapidly multiplied, and the majority of the country-people know\nhow to read them, and there are some persons in every congregation who\nreally study them in order to render themselves capable of sustaining a\ndiscussion with Protestants.\n\nBy this means, as also by their piety and honesty, they assist from\ntime to time in gaining conversions to the faith. The number of these\ngood works greatly increased when Providence sent to us, in 1804, a new\nmissionary, M. N\u00e9rinckx, a Flemish priest, who pursued his apostolic\nlabors unceasingly. He instituted three monasteries, which were of great\nbenefit in educating poor girls, either Catholics or non-Catholics. These\nreligious women, who are called Friends of Mary at the Foot of the Cross,\nremind us of the days of the primitive church. Their manner of life is\nexceedingly laborious; they observe perpetual silence, and are almost\nenveloped in their veil.[188]\n\nA short time after M. N\u00e9rinckx arrived at the mission he was followed\nthere by a colony of Trappists, and by two pious and learned English\npriests of the Order of S. Dominic. The one, Father Wilson, afterwards\nbecame provincial; and Rev. Father Tuite is at present master of novices.\nThe Trappists organized a school for gratuitous education, but failed\nto find among the poor Catholics of the neighborhood sufficient means\nto maintain this charitable institution. Father Urbain Guillet, their\nsuperior, had conceived the idea of rendering himself useful to the\nsavages by educating their children for them, hoping in this way to\nfacilitate their conversion.\n\nIn pursuance of this idea he formed a new establishment near Cahokia.\nThese good religious greatly edified the country by their austerity,\ntheir silence, and their good works; but as missions were not the objects\nof their order, they returned to France at the Restoration. We must now\nspeak of the natives, and by so doing gratify the very natural curiosity\nof our readers. The majority of the savages believe in the existence,\nin the spirituality, and in the unity of God, whom they style the Great\nSpirit, the Master of Life, or Kissernanetou. They even appear to believe\nsomewhat in his providence; they offer him prayers, and sometimes even\nsacrifices according to their fashion. Here is an example, which is\nauthentic, as it was told the author of this work by Gen. Todd, one of\nthe leading men of Kentucky. A native, annoyed by the extreme drought,\noffered his pipe, or wampum, his most valuable article, to the Great\nSpirit; then, seated pensively on the banks of a river, he supplicated\nhim thus: \u201cKissernanetou! thou knowest how highly the Indian prizes his\nwampum; well, then, give us rain, and I will give thee my wampum.\u201d And\nas the Indian said this, he threw his pipe in the river, fully persuaded\nthat the Great Spirit would hear his prayer. They also believe in a\nfuture state, as with their dead they bury their guns or cross-bows to\nenable them to hunt in the next world; also their pipe and tobacco, meat,\netc. Those who were instructed by the Jesuits, although deprived of\nmissionaries for about fifty years, still retain some idea of the true\nreligion, as will be seen from letters of M. Olivier, from which letters\nwe will give a few examples; the first, being dated the 16th of May,\n1806, is addressed to Father Urbain Guillet; the second, dated the 6th of\nAugust, 1806; and the third, the 15th of March, 1807, were written to M.\nBadin:\n\n1. \u201cAmong the savage tribes who from the time of the Jesuits (whom they\ncalled Black Gowns) had embraced Christianity and had erected churches in\nwhich the greatest regularity existed, to-day, notwithstanding I am their\npastor, I do nothing but baptize their children, although among those of\nPost Vincennes there are some who come to confession; which leads me to\nthink that you might procure some of their children.\n\n2. \u201cSince the banishment of the Jesuit fathers religion has decreased\nby degrees, until now there remain but a few traces which would remind\none of extinct piety. I am not forgetting the desire expressed by Father\nGuillet, superior of the Trappists--namely, to have in his community some\nof the children of these savages. The chief of the nation, who is at\nKaskaskia, promised to ask his brethren to send some here.\n\n3. \u201cThe chief of those at Kaskaskia, in selling his lands to the\ngovernment of the United States, required that it should build him a\nchurch; and there is a provision of 300 piastres and 100 piastres to be\npaid yearly to the missionary priest for seven years. Can these missions\nbe revived? The mercy of God is great, etc.\u2026\u201d\n\nYes, the mercy of God is great, and it may be hoped that Mgr. Dubourg and\nhis missionaries, who for some years have been living in the vicinity of\nthe Missouri and the Mississippi, will have all desired success, which\nthey must undoubtedly obtain if they succeed, as did the Jesuits, in\nprocuring the assistance of the French government.\n\nThe religious of S. Dominic succeeded tolerably well in their\nestablishments in Kentucky and Ohio.\n\nFather Edward Fenwick, born in Maryland, had become a member of this\norder, and professor at the College of Bornheim, in Flanders, where he\nhad been educated. Upon his return to his native country he spent his\ninheritance in founding the Convent of S. Rose and a school which is\nsituated in Washington County. Two zealous missionaries, Father Fenwick\nand his nephew, Father Young, were the first to devote themselves, two\nyears ago, to preach the faith in the State of Ohio, north of Kentucky,\nand three churches have already been built there.[189]\n\nThe congregations in the interior are composed of Germans, Irish, and\nAmericans; but on the lakes that separate the United States from Canada\nthey are formed of French colonies. In the State and on the right bank of\nthe Ohio is situated Gallipolis, principal seat of the county of Gallia,\nwhere in 1791 some French colonists tried to establish themselves; but\nthey were victims of a miserable speculation, and the majority of them\nleft the country.\n\nMM. Barri\u00e8res and Badin baptized in this place about forty children in\nthe year 1793, and then went to Kentucky. The entire village revived at\nthe sight of these two priests, their fellow-countrymen, at the singing\nof the sacred canticles, and the celebration of the Holy Mysteries.\nIn this part of America entire liberty of conscience and religion are\nenjoyed. One does not fear being molested if Christian burial be refused\nto those who have lived a scandalous life. On the contrary, it is\nexpected that such will be the case, as it is the rule of the church;\nhence the increased dread of dying without the Last Sacraments. Marriages\naccording to the Catholic rite are legal, and divorce and polygamy are\nunknown among Catholics.\n\nWe march in procession around our cemeteries; we erect crosses on them;\nwe preach in the hotels and other public places, and even in Protestant\nchurches, for want of chapels, and all the sects come in crowds. During\nthe Mass they behave in a respectful and attentive manner--some of them\neven bring us their children to baptize, and entrust the education of\ntheir daughters to our religious--and sometimes we are greatly astonished\nto see non-Catholics undertake to defend our belief. We also meet with\ngreat respect in social life; for the Americans are very fond of the\nFrench, whose politeness and gayety they try to emulate.\n\nThey remember with pleasure and gratitude the services they received from\nthe Martyr-King. Finally, the government of Kentucky has incorporated\nor commemorated French names in its institutions; hence we have Bourbon\nCounty, of which Paris is the principal town. We also find a Versailles,\na Louisville, etc. In this last place we built, with the aid of the\nProtestants, the beautiful church of S. Louis, King of France.\n\nHaving the greatest esteem for learned men, they received the French\npriests with generous hospitality, and our bishops are revered by\nall sects. M. Carroll, formerly professor of theology among the\nJesuits, bishop and finally archbishop of Baltimore, was one of the\nmost distinguished men in America, and he was universally beloved and\nrespected. He was consecrated in England the 15th of August, 1790.\nTwo years afterwards he convoked a synod in Baltimore, where he was\nsuccessful in assembling twenty-five priests. His modesty and his piety\nwere as much admired as his learning. Finally, by his urbanity and his\ninexhaustible charity, he won all hearts, even those of the Protestant\nclergy.\n\nHis edifying death, mild and patient in the greatest sufferings, took\nplace the 3d of December, 1815--the day on which the church celebrates\nthe Feast of S. Francis Xavier, the glory of the Jesuits.\n\nHis death caused universal grief in a country where his memory has never\nceased to be venerated. It is incredible how he could have been equal to\nall the tasks he had to accomplish, besides all the mental labor that\nfell to his share. He afterwards obtained from the Holy See a coadjutor,\nM. Neale, like himself an American and an ex-Jesuit. His Diocese embraced\nall the United States; and he was, moreover, administrator of the diocese\nof New Orleans. Our Holy Father, the Pope, has since then been entreated\nto create four new bishoprics--namely, Philadelphia, New York, Boston and\nBardstown.[190]\n\nM. Flaget, a Sulpitian, arrived in America with MM. David and Badin\nin the year 1792, and was appointed to this last-named bishopric. His\nhumility was alarmed. He thought he neither possessed the talent nor the\nother qualifications necessary to fill so high a position; and for two\nyears he persisted in his refusal, but he was finally obliged to submit\nto the express mandate of the Pope, and undertook the task, for which he\nwas evidently destined by divine Providence. He is doubtless the poorest\nprelate of the Christian world, but he is none the less zealous and\ndisinterested.\n\n\u201cBlessed is the rich man that is found without blemish; and that hath not\ngone after gold, nor put his trust in money, nor in treasures. Who is he,\nand we will praise him? for he hath done wonderful things in his life\u201d\n(Ecclesiasticus xxxi. 8, 9).[191]\n\nIn a limited number of years he founded so many institutions, undertook\nso many voyages, underwent so much fatigue, both of mind and body, and\nsucceeded so well in all his projects for extending the kingdom of Jesus\nChrist, that we must attribute his success and the diffusion of religion\nto the special blessing of God which accompanied him unceasingly. M.\nDavid, superior of the seminary, consecrated bishop-coadjutor the 15th\nof August, 1819, co-operated with him in his good works: in the founding\nof the seminary, which has already produced eight or ten priests; in the\nfounding of several convents for the Sisters of S. Vincent de Paul; in\nthe building of the cathedral of Bardstown, etc.[192]\n\nIt is in this little village, situated in the centre of the country, that\nthe episcopal seat has been fixed. The smallest seed becomes a large\ntree, said our Saviour in the Gospel. This diocese embraces six large\nStates--Tennessee, Kentucky, Ohio, Michigan, Indiana, and Illinois.[193]\n\nIn all this country, where the population, the sciences and the arts,\nagriculture and commerce, have in the last twenty years progressed\nwonderfully, fifty years ago could be seen dense forests and limitless\nprairies, inhabited only by wild beasts or scattered Indian tribes. But\nthere are to-day in this diocese twenty-five priests, seven convents, two\nseminaries or colleges, thirty-five churches or chapels,[194] and about\nforty thousand Catholics out of a population of two million inhabitants\nof all denominations.\n\nIn all these States priests and churches are found except in Tennessee,\nwhich, owing to its great distance and other drawbacks, has been visited\nbut four times by the oldest missionary in Kentucky. He gathered\ntogether a little flock at Knoxville, the capital. With regard to this\nplace may these words of the prophet be fulfilled: \u201cI will whistle for\nthem and gather them together; I have redeemed them; and I will multiply\nthem as they were multiplied before. And I will sow them among peoples,\nand from afar they shall remember me.\u201d The bishop has been trying to\nestablish a free school for the poor Catholics who have not made their\nFirst Communion. Half of their time is employed in cultivating the ground\nto defray their expenses, and the other half is devoted to reading,\nwriting, and instructions in Christian doctrine. With fifty such schools\nwe could renovate the entire diocese, and gather into the fold a great\nmany souls which otherwise would be deprived of the means of salvation.\nThus it is evident that what has been done is nothing in comparison\nwith what remains to be done. Our institutions, besides the incidental\nand the daily expenses of the sanctuary, the voyage, etc., cost more\nthan 300,000 francs; and the bishop, who receives but 600 francs of\necclesiastical revenue, owes more than 25,000 for his cathedral, which is\nnot yet finished, much less decorated. Unforeseen events precluded the\npossibility of the subscribers making their payments; and if to-day they\nwere forced to do so according to the rigor of the law, it would be of\nmaterial injury to religion, and would produce the most baneful effect\non the minds and the hearts of both Catholics and Protestants, who are\nalso subscribers. The church in Kentucky owns some land, to be sure; but\nto clear this land, and then to cultivate it, laborers are lacking, and\nconsequently this uncultivated property produces no revenue. The majority\nof the students, both at the seminary and the monastery, pay no board.\nThe missionaries receive no assistance from the state; they are entirely\ndependent on their parishioners, who often do not even defray their\ntravelling expenses, and perquisites are unheard of.\n\nThe spirit of religion obliges us to make a great many sacrifices and to\nendure innumerable privations to avoid being considered avaricious, and\nfrequently it is necessary to make presents. Sometimes they ask us for\nprayer-books or books of controversy, sometimes for catechisms, rosaries,\netc., etc. Moreover, when the necessary expenses for the support of two\nor three hundred persons[195] are calculated and contrasted with our\nlimited resources, that they suffice seems incredible; and the mystery\nthereof can only be solved by referring it to that infinite Providence\nwhich feeds the birds of the air and gives to the lilies of the valley a\nglory more dazzling than that of Solomon.\n\nThis paternal Providence, after having accomplished such wonders, will\nnot abandon us in our present distress. After making use of his ministers\nas means of operation, he will also inspire religious souls with the\ndesire to co-operate in these good works, and crown his gifts in crowning\nthe merits of their charity.\n\nThe writer of this notice was a witness to the greater number of events\nhe relates--\u201cQuod vidimus et audivimus, hoc annuntiamus vobis\u201d (1 Joan.\ni.) After working twenty-five years in this mission, he returned to\nFrance to take a little rest and to solicit aid from his countrymen,\naccording to the instructions of his bishop. Although weakened by a\nserious illness which he had undergone the preceding fall, and which\nnearly exhausted his means, he proposed, together with M. Chabrat, a\nmissionary from the same country, to recross the ocean and undertake\na journey of nearly four hundred miles to reach Kentucky, where his\nservices are still required.\n\nIf some ecclesiastics felt themselves called to accompany him to America,\nthey will doubtless be persuaded from the perusal of this truthful\nnarrative that they will also have to travel the way of the cross,\nwhich we know to be the way to heaven. It will also be expedient that\nthey procure all the books according to the ritual of Rome; theological\nand Biblical works in French, English, and Latin; chalices, ciboriums,\ncrucifixes, vestments and church ornaments, altar pictures--in fact,\neverything relating to divine service. Surely they will be assisted\nthrough the piety of their friends and acquaintances. How many persons in\nFrance possess ecclesiastical or theological works which are not printed\nin America, as also sacred ornaments which are of no use to them; whereas\nthese articles could be employed in so useful and so holy a manner in\nthese new missions, which are in need of everything and possess nothing!\nWe hope through the charity of pious and wealthy souls that they will\ngenerously offer to the service of God this small portion of the gifts\nthey have received from him in abundance. Faith teaches us that he will\nnot allow himself to be outdone in generosity, and what they sacrifice to\nhis glory will be returned a hundred-fold. As for us, our gratitude will\ncause us to recommend our benefactors to the prayers of the missionaries,\nof the religious orders, and of the laity who are thus benefited; and\nwe promise to celebrate a solemn Mass of thanksgiving, to which we will\ninvite all good Christians, to whom we will suggest a general Communion\nto be offered to God for the same intention.\n\n                                                         S. T. BADIN,\n                                                   _American Missionary_.\n\nPARIS, February 7, 1821, Seminary of S. Nicholas, Rue S. Victor.\n\n\n_Extract of a letter from Bishop Flaget to Father Badin._\n\n                                          ST. ETIENNE, February 19, 1820.\n\nBELOVED COLABORER: Probably this letter, written from a place with which\nyou are familiar, and to which you are doubtless attached, will be handed\nyou by Father Chabrat. I earnestly desired to be in Kentucky at the time\nof your departure; that which I have often said to you I repeat to-day--I\nhave always felt strongly inclined to love you; let us love one another\nas brothers.\n\nI will give you none of the diocesan details; Father Chabrat knows them\nas well as I do, and he will be greatly pleased to answer your numerous\nquestions. The departure of this young man, that of Father N\u00e9rinckx,\nand yours cause a great void in my diocese, and leave a burden which\nwould certainly overpower me if God, who has sustained me so far, did\nnot continue to shower his favors upon me. I still feel all the vigor of\nyouth to buckle on my armor. I am to take charge of Father N\u00e9rinckx\u2019s\n_religieuses_, who to-day form quite a little congregation. My coadjutor\nwill give his attention to the senior seminary and to the college, which\nI am to open to-morrow.\n\nMM. D\u00e9rigaud and Coomes direct the junior seminary and the parish of St.\nThomas, and their success astonishes every one. M. Abell is causing the\n\u201cBarrens\u201d to prosper. Thus, my dear friend, will the diocese be managed\nduring your absence, while you, I hope, will make collections for our\npoor parishes, which are in great want. I am going to re-employ your\nbrother, who is as pious and studious as ever, at the senior seminary\nin Bardstown. I earnestly desire to see him a priest, and I am sure\nthat he is sufficiently informed either to direct the children in the\nboys\u2019 school or to take charge of Father N\u00e9rinckx\u2019 _religieuses_. Bishop\nDubourg is endeavoring to have a bishop assigned to New Orleans, another\nto Detroit, and a third to Cincinnati. If he succeeds, I will have less\nextent of country to traverse, and as many opportunities as I now have of\nmaking priests.\n\nThus the prospects of my diocese are daily becoming more promising.\nHasten to return; for God has not bestowed upon you so perfect a\nknowledge of the language and habits of this country to no purpose.\n\nAccept, I beg of you, sentiments of the most sincere friendship.\n\n                                    BENO\u00ceT-JOSEPH, _Bishop of Bardstown_.\n\n\nBLESSED NICHOLAS VON DER FL\u00dcE.\n\nOf the many beautiful views from the Rigi, none seemed so determined to\nimprint itself on our memories during our stay at Kaltbad as that looking\nup the Valley of Sarnen. At whatever hour we wandered to the K\u00e4nzli,\nearly or late, in bright weather or in dull, it was all the same. Somehow\nthe sun was always lighting up the valley; either resting placidly on\nits velvety pastures, shining broadly over its small lake, and making\nit glitter like a brilliant dewdrop amidst the encircling verdure, or,\nat the very least, darting shy gleams across its waters from behind the\nclouds which lowered on all else around. The lake of Zug was much nearer\nto us, lying right beneath one angle of the Rigi; but it had not the\nlike powers of fascination. Moreover, we noticed that exactly in the\nsame degree that Sarnen attracted the sun Zug seemed to repel it. At all\nevents, the lasting remembrance of Zug is dark, bleak, and unfriendly;\nthat of Sarnen, on the contrary, peaceful and sunny. It seemed, too, as\nthough it were tenderly watched over by all its neighbors. Mt. Pilatus\nguards the entrance to it from Lucerne, hills enclose the valley on three\nsides, while above and beyond, as seen from Kaltbad, rise those giants of\nthe Oberland which give such sublimity to these scenes, and enhance their\nbeauty by the constant variety of their aspect.\n\nUndoubtedly the associations connected with Sarnen had something to do\nwith our love for it. In the village of Sachslen, on the borders of its\nlake, Blessed Nicholas von der Fl\u00fce was born and lived, and there his\nremains are now preserved.\n\nAnd here, behind this promontory of the B\u00fcrgenstock, just opposite\nthe K\u00e4nzli, lies Stanz, the capital of Nidwalden--as this division of\nUnterwalden is now called--whither Blessed Nicholas hurried, and, by his\ninfluence with the Assembly, succeeded in saving his country from civil\nwar.\n\nA visit to Sachslen held a special place in the programme sketched out\nfor us by Herr H----. There were some days, too, still to spare before\nthe feast at Einsiedeln on the 14th; so we determined to lose no further\ntime in making our pilgrimage to \u201cBruder Klaus,\u201d as my Weggis guide and\nall the people hereabouts affectionately call him.\n\nIt was easy to trace the route when standing at the K\u00e4nzli, and to\nperceive that, by crossing over to Buochs, we might drive thence to\nSachslen. Dismissing, therefore, all fears of the railway descent from\nour minds, we started by the eleven o\u2019clock train from Kaltbad, which it\ncost us many a pang to leave, with its dear little church, its lovely\nviews, and its bright, invigorating air. Crossing then in the steamer\nfrom Vitznau to Buochs, we speedily engaged carriages to take us to\nSachslen, and to bring us back from thence on the following day.\n\nOur road led through Stanz, the home of Arnold von Winkelried, where we\nlingered long, although determined not to visit the Rathhaus until our\nreturn from the sanctuary of its hero. But we had two statues of Arnold\nto admire--one, in fact, a handsome white marble group commemorating his\nnoble feat at Sempach, and erected by national subscription--to catch\na view of Winkelried\u2019s house in a distant meadow; to see in the church\nstatues of \u201cBruder Klaus\u201d and Konrad Scheuber--who also led a solitary\nlife of holiness in the Engelberg valley close by, and whose highest\nhonor it was to call himself the \u201cDaughter\u2019s Son\u201d of the great hermit--to\nread the tablet in the mortuary chapel in memory of the four hundred\nand fourteen priests, women, and children who had fallen victims to\nthe French soldiery in 1798; and to hear tales of the desolation their\nunbridled vengeance caused all this country. Pretty Stanz! now looking\nso happy, smiling, and prosperous that it is difficult to realize it\never could have been laid in ashes some seventy years ago. No district\nin Switzerland is more fruitful at present; cultivated like a garden,\ndotted over with fine timber, and making a beautiful picture backed by\nthe Engelberg line of mountains stretching away behind.\n\nAn avenue of stately walnut-trees leads to the little port of Stanzstadt,\nand on the way we passed the chapel of Winkelried, where an annual f\u00eate\nis held, and close to which the bodies of eighteen women were found,\nafter the fight in 1798, lying beside those of their fathers, husbands,\nand brothers--so completely had it then become a war _\u00e0 outrance_, in\ndefence of hearths and homes.\n\nFrom Stanzstadt the road turned abruptly westward, at first along\nthe edge of the small lake of Alpnach, the ruins of Rossberg Castle\nperceptible on the opposite shore--the first Austrian stronghold taken by\nthe R\u00fctli confederates on the memorable New Year\u2019s morning of 1308.\n\nThence the hills grew lower and the landscape more pastoral than\nAlpine, until we reached Sarnen, above which formerly rose the castle\nof Landenberg, the famous imperial vogt who put out the eyes of old\nAnderbalben, of the Melchthal, in punishment for his son\u2019s misdemeanors\nwhen the latter evaded his pursuit. This barbarous act was the immediate\ncause of the R\u00fctli uprising; but, like all the others, the castle was\ntaken by surprise, and Landenberg\u2019s life was spared. The terrace where it\nstood is still called the Landenberg, and there the cantonal assembly has\nannually met since 1646. Of this spot it is that Wordsworth speaks in his\ndesultory stanzas:\n\n                            \u201cNe\u2019er shall ye disgrace\n    Your noble birthright, ye that occupy\n    Your council-seats beneath the open sky\n    On Sarnen\u2019s mount; there judge of fit and right,\n    In simple democratic majesty;\n    Soft breezes fanning your rough brows, the might\n    And purity of nature spread before your sight.\u201d\n\nThe panorama thence is said to be magnificent, and it was easy to\nconceive it all-inspiring to a patriotic orator; but the evening had\nclosed in before we crossed the Sarnen bridge, and it was hopeless to\nattempt the ascent thither.\n\nWhilst Mrs. C---- was inquiring about rooms we hastened to a church near\nwhere a bell had been tolling as we entered the town. \u201cOnly a chapel,\u201d\nanswered an old woman; \u201cfor the Blessed Sacrament is not kept there.\u201d But\nthe \u201cchapel\u201d contained the cheering sight of troops of children saying\ntheir night prayers aloud, headed by some of their elders. The inn is a\nmodest, clean establishment, but in any case it would have been dear to\nus, all the rooms being full of pictures of \u201cBruder Klaus\u201d and of every\nincident in his life. Herr H---- had said that \u201cno house in Obwalden\nis without his picture,\u201d and this quick fulfilment of our expectations\nenchanted us. Instantly we stormed the _Kellnerinns_ with questions; but,\nalas! they were Bernese maidens, and, whether from prejudice or stolid\nignorance, they only gave us the old stereotyped answer that \u201cthey were\n\u2018Reformed,\u2019 from the other side of the Bruning pass, and knew nothing,\nnor ever inquired about such matters.\u201d\n\nAccustomed as we had been of late to the large tourist hotels, everything\nseemed preternaturally quiet, when suddenly, late that evening, a deep\nvoice sounded in the distance, advancing steadily onwards. We had\nscarcely time to reflect on this singular intrusion on the peaceful\nvillage when it became evident that it was that medi\u00e6val institution,\n\u201cthe watchman going his rounds,\u201d which none of us ever before had an\nopportunity of becoming acquainted with; and as he came along the streets\nhe distinctly sang:\n\n    \u201cThe clock has struck ten;\n    Put out fire and light,\n    Pray God and his Mother\n    To save and protect us!\u201d\n\nAnd constantly during the night the same appealing voice returned, merely\nchanging the hour as time ran on.\n\nNext morning the sun again befriended us, and Mass was \u201cat the convent\nhard by,\u201d said our hostess--\u201cthe convent of Benedictines, who teach all\nour girls.\u201d And she said truly; for not only did we find their chapel\ncrowded by the villagers, men, women, and children, while the nuns\u2019\nchoir was hidden behind the altar, but High Mass was being sung at that\nearly hour of half-past seven, with exposition of the Blessed Sacrament,\nending by Benediction. Mr. C---- and George visited the Rathhaus and\nits portraits; but we were in feverish haste to get on to Sachslen,\n\u201ctwo miles off,\u201d said a peasant woman we accosted on the road, and who\nalso said she was on her way thither to pray at the shrine of \u201cBruder\nKlaus.\u201d Immediately after breakfast, therefore, taking leave of our\ncomely hostess and of this capital of Obwalden, still so primitively\ngood, although in the close vicinity of the \u201cgreat world,\u201d and feeling\nan increased aversion to the Bernese maidens, whose spirit is unmoved by\nthings supernatural, we drove along the flat borders of the Sarnen lake,\ncaught sight of the Rigi and its K\u00e4nzli, and in less than half an hour\nfound ourselves at Sachslen.\n\nThis village is very small, but at once tells its own tale; for the\nchurch stands, according to the fashion of \u201choly places,\u201d in a large\nopen space surrounded by good-sized houses, that serve as inns and\nresting-places for the crowds of pilgrims who flock here at stated\nperiods. Now all was quiet and the church nearly empty; the Masses\nof the day--unfortunately for us--were long since over. After paying\nour visit to the Blessed Sacrament we wandered through the edifice,\nadmiring its size and beauty, but unable to discover any sign of the\nshrine whose fame had brought us hither. At length George succeeded\nin finding the sacristan, a wrinkled, toothless octogenarian, who, as\nfar as looks went, seemed quite ancient enough to have been himself a\ncontemporary of \u201cBruder Klaus.\u201d His German, too, was so intensely local,\nand consequently, to us, obscure, that we had the utmost difficulty\nin understanding him. But he pointed to the altar in the centre with\nan inscription in golden letters on its black marble frontal. And\ncertainly it was worth looking at; for a more remarkable specimen of\nphonetic spelling is seldom to be found, exactly following the local\ndialect, even in its total disregard of grammar. On the other hand, this\nearnest simplicity in such strange contrast to the refined material that\nperpetuates it is deeply touching and in perfect keeping with everything\nconnected with Blessed Nicholas and this pious people. It ran thus:\n\n    \u201cAllhier Buwet die gebein des Seeligen\n    Bruder Claus von Fl\u00fce--dahero gesetzt da\n    Man die Kirche geb\u00fcwet anno 1679.\u201d[196]\n\nAs soon as the aged sacristan felt satisfied that we had read the lines,\nwithout another word he drew back the picture over the altar as he\nmight a curtain, and disclosed \u201cBruder Klaus\u201d himself confronting us!\nNever shall I forget the thrilling sensation of beholding the hermit\u2019s\nskeleton in kneeling posture right above the tabernacle and facing the\ncongregation, clothed in his coarse habit, his hands clasped in prayer,\nthe cavity of his eyes filled by two large emeralds, his nose by one\nenormous long, yellow topaz, while in the centre of the ribs, near\nhis heart, hung a large jewelled cross, and round his neck a number\nof military orders. It was startling! We had expected from the word\n\u201cgesetzt\u201d to find him reposing in a shrine, and should have preferred, it\nmust be confessed, to have seen more refinement and delicacy shown in\nthe use of those precious stones as ornamentation. But were they not the\nprecious stones of simple, firm faith and true love of God? This peasant\npopulation never had any pretension to \u201chigh art or learning.\u201d Blessed\nNicholas himself had naught but the refinement of that exalted piety\nwhich in itself transcends even the highest flights of human culture, and\nis, after all, the \u201cone thing needful.\u201d With such thoughts to guide us\nwe could only admire and respect the desire, albeit crudely expressed,\nto show reverence to one whose own simple nature despised those \u201cearthly\ntreasures.\u201d His countrymen, however, had that deep \u201cart and learning\u201d\nwhich taught them to appreciate Blessed Nicholas\u2019 devotion to the\nBlessed Sacrament; for they could think of no resting-place more dear\nto him than that close to the dwelling of his Lord. Tender piety, too,\nprompted the offerings; but no votive tablets recorded their stories,\nas in the little church at Kaltbad, and we longed in vain to know their\nhistories. The orders alone, we discovered, had been won in different\ncountries by his descendants, and have been offered up by them, as well\nas various swords and trophies by other Unterwaldeners, in thanksgiving\nfor the prayers and protection of the saintly hermit. A striking example\nof the enduring value of a noble, self-denying, God-fearing character\nit is thus to see the aid of this simple peasant still sought and the\ninfluence of his memory so powerful on the minds and better natures even\nof this material age. It was impossible not to pray that he may now more\nthan ever watch over his beloved fellow-countrymen, and obtain for them\nthat steadfastness in their faith and principles which they so sorely\nneed during the terrible struggle they are now passing through. There is\nlittle else belonging to Blessed Nicholas to be seen--for was he not a\nhermit, and the poorest of saints?--but in a case near the wall the old\nclerk displayed his rosary and another habit, which we liked to fancy\nmight have been made from the piece of stuff presented to him by the town\nof Freyburg after his successful intervention at the diet of Stanz.\n\nOur thoughts now turned to his hermitage at Ranft, but only to meet with\nsevere disappointment. It was too far for \u201cladies to walk,\u201d said every\none, and no horses could be had without previous orders, of which no one\nhad once thought. Had we only slept here, instead of stopping at Sarnen,\nall would have been easy, and we should, moreover, have been able to have\nheard Mass at the shrine. The \u201cEngel\u201d of Sachslen was larger than, though\nscarcely so inviting as, the \u201cGolden Eagle\u201d of Sarnen, yet he would at\nleast have watched over our spiritual interests; and \u201cwhen one undertakes\na pilgrimage,\u201d exclaimed George, \u201cladies should despise comforts.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt was Herr H----\u2019s plan,\u201d retorted Caroline, determined that we should\nnot be blamed, \u201cand _we_ should not be ungrateful; for remember that he\nhad also to think of us Protestants! All we can now do is to warn other\npilgrims, and advise them to come on here straight.\u201d\n\nIt was provoking beyond measure to be thus deprived by mismanagement of\nthis point in our visit. But Mr. C---- and George were determined not\nto give it up; they would go on foot, and report all to us, if only\nwe would wait patiently for a few hours. Where was the use of further\ngrumbling? Like good children, we cried out, \u201cWhat can\u2019t be cured must be\nendured,\u201d and, summoning all the piety we could command to our aid, we\noffered up the disappointment in the spirit of true pilgrims in honor of\n\u201cBruder Klaus,\u201d and bade our friends \u201cGod speed\u201d and depart.\n\nAnna and the two young ladies, soon discovering pretty points of\nview, settled themselves to sketch, while Mrs. C---- and I took a\nramble through the village. Though without any pretension to an Alpine\ncharacter, none is more genuinely Swiss than Sachslen. Leaving the\nsquare, we wandered among the detached houses, scattered here and there\nin the most capricious manner on the slope of a hill that rises gently\nbehind, and which, dotted with timber throughout its fresh pastures,\nforms a most beautiful background to the picture. The wood-work,\ndelicately, nay elaborately, carved, the windows glazed in many instances\nwith bull\u2019s-eye glass, the low rooms with heavy cross-beams, are all many\ncenturies old, perhaps from the very days of Blessed Nicholas; but beyond\nall doubt the \u201cHoly Cross,\u201d \u201cEngel,\u201d and other hostelries, of which the\nplace is chiefly composed, owe their origin to his memory. Photographs\nof the church and the hermitage hung in the window of the \u201clibrary\u201d of\nthe village, which was opened for us, after some delay, by an active,\ntidy matron. \u201cThese are quiet days and few purchasers,\u201d she said in an\napologetic tone. \u201cBut the ladies would find it very different on feast\ndays; on the 21st of March above all. Then ten and twelve thousand\npeople often come from all quarters; every house far and near is full,\nstalls are erected in the square, and the church is crowded from morning\ntill night. This is the _Litany_ chanted during the processions,\u201d she\nadded, handing us a small book, which also contained \u201cPrayers by Brother\nKlaus,\u201d collected from old writings by a priest. Nothing could be more\nbeautiful or simple than the latter; but the _Litany_ in particular\nwas a pre-eminently striking composition, every sentence showing that\nremarkable union of patriotism and piety which runs through the whole\nbeing of every Swiss Catholic. It begins by invoking the hermit, simply\nas \u201cBlessed Brother Klaus,\u201d to \u201cPray for us,\u201d and, going on through every\nphase of his life, implores his intercession in a more emphatic manner\nwherever his love of country or of justice had been most conspicuous.\nAnd here it must be remembered that Blessed Nicholas has as yet only\nbeen beatified. Hence those who style him \u201csaint\u201d transgress the proper\nlimits, which are never forgotten by the Swiss themselves. For this\nreason it is that in no prayer is he ever addressed except as \u201cBlessed\nNicholas,\u201d and in popular parlance ranks no higher than their \u201cdear\nBruder Klaus.\u201d But that he may some day be canonized is the fond hope of\nevery Swiss Catholic, and one, it is said, which can be justified by many\nmiracles.\n\nMrs. C---- and I carried off the _Litany_, etc., and, sitting down on a\nbench near the church, drew out other books we had with us, determined to\nrefresh our memories regarding this great servant of our Lord.\n\nOf these, two small documents, written during his lifetime, are the most\ninteresting. One is a _Memoir_ by John von Waldheim, a gentleman from\nHalle in Germany, giving an account of his visit to Brother Nicholas\nin February, 1474, and found in the Wolfenb\u00fcttel Library; the other\na similar report of his pilgrimage to the Hermit of Ranft, addressed\nto the clergy and magistrates of the town of Nuremberg, by Albert von\nBonstetten, canon of Einsiedeln, whom the historian, J. von M\u00fcller, calls\n\u201cthe most learned Swiss of his age,\u201d and found in the archives of the\ntown of Nuremberg in 1861, and wherein he states that, \u201cas so many fables\nhad been circulated about the hermit, he felt convinced they would be\nglad to know what he had himself seen.\u201d Other contemporaries also allude\nto their visits; but these two, though short, bear such internal evidence\nof truth in the quaint freshness of their style and language, place\nus so completely face to face with all concerned, give such a picture\nof Blessed Nicholas\u2019 humility and unsophisticated nature, and such an\ninsight into the habits of thought of that period, that no others equal\nthem, and we can only regret that space does not permit of more than\nmerely a passing quotation.\n\nAll authorities agree that Blessed Nicholas was born in this then obscure\nhamlet on March 21, 1417. Zschokke, however, alone mentions that his\nfamily name was L\u00f6wenbrugger--a fact ignored by others, so completely\nhad \u201cVon der Fl\u00fce,\u201d or \u201cof the Rocks,\u201d become his own, even during his\nlifetime. Yet all his biographers begin by explaining that this cognomen\n\u201ccame from his living at the rocks of Ranft.\u201d Bonstetten also na\u00efvely\nasks \u201chow any inhabitant of this region can avoid coming into the world\nexcept under some one rock or another.\u201d His parents were very poor,\nand Nicholas labored hard, in the fields especially, from his tenderest\nyears. Grown to manhood, he married young, had ten children, and became\ndistinguished above his fellows, in his public and private capacity, as\n\u201ca model son, husband, father, and citizen.\u201d He even served as soldier,\nlike others, in the Thurgau war, where he was equally noted for deeds\nof valor and for compassion towards the sick and wounded. So high was\nhis reputation amongst his neighbors that they several times elected\nhim Landamman and resorted to him as arbitrator in their disputes.\n\u201cThe virtues he displayed to all around him,\u201d writes Bonstetten, \u201cwere\nquite marvellous. For a long time he continued to lead this honorable\nexistence, considerate, affectionate, true to every one, importunate to\nnone.\u201d At length a yearning for greater perfection became stronger than\nall else, and at fifty years of age he determined to seek for closer\nunion with his Lord. Several of his children were already married and\nsettled in the neighborhood. To those that remained and to his wife he\nhanded over the house that he had built and the fields he had cultivated\nfrom early youth upwards, and, taking leave of his family and of all that\nhe held most dear, he left his home for ever. Von Waldheim states that he\nat first intended merely to wander as a pilgrim from one holy place to\nanother, but that, \u201con reaching Basel, he had a revelation, which made\nhim choose a hermit\u2019s life in preference, and in consequence of which he\nturned back to Unterwalden and to his own house. He did not, however,\nallow himself to be seen by wife, children, or any one, but, passing the\nnight in his stables, he started again at dawn, penetrated for about a\nquarter of a mile into the forest behind Sachslen, gathered some branches\nof trees, roofed them with leaves, and there took up his abode.\u201d At all\nevents, it was in this spot, known as \u201cthe solitude of Ranft,\u201d at the\nopening of the Melchthal, that he passed the remaining twenty years of\nhis saintly life.\n\nBut although _he_ had withdrawn from the world, that world soon followed\nhim. Before long the fame of his sanctity spread abroad; above all,\nrumors were circulated that he never tasted earthly food, and that\nhis life was sustained solely by the Blessed Eucharist, which some\nauthorities say he received once a month, others on every Friday. This\ncelestial favor, however, was at first the cause of great suffering to\nBlessed Nicholas. Calumnies were heaped upon him, insults offered. Still,\nhe remained impassive, taking no heed of men. Some would not doubt him.\n\u201cWhy should they suppose that a man who had so long lived amongst them,\nwhose honor had been so well tried and recognized, and who had abandoned\nthe world merely to lead a hard life in the desert, would now try to\ndeceive them?\u201d But others declared that he only wanted to impose on the\nvulgar, and that he had food brought to him secretly. \u201cWhat did the\nlandamman and elders do,\u201d says Bonstetten, \u201cin order to prevent their\nbeing accused of playing the part of dupes? They selected trusty men,\nmade them take an oath to speak the truth, and placed them as guards\nround the hermitage, to watch whether food was brought to Nicholas from\nany quarter, or whether he procured any for himself.\u201d For a whole month\nthis severe surveillance was maintained; but in the end it only proved in\na most convincing manner that the hermit neither ate nor drank anything\nexcept that nourishment with which our Lord himself provided him. Two\nProtestant writers, J. von M\u00fcller and Bullinger, give details of this\ninquiry, of which they raise no doubt; and some years after it took\nplace, during the lifetime of Blessed Nicholas, the following entry was\nmade in the public archives of Sachslen:\n\n    \u201cBe it known to all Christians, that in the year 1417 was\n    born at Sachslen, Nicholas von der Fl\u00fce; that, brought up in\n    the same parish, he quitted father, mother, brother, wife,\n    and children to come to live in the solitude called Ranft;\n    that there he has been sustained by the aid of God, without\n    taking any food, for the last eighteen years, enjoying all his\n    faculties at this moment of our writing, and leading a most\n    holy life. This we have ourselves seen, and this we here affirm\n    in all truth. Let us, then, pray the Lord to give him eternal\n    life whenever he shall deign to call him from this world.\u201d\n\nAs a natural consequence of this investigation, a strong reaction at once\noccurred. The villagers built him a chapel with a cell adjoining, and\nsoon the Bishop of Constance came to consecrate it.\n\nBut the bishop was also determined to test the fact of his total\nabstinence, and ordered him to eat in his presence. Various are the\nversions concerning this event, the majority asserting that Blessed\nNicholas was seized with convulsions the instant he swallowed the\nfirst mouthful. But J. von Waldheim, who seems to have experienced no\ndifficulty in asking direct questions, gives us the hermit\u2019s own words on\nthe subject, brimful of truthfulness and humility. After stating that\nhe had been entertaining Nicholas by an account of his own pilgrimages\nto holy places, and amongst others to the sanctuary of Blessed Mary\nMagdalen, in whose honor the Ranft chapel was dedicated, and having\nbrought tears into the eyes of the venerable hermit by the beautiful\nlegends regarding her which he told him, Waldheim proceeds:\n\n    \u201cI said: \u2018Dear Brother Nicholas! in my own country, as well as\n    here, I have heard it maintained that you have neither eaten\n    nor drunk anything for many years past. What may I believe?\u2019\n    \u2018God knows it!\u2019 he answered, and then continued: \u2018Certain folk\n    asserted that the life I lead proceeds not from God, but from\n    the evil spirit. In consequence my Lord the Bishop of Constance\n    blessed three pieces of bread and a drop of wine, and then\n    presented them to me. If I could eat or drink, he thought I\n    should be justified; if not, there could no longer be any doubt\n    that I was under the influence of the devil. Then my Lord the\n    Bishop of Constance asked me what thing I considered the most\n    estimable and meritorious in Christianity. \u2018Holy obedience,\u2019 I\n    answered. Then he replied: \u2018If obedience be the most estimable\n    and meritorious thing, then I command you, in the name of\n    that holy virtue, to eat these three pieces of bread and to\n    drink this wine.\u2019 I besought my lord to dispense me from this,\n    because this act would grieve me to excess. I implored him\n    several times, but he continued inflexible, and I was obliged\n    to obey, to eat and to drink.\u2019 I then asked Brother Nicholas,\u201d\n    continued Waldheim: \u2018And since that time you have neither eaten\n    nor drunk any thing?\u2019 But I could extract no other answer from\n    him save the three words, \u2018God knows it.\u2019\u201d\n\nNumberless were the reports concerning his mysterious ways. He often went\nto Einsiedeln, yet it was said that no one ever met him on the road!\n\n\u201cHow does he get there?\u201d asks Waldheim. \u201cGod alone knows.\u201d His\nappearance, too, was said to be unearthly.\n\nWaldheim had heard, too, that his body was emaciated and devoid of\nnatural warmth, his hands icy, and his aspect like that of a corpse. He\nlays particular stress, therefore, on the fact that Nicholas possessed a\nnatural bodily heat, like any other man, \u201cin his hands especially, which\nI and my valet Kunz touched several times. His complexion was neither\nyellow nor pale, but that of one in excellent health; his humor pleasant,\nhis conversation, acts, and gestures those of an affable, communicative,\nsociable, gay being looking at every thing from the bright side. His hair\nis brown, his features regular, his skin good, his face thin, his figure\nstraight and slight, his German agreeable to listen to.\u201d\n\nA few years later P\u00e8re Bonstetten heightens this picture by a minuteness\nthat rivals the _signalements_ of old-fashioned passports. He describes\nBrother Nicholas as being \u201cof fine stature, extremely thin, and of a\nbrown complexion, covered with freckles; his dark hair tinged with gray,\nand, though not abundant, falling in disorder on his shoulders; his beard\nin like manner, and about an inch long; his eyes not remarkable, except\nthat the white is in due proportion; his teeth white and regular; and his\nnose in harmony with the rest of his face.\u201d\n\nAnd as we read this clear description, Mrs. C---- and I could not\nhelp regretting that posterity had not been satisfied with such a\nrecollection, without having endeavored by emeralds and precious stones\nto fill up the voids which nature had since created; but when the motives\nhad been so pure and loving, it was not for us to find fault with the\nmanner of their reverence, nor do more than admire its earnestness and\nsimplicity.\n\nThere seems to have been a certain difficulty in obtaining admittance\nto the hermit; for even P\u00e8re Bonstetten had to be introduced by the\nlandamman, and Von Waldheim took with him the Cur\u00e9 of Kerns. Brother\nNicholas, it must be remembered, though an anchorite, was still not\nordained; hence a priest was to him always a welcome visitor. His family,\ntoo, seem at all times to have had free access to him. Both writers\ncommenced their visits by hearing Mass in his little chapel, where\nBrother Nicholas knelt behind a grating; but after their introduction he\nlet them into his adjoining cell. Here he impressed them deeply by his\nhumility, politeness, and gentleness, and both remark his sweet-toned\nvoice and his kindliness in shaking hands with every one, \u201cnot forgetting\na single person.\u201d P\u00e8re Bonstetten, more than Waldheim, seems to have\nretained his self-possession; for he says: \u201cI kept my eyes wide open,\nlooking right and left around the room, attentively considering\neverything. The cell was not half warm. It had two small windows, but no\nsleeping place, unless a raised portion at one end may be used for that\npurpose.\u201d Nor could he see a table, nor furniture of any kind, nor sign\neven of a mattress on which this servant of God could ever repose. But\nhe dwells with emphasis on his simplicity and truthfulness, saying that\nhe answered his many questions, \u201cnot in the fashion of a hypocrite, but\nsimply as became an unlettered man.\u201d\n\nAnd like these visitors came others from every quarter to see and\nconsult him--magistrates to ask the advice of one who, in the words\nof the _Litany_, had been like that \u201cjust judge whose decisions were\naltogether dictated by conscience and justice,\u201d and that \u201cwise statesman\nwho administered his offices solely for the honor of God and the good\nof his fellow-men\u201d; soldiers to see the \u201cbrave warrior who took up\narms for God and fatherland, and was a model of virtue to the army\u201d;\nthose in affliction to beg the prayers of that \u201cmost perfect follower\nof Jesus, who, by meditation on the life and sufferings of our Lord,\nhad been so like unto him\u201d; sinners to implore that \u201cpious hermit, who\nleft the world from desire of greater perfection,\u201d to teach them how to\nsubdue their passions. For all and each he had some word of comfort and\nexhortation. One of these pilgrims was so captivated by his heavenly\nadmonitions that he resolved to remain near Blessed Nicholas and lead the\nsame life. He built himself a chapel and cell close by, and soon became\nremarkable for his sanctity; but his antecedents are veiled in mystery,\nand he has descended to posterity simply as \u201cBrother Ulrich, once a\nBavarian gentleman.\u201d Blessed Nicholas, however, evidently held him in\nhigh regard; for, after praising him warmly, he urged both Waldheim and\nP\u00e8re Bonstetten to visit him before leaving Ranft. The na\u00efve Waldheim\ntakes no pains to conceal that he was prejudiced against poor Ulrich by\nreason of the mystery surrounding him; although \u201che is educated,\u201d he\nsays,\u201cwhereas Brother Nicholas is a simple layman who does not know how\nto read.\u201d The learned monk of Einsiedeln, on the contrary, is at once\nprepossessed in his favor by the tincture of culture which he quickly\ndetects. He notes that Ulrich \u201ctalks more and shows less dislike for the\nsociety of men than Brother Nicholas. No doubt,\u201d he adds, \u201cbecause he is\nmore instructed. He is somewhat of a Latin scholar. At the same time, his\nbooks are in German. He showed them to me. I think that I perceived the\n_Gospels_ and the _Lives of the Fathers_ translated into German\u201d--a fact\nwhich we may further note as a remarkable proof that such translations\nof the Gospels into the vernacular, mentioned thus incidentally by P\u00e8re\nBonstetten, were common before the days of printing, in the very midst of\nthe so-called \u201cdark ages.\u201d\n\nAmongst the many traits for which Blessed Nicholas was distinguished,\nP\u00e8re Bonstetten records that conformity to the will of God and love of\npeace were pre-eminent. \u201cHe preaches submission and peace--that peace\nwhich he never ceases to recommend to the confederates.\u201d And a time was\ncoming when all his power and influence would be needed to preserve it.\nSome years after these two accounts were written, and while Blessed\nNicholas and Brother Ulrich were praying and fasting in their \u201csolitude\nat Ranft,\u201d great deeds were being done in other parts of Switzerland.\nThe battles of Grandson and Morat were fought and won, Charles the Bold\ndriven back into Burgundy, and the rich spoils of his army became the\nproperty of the Swiss. But what union and heroism had gained victory\nand prosperity well-nigh destroyed. Soleure and Freyburg, in virtue of\ntheir hard fighting, claimed admission into the confederacy, which claim\nthe older states disdainfully rejected; while the enormous Burgundian\nbooty likewise became a fruitful source of discord. Numerous diets were\nheld, without avail, for the settlement of these questions, each only\nincreasing the trouble. At length a diet assembled at Stanz purposely\nin order to come to a final decision; but the disputes reached such a\npitch that the deputies were about to separate, although the return to\ntheir homes would have been the signal for civil war. Blessed Nicholas,\nthough so near, knew nothing of these proceedings until one morning,\nwhen one of his oldest and most esteemed friends unexpectedly arrived\nat the hermitage. It was the cur\u00e9 of Stanz; a worthy priest and a\ntrue patriot, who, in despair at the state of affairs, and mindful of\nNicholas\u2019 patriotism and love of peace, came to implore his help. Without\nan instant\u2019s delay the hermit took up his staff, walked across the paths\nhe knew so well, and marched straight into the hall at Stanz where the\ndeputies were assembled. Zschokke, the Protestant writer, thus describes\nthe scene:\n\n    \u201cAll with one accord rose from their seats as they beheld in\n    their midst this old man of emaciated aspect, yet full of\n    youthful vigor, and deeply venerated by every one. He spoke\n    to them with the dignity of a messenger from heaven, and in\n    the name of that God who had given so many victories to them\n    and to their fathers, he preached peace and concord. \u2018You have\n    become strong,\u2019 he said, \u2018through the might of united arms.\n    Will you now separate them for the sake of miserable booty?\n    Never let surrounding countries hear of this! Ye towns! do not\n    grieve the older confederates by insisting on the rights of\n    citizens. Rural cantons! remember that Soleure and Freyburg\n    have fought hard beside you, and receive them into fellowship.\n    Confederates! take care, on the other hand, not to enlarge your\n    boundaries unduly! Avoid all transactions with foreigners!\n    Beware of divisions! Far be it from you ever to prefer money\n    to the fatherland.\u2019 This and much more did Nicholas von der\n    Fl\u00fce say, and all hearts were so deeply touched, so stirred, by\n    the words of the mighty hermit, that in one single hour every\n    disputed point was settled. Soleure and Freyburg were that\n    day admitted into the confederacy; old treaties and compacts\n    were renewed; and at the suggestion of the pious Nicholas it\n    was decided that in future all conquered territory should be\n    distributed amongst the cantons, but booty divided amongst\n    individuals! This done,\u201d continues Zschokke, \u201cthe hermit\n    returned to his wilderness, each deputy to his canton. Joy\n    abounded everywhere. From all the church-towers of the land\n    festive peals announced the glad tidings, from the furthest\n    Alps even unto the Jura.\u201d\n\nThe cantons vied with each other in the effort to express their gratitude\nto Blessed Nicholas. But in vain; he would take nothing from them except\na few ornaments for his small chapel. Freyburg alone was favored by his\nacceptance of a piece of stuff to repair his worn-out habit, which was\nthen in shreds; and this it was which we liked to think identical with\nthe relic shown to us by the old sacristan in the church at Sachslen.\nBern, in a spirit widely different from that of its degenerate posterity,\npresented him with a chalice, which elicited from him a letter full of\npatriotism and tender Christian feeling: \u201cBe careful,\u201d he writes in\nanswer, \u201cto maintain peace and concord amongst you; for you know how\nacceptable this is to Him from whom all good proceeds. He who leads a\ngodly life always preserves peace; nay, more, God is that sovereign\npeace in whom all can repose. Protect the widows and orphans, as you\nhave hitherto done. If you prosper in this world, return thanks to God,\nand pray that he may grant you a continuance of the same happiness in\nthe next. Repress public vice and be just to all. Deeply imprint in your\nhearts the remembrance of the Passion of our Lord Jesus Christ. It will\nconsole and strengthen you in the hour of adversity.\u201d Then, as if in\nprophetic strain to the proud town, he adds: \u201cMany people in our day,\ntempted by the devil, are troubled with doubts on faith. But why have any\ndoubts? The faith is the same to-day that it ever has been.\u201d\n\nWhat wonder, after all this, that, in spite of himself, Blessed Nicholas\nbecame the arbiter of Switzerland during the few remaining years of his\nlife? Every dispute was referred to him, and, as one writer adds, \u201cIn\nthat solitude, where he thought only of serving God, by the simple fact\nof his sanctity he became of all his compatriots the most pleasing to God\nand the most useful to his neighbor.\u201d At length the holy hermit lay down\non the bare ground, which had so long been his couch, and, full of years\nand honor, he \u201cfell asleep in the Lord\u201d on the 21st of March, 1487--on\nthe very day that he had fulfilled seventy years of his most spotless and\nsaintly life.\n\nWe had just reached this point, when, looking up, we beheld Mr. C----\nand George advancing and exclaiming: \u201cSuch a pity you did not come--such\na pity!\u201d Breathlessly they told us that the distance had proved\ntrifling; they found horses, too, on the way, and everything had been\ndeeply interesting. The road had passed near \u201cBruder Klaus\u2019\u201d fields,\ncrossed the rushing stream mentioned by Von Waldheim; and not only had\nthey visited the chapel and cell of Blessed Nicholas, but also that of\nBrother Ulrich, exactly as described by the two medi\u00e6val pilgrims. The\nstone used by Blessed Nicholas as his pillow is there preserved; both\nplaces, kept in excellent repair and attended by a priest who resides\non the spot, are much frequented and full of votive offerings of various\nkinds. At once it became a question of our starting thither, even at\nthat advanced hour. Had Anna and I been alone, we should have upset all\nprevious arrangements for this purpose; but charity and forbearance\nare the virtues most needed and most frequently brought into play when\ntravelling with a large party. Smothering our annoyance, therefore, a\nsecond time, as best we could, and making a mental resolve to return\nsome future day and see with our own eyes what our friends so vividly\ndescribed, we adjourned to the Engel, and did full justice to the meal\nwhich its pleasant-faced hostess had prepared for us. In another hour we\nwere on the road back to Stanz, but this time across the hills. Kerns,\nnow speaking to our minds of Von Waldheim and P\u00e8re Bonstetten, was first\npassed, succeeded before long by St. Jacob and its plain, the scene of\nthe terrible battle with the French in 1798; and in two and a half hours\nthe comfortable cottages of Nidwalden had gradually developed into, and\nterminated in, the pretty houses of its capital, Stanz. Here we now\nhalted, in order to repair our omission of yesterday by a visit to the\nRathhaus. It was opened for us after some delay by a bluff Nidwaldener,\nwhose German was as unintelligible as that of the Sachslen clerk. But,\nin like manner, he supplied the defect by pointing to two curious and\nvery ancient paintings which hung in the entrance lobby, one representing\nBlessed Nicholas taking leave of his wife and family before he went to\nRanft, the other his appearance at the diet here. The deputies in the\npainting have all risen, whilst the emaciated hermit is addressing them\nboldly and earnestly. As we proceeded into the hall close by, it required\nno stretch of imagination to fancy that the scene had but just occurred\nin that spot, so exactly is the room of the same shape, the chairs and\ntable of the same pattern, and all placed in the same position as in the\nold picture. Though not the same building, one may well believe that\nthe present is only a reproduction of the former town-hall, simple and\nunpretending as it is, and yet invested with such deep interest. Three\nsides of the hall are hung with portraits of the landammans since 1521,\nand the fourth is decorated by various banners won on different patriotic\noccasions. Of these, we notice one that was taken at the battle of\nKappel, where Zwingle met his death; another sent to the Unterwaldeners\nby Pope Julius II.; and a third recently presented by Zschokke, a native\nof these parts, representing William Tell shooting the apple off his\nson\u2019s head--thus giving the sanction of this grave and graphic historian\nto the story we all so much love. Long did we linger in the hall, full\nof the day\u2019s impressions; but the light was waning, and it was necessary\nto depart. Ere we reached Buochs the sun had set; it was dark when the\nsteamer came up to the quay; and night had closed when we arrived at\nBrunnen and entered the brilliantly-lighted hall of the Walst\u00e4tter Hof.\n\n\nTHE ASSUMPTION.\n\n    Crown her with flowers! She is the queen of flowers:\n    Roses for royalty and mignonette\n    For sweet humility, and lilies wet\n    With morning dew for holy purity.\n    Crown her with stars! She is the queen of stars:\n    They sparkle round her maiden path in showers\n    And stretch their beams of light in golden bars,\n    Making a pavement for her majesty.\n    Crown her with prayers! She is the queen of prayer:\n    With eager hands she gathers every one,\n    Wreathing them into garlands for her Son,\n    Holding them close with fond, maternal care:\n    Sweet flower--first planet in the realms above!\n    Crown her with love! She is the queen of love.\n\n\nTHE SCIENTIFIC GOBLIN.\n\nBy one of those freaks of fortune rare even in fairyland, the small\npeople known as the Odomites had, in order to escape being devoured by\na strolling giant named Googloom, made him their king. This ogre was of\nso wonderful an ugliness that babes died at the sight of him, and men\nand maids had gone into convulsions of merriment; but the majority of\nthe Odomites, blessed with a wholesome fear, dared no more than laugh\nin their sleeves at bare memory of his face, avoiding as much as they\ncould to see him. However, to make sure that all his people were as\nsober as himself, King Googloom issued an edict defining laughter as\ntreason, under any pretext to be punished with death by slow torture.\nIn cases of young and pretty maids this sentence was varied by the fact\nthat the giant himself ate them up. Yet, spite of the terrors of his\ndecree, hundreds of his subjects perished for want of self-control; and\none man, whose fate became renowned as that of a voluntary martyr to free\nexpression, died laughing involuntarily, notwithstanding his tortures,\nthe giant Googloom being a witness of his execution.\n\nWhen the realm of Odom was thus rid of all rebellion in the shape\nof quips, jokes, pranks, tricks, antics, capers, smiles, laughs,\ncaricatures, chuckles, grimaces, Googloom yawned and rolled his eyes in a\nmanner fearful to see, and, leaving his throne, made a tour through his\ndominions. Not a soul dared so much as smile in obeisance to him. Though\nhe made his ugliest faces, to such a degree that the passing ravens were\nscared, not a single Odomite lifted up his head to grin for a moment.\nOver all the land reigned the shadow of funlessness. Googloom had become\na dreadful chimera, a nightmare. Hardly knowing it, his people grew lean\nand pined away.\n\nGoogloom himself began to be weary of the prevailing dulness, even\nwhile he boasted that the land was never so sober and its population so\norderly. \u201cWhen will the old times return,\u201d asked his sages of themselves,\n\u201cwhen the land laughed and grew fat?\u201d Googloom eyed with contempt the\nbones of the children that were served up at his banquets; and one day,\nseeing that the leanness of his people had extended to their crops, and\nyet unwilling to alter his decrees, mockingly proclaimed that anybody who\ncould make him laugh at his own expense, or make anybody else laugh on\nthe same terms, should have the privilege of laughing whenever he pleased.\n\nThere was at this time living in one of the mountains of Odom a famous\ngoblin named Gigag. His exceeding knowledge and invention, assisted\nby good-nature, had made him famous in the country round about; and\nnotwithstanding the prejudices of some of the Od people, he was permitted\nto benefit them in various ways. For instance, he made them a stove which\ngave them both heat and light; an instrument that produced exquisite\nmelodies whether you could play it or not; an accordeon that invented\ntunes of its own accord, for the help of composers; a portable bridge\nto be flung over chasms at pleasure; a drink that gave men\u2019s eyes the\npower of microscopes, and another that inspired them with the capacity\nof telescopes; a fertilizer that brought up crops in seven days with\ncare; a flying-machine to save all who laughed; and a pill to cure\nheadache, heartache, rheumatism, dropsy, palsy, dyspepsia, epilepsy,\nconsumption--everything short of death itself--and to cause lost hair,\neyes, teeth, legs, and arms to grow again. There was also rumor that the\ngoblin Gigag had tunnelled the whole kingdom through, and that goblin\nsteeds and people could now travel at will an underground thoroughfare.\nBut, for all these things, the Odomites were no better than before. Their\ntaste in music was bad; they were blind as bats to their interests;\nthey tumbled over precipices; they neglected their crops, and were too\nstupid to fly, if not too dull to laugh; and headaches, heartaches,\nand palsies were much the same as ever, because they disliked to take\na pill that was not sugar-coated. In the end the scientific Gigag was\nthought to be a goblin of genius--one of those fine spirits who are\nalways doing magnificent things to no purpose. Had he relied upon the\neffect of his mechanical or chemical exploits to make his way in the\nworld, the well-meaning goblin would certainly have made a mistake. What,\nthen, was the secret of that extraordinary power which the goblin Gigag\nexercised over the minds of those who came in contact with him? It was\nhis expression.\n\nAll the variety of which the goblin countenance is susceptible seemed to\nbe concentrated in that of Gigag. But its peculiarity was this: that his\neyes grew piercing and dazzling at will, while his teeth enlarged, his\nmouth curved, and his nose elongated and turned at pleasure. It may well\nbe supposed that no Odomite could resist a smile or survive the scorn of\na countenance so effective; and we can only ascribe it to Gigag\u2019s known\nforbearance that the so-called anticachination laws of Googloom were not\na thousand times violated. But patience has its bounds. The national\ndulness which made Googloom yawn and sneer made Gigag almost swear. The\nreigning condition must be put an end to, or science itself would be\npowerless at length to amuse or to cure. Accordingly, he sped through his\nunderground road, and came up at court by a secret path. Wearing a long,\nconical hat and a fanciful jacket, with doublet and hose, and elongating\nhis features while he stretched himself to his full height, he stepped\ninto the presence of the king, knocking down by the way a few insolent\nattendants who had excited his gaze. Bristling the few hairs of his upper\nlip, which resembled the mustache of Grimalkin, and bowing with the most\nobsequious of smiles, the goblin Gigag stood before the giant Googloom.\n\nNever had that ogre seen a figure at once so lean and long, and a face\nso bright and cunning. He would have ordered it at once to his darkest\ndungeons, were it not for an unaccountable fascination which forced him\nto listen to Gigag while he proposed not only to make Googloom laugh at\nhis own expense, but to make everybody else laugh at him on the same\nterms, and to solve the problem of perpetual motion by making the land\nof Odom merry ever afterwards. \u201cI presume,\u201d said he, \u201cyou have heard the\nstory of the pig\u2019s fiddle\u201d; and he proceeded to tell a tale which for\nwit and fun would have made a thousand unicorns die laughing. But on\nthe giant it had either no effect at all or had only raised his spirits\nto the point of being serious. Gigag clearly saw that he had failed by\ntrusting to the merits of his story instead of using his great weapon of\nexpression. \u201cThis is no ordinary case,\u201d said the goblin to himself. \u201cThe\nproblem is to make an immense creature laugh who has nothing of the sort\nin him. Perhaps the best thing to do is to torture him till he laughs in\ndespair.\u201d Spite of the giant\u2019s disposition to put his visitor at once to\nthe torture, he agreed that the accomplished goblin should call next day,\nand make him laugh, or else die by slow boiling. This the goblin heard\nwith a mixture of scorn and amusement, curling his nose and showing his\nteeth in an aristocratic manner.\n\nAs the cunning Gigag left the king\u2019s chamber to go to his quarters in\na corner of the great palace, he took good care to scatter about two\nscientifically-prepared powders, one of which dissolved in the air,\nproducing sleep, and the other by a similar change entered the nostrils,\nproducing throughout the body tickling sensations and a disposition\nto low chuckling. When Gigag again came before Googloom, it was seen\nthat none of the royal guards were fit for duty, and that throughout\nthe palace and its grounds the disposition among courtiers, retainers,\nservants, pages, to laugh in their sleeves at the smallest incitement,\nwas unmistakable. Even the kitchen cats had caught the infection, and\nmewed dispersedly.\n\n\u201cNow, O great Googloom!\u201d said Gigag when all the court had assembled,\n\u201clet me in three acts essay to complete that transformation by which thy\npeople\u2019s despair shall be turned to joy, and thy laughing face shall\nbehold its own merriment.\u201d At this moment the giant shook like one\nwho is tickled all over, but cannot laugh, experiencing the greatest\ntortures without knowing what to make of them. To divert him the goblin\nrelated his favorite story of the merry owl, with such catcalls, crowing,\nmincing, and mewing, and withal such unearthly jest, that a thousand\ndogs would have died if they did not laugh. What wonder, then, that long\nbefore the witty Gigag had concluded a favorite page was so wrought upon\nby chuckling that, bursting his buttons, at length he laughed right out,\nwhich had such an effect upon all assembled that they chuckled, and then\nroared. \u201cHo, guards!\u201d cried Googloom; but Gigag easily drew his attention\nto the second part of the programme--for the goblin had actually brought\nthe giant to the point of complacency. \u201cI propose now,\u201d he said, \u201cto show\nyou the most ridiculous countenance that was ever seen, except one.\u201d\nHereupon he diminished and heightened his figure at intervals, while he\ncurved his nose by degrees, lengthened his teeth as he pleased, and put\nupon his mouth such an expression of maddening humor that his spectators\ngasped with laughing, to the vast confusion of the helpless giant, who\nvowed with a feeble smile that the gifted Gigag was certainly the most\ningenious man he ever knew.\n\n\u201cNothing will serve you, I perceive, O beautiful Googloom! except\nthe light of science; and now I will show you the face of the most\nridiculous man that ever was born.\u201d Accordingly, by means of an\ninstrument which he had invented, Gigag reflected upon a large canvas\nthe features of Googloom! Unwittingly the giant smiled, for he had never\nseen so preposterous a face before; and the more he smiled, the more\nridiculous it grew, till at last, after the giant himself had given way\nto laughter, it was so horribly funny that the whole court shrieked and\nshrieked again, and Googloom, losing all control, roared with such a\nvolume and power of merriment that he toppled off his throne, and was\ncrushed under its ruins. The people, seeing the faces of the courtiers\nand of each other, caught an infectious laughter, which prevailed\nthroughout all Odom, and did not by any means cease when the goblin Gigag\nwas called to the throne, and the reign of science began.\n\n\nTHE HAPPY ISLANDS.\n\n    \u201cTell me, brother, dearest brother,\n      Why it is thou aye dost weep?\n    Why thus, ever listless, sittest\n      Looking forth across the deep?\n\n    \u201cThy impatient steed is wond\u2019ring\n      Why his master doth not come,\n    On his perch thy hawk is sleeping,\n      E\u2019en thy hound\u2019s deep voice is dumb.\n\n    \u201cYesternight there came a minstrel\n      With a glee-maid young and fair,\n    If mayhap their merry voices\n      Would beguile thy weary care.\u201d\n\n    \u201cHawk may sleep, and hound may slumber,\n      My impatient steed must wait,\n    Nor care I to hear the minstrel\n      Who is resting at the gate.\n\n    \u201cE\u2019en the keen breeze of the mountains\n      Would not cool my fevered brow,\n    E\u2019en the shrill note of the trumpet\n      Would not serve to rouse me now.\n\n    \u201cDost remember, that our father\n      Told us how his wond\u2019ring eyes\n    Once beheld the Happy Islands\n      Far off on the ocean rise?\n\n    \u201cThose fair Islands where no mortal,\n      As \u2019tis said, has ever been,\n    Though at evening in the westward\n      They at sunset oft are seen.\n\n    \u201cThose blest Islands that so often\n      Were our aged minstrel\u2019s theme,\n    That surpass the fairest fancies\n      Of a poet\u2019s wildest dream.\n\n    \u201cWhere the Holy Grail lies hidden\n      Far from mortal quest or claim,\n    And the Tree of Life stands, guarded\n      By the Seraph\u2019s sword of flame:\n\n    \u201cWhere the Blessed Ones are dwelling\n      Till the dawning of the day\n    When this world and all upon it,\n      Like a dream, will pass away.\n\n    \u201cAnd our sire sailed towards those Islands,\n      Till their shore he drew so near\n    That the strains of heavenly singing\n      Fell upon his raptured ear.\n\n    \u201cAnd as that immortal music\n      O\u2019er his ravished senses stole,\n    An intense and eager longing\n      Took possession of his soul.\n\n    \u201cWhen, lo! as entranced he listened,\n      Suddenly the mists of night,\n    Gath\u2019ring round the Happy Islands,\n      Hid them from his anxious sight.\n\n    \u201cThen all through that weary midnight\n      Stayed he waiting for the dawn,\n    But when day broke, lo! the Islands\n      With the mists of night had gone.\n\n    \u201cFrom that day thou know\u2019st he languished,\n      And could take nor food nor rest,\n    For he aye was thinking, thinking\n      On those Islands of the Blest.\n\n    \u201cWhen he died, dost thou remember\n      We heard music from the sea,\n    That enchained us with the weirdness\n      Of its mystic melody?\n\n    \u201cScarce three days ago at sunset\n      I was sitting, thinking here,\n    When I saw those Happy Islands\n      In the west there, bright and clear.\n\n    \u201cWords would fail to tell their beauty,\n      They were wrapt in golden haze,\n    And they glowed with such a radiance\n      That on them I scarce could gaze.\n\n    \u201cAnd since that resplendent vision\n      On my raptured senses fell,\n    It has haunted and enthralled me\n      With the magic of its spell.\n\n    \u201cI must go and seek those Islands\n      That far to the westward lie.\n    I hear distant voices calling,\n      I must find those isles or die.\u201d\n\n    At the early dawn next morning\n      Young Sir Brian sailed away,\n    Mournfully his brother watch\u00e8d\n      On the shore the livelong day.\n\n    Long kept guard the weary watchers,\n      \u2019Mid the tempest and the rain,\n    But ah! nevermore Sir Brian\n      To his home came back again.\n\n    It is said by some he perished\n      In the wild and stormy wave,\n    Where the sea-birds wailed the requiem\n      O\u2019er his mist-enshrouded grave.\n\n    If perchance he reached those Islands,\n      Be ye sure that he stayed there;\n    For what earthly joy or beauty\n      With those Islands can compare?\n\n    Where the sun is ever shining\n      And the blossom doth not fade,\n    Where from quest of mortal hidden\n      The most Holy Grail is laid.\n\n    Where with flaming swords the Seraphs\n      Stand around the Tree of Life,\n    Where the Blessed Ones are dwelling\n      Who have conquered in the strife.\n\nNOTE.--This poem is founded on an ancient Irish legend, to the effect\nthat the Happy Islands, as they are called--that is, the temporal\nresting-place of the blessed, where yet stands the Tree of Life guarded\nby the cherubim--are situated in the ocean somewhere to the far westward\nof Ireland.\n\nIt is said they are sometimes to be seen at sunset from the coast o\u2019\nGalway.\n\nMany have sought to find them, and some even have come near them, but\njust as they were approaching, either the night fell or a storm arose and\ndrove them from the enchanted shores.\n\n\nNEW PUBLICATIONS.\n\n    LES DROITS DE DIEU ET LES IDEES MODERNES. Par l\u2019Abb\u00e9 Fran\u00e7ois\n    Chesnel, Vicaire-G\u00e9n\u00e9ral de Quimper. Poitiers et Paris: Henri\n    Oudin. 1875.\n\nEvery age has its special errors and its special manifestations of the\ntruth precisely opposite to those errors. The special errors of the\npresent age may be well summed up under one formula, which we find on p.\n335 of the Abb\u00e9 Chesnel\u2019s work bearing the title placed at the head of\nthis notice: \u201cThe pretended incompetence of God and his representatives\nin the order of human things, whether scientific or social.\u201d The system\nwhich springs from this fundamental notion has received the name of\nLiberalism. In contradiction to it, the authority of God and the church\nover those matters which are included in the order of human things, is\nthe truth which in our day has been the special object of inculcation,\ndefinition, explanation, and defence on the part of the Catholic Church\nand her most enlightened advocates. A great number of the very finest\nproductions of our contemporary Catholic writers in books, pamphlets,\nand periodicals, treat of themes and topics connected with this\nbranch of the great controversy between Catholic truth and universal\nerror. The volume just published by the Abb\u00e9 Chesnel is particularly\nremarkable among these for simplicity, lucidity, and moderation in its\nstatements, and for its adaptation to the understanding of the great\nmass of intelligent and educated readers, who are unable to profit by\nany treatises presupposing a great amount of knowledge and thought on\nabstruse matters. The form of dialogue helps the author and the reader\nvery much in respect to the facility and simplicity of the work of\ngiving and receiving elementary instruction on the subjects contained\nwithin the volume. The other topics besides the particular one we are\nabout to mention are handled very much in the same manner by M. Chesnel\nas by other sound and able writers, and require no special remark.\nThank God! our instructed American Catholics are not inclined to bury\nthemselves in what the author happily styles \u201cthe fog of liberalism,\u201d\nin so far as this confuses the view of the rights of the church and\nthe Holy See in respect to the usurpations of the civil power and the\nrebellions of private judgment. We have turned with a more particular\ninterest to that part of the volume which treats of the nature, origin,\nacquisition, and loss of sovereign rights by the possessors of political\npower in the state. This is one of the most difficult topics in the\ndepartment of ethics, and one seldom handled, in our opinion, so well\nas by our author. To a certain extent sound Catholic writers agree,\nand the principles maintained are proved with ease to the satisfaction\nof right-minded students. That political power is from God, that human\nrights are from God, that an authority certainly legitimate cannot\nbe resisted within its lawful domain without sin, are so many first\nprinciples universally accepted and easily proved. But when the sources\nand criteria of legitimacy are in question, there is far less agreement\neven among those who reject liberalism, and much less facility of laying\ndown and proving propositions in a satisfactory manner. The ingenious and\nlearned Dr. Laing, in his little book entitled _Whence do Kings Derive\nthe Right to Rule?_ in our opinion sustains most extravagant theories\nregarding the divine right of monarchs. On the other hand, we are not\nentirely satisfied with the reasonings of the very able and brilliant\nDublin Reviewer on the principles of legitimacy. In fact, we have not\nseen the subject handled in a perfectly thorough and satisfactory\nmanner by any author writing in the English language. M. Chesnel is not\nexhaustive, but, so far as his scope in writing permits him to develop\nhis subject, he seems to us remarkably clear and judicious. The beginning\nof sovereignty he traces to the parental expanding into the patriarchal\nauthority. Acquisition of lawful sovereignty he refers to inheritance,\nelection, and just conquest. The rehabilitation of a sovereignty unjustly\nacquired he refers to the accession of the right of a nation to the\npossession of the goods which have become dependent on the peaceable\nmaintenance of a _de facto_ sovereignty, sanctioned by a common consent.\nThe possessor who has been unjustly despoiled of his sovereignty _de\njure_ by one who has become sovereign _de facto_ evidently loses his\nright as soon as it is transferred lawfully to this spoliator or his\nheirs in the manner indicated. The author, as we think unnecessarily,\nresorts to the supposition that he is supposed to cede it, because he\ncannot reasonably maintain it. He adds, however, that if he does not\ncede it he nevertheless loses it, which seems to us to make his cession\nor non-cession wholly irrelevant and without effect. It is lost by the\nprevalence of a higher right on the part of the nation. Nevertheless,\nwe think that until a permanent and stable union of the welfare of\nthe nation with the right of the new dynasty is effected, the former\nsovereign right may in certain cases remain in abeyance, and therefore\nrevive again in the future. This appears to us to be exemplified in the\ncase of the rights of Don Carlos to the throne of Spain, and of the Comte\nde Chambord to the throne of France. Strictly, in themselves, their\nrights have been in abeyance, and remain imperfect, until the national\nwelfare, sustained by a sound and powerful part of the body politic,\ndemands their restitution and actually effects the same. In such cases\nthere is always more or less doubt about the real sense of the better and\nsounder part of the nation, and about the best settlement of conflicting\nclaims for the common good. And hence it is that the best men may differ,\nand conscientiously espouse opposite sides, when a nation is in an\nunsettled and divided state respecting its sovereignty.\n\nIn respect to the relation of the state to the church, the author has\nsome very just and sagacious remarks on the peculiar condition of things\nin our own republic, quite in accordance with the views which have been\nexpressed by our soundest American Catholic writers. We conclude our\ncriticism by quoting a few passages:\n\n\u201cThe religious system existing in the United States does not resemble,\neither in its origin or in its applications, that which the liberal sect\nimposes on the Catholic peoples of Europe. The American population, the\nprogeny of colonists driven from England by persecution, never possessed\nreligious unity. When Presbyterians, Episcopalians, and Catholics, who\nhad all fought in common for independence, assembled in Congress and\nformed their constitution, they recognized the variety of worships as an\nantecedent fact, and endeavored to accommodate themselves to it in the\nbest way they could. No false political theory disturbed the good sense\nof these legislators. Governed by a necessity manifestly invincible, and\nwhich still continues, they secured to each worship a complete liberty;\nproclaimed that which is a just consequence from this principle: that\nthe state should have only a very restricted agency--that is, no more\nthan what is necessary for reconciling the liberty of each one with that\nof all others. In fact, when separated from the true church, the state\nis reduced to pure naturalism, and in this condition the action of the\nstate, separated from the church, ought to be reduced to the minimum\u201d (p.\n179).\n\n    MEMOIRS OF GENERAL WILLIAM T. SHERMAN. By Himself. New York: D.\n    Appleton & Co. 1875.\n\nThis book marks an epoch in the literary history of the war. Ten years\nof reconstruction and of political spoil-gathering, of slow and still\nincomplete recuperation at the South, and of reluctant, painful\nsubsidence to the moderate profits and the quiet of peace at the North,\nhad dulled the excitement attending the events of the war, had corrected\nmany prejudices, had taken off many of the prominent actors of both sides\nof the contest, and had added to the literary public many men and women\nwho were children when Sherman \u201cmarched to the sea.\u201d And now comes one\nof the great conquerors of the Rebellion, and tells almost every word\nthat an honorable man would dare to tell of all that he knows about the\nsoldiers and the generals, the fighting and the plotting, of the war,\nand with infinite frankness--not stopping with facts, and dates, and\nfigures, but detailing his remembrance of conversations, frankly offering\nhis opinion of motives and his judgment of character, as well adverse as\nfavorable--as readily giving names of those deserving blame as of those\nworthy of praise. No wonder, therefore, that these _Memoirs_ have set\nthe whole country to thinking about the war, and all the newspapers to\ndiscussing it. We have already had scores of explanations and defences\nof those attacked, or of friends in their behalf, and we are promised\nthe Memoirs, Recollections, and Narratives of many of the more prominent\ngenerals; so that we shall shortly be supplied with testimony as to\nall the events of the late war, given by the actors themselves or by\neye-witnesses.\n\nThe first six chapters are occupied with General Sherman\u2019s life from\nthe beginning of the Mexican war till the outbreak of the civil war.\nThey are intensely interesting. Many of those who afterwards became\nleaders of great armies are introduced to the reader as simple captains\nor lieutenants in the old army. Little incidents illustrative of their\ncharacters are continually related, and the writer\u2019s own impressions,\nwith his unflinching candor, continually offered, every page glowing\nwith good-humor and sparkling with entertaining anecdotes. The domestic\narchives of more than one household of Lancaster, Ohio, must have been\nwell ransacked to get the letters written home by the young artillery\nlieutenant, in order to secure such exactness in date, and place, and\nconversation. One learns from these chapters about all that was done in\nCalifornia during the Mexican war, and who did it; graphic descriptions\nof many of the natural wonders of that country, and a very interesting\naccount of the early gold excitement. Gen. Sherman was on the staff of\nCol. Mason, commanding United States forces in California, when gold was\nfound in Sutter\u2019s mill-race; was present when Sutter\u2019s messenger showed\nit to Col. Mason and asked for a patent to the land; went to Sutter\u2019s\nplace, and saw the first miners at work there; wrote (August 17, 1848)\nthe official despatch of Col. Mason to the Adjutant-General which gave\nthe world the first authentic information that gold could be had in\nCalifornia for the digging.\n\nAfter peace was concluded with Mexico, the author of the _Memoirs_\nreturned to the States; but soon resigned his commission, went back to\nCalifornia, and opened a banking office in San Francisco--a branch of a\nwell-known house in St. Louis. His statement of the events of the year\n1856 in San Francisco is most interesting, throwing much light on the\nhistory of the famous Vigilance Committee. He was Militia General at the\ntime, and, in conjunction with the Governor, treated with the leaders of\nthe Committee, whom he undertakes to convict of falsehood, positively\nasserting that, had Gen. Wool given him the arms, he was prepared to\nfight the Vigilantes with militia, and would have suppressed them.\nHard times induced him shortly after to wind up his banking business\nand return to the States, and in the autumn of 1860, after trying and\ngiving up various undertakings, he had organized and was president of\na flourishing military school, under the patronage of the State of\nLouisiana. When that State seceded, Sherman at once resigned and went\nNorth, and when war broke out was commissioned colonel in the regular\narmy, rising gradually in rank till finally half the army and country was\nsubject to his command.\n\nNow begins his story of the war. To the most timid civilian there is an\nintense fascination in that war--a deep interest in every true narrative\nof it. Gen. Sherman takes us through some of its most exciting scenes,\nand so frankly and so familiarly that you feel as if you were some\ninvited stranger, sharing his mess, discussing his plans, participating\nin his hopes and fears, and rejoicing with him in his nearly uniform\nsuccess. His first battle was Bull Run, in which he commanded a brigade.\nShortly after this he was transferred to the West, where he remained\nuntil in the winter of 1864-5, when, having fought and conquered his way\nfrom Chattanooga to Atlanta, then through Georgia and South Carolina,\nhe found himself in North Carolina, in command of a large army, and\nupon the communications of Richmond. The General\u2019s narrative of these\nfour years is intensely interesting. Every description of battle or\nmarch is intelligible and vivid, every statement of plans is clear.\nThe battle of Shiloh is wonderfully well described; so are the battles\nwhich were fought around Atlanta. The same may be said of the storming\nof Fort McAllister--one of the most gallant deeds of the war. Thousands\nof ex-soldiers will fight their battles over again with this book--will\nlose themselves in the great mass of the army--will struggle once more\nagainst that sickening sensation which their sense of honor overcame as\nthe first bullet whistled by, the first pale, senseless form was borne\nto the rear on the bloody stretcher--will tingle again in every nerve\nat the first sight of the Southerners--will feel the sudden thrill of\nthe fearful excitement of the rush, or of the stubborn defence, or the\necstasy of victory. Many a one will once more feel the terrible fatigue\nof the march, the pangs of hunger and thirst, the weariness of sleepless\nnights on picket, the tedious, painful weeks spent in hospital. And every\nsoldier will once more feel sad as he reads of the places and scenes of\nthe death of his comrades, and will repeat for the thousandth time that\nit was always the best men who were killed.\n\nThe charges of cruelty and barbarity made during and after the war\nagainst Gen. Sherman are indignantly denied. The depopulation of the\ntown of Atlanta is justified in so far as the General clearly shows the\npurity of his motives and can cite the approval of both the civil and\nmilitary authorities; yet the ugly fact remains that it was done not for\nthe instant safety of his army or the immediate injury of the enemy\u2019s,\nbut thousands of women and children were driven among strangers and their\nhomes abandoned to the chances of a civil war to secure a temporary\nconvenience. As to the unauthorized foraging of the troops generally,\nthe General condemned and often reproved and condemned it; though his\ncorrespondence shows a secret satisfaction at the devastation committed\nin South Carolina, except where it might result in permanent injury to\nprivate property. His defence against Secretary Stanton\u2019s charges of\nusurping civil powers in treating with Gen. Jos. Johnston is simply\ncomplete. Gen. Sherman here had the honor to be the first after the war\nto suffer abuse and persecution because a kind heart and chivalrous\nsympathy with a gallant and beaten foe roused the hatred and fear of a\nclass of politicians as malicious and vindictive as they were ambitious.\n\nThe last chapter, \u201cMilitary Lessons of the War,\u201d is extremely\ninteresting, especially to military men. It contains some very important\nconclusions; for example, that infantry must hereafter fight in\nskirmishing order; that cavalry can no longer be used against organized\ninfantry; that every night\u2019s camp in an enemy\u2019s vicinity should be\ncovered by light works; and that good troops with the rifle can beat off\nfrom trenches double their numbers. All this and nearly all the other\nopinions advanced in this chapter had become truisms to even the common\nsoldier in our war, and the late Franco-German war has made them such for\nthe whole world. But Gen. Sherman\u2019s modesty has hindered him from showing\nthat his own persistent adherence to this new science not only gained\nhim Atlanta, but left him an intact and veteran army with which to crush\nthrough the heart of the South; and that Gen. Grant\u2019s neglect of it,\nand his adopting the \u201chammering-away\u201d method instead, not only did not\nconquer Lee and take Richmond, but positively buried the old gallant Army\nof the Potomac between the Rapidan and the Appomattox.\n\nIt is a great injustice to the Army of the Cumberland and its General to\nsay so glibly that at Chickamauga \u201cBragg had completely driven Rosecrans\u2019\narmy into Chattanooga\u201d; it is notorious that at the battle itself the\nkey of the position was never given up, and that the whole army offered\nbattle defiantly at Rossville before retiring to Chattanooga. Such a\nmistake as this throws discredit upon Gen. Sherman\u2019s statements of\nother events of which he was not an eye-witness. It is also much to be\nregretted that in matters wholly private he should not have reserved the\nnames of persons whose conduct was reprehensible. Thus it adds nothing\nto the interest of his narrative to give the _name_ of the officer of the\nship whose incorrect reckoning so inconvenienced the passengers on the\nauthor\u2019s first voyage to California; or to give the _name_ of the lawyer\nwho swindled him out of the proceeds of a note given him to collect; wife\nand children and friends should not be made to share public disgrace for\nprivate acts of which they themselves are entirely guiltless.\n\n    THE FIRST CHRISTMAS: A Mystery Play. By Albany James Christie,\n    S.J. London: Burns & Oates. 1875. (New York: Sold by The\n    Catholic Publication Society.)\n\nWe wish we could say that the contents of this small volume are worth its\nelegant exterior.\n\n    A POLITICO-HISTORICAL ESSAY ON THE POPES, as the Protectors of\n    Popular Liberty. By Rev. Henry A. Brann, D.D. New York: D. & J.\n    Sadlier & Co. 1875.\n\nIn spite of the confident assurance which every loyal Catholic has that\nthe rule of Rome, both temporal and spiritual, is not, never has been,\nnor ever will be, a despotism, it cannot be denied that but few are well\nacquainted with the facts of history which prove that the Papal power\nhas been the only interpreter, defender, and protector of their rights\nwhich the people ever had, and that all the liberties nations now enjoy\nare the result of the preaching and defence of the doctrines which lie at\nthe basis of all civilization by the popes, bishops, and priests of the\nCatholic Church.\n\nJust new the old howl against Rome is being renewed--the howl of the\nwolves against the shepherd; and the sheep now and again think it\nnecessary to apologize to the wolves for the care their ever-watchful\nguardian keeps over them, and also try to make them understand that it\nis both convenient and necessary that he should keep a dog and carry a\ncrook. It is little wonder that the wolves bark and snarl in reply to the\napologies, and see no force in our argument for either the dog or crook.\nBut the sheep of the true fold, and also the \u201cother sheep\u201d who are not\nyet of it, need, rather, plain, straightforward instruction, which, by\nthe grace of God, they will receive to their profit. Such is the essay\nbefore us, which we heartily welcome as most opportune, and, although\nfar from being exhaustive of the subject, is both pertinent and forcible.\nWe commend it as an excellent pamphlet to be freely distributed both\namong Catholics and honest-minded American non-Catholics.\n\n    THE STORY OF S. STANISLAUS KOSTKA. Edited by Father Coleridge,\n    S.J. London: Burns & Oates. 1875. (New York: Sold by The\n    Catholic Publication Society.)\n\nThis is the thirteenth volume of the admirable Quarterly Series edited\nby the Jesuit fathers in London. The \u201cStory\u201d is a brief one, but full\nof interest. We confess that S. Stanislaus has always seemed to us more\ncharming than even S. Aloysius. Both \u201cangelic youths\u201d are among the\ngreatest glories of the Catholic Church and the Society of Jesus.\n\nFather Coleridge tells us that the present work was at first intended to\nbe a simple translation from the Italian of Father Boero, but that he\nhas taken the pains to prepare an original narrative instead. All who\nknow his style will be grateful for the exchange. He has also confined\nhimself to a narration of facts, without digressing into \u201creligious and\nmoral reflections.\u201d We think this, too, makes the volume more attractive,\nparticularly to the young.\n\n    BIOGRAPHICAL READINGS. By Agnes M. Stewart. London: Burns\n    & Oates. 1875. (New York: Sold by The Catholic Publication\n    Society.)\n\nIt is somewhat aggravating to those familiar with the larger biographical\ndictionaries to take up a compilation like this. One is reminded of\nthe poet who sent his MSS. to a learned editor to prepare them for\npublication, and, after hearing the judgment passed by the critic,\ninsisted that he had thrown out the best pieces and retained the only\ntrash in the collection. The reader must try to put himself in the place\nof the compiler who undertakes the invidious task of determining who\nto speak of and what to say in a book of the kind. Almost inevitably,\neach reader has to regret the absence of some subjects by him deemed\nimportant. But, at least, the work will serve as an introduction to more\nexhaustive ones, and Catholics have an assurance in the editor that the\nstale assertions against cherished names, lay or cleric, which have\nheretofore disfigured most non-Catholic biographical sketches, will not\nbe found here.\n\n    THE YOUNG LADIES\u2019 ILLUSTRATED READER. New York: The Catholic\n    Publication Society, 9 Warren St. 1875.\n\nThis is the last volume of the Young Catholic\u2019s Illustrated Series of\nReaders. We have read it with considerable care, and are of the opinion\nthat it is the best book of the kind in the English language. The\nselections, which embrace a wide range of subjects, all bearing more or\nless directly upon the mission and work of woman, have been made with\ndiscernment and taste. The most important lessons are here taught in the\nmost agreeable style and in the pleasantest manner. It is a treatise on\nthe duties of Christian women without any of the dulness of the moral\nessay.\n\nWe admire especially the biographical sketches of the foundresses of\nreligious orders which are scattered here and there through the book.\nWhatever the vocation of a young girl may be, she will be all the truer\nand nobler woman for having been taught to reverence and love the\nreligious life.\n\nThe perusal of the several Readers of the Young Catholic\u2019s Series has\nshown us, in a light in which we have never seen it before, the great\neducational value of such books. We are not surprised at the favorable\nmanner in which these Readers have been received, nor shall we be\nastonished to hear of their superseding all others in our Catholic\nSchools.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nANNOUNCEMENT.--In the October number of THE CATHOLIC WORLD we shall begin\na new serial story, entitled _Sir Thomas More: A Historical Romance_.\n\n\nBOOKS AND PAMPHLETS RECEIVED.\n\n    From P. O\u2019Shea, New York: Notes on the Rubrics of the Roman\n    Ritual. By the Rev. James O\u2019Kane. 12mo, pp. xiv., 471.\n\n    --Lives of the Saints, with a Practical Instruction on the Life\n    of each Saint. By Rev. F. X. Weninger, D.D., S.J. Part III.\n    8vo, pp. 144.\n\n    --Recollections of the Last Four Popes and of Rome in their\n    Times. By His Eminence Cardinal Wiseman. 12mo, pp. 487.\n\n    From APPLETON & CO., New York: John Dorrien. By Julia Kavanagh.\n    12mo, pp. 500.\n\n    From the OFFICERS: Proceedings of the General Theological\n    Library for the year ending April 26, 1875. 8vo, pp. 49.\n\n    From K. TOMPKINS, New York: \u201cRighteousness\u201d: The\n    Divinely-Appointed Rule of Life. By Philalethes. Paper, 12mo,\n    pp. 75.\n\n    From J. S. WHITE & CO., Marshall, Mich.: Mass in C. with\n    Accompaniment for Piano or Organ. By Rev. H. T. Driessen.\n\n    From GEORGE WILLIG & CO., Baltimore: Peters\u2019 Celebrated Mass in\n    D. Composed by W. C. Peters. Pp. 32.\n\n    From D\u2019Augutin Cote et Cie., Quebec: Annuaire de l\u2019Universit\u00e9\n    Laval pour l\u2019Ann\u00e9e Acad\u00e9mique 1875-6. 8vo, pp. 97, xxviii.\n\n    From The Christian Brothers\u2019 College, Memphis: Address to the\n    Graduates, June 25, 1875. By Hon. Jacob Thompson. 12mo, pp. 8.\n\n\n\n\nFOOTNOTES\n\n\n[1] For particulars see _Bulletin of the Catholic Union_, Jan., 1875,\nwhich contains an admirably-prepared statement of the whole case.\n\n[2] Italy! Italy!\u2026 Oh! that thou wert less fair or more powerful!\n\n[3] \u201cA slavish Italy! thou inn of grief!\u201d--_Cary\u2019s Dante._\n\n[4] _Conf. of S. Aug._, b. x. ch. vi.\n\n[5] A Sister\u2019s Story.\n\n[6] \u201cLove that denial takes from none beloved.\u201d--_Cary\u2019s Dante, Inferno_,\ncanto v.\n\n[7] Alexandrine de la Ferronnays.\n\n[8] Madame Swetchine.\n\n[9] We have the _eleventh_ edition of the English translation with the\ntitle, _The Lady\u2019s Travels into Spain_, 2 vols., London, 1808.\n\n[10] See John Hay\u2019s _Castilian Days_, p. 233.\n\n[11] _Psiquis y Cupido_, two autos, refacciamento of the comedy of _Ni\nAmor se libra de Amor_; _El Pintor de su Deshonra_, comedy of same name;\n_El Arbol del Mejor Fruto_, _La Sibila del Oriente_; _La Vida es Sue\u00f1o_,\ncomedy of same name; _Andromeda y Perseo_, comedy of same name; _El\nJardin de Falernia_, comedy of same name; _Los Encantos de la Culpa, el\nmayor Encanto Amor_.\n\nThese, we believe, are all the _autos_ which duplicate comedies.\n\n[12] A Mass, followed by the Benediction of the Most Holy Sacrament,\nis celebrated with this intention the first Saturday of every month at\nnine o\u2019clock, in the chapel of the Barnabite Fathers at Paris, 64 Rue de\nMonceau. The reader will find at the end of our second essay (_Le Pape de\nRome et les Popes de l\u2019Eglise Orthodoxe d\u2019Orient_. Paris: Plon) a notice\nupon the \u201cAssociation of prayers in honor of Mary Immaculate for the\nreturn of the Greco-Russian Church to Catholic Unity,\u201d with the documents\nrelating to it.\n\n[13] \u201cIt is not for naught that the Russians have preserved among the\ntreasures of their faith the _cultus_ of Mary; it is not for naught that\nthey invoke her, that they believe in her Immaculate Conception, without,\nperhaps, knowing it, and that they celebrate its festival.\u2026 Yes, Mary\nwill be the bond which shall unite the two churches, and which will make\nof all those who love her a people of brethren, under the fraternity of\nthe Vicar of Jesus Christ\u201d (_Ma Conversion et ma Vocation_, par le P\u00e8re\nSchouvaloff, Barnabite, II. part, \u00a79, Paris, Douniol, 1859).\n\n[14] She chose S. Rose of Lima for her patron, and took her name at\nconfirmation.\n\n[15] The day of burial.\n\n[16] See _Louis XVII., sa Vie, sa Mort, son Agonie_, par M. de\nBeauchesne, published 1852.\n\n[17] Materia quandoque est sub una forma, quandoque sub alia, per se\nautem nunquam potest esse; quia, quum in ratione sua non habeat aliquam\nformam, non potest esse in actu (quum esse in actu non sit nisi a forma),\nsed solum in potentia; et ideo quidquid est in actu non potest dici\nmateria prima.--Opusc. _De Principiis Natur\u00e6_.\n\n[18] Quia materia est potentia tantum, ideo est una numero, non\nper unam formam quam habeat, sed per remotionem omnium formarum\ndistinguentium.--In 1 sent., dist. 2, q. 1, a. 1, ad 3m.\n\n[19] Forma accidentalis advenit subjecto jam pr\u00e6existenti in actu; forma\nautem substantialis non advenit subjecto jam pr\u00e6existenti in actu, sed\nexistenti in potentia tantum, scilicet materi\u00e6 prim\u00e6.--In Arist. _De\nAnima_, lib. 2, lect. 1.\n\n[20] H\u00e6c est vera natura materi\u00e6, ut scilicet non habeat actu aliquam\nformam, sed sit in potentia ad omnes.--In Arist. _Metaph._, 1, lect. 12.\n\n[21] Materia prima est potentia pura, sicut Deus est actus purus.--_Sum.\nTheol._, p. 1, q. 115, a. 1, ad 2m.\n\n[22] Ut enim ad statuam \u00e6s, vel ad lecticam lignum, vel ad aliud quidpiam\ncorum qu\u00e6 formam habent, materia et quod forma caret se habet priusquam\nformam acceperit, sic ipsa ad substantiam se habet et ad id quod est hoc\naliquid, atque ens.--_Physic._, lib. 1.\n\n[23] Materia prima est in omnibus corporibus.--_Sum. Theol._, p. 1, q. 8,\na. 4.\n\n[24] Oportet ponere etiam materiam primam creatam ab universali causa\nentium, \u2026 sed non quod sit creata sine forma.--_Ibid._, q. 44, a. 2.\n\n[25] Quod autem materia prima remaneat actu post formam, non est nisi\nsecundum actum alterius form\u00e6.--_Contra Gent._, lib. 2, c. 81.\n\n[26] Id communiter materia prima nominatur, quod est in genere\nsubstanti\u00e6 ut potentia qu\u00e6dam intellecta pr\u00e6ter omnem speciem et formam,\net etiam pr\u00e6ter privationem; qu\u00e6 tamen est susceptiva formarum et\nprivationum.--_De Spirit. Creaturis_, art. 1. We can hardly conceive how\nthe matter thus abstracted from all forms can be understood to remain\n\u201cnot under privations.\u201d When we conceive the matter without any form, we\nconceive it as _deprived_ of all forms. The thing is evident. Materia\nabsque forma intellecta cum privatione etiam intelligitur, says S. Thomas\nhimself, _De Potentia_, q. 4., a. 1.\n\n[27] Terra autem ipsa quam feceras, informis materies erat, quia\ninvisibilis erat et incomposita \u2026 de qua terra invisibili et incomposita,\nde qua informitate, de quo pene nihilo faceres h\u00e6c omnia quibus iste\nmutabilis mundus constat.--_Confess._, lib. 12 c. 8.\n\n[28] Augustinus accipit informitatem materi\u00e6 pro carentia omnis form\u00e6; et\nsic impossibile est dicere quod informitas materi\u00e6 tempore pr\u00e6cesserit\nvel formationem ipsius vel distinctionem. Et de formatione quidem\nmanifestum est. Si enim materia informis pr\u00e6cessit duratione, h\u00e6c erat\njam in actu; hoc enim creatio importat. Creationis enim terminus est ens\nactu; ipsum autem quod est actus, est forma. Dicere igitur, materiam\npr\u00e6cedere sine forma, est dicere ens actu sine actu, quod implicat\ncontradictionem.--_Sum. Theol._, p. 1, q. 66, a. 1.\n\n[29] Informe appellabam non quod careret forma, sed quod talem haberet,\nut, si appareret, insolitum et incongruum aversaretur sensus meus,\net conturbaretur infirmitas hominis. Verum illud quod cogitabam, non\nprivatione omnis form\u00e6, sed comparatione formosiorum erat informe:\net suadebat vera ratio ut omnis form\u00e6 qualescumque reliquias omnino\ndetraherem, si vellem prorsus informe cogitare; et non poteram. Citius\nenim non esse censebam quod omni forma privaretur, quam cogitabam quiddam\ninter formatum et nihil, nec formatum, nec nihil, informe prope nihil.\nEt cessavit mens mea interrogare hinc spiritum meum plenum imaginibus\nformatorum corporum et eas pro arbitrio mutantem atque variantem; et\nintendi in ipsa corpora, eorumque mutabilitatem altius inspexi, qua\ndesinunt esse quod fuerant, et incipiunt esse quod non erant; eorumdemque\ntransitum de forma in formam per informe quiddam fieri suspicatus sum,\nnon per omnino nihil; sed nosse cupiebam, non suspicari. Et si totum\ntibi confiteatur vox et stilus meus, quidquid de ista qu\u00e6stione enodasti\nmihi, quis legentium capere durabit? Nec ideo tamen cessabit cor meum\ndare tibi honorem et canticum laudis de iis qu\u00e6 dictare non sufficit.\nMutabilitas enim rerum mutabilium ipsa capax est formarum omnium in quas\nmutantur res mutabiles. Et h\u00e6c quid est? Numquid animus? numquid corpus?\nnumquid species animi vel corporis? Si dici posset \u201cNihil aliquid,\u201d et\n\u201cEst non est,\u201d hoc eam dicerem; et tamen jam utcumque erat, ut species\ncaperet istas visibiles et compositas.--_Confess._, lib. 12, c. 6.\n\n[30] Tu enim, Domine, fecisti mundum de materia informi, quam fecisti de\nnulla re pene nullam rem.--_Confess._, lib. 12, c. 8.\n\n[31] Licet essentia, qua res denominatur ens, non sit tantum forma,\nnec tantum materia, tamen hujusmodi essenti\u00e6 sola forma suo modo est\ncausa.--_De Ente et Essentia_, c. 2.\n\n[32] Etiam form\u00e6 non habent esse, sed composita habent esse per\neas--_Sum. Theol._, p. 1, q. 5, a. 4.\n\n[33] Nec forma substantialis completam essentiam habet; quia in\ndefinitione form\u00e6 substantialis oportet quod ponatur, id cujus est\nforma.--_De Ente et Essentia_, c. 5.\n\n[34] Creationis terminus est ens actu; ipsum autem quod est actus est\nforma.--_Sum. Theol._, p. 1, q. 66, a. 1.\n\n[35] This article is reprinted, with the author\u2019s permission, from\nadvance sheets of a pamphlet published by Basil Montagu Pickering,\nLondon.--ED. C. W.\n\n[36] S. Matthew xviii. 8.\n\n[37] Thomas \u00e0 Kempis, book iii. c. 3.\n\n[38] Genesis xvii. 1.\n\n[39] Psalm xlv. 11.\n\n[40] Psalm xxxiii. 9.\n\n[41] 1 Corinth. iii. 16.\n\n[42] Philip. ii. 13.\n\n[43] Psalm ciii. 30.\n\n[44] January 15, 1872. This, and the subsequent quotations of the words\nof Pius IX. are taken from _Actes et Paroles de Pius IX._ Par Auguste\nRoussel. Paris: Palm\u00e9. 1874.\n\n[45] _Traite du S. Esprit_, par Mgr. Gaume, 1864.\n\n[46] January 22, 1871.\n\n[47] De Maistre, _Soir\u00e9es de St. Petersburg_, Xe Soir\u00e9e.\n\n[48] S. Matt. xvi. 18.\n\n[49] 1 Timothy iii. 15.\n\n[50] Psalm lxvi. 5.\n\n[51] S. Paul\u2019s Epistle to the Romans, xi. 23.\n\n[52] Encyclical to the German bishops, 1854.\n\n[53] January 24, 1872.\n\n[54] _History of the Conflict between Religion and Science._ By John W.\nDraper. New York: D. Appleton & Co. 1874.\n\n[55] The metrical translations used in this article are substantially\nthose of Mr. D. F. MacCarthy, whose works have been noticed before.\nWe cannot refrain from again expressing our admiration and wonder at\nthe successful manner in which he has overcome difficulties almost\ninsuperable, and which no one can appreciate until he has himself\nattempted to translate Spanish _asonantes_ into corresponding English\nverse.\n\n[56] We have already spoken of Spanish _asonante_ rhyme and the\ndifficulty of its translation into corresponding English verse.\n\nFor those who are unacquainted with Spanish prosody the following\nexplanation of what the _asonante_ is may not be amiss.\n\nAssonance consists simply in the similarity of the final, or last two\nvowels in the line, _e. g._, _luna_, _juzoa_, _culpas_, _gula_, _suma_.\nThese all are considered to rhyme because they have the same vowels,\n_u-a_; _honor_, _sol_, _hoy_, _di\u00f3_, _cuatro_, are examples of single\n_asonantes_ in _o_.\n\nDean Trench calls this the \u201cghost and shadow of a rhyme.\u201d How well Mr.\nMacCarthy has succeeded in reproducing it the reader can see in the\nabove extract. The _asonantes_ in the original are _u-a_, for which Mr.\nMacCarthy has substituted _u-e_.\n\n[57] See Daniel, chap. v. 10, 11.\n\n[58] Dico ergo primo: Materia prima ex se, et non intrinsece a forma,\nhabet suam entitatem actualem essenti\u00e6, quamvis non habeat illam nisi cum\nintrinseca habitudine ad formam.--_Disp. Metaph._ 13, sect. 4, n. 9.\n\n[59] Dico secundo: Materia prima etiam habet in se et per se entitatem,\nseu actualitatem, existenti\u00e6 distinctam ab existentia form\u00e6, quamvis\nillam habeat dependenter a forma.--_Ibid._ n. 13.\n\n[60] Subjectum secundum privationem.--Arist. 8. _Metaph._, n. 1.\n\n[61] Si enim materia prima haberet aliquam formam propriam, per eam esset\naliquid actu; et sic, quum superinduceretur alia forma, non simpliciter\nmateria per eam esset, sed fieret hoc vel illud ens; et sic esset\ngeneratio secundum quid, et non simpliciter. Unde omnes ponentes primum\nsubjectum esse aliquod corpus, ut a\u00ebrem et aquam, posuerunt generationem\nidem esse quod alterationem.--_In 8. Metaph._, lect. 1.\n\n[62] Cardinal Tolomei, who was not only a well-read man, but also\na peripatetic at heart, candidly confesses that the peripatetic\nview of generation has never been substantiated. \u201cDepend upon it,\u201d\nsays he, \u201ceither no sound argument can be adduced in proof of the\nperipatetic system, and we must, accordingly, simply postulate it; or,\nif any proof can be adduced, it consists in the sole argument from\nauthority.\u201d Crede mihi; vel solidi nihil afferri potest pro systemate\nperipatetico adstruendo, adeoque simpliciter erit postulandum; vel unico\na nobis allecto argumento (auctoritatis) satis est roboris ad ipsum\nconfirmandum.--_Phil. Mentis et Sensuum_, diss 8, phys. gen. concl. 2.\nAnd speaking of the argument drawn from substantial changes, he declares\nit to be a mere sophism: Est mera petitio principii, et \u00e6quivocatio inter\nmateriam primam ab omnibus philosophis admissam, et materiam primam\nAristotelicam.--_Ibid._ See Tongiorgi, _Cosmol._, lib. 1, c. 2, n. 42 et\nseq.\n\n[63] On the difference between substantial and essential forms, see THE\nCATHOLIC WORLD, November, 1873, p. 190.\n\n[64] _Summa Theol._, p. 1, q. 76, a. 4.\n\n[65] Vera corpora, qu\u00e6 nimirum substanti\u00e6 sunt, et non aggregata\nsubstantiarum, componuntur quoad essentiam ex materia et forma\nsubstantiali.--Liberatore, _Metaph. Special._, p. 1, n. 53.\n\n[66] Hominis ergo compositio ex materia et forma substantiali ostendit,\nesse in rebus naturalibus quoddam subjectum naturale natura sua aptum ut\ninformetur actu aliquo substantiali; ergo tale subjectum imperfectum et\nincompletum est in genere substanti\u00e6; petit ergo esse semper sub aliquo\nactu substantiali.--Suarez, _Disp. Metaph._ 15, sect. 1, n. 7.\n\n[67] This reason is given by Suarez: \u201cHomo constat forma substantiali ut\nintrinseca causa.\u2026 Nam anima rationalis substantia est et non accidens,\nut patet, quia per se manet separata a corpore, quum sit immortalis; est\nergo per se subsistens et independens a subjecto. Non ergo est accidens,\nsed substantia\u201d--_Disp. Metaph._ 15, sect. 1, n. 6.\n\n[68] H\u00e6c paritas est innumeris affecta disparitatibus, quantum\nvidelicet interest inter animam rationalem, spiritualem, per se\nsubsistentem, immortalem, et entitates quasdam corporeas, corruptibiles,\nincompletas.--_Loc. cit._\n\n[69] See Tongiorgi, _Cosmol._, lib. i. c. 2, n. 35.\n\n[70] THE CATHOLIC WORLD, April, 1875.\n\n[71] See THE CATHOLIC WORLD, February, 1874, p. 584.\n\n[72] See \u201cLe Courrier Russe,\u201d by M. J. Martinov, from which the present\narticle is in great part an abridged translation, _Revue des Questions\nHistoriques_ for April, 1874.\n\n[73] It was on the 19th of February, 1861, that the Emancipation of the\nSerfs was proclaimed.\n\n[74] _Rousska\u00efa Istoria v jizneopisaniakh \u00efe\u00efa glavne\u00efchikh\npredstavitelaei._\n\n[75] The _V\u00e6ringer_, or Varangians, were a people of Scandinavian race\nwho had settled in Neustria, which owes to them its name of Normandy.\nMany of these warriors were invited into Sclavonia by the Novogorodians\nto defend their northern frontier against the incursions of the Finns;\nbut some years later, in 862, Rurik, their chief, took possession of\nNovogorod, assuming the title of Grand Prince. Others of the same race\nestablished themselves at Kiev, in the year 864.\n\n[76] The Countess Boutourlin and her sister, the Countess Virenzov.\n\n[77] _Drevnia\u00efa russka\u00efa istoria do Mongolskago iga._ Moscow: 1871.\n\n[78] Amongst these may be named the _Historic Papers of Arseniev_, those\nof _Catherine II._, and the _Marquis de Ch\u00e9tardie_, French Ambassador at\nthe court of Elizabeth, and in particular the very interesting work on\n_Learning and Literature in Russia under Peter II._\n\n[79] _Prikhodsoko\u00efe doukhovenstvo so vremeni reformy Petra I._ Kazan:\n1873.\n\n[80] See also _The Russian Clergy_. By Father Gagarin, S.J. London: 1872.\n\n[81] See p. 610.\n\n[82] The Ruthenians, or Ruthenes, are a people of Sclavonic race\ninhabiting the province of Servia. The Ruthenian or Servian alphabet is\nalso called \u201cthe Alphabet of S. Cyril.\u201d\n\n[83] _Istoria vozso\u00efedineni\u00efa zapadnorouskikh ouniatov starykh vremen._\nPetersburg: 1873.\n\n[84]\n\n    \u201cE\u2019en thus the Romans, when the year returns\n    Of Jubilee, with better speed to rid\n    The thronging multitudes, their means devise\n    For such as pass the bridge; that on one side\n    All front toward the castle, and approach\n    S. Peter\u2019s fane, on the other towards the mount.\u201d\n\n    --_Cary\u2019s Translation._\n\n[85]\n\n                        \u201cLike a wight,\n    Who haply from Croatia wends to see\n    Our Veronica and the while \u2019tis shown,\n    Hangs over it with never-sated gaze,\n    And, all that he hath heard revolving, saith\n    Unto himself in thought: \u2018And didst thou look\n    E\u2019en thus, O Jesus, my true Lord and God?\n    And was this semblance thine?\u2019\u201d\n\n    --_Cary\u2019s Translation._\n\n[86] _The Greville Memoirs._ A Journal of the Reigns of King George IV.\nand King William IV. By Charles C. F. Greville, Clerk of the Council to\nthose Sovereigns. Edited by H. Reeve, Registrar of the Privy Council. New\nYork: Appleton & Co. 1875.\n\n_M\u00e9moires du Duc de Saint-Simon sur le si\u00e8cle de Louis XIV. et la\nR\u00e9gence._ Paris: 1858.\n\n[87] This notice is taken in part from the French of Henry Hoisnard and\nother sources.\n\n[88] \u201cPreach the Word, be instant in season, out of season.\u201d--2 Tim. iv.\nii.\n\n[89] \u201cAnd the dragon was angry against the woman.\u201d--Apoc. xii. 17.\n\n[90] The age of some of the \u201cchildren\u201d in this institution actually runs\nup to twenty and even twenty-one.\n\n[91] Possibly the superintendent, Mr. Israel C. Jones, and such as\nhe, have had much to do with bringing about this magnificent result.\nTheir course of treatment of the unfortunate children committed to\ntheir care is sufficiently well known to many of our readers. Here is\na picture of Mr. Jones and his associate reformers, painted by his\nown hand, and exhibited to the public gaze in a court of justice. It\noccurred during the trial of Justus Dunn, an inmate of the Institution\nfor the Reformation of Juvenile Delinquents, for the killing of Samuel\nCalvert, one of the keepers. In his cross-examination Mr Jones testified\nrespecting various modes of punishment used in the institution. One was\nas follows: \u201cI know of Ward being tied up by the thumbs. (The witness\ndescribed this mode of punishment.) In the tailor\u2019s shop there is an\niron column five inches in diameter; around the top of that was placed a\nsmall cord, and another small cord was run through it, and dropped down;\n_the boys\u2019 thumbs were put into the ends and drawn up until the arms were\nextended_, but their feet were not moved.\n\n\u201cBy Judge Bedford: How long were they kept in that position? A. From\nthree, perhaps to eight minutes. To Mr Howe: I tried the effect upon\nmyself; it was an idea that struck me to deal with that particular class\nof boys. I think seven, not to exceed eight, boys were punished in this\nway. I was present during the punishment of one of the boys part of the\ntime. I went out of the room.\n\n\u201cBy Judge Bedford: You do not know of your own knowledge whether they\nwere raised from the ground? A. Not of my own knowledge.\n\n\u201cBy Mr. Howe: You saw the boys put up by this small whip-cord? A. Yes,\nsir.\n\n\u201cQ. And you would leave the room when they were spliced up? A. Yes, sir;\nI stepped out of the room once or twice. I have seen boys beaten with\na rattan, but not so severely as to be able to count the welts by the\nblood.\u201d\n\nThere is much more of the same character, but the extract given is\nenough to show the means adopted in this estimable institution and by\nthis eminently pious superintendent for the reformation of juvenile\ndelinquents. It is like reading again the pages of another but an earlier\nReformation.\n\n[92] This answer was actually made not long ago to a Catholic priest by a\nProtestant clergyman.\n\n[93] How now!\n\n[94] Light of the moon.\n\n[95] Some codices have XXXV.\n\n[96] During the residence of the popes at Avignon, and afterwards until\nabout the time of the Council of Trent, it was usual to call cardinals\nby the name of their native places or of their dioceses, as the Cardinal\nof Gaeta (Cajetan), the Cardinal of Toledo. This was the case at first\npossibly because the cardinals were not very familiar with their titles\non the banks of the Tiber, which many of them never saw, and may have\nbeen kept up afterwards when the popes returned to Rome, in some degree\nby that love of grand nomenclature which characterized the age of the\nrevival of letters. It requires sometimes no little search to discover\nthe _real_ name of one who is called in history, for instance, the\nCardinal of S. Chrysogonus (Cardinalis Sancti Chrysogoni) or the Cardinal\nof Pavia (Cardinalis Papiensis).\n\nThe present style has long been to call cardinals by their family names;\nbut if these be ancient or memorable ones, there is a recognized form of\nLatinization not to be departed from. Thus, to give an example, the late\nCardinal Prince Altieri was in Latin Cardinalis de Alteriis.\n\n[97] Those who use the Roman _Ordo_ in saying the Office will have\nremarked how constantly the expression _Mense decembri_ occurs in the\nlessons of the earlier pope-saints as the season at which they held one\nor more ordinations. These ordinations thought worthy of being recorded\nwere only those of cardinals.\n\n[98] Cenni gives it as here from a precious Veronese MS.; but Gratian,\nin the _Decretum_ (dist. 79, can. 5), read _filiorum_; yet this does not\nmaterially alter the text.\n\n[99] Stand bravely.\n\n[100]\n\n    Jesus, thou didst labor,\n    Aid us in our toil!\n\n[101]\n\n    Jesus! thou art the Good Shepherd;\n      Thy flock, it is the sinner;\n    Guard it from the wolf infernal\n      And every kind of evil!\n\n[102] _Vie du Fr\u00e8re Philippe._ Par M. Poujoulat. Tours: Mame et Fils.\n\n[103] Letter of March 17, 1766.\n\n[104] Ibid., April 1, 1766.\n\n[105] Ibid., April 17, 1766.\n\n[106] _G\u00e9om\u00e9trie Pratique appliqu\u00e9e au dessin Lin\u00e9aire._\n\n[107] The article is as follows: \u201cPrimary instruction comprises moral\nand religious teaching, reading, writing, the elements of the French\nlanguage, arithmetic, and the legal system of weights and measures; to\nwhich may also be added arithmetic applied to practical operations,\nthe elements of history and geography, some acquaintance with physical\nscience and natural history applicable to the requirements of life,\nelementary instruction in agriculture, manufactures and hygiene,\nland-surveying, levelling, linear drawing, singing, and gymnastics.\u201d\n\n[108] From the MS. _Journey of the Lady Anne of Cleves_, in the State\nPaper Office.\n\n[109] The first was Catherine of Aragon; the second Jane Seymour; the\nthird Anne of Cleves. Between the first and second came Anne Boleyn, who\nwas never his _wife_; and after the third came two more queens, Catherine\nHoward and Catherine Parr, neither of whom lays claim to the title of\nwife, as Anne outlived him for many years.\n\n[110] See Moreri and De Thou.\n\n[111] State Papers.\n\n[112] This essay, by the Rev. Henry Formby, published in England in\n1849, has been many years out of print. We lay it before our readers\nwith the kind permission of the author, being assured that those who are\ninterested in the subject of which it treats will be glad to obtain an\nopportunity to peruse it.--ED. C. W.\n\n[113] Mgr. Parisis, Bishop of Langres, speaks thus of its importance:\n\u201cFar, then, from thinking that, in occupying ourselves with it, we\nderogate from the sanctity of our ministry, we consider ourselves to be\nperforming an imperious duty and to be providing for an urgent necessity\u201d\n(_Instruction pastorale sur le Chant de l\u2019Eglise_).\n\n[114] The Roman chant exists in two principal collections: the _Gradual_,\nwhich contains the Order of the Celebration of Mass throughout the year;\nand the _Antiphonale_, which contains the chant for the canonical hours.\nThese usually form two large folio volumes. Besides these there are\nsmaller collections, the Rituale and Processionale, Hymnarium, etc.\n\n[115] _Fundamental Philosophy_, lib. iii. c. 11.\n\n[116] _De Divinis Perfectionibus_, lib. ii, c. 2.\n\n[117] _Fundamental Philosophy_, lib. iii. c. 12, n. 82.\n\n[118] _Ibid._, n. 83.\n\n[119] THE CATHOLIC WORLD, January, 1875, p. 487.\n\n[120] THE CATHOLIC WORLD, August, 1874, p. 583.\n\n[121] This objection is taken from Dmowski\u2019s _Cosmology_, n. 34.\n\n[122] The phrase \u201cspace is mensurable\u201d is common, but it is not strictly\ncorrect; for it is not absolute space, but only the intervals or\ndistances (which are relations in space) that are really mensurable,\nas we shall see in our next article. Yet, as the phrase was used in\nthe objection, we kept it in our answer, on the ground that, although\nabsolute space is not formally mensurable in itself, it is the reason\nof the mensurability of all intervals arising from its extrinsic\nterminations.\n\n[123] Ipsa enim immensitas divin\u00e6 substanti\u00e6 et sibi et mundo sufficiens\nest spatium, et intervallum capax omnis natur\u00e6 creabilis, tam corporalis,\nquam spiritualis. Sicut enim essentia divina est prim\u00e6va essentia, origo\net fundamentum omnis essenti\u00e6 et entis conceptibilis, ita immensitas\ndivina est primum et intimum intervallum, seu spatium, origo omnis\nintervalli, et spatium omnium spatiorum, locus omnium locorum, sedes\net basis primordialis omnis loci et spatii.--_Lessius, De Divinis\nPerfectionibus_, lib. ii., c. 2.\n\n[124] _Philos. Fundament._, c. xvi. n. 113.\n\n[125] _Ibid._, c. xvii. n. 119, 120.\n\n[126] THE CATHOLIC WORLD, January, 1875, p. 487.\n\n[127] Childishness.\n\n[128] The Chevalier Gaetano Moroni is a gentleman of the bedchamber to\nthe present Pope. His farraginous work in one hundred and three volumes,\nis an inexhaustible source of ecclesiastical erudition; but as Niebuhr\nsaid of Cancellieri\u2019s writings, these large octavos contain some things\nthat are important, many things that are useful, and everything that is\nsuperfluous.\n\n[129] _Relazione della corte di Roma._ The best edition is that published\nat Rome in 1774, with notes by the learned Jesuit, F. A. Zaccaria.\n\n[130] This strange proceeding of the belted custodian of the conclave\nis confirmed by a document which was issued by the cardinals on the\n8th of June--\u201cIn palatio discooperto episcopatus Viterbiensis\u201d (Macri,\n_Hierolexicon_).\n\n[131] Our English distinction of Very, Right, and Most Reverend is\nunknown in good Latin. _Admodum Reverendus_ is barbarous and repudiated\nby the _stylus curi\u00e6_.\n\n[132] Betrayed his uncle Paul IV., was tried by eight of his peers and\ncondemned to death.\n\n[133] Abused the confidence of Benedict XIII.; condemned by Clement XII.\nto a fine of two hundred thousand crowns, to loss of all dignities, and\nten years\u2019 imprisonment.\n\n[134] He purged himself and was reinstated in the cardinalate; seems to\nhave been more of a dupe than a rogue.\n\n[135] Deprived of his dignity by Pius VI. on Sept. 21, 1791, for taking\nthe schismatical civil oath of the French clergy.\n\n[136] After the battle of Gravelotte, the Christian Brothers carried\neight thousand wounded from that sanguinary field.\n\n[137] See _Les Fr\u00e8res des Ecoles chr\u00e9tiennes pendant la Guerre de\n1870-71_, par J. d\u2019Arsac.\n\n[138] See _Vie du Fr\u00e8re Philippe_, p. 296.\n\n[139] \u201cForma erigendi seminarium clericorum:\u201d--\u201cUt vero in eadem\ndisciplina ecclesiastica commodius instituantur, tonsura statim\natque habitu clericali semper utentur; grammatices, cantus computi\necclesiastici, aliarumque bonarum artium disciplinam discent,\u201d\netc.--_Concilium Tridentinum_: Sessio XXIII. de Reform, c. 18.\n\n[In the letters of the Holy Father Pius IX. establishing the Seminario\nPio, he ordered that the students should be taught Gregorian Chant, and\nno other. \u201cCantus Gregorianus, omni alio rejecto, tradetur.\u201d--ED. C. W.]\n\n[140] The approbation of the Missa Pap\u00e6 Marcelli was based upon the fact\nthat the music most nearly approached in gravity to the ecclesiastical\nsong, not that it was better.\n\n[141] It may not be unworthy of remark that the composers of modern\nchurch music have uniformly thought a different style of composition\nbecoming, whenever occasion required the introduction of a _sham prayer_\ninto their operas; as may be seen in Mozart\u2019s chorus of Egyptian priests\nin the _Zauberfl\u00f6te_, and many other similar instances. To real prayer,\nand to the true adorable sacrifice, it is the operatic effects that are\nexclusively dedicated, as in Mozart\u2019s No. XII. and Haydn\u2019s No. II.\n\n[142] The following anecdote is told in the Breviary lections of S. Felix\nof Valois, founder of the Congregation of the Most Holy Trinity for the\nRedemption of Captives (his day occurs the 20th of November):\n\n\u201cS. Felix received a remarkable favor from the Blessed Virgin Mother.\nAll the brethren remaining asleep, and, by the disposition of God, not\nrising for the celebration of Matins, which were to have been recited\nat midnight on the Vigil of the Blessed Mother\u2019s Nativity, Felix awoke,\nas was his custom, and entering into the choir before the time, found\nthere the Blessed Virgin herself, clothed in a habit marked with the\ncross of the order, and in company with a number of angels habited in\nthe same manner. Felix, taking his place amongst them, sang through and\nfinished the entire Office, the Blessed Mother herself acting the part of\nprecentor.\u201d--_Breviarium Romanum._\n\nThis is but one specimen, among the many others which are to be found in\nchurch history, of the light in which angels and saints regard the chant\nof the Ritual.\n\n[143] Mgr. Parisis continues: \u201cMy dear friends and brethren, we have\nourselves never precisely seen these sweet days of the faith; but in our\nvery early youth we seem to have caught, as it were, their last twilight;\nwe well remember that the sounds which first caught our ear were the\nsweet melodies of the Liturgy, and during that Reign of Terror when they\nwere banished from the churches, we bless God with all our heart on\nrecollecting the holiday evenings when we were rewarded by being allowed\nto sing with the family the touching mysteries of the Divine Son of Mary,\nat one time in the language of the Church, at another in the well-known\ntongue of our religious ancestors.\u201d\n\n[144] It is a fashion to despise _unison singing_; yet the highest\nauthorities in the church have given it their decided preference. The\nPontiffs John XXII. and Benedict XIV. have recommended unison singing\nto the whole church as the fittest; Abbot Gerbert and Cardinal Bona\nrecognize its superiority; Mgr. Parisis says, \u201cWe speak here exclusively\nof _unison singing, because it is this that best suits the church_.\u201d\nConceit and fashion may be and most probably are at the bottom of such\na feeling of contempt; and of course where the singing is confined to\na limited number, individuals will naturally wish for an opportunity\nof displaying their own little talent. \u201cOmnium hominum,\u201d is Guido of\nArezzi\u2019s experience, \u201cfatuissimi cantores.\u201d S. Bernard says: \u201cThat new\ncanticle, which it will be given to virgins alone to sing in the kingdom\nof God, there is no one who doubts but that the Queen of Virgins herself\nwill be the first to sing; and I think that, besides that song peculiar\nto virgins, and which is common to her with others, she will delight\nthe city of God with some still sweeter and more beautiful song, the\nexquisite melody of which no other virgin will be found worthy to sing,\nsave her only who may boast of having given birth, and that to God\u201d (II.\nHomily on _Missus est Gabriel_). Now the song here spoken of will be in\n_unison_.\n\n[145] The Empress Catherine of Russia, as well as the King of Denmark,\nwas in the habit of sending every year for a supply of these pears. They\nare in less demand now, like many other things once valued.\n\n[146] We were shown some of these curious boxes at S. Oren\u2019s Priory.\nThe straw of different colors is woven in figures, giving the effect of\na kind of mosaic, or cloth of gold, according to the quality. The nuns\nformerly made candlesticks for the altar in this way, which were both\nunique and beautiful.\n\n[147] There are in the canton 47,868 Catholics, of whom 25,000 are\nforeigners; and 43,639 Protestants, of whom only 9,000 are foreigners. So\nthat the Protestant electors numbered 10,000 against 16,000.\n\n[148] Waiter.\n\n[149] On the relative modes see THE CATHOLIC WORLD for May, 1874, p. 179.\n\n[150] This same subject has been developed under another form in THE\nCATHOLIC WORLD for January, 1875, p. 495 _et seq._\n\n[151] Which is still extant.\n\n[152] The following is another interesting passage from a fragment of\nKirke White:\n\n    \u201cHark, how it falls! and now it steals along,\n      Like distant bells upon the lake at eve,\n    When all is still; and now it grows more strong,\n      As when the choral train their dirges weave,\n    Mellow and many-voic\u2019d; where every close\n    O\u2019er the old minster-roof in echoing waves reflows.\n\n    \u201cOh! I am rapt aloft. My spirit soars\n      Beyond the skies, and leaves the stars behind.\n    Lo! angels lead me to the happy shores,\n      And floating p\u00e6ans fill the buoyant wind.\n    Farewell! base earth, farewell! my soul is freed;\n    Far from its clayey cell it springs.\u201d\n\nIt is remarkable, also, that Goethe represents Faust as in the very act\nof swallowing poison, to escape from the miseries of life, when the song\nof an Easter hymn, sung in procession, falls upon his ear, and charms\naway the thought of suicide.\n\n[153] Vol i. p. 250.\n\n[154] _Leaders of Public Opinion in Ireland_, p. 120.\n\n[155]\n\n    Hac arte Pollux et vagus Hercules\n    Euisus arces attigit igneas.--_Hor._ Carm. iii. 3.\n\n[156] We are indebted for the principal portion of the events mentioned\nin this sketch to the beautiful narrative lately published by the Rev.\nGiovanni Spillmann, S.J.\n\n[157] The words _soulier_ and _savate_ mean _shoe_, and _old shoe_.\n\n[158] The arms of Lourdes consist of three golden towers, the central\none bearing an eagle with a silver trout in its mouth, referring to the\nlegend of the fish brought by an eagle during the siege and dropped on\nthe highest point of the castle, still known as the _Pierre de l\u2019Aigle_.\nMirat hastened to send it to Charlemagne as a proof his _vivier_ still\nfurnished good fish.\n\nBernard, Count of Bigorre, with his wife Cl\u00e9mence, went on a pilgrimage\nto Notre Dame de Puy in the year 1062, and there consecrated himself and\nhis province to the Virgin, in presence of the chapter and many lords,\namong whom was Arnaud Guillaume de Barbazan. Moreover, he agreed to pay\nher a tribute of sixty sols annually.\n\n[159] In the archives of the Tower of London we read: \u201cNo. 9 de\nconcedendo Joanni de Bearn armigero, custodiam castri de Lourdes et\npatri\u00e6 de Bigorre, nec non officium senescalci\u00e6; de Bigorre, teste Rege,\nWestminster, 20 Januarii, 1383.\u201d\n\n[160] The poet Musset thus sings of the Artist-Princess:\n\n                    \u201cCe na\u00eff g\u00e9nie\n    Qui courait \u00e0 sa m\u00e8re au doux nom de Marie,\n    Sur son \u0153uvre ch\u00e9ri, penchant son front r\u00eaveur\n    A la fille des champs qui sauva sa Patrie\n    Pr\u00eate sa pi\u00e9t\u00e9, sa grace et sa pudeur.\u201d--\n\n                    \u201cThis simple genius,\n    Who, at the sweet name of Marie, to her mother ran--\n    To the daughter of the fields, the deliverer of her country,\n    Lends her own piety, modesty, and grace.\u201d\n\n[161] The writer is indebted to M. l\u2019Abb\u00e9 Huot for portions of the\nforegoing.\n\n[162] By the help of God and S. Peter, I swear to be good and loyal to\nthe town; to seek its welfare and avert all evil; to take counsel in\ndoubt, do justice to the small as well as the great; as former mayors\nhave done, and better if I know. So help me God and S. Peter.\n\n[163] Article--\u201cDominique de Gourgues.\u201d\n\n[164] This church was sacked and burned by the Huguenots. De Gourgues can\nhardly have sympathized with the destroyers of his mother\u2019s tomb, to say\nnothing of several generations of ancestors.\n\n[165] See Letters of Charles IX., Catherine de M\u00e9dicis, and M. de\nFourquevaulx ambassador at Madrid, published by the Marquis Duprat.\n\n[166] Evidently for ship provisions.\n\n[167] \u201cLetter of the Bishop of Orleans to the Catholic\nCommittee.\u201d--_Univers_, January 7, 1872.\n\n[168] See the number of February, 1875--\u201cEducation on the Radical Plan.\u201d\n\n[169] Laboulaye\u2019s measure concerning higher instruction. The reporter\nrecognizes in it the right of families themselves to choose tutors for\ntheir children, and also the right of associations formed with the view\nof instruction.\n\n[170] A recent speech delivered at Belleville by the leader of French\nliberalism, M. Gambetta, gives a sufficiently exact idea of this kind of\ncivil constitution. See the political journals of April 26, 1875.\n\n[171] _Ancienne et nouvelle discipline de l\u2019Eglise touchant les b\u00e9n\u00e9fices\net les b\u00e9n\u00e9ficiers_, 2\u1d49 part., liv. ii. ch. 26, 27; 3\u1d49 part., liv. ii.\nch. 18-23.\n\n[172] _Conc. Trid._, sess. xxii. _de reform._, cap. 18.\n\n[173] \u201cQu\u00e6 omnia, atque alia ad hanc opportuna et necessaria, episcopi\nsinguli, cum consilio duorum canonicorum seniorum et graviorum, quos\nipsi elegerint, prout Spiritus Sanctus suggesserit, constituent; eaque\nut semper observentur, s\u00e6pius visitando, operam dabunt.\u201d--_Conc. Trid._,\nloc. cit.\n\n[174] \u201cPietas ad omnia utilis est, pro missionem habens vit\u00e6 qu\u00e6 nunc\nest, et futur\u00e6.\u201d--1 Tim. iv. 8.\n\n[175] _Summ. Theol._, 1. 2. q. xc., art. 3.\n\n[176] We quote at length the remarkable passage from which these words\nare quoted. It occurs in an allocution of the Holy Father to the\ncardinals, delivered in the Secret Consistory, Sept. 5, 1851, in which\nhis Holiness announces the concordat which had recently been concluded\nwith the Spanish government \u201cThe great object of our solicitude was\nto secure the integrity of our holy religion and to provide for the\nspiritual wants of the church. Now, you will see, the concordat arranges\nthat the Catholic religion, with all the rights it enjoys by virtue of\nits divine institution, and of rules established by the sacred canons,\nshould be exclusively dominant in that kingdom; every other religion\nwill be openly banished from it and forbidden. It is, consequently,\nsettled that the manner of educating and instructing the youth in all\nthe universities, colleges or seminaries, in all the public and private\nschools, will be in full conformity with the doctrine of the Catholic\nreligion. The bishops and heads of dioceses, who, by virtue of their\noffice, are bound to labor with all their might to protect the purity\nof Catholic teaching, to propagate it, to watch that the youth receive\na Christian education, will find no obstacle to the accomplishment of\nthose duties; they will be able, without meeting the least hindrance, to\nexercise the most attentive superintendence over the schools, even the\npublic ones, and to discharge freely, in all its plenitude, their office\nof pastor.\u201d Is not this, in exact terms, the thesis here defended?\n\n[177] The following proposition has been condemned by Pius IX. in his\nEncyclical _Quanta cura_: \u201cOptimam societatis public\u00e6 rationem civilemque\nprogressum omnino requirere, ut humana societas constituatur et\ngubernetur, nullo habito ad religionem respectu, ac si ea non existeret,\nvel saltem nullo facto veram inter falsasque religiones discrimine.\u201d\n\n[178] Incredible as this may seem, it is nevertheless true.\n\n[179] \u201cNomine loci videtur intelligi superficies realis corporis\ncircumdantis, non tamen secundum se solum, sed prout immobilis, hoc est,\nprout est affixa tali spatio imaginario\u201d (_De Sacr. Euch._, disp. 5,\nsect. 4).\n\n[180] Loc. cit., sect. 5, n. 123.\n\n[181] Corpus Christi non est in hoc sacramento sicut in loco, sed per\nmodum substanti\u00e6.\u2026 Unde nullo modo corpus Christi est in hoc sacramento\nlocaliter.--_Summ. Theol._, p. 3, q. 76, a. 5.\n\n[182] Sed contra: omnia duo loca distinguuntur ad invicem secundum\naliquam loci contrarietatem, qua sunt sursum et deorsum, ante, retro,\ndextrum et sinistrum. Sed Deus non potest facere quod duo contraria sint\nsimul; hoc enim implicat contradictionem. Ergo Deus non potest facere\nquod idem corpus localiter sit simul in duobus locis.--_Quodlib._ 3, q.\n1, a. 2.\n\n[183] A bird in hand, etc.\n\n[184] Full title of the original publication: _Origine et Progr\u00e8s de la\nMission du Kentucky_ (Etats-Unis d\u2019Am\u00e9rique). Par un T\u00e9moin Oculaire.\nPrix, 1 fr. au profit de la Mission. A Paris: chez Adrien Le Clere,\nImprimeur de N. S. P. le Pape, et de S. E. Mgr. le Cardinal Archev\u00eaque de\nParis. Quai des Augustins, No. 35. 1821.\n\n[185] And even now, for one or two dollars an acre, fertile land can\nbe purchased in the vast extent of country watered by the Mississippi,\nthe Missouri, the Arkansas, etc.--that land which Bonaparte sold to the\nUnited States in 1801 for ten million dollars. Kentucky produces in\nabundance all sorts of grain, especially corn, and also sweet potatoes,\ntobacco, cotton, flax, hemp, and indigo. In the month of February the\ninhabitants tap the maple tree, in order to procure a liquid which they\nboil until it is reduced to syrup or sugar. The wild grape-vine grows to\nthe height of thirty or forty feet, but the grapes are small and the wine\nacrid; moreover, Americans do not understand the culture of the vine.\n\n[186] When it is necessary to cross a desert, or when the guide loses his\nway in the forest--which is of frequent occurrence--then the missionaries\nare obliged to spend the night in the woods, to sleep on the ground near\na large fire, by the light of which they read their Breviary.\n\n[187] The city of Detroit and the church were accidentally burned\nseventeen years ago. The city was afterwards rebuilt and captured by\nthe English, assisted by the savages, during the last war with the\nUnited States. Since the conclusion of peace there has been a cathedral\nbuilt, to which the Sovereign Pontiff has attached an episcopal seat\nin perpetuity. The missions of Michigan, Illinois, Missouri, and Post\nVincennes were then almost entirely formed of French Canadians. With\nregard to all the territory mentioned in this narrative, one can consult\nM. Arrowsmith, an American geographer, whose work can be found in Paris\nat Dezauche\u2019s, Rue des Noyers, No. 40.\n\n[188] Several years previous M. Badin, after having received the vows of\na few pious persons, and having had donated to him a hundred acres of\nland, had a monastery built for the same purpose; but as it was a frame\nbuilding, it was, through the carelessness of the workmen, burnt before\nbeing completed.\n\n[189] We here submit an extract from an English letter written the 15th\nof March, 1820, by Father Fenwick to the author of this notice: \u201cI hope\nthat this will find you in good health and on the point of returning\nto America. It will be a great pleasure for me to see you again and to\nhear from your lips the particulars of your trip. If possible, bring me\nhome some pictures. With gratitude would I receive some for the altars\nof the Blessed Virgin and S. Joseph, as also any other church furniture\nor books, such as the lives of the saints of the Order of S. Dominic\nby Father Touron, the history of the miracles of the holy fathers, or\nany other works on those subjects. If you saw my relative, M. J. F., I\nflatter myself sufficiently to hope that you remembered me to him, and\nthat you laid before him the needs of my mission. We have built three\nchurches, and only for one of these three do we possess sufficient\nornaments and other articles necessary for divine service.\u201d\n\n[190] We have to-day in the United States five bishops of French origin:\nBishop Mar\u00e9chal, born at Ingr\u00e9, in the Diocese of Orleans, third\narchbishop of Baltimore; Bishop Cheverus, of Paris, first bishop of\nBoston; Bishop Flaget, born in Auvergne, bishop of Kentucky, and Bishop\nDavid, of the Diocese of Nantes, his coadjutor; and, finally, Bishop\nDubourg, bishop of Louisiana and the Floridas, who resides in St. Louis\non the Mississippi, in the State of Missouri. The see of Philadelphia\nbecame vacant by the death of Bishop Egan, and that of New York is\noccupied by Bishop Connelly, an Irishman of the Order of S. Dominic. The\nnumber of American bishops is continually increasing. New Orleans and\nthe Floridas are too far from St. Louis; the Dioceses of Baltimore and\nBardstown are too extensive; and, moreover, the number of Catholics is\ndaily increasing, in consequence of the immigrations from Europe and from\nconversions.\n\n[191] By his writings you can judge the man; and we can give you no\nbetter idea of the mildness, humility, and modesty of the Bishop of\nBardstown than by inserting here extracts from several letters which he\nwrote from Baltimore to his vicar-general in Kentucky. His zeal, his\ndisinterestedness, and his self-abnegation are equalled only by his\nconfidence in divine Providence: \u201cGod be my witness that I do not desire\nriches; and I would a thousand times rather die than be attacked by this\ncraving. The less we possess, the less worried will we be with regard to\nit; but there are some things necessary, and it is upon you that I depend\nto procure them for me. I must rely upon the friendship which you have\nfor me to ask you, my dear M. Badin, henceforth to provide for my wants.\nAfter all, you desired it; for if it had not been for you, I would never\nhave been made bishop. We will have eight or nine trunks filled with\nbooks and other articles. The distance is great and transportation very\nhigh; the trip and the transportation will cost more than 4,000 francs,\nand we have not a cent. We can only wait until Providence comes to our\nrescue. To lessen my expenses I will leave the servant who offers me his\nservices in Baltimore; and I would even leave my books there, did I not\nconsider them essential to our establishment. In order not to increase\nyour expenses I will only bring with me M. David, and we will both be but\ntoo happy to share your mode of life, however humble it may be. If the\nbishopric had only presented difficulties of this nature, I would not\nhave hesitated so long before accepting it. Providence calls me to it\ndespite myself, and it was useless for me to travel over land and sea in\norder to evade this charge. All my trouble was lost. God seems to exact\nit of me that I bow my head to this weighty yoke, even though it should\ncrush me. Alas! should I stop sufficiently long to consider my weakness\nand my troubles, I would fall into despair, and hardly would I dare take\none step in the vast career that is opening before me. To reassure myself\nit is necessary that I frequently recall to mind that I did not install\nmyself in this important post, and that all my earthly superiors in a\nmanner forced me to accept it.\u201d\n\nFrom Baltimore, where he had more than one hundred miles by land and\nthree hundred miles by water over which to travel to arrive at Bardstown,\nhe writes thus: \u201cRemember that for the use of seven or eight we have\nbut one horse, which I destine for M. David, as he is the least active\namong us. For myself and the other gentlemen, we will go on foot with\nthe greatest pleasure, if there is the least difficulty in travelling\notherwise. This pilgrimage will please me exceedingly, and I do not\nthink it derogatory to my dignity. I leave it all to your judgment, and\nI would be very glad to have sufficient money to join you at Louisville;\nthe remainder of the journey will be entirely at your expense. That the\nwill of God be done, I would a thousand times prefer going on foot rather\nthan to cause the slightest murmur; and you did very well to recall the\nsubscription which had been started for my benefit, as it would only have\ntended to alienate people from me. It was, however, but right that people\nanxious to have a bishop among them should furnish him means to reach\nthem. There is nothing I would not do for the sanctification of my flock.\nMy time, my work, my life even, is consecrated to it; and, finally, it\nwill only remain for me to say that I am \u2018an unprofitable servant, having\ndone only that which I ought to do.\u2019\u201d\n\nDivine Providence, whose intervention he had merited by his zeal and his\nresignation, supplied, as if by miracle, in some invisible way, the needs\nof the prelate, who on the 11th of June, 1811, arrived at St. Etienne,\nthe residence of M. Badin, with two priests and four scholastics. There\nhe found the faithful on their knees singing holy canticles, the women\nnearly all robed in white, and some of them still fasting, although it\nwas then four o\u2019clock in the afternoon, as they hoped to assist at his\nMass and receive Holy Communion from his hands that very day. An altar\nhad been erected under some shrubbery to afford a shade where the bishop\nmight rest himself. After the Asperges he was conducted in procession to\nthe chapel, the Litany of the Blessed Virgin being sung meanwhile; and\nthen followed the ceremonies and prayers prescribed in the Pontifical\nfor such an occasion. M. Badin lived in a little frame house, and, in\nconsequence of the expenses incurred to rebuild the burned monastery\nof which we have already spoken, he with difficulty was able to build\ntwo miserable little huts, sixteen feet square, for his illustrious\nfriend and the ecclesiastics who accompanied him. Finally, one of the\nmissionaries slept on a mattress in the attic of this whitewashed\nepiscopal palace, whose sole furniture consisted of one bed, six chairs,\ntwo tables, and the shelves for a library. The bishop resided here one\nyear, and he considered himself happy to live thus in the midst of\napostolic poverty.\n\n[192] The Dominican Fathers, assisted by their novices, with their own\nhands performed a great deal of the work on their monastery and the\nbeautiful church of S. Rose. Like them, the scholastics afterwards made\nbricks and lime, cut the wood, etc., to build that of S. Thomas, the\nseminary, and convent of Nazareth. The poverty of our establishment\nforces them to devote their hours of recreation to this work. Every day\nthey spend three hours in gardening, in working in the fields or in the\nwoods. Nothing could be more frugal than their table, and that of the two\nbishops is no better; pure water from a spring is their ordinary drink.\nNeither could anything be more humble than their clothing--imagine fifty\npoor scholastics who are obliged to cover themselves with rags, and to\nborrow decent clothes with which to appear in the town.\n\nBishop Flaget hopes that pious and charitable persons who are not able to\nsend him money for his cathedral will endeavor to send clothes or books\nnecessary for the studies and the clothing of his beloved scholastics.\n\n[193] Since the appointment of Bishop Dubourg to St. Louis, the too\ndistant mission of Illinois, which was part of the Diocese of Bardstown,\nhas been attended by this prelate, whose residence is in the vicinity.\n\n[194] Eight of these buildings are brick and stone, and the others frame.\n\n[195] Besides the bishops and the missionaries, the students and servants\nin the seminaries and convents are included in this number.\n\n[196] Here rest the bones of Blessed Brother Claus von der Fl\u00fce, placed\nhere when this church was built, anno 1679.","title":"The Catholic World, Vol. 21, April, 1875, to September, 1875: A Monthly Magazine of General Literature and Science","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":490564}