{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_54617/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_54617","id":"gutenberg_54617","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/54617","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Essays, Letters & Speeches","Category: Journals","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. XXII.\n                     OCTOBER, 1875, TO MARCH, 1876.\n\n                                NEW YORK:\n                     THE CATHOLIC PUBLICATION HOUSE,\n                            9 Warren Street.\n                                  1876.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS.\n\n\n    Allegri\u2019s Miserere, 562.\n    Anglicans, Old Catholics, and the Conference at Bonn, 502.\n    Anti-Catholic Movements in the United States, 810.\n    Apostolic Mission to Chili, The, 548.\n    Are You My Wife? 13, 194, 309, 590, 735.\n\n    Basques, The, 646.\n    Birth-Place of S. Vincent de Paul, 64.\n\n    Castlehaven\u2019s Memoirs, 78.\n    Chapter, A, in the Life of Pius IX., 548.\n    Charities of Rome, The, 266.\n    Christmas Vigil, A, 541.\n    Colporteurs of Bonn, The, 90.\n\n    Doctrinal Authority of the Syllabus, 31.\n    Duration, 111, 244.\n\n    Early Persecutions of the Christians, 104.\n    Eternal Years, The, 656, 841.\n\n    Finding a Lost Church, 282.\n    Freemasonry, 145.\n    Friends of Education, The, 758.\n    From Cairo to Jerusalem, 529.\n\n    Garcia Moreno, 691.\n    Gladstone Controversy, Sequel of the, 577, 721.\n    Grande Chartreuse, A Night at the, 712.\n\n    Historical Romance, A, 43, 162, 339, 614, 772.\n\n    Incident of the Reign of Terror, An, 260.\n    Indian Legend, 277.\n    Is She Catholic? 188.\n\n    King of Metals, The, 417.\n\n    Law of God, The, and the Regulations of Society, 223.\n    Lord Castlehaven\u2019s Memoirs, 78.\n    Lost Church, Finding a, 282.\n    Louise Lateau before the Belgian Royal Academy of Medicine, 823.\n\n    Madame\u2019s Experiment, 637.\n    Message, A, 445.\n    Midnight Mass in a Convent, 523.\n    Missions in Maine from 1613 to 1854, 666.\n    Mr. Gladstone and Maryland Toleration, 289.\n\n    Nellie\u2019s Dream on Christmas Eve, 560.\n    New Hampshire, Village Life in, 358.\n    Night at the Grande Chartreuse, A, 712.\n\n    Palatine Prelates of Rome, 373.\n    Pious Pictures, 409.\n    Power, Action, and Movement, 379.\n    Precursor of Marco Polo, A. 210.\n    President\u2019s Speech at Des Moines, The, 433.\n    President\u2019s Message, The, 707.\n    Primitive Civilization, 626.\n    Progress _versus_ Grooves, 276.\n    Protestant Episcopal Church Congress, The, 473.\n    Prussia and the Church, 678, 787.\n\n    Queen Mary, 1.\n    Questions Concerning the Syllabus, 31.\n\n    Recollections of Wordsworth, 329.\n    Reign of Terror, An Incident of the, 260.\n    Revival in Frogtown, A, 699.\n    Rome, The Charities of, 266.\n    Rome, The Palatine Prelates of, 373.\n\n    S. Agnes\u2019 Eve Story, A, 637.\n    St. Jean de Luz, 833.\n    Search for Old Lace in Venice, A, 852.\n    Sequel of the Gladstone Controversy, 577, 721.\n    Sir Thomas More, 43, 162, 339, 614, 772.\n    Songs of the People, 395.\n    Story of Evangeline in Prose, The, 604.\n    Story with Two Versions, A, 800.\n    Summary Considerations on Law, 223.\n\n    Traces of an Indian Legend, 277.\n    Tennyson\u2019s Queen Mary, 1.\n\n    Village Life in New Hampshire, 358.\n    Vincent de Paul, S., Birth-Place of, 64.\n\n    William Tell and Altorf, 127.\n    Wordsworth, Recollections of, 329.\n\n    Year, The, of Our Lord 1875, 565.\n    Yule Raps, 484.\n\n\nPOETRY.\n\n    Adelaide Anne Procter, 89.\n    \u00c6schylus, 209.\n\n    Christmas Chimes, 501.\n\n    Free Will, 559.\n\n    Not Yet, 394.\n\n    \u201cO Valde Decora!\u201d 12.\n\n    Paraphrase from the Greek, A, 222.\n    Patient Church, The, 613.\n\n    S. Philip\u2019s Home, 139.\n    S. Louis\u2019 Bell, 527.\n    Seven Fridays in Lent, The, 734.\n    Sine Labe Concepta, 357.\n    Song, 275.\n    Sonnets in Memory of the late Sir Aubrey de Vere, 444.\n    Stars, The, 126.\n    Suggested by a Cascade at Lake George, 771.\n    Summer Storms, 416.\n    Sweet Singer, A, 89.\n\n    To-day and Yesterday, 564.\n\n    Unremembered Mother, The, 110.\n\n\nNEW PUBLICATIONS.\n\n    Acta et Decreta Concilii Vaticani, 718.\n    Alcott\u2019s Eight Cousins, 431.\n    Allibert\u2019s Life of S. Benedict, 575.\n    American State and American Statesmen, 719.\n    Allies\u2019 Formation of Christendom, 858.\n    American Catholic Quarterly Review, The, 859.\n\n    Baunard\u2019s Life of the Apostle S. John, 573.\n    B\u00e9gin\u2019s Le Culte Catholique, 286.\n    B\u00e9gin\u2019s The Bible and the Rule of Faith, 288.\n    Birlinger\u2019s Volksth\u00fcmliches aus Schwaben, 718.\n    Boudon\u2019s Holy Ways of the Cross, 717.\n    Buckley\u2019s Supposed Miracles, 856.\n\n    Calderon\u2019s Groesste Dramen religi\u00f6sen Inhalts, 718.\n    Clarke\u2019s Mr. Gladstone and Maryland Toleration, 575.\n    Coleridge\u2019s Public Life of Our Lord, 717.\n    Constable and Gillies, Personal Reminiscences of, 720.\n    Cudmore\u2019s Civil Government of the States, etc., 429.\n    Correction, A, 860.\n\n    Dix\u2019s The American State and American Statesmen, 719.\n\n    Earle\u2019s Light leading unto Light, 143.\n    Eight Cousins, 431.\n    Evidences of Catholicity, 574.\n    Exposition of the Church, An, etc., 419.\n    Exposition of the Epistles of S. Paul, etc., 144.\n\n    First Annual Report of the Chaplain of the Albany Penitentiary, 144.\n    Flowers from the Garden of the Visitation, 287.\n    Formation of Christendom, The, 858.\n    Full Course of Instruction in Explanation of the Catechism, 432.\n\n    Garside\u2019s The Sacrifice of the Eucharist, 718.\n\n    Historical Scenes from the Old Jesuit Missions, 575.\n    History of the Protestant Reformation, 574.\n    Holland\u2019s Sevenoaks, 430.\n    Holy Ways of the Cross, etc., 717.\n\n    Illustrated Catholic Family Almanac, 430.\n    Indoors and Out; or, Views from the Chimney Corner, 720.\n\n    Jannet\u2019s Les Etats-Unis Contemporains, etc., 716.\n\n    Kavanagh\u2019s John Dorrien, 287.\n    Kip\u2019s Historical Scenes, 575.\n    Knight and Raikes\u2019 Personal Reminiscences, 288.\n\n    Lamb, Hazlitt, and Others, Personal Recollection of, 428.\n    Lehrbuch des Katholischen und Protestantischen Kirchenrechts, 718.\n    Lonormant\u2019s Madame R\u00e9camier and her Friends, 431.\n    Life and Letters of Paul Seigneret, 576.\n    Life of S. Benedict, 575.\n    Life of the Apostle S. John, 573.\n    Light leading unto Light, 143.\n    Lynch\u2019s (Bishop) Pastoral Letter, 576.\n\n    MacEvilly\u2019s Exposition of S. Paul\u2019s Epistles, etc., 144.\n    Manual of the Sisters of Charity, 432.\n    Manual of Catholic Indian Missionary Associations, 859.\n    Medulla Theologi\u00e6 Moralis, 574.\n    Miller\u2019s Ship in the Desert, 573.\n    Miscellanea, 432.\n    Mr. Gladstone and Maryland Toleration, 575.\n    Moriarty\u2019s Wayside Pencillings, 431.\n    Morris\u2019 The Troubles of our Catholic Forefathers, 141.\n\n    Noethen\u2019s Report of the Albany Penitentiary, 144.\n    Noethen\u2019s Thirteen Sermons, etc., 144.\n\n    Pastoral Letter of Bishop Lynch, 576.\n    Perry\u2019s Full Course of Instruction, etc., 432.\n    Persecutions of Annam, The, 719.\n    Personal Reminiscences by Knight and Raikes, 288.\n    Personal Recollections of Lamb, Hazlitt, and Others, 428.\n    Personal Reminiscences by Constable and Gillies, 720.\n    Public Life of Our Lord, 717.\n\n    Rohling\u2019s Medulla Theologi\u00e6 Moralis, 574.\n\n    Sacrifice of the Eucharist, etc., 718.\n    Sadlier\u2019s Excelsior Geography, 430.\n    Sevenoaks, 430.\n    Ship in the Desert, The, 573.\n    Shortland\u2019s The Persecutions of Annam, 719.\n    Spalding\u2019s Miscellanea, 432.\n    Spalding\u2019s Evidences of Catholicity, 574.\n    Spalding\u2019s History of the Reformation, 574.\n    Story of S. Peter, 718.\n    Supposed Miracles, 856.\n\n    Thirteen Sermons preached in the Albany Penitentiary, 144.\n    Three Pearls, The, 573.\n    Troubles of our Catholic Forefathers, The, 141.\n\n    Vering\u2019s Lehrbuch des Katholischen und Protestantischen\n        Kirchenrechts, 718.\n    Volksth\u00fcmliches aus Schwaben, 718.\n\n    Wayside Pencillings, etc., 431.\n\n    Young Catholic\u2019s Illustrated Table Book, etc., 430.\n\n\n\n\nTHE CATHOLIC WORLD.\n\nVOL. XXII., No. 127.--OCTOBER, 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\nMR. TENNYSON\u2019S QUEEN MARY.[1]\n\nMr. Tennyson has achieved a great reputation as a lyric poet. He urges\nnow a higher claim. In the sunset of a not inglorious life, when we\nshould have expected his lute to warble with waning melodies and less\nimpassioned strains, he lays it aside as too feeble for his maturer\ninspirations, and, as though renewed with the fire of a second youth, he\ndraws to his bosom a nobler instrument, and awakes the echoes of sublimer\nchords. He has grown weary of the lyric\n\n    \u201ch\u0153rentem multa cum laude coronam,\u201d\n\nand with some confidence claims the dramatic bays. Nay, he even invites a\ncomparison with Shakspere. True to the temper of the times, his prestige\nfollows him in so hazardous a competition, the accustomed wreaths are\nshowered upon him with unreflecting haste, and the facile representatives\nof the most incapable of critics--public opinion--have already offered\nhim that homage as a dramatist which had already been too lavishly\noffered to his idyllic muse.\n\nIt is an ungrateful task to go against the popular current, and it is\nan ungracious one to object to crowns which the multitude have decreed.\nBut there is no help for it, unless we would stoop to that criticism of\nprestige which is so characteristic of the age, and would follow in the\nwake of the literary rabble, criticising the works by the author, instead\nof the author by his works.\n\nWe may as well say, at once, that we have never felt it in our power\nto acknowledge the poetical supremacy of the English poet-laureate.[2]\nIt has always appeared to us that there is, in his poetry, a lack of\ninspiration. To borrow a too familiar but expressive metaphor, the coin\nis highly burnished, glitters brightly, and has the current stamp, but\none misses the ring of the genuine metal. He sits patiently on the\ntripod, dealing forth phrases as musical as Anacreon\u2019s numbers, and\nas polished as those of a Greek sophist, spiced with a refined humor,\nwhich has a special charm of its own. But his soul does not kindle at\nthe sacred fire. We miss the divine frenzy. A passionateness of love\nof the beautiful does not appear to be the quickening inspiration of\nhis creations. All alike show signs of extreme care and preparation. We\ndo not forget the counsel of Horace. But that only refers to a distant\nrevision of creations which an unchecked genius may have produced under\nthe divine influence. Whereas, Mr. Tennyson\u2019s poetry bears evidence of\ninfinite toil in production. All his thoughts, ideas, and images, down to\nwords and phrases, are too evidently, instead of the happy inspirations\nof genius, the labored workmanship of a polished, refined, and fastidious\nmind. They something resemble the _tout ensemble_ of a _petit ma\u00eetre_\nwho has succeeded in conveying to his dress an appearance of such\nconsummate simplicity and unexceptionable taste that every one notices\nthe result of hours before the mirror. His diction is pure and polished,\nhis phrases simple and nervous, and the English language owes him much\nfor what he has done towards neutralizing the injury inflicted on it\nby the gaudy phraseology of the \u201ccorrect\u201d poets, and the antithetical\nsesquipedalianism of such prose writers as Johnson and Gibbon, and\nfor preserving it in its pure and nervous simplicity. But his soul is\ndull to the poetic meanings of nature. His natural scenery is rather\ndescriptive than a creation, much as artists, of whom there are not a\nfew, who reproduce with consummate skill of imitation objects in detail,\nand bestow infinite care upon color, shade, perspective, grouping, and\nall the other technical details of a picture, whilst comparatively\nindifferent to the subject, which ought to be the poetic meaning of\ncreations of genius. And what are they but only fruitful manifestations\nof the love of the beautiful, and echoes of its creative word, not the\nmere manipulations of an artificer? Mr. Tennyson\u2019s descriptions of nature\nowe their vividness to the brilliance of word-painting and a certain\nrefined delicacy of touch; sometimes, even, and indeed very often, to a\ncertain quaint humor which is inconsistent with the highest art--it is\nnot a passionate love which regards the object beloved from a ridiculous\npoint of view--as when he describes the willows living adown the banks of\na streamlet as \u201cshock-headed pollards _poussetting_ down the stream.\u201d\n\nThe sensations provoked by his poetry resemble those of one who has\nsauntered through a museum of precious stones of rare workmanship and\npurest water. Our \u00e6sthetic taste has been pleased by the glitter and the\ncolor and the brilliance, but our mind and heart have not been deeply\nmoved. His poems are ablaze with detached thoughts of lofty meaning,\nand of a multitude of others whose meaning is not obvious, all alike\nexpressed in vivid imagery, in the purest phraseology, and in rare melody\nof rhythm. But they are confused and cabalistic. He seems to be always\nlaboring to be incomprehensible. He calls it \u201cthe riddling of the bards.\u201d\nAnd he succeeds. The problem of the Sphinx, the emblematic warning sent\nby the Scythians to their Persian invader, the mute counsel sent by the\nSamian to the Corinthian tyrant, a Delphic oracle, all were clear and\neasy by comparison with Mr. Tennyson\u2019s lyrics, alike in detached passages\nand in entire poems. None of woman born can fathom the meaning of the\n_Idylls of the King_.\n\nThis defect alone is fatal to poetry. So keenly did Spenser feel it that\nalthough the meaning of his allegory, _The Faerie Queene_, is obvious\nenough to any ordinary intelligence, he is careful to explain it in full\nin a letter dedicated to Sir Walter Raleigh.\n\nMr. Tennyson, on the contrary, involves himself in the thickest mystery\nhe can contrive, and expects his worshippers to take it for inspiration.\nTake the following, for example, from \u201cThe Coming of Arthur\u201d:\n\n    \u201cRain, rain, and sun, a rainbow in the sky!\n      A young man will be wiser by-and-by,\n    An old man\u2019s wit may wander e\u2019er he die.\n\n    \u201cRain, rain, and sun, a rainbow on the lea!\n      And truth is this to me, and that to thee\n    And truth, or clothed or naked, let it be.\n\n    \u201cRain, sun, and rain! and the free blossom blows,\n      Sun, rain, and sun! and where is he who knows?\n    From the great deep to the great deep he goes.\u201d\n\nThese are, no doubt, \u201criddling triplets,\u201d as he himself calls them. The\nriddling of Shakspere\u2019s fools, even the wanderings from the night of\ndistraught Ophelia\u2019s brain, are light itself by the side of them. We may\nwell echo his invocation of \u201cSun, rain, and sun! and where is he who\nknows?\u201d Whatever inspiration may be evident here, it is not that of the\nbeautiful. And yet even this has snatches of meaning which many passages\nwe might adduce have not; as the following, from \u201cGareth and Lynette\u201d:\n\n    \u201cKnow ye not, then, the riddling of the bards?\n    Confusion, and illusion, and relation.\n    Elusion, and occasion, and evasion?\u201d\n\nIt is almost a pity that the bard did not complete his \u201criddling\u201d while\nhe was about it. Another couplet:\n\n    Diffusion, and ablution, and abrasion.\n    Ablution, expectation, botheration,\n\nwould have rendered still more impenetrable the bardic mystery.\n\nThere is no resemblance in this studied concealment of meaning, if\nmeaning there be, to that\n\n            \u201cSacred madness of the bards\n    When God makes music through them,\u201d\n\nof which he sings. It is more like the melodious confusion of the \u00c6olian\nharp. Even if the poet have a definite meaning in his own mind, if he\nso express it that I cannot even guess it, to me it is nonsense; and\nnonsense, however melodious, although it may enchant my sense, cannot\nmove my heart. Here and there, however, our poet sings snatches of real\npoetry, as Sir Bedivere\u2019s answer to his king in \u201cThe Coming of Arthur\u201d:\n\n    \u201cI heard the water lapping on the craig\n    And the long ripple washing in the reeds.\u201d\n\nUpon the whole, Mr. Tennyson excels in a certain underlying vein of\nexquisitely refined humor. And when his subject admits of it, he is\nunrivalled. His is the poetry of humor. We would name as examples \u201cThe\nNorthern Farmer\u201d and the satirical poem, \u201cLocksley Hall,\u201d perhaps the\nmost vigorous of all his productions; and, of his longer poems, _The\nPrincess_. It is for this reason we think he is more likely to excel, as\na dramatist, in comedy than in tragedy.\n\nIf our readers would estimate the full force of our remarks, we would\ninvite them to read the works of any of the principal of our earlier\nlyrical poets, as, for example, Collins. We name him because he too\nexcels in that melody of versification for which Mr. Tennyson is so\ndistinguished. At times, as in his \u201cSonnet on Evening,\u201d he surpasses the\nLaureate in that respect, although for sustained and unfailing rhythmical\nmelody the latter bears away the palm from him, and perhaps from every\nother rival. But in profound sympathy with nature, in the fidelity of his\ncreations, in the echoes of the beautiful which he provokes within the\nsoul of the reader, the Poet-Laureate must yield to the Demy of Magdalen.\nLike Shakspere, he peopled inanimate nature with a fairy world, and\namongst elves and genii and other dainty spirits he abandoned himself to\nthat power of impersonation which is almost an attribute of a true poet.\n\nOur space does not admit of illustrative quotations, but we would refer\nthe reader inclined to institute the comparison suggested to the elegy\nover Fidele, in the play of _Cymbeline_, and to his _Eclogues_.\n\nMr. Tennyson\u2019s poetry has beauties of its own peculiar kind of so\nremarkable and striking a description that we might have hesitated to\ntake any exceptions whatsoever to his poetical genius. But his new poem,\nhis first effort in dramatic poetry, seems to us to set all doubt at\nrest. It convinces us that, for whatever reasons, of the highest flights\nof poetic inspiration Mr. Tennyson is incapable. We are convinced that he\nlacks that which constitutes a great poet. However beautiful his poetry,\nwe feel that it wants something which, however keenly we may be sensible\nof it, it is not easy either to analyze or explain.\n\nFor what is the inspiration of poetry but the echoes of the beautiful\nwithin the soul of man? The universe of things is the visible word\nof God. It is his essential beauty projected by an energy of creative\nlove--the quickening spirit opening his wings over chaos--into an\nobjective existence, on which its generator looked with complacency\nas \u201cvery good,\u201d and which he generated in order that his creature,\nwhom he had made in his own image, might, with himself, rejoice in\nits contemplation. He did not, at first, endow him with the power of\nbeholding himself \u201cface to face,\u201d but only his reflex. We have the right\nto believe that, whilst in union with his Maker, he read at a glance the\nmeaning of the word, he felt instantaneously the beauty of the image. His\nnature, into which no discord had as yet been introduced, uncondemned\nto the judgment of painful toil, did not acquire charity and knowledge\nby long and laborious processes, disciplinary and ratiocinative, but by\nintuition. Incapable as yet of the Beatific Vision, he comprehended the\nwhole of the divine beauty as revealed in creation, and the comprehension\nitself was a transport of love. He saw, and knew, and loved, and the\nthree were one simultaneous energy of the sonship of his nature. But, as\nnow, \u201cthe greatest of these was charity.\u201d It was the result and sum and\nend of the sight and knowledge. It was the feeling they inevitably and\nunremittingly occasioned. To speak as we can only speak in our actual\ncondition, it was as those thuds of loving admiration with which our\nhearts throb when we look upon some surpassing embodiment of innocent\nand modest female loveliness. When the mind, jealous of pre-eminence,\nled captive, so to speak, the heart in revolt against the revealed law,\nthe human being was no longer in union with himself, a war of impulses\nand of energies was set up within him, the image of God was defaced, his\nperception of created beauty became more and more obscure as he went\nfurther away from his original abode of innocence, until, finally, it was\nall but lost. The emotion, if we may describe it as such, which it was of\nits nature to suggest, could not perish, for it is imperishable. But it\nhad lost its true object, and surveyed knowledge in a form more or less\ndegraded.\n\nNow out of this very faint and rapid sketch of a psychological theory\nwhich would require a volume for its development, we hope to be able to\nconvey some idea, however vague, of the nature of the poetic spirit.\n\nIt is certain that the remains of the divine image have not since been\nalike and equal in all the individuals of the race. It may be asserted,\non the contrary, that there are no two human microcosms in which the\nelements of the confusion introduced into them by the original infidelity\nexist in the same proportion. Those in whom the intelligence is the\nquickest to see, and the mind, heart, and soul to love in unison, the\nimage of divine beauty revealed in creation--those, that is, in whom the\ndivine image remains the most pronouncedly--are the truest poets.\n\nWhen this echo of the soul to the beautiful does not go beyond the\nphysical creation, the inspirations of love express themselves in lyric\nor idyllic poetry. The poet imitates the divine Creator in reproducing,\neven creating, images of his lower creation so faithful and suggestive\nthat they who look upon them experience similar sensations and emotions\nto those provoked within them by the divine creation itself, nay, not\nunseldom, even profounder ones. He reveals the beautiful in similar\nimages to those in which The Beautiful revealed himself to his creature;\nhe is thus himself a \u03c0\u03bf\u03b9\u03b7\u03c4\u1f74\u03c2, or creator, and his work is a \u03c0\u03bf\u03af\u03b7\u03c3\u03b9\u03c2, or\ncreation. When his forms derive their inspiration only from the inferior\ncreation, they are exclusively some form of idyls or lyrics. But when,\nsoaring above the grosser medium of the merely material universe, and\npoising himself on wings tremulous with reverent joy at the confines\nof the invisible, his soul echoes the music of the beautiful issuing\nfrom that invisible creation; and that imitative energy which is of its\nessence, inspired by these reawakening inspirations, calls into being\npsychical individualities with their precise bodily expression and\nproper destinies--that is to say, with all the causes and results, ebb\nand flow, action and reaction, in human affairs, of every volition and\nenergy, he reproduces the highest energy of the divine creative power, he\nevokes into sensible existence whole multitudes of fresh creatures made\nin the image of God, and, what is even yet more sublime, he evokes into\nequally sensible being the particular providence which overrules each\nand all--the one difference between the two creations being that one is\noriginal, the other imitative; one imaginary--that is, _merely_ sensible;\nthe other, not only sensible, but _real_ also, and _essential_. Yet are\nthe accidents of the former produced occasionally with such extraordinary\nfidelity that they have sometimes, as in the creations of Shakspere, for\nexample, the same effect upon those who become acquainted with them as if\nthey were in truth the latter.\n\nWho that has ever studied the creations of that immortal dramatist has\nnot them all, from high to low, treasured within his inner being as\nvividly as any other of his absent acquaintances, whom he has met in\nsociety, to whom he has been formally introduced, with whom he has eaten,\ndrank, laughed, wept, walked, and conversed? Has not that remarkable\ngenius transgressed even the imitative faculty--imitative, that is,\nof all the original creative energy that is known--produced original\ncreations, and peopled the preter- rather than supernatural with beings\nwhich have no known existence, but whom nevertheless he surrounds with a\ndistinct verisimilitude which ensures them easy admission into our minds\nand hearts, which presents them to our senses as concrete beings with as\nmuch positiveness, and even as clearly defined individuality, as if they\nwere solid creatures of flesh and bone, and which makes us feel that if\nsuch beings did really exist, they would be none other than precisely\nthose he has represented?\n\nOf such sort, we take it, is the highest, or dramatic, poetry. And of\nit there is a manifest deficiency in this work, which its author terms,\nindeed, a drama, but which is in fact a tragedy.\n\nMr. Tennyson has not enough of the divine afflatus to write tragedy. If\nhe has not sufficient love of the beautiful in inanimate nature for his\nsoul to echo to it, and his heart to throb with the sense of it, with\nthe rapidity of an intuition, so as to make unattainable to him the\nhighest excellence in lyric poetry, how much more out of his reach must\nbe a first rank in the tragic drama; where, if anywhere, an intuition of\nthe beautiful amounting to an inspiration is demanded in that supreme\ncreation of God which, as the consummation of his \u201cwork\u201d and word, he has\nembodied in his own substance! In that profound and intuitive perception\nof the workings of man\u2019s inner being, of the passions, emotions,\nfeelings, appetites, their action and reaction, ebb and flow; of the\nstruggle of the two natures, its infinite variety and play of life, under\nall conceivable conditions and vicissitudes, with much more than can be\ndetailed here included in these, Mr. Tennyson is strikingly deficient.\n\nIn the tragedies of Shakspere, as in all his dramas, the distinct\npersonality of every one of the characters, high and low, is impressed\nupon us with vivid distinctness. But the principal personages in the\ntragedies dilate before us in heroic proportions as the portentous\nstruggle progresses. Whether it be King Lear, or King John, or King\nRichard, or Othello, or Lady Macbeth, or Lady Constance, or the widowed\nPrincess of Wales, or Ophelia, or whoever else, we look on with bated\nbreath, as did the spectators of the boat-race with which \u00c6neas\ncelebrated the suicide of his regal paramour, and we come away at its\nclose a prey to the storm of emotions which the magic art of the island\nsorcerer has conjured up within us.\n\nBut the drama, or tragedy, as we prefer to call it, we read with but\nlanguid interest. The psychical struggle is neither very obvious nor very\ncritical, there is no very striking revelation of the sublime beauty or\ntragic overthrow of human nature, and although the canvas is crowded\nwith figures, not one of them impresses any very distinct image of his\nor her individuality on our mind and heart. Instead of, as Shakspere\u2019s\ncreations, retaining every one of them as a distinct and intimate\nacquaintance, whom we may summon into our company at will, we rise from\nthe perusal of _Queen Mary_ without having received any very definite\nimpression of any, even the principal, personages, and we forget all\nabout them almost as soon as we have read the play.\n\nThis vital defect in a drama the author has rendered doubly fatal through\nhis having carried his imitation of Shakspere to the extent of adopting\nhis simplicity of plot. Shakspere could afford to do this. The inspired\nverisimilitude of the struggle of the two natures in every one of his\nhuman creations, the profoundness of his development of the innermost\nworking of the human microcosm, often by a few master-touches, surround\nevery one of his _dramatis person\u00e6_ with all the rapt suspense and\nsustained interest of a plot. Every one of his characters is, as it were,\na plot in itself. But it is quite certain that Mr. Tennyson--and it is no\ndepreciation of him--has not this power. He has, therefore, every right\nto call to his aid the interest of an elaborate plot, which itself would\nalso, we think, cause him to develop more vividly his characters. It is\nin this the late Lord Lytton, whose poetical pretensions are very much\nbelow Mr. Tennyson\u2019s, achieved whatever success he had as a dramatist.\nMr. Tennyson has not to depend on this solely, as was very nearly the\ncase with Lord Lytton, but it would contribute very much to a higher\nsuccess. The great dramatist he is unwise enough so avowedly to imitate\npeoples the simplest plot with a whole world of stirring destinies. He\nmoves his quickening wand, and lo! as by the master-will of a creator,\nappear a Hamlet or a Malvolio, a Lady Macbeth or a Goneril or Miranda,\nan Ariel or a Caliban, contribute their precise share to the history,\nwhich would not have been complete without them, and then disappear from\nthe scene, but never from our memory. A magic word or two has smitten\nthem into _it_, and they live for aye in our mind and heart. His heroes\nand his heroines he clothes with such a majesty of poetry that we watch\nanxiously with bated breath their every gesture, word, or look; we\ncannot bear their absence, until, entranced into their destiny, and half\nunconscious, we watch them disappear in the catastrophe, our ears are\nblank, all voices mute, the brilliant theatre is the chamber of death,\nand they who, to us, were but now living flesh and blood, in whose\ndestinies our innermost soul was rapt, have passed away, amidst a tempest\nof emotions, and are no more.\n\nBut Thucydides\u2019 _History of the Peloponnesian War_, either of the\ntwo great classic epics, or any striking historic passage in even so\nungraphic a writer as Lingard, is more dramatic than this drama. The\nfeeble plot gives birth to feebler impersonations. They come and go\nwithout making any deep impression upon us, or seizing our attention by\nany striking originality. Their features are indistinct, their actions\ninsignificant. They are bloodless and colorless. They are ghosts, things\nof air, whom a feeble incantation has summoned from their slumber, who\nmutter a few laborious Spartanisms in a renewed life in which they\nseem to have no concern, and vanish without provoking a regret, nor\neven an emotion. We observe in them such an absence of verisimilitude,\nso marked a want of truth to nature, as very much to weaken, when it\ndoes not entirely destroy, the dramatic illusion. Nowhere is this more\nobservable than where he intends most manifestly a rivalry of Shakspere.\nShakspere not unseldom introduces the multitude into his poetic history.\nBut when he does so, it seizes our interest as forcibly as his more\nimportant personages. With a few rapid touches he dashes in a few typical\nindividuals, who reveal to us vividly what the whole kind of thing is\nof which they are prominent units. They are the mob of the very time\nand place to which they belong. Whether at Rome in the time of Julius\nC\u00e6sar, or at Mantua or Verona in the Middle Ages, or in England during\nthe time of the Tudors, we feel that they act and speak just as then\nand there they might have said and done. Every one, too, has his or\nher distinct individuality. And such a verisimilitude have they that\neven an occasional anachronism, such as, in _Troilus and Cressida_,\nmaking a Trojan servant talk of _being in the state of grace_, does not\ndispel the charm. But Mr. Tennyson\u2019s mob-types have no more striking\nfeatures to seize our interest than his more exalted creations, whilst\nhis anachronisms are of a kind which send all verisimilitude to the\nwinds. Joan and Tib, and the four or five citizens, have nothing in them\nfor which they should be singled out of the very ordinary condition of\nlife to which they belong. And we are tempted to sneer when we hear an\nElizabethan mob talking like Hampshire or Yorkshire peasants of the\npresent day.\n\nFor all that, Mr. Tennyson\u2019s cockneys and rustics are not his most\nineffective portraiture. We experience a slight sensation of their\nhaving been lugged in, perhaps because of the inevitable comparison with\nShakspere they provoke, and we feel them to be too modern; but the poet\u2019s\nsense of humor here serves him in good stead, and although, in this\nrespect, immeasurably below Shakspere, he gives a kind of raciness to his\nplebeians which saves them from being an absolute failure.\n\nIt is, however, in the principal personages of the drama that we most\nmiss the Promethean fire, and pre-eminently in the hero, if Cranmer is\nintended for such a dignity, and the heroine. Amongst these, the most\nlifelike are Courtenay and Sir Thomas Wyatt; because, in their creation,\nthe peculiar vein of quaint irony and exceedingly refined humor, which is\nMr. Tennyson\u2019s most eminent distinction, comes to his aid. For the rest,\nup to the heroine herself and the canting and recanting Cranmer, they are\ncolorless and bloodless. We scarcely know one from the other. And we do\nnot care to. Noailles and Renard are but poor specimens of diplomatists.\nTheir sovereigns, were the time the present, might pick up a dozen such\nany day in Wall Street. If the poet could embody no greater conception\nof two such men as Bonner and Gardiner than a couple of vulgar,\nself-seeking, blood-thirsty knaves, he should have dispensed altogether\nwith their presence. He should have given to them some elevation,\nwhatever history may say about it. A drama is a poem, not a history; and\nthe poet may take the names of historic personages and, within certain\nlimits, fit to them creations of his own. In Cardinal Pole he had an\nopportunity for a noble ideal. But all we have is an amiable dummy, an\nold gentleman, as ordinary and ineffective as the rest.\n\nFacts have been so distorted by the influence which for so long had sole\npossession of literature, that there is plenty of room for taking great\nliberties with history. Mr. Tennyson has slightly availed himself of\nthis, but in the wrong direction. Shakspere himself could not have made\na saint of Cranmer. For poetry, there was nothing for it but to make him\na more splendid sinner. To retain all his littlenesses and to array them\nin seductive virtues, is to present us with some such figure as the dusky\nchieftains decked in gaudy tinsel that solicit our admiration in front of\nthe tobacconists\u2019 shops. To attempt to give heroic proportions to a man\nwhose profession of faith followed subserviently his self-interest until\nno hope remained, and then place in the hands of the burning criminal\nthe palm of martyrdom, is to invite the love within us of the beautiful\nand the true to echo to a psychical impossibility, and that without an\nelement of greatness.\n\nYet had the front figure of the history been a noble conception grandly\nexecuted all this might have been condoned. One might well have looked\nat them as a few rough accessories to heighten by their contrast the\nbeauty of the central form. There was place for a splendid creation. No\nmore favorable material for a tragic heroine exists than Mary Tudor--with\nthe single exception of that other Mary who fell beneath the Puritans\nlike a lily before the scythe of the destroyer. Around her history and\nperson circle all the elements of the tenderest pathos, which is of the\nvery essence of tragedy. That Shakspere did not use them is a proof\nhe thought so. For \u201cthe fair vestal throned in the west\u201d would have\nresented such a creation as his quickening genius would have called\nto life. A queen of noble nature gradually swept away by a resistless\ncurrent of untoward circumstances, is a history capable of the sublimity\nof a Greek catastrophe, with the added pathos of Christian suffering.\nBut who have we here? A silly woman, devoutly pious, and endowed with\na conspicuous share of the family courage. But she is so weak that\nher piety has the appearance of superstition, and her fits of courage\nlose their royalty and fail to rescue her from contempt. Unattractive\nin person, she falls desperately in love with a man much younger than\nherself, and her woman\u2019s love, ordinarily so quick to detect coldness in\na lover, is blind to the grossest neglect; and yet not so blind but that\na few words scrawled on a rag of paper, dropped in her way, could open\nher eyes on the spot. The tenderness of her love and the importunity of\ncruel-minded men, transform her almost suddenly from a gentle-natured\nwoman to an unrelenting human tigress. And she, who would not allow the\nlaw to take its course on her most dangerous enemies, can exclaim of her\nsister Elizabeth,\n\n                \u201cTo the Tower with _her_!\n    My foes are at my feet, and I am queen.\u201d\n\nAfterwards of Guilford Dudley, the Duke of Suffolk, and Lady Jane Grey--\n\n    \u201cThey shall die.\u201d\n\nAnd again of her sister--\n\n                            \u201cShe shall die.\n    My foes are at my feet, and Philip king.\u201d\n\nThis is not the grandness of crime, as in Richard III., or even in Lady\nMacbeth. It is the petty despotism of a weak and silly woman. There is\nno greatness of any kind about it. It is the mere triumphant chuckle\nof an amorous queen, wooing a more than indifferent husband. It is\nlittle--little enough for a comedy. There is something approaching the\ntragic in the desolation of her last moments. Calais is lost, her husband\nhates her, her people hate her. But the poet has already robbed her of\nthe dignity of her position. She has forfeited our esteem. We experience\nan ordinary sympathy with her. But her fate is only what was to be\nexpected. And the highest pathos is out of the question. When, following\nthe example of her injured mother in the play of _Henry VIII._, she\nbetakes herself to lute and song, the author insists on a comparison with\nShakspere, and beside the full notes of the Bard of Avon the petty treble\nof the Laureate pipe shrinks to mediocrity.\n\nBut the most unpardonable of Mr. Tennyson\u2019s imitations of Shakspere are\nthose in which he rings the changes on the celebrated passage about \u201cno\nItalian priest shall tithe nor toll in our dominions,\u201d which inevitably\nprovokes the applause of those amongst a theatrical audience who do not\nknow what it means--unpardonable, because it makes even Shakspere himself\nas ridiculous as a poor travesty cannot fail to do. He was content with\none such passage throughout his many plays. If Terence had filtered\nthe noble sentiment of his celebrated passage, \u201cEgo homo sum, et nihil\nhumanum a me alienum,\u201d through a variety of forms, it would have excited\nthe laughter instead of the plaudits of the Roman \u201cgods.\u201d But the author\nof _Queen Mary_ is not afraid to pose _his_ sentiment, itself borrowed\nin no less than three different attitudes in one play; committing the\nadditional absurdity of thrusting it, like a quid of tobacco, into the\ncheek of two different personages. Gardiner uses it twice, Elizabeth once:\n\n            \u201cYet I know well [says the former]\n    Your people \u2026\n    Will brook nor Pope nor Spaniard here to play\n    The tyrant, or in commonwealth or church\u201d;\n\nand again, with questionable taste:\n\n    \u201cAnd see you, we shall have to _dodge_ again,\n    And let the Pope trample our rights, and plunge\n    His _foreign fist_ into our island church,\n    To plump the leaner pouch of Italy\u201d;\n\nwhilst Elizabeth is made to vulgarize it beyond hope of redemption into a\nmere petty ebullition of splenetic womanly vanity:\n\n    \u201cThen, Queen indeed! No foreign prince or priest\n    Should fill my throne, myself upon the steps.\u201d\n\nIt must be owned, indeed, that this play lacks the highest poetry in\nits expression as much as in its conception. We occasionally come\nacross passages of vivid and vigorous limning, as Count Feria\u2019s reply\nto Elizabeth towards the end of the play, and Howard\u2019s description to\nthe Lord Mayor of the state of mind of the citizens. But even the force\nof this latter passage is not dramatic. There is none of the rush and\nmovement of an excited populace. There are a few striking groups. But\nthey are inactive. Theirs is a kind of dead life, if we may be pardoned\nsuch an expression. Rather, they are mere _tableaux vivants_. They\ninspire us with no fear for Mary\u2019s throne. More near to dramatic power\nand beauty is Elizabeth\u2019s soliloquy at Woodstock, suddenly lowered in the\nmidst of its poetry, even to nursery familiarity, by the introduction of\nsuch a phrase as \u201ccatch me who can.\u201d\n\nBut for one single effort of the highest poetic flight we look in vain.\n\nEven the few snatches of his lyre which he introduces fail to woo us.\nThey are not natural. If they are poetry, it is poetry in a court-dress.\nIt is rich with brocade, and the jewels glitter bravely; it treads\ndelicately, but its movements are artificial and constrained. Compare,\nfor example, the song of the Woodstock milkmaid, wherein labor is visible\nin every line, with those gushes of nature with which the poet\u2019s soul\nwould seem to be bubbling over the brim of the visible in the various\nlyrical snatches of Ariel or with the song of Spring at the end of\n_Love\u2019s Labor Lost_.\n\nBut what has more surprised us than the lack of the poetic inspiration in\nthis drama is the occasional want of correct taste in a writer of such\nexceeding polish as Mr. Tennyson. Such a speech as\n\n    \u201cAnd God hath blest or cursed me with a nose--\n    Your boots are from the horses,\u201d\n\nshould not have been put in the mouth of a lady, still less a lady of the\nrank of Elizabeth, and that the less when she appeals to our sympathies\nfrom a kind of honorable imprisonment.\n\nLady Magdalen Dacres may have beat King Philip with a staff for insulting\nher, and have remained a lady, but we do not want to be told, in the\nmidst of dramatic pathos,\n\n    \u201cBut by God\u2019s providence a good stout staff\n    Lay near me; and you know me strong of arm;\n    I do believe I lamed his Majesty\u2019s.\u201d\n\nIs our poet, again, so barren of invention that he could find no other\nway of portraying Philip\u2019s indifference to his Queen than the following:\n\n                \u201cBy S. James, I do protest,\n    Upon the faith and honor of a Spaniard,\n    I am vastly grieved to leave your Majesty.\n    Simon, is supper ready?\u201d\n      \u201cRENARD--Ay, my liege,\n    I saw the covers laying.\u201d\n      \u201cPHILIP--Let\u2019s have it.\u201d\n\nWhatever may be the character he may have wished to depict in Philip, we\nexpect a Spanish king to be a gentleman. And such an ending of a scene\nsusceptible of the tenderest pathos, where the heroine and another of the\nprincipal personages of the drama are in presence, argues a wonderful\ndulness of perception of the beautiful.\n\nWorse than all, however, is his treatment of Cardinal Pole.\n\nShakspere puts a few words of Latin into the mouth of Cardinal Wolsey\nin a scene in _Henry VIII._, in which he and Cardinal Campeggio are\nendeavoring to bend the queen to the king\u2019s will. But it is a wonderful\ntouch of nature. It is one of those profound intuitions for which the\ngreat dramatist is so distinguished. So seemingly simple an incident\nreveals, at a touch, as it were, the preoccupation of Wolsey\u2019s mind, and\nthe hollowness at once and difficulty of the duty he had suffered to\nbe imposed upon him. They had paid her ostensibly a private visit, as\nfriends. But Wolsey, oppressed with the difficulty of his undertaking,\nand meditating how he should set about it, forgets himself, the old habit\ncrops up, and he begins as if he were beginning a formal ecclesiastical\ndocument:\n\n    \u201cTanta est erga te mentis integritas, regina serenissima.\u201d\n\nIt is a slip. The queen stops him. He recollects himself, and we hear no\nmore Latin.\n\nBut in this drama the poet literally makes a cardinal, and such a\ncardinal as Pole, address Queen Mary with the angelic salutation to the\nBlessed Virgin, and in Latin:\n\n    \u201cAve Maria, gratia plena, benedicta tu in mulieribus!\u201d\n\nUpon the whole, the defects of this drama are so many and so serious, so\nradical and fundamental, that no competent criticism can pronounce it\nother than a failure; and a failure more complete than would have been\nthought possible to a poet of so great a reputation as Mr. Tennyson.[3]\n\n\n\u201cO VALDE DECORA!\u201d\n\n    Could I but see thee, dear my love!\n      That face--but once! Not dazzling bright--\n    Not as the blest above\n      Behold it in God\u2019s light--\n\n    But as it look\u2019d at La Salette;\n      Or when, in Pyrenean wild,\n    It beam\u2019d on Bernadette,\n      The favor\u2019d peasant child.\n\n    Once seen--a moment--it would blind\n      These eyes to beauty less than thine:\n    And where could poet find\n      Such theme for song as mine?\n\n    But if I ask what may not be,\n      So spell me with thy pictur\u2019d face\n    That haunting looks from thee\n      May hold me like a grace.\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 IX.\n\nAnd now a new life began for Franceline.\n\n\u201cYou must fly from idleness as from sin,\u201d Father Henwick said; \u201cyou must\nnever let a regret settle on your mind for an instant. It will often be\nhard work to resist them; but we are here to fight. You must shut the\ndoor in the face of idle thoughts by activity and usefulness. I will\nhelp you in this. You must set to work amongst the poor; not so as to\nfatigue yourself, or interfere with your duties and occupations at home,\nbut enough to keep you busy and interested. At first it will be irksome\nenough, I dare say; but never mind that. By and by the effort will bring\nits own reward, and be a pleasure as well as a duty.\u201d\n\nHe sat down and wrote out a time-table for her which filled up every hour\nof the day, and left not one moment for brooding. There were visits to\nthe cottages and a class for children in the morning; the afternoon hours\nwere to be devoted to helping her father, writing and copying for him,\nsometimes copying MSS. for Father Henwick, with no other purpose than to\nkeep her mind and her fingers occupied.\n\nBut when the excitement caused by this change in her daily routine\nsubsided, something of the first heart-sinking returned. Do what she\nwould, thought would not be dumb. The external activity could not\nsilence the busy tongues of her brain or deafen her to their ceaseless\nwhisperings. It was weary work staggering on under her load, while memory\ntugged at her heart-strings and dragged its longings the other way. It\nwas hard not to yield to the temptation now and then of sitting down by\nthe wayside to rest and look back towards the Egypt that was for ever\nout of sight. But Franceline very seldom yielded to the treacherous\nallurement. When she caught herself lapsing into dreams, she would rise\nup with a resolute effort, and shake off the torpor, and set to work at\nsomething. When the torpor changed to a sting of anguish, she would steep\nher soul in prayer--that unfailing opiate of the suffering spirit, its\nchloroform in pain.\n\nOne day, about three weeks after Father Henwick\u2019s return, she was coming\nhome through the wood after her morning\u2019s round amongst the cottages.\nShe was very tired in mind and body. It was dull work dinning the\nmultiplication-table into Bessy Bing\u2019s thick skull, and teaching her\nunnimble fingers to turn the heel of a stocking; to listen to the widow\u2019s\nendless lamentations over \u201cthe dear departed\u201d and the good old times when\nthey killed a pig every year, and always had a bit of bacon on the rack.\nFranceline came to the old spot where she used to sit and listen to the\nconcert of the grove. The songsters were nearly all silent now, for the\ngreen was turning gold; but the felled tree was lying in the same place,\nand tempted her to rest a moment and watch the sun shooting his golden\nshafts through the wilderness of stems all round. Another moment, and she\nwas in dreamland; but the spell had scarcely fallen on her when it was\nbroken by the sound of footfalls crushing the yellow leaves that made\na carpet on every path. She started to her feet, and walked on. A few\nsteps brought her face to face with Father Henwick. He greeted her with a\njoyous exclamation.\n\n\u201cHere comes my little missionary! What has she been doing to-day?\u201d\n\n\u201cShe has achieved a great conquest; she has arrived at making Bessy Bing\napprehend the problem that seven times nine and nine times seven produce\none and the same total,\u201d replied Franceline with mock gravity.\n\nFather Henwick laughed; but the tired expression of her face did not\nescape him.\n\n\u201cI am afraid you will be growing too conceited if this sort of thing goes\non,\u201d he said. \u201cBut you must not overdo it, my dear child; it won\u2019t do to\nwear yourself out in gaining arithmetical triumphs.\u201d\n\n\u201cBetter wear out than rust out.\u201d And Franceline shrugged her shoulders;\nshe had learned the expressive French trick from her father.\n\nThe priest bent his clear eyes on her for a second without speaking. She\nread, disappointment, and perhaps mild reproach, in them.\n\n\u201cI am sorry I said that, father; I did not mean to complain.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy are you sorry?\u201d\n\n\u201cBecause it was cowardly and ungrateful.\u201d\n\n\u201cTo whom?\u201d\n\n\u201cTo you, who are so kind and so patient with me!\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd who bids me be kind? Who teaches me to be patient with you?--poor\nlittle bruised lamb!\u201d\n\n\u201cI know it, father; I feel it in the bottom of my heart; but one can\u2019t\nalways be remembering.\u201d There was the slightest touch of impatience in\nher tone.\n\n\u201cHow if God were some day to grow tired of remembering us, and bearing\nwith us, and forgiving us?\u201d\n\n\u201cI know. But I am not rebelling; only sickening and suffering. You\nhave told me there was no sin in that?\u201d The words came tremulous, as\nif through rising tears; but Franceline raised her head with a defiant\nmovement, and forced the briny drops down. \u201cI cannot help it!\u201d she\ncontinued impetuously; \u201cI have tried my best, and I cannot help it!\u201d\n\nFather Henwick heaved an almost inaudible sigh before he said: \u201cWhat\ncannot you help, Franceline? Suffering?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo! I don\u2019t care about that! Remembering I cannot forget.\u201d\n\n\u201cMy poor child! would to God I could help you! I would suffer willingly\nin your place!\u201d The words came like a gush from his inmost heart. They\nbroke down the sufferer\u2019s proud resistance and let the tears have vent.\nHe turned to walk back with her. For some time neither spoke; only the\nsoft sobs that came unchecked from Franceline broke the temple-like\nstillness of the wood. Suddenly she cried out in a tone of passionate\ndesperation: \u201cO father! it is dreadful. It will kill me if it lasts\nmuch longer! The humiliation is more than I can bear! To feel that I am\nharboring a feeling that my whole soul rebels against, that is revolting\nin the eyes of God and of my conscience! And I cannot master it!\u201d\n\n\u201cYou will never master it by pride, Franceline; that very pride is your\ngreatest hindrance in setting your heart free. Try and think more of God\nand less of yourself. There is no sin, as you say, in the suffering, any\nmore than, if you strayed to the edge of a precipice in the dark, and\nfell over and were killed, you would be guilty of suicide. The sinfulness\nnow is in your rebellion against the suffering simply because it wounds\nyour pride.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is not all pride, father,\u201d she said meekly. Presently she turned and\nlooked up at him through wet lashes. \u201cFather, I must tell you something,\u201d\nshe said, speaking with a sort of timidity that was unusual with her\ntowards him--\u201ca thought that came to me this morning that never came to\nme before.\u2026\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat was it?\u201d\n\n\u201cIf his wife should die \u2026 he would be free?\u201d\n\nA dark shadow fell now on Father Henwick\u2019s large, smooth brow. Franceline\nread his answer in the frown and the averted gaze; but he spoke soon,\nthough he did not look at her.\n\n\u201cThat was a sinful thought! You should have cast it behind you with\ncontempt. Has it come to that with you, that you could look forward to\nthe death of any one as a thing to be longed for?\u201d\n\n\u201cI did not long for it. The thought came to me.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou should have hunted it out of your mind like an evil spirit, as it\nwas. You must never let it near you again. _He_ should be to you as if\nhe were already dead. Whether his wife dies or not should not, and does\nnot, concern you. Besides, how do you know whether she is not as young as\nyourself, and stronger? My child, such a thought as that would lead you\nto the brink of an abyss, if you listened to it.\u201d\n\n\u201cI never will again, father,\u201d she answered promptly. \u201cI hardly know now\nwhether I listened to it or not; only I could not help telling you.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou were right to tell me; and now banish it, and never let it approach\nyou again.\u201d\n\nAfter a pause he resumed:\n\n\u201cYou are sure that silence is best with M. de la Bourbonais?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! yes. How can you ask me, father?\u201d And Franceline looked up in\nsurprise.\n\n\u201cYet it cannot remain a secret from him for ever; he is almost certain to\nhear of it sooner or later, and it might save him a severe shock if he\nheard it from you. It would set his mind at rest about you?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is quite at rest at present on that score. He has no idea that the\ndiscovery would be likely to affect me.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are better able to judge of that, of course, than I am. But it\ngrieves me to see you have a secret from your father; I wish it could be\navoided.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut it cannot; indeed it cannot!\u201d she repeated emphatically. \u201cYou may\ntrust me to speak, if I thought it could be done without injury to both\nof us. It is much better to wait; perhaps by the time it comes to his\nears I may be able to hear him speak of it without betraying myself and\npaining him.\u201d\n\nFather Henwick acquiesced, but reluctantly. He hoped she was right in\nsupposing M. de la Bourbonais quite blind to what had been so palpable\nto a casual observer. But, making even the fullest allowance for the\nabsent-minded habits of the studious man, this seemed scarcely probable.\nFranceline had affirmed it herself more confidently, perhaps, than\nwas warranted. She had, however, succeeded in lulling her father into\nforgetfulness of his former conjectures and impressions; she was\ncertain of this. It had been done at a terrible price of endurance and\nself-control; but she had succeeded, and it would be doubly cruel now to\nrevive his suspicions and let him know the truth.\n\n\u201cI will trust you,\u201d said Father Henwick; \u201cit is indeed a mercy that he is\nnot called upon to bear such a trial while he is yet so unprepared.\u201d\n\nThere was an earnestness about him as he said this that would have caused\nFranceline a deeper emotion than curiosity if her mind were not fixed\nwide of the mark. She replied after a moment\u2019s reflection: \u201cIf anything\nshould occur to make it necessary to tell him, will you break it to him,\nfather?\u201d\n\n\u201cI will,\u201d said the priest simply.\n\nFranceline had not the least fear of Father Henwick. The severity of his\npassionless brow did not frighten her; it never checked the outflow of\nthe thoughts and emotions that came surging up from her own perturbed\nheart. He seemed too far removed from strife himself to be affected by\nit, except as a pitying angel might, looking down from his calm heaven\non poor mortals struggling and striving in the smoke and din of their\nearthly battle-field.\n\n\u201cFather,\u201d said Franceline suddenly, \u201cI wish I cared more for the poor!\nI wish I could love them and pity them as you do; but I don\u2019t. I\u2019m so\nshy of going amongst them. I\u2019m sure I don\u2019t do them any good, and they\ndon\u2019t do me any good, they\u2019re so prosy and egotistical--most of them, at\nleast.\u201d\n\nHe turned an amused, indulgent smile on her.\n\n\u201cThere was a time when I thought so too; but persevere, and the love\nwill come after a little while. All that is worth having is bought with\nsacrifice. Oh! if we could only understand the blessedness of sacrifice!\nThen we should find the peace passing all understanding that comes of\npassion overcome, of sorrow generously accepted!\u201d\n\nHe held out his hand to say good-by. Franceline laid hers in it; but\ndid not remove it at once. \u201cFather,\u201d she said, with her eyes lifted in\nchildlike fearlessness to his, \u201cone would think, to hear you speak of\npassion overcome and sorrow accepted, that you knew something about them!\nI sometimes wish you did. It would make it easier to me to believe in the\npossibility of overcoming and accepting.\u201d\n\nA change came over Father Henwick\u2019s face for one moment; it was not a\ncloud nor a tremor, but the shadow of some deep emotion that must pass\naway before he could answer. Then the words came with grave simplicity,\nand low, as if they were a prayer:\n\n\u201cBelieve, then, my child, and take courage; I have gone through it all!\u201d\n\nHe turned and walked back into the wood. Franceline stood looking after\nhim through gathering tear-drops. Never had he seemed so far above her,\nso removed from human weakness, as at this moment, when he so humbly\nacknowledged kindred with it.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nA pleasant surprise met Franceline on her return home. Sir Simon was at\nThe Lilies, and loudly expressing his indignation at not finding her\nthere to greet him. She arrived, however, before he had quite divested\nhimself of a cargo of small boxes which he had carried down himself in\norder to have the delight of witnessing her curiosity and pleasure in\ntheir contents. There was hardly any event which could have given her so\nmuch pleasure in her present frame of mind as the sight of her kind old\nfriend; and she satisfied him to the full by her affectionate welcome\nand her delight in all his presents. He had not forgotten her favorite\n_friandise_--chocolate bonbons--and she set to nibbling them at once,\nin spite of Ang\u00e9lique\u2019s protest against such a proceeding close on\ndinner-time.\n\n\u201cVa, petite gourmande!\u201d exclaimed the _bonne_, tramping off to her\nkitchen, in high glee to see Franceline\u2019s gayety and innocent greediness\nover the dainty.\n\nSir Simon was, if possible, in brighter spirits than ever; like Job\u2019s\nfriends, he was \u201cfull of discourse,\u201d so that there was nothing to do\nbut listen and laugh as the current rippled on. He had a deal to tell\nabout his rambles in the Pyrenees, and a whole budget of adventures to\nretail, and anecdotes about odd people he had come across in all sorts\nof out-of-the-way places. Nothing checked the pleasant flow until M. de\nla Bourbonais had the unlucky inspiration to inquire for Lady Rebecca\u2019s\nhealth; whereupon the baronet raised his right hand and let it fall\nagain with an emphatic gesture, shook his head, and compressed his\nlips in ominous silence. Raymond, who held the key of the pantomime,\ngathered therefrom that Lady Rebecca had for the six-and-thirtieth\ntime rallied from the jaws of death, and plunged her long-suffering\nheir once more into dejection and disappointment. He knew what was\nin store for his private ear, and heaved a sigh. \u201cBut the present\nhour shall be a respite,\u201d Sir Simon seemed to say; and he quitted the\nsubject abruptly, and proceeded to catechise Franceline on her behavior\nsince his departure. He was surprised and annoyed to find that she had\nbeen to no parties; that nothing more exciting than that short visit\nto Rydal had come of his deep-laid scheme with the dowager; and that\nthere had been no rivalry of gallant suitors attacking the citadel of\nThe Lilies. He had been rather nervous before meeting her; for, though\nit had been made quite clear to him by Raymond\u2019s letters that _he_ had\nreceived no crushing blow of any description, Sir Simon had a lurking\nfear that recent events might have left a deeper shadow on his daughter\u2019s\nexistence than he was conscious of. Her aspect, however, set him at\nease on this score. He could hardly have lighted on a more favorable\nmoment for the confirmation of his sanguine hopes regarding Franceline\u2019s\nheart-wholeness. True, she had been crying, only half an hour ago,\nbitter, burning tears enough; but her face retained no trace of them, and\nit still held the glow of inward triumph that Father Henwick\u2019s last words\nhad called up into her eyes, and her cheeks had got a faint color from\nthe rapid walking. Sir Simon breathed freely as he took note of these\noutward signs; he could indulge in a little chaffing without remorse or\n_arri\u00e8re-pens\u00e9e_. He wanted to know, merely as a matter of curiosity, how\nmany hearts she had broken in his absence--how many unfortunates had been\nmortally struck as they passed within reach of her arrows on the wayside.\nFranceline protested that she carried no quiver, and had not inflicted a\nscratch on any one. Humph! Sir Simon invited her to convey that answer to\nthe marines.\n\n\u201cAnd how about Ponsonby Anwyll? Has he been here lately?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo; he called twice, but papa and I were out.\u201d\n\n\u201cPoor devil! so much the better for him! But he won\u2019t have the sense to\nkeep out of harm\u2019s way; he\u2019ll be at it again before long.\u201d\n\nFranceline gave one of her merry laughs--she was in a mood to enjoy the\nabsurdity of the joke--and went to take off her things; for Ang\u00e9lique put\nin her head to say that dinner was ready.\n\nThings fell quickly into their old course at the Court. There was a\nprocession of morning callers every day, and pleasant friendly dinners,\nand a few men down in relays to shoot. Sir Simon insisted on M. de la\nBourbonais coming to join them frequently, and bringing Franceline;\nhe had established a precedent, and he was not going to let it drop.\nFranceline, on the whole, was glad of the excitement; she was determined\nto use everything that could help her good resolutions; and the necessity\nfor seeming to enjoy soon led to her doing so in reality. After the\nstillness of her little home-life, filled as it was with restless voices\naudible to no ear but hers, the gay stir of the Court was welcome. It\nwas a pleasurable sensation, too, to feel herself the object of admiring\nattentions from a number of agreeable gentlemen, to be deferred to and\nmade much of, as if she were a little queen amongst them all. Sir Simon\nwas more indulgent than ever, and spoiled her to his heart\u2019s content.\nFather Henwick, who was kept _au courant_ of what was going on, could\nnot find it in his heart to oppose what seemed to be an innocent\ndiversion of her thoughts.\n\nIt was, therefore, anything but a welcome break when Lady Anwyll came\ndown one morning, accompanied by Sir Simon, to announce her intention\nof carrying off her friend the next day to Rydal. Franceline fought off\nwhile she could, but Sir Simon pooh-poohed her excuses about not liking\nto leave her father, and so forth; _he_ was there now to look after him,\nand she must go. So she went. Rydal had a dreadful association in her\nmind, and she shrank from going there as from revisiting the scene of\nsome horrible tragedy. She shrank, too, from leaving her father. Of late\nthey had been more bound up in their daily life than ever; she had coaxed\nhim into accepting her services as an amanuensis, and he had quickly\ngrown so used to them that he was sure to miss her greatly at his work.\n\nThere was nothing, moreover, in the inmates of Rydal to compensate her\nfor the sacrifice; they were not the least interesting. It was always\nthe same good-natured petting from Lady Anwyll, as if she were a kitten\nor a baby. She knew exactly what the conversation would be--gossip\nabout local trifles, about the family, especially Ponce, his boots, his\neccentricities, his pet dishes, his pranks in the regiment; the old tune\nplayed over and over again on the same string. As to Ponce himself,\nFranceline knew the big hussar already by heart; he would do his best to\nbe entertaining, and would only be awkward and commonplace. Nothing at\nRydal, in fact, rose above the dead-level of Dullerton.\n\nThe dowager had some few young people in for a carpet-dance, in which\nFranceline had to take her part, and did without any repugnance. Dancing\nbrought back certain memories that pierced her like steel blades; but\nher heart was proof against the thrusts, and she defied them to wound\nher. Lord Roxham was invited, and showed himself cordial and friendly,\nbut nothing more. He said he had been called away to London soon after\nthey last met, or else he would have profited by M. de la Bourbonais\u2019\npermission to call at The Lilies; he hoped that the authorization might\nstill hold good.\n\n\u201cOh! yes; do come. I shall be so glad to see you,\u201d was the frank and\nunaffected reply.\n\nLady Anwyll had meantime felt rather aggrieved at Lord Roxham\u2019s behavior.\nHer little scheme had gone off so swimmingly at first she could not\nunderstand why it had suddenly collapsed in its prosperous course,\nand come to a dead halt. At any rate, she would give him one more\nchance. The young legislator seemed in no violent hurry to improve it.\nHe danced a couple of times with Franceline, and once with two other\nyoung girls, and then subsided to dummy whist with the rector of Rydal\nand his wife, leaving Franceline to the combined fascinations of Mr.\nCharlton and Ponce, who usurped her between them. The latter bestowed\nsuch an unequal share of a host\u2019s courtesy on the young French girl,\nindeed, that his mother felt it incumbent on her to explain to the other\nyoung ladies that Mlle. de la Bourbonais was a foreigner; therefore\nPonce, being so good-natured, paid her particular attention. And he\ncertainly did--not only on that occasion, but while she remained. He\nwas continually hovering about her like a huge overshadowing bird\nwhose wings were always in the way of its movements. He tripped over\nfootstools in attempting to place them under her feet; but then he\nwas always so thankful that it was himself, not her, he nearly upset!\nHe spilt several cups of tea in handing them to her, and was nearly\novercome with gratitude when he saw the carpet had got the contents,\nand that her pretty muslin frock was safe! He _would_ hold an umbrella\nopen over her because it looked so uncommonly like rain; and it was\nsuch a mercy to have only spoiled her bonnet and made a hole in her\nveil, when he might so easily have run the point into her eye. Ponce,\nlike many wiser men, had endless satisfaction in the contemplation of\nthe blunders he might have committed and did not. Yet, with all his\nboyish awkwardness, Franceline was growing very fond of him. He was so\nthoroughly kind-hearted, and so free from the taint of conceit; and then\nthere was an undeniable enjoyment in the sense of being cared for, and\nthought of, and watched over; and it was all done in a na\u00efve, boyish\nway, and with a brotherly absence of compliment or constraint that left\nher free to accept it without any sense of undue obligation, or the fear\nof being called upon to repay it except by being pleased and grateful.\nWhen he followed her into the conservatory with a shawl and wrapped it\nround her unceremoniously, she looked up at his fresh, honest face, and\nsaid, almost as if he had been a woman: \u201cI wish I had you for a brother,\nCaptain Anwyll!\u201d He got very red, and was fumbling somewhere in his mind\nfor an answer, when his mother called to him for the watering-pot; Ponce\nseized it, and, dashing out a sudden shower-bath upon the dowager\u2019s\ndress, narrowly escaped drenching Franceline\u2019s. But it did escape. What a\nlucky dog he was!\n\nHow pleasant it was riding home in the fresh afternoon! Lady Anwyll came\nin the carriage, while Franceline and Capt. Anwyll cantered on before.\nNothing was likely to have happened at The Lilies during her absence;\nbut as they drew near she grew impatient and rode at a pace, as if she\nexpected wonderful tidings at the ride\u2019s end. The air was so clear that\nDullerton, yet a mile off, sent its hum of life towards the riders with\nsharp distinctness. The panting of the train, as it moved out of the\nstation, sounded close by; every street cry and tinkling cart-bell rang\nout like a chime. Soon the soft cooing of the doves came wafted above the\ndistant voice of the town; and when the travellers came within sight of\nThe Lilies, the flock flew to greet Franceline, wheeling round high up in\nthe air several times before alighting on her shoulders and outstretched\nwrist. Then came her father\u2019s delighted exclamation, as he hurried down\nthe little garden-walk, and Ang\u00e9lique\u2019s affectionate embrace. And once\nmore the small, still home-life, that was so sweet and so rich in a\nrestored joy, recommenced. Franceline devoted hours every day now to\nworking with her father, and soon she became almost as much absorbed in\nthe work as he was. Sometimes, indeed, she hindered rather than helped,\nstopping him in the midst of his dictation to demand an explanation; but\nRaymond never chided her or grudged the delay. Her fresh young eyesight\nand diligent, nimble hand were invaluable to him, and he wondered how he\nhad got on so long without them.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nLord Roxham redeemed his promise of calling at The Lilies. He talked\na good deal to Raymond about politics and current events, saying very\nlittle to Franceline, who sat by, stitching away at some bit of plain\nsewing. This was just what she liked. Her father was entertained and\ninterested. A breeze from the outer world always refreshed him, though\nhe was hardly conscious of it, still less of needing any such reviving\nincident in his quiet, monotonous existence; but Franceline always hailed\nit with thankfulness for him, and was well content to remain in the shade\nnow while the visitor devoted himself to amusing her father. Was it\nfancy, or did she, on glancing up suddenly from her needle-work, detect\nan expression, half compassionate, half searching, in Lord Roxham\u2019s face,\nas he looked fixedly at her? Whether it was fancy or not, her eyes fell\nat once, and the blood mantled her cheek; she did not venture to let her\ngaze light on him again, and it was with a sense of shyness that she\nshook hands with him at parting.\n\nPonsonby Anwyll was now a frequent visitor at The Lilies, sometimes\ncoming alone, sometimes with Sir Simon; and it was a curious coincidence,\nif quite accidental, that he generally made his appearance as Franceline\nwas on the point of starting for her ride; and as he was always on\nhorseback, there was no conceivable reason why he should not join the\nparty. The burly hussar was a safer companion in the saddle than in the\ndrawing-room; he rode with the masterly ease of a cavalryman, and, the\nroad being free from the disturbing influence of tea-trays and chairs,\nhe spilt nothing and upset nobody, and Franceline was always glad of\nhis company. She was too inexperienced and too much absorbed in other\nthoughts to forecast any possible results from this state of things.\nPonsonby continued the same familiar, kind, brother-like manner to her;\nwas mightily concerned in keeping her out of the bad bits of road, and\nout of the way of the cattle that might be tramping to market and prove\noffensive to her mettlesome pony. He never aimed at making himself\nagreeable, only useful. But the eyes of Dullerton looked on at all this\nbrotherly attention, and drew its own conclusion. The Langrove young\nladies, of whom somehow she had of late seen less than ever, grew excited\nto the highest pitch about it, and were already discussing how many of\nthem would be bridemaids at the wedding, if bridemaids there were. Most\nlikely Sir Simon would settle that and probably give the dresses. Even\ndiscreet Miss Merrywig could not forbear shaking her finger and her\nbarrel curls at Franceline one day when the latter hurried off to get\nready for her ride, with the excuse that Sir Simon and Capt. Anwyll were\ndue at three o\u2019clock. But Franceline knew by this time what Dullerton\nwas, and what it could achieve in the way of gossip; spinning a yarn a\nmile long out of a thread the length of your finger. She only laughed,\nand mentally remarked how little people knew. They would be marrying her\nto Sir Simon next, when Ponsonby rejoined his regiment and was seen no\nmore at her saddle-bow.\n\nThe three had set out for a ride one afternoon, when, as they were\ndashing along at full tilt, Sir Simon pulled up with a strong formula of\nexclamation.\n\n\u201cWhat\u2019s the matter?\u201d cried Sir Ponsonby, plunging back heavily, while\nFranceline reined in Rosebud, and turned in some alarm to see what had\noccurred.\n\n\u201cIf I have not actually forgotten all about Simpson, who comes down from\nLondon by appointment this afternoon! I dare say he\u2019s waiting for me by\nthis, and he must return by the 5:20. I must leave you, and post home as\nquick as Nero will carry me.\u201d And with a \u201cby-by\u201d to Franceline and a nod\nto Capt. Anwyll, coupled with an injunction not to let her ride too fast\nand to keep her out of mischief, the baronet turned his horse\u2019s head and\ngalloped away, desiring the groom to follow on with the others.\n\nThey went on at a good pace until they reached the foot of a gentle\nascent, when both of one accord fell into a walk. For the first time in\ntheir intercourse Franceline was conscious of a certain vague awkwardness\nwith Capt. Anwyll; of casting about for something to say, and not finding\nanything. The place was perfectly solitary, the woods on one side,\nthe fields sloping down to the river on the other. The groom lagged\nrespectfully a long way behind, quite out of ear-shot, often out of\nsight; for the road curved and wheeled abruptly every now and then, and\nhid the foremost riders from his view. Ponsonby broke the silence:\n\n\u201cMiss Franceline\u201d--he would call her Miss Franceline, because it was\neasier and shorter--\u201cI have something on my mind that I want badly to say\nto you. I\u2019ve been wanting to say it for some time. I hope it won\u2019t make\nyou angry?\u201d\n\n\u201cI can\u2019t say till I hear it; but if you are in doubt about it, perhaps\nit would be safer not to say it,\u201d remarked Franceline, beginning to\ntremble ominously.\n\n\u201cI wouldn\u2019t vex you for anything in the world! \u2019Pon my honor I wouldn\u2019t!\u201d\nprotested Ponce warmly. \u201cBut, you see, I don\u2019t know whether what I\u2019m\ngoing to say will vex you or not.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen don\u2019t say it; you are sure not to vex me then,\u201d was the encouraging\nadvice, and she devoutly hoped he would take it. But he was not so minded.\n\n\u201cThat\u2019s true,\u201d he assented; \u201cbut then, you see, it might please you. I\u2019m\nhalf afraid it won\u2019t, though, only I can\u2019t be sure till I try.\u201d After\nmusing a moment, in obvious perplexity, he resumed, speaking rapidly, as\nif he had made up his mind to bolt it all out and take the consequences.\n\u201cI\u2019m not a puppy--my worst enemy won\u2019t accuse me of that; but I\u2019m not a\nbad fellow either, as my mother and all the fellows in the Tenth will\ntell you; and the fact is, I\u2019ve grown very fond of you, Miss Franceline,\nand if you\u2019ll take me as I am I\u2019ll do my best to be a good husband to you\nand to make you happy.\u201d\n\nHe said it quickly, as if he were reciting a lesson got by heart, and\nthen came to a dead halt and \u201cpaused for a reply.\u201d He might have paused\nlong enough, if he had not at last turned round and read his fate in\nFranceline\u2019s scared, white face and undisguised agitation.\n\n\u201cOh! now, don\u2019t say no before you think it over!\u201d entreated the young\nman. \u201cI know you\u2019re ten times too good for me; but, for that matter,\nyou\u2019re too good for the best fellow that ever lived. I said so myself\nto Sir Simon only this morning. But I do love you with all my heart,\nFranceline; and if only you could care for me ever so little to begin\nwith, I\u2019d be satisfied, and you\u2019d make me the happiest man alive!\u201d\n\nFranceline had now recovered her self-possession, and was able to speak,\nthough she still trembled.\n\n\u201cI am so sorry!\u201d she exclaimed. \u201cI never dreamed of this; indeed I did\nnot! I dare say I have been very selfish, very thoughtless; but it was\nnot wilful. I am very unhappy to have given you pain!\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! don\u2019t say that. You\u2019ll make me miserable if you say that!\u201d pleaded\nPonsonby. \u201cOf course you never thought of it. It\u2019s great impudence of me\nto think of it, I have so little to offer you! But if you don\u2019t quite\nhate the sight of me, I\u2019m sure I could make you a devoted husband, and\nlove you better than many a cleverer fellow. I\u2019ve been fond of you from\nthe first, and so has my mother.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are both very good to me; I am very, very grateful!\u201d The tears\nrose to her eyes, and with a frank, impulsive movement she held out her\nhand to him. Ponsonby bent from the saddle and raised it to his lips,\nalthough it was gloved. If he had not been over-sanguine at heart and a\ntrifle stupid, poor fellow, he would have felt that it was all over with\nhim. The little hand lay with cold, sisterly kindness in his grasp, and\nFranceline looked at him with eyes that were too kind and pitying to\npromise anything more than sisterly pity and gratitude.\n\n\u201cI cannot, I cannot. You must never think of it any more. Do you not see\nthat it is impossible? I am a Catholic!\u201d\n\n\u201cPshaw! as if that mattered a whit! I mean as if it need make any\ndifference between us! I don\u2019t mind it a pin--\u2019pon my honor I don\u2019t!\nI said so to the count. We\u2019ve settled all that, in fact, and if he\u2019s\nsatisfied to trust me why will not you?\u201d\n\n\u201cThen you have spoken to my father?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! yes; that was the right thing, Sir Simon told me, as he was a\nFrenchman.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd what did he say to you?\u201d\n\n\u201cHe said that if you said yes, he was quite willing to give you to me. I\nwanted to come to settlements at once--I only wish I was ten times better\noff!--but he would not hear a word about that until I had consulted you.\nOnly, he said he would be glad to receive me as his son; he did indeed,\nFranceline!\u201d She was looking straight before her, her eyes dilated, her\nwhole face aglow with some strong emotion that his words seemed to have\nstirred in her.\n\n\u201cYou remember,\u201d continued Ponsonby, \u201cthat you said to me once you\nwould like to have me for a brother? Well, it will be nearly the same\nthing. You would get used to me as a husband after a while; you would,\nFranceline!\u201d\n\n\u201cNever, never, never!\u201d she repeated, not passionately, but with a calm\nemphasis that made Ponsonby\u2019s heart die within him. He could not find a\nword to oppose to the strong, quiet protest.\n\n\u201cNo, it is all a mistake,\u201d said Franceline. \u201cI don\u2019t know who is to\nblame--I suppose I am. I should not have let you come so often; but you\nwere so kind, and I have so few people to care for me; and when one is\nsad at heart, kindness is so welcome! But I should have thought of you; I\nhave been selfish!\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, no, you have not been selfish at all; it\u2019s all my doing and my\nfault,\u201d affirmed the young man. \u201cI wish I had held my tongue a little\nlonger. My mother will come and see you to-morrow; she will explain it\nall, and how it sha\u2019n\u2019t make any trouble to you, my being a Protestant.\u201d\n\n\u201cShe must not come,\u201d said Franceline with decision; \u201cthere is nothing\nto explain. I am sincerely grateful to her and to you; but I have only\ngratitude to give you. I hope with all my heart that you may soon forget\nme and any pain I am causing you, and that you may meet with a wife who\nwill make you happier than I could have done.\u201d\n\nPonsonby was silent for a few moments, and then he said, speaking with a\ncertain hesitation and diffidence:\n\n\u201cI could be satisfied to wait and to go on hoping, if I were sure of one\nthing:\u2026 that you did not care for anybody else. Do you?\u201d\n\nShe flashed a glance of indignant pride at him.\n\n\u201cWhat right have you to put such a question to me? I tell you I do not\ncare for you, and that I will never marry you! You have no right to ask\nme any more.\u201d\n\nPonsonby recoiled as if a flash of lightning had forked out of the cold,\ngray sky. \u201cGood heavens! I did not mean to offend you. I declare solemnly\nI did not!\u201d\n\nBut he had touched a vibrating chord unawares, and set every fibre in her\nheart thrilling and every pulse throbbing; and the disturbance was not to\nbe laid by any words that he could utter. Franceline turned homewards,\nand they did not exchange a word until they reached The Lilies and\nPonsonby was assisting her to alight.\n\n\u201cSay you forgive me!\u201d he said, speaking very low and penitently.\n\nShe had already forgiven him but not herself.\n\n\u201cI do, and I am sorry for being so impetuous. Good-by!\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd my mother may come and see you to-morrow?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, no! It is no use; it is no use! I say again I wish you were my\nbrother, Sir Ponsonby, but, as you care to remain my friend, never speak\nto me again of this.\u201d\n\nHe pressed the hand she held out to him; the groom backed up to take the\nreins of her horse, and Ponsonby rode away with a thorn in his honest\nheart.\n\nMiss Merrywig was within, chatting and laughing away with the count.\nFranceline was not in a mood to meet the garrulous old lady or anybody;\nso she went straight to her room, and only came down when the visitor was\ngone.\n\n\u201cFather,\u201d she said, going up behind him and laying a hand on each\nshoulder, \u201cwhat is this Sir Ponsonby tells me? That you are tired of your\n_clair-de-lune_, and want to get rid of her?\u201d\n\nM. de la Bourbonais drew down the two trembling hands, and clasped them\non his breast, and lifted his head as if he would look at her.\n\n\u201cIt would not be losing her, but gaining a son, who would take care of\nher when I am gone! She has not thought of that!\u201d\n\n\u201cNo; and she does not wish to think of it! I will live with you while I\nlive. I don\u2019t care to look beyond that; nor must you, petit p\u00e8re. But I\nam very sorry for Sir Ponsonby. You must write and tell him so, and that\nhe must not come any more--until he has forgotten me; that you cannot\ngive me up.\u201d\n\n\u201cMy cherished one! Let us talk about this matter; it is very serious. We\nmust not do anything rashly.\u201d He tried to unclasp her hands and draw her\nto his side; but she locked them tighter, and laid her cheek on his head.\n\n\u201cPetit p\u00e8re, there is nothing to talk about; I will never marry him or\nanybody!\u201d\n\n\u201cMy child, thou speakest without reflection. Captain Anwyll is a good,\nhonorable man, and he loves thee, and it would be a great comfort to me\nto see thee married to him, and not to leave thee friendless and almost\npenniless whenever God calls me away. I understand it has taken thee by\nsurprise, and that thou canst not accept the idea without some delay and\ngetting used to it; but we must not decide so important a matter hastily.\nCome, sit down, and let us discuss it.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, father,\u201d she answered in a tone of determination that was quite\nforeign to her now, and reminded him of the wilful child of long ago;\n\u201cthere is no use in discussing what is already decided. I will never\nmarry Ponsonby--or anybody. Why, petit p\u00e8re, do you forget that he is a\nProtestant?\u201d\n\n\u201cNay, I have forgotten nothing; that has been all arranged. He is most\nliberal about it; consents to leave you to \u2026 to have everything your own\nway in that respect, and assures me that it shall make no difference\nwhatever to you, his not being of your religion.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo difference, father! No difference to a wife that her husband should\nbe a heretic! You cannot be in earnest. What blessing could there be on\nsuch a marriage?\u201d\n\n\u201cBut you would soon convert him, my little one; you would make a good\nCatholic of him before the year was out,\u201d said M. de la Bourbonais.\n\u201cThink of that!\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd suppose it were the other way, and that he made a good Protestant\nof me? It is no more than I should deserve for my presumption. You know\nwhat happens to those who seek the danger.\u2026\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! that is a different thing; that warning applies to those who seek\nit rashly, from vain or selfish motives,\u201d protested Raymond, moving his\nspectacles, as he always did instinctively when his argument was weak;\nand he knew right well that now it was slipping into sophistry.\n\n\u201cI cannot see anything but a selfish motive in marrying against the\nexpress prohibition of the church and without any affection for the\nperson, but simply because he could give you a position and the good\nthings of this life,\u201d said Franceline.\n\n\u201cThe prohibition is conditional,\u201d persisted Raymond, \u201cand those\nconditions would be scrupulously fulfilled; and as to there not being the\nnecessary affection, there is enough on his side for both, and his love\nwould soon beget thine.\u201d\n\n\u201cFather, it is no use. I am grieved to contradict you; but I cannot,\ncannot do this to please you. You must write and say so to Capt. Anwyll;\nyou must indeed.\u201d\n\nRaymond heaved a sigh. He felt as powerless as an infant before this new\nwilfulness of his _clair-de-lune_; it was foolish as well as imprudent to\nyield, but he did not know how to deal with it. There was honest truth\non her side; no subterfuges could baffle the instinctive logic of her\nchildlike faith.\n\n\u201cWe will let things remain as they are for a few days, and then, if thou\ndost still insist, I will write and refuse the offer,\u201d he said, seeking a\nlast chance in temporizing.\n\n\u201cNo, petit p\u00e8re; if you love me, write at once. It is only fair to Sir\nPonsonby, and it will set my mind at rest. Here, let me find you a pen!\u201d\nShe chose one out of a number of inky goose-quills on the little Japan\ntray, and thrust it playfully between his fingers.\n\nThe letter was written, and Ang\u00e9lique was forthwith despatched with it to\nthe pillar at the park gate.\n\nDuring the remainder of the afternoon Franceline worked away diligently\nat the Causes of the French Revolution, and spent the evening reading\naloud. But M. de la Bourbonais could not so lightly dismiss the day\u2019s\nincident from his thoughts. He had experienced a moment of pure joy and\nunutterable thankfulness when Ponsonby had come in and stammered out\nhis honest confession of love, and pleaded so humbly with the father to\n\u201ctake his part with Miss Franceline.\u201d The pleasure was all the greater\nfor being a complete surprise. Sir Simon had cautiously resolved to\nhave no hand in negotiating between the parties; he had let things take\ntheir course from the first, determined not to interfere, but clearly\nforeseeing the issue. Raymond was bewildered by Franceline\u2019s rejection\nof the proposed marriage. He did not try much to explain it to himself;\nit was a puzzle that did not come within the rule and compass of his\nphilosophy--a young girl refusing to be married when an eligible husband\npresented himself for her father\u2019s acceptance. He heaved many a deep sigh\nover it, as his anxious gaze rested on the golden-haired young head bent\nover the desk. But he did not ask any questions.\n\nSir Simon came down next morning in high displeasure. He was angry,\ndisappointed, aggrieved. Here he had been at considerable pains of\ningenuity and forethought to provide a model husband for Franceline,\na young fellow whom any girl ought to jump at--high-principled,\nunencumbered rent-roll, good-looking, good-tempered--and the little\nminx turns up her nose at him, and sends him to the right-about! Such\nperverseness and folly were not to be tolerated. What did she mean by it?\nWhat did she see amiss in Anwyll? Sir Simon was for having her up for a\nround lecture. But Raymond would not allow this. He might groan in his\ninmost heart over Franceline\u2019s refusal, but he was not going to let her\nbe bullied by anybody; not even by Sir Simon. He stood up for his child,\nand defended her as if he had fully approved of her conduct.\n\n\u201cI\u2019ll tell you what it is, Bourbonais, you\u2019re just as great a fool as\nshe is; only she is a child, and knows nothing of life, and can\u2019t see\nthe madness of what she is doing. But you ought to know better. I have\nno patience with you. When one thinks of what this marriage would do for\nboth of you--lifting you out of penury, restoring your daughter to her\nproper position in the world, and securing her future, so that, if you\nwere called away to-morrow, you need have no care or anxiety about her!\nAnd to think of your backing her up in rejecting it all!\u201d\n\n\u201cI did not back her up in it. I deplore her having done so,\u201d replied\nRaymond. \u201cBut I will not coerce her; her happiness is dearer to me than\nher interest or my own.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat tomfoolery! As if her interest and her happiness were not identical\nin this case! A man who is fond of her, and rich enough to give her\neverything in life a girl could wish for! What does she want besides?\u201d\ndemanded Sir Simon angrily.\n\n\u201cI believe she wants nothing, except to be left with her old father. She\ndoes not care for Capt. Anwyll,\u201d said Raymond; but his French mind felt\nthis was very weak argument.\n\n\u201cThe devil she doesn\u2019t! Who does she care for?\u201d retorted the baronet.\nBut he had no sooner uttered the words than he regretted them; they\nseemed to recoil on him like a stone flung too near. He seized his hat,\nand, muttering impatiently something about the nonsense of giving into\nchildish fancies, etc., strode out of the cottage, and did not show\nhimself there for several days.\n\nHe was pursued by that question of his own, \u201cWho did Franceline care\nfor?\u201d and made uncomfortable by the persistency with which it kept\ndinning in his ears. He had made up his mind long ago that the failure\nof his first matrimonial plot had had no serious effect on her heart or\nspirits. She was looking very delicate when he came back, but that was\nthe dulness of the life she had been leading during his absence. She\nhad picked up considerably since then. It was plain to everybody she\nhad; her spirits were better. There was certainly nothing wrong in that\ndirection. How could there be when he, Sir Simon, so thoroughly desired\nthe contrary, and did so much to cheer up the child--and himself into\nthe bargain--and make her forget any impression that unlucky Clide might\nhave made? Still, no matter how emphatically he answered it, the tiresome\nquestion kept sounding in his ears day after day. He could stand it no\nlonger. He must go and see them at The Lilies--see Franceline, and read\non her innocent young face that all was peace within, and cheer up his\nown depressed spirits by a talk with Raymond. Nobody listened to him and\nsympathized with him as Raymond did. He had no worries of his own to\ndistract him, for one thing; and if he had, he was such a philosophical\nbeing he would carry them to the moon and leave them there. Sir Simon was\nblessed with no such happy faculty. He could forget his troubles for a\nwhile under the stimulating balm of cheerful society and generous wine;\nbut as soon as he was alone they were down on him like an army of ants,\nstinging and goading him. Things were very gloomy just now, and he could\nless than ever dispense with the opiate of sympathetic companionship.\nLady Rebecca had taken a fresh start, and was less likely to depart than\nshe had been for the last ten years. The duns, who watched her ladyship\u2019s\nfluctuations between life and death with almost as sincere and breathless\nan interest as her heir, had got wind of this, and were up and at him\nagain, hunting him like a hare--the low, grasping, insolent hounds! His\nrevived money annoyances made him the more irascible with Franceline for\nthrowing away her chance of being for ever saved and protected from the\nlike. But he would harp no more on that string.\n\nHe had been into Dullerton on horseback, and, overtaking the postman on\nhis way home, he stopped to take his letters, and then asked if there\nwere any for The Lilies. He was going there, and would save the postman\nthe walk that far.\n\n\u201cThank you, sir! There is one for the count.\u201d And the man held up a large\nblue envelope, like a lawyer\u2019s letter, which Sir Simon thrust into his\npocket. He left his horse at the Court, and walked on through the park,\nreading his letters as he went. Their contents were not of the most\nagreeable, to judge by the peevish and angry ejaculations that the reader\nemitted in the course of their perusal. He had not done when he reached\nthe cottage.\n\n\u201cHere\u2019s a letter for you, Bourbonais; I\u2019ll finish mine while you\u2019re\nreading it.\u201d He handed the blue envelope to his friend, and, flinging\nhimself into a chair, became again absorbed and ejaculatory.\n\nM. de la Bourbonais, meanwhile, proceeded to open his official-looking\ncommunication. He surveyed it with uplifted eyebrows, examined well the\nlarge red seal, and scrutinized the handwriting of the address, before\nhe tore it open. His eye ran quickly over the page. A nervous twitch\ncontracted his features; his hand shook as if a string at his elbow had\nbeen rudely pulled; but he controlled all further sign of emotion, and,\nafter reading the contents twice over, silently folded the letter and\nreplaced it in the envelope. Sir Simon had seen nothing; he was deep in\nsuppressed denunciations of some rascally dun.\n\n\u201cHang me if I know what\u2019s to be the end of it, or the end of me--an ounce\nof lead in my skull, most likely!\u201d he burst out, ramming the bundle of\noffending documents into his coat-pocket. \u201cThe brutes are in league to\ndrive me mad!\u201d\n\n\u201cHas anything new happened?\u201d inquired the count anxiously. \u201cI hoped\nthings had arranged themselves of late?\u201d\n\n\u201cNot they! How can they when these vampires are sucking the blood of one?\nIt\u2019s pretty much like sucking a corpse!\u201d he laughed sardonically. \u201cThe\nfools! If they would but have sense to see that it is their own interest\nnot to drive me to desperation! But they will goad me to do something\nthat will make an end of their chance of ever being paid!\u201d\n\nM. de la Bourbonais ought to have been hardened to this sort of thing;\nbut he was not. The vague threats and dark innuendoes always alarmed\nhim. He never knew but that each crisis which called them out might be\nthe supreme one that would bring about their fulfilment. At such moments\nhe had not the heart to rebuke Sir Simon and add the bitterness of\nself-reproach to his excited feelings. His look of keen distress struck\nSir Simon with compunction.\n\n\u201cOh! it will blow off, as it has done so often before, I suppose,\u201d he\nsaid, tossing his head. \u201cHere\u2019s a letter from L---- to say he is coming\ndown next week with a whole houseful of men to shoot. I\u2019ve not seen\nL---- for an age. He\u2019s a delightful fellow; he\u2019ll cheer one up.\u201d And the\nbaronet heaved a sigh from the very depths of his afflicted spirit.\n\n\u201cMon cher, is it wise to be asking down crowds of people in this way?\u201d\nasked Raymond dubiously.\n\n\u201cI did not ask them! Don\u2019t I tell you they have written to invite\nthemselves?\u201d\n\nIt was true; but Sir Simon forgot how often he had besought his friends\nto do just what they were now doing--to write and say when they could\ncome, and to bring as many as they liked with them. That had always been\nthe way at the Court; and he was not the man to belie its old traditions.\nBut Raymond, who had also his class of noble traditions, could not see\nit.\n\n\u201cWhy not write frankly, and, without explaining the precise motive, say\nthat you cannot at present receive any one?\u201d\n\nSir Simon gave an impatient pshaw!\n\n\u201cNonsense, my dear Bourbonais, nonsense! As if a few fellows more or less\nsignified that\u201d--snapping his fingers--\u201cat the end of the year! Besides,\nwhat the deuce is the good of having a place at all, if one can\u2019t have\none\u2019s friends about one in it? Better shut up at once. It\u2019s the only\ncompensation a man has; the only thing that pulls him through. And then\nthe pheasants are there, and must be shot. I can\u2019t shoot them all. But\nit\u2019s no use trying to make you take an Englishman\u2019s view of the case. You\nsimply can\u2019t do it.\u201d\n\nM. de la Bourbonais agreed, and inwardly hoped he never might come to see\nthe case as his friend did. But, notwithstanding this, Sir Simon went on\ndiscussing his own misfortunes, denouncing the rascality and rapacity of\nthe modern tradesman, and bemoaning the good old times when the world was\na fit place for a gentleman to live in. When he had sufficiently relieved\nhis mind on the subject, and drew breath, M. de la Bourbonais poured what\noil of comfort he could on his friend\u2019s wounds. He spoke confidently\nof the ultimate demise of Lady Rebecca, and expressed equal trust in\nthe powers of Mr. Simpson to perform once again the meteorological feat\nknown to Sir Simon as \u201craising the wind.\u201d Under the influence of these\nsoothing abstractions the baronet cheered up, and before long Richard\nwas himself again. He overhauled Raymond\u2019s latest work; read aloud some\nnotes on Mirabeau which Franceline had taken down at his dictation the\nprevious evening, and worked himself into a frenzy of indignation at the\nhistorian\u2019s partiality for that thundering demagogue. Raymond waxed warm\nin defence of his hero; maintained that at heart Mirabeau had wished to\nsave the king; and almost lost his philosophical self-control when Sir\nSimon called him the master-knave of the Revolution, a traitor and a\nbully, and other hard names to the same effect.\n\n\u201cI wash my hands of you, if you are going to play panegyrist to that\npock-marked ruffian!\u201d was the baronet\u2019s concluding remark; and he\nflung out his hands, as if he were shaking the contamination from his\nfingers. Suddenly his eye fell upon the great blue letter, and, abruptly\ndismissing Mirabeau, he said: \u201cBy the way, what a formidable document\nthat is that I brought you just now! Has it anything to do with the\nRevolution?\u201d\n\nRaymond shook his head and smothered a rising sigh.\n\n\u201cIt has been as good as a revolution to me, at any rate.\u201d\n\n\u201cMy dear Bourbonais, what is it? Nothing seriously amiss, I hope?\u201d\nexclaimed Sir Simon, full of alarmed interest.\n\nThe count took up the letter and handed it to him.\n\n\u201cGood heavens! Bankrupt! Can pay nothing! How much had you in it?\u201d\n\n\u201cNearly two hundred--the savings of the last fourteen years,\u201d replied M.\nde la Bourbonais calmly.\n\n\u201cMy dear fellow, I\u2019m heartily sorry!\u201d exclaimed his friend in an accent\nof sincere distress; \u201cwith all my heart I\u2019m sorry! And to think of\nyou having read this and said nothing, and I raving away about my own\ntroubles like a selfish dog as I am! Why did you not tell me at once?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat good would it have done?\u201d Raymond shrugged his shoulders, and with\nanother involuntary sigh threw the letter on the table. \u201cIt\u2019s hard,\nthough. I was so little prepared for it; the house bore such a good\nname.\u2026\u201d\n\n\u201cI should have said it was the safest bank in the country. So it was,\nvery likely; only one did not reckon with the dishonesty of this scheming\nvillain of a partner--if it be true that he is the cause of it.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo doubt it is; why should they tell lies about it? The whole affair\nwill be in the papers one of these days, I suppose.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd you can stand there and not curse the villain!\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat good would cursing him do? It would not bring back my poor\nscrapings.\u201d Raymond laughed gently. \u201cI dare say his own conscience will\ncurse him before long--the unhappy man! But who knows what terrible\ntemptation may have driven him to the deed? Perhaps he got into some\ndifficulty that nothing else could extricate him from, and he may have\nhad a wife and children pulling at his conscience by his heart-strings!\nLibera nos a malo, Domine!\u201d And looking upwards, Raymond sighed again.\n\n\u201cWhat a strange being you are, Raymond!\u201d exclaimed Sir Simon, eyeing him\ncuriously. \u201cVerily, I believe your philosophy is worth something after\nall.\u201d\n\nM. de la Bourbonais laughed outright. \u201cWell, it\u2019s worth nearly the money\nto have brought you to that!\u201d\n\n\u201cTo see you stand there coolly and philosophize about the motives that\nmay possibly have led an unprincipled scoundrel to rob you of every penny\nyou possessed! Many a man has got a fit from less.\u201d\n\n\u201cMany a fool, perhaps; but it would be a poor sort of man that such\na blow would send into a fit!\u201d returned the count with mild contempt.\n\u201cBut I must not be forgetful of the difference of conditions,\u201d he added\nquickly. \u201cIt all depends on what the money is worth to one, and what its\nloss involves. I don\u2019t want it at present. It was a little hoard for the\nrainy day; and--qui sait?--the rainy day may never come!\u201d\n\n\u201cNo; Franceline may marry a rich man,\u201d suggested the baronet, not with\nany intent to wound.\n\n\u201cJust so! I may never want the money, and so never be the poorer for\nlosing it.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd supposing there was at this moment some pressing necessity for\nit--that your child was in absolute need of it for some reason or\nother--what then?\u201d queried Sir Simon.\n\nRaymond winced and started imperceptibly, as if a pain went through him.\n\n\u201cThank heaven there is no necessity to answer that,\u201d he said. \u201cWe were\ntaught to pray to be delivered from temptation; let us be thankful when\nwe are, and not set imaginary traps for ourselves.\u201d\n\n\u201cSome men are, I believe, born proof against temptation; I should say you\nare one of them, Bourbonais,\u201d said his friend, looking steadily at him.\n\n\u201cYou are mistaken,\u201d replied Raymond quietly. \u201cI don\u2019t know whether any\nhuman being may be born with that sort of fire-proof covering; but I\nknow for certain that I was not.\u201d\n\n\u201cCan you, then, conceive yourself under a pressure of temptation so\nstrong as that your principles, your conscience, would give way? Can\nyou imagine yourself telling a deliberate lie, for instance, or doing a\ndeliberate wrong to some one, in order to save yourself--or, better, your\nchild--from some grievous harm?\u201d\n\nRaymond thought for a moment, as if he were poising a balance in his\nmind before he answered; then he said, speaking with slow emphasis, as\nif every word was being weighed in the scales: \u201cYes, I can fancy myself\ngiving way, if, at such a crisis as you describe, I were left to myself,\nwith only my own strength to lean on; but I hope I should not be left to\nit. I hope I should ask to be delivered from it.\u201d\n\nThe humility of the avowal went further to deepen Sir Simon\u2019s faith in\nhis friend\u2019s integrity and in the strength of his principles than the\nboldest self-assertion could have done. It informed him, too, of the\nexistence of a certain ingredient in Raymond\u2019s philosophy which the\ncareless and light-hearted man of the world had not till then suspected.\n\n\u201cOne thing I know,\u201d he said, taking up his hat, and extending a hand to\nM. de la Bourbonais: \u201cif your conscience were ever to play you false, it\nwould make an end of my faith in all mankind--and in something more.\u201d\n\nTO BE CONTINUED.\n\n\nQUESTIONS CONCERNING THE SYLLABUS.\n\nDOCTRINAL AUTHORITY OF THE SYLLABUS.\n\nFROM LES ETUDES RELIGIEUSES, ETC.\n\nWe enter on a work whose practical usefulness no one, we suspect, will\ndispute, since it concerns perhaps the most memorable act of the reign\nof Pius IX.--the Syllabus. There has been a great deal of discussion\nabout the Syllabus--much has been written on it in the way both of attack\nand defence--but it is remarkable that it has scarcely been studied at\nall. The remark was made by one of the editors of this review, Father\nMarquigny, in the General Congress of Catholic Committees at Paris;\nand, so true was it felt to be, that it provoked the approving laughter\nof the whole assembly. But to pass by those who busy themselves about\nthis document without having read it, how many are there, even among\nCatholics, who, after having read it, have only the most vague and\nconfused notions about it--how many who, if they were asked, \u201cWhat does\nthe Syllabus teach you; what does it make obligatory on you?\u201d would not\nknow what to answer! Thus is man constituted. He skims willingly over the\nsurface of things; but he has no fancy for stopping awhile and digging\nunderneath. If he is pleased with looking at a great many things, he does\nnot equally concern himself to gain knowledge; because there is no true\nscience without labor, and labor is troublesome. Yet nothing could be\nmore desirable for him than to come by this luminous entrance from the\nknowledge to the possession of truth. Christian faith, when it is living\nand active, necessarily experiences the desire of it; for, according to\nthe beautiful saying of S. Anselm, it is, by its very nature, a seeker of\nscience--of knowing: _Fides qu\u00e6rens intellectum_.\n\nBut, not to delay ourselves by these considerations, is it possible to\nexaggerate the importance of the study of the Syllabus in the critical\ncircumstances in which we are placed? The uncertainty of the future; the\nimpossibility of discovering a satisfactory course in the midst of the\nshadows which surround us; the need of knowing what to seize a firm hold\nof in the formidable problems whose obscurity agitates, in these days,\nthe strongest minds; above all, the furious assaults of the enemies of\nthe church, and the authority belonging to a solemn admonition coming\nto us from the chair of truth--all these things teach us plainly enough\nhow culpable it must be for us to remain indifferent and to neglect the\nillumination offered to us. The teachings of the Vicar of Jesus Christ\ndeserve to be meditated on at leisure. It is this which inspires us with\na hope that our work will be favorably received. Truth, moreover, claims\nthe services of all, even of the feeblest, and we must not desert her\ncause for fear our ability may not suffice for her defence.\n\nCertainly, no one will expect us, here, to give an analytical exposition\nof the eighty propositions condemned by Pius IX. Several numbers of the\n_Etudes_ would scarcely suffice for that. General questions dominate\nall others; it is to the careful solution of these that we shall devote\nourselves. They have always appeared to us to need clear and decisive\nexplanation. Often they are incorrectly proposed, oftener still they\nare ill-defined. The object of our efforts will be to point out with\nprecision the limits within which they must be restrained, the sense\nin which they must be accepted, and their necessary import; then, to\ngive them, as clearly as we are able, a solution the most sure and the\nmost conformable to first principles. If it should be objected that in\nthis we are entering on a wide theological field, we shall not deny it.\nProudhon, who desired anarchy in things, in principles--everywhere, in\nfact, except in reasoning--averred that rigorous syllogism lands us\ninevitably at theology. How, then, would it be possible not to find it\nin the Syllabus? They, on the other hand, who are unceasing in their\nviolent attacks on this pontifical act, are they not the first to provoke\ntheological discussions? We are compelled to take their ground. As Mgr.\nDupanloup judiciously observed, in his pamphlet on the Encyclical of the\n8th December: \u201cIt is needful to recur to first principles in a time when\nthousands of men, and of women even, in France talk theology from morning\nto night without knowing much about it.\u201d\n\nThe first and fundamental question to be determined is: What is the\nprecise weight to be ascribed to the Syllabus, or, rather, what is its\ndoctrinal authority? On the manner in which we reply to this depends the\nsolution of numerous practical difficulties which interest consciences,\nand which have more than once been the subject of the polemic of the\njournals themselves. For example, are the decisions of the Syllabus\nunchangeable; is it not possible that they should be modified some day;\nis it certain they will never be withdrawn; are Catholics obliged to\naccept them as an absolute rule of their beliefs, or may they content\nthemselves with doing nothing exteriorly in opposition to them? It is\nunderstood, in fact, that if we are in presence of an act wherein the\nsuccessor of S. Peter exercises his sovereign and infallible authority,\nthe doctrine is irrevocably, eternally, fixed without possible recall;\nand, by an inevitable corollary, the most complete submission, not of\nthe heart only, but also of the intelligence, becomes an obligation\nbinding on the conscience of the Catholic which admits of no reserve or\nsubterfuge. If, on the contrary, the step taken by the Pope is merely\nan act of good administration or discipline, the door remains open for\nhopes of future changes, the constraint imposed on the minds of men in\nthe interior forum is much less rigorous; a caviller would remain in\nCatholic unity provided that, with the respectful silence so dear to the\nJansenists, he should also practise proper obedience. Now, the question,\nin the terms in which we have stated it, although treated of at various\ntimes by writers of merit, has not always been handled in a complete\nmanner. Writers have been too often contented with generalities, with\napproaching only the question, and nothing has been precisely determined.\n\nSome have asserted, with much energy, the necessity of this submission,\nbut they have not sufficiently defined its extent and nature. Others\nhave dwelt upon the deference and profound respect with which every\nword of the Holy Father should be received, but, not having given any\nfurther explanation, they have left us without the necessary means\nfor ascertaining what precisely they intended. Others have ventured\nto insinuate that the Syllabus was perhaps merely an admonition, a\npaternal advice benevolently given to some rash children, to which such\nas are docile are happy to conform, without feeling themselves under\nthe absolute necessity of adopting it. Others, more adventurous still,\nhave been unwilling to see more in it than a mere piece of information,\nan indication. According to these, Pius IX., wishing to notify to all\nthe bishops of Christendom his principal authoritative acts since the\ncommencement of his pontificate, had caused a list of them to be drawn\nout, and to be forwarded to them. The Syllabus was this illustrious\ncatalogue, neither more nor less.\n\nIs there any excuse to be found for this indecision on one hand,\npresumption on the other? We do not think so; but they do, we must\nconfess, admit of a plausible explanation. And here, let it be observed,\nwe come to the very marrow of the difficulty. The Syllabus was drawn\nout in an unusual form. It resembles no pontifical documents hitherto\npublished. When, in other times, the sovereign pontiffs wished to\nstigmatize erroneous propositions, they did not content themselves\nwith reproducing the terms of them, in order to mark them out for the\nreprobation of the people. They were always careful to explain the\nmotives of the judgment they delivered, and above all to formulate\nwith clearness and precision the judgment itself. Invariably, the\ntexts they singled out for condemnation were preceded by grave and\nweighty words, wherein were explained the reasons for and the nature of\nthe condemnation. In the Syllabus, there is nothing of the kind. The\npropositions, stated without commentary, are classified and distributed\nunder general titles; at the end of each of them we read the indication\nof the Encyclical Letter, or pontifical Allocution, in which it had been\npreviously rebuked. For the rest, there is no preamble, no conclusion,\nno discourse revealing the mind or intention of the pontiff, unless it\nbe the following words, inscribed at the head of the document, and which\nwe here give both in the Latin and in English: _Syllabus complectens\npr\u00e6cipuos nostr\u00e6 \u00e6tatis errores, qui notantur in Allocutionibus\nconsistorialibus, in Encyclicis, aliisque Apostolicis Litteris\nsanctissimi Domini Pap\u00e6 Pii IX._--Table, or synopsis, containing the\nprincipal errors of our epoch, noted in the consistorial Allocutions, the\nEncyclicals, and other Apostolic Letters of our most Holy Father, Pope\nPius IX.\n\nWe may add, that nowhere does the Pope formally express an intention\nof connecting the Syllabus with the bull _Quanta cura_, although he\nissued them both on the same day, at the same hour, under the same\ncircumstances, and upon the same subjects. He left it to the public\ncommon sense and to the faith of Christians to decide whether these two\nacts are to be taken together, or whether they are to be considered as\nisolated acts having no common tie between them.\n\nSuch are the facts. Minds, either troubled or prejudiced, or, may be,\ntoo astute, have drawn from them consequences which, if we lay aside\naccessory details of not much importance here, we may reduce to two\nprincipal ones.\n\nIt has been stated--and they who hold this language form, as it were,\nthe extreme group of opposers--that the Apostolic Letters mentioned in\nthe Syllabus are the only documents which have authoritative force; that\nthe latter, on the contrary, has no proper weight of its own--absolutely\nnone, whether as a dogmatic definition, or as a disciplinary measure,\nor even as a moral and intellectual direction. To these assertions, not\na little hazardous, have been added others whose rashness would fain be\nhidden under the veil of rhetorical artifices. We will lift the veil, and\nexpose the naked assertions. The meaning of the Syllabus, it is stated,\nmust not be looked for in the Syllabus, but in the pontifical letters\nwhence it is drawn. The study of the letters may be useful; not only is\nthat of the Syllabus not so, but it is dangerous, because it often leads\nto lamentable exaggerations. To know the true doctrines of Rome, we must\nsearch the letters for them, not the Syllabus. In fact, to sum up all in\na few words, as a condemnation of error and a manifestation of truth, the\nletters are all, the Syllabus nothing.\n\nThe other group, which we may describe as the moderates, knows how to\nguard itself against excess. It does not diminish the authority of the\nSyllabus to the extent of annihilation. Very far from it--it recognizes\nit and proclaims it aloud; but, struck with the peculiar form given\nto the act, it asserts that it is impossible to discover in it the\nmarks of a dogmatic definition, and, to borrow a stock expression, of\na definition _ex cathedra_. The Syllabus, it is said, is undoubtedly\nsomething by itself--to deny it would be ridiculous and absurd. It has a\nweight of its own; who would venture to dispute it? It may be termed, if\nyou please, an universal law of the church, so only that its pretensions\nbe not carried further, and that it does not claim to be considered an\ninfallible decision of the Vicar of Jesus Christ.\n\nWhat, then, have we to do but to demonstrate that the Syllabus is\nby itself, and independently of the pontifical acts which supply\nthe matter of it, a veritable teaching; that this teaching obliges\nconsciences because it issues from the infallible authority of the head\nof the church? We shall not have omitted, it seems to us, any of the\nconsiderations calculated to throw light on this important subject if,\nafter having thus followed it through all its windings and discussed all\nits difficulties, we succeed in illustrating the triple character of the\npontifical act--its doctrinal character, its obligatory character, and\nits character of infallibility.\n\nTo assert that Pius IX., when he denounced with so much firmness to the\nChristian world the errors of our time, did not propose to teach us\nanything, that he had no intention of instructing us, was, even at the\ntime of the appearance of the Syllabus, to advance a sufficiently hardy\nparadox; but to state it, to maintain it, at this time of day, when we\nare the fortunate witnesses of the effects produced by that immortal\nact, is to speak against evidence. Undoubtedly--we stated it at the\ncommencement--the Syllabus is not sufficiently known nor sufficiently\nstudied. Little known as it may be, however, it cannot be denied that\nit has already set right many ideas, and corrected and enlightened\nmany minds. Thanks to it, not learned men only and those who are close\nobservers of events, but Catholics generally, perceive more clearly the\ndangers with which certain doctrines threaten their faith. They have been\nwarned, they keep themselves on their guard, they see more distinctly\nthe course they must follow and the shoals they must avoid. Pius IX. has\nlighted a torch and placed it in their hands.\n\nThat being the case, what is the use of playing with words, as if\nvain subtleties could destroy the striking evidence of this fact?\nLet them say, as often as they please, \u201cThe Syllabus is only a\nlist, a catalogue, a table of contents, a memorial of previously\ncondemned propositions\u201d--what good will they have done? What matter\nthese denominations, more or less disrespectful, if it be otherwise\ndemonstrated that this list, catalogue, or table of contents explains\nto us exactly what we must believe or reject, and is imposed upon us\nas a rule to which we owe subjection. The imprudent persons who speak\nthus would seem never to have studied the monuments of our beliefs. Had\nthey considered their nature more attentively, would they have allowed\nthemselves to indulge in such intemperance of language? If they would\nmore closely examine them, their illusions would soon be dissipated. Are\nnot all the series of propositions condemned by the Popes, veritable\nlists? Did not Martin V. and the Council of Constance, Leo X. and S.\nPius V., when they smote with their anathemas the errors of Wycliffe,\nJohn Huss, Luther, Ba\u00efus, draw out catalogues? Are not the canons of\nour councils tables in which are inscribed an abridgment, summary,\nor epitome of the impious doctrines of heretics? Is not every solemn\ndefinition, every symbol of the faith, a memorial designed to remind the\nChristian what he is obliged to believe? It is, then, useless to shelter\none\u2019s self behind words of doubtful meaning, and which can only perplex\nthe mind without enlightening it. It is to assume gratuitously the air of\nmen who wish to deceive others and to deceive themselves. What is the use\nof it?\n\nThey are much mistaken who imagine themselves to be proposing a serious\ndifficulty when they demand how the Syllabus, which, before its\npublication, existed already in the letters of the Holy Father, can\npossibly teach us anything new? Let us, for the sake of argument, since\nthey ask it, reduce it to the humble _r\u00f4le_ of echo or reverberator, if\nwe may be pardoned such expressions. Let us suppose that its whole action\nconsists in repeating what has been already said. We ask if an echo does\nnot often convey to the ear a sound which, without it, would not have\nbeen heard--if it does not sometimes send back the sound stronger, more\nresounding, and even more distinct than the original voice? It is not a\nnew voice it brings to us. Be it so. But it does bring it to us in fact,\nand is able to give it to us again fuller and more sonorous.\n\nComparison, it is true, is not reason. We will therefore abandon the\nredundancy of figurative language, and reply directly to the question\nput to us. What is wanted is to know what the Syllabus is in itself,\nindependently of the pontifical letters which are its original sources.\nIt is as follows:\n\nIt is, at least, a new promulgation, more universal, more authentic,\nand therefore more efficacious, of previous condemnations. Now, it is\nwell known, it is a maxim of law, that a second promulgation powerfully\nconfirms and, in case of need, supersedes the first. The history of\nhuman legislation is full of instances of this. When, by reason of the\nnegligence of men, of the difficulty of the times, of the inconstancy\nor waywardness of peoples, a law has fallen into partial neglect and\noblivion, they in whom the sovereign power resides re-establish its\nfailing authority by promulgating it anew. It revives thus, and if it has\nbeen defunct it receives a second life. What can the greater number of\nChristians know of so many scattered condemnations, buried, one may say,\nin the voluminous collection of pontifical encyclicals, if the Syllabus\nhad not revealed them? How could they respect them, how obey them? It was\nnecessary that they should hear them resound, in a manner, a second time,\nin the utterance of the great Pontiff, in order to be able to submit anew\nto their authority, and to resume a yoke of which many of them did not\nknow the very existence. The salvation of the church required this.\n\nThe Syllabus is, however, not only a new promulgation, it is often a\nluminous interpretation of the original documents to which it relates;\nan interpretation at times so necessary that, should it disappear,\nfrom that moment the meaning of those documents would become, on many\npoints, obscure or at least doubtful. It is worthy of remark that in\norder to deny the doctrinal value of the Syllabus the following fact\nis relied on--that it is unaccompanied with any explanation, with any\nreflections. \u201cIt is a dry nomenclature,\u201d it has been said, \u201cof which we\ncannot determine either the character or the end.\u201d Now, it happens to\nbe exactly here that brevity has brought forth light. The eighty-four\npropositions, in fact, isolated from their context, appear to us more\nexact, in stronger relief, more decidedly drawn. One may perceive that in\nthe bulls their forms were, as yet, slightly indistinct; here they detach\nthemselves vividly, and with remarkable vigor. And we wish that all our\nreaders were able to judge of this for themselves. They would better\nunderstand, possibly, wherefore certain men insist with so much energy\non our abandoning the Syllabus and applying ourselves exclusively to the\nsources--an excellent mode of preventing certain questions from becoming\ntoo clear.\n\nWe will cite a few examples in illustration of our argument.\n\nThe second paragraph of the Syllabus has for its object the condemnation\nof _moderate rationalism_. Some of the seven propositions contained in\nit reproduce the doctrine of a man little known in France, but much\nthought of in Germany--a kind of independent Catholic, who, before he\nopposed himself to the church, from which he is now, we believe, quite\nseparated, having transferred his allegiance to the pastoral staff of the\naged Reinkens, wrote some works destined to sow among the students of\nthe university of Munich the damaged grain of infidel science. We allude\nto M. Froschammer, a canon who has lost his hood, professor of misty\nphilosophy, as befits a doctor on the other side of the Rhine. Pius IX.\nrebuked his errors in a letter addressed to the Archbishop of Munich the\n12th December, 1862. We will lay aside the Syllabus, and take merely the\nletter. We shall find in it only the condemnation of M. Froschammer and\nhis works; nothing whatever else. But who, in this our country, France,\nhas ever opened the works of M. Froschammer? The Catholic Frenchman\nwho might read the letter of Pius IX. knowing nothing of the condemned\nworks, would say to himself: \u201cThis Munich professor has doubtless written\naccording to his own fancy; he must have been rash, as every good German\nis bound to be who loses himself in the shadowy mazes of metaphysics.\nAfter all, there is nothing to show that he has written exactly my\nopinions. Why should I trouble myself about the letter of Pius IX.? It\ndoes not concern me.\u201d\n\nAnother example. In Paragraph X. we find the same principle of modern\nliberalism enunciated in the following manner: \u201cIn this our age, it is no\nlonger expedient that the Catholic religion should be considered as the\nonly religion of the state, to the exclusion of all others.\u201d \u201c\u00c6tate hac\nnostra, non amplius expedit religionem Catholicam haberi, tanquam unicam\nstatus religionem, c\u00e6teris quibuscumque cultibus exclusis.\u201d The document\nto which we refer is a consistorial Allocution pronounced the 26th July,\n1855, and it commences with these words, _Nemo vestrum_. What is this\nAllocution? A solemn protest against the criminality of the Spanish\ngovernment, which, in contempt of its word and oath, of the rights of the\nchurch and the eternal laws of justice, had dared to perjure itself by\nabrogating, of its own single authority, the first and second articles\nof the concordat. Pius IX., full of grief, speaks in these terms: \u201cYou\nknow, venerable brethren, how, in this convention, amongst all the\ndecisions relative to the interests of the Catholic religion, we have,\nabove all, established that this holy religion should continue to be the\nonly religion of the Spanish nation, to the exclusion of every other\nworship.\u201d The proposition of the Syllabus is not expressed in any other\nway in the Allocution. A man of great ability, or a scientific man,\ntaking into account the facts, and weighing carefully the expressions of\nthe Pontiff, might perhaps detect it therein. But how many others would\nit wholly escape! How many would not perceive it, or, if they should\nchance to catch sight of it, would remain in suspense, uncertain which\nwas rebuked, the application of the doctrine or the doctrine itself! How\nmany, in short, would be unwilling to recognize, in these words, aught\nbut the sorrowful complaint of the Vicar of Jesus Christ outraged in his\ndearest rights! Return, however, to the Syllabus, and that which was\nobscure comes to light and manifests itself clearly. The two propositions\nwe have cited do not appear, in it, confused or uncertain. Detached, on\nthe contrary, from the particular circumstances which were calculated\nto weaken their meaning, and clad in a form more lofty, more universal,\nmore abstract, they receive an unspeakable signification. No hesitation\nis possible. It is no longer the doctrine of M. Froschammer, nor the\nsacrilegious usurpations of the Spanish government, which are rebuked;\nit is but the doctrine considered in itself and in its substance. And\nsince the Roman Pontiff, after having isolated it, fixes on it a mark of\nreprobation by declaring it erroneous, he denounces it to all ages and\nall people as deserving the everlasting censure of the church.\n\nIt is for this reason, as far as ourselves, at least, are concerned, we\nshall never accept without restriction a phrase which we find, under one\nform or other, in all directions, even from the pen of writers for whom\nwe entertain, in other respects, the highest esteem: \u201cThe Syllabus has\nonly a relative value, a value subordinate to that of the pontifical\ndocuments of which it is the epitome.\u201d No! We are unable to admit an\nappreciation of it, in our opinion, so full of danger. We must not allow\nourselves to weaken truth if we would maintain its salutary dominion\nover souls. They talk of the value of the Syllabus. What is meant by\nthis? Its authority? It derives that most undoubtedly from itself, and\nfrom the sovereign power of him who published it. It is as much an act\nof that supreme authority as the letters or encyclicals to which it\nalludes. The meaning of the propositions it contains? Doubtless many of\nthese, if we thus refer to their origin, will receive from it a certain\nillustration. Others, and they are not the fewest, will either lose there\ntheir precision, or will rather shed more light upon it than they receive\nfrom it. Between the two assertions--The pontifical letters explain the\nSyllabus, and, The Syllabus explains the pontifical letters--the second\nis, with a few exceptions, the most rigorously true. A very simple\nargument demonstrates it. Suppose that, by accident or an unforeseen\ncatastrophe, one or other of these documents were to perish and not leave\nany trace of its existence, which is the one whose preservation we should\nmost have desired, in order that the mind of Pius IX. and the judgment of\nthe church concerning the errors of our age might be transmitted more\nsurely to future generations?\n\nMost fertile in subtleties is the mind of man when he wishes to escape\nfrom a duty that molests him. We must not, consequently, be astonished\nif many opponents of the Syllabus have lighted on ingenious distinctions\nwhich allow of their almost admitting, in theory, the doctrines we have\njust explained, whilst contriving to elude their practical consequences.\nFor that, what have they done? They have acknowledged the real authority\nof this grand act in so far as it is a doctrinal declaration, or, if it\nis preferred, a manifestation of doctrine; adding, nevertheless, that\nthe Pope has not imposed it on us in the way of obligation, but _only\nin the way of guidance_. The expression, only in the way of guidance,\nwould have been a happy enough invention, had it been possible, in\nmatter so important, and in an act so solemn, to imagine a guidance\ntruly efficacious--such, for instance, as the Pope could not but wish\nit to be--which would not be an obligation. But we ourselves must avoid\nreasoning with too much subtlety, and content ourselves with opposing a\ndifficulty more specious than solid with a few positive proofs.\n\nWe interpose, in the first place, the very title of the Syllabus: \u201cTable,\nor abridgment, of the principal errors of our time, pointed out in\nconsistorial Allocutions,\u201d etc. To which we add the titles of various\nparagraphs: \u201cErrors in relation to the church\u201d; \u201cErrors in relation to\ncivil society\u201d; \u201cErrors concerning natural and Christian morals,\u201d etc.\nFor the Pope, the guardian and protector of truth, obliged by the duty\nof his office to hinder the church from suffering any decline or any\nalteration, to denounce to the Christian world a doctrine by inflicting\non it the brand of error, is evidently to forbid the employment of\nit, and to command all the faithful to eschew it. What communion is\nthere between light and darkness, between life and death? There can\nbe no question about guidance or counsel when the supreme interest\nis at stake. The duty speaks for itself. It is imposed by the nature\nof things. When Pius IX. placed at the head of his Syllabus the word\n\u201cerror,\u201d and intensified it by adding words even more significant, when\nhe expressed himself thus, \u201cPrincipal errors of this our age,\u201d he as good\nas said, \u201cHere is death! Avoid it.\u201d And if, in order still to escape\nfrom the consequences, a distinction is attempted to be drawn between\nan obligation created by the force of circumstances and an obligation\nimposed by the legislator, we would wish it to be remembered that the\nsame Pius IX. uttered, in reference to the Syllabus, the following\nmemorable sentence: \u201cWhen the Pope speaks in a solemn act, it is to be\ntaken literally; what he has said, he intended to say.\u201d For our part, we\nwould say, \u201cWhat the Pope has done, he intended to do.\u201d\n\nBut what need is there of so much discussion? The proof of what we\nhave urged is written in express terms in the letter accompanying the\nSyllabus--a letter signed by his eminence Cardinal Antonelli, secretary\nof state, and intended to make known to the bishops the will of His\nHoliness. It is sufficient to quote this decisive document, which we do\nin full, on account of its importance:\n\n    \u201cMOST REVEREND EXCELLENCY:\n\n    \u201cOur Holy Father, Pope Pius IX., profoundly solicitous for\n    the safety of souls and of holy doctrine, has never ceased,\n    since the commencement of his pontificate, to proscribe and to\n    condemn by his encyclicals, his consistorial Allocutions, and\n    other apostolic letters already published, the most important\n    errors and false doctrines, above all, those of our unhappy\n    times. But since it may come to pass that all the political\n    acts reach not every one of the ordinaries, it has seemed\n    good to the same sovereign Pontiff that a Syllabus should be\n    drawn out of these same errors, to be sent to all the bishops\n    of the Catholic world, _in order that these same bishops may\n    have before their eyes all the errors and pernicious doctrines\n    which have been reproved and condemned by him_. He has\n    therefore commanded me to see that this printed Syllabus be\n    sent to your most reverend excellency, on this occasion, and\n    at this time. When the same sovereign Pontiff, in consequence\n    of his great solicitude for the safety and well-being of the\n    Catholic Church, and of the whole flock which has been divinely\n    committed to him by the Lord, has thought it expedient to write\n    another encyclical letter to all the Catholic bishops, thus\n    executing, as is my duty, with all befitting zeal and respect,\n    the orders of the same Pontiff, I hasten to send to your\n    excellency this Syllabus with this letter.\u201d\n\nThis Syllabus, placed by the order of the Holy Father \u201cbefore the eyes\nof all the bishops,\u201d what else is it, we ask, than the text of the\nlaw brought under the observation of the judges charged with the duty\nof causing it to be executed? What is it except a rule to which they\nowe allegiance, and from which they must not swerve? They must not\nlose sight of it. Wherefore? Because it is their duty to be careful\nto promulgate its doctrine in their own teaching, because it is their\nduty to repress every rash opinion which should dare to raise itself\nagainst and contradict it. It is thus that all have understood the\ncommandment given to them. The fidelity and unconquerable courage of\ntheir obedience prove it. What has taken place in France? In the midst\nof the universal emotion produced by the appearance of the Syllabus, the\ngovernment, abusing its power, had the sad audacity to constitute itself\njudge of it. Through the instrumentality of the keeper of the seals,\nminister of justice and of public worship, it forbade the publication\nof the pontifical document in any pastoral instruction, alleging that\n\u201cit contained propositions contrary to the principles on which the\nconstitution of the empire rests.\u201d What was the unanimous voice of the\nepiscopate? Eighty-four letters of bishops are in existence to bear\nwitness to it. All, united in the same mind, opposed to the ministerial\nletter the invincible word of the apostles, _Non possumus_. All declared\nthat they must obey God rather then man; and two amongst them, ascending\ncourageously their cathedral thrones, braved the menaces of a susceptible\ngovernment by reading before the assembled people that which they had\nbeen forbidden to print. Could they have acted all alike with this power\ntruly episcopal, if they had not been inspired by the conviction that\nthey were fulfilling a duty, and putting into practice the adage of the\nChristian knights, \u201cI do my duty, happen what may\u201d?\n\nWe will insist no further on this point. We approach, lastly, the\nquestion which might well supersede all the others. Let us enquire\nwhether the Syllabus is an infallible decision of the Vicar of Jesus\nChrist.\n\nIt appears to us that, in reality, we have already settled this question.\nCan a definition _ex cathedra_ be anything else than an instruction\nconcerning faith and morals addressed to, and imposed on, the whole\nchurch by her visible head upon earth? How can we recognize it except\nby this mark, and is not that the idea given to us of it by the Council\nof the Vatican? Read over the words, so weighty and selected with so\nmuch care by the fathers of that august assembly, and you will find that\nnothing could express more accurately the exact and precise notion of it.\nAfter that, all doubts ought to disappear. The Syllabus emanates from\nhim who is the master and sovereign doctor of Catholic truth. It belongs\nexclusively to faith and morals by the nature of the subjects of which\nit treats. It has received from the circumstances which have accompanied\nits publication the manifest character of an universal law of the church.\nWhat is wanting to it to be an irreformable decision, an act without\nappeal, of the infallible authority of Peter?\n\nWe know the objection with which we shall be met. Peter may speak, it\nwill be urged, and not wish to exert the plenitude of his doctrinal\npower. Yes; but when he restrains thus within voluntary limits the\nexercise of his authority, he gives us to understand it clearly. He\nis careful, in order not to overtax our weakness, to apprise us that,\nnotwithstanding the obligation with which he binds consciences, it is not\nin his mind, as yet, to deliver a definitive sentence upon the doctrine.\nFrankly, does the Syllabus offer to us an indication, however faint, of\nany such reserve? What more definitive than a judgment formulated in\nthese terms: \u201cThis is error, that is truth\u201d? Is any revision possible\nof such a judgment? Is it possible to be revoked or abrogated? Does it\nnot settle us necessarily in an absolute conclusion which excludes all\npossibility of diminution or of change? In a word, can the assertion\nbe ever permissible--\u201cError in these days, truth in others\u201d? It may be\nadded that, by the admission of all, friends and enemies--an admission\nconfirmed by the declaration of the cardinal secretary of state, the\nSyllabus is an appendix to, and as it were a continuation of, the bull\n_Quanta cura_, to which no one can reasonably refuse the character of\na definitive and irreformable decree; and it will be understood how\nunreasonable it would be to despise the evidence of facts, in order to\ncling to an objection without consistency, and which falls of itself for\nwant of a solid foundation.\n\nFor the rest, the mind of the Holy Father is not concealed, as has been\nat times suggested, under impenetrable veils. It appears the moment\nwe look for it; and we find it, for example, in the preparation of\nthe Syllabus. It should be known that the Syllabus was not the work\nof a day. Pius IX. has often asserted this. He had early resolved to\nstrike a signal blow, and to destroy from top to bottom the monstrous\nedifice of revolutionary doctrines. To this end, immediately after the\nproclamation of the dogma of the Immaculate Conception, he transformed\nthe congregation of cardinals and theologians who had aided him in the\naccomplishment of that work into a congregation charged with the duty of\nsingling out for the Apostolic See the new errors which, for a century,\nhad been ravaging the church of God. Ten years passed away; encyclicals\nwere published, allocutions pronounced; the theologians multiplied\ntheir labors. At length, on the 8th of December, 1864, the moment of\naction appearing to have arrived, Pius IX. addressed to the world that\nutterance whose prolonged echoes we all have heard. The bull _Quanta\ncura_ and the Syllabus were promulgated. It is obvious that an act so\nlong prepared, and with so much anxiety, cannot be likened to an ordinary\nact. The object of the Pontiff was not simply to check the evil--it was\nto uproot it. The object of such efforts could not have been to determine\nnothing. Who is there, then, who will venture to assert that the whole\nthought of an entire reign, and of such a reign as that of Pius IX.,\nshould miserably collapse in a measure without authority and without\neffectiveness? To believe it would be an outrage; to affirm it would be\nan insult to the wisdom and prudence of the most glorious of pontiffs.\n\nBut what need is there for searching for proofs? A single reflection\nbanishes every difficulty. We have in the church two means for\nascertaining whether a pontifical act is, or is not, a sovereign\ndefinition, an infallible decision. We have to enquire of the pontiff\nwho is the author of it, or the people who subordinate themselves to\nhis teaching. Neither one nor the other can deceive us in the answer\nthey give. The divine promise continues equally assured in both: in the\nformer, when he teaches; in the latter, when they listen and obey. It is\nwhat the theologians call active and passive infallibility. Admit that\nPius IX. had left us in ignorance; that he published the Syllabus, but\ndid not tell us what amount of assent he required of us. Well, none of\nus are in any doubt as to that. How many times has not this people said,\nhow many times has it not repeated with an enthusiasm inspired by love,\nthat this Syllabus, despised, insulted by the enemies of the church,\nthey accept as the rule of their beliefs, as the very word of Peter, as\nthe word of life come down from heaven to save us. Is it not thus that\nhave spoken, one after the other, bishops, theologians, the learned and\nthe ignorant, the mighty and the humble? Who amongst us has not heard\nthis language? A celebrated doctor, Tanner, has said that in order to\ndistinguish amongst the teachings of the church those which belong to its\ninfallible authority, we must listen to the judgment of wise men, and\nabove all consult the universal sentiment of Christians. If we adhere to\nthis decision, it reveals to us our duties in regard to the sovereign act\nby which Pius IX. has withdrawn the world from the shadow in which it was\nlosing its way, and has prepared for it a future of better destinies.\n\nWe have the more reason for acting thus as hell, by its furious hatred,\ngives us, for its part, a similar warning, and proclaims, after its\nfashion, the imperishable grandeur of the Syllabus. Neither has it, nor\nhave those who serve it, ever been under any illusion in this respect.\nThey have often revealed their mind both by act and word. What implacable\nindignation! what torrents of insults! what clamor without truce or\nmercy! And when importunate conciliators interfered to tell them they\nwere mistaken, that the Syllabus was nothing or next to nothing, and need\nnot provoke so much anger, how well they knew how to reply to them and to\nbury them under the weight of their contempt! At the end of 1864, at the\nmoment when the struggle occasioned by the promulgation of the Encyclical\nand Syllabus was the most furious, an agency of Parisian publicity, the\nagency Bullier, could insert the following notice: \u201cThe Encyclical is\nnot a dogmatic bull, but only a doctrinal letter. It is observable that\nthe Syllabus does not bear the signature of the Pope. This Syllabus\nhas besides been published in a manner to allow us to believe that the\nHoly Father did not intend to assign to it a great importance. One may\nconclude, therefore, that the propositions which do not attack either the\ndogma or morals of Catholics, and do not at all impeach faith, are not\ncondemned, but merely blamed.\u201d To these words, poor in sense, but crafty\nand treacherous in expression, the journal _Le Si\u00e8cle_ replied as follows:\n\n\u201cThere are now people who tell us that the Encyclical is not a dogmatic\nbull, but a doctrinal letter; that the eighty propositions are not\ncondemned, because they do not figure in the Encyclical, but only in the\nSyllabus; that this Syllabus does not bear the signature of the Pope;\nthat it has been composed only by a commission of theologians, etc. These\npeople would do better to be silent. Encyclical or Syllabus, the fact is\nthat the theocracy has just hurled as haughty a defiance against modern\nideas as it was possible for it to do. We shall soon see what will be the\nresult.\u201d\n\nWe will leave them to settle their quarrels between themselves. For\nourselves, listening to these voices of heaven and of hell, of the church\nand of the world, which coincide in exalting the work eternally blessed\nby Pius IX., we repeat with profounder conviction than ever: \u201cYes, the\nSyllabus is the infallible word of Peter; and if our modern society is\nwithin the reach of cure, it is by the Syllabus that it is to be saved!\u201d\n\n\nSIR THOMAS MORE.\n\n_A HISTORICAL ROMANCE._\n\nFROM THE FRENCH OF THE PRINCESSE DE CRAON.\n\nI.\n\nIn a sumptuous apartment, whose magnificent furniture and costly\nadornings announced it as the abode of kings, in a large Gothic\narm-chair--whose massive sides were decorated with carvings in ebony and\nivory of exquisite delicacy, and which was in itself, altogether, a model\nof the most skilful workmanship--there reclined the form of a stately and\nelegant woman.\n\nHer small feet, but half-concealed beneath the heavy folds of a rich\nblue velvet robe, rested on a footstool covered with crimson brocade,\nembroidered with golden stars. Bands of pearls adorned her beautiful\nneck, contrasted with its dazzling whiteness, and were profusely twined\namid the raven tresses of her luxuriant hair. An expression of profound\nmelancholy was imprinted upon her noble features; her eyes were cast\ndown, and the long, drooping lashes were heavy with tears which she\nseemed vainly endeavoring to repress, as she sat absorbed in thought, and\nnervously entwining her snowy fingers with the silk and jewelled cord\nwhich, according to the fashion of that day, she wore fastened at her\ngirdle and hanging to her feet. This royal personage was Catherine of\nAragon, daughter of Ferdinand and Isabella of Spain, wife of Henry VIII.,\nand queen of England.\n\nThe king himself was hurriedly pacing to and fro in the apartment, with\ncontracted brow, a deeply troubled expression gleaming from his dark eyes\nand obscuring, with a shade of gloomy fierceness, the naturally fine\nfeatures of his face. The ordinary grace of his carriage had disappeared;\nhis step was hurried and irregular; and every movement denoted a man\nlaboring under some violent excitement. From time to time he approached\nthe window, and gazed abstractedly into the distance; then, returning\nto Catherine, he would address her abruptly, with a sharp expression or\nhurried interrogation, neither waiting for nor seeming to desire a reply.\n\nWhile this strange scene was being enacted within the palace at\nGreenwich, one of an entirely different nature was occurring in the\ncourtyard. From the road leading from Greenwich a cavalcade approached,\nheaded by a personage invested with the Roman purple, and apparently\nentitled to and surrounded by all the \u201cpomp and circumstance\u201d of royalty.\nHe was mounted on a richly caparisoned mule with silver-plated harness,\nadorned with silver bells and tufted with knots of crimson silk. This\ndistinguished personage was no other than the Archbishop of York, the\npotent minister, who united in his person all the dignities both of\nchurch and state--the Cardinal Legate, the king\u2019s acknowledged favorite,\nWolsey. To increase his already princely possessions, to extend his\ninfluence and authority, had been this man\u2019s constant endeavor, and the\nsole aim of his life. And so complete had been his success that he was\nnow regarded by all as an object of admiration and envy. But how greatly\nmistaken was the world in its opinion!\n\nIn his heart, Wolsey suffered the constant agony of a profound\nhumiliation. Compelled to yield in all things, and bow with servile\nsubmission to the haughty will of his exacting and imperious master--who\nby a word, and in a moment, could deprive him of his dignities and\ntemporalities--he lived in a state of constant dread, fearing to lose the\npatronage and favor to secure which he had sacrificed both his honor and\nhis conscience.\n\nHe was accompanied on this journey by a numerous retinue, composed\nof gentlemen attached to his household and young pages carrying his\nstandard, all of whom were eagerly pressing upon him the most obsequious\nattentions. They assisted him to dismount, and as he approached the\npalace the guards saluted and received him with the utmost military\ndeference and respect; and with an air of grave dignity Wolsey passed on,\nand disappeared beneath the arch of the grand stairway.\n\nLet us again return to the royal apartments. The king, seeing Wolsey\narrive, immediately turned from the window and, confronting Catherine,\nabruptly exclaimed:\n\n\u201cCome, madam, I wish you to retire; the affairs of my kingdom demand\ninstantly all my time and attention.\u201d And hastily turning to the window,\nhe looked eagerly into the courtyard.\n\nCatherine arose without uttering a word, and approaching the centre of\nthe apartment she took from the table a small silver bell, and rang it\ntwice.\n\nOn this table was a magnificent cloth cover that she had embroidered\nwith her own hands. The design represented a tournament, in which Henry,\nwho was devoted to chivalrous amusements, had borne off the prize over\nall his competitors. In those days her husband received such presents\nwith grateful affection and sincere appreciation, and, as the souvenir\nrecalled to her mind the joy and happiness of the past, tears of\nbitterness flowed afresh from the eyes of the unhappy princess.\n\nIn answer to her signal, the door soon opened, the queen\u2019s ladies in\nwaiting appeared, and, arranging themselves on either side, stood in\nreadiness to follow their royal mistress. She passed out, and was slowly\nwalking in silence through the vast gallery leading to the king\u2019s\napartments, when Wolsey appeared, advancing from the opposite end of the\ngallery, followed by his brilliant retinue.\n\nCatherine, then, instantly understood why the king had so abruptly\ncommanded her to retire. Suddenly pausing, she stood transfixed and\nimmovable, her soul overwhelmed with anguish; but, with a countenance\ncalm and impassible, she awaited the approach of the cardinal, who\nadvanced to salute her. In spite of all her efforts, however, she could\nno longer control her feelings.\n\n\u201cMy lord cardinal,\u201d she exclaimed in a low voice, trembling with emotion,\n\u201cgo, the king waits for you!\u201d And as she uttered these words, the\nunhappy woman fell senseless to the floor.\n\nThe hardened soul of the ambitious Wolsey was moved to its very depths\nwith compassion as he silently gazed on the noble woman before him, who\npossessed the unbounded love and grateful esteem of all her household,\nnot only as their sovereign, but also as their beneficent mother.\n\nThe cloud of ambition that forever surrounded him, darkening his soul and\nobscuring his perceptions, was for the moment illuminated, and for the\nfirst time he realized the enormity of Henry\u2019s proceedings against the\nqueen.\n\nAs this sudden light flashed on him, he felt remorse for having\nencouraged the divorce, and resolved that henceforward all his influence\nshould be used to dissuade his sovereign from it.\n\nAt the approach of the royal favorite the ushers hastily made their\nsalutations (although the queen had been permitted to pass them with\nscarcely the slightest mark of respect), and seemed to consider the\nmost humble and servile attitude they could assume before him as only\nsufficiently respectful. They hastened to throw open the doors before\nhim as he advanced, and Wolsey soon found himself in the presence of the\nking, who awaited his arrival in a state of almost angry impatience.\n\n\u201cWell! what do you come to tell me?\u201d he cried. \u201cDo you bring me good\nnews?\u201d\n\nWolsey, whose opinions had so recently undergone a very great change,\nfor a moment hesitated. \u201cSire,\u201d he at length replied, \u201cCampeggio, the\ncardinal legate, has arrived.\u201d\n\n\u201cHas he indeed?\u201d said Henry, with an ironical smile. \u201cAfter so many\nunsuccessful applications, we have then, at last, obtained this favor.\nWell, I hope now this affair will proceed more rapidly; and, Wolsey,\nremember that it is your business so entirely to compromise and surround\nthis man, that he shall not be able even to _think_ without my consent\nand sanction. And, above all, beware of the intrigues of the queen.\nCatherine is a Spaniard, with an artful, unyielding nature and fierce,\nindomitable will. She will, without doubt, make the most determined and\ndesperate effort to enlist the legate in favor of her cause.\u201d\n\n\u201cIs the decision of your majesty irrevocable on the subject of this\ndivorce?\u201d replied Wolsey, in a hesitating and embarrassed manner. \u201cThe\nfarther we advance, the more formidable the accumulating difficulties\nbecome. I must acknowledge, sire, I begin myself to doubt of success.\nCampeggio has already declared that, if the queen appeals to Rome, he\nwill not refuse to present her petition, and defend her cause; that\nhe himself will decide nothing, and will yield to nothing he cannot\nconscientiously approve.\u201d\n\nOn hearing Wolsey express these sentiments, Henry\u2019s face flushed with\nrage, and a menacing scowl contracted his brow.\n\n\u201cCan it be possible,\u201d he cried, \u201cthat you dare address me in this manner?\nI will castigate the Pope himself if he refuses his sanction. He shall\nmeasure his power with mine! He trembles because Charles V. is already on\nhis frontier. I will make him tremble now, in my turn! I will marry Anne\nBoleyn--yes, I will marry her before the eyes of the whole world!\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat do you say, sire? Anne Boleyn!\u201d cried Wolsey.\n\n\u201cYes, Anne Boleyn!\u201d replied the king, regarding Wolsey with his usual\nhaughty and contemptuous expression. \u201cYou know her well. She is attached\nto the service of Catherine.\u201d\n\n\u201cLady Anne Boleyn!\u201d again cried Wolsey after a moment\u2019s silence, for\nastonishment had almost for the time rendered him speechless and\nbreathless. \u201cLady Anne Boleyn! The King of England, the great Henry,\nwishes, then, to marry Anne Boleyn! Why, if contemplating such a marriage\nas that, did you send me to seek the alliance of France, and to offer the\nhand of your daughter in marriage to the Duke of Orleans? And why did\nyou instruct me to declare to Francis I. that your desire was to place\non the throne of England a princess of his blood? It was only by these\nrepresentations and promises that I succeeded in inducing him to sign the\ntreaty which deprived Catherine of all assistance. You have assured me of\nyour entire approval of these negotiations. This alliance with France was\nthe only means by which to secure for yourself any real defence against\nthe Pope and the Emperor. Do you suppose that Charles V. will quietly\npermit you to deprive his aunt of her position and title as queen of\nEngland?\u201d Here Wolsey paused, wholly transported with indignation.\n\n\u201cCharles!\u201d replied the king, \u201cCharles? I can easily manage and pacify him\nby fine promises and long negotiations. As to our Holy Father, I will\nstir up strife enough to fill his hands so full that he will not be able\nto attend to anything else. The quarrels of Austria and France always\nend by recoiling on his head, and I imagine he will not soon forget the\nsacking Rome and his former imprisonment.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, but you forget,\u201d said Wolsey, \u201cthat the King of France will\naccuse you of flagrant bad faith: and will you bring on yourself their\nabhorrence in order to espouse Anne Boleyn?\u201d\n\nThe minister pronounced these last words with an expression and in a\ntone of such contemptuous scorn as to arouse in a fearful degree the\nindignation of the king, accustomed only to the flattery and servile\nadulation of his courtiers. At the same time, he was compelled to feel\nthe force of the cardinal\u2019s reasoning, although the truth only served\nstill more to irritate and enrage him.\n\n\u201cCease, Wolsey!\u201d cried Henry, fixing his flashing eyes fiercely upon him;\n\u201cI am not here to listen to your complaints. I shall marry whom I please;\nand your head shall answer for the fidelity with which you assist me in\nexecuting my will.\u201d\n\n\u201cMy head, sire,\u201d replied Wolsey courageously, \u201chas long belonged to you;\nmy entire life has been devoted to your service; and yet I shall most\nprobably, in the end, have bitter cause to repent having always made\nmyself subservient to your wishes. But your majesty will surely reflect\nmore seriously on the dishonor you will necessarily incur by such a\nchoice as this. The queen\u2019s party will grow stronger and stronger, and I\ntell you frankly, I fear lest the legate be inflexible.\u201d\n\n\u201cWolsey,\u201d cried Henry, elevating his voice in a threatening manner, \u201cI\nhave already declared my intentions--is that not sufficient? As to the\nlegate, I repeat, he must be gained over to my cause. Gold and flattery\nwill soon secure to us that tender conscience whose scruples you now so\nsorely apprehend. Bring him to me to-morrow.\u201d\n\n\u201cHe is suffering too much, sire. The cardinal is aged and very infirm; I\nhave no idea he will be in a condition to see your majesty for several\ndays yet.\u201d\n\n\u201cToo long, entirely too long to wait!\u201d replied the king. \u201cI must see him\nthis very day; he shall be compelled to make his appearance. I wish you\nto be present also, as we shall discuss affairs of importance, and then I\nshall depart.\u201d\n\nWith these words Henry withdrew and went to look for a casket, of which\nhe alone carried the key, and in which he usually kept his most valuable\nand important papers.\n\nDuring his absence, Wolsey remained leaning on the table, before which\nhe was seated, absorbed in deep and painful reflections. He feared Henry\ntoo much to oppose him long in any of his designs; besides, he saw no\npossible means to induce him to change his resolution. He had felt, as\nwe have seen, a momentary compassion for the misfortunes of the queen,\nbut that impression had been speedily effaced by considerations of far\ngreater moment to himself.\n\nAs a shrewd diplomatist, he regretted the alliance with France; besides,\nhe was really too much interested in the welfare of the king not to\ndeplore his determination to contract such a marriage.\n\nBut the cause of his deepest anxiety was the knowledge he possessed of\nAnne\u2019s great dislike for him, and the consciousness that her family\nand counsellors were his rivals and enemies; in consequence of which\nhe clearly foresaw they would induce her to use all the influence she\npossessed with the king in order to deprive him of Henry\u2019s favor\nand patronage. He was suffering this mental conflict when the king\nreappeared, bearing a bronze casket carved with rare perfection. Placing\nit on the table, he unlocked it. Among a great many papers which it\ncontained was a very handsome book, the printing beautifully executed,\nand every page ornamented with arabesques exquisitely tinted and shaded.\nThe cover, formed of two metal plates, represented in bass-relief the\nfigures of Faith, Hope, and Charity as young virgins, bearing in their\nhands and on their foreheads the allegorical emblems of those sublime\nChristian virtues. Emeralds of immense value, surrounded by heavy gold\nsettings, adorned the massive gold clasps, and also served to hold them\nfirmly in their places.\n\nOn the back of this book, deeply engraven in the metal, were the\nfollowing words: _The Seven Sacraments_. Henry had written this work\nin defence of the ancient dogmas of the Catholic Church, when first\nattacked by the violent doctrines of a monk named Luther. Whether the\nking had really composed it himself, or whether he had caused it to be\nsecretly done by another, and wished to enjoy the reputation of being\nthe author, he certainly attached great importance to the work. Not only\nhad he distributed it throughout his own kingdom, but had sent it to the\nPope and to all the German princes, through the Dean of Windsor, whom he\ninstructed to say that he was ready to defend the faith, not only with\nhis pen but, if need be, with his sword also. It was at that time that he\nasked and obtained from the court of Rome the title of \u201cDefender of the\nFaith.\u201d\n\nNow he was constantly busy with a manuscript, which he took from the\nmysterious casket, containing a Treatise on Divorce, and to which he\nevery day devoted several hours. Greatly pleased with a number of\narguments he had just found, he came to communicate them to Wolsey. The\nlatter, after urging several objections, at length reminded him of the\nfraudulent and persistent means that had been employed to extract from\nthe University of Oxford an opinion favorable to divorce. \u201cAnd yet,\u201d\nadded the cardinal, \u201cit has been found impossible to prevent them from\nincreasing the number of most important restrictions, and thus rendering\nyour case exceedingly difficult, if not entirely hopeless.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat!\u201d said the king, \u201cafter the good example of the University of\nCambridge, are we still to encounter scruples? Consider it well,\ncardinal, in order not to forget the recompense, and, above all, the\npunishment, for that is the true secret of success! You will also take\ncare to write to the Elector Frederick, and say that I wait to receive\nthe humble apologies of that man Luther, whom he has taken so entirely\nunder his protection.\u201d\n\n\u201cSire,\u201d replied the cardinal, \u201cI have received frequent intelligence with\nregard to that matter which I have scarcely dared communicate to you.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd why not?\u201d demanded the king. \u201cDo you presume, my lord cardinal, that\nthe abuse of an obscure and turbulent monk can affect me? And besides, to\ntell you the truth, I do not know but this man may, after all, be useful\nto me. He has attracted the attention of the court of Rome, and may yet\nhave to crave my protection.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, sire, since you compel me to speak, I will tell you that, far\nfrom making humble apologies, his violence against you has redoubled. I\nhave just received a tract he has recently published. In it I find many\npassages where, in speaking of you, he employs the most abusive epithets\nand expressions. For instance, he repeatedly declares that your majesty\n\u2018is a fool, an ass, and a madman,\u2019 that you are \u2018coarser than a hog,\nand more stupid than a jackass.\u2019 He speaks with equal scurrility of our\nHoly Father the Pope, addressing him, in terms of the most unparalleled\neffrontery, this pretended warning, which is of course intended simply\nas an insult: \u2018My petit Paul, my petit Pope, my young ass, walk\ncarefully--it is very slippery--you may fall and break your legs. You\nwill surely hurt yourself, and then people will say, \u201cWhat the devil does\nthis mean? The petit Pope has hurt himself.\u201d\u2019 Further on, I find this\nridiculous comparison, which could only emanate from a vile and shameless\npen: \u2018The ass knows that he is an ass, the stone knows that it is a\nstone, but these asses of popes are unable to recognize themselves as\nasses.\u2019 He concludes at length with these words, which fill the measure\nof his impiety and degradation: \u2018If I were ruler of an empire, I would\nmake a bundle of the Pope and his cardinals, and throw them altogether\ninto that little pond, the Tuscan Sea. I pledge my word that such a bath\nwould restore their health, and I pledge Jesus Christ as my security!\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat fearful blasphemy!\u201d cried Henry. \u201cCould a Christian possibly be\nsupposed to utter such absurd, blasphemous vulgarities? I trow not! This\npretended \u2018reformer\u2019 of the \u2018discipline and abuses of the church\u2019 seems\nto possess any other than an evangelical character. No one can doubt his\ndivine mission and his Christian charity! A man who employs arguments\nlike these is too vile and too contemptible to be again mentioned in my\npresence. Let me hear no more of this intolerable apostate! Proceed now\nwith business.\u201d\n\n\u201cSire,\u201d then continued the cardinal, presenting a list to the king,\n\u201chere are the names of several candidates I wish you to consider for\nthe purpose of appointing a treasurer of the exchequer. Thomas More has\nalready filled, most honorably, a number of offices of public trust, and\nis also a man of equal ability and integrity. I recommend him to your\nmajesty for this office.\u201d\n\n\u201cI approve your selection most unhesitatingly,\u201d replied the king. \u201cI am\nextremely fond of More, and perfectly satisfied with the manner in which\nhe has performed his official duties heretofore. You will so inform him\nfrom me. What next?\u201d\n\n\u201cI would also petition your majesty that Cromwell be confirmed as\nintendant-general of the monasteries latterly transformed into colleges.\u201d\n\n\u201cWho is this Cromwell?\u201d inquired Henry. \u201cI have no recollection of him.\u201d\n\n\u201cSire,\u201d replied Wolsey, \u201che is of obscure birth, the son of a fuller of\nthis city. He served in the Italian wars in his youth; afterwards he\napplied himself to the study of law. His energies and abilities are such\nas to entitle him to the favorable consideration of your majesty.\u201d\n\n\u201cLet him be confirmed as you desire,\u201d replied the king very graciously,\nas he proceeded to sign the different commissions intended for the newly\nappointed officials.\n\n\u201cI wish,\u201d he added, regarding Wolsey with a keen, searching glance, \u201cthat\nyou would find some position for a young ecclesiastic called Cranmer, who\nhas been strongly recommended to me for office.\u201d\n\nThe brow of the cardinal contracted into a heavy frown as he heard the\nname of a man but too well known to him. He immediately divined that it\nwas from Anne Boleyn alone the king had received this recommendation.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nIn the meantime, the queen had been carried to her apartments. The\ndevoted efforts of the ladies of her household, who surrounded her with\nthe tenderest ministrations, soon recalled her to the consciousness and\nfull realization of her misery.\n\nNow the night has come, and found Catherine still seated before the\ngrate, absorbed in deep thought. Born under the soft skies of Spain,\nshe had never become acclimated, nor accustomed to the humid, foggy\natmosphere of England. Like a delicate plant torn from its native soil,\nshe sighed unceasingly for the balmy air and the golden sunlight of\nher own genial southern clime. Such regrets, added to the sorrows she\nhad experienced, had thrown her into a state of habitual melancholy,\nfrom which nothing could arouse her, and which the slightest occurrence\nsufficed to augment. For a long time her firmness of character had\nsustained her; but her health beginning to fail, and no longer able\nto arouse the energy and courage which had before raised her above\nmisfortune, she sank beneath the burden and abandoned herself to hopeless\nsorrow.\n\nAs she sat all alone in her chamber, she held in her hand a letter but\nrecently received from her native country. Reading it slowly, she mused,\ndreaming of the days of her happy childhood, when suddenly the door was\nopened, and a young girl, apparently ten or twelve years of age, ran\nin and threw her arms around the neck of the queen. The figure of the\nchild was slight and graceful; around her waist was tied a broad sash\nof rose-colored ribbon, with long ends floating over her white muslin\ndress; her beautiful blonde hair was drawn back from her forehead and\nfastened with bows of ribbon, leaving exposed a lovely little face\nglowing with animation and spirit, and a frank, ingenuous expression,\nat once prepossessing and charming. This was the Princess Mary, the\ndaughter of Henry, the future consort of a Spanish prince, to whom the\nshrewd diplomatist Wolsey had promised her hand, in order to deprive the\nunfortunate mother of this her only remaining consolation.\n\n\u201cWhy is it, my dearest mamma,\u201d she exclaimed, \u201cthat you are again in\ntears?\u201d And, laughingly, she took the handkerchief from the queen and put\nit to her own eyes, pretending to weep.\n\n\u201cSee now, this is the way I shall do when I am grown up, for it seems to\nme grown-up people are always weeping. Oh! I wish I could always remain\na child, and then I should never be miserable! Listen, my dear mamma,\u201d\nshe continued, again twining her arms around her mother\u2019s neck, \u201cwhy is\nit that you are always weeping and so sad? It must surely do you harm.\nEverybody is not like you, constantly sighing and in tears, I do assure\nyou. Only this morning, I was at St. James\u2019 Park with Alice, and there\nI met Lady Anne Boleyn; she was laughing gaily as she promenaded with a\nnumber of her friends. I ran immediately to her to say good morning, for\nI was really very glad to see her. How is it, mamma--I thought you told\nme she had gone to Kent to visit her father?\u201d\n\n\u201cMy child,\u201d replied the queen, her tears flowing afresh, \u201cwhat I told you\nwas true; but she has since returned without my being informed.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut, mamma, since this is your own house, why has she not yet presented\nherself? I am very sorry she has acted so, for I love her better than any\nof the other ladies. She told me all she saw in France when she travelled\nwith my aunt, the Duchess of Suffolk. Oh! how I would love to see France.\nLady Anne says it is a most beautiful country. She has described to me\nall the magnificent entertainments that King Louis XII. gave in honor of\nmy aunt. Mamma, when I marry, I want the King of France to be my husband.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd you--you also love Anne Boleyn?\u201d replied the queen.\n\n\u201cOh! yes, mamma, _very_ much, very much indeed!\u201d innocently answered the\nchild. \u201cI am very sorry she is no longer to be here, she is so amiable,\nand when she plays with me she always amuses me so much!\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, my dear child,\u201d replied the queen, \u201cI will tell you now why people\nweep when they are grown up, as you say: it is because they very often\nlove persons who no longer return their affection.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd do you believe she no longer loves me?\u201d replied the impulsive little\nMary with a thoughtful expression. \u201cAnd yet, mamma, I kissed her this\nmorning and embraced her with all my heart. However, I now remember that\nshe scarcely spoke a word to me; but I had not thought of it before. She\nseemed to be very much embarrassed. But why should she no longer love me\nwhen I still love her so dearly?\u201d\n\nAs Mary uttered these words, a woman entered the room and, whispering a\nmoment in the ear of the queen, placed a note in her hand.\n\nCatherine arose and approached the light; after reading the note, she\ncalled the young princess and requested her to retire to her chamber, as\nshe had something to write immediately that was very important.\n\nMary ran gaily to her mother, and, after kissing and embracing her fondly\nand tenderly again and again, she at last bade her good-night, and with a\nsmiling face bounded from the room in the same light and buoyant manner\nthat she had entered it.\n\n\u201cLeonora,\u201d said the queen, \u201cmy dear child, you have left for my sake our\nbeautiful Spain, and have ever served me with faithful devotion. Listen,\nnow, to the request I shall make--go bring me immediately the dress and\nouter apparel belonging to one of the servant women.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy so, my lady?\u201d\n\n\u201cAsk no questions--I have use for them; you will accompany me; I must go\nto London this night.\u201d\n\n\u201cGood heaven! my dear mistress, what are you saying?\u201d cried Leonora in\ngreat alarm. \u201cGo to London to-night? It is five miles; you will never be\nable to walk it, and you well know it would be impossible to attempt the\njourney in any other way--they would detect us.\u201d\n\n\u201cLeonora,\u201d answered the queen, \u201cI am resolved to go. Faithful friends\ninform me that the legate has arrived. Henry will now redouble his\nvigilance. I have but one day--if I lose this opportunity, I shall\nnever succeed. My last remaining hope rests upon this. If you refuse to\naccompany me, I shall go alone.\u201d\n\n\u201cAlone!--oh! my beloved mistress,\u201d cried Leonora, her hands clasped and\nher eyes streaming tears, \u201cyou can never do this! Think of what you are\ngoing to undertake! If you were recognized, the king would be at once\ninformed, and we would both be lost.\u201d\n\n\u201cEven so, Leonora; but what have I to lose? Is it possible for me to be\nmade more wretched? Shall I abandon this, my last hope? No, no, Leonora;\nI am accountable to my children for the honor of their birth. Go now, my\ngood girl! fly--there is not a moment to lose. Fear nothing; God will\nprotect us!\u201d\n\nLeonora, shrewd and adroit like the women of her country, was very soon\nin possession of the desired habiliments. Her actions might have excited\nsuspicion, perhaps; but entirely devoted to the queen as she was she felt\nno fear, and would, without hesitation, have exposed herself to even\ngreater danger, had it been necessary, in the execution of her mistress\u2019\nwishes.\n\nCatherine feigned to retire; and, after her attendants had been\ndismissed, she left the palace, closely enveloped in a long brown cloak,\nsuch as was habitually worn by the working-women of that period. The\nfaithful Leonora tremblingly followed the footsteps of her mistress. They\nbreathed more freely when they found themselves at last beyond the limits\nof the castle. Leonora, however, when they entered the road leading to\nLondon, anxiously reflected on the danger of meeting some one who would\nprobably recognize them. Her excited imagination even began to conjure up\nvague apprehensions of the dead, to blend with her fears of the living.\nShe also dreaded lest the strength of the queen should prove unequal\nto the journey--in fine, she feared everything. The sighing winds, the\nrustling leaves, the sound of her own footsteps as she walked over the\nstones, startled and filled her with apprehension. Very soon there was\nanother cause for alarm. The wind suddenly arose with violence; dark\nclouds overspread the heavens; the moon disappeared; large drops of\nrain began to fall, and soon poured in torrents, deluging the earth and\ndrenching their garments.\n\nIn vain they increased their speed; the storm raged with such fury they\nwere compelled to take refuge under a tree by the roadside.\n\n\u201cMy poor Leonora,\u201d said the queen, supporting herself against the trunk\nof the tree, whose wide-spread branches were being lashed and bent by the\nfury of the storm, \u201cI regret now having brought you with me. I am already\nsufficiently miserable without the additional pain of seeing my burdens\nlaid upon others.\u201d\n\n\u201cMy beloved lady and mistress,\u201d cried Leonora, \u201cI am not half so unhappy\nat this moment as I was when I feared my brothers would prevent me from\nfollowing you to England. It seems to me I can see the vessel now,\nwith its white sails unfurled, bearing you away, whilst I, standing on\nthe shore, with frantic cries, entreated them to let me rejoin you.\nThat night, I remember, being unable to sleep, I went down into the\norange-grove, the perfume of whose fruits and flowers embalmed the air\nof the palace gardens. Wiping away the sad tears, I fixed my eyes upon\nyour windows, which the light of our beautiful skies rendered distinctly\nvisible even at night. In Spain, at that hour, we can walk by the light\nof the stars; but in this land of mud and water, this horrid England,\none has to be wrapped to the ears in furs all the year round, or shiver\nwith cold from morning till night. This is doubtless the reason why\nthe English are so dull and so tiresome to others. In what a condition\nis this light mantle that covers our heads!\u201d said Leonora, shaking the\ncoarse woollen cloak dripping with water, that enveloped Catherine.\n\u201cThese Englishwomen,\u201d she resumed, \u201cknow no more about the sound of a\nguitar than they do about the rays of the sun; they are all just as\nmelancholy as moles. There is not one of them, except the Princess Mary,\nwho seems to have the slightest idea of our beautiful Spain.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh!\u201d sighed the queen, \u201cshe is just as I was at her age. God forbid that\nher future should resemble that of her mother!\u201d\n\nIn the meantime the storm had gradually abated; time pressed, and\nCatherine again resumed her journey with renewed courage and accelerated\nspeed. In spite of the mud, in which she sank at every step, she\nredoubled her efforts. For what cannot the strong human will accomplish,\nwhen opposed to feeble, physical strength alone, or even when the\nobstacles interposed proceed from the elements themselves? She at length\narrived at the gate of the palace of Lambeth, situated on the banks of\nthe Thames, where the cardinal Campeggio, according to the intelligence\nconveyed to her, would hold his court.\n\nThe courtyards, the doors, the ante-chambers, were thronged with servants\nand attendants, eager and active in the performance of their duties, for\nHenry had ordered that the cardinal should be entertained in a style\nof princely munificence, and entirely free from personal expense. All\nthese valets, being strangers to their new masters, and unaccustomed to\ntheir new employments, permitted the queen to pass without question or\ndetention, not, however, without a stare of stupid curiosity at her muddy\nboots and draggled garments.\n\nCatherine, being perfectly familiar with the interior of the palace, had\nno difficulty in finding the legate\u2019s cabinet.\n\nThe venerable prelate was slightly lame, and in a feeble and precarious\nstate of health. She found him seated before the fire in a large velvet\narm-chair, engaged in reading his Breviary. His face was pale and\nemaciated; a few thin locks of snow-white hair hung about his temples.\nHearing the door open, he rested the book on his knee, casting upon the\nqueen, as she entered, a keen, penetrating glance.\n\nWithout hesitation, Catherine advanced towards him. \u201cMy lord cardinal,\u201d\nshe exclaimed, removing the hood from her face, \u201cyou see before you the\nqueen of England, the legitimate spouse of Henry VIII.\u201d\n\nHearing these words, Campeggio was unable to suppress an exclamation of\nsurprise. He arose at once to his feet, and, perceiving the extraordinary\ncostume in which Catherine was arrayed, he cast upon her a look of\nincredulous astonishment. He was about to speak when she, with great\nvehemence, interrupted him.\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d she cried, raising her hands towards heaven, \u201cI call upon God to\nwitness the truth of what I say--I am Queen Catherine! You are astonished\nto see me here at this hour, and in this disguise. Know, then, that I am\na prisoner in my own palace; my cruel husband would have prevented me\nfrom coming to you. They tell me you are sent to sit in judgment on my\ncase. Surely, then, you should be made acquainted with my bitter woes and\ngrievances. Lend not your aid to the cause of injustice and wrong, but be\nthe strength of the weak, the defence of the innocent. A stranger in this\ncountry, I have no friends; fear of the king drives them all from me.\nI cannot doubt it--no, you will not refuse to hear my appeal. You will\ndefend the cause of an injured mother and her helpless children. What!\nwould you be willing to condemn me without first hearing my cause--I,\nthe daughter of kings? Have I been induced to marry Henry of Lancaster\nto enjoy the honors of royalty, when all such honors belong to me by my\nbirthright? Catherine of Aragon has never been unfaithful to her husband;\nbut to-day, misled by a criminal passion, he wishes to place upon the\nthrone of England a shameless woman, to deny his own blood, and brand his\nown children with the stigma of illegitimacy! Yes, I solemnly declare to\nyou that nothing can shake my resolution or divert me from my purpose!\nStrong in my innocence and in the justice of my cause, I will appeal to\nthe whole world--aye, even to God himself!\u201d\n\nThe cardinal stood motionless, regarding Catherine with reverence, as an\nexpression of haughty indignation lighted up her noble features. He was\nstruck with admiration at her courage and filled with compassion for her\nwoes.\n\n\u201cNo, madam,\u201d he replied, \u201cI am not to be your judge. I know that it is\nbut too true that you are surrounded by enemies. But let me assure you\nthat in me, at least, you will not find another. I shall esteem myself\nmost happy if, by my counsel or influence, I may be of service to your\ncause, and it is from the depths of my heart that I beg you to rely upon\nthis assurance.\u201d\n\nCatherine would have thanked him, but a noise was that moment heard of\nthe ushers throwing the doors violently open and announcing, in a loud\nvoice, \u201cHis Eminence Cardinal Wolsey!\u201d\n\n\u201cMerciful heaven!\u201d cried Catherine, \u201cmust this odious man pursue me for\never?\u201d She hurriedly lowered her veil, and took her place at the left of\nthe door, and the moment he entered passed out behind him. Wolsey glanced\nat her sharply, the appearance of a woman arousing instantly a suspicion\nin his mind, but, being compelled to respond with politeness to the\nlegate\u2019s salutations, he had no time to scrutinize, and Catherine escaped\nwithout being recognized.\n\nWolsey was passionately fond of pomp and pageant. The principal positions\nin his house were filled by barons and chevaliers. Among these attendants\nwere numbered the sons of some of the most distinguished families, who,\nunder his protection and by the aid of his all-powerful patronage and\ninfluence, aspired to civil or military preferment.\n\nOn this occasion, he considered it necessary to make an unusual display\nof luxurious magnificence. It was with great difficulty and trepidation\nthat the queen threaded her way through the crowd of prelates, noblemen,\nand young gentlemen who awaited in the ante-chambers the honor of being\npresented by the king\u2019s favorite to the cardinal-legate.\n\nThe courtyard was filled with their brilliant equipages, conspicuous\namong which were observed a great number of mules, richly caparisoned,\nand carrying on their backs immense chests, covered with crimson cloth,\ntrimmed with fringe and embroidered with gold.\n\nA crowd of idle valets were engaged in conversation at the foot of the\nstairs. The queen, in passing them, attracted their attention, exciting\ntheir ridicule and coarse gibes, and she heard them also indulge in the\nmost insolent conjectures regarding her.\n\n\u201cWho is that woman?\u201d said one. \u201cSee how dirty she is.\u201d \u201cShe looks like\na beggar, indeed,\u201d cried another, addressing himself to one of the\nnew-comers engaged to attend the legate. \u201cYour master receives strange\nvisitors; we, on the contrary, have nothing to do with people like that,\nexcept quickly to show them the door.\u201d\n\n\u201cHa! ha! you will have your hands full,\u201d exclaimed the most insolent\nof the crowd, \u201cif your master gives audience to such rabble as that.\u201d\nEmboldened by these remarks, one of the porters approached the queen,\nand, rudely pushing her, exclaimed with an oath: \u201cWell, beldame, what\nbrought you here? Take yourself off quickly. My lord is rich, but his\ncrowns were not made for such as you.\u201d These words excited the loudest\napplause from the whole crowd, who clapped their hands and cheered\nvociferously. Catherine trembled with mortification.\n\n\u201cIt is thus,\u201d she mentally exclaimed, \u201cthat the poor are received in\nthe palaces of the rich. And I myself have probably more than once,\nwithout knowing it, permitted them to sigh in vain at the gates of my own\npalace--mothers weeping for their children, or men, old and helpless,\nmaking a last appeal for assistance.\u201d\n\nThe queen, entirely absorbed in these reflections, together with the\nimpression made upon her by the appearance of the venerable legate, the\nsudden apparition of Wolsey, the snares that had been laid for her, and\nthe temptations with which they had surrounded her, mechanically followed\nLeonora, to whom the fear that her mistress might be pursued and arrested\nseemed to have given wings.\n\n\u201cLeonora,\u201d at length cried the queen, \u201cI feel that I can go no farther.\nStop, and let us rest for a moment; you walk too quickly.\u201d Exhausted with\nfatigue, she seated herself on a rock by the roadside.\n\nShe had scarcely rested a moment when a magnificent carriage passed.\nThe silken curtains were drawn back, and the flaming torches, carried\nby couriers, who surrounded the carriage, completely illuminated the\ninterior. Seated in this princely equipage was a young girl, brilliant\nin her youthful beauty and the splendor of her elegant dress and\njewelled adornings. At a glance, Catherine recognized Anne Boleyn, who\nwas returning from a grand entertainment given her by the Lord Mayor of\nLondon.\n\nShe passed like the light; the carriage rapidly whirling through the mud\nand water, that flew from the wheels and covered anew the already soiled\ngarments of the hapless queen.\n\nCatherine, completely overcome by painful emotions, felt as though she\nwere dying.\n\n\u201cLeonora, listen!\u201d she said in a faint voice, scarcely audible--\u201cLeonora,\ncome near me--give me your hand; I feel that I am dying! You will carry\nto my daughter my last benediction!\u201d\n\nShe sought in the darkness the hand of Leonora; the film of death\nseemed gathering over her eyes; she did not speak, her head sank on her\nshoulder, and poor Leonora thought the queen had ceased to breathe. She\nat first held her in her arms; but at length, overcome by fatigue, she\nsank upon the earth as she vainly endeavored to revive her by breathing\ninto her mouth her own life-breath. But seeing all her efforts to restore\nanimation useless, she came to the terrible conclusion that Catherine was\nindeed dead.\n\n\u201cMy dear mistress,\u201d she cried wildly, wringing her hands, \u201cmy good\nmistress is dead! What will become of me? It is my fault: I should\nhave prevented her from going. Ah! how miserable I am!\u201d And her tears\nand cries redoubled. At length she heard in the distance the sound of\napproaching footsteps, and was soon able to distinguish a litter, borne\nby a number of men. \u201cHelp!\u201d she cried, her hopes reviving at the sight,\nand very soon they were near her--\u201chelp! come to my assistance; my\nmistress is dying!\u201d Seeing two women, one lying on the ground supported\nin the arms of another, who appeared half-deranged, the person who\noccupied the litter commanded the men to stop immediately, and he quickly\nalighted. It was the king! He also was going to London to see the\nlegate; to prevent his anxious haste from being known, and commented on,\nhe had adopted this secret conveyance. When she saw him, Leonora was\nparalyzed with apprehension and alarm. The king instantly recognized\nthe queen and the unhappy Leonora. In a furious voice, he demanded what\nshe was doing there and where she had been. But in vain she endeavored\nto reply--her tongue clove to the roof of her mouth--she was unable to\narticulate a word. Transported with rage at her silence, and by what\nhe suspected, he immediately had the queen placed in the litter, and\nordering the men to walk slowly, he followed them on foot to the palace.\n\nCatherine was carried to her own apartment, and soon restored to\nconsciousness; but on opening her eyes she looked around, vainly hoping\nto behold her faithful Leonora. She never saw her again! She had been\ntaken away, and the punishment that was meted out to her, or the fate\nthat befel the unfortunate girl, was for ever involved in mystery.\n\nWhile discord filled the royal palace with perplexity and sorrow a\nstatesman, simple and peaceful, awaited, with happiness mingled with\nimpatience, the arrival of a friend. In his house, all around him seemed\npossessed of redoubled activity. The family table was more elegantly\nspread, fresh flowers decorated all the apartments, the children ran to\nand fro in the very excess of their joy and delight, until at length,\nin every direction, the glad announcement was heard, \u201cHe has come! he\nhas come!\u201d The entire family eagerly descended to the court-yard to meet\nand welcome the visitor, and Sir Thomas, with feelings of inexpressible\njoy, folded in his embrace the Bishop of Rochester, the wise and virtuous\nFisher, whom he loved with the purest and tenderest sentiments of\nfriendship.\n\n\u201cAt last you are here,\u201d he exclaimed; \u201chow happy I am to see you once\nmore!\u201d\n\nWhile the good bishop was ascending the stairs, surrounded by a troop\nof Sir Thomas\u2019 youngest children, Margaret, the eldest daughter, came\nforward and saluted him, accompanied by Lady More, her step-mother,\nand young William Roper, her affianced husband. They all entered the\ndrawing-room together, and, after engaging a short time in general\nconversation, Sir Thomas bade the children retire, that he might converse\nwith more freedom.\n\n\u201cMy dear friend,\u201d he exclaimed, taking the bishop\u2019s hand again in his\nown, \u201cI cannot express the joy I feel at your return. I have been so long\ndeprived of your presence, and I have so many things to say to you. But\nmy heart is too full at this moment to permit me to express all I feel or\nwould say! But why have you not answered my letters?\u201d\n\n\u201cYour letters!\u201d replied the bishop. \u201cWhy, it has been more than a month\nsince I received one from you.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow can that be possible unless they have been intercepted?\u201d replied\nMore. \u201cThe king every day becomes more and more suspicious. If this\ncontinues, it will soon be considered high treason for a man to think.\u201d\n\n\u201cI cannot tell what has become of your letters. I only know I have\nnot received them, and it has caused me a great deal of anxiety and\napprehension. But my friend, since I find you full of life and health,\nI am quite satisfied and happy. Now, let me hear all that has happened\nat court; but let me begin by first telling you that the king has sent\nme, through Cardinal Wolsey, a document he has written on the subject\nof divorce, asking my opinion and advice. I have answered him with all\nfrankness and candor, expressing myself strongly against his views.\nCertainly, there is nothing more absurd than the idea of the king\u2019s\nwishing to repudiate, after so many years of marriage, a princess so\nvirtuous and irreproachable, to whom he can find no other objection\nthan that she was betrothed to his brother, Prince Arthur. Besides, a\ndispensation was obtained on that account at the time of his marriage,\ntherefore it would seem his conscience ought to be perfectly satisfied.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, yes, his conscience should be entirely at rest,\u201d replied Sir\nThomas. \u201cAnd if he sincerely believes the marriage has been void\nuntil this time, why does he not make the effort to have it rendered\nlegitimate, instead of endeavoring to annul it entirely? It is because he\nwishes to marry one of the queen\u2019s ladies--the young Anne Boleyn!\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! horrible,\u201d cried Fisher. \u201cAre you sure, my friend, of what you say?\nGracious heaven! If I had only suspected it! But I assure you I have\nhad entire confidence in him. I have, therefore, examined the subject\nconscientiously and with the greatest possible diligence before giving\nhim my reply. Had I suspected any such scheme as this, I should never\nhave had the patience to consider the arguments he has presented with so\nmuch duplicity.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, my dear Fisher,\u201d replied Sir Thomas, \u201csuch is the sad truth, and\nsuch are the \u2018scruples\u2019 that disturb the tender conscience of the king.\nTo repudiate the queen and the Princess Mary, his daughter, is his sole\naim, his only desire. I also have received an order to read and give my\nopinion on the divorce question; but I have asked to be excused, on the\nground of my very limited knowledge of theological matters. Moreover, all\nthese debates and hypocritical petitions for advice are entirely absurd\nand unnecessary. Cardinal Campeggio, the Pope\u2019s legate, has already\narrived from Rome, and the queen will appear before a court composed of\nthe legate and Wolsey, together with several other cardinals.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe queen brought to trial!\u201d cried the Bishop of Rochester. \u201cThe queen\narraigned to hear her honor and her rank disputed? What a shame upon\nEngland! Who will speak for her? I would give my life to be called to\ndefend her! But how is it that Wolsey--the all-powerful Wolsey--has not\ndiverted the king from his unworthy purpose?\u201d\n\n\u201cHe is said to have tried; but he stands in awe of the king. You know an\nambitious man never opposes him to whom he owes his power. Nevertheless,\u201d\nadded More, \u201cI cannot believe he will dare to pronounce the Princess Mary\nillegitimate. For, all laws aside, supposing even that the marriage were\nannulled, the good faith in which it was contracted invests her birth\nwith an inalienable right.\u201d\n\n\u201cI hope it may be so,\u201d said Fisher; \u201cbut what immense calamities this\nquestion will bring on our unhappy country!\u201d\n\n\u201cI fear so, my friend,\u201d replied More. \u201cAt present, the people are pledged\nto the queen\u2019s cause; it could not be otherwise, she is so much beloved\nand esteemed; and they declare, if the king does succeed in repudiating\nCatherine, that he will find it impossible to deprive his daughter of her\nright to reign over them.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd Wolsey,\u201d replied the bishop thoughtfully, \u201cwill be called to\nsit in judgment on his sovereign! He will be against her! And this\nCampeggio--what says he in the matter?\u201d\n\n\u201cWe believe,\u201d replied More, \u201cthat he will sustain the queen; he seems to\npossess great firmness and integrity of character. His first interview\nwith the king gave us great hopes. Henry has overwhelmed him with\nprotestations of his entire submission, but all his artifices have been\nfrustrated by the discernment and prudence of the Italian cardinal. His\nimpenetrable silence on the subject of his own personal opinions has\nplunged the king into despair. Since that day he has honored him with\nincessant visits, has offered him the rich bishopric of Durham, and\nworked unceasingly to corrupt his integrity by promises and flattery.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow keenly the queen must suffer,\u201d said Fisher--\u201cshe that I saw, at\nthe time of her arrival in the kingdom, so young, so beautiful, and so\nidolized by Henry!\u201d\n\n\u201cAlas! I think so,\u201d said More. \u201cFor some time I have found it impossible\nto approach her. However, she appears in public as usual, always gracious\nand affable; there is no change in her appearance. The queen is truly\na most admirable woman. During your absence, an epidemic made its\nappearance called the \u2018sweating sickness,\u2019 which made terrible ravages.\nWolsey fled from his palace, several noblemen belonging to his household\nhaving died very suddenly of the disease. The king was greatly alarmed;\nhe never left the queen for a moment, and united with her in constant\nprayers to God, firmly believing that her petitions would avail to stay\nthe pestilence. He immediately despatched Anne Boleyn to her father,\nwhere she was attacked by the disease, and truly we would have felt\nno regret at her loss if the Lord in taking her had only deigned to\nshow mercy to her soul. At one time we believed the king had entirely\nreformed, but, alas! the danger had scarcely passed when he recalled Anne\nBoleyn, and is again estranged from the queen.\u201d\n\n\u201cDeath gives us terrible lessons,\u201d replied the Bishop of Rochester. \u201cIn\nhis presence we judge of all things wisely. The illusions of time are\ndissipated, to give place to the realities of eternity!\u201d As the bishop\nsaid these words, several persons who had called to see Sir Thomas\nentered the room. Conspicuous among them was Cromwell, the prot\u00e9g\u00e9 of\nWolsey. This man was both false and sinister, who made use of any means\nthat led to the acquisition of fortune. He possessed the arts of intrigue\nand flattery. To a profound dissimulation he added an air of politeness\nand a knowledge of the world that, in general, caused him to be well\nreceived in society. A close scrutiny of his character, however, made\nit evident that there was something in the depths of this man\u2019s soul\nrendering him unworthy of any confidence. To him, vice and virtue were\nwords devoid of any meaning. When he found a man was no longer necessary\nto his designs, or that he could not in some manner use him, he made no\nfurther effort to conciliate or retain his friendship. He saluted Sir\nThomas and the Bishop of Rochester with a quiet ease, and seated himself\nbeside young Cranmer--\u201cwith whom I am very well acquainted,\u201d he remarked.\nFor Cromwell, like all other intriguers, assumed intimacy with all the\nworld.\n\nScarcely had he uttered the words when a Mr. Williamson was ushered in,\nwho had returned to London a few days before, after a long absence on the\nContinent.\n\n\u201cAnd so you are back, Mr. Williamson,\u201d cried More, taking his hand. \u201cYou\nare just from Germany, I believe? Well, do tell us how matters stand in\nthat country. It seems, from what we hear, everything is in commotion\nthere.\u201d\n\n\u201cYour supposition is quite correct, sir,\u201d replied Williamson in a\nhalf-serious, half-jesting manner. \u201cThe emperor is furious against our\nking, and has sent ambassadors to Rome to oppose the divorce. But the\nempire is greatly disturbed by religious dissensions, therefore I doubt\nif he will be able to give the subject as much attention as he desires.\nNew reformers are every day springing up. The foremost now is Bacer,\na Dominican monk; then comes Zwingle, the curate of Z\u00fcrich--where he\nendeavored to abolish the Mass, to the great scandal of the people--and\nthere is still another, named \u0152colampadius, who has joined Zwingle. But\nstrangest of all is that these reformers, among themselves, agree in\nnothing. The one admits a dogma, the other rejects it; to-day they think\nthis, to-morrow that. Every day some new doctrine is promulgated. Luther\nhas a horror of Zwingle, and they mutually damn each other. The devil is\nno longer able to recognize himself. They occasionally try to patch up a\nreconciliation, and agree altogether to believe a certain doctrine, but\nthe compact is scarcely drawn up before the whole affair is upset again.\u201d\n\nCranmer, while listening to this discourse, moved uneasily in his chair,\nuntil at length, unable to restrain himself longer, he interrupted\nWilliamson in a sharp, cutting manner that he endeavored to soften.\n\n\u201cIn truth, sir, you speak very slightingly of these learned and\ndistinguished men. And only, it seems, because they demand a reform in\nthe morals of the clergy, and preach against and denounce the abuses of\nthe church in the matter of indulgences.\u201d\n\n\u201cBeautiful reformers!\u201d cried Williamson. \u201cThey protest to-day against an\nabuse which they alone have felt as such, and that but for a very short\ntime. And permit me to insist on your observing a fact, which it is by no\nmeans necessary or expedient to forget, that this quarrel originated in\nthe displeasure felt by Luther because it was not to his own order, but\nto that of the Dominicans, to whom the distribution of indulgences was\nentrusted.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat may be possible, sir,\u201d interrupted Cranmer, \u201cbut at least you will\nnot deny that the immorality of the German clergy imperatively demanded a\nthorough reformation.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is quite possible, my dear sir, that I may not be ready at once to\nagree with you in your opinions. But if the German church has become\nrelaxed in morals, it is the fault of those only who before their\nelevation to the holy office had not, as they were bound to have, the\ntrue spirit of their vocation. But I pray you, on this point of morals,\nit will not do to boast of the severity of these new apostles. The\ndisciples of Christ left their wives, when called to \u2018go into all the\nworld and preach the Gospel,\u2019 but these men begin by taking wives. Luther\nhas married a young and beautiful nun, an act that has almost driven his\nfollowers to despair, and scandalized and excited the ridicule of the\nwhole city. As to Bucer, he is already married to his second wife!\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat!\u201d cried the bishop, \u201cthese men marry! Marry--in the face of the\nholy church! Do they forget the solemn vows of chastity they have\nmade?--for they are all either priests or monks.\u201d\n\n\u201cTheir vows! Oh! they _retract_ their vows, they say. These \u2018vows\u2019 are\nwhat they call _abuses_; and the priests of this so severely reformed\nchurch will hereafter enjoy the inestimable privilege of marrying.\u201d\n\nWhilst this conversation had been going on, Sir Thomas kept his eyes\nclosely fixed on Cranmer, trying to discover, from the expression of his\npale, meagre face, the impression made on him by the conversation. He\nwas well convinced that latterly Cranmer, although he had already taken\norders, maintained the new doctrines with all the influence he possessed.\nAnd the reason why he had so thoroughly espoused them was because of a\nviolent passion conceived for the daughter of Osiander, one of the chief\nreformers.\n\nBorn of a poor and obscure family, he had embraced the ecclesiastical\nstate entirely from motives of interest and ambition, and without the\nslightest vocation, his sole aim being to advance his own interests\nand fortunes by every possible means, and he had already succeeded in\ningratiating himself with the Earl of Wiltshire, who, together with all\nthe family of Anne Boleyn, were his devoted patrons and friends. It was\nby these means that he was afterwards elevated to the archiepiscopal see\nof Canterbury, where we will find him servilely devoting himself to the\ninterests of Henry VIII., and at last dying the death of a traitor.\n\nInfluenced by such motives, Cranmer warmly defended the new doctrines,\nbringing forward every available argument, and ended by declaring he\nthought it infinitely better that the priests should be allowed to marry\nthan be exposed to commit sin.\n\n\u201cNothing obliges them to commit sin,\u201d cried the Bishop of Rochester, who\nwas no longer able to maintain silence. \u201cOn the contrary, sir, every\nlaw and regulation of the discipline and canons of the church tends to\ninspire and promote the most immaculate purity of morals. These rules\nmay seem hard to those who have embraced the ecclesiastical state from\nmotives of pride and an ambitious self-interest, and without having\nreceived from God the graces necessary for the performance of the duties\nof so exalted and holy a ministry. This is why we so often have to grieve\nover the misconduct of so many of the clergy. But if they complain of\ntheir condition now, what will it be when they have wives and families\nto increase their cares and add to their responsibilities? The priest!\u201d\ncontinued the bishop, seeming to penetrate the very depths of Cranmer\u2019s\nnarrow, contracted soul, \u201chave you ever reflected upon the sublimity of\nhis vocation? The priest is the father of the orphan, the brother of the\npoor, the consoler of the dying, the spiritual support of the criminal\non the scaffold, the merciful judge of the assassin in his dungeon. Say,\ndo you not think the entire human race a family sufficiently large, its\nduties sufficiently extended, its responsibilities, wants, and cares\nsufficiently arduous and pressing? How could a priest do more, when his\nduty now requires him to devote, and give himself entirely to, each and\nevery one of the human family? No; a priest is a man who has made a\nsolemn vow to become an angel. If he does not intend to fulfil that vow,\nthen let him never pronounce it!\u201d\n\n\u201cO Rochester!\u201d cried Sir Thomas More, greatly moved, \u201chow I delight to\nhear you express yourself in this manner!\u201d\n\nAnd Sir Thomas spoke with all sincerity, for the bishop, without being\nconscious of it, had faithfully described his own life and character,\nand those who knew and loved him found no difficulty in recognizing the\nportrait.\n\nAs Sir Thomas spoke, the door again opened, and all arose respectfully\non seeing the Duke of Norfolk appear--that valiant captain, to whom\nEngland was indebted for her victory gained on the field of Flodden.\nHe was accompanied by the youngest and best-beloved of his sons, the\nyoung Henry, Earl of Surrey. Even at his very tender age, the artless\nsimplicity and graceful manners of this beautiful child commanded the\nadmiration of all, while his brilliant intellect and lively imagination\nannounced him as the future favorite and cherished poet of the age.\n\nAlas! how rapidly fled those golden years of peace and happiness. Later,\nand Norfolk, this proud father, so happy in being the parent of such a\nson, lived to behold the head of that noble boy fall upon the scaffold!\nThe crime of which Henry VIII. will accuse him will be that of having\nunited his arms with those of Edward the Confessor, whose royal blood\nmingled with that which flowed in his own veins.\n\nSir Thomas approached the duke and saluted him with great deference. The\nBishop of Rochester insisted on resigning him his chair, but the duke\ndeclined, and seated himself in the midst of the company.\n\n\u201cI was not aware,\u201d said he, turning graciously towards the bishop, \u201cthat\nSir Thomas was enjoying such good company. I congratulate myself on the\nreturn of my Lord of Rochester. He will listen, I am sure, with lively\ninterest to the recital I have come to make; for I must inform you,\ngentlemen, I am just from Blackfriars, where the king summoned me this\nmorning in great haste, to assist, with some of the highest dignitaries\nof the kingdom, at the examination of the queen before the assembly of\ncardinals.\u201d\n\nHe had scarcely uttered these words when an expression of profound\namazement overspread the features of all present. More was by no means\nthe least affected.\n\n\u201cThe queen!\u201d he cried. \u201cHas she then appeared in person? And so\nunexpectedly and rudely summoned! They have done this in order that she\nmight not be prepared with her defence!\u201d\n\n\u201cI know not,\u201d replied the duke; \u201cbut I shall never be able to forget\nthe sad and imposing scene. When we entered, the cardinals and the two\nlegates were seated on a platform covered with purple cloth; the king\nseated at their right. We were arranged behind his chair in perfect\nsilence. Very soon the queen entered, dressed in the deepest mourning.\nShe took her seat on the left of the platform, facing the king. When the\nking\u2019s name was called he arose, and remained standing and in silence.\nBut when the queen was in her turn summoned, she arose, and replied,\nwith great dignity, that she boldly protested against her judges for\nthree important reasons: first, because she was a stranger; secondly,\nbecause they were all in possession of royal benefices, which had been\nbestowed on them by her adversary; and, thirdly, that she had grave and\nall-important reasons for believing that she would not obtain justice\nfrom a tribunal so constituted. She added that she had already appealed\nto the Pope, and would not submit to the judgment of this court. Having\nsaid these words, she stood in silence, but when she heard them declare\nher appeal should not be submitted to the Pope, she passed before the\ncardinals, and, walking proudly across the entire hall, she threw herself\nat the feet of the king.\n\n\u201cIt would be impossible,\u201d continued Norfolk, \u201cto describe the emotion\nexcited by this movement.\n\n\u201c\u2018Sire,\u2019 she cried, with a respectful but firm and decided tone, \u2018I beg\nyou to regard me with compassion. Pity me as a woman, as a stranger\nwithout friends on whom I can rely, without a single disinterested\nadviser to whom I can turn for counsel! I call upon God to witness,\u2019\nshe continued, raising her expressive eyes towards heaven, \u2018that I have\nalways been to you a loyal, faithful wife, and have made it my constant\nduty to conform in all things to your will; that I have loved those whom\nyou have loved, whether I knew them to be my enemies or my friends. For\nmany years I have been your wife; I am the mother of your children. God\nknows, when I married you, I was an unsullied virgin, and since that time\nI have never brought reproach on the sanctity of my marriage vows. Your\nown conscience bears witness to the truth of what I say. If you can find\na single fault with which to reproach me, then will I pledge you my word\nto bow my head in shame, and at once leave your presence; but, if not, I\npray you in God\u2019s holy name to render me justice.\u2019\n\n\u201cWhile she was speaking, a low murmur of approbation was heard throughout\nthe assembly, followed by a long, unbroken silence. The king grew deadly\npale, but made no reply to the queen, who arose, and was leaving the\nhall, when Henry made a signal to the Duke of Suffolk to detain her. He\nfollowed her, and made every effort to induce her to return, but in vain.\nTurning haughtily round, she said, in a tone sufficiently distinct to be\nheard by the entire assembly:\n\n\u201c\u2018Go, tell the king, your master, that until this hour I have never\ndisobeyed him, and that I regret being compelled to do so now.\u2019\n\n\u201cSaying these words, she immediately turned and left the hall, followed\nby her ladies in waiting.\n\n\u201cHer refusal to remain longer in the presence of her judges, and the\ntouching, unstudied eloquence of the appeal she had made, cast the\ntribunal into a state of great embarrassment, and the honorable judges\nseemed to wish most heartily they had some one else to decide for them;\nwhen suddenly the king arose, and, turning haughtily towards them, spoke:\n\n\u201c\u2018Sirs,\u2019 he said, \u2018most cheerfully and with perfect confidence do\nI present my testimony, bearing witness to the spotless virtue and\nunsullied integrity of the queen. Her character, her conduct, in every\nparticular, has been above reproach. But it is impossible for me to\nlive in the state of constant anxiety this union causes me to suffer.\nMy conscience keeps me in continual dread because of having married\nthis woman, who was the betrothed wife of my own brother. I will use no\ndissimulation, my lords; I know very well that many of you believe I\nhave been persuaded by the Cardinal of York to make this appeal for a\ndivorce. But I declare in your presence this day, this is an entirely\nfalse impression, and that, on the contrary, the cardinal has earnestly\ncontended against the scruples which have disturbed my soul. But, I\ndeclare, against my own will, and in spite of all my regrets, his\nopinions have not been able to restore to me the tranquillity of a heart\nwithout reproach. I have, in consequence, found it necessary to confer\nagain with the Bishop of Tarbes, who has, unhappily, only confirmed the\nfears I already entertain. I have consulted my confessor and many other\nprelates, who have all advised me to submit this question to the tribunal\nof our Holy Father, the Sovereign Pontiff. To this end, my lords, you\nhave been invested by him with his own supreme authority and spiritual\npower. I will listen to you as I would listen to him--that is to say,\nwith the most entire submission. I wish, however, to remind you again\nthat my duty towards my subjects requires me to prevent whatever might\nhave the effect in the future of disturbing their tranquillity; and,\nunfortunately, I have but too strong reasons for fearing that, at some\nfuture day, the legitimacy of the right of the Princess Mary to the\nthrone may be disputed. It is with entire confidence that I await your\nsolution of a question so important to the happiness of my subjects and\nthe peace of my kingdom. I have no doubt that you will be able to remove\nall the obstacles placed in my way.\u2019\n\n\u201cSaying these words, the king retired, and started instantly for his\npalace at Greenwich. The noblemen generally followed him, but I remained\nto witness the end of what proved to be a tumultuous and stormy debate.\nNevertheless, after a long discussion, they decided to go on with the\ninvestigation, to hear the advocates of the queen, and continue the\nproceedings in spite of her protest.\u201d\n\n\u201cWho is the queen\u2019s advocate?\u201d demanded the Bishop of Rochester.\n\n\u201cHe has not yet been appointed,\u201d replied Norfolk. \u201cIt seems to me it\nwould only be just to let the queen select her own counsel.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut she will refuse, without a doubt,\u201d replied Cromwell, \u201cafter the\nmanner she has adopted to defend herself.\u201d\n\nThey continued to converse for a long time on this subject, which filled\nwith anxious apprehension the heart of Sir Thomas, as well as that of his\nfaithful friend, the good Bishop of Rochester.\n\nTO BE CONTINUED.\n\n\nTHE BIRTH-PLACE OF S. VINCENT DE PAUL\n\n                            \u201cI love all waste\n    And solitary places where we taste\n    The pleasure of believing what we see\n    Is boundless as we wish our souls to be:\n    And such was this wide ocean and the shore\n    More barren than its billows.\u201d\n\n                                  --_Shelley._\n\nThe Landes--that long, desolate tract on the western coast of France\nbetween the Gironde and the Adour, with its vast forests of melancholy\npines, its lone moors and solitary deserts, its broad marshes, and its\ndunes of sand that creep relentlessly on as if they had life--appeal\nwonderfully to the imagination, that _folle du logis_, as Montaigne calls\nit, but which, in spite of him, we love to feed. One may travel for hours\nthrough these vast steppes covered with heather without discovering the\nsmoke of a single chimney, or anything to relieve the monotonous horizon,\nunless a long line of low sand-hills that look like billows swayed to\nand fro in the wind; or some low tree standing out against the cloudless\nheavens, perhaps half buried in the treacherous sands; or a gaunt\npeasant, the very silhouette of a man, on his stilts, \u201cfive feet above\ncontradiction,\u201d like Voltaire\u2019s preacher, perhaps with his knitting-work\nin his hands, or a distaff under his arm, as if fresh from the feet of\nOmphale, driving his flock before him--all birds of one feather, or\nsheep of one wool; for he is clad in a shaggy sheepskin coat, and looks\nas if he needed shearing as much as any of them. Or perhaps this Knight\nof the Sable Fleece--for the sheep of the Landes are mostly black--is\non one of the small, light horses peculiar to the region, said to have\nan infusion of Arabian blood--thanks to the Saracen invaders--which are\nwell adapted to picking their way over quaking bogs and moving sands, but\nunfortunately are fast degenerating from lack of care in maintaining the\npurity of the breed.\n\nDuring the winter season these extensive heaths are converted by the\nprolonged rains into immense marshes, as the impermeable _alios_ within\nsix inches of the surface prevents the absorption of moisture. The\npeasant is then obliged to shut himself up with his beasts in his low,\ndamp cottage, with peat for his fuel, a pine torch for his candle,\nbrackish water relieved by a dash of vinegar for drink, meagre broth,\ncorn bread, and perhaps salt fish for his dinner. Whole generations are\nsaid to live under one roof in the Landes, so thoroughly are the people\nimbued with the patriarchal spirit. Woman has her rights here--at least\nin the house. The old _dauna_ (from _domina_, perhaps) rules the little\nkingdom with a high hand, including her sons and her sons\u2019 wives down to\nthe remotest generation, with undisputed sway. It is the very paradise\nof mothers-in-law. The _paterfamilias_ seldom interferes if his soup is\nready at due time and she makes both ends meet at the end of the year,\nwith a trifle over for a barrel of _pique-pout_ to be indulged in on\nextraordinary occasions. From La Teste to the valley of the Gave this\nold house-mother is queen of the hive, active, thrifty, keen of eye, and\nsharp of tongue. The slightest murmur is frozen into silence beneath the\narctic ray of her Poyser-like glance. She is a hawk by day and an owl by\nnight. She directs the spinning and weaving of the wool and flax, orders\nthe meals, and superintends the wardrobe of the whole colony. The land\nis so poor that it is seldom divided among the children. The oldest heir\nbecomes head of the family, and they all fare better by sharing in the\ngeneral income. In unity there is safety--and economy.\n\nAt every door is the clumsy machine for breaking the flax that is spun\nduring the long winter evenings for the sail-makers of Bayonne or the\nweavers of B\u00e9arn, whose linen, if not equal to that of Flanders, is\nas good as that of Normandy. Before every house is also the huge oven\nwhere the bread is baked for general consumption. Flocks of geese paddle\nfrom pool to pool in the marshes, and wild ducks breed undisturbed in\nthe fens. In the villages on the borders of the Landes you hear in the\nmorning a sharp whistle that might serve for a locomotive. It is the\nswineherd summoning his charge, which issue in a gallop, two or three\nfrom each house, to seek their food in the moors. They all come back in\nthe evening, and go to their own pens to get the bucket of bran that\nawaits them. Feeding thus in the wild, their meat acquires a peculiar\nflavor. Most of these animals go into the market. The hams of Bayonne\nhave always been famous. We might say they are historic, for Strabo\nspeaks of them.\n\nWhen the rainy season is at an end, these bogs and stagnant pools give\nout a deadly miasma in the burning sun, engendering fevers, dysentery,\nand the fatal pellagra. The system is rapidly undermined, and the peasant\nseldom attains to an advanced age. He marries at twenty and is old at\nforty.\n\nA kind of awe comes over the soul in traversing this region, and yet\nit has a certain mysterious attraction which draws us on and on, as\nif nature had some marvellous secret in store for us. The atmosphere\nis charged with a thin vapor that quivers in the blazing sun. Strange\ninsects are in the air. A sense of the infinite, such as we feel in the\nmidst of the ocean, comes over us. We grow breathless as the air--grow\nsilent as the light that gilds the vast landscape before us. One of the\ngreatest of the sons of the Landes--the P\u00e8re de Ravignan--says: \u201cSolitude\nis the _patrie des forts_: silence is their prayer.\u201d One feels how true\nit is in these boundless moors. It is the only prayer fit for this realm\nof silence, where one is brought closer and closer to the heart of\nnature, and restored, as it were, at least in a degree, to the primeval\nrelation of man with his Creator.\n\nCarlyle says the finest nations in the world, the English and the\nAmerican, are all going away into wind and tongue. We recommend a season\nin the Landes, where one becomes speedily impressed that \u201csilence is the\neternal duty of man.\u201d\n\nWe wonder such a region should be inhabited. The _daunas_, we hope, never\nhave courage enough to raise their still voices in the open air. We fancy\nwooing carried on in true Shaksperian style:\n\n    \u201cO Imogen! I\u2019ll speak to thee in silence.\u201d\n\n    --\u201cWhat should Cordelia do? Love and be silent.\u201d\n\nHowever this may be, the Landes are peopled, though thinly. Here and\nthere at immense distances we come to a cottage. The men are shepherds,\nfishermen, or _r\u00e9siniers_, as the turpentine-producers are called.\nPliny, Dioscorides, and other ancient writers speak of the inhabitants\nas collecting the yellow amber thrown up by the sea, and trafficking in\nbeeswax, resin, and pitch. The Ph\u0153nicians and Carthaginians initiated\nthem into the mysteries of mining and forging. The Moors taught them the\nvalue of their cork-trees. They still keep bees that feed on the purple\nbells of the heather, and sell vast quantities of wax for the candles\nused in the churches of France--_cierges_, as they are called, from _cire\nvierge_--virgin wax, wrought by chaste bees, and alone fit for the sacred\naltars of Jesus and Mary.\n\nAusonius thus speaks of the pursuits of the people:\n\n    \u201cMercatus ne agitas leviore numismate captans,\n    Insanis quod mox pretiis gravis auctio vendat,\n    Albentisque sevi globulos et pinguia cer\u00e6\n    Pondera, Naryciamque picem, scissamque papyrum\n    Fumantesque olidum paganica lumina t\u0153das.\u201d\n\nThey are devoting more and more attention to the production of turpentine\nby planting the maritime pine which grew here in the days of Strabo,\nand thereby reclaiming the vast tracts of sand thrown up by the sea.\nA priest, the Abb\u00e9 Desbiez, and his brother are said to have first\nconceived the idea of reclaiming their native deserts and staying the\nprogress of the quicksands which had buried so many places, and were\nmoving unceasingly on at the rate of about twenty-five yards a year,\nthreatening the destruction of many more. That was about a hundred\nyears ago. A few years after M. Br\u00e9montier, a French engineer, tested\nthe plan by planting, as far as his means allowed, the maritime pine,\nthe strong, fibrous roots of which take tenacious hold of the slightest\ncrevice in the rock, and absorb the least nutriment in the soil. But this\nexperiment was slow to lead to any important result, as the _pinada_, or\npine plantations, involve an outlay that makes no return for years. It\nwas not till Louis Philippe\u2019s time that the work was carried on with any\ngreat activity. Napoleon III. also greatly extended the plantations--the\nimportance of which became generally acknowledged--not only to arrest the\nprogress of the sands, but to meet the want of turpentine in the market,\nso long dependent on imports.\n\nIn ten years the trees begin to yield an income. Each acre then furnishes\ntwelve or fifteen thousand poles for vineyards or the coalman. The\nprudent owner does not tap his trees till they are twenty-five years old.\nBy that time they are four feet in circumference and yield turpentine\nto the value of fifty or sixty francs a year. Then the _r\u00e9sinier_ comes\nwith his hatchet and makes an incision low down in the trunk, from which\nthe resin flows into an earthern jar or a hollow in the ground. These\njars are emptied at due intervals, and the incision from time to time\nis widened. Later, others are made parallel to it. These are finally\nextended around the tree. With prudence this treatment may be continued\na century; for this species of pine is very hardy if not exhausted. When\nthe poor tree is near its end, it is hacked without any mercy and bled to\ndeath. Then it is only fit for the sawmill, wood-pile, or coal-pit.\n\nPoor and desolate as the Landes are, they have had their share of great\nmen. \u201cEvery path on the globe may lead to the door of a hero,\u201d says some\none. We have spoken of La Teste. This was the stronghold of the stout old\nCaptals de Buch,[4] belonging to the De Graillys, one of the historic\nfamilies of the country. No truer specimen of the lords of the Landes\ncould be found than these old captals, who, poor, proud, and adventurous,\nentered the service of the English, to whom they remained faithful as\nlong as that nation had a foothold in the land. Their name and deeds are\nfamiliar to every reader of Froissart. The nearness of Bordeaux, and the\nnumerous privileges and exemptions granted the foresters and herdsmen of\nthe Landes, explain the strong attachment of the people to the English\ncrown. The De Graillys endeavored by alliances to aggrandize their\nfamily, and finally became loyal subjects of France under Louis XI. They\nintermarried with the Counts of Foix and B\u00e9arn, and their vast landed\npossessions were at length united with those of the house of Albret.\nWhere would the latter have been without them? And without the Albrets,\nwhere the Bourbons?\n\nAnd this reminds us of the Sires of Albret, another and still more\nrenowned family of the Landes.\n\nNear the source of the Midou, among the pine forests of Maremsin, you\ncome to a village of a thousand people called Labrit, the ancient\nLeporetum, or country of hares, whence Lebret, Labrit, and Albret. Here\nrose the house of Albret from obscurity to reign at last over Navarre and\nunite the most of ancient Aquitaine to the crown of France. The history\nof these lords of the heather is a marvel of wit and good-luck. Great\nhunters of hares and seekers of heiresses, they were always on the scent\nfor advantageous alliances, not too particular about the age or face of\nthe lady, provided they won broad lands or a fat barony. Once in their\nclutches, they seldom let go. They never allowed a daughter to succeed to\nany inheritance belonging to the _seigneurie_ of Albret as long as there\nwas a male descendant. Always receive, and never give, was their motto.\nTheir daughters had their wealth of beauty for a dowry, with a little\nmoney or a troublesome fief liable to reversion.\n\nThe Albrets are first heard of in the XIth century, when the Benedictine\nabbot of S. Pierre at Condom, alarmed for the safety of N\u00e9rac, one of\nthe abbatial possessions, called upon his brother, Amanieu d\u2019Albret, for\naid. The better to defend the monk\u2019s property, the Sire of Albret built a\ncastle on the left bank of the Ba\u00efse, and played the _r\u00f4le_ of protector\nso well that at last his descendants are found sole lords of N\u00e9rac, on\nthe public square of which now stands the statue of Henry IV., the most\nglorious of the race. The second Amanieu went to the Crusades under the\nbanner of Raymond of St. Gilles, and entered Jerusalem next to Godfrey\nof Bouillon, to whom an old historian makes him related, nobody knows\nhow. Oihenard says the Albrets descended from the old kings of Navarre,\nand a MS. of the XIVth century links them with the Counts of Bigorre;\nbut this was probably to flatter the pride of the house after it rose to\nimportance. We find a lord of Albret in the service of the Black Prince\nwith a thousand lances (five thousand men), and owner of Casteljaloux,\nLavazan, and somehow of the abbey of Sauve-Majour; but not finding the\nEnglish service sufficiently lucrative, he passed over to the enemy.\nCharles d\u2019Albret was so able a captain that he quartered the lilies of\nFrance on his shield, and held the constable\u2019s sword till the fatal\nbattle of Agincourt. Alain d\u2019Albret made a fine point in the game by\nmarrying Fran\u00e7oise de Bretagne, who, though ugly, was the niece and only\nheiress of Jean de Blois, lord of P\u00e9rigord and Limoges. His son had still\nbetter luck. He married Catherine of Navarre. If he lost his possessions\nbeyond the Pyrenees, he kept the county of Foix, and soon added the lands\nof Astarac. Henry I. of Navarre, by marrying Margaret of Valois, acquired\nall the spoils of the house of Armagnac. Thus the princely house of\nNavarre, under their daughter Jeanne, who married Antoine de Bourbon, was\nowner of all Gascony and part of Guienne. It was Henry IV. of France who\nfinally realized the expression of the blind faith of the house of Albret\nin its fortune, expressed in the prophetic device graven on the Ch\u00e2teau\nde Coarraze, where he passed his boyhood: \u201c_Lo que ha de ser no puede\nfaltar_\u201d--That which must be will be!\n\nBut we have not yet come to the door of our hero. There is another native\nof the Landes whose fame has gone out through the whole earth--whose\nwhole life and aim were in utter contrast with the spirit of these\nold lords of the heather. The only armor he ever put on was that of\nrighteousness; the only sword, that of the truth; the only jewel, that\nwhich the old rabbis say Abraham wore, the light of which raised up the\nbowed down and healed the sick, and, after his death, was placed among\nthe stars! It need not be said we refer to S. Vincent de Paul, the great\ninitiator of public charity in France, who by his benevolence perhaps\neffected as much for the good of the kingdom as Richelieu with his\npolitical genius. He was born during the religious conflicts of the XVIth\ncentury, in the little hamlet of Ranquine, in the parish of Pouy, on the\nborder of the Landes, a few miles from Dax. It must not be supposed the\n_particule_ in his name is indicative of nobility. In former times people\nwho had no name but that given them at the baptismal font often added the\nplace of their birth to prevent confusion. S. Vincent was the son of a\npeasant, and spent his childhood in watching his father\u2019s scanty flock\namong the moors. The poor cottage in which he was born is still standing,\nand near it the gigantic old oak to the hollow of which he used to retire\nto pray, both of which are objects of veneration to the pious pilgrim\nof all ranks and all lands. Somewhere in these vast solitudes--whether\namong the ruins of Notre Dame de Buglose, destroyed a little before by\nthe Huguenots, or in his secret oratory in the oak, we cannot say--he\nheard the mysterious voice which once whispered to Joan of Arc among\nthe forests of Lorraine--a voice difficult to resist, which decided his\nvocation in life. He resolved to enter the priesthood. The Franciscans\nof Dax lent him books and a cell, and gave him a pittance for the love\nof God; but he finished his studies and took his degree at Toulouse, as\nwas only discovered by papers found after his death, so unostentatious\nwas his life. He partly defrayed his expenses at Toulouse by becoming\nthe tutor of some young noblemen of Buzet. Near the latter place was a\nsolitary mountain chapel in the woods, not far from the banks of the\nTarn, called Notre Dame de Gr\u00e2ce. Its secluded position, the simplicity\nof its decorations, and the devotion he experienced in this quiet\noratory, attracted the pious student, and he often retired there to pray\nbefore the altar of Our Lady of Grace. It was there he found strength to\ntake upon himself the yoke of the priesthood--a yoke angels might fear\nto bear. It was there, in solitude and silence, assisted by a priest and\na clerk, that he offered his first Mass; for, so terrified was he by the\nimportance and sublimity of this divine function, he had not the courage\nto celebrate it in public. This chapel is still standing, and is annually\ncrowded with pilgrims on the festival of S. Vincent of Paul. It is good\nto kneel on the worn flag-stones where the saint once prayed, and pour\nout one\u2019s soul before the altar that witnessed the fervor of his first\nMass. The superior-general of the Lazarists visited this interesting\nchapel in 1851, accompanied by nearly fifty Sisters of Charity. They\nbrought a relic of the saint, a chalice and some vestments for the use of\nthe chaplain, and a bust of S. Vincent for the new altar to his memory.\n\nEvery step in S. Vincent\u2019s life is marked by the unmistakable hand of\ndivine Providence. Captured in a voyage by Algerine pirates, he is sold\nin the market-place of Tunis, that he might learn to sympathize with\nthose who are in bonds; he falls into the hands of a renegade, who,\nwith his whole family, is soon converted and makes his escape from the\ncountry. S. Vincent presents them to the papal legate at Avignon, and\ngoes to Rome, whence he returns, charged with a confidential mission by\nCardinal d\u2019Ossat. He afterwards becomes a tutor in the family of the\nComte de Gondi--another providential event. The count is governor-general\nof the galleys, and the owner of vast possessions in Normandy. S. Vincent\nlabors among the convicts, and, if he cannot release them from their\nbonds, he teaches them to bear their sufferings in a spirit of expiation.\nHe establishes rural missions in Normandy, and founds the College of\nBons-Enfants and the house of S. Lazare at Paris.\n\nA holy widow, Mme. Legros, falls under his influence, and charitable\norganizations of ladies are formed, and sisters for the special service\nof the sick are established at S. Nicolas du Chardonnet. Little children,\nabandoned by unnatural mothers, are dying of cold and hunger in the\nstreets; S. Vincent opens a foundling asylum, and during the cold winter\nnights he goes alone through the most dangerous quarters of old Paris\nin search of these poor waifs of humanity.[5] Clerical instruction is\nneeded, and Richelieu, at his instance, endows the first ecclesiastical\nseminary. The moral condition of the army excites the saint\u2019s compassion,\nand the cardinal authorizes missionaries among the soldiers. The province\nof Lorraine is suffering from famine. Mothers even devour their own\nchildren. In a short time S. Vincent collects sixteen hundred thousand\nlivres for their relief. Under the regency of Anne of Austria he becomes\na member of the Council of Ecclesiastical Affairs. In the wars of\nthe Fronde he is for peace, and negotiates between the queen and the\nparliament. The foundation of a hospital for old men marks the end of\nhis noble, unselfish life. The jewel of charity never ceases to glow\nin his breast. It is his great bequest to his spiritual children. How\npotent it has been is proved by the incalculable good effected to this\nday by the Lazarists, Sisters of Charity, and Society of S. Vincent of\nPaul--beautiful constellations in the firmament of the church!\n\nIn the midst of his honors S. Vincent never forgot his humble origin, but\noften referred to it with the true spirit of _ama nesciri et pro nihilo\nreputari_. Not that he was inaccessible to human weakness, but he knew\nhow to resist it. We read in his interesting _Life_ by Abb\u00e9 Maynard that\nthe porter of the College of Bons-Enfants informed the superior one day\nthat a poorly-clad peasant, styling himself his nephew, was at the door.\nS. Vincent blushed and ordered him to be taken up to his room. Then he\nblushed for having blushed, and, going down into the street, embraced his\nnephew and led him into the court, where, summoning all the professors of\nthe college, he presented the confused youth: \u201cGentlemen, this is the\nmost respectable of my family.\u201d And he continued, during the remainder of\nhis visit, to introduce him to visitors of every rank as if he were some\ngreat lord, in order to avenge his first movement of pride. And when, not\nlong after, he made a retreat, he publicly humbled himself before his\nassociates: \u201cBrethren, pray for one who through pride wished to take his\nnephew secretly to his room because he was a peasant and poorly dressed.\u201d\n\nS. Vincent returned only once to his native place after he began his\napostolic career. This was at the close of a mission among the convicts\nof Bordeaux. During his visit he solemnly renewed his baptismal vows\nin the village church where he had been baptized and made his First\nCommunion, and on the day of his departure he went with bare feet on a\npilgrimage to Notre Dame de Buglose, among whose ruins he had so often\nprayed in his childhood, but which was now rebuilt. He was accompanied,\nnot only by his relatives, but by all the villagers, who were justly\nproud of their countryman. He sang a solemn Mass at the altar of Our\nLady, and afterwards assembled the whole family around the table for a\nmodest repast, at the end of which he rose to take leave of them. They\nall fell at his feet and implored his blessing. \u201cYes, I give you my\nblessing,\u201d replied he, much affected, \u201cbut I bless you poor and humble,\nand beg our Lord to continue among you the grace of holy poverty.\nNever abandon the condition in which you were born. This is my earnest\nrecommendation, which I beg you to transmit as a heritage to your\nchildren. Farewell for ever!\u201d\n\nHis advice was religiously kept. By mutual assistance his family might\nhave risen above its original obscurity. Some of his mother\u2019s family were\nadvocates at the parliament of Bordeaux, and it would have been easy to\nobtain offices that would have given them, at least, prominence in their\nown village; but they clung to their rural pursuits. The advice of their\nsainted relative was too precious a legacy to be renounced.\n\nNot that S. Vincent was insensible to their condition or unambitious\nby nature, but he knew the value of the hidden life and the perils\nof worldly ambition. We have on this occasion another glimpse of his\nstruggles with nature. Hardly had he left his relatives before he gave\nvent to his emotion in a flood of tears, and he almost reproached himself\nfor leaving them in their poverty. But let us quote his own words: \u201cThe\nday I left home I was so filled with sorrow at separating from my poor\nrelatives that I wept as I went along--wept almost incessantly. Then came\nthe thought of aiding them and bettering their condition; of giving so\nmuch to this one, and so much to that. While my heart thus melted within\nme, I divided all I had with them. Yes, even what I had not; and I say\nthis to my confusion, for God perhaps permitted it to make me comprehend\nthe value of the evangelical counsel. For three months I felt this\nimportunate longing to promote the interests of my brothers and sisters.\nIt constantly weighed on my poor heart. During this time, when I felt a\nlittle relieved, I prayed God to deliver me from this temptation, and\npersevered so long in my prayer that at length he had pity on me and\ntook away this excessive tenderness for my relations; and though they\nhave been needy, and still are, the good God has given me the grace to\ncommit them to his Providence, and to regard them as better off than if\nthey were in an easier condition.\u201d\n\nS. Vincent was equally rigid as to his own personal necessities, as may\nbe seen by the following words from his own lips: \u201cWhen I put a morsel of\nbread to my mouth, I say to myself: Wretched man, hast thou earned the\nbread thou art going to eat--the bread that comes from the labor of the\npoor?\u201d\n\nSuch is the spirit of the saints. In these days, when most people are\nstruggling to rise in the world, many by undue means, and to an unlawful\nheight, it is well to recall this holy example; it is good to get a\nglimpse into the heart of a saint, and to remember there are still many\nin the world and in the cloister who strive to counterbalance all this\nambition and love of display by their humility and self-denial.\n\nImmediately after S. Vincent\u2019s canonization, in 1737, the inhabitants of\nPouy, desirous of testifying their veneration for his memory, removed the\nhouse where he was born a short distance from its original place, without\nchanging its primitive form in the least, and erected a small chapel\non the site, till means could be obtained for building a church. The\ngreat Revolution put a stop to the plan. In 1821 a new effort was made,\na committee appointed, and a subscription begun which soon amounted to\nthirty thousand francs; but at the revolution of 1830 material interests\nprevailed, and the funds were appropriated to the construction of roads.\n\nThe ecclesiastical authorities at length took the matter in hand, and\nformed the plan, not only of building a church, but surrounding it with\nthe various charitable institutions founded by S. Vincent--a hospital\nfor the aged, asylums for orphans and foundlings, and perhaps a _ferme\nmod\u00e8le_ in the Landes.\n\nIn 1850 the Bishop of Aire appealed to the Catholic world for aid. Pius\nIX. blessed the undertaking. On the Festival of the Transfiguration,\n1851, the corner-stone was laid by the bishop, assisted by P\u00e8re Etienne,\nthe superior-general of the Lazarists. Napoleon III. and the Empress\nEug\u00e9nie largely contributed to the work, and in a few years the church\nand hospice were completed. The consecration took place April 24, 1864,\nin the presence of an immense multitude from all parts of the country.\nFrom three o\u2019clock in the morning there were Masses at a dozen altars,\nand the hands of the priests were fatigued in administering the holy\nEucharist. Among the communicants were eight hundred members of the\nSociety of S. Vincent de Paul, from Bordeaux, who manifested their joy\nby enthusiastic hymns. At eight in the forenoon P\u00e8re Etienne, surrounded\nby Lazarists and Sisters of Charity, celebrated the Holy Sacrifice at\nthe newly-consecrated high altar, and several novices made their vows,\namong whom was a young African, a cousin of Abdel Kader. A _ch\u00e2sse_\ncontaining relics of S. Vincent was brought in solemn procession from the\nparish church of Pouy, where he had been held at the font and received\nthe divine Guest in his heart for the first time. The road was strewn\nwith flowers and green leaves. The weather was delightful and the heavens\nradiant. At the head of the procession was borne a banner, on which S.\nVincent was represented as a shepherd, followed by all the orphans of\nthe new asylum and the old men of the hospice. Then came a long line\nof _Enfants de Marie_ dressed in white, carrying oriflammes, followed\nby the students of the colleges of Aire and Dax. Behind were fifteen\nhundred members of the Society of S. Vincent de Paul, and a file of\nsisters of various orders, including eight hundred Sisters of Charity,\nwith a great number of Lazarists in the rear. Then came thirty relatives\nof S. Vincent, wearing the peasant\u2019s costume of the district, heirs of\nhis virtues and simplicity--_Noblesse oblige_. Then the Polish Lazarists\nwith the flag of their nation, beloved by S. Vincent, and after them\nthe clergy of the diocese and a great number from foreign parts, among\nwhom was M. Eug\u00e8ne Bor\u00e9, of Constantinople, now superior-general of the\ntwo orders founded by the saint. The shrine came next, surrounded by\nLazarists and Sisters of Charity. Behind the canons and other dignitaries\ncame eight bishops, four archbishops, and Cardinal Donnet of Bordeaux,\nfollowed by the civil authorities and an immense multitude of people\nnearly two miles in extent, with banners bearing touching devices.\n\nThis grand procession of more than thirty thousand people proceeded with\nthe utmost order, to the sound of chants, instrumental music, and salutes\nfrom cannon from time to time, to the square in front of the new church,\nwhere, before an altar erected at the foot of S. Vincent\u2019s oak, they were\naddressed by P\u00e8re Etienne in an eloquent, thrilling discourse, admirable\nin style and glowing with imagery, suited to the fervid nature of this\nsouthern region. He spoke of S. Vincent, not only as the man of his age\nwith a providential mission, but of a type suited to all ages.\n\nThe man who loved his brethren, reconciled enemies, brought the rich and\npoor into one common field imbued with a common idea of sacrifice and\ndevotion, fed the orphan, aided the needy, and wiped away the tears of\nthe sufferer, is the man of all times, and especially of an age marked by\nthe fomentation of political passions.\n\nThe old oak was gay with streamers, the hollow was fitted up as an\noratory, before which Cardinal Donnet said Mass in the open air, after\nwhich thousands of voices joined in the solemn _Te Deum Laudamus_, and\nthe thirteen prelates terminated the grand ceremony by giving their\nunited benediction to the kneeling crowd.\n\nA whole flock of Sisters of Charity, with their dove-like plumage of\nwhite and gray, took the same train as ourselves the pleasant September\nmorning we left Bayonne for the birth-place of S. Vincent of Paul. They\nseemed like birds of good omen. They were also going to the _Berceau_\n(cradle), as they called it, not on a mere pilgrimage, but to make their\nannual retreat. What for, the saints alone know; for they looked like the\npersonification of every amiable virtue, and quite ready to spread their\nwhite wings and take flight for heaven. It was refreshing to watch their\ngentle, unaffected ways, wholly devoid of those demure airs of superior\nsanctity and repulsive austerity so exasperating to us worldly-minded\npeople. They all made the sign of the cross as the train moved out of\nthe station--and a good honest one it was, as if they loved the sign\nof the Son of Man, and delighted in wearing it on their breast. Some\nhad come from St. Sebastian, others from St. Jean de Luz, and several\nfrom Bayonne; but they mingled like sisters of one great family of\ncharity. Some chatted, some took out their rosaries and went to praying\nwith the most cheerful air imaginable, as if it were a new refreshment\njust allowed them, instead of being the daily food of their souls; and\nothers seemed to be studying with interest the peculiar region we were\nnow entering. For we were now in the Landes--low, level, monotonous, and\nmelancholy. The railway lay through vast forests of dusky-pines, varied\nby willows and cork-trees, with here and there, at long distances, an\nopen tract where ripened scanty fields of corn and millet around the low\ncottages of the peasants. The sides of the road were purple with heather.\nThe air was full of aromatic odors. Each pine had its broad gash cut by\nsome merciless hand, and its life-blood was slowly trickling down its\nside. Passing through this sad forest, one could not help thinking of\nthe drear, mystic wood in Dante\u2019s _Inferno_, where every tree encloses a\nhuman soul with infinite capacity of suffering, and at every gash cut,\nevery branch lopped off, utters a despairing cry:\n\n                \u201cWhy pluck\u2019st thou me?\n    Then, as the dark blood trickled down its side,\n    These words it added: Wherefore tear\u2019st me thus?\n    Is there no touch of mercy in thy breast?\n    Men once were we that now are rooted here.\u201d\n\nThough the sun was hot, the pine needles seemed to shiver, the branches\nswayed to and fro in the air, and gave out a kind of sigh which sometimes\nincreased into an inarticulate wail. We look up, almost expecting to see\nthe harpies sitting\n\n    \u201cEach on the wild thorn of his wretched shade.\u201d\n\nCould we stop, we might question these maimed trees and learn some\nfearful tragedy from the imprisoned spirits. Perhaps they recount them\nto each other in the wild winter nights when the peasants, listening\nwith a kind of fear in their lone huts, start up from their beds and\nsay it is Rey Artus--King Arthur--who is passing by with his long train\nof dogs, horses, and huntsmen, from an old legend of the time of the\nEnglish occupation which says that King Arthur, as he was hearing Mass on\nEaster-day, attracted by the cries of his hounds attacking their prey,\nwent out at the elevation of the Host. A whirlwind carried him into the\nclouds, where he has hunted ever since, and will, without cessation or\nrepose, till the day of judgment, only taking a fly every seven years.\nThe popular belief that he is passing with a great noise through space\nwhen the winds sweep across the vast moors on stormy nights probably\nembodies the old tradition of some powerful lord whose hounds and\nhuntsmen ruined the crops of the poor, who, in their wrath, consigned\nthem to endless barren hunting-fields in the spirit-land--a legend which\nreminds us of the _Aasgaardsreja_ of whom Miss Bremer tells us--spirits\nnot good enough to merit heaven, and yet not bad enough to deserve\nhell, and are therefore doomed to ride about till the end of the world,\ncarrying fear and disaster in their train.\n\nIn a little over an hour we arrived at Dax, a pleasant town on the banks\nof the Adour, with long lines of sycamores, behind which is a hill\ncrowned with an old ch\u00e2teau, now belonging to the Lazarists. The place\nis renowned for its thermal springs and mud-baths, known to the Romans\nbefore its conquest by the C\u00e6sars. It was from Aqu\u00e6 August\u00e6, the capital\nof the ancient Tarbelli (called in the Middle Ages the _ville d\u2019Acqs_,\nor _d\u2019Acs_, whence Dax), that the name of Aquitaine is supposed to be\nderived. Pliny, the naturalist, speaking of the Aquenses, says: _Aquitani\nind\u00e8 nomen provinci\u00e6_. The Bay of Biscay was once known by the name of\nSinus Tarbellicus, from the ancient Tarbelli. Lucan says:\n\n              \u201cTunc rura Nemossi\n    Qui tenet et ripas Aturri, quo littore curvo\n    Molliter admissum claudit Tarbellicus \u00e6quor.\u201d\n\nS. Vincent of Saintonge was the first apostle of the region, and fell a\nmartyr to his zeal. Dax formed part of the dowry of the daughter of Henry\nII. of England when she married Alfonso of Castile, but it returned to\nthe Plantagenets in the time of Edward III. The city was an episcopal\nsee before the revolution of 1793. Fran\u00e7ois de Noailles, one of the\nmost distinguished of its bishops, was famous as a diplomatist in the\nXVIth century. He was sent to England on several important missions, and\nfinally appointed ambassador to that country in the reign of Mary Tudor.\nRecalled when Philip II. induced her to declare war against France, he\nlanded at Calais, and, carefully examining the fortifications, his keen,\nobservant eye soon discovered the weak point, to which, at his arrival\nin court, he at once directed the king\u2019s attention, declaring it would\nnot be a difficult matter to take the place. His statements made such an\nimpression on King Henry, who had always found him as judicious as he was\ndevoted to the interests of the crown, that he resolved to lay siege to\nCalais, notwithstanding the opposition of his ministers, and the Duke of\nGuise began the attack January 1, 1558. The place was taken in a week.\nIt had cost the English a year\u2019s siege two hundred and ten years before.\nThree weeks after its surrender Cardinal Hippolyte de Ferrara, Archbishop\nof Auch (the son of Lucretia Borgia, who married Alphonso d\u2019Este, Duke\nof Ferrara) wrote Fran\u00e7ois de Noailles as follows: \u201cNo one can help\nacknowledging the great hand you had in the taking of Calais, as it was\nactually taken at the very place you pointed out.\u201d French historians have\nbeen too forgetful of the hand the Bishop of Dax had in the taking of a\nplace so important to the interests of the nation, which added so much to\nthe glory of the French arms, and was so humiliating to England, whose\nanguish was echoed by the queen when she exclaimed that if her heart\ncould be opened the very name of Calais would be found written therein!\n\nThis great churchman was no less successful in his embassy to Venice,\nwhere he triumphed over the haughty pretensions of Philip II., and, as\nBrant\u00f4me says, \u201cwon great honor and affection.\u201d After five years in Italy\nhe returned to Dax, where he devoted most of his revenues to relieve\nthe misery that prevailed at that fearful time of religious war. Dax,\nas he said, was \u201cthe poorest see in France.\u201d In 1571 he was appointed\nambassador to Constantinople by Charles IX. Florimond de Raymond, an old\nwriter of that day, tells us the bishop was at first troubled as to his\npresentation to the sultan, who only regarded the highest dignitaries\nas the dust of his feet, and exacted ceremonies which the ambassador\nconsidered beneath the dignity of a bishop and a representative of\nFrance. He resolved not to submit to them, and, thanks to his pleasing\naddress, and handsome person dressed for the occasion in red _cramoisie_\nand cloth of gold, he was not subjected to them. Moreover, by his\nfascinating manners and agreeable conversation, he became a great\nfavorite of the sultan, and took so judicious a course that his embassy\nended by rendering France mistress of the commerce of the Mediterranean,\nand giving her a pre-eminence in the East which she has never lost.\n\nIt was after his return from the Levant that, in an interview with Henry\nIII., the sagacious bishop urged the king to declare war against Spain,\nas the best means of delivering France from the horrors of a civil war.\nDe Thou says the king seemed to listen favorably to the suggestion; but\nit was opposed by the council, and it was not till ten years later that\nHenry IV. declared war against that country, as Duruy states, \u201cthe better\nto end the civil war.\u201d\n\nThe Bishop of Dax seems to have been poorly remunerated for his eminent\nservices. Like Frederick the Great\u2019s father, he said kings were always\nhard of hearing when there was a question of money, and complained\nthat, notwithstanding his long services abroad, he had never received\neither honors or profit. Even his appointments as ambassador to Venice,\namounting to more than thirty thousand livres, were still due. Many of\nhis letters to the king and to Marie de M\u00e9dicis have been preserved,\nwhich show his elevation of mind, and his broad political and religious\nviews, which give him a right to be numbered among the great churchmen of\nthe XVIth century.\n\nAt Dax we took a carriage to the _Berceau_ of S. Vincent, and, after\nhalf an hour\u2019s drive along a level road bordered with trees, we came\nin sight of the great dome of the church rising up amid a group of fine\nbuildings. Driving up to the door, the first thing we observed was the\nbenign statue of the saint standing on the gable against the clear, blue\nsky, with arms wide-spread, smiling on the pilgrim a very balm of peace.\nBefore the church there is a broad green, at the right of which is the\nvenerable old oak; at the left, the cottage of the De Pauls; and in the\nrear of the church, the asylums and hospice--fine establishments one is\nsurprised to find in this remote region. We at once entered the church,\nwhich is in the style of the Renaissance. It consists of a nave without\naisles, a circular apsis, and transepts which form the arms of the cross,\nin the centre of which rises the dome, lined with an indifferent fresco\nrepresenting S. Vincent borne to heaven by the angels. Directly beneath\nis the high altar where are enshrined relics of the saint. Around it,\nat the four angles of the cross, are statues of four S. Vincents--of\nXaintes, of Saragossa, of Lerins, and S. Vincent Ferrer. The whole life\nof S. Vincent of Paul is depicted in the stained-glass windows. And on\nthe walls of the nave are four paintings, one representing him as a boy,\npraying before Our Lady of Buglose; the second, his first Mass in the\nchapel of Notre Dame de Gr\u00e2ce; in the third he is redeeming captives, and\nin the fourth giving alms to the poor.\n\nWe next visited the asylums, admiring the clean, airy rooms, the\nintelligent, happy faces of the orphans, and the graceful cordiality of\nthe sister who was at the head of the establishment--a lady of fortune\nwho has devoted her all to the work.\n\nAt length we came to the cottage--the door of the true hero to which\nour path had led. The broad, one-story house in which S. Vincent was\nborn is now a mere skeleton within, the framework of the partitions\nalone remaining, so one can take in the whole at a glance. There is the\nkitchen, with the huge, old-fashioned chimney, around which the family\nused to gather--so enormous that in looking up one sees a vast extent of\nblue sky. Saint\u2019s house though it was, we could not help thinking--Heaven\nforgive us the profane thought!--it must have been very much like the\nsquire\u2019s chimney in _Tylney Hall_, the draught of which, like the Polish\ngame of draughts, was apt to take backwards and discharge all the smoke\ninto his sitting-room! The second room at the left, where the saint was\nborn, is an oratory containing an altar, the crucifix he used to pray\nbefore, some of the garments he wore, shoes broad and much-enduring as\nhis own nature, and many other precious relics. Not only this, but every\nroom has an altar. We counted seven, all of the simplest construction,\nfor the convenience of the pilgrims who come here with their _cur\u00e9s_ at\ncertain seasons of the year to honor their sainted countryman who in his\nyouth here led a simple, laborious life like themselves. We found several\npersons at prayer in the various compartments, all of which showed the\nprimitive habits and limited resources of the family, though not absolute\npoverty. The floor was of earth, the walls and great rafters only\npolished with time and the kisses of the pilgrims, and above the rude\nstairway, a mere loft where perchance the saint slept in his boyhood.\nEverything in this cottage, where a great heart was cradled, was from its\nvery simplicity extremely touching. It seemed the very place to meditate\non the mysterious ways of divine Providence--mysterious as the wind that\nbloweth where it listeth--the very place to chant the _Suscitans \u00e0 terr\u00e2\ninopem: et de stercore erigens pauperem; ut collocet eum cum principibus,\ncum principibus populi sui_.\n\nS. Vincent\u2019s oak, on the opposite side of the green, looks old enough to\nhave witnessed the mysterious rites of the Druids. It is surrounded by\na railing to protect it from the pious depredations of the pilgrim. It\nstill spreads broad its branches covered with verdure, though the trunk\nis so hollowed by decay that one side is entirely gone, and in the heart,\nwhere young Vincent used to pray, stands a wooden pillar on which is a\nstatue of the Virgin, pure and white, beneath the green bower. A crowd of\nartists, _savants_, soldiers, and princes have bent before this venerable\ntree. In 1823 the public authorities of the commune received the Duchess\nof Angoul\u00eame at its foot. The learned and pious Ozanam, one of the\nfounders of the Society of S. Vincent of Paul, came here in his last days\nto offer a prayer. On the list of foreign visitors is the name of the\nlate venerable Bishop Flaget of Kentucky, of whom it is recorded that he\nkissed the tree with love and veneration, and plucked, as every pilgrim\ndoes, a leaf from its branches.\n\nThere is an herb, says Pliny, found on Mt. Atlas; they who gather it see\nmore clearly. There is something of this virtue in the oak of S. Vincent\nof Paul. One sees more clearly than ever at its foot the infinite moral\nsuperiority of a nature like his to the worldly ambition of the old lords\nof the Landes. Famous as the latter were in their day, who thinks of them\nnow? Who cares for the lords of Castelnau, the Seigneurs of Juliac, or\neven for the Sires of Albret, whose ancient castle at Labrit is now razed\nto the ground, and, while we write, its last traces obliterated for ever?\nThe shepherd whistles idly among the ruins of their once strong holds,\nthe ploughman drives thoughtlessly over the place where they once held\nproud sway, as indifferent as the beasts themselves; but there is not a\npeasant in the Landes who does not cherish the memory of S. Vincent of\nPaul, or a noble who does not respect his name; and thousands annually\nvisit the poor house where he was born and look with veneration at the\noak where he prayed.\n\nCharity is the great means of making the poor forget the fearful\ninequality of worldly riches, and its obligation reminds the wealthy they\nare only part of a great brotherhood. Its exercise softens the heart and\naverts the woe pronounced on the rich. S. John of God, wishing to found\na hospital at Granada, and without a ducat in the world, walked slowly\nthrough the streets and squares with a hod on his back and two great\nkettles at his side, crying with a loud voice: \u201cWho wishes to do good to\nhimself? Ah! my brethren, for the love of God, do good to yourselves!\u201d\nAnd alms flowed in from every side. It was these appeals in the divine\nname that gave him his appellation. \u201cWhat is your name?\u201d asked Don\nRamirez, Bishop of Tuy. \u201cJohn,\u201d was the reply. \u201cHenceforth you shall be\ncalled John of God,\u201d said the bishop.\n\nAnd so, that we may all become the sons of God, let us here, at the foot\nof S. Vincent\u2019s oak, echo the words that in life were so often on his\nlips:\n\nCARITATEM, PROPTER DEUM!\n\n\nLORD CASTLEHAVEN\u2019S MEMOIRS.[6]\n\nIn the year 1638 the Earl of Castlehaven, then a young man, made the\nGrand Tour, as became a nobleman of his family in that age. Being at\nRome, whither the duty of paying his respects to the Holy Father had\ncarried him--for this lord was the head of one of those grand old\nfamilies which had declined to forswear its faith at the behest of Henry\nor Elizabeth--he received a letter from King Charles I., requiring him to\nattend the king in his expedition against the Scots, then revolted and\nin arms. With that instant loyalty which was the return made by those\nproscribed families to an ungrateful court from the Armada down, Lord\nCastlehaven, two days after the messenger had placed the royal missive\nin his hands, took post for England. Near Turin he fell in with an army\ncommanded by the Marquis de Leganes, Governor of Milan for the King of\nSpain, who was marching to besiege the Savoy capital. But the siege was\nsoon raised, and Lord Castlehaven entered the town. There he found her\nRoyal Highness the Duchess of Savoy in great confusion, as if she had got\nno rest for many nights, so much had she been occupied with the conduct\nof the defence; for even the wives of this warlike and rapacious family\nsoon learned to defend their own by the strong hand, and could stretch it\nout to grasp still more when occasion served. But as yet the ambition of\nthe House of Savoy stopped short of sacrilege--or stooped to it like a\nhawk on short flights--nor dreamed of aggrandizing itself with the spoils\nof the whole territory of the church. When Lord Castlehaven came to\ntake leave of the duchess, her royal highness gave him a musket-bullet,\nmuch battered, which had come in at her window and missed her narrowly,\ncharging him to deliver it safely to her sister, the Queen of England--as\nit proved, a present of ill omen; for of musket-balls, in a little time,\nthe English sister had more than enough.\n\nArriving in London, Lord Castlehaven followed the king to Berwick,\nwhere he found the royal army encamped, with the Tweed before it, and\nthe Scotch, under Gen. Leslie, lying at some distance. A pacification\nwas soon effected, and both armies partially disbanded. After this the\nearl passed his time \u201cas well as he could\u201d at home till 1640. In that\nyear the King of France besieged Arras, and Lord Castlehaven set out to\nwitness the siege. Within was a stout garrison under Owen Roe O\u2019Neal,\ncommanding for the Prince Cardinal, Governor of the Low Countries. This\nwas the first meeting of Castlehaven with the future victor of Benburb,\nwith whom he was afterwards brought into closer relations in the Irish\nRebellion. The French pressed Arras close, and the confederates being\ndefeated, and the hope of the siege being raised grown desperate,\nthe town was surrendered on honorable terms. This action over, Lord\nCastlehaven returned to England and sat in Parliament till the attainder\nof the Earl of Strafford. When that great nobleman fell, deserted by\nhis wavering royal master, and the king\u2019s friends were beginning to\nturn about--they scarce knew whither--to prepare for the storm that all\nmen saw was coming, Lord Castlehaven went to Ireland, where he had some\nestate and three married sisters. While there the Rebellion of 1641 broke\nout. Although innocent of any complicity in the outbreak, his faith\nmade him suspected, and he was imprisoned on a slight pretext by the\nlords-justices. Escaping, his first design was to get into France, and\nthence to England to join the king at York, and petition for a trial by\nhis peers. But coming to Kilkenny, he found there the Supreme Council\nof the Confederate Catholics just assembled--many of them being of his\nacquaintance--and was persuaded by them to throw in his lot with theirs,\nseeing, as they truly told him, that they were all persecuted on the same\nscore, and ruined so that they had nothing more to lose but their lives.\nFrom that time till the peace of 1646 he was engaged in the war of the\nConfederate Catholics, holding important commands in the field under the\nSupreme Council. His _Memoirs_ is the history of this war.\n\nAfter the peace of 1646, concluded with the Marquis of Ormond, the king\u2019s\nlord-lieutenant, but which shortly fell through, Lord Castlehaven retired\nto France, and served as a volunteer under Prince Rupert at the siege of\nLandrecies. Then, returning to Paris, he remained in attendance on the\nQueen of England and the Prince of Wales (Charles II.) at St. Germain\ntill 1648. In that year he returned to Ireland with the lord-lieutenant,\nthe Marquis of Ormond, and served the royal cause in that kingdom\nagainst the parliamentary forces under Ireton and Cromwell. The battle\nof Worcester being lost, and Cromwell the undisputed master of the three\nkingdoms, Castlehaven again followed the clouded fortunes of Charles II.\nto France. There he obtained permission to join the Great Cond\u00e9. In the\ncampaigns under that prince he had the command of eight or nine regiments\nof Irish troops, making altogether a force of 5,000 men. Thus we find\nthe Irish refugees already consolidated into a brigade some years before\nthe Treaty of Limerick expatriated those soldiers whose valor is more\ncommonly identified with that title.\n\nLord Castlehaven returned to England at the Restoration. In the war\nwith Holland he served as a volunteer in some of the naval engagements.\nIn 1667, the French having invaded Flanders, he was ordered there with\n2,400 men to recruit the \u201cOld English Regiment,\u201d of which he was made\ncolonel. The peace of Aix-la-Chapelle ended this war. Peace reigned in\nthe Low Countries till the breaking out, in 1673, of the long and bloody\ncontest between the Prince of Orange and the confederate Spaniards and\nImperialists on the one side, and Louis XIV. on the other. This was\nthe age of grand campaigns, conducted upon principles of mathematical\nprecision by the great captains formed in the school of M. Turenne,\nbefore the \u201clittle Marquis of Brandenburg\u201d[7] and the \u201cCorsican\ncorporal\u201d in turn revolutionized the art of war. Castlehaven entered\nthe Spanish service, and shared the checkered but generally disastrous\nfortunes of the Duke of Villahermosa and the Prince of Orange (William\nIII.) against Cond\u00e9 and Luxembourg, till the peace of Nymegen put an end\nto the war in 1678.\n\nThen, after forty years\u2019 hard service, this veteran retired from the\nfield, and returning to England, like another C\u00e6sar, set about writing\nhis commentaries on the wars. Thus he spent his remaining years. First\nhe published, but without acknowledging the authorship, his _Memoirs\nof the Irish Wars_. This first edition was suppressed. Then, in 1684,\nappeared the second edition, containing, besides the _Memoirs_,\nhis \u201cAppendix\u201d--being an account of his Continental service--his\n\u201cObservations\u201d on confederate armies and the conduct of war, and a\n\u201cPostscript,\u201d which is a reply to the Earl of Anglesey. And right well\nhas the modern reader reason to be thankful for his lordship\u2019s literary\nspirit. His _Memoirs_ is one of the most authentic and trustworthy\naccounts we have of that vexed passage of Irish history--the Rebellion\nof 1641. Its blunt frankness is its greatest charm; it has the value of\nan account by an actor in the scenes described; and it possesses that\nmerit of impartiality which comes of being written by an Englishman\nwho, connected with the Irish leaders by the ties of faith, family, and\nproperty, and sympathizing fully with their efforts to obtain redress\nfor flagrant wrongs was yet not blind to their mistakes and indefensible\nactions.\n\nCastlehaven, neglected for more than a century, has received more\njustice at the hands of later historians. He is frequently referred to by\nLingard, and his work will be found an admirable commentary on Carte\u2019s\n_Life of Ormond_. There is a notice of him in Horace Walpole\u2019s _Catalogue\nof Royal and Noble Authors_ (vol. iii.)\n\n\u201cIf this lord,\u201d says Walpole, \u201cwho led a very martial life, had not\ntaken the pains to record his own actions (which, however, he has done\nwith great frankness and ingenuity), we should know little of his\nstory, our historians scarce mentioning him, and even our writers of\nanecdotes, as Burnet, or of tales and circumstances, as Roger North,\nnot giving any account of a court quarrel occasioned by his lordship\u2019s\n_Memoirs_. Anthony Wood alone has preserved this event, but has not\nmade it intelligible. \u2026 The earl had been much censured for his share\nin the Irish Rebellion, and wrote the _Memoirs_ to explain his conduct\nrather than to excuse it; for he freely confesses his faults, and imputes\nthem to provocations from the government of that kingdom, to whose\nrashness and cruelty, conjointly with the votes and resolutions of the\nEnglish Parliament, he ascribes the massacre. There are no dates nor\nmethod, and less style, in these _Memoirs_--defects atoned for in some\nmeasure by a martial honesty. Soon after their publication the Earl of\nAnglesey wrote to ask a copy. Lord Castlehaven sent him one, but denying\nthe work as his. Anglesey, who had been a commissioner in Ireland for\nthe Parliament, published Castlehaven\u2019s letter, with observations and\nreflections very abusive of the Duke of Ormond, which occasioned first\na printed controversy, and this a trial before the Privy Council; the\nevent of which was that Anglesey\u2019s first letter was voted a scandalous\nlibel, and himself removed from the custody of the Privy Seal; and that\nthe Earl of Castlehaven\u2019s _Memoirs_, on which he was several times\nexamined, and which he owned, was declared a scandalous libel on the\ngovernment--a censure that seems very little founded; there is not a word\nthat can authorize that sentence from the Council of Charles II. but\nthe imputation on the lords-justices of Charles I.; for I suppose the\nPrivy Council did not pique themselves on vindicating the honor of the\nrepublican Parliament! Bishop Morley wrote _A True Account of the Whole\nProceeding between James, Duke of Ormond, and Arthur, Earl of Anglesey_.\u201d\n\nImmediately after the Restoration, as it is well known, an act was\npassed, commonly called in that age \u201cthe Act of Oblivion,\u201d by which all\npenalties (except certain specified ones) incurred in the late troublous\nand rebellious times were forgiven. So superfine would have been the net\nwhich the law of treason would have drawn around the three kingdoms, had\nits strict construction been enforced, that it was quite cut loose, a few\nonly of the greatest criminals and regicides being held in its meshes.\nSo harsh had been Cromwell\u2019s iron rule that there were few counties of\nEngland in which the stoutest squires, and even the most loyal, might\nnot have trembled had the king\u2019s commission inquired too closely into\nthe legal question of connivance at the late tyrant\u2019s rule. And in the\ngreat cities, London especially, the tide of enthusiasm which now ran\nso strongly for the king could not hide the memory of those days when\nthe same fierce crowds had clamored for the head of the \u201croyal martyr.\u201d\nPrudent it was, as well as benign, therefore, for the \u201cmerry monarch\u201d\nto let time roll smoothly over past transgressions. But though the law\nmight grant oblivion, and even punish the revival of controversies,\nthe old rancor between individuals and even parties was not so easily\nappeased after the first joyful outburst. Books and pamphlets by the\nhundred brought charges and counter charges. But these \u201cauthors of\nslander and lyes,\u201d as Castlehaven calls them, outdid themselves in their\ntragical stories of the Irish Rebellion of 1641. Nor have imitators been\nwanting in this age, as rancorous and more skilful, in the production\nof \u201cfictions and invectives to traduce a whole nation.\u201d To answer those\ncalumnies by \u201csetting forth the truth of his story in a brief and plain\nmethod\u201d was the design of Castlehaven\u2019s work.\n\nThen, as now, it was the aim of the libellers of the Irish people to\nmake the whole nation accountable for the \u201cmassacre,\u201d so called, of\n1641, and to confound the war of the Confederate Catholics and the\nlater loyal resistance to Cromwell in one common denunciation with the\nfirst sanguinary and criminal outbreak. Lord Castlehaven\u2019s narrative\neffectually disposes of this charge. In a singularly clear and candid\nmanner he narrates the rise and progress of the insurrection, and\nshows the wide difference between the aims and motives of those who\nplanned the uprising of October 23, 1641, and of those who afterwards\ncarried on the war under the title of the Confederate Catholics of\nIreland. The former he does not hesitate to denounce as a \u201cbarbarous\nand inhumane\u201d conspiracy, but the responsibility for it he fixes in the\nright quarter--the malevolent character of the Irish government and the\natrocious spirit of the English Puritan Parliament, which, abandoning all\nthe duties of protection, kept only one object in view--the extirpation\nof the native Irish.\n\nWith the successful example of the Scotch Rebellion immediately before\nthem, it was a matter of little wonder to observant and impartial minds\nin that age that the Irish should have seized upon the occasion of the\ngrowing quarrel between the king and Parliament as the opportune moment\nfor the redress of their grievances. For in the year 1640, two years\nafter the pacification of Berwick, the Scotch Rebellion, primarily\ninstigated by the same cause as the Irish--religious differences--broke\nout with greater violence than ever. The Scots\u2019 army invaded England,\ndefeated the king\u2019s troops at Newburn, and took Newcastle. Then,\ndriven to extremity by those Scotch rebels, as mercenary as they\nwere fanatical,[8] and his strength paralyzed by the growing English\nsedition, Charles I. called together \u201cthat unfortunate Parliament\u201d which,\nproceeding from one violence to another, first destroyed its master,\nand then was in turn destroyed by its own servant. Far from voting the\nScotch army rebels and traitors, the Parliament at once styled them \u201cdear\nbrethren\u201d and voted them \u00a3300,000 for their kindness. Mr. Gervase Holles\nwas expelled from the House for saying in the course of debate \u201cthat the\nbest way of paying them was by arms to expel them out of the kingdom.\u201d\nThe quarrel between King and Commons grew hotter, until finally it became\nevident that, notwithstanding Charles\u2019 concessions, a violent rupture\ncould not be long delayed.\n\nNo fairer opportunity could be hoped for by the Irish leaders,\ndissatisfied with their own condition, and spurred on by the hope of\nwinning as good measure of success as the Scotch. The plan to surprise\nthe Castle of Dublin and the other English garrisons was quickly matured;\nbut failing, some of the conspirators were taken and executed, and the\nrest forced to retire to the woods and mountains. But the flame thus\nlighted soon spread over the whole kingdom, and occasioned a war which\nlasted without intermission for ten years.\n\nThe following reasons are declared by Castlehaven to have been afterwards\noffered to him by the Irish as the explanation of this insurrection:\n\nFirst, that, being constantly looked upon by the English government as\na conquered nation, and never treated as natural or free-born subjects,\nthey considered themselves entitled to regain their liberty whenever they\nbelieved it to be in their power to do so.\n\nSecondly, that in the North, where the insurrection broke out with the\ngreatest violence, six whole counties had been escheated to the crown at\none blow, on account of Tyrone\u2019s rebellion; and although it was shown\nthat a large portion of the population of those counties was innocent of\ncomplicity in that rising, nothing had ever been restored, but the whole\nbestowed by James I. upon his countrymen. To us, who live at the distance\nof two centuries and a half from those days of wholesale rapine, these\nconfiscations still seem the most gigantic instance of English wrong;\nbut who shall tell their maddening effect upon those who suffered from\nthem in person in that age--the men flying to the mountains, the women\nperishing in the fields, the children crying for food they could not get?\n\nThirdly, the popular alarm was heightened by the reports, current during\nStrafford\u2019s government in Ireland, that the counties of Roscommon, Mayo,\nGalway, and Cork, and parts of Tipperary, Limerick, and Wicklow, were to\nshare the fate of the Ulster counties. It hardly needs the example of our\nown Revolution to prove the truth of Castlehaven\u2019s observation upon this\nproject: \u201cThat experience tells us where the people\u2019s property is like\nto be invaded, neither religion nor loyalty is able to keep them within\nbounds if they find themselves in a condition to make any considerable\nopposition.\u201d And this brings to his mind the story related by Livy of\nthose resolute ambassadors of the Privernates, who, being reduced to such\nextremities that they were obliged to beg peace of the Roman Senate, yet,\nbeing asked what peace should the Romans expect from them, who had broken\nit so often, they boldly answered--which made the Senate accept their\nproposals--\u201cIf a good one, it shall be faithful and lasting; but if bad,\nit shall not hold very long. For think not,\u201d said they, \u201cthat any people,\nor even any man, will continue in that condition whereof they are weary\nany longer than of necessity they must.\u201d\n\nFourthly, it was notorious that from the moment Parliament was convened\nit had urged the greatest severities against the English Roman Catholics.\nThe king was compelled to revive the penalties of the worst days of\nEdward and Elizabeth against them. His own consort was scarce safe from\nthe violence of those hideous wretches who concealed the vilest crimes\nunder the garb of Puritan godliness. Readers even of such a common and\none-sided book as Forster\u2019s _Life of Sir John Eliot_ will be surprised\nto find the prominence and space the \u201cPopish\u201d resolutions and debates\noccupied in the sittings of Parliament. The popular leaders divided their\ntime nearly equally between the persecution of the Catholics and assaults\nupon the prerogative. The same severities were now threatened against the\nIrish Catholics. \u201cBoth Houses,\u201d says Castlehaven, \u201csolicited, by several\npetitions out of Ireland, to have those of that kingdom treated with the\nlike rigor, which, to a people so fond of their religion as the Irish,\nwas no small inducement to make them, while there was an opportunity\noffered, to stand upon their guard.\u201d\n\nFifthly, the precedent of the Scotch Rebellion, and its successful\nresults--pecuniarily, politically, and religiously--encouraged the\nIrish so much at that time that they offered it to Owen O\u2019Conally as\ntheir chief motive for rising in rebellion; \u201cwhich,\u201d says he (quoted by\nCastlehaven), \u201cthey engaged in to be rid of the tyrannical government\nthat was over them, and to imitate Scotland, who by that course had\nenlarged their privileges\u201d (O\u2019Conally\u2019s _Exam._, October 22, 1641;\nBorlace\u2019s _History of the Irish Rebellion_, p. 21).\n\nTo the same purpose Lord Castlehaven quotes Mr. Howell in his _Mercurius\nHibernicus_ in the year 1643; \u201cwhose words, because an impartial author\nand a known Protestant, I will here transcribe in confirmation of what I\nhave said and for the reader\u2019s further satisfaction\u201d:\n\n    \u201cMoreover,\u201d says Mr. Howell, \u201cthey [the Irish] entered into\n    consideration that they had sundry grievances and grounds of\n    complaint, both touching their estates and consciences, which\n    they pretended to be far greater than those of the Scots. For\n    they fell to think that if the Scot was suffered to introduce\n    a new religion, it was reason they should not be punished in\n    the exercise of their old, which they glory never to have\n    altered; and for temporal matters, wherein the Scot had no\n    grievance at all to speak of, the new plantations which had\n    been lately afoot to be made in Connaught and other places; the\n    concealed lands and defective titles which were daily found\n    out; the new customs which were enforced; and the incapacity\n    they had to any preferment or office in church or state, with\n    other things, they considered to be grievances of a far greater\n    nature, and that deserved redress much more than any the Scot\n    had. To this end they sent over commissioners to attend this\n    Parliament in England with certain propositions; but they were\n    dismissed hence with a short and unsavory answer, which bred\n    worse blood in the nation than was formerly gathered. And this,\n    with that leading case of the Scot, may be said to be the first\n    incitements that made them rise.\u2026 Lastly, that army of 8,000\n    men which the Earl of Strafford had raised to be transported\n    into England for suppressing the Scot, being by the advice of\n    our Parliament here disbanded, the country was annoyed by some\n    of those straggling soldiers. Therefore the ambassadors from\n    Spain having propounded to have some numbers of those disbanded\n    soldiers for the service of their master, his majesty, by the\n    mature advice of his Privy Council, to occur the mischiefs\n    that might arise to his kingdom of Ireland from those loose\n    cashiered soldiers, yielded to the ambassadors\u2019 motion. But as\n    they were in the height of that work (providing transports),\n    there was a sudden stop made of those promised troops; and this\n    was the last, though not the least, fatal cause of that horrid\n    insurrection.\n\n    \u201cOut of these premises it is easy for any common understanding,\n    not transported with passion or private interest, to draw\n    this conclusion: That they who complied with the Scot in his\n    insurrection; they who dismissed the Irish commissioners with\n    such a short, impolitic answer; they who took off the Earl of\n    Strafford\u2019s head, and afterwards delayed the despatching of the\n    Earl of Leicester; they who hindered those disbanded troops in\n    Ireland to go for Spain, may be justly said to have been the\n    true causes of the late insurrection of the Irish.\n\n\u201cThus,\u201d continues Castlehaven, \u201cconcludes this learned and ingenious\ngentleman, who, as being then his majesty\u2019s historiographer, was as\nlikely as any man to know the transactions of those times, and, as an\nEnglishman and a loyal Protestant, was beyond all exception of partiality\nor favor of the Papists of Ireland, and therefore could have no other\nreason but the love of truth and justice to give this account of the\nIrish Rebellion, or make the Scotch and their wicked brethren in the\nParliament of England the main occasion of that horrid insurrection.\u201d\n\nAs for the \u201cmassacre,\u201d so called, that ensued, Lord Castlehaven speaks\nof it with the abhorrence it deserves. But this very term \u201cmassacre\u201d is\na misnomer plausibly affixed to the uprising by English ingenuity. In a\ncountry such as Ireland then was--in which, though nominally conquered,\nfew English lived outside the walled towns--an intermittent state of\nwar was chronic; and therefore there was none of that unpreparedness\nfor attack or absence of means of defence on the part of the English\nsettlers which, in other well-known historical cases, has rightfully\ngiven the name of \u201cmassacre\u201d to a premeditated murderous attack upon\ndefenceless and surprised victims. To hold the English as such will be\nregarded with contemptuous ridicule by every one acquainted with the\nsystem of English and Scotch colonization in Ireland in that age. The\ntruth is, the cruelties on both sides were very bloody, \u201cand though\nsome,\u201d says Lord Castlehaven, \u201cwill throw all upon the Irish, yet \u2019tis\nwell known who they were that used to give orders to their parties sent\ninto the enemies\u2019 quarters to spare neither man, woman, nor child.\u201d\nAnd as to the preposterous muster-rolls of Sir John Temple--from whom\nthe subsequent scribblers borrowed all their catalogues--giving _fifty\nthousand (!)_ British natives as the number killed, Lord Castlehaven\u2019s\ntestimony is to the effect that there was not one-tenth--or scarcely\nfive thousand--of that number of British natives then living in Ireland\noutside of the cities and walled towns where no \u201cmassacre\u201d was committed.\nLord Castlehaven also shows that there were not 50,000 persons to be\nfound even in Temple\u2019s catalogue, although it was then a matter of common\nnotoriety that he repeats the same people and the same circumstances\ntwice or thrice, and mentions hundreds as then murdered who lived many\nyears afterwards. Some of Temple\u2019s, not the Irish, victims were alive\nwhen Castlehaven wrote.\n\nBut the true test of the character of this insurrection is to be found,\nnot in the exaggerated calumnies of English libellers writing after the\nevent, but in the testimony of the English settlers themselves when in a\nposition where lies would have been of no avail. We will therefore give\nhere, though somewhat out of the course of our narrative, an incident\nrelated by Castlehaven to that effect.\n\nShortly after he had been appointed General of the Horse under Preston,\nCommander-in-Chief of the Confederate Catholics in Leinster, that general\ntook, among other places, Birr, in King\u2019s County. Here Castlehaven\nhad the good fortune, as he says, to begin his command with an act of\ncharity. For, going to see this garrison before it marched out, he came\ninto a large room where he found many people of quality, both men and\nwomen. They no sooner saw him but, with tears in their eyes, they fell\non their knees, desiring him to save their lives. \u201cI was astonished,\u201d\nsays Castlehaven, \u201cat their posture and petition, and, having made them\nrise, asked what the matter was? They answered that from the first day of\nthe war there had been continued action and bloodshed between them and\ntheir Irish neighbors, and little quarter on either side; and therefore,\nunderstanding that I was an Englishman, begged I would take them into\nmy protection.\u201d It is enough to say that Lord Castlehaven, with some\ndifficulty, and by personally taking command of a strong convoy, obtained\nfor them the protection they prayed for from the exasperated and outraged\npopulation around them. But what we wish to point out is this: that here\nare those victims of Sir John Temple\u2019s \u201cmassacre\u201d--not the garrison of\nthe fort, observe, but the English settlers driven in by the approach of\nPreston\u2019s army, after terrorizing the country for months--now, with the\nfear of death before them, confessing on their knees that from the first\nday of the war they had arms in their hands, and that little quarter was\ngiven on either side!\n\nHow well the English were able to take care of themselves at this time,\nand what _their_ \u201cmassacres\u201d were like, are shown by the following\nextract from a letter of Colonel the Hon. Mervin Touchett to his brother,\nLord Castlehaven. Col. Touchett is describing a raid made by Sir Arthur\nLoffens, Governor of Naas, with a party of horse and dragoons, killing\nsuch of the Irish as they met, to punish an attack upon an English party\na few days before: \u201cBut the most considerable slaughter was in a great\nstrength of furze, scattered on a hill, where the people of several\nvillages (taking the alarm) had sheltered themselves. Now, Sir Arthur,\nhaving invested the hill, set the furze on fire on all sides, where the\npeople, being a considerable number, were all burned or killed, men,\nwomen, and children. I saw the bodies and the furze still burning.\u201d\n\nWe remember the horror-stricken denunciations of the English press some\nyears ago when it was stated, without much authentication, that some of\nthe French commanders in the Algerine campaigns had smoked some Arabs to\ndeath in caves. But it would seem from Col. Touchett\u2019s narrative that\nthe English troopers would have been able to give their French comrades\nlessons in the culinary art of war some centuries ago. A grilled Irishman\nis surely as savory an object for the contemplation of humanity as a\nsmoked Arab!\n\nBut whatever the atrocities on the English side, we will not say that\nthe cruelties committed by the Irish were not deserving of man\u2019s\nreprobation and God\u2019s anger. Only this is to be observed: that whereas\nthe \u201cmassacres\u201d by the Irish were confined to the rabble and Strafford\u2019s\ndisbanded soldiers, those committed by the English side were shared in,\nas the narratives of the day show, by the persons highest in position\nand authority. They made part of the English system of government of\nthat day. On the other hand, the leading men of the Irish Catholic body\nnot only endeavored to stay those murders, but sought to induce the\ngovernment to bring the authors of them on both sides to punishment. But\nin vain! On the 17th of March, 1642, Viscount Gormanstown and Sir Robert\nTalbot, on behalf of the nobility and gentry of the nation, presented a\nremonstrance, praying \u201cthat the murders on both sides committed should\nbe strictly examined, and the authors of them punished according to\nthe utmost severity of the law.\u201d Which proposal, Castlehaven shrewdly\nremarks, would never have been rejected by their adversaries, \u201cbut that\nthey were conscious of being deeper in the mire than they would have the\nworld believe.\u201d\n\nSo far the \u201cmassacre\u201d and first uprising.\n\nNow, as to the inception of the war of the Confederate Catholics, and its\nobjects, Lord Castlehaven\u2019s narrative is equally convincing and clear.\n\nParliament met in the Castle of Dublin, Nov. 16, 1641. The Rebellion\nwas laid before both Houses by the lords-justices, Sir William Parsons\nand Sir John Borlace. Concurrent resolutions were adopted, without a\ndissenting voice, by the two Houses, declaring their abhorrence of\nthe Rebellion, and pledging their lives and fortunes to suppress it.\nCastlehaven had a seat in the Irish House of Lords as an Irish peer,\nand being then in Ireland, as before related, took his seat at the\nmeeting of Parliament. Besides Castlehaven, most of the leaders of\nthe war that ensued were members of the Irish House of Lords. These\nCatholic peers were not less earnest than the rest in their unanimous\nintention to put down the Rebellion. Both Houses thereupon began to\ndeliberate upon the most effectual means for its suppression. \u201cBut this\nway of proceeding,\u201d says Castlehaven, \u201cdid not, it seems, square with\nthe lords-justices\u2019 designs, who were often heard to say that \u2018the\nmore were in rebellion, the more lands should be forfeit to them.\u2019\u201d\nTherefore, in the midst of the deliberations of Parliament on the\nsubject, a prorogation was determined on. The lords, understanding this,\nsent Castlehaven and Viscount Castelloe to join a deputation from the\ncommons to the lords-justices, praying them not to prorogue, at least\ntill the rebels--then few in number--were reduced to obedience. But the\naddress was slighted, and Parliament prorogued the next day, to the great\nsurprise of both Houses and the \u201cgeneral dislike,\u201d says Castlehaven, \u201cof\nall honest and knowing men.\u201d\n\nThe result was, as the lords-justices no doubt intended, that the\nrebels were greatly encouraged, and at once began to show themselves in\nquarters hitherto peaceful. The members of Parliament retired to their\ncountry-houses in much anxiety after the prorogation. Lord Castlehaven\nwent to his seat at Maddingstown. There he received a letter, signed by\nthe Viscounts of Gormanstown and Netterville, and by the Barons of Slane,\nLowth, and Dunsany, containing an enclosure to the lords-justices which\nthose noblemen desired him to forward to them, and, if possible, obtain\nan answer. This letter to the lords-justices, Castlehaven says, was very\nhumble and submissive, asking only permission to send their petitions\ninto England to represent their grievances to the king. The only reply\nof the lords-justices was a warning to Castlehaven to receive no more\nletters from them.\n\nMeanwhile, parties were sent out from Dublin and the various garrisons\nthroughout the kingdom to \u201ckill and destroy the rebels.\u201d But those\nparties took little pains to distinguish rebels from loyal subjects,\nprovided they were only Catholics, killing promiscuously men, women, and\nchildren. Reprisals followed on the part of the rebels. The nobility and\ngentry were between two fires. A contribution was levied upon them by the\nrebels, after the manner of the Scots in the North of England in 1640.\nBut although to pay that contribution in England passed without reproach,\nin Ireland it was denounced by the lords-justices as treason. The English\ntroopers insulted and openly threatened the most distinguished Irish\nfamilies as favorers of the Rebellion. \u201cThis,\u201d says Castlehaven, \u201cand\nthe sight of their tenants, the harmless country people, without respect\nto age or sex, thus barbarously murdered, made the Catholic nobility and\ngentry at last resolved to stand upon their guard.\u201d Nevertheless, before\nopenly raising the standard of revolt against the Irish government,\nwhich refused to protect them, they made several efforts to get their\npetitions before Charles I. Sir John Read, a Scotchman, then going to\nEngland, undertook to forward petitions to the king; but, being arrested\non suspicion at Drogheda, was taken to Dublin, and there put upon the\nrack by the lords-justices to endeavor to wring from him a confession of\nCharles I.\u2019s complicity in the Rebellion. This Col. Mervin Touchett heard\nfrom Sir John Read himself as he was brought out of the room where he was\nracked. But that unfortunate monarch knew not how to choose his friends\nor to be faithful to them when he found them. He referred the whole\nconduct of Irish affairs to the English Parliament, thus increasing\nthe discontent to the last pitch by making it plain to the whole Irish\npeople that he abandoned the duty of protecting them, and had handed them\nover to the mercy of their worst enemies--the English Parliament. That\nParliament at once passed a succession of wild votes and ordinances,\nindicating their intention of stopping short at nothing less than utter\nextirpation of the native race. Dec. 8, 1641, they declared they would\nnever give consent to any toleration of the Popish religion in Ireland.\nIn February following, when few of any estate were as yet engaged in\nthe Rebellion, they passed an act assigning two million five hundred\nthousand acres of cultivated land, besides immense tracts of bogs, woods,\nand mountains, to English and Scotch adventurers for a small proportion\nof money on the grant. This money, the act stated, was to go to the\nreduction of the rebels; but, with a fine irony of providence upon the\nking\u2019s weak compliance, every penny of it was afterwards used to raise\narmies by the English rebels against him. \u201cBut the greatest discontent\nof all,\u201d says Castlehaven, \u201cwas about the lords-justices proroguing\nthe Parliament--the only way the nation had to express its loyalty and\nprevent their being misrepresented to their sovereign, which, had it\nbeen permitted to sit for any reasonable time, would in all likelihood,\nwithout any great charge or trouble, have brought the rebels to justice.\u201d\n\nThus all hopes of redress or safety being at an end--a villanous\ngovernment in Dublin intent only upon confiscation, a furious Parliament\nin London breathing vengeance against the whole Irish race, and a king\nso embroiled in his English quarrels that he could do nothing to help\nhis Irish subjects, even had he wished it--what was left those loyal,\ngallant, and devoted men but to draw the sword for their own safety?\nThe Rebellion by degrees spread over the whole kingdom. \u201cAnd now,\u201d\nsays Castlehaven, \u201cthere\u2019s no more looking back; for all were in arms\nand full of indignation.\u201d A council of the leading Catholic nobles,\nmilitary officers, and gentry met at Kilkenny, and formed themselves\ninto an association under the title of the Confederate Catholics of\nIreland. Four generals were appointed for the respective provinces of the\nkingdom--Preston for Leinster, Barry for Munster, Owen Roe O\u2019Neale for\nUlster, and Burke for Connaught. Thus war was declared.\n\nWhen the Rebellion first broke out in the North, Lord Castlehaven\nhad immediately repaired to Dublin and offered his services to the\nlords-justices. They were declined with the reply that \u201chis religion\nwas an obstacle.\u201d After the prorogation of Parliament, as we have seen,\nhe retired to his house in the country. Then, coming again to Dublin to\nmeet a charge of corresponding with the rebels which had been brought\nagainst him, he was arrested by order of the lords-justices, and, after\ntwenty weeks of imprisonment in the sheriff\u2019s house, was committed to the\nCastle. \u201cThis startled me a little,\u201d says Castlehaven--as it well might\ndo; for the state prisoner\u2019s exit from the Castle in Dublin in those days\nwas usually made in the same way as from the Tower in London, namely, by\nthe block--\u201cand brought into my thoughts the proceedings against the Earl\nof Strafford, who, confiding in his own innocence, was voted out of his\nlife by an unprecedented bill of attainder.\u201d Therefore, hearing nothing\nwhile in prison but rejoicings at the king\u2019s misfortunes, who at last\nhad been forced to take up arms by the English rebels, and knowing the\nlords-justices to be of the Parliament faction, and the lord-lieutenant,\nthe Marquis of Ormond, being desperately sick of a fever, not without\nsuspicion of poison, and his petition to be sent to England, to be tried\nthere by his peers, being refused, he determined to make his escape,\nshrewdly concluding, as he says, that \u201cinnocence was a scurvy plea in an\nangry time.\u201d\n\nArriving at Kilkenny, he joined the confederacy, as has been related.\n\nFrom this time the war of the Confederate Catholics was carried on with\nvarying success until the cessation of 1646, and then until the peace of\n1648, when the Confederates united, but too late, with the Marquis of\nOrmond to stop the march of Cromwell.\n\n\nA SWEET SINGER: ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTER.\n\n    She sang of Love--the love whose fires\n      Burn with a pure and gentle flame,\n    No passion lights of wild desires\n      Red with the lurid glow of shame.\n\n    She sang of angels, and their wings\n      Seemed rustling through each soft refrain;\n    Gladness and sorrow, kindred things\n      She wove in many a tender strain.\n\n    She sang of Heaven and of God,\n      Of Bethlehem\u2019s star and Calvary\u2019s way,\n    Gethsemane--the bloody sod,\n      Death, darkness, resurrection-day.\n\n    She sang of Mary--Mother blest,\n      Her sweetest carols were of thee!\n    Close folded to thy loving breast\n      How fair her home in heaven must be!\n\n\nTHE COLPORTEURS OF BONN.\n\nI was very stupid in my youth, and am still far from being sharp. I could\nnot master knotty questions like other boys; so this natural deficiency\nhad to be supplemented by some plan that would facilitate the acquisition\nof knowledge. The advantage to be derived from a garrulous preceptor,\nwhose mind was stored with all sorts of learning without dogmatism or\nhard formularies, were fully appreciated by my parents. John O\u2019Neil was\na very old man when I was a boy, and he was just the person qualified\nto impart an astonishing quantity of all sorts of facts, and perhaps\nfancies. I hold him in affectionate remembrance though he be dead over\ntwenty-five years, and rests near the remains of his favorite hero,\nO\u2019Connell, in Glasnevin Cemetery. When he became the chief architect of\nmy intellectual structure, I thought him the most learned man in the\nworld. On account of my dulness, he adopted the method of sermonizing\nto me instead of giving me unintelligible lessons to be learned out of\nbooks. I took a great fancy to him, because I found him exceedingly\ninteresting, and he evinced a strong liking for me because I was docile.\nWe became inseparable companions, notwithstanding the great discrepancy\nin our years. His tall, erect, lank figure and lantern jaw were to me the\nphysiological signs of profundity, firmness, and power, and his white\nhead was the symbol of wisdom. Our tastes--well, I had no tastes save\nsuch as he chose to awaken in me, and hence there came to be very soon\na great similitude in our respective inclinations. I was like a ball of\nwax, a sheet of paper, or any other original impressionable thing you\nmay name, in his hands for ten years, after which very probably I began\nto harden, though I was not conscious of the process. However, the large\nfund of knowledge that he imparted to me crystallized, as it were, and\nbecame fixed in my possession as firmly as if it had been elaborately\nachieved by a severe mental training. After I went to college he was\nstill my friend, and rejoiced in my subsequent successes, and followed me\nwith a jealous eye and a sort of parental anxiety in my foreign travels,\nand even in death he did not forget me, for he made me the custodian of\nhis great heaps of literary productions, all in manuscript, embracing\nsketches, diaries, notes of travel, learned fragments on scientific\nand scholastic topics, essays, tales, letters, the beginnings and the\nendings and the middles of books on history, politics, and polemics,\npieces of pamphlets and speeches, with a miscellaneous lot of poetry in\nall measures. He was a great, good man, who never had what is called\nan aim in life, but he certainly had an aim _after_ life; and yet no\none could esteem the importance of this pilgrimage more than he did. He\nwould frequently boast of being heterodox on that point. \u201cYou will hear,\u201d\nhe would remark, \u201cpeople depreciating this life as a matter of little\nconcern. Don\u2019t allow their sophistry to have much weight with you. The\nprevalent opinions which are flippantly spoken thereon will not stand the\ntest of sound Christian reasoning. That part of human existence which\nfinds its scene and scope of exertion in this life is filled with eternal\npotentialities. You have heard it said that man wants but little here\nbelow. Where else does he want it? Here is where he wants everything.\nThen do not hesitate to ask, but be careful not to ask amiss. When the\nbattle is over, it will be too late to make requisitions for auxiliaries.\nIf you conquer, assistance will not be wanted; if you are defeated,\nassistance cannot reach you. The fight cannot be renewed; the victory or\ndefeat will be final. This life is immense. You cannot think too much of\nit, cannot estimate it too highly. A minute has almost an infinite value.\nMan wants much here, and wants it all the time.\u201d I thought his language\nat that time fantastical; now I regard it as profound. From a survey\nof his own aimless career, it is evident he did not reduce the good of\nearthly existence of which he spoke to any sort of money value. Those\nelements and forces of life to which he attached such deep significance\nand importance could not have their equivalent in currency, nor in\ncomforts, nor in real estate, nor even in fame. My old preceptor had\nspent most of his youth in travelling, and the picturesque meanderings\nof the Rhine furnished subjects for many of his later recollections. I\nrecall now with a melancholy regret the many pleasant evenings I enjoyed\nlistening to his narratives of travel on that historic river, and in\nimagination sat with him on the Drachenfels\u2019 crest, looking down upon\nscenes made memorable by the lives and struggles of countless heroes\nand the crowds of humanity that came and went through the course of a\nhundred generations--some leaving their mark, and others erasing it\nagain; some leaving a smile behind them on the face of the country, and\nothers a scar. He loved to talk about the beautiful city of Bonn, where\nhe had spent some years, it being the most attractive place, he said,\nfrom Strasbourg to the sea--for learning was cheap there, and so were\nvictuals--the only things he found indispensable to a happy life. He\nwould glide into a monologue of dramatic glow and fervor in reciting how\nhe procured access to the extensive library of its new university, and,\ncrawling up a step-ladder, would perch himself on top like a Hun, who,\nafter a sleep of a thousand years, had resurrected himself, gathered his\nbones from the plains of Chalons, and having procured a second-hand suit\nof modern clothes from a Jew in Cologne, traced with eager avidity the\nvicissitudes of war and empire since the days of Attila. It was there, no\ndoubt, he discovered the materials of this curious paper, which I found\namong his literary remains. Whether he gathered the materials himself,\nor merely transcribed the work of some previous writer, I am unable to\ndetermine. Without laying any claim to critical acumen, I must confess\nit appears to me to be a meritorious piece, and I picked it out, because\nI thought it unique and brief, for submission to the more extensive\nexperience and more impartial judgment of THE CATHOLIC WORLD\u2019S readers.\nHaving entire control of these productions of my friend and preceptor, I\ntook the liberty of substituting modern phraseology for what was antique,\nand of putting the sketch in such style that the most superficial reader\nwill have no difficulty in running it over. Objection may be raised to\nthe title on the score of fitness. I did not feel authorized to change\nit, believing the one chosen by the judgment of my old friend as suitable\nas any I could substitute.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nIn the year 1250 the mind of man was as restless and impatient of\nrestraint as now, and some people in Bonn, under a quiet exterior,\nnursed in their bosoms latent volcanoes of passion, and indulged the\nwaywardness of rebellious fancy to a degree that would have proved\ncalamitous to the placid flow of life and thought could instrumentality\nfor action have been found. There is indubitable proof that the principle\nof the Reformation, which three hundred years later burst through the\nenvironment of dogma and spread like a flood of lava over Europe,\nexisted actively in Bonn in the year named, and would have arrived at\nmature strength if nature had not interposed an impassable barrier to\nthe proceeding. It is hard to rebel against nature, and it is madness\nto expect success in such a revolt. Fourteen men, whose names have come\ndown to us, gave body and tone, and a not very clearly defined purpose,\nto this untimely uprising against the inevitable in Bonn. How many others\nwere in sympathy or in active affiliation with them is not shown. Those\nfourteen were bold spirits, who labored under the misfortune of having\ncome into the world three or four centuries too soon. They were great\nmen out of place. There is an element of rebellion in great spirits\nwhich only finds its proper antidote in the stronger and more harmonious\nprinciple of obedience. Obedience is the first condition of creatures.\nThose fourteen grew weary of listening to the Gospel preached every\nSunday from the pulpit of S. Remigius, when they attended Mass with the\nthousands of their townsmen. The Scriptures, both New and Old, were given\nout in small doses, with an abundant mixture of explanation and homily\nand salutary exhortation. Their appetites craved a larger supply of\nScripture, and indeed some of them were so unreasonable as to desire the\nreading of the whole book, from Genesis to Revelations, at one service.\n\u201cLet us,\u201d said Giestfacher, \u201chave it all. No one is authorized to give a\nselection from the Bible and hold back the rest. It is our feast, and we\nhave a right to the full enjoyment thereof.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell,\u201d said Heuck, his neighbor, to whom he addressed the remonstrance;\n\u201cgo to the scrivener\u2019s and purchase a copy and send your ass to carry\nit home. Our friend Schwartz finished a fine one last week. It can be\nhad for sixteen hundred dollars. When you have it safe at home, employ\na reader, who will be able to mouth it all off for you in fifty hours,\nallowing a few intervals for refreshment, but none for sleep.\u201d And Heuck\nlaughed, or rather sneered, at Giestfacher as he walked away.\n\nGiestfacher was a reformer, however, and was not to be put down in\nthat frivolous manner. He had been a student himself with the view of\nentering the ministry, but, being maliciously charged with certain grave\nirregularities, his prospects in that direction were seriously clouded,\nand in a moment of grand though passionate self-assertion he threw up\nhis expectations and abandoned the idea of entering the church, but\ninstead took to the world. He was a reformer from his infancy, and\ncontinually quarrelled with his family about the humdrum state of things\nat home; was at enmity with the system of municipal government at Bonn;\nand held very animated controversies with the physicians of the place\non the system of therapeutics then pursued, insisting strongly that all\ndiseases arose from bad blood, and that a vivisection with warm wine\nwould prove a remedy for everything. He lacked professional skill to\nattempt an experiment in the medical reforms he advocated; besides, that\ndepartment would not admit of bungling with impunity. For municipal\nreforms he failed in power, and the reward in fame or popular applause\nthat might follow successful operations in that limited sphere of action\nwas not deemed equivalent to the labor. But in the field of religion\nthere was ample room for all sorts of tentative processes without danger;\nand, in addition to security, notoriety might be obtained by being\nsimply _outr\u00e9_. He had settled upon religious reform, and his enthusiasm\nnullified the cautionary suggestions of his reason, and reduced mountains\nof difficulty to the insignificant magnitude of molehills; even Heuck\ncould be induced to adopt his views by cogent reasoning and much\npersuasion. Enthusiasm is allied to madness--a splendid help, but a\ndangerous guide.\n\nGiestfacher used his tongue, and in the course of a year had made twelve\nor fourteen proselytes. Those who cannot enjoy the monotony of life and\nthe spells of _ennui_ that attack the best-regulated temperaments, fly\nto novelty for relief. The fearful prospect of an unknown and nameless\ngrave and an oblivious future drives many restless spirits into\nexperiments in morals and in politics as well as in natural philosophy,\nin the vain hope of rescuing their names from the \u201cgulf of nothingness\u201d\nthat awaits mediocrity. The new reformers, zealous men and bold, met\nin Giestfacher\u2019s house on Corpus Christi in 1251, the minutes of which\nmeeting are still extant; and from that record I learn there were present\nStein the wheelwright, Lullman the baker, Schwartz the scrivener, Heuck\nthe armorer, Giestfacher the cloth merchant, Braunn, another scrivener,\nHartzwein the vintner, Blum the advocate, Werner, another scrivener,\nReudlehuber, another scrivener, Andersen, a stationer, Esch the\narchitect, Dusch the monk, discarded by his brethren for violations of\ndiscipline, and Wagner the potter. Blum was appointed to take an account\nof the proceedings, and Giestfacher was made president of the society.\n\n\u201cWe are all agreed,\u201d said Giestfacher, \u201cthat the Scriptures ought to be\ngiven to the people. From these divine writings we learn a time shall\ncome when wars shall cease, and the Alemanni and the Frank and the Tartar\nmay eat from the same plate and drink out of the same cup in peace and\nfraternity, and wear cloth caps instead of brass helmets, and plough the\nfields with their spears instead of letting daylight through each other\ntherewith, and the shepherds shall tend their flocks with a crook and\nnot with a bow to keep off the enemy. How can that time come unless the\npeople be made acquainted with those promises? I believe we, who, like\nthe apostles, number fourteen, are divinely commissioned to change things\nfor the better, and initiate the great movements which will bring about\nthe millennium. Let us rise up to the dignity of our position. Let us\nprove equal to the inspiration of the occasion. We are called together by\nheaven for a new purpose. The time is approaching when universal light\nwill dispel the gloom, and peace succeed to all disturbance. Let us give\nthe Scriptures to the people. They are the words of God, that carry\nhealing on their wings. They are the dove that was sent out from the ark.\nThey are the pillar of light in the desert. They are the sword of Joshua,\nthe sling of David, the rod of Moses. Let us fourteen give them to the\npeople, and start out anew, like the apostles from Jerusalem, to overturn\nthe idols of the times and emancipate the nations. We have piled up heaps\nof stones in every town and monuments of brass, and still men are not\nchanged. We see them still lying, warring, hoarding riches, and making\ngods of their bellies--all of which is condemned by the word of God. What\nwill change all this? I say, let the piles of stone and the monuments of\nbrass slide, and give the Scriptures a chance. Let us give them to the\npeople, and the reign of brotherhood and peace will commence, wars shall\ncease, nation will no longer rise up against nation, rebellion will erect\nits horrid front no more. Men will cease hoarding riches and oppressing\nthe poor. There will be no more robbing rings in corporate towns, and men\nin power will not blacken their character and imperil the safety of the\nstate by nepotism. The whole world will become pure. No scandals will\narise in the church, and there will be no blasphemy or false swearing,\nand Christian brethren shall not conspire for each other\u2019s ruin.\u201d\n\n\u201cWe see,\u201d remarked Heuck, \u201cthat those who have the Scriptures are no\nbetter than other people. They too are given to lying, hoarding riches,\nwarring one against another, and making gods of their bellies. How is\nthat?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d said Blum, \u201cI know three scriveners of this town who boast of\nhaving transcribed twenty Bibles each, and they get drunk thrice a week\nand quarrel with their wives; and there\u2019s Giebricht, the one-legged\nsoldier, who can repeat the Scriptures until you sleep listening to\nhim, says he killed nine men in battle and wounded twenty others. The\nScriptures did not make him very peaceful. The loss of a leg had a more\nquieting effect on him than all his memorizing of the sacred books.\u201d\n\n\u201cWe did not get together,\u201d said Werner, \u201cto discuss that phase of the\nsubject. It was well understood, and thereunto agreed a month ago, that\nthe spread of the Scriptures was desirable; and to this end we met, that\nmeans wise and effective may be devised whereby we can supply every one\nwith the word of God, that all may search therein for the correct and\napproved way of salvation.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo be it,\u201d said Dusch the monk.\n\n\u201cHear, hear!\u201d said Schwartz.\n\n\u201cLet us agree like brethren,\u201d said Braunn.\n\n\u201cWe are subject to one spirit,\u201d said Hartzwein the vintner, \u201cand all\nmoved by the same inspiration. Discord is unseemly. We must not dispute\non the subject of drunkenness. Let us have the mature views of Brother\nGiestfacher, and his plans. The end is already clear if the means be of\napproved piety and really orthodox. In addition to the Scriptures, I\nwould rejoice very much to see prayer more generally practised. We ought\nto do nothing without prayer. Let us first of all consult the Lord. What\nsays Brother Blum?\u201d\n\nBlum rose and said it was a purely business meeting. He had no doubt\nit ought to have been opened with prayer. It was an old and salutary\npractice that came down from the days of the apostles, and Paul\nrecommended it. But as they were now in the midst of business, he thought\nit would be as wise and as conformable with ancient Christian and saintly\npractice to go on with their work, and rest satisfied with mental\nejaculation, as to inaugurate a formal prayer-meeting.\n\nEsch thought differently; he held that prayer was always in season.\n\nReudlehuber meekly said that the Scriptures showed there was a time for\neverything, whence it was plain that prayer might be out of place as well\nas penitential tears on some occasions. It would not look well for a man\nto rise up in the midst of a marriage feast and, beating his breast, cry\nout _Mea culpa_.\n\n\u201cWe have too many prayers in the church,\u201d said Giestfacher, \u201cand not\nenough of Scripture; that is the trouble with us. Brethren must rise\nabove the weaknesses of the mere pietist. Moses was no pietist; he was a\ngreat big, leonine character. We must be broad and liberal in our views;\nnot given to fault-finding nor complaining. Pray whenever you feel like\nit, and drink when you have a mind to. Noah got drunk. I\u2019d rather be\nthe prodigal son, and indulge in a hearty natural appetite for awhile,\nthan be his cautious, speculating, avaricious brother, who had not soul\nenough most likely to treat his acquaintances to a pint of wine once in\nhis lifetime. Great men get tipsy. Great nations are bibulous. We are\nnot here to make war on those who drink wine and cultivate the grape, nor\nare we authorized in making war on weavers because Dives was damned for\nwearing fine linen. It is our mission to spread the Scriptures. The world\nwants light. He is a benefactor of mankind who puts two rays where there\nwas only one before.\u201d\n\n\u201cLet us hear your plans, Brother Giestfacher,\u201d cried out a number of\nvoices simultaneously.\n\nIn response, Brother Giestfacher stated that there were no plans\nnecessary. All that was to be done was to circulate the Scriptures. Let\nus get one hundred thousand sheets of vellum to begin with, and set a\nhundred scriveners to work transcribing copies of the Bible, and then\ndistribute these copies among the people.\n\nThe plan was plain and simple and magnificent, Braunn thought, but there\nwere not ten thousand sheets of vellum in the town nor in the whole\ndistrict, and much of that would be required for civil uses; besides, the\nnumber of sheep in the neighborhood had been so reduced by the recent war\nthat vellum would be scarce and costly for ten years to come.\n\nWerner lamented the irremediable condition of the world when the free\ncirculation of the word of God depended on the number of sheep, and the\nnumber of sheep was regulated by war, and war by the ambition, jealousy,\nor pride of princes.\n\n\u201cIt is painfully true,\u201d said Heuck, \u201cthat the world stands in sad need\nof reform, if souls are to be rescued from their spiritual perils only\nby the means proposed in the magnificent sheep-skin scheme of Brother\nGiestfacher.\u201d It was horrible to think that the immortal part of man was\ndoomed to perish, to be snuffed out, as it were, in eternal darkness,\nbecause soldiers had an unholy appetite for mutton.\n\nBraunn said the work could be started on three or four thousand hides,\nand ere they were used up a new supply might arrive from some unexpected\nquarter.\n\nEsch said that they ought to have faith; the Hand that fed the patriarch\nin the desert would provide vellum if he was prayerfully besought for\nassistance. _He_ would be willing to commence on one sheet, feeling\nconvinced there would be more than enough in the end.\n\nBlum did not take altogether so sanguine a view of things as Brother\nEsch. He was especially dubious about that vellum supply; not that he\nquestioned the power of Providence at all, but it struck him that it\nwould be just as well and as easy for the society to prayerfully ask for\nan ample supply of ready-made Bibles as to expect a miracle in prepared\nsheep-skin; and he was still further persuaded that if the books were\nabsolutely necessary to one\u2019s salvation, they would be miraculously\ngiven. But he did not put the movement on that ground. It is very easy\nfor men, and particularly idiotic men, to convince themselves that God\nwill answer all their whims and caprices by the performance of a miracle.\nWe are going upon the theory that the work is good, just as it is good to\nfeed the hungry and clothe the naked. We expect to find favor in heaven\nbecause we endeavor to do a work of charity according to our honest\nimpression.\n\n\u201cHow many persons,\u201d inquired Heuck, \u201cdo you propose to supply with\ncomplete copies of the Scriptures?\u201d\n\n\u201cEvery one in the district,\u201d replied Giestfacher.\n\n\u201cBrother Dusch,\u201d continued Heuck, \u201chow many heads of families are there\nin the district? Your abbot had the census taken a few month\u2019s ago, while\nyou were yet in grace and favor at the monastery.\u201d\n\nBrother Dusch said he heard there were twenty-two thousand from the\nDrachenfels to within six miles of Cologne, but all of them could not\nread.\n\n\u201cWe will send out,\u201d said Giestfacher enthusiastically, \u201can army of\ncolporteurs, who will distribute and read at the same time.\u201d\n\n\u201cI perceive,\u201d said Blum, \u201cthat this discussion will never stop. New\navenues of thought and new mountains of objection are coming to view\nat every advance in the debate. Let us do something first, and talk\nafterwards. To supply twenty-two thousand persons with expensive volumes\nwill require considerably more than mere resolves and enthusiasm. I\npropose that we buy up all the vellum in the city to-day, and that we\nall go security for the payment. I propose also that we employ Brothers\nBraunn, Schwartz, Werner, and Reudlehuber to commence transcribing, and\nthat we all go security for their pay. Unless we begin somewhere, we can\nnever have anything done. What says Brother Giestfacher?\u201d\n\nGiestfacher said it did not become men of action, reformers who proposed\nto turn over the world and inaugurate a new era and a new life and a\nnew law, to stop at trifles or to consider petty difficulties. The\ndesign that had been developed at that meeting contemplated a sweeping\nchange. Instead of having a few books, here and there, at every church,\ncathedral, monastery, and market-place, learnedly and laboriously\nexpounded by saints of a thousand austerities and of penitential garb,\nevery house would be supplied, and there should be no more destitution in\nthe land. The prophecies and the gospels and the mysteries of revelation\nwould be on the lips of sucking babes, and the people who stood at the\nstreet-corners and at the marts of trade, the tiller of the soil, the\npedler, the sailor, the old soldier, and the liberated prisoner, together\nwith the man who sold fish and the woman who sold buttermilk, would\nstand up and preach the Gospel and display a mission, schoolboys would\ndiscuss the contents of that book freely, and even the inmates of lunatic\nasylums would expound it with luminous aptitude and startling fancy. The\nproposition of Brother Blum met his entire approval. He would pledge\neverything he had, and risk even life itself, to start the new principle,\nso that the world might bask in sunshine and not in shadow. It was about\ntime that men had their intellects brightened up some. Even in the days\nof the apostles those pious men did not do their whole duty. They labored\nwith much assiduity and conscientiousness, but they neglected to adopt\nmeasures looking to the spread of the Scriptures. He had no doubt but\nthey fell a long way short of their mission, and were now enduring the\npangs of a peck of purgatorial coal for their remissness. There were\ngood men who perhaps found heaven without interesting themselves in the\nmultiplication of copies of the Bible. They were not called to that work;\nbut what was to be thought of those who had the call, the power, the\nskill, and yet neglected to spread the word. He believed SS. Gregory\nNazianzen, Athanasius, Jerome, Chrysostom, Augustine, and others of those\nearly doctors of the church, had a fearful account to render for having\nneglected the Scriptures. S. Paul, too, was not free from censure. It was\ntrue he wrote a few things, but he took no thought of multiplying copies\nof his epistles.\n\n\u201cHow many copies,\u201d inquired Heuck, \u201cdo you think S. Paul ought to have\nwritten of his letters before you would consider him blameless?\u201d\n\n\u201cHe ought,\u201d said Giestfacher, \u201cto have written all the time instead of\nmaking tents. \u2018How many copies\u2019 is a professional question which I will\nleave the scriveners to answer. I may remark that it would evidently be\nunprofitable for us to enter on a minute and detailed discussion on that\npoint here. It is our duty to supplement the shortcomings of those early\nworkers in the field, and finish what they failed to accomplish. They\nwere bound to give the new principle a fair start. The plan suggested was\nthe best, simplest, and clearest, and he hoped every one of the brethren\nwould give it a hearty and cordial support.\u201d\n\nThe principle of communism, or the right of communities to govern\nthemselves in certain affairs and to carry on free trade with certain\nother communities, had been granted the previous century, and Bonn\nwas one of the towns that enjoyed the privilege; but the people still\nrespected religion and did no trafficking on holydays. Giestfacher could\nnot therefore purchase the vellum on Corpus Christi, but had to wait till\nnext day, at which time he could not conveniently find the other members\nof the new Bible society, and, fearing that news of their project would\nget abroad and raise the price of the article he wanted, he hastened to\nthe various places where it was kept for sale, and bought all of it up in\nthe course of two hours, paying his own money in part and giving his bond\nfor the balance. The parchment was delivered to the four scriveners, who\ngathered their families about them, and all the assistants (journeymen)\nthat could be found in the town, and proceeded with the transcribing of\nthe Bible. At the next meeting each scrivener reported that he had about\nhalf a book ready, that the work was going rapidly and smoothly forward,\nand that the scribes were enthusiastic at the prospect of brisk business\nand good pay. The report was deemed very encouraging. It went to show\nthat the society could have four Bibles every two weeks, or about one\nhundred a year, and that in the course of two hundred and twenty years\nevery head of a family in the district could be provided with a Bible of\nhis own. The scriveners stated, moreover, that they had neglected their\nprofane business, for which they could have got cash, to proceed in the\nsacred work, and as there were several people depending on them for means\nof living, a little money would be absolutely necessary with the grace of\nGod.\n\nGiestfacher also stated that he spent all the money he had in part\npayment for the parchment, and pledged his property for the balance. His\nbusiness was somewhat crippled already in consequence of the outlay,\nand he expected to have part of the burden assumed by every one of the\nsociety.\n\nWerner said he had fifteen transcribers working for him, and each one\nagreed to let one-third of the market value of his work remain in the\nhands of the society as a subscription to the good work, but the other\ntwo-thirds would have to be paid weekly, as they could not live without\nmeans. They were all poor, and depending solely on their skill in\ntranscribing for a living.\n\nThe debate was long, earnest, eloquent, and more or less pious.\n\nBlum made a motion that the bishop of the diocese and the Pope be made\nhonorary members of the society. Giestfacher opposed this with eloquent\nacrimony, saying it was a movement outside of all sorts of church\npatronage; that it was designed to supersede churches and preaching; for\nwhen every man had the Bible he would be a church unto himself, and would\nnot need any more teaching. He also had a resolution adopted pledging\neach and every member to constitute himself a colporteur of the Bible,\nand to read and peddle it in sun and rain; and it was finally settled\nthat a subscription should be taken up; that each member of the society\nbe constituted a collector, and proceed at once to every man who loved\nthe Lord and gloried in the Gospel to get his contribution.\n\nAt the next meeting the brethren were all present except Dusch, who was\nreported as an absconder with the funds he had collected, and was said to\nbe at that moment in Cologne, drunk perhaps. Four complete Bibles were\npresented as the result of two weeks\u2019 hard labor and pious effort and the\naggregate production of forty-five writers. The financial reports on the\nwhole were favorable; and the scriveners were provided with sufficient\nmeans and encouragement to begin another set of four Bibles. Brother\nGiestfacher was partially secured in his venture for the parchment,\nwhile it was said that the article had doubled in price during the past\nfortnight, and very little of it could be got from Cologne, as there was\na scarcity of it there also, coupled with an extraordinary demand. It\nwas also stated that the monks at the monastery had to erase the works\nof Virgil in order to find material for making a copy of the homilies\nof S. John Chrysostom which was wanted for the Bishop of Metz. In like\nmanner, it was decided to erase the histories of Labanius and Zozirnus,\nas being cheaper than procuring original parchment on which to transcribe\na fine Greek copy of the whole Bible, to take the place of one destroyed\nby the late war. The heavy purchase that Brother Giestfacher had made\ncreated a panic in the vellum market that was already felt in the heart\nof Burgundy. The scriveners\u2019 business had also experienced a revulsion.\nPeople of the world who wanted testamentary and legal documents, deeds,\ncontracts, and the like properly engrossed, were offering fabulous\nsums to have the work done, as most of the professionals of that class\nwere now engaged by the society, and had no time to do any other sort\nof writing. A debate sprung up as to the proper disposition to be made\nof the four Bibles on hand, and also as to the manner of beginning and\nconducting the distribution. In view of the demand for the written word,\nand of the scarcity of copies and the high price of parchment, it was\nsuggested by Heuck to sell them, and divide the proceeds among the poor\nand the cripples left after the late war. Five hundred dollars each could\nbe readily got for the books, he said, and it was extremely doubtful\nwhether those who would get them as gifts from the society would resist\nthe temptation of selling them to the first purchaser that came along.\nIn addition to this heavy reason in favor of his line of policy, Heuck\nsuggested the possibility of trouble arising when they should come to\ngrapple with the huge difficulties of actual distribution; to give one of\nthose volumes, he said, would be like giving an estate and making a man\nwealthy for life.\n\nGiestfacher said it would be impracticable to make any private\ndistribution among the destitute for some time. The guilds of coopers,\ntailors, shoemakers, armorers, fullers, tanners, masons, artificers,\nand others should be first supplied; and in addition to the Bible kept\nchained in the market-place for all who wished to read, he would have one\nplaced at the town-pump and one at the town-house, so that the thirsty\nmight also drink the waters of life, and those who were seeking justice\nat the court might ascertain the law of God before going in.\n\nBlum said another collection would have to be raised to erect a shed over\nthe Bibles that were proposed to be placed at the town-pump and at the\ntown-house and to pay for suitable chains and clasps to secure them from\nthe depredations of the pilfering.\n\nEsch was of opinion that another subscription could not be successfully\ntaken up until their work had produced manifest fruit for good. The\npeople have much faith, but when they find salt mixed with their drink\ninstead of honey, credulity is turned into disgust. A Bible chained to\nthe town-pump will be a sad realization of their extravagant hopes.\nEvery man who subscribed five dollars expects to get a book worth five\nhundred, an illuminated Bible fit for a cathedral church. He warned them\nthat they were getting into a labyrinth, and that they would have to\nresort to prayer yet to carry them through in safety. Werner thought it\nwould be wisest to pursue a quiescent policy for some time, and to forego\nthe indulgence of their anxious desire for palpable results until they\nshould be in a condition to make an impression. He advocated the wisdom\nof delay. They also serve, he said, who only stand and wait, and it might\nprove an unwise proceeding to come out with their public exhibition just\nthen. In a few months, when thirty or forty Bibles would be on hand, a\nlarger number than could be found in any library in the world, they might\nhope, by the show of so much labor, to create enthusiasm.\n\n\u201cBut still,\u201d urged Heuck, \u201cyou will have the difficulty to contend\nwith--who is to get them?\u201d\n\n\u201cThere will,\u201d remarked Blum, \u201cbe a greater difficulty to contend with\nabout that time: the settlement of obligations for parchment and the pay\nof the scriveners who are employed in transcribing. Our means at present,\neven if we pay the scriveners but one-third their wages, will not suffice\nto bring out twenty volumes. So we are just in this difficulty: in order\nto do something, we must have means, and in order to get means, we must\ndo something. It is a sort of vicious circle projected from logic into\nfinance. It will take the keen-edged genius of Brother Giestfacher to cut\nthis knot.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe work,\u201d said Giestfacher, \u201cin which we are engaged is of such merit\nthat it will stand of itself. I have no fears of ultimate triumph. If\nyou all fail, God and I will carry it on. Heaven is in it. I am in it.\nIt must succeed. I am a little oldish, I confess, but there is twenty\nyears of work in me still. I feel my foot sufficiently sure to tread the\nperilous path of this adventure to the goal.\u201d\n\n\u201cLet us,\u201d interposed Schwartz, \u201cstop this profitless debate, and give\na cheer to Brother Giestfacher. He is the blood and the bone of this\nmovement. We are in with him. We are all in the same boat. If we have\ndiscovered a pusillanimous simpleton among us, it is not too late to cast\nhim out. I feel my gorge and my strength rise together, and I swear to\nyou by S. Remigius, brethren, that I am prepared to sink or swim, and\nwhoever attempts to scuttle the ship shall himself perish first.\u201d\n\nTwo or three other brethren, feeling the peculiar inspiration of the\nmoment, rose up and, stamping their feet on the floor, proclaimed their\nadherence to the principles of the society, and vowed to see it through\nto the end.\n\nThis meeting then adjourned.\n\nThere is no minute of any subsequent meeting to be found among the\nmanuscripts that I have consulted, but I discovered a statement made by\nHeuck, dated six months later, who, being called before the municipal\nauthorities to testify what he knew about certain transactions of a\nnumber of men that had banded themselves together secretly for the\npurpose of creating a panic in the vellum market, and of disturbing\nthe business of the scriveners, said he was one of fourteen citizens\ninterested in the promulgation of the Gospel free to the poor. That,\nafter five or six meetings, he left the society in company with two\nothers; that two of the members became obnoxious, and were expelled--the\none, Dusch, for embezzling money collected for Scripture-writing and\nScripture-diffusing purposes, the other, Werner, for having retained\none of their volumes, and disposed of it to the lord of Drachenfels\nfor four hundred dollars; that they did not pursue and prosecute these\ndelinquents for fear of bringing reproach on the project; and then he\nwent on to state: \u201cI left the society voluntarily and in disgust. We had\nfourteen Bibles on hand, but could not agree about their distribution.\nThey were too valuable to give away for nothing, and it was discovered\nthat they were all written in Latin, and not in the vernacular, and they\nwould prove of as little value to the great mass of people for whom\nthey were originally designed as if they had been written in Hebrew.\nIn addition to this I found, for I understand the language perfectly,\nthat no two of them were alike, and, in conjunction with scrivener\nSchwartz, I minutely examined one taken at random from the pile, and\ncompared it with the volume at the Cathedral. We found fifteen hundred\ndiscrepancies. In some places whole sentences were left out. In others,\nwords were made to express a different sense from the original. In\nothers, letters were omitted or put in redundantly, in such a way as to\nchange the meaning; and the grammatical structure was villanously bad.\nSeeing that the volumes were of no use as a representation of the word\nof God, and being conscientiously convinced that the books contained\npoison for the people instead of medicine, I made a motion in meeting\nto have them all burned. Schwartz opposed it on the ground that they\nwere innoxious anyhow, there being none of the common people capable\nof understanding the language in which they were written, and, though\nthey were a failure as Bibles, the vellum might be again used; and as\nthe scriveners were not paid for their labor, they had a claim upon the\nvolumes. The scriveners got the books, to which, in my opinion, they had\nno just claim, for the villanous, bad work they did on them deserved\ncensure and not pay. I have heard since that some of those scriveners\nmade wealth by selling the books to Englishmen for genuine and carefully\nprepared transcripts from authorized texts. The president and founder of\nthe society, Giestfacher, is now in jail for debt, he having failed to\nmeet his obligations for the vellum he purchased when he took it into\nhis head to enlighten mankind--more especially that portion of it that\ndwells on the Rhine adjacent to the city of Bonn--by distributing corrupt\ncopies of Latin Bibles to poor people who are not well able to read their\nown language. The \u2018good work\u2019 still occupies the brains and energies of\nthree or four enthusiasts, who have already arrived at the conclusion\nthat the apostles were in league with hell to keep the people ignorant,\nbecause they did not give every man a copy of the Bible. The founder sent\nme a letter two days ago, in which he complains of being deserted by his\ncompanions in his extremity. His creditors have seized on all his goods,\nand there is a considerable sum yet unpaid. He blames the Pope and the\nbishop in unmeasured terms for this; says it is a conspiracy to keep the\nBible from the people. He sees no prospect of being released unless the\nmembers of the society come to his speedy relief. The principles, he\nsays, for which he suffers will yet triumph. The time will come when\nBibles will be multiplied by some cheap and easy process. Until then,\nthe common run of humanity must be satisfied to be damned, drawing what\nlittle consolation they may from the expectation that their descendants\na few centuries hence will enjoy the slim privilege of reading Bibles\nprepared with as little regard to accuracy as these were. I am sorry to\nsee such a noble intellect as Giestfacher undoubtedly possesses show\nsigns of aberration. The entire failure of his project was more than\nhe could bear. He had centred his hopes upon it. He indulged dreams of\nfame and greatness arising out of the triumph of his idea. Esch has\nbecome an atheist. He says the Christian\u2019s God would not have given\na book to be the guide and dependence of man for salvation, and yet\nallow nature, an inferior creation, to interpose insuperable barriers\nto its promulgation. Every time a sheep-skin is destroyed, says Esch,\na community is damned. The dearness and scarcity of parchment keep the\nworld in ignorance. Braunn says the world cannot be saved except by a\nspecial revelation to every individual, for there is hardly a copy of the\nBible without errors, so that whether every human creature got one or\nnot, they would be still unsafe. One of the common herd must learn Latin\nand Greek and Hebrew well, and then spend a lifetime tracing up, through\nall its changes, transcriptions, and corruptions of idiom, one chapter,\nor at most one book, and die before he be fully assured of the soundness\nof one text, a paragraph, a line, a word. In fact, says Braunn, there\ncan be no certainty about anything. Language may have had altogether a\ndifferent meaning twelve hundred years ago to what it has now. Braunn\nand Schwartz and myself wanted to have a committee of five of our number\nappointed to revise and correct the text of each book that was produced\nby comparing it with such Greek and Hebrew copies as were represented of\nsound and correct authority; but Giestfacher laughed at us, saying we\nknew nothing of Greek or Hebrew; that we would have to hire some monks\nto do the job for us, which would be going back again to the very places\nand principles and practices against which we had revolted and protested.\nMoreover, continued Giestfacher, we cannot tell whether the oldest, most\noriginal copies that can be found are true in every particular. How can\nwe know from any sort of mere human testimony that this copy or that is\nin accordance with what the prophets and apostles wrote. The whole Bible\nmay be wrong as far as our _knowledge_, as such, is able to testify. We\nare reduced to _faith_ in this connection and must rest on that alone.\n\n\u201cI thought, and so did Schwartz, that the faith of Giestfacher must be\npeculiar when it could accept copies as good enough and true enough after\nwe had discovered hundreds of palpable and grievous errors in them. A\nbook of romance would do a person of Giestfacher\u2019s temper as well as the\nBible--faith being capable of making up for all deficiencies. I saw that\nan extravagance of credulity, called faith, on the part of Giestfacher,\nled to monomania; and a predominance of irrational reason on the part of\nEsch had led to utter negation. I did not covet either condition, and I\nconcluded to remain safe at anchor where I had been before, rather than\nlonger follow those adventurers in a wild career after a fancied good--a\nmere phantom of their own creation. I lost twenty-five dollars by the\ntemporary madness. That cannot be recalled. I rejoice that I lost no\nmore, and I am grateful that the hallucination which lasted nearly a year\nhas passed away without any permanent injury.\u201d\n\nThe remainder of Heuck\u2019s statement had partially faded from the parchment\nby time and dampness, and could not be accurately made out. Sufficient\nwas left visible, however, to show that he expressed a desire to be held\nexcusable for whatever injuries to souls might result from the grave\nerrors that existed in the Bibles disseminated by the cupidity of the\nscriveners with the guilty knowledge of such errors.\n\nI interested myself in rescuing from oblivion such parts of the record\nof those curious medi\u00e6val transactions as served to show to the people\nof later times what extraordinary mental and religious activity existed\nin those ages, when it was foolishly and stupidly thought there were but\nhenchmen and slaves on the one side, and bloody mailed despots on the\nother. The arrogance of more favored epochs has characterized those days\nby the epithet of \u201cdark.\u201d Pride is apt to be blind. The characterization\nis unjust. All the lights of science could not come in one blaze. The\npeople of those days looked back upon a period anterior to their own as\n\u201cdark,\u201d and those looked still further backward upon greater obscurity,\nas they thought. The universal boastfulness of man accounts for this\nincreasing obscurity as we reach back into antiquity. Philosophers and\npoets and men of learning, thinking themselves, and wishing to have other\npeople think them, above personal egotism, adopted the method of praising\ntheir age, and thus indirectly eulogizing, themselves; and as they could\nnot compare their times with the future of which they knew nothing, they\nnaturally fell into the unfilial crime of drawing disparaging comparisons\nwith their fathers. There is an inclination, too, in the imperfection\nof human nature to belittle what is remote and magnify what is near at\nhand. Even now, men as enthusiastic and conscientious and religious as\nHeuck and Giestfacher and Schwartz find themselves surrounded by the same\ndifficulties, and as deeply at a loss to advance a valid reason for their\nrevolt and their protest.\n\n\nEARLY PERSECUTIONS OF THE CHRISTIANS.\n\nIn one of his bold Apologies[9] the great African writer Tertullian said\nto the rulers of the Roman Empire that \u201cit was one and the same thing for\nthe truth [of Christianity] to be announced to the world, and for the\nworld to hate and persecute it.\u201d This persecution of the church began\non the very spot that was her birth-place; for soon after the ascension\nof our Lord the wicked Jews tried by every means to crush her. \u201cFrom\nthe days of the apostles,\u201d wrote Tertullian in the IIId century, \u201cthe\nsynagogue has been a source of persecutions.\u201d At first the church was\nattacked by words only; but these were soon replaced by weapons, when\nStephen was stoned, the apostles were thrown into prison and scourged,\nand all the East had risen in commotion against the Christians. The\nGentiles soon followed the example of the Jews, and those persecutions\nwhich bore an official character throughout the Roman Empire, and lasted\nfor three centuries, are commonly called the Ten General Persecutions.\nBesides these, there were partial persecutions at all times in some part\nor other of the empire. Nero, whose name is synonymous with cruelty, was\nthe first emperor to begin a general persecution of the Christians; and\nTertullian made a strong point in his favor when he cried out to the\npeople (_Apol. v._), saying, \u201cThat our troubles began at such a source,\nwe glory; for whoever has studied his nature knows well that nothing\nbut what is good and great was ever condemned by Nero.\u201d This persecution\nbegan in the year 64, and lasted four years. Its pretext was the burning\nof Rome, the work of the emperor himself, who ambitiously desired, when\nhe would have rebuilt the city and made it still more grand, to call\nit by his own name; but the plan not succeeding, he tried to avert the\nodium of the deed from his own person, and accused the Christians. Their\nextermination was decreed. The pagan historian Tacitus has mentioned,\nin his _Annals_ (xv. 44), some of the principal torments inflicted on\nthe Christians. He says that they were covered with the skins of wild\nbeasts and torn to pieces by savage hounds, were crucified, were burned\nalive, and that some, being coated with resinous substances, were put up\nin the imperial garden at night to serve as human torches. The _Roman\nMartyrology_ makes a special commemoration, on the 24th of June, of these\nmartyrs for having all been disciples of the apostles and the firstlings\nof the Christian flock which the church in Rome presented to the Lord.\nIn this persecution S. Peter was crucified with his head downwards; S.\nPaul was beheaded; and among the other more illustrious victims we find\nS. Mark the Evangelist, S. Thecla, the first martyr of her sex, SS.\nGervase and Protase at Milan, S. Vitalis at Ravenna, and S. Polycetus at\nSaragossa in Spain. The number of the slain, and the hitherto unheard-of\ncruelties practised upon them, moved to pity many of the heathen, and\nthe sight of so much fortitude for a principle of religion was the\nmeans, through divine grace, of many conversions. After this, as after\nevery succeeding persecution, the great truth spoken by Tertullian was\nexemplified: that the blood of the martyrs was the seed of Christians.\n\nBy a law of the empire, which was not revoked until nearly three hundred\nyears afterwards, under Constantine, the profession of the Christian\nreligion was made a capital offence. This law, it is true, was not\nenforced at all times, especially under benign or indifferent rulers; but\nit hung continually suspended over the heads of the Christians like a\nsword of Damocles.\n\nThe second persecution was that of Domitian, from 94 to 96. Tertullian\ncalls him \u201ca portion of Nero by his cruelty.\u201d At first he only imposed\nheavy fines upon the wealthy Christians; but, thirsting for blood, he\nsoon published more cruel edicts against them. Among his noblest victims\nwere his cousin-german, Flavius Clemens, a man of consular dignity; John\nthe Evangelist, who was thrown into a caldron of boiling oil (from which,\nhowever, he miraculously escaped unhurt); Andrew the Apostle, Dionysius\nthe Areopagite, and Onesimus, S. Paul\u2019s convert. Hegesippus, quoted by\nEusebius in his _Ecclesiastical History_, has recorded a very interesting\nfact about the children of Jude, surnamed Thaddeus in the Gospel,\ntelling us that, having confessed the faith under this reign, they were\nalways honored in the church of Jerusalem, not alone as martyrs, but as\nrelatives of Jesus Christ according to the flesh.\n\nThe third persecution was Trajan\u2019s, from 97 to 116. In answer to a\nletter from his friend Pliny the Younger, who had command in Asia Minor,\nthe emperor ordered that the Christians were not to be sought out, but\nthat, if accused, and they remained obstinate in their faith, they\nwere to be put to death. Under an appearance of mercy a large field\nwas opened for the cruelty and exactions of Roman officials, which\nthey were not slow to work. A single circumstance attests the severity\nof the persecution. This was that the Tiberian governor of Palestine\nwrote to the emperor complaining of the odious duty imposed upon him,\nsince the Christians were forthcoming in greater numbers than he could,\nwithout tiring, have executed. The persecution was particularly severe\nin the East. Simeon, bishop of Jerusalem, Ignatius of Antioch, and the\nvirgin Domitilla, who was related to three emperors, are among the more\nillustrious martyrs of the period.\n\nNext came the persecution of Hadrian, lasting from 118 to about 129. We\nhave the authority of S. Jerome for saying that it was very violent.\nThis emperor was a coward and, perhaps as a consequence, intensely\nsuperstitious. One of his particular grievances against the Christians\nwas that they professed a religion in which he had no share. Under him\nperished, with countless others, Pope Alexander I. and his priests,\nEventius and Theodulus; Eustace, a celebrated general, with his wife and\nlittle children; Symphorosa and her seven sons; Zoe, with her husband and\ntwo children.\n\nThe fifth was the persecution of Marcus Aurelius. Although he was by\nnature well inclined, he was certainly the author of much innocent\nbloodshed, which may be in part ascribed to the powerful influence\nof the so-called philosophers whose company and tone he affected. The\npersecution raged most severely among the Gauls; and elsewhere we find\nthe illustrious names of Justin the great Apologist, Polycarp, bishop of\nSmyrna, and Felicitas and her seven children.\n\nFollowed the persecution of Septimius Severus, which lasted from 200\nto 211, and was so extremely violent that many Christians believed\nAntichrist had come. It reaped from the church such distinguished\npersons as Pope Victor at Rome; Leonidas, father of the great Origen, at\nAlexandria; Iren\u00e6us and companions at Lyons; Perpetua and Felicitas in\nMauritania. Egypt was particularly rich in holy martyrs.\n\nAfter this one came the persecution of Maximinus, from 235 to 237. It was\nin the beginning more especially directed against the sacred ministers\nof the church. Several popes were put to death; and among the inferior\nclergy we find the deacon Ambrose, who was the bosom friend of Origen and\none of his principal assistants in his work on the Holy Scriptures.\n\nThe persecution of Decius lasted from 249 to 251. The Christians, in\nspite of all repressive measures, had steadily increased in numbers; but\nthis emperor thought to do what his predecessors had failed in, and was\nhardly seated on the throne before he published most cruel edicts against\nthem. Among the more celebrated names of this persecution are those\nof Popes Fabian and Cornelius; Saturninus, first bishop of Toulouse;\nBabylas, bishop of Antioch; the famous Christopher in Lycia, about whom\nthere is a beautiful legend; and the noble virgin Agatha in Sicily. The\ngreat scholar Origen was put to the torture during this persecution, but\nescaped death. Like Maximinus, this emperor singled out the heads of\nthe various local churches, the most active and learned ministers, the\nhighest of both sexes in the social scale, aiming less at the death than\nthe apostasy of Christians, hoping in this way to destroy the faith;\nwhence S. Cyprian laments in one of his epistles that the Christians\nsuffer atrocious torments without the final consolation of martyrdom.\nOne effect of this persecution was of immense benefit to the church in\nthe East; for S. Paul, surnamed First Hermit, took refuge from the storm\nin Upper Egypt, where he peopled by his example the region around Thebes\nwith those holy anchorites since called the Fathers of the Desert.\n\nThe ninth persecution was that of Valerian, who, although at first\nfavorable to the Christians, became one of their greatest opposers at\nthe instigation of their sworn enemy, Marcian. At this date we find upon\nthe list of martyrs the eminent names of Popes Stephen and Sixtus II.,\nLawrence the Roman deacon, and Cyprian, the great convert and bishop of\nCarthage.\n\nThe persecution of Diocletian was the last and the bloodiest of all. It\nraged from 303 to 310. Maximian, the emperor\u2019s colleague, had already\nput to death many Christians, and among others, on the 22d of September,\n286, Maurice and his Theban legion, before the persecution became\ngeneral throughout the Roman Empire. It began in this form at Nicomedia\non occasion of a fire that consumed a part of the imperial palace, and\nwhich was maliciously ascribed to the Christians; and it is remarkable\nthat the two extreme persecutions of the early church should both have\nbegun with a false charge of incendiarism. Diocletian used to sit upon\nhis throne at Nicomedia, watching the death-pangs of his Christian\nsubjects who were being burned, not singly, but in great crowds. Many\nofficers and servants of his household perished, and, to distinguish\nthem from the rest, they were dropped into the sea with large stones\nfastened about their necks. A special object of the persecutors was to\ndestroy the churches and tombs of earlier martyrs, to seize the vessels\nused in the Holy Sacrifice, and to burn the liturgical books and the\nHoly Scriptures. The _Roman Martyrology_ makes a particular mention on\nthe 2d of January of those who suffered death rather than deliver up\nthese books to the tyrant. Although innumerable copies of the Scriptures\nperished, not a few were saved, and new copies multiplied either by favor\nof the less stringent executors of the law, or because the privilege\nwas bought by the faithful at a great price. Some years ago the German\nBiblical critic Tischendorf discovered on Mount Sinai a Greek codex of\nextraordinary antiquity and only two removes from an original of Origen.\nIt is connected with one of the celebrated martyrs of this persecution,\nand bears upon what we have just said of the Sacred Scriptures. In this\ncodex, at the end of the Book of Esther, there is a note attesting that\nthe copy was collated with a very ancient manuscript that had itself\nbeen corrected by the hand of the blessed martyr Pamphilus, priest\nof C\u00e6sarea in Palestine, while in prison, assisted by Antoninus, his\nfellow-prisoner, who read for him from a copy of the Hexapla of Origen,\nwhich had been revised by that author himself. The touching spectacle of\nthese two men, both of whom gave their blood for the faith, occupied,\nin the midst of the inconveniences, pain, and weariness of captivity,\nin transcribing good copies of the Bible, is one of the many instances,\ndiscovered in every age, showing the care that the church has had to\nmultiply and guard from error the holy written Word of God.\n\nAmong the petty sources of annoyance during this persecution, was the\ndifficulty of procuring food, drink, or raiment that had not been offered\nto idols; for the pagan priests had set up statues of their divinities\nin all the market-places, hostelries, and shops, and at the private and\npublic fountains. They used also to go around city and country sprinkling\nwith superstitious lustral water the gardens, vineyards, orchards, and\nfields, so as to put the Christians to the greatest straits to obtain\nanything that had not been polluted in this manner. We learn from the\nActs of S. Theodotus, a Christian tradesman of Ancyra, the obstacles he\nhad to surmount at this time to procure pure bread and wine to be used\nby the priests in the Mass. We can appreciate the intense severity of\nthis persecution in many ways; but one of the most singular proofs of\nit is that pagans in Spain inscribed upon a marble monument, erected in\nDiocletian\u2019s honor, _that he had abolished the very name of Christian_.\nThis emperor had also the rare but unenviable privilege of giving his\nname to a new chronological period, called by the pagans, in compliment\nto his bloody zeal for their rites, the Era of Diocletian; but the\nChristians called it the Era of the Martyrs. It began on the 29th of\nAugust, 284, and was long in use in Egypt and Abyssinia. Some of the more\nrenowned victims of this persecution are Sebastian, an imperial officer;\nAgnes, a Roman virgin; Lucy, a virgin of Syracuse, and the Forty Martyrs\nof Sebaste.\n\nIt may be interesting to note briefly the chief causes of so much cruel\nbloodshed, even under princes of undoubted moderation in the general\ngovernment of affairs, as were Trajan, Marcus Aurelius, Antoninus the\nPious, and a few others.\n\nThe most continual, if not the deepest, source of persecution were the\npassions of the populace. Calumny of the subtlest and most popular kind,\nand pressed at all times with patient effort, had so inflamed the minds\nof the brutal lower classes that only a word or a sign was required to\nset them upon the Christians. These were called disloyal to the empire,\nunfriendly to the princes, of a foreign religion, people who refused to\nfall into the ways of the majority, and enemies of the human race. From\nthe remains of ancient histories, from the Acts of martyrs, from pagan\ninscriptions, and from other sources, more than fifty-seven different\nopprobrious qualifications, applied to the Christians as a body, have\nbeen counted up. But when particular calumnies became any way stale, the\nChristians could always be accused as the cause of every calamity that\nbefell the state; so that, in the words of Tertullian (_Apol. xl._), \u201cIf\nthe Tiber exceeded its limits, if the Nile did not rise to irrigate the\nfields, if the rain failed to fall, if the earth quaked, if famine or\npestilence scourged the land, at once the cry was raised, Christians to\nthe lions!\u201d\n\nThe next most constant source of trouble was the pernicious influence of\nthe Philosophers--a set of men who pretended to be seekers after wisdom,\nand distinguished themselves from the vulgar by a certain style of dress.\nPuffed up as they were with their own knowledge, nothing irritated\ntheir pride so much as that men of the despised Christian class should\npresume to dispute their doctrines and teach that profane philosophy\nwas naught, since man could not be made perfect by human wisdom, but\nonly by the testimony of Christ who was crucified. Among the Christians,\ntoo, a special order of men whom we call Apologists, and among whom we\ncount Justin, Tertullian, Tatian, Arnobius, Minutius Felix, Origen,\nAristides, Quadratus, Athenagoras, and Miltiades the chief, exposed in\ntheir eloquent writings the vanity, contradictions, and vices of their\nopponents, succeeding sometimes in silencing false accusations, and even\nin arresting the course of persecution. Their apologies and memorials\nform one of the most instructive branches of early Christian literature,\nand are a considerable compensation for the loss of so many Acts of\nmartyrs and other venerable documents destroyed by the pagans or which\nhave otherwise perished.\n\nThe third great cause of persecution was found (to use a comparatively\nmodern word) in the Erastianism of the Roman Empire. The emperor was, by\nright of the purple, high-pontiff, and no religion was recognized that\ndid not profess its existence and authority dependent upon the state.\nNaturally, a religion whose followers would reply to every iniquitous\ncommand, \u201cWe ought to obey God rather than men,\u201d could expect no mercy,\nbut only continual war.\n\nSometimes the Christians were put to death in the same manner as the\ncommon malefactors, such as by decapitation, crucifixion, or scourging;\nsometimes in the manner reserved for particular classes of criminals, as\nbeing hurled down a precipice, drowned, devoured by wild beasts, left to\nstarve. But sometimes, also, the exquisite cruelty of the persecutors\ndelighted to feed upon the sufferings of its victims, and make dying as\nlong and painful as possible. Thus, there are innumerable examples of\nChristians being flayed alive, the skin being neatly cut off in long\nstrips, and pepper or vinegar rubbed into the raw flesh; or slowly\ncrushed between two large stones; or having molten lead poured down the\nthroat. Some Christians were tied to stakes in the ground and gored to\ndeath by wild bulls, or thinly smeared with honey and exposed under a\nbroiling sun to the insects which would be attracted; some were tied to\nthe tails of vicious horses and dragged to pieces some were sewed up\nin sacks with vipers, scorpions, or other venomous things, and thrown\ninto the water; some had their members violently torn from the trunk of\nthe body; some were tortured by fire in ways almost unknown to the most\nsavage Indians of America; some were slowly scourged to death with whips\nmade of several bronze chainlets, at the extremity of each of which was\na jagged bullet; while jerking out of the teeth in slow succession;\ncutting off the nose, ears, lips, and breasts; tearing of the flesh with\nhot pincers; sticking sharp sticks up under the finger-nails; being held\nsuspended, head downward, over a smoking fire; stretching upon a rack,\nand breaking upon the wheel, were some only of the commonest tortures\nthat preceded the final death-stroke by sword or lance. Many instruments\nused in tormenting the martyrs have been found at different times, and\nare now carefully preserved in collections of Christian antiquities;\nand from these, from early-written descriptions, and from the rude\nrepresentations on the tombs of martyrs in the Catacombs, it is known\npositively that over one hundred different modes of torture were used\nupon the Christians.\n\nFrom the earliest period particular pains were taken by the pastors of\nthe church to have the remains of the martyrs collected and some account\nof their sufferings consigned to letters; and Pope S. Clement, a disciple\nof the Apostle Peter, instituted a college of notaries, one for each\nof the seven ecclesiastical districts into which he had divided Rome,\nwith the special charge of collecting with diligence all the information\npossible about the martyrs. They were not to pass over even the minutest\ncircumstances of their confession of faith and death. This attendance on\nthe last moments of the martyrs was often accompanied by great personal\nrisk, or at least a heavy expense in the way of buying the good-will of\nvenal officers; but it was a thing of the utmost importance, in view\nof the church\u2019s doctrine concerning the veneration and invocation of\nsaints, that nothing should be left undone which prudence would suggest\nto leave it beyond a doubt that the martyrs had confessed the _true_\nfaith, and had suffered death _for_ the faith. The pagans soon discovered\nthe value that was set upon such documents, and very many of them were\nseized and destroyed. The fact that the Act of the martyrs were objects\nof careful search is so well attested--as is also the other fact, that\nan immense number perished--that it is a wonder and a grace of divine\nProvidence how any, however few comparatively, have come down to us. It\nhas been calculated that at least five million Christians--men, women,\nand children--were put to death for the faith during the first three\ncenturies of the church.\n\nThe French historian Amp\u00e8re has very justly remarked that amidst the\nmoral decay of the Roman Empire, when all else was lust and despotism,\nthe Christians alone saved the dignity of human nature; and the Spaniard\nBalmes, when treating of the progress of individuality under the\ninfluence of Catholicity (_European Civilization_, ch. xxiii.), remarks\nthat it was the martyrs who first gave the great example of proclaiming\nthat \u201cthe individual should cease to acknowledge power when power exacts\nfrom him what he believes to be contrary to his conscience.\u201d The patience\nof the martyrs rebuked the sensualism of the pagans; and their fearless\nassertions that matters of conscience are beyond the jurisdiction of any\ncivil ruler proved them to be the best friends of human liberty; while\ntheir constancy and number during three hundred years of persecution,\nthat only ceased with their triumph, is one of the solid arguments to\nprove that the Catholic Church has a divine origin, and a sustaining\ndivinity within her.\n\n    \u201cA milk-white Hind, immortal and unchang\u2019d,\n    Fed on the lawns, and in the forest rang\u2019d;\n    Without unspotted, innocent within,\n    She fear\u2019d no danger, for she knew no sin:\n    Yet had she oft been chas\u2019d with horns and hounds,\n    And Scythian shafts, and many wing\u00e8d wounds\n    Aim\u2019d at her heart; was often forc\u2019d to fly,\n    And doom\u2019d to death, tho\u2019 fated not to die.\u201d\n\n                                                --DRYDEN.\n\n\nTHE UNREMEMBERED MOTHER.\n\n    Unknown, beloved, thou whose shadow lies\n      Across the sunny threshold of my years;\n    Whom memory with never-resting eyes\n      Seeks thro\u2019 the past, but cannot find for tears;\n    How bitter is the thought that I, thy child,\n      Remember not the touch, the look, the tone,\n      Which made my young life thrill--that I alone\n    Forget the face that o\u2019er my cradle smil\u2019d!\n      And yet I know that if a sudden light\n    Reveal\u2019d thy living likeness, I should find\n      That my poor heart hath pictur\u2019d thee aright.\n    So I will wait, nor think the lot unkind\n      That hides thee from me, till I know by sight\n    The perfect face thro\u2019 love on earth divin\u2019d.\n\n\nDURATION.\n\nTime and duration are usually considered synonymous, as no duration is\nperceived by us, except the duration of movement, or of such things as\nare subject to movement; and such duration is time. But, rigorously\nspeaking, time and duration are not synonymous; for they are to one\nanother in the same relation as place and space. As no place is possible\nwithout real absolute space, so no time is possible without real absolute\nduration; and as place consists of intervals in space, so time consists\nof intervals in duration. Yet there may be duration independently of\ntime, just as there may be space independent of places; and for this\nreason the nature of duration must be determined apart from the nature\nof time. In treating of this subject we shall have to answer a series of\nquestions altogether similar to those which we have answered in treating\nof space and place. Hence we shall follow the same order and method in\nour present treatise which we have followed in our articles on space,\nwith this difference, however: that, to avoid useless repetitions, we\nwill omit the development of some of those reasonings which the reader\nhimself can easily transfer from space to duration.\n\nDuration is commonly defined as \u201cthe permanence of a being in its\nactuality\u201d--_Permanentia rei in esse_. The duration of a being which\nperseveres in existence without any intrinsic change is called \u201cstanding\nduration\u201d--_Duratio stans_. The duration of a being which is actually\nsubject to intrinsic mutations is called \u201cflowing duration\u201d--_Duratio\nfluens_.\n\nFlowing duration evidently implies succession, and succession involves\ntime; for succession is a relation between something which follows\nand something which precedes. On the other hand, time also involves\nsuccession; whence it would seem that neither time nor succession can be\ndefined apart from one another, the definition of the latter presupposing\nthat of the former, and that of the former presupposing the notion of\nthe latter. Although we need not be anxious about this point (for time\nand succession really involve one another, and therefore may well be\nincluded under the same definition), we must observe that the notion\nof succession, though ordinarily applied to duration, extends to other\nthings also whenever they follow one another in a certain order. Thus\nthe crust of the earth is formed by a succession of strata, the Alps by\na succession of mountains, the streets of the city by a succession of\nhouses, etc. Hence the notion of succession is more general than the\nnotion of time, and consequently there must be some means of defining it\nindependently of the consideration of time.\n\nBalmes explains succession, without mentioning time, in the following\nmanner: \u201cThere are things which exclude one another from the same\nsubject, and there are other things which do not exclude one another from\nthe same subject. The existence of those things which exclude one another\nimplies succession. Take a line _ABC_. A body placed in _A_ cannot pass\nover to the place _B_ without ceasing to be in _A_, because the situation\n_B_ excludes the situation _A_, and in a similar manner the situation\n_C_ excludes the situation _B_. If, then, notwithstanding this mutual\nexclusion, the three places are really occupied by the same body, there\nis succession. This shows that succession is really nothing else than\n_the existence of such things as exclude one another_. Hence succession\nimplies the existence of the thing that excludes, and the non-existence\nof the things that are excluded. All variations involve some such\nexclusion; hence all variations involve succession.\u2026 To perceive the\nexistence of things which exclude one another is to perceive succession\nand time; to measure it is to measure time.\u201d Thus far Balmes.[10]\n\nBut, if the _flowing_ duration can be easily conceived as the existence\nof such things as exclude one another, the case is very different with\nregard to _standing_ duration. For, since we measure all duration by time\nor by successive intervals, we can scarcely conceive that there may be\nduration without succession. Even the word \u201cpermanence\u201d which we employ\nin the definition of duration, and which seems to exclude all notion of\nchange, is always associated in our thought with succession and time.\nThe difficulty we experience in forming a concept of standing duration\nis as great at least as that which we find in conceiving absolute space\nwithout formal extension and parts. In fact, formal extension is to\nabsolute space what formal succession is to absolute standing duration.\nTo get over this difficulty we shall have to show that there is a\nduration altogether independent of contingent changes, as there is a\nspace altogether independent of existing bodies, and that the succession\nwhich we observe in the duration of created things is not to be found in\nthe fundamental reason of its existence, as our imagination suggests, but\nonly in the changes themselves which we witness in created things.\n\nThe following questions are to be answered: Is there any standing\nduration? and if so, is it an objective reality, or a mere negation of\nmovement? Is standing duration anything created? What sort of reality\nis it? Is it modified by the existence of creatures? What is a term of\nduration? What is relative duration? What is an interval of duration, and\nhow is it measured? These questions are all parallel to those which we\nhave answered in our first and second articles on space, and they admit\nof a similar solution.\n\n_First question._--\u201cIs there any duration absolutely standing?\u201d\nCertainly. For if there is a being whose entity remains always the same\nwithout any intrinsic change, its duration will be absolutely standing.\nBut there is such a being. For there is, as we have proved, an infinite\nreality absolutely immovable and unchangeable--that is, absolute space.\nIts permanence is therefore altogether exempt from succession; and\nconsequently its duration is absolutely standing.\n\nAgain: As there is no movement in space without immovable space, so there\nis no flowing in duration without standing duration. For as a thing\ncannot change its ubication in space unless there be a field for real\nubications between the initial and the final term of the movement, so a\nthing cannot change its mode of being (the _when_) in duration, unless\nthere be a field for real modes of being between the initial and the\nfinal term of its duration. Now, this real field, owing to the fact that\nit is, in both cases, prerequired for the possibility of the respective\nchanges, is something necessarily anterior to, and independent of, any of\nsuch changes. Therefore, as the field of all local movements is anterior\nto all movements and excludes movement from itself, so also the field of\nall successive durations is anterior to all successivity and therefore\nexcludes succession.\n\nAlthough these two arguments suffice to establish our conclusion, what we\nhave to say concerning the next question will furnish additional evidence\nin its support.\n\n_Second question._--\u201cIs standing duration an objective reality or a mere\nabstract conception?\u201d We answer that standing duration is an objective\nreality as much as absolute space. For, as movement cannot extend in\nspace, if space is nothing real, so movement cannot extend in duration,\nif the field of its extension is nothing real. But we have just seen that\nthe field through which the duration of movement extends is standing\nduration. Therefore standing duration is an objective reality.\n\nSecondly, a mere nothing, or a mere fiction, cannot be the foundation of\nreal relations. But standing duration is the foundation of all intervals\nof real succession, which are real relations. Therefore standing duration\nis not a fiction, but an objective reality. The major of this argument\nis well known. The minor is proved thus: In all real relations the terms\nmust communicate with each other through one and the same reality; and\ntherefore the foundation of a real relation must reach by one and the\nsame reality the terms related. But the terms of successive duration\nare _before_ and _after_. Therefore the foundation of their relation\nmust reach both _before_ and _after_ with one and the same reality,\nand therefore it has neither _before_ nor _after_ in itself. Had it\n_before_ and _after_ in itself, its _after_ would not be its _before_;\nand thus the reality by which it would reach the terms of succession\nwould not be the same. It is therefore manifest that the foundation of\nall real intervals of succession is a reality whose duration ranges above\nsuccession.\n\nThis proof may be presented more concisely as follows: Succession is a\nrelation between two terms, as _past_ and _present_. Its foundation must\ntherefore reach all the past as it reaches the present. But what reaches\nthe past as well as the present, is always present; for if it were\npast, it would be no more, and thus it could not reach the past and the\npresent. Therefore the foundation of succession has no past, but only an\ninvariable present. Therefore there is a real standing duration, a real\nfield, over which successive duration extends.\n\nThirdly, in all intervals of succession the _before_ is connected\nwith the _after_ through real duration. But this real duration has\nin itself neither _before_ nor _after_. For if it had _before_ and\n_after_, it would fall under the very genus of relation of which it is\nthe foundation; which is evidently impossible, because it would then be\nthe foundation of its own entity. It is therefore plain that the real\nconnection between the _before_ and the _after_ is made by a reality\nwhich transcends all _before_ and all _after_, and which is nothing else\nthan absolute standing duration.\n\nFourthly, if standing duration were not an objective reality, but a mere\nfiction or a mere negation of movement, there would be no real length\nof duration. For the terms of successive duration are indivisible,\nand consequently they cannot give rise to any continuous quantity of\nduration, unless something lies between them which affords a real ground\nfor continuous extension. That the terms of successive duration are\nindivisible is evident, because the same term cannot be before itself nor\nafter itself, but is wholly confined to an indivisible instant. Now, that\naccording to which an interval of successive duration can be extended\nfrom one of these terms to another, is nothing but absolute and standing\nduration. For, if it were flowing, it would pass away with the passing\nterms, and thus it would not lie between them, as is necessary in order\nto supply a ground for the extension of the interval intercepted. In the\nsame manner, therefore, as there cannot be distance between two ubicated\npoints without real absolute space, there cannot be an interval between\ntwo terms in succession without real absolute duration.\n\nA fifth proof of the same truth may be drawn from the reality of the\npast. Historical facts are real facts, although they are all past. There\nreally was a man called Solomon, who really reigned in Jerusalem; there\nreally was a philosopher called Plato, whose sublime doctrines deserved\nfor him the surname of Divine; there really was a man called Attila,\nsurnamed the Scourge of God. These men existed in different intervals\nof duration, and they are no more; but their past existence and their\ndistinct duration constitute three distinct facts, which are _real facts_\neven to the present day, and such will remain for ever. Now, how can\nwe admit that what has wholly ceased to exist in successive duration\nis still a real and indelible fact, unless we admit that there is an\nabsolute duration which is, even now, as truly united with the past as it\nis with the present, and to which the past is not past, but perpetually\npresent? If there is no such duration, then all the past must have been\nobliterated and buried in absolute nothingness; for if the succession of\npast things extended upon itself alone, without any distinct ground upon\nwhich its flowing could be registered, none of past things could have\nleft behind a real mark of their existence.\n\nAgainst this conclusion some will object that the relation between\n_before_ and _after_ may be explained by a mere negation of simultaneous\nexistence. But the objection is futile. For the intervals of successive\nduration can be greater or less, whilst no negation can be greater or\nless; which shows that the negation of simultaneous existence must not be\nconfounded with the intervals of succession.\n\nThe following objection is more plausible. The duration of movement\nsuffices to fill up the whole interval of succession and to measure its\nextent; and therefore the reality which connects the _before_ with the\n_after_ is movement itself, not standing duration. To this we answer\nthat the duration of movement is essentially successive and relative;\nand therefore it requires a real foundation in something standing and\nabsolute. In fact, although every movement formally extends and measures\nits own duration, nevertheless it does not extend it upon itself, but\nupon a field extrinsic to itself; and this field is permanently the\nsame. It is plain that the beginning and the end of movement cannot be\nconnected in mutual relation through movement alone, because movement is\nalways _in fieri_, and when it passes through one term of its duration\nit loses the actuality it had in the preceding term; so that, when it\nreaches its last term, it has nothing left of what it possessed in its\ninitial term or in any other subsequent term. This suffices to show that,\nalthough the duration of the movement fills up the whole interval, yet,\nowing to its very successivity, it cannot be assumed as the ground of the\nrelation intervening between its successive terms.\n\n_Third question._--\u201cIs absolute and standing duration a created or\nan uncreated reality?\u201d This question is easily answered; for, in the\nfirst place, standing duration is the duration of a being altogether\nunchangeable; and nothing unchangeable is created. Hence standing\nduration is an uncreated reality. On the other hand, all that is created\nis changeable and constantly subject to movement; hence all created (that\nis, contingent) duration implies succession. Therefore standing duration\nis not to be found among created realities. Lastly, standing duration,\nas involving in itself all conceivable past and all possible future,\nis infinite, and, as forming the ground of all contingent actualities,\nis nothing less than the formal possibility of infinite terms of real\nsuccessive duration. But such a possibility can be found in God alone.\nTherefore the reality of standing duration is in God alone; and we need\nnot add that it must be uncreated.\n\n_Fourth question._--\u201cWhat reality, then, is absolute standing duration?\u201d\nWe answer that this duration is the infinite virtuality or extrinsic\nterminability of God\u2019s eternity. For nowhere but in God\u2019s eternity can\nwe find the reason of the possibility of infinite terms and intervals of\nduration. Of course, God\u2019s eternity, considered absolutely _ad intra_,\nis nothing else than the immobility of God\u2019s existence; but its virtual\ncomprehension of all possible terms of successive duration constitutes\nthe absolute duration of God\u2019s existence, inasmuch as the word \u201cduration\u201d\nexpresses a virtual extent corresponding to all possible contingent\nduration; for God\u2019s duration, though formally simultaneous, virtually\nextends beyond all imaginable terms and intervals of contingent duration.\nHence standing duration is the duration of God\u2019s eternity, the first and\nfundamental ground of flowing duration, the infinite range through which\nthe duration of changeable things extend. In other words, the infinite\nvirtuality of God\u2019s eternity, as equivalent to an infinite length of\ntime, is _duration_; and as excluding from itself all intrinsic change,\nis _standing_ duration. This virtuality of God\u2019s eternity is really\nnothing else than its extrinsic terminability; for eternity is conceived\nto correspond to all possible differences of time only inasmuch as it can\nbe compared with the contingent terms by which it can be extrinsically\nterminated.\n\nSecondly, if nothing had been created, there would have been no extrinsic\nterms capable of extending successive duration; but, since God would\nhave remained in his eternity, there would have remained the reality in\nwhich all extrinsic terms of duration have their virtual being; and\nthus there would have remained, eminently and without formal succession,\nin God himself the duration of all the beings possible outside of God.\nFor he would certainly not have ceased to exist in all the instants of\nduration in which creatures have existed; the only change would have\nbeen this: that those instants, owing to a total absence of creatures,\nwould have lacked their formal denomination of _instants_, and their\nformal successivity. Hence, if nothing had been created, there would have\nremained infinite real duration without succession, simply because the\nvirtuality of God\u2019s eternity would have remained in all its perfection.\nIt is therefore this virtuality that formally constitutes standing\nduration.\n\nFrom this the reader will easily understand that in the concept of\nstanding duration two notions are involved, viz.: that of _eternity_,\nas expressing the standing, and that of its _virtuality_, as connoting\nvirtual extent. In fact, God\u2019s eternity, absolutely considered, is\nsimply the actuality of God\u2019s substance, and, as such, does not connote\nduration; for God\u2019s substance is not said _to endure_, but simply\n_to be_. The formal reason of duration is derived from the extrinsic\nterminability of God\u2019s eternity; for the word \u201cduration\u201d conveys the idea\nof continuation, and continuation implies succession. Hence it is on\naccount of its extrinsic terminability to successive terms of duration\nthat God\u2019s eternity is conceived as equivalent to infinite succession;\nfor what virtually contains in itself all possible terms and intervals of\nsuccession virtually contains in itself all succession, and can co exist,\nwithout intrinsic change, with all the changes of contingent duration.\nBalmes, after defining succession as the existence of such things as\nexclude one another, very properly remarks: \u201cIf there were a being which\nneither excluded any other being nor were excluded by any of them,\nthat being would co-exist with all beings. Now, one such being exists,\nviz.: God, and God alone. Hence theologians do but express a great and\nprofound truth when they say (though not all, perhaps, fully understand\nwhat they say) that God is present to all times; that to him there is no\nsuccession, no _before_ or _after_; that to him everything is present, is\n_Now_.\u201d[11]\n\nWe conclude that standing duration is infinite, all-simultaneous,\nindependent of all contingent things, indivisible, immovable, formally\nsimple and unextended, but equivalent to infinite intervals of successive\nduration, and virtually extending through infinite lengths. This duration\nis absolute.\n\n_Fifth question._--\u201cDoes the creation of a contingent being in absolute\nduration cause any intrinsic change in standing duration?\u201d The answer\nis not doubtful; for we have already seen that standing duration is\nincapable of intrinsic modifications. Nevertheless, it will not be\nsuperfluous to remark, for the better understanding of this answer, that\nthe \u201cwhen\u201d (the _quando_) of a contingent being has the same relation\nto the virtuality of God\u2019s eternity as has its \u201cwhere\u201d (the _ubi_) to\nthe virtuality of God\u2019s immensity. For, as the \u201cwhere\u201d of every possible\ncreature is virtually precontained in absolute space, so is the \u201cwhen\u201d\nof all creatures virtually precontained in absolute duration. Hence the\ncreation of any number of contingent beings in duration implies nothing\nbut the _extrinsic_ termination of absolute duration, which accordingly\nremains altogether unaffected by the existence in it of any number of\nextrinsic terms. The \u201cwhen\u201d of a contingent being, as contained in\nabsolute duration, is virtual; it does not become formal except in the\ncontingent being itself--that is, by extrinsic termination. Thus the\nsubject of the contingent \u201cwhen\u201d is not the virtuality of God\u2019s eternity\nany more than the subject of the contingent \u201cwhere\u201d is the virtuality of\nGod\u2019s immensity.\n\nThis shows that the formal \u201cwhen\u201d of a contingent being is a mere\nrelativity, or a _respectus_. The formal reason, or the foundation,\nof this relativity is the reality through which the contingent being\ncommunicates with absolute standing duration, viz.: the real instant\n(_quando_) which is common to both, although not in the same manner;\nfor it is _virtual_ in standing duration, whilst it is _formal_ in the\nextrinsic term. Hence a contingent being, inasmuch as it has existence in\nstanding duration, is nothing but a term related by its \u201cwhen\u201d to divine\neternity as existing in a more perfect manner in the same \u201cwhen.\u201d But,\nsince the contingent \u201cwhen\u201d of the creature exclusively belongs to the\ncreature itself, God\u2019s standing duration receives nothing from it except\na relative extrinsic denomination.\n\nThe relation resulting from the existence of a created term in standing\nduration consists in this: that the created term by its formal \u201cwhen\u201d\nreally imitates the eminent mode of being of God himself in the same\n\u201cwhen.\u201d This relation is called _simultaneousness_.\n\nSimultaneousness is often confounded with presence and with\nco-existence. But these three notions, rigorously speaking, differ from\none another. _Presence_ refers to terms in space; _simultaneousness_ to\nterms in duration; _co-existence_ to terms both present and simultaneous.\nThus presence and simultaneousness are the constituents of co-existence.\nPresence is to be considered as the material constituent, because it\ndepends on the \u201cwhere,\u201d which belongs to the thing on account of its\nmatter or potency; simultaneousness must be considered as the formal\nconstituent, because it depends on the \u201cwhen,\u201d which belongs to the thing\non account of its act or of its resulting actuality.\n\nBefore we proceed further, we must yet remark that in the same manner as\nthe infinite virtuality of divine immensity receives distinct extrinsic\ndenominations from the contingent terms existing in space, and is thus\nsaid to imply _distinct virtualities_, so also the infinite virtuality\nof God\u2019s eternity can be said to imply distinct virtualities, owing to\nthe distinct denominations it receives from distinct terms of contingent\nduration. It is for this reason that we can speak of virtualities of\neternity in the plural. Thus when we point out the first instant of any\nmovement as distinct from any following instant, we consider the flowing\nof the contingent \u201cwhen\u201d from _before_ to _after_ as a passage from one\nto another virtuality of standing duration. These virtualities, however,\nare not distinct as to their absolute beings, but only as to their\nextrinsic termination and denomination; and therefore they are really but\none infinite virtuality. As all that we have said of the virtualities\nof absolute space in one of our past articles equally applies to the\nvirtualities of absolute duration, we need not dwell here any longer on\nthis point.\n\n_Sixth question._--\u201cIn what does the \u2018when\u2019 of a contingent being\nprecisely consist?\u201d From the preceding considerations it is evident\nthat the \u201cwhen\u201d of a contingent being may be understood in two manners,\nviz., either _objectively_ or _subjectively_. Objectively considered,\nthe \u201cwhen\u201d is nothing else than _a simple and indivisible term in\nduration_ formally marked out in it by the actuality of the contingent\nbeing. We say _a simple and indivisible term_, because the actuality\nof the contingent being by which it is determined involves neither\npast nor future, neither _before_ nor _after_, but only its present\nexistence, which, as such, is confined to an indivisible _Now_. Hence\nwe do not agree with those philosophers who confound the _quando_ with\nthe _tempus_--that is, the \u201cwhen\u201d with the extent of flowing duration.\nWe admit with these philosophers that the \u201cwhen\u201d of contingent things\nextends through movement from _before_ to _after_, and draws, so to say,\na continuous line in duration; but we must remind them that the _before_\nand the _after_ are distinct modes of being in duration, and that every\nterm of duration designable between them is a distinct \u201cwhen\u201d independent\nof every other \u201cwhen,\u201d either preceding or following; which shows that\nthe _tempus_ implies an uninterrupted series of distinct \u201cwhens,\u201d and\ntherefore cannot be considered as synonymous with _quando_.\n\nIf the \u201cwhen\u201d is considered subjectively--that is, as an appurtenance of\nthe subject of which it is predicated--it may be defined as _the mode of\nbeing of a contingent thing in duration_. This mode consists of a mere\nrelativity; for it results from the extrinsic termination of absolute\nduration, as already explained. Hence the \u201cwhen\u201d 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 intervenes or lies between the one and the other.\n\nBut, although it consists of a mere relativity, the \u201cwhen\u201d still admits\nof being divided into _absolute_ and _relative_, according as it is\nconceived absolutely as something real in nature, or compared with\nsome other \u201cwhen\u201d; for, as we have already explained when treating of\nubications, relative entities may be considered both as to what they are\nin themselves, and as to what they are to one another.\n\nIf the \u201cwhen\u201d is considered simply as a termination of standing duration,\nwithout regard for anything else, it is called _absolute_, and is defined\nas _the mode of being of a thing in absolute duration_. This absolute\n\u201cwhen\u201d is an _essential mode_ of the contingent being no less than its\ndependence from the first cause, and is altogether immutable so long\nas the contingent being exists; for, on the one hand, the contingent\nbeing cannot exist but within the domain of divine eternity, and, on the\nother, it cannot have different modes of being with regard to it, as the\nstanding duration of eternity is all uniform in its infinite virtual\nextension, and the contingent being, however much we may try to vary its\nplace in duration, must always be in the very middle of eternity. Hence\nthe absolute \u201cwhen\u201d is altogether unchangeable.\n\nIf the \u201cwhen\u201d of a contingent being is compared with that of another\ncontingent being in order to ascertain their mutual relation, then the\n\u201cwhen\u201d is called _relative_, and, as such, it may be defined as _the mode\nof terminating a relation in duration_. This \u201cwhen\u201d is changeable, not\nin its intrinsic entity, but in its relative formality; and it is only\nunder this formality that the \u201cwhen\u201d (_quando_) 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 _before_ and the _after_ of the same contingent being are considered\nas two distinct relative terms, because the being to which they refer,\nwhen existing in the _after_, excludes the _before_; though the absolute\n\u201cwhen\u201d of one and the same being is one term only. But of this we shall\ntreat more fully in the sequel.\n\n_Seventh question._--\u201cWhat is relative duration?\u201d Here we meet again the\nsame difficulty which we have encountered in explaining relative space;\nfor in the same manner as relations in space are usually confounded\nwith space itself, so are the intervals in duration confounded with the\nduration which is the ground of their extension. But, as the reasonings\nby which we have established the precise notion of relative space can be\neasily brought to bear on the present subject by the reader himself, we\nthink we must confine ourselves to a brief and clear statement of the\nconclusions drawn from those reasonings, as applied to duration.\n\nRelative duration is _the duration through which any movement extends_;\nthat is, the duration through which the \u201cwhen\u201d of anything in movement\nglides from _before_ to _after_, and by which the _before_ and the\n_after_ are linked in mutual relation. Now, the duration through which\nmovement extends is not exactly the duration of the movement itself, but\nthe ground upon which the movement extends its own duration; because\nmovement has nothing actual but a flowing instant, and therefore it has\nno duration within itself except by reference to an extrinsic ground\nthrough which it successively extends. This ground, as we have already\nshown, is standing duration. And therefore relative duration is nothing\nelse than _standing duration as extrinsically terminated by distinct\nterms_, or, what amounts to the same terminated by one term which, owing\nto any kind of movement, acquires distinct and opposite formalities. This\nconclusion is based on the principle that the foundation of all relations\nbetween _before_ and _after_ must be something absolute, having in itself\nneither _before_ nor _after_, and therefore absolutely standing. This\nprinciple is obviously true. The popular notion, on the contrary, that\nrelative duration is the duration of movement, is based on the assumption\nthat movement itself engenders duration--which assumption is false;\nfor we cannot even conceive movement without presupposing the absolute\nduration upon which the movement has to trace the line of its flowing\nexistence.\n\nThus relative duration is called relative, not because it is itself\nrelated, but because it is the ground through which the extrinsic\nterms are related. It is actively, not passively, relative; it is the\n_ratio_, not the _rationatum_, the foundation, not the result, of the\nrelativities. In other terms, relative duration is absolute as to its\nentity, and relative as to the extrinsic denomination derived from the\nrelations of which it is the formal reason. Duration, as absolute, may\nbe styled \u201cthe region of all possible _whens_,\u201d just as absolute space is\nstyled \u201cthe region of all possible ubications\u201d; and, as relative, it may\nbe styled \u201cthe region of all possible succession,\u201d just as relative space\nis styled \u201cthe region of all local movements.\u201d Absolute standing duration\nand absolute space are the ground of the _here_ and _now_ as statical\nterms. Relative standing duration and relative space are the ground of\nthe _here_ and _now_ as gliding--that is, as dynamically considered.\n\n_Eighth question._--\u201cWhat is an interval of duration?\u201d It is a relation\nexisting between two opposite terms of succession--that is, between\n_before_ and _after_. An interval of duration is commonly considered as a\ncontinuous extension; yet it is primarily a simple relation by which the\nextension of the flowing from _before_ to _after_ is formally determined.\nNevertheless, since the \u201cwhen\u201d cannot acquire the opposite formalities,\n_before_ and _after_, without continuous movement, all interval of\nduration implies movement, and therefore may be considered also as a\ncontinuous quantity. Under this last aspect, the interval of duration is\nnothing else than the duration of the movement from _before_ to _after_.\n\nWe have already noticed that the duration of movement, or the interval\nof duration, is not to be confounded with the duration through which the\nmovement extends. But as, in the popular language, the one as well as the\nother is termed \u201crelative duration,\u201d we would suggest that the duration\nthrough which the movement extends might be called _fundamental_ relative\nduration, whilst the relation which constitutes an interval between\n_before_ and _after_ might be called _resultant_ relative duration.\n\nThe philosophical necessity of this distinction is obvious, first,\nbecause the _standing_ duration, through which movement extends, must not\nbe confounded with the _flowing_ duration of movement; secondly, because\nthe relation and its foundation are not the same thing, and, as we have\nexplained at length when treating of relative space, to confound the one\nwith the other leads to Pantheism. Intervals of relation are not _parts_\nof absolute duration, though they are so conceived by many, but they are\nmere relations, as we have stated. Absolute duration is all standing,\nit has no parts, and it cannot be divided into parts. What is called an\ninterval _of_ duration should rather be called an interval _in_ duration;\nfor it is not a portion of standing duration, but an extrinsic result;\nit is not a length of absolute duration, but the length of the movement\nextending through that duration; it is not a divisible extension, but the\nground on which movement acquires its divisible extension from _before_\nto _after_. In the smallest conceivable interval of duration there is\nGod, with all his eternity. To affirm that intervals of duration are\ndistinct durations would be to cut God\u2019s eternity to pieces by giving it\na distinct being in really distinct intervals. Hence it is necessary to\nconcede that, whilst the intervals are distinct, the duration on which\nthey have their foundation is one and the same. The only duration which\ncan be safely confounded with those intervals is the flowing duration of\nthe movement by which they are measured. This is the duration which can\nbe considered as a continuous quantity divisible into parts; and this is\nthe duration which we should style \u201c_resultant_ relative duration,\u201d to\navoid all danger of error or equivocation.\n\nThe objections which can be made against this manner of viewing things do\nnot much differ from those which we have solved in our second article on\nspace; and therefore we do not think it necessary to make a new answer\nto them. The reader himself will be able to see what the objections are,\nand how they can be solved, by simply substituting the words \u201ceternity,\u201d\n\u201cduration,\u201d etc., for the words \u201cimmensity,\u201d \u201cspace,\u201d etc., in the\narticle referred to.\n\nYet a special objection can be made against the preceding doctrine about\nthe duration of movement, independently of those which regard relations\nin space. It may be presented under this form. \u201cThe foundation of the\nrelation between _before_ and _after_ is nothing else than movement\nitself. It is therefore unnecessary and unphilosophical to trace the\nduration of movement to the virtuality of God\u2019s eternity as its extrinsic\nfoundation.\u201d The antecedent of this argument may be proved thus: \u201cThat\nthing is the foundation of the relation which gives to its terms their\nrelative being--that is, in our case, their opposite formalities,\n_before_ and _after_. But movement alone gives to the _when_ these\nopposite formalities. Therefore movement alone is the foundation of\nsuccessive duration.\u201d\n\nWe answer that the antecedent of the first argument is absolutely false.\nAs to the syllogism which comes next, we concede the major, but we deny\nthe minor. For it is plain that movement cannot give to the absolute\n_when_ the relative formalities _before_ and _after_, except by flowing\nthrough absolute duration, without which it is impossible for the\nmovement to have its successive duration. And surely, if the movement has\nno duration but that which it borrows from the absolute duration through\nwhich it extends, the foundation of its duration from _before_ to _after_\ncan be nothing else than the same absolute duration through which the\nmovement acquires its _before_ and _after_. Now, this absolute duration\nis the virtuality of God\u2019s eternity, as we have proved. It is therefore\nboth philosophical and necessary to trace the duration of movement to\nthe virtuality of God\u2019s eternity, as its extrinsic foundation. That\nmovement is also necessary to constitute the relation between _before_\nand _after_, we fully admit; for there cannot be _before_ and _after_\nwithout movement. But it does not follow from this that movement is\nthe _foundation_ of the relation; it merely follows that movement is\na _condition_ necessary to give to the absolute _when_ two distinct\nactualities, according to which it may be compared with itself on the\nground of standing duration. For, as every relation demands two opposite\nterms, the same absolute _when_ must acquire two opposite formalities,\nthat it may be related to itself.\n\nThe only other objection which may perhaps be made against our\nconclusions is the following: The foundation of a real relation is that\nreality through which the terms related communicate with one another.\nNow, evidently, the _before_ and the _after_, which are the terms of\nthe relation in question, communicate with one another through the same\nabsolute _when_; for they are the same absolute _when_ under two opposite\nformalities. Hence it follows that the foundation of the relation\nbetween _before_ and _after_ is nothing else than the absolute _when_ of\na moving being.\n\nTo this we answer that the foundation of the relation is not all reality\nthrough which the terms related communicate with one another, but only\nthat reality by the common termination of which they become formally\nrelated to one another. Hence, since the _before_ and the _after_ do\nnot receive their relative formalities from the absolute _when_, it\nis idle to pretend that the absolute _when_ is the foundation of the\ninterval of duration. The _before_ and the _after_ communicate with the\nsame absolute _when_ not as a formal, but as a material, cause of their\nexistence--that is, inasmuch as the same _when_ is the subject, not the\nreason, of both formalities. The only relation to which the absolute\n_when_ can give a foundation is one of identity with itself in all the\nextent of its flowing duration. But such a relation presupposes, instead\nof constituting, an interval in duration. And therefore it is manifest\nthat the absolute _when_ is not the foundation of the relation between\n_before_ and _after_.\n\nHaving thus answered the questions proposed, and given the solution of\nthe few difficulties objected, we must now say a few words about the\n_division_ and _measurement_ of relative duration, whether fundamental or\nresultant.\n\nFundamental or standing duration is divided into _real_ and _imaginary_.\nThis division cannot regard the entity of standing duration, which is\nunquestionably real, as we have proved. It regards the reality or the\nunreality of the extrinsic terms conceived as having a relation in\nduration. The true notion of real, contrasted with imaginary, duration,\nis the following: Standing duration is called _real_ when it is _really_\nrelative, viz., when it is extrinsically terminated by real terms\nbetween which it founds a real relation; on the contrary, it is called\n_imaginary_ when the extrinsic terms do not exist in nature, but only in\nour imagination; for, in such a case, standing duration is not really\nterminated and does not found real relations, but both the terminations\nand the relations are simply a figment of our imagination. Thus standing\nduration, as containing none but imaginary relations, may justly be\ncalled \u201cimaginary,\u201d though in an absolute sense it is intrinsically real.\nAccordingly, the _indefinite_ duration which we imagine when we carry\nour thought beyond the creation of the world, and which is also called\n\u201cimaginary,\u201d is not absolute but relative duration, and is not imaginary\nin itself, but only as to its denomination of relative, because, in the\nabsence of all real terms, there can be none but imaginary relations.\n\nIt is therefore unphilosophical to confound imaginary and indefinite\nduration with absolute and infinite duration. This latter is not an\nobject of imagination, but of the intellect alone. Imagination cannot\nconceive duration, except in connection with some movement from _before_\nto _after_; hence absolute and infinite duration, which has no _before_\nand no _after_, is altogether beyond the reach of imagination. Indeed,\nour intellectual conception of infinite standing duration is always\naccompanied in our minds by a representation of indefinite time; but\nthis depends, as we have stated in speaking of space, on the well-known\nconnection of our imaginative and intellectual operations, inasmuch\nas our imagination strives to follow the intellect, and to represent\nafter its own manner what the intellect conceives in a totally different\nmanner. It was by confounding the objective notion of duration with our\nsubjective manner of imagining it that Kant came to the conclusion that\nduration was nothing but a subjective form or a subjective condition,\nunder which all intuitions are possible in us. This conclusion is\nevidently false; but its refutation, to be successful, must be based on\nthe objectivity of absolute standing duration, without which, as we have\nshown, there can be no field for real and objective succession.\n\nResultant relative duration--that is, an interval of flowing\nduration--admits of the same division into _real_ and _imaginary_. It\nis real when a real continuous flowing connects the _before_ with the\n_after_; in all other suppositions it will be imaginary. It may be\nremarked that the \u201creal continuous flowing\u201d may be either intrinsic or\nextrinsic. Thus, if God had created nothing but a simple angel, there\nwould have been no other flowing duration than a continuous succession\nof intellectual operations connecting the _before_ with the _after_ in\nthe angel himself, and thus his duration would have been measured by a\nseries of intrinsic changes. It is evident that in this case one absolute\n_when_ suffices to extend the interval of duration; for by its gliding\nfrom _before_ to _after_ it acquires opposite formalities through which\nit can be relatively opposed to itself as the subject and the term of\nthe relation. If, on the contrary, we consider the interval of duration\nbetween two distinct beings--say C\u00e6sar and Napoleon--then the real\ncontinuous flowing by which such an interval is measured is extrinsic to\nthe terms compared; for the _when_ of C\u00e6sar is distinct from, and does\nnot reach, that of Napoleon; which shows that their respective _whens_\nhave no intrinsic connection, and that the succession comprised between\nthose _whens_ must have consisted of a series of changes extrinsic to\nthe terms compared. It may seem difficult to conceive how an interval of\ncontinuous succession can result between two terms of which the one does\nnot attain to the other; for, as a line in space must be drawn by the\nmovement of a single point, so it seems that a length in duration must be\nextended by the flowing of a single _when_ from _before_ to _after_. The\ntruth is that the interval between the _whens_ of two distinct beings is\nnot obtained by comparing the _when_ of the one with that of the other,\nbut by resorting to the _when_ of some other being which has extended its\ncontinuous succession from the one to the other. Thus, when C\u00e6sar died,\nthe earth was revolving on its axis, and it continued to revolve without\ninterruption up to the existence of Napoleon, thus extending the duration\nof its movement from a _when_ corresponding to C\u00e6sar\u2019s death to a _when_\ncorresponding to Napoleon\u2019s birth; and this duration, wholly extrinsic to\nC\u00e6sar and Napoleon, measures the interval between them.\n\nAs all intervals of duration extend from _before_ to _after_, there\ncan be no interval between co-existent beings, as is evident. In the\nsame manner as two beings whose ubications coincide cannot be distant\nin space, so two beings whose _whens_ are simultaneous cannot form an\ninterval of duration.\n\nAll real intervals of duration regard the past; for in the past alone\ncan we find a real _before_ and a real _after_. The present gives no\ninterval, as we have just stated, but only simultaneousness. The future\nis real only potentially--that is, it will be real, but it is not yet.\nWhat has never been, and never will be, is merely imaginary. To this\nlast class belong all the intervals of duration corresponding to those\nconditional events which did not happen, owing to the non-fulfilment of\nthe conditions on which their reality depended.\n\nAs to the measurement of flowing duration a few words will suffice. The\n_when_ considered absolutely is incapable of measuring an interval of\nduration, for the reason that the _when_ is unextended, and therefore\nunproportionate to the mensuration of a continuous interval; for the\nmeasure must be of the same kind with the thing to be measured. Just\nas a continuous line cannot be made up of unextended points, so cannot\na continuous interval be made up of indivisible instants; hence, as a\nline is divisible only into smaller and smaller lines, by which it can\nbe measured, so also an interval of duration is divisible only into\nsmaller and smaller intervals, and is measured by the same. These smaller\nintervals, being continuous, are themselves divisible and mensurable by\nother intervals of less duration, and these other intervals are again\ndivisible and mensurable; so that, from the nature of the thing, it is\nimpossible to reach an absolute measure of duration, and we must rest\nsatisfied with a relative one, just as in the case of a line and of any\nother continuous quantity. The smallest unit or measure of duration\ncommonly used is the second, or sixtieth part of a minute.\n\nBut, since continuous quantities are divisible _in infinitum_, it may be\nasked, what prevents us from considering a finite interval of duration\nas containing an infinite multitude of infinitesimal units of duration?\nIf nothing prevents us, then in the infinitesimal unit we shall have\nthe true and absolute measure of duration. We answer that nothing\nprevents such a conception; but the mensuration of a finite interval by\ninfinitesimal units would never supply us the means of determining the\nrelative lengths of two intervals of duration. For, if every interval is\na sum of infinite terms, and is so represented, how can we decide which\nof those intervals is the greater, since we cannot count the infinite?\n\nMathematicians, in all dynamical questions, express the conditions of the\nmovement in terms of infinitesimal quantities, and consider every actual\ninstant which connects the _before_ with the _after_ as an infinitesimal\ninterval of duration in the same manner as they consider every shifting\nubication as an infinitesimal interval of space. But when they pass from\ninfinitesimal to finite quantities by integration between determinate\nlimits, they do not express the finite intervals in infinitesimal terms,\nbut in terms of a finite unit, viz., a second of time; and this shows\nthat, even in high mathematics, the infinitesimal is not taken as the\nmeasure of the finite.\n\nSince infinitesimals are considered as evanescent quantities, the\nquestion may be asked whether they are still conceivable as quantities.\nWe have no intention of discussing here the philosophical grounds of\ninfinitesimal calculus, as we may have hereafter a better opportunity\nof examining such an interesting subject; but, so far as infinitesimals\nof duration are concerned, we answer that they are still quantities,\nthough they bear no comparison with finite duration. What mathematicians\ncall an infinitesimal of time is nothing else rigorously than the\nflowing of an actual \u201cwhen\u201d from _before_ to _after_. The \u201cwhen\u201d as\nsuch is no quantity, but its flowing is. However narrow the compass\nwithin which it may be reduced, the flowing implies a relation between\n_before_ and _after_; hence every instant of successive duration,\ninasmuch as it actually links its immediate _before_ with its immediate\n_after_, partakes of the nature of successive duration, and therefore\nof continuous quantity. Nor does it matter that infinitesimals are\ncalled _evanescent_ quantities. They indeed vanish, as compared with\nfinite quantities; but the very fact of their vanishing proves that they\nare still something when they are in the act of vanishing. Sir Isaac\nNewton, after saying in his _Principia_ that he intends to reduce the\ndemonstration of a series of propositions to the first and last sums and\nratios of nascent and evanescent quantities, propounds and solves this\nvery difficulty as follows: \u201cPerhaps it may be objected that there is no\nultimate proportion of evanescent quantities; because the proportion,\nbefore the quantities have vanished, is not the ultimate, and, when they\nare vanished, is none. But by the same argument it may be alleged that\na body arriving at a certain place, and there stopping, has no ultimate\nvelocity; because the velocity, before the body comes to the place, is\nnot its ultimate velocity; when it has arrived, is none. But the answer\nis easy; for by the ultimate velocity is meant that with which the body\nis moved, neither _before_ it arrives at its last place and the motion\nceases, nor _after_, but at the _very instant_ it arrives; that is,\nthe velocity with which the body arrives at its last place, and with\nwhich the motion ceases. And in like manner, by the ultimate ratio of\nevanescent quantities is to be understood the ratio of the quantities,\nnot before they vanish, not afterwards, but with which they vanish. In\nlike manner, the first ratio of nascent quantities is that with which\nthey begin to be.\u201d From this answer, which is so clear and so deep, it\nis manifest that infinitesimals are real quantities. Whence we infer\nthat every instant of duration which actually flows from _before_ to\n_after_ marks out a real infinitesimal interval of duration that might\nserve as a unit of measure for the mensuration of all finite intervals\nof succession, were it not that we cannot reckon up to infinity.\nNevertheless, it does not follow that an infinitesimal duration is an\nabsolute unit of duration; for it is still continuous, even in its\ninfinite smallness; and accordingly it is still divisible and mensurable\nby other units of a lower standard. Thus it is clear that the measurement\nof flowing duration, and indeed of all other continuous quantity, cannot\nbe made except by some arbitrary and conventional unit.\n\n\nTHE STARS.\n\n    As I gaze in silent wonder\n      On the countless stars of night,\n    Looking down in mystic stillness\n      With their soft and magic light\n\n    Seem they from my eyes retreating\n      With their vast and bright array,\n    Till they into endless distance\n      Almost seem to fade away.\n\n    And my thoughts are carried with them\n      To their far-off realms of light;\n    Yet they seem retreating ever,\n      Ever into endless night.\n\n    Whither leads that silent army,\n      With its noiseless tread and slow?\n    And those glittering bands, who are they?\n      Thus my thoughts essay to know.\n\n    But my heart the secret telleth\n      That to thee, my God, they guide;\n    That they are thy gleaming watchmen,\n      Guarding round thy palace wide.\n\n    Then, when shall those gates be opened\n      To receive my yearning soul,\n    Where its home shall be for ever,\n      While the countless ages roll?\n\n    Thou alone, O God! canst know it:\n      Till then doth my spirit pine.\n    Father! keep thy child from falling,\n      Till for ever I am thine.\n\n\nWILLIAM TELL AND ALTORF.\n\nBrunnen, the \u201cfort of Schwytz,\u201d standing at that angle of the lake of\nLucerne where it turns abruptly towards the very heart of the Alps,\nhas always been a central halting-place for travellers; but since the\nerection of its large hotel the attraction has greatly increased. We\nfound the Waldst\u00e4tterhof full to overflowing, and rejoiced that, as\nusual, we had wisely ordered our rooms beforehand. Our surprise was\ngreat, as we threaded the mazes of the _table-d\u2019h\u00f4te_ room, to see Herr\nH---- come forward and greet us cordially. We expected, it is true,\nto meet him here, but not until the eve of the feast at Einsiedeln,\nwhither he had promised to accompany us. An unforeseen event, however,\nhad brought him up the lake sooner, and he therefore came on to Brunnen,\nin the hope of finding us. A few minutes sufficed to make him quit his\nplace at the centre table and join us at a small one, where supper had\nbeen prepared for our party, and allow us to begin a description of our\nwanderings since we parted from him on the quay at Lucerne. Yes, \u201cbegin\u201d\nis the proper word; for before long the harmony was marred by George,\nwho, with his usual impetuosity, and in spite of Caroline\u2019s warning\nfrowns and Anna\u2019s and my appealing looks, betrayed our disappointment at\nhaving missed the Hermitage at Ranft, and the reproaches we had heaped on\nHerr H----\u2019s head for having mismanaged the programme in that particular.\nThe cheery little man, whose eyes had just begun to glisten with\ndelight, grew troubled.\n\n\u201cI am _so_ sorry!\u201d he exclaimed. \u201cBut the ladies were not so enthusiastic\nabout Blessed Nicholas when I saw them. And as for you, Mr. George, I\nnever could have dreamt you would have cared for the Hermit.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! but _he_ is a real historical character, you see, about whom there\ncan be no doubt--very unlike your sun-god, your mythical hero, William\nTell!\u201d replied George.\n\n\u201cTake care! take care! young gentleman,\u201d said Herr H----, laughing.\n\u201cRemember you are now in Tell\u2019s territory, and he may make you rue the\nconsequences of deriding him! Don\u2019t imagine, either, that your modern\nhistorical critics have left even Blessed Nicholas alone! Oh! dear, no.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut he is vouched for by documents,\u201d retorted George.\u201cNo one can doubt\nthem.\u201d\n\n\u201cYour critics of this age would turn and twist and doubt anything,\u201d said\nHerr H----. \u201cThey cannot deny his existence nor the main features of his\nlife; yet some have gone so far as to pretend to doubt the most authentic\nfact in it--his presence at the Diet of Stanz--saying that _probably_ he\nnever went there, but only wrote a letter to the deputies. So much for\ntheir criticism and researches! After that specimen you need not wonder\nthat I have no respect for them. But I am in an unusually patriotic\nmood to-day; for I have just come from a meeting at Beckenried, on\nthe opposite shore, in Unterwalden. It was that which brought me here\nbefore my appointment with you. It was a meeting of one of our Catholic\nsocieties in these cantons, which assembled to protest against the\nrevision of the constitution contemplated next spring. Before separating\nit was suggested that they should call a larger one at the R\u00fctli, to\nevoke the memories of the past and conform themselves to the pattern of\nour forefathers.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy do you so much object to a revision?\u201d inquired Mr. C----. \u201cSurely\nreform must sometimes be necessary.\u201d\n\n\u201cSometimes, of course, but not at present, my dear sir. \u2018Revision\u2019\nnowadays simply means radicalism and the suppression of our religion and\nour religious rights and privileges. It is a word which, for that reason\nalone, is at all times distasteful to these cantons. Moreover, it savors\ntoo much of French ideas and doctrines, thoroughly antagonistic to all\nour principles and feelings. Everything French is loathed in these parts,\nespecially in Unterwalden, in spite of--or I should perhaps rather say in\nconsequence of--all they suffered from that nation in 1798.\u201d\n\n\u201cI can understand that,\u201d said Mr. C----, \u201cwith the memory of the massacre\nin the church at Stanz always in their minds.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, yes; but that was only one act in the tragedy. The desolation they\ncaused in that part of the country was fearful. Above all, their total\nwant of religion at that period can never be forgotten.\u201d\n\n\u201cAs for myself,\u201d remarked Mr. C----, \u201cthough not a Catholic, I confess\nthat I should much rather rely on the upright instincts of this pious\npopulation than on the crooked teachings of our modern philosophers. I\nhave always noticed in every great political crisis that the instincts of\nthe pure and simple-minded have something of an inspiration about them;\nthey go straight to the true principles where a Macchiavelli is often at\nfault.\u201d Herr H---- completely agreed with him, and the conversation soon\nbecame a deep and serious discussion on the tendencies of modern politics\nin general, so that it was late that evening before our party separated.\n\nThe first sound that fell upon my ear next morning was the splashing of\na steamer hard by. It had been so dark upon our arrival the night before\nthat we had not altogether realized the close proximity of the hotel to\nthe lake, and it was an unexpected pleasure to find my balcony almost\ndirectly over the water, like the stern gallery of a ship of war. A\nsmall steamer certainly was approaching from the upper end of the lake,\nwith a time-honored old diligence in the bows and a few travellers,\ntired-looking and dust-stained, scattered on the deck, very unlike the\nbrilliant throngs that pass to and fro during the late hours of the\nday. But this early morning performance was one of real business, and\nthe magical words \u201cPost\u201d and \u201cSt. Gothard,\u201d which stood out in large\nletters on the yellow panels of the diligence, told at once of more than\nmere pleasure-seeking. What joy or grief, happiness or despair, might\nnot this old-fashioned vehicle be at this moment conveying to unknown\nthousands! It was an abrupt transition, too, to be thus brought from\npastoral Sarnen and Sachslen into immediate contact with the mighty Alps.\nOf their grandeur, however, nothing could be seen; for, without rain\nor wind, a thick cloud lay low upon the lake, more like a large flat\nceiling than aught else. Yet, for us, it had its own peculiar interest,\nbeing nothing more nor less than the great, heavy, soft mass which we\nhad noticed hanging over the lake every morning when looking down from\nKaltbad, whilst we, revelling in sunshine and brightness above, were\npitying the poor inhabitants along the shore beneath. There was a kind\nof superiority, therefore, in knowing what it meant, and in feeling\nconfident that it would not last long. And, as we expected, it did clear\naway whilst we sat at our little breakfast-table in the window, revealing\nin all its magnificence the glorious view from this point up the Bay of\nUri, which we have elsewhere described. Huge mountains seemed to rise\nvertically up out of the green waters; verdant patches were dotted here\nand there on their rugged sides; and, overtopping all, shone the glacier\nof the Urirothstock, more dazzlingly white and transparent than we had\never yet beheld it.\n\n\u201cNow, ladies!\u201d exclaimed Herr H----, \u201cI hope you have your Schiller\nready; for the R\u00fctli is yonder, though you will see it better by and by.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, I thought you disapproved of Schiller,\u201d retorted the irrepressibly\nargumentative George.\n\n\u201cTo a certain degree, no doubt,\u201d replied Herr H----. \u201cBut nothing can\nbe finer than his _William Tell_ as a whole. My quarrel with it is that\nthe real William Tell would have fared much better were it not for this\nplay, and especially for the opera. They have both made the subject so\ncommon--so _banale_, as the French say--that the world has grown tired\nof it, and for this reason alone is predisposed to reject our hero.\nBesides, the real history of the Revolution is so fine that I prefer it\nin its simplicity. Schiller is certainly true to its spirit, but details\nare frequently different. For instance, the taking of the Castle of the\nRossberg, which you passed on the lake of Alpnach: Schiller has converted\nthat into a most sensational scene, whereas the true story is far more\ncharacteristic. That was the place where a young girl admitted her\nbetrothed and his twelve Confederate friends by a rope-ladder at night,\nwhich enabled them to seize the castle and imprison the garrison \u201cwithout\nshedding a drop of blood or injuring the property of the Habsburgs,\u201d in\nexact conformity with their oath on the R\u00fctli. You will often read of\nthe loves of J\u00e4geli and Ameli in Swiss poetry. They are great favorites,\nand, in my opinion, far more beautiful than the fictitious romance\nof Rudenz and Bertha. And so in many other cases. But every one does\nnot object to Schiller as I do; for in 1859, when his centenary was\ncelebrated in Germany, the Swiss held a festival here on the R\u00fctli,\nand subsequently erected a tablet on that large natural pyramidal rock\nyou see at the corner opposite. It is called the Wytenstein, and you\ncan read the large gilt words with a glass. It is laconic enough, too;\nsee: \u2018To Frederick Schiller--The Singer of Tell--The Urcantone.\u2019 The\noriginal cantons! Miss Caroline! let me congratulate you on being at last\nin the \u2018Urschweiz\u2019--the cradle of Switzerland,\u201d continued Herr H----,\nas we sauntered out on the quay, pointing at the same time to some bad\nfrescos of Swen and Suiter on a warehouse close by. Stauffacher, F\u00fcrst,\nand Van der Halden also figured on the walls--the presiding geniuses\nof this region. \u201cBrunnen is in no way to be despised, I assure you,\nladies; you are treading on venerated soil. This is the very spot that\nwitnessed the foundation of the Confederacy, where the oath was taken\nby the representatives of Uri, Schwytz, and Unterwalden the day after\nthe battle of Morgarten. They swore \u2018to die, each for all and all for\neach\u2019--the oath which made Switzerland renowned, and gave the name of\n\u2018Ridsgenossen,\u2019 or \u2018oath-participators,\u2019 to its inhabitants. The document\nis still kept in the archives at Schwytz, with another dated August 1,\n1291. Aloys von Reding raised his standard against the French here in\n1798; and he was quite right in beginning his resistance to them at\nBrunnen. It is full of memories to us Swiss, and is a most central point,\nas you may see, between all these cantons. The increase in the hotels\ntells what a favorite region it also is with tourists.\u201d\n\nOn this point Mr. and Mrs. C----\u2019s astonishment was unbounded. They\nhad passed a fortnight at Brunnen in 1861, at a small inn with scanty\naccommodation, now replaced by the large and comfortable Waldst\u00e4tterhof,\nsituated in one of the most lovely spots imaginable, at the angle of\nthe lake, one side fronting the Bay of Uri and the other looking up\ntowards Mount Pilatus. The _pension_ of Seelisberg existed on the heights\nopposite even then--only, however, as a small house, instead of the\npresent extensive establishment, with its pretty woods and walks; but\nAxenstein and the second large hotel now building near it, with the\nsplendid road leading up to them, had not been thought of. The only\ncommunication by land between Schwytz and Fluelen, in those days, was\na mule-path along the hills, precipitous and dangerous in many parts.\nThe now famed Axenstrasse was not undertaken until 1862; and is said to\nhave been suggested by the French war in Italy. With the old Swiss dread\nof the French still at heart, the Federal government took alarm at that\nfirst military undertaking on the part of Napoleon III., and, seeing\nthe evil of having no communication between these cantons in case of\nattack, at once took the matter seriously in hand. This great engineering\nachievement was opened to the public in 1868. It looked most inviting\nto-day, and we quickly decided to make use of it by driving along it to\nFluelen, and thence to Altorf, returning in the evening by the steamer.\nSome were anxious to visit the R\u00fctli; but Mr. and Mrs. C---- had been\nthere before, and knew that it was more than an hour\u2019s expedition\nby boat, so that the two excursions on the same day would be quite\nimpossible; consequently, we chose the longer one.\n\nIt was just ten o\u2019clock when we started; Mrs. C----, Caroline, Herr\nH----, and myself in one carriage, with George on the box, the others\nfollowing us in a second vehicle. We had not proceeded far when Herr\nH---- made us halt to look at the R\u00fctli, on the shore right opposite. We\ndistinctly saw that it was a small meadow, formed by earth fallen from\nabove on a ledge of rock under the precipitous heights of Seelisberg,\nand now enclosed by some fine chestnut and walnut trees. Truly, it was\na spot fitted for the famous scene. So unapproachable is it, except by\nwater, that even that most enterprising race--Swiss hotel-keepers--have\nhitherto failed to destroy it. Some years ago, however, it narrowly\nescaped this fate; for Herr M\u00fcller, of Seelisberg, is said to have been\non the point of building a _pension_ on the great meadow. But no sooner\ndid this become known than a national subscription was at once raised,\nthe government purchased it, and now it has become inalienable national\nproperty for ever.\n\n\u201cYou may well be proud of your country, Herr H----,\u201d exclaimed Mr.\nC---- from the other carriage. \u201cI always look on that tiny spot with\ndeep reverence as the true cradle of freedom. Look at it well, George!\nIt witnessed that wonderful oath by which these mountaineers bound\nthemselves \u2018to be faithful to each other, just and merciful to their\noppressors\u2019--the only known example of men--and these men peasants,\ntoo--binding themselves, in the excitement of revolt, not to take revenge\non their oppressors.\u201d\n\n\u201cQuite sublime!\u201d ejaculated George.\n\n\u201cWell, it has borne good fruit,\u201d returned Herr H---- in gleeful tones;\n\u201cfor here we are still free! Except on the one occasion of the French in\n\u201998, no foreign troops have ever invaded this part of Switzerland since\nthose days. Yes, there are three springs at the R\u00fctli, supposed to have\njutted forth where the three heroes stood; but I do not pledge my word\nfor that,\u201d he answered smilingly to Caroline, \u201cnor for the legend which\nsays that their spirits sleep in the rocky vale under Seelisberg, ready\nto come forth and lead the people in moments of danger.\u201d\n\n\u201cI hope their slumbers may never be disturbed,\u201d she replied; \u201cbut I wish\nsome one would prevent these cattle from frightening the horses,\u201d as a\nlarge drove swept past our carriages, making our steeds nervous. Splendid\nanimals they were, with beautiful heads, straight backs, light limbs, and\nof a grayish mouse color.\n\n\u201cAll of the celebrated Schwytz breed,\u201d said Herr H----. \u201cThis part of\nthe country is renowned for its cattle. Each of these probably cost from\nfive to six hundred francs. The Italians take great advantage of this new\nroad, and come in numbers to buy them at this season, when the cattle\nare returning from the mountains. These are going across the St. Gothard\nto Lombardy. Those of Einsiedeln are still considered the best. Do you\nremember, Miss Caroline, that the first mention of German authority in\nthis land was occasioned by a dispute between the shepherds of Schwytz\nand the abbots of Einsiedeln about their pasturage--the emperor having\ngiven a grant of land to the abbey, while the Schwytzers had never heard\nof his existence even, and refused to obey his majesty\u2019s orders?\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! what historical animals: that quite reconciles me to them,\u201d she\nanswered, as we drove on again amongst a group that seemed very uneasy\nunder their new masters, whose sweet language George averred had no power\nover them.\n\nWho can describe the exquisite beauty of our drive?--winding in and\nout, sometimes through a tunnel; at others along the edge of the high\nprecipice from which a low parapet alone separated us; at another passing\nthrough the village of Sisikon, which years ago suffered severely from a\nfragment of rock fallen from the Frohnalp above. Time flew rapidly, and\none hour and a half had glided by, without our perceiving it, when we\ndrew up before the beautiful little inn of \u201cTell\u2019s Platte.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut there is no Platform here,\u201d cried George. \u201cWe are hundreds of feet\nabove the lake. The critics are right, Herr H----, decidedly right! I\nknew it from the beginning. How can you deny it?\u201d\n\n\u201cWait, my young friend! Don\u2019t be so impatient. Just come into the inn\nfirst--I should like you to see the lovely view from it; and then we can\nlook for the Platform.\u201d Saying which, he led us upstairs, on through the\n_salon_ to its balcony on the first floor. This is one of the smaller\ninns of that olden type which boast the enthusiastic attachment of\nregular customers, and display with pride that old institution--the\n\u201cstrangers\u2019 book\u201d--which has completely vanished from the monster hotels.\nIt lay open on the table as we passed, and every one instinctively\nstopped to examine it.\n\n\u201cThe dear old books!\u201d exclaimed Mrs. C----. \u201cHow they used to amuse me in\nSwitzerland! I have missed them so much this time. Their running fire of\nnotes, their polyglot verses--a sort of album and scrap-book combined,\nfull, too, of praise or abuse of the last hotel, as the humor might be.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d said Mr. C----, \u201cI shall never forget the preface to one--an\nimprecation on whoever might be tempted to let his pen go beyond bounds.\nI learned it by rote:\n\n    \u201cMay the mountain spirits disturb his slumbers;\n    May his limbs be weary, and his feet sore;\n    May the innkeepers give him tough mutton and\n    Sour wine, and charge him for it as though he were\n    Lord Sir John, M.P.!\u201d\n\n\u201cHow very amusing!--a perfect gem in its way,\u201d cried Anna. \u201cLord Sir\nJohn, M.P., must have been the model of large-pursed Britons in his\ntime.\u201d Here, however, everything seemed to be _couleur de rose_. The\nbook\u2019s only fault was its monotony of praise. Two sisters keep the hotel,\nand \u201cnowhere,\u201d said its devoted friends, \u201ccould one find better fare,\nbetter attendance, and greater happiness than at Tell\u2019s Platform.\u201d The\ntestimony of a young couple confessedly on their bridal tour had no\nweight. We know how, at that moment, a barren rock transforms itself into\na paradise for them; but three maiden ladies had passed six weeks of\nunalloyed enjoyment here once upon a time, and had returned often since;\nEnglish clergymen and their families found no words of praise too strong;\nwhile German students and professors indulged in rhapsodical language not\nto be equalled out of fatherland.\n\nDuchesses, princesses, and Lords Sir John, M.P., were alone wanting\namongst the present guests. \u201cBut they come,\u201d said Herr H----, \u201cby the\nmid-day steamers, dine and rest here awhile, and return in the evenings\nto the larger hotels in other places.\u201d\n\nAnd standing on the balcony of the _salon_, facing all the grand\nmountains, with the green lake beneath, it truly seemed a spot made for\nbrides and bridegrooms, for love and friendship. So absorbed were we in\nadmiration of the enchanting view that we did not at first notice two\nlittle maidens sitting at the far end. They were pretty children, of nine\nand thirteen, daughters of an English family stopping here, and their\ncountenances brightened as they heard our exclamation of delight; for\nTell\u2019s Platte was to them a paradise. Like true Britons, however, they\nsaid nothing until George and Caroline commenced disputing about the\nscenery. Comment then was irresistible. \u201cNo,\u201d said the youngest, \u201cthat\nis the Isenthal,\u201d pointing to a valley beneath the hills opposite; \u201cand\nthat the Urirothstock, with its glacier above, and the G\u00fctschen. Those\nstraight walls of rock below are the Teufel\u2019s-M\u00fcnster.\u201d\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t you remember where Schiller says:\n\n    \u2018The blast, rebounding from the Devil\u2019s Minster,\n      Has driven them back on the great Axenberg\u2019?\n\nThat is it, and this here is the Axenberg,\u201d said Emily, the elder girl.\n\n\u201cBut I see no Platform here,\u201d remarked George with mischief in his eye,\nas he quickly detected the young girl\u2019s faith in the hero.\n\n\u201cIt would be impossible to see it,\u201d she rejoined, \u201cas it is three hundred\nfeet below this house.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut we can show you the way, if you will come,\u201d continued the younger\nchild, taking George\u2019s hand, who, partly from surprise and partly\namusement, allowed himself to be led like a lamb across the road and\nthrough the garden to the pathway winding down the cliff, followed by us,\nunder guidance of the elder sister, Emily.\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d the children answered, \u201cthey had spent the last two years in\nFrance and Germany.\u201d And certainly they spoke both languages like\nnatives. Emily was even translating _William Tell_ into English blank\nverse. \u201cHeigho!\u201d sighed Mr. C----, \u201cfor this precocious age.\u201d But the\nlake of the Forest Cantons was dearer to them than all else. They had\nclimbed one thousand feet up the side of the Frohnalpstock that very\nmorning with their father; knew every peak and valley, far and near,\nwith all their legends and histories; even the _ranz des vaches_ and\nthe differences between them--the shepherds\u2019 calls to the cows and the\ngoats. Annie, our smaller friend, entertained George with all their\nvarieties, as she tripped daintily along, like a little fairy, with\nher tiny alpenstock. Very different was she from continental children,\nwho rarely, if ever, take interest in either pastoral or literary\nmatters. She knew the way to the platform well; for did she not go up\nand down it many times a day? A difficult descent it was, too--almost\nperpendicular--notwithstanding the well-kept pathway; but not dangerous\nuntil we reached the bottom, when each one in turn had to jump on to a\njutting piece of rock, in order to get round the corner into the chapel.\nMost truly it stands on a small ledge, with no inch of room for aught but\nthe small building raised over it. The water close up to the shore is\nsaid to be eight hundred feet deep, and it made one shudder to hear Herr\nH----\u2019s story of an artist who a few years ago fell into the lake while\nsketching on the cliffs above. Poor man! forgetful of the precipice, he\nhad thoughtlessly stepped back a few steps to look at his painting, fell\nover, and was never seen again. His easel and painting alone remained to\ngive pathetic warning to other rash spirits.\n\nThe chapel, open on the side next the water, is covered with faded\nfrescos of Tell\u2019s history, which our little friends quaintly described;\nand it contains, besides, an altar and a small pulpit. Here Mass is said\nonce a year on the Friday after the Ascension, when all the people of\nthe neighborhood come hither, and from their boats, grouped outside,\nhear Mass and the sermon preached to them from the railing in front.\nThis was the feast which my Weggis guide so much desired to see. It is\nunique in every particular, and Herr H---- was eloquent on the beauty and\nimpressiveness of the scene, at which he had once been present, and which\nit was easy to understand amidst these magnificent surroundings. Nor is\nit a common gathering of peasants, but a solemn celebration, to which the\nauthorities of Uri come in state with the standard of Uri--the renowned\nUri ox--floating at the bows. As may be supposed, the sermon is always\nnational, touching on all those points of faith, honor, and dignity which\nconstitute true patriotism. Mr. C---- had Murray\u2019s guide-book in his\nhand, and would not allow us to say another word until he read aloud Sir\nJames Macintosh\u2019s remarks on this portion of the lake, which there occur\nas follows:\n\n    \u201cThe combination of what is grandest in nature with whatever is\n    pure and sublime in human conduct affected me in this passage\n    (along the lake) more powerfully than any scene which I had\n    ever seen. Perhaps neither Greece nor Rome would have had such\n    power over me. They are dead. The present inhabitants are a\n    new race, who regard with little or no feeling the memorials\n    of former ages. This is, perhaps, the only place on the globe\n    where deeds of pure virtue, ancient enough to be venerable,\n    are consecrated by the religion of the people, and continue\n    to command interest and reverence. No local superstition so\n    beautiful and so moral anywhere exists. The inhabitants of\n    Thermopyl\u00e6 or Marathon know no more of these famous spots than\n    that they are so many square feet of earth. England is too\n    extensive a country to make Runnymede an object of national\n    affection. In countries of industry and wealth the stream of\n    events sweeps away these old remembrances. The solitude of\n    the Alps is a sanctuary destined for the monuments of ancient\n    virtue; Gr\u00fctli and Tell\u2019s chapel are as much reverenced by\n    the Alpine peasants as Mecca by a devout Mussulman; and the\n    deputies of the three ancient cantons met, so late as the year\n    1715, to renew their allegiance and their oaths of eternal\n    union.\u201d\n\n\u201cAll very well,\u201d said George, \u201cif there really had been a Tell; but\nthis seems to me a body without a soul. Why, this very chapel is in the\nItalian style, and never could have been founded by the one hundred and\ntwenty contemporaries who are said to have known Tell and to have been\npresent at its consecration.\u201d\n\n\u201cI never heard that any one insisted on this being the original\nbuilding,\u201d said Herr H----. \u201cIt is probably an improvement on it;\nbut it was not the fashion in those times--for people were not then\nincredulous--to put up tablets recording changes and renovations,\nas nowadays at Kaltbad and Kl\u00f6sterle, for instance. But speaking\ndispassionately, Mr. George, it seems to me quite impossible that the\nintroduction of any legend from Denmark or elsewhere could have taken\nsuch strong hold of a people like these mountaineers without some\nsolid foundation, especially here, where every inhabitant is known to\nthe other, and the same families have lived on in the same spots for\ncenturies. Why is it not just as likely that the same sort of event\nshould have occurred in more than one place? And as to its not being\nmentioned in the local documents, that is not conclusive either; for we\nall know how careless in these respects were the men of the middle ages,\nabove all in a rude mountain canton of this kind. Transmission by word of\nmouth and by religious celebrations is much more in character with those\ntimes. I go heart and hand with your own Buckle, who places so much\nreliance on local traditions. The main argument used against the truth\nof the story is, you know, that it was first related in detail by an old\nchronicler called \u00c6gidius Tschudi, a couple of hundred years after the\nevent. But I see nothing singular in that; for most probably he merely\ncommitted to writing, with all the freshness of simplicity, the story\nwhich, for the previous two hundred years, had been in the hearts and\non the lips of the peasants of this region. No invention of any writer\ncould have founded chapels or have become ingrained in the hearts of the\nlocality itself in the manner this story has done. It was never doubted\nuntil the end of the last century, when a Prof. Freudenberger, of Bern,\nwrote a pamphlet entitled _William Tell: a Danish Fable_.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d broke in little Emily, latest translator of Schiller, and who had\nbeen listening attentively to our discussion, \u201cand the people of the\nforest cantons were so indignant that the authorities of Uri had the\npamphlet burned by the common hangman, and then they solemnly proclaimed\nits author an outlaw.\u201d\n\n\u201cI told you, Mr. George, that you were on dangerous ground here,\u201d said\nHerr H----, laughing.\n\n\u201cI must make him kiss this earth before he leaves,\u201d said Mrs. C----, \u201cas\nI read lately of a mother making her little son do when passing here\nearly in this century, regarding it as a spot sacred to liberty. She\nlittle thought a sceptic like you would so soon follow.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell! I am _almost_ converted,\u201d he answered, smiling, \u201cbut I wish Miss\nEmily would tell us the story of Tell\u2019s jumping on shore here,\u201d trying to\ndraw out the enthusiastic little prodigy.\n\n\u201cOh! don\u2019t you remember that magnificent passage in Schiller where,\nafter the scene of shooting at the apple, Gessler asked Tell why he put\nthe second arrow into his quiver, and then, promising to spare his life\nif he revealed its object, evades his promise the instant he hears that\nit was destined to kill him if Tell had struck his son instead of the\napple? He then ordered him to be bound and taken on board his vessel at\nFluelen. The boat had no sooner left Fluelen than one of those sudden\nstorms sprang up so common hereabouts. There was one two days ago. Annie\nand I tried to come down here, but it was impossible--the wind and waves\nwere so high we could not venture, so we sat on the pathway and read out\nSchiller. Oh! he is a great genius. He never was in Switzerland. Yes!\njust fancy that; and yet he describes everything to perfection. Well!\nTell was as good a pilot as a marksman, and Gessler, in his fright, again\npromised to take off his fetters if he would steer the vessel safely. He\ndid, but steered them straight towards this ledge of rock, sprang out\nupon it, climbed up the cliff, and, rushing through the country, arrived\nat the Hohle-Gasse near K\u00fcssnacht before the tyrant had reached it.\u201d\n\n\u201cSchiller decidedly has his merit, it must be confessed, when he can get\nsuch ardent admirers as these pretty children,\u201d said Herr H---- when we\nbade farewell to our dear little friends.\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d answered the incorrigible George from the box seat, \u201cpoetry,\npoetry!--an excellent mode of transmitting traditions, making them\nindelible on young minds; but I am so far converted, Herr H----,\u201d\ncontinued he, laughing, \u201cthat I am sorry the doubts were ever raised\nabout the Tell history. It is in wonderful keeping with the place and\npeople, and it will be a great pity if _they_ give it up. \u2018Se non \u00e8 vero,\n\u00e8 ben trovato,\u2019[12] at least.\u201d\n\nHence onwards to Fluelen is the finest portion of the Axenstrasse, and\nthe opening views of the valley of the Reuss and the Bristenstock,\nthrough the arches of the galleries or tunnels, every minute increased\nin beauty. Several of us got out the better to enjoy them, sending the\ncarriages on ahead. The Schwytz cattle had quite escaped our memories,\nwhen suddenly a bell sounded round a sharp angle of the road and a large\ndrove instantly followed.\n\nA panic seized us ladies. The cliff rose vertically on the inner side,\nwithout allowing us the possibility of a clamber, and in our fright,\nbefore the gentlemen could prevent us, we leaped over a low railing,\nwhich there served as a parapet, on to a ledge of rock, a few yards\nsquare, rising straight up from the lake hundreds of feet below. All\nrecollection of their historical interest vanished from our minds; for,\nas the cattle danced along, they looked as scared and wild as ourselves,\nand it was not until they had passed without noticing us, and that their\ndark-eyed masters had spoken some soft Italian words to us, that we fully\nrealized the extent of our imprudence. Had any one of these animals\njumped up over the railing, as we afterwards heard they have sometimes\ndone, who can say what might not have happened? Fortunately, no harm\nensued beyond a flutter of nerves, which betrayed itself by Anna\u2019s\nturning round to a set of handsome goats that soon followed the cattle,\ncrying out to them in her own peculiar German: \u201cNix kommen! nix kommen!\u201d\n\nFluelen has nothing to show beyond the picturesqueness of a village\nsituated in such scenery and a collection of lumbering diligences and\ncountless carriages, awaiting the hourly arrival of the steamers from\nLucerne. The knell of these old diligences, however, has tolled, for the\nSt. Gothard Railway tunnel has been commenced near Arnsty, and though\nit may require years to finish it, its \u201copening day\u201d will surely come.\nHalf an hour\u2019s drive up the lovely valley brought us to Altorf, at the\nfoot of the Gr\u00fcnwald, which, in accord with its name, is clothed with a\nvirgin forest, now called the \u201cBann forest,\u201d because so useful is it in\nprotecting the town from avalanches and landslips that the Uri government\nnever permits it to be touched. Altorf, like so many of the capitals in\nthese forest cantons, has a small population, 2,700 inhabitants only,\nbut it has many good houses, for it was burnt down in 1799 and rebuilt\nin a better manner. Tell\u2019s story forms its chief interest, and certainly\ndid so in our eyes. We rushed at once to the square, where one fountain\nis said to mark the spot where Tell took aim, and another that upon\nwhich his boy stood. Tradition says that the latter one replaced the\nlime-tree against which the son leant, portions of which existed until\n1567. A paltry plaster statue of the hero is in the same square, but the\nmost remarkable relic of antiquity is an old tower close by, which Herr\nH---- assured us is proved by documents to have been built before 1307,\nthe date of Tell\u2019s history. Had the young friends we left at \u201cTell\u2019s\nPlatform\u201d accompanied us hither, Emily might have quoted Schiller to\nus at length. But George, having recently bought a Tauchnitz edition\nof Freeman\u2019s _Growth of the English Constitution_, which opens with a\nfine description of the annual elections of this canton, he earnestly\npleaded a prolongation of our drive to the spot where this takes place,\nthree miles further inland. Accordingly, after ordering dinner to be\nready on our return at a hotel which was filled with Tell pictures, and\nan excellent one of the festival at the Platform, we left the town and\nproceeded up the valley. Soon we crossed a stream, the same, Herr H----\ntold us, in which Tell is said to have been drowned while endeavoring to\nsave a child who had fallen into it. He also pointed out to us B\u00fcrglen,\nhis home, and an old tower believed to have been his house, attached to\nwhich there is now a small ivy-clad chapel. It stands at the opening\nof the Sch\u00e4chen valley, celebrated to this day for its fine race of\nmen--likewise corresponding in this respect with the old tradition.\nBut more modern interest attaches to this valley, for it was along its\ncraggy sides and precipices that Suwarow\u2019s army made its way across the\nKinzig-Kulm to the Muotta. The whole of this region was the scene of\nfearful fighting--first between the French and the Austrians, who were\nassisted by the natives of Uri, in 1799, and then, a month later, between\nthe Russians coming up from Lombardy and the French.\n\n\u201cThat was the age of real fighting,\u201d said Herr H----, \u201chand-to-hand\nfighting, without _mitrailleuses_ or long ranges. But the misery it\nbrought this quarter was not recovered from for years after. Altorf\nwas burnt down at that time, and everything laid waste. The memory of\nthe trouble lingers about here even yet. What wonder! Certainly, in\nall Europe no more difficult fighting ground could have been found. In\nthe end, the French General Lecourbe was all but cut off, for he had\ndestroyed every boat on the lake; in those days a most serious matter,\nas neither steamers nor Axenstrasse existed. When he therefore wished to\npursue the Russians, who by going up this Sch\u00e4chen valley intended to\njoin their own corps, supposed to be at Z\u00fcrich, he too was obliged to\nmake a bold man\u0153uvre. And then it was that he led his army by torchlight\nalong the dangerous mule-path on the Axenberg! Sad and dreadful times\nthey were for these poor cantons.\u201d\n\nHerr H---- showed us Attinghausen, the birth-place of Walter F\u00fcrst, and\nthe ruins of a castle near, which is the locality of a fine scene in\nSchiller, but the last owner of which died in 1357, and is known to have\nbeen buried in his helmet and spurs. Shortly after, about three miles\nfrom Altorf, we reached the noted field, and George, opening Freeman,\nread us the following passage aloud:\n\n    \u201cYear by year, on certain spots among the dales and the\n    mountain-sides of Switzerland, the traveller who is daring\n    enough to wander out of beaten tracks and to make his journey\n    at unusual seasons, may look on a sight such as no other corner\n    of the earth can any longer set before him. He may there gaze\n    and feel, what none can feel but those who have seen with their\n    own eyes, what none can feel in its fulness more than once in a\n    lifetime--the thrill of looking for the first time face to face\n    on freedom in its purest and most ancient form. He is there in\n    a land where the oldest institutions of our race--institutions\n    which may be traced up to the earliest times of which history\n    or legend gives us any glimmering--still live on in their\n    primeval freshness. He is in a land where an immemorial\n    freedom, a freedom only less eternal than the rocks that guard\n    it, puts to shame the boasted antiquity of kingly dynasties,\n    which, by its side, seem but as innovations of yesterday.\n    There, year by year, on some bright morning of the springtide,\n    the sovereign people, not entrusting its rights to a few of\n    its own number, but discharging them itself in the majesty of\n    its corporate person, meets, in the open market-place or in\n    the green meadow at the mountain\u2019s foot, to frame the laws\n    to which it yields obedience as its own work, to choose the\n    rulers whom it can afford to greet with reverence as drawing\n    their commission from itself. Such a sight there are but few\n    Englishmen who have seen; to be among these few I reckon among\n    the highest privileges of my life. Let me ask you to follow me\n    in spirit to the very home and birth-place of freedom, to the\n    land where we need not myth and fable to add aught to the fresh\n    and gladdening feeling with which we for the first time tread\n    the soil and drink in the air of the immemorial democracy of\n    Uri. It is one of the opening days of May; it is the morning\n    of Sunday; for men there deem that the better the day the\n    better the deed; they deem that the Creator cannot be more\n    truly honored than in using in his fear and in his presence the\n    highest of the gifts which he has bestowed on man. But deem not\n    that, because the day of Christian worship is chosen for the\n    great yearly assembly of a Christian commonwealth, the more\n    directly sacred duties of the day are forgotten. Before we,\n    in our luxurious island, have lifted ourselves from our beds,\n    the men of the mountains, Catholics and Protestants alike,\n    have already paid the morning\u2019s worship in God\u2019s temple. They\n    have heard the Mass of the priest or they have listened to the\n    sermon of the pastor, before some of us have awakened to the\n    fact that the morn of the holy day has come. And when I saw\n    men thronging the crowded church, or kneeling, for want of\n    space within, on the bare ground beside the open door, when I\n    saw them marching thence to do the highest duties of men and\n    citizens, I could hardly forbear thinking of the saying of\n    Holy Writ, that \u2018where the spirit of the Lord is, there is\n    liberty.\u2019 From the market-place of Altorf, the little capital\n    of the canton, the procession makes its way to the place of\n    meeting at B\u00f6zlingen. First marches the little army of the\n    canton, an army whose weapons never can be used save to drive\n    back an invader from their land. Over their heads floats the\n    banner, the bull\u2019s-head of Uri, the ensign which led men to\n    victory on the fields of Sempach and Morgarten. And before\n    them all, on the shoulders of men clad in a garb of ages past,\n    are borne the famous horns, the spoils of the wild bull of\n    ancient days, the very horns whose blast struck such dread into\n    the fearless heart of Charles of Burgundy. Then, with their\n    lictors before them, come the magistrates of the commonwealth\n    on horseback, the chief-magistrate, the Landamman, with his\n    sword by his side. The people follow the chiefs whom they have\n    chosen to the place of meeting, a circle in a green meadow,\n    with a pine forest rising above their heads, and a mighty spur\n    of the mountain range facing them on the other side of the\n    valley. The multitude of freemen take their seats around the\n    chief ruler of the commonwealth, whose term of office comes\n    that day to an end. The assembly opens; a short space is given\n    to prayer--silent prayer offered up by each man in the temple\n    of God\u2019s own rearing. Then comes the business of the day. If\n    changes in the law are demanded, they are then laid before the\n    vote of the assembly, in which each citizen of full age has an\n    equal vote and an equal right of speech. The yearly magistrates\n    have now discharged all their duties; their term of office is\n    at an end; the trust that has been placed in their hands falls\n    back into the hands of those by whom it was given--into the\n    hands of the sovereign people. The chief of the commonwealth,\n    now such no longer, leaves his seat of office, and takes his\n    place as a simple citizen in the ranks of his fellows. It\n    rests with the free-will of the assembly to call him back to\n    his chair of office, or to set another there in his stead.\n    Men who have neither looked into the history of the past, nor\n    yet troubled themselves to learn what happens year by year\n    in their own age, are fond of declaiming against the caprice\n    and ingratitude of the people, and of telling us that under a\n    democratic government neither men nor measures can remain for\n    an hour unchanged. The witness alike of the present and of the\n    past is an answer to baseless theories like these. The spirit\n    which made democratic Athens year by year bestow her highest\n    offices on the patrician Pericles and the reactionary Phocion,\n    still lives in the democracies of Switzerland, alike in the\n    Landesgemeinde of Uri and in the Federal Assembly at Bern.\n    The ministers of kings, whether despotic or constitutional,\n    may vainly envy the sure tenure of office which falls to\n    the lot of those who are chosen to rule by the voice of the\n    people. Alike in the whole confederation and in the single\n    canton, re-election is the rule; the rejection of the outgoing\n    magistrate is the rare exception. The Landamman of Uri, whom\n    his countrymen have raised to the seat of honor, and who has\n    done nothing to lose their confidence, need not fear that when\n    he has gone to the place of meeting in the pomp of office, his\n    place in the march homeward will be transferred to another\n    against his will.\u201d\n\nThe grand forms of the Windg\u00e4lle, the Bristenstock, and the other\nmighty mountains, surrounded us as we stood in deep silence on this\nhigh green meadow, profoundly impressed by this eloquent tribute to a\ndevout and liberty-loving people, all the more remarkable as coming from\na Protestant writer. There was little to add to it, for Herr H----\u2019s\nexperience could only confirm it in every point. Dinner had to be got\nthrough rapidly on our return to Altorf, as we wished to catch the\nsteamer leaving Fluelen at five o\u2019clock. Like all these vessels, it\ntouched at the landing-place beside Tell\u2019s Platform, whence our young\nfriends of the morning, who had been watching for our return, waved us a\ngreeting. Thence we sat on deck, tracing Lecourbe\u2019s mule-path march of\ntorch-light memory along the Axenberg precipices, and finally reached\nthe Waldst\u00e4tterhof at Brunnen in time to see the sun sink behind Mont\nPilatus, and leave the varied outlines clearly defined against a deep-red\nsky.\n\n\nS. PHILIP\u2019S HOME.[13]\n\n    O Mary, Mother Mary! our tears are flowing fast,\n    For mighty Rome, S. Philip\u2019s home, is desolate and waste:\n    There are wild beasts in her palaces, far fiercer and more bold\n    Than those that licked the martyrs\u2019 feet in heathen days of old.\n\n    O Mary, Mother Mary! that dear city was thine own,\n    And brightly once a thousand lamps before thine altars shone;\n    At the corners of the streets thy Child\u2019s sweet face and thine\n    Charmed evil out of many hearts and darkness out of mine.\n\n    By Peter\u2019s cross and Paul\u2019s sharp sword, dear Mother Mary, pray!\n    By the dungeon deep where thy S. Luke in weary durance lay;\n    And by the church thou know\u2019st so well, beside the Latin Gate,\n    For love of John, dear Mother, stay the hapless city\u2019s fate.\n\n    For the exiled Pontiffs sake, our Father and our Lord,\n    O Mother! bid the angel sheathe his keen avenging sword;\n    For the Vicar of thy Son, poor exile though he be,\n    Is busied with thy honor _now_ by that sweet southern sea.\n\n    Oh! by the joy thou hadst in Rome, when every street and square\n    Burned with the fire of holy love that Philip kindled there,\n    And by that throbbing heart of his, which thou didst keep at Rome,\n    Let not the spoiler waste dear Father Philip\u2019s Home!\n\n    Oh! by the dread basilicas, the pilgrim\u2019s gates to heaven,\n    By all the shrines and relics God to Christian Rome hath given,\n    By the countless Ave Marias that have rung from out its towers,\n    By Peter\u2019s threshold, Mother! save this pilgrim land of ours.\n\n    By all the words of peace and power that from S. Peter\u2019s chair\n    Have stilled the angry world so oft, this glorious city spare!\n    By the lowliness of Him whose gentle-hearted sway\n    A thousand lands are blessing now, dear Mother Mary, pray.\n\n    By the pageants bright, whose golden light hath flashed through\n        street and square,\n    And by the long processions that have borne thy Jesus there;\n    By the glories of the saints; by the honors that were thine;\n    By all the worship God hath got from many a blazing shrine;\n\n    By all heroic deeds of saints that Rome hath ever seen;\n    By all the times her multitudes have crowned thee for their queen;\n    By all the glory God hath gained from out that wondrous place,\n    O Mary, Mother Mary! pray thy strongest prayer for grace.\n\n    O Mary, Mother Mary! thou wilt pray for Philip\u2019s Home,\n    Thou wilt turn the heart of him who turned S. Peter back to Rome.\n    Oh! thou wilt pray thy prayer, and the battle will be won,\n    And the Saviour\u2019s sinless Mother save the city of her Son.\n\n\nNEW PUBLICATIONS.\n\n    THE TROUBLES OF OUR CATHOLIC FOREFATHERS, RELATED BY\n    THEMSELVES. Second Series. Edited by John Morris, S. J.\n    London: Burns & Oates. 1875. (New York: Sold by The Catholic\n    Publication Society.)\n\nWhilst our ears are deafened and our feelings shocked by the calumnies\nand lying vituperation heaped upon all that is most worthy of love\nand veneration upon earth by the Satanic societies which the Popes\nhave smitten with repeated excommunications, it is consoling to be\nsupplied--by limners, too, who are themselves no mean exemplars of the\nnoble development which the Church can give to virtue when it follows\nher counsels--with lifelike portraits of Christian athletes in times\ngone by. We do not know how soon our courage, patience, and charity may\nbe put to a similar test. Multitudes of our fellow-Catholics are already\nsubjected to every suffering but the martyrdom of death; and this seed of\nthe Church our enemies, more wily than the sanguinary heretics of the age\nof Elizabeth, seem to be unwilling to sow. But they will not long be able\nto restrain their passion. The word of persecution has gone forth; and so\nbitter is the hatred of the very name of Christ, that before very long\nnothing but the blood of Christians will satiate its instincts.\n\nThe persecution of the Church in England in the time of Elizabeth\nresembled the persecution which is now raging against it, in the\npolitical complexion given to it. But there were far stronger grounds for\nit then than now. The superior claims of Mary to the throne, her virtues,\nand her surpassing beauty, were a just subject of jealousy and uneasiness\nto Elizabeth, and she might very naturally suppose that her Catholic\nsubjects were not likely to regard with any fondness the usurpation of an\nillegitimate daughter of her apostate and tyrannical father.\n\nIn the present persecutions there is no political pretext, but one is\nmade under cover of which to extirpate from among mankind the religion\nand very name of Christ.\n\nThis volume is the second of a series which promises to supply us with a\nwhole gallery of Christian heroes, which we of this age of worldliness,\ncowardice, and self-seeking will do well to study attentively. As is\noften the case, it is to the untiring zeal of the Society of Jesus we\nowe so interesting as well as edifying a work. Father Morris, formerly\nSecretary to Cardinal Wiseman, but who joined the Society after the death\nof that eminent prelate, is its author, and he appears to us to have\nexecuted his task with rare judgment. By allowing his characters to speak\nin great part for themselves, the biographies and relations he presents\nus with have a dramatic interest which is greatly increased by the quaint\nand nervous style of the time in which they express themselves. We feel,\ntoo, that it is the very innermost soul and mind of the individual that\nis being revealed to us; and certainly in most of them the revelation\nis so beautiful that we should possibly have ascribed something of\nthis to the partiality of a panegyrist, or to his descriptive skill,\nif the picture had been sketched by the pen of any other biographer\nthan themselves. It is, indeed, the mean opinion they evidently have\nof themselves, and the na\u00efve and modest manner in which they relate\nincidents evoking heroic virtue, their absolute unconsciousness of aught\nmore than the most ordinary qualities, which fascinate us. It bears\nan impress of genuineness impossible to any description by the most\nimpartial of historians. They express a beauty which could no more be\ncommunicated in any other way than can the odor of the flower or the\nmusic of the streams be conveyed by any touch, how ever magic, of the\npainter.\n\nThe present volume of the series contains the \u201cLife of Father William\nWeston, S.J.,\u201d and \u201cThe Fall of Anthony Tyrrell,\u201d by Father Persons; for\n\u201cour wish is,\u201d says Father Morris, \u201cto learn not only what was done by\nthe strong and brave, but also by the weak and cowardly.\u201d\n\nWe are much struck in this history with the resemblance between those\ntimes and the present in the unsparing calumny of which the purest and\nthe holiest men were made the victims.\n\nFor confirmation of these remarks, we refer the reader to the book\nitself. But we cannot refrain from quoting, in spite of its length, the\nfollowing incident related by Father Weston. It is a remarkable example\nof the salutary effect of the Sacrament of Penance:\n\n\u201cFor there lay in a certain heretical house a Catholic who, with the\nconsent of his keeper, had come to London for the completion of some\nurgent business. He had been committed to a prison in the country, a\ngood way out of London. He was seized, however, and overpowered by a\nlong sickness which brought him near to death. The woman who nursed\nhim, being a Catholic, had diligently searched the whole city through\nto find a priest, but in vain. She then sent word to me of the peril of\nthat person, and entreated me, if it could be contrived, to come to his\nassistance, as he was almost giving up the ghost. I went to him when the\nlittle piece of gold obtained for me the liberty to do so. I explained\nthat I was a priest, for I was dressed like a layman, and that I had come\nto hear his confession. \u2018If that is the reason why you have come, it\nis in vain,\u2019 he said; \u2018the time for it is passed away.\u2019 I said to him:\n\u2018What! are you not a Catholic? If you are, you know what you have to do.\nThis hour, which seems to be your last, has been given you that by making\na good and sincere confession you may, while there is time, wash away\nthe stains of your past life, whatever they are.\u2019 He answered: \u2018I tell\nyou that you have come too late: that time has gone by. The judgment is\ndecided; the sentence has been pronounced; I am condemned, and given up\nto the enemy. I cannot hope for pardon.\u2019 \u2018That is false,\u2019 I answered,\n\u2018and it is a most fearful error to imagine that a man still in life can\nassert that he is already deprived of God\u2019s goodness and abandoned by\nhis grace, in such a way that even when he desires and implores mercy it\nshould be denied him. Since your faith teaches you that God is infinitely\nmerciful, you are to believe with all certitude that there is no bond\nso straitly fastened but the grace of God can unloose it, no obstacle\nbut grace has power to surmount it.\u2019 \u2018But do you not see,\u2019 he asked me,\n\u2018how full of evil spirits this place is where we are? There is no corner\nor crevice in the walls where there are not more than a thousand of the\nmost dark and frightful demons, who, with their fierce faces, horrid\nlooks, and atrocious words threaten perpetually that they are just going\nto carry me into the abyss of misery. Why, even my very body and entrails\nare filled with these hateful guests, who are lacerating my body and\ntorturing my soul with such dreadful cruelty and anguish that it seems\nas if I were not so much on the point merely of going there, as that\nI am already devoted and made over to the flames and agonies of hell.\nWherefore, it is clear that God has abandoned me for ever, and has cast\nme away from all hope of pardon.\u2019\n\n\u201cWhen I had listened in trembling to all these things, and to much more\nof a similar kind, and saw at the same time that death was coming fast\nupon him, and that he would not admit of any advice or persuasion, I\nbegan to think within myself, in silence and anxiety, what would be\nthe wisest course to choose. There entered into my mind, through the\ninspiration, doubtless, of God, the following most useful plan and\nmethod of dealing with him: \u2018Well, then,\u2019 I said, \u2018if you are going to\nbe lost, I do not require a confession from you; nevertheless, recollect\nyourself just for a moment, and, with a quiet mind, answer me, in a few\nwords, either yes or no to the questions that I put to you; I ask for\nnothing else, and put upon you no other burden.\u2019 Then I began to question\nhim, and to follow the order of the Commandments. First, whether he had\ndenied his faith. \u2018See,\u2019 I said, \u2018do not worry yourself; say just those\nsimple words, yes or no.\u2019 As soon as he had finished either affirming or\ndenying anything, I proceeded through four or five Commandments--whether\nhe had killed any one, stolen anything, etc. When he had answered with\ntolerable calmness, I said to him, \u2018What are the devils doing now? What\ndo you feel or suffer from them?\u2019 He replied: \u2018They are quieter with\nme; they do not seem to be so furious as they were before.\u2019 \u2018Lift up\nyour soul to God,\u2019 I said, \u2018and let us go on to the rest.\u2019 In the same\nfashion and order I continued to question him about other things. Then\nI enquired again, saying, \u2018How is it now?\u2019 He replied; \u2018Within I am not\ntormented. The devils stand at a distance; they throw stones; they make\ndreadful faces at me, and threaten me horribly. I do not think that I\nshall escape.\u2019 Going forward as before, I allured and encouraged the man\nby degrees, till every moment he became more reasonable, and at last made\nan entire confession of all his sins, after which I gave him absolution,\nand asked him what he was suffering from his cruel and harassing enemies.\n\u2018Nothing,\u2019 he said; \u2018they have all vanished. There is not a trace of\nthem, thanks be to God.\u2019 Then I went away, after strengthening him by\na few words, and encouraging him beforehand against temptations which\nmight return. I promised, at the same time, that I would be with him\non the morrow, and meant to bring the most Sacred Body of Christ with\nme, and warned him to prepare himself diligently for the receiving of\nso excellent a banquet. The whole following night he passed without\nmolestation from the enemy, and on the next day he received with great\ntranquillity of mind the most Holy Sacrament, after which, at an interval\nof a few hours without disturbance, he breathed forth his soul, and\nquietly gave it up to God. Before he died, I asked the man what cause\nhad driven him into such desperation of mind. He answered me thus: \u2018I\nwas detained in prison many years for the Catholic faith. Nevertheless,\nI did not cease to sin, and to conceal my sins from my confessor, being\npersuaded by the devil that pardon must be sought for from God, rather\nby penances and severity of life, than by confession. Hence I either\nneglected my confessions altogether, or else made insincere ones; and so\nI fell into that melancholy of mind and that state of tribulation which\nhas been my punishment.\u2019\u201d\n\n    LIGHT LEADING UNTO LIGHT: A Series of Sonnets and Poems. By\n    John Charles Earle, B.A. London: Burns & Oates. 1875.\n\nMr. Earle has undoubtedly a facility in writing sonnets; and a good\nsonnet has been well called \u201ca whole poem in itself.\u201d It is also, we\nthink, peculiarly suitable for didactic poetry. The present sonnets are\nin advance, we consider, of those we first saw from Mr. Earle\u2019s pen. But\nwe still observe faults, both of diction and of verse, which he should\nhave learnt to avoid. His model seems to be Wordsworth--the greatest\nsonneteer in our language; but, like him, he has too much of the prosaic\nand the artificial.\n\nWe wish we could bestow unqualified praise upon the ideas throughout\nthese sonnets. And were there nothing for criticism but what may be\ncalled poetic subtleties--such as the German notion of an \u201cether body,\u201d\ndeveloped during life, and hatched at death, for our intermediate\nstate of being--we should have no quarrel with Mr. Earle. But when we\nmeet two sonnets (XLVIII. and XLIX.) headed \u201cMatter Non-Existent,\u201d and\n\u201cMatter Non-Substantial,\u201d we have a philosophical error serious in its\nconsequences, and are not surprised to find the two following sonnets\nteach Pantheism. In Sonnet XLVIII. the author\u2019s excellent intention is to\nrefute materialism:\n\n    \u201c\u2018Thought is,\u2019 you say, \u2018a function of the brain,\n    And matter all that we can ever know;\n\n    \u2026\n\n    \u201c\u2018From it we came; to it at last we go,\n    And all beyond it is a phantom vain,\u2019 etc.\n\n    \u2026\n\n    \u201cI answer: \u2018Matter is _a form of mind_,\n    _So far as it is aught_. It has no base,\n    Save in the self-existent.\u2019\u201d\n\nSonnet L. is headed, \u201cAs the Soul in the Body, so is God in the\nUniverse.\u201d Surely, this is the old \u201cAnima Mundi\u201d theory! Then, in Sonnet\nLI., the poet says of nature, and addressing God:\n\n    \u201cShe cannot live detached from thee. Her heart\n      Is beating with thy pulse. _I cannot tell_\n    _How far she is or is not of thee part_;\n      How far in her thou dost or dost not dwell;\n    That _thou her only base and substance art_,\n      This--this at least--I know and feel full well.\u201d\n\nNow, of course, Mr. Earle is unconscious that this is rank Pantheism.\nHe has a way of explaining it to himself which makes it sound perfectly\northodox. But we do call such a blunder inexcusable in a Catholic writer\nof Mr. Earle\u2019s pretensions. The title of his volume, \u201cLight leading unto\nLight,\u201d has little to do with the contents, as far as we can see; and,\ncertainly, there are passages which would more fitly be headed \u201cDarkness\nleading unto Darkness.\u201d\n\nWe are sorry to have had to make these strictures. The great bulk of the\nsonnets, together with the remaining poems, are very pleasant reading,\nand cannot fail to do good.\n\n    FIRST ANNUAL REPORT OF THE REV. THEODORE NOETHEN, FIRST\n    CATHOLIC CHAPLAIN OF THE ALBANY PENITENTIARY, TO THE\n    INSPECTORS. April 6, 1875. Albany: J. Munsell. 1875.\n\n    THIRTEEN SERMONS PREACHED IN THE ALBANY COUNTY PENITENTIARY. By\n    the Rev. Theodore Noethen. Published under the auspices of the\n    Society of S. Vincent de Paul. Albany: Van Benthuysen Printing\n    House. 1875.\n\nWe are glad to see Father Noethen\u2019s familiar hand thus charitably and\ncharacteristically engaged. These are the first documents of the kind\nwe have observed under the improving state of things in this country,\nin which the priest of the Church is seen occupied in one of his most\nimportant duties--reclaiming the erring; and in doing this the means\nwhich he employs will doubtless be found more efficacious than any the\nstate has at its command. Did the state fully appreciate its highest\ninterest as well as duty, it would afford the Church every facility,\nnot only in reclaiming such of her children as have fallen into the\ntemptations by which they are surrounded, but also in the use of those\npreventive measures involved in parish schools, which would save\nmultitudes from penitentiaries and houses of correction. Our over-zealous\nProtestant friends throw every obstacle in the way of the adequate moral\nand religious training of the class most exposed to the temptations\narising from poverty and lack of employment, and then blame the Church\nfor the result. We heartily welcome these signs of a better time coming.\n\n    AN EXPOSITION OF THE EPISTLES OF S. PAUL AND OF THE CATHOLIC\n    EPISTLES; consisting of an Introduction to each Epistle, an\n    Analysis of each Chapter, a Paraphrase of the Sacred Text,\n    and a Commentary, embracing Notes, Critical, Explanatory, and\n    Dogmatical, interspersed with Moral Reflections. By the Rt.\n    Rev. John MacEvilly, D.D., Bishop of Galway. Third edition,\n    enlarged. Dublin: W. B. Kelly. 1875. (New York: Sold by The\n    Catholic Publication Society.)\n\nAfter quoting this full, descriptive title-page, it will suffice to say\nthat the notes which form the commentary have in the present edition\nbeen considerably enlarged. The work was originally published under the\napprobation of the Holy Father, the late Cardinals Barnabo and Wiseman,\nand the present venerable Archbishop of Tuam.\n\n\nBOOKS AND PAMPHLETS RECEIVED.\n\n    From Scribner, Armstrong & Co., New York: Personal\n    Reminiscences. By O\u2019Keefe, Kelly, and Taylor. Edited by R. H.\n    Stoddard (Bric-\u00e0-Brac Series, No. VIII)\n\n    From the Author: An Address on Woman\u2019s Work in the Church\n    before the Presbytery of New Albany. By Geo. C. Heckman, D.D.\n    Paper, 8vo, pp. 28.\n\n    From Wm. Dennis, G.W.S.: Journal of Proceedings of the Ninth\n    Annual Session of the Grand Lodge of Nova Scotia. Paper, 8vo,\n    pp. 73.\n\n    From the Author: The Battle of Life: An Address. By D. S. Troy,\n    Montgomery, Alabama. Paper, 8vo, pp. 14.\n\n    From Ginn Brothers, Boston: Latin Composition: An Elementary\n    Guide to Writing in Latin. Part I.--Constructions. By J. H.\n    Allen and J. B. Greenough. 12mo, pp. vi., 117.\n\n\n\n\nTHE CATHOLIC WORLD.\n\nVOL. XXII., No. 128.--NOVEMBER, 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\nFREEMASONRY.[14]\n\nThe saints have all, whilst yet in the flesh, foretastes of heavenly\nbliss. But in these the closing days of time all the elect have a\npresentiment of coming judgment. And that presentiment is strong in\nproportion to their faith; stronger still in proportion to their charity.\nLet our readers be assured at the outset. We are not about to imitate the\nirreverence of the Scotch Presbyterian minister who, some few years ago,\npretended that he had discovered in the prophetic visions of S. John the\nyear in which will come to pass that event of stupendous awfulness, of\nwhich He, before whom all mankind will then be judged, said: \u201cOf that day\nor hour no one knows, neither the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but the\nFather only.\u201d\n\nOne fearful catastrophe, however, to befall mankind before the general\njudgment is insisted on so often and with such solemn emphasis by the\nHoly Spirit that the love of God seems to be, as it were, trembling\nfor his redeemed creature, and longing to reveal to him more than is\nconsistent with his own designs in the trial of his faith. For it must\nbe remembered that faith is a merit, and the absolutely indispensable\ncondition of our receiving the benefits of the divine atonement. Although\nthe gift of God, it is the part we ourselves, by co-operating with the\ngift, contribute towards our own salvation. And what we are required\nto believe is so beautiful and ennobling to the moral sense, and so\nsatisfying to the reason, that, supported as it is by the historical\nevidence of the divinity of Christ and of his church, no one can refuse\nto believe but those who deliberately choose darkness rather than light,\nsin rather than virtue, Satan rather than God.\n\nYet so formidable was to be that last trial of the faith of Christians,\nso crucial that conclusive test of their charity, which was to \u201cdeceive,\nif it were possible, even the very elect,\u201d[15] that the Spirit of Love,\nyearning for the safety of his regenerate ones, and compassionating the\nweakness of human nature, revealed its marks and signs in the fullest\nand most circumstantial detail; so that, warned of the danger, and\nrecognizing it when it arrived, they might pass through it unhurt, whilst\nthose who succumbed to it might be without excuse before the divine\njustice. It is the yearning of the heart of Christ towards his children,\nwhom he foresees will fail by thousands in that decisive trial, which\nprompts the ejaculation that sounds almost like a lament over his own\ninability to put any pressure on their free-will: \u201cWhen the Son of man\ncometh, will he find faith on the earth?\u201d It is his anxiety, as it were,\nabout the fate of his elect amidst the seductions of that appalling\napostasy, which urged him, after he had indicated the signs that would\naccompany it, to be on the perpetual, sleepless lookout for them. \u201cBe\never on the alert. Lo! I have foretold you all.\u201d[16]\n\n\u201cBe ever on the alert, watch and pray. For you do not know when the time\nmay be.\u201d[17]\n\n\u201cWatch, then, lest when he (the head of the family) shall have come on a\nsudden, you be found sleeping.\u201d[18]\n\n\u201cMoreover, what I say to you I _say to all_: Watch!\u201d[19]\n\nThroughout all the ages that have elapsed since those words of solemn\nimport fell from the lips of Jesus Christ it has been the plain duty\nof all Christians--nay, of all to whose knowledge they were brought--to\nnarrowly scrutinize events, to keep their attention fixed upon them,\nwatching for the signs he foretold, lest they should appear unheeded,\nand they be seduced from the faith; or be the cause, through their\nindifference, of others being carried away in the great misleading.\n\nBut who now can be insensible to the predicted portents? So notorious\nare they, and so exactly do they answer to the description of them\nhanded down to us from the beginning, that they rudely arouse us from\nsleep; that they force our attention, however indifferent to them we may\nbe, however dull our faith or cold our charity. And when we see a vast\norganization advancing its forces in one united movement throughout the\nentire globe in an avowed attack, as insidious as it is formidable, upon\naltars, thrones, social order, Christianity, Christ, and God himself,\nwhere is the heart that can be insensible to the touching evidence of\nloving solicitude which urged Him whom surging multitudes of his false\ncreatures were deliberately to reject in favor of a fouler being than\nBarabbas, to iterate so often the warning admonition, \u201cBe ever on the\nwatch\u201d?\n\nTo study, therefore, the signs of the times, cannot be without profit to\nall, but especially to us who have but scant respect for the spirit of\nthe age, who are not sufficiently enlightened by it to look upon Christ\nas nothing more than a remarkable man, the sublime morality he taught and\nset an example of as a nuisance, and his church as the enemy of mankind,\nto be extirpated from their midst, because it forbids their enjoying the\nillumination of the dagger-guarded secrets of the craft of Freemasonry.\n\nTo fix the date of the _Dies ir\u00e6_ is completely out of our power. It is\nirreverent, if not blasphemous, to attempt it. It is of the counsels\nof God that it should come with the swiftness of \u201clightning\u201d and the\nunexpectedness of \u201ca thief in the night\u201d; and that expressly that we\nmay be ever on the watch. But the signs of its approach are given to us\nin order to help those who do not abandon \u201cwatching\u201d in indifference,\nto escape the great delusion--the imposition of Antichrist--which is to\nimmediately precede it. It is these signs we propose to study in the\nfollowing pages.\n\nThe predictions of Christ himself on this subject are far more obscure\nthan those subsequently given to us by his apostles. But this has always\nbeen God\u2019s way of revelation to his creature. To Moses alone, in the\nmount, he revealed the moral law and that wondrous theocratic polity\nwhich remained even after the perversity of his people had given it a\nmonarchical form; and Moses communicated it to the people. To the people\nChrist spoke in parables, \u201cand without a parable spake he not unto them.\nBut when he was alone with them, he explained all to his disciples.\u201d[20]\n\u201cTo you,\u201d he said, \u201cit is given to have known the mystery of the kingdom\nof God; but to those without everything is a parable.\u201d[21] The apostles\nthemselves, who were to declare the revelation, in order to increase\nthe merit of their faith, were not fully illuminated before the coming\ndown of the Holy Spirit. \u201cYou do not know this parable?\u201d he said; \u201cand\nhow are you going to understand all parables?\u201d[22] To their utterances,\ntherefore, it is we shall confine ourselves, as shedding as much light\nas it has seemed good to the Holy Ghost to disclose to us upon the\nprofounder and more oracular predictions of God himself in the flesh.\n\nBesides SS. Peter, Paul, and John, S. Jude is the only other apostle, we\nbelieve, who has bequeathed to the church predictions of the terrible\napostasy of Antichrist which is to consummate the trial of the faith of\nthe saints under the very shadow of the coming judgment. We will take\nthem in the order in which they occur. The first is in a letter of S.\nPaul to the church at Thessalonica, where, exhorting them not to \u201cbe\nterrified as if the day of the Lord were at hand,\u201d he assures them that\nit will not come \u201cbefore there shall have first happened an apostasy, and\nthe man of sin shall have been revealed, the son of perdition--he who\nopposes himself to, and raises himself above, all that is called God, or\nthat is held in honor, so that he may sit in the temple of God, showing\nhimself as if he were God.\u2026 And you know what now is hindering his\nbeing revealed in his own time. For the mystery of iniquity is already\nworking; only so that he who is now keeping it in check will keep it in\ncheck until he be moved out of its way. And then will the lawless one be\nrevealed, whom the Lord Jesus will slay with the breath of his mouth,\nand destroy with the illumination of his coming; whose coming is after\nthe manner of working of Satan, with all strength and symbols, and lying\nabsurdities, and in every enticement of iniquity in those who perish;\nfor the reason that they did not receive the love of the truth that they\nmight be saved. So God will send them the working of error, that they\nmay believe falsehood; that all may be judged who have not believed the\ntruth, but have consented to iniquity.\u201d[23]\n\nIn a letter to Timothy, Bishop of Ephesus, S. Paul writes: \u201cNow, the\nSpirit says expressly that, in the last times, some shall apostatize\nfrom the faith, giving heed to spirits of error and to doctrines of\ndemons, speaking falsehood in hypocrisy, and having their own conscience\nseared.\u201d[24]\n\nIn a second letter to the same bishop he writes: \u201cKnow this, moreover:\nthat in the last days there will be a pressure of perilous times; men\nwill be self-lovers, covetous, lifted up, proud, blasphemous, disobedient\nto parents, ungrateful, malicious, without affection, discontented,\ncalumniators, incontinent, hard, unamiable, traitors, froward, fearful,\nand lovers of pleasures more than lovers of God, having indeed a form of\npiety, but denying its power.\u201d[25] S. Peter writes that \u201cthere will come\nin the last days mockers in deception, walking according to their own\nlusts.\u201d[26]\n\nS. Jude describes them as \u201cmockers, walking in impieties according to\ntheir own desires. These are they who separate themselves--animals, not\nhaving the Spirit.\u201d[27]\n\nIt would seem from the expressions of S. John-who of all the apostles\nappears to have had most pre-eminently the gift of prophecy--as well as\nfrom the manner in which the last days of Jerusalem and the last days\nof the world appear to be mingled together in the fore-announcement\nof Christ, that powerful manifestations of Antichrist were to precede\nboth events; although the apostasy was to be far more extensive and\ndestructive before the latter. \u201cLittle children,\u201d writes the favorite\napostle, \u201cit is the last time; and as you have heard that Antichrist\ncomes, so now many have become Antichrists; whence we know that it is the\nlast time.\u2026 He is Antichrist who denies the Father and the Son.\u201d[28]\n\n\u201cEvery spirit who abolishes Jesus is not of God. And he is Antichrist\nabout whom we have heard that he is coming, and is even now in the\nworld.\u201d[29]\n\nWe believe that these are the only passages wherein the Holy Ghost has\nvouchsafed to give us distinct and definite information as to the marks\nand evidences by which we are to know that there is amongst us that\nAntichrist whose disastrous although short-lived triumph is to precede\nby only a short space the end of time and the eternal enfranchisement of\ngood from evil.\n\nThe prophetic utterances on this subject in the revelations of S. John\nare veiled in such exceedingly obscure imagery that we do not propose to\nattempt any investigation of their meaning in this article. It is our\nobject to influence the minds of such Protestants as believe in God the\nFather, Son, and Holy Spirit, and of Catholics whose faith is so dull\nand whose charity is so cold that they can listen to the blasphemies of\nAntichrist without emotion.\n\nWe may remark here, however, that if we succeed in supplying solid\nreasons for believing that Antichrist is already amongst us, and that\nhis dismal career of desolating victory has already begun, the duty of\nstudying those utterances of the Holy Ghost, so darkly veiled that the\nfaith of those who stand firm may have more merit in the trial of that\ngreat tribulation, will have assumed a position of importance impossible\nto be overrated. That they are to be understood, the Holy Ghost himself\nimplies. He intimates that their meaning is accessible to the spiritually\nminded, and would even seem to make dulness of apprehension of it a\nreproach, a lack of spiritual discernment. \u201cIf any one has the ear, let\nhim hear,\u201d[30] he writes. And again: \u201cThis is wisdom. Let him who has\nunderstanding reckon the number of the beast.\u201d[31]\n\nIt is not necessary to the object we have in view that we should identify\n\u201cthe beast\u201d of the Apocalypse, seven-headed and having ten horns crowned\nwith diadems, with Antichrist. The question we propose to answer is\nsimply, \u201cAre there under our eyes at this moment evidences of a present\nAntichrist, or of his being close at hand?\u201d In other words, \u201cIs what is\ncalled \u2018the spirit of the age\u2019 the spirit of Antichrist?\u201d\n\nFor us, that we may be on our guard against his wiles, and armed to the\nteeth to fight against him to the death, it is comparatively unimportant\nwhether we decide him to be actually amongst us or only just about to\nappear. His marks and characteristics, his badges or decorations--these\nare all we require.\n\nIf the Antichrist of the prophecies is a single, separate impersonation\nof the demoniac attributes described by the Holy Ghost--if, in short, he\nis an individual man, then he has not yet been revealed. In that case,\nour identification of Antichrist will only have exposed that temper and\nspirit with which \u201cthe red dragon\u201d--\u201cthe devil\u201d--\u201cSatan\u201d--\u201cthe ancient\nserpent\u201d--has possessed such vast multitudes of the human race throughout\nthe entire globe as to afford ground for calling it \u201cthe spirit of the\nage,\u201d and which is to culminate in some terrible personal embodiment--a\ntypical personage, as men speak. But if the prophecies do not designate\nan individual man, but only the impersonation of a multitude of\nindividuals organized into a unity and animated with the same spirit,\nthen we think we shall be able to point the finger of horror and loathing\nat the very Antichrist at present amongst us, and in the midst of\nvictory, as decisively and as clearly as the prophet of penance pointed\nthe finger of adoring love towards the Lamb of God.\n\nWe incline, and strongly, to the latter view. We must withhold our\nreasons, partly because, as we have said, our object is equally subserved\nby either view; but more because to do so would leave us too little space\nfor treating the main subject. We will content ourselves with stating\nthat those reasons are founded on the internal evidence supplied by the\nseveral predictions; and also on our aversion to admit the possibility of\na more depraved _individual_ impersonation of evil than that unhappy man\nwhom God in human flesh pronounced a devil!\n\nWhether, however, Antichrist be or not an individual man, one thing is\ncertain: that if we can point out an immense army of men, co-extensive\nwith the globe, highly organized, animated with the same spirit, and\nacting with as much unity of purpose as if their movements were directed\nby one head, who exhibit precisely those marks and characteristics\ndescribed in the predictions of Antichrist, we may expect even on the\nsupposition that they are to have a visible head, an individual leader,\nwho has yet to make his appearance; and that they are his hosts, who have\nalready achieved a great part of his victories.\n\nWhat is first noticeable is that the stigma which is to be deeply branded\non the front of the Antichristian manifestation which is to precede the\nclose of time is \u201c_Apostasy_\u201d.\n\nThe day of the Lord will not come, \u201cnisi venerit discessio primum;\nSpiritus dicit quia in novissimis temporibus quidam a fide discedunt.\u201d\n\nThere can be no need of dwelling on this. It is sufficiently obvious\nthat the great apostasy inaugurated by Luther was the first outbreak of\nAntichristian victory. The success of that movement assured the spirit\nof error of a career of victory. He was lurking in the fold, watching\nfor his opportunity, and snatching away stray souls, as S. John tells\nus, in the time of the apostles. For a millennium and a half has he\nbeen preparing his manifestation. He inspired Julian, he inspired the\nArians, he inspired all the heresies against which the definitions\nof the faith were decreed. But when he had seduced men away from the\nchurch, whole nations at a time, \u201cdominationem contemnentes\u201d (2 S. Peter\nii. 10), and captivated them to the irrational opinion that there is\nno higher authority for the obligatory dogmas of the Christian Church\nthan the conviction of every individual, _solvere Jesum_, and then God,\nwas merely a matter of time. What human passion had begun human reason\nwould complete. The life of faith could not be annihilated at a blow.\nIt has taken three centuries for the sap of charity to wither away in\nthe cut-off branches. But sooner or later the green wood could not but\nbecome dry; and reason, void of charity, would be forced to acknowledge\nthat if the Bible has no definite meaning other than what appears to be\nits meaning to every individual, practically it has no definite meaning\nat all; that God cannot have revealed any truth at all, if we have no\nmeans of ascertaining what it is beyond our own private opinions; that\na book the text of which admits of as many interpretations as there are\nsects cannot, without an authoritative living expositor, reveal truths\nwhich it is necessary to believe in order to escape eternal punishment.\nThe claim of the Catholic Church to this authority having been pronounced\nan usurpation, the progress, although slow, was sure and easy towards\npronouncing Christianity itself an usurpation. God himself cannot survive\nChristianity. And we have now literally \u201cprogressed\u201d to so triumphant\na manifestation of Antichrist that the work of persecution of God\u2019s\nChurch has set in with a vengeance, and men hear on all sides of them the\nexistence of God denied without horror, even without surprise.\n\nThe first mark of a present Antichrist we propose to signalize is that\ndistinctly assigned to him by S. Paul--\u1f41 \u1f04\u03bd\u03bf\u03bc\u03bf\u03c2. This epithet is but\nfeebly rendered by the Latin _ille iniquus_, or the English \u201cthat wicked\none.\u201d \u201cThe lawless one\u201d better conveys the force of the Greek. For the\nroot \u03bd\u03cc\u03bc\u03bf\u03c2 includes in its meaning not only enacted law of all kinds, but\nwhatever has become, as it were, a law by custom; or a law of nature, as\nit were, by the universal observance of mankind.\n\nThe first marked sequel of the apostasy, the first outbreak of success\nof Antichrist in the political order, was the first French Revolution,\nduring which a harlot was placed for worship upon the altar of Notre Dame.\n\nThat fearful outbreak may have sat for its portrait to S. Peter in\nthe following description of the members of the Antichrist of the\n\u201clast times\u201d: \u201cWho walk after the flesh in the lust of concupiscence,\nand despise authority; \u2026 irrational beasts, following only their own\nbrute impulses, made only to be caught and slain; \u2026 having eyes full\nof adultery and of ceaseless sin; \u2026 speaking proud things of vanity,\nenticing, through the desires of the luxury of the flesh, those who by\ndegrees go away from the truth, who become habituated to error; promising\nthem liberty, whereas they themselves are the slaves of corruption\u201d (2\nPet. ii. 10, 12, 14, 18, 19).\n\nThat saturnalia of lawlessness, which Freemason writers have ever since\ndared to approve, was the work of the \u201ccraft\u201d of Freemasonry, to whose\norganization and plan of action does indeed, in an especial sense,\napply S. Paul\u2019s designation of \u03c4\u1f78 \u03bc\u03c5\u03c3\u03c4\u03ae\u03c1\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u03b1\u03bd\u03bf\u03bc\u03af\u03b1\u03c2 \u201cthe mystery\nof lawlessness.\u201d Mirabeau, Siey\u00e8s, Gr\u00e9goire, Robespierre, Condorcet,\nFauchet, Guillotine, Bonneville, Volney, \u201cPhilippe Egalit\u00e9,\u201d etc., had\nall been initiated into the higher grades.\n\nLouis Blanc, himself a Freemason, writes thus: \u201cIt is necessary to\nconduct the reader to the opening of the subterranean mine laid at that\ntime beneath thrones and altars by revolutionists, differing greatly,\nboth in their theory and their practice, from the Encyclopedists. An\nassociation had been formed of men of every land, every religion, and\nevery class, bound together by mysterious signs agreed upon amongst\nthemselves, pledged by a solemn oath to observe inviolable secrecy as to\nthe existence of this hidden bond, and tested by proofs of a terrible\ndescription.\u2026 Thus we find Freemasonry to have been widely diffused\nimmediately before the outbreak of the Revolution. Spreading over the\nwhole face of Europe, it poisoned the thinking minds of Germany, and\nsecretly stirred up rebellion in France, showing itself everywhere in the\nlight of an association resting upon principles diametrically opposed\nto those which govern civil society.\u2026 The ordinances of Freemasonry did\nindeed make great outward display of obedience to law, of respect to the\noutward forms and usages of profane society, and of reverence towards\nrulers; at their banquets the Masons did indeed drink the health of kings\nin the days of monarchy, and of presidents in the time of republics,\nsuch prudent circumspection being indispensable on the part of an\nassociation which threatened the existence of the very governments under\nwhose eyes it was compelled to work, and whose suspicion it had already\naroused. This, nevertheless, did not suffice to counteract the radically\nrevolutionary influence continually exercised by the craft, even while it\nprofessed nothing but peaceful intentions.\u201d[32]\n\nIn the work from which the above and the greater part of our materials in\nthis article are borrowed, we read as follows: \u201cIt was precisely these\nrevolutionary designs of the secret society which induced its Provincial\nGrand Master, the Prussian Minister Count von Haugwitz, to leave it. In\nthe memorial presented by him to the Congress of Monarchs at Verona,\nin 1830, he bids the rulers of Europe to be on their guard against the\nhydra. \u2018I feel at this moment firmly persuaded,\u2019 writes the ex-grand\nmaster, \u2018that the French Revolution, which had its first commencement\nin 1788, and broke out soon after, attended with all the horrors of\nregicide, existed heaven knows how long before, having been planned,\nand having had the way prepared for it, by associations and secret\noaths.\u2019\u201d[33]\n\nAnd the following:\n\n\u201cAfter the events of February, 1848, the \u2018craft\u2019 sang songs of triumph\nat the open success of its secret endeavors. A Belgian brother, Van der\nHeym, spoke thus: \u2018On the day following the revolution of February a\nwhole nation rose as one man, overturned the throne, and wrote over the\nfrontal of the royal palace the words Liberty, Fraternity, Equality, all\nthe citizens having adopted as their own this fundamental principle of\nFreemasonry. The combatants had not to battle long before the victory\nover their oppressors was gained--that freedom won which for centuries\nhad formed the theme of Masonic discourses. We, the apostles of\nfraternity, aid the foundation-stone of the Republic.\u2019\u201d[34]\n\nAnd another master of the Freemasons, one Peign\u00e9, said about the same\ntime: \u201cIn our glorious Revolution of 1792 the Lodge of the Nine Sisters\ngave to the world such men as Garat, Brissot, Bailly, Camille Desmoulins,\nCondorcet, Champfort, Petion; the Lodge of the Iron Mouth gave to it\nFauchet, Goupil de Prefeln, Siey\u00e8s; the Lodge of Candor, Custine, the two\nLameths, and Lafayette.\u201d\n\nThe horrors of that Revolution occasioned a temporary reaction and\nchecked the triumphs of the Freemasons. But well they know how to repair\ntheir broken fortunes, bide their time, and reappear with renewed force.\n\nBarruel, who was an eye-witness of the events of the period, and also\nhimself intimately acquainted with many Freemasons in Paris, relates that\nthe brethren, considering that the time had come when they were free to\npublish the secret they had sworn to keep, shouted aloud: \u201cAt last our\ngoal is reached; from this day France will be one vast lodge, and all\nFrenchmen Freemasons.\u201d\n\nA strong reaction of disgust and terror at the satanic orgies of\nFreemasonry in the ascendant, moderated for a while this shout of\ntriumph. But in the disasters inflicted on France by the conquering\nGermans, the \u201ccraft\u201d thought to find a recurring opportunity. If the\nCommunist attempt at Paris in 1871 was not originally planned by the\nFreemasons, they openly and officially joined it. \u201cA procession composed\nof at least five thousand persons, in which members of all the grades\ntook part, wearing their insignia, and in which one hundred and fifty\nlodges of France were represented, wended its way to the town hall of\nParis. Maillet, bearing the red flag as a token of universal peace,\nheaded the band, and openly proclaimed, in a speech which met with\nthe approval of all present, that the new Commune was the antitype of\nSolomon\u2019s temple and the corner-stone of the social fabric about to be\nraised by the efforts of the craft. The negotiations carried on with the\ngovernment of Versailles on behalf of the socialists, and the way in\nwhich they planted the banners of the craft on the walls of the capital,\naccompanying this action with a threat of instantly joining the ranks of\nthe combatants if a single shot were fired at one of those banners (of\nwhich a graphic account appeared in the _Figaro_ at the time), was all\nof a piece with the sentiments they expressed\u201d (_The Secret Warfare of\nFreemasonry_, p. 172).\n\n_Figaro_ closed its account of these strange events with the following\nreflections: \u201cBut when posterity shall be informed that in the middle\nof the XIXth century, in the midst of an unbelieving generation, which\nopenly denied God and his Christ, under the very guns of an enemy in\npossession of all the French fortresses, hostilities were all at once\nsuspended, and the course of a portentous and calamitous civil war\ninterrupted because, forsooth, Brother Thirifoque, accompanied by two\nKnights Kadosch, went to offer to M. Thiers\u2019 acceptance the golden mallet\nof supreme command (in the craft)--when, I say, this story is told to\nthose who come after us, it will sound in their ears as a nursery tale,\nutterly unworthy of credence.\u201d[35]\n\nIn _R\u00e9v\u00e9lations d\u2019un Franc-ma\u00e7on au lit de mort, pi\u00e8ce authentique,\npublic\u00e9, par_ M. de Hallet (Courtrai, 1826, p. 10), we find the\nfollowing: \u201cWe must restore man to his primeval rights, no longer\nrecognizing rank and dignity--two things the mere sight of which offends\nthe eye of man and wounds his self-love. Obedience is a mere chimera, and\nhas no place in the wise plans of Providence.\u201d\n\nIn the _Astr\u00e6a, Taschenbuch f\u00fcr Freimaurer_, von Bruder Sydow (1845), an\norator thus speaks: \u201cThat which is destined to destruction must in the\ncourse of things be destroyed; and if human powers resist this law, at\nthe behest of fate, a stronger power will appear upon the scene to carry\nout the eternal decrees of Providence. The Reformation of the church,\nas well as the French Revolution, proves the existence of this law.\u2026\nRevolution is a crisis necessary to development.\u201d\n\nThe _R\u00e9v\u00e9lations_ says: \u201cThe poison must be neutralized by means of its\nantidote, revolution must succeed to obedience, vengeance follow upon\neffeminacy, power must grapple with power, and the reign of superstition\nyield before that of the one true natural religion.\u201d\n\nBarruel, who had been a master Mason, states that the oath administered\nto him was: \u201cMy brother, are you prepared to execute every command you\nmay receive from the Grand Master, even should contrary orders be laid on\nyou by king or emperor, or any other ruler whatever?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe grade of Kadosch\u201d--the thirtieth grade--writes Barruel (p. 222),\n\u201cis the soul of Freemasonry, and the final object of its plots is the\nreintroduction of absolute liberty and equality through the destruction\nof all royalty and the abrogation of all religious worship.\u201d\n\n\u201cSocialism, Freemasonry, and communism have, after all, a common origin\u201d\n(The _Latomia_--an organ of the craft--vol. xii. p. 237).\n\n_Le Libertaire_, a Masonic journal published in this city, had the\nfollowing in 1858: \u201cThe _Libertaire_ knows no country but that which is\ncommon to all. He is a sworn foe to restraints of every kind. He hates\nthe boundaries of countries; he hates the boundaries of fields, houses,\nworkshops; he hates the boundaries of family.\u201d\n\nIs it within the power of the human mind to conceive of any possible\nindividual or spiritual incarnation more deeply, vividly, and distinctly\nbranded with the note-mark or sign of Antichrist, given to us by the\nHoly Spirit some two thousand years ago, by which we might recognize him\nwhen he appeared--\u201cthe lawless one,\u201d \u201cspurning authority\u201d--\u1f41 \u1f04\u03bd\u03bf\u03bc\u03bf\u03c2, qui\ncontemnunt dominationem?\n\nAnd when we add to this, the one special and most wicked and lawless\ncharacteristic of the \u201ccraft\u201d--its portentous mystery--to our thinking,\nthey must willingly, and of set purpose, close their eyes who fail\nto detect in it the very Antichrist whom the apostle declares shall\nbe manifested in the last days, after the apostasy, and whom he\ndesignates by the epithet \u03c4\u1f78 \u03bc\u03c5\u03c3\u03c4\u03ae\u03c1\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u1f00\u03bd\u03bf\u03bc\u03af\u03b1\u03c2--\u201cthe mystery of\nlawlessness\u201d--which he tells us had even then, at the very cradle of\nthe church, begun to put in movement its long conspiracy against the\nsalvation of mankind: \u03c4\u1f78 \u03b3\u1f70\u03c1 \u03bc\u03c5\u03c3\u03c4\u03b7\u03c1\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd \u1f22\u03b4\u03b7 \u03b5\u03bd\u03b5\u03c1\u03b3\u03b5\u1fd6\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9 \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2 \u1f00\u03bd\u03bf\u03bc\u03af\u03b1\u03c2--\u201cfor\nthe mystery of lawlessness is even now already working.\u201d\n\nNo sooner was Christ born than his infant life was sought; no sooner\ndid he begin to teach than \u201cthe ancient serpent\u201d sought his ruin; just\nbefore the triumph of his resurrection the enemy of mankind seemed to\nhave finally and completely triumphed in his crucifixion; no sooner had\nhis church, brought to life by his resurrection, begun her work of saving\nmankind than the devil was at work with his \u201cmystery of lawlessness\u201d\nfor her destruction. All along it is Antichrist dogging the steps of\nChrist; before the second coming of Christ there is to be the second\ncoming of Antichrist; before the final triumph over evil and revelation\nof the sons of God, Antichrist is to have that his last open and avowed\nmanifestation--\u1f00\u03c0\u03bf\u03ba\u03ac\u03bb\u03c5\u03c8\u03b9\u03c2--and success, which the craft of Freemasonry is\nalready so far on the road to compassing.\n\nWhether or no he is to receive a serious check before that terrific\ntriumph over all but the few remaining elect we know not. But so\nunmistakable is his present manifestation that it is woe to those who\nblink their eyes and follow in his wake! Woe to those whose judicial\nblindness causes them to \u201cbelieve a lie\u201d! Woe to those who are caught\nnapping!\n\nThe next of the indications given us by the Holy Spirit of the Antichrist\nis his _modus operandi_--his method--the way in which he will effect\nhis purposes, \u201cwhose coming is according to the way of working of\nSatan\u201d--_cujus est adventus secundum operationem Satan\u00e6_.\n\nThe beast with seven heads and ten horns crowned with diadems described\nin the Apocalypse is, we are there told, fully commissioned with his\nown power by the red dragon, whom we are distinctly informed is the old\nserpent, who is called the devil (\u03b4\u03b9\u03ac\u03b2\u03bf\u03bb\u03bf\u03c2, or slanderer), \u201cSatan, who\ndeceives the whole world.\u201d\n\nNow, Satan is designated as \u201cthe prince of darkness\u201d in opposition to\nChrist, \u201cwho is the true light, enlightening every one that cometh\ninto the world\u201d; he is the father of those who \u201chate the light because\ntheir deeds are evil.\u201d When he would destroy Christ, \u201cnight was his\nhour and the power of darkness.\u201d But in taking a survey of the craft of\nFreemasonry, what first seizes our attention? Is it not the profound\ndarkness in which all its operations are veiled? Those terrible oaths of\nsecrecy, made under the assured menace of assassination, attended with\nall that sanguinary gibberish, the lie involved in which is not known\nuntil the \u201cseared conscience\u201d is already in the chains of hell--surely,\nif anything is, these are \u201csecundum operationem Satan\u00e6.\u201d\n\nIn the _Vienna Freemason\u2019s Journal_, MSS. for circulation in the craft,\nsecond year of issue, No. 1, p. 66, is the following: \u201cWe wander amidst\nour adversaries, shrouded in threefold darkness. Their passions serve as\nwires, whereby, unknown to themselves, we set them in motion and compel\nthem unwittingly to work in union with us.\u201d\n\nIn a work written in High-German, the authorship of which is ascribed\nto a Prof. Hoffman of Vienna, the contents of which are supported by\ndocumentary evidence, and of which a Dutch translation was published in\nAmsterdam in 1792, which was reprinted at the Hague in 1826, the method\nof working of this \u201cmystery of lawlessness\u201d is thus summed up:\n\n\u201c2. To effect this, a literary association must be formed to promote the\ncirculation of our writings, and suppress, as far as possible, those of\nour opponents.\n\n\u201c3. For this end we must contrive to have in our pay the publishers of\nthe leading literary journals of the day, in order that they may turn\ninto ridicule and heap contempt on everything written in a contrary\ninterest to our own.\n\n\u201c4. \u2018He that is not with us is against us.\u2019 Therefore we may persecute,\ncalumniate, and tread down such an one without scruple; individuals like\nthis are noxious insects which one shakes from the blossoming tree and\ncrushes beneath one\u2019s foot.\n\n\u201c5. Very few can bear to be made to look ridiculous; let ridicule,\ntherefore, be the weapon employed against persons who, though by no means\ndevoid of sense, show themselves hostile to our schemes.\n\n\u201c6. In order the more quickly to attain our end, the middle classes of\nsociety must be thoroughly imbued with our principles; the lower orders\nand the mass of the population are of little importance, as they may\neasily be moulded to our will. The middle classes are the principal\nsupporters of the government; to gain them we must work on their\npassions, and, above all, bring up the rising generation in our ideas, as\nin a few years they will be in their turn masters of the situation.\n\n\u201c7. License in morals will be the best means of enabling us to provide\nourselves with patrons at court--persons who are nevertheless totally\nignorant of the importance of our cause. It will suffice for our purpose\nif we make them absolutely indifferent to the Christian religion. They\nare for the most part careless enough without us.\n\n\u201c8. If our aims are to be pursued with vigor, it is of absolute necessity\nto regard as enemies of enlightenment and of philosophy all those who\ncling in any way to religious or civil prejudices, and exhibit this\nattachment in their writings. They must be viewed as beings whose\ninfluence is highly prejudicial to the human race, and a great obstacle\nto its well-being and progress. On this account it becomes the duty of\neach one of us to impede their action in all matters of consequence,\nand to seize the first suitable opportunity which may present itself of\nputting them entirely _hors du combat_.\n\n\u201c9. We must ever be on the watch to make all changes in the state serve\nour own ends; political parties, cabals, brotherhoods, and unions--in\nshort, everything that affords an opportunity of creating disturbances\nmust be an instrument in our hands. For it is only on the ruins of\nsociety as it exists at present that we can hope to erect a solid\nstructure on the natural system, and ensure to the worshippers of nature\nthe free exercise of their rights.\u201d\n\nIf this method of working, _operatio_, is not _secundum adventum Satan\u00e6_,\nwe should be glad to know what is. Herein we find every feature of\nAntichrist and his hosts which the Holy Ghost has drawn for our warning.\nThey are heaped together in such hideous combination throughout this\nsummary as scarcely to need particularizing. Our readers may not,\nhowever, be unwilling that we should single them out one by one as they\nappear more or less prominently in the several paragraphs; premising that\nthroughout one characteristic reigns and prevails, and, indeed, lends\nits color to all the rest, that special attribute of \u201cthe father of\nlies\u201d--falsehood!\n\nWe will take the paragraphs in order, and photograph their most prominent\nAntichristian features.\n\n_The first._--Spurning authority. Giving ear to spirits of error and\ndoctrines of demons.\n\nSpeaking lies in hypocrisy, having a conscience seared.\n\nBlasphemers.\n\nMockers, walking according to their own desires; animals, not having the\nSpirit.\n\nMockers in deception, walking according to their own lusts.\n\n_The second and third._--Lovers of themselves, lawless, proud, malicious,\ntraitors, froward, discourteous, fearful, mockers in deception.\n\n_The fourth._--Calumniators, cruel, traitors.\n\n_The fifth._--Mockers in deception.\n\n_The sixth._--Traitors, without affection, without peace.\n\n_The seventh._--Traitors, walking in impieties, walking according to\ntheir own lusts, incontinent.\n\n_The eighth._--Having their conscience seared, without peace, cruel.\n\n_The ninth._--Spurning authority, traitors, lawless, without peace.\n\nIt must be borne in mind, moreover, that these are not merely\nrepulsive infirmities of individuals, but the essential and inevitable\ncharacteristics deliberately adopted by the craft of Freemasons, and\nwhich it cannot be without, if they are the brand which the finger of\nGod has marked upon the loathsome brow of the Antichrist of \u201cthe last\ntime.\u201d[36]\n\nIn illustration of the former of these we quote the words of Brother\nGotthold Salomon, D.Ph., preacher at the new Synagogue at Hamburg, member\nof the lodge entitled \u201cThe Dawn in the East,\u201d in Frankfort-on-Main, who\nthus writes in his _Stimmen aus Osten_, MSS. for the brethren: \u201cWhy is\nthere not a trace of anything appertaining to the Christian Church to be\nfound in the whole ritual of Freemasonry? Why is not the name of Jesus\nonce mentioned, either in the oath administered, or in the prayers on the\nopening of the lodges, or at the Masonic banquets? Why do Masons reckon\ntime, not from the birth of Christ, but from the creation of the world,\nas do the Jews? Why does not Freemasonry make use of a single Christian\nsymbol? Why have we the compasses, the triangle, the hydrometer,\ninstead of the cross and other emblems of the Passion? Why have wisdom,\nbeauty, and strength superseded the Christian triad of faith, hope, and\ncharity?\u201d[37]\n\nBrother Jochmus M\u00fcller, president of the late German-Catholic Church at\nBerlin, says in his _Kirchenreform_ (vol. iii. p. 228): \u201cWe have more in\ncommon with a free-thinking, honest paganism than with a narrow-minded\nChristianity.\u201d[38]\n\nIn the Waarscherwing (vol. xi. Nos. 2 and 8) we find the following:\n\n\u201cThe laws of the Mosaic and Christian religions are the contemptible\ninventions of petty minds bent on deceiving others; they are the most\nextravagant aberrations of the human intellect.\n\n\u201cThe selfishness of priests and the despotism of the great have for\ncenturies upheld this system (Christianity), since it enabled them to\nrule mankind with a rod of iron by means _of its rigid code of morality_,\nand to confirm their power over weak minds by means of certain oracular\nutterances, in reality the product of their own invention, but palmed off\non the world as the words of revelation.\u201d[39]\n\nIn a review of Kirchenlehre and Ketzerglaube by Dr. A. Drechsler in\nvol. iv. of the _Latomia_, we find: \u201cThe last efforts made to uphold\necclesiastical Christianity occasioned its complete expulsion from the\nrealm of reason; for they proved but too plainly that all negotiations\nfor peace must result in failure. Human reason became aware of the\nirreconcilable enmity existing between its own teachings and the dogmas\nof the church.\u201d\n\nAt a congress of Masons held at a villa near Locarno, in the district\nof Novara, preparatory to a socialistic demonstration to be held in the\nColosseum at Rome, in answer to the sapient question, \u201cWhat new form of\nworship is to supersede Catholicism?\u201d the equally sapient answer was\nreturned, \u201cCommunist principles with a new religious ideal.\u201d\n\nFrom a document published, the author of _Secret Warfare of Freemasonry_\ntells us,[40] by the Orient of Brussels, \u201cto the greater glory of the\nSupreme Architect of the world, in the year of _true light_ 5838\u201d (1838),\nwe quote the following:\n\n\u201c1. That at the head of every document issued by the brethren, in an\nindividual or corporate capacity, should stand a profession of faith\nin our lawgiver Jesus, the son of Mary Amram (the Josue of the Old\nTestament), the invariable formula to be employed being, \u2018To the glory of\nthe Great Architect of the Universe,\u2019 \u2026 to expose and oppose the errors\nof pope and priest, who commence everything in the name of their Trinity.\n\n\u2026\n\n\u201c3. That in remembrance of the Last Supper or Christian love-feast\nof Jesus, the Son of Mary Amram, an account of which is given in the\nArabic traditions and in the Koran, a solemn festival should be held,\naccompanied by a distribution of bread, in commemoration of an ancient\ncustom observed by the slaves of eating bread together, and of their\ndeliverance by means of the liberator (Josue). The distribution is to\nbe accompanied by these memorable words: \u2018This is the bread of misery\nand oppression which our fathers were forced to eat under the Pharaos,\nthe priests of Juda; whosoever hungers, let him come and eat; this is\nthe Paschal sacrifice; come unto us, all you who are oppressed; yet this\none year more in Babylon, and the next year shall see us free men!\u2019\nThis instructive, and at the same time commemorative, supper of the\nRosicrucians is the counterpart of the Supper of the Papists.\u201d\n\nDr. Dupuy, indeed, informs us of the corrupt portion of the Order of\nTemplars, that \u201cReceptores dicebant illis quos recipiebant, Christum\nnon esse verum Deum, et ipsum fuisse falsum, non fuisse passum pro\nredemptione humani generis, sed pro sceleribus suis\u201d--\u201cThey who received\nsaid to those whom they received that Christ was not really God; that he\nwas himself false, and did not suffer for the redemption of the human\nrace, but for his own crimes.\u201d\n\nIn harmony with all this was the offensively blasphemous utterance of Mr.\nFrothingham at the Masonic hall in this city some weeks ago, at which the\nNew York _Tablet_ expressed a just indignation--an indignation which must\nhave been shared by all who believe, in any way or form, in Jesus Christ,\nRedeemer of the world: \u201cTom Paine has keyed my moral being up to a higher\nnote than the Jesus of Nazareth.\u201d\n\nThe argument we have advanced seems to us to be convincing enough as it\nstands. Could we have taken a historical survey of the \u03bc\u03c5\u03c3\u03c4\u03ae\u03c1\u03b9\u03bf\u03bd \u03c4\u1fc6\u03c2\n\u03b1\u03bd\u03bf\u03bc\u03af\u03b1\u03c2 in the two hemispheres from the \u201capostasy\u201d up to the present\ntime, but especially during the last fifteen years, it would have\nacquired the force of a logical demonstration. The limits to which we\nare necessarily restrained in a monthly periodical put this completely\nout of our power. Whoever he may be who has intelligently appreciated\nthe political events of the latter period will be able to supply the\ndeficiency for himself. Merely hinting, therefore, at the impossibility\nof getting anti-Freemason appreciations of contemporary events before\nthe public--well known to all whose position has invited them to that\nduty--as an illustration of the plan of action laid down in the second\nclause of the above summary; at the recent unconcealed advocacy of the\n\u201ccraft\u201d by the New York _Herald_, and the more cautious conversion of\nthe London Times,[41] of that in the third; at the ribaldry of the press\nunder Freemason influence directed against the bishops, clergy, and\nprominent laymen, as well as against the Pope; the nicknames they are\nfor ever coining, such as \u201cclericals,\u201d \u201cultramontanes,\u201d \u201cretrogrades,\u201d\n\u201creactionists\u201d; their blasphemous travesties of the solemnities of\nreligion in theatres and places of public resort, and so on, of that\nin the fourth and fifth; at the world-wide effort to induce states to\nexclude religious influences from the education of youth, of that of\nthe sixth; at Victor Emanuel, the Prince of Wales, etc., of that of the\nseventh; at the assassination of Count Rossi at the beginning of the\npresent Pope\u2019s reign, the quite recent assassination of the President of\nEcuador, the repeated attempts at assassination of Napoleon III., the\ndeposition of so many sovereigns, even of the Pope himself--so far as\nit was in their power to depose him--of that of the eighth; and at the\nwhole area of Europe strewn with the wreck of revolution, of that of the\nninth; we pass on to the last two marks of Antichrist with which we brand\nthe Freemason confraternity--_Qui solvit Jesum_ (Who abolishes Christ)\nand _Qui adversatur et extollitur supra omne quod dicitur Deus, aut quod\ncolitur, ita ut in templo Dei sedeat ostendens se tanquam sit Deus_ (Who\nopposes himself to, and raises himself above, all that is called God, or\nis worshipped, so that he may sit in the temple of God, making himself\nout to be, as it were, God).\n\nBarruel, who was completely versed in Freemasonry, and who had been\nhimself a Mason, states (p. 222) that \u201cthe grade of Kadosch is the soul\nof Freemasonry, and the final object of its plots is the reintroduction\nof absolute liberty and equality through the destruction of all royalty\nand the abrogation of all religious worship.\u201d And he backs this statement\nby a tragic incident in the history of a friend of his, who, because he\nwas a Rosicrucian, fancied himself to be \u201cin possession of the entire\nsecret of Freemasonry.\u201d It is too long to admit of our quoting it.\nThe reader anxious for information we refer to _The Secret Warfare of\nFreemasonry_ (pp. 142-144).\n\n_Le Libertaire_, a New York paper, in the interests of Freemasonry, about\nthe year 1858 had the following: \u201cAs far as religion is concerned, the\n_Libertaire_ has none at all; he protests against every creed; he is an\natheist and materialist, openly denying the existence of God and of the\nsoul.\u201d\n\nIn 1793 belief in God was a crime prohibited in France under pain of\ndeath.\n\nThose of our readers who have some acquaintance with modern philosophy\nwe need here only remind of the _natura naturans_ and _natura naturata_\nof Spinoza, born a Jew, but expelled from the synagogue for his advocacy\nof these principles of Freemasonry: \u201cThe desire to find truth is a noble\nimpulse, the search after it a sacred avocation; and ample field for this\nis offered by both the mysterious rites peculiar to the craft and those\nof the Goddess Isis, adored in our temples as the wisest and fairest of\ndeities.\u201d--_Vienna Freemason\u2019s Journal_ (3d year, No. 4, p. 78 et seq.)\n\nIn the _Rappel_, a French organ of Freemasonry, was the following passage\na few weeks ago: \u201cGod is nothing but a creation of the human mind. In a\nword, God is the ideal. If I am accused of being an atheist, I should\nreply I prefer to be an atheist, and have of God an idea worthy of him,\nto being a spiritualist and make of God a being impossible and absurd.\u201d\n\nIn short, the craft is so far advanced in its course of triumph as to\nhave at length succeeded in familiarizing the public ear with the denial\nof the existence of a God; so that it is now admitted as one amongst the\n\u201copen questions\u201d of philosophy.\n\nOur illustration of the crowning indications of the satanic mark of\nAntichrist afforded by the Freemasons--the sitting in the temple of God,\nso as to make himself out to be, as it were, God--will be short but\ndecisive.\n\nThe well-known passage in the last work of the late Dr. Strauss, to the\neffect that any worship paid to a supposed divine being is an outrage on\n_the dignity of human nature_, goes far enough, we should have thought,\nin this direction; but they go beyond even this.\n\nA Dutch Mason, N. J. Mouthan, in a work entitled _Naa een werknur\nin\u2019t Middenvertrek Losse Bladzijde; Zaarboekje voor Nederlandsche\nVrijmetselaren_ (5872, p. 187 et seq.), says: \u201cThe spirit which animates\nus is an eternal spirit; it knows no division of time or individual\nexistence. A sacred unity pervades the wide firmament of heaven; it is\nour one calling, our one duty, our one God. Yes, we are God! We ourselves\nare God!\u201d\n\nIn the Freemasons\u2019 periodical \u201cfor circulation amongst the brethren\u201d\n(Altenberg, 1823, vol. i., No. 1) is the following: \u201cThe idea of religion\nindirectly includes all men as men; but in order to comprehend this\naright, a certain degree of education is necessary, and unfortunately\nthe overweening egoism of the educated classes prevents their taking\nin so sublime a conception of mankind. For this reason our temples\nconsecrated to the _worship of humanity_ can as yet be opened only to a\nfew.[42] We should, indeed, expose ourselves to a charge of idolatry,\nwere we to attempt to personify the moral idea of humanity in the way\nin which divinity is usually personified.\u2026 On this account, therefore,\nit is advisable not to reveal the cultus of humanity to the eyes of the\nuninitiated, until at length the time shall come when, from east to west,\nthis lofty conception of humanity shall find a place in every breast,\nthis worship shall alone prevail, and all mankind shall be gathered into\none fold and one family.\u201d\n\nThe principles of this united family, \u201cseated in the temple of God,\u201d\nthe Masonic philosopher Helvetius expounds to us; from whom we learn\nthat \u201cwhatever is beneficial to all in general may be called virtue;\nwhat is prejudicial, vice and sin. Here the voice of interest has\nalone to speak.\u2026 Passions are only the intensified expression of\nself-interest in the individual; witness the Dutch people, who, when\nhatred and revenge urged them to action, achieved great triumphs, and\nmade their country a powerful and glorious name. And as sensual love is\nuniversally acknowledged to afford happiness, purity must be condemned\nas pernicious, the marriage bond done away with, and children declared\nto be the property of the state.\u201d[43] The father of such a \u201cone fold and\none family\u201d no one not himself signed with the \u201cmark of the beast\u201d could\nhesitate to point out. The consummation above anticipated we are bid to\nexpect. Nor is it now far off. They who are not \u201cdeceived\u201d have, however,\nthe consoling assurance that _our_ Lord will \u201cslay him with the spirit of\nhis mouth, and destroy him with the illumination of his coming.\u201d\n\n\nSIR THOMAS MORE.\n\n_A HISTORICAL ROMANCE._\n\nFROM THE FRENCH OF THE PRINCESSE DE CRAON.\n\nII.\n\n\u201cYou understand, M. de Soria,\u201d said Wolsey to one of his secretaries, in\nwhom he placed the greatest confidence. \u201cAs soon as you see him, present\nyourself before him, give the usual password, and then conduct him\nthrough the subterranean passage that leads to the banks of the Thames.\nBring him here by the secret stairway. He will be dressed in a cloak and\nsuit of brown clothes, wearing a black felt hat tied round with a red\nribbon.\u201d\n\n\u201cMy lord, you may feel perfectly satisfied,\u201d replied the secretary with a\nself-sufficient air, \u201cthat all your orders will be punctually executed.\nBut he cannot possibly arrive for an hour yet; I will vouch for that, my\nlord.\u201d\n\n\u201cGo, however, sir,\u201d replied the minister, impatiently; \u201cI fear being\ntaken by surprise. Have less confidence in your own calculations, sir,\nand be more prompt in your actions.\u201d And saying this he made a sign for\nhim to go at once.\n\nThe door had scarcely closed on Soria, when the cardinal, who sat writing\nin silence, heard in the court of the chancellor\u2019s palace an unusual\nnoise. For some time he continued his work; but the tumult increasing,\nand hearing loud bursts of laughter, he arose, opened the window and went\nout on a high balcony, whence he had a view of all that was passing in\nthe principal court.\n\nThere a crowd of servants had assembled, and formed a circle around an\nold woman who was apparently the object of their ridicule. Her large felt\nhat, around which was tied a band of red ribbon, had fallen to the ground\nleaving uncovered, not the head of an old woman, as they had supposed,\nbut one thickly covered with short hair, black and curling.\n\nOn seeing this head-dress the crowd redoubled their cries, and one of\nthem advancing suddenly, raised the mask concealing the features. What\nwas their surprise to find under that disguise a great rubicund face,\nthe nose and cheeks of which were reddened with the glow that wine\nand strong drink alone produce, and giving sufficient evidence of the\nsex to which it belonged. The man, seeing he was discovered, defended\nhimself with vigor, and, dealing sharp blows with his feet and hands,\nendeavored to escape from his tormentors; but he was unable to resist\ntheir superior numbers. They threw themselves upon him, tearing off his\nbrown cloak, and one of his blue cotton petticoats. The wretched creature\ncried out vociferously, loudly threatening them with the indignation of\nthe cardinal; but the valets heard nothing, vain were all his efforts\nto escape them. Nevertheless, being exceedingly robust, he at length\nsucceeded in overthrowing two of his antagonists, and then, dashing\nacross the courtyard, he sprang quickly into the second court, where,\nfinding a ladder placed at the window of a granary, he clambered up with\nall the dexterity of a frightened cat, and hid himself under a quantity\nof straw which had been stored there. In the meantime, the cardinal had\nrecognized from his elevated position on the balcony the red ribbon that\nannounced the messenger for whom he awaited with so much anxiety. Greatly\nenraged at the scene before him, and forgetting his dignity, he hurried\nfrom the balcony, rushing through the apartments that led from his own\nroom (in which were seated the numerous secretaries of state, engaged\nin the work of the government). Without addressing a word to them, he\ndescended the stairs so rapidly that in another instant he stood in the\nmidst of his servants, who were stupefied at finding themselves in the\npresence of their master, all out of breath, bareheaded, and almost\nsuffocated with indignation. He commanded them in the most emphatic terms\nto get out of his sight, which they did without waiting for a repetition\nof the order. From every direction the pages and secretaries had\nassembled, among them being M. de Soria, who was in great trepidation,\nfearing some accident had happened to the individual whom he had been\ninstructed to introduce with such great secrecy into the palace. His\nfears were more than realized on seeing the cardinal, who cast on him\na glance of intense anger, and in a loud voice exclaimed: \u201cGo, sir, to\nthe assistance of this unfortunate man who is being subjected to such\noutrages in my own house. Not a few of those who have attempted to drive\nhim off shall themselves be sent away!\u201d Then the cardinal, giving an\nauthoritative signal, those around him understood that their presence was\nno longer desired, and immediately ascended the stairs and returned to\ntheir work.\n\nWolsey himself quickly followed them; and M. de Soria, greatly confused,\nin a short time appeared and ushered into the minister\u2019s cabinet the\nmessenger, who was still suffering from the effects of the contest in\nwhich he had been compelled to engage.\n\n\u201cYour letters! your letters!\u201d said Wolsey eagerly, as soon as they were\nalone. \u201cAll is right, Wilson. I am satisfied. I see that you are no\ncoward, and all that you have just now suffered will be turned to your\nadvantage. Nevertheless, it is quite fortunate that I came to your rescue\nwhen I did, for I really do not know what those knaves might have done to\nyou.\u201d\n\n\u201cThey would have thrown me into the water, I believe, like a dog,\u201d said\nWilson, laughing. \u201cOh! that was nothing though. I have been through worse\nthan that in my life. All I was afraid of was, that they might discover\nthe package of letters and the money.\u201d\n\nAs he said this, the courier proceeded to unfasten the buckles of an\nundervest, made of chamois leather, that he wore closely strapped around\nhis body. After he had taken off the vest he unfastened a number of bands\nof woollen cloth which were crossed on his breast. In each one of these\nbands was folded a great number of letters, of different forms and sizes.\nThen he unstrapped from his waist and laid on the table a belt that\ncontained quite a large sum of money in gold coin, that Francis I. had\nsent to the minister. The avarice of Wolsey was so well understood by\nthe different princes and sovereigns of Europe that they were accustomed\nto send him valuable presents, or to confer on him rich annuities,\nwhenever they wished to gain him over to their interests. Wolsey had for\na long time been engaged in a correspondence with France. He carried\nit on with the utmost secrecy, for he well understood if discovered by\nHenry he would never be pardoned. His apprehensions were still greater,\nnow that he was endeavoring to direct the influence of his political\nschemes, and that of the paid agents whom he had at the different courts\nof Europe, towards bringing about a reconciliation between the Emperor\nCharles V. and the King of France; hoping by such an alliance to prevent\nthe marriage of the king with Anne Boleyn, and thus to destroy the hopes\nof that ambitious family. He saw with intense satisfaction his intrigues\nsucceeding far beyond his most sanguine expectations.\n\nFrancis I. anxiously entreated him to use his influence with the King of\nEngland, in order to dispose him favorably toward the treaty of peace\nwhich he was determined to make with Charles V. \u201cI assure you,\u201d he wrote,\n\u201cthat I have so great a desire to see my children, held so long now as\nhostages, that I would without hesitation willingly give the half of my\nkingdom to ensure that happiness. If you will aid me in removing the\nobstacles that Henry may interpose to the accomplishment of this purpose,\nyou may count on my gratitude. The place of meeting is already arranged;\nwe have chosen the city of Cambrai; and I have felt great pleasure in the\nassurance that you prefer, above all other places, that the conference\nshould be held in that city.\u201d Charmed with his success, the cardinal sent\nimmediately in quest of Cromwell, whom he found every day becoming more\nand more indispensable to him, and to whom he wished to communicate the\nhappiness he experienced in receiving this joyful intelligence; but, at\nthe same time, closely concealing the manner in which he had obtained the\ninformation.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nOn a terrace of Windsor Castle a tent had been erected of heavy Persian\ncloth interwoven with silk and gold. Voluminous curtains of royal purple,\nartistically looped on each side with heavy silk cords, descended in\ninnumerable folds of most graceful drapery. Rare flowers embalmed the\nair in every direction with exquisite perfumes, which penetrated into an\napartment of the royal palace, through the open windows of which were\nseen the richness and elegance of the interior.\n\nIn this apartment were seated three persons apparently engaged in an\nanimated conversation.\n\n\u201cSo there is yet another difficulty!\u201d cried a young girl, a charming and\nbeautiful blonde, who seemed at this moment in an extremely impatient and\nexcited mood. \u201cBut what say you?\u201d she added presently, addressing herself\nwith vivacity to a gentleman seated immediately in front of her; \u201cspeak\nnow, Sir Cromwell; say, what would you do in this desperate situation? Is\nthere no way in which we can prevent this treaty from being concluded?\u201d\n\n\u201cWell truly, madam,\u201d he replied, \u201cit will be useless to attempt it. The\nDuchess of Angoul\u00eame has at this moment, perhaps, already arrived at\nCambrai, for the purpose of signing the treaty; and we cannot reasonably\nhope that the Archduchess Margaret, who accompanies her, will not agree\nwith her on every point, since the preliminaries have already been\nsecretly concluded between the Emperor and the King of France.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, my dear Cromwell,\u201d she replied, in a familiar and angry tone,\n\u201cwhat shall we do then?\u201d\n\n\u201cIf I have any counsel to give you, madam,\u201d answered Cromwell, with an\nair of importance, \u201cit is to begin by preventing the king from consenting\nto the departure of Cardinal Wolsey; because his greatest desire now\nis to be sent as envoy to the congress at Cambrai, and you may be well\nassured, if he wishes to go there, it is certainly not with the intention\nof being useful to you, but, on the contrary, to injure you.\u201d\n\n\u201cDo you think so?\u201d replied Lady Anne. \u201cThen I shall most certainly\nendeavor to prevent him from making his appearance there. But has he told\nyou nothing about the letter I wrote him the other day?\u201d\n\n\u201cExcuse me, madam,\u201d replied Cromwell, \u201che has shown me the letter; in\nfact, he conceals nothing from me.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell! and did it not give him pleasure? It seemed to me it ought to\nplease him, for I made protestations of friendship sufficient to reassure\nhim, and remove all apprehensions he may have felt that I would injure\nhim in the estimation of the king.\u201d\n\n\u201cHe has said nothing to me on the subject,\u201d replied Cromwell, \u201cbut I\nremarked that he read the letter over several times, and when he handed\nit to me it was with a very ominous shake of the head. Understanding so\nwell his every gesture and thought, I comprehended perfectly he was but\nlittle convinced of what you had written, and that he has no confidence\nin it. Moreover, madam, it is necessary that you should know that Wolsey\nhas been most active in his endeavors to forward the divorce so long as\nhe believed the king would espouse a princess of the house of France; but\nsince he knows it is _you_ he has chosen, his mind is entirely changed,\nand he tries in every possible manner to retard the decision and render\nsuccess impossible.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is clear as day, my dear sister!\u201d exclaimed Lord Rochford, earnestly\ninterrupting Cromwell. \u201cYou know nothing about the affairs you are\ntrying to manage; therefore you will never be able to rid yourself of\nthis imperious minister. I have already told you that all your efforts\nto flatter or appease him will be in vain. He believes you fear him, and\nhe likes you no better on that account. What Cromwell says is but too\ntrue, and is verified by the fact that nothing advances in this affair.\nEvery day some new formalities are introduced, or advantages claimed,\nor they wait for new instructions and powers. They tell us constantly\nthat Campeggio is inflexible; that nothing will induce him to deviate\nfrom his instructions and the usages of the court of Rome. But whom\nhas he chosen--with whom has he conferred? Is it not Wolsey? And he\nhas certainly prevented us from obtaining anything but what he himself\ndesigned to accomplish.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are right, brother!\u201d cried Anne Boleyn, with a sudden gesture of\ndispleasure. \u201cIt is necessary to have this haughty and jealous minister\nremoved. Henceforth all my efforts shall be directed to this end. It may,\nperhaps, be less difficult than we suppose. The king has been violently\nopposed to this treaty, which Wolsey has so earnestly labored to bring\nabout--or at least the king suspects him of it--and he told me yesterday\nthat it was vain for the king of France to address him as \u2018his good\nbrother and perpetual ally,\u2019 for he regarded as enemies all who presumed\nto oppose his will. \u2018Because,\u2019 he added, \u2018I understand very well,\nbeforehand, what their terms will be. Once become the ally of Charles V.,\nFrancis will use all his efforts to prevent the repudiation of his aunt;\nbut nothing under heaven shall divert me from my purpose. I will resist\nall the counsels he may give me!\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cHe is much disappointed,\u201d said Lord Rochford, \u201cthat the Pope should have\nbeen raised, as it were, from the dead. His death would have greatly\nlessened these difficulties; for he holds firmly to his opinions. I am\nmuch deceived, or the commission of legates will pass all their time, and\na very long time too, without coming to any decision.\u201d\n\nAs Lord Rochford made this remark, his wife, the sister-in-law of Anne\nBoleyn, entered the apartment, accompanied by the young wife of Lord\nDacre. Now, as Lady Rochford belonged entirely to the queen\u2019s adherents,\nand Lady Anne was very much in fear of her, the tone of conversation was\nimmediately changed, becoming at once general and indifferent.\n\n\u201cThe Bishop of Rochester has returned to London,\u201d carelessly remarked\nAnne Boleyn, as she stooped to pick up a little embroidered glove.\n\n\u201cYes, madam,\u201d replied Cromwell. \u201cI have seen him, and I find him looking\nquite old and feeble.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! I am truly sorry to hear it,\u201d replied Lady Anne; \u201cthe king is very\nmuch attached to him. I have often heard him say he regarded him as the\nmost learned and remarkable man in England, and that he congratulated\nhimself on possessing in his kingdom a prelate so wise, virtuous, and\naccomplished.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat would you wish, madam?\u201d replied Cromwell, who never could suffer\nany one to be eulogized in his presence; \u201call these old men should give\nplace to us--it is but just; they have had their time.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! Sir Cromwell,\u201d replied Lady Boleyn, smiling, \u201cyou have no desire,\nI am sure, to be made bishop; therefore, the place he will leave vacant\nwill not be the one for you.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou have decided that question very hastily, madam. Who knows? I may one\nday, perhaps, be a curate. It has been predicted of me.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! that would indeed be a very strange sight,\u201d she replied, laughing\naloud. \u201cYou certainly have neither the turn nor the taste for the office.\nHow would you ever manage to leave off the habit of frequenting our\ndrawing-rooms? Truly we could not afford to lose you, and would certainly\nget up a general revolt, opposing your ordination, rather than be\ndeprived of your invaluable society.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are very kind, madam,\u201d said Cromwell; \u201cbut I should perhaps not\nbe so ridiculous as you imagine. I should wear a grave and severe\ncountenance and an air of the greatest austerity.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! I understand you now,\u201d she replied; \u201cyou would not be converted;\nyou would only become a hypocrite!\u201d\n\n\u201cI have a horror of hypocrites!\u201d said Cromwell scornfully.\n\n\u201cI wonder what you are, then?\u201d thought Lady Rochford.\n\n\u201cAnd I also,\u201d replied Lady Anne. \u201cI have a perfect detestation of\nhypocrites; it is better to be bad out and out!\u201d\n\n\u201cIs it true there has been a riot in the city?\u201d asked Lady Rochford.\n\n\u201cYes, madam,\u201d replied Cromwell; \u201cbut it was suppressed on the spot. It\nwas only a hundred wool-spinners, carders, and drapers, who declared they\nwere no longer able to live since the market of the Netherlands has been\nclosed, and that they would soon starve if their old communications were\nnot re-established. The most mutinous were arrested, the others were\nfrightened and quickly dispersed.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh!\u201d said Lord Rochford, \u201cthere is nothing to fear from such a rabble\nas that; they are too much afraid of their necks. Let them clamor, and\nlet us give ourselves no uneasiness on the subject. I met Sir Thomas More\nthis morning going to the king with a petition which they had addressed\nto him yesterday.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy was he charged with the commission?\u201d asked young Lady Dacre.\n\n\u201cIn virtue of his office as sheriff of the city,\u201d replied Cromwell.\n\n\u201cHe constitutes, then, part of our city council?\u201d she replied. \u201cHe is a\nman I have the greatest desire to know; they say such marvellous things\nof him, and I find his poetry full of charming and noble thoughts.\u201d\n\n\u201cI see,\u201d replied Cromwell, \u201cyou have not read the spirited satire just\nwritten by Germain de Brie? It points out the perfectly prodigious\nfaults of More\u2019s productions. It is certainly an _anti-Morus_!\u201d\n\n\u201cI am inclined to think your opinion is prompted by a spirit of jealousy,\nSir Cromwell,\u201d answered Lady Rochford, sharply. \u201cRead, madam,\u201d she\ncontinued, addressing young Lady Sophia Dacre, \u201chis _History of Richard\nIII._; I suppose Sir Cromwell will, at least, accord some merit to that\nwork?\u201d\n\n\u201cEntirely too light, and superficial indeed, madam,\u201d said Cromwell;\n\u201cthe author has confined himself wholly to a recital of the crimes\nwhich conducted the prince to the throne. The style of that history is\nvery negligent, but, at the same time, very far above that of his other\nworks, and particularly of his _Utopia_, which is a work so extravagant,\na political system so impracticable, that I regard the book simply as\na wonderful fable, agreeable enough to listen to, but at which one is\nobliged to laugh afterwards when thinking of the absurdities it contains.\u201d\n\n\u201cYour judgment is as invidious as it is false!\u201d exclaimed Lady Rochford,\nwho always expressed her opinions bluntly, and without dissimulation. \u201cIf\nit is true,\u201d she continued, \u201cthat this philosophical dream can never be\nrealized, yet it is nevertheless impossible not to admire the wise and\nvirtuous maxims it contains. Above all others there is one I have found\nso just, and so beautifully conceived, I could wish every young girl\ncapable of teaching it to her future husband. \u2018How can it be supposed,\u2019\nsays the author, \u2018that any man of honor and refinement could resolve\nto abandon a virtuous woman, who had been the companion of his bosom,\nand in whose society he had passed so many days of happiness; only\nbecause time, at whose touch all things fade, had laid his destroying\nhand upon the lovely features of that gentle wife, once so cherished and\nadored? Because age, which has been the first and most incurable of all\nthe infirmities she has been compelled to drag after her, had forcibly\ndespoiled her of the charming freshness of her youth? Has that husband\nnot enjoyed the flower of her beauty and garnered in the most beautiful\ndays of her life, and will he forsake his wife now because she has become\nfeeble, delicate, and suffering? Shall he become inconstant and perjured\nat the very moment when her sad condition demands of him a thousand\nsacrifices, and claims a return to the faithful devotion and vows of\nhis early youth? Ah! into such a depth of unworthiness and degradation\nwe will not presume it possible for any man to descend! It was thus the\npeople of the Utopian Isle reasoned, declaring it would be the height of\ninjustice and barbarity to abandon one whom we had loved and cherished,\nand who had been so devoted to us, at the moment when suffering and\naffliction demanded of us renewed sympathy and a generous increase of\nour tenderest care and consolations!\u2019[44] And now, my dear sister,\u201d she\nadded, fixing her eyes steadfastly on Lady Boleyn, \u201cwhat do you think\nof that passage? Are you not forcibly struck by the truth and justice\nof the sentiment? Let me advise you when you marry to be well satisfied\nbeforehand that your husband entertains the same opinions.\u201d\n\nAs she heard these last words the beautiful face of Anne Boleyn became\nsuddenly suffused with a deep crimson, and for some moments not a word\nwas uttered by any one around her. They understood perfectly well that\nLady Rochford\u2019s remarks were intended to condemn in the most pointed\nmanner the king\u2019s conduct towards the queen, whose failing health was\nentirely attributable to the mortification and suffering she endured on\naccount of her husband\u2019s ingratitude and ill-treatment.\n\nIn the meantime, the silence becoming every moment more and more\nembarrassing, Anne Boleyn, forcibly assuming an air of gayety, declared\nher sister was disposed to look very far into the future; \u201cbut,\u201d she\nadded, \u201chappily, my dear sister, neither you nor I are in a condition to\ndemand all those tender cares due to age and infirmity.\u201d\n\n\u201cCome, ladies, let us go,\u201d said Cromwell in a jesting tone, hoping to\nrender himself agreeable to Lady Anne by relieving the embarrassment the\nconversation had caused her. \u201cI am unable to express my admiration for\nLady Rochford. She understands too well the practice of the Utopian laws\nnot to wish for the position of Dean of the Doctors of the University of\nOxford.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are very complimentary and jocose, sir,\u201d replied Lady Rochford;\n\u201cand if you wish it, I will introduce you to one who will be personally\nnecessary if you should ever aspire to fill a position in that kingdom.\nYou must know, however, that their wise law-giver, Utopia, while he\naccorded to each one liberty of conscience, confined that liberty within\nlegitimate and righteous bounds, in order to prevent the promulgation\nof the pernicious doctrines of pretended philosophers, who endeavor\nto debase the dignity of our exalted human nature; he also severely\ncondemned every opinion tending to degenerate into pure materialism,\nor, what is more deplorable still, veritable atheism. The Utopians were\ntaught to believe in the reality of a future state, and in future rewards\nand punishments. They detested and denounced all who presumed to deny\nthese truths, and, far from admitting them to the rank of citizens, they\nrefused even to class among men those who debased themselves to the\nabject condition of vile animals. \u2018What,\u2019 they asked, \u2018can be done with\na creature devoid of principle and without faith, whose only restraint\nis fear of punishment, who without that fear would violate every law\nand trample under foot those wise rules and regulations which alone\nconstitute the bulwark of social order and happiness? What confidence\ncan be reposed in an individual purely sensual, living without morals\nand without hope, recognizing no obligation but to himself alone; who\nlimits his happiness to the present moment; whose God is his body; whose\nlaw, his own pleasures and passions, in the gratification of which he\nis at all times ready to proceed to the extremity of crime, provided he\ncan find means of escaping the vigilant eye of justice, and be a villain\nwith impunity? Such infamous characters are of course excluded from all\nparticipation in municipal affairs, and all positions of honor and public\ntrust; they are veritable automatons, abandoned to the \u201cerror of their\nways,\u201d wretched, wandering \u201ccumberers of the earth\u201d on which they live!\u2019\nYou perceive, Sir Cromwell,\u201d continued Lady Rochford ironically, \u201cthat\nmy profound knowledge and retentive memory may prove very useful to you,\nshould you ever arrive at the Utopian Isle, for you must be convinced\nthat your own opinions would meet with very little favor in that country.\u201d\n\nCromwell, humiliated to the last degree, vainly endeavored to reply\nwith his usual audacity and spirit. Finding all efforts to recover his\nself-possession impossible, he stammered forth a few incoherent words,\nand hastily took his leave.\n\nThe desire of winning the approbation of Anne Boleyn at the expense\nof her sister-in-law had caused him to commit a great blunder, and\nhe received nothing in return to remove the caustic arrows from his\nhumiliated and deeply wounded spirit. Extremely brilliant and animated in\nconversation, Lady Rochford was accustomed to \u201chaving the laugh entirely\non her own side,\u201d which, knowing so very well, Anne had pretended not\nto understand the conversation, although the remarks had been so very\npiquant.\n\nAs soon as he had retired Cromwell became the subject of conversation,\nand Anne timidly, and with no little hesitation, ventured to remonstrate\nwith her sister-in-law, expressing her regret that the conversation\nshould have been made so personal, as she liked Cromwell very much.\n\n\u201cAnd that is just what you are wrong in doing,\u201d replied Lady Rochford;\n\u201cfor he is a deceitful and dangerous man! He pretends to be extremely\ndevoted to you, but it is only because he believes he can make you\nuseful to himself; and he is full of avarice and ambition. This you\nwill discover when it is perhaps too late, and I advise you to reflect\nseriously on the subject. It is so cruel to be mistaken in the choice of\na friend that, truly, the surer and better way would seem to be, to form\nno friendships at all! There are so few, so very few, whose affections\nare pure and disinterested, that they scarcely ever withstand the ordeal\nof misfortune, or the loss of those extraneous advantages with which they\nfound us surrounded.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou speak like a book, my dear sister,\u201d cried Lady Boleyn, laughing\naloud; \u201cjust like a book that has been sent me from France, with such\nbeautiful silver clasps.\u201d\n\nSaying this, she ran to fetch the book, which she had opened that evening\nin the middle, not having sufficient curiosity to examine the title or\ninquire the name of the author of the volume. She opened it naturally\nat the same place, and read what follows, which was, as far as could be\ndiscovered, the fragment of a letter:\n\n\u201cYou ask me for the definition of a friend! In reply, I am compelled to\ndeclare that the term has become so vague and so obscure, it has been\nused in so many senses, and applied to so many persons, I shall first\nbe obliged to give you a description of what is called a friend in\nthe world--a title equivalent, in my estimation, to the most complete\nindifference, intermingled at the same time with no insignificant degree\nof envy and jealousy. For instance, I hear M. de Cl\u00e8ves speaking of his\nfriend M. Joyeuse, and he remarks simply: \u2018I know more about him than\nanybody else; I have been his most intimate friend for a great many\nyears; he is meanly avaricious--I have reproached him for it a hundred\ntimes.\u2019 A little further on, and I hear the great Prof. de Chaumont\nexclaim, \u2018Valentino d\u2019Alsinois is a most charming woman; everybody is\ndevoted to her. But this popularity cannot last long--she is full of\nvanity; intolerably conceited and silly; it really amuses me!\u2019 I go\non still further, and meet a friend who takes me enthusiastically by\nboth hands: \u2018Oh! I expected a visit from you yesterday, and was quite\nin despair that you did not come! You know how delighted I always am to\nsee you, and how highly I appreciate your visits!\u2019 But I happen to have\nvery keen eyes, and an ear extremely acute and delicate; and I distinctly\nheard her whisper to her friend as I approached them, \u2018How fortunate\nI have been to escape this visit!\u2019 What a change! I did not think it\ncould last long. Well, with friends like these you will find the world\ncrowded; they will obstruct, so to speak, every hour of your life; but it\nis rare indeed to encounter one who is true and loyal, a friend of the\nheart! A man truly virtuous: and sincerely religious is alone capable\nof comprehending and loving with pure and exalted friendship. A man of\nthe world, on the contrary, accustomed to refer everything to himself,\nand consulting his own desires, becomes his own idol, and on the altar\nof _self_ offers up the only sincere worship of which his sordid soul is\ncapable. And you will find he will always end by sacrificing to his own\ninterests and passions the dearest interests of the being who confided in\nhis friendship.\n\n\u201cBut with the sincere and earnest friend, love and gratitude are\nnecessities of his nature; they constitute the unbroken chain which links\nall pure and reasonable friendship. He will assist his friend in all\nemergencies, for he has assumed in a manner even his responsibilities.\nHe will never flatter; his counsel and advice, on the contrary, may be\nseverely administered, because it is impossible to be happy without\nbeing virtuous, and the happiness of his friend is as dear to him as his\nown. He is ready to sacrifice his own interests to those of his friend,\nand none would dare attack his friend\u2019s reputation in his presence;\nfor they know he will defend and sustain him under all circumstances,\nsympathizing in his misfortunes, mingling tears with his tears--in a\nword, that it is another self whom they would presume to attack.\n\n\u201cDeath itself cannot dissolve the ties of such an affection--the soul,\nnearer to God, will continue to implore unceasingly for him the divine\nbenediction. Oh! what joy, what happiness, to participate in a friendship\nso pure and exalted! He who can claim one such friend possesses a source\nof unbounded joy, and an inexhaustible consolation of which cruel\nadversity can never deprive him. If prosperity dazzles him with its\ndangerous splendor, if sorrow pierce him with her dart, if melancholy\nannihilate the life of his soul, then ever near him abides this friend,\nlike a precious gift which God alone had power to bestow!\u201d\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nQueen Catherine was walking in that portion of the vast grounds of\nGreenwich called the Queen\u2019s Garden, which in happier days had often been\nher favorite retreat. Jets of limpid water (conveyed by means of pipes\nthrough the grounds) burst in every direction, and then fell in silvery\nshowers among the lovely parterres of flowers, and covered the green\nvelvet turf with a glittering veil of diamond-like spray. On the bosom of\nthe murmuring waters floated myriads of leaves and flowers, flung with\ngentle hand by the wooing breeze, while thousands of gold fishes sported\namid their crystal depths. The eye of the stranger was at once arrested\nand ravished by these marvels of nature and art, admiring the power and\nriches thus united; but the queen, with slow and painful steps, only\nsought this solitude for liberty there to indulge her tears in silence\nand oblivion.\n\nAt no great distance Mary, full of joy, engaged in the sportive plays of\nthe ladies of the queen. A golden insect or a brilliant butterfly was the\nonly conquest to which she aspired. Gaily flitting from place to place,\nwith step so light that her little feet scarcely impressed the delicate\nwhite sand covering the walks, her shouts of expectation and happiness\nwere still powerless to rejoice the maternal heart.\n\nCatherine hastily withdrew from the scene. Fatigued and worn with\nsuffering, she regarded with painful indifference all that surrounded her.\n\nIn the meantime one of the gardeners advanced towards her and presented a\nbouquet.\n\n\u201cGive it,\u201d said she, \u201cto one of my ladies.\u201d And she turned away; but the\ngardener would not withdraw. \u201cThe queen does not recognize me,\u201d he said\nat length in a low voice.\n\n\u201cAh! More,\u201d exclaimed Catherine, greatly agitated. \u201cFriend always\nfaithful! But why expose yourself thus to serve me? Go on. I will\nfollow!\u201d And Catherine continued her walk until she reached a wide and\nextended avenue planted with venerable old lindens.\n\n\u201cMore,\u201d she exclaimed, trembling with fear, yet still indulging a slight\nhope, \u201cwhat have you to tell me? Speak, oh! speak quickly! I fear we may\nbe observed; every step of mine is watched.\u201d\n\n\u201cMadam,\u201d cried More, \u201ca general peace has been concluded. The emperor\u2019s\ndifficulty with the Holy See is ended; he consents to surrender all the\nconquered territory originally belonging to the Ecclesiastical States.\nHe binds himself to re-establish the dominion of the Medici in Florence;\nhe abandons Sforza, leaving the Pope absolute master of the destiny\nof that prince and the sovereignty of the Milanese. Urged on by these\nconcessions, the two princesses cut short their negotiations, and the\ntreaty between France and Austria was concluded immediately. Your appeal\nand protestation have been despatched, and conveyed safely out of the\nkingdom. The messenger to whom they were entrusted was most rigorously\nsearched, but the papers were so securely and adroitly concealed they\nwere not discovered. They were carried to Antwerp by Peter Gilles, the\n\u2018friend of my heart,\u2019 and from thence he despatched them to Rome. Hope,\ntherefore hope; let us all hope!\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! More,\u201d replied the queen, who had listened with deep anxiety, \u201cwould\nthat I were able to acknowledge your services as I appreciate them.\nYour friendship has been my only consolation. But I know not why it is,\nhope every day grows more and more faint in my heart. And so utterly\ninsensible to joy have I become that it seems now I am incapable of aught\nbut suffering, and that for me I fear greater sorrow is to be added.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat do you say, madam?\u201d replied More. \u201cHow sadly discouraging and\npainful to your servants to hear such reflections from you at the very\nmoment when everything becomes favorable to your cause. The emperor will\nuse his influence at the court of Rome, and Francis, between the two\nallies, will at least be forced to remain neutral.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat were the conditions of the Treaty of Cambrai?\u201d asked the queen.\n\n\u201cThey were very hard and exacting,\u201d replied More. \u201cThe king of France\nentirely renounces his pretensions to Burgundy and Italy; thus nine years\nof war, the battle of Pavia, and a humiliating captivity, become of no\navail. He sacrifices all, even his allies. Fearing to add to these harsh\nconditions the reconciliation of their interests, he abandoned to the\nmercy of the emperor, without the slightest stipulation, the Venetians,\nthe Florentines, the Duke of Ferrara, and the Neapolitan barons who were\nattached to his arms.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat a cruel error!\u201d exclaimed the queen. \u201cThe prince has surely\nforgotten that even in political and state affairs, he who once\nsacrifices his friends cannot hope to recall them ever again to his\nsupport. It is very evident that he has not more prudent nor wise\ncounsellors in his cabinet than skilful and accomplished generals in the\nfield. Who now among them all can be compared with Pescaire, Anthony de\nL\u00eave, or the Prince of Orange?\u201d\n\n\u201cHe might have had them, madam, if his own negligence and the wickedness\nof his courtiers had not alienated and driven them away. The Constable\nof Bourbon, Moran, and Doria would have powerfully counterbalanced the\ntalents and influence of the chiefs you have just named, had the king of\nFrance engaged them in his own cause, instead of having to encounter them\nin the ranks of his enemies. His undaunted courage and personal valor,\nhowever, have alone caused the unequal and hopeless contest to be so long\ncontinued.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd what does your king say of these affairs?\u201d asked the queen,\nanxiously.\n\n\u201cAlas! madam, he seems but little satisfied,\u201d responded More, hesitating.\n\n\u201cThat is just as I suspected,\u201d replied the queen. \u201cYes, it is because\nhe foresees new obstacles to the unjust divorce he is prosecuting with\nso much ardor. O More!\u201d she continued, bursting into tears, \u201cwhat have\nI done to merit such cruel treatment? When I look back on the happy\nyears of my youth, the years when he loved me so tenderly; when I recall\nthe devoted and affectionate demonstrations of those days, and compare\nthem with the actual rudeness and severity of the present, my bleeding\nheart is crushed by this sorrow! What have I done, More, to lose thus so\nsuddenly and entirely my husband\u2019s affection? It is true, the freshness\nof my early youth has faded, but was it to such ephemeral advantages\nalone I owed his devotion? Can a marriage be contracted by a man with\nthe intention of dissolving it as soon as the personal attractions, the\nyouthful charms, of his wife have faded? Oh! it seems to me it should be\njust the contrary, and that the hour of affliction should only call forth\ndeeper proofs of affection. No, More, no! neither you nor any other of my\nfriends will be able to accomplish anything for me. I feel that my life\nis rapidly ebbing away; that my spirit is crushed and broken for ever.\nFor admitting, even, that Henry will not be successful in his attempt\nto sever the sacred bonds of our union, what happiness could I ever\nhope to enjoy near one to whom I had become an object of aversion--who\nwould behold in me only an invincible obstacle to his will and the\ngratification of his criminal and disorderly passions?\u201d\n\n\u201cAlas! madam,\u201d replied More, \u201cwe are all grieved at the contemplation of\nthe great affliction by which you are overwhelmed, and how much do we\nwish the expression of our sympathy and devotion had power to relieve\nyou. But remember the Princess of Wales--you will surely never cease to\ndefend her rights.\u201d\n\n\u201cNever, never!\u201d exclaimed the queen passionately. \u201cThat is the sole\ninducement I have once more to arouse myself--it sustains my courage\nand animates my resolution, when health and spirits both fail. O More!\ncould you but know all that passes in the depths of my soul; could\nyou but realize, for one moment, the anguish and agony, the deep\ninterior humiliation, into which I am plunged! Oh! fatal and for ever\nunfortunate day when I left my country and the royal house of my father!\nWhy was I not born in obscurity? Would not my life then have passed\nquietly and without regret? Far from the tumult of the world and the\n\u00e9clat of thrones, I should have been extremely happy. Now I am dying\nbroken-hearted and unknown.\u201d\n\n\u201cIs it really yourself, madam,\u201d answered More, \u201cwho thus gives way to\nsuch weakness? Truly, it is unworthy of your rank, and still more of\nyour virtues. When adversity overtakes us, we should summon all our\ncourage and resolution. You are our queen, and you should remember your\ndaughter is born sovereign of this realm, beneath whose soil our buried\nforefathers sleep. No, no! Heaven will never permit the blood of such\na race to be sullied by that of an ambitious and degraded woman. That\nnoble race will triumph, be assured of it; and in that triumph the honor\nof our country will shine forth with renewed glory and splendor. I\nswear it by my head, and hope it in my heart!\u201d As he said these words,\nfootsteps were heard, and Catherine perceived the king coming towards\nthem. She turned instantly pale, but, remaining calm in the dangerous\ncrisis, made a sign for More to withdraw. The king immediately approached\nher, and, observing with heartless indifference the traces of recent\ntears on her cheek, exclaimed:\n\n\u201cAlways in tears!\u201d Then, assuming a playful manner, he continued: \u201cCome,\nKate, you must confess that you are always singularly sad and depressed,\nand the walls of a convent would suit you much better than this beautiful\ngarden. You have in your hand a fine bouquet; I see at least you still\nlove flowers.\u201d\n\n\u201cI do indeed,\u201d replied the queen, with a deep sigh.\n\n\u201cWell,\u201d said Henry, \u201cI do not mean to reproach you, but it would be\nadvisable not to hold those roses so close to your cheek; the contrast\nmight be unfavorable--is it not so, my old Kate? Have you seen the\nfalcons just sent me from Scotland? They are of a very rare species, and\ntrained to perfection. I am going out now to try them.\u201d\n\n\u201cI wish your majesty a pleasant morning,\u201d answered the queen.\n\n\u201cAdieu, Kate,\u201d he continued, proceeding on his way, and giving in the\nexuberance of his spirits a flourish with his trumpet. Very soon the\nnotes of the hunting-horns announced his arrival in the outer courtyard.\nHe found there assembled a crowd of lords and pages, followed by\nfalconers, carrying the new birds on their wrists. These birds were\nfettered, and wore on their heads little leathern hoods, which were to\nbe removed at the moment they mounted in the air in search of their\naccustomed prey.\n\nIn a very short time the party rode off, and Catherine thoughtfully\nentered the palace, thinking it was a long time since the king had shown\nhimself so indulgent and gracious towards her.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\u201cAre you well assured of the truth of these statements?\u201d said the king,\nreturning Cromwell a letter he had just read. \u201cNo! I will not believe\nit,\u201d he cried, stamping his foot violently on the richly-tessellated\nfloor of his cabinet. \u201cI certainly hoped to have gained the legate over.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut your majesty may no longer indulge in this illusion,\u201d replied\nCromwell, who stood before the king in an attitude the most humble and\nservile possible to assume. \u201cYou are furnished with incontrovertible\nproof; Campeggio, in order to escape your imperious commands, urges the\nPope to evoke the trial to his own tribunal. Of this there is no doubt,\nfor this copy of his letter I received from the hand of his confidential\nsecretary.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are very adroit, sir,\u201d replied the king, haughtily. \u201cLater, I will\nconsider the manner of rewarding you. But I declare to you your patron\nis on the brink of ruin. I shall never pardon him for permitting that\nprotest and appeal of the queen to reach Rome.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat was truly an unfortunate affair,\u201d replied Cromwell; \u201cbut it was\nperhaps not the fault of my lord, Cardinal Wolsey.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhose fault was it then?\u201d demanded Henry in the imperious tone he used\nto disconcert this spy whenever his reports displeased him.\n\n\u201cThe queen has friends,\u201d replied Cromwell, whilst on his thin, colorless\nlips hovered a false and treacherous smile, worthy of the wicked instinct\nthat prompted and directed all his suspicions, and made him foresee the\nsurest plan of injuring those whom he envied or destroying those whose\nreputation he intended to attack.\n\n\u201cAnd who are they?\u201d demanded the king, his ill-humor increasing with the\nreflection. \u201cWhy do you not name them, sir?\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, for instance, Sir Thomas More, whom your Majesty loads with favors\nand distinctions, the Bishop of Rochester, the Duke of Norfolk, and the.\u2026\u201d\n\n\u201cYou will soon accuse my entire court, and each one of my servants in\nparticular,\u201d cried the king; \u201cand in order still more to exasperate and\nastound me, you have taken particular pains to select and name those whom\nI most esteem, and who have always given me the sincerest proofs of their\ndevoted affection. Go!\u201d he suddenly cried in a furious tone; and he fell\ninto one of those wild transports of rage that frequently attacked him\nwhen his will clashed against obstacles which he foresaw he could neither\nsurmount nor destroy. He often passed entire days absorbed in these moods\nof violence, shut up in his own apartments, suffering none to speak to or\napproach him nor on any account to attempt to divert him.\n\nAbashed and alarmed, Cromwell hastily withdrew, stammering the most\nhumble apologies, none of which, however, reached the ear of Henry\nVIII., who, on returning to his chamber, raving in a demoniacal manner,\nexclaimed:\n\n\u201cVile slaves! you shall be taught to know and to respect my power. I will\nmake you sorely repent the hour you have dared to oppose me!\u201d\n\nJust as he had uttered this threatening exclamation, Cardinal Wolsey\nappeared. He could not have chosen a more inauspicious moment. The\ninstant he beheld him, the king, glaring on him with flashing eyes, cried\nout:\n\n\u201cTraitor! what has brought you here? Do you know the ambassadors of\nCharles and Ferdinand, fortified by the queen\u2019s appeal and protest, have\noverthrown all I had accomplished at Rome with so much precaution and\ndifficulty? Why have you not foreseen these contingencies, and known that\nthe Pope would prove inflexible? Why have you not advised me against\nundertaking an almost impossible thing, which will sully the honor of my\nname and obscure for all time the glory of my reign.\u201d\n\n\u201cStop, sire,\u201d replied Wolsey; \u201cI do not deserve these cruel reproaches.\nYou can readily recall how earnestly I endeavored to dissuade you from\nyour purpose, but all my efforts were vain.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is false!\u201d cried the king, giving vent to his rage in the most\nshocking and violent expressions he could command, to inflict upon his\nminister. \u201cAnd now,\u201d he continued, \u201cremember well, if you fail to extort\nfrom your legate such a decision as I require, you shall speedily be\ntaught what it is to deride my commands.\u201d\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe sun had scarcely risen above the horizon when already Cardinal\nCampeggio (whose age and infirmities had not changed the long habits of\nan austere and laborious life) was silently kneeling in the midst of the\nchoir of the palace chapel.\n\nThe velvet cushions of his _prie-dieu_ protected him from the cold marble\nof the sacred pavement, while the rays of the rising sun, descending in\nluminous jets through the arches of the antique windows, fell on the head\nof the venerable old man, giving him the appearance of being surrounded\nby a halo of celestial light. His eyes were cast down, and he seemed to\nbe entirely absorbed in pious and profound meditation.\n\nOther thoughts, however, intruded on his agitated mind, and filled him\nwith anxious apprehension. \u201cThe hour rapidly approaches,\u201d he mentally\nexclaimed--\u201cthe hour when it will be essential to come to a decision. I\nhave still hoped to receive a reply--it has not yet arrived. I alone am\nmade responsible, and doubtless the wrath of the king will burst upon my\nhead. His vengeance will be terrible. More than once already he has taken\noccasion to manifest it. What cruel incertitude! What dreadful suspense!\nYet what shall be done? Speak! O my conscience!\u201d he exclaimed, \u201clet me\nlisten, and be guided by thy voice alone!\u201d\n\n\u201cDespise the power of the king who demands of thee an injustice,\u201d\nimmediately replied that faithful monitor whose stern and inflexible\nvoice will be summoned to testify against us at the last judgment.\n\u201cSayest thou, thou art afraid? Then thou hast forgotten that the last\neven of those gray hairs still remaining to thee cannot fall without the\npermission of him who created the universe. Know that the anger of man\nis but as a vain report--a sound that vanishes in space; and that God\npermits thee not to hesitate for one instant, O judge! when the cause of\nthe feeble and the innocent claims all the strength of thy protection.\u201d\n\nIrrevocably decided, Campeggio continued his prayer, and waited without\nfurther apprehension the decisive moment, so rapidly approaching.\n\nIn the meantime, another cardinal, Wolsey, in great anguish of mind,\ncontemplated with terror the approaching day when he would be compelled\nto decide the fate of the queen. Weary after passing a sleepless night,\nspent in reflecting on the punishment threatening him if the will of the\nking was not accomplished, he had scarcely closed his eyes when a troop\nof valets entered the chamber to assist at his toilet. They brought his\nrichest vestments, with all the insignia of his elevated rank. Wolsey\nregarded them with a feeling of terror. And when they presented him the\nivory rod which the high-chancellor is alone empowered to carry, he\nseized it with convulsive eagerness, grasping it in his hand, as though\nhe feared they would tear it from him; and with that fear the reflection\novershadowed his soul that yesterday he had made a last effort to\nascertain and influence the decision of the legate, without being able to\nsucceed!\n\nFollowed by his pages and gentlemen, and still harassed by these\nmisgivings, he arrived at Blackfriars, where the court awaited him. The\nassembly of cardinals arose deferentially as he entered, though all\nremarked with astonishment the pallor of his countenance and his extreme\nembarrassment of manner, so invariably composed and assured. A portion of\nthis visible restraint was communicated to the assembly, on learning that\nthe king himself had arrived, and was resolved to sit in the adjoining\napartment, where he could see and hear the entire proceedings.\n\nDr. Bell, his advocate, after a long preamble, began a discourse,\nand during its delivery hurried exclamations and hasty comments were\nconstantly indulged in by the excited assembly, so different in their\nhopes, desires, and opinions.\n\n\u201cO Rochester,\u201d cried More, invested with the grand official robes of the\nking\u2019s exchequer, \u201cdo you think this man will succeed with his arguments\nin carrying the crown by storm?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, no,\u201d replied Rochester, \u201cand especially as he wishes to place it\nupon such a head.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut listen, listen!\u201d exclaimed More, \u201che declares the brief of\ndispensation to have been a fraud.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! what notorious bad faith!\u201d murmured the bishop.\n\n\u201cWhat answer can they make to that?\u201d said Viscount Rochford, in another\npart of the hall, addressing the lords belonging to Anne Boleyn\u2019s party.\n\u201cIt is certainly encouraging; we cannot doubt of our success now.\u201d\n\nBut at length the arguments, principally dictated by Henry himself, were\nclosed; his advocate demanding, in the most haughty and authoritative\nmanner, that a decision should at once be rendered, and that it should\nbe as favorable as it was prompt. The king during this time, in a state\nof great excitement, paced to and fro before the entrance of the hall,\nthe door being left open by every one in passing, as if he were afraid\nto close it behind him. He surveyed from time to time, with a glance\nof stern, penetrating scrutiny, the assembly before him, each member\nof which tried to conceal his true sentiments--some because they were\nsecretly attached to the queen, others through fear that the cause of\nAnne Boleyn might ultimately triumph. When the advocate had finished\nhis discourse, each one sat in breathless suspense anxiously waiting\nthe queen\u2019s reply; but not recognizing the authority or legality of the\ntribunal, she had refused to accept counsel, and no one consequently\nappeared to defend her. Profound silence reigned throughout the assembly,\nand all eyes were turned toward Campeggio, who arose and stood ready to\nspeak. The venerable old man, calm and dignified, in a mild but firm and\ndecided tone began:\n\n\u201cYou ask, or rather you demand,\u201d he said, \u201cthat we pronounce a decision\nwhich it would be impossible for us in justice to render.\u201d Here, on\nseeing the king turn abruptly around and confront him, he paused, looking\nsteadily at him. \u201cKnowing that the defendant hath challenged this\ncourt, and refused to recognize in our persons loyal and disinterested\njudges, I have considered it my duty, in order to avoid error, to submit\nevery part of the proceedings of this council to the tribunal of the\nSovereign Pontiff; and we shall be compelled to await his decision before\nrendering judgment or proceeding further. For myself individually, I will\nfurthermore affirm, that I am here to render justice--strict, entire, and\nimpartial justice, and no earthly power can induce me to deviate from\nthe course I have adopted or the resolutions I have taken; and I boldly\ndeclare that I am too old, too feeble, and too ill to desire the favor\nor fear the resentment of any living being.\u201d Here he sat down, visibly\nagitated.\n\nHad a thunderbolt fallen in the midst of the assembly, the tumult and\nastonishment could not have been greater. Anger, joy, fear, hope--all\nhearts were agitated by the most contradictory emotions; while nothing\nwas heard but the deep murmur of voices, the noise of unintelligible\nwords, as they crossed and clashed in an endless diversity of tones.\nThe Duke of Suffolk, brother-in-law of the king, cried out, beating his\nfists violently on the table before him, with the gross impetuosity of an\nupstart soldier, that the old adage had again been verified; \u201cNever did\na cardinal do any good in England.\u201d And with flashing eyes and furious\ngestures he pointed to Cardinal Wolsey. The cardinal at once comprehended\nhis danger, but found it impossible not to resent the insult. He arose,\npale with anger, and with forced calmness replied that the duke, of\nall living men, had the least cause to depreciate cardinals. For,\nnotwithstanding he had himself been a very insignificant cardinal, yet,\nif he had not held the office, the Duke of Suffolk would not this day\nactually carry his head on big shoulders. \u201cAnd you would not now,\u201d he\nadded, \u201cbe here to exhibit the ostentatious disdain you have manifested\ntoward those who have never given you cause of offence. If you were, my\nlord, an ambassador of the king to some foreign power, you would surely\nnot venture to decide important questions without first consulting your\nsovereign. We also are commissioners, and we have no power to pronounce\njudgment, without first consulting those from whom we derive our\nauthority; we can do neither more nor less than our commissions permit.\nCalm yourself, then, my lord, and no more address, in this insulting\nmanner, your best friend. You very well know all I have done for you,\nand you must also acknowledge that on no occasion have I ever referred to\nyour obligations before.\u201d\n\nBut the Duke of Suffolk heard nothing of the last words uttered by\nWolsey. Exasperated beyond measure, he abruptly turned his back on the\ncardinal and went to join the king in the next apartment. He found the\nlatter in the act of retiring, being no longer able to restrain his wrath\nwithin bounds; and as his courtiers entered and stood regarding him with\na look of hesitation he went out, commanding them in a fierce tone and\nwith an imperious gesture to follow him immediately.\n\nMeanwhile, in the council chamber the utmost confusion prevailed. \u201cGod be\npraised!\u201d cried Sir Thomas More, who in the simplicity of his heart and\nthe excess of his joy was incapable of dissimulation or concealment. \u201cGod\nbe praised! Our queen is still queen; and may she ever triumph thus over\nall her enemies!\u201d\n\nEnsconced in the deep embrasure of a window stood Cromwell, a silent\nobserver of the scene; not permitting a word to escape him, but gathering\nup every sentence with keen avidity, and cherishing it in his envious\nand malicious memory. He found himself, nevertheless, in a precarious\nand embarrassing situation. Foreseeing the downfall and disgrace of\nWolsey, he had sought to make friends by betraying his benefactor. But\nthe king treated him with indignant scorn, Viscount Rochford with supreme\ncontempt, and he strongly suspected he had prejudiced his sister, Anne\nBoleyn, also against him.\n\nAnxious and alarmed, he at once determined to begin weaving a new web of\nintrigue, and instantly cast about him to discover what hope remained, or\nwhat results the future might possibly bring forth from the discord and\ndifficulties reigning in the present.\n\nWhen selfish, corrupt creatures like Cromwell find themselves surrounded\nby great and important events, they at once assume to become identified\nwith the dearest interests of the community in which they live, without\nhowever in reality being in the slightest degree affected, unless through\ntheir own interests--seeking always themselves, and themselves alone.\nThus this heartless man, this shameful leprosy of the social body that\nhad nurtured him, regarding the whole world entirely with reference to\nhis own selfish designs, coolly speculated upon his premeditated crimes,\nrevolving in his mind a thousand projects of aggrandizement, which he\nultimately succeeded in bringing to a culpable but thoroughly successful\ntermination.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe night had already come, yet all were in a state of commotion in the\nhousehold of the French ambassador, in consequence of William du Bellay,\nhis brother, having at a late hour received a few hasty lines from the\nbishop, written in the midst of the assembly at Blackfriars, commanding\nhim to hold himself in readiness to depart.\n\nThe young envoy, at once obeying orders, assumed his travelling costume,\nand had scarcely more than attended to the last instructions of his\nbrother when the latter made his appearance.\n\n\u201cWell, brother,\u201d he exclaimed on entering the chamber, \u201call is over.\nAre you ready to set out?\u201d he continued, hurriedly surveying his\nbrother\u2019s travelling attire. \u201cThe king is furiously enraged--first\nagainst the legate, then against Wolsey. But Campeggio has displayed an\nextraordinary degree of firmness and courage. After he had refused to\npronounce the decision, and just as the king was retiring, the expected\ncourier arrived with instructions from Rome. The queen\u2019s protestation\nhas been received, and the Pope, dissolving the council, revokes the\ncommissioners\u2019 authority, and requires the case to be brought before his\nown tribunal. The adherents of Catherine, as you may suppose, are wild\nwith delight--the people throng the streets, shouting \u2018Long live the\nqueen!\u2019 Our gracious king, Francis I., will be in despair.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell,\u201d replied William, \u201cI am satisfied, for I am in favor of the\nqueen. And now, between ourselves, my dear brother, laying all diplomacy\naside--for we are alone, and these walls have no ears--I know as well as\nyou that it matters not to our king whether the wife of Henry VIII. be\nnamed Anne or Catherine.\n\n\u201cAnd yet, after all, it may be the name of this new Helen will become the\nsignal for war,\u201d replied the bishop. \u201cYou forget that in marrying Anne\nBoleyn Henry will be compelled to seek an alliance with France, in order\nto resist the opposition of the Emperor Charles V.; and as for ourselves,\nwe have use for the five thousand crowns he has promised to assist us\nin paying the ransom of the children of France. This family quarrel\ncan be arranged so entirely to our advantage that it would really be a\nmisfortune should it come to a sudden termination. I hope, however, such\nmay not be the result.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are right, brother,\u201d said Du Bellay, laughing. \u201cI see I have too\nmuch heart to make a skilful diplomatist. I have already let myself\nbecome ensnared, you perceive, and drawn over to the cause of this Queen\nCatherine. But it is nevertheless a veritable fact, while families\nare engaged in disputing among themselves, they generally leave their\nneighbors in peace. It would seem, however, the king must have become\na madman or a fool, thus to ignore kindred, allies, fortune, and\nkingdom--all for this Lady Anne.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, much more than a madman,\u201d replied his brother, phlegmatically;\n\u201cafter he has married her, he will be cured of his insanity. But\ncome, now, let us leave Lady Anne and her affairs. You must know that\nimmediately after the adjournment of the cardinals, the king sent for\nme. I found him terribly excited, walking rapidly up and down the great\nhall formerly used as a chapter-room by the monks. Wolsey alone was with\nhim, standing near the abbot\u2019s great arm-chair, and wearing an air of\nconsternation. The instant he saw me approaching, he cried out, \u2018Come,\ncome, my lord, the king wishes to have your advice on the subject we are\nnow discussing.\u2019 And I at once perceived my presence was a great relief\nto him.\n\n\u201cThe king spoke immediately, while his eyes flashed fire. \u2018M. du Bellay,\u2019\nhe exclaimed, \u2018Campeggio shall be punished!--yes, punished! Parliament\nshall bring him to trial! I will never submit to defeat in this matter. I\nwill show the Pope that he has underrated both my will and my power.\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018Sire,\u2019 I answered, \u2018after mature reflection, it seems to me it would be\na mistaken policy in your majesty to resort to such violent measures.\nNothing has yet been decided, and the case is by no means hopeless;\nthe wisest course would therefore be to restrain all manifestation of\ndispleasure toward Campeggio. What advantage could you possibly gain by\ninsulting or ill-treating an old man whom you have invited into your\nkingdom, or how could you then expect to obtain a favorable decision from\nthe Holy See?\u2019\n\n\u201cDelighted to hear me express such opinions, Wolsey eagerly caught at\nmy words, declaring he agreed with me entirely. He also advised that\nthe doctors of the French and German universities should be consulted,\nopinions favorable to the divorce obtained from them, and afterwards this\nhigh authority brought to bear upon the decision of the court of Rome.\n\n\u201c\u2018What do you think of that?\u2019 demanded the king of me. \u2018As for His\nEminence Monseigneur Wolsey,\u2019 he added, in a tone of cruel contempt,\nhis counsels have already led me into so many difficulties, or proved\nso worthless, I shall not trouble him for any further advice.\u2019 And he\nabruptly turned his back on the cardinal.\n\n\u201cA tear rolled slowly down Wolsey\u2019s hollow cheek, but he made no reply. I\nat once assured the king that I thought, on the contrary, the cardinal\u2019s\nadvice was most excellent, and doubted not our king, and his honored\nmother, Madame Louise, might be induced to use their influence in order\nto secure him the suffrages of the University of Paris. Whereupon he\nappeared very much pleased with me, and bowed me out in the most gracious\nmanner imaginable.\n\n\u201cReport all these things faithfully to your master; tell him I fear the\ndownfall of Wolsey is inevitable; he is equally disliked by the queen\u2019s\nadherents and those of Anne Boleyn, and I have every reason for believing\nhe will never again be reinstated in the king\u2019s favor. You will also say\nto him he need not be astonished that I so often send him despatches\nby express, as Cardinal Wolsey informs me confidentially that the Duke\nof Suffolk has his emissaries bribed to open all packages of letters\nsent by post, and that one addressed to me has been miscarried; which\ncircumstance troubles me very much.\u201d\n\n\u201cI will also inform my master,\u201d replied William, \u201cthat the Picardy routes\nare so badly managed, the gentlemen and couriers he sends are constantly\ndetained and kept a considerable time on the journey. I have complained\nrecently to the authorities themselves, who assure me that their salaries\nare not paid, and consequently they are unable to keep the routes in\nbetter condition.\u201d\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe sun descended toward the horizon. Sir Thomas More, seated on a\nterrace of his mansion at Chelsea, sought temporary quiet and repose\nfrom the oppressive burdens of a life every hour of which was devoted to\nthe service of his king and country. His young children formed a joyous\ngroup around him, their flaxen heads crowned with blades of wheat and\nwild flowers they had gathered in the fields, for it was the golden\ntime of harvest. Margaret, assisted by William Roper, directed their\ngames, and was now trying to teach them a Scotch dance, marking the\nwild, fantastical rhythm with the notes of her sweet, melodious voice.\nSir Thomas himself had joined in their play, when suddenly the king\nmade his appearance. He had many times already honored them with such\nvisits since Sir Thomas became a member of the council, having apparently\nconceived a great affection for him, and every day seeming to become more\nand more pleased with his conversation.\n\n\u201cI know not why it is,\u201d he would often say, \u201cbut when I have been for\nany length of time in conversation with More I experience a singular\ntranquillity of soul, and indeed feel almost happy. His presence has the\nmagical effect of lulling my cares to sleep and calming my anxieties.\u201d\n\nOn seeing the king, More immediately advanced with great deference to\nreceive him, while the children at once left off their sports.\n\n\u201cWhy, what is this?\u201d he exclaimed; \u201cI did not come to interrupt your\namusements, but on the contrary to enjoy them with you.\u201d But the\nwild mirth and _abandon_ of the children had fled at the approach of\nroyalty, and, in spite of these kind assurances, they withdrew in rapid\nsuccession, too glad to recover their liberty, and their father was thus\nleft alone with the king.\n\n\u201cWho is the young man I see here?\u201d inquired the sovereign.\n\n\u201cHe is the affianced husband of my daughter, sire; his name is William\nRoper,\u201d answered More.\n\n\u201cWhat! is she affianced already?\u201d said the king.\n\n\u201cYes, sire; the family of Roper has for many years been united to ours\nby the sincerest ties of friendship, and, strengthening these by ties of\nblood, we hope greatly to increase our mutual happiness.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is so,\u201d replied the king. \u201cAnd they will doubtless be happy.\nIn your families you preserve liberty of choice, while we princes,\nborn to thrones, sacrifice our interior happiness to those political\ncombinations demanded by the interests of our subjects.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut,\u201d replied Sir Thomas--who understood at once the king\u2019s intention\nwas to introduce the subject of his divorce, a topic he especially\nwished to avoid--\u201cI believe that happiness depends on ourselves, on our\ndispositions, and the manner in which we conduct our affairs, a great\ndeal more than on circumstances, or the social position in which we\nchance to be born. There are some who, possessing every advantage in\nlife, are still unable to enjoy it. We would suppose them to be perfectly\nhappy, and they really should be so; but true happiness consists alone\nin tranquillity of soul, which is attained by always doing good to\nothers, and suffering with patient submission the trials and afflictions\nwith which life is inevitably beset. Such, it seems to me, is the\ncircumscribed circle in which man is confined; it is well with him so\nlong as he accommodates himself to its legitimate limits, but all is lost\nthe moment he endeavors to venture beyond it.\u201d\n\n\u201cI am every day more entirely convinced that this figure of the circle is\na painful reality,\u201d replied the king, with ill-concealed impatience. \u201cI\nhave always hoped to find happiness in the pursuit of pleasure--in the\ngratification of every desire--and believed it might thus be attained,\nbut never yet have I been able to grasp it.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhich means, your majesty expected to pass through the world without\ntrials--a thing utterly impossible,\u201d added More, smiling.\n\n\u201cIt is that which makes me despair, my dear Thomas. Reflecting on the\nbitter disappointments I have experienced, I am often almost transported\nwith rage. No, More, you can never understand me. You are always equally\ncalm and joyous. Your desires are so happily directed that you can feel\nwell assured of a peaceful, quiet future awaiting you.\u201d\n\n\u201cYour majesty is entirely mistaken,\u201d replied More, \u201cif you believe I\nhave never entertained other desires than those I have been able to\naccomplish. The only secret I possess, in that respect, is, I compel my\ninclinations to obey _me_, instead of making my will subservient to them.\nNevertheless, they oftentimes rebel and contend bitterly for supremacy,\nbut then, it is only necessary to command silence, and not be disturbed\nby their cries and lamentations. Ultimately, they become like refractory\nchildren, who, constantly punished and severely beaten, at last are made\nto tremble at the very thought of the chastisement, and no longer dare to\nrevolt.\u201d\n\n\u201cThis explanation of your system of self-government is very ingenious,\u201d\nreplied the king; \u201cand hearing you speak in this quiet manner one would\nbe induced to believe it were the easiest thing imaginable to accomplish,\nrather than the most difficult. Ah!\u201d he continued with a deep sigh, \u201cI\nunderstand but too well _how_ difficult.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is true,\u201d replied More with earnest simplicity, \u201cand I would not deny\nthat, far from being agreeable, it is often, on the contrary, exceedingly\npainful and difficult for a man to impose these violent restraints\nupon his inclinations. But if he who hesitates on all occasions in the\npractice of virtue to do this necessary violence to himself and remain\nfaithful to the requirements of duty, would reflect but for a single\ninstant, he will find that although at first he may escape suffering and\nprivation by voluntarily abandoning himself to his passions, yet, later,\nhe will inevitably be made to endure a far more bitter humiliation in the\ntorturing reproaches of conscience; the shame he will suffer in the loss\nof self-respect and the respect of others; and, in the inevitable course\nof events, he will at last discover that his passions have carried him\nfar beyond the power of self-control or reformation!\u201d\n\n\u201cLet us banish these reflections, my dear More,\u201d exclaimed the king in a\npetulant tone, passing his hand across his forehead; \u201cthey distress me,\nand I prefer a change of subject.\u201d Saying this he arose, and, putting his\narm around Sir Thomas\u2019 neck, they walked on together toward the extremity\nof the garden, which terminated in an extensive and beautiful terrace, at\nthe foot of which flowed the waters of the Thames.\n\nThe view was an extended one, and the king amused himself watching the\nrapid movements of the little boats, filled with fishermen, rowing in\nevery direction, drawing in the nets, which had been spread to dry on the\nreeds covering the banks of the river. Quantities of water-lilies, blue\nflowers, floating on their large brilliant green leaves, intermingled\nwith the dark bending heads of the reeds, presenting to the distant\nobserver the appearance of a beautiful variegated carpet of flowers.\n\u201cWhat a charming scene!\u201d said the king, gazing at the prospect, and\npointing to a boat just approaching the opposite side of the river to\nland a troop of young villagers, who with their bright steel sickles in\nhand were returning from the harvest fields.\n\n\u201cAnd the graceful spire of your Chelsea belfry, gleaming in the distance\nthrough the light silvery clouds, completes this charming landscape,\u201d he\nadded.\n\n\u201cWould it were possible to transport this view to the end of one of my\ndrives in St. James\u2019 Park,\u201d continued the king.\n\n\u201cWill it be very soon completed?\u201d asked Sir Thomas, at a loss what to say\nto his royal visitor.\n\n\u201cI hope so,\u201d replied Henry languidly, \u201cbut these architects are so\nvery slow. Before going to Grafton, I gave them numerous orders on the\nsubject.\u201d\n\n\u201cYour majesty has been quite pleased with your journey, I believe,\u201d\nreplied Sir Thomas, instantly reflecting what he should say next.\n\n\u201cI should have been extremely well pleased,\u201d he answered, with a sudden\nimpatience of manner, \u201chad Wolsey not persisted so obstinately in\nfollowing me. I have been much too indulgent,\u201d he continued sharply,\n\u201cinfinitely too indulgent towards him, and am now well convinced of the\nmistake I have made in retaining the slightest affection for a man who\nhas so miserably deceived me. What would you think, More,\u201d he continued,\nhis manner suddenly changing, \u201cif I appointed you in his place as lord\nchancellor?\u201d And, turning towards Sir Thomas, he gazed fixedly in his\neyes, as if to read the inmost emotions of his soul.\n\n\u201cWhat would I think?\u201d answered More, calmly--then adding with a careless\nsmile, \u201cI should think your majesty had done a very wrong thing, and made\na very bad choice.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, I believe I could not possibly make a better,\u201d said the king,\nemphasizing the last words. \u201cBut I have not come here to discuss business\nmatters; rather, on the contrary, to get rid of them. Come, then,\nentertain me with something more agreeable.\u201d But the words designedly\n(though with seeming unconcern) uttered by the king cast a sudden gloom\nover the spirit of Sir Thomas he vainly endeavored to dispel.\n\n\u201cSire, your majesty is greatly mistaken in entertaining such an idea,\u201d he\nsaid, stammering and confused; for, with his sincere and truthful nature,\nMore under all circumstances resolutely looked to the end of everything\nin which he suspected the least dissimulation.\n\nThe king whirled round on his heel, pretending not to hear him. \u201cThis\nis a beautiful rose,\u201d he said, stooping down, \u201ca very beautiful\nvariety--come from the seed, no doubt? Are you a gardener? I am very fond\nof flowers. Oh! my garden will be superb.\u201d\n\n\u201cSire,\u201d said More, still pursuing his subject.\n\n\u201cI must have a cutting of that rose--do you hear me, More?\u201d As he ran on\nin this manner, to prevent Sir Thomas from speaking, the silvery notes of\na bell were heard, filling the air with a sweet and prolonged vibrating\nsound.\n\n\u201cWhat bell is that?\u201d asked the king.\n\n\u201cThe bell of our chapel, sire,\u201d replied More, \u201csummoning us to evening\nprayers, which we usually prefer saying all together. But to-day, your\nmajesty having honored us with a visit, there will be no obligation to\nanswer the call.\u201d\n\n\u201cBy all means,\u201d replied Henry. \u201cLet me interfere with nothing. It is\nalmost night: come. We will return, and I will join in your devotions.\u201d\n\nSir Thomas conducted him through the shrubbery towards the chapel, a\nvenerable structure in the Anglo-Saxon style of architecture. A thick\nundergrowth of briers, brambles, and wild shrubbery was matted and\ninterlaced around the foundation of the building; running vines clambered\nover the heavy arches of the antique windows, and fell back in waving\ngarlands upon the climbing branches from which they had sprung. The\nwalls, of rough unhewn stone, were thickly covered with moss and ivy,\ngiving the little structure an appearance of such antiquity that the most\nscrupulous antiquarian would have unhesitatingly referred its foundation\nto the time of King Athelstan or his brother Edmund. The interior was\nadorned with extreme care and taste. A bronze lamp, suspended before\nthe altar, illuminated a statue of the Holy Virgin placed above it. The\nchildren of Sir Thomas, with the servants of his household, were ranged\nin respectful silence behind the arm-chair of his aged father. Margaret\nknelt beside him with her prayer-book, waiting to begin the devotions.\n\nThe touching voice of this young girl as she slowly repeated the sublime\nwords--\u201cOur Father who art in heaven\u201d--those words which men may so\njoyfully pronounce, which teach us the exalted dignity of our being, the\ngrandeur of our origin and destiny--those sublime words penetrated the\nsoul of the king with a profound and singular emotion.\n\n\u201cWhat a happy family!\u201d he exclaimed, mentally. \u201cNothing disturbs their\nharmony; day after day passes without leaving a regret behind it. Why can\nI not join in this sweet prayer--why, O my soul, hast thou banished and\nforgotten it?\u201d He turned from the contemplation of these youthful heads\nbowed before the Mother of God, and a wave of bitter remorse swept once\nagain over his hardened, hypocritical soul.\n\nAfter the king had returned to his royal palace and the evening repast\nwas ended, William Roper approached Sir Thomas and said:\n\n\u201cYou must consider yourself most fortunate, my dear father, in enjoying\nso intimately the favor of his majesty--why, even Cardinal Wolsey cannot\nboast of being honored with such a degree of friendship and familiarity.\u201d\n\nWith a sad smile More, taking the young man\u2019s hand, replied:\n\n\u201cKnow, my son, I can never be elated by it. If this head, around which he\npassed his royal arm so affectionately this evening, could in falling pay\nthe price of but one single inch of French territory, he would, without a\nmoment\u2019s hesitation, deliver it up to the executioner.\u201d\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\u201cWhat acknowledgments do I not owe you, madam,\u201d said Sir Thomas Cheney to\nLady Anne Boleyn, \u201cfor the services you have rendered me. But dare I hope\nfor a full pardon from the king?\u201d\n\n\u201cFeel perfectly secure on that point,\u201d replied Lady Anne. \u201cHe is\nconvinced that Wolsey had you banished from court because of your\ndisagreement with Cardinal Campeggio, and he considers you now one of his\nmost faithful adherents.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd I hope, madam, to have the happiness of proving to you that I am\nnone the less faithfully your servant,\u201d replied Sir Thomas Cheney.\n\n\u201cYou must admit now,\u201d said Lady Anne, addressing her father and brother,\nthe Earl of Wiltshire and the Viscount Rochford, who were both present,\n\u201cthat I succeed in doing what I undertake.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou succeed in what you undertake,\u201d replied her father humorously, \u201cbut\nyou are a long time in deciding what to do. For instance, Cardinal Wolsey\nfinds himself to-day occupying a position in which he has no right to be.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! well, he will not remain in it very long,\u201d replied Anne Boleyn,\npetulantly. \u201cThis morning the king told me the ladies would attend the\nchase to see the new falcons the king of France has sent him by Monsieur\nde Sansac. I will talk to him, and insist on his having nothing more to\ndo with this horrid cardinal, or I shall at once quit the court. But,\u201d\nshe added, pausing suddenly with an expression of extreme embarrassment,\n\u201chow should I answer were he to demand what his eminence Monseigneur\nWolsey had ever done to _me_?\u201d\n\n\u201cHere, sister, here is your answer,\u201d replied Viscount Rochford, taking a\nlarge manuscript book from his father\u2019s portfolio. \u201cTake it and read for\nyourself; you will find here all you would need for a reply.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat great book!\u201d cried Anne, strongly opposed to this new commission,\nand pouting like a spoilt child. Taking the book, she read--skipping a\ngreat deal, however--a minutely detailed statement, formally accusing\nWolsey of having engaged in a secret correspondence with France, and with\nthe most adroit malice misrepresenting every act of his administration as\nwell as of his private life.\n\n\u201cWhat! can all this be true?\u201d cried Anne Boleyn, closing the book.\n\n\u201cCertainly true,\u201d replied Rochford. \u201cAnd furthermore, you should know,\nthe cardinal, in order to reward Campeggio for the good services he has\nrendered _you_, has persuaded the king to send him home loaded with rich\npresents, to conciliate the Pope, he says, by his filial submission and\npious dispositions, and incline him to a favorable decision. That is the\nway he manages,\u201d continued Rochford, shrugging his shoulders, \u201cand keeps\nyou in the most humiliating position ever occupied by a woman.\u201d\n\nHearing her brother speak thus, the beautiful face of Anne Boleyn became\ninstantly suffused with a deep crimson.\n\n\u201cOh! that odious man,\u201d she cried passionately. \u201cI shall no longer submit\nto it. It is to insult me he makes such gracious acknowledgments to that\nold cardinal. I will complain to the king. Oh! how annoying all this is,\nthough,\u201d and she turned the book over and over in her white hands.\n\n\u201cBut see, it is time to start,\u201d she added, pointing to a great clock\nstanding in one corner of the apartment. \u201cGood-by; I must go!\u201d And\nAnne, attired in an elegant riding-habit, abruptly turning to a mirror,\nproceeded to adjust her black velvet riding-cap, when, observing a small\nplume in her hat that was not arranged to her taste, she exclaimed,\nviolently stamping her little foot:\n\n\u201cHow many contradictions shall I meet this day? I cannot endure it! All\nthose horrid affairs to think of, to talk about and explain; all your\nrecommendations to follow in the midst of a delightful hunting party; and\nthen, after all, this hat which so provokes me! No; I can never fix it.\u201d\nAnd she hurried away to find a woman skilled in the arts of the toilet.\nBut after making her sew and rip out again, bend the plume and straighten\nit, place it forward and then back, she did not succeed in fixing it to\nsuit the fancy of Anne Boleyn, who, seeing the time flying rapidly, ended\nby cutting off the plume with the scissors, throwing it angrily on the\nfloor and stamping it, putting the offending cap on her head without a\nplume; then mounting her horse she rode off, accompanied by Sir Thomas\nCheney, who escorted her, knowing she was to join the king on the road.\n\n\u201cHow impulsive and thoughtless your sister is,\u201d said Earl Wiltshire to\nhis son, after Anne had left them, looking gloomily at the plume, still\nlying on the floor where she had thrown it. \u201cShe wants to be queen! Do\nyou understand how much is comprised in that word? Well, she would accept\na crown and fix it on her head with the same eager interest that she\nwould order a new bonnet from her milliner. Yet I firmly believe, before\naccepting it, she would have to be well assured by her mirror that it was\nbecoming to her style of beauty.\u201d\n\n\u201cI cannot comprehend her,\u201d responded Rochford. \u201cHer good sense and\njudgment sometimes astonish me; then suddenly a ball, a dress, a new\nfashion has sufficed to make her forget the most important matter that\nmight be under discussion. I am oftentimes led to wonder whence comes\nthis singular mixture of frivolity and good sense in women. Is it a\npeculiarity of their nature or the result of education?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is entirely the fault of education, my son, and not of their\nweakness. From infancy they are taught to look upon ribbons, laces,\nfrivolities, and fashions as the most precious and desirable things. In\nfact, they attach to these miserable trifles the same value that young\nmen place on a brilliant armor or the success of a glorious action.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt may be so,\u201d replied Rochford, \u201cbut I think they are generally found\nas incompetent for business as incapable of managing affairs of state.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhile very young, perhaps not,\u201d answered Wiltshire; \u201cproud and\nimpulsive, they are neither capable of nor inclined to dissimulation; but\nlater in life they develop a subtle ingenuity and an extreme degree of\npenetration, that enable them to succeed most admirably.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! well, if the truth might be frankly expressed, I greatly fear that\nall this will turn out badly. Should we not succeed in espousing my\nsister to the king, she will be irretrievably compromised; and then you\nwill deeply regret having broken off her marriage with Lord Percy.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou talk like an idiot,\u201d replied the Earl of Wiltshire. \u201cYour sister\nshall reign, or I perish. Why should my house not give a queen to the\nthrone of England? Would it not be far better if our kings should select\nwives from the nobility of their country instead of marrying foreign\nprincesses--strangers alike to the manners and customs as well as to the\ninterests of the people over whom they are destined to reign?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou would probably be right,\u201d replied Viscount Rochford, \u201cif the king\nwere not already married; but the clergy will always oppose this second\nmarriage. They do not dare to express themselves openly because they fear\nthe king, but in the end they will certainly preserve the nation in this\nsentiment. I fear that Anne will yet be very unhappy, and I am truly\nsorry now she cannot be made Countess of Northumberland.\u201d\n\n\u201cHold your tongue, my son,\u201d cried Wiltshire, frantic with rage; \u201cwill you\nrepeat these things to your sister, and renew her imaginary regrets also?\nAs to these churchmen over whom you make so great an ado,\u201d he continued\nwith a menacing gesture, \u201cI hope soon we shall be able to relieve them\nof the fortunes with which they are encumbered, and compel them to\ndisgorge in our favor. You say that women are weak and fickle! If so, you\ncertainly resemble them in both respects--the least difficulty frightens\nyou into changing your opinions, and you hesitate in the midst of an\nundertaking that has been planned with the greatest ability, and which,\nwithout you, I confidently believe I shall be able to accomplish.\u201d\n\nTO BE CONTINUED.\n\n\nIS SHE CATHOLIC?\n\nThe claim put forth by the Episcopal Church--or, to use her full and\nlegal title, The Protestant Episcopal Church of the United Slates\nof America--of being the Holy Catholic Church--Holy, Catholic, and\nApostolic--and the acceptance of her theory by a small portion of the\nChristian world, makes her and her theory, for a little time, worthy our\nattention.\n\nShe is accustomed to use the formula, \u201cI believe in the Holy Catholic\nChurch.\u201d It is but natural to infer that she considers herself to be at\nleast an integral part of that church. We have examined the question, and\nthus present our convictions as to her status.\n\nWe note, in the first place, that her bishops possess no power. They are\nbishops but in name. There is not one of them, no matter how eminent he\nmay be, who can say to a clergyman in his diocese: \u201cHere is an important\nparish vacant; occupy it.\u201d He would be met with the polite remark from\nsome member of the parish, \u201cWe are very much obliged to you, bishop, but\nyou have nothing to say about it. Mr. M. is the warden.\u201d\n\nMr. M., the warden, may be, and in many instances is, a man who cares so\nlittle about the church that he has never yet been baptized, much less is\nhe a communicant. He and his brother vestrymen, whether baptized or not,\nmay, if the bishop claims an authority by virtue of his office, meet him\nat the church door, and tell him he cannot come in unless he will pledge\nhimself to do as they wish; and the bishop may write a note of protest,\nand leave it behind him for them to tear up, as was done in Chicago with\nBishop Whitehouse. Some local regulations have occasionally varied the\nabove, but in the majority of parishes the authority is vested as we have\nstated.\n\nThe bishop\u2019s power of appointing extends to none but feeble missionary\nstations; and even these put on, at their earliest convenience, the airs\nof full-grown parishes.\n\nWe note an instance where a bishop wrote to a lady in a remote missionary\nstation, and asked regarding some funds which had been placed in her\nhands by parties interested in the growth of the church in that place.\nIt had been specified that the money was to be used for whatever purpose\nwas deemed most necessary. The bishop requested that the money be paid to\nthe missionary toward his salary. The lady declined on the ground that\nshe did not like the missionary. Another request in courteous language,\nas was befitting a bishop. He also stated his intention of visiting the\nplace shortly in his official character.\n\nThe lady\u2019s reply equalled his own in courteous phraseology; but the\nmoney was refused and the bishop informed that he \u201cneed not trouble\nhimself about making a visitation, as there was no class to be confirmed;\nbesides, the church had been closed for repairs, and would not be open\nfor some months, at least not until a new minister was settled.\u201d\n\nTo the bishop\u2019s positive knowledge, no repairs were needed; but he deemed\nit wise to stay away, and no further steps were taken.\n\nWith the clergy in his diocese the case is not very different.\n\nIf a presbyter of any diocese chooses for any reason to go from one\nparish to another for the purpose of taking up a permanent abode, he can\ndo so with or without consulting his bishop. In fact, the bishop has\nnothing to do with it. Should the presbyter desire to remove to another\ndiocese, it is requisite that he obtain letters dimissory from the\nbishop, and the bishop is obliged to give them. So also is the bishop in\nthe diocese to which he goes obliged to receive them, unless they contain\ngrave criminal charges.\n\nThere is, in reality, but one thing the bishop of the Protestant\nEpiscopal Church can do, and that is make an appointment once in three\nyears to confirm. So insignificant is his power in any other direction\nthat certain persons, ill-natured or otherwise, have fastened upon him,\nwhether deserved or undeserved, the name of \u201cconfirming machine.\u201d Certain\nit is that, were the power of confirming in any degree vested in the\n\u201cpriests\u201d of the church, the office of bishop might easily be dispensed\nwith. He would appear only as the ornamental portion of a few occasional\nservices. For he cannot authoritatively visit any parish, vacant or\notherwise, except on a confirmation tour; and should this be too frequent\nin the estimation of the vestry, the doors of the church could be shut\nagainst him on any plea the vestry should choose to advance.\n\n2. He cannot increase the number of his clergy, except as parishes choose.\n\n3. He cannot prevent a man fixing himself in the diocese if a\ncongregation choose to \u201ccall\u201d him, no matter how worthy or unworthy the\nman may be.\n\n4. He cannot call a clergyman into his diocese, though every parish were\nempty.\n\n5. He cannot officiate in any church without invitation.\n\n6. He has no church of his own, except as he officiates as rector; and\nunless invited to some place, he is forced, although a bishop, to sit in\nthe congregation as a layman, if he do not stay at home.\n\nAnd, lastly, he cannot on any account visit a parish unless the vestry of\nthat parish is willing.\n\nWe sum up: That so far as the bishops of the Protestant Episcopal\nChurch of the United States of America are concerned, they are simply\nfigure-heads, ornaments possessing the minimum of authority--in point of\nfact, no authority at all.\n\nTheir own convention addresses are a virtual confession of the condition\nof affairs as above laid down. To every one who has ever heard an\nEpiscopal bishop\u2019s address, as delivered before the annual convention\nof clergymen and laymen, the following sample will not appear as in the\nleast overdrawn:\n\nJuly 10.--Visited the parish of S. John, Oakdale, and confirmed three.\n\nJuly 17.--Visited the parish of Longwood, and preached and confirmed one.\n\nJuly 24.--Visited S. Paul\u2019s, and preached and confirmed two in the\nforenoon. Preached also in the afternoon.\n\nThis is a very large and thriving parish.\n\nJuly 26.--At Montrose I visited and confirmed one at the evening service.\n\nJuly 29.--Took a private conveyance to Hillstown, and preached in the\nevening; confirmed one. The rector of this parish is very energetic.\n\nAug. 2.--Attended the burial of a dear friend.\n\nAug. 7.--Attended the consecration of S. Mark\u2019s Church in Hyde Park. It\nis hoped that the difficulties in this parish are settled. The Rev. John\nWaters has resigned and gone to Omaha. Mr. William Steuben is the senior\nwarden. May the Lord prosper him and his estimable lady!\n\n[To continue the list would cause a tear, and we do not wish to weep.]\n\nThe address each year of a Protestant Episcopal bishop is thoroughly\nexemplified in the foregoing specimen. It is the same endless list of\n_enteuthen exelauneis_, varied only by the number of _parasangas_. To the\nlazy grammar-boy it is a most fascinating chapter of ancient history when\nhe reaches the _enteuthen_ section in the _Anabasis_. There is an immense\nlist of them, and the lesson for that day is easy. When the first phrase\nis mastered, he knows all the rest, except the occasional figures.\n\nWe once saw a reporter for a prominent Daily making a short-hand report\nof an address before an illustrious diocesan gathering. Having had\nsome experience in the matter, he came to the meeting with his tablets\nprepared. They were as follows:\n\n    VISITED AT         AND CONFIRMED.\n\n    _______________    _____  _________\n\n    _______________    _____  _________\n\n    _______________    _____  _________\n\nThree-quarters of the address was thus prepared beforehand, it only\nbeing necessary to leave the lines sufficiently far apart to permit the\ninsertion of occasional notes.\n\nBy his extra care he was enabled to present the most complete report of\nany paper in the city.\n\nThe specimen we have given is a fair average. In future generations, when\na classical student is given a bishop\u2019s address to read, his labor for\nthat day will be easy.\n\nAlmost any bishop\u2019s address will substantiate the statements we have\nmade. We refer to them freely, without wasting time in selection.\n\nWe begin a new paragraph: The system of the Protestant Episcopal Church\nis eminently congregational.\n\nIf a parish chooses to \u201ccall\u201d a given man, he is \u201ccalled.\u201d\n\nShould the bishop \u201cinterfere\u201d and recommend him, the recommendation,\nwithout an exception that has ever come to our knowledge, militates\nagainst the proposed \u201ccall.\u201d\n\nShould a parish desire to get rid of a pastor, it does so with or\nwithout the consent of the bishop, as happens, in the estimation of the\nwardens, to be most convenient. The officers may consult the bishop,\nand, if he agree with them, well and good. The words of the diocesan are\nquoted from Dan to Beersheba, and the pastor is made to feel the lack of\nsympathy--\u201cEven his bishop is against him,\u201d is whispered by young and old.\n\nIf the bishop does not agree with them, they do not consult him again.\nThey proceed to accomplish what they desire as if he had no existence,\nand--they always succeed.\n\nThere is a farcical canon of the Protestant Episcopal Church which says,\nif a parish dismiss its rector without concurrence, it shall not be\nadmitted into convention until it has apologized.\n\nIt is a very easy thing for the wardens and vestrymen to address the\nconvention, after they have accomplished their ends, with \u201cYour honorable\nbody thinks we have done wrong, and--we are sorry for it,\u201d or something\nelse equally ambiguous and absurd. The officers of the parish and the\nlaymen of the congregation have done what they wished, and are content.\nAs the convention is composed principally of laymen, the sympathy is\nnaturally with the laymen\u2019s side of the question. The rector is hurriedly\npassed over, his clerical brethren looking helplessly on.\n\nTo get a new parish the dismissed rector must \u201ccandidate\u201d--a feature of\nclerical life most revolting to any man with a spark of manhood in him.\n\nWe note, in the next place, an utter want of unity in the Protestant\nEpiscopal Church.\n\nThere are High-Church and Low-Church bookstores, where the publications\nof the one are discarded by the other. There are High-Church and\nLow-Church seminaries, where a man, to graduate from the one, will be\nlooked upon inimically, at least with suspicion, by the other. There\nis a High-Church \u201cSociety for the Increase of the Ministry,\u201d where the\nprincipal thing accomplished is the maintenance of the secretary of the\nsaid society in a large brick house in a fashionable city, while he\nclaims to support a few students on two meals a day; and a Low-Church\nEvangelical Society, where they require the beneficiary to subscribe to\ncertain articles of Low-Churchism before they will receive him.\n\nThe one society is thoroughly hostile to the other, and, in point of\nfact, the latter was created in opposition to the former.\n\nThere is but one thing in common between the two, and that is\ncold-shoulderism.\n\nThere are High-Church and Low-Church newspapers, in which the epithets\nused by the one toward the other do not indicate even _respect_.\n\nSome of the \u201cchurch\u2019s\u201d ministers would no more enter a \u201cdenominational\u201d\nplace of worship than they would put their hand in the fire. Others will\nfraternize with everything and everybody, and when Sunday comes will\nclose their eyes--sometimes they roll them upward--and pray publicly:\n\u201cFrom heresy and schism good Lord deliver us.\u201d\n\nIt may be necessary that there should be wranglings and bickerings within\nher fold, in order to constitute her the church militant; but we cannot\nforgive hypocrisy.\n\nWith some of her ministers the grand object of existence seems to be to\nprove \u201cPopery\u201d an emanation from hell. With others the effort is equally\ngreat to prove the Episcopal Church as a \u201cco-ordinate\u201d branch with the\nRoman Church, and entitled to the same consideration as is paid by the\ndevotees of Rome to its hierarchy. In both instances--viz., High Church\nand Low Church--history records failure.\n\nWe notice next the relation which the Protestant Episcopal Church holds\nto the Church of England.\n\nThe English Church evidently regards the Protestant Episcopal Church of\nthe United States of America as a weaker sister, and not to be admitted\nto doubtful disputations. She is courteous toward her, and accepts\nher present of a gold alms-basin from an unrobed representative with\na certain amount of ceremony. She invites her bishops to the Lambeth\nConference, and they pay their own fare across the Atlantic; but they\nconfer about nothing. It is true the Protestant Episcopal Church approved\nthe action of the English Church in condemning Colenso; but this was a\nsafe thing for the English Church to present. It would have been hardly\ncomplimentary to have their guests go home without doing something,\nespecially as they were not to be invited into Westminster Abbey, and\nwere to have nothing to do with the coming Bible revision.\n\nThe bishops of the Protestant Episcopal Church of the United States of\nAmerica were invited to the English conference very much as country\ncousins are invited to tea, and that was all.\n\nBy way of asserting her right to a recognition as an equal with\nthe Church of England, she--the Protestant Episcopal Church of the\nUnited States of America--has established, or rather individuals have\nestablished and the act has received the sanction of the General\nConvention, certain rival congregations in a few foreign cities where\nthe English service was already established. If she be of the same\nCatholic mould as the Church of England, why does she thus in a foreign\ncity attempt to maintain an opposition service? The variations in the\nPrayer-Book are no answer to the question. If the English Church be Holy,\nCatholic, and Apostolic, and the Protestant Episcopal Church be Holy,\nCatholic, and Apostolic, the two are therefore one; for they both claim\nthat there is but one Holy, Catholic, and Apostolic church.\n\nShe is in this case unmistakably uncatholic, or else the English Church\nis. In either case she falls to the ground.\n\nOur attention is directed again to the many laws enacted against her\nbishops as compared with the laws enacted against the other members of\nthe church. If Mosheim were to be restored to the flesh, and were to\nwrite the history of the Episcopal Church, and used as an authority\nthe Digest of Canons, as he has been accustomed in his _Ecclesiastical\nHistory_ to use ecclesiastical documents generally, he would style the\nbishops of the Protestant Episcopal Church a set of criminals of the\ndeepest dye, and the priests and deacons not much better. The laity would\nbe regarded as all that could be desired in lofty integrity and spotless\nmorality. For why? A glance at their vade-mecum of law--the Digest of\nCanons--shows an immense bulk of its space to be devoted \u201cto the trial of\na bishop.\u201d The laity go scot-free.\n\nWe question the propriety, as well as the Catholicity, of covering the\nhigher clergy with laws till they are helpless, while the laity revel in\na freedom that amounts, when they choose, to mob-license; but it is done,\nand the Episcopal Church is degraded to a level lower than any of the\ndenominations around her.\n\nWith other bodies who call themselves Christian there is a certain amount\nof consistency. Their rulers are from among their own members. With the\nchurch under consideration, her rulers, in many cases, are any unbaptized\nheathen who may choose to work themselves into a temporary favor with the\npew-holders. It is not necessary that they should even have ever attended\nchurch. We note an instance where the chief man of a small parish was a\ndruggist, and kept in the rear of his drug-store a low drinking-room;\nand this man was elected treasurer year after year by a handful of\ninterested parties, and, when elected, he managed all the finances of the\nparish according to his own notions of propriety. It was his habit to go\nto the church near the close of the sermon, and go away immediately after\nthe collection.\n\nWe note another instance where a warden visited the rector of his parish,\nand threatened, with a polite oath, to give him something hotter than\na section of the day of judgment if he did not ask his (the warden\u2019s)\nadvice a little more on parish matters. The parish grew so warm that at\nthe end of three weeks the rector was candidating for another.\n\nWe note another instance where a warden was so overjoyed at having\nsettled a rector according to his own liking that, on the arrival of the\nnew incumbent, he not only did not go to hear him preach, but stayed at\nhome with certain friends, and enjoyed, to use his own expression, a\n\u201cdooced big drunk.\u201d Out of consideration for the feelings of his family\nwe use the word \u201cdooced\u201d instead of his stronger expression.\n\nThe rector of this happily-ruled parish was imprudent enough to incur\nthe displeasure of his warden after a few months of arduous labor. He\nreceived a note while sitting at the bedside of his sick wife, saying\nthat after the following Sunday his services would be dispensed with;\nthat if he attempted to stay, the church would be closed for repairs.\n\nWe are well acquainted with a parish where a congregation wished to\ndisplace both the senior and junior wardens. These two gentlemen had\nbeen shrewd enough to foresee the event. They succeeded, by calculating\nmanagement, in having vested in themselves the right of selling pews.\nWhen Easter Monday came, they sold for a dollar a pew to loafers on the\nstreets, and swarmed the election with men who never had entered the\nplace before. The laws of the parish were such that there was no redress.\nAs a matter of course, the rector was soon candidating.\n\nDuring the earliest portion of the official life of one of the oldest and\nmost eminent bishops, he was called on to officiate at the institution of\na Low-Church rector. At the morning service the bishop took occasion to\ncongratulate the congregation on the assumed fact that they had now \u201can\naltar, a priest, and a sacrifice,\u201d and went on to enlarge on that idea.\nIn the evening of the same day the instituted minister, in addressing\nthe congregation, said: \u201cMy brethren, so help me God! if the doctrines\nyou heard this morning are the doctrines of the Protestant Episcopal\nChurch, then I am no Protestant Episcopalian; but they are not such\u201d--and\nessayed substantiating the assertion. All that came of the affair was the\npublication, on the part of each, of their respective discourses. On the\nsupposition of the bishop\u2019s having any foundation for his ecclesiastical\ncharacter and for the doctrines he taught, would that have been the end\nof the matter?\n\nCan it be that the Episcopal Church is Catholic? Is it possible that she\nis part of the grand structure portrayed by prophets and sung in the\nmatchless words of inspiration as that against which the gates of hell\nshall not prevail? Rather, we are forced to class her as a \u201csister\u201d among\nthe very \u201cheretics\u201d from whom in her litany she prays, \u201cGood Lord deliver\nus.\u201d\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 X.\n\nALARMING SYMPTOMS.\n\nNovember had come, and was gathering up the last tints and blossoms\nof autumn. One by one the garden lights were being put out; the tall\narchangel lilies drooped their snow and gold cups languidly; the jasmine,\nthat only the other day twinkled its silver stars amidst the purple bells\nof the clematis, now trailed wearily down the trellis of the porch; the\nhardy geraniums made a stand for it yet, but their petals dropped off at\nevery puff of wind, and powdered the gravel with a scarlet ring round\ntheir six big red pots that flanked the walk from the gate to the cottage\ndoor; the red roses held out like a forlorn hope, defying the approach of\nthe conqueror, and staying to say a last good-by to sweet Mother Summer,\nere she passed away.\n\nIt was too chilly to sit out of doors late of afternoons now, and night\nfell quickly. M. de la Bourbonais had collapsed into his brown den; but\nthe window stood open, and let the faint incense of the garden steal in\nto him, as he bent over his desk with his shaded lamp beside him.\n\nFranceline had found it cold, and had slipt away, without saying why,\nto her own room upstairs. She was sitting on the floor with her hands\nin her lap, and her head pressed against the latticed window, watching\nthe scarlet geraniums as they shivered in the evening breeze and dropped\ninto their moist autumn tomb. A large crystal moon was rising above the\nwoods beyond the river, and a few stars were coming out. She counted\nthem, and listened to the wood-pigeon cooing in the park, and to the\nsolitary note of an owl that answered from some distant grove. But the\nvoices of wood and field were not to her now what they once had been.\nThere was something in her that responded to them still, but not in the\nold way; she had drifted somewhere beyond their reach; she was hearkening\nfor other voices, since one had touched her with a power these had never\npossessed, and whose echoing sweetness had converted the sounds that had\ntill then been her only music into a blank and aching silence. Other\npulses had been stirred, other chords struck within her, so strong and\ndeep, and unlike the old childish ones, that these had become to her what\nthe memory of the joys of childhood are to the full-grown man--a sweet\nshadow that lingers when the substance has fled; part of a life that has\nbeen lived, that can never be quickened again, but is enshrined in memory.\n\nShe was very pale, almost like a shadow herself, as she sat there in the\nsilver gloom. Mothers who met her in her walks about the neighborhood\nlooked wistfully after the gentle young face, and said with a sigh:\n\u201cWhat a pity! And so young too!\u201d Yet Franceline was not ill; not even\nailing; she never complained even of fatigue, and when her father\ntapped the pale cheek and asked how his _Clair-de-lune_ was, she would\nanswer brightly that she had never been better in her life, and as she\nhad no cough, he believed her. A cough was Raymond\u2019s single diagnosis of\ndisease and death; he had a vague but deep-seated belief that nobody,\nno young person certainly, ever died a natural death without this fatal\npremonitory symptom. And yet he could not help following Franceline with\nan anxious eye as he saw her walking listlessly about the garden, or\nsitting with a book in her hand that she let drop every now and then to\nlook dreamily out of the window, and only resumed with an evident effort.\nSometimes she would go and lean her arms on the rail at the end of the\ngarden, and stand there for an hour together gazing at the familiar\nlandscape as if she were discovering some new feature in it, or straining\nher eyes to see some distant object. He could not lay his finger on any\nparticular symptom that justified anxiety, and still he was anxious; a\nchange of some sort had come over the child; she grew more and more like\nher mother, and it was not until Armengarde was several years older than\nFranceline that the disease which had been germinating in her system from\nchildhood developed itself and proved fatal.\n\nM. de la Bourbonais never alluded to Franceline\u2019s refusal of Sir Ponsonby\nAnwyll, but he had not forgotten it. In his dreamy mind he cogitated on\nthe possibility of the offer being renewed, and her accepting it. As to\nClide de Winton, he had quite ceased to think of him, and never for an\ninstant coupled him in his thoughts with Franceline. It did not strike\nhim as significant that Sir Simon had avoided mentioning the young man\nsince his return. After the conversation that Clide had once been the\nsubject of between them, this reticence was natural enough. The failure\nof his wild, affectionate scheme placed him in a somewhat ridiculous\nposition towards Raymond, and it was no wonder that he shrank from\nalluding to it.\n\nSir Ponsonby had left Rydal immediately after the eventful ride we know\nof. He could not remain in Franceline\u2019s neighborhood without seeing her,\nand he had sense enough to feel that he would injure rather than serve\nhis cause by forcing his society on her after what had passed. This\nis as good as admitting that he did not look upon his cause as lost.\nWhat man in love for the first time would give up after one refusal, if\nhis love was worth the name? Ponsonby was not one of the faint-hearted\ntribe. He combined real modesty as to his own worth and pretensions\nwith unbounded faith in the power of his love and its ultimate success.\nThe infallibility of hope and perseverance was an essential part of his\nlover\u2019s creed. He did not apply the tenet with any special sense of its\nfitness to Franceline in particular. He was no analyzer of character;\nhe did not discriminate nicely between the wants and attributes of one\nwoman and another; he blended them all in a theoretical worship, and\nincluded all womankind in his notions as to how they were individually\nto be wooed and won. He would let them have their own way, allow them\nunlimited pin-money, cover them with trinkets, and gratify all their\nlittle whims. If a girl were ever so beautiful and ever so good, no man\ncould do more for her than this; and any man who was able and willing to\ndo it, ought to be able to win her. Ponsonby took heart, and trusted to\nhis uniform good luck not to miss the prize he had set his heart on. He\nwould rejoin his regiment for the present, and see what a month\u2019s absence\nwould do for him. He had one certain ground of hope: Franceline did not\ndislike him, and, as far as he could learn or guess, she cared for no one\nelse. Sir Simon was his ally, and would keep a sharp lookout for him, and\nkeep the little spark alive--if spark there were--by singing his praises\njudiciously in the ear of the cruel fair one.\n\nShe, meanwhile, went on in her usual quiet routine, tending the sick,\nteaching some little children, and working with her father, who grew\ndaily more enamored of her tender and intelligent co-operation. Lady\nAnwyll called soon after Ponsonby\u2019s departure, and was just as kind and\nunconstrained as if nothing had happened. She did not press Franceline to\ngo and stay at Rydal, but hoped she would ride over there occasionally\nwith Sir Simon to lunch. Her duties as secretary to Raymond made the\nsacrifice of a whole afternoon repugnant to her; but she did go once,\njust to show the old lady that she retained the same kind feeling\ntowards her as before anything had occurred to make a break in their\nintimacy. It was delightful when she came home to find that her father\nhad been utterly at sea without her, mooning about in a helpless way\namongst the notes and papers that under her management had passed from\nconfusion and chaos into order and sequence. While everything was in\nconfusion he could find his way through the maze, but he had no key to\nthis new order of things. Franceline declared she must never leave\nhim so long again; he had put everything topsy-turvy, he was not to be\ntrusted. The discovery of his dependence on her in a sphere where she\nhad till lately been as useless to him as Ang\u00e9lique or Miss Merrywig\nwas a source of infinite enjoyment to her, and she threw herself into\nher daily task with an energy that lightened the labor immensely to her\nfather, without, as far as Franceline could say, fatiguing herself. But\nfatigue for being unconscious is sometimes none the less real. It may be\nthat this sustained application was straining a system already severely\ntried by mental pressure. She was one day writing away as usual, while\nRaymond, with a bookful of notes in his hand, stood on the hearth-rug\ndictating. Suddenly she was seized with a fit of coughing, and, putting\nher handkerchief quickly to her mouth, she drew it away stained with\ncrimson. She stifled a cry of terror that rose to her lips, and hurried\nout of the room. Her father had seen nothing, but her abrupt departure\nstartled him; he hastened after her, and found her in the kitchen holding\nthe handkerchief up to Ang\u00e9lique, who was looking at the fatal stain with\na face rather stupefied than terrified.\n\n\u201cMy God, have pity upon me! My child! My child!\u201d he cried, clasping\nhis hands and abandoning himself to his distress with the impassioned\ndemonstrativeness of a Frenchman.\n\nWoman, it is said truly, is more courageous at bearing physical pain\nthan man; it is true also that she has more self-command in controlling\nthe expression of mental pain. Her instinct is surer too in guiding\nher how to save others from suffering; let her be ever so untutored,\nshe will prove herself shrewder than the cleverest man on occasions\nlike the present. Ang\u00e9lique\u2019s womanly instinct told her at once that it\nwas essential not to frighten Franceline: that the nervous shock would\ninfallibly aggravate the evil, wherever the cause lay, and that the best\nthing to do now was to soothe and allay her fears.\n\n\u201cBless me! what is there to make a row about?\u201d she cried with an angry\nchuckle, crushing the handkerchief in her fingers and darting a look on\nher master which, if eyes could knock down, must have laid him prostrate\non the spot; \u201cthe child has an indigestion and has thrown up a mouthful\nof bread from her stomach. Hein!\u201d\n\n\u201cHow do you know it is from the stomach and not from the lungs?\u201d he\nasked, already reassured by her confidence, and still more by her\nincivility.\n\n\u201cHow do I know? Am I a fool? Would it be that color if it was from the\nlungs? I say it is from the stomach, and it is a good business. But we\nmust not have too much of it. It would weaken the child; we must stop it.\u201d\n\n\u201cI will run for the doctor at once!\u201d exclaimed M. de la Bourbonais, still\ntrembling and excited. \u201cOr stay!--no!--I will fly to the Court and they\nwill despatch a man on horseback!\u201d He was hurrying away when Ang\u00e9lique\nliterally shouted at him:\n\n\u201cWilt thou be quiet with thy doctor and thy man on horseback! I tell thee\nit is from the stomach; I know what I am about. I want neither man nor\nhorse. It is from the stomach! Dost thou take me for a fool at this time\nof my life?\u201d\n\nRaymond stood still like a chidden child while the old servant poured\nthis volley at him. Franceline stared at her aghast. In her angry\nexcitement the grenadier had broken through not only all barriers of\nrank, but all the common rules of civility--she who was such a strict\nobserver of both that they seemed a very part of herself. This ought to\nhave opened their eyes, if nothing else did; but Franceline was only\nbewildered, Raymond was cowed and perplexed.\n\n\u201cIf thou art indeed quite sure,\u201d he said, falling into the familiar \u201cthee\nand thou\u201d by which she addressed him, and which on her deferential lips\nsounded so outrageous and unnatural--\u201cif thou art indeed certain I will\nbe satisfied; but, my good Ang\u00e9lique, would it not be a wise precaution\nto have a medical man?--only just, as thou sayest well, to prevent its\ngoing too far.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, well, if Monsieur le Comte wishes, let it be; let the doctor come;\nfor me, I care not for him; they are an ignorant lot, pulling long faces\nto make long bills; but if it pleases Monsieur le Comte, let him have one\nto see the child.\u201d She nodded her flaps at him, as if to say, \u201cBe off\nthen at once and leave us in peace!\u201d\n\nHe was leaving the room, when, turning round suddenly, he came close\nup to Franceline. \u201cDost thou feel a pain, my child?\u201d he said, peering\nanxiously into her face.\n\n\u201cNo, father, not the least pain. I am sure Ang\u00e9lique is right; I feel\nnothing here,\u201d putting her hand to her chest.\n\n\u201cGod is good! God is good!\u201d muttered the father half audibly, and,\nstroking her cheek gently, he went.\n\n\u201cLet not Monsieur le Comte go rushing off himself; let him send one of\nthose thirty-six lackeys at the Court!\u201d cried Ang\u00e9lique, calling after\nhim through the kitchen window.\n\nIn her heart and soul Ang\u00e9lique was terrified. She had thrown out quite\nat random, with the instinct of desperation, that confident assurance as\nto the color of the stain. Her first impulse was to save Franceline from\nthe shock, but it had fallen full upon herself. This accident sounded\nlike the first stroke of the death-knell. No one would have supposed it\nto look at her. She set her arms akimbo and laughed till she shook at her\nown impudence to M. le Comte, and how meekly M. le Comte had borne it,\nand how scared his face was, and what a joke the business was altogether.\nTo see him stand there wringing his hands, and making such a wailing\nabout nothing! But when Franceline was going to answer and reproach her\nold _bonne_ with this inopportune mirth, she laid her hand on the young\ngirl\u2019s mouth and bade her peremptorily be silent.\n\n\u201cIf you go talking and scolding, child, there is no knowing what mischief\nyou may do. Come and lie down, and keep perfectly quiet.\u201d\n\nFranceline obeyed willingly enough. She was weak and tired, and glad to\nbe alone awhile.\n\nAng\u00e9lique placed a cold, wet cloth on her chest, and made her some cold\nlemonade to drink. It was making a fuss about nothing, to be sure; but\nit would please M. le Comte. He was never happier than when people were\nmaking a fuss over his _Clair-de-lune_.\n\nIt was not long before the count returned, accompanied by Sir Simon.\nAng\u00e9lique saw at a glance that the baronet understood how things were. He\ntalked very big about his confidence that Ang\u00e9lique was right; that it\nwas an accident of no serious import whatever; but he exchanged a furtive\nglance with the old woman that sufficiently belied all this confident\ntalk. He was for going up to see Franceline with M. de la Bourbonais,\nbut Ang\u00e9lique would not allow this. M. le Comte might go, if he liked,\nprovided he did not make her speak; but nobody else must go; the room\nwas too small, and it would excite the child to see people about her. So\nRaymond went up alone. As soon as his back was turned, Ang\u00e9lique threw up\nher hands with a gesture too significant for any words. Sir Simon closed\nthe door gently.\n\n\u201cI am not duped any more than you,\u201d he said. \u201cIt is sure to be very\nserious, even if it is not fatal. Tell me what you really think.\u201d\n\n\u201cI saw her mother go through it all. It began like this. Only Madame\nla Comtesse had a cough; the petite has never had one. That is the\nonly thing that gives me a bit of hope; the petite has never coughed.\nO Monsieur Simon! it is terrible. It will kill us all three; I know it\nwill.\u201d\n\n\u201cTut, tut! don\u2019t give up in this way, Ang\u00e9lique,\u201d said the baronet\nkindly, and turning aside; \u201cthat will mend nothing; it is the very worst\nthing you could do. I agree with you that it is very serious; not so\nmuch the accident itself, perhaps--we know nothing about that yet--but\non account of the hereditary taint in the constitution. However, there\nhas been no cough undermining it so far, and with care--I promise you she\nshall have the best--there is every reason to hope the child will weather\nit. At her age one weathers everything,\u201d he added, cheerfully. \u201cCome\nnow, don\u2019t despond; a great deal depends on your keeping a cheerful\ncountenance.\u201d\n\n\u201cI know it, monsieur, and I will do my best. But I hear steps! Could it\nbe the doctor already? For goodness\u2019 sake run out and meet him, and tell\nhim, as he hopes to save us all, not to let Monsieur le Comte know there\nis any danger! It is all up with us if he does. Monsieur le Comte could\nno more hide it than a baby could hide a pin in its clothes.\u201d\n\nShe opened the door and almost pushed Sir Simon out, in her terror lest\nthe doctor should walk in without being warned.\n\nSir Simon met him at the back of the cottage. A few words were exchanged,\nand they came in together. Raymond met them on the stairs. The medical\nman preferred seeing his patient alone; the nurse might be present, but\nhe could have no one else. In a very few minutes he came down, and a\nglance at his face set the father\u2019s heart almost completely at rest.\n\n\u201cDear me, Sir Simon, you would never do for a sick nurse. You prepared me\nfor a very dangerous case by your message; it is a mere trifle; hardly\nworth the hard ride I\u2019ve had to perform in twenty minutes.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen there is nothing amiss with the lungs?\u201d\n\n\u201cWould you like to sound them yourself, count? Pray do! It will be\nmore satisfactory to you.\u201d And he handed his stethoscope to M. de la\nBourbonais--not mockingly, but quite gravely and kindly.\n\nThat provincial doctor missed his vocation. He ought to have been a\ndiplomatist.\n\nInstead of the proffered stethoscope, M. de la Bourbonais grasped his\nhand. His heart was too full for speech. The reaction of security\nafter the brief interval of agony and suspense unnerved him. He sat\ndown without speaking, and wiped the great drops from his forehead. The\nmedical man addressed himself to Sir Simon and Ang\u00e9lique. There was\nnothing whatever to be alarmed at; but there was occasion for care and\ncertain preventive measures. The young lady must have perfect rest and\nquiet; there must be no talking for some time; no excitement of any sort.\nHe gave sundry directions about diet, etc., and wrote a prescription\nwhich was to be sent to the chemist at once. M. de la Bourbonais\naccompanied him to the door with a lightened heart, and bade him _au\nrevoir_ with a warm pressure of the hand.\n\n\u201cNow, let me hear the truth,\u201d said Sir Simon, as soon as they entered the\npark.\n\n\u201cYou have heard the truth--though only in a negative form. If you\nnoticed, we did not commit ourselves to any opinion of the case; we only\nprescribed for it. This was the only way in which we could honestly\nfollow your instructions,\u201d observed the doctor, who always used the royal\n\u201cwe\u201d of authorship when speaking professionally.\n\n\u201cYou showed great tact and prudence; but there is no need for either now.\nTell me exactly what you think.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt will be more to the purpose to tell you what we know,\u201d rejoined the\nmedical man. \u201cThere is a blood-vessel broken; not a large one, happily,\nand if the hemorrhage does not increase and continue, it may prove of no\nreally serious consequence. But then we must remember the question of\ninheritance. That is what makes a symptom in itself trifling assume a\ngrave--we refrain from saying fatal--character.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are convinced that this is but the beginning of the end--am I to\nunderstand that?\u201d asked Sir Simon. He was used to the doctor\u2019s pompous\nway, and knew him to be both clever and conscientious, at least towards\nhis patients.\n\n\u201cIt would be precipitating an opinion to say so much. We are on the\nwhole inclined to take a more sanguine view. We consider the hitherto\nunimpaired health of the patient, and her extreme youth, fair grounds for\nhope. But great care must be taken; all excitement must be avoided.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou may count on your orders being strictly carried out,\u201d said Sir Simon.\n\nThey walked on a few yards without further speech. Sir Simon was busy\nwith anxious and affectionate thoughts.\n\n\u201cI should fancy a warm climate would be the best cure for a case of this\nkind,\u201d he observed, answering his own reflections, rather than speaking\nto his companion.\n\n\u201cNo doubt, no doubt,\u201d assented Dr. Blink, \u201cif the patient was in a\nposition to authorize her medical attendant in ordering such a measure.\u201d\n\n\u201cMonsieur de la Bourbonais is in that position,\u201d replied Sir Simon,\nquietly.\n\n\u201cAh! I am glad to know it. I may act on the information one of these\ndays. The young lady could not bear the fatigue of a journey to the south\njust now; the general health is a good deal below par; the nervous system\nwants toning; it is unstrung.\u201d\n\nSir Simon made no comment--not at least in words--but it set his mind\non painful conjecture. Perhaps the electric chain passed from him to\nhis companion, for the latter said irrelevantly but with a significant\nexpression, as he turned his glance full upon Sir Simon:\n\n\u201cWe medical men are trusted with many secrets--secrets of the heart as\nwell as of the body. We ask you frankly, as a friend of our patient, is\nthere any moral cause at work--any disappointed affection that may have\npreyed on the mind and fostered the inherited germs of disease?\u201d\n\n\u201cI cannot answer that question,\u201d replied the baronet after a moment\u2019s\nhesitation.\n\n\u201cYou cannot, or you will not? Excuse my pertinacity; it is professional\nand necessary.\u201d\n\nSir Simon hesitated again before he answered.\n\n\u201cI cannot even give a decided answer to that. I had some time ago feared\nthere existed something of the sort, but of late those apprehensions had\nentirely disappeared. If you had put the question to me yesterday, I\nshould have said emphatically there is nothing to fear on that score; the\nchild is perfectly happy and quite heart-whole.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd to-day you are not prepared to say as much,\u201d persisted Dr. Blink.\n\u201cSomething has occurred to modify this change of opinion?\u201d\n\n\u201cNothing, except the accident that you know of and your question now.\nThese suggest to me that I may have been right in the first instance.\u201d\n\n\u201cIs it in your power or within the power of circumstances to set the\nwrong right--to remove the cause of anxiety--assuming that it actually\nexists?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, it is not; nothing can remove it.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd she is aware of this?\u201d\n\n\u201cI fear not.\u201d\n\n\u201cSay rather that you hope not. In such cases hope is the best physician;\nlet nothing be done, as far as you can prevent it, to destroy this hope\nin the patient\u2019s mind; I would even venture to urge that you should do\nanything in your power to feed and stimulate it.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is impossible; quite impossible,\u201d said Sir Simon emphatically. The\ndoctor\u2019s words fell on him like a sting, and this very feeling increased\nto conviction what had, at the beginning of the conversation, been only a\nvague misgiving.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nFranceline rallied quickly, and with her returning strength Sir Simon\u2019s\nfears were allayed. He had not been able to follow the doctor\u2019s advice\nas to keeping alive any soothing delusions that might exist in her mind,\nbut he succeeded, by dint of continually dinning it into his ears that\nthere was no danger, in convincing her father that there was not; and the\ncheerfulness and security that radiated from him acted beneficially on\nher, and proved of great help to the medical treatment. And was Dr. Blink\nright in his surmise that a moral cause had been at work and contributed\nto the bursting of the blood-vessel? If Franceline had been asked she\nwould have denied it; if any one had said to her that the accident had\nbeen brought on by mental suffering, or insinuated that she was still\nat heart pining for a lost love, she would have answered with proud\nsincerity: \u201cIt is false; I am not pining. I have ceased to think of Clide\nde Winton; I have ceased to love him.\u201d\n\nBut which of us can answer truly for our own hearts? We do not want to\nidealize Franceline. We wish to describe her as she was, the good with\nthe evil; the struggle and the victory as they alternated in her life;\nher heart fluctuating, but never consciously disloyal. There must be\nflaws in every picture taken from life. Perfection is not to be found in\nnature, except when seen through a poet\u2019s eyes. Perhaps it was true that\nFranceline had ceased to love Clide. When our will is firmly set upon\nself-conquest we are apt to fancy it achieved. But conquest does not of\nnecessity bring joy, or even peace. Nothing is so terrible as a victory,\nexcept a defeat, was a great captain\u2019s cry on surveying the bloody field\nof yesterday\u2019s battle. The frantic effort, the bleeding trophies may\ninflict a death-wound on the conqueror as fatal, in one sense, as defeat.\nWe see the \u201cgood fight\u201d every day leading to such issues. Brave souls\nfight and carry the day, and then go to reap their laurels where \u201cbeyond\nthese voices there is peace.\u201d Franceline had gained a victory, but there\nwas no rejoicing in the triumph. Her heart plained still of its wounds;\nif she did not hear it, it was because she would not; it still bemoaned\nits hard fate, its broken cup of happiness.\n\nShe rose up from this illness, however, happier than she had been for\nmonths. It was difficult to believe that the period which had worked such\nchanges to her inward life counted only a few months; it seemed like\nyears, like a lifetime, since she had first met Clide de Winton. She\nresumed her calmly busy little life as before the break had come that\nsuspended its active routine. By Dr. Blink\u2019s desire the teaching class\nwas suppressed, and the necessity of guarding against cold prevented her\ndoing much amongst the sick; but this extra leisure in one way enabled\nher to increase her work in another; she devoted it to writing with her\nfather; this never tired her, she affirmed--it only interested and amused\nher.\n\nThe advisability of a trip to some southern spot in France or Italy had\nbeen suggested by Dr. Blink; but the proposal was rejected by his patient\nin such a strenuous and excited manner that he forebore to press it.\nHe noticed also an expression of sudden pain on M. de la Bourbonais\u2019\ncountenance, accompanied by an involuntary deep-drawn sigh, that led him\nto believe there must be pecuniary impediments in the way of the scheme,\nnotwithstanding Sir Simon\u2019s assurance to the contrary. The _\u00e9migr\u00e9_\nwas universally looked upon as a poor man. Who else would live as he\ndid? Still Sir Simon must have known what he was saying. However, as it\nhappened, the cold weather, which was now setting in pretty sharp, was\nby no means favorable to travelling, so the doctor consented willingly\nenough to abide by the patient\u2019s circumstances and wishes. A long journey\nin winter is always a high price for an invalid to pay for the benefit of\na warm climate.\n\nIn the first days of December, Sir Simon took flight from Dullerton to\nNice. Lady Rebecca was spending the winter at Cannes, and as Mr. Simpson\nreported that \u201cher ladyship\u2019s health had declined visibly within the\nlast month,\u201d it was natural that her dutiful step-son should desire to\nbe within call in case of any painful eventuality. If the climate of the\nsunny Mediterranean town happened to be a very congenial winter residence\nto him, so much the better. It is only fair that a man should have some\ncompensation for doing his duty.\n\nThe day before he started Sir Simon came down to The Lilies.\n\n\u201cRaymond,\u201d he said, \u201cyou have sustained a loss lately; you must be in\nwant of money; now is the time to prove yourself a Christian, and let\nothers do unto you as you would do unto them. You offered me money once\nwhen I did not want it; I offer it to you now that you do.\u201d And he\npressed a bundle of notes into the count\u2019s hands.\n\nBut Raymond crushed them back into his. \u201cMon cher Simon! I do not thank\nyou. That would be ungrateful; it would look as if I were surprised,\nwhereas I have long since come to take brotherly kindness as a matter of\ncourse from you. But in truth I do not want this money; I give you my\nword I don\u2019t!\u201d\n\n\u201cIf you pledge your word, I must believe you, I suppose,\u201d returned the\nbaronet; \u201cbut promise me one thing--if you should want it, you will let\nme know?\u201d\n\n\u201cI promise you I will.\u201d\n\nSir Simon with a sigh, which Raymond took for reluctance, but which was\nreally one of relief, replaced the notes in his waistcoat pocket. \u201cI had\nbetter leave you a blank check all the same,\u201d he said; \u201cyou might happen\nto want it, and not be able to get a letter to me at once. There is no\nknowing where the vagabond spirit may lead me, once I am on the move.\nGive me a pen.\u201d And he seated himself at the desk.\n\nRaymond protested; but it was no use, Sir Simon would have his own way;\nhe wrote the blank check and saw it locked up in the count\u2019s private\ndrawer. M. de la Bourbonais argued from this reckless committal of his\nsignature that the baronet\u2019s finances were in a flourishing condition,\nand was greatly rejoiced. Alas! if the truth were known, they had never\nbeen in a sorrier plight. He had offered the bank-notes in all sincerity,\nbut if Raymond had accepted it, Sir Simon would have been at his wit\u2019s\nend to find the ready money for his journey. But he kept this dark, and\nrather led his friend to suppose him flush of money; it was the only\nchance of getting him to accept his generosity.\n\n\u201cMind you keep me constantly informed how Franceline gets on,\u201d were his\nparting words; and M. de la Bourbonais promised.\n\nShe got on in pretty much the same way for some time. Languid and pale,\nbut not suffering; and she had no cough, and no return of the symptoms\nthat had alarmed them all so much. Ang\u00e9lique watched her as a cat watches\na mouse, but even her practised eye could detect no definite cause for\nanxiety.\n\nOne morning, about a fortnight after Sir Simon\u2019s departure, Franceline\nwas alone in the little sitting-room--her father had gone to do some\nshopping for her in the town, as it was too cold for her to venture\nout--when Sir Ponsonby Anwyll called. The moment she saw him she flushed\nup, partly with surprise, partly with pleasure. A casual observer would\nhave concluded this to be a good sign for the visitor; a male friend\nwould have unhesitatingly pronounced him a lucky dog. Ponsonby himself\nfelt slightly elated.\n\n\u201cI heard you were ill,\u201d he said, \u201cand as I am at home on leave for a\nfew days, I could not resist coming to inquire for you. You are not\ndispleased with me for coming?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, indeed; it is very kind of you. I am glad to see you,\u201d Franceline\nreplied with bright, grateful eyes.\n\nHope bounded up high in Ponsonby.\n\n\u201cThey told me you had been very ill. I hope it is not true. You don\u2019t\nlook it,\u201d he said anxiously.\n\n\u201cI have been frightening them a little more than it was worth; but I am\nquite well now. How is Lady Anwyll?\u201d\n\n\u201cThank you, she\u2019s just as usual; in very good health and a tremendous\nbustle. You know I always put the house topsy-turvy when I come down. Not\nthat I mean to do it; it seems to come of itself as a natural consequence\nof my being there,\u201d he explained, laughing. \u201cIs M. de la Bourbonais quite\nwell?\u201d\n\n\u201cQuite well. He will be in presently; he is only gone to make a few\npurchases for me.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow anxious he must have been while you were ill!\u201d\n\n\u201cDear papa! yes he was.\u201d\n\n\u201cDo you ride much now?\u201d\n\n\u201cNot at all. I am forbidden to take any violent exercise for the present.\u201d\n\nAll obvious subjects being now exhausted, there ensued a pause. Ponsonby\nwas the first to break it.\n\n\u201cHave you forgiven me, Franceline?\u201d he said, looking at her tenderly, and\nwith a sort of sheepish timidity.\n\n\u201cIndeed I have; forgiven and forgotten,\u201d she replied; and then blushing\nvery red, and correcting herself quickly: \u201cI mean there was nothing to\nforgive.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat\u2019s not the sort of forgiveness I want,\u201d said Ponsonby, growing\ncourageous in proportion as she grew embarrassed. \u201cFranceline, why can\nyou not like me a little? I love you so much; no one will ever love you\nbetter, or as well!\u201d\n\nShe shook her head, but said nothing, only rose and went to the window.\nHe followed her.\n\n\u201cYou are angry with me again!\u201d he exclaimed, and was going to break out\nin entreaties to be forgiven; when stooping forward he caught sight of\nher face. It was streaming with tears!\n\n\u201cThere, the very mention of it sets you crying! Why do you hate me so?\u201d\n\n\u201cI do not hate you. I never hated you! I wish with all my heart I could\nlove you! But I cannot, I cannot! And you would not have me marry you if\nI did not love you? It would be false and selfish to accept your love,\nwith all it would bring me, and give so little in return?\u201d She turned her\ndark eyes on him, still full of tears, but unabashed and innocent, as if\nhe had been a brother asking her to do something unreasonable.\n\n\u201cSo little!\u201d he cried, and seizing her hand he pressed it to his lips;\n\u201cif you knew how thankful I would be for that little! What am I but an\nawkward lout at best! But I will make you happy, Franceline; I swear to\nyou I will! And your father too. I will be as good as a son to him.\u201d\n\nShe made no answer but the same negative movement of her head. She looked\nout over the winter fields with a dreamy expression, as if she only half\nheard him, while her hand lay passively in his.\n\n\u201cSay you will be my wife! Accept me, Franceline!\u201d pleaded the young man,\nand he passed his arm around her.\n\nThe action roused her; she snatched away her hand and started from\nhim. It was not aversion or antipathy, it was terror that dictated the\nmovement. Something within her cried out and forbade her to listen. She\ncould no more control the sudden recoil than she could control the tears\nthat gushed out afresh, this time with loud sobs that shook her from head\nto foot.\n\n\u201cGood heavens! what have I done?\u201d exclaimed Ponsonby, helpless and\ndismayed. \u201cShall I go away? shall I leave you?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! it is nothing. It is over now,\u201d said Franceline, her agitation\nquieted instantaneously by the sight of his. She dashed the tears from\nher cheeks impatiently; she was vexed with herself for giving way so\nbefore him. \u201cSit down; you are trembling all over,\u201d said the young man;\nand he gently forced her into a chair. \u201cI am sorry I said anything; I\nwill never mention the subject again without your permission. Shall I go\naway?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt would be very ungracious to say \u2018yes,\u2019\u201d she replied, trying to smile\nthrough the tears that hung like raindrops on her long lashes; \u201cbut you\nsee how weak and foolish I am.\u201d\n\n\u201cMy poor darling! I will go and leave you. I have been too much for you.\nOnly tell me, may I come soon again--just to ask how you are?\u201d\n\nShe hesitated. To say yes would be tacitly to accept him; yet it was\nodious to turn him off like this without a word of kindly explanation to\nsoften the pang. Ponsonby could not read these thoughts, so he construed\nher hesitation according to the immemorial logic of lovers.\n\n\u201cWell, never mind answering now,\u201d he said; \u201cI won\u2019t bother you any more\nto-day. You will present my respects to the count, and say how sorry I\nwas not to see him.\u201d\n\nHe held out his hand for good-by.\n\n\u201cYou will meet him on the road, I dare say,\u201d said Franceline, extending\nhers. \u201cYou will not tell him how I have misbehaved to you?\u201d\n\nThe shy smile that accompanied the request emboldened Ponsonby to raise\nthe soft, white hand to his lips. Then turning away he overturned a\nlittle wicker flower-stand, happily with no injury to the sturdy green\nplant, but with considerable damage to the dignity of his exit.\n\nPerhaps you will say that Mlle. de la Bourbonais behaved like a flirt in\nparting with a discarded lover in this fashion. It is easy for you to say\nso. It is not so easy for a woman with a heart to inflict unmitigated\npain on a man who loves her, and whose love she at least requites with\ngratitude, esteem, and sisterly regard.\n\nSir Ponsonby met the count on the road; he made sure of the encounter by\nwalking his horse up and down the green lane which commanded the road\nfrom Dullerton to The Lilies. What passed between them remained the\nsecret of themselves and the winter thrush that perched on the brown\nhedge close by and sang out lustily to the trees and fields while they\nconversed.\n\nM. de la Bourbonais made no comment on his daughter\u2019s tear-stained cheeks\nwhen he came home; but taking her face between his hands, as he was fond\nof doing, he gave one wistful look, kissed it, and let it go.\n\n\u201cHow long you have been away, petit p\u00e8re! Shall we go to our writing\nnow?\u201d she inquired cheerfully.\n\n\u201cArt thou not tired, my child?\u201d\n\n\u201cTired! What have I done to tire me?\u201d\n\nShe sat down at his desk, and nothing was said of Sir Ponsonby Anwyll\u2019s\nvisit.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe excitement of that day\u2019s interview told, nevertheless, on Franceline.\nIt left her nervous, and weaker than she had been since her recovery.\nThese symptoms escaped her father\u2019s notice, and they would have escaped\nAng\u00e9lique\u2019s, owing to Franceline\u2019s strenuous efforts to conceal them, if\na slight cough had not come to put her on the _qui vive_ more than ever.\nIt was very slight indeed, only attacking her in the morning when she\nawoke, and quite ceasing by the time she was dressed and down-stairs.\nFranceline\u2019s room was at one end of the cottage; Ang\u00e9lique slept next to\nher; and at the other end, with the stairs intervening, was the count\u2019s\nroom. He was thus out of ear-shot of the sound, which, however rare and\nseemingly unimportant, would have filled him with alarm. Franceline\ntreated it as a trifle not worth mentioning; but when her old _bonne_\ninsisted on taking her discreetly to Dr. Blink and having his opinion\nabout it, she gave in to humor her. The doctor once more applied his\nstethoscope, and then, smiling that grim, satisfied smile of his that was\nso reassuring to patients till they had seen it practised on others and\nfound out it was a fallacy, remarked:\n\n\u201cWe are glad to be able to assure you again that there is nothing to\nbe frightened at; no mischief that cannot be forestalled by care, and\ndocility to our instructions,\u201d he added emphatically. \u201cWe must order you\nsome tonics, and you must take them regularly. How is the appetite?\u201d\nturning to Ang\u00e9lique, who stood by devouring the oracle\u2019s words and\nwatching every line of his features with a shrewd, almost vicious\nexpression of mistrust on her brown face.\n\n\u201cAh! the appetite. She will not be eating many; she will be wanting\ndainty plates which I cannot make,\u201d explained the Frenchwoman, sticking\npertinaciously to the future tense, as usual when she spoke English.\n\n\u201cInvalids are liable to those caprices of the palate,\u201d remarked Dr. Blink\nblandly; \u201cbut Miss Franceline will be brave and overcome them. Dainty\ndishes are not always the most nourishing, and nourishment is necessary\nfor her; it is essential.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is what I will be telling mamselle,\u201d assented Ang\u00e9lique; \u201cbut she\nwill not be believing me. I will be telling her every day the strength is\nin the bouillon; but she will be making a grimace and saying \u2018Pshaw!\u2019\u201d\n\nThe last word was uttered with a grimace so expressive that Franceline\nburst out laughing, and the pompous little doctor joined in it in spite\nof his dignity. She promised to do her best to obey him and overcome\nher dislike to the bouillon, Ang\u00e9lique\u2019s native panacea, and to other\nsubstantial food.\n\nBut she found it very hard to keep the promise. It required something\nsavory to tempt her weak appetite. Ang\u00e9lique saw she was doing her\nbest, and never pressed the poor child needlessly; but she would groan\nover the plate as she removed it, sometimes untouched. \u201cI used to think\nmyself a \u2018blue ribbon\u2019 until now,\u201d she said once to Franceline, with an\nimpatient sigh; \u201cbut I am at the end of my talent; I can do nothing to\nplease mamselle.\u201d And then she would long for Sir Simon to come home.\nIt happened unluckily that the professed artist who presided over the\nkitchen at the Court was taking a holiday during his master\u2019s absence.\nAng\u00e9lique would have scorned to invoke the skill of the subaltern who\nreplaced him, but she had a profound admiration for the _chef_ himself,\nand, though an Englishman, she bowed unreservedly to his superior\ntalents. The belief was current that Sir Simon would spend the Christmas\nat Dullerton; he always did when not at too great a distance at that\ntime. It was the right thing for an English gentleman to do, and his\nbitterest foe would not accuse the baronet of failing to act up to that\nstandard.\n\nThis year, however, it was not possible. The weather was glorious at Nice\nand it was anything but that at Dullerton, and the long journey in the\ncold was not attractive. He wrote home desiring the usual festivities\nto be arranged according to the old custom of the place; coals and\nclothing were to be distributed _ad libitum_; the fatted calf was to be\nkilled for the tenantry, and everybody was enjoined to eat, drink, and\nbe merry in spite of the host\u2019s absence. They conscientiously followed\nthese hospitable injunctions, but it was a grievous disappointment that\nSir Simon was not in their midst to stimulate the conviviality by his\nkindly and genial presence. Pretty presents came to The Lilies, but they\ndid not bring strength to Franceline. She grew more transparent, more\nfragile-looking, as the days went on. Ang\u00e9lique held private conferences\nwith Miss Merrywig, and that lady suggested that any of the large houses\nin the neighborhood would be only too delighted to be of any use in\nsending jellies flavored with good strong wine. There was nothing so\nnourishing for an invalid; Miss Merrywig would speak to one where there\nwas a capital cook. But Ang\u00e9lique would not hear of it. No, no! Much as\nshe longed for the jelly she dared not get it in this way. M. le Comte\nwould never forgive her. \u201cHe will be so proud, M. le Comte! He will be a\nScotchman! He will not be confessing even to me that he wants nothing.\nBut Monsieur Simon will be coming; he will be coming soon, and then he\nwill be making little plates for mamselle every day.\u201d Meantime she and\nFranceline did their best to hide from Raymond this particular reason\nfor desiring their friend\u2019s return. But he noticed that she ate next to\nnothing, and that she often signed to Ang\u00e9lique to remove her plate on\nwhich the food remained untasted. Once he could not forbear exclaiming:\n\u201cAh! if we were in Paris I could get some _friandise_ to tempt thee!\u201d\n\nIn the middle of January one morning a letter came from Sir Simon,\nbearing the London postmark.\n\nHe had been obliged to come to England on pressing business of a\nharassing nature.\n\n\u201cIs Sir Simon coming home, petit p\u00e8re?\u201d inquired Franceline eagerly, as\nher father opened the letter.\n\n\u201cYes; but only for a day. He will be here after to-morrow, and fly away\nto Nice the next day.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow tiresome of him! But it is better to see him for a day than not at\nall. Does he say what hour he arrives? We will go and meet him.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt will be too late for thee to be out, my child. He comes by the late\nafternoon train, just in time to dress for dinner and receive us all. He\nhas invited several friends in the neighborhood to dine.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat a funny idea! And he is only coming for the day?\u201d\n\n\u201cOnly for the day.\u201d\n\nRaymond\u2019s eyebrows closed like a horseshoe over his meditative eyes\nas he folded the baronet\u2019s letter and laid it aside. There was more\nin it than he communicated to Franceline. It was the old story; money\ntight, bills falling due, and no means of meeting them. Lady Rebecca\nhad taken a fresh start, thanks to an Italian quack who had been up\nfrom Naples and worked wonders with some diabolical elixir--diabolical\nbeyond a doubt, for nothing but the black-art could explain the sudden\nand extraordinary rally; she was all but dead when the quack arrived--so\nMr. Simpson heard from one of her ladyship\u2019s attendants. Simpson himself\nwas terribly put out by the news; it overturned all his immediate plans;\nhe saw no possibility of any longer avoiding extremities. Extremities\nmeant that the principal creditor, a Jew who had lent a sum of thirty\nthousand pounds on Sir Simon\u2019s life-interest in Dullerton, at the rate\nof twenty per cent, was now determined to wait no longer for his arrears\nof twenty per cent, but turn the baronet out of possession and sell his\nlife-interest in the estate. This sword of Damocles had been hanging over\nhis debtor\u2019s head for the last ten years. It was to meet this usurious\ninterest periodically that Sir Simon was driven to such close quarters.\nHe had up to this time contrived to answer the demand--Heaven and Mr.\nSimpson alone knew at what sacrifices. But now he had come to a point\nbeyond which even he declared he could not possibly carry his client. He\nhad tried to negotiate post-obit bills on Lady Rebecca\u2019s fifty thousand\npounds, but the Jews were too sharp for that. Lady Rebecca was sole\nmaster of her fifty thousand pounds, and might leave it to whom she\nliked. She had made her will bequeathing it to her step-son, and _he_\nwas morally as certain of ultimately possessing the money as if it were\nentailed; but moral security is no security at all to a money-lender.\nThe money was _not_ entailed; Lady Rebecca might take it into her head\nto alter her will; she might leave it to a quack doctor, or to some\nclever sycophant of an attendant. There is no saying what an old lady of\nseventy-five may not do with fifty thousand pounds. Sir Simon pshawed\nand pooh-poohed contemptuously when Simpson enumerated these arguments\nagainst the negotiation of the much-needed P. O. bills; but it was no\nuse. Israel was inexorable. And now one particular member of the tribe\ncalled Moses to witness that if he were not paid his \u201ctwenty per shent\u201d\non the first of February, he would seize upon the life-interest of\nDullerton Court and make its present owner a bankrupt. He could sell\nnothing, either in the house or on the estate; the plate and pictures and\nfurniture were entailed. If this were not the case, things need not have\ncome to this with Sir Simon. Two of those Raphaels in the great gallery\nwould have paid the Jew principal and interest together; but not a spoon\nor a hearth-brush in the Court could be touched; everything belonged to\nthe heir. No mention has hitherto been made of that important person,\nbecause he in no way concerns this story, except by the fact of his\nexistence. He was a distant kinsman of the present baronet, who had never\nseen him. He was in diplomacy, and so lived always abroad. People are\nsaid to dislike their heirs.\n\nIf Sir Simon disliked any human being, it was his. He did not dislike\nLady Rebecca; he was only out of patience with her; she certainly was\nan aggravating old woman--living on to no purpose, that he could see,\nexcept to frustrate and harass him. Yet he had kindly thoughts of her;\nhe had only cold aversion towards the man who was waiting for his own\ndeath to come and rule in his stead. He had never spoken of him to M. de\nla Bourbonais except to inform him that he existed, and that he stood\nin his way on many occasions. In the letter of this morning he spoke of\nhim once more. The letter was a long one, and calmer than any previous\neffusion of the kind that Raymond remembered. There was very little\nvituperation of the duns, or even of the chief scoundrel who was about\nto tear away the veil that had hitherto concealed the sores and flaws\nin the popular landlord\u2019s life. This was what he felt most deeply in\nit all; the disgrace of being shown up as a sham--a man who had lived\nlike a prince while he had been in reality a beggar, in debt up to his\nears, and who was now about to be made a bankrupt. Raymond had never\nbefore understood the real nature of his friend\u2019s embarrassment; he\nwas shocked and distressed more than he could express. It was not the\nmoment to judge him; to remember the reckless extravagance, the criminal\nwant of prudence, of conscience, that had brought him to this pass. He\nonly thought of the friend of his youth, the kind, faithful, delightful\ncompanion who had never failed in friendship, whatever his other sins\nmay have been. And now he was ruined, disgraced before the world, going\nto be driven forth from his ancestral home branded as a life-long sham.\nRaymond could have wept for pity. Then it occurred to him with a strange\npang that he was to dine with Sir Simon the next day; the head cook had\nbeen telegraphed for to prepare the dinner; there was to be a jovial\ngathering of friends to \u201ccheer him up.\u201d What a mystery it was, this\ncraving for being cheered up, as if the process were a substantial remedy\nthat in some way helped to pay debts, or postpone payment! The count was\ntoo sad at heart to smile. He rose from the breakfast-table with a sigh,\nand was leaving the room when Franceline linked her hands on his arm, and\nsaid, looking up with an anxious face:\n\n\u201cIt is a long letter, petit p\u00e8re; is there any bad news?\u201d\n\n\u201cThere is hardly any news at all,\u201d he replied evasively. In truth there\nwas not.\n\n\u201cThen why do you look so sad?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy dost thou look so pale?\u201d was the reply. And he smiled tenderly and\nsighed again as he kissed her forehead.\n\nTO BE CONTINUED.\n\n\n\u00c6SCHYLUS.\n\n    A sea-cliff carved into a bas-relief!\n    Art, rough from Nature\u2019s hand; by brooding Nature\n    Wrought out in spasms to shapes of Titan stature;\n    Emblems of Fate, and Change, Revenge, and Grief,\n    And Death, and Life; in giant hieroglyph\n    Confronting still with thunder-blasted frieze\n    All stress of years, and winds, and wasting seas--\n    The stranger nears it in his western skiff,\n    And hides his eyes. Few, few shall dare, great Bard,\n    Thy watery portals! Entering, fewer yet\n    Shall pierce thy music\u2019s meaning, deep and hard!\n    But these shall owe to thee an endless debt;\n    The Eleusinian caverns they shall tread\n    That wind beneath man\u2019s heart; and wisdom learn with dread.\n\n                                                          AUBREY DE VERE.\n\n\nA PRECURSOR OF MARCO POLO.\n\nThe merchants and missionaries who were the first travellers and\nambassadors of Christian times little thought, absorbed as they were in\nthe object of their quest, how large a share of interest in the eyes\nof posterity would centre in the quaint observations, descriptions,\nand drawings which they were able incidentally to gather or make.\nMarco Polo\u2019s name, and even those of his father and uncle, Niccolo and\nMatteo Polo, are well known, and are associated with all that barbaric\nmagnificence the memory of which had a great share in keeping alive\nthe perseverance of subsequent explorers. It was fitting that traders\nin jewels should reach the more civilized and splendid Tartars, and\nno doubt their store of rich presents, and their garments of ample\ndimensions as well as fine texture, would prove a passport through\ntribes so passionately acquisitive as the Tartars seem to have been.\nNomads are not always simple-minded or unambitious. The Franciscan whose\ntravels come just between the expedition of the elder Polo and the more\nfamous Marco--Friar William Rubruquis--did not have the good-luck to\nsee the wonders his successor described; but he mentions repeatedly\nthat his entertainers made reiterated and minute inquiries as to the\nabundance of flocks and herds in the country he came from, and that they\nwondered--rather contemptuously--at the presents of sweet wine, dried\nfruits, and delicate cakes which were all he had to offer their great\nprinces.\n\nRubruquis was traveller, missionary, and ambassador, but in the two\npursuits denoted by the last-mentioned titles his success was but small.\nAs a traveller, however, he was hardy, persevering, and observant. Though\nnot bred a horseman, he often rode thirty leagues a day, and half the\ntime at full gallop, he says. His companions, monks like himself, could\nnot stand the fatigue, and both, at different intervals, parted company\nfrom him. But Rubruquis was young and strong, though, as he himself says,\ncorpulent and heavy; and, above all, he was enterprising. He was not\nmore than five-and-twenty when he started on his quest of the Christian\nmonarch whom all the rulers of Europe firmly believed in, and whose name\nhas come down to us as Prester John.\n\nBorn in 1230, he devoted himself early to the church, and during the\nFourth Crusade went on a pilgrimage to the Holy Land. His real name was\nRuysbroek, but, according to the unpatriotic fashion of the times, he\nLatinized it into Rubruquis. S. Louis, King of France, eager for the\nChristian alliance which the supposed Prester John would be able to enter\ninto with him, had once already sent an embassy of monks to seek him; but\nthey had failed to perform a sixth part of the journey set down for them,\nand had heard no tidings of a monarch answering to the description. The\nking, nothing daunted, determined to send another embassy on a voyage\nof discovery Vague news of a Christian Tartar chief, by name Sartach,\nhad come to him; probably the toleration extended by the Tartars to\nChristians--a contrast to the behavior of most Saracenic chiefs--led to\nthis obstinate belief in a remote Christian empire of the East.\n\nWilliam de Rubruquis, Bartholomew of Cremona, and a companion named\nAndrew, all Franciscan friars, were chosen for this new expedition.\nOn the 7th of May, 1253 (says his narrative, though it has since been\ncalculated that, as S. Louis was a captive at the time, the date 1255 is\nmore likely to be correct), the travellers, having crossed the Black Sea\nfrom Constantinople, landed at Soldaia, near Cherson. The king, somewhat\nunwisely as it proved, had told his envoy to represent himself as a\nprivate individual travelling on his own account. But the Tartars were\nacute and jealous of foreigners; they knew that travelling entailed too\nmuch fatigue and danger to be undertaken simply for pleasure, and they\nhad small regard for any stranger, unless the representative of a prince.\nThey guessed his mission, and taxed him with it, till he was obliged to\nacknowledge that he was the bearer of letters from the Christian King of\nFrance to the mighty khan, Sartach. But though the people do not seem to\nhave taken him for a private person, they were puzzled by the poverty of\nhis dress and the scantiness of the presents he offered them. Even small\ndignitaries expected to be royally propitiated. He explained his vow of\npoverty to them, but this did not impress the Tartars as favorably as he\nwished. Still, he met with nothing but civility and hospitality.\n\nRubruquis says that Soldaia was a great mart for furs, which the\nRussians exchanged with the merchants of Constantinople for silks,\ncotton, spices, etc. The third day after his departure he met a wandering\ntribe, \u201camong whom being entered,\u201d he says, \u201cmethought I was come into a\nnew world.\u201d\n\nHe goes on to describe their houses on wheels, no despicable or narrow\nhabitations, even according to modern ideas:\n\n\u201cTheir houses, in which they sleep, they raise upon a round foundation of\nwickers artificially wrought and compacted together, the roof consisting\nof wickers also meeting above in one little roundel, out of which there\nrises upwards a neck like a chimney, which they cover with white felt;\nand often they lay mortar or white earth upon the felt with the powder\nof bones, that it may shine and look white; sometimes, also, they cover\ntheir houses with black felt. This cupola \u2026 they adorn with a variety\nof pictures. Before the door they hang a felt curiously painted over;\nfor they spend all their colored felt in painting vines, trees, birds,\nand beasts thereupon. These houses they make so large that they contain\nthirty feet in breadth; for, measuring once the breadth between the\nwheel-ruts, \u2026 I found it to be twenty feet over, and when the house was\nupon the cart it stretched over the wheels on each side five feet at\nleast. I told two-and-twenty oxen in one draught, drawing an house upon a\ncart, and eleven more on the other side. (Two rows, one in front of the\nother, we suppose.) \u2026 A fellow stood in the door of the house, driving\nthe oxen.\u201d\n\nSometimes a woman drove, or walked at the head of the leaders to guide\nthem. \u201cOne woman will guide twenty or thirty carts at once; for their\ncountry is very flat, and they fasten the carts with camels or oxen one\nbehind another. A girl sits in the foremost cart, driving the oxen, and\nall the rest of themselves follow at a like pace. When they come to a\nplace which is a bad passage, they loose them, and guide them one by\none.\u2026\u201d\n\nThe baggage was so arranged as to be taken through the smaller rivers\nof Asia without being injured or wetted. It consisted of square chests\nof wicker-work, with a hollow lid or cover of the same, \u201ccovered with\nblack felt, rubbed over with tallow or sheep\u2019s milk to keep the rain from\nsoaking through, which they also adorn with painting or white feathers.\u201d\nThese were placed on carts with very high wheels, and drawn by camels\ninstead of oxen. The encampment was like a large village, well defended\nby palisades formed of the carts off which the houses had been taken,\nand which were drawn up in two compact lines, one in front and one in\nthe rear of the dwellings, \u201cas it were between two walls,\u201d says our\ntraveller. A rich Tartar commonly had one hundred, or even two hundred,\nsuch cart-houses. Each house had several small houses belonging to it,\nplaced behind it, serving as closets, store-rooms, and sleeping chambers,\nand often as many as two hundred chests and their necessary carts. This\nmade immense numbers of camels and oxen for draught necessary; and,\nbesides, there were the animals for food and milk, and the horses for the\nmen. They had cow\u2019s milk and mare\u2019s milk, two species of food which they\nused very differently, and even made of social and religious importance.\nOnly the men were allowed to milk the mares, while the women attended to\nthe cows; and any interchange of these offices would have been deemed,\nin a man, unpardonable effeminacy, and in a woman indelicacy. At the door\nof the houses stood two tutelary deities, monsters of both sexes. The\ncow\u2019s milk served for the food of women and children, while the mare\u2019s\nmilk was made into a fermented liquor called cosmos. This was supposed\nto make a heathen of the man who drank it; for the Nestorian Christians\nfound among them, \u201cwho keep their own laws very strictly, will not drink\nthereof; they account themselves no Christians after they have once drunk\nof it; and their priests reconcile them to the church as if they had\nrenounced the Christian faith.\u201d\n\nThis cosmos was made thus: The milk was poured into a large skin bag,\nand the bag beaten with a wooden club until the milk began to ferment\nand turn sour. The bag was then shaken and cudgelled again until most of\nit turned to butter; after which the liquid was supposed to be fit for\ndrinking. Rubruquis evidently liked it; says it was exhilarating to the\nspirits, and even intoxicating to weak heads; pungent to the taste, \u201clike\nraspberry wine,\u201d but left a flavor on the palate \u201clike almond-milk.\u201d\nCara-cosmos, a rarer quality of the same, and reserved for the chiefs\nonly, was produced by prolonging the beating of the bag until the\ncoagulated portions subsided to the bottom. These drinks were received as\ntribute or taxes. Baatu, a chief with sixteen wives, received the produce\nof three thousand mares daily, besides a quantity of common cosmos, a\nbowl of which almost always stood on the threshold of every rich man\u2019s\nhouse. The Tartars often drank of it to excess, and their banquets were\nrelieved by music.\n\nAt these feasts, in which both sexes participated, the guests clapped\ntheir hands and danced to the music, the men before their host, the\nwomen before his principal wife. The host always drank first. The moment\nhe put his lips to the bowl of cosmos, his cup-bearer cried aloud\n\u201cHa!\u201d and the musicians struck up. This almost sounds like a medi\u00e6val\nTwelfth-night banquet, when all the guests rose and shouted, \u201cThe king\ndrinks!\u201d and then drained their goblets in imitation of the monarch of\nthe night. The Tartars respectfully waited till the lord of the feast\nhad finished his draught, when the cup-bearer again cried \u201cHa!\u201d and the\nmusic ceased. After a pause, the guests, male and female, drank round in\nturns, each one to the sound of music, with a pause and silence before\nthe next person took up the cup. This fashion of drinking continued\nunchanged for many centuries, and later travellers, amid the increased\npomp of the court of the Tartar emperors of China, found it still in\nforce--music, cries, pauses, and all. We have also seen, not many years\nago, on the occasion of the marriage of the late young emperor of China,\nillustrations of the wedding procession, representing immensely wide\ncarts, drawn by eleven oxen abreast, laden with costly state furniture;\nand if we take away the pomp and gilding, the picture is not unlike that\nof the Tartar camp-carts seen by our traveller. Rubruquis hints that the\nTartars were not a temperate people; they drank much and not cleanly,\nand the way of \u201cinviting\u201d a person to drink was to seize his ears and\npull them forcibly. The sweet wine, of which the monk had a small supply,\npleased them very well, but they thought him not lavish enough in his\nhospitality; for once, on his offering the master of the house one flagon\nof this wine, the man gravely drained it and asked for another, saying\nthat \u201ca man does not go into a house with one foot.\u201d In return, however,\nthey did not give him much to eat; but perhaps he suffered hunger rather\nfrom his prejudice to the meat they ate than from their niggardliness\nin giving. He at last learned to eat horse-flesh, but was disgusted at\nhis friends\u2019 eating the bodies of animals that had died of disease. The\nTartars were honest enough, and, never even took things by force; but\nthey begged for everything that took their fancy as unblushingly as some\nof Paul Du Chaillu\u2019s negroes in Africa. It surprised them to be refused\nanything--knives, gloves, purses, etc.--and, when gratified, never\nthought it necessary to thank their guests.\n\nAfter a while Rubruquis met the carts of Zagatai, one of the chieftains,\nto whom he brought a letter from the Emperor of Constantinople. Here\nthe Tartars asked \u201cwhat we had in our carts--whether it were gold, or\nsilver, or rich garments\u201d; and both Zagatai and his interpreter were\nhaughtily discontented at finding that at least some garment of value\nwas not forthcoming. This is not wonderful, considering the wealth of\ntheir own great khans, of whom a later one, Kooblai, so celebrated in\nMarco Polo\u2019s travels, gave his twelve lords, twelve times in the year,\nrobes of gold-colored silk, embroidered with gold and precious stones.\nZagatai, however, received the ambassador graciously. \u201cHe sat on his\nbed,\u201d[45] says Rubruquis, \u201cholding a musical instrument in his hand,\nand his wife sat by him, who, in my opinion, had cut and pared her nose\nbetween the eyes, that she might seem to be more flat-nosed; for she had\nleft herself no nose at all in that place, having anointed the very scar\nwith black ointment, as she also did her eyebrows, which sight seemed to\nme most ugly.\u2026 I besought him that he would accept this small gift at our\nhands, excusing myself that I was a monk, and that it was against our\nprofession to possess gold, silver, or precious garments, and therefore\nthat I had not any such thing to give him, unless he would receive some\npart of our victuals instead of a blessing.\u201d The Tartars were always\neager to receive a blessing over and above any present. He was constantly\nasked to make over them the sign of the cross; but it is to be feared\nthat they looked upon it as a charm, and of charms they couldn\u2019t have\ntoo many. From Zagatai, Rubruquis went to Sartach, who said he had no\npower of treating with him, and sent him on to his father-in-law, Baatu,\nthe patriarch with sixteen wives and several hundred houses. Losing\nhis ox-wagons and baggage on the way--for the independent tribes did\nnot scruple to exact tribute from a traveller, even if he was a friend\nof their neighbors--he never lost his courage and his determination\nto sow the seeds of truth in Tartary. He did not know the language at\nfirst, and only learnt it very imperfectly at the last. Here and there\na captive Christian, mostly Hungarians, or a Tartar who had learnt the\nrudiments of Christianity during an invasion of his tribe into Europe,\nacted as interpreter. All were uniformly kind to him. One of them,\nwho understood Latin and psalmody, was in great request at all the\nfunerals of his neighborhood; but the \u201cChristianity\u201d of the natives was\nbut a shred of Nestorianism worked into a web of paganism, so that, the\nfarther he advanced, the farther the great, powerful, united Christian\ncommunity headed by Prester John seemed to recede. The people took kindly\nto Christian usages, and had some respect for the forms and ceremonies\nwhich the monk and his companions endeavored to keep up; but when it\ncame to doctrine and morality, they grew impatient and unresponsive. One\nof Rubruquis\u2019 interpreters often refused to do his office. \u201cAnd thus,\u201d\nsays the traveller, \u201cit caused me great chagrin when I wished to address\nto them a few words of edification; for he would say to me, \u2018You shall\nnot make me preach to-day; I understand nothing of all you tell me.\u2019 \u2026\nAnd then he spoke the truth; for afterwards, as I began to understand a\nlittle of their tongue, I perceived that when I told him one thing he\nrepeated another, just according to his fancy. Therefore, seeing it was\nno use to talk or preach, I held my tongue.\u201d\n\nHard riding was not the only thing that distressed the ambassador of\nthe King of France. His companions gave him meat that was less than\nhalf-cooked, and sometimes positively raw. Then the cold began to be\nsevere, and still there were at least four months\u2019 travel before him.\nThe Tartars were kind to him in their rough way, and gave him some of\ntheir thick sheepskins and hide shoes. He had insisted on journeying most\nof the time in his Franciscan sandals, and, full of ardor for his rule,\nhad constantly refused gifts of costly garments. This the Tartars never\nquite understood, but they respected the principle which caused him to\nmake so many sacrifices for the sake and furtherance of his religion.\nWherever he passed, he and his companions endeared themselves to the\ninhabitants by many little services (doubtless also by cures wrought\nby simple remedies), and generally by their gentle, unselfish conduct\ntowards all men. Rubruquis observed everything minutely as he passed. The\nmanners and customs of the people interested him, and perhaps he did not\nconsider them quite such barbarians as we of later days are apt to do.\nWhen we read the accounts of domestic life among the majority of people\nin medi\u00e6val times, and see that refinement of manner was less thought of\nthan costliness of apparel and wealth of plate and cattle, the difference\nbetween such manners and those of the Tartars is not appreciable. Few in\nthose days were learned, and learning it is that has always made the real\ndifference between a gentleman and a boor. The marauding chieftains of\nfeudal times were only romantic and titled highwaymen after all. So were\nthe wandering Tartars. The difference that has since sprung up between\nthe descendants of the marauding barons and those of the Tartar chiefs is\nmainly one of race. The former are of an enterprising, improving race,\nthe latter of a stagnant one; and while the European nations that then\ntrembled before the invading hordes of Jengis-Khan have now developed\ninto intellectual superiority over every other race in the world, the\nTartar is still, socially and intellectually, on the same old level, and\nhis political advantages have vanished with his rude warlike superiority\nbefore the diplomacy and the military organization of his former victims.\n\nRubruquis noticed that among the superstitions common in Tartary was a\nbelief that it was unlucky for a visitor to touch the threshold of a\nTartar\u2019s door. Modern travellers assert the same of the Chinese. Whenever\nour envoy paid a visit, he deferred to this belief by carefully stepping\nacross the threshold of the house or tent, without letting any part of\nhis person or dress come in contact with it. Their dress, on festive\noccasions, was rich; for they traded with China, Persia, and other\nsouthern and eastern countries for \u201cstuffs of silk, cloths of gold, and\ncotton cloths, which they wear in time of summer; but out of Russia,\nBulgaria, Hungaria, and out of Chersis (all which are northern regions\nand full of woods), \u2026 the inhabitants bring them rich and costly skins\nand furs of divers sorts, which I never saw in our countries, wherewithal\nthey are clad in winter.\u201d The rough sheepskin coats had their place also\nin their toilet, and a material made of two-thirds wool and one-third\nhorsehair furnished them with caps, saddle-cloths, and felt for covering\ntheir wagons.\n\nThe women\u2019s dress was distinguished from the men\u2019s simply by its greater\nlength, and they often rode, like the men, astride their horses, their\nfaces protected by a white veil, crossing the nose just below the eyes\nand descending to the breast. Immense size and flat noses were the great\ndesiderata among them. Marriage was a mere bargain, and daughters were\ngenerally sold to the highest bidder. Though expert hunters, the Tartars\nwere scarcely what we should call sportsmen. They hunted on the _battue_\nsystem, spreading themselves in a wide circle, and gradually contracting\nthis as they drove the game before them, until the unfortunate animals\nbeing penned in in a small space, they were easily shot down by\nwholesale. Hawking was also in vogue among the Tartars, and was reduced\nas much to a science as in Europe. They strenuously punished great crimes\nwith death, as, for instance, murder, theft, adultery, and even minor\noffences against chastity. This, however, was less the consequence of a\nregard for virtue _per se_ than of a vivid perception of the rights of\nproperty. No code but the Jewish and the Christian ever protected the\nhonor of women for its own sake. In mourning for the dead it is strange\nthat violent howling and lamentation, even on the part of those not\npersonally concerned, should be a form common to almost all nations, not\nonly of different religions, but of various and widely-separated races.\nThe Tartars, as well as the Celts, practised it. Rubruquis mentions that\nthey made various monuments over the graves of their dead, sometimes mere\nmounds or barrows of earth, or towers of brick and even of stone--though\nno stone was to be found near the spot--and sometimes large open spaces,\npaved with stone, with four large stones placed upright at the corners,\nalways facing the four cardinal points.\n\nIt was during winter that the envoy arrived at the court or encampment of\nMandchu-Khan. He says that it was at the distance of twenty days\u2019 journey\nfrom Cataya, or Cathay (China), but it is difficult to say exactly where\nthat was. Here Rubruquis found a number of Nestorian priests peacefully\nliving under the khan\u2019s protection, and among them one who had only\narrived a month before the Franciscan friar, and said he had come, in\nconsequence of a vision, to convert the khan and his people. He was an\nArmenian from the Holy Land. Our missionary describes him thus in his\nterse, direct way, which has this advantage over the long-winded and\nminute descriptions of our day, that we seem to see the man before us:\n\u201cHe was a monk, somewhat black and lean, clad with a rough hair-coat\nto the knees, having over it a black cloak of bristles, furred with\nspotted skins, girt with iron under his hair-cloth.\u201d Mandchu-Khan was\ntolerant and liberal, and rather well disposed than otherwise to the\nChristian religion. His favorite wife, whom he had lately lost, had\nbeen a Christian, and so was his first secretary, but both Nestorian\nChristians. The khan, or his servants--who doubtless expected to be\npropitiated with the usual gifts if they could only succeed in wearying\nout the patience of the new-comers--made the envoy wait nine days for\nan audience. The Tartars thought it strange that a king\u2019s ambassador\nshould come to court bare-foot; but a boy, a Hungarian captive, again\ngave the required and often-repeated explanation. Before entering the\nlarge hall, whose entrance was closed by curtains of gayly-painted felt,\nthe monks were searched, to see if they carried any concealed arms; and\nthen the procession formed, the Christian missionaries entering the\nkhan\u2019s presence singing the hymn _A Solis ortus cardine_. The khan,\nlike the lesser chieftains Rubruquis had already met, was seated on a\n\u201cbed\u201d or divan, dressed \u201cin a spotted skin or fur, bright and shining.\u201d\nThe multitudinous bowings and prostrations in use at the Chinese court\nwere very likely exacted, though the envoy says in general terms that\n\u201che had to bend the knee.\u201d Such simplicity is, however, very far from\nthe ceremonious Oriental ideal of homage, and it was not then, as it\nis now, esteemed an honor to receive Frankish envoys in the Frankish\nmanner. Mandchu first offered his guests a drink of fermented milk, of\nwhich they partook sparingly, not to offend him; but the interpreter\nsoon made himself unfit for his office by his indulgence in his favorite\nbeverage. Rubruquis stated his mission with modest simplicity. In his\nquality of ambassador he might have resented the delay in receiving\nhim; he might have complained of the familiarity and want of respect\nwith which he had been often treated, and of the advantage taken of\nhis gentleness and ignorance of the language to plunder him; but he\nwas more than a king\u2019s messenger. He was intent upon preaching the\n\u201cgood tidings\u201d to the Tartars, and only used human means to compass a\ndivine end. He acknowledged that he had no rich presents nor temporal\ngoods to offer, but only spiritual benefits to impart. His practice\ncertainly did not belie his theory. The people never disbelieved him,\nnor suspected him of being a political emissary. But still, he was\nunsuccessful. He soon perceived that his interpreter was blundering, and\nsays: \u201cI easily found he was drunk, and Mandchu-Khan himself was drunk\nalso, as I thought.\u201d All he could obtain was leave to remain in the\ncountry during the cold season. Inquiries met him on all sides as to the\nwealth and state of Europe; but of religion, beyond the few forms that\npleased their eye, the people did not seem to think. They looked down\nwith lofty indifference on the faith of those various adventurers whom\ntheir sovereign kindly sheltered, and ranked the Christian priests they\nalready knew in the same category with conjurers and quack doctors. The\nChristianity of these Nestorians was even more imperfect than that of\nthe Abyssinians at the time of the late English invasion of the unlucky\nKing Theodore\u2019s dominions. Rubruquis was horrified to find in these\npriests mere superstitious mountebanks. They mingled Tartar rites with\ncorrupt ceremonies of the Catholic Church, and practised all manner of\ndeceptions, mixing rhubarb with holy water as a medicinal drink, and\ncarrying to the bedside of the sick lances and swords half-drawn from\ntheir sheaths along with the crucifix. Upon these grounds they pretended\nto the power of working miracles and curing the sick by spiritual means\nalone. The Franciscan zealously tried to reform these abuses and to\nconvert the Nestorians before he undertook to preach to the Tartars; but\nhere again he was unsuccessful. The self-interest of these debased men\nwas in question, and truth was little to them in comparison with the\ncomfort and consideration they enjoyed as leeches.\n\nA curious scene occurred while at this encampment of the khan. There\nwere many Mahometans in the country, and the sovereign, with impartial\ntolerance, protected them and their commerce as he did the person and\nproperty of other refugees. They, the Christians, and some representative\nTartars were all assembled one day, by order of Mandchu, to discuss in\npublic the merits of their respective faiths. But even on this occasion\nno bitterness was evinced, and the meeting, though it turned out useless\nin a spiritual sense, ended in a friendly banquet. Rubruquis did\nhis best to improve this opportunity of teaching the truth; but the\nhour of successful evangelization had not yet struck, and much of the\nindifference of the Tartars is to be attributed to the culpable practices\nof the Nestorians, whose behavior was enough to discredit the religion\nthey pretended to profess. But if the missionary, notwithstanding all\nhis zeal, was unable to convert the heathens, he at least comforted and\nstrengthened many captive Christians. We have already mentioned a few of\nthese, and in Mandchu\u2019s camp he met with another, a woman from Metz in\nLorraine, who had been taken prisoner in Hungary, and been carried back\ninto their own country by the invaders. She had at first suffered many\nhardships, but ended by marrying a young Russian, a captive like herself,\nwho was skilful in the art of building wooden houses. The Tartars prized\nthis kind of knowledge, and were kind to the young couple, who were now\nleading a tolerably comfortable life, and had a family of three children.\nTo fancy their joy at seeing a genuine Christian missionary is almost\nout of our power in these days of swift communication, when nothing is\nany longer a marvel; but if we could put ourselves in their place, we\nmight paint a wonderful picture of thankfulness, surprise, and simple,\nrock-like faith. The latter part of Lent was spent in travelling, as the\nkhan broke up his encampment, and went on across a chain of mountains to\na great city, Karakorum, or Karak\u00fbm, on the river Orchon. Every vestige\nof such a city has disappeared centuries ago, but Marco Polo mentions it\nand describes its streets, situation, defences, etc. He arrived there\nnearly twenty years later, and noticed that it was surrounded by a strong\nrampart of earth, there being no good supply of stone in those parts.\n\nThe passage of the Changai Mountains was a terrible undertaking; the\ncold was intense and the weather stormy, and the khan, with his usual\nbland eclecticism, begged Rubruquis to \u201cpray to God in his own fashion\u201d\nfor milder weather, chiefly for the sake of the cattle. On Palm Sunday\nthe envoy blessed the willow-boughs he saw on his way, though he says\nthere were no buds on them yet; but they were near the city now, and\nthe weather had become more promising. Rubruquis had his eyes wide open\nas he came to the first organized city of the Tartars, as Marco Polo\naffirms this to have been. It had scarcely been built twenty years when\nour monk visited it, and owed its origin to the son and successor of\nJengis-Khan. \u201cThere were two grand streets in it,\u201d says Rubruquis, \u201cone\nof the Saracens, where the fairs are kept (held), and many merchants\nresort thither, and one other street of the Cathayans (Chinese), who are\nall artificers.\u201d Many of the latter were captives, or at least subjects,\nof the khan; for the Tartars had already conquered the greater part of\nNorthern China. The khan lived in a castle or palace outside the earthen\nrampart. In Karakorum, again, the monk found many Christians, Armenian,\nGeorgian, Hungarian, and even of Western European origin. Among others\nhe mentions an Englishman--whom he calls Basilicus, and who had been\nborn in Hungary--and a few Germans. But the most important personage of\nforeign birth was a French goldsmith, William Bouchier, whose wife was\na Hungarian, but of Mahometan parentage. This Benvenuto Cellini of the\nEast was rich and liberal, an excellent interpreter, thoroughly at home\nin the Tartar dialects, a skilful artist, and in high favor at court. He\nhad just finished a masterpiece of mechanism and beauty which Rubruquis\nthus minutely describes: \u201cIn the khan\u2019s palace, because it was unseemly\nto carry about bottles of milk and other drinks there, Master William\nmade him a great silver tree, at the root whereof were four silver\nlions, having each one pipe, through which flowed pure cow\u2019s milk; and\nfour other pipes were conveyed within the body of the tree unto the top\nthereof, and the tops spread back again downwards, and upon every one\nof them was a golden serpent, whose tails twined about the body of the\ntree. And one of these pipes ran with wine, another with cara-cosmos,\nanother with _ball_--a drink made of honey--and another with a drink made\nof rice. Between the pipes, at the top of the tree, he made an angel\nholding a trumpet, and under the tree a hollow vault, wherein a man\nmight be hid; and a pipe ascended from this vault through the tree to\nthe angel. He first made bellows, but they gave not wind enough. Without\nthe palace walls there was a chamber wherein the several drinks were\nbrought; and there were servants there ready to pour them out when they\nheard the angel sounding his trumpet. And the boughs of the tree were of\nsilver, and the leaves and the fruit. When, therefore, they want drink,\nthe master-butler crieth to the angel that he sound the trumpet. Then\nhe hearing (who is hid in the vault), bloweth the pipe, which goeth to\nthe angel, and the angel sets his trumpet to his mouth, and the trumpet\nsoundeth very shrill. Then the servants which are in the chamber hearing,\neach of them poureth forth his drink into its proper pipe, and all the\npipes pour them forth from above, and they are received below in vessels\nprepared for that purpose.\u201d\n\nThis elaborate piece of plate makes one think rather of the XVIth\ncentury banquets of the Medici and the Este than of feastings given\nby a nomad Tartar in the wilds of Central Asia. The goldsmith was not\nunknown to fame even in Europe, where he was called William of Paris.\nSeveral old chroniclers speak of him, and his brother Roger was well\nknown as a goldsmith \u201cliving upon the great bridge at Paris.\u201d This clever\nartist very nearly fell a victim to the quackery of a Nestorian monk,\nwhereupon Rubruquis significantly comments thus: \u201cHe entreated him to\nproceed either as an apostle doing miracles indeed, by virtue of prayer,\nor to administer his potion as a physician, according to the art of\nmedicine.\u201d Besides the Tartars and their Christian captives, Rubruquis\nhad opportunities of observing the numerous Chinese, or Cathayans, as\nthey were called, who have been mentioned as the artificers of the town.\nThere were also knots of Siberians, Kamtchatkans, and even inhabitants\nof the islands between the extremities of Asia and America, where at\ntimes the sea was frozen over. Rubruquis picked up a good deal of\nmiscellaneous information, chiefly about the Chinese. He mentions their\npaper currency--a fact which Marco Polo subsequently verified--and their\nmode of writing; _i.e._, with small paint-brushes, and each character or\nfigure signifying a whole word. The standard of value of the Russians,\nhe says, consisted in spotted furs--a currency which still exists in the\nremoter parts of Siberia.\n\nIt was not without good reason, no doubt, that the monk-envoy made up\nhis mind to leave the country he had hoped either to evangelize or to\nfind already as orthodox as his own, and ruled by a great Christian\npotentate. Such perseverance as he showed throughout his journey was not\nlikely to be daunted by slight obstacles; but finding the object of his\nmission as far from attainment as when he first entered Tartary, he at\nlast reluctantly left the field. Only one European besides himself had\nventured so far--Friar Bartholomew of Cremona; but even he shrank before\na renewal of the hardships of mountain and desert travel, and chose\nrather to stay behind with Master William, the hospitable goldsmith, till\nsome more convenient opportunity should present itself of returning to\nhis own country. Rubruquis accordingly started alone, with a servant,\nan interpreter, and a guide; but though he had asked for leave to go\non Whitsunday, the permission was delayed till the festival of S. John\nBaptist, the 24th of June. The khan made him a few trifling presents, and\ngave him a complimentary letter to the King of France; but no definite\nresults were obtained. The homeward journey was long and tedious, and\nthe only provision made for the sustenance of the party was a permission\nfrom the khan to take a sheep \u201conce in four days, wherever they could\nfind it.\u201d Sometimes they had nothing to eat for three days together, and\nonly a little cosmos to drink, and more than once, having missed the\nstations of the wandering tribes whom they had reckoned on meeting, even\nthe supply of cosmos was exhausted. About two months after his departure\nfrom Karakorum, Rubruquis met Sartach, the great chief who had sheltered\nhim for some time on his way to the river Don. Some belongings of the\nmission having been left in Sartach\u2019s care, the envoy asked him to return\nthem, but was told they were in charge of Baatu, Rubruquis\u2019 other friend\nand protector. Sartach was on his way to join Mandchu-Khan, and was of\ncourse surrounded by the two hundred houses and innumerable chests which\nbelonged to the establishment of a Tartar patriarch. If this was not\nexactly civilization, it was companionship, and the envoy must have been\nglad of a meeting which replenished his exhausted stores and suggested\ndomestic comfort and abundance. More rough travelling on horseback, more\nexperiences of hunger and cold (for the autumn was already coming on),\nmore fording of rivers, and the monk found himself at Baatu\u2019s court. It\nwas the 16th of September--a year after he had left the chieftain to push\non to the court of the Grand-Khan. Here he was joyfully and courteously\nreceived, and recovered nearly all his property; but as the Tartars had\nconcluded that the whole embassy must have perished long ago, they had\nallowed some Nestorian priest, a wanderer under the protection now of\nSartach, now of Baatu and other khans, to appropriate various Psalters,\nbooks, and ecclesiastical vestments. Three young men, Europeans, whom\nRubruquis had left behind, had nearly been reduced to bondage under the\nsame pretext, but they had not suffered personal ill-treatment. The kind\noffices of some influential Armenians had staved off the evil day, and\nthe timely arrival of the long-missing envoy secured them their freedom.\nRubruquis now joined Baatu\u2019s court, which was journeying westward to a\ntown called Sarai, on the eastern bank of the Volga; but the progress\nof the encumbered Tartars was so slow that he left them after a month\u2019s\ncompanionship, and pushed on with his party, till he reached Sarai on\nthe feast of All Saints. After this the country was almost an unbroken\ndesert; but our traveller once more fell in with one of his Tartar\nfriends, a son of Sartach, who was out upon a hawking expedition, and\ngave him a guard to protect him from various fierce Mahometan tribes that\ninfested the neighborhood.\n\nHere ended his travels in Tartary proper; but his hardships were far\nfrom ended yet. Through Armenia and the territories of Turkish and\nKoordish princes he journeyed slowly and uncomfortably, in dread of the\nviolence of his own guides and guards, as well as of the insults of the\npopulations whose country he traversed. He says these delays \u201carose in\npart from the difficulty of procuring horses, but chiefly because the\nguide chose to stop, often for three days together, in one place, for his\nown business; and, though much dissatisfied, I durst not complain, as he\nmight have slain me and those with me, or sold us all for slaves, and\nthere was none to hinder it.\u201d\n\nJourneying across Asia Minor and over Mount Taurus, he took ship at last\nfor Cyprus. Here he learnt that S. Louis, who had been in the Holy Land\nat the time of his departure, had gone back to France. He would very much\nhave wished to deliver his letters and presents of silk pelisses and\nfurs to the king in person; but this was not granted him. The provincial\nof his order, whom he met at Cyprus, desired him to write his account\nand send his gifts to the king; and as in those days there was creeping\nin among the monks a habit of restless wandering, his superior, who was,\nit seems, a reformer and strict disciplinarian, tried the obedience\nand humility of the famous traveller by sending him to his convent at\nAcre, whence, by the king\u2019s order, he had started. Rubruquis stood the\ntest, but could not forbear imploring the king, by writing, to use his\ninfluence with the provincial to allow him a short stay in France and\none audience of his royal master. Little is known of the great traveller\nand pioneer after this; and whether he ever got leave to see the king\nis doubtful. He fell back into obscurity, and it is presumed that Marco\nPolo did not even know of his previous travels over the same ground as\nthe Polos explored. No record of his embassy remained but the Latin\nletter addressed to S. Louis, and even in France his fame was unknown\nfor many centuries. It was not till after the invention of printing that\nhis adventures became fairly known to the literary world, although Roger\nBacon, one of his own order, had given a spirited abstract of his travels\nin one of his works. This, too, was in Latin, and after a time became\na sealed book to the vulgar; so that it was not at least till the year\n1600 that the old traveller\u2019s name was again known. Hakluyt\u2019s _Collection\nof Voyages and Travels_ contains an English translation of Rubruquis\u2019\nletter, and twenty-five years later Purchas reproduced it _in toto_ from\na copy found in a college library at Cambridge. Bergeron, a French\npriest, put it into French, not from the original, but from Purchas\u2019\nEnglish version. Since then Rubruquis has taken his place among the few\nfamous voyagers of olden times; but from the vagueness of his language,\nthe lack of geographical science in his day, and perhaps also the\nmistakes of careless copyists, it is not easy to trace his course upon\nthe map. One fact, however, he ascertained and insisted upon, which a\ngeographical society, had it existed in his time, would have been glad to\nregister, together with an honorable mention of the discoverer--_i.e._,\nthe nature of the great lake called the Caspian Sea. The old Greeks had\ncorrectly called it an _inland_ sea, but an idea had since prevailed that\nit possessed some communication with the Northern Ocean. Rubruquis proved\nthe contrary, but no attention was paid to his single assertion, and\nbooks of geography, compiled at home from ancient maps and MSS., without\na reference, however distant, to the _facts_ recorded by adventurous\nmen who had seen foreign shores with their eyes, calmly continued to\npropagate the old error.\n\n\nA PARAPHRASE, FROM THE GREEK.\n\n\u039f\u1f50\u03ba \u1f14\u03b8\u03b1\u03bd\u03b5\u03c2, \u03a0\u03c1\u03ce\u03c4\u03b7, \u03ba. \u03c4. \u03bb.--_Greek Anthology._\n\n              Prot\u00ea, thou didst not die,\n              But thou didst fly,\n    When we saw thee no more, to a sunnier clime;\n              In the isles of the blest,\n              In the golden west,\n    Where thy spirit let loose springs joyous and light\n              O\u2019er the verdurous floor,\n              That is strewn evermore\n    With blossoms that fade not, nor droop from their prime.\n              Thou hast made thee a home\n              Where no sorrow shall come,\n    No cloud overshadow thy noon of delight;\n              Cold or heat shall not vex thee,\n              Nor sickness perplex thee,\n    Nor hunger, nor thirst; no touch of regret\n              For the things thou hast cherished,\n              The forms that have perished,\n    For lover or kindred, thy fancy shall fret;\n              But thy joy hath no stain,\n              Thy remembrance no pain,\n    And the heights that we guess at thy sunshine makes plain.\n\n\nTHE LAW OF GOD AND THE REGULATIONS OF SOCIETY.\n\nSUMMARY CONSIDERATIONS ON LAW.\n\nFROM THE FRENCH OF THE COMTE DE BREDA.\n\n    \u201cThere are laws for the society of ants and of bees; how could\n    any one suppose that there are none for human society, and that\n    it is left to the chance of inventing them?\u201d--_De Bonald._\n\n\nI.--THE MODERN STATE.\n\nNever before was liberty so much talked about; never before was the very\nidea of it so utterly lost. Tyrants have been destroyed, it is said. This\nis a false assertion it may be (or rather, is it not certain?) that it\nhas become more difficult for a sovereign to govern tyrannically, but\ntyranny is not dead--quite the contrary.\n\nAll unlimited power is, of its own nature, tyrannical. Now, it is such\na power that the modern state desires to wield. The state is held up\nto us as the supreme arbiter of good and evil; and, if we believe its\ndefenders, it cannot err, its laws being in every case, and at all times,\nbinding.\n\nPeople have banished God from the government of human society; but they\nhave made to themselves a new god, despotic and blind, without hearing\nand without voice, whose power knows how to reach its slaves as well\nin the temple as in the public places, as well in the palace as in the\nhumblest cot.\n\nWhat is there, indeed, more divine than not to do wrong? God\nalone, speaking to the human conscience, either directly or by his\nrepresentatives, is the infallible judge of good and evil. No human power\nwhatsoever can declare all that emanates from it to be necessarily right\nwithout usurping the place of God, and declaring itself the sovereign\nmaster of the soul as well as of the body. The last refuge of the slaves\nof antiquity--the human conscience--would no longer exist for the people\nof modern times, if it were true that every law is binding from the\nmere fact of its promulgation. Hence the modern state, but lately so\nboastful, has begun to waver and to doubt its own powers. It encounters\ntwo principal obstacles, as unlike in their form as in their origin.\n\nOn one hand it beholds Catholics, sustained by their knowledge of law,\nits origin and its essence, resisting passively, and preparing themselves\nto submit to persecutions without even shrinking. On the other it\nmeets, in these our days, the most formidable insurrections. There are\nmultitudes, blind as the state representatives--but excusable, inasmuch\nas their rebellion is against an authority which owes its sway only to\ncaprice or theory--who reply thus to power: \u201cWe are as good as you; you\nhave no right over us other than that of brute force; we will endeavor to\noppose you with a strength equal to yours; and when we shall have gained\nthe victory, we will make new laws and new constitutions, wherein all\nthat you call lawful shall be called unlawful, and all that you consider\ncrime shall be deemed virtue.\u201d\n\nIf it were true that law could spring only from the human will, these\nmadmen would be reasonable in the extreme. Thus the state is powerless\nagainst them. It drags on an uncertain existence, constantly threatened\nwith the most terrible social wars, and enjoying a momentary peace only\non condition of never laying down arms. Modern armies are standing ones;\nthe modern police have become veritable armies, and they sleep neither\nday nor night. At this price do our states exist, trade, grow rich, and\nbecome satisfied with themselves.\n\nThese constant commotions are not alone the vengeance of the living\nGod disowned and outraged; they are also the inevitable consequence of\nthat extremity of pride and folly which has induced human assemblies to\nbelieve that it belongs to them to decide finally between right and wrong.\n\nIn truth, \u201cif God is not the author of law, there is no law really\nbinding.\u201d We may, for the love of God, obey existing powers, even though\nthey be illegitimate; but this submission has its limits. It must cease\nthe moment that the human law prescribes anything contrary to the law\nof God. As for people without faith, we would in vain seek for a motive\npowerful enough to induce them to submit to anything displeasing to them.\n\n\nII.--MODERN LIBERTY.\n\nThe people of our generation consider themselves more free, more\nunrestrained, than those who have gone before them. It is not to our\ngeneration, however, that the glory accrues of having first thrown\noff the yoke. Our moderns themselves acknowledge that they have had\npredecessors, and they agree with us in declaring that \u201cthe new spirit\u201d\nmade its appearance in the world about the XVIth century.[46]\n\nIn truth, the only yoke which has been cast off since then is that of\nGod, which seemed too heavy. All at once thought pronounced itself freed\nfrom the shackles of ecclesiastical authority; but, at the outset, it\nwas far from intended to deny the idea of a divine right superior to all\nhuman right.\n\nDespite the historical falsehoods which have found utterance in our day,\nit was chiefly princes who propagated Protestantism; and, most often,\nthey attained their end only by violence. When successful, they added to\ntheir temporal title a religious one; they made themselves bishops or\npopes, and thus became all the more powerful over their subjects. There\nwas no longer any refuge from the abuse of power of the rulers of this\nworld; for it was the interest of these despots to call themselves the\nrepresentatives of God. By means of this title they secularized dioceses,\nconvents, the goods of the church, and even the ministers of their new\nreligion. This term was then used to express in polite language an idea\nof spoliation and of hypocritical and uncurbed tyranny.\n\nThe moderns have gone farther: they have attempted to secularize law\nitself. This time, again, the word hides a thought which, if it were\nopenly expressed, would shock; the law has become atheistical, and not\nall the opposition which the harshness of this statement has aroused can\nprevent it from still expressing a truth. The inexorable logic of facts\nleads directly from the Reformation to the Revolution. Princes themselves\nsowed the seeds of revolt which will yet despoil them of their power and\ntheir thrones; while as for the people, they have gained nothing. They\nare constantly tyrannized over; but their real masters are unknown, and\ntheir only resource against the encroachments or the abuse of power is an\nappeal to arms.\n\nIt is not, then, true that liberty finds greater space in the modern\nworld than in the ancient Christian world. To prove this, I need but a\nsingle fact which has direct relation with my subject.\n\nWhile Europe was still enveloped in \u201cthe darkness of the Middle Ages,\u201d\nCatholic theologians freely taught, from all their chairs, that \u201can\nunjust law is no law\u201d--\u201cLex injusta non est lex.\u201d Now, are there, at the\npresent day, many pulpits from which this principle, the safeguard of all\nliberty and of all independence, the protector of all rights, and the\ndefence of the helpless, might be proclaimed with impunity? Do we not\nsee the prohibitions, the lawsuits, the _appels comme d\u2019abus_ which the\nboldness of such a maxim would call forth?\n\nHuman governments have changed in form, but their tyranny has not ceased\nto grow; and the free men of the olden society have become the slaves in\na new order of things--they have even reached a point at which they know\nnot even in what liberty consists.\n\n\nIII.--DIVINE ORIGIN OF LAW.\n\nI know, and I hear beforehand, the response which the doctors of modern\nrights will here give me \u201cYes,\u201d say they, \u201cit is very true that the\nCatholic Church has always claimed the right of judging laws and of\nrefusing obedience to such as displeased her; but in this is precisely\nthe worst abuse. That which would domineer over human reason, the\nsovereign of the world, is tyranny _par excellence_; this, in truth, is\nthe special mark of Catholicity, and it is this which has ever made it\nthe religion of the ignorant and the cowardly.\u201d\n\nIs, then, the maxim I have just recalled the invention of Catholic\ntheologians? Is it true that the teachers of the ultramontane doctrine\nalone have contended that the intrinsic worth of a law must be sought\nbeyond and above them, beyond and above the human power which proclaims\nit? Not only has this elementary principle not been devised by our\ntheologians, but even the pagan philosophers themselves had reached it.\nCicero but summed up the teaching universally received by philosophers\nworthy of the name, when he said that the science of law should not be\nsought in the edicts of the pretor, nor even in the laws of the twelve\ntables; and that the most profound philosophy alone could aid in judging\nlaws and teaching us their value.[47]\n\nThis is not to degrade reason, which this same Cicero has defined, or\nrather described, in admirable language. He found therein something\ngrand, something sublime; he declared that it is more fit to command than\nto obey; that it values little what is merely human; that it is gifted\nwith a peculiar elevation which nothing daunts, which yields to no one,\nand which is unconquerable.[48]\n\nBut remark, it is only with regard to human powers and allurements that\nreason shows itself so exalted and haughty. It requires something greater\nthan man to make it submit; and it _obeys_ only God or his delegates.\n\u201cStranger,\u201d said Plato to Clinias the Cretan, \u201cwhom do you consider the\nfirst author of your laws? _Is it a god? Is it a man?_\u201d\n\n\u201cStranger,\u201d replied Clinias, \u201cit is a god; we could not rightly accord\nthis title to any other.\u201d[49]\n\nSo, also, tradition tells us that Minos went, every ninth day, to consult\nJupiter, his father, whose replies he committed to writing. Lycurgus\nwished to have his laws confirmed by the Delphian Apollo, and this god\nreplied that he would dictate them himself. At Rome the nymph Egeria\nplayed the same _r\u00f4le_ with Numa. Everywhere is felt the necessity\nof seeking above man the title in virtue of which he may command his\nfellow-men.\n\nIf we turn now from the fabulous traditions of the ancient world, we\nstill find an absolute truth proclaimed by its sages; one that affirms\nthe existence of an eternal law--_quiddam \u00e6ternum_--which was called the\nnatural law, and which serves as a criterion whereby to judge the worth\nof the laws promulgated by man.\n\nCicero declares it absurd to consider right everything set down in the\nconstitutions or the laws.[50] And he is careful to add that neither is\npublic opinion any more competent to determine the right.[51]\n\nThe sovereign law, therefore--that which no human law may violate without\nthe penalty of becoming void--has God himself for its author.\n\nThe laws of states may be unjust and abominable, and, by consequence,\nbind no one. There is, on the other hand, a natural law, the source and\nmeasure of other laws, originating before all ages, before any law had\nbeen written or any city built.[52]\n\nThis doctrine, to support which I have designedly cited only pagan\nauthors, is also that of Catholic theologians; for example, S. Thomas and\nSuarez. But the philosophical school of the last century has so perverted\nthe meaning of the term _nature--law of nature_, that certain Catholic\nauthors (M. de Bonald, for instance) have scrupled to use the consecrated\nterm. It is necessary, then, to explain its true sense.\n\n\nIV.--NATURAL LAW ACCORDING TO PAGAN PHILOSOPHERS.\n\nThe nature of a being is that which constitutes its fitness to attain its\nend. The idea, therefore, which a person has of the nature of man, by\nconsequence determines that which he will have of his end, and hence of\nthe rule which should govern his actions.\n\nThe materialists, for example, who deny the immortality of the soul, and\nwhose horizon is bounded by the limits of the present life, are able\nto teach only a purely epicurean or utilitarian morality. They cannot\nconsistently plead a motive higher than an immediate, or at least a\nproximate, well-being; for, what is more uncertain than the duration of\nour life? In the strikingly anti-philosophic language of the XVIIIth\ncentury, _the state of nature_ was a hypothetical state, at once innocent\nand barbarous, anterior to all society. It is to society that this theory\nattributes the disorders of man and the loss of certain primitive and\ninalienable rights which the sect of pseudo-philosophers boasted of\nhaving regained, and by the conquest whereof the corrupted and doting\nFrance of 1789 was prostrated.\n\nThe philosophers of antiquity, on the contrary, notwithstanding their\nnumerous errors, and despite the polytheism which they exteriorly\nprofessed, had arrived at so profound a knowledge of man and his nature\nthat the fathers and doctors of the church have often spoken of the\ndiscoveries of their intellect as a kind of _natural revelation_ made to\nthem by God.[53]\n\nWe have already heard Cicero say that the natural law is eternal, and\nsuperior to all human laws. I shall continue to quote him, because of\nhis clearness, and because he admirably sums up the teaching of the\nphilosophers who preceded him.[54]\n\nThe sound philosophy which should guide us--according to him, the science\nof law--teaches us that it is far more sublime to submit to the divine\nmind, to the all-powerful God, than to the emperors and mighty ones of\nthis earth; for it is a kind of partnership between God and man. Right\nreason (_ratio recta_) is the same for the one and the other; and law\nbeing nothing else than right reason, it may be said that one same law\nlinks us with the gods. Now, the common law is also the common right, and\nwhen people have a common right they belong, in some manner, to the same\ncountry. We must, then, consider this world as a country common to the\ngods and to men. Man is, in truth, like to God. And for what end has God\ncreated and gifted man like to himself? That he may arrive at justice.\n\nHuman society is bound by one same right, and law is the same for all.\nThis law is the just motive (the right reason, _ratio recta_) of all\nprecepts and prohibitions; he who is ignorant of it, whether written\nor not, knows not justice. If uprightness consisted in submission to\nthe written laws and constitutions of nations, and if, as some pretend,\nutility could be the measure of good, he who expected to profit thereby\nwould be justified in neglecting or violating the laws.\n\nThis remark is peculiarly applicable to the present time. It is precisely\nutility and the increase of wealth or of comforts--in a word, material\ninterests--which the greater number of modern legislators have had\nchiefly in view; the result is that society scarcely has the right to\nfeel indignant against those who may deem it to their advantage to\ndisturb it. Religion, say they, has nothing in common with politics; the\nstate, inasmuch as it is a state, need not trouble itself about God; the\nthings of this world should be regulated with regard to this world, and\nwithout reference to the supernatural. Suppose it so; but then, in virtue\nof what authority will you impose your laws? There is no human power\nable to bend or to conquer one human will which does not acknowledge\nit.[55]\n\nThe basis of right is the natural love of our fellow-beings which nature\nhas planted within us. Nature also commands us to honor God. It is not\nfear which renders worship necessary; it is the bond which exists between\nGod and man. If popular or royal decrees could determine right, a whim\nof the multitude might render lawful theft, adultery, or forgery. If it\nbe true that a proclamation dictated by fools can change the order of\nnature, why may not evil become, one day, good? But the sages teach that\nthe human mind did not invent law; it has its birth-place in the bosom\nof God, and is co-eternal with him; it is nothing else than the unerring\nreason of Jupiter himself; it is reflected in the mind of the wise man;\nit can never be repealed.\n\nThis \u201cright reason which comes to us from the gods\u201d (_recta et a numine\ndeorum tracta ratio_) is what is usually termed the _natural_ law; and\nthe beautiful language of Cicero recalls this magnificent verse of the\nIVth Psalm: \u201cQuis ostendit nobis bona? Signatum est super nos lumen\nvultus tui, Domine.\u201d\n\n\nV.--INFLUENCE OF PANTHEISM ON MODERN LAW.\n\nPagan teaching, how elevated soever it may be, is always incomplete; and\nthis is evident even from the words of Cicero.\n\nSince law comes from God, it is very clear that it will be known more\nor less correctly according as our idea of God is more or less correct.\nThis it is that gives so great a superiority, first, to the law of Moses,\nbefore the coming of Jesus Christ, and to all Christian legislation\nsince.\n\nThe Jews had not merely a vague knowledge of the precepts of the divine\nlaw. This law, in its principal provisions, had been directly revealed to\nthem. Christians have something better still, since the Eternal Word was\nmade man, and the Word is precisely \u201cthe true light which enlighteneth\nevery man coming into this world.\u201d[56] The philosophers of antiquity saw\nthis light from afar off; we have _beheld_ that of which they merely\naffirmed the existence; the Jews contemplated it as through a veil, and\nawaited its coming. IT was made flesh; it brought us life; \u201cit shone in\nthe darkness, but the darkness did not comprehend it.\u201d[57]\n\nIt is not the fault of the Word or of his manifestation, says S. Thomas\non this subject, if there are minds who see not this light. There is\nhere, not darkness, but closed eyes.[58]\n\nIt is God himself, therefore, whom man refuses to acknowledge when he\nrejects the fundamental law, which alone deserves the name of law. Human\npride and insolence go beyond forgetfulness or simple negation when they\nhave the audacity to put a human law in the place of and above the divine\nlaw; which last crime is nothing less than the deification of man. This\nphilosophic consequence of the secularization of the law was inevitable,\nand is openly displayed in modern doctrines. Atheists, properly so\ncalled, are rare; but the present generation is infected with Pantheism.\nNow, Pantheism proclaims, without disguise and without shame, the\ndivinity of man.\n\nLet us add that this error is the only foundation upon which man may\nlogically rest to defend modern rights. It produces, with regard to\nconstitutions and laws, two principal effects, which it suffices but to\nindicate, that every honest mind may at once recognize their existence\nand their lamentable consequences.\n\nPantheism, firstly, destroys individualities, or, as the Germans\ncall them, _subjectivities_; it sweeps them away, and causes them to\ndisappear in the Great Whole. Do we not likewise see personality, simple\nor associated--that is to say, individual liberty, associations, and\ncorporations--little by little reduced to annihilation by the modern idea\nof the state? Does not modern theory make also of the state another grand\nwhole, beside which nothing private can exist?\n\nTo reach this result, they represent the state as expressing the\naggregate of all the particular wills, and they seek, in a pretended\n\u201cgeneral will,\u201d the supreme and infallible source of law. But even were\nthis will as general as theory desires, it would not be the less human,\nor, by consequence, the less subject to error. Whence comes it, then,\nthat they make it the sovereign arbiter of good and evil, of truth and\nfalsehood, of justice and injustice? The Pantheists reply that \u201cGod is in\nman and in the world; that he is one and the same thing with the world;\nthat he is identical with the nature of things, and consequently subject\nto change.\u201d The general will, the expression of the universal conscience,\nis then a manifestation of the divine will; and this would allow it to\nchange without ever erring.\n\nThis answers all, in truth; but it may lead us too far. If, as says\nHegel, God is subjective--that is to say, if He is in man, or, more\nexactly still, if He is man himself and the substance of nature--neither\nright, nor law, nor justice could remain objective. In other words, if\nman is God, there is no longer any possible distinction between good and\nevil. And this conclusion has been drawn by the learned German socialist,\nLassalle. He denies the notion of an immutable right; he is unwilling\nthat we should any longer speak of the family, property, justice, etc.,\nin absolute terms. According to him, these are but abstract and unreal\ngeneralities. There have been, on all these subjects, Greek, Roman,\nGerman, etc., ideas; but these are only historical recollections. Ideas\nchange, some even disappear; and if, some day, the universal conscience\nshould decide that the idea of proprietorship has had its day, then\nwould commence a new era in history, during which there could be no\nlonger either property or proprietors without incurring the guilt of\ninjustice.[59] From the stand-point of Pantheism, this reasoning is\nirrefutable; and, on the other hand, we have just seen that Pantheism\nalone could justify the modern theory of the general will, the supreme\narbiter of law.\n\n\nVI.--HAS THE GENERAL WILL RULED SINCE 1789?\n\nI have just quoted a socialist whose works, though little known in\nFrance, are of extreme importance. Ferdinand Lassalle, a Jew by birth,\nby nationality a Prussian, is possessed of extensive knowledge, critical\ngenius of the highest order, and unsparing logic. We have seen him draw\nthe theoretical consequences of Pantheism applied to law; and it will\nnot be without interest to know how he judges the practical results\nof the modern theory of rights, as shown in the French Revolution.\nThe socialists have a special authority for speaking of \u201cimmortal\nprinciples\u201d; for they admit them without hesitation, and their teaching\nproved that they comprehend them wonderfully.\n\nThe _Declaration of the Rights of Man_ is the most authentic summing\nup of these famous principles; and it is therein that the modern\ntheory of law will be found most clearly stated. \u201cLaw,\u201d says Art.\n6, \u201cis the expression of the general will. Every citizen has the\nright of co-operating in its formation, either personally or by his\nrepresentatives.\u201d\n\nIt would seem, from this solemn proclamation, that since then, or at\nleast in the first fervor of this \u201cglorious\u201d revolution, the majority\nof the \u201csovereign people\u201d should have been called to \u201cform the laws.\u201d\nThis has been said; it has even been supported at the mouth of the\ncannon--for, as has been wittily remarked by M. de Maistre, \u201cthe masters\nof these poor people have had recourse even to artillery while deriding\nthem. They said to them: \u2018You think you do not will this law; but, be\nassured, you do will it. If you dare to refuse it, we will pour upon you\na shower of shot, to punish you for not willing what you do will.\u2019 And it\nwas done.\u201d[60]\n\nWhat then took place, and how did it happen that the general will,\nwhich had undertaken to make fundamental and irrevocable laws, should\nhave accepted, in the first five years of its freedom, three different\nconstitutions and a _r\u00e9gime_ like that of the Reign of Terror?\n\nLassalle replies that it is not at all the people who made the\nrevolution, and that the general will was not even asked to manifest\nitself. He recalls the famous pamphlet of Siey\u00e8s, and corrects its\ntitle. It is not true, says he, that the _Tiers \u00c9tat_ was then nothing;\nthe increase of personal property has, since then, brought about a\n_r\u00e9volution \u00e9conomique_, thanks to which the _tiers \u00e9tat_ was, in truth,\nall. But legally it was nothing, which was not much to its liking; for\nthe former ranks of society still existed by right, although their real\nstrength was not in keeping with their legal condition. The work of the\nFrench Revolution was, therefore, to give to the _tiers \u00e9tat_ a legal\nposition suitable to its actual importance.\n\nNow, the _tiers_, first and foremost, assumed itself to be the equivalent\nof the entire people. \u201cIt considered that its cause was the cause\nof humanity.\u201d Thus the attraction was real and powerful. The voices\nraised to protest were unable to make themselves heard. Our author\ncites, on this subject, a curious instance of clear-sightedness. An\nanti-revolutionary journal, _The Friend of the King_, exclaimed, \u201cWho\nshall say whether or not the despotism of the _bourgeoisie_ shall not\nsucceed the pretended aristocracy of the nobility?\u201d\n\nIt is this, indeed, which has come to pass, continues Lassalle; the\n_tiers \u00e9tat_ has become, in its turn, the privileged class. The proof is\nthat the wealth of the citizen became immediately the legal condition of\npower in the state.\n\nSince 1791, in the constitution of Sept. 3 we find (chap. i., sects. 1\nand 2) a distinction established between active citizens and passive\ncitizens. The former are those who pay a certain quota of direct\ncontribution; and they alone possess the right of voting. Moreover,\nall hired laborers were declared not active; and this excluded workmen\nfrom the right of voting. It matters little that the tax was small; the\nprinciple was laid down requiring some amount of fortune in order to\nexercise a political right. \u201cThe wealth of the citizen had become the\ncondition necessary for obtaining power in the state, as nobility or\nlanded property had been in the Middle Ages.\u201d\n\nThe principle of the vote-tax held sway until the recent introduction of\nuniversal suffrage.\n\nOur socialist, proceeding directly to the question of taxes, proves\nthat the _bourgeoisie moderne_, without inventing indirect taxation,\nhas nevertheless made it the basis of an entire system, and has settled\nupon it all the expenses of state. Now, indirect taxes are such as are\nlevied beforehand upon all necessaries, as salt, corn, beer, meat, fuel,\nor, still more, upon what we need for our protection--the expenses of\nthe administration of justice, stamped paper, etc. Generally, in making\na purchase, the buyer pays the tax, without perceiving that it is that\nwhich increases the price. Now, it is clear that because an individual\nis twenty, fifty, or a hundred times richer, it does not follow that he\nwill, on that account, consume twenty, fifty, or a hundred times more\nsalt, bread, meat, etc., than a workman or a person of humble condition.\nThus it happens that the great body of indirect taxes is paid by the\npoorest classes (from the single fact that they are the most numerous).\nThus is it brought about, in a hidden way, that the _tiers \u00e9tat_ pay\nrelatively less taxes than the _quatri\u00e8me \u00e9tat_.\n\nConcerning the instruction of adults, Lassalle says that, instead of\nbeing left to the clergy as heretofore, it now in fact belongs to\nthe daily press. But securities, stamps, and advertisements give to\njournalism another privilege of capital.[61]\n\nThis sketch suffices; and I deem it needless to add that I am far from\nconcluding with the socialists. I am so much the more free to disagree\nwith them as I do not by any means admit the \u201cimmortal principles,\u201d but\nit seems to me to follow evidently from the preceding observations that\nit is not true, in fact, that the general will has made the laws since\n1789.\n\n\nVII.--DOES UNIVERSAL SUFFRAGE EXPRESS THE GENERAL WILL?\n\nHas the introduction of universal suffrage modified, in any great degree,\nthis state of things? Is it any more certain since 1848, than before,\nthat the nation is governed by the general will? We may content ourselves\nhere by appealing to the testimony of honest men. If the general will\nwere truly the master of all the powers in France, our country, which\nto-day, so it is said, has only the government that it desires, would\nbe a model of union and concord; there could be in the opposition party\nonly an exceedingly small minority (otherwise the term general would be\nunjustifiable), and we would follow peacefully the ways most pleasing to\nus.\n\nThis would not be saying--mark it well!--that those ways are good. That\nis another question, to which we will return; but now we are dealing with\nthe question, Are our laws to-day formed or not formed by the general\nwill, according to the formula which I have quoted from the _Declaration\nof the Rights of Man_?\n\nNotwithstanding the evidence for the negative, I think it well here to\nanalyze hastily that which M. Taine has just given in a little pamphlet\ncontaining many truths.[62] M. Taine, being a free-thinker and a man of\nthe times, cannot be suspected of taking an ultramontane or clerical view\nof the case.\n\nM. Taine is far from demanding the abolition of universal suffrage. He\nbelieves it in conformity with justice; for he does not admit that his\nmoney can be demanded or he himself sent to the frontier without his\nown consent, either expressed or tacit. His only wish is that the right\nof suffrage be not illusory, and that the electoral law be adapted \u201cto\nthe French of 1791, to the peasant, the workman, etc.,\u201d be he \u201cstupid,\nignorant, or ill-informed.\u201d From this M. Taine proves at the outset that\nthe ballot-roll is a humbug; and I believe that no person of sense will\ncontest the point. He immediately enters upon a statistical examination\nof the composition of the elective world in France; and he arrives at\nthe following result: \u201cOf twenty voters, ten are peasants, four workmen,\nthree demi-bourgeois, three educated men, comfortable or rich. Now, the\nelectoral law, as all law, should have regard to the majority, to the\nfirst fourteen.\u201d It behooves us, then, to know who these fourteen are\nwho are called to frame the law; that is to say, to decide, by their\nrepresentatives it is true, but sovereignly, on good and evil, justice\nand injustice, and, necessarily, the fate of the country.\n\nM. Taine, in this connection, makes some new calculations which may be\nthus summed up: The rural population embraces seventy out of one hundred\nof the entire population, hence fourteen voters out of twenty. Now, in\nFrance, there are thirty-nine illiterate out of every hundred males,\nalmost all belonging to the classes which M. Taine numbers among the\nrural population; which enables him to find that seven out of every\nfourteen rural voters cannot even read. I may observe, in passing, that\na peasant who cannot read, but who knows his catechism, may be of a much\nsounder morality than M. Taine himself; but I willingly proclaim that the\nseven electors in question could and should have a mediocre political\nintelligence.\n\nThis agreeable writer recounts, in a spicy way, a number of anecdotes\nwhich prove \u201cthe ignorance and credulity\u201d of the rural populations on\nsimilar matters; and he thence concludes that the peasants \u201care still\nsubjects, but under a nameless master.\u201d This is precisely what I said\nat the beginning, not only of peasants, but of all modern people in\ngeneral. Be there a king on the throne or not, somebody decrees this,\nsomebody decrees that; and the subject depends, in a hundred ways, on\nthis abstract and undetermined somebody--\u201cThrough the collector, through\nthe mayor, through the sub-inspector of forests, through the commissary\nof police, through the field-keeper, through the clerks of justice, for\nmaking a door, for felling a tree, building a shed, opening a stall,\ntransporting a cask of wine, etc., etc.\u201d\n\nAll this expresses well and depicts admirably the ways of modern liberty;\nand I cannot refrain from citing this last sketch, equally amusing and\ntrue: \u201cThe mayor knows that in town, in an elegant apartment, is a worthy\ngentleman, attired in broidered gown, who receives him two or three times\na year, speaks to him with authority and condescension, and often puts to\nhim embarrassing questions. But when this gentleman goes away, another\ntakes his place quite similar and in the same garb, and the mayor, on\nhis return home, says with satisfaction: \u2018Monsieur the prefect always\npreserves his good will towards me, although he has been changed many\ntimes.\u2019\u201d\n\nThe _pl\u00e9biscite_, the appeal to the people, the invitation to vote on the\nform of government, addressed to this kind of electors--is it not all\na cunning trick? M. Taine thinks so, and many others with him; but he\nsupposes that this same elector will be, at least, capable of \u201cchoosing\nthe particular man in whom he has most confidence.\u201d It is with him,\nsays he, in the choice of one who shall make the laws, as in the choice\nof the physician or the lawyer whom one may prefer. Although it is not\nmy intention to discuss here the opinions of this author, I beg him to\nremark that his comparison is strikingly faulty; we cannot choose whom\nwe please for our physician or for our lawyer. The former is obliged to\ngo through a course of studies in order to merit his diploma; the latter\nmust fulfil the conditions necessary to be admitted to the bar. To frame\nthe laws is another thing; not the slightest preparation is exacted from\nthose eligible to this duty. Apparently it is not considered worth the\ntrouble.\n\nThe ballot-roll and _pl\u00e9biscite_ being disposed of, M. Taine returns\nto figures, to study what transpires when the electors are called upon\nto choose a deputy by district. This gives, says he, one deputy for\ntwenty thousand voters spread over a surface of one thousand kilometres\nsquare, etc. Of the twenty thousand voters, how many will have a definite\nopinion of the candidate presented to them? Scarcely one in ten beyond\nthe outskirts of the town; scarcely one in four or five in the whole\ndistrict. There remains the resource of advice; but \u201cthe spirit of\nequality is all-powerful, and the hierarchy is wanting.\u201d\n\nWe touch here the most sorrowful wound of our social state; and this term\neven, is it not misapplied?--for we have no longer any order, or, by\nconsequence, any social state. \u201cAs a general rule,\u201d continues M. Taine,\n\u201cthe country people receive counsel only from their equals.\u201d Therefore\nit is easy to employ evil means. These evil means may be summed up,\naccording to the same author, in the abuse of governmental influence,\nand in a corruption whose form varies, but which makes the affair of an\nelection an affair of money.\n\nThere should be, and I have alluded to it in passing, many exceptions\nmade with regard to what M. Taine says concerning the rural population.\nHe believes them manifestly less able to vote than the city populations,\nwhile I am of quite the contrary opinion; but it still remains true that\ndirect universal suffrage, such as we have, does not allow a person\nto choose from a knowledge of the case, and that, in reality, the\ngeneral will has not, up to the present day, been able to find its true\nexpression.\n\nThis is all that I need prove for the present.\n\n\nVIII.--IS THE GENERAL WILL COMPETENT TO MAKE LAWS?\n\nThis is a still higher question, and one which we must now approach.\nAdmitting that the general will could make itself known, is it an\nauthority competent to make laws?\n\nBut before starting let us lay down a first principle which, quite\nelementary as it is, seems to be as much forgotten as the others: if\nthe natural law exist not anteriorly to enjoin respect for human laws,\nhuman power would have no other ground of existence, no other support\nthan force. Without a divine lawgiver, there is, in truth, no moral\nobligation.[63] The hypothesis of a previous agreement among the members\nof society would not resolve the difficulty; for an agreement would not\nbe able to bind any one, at least if there were no higher authority to\nsecure it.[64]\n\nWhatever may be the immediate origin of law--be it promulgated by\na sovereign, enacted by an assembly, or directly willed by the\nmultitude--it would still be unable to rule, if we do not suppose a\nlaw anterior and, as Cicero says, eternal, which, in the first place,\nprescribes obedience to subjects, and, in the second, fidelity to\nreciprocal engagements, promises, and oaths. This superior law being the\nnatural law, it is always, and in every case, impossible to suppress or\nto elude it.\n\nMeanwhile, what is understood by the general will? Is it the unanimity\nof wills? No one, so far as I know, has ever exacted this condition.\nThe question is, then, taking things at their best, of the will of the\nmajority. People grant this, and often give to our modern governments\nthe name of governments of the majority. They deduce then from this\nprinciple, that in a population of thirty millions of men, for example,\nit is lawful that the will of the twenty millions should rule over that\nof the remaining ten millions. If the constitution of a kingdom, says\nBurke, is an arithmetical problem, the calculation is just; but if the\nminority refuse to submit, the majority will be able to govern only by\nthe aid of _la lanterne_.[65]\n\nScaffolds, shootings, exile, prison--such are, in truth, the institutions\nwhich have chiefly flourished since the famous _Declaration of the Rights\nof Man_.\n\nIn the eyes of a man who knows how to reason, continues the English\norator, this opinion is ridiculous.\n\nIt could not be justified, unless it were well proved that the majority\nof men are enlightened, virtuous, wise, self-sacrificing, and incapable\nof preferring their own interest to that of others. No one has ever dared\nto say that legislators should make laws for the sake of making them, and\nwithout troubling themselves concerning the welfare of those for whom the\nlaws are made. Now, the laws being made for all, the majority, if it had\nthe qualities necessary for legislating, should concern itself still more\nabout the minority than about itself.\n\nThe Comte de la Marck[66] relates that when Mirabeau became too much\nexcited concerning the rights and privileges of man, it happened\nsometimes that he amused himself by curtailing his accounts. He cut off\nfirst women, children, the ignorant, the vicious, etc. Once, the nation\nbeing thus reduced to the little portion whose moral qualities it became\nnecessary to estimate, \u201cI began,\u201d says he, \u201cto deduct those who lack\nreason, those who have false notions, those who value their own interests\nabove everything, those who lack education and knowledge matured by\nreflection; and I then asked him if the men who merit to be spoken of\nwith dignity and respect would not find themselves reduced to a number\ninfinitely small. Now, according to my principle, I maintained that the\ngovernment should act _for_ the people, and not _by_ them--that is to\nsay, not by the opinion of the multitude; and I proved, by historical\nextracts and by examples which we had unfortunately under our eyes, that\nreason and good sense fly from men in proportion as they are gathered\ntogether in greater numbers.\u201d\n\nMirabeau contented himself with replying that one must flatter the people\nin order to govern them, which amounts to saying that one must cheat them.\n\nFor the rest, this same Mirabeau acknowledged that equality, in the\nrevolutionary sense, is absurd, and the passion which some have for it\nhe called a violent paroxysm. It is he who best characterized the true\nresult of the destruction of all social order. He called it \u201cvanity\u2019s\nupsetting.\u201d He could not have spoken better; and the vanity which\ngoes so low could have no other result than that which we behold--the\npremeditated absence or suppression of all true superiority.\n\nThis episode on equality is not a digression, for the system of\nmajorities supposes it. Now, it is absolutely anti-natural. According to\nthe beautiful idea of Aristotle:[67] there is in man himself a soul and\na body; the one predominating and made to command, the other to obey; the\nequality or the shifting of power between these two elements would be\nequally fatal to them. It is the same between man and the other animals,\nbetween tame animals and wild. The harmony of sex is analogous, and we\neven find some traces of this principle in inanimate objects; as, for\nexample, in the harmony of sounds. Therefore S. Augustine defines order\nthus: \u201cSuch a disposition of things similar and dissimilar as shall give\nto each what is proper to it\u201d--_Ordo est parium dispariumque rerum sua\ncuique tribuens dispositio_;[68] and S. Thomas hence concludes that order\nsupposes inequality: _Nomen ordinis in\u00e6qualitatem importat_.[69]\n\nBut the \u201cimmortal principles\u201d have changed all that, according to\nSganarelle; so their work, in its final analysis, results in a disorder\nwithout name.\n\nThe external disorder is visible and pretty generally acknowledged; but\nthe moral disorder passes unperceived. By means of equality on the one\nhand, and of the secularization of the law on the other, they arrive at\nthis frightful result: for example, that regicide and parricide are, in\njustice, but ordinary crimes; if, moreover, regicide profits the people,\nit is worthy of eulogy. Sacrilege is nothing more than a superstitious\nfiction. In fine, _respect_ being no longer possible nor even reasonable,\naccording to the prediction of Burke,[70] \u201cthe laws have no other\nguardian than terror, \u2026 and in perspective, from our point of view, we\nsee but scaffolds,\u201d or courts-martial, which amount to the same thing.\n\n\nIX.--CONSEQUENCES OF THE SECULARIZATION OF LAW.\n\nHow often do we not hear it said that almost all our misfortunes, and,\nabove all, our inability to repair our losses, come from the little\nrespect we have for the law! This statement, which has become almost\ntrite, indicates most frequently a strange wandering. After having\ndestroyed respect for persons, is it not absurd to claim it for their\nworks? But they have done more: they have denied the mission of a\nlegislator. The secularization of the law--that is to say, the denial of\na divine sanction applied to law--has no other meaning. Legislators being\nno longer the mandataries of God, or not wishing to be such, now speak\nonly in virtue of their own lights, and have no real commission. By what\ntitle, then, would you have us respect them? Every one is at liberty to\nprefer his own lights and to believe that he would have done better.\n\nI hear the reply: \u201cIt is to the interest of all that order should reign,\nwere it but materially, and the law is the principal means of maintaining\norder.\u201d You may hence conclude that it would be more advantageous to see\nthe laws obeyed; but a motive of interest is not a motive of respect, and\nthere is a certain class of individuals who may gain by the disorder. No,\nyou will have the right to claim respect for the law only when you shall\nhave rendered the law truly respectable; and to do this you must prove\nthat you have the mission to make the law, even were you the _\u00e9lite_ of\nour statesmen and doctors of the law, and much more if you are but a\ncollection of the most uncultivated tax-payers in the world.\n\nKnowledge is something; it is something also to represent real and\nconsiderable interests; and I do not deny the relative importance of\nthe elements of which legislative bodies are composed. But nothing of\nall this can supply the place of a commission; and you will have that\nonly when you shall have consented, as legislators, to acknowledge the\nexistence of God, to submit yourselves to his laws, and to conform your\nown thereto.\n\nPeople have but a very inadequate idea of the disastrous consequences\nwhich, one day or other, may ensue from the secularization of law. Until\nnow the only danger of which they have dreamed is that with which extreme\nrevolution menaces us.\n\nThis is a danger so imminent, so undisguised, that every one sees it; and\nsome have ended by understanding that without a return to God society is\ndestined to fall. Nay, more, the Assembly now sitting at Versailles has\nmade an act of faith by ordering public prayers; and this first step has\ncaused hope to revive in the hearts of men of good-will. But it is not,\nperhaps, inopportune to draw the attention of serious men to another\nphase of the question.\n\nWhat would happen if modern law should go so far as to enjoin a crime\nupon Christians? The hypothesis is not purely imaginary; and although,\nhappily, thanks to Heaven, it has not yet come to pass, there is a whole\nparty which threatens to reach this extreme. In other countries there has\nbeen something like a beginning of its realization. I would like to speak\nof the school law and the avowed project of imposing a compulsory and lay\neducation. We know what is meant by _lay_ in such a case; and experience\nproves that the state schools are often entrusted to men whose avowed\nintention is to bring up the children in infidelity. What would happen if\nsuch a law were passed, which supposes that everywhere, at the same time,\nparents would be compelled to put their children in imminent danger of\nlosing their faith? The Catholic Church is very explicit in her doctrine\non the obligation of obeying even a bad government; she orders that\nuseless, unjust, and even culpable laws be borne with, so long as this\ncan be done without exposing one\u2019s self to commit a sin. Neither plunder\nnor the danger of death excuses revolt in her eyes. But in this case do\nwe understand to what we would be reduced? To resist passively, and to\nallow one\u2019s self to be punished by fines, by prison, by torture, or by\ndeath, would not remedy the evil; the soul of the child remains without\ndefence, and the father is responsible for it. This kind of persecution\nis, then, more serious in its consequences, and may lead to deeper\ntroubles, than even the direct persecution, which might consist, for\nexample, in exacting apostasy from adults. In this last case the martyr\nbears all, and the first Christians have shown us the way; but here the\ntorments of the parents cannot save the children, and the parents cannot\nabandon them; whatever becomes of the body, the soul must be guarded\nuntil death.\n\nIt belongs not to me to decide; for in this case, as in all those of a\nsimilar kind, the line of conduct to be followed ought to be traced by\nthe only competent authority; but the problem is worth proposing, and by\nit alone it is already easy to throw great light on the abysses to which\nthe atheism of the law is leading the people by rapid strides.\n\n\nX.--CHRISTIAN DEFINITION OF NATURAL LAW.\n\nIt remains to explain in a few words the great principles which should\nform the basis of law, and which were never completely ignored until\nthese days of aberration and wretchedness. I could not expect to give\nhere, in these few pages, a course of natural law, nor even to trace its\noutline; but there are some perfectly incontestable truths which it is\nvery necessary to recall since people have forgotten them. When one has\nno personal authority, he feels a certain timidity in broaching so grave\na subject, and in speaking of it as if he aspired to enlighten his kind;\nand meanwhile error is insinuated, preached, disseminated, commanded,\nwith a skill so infernal and a success so great that ignorance of truth\nis almost unbounded. Of such elementary rules we often find influential\npersons, and sometimes persons of real merit, totally ignorant. In other\ndays they would have known them on leaving school, or even from their\ncatechism.\n\nLet us go back, then, to the definition of the word nature, and it will\nserve as a starting-point from which to treat of what the laws destined\nto govern man should be.\n\nThe nature of a being is that which renders it capable of attaining its\nend. This is true of a plant or an animal as well as of man; but there\nare two kinds of ends subordinate one to the other. The end for which God\ncreated the world could be no other than God himself.[71] The Creator\ncould only propose to himself an end worthy of himself, and, he alone\nbeing perfect, he could not find outside himself an end proportioned to\nhis greatness. God is, then, the last end of all creatures. But there\nare particular ends; and it is in their subordination that the order of\nthe world consists. The primary ends are, in a certain sense, but a means\nfor arriving at the last end.\n\nBut God being unable to add anything to his infinite perfection, the end\nwhich he proposed to himself could not be to render himself more perfect;\nhence he could seek only an exterior glory, which consists in manifesting\nhimself to his creatures. For this it was necessary that some of these\ncreatures should be capable of knowing him. These reasonable creatures\nare superior to the others and are their primary end; therefore it is\nthat theologians call man a microcosm, a compendium of the universe, and\nking of the world.\n\nMan is placed in creation to admire it, and by means of it to render\nhomage to God; for, in his quality of a creature gifted with reason,\nhe knows his end, which is God, and the essential characteristic of\nhis nature is the ability to attain this end. He is, moreover, endowed\nwith an admirable prerogative--liberty, or free-will; that is to say,\nhe is called on to will this end; and God, in his infinite bounty, will\nrecompense him for having willed his own good. But man has need of an\neffort to will good; for his primitive nature has been corrupted by the\noriginal fall. He has, therefore, an inclination to evil, against which\nhe must incessantly struggle; and the greatest number of political and\nsocial errors have their source in ignorance or forgetfulness of this\nperversion of human nature.\n\nThis granted, the natural law comprises the obligations imposed on man in\norder that he may reach his end, together with the prohibition of all\nthat could turn him away from it. This law obliges all men, even those\nwho have no knowledge of the positive divine law--that is to say, the\nrevealed law.\n\nBehold how Gerson has defined it:\n\n\u201cThe natural law is a sign imprinted upon the heart of every man enjoying\nthe right use of reason, and which makes known to him the divine will, in\nvirtue of which the human creature is required to do certain things and\nto avoid certain others, in order to reach his end.\u201d Among the precepts\nwhich God has engraved upon the hearts of all men is found, in the first\nrank, that which obliges them to refer themselves to God as to their last\nend.\n\nFrom this it follows that every law which tends to hinder or prevent the\nprogress of men toward God is a law against nature, and consequently null\n(_lex injusta non est lex_); for no human law can change or abrogate the\nnatural law.\n\n\nXI.--CONTINUATION: THE END OF SOCIETY ACCORDING TO THE NATURAL LAW.\n\nThe considerations of the preceding chapter have reference to man\nconsidered abstractly from society. But man cannot exist alone. For life\nand subsistence, during his early childhood, he has need of his kind; so\nthat, from the first moment of his existence, he forms part of a domestic\nsociety--the family.\n\nThe family being certainly of divine institution, and the duties which\nit imposes being of the number of those which the natural law commands,\nwe find therein the first elements of all society: authority, hierarchy,\nconsequently inequality, mutual love, and protection--in a word, varied\nand reciprocal duties. But the family suffices not for man\u2019s social\ncravings. Man naturally longs after his like; he possesses the marvellous\ngift of speech for communication with his fellows; he bears engraven on\nhis heart the first precept of his duty towards them: \u201cDo unto others\nthat which you would have others do unto you; and do not unto them that\nwhich you would not that they do to you.\u201d The existence of society is,\ntherefore, still a law of nature.\n\nOnce formed, society itself has its duties; it has its proper end, which\nnot only should not be opposed to the end of man considered singly, but\nshould moreover contribute to facilitate the attainment of that end. The\nend of man being God, and this end being attainable only by virtue, the\nprincipal end of society will necessarily be to aid men in the practice\nof virtue; and, that I may not be accused of depending exclusively on\ntheology, I will adduce what Aristotle has said on this subject: \u201cThe\nmost perfect state is evidently that in which each citizen, whoever he\nmay be, may, by favor of the laws, best practise virtue and be most\nsecure of happiness.\u201d[72] And what is happiness, according to Aristotle?\n\u201cWe consider it a point perfectly established that happiness is always\nin proportion to wisdom; \u2026 [for] the soul, speaking absolutely and even\nrelatively to us, is more precious than wealth and the body.\u2026 Following\nthe laws of nature, all exterior goods are desirable only insomuch as\nthey serve the soul, and wise men should not desire them except for this\nend; whereas the soul should never be placed in comparison with them.\u201d[73]\n\nWe are assuredly far off from this pagan, and he goes still further\neven than the foregoing; for he lays down as incontestable a principle\nwhich is the formal condemnation of the secularization of the law. \u201cThe\nelements of happiness,\u201d says he, \u201care the same for the individual and\nfor the city.\u201d[74] We have just seen what he understands by happiness;\nbut he adds, in order that he may be the better comprehended, that if\nthe felicity of the individual consisted in wealth, it would be the same\nfor the city. According to Aristotle, therefore, the moral law obliges\nsociety as it does the individual. Now, it is precisely this which the\npartisans of atheistical or merely secular law deny.\n\n\nXII.--CHRISTIAN LAW.\n\nI have designedly quoted the ancient philosophers, because certain\ndiseased minds who shrink from the authority of the sacred books accept\nmore willingly that of the learned; but I believe that from what precedes\none could easily infer the true rule of the relations between church and\nstate. I will not undertake it now; nevertheless, as I address myself,\nby preference, to those who profess the same faith as myself, I will\ntake the liberty to point out to them some inevitable corollaries of the\nprinciples I have just recalled.\n\nThe natural law, properly so called, has been confirmed and completed\nby revelation. Although the precepts whose observance is indispensable\nto man to reach his end are engraven in the depths of his heart, the\nblindness and the evil propensities which are the consequences of his\nfall render him but too forgetful of his duties. Besides, God, having\nresolved to save man, chose to himself a privileged people, that from it\nhe might cause the Messias to be born; and for the accomplishment of his\nmerciful designs he guided this people and made it the guardian of his\nlaw, even to the day on which the promises were fulfilled.\n\nTo this end God charged Moses with the promulgation of a positive\ndivine law which contained moral precepts--precepts relating to the\nceremonies of the ancient worship--and political precepts; that is to\nsay, precepts relating to the civil government of the Jewish people. The\nlast two classes of precepts no longer oblige; but those which concern\nmorals--that is to say, those of the Decalogue--retain all their force,\nbecause they are the precepts of the natural law.\n\nBut it is no longer by virtue of the promulgation of Moses that we are\nbound by the moral obligations contained in the old law. He who is our\nJudge, our Legislator, our King,[75] has come himself to give us a more\nperfect law: \u201cMandatum novum do vobis\u201d (Joan. 13). According to the\nexpression of Suarez, Jesus Christ has made known more perfectly the\nnatural law in completing it by new precepts. Jesus Christ has done\nstill more: he has founded a new kingdom--the church, the mystical body,\nof which he is the head. He has, therefore, appointed interpreters and\nguardians of his law, who have the mission to proclaim it to those who\nknow it not; to pardon in his name those who, having violated it, confess\nand repent; and, finally, to distribute the numberless succors of divine\ngrace--all which have for their object to help us to observe the law\nas perfectly as possible, and consequently to enable us ourselves to\napproach perfection. The new precepts added by Christ to those of the\nnatural law are those which enjoin upon us the use of the sacraments and\nwhich determine their form; these articles of the new law--if we may be\nallowed so to term them--are all as obligatory as those of the natural\nlaw, because they have God himself for their author. Behold how S. Thomas\nsums up the whole of the new law, or the law of grace, which Christ came\nto bring us: \u201cIt comprises,\u201d says he, \u201cthe precepts of the natural law,\nthe articles of faith, and the sacraments of grace.\u201d\n\nOne of the most remarkable characteristics of the Christian law is that\nit was not written. Jesus Christ _spoke_ his commandments, and, _his\nword being divine_, it engraved them upon the hearts of his apostles and\ndisciples;[76] but the Incarnate Word had nothing written during the\ntime he spent upon earth. The first Gospel appeared at least eight years\nafter the death of Jesus Christ. If to this observation we add the common\nbelief of theologians, according to which it was only from the coming of\nthe Holy Ghost--that is to say, from the day of Pentecost and after the\nAscension--that the law of Christ became obligatory, we arrive at this\nconclusion: that the means of oral teaching was expressly chosen by the\nWord for the transmission of his law and his will.\n\nNothing throws greater light upon the sovereign importance of the church\nand its hierarchy; nothing manifests better the extreme necessity of\na permanent infallibility residing somewhere in the mystical body of\nChrist. The Council of the Vatican, conformably to the tradition of\nall Christian ages, has _defined_ that \u201cthe Roman Pontiff enjoys the\nplenitude of that infallibility with which it was necessary for the\nchurch to be provided in defining doctrine touching faith or morals.\u201d\n\nThese last words show that the Pope is the unfailing interpreter of\nthe natural law, and the judge, from whom there is no appeal of its\nviolations.\n\nThe decisions given by the Sovereign Pontiff upon human laws are not\nrecognized at the present day by the powers of the earth. But neither\nis God recognized; and thus it is that, little by little violence has\noverrun the world and law has vanished. Europe is returning to a worse\nthan primitive barbarism; and Catholics are no longer alone in saying it.\n\nAt the epoch at which the bishops were gathered together at Rome for the\nlast council, a publicist of great merit, an Englishman and a Protestant,\nspeaking in the name of his co-religionists, addressed an appeal to the\nPope entreating him to labor for the re-establishment of the rights of\nthe people.\n\nThe rights of the people, or the law of nature, said Mr. Urquhart,\nis the Ten Commandments applied to society. After having cited Lord\nMansfield, who says that this right \u201cis considered to form part of the\nEnglish law,\u201d and that \u201c_the acts_ of the government cannot alter it,\u201d\nMr. Urquhart fears not to add \u201cthat it is against their governments that\nnations should protect this right.\u201d And why did this Protestant appeal\nto Rome? Because, in sight of the unjust wars which ravage Europe, he\nhoped that the Ecumenical Council \u201cwould lay down a rule enabling\nCatholics to distinguish the just from the unjust; so that the Pope might\nafterwards exercise juridical power over communities, nations, and their\nsovereigns.\u201d[77]\n\nThe rule exists; for the natural or divine law engraven by God from the\nbeginning upon the hearts of all men, and more expressly revealed in the\nDecalogue, was the subject of the teaching of Christ. The juridical power\nand the tribunal from which there is no appeal equally exist; but the\nvoice of the judge is no longer listened to by those who govern human\nsociety. But it is not this which is important, and Mr. Urquhart is\nright--it is the nations which should invoke against their new tyrants\nthe only efficacious protection; it is the people who should first bend\nbefore the beneficent authority of the infallible master of the moral\nlaw; there would then be no further need of the consent of governments.\n\n\nXIII.--CONCLUSION.\n\nI said, in beginning the last paragraph, that it was addressed to\nCatholics by right of corollary from the preceding considerations. It is\ncertain, indeed, that if all Catholics were truly instructed and well\nconvinced of the truths that I have endeavored to set forth as briefly\nand clearly as I could, a great step in the right path would already have\nbeen taken.\n\nBut there is a much-used, widely-spread, and very convenient objection\nwhich many excellent men fail not to proffer in such a case. \u201cIt is\ntrue,\u201d say they, \u201cthat if human discussions and quarrels could be\nreferred to the highest moral authority on earth, it would afford great\nadvantages; but this is not _practicable_. Times have changed, and it is\nimpossible to hope that this authority can ever recover the influence it\nwould require in order to act efficaciously.\u201d\n\nIf good men adhere to the fatal habit they have acquired of renouncing\nbeforehand all effort, for fear it will not be successful, nothing can\nbe done; and there remains to us nothing but to veil our faces while\nawaiting the destruction of our country and of all organized society. But\neven were we reduced to despair, we never have the right of renouncing\nour convictions nor of ceasing to act personally according to the\nprescriptions of our faith. Before concerning ourselves about the doings\nof others, and without needing to count on success, we must begin by\nconforming ourselves to the teachings of truth, which is by its nature\nunchangeable; for there is no progress or civilization which can alter\none iota of the divine laws.\n\nMoreover, he is very bold who would dare to predict what Europe will or\nwill not be several years hence. Either it is condemned--and then, for\nhis own peace of mind, a man should allow himself to be guided by his\nconscience with the full certainty of not doing wrong--or God wills to\nsave Europe still another time; and this can never be, save by truth.\n\nWith regard to practical means, of which they make so much at the present\nday, I see no one who proposes them inspiring any confidence. Every one\nhesitates, gropes, and most often acknowledges that he can only invent.\nThe present hour is favorable to good, in this sense: that the greater\nnumber of _practical_ errors no longer exercise the same seduction as at\nthe beginning of the century.\n\nEvil presses us on all sides, and, according to the expression of one\nof our most distinguished publicists, \u201c1789 has failed.\u201d[78] After 1789\nthere is no middle way between social war and the return to good. We meet\nat every step upright minds who break their idols; there are too many who\nknow not yet with what to replace them, but it is still much to have seen\none\u2019s error.\n\nFurthermore, there are untiring seekers, some of whom have found the\nwhole truth, and others who find but the fragments; all help to prepare\nthe way for the reconstruction of the social edifice. He to whom I have\ndedicated this work[79] will pardon me, I hope, if I quote from him. I\ndo not believe that there is another example of an equal influence so\nrapidly exercised by a book so serious, so grave in matter, so little\nattractive to the frivolous reader, as that which he has written upon\n_Social Reform_. To rediscover social truth by the method of observation\nand analysis was already a phenomenon which I consider unique of its\nkind; to cause it to be adopted by so great a number of minds biassed\nand filled with hostile prejudices, and most frequently badly prepared\nby their previous studies, is a fact still more astonishing. Thus, as I\nsaid in my dedicatory epistle, it is impossible for me not to see herein\none of the most consoling signs of our age. The scientific processes of\nM. Le Play were, perhaps, the only ones which would find favor with a\ngeneration so dialectical and so enamored with the exact sciences as ours.\n\nNotwithstanding the sorrows which oppress us, we must not despair; and,\nabove all, we must not trouble ourselves too much concerning the errors\nof what people agree to call public opinion.\n\nThe errors regarding the general will reproduce themselves, under another\nform, in the uneasiness which this self-styled queen of the world instils\ninto the minds of men of good-will. If we consider closely what the\nelements of opinion are, we very quickly perceive that, in general, it\nmerits the name of public only because it proclaims itself very loudly\nand makes itself known in all the public squares. In reality, a party\nmuch less considerable than we suppose announces to the world, and\nimagines, most frequently in good faith, that it alone is enlightened.\nIts boldness inspires awe, and by degrees those who compose it succeed\nin persuading the multitude, and in persuading themselves that they\nrepresent the only _opinion_ worthy of note. And who are these?\nFinanciers and journalists who carry on business in common; loud-voiced\nlawyers; professors much tainted themselves; officers occupying\na position, and others wishing to obtain one from them; the idle\npleasure-seeking men and women. Is it, then, true that these represent\nthe nation?\n\nEager for their own interest or for that of others, these pretended\nechoes of public opinion are wont to say \u201cThe people believe, the people\nwish, the people will never consent, it does not suit the people, etc.\nWhat a pity! The people are nothing in revolutions in which they are\nbut passive instruments. France no longer ardently desires anything\nexcept repose. At first sight this proposition would seem true--the\nprevious consent of the French is necessary for the re-establishment\nof the monarchy. Nothing is more false. The multitude never obtains\nwhat it wills; it always accepts, it never chooses. We may even notice\nan _affectation_ of Providence (if I may be allowed the expression),\ninasmuch as the efforts of the people to attain an object are the very\nmeans which it makes use of to withdraw them from it.\n\n\u201cIn the French Revolution the people were constantly chained, outraged,\nruined, torn by factions; and the factions, in their turn, the sport of\none another, constantly drifted (notwithstanding all their efforts), only\nto be dashed against the rock which awaited them.\u2026 In the establishment\nand the overthrow of sovereignties \u2026 the mass of the people enter only as\nthe wood and the cord employed by a machinist. Their chiefs even are such\nonly to strangers; in reality, they are led as they lead the people. When\nthe proper moment shall arrive, the Supreme Ruler of empires will chase\naway these noisy insects. Then we shall be astonished at the profound\nnothingness of these men.\n\n\u201cDo people imagine that the political world goes on by chance, and\nthat it is not organized, directed, animated, by the same wisdom which\nshines in the physical world? Great malefactors who overthrow the state\nnecessarily produce melancholy, internal dismemberments \u2026 but when man\nlabors to re-establish order, he associates himself with the Author of\norder, he is favored by nature--that is to say, by the aggregate of\nsecondary causes which are the instruments of the Divinity. His action\nhas something divine; it is at once gentle and powerful; it forces\nnothing and nothing resists it.\u201d[80]\n\nThese beautiful words are as true to-day as in 1797.\n\n\nDURATION.\n\nII\n\nAll change implies succession. Hence the duration of contingent beings,\ninasmuch as they are subject to actual change, involves succession. The\nduration of the changes brought about by purely spiritual operations\ntranscends our experience; for we are not pure spirits. Hence we have\nno means of measuring such changes by their intrinsic measure. But the\nduration of the changes which occur in the material world through local\nmovements lies within the range of our apprehensive faculty, and can be\nmeasured by us; for we find in nature many movements which, by their\nconstant recurrence and their uniformity, are calculated to serve as\nterms of comparison for measuring the length of successive duration.\n\n_Definitions of time._--The duration of local movement, which we measure\nby a given standard, is called \u201ctime.\u201d And therefore time may be properly\nand adequately defined as the duration of local movement: _Duratio\nmotus_. From this definition it immediately follows that where there is\nno movement there can be no time. Accordingly, there was no time before\ncreation, as there was no movement. It follows also that the duration of\ncreated things, inasmuch as it expresses the permanence of those things\nin their own being, is not time; for it is of the essence of time to be\nsuccessive, and there is no succession where there is no change, and\nno change without movement. Hence, when we say that contingent beings\nexist in time, we do not refer to their essence or substance as such,\nbut to their successive modes of being, by which their duration acquires\nits accidental successivity. Were the whole world reduced to perfect\nstillness by impeding or suspending the actions and movements of all\ncreatures, time would at the same instant cease to flow; for time is not\nthe duration of things, but the duration of movement.\n\nTime may be considered either as a _relation_ or as a _quantity_.\nIn fact, intervals of successive duration are, like distances, real\nrelations; but when we think of the greater or less extent of space\nwhich can be measured with a given velocity between two correlated terms\nof time, these same intervals exhibit themselves under the form of\ncontinuous quantities.\n\nTime, as a relation, is defined by S. Thomas and by all the ancients\nas _Ratio prioris et posterioris motus_--that is, as the link between\nthe \u201cbefore\u201d and the \u201cafter\u201d of any movement; and, as a quantity, it\nis defined as _Numerus motus_--that is, as a number arising from the\nmensuration of the movement. This movement is always local, as we have\nalready intimated; for we cannot measure successive duration by any other\nkind of movement. Hence it is that the duration which is predicated of\nspiritual substances and of their operations differs in kind from our\ntime. For, since such substances are not subjected to local movements,\ntheir duration cannot be measured in terms of space and velocity, as our\ntime, but only in terms of intellectual movements, which have nothing\ncommon with the periodical revolutions from which we desume the measure\nof our days, years, and centuries. When we say that angels have existed\nfor centuries, we measure the duration of their existence by a measure\nwhich is altogether extrinsic to them; and in the same manner we measure\nthe duration of our own intellectual operations by a measure extrinsic\nto them--that is, by comparing it with the duration of some movement\noccurring in our bodies or in the surrounding world.\n\nSince time is the duration of movement, it is plain that when we perceive\nmovement we immediately perceive time; and since movement implies a\ncontinuous change, it is plain also that the greater the number of\nchanges we can distinctly perceive in a given succession, the better\nwe realize the flowing of time. It is for this reason that time seems\nlonger in sickness or in a sleepless night than in good health and\nin a pleasurable occupation; for gladness and amusement distract our\nminds, and do not allow us to reflect enough on what is going on around\nus; whilst anything which affects us painfully calls our attention to\nourselves and to our sensations, and thus causes us to reflect on a\ngreat number of movements to which in other circumstances we would pay\nno attention at all. It is for this reason, also, that when we are fast\nasleep we have no perception of the flowing of time. The moment one falls\nasleep he ceases to perceive the succession of changes, both interior\nand exterior, from the consideration of which time should be estimated;\nhence, when he awakes, he instinctively unites the present _now_ with\nthat in which he fell asleep, as if there had been no intermediate time.\nThus, in the same manner as there is no time without movement, there is\nno actual perception of time without the actual perception of movement.\n\n_Measure of time._--We have said that time, as a quantity, is measured\nby movement. The sense of this proposition is that a body moving with\nuniform velocity describes spaces proportional to the times employed;\nand therefore, if we assume as a unit of measure the time employed in\ndescribing a certain unit of space with a given velocity, the duration\nof the movement will contain as many units of time as there are units of\nspace measured by that velocity. Thus, if the revolution of the earth\naround its axis is taken as the unit of movement, and its duration, or\nthe day, as the unit of time, the number of days will increase at the\nsame rate as the number of revolutions. Speaking in general, if the time\nemployed in describing uniformly a space _v_ be taken as a unit of time,\nand _t_ be the time employed in describing uniformly a space _s_ with the\nsame constant velocity, we have the proportion--\n\n    _s_:_v_::_t_:1.\n\nThe unit of time is necessarily arbitrary or conventional. For there is\nno natural unit of measure in continuous quantities whose divisibility\nhas no end, as we have explained in a preceding article.\n\nThe space _v_ uniformly described in the unit of time represents the\nvelocity of the movement; and therefore the duration of the movement\ncomprises as many units of time as there are units in the ratio of the\nspace to the constant velocity with which it is measured. In other\nterms, time is the ratio of the space described to the velocity with\nwhich it is described.\n\nWe often hear it said that as time is measured by movement, so also\nmovement is measured by time. But this needs explanation. When we say\nthat time is measured by movement, we mean that time is represented by\nthe ratio of the space to the velocity with which it is described, or\nby the ratio of the material extension to the formal extending of the\nmovement; for the proportion above deduced gives\n\n    _t_ = _s_/_v_,\n\nwhere _s_ represents the length of the movement in space (which length\nis its material constituent) and _v_ represents its intensity (which is\nits formal constituent). On the other hand, when we say that movement\nis measured by time, we either mean that the ratio of the space to the\nvelocity is represented by the time employed in the movement, and thus\nwe merely interchange the members of our equation, by which no new\nconclusion can be reached; or we mean that the length and the velocity of\nthe movement are measured by time. But this cannot be; for our equation\ngives for the length of the movement\n\n    _s_ = _vt_;\n\nand this shows that time alone cannot measure the length of the space\ndescribed. On the other hand, the same equation gives for the velocity\n\n    _v_ = _s_/_t_;\n\nand this shows that time is not the measure of velocity, as the one\ndiminishes when the other increases.\n\nThis suffices to show that the phrase \u201cmovement is measured by time\u201d\nmust be interpreted in a very limited sense, as simply meaning that\nbetween movement and time there is a necessary connection, and that, all\nother things remaining equal, the length of the movement is proportional\nto the length of the time employed. Yet this does not mean that the\nlength of the movement depends entirely on the time employed, for the\nsame length may be described in different times; but it means that the\ntime employed depends on the material and formal extent of the movement,\nas above explained; for, according as we take different velocities,\ndifferent lengths will be described in equal time, and equal lengths in\ndifferent times. It is not the time that extends the movement, but it is\nthe movement that by its extension extends its own time.\n\nThe true measure of movement is its velocity; for the measure of any\ngiven quantity is a unit of the same kind, and velocity is the unit of\nmovement. Time, as measured by us, is a number which arises from the\nmensuration of the movement by its velocity; and therefore time results\nfrom the movement as already measured. This shows again that time is not\nthe measure of the _extent_ of the movement. We have seen, also, that\ntime is not the measure of the _intensity_ of the movement. It follows,\ntherefore, that the quantity of movement is not measured by time.\n\nTime, being the ratio of two quantities mathematically homogeneous, is\nrepresented by an _abstract_ number. Yet the same time may be expressed\nby different numbers, according as we measure it by different units, as\ndays, hours, minutes, etc. These numbers, however, are only virtually\ndiscrete, as time cannot be discontinued.\n\nBalmes from the equation\n\n    _v_ = _s_/_t_\n\ndeduces the consequence that \u201cthe velocity is essentially a relation; for\nit cannot be otherwise expressed than by the ratio of the space to the\ntime.\u201d[81] We think that this conclusion is faulty. Space and time are\nnot homogeneous quantities; hence the mathematical ratio of space to time\nis not an abstract but a concrete number, and therefore it represents an\nabsolute quantity. Space divided by time is a length divided into equal\nparts; hence the quotient--viz., the velocity--represents the length\nof the movement made in the unit of time. And since Balmes admits that\nthe length of the movement is a quantity having a determinate value, we\ndo not see how he can escape the consequence that velocity, too, is a\nquantity of the same kind, and not a mere relation. \u201cIn the expression\nof velocity,\u201d says Balmes, \u201ctwo terms enter--space and time. Viewing the\nformer in the real order, abstraction made of that of phenomena, we more\neasily come to regard it as something fixed; and we comprehend it in a\ngiven case without any relation. A foot is at all times a foot, and a\nyard a yard. These are quantities existing in reality, and if we refer\nthem to other quantities it is only to make sure that they are so, not\nbecause their reality depends upon the relation. A cubic foot of water is\nnot a cubic foot because the measure so says, but, on the contrary, the\nmeasure so says because there is a cubic foot. The measure itself is also\nan absolute quantity; and in general all extensions are absolute, for\notherwise we should be obliged to seek measure of measure, and so on to\ninfinity\u201d (loc. cit.) This passage shows that a length described in space\nis, according to Balmes, an absolute quantity. And since the mathematical\nvalue of velocity represents a length described in space, as we have just\nproved, it follows that velocity has an absolute value.\n\nBut leaving aside all mathematical considerations, we may show that\nvelocity has an absolute value by reference to metaphysical data.\nWhat is velocity but the development in extension of the intensity of\nthe momentum impressed on a material point? Now, the intensity of the\nmomentum is an absolute quantity, equal to the quantity of the action\nby which it is produced. Hence it is evident that, as the action has an\nabsolute value, greater or less, according to circumstances, so also the\nmomentum impressed has an absolute value; and consequently the velocity\nalso, which is nothing else than the momentum itself as developing its\nintensity into extension, has an absolute value, and is an absolute\nquantity.\n\nBalmes thought the contrary, for the following reason: \u201cIf the\ndenominator, in the expression of velocity, were a quantity of the\nsame kind as space--that is, having determinate values, existing and\nconceivable by themselves alone--the velocity, although still a relation\nmight also have determinate values, not indeed wholly absolute, but only\nin the supposition that the two terms _s_ and _t_, having fixed values,\nare compared.\u2026 But from the difficulties which we have, on the one hand,\nseen presented to the consideration of time as an absolute thing, and\nfrom the fact that, on the other hand, no solid proof can be adduced to\nshow such a property to have any foundation, it follows that we know not\nhow to consider velocity as absolute, even in the sense above explained\u201d\n(loc. cit.)\n\nThis reason proves the contrary of what the author intends to establish.\nIn fact, if the denominator were of the same kind as the numerator,\nthe quotient would be an abstract number, as we know from mathematics;\nand such a number would exhibit nothing more than the relation of the\ntwo homogeneous terms--that is, how many times the one is contained in\nthe other. It is precisely because the denominator is not of the same\nkind as the numerator that the quotient must be of the same kind as the\nnumerator. And since the numerator represents space, which, according to\nBalmes, is an absolute quantity, it follows that the quotient--that is,\nthe number by which we express the velocity--exhibits a quantity of the\nsame nature: a conclusion in which all mathematicians agree. When a man\nwalks a mile, with the velocity of one yard per second, he measures the\nwhole mile yard by yard, with his velocity. If the velocity were not a\nquantity of the same kind with the space measured, how could it measure\nit?\n\nTrue it is that velocity, when considered in its metaphysical aspect,\nis not a length of space, but the intensity of the act by which\nmatter is carried through such a length. Yet, since Balmes argues\nhere from a mathematical equation, we must surmise or presume that he\nconsiders velocity as a length measured in space in the unit of time,\nas mathematicians consider it; for he cannot argue from mathematical\nexpressions with logical consistency, if he puts upon them construction\nof an unmathematical character. After all, it remains true that the\nvelocity or intensity of the movement is always to be measured by the\nextension of the movement in the unit of time; and thus it is necessary\nto admit that velocity exhibits an absolute intensive quantity measured\nby the extension which it evolves.\n\nWe therefore \u201cknow how to consider velocity as absolute,\u201d though its\nmathematical expression is drawn from a relation of space to time. The\nmeasure of any quantity is always found by comparing the quantity with\nsome unit of measure; hence all quantity, inasmuch as measured, exhibits\nitself under a relative form as _ratio mensurati ad suam mensuram_; and\nit is only under such a form that it can be expressed in numbers. But\nthis relativity does not constitute the nature of quantity, because it\npresupposes it, and has the whole reason of its being in the process of\nmensuration.\n\nWe have insisted on this point because the confusion of the absolute\nvalue of velocity with its relative mathematical expression would lead\nus into a labyrinth of difficulties with regard to time. Balmes, having\noverlooked the distinction between the mathematical expression and the\nmetaphysical character of velocity, comes to the striking consequence\nthat \u201cif the whole machine of the universe, not excluding the operations\nof our soul, were accelerated or retarded, an impossibility would be\nrealized; for the relation of the terms would have to be changed without\nundergoing any change. If the velocity be only the relation of space to\ntime, and time only the relation of spaces traversed, it is the same\nthing to change them all in the same proportion, and not to change them\nat all. It is to leave every thing as it is\u201d (loc. cit.) The author is\nquite mistaken. The very equation\n\n    _t_ = _s_/_v_,\n\non which he grounds his argument, suffices to show that if the velocity\nincreases, the time employed in measuring the space _s_ diminishes; and\nif the velocity diminishes, the time increases. This being the case, it\nis evident that an acceleration of the movements in the whole machine of\nthe universe would be a _real_ acceleration, since the same movements\nwould be performed in less time; and a retardation would be a _real_\nretardation, since the same movements would require more time. We are\ntherefore far from realizing an impossibility when we admit that, in the\nhypothesis of the author, time would vary in the inverse ratio of the\nvelocity of the universal movement.\n\n_Division of time._--Philosophers divide time into _real_ and\n_imaginary_. We have already explained this division when speaking of\nflowing duration. The reality of time evidently depends on the reality\nof movement; hence any time to which no real movement corresponds is\nimaginary. Thus if you dream that you are running, the time of your\nrunning is imaginary, because your running, too, is imaginary. In such\na case the real time corresponds to your real movements--say, to your\nbreathing, pulse, etc.--while the dream continues.\n\nImaginary time is often called also _ideal_ time, but this last epithet\nis not correct; for, as time is the duration of local movement, it is\nin the nature of time to be an object of the imagination. And for this\nreason the duration of the intellectual movements and operations of pure\nspirits is called time only by analogy, as we have above stated. However,\nwe are wont to think of such a duration as if it were homogeneous with\nour own time; for we cannot measure it except by reference to the\nduration of the movements we witness in the material world.\n\nTime is also divided into _past_, _present_, and _future_. The past\ncorresponds to a movement already made, the future to a movement which\nwill be made, and the present to a movement which is actually going\non. But some will ask: Is there really any present time? Does not the\n_now_, to which the present is confined, exclude all _before_ and all\n_after_, and therefore all succession, without which it is impossible to\nconceive time? We concede that the _now_, as such--that is, considered\nin its absolute reality--is not time, just as a point is not a line;\nfor, as the point has no length, so the _now_ has no extension. Yet, as\na point in motion describes a line, so also the _now_, by its flowing\nfrom _before_ to _after_, extends time. Hence, although the _now_, as\nsuch, is not time, its flowing from _before_ to _after_ is time. If,\nthen, we consider the present as the link of the immediate past with the\nimmediate future--that is, if we consider the _now_ not statically, but\ndynamically--we shall see at once that its actual flowing from _before_\nto _after_ implies succession, and constitutes an infinitesimal interval\nof time.\n\nThis may also be shown by reference to the nature of uniform local\nmovement. When a material point describes a line with uniform velocity,\nits movement being continuous, its duration is continuous; and therefore\nevery flowing instant of its duration is continuous, as no discontinuous\nparts can ever be reached in the division of continuum. Hence every\nflowing instant has still the nature of time. This conclusion is\nmathematically evident from the equation\n\n    _t_ = _s_/_v_,\n\nfor, _v_ being supposed constant, we cannot assume _t_ = 0 unless we also\nassume _s_ = 0. But this latter assumption would imply rest instead of\nmovement, and therefore it is out of the question. Accordingly, at no\ninstant of the movement can we assume _t_ = 0; or, which is the same,\nevery flowing instant partakes the nature of time.\n\nThe same conclusion can be established, even more evidently, by the\nconsideration of accelerated or retarded movements. When a stone is\nthrown upwards, the velocity of its ascent suffers a _continuous_\ndiminution till at last it becomes = 0; and at the very instant it\nbecomes = 0 an opposite velocity begins to urge the stone down, and\nincreases continually so long as the stone does not reach the ground\nor any other obstacle. Now, a continuous increase or decrease of the\nvelocity means that there are not two consecutive moments of time in\nwhich the stone moves at exactly the same rate; and hence nothing but\nan instant corresponds to each successive degree of velocity. But\nsince the duration of the movement is made up of nothing but such\ninstants, it is clear that the succession of such instants constitutes\ntime; and consequently, as time is continuous, those instants, though\ninfinitesimal, are themselves continuous; and thus every flowing instant\nis really time.\n\nFrom this it is plain, first, that although the _now_, as such, is not\ntime, yet its actual flowing is time.\n\nSecondly, it follows that infinitesimals of time, as employed in\ndynamics, are not mathematical figments, but realities, for time flows\nonly through infinitesimal instants; and therefore to deny the reality of\nsuch infinitesimals would be to deny the reality of time.\n\nThirdly, we gather that the absolute _now_ differs from an actual\ninfinitesimal of time; because the former, as such, is only a term of\ntime, whereas the latter is the flowing of that term from its immediate\n_before_ to its immediate _after_. Hence an infinitesimal of time is\ninfinitely less than any designable duration. In fact, its _before_ and\nits _after_ are so immediately connected with the same absolute _now_\nthat there is no room for any designable length of duration between them.\n\nFourthly, whilst the absolute _now_ is no quantity, the infinitesimal of\ntime is a real quantity; for it implies real succession. This quantity,\nhowever, is nascent, or _in fieri_ only; for the _now_, which alone is\nintercepted between the immediate _before_ and the immediate _after_, has\nno formal extension.\n\nFifthly, the infinitesimal of time corresponds to a movement by which\nan infinitesimal of space is described. And thus infinitesimals of\nspace, as considered in dynamics, are real quantities. To deny that such\ninfinitesimals are real quantities would be the same, in fact, as to\ndeny the real extension of local movement; for this movement flows and\nacquires its extension through such infinitesimals only. And the same is\ntrue of the infinitesimal actions by which the rate of local movement\nis continually modified. These latter infinitesimals are evidently real\nquantities, though infinitely less than any designable quantity. They\nhave an infinitesimal intensity, and they cause an infinitesimal change\nin the rate of the movement in an infinitesimal of time.\n\n_Evolution of time._--The preceding considerations lead us to understand\nhow it is that in any interval of time there is but one absolute _now_\nalways the same _secundum rem_, but changing, and therefore manifold\n_secundum rationem_. S. Thomas, in his opuscule _De Instantibus_, c. ii.,\nexplains this truth in the following words: \u201cAs a point to the line,\nso is the _now_ to the time. If we imagine a point at rest, we shall\nnot be able to find in it the causality of any line; but if we imagine\nthat point to be in movement, then, although it has no dimensions, and\nconsequently no divisibility in itself, it will nevertheless, from the\nnature of its movement, mark out a divisible line.\u2026 The point, however,\ndoes in no way belong to the essence of the line; for one and the\nsame real term, absolutely indivisible, cannot be at the same time in\ndifferent parts of the same permanent continuum.\u2026 Hence the mathematical\npoint which by its movement draws a line is neither the line nor any\npart of the line; but, remaining one and the same in itself, it acquires\ndifferent modes of being. These different modes of being, which must\nbe traced to its movement, are really in the line, whilst the point,\nas such, has no place in it. In the same manner, an instant, which is\nthe measure of a thing movable, and adheres to it permanently, is one\nand the same as to its absolute reality so long as the substance of the\nthing remains unimpaired, for the instant is the inseparable measure\nof its being; but the same instant becomes manifold inasmuch as it is\ndiversified by its modes of being; and it is this its diversity that\nconstitutes the essence of time.\u201d[82]\n\nFrom this explanation we may infer that, as each point, or primitive\nelement, of matter has its own _now_, one in its absolute reality,\nbut manifold in its mode of being, there are in nature as many _nows_\ndescribing distinct lines of time as there are material points in\nmovement. Accordingly, there are as many particular times as there are\nelements moving in space. The proposition that in time there is only\n_unum instans in re_ is, therefore, to be limited to the particular\ntime of one and the same subject of motion. S. Thomas did not think of\nthis limitation, because he believed, according to the old astronomical\ntheory, that the movement of the _primum mobile_--that is, of the supreme\nsphere--was the natural measure of time; and for this reason he thought\nthat, as the first movement was one, time also was one, and constituted\nthe common measure of all simultaneous movements.[83] But the truth is\nthat there must be as many distinct particular times as there are things\nactually moving. This is a manifest consequence of the doctrine which\nassimilates a flowing _now_ to a point describing a line. For as every\npoint in movement describes a distinct line in space, so also must the\nabsolute _now_ of every distinct being describe by its flowing a distinct\nline of time.\n\nThe general time, which we regard as _one_ successive duration, is the\nduration of the movement from the beginning of the world to our day,\nconceived in the abstract--that is, without reference to the particular\nbeings concerned in the movement. Time, when thus conceived, is a mere\nabstraction; whereas the particular times of particular movements are\nconcrete in their continuous extension, notwithstanding their being\nrepresented by abstract numbers. If we knew of any special body created\nand put in movement before any other body, we might regard it as _primum\nmobile_, and take its movement, if uniform, as the natural measure or\nstandard of general time; but as we know of no such particular body, and\nas we have reason to believe that the creation of all matter was made\nin one and the same moment, we are led to admit an exceedingly great\nmultitude of _prima mobilia_, every one of which was from the beginning\nof time the subject of duration. It is clear that we cannot reduce their\ndistinct durations to one general duration, except by making abstraction\nof all particular subjects, and considering movement in the abstract.\n\nNevertheless, as we inhabit the earth, we usually restrict our\nconsideration of time to those periodical intervals of duration which\ncorrespond to the periodical movements we witness in, or from, our\nplanet; and thus we take the duration of the diurnal or of the orbital\nmovement of the earth as our standard for the measure of time. If other\nplanets are inhabited by rational beings, it is obvious that their\ntime will be measured by other standards, as their diurnal and orbital\nmovements differ from those of our earth.\n\nTo the doctrine that time is evolved by the flowing of a single instant,\nS. Thomas adds an important remark to the effect that the _now_ of\ncontingent things should not be confounded with the _now_ of eternity. He\nproposes to himself the following objection: \u201cTo stand and to move are\nnot essential differences, but only different manners of being. But the\n_now_ of eternity is standing, and the _now_ of time is moving. The one,\ntherefore, seems to differ from the other in nothing but in the manner\nof being. Hence the _now_ of time would be substantially the same as the\n_now_ of eternity, which is absurd.\u201d[84]\n\nS. Thomas replies: \u201cThis cannot be true, according to our doctrine; for\nwe have seen that eternity and time differ essentially. Moreover, when\nof two things the one depends on the other as an effect from a cause,\nthe two things essentially differ; but the _now_ of eternity (which does\nnot really differ from eternity itself) is the cause of time and of the\n_now_ of time; therefore the _now_ of time and the _now_ of eternity are\nessentially different. Furthermore, the _now_ of time unites the past\nwith the future, which the _now_ of eternity does not do; for in eternity\nthere is no past and no future, because eternity is all together. Nor\nhas the objection any force. That to stand and to move do not constitute\nan essential difference is true of those things which are liable both\nto stand and to move; but that which always stands without possibility\nof moving differs essentially from that which always moves without the\npossibility of standing. And this is the case with the _now_ of eternity\non the one hand, and the _now_ of time on the other.\u201d[85]\n\n_Beginning of time._--Here the question arises whether time must have had\na beginning. Those who believe that the world could have been created _ab\n\u00e6terno_ will answer that time could have existed without a beginning. But\nwe are convinced that the world could not be created _ab \u00e6terno_; and\ntherefore we maintain that time must have begun.\n\nOur argument is drawn from the contingency of all things created.\n\nThe duration of a contingent being cannot be without a beginning; for\nthe contingent being itself must have had a beginning. In fact, as that\ncannot be annihilated which has never been in existence, so that cannot\nbe educed from nothing which has never been nothing. It is therefore\nnecessary to admit that every creature had a beginning of its existence,\nand consequently of its duration also; for nothing endures but inasmuch\nas it exists.\n\nNor can this argument be evaded by saying that a contingent being\nmay have _initium natur\u00e6_, without having _initium temporis_. This\ndistinction, though suggested and employed by S. Thomas, has no\nfoundation, because the beginning of the created nature is the beginning\nalso of its duration; and he who concedes that there must be an _initium\nnatur\u00e6_ cannot consistently deny the _initium temporis_. In fact, no\ncontingent being can be said to have been created, if there was no\ninstant in which it was created; in other terms, every creature must be\ntraced to the _now_ of its creation. But the _now_ of its creation is\nthe beginning of its duration no less than of its existence. Surely,\nwhatever has a first _now_ has a beginning of duration; but every\ncreature has its first _now_--viz., the _now_ of its creation; therefore\nevery creature has a beginning of duration. That the _now_ of creation is\nthe first _now_ is self-evident; for the _now_ of creation is that point\nof duration in which the passage is made from not being to being; and\ntherefore it marks the beginning of the existence of the created being.\nAnd since we cannot say that the duration of the created being preceded\nits existence, we are bound to conclude that the _now_ of its creation is\nthe beginning of its duration as well as of its existence.\n\nSome will object that we assume what is to be proved--viz., the very\n_now_ of creation. For, if the world had been created _ab \u00e6terno_, no\n_now_ of creation could be pointed out. To this we answer that the\n_now_ of creation, whether we can point it out determinately or not,\nmust always be admitted. To suppress it, is to suppress creation. For,\nif we assume that a thing had no _now_ of creation, we are compelled\nto deny that such a thing has ever been created. In other terms, if\nanything has no beginning of duration, it was always in act, it never\nlacked actual existence, and it never passed from non-existence to actual\nexistence--that is, it is no creature at all; for to be a creature is\nto have passed from non-existence to actual existence. And thus we must\nconclude that to create is to make a beginning of time.\n\nThe impossibility of a world created _ab \u00e6terno_ has also been argued\nfrom the impossibility of an infinite ascending series. The force of this\nproof does not, however, lie in the absurdity of an infinite series--for\nsuch an absurdity, as S. Thomas remarks, has never been demonstrated--but\nit lies in the necessity of granting a beginning to every term of the\nseries itself; for, if every term of the series has a beginning, the\nwhole series must have a beginning. S. Thomas, as we have just stated,\nteaches that an infinite ascending series is not to be judged impossible,\n\u201ceven if it were a series of efficient causes,\u201d provided it depend on\nan extrinsic cause: _In infinitum procedere in causis agentibus non\nreputatur impossibile._[86] This doctrine is universally rejected,\nand was fiercely attacked even in the time of the holy doctor; but he\npersisted in maintaining it against all, and wrote a special treatise\nto defend it _contra murmurantes_. The reason why S. Thomas embraced\nthis doctrine seems to have been that the creation of the world in the\nbeginning of time was an article of faith; and the saint believed that\narticles of faith are proved only by authority, and not by natural\nreason. He was therefore obliged to maintain that the beginning of time\ncould not be demonstrated by reason alone. \u201cThe newness of the world,\u201d\nsays he, \u201ccannot be demonstrated from the consideration of the world\nitself, because the principle of demonstration is the quiddity of things.\nNow, things, when considered as to their quiddity or species, do not\ninvolve the _hic et nunc_; and for this reason the universals are said to\nbe everywhere and in all time. Hence it cannot be demonstrated that man\nor any other thing did not always exist.\u201d[87]\n\nTo this argument we respectfully reply that, when the necessary\nconditions of a contingent fact are to be demonstrated, the principle\nof demonstration is not the abstract quiddity, or intelligible essence,\nof the things, but the contingency of their actual existence. But it is\nevident that whatever exists contingently has been educed out of nothing.\nIt is therefore necessary to conclude that all contingent things have had\na first moment of existence and of duration.\n\nThe Angelic Doctor refers also to a similitude by which some philosophers\nmentioned by S. Augustine undertook to explain the creation _ab \u00e6terno_.\nIf a foot had been _ab \u00e6terno_ pressed on the dust, the impression made\nby it would be _ab \u00e6terno_. In the same manner the world might have been\n_ab \u00e6terno_: for God, its maker, is eternal.[88] But we humbly reply\nthat the impression of the foot on the dust cannot be _ab \u00e6terno_ if it\nis contingent. For, if it is contingent, it has necessarily a beginning\nof its existence, and therefore of its duration also, as we have already\nshown. Whatever is made has a beginning of duration. Hence the fathers\nof the church, to prove that the divine Word was not made, thought it\nsufficient to point out the fact that he was _ab \u00e6terno_ like his Father.\n\nS. Thomas, after stating his conclusion that the temporal beginning of\nthe world is not demonstrable, but simply credible, remarks as follows:\n\u201cAnd this should be kept in mind, lest, by presuming to demonstrate\nwhat is matter of faith by insufficient proofs, we be laughed at by the\ninfidels, who may think that on the strength of such proofs we believe\nour articles of faith.\u201d[89] This advice is good. But we need not tell\nour readers that what we hold as of faith we hold on divine authority,\nirrespective of our philosophical reasons.\n\n_Perpetuity of time._--That time may go on without end is an evident\ntruth. But will it go on for ever, or will it cease at last? To this\nquestion we answer that time will for ever continue. As long as there\nwill be movement there will be time. There will ever be movement;\ntherefore there will ever be time. The major of this syllogism needs no\nexplanation; for time is nothing but the duration of movement. The minor\nis quite certain. For not only the rational creatures, but the earth\nitself and other corporeal things, will last for ever, as is the common\ndoctrine of philosophers, who hold that God will never destroy what he\nhas created. These material things will therefore continue to celebrate\nGod\u2019s glory for ever--that is, will continue to exert their motive power\nand to bring about divers movements; for such is their nature, and such\ntheir manner of chanting the praises of their Creator. Moreover, we know\nby faith that we shall rise from death and live for ever, and that the\nglorious bodies of the saints will possess, besides other privileges, the\ngift of agility, which would evidently be of no use if there were to be\nno local movement and no succession of time. Hence it follows that time\nwill last for ever.\n\nAnd let no one say that the Sacred Scriptures teach the contrary. For\nwherever the Sacred Scriptures mention _the end of time_, they speak, not\nabsolutely and universally, but only with reference to certain particular\nperiods or epochs of time characterized by some special events or\nmanifestation of divine Providence. Thus we read in the Apocalypse that\n\u201cthere will be time no more\u201d--_Tempus non erit amplius_--and yet we find\nthat after the end of that time there will be a thousand years; which\nshows that the phrase \u201cthere will be time no more\u201d refers to the time\nof mercy and conversion. Thus also we read in Daniel that \u201ctime has its\nend\u201d--_Quoniam habet tempus finem suum_--but we see by the context that\nhe speaks there of the Antichristian epoch, which of course must have an\nend. And the like is to be said of other similar passages.\n\nThe most we can admit in regard to the cessation of time is that, owing\nto the great catastrophe and the wonderful changes which the consummation\nof the present epoch shall bring about, the diurnal and the annual\nrevolutions, which serve now as measures of time, may be so modified as\nto give rise to a new order of things, in which time shall be measured by\na different standard. This seems to be the opinion of many interpreters\nof the Sacred Scriptures; though some of them speak as if after the\nconsummation of the present things there were to be time no more, but\nonly eternity. This manner of speaking, however, is no proof against\nthe continuance of time; for the word \u201ceternity,\u201d when applied to the\nduration of creatures, means nothing else than sempiternity--that is,\ntime without end, according to the scriptural phrase: _Annos \u00e6ternos in\nmente habui_. We learn from S. Thomas that the word \u201ceternity\u201d is used\nin three different senses: First, we call eternity the measure of the\nduration of a thing which is always invariably the same, which acquires\nnothing from the future, and loses nothing from the past. And this\nis the most proper meaning of the word \u201ceternity.\u201d Secondly, we call\neternity the measure of the duration of a thing which has a fixed and\nperpetual being, which, however, is subject to accidental changes in its\noperations. Eternity, when thus interpreted, means what we should call\n_\u00e6vum_ properly; for the _\u00e6vum_ is the measure of those things whose\nbeing lasts for ever, but which admit of succession in their operations,\nas is the case with pure intelligences. Thirdly, we call eternity the\nmeasure of a successive duration, which has _before_ and _after_ without\nbeginning and without end, or simply without end, though it have a\nbeginning; and in this sense the world has been said to be eternal,\nalthough it is really temporal. This is the most improper meaning of the\nword \u201ceternity\u201d; for the true concept of eternity excludes _before_ and\n_after_.[90] Thus far S. Thomas.\n\nWe may be allowed to remark on this passage that, according to the\nprinciples which we have established in our articles on _Substantial\nGenerations_,[91] not only the pure intelligences, but all primitive\nand elementary substances are substantially incorruptible, and have\na fixed and permanent being. Hence the distinction made by the holy\ndoctor between _\u00e6vum_ and endless time ceases to have a foundation, and\nthe whole difference between the endless duration of spiritual and of\nmaterial changes will be reduced to this: that the movements of spiritual\nsubstances are intellectual, whereas those of the material elements are\nlocal.\n\n_The phrase \u201cbefore creation.\u201d_--We often hear of such expressions\nas these: \u201cBefore creation there was God alone,\u201d \u201cBefore creation\nthere was no time,\u201d etc.; and since such expressions seem to involve\na contradiction in terms, we think it will not be superfluous to give\ntheir rational explanation. Of course, if the words \u201cbefore creation\u201d\nbe understood absolutely--that is, excluding any creation either made\nor imagined--those words will be contradictory. For the preposition\n_before_ is relative, and implies succession; and it is contradictory\nto suppose succession without anything capable of succession. When no\ncreature existed there could be nothing flowing from _before_ to _after_,\nbecause there was no movement, there being nothing movable.\n\nNor can it be said that the _now_ of divine eternity gives us a\nsufficient ground for imagining any _before_ and _after_ without\nreferring to something exterior to God himself. The _now_ of eternity\nhas in itself neither _before_ nor _after_; and when we say that it is\nequivalent to all imaginable time, we do not affirm that it implies\nsuccession, but only acknowledge that it is the supreme reason of the\npossibility of succession in created things. Hence, when we use the\nphrase \u201cBefore creation\u201d in an absolute sense, we in fact take away all\nreal _before_ and all real _after_; and thus the words \u201cBefore creation,\u201d\ntaken absolutely, involve a contradiction. They affirm explicitly what\nthey implicitly deny.\n\nThe truth is that, when we use the phrase in question, we express what\nis in our imagination, and not in our intellect. We imagine that before\ntime there was eternity because we cannot picture to ourselves eternity,\nexcept by the phantasm of infinite time. It is for this reason that in\nspeaking of eternity we use the terms by which we are accustomed to\nexpress the relations of time. The words \u201cBefore creation\u201d are therefore\nto be understood of a time which was possible in connection with some\npossible anterior creation, but which has never existed. This amounts to\nsaying that the _before_ which we conceive has no existence except in our\nimagination.\n\nS. Thomas proposes to himself the question whether, when we say that\nGod was before the world, the term \u201cbefore\u201d is to be interpreted of a\npriority of nature or of a priority of duration. It might seem, says\nhe, that neither interpretation is admissible. For if God is before the\nworld only by priority of nature, then it follows that, since God is _ab\n\u00e6terno_, the world too is _ab \u00e6terno_. If, on the contrary, God is before\nthe world by priority of duration, then, since priority and posteriority\nof duration constitute time, it follows that there was time before the\ncreation of the world; which is impossible.[92]\n\nIn answer to this difficulty the holy doctor says that God is before\nthe world by priority of duration, but that the preposition \u201cbefore\u201d\ndesignates here the priority, not of time, but of eternity. Or else we\nmust answer, he adds, that the word \u201cbefore\u201d designates a priority, not\nof real, but of imaginary, time, just as the word \u201cabove\u201d in the phrase\n\u201cabove the heavens there is nothing\u201d designates an imaginary space which\nwe may conceive by thinking of some imaginary dimensions superadded to\nthe dimensions of the heavens.[93]\n\nIt strikes us that the first of these two answers does not really solve\nthe difficulty. For the priority of eternity cannot mean but a priority\nof nature and of pre-eminence, by which God\u2019s permanent duration\ninfinitely _excels_, rather than _precedes_, all duration of creatures.\nIn accordance with this, the objector might still urge on his conclusion\nthat, if God does not precede the world, the world is _ab \u00e6terno_ like\nGod himself. The second answer agrees with what we ourselves have\nhitherto said. But as regards the objection proposed, it leaves the\ndifficulty entire. For, if God was before the world by a priority, not of\nreal, but of imaginary time, that \u201cbefore\u201d is imaginary, and not real.\nAnd the consequence will be that God was not really \u201cbefore\u201d the world,\nbut we imagine him to have been so.\n\nWe must own that with our imperfect language, mostly fashioned by\nimagination, it is not easy to give a clear and popular solution of the\nobjection. Perhaps the most summary manner of dealing with it would be to\ndeny the inference in the first horn of the dilemma--viz., that if God is\nbefore the world by priority of nature only, then the world will be _ab\n\u00e6terno_ as much as God himself. This inference, we say, is to be denied;\nfor it involves the false supposition that a thing is _ab \u00e6terno_ if\nthere is no time before it; whereas that only is _ab \u00e6terno_ which has no\nbeginning of duration.\n\nThus there is no need of saying that God _precedes_ the world in\nduration; for it suffices to admit that he was before the world by\npriority of nature and of causality. The duration of eternity has no\n\u201cbefore\u201d and no \u201cafter,\u201d though we depict it to ourselves as extending\ninto indefinite time. Even the verb _was_ should not be predicated\nof God; for God, strictly speaking, neither was, nor will be, but\npermanently _is_. Hence it seems to us that it would be a contradiction\nto affirm that God was _before_ the world by the duration of his\neternity, while we acknowledge that in his eternity there is no \u201cbefore.\u201d\nBut enough about this question.\n\n_The duration of rest._--Supposing that a body, or an element of matter,\nis perfectly at rest, it may be asked how the duration of this rest can\nbe ascertained and measured. Shall we answer that it is measured by time?\nBut if so, our reader will immediately conclude that time is not merely\nthe duration of movement, as we have defined it, but also the duration of\nrest. On the other hand, how can we deny that rest is measured by time,\nwhen we often speak of the rest of a few minutes or of a few hours?\n\nWe might evade the question by answering that nothing in creation lies\nin absolute rest, but everything is acting and acted upon without\ninterruption, so that its movement is never suspended. But we answer\ndirectly that, if there were absolute rest anywhere in the world, the\nduration of that rest should be measured by the duration of exterior\nmovements. In fact, rest has no _before_ and _after_ in itself, because\nit is immovable, but only outside of itself. It cannot therefore have\nan intrinsic measure of its duration, but it must borrow it from the\n_before_ and _after_ of exterior movement. In other words, the thing\nwhich is in perfect rest draws no line of time; it has only a statical\n_now_ which is a mere term of duration; and if everything in the world\nwere in absolute rest, time would cease altogether. Hence what we call\nthe duration of rest is simply the duration of a movement exterior to the\nthing which is at rest.\n\nThis will be easily understood by considering that between a flowing and\na standing _now_ there is the same relation as between a moving and a\nstanding point.\n\nNow, to change the relation of distance between two points in space, it\nsuffices that one of them move while the other stands still. This change\nof distance is measured by the movement of the first point; and thus the\npoint which is at rest undergoes, without moving, a continuous change in\nits relation to the moving point. In a similar manner, two _nows_ being\ngiven, the one flowing and the other standing, the time extended by the\nflowing of the first measures the change of its relation to the second,\nand consequently, also, the change of the relation of the second to the\nfirst. This shows that the time by which we measure the duration of rest\nis nothing but the duration of the movement extrinsic to the thing at\nrest.\n\nBut, as we have said, nothing in creation is in absolute rest; and\ntherefore what we consider as resting has really some movement\nimperceptible to our senses--as, _v.g._, molecular vibrations--by which\nthe duration of its supposed rest is intrinsically measured. In God\u2019s\neternity alone there is perfect immobility; but its duration cannot be\nmeasured by time, even as an extrinsic measure, because the standing\nduration of eternity has nothing common with the flowing duration of\ncreatures. As local movement cannot measure divine immensity, so flowing\nduration cannot measure divine eternity; because, as the _ubi_ of a\ncreature never changes its relation to God\u2019s immensity, so the _quando_\nof a creature never changes its relation to God\u2019s eternity.\n\n_Continuity of time._--We will conclude with a few remarks on the\ncontinuity of time. That time is essentially continuous is evident;\nbut the question has been proposed: What if God were to annihilate all\nexisting creatures, and to make a new creation? Would the instant of\nannihilation be immediately followed by the instant of the new creation,\nor could there be an interval of time between them?\n\nThe right answer to this question is that between the annihilation and\nthe new creation there would be no time: because there cannot be time\nwithout succession, and no succession without creatures. Yet, it would\nnot follow that the instant of the annihilation should be immediately\nunited with the instant of the new creation; in other words, the duration\nof the new world would not be a continuation of the duration of the world\nannihilated. The reason of this is that there cannot be a continuation of\ntime, unless the same _now_ continues to flow. For when one flowing _now_\nceases to be, and another begins, the line of time drawn by the first\ncomes to an end, and another line, altogether distinct, begins, and this\nlatter cannot be a continuation of the former. If the English mail, for\ninstance, reaches New York at a given instant, and the French mail at the\nsame instant starts from Paris, no one will say that the movement of the\nFrench mail is a continuation of the movement of the English mail. Hence\nthe duration of the movement of the one is not the continuation of that\nof the other.\n\nMoreover, from what we have seen about the distinct lines of time\ndescribed by distinct subjects of flowing duration, it is plain that\neven the durations of simultaneous movements are always distinct from\none another, as belonging to distinct subjects; and accordingly, when\none of the said movements ceases, the continuation of the others cannot\nbe looked upon as its continuation. Hence, if the present world were\nannihilated, its duration would cease altogether; and the duration of\na newly-created world would draw a new line of time quite distinct\nfrom that of the present world, though between the end of the one and\nthe beginning of the other there would be no time. \u201cThe two worlds\nin question,\u201d as Balmes remarks, \u201cwould have no mutual relation;\nconsequently there would be neither distance nor immediateness between\nthem.\u201d[94]\n\nTime is _formally_ continuous. Formal continuity we call that of which\nall the constituent elements have their own formal and distinct existence\nin nature. In time such elements are those flowing instants which\nunite the immediate past with the immediate future. This continuity is\nessentially successive. It is owing to its successivity that time, as\nwell as movement, can be, and is, formally continuous. For no formal\ncontinuum can be simultaneous, as we have shown where we refuted the\nhypothesis of continuous matter.[95] But let this suffice about time.\n\n\nAN INCIDENT OF THE REIGN OF TERROR.\n\nThe close of the XVIIIth century found the good people of these United\nStates in a most amiable mood. The consciousness of all they had\nachieved, by sustaining their Declaration of Independence in the face of\noverwhelming difficulties, produced a glow of national self-complacency\nthat has thrown its glamour over the first page of our public annals,\nwhich--as history counts her pages by centuries--we are only now\npreparing to turn. Not until we were drawing near its close was the\nlight of that agreeable illusion obscured by the shadow of a question\nwhether the \u201cglorious Fourth\u201d was not like to prove, after all, a most\n_in_glorious failure.\n\nSelf-complacency is never an elevating sentiment, and seldom sustained\nby the merits upon the assumed possession of which it is based. But our\npeople had many substantial virtues, sufficient to atone abundantly for\ntheir indulgence in a pleasant foible. Among these was the principle of\ngratitude, to which none but truly noble natures are subject. That they\npossessed it was proved by their promptness in hastening to relieve and\ncomfort the French refugees whom the Reign of Terror had driven to our\nshores when it was devastating that fair realm across the Atlantic which\nhad been the first to extend assistance and sympathy to us in the hour of\nneed.\n\nWe have vivid recollections of sitting for hours--patchwork in hand--at\nthe feet of a dear relative in the pleasant home of our childhood,\nlistening to thrilling tales of those times, many of them connected with\nthe French emigrants--of the cordial hospitality with which all the\nhomes of her native city of Hartford, Conn., were thrown open to receive\nthese interesting exiles; of the shifts the inhabitants devised and the\ndiscomforts they endured in order to provide comfortable shelter and\nsustenance for so many from means already impoverished by the drain of\nthe conflict through which we ourselves had but just passed.\n\nNow, this dear relative was the possessor of a small gold locket of\nantique fashion and exquisite workmanship, which was an object of\nunceasing admiration to our childish fancy. In form it was an oblong\noctagon. The border was a graceful tiny pattern in mosaic-gold inlaid\nwith amethyst and pearl. In the centre were two miniatures painted on\nglass with marvellous distinctness and accuracy: the one a likeness\nof that most unfortunate queen, Marie Antoinette, the other of her\nbeloved sister-in-law, the amiable Princess Elizabeth. A heavy pebble\ncrystal, perfectly transparent, covered the pictures without in the least\nobscuring their delicate tints. In the back of the locket was an open\nspace, within which, our relative said, was once laid, upon the ground\nof dark satin that still remained, a knot formed by two small locks of\nglossy, silken hair, one a light rose-tinged auburn, the other flaxen\nwith a golden sheen. A glass covered these also.\n\nAfter much persuasion our relative related to us the following\n\n\nSTORY OF THE LOCKET.\n\nMy father was an officer in the Continental army, and, soon after the\nwar of our Revolution closed, returned to his former home in the city\nof Hartford, Conn., where he accepted an office of high municipal\ntrust. He was moved by the generous impulses of his nature to a life\nof active benevolence; and when, in 1792-3, the Revolution in France\ndrove thousands of her citizens to take refuge in our republic, none\nwere more zealous and untiring than he in seeking out and providing for\nthe unfortunate strangers. Every apartment in our spacious house was\nsoon filled. Rooms were prepared in the carriage-house and barns for my\nbrothers and the domestics of the household, while my sisters and myself\ntook possession of a small room in the attic which had been a repository\nfor the spare bedding, now called into use.\n\nAmong our guests was one lady who was distinguished by having a spacious\nroom set apart for her sole use, and who seldom left it or mingled with\nher companions in misfortune and exile. Upon the rare occasions when\nshe did appear briefly in their circle, it was striking to observe the\nceremonious deference, amounting almost to veneration, with which she\nwas received. Where or how my father found her I never knew; but his\nmanner towards her was so profoundly respectful as to impress us all\nwith feelings akin to fear in her presence. Yet these impressions were\nproduced by the demeanor of others only; for on her own part there was\nnot the slightest self-assertion or assumption of stateliness. Simple and\nunobtrusive as a child in her manners, she was indescribably affable to\nall; but her countenance wore an expression which, when once seen, could\nnever be forgotten. More forcibly and clearly than words did it convey\nthe story that some overwhelming deluge of calamity had swept from her\nlife every vestige of earthly hope and joy. By no outward token did she\nparade her griefs. Her dress, plain, even severe, in its perfect neatness\nand simplicity, displayed no mourning-badge, but her very smile was an\nintimate revelation of sorrow.\n\nShe was known by the title of \u201cMadame,\u201d though some of our guests would\nnow and then add, when speaking of her in an undertone--not lost upon a\nsmall listener like myself--\u201cla Comtesse.\u201d Her waiting-maid, Celeste, was\nentirely devoted to her, and always served her slight and simple meals to\nher in her own room.\n\nSoon after her arrival I was sent on some errand to madame\u2019s apartment,\nand her agitation upon seeing me was a thing to be remembered for a\nlifetime. She drew me to her bosom, caressing me with many tears,\nsuppressed sobs, and rapid exclamations in her own language. I learned\nafterwards from Celeste that I was of the same age and bore a striking\nresemblance in form and face to her daughter, who had been torn from\nher in the storm and turmoil of their escape. They had been rescued\nby a faithful servant, and hurried off, more dead than alive, in the\nfright, confusion, and uproar of a terrible outbreak in Paris, and had\ndiscovered, when too late, that her daughter had been separated from\nthem and was missing. Their deliverer promised to make every possible\neffort to find the child, but Celeste had little hope; for she had heard\nfrom the servant of another lady, who escaped later--but had never told\nher mistress--that one of the women who daily watched the carts which\nconveyed the victims to the guillotine had averred that she was sure she\nsaw the child among their number.\n\nFrom the first I was a welcome visitor in the lady\u2019s room. She\nencouraged me to pass all the time with her which could be spared from\nhousehold duties; for in those days every child was required to perform\na portion of these. The schools in Hartford were, for the most part,\nclosed during that period, that the buildings might be devoted to the\naccommodation of the strangers, who requited the kindness by teaching\nthe children of each household where they were entertained, daily. I was\nthe chosen pupil of madame. She soon imparted sufficient knowledge of\nthe French to give her instructions in her own language. Never was child\nblest with a more gentle and painstaking teacher! To a thorough course\nin the simple branches of study she added many delicate accomplishments\nthen unknown in our country, and the most patient training in all matters\nconnected with dress and deportment. After lessons she would hold long\nconversations with me, more profitable than the lessons themselves,\nawakening interest by suggestions and inquiries tending to form habits\nof thinking, as well as of acquiring knowledge. Then such wonderful\nfairy tales as she would relate! I used to listen perfectly entranced.\nNever have I heard in English any fairy lore that would compare with it.\nTranslations we may have, but the fairy charm of the original is lost.\n\nAt that time the spirit of infidelity and atheism which laid the train\nfor the horrors of the French Revolution prevailed widely in our own\ncountry. When too young to comprehend their import, I had often listened\nto warm discussions between my father, who was strongly tinctured with\nthose opinions--while in politics he was an ultra-democrat--and my\nmaternal grandfather, a High-Churchman and Tory. The latter always\ninsisted--and it was all I understood of their conversations--that\nit was impossible for a government founded upon popular unbelief and\ninsubordination to stand. He was utterly hopeless for ours, not because\nit was democratic in form, but because the people no longer reverenced\nauthority, had ceased to be imbued with the first principle of loyalty\nto God as Supreme Ruler, and to the \u201cpowers that be\u201d as his appointed\ninstruments. These subjects were themes of constant debate, and were\ntreated with a warmth that commanded even the notice of children.\n\nSome of our guests affected a gay and careless indifference to the claims\nof God and man that amounted to a rejection of both; others vehemently\ndenounced all religion as a figment of priest-craft; while still another\nclass met such questions with the solemnity arising from a conviction of\nthe tremendous temporal and eternal interests which they involved.\n\nIt was refreshing to steal away from these evening debates in the\ndrawing-room to the peaceful atmosphere of madame\u2019s apartment. I\nfrequently found her saying her beads, of which I knew nothing, only that\nthey were exceedingly beautiful to the sight, and composed of very costly\nmaterials. I used to enter her room very quietly, and take my accustomed\nseat in silence, until her devotions were closed. Of her religion I\nknew no more than the name; but its evident influence upon every action\nof her life left an indelible impression upon my mind that it was a\npower above and beyond any of the prevailing forms around us. She never\nspoke expressly of her religion to me, but the purely Christian tone\nof her instructions upon all the duties of life, social and domestic,\nexemplified by her own conduct, proved abundantly that it was more than\na mere sentiment or a name. I was too young at that time to reason upon\nthese things, but, as I have said, they left an indelible impression,\nand, as life advanced, furnished food for many reveries which at length\nripened into serious thought.\n\nHow the weary months must have dragged along for those exiled\nunfortunates! Yet the cheerfulness, even gayety, with which they endured\ntheir misfortunes and the torturing suspense of their position, was a\nmatter of constant marvel to their New England friends. They watched the\narrival of every ship from France with intense anxiety, and a renewal of\ngrief and mourning was sure to follow the tidings it brought. Yet the\npolite amenities and courtesies of their daily life, which seemed a part\nof their nature, were never for a moment abated, and in the wildest storm\nof grief even the women never lost that exquisite sense of propriety\nwhich distinguishes their nation.\n\nAnd so the time wore on until a certain memorable night in September,\n1794. My father\u2019s residence was situated upon an elevated street which\ncommanded a wide view of the city and its environs. How well I remember\nstanding with my sisters by the window of our attic dormitory, looking\nout upon the quiet city sleeping under the calm light of the harvest\nmoon, on that never-to-be-forgotten night! The contemplation of the\nscene was too pleasant to be easily relinquished, and it was late before\nwe could turn away from its fascinations to our rest. We were scarcely\nlost in sleep when we were awakened suddenly by a thrilling shout in\nthe street, accompanied by the wild huzzahs of an excited multitude. We\nhastened to the lower rooms, where we found the strangers gathered around\nthe open windows, from which they were waving handkerchiefs, hats, and\nscarfs, and mingling their shouts with those of the throng outside.\n\nIn the street the city crier moved along in advance of the crowd, mounted\non a tall white horse, and waving an immense banner. At every crossing\nhe would pause and shout through a speaking-trumpet, \u201cRejoice! rejoice!\nRobespierre, the tyrant, has fallen! has fallen!\u201d Then followed the\njubilant cheers of the rapidly-increasing crowd. And so they passed on\nthrough every street in the city.\n\nI sought madame\u2019s apartment, and found her kneeling in the same reverent\nattitude of humble devotion with which I had so long been familiar.\nStrange to say, my first thought upon hearing the news so joyful to\nothers was one of dismal apprehension, and my first emotion one of\nineffable sadness! Quick as thought came the painful assurance to my\nheart that this was the signal for my final separation from the loving\nfriend, the gentle teacher, to whom I had become inexpressibly attached.\nAs she arose and extended her arms towards me, I threw myself into them,\nand, hiding my face in her bosom, gave way to a burst of uncontrollable\ngrief. Words were not necessary to explain its cause. Understanding it\nat a glance, she caressed and soothed me with assurances of her undying\nlove, and that she could never forget or cease to pray for the child\nwhom heaven had appointed to be her dearest consolation under her great\nafflictions.\n\nMy apprehensions proved well founded. The same ship which brought tidings\nof the tyrant\u2019s fall brought letters also to madame from faithful\nfriends, urging her immediate return to France.\n\nMy father accompanied her to Boston, in order to make needful preparation\nfor her departure on the next outward-bound vessel. I was thrown into\nsuch an agony of grief at the thought of parting with her that madame\nbegged I might be permitted to go with them, urging that the change of\nscene and a visit to relatives in Boston might divert my thoughts and\nsoothe the bitter anguish of my young heart. He consented, and, when we\nreached the city, he left us at the house of his sister, where I found\nmy cousins all engaged preparing for an examination and exhibition which\nwas to take place the next day to close the term of the school they were\nattending, on the same street and near by.\n\nThey insisted that I should go with them, and madame dressed me in a\nwhite muslin with a blue sash. She then hung the locket you so much\nadmire, suspended from a delicate gold chain, around my neck, and I set\noff with my cousins.\n\nWe found the girls grouped together in great glee, awaiting the opening\nexercises. In the centre of the group was a fair and graceful girl, near\nmy own age and size, with a large basket containing bouquets of flowers\narranged with admirable taste, which the girls were purchasing for\nthemselves and to decorate the school-room.\n\nMy cousins replied to my questions about the young stranger: \u201cOh! we call\nher the little flower girl. She lives with a farmer just out of the city.\nThe family are very fond of her, and he gives her a little place in the\ngarden to cultivate flowers, and lets her come with him on market days to\nsell them for herself in the city. She heard of what was going on here,\nand thought this would be a good market for her bouquets; and so it has\nbeen, for she has sold them all.\u201d\n\nFor some reason I could not turn my eyes from the child. There seemed to\nbe a mutual fascination which drew us together, and I observed she was\nlooking intently and with much emotion at the locket I wore. I asked her\nwhy she was so much interested in it. She answered with a slight French\naccent: \u201cMy mamma had such a locket, and all the ladies of the queen\u2019s\nhousehold wore them.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd where is your mamma?\u201d I inquired.\n\n\u201cAlas! I do not know if she is living. I lost her in a great crowd in the\nstreets of Paris, and was so frightened at the horrors around me that I\nremember nothing until I found myself on board the ship which brought\nme here. How I came there I never knew. The kind-hearted farmer with\nwhom I live was on the wharf when we landed, and, in great pity for my\nbewildering loneliness and grief, took me to his home, where I have since\nreceived every attention and sympathy.\u201d\n\nAlmost sinking under agitation, I turned to my cousins, who had been too\nmuch occupied with their own affairs to notice us, and faintly gasped:\n\u201cShe is, she must be, the daughter for whom madame mourns!\u201d\n\nAt the bare suggestion all else was forgotten! There was an impetuous\nhuddling of our electrified companions around the bewildered little\nstranger, and a petition that the school exercises might be delayed\nuntil they could escort her to my aunt and learn whether my conjecture\nwas true. So great was their excitement that it was useless to deny the\nrequest, and we led our heroine off with hasty steps.\n\nOn the way we decided that my aunt should break the matter gently to\nmadame, and introduce the child to her in her room.\n\nThere was no need of an introduction! The moment their eyes met the\nexclamations \u201cAntoinette!\u201d \u201cMamma!\u201d burst from their lips, and my aunt\nleft them locked in a close embrace. The scene was too sacred for\nintrusion!\n\nThe news flew with the speed of the wind, and there were great rejoicings\nfar and near over the timely discovery brought about by means of the\nlocket, which madame bestowed upon me (after removing the knot of\nhair, too precious, as a relic of her lamented queen and the Princess\nElizabeth, to be relinquished) in memory of this joyful event, and as a\nsouvenir of the beloved friend and teacher with whom I had passed so many\nhappy and profitable hours.\n\nSoon after the reunion of the mother and child they sailed for France,\nand I returned with my father to a home which was now bereft of a charm\nthat could never be replaced or restored. But my sympathy with their joy\nwas too sincere to be chilled by selfish regrets.\n\nDuring my father\u2019s stay in Boston he made some final arrangements\nconnected with a large territory of wild lands which he had received from\nthe government in partial requital of his services in the army.\n\nTo that distant wilderness he removed his family immediately after our\nreturn. The absence of mail communication with such remote districts,\nin those days, was doubtless the reason why we never received further\ntidings from one who had placed us among the favored few that \u201chave\nentertained angels unawares.\u201d\n\nIn the loneliness of my forest home, and through a long life marked by\nmany changes and sorrows, I have cherished grateful memories of the early\nlessons I received from her lips, and they have proved, through their\ninfluence upon my religious and moral being, a legacy far more precious\nthan a thousand caskets of gold and precious stones.\n\n\nTHE CHARITIES OF ROME.\n\nThe present sacrilegious invaders of Rome have done much to change the\nreligious aspect of the city, and obliterate every trace of the influence\nof the popes upon the charities once so liberally thrown open to the\npeople of every clime and color. In the true spirit of modern \u201cprogress,\u201d\nphilanthropy has usurped the place of charity, and the state, taking\npossession of institutions founded and hitherto directed in many points\nby the church, banishes her as far from them as possible. It may be\ninteresting to pass in review some of those magnificent charities which\nsprang up and flourished so long under pontifical protection, but which\nhave lately either been violently suppressed or are fast disappearing\nunder the difficulties of the political situation. We will write of these\ncharities as they existed in 1869, which was the last year during the\nwhole of which the papal government had control of them. In that year\nan English Protestant writer, long resident in Rome, was obliged by the\nclearness of facts to tell his readers that \u201cfew cities in Europe are so\ndistinguished for their institutions of public charity as Rome, and in\nnone are the hospitals more magnificently lodged or endowed with more\nprincely liberality. The annual endowments of these establishments are no\nless than 258,390 scudi, derived from lands and houses, from grants, and\nfrom the papal treasury.\u201d\n\nWhen S. Peter entered Rome for the first time, and looked upon the\nmiserable condition of those to whom the favors of fortune were denied,\nhe recalled to mind the words addressed to his forefathers about to enter\ninto the promised land: \u201cThere shall be no poor nor beggar among you:\nthat the Lord thy God may bless thee in the land which he giveth thee to\npossess\u201d (Deut. xv. 4), and saw before him one of the greatest obstacles\nto be overcome--involving a change of what was second nature to the\nRomans (hardness of heart), they being, as S. Paul wrote (Rom. i. 31),\n\u201cwithout affection, without mercy\u201d--but knowing that it was also said\nin the same holy text \u201cPoor will not be wanting in the land: therefore\nI command thee to open thy hand to thy needy and poor brother,\u201d and\nhaving heard the blessed Lord Jesus say of the new dispensation, \u201cThe\npoor ye have always with you,\u201d he understood that God\u2019s object was not\nto forbid mendicity, but to leave no room for it. Therefore to the rich\nand powerful, when brought by grace to his apostolic feet, he enjoined:\n\u201cDeal thy bread to the hungry, and bring the needy and the harborless\ninto thy house\u201d (Isaias lviii. 7). The faith of the Roman Christians was\nillustrious throughout the world, and so was their charity. From the\ndays of S. Peter it had been customary to take up collections on Sundays\nin all the congregations of the city for the relief of the confessors\ncondemned to labor in the public mines and other works, or languishing\nin prison, or wandering in exile; and Eusebius has preserved in his\n_Ecclesiastical History_ (lib. iv. cap. 23) the testimony of Dionysius,\nBishop of Corinth (161-192), in favor of the long-established charitable\ninstitutions of the Romans, and in praise, at the same time, of the piety\nof his contemporary, Pope S. Soter, who not only retained these customs\nof his people, but surpassed them in sending money to the Christians\nof other parts of the world, and in receiving, as though they were his\nown children, all faithful pilgrims to Rome. In the year 236 Pope S.\nFabian gave charge of the poor of Rome to seven deacons each of whom\nsuperintended two of the fourteen civil divisions or regions, whence\nthey were called regionary deacons. A memorial of their occupation still\nremains in the dalmatic, or deacon\u2019s vestment, the wide sleeves of which\nserved originally for pockets; and Pope Innocent III., in his treatise\non the Mass, remarks that this kind of dress is attributed to deacons\nbecause, in the first institution of their order, the distribution of\nalms was assigned to them. A council of the IVth century, held under\nPope Sylvester, decreed that one-fourth part of the church revenues\nshould be set apart for the poor. S. Jerome attests in one of his letters\nthat a noble matron named Fabiola erected a hospital in the year 400;\nand about the same time S. Gallicanus, a man of consular dignity, who\nhad also been honored with a triumph, becoming a Christian, founded a\nsimilar institution at the mouth of the Tiber for the accommodation of\npilgrims and of the sick. He waited upon them in person. In 1869 Rome had\na population of about 220,000 inhabitants, and, although the climate is\nnot unhealthy, it is hardly one of the most salubrious in the world. The\nlow land upon which a great part of the modern city is built; the turbid\nTiber, which, passing through it in a winding course, is apt to overflow\nits banks; the open position of the city, which is exposed, according to\nthe season, either to the sultry African wind or to the piercing blasts\nfrom the neighboring mountains; and the large floating population, which\nis everywhere a likely subject of disease, combine to make it desirable\nthat Rome should be well provided with institutions of succor and relief.\nWhile under papal rule, she was not wanting in this respect, but was even\nabundantly and excellently supplied.\n\nMan, being composed of spirit and matter, having consequently a soul\nand a body to look after, has wants of two kinds, corresponding to the\ntwofold claims of his nature. We should therefore divide the charities\nman is capable of receiving into two classes. He received them in\nRome with a generous hand. The first class comprehended relief to\nthe indigent, the sick, the destitute, the insane, the convalescent;\npossessed hospitals and asylums, brought aid into private families,\nopened nocturnal retreats, offered work to the honest needy, gave\nmarriage portions to the nubile, shielded widows, protected orphans,\nadvanced money on the easiest terms. These were charities of subsistence.\nThe second class embraced poor schools and other establishments for\ngratuitous education in trades, arts, and sciences, conservatories for\nthe exposed, hospices for the reformed, and made provision for the legal\ndefence of the weak. These were called charities of education.\n\nThere were two institutions in Rome that assisted the poor before they\nhad fallen into misery or become destitute. These were the _Monte di\nPiet\u00e0_ and the savings-bank. The first was a bank of loan and deposit.\nThe idea of such an institution was suggested by a pious and shrewd\nFranciscan, named Barnabas of Terni, who was painfully struck, during a\nmission he was giving in Perugia in the year 1462, by the enormous usury\n(a crime then practised almost exclusively by Jews) which the poor were\nforced to pay for any advance of money they might need. This practical\nfriar prevailed upon several wealthy persons to mass sums of money into\none fund, out of which to lend to the poor at a reasonable (and in some\ncases merely nominal) rate of interest. Hence the distinctive name of\nMonte di Piet\u00e0, which means literally mountain of mercy. The Roman\n_Monte_ was the third institution of the sort that was opened. This was\nin the year 1539. It was to lend money up to a certain amount without\ntaking interest; above this amount for a very small interest. It was to\ntake articles on pawn, and give the appraised value, less one-third. Over\n$100,000 used, under the papal government, to be annually loaned out\non pawns or otherwise without one cent of interest. This establishment\noccupied a superb public building, and was under the control of the\nMinister of Finance. Honest visitors were freely admitted into every part\nof it; and we have heard many (even hard-fisted) English and Americans\nexpress themselves surprised, if not satisfied, with this reasonable and\nconscientious manner of saving the poor from the gripe of usurers and\npawn-brokers, while imposing enough restraint to discourage improvidence.\nNo hope was held out of indiscriminate relief. Looking at the _Monte_\nin an antiquarian light, it was a perfect museum of modern life, and\nto go through it was as good as visiting a hundred consolidated old\ncuriosity-shops. Its administration employed, including a detachment of\nthe Swiss Guard, one hundred persons. The capital, which consisted of\nevery kind of property that at various periods and from many benefactors\nhad come to it, was about three million dollars. The most orthodox\npolitical economists acknowledge that institutions of this sort were\ndevised only as a lesser evil; and consequently the Roman government\nwas glad to see the business of the _Monte_ fall away considerably\nafter the opening of the savings-bank in 1836. This was a charitable\ninstitution, because it was governed gratuitously by an administration\nof eleven honest and intelligent men, among whom were some of the first\nnobility, who thus gave a portion of their time and talents to the\npoor. The cashier, Prince Borghese, gave, besides his services, a part\nof his magnificent palace to be turned into offices for the business\ntransactions of the bank.\n\nThe Apostolic Almonry in the Vatican next claimed our attention in the\nquiet days of the Pope. From the earliest period the vicars of Christ\nhave made it a practice to visit in person the poor, and distribute\nalms with their own hands, in love and imitation of Him who \u201cwent about\ndoing good.\u201d As the wealth of the church in Rome increased, it was found\nnecessary for the better ordering of things to have some administrative\nassistance in the distribution of these private charities. S. Conon\nI., in the VIIth century, employed the arch-priest Paschal to dispense\nthe bounty of the privy purse; and in the year 1271 Blessed Gregory\nX. created the perpetual office of grand almoner in the papal court.\nThis officer is always an archbishop _in partibus_, and lives under\nthe same roof as the Holy Father, in order to be ready at all times to\nreceive his commands. Besides the many standing largitions issued from\nthe Grand Almonry, there were occasional ones, such as the largess of\n$300 which was distributed in the great court-yard of Belvidere on each\nanniversary of the Pope\u2019s coronation. This sum was doubled the first\nyear. On each of the following civil or religious festivals, Christmas,\nEaster, and Coronation day, $165 were divided among a certain number of\nthe best-behaved prisoners confined in Rome. About $650 a month were paid\nout either at the word of the sovereign or on his order; while a sum of\n$2,000 was annually divided among one hundred poor families. Besides\nthis, the Grand Almonry supported a number of free schools, dispensed\nfood and medicines, and performed many acts of more secret charity. A\nmemorial of the earlier personal distribution of alms by the popes is\nretained in the _Succinctorium_, which they wear in solemn pontificals.\nIt is an ornament of silk of the color of the feast, fringed with gold,\nand suspended down the left side from the girdle. On Good Friday the\nsuccinctory is not worn, in execration of the evil use Judas Iscariot\nmade of the purse when he betrayed our Lord for thirty pieces of silver.\n\nAnother of the great charities of Rome was the Commission of Subsidies\nestablished by Pope Leo XII., in 1826, to give assistance and employment\nto poor but honest people, willing to help themselves if they could find\nthe opportunity. The whole tendency of Roman charities under the popes\nwas to frown upon sloth and vagrancy, and encourage self-reliance and\nmutual support; for S. Paul wrote to the Thessalonians (2, iii. 10): \u201cIf\nany man will not work, neither let him eat.\u201d The commission received\na yearly subsidy from government of $88,500. In each of the fourteen\nrioni or wards of the city a physician, surgeon, pharmacist, and midwife\nrendered gratuitous services under its control. It was by the judicious\nemployment of such men, thrown on the hands of the commission, that\nwithin the last thirty years so much was done in making excavations in\nand about Rome in search of antiquities and in studying its ancient\ntopography. We have sometimes heard English and American sight-seers make\nbrutal remarks about \u201cthose dirty, lazy Romans,\u201d as they would stop a\nmoment to look at some party of these poor fellows taking their work so\neasily in the Forum, on the Palatine, or elsewhere; but we should rather\napplaud the paternal government that refrained from calling poverty a\ncrime or driving the poor and weak to their work like galley-slaves; and\nwhile contributing a generous support, gave them enough to do to save\ntheir self-respect.\n\nNo such thing as work-houses, in the English sense, have ever been\nmaintained where Catholic influences have predominated; and for this we\nmay thank God.\n\nAnother category of Roman charities comprised the confraternities. These\nassociations for purposes of piety and mutual help convey in their name\nthe idea of brotherliness and union. There were no fewer than ninety-one\nconfraternities in Rome under the popes. The oldest and most famous of\nthese was the Annunciation, which was founded in 1460 by the Dominican\nCardinal John Torquemada, in Santa Maria-in-Minerva, the head church of\nhis order in Rome.[96] Its particular object was to give portions to\npoor but virtuous young females, that they might either marry or enter a\nreligious house if they had a vocation. On the 25th of March, Lady-day,\nthe pope, cardinals, and prelates, with the rest of the court, used to\nassist at Mass in that church, and preside at the distribution of dowers\nwhich followed immediately. The girls were always dressed in plain\nwhite; such as had signified their choice of the heavenly Spouse being\ndistinguished by a wreath on the head. On this occasion the pontiff gave\none hundred golden scudi, and each cardinal present gave one, to the\nfunds of the confraternity. There were fourteen other confraternities\nthat had the same object, although carried out with less solemnity. In\nthis way $42,000 used to be expended annually.\n\nThe Confraternity of the Twelve Apostles made it a special point to find\nout and relieve in a delicate manner those who, having known better days,\nwere fallen into reduced circumstances. The Confraternity of Prayer and\nDeath buried the dead; and if an accident in or about Rome was reported\nin which life was lost, a party was detailed to go and bring the body\nin decently for Christian burial. Sometimes a poor herdsman on the\nCampagna had been gored by an ox, or some fellow had been swept away and\ndrowned in the Tiber, or perhaps a reaper been prostrated by the heat;\nat whatever hour of the day or night, and at all seasons, a band of this\nconfraternity went out, and returned carrying the unfortunate person on\na stretcher upon their shoulders. It must be remarked in this connection\nthat the members of the confraternity always observed the laws concerning\ndeaths of this kind, not interfering with, but merely placing themselves\nat the disposal of, the officers of justice, to give a body burial at\ntheir own expense and in consecrated ground. The Confraternity of Pity\nfor Prisoners was founded in 1575 by Father John Tallier, a French\nJesuit. It provided religious instruction for prisoners, distributed\nobjects of piety among them, looked after their families if destitute,\nand assisted them to pay their debts and fines if they had any. The\nConfraternity of S. John Baptist was composed exclusively of Florentines\nand the descendants of Florentines. Its object was to comfort and assist\nto the last, criminals condemned to death. As decapitation was the mode\nof judicial punishment, S. John Baptist, who was slain by Herod, was\ntheir patron, and his head on a charger the arms of the confraternity.\nAlthough there were so many confraternities and other pious associations\nin Rome, connected by their object with institutions of every kind,\nsanitary, corrective, etc., they were very careful never to interfere\nwith the regulations of such establishments; and consequently, by minding\ntheir own business, they were not in the way of the officials, but, on\nthe contrary, were looked upon as valuable assistants. The Society of S.\nVincent of Paul was started in Rome in 1842 by the late venerable Father\nde Ravignan, S.J. It counted twenty-eight conferences and one thousand\nactive members, clergy and laymen, titled folks and trades-people all\nworking harmoniously together. About $2,100 was annually dispensed by the\nsociety. The Congregation of Ladies was founded in 1853 by Monsignor--now\nCardinal--Borromeo to give work, especially needle-work, to young women\nout of employment. A great many ecclesiastical vestments were thus made\nunder the direction of the ladies, and either sent as presents to poor\nmissions, or sold, for what they would bring, at the annual fair held for\nthe purpose of disposing of them.\n\nThere were seven public hospitals in Rome, under the immediate direction\nof a general board of administration composed of twelve members, of whom\nthree belonged to the clergy and the rest to the laity. The oldest,\nlargest, and best-appointed institution of this kind was Santo Spirito,\nsituated in the Leonine quarter of the city, on the border of the Tiber.\nIts site has been occupied by a charitable institution ever since A.D.\n728; the earliest building having been founded there for his countrymen\nby Ina, King of Wessex. For this reason the whole pile of buildings is\ncalled Santo Spirito _in Saxia_--_i.e._, in the quarter of the (West)\nSaxons. There are three distinct establishments under the administration\nof Santo Spirito--viz., the hospital itself, the Foundling Hospital,\nand the Lunatic Asylum. The first was founded by Pope Innocent III.\nin 1198, the Saxons having abandoned this locality for a more central\nposition--the present S. Thomas-of-the-English. It has received since\nthen many additions, until it has assumed the enormous proportions that\nwe now admire. Every improvement was made to keep pace with the advance\nof hygienic knowledge. This hospital was for men only. It had 1,616\nbeds and an annual average of 14,000 patients. The wards were twelve\nin number, in which the cleanliness was refreshing, the ventilation\nexcellent, and the water-supply pure and abundant. The principal parts\nof the exterior, and some of the interior parts of the building, were\nby distinguished architects; while some of the wards had their ceilings\nand upper walls painted in fresco with scenes from Sacred Scripture,\nsuch as the sufferings of Job and the miraculous cures made by our Lord.\nNot only the eye but the ear too of the poor patients was pleased; for\nthree times a week they were entertained with organ music from a lofty\nchoir erected at one end of the largest wards. The spiritual care of\nthe sick was perfect; it was impossible for any one to die without the\nrites of the church. In the centre of every ward there was a fixed\naltar, upon which Mass was said daily. The Confraternity of Santo\nSpirito, composed of clergy and laymen, assisted the regular ministers of\nreligion in attendance day and night. These volunteers brought flowers\nto the patients, read to them, prepared them for confession and other\nsacraments, and disposed them to die a good death, besides performing for\nthem the most menial services.\n\nWe remember to have read a letter addressed to the New York _Post_ by\nan eminent Protestant clergyman of New York, in which, after describing\nthis institution (then under papal rule), he said that he could not\nspeak too highly of the excellent attendance the patients received from\nthe kind-hearted religious who were stationed there, and added that if\never he had to come to a hospital, he hoped it would be Santo Spirito.\nThe Foundling Hospital was opened by Pope Innocent III.; and the Lunatic\nAsylum, for both sexes, was founded in 1548 by three Spaniards, a priest\nand two laymen. It was called the House of Our Lady of Mercy. A fine\ngarden on the Janiculum Hill was attached to it for the recreation of\nthe patients. We do not know how it is conducted since it has changed\nhands, but formerly it was managed on the system of kindness towards\neven the fiercest madmen, using only so much restraint as was positively\nnecessary. It was then under the care of religious. The Hospital of the\nSantissimo Salvatore, near St. John of Lateran, was founded in 1236 by\na Cardinal Colonna. It was for women only. Another Cardinal Colonna\nfounded the Hospital of S. James, for incurables, in 1339. Our Lady\nof Consolation was a fine hospital near the Forum for the maimed and\nwounded; while San Gallicano, on the other side of the river, was for\nfevers and skin-diseases. San Rocco was a small lying-in hospital, with\naccommodation for 26 women. It was founded at the beginning of the XVIIth\ncentury by a Cardinal Salviati. The most delicate precautions were always\nused there to save any sense of honor that might still cling to a victim\nof frailty. Guilt could at least blush unnoticed. The Santissima Trinit\u00e0\nwas founded by S. Philip Neri for convalescents of both sexes and for\npoor pilgrims. It could lodge 488 patients, had beds for 500 pilgrims,\nand table-room for 900. In the great refectory of this building the\nmembers of the confraternity came on every Holy Thursday evening to wash\nthe feet of the pilgrims and wait on them at table. Of course the two\nsexes were in different parts of the building, and each was attended by\nits own. We remember the delightful ardor with which the late Cardinal\nBarnabo on such occasions would turn up his sleeves, twitch his apron,\nand, going down on his knees, give some poor man\u2019s feet a better washing\nthan they had had before in a year. There was much raising of soap-suds\nin that wooden tub, and a real, earnest kiss on one foot when the\nwashing was over. The Hospital of S. John Calabyta was so called from a\nSpaniard, the founder of the Brothers of Charity (commonly called the\n_Benfratelli_), who attended it. It was opened in 1581, on the island of\nthe Tiber; and by a coincidence then perhaps unknown, but since fully\nbrought to light, it stood on the very site of an _asclepium_ which the\npriests of Esculapius kept near their god\u2019s temple two thousand years\nago. The Hospital of Santa Galla was founded in 1650 by the princely\nOdescalchi family. It gave a night asylum to homeless men. There were\n224 beds, distributed through nine dormitories. Another night refuge,\ncalled S. Aloysius, was founded about the year 1730 by Father Galluzzi,\na Florentine Jesuit. It is for women. We can get some idea of the great\ncharity such refuges are when we know that during the year ending\nDecember, 1869, no less than 135,000 persons sought a resting-place at\nnight in the station-houses of New York. Besides these public hospitals,\nalmost every Catholic country had a private national one. One of\nthe picturesque and not least of the Roman charities used to be the\ndaily distribution of food at the gates of monasteries, convents, and\nnunneries, the portals of palaces, and the doors of seminaries, colleges,\nand boarding-schools.\n\nWith all this liberality, there was still some room for hand-alms. There\nused to be beggars in Rome; assassins have taken their place. Under the\npapal government a limit was put to beggary, and we have never seen the\n_sturdy_ beggar who figures so maliciously in some Protestant books about\nRome. Beggary may become an evil; it is not a crime. We confess to liking\nbeggars if they are not too numerous and importunate. Few scenes have\nseemed to us more venerable, picturesque, and Christian than the double\nrow of beggars, with their sores and crippled limbs, their sticks and\nbattered hats and outstretched hands, imploring _per \u00e8 amore di Dio_, as\nwe pass between them to the church or cemetery or other holy place on\nfeast-day afternoons in Rome.\n\nThe Hospice of San Michele was founded in 1686 by a Cardinal Odescalchi.\nIn this asylum nearly 800 persons used to be received. They were divided\ninto four classes--old men, old women, boys, and girls. The institution\nhad an annual endowment of $52,000; but some years ago the aged of\nboth sexes were removed elsewhere, and their part of the building was\nconverted into a house of correction for women and juvenile offenders.\nThe hospice, in its strict sense, now consists of a House of Industry for\nchildren of both sexes, and a gratuitous school of the industrial and\nfine arts. The carping author of Murray\u2019s _Hand-book_ (1869), although\nhe acknowledges that this school of arts has produced some eminent\nmen, says that \u201cthe education of the boys might be turned, perhaps, to\nmore practically useful objects!\u201d As if, forsooth, it were a lesser\ncharity, in the great home of the arts that Rome is, to help a poor\nlad of talent to become an architect, for instance, than to make him a\ntailor! The orphan asylum of Saint Mary of the Angels was near the Baths\nof Diocletian. The boys numbered 450, under the care of male religious,\nand the girls 500, under that of female religious. The institution\nreceived annually $38,000 from the Commission of Subsidies. In the\nsame quarter of the city is the Deaf and Dumb Asylum. It was opened in\n1794 by Father Silvestri, who had been sent to Paris by Pope Pius VI.\nto receive instruction from the celebrated Abb\u00e9 de l\u2019Ep\u00e9e in the art\nof teaching this class of unfortunates. Visitors to the house are made\nwelcome, and are often invited to test the knowledge of the pupils by\nasking them questions on the blackboard. The first time we called there\nwas in 1862, and, having asked one of the boys, taken at hazard, who\nwas the first President of the United States, we were a little surprised\n(having thought to puzzle him) to have the correct answer at once. The\nHouse of Converts was an establishment where persons who wished to become\nCatholics were received for a time and instructed in the faith. It was\nfounded in 1600 by a priest of the Oratory. Other interesting hospices\nwere the Widows\u2019 Home and the House for Aged Priests, where the veterans\nof the Roman clergy could end their days in honorable comfort. A peculiar\nclass of Roman charities were the conservatories. They were twenty-three\nin number. Some of them were for penance, others for change of life,\nand others again to shield unprotected virtue. The Infant Asylum was a\nflourishing institution directed by female religious. Even fashion was\nmade to do something for it, since a noble lady years ago suggested that\nthe members of good society in Rome should dispense with their mutual New\nYear visits on condition of giving three pauls (a small sum of money) to\nthe asylum, and having their names published in the official journal.\n\nThe Society for the Propagation of the Faith was established at Rome in\n1834. No city of the size and population of Rome was better supplied with\nfree schools of every description. The night-schools were first opened in\n1819. In connection with studies we should mention the liberal presents\nof books, vestments, and liturgical articles made to young missionaries\nby the Propaganda, and the books on learned subjects, which, being\nprinted at government expense, were sold at a reduced price to students\nof every nation on showing a certificate from one of their professors.\n\nIt is written (Matthew iv. 4), \u201cMan liveth not by bread alone\u201d; and\nconsequently Rome multiplied those pious houses of retreat in which\nthe soul could rest for a time from the cares of life. There were five\nsuch establishments in the city. Another great Roman charity was the\nmissions preached by the Jesuits and Franciscans in and around the city,\nthus bringing the truths of the Gospel constantly before the people. We\nhave given but a brief sketch of our subject. It has been treated in\na complete manner by Cardinal Morichini in a new and revised edition\nof his interesting work entitled _Degl\u2019 Istituti di Pubblica Carit\u00e0 ed\nistruzione primaria e delle prigioni in Roma_.\n\n\nSONG.\n\n                     I.\n\n    When in the long and lonely night\n      That brings no slumber to mine eyes,\n    Through dark returns the vision bright,\n      The face and form that day denies,\n    And, like a solitary star\n      Revealed above a stormy sea,\n    Thy spirit soothes me from afar,\n      I mourn thee not, nor weep for thee.\n\n                    II.\n\n    And when I watch the dawn afar\n      Awake her sleeping sister night,\n    And overhead the dying star\n      Return into her parent light,\n    And in the breaking day discern\n      The glimmer of eternity,\n    The goal, the peace, for which I yearn,\n      I mourn thee not, nor weep for thee.\n\n                    III.\n\n    And when the melancholy eve\n      Brings back the hour akin to tears,\n    And through the twilight I perceive\n      The settled, strong, abiding spheres,\n    And gently on my heart opprest\n      Like dew descending silently,\n    There falls a portion of thy rest,\n      I mourn thee not, nor weep for thee.\n\n                    IV.\n\n    But when once more the stir of life\n      Makes all these busy highways loud,\n    And fretted by the jarring strife,\n      The noisy humors of the crowd,\n    The subtle, sweet suggestions born\n      Of silence fail, and memory\n    Consoles no more, I mourn, I mourn\n      That thou art not, and weep for thee.\n\n\nPROGRESS _VERSUS_ GROOVES.\n\n\u201cHow do you like your new minister, Mrs. B.?\u201d\n\n\u201cVery much indeed! He is progressive--is not fixed in any of the old\ngrooves. His mind does not run in those ancient ruts that forbid advance\nand baffle modern thought.\u201d\n\nHow strangely this colloquy between a Methodist and Congregationalist\nfell upon the Catholic ear of their mutual friend! Comment, however,\nwas discreetly forborne. That friend had learned in the very infancy\nof a Catholic life, beginning at the mature age of thirty-five by the\nregister, the futility of controversy, and that the pearls of truth\nare too precious to be carelessly thrown away. Strangely enough these\nexpressions affected one whose habits of thought and conduct had been\nsilently forming in accordance with that life for twenty-five years!\n\n\u201cOld grooves\u201d indeed! Lucifer found them utterly irreconcilable with his\n\u201cadvanced ideas\u201d in heaven. Confessedly, the success of his progressive\nenterprise was not encouraging; but the battle and its results\nestablished his unquestionable claim as captain and leader of the sons\nand daughters of progress for all time.\n\n\u201cModern thought!\u201d So far as we can discover, the best it has done for its\ndisciples is to prove to them beyond a doubt that their dear grandpapa of\neld was an ape, and that they, when they shake off this mortal coil, will\nbe gathered to their ancestors in common with their brethren, the modern\nmonkeys!\n\nWe, who believe the authentic history of the past, can see in this\nboasted new railroad, upon which the freight of modern science and\nadvanced civilization is borne, a pathway as old as the time when our\ndear, credulous old grandmamma received a morning call in Eden from\nthe oldest brother of these scientific gentlemen, who convinced her in\nthe course of their pleasant chat that poor deluded Adam and herself\nwere fastened in the most irrational rut--a perfect outrage upon common\nsense--and that a very slight repast upon \u201cadvanced ideas\u201d would lift\nthem out of it, emancipate thought, and make them as \u201cgods knowing good\nand evil.\u201d\n\nWe all know how well they succeeded in their first step on the highway\nof progress. They lost a beautiful garden, it is true, of limited\ndimensions, but they gained a world of boundless space, and a freedom\nof thought and action which was first successfully and completely\nillustrated by their first-born son when he murmured, \u201cWhy?\u201d and killed\nhis brother, who was evidently attached to grooves.\n\nThey left the heritage thus gained to a large proportion of their\ndescendants. A minority of them, it is true, prefer to \u201cseek out the old\npaths\u201d of obedience to the commands of God, \u201cand walk therein\u201d--to shun\nthe \u201cbroad road\u201d along which modern civilization is rolling its countless\nthrongs, and to \u201center in at the strait gate\u201d which leadeth to life\neternal, to the great disgust of the disciples of modern thought, who\nspare no effort to prove their exceeding liberality by persecuting such\nwith derision, calumny, chains, imprisonment, and death!\n\nThank God this is all they can do! Rage they never so furiously, He that\nsitteth in the heavens laughs them to scorn. He will defend and preserve\nhis anointed against all the combined hosts of Bismarcks, kaisers, and\nrobber princes, who illustrate the liberal ideas that govern the march of\nmodern civilization.\n\n\nTRACES OF AN INDIAN LEGEND.\n\nIt has been said of our energetic republic that it had no infancy; that\nit sprang into a vigorous and complete existence at a bound. However\ntrue this may be with respect to its material structure in the hands of\nthe remarkable men who first planted colonies on American soil, there is\nanother view of the picture which presents widely different features.\n\nTo the eye of the Christian philosopher the religious and moral aspects\nof our country to this day afford subjects for anything but satisfactory\nreflection.\n\nThe pioneers of civilization along the northeastern borders of our\nterritory were--whatever their professions to the contrary may have\nbeen--worshippers of material prosperity. The worship of God and the\nclaims of religion were indeed important and proper in their place for\na portion of the seventh part of each week, but the moment they came in\nconflict with Mammon there was little question which should yield. It was\nnot to be expected that the saints whom the Lord had specially chosen,\nand unto whom \u201cHe had given the earth,\u201d should be diverted from their\npursuit of the great \u201cmain chance\u201d by precepts which were applicable\nonly to ordinary and less favored mortals.\n\nWhatever progress the church has yet achieved in this region is the\nresult of appalling labors and sacrifices. The foundation was laid in\nsufferings, fatigues, and perils, from the contemplation of which the\nself-indulgent Christians of our day would shrink aghast; laid long\nbefore the so-called Pilgrim fathers landed at Plymouth, while the\nsavage still roamed through the unbroken forests of New England, and\ndisputed dominion with wild beasts hardly more dangerous than himself\nto the messengers of the Gospel of peace. Amid the wonderful beauty and\nvariety of the panorama which her mountains, lakes, and valleys unfold to\nthe tourists and pleasure-seekers of to-day, there is scarcely a scene\nthat has not been traversed in weariness, in hunger, and cold by those\ndauntless servants of God who first proclaimed the tidings of salvation\nto the wild children of the forest.\n\nFutile, and even foolish, as the toils of these early fathers may appear\nto the materialist and utilitarian of this day, because of their tardy\nand apparently inadequate fruits, the designs of Heaven have not been\nfrustrated, and its light reveals a very different history. We read\ntherein how He who causes \u201cthe weak and foolish things of this world\nto confound the wise\u201d and to proclaim his praise, sent his ministering\nangels to hover over the pathway moistened with the tears and blood of\nhis servants, to note each footprint through the dreary wilderness, to\ngather the incense of each prayer, and to mark each pain and peril of\ntheir sacrificial march for record in the archives of eternity, as an\nearnest for future good to those regions, and as enduring testimony\nbefore the high court of heaven to their fitness for the crown--far\nsurpassing in glory all earthly crowns--which they won by their burning\nzeal and unwavering patience.\n\nNor were their efforts in the field of their earthly labors so vain as\nsome of our modern historians would have us suppose. Prayer and exertion\nin the service of God are never fruitless. If it is true--as the great\nChamplain was wont to say--\u201cthat one soul gained for heaven was of more\nvalue than the conquest of an empire for France,\u201d they gained from the\nroving tribes of the desert many sincere and steadfast adherents to\nthe faith--whose names are recorded in the book of life--and scattered\nbenedictions along their painful pathway which have shed their beneficent\ninfluences over the scenes they traversed down to the present day. We\nhope to illustrate and sustain this assertion in the following sketch,\ndrawn from our memory, of traditions--preserved among the Indians of St.\nRegis--to which we listened many years ago.\n\nScattered along the southern shores of the St. Lawrence, from the foot\nof Lake Ontario to the village of St. Regis--while St. Lawrence County,\nN.Y., was yet for the most part covered with primitive forests--were\nmany encampments of these Indians. That whole region abounded in game\nand furnished favorite hunting-grounds, to which they claimed a right\nin connection with their special reservation in the more immediate\nneighborhood of St. Regis. At each of these encampments an aged Indian\nwas sure to be found, who, without the title of chief, was a kind of\npatriarch among his younger brethren, exercised great influence in their\naffairs, and was treated with profound respect by them. He was their\numpire in all disputes, their adviser in doubtful matters, and the\n\u201cleader of prayer\u201d in his lodge--always the largest and most commodious\nof the wigwams, and the one in which they assembled for their devotions.\n\nOne of the oldest of these sages--called \u201cCaptain Simon\u201d--must have\nbeen much more than a hundred years of age, judging from the dates of\nevents of which he retained a distinct remembrance as an eye-witness,\nand which occurred in the course of the French and Indian wars, over a\ncentury previous to the time when we listened to his recital. His head\nwas an inexhaustible store-house of traditions and legends, many of them\nrelating to the discovery and settlement of Canada and the labors of the\nfirst missionaries. He was very fond of young people, and, gathering the\nchildren of the white settlers around him, he would hold them spell-bound\nfor hours while he related stories of those early days in his peculiarly\nimpressive and figurative language. He claimed that his grandfather was\none of the party who accompanied Champlain on his first voyage through\nthe lake which bears his name, and that he afterwards acted as guide and\ninterpreter to the first priest who visited the valley of Lake Champlain.\nWhen he heard that we were from Vermont, he asked for a piece of chalk,\nand, marking on the floor an outline of the lake and the course of the\nRichelieu River, he proceeded to narrate the voyage of Champlain and his\nparty in the summer of 1609.\n\nEmbosomed within the placid waters of Lake Champlain, near its northern\nextremity, is a lovely island, of which Vermonters boast as the \u201cGem\nof the Lake,\u201d so remarkable is it for beauty and fertility. Here the\nparty landed, and Champlain, erecting a cross, claimed the lake--to\nwhich he gave his own name--its islands and shores, for France and for\nChristianity. Half a century later one La Motte built a fort upon this\nisland, which he named St. Anne, giving the island his own name; and it\nis called the Isle La Motte to this day.\n\nChamplain explored the lake as far as Crown Point, where they encountered\nand defeated a band of Iroquois Indians; but not deeming it wise to\nadventure further at that time so near such powerful foes, they returned\ndown the lake without delay. This encounter was the first act of that\nsavage drama which so long desolated New France, and threatened it with\nentire destruction.\n\nSix years later, in the summer of 1615, another party landed on the Isle\nLa Motte. It was made up of a missionary of the Recollect Order and his\nescort of Indians in two bark canoes. The grandfather of our narrator\nwas one of these. They remained a day or two on the island, and the\nmissionary offered the Christian sacrifice for the first time within the\nterritory now embraced by the State of Vermont.[97]\n\nThe object of his journey was to visit scattered bands of hunters who\nwere encamped along the eastern shore of the lake and its vicinity, at\ndifferent points in the valley of Lake Champlain.\n\nLeaving the Isle La Motte, they steered for the mouth of the Missisque\nRiver, which they navigated up to the first falls, where the village\nof Swanton now stands. Here they found a flourishing encampment, and\nremained some days for the purpose of instructing the Indians in the\ntruths of Christianity. The missionary found that some dim reports of the\nChristian teachers had preceded him, and prepared the way for his work,\nthe success of which encouraged and consoled him.\n\nFrom that place they proceeded on foot for some miles to the base of\na line of hills, sketched by the narrator, and corresponding to those\neast of St. Alban\u2019s. Here they also remained several days, the reverend\nfather toiling early and late in the duties of his vocation. He was now\nsurrounded by a crowd of eager listeners; for not only did his former\naudience accompany him, but a goodly number from the surrounding hills\nand from Bellamaqueau and Maquam Bays--distant three and five miles\nrespectively--flocked to hear his instructions and to be taught \u201cThe\nPrayer\u201d revealed to them by the Great Spirit through his servant.\n\nHere they brought to him also the beautiful Indian maiden, of whom\nher race cherish the legend that her declining health led her people\nto bring her to these hills, hoping the change from the low lands and\ndamp atmosphere of her home to the bracing mountain air might prove\nbeneficial. Instead of finding relief, she only declined the more\nrapidly, so that she was soon unable to be carried back. She, too, had\nheard whispers of holy men who had come to teach her race the path of\nheaven, and wistfully she had sighed daily, as she repeated the yearning\naspiration: \u201cOh! if the Great Spirit would but let me see and listen to\nhis messenger, I could die in peace!\u201d\n\nThe Indians, to this day, tell with what joy she listened to his words;\nhow eagerly she prayed that she might receive the regenerating waters;\nhow, when they were poured upon her head, her countenance became bright\nwith the light of heaven; and how her departure soon after was full of\njoy and peace. Her burial-place was made on one of those eastern hills.\nIt was the first Christian burial for one of her race in Vermont, and her\npeople thought her intercessions would not fail to bring down blessings\nupon all that region.\n\nPursuing their journey by the trail of those who had preceded them\nthrough the dense wilderness--for our aborigines were skilled in tracing\nlines of communication between their different camps with extreme\ndirectness by aid of their close observations of nature--the party\narrived at another camp on the bank of a river discovered by Champlain,\nand named by him the Lamoille.\n\nAt this place an Indian youth came to the missionary in great distress.\nHis young squaw was lying at the point of death, and the medicine men\nand women could do nothing more for her. Would not \u201cThe Prayer\u201d restore\nher? Oh! if it would give her back to him, he, with all his family, would\ngratefully embrace it! The reverend father went to her, and, when he\nfound she desired it, baptized her and her new-born infant in preparation\nfor the death which seemed inevitable. Contrary to all expectation, she\nrecovered. Her husband and his family, together with her father\u2019s family,\nafterwards became joyful believers.\n\nAfter some days the Indians of that place accompanied the party in\ncanoes to the lake and along its shores to the mouth of the Winooski\nRiver, which they ascended as far as the first falls. Here they remained\nmany days, during which time the missionary visited the present site of\nBurlington, and held two missions there--one at a camp on the summit of\na hill overlooking the valley of the Winooski as it approaches the lake,\nand one near the lake shore.\n\nIf Vermonters who are familiar with the magnificent scenery which\nsurrounds the \u201cqueen city\u201d of their State never visit the place without\nbeing filled with new admiration at the infinite variety and beauty\nof the pictures it unfolds from every changing point of view, we may\nimagine how strangers must be impressed who gaze upon them for the first\ntime. Not less picturesque, and if possible even more striking, were its\nfeatures when, crowned by luxuriant native forests and fanned by gentle\nbreezes from the lake, it reposed within the embrace of that glorious\namphitheatre of hills, in the undisturbed tranquillity of nature. It was\nnot strange that the natives were drawn by its unparalleled attractions\nto congregate there in such numbers as to require from their reverend\nvisitor a longer time than he gave to any other place in this series of\nmissions.\n\nIn the course of three months the party had traversed the eastern border\nof the lake to the last encampment near its southern extremity. This was\nmerely a summer camp, as the vicinity of the Iroquois made it unsafe to\nremain there longer than through that portion of the season when the\nMohawks and their confederates were too busy with their own pursuits\namong the hills of the Adirondacks to give much heed to their neighbors.\nAt the close of the mission this camp was broken up for that season, and\nits occupants joined the reverend father and his party in canoes as far\nas the mouth of the Winooski River, whence men were sent to convey them\nto the starting-point at Swanton, where their own canoes were left.\n\nOn their way thither they lingered for some days on Grand Isle, then,\nas now, a vision of loveliness to all admirers of the beautiful, and a\nfavorite annual resort of the natives for the period during which they\nwere safe from the attacks of their merciless foes.\n\nAt every mission thus opened the missionary promised to return himself,\nor send one of his associates, to renew his instructions and minister to\nthe spiritual wants of his converts. This promise was fulfilled as far as\nthe limited number of laborers in this vineyard permitted. The brave and\nuntiring sons of Loyola afterwards entered the field, and proved worthy\nsuccessors of the zealous Recollects who first announced the Gospel\nmessage in those wilds.\n\nOur Indian narrator, when he had finished his recital of missionary\nlabors in this and other regions, would always add with marked emphasis:\n\u201cAnd it is firmly believed by our people, among all their tribes, that\nupon every spot where the Christian sacrifice was first offered a\nCatholic church will one day be placed.\u201d\n\nThere seemed to his Protestant listeners but slight probability of this\nprediction ever being fulfilled in Vermont--settled for the most part\nby the straitest sect of the Puritans--as there was not then, or until\ntwenty years from that time, a Catholic priest or church in the State.\nYet at this writing--and the fact has presented itself before us with\nstartling effect while tracing these imperfect reminiscences--there is at\nevery point indicated in his narrative a fine church, and in many places\nflourishing Catholic schools.\n\nThe labors of an eminent servant of God--to whom Vermont cannot be too\ngrateful--have been particularly blessed on the Isle La Motte, where the\nbanner of the cross was first unfurled within her territory. A beautiful\nchurch has been erected there with a thriving congregation and school.\n\nMuch as remains to be accomplished in this field, when we reflect upon\nall that has been done since the first quarter of this XIXth century,\nwe can see great cause for encouragement and gratitude to Almighty God,\nwho has not withheld his blessing from the work of his servants of the\nearliest and the latest times. \u201cGoing on their way, they went and wept,\nscattering the seed,\u201d the fruits of which we are now gathering into\nsheaves with great joy.\n\n\nFINDING A LOST CHURCH.\n\nThe present age is pre-eminently one of discovery. In spite of the wise\nman\u2019s saying, \u201cNothing under the sun is new,\u201d mankind, wiser in its\nown conceit than the wise man, insists upon the newness of its every\nproduction. In Rome a different spirit prevails. While the new is not\nentirely neglected, the great delight of many Romans is to find something\nold--the older the better. They live so much in the past that they follow\nwith an eager interest the various steps taken to enlighten them on the\nlives and deeds of the men of old, their ancestors on the soil and in the\nfaith which they profess.\n\nForemost in the pursuit and discovery of Christian antiquities stands the\nCommendatore de Rossi. It has been said that poets are born, not made: De\nRossi\u2019s ability as a Christian arch\u00e6ologist seems to be more the gift of\nnature than the result of study. With unwearied industry, with profound\nknowledge, with an almost unerring judgment, he finds out and illustrates\nthe remains of Christian antiquity scattered around Rome--not on the\nsurface, but in the deeps of the earth. The latest and one of the most\nimportant discoveries he has made forms the subject of the present paper.\n\nTor Marancia is a name not much known out of Rome, yet it designates\na place which was of some importance in its day. The traveller who\ncontemplates the works of ancient art collected in the Vatican Museum\ncannot fail to be interested in two very beautiful black and white\nmosaics which form the floor of the gallery known as the Braccio\nNuovo. Mythological fables and Homeric legends are represented in\nthese pavements, and they come from Tor Marancia. In the Gallery of\nthe Candelabra, and in the library of the same museum, a collection of\nfrescos, busts, statues, and mosaics of excellent workmanship and of\ngreat interest, likewise discovered at Tor Marancia, are exhibited. All\nthese objects were found at that place in the course of excavations made\nthere in the reign of Pope Pius VI. In ancient times a villa stood at Tor\nMarancia, of which these formed the decorations.\n\nAt this spot also is found the entrance to a very extensive catacomb\nwhich contains three floors, and diverges in long, winding ways under\nthe soil of the Campagna. The catacomb has been called by the name of\nS. Domitilla, on evidence found during the excavations made there. This\nlady was a member of the Flavian family, which gave three occupants to\nthe imperial throne--Vespasian, Titus, and Domitian. It is a well-known\nfact that those early Christians who were blessed with wealth were in\nthe habit of interring the bodies of their brethren, of saints, and of\nmartyrs within the enclosure of their villas. Such villas were situated\noutside the limits of the city; and hence we find the entrance to every\ncatacomb beyond the city walls, with the solitary exception of the\ncatacomb or grottos of the Vatican, and the entrances to all of them are\nfound in sites ascertained to have been the property of Christians. It\nmight be easy to multiply instances of this, taking the facts from the\n_Acts of the Martyrs,_ wherein the places of sepulture are indicated, and\nthe names of those who bestowed the last rites upon the dead recorded.\n\nDomitilla, or Flavia Domitilla, as she is sometimes termed, was a niece\nof the consul Flavius Clemens, who was cousin of the Emperor Domitian.\nShe was a Christian, having been baptized by S. Peter; and, after a life\nspent in charitable works, amongst which was the burial of the martyrs\n\u201cin a catacomb near the Ardeatine Way,\u201d the same of which we write, she\nalso suffered martyrdom. Her two servants, Nereus and Achilleus, were put\nto death previously, and their bodies were placed in this catacomb by\nDomitilla.\n\nIn 1854, while De Rossi was pursuing his researches in the catacomb\nof S. Domitilla, he came upon the foundations of a building which\npierced the second floor of the subterranean cemetery. This was a most\nunusual occurrence, and the eminent arch\u00e6ologist eagerly followed up\nhis discovery. He found a marble slab which recorded the giving up of a\nspace for burial \u201cEx indulgentia Flavi\u00e6 Domitill\u00e6\u201d--a confirmation of the\nproprietorship of the place.\n\nDe Rossi naturally concluded that the building thus incorporated in\nthe Christian cemetery was of great importance. The _loculi_, or\nresting-places of the dead, were very large, which indicates great\nantiquity; the inscriptions likewise were of a very early date; and\n_sarcophagi_ adorned with lions\u2019 heads, marble columns overturned, and\nother signs, led the discoverer to the conclusion that he had come upon\nthe foundations of a church constructed within this cemetery. In the\ncourse of his excavations he had penetrated into the open air, and found\nhimself in a hollow depression formed by the falling in of the surface.\nAmongst other objects discovered were four marble slabs containing\nepitaphs furnished with consular dates of the years 335, 380, 399, and\n406; and also a form of contract by which the right of burial in the\nedifice was sold. The proprietor of the land above the cemetery opposed\nthe continuance of the excavations, and the discoverer, obliged to\nwithdraw, covered up the materials already found with earth, and turned\nhis attention to other recently-discovered objects in another place.\n\nTwenty years after, in 1874, Monsignor de Merode purchased the land\noverlying the catacomb and church, and the excavations were again\nundertaken under most favorable circumstances. In vain did the Commission\nof Sacred Arch\u00e6ology, under De Rossi\u2019s guidance, seek for the four marble\ncolumns and the two beautiful _sarcophagi_ that had been seen there\ntwenty years before. The proprietor is supposed to have carried them\naway. But they found instead the floor of the church or basilica, with\nits three naves, the bases of the four columns, the apse, the place where\nthe altar stood, and the space occupied by the episcopal chair behind\nthe altar. The basilica is as large as that of San Lorenzo beyond the\nwalls. The left aisle is sixty feet long by thirteen broad; the central\nnave is twenty-four feet broad; and the right aisle, which is not yet\nentirely unearthed, is considered to be of the same breadth as the first\nmentioned; the greatest depth of the apse is fifteen feet. \u201cThe church,\u201d\nsays De Rossi, \u201cis of gigantic proportions for an edifice constructed in\nthe bowels of the earth and at the deep level of the second floor of a\nsubterranean cemetery.\u201d\n\nHere, then, was a basilica or church discovered in the midst of a\ncatacomb. That the latter belonged to Flavia Domitilla was well known;\nand yet another proof, which illustrates arch\u00e6ological difficulties and\nthe method of overcoming them, was found here. It was a broken slab of\nmarble containing a portion of an inscription:\n\n                                ......RVM\n                                .....ORVM\n                                   (*)\n\nand having the image of an anchor at the point(*). It was concluded\nthat the anchor was placed at an equal distance from both ends of the\ninscription, and the discoverer, with the knowledge he already has of the\nplace, supplied the letters which he considered wanting to the completion\nof the inscription, and thus produced the words,\n\n                                SEPVLCRVM\n                                FLAVIORVM\n                                    *\n\n(sepulchre of the Flavii). This reading is very probably the right one,\nand its probability is greatly strengthened by the position of the\nanchor, since the full inscription, as here shown, leaves that sign still\nin the centre.\n\nBut to find the name borne by these ruins when the building of which\nthey are the sole remnants was fresh and new presented a task to their\ndiscoverer. It was necessary to seek in ancient works--pontifical books\nand codices--for some account of a basilica on the Ardeatine Way.\nIn the life of S. Gregory the Great it is related that this pontiff\ndelivered one of his homilies \u201cin the cemetery of S. Domitilla on the\nArdeatine Way, at the Church of S. Petronilla.\u201d The pontifical books and\ncodices, although they differ in details--some saying in the cemetery\nof Domitilla, and others in that of Nereus and Archilleus, which is\nthe same place under another name--agree in the principal fact. On the\nsmall remnant of plaster remaining on the wall of the apse an unskilled\nhand had traced a _graffito_, or drawing scratched on the plaster with\na pointed instrument, somewhat resembling those found on the walls of\nPompeii. This _graffito_ represents a bishop, vested in episcopal robes,\nseated in a chair, in the act of delivering a discourse. This rude\nsketch of a bishop so occupied, taken in conjunction with the fact that\nS. Gregory did here deliver one of his homilies, is a link in the chain\nof evidence which identifies the ruin with the ancient basilica of S.\nPetronilla.\n\nBut a still more convincing testimony was forthcoming. A large fragment\nof marble, containing a portion of what appeared to have been a long\ninscription, was found in the apse. There were but few complete words in\nthis fragment, and these were chiefly the termination of lines in what\nseemed to have been a metrical composition. Odd words, selected at random\nfrom a poem, standing alone, devoid of preceding or succeeding words,\nmight not seem to furnish very rich materials even to an arch\u00e6ologist.\nThese wandering words were, however, recognized to be the terminal words\nof a poem or eulogium written by Pope Damasus in honor of the martyrs\nNereus and Achilleus. Now the connection between this metrical eulogium\nand the basilica was to be sought for. In the Einsiedeln Codex the place\nwhere this poem was to be seen is stated to have been the sepulchre of\nSS. Nereus and Achilleus, on the Appian Way, at S. Petronilla. The poem,\nor rather this fragment of it, being found at this sepulchre, it was\nnatural to conclude that the church was that of S. Petronilla. The Appian\nWay is the great high-road from which the Ardeatine Way branches off near\nthis spot.\n\nAgain, the basilica of S. Petronilla was frequented by pilgrims from\nmany nations in the VIIth century. Among these were Gauls, Germans, and\nBritons. In their itineraries of the martyrs\u2019 sepulchres in Rome, and in\nthe collection of the metrical epigraphs written at these places, it is\nproved that the original name of this church was that of S. Petronilla.\n\u201cNear the Ardeatine Way is the Church of S. Petronilla,\u201d say these old\ndocuments, and they likewise inform us that S. Nereus and S. Achilleus\nand S. Petronilla herself are buried there: \u201cJuxta viam Ardeatinam\necclesia est S. Petronill\u00e6; ibi quoque S. Nereus et S. Achilleus sunt et\nipsa Petronilla sepulti.\u201d\n\nA second fragment of the slab containing the metrical composition\nof Pope Damasus has since been found, and this goes to confirm the\ntestimony furnished by the former fragment. In the following copy of\nthe inscription the capital letters on the right-hand side are those\non the fragment first discovered; those on the left belong to the\nrecently-discovered portion:\n\n    \u201cNEREUS ET ACHILLEUS MARTYRES.\n\n    \u201cMiliti\u00e6 nomen dederant s\u00e6vumQ gerebant\n    Officium pariter spectantes jussA TYRanni\n    Pr\u00e6ceptis pulsante metu serviRE PARati\n    Mira fides rerum subito posueRE FVRORem\n    COnversi fugiunt ducis impia castrA RELINQVVNT\n    PROiiciunt clypeos faleras telAQ. CRVENTA\n    CONFEssi gaudent Christi portaRE TRIVMFOS\n    CREDITe per Damasum possit quid GLORIA\n    CHRISTI.\u201d\n\nThe date of the church was likewise ascertained. It is known that Pope\nDamasus, the great preserver of the martyrs\u2019 graves, would never allow\nthe Christian cemeteries to be disturbed for the purpose of building\na church therein; and although he himself strongly desired that his\nremains should repose in one of these sacred places by the side of his\npredecessors, he abandoned this desire rather than remove the sacred\nashes of the dead. It may naturally be concluded, then, that this church\nwas built after his day--he died in 384--as were the churches of S.\nAgnes, S. Lawrence, and S. Alexander, all of which are beyond the city\nwalls and built in catacombs. The catacombs under the Church of S.\nPetronilla showed an inscription bearing the date of 390, and in the\nchurch itself a monumental slab with the date of 395 has been found. It\nis thus almost certain that between the highest date found _under_, and\nthe lowest date found _in_, the church--that is, between the years 390\nand 395--the basilica of S. Petronilla was constructed.\n\nFor about three centuries and a half this church was well frequented.\nWe have records of gifts sent to it, precious vestments, etc., by Pope\nGregory III., who reigned from 715 to 741. But in 755 the Longobards\ncame down upon Rome; they desecrated the churches and cemeteries around\nthe city, and then began the siege of Rome. After peace was made, the\npontiff of the period, Paul I., transferred the relics and remains of\nthe saints to safer custody, and the Church of S. Petronilla became\ndeserted. From unmistakable signs it seems that this desertion was\nconducted in a most regular manner, and that it was closed and despoiled\nof its precious objects. The door which entered the left aisle was found\nwalled up; the altar, the seats of the choir, the episcopal chair, and\nthe ambons or marble pulpits ware all removed and transported elsewhere.\nThe floor of the church, so far below the level of the surrounding\nsoil, formed a resting-place for the water which drained through the\nneighboring lands after rains had fallen, and this undoubtedly formed\nthe strongest reason for the abandonment of S. Petronilla. Nothing was\nleft in it but _sarcophagi_ and sepulchres, the pavements with their\nmarble epitaphs--so valuable to-day in revealing history--some columns\nwith their beautifully-carved capitals, which time or an earthquake has\noverturned and hidden within the dark bosom of the earth for more than a\nthousand years.\n\nThe hundred pilgrims who came from America, with a hundred new-found\nfriends, assembled on the 14th of June, 1874, to pray in that disentombed\nold church. They had come from a world unknown and undreamt of by the\npilgrims who had formerly knelt within these walls; and as they looked\naround on the wide and desolate Campagna, and on the monument of Cecilia\nMetella shining in the distance white and perfect, in spite of the\nnineteen centuries that have passed away since it received its inmate,\nand at the blue, changeless sky overhead, and then turned their eyes upon\nthe church, decorated that morning with festoons of green branches and\ngay flowers, the same as it may have been on other festive occasions a\nthousand years ago, they may have felt that time has effected almost as\nlittle change in the works of man as in those of nature, and that all\nthings in Rome partake of Rome\u2019s eternity.\n\n\nNEW PUBLICATIONS.\n\n    LE CULTE CATHOLIQUE OU EXPOSITION DE LA FOI DE L\u2019EGLISE\n    ROMAINE SUR LE CULTE DU AUX SAINTS ET A LEURS RELIQUES, A\n    LA BIENHEUREUSE VIERGE MARIE, AUX IMAGES, etc., en r\u00e9ponse\n    aux objections du Protestantisme, suivie d\u2019une dissertation\n    historique et critique sur le celibat du clerg\u00e9. Par l\u2019Abb\u00e9\n    Louis-Nazaire B\u00e9gin, Docteur en Th\u00e9ologie, Professor \u00e0 la\n    Facult\u00e9 de Th\u00e9ologie de l\u2019Universit\u00e9 Laval. Quebec: Typographie\n    d\u2019Augustin Cote et Cie. 1875.\n\n_Le Culte Catholique_ is another valuable addition to controversial\nliterature, by the author of _The Bible and the Rule of Faith_.\n\nIt is true that the days of controversy seem to be drawing to a close.\nThe Greek schism still holds itself aloof in sullen isolation; but the\ncontroversy is exhausted, and all that is left of a church has become the\nmere unfruitful appanage of a northern despotism.\n\nAs to Protestantism, it never had any positive existence as a confession.\nThree hundred years have exhausted its theological pretensions. As a\nreligion it has ceased to exist, and it lies buried beneath the weight of\nits own negations. The only formidable enemies of the church now are the\ndisowners both of Christ and God, and they seek her destruction because\nthey know that she alone offers an insuperable obstacle to the universal\natheism which they hope to bring about.\n\nUnder such circumstances works like Dr. B\u00e9gin\u2019s are chiefly useful for\nthe information of Catholics, and for the support they render to their\nfaith.\n\n_Le Culte Catholique_ is, the writer tells us, \u201can exposition of the\nfaith of the Roman Church in the matters of the worship of the saints and\nof their relics, of the blessed Virgin Mary, of images, etc., in reply\nto the objections of Protestantism, followed by a historical and critical\ndissertation on the celibacy of the clergy.\u201d On these trite subjects\nlittle that is new can be said. But the work before us is a terse and\nlucid summary of Catholic teaching on the above points.\n\nIt is the object of the society of Freemasons to effect the universal\ndeification, the rejection, that is, of the belief in any existence\nhigher than the human being, and in any superiority of one man over\nanother. For this they find it convenient to support the foolish\nProtestant objection to a splendid ritual and costly churches, on the\nground that \u201cGod is a spirit, and they that worship him must worship him\nin spirit and in truth.\u201d Dr. B\u00e9gin quotes the following telling passage\nfrom a contemporary writer in answer to this frivolous objection:\n\n\u201cI know the old tirades about the temple of nature. No doubt the starry\nvault of heaven is a sublime dome; but no worship exists which is\ncelebrated in the open air. A special place of meeting is required for\ncollective adoration, because our religious sociability urges us to\ngather together for prayer, as it were to make a common stock of our joys\nand griefs. Besides, should the time come when we shall have nothing\nbut the cupola of heaven to shelter our religious assemblies, it would\nrequire a considerable amount of courage to betake ourselves thither,\nespecially in winter. And the philosophers who find our cathedrals\nso damp would not be the most intrepid against the inclemency of the\nsanctuary of nature. Thus do great errors touch on the ridiculous.\nReasoning begins their refutation; a smile ends it.\u201d\n\nThe second chapter is an admirable exposition of the special worship\n(_hyperdulia_) paid to the Blessed Virgin Mary, in the course of which\nhe shows triumphantly that the definition of her Immaculate Conception\nwas no new doctrine, but a mere definite and dogmatic statement of a\ndoctrine which had been all along held implicitly in the church. The\nfollowing simile, illustrative of this argument, appears to us to be\nworth quoting: \u201cModern science, which is daily making such extraordinary\nprogress, discovers, ever and anon, fresh stars, which seem to float\nin the most distant depths of space, which become more bright as they\nare more attentively observed, and which end by becoming stars of\ncontinually-increasing splendor. These stars are not of recent date;\nthey are not new; they are only perceived. Something analogous takes\nplace in the heavens of the church on the subject of certain truths of\nour faith. Their light reveals itself and develops by degrees. Sometimes\nthe shock of controversy illuminates them. Then comes a definition to\ninvest them with fresh splendor. But in receiving this supplement of\nlight, destined to make them better understood by the faithful, they lose\nnothing of their proper nature; their essence is not in the slightest\ndegree changed; only our minds appropriate them with more facility.\u201d\n\n    FLOWERS FROM THE GARDEN OF THE VISITATION; or, Lives of Several\n    Religious of that Order. Translated from the French. Baltimore:\n    Kelly, Piet & Co. 1875.\n\nTo those who have attempted to form an adequate conception of the\ncharitable and ascetic spirit, the simple record of these saintly lives\nmust have a wonderful fascination. To those, even, who are wholly\nabsorbed in a life of pleasure it will at least possess the merit of a\nnew sensation, if they can forget the silent reproof which such examples\nconvey.\n\nIt affords matter of encouragement in these days of combined luxury\nand destitution to look over the history of those--many of whom were\ndelicately reared--who left all for God, content to do whatsoever he\nappointed them to do, and to submit to extraordinary mortifications for\nhis sake. The work embraces six brief biographies of Visitation Nuns\neminent for their self-sacrificing labors for the moral and intellectual\neducation of their charges, and in other good and charitable offices.\nTheir names, even, may be quite new to English-speaking readers, but that\nfact is all the more in keeping with their hidden lives. We have said\nenough to indicate the general character of the volume.\n\n    JOHN DORRIEN: A novel. By Julia Kavanagh. New York: D. Appleton\n    & Co. 1875.\n\nThe writer succeeds, in the very opening chapter, in so portraying\nthe character of a child as to make it a living breathing reality\nto the reader. The story of his humble life in childhood and his\nstruggles and trials in later years is told without any attempt at\nfine writing--indeed, all the characters are simply and well drawn,\nand retain their individuality to the end. The heroine, neglected in\nchildhood, and without any guide in matters of faith, is easily persuaded\nby a suitor that religion is contrary to reason; and thus, left to her\nown unaided judgment, and notwithstanding her innate love of truth,\nsoon finds herself entangled in a web of deceit and hypocrisy. She only\nescapes the unhappiness which such a course entails by forsaking it.\n\nThe moral of the tale (if that is not an obsolete term) is what\nthe reader would naturally infer--the necessity of early religious\ninstruction, and the advantage, even in this life, of a belief in\nrevealed truth. We are glad to note the absence of the faults which\ndisfigure much of the imaginative literature of the day, not excepting,\nwe are sorry to say, that which emanates from the writer\u2019s own sex. We\nsee no attempt to give false views of life, or to undermine the moral and\nreligious principles of the reader; on the contrary, there is reason to\ninfer much that is positively good, though not so definitely stated as we\nshould have liked.\n\n    THE BIBLE AND THE RULE OF FAITH. By the Abb\u00e9 Louis-Nazaire\n    B\u00e9gin, Doctor of Theology, Theological Professor in the\n    University of Laval. Translated from the French by G. M. Ward\n    [Mrs. Penn\u00e9e].\n\nProtestantism is well-nigh defunct. It is in its last throes. It has not\nsufficient vitality left to care for its own doctrines, such as they\nare. As a religion it has almost ceased to exist. Disobedience to the\nfaith has been succeeded by indifference; indifference by the hatred of\nChrist. Its rickety old doctrines, whose folly has been exposed over and\nover again thousands of times, have quietly tumbled out of existence.\nProtestants themselves have almost forgotten them, and certainly do not\ncare enough about them to defend them. Paganism has returned--paganism in\nits last stage of sceptical development. We have to contend now for the\ndivinity of Christ and the existence of a God. The Bible and the rule of\nfaith are up amongst the lumber.\n\nYet it may be--as the writer of this work asserts; we much doubt\nit, however--that there are still \u201cmany poor souls in the bosom of\nProtestantism a prey to the anguish of doubt.\u201d To such the Abb\u00e9 B\u00e9gin\u2019s\ntreatise on the rule of faith may be of the utmost service. The argument\nis extremely terse and lucid. In short, were the minds of Protestant\nfanatics open to reason, it could not fail to convince them of the\nunreasoning folly of their notions about the Bible being the one only\nrule of faith.\n\nThe first part of this work treats of the rule of faith in general, and\nproves, amongst other things, that such a rule must be sure, efficient,\nand perpetual to put an end to controversies.\n\nThe second part exhibits the logical impossibility of the Protestant rule\nof faith, remote and proximate. That is to say, that it is impossible for\nthe unexplained text of the Bible to be a sure, efficient, and perpetual\nrule of faith, and for an immediate inspiration of its meaning to\nindividuals by the Holy Ghost to be its means of explanation.\n\nThe third part proves very exhaustively that the Catholic rule of faith\nis the only possible sure, efficient, and perpetual one; namely, Holy\nScripture, the remote rule, and the teaching church, the proximate one.\n\nTo any souls \u201cin the bosom of Protestism\u201d who are \u201ca prey to the anguish\nof doubt,\u201d if indeed there be such, we cordially recommend this treatise.\nIts tone is kind and gentle, its reasoning irresistible, and, with\nthe blessing of God, is able to put an end to all their doubts on the\nfundamental question as to the true rule of faith.\n\n    PERSONAL REMINISCENCES. By Cornelia Knight and Thomas Raikes.\n    New York: Scribner, Armstrong & Co. 1875.\n\nThis is another of the pleasant \u201cBric-\u00e0-Brac series,\u201d edited by Richard\nHenry Stoddard. Miss Knight was that nondescript kind of being known as\na \u201clady companion\u201d to the Princess Charlotte of Wales. Her position gave\nher peculiar facilities for enjoying the privilege, so dear to certain\nhearts, of a peep behind the scenes of a royal household. Never having\nbeen married, she had plenty of time for jotting down her notes and\nobservations on men, women, and things. Many of the men and women she met\nwere famous in their way and in their time. As might be expected, there\nis much nonsense in her observations, mingled with pleasant glimpses of a\nkind of life that has now passed away. Mr. Raikes\u2019 journal is similar in\ncharacter to that of Miss Knight, with the advantage or disadvantage, as\nmay be considered, of having been written by a man.\n\n\n\n\nTHE CATHOLIC WORLD.\n\nVOL. XXII., No. 129.--DECEMBER, 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\nMR. GLADSTONE AND MARYLAND TOLERATION.\n\nIt was supposed that Mr. Gladstone had been so triumphantly refuted, as\na polemic, that he would take a prudent refuge in silence. At a moment\nwhen neighboring nations were rent with religious dissensions, and when\nEngland needed repose from, rather than fuel added to, her internal\nagitations, a statesman and ex-premier of the British Empire assumes the\n_r\u00f4le_ of a religious agitator and accuser, and startles, as well as\noffends, the public sense of appropriateness by his useless and baseless\nindictment against the Catholic Church, to which England owes all that\nis glorious in her constitution and in her history; against English\nCatholics in particular, his fellow-subjects, who of all others, by their\nloyalty and Christian faith and virtues, can preserve the liberties\nand the institutions of their country, now threatened alike by infidel\ncorruption, Protestant indifference, and communistic malice; and against\nthat saintly and illustrious pontiff whose hand is only raised to bless,\nwhose lips breathe unfaltering prayer, and whose voice and pen have never\nceased to announce and defend the eternal truths of religion, to uphold\nmorality, and to refute the crying errors and evils of our times. The\nunanswerable refutations which Mr. Gladstone\u2019s attacks elicited from\nCardinal Manning, Bishops Ullathorne and Vaughan, Drs. Newman and Capel,\nand Canon Neville, not to speak of the Italian work of Mgr. Nardi and the\nrebukes administered by the periodical press, had, it was believed, even\nby impartial Protestants, effectually driven this new champion of the old\nNo-popery party in England from the field of polemics. But, like all new\nrecruits, the ex-premier seems incapable of realizing defeat, or perhaps\nis anxious, at least, to retire with the honors of war.\n\nNot content with the serial publication of his three tracts, he has just\nnow republished them in one volume, with a _Preface_, under the title\nof _Rome and the Newest Fashions in Religion_--a title as unbecoming\nthe gravity of his subjects as it is unsupported by the contents of\nthe work. The preface to the republication not only reiterates his\naccusations on all points, but the author, not satisfied with his new\npart as theologian, essays the _r\u00f4le_ of historical critic, and thus\ngives prominence to a historical question of deep interest and of\nespecial importance to the Catholics of this country.\n\nThe same _animus_ which inspired Mr. Gladstone\u2019s attacks against the\nchurch, against his Catholic fellow-countrymen, and against the most\naugust and venerable personage in Christendom, has also induced him to\ndeny to the Catholic founders of Maryland the honorable renown, accorded\nto them heretofore by historians with singular unanimity, of having, when\nin power, practised religious toleration towards all Christian sects, and\nsecured freedom of conscience, not only by their unwavering action and\npractice, but also by giving it the stability and sanctions of statute\nlaw. This is certainly the only phase in this celebrated controversy upon\nwhich it remains for Mr. Gladstone to be answered.\n\nHis Eminence Cardinal Manning, in _The Vatican Decrees in their bearing\non Civil Allegiance_, at page 88 (New York edition), writes:\n\n    \u201cFor the same reasons I deplore the haste, I must say the\n    passion, which carried away so large a mind to affirm or to\n    imply that the church of this day would, if she could, use\n    torture, and force, and coercion in matters of religious\n    belief.\u2026 In the year 1830 the Catholics of Belgium were in\n    a vast majority, but they did not use their political power\n    to constrain the faith or conscience of any man. The \u2018Four\n    Liberties\u2019 of Belgium were the work of Catholics. This is the\n    most recent example of what Catholics would do if they were in\n    possession of power. But there is one more ancient and more\n    homely for us Englishmen. It is found at a date when the old\n    traditions of the Catholic Church were still vigorous in the\n    minds of men.\u2026 If the modern spirit had any share in producing\n    the constitution of Belgium, it certainly had no share in\n    producing the constitution of Maryland. Lord Baltimore, who\n    had been Secretary of State under James I., in 1633 emigrated\n    to the American plantations, where, through Lord Stafford\u2019s\n    influence, he had obtained a grant of land.\u2026 They named their\n    new country Maryland, and there they settled. The oath of the\n    governor was in these terms: \u2018I will not, by myself or any\n    other, directly or indirectly, molest any person professing to\n    believe in Jesus Christ, for or in respect of religion.\u2019 Lord\n    Baltimore invited the Puritans of Massachusetts--who, like\n    himself, had renounced their country for conscience\u2019 sake--to\n    come into Maryland. In 1649, when active persecution had sprung\n    up again in England, the Council of Maryland, on the 21st\n    of April, passed this statute; \u2018And whereas the forcing of\n    the conscience in matters of religion hath frequently fallen\n    out to be of dangerous consequence in the commonwealth where\n    it has been practised, and for the more quiet and peaceable\n    government of the province, and the better to preserve mutual\n    love and amity among the inhabitants, no person within the\n    province professing to believe in Jesus Christ shall be\n    anyways troubled, molested, or discountenanced for his or her\n    religion, or in the free exercise thereof.\u2019 The Episcopalians\n    and Protestants fled from Virginia into Maryland. Such was the\n    commonwealth founded by a Catholic upon the broad moral law I\n    have here laid down--that faith is an act of the will, and that\n    to force men to profess what they do not believe is contrary to\n    the law of God, and that to generate faith by force is morally\n    impossible.\u201d\n\nMr. Gladstone, in his _Vaticanism_, page 96, replies to the above as\nfollows:\n\n    \u201cIt appears to me that Archbishop Manning has completely\n    misapprehended the history of the settlement of Maryland and\n    the establishment of toleration there for all believers in the\n    Holy Trinity. It was a wise measure, for which the two Lords\n    Baltimore, father and son, deserve the highest honor. But the\n    measure was really defensive; and its main and very legitimate\n    purpose plainly was to secure the free exercise of the Roman\n    Catholic religion. Immigration into the colony was by the\n    charter free; and only by this and other popular provisions\n    could the territory have been extricated from the grasp of its\n    neighbors in Virginia, who claimed it as their own. It was\n    apprehended that the Puritans would flood it, as they did; and\n    it seemed certain that but for this excellent provision the\n    handful of Roman Catholic founders would have been unable to\n    hold their ground. The facts are given in Bancroft\u2019s _History\n    of the United States_, vol. i., chap. vii.\u201d\n\nAgain, in his _Preface_ to _Rome and the Newest Fashions in Religion_,\npage viii., Mr. Gladstone writes:\n\n    \u201cIt has long been customary to quote the case of Maryland in\n    proof that, more than two centuries ago, the Roman Catholic\n    Church, where power was in its hands, could use it for the\n    purposes of toleration. Archbishop Manning has repeated the\n    boast, and with very large exaggeration.\n\n    \u201cI have already shown from Bancroft\u2019s _History_ that in the\n    case of Maryland there was no question of a merciful use of\n    power towards others, but simply of a wise and defensive\n    prudence with respect to themselves--that is to say, so far as\n    the tolerant legislation of the colony was the work of Roman\n    Catholics. But it does not appear to have been their work.\n    By the fourth article of the charter we find that no church\n    could be consecrated there except according to the laws of the\n    church at home. The tenth article guaranteed to the colonists\n    generally \u2018all privileges, franchises, and liberties of this\n    our kingdom of England.\u2019 It was in 1649 that the Maryland\n    Act of Toleration was passed, which, however, prescribed the\n    punishment of death for any one who denied the Trinity. Of the\n    small legislative body which passed it, two-thirds appear to\n    have been Protestant, the recorded numbers being sixteen and\n    eight respectively. The colony was open to the immigration of\n    Puritans and all Protestants, and any permanent and successful\n    oppression by a handful of Roman Catholics was altogether\n    impossible. But the colonial act seems to have been an echo\n    of the order of the House of Commons at home, on the 27th of\n    October, 1645, that the inhabitants of the Summer Islands, and\n    such others as shall join themselves to them, \u2018shall without\n    any molestation or trouble have and enjoy the liberty of their\n    consciences in matters of God\u2019s worship\u2019; and of a British\n    ordinance of 1647.\n\n    \u201cUpon the whole, then, the picture of Maryland legislation is\n    a gratifying one; but the historic theory which assigns the\n    credit of it to the Roman Church has little foundation in fact.\u201d\n\nLet us first test Mr. Gladstone\u2019s accuracy and consistency as a\nhistorical critic. He begins by alleging that the Maryland Toleration Act\nwas a measure of defensive prudence in the interests of the Catholics\nthemselves, and that \u201cits main and very legitimate purpose plainly was to\nsecure the free exercise of the Roman Catholic religion.\u201d He then asserts\nthat this act of toleration was not the work of the Catholics at all, but\nof a Protestant majority in the legislature which passed it. We have,\nthen, here presented the extraordinary picture of an alleged Protestant\nlegislature passing a law which was really intended to protect Catholics\nagainst Protestant ascendency and apprehended Protestant persecution, and\nwhose \u201cmain and very legitimate purpose was to secure the free exercise\nof the Roman Catholic religion.\u201d Surely, the Protestants of that day were\nliberal and generous, especially as it was an age of persecution, when\nnot only were Catholics hunted down both in England and her Virginia\nand New England colonies, but even Protestants of different sects were\nrelentlessly persecuting each other. And in what proper sense can _they_\nbe said to have been Protestants with whom it was \u201c_a very legitimate\npurpose_\u201d to legislate in the express interests of Roman Catholics?\n\nMr. Gladstone also states that the Toleration Act was passed in the\napprehension of an influx of Puritans, and to protect the colony \u201cfrom\nthe grasp of its neighbors in Virginia\u201d; whereas his favorite author,\nMr. Bancroft, informs Mr. Gladstone that Lord Baltimore invited both\nthe Episcopalians of Virginia and the Puritans of New England into\nhis domains, offering a gift of lands as an inducement; and it is a\nhistorical fact that numbers of them accepted the invitation.\n\nAgain, Mr. Gladstone, while apparently treating the Toleration Act as a\nCatholic measure, animadverts with evident disapproval on that feature\nin it which \u201cprescribed the punishment of death for any one who denied\nthe Trinity,\u201d and then immediately he claims that the legislature which\npassed the act was a Protestant body--\u201ctwo-thirds,\u201d he writes, \u201cappear\nto have been Protestants\u201d--thus imposing upon his Protestant friends the\nodium of inflicting death for the exercise of conscience and religious\nbelief; and that, too, not upon Papists, as they were not included in the\npunishment.\n\nMr. Gladstone, in _The Vatican Decrees in their bearing on Civil\nAllegiance_ (page 83), expressing no doubt the common sentiments of\nProtestants since the time of Luther and Henry VIII., uses these\nirreverent words in regard to the Blessed Virgin Mary, that peerless and\nimmaculate Lady whom four-fifths of the Christian world venerate as the\nMother of God:\n\n    \u201cThe sinlessness of the Virgin Mary and the personal\n    infallibility of the Pope are the characteristic dogmas of\n    modern Romanism.\u2026 Both rest on pious fiction and fraud; both\n    present a refined idolatry by clothing a pure humble woman and\n    a mortal sinful man with divine attributes. The dogma of the\n    Immaculate Conception, which exempts the Virgin Mary from sin\n    and guilt, perverts Christianism into Marianism.\u2026 The worship\n    of a woman is virtually substituted for the worship of Christ.\u201d\n\nAnd yet with such sentiments, in which doubtless the Protestants of\nMaryland in 1649 concurred, he attributes to, and claims for, those\nProtestants who, he says, constituted two-thirds of the Maryland Colonial\nLegislature in 1649, the passage of a law which enacted \u201cthat whosoever\nshall use or utter any reproachful words or speeches concerning the\nBlessed Virgin Mary, the Mother of our Saviour, \u2026 shall for the first\noffence forfeit five pounds sterling, or, if not able to pay, be publicly\nwhipped and imprisoned during pleasure, etc.; for the second offence, ten\npounds, etc.; and for the third shall forfeit all his lands and goods,\nand be banished from the province.\u201d\n\nThe following anecdote, related by the Protestant Bozman,[98] is quite\npertinent to our subject and to our cause:\n\n    \u201cAnd in the time of the Long Parliament when the differences\n    between the Lord Baltimore and Colonell Samuel Matthews, as\n    agent for the colony of Virginia, were depending before a\n    committee of that parliament for the navy, that clause in the\n    sayd law, concerning the Virgin Mary, was at that committee\n    objected as an exception against his lordship; whereupon a\n    worthy member of the sayd committee stood up and sayd, that he\n    wondered that any such exception should be taken against his\n    lordship; for (says hee) doth not the Scripture say, that all\n    generations shall call her blessed? (The author here cites in\n    the margin, \u2018Lu. i. 48.\u2019) And the committee insisted no more on\n    that exception.\u201d\n\nThe authorities relied upon by Mr. Gladstone, besides Bancroft, whom\nwe shall presently refer to, are _Maryland Toleration_, by the Rev.\nEthan Allen, and _Maryland not a Catholic Colony_, by E. D. N. The\nformer is a pamphlet of sixty-four pages addressed by the author, a\nProtestant minister, to his brethren in the ministry in 1855, is purely\na sectarian tract, hostile to every Catholic view and interest, and\npartisan in spirit and in matter. The latter is a few pages of printed\nmatter, consisting of three newspaper articles published last year in\nthe _Daily Pioneer_ of St. Paul, Minnesota, and recently reprinted in\nthe _North-Western Chronicle_ of the same place, the editor of which\nstates that the author of the letters is the Rev. Edward D. Neill, also\na Protestant minister, and president of Macalester College. The letters\nof \u201cE. D. N.\u201d were sharply and ably replied to by Mr. William Markoe,\nformerly an Episcopal minister, now a member of the Catholic Church. The\nletters of \u201cE. D. N.\u201d are more sectarian than historical, and cannot\nbe quoted in a controversy in which such names as Chalmers, Bancroft,\nMcSherry, Bozman, etc., figure. The attack of \u201cE. D. N.\u201d on the personal\ncharacter of Lord Baltimore is enough to condemn his effort.\n\nBut Mr. Gladstone\u2019s principal author is Bancroft, from whose pages\nhe claims to have shown that \u201cin the case of Maryland there was _no\nquestion_ of a merciful use of power towards others, but _simply_ of\na wise and defensive prudence with respect to themselves.\u201d Motives of\n_self-interest_ are thus substituted for those of _benevolence_ and\n_mercy_. If this were correctly stated, why does Mr. Gladstone state that\nthe Act of Toleration was a measure \u201cfor which the two Lords Baltimore,\nfather and son, deserve the highest honor\u201d? But our task is now to\ninquire how far his author sustains Mr. Gladstone in denying to the\nCatholics of Maryland, who enacted religious toleration, all motives of\nbenevolence and mercy.\n\nMr. Bancroft, on the contrary, asserts that the \u201cnew government [of\nMaryland] was erected on a _foundation_ as extraordinary as its results\nwere _benevolent_.\u201d[99] In speaking of Lord Baltimore, the founder of\nMaryland, its chief statesman and law-giver, he extols his _moderation_,\n_sincerity of character_, and _disinterestedness_,[100] and proceeds to\nsay:\n\n    \u201cCalvert deserves to be ranked among the most wise and\n    _benevolent_ law-givers of all ages. He was the first in the\n    history of the Christian world to seek for religious security\n    and peace by the practice of justice, and not by the exercise\n    of power; to plan the establishment of popular institutions\n    with the enjoyment of liberty of conscience; to advance the\n    career of civilization by recognizing the rightful equality of\n    all Christian sects. The asylum of Papists was the spot where,\n    in a remote corner of the world, on the banks of rivers which,\n    as yet, had hardly been explored, the _mild forbearance_ of a\n    proprietary adopted religious freedom as the _basis_ of the\n    state.\u201d[101]\n\nReferring to the act of taking possession of their new homes in Maryland\nby the Catholic pilgrims, the same author says, thereby \u201creligious\nliberty obtained a home, its only home in the wide world, at the humble\nvillage which bore the name of St. Mary\u2019s.\u201d[102] And speaking of the\nprogress of the colony, he further says: \u201cUnder the _mild_ institutions\nand munificence of Baltimore the dreary wilderness soon bloomed with\nswarming life and activity of prosperous settlements; the Roman\nCatholics who were oppressed by the laws of England were sure to find a\npeaceful asylum in the quiet harbors of the Chesapeake; and there, too,\nProtestants were sheltered against Protestant intolerance.\u201d[103] Such,\nin fine, is the repeated language of an author whom Mr. Gladstone refers\nto in proof of his assertion that toleration in Maryland was _simply_ a\nmeasure of self-defence.\n\nChalmers bears the following testimony to the same point: \u201cHe\u201d (Lord\nBaltimore) \u201c_laid the foundation_ of his province upon the broad _basis_\nof security to property and of freedom of religion, granting, in absolute\nfee, fifty acres of land to every emigrant; establishing Christianity\naccording to the old common law, of which it is a part, without allowing\npre-eminence to any particular sect. The wisdom of his choice soon\nconverted a dreary wilderness into a prosperous colony.\u201d[104]\n\nAnd Judge Story, with the history of the colony from its beginning and\nthe charter before him, adds the weight of judicial approval in the\nfollowing words: \u201cIt is certainly very honorable to the liberality and\npublic spirit of the proprietary that he should have introduced into his\n_fundamental_ policy the doctrine of general toleration and equality\namong Christian sects (for he does not appear to have gone further),\nand have thus given the earliest example of a legislator inviting his\nsubjects to the free indulgence of religious opinion. This was anterior\nto the settlement of Rhode Island, and therefore merits the enviable rank\nof being the first recognition among the colonists of the glorious and\nindefeasible rights of conscience.\u201d[105]\n\nBut there is another view, clearly sustained by an important and certain\nchain of facts, which has never occurred to the historical writers on\nMaryland toleration, at least in this connection, though they give the\nfacts upon which the view is based, and which wholly destroys the theory\nof Mr. Gladstone and his authorities. The latter may dispute in regard to\nthe merits and motives of the statute of 1649, but they do not touch the\nreal question. It is an incontestable fact that the religious toleration\nwhich historians have so much extolled in the Catholic colonists and\nfounders of Maryland did not originate with, or derive its existence\nfrom, that law of 1649, but, on the contrary, it existed long anterior\nto, and independent of, it. This great feature in the Catholic government\nof Maryland had been established by the Catholic lord-proprietary, his\nlieutenant-governor, agents, and colonists, and faithfully practised for\nfifteen years prior to the Toleration Act of 1649. From 1634 to 1649 it\nhad been enforced with unwavering firmness and protected with exalted\nbenevolence. This important fact is utterly ignored by Mr. Gladstone and\nhis authors, the Rev. Ethan Allen and the Rev. Edward D. Neill, but the\nfacts related by Bancroft, and indeed by all historians, prove it beyond\na question. Bancroft records that the very \u201c_foundations_\u201d of the colony\nwere laid upon the \u201c_basis_\u201d of religious toleration, and throughout the\neulogiums pronounced by him on the religious toleration of Maryland,\nwhich we have quoted above, refers entirely to the period of the fifteen\nyears preceding the passage of the act of 1649. The Toleration Act was\nnothing else than the declaration of the existing state of things and\nof the long and cherished policy and practice of the colony--a formal\nsanction and statutory enactment of the existing common law of the\nprovince.\n\nBefore proceeding to demonstrate this fact, we will briefly examine\nhow far Mr. Bancroft sustains the theory or views of Mr. Gladstone in\nregard to the act itself. After extolling the motives and conduct of the\nCatholics of Maryland in establishing religious toleration, as we have\nremarked above, during the fifteen years preceding the passage of the\nact, Mr. Bancroft refers to that statute in terms of highest praise.\nHe barely hints at the possibility that a foresight, on the part of\nthe colonists, of impending dangers to themselves from threatened or\napprehended Protestant ascendency and persecution, might have entered\namong the motives which induced them to pass that act; but he nowhere\nasserts the fact, nor does he allege anything beyond conjecture for\nthe possibility of the motive. Indeed, his mode of expressing himself\nindicates that, though he thought it possible, his own impression was\nthat such motive did not suggest in part even the passage of the act; for\nhe writes: \u201c_As if_, with a foresight of impending danger and an earnest\ndesire to stay its approach, the Roman Catholics of Maryland, with the\nearnest concurrence of their governor and of the proprietary, determined\nto place upon their statute-book an act for _the religious freedom which\nhad ever been sacred on their soil_.\u201d Compare this with the language\nof Mr. Gladstone, who excludes every motive but that of self-interest,\nand refers to Bancroft in support of his view, but does not quote his\nlanguage. Mr. Bancroft, on the other hand, after quoting from the\nstatute, exclaims, such was \u201cits sublime tenor.\u201d\n\nMr. Griffith does not agree with the suggestion that a sense of fear or\napprehension entered into the motives of the Maryland lawgivers, and\nsays: \u201cThat this liberty did not proceed from fear of others, on the one\nhand, or licentious dispositions in the government, on the other, is\nsufficiently evident from the penalties prescribed against blasphemy,\nswearing, drunkenness, and Sabbath-breaking, by the preceding sections of\nthe act, and proviso, at the end, that such exercise of religion did not\nmolest or conspire against the proprietary or his government.\u201d[106]\n\nLet us now proceed to examine still further whether Maryland was a\nCatholic colony, whether it was by Catholics that religious toleration\nwas established there, and whether it had its origin in the act of 1649\nor in the long previous practice and persistent generosity and mercy of\nthe Catholic rulers of the province. It is true that while the territory\nafterwards granted to Lord Baltimore was subject to the Virginia charter,\na settlement of Episcopalians was made on Kent Island; but they were very\nfew in numbers, always adhered to Virginia rather than to Maryland in\ntheir sympathies, were so turbulent and disloyal that Governor Calvert\nhad to reduce them by force of arms, and no one has ever pretended that\nthey founded a State. We will show what relation they had in point of\nnumbers and political influence to the colony, and that they did not form\neven the slightest element of power in the founding of the province.\n\nMaryland was founded alone by the Catholic Lord Baltimore and his\ncolonists. Such is the voice of history. It is rather disingenuous in the\nreverend authors of the pamphlets mentioned by Mr. Gladstone that upon so\nflimsy a circumstance they assert that Maryland was not settled first by\nCatholics. Their voices are drowned by the concurrent voice of tradition\nand of history. It is only the reassertion of the pretensions of these\nzealous sectarians by so respectable a person as Mr. Gladstone, and that,\ntoo, in one of the most remarkable controversies of the age, that renders\na recurrence to the historical authorities and their results at all\ndesirable or necessary.\n\nThe colony of Maryland was conceived in the spirit of liberty. It was the\nflight of English Catholics from Protestant persecution in their native\ncountry. The state of the penal laws in England against Catholics at this\nperiod is too well known. The zealous Protestant Bozman writes that they\n\u201ccontained severities enough to keep them [the Catholics] in all due\nsubjection.\u201d\n\nIt was at this hour of their extremest suffering that the Catholics\nof England found a friend and leader in Sir George Calvert, who held\nimportant trusts under the governments of James and Charles, and enjoyed\nthe confidence of his sovereigns and of his country. \u201cIn an age when\nreligious controversy still continued to be active, when increasing\ndivisions among Protestants were spreading a general alarm, his mind\nsought relief from controversy in the bosom of the Roman Catholic Church,\nand, preferring the avowal of his opinions to the emoluments of office,\nhe resigned his place and openly professed his conversion.\u201d[107] Even\nafter this he was advanced to the peerage under the title of Lord\nBaltimore--an Irish title--and was appointed one of the principal\nsecretaries under James I. His positions in the government gave him\nnot only an acquaintance with American colonization, but an official\nconnection with it. Of these he now availed himself to provide an asylum\nabroad for his fellow-Catholics from the relentless persecution they\nwere suffering at home. His first effort was to found a Catholic colony\non the shores of Newfoundland. A settlement was begun. Avalon was the\nname it received, and twice did Lord Baltimore cross the ocean to visit\nhis cherished cradle of liberty. Baffled by political difficulties,\nthe severity of the climate, and an ungenerous soil, he abandoned the\nendeavor. That his motive all along was to found a place of refuge for\nCatholics from persecution is certain from the time and circumstances\nunder which the enterprise was undertaken, as well as from the testimony\nof historians. Oldmixon says: \u201cThis gentleman [Lord Baltimore], being\nof the Romish religion, was uneasy at home, and had the same reason to\nleave the kingdom as those gentlemen had who went to New England, to\nenjoy the liberty of his conscience.\u201d[108] Bozman writes that \u201cby their\n[the Puritans\u2019] clamors for a vigorous execution of the laws against\nPapists, it became now necessary for them [the Catholics] also to look\nabout for a place of refuge.\u201d[109] The same writer also refers to a MS.\nin the British Museum, written by Lord Baltimore himself, in which this\nmotive is mentioned. Driven from Avalon by the hardness of the climate,\nhe visited Virginia with the same view; but hence again he was driven\nby religious bigotry and the presentation of an anti-popery oath from\na colony \u201cfrom which the careful exclusion of Roman Catholics had been\noriginally avowed as a special object.\u201d His mind, filled with the thought\nof founding a place of refuge for Catholics, next turned to the country\nbeyond the Potomac, which had been embraced originally in the Virginia\ncharter, but which, upon the cancellation of that charter, had reverted\nto the crown. He obtained a grant and charter from the king, so liberal\nin its terms that, Griffith says, it became the model for future grants.\nThe name was changed from Crescentia to that of Maryland, in honor of the\nCatholic queen of Charles; but the devout Catholics of the expedition, in\ntheir piety, extended the term _Terra Mari\u00e6_, the Land of Mary, into an\nact of devotion and honor to Mary, the Queen of Heaven.\n\nThe first Lord Baltimore did not live to see his project carried into\neffect; he died on the 25th of April, 1632, was succeeded by his son\nCecilius, second Lord Baltimore, who, as Bancroft says, was the heir of\nhis _intentions_ no less than of his fortunes; to him was issued the\ncharter negotiated by his father, bearing date the 15th of June, 1632.\n\nFounded by a Catholic, designed as an asylum for persecuted Catholics,\nis it to be supposed that Lord Baltimore and his brother, Governor\nLeonard Calvert, who organized and led forth the pilgrims, would be so\ninconsistent at this moment of their success as to lose sight of the\nmain object of the movement, and carry _Protestant_ colonists with whom\nto found a _Catholic_ colony? If, as Rev. Edward D. Neill, author of\n_Maryland not a Catholic Colony_, says, there were only twenty Catholic\ngentlemen in the ship, and three hundred servants, mostly Protestants,\nwould it have been deemed necessary to carry two Catholic priests\nand their assistants along to administer to the souls of so small a\nnumber? In point of fact, the Protestants were so few that they brought\nno minister with them, and it was several years before their entire\nnumbers justified their having either a minister or a place of worship.\nThe voyage on the _Ark_ and _Dove_ was more like a Catholic pilgrimage\nthan a secular expedition. The principal parts of the ship (the _Ark_),\nsays Father White in his _Narrative_, were committed to the protection\nof God especially, and to his Most Holy Mother, and S. Ignatius, and\nall the guardian angels of Maryland. The vessel was a floating chapel,\nan ocean shrine of Catholic faith and devotion, consecrated by the\nunbloody sacrifice, and resounding with Latin litanies; its safety from\nmany a threatened disaster was attributed to the intercession of the\nBlessed Virgin and the saints, whose mediation was propitiated by votive\nofferings promised and promptly rendered after their safe arrival at St.\nMary\u2019s. The festivals of the saints were faithfully observed throughout\nthe voyage, the feast of the Annunciation of the Blessed Virgin was\nselected for landing, and the solemn act of taking possession was\naccording to the Catholic form. Father White thus describes the scene:\n\n    \u201cOn the day of the Annunciation of the Most Holy Virgin Mary\n    (March 25), in the year 1634, we celebrated the Mass for the\n    first time on this island [St. Clement\u2019s]. This had never been\n    done before in this part of the world. After we had completed\n    the sacrifice, we took upon our shoulders a great cross which\n    we had hewn out of a tree, and advancing in order to the\n    appointed place, with the assistance of the governor and his\n    associates, and the other Catholics, we erected a trophy to\n    Christ the Saviour, humbly reciting on our bended knees the\n    Litanies of the Sacred Cross with great emotion.\u201d[110]\n\nThey founded a city, the capital of the colony, and called it St. Mary\u2019s.\nA Catholic chapel was subsequently erected there; and this too was\ndedicated to S. Mary. The city has passed away, but the little chapel\nstill stands, preserved alike by Catholic and Protestant hands, as a\nmonument of the faith and zeal of the Catholic pilgrims of Maryland.\nMr. Griffith, the historian, uniting his voice to that of Bancroft and\nother writers, speaking of the object which inspired the settlement\nfrom its inception by Lord Baltimore in England, says: \u201cOut of respect\nfor their religion they planted the cross, and, after fortifying\nthemselves, plainly and openly set about to obtain, by the fairest means\nin their power, other property and homes, where they should escape the\npersecutions of the religious and political reformers of their native\ncountry at that time.\u201d[111]\n\nThe church and parish of S. Mary were for many years the headquarters of\nthe Jesuit missions of Maryland. During the succeeding years prior to\n1649 there was a steady influx of Catholics into the colony from England,\nas is evident by the land records and other official documents, and by\nthe fact that the number of Catholic priests required for the settlement\nincreased from two in 1634 to four priests and one coadjutor prior to\n1644. The Catholic strength was also increased by numerous conversions,\nas is shown by Father White\u2019s _Narrative_, in which, at page 56, he\nrelates that, \u201camong the Protestants, nearly all who came over from\nEngland, in this year 1638, and many others, have been converted to the\nfaith, together with four servants \u2026 and five mechanics whom we \u2026 have in\nthe meantime won to God.\u201d So numerous were these conversions, and they\ncreated so great a sensation in England, that measures were taken there\nto check them.\n\nThat the colony was Catholic in its origin, and so continued until\nafter the year 1649, when the Toleration Act was passed, has never been\ndenied, according to our researches, except by Mr. Gladstone and the two\nProtestant ministers whom he quotes. Bancroft, writing of the religious\ntoleration which prevailed in Maryland during this period, always speaks\nof it as the work of Catholics. In referring to the original colonists\nhe adds, \u201cmost of them Roman Catholic gentlemen and their servants.\u201d\nEven so unfriendly a writer as Bozman says: \u201cThe most, if not all, of\nthem were Catholics.\u201d Chancellor Kent speaks of the colony as \u201cthe\nCatholic planters of Maryland,\u201d and Judge Story says they were \u201cchiefly\nRoman Catholics.\u201d Father White, in his _Narrative_, speaks of the few\nProtestants on board the _Ark_ as individuals, and not as a class.\nBozman, alluding to the year 1639, and to \u201cthose in whose hands the\ngovernment of the province was,\u201d says: \u201cA majority of whom were, without\ndoubt, Catholics, as well as much the greater number of the colonists.\u201d\nMr. Davis, a Protestant, who drew his information from the official\ndocuments of the colony and State, gives unanswerable proofs of the fact\nfor which we are contending. We give a single passage from his work on\nthis point:\n\n    \u201cSt. Mary\u2019s was the home--the chosen home--of the disciples\n    of the Roman Church. The fact has been generally received.\n    It is sustained by the tradition of two hundred years and by\n    volumes of unwritten testimony; by the records of the courts;\n    by the proceedings of the privy council; by the trial of\n    law-cases; by the wills and inventories; by the land-records\n    and rent-rolls; and by the very names originally given to the\n    towns and _hundreds_, to the creeks and rivulets, to the tracts\n    and manors of the county. The state itself bears the name of\n    a Roman Catholic queen. Of the six _hundreds_ of this small\n    county, in 1650, five had the prefix of _St._ Sixty tracts and\n    manors, most of them taken up at a very early period, bear the\n    same Roman Catholic mark. The creeks and villages, to this\n    day, attest the widespread prevalence of the same tastes,\n    sentiments, and sympathies. Not long after the passage of the\n    act relating to \u2018religion,\u2019 the Protestants, it is admitted,\n    outgrew their Roman Catholic brethren, and in 1689 succeeded\n    very easily in their attempt to overthrow the proprietary. But\n    judging from the composition of the juries in 1655, we see no\n    reason to believe that they then had a majority.\u201d[112]\n\nMr. Gladstone seems to favor the view that religious toleration in\nMaryland was derived from the charter. We are surprised at this, since\n\u201cE. D. N.\u201d (Rev. Edward D. Neill), whose pamphlet has furnished the\nsubstance of the entire passage we have quoted from Mr. Gladstone\u2019s\n_Preface_, says in his _Maryland not a Roman Catholic Colony_, \u201cThe\ncharter of Maryland granted to Lord Baltimore was not a charter\nof religious liberty, but the very opposite.\u201d McSherry, a Catholic\nhistorian, says that \u201cthe ecclesiastical laws of England, so far as\nrelated to the consecration and presentation of churches and chapels,\nwere extended to the colony, but the question of state religion was left\nuntouched, and therefore within the legislative power of the colonists\nthemselves.\u201d[113] And Bozman, a Protestant historian, adopts the same\nview of the charter, for he regards the \u201cAct for Church Liberties\u201d passed\nin 1639, enacting that \u201cHoly Church within this province shall have\nall her rights and privileges,\u201d as an attempt to exercise a control of\nreligion, and says: \u201cWe cannot but suppose that it was the intention of\nthe Catholic government to erect a hierarchy, with an ecclesiastical\njurisdiction, similar to the ancient Church of England before the\nReformation, and to invest it with all its rights, liberties, and\nimmunities.\u201d[114] The same views are expressed by the same author at\npages 68 and 350 of his history. While civil liberty was guaranteed by\nthe charter to all within the province, we find no mention of religious\ntoleration in its provisions. Nor do we find that immigration was made\nfree by the charter, as alleged by Mr. Gladstone; the provision to which\nhe refers simply assures to the subjects of England, \u201ctransported or\nto be transported into the province, all privileges, franchises, and\nliberties of this our kingdom of England,\u201d but the decision of the point\nas to who should be transplanted or admitted to settle there was left\nto the lord proprietary and the provincial legislature. The grant by\nthe king to Lord Baltimore of all the lands of the province in itself\ngave him the full control over immigration, by enabling him to fix the\nconditions to the grants of land to colonists, which would have kept out\nall except such as the lord proprietary wished to enter.\n\nWe think we have shown that the Catholics were in the majority during\nthe whole period covered by our discussion, and that the charter\nleft them free to protect themselves from intrusion; that they were,\nconsequently, all-powerful to perpetuate their numerical preponderance\nand control of the government. Why had they not the same motives for\npractising intolerance as the Puritans? Their positions, respectively\nand relatively, were the same in this particular, and the same reasons\napply to both. No, they were actuated by a different spirit, and guided\nby different traditions. They possessed the power, and used it with mercy\nand benevolence; not only permitting but inviting Christians of every\nshade of opinion to settle in the province, but also offering grants\nof land on easy terms, and protecting the settlers from molestation on\naccount of their religion. If they had not the power to proscribe, why\nshould Bancroft, Griffith, Chambers, Kent, Story, and nearly all writers\non the subject, have bestowed such encomiums on them for doing what they\ncould not have refrained from doing? Why extol the toleration enjoined\nby Lord Baltimore and proclaimed by Governor Leonard Calvert, and the\nsubsequently enacted Toleration Act of 1649, if the liberty it enacts was\nalready secured by the charter of 1632?\n\nIt is not necessary for us to go further into this question, since in\neither event the honor and credit of religious toleration in Maryland\nis due to a Catholic source. If the charter secured it, our answer is\nthat the charter itself was the work of a Catholic, for Lord Baltimore\nis the acknowledged author of that document. \u201cThe nature of the document\nitself,\u201d says Bancroft, \u201cand concurrent opinion, leave no doubt that it\nwas penned by the first Lord Baltimore himself, although it was finally\nissued for the benefit of his son.\u201d[115] \u201cIt was prepared by Lord\nBaltimore himself,\u201d says McSherry, \u201cbut before it was finally executed\nthat truly great and good man died, and the patent was delivered to his\nson, Cecilius, who succeeded as well to his noble designs as to his\ntitles and estates.\u201d[116] It will be more than sufficient to add here\nthat both Mr. Bozman and the Rev. Ethan Allen concede that Lord Baltimore\nwas the author of the charter.\n\nWe propose now to show that the religious toleration which prevailed\nin Maryland had its origin in the good-will, generosity, and mercy of\nthe Catholic lord proprietary and his Catholic government and colony of\nMaryland; was practised from the very beginning of the settlement, and\nthat we are not indebted for it to the Toleration Act of 1649, except\nperhaps as a measure by which its provisions were prolonged. Toleration\nwas the course adopted in organizing the Maryland colony, even in\nEngland and before the landing of the pilgrims. Thus we find that some\nProtestants were permitted to accompany the colonists and share equal\nrights and protection with their Catholic associates. Father White speaks\nof them on board the _Ark_ and _Dove_. The author of _Maryland not a\nCatholic Colony_ refers to the fact that \u201cThomas Cornwallis and Jerome\nHawley, who went out as councillors of the colony, were adherents of the\nChurch of England,\u201d as evidence in part that Maryland was \u201cnot a Catholic\ncolony.\u201d We take the same fact to show that not only were Protestants\ntolerated in the colony from its inception, but were liberally and\ngenerously given a share in its government. The Rev. Ethan Allen relates\na succession of proofs of this fact, though not for that purpose, in\nthe following passage: \u201cWitness the fact of so large a portion of the\nfirst colonists being Protestants; his invitation to Capt. Fleet; his\ninvitation to the Puritan colonists of Massachusetts to come and reside\nin the colony in 1643; his constituting Col. Stone his governor in\n1648, who was a Protestant, and was to bring five hundred colonists;\nhis admitting the Puritans of Virginia in the same year; and in the\nyear following erecting a new county for Robert Brooke, a Puritan, and\nhis colonists.\u201d[117] McSherry says, speaking of the act of possession\non landing in 1634: \u201cAround the rough-hewn cross, on the island of St.\nClement\u2019s, gathered the Catholic and the Protestant, hand in hand,\nfriends and brothers, equal in civil rights, and secure alike in the free\nand full enjoyment of either creed. It was a day whose memory should make\nthe Maryland heart bound with pride and pleasure.\u201d[118] The same author\nsays that the Toleration Act of 1649 was passed \u201cto give _additional_\nsecurity to the safeguards which Lord Baltimore _had already provided_.\u201d\nBancroft makes religious toleration commence from the first landing\n\u201cwhen the Catholics took possession,\u201d and extend throughout the fourteen\nyears up to the passage of the act of 1649. He says that \u201cthe apologist\nof Lord Baltimore could assert that his government, in conformity with\nhis strict and repeated injunctions, had _never_ given disturbance to any\nperson in Maryland for matter of religion.\u201d[119] The Rev. Ethan Allen\nrelates that the Protestants in the colony were allowed to have their own\nchapel and to conduct therein the Protestant service. He cites a case\nin which a Catholic was severely punished for abusive language towards\nsome Protestant servants in respect to their religion, and remarks that\n\u201cthe settling of the case was unquestionably creditable and honorable to\nthe Catholic governor and council.\u201d[120] Mr. Davis, a Protestant, says:\n\u201cA freedom, however, of a wider sort springs forth at the _birth of the\ncolony--not demanded by that instrument_ [the charter], but permitted by\nit--not graven upon the tables of stone, nor written upon the paper of\nthe statute-books, but conceived in the very bosom of the proprietary and\nof the original pilgrims--not a formal or constructive kind, but a living\nfreedom, a freedom of the most practical sort. It is the freedom which\nit remained for them, and for them alone, _either to grant or deny_--a\nfreedom embracing within its range, and protecting under its banner, all\nthose who were believers in Jesus Christ.\u201d[121]\n\nAgain, the same author writes: \u201cThe records have been carefully searched.\nNo case of persecution occurred, during the administration of Gov.\nLeonard Calvert, from the foundation of the settlement at St. Mary\u2019s\nto the year 1647.\u201d[122] Langford, a writer contemporaneous with the\nperiod of which we are treating, in his _Refutation of Babylon\u2019s Fall_,\n1655, confirms the result of Mr. Davis\u2019 investigation of the records.\nThe Protestants of the colony themselves, in a _declaration_, of which\nwe will speak again, attribute the religious toleration they enjoyed\nnot solely to the Toleration Act, but also to \u201c_several other strict\ninjunctions and declarations of his said lordship for that purpose\nmade and provided_.\u201d Gov. Leonard Calvert also enjoined the same by a\nproclamation, which is mentioned by numerous historians. A case arising\nunder this proclamation is given by Bozman and others in 1638, eleven\nyears before the passage of the Toleration Act. Capt. Cornwallis\u2019\nservants, who were Protestants, were lodged under the same roof with\nWilliam Lewis, a zealous Catholic, who was also placed in charge of the\nservants. Entering one day the room where the servants were reading\naloud from a Protestant book--Mr. Smith\u2019s _Sermons_--at the very moment\nthe Protestants were reading aloud a passage to the effect \u201cthat the\npope was Antichrist, and the Jesuits were anti-Christian ministers,\u201d\nsupposing that the passage was read aloud especially for him to hear, he\nordered them with great warmth not to read that book, saying that \u201cit\nwas a falsehood, and came from the devil, as all lies did; and that he\nthat writ it was an instrument of the devil, and he would prove it; and\nthat all Protestant ministers were ministers of the devil.\u201d All the\nparties were tried before the governor and his council; the case against\nthe servants was postponed for further testimony, but Mr. Lewis, the\nCatholic, was condemned to pay a fine of five hundred pounds of tobacco\n(then the currency of the colony), and to remain in the sheriff\u2019s custody\nuntil he found sufficient sureties in the future. Bozman thus remarks\nupon this decision: \u201cAs these proceedings took place before the highest\ntribunal of the province, composed of the three first officers in the\ngovernment, they amply develop the course of conduct with respect to\nreligion which those in whose hands the government of the province was\nplaced, had resolved to pursue.\u201d[123] Not only did the Catholic lord\nproprietary, in 1648, appoint Mr. Stone, a Protestant, to be the governor\nof the province, but also he at the same time appointed a majority of the\nprivy councillors from the same faith.\n\nWe will close our testimony on this point with the official oath which\nLord Baltimore required the governor and the privy councillors to take;\nit was substantially as follows:\n\n    \u201cI will not by myself nor any person, directly or indirectly,\n    trouble, molest, or discountenance any person whatsoever in\n    said province professing to believe in Jesus Christ, for or in\n    respect to his or her religion, nor in his or her free exercise\n    thereof.\u201d\n\nWe cannot determine when this oath began to be used. Bancroft places it\nbetween 1636 and 1639. Chalmers, Dr. Hawks, and others give the time\nas between 1637 and 1657. It is certain that this oath was prescribed\nprior to the passage of the Toleration Act; for Governor Stone and the\ncouncillors took the oath in 1648, and there is reason to believe that it\nwas in use at a much earlier period.\n\nReferring to the period anterior to the passage of the Toleration Act,\nBancroft says: \u201cMaryland at that day was unsurpassed for happiness and\nliberty. Conscience was without restraint.\u201d[124] Mr. Davis, in reference\nto this subject, writes: \u201cThe toleration which prevailed from the first,\nand for fifteen years later, was formally ratified by the voice of the\npeople\u201d (in 1649).\n\nMr. Gladstone\u2019s view of the subject is evidently superficial; it relates\nexclusively to the passage of the Toleration Act, and was conceived and\npublished without the knowledge of the fact, which we have demonstrated,\nthat the toleration for which the Catholics of Maryland have been so\nmuch praised had been practised for fifteen years before the passage of\nthat act. Surely, there can be no rival claim set forth in behalf of\nProtestants for the period we have mentioned. Mr. Gladstone sets up his\nclaim for the Protestants under that act. We cannot admit the justice or\ntruth of the pretension. Let us examine it. This law enacted that \u201cno\none professing to believe in Jesus Christ shall be troubled, molested,\nor discountenanced for his religion, or the free exercise thereof, nor\ncompelled to the belief or exercise of any other religion against his\nconsent.\u201d Now here, too, the claim set up by Mr. Gladstone, and by the\nauthors of the pamphlets he quotes, is met by stern facts.\n\nIn the first place, the Toleration Act of 1649 was the work of a\nCatholic. It was prepared in England by Lord Baltimore himself, and sent\nover to the Assembly with other proposed laws for their action. This fact\nis related by nearly all writers on Maryland history, including those\nconsulted by Mr. Gladstone, except the writer of _Maryland not a Roman\nCatholic Colony_, who does not refer to the subject, except to claim that\nit was but the echo of a previous and similar order of the English House\nof Commons in 1645 and of a statute passed by it in 1647. The last-named\nwriter even intimates that the Rev. Thomas Harrison, the former pastor of\nthe Puritans at Providence, afterward Annapolis, in Maryland, suggested\nthe whole matter to Lord Baltimore. We might even admit this pretension\nwithout impairing the Catholic claim. It does not destroy the credit\ndue to the Catholics of Maryland in passing the Toleration Act to show\nthat others, even Puritans, entertained in one or two instances similar\nviews and enacted similar measures. We know that the Puritans in England\nwere proscriptive, and that in New England they did not practise the\ntoleration of Maryland. Even if Lord Baltimore had the measure suggested\nto him by the Puritan Harrison, the act itself, when adopted by him\nand put in practice, is still his act and that of the Assembly which\npassed it. It remains their free and voluntary performance. The merit\nwhich attaches to the good deeds of men is not destroyed by having been\nsuggested by others. A Puritan might even share in the act without\nappropriating the whole credit to himself. But whatever merit is claimed\nfor the Puritans in these measures--which we cannot perceive--is\nlost by their subsequent conduct. They overturned the government of\nLord Baltimore in Maryland, and under their ascendency Catholics were\npersecuted in the very home of liberty to which Catholics had invited the\nPuritans. But of the existence of the English toleration acts mentioned\nby the writer referred to and by Mr. Gladstone, we have been supplied\nwith no proof. That the Puritan Harrison suggested the measure to Lord\nBaltimore is hinted at, not roundly asserted, certainly not sustained by\nproof.\n\nBut public facts give the negative to these pretensions. The Toleration\nAct of 1649 was the immediate echo of the actual toleration which, under\nthe injunctions of Lord Baltimore, the proclamation of Governor Calvert,\nand the uniform practice of the colonists, had long become the common\nlaw of the colony. Why seek, in the turbulent and confused proceedings\nof the Long Parliament, a model or example for the Maryland law, when\nsuch exemplar is supplied nearer home by the colony itself from its first\ninception? To the people of Maryland, in 1649, the Toleration Act was\nnothing new; it was readily and unanimously received; it produced no\nchange in the constitution of the province. Toleration was not the law\nor the practice of that day, either in England or her colonies; the echo\nwas too remote and too readily drowned by the din of persecution and of\nstrife.\n\nBut the Maryland Toleration Act contains intrinsic evidence of a purely\nCatholic origin. The clause enforcing the honor and respect due to \u201cthe\nblessed Virgin Mary, the Mother of our Saviour,\u201d which we have already\nquoted, gives a Catholic flavor to the whole statute, and excludes the\ntheory of parliamentary or puritanical influence in originating the\nmeasure. The claim thus set up is also against the concurrent voice of\nhistory, which, with great accord, gives the authorship of the law to\nLord Baltimore, who, as he had enjoined and enforced its provisions on\nthe colony for fifteen years, needed no assistance in reducing them to\nthe form of a statute, which we are informed he did.\n\nBut who were the lawgivers of 1649, and what was their religion?\n\nBy the charter the law-making power was vested in Lord Baltimore and the\nAssembly. It was for some years a matter of contest between them which\npossessed the right to initiate laws. The lord proprietary, however,\nfinally conceded this privilege to the Assembly. It was not uncommon for\nthe Assembly to reject the laws first sent over by the lord proprietary,\nand afterwards to bring them forward themselves and pass them. But in\n1648, when Governor Stone was appointed, the Toleration Act was among\nthe measures sent by Lord Baltimore, for the action of the Assembly. The\ngovernment, then, consisted of Cecilius, Lord Baltimore, a Catholic,\nwithout whose sanction no law could be enacted, and whose signature to\nthe measure in question was given the following year. The journal of the\nMaryland legislature was lost or destroyed, but fortunately a fragment of\nit is preserved, consisting of a report from the financial committee of\nthe Assembly, and the action of that body on the bill of charges. With\nthis document, and the aid of the historical facts recorded by Bozman and\nother historians, we are enabled to ascertain the names of the members\nof the Assembly in 1649.\n\nGov. Stone was lieutenant-governor and president of the council,\nwhich was composed of Thomas Green, John Price, John Pile, and Robert\nVaughan, commissioned by the lord proprietary; and the remaining\ncouncillors were Robert Clarke, surveyor-general, and Thomas Hatton,\nsecretary of the colony, _ex-officio_ members of the council. The\nother members of the Assembly were the representatives of the freemen,\nor burgesses, as follows: Cuthbert Fenwick, Philip Conner, William\nBretton, Richard Browne, George Manners, Richard Banks, John Maunsell,\nThomas Thornborough, and Walter Peake, nine in number. The governor,\ncouncillors, and burgesses made sixteen in all; but as Messrs. Pile and\nHatton, one Catholic and one Protestant, were absent, the votes actually\ncast were fourteen. On the memorable occasion in question the councillors\nand burgesses sat in one \u201chouse,\u201d and as such passed the Toleration Act.\nOf the fourteen thus voting, Messrs. Green, Clarke, Fenwick, Bretton,\nManners, Maunsell, Peake, and Thornborough were Catholics, and Messrs.\nStone, Price, Vaughan, Conner, Banks, and Browne were Protestants. The\nCatholics were eight to six Protestants.\n\nBut the Assembly was not the only law-making branch of the government.\nThe executive, or lord proprietary, was a co-ordinate branch, and\nwithout his co-operation no law could pass. Now, the executive was\na Catholic, and a majority of the Assembly were Catholics; so that\nwe have it as a historical fact that in a government composed of two\nco-ordinate branches, _both branches of the law-making power_ which\nenacted the Toleration Act _were Catholic_. It is an important fact\nthat if all the Protestant members of the Assembly had voted against\nthe law, the Catholic majority could and would have passed it, and the\nCatholic executive was only too ready to sanction his own measure. It\ncannot, therefore, be said that the Catholics could not have passed the\nlaw without the Protestant votes; for we have seen that both of the\nco-ordinate branches of the government were in the hands of the Catholics.\n\nWaiving, however, the division of the government into two co-ordinate\nbranches, by which method we have the entire government Catholic; and\nregarding the lord proprietary merely as individual, computing the\nlawgivers of 1649 simply numerically, we have the following result:\n\n                 LAWGIVERS OF 1649.\n\n    _Catholics._               _Protestants._\n\n    Lord Baltimore.            Lt.-Gov. Stone.\n    Mr. Green.                 Mr. Price.\n    Mr. Clarke.                Mr. Vaughan.\n    Mr. Fenwick.               Mr. Conner.\n    Mr. Bretton.               Mr. Banks.\n    Mr. Manners.               Mr. Browne--6.\n    Mr. Maunsell.\n    Mr. Peake.\n    Mr. Thornborough--9.\n\nAs Catholics we would be quite content with this showing; but we are\nindebted to several Protestant authors--more impartial than Messrs.\nGladstone, Allen, and Neill, who write solely in the interests of\nsect--for a computation of the respective Catholic and Protestant votes\nin the Assembly in 1649, which, leaving out Lord Baltimore, and making\nthe number of votes fourteen, gives, according to their just and strictly\nlegal computation, _eleven Catholic votes and three Protestant votes\nfor the Act of Toleration_. Mr. Davis, in his _Day-Star of American\nFreedom_, and Mr. William Meade Addison, in his _Religious Toleration in\nAmerica_, both Protestant authors, take this view, and enforce it with\nstrong facts and cogent reasonings. We will quote a passage, however,\nfrom only one of these works, the former, showing their views and the\nmethod by which they arrive at the respective numbers _eleven_ and\n_three_. Mr. Davis writes: \u201cThe privy councillors were all of them, as\nwell as the governor, the special representatives of the Roman Catholic\nproprietary--under an express pledge, imposed by him shortly before\nthe meeting of the Assembly (as may be seen by the official oath), to\ndo nothing at variance with the religious freedom of any believer in\nChristianity--and removable any moment at his pleasure. It would be\nfairer, therefore, to place the governor and the four privy councillors\non the same side as the six Roman Catholic burgesses. Giving Mr.\nBrowne to the other side, _we have eleven Roman Catholic against three\nProtestant votes_.\u201d[125]\n\nWe think, however, that if the computation is to be made by numbers, Lord\nBaltimore must be included, as the act received his executive approval,\nand could never have become a law without it. Thus, according to the\nviews of Messrs. Davis and Addison, with this amendment by us, the\nnumbers would stand twelve Catholic against three Protestant votes. But\nwe prefer taking our own two several methods of computation, viz., by\nco-ordinate branches of the government, showing--\n\n    _Catholic._                       _Protestant._\n\n    The executive, Lord Baltimore,    None.\n\n    The Assembly, 2.\n\n--and that estimated by numbers, counting Lord Baltimore as one, showing--\n\n    Catholics, 9.       Protestants, 6.\n\nThis surely is a very different result from that announced by Mr.\nGladstone, following the author of _Maryland not a Roman Catholic\nColony_--viz., sixteen Protestant against eight Catholic votes. So far\nthe numbers given by Mr. Gladstone and the writer he follows are mere\nassertion, unsupported by authority, either as to the composition of the\nAssembly or the respective religious beliefs of the members. Mr. Davis,\nhowever, gives in detail every member\u2019s name, and refers to the proof by\nwhich he arrives at their names and number; and the same testimony is\nopen, we presume, to the examination of all. In order that there may be\nno lack of proof as to the religious faiths they professed, he gives a\npersonal sketch of each member of the Assembly in 1649, and proves from\ntheir public acts, their deeds of conveyance, their land patents, their\nlast wills and testaments, the records of the courts, etc., that those\nnamed by him as Catholics were incontestably of that faith.\n\nThe population of the colony in 1649 was also largely Catholic beyond\ndispute. We have already shown that it was Catholic by a large majority\nduring the fifteen years preceding and up to that time. The above\ncomputations, showing a majority of the legislature to be Catholic,\nstrongly indicates the complexion of the religious faith of their\nconstituents. Up to 1649 St. Mary\u2019s, the Catholic county, was the only\ncounty in the State, and Kent, the seat of the Protestant population, was\nonly a _hundred_ of St. Mary\u2019s. Kent was not erected into a county until\nthe year the Toleration Act was passed. While St. Mary\u2019s was populous\nand Catholic, Kent was Protestant and thinly settled. There were six\n_hundreds_ in St. Mary\u2019s, all Catholic except perhaps one, and of that\none it is uncertain whether the majority was Catholic or Protestant. \u201cBut\nthe population of Kent,\u201d says Davis, \u201cwas small. In 1639, if not many\nyears later, she was but a _hundred_ of St. Mary\u2019s county.[126] In 1648\nshe paid a fifth part only of the tax, and did not hold in the Assembly\nof that year a larger ratio of political power. That also was before the\nreturn, we may suppose, of all the Roman Catholics who had been expelled\nor exported from St. Mary\u2019s by Capt. Ingle and the other enemies of the\nproprietary. In 1649 she had but one delegate, while St. Mary\u2019s was\nrepresented by eight. And this year she paid but a sixth part of the tax,\nand for many years after as well as before this Assembly there is no\nevidence whatever of a division of the island (of Kent) or the county,\neven into _hundreds_. Its population did not, in 1648, exceed the fifth,\nnor in 1649 the sixth, part of the whole number of free white persons\nin the province.\u201d[127] After a thorough examination of the records, Mr.\nDavis arrives at the conclusion that the Protestants constituted only\none-fourth of the population of Maryland at the time of the passage of\nthe Toleration Act, in 1649. His investigations must have been careful\nand thorough, for he gives the sources of his information, refers to\n_liber_ and _folio_, and cites copiously from the public records. He\nthinks that for twenty years after the first settlement--to wit, about\nthe year 1654--the Catholics were in the majority. He concludes his\nchapter on this subject with the following passage: \u201cLooking, then, at\nthe question under both its aspects--regarding the faith either of the\ndelegates or of those whom they substantially represented--we cannot but\naward the chief honor to the members of the Roman Church. To the Roman\nCatholic freemen of Maryland is justly due the main credit arising from\nthe establishment, by a solemn legislative act, of religious freedom for\nall believers in Christianity.\u201d[128]\n\nBut, fortunately, we have another document at hand, signed in the most\nsolemn manner by those who certainly must have known the truth of the\ncase, as they were the contemporaries, witnesses of, and participators\nin, the very events of which we are treating. This is what is usually\nknown as the Protestant _Declaration_, made the year after the passage of\nthe Toleration Act, and shortly after it was known that Lord Baltimore\nhad signed the act and made it the law of the land. This important\ndocument is an outpouring of gratitude from the Protestants of the colony\nto the Catholic proprietary for the religious toleration they enjoyed\nunder his government. It is signed by Gov. Stone, the privy councillors\nPrice, Vaughan, and Hatton--all of whom were members of the Assembly\nthat passed the Toleration Act--by all the Protestant burgesses in the\nAssembly of 1650, and by a great number of the leading Protestants of the\ncolony. They address Lord Baltimore in these words:\n\n    \u201cWe, the said lieutenant, council, burgesses, and other\n    _Protestant_ inhabitants above mentioned, whose names are\n    hereunto subscribed, do declare and certify to all persons whom\n    it may concern that, according to an act of Assembly here,\n    _and several other strict injunctions and declarations by his\n    said lordship_, we do here enjoy all fitting and convenient\n    freedom and liberty in the exercise of our religion, under his\n    lordship\u2019s government and interest; and that none of us are\n    anyways troubled or molested, for or by reason thereof, within\n    his lordship\u2019s said province.\u201d[129]\n\nThis important document is dated the 17th of April, 1650. It proves that\nthe religious toleration they enjoyed was not due alone to the act of\n1649, but to the uniform policy of Lord Baltimore and his government;\nand that even for the Toleration Act itself, which had recently become a\nlaw by his signature, they were indebted to a Catholic. Comment on such\ntestimony is unnecessary.\n\nChancellor Kent, with the charter, the public policy of Lord Baltimore,\nof his colonial officers and colonists, and the Toleration Act of 1649,\nall submitted to his broad and profound judicial inquiry and judgment,\nhas rendered the following opinion and tribute to the Catholic lawgivers\nof Maryland, to whom he attributes the merit of the generous policy we\nare considering:\n\n    \u201cThe legislature had already, in 1649, declared by law that\n    no persons professing to believe in Jesus Christ should be\n    molested in respect to their religion, or in the free exercise\n    thereof, or compelled to the belief or exercise of any other\n    religion against their consent. Thus, in the words of a learned\n    and liberal historian (Grahame\u2019s _History of the Rise and\n    Progress of the United States_), the Catholic planters of\n    Maryland won for their adopted country the distinguished praise\n    of being the first of American States in which toleration was\n    established by law, and while the Puritans were persecuting\n    their Protestant brethren in New England, and Episcopalians\n    retorting the same severity on the Puritans in Virginia, the\n    Catholics, against whom the others were combined, formed\n    in Maryland a sanctuary where all might worship and none\n    might oppress, and where even Protestants sought refuge from\n    Protestant intolerance.\u201d[130]\n\nCatholics have written comparatively little upon this subject. The\nhistorians of Maryland have been chiefly Protestants. As long as\nProtestants so unanimously accorded to the Catholic founders of Maryland\nthe chief credit of this great event, it was unnecessary for Catholics\nto speak in their own behalf. It has remained for Mr. Gladstone and the\ntwo sectarian ministers he follows to attempt to mar the harmony of that\ngrateful and honorable accord of the Protestant world, by which Catholic\nMaryland received from the united voice of Protestant history the\nenviable title of \u201c_The Land of the Sanctuary_.\u201d\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 XI.\n\nA DINNER AT THE COURT, WITH AN EPISODE.\n\nCrossing from the station to his brougham, Sir Simon saw Mr. Langrove\nissuing from a cottage on the road. The vicar had been detained later\nthan he foresaw on a sick-call, and was hurrying home to dress for\ndinner. It was raining sharply. Sir Simon hailed him:\n\n\u201cShall I give you a lift, Langrove?\u201d\n\n\u201cThank you; I shall be very glad. I am rather late as it is.\u201d And they\ngot into the brougham together.\n\n\u201cAnd how wags the world with you, my reverend friend? Souls being saved\nin great numbers, eh?\u201d inquired the baronet when they had exchanged their\nfriendly greetings.\n\n\u201cHumph! I am thankful not to have the counting of them,\u201d was the reply,\nwith a shake of the head that boded ill for the sanctification of\nDullerton.\n\n\u201cThat\u2019s it, is it? Well, we are all going down the hill together; there\nis some comfort in that. But how about Miss Bulpit? Don\u2019t her port wine\nand tracts snatch a few brands from the burning?\u201d\n\n\u201cFor the love of heaven don\u2019t speak to me of her! Don\u2019t, I beg of you!\u201d\nentreated the vicar, throwing up his hands deprecatingly, and moved from\nthe placid propriety that seemed a law of nature to him.\n\n\u201cSuppose I had good news to report of her?\u201d\n\n\u201cHow so?\u201d cried Mr. Langrove with sudden vivacity. \u201cShe\u2019s not going to\nmarry Sparks, is she?\u201d\n\n\u201cNot just yet; but the next best thing to that. She is going to leave the\nneighborhood.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou don\u2019t mean it!\u201d\n\n\u201cI do indeed. How is it you\u2019ve not heard of it before? She\u2019s been\npestering Anwyll these two years about some repairs or improvements she\nwants done in her house--crotchets, I dare say, that would have to be\npulled to pieces for the next tenant. He has always politely referred\nher to his agent, which means showing her to the door; but at last she\nthreatened to leave if he did not give in and do what she wants.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! is that all?\u201d exclaimed the vicar, crestfallen. \u201cI might have waited\na little before I hallooed; we are not out of the woods yet. Anwyll is\nsure to give in rather than let her go.\u201d\n\n\u201cNothing of the sort. He dislikes the old lady, and so does his mother,\nand so particularly does your venerable _confr\u00e8re_ of Rydal Rectory. I\nmet Anwyll this morning at the club, and he told me he had made up his\nmind to let her go. It happens--luckily for you, I suspect--that he has a\ntenant in view to take her place. Come, now, cheer up! Is not that good\nnews?\u201d\n\n\u201cMost excellent!\u201d said the vicar emphatically. \u201cI wonder where she will\nmove to?\u201d\n\n\u201cPerhaps I could tell you that too. She is in treaty with Charlton for\na dilapidated old hunting lodge of his in the middle of a fir-wood\nthe other side of Axmut Common, about twenty miles the other side of\nMoorlands; it is as good as settled, I believe, and if so we are all safe\nfrom her.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, you do surprise me!\u201d exclaimed Mr. Langrove, his countenance\nexpanding into a breadth of satisfaction that was absolutely radiant.\n\u201cWho is the incumbent of Axmut, let me see?\u201d he said, musing.\n\n\u201cThere is as good as none; it is a lonely spot, with no church within\nten miles, I believe. I shrewdly suspect this was the main attraction;\nfor the life of him, Charlton says, he can\u2019t see any other. It is a\ntumble-down, fag-end-of-the-world-looking place as you would find in all\nEngland. It must be the clear coast for \u2018dealing with souls,\u2019 as she\ncalls it, that baited her. There is a community of over a hundred poor\npeople, something of the gypsy sort, scattered over the common and in a\nmiserable little hamlet they call the village; so she may preach away to\nher heart\u2019s content, and no one to compete or interfere with her but the\nblacksmith, who rants every Sunday under a wooden shed, or on a tub on\nthe common, according to the state of the weather.\u201d\n\n\u201cCapital! That\u2019s just the place for her!\u201d was the vicar\u2019s jubilant remark.\n\nIn spite of the pleasure that lit up his features, usually so mild and\ninexpressive, Sir Simon, looking closely at the vicar, thought him worn\nand aged. \u201cYou look tired, Langrove. You are overworked, or else Miss\nBulpit has been too much for you; which is it?\u201d he said kindly.\n\n\u201cA little of both, perhaps,\u201d the vicar laughed. \u201cI have felt the recent\ncold a good deal; the cold always pulls me down. I\u2019ll be all right when\nthe spring comes round and hunts the rheumatism out of my bones,\u201d he\nadded, moving his arm uncomfortably.\n\n\u201cYou ought to do like the swallow--migrate to a warm climate before the\ncold sets in,\u201d observed Sir Simon; \u201cnothing else dislodges rheumatism.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat\u2019s just what Blink was saying to me this morning. He urged me very\nstrongly to go away for a couple of months now to get out of the way of\nthe east winds. He wants me to take a trip to the South of France.\u201d Mr.\nLangrove laughed gently as he said this.\n\n\u201cAnd why don\u2019t you?\u201d\n\n\u201cBecause I can\u2019t afford it.\u201d\n\n\u201cNonsense, nonsense! Take it first, and afford it afterwards. That\u2019s my\nmaxim.\u201d\n\n\u201cA very convenient maxim for you, but not so practicable for an incumbent\nwith a large family and a short income as for the landlord of Dullerton,\u201d\nsaid Mr. Langrove good-humoredly.\n\nThe baronet winced.\n\n\u201cPrudence and economy are all very well,\u201d he replied, \u201cbut they may be\ncarried too far; your health is worth more to you than any amount of\nmoney. If you want the change, you should take it and pay the price.\u201d\n\n\u201cI suppose we might have most things, if we choose to take them on those\nterms,\u201d remarked the vicar. \u201c\u2018Take it and pay the price!\u2019 says the poet;\nbut some prices are too high for any value. Who would do my work while I\nwas off looking after my health? Is that Bourbonais hurrying up the hill?\nHe will get drenched; he has no umbrella.\u201d\n\n\u201cLike him to go out a day like this without one,\u201d said Sir Simon in an\naccent of fond petulance. \u201cHow is he? How is Franceline? How does she\nlook?\u201d\n\n\u201cPoorly enough. If she were my child, I should be very uneasy about her.\u201d\n\n\u201cHa! does Bourbonais seem uneasy? Do you see much of him?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo; not through my fault, nor indeed through his. We have each our\nseparate work, and these winter days are short. I met him this morning\ncoming out of Blink\u2019s as I went in. I did not like his look; he had his\nhat pulled over his eyes, and when I spoke to him he answered me as if he\nhardly knew who I was or what he was saying.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd you did not ask if there was anything amiss?\u201d said Sir Simon in a\ntone of reproach.\n\n\u201cI did, but not him. I asked Blink.\u201d\n\n\u201cHa! what did he say?\u201d And the baronet bent forward for the answer with\nan eager look.\n\n\u201cNothing very definite--you know his grandiloquent, vague talk--but\nhe said something about hereditary taint on the lungs; and I gathered\nthat he thought it was a mistake not having taken her to a warm climate\nimmediately after that accident to her chest; but whether the mistake was\nhis or the count\u2019s I could not quite see. I imagine from what he said\nthat there was a money difficulty in the way, or he thought there was,\nand did not, perhaps, urge the point as strongly as he otherwise would.\u201d\n\nSir Simon fell back on the cushions, muttering some impatient exclamation.\n\n\u201cThat was perhaps a case where the maxim of \u2018take it first and afford it\nafterwards\u2019 would seem justifiable,\u201d observed Mr. Langrove.\n\n\u201cOf course it was! But Bourbonais is such an unmanageable fellow in\nthose things. The strongest necessity will never extract one iota of a\nsacrifice of principle from him; you might as well try to bend steel.\u201d\n\n\u201cHe has always given me the idea of a man of a very high sense of honor,\nvery scrupulous in doing what he considers his duty,\u201d said Mr. Langrove.\n\n\u201cHe is, he is,\u201d assented the baronet warmly; \u201che is the very ideal and\nepitome of honor and high principle. Not to save his life would he swerve\none inch from the straight road; but to save Franceline I fancied he\nmight have been less rigid.\u201d He heaved a sigh, and they said no more\nuntil the brougham let Sir Simon down at his own door, and then drove on\nto take Mr. Langrove to the vicarage.\n\nA well-known place never appears so attractive as when we look at it\nfor the last time. An indifferent acquaintance becomes pathetic when\nseen through the softening medium of a last look. It is like breaking\noff a fraction of our lives, snapping a link that can never be joined\nagain. A sea-side lodging, if it can claim one sweet or sad memory with\nour passing sojourn there, wears a touching aspect when we come to say\n\u201cgood-by,\u201d with the certainty that we shall never see the place again.\nBut how if the spot has been the cradle of our childhood, the home of our\nfathers for generations, where every stone is like a monument inscribed\nwith sacred and dear memories? Sir Simon was not a sentimental man; but\nall the tenderness common to good, affectionate, cultivated natures\nhad its place in his heart. He had always loved the old home. He was\nproud of it as one of the finest and most ancient houses of his class in\nEngland; he admired its grand and noble proportions, its architectural\nstrength and beauty; and he had the reverence for it that every well-born\nman feels for the place where his fathers were born, and where they have\nlived and died. But never had the lordly Gothic mansion looked to him\nso home-like as on this cold January evening when he entered it, in all\nhuman probability, for the last time. It was brilliantly lighted up to\nwelcome him. The servants, men and women, were assembled in the hall to\nmeet him. It was one of those old-fashioned patriarchal customs that were\nkept up at the Court, where so many other old customs survived, unhappily\nless harmless than this. As Sir Simon passed through the two rows of\nglad, respectful faces, he had a pleasant word for all, as if his heart\nwere free from care.\n\nThe hall was a sombre, cathedral-like apartment that needed floods\nof light to dispel its oppressive solemnity. To-night it was filled\nwith a festal breadth of light; the great chandelier that hung from\nthe groined roof was in a blaze, while the bronze figures all around\nsupported clusters of lamps that gleamed like silver balls against the\ndark wainscoting. The dining-room and library, which opened to the\nright, stood open, and displayed a brilliant illumination of lamps and\nwax-lights. Huge fires burned hospitably on all the hearths. The table\nwas ready spread; silver and crystal shone and sparkled on the snowy\ndamask; flowers scented the air as in a garden. Sir Simon glanced at it\nall as he passed. Could it be that he was going to leave all this, never\nto behold it again? It seemed impossible that it could be true.\n\nAs he stood once more in the midst of his household gods, those familiar\ndivinities whose gentle power he had never fully recognized until now,\nit seemed to him that he was safe. There was an unaccountable sense\nof security in their mere presence; they smiled on him, and seemed to\npromise protection for their shrine and their votary.\n\nThe baronet went straight to his room, made a hasty toilet, and came down\nto the library to await his guests.\n\nHe was in hopes that Raymond would have come before the others, and that\nthey might have a little talk together. But Raymond was behind them all.\nEverybody was assembled, the dinner was waiting, and he had not yet\narrived.\n\nIt was a mere chance that he came at all. Nothing, in fact, but the\ndread of awakening Franceline\u2019s suspicions had withheld him from sending\nan excuse at the last moment; but that dread, which so controlled his\nlife in every act, almost in every thought, compelling him to hide his\nfeelings under a mask of cheerfulness when his heart was breaking, drove\nhim out to join the merry-makers. It was all true what Mr. Langrove had\nsaid. There had been a return of the spitting of blood that morning,\nvery slight, but enough to frighten Ang\u00e9lique and hurry her off with\nher charge to the doctor. He had talked vaguely about debility--nervous\nsystem unstrung--no vital mischief so far; the lungs were safe. The\nold woman was soothed, and went home resolved to do what was to be\ndone without alarming her master or telling him what had occurred.\nShe counted, however, without Miss Merrywig. That pleasant old lady\nhappened from the distance to see them coming from the doctor\u2019s house,\nand, on meeting the count next morning, asked what report there was of\nFranceline. Raymond went straight to Blink\u2019s.\n\n\u201cI ask you as a man of honor to tell me the truth,\u201d he said; \u201cit is a\nmatter of life and death to me to know it.\u201d\n\nThe medical man answered his question by another: \u201cTell me frankly, are\nyou in a position to take her immediately to a warm climate? I should\nprefer Cairo; but if that is impossible, can you take her to the South of\nFrance?\u201d\n\nRaymond\u2019s heart stood still. Cairo! It had come to this, then.\n\n\u201cI can take her to Cairo,\u201d he said, speaking deliberately after a\nmoment\u2019s silence. \u201cI will take her at once.\u201d\n\nHe thought of Sir Simon\u2019s blank check. He would make use of it. He would\nsave his child; at least he would keep her with him a few years longer.\n\u201cWhy did you not tell me this sooner?\u201d he asked in a tone of quick\nresentment.\n\n\u201cI did not believe it to be essential. I thought from the first it would\nhave been desirable; but you may recollect, when I suggested taking her\neven to the South of France, your daughter opposed the idea with great\nwarmth, and you were silent. I inferred that there was some insuperable\nobstacle in the way, and that it would have been cruel as well as useless\nto press the matter.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd you say it is not too late?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo. I give you my word, as far as I can see, it is not. The return of\nthe spitting of blood is a serious symptom, but the lungs as yet are\nperfectly sound.\u201d M. de la Bourbonais went home, and opened the drawer\nwhere he kept the blank check; not with the idea of filling it up there\nand then--he must consider many things first--but he wanted to see it, to\nmake sure it was not a dream. He examined it attentively, and replaced\nit in the drawer. A gleam of satisfaction broke out on the worn, anxious\nface. But it vanished quickly. His eye fell on Sir Simon\u2019s letter of\nthe day before. He snatched it up and read it through again. A new and\nhorrible light was breaking on him. Sir Simon was a ruined man; he was\ngoing to be turned out of house and home; he was a bankrupt. What was\nhis signature worth? So much waste paper. He could not have a sixpence\nat his bankers\u2019 or anywhere else; if he had, it was in the hands of the\ncreditors who were to seize his house and lands. \u201cWhy did he give it to\nme? He must have known it was worth nothing!\u201d thought Raymond, his eyes\nwandering over the letter with a gaze of bewildered misery.\n\nBut Sir Simon had not known it. It was not the first time he had\noverdrawn his account with his bankers; but they were an old-fashioned\nfirm, good Tories like himself. The Harnesses had banked with them from\ntime immemorial, and there existed between them and their clients of this\ntype a sort of adoption. If Sir Simon was in temporary want of ready\nmoney, it was their pleasure as much as their business to accommodate\nhim; the family acres were broad and fat. Sir Simon was on friendly but\nnot on confidential terms with his bankers; they knew nothing of the\nswarm of leeches that were fattening on those family acres, so there was\nno fear in their minds as to the security of whatever accommodation\nhe might ask at their hands. When Sir Simon signed the check he felt\ncertain it would be honored for any amount that Raymond was likely to\nfill it up for. But since then things had come to a crisis; his signature\nwas now worth nothing. Lady Rebecca, on whose timely departure from\nthis world of care he had counted so securely as the means of staving\noff a catastrophe, had again disappointed him, and the evil hour so\nlong dreaded and so often postponed had come. Little as Raymond knew of\nfinancial mysteries, he was too intelligent not to guess that a man on\nthe eve of being made a bankrupt could have no current account at his\nbankers\u2019. Dr. Blink\u2019s decree was, then, the death-warrant of his child!\nRaymond buried his face in his hands in an agony too deep for tears. But\nthe sound of Franceline\u2019s step on the stairs roused him. For her sake he\nmust even now look cheerful; love is a tyrant that allows no quarter to\nself. She came in and found her father busy, writing away as if absorbed\nin his work. She knew his moods. Evidently he did not want her just now;\nshe would not disturb him, but drew her little stool to the chimney\ncorner and began to read. An hour passed. It was time for her father to\ndress for dinner; but still the sound of the pen scratching the paper\nwent on diligently.\n\n\u201cPetit p\u00e8re, it is half-past six, do you know?\u201d said the bright, silvery\nvoice, and Raymond started as if he had been stung.\n\n\u201cSo late, is it? Then I must be off at once.\u201d And he hurried away to\ndress, and only looked in to kiss her as he ran down-stairs, and was off.\n\n\u201cLoiterer!\u201d exclaimed Sir Simon, stretching out both hands and clasping\nhis friend\u2019s cordially.\n\n\u201cI have kept you waiting, I fear. The fact is, I got writing and forgot\nthe hour,\u201d said the count apologetically.\n\nDinner was announced immediately, and the company went into the\ndining-room.\n\nThey were a snug number, seven in all; the only stranger amongst them\nbeing a Mr. Plover, who happened to be staying at Moorlands. He was an\nunprepossessing-looking man, sallow, keen-eyed, and with a mouth that\nsuperficial observers would have called firm, but which a physiognomist\nmight have described as cruel. His hair was dyed, his teeth were false--a\nshrunken, shrivelled-looking creature, whose original sap and verdure, if\nhe ever had any, had been parched up by the fire of tropical suns. He had\nspent many years in India, and was now only just returned from Palestine.\nWhat he had been doing there nobody particularly understood. He talked\nof his studies in geology, but they seemed to have been chiefly confined\nto the study of such stones as had a value in the general market; he had\na large collection of rubies, sapphires, and diamonds, some of which he\nhad shown to Mr. Charlton, and excited his wonder as to the length of\nthe purse that could afford to collect such costly souvenirs of foreign\nlands simply as souvenirs. Mr. Plover had met his host accidentally\na week ago, and discovered that he and the father of the latter had\nbeen school-fellows. The son was not in a position either to verify or\ndisprove the assertion, but Mr. Plover was so fresh in his affectionate\nrecollection of his old form-fellow that young Charlton\u2019s heart warmed\nto him, and he then and there invited him down to Moorlands. He could\nnot do otherwise than ask Sir Simon to include him in his invitation to\nthe Court this evening; but he did it reluctantly. He was rather ashamed\nof his pompous, self-sufficient friend, whose transparent faith in the\npower and value of money gave a dash of vulgarity to his manners, which\nwas heightened by contrast with the well-bred simplicity of the rest of\nthe company. He had not been ten minutes in the room when he informed\nthem that he meant to buy an estate if he could find an eligible one in\nthis neighborhood; if not, he would rent the first that was to be had on\na long lease. He wanted to be near his young friend Charlton. Sir Simon\nwas extremely civil to him--surprisingly so.\n\nThe other faces we know: Mr. Langrove, bland, serious, mildly exhilarated\njust now, like a man suddenly relieved of a toothache--Miss Bulpit was\ngoing from the parish; Mr. Charlton running his turquois ring through\nhis curly light hair, and agreeing with everybody all round; Lord\nRoxham, well-bred and lively; Sir Ponsonby Anwyll, a pleasant sample\nof the English squire, blond-visaged, good-tempered, burly-limbed, and\ndisplaying a vast amount of shirt-front; M. de la Bourbonais, a distinct\nforeign type, amidst these familiar English ones, the face furrowed with\ndeep lines of study, of care too, unmistakably, the forehead moulded to\nnoble thought, the eyes deep-set under strong projecting black brows,\ntheir latent fire flashing out through the habitually gentle expression\nwhen he grew animated. He was never a talkative man in society, and\nto-night he was more silent than usual; but no one noticed this, not\neven Sir Simon. He was too much absorbed in his own preoccupation.\nRaymond sat opposite him as his _alter ego_, doing the honors of one side\nof the hospitable round table.\n\nThe conversation turned at first on generalities and current events;\nthe presence of Mr. Plover, instead of feeding it with a fresh stream,\nseemed to check the flow and prevent its becoming intimate and personal.\nSir Simon felt this, and took it in his own hands and kept it going,\nso that, if not as lively as usual, it did not flag. Raymond looked\non and listened in amazement. Was yesterday\u2019s letter a dream, and\nwould this supreme crisis vanish as lesser ones had so often done?\nWas it possible that a man could be so gay--so, to all appearance,\ncontented and unconcerned, on the very brink of ruin, disgrace, beggary,\nbanishment--all, in a word, that to a man of the baronet\u2019s character and\nposition constitute existence? He was not in high spirits. Raymond would\nnot so much have wondered at that. High spirits are sometimes artificial;\npeople get them up by stimulants as a cloak for intense depression. No,\nit was real cheerfulness and gayety. Was there any secret hope bearing\nhim up to account for the strange anomaly? Raymond could speculate on\nthis in the midst of his own burning anxiety; but for the first time\nin his life bitterness mingled with his sympathy for the baronet. Was\nit not all his own doing, this disgrace that had overtaken him? He had\nbeen an unprincipled spendthrift all his life, and now the punishment\nhad come, and was swallowing up others in its ruin. If he had not been\nthe reckless, extravagant man that he was, he might at this moment be a\nharbor of refuge to Raymond, and save his child from a premature death.\nBut he was powerless to help any one. This is what his slavish human\nrespect had brought himself and others to. A few hundred pounds might\nsave, or at any rate prolong for perhaps many years, the life of the\nchild he professed to love as his own, and he had not them to give; he\nhad squandered his splendid patrimony in the most contemptible vanity,\nin selfish indulgence and unprofitable show. And there he sat, a piece\nof tinsel glittering like true gold, affable, jovial, as if care were a\nhundred miles away from him. M. de la Bourbonais felt as if he were in a\ndream, as if everything were unreal--everything except the vulture that\nwas gnawing silently at his own heart.\n\nThe conversation grew livelier as the wine went round. Mr. Plover was\nattending carefully to his dinner, and was content to let others do the\nmost of the talking. A discussion arose as to a case of something very\nlike perjury that a magistrate of the next county had been involved in.\nSome were warmly defending, while others as warmly condemned, him. Mr.\nPlover suspended the diligence of his knife and fork to join with the\nlatter; he was almost aggressive in his manner of contradicting the other\nside. The story was this: A magistrate had to judge a case of libel\nwhere the accused was a friend of his own, who had saved him from being\nmade a bankrupt some years before by lending him a large sum of money\nwithout interest or security. The evidence broke down, and the man was\nacquitted. It transpired, however, a few days later, that the magistrate\nhad in his possession at the time of the trial proof positive of his\nfriend\u2019s guilt. In answer to this charge he replied that the evidence in\nquestion had come to his knowledge under the seal of confidence; that he\nwas therefore bound in honor not only not to divulge it, but to ignore\nits existence in forming his judgment on the case. The statement was\ndenied, and it was affirmed that the only seal which bound him was one of\ngratitude, and that he was otherwise perfectly free to make use of his\ninformation to condemn the accused.\n\nThe dispute as to the right and the wrong of the question was growing\nhot, when Sir Ponsonby Anwyll, who noticed how silent Raymond was, called\nout to him across the table:\n\n\u201cAnd what do you say, count?\u201d\n\n\u201cI should say that gratitude in such a case might stand in the place of a\nverbal promise and compel the judge to be silent,\u201d replied Raymond.\n\n\u201cThe temptation to silence was very strong, no doubt, but would it\njustify him in pronouncing an acquittal against his conscience?\u201d asked\nMr. Langrove.\n\n\u201cIt was not against his conscience,\u201d replied the count; \u201con the contrary,\nit was in accordance with it, since it was on the side of mercy.\u201d\n\n\u201cQuite a French view of the subject!\u201d said Mr. Plover superciliously,\nshowing his shining teeth through his coal-black moustache. \u201cIf I were\na criminal, commend me to a French jury; but if innocent, give me an\nEnglish one!\u201d\n\n\u201cMercy has perhaps too much the upper hand with our tender-hearted\nneighbors,\u201d observed Sir Simon; \u201cbut justice is none the worse for being\ntempered with it.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is neither here nor there,\u201d said Mr. Plover. \u201cJustice is justice,\nand law is law; and it strikes me this Mr. X---- has tampered with both,\nand it\u2019s a very strange thing if he is not tabooed as a perjurer who has\ndodged the letter of the law and escaped the hulks, but whom no gentleman\nought from this out to associate with.\u201d\n\n\u201cCome, come, that is rather strong language,\u201d said Mr. Langrove. \u201cWe must\nnot outlaw on mere inferential evidence a man who has borne all his life\na most honorable name; and if worse comes to worst, we must remember\nit would go hard with the best of us to put a social brand on a friend\nthat we were deeply indebted to, if we could by any possibility find a\nloophole of escape for him. A man may remain strictly honest in the main,\nand yet not be heroic enough not to save a friend on a quibble.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, to be sure; there are honest men and honest men,\u201d assented Plover.\n\u201cI\u2019ve known some whose moral capacity expanded to camels when expediency\ndemanded the feat and it could be done discreetly. It\u2019s astounding what\nsome of these honest men can swallow.\u201d\n\nSir Simon felt what this speech implied of impertinence to Mr. Langrove,\nand, indeed, to everybody present. \u201cRoxham,\u201d he said irrelevantly, \u201cwhy\nis your glass empty? Bourbonais, are you passing those delectable little\n_pat\u00e9s de foie gras_?\u201d\n\nRaymond helped himself mechanically, as the servant presented again the\nrejected dish.\n\n\u201cIt would be a nice thing to define exactly the theory of truth and its\nprecise limits,\u201d observed Mr. Langrove in his serious, sententious way,\naddressing himself to no one in particular.\n\n\u201cOne should begin by defining the nature of truth, I suppose,\u201d said Mr.\nPlover. \u201cLet us have a definition from our host!\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! if you are going in for metaphysics, I hand you over to Bourbonais!\u201d\nsaid Sir Simon good-humoredly. \u201cTake the pair of them in hand, Raymond,\nand run them through the body for our edification.\u201d\n\nRaymond smiled.\n\n\u201cI should very much like to have the count\u2019s opinion on this particular\npoint of metaphysics or morals, whichever it may be,\u201d said Mr. Plover.\n\u201cDo you believe it possible for a man to effect such a compromise with\nhis conscience, and yet be, as our reverend friend describes him, a\nblameless and upright man?\u201d\n\n\u201cI do,\u201d answered M. de la Bourbonais with quiet emphasis. \u201cI doubt if\nany simple incident can with safety be taken as the key of a man\u2019s\ncharacter. One fault, for instance, may stand out in his life and color\nit with dishonor, and yet be a far less trustworthy index to his real\nnature than, a very slight fault committed deliberately and involving no\nconsequences. We are more deliberate in little misdeeds than in great\nones. When a man commits a crime, he is not always a free agent as\nregards the command of his moral forces; there are generally a horde of\nexternal influences at work overpowering his choice, which is in reality\nhis individual self. When he succumbs to this pressure from without,\nwe cannot therefore logically consider him as the sole and deliberate\narchitect of his sin; hard necessity, fear of disgrace, love of life,\nnay, some generous feeling, such as gratitude or pity, may hurry a man\ninto a criminal action as completely at variance with the whole of his\nprevious and subsequent life as would be the act of a Christian flinging\nhimself out of the window in a fit of temporary insanity.\u201d\n\n\u201cSubtly put,\u201d sneered Mr. Plover. \u201cIf we were to follow up that theory,\nwe might find it necessary on investigation to raise statues to our\nforgers and murderers, instead of sending them to the hulks and the\ngallows.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt opens a curious train of thought, nevertheless,\u201d remarked Lord Roxham.\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t fancy it would be a very profitable one to pursue,\u201d said Plover.\n\n\u201cI have sometimes considered whether it may not on given occasions be\njustifiable to do evil; I mean technically evil, as we class things,\u201d\nsaid Lord Roxham.\n\n\u201cFor instance?\u201d said Mr. Langrove.\n\n\u201cWell, for instance--I\u2019ll put it mildly--to convey a false idea of facts,\nas your friend X---- seems to have done in this libel business. I suppose\nthere are cases where it would be morally justifiable?\u201d\n\n\u201cTo tell a lie, you mean? That is a startling proposition,\u201d said the\nvicar, smiling.\n\n\u201cIt has the merit of originality, at least,\u201d observed Mr. Plover, helping\nhimself to a tumblerful of claret.\n\n\u201cI\u2019m afraid it can\u2019t boast even that,\u201d said Lord Roxham; \u201cit is only an\nold sophism rather bluntly put.\u201d\n\n\u201cI should like to hear the Count de la Bourbonais\u2019 opinion on it,\u201d said\nMr. Plover, rolling the decanter across to his self-elected antagonist.\n\nRaymond had feigned unconsciousness of the stranger\u2019s insolent tone thus\nfar, though he had detected it from the first, and was only too deeply\npossessed by other thoughts to resent it or to care a straw for what\nthis stranger or any human being thought of him or said to him. But the\npersistency of the attack forced him to notice it at last, if not to\nrepel it; he was not sufficiently interested in the thing for that. But\nhe was roused from the kind of stinging lethargy in which he had hitherto\nsat there, nibbling at one thing or another, oftener playing with his\nknife and fork, and touching nothing. He laid them down now, and pushed\naside his glass, which had been emptied to-night oftener than was his\nwont.\n\n\u201cYou mean to ask,\u201d he said, \u201cif, according to our low French code of\nmorals, we consider it justifiable to commit a crime for the sake of some\ngood to ourselves or others?\u201d\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t go quite that length,\u201d replied Mr. Plover; \u201cbut I assume from\nwhat you have already said that you look on it as permissible to--tell a\nlie, for example, under given circumstances.\u201d\n\n\u201cI do,\u201d said Raymond.\n\nThere was a murmur of surprise and dissent.\n\n\u201cMy dear Bourbonais! you are joking, or talking for the mere sake of\nargument,\u201d cried Sir Simon, forcing a laugh; but he looked vexed and\nastonished.\n\n\u201cI am not joking, nor am I arguing for argument\u2019s sake,\u201d protested\nRaymond with rising warmth. \u201cI say, and I am prepared to prove it, that\nunder given circumstances we are justified in withholding the truth--in\ntelling a lie, if you like that way of putting it better.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat are they?\u201d\n\n\u201cProve it!\u201d\n\n\u201cLet us hear!\u201d\n\nSeveral spoke together, excited and surprised, and every head was bent\ntowards M. de la Bourbonais. Raymond moved his spectacles, and, fixing\nhis dark gray eyes on Mr. Plover as the one who had directly challenged\nhim, he said:\n\n\u201cLet us take an illustration. Suppose you entrust me with that costly\ndiamond ring upon your finger, I having promised on my oath to carry\nit to a certain person and to keep its possession a secret. We will\nsuppose that your life and your honor depend on its being delivered at\nits destination by me and at a given time. On my way thither I meet an\nassassin, who puts his pistol to my breast and says, \u2018Deliver up your\npurse and a diamond which I understand you have on your person, or I\nshoot you and take them; but if you give me your word that you have not\ngot it, I will believe you and let you go.\u2019 Am I not justified, in order\nto save your honor and life and my own in answering, \u2018No, I have not got\nthe diamond\u2019?\u201d\n\n\u201cCertainly not!\u201d cried Plover emphatically, bringing his jewelled hand\ndown on the table with a crash.\n\n\u201cMy dear sir!\u2026\u201d began some one; but Raymond echoed sharply:\n\n\u201c\u2018Certainly not!\u2019 Just so. But suppose I draw my pistol and shoot the\nrobber dead on the spot? God and the law absolve me; I have a right\nto kill any man who threatens my life or my property, or that of my\nneighbor.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou have! Undoubtedly you have!\u201d said two or three, speaking together.\n\n\u201cAnd yet homicide is a greater sin than a lie!\u201d cried Raymond. He was\nflushed and excited; his eye sparkled and his hand trembled as he pushed\nthe glasses farther away, and leaned on the table, surveying the company\nwith a glance that had something of triumph and something of defiance in\nit.\n\n\u201cWell done, Bourbonais!\u201d cried Sir Simon. \u201cYou\u2019ve not left Plover an inch\nof ground to stand on!\u201d\n\n\u201cClosely reasoned,\u201d said Mr. Langrove, with a dubious movement of the\nhead; \u201cbut.\u2026\u201d\n\n\u201cSophistry! a very specious bit of sophistry!\u201d said Mr. Plover in a loud\nvoice, drowning everybody else\u2019s. \u201cComte and Rousseau and the rest of\nthem in a nutshell.\u201d\n\n\u201cCrack it, then, and let\u2019s have the kernel!\u201d said Lord Roxham. He was\ngrowing out of patience with the dictatorial tone of this vulgar man.\n\n\u201cJust so!\u201d chimed in Mr. Charlton, airing a snowy hand and signet gem,\nand falling back in his chair with the air of a man wearied with hard\nthinking.\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s too preposterous to answer,\u201d was Plover\u2019s evasive taunt; \u201cit\u2019s mere\ncasuistry.\u201d\n\n\u201cA very compact bit of casuistry, at any rate,\u201d said Sir Simon, with\nfriendly pride in Raymond\u2019s manifest superiority over his assembled\nguests; \u201cit strikes me it would take more than our combined wits to\nanswer it.\u201d\n\n\u201cEgad! I\u2019d eat my head before _I\u2019d_ answer it!\u201d confessed Ponsonby\nAnwyll, who shared the baronet\u2019s personal complacency in the count\u2019s\nsuperior brain. But Raymond had lapsed into his previous silent mood, and\nsat absently toying with a plate of bonbons before him, and apparently\ndeaf to the clashing of tongues that he had provoked. There was something\nvery touching in his look, in the air of gentle dejection that pervaded\nhim, and which contrasted strikingly with the transient warmth he had\ndisplayed while speaking. Sir Simon noticed it, and it smote him to\nthe heart. For the first time this evening he bethought him how his\nown cheerfulness must strike Raymond, and how he must be puzzled to\naccount for it. He promised himself the pleasure of explaining it to\nhis satisfaction before they parted to-night; but meanwhile it gave him\na pang to think of the iron that was in his friend\u2019s soul, though it\nwas part of his pleasant expectation that he would be able to draw it\nout and pour some healing balm on the wound to-morrow. He would show\nhim why he had borne so patiently with the vulgar pedagogue who had\npermitted himself to fail, at least by insinuation, in respect to M. de\nla Bourbonais. The pedagogue meanwhile seemed bent on making himself\ndisagreeable to the inoffensive foreigner.\n\n\u201cIt is a pity X---- was not able to secure Count de la Bourbonais as\ncounsel,\u201d he began again. \u201cIn the hands of so skilful a casuist his\nbacksliding might have come out quite in a heroic light. It would have\nbeen traced to his poverty, which engendered his gratitude, and so on\nuntil we had a verdict that would have been virtually a glorification of\nimpecuniosity. It is a pity we have missed the treat.\u201d\n\n\u201cPoverty is no doubt responsible for many backslidings,\u201d said Raymond,\nbridling imperceptibly. He felt the sting of the remark as addressed to\nhim by the rich man, or he fancied he did. \u201cThe world would no doubt be\nbetter as well as happier if riches were more equally divided; but there\nare worse things in the world than poverty, for all that.\u201d\n\n\u201cThere is the excess of riches, which is infinitely worse--a more\nunmitigated source of evil, taking it all in all,\u201d said Mr. Langrove.\n\n\u201cWell said for a professional, my dear sir,\u201d laughed Mr. Plover; \u201cbut\nyou won\u2019t find many outsiders to agree with you, I suspect.\u201d\n\n\u201cIf by outsiders you mean Turks, Jews, and Hottentots, I daresay you are\nright,\u201d said the vicar good-temperedly.\n\n\u201cI mean every sensible man who is not bound by his cloth to talk cant--no\noffence; I use the word technically--you won\u2019t find one such out of a\nthousand to deny that riches are the best gift of heaven, the one that\ncan buy every other worth having--love and devotion into the bargain.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat rank heresy you are propounding, my dear sir!\u201d exclaimed Sir Simon,\ntaking a pinch from his enamelled snuff-box, and passing it on. \u201cYou will\nnot find one sane man in a thousand to agree with you!\u201d\n\n\u201cWon\u2019t I though? What do you say, count?\u201d\n\n\u201cI agree with you, monsieur,\u201d said Raymond with a certain asperity;\n\u201cmoney can purchase most things worth having, but I deny that it can\nalways pay for them.\u201d\n\n\u201cHa! there we have the sophist again. It can buy, and yet it can\u2019t pay.\nPray explain!\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat do you mean, Raymond?\u201d said Sir Simon, darting a curious, puzzled\nlook at his friend.\n\n\u201cIt is very simple. I mean that money may sometimes enable us to confer\nan obligation which no money can repay. We may, for instance, do a\nservice or avert a sorrow by means of a sum of money, and thus purchase\nlove and gratitude--things which Mr. Plover has included in those worth\nhaving, and which money cannot pay for, though it may be the means of\nbuying them.\u201d The look that accompanied the answer said more to Sir Simon\nthan the words conveyed to any one else. He averted his eyes quickly,\nand was all at once horrified to discover several empty glasses round the\ntable. They were at dessert now.\n\n\u201cCharlton, have you tried that Madeira? Help yourself again, and pass it\non here, will you? I shall have to play Ganymede, and go round pouring\nout the nectar to you like so many gods, if you don\u2019t bestir yourselves.\u201d\n\nAnd then there was a clinking of glasses, as the amber and ruby liquid\nwas poured from many a curious flagon into the glistening crystal cups.\n\n\u201cTalking of gods, that\u2019s a god\u2019s eye that you see there on Plover\u2019s\nfinger,\u201d observed Mr. Charlton, whose azure gem was quite eclipsed by the\nflashing jewel that had suggested M. de la Bourbonais\u2019 illustration. \u201cIt\nwas set in the forehead of an Indian idol. Just let Sir Simon look at\nit; he\u2019s a judge of precious stones,\u201d said the young man, who felt that\nhis feeble personality gained something from the proximity of so big a\npersonage, and was anxious to show him off. The latter complacently drew\nthe ring from his finger and tossed it over to his host. It was a large\nwhite diamond of the purest water, without the shadow of a flaw.\n\n\u201cIt _is_ a beauty!\u201d exclaimed Sir Simon with the enthusiasm of a\nconnoisseur; \u201conly it\u2019s too good to be worn by a man. It ought to have\ngone to a beautiful woman when it left the god. I suppose it will soon,\neh, Plover?\u201d\n\nMr. Plover laughed. He was not a marrying man, he said, but he would\nmake no rash vows. Then he went on to tell about other precious stones\nin his possession. He had some amazingly sensational stories to relate\nconcerning them and how he became possessed of them. We generally\ninterest others when we get on a subject that thoroughly interests\nourselves and that we thoroughly understand. Mr. Plover understood a\ngreat deal about these legendary gems, and the celebrated idols in which\nthey had figured; he had, moreover, imbibed a certain tinge of Oriental\nsuperstition concerning the talismanic properties of precious gems, and\ninvested them, perhaps half unconsciously, with that kind of prestige\nthat is not very far off from worship. This flavor of superstition\npierced unawares through his discourse on the qualities and adventures\nof various rubies and sapphires that had played stirring parts in the\ndestinies of particular gods, and were universally believed to influence\nfor good or evil the lives of mortals who became possessed of them.\n\nThe company began to find him less disagreeable as he went on. They did\nnot quite believe in him; but when a story-teller amuses us, we are not\napt to quarrel with him for using a traveller\u2019s privilege and drawing the\nlong bow.\n\nBy the time this vein was exhausted the party had quite forgiven\nthe obnoxious guest, and admitted him within the sympathetic ring\nof good-fellowship and conviviality. M. de la Bourbonais had become\nunusually talkative, and contributed his full share to the ebb and flow\nof lively repartee. He was generally as abstemious as an anchorite; but\nto-night he broke through his ascetic habits, and filled and refilled his\nglass many times. It was deep drinking for him, though for any one else\nit would have been reckoned moderate. Before the dessert was long on the\ntable the effect of the wine was visible in his excited manner and the\nshrill tone of his voice, that rose high and sharp above the others in a\nway that was quite foreign to his gentleness. Sir Simon saw this, and at\nonce divined the cause. It gave him a new pang. Poor Raymond! Driven to\nthis to keep his misery from bursting out and overwhelming him!\n\n\u201cShall we finish our cigars here or in the library?\u201d asked the baronet\nwhen his own tired limbs suggested that a change of posture might be\ngenerally agreeable.\n\nAs by tacit consent, the chairs were all pushed back and everybody rose.\nThe clock in the hall was striking ten.\n\n\u201cDo you know I think I must be going?\u201d said Mr. Langrove. \u201cTime slips\nquickly by in pleasant company; I had no idea it was so late!\u201d\n\n\u201cNonsense! you are not going to leave us yet!\u201d protested Sir Simon.\n\u201cDon\u2019t mind the clocks here; they\u2019re on wheels.\u201d\n\n\u201cAre they?\u201d said the vicar, and innocently pulled out his watch to\ncompare it with the loud chime that was still trembling in the air.\n\u201cHumph! I see your wheels are five minutes slower than mine!\u201d he said,\nwith a nod and a laugh at his prevaricating host.\n\n\u201cCome, now, Langrove, never mind the time. \u2018Hours were made for slaves,\u2019\nyou know. Come in and have another cigar,\u201d urged Sir Simon.\n\nBut the vicar was firm.\n\n\u201cThen I may as well go with you,\u201d said M. de la Bourbonais; \u201cit\u2019s late\nalready for me to be out.\u201d\n\nSir Simon was beginning to protest, when his attention was called away by\nLord Roxham.\n\n\u201cHave you that diamond ring, Harness?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat ring? Plover\u2019s? No; I passed it to you to look at, and it didn\u2019t\ncome round to me again. Can it not be found?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! it\u2019s sure to turn up in a minute!\u201d said Mr. Plover. \u201cIt has slipped\nunder the edge of a plate, very likely!\u201d And he went to the table and\nbegan to look for it.\n\n\u201cCome, let us be going, as we are going,\u201d said M. de la Bourbonais to the\nvicar, and he went towards the door.\n\n\u201cWait a bit,\u201d replied Mr. Langrove--\u201cwait a moment, Bourbonais; we must\nsee the end of this.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat have we to see in it? It is no concern of ours,\u201d was the slightly\nimpatient rejoinder. Raymond was in that state of unnatural excitement\nwhen the least trifle that crosses us chafes and irritates. He had\nnothing for it, however, but to comply with the vicar\u2019s fancy and wait.\n\n\u201cMost extraordinary!\u201d Sir Simon exclaimed, as crystal dishes and\nporcelain plates were lifted and moved, and silver filigree baskets\noverturned and their delicate fruits sent rolling in every direction. \u201cIt\nmust have dropped; stand aside, everybody, while I look under the table.\u201d\nEvery one drew off. Sir Simon flung up the ends of the snowy cloth, and,\ntaking a chandelier with several lights, set it on the floor and began\ncarefully to examine the carpet; but the ring was nowhere to be seen.\n\n\u201cIf it is here, it is certain to be seen,\u201d he said, still bent down.\n\u201cLook out, all of you, as you stand; you may see it flash better in the\ndistance.\u201d\n\nBut no flash was anywhere visible. The wax-lights discovered nothing\nbrighter than the subdued colors of the rich Persian carpet. Sir Simon\nwent round to the other side of the table, and searched with the same\ncare and the same result.\n\n\u201cYou are not an absent man, are you?\u201d he said, lifting the chandelier\nfrom the ground, and addressing the owner of the missing ring. \u201cYou are\nnot capable of slipping it into your pocket unawares?\u201d\n\n\u201cI never did such a thing in my life; but that is no reason why I may not\nhave done it now. Old wine sometimes plays the deuce with one,\u201d said Mr.\nPlover, and he began to rummage his pockets and turn their contents on to\nthe table-cloth. Its whiteness threw every article into vivid relief; but\nthere was no ring.\n\n\u201cThis is very singular, very extraordinary indeed!\u201d said Sir Simon in\na sharp tone of annoyance. \u201cIs any one hoaxing? Charlton, you\u2019re not\nplaying a trick on us, are you?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat should I play such a stupid trick as that for?\u201d demanded the young\nman. \u201cI\u2019m not such an idiot; but here goes! Let us have my pockets on the\ntable too!\u201d\n\nAnd following his friend\u2019s example, he turned them inside out, coat,\nwaistcoat, and trousers pockets in succession; but no ring appeared.\n\n\u201cIt is time we all followed suit,\u201d said Sir Simon, and he cleared a\nlarger space by sweeping away plates and glasses. \u201cI am given to absence\nof mind myself, and, as you say, I may have taken a glass more than was\ngood for me.\u201d\n\nAs he spoke he turned out one pocket after another, with no other result\nthan to show the solidity and unblemished freshness of the linings; there\nwas not a slit or the sign of one anywhere where a diamond ring, or a\ndiamond without a ring, could have slipped through.\n\n\u201cWell, gentlemen, I invite you all to follow my example!\u201d said the host,\nstepping back from the table, and motioning for any one that liked to\nadvance. His voice had a ring of command in it that would have compelled\nobedience if that had been necessary; but it did not seem to be so. One\nafter another the guests came up and repeated the operation, while the\nowner of the ring watched them with a face that grew darker with every\ndisappointment. Mr. Langrove and M. de la Bourbonais were standing\nsomewhat apart from the rest near the door, and were now the only two\nthat remained. The vicar came first. He submitted his pockets to the same\nrigorous scrutiny, and with the same result. A strange gleam passed over\nMr. Plover\u2019s features, as he turned his sallow face in the direction of\nM. de la Bourbonais. Suspicion and hope had now narrowed to this last\ntrial. Raymond did not move. \u201cCome on, Bourbonais; I have done!\u201d said\nMr. Langrove, consigning his spectacles and his handkerchief to his last\npocket.\n\nBut Raymond remained immovable, as if he were glued to the carpet.\n\n\u201cCome, my dear friend, come!\u201d Sir Simon called out, in a voice that was\nmeant only to be kind and encouraging, but in which those who knew its\ntones detected a nervous note.\n\n\u201cI will not!\u201d said the count in a sharp, high key. \u201cI will not submit to\nsuch an indignity; it has been got up for the purpose of insulting me. I\nrefuse to submit to it!\u201d\n\nHe turned to leave the room.\n\n\u201cRaymond, you are mad! You _must_ do it!\u201d cried Sir Simon imperatively.\n\n\u201cI am not mad! I am poor!\u201d retorted the count, facing round and darting\neyes of defiance at Sir Simon. \u201cThis person, who calls himself a\ngentleman, has insulted me from the moment I sat down to table with him,\nand you allowed him to do it. He taunted me with my poverty; he would\nmake out now that because I am poor I am a thief! I have borne with him\nso far because I was at your table; but there is a limit to what I will\nbear. I will not submit to the outrage he wants to put upon me.\u201d\n\nAgain he turned towards the door.\n\n\u201cYou shall hand out my ring before you stir from here, my fine sir!\u201d\ncried Mr. Plover, taking a stride after him, and stretching out an arm\nas if to clutch him; but Sir Simon quick as thought intercepted him by\nlaying a hand on the outstretched arm, while Ponsonby Anwyll stepped\nforward and placed his tall, broad figure like a bulwark between Raymond\nand his assailant.\n\n\u201cLet me go!\u201d said the latter, shaking himself to get free from the\nbaronet\u2019s clasp; but the long, firm fingers closed on him like grim death.\n\n\u201cYou shall not touch M. de la Bourbonais in my presence,\u201d he said; \u201cyou\nhave insulted him, as he says, already. If I had seen that he detected\nwhat was offensive in your tone and manner, I would not have suffered it\nto pass. Stand back, and leave me to deal with him!\u201d\n\n\u201cConfound the beggar! Let him give me my ring! I don\u2019t want to touch him;\nbut as I live he doesn\u2019t stir from this room till I\u2019ve seen his breeches\npocket turned wrong-side out!\u201d\n\nThe man had been drinking heavily, and, though he was still to all\nintents and purposes sober, this excitement, added to that caused by\nthe wine, heated his blood to boiling-point. He looked as if he would\nhave flown at Raymond; but cowed by Sir Simon\u2019s cool self-command and\ndetermined will, he fell back a step, fastening his eyes on Raymond with\na savage glare.\n\nRaymond meantime continued obstinate and impracticable. Mr. Langrove took\nhis hand in both his, and in the gentlest way entreated him to desist\nfrom his suicidal folly; assuring him that he was the last man present\nwhom any one in his senses would dream of suspecting of a theft, of the\nfaintest approach to anything dishonorable, but that it was sheer madness\nto refuse to clear himself in the eyes of this stranger. It was a mere\nform, and meant no more for him than for the rest of them. But Raymond\nturned a deaf ear to his pleading.\n\n\u201cLet me go! I will not do it! He has been insulting me from the\nbeginning. I will not submit to this,\u201d he repeated, and shook himself\nfree from Mr. Langrove\u2019s friendly grasp.\n\nSir Simon came close up to him. He was pale and agitated in spite of his\naffected coolness, and his hand shook as he laid it on Raymond\u2019s shoulder.\n\n\u201cRaymond, for my sake, for God\u2019s sake!\u201d he muttered.\n\nBut Raymond thrust away his hand, and said with bitter scorn: \u201cHa! I am a\nbeggar, and so I must be a thief! No, I will not clear myself! Let this\nrich man go and proclaim me a thief!\u201d And breaking away from them all, he\ndashed out of the room.\n\n\u201cHold! Stop him, or by ---- I\u2019ll make hot work of it for you!\u201d shouted\nMr. Plover, making for the door; but Ponsonby Anwyll set his back to it,\nand defied him to pass. If the other had been brave enough to try, it\nwould have been a hopeless attempt; his attenuated body was no match\nfor the stalwart limbs of the young squire. He involuntarily recoiled as\nif Ponsonby\u2019s arms, stoutly crossed on his breast, had dealt him a blow.\nLord Roxham and Mr. Charlton pressed round him, expostulating and trying\nto calm him. This was no easy task, and they knew it. They were terribly\nshaken themselves, and they felt that it was absurd to expect this\nstranger, fuming for his diamond, to believe that M. de la Bourbonais had\nnot taken it.\n\n\u201cNo one but a madman would have done such a thing, when it\u2019s as certain\nas death to be found out,\u201d said Sir Ponsonby, whose faith in Raymond was\nsustained by another faith. \u201cBesides, we all know he\u2019s no more capable of\nit than we are ourselves!\u201d\n\n\u201cVery fine talk, but where is the ring? Who has taken it, if not this\nFrenchman? I tell you what, he will be making out that it was his right\nand his duty to steal from a rich man to help a poor one. Perhaps he\u2019s\nhard up just now, and he blesses Providence for the opportunity.\u201d\n\n\u201cRemember, sir, that you are speaking of a gentleman who is my friend,\nand whom I know to be incapable of an unworthy action,\u201d said Sir Simon in\na stern and haughty tone.\n\n\u201cI compliment you on your friends; it sha\u2019n\u2019t be my fault if you don\u2019t\nsee this one at the hulks before long. But curse me! now I think of it,\nI\u2019m at your mercy, all of you. I have to depend on you as witnesses, and\nit seems the fashion in these parts for gentlemen to perjure themselves\nto screen a friend; you will most likely refuse to swear to facts--if you\ndon\u2019t swear against them, eh?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou must be drunk; you don\u2019t know what you\u2019re talking about,\u201d said Mr.\nCharlton, forgetting to drawl, and speaking quickly like a sensible man.\n\u201cIt is as premature as it is absurd to imagine the ring is stolen; it\nmust be in the room, and it must be found.\u201d\n\n\u201cIn the room or out of it, it must and it shall be found!\u201d echoed Mr.\nPlover, \u201cor if not.\u2026\u201d\n\n\u201cIf not, it shall be paid for,\u201d added Mr. Charlton; \u201cit shall be\nreplaced.\u201d\n\n\u201cReplaced! All you\u2019re worth could not buy a stone like that one!\u201d\n\n\u201cNot its duplicate as a god\u2019s eye invested with magical virtue,\u201d said Mr.\nCharlton ironically; \u201cbut its value in the market can be paid, I suppose.\nWhat price do you put on it?\u201d\n\n\u201cAs a mere stone it is worth five hundred pounds to any jeweller in\nLondon.\u201d\n\n\u201cFive hundred pounds!\u201d repeated several in chorus with Mr. Charlton.\n\nSir Simon said nothing. A mist came before his eyes. He saw Raymond in\nthe grip of this cruel man, and he was powerless to release him. If the\ndread was an act of disloyalty to Raymond, Sir Simon was scarcely to\nblame. He would have signed away five years of his life that moment to\nsee M. de la Bourbonais cleared of the suspicion that he had so insanely\nfastened on himself; but how could he help doubting? He knew as no one\nelse knew what the power of the temptation was which had--had it?--goaded\nhim to the mad act. Its madness was the strongest argument against its\npossibility. To pocket a ring worth five hundred pounds--worth five\npounds--in the very teeth of the person it belonged to, and with the\nclear certainty of being immediately detected--no one in his right mind\nwould have done such a thing. But was Raymond in his right mind when\nhe did it? Had he been in his right mind since he entered the house\nto-night? There is such a thing as delirium of the heart from sorrow or\ndespair. Then he had been drinking a great deal more than usual, and wine\nbeguiles men to acts of frenzy unawares. If Sir Simon could even say to\nthis man, \u201cI will pay you the five hundred pounds\u201d; but he had not as\nmany pence to call his own. There had been a momentary silence after the\nexclamation of surprise that followed the announcement of the value of\nthe diamond. Would Mr. Charlton not ratify his offer to pay for it? And\nif he did not, what could save Raymond?\n\n\u201cFive hundred pounds! You are joking!\u201d said the young man.\n\n\u201cWe\u2019ll see whether I am or not! I had the diamond valued with several\nothers at Vienna, where it was set,\u201d said Mr. Plover.\n\n\u201cConsider me your debtor for the amount,\u201d said Sir Ponsonby Anwyll,\nstepping forward; \u201cif the ring is not found to-night, I will sign you a\ncheck for five hundred pounds.\u201d\n\n\u201cLet us begin and look for it in good earnest,\u201d said Lord Roxham. \u201cWe\nwill divide; two will go at each side of the table and hunt for it\nthoroughly. It must have rolled somewhere into a crevice or a corner.\u201d\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t see how a ring was likely to roll on this,\u201d said Mr.\nPlover, scratching the thick pile of the carpet with the tip of his\npatent-leather boot.\n\n\u201cSome of us may have kicked it to a distance in pushing back our\nchairs,\u201d suggested Mr. Langrove; \u201clet us set the lights on the floor, and\ndivide as Lord Roxham proposes.\u201d\n\nEvery one seized a chandelier or a lamp and set it on the floor, and\nbegan to prosecute the search. They had hardly been two minutes thus\nengaged when a loud ring was heard, and after a momentary delay the door\nopened and M. de la Bourbonais walked in.\n\n\u201cGood heavens, Bourbonais! is it you?\u201d cried Sir Simon, rising from his\nknees and hastening to meet him.\n\nBut Raymond, with a haughty gesture, waved him off.\n\nThey were all on their feet in a moment, full of wonder and expectation.\n\n\u201cI made a mistake in refusing to submit to the examination you asked of\nme,\u201d said the count, addressing himself to all collectively. \u201cI was wrong\nto listen only to personal indignation in the matter; I saw only a poor\nman insulted by a rich one. I have come back to repair my mistake. See\nnow for yourselves, and, if you like, examine every corner of my clothes.\u201d\n\nHe advanced to the table, intending to suit the action to the words, when\na burst of derisive laughter was heard at the other end of the room. It\nwas from Mr. Plover. The others were looking on silent and confounded.\n\n\u201cDo you take us all for so many born fools?\u201d cried Mr. Plover, and he\nlaughed again a short, contemptuous laugh that went through Raymond\u2019s\nveins.\n\nHe stood there, his right hand plunged into his pocket in the act of\ndrawing out its contents, but arrested by the sound of that mocking\nlaugh, and by the chill silence that followed. He cast a quick,\nquestioning glance at the surrounding faces; pity, surprise, regret,\nwere variously depicted there, but neither confidence nor congratulation\nwere visible anywhere. A gleam of light shot suddenly through his mind.\nHe drew out his hand and passed it slowly over his forehead.\n\n\u201cMy God, have pity on me!\u201d he murmured almost inaudibly, and turned away.\n\n\u201cRaymond! listen to me.\u201d Sir Simon hurried after him.\n\nBut the door was closed. Raymond was gone. Sir Simon followed into the\nhall, but he did not overtake him; the great door closed with a bang, and\nthe friend he loved best on earth was beyond his hearing, rushing wildly\non in the darkness and under the rain, that was falling in torrents.\n\nThe apparition had come and gone so quickly that the spectators might\nhave doubted whether they had not dreamt it or seen a ghost. No one\nspoke, until Mr. Plover broke out with a hoarse laugh and an oath:\n\n\u201cIf the fellow has not half convinced me of his innocence! He\u2019s too great\na fool to be a thief!\u201d\n\n\u201cUntil he has been proved a thief, you will be good enough not to apply\nthe term to Monsieur de la Bourbonais under my roof,\u201d said Sir Simon.\n\u201cNow, gentlemen, we will resume our search.\u201d\n\nThey did, and prosecuted it with the utmost care and patience for more\nthan an hour; but the only effect was to fasten suspicion more closely on\nthe absent.\n\nMr. Plover was so triumphant one would have fancied the justification of\nhis vindictive suspicion was a compensation for the loss of his gem.\n\n\u201cHave you a pen and ink here, or shall I go into the library? I want to\nwrite the check,\u201d said Ponsonby.\n\n\u201cYou will find everything you want in the library,\u201d said Sir Simon,\nand Ponsonby went in. Some one rang, and the carriages and horses were\nordered. In a few minutes Ponsonby returned with the check, which he\nhanded to Mr. Plover.\n\n\u201cIf you require any one to attest my solvency, I dare say Charlton, whom\nyou can trust, will have no objection to do it,\u201d he remarked.\n\n\u201cCertainly not!\u201d said Mr. Charlton promptly.\n\n\u201cOh! it\u2019s not necessary; I\u2019m quite satisfied with Sir Ponsonby Anwyll\u2019s\nsignature,\u201d Mr. Plover replied. And as he pocketed the check he went to\nthe window and raised the curtain to see if Mr. Charlton\u2019s brougham had\ncome round. The rest of the company were saying good-by, cordial but sad.\nSir Simon and the young squire of Rydal stood apart, conversing in an\nearnest, subdued voice.\n\n\u201cHave you a trap waiting, or shall I drop you at the vicarage?\u201d inquired\nLord Roxham of Mr. Langrove.\n\n\u201cThank you! I shall be very glad,\u201d said the vicar. \u201cThe night promised to\nbe so fine I said I would walk home.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou will have a wet ride of it, Anwyll; is not that your horse I see?\u201d\ncried Mr. Charlton from the window, where he had followed his ill-omened\nfriend. \u201cHad you not better leave him here for the night, and let me give\nyou a lift home?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! thank you, no; I don\u2019t mind a drenching, and it would take you too\nfar out of your way.\u201d\n\nMr. Plover and Mr. Charlton were leaving the room when Sir Simon\u2019s voice\narrested them.\n\n\u201cOne moment, Charlton! Mr. Plover, pray wait a second. I need not\nassure any one present how deeply distressed I am by what has occurred\nto-night--distressed on behalf of every one concerned. I know you all\nshare this feeling with me, and I trust you will not refuse me the only\nalleviation in your power.\u201d\n\nHe stopped for a moment, while his hearers turned eager, responsive faces\ntowards him.\n\n\u201cI ask you as a proof of friendship, of personal regard and kindness to\nmyself, to be silent concerning what has happened under my roof to-night;\nto let it remain buried here amongst ourselves. Will you grant me this,\nprobably the last favor I shall ever ask of you?\u201d\n\nHis voice trembled a little; and his friends were touched, though they\ndid not see where the last words pointed.\n\nThere was a murmur of assent from all, with one exception.\n\n\u201cPlover, I hope I may include your promise with that of my older\nfriends?\u201d continued the baronet, his voice still betraying emotion. \u201cI\nhave no right, it is true, to claim such an act of self-denial at your\nhands; I know,\u201d he added with a faint laugh that was not ironical, only\nsad--\u201cI know that it is a comfort to us all to talk of our misfortunes\nand complain of them to sympathizing acquaintances; but I appeal to you\nas a gentleman to forego that satisfaction, in order to save me from a\nbitter mortification.\u201d\n\nAs he spoke, he held out his fine, high-bred hand to his guest.\n\nSir Simon did not profess to be a very deep reader of human nature, but\nthe most accomplished Macchiavellist could not have divined and touched\nthe right chords in his listener\u2019s spirit with a surer hand than he\nhad just done. Mr. Plover laid his shrivelled fingers in the baronet\u2019s\nextended hand, and said with awkward bluntness:\n\n\u201cAs a proof of personal regard for you, I promise to hold my tongue in\nprivate life; but you can\u2019t expect me not to take steps for the recovery\nof the stone.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow so?\u201d Sir Simon started.\n\n\u201cIt is pretty certain to get into the diamond market before long, and,\nunless the police are put on the watch, it will slip out of the country\nmost likely, and for ever beyond my reach, and I would give double the\nmoney to get it back again. But I pledge myself not to mention the affair\nexcept to the officers.\u201d\n\nHe bowed another good-night to the company, and was gone. The rest\nquickly followed, and soon the noise of wheels crushing the wet gravel\ndied away, and Sir Simon Harness was left alone to meditate on the events\nof the evening and many other unpleasant things.\n\nTO BE CONTINUED.\n\n\nRECOLLECTIONS OF WORDSWORTH.[131]\n\nBY AUBREY DE VERE, ESQ.\n\n\nPART I.\n\nIt was about eight years before his death that I had the happiness of\nmaking acquaintance with Wordsworth. During the next four years I saw\na good deal of him, chiefly among his own mountains, and, besides many\ndelightful walks with him, I had the great honor of passing some days\nunder his roof. The strongest of my impressions respecting him was that\nmade by the manly simplicity and lofty rectitude which characterized\nhim. In one of his later sonnets he writes of himself thus: \u201cAs a _true_\nman who long had served the lyre\u201d; it was because he was a true man that\nhe was a true poet; and it was impossible to know him without being\nreminded of this. In any case he must have been recognized as a man of\noriginal and energetic genius; but it was his strong and truthful moral\nnature, his intellectual sincerity, the abiding conscientiousness of\nhis imagination, so to speak, which enabled that genius to do its great\nwork, and bequeath to the England of the future the most solid mass of\ndeep-hearted and authentic poetry which has been the gift to her of any\npoet since the Elizabethan age. There was in his nature a veracity\nwhich, had it not been combined with an idealizing imagination not\nless remarkable, would to many have appeared prosaic; yet, had he not\npossessed that characteristic, the products of his imagination would\nhave lacked reality. They might still have enunciated a deep and sound\nphilosophy; but they would have been divested of that human interest\nwhich belongs to them in a yet higher degree. All the little incidents of\nthe neighborhood were to him important.\n\nThe veracity and the ideality which are so signally combined in\nWordsworth\u2019s poetic descriptions of nature made themselves, at least, as\nmuch felt whenever nature was the theme of his discourse. In his intense\nreverence for nature he regarded all poetical delineations of her with\nan exacting severity; and if the descriptions were not true, and true\nin a twofold sense, the more skilfully executed they were the more was\nhis indignation roused by what he deemed a pretence and a deceit. An\nuntrue description of nature was to him a profaneness, a heavenly message\nsophisticated and falsely delivered. He expatiated much to me one day,\nas we walked among the hills above Grasmere, on the mode in which nature\nhad been described by one of the most justly popular of England\u2019s modern\npoets--one for whom he preserved a high and affectionate respect. \u201cHe\ntook pains,\u201d Wordsworth said; \u201che went out with his pencil and note-book,\nand jotted down whatever struck him most--a river rippling over the\nsands, a ruined tower on a rock above it, a promontory, and a mountain\nash waving its red berries. He went home, and wove the whole together\ninto a poetical description.\u201d After a pause Wordsworth resumed with\na flashing eye and impassioned voice: \u201cBut nature does not permit an\ninventory to be made of her charms! He should have left his pencil and\nnote-book at home; fixed his eye, as he walked, with a reverent attention\non all that surrounded him, and taken all into a heart that could\nunderstand and enjoy. Then, after several days had passed by, he should\nhave interrogated his memory as to the scene. He would have discovered\nthat while much of what he had admired was preserved to him, much was\nalso most wisely obliterated. That which remained--the picture surviving\nin his mind--would have presented the ideal and essential truth of the\nscene, and done so, in a large part, by discarding much which, though\nin itself striking, was not characteristic. In every scene many of the\nmost brilliant details are but accidental. A true eye for nature does not\nnote them, or at least does not dwell on them.\u201d On the same occasion he\nremarked: \u201cScott misquoted in one of his novels my lines on Yarrow. He\nmakes me write,\n\n    \u201c\u2018The swans on sweet St. Mary\u2019s lake\n    Float double, swans and shadow.\u2019\n\nbut I wrote,\n\n    \u201c\u2018The _swan_ on _still_ St. Mary\u2019s lake.\u2019\n\n\u201cNever could I have written \u2018swans\u2019 in the plural. The scene when I saw\nit, with its still and dim lake, under the dusky hills, was one of utter\nloneliness; there was _one_ swan, and one only, stemming the water,\nand the pathetic loneliness of the region gave importance to the one\ncompanion of that swan--its own white image in the water. It was for\nthat reason that I recorded the swan and the shadow. Had there been\nmany swans and many shadows, they would have implied nothing as regards\nthe character of the scene, and I should have said nothing about them.\u201d\nHe proceeded to remark that many who could descant with eloquence on\nnature cared little for her, and that many more who truly loved her had\nyet no eye to discern her--which he regarded as a sort of \u201cspiritual\ndiscernment.\u201d He continued: \u201cIndeed, I have hardly ever known any one\nbut myself who had a true eye for nature--one that thoroughly understood\nher meanings and her teachings--except\u201d (here he interrupted himself)\n\u201cone person. There was a young clergyman called Frederick Faber,[132]\nwho resided at Ambleside. He had not only as good an eye for nature\nas I have, but even a better one, and sometimes pointed out to me on\nthe mountains effects which, with all my great experience, I had never\ndetected.\u201d\n\nTruth, he used to say--that is, truth in its largest sense, as a thing at\nonce real and ideal, a truth including exact and accurate detail, and yet\neverywhere subordinating mere detail to the spirit of the whole,--this,\nhe affirmed, was the soul and essence not only of descriptive poetry, but\nof all poetry. He had often, he told me, intended to write an essay on\npoetry, setting forth this principle, and illustrating it by references\nto the chief representatives of poetry in its various departments. It\nwas this twofold truth which made Shakspere the greatest of all poets.\n\u201cIt was well for Shakspere,\u201d he remarked, \u201cthat he gave himself to the\ndrama. It was that which forced him to be sufficiently human. His poems\nwould otherwise, from the extraordinarily metaphysical character of his\ngenius, have been too recondite to be understood. His youthful poems, in\nspite of their unfortunate and unworthy subjects, and his sonnets also,\nreveal this tendency. Nothing can surpass the greatness of Shakspere\nwhere he is at his greatest; but it is wrong to speak of him as if even\nhe were perfect. He had serious defects, and not those only proceeding\nfrom carelessness. For instance, in his delineations of character he does\nnot assign as large a place to religious sentiment as enters into the\nconstitution of human nature under normal circumstances. If his dramas\nhad more religion in them, they would be truer representations of man, as\nwell as more elevated and of a more searching interest.\u201d Wordsworth used\nto warn young poets against writing poetry remote from human interest.\nDante he admitted to be an exception; but he considered that Shelley,\nand almost all others who had endeavored to outsoar the humanities, had\nsuffered deplorably from the attempt. I once heard him say: \u201cI have\noften been asked for advice by young poets. All the advice I can give\nmay be expressed in two counsels. First, let nature be your habitual and\npleasurable study--human nature and material nature; secondly, study\ncarefully those first-class poets whose fame is universal, not local, and\nlearn from them; learn from them especially how to observe and how to\ninterpret nature.\u201d\n\nThose who knew Wordsworth only from his poetry might have supposed that\nhe dwelt ever in a region too serene to admit of human agitations. This\nwas not the fact. There was in his being a region of tumult as well a\nhigher region of calm, though it was almost wholly in the latter that his\npoetry lived. It turned aside from mere _personal_ excitements; and for\nthat reason, doubtless, it developed more deeply those special ardors\nwhich belong at once to the higher imagination and to the moral being.\nThe passion which was suppressed elsewhere burned in his \u201cSonnets to\nLiberty,\u201d and added a deeper sadness to the \u201cYew-trees of Borrowdale.\u201d\nBut his heart, as well as his imagination, was ardent. When it spoke\nmost powerfully in his poetry, it spoke with a stern brevity unusual in\nthat poetry, as in the poem, \u201cThere is a change, and I am poor,\u201d and\nthe still more remarkable one, \u201cA slumber did my spirit seal\u201d--a poem\nimpassioned beyond the comprehension of those who fancy that Wordsworth\nlacks passion, merely because in him passion is neither declamatory nor,\nlatently, sensual. He was a man of strong affections--strong enough on\none sorrowful occasion to withdraw him for a time from poetry.[133]\nReferring once to two young children of his who had died about forty\nyears previously, he described the details of their illnesses with an\nexactness and an impetuosity of troubled excitement such as might have\nbeen expected if the bereavement had taken place but a few weeks before.\nThe lapse of time appeared to have left the sorrow submerged indeed, but\nstill in all its first freshness. Yet I afterwards heard that at the\ntime of the illness, at least in the case of one of the two children,\nit was impossible to rouse his attention to the danger. He chanced\nto be then under the immediate spell of one of those fits of poetic\ninspiration which descended on him like a cloud. Till the cloud had\ndrifted he could see nothing beyond. Under the level of the calm there\nwas, however, the precinct of the storm. It expressed itself rarely but\nvehemently, partaking sometimes of the character both of indignation\nand sorrow. All at once the trouble would pass away and his countenance\nbask in its habitual calm, like a cloudless summer sky. His indignation\nflamed out vehemently when he heard of a base action. \u201cI could kick such\na man across England with my naked foot,\u201d I heard him exclaim on such\nan occasion. The more impassioned part of his nature connected itself\nespecially with his political feelings. He regarded his own intellect\nas one which united some of the faculties which belong to the statesman\nwith those which belong to the poet; and public affairs interested\nhim not less deeply than poetry. It was as patriot, not poet, that he\nventured to claim fellowship with Dante.[134] He did not accept the term\n\u201creformer,\u201d because it implied an organic change in our institutions,\nand this he deemed both needless and dangerous; but he used to say that,\nwhile he was a decided conservative, he remembered that to preserve our\ninstitutions we must be ever improving them. He was, indeed, from first\nto last, pre-eminently a patriot--an impassioned as well as a thoughtful\none. Yet his political sympathies were not with his own country only,\nbut with the progress of humanity. Till disenchanted by the excesses\nand follies of the first French Revolution, his hopes and sympathies\nassociated themselves ardently with the new order of things created by\nit; and I have heard him say that he did not know how any generous-minded\n_young_ man, entering on life at the time of that great uprising, could\nhave escaped the illusion. To the end his sympathies were ever with the\ncottage hearth far more than with the palace. If he became a strong\nsupporter of what has been called \u201cthe hierarchy of society,\u201d it was\nchiefly because he believed the principle of \u201cequality\u201d to be fatal to\nthe well-being and the true dignity of the poor. Moreover, in siding\npolitically with the crown and the coronets, he considered himself to be\nsiding with the weaker party in our democratic days.\n\nThe absence of love-poetry in Wordsworth\u2019s works has often been remarked\nupon, and indeed brought as a charge against them. He once told me that\nif he had avoided that form of composition, it was by no means because\nthe theme did not interest him, but because, treated as it commonly\nhas been, it tends rather to disturb and lower the reader\u2019s moral and\nimaginative being than to elevate it. He feared to handle it amiss.\nHe seemed to think that the subject had been so long vulgarized that\nfew poets had a right to assume that they could treat it worthily,\nespecially as the theme, when treated unworthily, was such an easy\nand cheap way of winning applause. It has been observed also that the\nreligion of Wordsworth\u2019s poetry, at least of his earlier poetry, is\nnot as distinctly \u201crevealed religion\u201d as might have been expected from\nthis poet\u2019s well-known adherence to what he has called emphatically \u201cThe\nlord, and mighty paramount of truths.\u201d He once remarked to me himself\non this circumstance, and explained it by stating that when in youth\nhis imagination was shaping for itself the channel in which it was to\nflow, his religious convictions were less definite and less strong than\nthey had become on more mature thought; and that, when his poetic mind\nand manner had once been formed, he feared that he might, in attempting\nto modify them, have become constrained. He added that on such matters\nhe ever wrote with great diffidence, remembering that if there were\nmany subjects too low for song, there were some too high. Wordsworth\u2019s\ngeneral confidence in his own powers, which was strong, though far from\nexaggerated, rendered more striking and more touching his humility in\nall that concerned religion. It used to remind me of what I once heard\nMr. Rogers say, viz.: \u201cThere is a special character of _greatness_ about\nhumility; for it implies that a man can, in an unusual degree, estimate\nthe _greatness_ of what is above us.\u201d Fortunately, his diffidence did\nnot keep Wordsworth silent on sacred themes. His later poems include\nan unequivocal as well as beautiful confession of Christian faith; and\none of them, \u201cThe Primrose of the Rock,\u201d is as distinctly Wordsworthian\nin its inspiration as it is Christian in its doctrine. Wordsworth was\na \u201cHigh-Churchman,\u201d and also, in his prose mind, strongly anti-Roman\nCatholic, partly on political grounds; but that it was otherwise as\nregards his mind poetic is obvious from many passages in his Christian\npoetry, especially those which refer to the monastic system and the\nSchoolmen, and his sonnet on the Blessed Virgin, whom he addresses as\n\n    \u201cOur tainted nature\u2019s solitary boast.\u201d\n\nHe used to say that the idea of one who was both Virgin and Mother had\nsunk so deep into the heart of humanity that there it must ever remain.\n\nWordsworth\u2019s estimate of his contemporaries was not generally high. I\nremember his once saying to me: \u201cI have known many that might be called\nvery _clever_ men, and a good many of real and vigorous _abilities_, but\nfew of genius; and only one whom I should call \u2018wonderful.\u2019 That one was\nColeridge. At any hour of the day or night he would talk by the hour, if\nthere chanced to be _any_ sympathetic listener, and talk better than the\nbest page of his writings; for a pen half paralyzed his genius. A child\nwould sit quietly at his feet and wonder, till the torrent had passed by.\nThe only man like Coleridge whom I have known is Sir William Hamilton,\nAstronomer Royal of Dublin.\u201d I remember, however, that when I recited\nby his fireside Alfred Tennyson\u2019s two political poems, \u201cYou ask me why,\nthough ill at ease,\u201d and \u201cOf old sat Freedom on the heights,\u201d the old\nbard listened with a deepening attention, and, when I had ended, said\nafter a pause, \u201cI must acknowledge that those two poems are very solid\nand noble in thought. Their diction also seems singularly stately.\u201d He\nwas a great admirer of Philip van Artevelde. In the case of a certain\npoet since dead, and little popular, he said to me: \u201cI consider his\nsonnets to be certainly the best of modern times\u201d; adding, \u201cOf course\nI am not including my own in any comparison with those of others.\u201d He\nwas not sanguine as to the future of English poetry. He thought that\nthere was much to be supplied in other departments of our literature,\nand especially he desired a really great history of England; but he\nwas disposed to regard the roll of English poetry as made up, and as\nleaving place for little more except what was likely to be eccentric or\nimitational.\n\nIn his younger days Wordsworth had had to fight a great battle in poetry;\nfor both his subjects and his mode of treating them were antagonistic to\nthe maxims then current. It was fortunate for posterity, no doubt, that\nhis long \u201cmilitant estate\u201d was animated by some mingling of personal\nambition with his love of poetry. Speaking in an early sonnet of\n\n    \u201cThe poets, who on earth have made us heirs\n    Of truth, and pure delight, by heavenly lays,\u201d\n\nhe concludes:\n\n    \u201cOh! might my name be numbered among theirs,\n    Then gladly would I end my mortal days.\u201d\n\nHe died at eighty, and general fame did not come to him till about\nfifteen years before his death. This might perhaps have been fifteen\nyears too soon, if he had set any inordinate value on it. But it was\nnot so. Shelley tells us that \u201cFame is love disguised\u201d; and it was\nintellectual sympathy that Wordsworth had always valued far more than\nreputation. \u201cGive me thy love; I claim no other fee,\u201d had been his demand\non his reader. When fame had laid her tardy garland at his feet, he found\non it no fresher green than his \u201cRydalian laurels\u201d had always worn. Once\nhe said to me: \u201cIt is indeed a deep satisfaction to hope and believe\nthat my poetry will be, while it lasts, a help to the cause of virtue and\ntruth, especially among the young. As for myself, it seems now of little\nmoment how long I may be remembered. When a man pushes off in his little\nboat into the great seas of Infinity and Eternity, it surely signifies\nlittle how long he is kept in sight by watchers from the shore.\u201d\n\nSuch are my chief recollections of the great poet, whom I knew but in\nhis old age, but whose heart retained its youth till his daughter Dora\u2019s\ndeath. He seemed to me one who from boyhood had been faithful to a high\nvocation; one who had esteemed it his office to minister, in an age of\nconventional civilization, at nature\u2019s altar, and who had in his later\nlife explained and vindicated such lifelong ministration, even while he\nseemed to apologize for it, in the memorable confession,\n\n    \u201cBut who is innocent? By grace divine,\n    Not otherwise, O Nature! are we thine.\u201d[135]\n\nIt was to nature as first created, not to nature as corrupted by\n\u201cdisnatured\u201d passions, that his song had attributed such high and healing\npowers. In singing her praise he had chosen a theme loftier than most\nof his readers knew--loftier, as he perhaps eventually discovered,\nthan he had at first supposed it to be. Utterly without Shakspere\u2019s\ndramatic faculty, he was richer and wider in the humanities than any\npoet since Shakspere. Wholly unlike Milton in character and in opinions,\nhe abounds in passages to be paralleled only by Milton in solemn and\nspiritual sublimity, and not even by Milton in pathos. It was plain\nto those who knew Wordsworth that he had kept his great gift pure,\nand used it honestly and thoroughly for that purpose for which it had\nbeen bestowed. He had ever written with a conscientious reverence for\nthat gift; but he had also written spontaneously. He had composed with\ncare--not the exaggerated solicitude which is prompted by vanity, and\nwhich frets itself to unite incompatible excellences, but the diligence\nwhich shrinks from no toil while eradicating blemishes that confuse a\npoem\u2019s meaning and frustrate its purpose. He regarded poetry as an art;\nbut he also regarded art, not as the compeer of nature, much less her\nsuperior, but as her servant and interpreter. He wrote poetry likewise,\nno doubt, in a large measure, because self-utterance was an essential\nlaw of his nature. If he had a companion, he discoursed like one whose\nthoughts must needs run on in audible current; if he walked alone among\nhis mountains, he murmured old songs. He was like a pine-grove, vocal\nas well as visible. But to poetry he had dedicated himself as to the\nutterance of the highest truths brought within the range of his life\u2019s\nexperience; and if his poetry has been accused of egotism, the charge\nhas come from those who did not perceive that it was with a human, not\na mere personal, interest that he habitually watched the processes of\nhis own mind. He drew from the fountain that was nearest at hand what he\nhoped might be a refreshment to those far off. He once said, speaking of\na departed man of genius, who had lived an unhappy life and deplorably\nabused his powers, to the lasting calamity of his country: \u201cA great poet\nmust be a great man; and a great man must be a good man; and a good man\nought to be a happy man.\u201d To know Wordsworth was to feel sure that if he\nhad been a great poet, it was not merely because he had been endowed with\na great imagination, but because he had been a good man, a great man, and\na man whose poetry had, in an especial sense, been the expression of a\nhealthily happy moral being.\n\n_P.S._--Wordsworth was by no means without humor. When the Queen, on one\noccasion, gave a masked ball, some one said that a certain youthful poet,\nwho has since reached a deservedly high place both in the literary and\npolitical world, but who was then known chiefly as an accomplished and\namusing young man of society, was to attend it dressed in the character\nof the father of English poetry--grave old Chaucer. \u201cWhat!\u201d said\nWordsworth, \u201cM---- go as Chaucer! Then it only remains for me to go as\nM----!\u201d\n\n\nPART II.\n\nSONNET--RYDAL WITH WORDSWORTH.\n\nBY THE LATE SIR AUBREY DE VERE.\n\n    \u201cWhat we beheld scarce can I now recall\n    In one connected picture; images\n    Hurrying so swiftly their fresh witcheries\n    O\u2019er the mind\u2019s mirror, that the several\n    Seems lost, or blended in the mighty all.\n    Lone lakes; rills gushing through rock-rooted trees;\n    Peaked mountains shadowing vales of peacefulness;\n    Glens echoing to the flashing waterfall.\n    Then that sweet twilight isle! with friends delayed\n    Beside a ferny bank \u2019neath oaks and yews;\n    The moon between two mountain peaks embayed;\n    Heaven and the waters dyed with sunset hues:\n    And he, the poet of the age and land,\n    Discoursing as we wandered hand in hand.\u201d\n\nThe above-written sonnet is the record of a delightful day spent by\nmy father in 1833 with Wordsworth at Rydal, to which he went from the\nstill more beautiful shores of Ulswater, where he had been sojourning at\nHalsteads. He had been one of Wordsworth\u2019s warmest admirers when their\nnumber was small, and in 1842 he dedicated a volume of poems to him.[136]\nHe taught me when a boy of eighteen years old to admire the great bard.\nI had been very enthusiastically praising Lord Byron\u2019s poetry. My father\ncalmly replied: \u201cWordsworth is the great poet of modern times.\u201d Much\nsurprised, I asked: \u201cAnd what may his special merits be?\u201d The answer was,\n\u201cThey are very various; as, for instance, depth, largeness, elevation,\nand, what is rare in modern poetry, an _entire_ purity. In his noble\n\u2018Laodamia\u2019 they are chiefly majesty and pathos.\u201d A few weeks afterwards\nI chanced to take from the library shelves a volume of Wordsworth, and\nit opened on \u201cLaodamia.\u201d Some strong, calm hand seemed to have been laid\non my head, and bound me to the spot till I had come to the end. As I\nread, a new world, hitherto unimagined, opened itself out, stretching far\naway into serene infinitudes. The region was one to me unknown, but the\nharmony of the picture attested its reality. Above and around were indeed\n\n    \u201cAn ampler ether, a diviner air,\n    And fields invested with purpureal gleams\u201d;\n\nand when I reached the line,\n\n    \u201cCalm pleasures there abide--majestic pains,\u201d\n\nI felt that no tenants less stately could walk in so lordly a precinct.\nI had been translated into another planet of song--one with larger\nmovements and a longer year. A wider conception of poetry had become\nmine, and the Byronian enthusiasm fell from me like a bond that is\nbroken by being outgrown. The incident illustrates poetry in one of\nits many characters--that of the \u201cdeliverer.\u201d The ready sympathies\nand inexperienced imagination of youth make it surrender itself easily\ndespite its better aspirations, or in consequence of them, to a false\ngreatness; and the true greatness, once revealed, sets it free. As early\nas 1824 Walter Savage Landor, in his \u201cImaginary Conversation\u201d between\nSouthey and Porson, had pronounced Wordsworth\u2019s \u201cLaodamia\u201d to be \u201ca\ncomposition such as Sophocles might have exulted to own, and a part of\nwhich might have been heard with shouts of rapture in the regions he\ndescribes\u201d--the Elysian Fields.\n\nWordsworth frequently spoke of death, as if it were the taking of a\nnew degree in the University of Life. \u201cI should like,\u201d he remarked to\na young lady, \u201cto visit Italy again before I move to another planet.\u201d\nHe sometimes made a mistake in assuming that others were equally\nphilosophical. We were once breakfasting at the house of Mr. Rogers, when\nWordsworth, after gazing attentively round the room with a benignant and\ncomplacent expression, turned to our host, and, wishing to compliment\nhim, said: \u201cMr. Rogers, I never see this house, so perfect in its taste,\nso exquisite in all its arrangements, and decorated with such well-chosen\npictures, without fancying it the very house imaged to himself by the\nRoman poet when, in illustration of man\u2019s mortality, he says: \u2018Linquenda\nest domus.\u2019\u201d \u201cWhat is that you\u2019re saying?\u201d replied Mr. Rogers, whose\nyears between eighty and ninety, had not improved his hearing. \u201cI was\nremarking that your house,\u201d replied Wordsworth, \u201calways reminds me of\nthe ode (more properly called an elegy, though doubtless the lyrical\nmeasure not unnaturally causes it to be included among Horace\u2019s odes)\nin which the Roman poet writes: \u2018Linquenda est domus\u2019; that is, since,\nladies being present, a translation may be deemed desirable, _The house\nis_, or _has to be, left_; and again,\u2019et placens uxor\u2019--and the pleasing\nwife; though, as we must all regret, that part of the quotation is not\napplicable on the present occasion.\u201d The Town Bard, on whom \u201cno angle\nsmiled\u201d more than the end of St. James\u2019 Place, did not enter into the\nviews of the Bard of the Mountains. His answer was what children call\n\u201cmaking a great face,\u201d and the ejaculation, \u201cDon\u2019t talk Latin in the\nsociety of ladies.\u201d When I was going away, he remarked, \u201cWhat a stimulus\nthe mountain air has on the appetite! I made a sign to Edmund to hand him\nthe cutlets a second time. I was afraid he would stick his fork into that\nbeautiful woman who sat next him.\u201d Wordsworth never resented a jest at\nhis own expense. Once when we had knocked three times in vain at the door\nof a London house, I exclaimed, quoting his sonnet written on Westminster\nBridge,\n\n    \u201cDear God, the very houses seem asleep.\u201d\n\nHe laughed heartily, then smiled gravely, and lastly recounted the\noccasion and described the early morning on which that sonnet was\nwritten. He did not recite more than a part of it, to the accompaniment\nof distant cab and carriage; and I thought that the door was opened too\nsoon.\n\nWordsworth, despite his dislike to great cities, was attracted\noccasionally in his later years\n\n    \u201cTo the proud margin of the Thames\n    And Lambeth\u2019s venerable towers,\u201d\n\nwhere his society was courted by persons of the most different character.\nBut he complained bitterly of the great city. It was next to impossible,\nhe remarked, to tell the truth in it. \u201cYesterday I was at S---- House;\nthe Duchess of S----, showing me the pictures, observed: \u2018This is the\nportrait of my brother\u2019 (naming him), \u2018and it is considered very like.\u2019\nTo this I assented, partly perhaps in absence of mind, but partly, I\nthink, with an impression that her grace\u2019s brother was probably a person\nwhose face every one knew or was expected to know; so that, as I had\nnever met him, my answer was in fact a lie! It is too bad that, when more\nthan seventy years old, I should be drawn from the mountains to London\nin order to tell a lie!\u201d He made his complaint wherever he went, laying\nthe blame, however, not so much on himself or on the duchess as on the\ncorrupt city; and some of those who learned how the most truthful man\nin England had thus quickly been subverted by metropolitan snares came\nto the conclusion that within a few years more no virtue would be left\nextant in the land. He was likewise maltreated in lesser ways. \u201cThis\nmorning I was compelled by my engagements to eat three breakfasts--one\nwith an aged and excellent gentleman, who may justly be esteemed an\naccomplished man of letters, although I cannot honestly concede to him\nthe title of a poet; one at a fashionable party; and one with an old\nfriend whom no pressure would induce me to neglect, although for this,\nmy first breakfast to-day, I was obliged to name the early hour of seven\no\u2019clock, as he lives in a remote part of London.\u201d\n\nBut it was only among his own mountains that Wordsworth could be\nunderstood. He walked among them not so much to admire them as to\nconverse with them. They exchanged thoughts with him, in sunshine or\nflying shadow, giving him their own and accepting his. Day and night,\nat all hours, and in all weathers, he would face them. If it rained, he\nmight fling his plaid over him, but would take no admonition. He must\nhave his way. On such occasions, dutiful as he was in higher matters, he\nremained incurably wayward. In vain one reminded him that a letter needed\nan answer or that the storm would soon be over. It was very necessary\nfor him to do what he liked; and one of his dearest friends said to\nme, with a smile of the most affectionate humor: \u201cHe wrote his \u2018Ode to\nDuty,\u2019 and then he had done with that matter.\u201d This very innocent form of\nlawlessness, corresponding with the classic expression, \u201cIndulge genio,\u201d\nseemed to belong to his genius, not less than the sympathetic reverence\nwith which he looked up to the higher and universal laws. Sometimes there\nwas a battle between his reverence for nature and his reverence for other\nthings. The friend already alluded to was once remarking on his varying\nexpressions of countenance: \u201cThat rough old face is capable of high and\nreal beauty; I have seen in it an expression quite of heavenly peace and\ncontemplative delight, as the May breeze came over him from the woods\nwhile he was slowly walking out of church on a Sunday morning, and when\nhe had half emerged from the shadow.\u201d A flippant person present inquired:\n\u201cDid you ever chance, Miss F----, to observe that heavenly expression on\nhis countenance as he was walking into church on a fine May morning?\u201d A\nlaugh was the reply. The ways of nature harmonized with his feelings in\nage as well as in youth. He could understand no estrangement. Gathering a\nwreath of white thorn on one occasion, he murmured, as he slipped it into\nthe ribbon which bound the golden tresses of his youthful companion,\n\n    \u201cAnd what if I enwreathed my own?\n      \u2019Twere no offence to reason;\n    The sober hills thus deck their brows\n      To meet the wintry season.\u201d\n\n\nSIR THOMAS MORE.\n\n_A HISTORICAL ROMANCE._\n\nFROM THE FRENCH OF THE PRINCESSE DE CRAON.\n\nIII.\n\n\u201cAh! well, and so you are going to carry the French birds back!\u201d\nexclaimed the old keeper Jack, with a loud, coarse laugh, as he leaned\nagainst one of the century-old trees in Windsor forest. \u201cWell, well, so\nbe it, my friends; but give us a little drop to drink,\u201d he added in a\njocular but self-important tone. As he said these words, he familiarly\nslapped the shoulder of one of the falconers, who was engaged in\nfastening the chains again to the feet of the tiercelets, whilst his\ncomrades cut off the heads of the game taken, and threw them as a reward\nto the cruel birds, who devoured them with avidity.\n\n\u201cAfter a while,\u201d replied the falconer a little impatiently. \u201cWait till\nour work is done, father Jack; you are always in a hurry--to drink. We\nwill take our glass together now directly. See that troop of birds! They\nmust first be chained and put with the others.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, well!\u201d replied Jack, \u201cprovided we lose nothing by waiting. These\nare beautiful birds, if they do come from France.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, no, you shall lose nothing by waiting,\u201d cried the second falconer.\n\u201cCome here; I will let you taste a liquid that these birds have brought\nover under their wings, and we will see then if you have ever drunk\nanything equal to it since you drew on your boots in the service of his\nmajesty.\u201d\n\nAnd he poured out of a canteen that hung from his shoulder-belt a very\nacid gin, filling, until it foamed over, a large pewter cup, which he\nhanded to father Jack.\n\nIt was swallowed at one draught.\n\n\u201cOh! superb, superb!\u201d cried the old keeper, returning the cup and\nsmacking his lips. \u201cDuring the five-and-forty years past that I have had\nthe honor of keeping Windsor, I have drunk nothing better. Let\u2019s go! That\nstrengthens a man\u2019s courage and warms up his old blood! I believe the\ndeer will give us a hard drive to-day; I have seen the tracks of fourteen\nor fifteen at least.\u201d And saying this, he remounted his old wind-broken\nmare.\n\n\u201cWait, father Jack, wait for us! We will all go together,\u201d exclaimed the\n_gens de l\u2019equipage_; for Jack contributed much to their amusement. When\nthey had mounted their horses, they followed the keeper, getting off a\nhundred jokes on the old mare, to which he was much attached.\n\nThey very soon passed by two young lords who had halted near the verge of\nthe forest, and were engaged in conversation.\n\nOne of them held in leash four beautiful greyhounds, especial favorites\nof the king because of their great sagacity and swiftness in the chase.\nTheir keeper, however, was obliged to use the lash, in order to stop\ntheir clamorous baying.\n\n\u201cYou have seen her, then?\u201d he remarked to his companion.\n\n\u201cYes, I have seen her down yonder. She crossed the road with all of her\nladies,\u201d replied the latter, who belonged to Wolsey\u2019s household and wore\nhis livery. \u201cShe was dressed in a black velvet cap and green riding-habit\nand she is really charming!\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, my poor friend,\u201d replied the other, \u201cbut do you know I have\nserious fears that your cardinal will soon fall into disfavor? But a\nmoment ago, as they passed by here, I heard the Duke of Norfolk remark\nto a lady that the red cloak was decidedly out of style, and altogether\nit was at this time so completely used up that he did not think it could\never again be mended. The lady smiled maliciously, and said he was\nright--she believed the green mantle would eventually end by tearing the\nred to pieces! And pointing to the young Anne Boleyn, who was not far\noff, she made a sign that left no doubt on my mind it was that lady she\nmeant to designate as the destroyer.\u201d\n\n\u201cTruly,\u201d replied the young domestic,[137] \u201cwhat you tell me is anything\nbut encouraging. And so our dear duke must have _his_ finger in the pie!\nI shall be very sorry for all this if it happens, because my own clothes,\nare made of scarlet, you see; and when one has succeeded, in the course\nof time, in getting a suit well made up, he doesn\u2019t like the trouble of\nhaving to commence again and make it over.\u201d\n\nAs he said this a cloud of dust arose, and a troop of horsemen passed at\nfull gallop and with a terrible hue and cry.\n\n\u201cMy dogs! my dogs!\u201d cried the king in the midst of the crowd. \u201cLet\nloose my dogs! The deer makes for the ponds. Let them hasten to tell the\nladies, that they may be in at the death.\u201d\n\nHe disappeared like a flash of lightning, of which we obtain but a\nglimpse ere it is gone. The shrill notes of the hunter\u2019s horn resounded\nfrom afar, awaking countless echoes through the forest.\n\n\u201cLet us go,\u201d exclaimed the two young men simultaneously. \u201cWe will then\nget rid of these accursed hounds.\u201d\n\n\u201cTo the ponds! To the ponds!\u201d they cried. \u201cThe ladies, to the ponds! The\nladies, to the ponds!\u201d And they started on, laughing and shouting.\n\n\u201cWhat is that you are shouting down there?\u201d cried a huntsman from a\ndistance, whose horse had just made him roll in the dust.\n\n\u201cTo the ponds! My lord, to the ponds!\u201d they cried.\n\nThe retinue surrounding the Duke of Suffolk put whip to their horses and\nfollowed in a sweeping gallop. From every side of the hills surrounding\nthese ponds there appeared, at the same moment, troops of eager hunters,\npanting and covered with dust. The different roads traversing the forest\nin every direction converged and met on the banks of the ponds that slept\nin the basin thus formed.\n\nThe ladies had already assembled, and nothing could have been more\nentertaining than the rapid and eager movements of the remainder of the\nhunters as they came galloping up. The king arrived before any of the\nothers. He excelled in exercises of this kind, and took great delight\nin ending the chase in a brilliant manner by shooting the deer himself.\nOn this occasion he had decided that, contrary to the usual custom, it\nshould be taken alive; consequently, they hastened to spread in every\ndirection the nets and fillets.\n\nIn this case the skill of the hunters consisted in driving the game into\nthe snare.\n\nVery soon the deer made his appearance, followed by a multitude of\nhounds, who pursued him so furiously, and crowded so closely one against\nthe other, that, to use a familiar expression of the hunters, they could\nhave been covered with a table-cloth.\n\nAt sight of the nets the beautiful animal paused for an instant. He\nshook his horns menacingly, and stamped the ground with his feet; then\nsuddenly, feeling already the scorching breath of the infuriated pack\nof hounds about to seize him, he made a desperate effort, and, leaping\nat a single bound the entire height of the fillets, threw himself into\nthe lake. Instantly a loud and deafening shout arose, while the furious\nhounds, arrested in their course by the nets, uttered the most frightful\nhowlings on seeing their prey escape.\n\n\u201cMy cross-bow!\u201d cried the king. \u201cQuick! my cross-bow!\u201d and he drew it so\nskilfully that at the first shot he pierced the flank of the poor animal,\nwho immediately ceased to swim.\n\nSatisfied with his brilliant success, the king, after having heard the\nplaudits of the ladies and received the congratulations of the hunters,\nproceeded to the pavilion, constructed of evergreens and foliage, as\nelegant as it was spacious, which he had had erected in the midst of the\nforest, in order to dine under cover.\n\nThe Duchess of Suffolk did the honors of the festival, taking the place\nof Queen Catherine, who, under the pretext of bad health, declined\nappearing at these hunting parties, the noisy sports having become\ninsupportable to her.\n\nMeanwhile the courtiers were greatly excited by observing a roll of paper\nthe extremity of which projected from the right pocket of the king\u2019s\nhunting-jacket; on one of the leaves, a corner of which was turned down,\ntwo words were visible--the name of \u201cWolsey\u201d and that of \u201ctraitor.\u201d Each\none sought to approach the king or pass behind him in order to assure\nhimself of the astonishing fact, of which they had the temerity to\nwhisper mysteriously together.\n\nBut in spite of all their efforts, they were unable to discover anything\nmore; the day and the festival ended with numerous conjectures--the\nfears and hopes excited in the minds of that court where for so long the\nlearned favorite had ruled with as much authority as the king himself.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAt daybreak on the morning succeeding the festival the gates were thrown\nopen, and a carriage, bearing the royal arms and colors, drove from the\ngreat courtyard of Windsor Palace.\n\nWhile the postilion trotted leisurely along, looking around from time\nto time as he wonderingly reflected why the horse on his right grew\nconstantly lean in spite of the generous addition he had made to his\nrations, the two occupants of the carriage engaged in the following\nconversation:\n\n\u201cIt is cold this morning,\u201d said one of them, wrapping his cloak more\nclosely about him.\n\n\u201cYes; and how this fog and the heavy dew covering the earth remind one of\nthe bivouac!\u201d\n\n\u201cIt does indeed,\u201d responded Norfolk to his companion; \u201cbut such\nsouvenirs are always agreeable, and carry us back to the happiest days\nof life--years spent amid the tumult and vicissitudes of the camp.\nEighteen! that impulsive, impetuous age, when presumptuous courage rushes\nheadlong into danger, comprehending nothing of death; when reckless\nintrepidity permits not a moment\u2019s reflection or hesitation, transported\nby the ardent desire of acquiring glory; the intoxicating happiness of a\nfirst success--such are the thrilling emotions, the brilliant illusions\nof youth, which we shall experience no more!\u201d And the old warrior\nsorrowfully bowed his head.\n\n\u201cAh! well, others replace them,\u201d replied Suffolk.\n\n\u201cYes, to be displaced and disappear in their turn,\u201d answered the duke,\nbrushing back the white locks the wind had blown over his forehead, on\nwhich appeared a deep scar.\n\n\u201cWell, my lord,\u201d exclaimed the Duke of Suffolk, \u201cdo not spoil, by\nyour philosophic reflections, all the pleasure we ought to enjoy in\nthe thought that, thanks to the influence and good management of your\ncharming niece, we are now going to inform Monseigneur Wolsey that the\ntime has at last arrived for him to abdicate his portion of the crown.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, perhaps so,\u201d replied the duke. \u201cAnd yet I don\u2019t know. Yesterday,\neven, I detested this man, and desired most ardently his ruin;\nto-day--no, no; an enemy vanquished and prostrate at my feet inspires\nonly compassion. Now I almost regret the injury my niece has done him and\nthe blow she has struck.\u201d\n\n\u201cCome, come, my lord, do you not know that an excess of generosity\nbecomes a fault? We have nothing to regret,\u201d continued Suffolk, with an\nexulting laugh. \u201cI only hope he may not be acquitted (and thus be able to\nsettle the scores with us afterwards); that Parliament will show him no\nmercy. Death alone can effectually remove him. The little memorandum you\nhave there contains enough to hang all the chancellors in the world.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is very certain,\u201d replied the Duke of Norfolk, abstractedly turning\nthe leaves of the book he held in his hand (the same that had excited\nsuch eager curiosity among the courtiers)--\u201cit is certain this book\ncontains grave accusations. Nevertheless, I do not think it has entirely\naccomplished the end proposed by the author.\u201d\n\n\u201cIn truth, no,\u201d answered Suffolk; \u201cfor Wiltshire counted very certainly\non replacing Wolsey. He will be astounded when he learns of the choice of\nthe king.\u201d\n\n\u201cAlthough Wiltshire is a relative of mine,\u201d replied the duke, \u201cI am\ncompelled to acknowledge that it would have been impossible for the king\nto have made a better selection or avoided a worse one. Wiltshire is both\nignorant and ambitious, while Thomas More has no superior in learning\nand merit. I knew him when quite a child, living with the distinguished\nCardinal Morton, who was particularly attached to him. I remember very\noften at table Morton speaking of him to us, and always saying: \u2018This\nyoung boy will make an extraordinary man. You will see it. I shall not be\nliving, but you will then recall the prediction of an old man.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cExtraordinary!\u201d replied Suffolk in his habitual tone of raillery;\n\u201cmost extraordinary! We are promised, then, a chancellor of a peculiar\nspecies! I suppose he will not be the least astonished at receiving so\nhigh and singular a favor. But, the devil! he will need to be a wonderful\nman. If he sustains himself on the throne ministerial, he will find a\nsuperior degree of wisdom necessary. Between the king, the queen, the\ncouncil, Wiltshire, the Parliament, the clergy, and the people, I would\nnot risk my little finger, brother-in-law of his majesty although I have\nthe honor to be.\u201d\n\nAnd he began laughing as he looked at Norfolk, although, out of deference\nto him, he had not included in the list of difficulties the most\nformidable of all, and the one that carried all others in its train--his\nniece, Mlle. Anne.\n\n\u201cIn the sense you use the word,\u201d the duke answered coldly, \u201cI believe,\non the contrary, he is by no means an astute man. The intrigues of court\nwill be altogether foreign to his character; but otherwise, in science\nand learning, he has no equal. He is in possession of all that a man\nis capable of acquiring in that direction, and no man has made a more\nprofound study of the common law and the statutes of the kingdom. Morton\nplaced him at Oxford, then at the Chancellors\u2019 College at Lincoln, and he\nachieved the most brilliant success.\u201d\n\n\u201cAdmirable!\u201d exclaimed Suffolk, laughing.\n\n\u201cSince that time,\u201d pursued the Duke of Norfolk, \u201chis reputation has\ncontinued to increase. When he lectured in S. Lawrence\u2019s Church, the\ncelebrated Dr. Grocyn and all of our London _savants_ crowded eagerly to\nhear him.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell! well! I knew nothing of these most agreeable particulars,\u201d said\nSuffolk; \u201cI only knew that it was he who induced Parliament to refuse\nthe subsidy demanded for the Queen of Scots. If he continues to repeat\nsuch exploits as that, I venture to predict he will not be chancellor\nvery long.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! as to that,\u201d replied the duke, \u201che is a man who will never\ncompromise his conscience. Yes, yes, I recall distinctly the enraged\nexpression of the present king\u2019s father when Mr. Tyler came to inform him\nthat the House of Commons had rejected his demand, and a beardless youth\nhad been the cause of it. I have not forgotten, either, that Henry VII.,\nof happy memory, well knew how to avenge himself by having an enormous\nfine imposed on Sir Thomas\u2019 father.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell,\u201d replied Suffolk, \u201cbut it was not always expedient for the House\nof Commons to raise money in that way.\u201d\n\nThe conversation was continued in this manner, as the hours glided by,\nuntil at length the glittering spires of the London churches appeared in\nthe distance, and very soon the carriage had entered the narrow, gloomy\nstreets of that great city.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nJust at this time the soul of Wolsey was replenished with an\ninexpressible quietude and contentment. \u201cAt last,\u201d he said to himself,\n\u201cmy enemies have all been confounded. I can no longer entertain a doubt\nrespecting my power, after the most gracious manner in which the king\nhas treated me at Grafton. I trust the influence of Anne Boleyn has\ndiminished in the same proportion that mine has increased. Now she wants\nSir Thomas Cheney recalled; but I shall not consent to that. Campeggio\ngoes loaded with honorable presents. The influence of the mistress\nwill soon cease, and that ambitious fool Wiltshire will lose the fruit\nof his intrigues.\u2026\u201d As the Cardinal of York consoled himself with these\nagreeable reflections, the arrival of the Venetian ambassador was\nannounced.\n\n\u201cAh! so he presents himself at last,\u201d Wolsey exclaimed. \u201cHe has been a\nlong time demanding an audience!\u201d And he ordered him to be introduced.\n\nWolsey received him in the most gracious manner. After the usual\ncompliments were exchanged, he proposed showing him the honors of the\npalace. He had spent his life in embellishing and adorning it with\nwonderful treasures of industry and art, of which he was the enlightened\nand generous protector, bestowing on them from his own purse the most\nliberal encouragement.\n\nNumerous galleries, in which an exquisite taste had evidently directed\neven the most trivial ornamentation, were filled with paintings, statues,\nand precious antique vases. Superb Flanders tapestries gleamed on all\nsides, covered the panels, were disposed around the windows, and fell in\nheavy drapery before the openings of the doors to conceal the entrance.\nThese precious cloths, then of inestimable value, were only found in the\npalaces of kings. They usually represented some historical or poetical\nsubject; and sometimes landscapes and the rarest flowers were wrought and\ntinted with reflections of gold. Finally, Wolsey took occasion to point\nout, among all these treasures, the presents he had received at different\ntimes from the various princes of Europe who had sought to secure his\ninfluence.\n\nCharmed with the order, taste, and beauty that reigned throughout the\npalace, the Italian admired everything, surprised to find in this foreign\nclime a condition of luxury that recalled the memory, always pleasing,\nyet sometimes sad, of his own country.\n\n\u201cAlas!\u201d he exclaimed at length, \u201cwe also were rich and happy, and reposed\nin peace and security in our palaces, before this war in which we have\nbeen so unfortunate as to rely on the King of France for assistance. He\nhas abandoned us; and now, compelled to pay an enormous tribute, the\nrepublic finds itself humiliated in the dust beneath the sceptre of the\nhaughty emperor!\u201d\n\n\u201cSuch is the right of the conqueror,\u201d replied Wolsey. \u201cYou are fortunate,\ninasmuch as he is forced to use that right with moderation.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt seems a heavy burden to us, this moderation!\u201d replied the ambassador.\n\u201cHe not only exacts immense sums of money, but compels us to surrender\nterritory we have conquered with our blood. Florence is placed under the\ndominion of the Medici, and all of our Italian princes are reduced to a\ncondition of entire dependence.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhich, of course, they will shake off at the first opportunity,\u201d\ninterrupted Wolsey. \u201cCharles V. is too shrewd not to foresee that. Be\nassured he will endeavor to secure your good-will, because your support\nis indispensable to enable him to resist the formidable power of the\nSultan Soliman, and the invasions of the barbarians subject to his\nauthority.\u201d\n\n\u201cIn that we have placed our last hope. If our services can be made\navailable, then from vanquished enemies we may become united allies.\nAlready the emperor foresees it; for he overwhelms Andrew Doria and the\nrepublic of Genoa with favors. He seems to have forgotten the injuries he\nsuffered from Sforza; he received him most affably at court, and promised\nhim the Princess of Denmark, his niece, in marriage.\u201d\n\n\u201cI am informed,\u201d said Wolsey, \u201cthat he is deeply afflicted by the death\nof the Prince of Orange.\u201d\n\n\u201cVery much,\u201d replied the ambassador. \u201cThe prince was a valiant captain.\nHe leaves no children; his titles and landed property will descend to the\nchildren of his sister R\u00e9n\u00e9e, the Countess of Nassau.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd they are all German princes who have thrown themselves headlong\ninto the Lutheran heresy. They will endeavor to cast off the yoke of the\nemperor, and become altogether independent.\u201d\n\n\u201cThey have no other intention,\u201d replied the ambassador; \u201cand by\nseparating from the Church of Rome they hope more surely to effect their\npurpose. However, the decree laid before the diet against the religious\ninnovations has passed by a large majority.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d replied Wolsey; \u201cbut you see the Elector of Saxony, the Marquis\nof Brandenburg, the Landgrave of Hesse, the Dukes of Luneburg, and the\nPrince d\u2019Anhalt are all leagued against the church, with the deputies of\nfourteen imperial cities, and are designated by no other name than that\nof Protestant.\u201d\n\n\u201cI am aware of that,\u201d replied the ambassador. \u201cIt will greatly increase\nthe difficulties in carrying out the emperor\u2019s secret project,\u201d he\ncontinued after a moment\u2019s silence. \u201cPerhaps, however, he may succeed in\nmaking the crown hereditary in his family.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is what we shall have to prevent!\u201d cried Wolsey vehemently, who,\nat the words of the ambassador, felt all his old hatred toward Charles V.\nrevive. \u201cWe will never suffer it, neither will France. No, no; I am very\ncertain France will never permit it.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh!\u201d replied the ambassador, shaking his head with a doubtful air,\neither because he was not convinced, but more probably because he was\nwell pleased to arouse against the conqueror of Venice the animosity of\nEngland (still, as he considered, entirely governed by the will of the\nminister who stood before him).\n\n\u201cI assure you of it most positively,\u201d answered Wolsey; \u201cand I wish you\nto bear it in mind.\u201d And he regarded him with an expression of perfect\nconfidence and authority.\n\n\u201cI hope it may be so,\u201d said the ambassador in an abstracted manner. \u201cWe\ncertainly desire nothing more.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! if he had only you to oppose him,\u201d answered Wolsey, resuming his\nusual haughtiness, \u201cI should doubt of success. See where you stand,\u201d he\ncontinued, with the secret satisfaction of national pride. \u201cInvaded on\nall sides, Italy can oppose but a feeble barrier to the power of two\nsuch bold and daring pirates. Is it not a shame, then, to see these\nobscure and cruel robbers, sons of a Lesbian potter--two barbarians, in\nfact--reigning sovereigns of the kingdom of Algiers, which they have\nseized, and from whence they fearlessly go forth to destroy the Christian\nfleets on every sea? When would you be able to conquer these ocean\npirates--you, who have but a gibbet for your couch and a halter for your\nvestment? Justice would be kept a long time waiting!\u201d\n\nThe Italian reddened and bit his lip. He vainly sought words in which\nto reply, and was relieved of his embarrassment when the door opened and\nadmitted the Dukes of Norfolk and Suffolk.\n\nThey entered without the usual ceremonies or salutations, and Wolsey,\nsurprised at seeing Suffolk, whom he had not met since the altercation\nat Blackfriars, regarded them with astonishment. He arose, however, and\nadvanced toward them. Suffolk, with a disdainful gesture, referred him to\nthe Duke of Norfolk.\n\nAstonished at the coldness of the one, the brusque impoliteness of the\nother, and embarrassed by the presence of the ambassador, the cardinal\nstood motionless, undecided what to think or say.\n\n\u201cMy lords,\u201d he at length exclaimed, \u201cwhat do you desire of me?\u201d\n\n\u201cWe want you to deliver up the seal of state,\u201d replied Norfolk, without\nchanging countenance.\n\n\u201cWhat do you say, my lord?\u201d cried Wolsey, stupefied with astonishment.\n\n\u201cThe king has ordered it,\u201d continued the duke with the same imperturbable\nmanner.\n\n\u201cThe king! Can it be possible?\u201d said Wolsey, dismayed, and in a voice\nalmost inaudible. \u201cThe seal of state! And what have I done? What? Can\nthis be true? No, my lord, no,\u201d he suddenly exclaimed with an expression\nof indescribable terror; \u201cit cannot be true! You have mistaken the king;\nI do not deserve any such treatment. I pray you let me see him; let me\nspeak to him for a moment--one single moment. Alas! alas!\u201d\n\nAnd he glanced at the ambassador, who, astounded himself at first, and\nfeeling himself out of place in the presence of this mighty downfall,\nhad involuntarily withdrawn towards the door.\n\n\u201cIt is no longer a question to be submitted to the king,\u201d cried Suffolk\nin a threatening and defiant manner; \u201cit is only necessary now to obey\nhim, and he orders you instantly to deliver up the seal.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe order is imperative,\u201d added Norfolk in a cold and serious manner. \u201cI\nregret being charged with a commission which to you, my lord, must be so\npainful.\u201d\n\nHe said no more. But Suffolk, base and jealous in his nature, was not\nashamed to add to the humiliation of the unfortunate cardinal.\n\n\u201cCome, my good friend,\u201d he said in an ironical voice, \u201cwhy do you beg so\nimploringly? One would suppose we had demanded the apple of your eye. You\nhave been putting the seal so long now on our purses and tongues, you\nought not to be surprised nor annoyed that we feel like using it awhile\nourselves.\u201d\n\nThis cowardly insult exasperated Wolsey, but his courage was roused with\nhis indignation.\n\n\u201cMy Lord Suffolk,\u201d he answered with dignity, \u201cI am sorry for you and\nfor the prompt manner in which you seem to forget in their misfortune\nthose who in days of prosperity were always found ready to come to your\nassistance. I hope you may never experience how painful it is to endure a\nsimilar cruel ingratitude.\u201d\n\nHe immediately withdrew, and returned with the richly-adorned casket\ncontaining the great seal of state.\n\nHolding it in his trembling hand, he avoided Suffolk, and, advancing\nrapidly toward the Duke of Norfolk, handed it to him.\n\n\u201cMy lord,\u201d he said, \u201chere are the seals of the kingdom of England.\nLet the king\u2019s will be done. Since I received them from his hand,\nfifteen years ago, I am conscious of having done nothing to merit his\ndispleasure. I trust he will one day deign to render me full justice, for\nI have never proved myself unworthy of his favor.\u201d\n\nAs he uttered the last words, he was unable to restrain the tears which\ninvoluntarily arose to his eyes.\n\nAlthough the cardinal was by no means a favorite with the Duke of\nNorfolk, he was moved with compassion, and sadly reflected that he had\nstill more painful intelligence to communicate.\n\nHe glanced at his companion, but, fearing the bitter and poignant irony\nin which Suffolk never failed to indulge, he hastened to prevent it in\norder to spare Wolsey.\n\n\u201cMy lord cardinal,\u201d he said, \u201cyou ought to reflect that the king is too\njust and impartial to withdraw the favor he has so long bestowed on you\nwithout having weighed well the reasons and necessities requiring such\na course. Nevertheless, his goodness has not abandoned you; he permits\nyou to select such counsel as you may desire to defend you against the\naccusations presented against you to Parliament.\u201d\n\n\u201cTo Parliament!\u201d murmured Wolsey, terror-stricken; for the duke\u2019s last\nwords suddenly disclosed the depth of the abyss into which he had fallen.\n\u201cTo Parliament!\u201d he repeated. The shock he had experienced was so\nviolent that his pride of character, the sense of personal dignity, the\npresence of his enemies, were all forgotten in a moment, and he abandoned\nhimself to despair. Unable longer to sustain himself, he sank on his\nknees. \u201cI am lost!\u201d he cried, weeping and extending his hands toward\nhis persecutors. \u201cHave pity on me, my Lord Norfolk! I give up all to\nthe king! Let him do with me what he will! Since he says I am culpable,\nalthough I have never had the intention, yet I will acknowledge that I\nam. But, alas! of what do they accuse me?\u201d\n\n\u201cOf having violated the statutes of pr\u00e6munire,\u201d replied Norfolk.\n\n\u201cAnd betraying your country,\u201d continued Suffolk, \u201cby carrying on a secret\ncorrespondence with the King of France. You well remember that it was you\nwho had me recalled at the moment when, having become master of Artois\nand Picardy, I had the Parisians trembling within their walls? Will you\ndare deny that you were the cause of it, and that it was the _pri\u00e8re\nd\u2019argent_ of Mme. Louise[138] induced you to give the order for me to\nretire? The king has been already long enough your dupe, and our duty was\nto enlighten him. As to the rest, my lord cardinal, you understand the\nproceedings; your advocate ought to be here, and you should immediately\nconfer with him with regard to the other charges herein contained.\u201d\n\nAs he said this, he threw on the cardinal\u2019s table the bill of\npresentment, which contained no less than forty-four chief accusations.\n\nThey then took possession of all the papers they could find, carrying\naway the seal of state, and left Wolsey in a condition deserving pity.\n\nAs they retired, they proposed sending in the advocate, who was waiting\nin an adjoining apartment conversing with Cromwell.\n\n\u201cHa! ha! you are here, then, Sir Cromwell,\u201d said the Duke of Suffolk,\nlaughing. \u201cGo in, go in there at once,\u201d he cried, pointing to the door\nof Wolsey\u2019s cabinet. \u201cThe cardinal needs you; I fear he will be hard to\nconsole.\u201d\n\nCromwell watched with great anxiety the course of events, and, not\nknowing to which side to turn, determined at least to secure for\nhimself the appearance and merit of fidelity to his benefactor. Without\nreflecting on the consequences, he hastily replied that he would not\nleave Wolsey, would never abandon him, but follow him to the end.\n\n\u201cYou will follow him to the end, eh?\u201d replied Suffolk. \u201cWhen you know his\nintended destination, I doubt very much if you will then ask to follow\nhim.\u201d\n\nAs he said this, he made a gesture giving Cromwell to understand that his\nmaster, besides losing place and power, was also in danger of losing his\nhead.\n\n\u201cHigh treason, my dear sir, high treason!\u201d cried Suffolk. \u201cDo you hear\nme?\u201d\n\n\u201cHigh treason?\u201d repeated Cromwell slowly. \u201cAh! my lord duke, how could he\nbe guilty?\u201d\n\nHe hastened to rejoin Wolsey, whom he found bathed in tears and\nendeavoring to decipher the act of presentment.\n\n\u201cAh! Cromwell,\u201d exclaimed the unhappy cardinal on seeing him, \u201cmy dear\nfriend, you have not then forsaken me! But, alas! I am lost. Read here\nfor yourself--read it aloud to me; for my sight is failing.\u201d\n\nCromwell seized the paper and commenced reading the accusation. On\nhearing that it was based principally on the violation of the statutes of\npr\u00e6munire,[139] Wolsey was unable to control his indignation.\n\n\u201cHow,\u201d he cried, \u201ccan the king be induced to sanction such unparalleled\ninjustice? It is true that in receiving from the pope the title of\nlegate, and exercising throughout the kingdom the authority conferred\nby that title, I have been brought in opposition to the precautionary\nstatutes of King Richard; but still I have not violated them, since the\nking himself has sanctioned that power and recognized it by appearing\nin his own person before the court. Is he not more to blame, then, who\ndesired and ordered it, than I, who have simply been made a party to it?\nI can prove this,\u201d he cried--\u201cyes, I can prove it; for I have still the\nletters-patent, signed by his own hand, and which he furnished me to that\neffect. Cromwell, look in my secretary; you will find them there.\u201d\n\nCromwell opened the secretary, but found nothing.\n\n\u201cThere is not a single paper here,\u201d he said. \u201cWhere could you have placed\nthem?\u201d\n\n\u201cIndeed!\u201d exclaimed the cardinal. \u201cThen they have all been carried away!\nAll!\u201d he repeated. \u201cI have no longer any means of defence; I am lost!\nThey are all arrayed against me; they have resolved upon my death. O\nHenry! O my king! is it thus you forget in one moment the services I\nhave rendered you? Cromwell,\u201d he continued in a low voice and gloomy,\nabstracted manner--\u201cCromwell, I am lost!\u201d\n\nThe same evening another messenger came to inform the unhappy cardinal\nthe king wished to occupy, during the session of Parliament he was about\nto convene, his palace of York (the object of his care and pride), and\nthat in leaving it he could retire to, and have at his disposal, a house\nabout eight leagues from London, entirely abandoned, and belonging to the\nbishopric of Winchester.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe night, already far advanced, found Sir Thomas More still seated in\nhis cabinet, conversing with the Bishop of Rochester, who had arrived at\nChelsea very late that morning.\n\nA light was burning on a long table encumbered with books and papers;\nseveral high-backed chairs, covered with black morocco, cast their\nshadows on the walls; a capacious rug of white sheep-skin was spread\nbefore the hearth, where the remains of a fire still burned in the grate.\n\nSuch was the simplicity of the home of Sir Thomas More.\n\n\u201cAnd why, my dear friend,\u201d asked the Bishop of Rochester, \u201cwill you\nconsent to take upon your shoulders so terrible a responsibility? Once\nbecome chancellor, have you fully considered that you will be surrounded\nby enemies, who will watch your every movement and pursue you even to\nyour death? Have you reflected well that you acknowledge no other laws\nthan those of your own conscience, and feel no remorse unless for not\nhaving spoken your views with sufficient candor? Is it thus you hope to\nresist--thus you hope to escape the snares that will continually surround\nyou?\u201d\n\n\u201cI fear nothing,\u201d replied More; \u201cfor I believe in God! And you\nyourself--would you not blame such weakness? In refusing the king I\nrefuse the queen. Would not Catherine then declare that the trusted\nservant, even he who had been called her friend, had sacrificed her\ninterests to his love of ease? He had declared his life should be devoted\nto her cause, and now had abandoned and deprived her of the only hope of\nrelief Providence seemed to have left her! No, Fisher, friendship has\nrights too sacred for me not to respect them.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen,\u201d cried the bishop, \u201cif you respect the rights of friendship,\nlisten to my appeal! I ask you to decline a dignity that will prove\ndestructive to you. In the name of all that you hold most dear, in the\nname of all that is good and beautiful in nature, in the entire universe,\nI conjure you to refuse this fatal honor! It is more than probable the\nvery seal they wish now to place in your hands will be very soon affixed\nto your death-warrant! Believe me, my friend, all will unite against you.\nA deep conviction has taken possession of my soul, and I see, I feel, the\nwrath of this prince, as violent as he is cruel, ready to fall upon your\ndevoted head. You will be crushed in this struggle, too unequal to admit\nfor an instant the hope of escape.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! well,\u201d replied More laughingly, \u201cinstead, then, of simply inscribing\non my tombstone \u2018Here lies Thomas More,\u2019 there will appear in pompous\nstyle the inscription, \u2018Here lies the Lord High Chancellor of England.\u2019\nAssuredly, I think that would sound much better, and I shall take care to\nbequeath my first quarter\u2019s salary to defray the expense of so elegant an\ninscription.\u201d\n\n\u201cMore!\u201d cried the Bishop of Rochester with impatience, \u201cI cannot suffer\nyou to jest on a subject of such grave importance. Do you, then, desire\nto die? Would you ruin yourself? Trust to my experience. I know the heart\nof Henry thoroughly; your attempt to save the queen will be vain, and\nyou will inevitably be involved in her ruin. I conjure you, then, accept\nnot this office. I will myself carry your refusal to the king.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, no!\u201d exclaimed More. \u201cI have decided--decided irrevocably.\u201d\n\n\u201cIrrevocably?\u201d repeated Rochester, whom the thought reduced almost to\ndespair. \u201cMore, I see it. You have become ambitious; the vainglory of\nthe world, the fatal infatuation of its honors, have taken possession\neven of the soul of Thomas More! Your heart no longer responds to mine;\nyour ear remains deaf to all my solicitations! Ah! well, since the desire\nof being honored among men, and to have them grovel at your feet, has\nmade even you despise my counsel and advice, then listen, listen well,\nand God grant that I may be able to destroy in your heart the poison\nthat pride has poured into it! You are willing to sacrifice to your\nvanity all the happiness, all the quiet and peace, of your future; know,\nthen, what recompense will be meted out to you. Yesterday Wolsey was in\na manner driven from his palace, and descended the Thames in a common\nboat, Cromwell alone accompanying him; for all have deserted him except\nhis enemies, who, in order to enjoy his calamities, crowded the river in\nboats and followed after him. They hoped to see him arrested and carried\nto the Tower, the report having been circulated that he would be taken\nthere. Wolsey--he whom you have so often seen make his appearance in\nParliament, surrounded by an almost royal pomp and splendor--is now a\nfugitive, alone, abandoned, without defence, of the clamorous insults\nand bitter scorn of a populace always eager to feast their eyes on\nthe ruins of fallen greatness. The air around him resounded with their\nmaledictions. \u2018Here is the man who fattened on the blood of the poor,\u2019\nthey cried. \u2018The taxes will be reduced now,\u2019 exclaimed others, \u2018since\nhe will have no farther use for palaces and gardens\u2019; and all, in their\nignorance, abused him as the cause of the wrongs and oppressions which\nit was probably not in his power to have averted. At length, overwhelmed\nwith insults and outrages, he was landed at Pultney, and, in order to\nescape the mob, was hurriedly conducted to his house at Asher, where he\nhas been banished. Such is the reward you will receive in the service of\nan avaricious prince and a blind infatuated multitude!\u201d\n\nHe paused, overcome by anxiety and excitement.\n\n\u201cMy dear Fisher,\u201d responded More, deeply moved, \u201cour hearts and thoughts\nare always in unison; you have only represented to me a second time the\npicture I had already painted myself.\u201d\n\n\u201cIndeed!\u201d cried Rochester; \u201cand do you still hesitate?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat!\u201d replied More, resolutely, \u201cand does it require so much hesitation\nto sacrifice one\u2019s self? I would not wish to live dishonored; and I\nshould consider myself guilty if I forgot my duty toward my sovereign and\nthe honor of England!\u201d\n\n\u201cSo you are resolved! Ah! well, let your sacrifice be accomplished,\u201d said\nthe saintly bishop; \u201cbut then may God, whose goodness is infinite, hear\nmy vows and grant my prayer: may the same dangers unite us; side by side\nwith you may my last sigh be breathed out with yours; and if the life of\nthe aged man is not extinguished before that of the man in his prime,\nthen may the stroke of death cut us down at the same moment!\u201d\n\n\u201cMy dear friend,\u201d cried More, \u201cthe many years that have passed over your\nhead and blanched your locks have not yet ripened your judgment, since\nyou can believe it possible that the king\u2019s anger, although it may one\nday fall on me, could ever be permitted to overtake you, the counsellor\nof his youth, whom he has so often called his father! No, I can conceive\nof no such fearful possibility; the wise, the virtuous Bishop of\nRochester can never be involved in the misfortune that would crush Thomas\nMore.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh!\u201d replied Fisher, \u201cbut I shall understand how to call down on my head\nthe vengeance with which he may hesitate to strike me. Believe me, More,\na man scarcely reaches the prime of life before he feels himself, as it\nwere, daily beginning to fail. Just as in the autumn days the sun\u2019s light\nrapidly diminishes, so the passing years despoil his body of physical\nstrength and beauty; but it has no effect upon his soul. The heart--no,\nthe heart never grows old! It loves, it suffers, as in the early morning\nof life; and when at last it has reached the age when wisdom and\nexperience have destroyed the illusions of the passions, friendship,\nstrengthened by so many blessed memories, reigns there alone and entire,\nlike a magnificent flower that has been sheltered and preserved from the\ndestroying worm.\n\n\u201cHaving almost arrived at the end of his career, he often takes a survey\nof the road he has passed over. He loves to recall his joys and his\nsorrows, and to weep again for the friends he has lost. I know that\npresumptuous youth imagines that the prudence he refuses to obey is the\nonly good that remains after the labors of life have been terminated by\ntime.\n\n\u201cYour feelings are not in unison with those of an old man. It is because\nyou do not understand them. He lives in memory, and you in hope. You\npursue a phantom, a chimera, the nothingness of which he has already\nexperienced; you accuse him, he complains of you, and often you do not\ndeign to regard the last bitter tear that is drawn from him at the sight\nof the tomb into which he must soon descend.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh!\u201d exclaimed More, \u201cyou whom I venerate as a father and love as a\nfriend--can you doubt for one moment the truth of a heart entirely\ndevoted to you? Confirmed by your example, guided and sustained by\nyour counsels, what have I to fear? Banish from your mind these sad\npresentiments. Why should this dread of the future, that perhaps after\nall is only chimerical, destroy the extreme happiness I enjoy in seeing\nyou?\u201d\n\nFor a long time they continued to converse, until the light of early\nmorning at length succeeded the uncertain glimmer of the candle, now\nflickering in its socket.\n\n\u201cMy friend, I must leave you,\u201d said Rochester. \u201cThe day already dawns.\nGod grant the sun may not this morning arise on the beginning of your\nmisfortunes!\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! no,\u201d replied More, \u201cthis is my _f\u00eate_ to-day. S. Thomas will pray\nfor and protect us.\u201d\n\nThe good bishop then descended to the courtyard and mounted his mule; but\nMore, unwilling to give him up, walked on by his side as far as the road\nfollowed the course of the river. When they reached the cross-road where\nthe bishop turned off, More shook his hand and bade him farewell.\n\nA great wooden cross stood near the roadside, on which was suspended a\nwreath of withered leaves; and More, seating himself on one of the stone\nsteps upon which the cross was elevated, followed the good bishop with\nhis eyes until he had disappeared in the distance.\n\nHe then rested his head sadly on his hands, and recalled to mind all this\nvenerable friend had said to him.\n\n\u201cHe is right!\u201d he mentally exclaimed. \u201cHow clear-sighted his friendship\nrenders him! Into what a sea of agitation, malignity, and hatred I shall\nbe plunged! And all for what? In order that I may be lord chancellor\nof the kingdom through which this road passes. Behold, then, beside\nthe highway,\u201d he added, looking around him, \u201cmy lord the great high\nchancellor, shivering in the cold morning air just as any other man would\ndo who had gone out at this hour without putting on his cloak!\u2026 Yes, I\ncan understand how social distinctions might cause us to scorn other\nmen, if they exempted us from the inconveniences of life. We might then\nperhaps believe that we had different natures. But let us change our\ngarments, and we fall at once, and are immediately confounded with the\ncommon herd.\u201d\n\nWhile making these sad reflections upon the follies of human nature, More\narose and returned to the house, where his wife and children and his aged\nfather--simple and peaceable old man, happy in the favor of the king and\nthe virtues of his son--were all wrapped in profound slumber.\n\nIn a spacious apartment, of which the dark and worm-eaten ceiling,\nragged tapestry, and dilapidated windows presented the appearance of a\ndesolate and abandoned edifice, a fragment of broken furniture still\nremained, upon which was placed a small piece of bread. Numberless crumbs\nstrewed the dusty floor and were eagerly devoured by a little mouse, but\nrecently the only inhabitant of the place. To-day, however, he had the\ncompany of a man whose extraordinary mind had conceived vast projects and\nexecuted great and useful enterprises--the Archbishop of York, Cardinal\nWolsey. Seated upon the edge of a wooden stool which he had placed in the\nembrasure of a window, he held his hands crossed one upon the other, and\nbitterly reflected upon his unhappy destiny. Regrets, of which he felt\nall the impotency, pressed upon his agitated soul. It seemed to him that\nhe still heard the cries and menaces of the furious populace that exulted\nin his distress, and to which perhaps, alas! he would again be subjected.\nAt one time filled with courage and resolution, at another humble and\ncast down, the anxieties of his mind seemed wholly without measure. His\neyes, wearied with straying listlessly over the plain which extended\nbefore him, beheld only a single laborer ploughing the field. \u201cMan is\nsmall,\u201d said he, \u201cin presence of immensity; the point which he forms\nin space is imperceptible. Entire generations have passed away, have\ngathered the fruits of the earth, and now sleep in their native dust.\nMy name has been unknown to them. Millions of creatures suffer, where\nI exist free from pain. Coming up from the lowest ranks of society, I\nhave endeavored to elevate myself above them. And what has my existence\nsignified to them? Has not each one considered himself the common centre\naround which all the others must revolve?\u201d\n\nHere Wolsey, impelled by extreme hunger, approached the little worm-eaten\ntable, and took up the morsel of dry bread left from his repast the\nevening before.\n\nJust as he was raising it to his mouth a man entered, dressed in the most\nscrupulous manner, and enveloped in an ample cloak of the finest material.\n\nWolsey was startled, and gazed at him in astonishment.\n\n\u201cWhat! Arundel,\u201d he exclaimed at last, \u201cwhat could have brought you to\nthis place?\u201d\n\n\u201cYourself,\u201d replied Arundel, in a frank, abrupt manner. \u201cYou have lost\neverything, and have never informed me by a word! Do you think, then, I\nhave forgotten all you have done for me?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe favors I have conferred on you were so slight,\u201d replied Wolsey,\n\u201cthat it would have been natural you should have no longer remembered\nthem, especially since many who owe their wealth, and perhaps their\nlives, to me have so completely forgotten it.\u201d\n\n\u201cI have never learned how to flatter nor to wear velvet gloves,\u201d replied\nArundel; \u201cbut I am still more ignorant of the art of forgetting past\nfavors. No, it has never been my custom to act thus; and you have\noffended me more than you imagine by proving you believed me capable of\nsuch baseness.\u201d\n\nAs he said this, Arundel took from his bosom an immense purse of red\nsatin, filled with gold, and laid it on the dilapidated table beside a\npackage of clothing which he had thoughtfully added to his gift.\n\n\u201cThere are no acknowledgments to be made,\u201d he remarked; \u201cit is essential\nfirst of all that you be made comfortable. You can return this when it\nsuits your convenience. Now let us say no more about it.\u201d\n\n\u201cAlas!\u201d cried Wolsey, \u201care you not aware, then, that I may never be able\nto return it? They will divide my ecclesiastical benefices among them.\nThe Duke of Norfolk and the Earl of Wiltshire have already been put in\npossession of the revenue from my bishopric of Winchester. This is the\nonly food I have had since I came here,\u201d he added, showing him the bread\nhe still held in his hand.\n\n\u201cIndeed! It is not very delicate,\u201d replied Arundel; \u201cbut it is your own\nfault. When one has friends, he should not neglect them, and that is just\nwhat you have done.\u201d\n\n\u201cMisfortune often renders us unjust,\u201d answered the cardinal, deeply\nmoved by the generous frankness and brusque proceedings of Arundel, whom\nhe had always, until now, regarded as being haughty and ungrateful,\nbecause he had never observed him among his crowd of fawning courtiers.\n\u201cI must confess that I could not endure the thought of being repulsed\nby those for whom I have done everything. I do not believe that among\nthe immense number of those who daily wearied me with protestations of\ntheir ostentatious regard there is to-day one who has condescended to\nthink of me in my misfortunes. You only have thought to succor me in my\ndistress--you, who, without my being aware of it, have doubtless been all\nthe while the most sincere among them all.\u201d\n\n\u201cI cannot believe,\u201d replied Arundel, without appearing to notice the\nacknowledgments with which Wolsey continued to overwhelm him, \u201cthat they\nwould all thus have abandoned you had they known the extreme severity\nwith which you have been treated; it would be too foul a blot upon the\nname of humanity. Notwithstanding they laugh at our misfortunes, I think\nit appears worse to us than it really is. No, be assured you will find\nsome faithful friends who will defend you. For instance, Sir Thomas More,\nyour successor, whose fortune you have made, cannot fail to use his\ninfluence in your favor.\u201d\n\n\u201cMore owes me nothing,\u201d replied the cardinal. \u201cI have not made his\nfortune; when I proposed him to the king as Treasurer of the Exchequer,\nhe had for a long time been acquainted with his rare merits. Knowing that\nthe appointment would prove both useful and agreeable to the king, I\nrecommended him to make it; but really it was more for the king\u2019s benefit\nthan More\u2019s. Besides, I am aware that More is one of the most zealous\npartisans of Catherine. Thus, you see, there exists no reason why he\nshould feel inclined to assist me. I am only surprised that a man of his\nexalted integrity should accept a position where he will necessarily be\ncompelled to act in opposition to his convictions.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is with the eager desire of ultimately being able to convert all\nthe world and to correct all consciences,\u201d replied Arundel with a smile\nof derision; for he never lost an occasion of ridiculing the importance\nwhich many attach to political intrigues, and, as they say, to the\npublic good, in whose management they pretend to take a hand, in order\nto win admiration at any cost for their talents. \u201cAnd verily, he will\nfind it difficult to sustain his position, unless he becomes the very\nhumble servant of my Lady Anne, regent of the kingdom; for nothing is\ndone but what she ordains, and her uncle, whom she has appointed chief\nof the council, executes the orders which the king claims the honor\nof communicating to him. Oh!\u201d continued Arundel in the same ironical\ntone, and without perceiving the painful effect his words produced on\nthe unhappy cardinal, \u201ctruly it is a very great advantage, and above\nall highly honorable for England, to see her king put in tutelage to\nthe caprices of a woman as weak and vain as she is arrogant. If he was\nabsolutely determined to go into leading-strings, why did he not beseech\nthe good Queen Catherine to take charge of him? She, at least, would\nhave been careful to hold the reins equally on both sides, so that the\nswaddling could have been made to walk straight.\u201d\n\n\u201cA swaddling,\u201d repeated Wolsey, \u201c\u2026 who devoured his nurse!\u201d\n\n\u201cHold, my dear lord,\u201d continued Arundel; \u201cit cannot be denied that\nyou have made a great mistake in encouraging the king in his divorce\nproject--yes, a great mistake, which they now begin to discover. But I do\nwrong, perhaps, to reproach you, since you are the first to be punished\nfor your manner of seeing things. But listen to me; as for myself, if, in\norder to avoid dying of starvation, or being compelled to subsist on just\nsuch bread as you have there, I had been obliged to accept the place of\nlord chancellor, on the day when I found myself relieved of so burdensome\nand exacting an office I should have cried aloud: \u2018Thank heaven that I am\nagain seated by my own fireside, where in peace and quiet I can get up\nat my leisure and contemplate passing events.\u2019 For myself, these are my\nprinciples: to have nothing to do is the first essential to happiness;\nnothing to lose, the second; nothing to disturb or annoy, the third;\nand upon these rest all the others. Such is my system--the best of all\nsystems, the only.\u2026\u201d\n\nArundel would have still continued explaining the numerous theories he\nhad originated for securing happiness for an indefinite length of time,\nperhaps, but he suddenly perceived that Wolsey no longer heard him, but,\nwith his head sunk on his breast, seemed absorbed in thought.\n\n\u201cWell, my lord,\u201d said Arundel, \u201cyou are not listening to me, it seems?\nReally, it is not worth while to explain to you the true method of being\nhappy.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! my dear Arundel,\u201d replied Wolsey, aroused by the exclamation of his\nvisitor, \u201chow could you expect me to think of profiting by your lessons,\nor to make an application of your theories of happiness, when at this\nvery moment, perhaps, I have been condemned to death by Parliament?\u201d\n\n\u201cThere is no proof of that,\u201d replied Arundel. \u201cSufficient unto the day\nis the evil--gloomy apprehensions profit us nothing; they do not delay\nthe progress of events; on the contrary, they send them on us in advance,\nand only serve to aggravate the consequences. Moreover, I must not forget\nto suggest that if it would be more agreeable for you to be with your\nfriends, there are many who will be happy to receive you, and offer you\na mansion as commodious, although less sumptuously furnished, than your\npalace of York or that of Hampton Court, the latter of which I have never\nliked since you added the gallery.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat is that gallery to me now? I surrender it up to you,\u201d said the\ncardinal.\n\nThe endless arguments of Arundel began to weary him exceedingly. In spite\nof the extreme gratitude he felt for his sincere and generous offers,\nWolsey could not divest himself of the conviction that Arundel belonged\nto that class who, while in other respects full of good impulses and\nlaudable intentions, are so entirely wanting in tact and delicacy, and\ncontend so urgently for their own opinions, that the consolations they\nwould force you to adopt, far from alleviating your sufferings, only\naugment them and render their sympathy irksome and oppressive. This\nfeeling was experienced by Wolsey, uncertain as he was what fate was\nreserved for him, trembling even for his life, while Arundel endeavored\nto paint for him a minute picture of the happiness and tranquillity\nenjoyed by a man living in peace and quiet, with nothing to disturb him\nin the enjoyment of his possessions.\n\n\u201cAlas!\u201d he exclaimed at length impatiently, \u201cwhy has not kind Providence\nblessed me with a nature like yours? I should be less unhappy, nor every\ninstant see yawning before me the terrible depths of the precipice on\nwhich I now stand. I could catch, at least, at the branches of absurdity,\nuntil the moment when I should be dashed to pieces! But no, I cannot;\nI am too well acquainted with men and things to expect the slightest\nassistance. They are always ready to strike those who are falling,\nbut never attempt to raise them up. Yesterday, only yesterday, the\ncommissioners of Parliament demanded of me the letters-patent I had\nreceived from the king in order to exercise my authority as legate,\nalthough every one knew that, as he had given them to me, it was his\nright alone to take them away again. Ah! well, they have persisted in\ntheir demand, and have refused to believe me on oath! No, I will indulge\nin no more illusions; my enemies have sworn my death, and they will\nobtain it! And the king, the king my master, after fifteen years of the\nmost faithful service, he delivers me up, helpless and defenceless, to\nall the cruelties their hatred may inspire; and yet you, Arundel, think\nthat I should still indulge in hope?\u201d\n\n\u201cBut all this will be arranged, I tell you,\u201d replied Arundel with an\nimperturbable coolness. \u201cYou should not trouble yourself in advance,\nbecause, if the worst _should_ happen, it will change nothing; and if it\ndoes _not_, your present suffering will have been needless.\u201d\n\nAs Arundel finished this wise reasoning, Cromwell appeared.\n\nHe came from London, where he had been, he said, to defend Wolsey before\nthe Parliament.\n\nOn seeing him enter the cardinal was seized with an uncontrollable alarm,\nthinking his fate had been decided.\n\n\u201cCromwell!\u201d he cried, and could say no more.\n\n\u201cAh!\u201d replied Cromwell, \u201cyou should not thus give way to your\napprehensions, although.\u2026\u201d He paused on seeing the cardinal grow deadly\npale. \u201cYou need have no uneasiness, because the king has sent Norris to\nbid me assure you he would take you under his protection.\u201d\n\n\u201cI have been condemned, then!\u201d cried the unhappy Wolsey. \u201cSpeak,\nCromwell, speak; conceal nothing from me. I am not a child,\u201d he added\nwith firmness.\n\n\u201cYou have been condemned by the Star Chamber, but the king says he will\nhave the bill rejected in the House of Commons,\u201d replied Cromwell.\n\n\u201cHe will not do it!\u201d cried Wolsey, the tears coursing rapidly down his\ncheeks. \u201cHe will sacrifice me, Cromwell, I know it; he has no longer any\nuse for me, and my past services have left no impression on his mind. But\nhow far has their rage carried them? To what have they condemned me?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou have been placed beyond the protection of the king, and all your\nproperty confiscated.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe king\u2019s protection is already recovered,\u201d gently interrupted Arundel,\nwho had listened until this time in silence. \u201cAs for the confiscation,\nthat will be more difficult, inasmuch as they are generally more ready\nto take than to give. However, my dear cardinal, you should despair of\nnothing; then let us try and console you. They cannot confiscate me, who\nhave never had anything to do with the gentlemen of the council. I have a\ngood house, an excellent cook; you will come home with me, and, my word\nfor it, you shall want for nothing.\u201d\n\n\u201cArundel,\u201d interrupted the cardinal, \u201cI am deeply grateful for your kind\noffer; but believe me, they will not leave me the choice of profiting by\nit.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy not? why not?\u201d exclaimed Arundel. \u201cThe devil! Why, these gentlemen\nof the council are not wild beasts! A little avaricious, a little\nambitious, a little envious, and slightly selfish, but they are at least\nas accommodating as the devil!\u201d\n\n\u201cNo!\u201d replied Wolsey.\n\n\u201cI assure you, before receiving the king\u2019s message,\u201d said Cromwell, \u201cI\nwas in despair, for they spoke of having you arrested and immediately\nurging the accusation of high treason; but since the king has declared\nyou under his protection, I do not believe that all is entirely lost.\nNorris has repeated to me twenty times: \u2018Say positively to the cardinal\nthat the king advises him not to be troubled, and to remember that he can\ngive him, any moment he pleases, far more than they can take away.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cI hope I may be mistaken, dear Cromwell,\u201d replied the cardinal with\na sombre air; \u201cbut I fear a momentary compassion only has excited the\nking to say what you tell me, and it will not be long before that wicked\nnight-bird[140] will again have possession of his ear. She will not\nfail to use her influence in defaming me and blackening anew all my\nactions, until the king will cease to oppose the wicked designs they have\nconceived against me.\u201d\n\nSaying this, he buried his face in his hands and sank into a state of\ndespondency impossible to describe.\n\nCromwell made no reply, and Arundel silently took his leave, inwardly\ncongratulating himself, as he returned home, upon the tranquil and happy\nlife he knew so well how to lead, and censuring those who would not\nimitate his example; without once reflecting that few were in a position\nso agreeable or independent as his, and consequently were not able to\nenjoy themselves equally nor after his own deliberate fashion.\n\nTO BE CONTINUED.\n\n\nSINE LABE CONCEPTA\n\n    Predestined second Eve. For this conceiv\u2019d\n      Immaculate--not lower than the first.\n      Chosen beginner in the loss reversed,\n    And mediatress in the gain achieved,\n    When, the new angel, as the old, believed,\n      Thy hearkening should bless whom Eve\u2019s had curst.\n      And therefore we, whose bondage thou hast burst,\n    Grateful for our inheritance retrieved,\n    Must deem this jewel in thy diadem\n      The brightest--hailing thee alone \u201call fair,\u201d\n        Nor ever soil\u2019d with the original stain:\n    Alone, save Him whose heart-blood bought the gem\n      With peerless grace preventive none might share--\n        Redemption\u2019s perfect end, all else tho\u2019 vain.\n\n\nVILLAGE LIFE IN NEW HAMPSHIRE.\n\n\u201cI think I shall start for New Hampshire to-morrow,\u201d I said. \u201cDo you know\nanything about L----, in Cheshire County?\u201d\n\nJones, who had been meditatively examining the coloring of a\nrichly-tinted meerschaum, sat up erect at this question, with a sudden\naccess of vigor.\n\n\u201cL----?\u201d he said. \u201cBy George! there\u2019s where Agnes Cortland lives now in\nthe summer.\u201d\n\nIt was the middle week of July. Aspirations for one whiff of the breeze\namong the hills had become irresistible. We were sitting together, Jones\nand I, in my room up-town after luncheon. Jones was a young New York\nartist in his first season after his return from Italy the previous\nautumn. He, too, was about to start on a sketching tour through Vermont,\nin which State his people lived. He was late leaving town, but money\nwas not easy with him--a handsome young fellow of that golden age\nbetween twenty-three and twenty-four, when one is apt to think he needs\nonly a very short-handled lever to move the world. He was of medium\nheight, but squarely and powerfully built; with a face good-natured,\nbut very resolute, in expression. A stranger would not be likely to\ntake a liberty with him. I had a strong notion that Jones would make a\nbetter soldier than artist, if there were any question of blows being\nstruck for the country, which happily there is not. But hitherto I had\nshrewdly kept that opinion to myself. Considerably older than he was,\nand engaged in another occupation, circumstances had thrown us a good\ndeal together. Intimacy had brought confidence, and confidence, at\nhis age, meant--nothing more nor less than it always does under such\ncircumstances--the unbosoming of his love affairs. How few there are\nwho have not found themselves in the same position, either as actors or\nsympathetic chorus, or in time as both! What countless dramas of passion\nare continually being put upon the private stage before this limited\naudience!\n\nNow, it is not the purpose of this paper to pursue the history of\nJones\u2019 captivity at the hands of the tender goddess through all the\ninfinitesimal and transcendental chapters a first romance runs into. More\nplacid emotions and observations, befitting the serenity of approaching\nmiddle age, are in store for the reader. And in fact the history of\nJones\u2019 passion is still incomplete. But so much of it may be given as\nfell within the purview of our New Hampshire observations.\n\nJones was poor--prosaic fact, which robs life of so many compensations as\nwe grow old. But at twenty-three we spurn the mastery of the glittering\ndross--that is, if Congress gives us any to spurn! Let us say rather\nof the flimsy paper. At that age of our flowing life we coin money at\nour own mint; or, more truly, draw limitless drafts on the Bank of\nthe Future. Happy the man who meets them when they fall due! Jones,\nat least, had no doubts as to his future solvency. But his plans were\nvague--very!\n\nAgnes Cortland was the daughter of a railroad director--or two or\nthree directors rolled into one--and had the world, or at least the\nNew York world, to choose from. Poor Jones! his story might almost be\npredicted from the start. Yet this inheritor of the (latent) genius\nof any half-dozen masters, ancient or modern, you choose to name,\nbelieved, perhaps with some reason, that this daughter of Dives liked\nhim; and as for himself, he vowed with hyperbole that he adored her.\nThey had frequently met--their families then being neighbors in the\ncountry--before he went to Italy, where he had spent two years studying\nand wandering about. No avowal of affection had been made between them,\nbut he had gone away with the consciousness many little signs and tokens\ngive that he was not disliked. Since his return a year ago some meetings\nhad taken place--at rarer intervals--in society. At an evening party\nsome months before she had given him, he said, a slight but unmistakable\nopportunity of declaring himself, if he had wished to do so.\n\n\u201cBut I did not take it,\u201d said Jones, who, spite of his being in love, was\nas manly a young fellow as one could meet. \u201cShe knows I am poor; and I\ndon\u2019t want to be thought a fortune-hunter.\u201d\n\nI laughed at this quixotic declaration.\n\n\u201cMy dear fellow,\u201d I said, \u201cyou fly at high game. But I should not let\nthe _auri sacra fames_ interfere, one way or the other, with my tender\nemotions. If I did so at all, Plutus would have his due weight in the\nscale, believe me!\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat would you do?\u201d said Jones. This was in one of those \u201ctobacco\nparliaments\u201d in early spring--if so they might be called, where one,\nonly, smoked, and the other looked on with sympathy; for I had abandoned\nthe \u201cweed\u201d some years before--hardly of such profundity, nor yet so\nsilent, as those Mr. Carlyle speaks of. Jones had recurred to his usual\ntopic of hopes and perplexities.\n\n\u201cDo?\u201d I answered, looking at him retrospectively, as it were, as if\ncontemplating my own departed youth, as he sat there in his favorite\nattitude after dinner, gracefully balancing one leg over the arm of\nmy chintz-covered easy-chair, while I was stretched out on the sofa.\n\u201cAh! that is an easy question to propound, but not so easy to answer.\nAt your age I should not think you would need much prompting. But if\nyou ask me, I would say, leave it alone! Love is a luxury for the rich\nor the evenly-mated poor. But you are not likely to take that advice.\nA good deal would depend on the reinforcements she might bring to the\nstruggle. A woman is not always a passive instrument in those affairs,\nbut sometimes has a will of her own. I have never seen your fair one,\nand know nothing about her. But if she be a girl of some strength of\ncharacter, and her love do not prove a mere school-girl\u2019s fancy, she\nmight possibly gain her father\u2019s consent. But it is not a promising\nadventure, at the best; and I would not recommend you to embark your\nhopes in it. Keep clear of serious entanglements until you see your way\nbefore you. Above all, avoid anything like a clandestine engagement. It\nwill not add to your happiness or hers. I don\u2019t suppose you will think\nthis a very encouraging opinion. But there may be circumstances in your\nfavor I know nothing of. Marry her, if you can, and can get the father\u2019s\nconsent; and go into \u201crailroading\u201d with him in his office. You will make\nmore money at that than you are ever likely to do sticking little dabs of\ncolor on a piece of canvas.\u201d\n\nI saw Jones wince at this mercenary view of his art. But he bore it\nlike a man, and continued silent. The suggestion of such a change of\nvocation did not appear to surprise him, though it was plain no active\nintention of throwing up his art had yet entered his mind. The fact is,\nJones is one of those young men--not inconsiderable in numbers in the\nprofession--who \u201chave a studio,\u201d but are not likely ever to send many\nmaster-pieces out of it. Developing some precocious talent for drawing\nwhen they are boys, and seizing with boyish eagerness upon the suggestion\nof being \u201can artist,\u201d they are offered by fond but undiscerning parents\nupon the altar of art. But they never advance beyond a mechanical\ndexterity in putting conventional scenes upon canvas. They haven\u2019t\na spark of that genius that is often observed where other pursuits\nhave prevented a devotion to the profession. Eventually they abandon\naltogether the study or practice of their art, or sink into drudges for\nthe picture or chromo dealers, or grind out a living as drawing-masters,\nor--Heaven knows how. I will not say that Jones was altogether deficient\nin talent, but the talent that makes an agreeable accomplishment for\nthe rich amateur is a different thing from that which will pay the\npiper or win eminence in the art. Jones painted his pictures for the\nautumn and spring exhibitions, and had one or two on view in one of\nthe up-town windows. But at Du Vernet\u2019s big sale I know that a clever\nlittle bit of coloring on which he had spent some time was knocked down\nto a chromo-dealer for sixteen dollars! How was he going to live on such\nprices? And as for marrying Agnes Cortland--it was simply preposterous\nto think of it. Nor is this redundancy of young native artists on whom\nneither genius nor fashion smiles confined to New York alone. In Boston,\nwhich is the only other city boasting of a native school of art, the same\nlow prices prevail. It is disheartening; but a more disheartening thing\nstill is that those prices often represented the actual value of the\npicture.\n\nJones was imperfectly educated, though his continental travel had made\nhim a fair linguist. He certainly drew very little inspiration from the\nantique, for he knew next to nothing about it; nor had he much of that\nsympathy with the undercurrent of life, and its relations with nature,\nwhich gives significance to common things. He had a fondness for pleasure\nwhich, of course, did not contribute to his success. Yet he was one of\nthose young fellows whom it is impossible to meet without liking. He was\nfrank, honorable, and spirited, and had a robust shrewdness about him in\ndealing with men and things that made him a pleasant companion. That he\nwould eventually choose a more active kind of life--and probably succeed\nin it--I was half-convinced, and my advice about \u201crailroading,\u201d though\nspoken partly in jest, was inwardly meant in good faith.\n\nOn this particular July evening on which our paper opens Jones followed\nup the announcement of my proposed trip to L---- by expressing a wish\nthat he were going there too, so that he might come to a definite\nunderstanding with Agnes Cortland; and the wish was soon followed by the\ndetermination to act on it.\n\n\u201cHow long do you intend to stay there?\u201d he asked.\n\n\u201cTill the first week in September,\u201d I said.\n\n\u201cThen I will come back that way, and join you for a few days about the\nfirst of September. The Cortlands don\u2019t leave there till October. We can\ncome back to New York together.\u201d\n\nIt would have been ungracious on my part to have objected to this\nproposal, though I had a good many doubts about its wisdom. So it\nhappened that my little excursion to L----, which I had innocently\ndesigned to be a season of simple lotus-eating such as Mr. Tennyson\nascribes to his Olympian deities, \u201creclined upon the hills together,\ncareless of mankind,\u201d was complicated by a subordinate interest in a\ncomedy from real life which had that quiet village for a stage.\n\nThe next day I started, taking Boston _en route_. That staid, quiet,\ncleanly city seems always to be, compared with New York, like a good\nschool-boy by the side of a big, blustering brother fonder of a street\nrow than his books. Then to Fitchburg, where I stopped over night, as\nsome stage travelling was to be done from our \u201cjumping-off\u201d place, and\nriding over the country roads in the morning was more promising than on\na dark and cloudy night. In the morning the Fitchburg Railroad again,\nand one of its branches to L----. The unwonted coolness of the morning\nbreeze, as the train entered the New Hampshire hills, already began to\nrefresh mind and body alike. The pines and hemlocks extending back into\ndeep, dim recesses carpeted with moss and ferns; the cattle moving slowly\nover the pastures in the distance; the pastures themselves stretching\nup the sides of the highest hills, still of the freshest green, without\na hint of the yellow undertone that I watched gradually overspread them\nas the summer ripened into autumn; a lake in the foreground, silent,\nunvisited, its clear waters unpolluted by the dregs of commerce or the\ndrainage of a vast metropolis; even the caw! caw! of the ravens flying\noff from the tops of the pine stumps, send a novel and delicious feeling\nof freedom through the breast of the city traveller who has put care and\nwork behind him for a season. Nor is this feeling altogether evanescent.\nEven now, as winter approaches and the north winds from the same hills\ncome sweeping down over the great city, sending us chattering and\nfreezing to our cosey firesides, the glory of the July foliage moves our\nmemory like a far-off dream of youth. Yet, after all, it may be doubted\nwhether the charm of country scenes is not due in great part to their\nnovelty and the feeling that we are not bound to them longer than we\nplease. Of all that has been written in praise of country life, how much\nis the work of the city resident; how little, comparatively speaking,\nsprings from the country itself! There drudgery too often takes the\nplace of sentiment. It is the Epicurean poet, Horace, satiated with the\nnoise of the Forum and the gossip of the baths, who sings sweetest of\nrural contentment, of the \u201clowing herds,\u201d the \u201cmellow fruits of autumn,\u201d\nand the \u201cbrooks murmuring over stony beds.\u201d But when he gives play to\nhis satiric vein, none pictures more truthfully than the Venusian the\ngrumbling of the husbandman, who \u201cturns the heavy clay with the hard\nplough.\u201d Embowered in some shady arbor on the windings of the Digentia\nthrough his Sabine farm, or doing a little amateur farming, to the\namusement, as he confesses, of his blunt country neighbors, who laughed\nat the dandy poet with a hoe in his hand, it was easy for Horace to\nchant the smooth and sunny side of country life. But the eight laborers\non his estate, chained literally to the soil, as many a New England\nfarmer morally is by the burden of debt or family, no doubt saw things\ndifferently. And the bailiff of his woodlands we know to have despised\nthose \u201cdesert and inhospitable wilds,\u201d and to have longed for the streets\nand shows of Rome. It is amazing upon what inattentive ears the music of\nour wild birds falls in a secluded farm-house. Often it seems absolutely\nunheard; while the clatter of the long street of the country town that\nthe farmer visits once a month is for ever in his mind.\n\nBut we delay too long at the way station at L----. Let us onwards.\n\nThe carrier of the United States mail, who is at the same time the Jehu\nof the passenger stage, slings our _impedimenta_ up behind with an energy\nto be envied by a veteran \u201cbaggage-smasher\u201d at some of our big depots,\nstraps it down, and jumps upon the box. We mount more slowly beside him,\ndisdaining to be shut up in the close interior, and intent upon looking\nat the country we pass through this lovely morning. The two stout grays\nbreast the hill leading to L---- Centre, eight miles distant.\n\nThe surface of the country is hilly and broken; as we approach L----,\nmountainous. Mounting the crest of the first steep hill, a beautiful\nnatural panorama spreads out before us: long, narrow, intersecting lines\nof timber, like giant hedges, dividing the hill farms from each other.\nA rolling country spreads toward the east, bounded on the horizon by a\nlow range of mountains wooded to the summit, and with a white steeple\nflashing out here and there among the trees at their base. The effects of\nlight and shade, caused by the clouds on a brilliant day, on one of those\nwhite steeples, standing out solitarily against the side of a mountain\neight or ten miles distant, are peculiar. Sometimes it becomes invisible,\nas the circle of the shadow is projected upon that area of the mountain\nwhich includes it. Then, as the dark veil moves slowly, with a sliding\nmotion, up the side and over the crest of the mountain, the white spire\nflashes out from the obscure background of the forest with a sudden\nbrilliancy. On this side patches of blue water among the trees in the\nhollows revealed the presence of numerous ponds, as the small lakes, and\nsome of the large ones, are universally called in New England.\n\nTo the northwest what seemed to be a level plain from the height over\nwhich we rode, but which was in reality broken and undulating ground,\nstretched beneath us for ten or twelve miles to the base of Mt.\nMonadnock. The mountain, grand, massive, and still veiled by a thin mist,\nrose boldly from the low country at its foot to a height of nearly four\nthousand feet.\n\nA ride of an hour and a half brought us to the top of the hill on the\nside of which stands L----. A dozen scattered houses flank the broad\nvillage green, and a Congregational meeting-house, with white belfry\ntower and green blinds, stands half-way down the incline.\n\nThe post-office and country store combined is at the cross-roads as you\ndrive down the hill, and some ancient elms on the green seem to nod at\nthe stranger with a friendly air as he enters the village. \u201cHere,\u201d said I\nto myself, \u201cis rural quiet and simplicity. Farewell for many slumberous\nweeks the busy haunts of men.\u201d L---- is quite out of the beaten track of\nsummer travel, and had been recommended me by a friend who had spent some\nseasons there, on the ground of economy, charming scenery, good fishing,\nand repose. Nor did I find any reason to regret having listened to him.\nA country tavern offers entertainment to man and beast, and is resorted\nto by the drummers and sample men who invade L----, as elsewhere, with\ntheir goods. But I was not forced to be dependent on it, as a letter from\nmy friend opened to me the hospitable doors of the comfortable farm-house\nwhere he had boarded two years before.\n\nHere let it be said at the outset that whatever the other drawbacks of\nvillage life in New Hampshire, there is among the farming class a natural\ncourtesy, and, among the women, even an inherited refinement of manner,\nespecially in their treatment of strangers, which speaks well for the\nnative stock. Prejudices there are among both men and women--deep-rooted,\nas we shall see--and narrow-minded opinions in plenty; but even these\nare concealed where to manifest them might give offence. The family\nin which I was domiciled consisted of Mr. Allen and his wife, their\nmarried daughter--who, together with her husband, resided with them--an\nunmarried daughter, and a pretty little girl, the grandchild. Mr. Allen\nkept a country store--for L---- boasted of two--and traded also in cattle\nwith Canada, making a journey sometimes as far as Montreal in the spring\nto buy stock, which he fattened on his pastures through the summer and\nautumn, and sold in the early part of the winter. These various ventures,\nwhich were on the whole successful--as the command of a little ready\nmoney enabled him to take his time and buy and sell to advantage--had\nmade him more \u201cforehanded\u201d than most of his neighbors. He was one of\nthe selectmen of L----. His dwelling-house, a large, white, well-kept\ntwo-story edifice, with a garden-plot facing the village street, a piazza\non the sunny side, and two beautiful maples dividing the carriage yard\nfrom the road, was one of the handsomest in L----. Mrs. Allen was one of\nthose energetic housewives whose sound sense and domestic capacity had\nevidently contributed not a little to her husband\u2019s present prosperity.\n\nThey were a sturdy couple, intelligent, honest, and knowing what was due\nto themselves and others; now going down the hill together with mutual\ndependence and confidence in each other. I consider them a good example\nof the best type of the New Hampshire farming class.\n\nThe married daughter did not compare favorably with the mother. One could\nnot say of her in any sense:\n\n    \u201cO matre pulchra filia pulchrior!\u201d\n\nfor, as to the question of female beauty, I will not say, as far as my\nobservations extend, that the New Hampshire, or indeed the New England\nwomen generally, outside the radius of Boston and some of the large\ntowns, are very generously endowed by nature with that gracious but\ndangerous gift. The lines of the face are too strongly marked; they are\nsallow, the form angular; or, where the figure is fuller, it is apt to be\nas redundant as the old Flemish painters make the women at a village fair.\n\nBut this absence of feminine beauty is not universal. I have seen a\nyoung mother with her babe in her lap--a visitor sitting in Mrs. Allen\u2019s\nparlor--who made a picture of beautiful maternity as dignified and\nsimple as Murillo ever painted. As for that more lasting moral beauty\nwhich, where it is feminine, puts on its most delightful and engaging\ncharm, Mrs. Harley, the married daughter, was too much engaged with\nher own little cares and gossip--poor woman!--to think much of so\nintangible a possession. Brought up, probably, in habits of more leisure\nand pleasure-seeking than her mother, who still took all the household\nwork upon herself, she was a victim of _ennui_ and of that blight of\ntoo many American homes--only one child to care for. Her health was\ndelicate and uncertain, and she bade fair to sink eventually into that\nclass of invalid wives which forms such an unhappily large percentage\nof American women. How often have I heard her complain of the dreadful\ndulness of the day! \u201cBut,\u201d I asked, \u201cwhat will you do in the winter, if\nyou find the summer so unbearable?\u201d Her answer was that they generally\nenjoyed themselves enough in the summer-time to be able to get through\nthe winter. I don\u2019t know whether this was a covert thrust at my lack of\nentertaining power; but I laughed at the stroke of satire at my expense,\ninnocent or intended. That long dreary, snow-shrouded New Hampshire\nwinter--it demanded indeed a stout heart to face it in one of those\nisolated villages. Mrs. Harley had given up her music when she married;\nthe piano stood idle in the best room. She read nothing--unless looking\nat the fashion-plates in a ladies\u2019 magazine be considered reading. A\nSunday-school picnic, a day\u2019s shopping in the nearest country town, were\nwhite days in her calendar. Is such a picture of life cheerless? Yet too\nmany women are forced to endure it elsewhere. Happy they if the abounding\nresources of the faith and its literature come to their aid! Mrs. Harley\nwas a kind woman withal, if her attention were drawn for a moment from\nherself; and an affectionate and anxious wife. This and her love for\nher child--fretful and over-indulgent as the latter sentiment was apt\nto be--were her redeeming qualities. Placed in a large city, with means\nequal in proportion to those within her reach in L----, she would have\nmade a more agreeable woman, and would have been tenfold happier herself.\nThe influence of semi-solitary life--where a religious vocation does not\nexalt and sanctify it--is more unfavorable in its effects upon women than\nupon men. The latter commonly have work to do which keeps their faculties\nfrom rusting. Woman\u2019s nature is essentially social.\n\nMr. Harley assisted his father-in-law in the store--a tall, handsome\nyoung man with a city air, who, at that season, sat in the store the\nwhole afternoon with perhaps one customer. Such a life for youth, with\nits superabundant energies ready to pour like a torrent into any\nchannel, is stagnation. The highest of man\u2019s natural powers rust and\ndecay. But natural forces have their sway in the great majority of such\ncases, and force an outlet for themselves. The youth of these villages\nleave their homes for the great cities, or take Horace Greeley\u2019s advice\nand \u201cgo West.\u201d Life is hard, and it is monotonous, which adds a new\nslavery to hardship. The exodus is constant. L---- has less population\nand fewer inhabited houses now than it had forty years ago. The same is\ntrue of other villages--a striking fact in a comparatively new country.\nOne rambles along some by-road overgrown with grass, and presently comes\nupon a deserted and ruined house and barn, the rafters only standing, or\nperhaps nothing more than a heap of bricks in the cellar. He asks about\nthe people, and is told that they have \u201cgone away.\u201d The answer is vague\nand uncertain as their fate. I spoke to an old man of eighty-seven,\nseated in the shade on the long bench before the country store, where he\ncould hear the news in the morning. He remembered with distinctness the\nevents of the war of 1812. He spoke with regret of the flourishing times\nof his youth in L---- and its dulness to-day. This roving disposition\nof the American youth is the result of immense elbow-room, and has\nbeen providential in building up new States and subduing the virgin\nwilderness. The manufacturing cities of New Hampshire also gain yearly at\nthe expense of the small villages. The township--or town, as it is most\ncommonly called--embraces three or four of such villages, and is subject\nto the same reciprocal movement. Comparatively few new farms have been\nbroken in during the last twenty or thirty years; and too rarely it\nhappens on the old farms that fresh ground is taken in from the pasture\nfor cultivation. The son tills what his father or grandfather cleared.\n\nThe first few days in L---- I spent rambling about the pastures--some\nof them literally red with the raspberry, which, though it has not the\ndelicacy or fragrance of the wild strawberry, is not to be disdained\nby the city palate--or climbing to the tops of the highest neighboring\nhills. What a sense of elastic joy and freedom to me, who had not spent\na summer in the country for three years, to lie stretched at full length\non the top of a new-mown hill, and let the eye wander over the valley\nbeneath, with its intervening woods and ponds, till it rested upon the\ndistant mountains, the cloud-shadows chasing each other over their sides\nand summits! If this were not in truth an Arcadia to those who lived and\ndied there, and were buried in the white-stoned churchyard among the\nelms--if to them life brought its cares, its jealousies, and sorrows--to\nthe stranger who sought nothing more than to enjoy its natural beauties\nit renewed all the associations of rural happiness and simplicity. Not\nthat one might hope to see a Corydon and Phillis issue from the New\nHampshire woods--for there is a sternness among those northern scenes,\neven in the brightest bloom of summer, foreign to the poetry of the\nSouth--but that in its dark pine groves and on its windy hills fancy\nmight picture an eclogue or a romance not less sweet and tender because\nmore real.\n\nL---- is on the height of land between the valleys of the Connecticut and\nMerrimac, between twenty and thirty miles distant from each. It is from\none thousand to one thousand three hundred feet above the sea level. It\nis said of the rain that falls on the roof of the village church that\npart of it eventually runs into the Connecticut, part into the Merrimac,\nso evenly does its roof-tree divide the water-shed of those rivers.\nBut as the same story is told of other churches in the central belt of\nCheshire County, it may be regarded rather in the light of a rhetorical\nillustration than as a fact of physical geography. The scenery is not\nof the grand or sublime order to be seen further north among the White\nMountains, except where Mt. Monadnock raises its dark and solemn front\nabove the surrounding landscape; but it is beautiful and picturesque.\nIts greatest charm is its variety. In the morning, when the sun was well\ntowards the zenith--for the fresh air of those hills made the day at\nall hours delightful--I would stroll out over the pastures to a hill a\nquarter of a mile distant from the farm-house. There would I seat myself,\nprotected from the sun\u2019s ardent rays, under a young maple bush, the\nelastic branches of which, with the sloping ground thick with ferns, made\na natural easy-chair. The valley is below me, the farms stretch along\nthe nearer hills, and in the further distance the blue-veiled mountains\ndefine the skyline. I bend down a branch of the maple, and before me is\nthe upper half of Mt. Monadnock, a thin gray mist still enveloping it.\nThe base of the mountain is hidden by an intervening hill. Leaving this\npasture, and walking a few hundred rods further on, I enter a field where\nthe hay has just been cut, and which is now as smooth as a croquet lawn,\nbut not so level; for it is the crest of one of the highest hills. Here a\nnew scene awaits me. To the north and west the hill has the shape almost\nof a perfect dome. Stretched on the top, I cannot see the declivities\nof the sides, but only the tops of the trees at some distance. One has\nthe sensation of being on the roof of a high building with a deep drop\nbetween him and the surrounding country. The view is superb. The whole\nmass of Mt. Monadnock, from its base to the highest elevation, rises\nfrom the valley ten miles distant. At its foot is the village of West\nJaffrey, a fashionable watering place. The white spire of the church\nis conspicuous among the trees. Further south is Gap Mountain and\nAttleborough Mountain; and sweeping round to the east, the view stretches\nalong the New Ipswich Mountains to Watatick Hill. The circuit extends\nabout twenty or thirty miles, making a picture of great natural beauty.\nThe English hay, as the timothy and red clover are generally called, was\nstill standing in many of the fields, but here and there the whirr of\nthe mowing-machine could be heard, and the eye, following the direction\nof the sound, could discern the mower in his shirt-sleeves driving his\npair of horses in the distant field. The meadow-grass of the lowlands was\nstill in most places untouched. On the sides of the hills the scattered\nfields of wheat, barley, and oats, still green, made darker patches of\nverdure on the yellowish ground-color.\n\nBut the view I most preferred was from a hill a little to the south of\nthe village near some deserted buildings. Here the scene was wilder\nand more extensive. To the west Mt. Monadnock could be seen through\na gorge between two hills; to the east was a wild and broken country;\nwhile to the south the woods seemed to extend as far as the eye could\nreach, and over the furthest range of hills the great dome of Mt.\nWachusett in Massachusetts, nearly thirty miles distant, was plainly\nseen, gray and massive, with the naked eye. It was only when one turned\nto Mt. Monadnock, ten miles distant, and observed how plainly he could\ndistinguish the different colors of the mountain--the dark woods, the\nbrown, bare surfaces, and the slate-colored rocks--that, looking at Mt.\nWachusett, and noting its uniform pale gray outline, he was able to\nestimate the real distance of the latter, so comparatively close at hand\ndid it appear.\n\nSeated at ease on the smooth turf on the summit of this \u201cheaven-kissing\u201d\nhill, and looking at this wide and beautiful prospect, one might repeat\nto himself Mr. Longfellow\u2019s lines:\n\n    \u201cPleasant it was, when woods were green\n        And winds were soft and low,\n    To lie amid some sylvan scene,\n    Where, the long, drooping boughs between,\n    Shadows dark and sunlight sheen\n        Alternate come and go;\u201d\n\nsubstituting only for \u201cdrooping boughs\u201d the irregular ranges of hills.\n\nBut descriptions of natural scenery, if long continued, are wearisome.\nEven a Ruskin is read best in snatches. The mind otherwise becomes\nclogged with images. Let us return, therefore, to animated life.\n\nAs Sunday approached, I made inquiries about the nearest Catholic church.\nI found it was at W----, eight or nine miles distant. I had no means\nof getting there the first Sunday. I retired to my room and read some\nchapters of that sublime and affecting work, the _Imitation of Christ_,\nthe gift of a good and beloved mother.\n\nA Catholic is still almost a being from another moral world in some\nof the isolated New Hampshire villages. Nowhere are the traditions of\nPuritanism more zealously or rigidly maintained. These good folk seem\nhardly yet to have emerged from a fog of wild amazement that \u201cpopish\u201d\npriests and their followers should be tolerated by the selectmen. Not\nthat any overt or offensive change of manner follows the announcement\nthat one is a Catholic--as I have elsewhere said, there is a natural or\ninherited vein of good manners among the people that forbids it--but a\nmomentary silence reveals to the speaker that he has stated something\nstrange and unlooked for. There is an unmistakable tone of intolerance\nmanifest, however, in any allusion to the poorer class of Irish and\nFrench that congregate in the larger towns, and are sometimes found in\nthe villages in a wooden-ware factory, or cutting wood or hemlock-bark,\nor doing an odd job of haymaking. They are looked upon with dislike\nand distrust, mixed with a feeling of contempt. Curious it is that the\nnative-born New Englander, with his mind saturated with hereditary\ntheories of personal liberty, equality, and fraternity, should yet\nevince a more unconquerable aversion to the foreign element, which has\ncontributed so largely to the greatness of the country, than is shown in\nEuropean countries to men of a different race, unless war has temporarily\nembittered national feeling. Yet the explanation is not hard to find.\nThis descendant of the Puritan, chained to the rocky and ungrateful\nsoil his forefathers won from the Indians and the wilderness, sees with\nsullen indignation and jealousy the same rights and privileges which\nhe enjoys under our free institutions extended so largely to those of\na different nationality and religion. In revenge he draws himself more\njealously into his shell. Nor is this feeling confined to the rich and\nrefined; it penetrates the mass of the native-born New England population.\n\nTo speak of lighter things. Society in L---- is eminently aristocratic.\nBetter, perhaps, it would be to say that the lines of society are very\nstrongly marked, and that the aristocratic element is essentially\nconservative.\n\nMrs. Cortland, the wife of the New York capitalist, who resides there\nthree months in the summer, a stout, refined, tight-gloved, graciously\ncondescending lady, gives a metropolitan tone to L---- society. Mr.\nCortland, an easy-going, easy-tempered man in private life, but reported\nto be hard as flint in business matters, seldom finds time to leave New\nYork, and his visits to L---- are uncertain. His country house, a large,\nhandsome mansion with well-kept grounds, croquet-lawn, coach-house, and\nstables, is on the highest ground in the village; and Mrs. Cortland\noccupies without dispute the highest ground socially. It is an imperial\nelevation, after the manner of the saying attributed to C\u00e6sar. A call\non Mrs. Cortland is the event of a week, and a return call from her\nis a matter not to be lightly treated. How have I seen this good Mrs.\nAllen, my landlady, prepare her best room for the grand occasion, and\nMrs. Harley speculate about it with well-assumed indifference a whole\nafternoon. One or two other magnates from Boston, scattered through L----\nand adjacent townships, save Mrs. Cortland from complete exhaustion by\ncontact with the village people during the summer.\n\nThen there is the local aristocracy, consisting of the wife of the\nCongregational pastor _ex-officio_, and Mrs. Parsons, the wife of\n\u201cSquire\u201d Parsons, who owns a small bucket-factory near L----. These two\nladies maintain a strict alliance, offensive and defensive, with Mrs.\nCortland during the summer. Then come the middle classes, comprising Mrs.\nAllen and Mrs. Harley, the young doctor\u2019s wife--a stranger and somewhat\nsnubbed by the autochthonous _\u00e9lite_--and the well-to-do farmers\u2019 wives.\nFinally, we have the _profanum vulgus_, the tail of L---- society, or,\nto speak more correctly, those whom society does not recognize--some\nfarmers\u2019 wives whose husbands were too much in debt to allow them to keep\nup appearances; one or two hapless women who sold milk in a wagon to\nthe neighboring towns, and drove the wagon themselves; and the village\nwasherwoman, who went around doing \u201cchores.\u201d I think I have exhausted the\nclassification of the social strata of L----. I observed that the men\neschewed as much as possible the aristocratic distinctions made by their\nwives, and were apt to resent by silence or the assumption of an unwonted\nbluntness the empty airs and loud voice with which some vulgar rich man\nfrom a neighboring large town would sometimes stride through the village.\n\nWanderers and waifs, destined apparently to be at some time drawn into\nthe great caldron of city life--perhaps to their own destruction--were\nnot wanting in L----. I have said that the women were not remarkable\nfor beauty. But there was one exception. A girl belonging to one of\nthe most destitute families in the village, by one of those whims of\nnature which are not uncommon, was gifted with a face and figure to\nattract even an unobservant eye, and which seemed out of place in that\nquiet and homely neighborhood. The mother, a poor, struggling woman with\na growing-up family of all ages, managed to live somehow by the days\u2019\nwork and occasional assistance given her by the well-to-do families.\nThe father was living, but spent most of his time in the county jail\nfor drunkenness. The daughter of whom I speak was about nineteen or\ntwenty years of age; tall, of fair complexion, with a naturally elegant\ncarriage and a proud and almost defiant air, as if she resented the\ncaprice of fortune which had placed her in that lowly station. She had\nthe art of dressing well with limited means, which some women possess\nto the envy of others. On Sundays and at picnics she outshone the more\nexpensively-dressed daughters of the farmers. She had been, and perhaps\nstill is, the maid at the village inn. It may be imagined that gossip was\nnot idle about this poor girl, thus singularly placed and dangerously\ngifted. Dreadful quarrels had taken place between the father and mother\nabout the girl\u2019s staying at the hotel; the drunken father, with a true\nsense of what was becoming, insisting that she should leave, the mother\nas strenuously maintaining that she should remain. The beauty of the\ngirl herself was not of that domestic type I have elsewhere noticed\nin the mother and her babe I saw in Mrs. Allen\u2019s parlor, but of that\nshowy, restless, naturally haughty stamp which presaged storm, perhaps\ndisaster. It is this class misfortune follows and the great cities sweep\ninto their net. Poverty often makes vice of that which, under happier\nfortunes, might have been attractive virtue. _Absit omen_. May this\nrustic beauty find a happier, if more homely, destiny as the wife of some\nhonest farmer in L----!\n\nThe summer passed, week after week. I fished, I walked, I rode, I read,\nI loitered. The barley ripened on the hill behind the farm-house, and\na golden tint began to spread over the distant fields. The apples grew\nlarge and ruddy on one side where the sun struck the laden branch in\nthe orchard. The tassels of the corn showed purple. August blazed. The\ndoves flew thirstily to the large blue pump, and perched on the edges\nof the horse-trough after the farmer watered his horse at mid-day. The\nbees hummed three at a time in the big yellow cups of the squash-vines.\nHave you ever observed of that homely vegetable how ingeniously and\ndexterously it fastens its daring and aggressive vines to the ground as\nit shoots out over the close-cut grass? Stoop down among the after-math,\nor rowen, as it is called in New Hampshire, and you will see that at the\ninosculation of each successive joint of the vine, where it throws out\nits tendrils and blossoms, it also thrusts forth slender, white, curling\nligaments that twist, each of them, tightly around a tiny tuft of the\nshort grass. Thus it moors itself, as if by so many delicate living\ncables, to the bosom of the life-giving earth.\n\nI might, if space allowed, tell of my fishing ventures, and how one\nglorious morning we rode out of L---- in a big yellow wagon with\nthree horses--a party of seven of us, ladies and gentlemen, from the\nvillage--to make the ascent of Mt. Monadnock. This is the lion of all the\ncountry round. Parties are made up every week to climb its rugged summit.\nOver the hills and rolling ground we gaily rattled. Through the sandy\ncountry roads, where the branches of the trees met overhead and made dim\naisles of verdure, we smoothly sped. And then what panting, laughing,\nclimbing, shrill screaming, as we toiled up the winding path from the\nhalf-way house to the top of the mountain! What a magnificent, boundless\nview repaid us! The day was clear. To the north, Mt. Kearsarge and\nrolling ranges of mountains; to the southeast, a diversified surface of\ncountry spreading onwards far as the eye could reach towards the unseen\nocean; to the south, Mt. Wachusett; below us woods, valleys, and lakes. A\nfeeling of awe creeps over one in these mountain solitudes.\n\nAs to the fishing, I will confess that to me, who had thrown a fly over\nmore than one Canadian river, and had killed my twenty-pound salmon\non the Nipisiquit, loafing with a pole in a boat over a lily-covered\npond for a half-pound pickerel was not tremendously exciting sport. But\nwhat mattered it? The mornings were soft and wooing; the woods were\nfull of mysterious shadows; the water was limpid as if Diana and her\nnymphs bathed there in the spectral moonlight. Life passed smoothly and\nagreeably. I sought no more.\n\nThe blackberries began to ripen, first one by one and then in sable\nclusters, in the pastures. The days were growing shorter. The twilight\nsank more quickly into night. September approached, and I began to\nlook for the appearance of my friend Jones. I had seen Miss Cortland\ntwo or three times coming from or going to the meeting-house on Sunday\nmornings, when all the beauty and fashion of L---- for miles around rode\nup in buggies, carryalls, or open wagons; but I had never met her to be\nintroduced to her--a little imperial beauty, with a fresh and rosy color,\nand a mouth shaped like Cupid\u2019s bow, that needed only to smile to conquer.\n\nOn a bright September morning, when the surrounding atmosphere was clear\nas a bell, but a thin haze still clung about Mt. Monadnock and the\nfar-off mountains, Jones rode over on the stage-coach from the railroad\nstation and joined me at L----. He asked eagerly about Miss Cortland.\n\nWas she in the village?\n\nYes.\n\nHad I met her?\n\nNo; but I had seen her two or three times.\n\nWhat did I think of her?\n\nWell, I thought her pretty enough to excuse a little wildness of\nimagination on his part. He would be a lucky fellow if he got her and\nsome of her father\u2019s money or a position in his business!\n\nDid I think he would give up his Art so easily?\n\n\u201cMy dear Jones,\u201d I replied, \u201cI don\u2019t want to appear cold-blooded,\nor to dash your enthusiasm for your art in the least; but, to speak\ncandidly, I should not be surprised if you did some day under sufficient\ntemptation--the prospect of marrying Miss Cortland, for example.\u201d\n\nJones declared his intention of calling on Miss Cortland that very day.\nHe had a sketch-book full of studies, spirited, but many of them mere\nhints. He came back before dinner, full of life, and proposing a score\nof schemes for to-morrow. He made a sort of small whirlwind in my quiet\nlife. Mrs. Cortland had received him civilly, but he thought a little\ncoolly. But he had seen Agnes, and had spoken a few words to her that\nmight mean much or little as they were taken, and he was happy--rather\nboisterously happy, perhaps, as a young fellow will be at such\ntimes--full of jokes, and refusing to see a cloud on his horizon.\n\nJones fell easily into our farm-house ways, though he was apt to steal\noff in the mornings to play croquet on the Cortlands\u2019 lawn with Miss\nCortland and Miss Parsons, and any other friend they could get to join\nthem.\n\nOne afternoon, when the sun was getting low and a southerly wind blowing,\nwe started to try for some fish at a pond about half an hour\u2019s walk from\nthe house. As we turned off the highway into a by-road covered with grass\nthat led to the pond, I saw Miss Cortland standing on the rising ground\nsome distance before us. She was looking from us towards the sinking sun,\nnow veiled in quick-drifting clouds. Her dog, a large, powerful animal, a\ncross between a Newfoundland and Mount St. Bernard, was crouched at her\nfeet. Some vague thoughts about Una and her lion flitted through my mind.\nBut I was more struck by the way the light touched her figure, standing\nout motionless against the gray sky. It reminded me very much of the\ngeneral effect of a painting by a foreign artist--Kammerer, I think it\nwas--that I saw at the exhibition of the Boston Art Club last year. It\nwas the picture of a girl standing on a pier on the French coast, looking\nout to sea. Her golden hair was slightly stirred by the breeze, her lips\na little parted, and there was a far-away look in her eyes, as if she may\nhave expected a lover to be coming over the sea in one of the yachts that\nlined the horizon. The dress of the girl and the stone-work of the pier\nwere both white. It was a good example of the striking effects produced\nby the free use of a great deal of almost staring white, which is a\nfavorite device of the latest school of French art.\n\nAs we advanced, the dog growled and rose, but, recognizing Jones, wagged\nhis tail inoffensively as we drew nearer. Miss Cortland turned towards us.\n\n\u201cShall I introduce you?\u201d said Jones.\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d I said. \u201cI\u2019ll go on to the pond. I\u2019ll see you to-night.\u201d\n\nJones advanced, hat in hand. \u201cWhat happy fortune,\u201d he said, addressing\nher, \u201chas led me to meet the goddess of these woods?\u201d Then, altering his\ntone, he added in a bantering way: \u201cI see you have been poaching on our\npreserves, Miss Cortland. But I do wonder at your taste, fishing for\neels!\u201d pointing to a small basket on her arm from which hung some of the\nlong stems of the pond-lily. This he said to vex her, knowing her horror\nof those creatures. \u201cEels?\u201d she exclaimed indignantly, with a tone and\ngesture of aversion at the thought. \u201cThey are pond-lilies.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! that is very well to say,\u201d replied Jones, \u201cwhen you have the lid of\nthe basket down to hide them; but I insist upon their being eels unless\nyou show them to me.\u201d\n\nBy this time I was out of hearing. I left them together, and kept on down\nthe road to the pond.\n\nThat night Jones came into my room with a quieter manner than usual. He\nwas evidently very happy, but his happiness had a sobering effect upon\nhim. He told me that he had made a plain avowal of his feelings to Agnes\nCortland as they walked home together, and that he had won from her the\nconfession that she loved him and had not been indifferent to him before\nhe left for Europe. I wished him joy of his good-fortune, though I could\nforesee plainly enough that his difficulties had only begun. For a little\ntime these two innocent young souls--for Jones I knew to be singularly\nunsullied by the world for a man of his age--would enjoy their paradise\nundisturbed together. Then would come maternal explanations, and the\nfather\u2019s authority would be invoked. A solemn promise would be exacted\nfrom her to see him no more. Miss Cortland was much attached to her\nparents, who would be sincerely anxious for her welfare. She would not\nmake much resistance. Some day there would come a storm of tears, and\npoor Jones\u2019s letters and the ring he gave her would be returned to him\nby a faithful messenger, and a little note, blotted with tears, asking\nhim to forgive her and praying for his happiness. This must be the end.\nA year or two of separation and a summer and winter in Europe with her\nparents would leave nothing more than a little sad memory of her brief\nNew Hampshire romance; and in five years she would be married to some\nforeigner of distinction or successful man of business, and would be a\nhappy wife and mother. As for poor Jones, he would probably be heard of\nat rare intervals for a year or two as a trader on the Pacific coast\nor prospecting a claim in Nevada. But men like him, vigorous, powerful,\nwell equipped in body and temper for the struggle with the world, are not\nkept down long by such disappointments. The storm is fierce, and leaves\nits scars after it; but the man rises above it, and is more closely knit\nthereafter. Jones will make his mark in the world of business, if not of\nart.\n\nNo unwelcome prophecies of mine, however, disturbed his happiness for\nthose few days. I let events take their course. Why should I interrupt\nhis dream by Cassandra-like anticipations of woe, which would have been\nresented as a reflection upon the constancy of his idol? I know that\nthey met frequently for the following three or four days. Then came the\npacking up for departure. My long holiday was over.\n\nOn a foggy morning in September we steamed up the Sound on a Fall\nRiver boat. Through Hell Gate the stately boat sped on her way, past\nBlackwell\u2019s Island, and across the bows of the Brooklyn ferry-boats,\ncrowded with passengers for the city in the early morning. Around the\nBattery we swept, into the North River, and slowly swung alongside of\nPier 28. Then the hackmen yelled at us; our coach stuck at the corner of\nthe street; a jam followed; the drivers swore; the policemen shouted and\nthreatened; the small boys grinned and dodged between the horses; and a\nward politician, with a ruby nose, looked on complacently from the steps\nof a corner \u201csample\u201d room. In one word, we were in New York, and our\nvillage life in Hampshire was a thing of the past.\n\n\nTHE PALATINE PRELATES OF ROME.\n\nWhatever is connected with our Holy Father must have an interest for\nCatholics; and at the present time especially it would seem desirable to\nknow something about the origin and functions of those faithful prelates\nof whom this article treats, and with some of whom American visitors to\nRome may be likely to have relations. They are called palatine prelates\nbecause lodged in the same palace as the sovereign, and in these days of\ntrouble are the nearest to his most sacred Majesty in his solitude and\nsufferings. They are four in number, and belong to the pope\u2019s intimate\ncourt and confidence, their names being registered in the Roman _Notizie_\nimmediately after those of the palatine cardinals among the members of\nthe pontifical family.\n\n\nMAGGIORDOMO.\n\nThe majordomo, called in good Latin, the official language of the church,\n_Magister Domus Pap\u00e6_, is the first of these prelates and one of the\nhighest dignitaries of the Holy See. The chief of the royal palace\nhas had in all countries immense influence and power; and in France\nand Scotland, at least, the _Maires du palais_ and stewards succeeded\nin mounting the throne. This officer, who, like the other three, is\nalways a clergyman, is the high steward of his Holiness and master of\nhis household, remaining day and night conveniently near to the Pope\u2019s\nperson, of which he has the special care, and for the safety of which he\nis responsible to the Sacred College. Until the present reign he was\nsupreme under the sovereign, in the civil, military, and ecclesiastical\naffairs of the court, having his own tribunal of civil and criminal\njurisdiction.[141] Some years ago, however, a part of the prerogatives\nof this office was transferred to the Cardinal Secretary of State; but\neven now the majordomo is at the head of the administration of the palace\nin which the Pope may reside for the time being, and on a vacancy of the\nsee is _ex-officio_, by a decree of Clement XII. in 1732, governor of\nthe conclave.[142] In this latter capacity, by a natural order of things\nwhich cannot be long delayed (yet God grant it may!), he will have to\nact a part during one of the most critical periods in the history of\nChristian Rome. He has the privilege[143] for life of using the pope\u2019s\narms with his own, and consequently retains this heraldic distinction\neven after he has been promoted to the cardinalate to which his office\nsurely leads, sooner or later, according to a court custom that began\nin the middle of the XVIIth century.[144] The origin of this office is\ninvolved in some doubt, owing to its antiquity. It must have been that,\nin the palace given to Pope Melchiades by the Emperor Constantine, some\nperson conspicuous for piety and prudence was appointed to keep the\nmembers of a large and constantly-increasing court in mutual harmony and\nsubjection to authority, while relieving the pontiff of the immediate\nsuperintendence of his household, and leaving him free to give his\nprecious time to public and more important matters. At all events, at\na very early period after this there is mentioned among the officers\nattached to the _Patriarchium Lateranense_--as the old _\u00c6des Lateran\u00e6_\nwere then called--a _Vice-dominus_, who was chosen from the Roman clergy,\nand was often, as the more modern prelates have been, invested with the\nepiscopal dignity. He was answerable for the good order and harmonious\nadministration of the palace; and the extent of that portion of it\nin which he dwelt and had his offices, as well as held his court of\njurisdiction over the papal domestics,[145] must have been large, since\nit was called the _vicedominium_; and although his successor fifteen\nhundred years later has not the same ample powers that he enjoyed, he is\nstill a personage so considerable that the part of the Vatican in which\nhe resides is known officially as the _Maggiordomato_. The earliest name\n(not title) of such an officer which has come down to us is that of a\ncertain priest Ampliatus, who is mentioned in the year 544 as having\naccompanied Pope Vigilius to Constantinople for the affair of the Three\nChapters, and being detached from the pontiff\u2019s suite at Sicily on their\nway back, with orders to hurry on to Rome, where the concerns of the\nLateran seem to have suffered by his absence. Anatolius, a deacon, held\nthe office under S. Gregory the Great, who was very particular to have\nonly virtuous and learned men about him; and in 742 Benedict, a bishop,\nheld it under S. Zachary, who sent him on a mission to Luitprand, King of\nthe Lombards. This officer is mentioned for the last time in history as\n_Vice-dominus_ in the year 1044, when an archdeacon Benedict served under\nBenedict IX. After this period, those who held the analogous position\nwere styled chamberlains of the Holy Roman Church until 1305, when, the\ncourt being at Avignon, a large share of their duties and privileges was\ngiven to a nobleman of high standing, who was called _Maestro del sacro\nOspizio_.[146]\n\nUnder Alexander V., in 1409, the Holy Father having returned to Rome,\nmention is made for the first time, in a paper drawn up for the guidance\nof the court, of a prefect of the apostolic palace--_Magister domus\npontifici\u00e6_--who was the same as the later majordomo, the name only\nhaving been changed by Urban VIII. in 1626. The series of these high\nprelates, to the number of 99--belonging generally to the very first\nnobility of Italy, and showing such illustrious names as Colonna,\nGonzaga, Farnese, Frangipani, Visconti, Acquaviva, Cybo, Cenci, Caraffa,\nPico della Mirandola, Piccolomini, Borghese, Borromeo, etc.--begins with\nAlexander Mirabelli, a Neapolitan, who was named to the office by Pius\nII. in the month of August, 1458.\n\n\nMAESTRO DI CAMERA.\n\nThis officer, whose official title in Latin is _Prefectus cubiculi\nSanctitatis su\u00e6_, is the second palatine prelate. He is the grand\nchamberlain of his Holiness, carries out the entire court ceremonial,\nand has the supervision of all audiences, as well as admittances of\nwhatever kind to the presence of the Pope. How important and confidential\nis this post which he holds at the door of the papal chambers may best\nbe judged from the single fact that no one can approach the sovereign\nwithout his knowledge in all and his consent[147] in most cases. He has\nsometimes the episcopal character--in truth, was usually in times past\nan archbishop _in partibus_; but it is now more customary for him to be\nsimply in priest\u2019s orders. If, however, he be not already a prelate of\nhigh rank, he is always, immediately after his nomination to the office,\nmade an apostolic prothonotary, with precedence over all his brethren\nin that ancient and honorable college. Like his immediate superior, he\nhas the privilege of quartering the Pope\u2019s arms with his own. He is the\nkeeper of the Fisherman\u2019s ring, and at the Pope\u2019s death delivers it up\nto the cardinal chamberlain of the Holy Roman College, who gives him a\nnotarial receipt for it. This celebrated ring is the official one of the\npopes, and gets its name from having the figure of S. Peter in a bark\nand casting his net into the sea engraved upon it. Above this figure is\ncut the name of the reigning pontiff. It is the first among the rings,\nbut the second in the class of seals, since it only serves as the privy\nseal or signet used on apostolic briefs and matters of subordinate\nconsequence,[148] whereas the Great Seal is used to impress the heads\nof SS. Peter and Paul in lead (sometimes, but rarely, in gold) on papal\nbulls. At first this ring was a private and not an official one of the\npope; for in a letter from Perugia of March 7, 1265, addressed by Clement\nIV. to his nephew Peter Le Gros, he says that he writes to him and to his\nother relatives, not _sub bulla, sed sub piscatoris sigillo, quo Romani\nPontifices in suis secretis utuntur_; from which we gather that the ring\nwas in use some time before, but by whom introduced is unknown, as is\nalso the precise period when it became official, although this happened\nduring one or other of the XVth century pontificates. Perhaps the first\ntime that the now familiar expression, \u201cGiven under the Fisherman\u2019s\nring,\u201d is met with in the manner of a formal statement or curial formula,\nsuch as it has been ever since retained, is in a document of Nicholas V.\ndated from Rome--_Datum Rom\u00e6_--on the 15th of April, 1448.\n\nThe institution of this office is extremely ancient, but, like most\nothers of the court, it has had different names and increased or\ndiminished attributions at various periods. The modern Romans take a\nlegitimate pride in being able to deduce many of their great court\noffices from the corresponding ones of the C\u00e6sars, to whom their\nsovereign has succeeded. Thus this officer is sometimes called in\nclassical Latin _Magister admissionum_, such an one being mentioned by\nthe historian Ammianus Marcellinus (xv. 5); and his office _Officium\nadmissionis_, which is found in Suetonius\u2019 _Life of Vespasian_ (xiv.)\nAmong the members of the household of S. Gregory the Great in the year\n601 there was a certain (S.) Paterius, _Secundicerius_ of the Holy See\n(corresponding to the modern sub-dean of the apostolic prothonotaries,\nthe dean being _Primicerius_). He had to make known to the pope the\nnames of those who solicited the favor of an interview; and it is\nprobable that he also gave (as is now given) along with the name some\naccount of the quality and business of the visitor, for fear that the\npontiff should be unnecessarily intruded upon or brought in contact\nwith unworthy and perhaps dangerous characters. Investigators into the\norigin of the offices of the Holy See have fixed upon this person as\nthe remote predecessor of the present _Maestro di Camera_; but all the\ncharges of the palace having been remodelled and placed nearly on their\npresent footing about four hundred and fifty years ago, and many of\nthe court records having been lost or stolen during the disturbed era\nbetween the pontificates of Clement V. (1305) and Martin V. (1417)--which\nincludes the periods of Avignon and the schism--the authentic roll of the\nholders of these high offices of state rarely begins earlier than the\nXVth century. Thus the first grand chamberlain of the modern series is\nBindaccio Ricasoli of Florence, who was _Magister aul\u00e6 palatii_ to John\nXXIII. in 1410. The present one is Monsignor Ricci-Paracciani, a Roman,\nwho, however, has become majordomo by Monsignor Pacca\u2019s promotion. The\n_Maestro di Camera_, being constantly in company with exalted personages\nwho seek an audience of the Holy Father and wait their turn in, or at all\nevents pass through, the _Anticamera nobile_, which opens immediately\ninto the Pope\u2019s reception-room, must be distinguished for good breeding\nand courtliness, and serve as a model to his subordinates in that august\napartment, lest it be said of him:\n\n    \u201cHis manners had not the repose\n    That marks the caste of Vere de Vere.\u201d\n\nHence we are prepared to find the noblest families of Italy represented\nin the office, and notice such patrician names as Odescalchi, Altieri,\nFieschi, Ruffo, Doria, Massimo, Pignatelli, Caracciolo, Barberini,\nRiario-Sforza, etc.\n\n\nUDITORE.\n\nThe auditor of his Holiness--_Auditor Pap\u00e6_--is the agent-general, most\nintimate privy councillor, and canonist of the Pope. He is third in rank\nof the palatine prelates, and lived in the Quirinal, where his offices\nand the archives were situated, until the present iniquitous occupation,\nsince which they have been removed to the Torlonia palace, near the\nVatican. This office was instituted by Paul II. (1464-1471), and the\nfirst to hold it was the renowned J. B. Millini, a Roman, who was at the\nsame time Bishop of Urbino (which was administered by some one else in\nhis name); he later became a cardinal under Sixtus IV., in 1476. His\nsuccessor at the present time is Monsignor Sagretti. Up to this century\nthe power and general influence of the auditor were extraordinary, since\nhe had a court of justice and ample jurisdiction, even exercising in the\nname of the Pope the supremacy of appeal in many matters. For this reason\nthe great epigraphist Morcelli, who wrote before these judicial functions\nwere abolished, called him _Judex sacrarum cognitionum_. Formerly he gave\naudience to all comers about matters of equity and appeal on Tuesdays,\nin his apartment at the Quirinal, standing in his prelatic robes behind\na low-backed throne supposed by a sort of fiction to be then occupied\nby the Pope;[149] hence he was called in choice Latin _Cognoscens vice\nsacr\u00e2_--_i.e._, in _lieu_ of his Holiness. The common Italian appellation\n_Uditore Santissimo_ is only a corrupt rendering of the Latin _Auditor\nSanctissimi_. This post has always been occupied by one of the ablest\njurists in Italy; and even now the auditor must be both very learned and\nmost incorruptible, from the part that he takes officially in filling\nvacant sees and making other important nominations.\n\n\nMAESTRO DEL SACRO PALAZZO.\n\nThe Master of the Holy Apostolic Palace--_Magister Sacri Palatii\nApostolici_--is one of the most distinguished members for piety and\ndoctrine of the Dominican Order. He is the Pope\u2019s official theologian,\nand usually a consultor of several Roman congregations, more nearly\nconcerned with matters of faith and morals, as the Inquisition,\nIndulgences and Relics, Index, etc. He ranks fourth among the palatine\nprelates, and resided until the late invasion in the Quirinal Palace\nwith his \u201ccompanion\u201d and two lay brothers of his order. He is considered\nan honorary auditor of the Rota, and as such has a place with the\nprelates of this class in the papal chapels and reunions. He retains\nthe habit of his order, but wears on his hat a black prelatical band.\nHe is _ex-officio_ president of the Theological Faculty in the Roman\nUniversity, and the person to whom was entrusted the censorship of the\npress. The origin of this office dates from the year 1218, when S.\nDominic, who established the Order of Friars Preachers, suggested to\nHonorius III. that it would be proper if some one were charged to give\nreligious instruction to the many servants of cardinals, prelates, and\nothers, who used to spend their time idly in useless talk and slanderous\ngossip with their brethren of the papal palace while their masters\nwere expecting an audience or engaged with his Holiness.[150] The Pope\nwas pleased, and at once appointed Dominic to the good work, who began\nby explaining the Epistles of S. Paul.[151] The fruit of these pious\nconferences was so apparent that the pope determined to perpetuate\nthem under the direction of a Dominican. Besides the more familiar\ninstructions, which were given at first extempore, it was arranged\nlater that while the pope and court were listening to the preacher\nappointed to sermonize in the palace during Advent and Lent, the papal\ndomestics and other servants should also have the benefit of formal\ndiscourses, but in another part of the building. It was always the father\n_master_--_i.e._, doctor--who held forth to them until the XVIth century,\nwhen the duties of his office becoming more onerous, especially by reason\nof the many attempts to misuse the recently-discovered art of printing\nto corrupt faith and morals in Rome itself, the obligation devolved upon\nhis companion--_Pro-Magister_ or _Socius_--who also holds three days of\ncatechism in preparation for each of the four general communions that\nare given yearly in the palace. This deputy is appointed by the master,\nand is a person of consequence, succeeding sometimes to the higher\noffice. The present master is Vincenzo Maria Gatti. When the learned\nAlexander V. became pope (1409), the Master of the Palace was required\nto stand by at his meals, especially on Sundays and festival days, and\nbe ready to propose difficult points of debate, or to enter into an\nargument on any matter and with any person present as the Holy Father\nshould command.[152] There have been seventy-nine occupants of this\noffice since its institution (not to count several anti-masters created\nby anti-popes), of whom seventeen have been made cardinals, and among\nthem the celebrated church historian Orsi. The great writer on Christian\nantiquities, Mamachi, held this office with distinction. It is one, of\ncourse, in which \u201cbrains\u201d rather than \u201cblood\u201d find a place; and since\nthere is no royal road to learning--for as an old monkish couplet says:\n\n    \u201cGutta cavat lapidem, non vi, sed s\u00e6pe cadendo,\n    Sic homo fit doctus, non vi, sed s\u00e6pe studendo\u201d\n\n--we are not surprised that the series of Masters of the Apostolic Palace\nexhibits no such names as those that predominate among the chamberlains\nand majordomos--\u201cNot many noble\u201d (1 Cor. i. 26).\n\nIn the mother-church of the Dominican Order at Rome, _Santa Maria sopra\nMinerva_, which is also the title of the first American cardinal,[153]\nthere is a special vault beneath the chapel of S. Dominic for the\nentombment of the masters; but the brutal invaders who now hold\npossession of Rome having forbidden all intra-mural burials--evidently\nthrough malice, because, from the dry nature of the soil and the\nperfection of Roman masonry, there could not be the slightest danger\nfrom a moderate number of interments within the city--they will have to\nsleep after death in some less appropriate spot: \u201cHow long shall sinners,\nO Lord, how long shall sinners glory?\u2026 Thy people, O Lord, they have\nbrought low: and they have afflicted thy inheritance\u201d (Ps. xciii.)\n\n\nPOWER, ACTION, AND MOVEMENT.\n\nThe word \u201cmotion\u201d is now commonly used for movement, but it properly\nmeans the action by which a thing is set into movement. This action,\nor motion, of course proceeds from an agent, and consists in the\nproduction of an act, or momentum, which must be terminated or received\nin a patient. The active power of the agent is its substantial act as\nvirtually containing in itself all the acts which the agent is ready to\nproduce, according to its nature. This active power may therefore be\ncalled the virtuality, or terminability, of the act by which the agent\nis. The momentum produced by such a power stands to the power in the same\nontological relation as the _now_ of time to the virtuality of God\u2019s\neternity, and as the ubication of a point in space to the virtuality of\nGod\u2019s immensity; for in all these cases there is question of nothing\nelse than of an extrinsic terminability and an extrinsic term. We may,\ntherefore, in treating of motive powers and momentums, follow the same\norder of questions which we have followed in our articles on space and\nduration.\n\nBut the subject which we are about to investigate has a special feature\nof its own; because in the exertion of active power, and consequently in\nthe momentums produced, there is something--_intensity_--which is not to\nbe met with either in the _when_ or in the _where_. For the _when_ and\nthe _where_ are mere terms of intervals or distances, and do not partake\nin their continuity; from which it follows that they are not quantities,\nbut merely terms of quantities, whereas the momentum of motion is the\nformal principle of the real changes produced by the agent in the\npatient. And these changes admit of different degrees, and thus by their\ngreater or less magnitude reveal the greater or less intensity of the\nexertion. The reason of this difference is very plain; for the _when_ and\nthe _where_ are not efficiently produced by God\u2019s eternity and immensity,\nfor these divine attributes do not connote action. Their origin is not\nto be traced to action, but to resultation, as we have explained in\nour preceding articles. The entity of every creature, on the contrary,\nproceeds from God as efficient cause--that is, it does not merely result\nfrom the existence of other things, but it is actively produced; and,\nsince an act produced must have some degree of perfection, creatures are\nmore or less perfect as to their entity, and therefore have in their own\nact a greater or less power of acting, according to the degree of their\nentitative perfection. This explains why it is that there is intensity in\nall action and in all act produced, whereas there is no intensity in the\n_when_ and the _where_.\n\nBut, apart from this special feature, the questions regarding active\npowers, actions, and the acts produced are entirely similar to those\nwhich we have answered in treating of space and of duration. Nay, more,\nthe same questions may be viewed under three distinct aspects--viz.,\nfirst, with reference to the divine power and its causality of contingent\nthings; secondly, with reference to second causes, their actions, and\nthe momentums produced by them; and, thirdly, with reference to these\nmomentums themselves and the local movements resulting from them. This\nthird view of the subject is the only one immediately connected with\nthe notions of space and of time, and we might limit ourselves to its\nconsideration. Nevertheless, to shed more light on the whole treatise,\nwe propose to say something of the other two also; for, by tracing\nthe actions and the phenomena of the material world to their original\nsources, we shall discover that all different grades of reality are\nlinked with their immediate principles in such a manner as to exhibit\na perpetual analogy of the lower with the higher, till we reach the\nhighest--God.\n\nTo ascertain the truth of this proposition, let us recall to mind the\nmain conclusions established by us with respect to space. They were as\nfollows:\n\n1st. There is void space--that is, a capacity which does not imply the\npresence of anything created.\n\n2d. Void space is an objective reality.\n\n3d. Void space was not created.\n\n4th. Absolute space is the virtuality, or extrinsic terminability, of\nGod\u2019s immensity.\n\n5th. Absolute space is not modified by the presence of matter in it--that\nis, by its extrinsic termination.\n\n6th. Ubications are extrinsic terms of absolute space, and their\nrelations have in space itself an extrinsic foundation.\n\nA similar series of conclusions was established in regard to duration.\nThey were:\n\n1st. There is a standing duration--that is, an actuality which does not\nimply succession.\n\n2d. Standing duration is an objective reality.\n\n3d. Standing duration is not created.\n\n4th. Standing duration is the virtuality, or extrinsic terminability, of\nGod\u2019s eternity.\n\n5th. Standing duration is not modified by the existence in it of created\nthings--that is, by its extrinsic termination.\n\n6th. The _whens_ of creatures are extrinsic terms of standing duration,\nand their relations have in standing duration their extrinsic foundation.\n\nBefore we give the analogous conclusions concerning active powers and\ntheir causality, we have to premise that all power ready to act is\nsaid to be _in actu primo_, or in the \u201cfirst act,\u201d with respect to its\ntermination and term, or act, which it is ready to produce. Its action\nis its termination, and it consists in the causation of a _second act_.\nThis second act, inasmuch as it exists in its proper term, potency, or\nsubject, is called _actio in facto esse_--that is, an action wholly\ncomplete, though the action proper is always _in fieri_; for it consists\nin the very production of such a second act, as we have just stated. The\nresult of this production is the existence of a new reality, substantial\nor accidental, according to the nature of the act produced. This\nwell-known terminology we shall use here for the parallel development of\nthe three classes of questions which we have to answer.\n\n_Origin of Power._--First, then, with regard to the primary origin of\nactive and moving powers, we lay down the following conclusions:\n\n1st. There is some absolute power--that is, a first act which has no need\nof producing any second act.\n\n2d. Absolute power is an objective reality.\n\n3d. Absolute power is uncreated.\n\n4th. Absolute power is the virtuality, or extrinsic terminability, of the\nact by which God is.\n\n5th. Absolute power is not modified by the production of effects--that\nis, by its extrinsic termination.\n\n6th. The beings thus produced are extrinsic terms of God\u2019s power; and\nalthough, owing to their intrinsic perfection, which may be greater or\nless, they can be related to one another by an intrinsic foundation, yet\ntheir \u201centitative distances\u201d have only an extrinsic foundation--to wit,\nGod\u2019s omnipotence.\n\nSome of these propositions are so obvious that they might have been\nomitted but for the object we have in view of pointing out the\nparallelism of absolute power with space and duration.\n\nThe first of these conclusions is proved thus: All first act which\nnaturally needs to produce some second act has an intrinsic and natural\nordination to something distinct from itself; for all effect is really\ndistinct from its efficient principle. But it cannot be admitted without\nabsurdity that every first act has such an intrinsic and natural\nordination; for, if everything were thus ordained to something else,\nall things would tend to some subordinate end, while there would be no\nsupreme end at all; for nothing that is ordained to something else can\nrank as the supreme end. On the other hand, no subordinate ends can be\nadmitted without a supreme end. And therefore there must be some first\nact which has no intrinsic necessity of producing any second act. Such a\nfirst act is altogether absolute.\n\nThe second conclusion is evident. For what we call here \u201ca first act\u201d\nis not an imperfect and incomplete act, since it needs no termination;\nnor is it a result of mental abstraction and analysis, but a perfect\nprinciple of real operations; for the epithet \u201cfirst,\u201d by which we\ncharacterize it, does not imply that it lacks anything in its entity,\nbut, on the contrary, it means that it already contains eminently the\nwhole reality of the effects which it is competent to produce. Hence it\nis clear that, if such effects are objective realities, the first act on\nwhich their production depends is an objective reality, and a much better\none too.\n\nThe third conclusion needs no proof, it being evident that whatever\nis created must tend to the end of its creation, which is the\nmanifestation of the perfections of its creator. This manifestation\nimplies action--viz., a transition of the first act to its second act.\nAccordingly, a first act which has no necessary ordination to second acts\ncannot be created.\n\nThe fourth conclusion follows from the third, since an uncreated act can\nbe nothing else than the act by which God is. This act, inasmuch as it\neminently contains the reality of all possible things, is extrinsically\nterminable, and as thus terminable it exhibits itself as a \u201cfirst\u201d act.\nBut, since God has no need of creatures, such a first act has no need\nof extrinsic terminations, and, as first, it constitutes omnipotence,\nor God\u2019s absolute power. This power in its infinite simplicity has an\ninfinite range, as it extends to all conceivable reality.\n\nThe fifth conclusion will be easily understood by reflecting that the\nextrinsic termination of active power consists in giving existence to\ncontingent things by efficient action. Now, to act efficiently does not\nbring about any intrinsic change in the agent; for all intrinsic change\nfollows from passion, which is the opposite of action. Nor does God, when\ngiving existence and active powers to any number of creatures, weaken\nhis own power. For the power imparted to creatures is not a portion of\nthe divine power, but a product of creation, and nothing, in fact, but\nthe created act itself. For, as all contingent things are created for\nthe manifestation of God\u2019s perfections, all creatures must be active;\nand as everything acts as it is in act, the act being the principle of\nthe acting, it follows that all act produced by creation is an active\npower of greater or less perfection according to the part it is destined\nto fill in the plans of its Maker. This shows that the act by which a\ncreature is, bears a resemblance to the act by which God is, inasmuch as\nit virtually contains in itself all those acts which it is fit to produce\naccording to its nature. But, since all contingent act is extrinsic\nto God, divine omnipotence is not entitatively and intrinsically more\nactuated by creation than by non-creation; though, if God creates any\nbeing, from the term produced he will acquire the real denomination of\nCreator. Thus the existence of a contingent being is the existence of a\nreal term, which extrinsically terminates the virtuality of God\u2019s act, in\nwhich it is eminently contained. Its relation to its Creator is one of\ntotal dependence; whilst God\u2019s relation to it is that of first causality.\nThe foundation of this relation is the action which proceeds from God\nand terminates in the creature.\n\nThe first part of the sixth conclusion, that beings produced by creation\nare extrinsic terms of God\u2019s power, has just been explained. But we say,\nmoreover, that the entitative distances between such beings have an\nextrinsic foundation in God\u2019s omnipotence. By \u201centitative distance\u201d we\nmean the difference in degree between distinct beings--_v.g._, between\na man and a tree--as we have explained in another place.[154] And we\nsay that, as the distance between two material points in space has its\nextrinsic foundation in the virtuality of God\u2019s immensity, so also the\nentitative distance of two beings has its extrinsic foundation in the\nvirtuality of God\u2019s infinite act--that is, in divine omnipotence. In\nfact, the different degrees of entity conceivable between the tree and\nthe man are all virtually contained in God\u2019s omnipotence, just as all the\ndistinct ubications possible between two points are virtually in God\u2019s\nimmensity. Hence the foundation of such entitative distances is extrinsic\nto the beings compared in the same manner as the foundation of local\ndistances.\n\nBut the terms produced by creative action, inasmuch as they possess a\ngreater or less perfection in their individual constitution, can be\ncompared with one another according to the relative degree of their\nintrinsic reality; and thus, besides the extrinsic relation just\nmentioned, they have a mutual relativity arising from an intrinsic\nfoundation. The relative degree of reality of a contingent being becomes\nknown to us through the relative intensity of its active power; which\nimplies that the beings compared have powers of the same species. If they\nare not of the same species, the comparison will give no result.\n\n_Remarks._--Before leaving this part of our subject, we have to notice\nthat, as the ubication, so also the act produced by creation, can be\nconsidered both absolutely and respectively. A created act, considered\nabsolutely, is an act intrinsically completed by its essential potency,\nand constitutes the being as it is _in actu secundo_. The same act,\nconsidered respectively, or as ordained to something else, is a power\nready to act, and thus it is _in actu primo_ with regard to all the acts\nwhich it is able to produce.\n\nThe essential act of a contingent being, be it considered absolutely or\nrespectively, bears no proportion to the perfection of its Creator, no\nmore indeed than a point in space to immensity, or a _now_ of time to\neternity. Hence all contingent act or power, whatever be its perfection\nor intensity, as compared with God, is like nothing. It is only when\na created act or power is compared with another of the same kind that\nwe can establish a proportion between them as to degrees of perfection\nand of intensity. These degrees are measured by comparing the relative\nintensities of the effects produced by distinct causes of the same kind,\nacting under the same conditions.\n\nThe quantity of efficient power may be conceived as a virtual sum of\ndegrees of power. In this particular the quantity of power differs\nentirely from the quantity of distance; because this latter cannot be\nconceived as a virtual sum of ubications. The reason of this difference\nis that ubications, as being simple points, have no quantity, and\ntherefore cannot by addition make up a continuous quantity; whereas the\ndegrees of power always possess intensity, and are quantities; hence\ntheir sum is a quantity of the same kind.\n\nIt may be useful to remark that all continuous quantity has a necessary\nconnection with the quantity of power, and that all extension owes its\nbeing to the efficacy of some motive principle. In fact, all intervals,\nwhether of space or of time, are reckoned among continuous quantities\nonly on account of the quantity of continuous movement which can be\nmade, or is actually made, in them, as we have explained in a preceding\narticle; but the quantity of movement is itself to be traced to the\nintensity of the momentum produced by the agent, and the momentum to the\nintensity of the motive power. As soon as movement is communicated to\na point, its ubication begins to shift and to extend a continuous line\nin space; and its _now_, too, for the same reason begins to flow and to\nextend continuous time.\n\nWhen the quantity of power is expressed by a number, its value is\ndetermined, as we have stated, by the intensity of its efficiency in\na given time and fixed conditions. The unit of intensity by which the\namount of the effect produced is measured is arbitrary; for there is\nno natural unit for the degrees of intensity, it being evident that\nsuch degrees can be divided and subdivided without end, just like the\ncontinuum. Hence the numbers by which we express degrees of intensity are\nonly virtually discrete, just as those by which we express continuous\nquantities. The ordinary unit assumed for the measure of intensity is\nthat degree of intensity which causes a unit of weight to measure a unit\nof distance in a unit of time. As all these units are arbitrary, it is\nevident that such is also the unit of intensity.\n\nLet us remark, also, that the power of natural causes has in its action a\ntwofold continuity--that is, with regard both to space and to duration.\nAs long as a natural cause exists, it acts without interruption, owing\nto its intrinsic determination, provided there be, as there is always in\nfact, some subject capable of being acted upon by it. This constitutes\nthe continuity of action with regard to duration. On the other hand,\nthe motive power of such natural causes is exerted, according to the\nNewtonian law, throughout an indefinite sphere, as we have shown in\nanother place;[155] and this constitutes the continuity of action through\nspace. Moreover, if the point acted upon approaches the agent or recedes\nfrom it, the continuous change of distance will be accompanied by a\ncontinuous change of action; and thus the intensity of the act produced\nby the agent will increase or decrease in a continuous manner through\ninfinitesimal degrees corresponding to the infinitesimal changes of local\nrelations occurring in infinitesimal instants of time. This relation of\nchanges is the base of dynamics. But enough on this point.\n\n_Origin of movement._--We may now pass to the conclusions concerning\nmovement as dependent on its proximate cause. The power by which the\nnatural causes produce momentums of movement is called \u201cmotive power.\u201d\nThis power is to be found both in material and in spiritual beings; but\nas in spiritual substances the exercise of the motive power is subject\nto their will, and consists in the application of a nobler power to the\nproduction of a lower effect, we do not and cannot consider the power of\nspiritual beings as merely \u201cmotive,\u201d for it is, above all, intellective\nand volitive. Material things, on the contrary, because they possess\nno other power than that of moving, are characterized by it, and are\nnaturally determined to exercise it according to a law which they cannot\nelude. It is of these beings in particular that the following conclusions\nare to be understood.\n\n1st. There is in all material creatures a motive power--that is, a first\nact of moving--which, considered in its absolute state, has no need of\nextrinsic termination, that is, of producing a momentum of movement.\n\n2d. This motive power is an objective reality.\n\n3d. The same power is nothing accidentally superadded to the being of\nwhich it is the power.\n\n4th. This power is the virtuality, or extrinsic terminability, of the act\nby which the agent is.\n\n5th. This power is not modified by the production of momentums in\nextrinsic terms.\n\n6th. The momentums thus produced are second acts of the motive power,\nextrinsic to it; and though, owing to their intensity, which may be\ngreater or less, they can be related to one another through an intrinsic\nfoundation, yet their entitative distances have only an extrinsic\nfoundation--to wit, the agent\u2019s power.\n\nSome of these propositions are quite evident; but our present object is\nnot only to explain what may require a special discussion, but also,\nand principally, to dissect our subject in such a manner as to make\nit manifest that a perpetual analogy exists between the conditions and\nthe principles of all kinds of continuum, and that in all of them the\ntransition from the absolute to the relative, from the cause to the\neffect, and from the formal reason to its formal result, is made through\na like process and through similar degrees. For this reason we think that\neven those conclusions which seem too obvious to deserve mention become\ninteresting and serve a good purpose; for in the parallel treatment\nof analogous subjects, those things which are clearer throw light on\nthose which are more abstruse, and about which we often feel a certain\nhesitation.\n\nThe first of our present conclusions needs only a short explanation. When\nwe say that in every creature there is a motive power which, _considered\nin its absolute state_, has no need of producing a momentum, we mean that\nin every creature there is an act which is a principle of activity, but\nthat the exercise of this activity is not required for the substantial\nperfection and essential constitution of the creature itself, though\nit may be required for some other reason, as we shall see presently.\nIn fact, every substance has its own complete being independently of\naccidents; and since the exertion of motive power is an accident, every\nsubstance is entitatively independent of it. We conceive that if God had\ncreated nothing but an element of matter, such an element would indeed\n(on its own part) be ready to act and to produce a momentum of movement;\nbut, as there would be no subject capable of receiving a momentum, the\nmotive power would remain _in actu primo_--that is, without actual\nexertion. And yet it is evident that the non-existence of other elements\ncan have no bearing on the intrinsic constitution and substantial\nperfection of the element in the question. Therefore the power of an\nelement of matter is a first act, which, as far as the entity of the\nelement itself is concerned, has no need of producing any second act.\n\nNevertheless, since all creatures must in some manner glorify God\nas long as they exist, because such is the true and highest end of\ntheir existence, hence to every created power some proportionate term\nor subject corresponds, in which its exertion is received without\ninterruption. In the same manner as the understanding never lacks an\nintelligible object, and the sense never lacks a sensible term, about\nwhich to exercise itself by immanent operation, the motive power\nof inferior beings never fails to meet a proportionate--that is,\nmovable--term and to impress upon it a momentum of a certain intensity.\nHence, when we regard, not the substance of natural things as such,\nbut the natural necessity they are under of tending constantly to the\nultimate end of their creation, we see that their first act of moving\nmust always entail some second act, or momentum, in all the terms which\nit can reach according to its natural determination.\n\nThe second conclusion is self-evident; for, if the principle of real\nmovement were not an objective reality, a real effect would proceed from\nan unreal cause--which is absurd. Nor does it matter that the power is\nonly a \u201cfirst\u201d act. For, as we have explained above, it is first as\ncompared with the acts which it can produce, but it is intrinsically\ncomplete in the entity of the agent, as it is terminated to its\nsubstantial term.\n\nThe third conclusion is nothing but a corollary of the well-known axiom\nthat in all things the principle of operation is the substantial act:\n_Forma est id quo agens agit_, and _Principium essendi est principium\noperandi_. We have proved in another place[156] that no natural accident\npossesses active power or is actually concerned in any of the effects\nproduced by the agent. This truth should be well understood by the modern\nscientists who very commonly mistake the conditions of the action for\nthe active principle. Of course no creature can act independently of\naccidental conditions; but these conditions have no bearing on the active\npower itself--they only determine (formally and not efficiently) the\nmode of its application according to a constant law. Thus the distance\nof two material points has no _active_ influence on their motive power\nor on their mutual action, but only constitutes the two points in a\ncertain relation to one another; and when such a relation is altered, the\naction is changed, not because the power is modified, but because its\ndetermination to act--that is, its very nature--demands that it should\nin its application follow the Newtonian law of the inverse ratio of the\nsquared distances.\n\nThe philosophers of the old school admitted, but never proved, that,\nalthough the substantial form is the main principle of activity in\nnatural things, nevertheless this principle was in need of some\naccidental entity, that it might be proximately disposed to produce its\nact. This opinion, too, originated in the confusion of active power\nwith the conditions on which the mode of its exertion depends. What\nthey called \u201cactive qualities\u201d is now acknowledged to be, not a new\nkind of active power superadded to the substantial forms, but merely a\nresult of the concurrence of many simple powers acting under determinate\nconditions. The accidental change of the conditions entails the change\nof the result and action, but the active powers evidently remain the\nsame. The ancients said also that the substantial forms were the active\nprinciples of substantial generations, whereas the \u201cactive qualities\u201d\nwere the active principles of mere alterations. As we have shown that\nthe whole theory of substantial generations, as understood by the\nperipatetic school, is based on assumption and equivocation, and leads to\nimpossibilities,[157] we may be dispensed from giving a new refutation of\nthe opinion last mentioned.\n\nOur fourth conclusion directly follows from the general principle that\nthe act by which a thing has its first being is its principle of action:\n_Quo aliquid primo est, eo agit_. The substantial act, considered as to\nits absolute entity, does not connote action, but simply constitutes the\nbeing of which it is the act. In order to conceive it as an active power,\nwe must refer to the effects which it virtually contains--that is, we\nmust consider its virtuality. In this manner what is a second act with\nregard to the substance of the agent, will be conceived as a first act\nwith reference to the effects it can produce, according to a received\naxiom: _Actus secundus essendi est actus primus operandi_.\n\nThe fifth conclusion, notwithstanding the contrary opinion of many\nphilosophers, is quite certain. For all intrinsic modification is the\nresult of passive reception or passion. Now, to produce a momentum of\nmovement is action, not passion. Therefore, when such a momentum is\nproduced, no other subject is intrinsically modified by it except the one\nwhich passively receives it. It is therefore the being which is acted\non, not that which acts, that acquires an intrinsic modification. The\npower of the agent is not entitatively and intrinsically more actuated\nby action than by non-action. Its action is an extrinsic termination,\nand gives it nothing but the real denomination of agent, by which it is\nreally related to the term acted on. The patient, by its reception of\nthe momentum, becomes similarly related to the agent, as is evident. And\nthe relation consists in this: that the patient acquires formally an\nact which the agent virtually contains. This relation is of accidental\ncausality on the one side and of accidental dependence on the other. The\nfoundation of the relation is the accidental action as coming from the\none and terminating in the other.\n\nAs everything that is in movement must have received the motion from\na distinct agent, according to the principle _Omne quod movetur, ab\nalio movetur_, it follows that whatever is in movement is accidentally\ndependent on an extrinsic mover; and, since all material elements are\nboth movers and moved, they all have a mutual accidental causality and\ndependence.\n\nOur sixth conclusion is sufficiently clear from what has been said\nconcerning the sixth conclusion of the preceding series. The momentum\nof movement is evidently the second act of the motive power--that is,\nthe extrinsic term of its exertion. The entitative distance between two\nmomentums produced by the same mover is an extrinsic relation; for its\nfoundation is the virtuality of the act by which the agent is, as has\nbeen explained above. But the same momentums, as possessing greater or\nless intensity, can also be compared with one another according to their\nintrinsic entity or degree; and thus they will be found to have a mutual\nrelation arising from an intrinsic foundation.\n\n_Remarks._--As the ubication, so also the momentum produced by accidental\naction, can be considered both absolutely and respectively. The momentum,\nconsidered absolutely, is an act received in a subject--an absolute\nmomentum, an extrinsic term of the virtuality of the motive principle;\nand, as such a momentum is only one out of the innumerable acts which\ncan proceed from the agent, it has an entity infinitely less than that\nof the agent. It is evident, in fact, that between a substantial and\nan accidental act there must be an infinite entitative disproportion,\nboth because no substance can be substantially changed by its accidents,\nand because the substantial act can never be exhausted, and not even\nweakened, by the production of accidental acts, as we have established in\nanother place.[158] The momentum is considered respectively when it is\ncompared with another momentum, in which case we can find the relation of\nthe one to the other as to intensity. This intensity is measured by the\nquantity of the movement to which they give rise when not counteracted.\n\nThe unit of intensity is arbitrary in the momentums, as in their\nprinciples, for the same reason--that is, because in neither case a\nnatural unit of intensity can be found. The number expressing the\nrelative intensity of a momentum is only virtually discrete, because\nthe momentum is only virtually compounded, since it is not a number of\ndistinct acts, but one act equivalent to many.\n\n_Movement and its affections._--The production of a momentum entails\nmovement. The general definition of movement, according to Aristotle and\nS. Thomas, is _Actus existentis in potentia ut in potentia_, or, as we\nwould say, an actual passage from one potential state to another. Now,\nall created being is potential in two manners: first, on account of its\npassive receptivity; secondly, on account of its affectibility, which is\na consequence of its passivity, as we have explained in the \u201cPrinciples\nof Real Being.\u201d[159] Hence the momentum of movement, inasmuch as it is\nreceived in the patient, actuates its passive potency; and inasmuch as\nits reception entails a certain mode of being, it affects its resultant\npotentiality. But besides this double potentiality, which is intrinsic to\nthe subject, there is another potentiality which refers to an extrinsic\nterm, and for this reason movement is considered both as it is a\nmodification of its subject, _ratione subjecti_, and as it points at an\nextrinsic term, _ratione termini_.\n\nWith regard to its subject, movement is usually divided into _immanent_\nand _transient_. It is called immanent when it results from immanent\nacts, as when the soul directs its attention to such or such an object\nof thought; and it is called transient when it brings about a change in\na subject distinct from the agent, as when a man moves a stone, or when\nthe sun moves the earth. But this is inaccurate language; for what is\ntransient in these cases is the _action_, not the _movement_.\n\nWith regard to its term, movement is divided into two kinds--that is,\nmovement to a place, _motus ad ubi_, and movement towards a certain\ndegree of perfection or intensity of power, _motus virtutis_.[160] The\nfirst is called _local_ movement, of which we will speak presently. The\nsecond is subdivided into _intension_, _remission_, and _alteration_.\nIntension and remission are the acquisition or loss of some degree of\nperfection or of intensity with regard to power and qualities; alteration\nis the passage from one kind of quality or property to another. Thus, in\nwater, heat is subject to intension and remission; but when the cohesive\nforce of the molecules is superseded by the expansive force of vapor,\nthere is alteration.\n\nIt is important to notice that there is no _motus virtutis_ in primitive\nelements of matter. The exertion of their power varies indeed according\nto the Newtonian law, but the power itself is always exactly the same,\nas its principle is the substantial act, which cannot be modified by\naccidental action. It is only in material compounds that the _motus\nvirtutis_ can be admitted, for the reason that the active powers and\nqualities in them are a result of composition; hence a change in the\nmode of the composition brings about a change in the resultant. So also\nin spiritual substances there is no _motus virtutis_, because their\nactive faculties are always substantially the same. True it is that the\nintellect has also its passivity with regard to intelligible species,\nand that it acts by so much the more easily and perfectly in proportion\nas it is better furnished with intelligible species distinctly expressed\nand arranged according to their logical and objective connection. But\nthis cannot mean that the active power of the intellect can be increased,\nbut only that it can be placed in more suitable conditions for its\noperations. And the like is to be said of all acquired habits; for they\ngive a greater facility of acting, not by intensifying the intrinsic\npower, but by placing the active faculty in such conditions as are more\nfavorable for its operation.\n\nBut let us revert to local movement. This movement may be defined as _the\nact of gliding through successive ubications_. Such a gliding alters the\nrelations of one body to another, as is evident, but it involves no new\nintrinsic modification of the subject. As long as the subject continues\nto move under the same momentum, its intrinsic mode of being remains\nuniformly the same, while its extrinsic relations to other bodies are\nin continual change. Hence the local movement of any point of matter\nmerely consists in the act of extending from ubication to ubication, or,\nas we may say, in _the evolution of the intensity of the momentum into\ncontinuous extension_. The reason of this evolution is that the momentum\nimpressed on a subject has not only a definite intensity, but also a\ndefinite direction in space; whence it follows that the subject which\nreceives the momentum receives a determination to describe a line in a\ndefinite direction, which it must follow, owing to its inertia, with an\nimpetus equal to the intensity of the momentum itself. And in this manner\na material point, by the successive flowing of its ubication, describes a\nline in space, or evolves the intensity of its momentum into extension.\n\nHence, of local movement we can predicate both _intensity_ and\n_extension_. The intensity is the formal principle, which, by actuating\nthe inertia or mobility of the subject, evolves itself into extension.\nThe extension is the actual evolution of the momentum, and constitutes\nthe essence of local movement, which is always _in fieri_. And this\nis what is especially pointed out in Aristotle\u2019s words: _Motus est\nactus existentis in potentia, ut in potentia_. The _actus_ refers to\nthe intensity, which is not _in fieri_, but has a definite actuality;\nwhilst the _in potentia ut in potentia_ clearly refers to the evolution\nof extension, which is continually _in fieri_ under the influx of said\nact. Accordingly, local movement is both intensive and extensive. But\nthis last epithet is to be looked upon as equivalent to \u201cextending,\u201d not\nto \u201cextended\u201d; for it is the line drawn, or the track of the movement\nalready made, that is properly \u201cextended,\u201d whereas the movement itself is\nthe act of extending it.\n\nThe formal intensity of local movement is called _velocity_. We say the\n_formal_ intensity, because movement has also a _material_ intensity.\nThe formal intensity regards the rate of movement of each element of\nmatter taken by itself, and it is greater or less according as it evolves\na greater or a less extension in equal times. The material intensity\nregards the quantity of matter which is moving with a given velocity, and\nis measured by the product of the velocity into the mass of the moving\nbody. This product is called the momentum of the body, or its quantity of\nmovement.\n\nLocal movement is subject to three affections--viz., _intension_,\n_remission_, and _inflexion_. In fact, since local movement consists\nin extending with a certain velocity in a certain direction, it is\nsusceptible of being modified either by a change of velocity, which\nwill intensify or weaken it, or by a change of direction--that is, by\ninflexion. So long, however, as no agent disturbs the actual movement\nalready imparted to a body, the movement must necessarily continue in\nthe same direction and with the same velocity; for matter, owing to its\ninertia, cannot modify its own state. This amounts to saying that the\ntendency uniformly to preserve its rate and its direction is not an\naccidental affection, but the very nature, of local movement.\n\nThis being premised, we are going to establish a series of conclusions,\nconcerning movement and its affections, parallel to that which we have\ndeveloped in the preceding pages respecting power and its exertions. The\nreader will see that the chain of our analogies must here end; for, since\nmovement is not action, it affects nothing new, and produces no extrinsic\nterms, but only entails changes of local relations. On the other hand,\nthe affections of local movement are not of a transient, but of an\nimmanent, character, and thus they give rise to no new entity, but are\nthemselves identified with the movement of which they are the modes. Our\nconclusions are the following:\n\n1st. There is in all local movement something permanent--that is, a\ngeneral determination of a lasting character, which has no need of being\nindividuated in one manner more than in another.\n\n2d. This constant determination is an objective reality.\n\n3d. This same determination is nothing accidentally superadded to local\nmovement.\n\n4th. This determination is the virtuality of the momentum of movement, or\nthe act of evolving extension in a definite direction.\n\n5th. This determination is not intrinsically modified by any accidental\nmodification of local movement.\n\n6th. The affections of local movement are intrinsic and intransitive\nmodes, which identify themselves with the movement which they modify.\n\nThe first of these conclusions is briefly proved thus: whatever is a\nsubject of real modifications has something permanent. Local movement\nis a subject of real modifications. Therefore, local movement involves\nsomething permanent.\n\nThe second conclusion is self-evident.\n\nThe third conclusion, too, is evident. For whatever is accidentally\nsuperadded to a thing can be accidentally taken away, and therefore\ncannot belong to the thing permanently and invariably. Hence the constant\nand fixed determination in question cannot be an accident of local\nmovement.\n\nThe fourth conclusion is a corollary of the third. For nothing is\nnecessarily permanent in local movement, except that which constitutes\nits essence. Now, its essence lies in this: that it must evolve\nextension at the rate and in the direction determined by the momentum\nof which it is the exponent. Therefore the permanent determination of\nwhich we are speaking is nothing else than the virtuality of the momentum\nitself as developing into extension. And since the momentum by which the\nmoving body is animated has a determinate intensity and direction, which\nvirtually contains a determinate velocity and direction of movement,\nit follows that the permanent determination in question consists in\nthe actual tendency of movement to evolve uniformly and in a straight\nline--_uniformly_, because velocity is the form of movement, and the\nvelocity determined by the intensity of the actual momentum is actually\none; _in a straight line_, because the actual momentum being one, it\ngives but one direction to the movement, which therefore will be straight\nin its tendency. Whence we conclude that it is of the essence of local\nmovement to have _an actual tendency to evolve uniformly in a straight\nline_.\n\nSome will object that local movement may lack both uniformity and\nstraightness. This is quite true, but it does not destroy our conclusion.\nFor, as movement is always _in fieri_, and exists only by infinitesimal\ninstants in which it is impossible to admit more than one velocity and\none direction, it remains always true that within every instant of its\nexistence the movement is straight and uniform, and that in every such\ninstant it tends to continue in the same direction and at the same\nrate--that is, with the velocity and direction it actually possesses.\nThis velocity and direction may, of course, be modified in the following\ninstant; but in the following instant, too, the movement will tend to\nevolve uniformly and in a straight line suitably to its new velocity\nand direction. Whence it is manifest that, although in the continuation\nof the movement there may be a series of different velocities and\ndirections, yet the tendency of the movement is, at every instant of its\nexistence, to extend uniformly in a straight line. This truth is the\nfoundation of dynamics.\n\nOur fifth conclusion is sufficiently evident from what we have just\nsaid. For, whatever be the intensity and direction of the movement, its\ndetermination to extend uniformly in a straight line is not interfered\nwith.\n\nOur last conclusion has no need of explanation. For, since the affections\nof local movement are the result of new momentums impressed on the\nsubject it is plain that they are intrinsic modes characterizing a\nmovement individually different from the movement that preceded. The\ntendency to evolve uniformly in a straight line remains unimpaired,\nas we have shown; but the movement itself becomes entitatively--viz.,\nquantitatively--different.\n\n_Remarks._--Local movement is divided into _uniform_ and _varied_.\nUniform movement we call that which has a constant velocity. For, as\nvelocity is the form of movement, to say that a movement is uniform is\nto say that it has but one velocity in the whole of its extension. We\nusually call \u201cuniform\u201d all movement whose apparent velocity is constant;\nbut, to say the truth, no rigorously uniform movement exists in nature\nfor any appreciable length of time. In fact, every element of matter lies\nwithin the sphere of action of all other elements, and is continually\nacted on, and continually receives new momentums; the evident consequence\nof which is that its real movement must undergo a continuous change of\nvelocity. Hence rigorously uniform movement is limited to infinitesimal\ntime.\n\nVaried movement is that whose rate is continually changing. It is divided\ninto _accelerated_ and _retarded_; and, when the acceleration or the\nretardation arises from a constant action which in equal times imparts\nequal momentums, the movement is said to be _uniformly_ accelerated or\nretarded.\n\n_Epilogue._--The explanation we have given of space, duration, and\nmovement suffices, if we are not mistaken, to show what is the true\nnature of the only continuous quantities which can be found in the\nreal order of things. The reader will have seen that the source of all\ncontinuity is motive power and its exertion. It is such an exertion\nthat engenders local movement, and causes it to be continuous in its\nentity, in its local extension, and in its duration. In fact, why is the\nlocal movement continuous _in its entity_? Because the motive action\nstrengthens or weakens it by continuous infinitesimal degrees in each\nsuccessive infinitesimal instant, thus causing it to pass through all\nthe degrees of intensity designable between its initial and its final\nvelocity. And again: why is the local movement continuous _in its local\nextension_? Because it is the property of an action which proceeds from\na point in space and is terminated to another point in space, to give a\nlocal direction to the subject in which the momentum is received; whence\nit follows that the subject under the influence of such a momentum must\ndraw a continuous line in space. Finally, why is the local movement\ncontinuous _in its duration_? Because, owing to the continuous change of\nits ubication, the subject of the movement extends its absolute _when_\nfrom _before_ to _after_, in a continuous succession, which is nothing\nbut the duration of the movement.\n\nHence absolute space and absolute duration, which are altogether\nindependent of motive actions, are not _formally_ continuous, but only\nsupply the extrinsic reason of the possibility of formal continuums.\nIt is matter in movement that by the flowing of its _ubi_ from _here_\nto _there_ actually marks out a continuous line in space, and by the\nflowing of its _quando_ from _before_ to _after_ marks out a continuous\nline in duration. Thus it is not absolute space, but the line drawn in\nspace, that is _formally_ extended from _here_ to _there_; and it is not\nabsolute duration, but the line successively drawn in duration, that is\n_formally_ extended from _before_ to _after_.\n\nWith regard to the difficulties which philosophers have raised at\ndifferent times against local movement we have very little to say. An\nancient philosopher, when called to answer some arguments against the\npossibility of movement, thought it sufficient to reply: _Solvitur\nambulando_--\u201cI walk; therefore movement is possible.\u201d This answer was\nexcellent; but, while showing the inanity of the objections, it took no\nnotice of the fallacies by which they were supported. We might follow the\nsame course; for the arguments advanced against movement are by no means\nformidable. Yet we will mention and solve three of them before dismissing\nthe subject.\n\n_First._ If a body moves, it moves where it is, not where it is not. But\nit cannot move where it is; for to move implies not to remain where it\nis, and therefore bodies cannot move. The answer is, that bodies neither\nmove where they are nor where they are not, but _from_ the place where\nthey are _to_ the place where they are not.\n\n_Second._ A material element cannot describe a line in space between\ntwo points without gliding through all the intermediate ubications.\nBut the intermediate ubications are infinite, as infinite points can\nbe designated in any line; and the infinite cannot be passed over. The\nanswer is that an infinite multitude cannot be measured by one of its\nunits; and for this reason the infinite multitude of ubications which may\nbe designated between the terms of a line cannot be measured by a unit\nof the same kind. Nevertheless, a line can be measured by movement--that\nis, not by the ubication itself, but _by the flowing_ of an ubication;\nbecause the flowing of the ubication is continuous, and involves\ncontinuous quantity; and therefore it is to be considered as containing\nin itself its own measure, which is a measure of length, and which may\nserve to measure the whole line of movement. If the length of a line\nwere an infinite sum of ubications--that is, of mathematical points--the\nobjection would have some weight; but the length of the line is evidently\nnot a sum of points. The line is a continuous quantity evolved by the\nflowing of a point. It can therefore be measured by the flowing of a\npoint. For as the line described can be divided and subdivided without\nend, so also the time employed in describing it can be divided and\nsubdivided without end. Hence the length of a line described in a finite\nlength of time can be conceived as an infinite virtual multitude of\ninfinitesimal lengths, just in the same manner as the time employed in\ndescribing it can be conceived as an infinite multitude of infinitesimal\ninstants. Now, the infinite can measure the infinite; and therefore it\nis manifest that an infinite multitude of infinitesimal lengths can be\nmeasured by the flowing of a point through an infinite multitude of\ninfinitesimal instants.[161]\n\n_Third._ The communication of movement, as we know by experience,\nrequires time; and yet time arises from movement, and cannot begin before\nthe movement is communicated. How, then, will movement be communicated?\nThe answer is that time and movement begin together, and evolve\nsimultaneously in the very act of the communication of movement. It is\nnot true, then, that all communication of movement requires time. Our\nexperience regards only the communication of _finite_ movement, which,\nof course, cannot be made except the action of the agent continue for a\nfinite time. But movement is always communicated by infinitesimal degrees\nin infinitesimal instants; and thus the beginning of the motive action\ncoincides with the beginning of the movement, and this coincides with the\nbeginning of its duration.\n\nAnd here we end. The considerations which we have developed in our\narticles on space, duration, and movement have, we think, a sufficient\nimportance to be regarded with interest by those who have a philosophical\nturn of mind. The subjects which we have endeavored so far to investigate\nare scarcely ever examined as deeply as they deserve by the modern\nwriters of philosophical treatises; but there is no doubt that a clearer\nknowledge of those subjects must enable us to extricate ourselves\nfrom many difficulties to be met in other parts of metaphysics. It is\nprincipally in order to solve the sophisms of the idealists and of the\ntranscendental pantheists that we need an exact, intellectual notion of\nspace and of time. We see how Kant, the father of German idealism and\npantheism, was led into numerous errors by his misconception of these two\npoints, and how his followers, owing to a like hallucination, succeeded\nin obscuring the light of their noble intellects, and were prompted to\ndeny and revile the most certain and fundamental principles of human\nreasoning. In fact, a mistaken notion of space lies at the bottom of\nnearly all their philosophical blunders. If we desire to refute their\nfalse theories by direct and categorical arguments, we must know how far\nwe can trust the popular language on space, and how we can correct its\ninaccuracies so as to give precision to our own phraseology, lest by\nconceding or denying more than truth demands we furnish them with the\nmeans of retorting against our argumentation. This is the main reason\nthat induced us to treat of space, duration, and movement in a special\nseries of articles, as we entertained the hope that we might thus help in\ncutting the ground from under the feet of the pantheist by uprooting the\nvery germ of his manifold errors.\n\n\nNOT YET.\n\n    Methought the King of Terrors came my way:\n      Whom all men flee, and none esteem it base.\n    But lo! his smile forbidding me dismay,\n      I stood--and dared to look him in the face.\n    \u201cSo soon!\u201d the only murmur in my heart:\n      For I had shaped the deeds of many years--\n    Ambitioning atonement, and, in part,\n      To reap in joy what I had sown in tears.\n    Then, turning to Our Lady: \u201cO my Queen!\n      \u2019Twere very sweet already to have won\n    My crown, and pass to see as I am seen,\n      And nevermore offend thy Blessed Son:\n    Yet would I stay--and for myself, I own:--\n    To stand, at last, the nearer to thy throne.\u201d\n\n\nSONGS OF THE PEOPLE.\n\nWithout going back to abstruse speculations on the origin of music in\nEngland (there is a mania in our century for discovering the \u201corigin\u201d\nof everything, and theorizing on it, long before a sufficient number of\nfacts has been collected even to make a pedestal for the most modest and\nlimited theory), we gather from the mention of it in old English poems,\nand books on ballads and songs, glees and catches, that it existed in a\nvery creditable form at least eight hundred years ago. Indeed, there was\nnational and popular music before this, and the Welsh songs, the oldest\nof all, point far back to a legendary past as the source of their being.\nThe first foreign song that mingled with the rude music of the early\nBritons was doubtless that of the Christian missionaries in the first\ncentury of our era, and after that there can have been little music among\nthe converted Britons but what was more or less tinged with a foreign\nand Christian element. We know, too, that at various times foreign monks\neither came or were invited to the different kingdoms in England to\nteach the natives the ecclesiastical chant. Gardiner, in his _Music of\nNature_, says that \u201cas the invaders came from all parts of the Continent,\nour language and music became a motley collection of sounds and words\nunlike that of any other people; and though we have gained a language of\ngreat force and extent, yet we have lost our primitive music, as not a\nsingle song remains that has the character of being national.\u201d He also\nsays that before music was cultivated as an art, England, in common with\nother countries, had its national songs, but that these, with the people\nwho sang them, were driven by the conquerors into Ireland, Scotland,\nand Wales. This assertion is rather a sweeping one, and the recognized\nformula about the ancient inhabitants of Britain being _all_ crowded\ninto certain particular districts is one that will bear modifying and\ncorrecting. The British Anthropological Society has, during the last ten\nyears, made interesting researches in the field of race-characteristics\nin different parts of England, and an accumulation of facts has gone far\nto prove the permanence of some Gaelic, Cymric, and Celtic types in other\nparts, exclusive of Wales and Cornwall. Dr. Beddoe and Mr. Mackintosh\nhave published the result of their observations, and the latter concludes\nthat \u201ca considerable portion of the west Midland and southwestern\ncounties are scarcely distinguishable from three of the types found in\nWales--namely, the British, Gaelic, and Cymrian. In Shropshire, and\nramifying to the east and southeast, the Cymrian type may be found in\ngreat numbers, though not predominating.\u2026 In many parts of the southwest\nthe prevailing type among the working classes is decidedly Gaelic.\u2026 North\nDevon and Dorset may be regarded as its headquarters in South Britain.\u201d\nThen, again, the district along the borders of Wales, especially between\nTaunton and Oswestry, and as far east as Bath, shows a population more\nnaturally intellectual than that of any other part of England, and that\nwithout any superiority of primary education to account for it. The\npeople are what might be called Anglicized Welsh, and there is among\nthem a greater taste for solid knowledge than in the heart of England.\nLancashire is to a great extent Scandinavian, and also somewhat Cymrian,\nas we have seen, and there the people are known as a shrewd, hardy race,\nthoughtful and fond of study, and great adepts in music.\n\nAt a large school in Tiverton, Devonshire, nine-tenths of the boys\npresented the most exaggerated Gaelic physiognomy; while at another, near\nChichester, the girls were all of the most unmistakable Saxon type. We\nneed not go further in this classification, and only introduced it to\nshow that massing together all British types in Wales and Cornwall is a\nfallacy, such as all hasty generalizations are. It is not so certain,\ntherefore, that there exists no indigenous element in the old songs that\nhave survived, though in many an altered form, in some of the rural\ndistricts of England. Then, again, how is the word \u201cnational\u201d used--in\nthe sense of indigenous, or of popular, or of exclusively belonging to\none given country? English music was, before the Commonwealth, at least\nas indigenous as the English language, as that gradually grew up and\nwelded itself together. As to popularity, there was a style of song--some\nspecimens of which we shall give--which was known and used by the\npoorest and humblest, and a style, too, far removed from the plebeian,\nthough it may have been rather sentimental. Then glees and catches are,\nthough of no very great antiquity, essentially English, and are scarcely\nknown in any other country. If \u201cnational\u201d stands for \u201cpolitical,\u201d as many\npeople at this day seem to take for granted, then, indeed, England has\nnot much to boast of. That music is born rather of oppression and defeat,\nand loves to commemorate a people\u2019s undying devotion to their own race,\nlaws, customs, and rulers. Irish and Welsh and Jacobite songs exhibit\nthat style best, though only the first of the three have any present\nsignificance, the two other kinds having long ago become more valuable\nfor their intrinsic or historical merit than for their political meaning.\nCertain modern English songs, such as \u201cYe Mariners of England,\u201d \u201cRule\nBritannia,\u201d \u201cThe Death of Nelson,\u201d might be called national songs in the\npolitical sense; but \u201cGod Save the King,\u201d though patriotic and loyal, is\nthoroughly German in style and composition, and therefore hardly deserves\nthe title national.\n\nThe Welsh have kept their musical taste pure. Mr. Mackintosh, in his\npaper on the _Comparative Anthropology of England and Wales_, says of\nthe quiet and thoughtful villagers of Glan Ogwen, near the great Penrhyn\nslate quarries, that \u201ctheir appreciation of the compositions of Handel\nand other great musicians is remarkable; and they perform the most\ndifficult oratorios with a precision of time and intonation unknown in\nany part of England, except the West Riding of Yorkshire, Lancashire,\nWorcester, Gloucester, and Hereford.\u201d The three latter are towns where\nthe musical festivals are so frequent that the taste of the people\ncannot help being educated up to a good standard. Hereford, too, is\nvery near the Welsh border. \u201cThe musical ear of the Welsh is extremely\naccurate. I was once present in a village church belonging to the late\nDean of Bangor, when the choir sang an anthem composed by their leader,\nand repeated an unaccompanied hymn-tune five or six times without the\nslightest lowering of pitch. The works of Handel, Haydn, Beethoven, and\nMozart are republished with Welsh words at Ruthin and several other\ntowns, and their circulation is almost incredible. At book and music\nshops of a rank where in England negro melodies would form the staple\ncompositions, Handel is the great favorite; and such tunes as \u2018Pop goes\nthe Weasel\u2019 would not be tolerated. The native airs are in general very\nelegant and melodious. Some of them, composed long before Handel, are in\nthe Handelian style; others are remarkably similar to some of Corelli\u2019s\ncompositions. The less classical Welsh airs, in 3-8 time, such as \u2018Jenny\nJones\u2019 are well known. Those in 2-4 time are often characterized by a\nsudden stop in the middle or at the close of a measure, and a repetition\nof pathetic slides or slurs.\u201d\n\nMuch of this eulogium might be equally applied to the people of\nLancashire, especially the men, who know the great oratorios by heart,\nand sing the choruses faultlessly among themselves, not only at large\ngatherings, but in casual reunions, whenever three or four happen to\nmeet. Their part-singing, too, in glees, both ancient and modern, is\nadmirable, and they have scarcely any taste for the low songs which are\nonly too popular in many parts of England.\n\nThe songs of chivalry were another graft on the stock of English music,\nand the honor paid to the bards and minstrels was a mingling of the love\nof a national institution at least as old as the Druids--some say much\nolder--and of the enthusiasm produced by the metrical relation of heroic\nfeats of arms. The Crusades gave a great impulse to the troubadours\u2019\nsongs, while the ancient British custom of commemorating the national\nhistory by the oral tradition and the music of the harpers, seemed to\nmerge into and strengthen the new order of minstrels. Long before the\nbagpipe became the peculiar--almost national--instrument of Scotland,\nthe harp held that position, as it has not yet ceased to do, in Ireland\nand Wales. The oldest harp now in Great Britain is an Irish one, which\nwas already old in 1064. It is now in the museum of Trinity College,\nDublin. These ancient instruments were very different from the modern\nones on which our grandmothers used to display their skill before the\npianoforte became, to its detriment, the fashionable instrument for young\nladies; and even now the Irish and Welsh harps are made exactly on the\nold models, and have no pedals. But the use of the harp was not confined\nto the Welsh, and in the reign of King John, in the XIIth century, on\nthe occasion of an attack made on the old town of Chester by the Welsh\nduring the great yearly fair, it is recorded in the town annals that the\ncommandant assembled all the minstrels who had come to the place upon\nthat occasion, and marched them in the night, with their instruments\nplaying, against the enemy, who, upon hearing so vast a sound, were\nfilled with such terror and surprise that they instantly fled. In memory\nof this famous exploit, no doubt suggested by the Biblical narrative of\nGideon\u2019s successful stratagem, a meeting of minstrels is annually kept up\nto this day, with one of the Dutton family at their head, to whom certain\nprivileges are granted. In the reign of Henry I. the minstrels were\nformed into corporate bodies, and enjoyed certain immunities in various\nparts of the kingdom. Gardiner[162] says that \u201cthe most accomplished\nbecame the companions and favorites of kings, and attended the court\nin all its expeditions.\u201d Perhaps we may refer the still extant office\nof poet-laureate to this custom of retaining a court minstrel near the\nperson of the sovereign. In the time of Elizabeth the profession of\na harper had become a degraded one, only embraced by idle, low, and\ndissolute characters; and so it has remained ever since, through the\nvarious stages of ballad-monger, street-singer and fiddler, in which the\nmemory of the once noble office has been merged or lost. In Scotland the\npiper, a personage of importance, has taken the place of the harper since\nthe time of Mary, Queen of Scots, who introduced the pipes from France;\nbut in Wales the minstrel, with his harp, upheld his respectability much\nlonger, and even now most of the old families, jealous and proud of their\nnational customs, retain their bard as an officer of the household. The\nwriter has seen and heard one of these ancient minstrels, in the service\nof a family living near Llanarth, the mistress (a widow) making it her\nspecial business to promote the keeping up of all old national customs.\nShe was an excellent farmer, too, and had a pet breed of small black\nWelsh sheep, whose wool she prepared for the loom herself, and with which\nshe clothed her family and household. In the neighboring town she had got\nup an annual competition of harpers and choirs for the performance of\nWelsh music exclusively. The concert was always the occasion of a regular\ncountry festivity, ending with a ball, and medals and other prizes were\ngiven by her own hand to the best instrumental and vocal artists.\n\nIn Percy\u2019s _Reliques_ a description is given of the dress and appearance\nof a medi\u00e6val bard, as personated at a pageant given at Kenilworth in\nhonor of Queen Elizabeth. The glory of the brotherhood was already so\nmuch a thing of the past that it was thought worth while to introduce\nthis figure into a mock procession. This very circumstance is enough\nto mark the decline of the art in those days, but already a new sort\nof popular song had sprung up to replace the romances of chivalry. \u201cA\nperson,\u201d says Percy, \u201cvery meet for the purpose, \u2026 his cap off; his head\nseemly rounded tonsure-wise, fair-kembed [combed], that with a sponge\ndaintily dipt in a little capon\u2019s grease was finely smoothed, to make it\nshine like a mallard\u2019s wing. His beard smugly shaven; and yet his shirt,\nafter the new trink, with ruffs fair starched, sleeked and glittering\nlike a pair of new shoes; marshalled in good order with a setting stick\nand strut, that every ruff stood up like a wafer.[163] A long gown of\nKendal-green gathered at the neck with a narrow gorget, fastened afore\nwith a white clasp and a keeper close up to the chin, but easily, for\nheat, to undo when he list. Seemly begirt in a red caddis girdle; from\nthat a pair of capped Sheffield knives hanging at two sides. Out of his\nbosom was drawn forth a lappet of his napkin [handkerchief] edged with a\nblue lace, and marked with a true-love, a heart, and _D_ for Damain; for\nhe was but a bachelor yet. His gown had long sleeves down to mid-leg,\nlined with white cotton. His doublet-sleeves of black worsted; upon them\na pair of poynets [wristlets, from _poignet_] of tawny chamlet, laced\nalong the wrist with blue threaden points; a wealt towards the hand of\nfustian-a-napes. A pair of red neather stocks, a pair of pumps [shoes] on\nhis feet, with a cross cut at the toes for corns; not new, indeed, yet\ncleanly blackt with soot, and shining as a shoeing-horn. About his neck\na red riband suitable to his girdle. His harp in good grace dependent\nbefore him. His wrest [tuning-key] tyed to a green lace, and hanging\nby. Under the gorget of his gown, a fair chain of silver as a squire\nminstrel of Middlesex, that travelled the country this summer season,\nunto fairs and worshipful men\u2019s houses. From his chain hung a scutcheon,\nwith metal and color, resplendent upon his breast, of the ancient arms of\nIslington.\u201d The peculiarities marking his shoes no doubt referred to the\nlong pedestrian tours of the early minstrels.\n\nChaucer, in the XIVth century, makes frequent mention of music, both\nvocal and instrumental. Of his twenty-nine Canterbury Pilgrims, six could\neither play or sing, and two, the Squire and the Mendicant Friar, could\ndo both. Of the Prioress he quaintly says:\n\n    \u201cFul wel she sang\u00e9 the service devine,\n    Entun\u00e9d in hire nose ful swet\u00e9ly.\u201d\n\nDr. Burney thinks that part-singing was already known and practised in\nChaucer\u2019s time, and draws this inference from the notice the poet takes\nin his \u201cDream\u201d of the singing of birds:\n\n    \u201c\u2026 for some of them songe lowe\n    Some high, and all of one accorde\u201d;\n\nand it is certain that this kind of music was a great favorite with the\nEnglish people at a very early period, and was indebted to them for many\nimprovements. The same writer says that the English, in their secular\nmusic and in part-singing, rather preceded than followed the European\nnations, and that, though he could find no music in parts, except church\nmusic, in foreign countries before the middle of the XVIth century, yet\nin England he found Masses in four, five, and six parts, as well as\nsecular songs in the vulgar tongue in two or three parts, in the XVth and\nearly part of the XVIth centuries. Ritson, it is true, in his _Ancient\nSongs from the Time of King Henry III. to the Revolution_, disputes\nthis, but Hawkins is of the same opinion as Burney. Mr. Stafford Smith,\nat the end of the last century, made a collection of old English songs\nwritten in score for three or four voices; but though the oldest music\nto such songs is scarcely intelligible, the number collected proves how\npopular that sort of music was in early times. (Perhaps the illegibility\nof the music is due to the old notation, in use before the perfected\nstave of four lines became general--the pneumatic notation, supposed by\nCoussemaker, Schubiger, Ambros, and other writers on music to have been\ndeveloped out of the system of accents of speech represented by signs,\nsuch as are still used in French.)\n\nLandini, an Italian writer of the XVth century, in his _Commentary\non Dante_, speaks of \u201cmany most excellent musicians\u201d as coming from\nEngland to Italy to hear and study under Antonio _degli organi_ (a name\ndenoting his profession); while another writer, the choir-master of the\nroyal chapel of Ferdinand, King of Naples, mentions the excellence of\nthe English vocal music in parts, and even (incorrectly) calls John of\nDunstable (a musician of the middle of the XVth century) the \u201cinventor of\ncounterpoint.\u201d\n\nOne of the oldest compositions of this kind is a manuscript score in the\nBritish Museum, a canon in unison for four voices, with the addition\nof two more voices for the _pes_, as it is called, which is a kind of\nground, and is the basis of the harmony. The words, partially modernized,\nare as follows (they are much older than the music, which is only four\nhundred years old):\n\n    \u201cSummer is a-coming in,\n    Loud sing cuckoo;\n    Groweth seed\n    And bloweth mead,\n    And springeth the weed new.\n    Ewe bleateth after lamb;\n    Loweth after calf, cow;\n    Bullock sterteth [leaps],\n    Buck\u00e8 verteth [frequents green places],\n    Merry sing cuckoo;\n    Nor cease thou ever now.\u201d\n\nDr. Burney says of this song that the modulation is monotonous, but\nthat the chief merit lies in \u201cthe airy, pastoral correspondence of the\nmelody with the words\u201d--a merit which many modern compositions of the\n\u201cpopular\u201d type are very far from possessing. Under the Tudors music made\nrapid strides. Dr. Robert Fairfax was well known as a composer in those\ndays, and a collection of old English songs with their music (often in\nparts), made by him, has been preserved to this day. Besides himself,\nsuch writers as Cornyshe, Syr Thomas Phelyppes, Davy, Brown, Banister,\nTudor, Turges, Sheryngham, and William of Newark are represented. Of\nthese, Cornyshe was the best, and Purcell, two hundred years later,\nimitated much of his rondeau style, most of these composers being\nentirely secular. Henry VIII. himself wrote music for two Masses, and\nhad them sung in his chapel; and to be able to take a part in madrigals,\nand sing at sight in any piece of concerted music, was reckoned a part\nof a gentleman\u2019s education in those days. The invention of printing gave\na great impulse to song-writing and composing, though for some time\nafter the words were printed the music was probably still copied by hand\nover the words; for the printing of notes was of course a further and\nsubsequent development of the new art. A musician and poet of the name\nof Gray became a favorite of Henry VIII. and of the Protector Somerset\n\u201cfor making certain merry ballades, whereof one chiefly was \u2018The hunt is\nup--the hunt is up.\u2019\u201d[164]\n\n\u201cA popular species of harmony,\u201d says Ritson, \u201carose in this reign; it was\ncalled \u2018King Henry\u2019s Mirth,\u2019 or \u2018Freemen\u2019s Songs,\u2019 that monarch being\na great admirer of vocal music. \u2018Freemen\u2019s Songs\u2019 is a corruption of\n\u2018Three-men\u2019s Songs,\u2019 from their being generally for three voices.\u201d Very\nfew songs were written for one voice.\n\nBallads were very popular, and formed one of the great attractions at\nfairs. An old pamphlet, published in the reign of Elizabeth, mentions\nwith astonishment that \u201cOut-roaring Dick and Wat Winbars\u201d got twenty\nshillings a day by singing at Braintree Fair, in Essex. It does seem\na good deal, considering that the sum was equal to five pounds of\nthe present money, which again is equivalent to about thirty dollars\ncurrency. These wandering singers, the lowly successors of the proud\nminstrels, were in their way quite as successful; but, what is more\nwonderful, their songs were for the most part neither coarse nor vulgar.\nGood poets wrote for music in those days; _now_, as a general rule, it\nis only rhymers who avowedly write that their words may be set to music.\nAs quack-doctors, fortune-tellers, pedlers, etc., mounted benches and\nbarrel-heads to harangue the people, and thus gained the now ill-sounding\nname of mountebanks, so too did these singers call over their songs and\nsing those chosen by their audience; and they are frequently called\nby the writers of those times _cantabanchi_, an Italian compound of\n_cantare_ (to sing) and _banchi_ (benches). Among the headings given of\nthese popular songs are the following: \u201cThe Three Ravens: a dirge\u201d; \u201cBy\na bank as I lay\u201d; \u201cSo woe is me, begone\u201d; \u201cThree merry men we be\u201d; \u201cBut\nnow he is dead and gone\u201d; \u201cNow, Robin, lend me thy Bow\u201d; \u201cBonny Lass\nupon a green\u201d; \u201cHe is dead and gone, Lady,\u201d etc. There is a quaint grace\nand sadness about the titles which speaks well for the manners of those\nwho listened and applauded. Popular taste has certainly degenerated in\nmany parts of England; for such titles _now_ would only provoke a sneer\namong an average London or Midland county audience of the lower classes.\nGardiner says: \u201cThe most ancient of our English songs are of a grave\ncast, and commonly written in the key of G minor.\u201d\n\nAmong the composers of the reigns of Elizabeth and James I. was Birde,\nwho wrote a still popular canon on the Latin words \u201cNon nobis, Domine,\u201d\nand set to music the celebrated song ascribed to Sir Edward Dyer, a\nfriend of Sir Philip Sidney, \u201cMy Mind to me a Kingdom is.\u201d\n\nBirde\u2019s scholar, Morley, produced a great number of canzonets, or short\nsongs for three or more voices; and Ford, who was an original genius,\npublished some pieces for four voices, with an accompaniment for lutes\nand viols, besides other pieces, especially catches of an humorous\ncharacter. George Kirbye was another canzonet composer, and Thomas\nWeelkes has been immortalized by the good-fortune which threw him in\nShakspere\u2019s way, so that the latter often wrote words for his music.\nYet doubtless the fame of the one, as that of the other, was chiefly\nposthumous; and poet and musician, on a par in those days, may have\nstarved in company, unknowing that a MS. of theirs would fetch its weight\nin gold a hundred years after they were in their graves.\n\n\u201cThe musical reputation of England,\u201d says a writer in an old review of\n1834, \u201cmust mainly rest on the songs in parts of the period between 1560\nand 1625.\u201d And Gardiner says: \u201cIf we can set up any claim to originality,\nit is in our glees and anthems.\u201d The gleemen, who were at first a class\nof the minstrels, are supposed to have been the first who performed vocal\nmusic in parts, according to set rules and by notes, though the custom\nmust have existed long before it was thus technically sanctioned. The\nearliest pieces of the kind _upon record_ are by the madrigal writers,\nand were, perhaps, founded upon the taste of the Italian school; but\nthere soon grew up a distinction sufficient to mark English glee-music\nas a separate species of the art. It is said that glee-singing did not\nbecome generally popular till about the year 1770, when glees formed\na prominent part of the private concerts of the nobility; but their\nbeing adopted into fashionable circles only at that date is scarcely\na proof of their late origin. The canzonets for three or four voices\nmust have been closely allied to glees, and a family likeness existed\nbetween these and the madrigals for four or five voices, the ballets, or\nfa-las, for five, and the songs for six and seven parts, which are so\nprodigally mentioned in a list of works by Morley within the short space\nof only four years--1593 to 1597. The number of these songs proves their\nwonderful popularity, and we incline to think, with the writer we have\nquoted, that the English, in the catches and glees, the works of the\ncomposers of the days of Elizabeth and James I., and those of Purcell,\nTallis, Croft, Bull, Blow, Boyce, etc., at a later period, possess a\nmusic essentially national and original--not imitative, as is the modern\nEnglish school, and not more indebted to foreign sources than any other\nprogressive and liberal art is to the lessons given it by its practisers\nin other civilized communities. For if _national_ is to mean isolated\nand petrified, by all means let us forswear nationalism.\n\nShakspere\u2019s songs are scattered throughout his works, and were evidently\nwritten for music. Both old and new composers have set them to music,\nand of the latter none so happily as Bishop Weelkes and John Dowland,\nhis contemporaries and friends; the latter, the composer of Shakspere\u2019s\nfavorite song (not his own), \u201cAwake, sweet Love,\u201d often wrote music\nfor his words. In his plays Shakspere has introduced many fragments of\n_old_ songs and ballads; but Ritson says of him: \u201cThis admirable writer\ncomposed the most beautiful and excellent songs, which no one, so far as\nwe know, can be said to have done before him, nor has any one excelled\nhim since.\u201d This statement is qualified by an exception in favor of\nMarlowe, a predecessor of Shakspere, and the author of the \u201cPassionate\nShepherd to his Love\u201d; and besides, it means that he was the first great\npoet among the song-writers, who, in comparison with him, might be called\nmere ballad-mongers. Shakspere\u2019s love for the old, simple, touching music\nof his native land, shown on many occasions throughout his works, is most\nexquisitely expressed in the following passage from _Twelfth Night_:\n\n    \u201cNow, good Cesario, but that piece of song,\n    That old and antique song we had last night:\n    Methought it did relieve my passion much,\n    More than light airs and recollected terms\n    Of these most brisk and giddy-paced times.\n    \u2026\n    O fellow, come, the song we had last night.\n    Mark it, Cesario, it is old and plain;\n    The spinsters and the knitters in the sun,\n    And the free maids that weave their thread with bones,[165]\n    Do use to chant it; it is silly sooth,\n    And dallies with the innocence of love,\n    Like the old age.\u201d\n\nThough Shakspere\u2019s plays were marked with the coarseness of speech\ncommon in his time, and therefore not, as some have thought, chargeable\nto him in particular, his songs, on the contrary, are of singular\ndaintiness. They are too well known to be quoted here, but they breathe\nthe very spirit of music, being evidently intended to be sung and\npopularly known. The chorus, or rather refrain, of one, beginning, \u201cBlow,\nblow, thou winter wind,\u201d runs thus:\n\n    \u201cHeigh ho! sing heigh ho! unto the green holly;\n    Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly.\n              Then heigh ho! the holly!\n              This life is most jolly!\u201d\n\nThe \u201cSerenade to Sylvia\u201d is lovely, chaste and delicate in speech as it\nis playful in form; and the fairy song \u201cOver hill, over dale,\u201d is like\nthe song of a chorus of animated flowers. The description of the cowslips\nis very poetic:\n\n    \u201cThe cowslips tall her pensioners be,\n    In their gold coats spots you see--\n    Those be rubies, fairy favors;\n    In those freckles live their savors.\n    I must go seek some dew-drops here,\n    And hang a pearl in every cowslip\u2019s ear.\u201d\n\nBishop Hall, in 1597, published a satirical poem in which he complains\nthat madrigals and ballads were \u201csung to the wheel, and sung unto the\npail\u201d--that is, by maids spinning and milking, or fetching water; and\nLord Surrey, in one of his poems, says (not satirically, however):\n\n    \u201cMy mother\u2019s maids, when they do sit and spin,\n    They sing a song.\u201d\n\nNow, we gather what was the style of these songs of peasant girls and\nlaborers from the writings of good old Izaak Walton, who mentions, as a\ncommon occurrence, that he often met, in the fields bordering the river\nLee, a handsome milkmaid who sang like a nightingale, her voice being\ngood and the ditties fitted for it. \u201cShe sang the smooth song which was\nmade by Kit Marlowe, now at least fifty years ago, and the milkmaid\u2019s\nmother sang the answer to it which was made by Sir Walter Raleigh in\nhis younger days.\u2026 They were old-fashioned poetry, but choicely good; I\nthink much better than that now in fashion in this critical age.\u201d[166] He\nwrote in the reign of Charles I., and already deplored the influx of more\npretentious songs; but those he mentions with such commendation were the\nfamous \u201cPassionate Shepherd to his Love\u201d and the song beginning \u201cIf all\nthe world and love were young,\u201d two exquisite lyrics of an elegance much\nabove what is now termed the taste of the vulgar.\n\nIzaak Walton was as fond of music as of angling, and quotes many of the\npopular songs of his day. He was a quiet man, and only describes the\npastimes of humble life. He used to rest from his labors in an \u201chonest\nale-house\u201d and a \u201ccleanly room,\u201d where he and his fellow-fishermen, and\nsometimes the milkmaid, whiled away the evenings by singing ballads and\nduets. Any casual dropper-in was expected to take his part; and among the\nmusic mentioned as common in these gatherings are numbers of \u201cketches,\u201d\nor, as we should say, catches. The music of one of his favorite duets,\n\u201cMan\u2019s life is but vain, for \u2019tis subject to pain,\u201d is given in the old\neditions of his book. It is simple and pretty; the composer was Mr. H.\nLawes. Other songs, favorites of his, were \u201cCome, shepherds, deck your\nheads\u201d; \u201cAs at noon Dulcina rested\u201d; \u201cPhillida flouts me\u201d; and that\ntouching elegy, \u201cSweet day, so cool, so calm, so bright,\u201d by George\nHerbert. This is as full of meaning as it is short:\n\n    \u201cSweet day, so cool, so calm, so bright,\n    The bridal of the earth and sky,\n    Sweet dews shall weep thy fall to-night\n            For thou must die.\n\n    \u201cSweet rose, whose hue, angry and brave,\n    Bids the rash gazer wipe his eye,\n    Thy root is ever in its grave,\n            And thou must die.\n\n    \u201cSweet spring, full of sweet days and roses,\n    A box where sweets compacted lie,\n    My music shows you have your closes\n            And all must die.\n\n    \u201cOnly a sweet and virtuous soul,\n    Like seasoned timber never gives,\n    But, when the whole world turns to coal,\n            Then chiefly lives.\u201d\n\nSir Henry Wotton\u2019s song for the poor countryman, beginning--\n\n    \u201cFly from our country pastimes, fly,\n    Sad troops of human misery!\n      Come, serene looks,\n      Clear as the crystal brooks,\n    Or the pure, azured heaven that smiles to see\n    The rich attendance on our poverty!\u201d\n\nand some verses of Dr. Donne (both these writers being contemporaries\nof James I.), are also mentioned by Walton as popular among the lower\nclasses in his day. Here is another instance of the power of song over\nthe peasantry in the early part of the XVIIth century. In the spring\nof 1613, on the occasion of Queen Anne of Denmark\u2019s return from Bath,\nwhere she had gone for her health, she was met on Salisbury Plain by the\nRev. George Fereby, vicar of some obscure country parish, who entreated\nthat her majesty would be pleased to listen to a concert performed by\nhis people. \u201cWhen the queen signified her assent, there rose out of the\nravine a handsome company, dressed as Druids and as British shepherds\nand shepherdesses, who sang a greeting, beginning with these words, to a\nmelody which greatly pleased the musical taste of her majesty:\n\n    \u201c\u2018Shine, oh! shine, thou sacred star,\n    On seely[167] shepherd swains!\u2019\n\nWe should suppose, from the commencing words, that this poem had\noriginally been a Nativity hymn pertaining to the ancient church; and\nit is possible that the melody might be traced to the same source.\u2026\nThe music, the voices, and the romantic dresses, so well corresponding\nwith the mysterious spot where this pastoral concert was stationed,\ngreatly captivated the imagination of the queen.\u201d[168] Anne of Denmark\nadmired and patronized the genius of Ben Jonson, the writer of several\nmusical masques often performed at court by the queen and her noble\nattendants. The really classical time of English poetry and music was\nbefore the Commonwealth, and popular music certainly received a blow\nduring the Puritan rule. Songs and ballads were forbidden as profane;\nand in 1656 Cromwell enacted that \u201cif any of the persons commonly called\nfiddlers or minstrels shall at any time be taken playing, fiddling,\nand making music in any inn, ale-house, or tavern, or shall be taken\nproffering themselves, or designing or entreating any to hear them play\nor make music in any of the places aforesaid,\u201d they should be \u201cadjudged\nand declared to be rogues, vagabonds, and sturdy beggars.\u201d Fines and\nimprisonments were often the penalties attached to a disregard of these\nordinances; but this opposition only turned the course of popular song\ninto political channels, and it became a point of honor among the\nRoyalists to listen to, applaud, and protect the veriest scamp who\ncalled himself a minstrel. Songs were written with no poetical merit,\nbut full of political allusions, bitter taunts and sneers; and it was\nthe delight of the Cavaliers to sing these doggerel rhymes and make the\nwandering fiddlers sing them. Many a brawl owed its origin to this. Even\ncertain tunes, without any words, were considered as identified with\npolitical principle, and led to dangerous ebullitions of feeling, or\nkept alive party prejudices in those who heard them. Popular music has\nalways been a powerful engine for good or bad, in a political sense.\nHalf the loyalty of the Jacobites of Scotland in the XVIIIth century\nwas due to inflammatory songs; K\u00f6rner\u2019s lyrics fired German patriotism\nagainst Napoleon; and there has never been a party of any kind that did\nnot speedily adopt some representative melody to fan the ardor of its\nadherents.\n\nBut if music and poetry were proscribed by the over-rigorous Puritans,\na worse excess was fostered by the immoral reign of Charles II. The\nRestoration polluted the stream which the Commonwealth had attempted to\ndam up. Just as, in a spirit of bravado and contradiction, the Cavaliers\nhad ostentatiously made cursing and swearing a badge of their party, to\nspite the sanctimoniousness of the Roundheads, so they affected to oppose\nto the latter\u2019s psalm-singing roaring and immodest songs. Ritson says\nthat Charles II. tried his hand at song-writing, and quotes a piece by\nhim, beginning:\n\n    \u201cI pass all my hours in a shady old grove.\u201d\n\n\u201cThough by no means remarkable for poetical merit,\u201d says the critic, \u201cit\nhas certainly enough for the composition of a king.\u201d Moli\u00e8re was not\nmore severe on the attempts of Louis XIV. But though the general spirit\nof the age was licentious, many good songs were still written. Sedley,\nRochester, Dorset, Sheffield, and others wrote unexceptionable ones,\nand the great Dryden flourished in this reign. One of his odes, \u201cOn S.\nCecilia\u2019s Day,\u201d is thoroughly musical in its rhythm, the refrains at the\nend of each stanza having the ring of some of the old German Minnesongs\nof the XIIth and XIIIth centuries. But his verses were scarcely simple\nor flowing enough to become popular in the widest sense, which honor\nrather belonged to the less celebrated poets of his day. Lord Dorset,\nfor instance, was the author of a sea-song said to have been written the\nnight before an engagement with the Dutch in 1665, and which, from its\nadmirable ease, flow, and tenderness, became at once popular with all\nclasses. The circumstances under which it was supposed to be written had,\nno doubt, something to do with its popularity; but Dr. Johnson says:\n\u201cSeldom any splendid story is wholly true. I have heard from the late\nEarl of Orrery, who was likely to have good hereditary intelligence,\nthat Lord Dorset had been a week employed upon it, and only retouched\nor finished it on the memorable evening. But even this, whatever it\nmay subtract from his facility, leaves him his courage.\u201d The anonymous\nwriter to whom we have referred[169] tells us that \u201cthe shorter pieces\nof most of the poets of the time of Charles II. had a rhythm and cadence\nparticularly well suited to music. They were, in short, what the Italians\ncall _cantabile_, or fit to be sung.\u2026 In the succeeding reigns, with\nthe growth of our literature, there was a considerable increase in\nsong-writing; most of our poets of eminence, and some who had no eminence\nexcept what they obtained in that way, devoting themselves occasionally\nto the composition of lyrical pieces. Prior, Rowe, Steele, Philips,\nParnell, Gay, and others contributed a stock which might advantageously\nbe referred to by the composers of our own times.\u201d Prior was a friend\nand _prot\u00e9g\u00e9_ of Lord Dorset, who sent him to Cambridge and paid for his\neducation there. Parnell was an Irishman. His \u201cHymn to Contentment\u201d is a\nsort of counterpart to the old song \u201cMy Mind to me a Kingdom is\u201d:\n\n    \u201cLovely, lasting peace, appear;\n    This world itself, if thou art here,\n    Is once again with Eden blest,\n    And man contains it in his breast.\u201d\n\nGay, the elegant, the humorous, and the pathetic, shows to most advantage\nin this group. He it was who wrote the famous ballad \u201cBlack-eyed Susan,\u201d\nand many others which, though less known at present, are equally\nadmirable. One of them was afterwards set to music by Handel, and later\non by Jackson of Exeter. But music did not keep pace with poetry; and\nthough Purcell, Carey, and one or two other composers flourished in the\nlatter part of the XVIIth and beginning of the XVIIIth centuries, they\nkept mostly to sacred music, and the new songs of the day were generally\nset to old tunes. Gay\u2019s _Beggar\u2019s Opera_, a collection of seventy-two\nsongs, could not boast of a single air composed for the purpose. The\nmusic was all old, but the stage, says Dr. Burney, ruined the simplicity\nof the old airs, as it invariably does all music adapted to dramatic\npurposes. Indeed, we, in our own day, sometimes have the opportunity\nof verifying this fact, when old airs or ballads are introduced into\noperas to which they are unfitted. The \u201cLast Rose of Summer\u201d put into\nthe opera of _Martha_ is an instance in point; but, worse than that,\nthe writer once heard \u201cHome, Sweet Home\u201d sung during the music-lesson\nscene in the _Barbier de Seville_. Adelina Patti was the _prima donna_,\nand any one who has seen and heard her can imagine the contrast between\nthe simple, pathetic air and words, and the kittenish, coquettish,\nDresden-china style of the singer! Add to this the costume of a Spanish\n_se\u00f1orita_ and the stage finery of Rosina\u2019s boudoir, not to mention the\nabsurd anachronism involved in a girl of the XVIIth century singing\nPaine\u2019s touching song. Of course the audience applauded vigorously;\nfor an English audience at the opera goes into action in the spirit of\nNelson\u2019s words, \u201cEngland expects every man to do his duty,\u201d and the\nincongruousness of the scene never troubles its mind.\n\nCarey tried to stem the downfall of really good popular music by writing\nboth the words and music of the well-known ballad of \u201cSally in our\nAlley,\u201d which attained a popularity (using the word in its proper sense)\nthat it has never lost and never will lose. The song was soon known\nfrom one end of the country to the other, and, like the old songs, was\n\u201cwhistled o\u2019er the furrowed land\u201d and \u201csung to the wheel, and sung unto\nthe pail.\u201d Addison was no less fond of it than the common people; but the\nsong was an exception in its time, and the poetry of the day never again\nmade its way among the great body of the people, as it had done under\nthe Tudors and the early Stuarts. Music and poetry both grew artificial\nunder the Hanoverian dynasty, and the mannerisms and affectations of\nrhymers and would-be musical critics were sharply satirized by Pope and\nSwift. In the reign of Queen Anne the Italian opera was introduced into\nLondon, and the silly rage for foreign music, _because_ it was foreign,\nsoon worked its way among all classes. Handel brought about the first\nsalutary return to natural and simple musical expression, and, setting\nmany national and pastoral pieces to music, diffused the taste for good\nmusic through the intermediate orders of the people, especially the\ncountry gentry, but the masses still clung to interminable ballads,\nwith monotonous tunes and no individuality either of sense or of form.\nAlthough England could boast of some good native composers and poets in\nthe XVIIIth century--for instance, among the former, Boyce, Arne, Linley,\nJackson, Shield, Arnold, etc.--still no good music penetrated into the\nlower strata of society; for these musicians mostly confined themselves\nto pieces of greater pretension than anything which was likely to become\npopular. Wales and the North of England still kept up a better standard,\nbut the general taste of the nation was decidedly vitiated. Dibdin\u2019s\nsea-songs broke the spell and reached the heart of the people; but this\nwas rather a momentary flash than a permanent resurrection of good taste\nand discernment. The custom of writing the majority of songs for one\nvoice, we think, had had much to do with destroying the genuine love of\nmusic among the people. It seemed to shift the burden of entertainment\nupon one member of a social gathering, instead of assuming that music\nwas the welcome occupation and pastime of the greater number; and\nbesides this, it no doubt fostered an undue rage for melody, or, as it\nis vulgarly called, _tune_. We have often had occasion to notice how\nbald and meagre--trivial, indeed--a mere thread of melody can sound\nwhen sung by one voice, which, if sung in parts, acquires a majestic\nand full tone. The fashion of solo-singing, which obtains so much\nin our day, has another disadvantage: it encourages affectation and\nself-complacency in the singer. The solo-singer is very apt to arrogate\nto him or herself the merit and effect of the piece; to think more of the\nindividual performance than of the music performed; and to spoil a good\npiece by interpolating runs and shakes to show off his or her powers of\nvocal gymnastics. All this was impossible in the old part-songs, where\nattention and precision were indispensable.\n\nThere are hopeful indications at present that England is not utterly\nsunk into musical indifference, but, strange to say, wherever the good\nleaven _does_ work, it does so from below upwards. The lower classes in\nthe North of England have mainly given the impulse; the higher are still,\non the whole, superficial in their tastes and trivial and mediocre in\ntheir performances. Even as far back as 1834, the writer in the _Penny\nMagazine_ already quoted gives an interesting account of a surprise he\nmet with at a small village in Sussex. (This, be it remembered, is an\nalmost exclusively Saxon district of the country.) Being tired of the\nsolitude of the little inn and the dulness of a country newspaper, he\nwalked down the street of the village, and, in so doing, was brought to a\npause before a small cottage, nowise distinguished from the other humble\nhomesteads of the place, from which proceeded sounds of sweet music. The\nperformance within consisted, not of voices, but of instruments; and\nthe piece was one of great pathos and beauty, and not devoid of musical\ndifficulty. When it was finished, and the performers had rested a few\nseconds, they executed a German quartet of some pretensions in very\ngood style. This was followed by variations on a popular air by Stephen\nStorace, which they played in excellent time and with considerable\nelegance and expression. Several other pieces, chosen with equal good\ntaste, succeeded this, and the stranger enjoyed a musical treat where\nhe little expected one. On making inquiries at the inn, he found that\nthe performers were all young men of the village, humble mechanics and\nagricultural laborers, who, for some considerable time, had been in the\nhabit of meeting at each other\u2019s houses in the evening, and playing\nand practising together. The taste had originated with a young man of\nthe place who had acquired a little knowledge of music at Brighton. He\nhad taught some of his comrades, and by degrees they had so increased\nin number and improved in the art that now, to use the words of the\ninformant, \u201cthere were eight or ten that could play by book and in\npublic.\u201d\n\nAt that time, and in that part of the country, this was an unusual and\nremarkable proof of refinement and good taste; but at present, though\nstill the exception, it is no longer quite so rare to find uneducated\npeople able to a certain degree to appreciate good music. Much has\nbeen written to vindicate English musical taste within the last thirty\nor forty years; but still the fact can scarcely be overlooked that,\nnotwithstanding all efforts to the contrary, the standard of taste among\nthe masses is lower than it was in Tudor days.\n\nEvery one is familiar with the choral unions, the glee-clubs, the\ncarol-singing, Leslie\u2019s choir, and Hullah\u2019s methods, which all go far to\nraise the taste of the people and enlist the vocal powers of many who\notherwise would have been tempted to leave singing to the \u201cmounseers\u201d\nand other \u201cfurriners,\u201d as the only thing those benighted individuals\ncould be good for. There is, as there has been for many generations, the\nChapel Royal, a sort of informal school of music; there is the Academy\nof Music; there are \u201cCrystal Palace\u201d and \u201cMonday Popular Concerts\u201d;\nmusical festivals every year in the various cathedrals, oratorios in\nExeter Hall; and there soon will be a \u201cNational School of Music,\u201d which\nis to be a climax in musical education, the pride of the representative\nbodies of wealthy and noble England (for princes and corporations have\nvied with each other in founding scholarships); but with all this, the\npalmy days of the Tudors are dead and gone beyond the power of man to\ngalvanize them into new activity. True, every young woman plays the\npianoforte; you see that instrument in the grocer\u2019s best parlor and the\nfarmer\u2019s keeping-room; but the sort of music played upon it is trivial\nand foreign, an exotic in the life of the performer, a boarding-school\naccomplishment, not a labor of love. You can hear \u201cBeautiful Star,\u201d and\n\u201cHome, Sweet Home,\u201d and Mozart\u2019s \u201cAgnus Dei\u201d sung one after the other,\nwith the same expression, the same \u201cstrumminess,\u201d the same stolidity,\nor the same affected languor, and you will perceive that, though the\nsinger may _know_ them, she neither feels nor understands them. Moore\u2019s\nmelodies, too, you hear _ad nauseam_, murdered and slurred over anyhow;\nbut both the delicacy of the poetry and the pathos of the music are a\ndead-letter to the performer. But though a few songs by good writers are\npopular in the middle classes--for instance, Tennyson\u2019s \u201cBrook\u201d and \u201cCome\ninto the garden, Maud,\u201d the immortal and almost unspoilable \u201cHome, Sweet\nHome\u201d--yet there is also a dark side to the picture in the prevalence of\ncomic songs, low, slangy ballads, sham negro melodies (utterly unlike the\nreal old pathetic plantation-song), and other degrading entertainments\nclassed under the title of \u201cpopular music.\u201d The higher classes give\nlittle countenance or aid to the upward movement in music, and still look\nupon the art as an adjunct of fashion. With such disadvantages, it is a\nwonder that England has struggled back into the ranks of music-lovers\nat all, even though, as yet, she can take but a subordinate place among\nthem.\n\n\nPIOUS PICTURES.\n\nA great deterioration having been observable for some time past in\nthe multitudinous little pictures published in Paris, ostensibly with\na religious object, some of the more thoughtful writers in Catholic\nperiodicals have on several recent occasions earnestly protested against\nthe form these representations are taking. Their remonstrances are,\nhowever, as yet unsuccessful. The \u201carticle\u201d continues to be produced on\nan increasing scale, and is daily transmitted in immense quantities,\nnot only to the farthest extremities of the territory, but far beyond,\nespecially to England and America, to ruin taste, sentimentalize piety,\nand \u201cgive occasion to the enemy to\u201d _deride_ if not to \u201cblaspheme.\u201d\n\nThe bishops of France have already turned their attention to this\nunhealthy state of things in what may be called pictorial literature\nfor the pious, and efforts are being made in the higher regions of\necclesiastical authority to arrest its deterioration. In the synod lately\nheld at Lyons severe censure was passed on the objectionable treatment\nof sacred things so much in vogue in certain quarters; and, still more\nrecently, Father Matignon, in his conference on \u201cThe Artist,\u201d condemned\nthese \u201cgrotesque interpretations of religious truths, which render\nthem ridiculous in the eyes of unbelievers, and corrupt the taste of\nthe faithful.\u201d The eloquent preacher at the same time recommended the\nCatholic journalists to denounce a species of commerce as ignorant as it\nis mercenary, and counselled the members of the priesthood to \u201cdeclare\nunrelenting war against this school of _pettiness_, which is daily\ngaining ground in France, and which gives a trivial and vulgar aspect to\nthings the most sacred.\u201d\n\nThis appeal has not been without effect. There appears in the _Monde_,\nfrom the pen of M. L\u00e9on Gautier, the author of several pious and learned\nworks, a Letter \u201cAgainst Certain Pictures,\u201d addressed \u201cto the president\nof the Conference of T----,\u201d in which the absurdity of these silly\ncompositions is attacked with much spirit and good sense. The _Semaine\nReligieuse de Paris_ reproduces this letter, with an entreaty to its\nreaders to enroll themselves in the crusade therein preached by the\neminent writer--a crusade the opportuneness of which must be only too\nevident to every thoughtful and religious mind. M. L\u00e9on Gautier writes as\nfollows:\n\n    You have requested me, dear friend, to purchase for you a\n    \u201cgross\u201d of little pictures for distribution among your poor and\n    their children.\u2026\n\n    As to the selection of these pictures I must own myself\n    greatly perplexed, and must beg to submit to you very humbly\n    my difficulties, and not only my difficulties, but also my\n    distress, and, to say the truth, my indignation. I have before\n    my eyes at this moment four or five hundred pictures which\n    have been sold to me as \u201cpious,\u201d but which I consider as in\n    reality among the most detestable and irreverent of any kind of\n    merchandise. A great political journal the other day gave to\n    one of its leaders the title of _L\u2019Ec\u0153urement_.[170] I cannot\n    give a title to my letter, but, were it possible to do so, I\n    should choose this one in preference to any other. I am in the\n    unfortunate state of a man who has swallowed several kilograms\n    of adulterated honey. I am suffering from an indigestion of\n    sugar; and what sugar! Whilst in the act of buying these\n    little horrors, I beheld numberless purchasers succeed each\n    other with feverish eagerness in the shops, which I will not\n    specify. Yes, I had the pain of meeting there with Christian\n    Brothers and with Sisters of Charity, who made me sigh by their\n    simple avidity and ingenuous delight at the sight of these\n    frightful little black or rose-colored prints. They bought them\n    by hundreds, by thousands, by ten thousands; for schools, for\n    orphanages, for missions. Ah! my dear friend, how many souls\n    are going to be well treacled in our hapless world! It is the\n    triumph of confectionery. \u201cWhy are you choosing such machines\n    as these?\u201d I asked of the good Brother Theodore, whom, to my\n    great astonishment, I found among the purchasers; \u201cthey are\n    disagreeable.\u201d \u201cAgreed.\u201d \u201cThey are stupid.\u201d \u201cI know it.\u201d \u201cThey\n    are dear.\u201d \u201cMy purse is only too well aware of the fact.\u201d \u201cThen\n    why do you buy them?\u201d \u201cBecause I find that these only are\n    acceptable.\u201d And thereupon the worthy man told me that he had\n    the other day distributed among his children pictures taken\n    from the fine head of our Saviour attributed to Morales--a\n    _chef-d\u2019\u0153uvre_. The children, however, perceiving that there\n    was no gilding upon them, had thrown them aside, gaping.\n    Decidedly, the evil is greater than I had supposed, and it is\n    time to consider what is to be done.\n\n    In spite of all this, I have bought your provision of pictures;\n    but do not be uneasy--I am keeping them myself, and will\n    proceed to describe them to you. I do not wish that the taste\n    of your beloved poor should be vitiated by the sight of these\n    mawkish designs; but I will take upon myself to analyze them\n    for your benefit, and then see if you are not very soon as\n    indignant as myself.\n\n    In the first place we have the \u201csymbolical\u201d pictures, and these\n    are the most numerous of all. I do not want to say too much\n    against them. You know in what high estimation I hold true\n    symbolism, and we have many a time exchanged our thoughts on\n    this admirable form of the activity of the human mind. A symbol\n    is a comparison between things belonging to the physical and\n    things belonging to the immaterial world. Now, these two worlds\n    are in perfect harmony with each other. To each phenomenon of\n    the moral order there corresponds exactly a phenomenon of the\n    visible order. If we compare these two facts with each other,\n    we have a symbol. There is a life, a breath, a whiteness,\n    which are material. Figurative language is nothing else than a\n    vast and wonderful symbolism, and you remember the marvellous\n    things written on this subject by the lamented M. Landriot.\n    In the supernatural order it is the same, and all Christian\n    generations have made use of symbolism to express the most\n    sacred objects of their adoration. There has been the symbolism\n    of the Catacombs; there has been also that of the Middle Ages.\n    The two, although not resembling, nevertheless complete, each\n    other, and eloquently attest the fact that the Christian race\n    has never been without the use of symbols.\n\n    Thus it is not symbolism which I condemn, but this particular\n    symbolism of which I am about to speak, and which is so\n    odiously silly. I write to you with the proofs before me. I am\n    not inventing, but, mirror-wise, merely reflecting. I am not\n    an author, but a photographer.\n\n    Firstly, here we have a ladder, which represents \u201cthe way of\n    the soul towards God.\u201d This is very well, although moderately\n    ideal; but then who is mounting this ladder? You would never\n    guess. It is a dove! Yes; the poor bird is painfully climbing\n    up the rounds as if she were a hen getting back to roost,\n    and apparently forgetting that she owns a pair of wings. But\n    we shall find this dove elsewhere; for our pictures are full\n    of the species, and are in fact a very plentifully-stocked\n    dove-cote. I perceive down there another animal; it is a\n    roe with her fawn, and with amazement I read this legend:\n    \u201cThe fecundity of the breast of the roe is the image of the\n    abundance and sweetness of grace.\u201d Why was the roe selected,\n    and why roe\u2019s milk? Strange! But here again we have a singular\n    collection. On a heart crowned with roses is placed a\n    candlestick (a candlestick on a heart!), and this candelabrum,\n    price twenty-nine sous, is surmounted by a lighted candle,\n    around which angels are pressing. This, we are told underneath,\n    is \u201cgood example.\u201d Does it mean that we are to set one for the\n    blessed angels to follow? Next, what do I see here? A guitar;\n    and this at the foot of the cross. Let us see what can be the\n    reason of this mysterious assemblage; the text furnishes it:\n    _Je me d\u00e9lasserai \u00e0 l\u2019abri de la Croix_--\u201cI will refresh myself\n    in the shelter of the cross\u201d--from whence it follows that one\n    can play the guitar upon Golgotha. Touching emblem! And what do\n    you say of this other, in which our Saviour Jesus, the Word,\n    and, as Bossuet says, the Reason and Interior Discourse of\n    the Eternal Father, is represented as occupied in killing I\n    know not what little insects on the leaves of a rose-bush? \u201cThe\n    divine Gardener destroys the caterpillars which make havoc in\n    his garden,\u201d says the legend. I imagine nothing, but merely\n    transcribe, and for my part would gladly turn insecticide to\n    this collection of _imagerie_.\n\n    This hand issuing out of a cloud I recognize as the hand of my\n    Lord God, the Creator and Father of all, who is at the same\n    time their comforter, their stay, and their life. I admit\n    this symbol, which is ancient and truly Christian; but this\n    divine hand, which the Middle Ages would most carefully have\n    guarded against charging with any kind of burden; this hand,\n    which represents Eternal Justice and Eternal Goodness--can\n    you imagine what it is here made to hold? [Not even the fiery\n    bolt which the heathen of old times represented in the grasp\n    of their Jupiter Tonans, but] a horrible and stupid little\n    watering-pot, from the spout of which trickles a driblet\n    of water upon the cup of a lily. Further on I see the said\n    watering-pot is replaced by a sort of jug, which the Eternal\n    is emptying upon souls in the shape of doves; and this, the\n    legend kindly informs me, is \u201cthe heavenly dew.\u201d Heavenly\n    dew trickling out of a jug! And there are individuals who\n    can imagine and depict a thing like this when the beneficent\n    Creator daily causes to descend from his beautiful sky those\n    milliards of little pearly drops which sparkle in the morning\n    sunshine on the fair mantle of our earth! Water, it must be\n    owned, is scarcely a successful subject under any form with our\n    picture-factors. Here is a poor and miserably-painted thread\n    lifting itself up above a basin, while I am informed underneath\n    that \u201cthe jet of water is the image of the soul lifting itself\n    towards God by meditation.\u201d\n\n    I also need to be enlightened as to how \u201ca river turned aside\n    from its course is an image of the good use and of the abuse\n    of grace.\u201d It is obscure, but still it does not vulgarize and\n    debase a beautiful and Scriptural image, like the next I will\n    mention, in which, over the motto, \u201cCare of the lamp: image of\n    the cultivation of grace in our hearts,\u201d we have a servant-maid\n    taking her great oily scissors and cutting the wick, of which\n    she scatters the blackened fragments no matter where.\n\n    The quantity of ribbon and string used up by these\n    symbol-manufacturers is something incalculable. Here lines of\n    string unite all the hearts of the faithful (doves again!)\n    to the heart of Our Blessed Lady; there Mary herself, the\n    Immaculate One and our own incomparable Mother, from the height\n    of heaven holds in leash, by an interminable length of string,\n    a certain little dove, around the neck of which there hangs a\n    scapular. This, we are told, means that \u201cMary is the directress\n    of the obedient soul.\u201d Elsewhere the string is replaced by\n    pretty rose-colored or pale-blue ribbons, which have doubtless\n    a delicious effect to those who can appreciate it. Here is a\n    young girl walking along cheerfully enough, notwithstanding\n    that her heart is tied by one of these elegant ribbons to\n    that of the Blessed Mother of God, apparently without causing\n    her the slightest inconvenience. Her situation, however, is,\n    I think, less painful than that of this other young person,\n    who is occupied in carving her own heart into a shape\n    resembling that of Mary. Another young female has hoisted this\n    much-tormented organ (her own) on an easel, and is painting\n    it after the same pattern. But let us hasten out of this\n    atelier to breathe the open air among these trees. Alas! we\n    there find, under the form and features of an effeminate child\n    of eight years old, \u201cthe divine Gardener putting a prop to a\n    sapling tree,\u201d or \u201cgrafting on the wild stock the germ of good\n    fruits.\u201d This is all pretty well; but what can be said of this\n    ciborium which has been energetically stuck into a lily, with\n    the legend, \u201cI seek a pure heart\u201d? These gentlemen, indeed,\n    treat you to the Most Holy Eucharist with a free-and-easyness\n    that is by no means fitting or reverent. It is forbidden to the\n    hands of laics to touch the Sacred Vessels, and it is only just\n    that the same prohibition should apply to picture-makers. They\n    are entreated not to handle thus lightly and irreverently that\n    which is the object of our faith, our hope, and our love.\n\n    Hitherto I have refrained from touching upon that very delicate\n    subject which it is nevertheless necessary that I should\n    approach--namely, the representation of the Sacred Heart. And\n    here I feel myself at ease, having beforehand submitted to all\n    the decisions of the church, and having for long past made it\n    my great aim to be penetrated with her spirit. Like yourself,\n    I have a real devotion to the Sacred Heart, nor do I wish to\n    conceal it. When any devotion takes so wide a development in\n    the Holy Church, it is because it is willed by God, who watches\n    unceasingly over her destinies and the forms of worship which\n    she renders to him. All Catholics are agreed upon this point.\n    It is true that certain among them regard the Sacred Heart\n    as the symbol of Divine Love, and that others consider it\n    under the aspect of a very adorable part of the Body of the\n    God-Man, and, if I may so express it, as a kind of centralized\n    Eucharist. Well, I hold that to be accurate one ought to admit\n    and harmonize the two systems, and therefore I do so. You\n    are aware that it is my belief that physiology does not yet\n    sufficiently understand the mechanism of our material heart,\n    and I await discoveries on that subject which shall establish\n    the fact of its necessity to our life. The other day, at\n    Baill\u00e8re\u2019s, I remained a long time carefully examining a fine\n    engraving representing the circulation of the blood through the\n    veins and arteries, and I especially contemplated the heart\n    the source and receptacle of this double movement, and said\n    to myself, \u201cThe worship of the Sacred Heart will be one day\n    justified by physiology.\u201d But why do I say this, when it is so\n    already? Behold me, then, on my knees before the Sacred Heart\n    of my God, in which I behold at the same time an admirable\n    symbol and a yet more admirable reality. But is this a reason\n    for representing the Sacred Heart in a manner alike ridiculous\n    and odious? I will not here enter upon the question as to\n    whether it is allowable to represent the Sacred Heart of Jesus\n    otherwise than in his Sacred Breast, and I only seek to know\n    in order to accept unhesitatingly whatever with regard to this\n    may be the thought of the church. But that which to my mind is\n    utterly revolting is the sight of the profanations of which\n    these fortieth-rate picture-manufacturers are guilty. What\n    right have they, and how do they dare, to represent hundreds\n    of consecrated Hosts issuing from the Sacred Heart, and a\n    dove pecking at them as they are dropping down? What right\n    have they to make the Heart of our Lord God a pigeon-house, a\n    roosting-place for these everlasting doves, or into a vase out\n    of which they are drinking? What right have they to insert a\n    little heart (ours) into the Divine Heart of Jesus? What right\n    have they to represent to us [a Pelion, Ossa, and Olympus on\n    a small scale] three hearts, the one piled upon the other,\n    and cascades of blood pouring from the topmost, which is that\n    of Our Lord; upon the second, which is that of his Blessed\n    Mother; and thence upon the third, which is our own? What right\n    have they to make the Sacred Heart shed showers of roses, or\n    to give its form to their \u201cmystic garden\u201d? Lastly, what right\n    have they to lodge it in the middle of a full-blown flower, and\n    make the latter address to it the scented question, \u201cWhat would\n    you desire me to do in order that I may be agreeable to you?\u201d\n    Ye well-meaning picture-makers! beware of asking me the same\n    question; for both you and I very well know what would be the\n    answer.\n\n    The truth is that these clumsy persons manage to spoil\n    everything they touch, and they have dishonored the symbolism\n    of the dove, as they have compromised the representations of\n    the Sacred Heart. The dove is undoubtedly one of the most\n    ancient and evangelical of all the Christian symbols; but a\n    certain discretion is nevertheless necessary in the employment\n    of this emblem of the Holy Spirit of God. This discretion\n    never failed our forefathers, who scarcely ever depicted the\n    dove, except only in the scene of Our Lord\u2019s baptism and in\n    representations of the Blessed Trinity. In the latter the\n    Eternal Father, vested in pontifical or imperial robes, holds\n    between his arms the cross, whereon hangs his Son, while the\n    Holy Dove passes from the Father to the Son as the eternal love\n    which unites them. This is well, simple, and even fine. But\n    there is a vast difference between this and the present abuse\n    and vulgarization of the dove as an emblem, where it is made\n    use of to represent the faithful soul. No, truly, one is weary\n    of all this. Do you see this flight of young pigeons hovering\n    about with hearts in their beaks? The beaks are very small and\n    the hearts very large, but you are intended to understand by\n    this that \u201cfervent souls rise rapidly to great perfection.\u201d\n    These other doves, lower down, give themselves less trouble and\n    fatigue; they are quietly pecking into a heart, and I read this\n    legend: \u201cThe heart of Love is inexhaustible; let us go to it in\n    all our wants.\u201d The pigeon that I see a little farther off is\n    not without his difficulties; he is carrying a stout stick in\n    his delicate beak, and--would you believe it?--the explanation\n    of this remarkable symbol is, \u201cThy rod and thy staff have\n    comforted me.\u201d Here again are carrier-pigeons, bringing us in\n    their beaks nicely-folded letters in charming envelopes. One of\n    these birds [who possibly may belong to the variety knows as\n    tumbler pigeons] has evidently fallen into the water; for he is\n    shown to us standing to recover himself on what appears to be a\n    heap of mud in the middle of the ocean, with the motto, \u201cSaved!\n    he is saved!\u201d Next I come upon a party of doves again--always\n    doves!--whose occupation is certainly no sinecure. Oars have\n    been fitted to their feeble claws, and these hapless creatures\n    are rowing. Here is another unfortunate pigeon. She is in\n    prison with a thick chain fastened to her left foot, and we are\n    told that she is \u201creposing on the damp straw of the dungeon.\u201d\n    Further on appears another of this luckless species, on its\n    back with its claws in the air. It is dead. So much the better.\n    It is not I who will encourage it to be so unwise as to return\n    to life. True, in default of doves, other symbols will not\n    be found lacking. Here are some of the tender kind--little\n    souvenirs to be exchanged between friend and friend, wherein\n    one finds I know not what indescribable conglomerations of\n    religious sentiment and natural friendship. Flowers, on all\n    sides flowers: forget-me-nots, pansies, lilies, and underneath\n    all the treasures of literature: \u201cIt is a friend who offers\n    you these\u201d; \u201cNear or far away, yours ever\u201d; \u201cThese will pass;\n    friendship will remain.\u201d \u201cC\u2019est la fleur de Marie Que je vous\n    ai choisie.\u201d (N.B.--This last is in verse.)\n\n    I know not, my dear friend, whether you feel with me on this\n    point. While persuading myself that all these playfulnesses are\n    very innocent, I yet find in them a certain something which\n    strikes me as interloping, and I do not like mixtures.\n\n    We have also the politico-religious pictures. Heaven forbid\n    that I should speak evil of the _fleurs-de-lys_ which embalmed\n    with their perfume all the dear Middle Ages to which I have\n    devoted so much of my life; but we have in these pictures of\n    which I am speaking mixtures which are, to my mind, detestable,\n    and I cannot endure this pretty little boat, of which the sails\n    are covered with _fleurs-de-lys_, its mast is the Pontifical\n    Cross, and its pilot the Sacred Heart. Is another allusion to\n    legitimacy intended in this cross surrounded with flowers and\n    bearing the legend, \u201cMy Beloved delights himself among the\n    lilies\u201d? I cannot tell; but if we let each political party\n    have free access to our religious picture-stores, we shall see\n    strange things, and then _Gare aux abeilles!_--\u201cBeware of the\n    bees.\u201d\n\n    One characteristic common to all these wretched picturelings is\n    their insipidity and petty childishness. They are a literature\n    of nurses and nursery-maids. The designers must surely belong\n    to the female portion of humanity; for one is conscious\n    everywhere of the invisible hand of woman. One is unwilling\n    to conceive it possible that any one with a beard on the chin\n    could bring himself to invent similar meagrenesses. These\n    persons are afraid of man, and have wisely adopted the plan of\n    never painting him, and of making everybody under the age of\n    ten years. Never have they had any clear or serious idea of the\n    Word, the God made man--of him, the mighty and terrible One,\n    who pronounced anathema on the Pharisees and the sellers in the\n    Temple. They can but represent a little Jesus in wax, or sugar,\n    or treacle; and alarmed at the loftiness of Divinity, and being\n    incapable of hewing his human form in marble, they have kneaded\n    it in gingerbread.\n\n    And yet our greatest present want is manliness. Truly, truly,\n    in France we have well-nigh no more men! Let us, then, have no\n    more of these childishnesses, but let us behold in the divine\n    splendor and perfect manhood of the Word made flesh the eternal\n    type of regenerated humanity.\n\n\nSUMMER STORMS.\n\n    Summer storms are fleeting things,\n      Coming soon, and quickly o\u2019er;\n    Yet their wrath a shadow brings\n      Where but sunshine dwelt before.\n\n    On the grass the pearl-drops lie\n      Fresh and lovely day appears;\n    Yet the rainbow\u2019s arch on high\n      Is but seen through falling tears.\n\n    For, though clouds have passed away,\n      Though the sky be bright again,\n    Earth still feels the transient sway\n      Of the heavy summer rain.\n\n    Broken flow\u2019rs and scattered leaves\n      Tell the short-lived tempest\u2019s power;\n    Something still in nature grieves\n      At the fierce and sudden shower.\n\n    There are in the human breast\n      Passions wild and deep and strong,\n    Bearing in their course unblest\n      Brightest hopes of life along.\n\n    O\u2019er the harp of many strings\n      Often comes a wailing strain,\n    When the hand of anger flings\n      Discord \u2019mid its soft refrain.\n\n    Tears may pass, and smiles again\n      Wreathe the lip and light the brow;\n    But, like flowers \u2019neath summer\u2019s rain,\n      Some bright hope lies crushed and low.\n\n    Some heart-idol shattered lies\n      In the temple\u2019s inner shrine:\n    Ne\u2019er unveiled to human eyes,\n      Sacred kept like things divine.\n\n    Speak not harshly to the loved\n      In your holy household band;\n    Days will come when where they moved\n      Many a vacant chair will stand.\n\n    To the erring--oh, be kind!\n      Balm give to the weary heart;\n    Soft words heal the wounded mind,\n      Bid the tempter\u2019s spell depart.\n\n    Let not passion\u2019s storm arise,\n      Though it pass like summer showers;\n    Clouds will dim the soul\u2019s pure skies,\n      Hope will weep o\u2019er broken flowers.\n\n    Speak, then, gently; tones of strife\n      Lightly breathed have lasting power;\n    Memories that embitter life\n      Often rise from one rash hour.\n\n\nTHE KING OF METALS\n\nFROM THE FRENCH.\n\nThere once lived a widow named Mary Jane, who had a beautiful daughter\ncalled Flora. The widow was a sensible, humble woman; the daughter,\non the contrary, was very haughty. Many young persons desired her in\nmarriage, but she found none to please her; the greater the number of\nher suitors, the more disdainful she became. One night the mother awoke,\nand, being unable to compose herself again to sleep, she began to say her\nrosary for Flora, whose pride gave her a great deal of disquietude. Flora\nwas asleep near her, and she smiled in her sleep.\n\nThe next day Mary Jane inquired:\n\n\u201cWhat beautiful dream had you that caused you to smile in your sleep?\u201d\n\n\u201cI dreamed that a great lord conducted me to church in a copper coach,\nand gave me a ring composed of precious stones that shone like stars; and\nwhen I entered the church, the people in the church looked only at the\nMother of God and at me.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! what a proud dream,\u201d cried the widow, humbly drooping her head.\n\nFlora began to sing. That same day a young peasant of good reputation\nasked her to marry him. This offer her mother approved, but Flora said to\nhim:\n\n\u201cEven were you to seek me in a coach of copper, and wed me with a ring\nbrilliant as the stars, I would not accept you.\u201d\n\nThe following night Mary Jane, being wakeful, began to pray, and, looking\nat Flora, saw her smile.\n\n\u201cWhat dream did you have last night?\u201d she asked Flora.\n\n\u201cI dreamed that a great lord came for me in a coach of silver, gave me a\ncoronet of gold, and when I entered the church those present were more\noccupied in looking at me than at the Mother of God.\u201d\n\n\u201cO poor child!\u201d exclaimed the widow, \u201cwhat an impious dream. Pray, pray\nearnestly that you may be preserved from temptation.\u201d\n\nFlora abruptly left her mother, that she might not hear her remonstrances.\n\nThat day a young gentleman came to ask her in marriage. Her mother\nregarded this proposal as a great honor, but Flora said to this new\naspirant:\n\n\u201cWere you to seek me in a coach of silver and offer me a coronet of gold,\nI would not wed you.\u201d\n\n\u201cUnfortunate girl!\u201d cried Mary Jane, \u201crenounce your pride. Pride leads to\ndestruction.\u201d\n\nFlora laughed.\n\nThe third night the watchful mother saw an extraordinary expression on\nher child\u2019s countenance, and she prayed fervently for her.\n\nIn the morning Flora told her of her dream.\n\n\u201cI dreamed,\u201d she said, \u201cthat a great lord came to seek me in a coach of\ngold, gave me a robe of gold, and when I entered the church all there\nassembled looked only at me.\u201d\n\nThe poor widow wept bitterly. The girl left her to escape seeing her\ndistress.\n\nThat day in the court-yard of the house there stood three equipages,\none of copper, the other of silver, and the third of gold. The first\nwas drawn by two horses, the second by four, the third by eight. From\nthe first two descended pages clothed in red, with green caps; from the\nthird descended a nobleman whose garments were of gold. He asked to marry\nFlora. She immediately accepted him, and ran to her chamber to decorate\nherself with the golden robe which he presented to her.\n\nThe good Mary Jane was sorrowful and anxious, but Flora\u2019s countenance\nwas radiant with delight. She left her home without asking the maternal\nbenediction, and entered the church with a haughty air. Her mother\nremained on the threshold praying and weeping.\n\nAfter the ceremony, Flora entered the golden equipage with her husband,\nand they departed, followed by the two other equipages.\n\nThey drove a long, a very long distance. At last they arrived at a rock\nwhere there was a large entrance like the gate of a city. They entered\nthrough this door, which soon closed with a terrible noise, and they were\nin midnight darkness. Flora was trembling with fear, but her husband said:\n\n\u201cReassure yourself; you will soon see the light.\u201d In truth, from every\nside appeared little creatures in red clothes and green caps--the dwarfs\nwho dwell in the cavities of the mountains. They carried flaming torches,\nand advanced to meet their master, the King of Metals.\n\nThey ranged themselves around, and escorted him through long valleys and\nsubterranean forests. But--a very singular thing--all the trees of these\nforests were of lead.\n\nAt last the cort\u00e9ge reached a magnificent prairie or meadow; in the\nmidst of this meadow was a ch\u00e2teau of gold studded with diamonds. \u201cThis,\u201d\nsaid the King of Metals, \u201cis your domain.\u201d Flora was much fatigued and\nvery hungry. The dwarfs prepared dinner, and her husband led her to a\ntable of gold. But all the meats and all the food presented to her were\nof this metal. Flora, not being able to partake of this food, was reduced\nto ask humbly for a piece of bread. The waiters brought her bread of\ncopper, of silver, and of gold. She could not bite either of them. \u201cI\ncannot give you,\u201d her husband said, \u201cthe bread that you wish; here we\nhave no other kind of bread.\u201d\n\nThe young woman wept, and the king said to her:\n\n\u201cYour tears cannot change your fate. This is the destiny you have\nyourself chosen.\u201d\n\nThe miserable Flora was compelled to remain in this subterranean abode,\nsuffering with hunger, through her passion for wealth. Only once a year,\nat Easter, she is allowed to ascend for three days to the upper earth,\nand then she goes from village to village, begging from door to door a\nmorsel of bread.\n\n\nNEW PUBLICATIONS.\n\n    AN EXPOSITION OF THE CHURCH IN VIEW OF RECENT DIFFICULTIES AND\n    CONTROVERSIES, AND THE PRESENT NEEDS OF THE AGE. London: Basil\n    Montagu Pickering, 196 Piccadilly. 1875. New York: THE CATHOLIC\n    WORLD, April, 1875.\n\n(From _Le Contemporain_.)\n\nI. _Renewed Working of the Holy Spirit in the World._--We are, in a\nreligious, social, and political point of view, in times of transition\nwhich we are not able to understand, for the same reason that no one\ncan follow the movements of the battle-field who is in the midst of the\nengagement.\n\nTo judge from appearances, especially those which are nearest at hand, we\nare on the brink of an abyss. The Catholic religion, openly persecuted\nin Germany, prostrated now for several years in Italy and Spain by the\nsuppression of the religious congregations, attacked in all countries,\nabandoned by all sovereigns, appears, humanly speaking, to be on the\nbrink of destruction. There are not wanting prophets who predict the\ncollapse of Christianity and the end of the world. There are, however,\nmanly souls who do not allow themselves to be discouraged, and who see\ngrounds for hope in the very events which fill ordinary hearts with\nterror and consternation.\n\nOf this number is an American religious, Father Hecker, who has\njust issued a pamphlet in English, wherein, without concealing the\ndifficulties of the present, he avows his expectation of the approaching\ntriumph of religion.\n\nHis motives are drawn from the deep faith he professes in the action of\nthe Holy Spirit in the church, outside of which he does not see any real\nChristianity. It is the Holy Spirit whom we must first invoke; it is\nthe Holy Spirit of whom we have need, and who will cure all our ills by\nsending us his gifts.\n\n\u201cThe age,\u201d he says, \u201cis superficial; it needs the gift of wisdom, which\nenables the soul to contemplate truth in its ultimate causes. The age\nis materialistic; it needs the gift of intelligence, by the light of\nwhich the intellect penetrates into the essence of things. The age is\ncaptured by a false and one-sided science; it needs the gift of science,\nby the light of which is seen each order of truth in its true relations\nto other orders and in a divine unity. The age is in disorder, and is\nignorant of the ways to true progress; it needs the gift of counsel,\nwhich teaches how to choose the proper means to attain an object. The age\nis impious; it needs the gift of piety, which leads the soul to look up\nto God as the heavenly Father, and to adore him with feelings of filial\naffection and love. The age is sensual and effeminate; it needs the gift\nof force, which imparts to the will the strength to endure the greatest\nburdens, and to prosecute the greatest enterprises with ease and heroism.\nThe age has lost and almost forgotten God; it needs the gift of fear to\nbring the soul again to God, and make it feel conscious of its great\nresponsibility and of its destiny.\u201d\n\nThe men to whom these gifts have been accorded are those of whose\nservices our age has need. A single man with these gifts could do more\nthan ten thousand who possessed them not. It is to such men, if they\ncorrespond with the graces which have been heaped upon them, that our age\nwill owe its universal restoration and its universal progress. This being\nadmitted, since, on the other hand, it is of faith that the Holy Spirit\ndoes not allow the church to err, ought we not now to expect that he will\ndirect her on to a new path?\n\nSince the XVIth century, the errors of Protestantism, and the attacks\nupon the Catholic religion of which it gave the signal, have compelled\nthe church to change, to a certain extent, the normal orbit of her\nmovement. Now that she has completed in this direction her line of\ndefence,[171] it is to be expected that she will resume her primitive\ncareer, and enter on a new phase, by devoting herself to more vigorous\naction. It is impossible to dispute the fresh strength which the\ndefinition lately promulgated by the Council of the Vatican has bestowed\nupon the church. It is the axis on which now revolves the church\u2019s\ncareer--the renewal of religion in souls, and the entire restoration of\nsociety.\n\nDo we not see an extraordinary divine working in those numerous\npilgrimages to authorized sanctuaries, in those multiplied novenas, and\nthose new associations of prayer? And do they not give evidence of the\nincreasing influence of the Holy Spirit on souls?\n\nWhat matter persecutions? It is they which purify what remains of the too\nhuman in the church. It is by the cross we come to the light--_Per crucem\nad lucem_.\n\nA little farther on the author explains in what the twofold action of the\nHoly Spirit consists.\n\nHe acts at one and the same time in an intimate manner upon hearts, and\nin a manner quite external on the church herself.\n\nAn indefinite field of action conceded to the sentiments of the heart,\nwithout a sufficient knowledge of the end and object of the church,\nwould open the way for illusions, for heresies of every kind, and would\ninvite an individual mysticism which would be merely one of the forms of\nProtestantism.\n\nOn the other hand, the exclusive point of view of the external authority\nof the church, without a corresponding comprehension of the nature of\nthe operations of the Holy Spirit within the heart of every one of the\nfaithful, would make the practice of religion a pure formalism, and would\nrender obedience servile, and the action of the church sterile.\n\nMoreover, the action of the Holy Spirit made visible in the authority of\nthe church, and of the Holy Spirit dwelling invisibly in the heart, form\nan inseparable synthesis; and he who has not a clear conception of this\ndouble action of the Holy Spirit runs the risk of losing himself in one\nor other of the extremes which would involve the destruction and end of\nthe church.\n\nIn the external authority of the church the Holy Spirit acts as the\ninfallible interpreter and the criterion of the divine revelation. He\nacts in the heart as giving divine life and sanctification.\n\nThe Holy Spirit, who, by means of the teachings of the church,\ncommunicates divine truth, is the same Spirit which teaches the heart to\nreceive rightly the divine truth which he deigns to teach. The measure\nof our love for the Holy Spirit is the measure of our obedience to\nthe authority of the church; and the measure of our obedience to the\nauthority of the church is the measure of our love for the Holy Spirit.\nWhence the saying of S. Augustine: _Quantum quisque amat ecclesiam Dei,\ntantum habet Spiritum Sanctum_.\n\nIt is remarkable that no pope has done so much for the despised rights of\nhuman reason as Pope Pius IX.; that no council has done better service\nto science than that of the Vatican, none has better regulated its\nrelations to the faith; that none has better defined in their fundamental\nprinciples the relations of the natural and the supernatural; and the\nwork of the pontiff and of the council is not yet finished.\n\nEvery apology for Christianity must henceforth make great account of the\nintrinsic proofs of religion, without which people of the world would be\nmore and more drawn to see the church only on her human side.\n\nThe Holy Spirit, by means of the sacraments, consummates the union of\nthe soul of the believer with God. It is this end which true religion\nshould pursue. The placing in relief the internal life, and the\nconstitution of the church, and the intelligible side of the mysteries\nof the church--in short, the intrinsic reasons of the truths of the\ndivine revelation combined with the external motive of credibility--will\ncomplete the demonstration of Christianity. Such an exposition of\nChristianity, founded on the union of these two categories of proofs,\nwill have the effect of producing a more enlightened and intense\nconviction of religion in the souls of the faithful, and of stimulating\nthem to more energetic action; and it will have, as its last result,\nthe opening of the door to their wandering brethren, and gathering them\nback into the bosom of the church. With the vigorous co-operation of the\nfaithful, the ever-augmenting action of the Holy Spirit will raise the\nhuman personality to such an intensity of strength and greatness that\nthere will result from it a new era for the church and for society--an\nadmirable era, which it would be difficult to describe in human\nexpressions, without having recourse to the prophetic language of the\ninspired Scriptures.\n\nII. _The Mission of Races._--In pursuing his study upon the action of the\nHoly Spirit in the world, the author says that a wider and more explicit\nexposition of the dogmatic and moral verities of the church, with a view\nto the characteristic gifts of every race, is the means to employ in\norder to realize the hopes he has conceived.\n\nGod is the author of the different races of men. For known reasons of\nhis providence, he has impressed on them certain characteristic traits,\nand has assigned to them from the beginning the places which they should\noccupy in his church.\n\nIn a matter in which delicate susceptibilities have to be carefully\nhandled, it is important not to exaggerate the special gifts of every\nrace, and, on the other hand, not to depreciate them or exaggerate their\nvices.\n\nIt would, however, be a serious error, in speaking of the providential\nmission of the races, to suppose that they were destined to mark with\ntheir imprint religion, Christianity, or the church. It is, on the\ncontrary, God who makes the gifts and qualities with which he has endowed\nthem co-operate in the expression and development of the truths which he\ncreated for them.\n\nNevertheless, no one can deny the mission of the Latin and Celtic races\nthroughout the greater part of the history of Christianity. The first\nfact which manifested their mission and established the influence they\nwere to exercise was the establishment of the chair of S. Peter at\nRome, the centre of the Latin race. To Rome appertained the idea of the\nadministrative and governmental organization of the whole world. Rome was\nregarded as the geographical centre of the world.\n\nThe Greeks having abandoned the church for schism, and the Saxons having\nrevolted against her by heresy in the XVIth century, the predominance\nwhich the Latin race, united later on to the Celtic race, assumed in her\nbosom, became more and more marked.\n\nThis absence of the Greeks and of a considerable part of the\nSaxons--nations whose prejudices and tendencies are in many respects\nsimilar--left the ground more free for the church to complete her action,\nwhether by her ordinary or normal development, or by the way of councils,\nas that of Trent and that of the Vatican.\n\nThat which characterizes the Latin and Celtic races, according to our\nauthor, is their hierarchical, traditional, and emotional tendencies.\n\nHe means, doubtless, by this latter expression, that those races are very\nsusceptible to sensible impressions--to those which come from without.\n\nAs to the hierarchical sentiment of the Celtic and Latin races, it\nappears to us that for upwards of a century it has been much weakened, if\nit be not completely extinct.\n\nIn the following passage the author is not afraid to say of the Saxon\nrace:\n\n    \u201cIt is precisely the importance given to the external\n    constitution and to the accessories of the church which\n    excited the antipathies of the Saxons, which culminated in\n    the so-called Reformation. For the Saxon races and the mixed\n    Saxons, the English and their descendants, predominate in the\n    rational element, in an energetic individuality, and in great\n    practical activity in the material order.\u201d\n\nOne might have feared, perhaps, a kind of hardihood arising from a\ncertain national partiality in regard to which the author would find it\ndifficult to defend himself against his _half-brethren_ of Germany, if he\nhad not added:\n\n    \u201cOne of the chief defects of the Saxon mind lay in not fully\n    understanding the constitution of the church, or sufficiently\n    appreciating the essential necessity of her external\n    organization. Hence their misinterpretation of the providential\n    action of the Latin-Celts, and their charges against the\n    church of formalism, superstition, and popery. They wrongfully\n    identified the excesses of those races with the church of God.\n    They failed to take into sufficient consideration the great\n    and constant efforts the church had made in her national and\n    general councils to correct the abuses and extirpate the vices\n    which formed the staple of their complaints.\n\n    \u201cConscious, also, of a certain feeling of repression of their\n    natural instincts, while this work of the Latin-Celts was\n    being perfected, they at the same time felt a great aversion\n    to the increase of externals in outward worship, and to the\n    minute regulations in discipline, as well as to the growth of\n    papal authority and the outward grandeur of the papal court.\n    The Saxon leaders in heresy of the XVIth century, as well as\n    those of our own day, cunningly taking advantage of those\n    antipathies, united with selfish political considerations,\n    succeeded in making a large number believe that the question\n    in controversy was not what it really was--a question; namely,\n    between Christianity and infidelity--but a question between\n    Romanism and Germanism!\n\n    \u201cIt is easy to foresee the result of such a false issue; for it\n    is impossible, humanly speaking, that a religion can maintain\n    itself among a people when once they are led to believe it\n    wrongs their natural instincts, is hostile to their national\n    development, or is unsympathetic with their genius.\n\n    \u201cWith misunderstandings, weaknesses, and jealousies on both\n    sides, these, with various other causes, led thousands and\n    millions of Saxons and Anglo-Saxons to resistance, hatred,\n    and, finally, open revolt against the authority of the church.\n\n    \u201cThe same causes which mainly produced the religious rebellion\n    of the XVIth century are still at work among the Saxons, and\n    are the exciting motives of their present persecutions against\n    the church.\n\n    \u201cLooking through the distorted medium of their Saxon\n    prejudices, grown stronger with time, and freshly stimulated by\n    the recent definition of Papal Infallibility, they have worked\n    themselves into the belief--seeing the church only on the\n    outside, as they do--that she is purely a human institution,\n    grown slowly, by the controlling action of the Latin-Celtic\n    instincts, through centuries, to the present formidable\n    proportions. The doctrines, the sacraments, the devotions,\n    the worship of the Catholic Church, are, for the most part,\n    from their stand-point, corruptions of Christianity, having\n    their source in the characteristics of the Latin-Celtic races.\n    The papal authority, to their sight, is nothing else than the\n    concentration of the sacerdotal tendencies of these races,\n    carried to their culminating point by the recent Vatican\n    definition, which was due, in the main, to the efforts and the\n    influence exerted by the Jesuits. This despotic ecclesiastical\n    authority, which commands a superstitious reverence and servile\n    submission to all its decrees, teaches doctrines inimical to\n    the autonomy of the German Empire, and has fourteen millions\n    or more of its subjects under its sway, ready at any moment\n    to obey, at all hazards, its decisions. What is to hinder\n    this Ultramontane power from issuing a decree, in a critical\n    moment, which will disturb the peace and involve, perhaps, the\n    overthrow of that empire, the fruit of so great sacrifices,\n    and the realization of the ardent aspirations of the Germanic\n    races? Is it not a dictate of self-preservation and political\n    prudence to remove so dangerous an element, and that at all\n    costs, from the state? Is it not a duty to free so many\n    millions of our German brethren from this superstitious yoke\n    and slavish subjection? Has not divine Providence bestowed the\n    empire of Europe upon the Saxons, and placed us Prussians at\n    its head, in order to accomplish, with all the means at our\n    disposal, this great work? Is not this a duty which we owe to\n    ourselves, to our brother Germans, and, above all, to God? This\n    supreme effort is our divine mission!\u201d\n\nIt would be impossible to enter into the idea of the Bismarckian policy\nin a manner more ingenious, more exact, and more striking.\n\nIt is by presenting to Germany this monstrous counterfeit of the church\nthat they have succeeded in provoking its hatred of her, and the new\nempire proposes to be itself the resolution of a problem which can be\nonly formulated thus: \u201cEither adapt Latin Christianity, the Romish\nChurch, to the Germanic type of character and to the exigences of\nthe empire, or we will employ all the forces and all the means at\nour disposal to stamp out Catholicity within our dominions, and to\nexterminate its existence as far as our authority and influence extend.\u201d\n\nThis war against the Catholic religion is formidable, and ought not to\nleave us without alarm and without terror.\n\nTruth is powerful, it is said, and it will prevail. But truth has no\npower of itself, in so far as it is an abstraction. It has none, except\non the condition of coming forth and showing itself living in minds and\nhearts.\n\nWhat is to be done, then?\n\nNo thought can be entertained for a moment of modifying Catholic dogmas,\nof altering the constitution of the church, or of entering, to ever so\nsmall an extent, on the path of concessions. What is needed is to present\nreligious truth to minds in such a manner as that they shall be able to\nsee that it is divine. It is to prove to them that our religion alone\nis in harmony with the profoundest instincts of their hearts, and can\nalone realize their secret aspirations, which Protestantism has no power\nto satisfy. For that, the Holy Spirit must be invoked in order that he\nmay develop the interior life of the church, and that this development\nmay be rendered visible to the persecutors themselves, who hitherto see\nnothing in her but what is terrestrial and human. Already a certain\nideal conception of Christianity exists amongst non-Catholics of England\nand of the United States, and puts them in the way of a more complete\nconversion. As to the Saxons, who, in these days, precipitate themselves\nupon an opposite course, we should try to enlighten their blindness.\nAlready we have seen the persecutors, whether Roman or German, become\nthemselves Christian in their turn. We shall see the Germans of our days\nexhibiting the same spectacle. It is a great race, that German race. Now,\n\u201cthe 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.\u201d\n\nAlready we can perceive a very marked return movement amongst the\ndemi-Saxons, or Anglo-Saxons. It is a great sign of the times.\n\nAt different epochs there have been movements of this kind in England.\nBut none exhibited features so serious as that of which we are witnesses\nin these days. Conversions to the church multiply without number, above\nall amongst the most intelligent and influential classes of the nation;\nand that in spite of the violent cry of alarm raised by Lord John\nRussell, and in spite of the attacks of the ex-minister Gladstone, who\nhas the reputation of being the most eloquent man in England.\n\nThe gravitation towards the Catholic Church exhibits itself in a manner\nstill more general and more clear in the bosom of the United States.\n\nThe Catholics in that country amounted to scarcely a few hundreds at the\ncommencement of this century. They form now a sixth of the population of\nthe United States. They number about 7,000,000. And the Catholic is the\nonly religion which makes any real progress.\n\nIt is, then, true \u201cthat the Catholic religion flourishes and prospers\nwherever human nature has its due liberty. Let them but give to the\nchurch rights only equal to those of other confessions, and freedom of\naction, and we should see her regain Europe, and, with Europe, the world.\u201d\n\nNow, might we not conclude that these two demi-Saxon nations, England\nand the United States, are predestined by Providence to lead the Saxons\nthemselves in a vast movement of return towards the Catholic Church?\n\nBefore concluding, the author returns to the Latin and Celtic nations,\nand directs towards them a sorrowful glance.\n\nAs for France, he regrets that a violent reaction against the abuses of\nthe ancient r\u00e9gime, of which he gives a somewhat exaggerated picture, has\nbrought about an irreligious revolution and a political situation which\noscillates ceaselessly between anarchy and despotism, and despotism and\nanarchy. He deplores still more that the progressive movement has been\ndiverted from its course in Spain and in Italy by the evil principles\nimported from France.\n\n\u201cAt this moment,\u201d says the author, \u201cChristianity is in danger, on the one\nhand, of being exterminated by the persecution of the Saxon races; on the\nother, of being betrayed by the apostasy of the Celto-Latins. This is the\ngreat tribulation of the church at the present time. Between these two\nperils she labors painfully.\u201d\n\nAccording to human probabilities, the divine bark should be on the point\nof perishing. But perish it cannot. God cannot abandon the earth to the\nspirit of evil. \u201cJesus Christ came to establish the kingdom of God on the\nearth, as a means of conducting men to the kingdom of God in heaven.\u201d\n\nIt is thus, in his last chapter, our author surveys the future:\n\n    \u201cDuring the last three centuries, from the nature of the work\n    the church had to do, the weight of her influence had to be\n    mainly exerted on the side of restraining human activity.\n    Her present and future influence, due to the completion\n    of her external organization, will be exerted on the side\n    of soliciting increased action. The first was necessarily\n    repressive and unpopular; the second will be, on the contrary,\n    expansive and popular. The one excited antagonism; the other\n    will attract sympathy and cheerful co-operation. The former\n    restraint was exercised, not against human activity, but\n    against the exaggeration of that activity. The future will be\n    the solicitation of the same activity towards its elevation and\n    divine expansion, enhancing its fruitfulness and glory.\n\n    \u201cThese different races of Europe and the United States,\n    constituting the body of the most civilized nations of the\n    world, united in an intelligent appreciation of the divine\n    character of the church, with their varied capacities and the\n    great agencies at their disposal, would be the providential\n    means of rapidly spreading the light of faith over the whole\n    world, and of constituting a more Christian state of society.\n\n    \u201cIn this way would be reached a more perfect realization of\n    the prediction of the prophets, of the promises and prayers of\n    Christ, and of the true aspiration of all noble souls.\n\n    \u201cThis is what the age is calling for, if rightly understood, in\n    its countless theories and projects of reform.\u201d\n\nThe zealous religious who is the author of this important manifesto\ntraversed the seas in order to submit it to the Holy Father. [A mistake.\nFather Hecker went to Europe for other reasons, and took advantage of\nthe opportunity to submit his pamphlet to the examination of the Roman\ncensors and other eminent theologians.] If we are well informed, the\nRoman Curia found in it neither error nor rashness.[172] It is a complete\nplan of action proposed to the apostolate of the church for the future.\nThe old era would close, a new one would open.\n\nOn this ground all ancient differences should disappear. Bitter and\nuseless recriminations would be laid aside. All would be moving towards\nthe same future, in accord not only as to the end, but as to the means.\n\n(From _Le Monde_.)\n\nThe _Culturkampf_ advances daily. Its war-cry in precipitating itself\nupon the church, bent upon her destruction, is: \u201cThe doctrine of\ninfallibility has made spiritual slaves of Catholics, who are thus a\nhindrance to civilization.\u201d In presence of so furious an attack, every\nvoice which suggests means of safety deserves our best attention.\n\nOf this kind is a pamphlet published lately in London, and which has been\nalready translated into French, German, and Italian, and of which the\njournals of different countries, of the most opposite views, have given\nvery favorable opinions.\n\nThe lamented M. Ravelet would, had he been spared, have introduced it\nto the readers of the _Monde_; for he had met its author at Rome, and\nknew how to appreciate the breadth of his views. Father Hecker, its\nauthor, the founder of the Paulists of New York, is celebrated in his\ncountry for a style of polemics admirably adapted to the genius of his\nfellow-countrymen. Does he understand Europe, to which he has made\nprolonged visits, equally well? On that point our readers will soon be\nable to judge.\n\nHow is it that the Catholic religion, which reckons more adherents\nthan any other Christian religion, does not succeed in making itself\nrespected? Evidently because many Catholics are not on a level with the\nfaith which they profess. \u201cWe want heroes,\u201d said J. de Maistre at the\nbeginning of our century. At this moment is not the demand the same?\nThere is no lack of religious practices; a number of exterior acts of\nexterior piety are performed; but the interior life of souls is not\nexalted; they seem to be afflicted with a kind of spiritual dyspepsia.\nThe crises which threaten terrify them, instead of inflaming beforehand\ntheir courage and their confidence in God. It is in the sources of\nreligion itself we shall find energy; it is to them we must betake\nourselves to reinvigorate our strength, in the direct action of God\nupon our consciences, and in the operation of the Holy Spirit upon our\nsouls. From this source issues the true religious life, and our external\npractices are availing only so far as they are inspired by this internal\nprinciple, itself inspired by the Spirit of God. Herein are the primal\nverities of Christianity. At every epoch of decadence the voices of\nsaints remind the world of them; the spirit of the church inclines us to\nthem; but, distracted by external agitations, we forget to correspond\nwith its suggestions. We do not possess enough of God! Here is our\nweakness. A little more of divinity within us! Lo, the remedy!\n\nFather Hecker has well written upon the gifts of the Holy Spirit, and\nupon the men our age wants. Intelligences illuminated from on high,\nwills divinely strengthened--is not that what is wanted to maintain the\nstruggle? Is he not right when he asserts that one soul adorned with\nthese gifts would do more to promote the kingdom of God than a thousand\ndeprived of them?\n\nThis urgent call to a more intensely spiritual life will touch Christian\nhearts. But the pamphlet foresees an objection. Does not this development\nof our faculties and of our initiative under the divine influence expose\nus to some of the dangers of Protestantism? Do we not run the risk of the\nappearance of strong individualities who, filled with their own ideas,\nwill think themselves more enlightened than the church, and so be seduced\ninto disobeying her authority?\n\nThis eternal question of the relation of liberty to authority! Catholics\nsay to Protestants: \u201cLiberty without the control of the divine authority\nof the church leads insensibly to the destruction of Christianity.\u201d\nProtestants reply: \u201cAuthority amongst you has stifled liberty. You have\npreserved the letter of the dogmas; but spiritual life perishes under\nyour formalism.\u201d We are not estimating the weight of these reproaches; we\nmerely state the danger. The solution of the religious problem consists\nin avoiding either extreme.\n\nNo Catholic is at liberty to doubt that the Holy Spirit acts directly in\nthe soul of every Christian, and at the same time acts in another way,\nindirect, but no less precious, by means of the authority of the church.\nCardinal Manning has written two treatises on this subject, one on the\nexternal, the other on the internal, working of the Holy Spirit. It is\nthese two workings which Father Hecker endeavors to connect in a lofty\nsynthesis, and this is the main object of his work.\n\nThe first step of the synthesis is the statement that it is one and the\nsame spirit which works, whether by external authority or by the interior\nimpulse of the soul, and that these two workings, issuing from a common\nprinciple, must agree in their exercise and blend in their final result.\nThe liberty of the soul should not dispute the authority of the church,\nbecause that authority is divine; the church, on the other hand, cannot\noppress the liberty of the soul, because that liberty is also divine.\nThe second step is to prove that the interior action of the Holy Spirit\nin the soul alone accomplishes our inward sanctification and our union\nwith God. The authority of the church, and, generally, the external\nobservances of religion, having only for their aim to second this\ninterior action, authority and external practices occupy only a secondary\nand subordinate place in the Catholic system, contrary to the notion of\nProtestants, who accuse us of sacrificing Jesus Christ to the church,\nand of limiting Christianity to her external action. The completion of\nthe synthesis is in the following: The individual has not received for\nhis interior life the promise of infallibility; it is to Peter and his\nsuccessors--that is to say, to the church--that Jesus Christ has conceded\nthis privilege. The Christian thus cannot be sure of possessing the Holy\nSpirit, excepting in so far as he is in union with the infallible church,\nand that union is the certain sign that the union of the two workings of\nthe Holy Spirit is realized in him.\n\nWe have no doubt that this theory is one of the most remarkable\ntheological and philosophical conceptions of our age. Father Hecker is no\ninnovator, but he seizes scattered ideas and gathers them into a sheaf of\nluminous rays; and this operation, which seems so simple, is the result\nof thirty years\u2019 laborious meditation. One must read the pamphlet itself\nto appreciate its worth. The more we are versed in the problems which\nagitate contemporary religious thought, the better we shall understand\nthe importance of what it inculcates.\n\nWe shall briefly dispose of the application the author makes of his\nsynthesis. One most ingenious one is that Protestantism, by denying the\nauthority of the church, obliges her to put forth all her strength in\nits defence.\n\nIf Luther had attacked liberty, the church would have taken another\nattitude, and would have defended with no less energy the free and direct\naction of the Holy Spirit in souls. It is this necessary defence of\ndivine authority which gave birth to the Jesuit order, and which explains\nthe special spirit which animates that society. If, however, the defence\nof assailed authority has been, for three centuries, the principal\npreoccupation of the church, she has not on that account neglected the\ninterior life of souls. It is sufficient to name the spirituality, so\ndeep and so intense, of S. Philip Neri, S. Francis of Sales, S. John of\nthe Cross, and S. Teresa. Moreover, does not the support of authority\ncontribute to the free life of souls by maintaining the infallible\ncriterion for testing, in cases of doubt, the true inspirations of the\nHoly Spirit?\n\nThe church, in these days, resembles a nation which marches to its\nfrontiers to repel the invasion of the foreigner and protect its national\nlife; its victory secured, it recalls its forces to the centre, to\ncontinue with security and ardor the development of that same life.\n\nAccording to Father Hecker, the church was in the last extremity of\nperil. He sees in the proclamation of the infallibility of the Pope the\ncompletion of the development of authority provoked by the Reformation,\nand believes that nothing now remains but its application.\n\nIf, since the XVIth century, external action has predominated in the\nchurch, without, however, ever becoming exclusive, so now the internal\nworking will predominate, always leaving to the external its legitimate\nshare. Only, this new phase will be, in a way, more normal than the\npreceding, because, in religion as in man, the internal infinitely\nsurpasses the external, without, however, annihilating it, as does\nProtestantism. This internal is the essence of Christianity; it is the\nkingdom of heaven within us, and whose frontiers it is our duty to\nextend. It is the treasure, the hidden pearl, the grain of mustard-seed,\nof the Gospel. It is to this interior of the soul that our Lord addressed\nthe beatitudes of the Sermon on the Mount. The external church--the\npriesthood, the worship, the sacraments--are only means divinely\ninstituted to help the weakness of man to rise to the worship in spirit\nand in truth announced by our Saviour to the Samaritan woman. And the\ntime has come for a fuller expansion of this internal life, for the more\ngeneral development of the spirit of S. Francis of Sales and of the other\nsaints of whom we spoke above.\n\nAs to those outside the church, they will never believe in this\nevolution, because they suppose that the doctrine of infallibility has\ncondemned us to a kind of petrifaction. But if they study the actual\nsituation, events will undeceive them from this present moment.\n\nThe persecutions which deprive the church of her temporalities, of her\nexterior worship, of her religious edifices, which go the length even of\ndepriving the faithful of their priests and bishops, which suppress as\nfar as they can the external part of Catholicity, do they not reveal the\npower of its interior?\n\nIn the parts of Switzerland and Germany where the populations are robbed\nof their clergy and worship, do we not see faith developing in sacrifice,\nand piety becoming more serious and fervent in the privation of all\nexternal aid? This example is an additional proof of the opportuneness\nof Father Hecker\u2019s pamphlet. If God wills that the persecution should\nincrease, we must be prepared to do without the external means which he\nhimself has instituted, and which he accords to us in ordinary times. For\nwe must not forget that no human power can separate us from God, and that\nso long as this union exists religion remains entire as to its substance.\n\nThe merit of the Christian is in the intention which inspires his acts.\nReligion exists only in the idea which clothes its rites; the sacraments,\nthe channels of grace, are only effective in us as they are preceded by\nthe dispositions of our soul. For a religion not to degenerate, it must\nperpetually renew the internal life, in order to resist the encroachments\nof routine.\n\nHere the author asks what is the polemic best suited to help the people\nof these times to escape from their unbelief, which often proceeds from\nregarding the church as having fallen into formalism and into a debasing\nauthoritativism. He believes they might be undeceived by disclosing\nto them the inner life of religion and the internal proofs of her\ndivinity--an idea he shares with the most illustrious writers of our\nage. Lacordaire wrote to Mme. Swetchine that he had reversed the point\nof view of the controversy in scrutinizing matters from within, which\nmanifested truth under a new aspect.\n\nFather Hecker quotes in this sense the striking words of Schlegel: \u201cWe\nshall soon see, I think, an exposition of Christianity appear which will\nbring about union among all Christians, and convert the unbelieving\nthemselves.\u201d Ranke said with no less decision: \u201cThis reconciliation\nof faith and science will be more important, as regards its spiritual\nresults, than was the discovery, three centuries ago, of a new\nhemisphere, than that of the true system of the universe, or than that of\nany other discovery of science, be it what it may.\u201d\n\nThe pamphlet ends with a philosophy of race. And here the author, whilst\nacknowledging his fear of wounding susceptibilities, expresses the hope\nthat none of his views will be exaggerated. He inquires what natural\nelements the several races have offered to the church in the successive\nphases of her history; and, starting from the principle that God has\nendowed the races with different aptitudes, he examines in what way those\naptitudes may co-operate in the terrestrial execution of the designs of\nProvidence. The Latin-Celtic races, who almost alone remained faithful\nto the church in the XVIth century, have for authority and external\nobservances tastes which coincide with the more special development of\nthe church since that epoch.\n\nOn the contrary, the Anglo-Saxon races have subjective and metaphysical\ninstincts which, in a natural point of view, should attract them to the\nchurch in the new phase on which she is entering. Father Hecker has been\naccused with some asperity of predicting that the direction of the church\nand of the world will pass into the hands of the Saxon races, whose\nconversion, sooner or later, he anticipates. But he does not in any sense\ncondemn the Latin races to inferiority. He merely gives it as his opinion\nthat the Latin races can only issue from the present crisis by the\ndevelopment of that interior life of independent reason and deliberate\nvolition which constitutes the force of the Saxon races. God has not\ngiven the church to the Latin races. He has not created for nothing the\nSaxon, Sclavonic, and other races which cover the surface of the globe.\nThey have their predestined place in the assembly of all the children of\nGod, and are called to serve the church according to their providential\naptitudes.\n\nFather Hecker and Dr. Newman are not the only ones who think that the\nabsence of the Saxon races has been, for some centuries, very prejudicial\nto the church. J. de Maistre, whose bias cannot be suspected, expressed\nhimself even more explicitly to that effect. The Latin genius, under the\ninspiration of the Holy Spirit, has been and will continue to be of the\nutmost value to the church. Under the divine influence, the Saxon genius\nwill, in its way, effect equally precious conquests.\n\nIn conclusion, we summarize thus the ideas of Father Hecker:\n\n1. We have need of a spiritual awakening.\n\n2. The definition of infallibility has lent such strength to the church\nthat henceforth personality may become as powerful as possible without\nthe risk, as in the XVIth century, of injuring unity.\n\n3. This definition having completed the external system of Catholicity,\nthe initiative of the church proceeds logically to concentrate itself on\nthe aggrandizement of the interior life, which is the essence of religion.\n\n4. This is proved by the persecutions, which augment and strengthen the\nreligious life of Catholics.\n\n5. The result of these persecutions will be to unveil to Protestants and\nunbelievers the interior view of Catholicity, and to prepare the way for\nreligious unity.\n\n6. This unity will be effected when Protestants and unbelievers see\nthat Catholicity, far from being opposed to the aspirations of their\nnature, understands them and satisfies them better than Protestantism and\nfree-thinking.\n\n7. This expansion of Catholicity advances slowly, because it meets few\nsouls great enough to admit of the full development of its working, and\nof showing what it is capable of producing in them.\n\n8. The way to multiply these souls is to place ourselves more and more\nunder the influence of the Holy Spirit.\n\nWhatever opinion may be formed of certain details, on the whole, this\nwork manifests a high grade of philosophical thought and theological\ninsight. But to appreciate it fully it must be read and studied.\n\nExceptions have been taken to it, on the ground that one meets nothing in\nit but theories, without any practical conclusion. Yet what can be more\npractical than the exhortation which confronts us on every page, to seek\nin all our religious acts, in sacraments, worship, and discipline, the\ndivine intention involved therein? What more practical than to urge us to\ndevelop all the forces of our nature under the divine influence, and to\ntell us that the more conscientious, reasonable, and manly we are, the\nmore completely men we are, so much the more favorable ground will the\nchurch find within us for her working?\n\nFar from urging any abrupt change, Father Hecker recommends that\neverything should be done with prudence, consideration being had for\nthe manners of every country. He is persuaded that, by placing more\nconfidence in the divine work in souls, they will become insensibly\nstronger, and will increase thus indefinitely the force and energy of\nthe whole body of the church. Such a future will present us with the\nspectacle of the conversion of peoples who at present are bitterly\nhostile to her--a future which we shall purchase at the cost of many\nsacrifices. But our trials will be full of consolations if we feel\nthat they are preparing a more general and abundant effusion of divine\nillumination upon the earth. _Per crucem ad lucem._\n\n    PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS OF LAMB, HAZLITT, AND OTHERS. The\n    Bric-\u00e0-Brac Series. Edited by R. H. Stoddard. New York:\n    Scribner, Armstrong & Co. 1875.\n\nThis volume is a compendium of one of those books of memoirs or\npersonal recollections bequeathed to us by the survivors of the\nEnglish Renaissance of the beginning of the century--_My Friends and\nAcquaintances_, by P. G. Patmore. This the editor has supplemented, in\nthe case of Hazlitt, by some letters and reminiscences culled from the\n_Memoirs_ published by his grandson, W. Carew Hazlitt. These works,\nit might be fairly supposed, would be of themselves light enough\nfor the most jaded and flippant appetite. However, the aid of the\n\u201ceditor\u201d is called in--heaven forgive the man who first applied that\ntitle, honored by a Scaliger and a Bentley, to the modern compiler of\nscandal!--the most entertaining and doubtfully moral tidbits are picked\nout; and the result is the class of books before us, which is doing\nfor the national intellect what pastry has done for its stomach. The\nmutual courtesies--honorable enough when rightly understood--existing\nbetween publishers and the periodical press make honest criticism seem\nungracious; and thus the public judgment is left uninstructed by silence,\nor its frivolous tastes are confirmed by careless approval.\n\nThe motives impelling the awful scissors of the \u201ceditor\u201d not only deprive\nthe original works which fall under them of the modicum of value they may\npossess, but affirmatively they do worse. They give an absolutely false\nimpression of the persons represented. Thus, in the case before us the\ncharacter and genius of Lamb are as ridiculously overrated as his true\nmerits are obscured; and the same may be said with even more justice\nof the portrait given of Hazlitt. Singularly enough, though the editor\nderives all he knows, or at least all he presents to the reader, from Mr.\nPatmore and Mr. Carew Hazlitt, he speaks in the most contemptuous terms\nof both. One he pronounces \u201cnot a man of note,\u201d and the other he terms,\nwith a delightful unconsciousness of self-irony, \u201ca bumptious bookmaker,\nprofusely addicted to scissors and paste\u201d; and both he bids, at parting,\nto \u201cmake room for their betters.\u201d If such be the character of Mr. Patmore\nand Mr. Hazlitt, what opinion, we may ask, is the reader called upon to\nentertain of the \u201ceditor\u201d who is an accident of their existence? Nor\nis it in relation only to the authors after whom he gleans that the\n\u201ceditor\u201d shows bad taste and self-sufficiency. The immortal author of the\n_Dunciad_, speaking of a kindred race of authors, tells us,\n\n    \u201cGlory and gain the industrious tribe provoke,\n    And gentle Dulness ever loves a joke.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe ricketty little papist, Pope,\u201d is the witticism the editor levels at\nthe brightest and most graceful poet of his age--a master and maker of\nour English tongue, and a scourge of just such dunces as himself.\n\nOf the writers whose habits and personal characteristics are treated\nof in this volume we have little or no room to speak, nor does the\nwork before us afford any sufficient basis to go upon. Lamb occupies\na niche in the popular pantheon, as an essayist, higher than posterity\nwill adjudge him. His essays are pleasing and witty, and the style is\nmarvellously pure; but they want solidity; they are idealistic, humorous,\nsubjective; they fail to present that faithful transcript of manners, or\nto teach in sober tones those lessons of morality, which make the older\nessayists enduring. Lamb\u2019s other works are already forgotten. He was an\namiable man in the midst of unhappy surroundings, and his unassuming\nmanners have enshrined his name with affection in the works of his\ncontemporaries.\n\nHazlitt\u2019s was not a character to be admired, nor in many ways even to be\nrespected. He was devoured with vanity and grosser passions. His work was\ntask-work, and therefore not high. \u2019Tis true Horace tells us,\n\n    \u201c\u2026 paupertas impulit audar\n    Ut versus facerem.\u201d\n\n--poverty has often been the sting which urged genius to its grandest\nefforts. But Hazlitt, though undoubtedly a man of genius, was not gifted\nwith that genius of the first order, which abstracts itself wholly from\nthe miserable circumstances about it. The great body of his work is\ncriticism, brilliant, entertaining, even instructive at the moment in\nwhich it was produced, but substantially only the fashion of a day.\n\nOf the poet Campbell and Lady Blessington it would be an impertinence to\nsay anything on the slight foundation this volume gives us.\n\nThe editor of the \u201cBric-\u00e0-Brac\u201d Series has placed on the cover of each\nvolume this motto:\n\n    \u201cInfinite riches in a little room.\u201d\n\nWe will suggest one that will take up even less room:\n\n    \u201cStultitiam patiuntur opes.\u201d\n\n    THE CIVIL GOVERNMENT OF THE STATES, AND THE CONSTITUTIONAL\n    HISTORY OF THE UNITED STATES. By P. Cudmore, Esq.,\n    Counsellor-at-Law, Author of the _Irish Republic_, etc., etc.\n    New York: P. Cudmore. 1875.\n\nThe author of this work informs us in the preface that his object\nhas been to condense into one volume the colonial, general, and\nconstitutional history of the United States. This volume professes to be\na digest of the writings and speeches of the fathers of the Constitution\nof the United States, the statutes of the several States, the statutes of\nthe United States, of the writings and speeches of eminent American and\nforeign jurists, the journals and annals of Congress, the _Congressional\nGlobe_, the general history of the United States, the decisions\nof the Supreme Courts of the several States, the opinions of the\nattorneys-general of the United States, and the decisions of the Supreme\nCourt of the United States; of extracts from De Tocqueville, the Madison\nPapers, the _Federalist_, Elliott\u2019s _Debates_, the writings of Jefferson,\nAdams, Hamilton, and Vattel, and of extracts from Jefferson and other\neminent authors on parliamentary law. The platforms of political parties\nare also given. This list is copied _verbatim_ from the author. It will\nbe seen, therefore, that Mr. Cudmore has set himself no contemptible\ntask to accomplish, and, as he has executed it in a thin octavo of 254\npages, it may reasonably be conjectured that he possesses a talent\nfor condensation that Montesquieu might have envied. Mr. Vallandigham\nfinds a powerful advocate in this author, and his philippics against\nMr. Stanton are proportionately severe. Mr. Cudmore has a fondness for\nnotes of exclamation; and such is the ardor of constitutionalism with\nwhich he pursues this latter-day \u201ctyrant of the blackest dye\u201d (we quote\nMr. Cudmore) that it often takes three notes of admiration to express\nhis just abhorrence of his measures. The bulk of the work is taken up\nby a civil and military history of the late conflict, and the disputes\nthat preceded it. If we might venture a hint to Mr. Cudmore, we would\nsay that his tone is a little too warm for this miserably phlegmatic\nage, which affects a fondness for impartiality in great constitutional\nwriters. The fact is, the questions which the author discusses with the\ngreatest spirit are dead issues. They still preserve a faint vitality\nfor the philosopher and speculative statesman, but they have sunk out of\nsight for the practical politician and man of to-day. The _vis major_ has\ndecided them. We might as usefully begin to agitate for a re-enactment of\nthe Agrarian Laws. Mr. Cudmore\u2019s Chapters IV. and V., containing a digest\nof State and Federal law, show much meritorious industry. The history of\nland-grants, the homestead law, and the laws pertaining to aliens and\nnaturalization, will be found useful.\n\n    THE YOUNG CATHOLIC\u2019S ILLUSTRATED TABLE-BOOK AND FIRST LESSONS\n    IN NUMBERS. New York: The Catholic Publication Society, 9\n    Warren St. 1875.\n\nThis is a very simple and attractive little book, designed to make\nthe beginning of arithmetic, which certainly is rather a dry study in\nitself, interesting and capable of fixing the attention of the very young\nchildren for whose use the work is intended. We do not remember having\nseen any prettier or more practical little text-book for beginners, and\ncannot recommend it too highly. It is also very nicely illustrated.\n\n    SADLIER\u2019S EXCELSIOR GEOGRAPHY, Nos. 1, 2, 3. New York: Wm. H.\n    Sadlier. 1875.\n\nAs a first attempt in this country to prepare a series of geographies\nadapted to Catholic schools this is deserving of great praise. The type\nis clear, the maps and illustrations, and the mechanical execution\ngenerally, are excellent. It is based, to some extent, on a geographical\ncourse originally known as Monteith\u2019s, and adapted by the insertion\nof additional matter interesting to Catholics. What we should have\npreferred, and hope eventually to see, is a series of geographies and\nhistories entirely original, and written from the Catholic point of view,\nand pervaded by the Catholic tone which we find in this.\n\n    SEVENOAKS: A Story of To-day. By J. G. Holland, author of\n    _Arthur Bonnicastle_. New York: Scribner, Armstrong & Co. 1875.\n\nIt gives us great pleasure to express, with slight qualifications, our\nentire approval of this work, so far as its moral purport is concerned.\nIts plot and incidents are all within the range of ordinary life and\nexperience, and therefore not calculated to foster in the youthful reader\nextravagant anticipations in regard to his own future. There are many\ngood hits at the weaknesses and inconsistencies of human nature, and\nfaithful pictures of the vices and miseries to which an unscrupulous\nambition leads. Selfishness and injustice prosper for a time, but\neventually reap their reward; while integrity and true manliness, even in\nthe rude and uncultivated, are recognized and appreciated.\n\n    THE ILLUSTRATED CATHOLIC FAMILY ALMANAC FOR 1876. New York: The\n    Catholic Publication Society.\n\n\u201cAlmanac,\u201d when applied to this publication, seems to us a misnomer.\nThe popular notion of an almanac is a thin, badly-printed pamphlet,\ncontaining incomprehensible astrological tables, delusive prophecies\nas to the weather, tradesmen\u2019s advertisements, and a padding of stale\njokes or impracticable recipes gathered from country newspapers; whereas\nthe _Illustrated Catholic Family Almanac_ is an annual of 144 pages,\ncontaining each year enough solid, well-digested information to furnish\nforth an ordinary volume of three hundred pages, to say nothing of the\nmany fine engravings--and this, too, at a price which should extend its\ncirculation to equal that of the once-famous _Moore\u2019s Almanac_ (published\nin England about the beginning of the XVIIIth century), which is said at\none time to have sold annually more than four hundred thousand copies.\n\nThe several volumes of the _Family Almanac_ form a valuable manual for\nCatholics, containing, as they do, articles of great interest to the\nliterary student, the antiquarian, and the arch\u00e6ologist. Much of the\ninformation could be gathered only from exceedingly well-furnished\nlibraries; some of it appears here for the first time in print.\n\nIn the _Almanac_ for 1876, among other good things, we find an extended\nand very interesting biographical sketch of His Eminence Cardinal\nMcCloskey; also, biographical sketches of Cardinals Wiseman and Altieri,\nof Bishops Brut\u00e9 and Baraga, of Rev. Father Nerinckx and the Cura\nHidalgo--the Washington of the Mexican revolution--and of Eugene O\u2019Curry,\nthe eminent Irish scholar--all of these being illustrated with portraits.\nThe approaching centenary has not been forgotten, for in \u201cCentennial\nMemorials\u201d is shown the part--a glorious one, which received the public\nendorsement of the \u201cFather of his Country,\u201d as will be seen by perusal\nof the article--taken by Catholics of Irish origin in the Revolutionary\nstruggle. In the same article are numerous statistics showing the\ntemporal growth of our country during the century just closing; the\narticle closes with an account of the wonderful growth of the Catholic\nChurch during the same period--the whole being valuable for future\nreference. \u201cAbout the Bible\u201d and \u201cThe Bible in the Middle Ages\u201d contain\ninformation of interest to every Christian, and which is to be got\nelsewhere only by much reading; the latter article also contains an ample\nrefutation of the old slander that the Catholic Church of the middle\nages kept the Scriptures from the laity. Besides the foregoing, there is\nmuch curious and entertaining prose and verse, and several pictures of\nchurches and other edifices (among them one of old S. Augustine\u2019s Church,\nPhiladelphia, destroyed in the riots of 1844, and toward the building of\nwhich, in 1796, Washington contributed $150; Stephen Girard, $40; George\nMeade, father of Gen. Meade, $50; and Commodore Barry, $150), a complete\nand authentic list of the Roman pontiffs translated from the Italian,\nthe American hierarchy, and the usual astronomical and church calendars,\npostal guide, etc.\n\n    MADAME R\u00c9CAMIER AND HER FRIENDS. From the French of Madame\n    Lenormant. By the translator of Madame R\u00e9camier\u2019s _Memoirs_.\n    Boston: Roberts Brothers. 1875.\n\nThis volume will doubtless be welcome to those already familiar with the\n_Memoirs_ previously published. The work is largely made up of letters\nwhich are of no particular interest, except so far as they throw light\non the character of the writers. Endowed by nature with extraordinary\nbeauty, and possessing that knowledge of public events and skill in their\ninterpretation which seems a special gift of Frenchwomen, Mme. R\u00e9camier\nbecame the centre of an admiring group of statesmen and _litt\u00e9rateurs_\nwho sought the benefit of her intuitive wisdom.\n\nA very strong testimony to Mme. R\u00e9camier\u2019s many virtues is found in the\nwarm friendship which existed between herself and other ladies holding\na similar position in French society; in the loving devotion of the\nchild of her adoption, who subsequently became her biographer; and--in\nthe fear and jealousy of the First Napoleon, who paid her the compliment\nof a temporary exile. The personal attention she gave to her adopted\ndaughter\u2019s education is worthy of imitation.\n\n    WAYSIDE PENCILLINGS, WITH GLIMPSES OF SACRED SHRINES. By the\n    Rev. James J. Moriarty, A.M. Albany: Van Benthuysen Printing\n    House. 1875.\n\nFather Moriarty\u2019s work has one merit on which editors place a high\nvalue--brevity. A book of travels is not properly a history or topography\nof the countries visited, and a bird\u2019s-eye view of the most salient\nfeatures is all that we can reasonably ask at the traveller\u2019s hand.\nThe interlarded extracts with which some authors swell their volumes\nare often wearisome reading. In the above work the reverend traveller\nnarrates all the important incidents of his journey, with descriptions of\nthe various shrines on his route, in so picturesque a manner, and in so\nfew words, that the reader will have no difficulty in laying up in his\nmemory many pleasant subjects for reflection.\n\n    EIGHT COUSINS; OR, THE AUNT-HILL. By Louisa M. Alcott. Boston:\n    Roberts Brothers. 1875.\n\nAn entertaining volume for youthful readers, and one which conveys many\nuseful lessons. The same charming freshness which won for _Little Women_\nits wide reputation will render this volume a favorite, notwithstanding\nits defects--one of which is a spirit of self-assertion in the heroine\nwhich is only too true to nature in the average American girl. However\nreluctant we may be to acknowledge the fact, we cannot fail to see\nthat our so-called progress has had a tendency to weaken veneration\nfor age and respect for authority. Miss Alcott shows her sympathy with\nthis fault by sometimes placing age in a ludicrous light before her\njuvenile readers. The young people of this generation do not need any\nencouragement in the belief that age does not always bring wisdom, and we\nthe more regret this mistake in a book otherwise commendable. Destroy\nthe confidence and veneration with which childhood looks up to those\nplaced over it, and you rob parents of that which constitutes a great\ncharm in their offspring, and go far to break down the chief bulwark of\nsociety--the family.\n\n    MANUAL OF THE SISTERS OF CHARITY. A Collection of Prayers\n    compiled for the use of the Society of Sisters of Charity in\n    the Diocese of Louisville, Kentucky. Adapted to general use.\n    Baltimore: J. Murphy & Co. 1875.\n\nThis is a new volume added to the already large devotional literature of\nthe church. As its title imports, it was prepared especially with a view\nto the wants of the daughters of St. Vincent, though adapted to those of\nother religious, and of persons in the world. As it bears the imprimatur\nof the Archbishop of Baltimore, and has the approval of the Bishop\nof Louisville, and, in addition, has had the benefit of Mr. Murphy\u2019s\ncareful _proofreading_--a matter the importance of which can scarcely be\nover-estimated in devotional works--we deem further comment unnecessary.\nWe would, however, suggest whether the use of a somewhat thinner paper\nwould not make a better proportioned volume.\n\n    MISCELLANEA: Comprising Reviews, Lectures, and Essays on\n    Historical, Theological, and Miscellaneous Subjects. By M. J.\n    Spalding, D.D., Archbishop of Baltimore. Sixth Edition, revised\n    and greatly enlarged. 1875.\n\nThe publishers have added to the value of this edition by incorporating\nin it a number of papers not contained in previous editions, and which\nhad received the author\u2019s last corrections. Few writers of the present\ncentury in the English language have done more to popularize Catholic\nthemes and relieve Protestants from the misconceptions which they had\npreviously entertained regarding the history and doctrines of the church,\nthan the late Archbishop of Baltimore. Those who have not previously\npossessed themselves of his admirable works have a new motive in the\nimprovements now made.\n\n    A FULL COURSE OF INSTRUCTION IN EXPLANATION OF THE CATECHISM.\n    By Rev. J. Perry. St. Louis: P. Fox. 1875.\n\nThe present edition of Perry\u2019s _Instructions_ differs from the original\none in the addition of questions, thus making it a text-book for advanced\nclasses, whereas its use was heretofore limited in a great measure to\nteachers. The editor (Rev. E. M. Hennessey) has also incorporated an\nexplanation of the doctrines of the Immaculate Conception and Papal\nInfallibility.\n\n\nBOOKS AND PAMPHLETS RECEIVED.\n\n    From P. Donahoe, Boston: Theologia Moralis Novissimi Ecclesi\u00e6\n    Doctoris, S. Alphonsi, in Compendium Redacta et Usui\n    Venerabilis Cleri Americani Accommodata, Auctore A. Konings,\n    C.SS.R. Pars Tertia: Continens tractatus de Sacramentis, de\n    Censuris, de Irregularitatibus, et de Indulgentiis. 8vo, paper,\n    pp. x., 433.\n\n    From P. O\u2019Shea, New York: Lives of the Saints, with a practical\n    Instruction on the Life of each Saint for every day in the\n    year. By F. X. Weninger, D.D., S.J. Part iv., 8vo, pp. 127,\n    flexible cloth.--Life and Letters of Paul Seigneret, Seminarist\n    of S. Sulpice, translated from the French by N. R. 12mo, pp.\n    311.\n\n    From the Author: The Sunday Laws: A Discussion of Church and\n    State, etc. By S. B. McCracken. 8vo, pp. 8, paper.\n\n    From P. F. Cunningham, Philadelphia: Life of S. Benedict,\n    surnamed \u201cThe Moor.\u201d The Son of a Slave. From the French of M.\n    Allebert. 18mo, pp. 213.\n\n\n\n\nTHE CATHOLIC WORLD.\n\nVOL. XXII., No. 130.--JANUARY, 1876.\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 PRESIDENT\u2019S SPEECH AT DES MOINES.\n\nThe utterances of any person occupying so lofty a station as that of\nPresident of the United States demand attention and respect, by reason\nof the source from whence they emanate. The deliberate judgments of\nsuch a man as President Grant have in themselves a special claim to\nthe consideration of his fellow-citizens. He has had opportunities to\nstudy the length and breadth of the land. His private convictions have\nmatured amidst the most varied experience of all classes and sections of\nour people--first in a profession affording ample leisure and abundant\nmeans of observation from an independent stand-point, and afterwards\nin commercial life, which placed him in the midst of daily events, no\nlonger as a theorist, but as one actively concerned in their course and\ndevelopment. His position in military affairs has been that of one of the\nmost celebrated commanders of the age, and his political career has been\nthat of an independent statesman, always wielding supreme influence, and\nquite beyond the need of vulgar trickery, in order to maintain its power.\nHaving almost completed an illustrious public life, he is now able to\nexpress the results of his observations, and no one can lightly question\nthe validity of his conclusions. The country is prepared to receive\nanything he may have to say to it, with solicitous, intelligent, and\nearnest consideration.\n\nThose who may differ from him in political convictions, or who may retain\na partiality for some of his less successful competitors for the highest\nprize of military glory, and even those who go so far as to question his\ngreatness--all must admit that he is a true American, formed and moulded\nby the events in which he has moved, and truly representing the country\nand the times.\n\nWe are disposed, therefore, to attach the fullest importance to his\nwords, whether spoken officially or from the convictions of his heart,\nand to ponder them respectfully and thoughtfully.\n\nOn the 29th of September last His Excellency attended, at Des Moines,\nthe capital city of Iowa, a convention of the \u201cArmy of the Tennessee,\u201d\none of those military organizations composed of veterans of the late war.\nThe nature of these and kindred associations is not political. Their aim\nis to keep up a brotherly spirit among those who formerly stood shoulder\nto shoulder on the battle-field. Nevertheless, the gallant men, who thus\nrisked life and limb for the integrity of the national government, are\nsupposed to retain their patriotism, and to look with pride and zeal\nupon the continuance and healthy growth of those institutions, which are\nvitally connected with the nation\u2019s greatness.\n\nIn the midst of such an assembly, composed of men of all creeds, our\nchief magistrate felt called upon to utter a prophetic warning, which has\nexcited much comment at home, and has been extensively published abroad.\nWe print his speech, delivered at the evening session of the \u201cArmy of the\nTennessee,\u201d as currently reported in the daily press. President Grant,\nbeing called for, came forward and said:\n\n    \u201cCOMRADES: It always affords me much gratification to meet\n    my comrades in arms of ten and fourteen years ago, and to\n    tell over again from memory the trials and hardships of\n    those days--of hardships imposed for the preservation and\n    perpetuation of our free institutions. We believed then, and\n    we believe now, that we have a government worth fighting for,\n    and, if need be, dying for. How many of our comrades paid the\n    latter price for our preserved Union! Let their heroism and\n    sacrifice be ever green in our memory. Let not the result\n    of their sacrifices be destroyed. The Union and the free\n    institutions for which they died should be held more dear for\n    their sacrifices. We will not deny to any of those who fought\n    against us any privilege under the government which we claim\n    for ourselves. On the contrary, we welcome all such who come\n    forward in good faith to help build up the waste places, and to\n    perpetuate our institutions against all enemies, as brothers\n    in full interest with us in a common heritage; but we are not\n    prepared to apologize for the part we took in the war.\n\n    \u201cIt is to be hoped that like trials will never again befall\n    our country. In this sentiment no class of people can more\n    heartily join than the soldier who submitted to the dangers,\n    trials, and hardships of the camp and the battle-field,\n    on whichever side he fought. No class of people are more\n    interested in guarding against a recurrence of those days. Let\n    us, then, begin by guarding against every enemy threatening\n    the prosperity of free republican institutions. I do not\n    bring into this assemblage politics, certainly not partisan\n    politics; but it is a fair subject for the soldiers, in their\n    deliberations, to consider what maybe necessary to secure the\n    prize for which they battled. In a republic like ours, where\n    the citizen is the sovereign and the official the servant,\n    where no power is exercised except by the will of the people,\n    it is important that the sovereign, the people, should foster\n    intelligence--that intelligence which is to preserve us as a\n    free nation. If we are to have another contest in the near\n    future of our national existence, I predict that the dividing\n    line will not be Mason and Dixon\u2019s, but between patriotism and\n    intelligence on the one side, and superstition, ambition and\n    ignorance on the other.\n\n    \u201cNow, the centennial year of our national existence, I\n    believe, is a good time to begin the work of strengthening\n    the foundations of the structure commenced by our patriotic\n    forefathers one hundred years ago at Lexington. Let us all\n    labor to add all needful guarantees for the security of free\n    thought, free speech, a free press, pure morals, unfettered\n    religious sentiments, and of equal rights and privileges to all\n    men, irrespective of nationality, color, or religion. Encourage\n    free schools, and resolve that not one dollar appropriated\n    for their support shall be appropriated to the support of any\n    sectarian schools. Resolve that neither the State nor nation,\n    nor both combined, shall support institutions of learning other\n    than those sufficient to afford every child growing up in the\n    land the opportunity of a good common-school education, unmixed\n    with sectarian, pagan, or atheistical dogmas. Leave the matter\n    of religion to the family altar, the church, and the private\n    school, supported entirely by private contributions. Keep the\n    church and the state for ever separate. With these safeguards,\n    I believe the battles which created the Army of the Tennessee\n    will not have been fought in vain.\u201d\n\nTaking all things into consideration, the speech is fully equal to any\nwritten production of the President. It is direct. It is plain. It is\nmanly and vigorous, and far superior to any other oration which we\nhave heard of from the same distinguished quarter. Beyond all things\nit expresses, better than many imagine, the common sentiments of the\nAmerican people.\n\nWe have not been surprised at the general applause with which it has been\ngreeted; and we think that all our readers will agree in the judgments\nwhich we are about to express with regard to it.\n\nAn impression has been spread abroad that the views of President Grant\nare hostile to the Catholic Church, and that the speech was fulminated by\nhis zeal against it. It has been averred that he was talked into making\na public manifestation of his feelings by the mayor of the city of Des\nMoines, who called his attention to the political campaign in Ohio,\nwhere Catholics were vainly struggling for equal rights in the matter\nof the public schools. His Excellency is said to have been strongly\nmoved, and hastened home from his ride, in order to prepare his speech\nfor the evening. We have no means of definitely ascertaining the motives\nof the President\u2019s speech. If he meant to hurl a thunderbolt at us, we\nhonor him for using language, in the main, so just and courteous. But if\nhis friends have sought to make use of him to stir up feeling against\nus, they must be sadly disappointed at his words; for, if they now\nrepeat them too freely, for the purpose of injuring us, they will find\nthemselves \u201choist by\u201d their \u201cown petard.\u201d\n\nTrying as hard as we can to lash ourselves into fury; trying to fancy\nourselves insulted, by representing to ourselves that the head of this\nnation has gone out of his way and abased his dignity, in order to cast\nan aspersion at a large and respectable class of the community, we are\nforced to give it up, and to lay down our pen; for we find nothing in the\noration with which we are in the least disposed to take issue. On the\ncontrary, we are prepared to join our tribute to the burst of applause\nwhich echoes through the land. We are convinced that, if it meets with\nthe attention which it merits, the country at large, and Catholics in\nparticular, will treasure the \u201cDes Moines speech\u201d among the \u201cSayings\nof the Fathers.\u201d Like Washington\u2019s Farewell, and Webster\u2019s mighty\nperoration, and Lincoln\u2019s noble and pathetic Inaugural, it will pass from\nthe vulgar atmosphere of party strife into the pure and serene empyrean\nof immortality.\n\nWe have given the speech at length. We now propose to explain our\ndecision with regard to it, and to examine at greater length those\nportions of it which seem to us most true, most wise, and most remarkable.\n\n\u201cENCOURAGE FREE SCHOOLS,\u201d the President says, \u201cAND RESOLVE THAT NOT ONE\nDOLLAR APPROPRIATED FOR THEIR SUPPORT SHALL BE APPROPRIATED FOR THE\nSUPPORT OF ANY SECTARIAN SCHOOLS.\u201d\n\nDo we hear aright? Does the President of the United States maintain the\nproposition which has brought us so much contempt and derision?\n\nWHAT IS A FREE SCHOOL? A free school is one in which every scholar\ncan obtain an education without violating the honest convictions of\nconscience, or--to use the words of the President--a free school is\none where education can be obtained \u201cunmixed with sectarian, pagan, or\natheistical dogmas.\u201d\n\nARE OUR SO-CALLED COMMON SCHOOLS FREE? Let us glance at the general\nhistory of the controversy concerning them. As soon as the public\nschools had ceased to be purely charitable institutions, a new policy\nwas inaugurated by our people. The government assumed that it was bound\nto ensure an intelligent use of the franchise, by encouraging the mental\nactivity of its citizens. To this all Catholics agreed, and still agree.\nBut our Protestant fellow-citizens, rightly desiring that some religious\ninstruction should be given their children, wrongly insisted upon having\nthe Bible read in the schools. The government might have permitted such\na custom to continue, when no protest was made against it. But it soon\nbecame evident that the schools were essentially Protestant institutions,\nand served as an instrument to prevent the growth of \u201cPopery.\u201d This was\nno secret. It was openly preached.\n\nAbout this time Catholics began to see what everybody else was rejoicing\nover, and were, naturally, alarmed. They had assisted to found and build\nup the republic, or they had immigrated under the assurance of equal\nrights. To find it proclaimed a Protestant country was news to them.\nThey insisted that the Government was bound to deny this imputation, and\nthey registered an universal protest against the design of the falsely\nso-called \u201ccommon\u201d schools.\n\nWe have demanded either that we be relieved from taxation for these\nsectarian schools, or that such arrangement be devised as shall render\nthem equally desirable for Catholics and non-Catholics.\n\nWe were not called upon to explain why we so earnestly desired this. It\nwas nobody\u2019s business but our own. The public schools are not held to\nbe eleemosynary institutions. They are ostensibly for the benefit of\nall. And even if they were places for the confinement of criminals, or\nalmshouses, both criminals and paupers have consciences, however dull or\nuninformed. What, then, is the objection to our having a right to direct\nthe policy on which public institutions are to be conducted? None. But if\nwe were to have taken such a position as this, we should, at once, have\nbeen indicted, for an insidious and damnable conspiracy.\n\nTherefore we have openly stated the grounds of our convictions, relying\non the inherent force of truth to secure our rights. We regard morality\nas inseparable from religion. In this we merely echo the sentiments\nof the greatest American statesmen, and notably, of the Father of\nour republic. We say that, if we are to pay for the education of our\nchildren, we should like to have the worth of our money. What fairer\ndemand can a Yankee make? We ask nothing to which every citizen has\nnot a right. We have never met a fair reply to our demands, or a fair\ndiscussion of their merits. First we were greeted with silent scorn.\nThe practical operation of the laws was found to force our children\ninto Protestant schools. We proclaimed claimed them to be Protestant\nschools. It was unblushingly denied. We put the question to the test, by\nendeavoring to stop the Protestant Bible from being read in them. There\nwas not enough power in our voice, nor enough fairness in our opponents,\nto enforce even an appearance of consistency. The schools were pronounced\n\u201cun-sectarian,\u201d a Protestant service was daily carried out, and we were\nbidden to hold our tongues, and to be thankful. And, now, that we are not\nwilling, either to hold our peace, or to be grateful to those who deny us\nour equal rights, a loud outcry is raised, and every manner of evil is\npredicted, unless we are forcibly restrained. The party of malevolence\nseeks to create an issue where none exists, and to force us into a\nstrife, in which it can avail itself of superior numbers to strike us a\ncruel and unjust blow. Now, neither this design nor the clamor with which\nit is urged, can be defended by any true or just plea. And we venture to\npredict that there is too much intelligence and love of fair play in the\nAmerican people, to allow it to succeed in its sinister purpose.\n\nWhat is our position once more? Here we stand, on the same basis with\nall other American citizens. Is it not so? Where, then, is any legal\ndisability proved against us? We ask for nothing which we are not willing\nto concede to all our fellow-citizens--viz., the natural right to have\ntheir children brought up according to their parents\u2019 conscientious\nconvictions. We want, and we will have, our children brought up\nCatholics. It can be done in various ways. The state can pay the salaries\nof our teachers, and the cost of our buildings, and other expenses,\nsecuring proper guarantees that the money will be honestly laid out, and\nthe children receive their due amount of secular instruction. Again, the\nstate may pay a _pro rata_, and allow teachers to compete for scholars.\nThis is done in Protestant England and Prussia, as well as in Catholic\nFrance and Austria, and is, obviously, most in harmony with democratic\nprinciples. Other ways may be devised which will secure justice to all\nparties. There is no practical difficulty, except in the smallest country\nschool districts. These are always settled by the citizens themselves.\nOr, we can educate our children, without the state. The state may let us\nalone, and may do away entirely with public education, except for those\nwho are utterly without means--in other words, change the common schools\ninto charitable institutions, and let parents provide. But this, we are\npersuaded, is full of practical difficulties.\n\nBut the plan actually adopted has been to tax all alike for the common\ngood, and yet maintain a system, which perfectly suits Protestants,\nbut to which Catholics cannot honestly or conscientiously agree. OUR\nSO-CALLED COMMON SCHOOLS ARE NOT FREE. Millions of the people rise up and\nproclaim it. Let those who like them send their children to them. Let\nthose support them who like them by their \u201cprivate contributions.\u201d Then\nall honor to President Grant when he says \u201cthat not one dollar should be\nappropriated to the support of any sectarian schools.\u201d\n\nThe President further says:\n\n    \u201cRESOLVE THAT NEITHER STATE NOR NATION, NOR BOTH COMBINED,\n    SHALL SUPPORT INSTITUTIONS OF LEARNING OTHER THAN THOSE\n    SUFFICIENT TO AFFORD EVERY CHILD GROWING UP IN THE LAND THE\n    OPPORTUNITY OF A GOOD COMMON-SCHOOL EDUCATION, UNMIXED WITH\n    SECTARIAN, PAGAN, OR ATHEISTICAL DOGMAS.\u201d\n\nNow, what is it that Catholics complain of, except that the state has\nsupported, and does support, \u201cinstitutions of learning\u201d mixed \u201cwith\nsectarian, pagan, and atheistical dogmas\u201d?\n\nThere is no doubt about this fact. Protestants insist upon having the\nBible read in the public schools, lest they become irreligious. Catholics\nmaintain that the version used is garbled, and that, even if it were not,\nno one has a right to teach it, except those who have compiled it, and\nare to-day the only responsible witnesses to its true meaning. The Jews\nmaintain that the New Testament part of it is not true. Infidels deny it\naltogether. What right has any school board, or any other purely human\ninstitution to decide this controversy; and what right has any man under\nthe Constitution to enforce his religious views or his denial of religion\nupon others? It is an outrage. It is an inconsistency, which cannot be\nstated in any terms without transparently manifesting its absurdity.\nUnder the Constitution, and according to the spirit of our government,\nall men are equal. Under the present system of common schools, and,\naccording to the spirit of those who uphold them, men are not equal, and\nthere is no such thing as regard for conscience; but every majority has\na right to enforce upon any minority, no matter how large, its peculiar\nideas of instruction, involving, as this always does, the question of\nreligion itself. We have repeated our protest, until we are almost\nsick and tired of hearing the outrage mentioned; we have never seen our\nposition manfully approached within beat of drum; and, yet, we have\nconstantly been forced to ask ourselves, \u201cWill the American people never\nsee this? Can it be that our enemies are, as some of them hold themselves\nto be, totally depraved?\u201d\n\nSome time ago, after considerable agitation, the Chicago School Board\nprohibited the reading of the Sacred Scriptures in the public schools of\nthat city.\n\nUndoubtedly the protest of Catholics had something to do with this. But\nthe action of the board was certainly based upon the idea, that the\nreading of the Protestant Bible made the schools Protestant, \u201csectarian\u201d\ninstitutions, and therefore unjust towards all other religious bodies.\nLet it be thoroughly understood, that we fully appreciate the desire of\nour Protestant fellow-citizens, to hallow secular instruction. But the\nreading of the Scriptures as a public ceremony is as distinctive to them,\nas the celebration of Mass would be to Catholics. No one can evade the\nargument which forces this conclusion. \u201cSuch schemes are glass; the very\nsun shines through them.\u201d And yet it is not a little remarkable, how\nslowly the light breaks in upon the seat of the delusion.\n\nIt is a satisfaction, however, to note the few acknowledgments, tardy and\nincomplete as they are, of the principle which we have always maintained.\nProf. Swing, alluding to the action of the Chicago School Board to which\nwe have referred, gives voice to the following observations of common\nsense:\n\n    \u201cThe government has no more right to teach the Bible than it\n    has to teach the Koran. My idea is that the government did,\n    in its earlier life, run according to a sort of Christian\n    common law; but now the number of Jews, Catholics, and infidels\n    has become so greatly increased, the government has to base\n    itself squarely upon its constitutional idea that all men\n    are religiously equal. Even if the genius of the country\n    permitted the teaching of the Bible, I should doubt the\n    propriety of continuing the custom, because no valuable moral\n    results can ever come from reading a few verses hurriedly in a\n    school-house, and social strifes will be continually springing\n    up out of the practice.\u201d\n\nThe government, then, according to the professor, has no rights in the\nspiritual domain--a proposition which we have been condemned to universal\nderision for maintaining, and yet one that is self-evident to any person\nwho will pause for a moment to consider our institutions.\n\nAn ardent advocate of what are called liberal principles, commenting\nupon the position of Prof. Swing, very properly styles it the only\none defensible. The purpose of the Liberal League is, unquestionably,\nto procure the complete secularization of our public schools, which\nwould, of course, be as unjust towards Catholic tax-payers as any other\nsystem. This class is no less hostile to justice and true liberty than\nany other set of meddlers. Nevertheless, it is not a little amusing\nto see the unmistakable fear with which it regards the issue of the\npresent anti-Catholic policy. It waves, as its flag of hostility to the\nCatholics, the threadbare pretext, that we are secretly opposed to all\neducation. It is not necessary for us to repeat the indignant denial and\nprotest, with which we have ever met this gratuitous calumny. We quote\nfrom the Boston _Index_ of Oct. 28:\n\n    \u201cThe public-school system is to-day in the greatest danger,\n    not so much from the fact that it is openly attacked from\n    without by the Catholics, as from the fact that a great\n    inherent injustice to all non-Protestants is made part and\n    parcel of it by its distinctively Protestant character. What is\n    built on wrong is built on the sand; and our school system will\n    certainly fall in ruins by and by, unless it can be grounded on\n    equal justice to all.\u201d\n\nWhen the avowed heathen, who reap the fullest harvest, fear for the\ndestruction of our present unjust system of education, on the ground\nthat it is too iniquitous to last, is it not time, for people who call\nthemselves Christians, to give a moment\u2019s heed to the petition, which we\nhave for years addressed to them, as most advantageous to all of us, and\nas doing injustice to none?\n\nIt appears, however, that this idea has infiltrated into other minds.\n_Zion\u2019s Herald_, a Methodist journal, quoted by the liberal paper to\nwhich we have referred, says:\n\n    \u201cThe state deals only with temporal affairs, and does not\n    attempt to usurp spiritual functions. Therefore the objects\n    and methods of public education are wholly secular, but by no\n    means necessarily, or at all, immoral or irreligious. On the\n    contrary, they are decidedly favorable to piety and morality.\n    But composed denominationally as the American people is, the\n    state ought not to impart religious education. The moment such\n    an attempt should be made, the community would be in conflict\n    as to what form it should take. It may be conceded, without\n    danger perhaps, that the state should not teach ethics, except\n    so far as the great fundamental principles of morals and\n    politics, as to which all Americans are agreed, are concerned.\n    _The religious education of children may and should be remitted\n    to the family, the Sabbath-school, and the church_--the natural\n    and divinely-appointed guardians of religion and ethics.\u201d\n\nIn the face of this growing acknowledgment of the \u201csectarian\u201d character\nof our public schools, and knowing that they must give religious\ninstruction or else be \u201cpagan and atheistical,\u201d we are pleased to hear\nthe demand that \u201cneither the State nor nation, nor both combined,\u201d shall\nsupport such schools.\n\nThe fact is, that a people cannot wholly escape from its national\ntraditions, without forgetting its language, or undergoing some violent\nrevolution. If our fellow-citizens will study the meaning of the terms\nwhich they habitually use, they will not lose their traditions of freedom\nand equal rights, nor will they throw themselves into a violent, perilous\ndeparture from them. But we hasten to comment upon another sentence,\nwhich is frequently quoted from the President\u2019s oration:\n\n\u201cLEAVE THE MATTER OF RELIGION TO THE FAMILY ALTAR, THE CHURCH, AND THE\nPRIVATE SCHOOL SUPPORTED BY PRIVATE CONTRIBUTIONS.\u201d\n\nPrecisely so. If it must come to this; if no arrangement can be made, by\nwhich religion and morality can be taught in the public schools, then,\nleave the matter to the family altar and the church, and allow it to be\ndone by private contributions.\n\nIn other words, either furnish the people with that which you pretend to\ntax them for--viz., a fair and equitable system of public schools--or\nallow them to provide for themselves. But, whatever you do, keep your\nhands off the sacredness of the \u201cfamily altar.\u201d Do not set foot into\nthe hallowed precincts of the domestic sanctuary. The family, though\nsubordinate, is not to be violated by the state. Parents have rights,\nwhich no government can usurp. You have no more right to force the\neducation of their children out of their hands, than to define the number\nof offspring by law. You have no more right to establish a system, to\nwhich you will endeavor to secure their conformity by violent measures,\nthan you have to establish public wet-nurseries, or, require that voters\nshall be brought up on government pap and be fed out of a government\nspoon.\n\nKeep from meddling with religion; you have no authority to teach it.\n\nWhat a bitter rebuke these words of the President contain for that party,\nsmall and contemptible in itself, but powerful by reason of the times,\nwhich has ever sought to widen the gulf between us and our true-hearted\ncountrymen! It is not enough that we should be estranged by the\ntraditions of three hundred years. It is not enough to whisper into the\npopular ear every stale and loathed calumny. It is not enough to bring\nour holiest rites and beliefs into the obscene literature now circulating\namongst the depraved youth of our country. It is not enough to drown with\na thousand noisy, insolent tongues, every attempt we make at explanation.\nIt is not enough for this malignant, persecuting power to drop its poison\ninto every crevice of our social and religious system, from the parlor\nto the sewer, from the temple to the lupanar; but the nation must be\norganized against us. Our religion must, in some way or other, be dragged\ninto politics. For shame! we cry, with the President. In a country of\nsuch varied religious beliefs as ours, there is but one way to order and\npeace--\u201cKEEP THE CHURCH AND THE STATE FOR EVER SEPARATE.\u201d\n\nTo sum up: We agree with the President:\n\n1st. No \u201csectarianism\u201d in our common schools; and, therefore, \u201cnot one\ndollar\u201d to our present system of schools, because they are sectarian.\n\n2d. \u201cNot one dollar\u201d to \u201cpagan\u201d schools, in which God is ignored.\n\n3d. \u201cNot one dollar\u201d to \u201catheistical\u201d schools, in which God is denied in\nthe name of \u201cscience falsely so-called.\u201d\n\nWe now turn to consider the prophecy in which the President warns the\nAmerican people of its future dangers:\n\n    \u201cIF WE ARE TO HAVE ANOTHER CONTEST IN THE NEAR FUTURE OF OUR\n    NATIONAL EXISTENCE, I PREDICT THAT THE DIVIDING LINE WILL NOT\n    BE MASON AND DIXON\u2019S, BUT BETWEEN PATRIOTISM AND INTELLIGENCE\n    ON THE ONE SIDE, AND SUPERSTITION, AMBITION, AND IGNORANCE ON\n    THE OTHER.\u201d\n\nWhat is meant by superstition?\n\nFormerly it meant seeking for power or knowledge, by dealing with the\nimpure spirits.\n\nDoes the President mean to warn us against the delusions and uncleanness\nof modern spiritism? If so, we are agreed.\n\nBut we do not really suppose that the President means any such thing.\nWhat does he mean?\n\nWe find in the dictionary four other meanings of the word which he has\nused. Superstition means \u201can excessive reverence or fear of that which\nis unknown or mysterious.\u201d But, we observe no such phenomenon among\nour people; if anything, rather the reverse. Or it means \u201cThe worship\nof false gods.\u201d We see no signs of this except in the \u201cJoss Houses\u201d\nof San Francisco. Nor do we behold any great belief \u201cin the agency of\nsuperior powers in certain extraordinary or singular events, or in\nomens, or prognostics.\u201d Nor, further, do we behold any \u201cexcessive nicety\nor scrupulous exactness,\u201d as an alarming feature of our present moral\ncondition. There remains but one meaning (and this, we are persuaded,\nis the sense which the President intended to convey): \u201cEspecially, an\nignorant or irrational worship of the supreme Deity.\u201d\n\nAn ignorant worship of God is one which knows not what to believe\nconcerning him, or one which is unable to state what it does believe;\nor, further, one which can give no conclusive reason for believing\nanything. But, outside the Catholic Church, there is no religious body\nwhich can tell precisely what it ought to believe, or precisely what it\ndoes believe, or precisely why it ought to believe anything. Again, an\nirrational belief in God is one which recognizes his existence, and, at\nthe same time, denies his attributes. For instance, it is an irrational\nbelief in God, which denies his wisdom; which asserts, that he has not\nchosen means adequate to accomplish his ends; which represents him, when\nhe has made a revelation to man, as leaving his divine truth in scattered\nand mysterious writings in an obscure language, requiring men to find\nthem, collect them, and believe their true meaning in order to be saved;\nor which fancies that reading daily a few pages from these writings, to\nlittle children, will be sufficient to prepare them for the duties of\nlife. It is an irrational belief in God which represents him as immoral,\nas creating man simply to damn him, or, which denies his justice, by\nwickedly imagining that he will not punish oppression and calumny and\nthose who sow discord in the midst of a free and happy people.\n\nHere again we agree with the President in denouncing such impiety, and\nin predicting that, if the liberties and institutions of this republic\nare soon to be jeopardized, it will be by irreverence towards God and\nthe contempt of charity and justice towards men, ever practised by this\n\u201cignorant and irrational worship of the supreme Deity.\u201d\n\nAnother item of danger which the President foresees in the near future\nis \u201cignorance.\u201d Here, again we find him sounding the note of warning, to\nwhich we have always given voice. His Excellency says: \u201cIn a republic\nlike ours, \u2026 where no power is exercised except by the will of the\npeople, it is important that the sovereign, the people, should foster\nintelligence--that intelligence which is to preserve us as a free\nnation.\u201d The liberties of this republic will not be maintained, we say,\nby an ignorant, debauched, and corrupted generation. Our common people\nmust be educated. They must possess \u201cthat intelligence which is to\npreserve us as a free nation.\u201d They must know something more than simply\nhow to read and write and \u201ccipher.\u201d Nor will it be sufficient, to add\nto this a knowledge of music. They must have a sound and thorough moral\ntraining. Their conscientious convictions must be grounded on truth daily\ntaught and daily enforced. They must be daily taught to control their\npassions; they must be taught honesty, and be required to give back that\nwhich is unjustly gotten. They must be taught the true purpose of life.\n\nBut this training, as the President affirms, belongs not to the state,\nbut to the \u201cfamily altar and the church.\u201d Either assist _all_ families\nand _all_ churches, or else encourage them to help themselves. These are\nour sentiments. But when sectarian bigotry has gotten hold of a system of\nthe falsely so-called \u201ccommon schools,\u201d and with obstinate purpose, and\nclamorous intensity and ever-swelling declamation, manifests its resolve\nto maintain this system, even though it conflicts with the conscientious\nrights of millions of the people of our country; when, further, it is\ndetermined to force a large minority to accept this state of things,\nor to go without instruction, we, as American citizens, denounce the\nsystem as tyrannous; in the full sense of the word, as a reckless and\nimmoral oppression. We assert that those who uphold it, do not desire\nintelligence, but prefer ignorance; that their aim is not to promote\nknowledge, but to destroy the religious convictions of our children, and\nto keep us from growing in the land. We affirm that such self-delusion\noriginates in ignorance, is perpetuated by ignorance, tends to still\ndeeper degradation of ignorance; and we predict that it will bring forth\nthe fruits of ignorance, not only in morality, but in the lower sciences.\n\nWe, for our part, will never relax our efforts to show up the dishonesty\nof this party; we will never withdraw our protest, until justice has been\ndone; and knowing to what lengths men can go when they start without\nprinciple, we fully share in the alarm of our chief magistrate, as to the\ndanger of \u201cignorance.\u201d Have we not, therefore, reason to hope that, in\nthe midst of the struggle, which his sagacious mind perceives to be at\nhand, we shall find him on the side of patriotism and intelligence, with\nall true Americans, against that \u201csuperstition\u201d and \u201cignorance,\u201d whose\naim is to destroy the \u201csecurity of unfettered religious sentiments and\nequal rights\u201d of his fellow-citizens?\n\nThere is another item of the future contest, which, according to our\nPresident, is\n\n\u201cAMBITION.\u201d WHAT IS AMBITION?\n\nA man has been elected to the highest office in the gift of a free\npeople, the limits of which have been fixed by a custom handed down by\nthe fathers of the nation, and which, to the minds of true patriots,\nhas the force of law. When such a trust does not satisfy the honored\nrecipient, and he, yielding to personal motives, strains every nerve,\nand seeks by every means at his command, to break down all barriers to\ncontinuation of power, thereby abusing the dignity of his post and the\nconfidence of the people--that is ambition.\n\nWe do not fully share the apprehension with which the President foresees\nthis threat to the \u201cnear future\u201d of our national welfare. But if it be\ntrue, we fully agree with him when he says: \u201cNow, the centennial year of\nour national existence, I believe, is a good time to begin the work of\nstrengthening the foundations of the structure commenced by our patriotic\nforefathers one hundred years ago at Lexington.\u201d\n\n\u201cLanguage,\u201d according to a great diplomatist, \u201cwas given to man, in order\nthat he might conceal his ideas.\u201d But this maxim has never been accepted\nby honorable men. In examining, thus briefly, the \u201cDes Moines speech,\u201d\nwe have followed that other canon of criticism, which requires that\nwords shall be interpreted in their literal sense, as far as possible.\nSubmitted to this just criticism, the language appears to us immortal,\nand worthy of the high place which is even now being prepared for it.\nSome may marvel, and may wonder how the President came to be filled with\nso high a degree of the prophetic spirit. Like Balaam, the son of Beor,\nhe was expected to curse us; unlike Balaam, he was not stayed, but rather\nurged on by the faithful servant with whom he previously conversed. But\nthere is no mystery about it. He has grown up with the instincts of a\ntrue American, and he has spoken accordingly. Not only are the words\non which we have commented true, but they are in accordance with sound\nCatholic principles. We are ready to take him at his word, and his\nwords in their true meaning. To those who will join us we say, without\ndisguise or reserve: \u201cGentlemen, you will never regret having trusted\nus, and dealt fairly with us, according to the laws and Constitution of\nthis country.\u201d We believe with the President, that, if the only honest\nmeaning of his language be as honestly carried out, \u201cthe battles which\ncreated the Army of the Tennessee\u201d (which, by the way, a Catholic general\nonce commanded and in whose ranks hundreds of Catholic hearts bled)--we\nbelieve, we say, that these battles \u201cwill not have been fought in vain.\u201d\nThe children of the soldiers of the Union will at least be the peers of\nthose whom their fathers overcame. The nations\u2019 heroes will not look\ndown, to see their heirs defrauded of equal rights in \u201cthe Union and the\nfree institutions for which they died.\u201d The President will yield to his\ncomrades in arms, at least as much as he is so ready to accord to his\nlate opponents. And as for our countrymen throughout the Union, we are\nprepared to wait, trusting that when fully enlightened, they will agree\nto our obtaining, independently of all political agitations or party\norganizations, our just and equal rights as American citizens.\n\n\nSONNETS IN MEMORY OF THE LATE SIR AUBREY DE VERE, BART.\n\nBY AUBREY DE VERE.\n\n                          I.\n\n    To-night upon thy roof the snows are lying;\n    The Christmas snows lie heavy on thy trees;\n    A dying dirge that soothes the year in dying\n    Swells from thy woodlands on the midnight breeze.\n    Our loss is ancient; many a heart is sighing\n    This hour a late one, or by slow degrees\n    Heals some old wound, to God\u2019s high grace replying--\n    A time there was when thou wert like to these!\n    Where art thou? In what unimagined sphere\n    Liv\u2019st thou, sojourner, or a transient guest?\n    By whom companioned? Access hath she near,\n    In life thy nearest, and beloved the best?\n    What memory hast thou of thy loved ones here?\n    Hangs the great Vision o\u2019er thy place of rest?\n\n                         II.\n\n    \u201cSweet-sounding bells, blithe summoners to prayer!\u201d[173]\n    The answer man can yield not ye bestow:\n    Your answer is a little Infant, bare,\n    Wafted to earth on night-winds whispering low.\n    Blow him to Bethlehem, airs angelic, blow!\n    There doth the Mother-Maid his couch prepare:\n    His harbor is her bosom: drop him there\n    Soft as a snow-flake on a bank of snow.\n    Sole Hope of man! Sole Hope for us--for thee!\n    \u201cTo us a Prince is given; a Child is born!\u201d--\n    Thou sang\u2019st of Bethlehem, and of Calvary,\n    The Maid immaculate, and the twisted thorn\n    Where\u2019er thou art, not far, not far is He\n    Whose banner whitens in yon Christmas morn!\n\n\nA MESSAGE.\n\nIs there anything more tantalizing than to be caught with a toothache\nand swelled face just at Christmas time, when one\u2019s hands are full of\nwork that must be finished, of plans that have been begun in time and\ncarried on prosperously to within a few days of their fulfilment? This\nis just what befell Mr. Stephen Walpole on the 20th of December in the\nyear of grace 1870. You remember what a terrific winter that was? How the\nbleak north wind blew over ice and snow, and added tenfold horrors to the\npoor soldiers fighting in that terrible Franco-German war--how all our\nhearts shuddered in pity for them, as we sat stitching and knitting in\ntheir service by the glow of our Christmas fires! This 20th of December\nwas, perhaps, the bitterest day of the whole season. The snow was deep\non the ground, the ice hung in long spikes from rails and roofs, and the\neast wind blew cruelly over all. Stephen Walpole ought to have been out\nbreasting it, but, instead of this, he sat at home moaning, in a voice\nthat sounded like a fog-bell at sea, through poultices, wadding, and\nmiles of flannel that swelled his head out of all human proportions.\n\n\u201cTo think of a man being knocked down by a thing no bigger than a pin\u2019s\npoint!\u201d he grumbled. \u201cA prick of that miserable atom one calls a nerve\nturns the seat of one\u2019s intellect into a monster calf\u2019s head, and makes\none a spectacle to gods and men. I could whip myself for being such a\nmilksop as to knock under to it. I\u2019d rather have every tooth in my head\npulled out than play the woman like this.\u2026 Och! Whew!\u201d\n\n\u201cServes you right, sir, for your impertinence!\u201d protested Nelly Walpole,\nbridling up and applying a fresh hot poultice to her brother\u2019s cheek,\nwhich she bade him hold; but Stephen, in his manly inability to bear the\ntoothache with composure, dropped the soft mess under a sudden sting that\njerked it out of his hand.\n\n\u201cWhat an unmanageable baby it is!\u201d cried Nelly, catching the poultice in\ntime to save her pretty violet cashmere dress. \u201cI told you to hold your\ncheek while I fastened the bandage; make haste now before it cools.\u201d\n\n\u201cO my unfortunate brother! Ill-fated man! Is this how I find you, bound\nand poulticed in the hands of the Philistines?\u201d\n\nThis was from Marmaduke, Nelly\u2019s younger brother, who entered while\nthe operation was going on, and stood surveying the victim in serene\ncompassion.\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d cried Stephen, \u201cand all the pity a poor devil gets is being\nbullied for not holding his jaw.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! come, you\u2019re not so bad, since there\u2019s vice enough in you for a\npun!\u201d said Marmaduke. \u201cHow did you catch the thing?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat thing--the pun?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe toothache.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt caught me,\u201d said Stephen resentfully.\n\n\u201cThen it caught you in some of those villanous cut-throat places where\nyou go pottering after beggars and blackguards and the Lord knows what!\u201d\nsaid Marmaduke with airy contempt, drawing his slim, beringed fingers\ngracefully through a mass of remarkably fine curls that clustered over\nhis high, white forehead, and gave a boyish look to his handsome young\nface, and added to its attractions. He was extremely prepossessing,\nthis perfumed, patent-leather-booted young gentleman of two-and-twenty.\nYou could not look at him without liking him. His eye was as clear as a\nchild\u2019s, his smile as frank, his laughter as joyous and catching. Yet,\nas it sometimes happens with the graces of childhood, these things were\na deceptive promise. The frankness and the joy were genuine; but there\nwas a cold gleam of contempt, a cold ring of selfishness, in the bright\neyes and the merry voice that were very disappointing when you found\nthem out. But people were slow to find them out. Even those who lived\nwith Marmaduke, and thus had ample opportunities of judging, remained\nunder the spell of his attractive manners and personal charms until some\naccident revealed their worthlessness. A false coin will go on passing\ncurrent through many hands, until one day some one drops it to the\nground, and the glittering sham is betrayed. He had not a bad heart; he\nwas kind even, when he could be brought to forget himself for a moment\nand think of others. But it required a shock to do this; and shocks are,\nhappily, rare in every-day life. So Marmaduke slept on undisturbed in\nhis egotism, hardening unconsciously in self-absorbed enjoyment. He had\nnever taken trouble about anything, made a genuine effort of any sort\nexcept for his amusement. He had just the kind of brains to enable him\nto get through college with a decent amount of success easily--tact,\nready repartee, a quick, retentive memory that gave the maximum of result\nfor the minimum of work. He would pass for clever and well informed where\nan awkward, ugly youth, who had ten times his intellect and studied ten\ntimes harder, would pass for knowing nothing. Stephen was eight years\nolder than he, and had not yet discovered his brother\u2019s real value.\nPerhaps this arose partly from Stephen\u2019s not being of a particularly\nobservant or analytical turn of mind. He took people pretty much at their\nown valuation, as the world is rather apt to do. Marmaduke set a very\nhigh price on his handsome face and limited attainments, and his brother\nhad never dreamed of disputing it. He would sometimes na\u00efvely express his\nsurprise that people were so fond of Duke when he did so little to please\nthem; and wonder how popular he was, considering that he never gave\nhimself the smallest trouble to oblige or humor people.\n\n\u201cI suppose it\u2019s his handsome face that mankind, and womankind in\nparticular, find so taking,\u201d Stephen would remark to Nelly. \u201cHe certainly\nhas a wonderful knack for getting on with people without caring twopence\nwhether they like him or not. I wish I knew his secret. Perhaps it\u2019s his\nhigh spirits.\u201d\n\nNelly would sometimes suggest that Marmaduke\u2019s fine temper might count\nfor something in the mystery. And Stephen never contradicted her. His\ntemper was not his best point. He had a heart of gold; he had energy,\npatience, and endurance to any extent--except in case of toothache; he\nwas unselfish and generous; but he was sensitive and exacting. Like\nmost persons who dispense liberally, he was impatient of the selfishness\nand ingratitude of men who take all they can get and return nothing.\nMarmaduke had no such accounts to square with human beings, so he never\nfelt aggrieved, never quarrelled with them. Stephen was working hard\nat his profession--he was an engineer--and so far he had achieved but\nmoderate success. Marmaduke had been called to the bar, but it was a\nmere formality so far; he spent his time dawdling about town, retailing\ngossip and reading poetry, waiting for briefs that never came--that\nnever do come to handsome young gentlemen who take it so easy. His elder\nbrother laid no blame on him for this want of success. He was busy all\nday himself, and took for granted that Marmaduke was busy on his side.\nThe law was up-hill work, besides; the cleverest and most industrious men\ngrew gray in its service before they made a name for themselves; and Duke\nwas after all but a boy--he had time enough before him. So Stephen argued\nin his brotherly indulgence, in ignorance of the real state of things.\n\nNelly was, as yet, the only person who had found out Marmaduke, who knew\nhim thoroughly. She knew him egotistical to the core, averse to work,\nto effort of every sort, idle, self-indulgent, extravagant; and the\nknowledge of all this afforded much anxious thought to her little head\nof nineteen years. They lived alone, these three. Nelly was a mother to\nthe two young men, watching and caring for them with that instinctive\nchild-motherhood that is so touching in young girls sometimes. She was a\nspirited, elfin little creature, very pretty, blessed with the sweetest\nof tempers, the shrewdest of common sense, and an energy of character\nthat nothing daunted and few things resisted. Marmaduke described this\ntrait of Nelly\u2019s in brother-like fashion as \u201ca will of her own.\u201d He\nknew his was no match for it, and, with a tact which made one of his\nbest weapons of defence, he contrived to avoid clashing with it. This\nwas not all policy. He loved his pretty sister, and admired her more\nthan anything in the world except himself. And yet he knew that this\nadmiration was not mutual; that Nelly knew him thoroughly, saw through\nhim as if he were glass; but he was not afraid of her. His elder brother\nwas duped by him; but he would have staked his life on it that Nelly\nwould never undeceive him; that she would let Stephen go on believing\nin him so long as the deceiver himself did not tear off the mask. Yet\nit was a source of bitter anxiety to the wise little mother-maiden to\nwatch Marmy drifting on in this life of indolence and vacuity. Where was\nit to end? Where do such lives always end? Nothing but some terrible\nshock could awake him from it. And where was the shock to come from?\nNelly never preached--she was far too sensible for that--but when the\nopportunity presented itself she would say a few brief words to the\nculprit in an earnest way that never irritated him, if they worked no\nbetter result. He would admit with exasperating good-humor that he was\na good-for-nothing dog; that he was unworthy of such a perfection of a\nsister and such an irreproachable elder brother; but that, as nature had\nso blessed him, he meant to take advantage of the privilege of leaving\nthe care of his perfection to them.\n\n\u201cIf I were alone on my own hook, Nell, I would work like a galley-slave,\u201d\nhe protested once to her gentle upbraiding. \u201cBut as it is, why need I\nbother myself? You will save my soul, and pray me high and dry into\nheaven; and Stephen--Stephen the admirable, the unimpeachable, the pink\nof respectability--will keep me out of mischief in this.\u201d\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t believe in vicarious salvation for this world or the next, and\nneither do you, Marmy. You are much too intelligent to believe in any\nsuch absurdity,\u201d replied Nelly, handing him a glove she had been sewing a\nbutton into.\n\nMarmaduke did not contradict her, but, whistling an air from the\n_Trovatore_, arranged his hat becomingly, a little to one side, and, with\na farewell look in the glass over the mantel-piece, sauntered out for his\nmorning constitutional in the park. Nelly went to the window, and watched\nthe lithe young figure, with its elastic step, until it disappeared.\nShe was conscious of a stronger solicitude about Marmaduke this morning\nthan she had ever felt before. It was like a presentiment. Yet there\nwas nothing that she knew of to justify it. He had not taken to more\nirregular hours, nor more extravagant habits, nor done anything to cause\nher fresh anxiety; still, her heart beat as under some new and sudden\nfear. Perhaps it was the ring of false logic in his argument that sounded\na louder note of alarm and warned her of worse danger than she had\nsuspected. One might fear everything for a man starting in life with the\ndeliberate purpose of shifting his responsibility on to another, setting\nhis conscience to sleep because he had two brave, wakeful ones watching\nat his side.\n\n\u201cIf something would but come and wake him up to see the monstrous folly,\nthe sinfulness, of it!\u201d sighed Nelly. \u201cBut nothing short of a miracle\ncould do that, I believe. He might, indeed, fall ill and be brought to\ndeath\u2019s door; he might break his leg and be a cripple for life, and that\nmight serve the purpose; but oh! dear, I\u2019m not brave enough to wish for\nso severe a remedy.\u201d\n\nTwo months had passed since this little incident between the brother and\nsister, and nothing had occurred to vindicate Nelly\u2019s gloomy forebodings.\nMarmaduke rose late, read the newspaper, then Tennyson, Lamartine, or\nthe last novel, made an elaborate toilet, and sauntered down to the\ncourts to keep a lookout for the coming briefs. But it was near Christmas\nnow, and this serious and even tenor of life had been of late broken\nin upon by the getting up of private theatricals in company with some\nbachelor friends. What between learning his own part, and hearing his\nfellow-actors and actresses theirs, and overseeing stage arrangements,\nMarmaduke had a hard time of it. His hands were full; he was less at home\nthan usual, seldom or never of an evening. He had come in very late some\nnights, and looked worn and out of spirits, Nelly thought, when he came\ndown to his late breakfast.\n\n\u201cI wish those theatricals were over, Marmy. They will kill you if they\nlast much longer,\u201d she said, with a tender, anxious look on her pretty\nlittle face. This was the day he came home and found Stephen in the hands\nof the Philistines.\n\n\u201c\u2019Tis hard work enough,\u201d assented the young man, stretching out his long\nlimbs wearily; \u201cbut the 26th will soon be here. It will be too bad if you\nare laid up and can\u2019t come and applaud me, Steevy,\u201d he added, considering\nhis elder brother\u2019s huge head, that looked as if it would take a month to\nregain its natural shape.\n\n\u201cHumph! That\u2019s the least of my troubles!\u201d boomed Stephen through his\npoultice.\n\n\u201cCivil! Eh, Nell? I can tell you it\u2019s as bad as any toothache, the\nlabor I\u2019ve had with the business--those lazy dogs, Travers and Milford,\nthrowing all the weight of it on me, under pretext of never having done\nthat sort of thing before.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat\u2019s always the fate of the willing horse,\u201d said Stephen, without\nthe faintest idea of being sarcastic. \u201cThat\u2019s just what I complain of\nwith those idle fellows X---- and W----; they throw the burden of all\nthe business on me, because, forsooth, I understand things better! I do\nunderstand that people can\u2019t get work done unless they bestir themselves\nand attend to it.\u201d\n\n\u201cI wouldn\u2019t be such an ass as to let myself be put on in that way,\u201d said\nMarmaduke resentfully. \u201cI would not be fooled into doing the work of\nthree people instead of one.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd yet that\u2019s what you are doing at present,\u201d replied Stephen.\n\n\u201cOh! that\u2019s different; it is only _en passant_,\u201d explained Marmaduke;\n\u201cand then, you see, it.\u2026\u201d\n\n\u201cAmuses you,\u201d Nelly had it on the tip of her tongue to say; but she\nchecked herself, and finished the sentence for him with, \u201cIt is not the\nsame thing; people cannot make terms for a division of labor, except it\nbe in the case of real business.\u201d\n\n\u201cOf course not,\u201d assented Stephen. Marmaduke looked at his boots, and\ninwardly voted Nelly \u201cno end of a trump.\u201d\n\nDid she guess this mental vote, and did she take advantage of it to ask\nhim a favor?\n\n\u201cPerhaps Marmy would go and see that poor man for you, Stephen?\u201d she said\nin the most natural way possible, without looking up from her work.\n\n\u201cI wish he would; I should be ever so much obliged to him. Would you mind\nit, Duke?\u201d\n\n\u201cMind what?\u201d\n\n\u201cTaking a message for me to a poor fellow that I wanted badly to go and\nsee to-day.\u201d\n\n\u201cWho is he? Where does he hang out?\u201d\n\n\u201cHis name is John Baines, and he hangs out in Red Pepper Lane, ten\nminutes from here, at the back of the square.\u201d\n\n\u201cSome abominable slum, no doubt.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe locality is not Berkeley Square or Piccadilly, but it would not kill\nyou to walk through it once,\u201d rejoined Stephen.\n\n\u201cDo go, there\u2019s a dear boy!\u201d coaxed Nelly, fixing her bright eyes on\nMarmaduke\u2019s face, with a smile that would have fascinated a gorilla.\n\nMarmaduke rose, stretched his arms, as if to brace himself for an effort.\n\n\u201cWho\u2019s your friend John Baines?\u201d he said. \u201cA ticket-of-leave man?\u201d\n\n\u201cNothing so interesting; he\u2019s only a rag-and-bone man.\u201d\n\nMarmaduke said nothing, but his nose uttered such an unmistakable\n_pshaw!_ that Nelly, in spite of herself, burst out laughing.\n\n\u201cWhat the deuce can make him cultivate such company?\u201d he exclaimed,\nappealing to Nelly, and joining good-humoredly in her merriment.\n\n\u201cTo help them and do them good; what else?\u201d she replied.\n\n\u201cEvery man to his taste; I confess I have none for evangelizing\nrag-and-bone men, or indeed men of any station, kind, or degree,\u201d\nobserved Marmaduke emphatically.\n\n\u201cThen you won\u2019t go?\u201d said Stephen.\n\n\u201cI didn\u2019t say I wouldn\u2019t. I don\u2019t mind devoting myself for once to oblige\nyou. What\u2019s your message for John Baines? Not a leg of mutton or a bottle\nof port? I won\u2019t bargain for carrying that sort of article.\u201d\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t want you to carry anything that will encumber you,\u201d replied\nthe elder brother. \u201cTell him I cannot get to see him to-day, and why,\nand that I am very sorry for it. Meantime, you can say I have done his\ncommission. See if he wants anything, and, if so I will send it at once.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat ails him?\u201d enquired Marmaduke with a sudden look of alarm.\n\n\u201cPoverty: hunger, and cold, and misery.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! that\u2019s all! I mean it\u2019s not a case of typhus or small-pox. I should\nnot care to imperil my valuable life by running in the way of that sort\nof thing,\u201d observed Marmaduke.\n\n\u201cHave no fear. The complaint is not catching,\u201d replied his brother.\n\u201cWhatever good he may do you, he\u2019ll do you no harm.\u201d\n\n\u201cDear Marmy! it\u2019s very good of you!\u201d whispered Nelly, as she tripped\ndown-stairs after the reluctant messenger, and helped him on with his fur\ncoat in the hall.\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s not a bit good; it\u2019s an infernal bore, and I\u2019m only doing it to\nplease you, Nell,\u201d protested Marmaduke. \u201cWhat a fool\u2019s errand it is! I\nsha\u2019n\u2019t know from Adam what to say to the man when I get there. _What_ am\nI to say to him?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! anything,\u201d suggested Nelly. \u201cSay you have come to see him because\nStephen is ill, and ask him how he is. You\u2019re never at a loss for\nsomething to say, you know that right well; and whatever you say is sure\nto be right.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhen I know who I\u2019m talking to; but I don\u2019t know this interesting party,\nor what topics of conversation he particularly affects. He won\u2019t expect\nme to preach him a sermon, eh?\u201d And Marmaduke faced round with a look of\nsuch comical terror at the thought that Nelly again burst out laughing.\n\n\u201cHeaven forbid! That\u2019s the last thing you need dream of,\u201d she cried. \u201cHe\nis much more likely to preach to you.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! indeed; but I didn\u2019t bargain for that. I would very much rather be\nexcused,\u201d protested Marmaduke, anything but reassured.\n\n\u201cYou foolish boy! I mean that he will preach to you as the poor always\ndo--by example; by their patience, and their gratitude for the least\nthing one does for them.\u201d\n\n\u201cI\u2019m not going to do anything for John Baines that I can see; only\nbothering him with a visit which he would very likely rather I spared\nhim.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou will give him Stephen\u2019s message,\u201d suggested Nelly, \u201cand then let him\ntalk. There is nothing poor people enjoy so much as a good listener. They\nare quite happy when they can pour out their grievances into a willing\near. The sympathy of the rich is often a greater comfort to the poor than\ntheir alms.\u201d\n\n\u201cHumph! That\u2019s lucky, anyhow,\u201d grunted Marmaduke. \u201cWell, I\u2019ll let the\nold gentleman have his head; I\u2019ll listen till he pulls up of his own\naccord.\u201d He had his hand on the door-latch, when Stephen\u2019s muffled tones\nwere heard calling from the room above. Nelly bounded up the stairs, and\nwas back in an instant.\n\n\u201cHe says you are to give Baines half a sovereign from him; he had nearly\nforgotten it.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhere is it?\u201d said Marmaduke, holding out his hand.\n\n\u201cStephen has not his purse about him, so he begs you will give it for\nhim.\u201d\n\n\u201cNeither have I mine,\u201d said the young man.\n\n\u201cWell, run up for it; or shall I? Where is it?\u201d inquired willing Nelly.\n\nMarmaduke hesitated for a moment, and then said abruptly: \u201cIt doesn\u2019t\nmatter where it is; there\u2019s nothing in it.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat have you done with your money? You had plenty a few days ago!\u201d\nexclaimed Nelly in childlike surprise.\n\n\u201cI have lost it; I haven\u2019t a brass farthing in the world!\u201d He said this\nin a reckless, dogged sort of way, as if he did not care who knew it; and\nyet he spoke in an undertone. For one moment Nelly looked at him in blank\nastonishment.\n\n\u201cLost it?\u201d she repeated, and then, the truth flashing on her suddenly,\nshe cried in a frightened whisper: \u201cO Marmaduke! you have not been\ngambling? Oh! tell me it\u2019s not true.\u201d She caught hold of his arm, and,\nclinging to it, looked into his face, scared and white.\n\n\u201cNonsense, Nell! I thought you were a girl of sense,\u201d he exclaimed\npettishly, disengaging himself and pushing back the bolt. \u201cLet me be\noff; tell Stephen I had not change, so his friend must wait till he can\ngo and tip him himself.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, no; he may be hungry, poor man. Stay, I think I have ten shillings\nhere,\u201d said Nelly; and she pulled out her porte-monnaie, and picked four\nhalf-crowns from the promiscuous heap of smaller coins. \u201cTake these; I\nwill tell Stephen you will give the ten shillings.\u201d\n\nHer hand trembled as she dropped the money into Marmaduke\u2019s pocket. He\nwas about to resist; but there was something peremptory, a touch of that\nwill of her own, in her manner that deterred him.\n\n\u201cI\u2019m sorry I said anything about it; I should not if I thought you would\nhave minded it so much,\u201d he observed.\n\n\u201cMinded it? O Marmaduke! Minded your taking to gambling?\u201d\n\n\u201cTush! Don\u2019t talk nonsense! A man isn\u2019t a gambler because once in a way\nhe loses a twenty-pound note.\u201d\n\nAnd with this he brushed past her, and closed the hall-door with a loud\nbang.\n\nNelly did not sit down on one of the hall chairs and cry. She felt\nmightily inclined to do so; but she struggled against the weakness and\novercame it. Walking quietly up the stairs, she hummed a few bars of a\nfavorite air as she passed the door of Stephen\u2019s sitting-room, and went\non to her own room on the story above. But even here, safe and alone,\nthe tears were bravely held back. She would not cry; she would not be\nseen with red eyes that would betray her brother; she would do her very\nutmost to rescue him, to screen him even now. While she is wrestling and\npleading in the silence of her own room, let us follow the gambler to Red\nPepper Lane.\n\nMarmaduke had described the place accurately when he called it an\nabominable slum. Red Pepper Lane was one of those dismal, frightful dens\nof darkness and dirt that cower at the back of so many of our wealthy\nsquares and streets--poison-pits for breeding typhus and every social\nplague that desolates great cities. The houses were so high and the lane\nso narrow that you could at a stretch have shaken hands across from\nwindow to window. There was a rope slung half-way down the alley, with\na lantern hanging from it which looked more like a decoration or a sign\nthan a possible luminary; for the glass was too thickly crusted with dirt\nto admit of the strongest light piercing it. In the middle of the lane\nwas a gutter, in which a few ragged, begrimed, and hungry-looking little\nmortals were playing in the dirty snow. The east wind whistled through\nthe dreary tenements with a sharp, pitiless cry; the sky was bright\noutside, but here in Red Pepper Lane its brightness did not penetrate.\nNothing but the wind could enter, and that came with all its might,\nthrough the crannies in the walls, through the rickety doors, through\nthe window-frames glazed with brown paper or battered old hats--any\nrag that could be spared to stuff the empty panes. Not a head was seen\nanywhere protruding from windows or doors; the fierce blast kept every\none within who had a roof to cover them. If it were not for the sooty\nlittle objects disporting themselves in the gutter, the lane might have\nbeen the precincts of the jail, so deserted and silent was it. Marmaduke\nmight have wandered up and down for an hour without meeting any one whom\nhe could ask to direct him to where John Baines lived, but luckily he\nrecognized the house at once by Stephen\u2019s signal of an old broom nailed\nover the door. He searched for a knocker or a bell; but seeing neither,\nhe sounded a loud rat-ta-ta-tat with the gold knob of his walking-stick,\nand presently a voice called out from somewhere to \u201clift the latch!\u201d\nHe did so, and, again left to his own devices, he followed Stephen\u2019s\ninjunctions and went straight up to the second story, where he knocked,\nand in obedience to a sharp \u201cCome in!\u201d entered.\n\nThe gloom of the lane had prepared him gradually for the deeper gloom\nof the room, and he at once distinguished a person, whom he rightly\nsurmised to be the rag-and-bone man, sitting at the farther end, near\nthe fire-place, wrapped up in a brown blanket, with his feet resting\non the hearth-stone, as if he were toasting them. If he was, it was in\nimagination; for there was no fire--only the ghost of one as visible in\na mass of gray ashes, and they did not look as if even a glow of the\nlate warmth remained in them. He had his back to the door, and, when\nit opened, he turned his head in that direction, but not sufficiently\nto see who came in. Marmaduke, as he stood on the threshold, took in\nthe surroundings at a glance. There was a bed on the floor in one\ncorner, with no bed-clothes to speak of, the blanket being just now in\nrequisition as a cloak; a miserable-looking table and two chairs--an\nunoccupied one and the one Baines sat in; a bag and a basket were flung\nunder the window, and some dingy old utensils--a saucepan, kettle,\netc.--lay about. There was nothing particularly dreadful in the scene;\nit was, compared with many such, rather a cheerful one on the whole; but\nMarmaduke, who had no experience of the dwellings of the poor, thought\nit the most appalling picture of misery and desolation that could be\nconceived. He was roused from the stupor of horror into which the sudden\nspectacle had thrown him by hearing the figure in the blanket ask rather\nsharply a second time \u201cWho\u2019s there?\u201d\n\n\u201cI beg your pardon,\u201d said Marmaduke, advancing within a step of the\nchair. \u201cMy name is Walpole; I have come to see if there is anything I can\ndo for you--anything that you \u2026 that \u2026\u201d he stammered, not knowing how to\nput it.\n\n\u201cOh! Mr. Walpole, I am obliged to you for calling, sir. I want nothing;\nbut I am glad to see you. It is very kind of you. Pray take a chair. You\nmust excuse me for not getting up; my leg is still very painful.\u201d\n\n\u201cI am only the brother of the Mr. Walpole whom you know,\u201d said Marmaduke,\nsurprised beyond measure at the good address of the man. \u201cMy brother is\nlaid up with a violent face-ache. He was greatly put out at not being\nable to keep his appointment with you this afternoon, and sent me to see\nhow you were getting on, and to tell you he had done something that you\ncommissioned him to do.\u201d\n\n\u201cYour brother is extremely kind,\u201d said the man. \u201cI am sorry to hear he is\nill. This weather is trying to everybody.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou seem to be a severe sufferer from it,\u201d remarked Marmaduke. He had\nopened his fur coat, and sat back in the rickety chair, in mortal fear\nall the while that it would go to smash under him. This was the most\nextraordinary specimen of the rag-and-bone tribe--he could not say that\nhe had ever known, for he had never known one in his life, but--that\nhe could have imagined. He spoke like an educated man, and, even in\nhis blanket, he had the bearing of a gentleman. If it were not for his\nswollen nose and the glare of his red eye-balls, which were decidedly not\nrefined, there was nothing in his appearance to indicate that he belonged\nto the very dregs of human society. It was impossible to say how old he\nwas, but you saw at a glance that he was more broken than aged.\n\n\u201cYes, I am suffering rather severely just now,\u201d he replied in a quiet,\nconversational way; \u201cI always do when the cold sets in. But, added to my\nchronic complaint of sciatica, I slipped on the ice some time ago, and\nsprained my left foot badly. Your brother made my acquaintance at the\nhospital where I was taken to have it set right.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd has it been set right?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes; I can\u2019t get about easily yet, but it will be all right by and by.\u201d\nAnd then, dismissing the selfish subject, he said: \u201cI am distressed, sir,\nthat you should have had the trouble of coming to such a place as this;\npray don\u2019t let me detain you longer.\u201d\n\n\u201cI\u2019m in no hurry,\u201d replied Marmaduke, whose interest and curiosity were\nmore and more excited. \u201cIs there nothing I can do for you? It\u2019s dismal\nwork sitting here all day with a sprained ankle, and having nothing to\ndo; would you care to have some books?\u201d It did not occur to him to ask\nif he knew how to read; he would as soon have inquired if he knew how to\nspeak.\n\nBaines looked at him with a curious expression.\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t look like a man to lend books to, do I?\u201d he said. \u201cThere\u2019s not\nmuch in common between books and a rag-and-bone man.\u201d\n\n\u201cQuite as much, I should say, as there is between some men and rags and\nbones,\u201d retorted Marmaduke, meeting the man\u2019s eyes with a responsive\nquestion in his own.\n\nBaines turned away with a short laugh. Perhaps it was mere accident\nor the force of habit that made him look up at the space over the\nmantel-piece; but there was something in the deliberate glance that made\nMarmaduke follow it, and, doing so, he saw a faded but originally good\nengraving of Shakspere hung in a frame against the wall. Repressing the\nlow whistle which rose involuntarily to his lips, he said, looking at the\nportrait:\n\n\u201cYou have a likeness of Shakspere, I see. Have you read his plays?\u201d\n\n\u201cAy, and acted them!\u201d\n\n\u201cActed them! You were originally on the stage, then? I saw at once that\nyou were not what you seem to me,\u201d said Marmaduke, with that frankness\nthat seemed so full of sympathy and was so misleading, though never less\nso, perhaps, than at this moment. \u201cWould it be disagreeable to you to\ntell me through what chapters of ill-luck or other vicissitudes you came\nto be in the position where I now see you?\u201d\n\nThe man was silent for a few minutes; whether he was too deeply offended\nto reply at once, or whether he was glancing over the past which the\nquestion evoked, it was impossible to say. Marmaduke fancied he was\noffended, and, vexed with himself for having questioned him, he stood up,\nand laying Nelly\u2019s four half-crowns on the chimney-piece, \u201cI beg your\npardon if I seemed impertinent; I assure you I did not mean it,\u201d he said.\n\u201cI felt interested in you, and curious to know something more of you; but\nI had no right to put questions. Good-morning.\u201d He made a step towards\nthe door, but Baines, rousing himself, arrested him by a sign.\n\n\u201cI am not offended,\u201d he said. \u201cI saw quite well what made you ask it. You\nwould have every right to catechise me if I had come to you for help; as\nit is, your kindness and your brother\u2019s makes a claim which I am in no\nmind to dispute. If you don\u2019t mind shivering in this cold place for half\nan hour, pray sit down, and I will tell you my story. I have not a cigar\nto offer you,\u201d he added with a laugh, \u201cbut perhaps you don\u2019t affect that\nvice?\u201d\n\n\u201cI do indeed very considerably,\u201d said Marmaduke, and, pulling out a\nhandsome cigar-case, he handed it to Baines, and invited him to help\nhimself; the rag-man hesitated just for a moment, and then, yielding to\nthe instinct of his good-breeding, took one.\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s not an amusing story,\u201d he began, when they had sent up a few warm\npuffs from their fragrant weeds, \u201cbut it may not be uninteresting to you.\nYou are very young; would it be rude to ask how young?\u201d\n\n\u201cTwo-and-twenty next week, if I live so long,\u201d replied Marmaduke.\n\n\u201cHumph! I was just that age when I took the fatal turn in the road that\nled to the honorable career in which I am now embarked. My father was an\nofficer in the line. He had no fortune to speak of; a couple of thousand\npounds left him by an aunt was all the capital he possessed. When he was\nstill young, he married, and got three thousand pounds with his wife. I\nwas their only child. My father died when I was ten years old, and left\nme to the sole care of my mother, who made an idol of me and spoiled me\nto my heart\u2019s content. I was not a bad boy, I had no evil propensities,\nand I was not deficient in brains. I picked up things with little or no\neffort, and got on better at school than many who had twice the brains\nand four times the industry. I was passionately fond of poetry, learned\npages of Byron and Shelley by heart, and declaimed with a good deal of\npower. There could not have been a greater curse than such a gift to\na boy of my temperament and circumstances. When I left school, I went\nto Oxford. My poor mother strained every nerve to give me a university\neducation, with a view to my becoming a barrister; but instead of\nrepaying her sacrifices by working hard, I spent the greater part of my\ntime acting. I became infatuated about Shakspere, and took to private\ntheatricals with a frenzy of enthusiasm. As ill-luck would have it, I\nfell in with a set of fellows who were drama-mad like myself. I had one\ngreat chum named Hallam, who was stark mad about it, and encouraged me\nin the folly to the utmost. I soon became a leading star in this line.\nI was sought for and asked out by everybody in the place, until my head\ngot completely turned, and I fancied I had only to walk on to the stage\nto take Macready\u2019s place and achieve fame and fortune. The first thing\nthat roused me from the absurd delusion was seeing Charles Kean in\nMacbeth. I felt utterly annihilated under the superiority of his acting;\nit showed me in an instant the difference there is between ordinary taste\nand talent and the divine afflatus of genius. And yet an old friend who\nhappened to meet me in the theatre that night assured me that the younger\nKean was not a patch upon his father, and that Macready outshone the\nelder Kean. I went back to Oxford a crestfallen man, and for a time took\nrefuge from my disappointment in real work. I studied hard, and, when\nthe term came for going up for my degree, I was confident of success. It\nwas a vain confidence, of course. I had only given myself to study for\na period of two months or so, and it would have been little short of a\nmiracle if I had passed. My mother was terribly disappointed; the sight\nof her tears cut me up more than the failure on my own account, and I\ndetermined to succeed or die in the effort, if she consented to let me\nmake one more. She did consent, and I succeeded. That was the happiest\nday of my life, I think.\u201d He drew a long breath, and repeated in an\nundertone, as if he forgot Marmaduke\u2019s presence, and were speaking aloud\nto himself: \u201cYes, the happiest day of my life!\u201d\n\n\u201cYou worked very hard to pull up for lost time!\u201d observed Marmaduke.\n\n\u201cLost time! Yes, that was it--lost time!\u201d said Baines, musing; then\nhe continued in his former tone: \u201cMy poor mother was very happy. She\ndeclared I had repaid her amply for all her sacrifices. She saw me\nalready at the top of my profession, a Q.C., a judge, the chief of all\nthe judges, seated in robes on the woolsack. I came home, and was in due\ntime called to the bar. I was then just twenty-four. We lived in a pretty\nhouse on the road to Putney; but my mother thought it now desirable\nto move into London, that I might have an office in some central\nneighborhood, where my clients would flow in and out conveniently. I\nremember that I strongly opposed the plan, not from dislike, but from\nsome feeling like a presentiment, a dread, that London would be a\ndangerous place for me, and that I was taking the road to ruin by leaving\nthe shelter of our secluded home, with its garden and trees, away from\na thousand temptations that beset a young man in the great city. But\nmy mother\u2019s heart was set on it. She was convinced my character had\nthoroughly changed, that I had broken off for ever from old habits and\nold propensities, and that I was strong enough to encounter any amount\nof temptation without risk. Poor mother! It was no fault of hers if she\nwas blinded by love. The fault was all mine. I fed her with false hopes,\nand then I betrayed them. She gave in so far to my wishes as to consent\nonly to let the house, instead of selling it, as she first intended; so\nthat our removal to London took the appearance more of an essay than a\npermanent arrangement. I was thankful for this, and set about the change\nin high spirits. We were soon comfortably settled in a very small house\nin Wimpole Street. I found it rather like a bird-cage after our airy,\nroomy abode in the suburbs; but it was very snug, and my mother, who had\nwonderful taste, soon made it bright and pretty. She was the brightest\nand prettiest thing in it herself; people used to take her for my elder\nsister when she took me to parties of an evening. I was very proud of\nher, and with better reason than she was of me.\u201d\n\nHe paused again, looking up at the Shakspere print, as if he saw his\nmother\u2019s likeness there. The sunken, red eyes moistened as he gazed on it.\n\n\u201cIt is a great blessing to have a good mother,\u201d said Marmaduke. \u201cI lost\nmine when I was little more than a child.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo much the better for both of you,\u201d retorted Baines bitterly; \u201cshe\ndid not live for you to break her heart, and then eat out your own with\nremorse. But I am talking wildly. You would no doubt have been a blessing\nto her; you would have worked like a man, and she would have been proud\nof you to the end. It was not so with me. I was never fond of work. I\nwas not fond of it then; indeed, what I did was not worthy of being\ncalled work at all. I moped over a law-book for an hour or so in the\nmorning, and then read Shakspere or some other favorite poet, by way of\nrefreshing myself after the unpalatable task, and getting it out of my\nhead as quickly as possible. I went down regularly to the courts; but\nas I had no legal connection, and nothing in myself to make up for the\nwant of patronage, or inspire confidence in my steadiness and abilities,\nthe attorneys brought me no business; and as I was too lazy, and perhaps\ntoo proud, to stoop to court them, I began to feel thoroughly disgusted\nwith the profession, and to wish I had never entered it. I ceased to go\nthrough the farce of my law-reading of a morning, and devoted myself\nentirely to my dilettante tastes, reading poetry, and occasionally\namusing myself with writing it. My old longing for the stage came back,\nand only wanted an opportunity to break out actively. This opportunity\nwas not far off. My mother suspected nothing of the way I was idling my\ntime; she knew the bar was up-hill work, and was satisfied to see me kept\nwaiting a few years before I became famous; but it was matter of surprise\nto her that I never got a brief of any description. She set it down to\njealousy on the part of my rivals at the courts, and would now and then\nwax wroth against them, wondering what expedient could be devised for\nshowing up the corrupt state of the profession, and forcing my enemies to\nrecognize my superiority as it deserved. Don\u2019t laugh at her and think her\na fool; she was wise on every subject but this, and I fear I must have\ncounted for something in leading her to such ridiculous conclusions. I\nheld very much to preserving her good opinion, but, instead of striving\nto justify it by working on to the fulfilment of her motherly ambition,\nI took to cheating her, first tacitly, then deliberately and cruelly.\nThings were going on in this way, when one day, one ill-fated day, I\nwent out as usual in the afternoon, ostensibly to the courts, but really\nto kill time where I could--at my club, in the Row, or lounging in Pall\nMall. I was passing the Army and Navy Club, when I heard a voice call out:\n\n\u201c\u2018Halloo, Hamlet!\u2019 (This was the name I went by at Oxford, on account of\nmy success in the part.) \u2018How glad I am to see you, old boy! You\u2019re the\nvery man I\u2019ve been on the look-out for.\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018Hallam!\u2019 I cried, returning his friendly grasp, and declaring how\ndelighted I was to see him.\n\n\u201c\u2018I\u2019ve been beating about for you ever since I came to town, ten days\nago,\u2019 he said. \u2018I wrote to your old address, but the letter was sent back\nto me. Where have you migrated to; and what are you doing?\u2019\n\n\u201cI told him the brief history of my existence since we had parted at\nOxford, he to enter the army, I to begin my course of dinners-eating at\nthe Temple. He was now on leave; he had just come from the north, where\nhis regiment was quartered, and he was in high spirits at the prospect\nof his month\u2019s holiday. I asked him what it was he had been wanting me so\nparticularly for.\n\n\u201c\u2018I wanted to see you, first of all, for your own sake, old boy,\u2019 he\nanswered heartily; \u2018and in the next place I want you badly to help us\nto get up some private theatricals at the Duchess of B----\u2019s after\nEaster. I suppose you are a perfect actor--a Garrick and Charles Mathews\ncombined--by this time. You have had plenty of practice, I\u2019ll be bound.\u2019\n\n\u201cI assured him that I had not played since the last time he and I had\nbrought down the house together. He was immensely surprised, and loudly\ndeplored my mistake in burying such a talent in the earth. He called me a\nconceited idiot to have let myself be crushed by Kean, and vowed a year\u2019s\ntraining from a professional would bring me out a better actor than ever\nKean was. Amateur acting was all very well, but the finest untaught\ngenius ever born could no more compete successfully with a man who had\ngone through the regular professional drill than a civilian could with a\ntrained soldier in executing a military man\u0153uvre.\n\n\u201c\u2018I told you before, and I tell you again,\u2019 he continued, as arm in arm\nwe paced a shady alley of the park--\u2018I tell you that if you went on the\nstage you would cut out the best actor we have; though that is not saying\nmuch, for a more miserable, ignorant lot of drivelling idiots no stage\never saw caricaturing the drama than our English theatres can boast at\nthis moment.\u2019\n\n\u201cMy heart rose high, and my vanity swelled out like a peacock\u2019s tail,\npluming itself in this luxurious air of flattery. I knew Hallam meant\nwhat he said; but I knew that he was a light-headed young fellow, not at\nall competent to judge dramatic power, and still less to counsel me. Yet\nsuch is the intoxicating effect of vanity that I swallowed his praise as\nif it had been the purest wisdom. I opened my whole heart to him, told\nhim how insufferably bored I was at the bar, that I had no aptitude for\nit, that I was wasting my time waiting for briefs that never came--I did\nnot explain what pains I took to prevent their coming--until, kindling\nwith my own exaggerated statement as I went on, I ended by cursing the\nday I took to the bar, and declaring that if it were not for my mother I\nwould abandon the whole thing and try my luck on the stage to-morrow.\n\n\u201c\u2018And why should you let your mother stand in your way?\u2019 said Hallam. \u2018If\nshe is too unreasonable to see the justice of the case, why, then \u2026 well,\nI can\u2019t for the life of me see why your happiness and fortune should be\nsacrificed to it.\u2019\n\n\u201cHe was not a bad fellow--far from it. He did not mean to play the\ndevil\u2019s advocate. I am certain he thought he was giving me excellent\nadvice, using his superior knowledge of the world for my benefit. But he\nwas a fool--an ignorant, silly, well-meaning fool. Such men, as friends,\nare often worse than knaves. If he had proposed anything obviously\nwicked, dishonest, or unprincipled, I should have scouted it indignantly,\nand walked off in contempt. But he argued with a show of reason, in a\ntone of considerate regard for my mother\u2019s wishes and feelings that\ndeceived and disarmed me. He represented to me the folly of sticking to\na life that I hated and that I had next to no chance of ever succeeding\nin; he had a score of examples at his fingers\u2019 ends of young fellows\nteeming with talent, patient as asses, and hard working as negroes, who\nhad gone for the bar and given it up in despair. My mother, like all\nfond mothers, naturally expected me to prove an exception to the general\nrule, and to turn out a lord chancellor of the romantic sort, rising by\nsheer force of merit, without patronage, without money, without any of\nthe essential helps, by the power of my unaided genius. \u2018This is simply\nbosh, my dear fellow--innocent maternal bosh,\u2019 persisted Hallam, \u2018but as\ndangerous as any poison. Cut the bar, as your better genius prompts you\nto do, and take to your true calling--the drama.\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018For aught I know, I may have lost any talent I had,\u2019 I replied; \u2018it is\ntwo years, remember, since I acted at all.\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018That is very easily ascertained,\u2019 said my friend. \u2018You will take a part\nin these theatricals we are going to get up, and we will soon see whether\nyour talent has evaporated or not. My own impression is that it will come\nout stronger than ever; you have studied, and you have seen something, if\nnot very much, of life since your last attempts.\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018My mother has a horror of the theatre,\u2019 I said, unwilling to yield\nwithout a show of resistance; \u2018it would break her heart to see me take to\nthe stage.\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018Not if you succeed; hearts are never broken by success.\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018And how if I fail?\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018You are sure not to fail,\u2019 he urged. \u2018But look here: do nothing rashly.\nDon\u2019t say anything about this business until you have tried your hand at\nit in private. We have not settled yet what the play is to be; they left\nit to me to select, and I will choose one that will bring out your powers\nbest--not tragedy; that never was your line, in my opinion. At any rate,\nyou must for the present confine yourself to light parts, such as.\u2026\u2019\n\n\u201cI interrupted him in high dudgeon.\n\n\u201c\u2018Why, if I\u2019m not tragic, I\u2019m nothing!\u2019 I exclaimed. \u2018Every one who ever\nsaw me in Hamlet declared they had never seen the part so well rendered!\nAnd you said many a time that my Macbeth was.\u2026\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018First-rate--for an amateur; and I will say it again, if you like,\u2019\nprotested Hallam; \u2018but since then, I have seen real acting.\u2026\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018Then mine was not real? I can\u2019t for the life of me see, then\u2026\u2019 I broke\nin.\n\n\u201c\u2018Don\u2019t get so infernally huffy,\u2019 said Hallam, shaking my arm with\ngood-humored impatience. \u2018If you want to know what real, trained,\nprofessional acting is, you must go abroad, and see how the actors of the\nTh\u00e9\u00e2tre Fran\u00e7ais, for instance, study and train and drill. If you will\nstart with the English notion that a man can take to the stage as he does\nto the saddle, give up the plan at once; you will never rise above an\namateur. But to come back to our present purpose; we will select a part\nto suit you, and if the rehearsals promise a genuine success--as I have\nnot a doubt they will--we will invite your mother to come and see you,\nand she will be so proud of your triumph that the cause will be won.\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018My dear Hallam, it was some good fairy sent you in my way assuredly\nthis morning!\u2019 I cried, grasping his arm in delight.\n\n\u201cI was highly elated, and took to the scheme with enthusiasm. We spent\nthe afternoon discussing it. It was settled that the play should be _The\nTaming of the Shrew_; the part of Benedict would suit me to perfection,\nHallam declared, and I was so subdued by the amount of worldly wisdom and\ngeneral knowledge of life which he had displayed in his arguments about\nmy change of profession that I yielded without difficulty, and consented\nto forego tragedy for the present.\n\n\u201cFor the next week I was in a whirl of excitement. He took me to the Army\nand Navy Club, and introduced me to a number of swells, all military men,\nwho were very agreeable and treated me with a soldier-like cordiality\nthat charmed me. I fancied life must be a delightful thing in such\npleasant, good-natured, well-bred company; that I was now in my proper\nsphere; and that I had been hitherto out of place amidst rusty lawyers\nand hard-working clerks, etc. In fact, I was a fool, and my head got\nturned. I spent all my time in the day lounging about with Hallam and his\naristocratic captains and colonels, and the evenings I devoted to the\nbusiness of rehearsal, which was carried on at Lady Arabella Daucer\u2019s,\nthe married daughter of the duchess at whose house the theatricals were\nto be performed. I had been very graciously received by her grace, and\nconsequently all the lords and ladies who composed her court followed\nsuit. I was made as much of as if I had been \u2018one of them,\u2019 and my\nacting soon established me as the leading star of the select company.\nI suppose Hallam was right in saying that more mature reading and so\non had improved my dramatic talent; for certainly it came out with a\nbrilliancy that surprised myself. The artistic, high-bred atmosphere\nthat surrounded me seemed to infuse fresh vigor into me. I borrowed or\nrevealed a power that even my vanity had never suspected. Hallam was\nenchanted, and as proud of my success as if it had been his own.\n\n\u201c\u2018I can fancy how your mother will enjoy this!\u2019 he exclaimed one evening,\nas I walked home with him to his chambers in Piccadilly. \u2018She will be\nbeside herself with pride in you, old fellow. Fancy what it will be the\nnight of your first public representation! I expect a seat in her box,\nmind!\u2019\n\n\u201cIt was just two days before the grand night, and we were having our\nlast rehearsal--the final one--in the theatre at B---- House, which was\nlighted up and filled with a select few, in order to judge of the general\neffect for the following night. I was in great spirits, and acted better\nthan I had done yet. The audience applauded warmly, the ladies clapping\ntheir white-kid hands and shaking their handkerchiefs, that filled the\nair with the perfumes of Arabia, while the gentlemen, more audible in\ntheir demonstrations, cheered loudly.\n\n\u201cWhen it was over, we sat down to supper, about a hundred, of us. I sat\nnext the duchess, and my beautiful Katharina on the other side of me.\nShe was a lovely girl of twenty, a cousin of the duchess. I had been\nstruck by her beauty at the first, but the more I saw of her the less she\npleased me; she was a vain, coquettish young lady, and only tolerated\nme because I was useful as a good set-off to her acting, which, to be\njust, was excellent. I never saw anything so good off the stage, and\nvery seldom saw it equalled even there. Flushed with her recent triumph,\nwhich had borrowed additional lustre from mine she was more gracious\nand conversational than I had yet known her. I was flattered, though I\nknew perfectly how much the caprice was worth, and I exerted myself to\nthe utmost to be agreeable. We were altogether a very merry party; the\nchampagne flowed freely, and with it the spirits of the guests rose to\nsparkling point. As we rose from the table, some one called out for a\ndance before we broke up. The musicians had gone to have refreshments\nafter the rehearsal, but they were still in the house. The duchess, a\ngood-natured, easy-going person, who always agreed with everybody all\nround, at once ordered them in; people began to engage partners, and all\nwas laughing confusion round the supper-table. I turned to my pretty\nneighbor, and asked if she was engaged; she replied, laughing, that being\nneither a sibyl nor a clairvoyant, she could not have known beforehand\nthat there was to be dancing. \u2018Then may I have the honor of claiming\nyou for the first dance, whatever it may be?\u2019 I said; and she replied\nthat I might. I offered her my arm, and we took our way back into the\ntheatre, which was still brilliantly illuminated. We were to dance on the\nstage. As we were pushing on with the crowd, I felt a strong hand laid\non my arm, and, before I had time to prevent it, Lady Caroline\u2019s hand\nwas withdrawn, and the intruder stood between us. He was a square-built,\ndistinguished-looking man, not very young, but handsome and with the\n_beau_ stamped all over him.\n\n\u201c\u2018Excuse my want of ceremony,\u2019 he said in an easy, supercilious tone to\nme. \u2018I claim the first dance with Lady Caroline.\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018On what grounds?\u2019 I demanded stiffly. We were still moving on, carried\nwith the crowd, so it was impossible to make him stand aside or to regain\nmy post next Lady Caroline.\n\n\u201c\u2018On the grounds of her promise,\u2019 he replied haughtily.\n\n\u201cLady Caroline uttered a laughing \u2018O Lord George!\u2019 but did not draw away\nthe hand which he had so unceremoniously transferred from my arm to his.\n\n\u201c\u2018Lady Caroline made no engagement before she came here to-night,\u2019 I\nsaid, \u2018and she promised this dance to me. I refer you to herself whether\nthis be true or not.\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018Gentlemen are not in the habit of catechising ladies as to their\nbehavior--not, at least, in our set; and while you happen to be in it you\nhad better conform to its customs,\u2019 observed Lord George, without looking\ntowards me.\n\n\u201cI felt my blood boil so that it was an effort not to strike him. Two\nladies near me who had heard the passage between us cried, \u2018Shame! No\ngentleman would have said that!\u2019 This gave me courage to maintain my\nself-command. We were now in the theatre; the orchestra was playing a\nbrilliant prelude to a waltz, and Lord George, as if he had forgotten all\nabout me, prepared to start. I laid my hand peremptorily on his arm.\n\n\u201c\u2018In my set,\u2019 I said, and my voice shook with agitation, \u2018gentlemen don\u2019t\ntolerate gratuitous impertinence; you either make me an apology, or I\nshall exact reparation of another kind.\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018Oh! indeed. I shall be happy to hear from you at your convenience,\u2019\nsneered Lord George, with a low bow. He turned away, and said in a voice\nloud enough to be heard by me or any one else near, \u2018The puppy imagines,\nI suppose, that I would meet him in a duel. The next thing will be we\nshall have our footmen sending us challenges. Capital joke, by Jove!\nCome, we are losing time, Lady Caroline! The waltz is half over.\u2019\n\n\u201cThey were starting this time, when a voice behind me called out\nimperiously: \u2018A moment, Lord George Halberdyne! The gentleman whom you\nhave insulted is a friend of mine and a guest of the Duchess of B----;\ntwo conditions that qualify him, I think, to be an adversary of yours.\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018Oh! he\u2019s a friend of yours, is he?\u2019 repeated Lord George, facing\naround. \u2018That\u2019s a natural phenomenon that I shall not stop to investigate\njust now; but it certainly puts this gentleman in a new light.\nGood-evening, sir. I shall have the pleasure, probably, of seeing you\nto-morrow.\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018You shall, my lord,\u2019 I replied; and allowing Hallam to link my arm\nin his and draw me away, I turned my back on the brilliant scene, and\nhurried out of the house, feverish, humiliated, desperate.\n\n\u201c\u2018The idiot! The snob! You shall give him a lesson that he\u2019ll not forget\nin a hurry,\u2019 said Hallam, who seemed nearly as indignant and excited as\nmyself. \u2018Are you a good shot? Have you ever stood fire?\u2019\n\n\u201cI answered both questions in the negative. He was evidently put out; but\npresently he said in a confident tone:\n\n\u201c\u2018Well, it does not so much matter; you are the offended party, and\nconsequently you have the choice of weapons. It shall be swords instead\nof pistols. I suppose you\u2019re a pretty good swordsman?\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018My dear Hallam,\u2019 I said, \u2018you forget that these things are not in my\nline at all. I never handled a sword since we flourished them in the\nfencing hall at Oxford. In fact, if the choice be mine, as you say it is,\nI think I would do better to choose pistols. I have a chance with them;\nand if Lord George be a swordsman, I have none with the other.\u2019\n\n\u201cHallam seemed seriously disconcerted.\n\n\u201c\u2018It\u2019s not quite such an affair of chance as you appear to imagine,\u2019\nhe said. \u2018Halberdyne is one of the best shots in the service; he never\nmisses his mark; and he is a first-rate swordsman. \u2019Pon my honor I don\u2019t\nknow what to advise you.\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018I must stand advised by myself then, and here goes for pistols,\u2019 I\nsaid, trying to put a bold face on it, though I confess I felt anything\nbut cheerful at the prospect. \u2018You will stand by me, Hallam, will you\nnot?\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018Of course I will! I\u2019ve committed myself to as much already,\u2019 he\nanswered cordially; but I saw he was uncomfortable. \u2018I shall take your\ncard to the scoundrel to-morrow morning. I wonder who he\u2019ll have for\nsecond--that bully Roper, very likely,\u2019 he went on, talking more to\nhimself than to me.\n\n\u201c\u2018Is the meeting to take place to-morrow morning?\u2019 I inquired; and a\nsudden rush of anguish came on me as I put the question. I thought of my\nmother, of all that might be in store for her so soon.\n\n\u201c\u2018We must try and put it off for a day,\u2019 said Hallam. \u2018It is deucedly\nawkward, you see, if it comes off to-morrow, because of the play. You\nmay get hit, and it would be a terrible business if you were _hors de\nconcours_ for the evening.\u2019 There was something so grimly comical in the\nearnestness with which he said this that, though I was in no merry mood,\nI burst out laughing.\n\n\u201c\u2018A terrible business indeed!\u2019 I said. \u2018How exceedingly unpleasant for\nLady Caroline particularly to be left in the lurch on such an occasion!\nHowever, if I go to the wall, and Lord George comes off safe, he might\nget up the part in a hurry and replace me, eh?\u2019 I had hit the mark\nwithout knowing it. It was jealousy that had provoked Lord George to the\ngratuitous attack. I suppose there was something sardonic in my voice\nthat struck Hallam with the inappropriateness of his previous remarks. He\nsuddenly stopped, and grasping my arm warmly--\n\n\u201c\u2018I\u2019m used to this sort of thing, my dear fellow,\u2019 he said; \u2018but don\u2019t\nfancy from that that my feelings are turned to stone, or that I forget\nall that is, that may be, unpleasant in the matter. But there is no use\ntalking of these things; they unman a fellow, and he wants all his nerves\nin working order at a moment like this. Take my advice and go home now,\nand cool yourself by a quiet night for to-morrow\u2019s work, if it is to be\nto-morrow. You may have some letters to write or other things to attend\nto, and they had better be done at once.\u2019\n\n\u201cI replied that I had no letters to write and no business instructions\nto leave. The idea of facing my home, passing my mother\u2019s door, and then\ngoing to bed as if the world had not turned right round; as if all life,\nthe present and the future, were not revolutionized--this was what I did\nnot, at this moment at least, feel equal to, and I said so.\n\n\u201c\u2018I would rather go for an hour to the club,\u2019 I said, \u2018if you don\u2019t mind,\nand we will have a game of billiards. I don\u2019t feel inclined to go home,\nand I should not sleep if I went to bed.\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018Just as you like,\u2019 he said; \u2018but the night is so fine we may as well\ntake a few more turns in the open air. It does one good after those\nheated rooms.\u2019\n\n\u201cIt did me no good. I felt the most miserable man in this miserable\nworld. I would have given any happiness the world could have offered me\nto undo this night\u2019s work, to be as I was an hour ago, free, guiltless\nof projected murder or suicide. I repeated to myself that it was not\nmy fault; that I had been gratuitously provoked beyond endurance; that\nas a gentleman I could not have done otherwise; but these sophistries\nneither calmed nor strengthened me. Truer voices rose up and answered\nthem in clear and imperious tones that drowned the foolish comforters.\nWhy had I ever entered the society where my position exposed me to such\nresults? What business had I there? What good could it do myself or any\none else to have been tolerated, even courted, as I fancied I was, by\nthese fine people, who had nothing of any sort in common with me? I had\nforsaken my legitimate place, the profession that my mother had made\nsuch heavy sacrifices to open to me. I had deliberately frittered away\nmy life, destroyed my prospects of honorable success; and this is what\nit had brought me to! I was going either to shoot a man who had done me\nno graver injury than offend my pride and punish my folly, or to be shot\ndown by him--and then? I saw myself brought home to my mother dangerously\nwounded, dead perhaps. I heard her cry of agony, I saw her mortal\ndespair. I could have cried out loud for pity of her. I could have cursed\nmyself for my folly--for the mad, sinful folly that had rewarded her by\nsuch an awakening.\n\n\u201cThere is an electric current that runs from mind to mind, communicating\nalmost like an articulate voice the thoughts that are passing within us\nat certain moments. I had not spoken for several minutes, as we paced up\nand down Pall Mall, puffing our cigars in the starlight; but this current\nI speak of had passed from my brain to Hallam\u2019s, and informed him of what\nmy thoughts were busy on.\n\n\u201c\u2018Don\u2019t let yourself down, old boy,\u2019 he said good-naturedly. \u2018No harm\nmay come of it after all; I\u2019ve known a score of duels where both sides\ncame off with no more than a pin-scratch, sometimes with no scratch at\nall. Not that I suspect you of being faint-hearted--I remember what a\ndare-devil you were at Oxford--but the bravest of us may be a coward for\nothers.\u2019\n\n\u201cI felt something rise in my throat as if it would choke me. I could not\nget a word out.\n\n\u201c\u2018Who knows?\u2019 continued Hallam in his cheeriest tone; \u2018you may be\nbringing down the house to-morrow night, and your mother may be the\nproudest woman in London, seeing you the king of the company, cheered and\ncomplimented by \u201cfair women and brave men!\u201d I feel as sure of it, do you\nknow, as if I saw it in a glass.\u2019\n\n\u201cHe spoke in kindness, but the levity of his tone, the utter hollowness\nof his consolations, were intolerable. They mocked my misery; every word\npierced me like a knife. What evil genius had led me across this man\u2019s\npath? Only a few weeks ago I said it was the work of an angel, a good\nfairy, or some absurdity of the sort. It was more likely a demon that\nhad done it. If I had never met him, I said to myself, I would never\nhave known this hour; I should have been an innocent and a happy man.\nBut this would not do either. I was neither innocent nor happy when I\nmet him. I was false to my duty, wasting my life, and sick to death of\nboth; only longing for the opportunity which Hallam had brought me. If I\nhad not met him, I should have met or sought out some other tempter, and\nbitten greedily at the bait when it was offered. Still, I felt embittered\ntoward Hallam. I accused him, as if he had been the sole author of my\nmisfortune; as if I had been a baby or an idiot without free-will or\nresponsibility.\n\n\u201c\u2018Come into the club,\u2019 I said, dropping his arm and throwing away the end\nof my cigar.\n\n\u201cHe did not notice the impatient movement, but readily crossed over, and\nwe entered the club. The lofty, spacious rooms were blazing with light\nand filled with groups of men. Some were lounging on luxurious couches,\nreading the evening papers, some were chatting, some were playing cards.\nAn air of easy grandeur, prosperity, and surface happiness pervaded the\nplace. I felt horribly out of keeping with it all. I had no business\namongst these wealthy, fashionable men; I was like a skeleton stalking\ninto the feast. I believe it was nothing but sheer human respect, the\nfear of making myself ridiculous, that prevented me from turning on my\nheel and rushing straight out of the house. I mechanically took up the\n_Globe_, which a member tossed on to a table near me, and sat down as if\nI were going to read it.\n\n\u201c\u2018Leave that alone, and come into the billiard-room,\u2019 said Hallam. And he\nwhipped the paper out of my hands with brotherly unceremoniousness.\n\n\u201cI rose and followed him like a dog. I would have gone anywhere, done\nanything, he or anybody else suggested. Physically, I was indifferent to\nwhat I did; my brain on fire, I felt as if I were walking in a dream.\n\n\u201cWe were passing into the billiard-room when a gentleman who was seated\nat a card-table cried out to Hallam to come and join them. It was Col.\nLeveson, a brother officer and great friend of his. Hallam replied that\nhe was going on to have a pull at the balls; but he strolled over to see\nhow the game was going. I mechanically followed him. Some of the players\nknew me, and greeted me with a friendly nod. They were absorbed in the\ngame; it was lansquenet. I knew very little about cards; but lansquenet\nwas the one game that interested me. I had lost a few sovereigns a night\nor two before at it, and, as the luck seemed set in against the banker,\nit flashed over me I could not do better than to take a hand and win them\nback now. I did not, however, volunteer to join the game. In my present\nstate of smarting pride I would not run the risk of being made to feel\nI was an intruder. Unluckily, Hallam\u2019s friend, reading temptation on my\ncountenance perhaps, said, holding up his cards to me: \u201cI\u2019m in splendid\nvein, but I must be off. I\u2019ll sell you my hand for half a sovereign, if\nyou like.\u201d\n\n\u201c\u2018Done!\u2019 I said; and paying the half-sovereign, I sat down. I had\nscarcely taken his place when there was a noise in the adjoining room\nannouncing fresh arrivals. I recognized one loud, domineering voice above\nthe others, and presently Lord George Halberdyne came in.\n\n\u201c\u2018Going, Leveson?\u2019 he said. \u2018Luck against you, I suppose?\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018On the contrary, never was in better vein in my life,\u2019 replied the\ncolonel. \u2018I sold my hand for a song, because I have an appointment that I\ncan\u2019t forego.\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018Who\u2019s the lucky dog you sold it to?\u2019 asked Lord George.\n\n\u201c\u2018Mr. Botfield,\u2019 said Col. Leveson. (My real name is Botfield; I only\ntook the name of Baines when I fell into disgrace and misery.)\n\n\u201cLord George muttered an exclamation of some sort--whether of surprise or\nvexation I could not tell--and advanced to the table.\n\n\u201c\u2018Do you mind my joining you?\u2019 he said, appealing to nobody in\nparticular. There was a general assent, and he sat down. Hallam would not\ntake a hand. He hated cards; his passion was for billiards, and he played\nnothing else. He came and stood behind me to watch the game. I felt him\nlay his hand on my shoulder, as if to encourage me and remind me that he\nwas there to stand by me and take my part against my late bully, if needs\nbe. It did not seem as if he was likely to be called upon to do so. My\nlate bully was as gracious as man could be--at least he intended to be\nso; but I took his familiar facetiousness for covert impertinence, and it\nmade my blood boil quite as fiercely as his recent open insult had done.\nI was not man of the world enough to understand that Lord George was only\ndoing his duty to society; that he was in fact behaving beautifully, with\ninfinite tact, like an accomplished gentleman. I could not understand\nthat the social canons of his \u2018set\u2019 made it incumbent on a man to joke\nand laugh and demean himself in this lively, careless fashion towards\nthe man whom he was going to shoot in a few hours. I grew inwardly\nexasperated, and it was nothing but pride and an unprecedented effort\nof will that enabled me to keep my temper and remain outwardly cool. For\na time, for about twenty minutes, the luck continued in the same vein;\nmy half-sovereign had been paid back to me more than fifty times. Col.\nLeveson was right when he said he had sold his hand for a song. Hallam\nwas all this time standing behind my chair, smoking his cigar, and\nthrowing in a word between the puffs. The clock struck two.\n\n\u201c\u2018Come off now, Botfield,\u2019 he said, tapping me on the shoulder--\u2018come off\nwhile your star is shining; it is sure to go down if you stay too long.\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018Very likely, most sage and prudent mentor,\u2019 retorted Lord George;\n\u2018but that cuts both ways. Your friend has been pocketing our money up\nto this; it\u2019s only fair he should give us a chance of winning it back\nand pocketing a little of his. That is a law _universally_ recognized, I\nbelieve.\u2019 As he said this, he turned to me good-humoredly enough; but I\nsaw where the emphasis pointed, and, stung to the quick, I replied that I\nhad not the least intention of going counter to the law; I would remain\nas long as the game lasted.\n\n\u201c\u2018Halloo! That\u2019s committing yourself somewhat rashly,\u2019 interposed Hallam.\n\u2018You don\u2019t know what nefarious gamblers these fellows are; they\u2019re\ncapable of keeping it up till morning!\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018If they do, I shall keep it up with them,\u2019 I replied recklessly. I was\ndesperate, and my luck was good.\n\n\u201cHallam said no more, but sauntered to the other side of the table, where\nI _felt_ his eyes fixed on me warningly, entreatingly.\n\n\u201cI looked up at last, and met them fastened on me in a mute, impatient\nappeal. I answered it by a peremptory nod. He saw I would not brook\nfarther interference, so he took himself off to the billiard-room, and\ndid not reappear for an hour.\n\n\u201cI cannot recall clearly what passed during the interval. The luck had\nturned suddenly against me; but, nothing daunted, I went on playing\ndesperately, losing as fast as I had been winning, only in much heavier\nsums; for the stakes had risen enormously on the change of luck. There\nwas a large pool, immense it seemed to me--some two hundred pounds. I\nlost again and again. At last terror sobered me. I began to realize the\nmadness of my conduct, and wanted to withdraw; but they cried out against\nit, reminded me that I had pledged myself to remain and see the game out.\nLord George was loudest in protesting that I must remain. \u2018One can\u2019t have\nluck always,\u2019 he said, \u2018A man must put up with it when the tide turns. It\nis of good omen for you, Mr. Botfield,\u2019 he added pointedly; \u2018you will be\nin splendid luck to-morrow.\u2019\n\n\u201cI shuddered. I can remember the horrible, sick sensation that ran\nthrough me as he said this, lightly, pleasantly, as if he alluded to a\nrowing-match I had in view. I saw my mother\u2019s pale face beckoning me to\ncome away--to stop before I ruined her utterly. I almost made a movement\nto rise, but something glued me to the chair. The game went on. I again\nheld the bank, and again lost. I had no money about me except the forty\npounds or so I had won at the outset; but several leaves out of my\npocketbook were strewn about the table bearing I. O. U.\u2019s for nine times\nthat sum. I suppose by this time I had quite lost my senses. I know that\nI went on betting like a maniac, with the feverish, triumphant impulse of\na man in delirium. I was losing tremendously. I remember nothing except\nthe sound of my own voice and Lord George\u2019s calling _banco!_ again and\nagain, and how the cry ran through me like a blade every time, and how I\nhastily tore out fresh leaves and wrote down the sums I lost, and tossed\nthem to the winner, and went on. All this time we had been drinking\ndeeply of brandy and water. I was naturally abstemious, but to-night I\ndrank recklessly. The wonder was--and I was going to say the pity--that\nit had not stupefied me long ago, and so made me physically incapable\nof continuing my insane career. But excitement acted, I suppose, as an\nantidote, and prevented the alcohol from taking effect as it otherwise\nmust have done. At last Hallam came back. I have a vague recollection\nof hearing him exchange some remarks in an undertone with one of the\nplayers, who had given up and was now watching the game with a number\nof others who had dropped in from adjoining rooms. I then heard him\nsay, \u2018Good God! he is ruined twice over!\u2019 I heard nothing more. I had\nfallen back insensible in my chair. Everybody started up; the cards were\ndropped, and all was confusion and terror. It appears that at the first\nmoment they thought I was dead. A young guardsman present declared I\nwas, and that it was disease of the heart; a young kinsman of his had\ndropped down on parade only a month ago just in the same way. There was\na cry for a doctor, and two or three ran out to fetch one. Before he\narrived, however, I had given signs of returning consciousness. Up to\nthis moment Lord George had been anxiously looking on, silent and pale,\nthey said. He had borne me with Hallam to a couch in the next room, where\nthe air was free from cigar-fumes, and had opened the window to admit\nthe fresh night-breeze. He had done, in fact, what any humane person\nwould have done under the circumstances; but he had done it in a manner\nthat betokened more than ordinary interest. He drew an audible breath of\nrelief the moment he saw my eyelids quiver and heard me breathe like a\nman awaking to life. Hallam signed to him to leave the room; he did not\nwish his face to be the first I saw on opening my eyes. Lord George no\ndoubt understood; for he at once withdrew into the card-room. He drew the\ndoor after him, but he did not quite close it, so that I heard dreamily,\nyet distinctly, all that was said. Lord George\u2019s second for the morrow\u2019s\nmeeting, the Hon. Capt. Roper, inquired eagerly how I was going on. \u2018Oh!\nhe\u2019ll be all right presently,\u2019 was the reply, spoken in Lord George\u2019s\noff-hand way. \u2018There was nothing to make such a fuss about; the poor\ndevil was scared to see how much money he had lost, and fainted like a\ngirl--that\u2019s all.\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018Hallam says he is quite cleared out by to-night\u2019s ill-luck,\u2019 observed\nsome one.\n\n\u201c\u2018Served him right,\u2019 said Lord George; \u2018it will teach puppies of his kind\nnot to come amongst us and make fools of themselves.\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018And do you mean to shoot him to-morrow?\u2019 inquired the same voice.\n\n\u201c\u2018I mean to give him a chance of shooting me; unless,\u2019 he continued--and\nI saw in imagination, as vividly as if my bodily eyes had seen it,\nthe cold sneer that accompanied the remark--\u2018unless he shows the white\nfeather and declines fighting, which is just as likely.\u2019\n\n\u201cWhile this little dialogue had been going on in subdued tones close by\nthe door which opened at the head of the sofa where I lay, Hallam was\nconversing in animated whispers with two gentlemen in the window. He was\nnot more than a minute absent, when he returned to my side, and, seeing\nmy eyes wide open, exclaimed heartily: \u2018Thank God! he\u2019s all right again!\u2019\n\n\u201cI grasped his hand and sat up. They gave me some sal-volatile and water\nto drink, and I was, as he said, all right again. But it was not the\nstimulant that restored me, that gave me such sudden energy, and nerved\nme to act at once, to face my fate and defy it. I took his arm, and led\nhim, or let him lead me, to some quieter place near, and then I asked him\nhow much he thought I had lost.\n\n\u201c\u2018Don\u2019t think of that yet, my dear fellow,\u2019 he said; \u2018you are too done up\nto discuss it. We will see what can be done to-morrow.\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018Five thousand pounds!\u2019 I said. \u2018Do you hear that? Five thousand pounds!\nThat means that I am a beggar, which an\u2019t of much consequence; and that\nI\u2019ve made a beggar of my mother. She will have to sell the bed from under\nher to pay it, to save my honor. A curse upon me for bringing this blight\nupon her!\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018Tut! tut! man, don\u2019t take on like a woman about it!\u2019 said Hallam.\n\u2018These things can be arranged; no need to make matters out worse than\nthey are. I\u2019ll speak to Lord George, and see what terms we can make with\nhim.\u2019\n\n\u201cHe made me light a cigar, and left me alone, while he went back to\nparley with the man who held my fortune, my life, my all in his hands.\nI never heard exactly all that passed between them. I only know that in\nanswer to Lord George\u2019s question, put in a tone of insulting haughtiness,\n\u2018Has the fellow pledged himself for more than he\u2019s worth? _Can\u2019t_ he\npay?\u2019 Hallam replied: \u2018He can, but it will ruin him\u2019; upon which the\nother retorted with a laugh, \u2018What the devil is that to me?\u2019 and turned\nhis back on my second, who had nothing left but to take Capt. Roper aside\nand arrange for the morrow\u2019s meeting. He came back, and told me all was\nsettled; that Halberdyne was behaving like a brute, and would be tabooed\nin the clubs and every decent drawing-room before twenty-four hours. This\nthought seemed to afford him great satisfaction. It gave me none. Anguish\nhad drowned resentment. I could think of nothing except that I was a\nruined man, that I had beggared my mother, and that I was going to fight\na duel in a few hours. Richmond Park--6 A.M.--pistols at thirty paces!\nThis was how the appointment was notified by our seconds to both of us.\nSuddenly a light burst on me--a ray of hope, of consolation: I might be\nkilled in this duel, and, if so, surely my honor would be saved and my\ndebt cancelled. Lord George would not pursue my mother for the money.\nShe should know nothing of this night\u2019s work until after the meeting. If\nI escaped with a wound, I would tell her; if I died, who would have the\ncruelty to do so? I told Hallam of this sudden thought as he walked home\nwith me. He approved of it, and cheered me up by almost assuring me that\nI should be shot. Halberdyne was a dead-shot; it was most likely that I\nshould not leave the field alive.\n\n\u201cThe night passed--the few hours of it that must elapse before the time\nnamed for the meeting. 0 God! how did I live through them? And yet this\nwas nothing, absolutely nothing, compared to what was yet in store for\nme.\u2026\n\n\u201cThe duel took place. Lord George wounded me in the hip. He escaped\nunhurt; I fired in the air. I was carried home on a door, insensible.\nHallam had gone before to prepare my mother. For some weeks it was feared\nI would not live. Then amputation was talked of. I escaped finally with\nbeing a cripple for life. Before I was out of danger, Hallam\u2019s leave\nexpired, and he went to rejoin his regiment. He had been very assiduous\nin calling to inquire for me, had seen my mother, and, judging by her\npassionate grief that I was in a fair way not to recover, he had forborne\nmentioning anything about the five thousand pounds. She promised to write\nand let him know when any change took place. Meantime, she had found out\nmy secret. I had talked incessantly of it in my delirium, and with an\naccuracy of iteration that left no doubt on her mind but that there was a\nfoundation of truth in the feverish ravings. The doctor was of the same\nmind, and urged her to give me an opportunity of relieving my mind of the\nburden, whatever it was, as soon as this was possible.\n\n\u201cThe first day that I was strong enough to bear conversation she\naccordingly broached the subject. I inferred at once that Hallam had told\nher everything, and repeated the miserable story, only to confirm what I\nsupposed he had already said.\n\n\u201cMy mother was sitting by my bedside. She busied herself with teaseling\nout linen into lint for my wound, and so, purposely no doubt, kept her\nface continually bent or averted from mine.\n\n\u201cSeeing how quietly she took it, I began to think I had overrated the\nmisfortune; that we had larger resources in some way than I had imagined.\n\u2018Then it is possible for us to pay this horrible debt and save my honor,\nand yet not be utterly beggared, mother?\u2019 I said eagerly. She looked at\nme with a smile that must surely have been the reflex of some angel near\nher whom I could not see. \u2018Yes, my boy; he shall be paid, and we shall\nnot be beggars,\u2019 she said gently, and pressed my hand in both her own.\n\u2018You should have told me about it at once; it has been preying on your\nmind and retarding your cure all this time. I will see Mr. Kerwin to-day,\nand have it arranged at once. Promise me now, like a good boy, to forget\nit and think no more of it until you are quite well. Will you promise?\u2019\n\n\u201cI did not answer, but signed with my lips for her to kiss me. She rose\nand twined her arms around me, and let me sob out my sorrow and my love\nupon her breast.\n\n\u201cIt was about three days after this that she handed me a letter to read;\nit was from Lord George to Mr. Kerwin, and ran thus:\n\n    \u201cSIR: I beg to acknowledge the receipt of the sum of five\n    thousand pounds which you have forwarded to my lawyers in the\n    name of Mr. Botfield. I make this acknowledgment personally in\n    order to express my sincere satisfaction at the happy progress\n    of Mr. Botfield\u2019s recovery, and beg you will convey this\n    sentiment to him.--I remain, etc.,\n\n                                                     \u201cHALBERDYNE.\u201d\n\n\u201c\u2018Mother! mother!\u2019 I cried out, and opened my arms to her in a passion\nof tears. But she laid her finger smilingly on my lips, and made me be\nsilent. In a month hence, when I was well, we should talk it all over,\nbut not now.\n\n\u201cBefore the month was out, _she was dead_!\u201d\u2026\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nMarmaduke started to his feet with a cry of horror, and Botfield, unable\nto control the anguish that his own narrative evoked, dropped his head\ninto his hands, and shook the room with his sobs.\n\n\u201cO dear God! that I should have lived to tell it!--to talk over the\nmother that I murdered! Brave, tender, generous mother! I killed you, I\nbroke your heart, and then--then I brought shame upon your memory! O God!\nO God! why have I outlived it?\u201d He rocked to and fro, almost shouting in\nhis paroxysm of despair. Marmaduke had never beheld such grief; he had\nnever in his life been so deeply moved with pity. He did not know what to\nsay, what to do. His heart prompted him to do the right thing: he fell on\nhis knees, and, putting his arms around the wretched, woe-worn man, he\nburst into tears and sobbed with him.\n\nBotfield suffered his embrace for a moment, and then, pressing his horny\npalm on the young man\u2019s blond head, he muttered: \u201cGod bless you! God\nbless you for your pity!\u201d\n\nAs soon as they were both calmed, Marmaduke asked him if he would not\nprefer finishing the story to-morrow. But he signed to him to sit down;\nthat he would go on with it to the end.\n\n\u201cWhat is there more to tell?\u201d he said, sadly shaking his head.\n\n\u201cI was lying a cripple on my bed when she was carried to her grave.\nI was seized with a violent brain fever, which turned to typhus, and\nthey took me to the hospital. The servants were dismissed; they had\nreceived notice from my mother. She had foreseen everything, taken every\nnecessary step as calmly as if the catastrophe I had brought upon her\nhad been a mere change of residence for her own convenience. All we had\nwas gone. That brave answer of hers to my question about our resources\nwas a subterfuge of her love. If ever a sin was sinless, assuredly that\nhalf-uttered falsehood was. She had directed the lawyer to raise the\nmoney immediately, at every sacrifice. She meant to work for her bread,\nand trusted to me to make the task light and short to her. I would have\ndone it had she been spared to me. So help me God, I would! But now that\nshe was gone, I had nothing to work for. I left the hospital a cripple\nand a beggar. I did not even yet know to what an extent. I went straight\nto our old house, expecting to find it as I had left it--that is, before\nall consciousness had left me. I found it dismantled, empty; painters\nbusy on scaffolding outside. I went to Mr. Kerwin, and there learned the\nwhole truth. Nothing remained to me but suicide. Nothing kept me from it,\nI believe, but the prayers of my mother.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou were a Christian, then?\u201d interrupted Marmaduke in a tone of\nunfeigned surprise.\n\n\u201cI ought to have been. My father was, and my mother was; I was brought up\nas one, until I went to the university and lost what little belief I had.\nFor a moment it seemed to come back to me when I found myself alone in\nthe world. I remember walking deliberately down to the river\u2019s side when\nI left the lawyer\u2019s office, fully determined to drown myself. But before\nI reached the water, I heard my mother\u2019s voice calling so distinctly to\nme to stop that I felt myself arrested as by some visible presence. I\nheard the voice saying, \u2018Do you wish never to see me again even in the\nnext world?\u2019 Of course it was the work of imagination, of my over-wrought\nfeelings; but the effect was the same. I stopped, and retraced my steps\nto Mr. Kerwin\u2019s.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt was your guardian angel, perhaps your mother\u2019s, that saved you,\u201d said\nMarmaduke.\n\n\u201cOh! I forgot,\u201d said Botfield. \u201cYour brother is a Catholic; I suppose you\nare too?\u201d\n\nMarmaduke nodded assent; he felt that his Catholicity was not much\nto boast of. Like the poor outcast before him, he had lost his faith\npractically, though he adhered to it in name.\n\n\u201cYes, it was an angel of some sort that rescued me,\u201d said Botfield; \u201cit\nwas no doubt my own fault if the rescue was not complete. I went back\nto Mr. Kerwin, and asked him to give me, or get me, something to do.\nMy chance on the stage was at an end, even if I could have turned to\nthat: I was dead lame. He got me a situation as clerk in an office; but\nthe weariness of the life and the pressure of remorse were more than\nI could bear. I took to drink. They forgave me once, twice; the third\ntime I was dismissed. But of what use is it to go over that disgusting,\npitiable story? Step by step I went down, lower and lower, sinking each\ntime into fouler depths, drinking more loathsome draughts, wallowing in\nmire whose very existence such as you don\u2019t dream of. I will spare you\nall those details. Enough that I came at last to what you see me. One\nday when hunger was gnawing me, and even the satanic consolation of the\npublic-house was shut against me for want of a sixpence to pay for a\nglass of its diabolical elixir, I fell in with a man of the trade; he\noffered me work and bread. Hunger is not a dainty counsellor. I closed\nwith the offer, and so sank into the last slough that humanity can take\nrefuge in.\u2026\n\n\u201cNow, Mr. Walpole, you have heard my history; it was a pain, and yet,\nsomehow, a relief, to me to tell it. It has not been a very pleasant\none for you to listen to; still, I don\u2019t regret having inflicted it on\nyou. You are very young; you are prosperous and happy, and, most likely,\nperfectly free from any of the temptations that have been the bane of my\nlife; still, it never hurts a young man starting in life to hear an older\nman\u2019s experience. If ever temptation should come near you, dash it from\nyou with all your might; scorn and defy it from the first; hold no parley\nwith it; to treat with perdition is to be lost.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou have done me a greater service than you know of,\u201d said Marmaduke,\nrising and preparing to take leave of his singular entertainer. \u201cPerhaps\none day I may tell you.\u2026\u201d He took a turn in the narrow room, and then,\ncoming back to Botfield, resumed in an agitated manner: \u201cWhy should I not\nown it at once? You have trusted me with all; I will tell you the truth.\u201d\n\nBotfield looked up in surprise, but said nothing.\n\n\u201cI stand on the very brink of the abyss against which you warn me. Like\nyou, I am a barrister; like you, I hate my profession, and spend my time\nreading poetry and playing at private theatricals. They are my passion.\nA few nights ago I tried my luck at cards, and won. This tempted me; I\nplayed last night and lost--precisely the sum of twenty pounds.\u201d\n\nBotfield started and uttered a suppressed exclamation.\n\n\u201cI am in debt--not much--a mere trifle, if it lead to no worse! You see\nnow what a service you may have done me; who knows? Perhaps my mother\u2019s\nguardian angel prompted you to tell me your story as a warning, to save\nme before it was too late! I know that I came here to-day at the bidding\nof an angel; and reluctant enough I was to take the message!\u201d\n\n\u201cI never thought to be of use to any one while I lived,\u201d said Botfield\nwith emotion. \u201cI bless God, anyhow, if my wretched example proves a\nwarning to you. Who sent you to me? I understood it was your brother?\u201d\n\n\u201cSo it was; but it was to please my sister that I consented to come. She\nis one of those angels that people talk about, but don\u2019t often see. You\nwill let her come and see you, Mr. Botfield, will you not?\u201d\n\nHe held out his delicate lavender kid hand, and pressed Botfield\u2019s grimy\nfingers cordially.\n\nWhen Marmaduke got home, he inquired at once where his sister was, and,\nhearing she was in her room, he crept up quietly to the door and knocked.\nHe entered so quietly that Nelly had scarcely time to jump off her knees.\nMarmaduke saw at once that he had taken her by surprise; he saw also that\nher eyes were red.\n\n\u201cWhat is the matter?\u201d she asked, with a frightened look. \u201cHas anything\nhappened? You have been away so long! What kept you, Marmaduke? Where\nhave you been?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhere you sent me.\u201d\n\n\u201cTo Stephen\u2019s poor man? Why, you have been out nearly two hours! It did\nnot take all that time to give your message?\u201d said incredulous Nelly, and\nher heart beat with recent apprehension.\n\n\u201cNo; but Stephen\u2019s poor man had a message for me. Sit down here, and\nI will tell you what it was. But how cold you are, darling! You are\npositively perished! Where have you been?\u201d\n\n\u201cHere,\u201d said Nelly.\n\n\u201cEver since I went out?\u201d\n\n\u201cEver since you went out.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat were you doing?\u201d he persisted, fixing a strange look on her.\n\nShe blushed, hesitated, and then said simply, \u201cI was praying for you,\nMarmaduke.\u201d\n\nHe folded her in his arms, and whispered, \u201cI was right to say it was an\nangel sent me.\u201d\n\nThen, taking a warm shawl that he saw hanging up, he wrapped her in it,\nand sat down beside her, and told the story as it had been told to him.\nWhen it was over, Nelly\u2019s head was on his breast, and the brother\u2019s tears\nof penitence were mingling with the sister\u2019s tears of joy.\n\n\u201cLet us go down now and tell Stephen,\u201d said Marmaduke, when he had\nfinished.\n\n\u201cWill you tell him everything?\u201d asked Nelly.\n\n\u201cYes, everything.\u201d\n\n\u201cDear Marmy! I am so happy I could sing for joy,\u201d she said, smiling\nthrough her tears. \u201cLet us kneel down here and say one little prayer\ntogether; will you?\u201d\n\nAnd he did.\n\n\u201cHow did you thaw the man and break up the ice he seemed to be buried\nunder?\u201d was Stephen\u2019s amazed inquiry when other more precious and\ninteresting questions were exhausted.\n\n\u201cI merely did what Nelly told me,\u201d said Marmaduke: \u201cI listened to him.\u201d\n\nOn Christmas morning Marmaduke announced his intention of dining out.\nIt was a sacrifice to all three, but no one opposed him. Nelly made\nup a store of provisions, including a hot plum-pudding, which was put\nwith other steaming hot dishes into the ample basket that the gay young\nman carried off in a cab with him to Red Pepper Lane. There he found a\nclean hearth, a blazing fire, and a table spread with a snowy cloth, and\nall necessaries complete. Some fairy had surely been at work in that\ngloomy place. The host was clean and brushed, looking like an eccentric\ngentleman in his new clothes amidst those incongruous surroundings.\nHe and Marmaduke unpacked the basket with many an exclamation at its\ninexhaustible depths. That was the happiest, if not the very merriest,\nChristmas dinner that ever Marmaduke partook of.\n\nWhen it was over, and they were puffing a quiet cigar over the fire,\nsteps were heard on the rickety stairs, and then a knock at the door, and\na silvery voice saying: \u201cMay we come in?\u201d It was Stephen and Nelly.\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t see why you should have all the pleasure to yourself,\u201d said\nNelly, with her bright laugh; \u201cyou would never have been here at all if I\nhad not teased you into taking the message!\u201d\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nIf this were a romance instead of a true episode, the story should end by\nthe some-time rag-and-bone man becoming a Catholic, rising to wealth and\ndistinction, and marrying Nelly. But the events of real life don\u2019t adjust\nthemselves so conveniently to the requirements of the story-teller.\nStephen Walpole got Mr. Botfield a situation in the post-office, where,\nby good conduct and intelligent diligence, he rose gradually to a\nposition of trust, which was highly paid. He never married. Who knows?\nPerhaps he had his little romance, and never dared to tell it.\n\n\nTHE PROTESTANT EPISCOPAL CHURCH CONGRESS.\n\nThe second annual Congress of the Protestant Episcopal Church in the\nUnited States was held at Philadelphia during the early part of November.\nChurch congresses are new things in this country, and the Episcopalians\nare not yet quite at home in them. Their first experiment, made at New\nYork in 1874, was not wholly successful. Some of their leading bishops\nand presbyters treated it rather cavalierly, apparently in the fear that\nit was going to weaken the bonds of ecclesiastical discipline, and open\nvexatious questions which the church for years had been expending all its\nlearning and ingenuity in trying _not_ to answer. But church congresses\nseemed to be very proper and respectable things for every denomination\nwhich laid claim to antiquity: they are common in the mother-church of\nEngland; they are efficient and interesting organizations in what our\nAnglican friends are pleased to call the Roman branch of the church of\nChrist; Dr. D\u00f6llinger has them regularly in the Old-Catholic \u201cbranch\u201d;\nand so the originators of the movement in the American \u201cbranch\u201d have\npersevered in their attempt to establish them here. The meeting in\nPhiladelphia appears to have been all that its promoters could have\nreasonably expected. The denominational papers of various shades of\nopinion concur in believing that the permanency of the Congress as an\nannual institution is now nearly secured; and we find one of these\njournals rejoicing that the meeting passed off with \u201centire cordiality,\u201d\nand that nothing in the proceedings \u201celicited prejudice or excited\nhostile action.\u201d This indeed was something to boast of. Perhaps it would\nhave been still more gratifying had not the same paper explained that\nthis unexpected peaceableness of the Congress arose \u201cfrom the fact that\nno resolutions were adopted, no legislation proposed, no elections held.\nWhen any of these are distinctly in view, those who participate range\nthemselves into parties, and it is almost impossible not to resort to\nmeasures to ensure victory which generate unkind feelings and provoke\nexaggerated statements.\u201d All which gives us a queer idea of the manner\nin which the Holy Ghost is supposed to operate in the councils of the\nProtestant Episcopal Church. But no matter. Let us be glad, for the\nsake of propriety, that this was merely a meeting for talk, and not\nfor action. The strict rules applicable to conventions, synods, and\nother business meetings were not in force. The topics of discussion were\nnot so much points of doctrine as minor questions of discipline and\nmethods of applying the machinery of the church to the every-day work\nof religion. And with the knowledge that no vote was to be taken upon\nany subject whatever, the Congress unanimously agreed to let every man\nsay what he pleased. The great variety of irreconcilable things which it\naccordingly pleased the gentlemen to say seems to have attracted remark,\nand denominational papers point to it with pride as a proof of the large\ntoleration allowed within the bosom of the church. If they like it, far\nbe it from us to interfere with their enjoyment.\n\nThe Episcopal Church is one of the largest and richest of the Protestant\nsects. Its clergy are popularly supposed to boast of more general\nculture and enjoy fuller opportunities for study than those of the other\nreligious bodies, and its people are found in large numbers among the\neducated and well-to-do classes. A congress of this church, gathered\nfrom all parts of the country, representing all shades of opinion, and\npossessing almost unbounded facilities for talk and deliberation, ought\ntherefore to have elicited a great deal that was worth remembering. The\nprogramme of the sessions was stated in an alluring manner by Bishop\nClarke, of Rhode Island, who made the introductory address. \u201cWe come,\u201d\nsaid he, \u201cto consider how the doctrine and organization of the church can\nbe brought most effectually to sanctity\u201d; and then he went on to speak\nbriefly of the particular things, in our daily experience, which the\nchurch ought to purify and bless--our business affairs, our amusements,\nour care of the poor, our family relations, the marriage tie--practical\npoints all of them, and points, too, in which the church and the state\nare more or less in contact.\n\nWell, having laid out this plan of work, how did the Congress address\nitself to it? The first session gave a rather curious illustration of\nthe practical spirit of the assemblage; for the reverend gentlemen,\nby way of \u201cbringing the doctrine and organization of the church most\neffectually to sanctity,\u201d rushed straightway with hot haste into the\nsubject of \u201cultramontanism and civil authority,\u201d and pounded upon the\ndoors of the Vatican the whole afternoon. The Rev. Francis Wharton, D.D.,\nof Cambridge, Mass., was careful in the outset to distinguish between\nultramontanism and the Roman Catholic Church in the United States. The\nmass of us, he believes, have always been loyal to the territory of whose\npopulation we form a part, but our loyalty has no connection with our\nreligion. If we followed the teachings of our church, Dr. Wharton thinks\nwe should be a dangerous set of people. \u201cUltramontanism teaches that the\nPope, a foreign prince, deriving his support from a foreign civilization,\nis entitled to set aside governments which he considers disloyal, and to\nannul such institutions as he does not approve.\u201d We confess that we do\nnot know what Dr. Wharton means by the Pope deriving his support from a\nforeign civilization. If he means his physical support, then the doctor\nis both wrong and right; for that is derived from the faithful of the\nwhole world. If he means that his authority is derived from a foreign\ncivilization, then the doctor is apparently irreverent; for the papal\nauthority is derived from the institution of Our Lord Jesus Christ, and\nsurely a respectable Cambridge divine would not call that a foreign\ncivilization.\n\nAs for the distinction which is drawn between American and ultramontane\nCatholics, let us repudiate it with all possible warmth before we go\nany further. Ultramontanism is an objectionable word, because it was\ninvented to localize a school of religious doctrine which is the only\n_catholic_ school--the school acknowledged all over the world; but if it\nbe understood as defining that spirit of faith and piety which yields\nall love and obedience to the Vicar of Christ, accepts all the Vatican\ndecrees gladly and without reserve, is not afraid of paying too much\nrespect to the Holy See, or showing too much humility before God, or\nbelieving one little particle more than we are commanded to believe\nunder pain of anathema, then the Catholics of America are ultramontane\nCatholics to a man. Probably there are no Catholics in any country of\nthe world less disposed to compromise in matters of religious duty,\nand more thoroughly imbued with filial reverence and love for the Head\nof God\u2019s church on earth, than the Catholics of the United States. The\nspirit of the church in Rome is the spirit of the church in America; and\nwhen Dr. Wharton asserts that \u201cthe political tenets of ultramontanism\nare repudiated by the leading Catholic statesmen of our land,\u201d he makes\nan utterly erroneous statement, against which American Catholics will\nbe the first to protest. It is very true that with the fictitious\nultramontanism conceived of his fears and prejudices neither Americans\nnor any other sensible people have the slightest sympathy. But show us\nwhat Rome teaches, and there you have precisely what the church in the\nUnited States accepts. If it is true, therefore that the Pope claims\nauthority \u201cto set aside governments which he considers disloyal, and\nto annul such institutions as he does not approve,\u201d it must be true\nthat America upholds his pretensions. Dr. Wharton may live in the fear\nthat His Holiness will some day send the Noble Guard to set aside the\ngovernment of Gen. Grant whenever it becomes \u201cdisloyal\u201d; while he may\nwell feel an absolute certainty that our common-school system, our\nconstitutional prohibition of the establishment of a state church, our\nlaws against sectarian appropriations, and various other wicked and\nheretical provisions found on our statute-books, will sooner or later be\n\u201cannulled\u201d by a decree from the Vatican. He need not flatter himself that\nany superior enlightenment among the Catholics of America will save the\nProtestant community from the miserable fate in store for it. We are not\na bit wiser or better than the Pope.\n\nThe possible interference of the Vatican with our Congresses and\nballot-boxes Dr. Wharton evidently regards as a very remote danger. There\nare points, however, he thinks, where the Vatican clashes every day with\nthe civil power, and where it ought to be resisted with all the energy\nat our command. And just at this part of the reverend doctor\u2019s address\nwe should like very much to have seen the face of Bishop Clarke. In his\nintroductory remarks Bishop Clarke told the Congress that one of the\nmost important subjects for churchmen to consider was the influence or\nauthority of the church over the family relations. \u201cThe Gospel obtained\nhold of the family before it touched the state. How does the condition\nof the marriage bond stand to-day? In some of our States it is as easy\nto solve it as it is to join it. Is this the religion of which we have\nmade such boast?\u201d But here, before the echoes of the bishop\u2019s words\nhave fairly died away, is the Rev. Dr. Wharton on his feet denouncing\nas a crime the very interference which Bishop Clarke inculcated as a\nduty. It is one of the usurpations of ultramontanism, says the Cambridge\ndoctor, to annul civil marriages which the state holds binding, and to\ntreat as invalid divorces which the state holds good. This is one of\nthe most serious conflicts between the state and the Vatican, and it\nis one, if we understand aright the somewhat imperfect report of his\nremarks, in which Protestant Episcopalians must prepare themselves to\ntake an earnest part, remembering that, while their church is free, it\nis \u201ca free church within a free sovereign state, and that this state,\nin its own secular sovereignty, is supreme.\u201d Here, then, we have a\ndistinct declaration that the family relation is not a proper subject of\nreligious regulation. If the state sees fit to make it as easy to loose\nthe marriage bond as to tie it, the church has no right to object; it\nis a secular matter, and the free sovereign state is supreme in its own\nsecular sovereignty. If the state sanctions an adulterous connection, the\nProtestant Episcopal Church must revise its Bible and bless the unholy\ntie; it is a secular matter, and the free sovereign state is supreme\nin its own secular sovereignty. The sanctity of the family relation is\nunder the protection of the church, says Bishop Clarke. No such thing,\nreplies Dr. Wharton--that is an insolent ultramontane pretension; the\nProtestant Episcopal Church knows its place, and does not presume to\ninterfere with the legislature. \u201cThe Gospel obtained hold of the family\nbefore it touched the state,\u201d says the bishop. \u201cOh! well, we have changed\nall that,\u201d rejoins the doctor; the glory of the Protestant Episcopal\ngospel nowadays is that it lets the family alone. In point of fact,\nEpiscopalianism is not quite so bad as this hasty advocate would have\nus believe; for it does censure, in a mild way, the laxity of some of\nthe divorce laws, and does not always lend itself to the celebration of\nbigamous marriages. But Dr. Wharton is correct in his main position--that\nhis church leaves to the state the control of the family relation;\nand if she shrinks from the logical consequences of her desertion of\nduty, that is only because a remnant of Catholic feeling remains to her\nin the midst of her heresies and contradictions. The time must come,\nhowever, when these illogical fragments of truth will be thrown away,\nand the Protestant Episcopal Church will take its place beside the other\nProtestant bodies in renouncing all right to be heard on one of the most\nimportant points of contact between the law of God and the concerns of\nevery-day life. It is impossible to allow the civil power to bind and\nloose the family tie at pleasure, without admitting that the subject is\nentirely outside the domain of ecclesiastical supervision. The attempt of\nthe Episcopal Church to compromise on adultery is an absurdity, and in\nthe steady course of Protestant development it will surely be abolished.\n\nIs there any particular in which the Protestant Episcopal Church fairly\ntakes hold of the family? We have seen that she abandons to politicians\nthe sacred tie between the parents; what has she to do with the next\ndomestic concern--the education of the child? Dr. Wharton holds it to\nbe one of her distinguishing claims to public favor that she abandons\nthis duty also to the secular power. The right to control education,\naccording to him, is, like the right to sanction the marriage tie, one of\nthe insolent pretensions of the Vatican usurper. The state, he thinks,\nis bound not only to educate all its subjects, but to decide what points\na secular education shall cover, while the church may only add to this\nirreligious training such pious instruction as the child may have time\nand strength to receive after the more serious lessons are over. \u201cThe\nchurch,\u201d he says, \u201cconcedes to the state the right and duty to require\na secular education from all, while for itself it undertakes, as a free\nchurch in a free state, the right and duty to give a religious education\nto all within its reach.\u201d Expressed in somewhat plainer English, this\nmeans that thirty hours a week ought to be given to the dictionary\nand multiplication table, and one hour to the catechism and the ten\ncommandments. Send your children to schools all the week where they\nwill hear nothing whatever of religion, where that most vital of all\nconcerns will be a forbidden subject, where the idea will be practically,\nif not in so many words, impressed upon their tender minds that it is\nof no consequence whether they are Christians, or Jews, or infidels,\nso long as they master the various branches of worldly knowledge which\npromote success in the secular affairs of life; and then get them\ninto Sunday-school if you can, for a wild and ineffectual attempt to\ncounteract the evil tendencies of the previous six days\u2019 teachings.\nThis is trying to give a Christian education without the corner-stone\nof Christian doctrine; building a house upon the sand, and then running\naround it once a week with a hatful of pebbles and a trowel of mud to\nput a foundation under the finished structure. Dr. Wharton seems to\nembody in his own person a surprising variety of the inconsistencies for\nwhich the Protestant Episcopal Church has such a peculiar celebrity.\nFor here, after he has claimed credit for his church as the champion of\na secular education, he tells the Congress that secularism is one of\nthe great dangers of the age, against which the church must fight with\nall her strength. \u201cThe battle with secularism has to be fought out.\u201d It\nmust be fought \u201cby the church, and eminently by our own church. Our duty\ntherefore is to fit ourselves for the encounter, and we must do this\nwith the cause of religion, undertaking in its breadth and embracing\nall branches of religious, spiritual, and ethical culture.\u201d Well, but,\ndear sir, you have just said that during the most important period of\nman\u2019s intellectual development, when the mind is receiving impressions\nwhich are likely to last through life, the church ought to stand aside\nand let the state _teach_ secularism without hindrance. Are you going to\ncultivate secularism in the young until it becomes firmly rooted, and\nthen fight against it with sermons and essays which your secularized\nyoung men will not listen to? How do you expect to impart religious,\nspiritual, and ethical culture when you have formally renounced your\ninestimable privilege and your sacred duty as a guide and teacher of\nchildren? You propose to wait until your boys have come to man\u2019s estate\nbefore you attempt to exercise any influence upon them; and then, when\nthey have grown up with the idea that religious influence ought to be\navoided as one avoids pestilence, you wonder and complain that they\nare indifferent to the church and will not hear you. \u201cThe battle with\nsecularism has to be fought out.\u201d Your way of fighting is to abandon the\noutposts, leave front and rear and flanks unprotected, and throw away\nyour arms.\n\nIt was one of the peculiarities of the Congress that whatever error\nwas promulgated in the essays and debates, somewhere in the course\nof the sessions an antidote was sure to be furnished--this being an\nillustration, we suppose, of the extreme toleration of opinion to\nwhich Bishop Clarke referred as \u201csomewhat singular\u201d in a church \u201cso\nfixed in its doctrines.\u201d Hence we need not be surprised to find in\nthe second day\u2019s proceedings a refutation of the educational theories\npropounded during the first. Dr. Wharton made use of the principle of\nsecular schooling as a weapon of offence against the Vatican. But when\nthe delegates had relieved their minds and vindicated their Protestant\northodoxy by giving the poor Pope about as much as he could stagger away\nwith, they turned their attention to their own condition, and one of\ntheir first subjects of inquiry was what secular education had done for\nthem. The topic of consideration on the second morning was \u201cThe Best\nMethods of Procuring and Preparing Candidates for the Ministry.\u201d Dr.\nSchenck of Brooklyn began by stating that the supply of candidates for\nholy orders was not only inadequate to the needs of the church, but it\nwas falling off--a smaller number offering themselves to-day than six\nor seven years ago. This, said he, should excite the gravest concern of\nthe church; and nobody seemed disposed to contradict him. Dr. Edward\nB. Boggs indeed presented some uncomfortable statistics which tell the\nwhole story. In 1871, the number of resident presbyters of the Episcopal\nChurch in the United States was 2,566; in 1874, it was only 2,530. Here,\nthen while the population increases the clergy are diminishing. A great\nmany reasons were suggested for the phenomenon. One thought the question\nof salary was at the bottom of the evil. Another blamed mothers for not\ngiving their boys a taste for the ministry while they were young. A third\nbelieved the trouble was too little prayer and too much quarrelling\nover candles and ecclesiastical millinery. And more than one hinted in\nthe broadest terms that the ministry was discredited by having too many\nfools in it.[174] The truth, however, which had been vaguely suggested by\nsome of the earlier speakers, was plumply told by Dr. Edward Sullivan of\nChicago. \u201cThe church,\u201d said he, \u201cmust learn to supply the ranks of the\nministry from her own material\u201d--that is to say, by giving the children\nof the church a Christian education. He lamented the exclusion of the\nBible from some of the common schools as a national calamity--not, if we\nunderstand him, because he has any overweening faith in the efficacy of\nBible-reading _per se_, but because he knows that when positive religious\nteaching is banished from the school, the children can hardly fail to\ngrow up without any religious feeling whatever. \u201c_Until we establish\nparochial church schools_,\u201d he continued, \u201c_we can never solve this\nproblem._\u201d And he might have added that if the teaching of secularism\nis to be continued for a generation or two longer, the problem will\nsolve itself: there will be no need of preachers when there cease to be\ncongregations.\n\nIf such an alarming phenomenon as an actual falling off in the numbers\nof the clergy were noticed in our own holy church, it would perhaps\noccur to good Catholics to inquire whether the bishops were doing all\nthat they ought to do for the souls of their people. But the Episcopal\nCongress at Philadelphia seems to have been vexed with the idea that the\nbishops were doing entirely too much. Looking at the assemblage from\nthe outside, we cannot pretend to see the under-currents of opinion, or\nto comprehend the denominational politics; but it was plain both from\nthe tone of the addresses in the session set apart for considering the\n\u201cNature and Extent of Episcopal Authority\u201d and from the manner in which\nsome of the remarks of the speakers were received, that a jealousy of\nepiscopal authority prevailed with considerable bitterness. Dr. Vinton\nof Boston drew a parallel between the government of the church and the\ngovernment of the state; both were ruled by executives appointed by\nlaw and controlled by law, and in each case the chief officer acted by\nthe assumed authority of those he governed. The bishops therefore, we\ninfer, have just as much power as the people choose to give them, and\nwe see no reason why the congregations should not enlarge and restrict\nthat power at pleasure--make a new constitution, if they wish, every\nyear, and treat their prelates as the savage treats his idol, which he\nsets upon an altar for worship in the morning, and if things go not well\nwith him, kicks into the kennel at night. Indeed, since the foundation\nof the Anglican Church the episcopate has always been treated with scant\nceremony. Dr. Vinton tells us that it is a reflex of the political\norganization, and as that has varied a great deal in England and America,\nand is not unlikely in the course of time to vary a great deal more,\nwe must not be surprised to find the system undergoing many strange\nmodifications and holding out the promise of further change indefinitely.\nIn the primitive church, the episcopacy was a despotism. In the Anglican\nChurch, it is \u201cmerely an ecclesiastical aristocracy.\u201d In the Protestant\nEpiscopal Church of America, where the exigencies of politics have to be\nconsidered, it is--well, that is just what the Congress tried in vain to\ndetermine. For one thing, Dr. Vinton and other speakers after him laid\ngreat stress upon the fact that its authority was carefully circumscribed\nby statute, and that the church was a corporation--though whence it\nderived its charter nobody was good enough to tell us. In truth, we did\nnot find the day\u2019s proceedings edifying. Dr. Vinton declared that an\norganic evil of the church constitution, \u201cboding more of mischief and\nsorrow to the body of Christ than any or all of the evils besides that\nour age makes possible,\u201d was the liability of bishops to grow arrogant\nof power, to make their authority troublesome, to put on idle pomp, and\nset themselves \u201cin conspicuous difference from the taste, the traditions,\nthe educated and intelligent convictions which the providence of God has\ncaused to rule in this land.\u201d Dr. Fulton of Indianapolis inveighed with\nwarmth against any bishop who ventured to intrude into another man\u2019s\ndiocese, and remarked that \u201csome bishops were never at home unless they\nwere abroad.\u201d A bishop, continued the doctor, is subject to civil law.\nHe should be tried for violation of the ninth commandment if he wilfully\nslander a clergyman either in or out of his own diocese. Bishops must not\naffect infallibility in doctrinal utterances. They must remember that in\nmore than one respect they and their presbyters are equals. A bishop who\nwould be respected must respect the rights of other bishops--not being\nan episcopal busybody in other men\u2019s sees. Dr. Goodwin of Philadelphia\nthought that what our Lord meant to have was \u201ca moderate episcopate.\u201d\nDr. Washburn of New York believed that even the powers granted to the\napostles were not exclusive, and that ever since the apostolic age these\npowers had been gradually more and more distributed, until now, we\nshould think, they must be so finely divided that no fragment of them is\nanywhere visible in the Episcopal Church.\n\nDr. J. V. Lewis convulsed the house with laughter by a speech in which he\ndeclared that the bishops had been so \u201ctied hand and foot by conventions\nand canons that it was wonderful they had time to do anything but find\nout what they must not do\u201d; and he called upon the church to \u201ccut those\nbands and let the bishops loose.\u201d We quote from the report of his remarks\nin the _Church Journal_: \u201cWhat will they do? He would tell them what they\nwould do. He had at home in his yard six chickens about half-grown. He\nhad placed among them a turkey big enough to eat any of them up. But they\nall flew at him. One little fellow pecked him and spurred him savagely.\nThe turkey looked on in perfect astonishment, apparently; but at length\nhe spread out his wings and literally _sat down_ upon him. From that day\nto this, whenever that turkey stirs, these chickens cannot be kept from\nfollowing him. And this is just what will happen in the church, if we\nwill only let our bishops loose.\u201d All this was the cause of much innocent\nhilarity among the brethren; but we fear that it was to Dr. Lewis that\nthe _Churchman_ referred the next week in the following solemn strain:\n\u201cIt is a sad circumstance that the ministry has in it, here and there,\na professional joker and cheap story-teller and anecdote-monger, one\nof the most tedious and least estimable types of foolishness that try\nChristian endurance and vex religious families. It is to be hoped no\nsuch melancholy-moving buffoon will ever propose himself as clown to the\nChurch Congress; and, short of that, will it be wise to confer the award\nof the heartiest and loudest applause on a sort of comic pleasantry and\n\u2018jesting not convenient\u2019 which, at best, is outdone in its own line in\nwhole columns of daily newspapers? We may smile, because it cannot be\nhelped, but we can surely reserve our plaudits--if they must be given at\nall--for that species of superiority which manifests a chaste refinement\nand suits tastes that are intellectual rather than jovial.\u201d\n\nClearly there was a great deal more in these essays on the limitations\nof episcopal authority than met the profane eye. Who are the trespassers\nupon other men\u2019s sheepfolds, and the busybodies, and the slanderers,\nand the pompous bishops, and the infallible bishops, and the bishops\nwho think themselves better than their presbyters, it is not for us to\ninquire. Neither perhaps would it be decorous to ask how the ten or\ntwelve bishops in the Congress--none of whom opened their mouths during\nthe debate--enjoyed the session. But there is excellent reason to believe\nthat the presbyters had a very pleasant day, singing the opening hymn\nin the morning, \u201cCome, gracious Spirit, heavenly dove,\u201d with peculiar\nunction, and joyously dismissing their right reverend fathers in the\nafternoon with the verses, \u201cGo forth, ye heralds, in my name.\u201d\n\nIf the bishops are in disrepute and the inferior clergy are falling\naway, it can hardly be necessary to tell us that the church has no real\nhold upon the people; that follows as a matter of course. Accordingly,\nthe most interesting of the debates were on the best methods of giving\nvitality to the work of the church--on ministrations to the laboring\nclasses, on free churches and free preaching, on the abuses of the new\nsystem, and on the need of something equivalent to the preaching Orders\nand Congregations of our own church. Of all the papers read at the\nCongress the only one which was received with what we may fairly call\nenthusiasm was an essay by Mr. Francis Wells, editor of the Philadelphia\n_Evening Bulletin_, on the \u201cParochial System and Free Preaching,\u201d at the\nclose of which one of the reverend delegates jumped upon a bench and led\nthe assembly in three cheers. We have seen no report which gives a fair\nabstract of Mr. Wells\u2019 paper, or even explains what practical suggestions\nhe had to offer, so that it is impossible to understand what it was that\nmoved the feelings of the Congress. But if he drew a faithful picture\nof the average Episcopal Church of our day he may well have startled\nhis audience. \u201cThe chief trouble,\u201d he said, \u201clies in the spirit of\nexclusiveness which eyes the fashion of the dress and warns off strangers\nwith a cold stare.\u201d He was quite right in holding that the renting of\npews and the expenditure of large sums of money for the adornment of the\nhouse of God are not necessarily obstacles to the influence of the church\nover the masses. Our own experience proves that. What poor and ragged\nsinner was ever repelled from a Catholic Church by imposing architecture,\nor gorgeous windows, or the blazing magnificence of lighted altars, or\nthe strains of costly music? The rich have their pews--at least in this\ncountry, where it is only by pew-rents that we can meet the necessary\nexpenses of the parish--but the most wretched beggar feels that he is\nwelcome at all times in the splendid temple, and he may kneel there,\nfeasting the senses, if he pleases, as well as refreshing the soul,\nwithout fear that his more comfortable neighbor will stare at his humble\ngarments. Whatever the character of our churches, it is always the poor\nwho fill them. It never occurs to a Catholic that the people who pay\npew-rents acquire any proprietorship in the house of God, or have any\nbetter right there than those who pay nothing. The sermons are never made\nfor the rich, and the Holy Sacrifice is offered for all indiscriminately.\nBut in the Episcopal Church how different it is!\n\nImagine the feelings of a mechanic who approaches one of the luxurious\nFifth-Avenue temples in his patched and stained working trowsers and\nthreadbare coat. Carriages are setting down the _haut ton_ at the door,\nevery lady dressed in the extreme of fashion, every gentleman carefully\narrayed by an expensive tailor. A high-priced sexton, with rather more\ndignity than an average bishop, receives the distinguished arrivals just\ninside the lobby, and scrutinizes strangers with the air of an expert who\nhas learned by long experience in the highest circles just what kind of\ncompany every casual visitor has probably been in the habit of keeping.\nThe interior of the church somehow suggests a Madison-Avenue parlor,\nfurnished in the latest style of imitation antique. The upholstery is\na marvel of comfort. The pleasantly subdued light suits the eyes and\nsoftens the complexions of Christians who have been up late dancing. A\ndecorous quiet pervades the waiting congregation, broken only by the\nrustle of five-dollar silks sweeping up the aisles. Such a handsome\ndisplay of millinery can be seen nowhere else for so little money. What\nis a working-man to do in such a brilliant gathering as this? He looks\ntimidly at the back seats, and he finds there perhaps two or three old\nwomen, parish pensioners, Sunday-school boys, or young men who keep\nnear the door in order to slip out quietly when they are tired of the\nservices, but nobody of his class. The prosperous people all around\nhim listen to the choir, and the reader, and the preacher, with an\nindescribable air of proprietorship in all of them. The sermon is an\nelaborate essay addressed to cultivated intellects, not to his common\nunderstanding. He goes away with the uncomfortable consciousness that\nhe has been intruding, and feels like a shabby and unkempt person who\nhas strolled by mistake into the stockholders\u2019 row at the Italian Opera,\nand been turned out by a high-toned box-keeper. \u201cIt is indeed hard to\nimagine,\u201d said _The Nation_ the other day, \u201canything more likely to\nmake religion seem repelling to a poor man than the sight of one of the\ngorgeous edifices in which rich Christians nowadays try to make their\nway to heaven. Working out one\u2019s salvation clothed in the height of\nthe fashion, as a member of a wealthy club, in a building in which the\namplest provision is made for the gratification of all the finer senses,\nmust seem to a thoughtful city mechanic, for instance, something in the\nnature of a burlesque. Not that the building is too good for the lofty\npurpose to which it is devoted, for nobody ever gets an impression of\nanything but solemn appropriateness from a great Catholic cathedral, but\nthat it is the property of a close corporation, who, as it might be said,\n\u2018make up a party\u2019 to go to the Throne of Grace, and share the expenses\nequally, and fix the rate so high that only successful businessmen can\njoin.\u201d\n\nBut we heed not enlarge upon the prevalence of this evil. The speakers\nat the Congress recognized it frankly, and they are undoubtedly aware,\nthough they may not have deemed it prudent to confess, that the case is\ngrowing more and more serious all the time. As wealth concentrates in\nthe large cities and habits of luxury increase, the Protestant Episcopal\nChurch is continually becoming colder and colder towards the poor. No\nremedy that has been proposed holds out the faintest promise of stopping\nthis alarming decline. No remedy proposed even meets the approbation of\nany considerable number of the Episcopal clergy. One speaker proposes a\ngreater number of free congregations, and is met by the obvious objection\nthat the result would be a still more lamentable separation between\nrich and poor, with a different class of churches for each set. Another\nrecommends the bishops to send missionary preachers into every parish\nwhere there seems to be need of their labor, but does not tell us where\nthe missionaries are to be found, and forgets that almost every parish\nin the United States would have to be supplied in this way before the\nevil could be cured. A third advises the rich and poor to meet together,\nand fraternize and help each other; and a fourth calls for more zeal\nall around. All these proposals are merely various ways of stating the\ndisease; they do not indicate remedies. Perhaps it may occur to some\npeople that if the Catholic Church and the Episcopal Church correspond so\nclosely in their outward operations, both striving to celebrate divine\nworship with all possible splendor, both building costly churches and\nsupporting them by pew-rents, both employing highly paid choirs, both\nkeeping up a system of parishes, and if all the while the one gathers\npeople of every rank and condition into her fold, offering health and\nconsolation to all alike, while the other is constantly losing the\naffections of the multitude and becoming a lifeless creature of forms and\nfashions, the explanation of the difference after all may be that the\nHoly Ghost lives and works in the one, while the other is only the device\nof man.\n\n\nYULE RAPS.\n\n_A CHRISTMAS STORY._\n\nWe once saw a picture of a wide, undulating snow-landscape, overspread\nwith a pale rosy tint from the west, and we thought it a fancy picture of\nan Arctic winter. It hung in a pretty room in a Silesian country-house.\nThe weather was lovely, warm but temperate; it was mid-June, and the\nwoods were full of wild strawberries, and the meadows of forget-me-nots.\nYet that landscape was simply Silesia in the winter; the same place,\nsix months later, becomes a wilderness of snow. What shall we say of\nMecklenburg, then, so much farther to the north of Silesia? But even\nthere winter brings merriment; and as in these snow-bound countries there\nis less work to be got through in the winter, their people associate the\nideas of pleasure and holiday with the cold rather than the warm weather.\nIn Mecklenburg spring, summer, and autumn mean work--ploughing, sowing,\nhaying, harvesting; winter means fun and frolic, peasants\u2019 dances,\nfarmers\u2019 parties, weddings, christenings, harvest-homes, Christmas, New\nYear\u2019s, and Epiphany presents, gatherings of friends, fireside talk,\ninnocent games, and general merriment.\n\nIn a little village in this province the house of Emanuel K\u00f6hler was\nfamous for its jollity. Here were old customs well kept up, yet always\nwith decorum and a regard to higher matters. Emanuel was virtually\nmaster of the estate of Stelhagen, the absentee owner of which was a gay\nyoung officer who never wrote to his agent, except for a new supply\nof money. Clever and enlightened an agriculturist as old K\u00f6hler was,\nit was sometimes difficult for him to send the required sums, and yet\nhave enough to farm the estate to his satisfaction. In the language of\nthe country, he was called the inspector, and his house, also according\nto the local custom, was a kind of informal agricultural school. At\nthe time of our story he had four young men under him--who were in all\nrespects like the apprentices of the good old time--and two of his own\nrelatives, his son and his nephew. His only daughter was busy helping\nher mother, and learning to be as efficient a housekeeper as the young\nmen to be first-rate farmers; and this nucleus of young society, added\nto the good K\u00f6hler\u2019s hearty joviality and the known good-cheer always\nprovided by Frau K\u00f6hler, naturally made the large, cosey, rambling\nhouse a pleasant rendezvous for the neighborhood. The K\u00f6hler household\nwas a host in itself, yet it always loved to be reinforced on festive\noccasions by the good people of the village and farms within ten miles\nround. So also the children, whether poor or pretty well off, were all\nwelcome at old Emanuel\u2019s, and knew the way to the Frau Inspectorin\u2019s\npantry as well as they knew the path to the church or the school. All the\nservant-girls in the neighborhood wanted to get a place in this house,\nbut there was scarcely ever a vacancy, unless one of the dairy-maids or\nthe house-girls married. Frau K\u00f6hler and her daughter did all the kitchen\nwork themselves, and the latter, a thoughtful girl, though she was only\nfifteen, studied books and maps between-whiles. But her studies never\ninterfered with the more necessary knowledge that a girl should have\nwhen, as Rika,[175] she has to depend upon herself for everything. In\nthe country, in the Mecklenburg of even a very few years ago, everything\nwas home-made, and a supply of things from the large town twenty or\nthirty miles off was the event of a life-time. Such things came as\nwedding-gifts; and though fancy things came every Christmas, even they\nwere carefully and sacredly kept as tokens of that miraculous, strange,\nbewildering world outside, in which people wore their silk dresses every\nday, and bought everything they wanted at large shops a few steps from\ntheir own houses. Frau K\u00f6hler often wondered what other women did who\nhad no farm-house to manage, no spinning, or knitting, or cooking, or\ndairy-work to do; and when her daughter Rika suggested that they probably\nread and studied, she shrugged her shoulders and said: \u201cTake care, child;\nwomen ought to attend to women\u2019s work. Studying is a man\u2019s business.\u201d\n\nThe honest soul was a type of many an old-fashioned German house-mother,\nof whose wisdom it were well that some of our contemporaries could avail\nthemselves; and when Rika gently reminded her of the story of Martha and\nMary, she would energetically reply:\n\n\u201cVery well; but take my word for it, child, there was a woman more\nblessed than _that_ Mary, and one who was nearer yet to her Lord; and\nwe do not hear of _her_ neglecting her house. I love to think of that\nhouse at Nazareth as just a model of household cleanliness and comfort.\nYou know, otherwise, it could not have been a fitting place for _Him_;\nfor though he chose poverty, he must needs have surrounded himself with\nspotless purity.\u201d\n\nAnd Rika, as humble and docile as she was thoughtful, saw in this\nreverent and practical surmise a proof that it is not learning that comes\nnearest to the heart of truth, but that clearer and directer knowledge\nwhich God gives to \u201cbabes and sucklings.\u201d\n\nThis particular Christmas there was much preparation for the family\nfestival. The kitchen was in a ferment for a week, and mighty\nbakings took place; gingerbread and cake were made, and various\nconfectionery-work was done; for Frau K\u00f6hler expected a friend of her\nown early home to come and stay with her this last week of the year.\nThis was the good old priest who had baptized her daughter; for neither\nmother nor daughter were natives of Mecklenburg, though the latter had\ngrown up there, and had never, since she was six months old, gone beyond\nthe limits of the large estate which her father administered. Frau K\u00f6hler\nwas a Bavarian by birth, and had grieved very much when her Mecklenburg\nhusband had taken her to this northern land, where his position and wages\nwere so good as to make it his duty to abide and bring up his family. But\nthe worthy old creature had done a wonderful deal of good since she had\nbeen there, and kept up her faith as steadfastly as ever she had at home.\nFrederika had been her treasure and her comfort; and between the mother\u2019s\nintense, medi\u00e6val firmness of belief, and the child\u2019s naturally deep and\nthoughtful nature, the little farm-maiden had grown up a rare combination\nof qualities, and a model for the young Catholic womanhood of our stormy\ntimes. The old priest whom Frau K\u00f6hler had looked up to before her\nmarriage as her best friend, and whom Rika had been taught to revere from\nher babyhood, had been very sick, and was obliged to leave his parish\nfor a long holiday and rest. His former parishioner was anxious that\nhe should see Christmas kept in the old-fashioned northern style, more\ncharacteristic than the Frenchified southern manners would now allow,\neven in her remote native village. Civilization carries with it the\npick-axe and the rule; and when young girls begin to prefer Manchester\nprints and French bonnets to homespun and straw hats, most of the old\ncustoms slip away from their homes.\n\nIn the sturdy Mecklenburg of twenty years ago, even after the temporary\nstir of 1848, things were pretty much as they had been for centuries, and\nit was Emanuel\u2019s pride that his household should be, if needful, the last\nstronghold of the good old usages. He heartily acquiesced in his wife\u2019s\ninvitation to the southern guest, and resolved to have the best Christmas\nthat had been known in the country since he had undertaken the care of\nthe Stelhagen estate. In truth, he lived like a patriarch among his\nwork-people; his laborers and their families were models of prosperity\nand content, and the children of all the neighborhood wished he were\ntheir grandfather. Indeed, he was godfather to half the village babies\nborn during his stay there.\n\nThe sleighs of the country were the people\u2019s pride. Some were plain\nand strong, because their owners were not rich enough to adorn them,\nbut others were quite a curiosity to the visitor from the south. They\npartook of the same quaintness as the old yellow family coaches that\ntook the farmers to harvest-homes and weddings before the early snows\ncame on. Lumbering, heavy-wheeled vehicles these were, swinging on high\nlike a cradle tied to a couple of saplings in a storm; capacious as\nthe house-mother\u2019s apron-pockets on a baking day; seventy years old at\nleast, barring the numerous patchings and mendings, new lining or new\nwheel, occasionally vouchsafed to the venerable representative of the\nfamily dignity. The sleighs were much gayer and a little less antiquated,\nbecause oftener used, and therefore oftener worn out; besides, there were\nfashions in sleighs even in this remote place--fashions indigenous to\nthe population, each individual of which was capable of some invention\nwhen sleighs were in question. On Christmas Eve, long before it grew\ndark, many of these pretty or curious conveyances clattered up to the\nfarm-house door. Some were laden with children two rows deep, all wrapped\nin knitted jackets, blankets, boas, etc., and here and there covered with\na fur cap or furred hood; for knitting in this neighborhood supplied all\nwith warm winter wraps, even better than woven or machine-made stuffs do\nnowadays. There were no single sleighs, no tiny, toy-like things made\nto display the rich toilet of the occupant and the skill of the fast\ndriver by her side; here all were honest family vehicles, full of rosy\nfaces like Christmas apples; hearty men and women who at three-score\nwere almost as young as their grandchildren on their bridal day; and\nyoung men and maidens who were not afraid to dance and move briskly in\ntheir plain, loose, home-spun and home-made clothes, nor to fall in\nlove with German downrightness and honest, practical intentions. Most\nof these sleighs were red, picked out with black, or black liberally\nsprinkled with red; some were yellow and black, some yellow and blue,\nand in most the robe and cushions were of corresponding colors. Some of\nthese robes had eagles embroidered in coarse patterns and thick wool,\nwhile others were of a pattern something like those used for bed-quilts;\nand some bore unmistakable witness to the thrift of the house-mother,\nand were skilfully pieced together out of carpet, curtain, blanket, and\ndress remnants, the whole bordered with some inexpensive fur. One or two\nsleighs bore a sort of figure-head--the head of a deer, or a fox, or a\nhawk--carved and let into the curling part of the front; while one party,\nwho were gazed upon with mingled admiration and disapproval, went so far\nas to trail after them, for three or four feet behind the sleigh, and\nsweeping up the snow in their wake, a thick scarlet cloth of gorgeous\nappearance, but no very valuable texture. This was the doing of a young\nfellow who had lately been reading one or two romances of chivalry, and\nbeen much pleased with the \u201cvelvet housings of the horses, sweeping the\nground as the knight rode to the king\u2019s tournament.\u201d His indulgent old\nmother and admiring sisters had but faintly remonstrated, and this was\nthe consequence. The horses were not less bedecked than the vehicles.\nSilver bells hung from their harness and belted their bodies in various\nplaces; shining plates of metal and knobs driven into the leather made\nthem as gay as circus-horses; while horse-cloths of variegated pattern\nwere rolled up under the feet of their masters, ready for use whenever\nthey stopped on the road.\n\nEmanuel himself had gone to the nearest town at which a stage-coach\nstopped, to welcome his wife\u2019s friend and special guest, and entertained\nhim with a flow of agricultural information and warm eulogy of the\ncountry through which they were speeding on their way home. He arrived\nat Stelhagen before the rush of country visitors, and was triumphantly\ntaken through every part of the well-kept farm, while his meal was\nbeing prepared by Rika and the maids. But more than all, Frau K\u00f6hler,\nin her delight, actually made him \u201cfree\u201d of the sacred, secret chamber\nwhere stood the _Christbaum_, already laden but unlighted, among its\nattendant tables and dishes. The old man was as innocently charmed as a\nseven-year-old child; it reminded him so of his own Christmas-tree in\ndays when the simple customs of Germany were still unimpaired, and when\nit was the fashion to give only really useful things, with due regard to\nthe condition and needs of the recipients.\n\n\u201cBut at the feasts to which my people ask me now,\u201d said he, \u201cI see\nchildren regaled with a multitude of unwholesome, colored _bonbons_ in\nboxes that cost quite as much as the contents, and servants given cheap\nsilks or paste jewelry, and the friends or the master and mistress\nthemselves loaded with pretty but useless knick-knacks, gilded toys that\ncost a great deal and make more show than their use warrants. Times are\nsadly changed, Thekla, even since you were married.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, Herr Pfarrer, I have had little chance, and less wish, to see\nthe change; and up here I think we still live as Noah\u2019s sons after they\ncame out of the ark,\u201d said good Frau K\u00f6hler, with a broad smile at her\nown wit. As the day wore on, she and Rika left the _Pfarrer_ (_cur\u00e9_)\nto Emanuel\u2019s care, and again busied themselves about the serious\ncoming festivity. She flew around, as active as a fat sparrow, with\na dusting-cloth under her arm, whisking off with nervous hand every\nspeck of dust on the mantel-piece or among the few books which lay\nconspicuously on the table in the best room; giving her orders to the\nnimble maids, welcoming the families of guests, and specially petting\nthe children. Emanuel took the men under his protection, and gave them\ntobacco and pipes, and talked farming to them, while his own young\nhome-squad whispered in corners of the coming tree and supper.\n\nAt last Rika came out from the room where the mystery was going on, and,\nopening the door wide, let a flood of light into the dark apartment\nbeyond. There was a regular blaze. The large tree stood on a low table,\nand reached nearly up to the ceiling. There were only lights, colored\nribbons, and gilded walnuts hung upon it, but it quite satisfied the\nexpectation of the good folk around it. Round the room were tables and\nstands of all kinds, crowded together, and barely holding all the dishes\napportioned to each member of the party. The guests had secretly brought\nor sent their mutual presents; one family generally taking charge of its\nneighbor\u2019s gifts, and _vice-versa_, that none might suspect the nature\nof their own. The tree, too, was a joint contribution of the several\nfamilies; all had sent in tapers and nuts, and this it was that made it\nso full of bright things and necessitated its being so tall.\n\nOn the middle table, under the tree itself, were dishes for the K\u00f6hler\nhousehold, each one having a liberal allowance of apples, nuts, and\ngingerbread. Besides these, there were parcels, securely tied, laid by\nthe dishes, and labelled with the names of their unconscious owners.\nK\u00f6hler was seized upon by his wife and daughter before anyone else was\nallowed to go forward--for in this old-fashioned neighborhood the head of\nthe house is still considered in the light of an Abraham--and a compact\nparcel was put into his hands by Rika, while Thekla kissed him with\nhearty loudness. Next came the guest, whom Rika led to the prettiest\nchina dish, and presented with a small, tempting-looking packet. Leaving\nhim to open it at his leisure, she joined her young friends, and a\ngood-natured scramble now began, each looking for his own name in some\nfamiliar handwriting, finding it, and opening the treasure with the\neagerness of a child. It would be impossible to describe every present\nthat thus came to view; but though many were pretty and elaborate, none\nwere for mere show. Presently Frau K\u00f6hler was seen to take possession of\nher husband, and, pulling off his coat, made him try on the dressing-gown\nhe had just drawn from his parcel. She turned him round like a doll, and\nclapped her hands in admiration at the perfect fit; then danced around to\nthe other end of the room, and called out to the maids:\n\n\u201cLina! Bettchen! it is your turn now; you have not been forgotten. Those\nare your dishes where the silver dollars are sticking in the apples.\u201d\nThe maids opened their parcels, and each found a bright, soft, warm\ndress, crimson and black. Then came George, the man who did most of the\nimmediate work round the house, and found a bright red vest with steel\nbuttons in his parcel. Frau K\u00f6hler was busy looking at other people\u2019s\nthings, when her husband slipped a neat, long packet on her dish, and,\nas she turned and saw the addition, she uttered an exclamation of joy.\nRika helped her to unfold the stiff, rustling thing, when it turned out\nto be a black silk dress. Not every housewife in those days had one, and\nher last was nearly worn out. Then the old priest came forward to show\nthe company his Christmas box; and what do you think it was? There was no\ndoubt as to where it came from. It was a set of missal-markers, and in\nsuch taste as was scarcely to be expected in that time and neighborhood.\nRika had designed it, and her mother had worked it; but many an anxious\ndebate had there been over it, as the Frau Inspectorin had been at first\nquite vexed at what she called its plainness. It was composed of five\nthick _gros-grain_ ribbons, two inches wide and fifteen long. There was\na red, a green, a white, a purple, and a black ribbon; and on each was\nembroidered a motto--on the red and green, in gold; on the white, in red;\nand on the black and purple, in silver. The letters were German, though\nthe mottoes were in Latin, and each of the five referred to one of these\nevents: our Lord\u2019s birth, death, Resurrection, and Ascension, and the\nComing of the Holy Ghost. At the end of each ribbon, instead of fringe\nor tassels, hung a cross of pure silver, into the ring of which the\nribbon was loosely gathered. Every one crowded round this novel Christmas\ngift, and examined it with an admiration equally gratifying to the giver\nand the receiver. But Emanuel\u2019s jolly voice soon broke the spell by\nsaying:\n\n\u201cThese fine presents are very delightful to receive, no doubt, and the\nwomen-folk would not have been happy without some such thing; but we are\nall mortal, and I have not forgotten that my guest has feet and hands,\nand needs warmth and comfort as much as we of grosser clay.\u201d\n\nAnd with this he thrust a large parcel into the _Pfarrer\u2019s_ arms. Every\none laughed and helped him to open it; every one was curious to see its\ncontents. They were, indeed, of a most substantial and useful kind: a\nfoot-muff of scarlet cloth, lined and bordered with fur, and a pair of\nhuge sealskin gloves.\n\nScarcely had the parcel been opened when a hum of measured sound was\nheard outside, and presently a Christmas carol was distinctly audible.\nEveryone knew the words, and many joined in the song before the singers\nbecame visible. Then the door opened, and a troop of children came in,\ndressed in warm white furs and woollen wrappings, and carrying tapers and\nfir-branches in their hands. They sang a second carol, quaint and rustic\nin its words, but skilfully set to anything but archaic music, and then,\nin honor of their southern guest, they began _the_ song of the evening,\na few stanzas from the \u201cGreat Hymn\u201d to the Blessed Virgin, by the\nMinnesinger, Gottfried of Strasburg, the translation of which, according\nto Kroeger, runs thus:\n\n                     XXV.\n\n    \u201cGod thee hath clothed with raiments seven;\n    On thy pure body, drawn from heaven,\n            Hath put them even\n      When thou wast first created.\n    The first one Chastity is named;\n    The second is as Virtue famed;\n            The third is claimed\n      As Courtesy, well mated;\n    The fourth dress is Humility;\n      The fifth is known as Pity;\n    The sixth one, Faith, clings close to thee;\n    The seventh, noble Modesty,\n            Leads gratefully\n      Thee in the path of duty.\n\n                   XXVII.\n\n    \u201cThou sun, thou moon, thou star so fair,\n    God took thee from his own side there,\n            Here to prepare\n    The birth of Christ within thee.\n    For that his loved Child and thine,\n    Which is our life and life\u2019s sunshine,\n            Our bread and wine,\n    To stay chaste, he did win thee;\n    So that sin\u2019s thorns could never touch\n      Thy fruitful virtue\u2019s branches.\n    His burning love for thee did vouch,\n    He kept thee from all sins that crouch:\n            A golden couch,\n    Secured by his love\u2019s trenches.\n\n                   XLVII.\n\n    \u2026\n    \u201cRejoice now, thou salvation\u2019s throne,\n    That thou gavest birth to Him who won\n            Our cause, thy Son,\n    Our Saviour and our blessing.\n    \u2026\n\n                  XLVIII.\n\n    \u201cRejoice now, O thou sunshine mild,\n    That on thy blessed breasts there smiled\n            God\u2019s little Child--\n      Its earthly destination.\n    Rejoice that then drew near to thee\n    From foreign lands the wise kings three,\n            Noble and free,\n      To bring their adoration\n    To thee and to that blessed Child,\n      With many a graceful off\u2019ring.\n    Rejoice now, that the star beguiled\n    And to that place their pathway smiled\n            Where, with thy Child,\n    They worshipped thy sweet suff\u2019ring.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are not so utterly unknowing of all gentle and learned pursuits as\nyou would have had me believe,\u201d said the _Pfarrer_ to Frau K\u00f6hler. \u201cIt\nis not every child in Bavaria that could sing so well this Old-World\npoem, so graceful in its rhyming and so devout in its allusions. Our\nold XIIth-century poetry, the most national--_i.e._, peculiar to our\ncountry--is too much superseded by noisy modern rhymes or sentimental\nballads copied from foreign models. Have you any unknown scholar among\nyour farmers and agents, who, you told me, made up a hearty but not a\nlearned society here?\u201d\n\n\u201cWell,\u201d said Frau K\u00f6hler, \u201cthere is the school-master, Heldmann, who is\nalways poring over old useless books, but never can have a good dinner\nunless his friends send it to him, poor man! He is a bachelor, and\ncannot afford to have a housekeeper. And then there is one of our young\ngentlemen, who K\u00f6hler says is always in the clouds, and who spends all\nhis spare time with Heldmann, while the other boys spend theirs with\ntheir pretty, rosy neighbors. By the way, Heldmann is coming to-night;\nbut he said he could not come till late, as he had some important\nbusiness which would detain him for an hour or two.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou forget our Rika, mother,\u201d said Emanuel, not heeding the last part\nof his wife\u2019s sentence; \u201cshe is as wise as any of them, though she says\nso little. She knows all the old legends and poetry, and more besides, I\nwarrant.\u201d\n\n\u201cRika designed that missal-marker,\u201d said the Frau Inspectorin proudly\n(she had found out, since it had been so admired, that her daughter\u2019s\ninstinct had guided her aright in the design).\n\nBut Rika, hearing her name mentioned, had slipped away among the\nwhite-wrapped children, and was laying their tapers and fir-branches\naway, preparatory to giving them cakes and fruit. This was quite a\nceremony, and when they were ready Frau K\u00f6hler, handing the large dish\nof nuts to the _Pfarrer_, begged him to distribute them, while she took\ncharge of the gingerbread and Rika of the apples.\n\nIt was funny to see the solemn expectancy with which the children\nbrought out dishes, mugs, pitchers, etc., in which to receive these\nChristmas gifts. Some of the girls held out their aprons, as more\nconvenient and capacious receptacles than anything else they could lay\nhands on. One boy brought a large birthday cup, and another a wooden\nmilk-bowl; another a small churn, while a fourth had carried off his\nfather\u2019s peck-measure, and a fifth calmly handed up a corn-sack, which he\nevidently expected to get filled to the brim. As Frau K\u00f6hler came to one\nof the children, she said:\n\n\u201cFritz, I saw you in the orchard last autumn stealing our apples. Now,\nnaughty boys must not expect to get apples at Christmas if they take them\nat other times; so, Rika, don\u2019t give him any. He shall have one piece of\ngingerbread, though.\u201d A piteous disclaimer met this sentence; but the\n_Pfarrer_ thrust a double quantity of nuts into the culprit\u2019s basket, and\npassed on. Then once again Frau K\u00f6hler stopped and said; \u201cJohann, didn\u2019t\nI see you fighting with another boy in the churchyard two weeks ago,\nand told you that Santa Claus would forget you when he came to fill the\nstockings on Christmas night? I shall not give you any gingerbread.\u201d\n\n\u201cFranz knows we made it up again,\u201d whined the boy, and Franz, with a\nroguish look, peeped out from his place in the row and said: \u201cYes, we\ndid, Frau Inspectorin\u201d; so both got their gingerbread. At last, this\ndistribution being over, the children, laden with their gifts, went home\nto their own various firesides, not without many thanks to the \u201cstranger\nwithin the gates\u201d and his parting reminder, as he showed them the stars:\n\n\u201cLook up at God\u2019s own Christmas-tree, lighted up with thousands of\ntapers, children, and at the smooth, white snow spread over the fields.\nThat is the white table-cloth which he has spread for the beautiful gifts\nwhich spring, and summer, and autumn are going to bring you, all in his\nown good time.\u201d[176]\n\nThen came another batch of visitors--the old, sick, and infirm people of\nthe village; the spinning-women, the broom-tyers, the wooden bowl and\nspoon carvers, and the makers of wooden shoes; and some who could no\nlonger work, but had been faithful and industrious in their time. They\nhad something of the old costume on: the men wore blue yarn stockings and\nstout gray knee-breeches (they had left their top-boots outside; for the\nsnow was deep and soft, and they needed them all the winter and through\nmost of the spring); and the women had large nodding caps and black silk\nhandkerchiefs folded across their bosoms. Each of these old people got a\nlarge loaf of plain cake and some good stout flannel; and these things,\naccording to the local etiquette, the inspector himself delivered to\nthem as the representative of his young master. This distribution was\nan old custom on the Stelhagen estate, and, though the present owner\nwas careless enough in many things, he wished this usage to be always\nkept up. Even if he had not, it is not likely that as long as K\u00f6hler\nwas inspector the old people would not have been able to rely on the\ncustomary Christmas gift. After this some bustle occurred, and two or\nthree people went and stationed themselves outside the door. Presently\nthe expectant company within were startled by a loud rap, and the door\nflew open, a parcel was flung in, and a voice cried out:\n\n\u201cYule rap!\u201d\n\nThis was a pair of slippers for the inspector. No one knew where they\ncame from; no one had sent them. Yule raps are supposed to be magical,\nimpersonal causes of tangible effects; so every one looked innocent and\nastonished, as became good Mecklenburgers under Christmas circumstances.\n\n\u201cYule rap!\u201d again, and the door opened a second time; a smoking-cap,\nembroidered with his initials, was evolved out of a cumbrous packet by\none of the young apprentices, and scarcely had he put it on than another\nthundering knock sounded on the door.\n\n\u201cYule rap!\u201d was shouted again, and in flew a heavy package. It was a\nbook, with illustrations of travel scenes in the East, and was directed\nto Rika.\n\n\u201cYule rap!\u201d\n\nThis time it was only a little square envelope, with a ticket referring\nFrau K\u00f6hler to another ticket up in the bureau drawer in her bedroom; but\nwhen one of the boys found it, that referred again to another ticket in\nthe cellar; and when another boy brought this to light, it mysteriously\nreferred her to her husband\u2019s pocket. Here, at last, the hidden thing was\nrevealed--an embroidered collar, and a pair of larger cuffs to match.\nK\u00f6hler had no idea what sprite had put it there, so he said.\n\n\u201cYule rap!\u201d and this time it was for the guest--a black velvet skull-cap,\nwarm and clinging. Then came various things, all heralded by the same\nwarning cry of \u201cYule rap!\u201d and a knock at the door, generally in George\u2019s\nstrong voice. The two maids got the packages ready, and peeped in at\nthe keyhole to see when it was time to vary the sensation by throwing in\nanother present. Again, a breakfast-bell came rolling in, ringing as it\nbounded on, with just a few bands of soft stuff and silver paper muffling\nits sound. Once a large meerschaum pipe was laid gently at the threshold\nof the door, and one of the apprentices fetched it as carefully. Then\na violin was pushed through the half-open door, and the eager face of\nthe one for whom it was intended peeped anxiously over his neighbor\u2019s\nshoulder, wondering if any one else were the happy destined one, and as\nmuch surprised as delighted when he found it was himself. That violin has\nsince been heard in many a large and populous town, and, though its owner\ndid not become as world-known as Paganini or Sivori, he did not love his\nart less faithfully and exclusively. We cannot enumerate all the gifts\nwhich Yule brought round this year; but before the evening was over, a\ndifferent voice cried out the magic words, \u201cYule rap!\u201d and the door being\nslightly opened and quickly closed again, a tiny, white, silky dog stood\ntrembling on the carpet. Rika jumped up and ran to take it in her arms;\nthen pulling open the door, \u201cHerr Heldmann! Herr Heldmann!\u201d she cried. \u201cI\nknow it is you!\u201d\n\nThe schoolmaster came forward, his rough face glowing with the cold\nthrough which he had just come.\n\n\u201cI promised you a dog, Rika,\u201d he said rather awkwardly, \u201cbut they would\nnot let me have it till this very day, and I had no time to go for it but\nthis evening. I kept it under my coat all the time; so it is quite warm.\nIt is only two months old.\u201d\n\nRika was in ecstasies. She declared this was worth all her Christmas\npresents, and then rewarded Herr Heldmann by telling him how well\nthe children had done their part, and how delightfully surprised the\n_Pfarrer_ had been. The two men were soon in a deep conversation on\nsubjects dear and familiar to both, and the company gradually dissolved\nagain into little knots and groups. Many took their leave, as their\nhomes were distant and they did not wish to be too late; but for all an\ninformal supper was laid in the vast kitchen, and by degrees most of\nthe good things on the table were sensibly diminished. The host\u2019s wife\nand daughter, and the Herr Pfarrer, with half a dozen others and a few\nchildren, did not leave the Christmas-tree, whose tapers were constantly\nattended to and replaced when necessary. Other \u201cChristmas candles\u201d were\nalso lighted--tall columns of yellow wax, made on purpose for this\noccasion. As the household and its inmates were left to themselves,\nthe children began asking for their accustomed treat--the stories that\nall children have been fond of since the world began. No land is so\nrich in the romance of childhood as Germany, both north and south.\nThere everything is personified, and as an English writer lately said,\nwonderful histories are connected with the fir-trees in the forests,\nthe beloved and venerated _Christbaum_. \u201cThough it be yet summer,\nthe child sees in fancy the beautiful _Weihnachtsbaum_, adorned with\nsparkling things as the Gospel, is adorned with promises and hopes; rich\nin gifts as the three kings were rich; pointing to heaven as the angel\npointed; bright as those very heavens were bright with silver-winged\nmessengers; crowned with gold as the Word was crowned; odorous like the\nfrankincense: sparkling like the star; spreading forth its arms, full of\npeace and good-will on every side, holding out gifts and promises for\nall.\u201d\n\n_Weihnacht_, the blessed, the hallowed, the consecrated night, is the\nchild-paradise of Germany. That land of beautiful family festivals has\ngiven Christmas a double significance, and merged into its memories all\nthe graceful, shadowy legends of the dead mythology of the Fatherland.\nThe German child is reared in the midst of fairy-tales, which are only\ntruths translated into child-language. Besides the old standard ones,\nevery neighborhood has its own local tales, every family its own new-born\nadditions or inventions. Every young mother, herself but a step removed\nfrom childhood, with all her tender imaginations still stirring, and her\nchild-days lifted into greater beauty because they are but just left\nbehind, makes new stories for her little ones, and finds in every flower\na new fairy, in every brook a new voice.\n\nAnd yet the old tales still charm the little ones, and the yearly coming\nof King Winter brings the old, worn stories round again. So Emanuel\nK\u00f6hler told the fairy-tale which the children had listened to every\nChristmas with ever-new delight, about the journey of King Winter from\nhis kingdom at the North Pole, and how he put on his crown with tall\nspikes of icicles, and wrapped himself in his wide snow-mantle, which to\nhim is as precious and as warm as ermine.\n\n\u201cAnd now,\u201d said the host, \u201cthere is some one here who can tell you a far\nmore beautiful story than mine. Some One, greater than the Winter-King,\ncomes too every year--a snow-Child, the white Christ whom our ancestors,\nthe old Norse and Teutonic warriors, learned to see and adore, where\nthey had only seen and worshipped the God of War and the God of Thunder\nbefore. Ask him to tell you a story.\u201d\n\nAnd the old, white-haired _Pfarrer_ stroked the head of the child nearest\nto him, as the little one looked shyly up into his face, mutely endorsing\nEmanuel\u2019s appeal. He told them that they must already know the story of\nthe first Christmas night, and so he would only tell them how the news\nthat the angels told the shepherds on the hills came long centuries\nafter to others as pure-minded as the shepherds, and by means almost\nas wonderful. He repeated to them from memory the words of an English\nprose-poet, which he said he had loved ever since he came across them,\nand which made the picture he best loved to talk on at Christmas-time:\n\u201cThat little infant frame, white as a snow-drop on the lap of winter,\nlight almost as a snow-flake on the chill night air, smooth as the\ncushioned drift of snow which the wind has lightly strewn outside the\nwalls of Bethlehem, is at this moment holding within itself, as if it\nwere of adamantine rock, the fires of the beatific light.\u2026 The little\nwhite lily is blooming below the greater one; an offshoot of its stem,\nand a faithful copy, leaf for leaf, petal for petal, white for white,\npowdered with the same golden dust, meeting the morning with the same\nfragrance, which is like no other than their own!\u201d[177]\n\nThere was a more marvellous tale than any they had heard about\ntalking-flowers. The _Christkind_ was a flower, and his blessed Mother\nwas a flower--holy lilies in the garden of God, blossoming rods like\nAaron\u2019s, fruitful roots, stately cedars, and fruit-giving palm-trees.\nIt was a very happy thing to know and feel all this, as we do; but\nmany millions of men know nothing of it, and centuries ago even our\nforefathers in these forests knew nothing of it. \u201cBut,\u201d he continued,\n\u201cthere was a distant island, where men of our race lived, which did\nnot receive the faith till long after Germany and France and Britain\nwere Christian, and even had cathedrals and cloisters and schools\nin abundance. It was two hundred years after Charlemagne, who was a\nFrankish, and therefore a German, sovereign, founded the Palatine schools\nand conferred with the learned English monk, Alcuin. This distant, pagan\nisland was Iceland. The Norsemen there were a wild, fierce, warlike\npeople, free from any foreign government, and just the kind of heroes\nthat their old mythology represented them as becoming in their future,\ndisembodied life. They had their scalds, or saga-men, their bards, who\nwere both poets and historians, who kept up their spirit by singing wild\nsongs about their ancestors and the battles they had won. They were all\npagans, and thought the forgiveness of injuries very mean. Well, one day,\nthe eve of Yule-tide, when it was terribly cold and cheerless, an old\nscald sat in his rough hut, with a flickering light before him, chanting\none of his wild, heathen songs, and his daughter, a beautiful girl, sat\nat the plank table near him, busy with some woman\u2019s work. During an\ninterval of his song she raised her eyes and said to him:\n\n\u201c\u2018Father, there must be something beyond all that--something greater and\nnobler.\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018Why, child,\u2019 said the old man, with a kind of impatient wonder, \u2018why\nshould you think so? Many things different there may be, just as there\nare different kinds of men, and different kinds of beasts, and different\nkinds of plants; some for mastery and some for thraldom; some for the\nchase, and some for the kitchen or the plough; some for incantations\nand sacrifices, and some for common food. But anything nobler than our\nhistory there could not be; and as for our religion, if there were\nanything different, or even better, it would not suit our people, and so\nwould be no concern of ours.\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018But if it were true, father, and ours not true, what then?\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018Why ask the question, child? What was good enough for the wise and\nbrave Northmen who fled here that they might be free to fight and worship\naccording to their fancy, is good enough for their descendants.\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018But you know yourself, father,\u2019 persisted the maiden, \u2018that those\nwhom our poetical traditions call gods were men, heroes and patriots\nwho taught our forefathers various arts, and guided them safely across\ndeserts and through forests in their long, long migration--but still\nonly men. Our chieftains of to-day might as well become gods to our\ngreat-grandchildren, if the old leaders have become so to us. Wise as\nthey were, they could not command the frozen seas to open a way for their\nships, nor make the sun rise earlier in the long winter, nor compel the\ncutting ice-wind to cease. If they could not do such things, they must\nhave been very far from gods.\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018It is true,\u2019 said the old man, \u2018that those great chieftains were, in\nthe dim ages we can scarcely count back to, men like us; but the gods\nwho taught them those very arts took them up to live with them as long as\ntheir own heaven might last, and made them equal to themselves. You know\neven Paradise itself is to come to an end some day.\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018So our legends say, father; but that, too, makes it seem as if these\ngods were only another order of mortal beings, stronger but not better\nthan we are, and hiding from us the true, changeless heaven far above\nthem. For surely that which changes cannot be divine. And then our\nlegends say that evil is to triumph when heaven and earth come to an end.\nTrue, they say there will be a renewal of all things after that, and\nthat, no doubt, means that good will be uppermost; very likely all the\nthings spoken of in our Eddas are only signs of other things which we\ncould not understand.\u2019\n\n\u201cThe daughter continued these questionings and speculations, the scald\nanswering them as best he could.\n\n\u201cHe had listened with evident admiration and approval to her impassioned\nspeech, but he was willing to test her faith in her own womanhood to the\nutmost. She now seemed wrapt in her own thoughts, but after a short pause\nsaid:\n\n\u201c\u2018It would not be another\u2019s inspiration in which I should believe; it\nwould be a message from Him who has put this belief already into my\nheart. Some One greater than all has spoken to my inmost heart, and I am\nready to believe; but the messenger that is to put it into words and tell\nme what to do has not come.\u2019\n\n\u201cThere was a silence, and the wind and the sea roared without. The\nold man shaded the flickering light with his hand, and gazed at his\ndaughter, who was sitting with her hands clasped in her lap. He thought\nthat she herself must have received some divine illumination; for the\nNorsemen believed in the prophetic gifts of some of their women. His\nown mind, more cultivated than that of the warrior\u2019s, saw through the\nsymbolic character of many of the very myths he sang, and tended vaguely\nto belief in a higher and hidden circle of things infinite, true, and\neternal. But then the northern mind was naturally simple, not prone to\nmetaphysical distinctions, not analytical and subtle, dividing as with\nthe sword that pierceth between soul and spirit; and the old man saw no\nuse in raising theological problems for which he could offer no rational\nsolution, save through the dreams of a young girl. Presently the old man\nrose, shaking off his meditations, and said:\n\n\u201c\u2018It is time for me to go to the Yule-night festival, and I shall have\na stormy trudge of it to the castle. I must leave you alone here till\nto-morrow night. But, my child, I know that there is safety for the\nscald\u2019s daughter wherever she may be; the very sea would not hurt her,\nand the wildest men would kneel before her; so farewell, and a father\u2019s\nblessing be upon you.\u2019\n\n\u201cHis daughter rose and fetched his cloak and staff, wrapped the former\naround him, and fastened it over the rude musical instrument that\nanswered the purpose of lyre and harp; but I am not very learned in such\nthings, and cannot tell you exactly what it was. The young girl stood\nlong on the threshold of the hut, shading the light, and looking out\nafter her father into the darkness. The wind was sharp and icy, and\nblew from the frozen sea. As she held the light, she thought she heard\na cry come from the direction of the sea. She lingered before closing\nthe door, although the wind was very chill; for the cry seemed repeated,\nand she thought it was a human voice calling. A moment\u2019s reflection told\nher it could not be so; for the whole sea was frozen for miles outward,\nand no boat or wreck could come so near land. She sat down again to her\nwork, and mused on the conversation she had held with her father. He had\nstudied their national books all his life, and she was not yet twenty. He\nmust know best. Was she likely to be right? She had little experience of\nthe way in which the old system worked; only her own dreams and fancies\nshowed her any other possibility; and yet--she could not shake off the\nthought: she thirsted for another revelation. The far-off, unknown\nGodhead must have some means of communicating with men; why should he not\nspeak to her, who so passionately and blindly longed for a message, a\ncommand, from him?\n\n\u201cThe cry from the sea sounded again. Surely, this time there could be\nno mistake; the voice was human, and it had come nearer since she had\nleft the door. She took up the light again, and went outside, shouting\nas loud as she could in return. She was answered, and a strange awe came\nupon her as she heard this cry. Was it that of a man or a spirit? The\nlatter supposition seemed to her unsophisticated mind quite as likely\nas the former, but it did not frighten her, as it would most of her\ncountrywomen. She went in again, wrapped a thick fur cloak around her,\nand, taking another on her arm, sallied out once more with another\nstronger light. It was barely possible to keep the resinous torch\nalight, and she looked anxiously out towards the sea, to try and catch\nsome glimpse of a human figure. The cries came again at intervals; but\nshe knew that in the clear air a seemingly near sound might yet be far\ndistant. She had to walk briskly up and down the shore, in the beaten\npath between walls of snow, to keep herself warm, and occasionally she\nlifted the flaring torch and waved it as a signal. She could do no more,\nbut she longed to see her unknown visitor, and to go out to meet him on\nthe frozen waters. Was it some wrecked sailor, who had clambered from\nice-floe to ice-floe, in the desperate hope of reaching land before he\ndied of cold and hunger, or some unearthly messenger from an invisible\nworld? If he were a mere man, from what coast could he have drifted.\nNo Icelander would be out at this time and place; it was Yule-tide,\nand there were no wandering boats out among the ice-cliffs and floes.\nAt last she thought she could discern a shadowy form, blacker than the\nsurrounding darkness, but surely no human form; it was like a moving\ncross, one upright shape, and one laid across near the top, and both\ndark and compact. But the cry was repeated, though in a more assured\nand joyful tone, and the maiden waited with bated breath, wondering\nwhat this marvel could mean. A field of unbroken ice stretched between\nher and the advancing figure, which now hastened its steps, and came on\nlike a swift-sailing bird, cleaving the darkness. She thought she could\ndistinguish a human face above the junction of the two arms of the cross,\nand she held up the light, still uncertain what kind of visitant this\napproaching form might be. At last it flashed upon her that it was a\nman bearing a child. But why so rigid? Why did he not hug him close to\nhis bosom to keep him warm, to keep him alive? Was the child dead? And\na shuddering awe came upon her, as she thought of its dead white face\nupturned to heaven, and of the faithful man who had not forsaken it, or\nleft it to the seals and wolves on the ice, or buried it in the chill\nwaters beneath the ice-floes. What a cold it must have struck to the\nheart of the man carrying it; how his hands must be well-nigh frozen in\nsupporting this strange burden!\n\n\u201cShe hardly knew whether she was still imagining what might be, or\nwitnessing real movements, when the figure came straight up to her, and,\nstooping, laid the child at her feet. She lowered the torch, and, as the\nglare fell on the little face, she saw that it was no breathing one;\nthe man had sunk down beside it, hardly able to stir, now the supreme\neffort was over and his end was accomplished. She dropped the cloak she\nheld over the little body, and caught up a handful of snow, wherewith\nshe energetically rubbed the face and hands of the stranger, then half\ndragged, half supported him to the door of the hut. He had only spoken\nonce, just as he dropped at her feet, but she did not understand him:\nhe spoke in a foreign tongue. Once more she went out and brought in the\nstiffened, frozen body of the child, which she laid on a fur robe just\noutside the hut; for it was warm within the small, confined dwelling. It\nwas an hour before the stranger\u2019s eye told her that her simple, quick\nremedies had succeeded. He was not very tall, but immensely strong and\npowerful, and there was a fire in his dark gray eye that gave the clew\nto his strange, weird pilgrimage over the ice-floes. His hair was dark\nbrown, with a reddish tinge, but already mixed with a few gray streaks;\nit had been shorn close to his head some time since, as appeared from its\nirregular growth at present. Beneath his cloak he wore a long black robe,\nwith a leathern girdle round the waist. The child was very beautiful,\neven in death; his eyes were closed, but his black, curling hair hung\nround his neck, and the lips had a sweet though somewhat proud outline.\nThe scald\u2019s daughter set some simple food before her silent guest, and\nmade him a sign to eat. He was evidently very hungry, but before he\nbegan he moved his lips and made the sign of the cross on his forehead,\nlips, and breast. She asked him in her own language what that ceremony\nmeant, not hoping to make him understand her speech, but trusting to her\ninquiring looks for some explanatory sign that she might interpret as\nbest she could to herself. To her surprise, he answered in a few, slow,\nlabored words, not in Icelandic to be sure, but in some dialect akin\nto it; for she could make out the meaning. It was, in fact, the Norse\ndialect that was spoken in the Orkney Islands, but she did not know that.\nAs he spoke, her guest pointed upwards, and she knew that he referred\nto God. A great longing came into her heart, and she asked again if his\nGod were the same the Icelanders worshipped. He shook his head, and she\neagerly questioned farther, but grew so voluble that he could not follow\nher, and the conversation ceased. Then the stranger rose and went out\nto the little corpse, which he addressed in impassioned terms in his\nown language, making over it the same sign that had drawn the maiden\u2019s\nattention before. He then described to her--mostly in pantomime, and with\na few Norse words to help him on, and a few slowly-pronounced questions\non her part--how the boy and he had been in a boat that was wrecked many\ndays\u2019 journey from their own country, and how he had carried him and fed\nhim for three or four days, and then seen him die in his arms. The boy\nwas the only son of a great chief, and he was taking him to his uncle in\nthe North of Scotland. His own country was south of Scotland, a large\nisland like Iceland, but green and beautiful, and there was no ice there.\n\n\u201cThe girl made him understand that she was alone for a day or two, but\nwhen her father came back he would help him. He evidently understood her\nbetter than she did him.\n\n\u201cThe next morning, when she again set food before him, she imitated his\nsign of the cross, and said she wished to believe in the true God; and\nif his God were the true one, she would believe in him. She looked so\nearnest and anxious that he again began to try to explain; but the few\nwords he could command, though they sufficed to hint at his worldly\nadventures, and made clear to her that he had been wrecked, were scarcely\nadequate to tell her of the new religion she longed to understand.\n\n\u201cBut at noon that day another guest and traveller passed by the scald\u2019s\ndwelling. He was hurrying to the same castle where the girl\u2019s father had\ngone in his capacity of minstrel, but a violent snow-storm had come on\nthat morning, and he had lost his way. He stopped a moment to refresh\nhimself, and noticed the stranger. He was himself known as a great\ntraveller, and the figure in the coarse black robe seemed not unfamiliar\nto him. He addressed the stranger in the latter\u2019s language, guessing him\nat once to be an Irish monk. He said he had seen such men in the Scottish\nislands, where he had been storm-driven with his ship two years ago, and\nhe had picked up a little of their speech. When the maiden discovered\nthat in this stray guest she had found an interpreter, she pressed him,\nimplored him, almost commanded him, to stay.\n\n\u201c\u2018I must ask him the questions my father could not solve yesterday,\u2019 she\nsaid; \u2018and my father\u2019s friend will not refuse to speak in my name, for I\nbelieve that the unknown God has answered my prayer in sending this holy\nman over the sea to my very feet.\u2019 And she told him how the stranger had\ncome to her, out of the darkness, in the shape of a cross--the same sign\nhe made to propitiate his God.\n\n\u201c\u2018Ask him to tell us what he believes,\u2019 she said impetuously; and the\ninterpreter, compelled by some instinct that he could not resist, began\nhis office willingly.\n\n\u201c\u2018Tell him,\u2019 she said, \u2018that yesterday, before he came, I was all day\nthinking that the high, true, unknown God had a message for me, and a\ntruer faith to teach me, because he had put into my heart a longing for\nsomething higher than what our books and songs have taught us. And tell\nhim that I believe God sent him in answer to my doubts and prayers.\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018The traveller faithfully translated all this. The monk\u2019s face glowed\nas he replied, in his own language, which he used with the grace and\nskill of a poet:\n\n\u201c\u2018Tell the maiden that she is right; the true God _did_ send me, and now\nI know why such things happened to me; why I was wrecked with my lord\u2019s\nonly son, a precious freight, a sacred deposit, which the Lord of lords\nhas now taken upon himself to account for to the earthly father, bereaved\nof his one hope. But God sent me here because to this pure-hearted virgin\nI was to explain the faith he had already put into her heart. It is not\nI who bring her the true faith, but God himself who has spoken to her\nand inclined her to believe; me he has sent to put this message into\npractical form. Tell her that this is the birthday of the Lord, and that\na thousand years ago, almost at the same hour when I set my dead burden\nat her feet, a living Child, God\u2019s own Child, lay at the feet of a pure\nVirgin in a little village far away in the land of the rising sun. And as\nthis maiden\u2019s torch which I saw over the wild, frozen sea, and followed,\nwas an emblem of the faith that dwelt already in her heart, so, too, a\nmarvellous star led three wise men, the scalds of the East, to where this\nChild lay, and the star was the emblem of their firm faith, which led\nthem to cross rivers and deserts to reach the Child. And tell her that\nthe way in which this wonderful birth was celebrated was by a song which\nheld all the essence of truth in it: \u201cGlory to God on high, and on earth\npeace to men of good-will.\u201d\u2019\n\n\u201cAll this the interpreter told the maiden, and both marvelled at it. The\nstranger told them more and more of that wonderful tale, so familiar\nto us, but which once sounded to our warlike forefathers like the\nfoolishness of babes and sucklings, or at most like some Eastern myth\ngood enough for philosophers to wrangle over, but unfit for sturdy men\nof the forest. To the Icelandic maiden it seemed but the fulfilment of\nher own dreams; and as she listened to the story of the Child, grown to\nbe a wise but obedient Boy, and then a wandering, suffering Man, her\nsoul seemed to drink in the hidden grandeur of the relation, to pierce\nbeyond the human stumbling-blocks which confronted the wise and learned\nof other lands, and go at once to the heart of the great mystery of love,\npersonified in the Man-God. All the rest seemed to her to be the fitting\ngarment of the central mystery, the crown of leaves growing from the\nfruitful trunk of this one doctrine. All day long the three sat together,\nthe two Icelanders hanging on the words of the stranger; and so the\nscald found them on his return. He, too, wanted to know the news which\nthe monk had brought; for he said he had always believed that behind\ntheir national songs and hymns lay something greater, but perhaps not\nexpedient for Norsemen to know. He shook his head sadly when he learned\nthe monk\u2019s precepts of love, peace, mercy, and forgiveness, and said he\nfeared his countrymen would not understand that, but for his part it was\nnot uncongenial to him. As the weather was such that no vessel could put\nto sea before the ice broke up, he constrained the monk to stay the rest\nof the winter with him, and in the spring promised to go over with him to\nthe nearest Scottish coast, and carry the body of his little charge to\nthe uncle to whom he had been on his way when he was wrecked.\n\n\u201cBefore the New Year began, the monk baptized the first Icelandic\nconvert, the daughter of the scald, and gave her the name of the Mother\nof the Babe of Bethlehem, Mary. Many others heard of the new religion\nbefore he left, but that does not belong to my story. The new convert\nand her father accompanied him to Scotland, and were present at the\nburial of the Irish chieftain\u2019s son at the castle of his Scottish\nuncle. The latter\u2019s son married the Norse maiden, but she never ceased\nto lament that it had not been given to her to convert many of her own\ncountrymen, or at least shed her blood for her new faith. All her life\nlong she helped to send missionaries to Iceland; and when her son grew\nup to manhood, the palm she coveted was awarded to him, for he went to\nhis mother\u2019s native country, founded a monastery there, labored among\nthe people, converted many, and taught reading and the arts of peace as\nwell as the faith to his pupils; became abbot of the monastery, and was\nfinally martyred on the steps of the altar by a horde of savage heathen\nNorsemen.\n\n\u201cThis is the best Christmas story I know, children,\u201d concluded the Herr\nPfarrer; \u201cand you, Rika, I can wish you no better model than the fair\nmaiden of Iceland.\u201d\n\nIt was nearly midnight when the old priest finished his tale, and Frau\nK\u00f6hler, rising, and thanking him cordially for this unwonted addition to\nordinary Christmas stories, led him to a door which had been locked till\nnow. It opened into a room decked as a chapel, with an altar at the end,\nwhich was now decorated with evergreens. A few chairs and benches were\nranged before it, and on a table at the side was everything in readiness\nfor saying Mass.\n\n\u201cIt is long since I have heard a midnight Mass,\u201d said the good hostess,\ngrowing suddenly grave and reverential in her manner, \u201cand my Rika never\nhas; and you know, Herr Pfarrer, I told you I had a greater surprise in\nstore for you yet, after all the local customs in which you were so much\ninterested.\u201d\n\nSo the beautiful Midnight Mass was said in the Mecklenburg inspector\u2019s\nfarm-house, and a more impressive one Frau K\u00f6hler had never heard in any\nsouthern cathedral; for though there was no music and no pomp, there\nbrooded over the little congregation a spirit of reverence and peace,\nwhich comes in full perfection only through a deep silence. The hostess\nand her daughter received Communion together, and the attentive household\ncould not help thinking of the beautiful Icelandic convert when she came\nback from the altar, her hands folded over her breast, and her long, fair\nhair plaited in two plain, thick tresses.\n\nHerr Heldmann had stayed too, and from that day he never ceased his\nstudy of theological problems and his correspondence with the Herr\nPfarrer, till he became a Catholic, and was married to Rika in this same\nlittle chapel-room a year later by the same kind old priest. One of\nthe young apprentices of Emanuel K\u00f6hler had been his secret rival; but\nnotwithstanding that Heldmann was ungainly, shy, and twice her age, Rika\ndecidedly thought that she had the best of the bargain.\n\nAnd it was true; he had a heart of gold, and she made him a model wife.\n\n\nCHRISTMAS CHIMES.\n\n    The clear starlight, of a southern night,\n      Shone in Jud\u00e6a\u2019s sky,\n    The angels sang, and their harp-strings rang\n      With \u201cGlory to God on high.\u201d\n    Through the pearl gates streamed, ere the morning beamed,\n      The radiance of Heaven\u2019s day;\n    And the shepherds led to the lonely bed\n      Where the holy Child-God lay.\n\n    The Yule-log\u2019s light gleams warm to-night\n      In many an English home,\n    And no spirits dare--so the wise declare--\n      In the light of its beams to come;\n    The weird mistletoe and the holly glow\n      On castle and cottage wall;\n    While the jest and song ring all night long,\n      Through the merry banquet-hall.\n\n    And in other climes at the ringing chimes\n      There are scenes of joy and mirth:\n    E\u2019en round the dead is its beauty shed\n      Who at Christmas pass from earth.\n    On this holy day, so the old tomes say,\n      Heaven\u2019s portals open wide,\n    And the soul glides in, freed from all its sin\n      By the birth of the Crucified.\n\n    In our own fair land there is many a band\n      Whose home is filled with glee,\n    Whose hearts beat high, as the fleet hours fly,\n      With thoughts of the Christmas-tree.\n    May the Christ-Child weave, on this Christmas eve,\n      New hopes as the years go by,\n    And around His throne may at last each one\n      Sing \u201cGlory to God on high.\u201d\n\n\nANGLICANS, OLD CATHOLICS, AND THE CONFERENCE AT BONN.\n\nUnder the title of _Anglicanism, Old Catholicism, and the Union of the\nChristian Episcopal Churches_, an essay has recently been published by\nthe Rev. Father Tondini,[178] Barnabite, whose intimate acquaintance with\nthe respective languages of England, Germany, and Russia, as well as the\nreligious history and literature of those countries, peculiarly qualifies\nhim for dealing with the questions just now exciting so much attention in\nWestern Europe. We shall, therefore, not only make his treatise, which\nmerits more than ordinary notice, the basis of the present article, but\nshall reproduce such portions of it as are particularly suggestive at the\npresent time, and conclude with some account of the Conference at Bonn\nand the considerations it suggests.\n\nIn the Introduction to his treatise the reverend author gives the reasons\nwhich called it forth, the last being the promise made on the tomb of a\nfriend[179] to leave nothing untried which might promote the return of\nthe Greco-Russian Church to Catholic unity; an unexpected opportunity\nbeing given for fulfilling this promise by the reference made more than\nonce by Mr. Gladstone, in his recent publications, to the organization\nof the Eastern as contrasted with that of the Catholic Church. Moreover,\nthe sympathy displayed by Mr. Gladstone for the Old Catholics and their\nConference at Bonn serves to complete the argument.\n\nThere are two passages in Mr. Gladstone\u2019s _Vaticanism_ with which Father\nTondini has more especially dealt. One is the following:\n\n\u201cOf these early provisions for a balance of church power, and for\nsecuring the laity against sacerdotal domination, the rigid conservatism\nof the Eastern Church presents us, even down to the present day, with an\nauthentic and living record.\u201d[180]\n\nThese valuable \u201cprovisions\u201d are set forth at length in the second edition\nof a former work by Father Tondini, _The Pope of Rome and the Popes of\nthe Oriental Church_.[181] In a special preface he there says: \u201cThere is\nmuch to be learned from them, especially if we take into consideration\ntheir recent date, and the ecclesiastical canons of which the Eastern\nChurch has not been indeed a rigid conservator.\u201d\n\nIn the quotations there given at length from the original documents, we\nfind abundant evidence of the manner in which the ancient canons have\nbeen set aside, wherever convenient to the czar, for his own regulations.\n\nThe second passage requiring comment is the following:\n\n\u201cThe ancient principles of popular election and control, for which room\nwas found in the Apostolic Church under its inspired teachers, and which\nstill subsist in the Christian East.\u201d[182]\n\nThis, as we shall see, is disposed of in the third chapter of the present\nessay, into which has been collected trustworthy information as to the\nnon-popular mode of election of bishops resorted to in the Oriental\nOrthodox Church.[183]\n\nTowards the close of the Introduction the writer remarks that if the\nstatements made by Mr. Gladstone respecting the Catholic Church were\ntrue, she could not be the true church of our Lord, and, if not, he\nasks, where then is the true church to be found? The Oriental Church\ncould not solve the question, because she is in contradiction to the\ndoctrine contained in her own liturgy,[184] and also for other reasons,\nto which for some years past he has been directing public attention.[185]\nThere remain to be considered the Anglican Establishment--this being the\nchurch to which belongs the writer who accuses the Catholic Church of\nhaving changed in faith, and deprived her children of their moral and\nmental freedom--and the newest sect of all, namely, the so-called Old\nCatholics, owing to the same writer\u2019s admiration of those who figure in\nits ranks.\n\nReason, so loudly appealed to by Mr. Gladstone, has been strictly adhered\nto by Father Tondini in his careful examination of the credentials of\nthe two latter bodies, and we will give, in as concise a form as may\nbe consistent with clearness, the result of his inquiry. He especially\naddresses those who admit the existence of a visible Church of Christ,\nand still more particularly those who, rather than reconcile themselves\nto the Catholic Church, say that neither the Roman Catholic Church,\nnor the Anglican Establishment, nor the Old-Catholic Society, but the\nOriental Orthodox Church, is the true visible church of Christ.\n\n\nI.\n\nThe claims of the Anglican Church are first examined, her vitality being\nan argument that we are in presence of an institution adhered to, at\nleast by a large portion of her members, with conviction and devotedness,\nas a valuable medium between unbelief and superstition, worldliness and\nsanctity; and of a state church as solidly framed as human genius could\ndevise.\n\n\u201cBodies,\u201d says Mr. Gladstone, \u201care usually held to be bound by the\nevidence of their own selected and typical witnesses.\u201d[186] Now,\nthe selected and typical witnesses of the Church of England are the\nsovereign, who is \u201cDefender of the Faith and Supreme Governor of the\nChurch in her Dominions,\u201d and the episcopate. If the whole clergy is\nconsulted, the evidence becomes as undeniable as it can possibly be.\n\nThis perfect evidence is found in the Thirty-nine Articles, which are\nthus headed: \u201cArticles agreed upon by the archbishops and bishops of\nboth provinces, and the whole clergy, assembled in convocation holden at\nLondon in the year 1562, for the avoiding of diversities of opinions,\u201d\netc., etc.\n\nThe Ratification is to the same effect, with the addition of the assent\nand consent of the queen (Elizabeth), after their final rehearsal in the\nGeneral Convocation of bishops and clergy in 1571. They are, moreover,\nreprinted in the _Book of Common Prayer_, with the Declaration of King\nJames I. affixed, and which runs as follows:\n\n\u201cBeing by God\u2019s ordinance, according to our just title, Defender of\nthe Faith and supreme governor of the church in these our dominions,\n\u2026 we will that all curious search be laid aside, and these disputes\nshut up in God\u2019s promises as they be generally set forth in the Holy\nScriptures, and the general meaning of the Articles of the Church of\nEngland according to them; and that no man hereafter shall either print\nor preach to draw the article aside any way, but shall submit to it in\nthe plain and full meaning thereof, and \u2026 shall take it in the literal\nand grammatical sense.\u201d\n\n\u201cFollowing this last admonition, and bearing in mind that the Church\nof England considers herself to be a branch of the universal church of\nChrist, we open the _Book of Common Prayer_, and turn to those among\nthe Articles which treat of the universal church, that we may see how,\nwithout renouncing our Italian nationality--which to us is very dear--we\ncould belong to the universal church of Christ. We see an article headed\n\u2018Of the Authority of General Councils,\u2019 and, on reading it, find to our\nastonishment the definition, not indeed of the infallibility of the Pope,\nbut of the fallibility, without any exception, of the universal church of\nChrist! It is: Article XXI.--\u2018General Councils may not be called together\nwithout the commandment and will of princes. And when they be gathered\ntogether (forasmuch as they be an assembly of men, whereof all be not\ngoverned with the spirit and word of God), they may err, and sometimes\nhave erred, even in things pertaining unto God. Wherefore things ordained\nby them as necessary to salvation have neither strength nor authority,\nunless it may be declared that they be taken out of Holy Scripture.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cThus\u201d (we give Father Tondini\u2019s words) \u201cthe Church of England has\ndefined, in two plenary national councils, that the universal church of\nChrist, even when assembled in a general council, may err, and ordain, as\nnecessary to salvation, things which have neither strength nor authority;\nand a king, \u2018Defender of the Faith,\u2019 has declared that this is the true\ndoctrine of the Church of England, agreeable to God\u2019s word, and required\nall his loving subjects to submit to this article \u2018in the plain and full\nmeaning thereof,\u2019 and to take it \u2018in the literal and grammatical sense\u2019!\n\n\u201cWe can hardly trust our own eyes. Again: What does the word \u2018declare\u2019\nmean in the concluding words of the article? This word may convey two\nsenses--that of proving and of making a declaration.\n\n\u201cIn the first case, _who_ is to offer the proofs that \u2018the thing ordained\nas necessary to salvation\u2019 is taken out of Holy Scripture? This the\nChurch of England has forgotten to tell us!\u2026 Moreover, an authority\nwhose decrees, in order to have a binding power, must be proved to be\ntaken out of Holy Scripture, is by that very fact subordinate to those\nwho are called to examine the proofs.[187] The chief authorities of the\nchurch assembled in a general council are thus rendered as inferior to\nthe faithful as the claimant is inferior to the judge who is about to\npronounce sentence upon his claims. The teaching and governing body\nof the church is consequently no more than an assembly commissioned\nto frame, \u2018as necessary to salvation,\u2019 laws to be submitted to the\napprobation of the faithful!\n\n\u201cIs this serious? Is it even respectful to human intelligence?\u201d\n\nAgain, if the word \u201cdeclare\u201d must be taken in the sense of a declaration,\nFather Tondini asks: \u201cBut by whom is such a declaration to be made?\nAssuredly not by the council itself--\u2018judice in caus\u00e2 propri\u00e2.\u2019 An\nauthority liable to err, \u2018even in things pertaining unto God,\u2019 and to\nordain \u2018as necessary to salvation\u2019 things which have \u2018neither strength\nnor authority,\u2019 is liable also to mistake the sense of Holy Scripture.\nTo seek such a declaration from this fallible authority would be like\nbegging the question.\n\n\u201cThe declaration must, then, be made by some authority external to the\ngeneral council. But the \u2018archbishops, bishops, and the whole clergy of\nEngland\u2019 have omitted to inform the faithful _where_ such an authority is\nto be found. Moreover, since a general council--that is, the \u2018selected\nand typical witnesses\u2019 of the whole Church of Christ--may err (according\nto Article XXI.), it necessarily follows that portions of the whole\nchurch of Christ may err also. In fact, this natural consequence is\nexplicitly stated in Article XIX. The zeal displayed by the Church of\nEngland in asserting the fallibility, both of the whole church of Christ\nand of portions of that church, may be said to rival that of the most\nfervent advocates of the infallibility of the Pope.\u201d\n\nThis XIXth Article modestly asserts that, \u201cas the Churches of Jerusalem,\nAlexandria, and Antioch have erred, so also the Church of Rome hath\nerred, not only in their living and manner of ceremonies, but also in\nmatters of faith.\u201d\n\nWhereupon \u201ca legitimate doubt arises whether the Church of England, too,\nmight not have erred in issuing the Thirty-nine Articles of Religion.\nThis doubt is very material. These Articles ordain several things as\n\u2018necessary to salvation.\u2019 Are they, or are they not, \u2018taken out of Holy\nScripture\u2019? Have they, or have they not, \u2018strength and authority\u2019?\u201d\n\nShortly after their promulgation, we have it upon the authority of\nKing James I. himself that this doubt gave rise to \u201cdisputations,\naltercations, and questions such as may nourish faction both in the\nchurch and commonwealth,\u201d and his majesty adds that \u201ctherefore, upon\nmature deliberation,\u201d etc., he \u201cthought fit\u201d to make the declaration\nfollowing:\n\n\u201cThat the Articles of the Church of England \u2026 do contain the true\ndoctrine of the Church of England, agreeable to God\u2019s Word, which WE do\ntherefore ratify and confirm.\u201d\n\n\u201cMay we\u201d (with Father Tondini) \u201cbe allowed respectfully to ask whether\nKing James I. was infallible?\u201d\n\nAnd if so, why should Catholics be charged with having forfeited\ntheir mental and moral freedom, etc., etc., because they admit the\ninfallibility of the Pope, which results, by the law of development, from\nseveral passages of Holy Scripture; whereas, on the contrary, no \u201cbrain\npower\u201d will ever be able to discover a single word in Holy Scripture\nwhich can, by the most vigorous process of development, bud forth into\nthe infallibility of a King of England?\n\nOn the other hand, if King James were _not_ infallible, by what right\ncould he then prohibit and _will_ in matters of faith for his subjects?\n\nHis only right was this: that the Church of England had been made a\npowerful _instrumentum regni_ in the hands of her sovereigns,[188] just\nas the Church of Russia is in the hands of her czars.\n\nAfter this, observes the writer, no inconsistency ought to astonish us.\n\nIn Article XVIII. it is declared that \u201cthe body of Christ is given,\ntaken, and eaten in the [Lord\u2019s] Supper _only after an heavenly\nand spiritual manner_\u201d; and again, at the end of the \u201cOrder of the\nMinistration of the Holy Communion,\u201d that \u201cthe natural body and blood\nof our Saviour Christ are in heaven, _and not here_.\u201d How can these\ndeclarations be made to agree with the following, which is taught in the\nLittle Catechism?--\u201cThe body and blood of Christ are _verily and indeed\ntaken_ and received by the faithful in the Lord\u2019s Supper.\u201d\n\nAgain, in Article XI. we find: \u201cThat we are justified by faith _only_\nis a most wholesome doctrine, and very full of comfort\u201d; whereas in the\norder for the visitation of the sick we read as follows:\n\n\u201cHere shall the sick person be moved to make _a special confession of his\nsins_, if he feel his conscience troubled with any weighty matter. After\nwhich confession the priest shall absolve him (if he humbly and heartily\ndesire it) after this sort,\u201d etc., etc.\n\n\u201cBut,\u201d asks Father Tondini, \u201cby what strange metamorphosis can the\nabove-quoted doctrine of justification _by faith only_, declared to be\n\u2018most wholesome and very full of comfort\u2019 while we are in good health,\ncease to possess the power of comforting the conscience of a sick\nperson? And how can confession, which through life is to be considered\nby Anglicans as \u2018_grown of the corrupt following of the apostles_\u2019 (see\nArticle XXV.), become suddenly so transfigured by the approach of death\nas to obtain the power of relieving a conscience \u2018troubled with any\nweighty matter\u2019?\u201d\n\nAlthough it may not be matter of much surprise that a church which has\nso carefully defined her own fallibility should have one doctrine for\nher children in their days of health and vigor, and another for the\ntime of their sickness and death, still it does surprise us that a man\nof education like Mr. Gladstone should be so unconscious of his own\nextraordinary inconsistency in appealing--as he does throughout his\nattacks against Catholics and the Catholic Church--to \u201cmental and moral\nfreedom,\u201d \u201clogic,\u201d \u201cconsistency of mind,\u201d \u201cmanliness of thought,\u201d etc.,\netc.\n\nAlready arise from all sides echoes of the question singularly enough\nasked by Mr. Gladstone himself: \u201cIs the Church of England worth\npreserving?\u201d[189]\n\n\u201cThe Church of England,\u201d said Laud, \u201cis Protestant.\u201d And Mr. Gladstone,\ntrue to \u201cthe church of his birth and his country,\u201d protests, like her,\nagainst the church which made his country a Christian nation. The\nRitualists, the latest sect within her, still boast that they \u201chelp\nto keep people from the Church of Rome,\u201d and reject the imputation of\nsympathy with her as an insupportable calumny.[190] \u201cThey will give\ncommunion in Westminster Abbey to an Unitarian, flatter Jansenists and\nMonophysites, remain in communion with bishops whom they themselves\nproclaim to be heretics; but one thing they will not do--tolerate the\ncreed of the church to which they owe every fragment and crumb of\ntruth that remains to them.\u201d \u201cTake the great Anglian divines,\u201d writes\nMr. Marshall: \u201cBull scorned and preached against the Catholic Church;\nBarrow wrote a book against it; Sandys called the Vicar of Christ \u2018that\ntriple-crowned thief and murderer\u2019; Hooker sent for a dissenter on his\ndeath-bed; Morton, Bramhall, Andrews, and the rest avowed the opinion\nthat the Protestant sects of the Continent were as true churches as their\nown. Episcopal ordination, as the late Mr. J. Keble confessed, was not\nmade a condition for holding Anglican preferment until the latter half\nof the XVIIth century; and it was _then_ adopted as a weapon against the\ngrowing power of the dissenters. _Then_ Anglicans who had always argued\nas Protestants against the church began to argue as Catholics against\ndissent.\u201d\n\nAt the present time, however, the English episcopate seems veering round\nagain to the Protestant quarter, against the pseudo-Catholic innovations\nof a portion of the clergy. The _Church Herald_, which, up to the time\nwhen it ceased to exist, a few weeks ago, had been protesting for many\nmonths previously, with good reason, against the implacable opposition\noffered by the Anglican bishops to the so-called \u201cCatholic revival,\u201d\ngravely told its readers, while asserting once more that \u201cno one trusts\nthe bishops,\u201d and that \u201cof influence they have and can have next to\nnone,\u201d nevertheless that \u201ctheir claims as Catholic bishops were never\nso firmly established.\u201d (!) Certainly Anglican logic is peculiar. Their\nbishops were never more vehemently opposed to the Catholic faith; but no\nmatter, \u201cnever were they more truly Catholic.\u201d (!)\n\n\u201cI have very reluctantly,\u201d says Dr. Lee (as reported in the _John Bull_),\n\u201ccome to a conclusion which makes me melancholy--that the passing of\nthe Public Worship Bill has to all intents and purposes sealed the fate\nof the Church of England.\u201d Its end, he thinks, is very near, because\nno church can last unless it be a true portion of the one family of\nGod--not a mere human sect, taking its variable opinion from the civil\ngovernment, and its practice from a parliamentary officer without the\nfaintest shadow of spiritual authority. \u201cThe point that gravely perplexes\nme,\u201d he writes, \u201cwith regard to the new law, is that our bishops, one\nand all, have, with their eyes open and deliberately, renounced their\nspiritual jurisdiction, which, for both provinces and every diocese, is\nplaced in the hands of Lord Penzance, ex-judge of the Divorce Court.\u201d For\nwhich reason certain Ritualist papers lament it as \u201cstrange and sad\u201d that\nDr. Lee should say of the bishops and their bill exactly the same _after_\ntheir victory as they themselves had said _before_ it. These papers,\nafter the example of some learned Anglican professors, etc., are ready\nenough beforehand to threaten, in the event of such and such a decision,\nto \u201creconsider their position.\u201d The decision is made; they then discover\nthat, after all, it is not so very serious, and compose themselves, for\nthe third, or fourth, or fifth time, just where they were before.\n\nIt is stated that the first case under the Public Worship Regulations\nAct is now being brought before Lord Penzance. It is a suit against the\nRev. J. C. Ridsdale, incumbent of S. Peter\u2019s, Folkestone. According to\nthe new law, three inhabitants made a representation to the Archbishop\nof Canterbury as to the manner in which the services were conducted at\nS. Peter\u2019s. A copy of the representation was forwarded to Mr. Ridsdale,\nand, no agreement to abide by the decision of the archbishop having been\nmade, the proceedings will be determined by the judge, from whom there\nis an ultimate appeal to her Majesty in council. There are, it is said,\nthree cases pending under the new law; and fresh proceedings are about\nto be commenced against the clergy of S. Alban\u2019s, Holborn. The bill bids\nfair to be as one-sided in its application as it avowedly was in its\nintention. \u201cThe Puritan triumph in the XVIIth century,\u201d said the Bishop\nof London, \u201cwould not be more disastrous than a pseudo-Catholic triumph\nnow,\u201d and the rest of the episcopal bench are evidently of the same mind.\n\nNor can it be matter of much surprise that such repression should be\nexercised against men, many of them truly earnest and self-denying, who\nare the means of reviving a certain amount of Catholic doctrine as well\nas practice (however illegal) in their communion, when Dr. Lee is able\nto write as follows to an episcopal correspondent: \u201cThe Catholic faith,\nArchbishop Tait, in the presence of his suffragans, frankly declared\nthat _neither he nor they believed_, and his grace--to give him all\ncredit--has done his worst to get rid of it.\u201d\n\nHere again can we wonder at the result, even to her highest dignitaries,\nof the uncertain teaching of a church which, from its very beginning, was\nintended to be a compromise?\n\nAnd, again, how can a church which is essentially a compromise be\nexpected to sympathize with that unchanging church which is \u201cthe pillar\nand ground of the truth\u201d?\n\n\nII.\n\nTo return to Father Tondini\u2019s essay. We come now to consider the newest\namong the sects, the so-called Old Catholics, who, after the manner of\nmany other schismatics, appropriate the name of \u201cCatholic\u201d with an affix\nof their own, which is a proof that theirs is a base metal, unworthy of\nthe \u201cimage and superscription of the King\u201d or his appointed vicegerent.\n\nMr. Gladstone\u2019s judgment of these people is thus expressed: \u201cWhen the\ncup of endurance,\u201d he says, \u201cwhich had so long been filling, began, with\nthe Council of the Vatican in 1870, to overflow, the most famous and\nlearned living theologian of the Roman communion, Dr. von D\u00f6llinger, long\nthe foremost champion of his church, refused compliance, and submitted,\nwith his temper undisturbed and his freedom unimpaired, to the extreme\nand most painful penalty of excommunication. With him many of the most\nlearned and respected theologians of the Roman communion in Germany\nunderwent the same sentence. The very few who elsewhere (I do not speak\nof Switzerland) suffered in like manner deserve an admiration rising in\nproportion to their fewness.\n\n\u201cIt seems as though Germany, from which Luther blew the mighty trumpet\nthat even now echoes through the land, still retained her primacy in the\ndomain of conscience, still supplied the _centuria pr\u00e6rogativa_ of the\ngreat _comitia_ of the world.\u201d[191]\n\nAfter giving this quotation, Father Tondini, in the exercise of his\n\u201cmental freedom,\u201d proceeds to examine whether Old Catholics really\ndeserve this highly laudatory and enthusiastic passage, and in what their\nmerit consists.\n\nTheir merit consists \u201cin having rebelled against the church to which they\npreviously belonged, on the ground that, in their conviction, she had\nchanged her faith.\n\n\u201cNot one single bishop, not one out of the teaching body of the\nchurch, has expressed the same conviction. Old Catholics are, then, a\nmere handful \u2026 protesting against the Pope and the whole episcopate,\npreferring their own private judgment to that of the whole teaching body\nof the Catholic Church, and fully decided to do everything in their\npower to bring about the triumph of their private personal judgment.\nTheir first act was to raise a schism in the church. They had openly\nand freely separated themselves from her long before the sentence of\nexcommunication was notified to them. They then became the occasion of a\nsevere persecution against their former fellow-Catholics; and now, whilst\nthe persecution is raging, and Old Catholics, supported by governments\nand the press, have suffered neither in person nor property, nor in\ntheir individual liberty, we are called upon to bestow upon those who\nsuffered \u2018in like manner\u2019 an admiration rising in proportion to their\nfewness!\u201d[192]\n\nBut why is this? and what is the _Expostulation_ itself but a cry of\nalarm to prevent British Catholics from rebelling against the queen?\nWhy, then, is the rebellion of some private individuals to be extolled\nin terms like these? Or if, indeed, strong private religious convictions\n(taking it for granted that the Old Catholics have such) make it\npraiseworthy to rebel against the church, why should not strong private\npolitical convictions make it equally praiseworthy to rebel against the\nstate? The field of similar applications is fearfully wide, and many a\nparental admonition to an indolent or disobedient child might be met by\nthe young rebel in Mr. Gladstone\u2019s words, that \u201cwith temper undisturbed,\nwith freedom unimpaired,\u201d he had no intention to do as he was bid.\n\nThe first official document of the Old Catholics is the \u201cDeclaration\u201d of\nDr. von D\u00f6llinger and his adherents, dated Munich, June, 1871,[193] and\nwhich bears the signatures of Dr. von D\u00f6llinger, sixteen professors or\ndoctors, seven magistrates, three private gentlemen, two manufacturers,\none \u201cMa\u00eetre royal des c\u00e9r\u00e9monies,\u201d and one \u201cIntendant royal de musique au\nth\u00e9\u00e2tre de cour\u201d--thirty-one signatures in all, to which was added later\nthat of the unhappy Loyson.\n\nThe second document is a French manifesto or appeal, \u201cAux fid\u00e8les de\nl\u2019Ancienne Eglise Catholique,\u201d signed \u201cE. Michaud, Docteur en Th\u00e9ologie,\u201d\ndated 1872, and widely circulated in France, with a request that every\nreader will help to make it known and gain as many additional adherents\nas possible.\n\nThe style of both documents is peculiar. They alike belong to those\nliterary productions which betray an almost feverish excitement of mind.\nA small number of persons, till lately belonging to the Catholic Church,\ndeclare themselves \u201cdetermined\u201d to do their utmost towards bringing about\n\u201cthe reform of ecclesiastical affairs, so long desired and henceforth so\ninevitable, in the organization as well as in the life of the church.\u201d\nIn fact, the authors of both these documents show a faith in their\nown infallibility, both doctrinal and practical, at least as strong as\ntheir conviction of the fallibility of the Pope. They are peculiarly\nunfortunate in their choice of the fathers they quote, as well as in\ntheir appeal to the authority of S. Paul. Their style is certainly\nwholly unlike that of this great apostle, who, with so much earnestness\nand humility, begs the prayers of the faithful, while the necessity of\nprayer for such an undertaking as that which the Old Catholics call\nthe \u201cregeneration of the church\u201d is not even once alluded to in their\nmanifestoes.\n\nThere is another consideration which presents itself. Every practical\nman is careful to ascertain the competency, in any particular subject,\nof those who give him their advice upon it. A sick man would not consult\na lawyer for his cure, nor an aggrieved man seek legal advice of his\nbaker or shoemaker. The distinguished magistrates who signed the German\nDeclaration must be supposed to have done so, not in consequence of\na clear and detailed knowledge of the grounds of the assertions it\ncontained, but in consequence of their confidence in Dr. von D\u00f6llinger,\nwhich led them to adopt his views. In the same way must be explained\nthe adhesions given by the respectable manufacturers, \u201cMa\u00eetre royal\ndes c\u00e9r\u00e9monies,\u201d and \u201cIntendant royal de musique au th\u00e9\u00e2tre de cour\u201d;\nfor though these pursuits need not be in themselves an obstacle to a\nman being well acquainted with religious matters, still they are an\nundeniable argument against his having made it the chief object of his\nstudies.\n\n\u201cNow,\u201d continues Father Tondini, \u201cthe charges brought in the present\ncase against the Catholic Church are so heavy, and the mere probability\nof their being founded on truth of such vital importance to the whole\nChristian world, \u2026 that to require something more than the ordinary\namount of theological science which is in general to be found in men\ninvolved in worldly affairs of the most distracting kind, is only acting\nin accordance with the most ordinary laws of prudence. All this will\nbecome evident if we only suppose that the \u2018Declaration\u2019 had appeared\nwithout the signatures of Dr. von D\u00f6llinger and the above-mentioned\nprofessors.\u201d In looking over the latter we find that none of them can lay\nany claim to the same scientific authority and repute as that which he\nenjoys; and the same remark applies to all who have subsequently joined\nthe Old Catholics.\n\nWith regard to Dr. von D\u00f6llinger himself, he has till now, if we\nare rightly informed, abstained from joining his fellow-subscribers\nto the German \u201cDeclaration\u201d in their submission to Mgr. Reinkens,\nthe Old-Catholic Bishop of Germany. \u201cThus the chief promoter of the\nopposition to the Vatican Council stands apart, and we should be grateful\nto any one who might tell us to what church he belongs and whom he\nrecognizes as his legitimate bishop. We cannot suppose that he whom Mr.\nGladstone calls \u2018the most famous and learned theologian of the Roman\ncommunion\u2019 has the pretension of forming a church in his own person.\u201d\n\nFather Tondini next notices the remarkable phenomenon presented by Old\nCatholicism during the first three years of its existence as body without\na head, and calls the reader\u2019s attention to the following passage in the\nFrench manifesto:\n\n\u201cIf it be the will of God,\u201d thus it runs, \u201cthat some Roman bishops have\nthe courage to return publicly to the profession of the ancient faith,\nwe will place them with joy at our head. And if none break publicly\nwith heresy, our church, though essentially episcopal, will not for\nthat reason be condemned to die; for as soon as it shall be possible to\nregularize its situation in this respect, we shall choose priests who\nwill receive either in the West or in the East an episcopal consecration\nof unquestionable validity.\u201d\n\n\u201cThese,\u201d he remarks, \u201care plain words. It evidently results from\nthem that there was a time when the church, \u2018unstained by any Roman\ninnovation,\u2019 was still looking for a bishop--in other words, for a head,\nwhich she did not possess as yet. How, in spite of this deficiency,\nthe Old-Catholic Church could be termed essentially episcopal we are\nat a loss to understand. That which is essential to a thing is that\nwithout which it cannot possibly exist for a single moment; but here\nwe are asked to believe in a miracle which at once destroys all our\nphysical and metaphysical notions of things. A new-born warrior fighting\nwithout a head, and a being existing without one of its essential\nconstituents--such are the wonders which accompanied the genesis of the\nso-called regenerated church of the Old Catholics.\u201d\n\nThe German Declaration in like manner states the then headless condition\nof the Old-Catholic body. Its subscribers, and among them Prof. Reinkens,\nsay they look forward to a time when \u201call Catholicity shall be placed\nunder the direction of a primate and an episcopacy, which by means of\nscience,\u201d etc., etc., \u201cand not by the decrees of the Vatican, \u2026 shall\napproach the crowning object assigned to Christian development--we mean\nthat of the union of the other Christian confessions now separated from\nus,\u201d etc.\n\nSuch was their language in June, 1871, when they were already nearly a\nyear old. Their first bishop, Joseph Hubert Reinkens, was consecrated\nin August, 1873. These dates are very important. No power on earth will\never be able to annul them as historical facts, which prove that a body\ncalling itself the true church of Christ has existed some time without a\nsingle bishop, although bishops are essential to the church of Christ, as\nScripture, tradition, history, all antiquity agree. S. Cyprian says:\n\n\u201cThe church is the people in union with the bishop--a flock adhering to\nits shepherd. The bishop is in the church and the church in the bishop.\nHe who is not with the bishop is not in the church.\u201d[194] And again:\n\u201cHe cannot be accounted a bishop who, in despite of the evangelic and\napostolic tradition, has, of himself, become one (_a se ipso ortus est,\nnemini succedens_), and succeeds to none.\u201d\n\nNow, \u201cto what bishop\u201d (asks Father Tondini) \u201cdid Dr. Reinkens succeed?\nHis first pastoral letter, dated August 11, 1873, is addressed \u2018to the\npriests and faithful of Germany who persevere in the ancient Catholic\nfaith.\u2019 Who ever heard of the bishop and diocese of Germany before\nthis letter?\u201d Again: \u201cThat same Dr. Reinkens who in June, 1871, signed\nthe \u2018Declaration\u2019 in which the Christian confessions outside the Roman\nChurch were called \u2018Christian confessions now separated from us,\u2019 in\nAugust, 1873, saluted with the title of \u2018Old Catholics,\u2019 the Jansenists\nof Holland, and Mgr. Heykamp, the bishop by whom he was consecrated, with\nthat of \u2018bishop of the Old Catholics\u2019!\u201d[195]\n\n\nIII.\n\nWe now come to the consideration of Old Catholicism as an instrument of\nunion between the Christian Episcopal churches. In accordance with their\n\u201cDeclaration,\u201d the Old Catholics insist upon its being one of their main\nobjects to reunite the Christian churches separated from Rome during\nthe VIIIth and IXth centuries, and complacently boast of the marks of\nsympathy bestowed upon them by these churches.\n\nFrom one of their manifestoes Father Tondini quotes the following\nimportant statements:\n\n\u201cThe bishops of the Oriental Orthodox Church\u201d--thus runs the\nmanifesto--\u201cand those of the Episcopal Church of England and the United\nStates of America (!) encourage Old Catholicism with their most profound\nsympathy. Representatives of the Orthodox Church of Russia assist every\nyear at its congress.\u2026 The interest displayed for it by governments is\nnot inferior to that of the churches.\u2026 The governments of Russia and of\nEngland are disposed to recognize its rights when it shall be opportune\nto do so.\u201d[196]\n\nUpon which he points out the exceeding inexpediency, for their own sakes,\nof these governments or their bishops having any participation in the\ndoings of Old Catholics; and this for the following reasons, which are\nworthy of careful consideration by the two governments in question, and\nwhich we give in his own words:\n\n\u201cIn order, it would seem, to escape the stringent conclusion of S.\nCyprian\u2019s words, \u2018He who does not succeed to other bishops, but is\nself-originated, cannot be reckoned among bishops,\u2019 Mgr. Reinkens, in his\nabove-quoted pastoral letter, \u2026 authoritatively declared not only that\nthe \u2018apostolic see of Rome was vacant,\u2019 but that not one of the actually\nexisting Roman Catholic bishops was legitimate.\n\n\u201cIn support of this assumption the Old-Catholic bishop invokes some\nfathers of the church--not, indeed, what they said or did while living,\nbut what they would say or do if they were to return to life: \u2018If the\ngreat bishops of the ancient church were to return to life in the midst\nof us,\u2019 says Mgr. Reinkens, \u2018a Cyprian, (!) a Hilary, an Ambrose, \u2026 they\nwould acknowledge none of the existing bishops of the Roman Catholic\nChurch as validly elected.\u2019[197]\n\n\u201cSo much for the fact. As it can only be ascertained when those great\nbishops are restored to life, all we can do is to defer this verification\nuntil the great day of judgment.\n\n\u201cNow comes the general principle on which the assumed fact is founded.\nLet us listen again to Mgr. Reinkens: \u2018They [the resuscitated bishops of\nthe ancient church] would not acknowledge any of the existing bishops of\nthe Roman Catholic Church as validly elected, because none of them were\nappointed in conformity with the immutable rule of the fathers of the\nchurch. Never! no, never! would they have received into their company,\nin the quality of a Catholic bishop, one who had not been chosen by the\npeople and the clergy. This mode of election was considered by them as of\ndivine precept, and consequently as immutable.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cHow many bishops are there in existence at the present day,\u201d asks Father\nTondini, \u201ceither in the Anglican Church or in the Christian East, who\nhave been chosen by the people and the clergy?\u201d\n\nIn answer to this question we have, respecting the non-popular mode of\nelection in the Oriental Orthodox Church, the following trustworthy\ninformation: In the Orthodox Church of the Turkish Empire the election\nof a patriarch is made by the members of its synod, which is composed of\nmetropolitans, of one of their own number, and this election \u201cis then\nmade known to the people assembled in the atrium of the synodicon, who\ngive, by acclamation and the cry of \u1f04\u03be\u03b9\u03bf\u03c2 (worthy), their assent to the\nelection.\u2026 This, however, is in fact an empty formality; the more so\nas the election itself is the result of previous secret understandings\nbetween the more influential members of the synod and the leading men\namong the people.\u201d[198]\n\n\u201cThe three patriarchs of Alexandria, Antioch, and Jerusalem are elected\nby their respective synods, composed of metropolitans.\n\n\u201cThe metropolitans and bishops of each patriarchate are elected by the\nrespective patriarchs, together with their synods.\u201d\n\nDid the Patriarch of Constantinople, in agreeing, on the invitation of\nDr. von D\u00f6llinger, to send representatives of the Greek Orthodox Church\nto the Old Catholic Church Congress at Bonn, forget that, according to\nMgr. Reinkens, all bishops who have not been elected by the clergy and\nthe people are illegitimate bishops, that their sees are all vacant, that\nthis mode of election is of divine precept, and consequently immutable?\n\n\u201cWe know not,\u201d says Father Tondini, \u201cwhich of the two is more to be\nwondered at: the boldness of the Old Catholics in inviting the patriarch\nto be represented at the congress, or the logical inconsistency of the\npatriarch in accepting the invitation.\u201d\n\nNext, with regard to the Orthodox Church of the Russian Empire.\n\nNo one who may have read \u201cThe Future of the Russian Church,\u201d which\nrecently appeared in the pages of THE CATHOLIC WORLD,[199] will need to\nbe told how little voice either the inferior clergy or people of Russia\nhave in the election of their bishops. The Most Holy Governing Synod\nproposes to his majesty two persons (on an eparchy becoming vacant), and\nthat one of the two selected by the czar is chosen and consecrated.[200]\n(See Consett, _Spiritual Regulation of Peter the Great_.)\n\nIn the formula of the oath taken by the Russian bishops before being\nconsecrated, they engage themselves to yield true obedience to the Holy\nSynod, \u201cthe legitimate authority instituted by the pious Emperor Peter\nthe Great of immortal memory, and confirmed by command of his (or her)\npresent imperial majesty,\u201d and to obey all the rules and statutes made by\nthe authority of the synod agreeably to the will of his (or her) imperial\nmajesty, adding the following words: \u201cFurthermore, I do testify that I\nhave not received this province in consideration of gold or silver given\nby me, \u2026 but I have received it by the free will of our most serene and\nmost puissant sovereign (by name), and by the _election_ of the Holy\nLegislative Synod.[201] Moreover, at the beginning of the ceremony the\nbishop-consecrator thus addresses the newly-elected bishop: \u201cReverend\nFather N., the Most Serene and Most Puissant Czar N. N. _hath commanded,\nby his own singular and proper edict_, and the Holy Legislative Synod of\nall the Russias gives its benediction thereto, that you, holy sir, be\nbishop of the city of N.\u201d; to which the future bishop is made to answer:\n\u201cSince the Most Serene, etc., Czar has _commanded_, and the \u2026 synod \u2026 has\njudged me worthy to undertake this province, I give thanks therefor, and\ndo undertake it and in nowise gainsay.\u201d[202]\n\nAfter similarly disposing (with regard to the remaining Oriental\nchurches) of Mr. Gladstone\u2019s extraordinary assertion that \u201cthe ancient\nprinciples of popular election and control exist in the Christian\nEast\u201d--an assertion of which also he makes use as a weapon against the\nCatholic Church[203]--Father Tondini passes on to the election of bishops\nin the Anglican Church. With regard to this, the following abstract from\nStephen is amply sufficient to show how far \u201cthe principles of popular\nelection\u201d prevail in the nomination of the bishops of the Establishment:\n\n\u201cBy statute 25 Henry VIII. c. 20 the law was altered and the right of\nnomination secured to the crown, it being enacted that, at every future\navoidance of a bishopric, the king may send the dean and chapter his\nusual license to proceed to election, or _cong\u00e9 d\u2019elire_, which is always\nto be accompanied with a letter missive from the king, containing the\nname of the person whom he would have them elect; and if the dean and\nchapter delay their election above twelve days, the nomination shall\ndevolve to the king, who may by letters-patent appoint such person as\nhe pleases. This election or nomination, if it be of a bishop, must be\nsignified by the king\u2019s letters-patent to the archbishop of the province;\nif it be of an archbishop, to the other archbishop and two bishops, or\nto four bishops, requiring them to confirm, invest, and consecrate the\nperson so elected; which they are bound to perform immediately, without\nany application to the See of Rome. After which the bishop-elect shall\nsue to the king for his temporalities, shall take oath to the king and to\nnone other, and shall take restitution of his secular possessions out of\nthe king\u2019s hand only. And if such dean and chapter do not elect in this\nmanner by this act appointed, or if such archbishop or bishop do refuse\nto confirm, invest, and consecrate such bishop-elect, they shall incur\nall the penalties of a pr\u00e6munire--that is, the loss of all civil rights,\nthe forfeiture of lands, goods, and chattels, and imprisonment during\nthe royal pleasure. It is to be observed, however, that the mode here\ndescribed of appointing bishops applies only to such sees as are of old\nfoundation. The five new bishoprics created by Henry VIII. \u2026 have always\nbeen donatives, and conferred by letters-patent from the crown; and the\ncase is the same as to the bishopric of Ripon, now recently created\u201d\n(Stephen\u2019s _Commentaries on the Laws of England_, vol. iii. p. 61).\n\nIn concluding his essay, Father Tondini repeats Mgr. Reinkens\u2019 words:\n\u201cIf the great bishops of the ancient church were to return to life in\nthe midst of us, \u2026 never! no, never! would they have received into their\ncompany, in the quality of a Christian bishop, one who had not been\nchosen by the people and the clergy; this mode of election was considered\nby them as of divine precept, and consequently as immutable\u201d; and then\nasks: \u201cHow can the support given by the state churches and governments of\nEngland and Russia to Old Catholicism be explained? Is it for the purpose\nof declaring that all the episcopal sees, both of England and Russia, are\nvacant and awaiting the choice of the people?\u201d\n\nThe reader, being now acquainted with much of the contents as well as\nwith the general tenor of Father Tondini\u2019s essay, may find some interest\n(possibly amusement also) in comparing the following remarks of the\nLondon _Tablet_ (Sept. 18) with the confirmation of their accurate\nappreciation of the \u201cBritish Philistine\u2019s\u201d pride in his own obtuseness so\ningenuously furnished (Sept. 25) by a writer in the _Church Review_:\n\nLONDON TABLET.\n\n\u201cWe are a little afraid that the Anglican sympathizers with the Old\nCatholics will not be sharp enough to understand the keen logic of Father\nTondini\u2019s concise reasoning. The British Philistine rather glories in\nbeing impervious to logic or wit, and chuckles over his own obtuseness\nas a proof of the strength of the religion which he patronizes. It is\nprovoking to a zealous controversialist to have to do battle with such a\nheavy antagonist, but we trust the good father will not cease to labor at\nthe conversion of our illogical but worthy fellow-countrymen. We thank\nhim for a well-timed and well-written pamphlet.\u201d\n\n(The _Universe_ calls it \u201canother fatal blow for the theology of our\nex-prime minister; closely reasoned and perfectly terrible in its manner\nof grasping its luckless opponent.\u201d--_Universe_, September 25, 1875.)\n\nCHURCH REVIEW.\n\n\u201cThe Rev. C\u00e6sar Tondini, who is fond of linking Russian Orthodoxy and\nAnglican Catholicism in one sweeping condemnation, is by no means one\nof the Pope\u2019s greatest controversialists. But this pamphlet is hardly\nworthy of even his reputation. Every point in it might be answered by\na _tu quoque_. Fact might be set against fact, defect against defect,\ninnovation against innovation, inconsistency against inconsistency,\nand error against error. But picking holes in our neighbor\u2019s coat will\nnever mend the rents in our own. So we forbear, content for the present\nto congratulate ourselves on the fact that, while Romanists are still\nutterly blind to their own nakedness, we have at least plucked a fig-leaf\nby the efforts already made to bring about reunion.\u201d [Who could help\nthinking, \u201cWe would not give a fig for such a leaf as this\u201d?]\n\n\nIV.\n\nWe will conclude the present notice by some account of the recent\nConference at Bonn, in which the Old Catholics have given abundant\nproof that they are no freer from variation than are any other of the\nProtestant sects.\n\nDesirous of strengthening their position by alliance with other forms\nof schism, Dr. von D\u00f6llinger invited to a congress representatives\nof the schismatic Greek and Russian Church, the English and American\nEpiscopalians, and the Old Catholics. The assembly was called the\n\u201cInternational Conference of the Union of the Christian Churches,\u201d and\nproposed as its object an agreement on the fundamental points of doctrine\nprofessed by Christendom before its divisions, with a view \u201cto restore\nby a reform as broad as possible the ancient Catholic Church of the\nWest.\u201d[204]\n\nIn this International Conference, which began on the 12th of August and\nended on the 16th, the principal Orientals, who numbered about twenty\nin all, were two bishops from Roumania; an archimandrite from Belgrade;\ntwo archimandrites, Anastasiades and Bryennios, from Constantinople,\nsent by the patriarch as being well versed in all the questions which\nhave divided and which still divide the Greek and Latin Churches; there\nwere also present the Archbishop of Syra and Tino, Mgr. Licourgos, well\nknown in England, and six professors, among whom were Profs. Osinnin and\nJanischef, the latter being the gentleman who at the last Conference\nwas so severe on Anglican orders. The Protestant Episcopalians were the\nmost numerous, being about a hundred in number; but they had only one\nbishop among them--namely, the Bishop of Gibraltar. Those of Winchester\nand Lincoln, who had also given their adherence to the movement, found\nthemselves at the last moment unable to attend. The most notable person\nin the Anglican group was Dr. Liddon, Canon of S. Paul\u2019s. Dean Howson, of\nChester, was also one of its members; his \u201cviews\u201d on nearly every point\nof church teaching being diametrically opposed to those of Canon Liddon.\nThe same group contained an Unitarian minister from Chesterfield (Mr.\nSmith), and a \u201cPrimitive Methodist\u201d (Mr. Booth, a chemist and druggist\nof the same town), who on a late occasion was voted for and returned at\nthe head of the poll as an advocate of secular education. The Americans\nsent only three delegates, and the \u201cReformed Church\u201d one--the Rev.\nTh. de F\u00e9lice. The Old Catholics, all of whom were Germans, numbered\neighteen or twenty, with Dr. von D\u00f6llinger and Bishop Reinkens at their\nhead, supported by Herr Langen, \u201cAltkatholik\u201d; Herr Lange, Protestant,\nand Herr Lang, the least orthodox of all. Close to this little group\nfigured seven or eight more German Protestants. In all, the Conference\nwas composed of about one hundred and fifty persons, of whom the _Times_\nobserves that, \u201cslender as the gathering was, it was forced to display an\nalmost ludicrous caution in drawing up such articles of faith as would\ncommand the assent of the whole assembly\u201d--articles \u201cso vague that they\nmight be made to mean anything or nothing\u201d; and, further, that the few\nEnglish divines who went to Bonn to play at a council no more represent\nthe Church of England than Dr. von D\u00f6llinger represents the Church of\nRome, but spoke in the name of nothing but themselves. It suggests to\nthem, with scornful irony, that \u201ccharity begins at home,\u201d and that in the\npresent distracted state of the Church of England, \u201cwhen nothing keeps\nthe various and conflicting \u2018schools\u2019 of clergy in the same communion\nbut the secular forces of the Establishment, there is surely there a\nmagnificent field for the exercise of even a genius of conciliation.\u201d\n\nA Bavarian Protestant clergyman informed the assembly that, as there\nwas no chance of their coming to an agreement by means of discussion\nabout dogma, they had far better throw over dogma altogether, and trust\nto brotherly love to bring about union. Dr. von D\u00f6llinger, however,\nsaid that if they all shared this opinion, they had better have stayed\nat home. One reverend gentleman proposed to settle the difference by\nexamining where the fathers all harmonize, and abiding by the result\n(a task which, as a looker-on observed, would give all the theological\nacuteness and learning in the world abundant work for about half a\ndozen centuries); whereupon Bishop Reinkens nervously tried to draw the\ndebaters into the cloud-land of love and unity of purpose, etc., etc.\nBut here Canon Liddon hastened to the rescue with a carefully-prepared\nscheme for effecting the reconciliation of the East and West, which\nwas apparently received by the Orientals with a tranquil indifference,\nand was chiefly remarkable for its adroit semblance of effecting much,\nwhile it in fact does nothing. Yielding here and there a phrase of no\nspecial meaning, it declared in the next clause that it would retain its\nown form of the Creed until the dispute should be settled by \u201ca truly\n\u0153cumenical council.\u201d This announcement was the signal for an outburst of\ndisapproval, questions, and objections. \u201cWhat did Canon Liddon mean by\nan \u0153cumenical council?\u201d \u201cAn assent of the whole episcopate.\u201d This was\ntoo much for Lord Plunkett, who exclaimed that he would never have come\nto the Conference if he had known that it meant to confine the Christian\nChurch within the bounds of episcopacy. What, he should like to know,\nwas to hinder Presbyterian ministers from being admitted equally with\nbishops to take part in an \u0153cumenical council?\n\nOn this the canon obligingly agreed to substitute \u201cthe whole church\u201d\nfor the obnoxious term; but while the assembly hesitated, some paragon\nof caution suggested the phrase \u201csufficient authority.\u201d However, this\nmasterpiece of conciliation--for nobody could say what it meant--was\nrejected for \u201cthe whole church,\u201d this latter being equally ambiguous\nto those who were adopting it. On this they agreed. As the _Times\u2019_\ncorrespondent observes, \u201cEverybody will agree with everybody else when\nall deliberately use words for the purpose of concealing what they mean.\nWhen men differ from each other essentially, it is childish folly to try\nto unite them by an unmeaning phrase.\u201d\n\nThe great question was that of the procession of the Holy Spirit. On this\nM. Osinnin was the chief speaker on behalf of the Greeks, and he seems\nto have challenged every interpretation of the Westerns, maintaining\neven that _procedit_ was not an exact rendering of \u1f10\u03ba\u03c0\u03bf\u03c1\u03b5\u03cd\u03b5\u03c4\u03b1\u03b9. However,\na committee was appointed, composed of the Germans, two Orientals, an\nEnglishman, and an American; and Dr. von D\u00f6llinger announced to the\nConference on its last sitting that an agreement had been arrived at on\nall essential points. The Greeks were to retain their version of the\nNicene Creed, and the Westerns theirs; the latter were to admit that\nthe _Filioque_ had been improperly introduced, and that both were to\nagree that, whichever version they used, their meaning was that the Holy\nSpirit proceeds from the Father through the Son. With regard to the last\npoint, however, the Orientals said that although they had personally no\nobjection to the expression, yet they must decline to give any official\nassent to the article until it had been submitted to their synods or\nother competent authorities at home.\n\nJudging from every account we have seen (all of them Protestant) of the\nBonn Conference, it is evident that its members, in order to give an\nappearance of mutual agreement, subscribed to propositions which may be\ntaken in various senses. The six articles agreed to by the committee were\ncouched in the following terms:\n\n\u201cWe believe with S. John Damascene, 1, that the Holy Spirit proceeds\nfrom the Father as the beginning, the cause, and the fountain of Deity.\n2. That the Holy Spirit does not proceed from the Son \u1f10\u03ba \u03c4\u03bf\u1fe6 \u03c5\u03af\u03bf\u1fe6, and\nthat for this reason there is in the Godhead only one beginning, one\ncause, through which all that is in the Godhead is produced. 3. That the\nHoly Spirit is the image of the Son, who is the image of the Father,\nproceeding from the Father and resting in the Son, as the outbeaming\npower of the latter. 4. The Holy Spirit is the personal bringing forth\nof the Father, but belonging to the Son, yet not of the Son, since he\nis the Spirit of the Godhead which speaks forth the Word. 5. The Holy\nSpirit forms the connecting link between the Father and the Son, and is\nunited to the Father through the Son. 6. The Holy Spirit proceeds [or, as\namended by Mr. Meyrick, \u2018issues\u2019] from the Father through the Son.\u201d\n\nIt is the supposed denial of that unity of the \u03b1\u03c1\u03c7\u03ae, or originating\nprinciple in the Most Holy Trinity, which has always been the ground of\nthe Greek objections to the Latin form of the Creed.[205] \u201cThe double\n_Procession_[206] of the Holy Ghost has always been believed in the\nchurch, only to a certain number of minds it remained for a time obscure,\nand thus there are to be found in the writings of the fathers passages in\nwhich mention is made rather of the procession from the Father than of\nthe double procession from the Father and the Son, but yet none which,\nalthough not formally indicating, exclude or contradict it.\n\n\u201cIn recurring to the expressions employed by the fathers, the members of\nthe Bonn Conference have made choice of some of those which are vague\nand least explicit, instead of others which convey to the mind a clear\nidea. We are fully aware that, from a historical point of view, the\nquestion of the _Filioque_ presents some difficulties. At Nic\u00e6a, in 325,\nthe question of _procession_ was not even mentioned, from the fact of\nits not having up to that time been raised. At Constantinople, in 381,\nin order to cut short discussions which were tending to result in a\ndenial of the Trinity, the addition had been made to the Creed that the\nHoly Ghost proceeds from the Father, without mention of the Son. At the\nThird Council of Toledo, in 589, the faith of the church in the double\nprocession was clearly indicated by the addition of the _Filioque_--an\naddition, which was adopted by several particular councils, and which\nbecame general in France. The popes, however, foreseeing that the\nOrientals--always inclined to be ill-disposed towards the West--would\nmake this addition an excuse for breaking off into schism, appeared at\nfirst but little in favor of a modification which, although expressing\nwith greater accuracy the faith of the church, would furnish fresh fuel\nto theological disputes. It was a question of prudence. But when the\ntruth was once placed in peril, they hesitated no longer. All the West\nchanted the _Filioque_; and the Greeks themselves, on repeated occasions,\nand notably at the Council of Florence in 1438, confessed the double\nprocession to be an article of the Catholic faith.\u201d\n\nThe Old Catholics of Bonn have thus made, as it seems to us, a\nretrogression on this question. Will this help to secure \u201cthe union\nof the Christian churches\u201d which was the object of the Conference? In\noutward appearance possibly it may, because all the separated communities\nwillingly join hand in hand against the true church of Christ; but in\nreality, no, for the Greeks will continue to reject the procession\nthrough the Son, as the Anglicans will continue to accept it; and we have\nno need to say that the Catholic Church will never cease to confess the\ndouble procession, and to sing: _Qui ex Patre Filioque procedit_.\n\nWith regard to other subjects discussed by the meeting at Bonn, we will\nbriefly mention that Canon Liddon spoke against the invocation of saints,\nand Dr. von D\u00f6llinger talked of \u201cmaking a clear sweep\u201d of the doctrine\nof purgatory and indulgences; although, in stating the belief of his\nco-religionists, he was obliged to reaffirm the doctrine of purgatory in\nterms nearly equivalent to those of the Creed of Pope Pius IV. On this\nmatter, whatever the Greeks might do, how many of the Anglicans would\nagree with the Old Catholics? Not only are the people who go to these\nconferences from England in no sense representatives of the body to which\nthey belong, but even they themselves do not always abide by what they\nhave agreed to.[207] Dean Howson, in a statement he read at the last\nConference, put a Low-Church interpretation on the resolution of last\nyear\u2019s Conference about the Eucharist, which interpretation Canon Liddon\nimmediately repudiated. Before Greek or German schismatics can unite with\nthe Church of England, they will have to make up their minds as to which\nof at least four theological systems _is_ Anglicanism, and then to get\n_that_ admitted by the other three.\n\nAs to the validity of Anglican orders, Dr. von D\u00f6llinger appears to have\nconsidered it as resting on the certainty of Parker\u2019s consecration,\nwithout going into the really more important questions of Barlow\u2019s\norders, or the sufficiency of form or intention, all of which are matters\nof such grave doubt as to be practically worthless to any one insisting\nupon the necessity of _certainty_ that the communion to which he belongs\npossesses the apostolic succession.\n\nWe cannot conclude this sketch of the Bonn Conference without presenting\nour readers with a portrait of its chief, Dr. von D\u00f6llinger, drawn by a\nfriendly hand--that of a French apostate priest, and one of the members\nof the Conference--which we reproduce from the pages of the _Ind\u00e9pendance\nBelge_.\n\n\u201cM. D\u00f6llinger,\u201d he writes, \u201cpronounced three long and eloquent\ndiscourses, marked by that seriousness and depth which so especially\ncharacterize his manner of speaking; but notwithstanding their merit,\nthey have not resulted in any new conclusion. May not the blame be in\nsome measure due to M. Overbeck, who \u2026 introduced into the discussion\nauthorities posterior to the epoch of the separation of East and West,\nand mingled the question of the seven \u0153cumenical councils with that of\nthe _Filioque_?\u2026 At all events, both obscurity and coldness found their\nway into the debates.\u2026\n\n\u201cTruly, this excellent M. D\u00f6llinger seems fated to go on from one\ncontradiction to another, and to accept one year that which he refused\nin the preceding. For instance, in 1871, at the congress at Munich,\nhe energetically opposed the organization of Old-Catholic parishes;\nafterwards he resigned himself to consent to this. In 1871 he desired the\nOld Catholics to confine themselves, after his example, to protesting\nagainst the excommunication they had incurred; but later on he is willing\nthat their priests should take upon themselves the full exercise of their\nministry. In 1871 and 1872 he wished to maintain the decisions of the\nCouncil of Trent; in 1873 he decided to abandon them, as well as the\nalleged \u0153cumenicity of this council. In 1872 \u2026 he considered the attempts\nmade to establish union between the Old Catholics and the Oriental\nchurches as at any rate imprudent, if not even compromising. In 1874\nhe adopted the idea of which he had been so much afraid, and has since\nthat time used every endeavor to promote the union of the churches. Last\nyear a proposal [for a committee to examine on what points the earliest\nfathers harmonized] was rejected by M. D\u00f6llinger with a certain disdain,\nas impracticable and even childish. _Now_, however, we find him obliged\nto come back to it, at least in part.\u201d[208] \u201cIt is by no means in\nreproach but in praise that we say this,\u201d continues the writer, adding:\n\u201cHe accepted with the best grace possible, in one of the sittings of the\nConference this year, the observations of Prof. Osinnin on the manner of\nstudying texts; and when an erudite and venerable man like M. D\u00f6llinger\nknows how to correct himself with such humility, he does but raise\nhimself in the esteem of sincere men.\u201d\n\nWe would here venture to observe that when \u201cso erudite\u201d a man as Dr. von\nD\u00f6llinger, and one who is acknowledged by an entire sect as its most\ndistinguished doctor and its leader, is so little sure of his doctrine\nthat he is continually altering it, he and his followers are surely among\nthe last people who ought to refuse to the Pope the infallibility which\nhe in fact arrogates to himself in setting himself above an \u0153cumenical\ncouncil, as was that of the Vatican.\n\nIf the head is represented by one of the members as being in a chronic\nstate of uncertainty, so are the members themselves represented by\nanother. In the _Church Review_ (Anglican) for Sept. 18, 1875, is an\narticle entitled \u201cOld-Catholic Prospects,\u201d the greater part of which\nconsists of one of the most abusive and malignant attacks against the\nCatholic Church, and in an especial manner against the Jesuits, that\nit has ever been our lot to come upon, even in the journal in which it\nappears. After informing his readers that \u201cJesuitism has led the Pope\ninto the egregious heresy of proclaiming his own infallibility,\u201d and\nthat \u201cthe Spirit of Christ, who would not rest in the Vatican Council,\nwhere all was confusion, restraint, and secrecy, (!) has brooded over\nthe humble (?) Conference of trusting hearts\u201d at Bonn, etc., etc., this\nperson, with a sudden sobriety, ventures on a closer inspection of the\nfavored sect for which he had just profanely claimed the guidance of the\nEternal Spirit, while denying it to the \u0153cumenical council where the\nwhole episcopate of the Catholic Church was assembled with its head, the\nVicar of Christ.\n\nThis writer perceives that, \u201con the other hand, there are dangers in\nthe future. At present,\u201d he says, \u201cthe Old-Catholic body is kept in\norder by two master minds--Dr. D\u00f6llinger and Prof. Schulte. There are\ninnumerable elements of discord\u201d (he adds) \u201cmanifest enough, but they\nare as yet subdued by reverence for Dr. D\u00f6llinger, and beat down by the\nsledge-hammer will of the lay professor. If either of these pilots were\nremoved, it is impossible to say into how many fragments Old Catholicism\nmight split. Its bishop has no means of control over minds, as have\nSchulte and D\u00f6llinger. Michaelis is simply abusive and violent, ready\nto tear down with hands and teeth, but incompetent to build. Repulsive\nin personal appearance, his work is that of detraction, denunciation,\nand destruction. To human eyes the movement is no movement at all; _it\ncontains in itself no authority_ to hold its members personally in check;\nand yet, in spite of every disadvantage, the Old-Catholic society is the\nexpression of true feeling,\u201d etc., etc.\n\nBut we have dwelt long enough on this picture; let us in conclusion turn\nto a very different one. \u201cRome accepts no compromise; she dictates laws,\u201d\nsays M. Henri Vignaud,[209] contrasting her in no friendly spirit with\nthe sect we have been contemplating, but yet in a spirit of calmness and\ncandor.\n\nAnd this, which he intends as a reproach, is in reality a commendation.\nIt is the true church _only_ which _can_ accept no compromise when the\ntruth is in question, of which she is the faithful depository; and\nwhatever laws she dictates are to guard the truth, dogmatic or moral,\nissued in God\u2019s name and with his authority.\n\nM. Vignaud acknowledges this in the following remarkable manner: \u201cThat\ncannot be conciliated which is by nature irreconcilable. There can be no\ncompromise with faith.\u2026 Either man forges to himself the truths which\nmust illuminate his path, or he receives them from the Deity, in which\ncase he must submit to accept the dogma of infallibility; for without\nthis the whole theory falls. It is for this reason that the apostolic\nRoman Catholicity is so strong. Subordinating reason to faith, it\ndoes not carry within it the germ of any scepticism. There can be no\ntransacting with it, and whoever goes out of it enters, whether he is\naware of the fact or not, into rationalism, of which the logical outcome\nis the elimination of the divine action in human affairs.\u201d[210]\n\nIt would be scarcely possible to show more clearly that there are but\ntwo logical positions in the world of intelligences--namely, Catholicity\nand scepticism, or, as it is called in the present day, positivism. The\nnext step after refusing God all action in human affairs is to refuse him\nexistence.\n\nThe Conference at Bonn, however little it may have done in other\nrespects, has already produced one result which was far from the\nintention of its promoters. It has furnished an additional proof that\nthere is one church only which is capable of resisting the invasion of\nscepticism and unbelief, and that this church is the Catholic and Roman.\n\n\u201c_Either Jesus Christ never organized a church, or the Catholic is the\nchurch which he organized._\u201d[211]\n\n\nMIDNIGHT MASS IN A CONVENT.\n\nI have lately been reading some remarks on the curious association\nexisting between certain tastes and odors and an involuntary exertion of\nthe memory by which the recurrence of those tastes or odors recalls, with\na vividness not otherwise to be obtained, a whole series of incidents\nof past life--incidents which, with their surrounding scenes, would\notherwise be quite forgotten and buried out of sight by the successive\noverlaying of other events of greater interest or importance. Montaigne\nhas some singular illustrations of this peculiar fact of consciousness,\nand there is a brief reference to the subject made in some recently\nrepublished recollections of William Hazlitt. Connected with this is the\npowerful influence known to be exercised in many well-authenticated cases\nupon the nervous sensibilities by the exhalation of particular perfumes\nor the scent of certain kinds of flowers harmless or agreeable to all\nother persons. There is a reciprocal motion of the mind which has also\nbeen noted, by which a particular train of thought recalls a certain\ntaste or smell almost as if one received the impression from the existing\naction of the senses. An illustration is given in the discussion just\nnoted, where a special association of ideas is stated to have brought\nback to the writer, with great vividness, the \u201csmell of a baker\u2019s shop\nin Bassorah.\u201d Individual experiences could doubtless be accumulated to\nshow that this mysterious short-hand mind-writing, so to term it, by\nmeans of which the memory records on its tablets, by the aid of a single\nsign imprinted upon a particular sense, the history of a long series of\nassociated recollections, is not confined to the senses of taste and\nsmell alone, but makes use of all.\n\nThe recollection of one of the happiest days of my life--a day of\nstrong excitement and vivid pleasure, but not carried to the pitch of\nsatiety--is inseparably associated with the warm, aromatic smell of a\ncigar which I lighted and puffed, walking alone down a country road.\nIn this case the train of thought is followed by the impression on the\nsense. But in another instance within my experience the reciprocal action\nof thought and sense is reversed; the sight of a particular object in\nthis latter case invariably bringing back to my mind, with amazing\ndistinctness, a scene of altogether dissimilar import, lying far back in\nthe memory. The circumstances are these:\n\n\u2019Tis now some years since I visited the seaport town of Shippington. It\nis, or was, one of those sleepy provincial cities which still retain\nan ante-Revolutionary odor about its dock-yard and ordnance wharves. A\ngroup of ragged urchins or a ruby-nosed man in greasy and much-frayed\nvelveteen jacket might be seen any sunny morning diligently fishing for\nhours off the end of one of its deserted piers for a stray bite from a\nperch or a flounder. The arrival of the spring clipper-ship from Glasgow,\nbringing a renewal of stock for the iron merchants, or of a brig with\nfruit from the Mediterranean, used to set the whole wharf population\nastir. Great changes have taken place of late years. Railroads have been\nbuilt. Instead of a single line of ocean steamships, whose fortnightly\narrival was the event of the day, half a dozen foreign and domestic lines\nkeep the port busy. Fashion, which was once very exclusive and confined\nto a few old families, has now asserted its sway over wider ranks,\nand the officers of her majesty\u2019s gallant Onety-Oneth, and the heavy\nswells of Shippington society whose figures adorn the broad steps of the\nShippington Club-House, have now the pleasure of criticising any fine\nmorning a (thin) galaxy of female beauty and fashion sweeping by them,\nwhose _modes_ rival those of Beacon Street or Murray Hill.\n\nBut at the time of which I write--when I was a school-boy, a quarter of\na century ago--it had not been much stirred by the march of these modern\nimprovements. Her Britannic majesty was then young to the throne, and a\ngreat fervor of loyalty prevailed; and when the Royal Welsh Fusileers\nused to march down to the parade-ground for morning drill, with the\nmartial drum-major and its great bearded Billy-Goat, presented by the\nqueen, dividing the honors of the head of the regiment, it would be\nhard to exaggerate the enthusiasm that swelled the bosoms of the small\nboys and African damsels who stepped proudly along with the band. Those\nwere grand days, _quorum pars magna fui_, when I too marched down the\nhill from the citadel, with a mind divided between awe and admiration\nof the drum-major--curling his mustache fiercely and twirling his staff\nwith an air of majesty--and a latent terror of the bearded pet of the\nregiment, whom report declared to have destroyed three or four boys in\nMalta. But rare indeed were those holidays, for I was impounded most\nof the time in a college, where the study of the Latin _Delectus_ gave\nlittle opportunity for the pursuit of those more attractive branches\nof a liberal education. About half a dozen of the boys, of whom I was\none, were proficients at serving Mass. It was therefore with great joy\nat the distinction that we found ourselves named, one frosty Christmas\nEve, to accompany Father W---- to the Convent of the Sacred Heart, about\na mile distant, where he was to celebrate midnight Mass. Oh! how the\nsnow crisped and rattled under our feet as we marched along, full of\nimportance, after Father W----, each boy with his green bag, containing\nhis surplice and _soutane_, swung over his arm! What a jolly night it\nwas; and how the stars twinkled! We slapped our hands together, protected\nby our thick blue mitts, and stamped our feet like soldiers on the march\nto Moscow. It was after ten o\u2019clock, and the streets were dark and\nnearly deserted. To us, long used to be sound asleep at that hour in\nour warm dormitory, each boy in his own little four-poster, with the\nmoonlight streaming in through the windows on its white counterpane--and\nnot daring, if we were awake, so much as to whisper to the boy next to\nus, under pain of condign punishment in the morning--there was something\nmysterious and almost ghostly in this midnight adventure. As we passed\nthe guard-house near the general\u2019s residence, the officer of the night,\nmuffled in his cloak, came along on the \u201cgrand rounds.\u201d The sentry, in\nhis tall bear-skin hat, stops suddenly short in his walk.\n\n\u201cWho goes there?\u201d he calls out in a loud, fierce voice, bringing down his\nbayonet to the charge.\n\nWe clung closer to Father W----\u2019s skirts. \u201cRounds,\u201d replies the officer\nin a voice of command, his sword rattling on the ground, iron-hard with\nthe frost. \u201cWhat rounds?\u201d \u201cGrand rounds!\u201d \u201cAdvance, grand rounds, and\ngive the countersign!\u201d Then the sergeant of the guard, the alarm being\ngiven, rushes out into the street with his men, all with bayonets drawn\nand looking terrible in the moonlight. They form in line, and the officer\nadvances. A whispered conversation takes place; the soldiers present arms\nand march back into the warm guard-house; and the officer passes silently\non to the next guard.\n\nWhile this scene was going on we stood half terrified and fascinated,\nhardly knowing whether to take to our heels or not. But the calm voice\nof Father W----, as he answered \u201cA friend\u201d to the sentry\u2019s challenge,\nreassured us. Soon we reached the convent gate, and, entering the\ngrounds, which were open for the occasion, found the convent all ablaze\nwith lights. The parents and friends of the young lady pupils were\npermitted to attend the midnight Christmas Mass. The convent, and convent\nchapel which communicated with it, stood in the midst of winding walks\nand lawns very pretty in the summer; but the tall trees, now stripped of\ntheir leaves, swung their bare branches in the wind with a melancholy\nrecollection of their faded beauty. Groups, in twos and threes, walked\nsilently up the paths, muffled in cloaks and shawls, and disappeared\nwithin the chapel. We were received by the lady-superior, Mme. P----,\nwhose kind voice and refined and gentle manners were sadly maligned\nby a formidable Roman nose, that struck our youthful minds with awe.\nWhat unprincipled whims does Nature sometimes take thus to impress\nupon the countenance the appearance of a character so alien to our\ntrue disposition! Nor is it less true that a beautiful face and a form\nthat Heaven has endowed with all the charms of grace and fascinating\nbeauty may hide a soul rank with vice and malice. The Becky Sharpes of\nthe world are not all as ferret-featured as Thackeray\u2019s heroine, whom,\nnevertheless, with much truth to art, he represents as attractive and\nalluring in her prime. But dear Mme. P----\u2019s Roman nose was not, I have\nreason to believe, without its advantages; the fortuitous severity of\nits cast helping to maintain a degree of discipline among her young lady\nboarders, which a tendency to what Mr. Tennyson calls \u201cthe least little\ndelicate curve\u201d (_vulgo_, a pug), or even a purely classical Grecian,\nmight have failed to inspire. Forgive me the treason if I venture even\nto hint that those young ladies in white and blue who floated in and out\nof Mme. P----\u2019s parlors on reception-days, like angels cut out from the\ncanvas on the walls, were ever less demure than their prototypes!\n\nWe altar-boys were marshalled into a long, narrow hall running parallel\nwith the chapel. There we busied ourselves in putting on our red\n_soutanes_ and white surplices, and preparing the altar for Mass. But\nwe had a long time to wait, and while we stood there in whispering\nsilence, and the chapel slowly filled, suddenly appeared Mme. P----\nwith a lay sister, carrying six little china plates full of red and\nwhite sugar-plums, and some cakes not bigger than a mouthful, to beguile\nour tedium. To this day the sight of one of those small plates, filled\nwith that kind of sugar-plums, brings back to my mind with wonderful\nminuteness all the scenes I have described and those that followed. The\nlong walk through the snow, the guard-house, the convent grounds, the\nfigures of Mme. P---- and her lay sister advancing towards us, rise\nbefore me undimmed by time; and even now as I write the flavor of the\nsugared cassia-buds seems to be in my mouth, though it is over twenty\nyears ago since I cracked them between my teeth with a school-boy\u2019s\nrelish for sweetmeats.\n\nThe feeling of distant respect engendered by the sight of Mme. P----\u2019s\nnose gave way all at once to a profound sympathy and admiration for that\nestimable lady, as she handed us those dainties. Yet, as they disappeared\nbefore our juvenile appetites, sharpened by the frost, we could not help\nfeeling all a boy\u2019s contempt for the girls that could be satisfied with\nsuch stuff, instead of a good, solid piece of gingerbread that a fellow\ncould get two or three bites at! We had no doubt that the convent girls\nhad a _cong\u00e9_ that day, and that this was a part of the feast that had\nbeen provided for them.\n\nWe marched gravely into the sanctuary before Father W----, and took our\nplaces around the altar-steps while he ascended the altar. A deeper hush\nseemed to fall on the congregation kneeling with heads bowed down before\nthe Saviour born on that blessed morning. The lights on the altar burned\nwith a mystical halo at the midnight hour. The roses around the Crib of\nthe infant Redeemer bloomed brighter than June. We heaped the incense\ninto the burning censer, and the smoke rushed up in a cloud, and the\nodorous sweetness filled the air. Then along the vaulted roof of the\nchapel stole the first notes of the organ, now rising, now falling; and\nthe murmuring voice of the priest was heard reading the Missal. Did my\nheart stand still when a boy--or is it touched by a memory later?--as,\nbirdlike, the pure tones of the soprano rose, filling the church, and\nthrilling the whole congregation? Marvellous magic of music! Can we\nwonder to see an Arion borne by dolphins over the waves, and stilling\nthe winds with his lyre? Poor Mme. L----! She had a voice of astonishing\nbrilliancy and power. Her upper notes I have never heard excelled in\nflute-like clearness and sustained roundness of tone. When I heard her\nyears later, with a more experienced ear, her voice, though a good deal\nworn, was still one to be singled out wherever it might be heard. She is\nsince dead. She was a French lady of good family. Her voice had the tone\nof an exile. She sang the _Adeste fideles_ on that Christmas morning with\na soul-stirring pathos that impressed me so much as a boy that the same\nhymn, sung by celebrated singers and more pretentious choirs, has always\nappeared to me tame.\n\nIt would not serve my present purpose to pursue these recollections\nfarther. Enough has been said to show how quickly the mind grasps at some\none prominent point affected by sense, to group around it a tableau of\nassociated recollections. That little china tea-plate with its blue and\ngilt edge, heaped over with sugar-plums, brings back to me scenes that\nseem to belong to another age, so radical is the change which time makes\nin the fortunes and even emotions of men.\n\nWhen the lights were all out in the chapel, except those that burned\naround the Crib, and the congregation had silently departed, we wended\nour way back to the college with Father W---- in the chill morning air\nmore slowly than when we started; sleepy, but our courage still unabated\nby reason of the great things we had shared in, and the still greater\nthings separated from us by only one more, fast-coming dawn. We slept\nlike tops all the morning, being excused from six o\u2019clock Mass on account\nof our midnight excursion. When we joined the home circle on Christmas\nmorning, you may be assured we had plenty to talk about. Nor was it until\nafter dinner, and all the walnuts had been cracked, and our new pair of\nskates--our most prized Christmas gift--tried on and admired, that the\nrecollection of our first Christmas Mass began to fade from our minds.\nPure hearts and innocent joys of youth! How smooth the stream--_nescius\naur\u00e6 fallacis_--on which it sails its tiny craft! How rough the sea it\ndrifts into!\n\n\nS. LOUIS\u2019 BELL.[212]\n\n          S. Louis\u2019 bell!\n          How grandly swell\n          Its matin chime,\n          Its noonday peal,\n          Its vesper rhyme!\n    How deeply in my heart I feel\n    Their solemn cadence; they to me\n    Waft hymns of precious melody.\n\n          S. Louis\u2019 bell!\n          What memories dwell\n          Enshrined among\n          Each lingering note\n          And tuneful tongue!\n\n    As on the quivering air they float,\n    Those sweet vibrations o\u2019er and o\u2019er\n    Bear tidings from a far-off shore.\n          S. Louis\u2019 bell!\n          What clouds dispel,\n          What doubts and fears\n          Dissolve away,\n          What sorrowing tears,\n    Like mists before the rising day!\n    While on the waiting, listening air\n    Rings out S. Louis\u2019 call to prayer.\n\n          S. Louis\u2019 bell!\n          Ring on and tell\n          In matin chime,\n          And noonday peal,\n          And vesper rhyme,\n    And let thy joyful notes reveal\n    The story loved of mortals best--\n    Of Holy Child on Virgin\u2019s breast,\n    While herald angels from above\n    Sang anthems of eternal love!\n\n          S. Louis\u2019 bell!\n          When earth\u2019s farewell\n    Upon my parting lips shall dwell,\n          And when I rise\n          On angel wing\n    To seek the gates of Paradise,\n    And stand before the Heavenly King,\n    Though in that realm of perfect peace\n    All other earthly sounds should cease,\n          Methinks \u2019twould be\n          A joy to me\n          Once more to hear,\n          With bended ear,\n    The music loved on earth so well--\n    The echoes of S. Louis\u2019 bell!\n\n\nFROM CAIRO TO JERUSALEM.\n\nSeated in the spacious hall of the new hotel in Cairo, we discussed a\ntour through the Holy Land. We had quitted our comfortable and home-like\n_dahab\u00e9eah_, wherein we had lived for nearly four months upon the waters\nof the historical Nile. A sad farewell had been said to our trusty\nsailors, and even those of them who had lingered around the hotel for\ndays after our arrival, to kiss our hands as we came out, had now taken\ntheir departure. Old Abiad, our funny man, had for once worn a sober look\nas he bade us God-speed on our homeward voyage. Said--the indefatigable,\nhard-working, muscular Said, ever ready for the hardest work, and ever\nforemost in action--had left us with tearful eyes, and had started on his\nupward voyage to Keneh, to marry the young Moslem maiden to whom he had\npledged his troth some few months before.\n\nYes, the Nile trip was really over, but on the tablets of memory was\npainted a most bright and beautiful picture, which time alone could\nefface. Still another separation: one of our party, having been in the\nHoly Land the previous year, was about to remain in Egypt, while the rest\nof us visited Syria. Father H----, Mme. D----, and the writer made the\ntravelling party. The plans were soon settled, and a day was appointed\nupon which we should depart from Cairo to meet the Russian steamer which\nwas advertised to leave Alexandria on Monday, April the 13th, A.D. 1874.\nOne of the greatest difficulties in travelling in the East is to obtain\naccurate information concerning the arrival and departure of steamers\nand trains. When inquiring what time the train would leave Cairo for\nRhoda, the terminus of the railway along the Nile, I was informed that\nit would leave somewhere about seven o\u2019clock in the morning, and would\nreach Rhoda between six and eight in the evening; this was the most\naccurate information I could possibly obtain. In point of fact, the\ntrain left Cairo at nine A.M., and reached Rhoda at half-past ten at\nnight. On Monday morning, April 13, there was a general clearing out of\ntravellers from the hotel. At nine A.M.--and, for a wonder, punctual to\nthe minute--we left the station at Cairo on the train going to Ismail\u00efa.\nWe passed through some of the richest country of the Delta, teeming with\nlife and activity. The _Sag\u00e9ars_, or Persian water-wheels, were sending\ntheir streams of life-giving water through the numberless little canals\non every hand. Here a line of laden camels march along with stately step.\nThere a family--father, mother, and son--accompanied by the omnipresent\ndonkey, called to mind the flight of the Holy Family into Egypt. And well\nthey may; for here we are in the land of Goshen, at Rameses, the home of\nthe Israelites, the starting-point of their long, dreary wanderings. Now\nthe railroad marks the line between the cultivated land and the sandy\nplains of the desert; on one side rich vegetation, nurtured by the\nfresh-water canal, on the other, sandy hillocks stretching away to the\nline of the horizon; and in a few moments we see the deep, rich blue of\nthe water of Lake Timsah, contrasting most strikingly with the golden\nsand of its desert bank. Ismail\u00efa! Ere the train has stopped we are\nsurrounded by a crowd of Arabs thirsting for their spoil. A score of them\npounce upon our baggage. After considerable shouting and threatening, we\ncompromise, and a truce is proclaimed. We engaged two of them to carry\nour baggage to the steamer on the lake. O porters of the United States!\nhow you would blush and hang your heads in shame to see these Arabs\nhandle baggage. In my childish and untravelled simplicity I thought it\nmost wonderful to see you lift those heavy boarding-houses, miscalled\ntrunks, and carry them to the fourth story of a hotel. But hereafter,\nfor porters, commend me to the Arabs. We had four or five heavy valises,\none of them weighing nearly one hundred pounds, and numberless small\nparcels. One of the men hung these valises from his neck, and tying the\nsmaller parcels in among them, as though by way of ornament, started\noff, followed by his brother porter, with our only trunk, a large and\nvery heavy one, strapped on his back. They walked at a brisk pace to the\nboat, about one mile distant, and did not seem in the least fatigued when\nthey arrived there. As we started to walk down the long avenue leading\nto the lake, we were beset as usual by the importunities of three or\nfour donkey-boys, each one recounting the praises of his own animal,\nand speaking disparagingly of the others, yet all in the best possible\nhumor. Running here and there, dragging after them the patient donkey,\nthey cried out: \u201cHim good donkey, sah; look him. Oder donkey no good; him\nback break. Him exquisite donkey, sah! Him Yankee Doodle!\u201d Suddenly, in a\nfit of indignation, I turned upon them and howled at the top of my voice:\n\n\u201cEmpshy Ya Kelb\u201d (\u201cGet out, O dog!\u201d), when, with a roar of laughter,\none little imp jumped in front of me, and exclaimed: \u201cOh! Howadji can\nspeak Arabic. Him good Arab donkey. Take him, sah; him speak Arabic.\u201d\nNotwithstanding this great inducement, I did not take him.\n\nLike Aladdin\u2019s palace, Ismail\u00efa has sprung up almost in a single night.\nIn 1860 the site of the present town was a barren waste of sand; but\nwhen the fresh-water canal was completed to this place, and the magic\nwaters of the Nile were let loose upon it, the golden sands of the desert\ngave place to the rich verdure of vegetation; gardens, filled with the\nchoicest fruits and flowers, sprang up on every hand. Indeed, it seems\nbut necessary to pour the waters of the Nile on the desert to produce\na soil which will grow anything to perfection. Here we see the pretty\nlittle Swiss _ch\u00e2let_ of M. de Lesseps, and a short distance beyond\nthe palace of the viceroy, built in a few months, for the purpose of\nentertaining his illustrious guest at the opening of the Suez Canal.\n\nWhat singular fellows these Arabs are! Our two porters demand three\nrupees (a rupee is worth about fifty cents) for their services. I quietly\ntake one rupee from my pocket and offer it to them. Indignantly they\nreject it; and if I will not give them what they ask, they will accept\nnothing at all; and with loud words and angry gestures they shout and\ngesticulate most vehemently, complaining of the insignificant pittance\nI offer them for the hard work they have just gone through. I repocket\nthe rupee, and proceed very leisurely to arrange our places on the\nlittle postal boat, which is to leave in about an hour. Having purchased\ntickets, and seen that everything was properly arranged, I again return\nto the attack, as I am now upon the offensive, and offer them the\nrupee. No, they will not have it; but now they will accept two rupees.\nWell, it being the rule of Eastern negotiations that as one party comes\ndown the other should go up, like a balance, I increase the rupee by a\nfranc, and after much talking they agree to accept it. But now what a\nchange comes over them! Finding that they have extracted from me all\nthat they possibly can, their whole manner changes, and they become as\npolite and affable as you please. They thank me, proffer their services\nto do anything for me that I may wish, kiss their hands in respectful\nsalutation, and are off.\n\nOur steamer is somewhat larger than a man-of-war\u2019s boat, and our little\ncompany is soon assembled in the cabin. Besides ourselves, there are,\nfirst, a voluble young Russian who came with us from Cairo, and who\nprecipitates himself most desperately into the strongest friendships\nthat the time will allow with every one he meets, telling you all about\nhimself and his family, and then finding out as much as he can about\nyou and yours; next, a stolid Saxon, Prussian vice-consul at Cairo, a\nvery pleasant and intelligent young man; and, lastly, a quiet, retiring\nyoung Italian lady, who, unable to speak any language besides her own,\ncannot join in the general conversation, which is carried on principally\nin French. At six o\u2019clock we left the landing-place at Ismail\u00efa, and,\npassing out the northeast corner of Lake Timsah, we entered the narrow\ncutting of El Guisr. The surface of these heights is the highest point in\nthe Isthmus of Suez, being from sixty to sixty-five feet above the level\nof the sea. In cutting the canal through this part they were obliged to\ndig down some ninety feet, in order to give the canal its proper depth\nbelow the sea level. Just after we entered this cutting, the strong north\nwind which was blowing at the time caught madame\u2019s parasol, whirled it\nout of her hand, blew it overboard, and the last we saw of it it was\nfloating placidly along toward Suez. One sees here how perceptibly the\nsand is filling up the hard-won trench, and the dredging-machines are\nkept in constant operation to keep the channel clear. At dusk we passed a\nlarge English steamer tied up for the night--as large steamers are never\nallowed to travel in the canal after dark.\n\nWe soon entered Lake Menzaleh, and continued through it some twenty-seven\nmiles to Port Said. Fifteen years ago a belt of sand, from six to nine\nhundred feet in width, occupied the place where Port Said now stands.\nHere in April, 1859, M. de Lesseps, surrounded by a handful of Europeans\nand a score of native workmen, gave the first blow of the spade to that\ngreat channel of communication between the East and the West. Soon the\nground for the future town was made, houses erected, gardens laid out,\nand to-day Port Said is a town of nearly ten thousand inhabitants, with\nstreets, squares, gardens, docks, quays, mosques, churches, and a very\nsafe and easily-approached harbor. The name Port Said was given to it in\nhonor of the then viceroy, Said Pasha. The next morning, when I went to\nthe office to purchase tickets, I was informed, by the not over-polite\nclerk in the Russian Steamship Co.\u2019s office, that notwithstanding it was\nadvertised that the steamer would leave Alexandria on Monday, it would\nnot leave until Tuesday, and consequently would not leave Port Said\nuntil Wednesday afternoon--another illustration of the uncertainty of\ntravelling information in the East. In the afternoon I determined to go\ndown to the lake and endeavor to shoot some flamingoes or pelicans, both\nof which abound here in great numbers. Leaving the town, I started to\ncross the wide, level plain which separated it, as I supposed, from the\nlake. Some distance ahead I saw numerous birds disporting themselves amid\nthe glistening and sparkling waters of the lake. After walking for nearly\nan hour, I reached the spot, but no lake was there, and turning around, I\nsaw it at the point from which I had started. Somewhat confused, I turned\ntowards the sea, and there I saw, high up in the air, a sand-bank with\nwomen walking upon it, and a little further on two gigantic figures like\nlight-houses moving toward me in the air. In a moment the truth flashed\nupon me--it was a mirage; and retracing my steps to the town, I found\nthat the lake was in a different direction from the one I had taken. The\nnext day we went on board the steamer, which arrived from Alexandria\nabout ten in the morning. There is considerable excitement on board, and\na number of smart-looking boats with trim crews rapidly approaching\nus announce the arrival of M. de Lesseps with his wife and her two\nnieces, _en route_ for a pilgrimage to the Holy Land. M. de Lesseps is\na man of medium height, rather stout, and with a very good-natured and\njovial-looking countenance. He wears a heavy gray mustache, and his\nhair is silvery white. His appearance is that of a man of great energy\nand determination, and one to project and carry through the colossal\nwork he has so successfully executed. The ship was very much crowded,\nor perhaps it would be more correct to say that the accommodations were\nvery limited, as we did not have more than fifty first-class passengers\non board, and yet there were not sufficient accommodations for them in\nthe first cabin. Father H---- and I, together with a young Austrian with\nwhom we had become acquainted at Port Said, were obliged to sleep in\na second-class cabin. We were told that they would so arrange it that\nwe could eat in the first saloon, and at dinner-time we found a small\nwork-table set for four of us to eat from. However, it was quite large\nenough for me; for I had not been seated many minutes before I felt an\nunaccountable desire to go on deck and inhale the fresh air.\n\nHaving done so, I retired for the night. Bright and early the next\nmorning I was upon deck, but I found Father H---- there before me.\nMadame, having a very comfortable room in the first cabin, had not\nyet risen. The sea was still and calm as a pond, and, turning my face\ntoward the east, I beheld for the first time the mountain ranges of\nJud\u00e6a. Yea, there before me was Jud\u00e6a, the land promised and given to\nthe seed of Abraham. There, among those hills, Samson had performed his\nexploits of power. There the royal David and the wise Solomon had lived\nand reigned. Ay, and there One greater than them all, the Man-God, was\nborn, lived, and laid down his life for the salvation of mankind. And\nwas it really true that I, an inquisitive Yankee of the XIXth century,\nwas soon to tread those sacred spots, hallowed with reminiscences so\ndear to the heart of every Christian? I could scarce believe it. Was I\nnot in a dream, and would I not soon awake to find it all a beautiful\nbut fleeting vision? No, it was true, and it was made most painfully\napparent by the harsh clangor of the Arab boatmen, and their frantic\nendeavors to take possession of us, as our ship dropped anchor off the\ntown of Jaffa. There is no harbor of any kind here, and when the sea is\ncalm the steamers anchor about one mile from the shore, and passengers\nand their baggage are landed in small boats. Immediately in front of the\ntown, and but a short distance from it, a series of partially-covered\nrocks forms a wall, broken only by two channels or gateways, one about\nten feet in width, and the other a little wider. Through these the sea\ndashes with tremendous fury, and as the little boat approaches it is\ncaught upon the summit of some breaker, and dashed through the opening\ninto the quiet haven behind. When it is stormy, the steamers do not stop\nhere at all, but land their passengers a short distance farther up the\ncoast. The bright, genial face of Father Guido (president of the Casa\nNuova) soon welcomed us to Palestine. He had come down from Jerusalem to\nmeet M. de Lesseps, and to offer him the hospitality of their convent,\nwhich was thankfully accepted. We soon disembarked and entered a small\nboat, accompanied by our trusty dragoman, Ali Aboo Suleyman, who had\ntravelled with one of our party the previous year, and whom I believe\nto be one of the best dragomans in the East. Our boat, propelled by the\nstrong arms of a half-score of powerful Arabs, soon brought us alongside\nof the town. Passing through a narrow gateway, and giving a substantial\nand material wink to the revenue official, we, with our baggage, were\nsoon deposited at the door of the Latin convent. After greeting the kind\nand hospitable fathers, and arranging terms with Ali, we started out\nfor a short walk. Traversing the narrow, tortuous streets and filthy\nalleys, jostled by camels, horses, donkeys, and preceded by Achmud,\nAli\u2019s youngest son--a lad of fourteen years, who, with a pompous and\nauthoritative air, pushed aside old men and young, women and children,\nand would have done the same with the camels had he been able, to make\nroom for the Howadji--we reached the spot where stood in former days the\nhouse of Simon the tanner. Here the Apostle Peter resided many days,\nand here he saw the vision of the clean and unclean beasts, wherein\nthe voice commanded him saying: \u201cArise, Peter, kill and eat.\u201d A small\nmosque now occupies the site of the house. The streets were thronged\nwith Russian pilgrims returning from their Easter pilgrimage to the Holy\nCity. Many of them will leave in the afternoon on the steamer which\nhas brought us from Egypt, and in a few short days will be at Odessa,\nwhence the railway will carry them to St. Petersburg. About three in the\nafternoon, accompanied by an Irish priest who had lived in Malta for\nseveral years, we mounted our horses and started for Jerusalem. We had\nbeen most hospitably entertained by the kind fathers at the convent; a\nlarge room and an excellent breakfast had been provided for us, but no\nremuneration asked. We, of course, made a donation, which was thankfully\nreceived. We rode through the narrow streets, passed out the gate, and\nin a few moments were among the world-famous orange-groves of Jaffa. The\nsky was cloudless, the weather like a beautiful May day at home, and\nthe air heavy with the delicious fragrance of the oranges. We rode for\nnearly a mile through these beautiful groves. Meanwhile, Ali provided\nhimself with numbers of these large oranges, and soon for the first time\nI tasted an orange that I really enjoyed. Just plucked from the tree,\nwith skin half an inch in thickness, and without seeds, this luscious\nfruit seems almost to dissolve in the mouth like ice-cream. Ali owns a\nlarge grove, from which he gathers about one hundred and fifty thousand\noranges per annum. These he sells in large quantities at the rate of two\npounds sterling per thousand, yielding him a very nice income, as the\nexpense of taking care of them is very small. Now we are riding along\nthe level plain which separates the Jud\u00e6an hills from the bright blue\nwaters of the Mediterranean, and a little after six o\u2019clock we drew rein\nat the Latin convent in Ramleh. It is almost useless for me to speak of\nthe kindness and hospitality of these good Franciscan fathers of the Holy\nLand, as it is known throughout the world, and abler pens than mine have\nendeavored, but in vain, to praise them as they deserve. Unselfish,\nkind, burying self completely in the great work they have undertaken,\nthey have given up their homes, families, and all that was dear to them,\nto live a monastic life among these sacred spots, to guard these holy\nplaces, and, like ministering angels, to assist pilgrims from every\nclime and of every Christian race and nationality. Clad in the humble\ngarb of their order, they go quietly and unostentatiously through life,\nsacrificing themselves at every turn for the benefit and comfort of\nothers. They have stood through centuries, a devoted band of chivalrous\nknights guarding the spots rendered sacred by the presence of their God.\nMay he in his goodness reward them by permitting them to stand as a noble\nguard of honor around his celestial throne in the heavenly hereafter!\nAfter a comfortable night\u2019s rest and a good breakfast, we started at six\no\u2019clock, in order to avoid the intense heat of midday. M. de Lesseps and\nparty had preceded us by nearly two hours. As we rode out the convent\ngate, numbers of lepers, with shrunken limbs and distorted countenances,\nclamored piteously for alms. We dropped some small coins into their tin\nboxes, which they carry so that there may be no possibility of contact\nwith the compassionate passer-by who may bestow alms upon them. We\nrode for some time across a level plain, and near ten o\u2019clock reached\nBab-el-Wady (Gate of the Valley), at the foot of the mountain range. Here\nwe found a very comfortable house, which has been erected for the sake of\naffording accommodation to pilgrims. We lunched here, took a short nap,\nand started on our way about two in the afternoon. The whole distance\nfrom Jaffa to Jerusalem is not over thirty-six miles; but fast riding is\nnot practicable on account of the baggage, which is transported on mules\nat a very slow pace; consequently, it generally requires two days to\nmake the trip, whereas a moderately fast horse could easily accomplish\nthe journey in seven or eight hours. We now enter Wady Ali. One could\nscarcely imagine a more suitable place for lurking bandits to conceal\nthemselves in than among the thick undergrowth here. Their musket-barrels\nmight almost touch their unconscious victim\u2019s breast, without being\nvisible, and many a tale has been told and retold around the Howadji\u2019s\ncamp-fire of their exploits of robbery and murder in this place. But now,\nthanks to the strict though tardy vigilance of the sultan, the pass is\nfree from danger.\n\nWhat feelings of emotion now fill my breast! The dreams of my childhood\nare being realized--I am in the Holy Land! Reaching the summit of one of\nthe ridges, a beautiful panorama is spread out before us. At our feet\nlies the valley of Sharon, dressed in the richest green, and ornamented\nwith the bright, beautiful wild flowers of early spring; beyond lies the\nplain of Ramleh, and in the distance, like a silver frame, sparkles and\nglistens the bright waters of the Mediterranean. Anon we see beneath\nus the beautiful valley of Beit Hanina, and Ali, laying one hand on my\nshoulder, points to a little village nestled amid the olive-groves in\nthe valley. Yes, that is Ain-Karim, the place of the Visitation of the\nBlessed Virgin--the spot where was born the \u201cgreatest of men.\u201d We check\nour horses but for a moment; we have no eyes for that now. Every gaze is\nfixed upon that small yellow house upon the top of the opposite hill;\nfor has not Ali told us that from that point we shall see the Eternal\nCity? Riding rapidly down the mountain-side, we do not even stop as we\ncross the brook--where David gathered the pebbles with which he slew his\ngigantic adversary--and push rapidly up the opposite mountain. Father\nH---- and I are in advance, while madame rides behind with the Irish\npriest. The shades of evening are now falling, and I fear lest night\nmay come on before we reach the city. Scarce a word is spoken; my heart\nbeats with excitement, such as it has never known before, and seems as\nthough it would break through its prison-house, so eager, so anxious, is\nit to move quickly on. Unable to restrain my impatience, I give my horse\na blow with my riding-whip, and he starts on a full run. Father H----\ncalls me back. We have travelled so long and shared so many pleasures\ntogether, let us together share the great pleasure of the first sight of\nJerusalem. I rein in my horse, and ride by his side. Now the top of the\nhill is reached, and it is yet light; but we have mistaken the house--it\nis another one still farther on. It is now twilight. We speak not a word,\nbut, bent forward, we scan the horizon with piercing eyes, as though we\nwould penetrate the mountains themselves, so eager are we to see the\ncity. I hail a passing boy: \u201cFin el Kuds?\u201d (\u201cWhere is Jerusalem?\u201d),\nbut with a stupid stare he passes on. A few moments more the house is\nreached, and Sion, royal city of David, lies before us! Waiting until the\nrest of the party ride up, we dismount, kneel, kiss the ground, and then\nrecite aloud the psalm _L\u00e6tatus Sum_, a Pater Noster, and an Ave Maria,\nremount, enter the city by the Jaffa gate, ride to our comfortable\nquarters at the Latin Hospice, and _are in Jerusalem_.\n\nAt the convent we were entertained in the most hospitable manner, and\nprovided with the neatest and tidiest of rooms. Early the next morning\nFather H---- and I sallied forth to call on P\u00e8re Ratisbonne. Following\nthe Via Sacra, we stopped before an iron gate a short distance below the\narch Ecce Homo, and little Achmud, picking up a large stone, pounded\nupon it as though he were repaying a grudge which he had cherished\nagainst it for centuries. I ventured to remonstrate, suggesting that they\nmight be displeased at so much noise being made. But he answered very\ncoolly--meanwhile continuing the pounding as if his future happiness\ndepended upon making a hole in the door--that he wanted to inform those\ninside that some visitors wished to call upon them. I said nothing, but\ndoubted seriously whether that would be the impression produced on their\nminds. Had it been in America, and had I been inside, I should have\nimagined that it was an election row, or a fire during the reign of the\nvolunteer fire department. But notwithstanding all this, no one appeared,\nand we moved away disgusted, only to find that we had been at the wrong\nplace, and to be farther informed that P\u00e8re Ratisbonne was in Paris.\n\nWhat shall I say of the sacred spots of Jerusalem, which so many abler\npens than mine have attempted to describe?--vainly endeavoring to portray\nthe inexpressible emotions that crowd the breast of every Christian as he\nkneels before them for the first time! Perhaps I can convey to my readers\nsome idea of the feeling which continually pervaded my whole being. It\nwas as if the curtain of the past had been rolled back, placing me face\nto face with the living actors in that great tragedy of our Redemption\neighteen hundred years ago. What contributed in a great measure to this\nwas that we had lived during the winter in an atmosphere of three or\nfour thousand years ago. We had scarcely esteemed it worth while to look\nat the ruins of the Ptolemys, they seemed so recent after the massive\ntemples of the Rameses and the Ositarsens, and now the beginning of\nthe Christian era appeared but an affair of yesterday. The Adamic and\nMosaic dispensations seemed a little old, \u2019tis true, but the Christian\ndispensation was yet to us in all the glory of its early morn. I felt,\nas I crossed the Kedron and read the Holy Gospels seated beneath the\nolive-trees in the garden of Gethsemane, as if even I had been a personal\nfollower of the Man-God, and in imagination could hear the hosannas of\npraise as he rode past me on the ass on the way from Bethany. Before this\nreligion had seemed to me more like an intellectual idea. Now I felt that\nI knew Him as a friend, and my heart beat earnest acquiescence to Father\nH----\u2019s remark: \u201cComing from Egypt, Christ appears a modern personage;\nand the visit to the sacred places of Palestine adds to the intellectual\nand moral conviction of the truth of Christianity, the feeling and\nstrength of personal friendship with its Author.\u201d\n\nOn Sunday Father H---- celebrated Mass at the altar erected on the spot\nwhere the Blessed Virgin stood during the Crucifixion. The hole in the\nrock wherein the sacred cross was planted belongs to the Greeks, and\nover it they have erected an altar, loaded down, like all their other\naltars, with tawdry finery. On another occasion I had the happiness to\nserve Father H----\u2019s Mass on the spot where our Lord was nailed to the\ncross. But the greatest happiness of all was reserved for the morning\nwe left the Holy City, when madame and I received Holy Communion from\nthe hands of Father H----, who celebrated Mass, which I served, in the\nHoly Sepulchre itself. _Hic Jesus Christus sepultus est._ In that little\ntomb the three of us, who had shared together the pleasures and dangers\nof a long voyage in Egypt and Nubia--here on the very spot where He was\nentombed, we alone, in early morn, received his sacred body and blood,\ngiving fresh life and courage to our souls for our future struggles with\nthe world. How much better, instead of incrusting the sepulchre with\nmarble and gems, to have left it as it was, rude and simple as when the\nMan-God was laid in it! But one sacred spot is left in its primitive\nstate--the grotto of the Agony. A simple altar has been erected in it,\nand a marble tablet let into the wall with this inscription upon it: \u201cHic\nfactus est sudor ejus sicut gutt\u00e6 sanguinis decurrentis in terram.\u201d The\nwalls and roof of the grotto are to-day as they were that terrible night\nwhen they witnessed the sweat as drops of blood rolling down his sacred\nface.\n\nThe limits of this article will not permit me to tell how we wandered\nreverentially along the Via Sacra, or gazed in admiration from Olivet\u2019s\nsummit on Jerusalem the Golden lying at our feet; of our interesting\nvisit to the residence of the Princesse de La Tour d\u2019Auvergne, on the\nspot where the apostles were taught the Lord\u2019s Prayer, which she has\ninscribed on the court-yard walls in every written language. I could\ntell of our visit to the _C\u0153naculum_ to the Temple, the tomb of the\nBlessed Virgin, our walks through the Valley of Jehoshaphat; but these\ndescriptions are so familiar to every Christian that I will content\nmyself with relating more of the personal incidents which befell us than\ngeneral descriptions of what we saw.\n\nFather H---- and I left Jerusalem on Tuesday morning, and, after riding\nseveral hours, camped for the night near the Greek convent of Mars\nSaba. No woman is allowed to enter this convent, and men only with\npermission of the Greek Patriarch of Jerusalem. We visited the tomb of\nS. Saba, model of anchorites, and saw in one room the skulls of fourteen\nthousand of his brethren, most of them massacred by the Bedouins. Rev.\nMr. Chambers, of New York, with two young friends, was encamped near\nus, and we spent a very pleasant evening in their tent. At five o\u2019clock\nthe next morning we were in the saddle, _en route_ for the Dead Sea.\nWe had a Bedouin escort, who was attired in a dilapidated, soiled\nnight-shirt, and was scarcely ever with us, either taking short cuts down\nthe mountain-side--as he was on foot--and getting far in advance of us,\nor lagging equally as far in the rear. Nevertheless, it was a powerful\nescort--had we not paid the sheik of the tribe five dollars for it? and\ndid it not represent the force and power of a mighty tribe of Bedouins?\nIn sober earnest, this hatless, shoeless escort was a real protection;\nfor if we had been attacked while he was with us, his tribe, or the\nsheik of it, would have been forced by the authorities to make good our\nloss, and, moreover, the attacking tribe would have incurred the enmity\nof our escort\u2019s tribe--a very serious thing in this part of the world,\nand among men whose belief is: Whoso sheddeth man\u2019s blood, by man shall\nhis blood be shed. The Bedouins find this way of robbing travellers more\nprofitable than the old-time system of taking their victim\u2019s property\n_vi et armis_, for in the latter instance they are liable to be pursued,\ncaught, and punished; while in the former, by exacting a fee from the\ntraveller and furnishing an escort in return, they make considerable\nmoney without fear of punishment. While riding along toward the Dead Sea,\nI frequently dismounted to shoot partridges, and on remounting I took\nout the cartridges which had not been used, before handing my gun to the\nescort, who carried it for me. On one occasion, when near the Dead Sea,\nI had pursued several partridges, but did not get a shot at them, and\nreturning to my horse, held by the escort, I was about to draw out the\ncartridges when he requested me to let them remain, so that I should not\nhave the trouble of reloading for the next shot. I shook my head with a\nnegative motion, when he replied in an humble tone: \u201cVery well. I am a\nBedouin, and of course you cannot trust me.\u201d And then flashed across my\nmind that terrible curse pronounced upon Ishmael and his descendants:\n\u201cHis hand shall be against every man, and every man\u2019s against him.\u201d\nFeeling sorry for the poor fellow, I looked him straight in the eye, as\nthough expressing my confidence in him, and handed him the loaded gun.\nI was alone with him now, as the rest of the party had ridden on a mile\nor two in advance. But I felt perfectly safe, because he was walking\nahead of me, and, had he meditated treachery, I had my revolver in my\nbelt, and could have killed him before he could raise the gun to shoot.\nHowever, I presume that he simply wanted to play sportsman himself; for\nwhen he returned me the gun, some hours afterwards, both barrels were\nempty. About ten o\u2019clock we reached the barren shores of the Dead Sea,\npassing, very close to it, numberless heaps of cinders, indicating a\nrecent Bedouin encampment. We took a long bath in these buoyant waters.\nI sank as far as my neck, and then walked through the water as though on\nland. I remained nearly an hour in the water without touching the bottom.\nIt is very difficult to swim, as, when one assumes the swimming position,\nthe legs are thrown half out of the water. These waters, covering the\nsite of Sodom and Gomorrha, are clear as crystal, yet to the taste are\nbitter as gall. Riding along the plain for a short hour, we entered the\nluxurious vegetation on the banks of the Jordan, and dismounted near the\nplace where S. John baptized our Lord. Swift-flowing, muddy, turbulent\nJordan! shall I ever forget thee or the pleasant swim I had in thy sweet\nwaters? Father H---- and I dozed for about an hour, took a lunch, and\nthen, remounting, rode across the level plain of Jericho, and about five\no\u2019clock reached our tent, pitched on the site of ancient Jericho, at the\nfoot of the Mount of Temptation, where Satan would tempt our Lord with\nthe vain, fruitless riches of this world. After dinner we walked a short\ndistance, and sat down on the limb of a tree overhanging the sweet waters\nof the heaven-healed fountain of Elisha. Surrounded by armed Bedouins,\nwho watched our every motion with eager curiosity, and occasionally in\nplaintive tones requested _backsheesh_, we passed a delightful hour\nrecalling the sacred reminiscences connected with the spots around us.\nBehind us a crumbling ruin marks the site of once proud Jericho--the\ncity to which the warlike Joshua sent the spies from the Moabitish hills\nbeyond the Jordan; the city destroyed by the Israelitish trumpet-blast,\nand against which the terrible curse was pronounced: \u201cCursed be the\nman before the Lord that riseth up, and buildeth this city Jericho: he\nshall lay the foundation thereof in his first-born, and in his youngest\nson he shall set up the gates of it\u201d--a curse which was most fearfully\nfulfilled. Yonder Elijah went up to heaven in a whirlwind. Far away in\nthe distance the Dead Sea, hemmed in by its mountain banks, lies calm and\nplacid in the dying sunset. At our feet is the broad plain of Jericho,\nand at our back the mountains of Jud\u00e6a. How singular it must have seemed\nto the Israelites when they first saw mountains covered with trees and\nverdure! In their old Egyptian home they had seen but sand-mountains, the\nvegetation in no place extending beyond the level ground; and now for the\nfirst time after their dreary desert wanderings they saw the vegetation\ncreeping up the mountain-side even to its summit, and thousands of sheep\nbrowsing upon it on every hand. Early the next morning we were in the\nsaddle, _en route_ for Jerusalem, and, passing the spot where the good\nSamaritan ministered to the poor man who had fallen among thieves, we\nreached Bethany about noon. Procuring some tapers from an old woman, we\ndescended into the tomb from which the voice of his God had called forth\nthe dead Lazarus. A flight of steps leads down some distance into a small\nchamber, which is to-day in the same condition as when Martha\u2019s brother,\narising from the dead, testified to the assembled crowd the power of\nJesus of Nazareth. From here we ascended Olivet, and from its summit\nlooked with admiration upon the beautiful panorama spread out beneath us,\nand lunched under the venerable olive-trees, which perhaps had cast their\nshade upon the weary form of our Saviour, and had witnessed the glorious\nmiracle of his Ascension. Soon after we reached our convent home.\n\nThe Jews in the Holy City are much fairer than their brethren in America.\nThey wear the old-time gabardine, belted at the waist and extending to\nthe ankles; on the head a high black felt hat with broad brim, while two\ncurls hang down the cheek on either side. They are a sorrowful-looking\nrace, fascinating to gaze upon as connected with the great Drama, yet\ninspiring me at the same time with a feeling of disgust which I could\nnot control. How striking a picture of their degradation and fall from\ntheir once proud estate as the chosen ones of God, is shown as they\ngather on Fridays to their wailing-place; five courses of large bevelled\nstones being all that remain of Solomon\u2019s grand Temple! Here are Jews\nof all ages and of both sexes, crying bitterly over fallen Jerusalem.\nOld men, tottering up, bury their faces in the joints and cavities, and\nweep aloud as though their hearts were breaking, while in chorus comes\nthe low, plaintive wail of the women. In and among, and around and about\nthem, with shouts of mirth and laughter, play the children of the Arab\nconquerors. The Jews are permitted to weep here unmolested.\n\nOn Sunday afternoon, accompanied by Father Guido, we went to Bethlehem.\nWe passed the night in the Latin convent, and the next morning madame\nand I received Holy Communion from the hands of Father H----, who\ncelebrated Mass in the Crib of the Nativity, on the spot where the Wise\nMen stood when adoring the new-born Babe. The very spot where Christ\nwas born is marked by a silver star, with this inscription upon it:\n\u201cHic de Virgine Maria Jesus Christus Natus est.\u201d The star belongs to\nthe Latins, but the altar over it to the Greeks, who have several times\nattempted to carry off the star, but unsuccessfully. They, of course,\nwill not permit the Latins to celebrate Mass upon the altar. The Greeks,\nbeing more powerful, are continually harassing and heaping all sorts of\nindignities upon the Latins, who are obliged to submit to them. Shame\nupon the Catholic nations of Europe--nations which in bygone times sent\nforth those noble bands of Crusaders, sacrificing their lives to rescue\nthe holy places from infidel hands! But Easter a year ago they destroyed\nthe valuable hangings in the Holy Crib, presented to the Latins by the\nFrench government, and stole two pictures from their altars valued at\nsix thousand dollars apiece. Nay, more than this: they even severely\nwounded with a sword the Franciscan brother who endeavored to prevent\nthe execution of their nefarious designs. And again the past Easter, but\na few days before we were there, witnessed another of these terrible\nscenes of barbarism and inhumanity. A number of unoffending pilgrims,\njust returned from their annual Easter visit to the Jordan, were denied\nentrance by the Greeks to the basilica over the Holy Crib. And when they\ninsisted upon entering the church--which is common property, and in\nwhich they had a perfect right to go--and attempted to force their way\nin, they were arrested by the Turkish governor of Bethlehem--who is in\nleague with the Greeks--under the pretext that they were inciting to\nriot, and cast into a loathsome dungeon in Jerusalem. But, thanks to the\nexertions of M. de Lesseps, they were subsequently released.\n\nI rode over to the hill where the shepherds watched their flocks that\neventful night when the angels announced to them the \u201cglad tidings of\ngreat joy.\u201d In the afternoon we rode across the mountains to Ain-Karim,\nthe birth-place of S. John the Baptist.\n\nThe women in this part of the country, but particularly in Bethlehem and\nits vicinity, carry all their fortunes on their heads. Dressed in the\npicturesque garb of the Moabitish women, their coins are hung in great\nnumbers from their caps. One young mother, with her babe in her arms,\nand with her cap almost covered with rows of gold coins, approached me\nat Ain-Karim, and begged me in a piteous tone for a copper, and appeared\ndelighted when I gave it to her. They would almost sooner starve than\npart with these coins, in which they take great pride; but I imagine that\nafter they are married their husbands find means of obtaining possession\nof them, and then they get into general circulation again. We went to see\nthe scene of the Visitation, over which an altar had been erected in the\nearly ages of Christianity, but which had been concealed for centuries,\nand only accidentally discovered of late by the Latins in renovating\ntheir church. Alongside the altar is the impression of a baby in the\nrock. It is said that when Herod\u2019s soldiers came to the house of S.\nElizabeth to execute their master\u2019s murderous commands to massacre the\nlittle innocents, the saintly mother pressed her infant against the wall,\nwhich opened, received him, and then, closing again, hid him from view;\nand thus was he saved to grow up a voice crying in the wilderness, \u201cMake\nstraight the way of the Lord.\u201d We spent the night in the convent built\non the site of the house where was born this \u201cgreatest of men.\u201d The next\nday we returned to Jerusalem, visiting _en route_ the Greek church on the\nspot where grew the tree from which the sacred cross was made.\n\nShortly after this we left the Holy City, soon bade farewell to our\ntrusty dragoman, and embarked on the _Tibre_ at Jaffa, bound for\nMarseilles. Oh! what impressions were made upon me by my short sojourn\namong those sacred places. How my faith was strengthened, and my love and\ndevotion increased, and how earnestly and often I wished, and still wish,\nthat each and every one I know could see what I have seen and feel as I\nnow feel!\n\n\nA CHRISTMAS VIGIL.\n\n    \u201cOne aim there is of endless worth,\n      One sole-sufficient love--\n    To do thy will, O God! on earth,\n      And reign with thee above.\n    From joys that failed my soul to fill,\n      From hopes that all beguiled,\n    To changeless rest in thy dear will,\n      O Jesus! call thy child.\u201d\n\nExeter Beach was divided into two distinct parts by a line of cliff\njutting far out into Exeter Bay. Below the eastern face of the cliff\nlay the Moore estate, and then came the town; but on the west side was\nan inlet, backed by dense woods, and bounded on the farther extremity\nby another wall of rock. This was known as Lonely Cove, and deserved\nits title. From it one looked straight out to the open sea; no island\nintervened, nor was anything visible on shore save the two long arms of\nfrowning rock, the circuit of pine coming close to the edge of drift-wood\nthat marked the limit of the tide, and, at the far distance, a solitary\nhouse. This had once been occupied by a man who made himself a home apart\nfrom every one, and died as lonely as he lived; since then it had been\ndeserted, and was crumbling to decay, and many believed it to be haunted.\n\nAlong this beach, about three o\u2019clock one Christmas Eve, Jane Moore was\nwalking. It was a dull afternoon, with a lowering sky, and a chill in the\nair which foreboded rain rather than snow; but, wrapped in her velvet\ncloak and furs of costly sable, Jane did not heed the weather.\n\nHer heart was full to overflowing. From the first Christmas that she\ncould remember to the one previous to his death, she had taken that\nwalk with her father every Christmas eve, while he talked with her of\nthe joy of the coming day, sang to her old Christmas carols, and sought\nto prepare her for a holy as well as a merry feast. He had tried to be\nfather and mother both to his motherless girl, but his heart ached as he\nwatched her self-willed, imperious nature, often only to be curbed by her\nextreme love for him.\n\n\u201cBe patient, my friend,\u201d the old priest who knew his solicitude used to\nsay. \u201cIt is a very noble nature. Through much suffering and failure, it\nmay be, but _surely_, nevertheless, our Jane will live a grand life yet\nfor the love of God.\u201d And so James Moore strove to believe and hope, till\ndeath closed his eyes when his daughter was only thirteen years old.\n\nHeiress of enormous wealth, and of a beauty which had been famous in that\ncounty for six generations, loving keenly all that was fair, luxurious,\nand intellectual, Jane Moore was one of the most brilliant women of her\nday. Dancing and riding, conversation and music--she threw herself into\neach pursuit by turn with the same whole-hearted _abandon_ which had ever\ncharacterized her. Yet the priest who had baptized her, and who gave her\nspecial, prayerful care and direction, laid seemingly little check upon\nher. Such religious duties as were given her she performed faithfully;\nshe never missed the daily Mass or monthly confession; not a poor cottage\nin the village in which she was not known and loved, though as yet she\nonly came with smiles and money and cheery words, instead of personal\ntendance and real self-denial. No ball shortened her prayers, no sport\nhindered her brief daily meditation. The priest knew that beyond all\nother desires that soul sought the Lord; beyond all other loves, loved\nhim; and that she strove, though poorly and imperfectly and with daily\nfailure, to subject her will to the higher will of God. To have drawn\nthe curb too tightly then might have been to ruin all; the wise priest\nwaited, and, while he waited, he prayed.\n\nThis Christmas Eve on which Jane Moore was speeding along the beach\nwas the last she would ever spend as a merry girl in her old home. As\na wife, as a mother, she might come there again, but with Epiphany her\ngirlhood\u2019s days must end. Her heart, once given, had been given wholly,\nand Henry Everett was worthy of the gift; but the breaking of old ties\ntold sorely upon Jane, who always made her burdens heavier than need be\nby her constant endeavor to gain her own will and way. Her handsome face\nlooked dark and sallow that afternoon; the thin, quivering nostrils and\ncompressed lips told of a storm in her heart.\n\n\u201cI cannot understand it,\u201d she said aloud. \u201c_Why_ must I go away? Surely\nit was right to wish to live always in my old home among my father\u2019s\npeople. _Why_ should God let Henry\u2019s father live and live and live to be\nninety years old, and he be mean and troublesome? and _why_ should my\ndear father die young, when I needed him? I cannot bear to go away.\u201d\n\nAnd then came to her mind words said to her that very day--few words, but\nstrong, out of a wise and loving heart--\u201cGod asks something from you this\nChristmas, in the midst of your joy, which I believe he will ask from\nyou, in joy or sorrow, all your life long until he gets it. He wants the\nentire surrender of your will. I do not know how he will do it, but I\nam sure he will never let you alone till he has gained his end. Make it\nyour Christmas prayer that he will teach you that his will is better and\nsweeter than anything our wills may crave.\u201d\n\nShe flew faster along the beach, striving by the very motion to find\nrelief for the swelling of her heart.\n\n\u201cI cannot bear it,\u201d she cried--\u201cto have always to do something I do not\nwant to do! I cannot bear it. Yes, I can, and I will. God help me! But I\ncannot understand.\u201d\n\nOn, on, faster still, sobs choking her, tears blinding her. \u201cI wanted so\nmuch to live and die here. God must have known it, and what difference\ncould it make to him?\u201d\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t ye! Don\u2019t ye, Tom! Ye\u2019ve no right. Ye mustn\u2019t, for God\u2019s sake.\u201d\nThe words, in a woman\u2019s shrill voice, as of one weak with fasting or\nillness, yet strong for the instant with the strength of a great fear or\npain, broke in upon Jane\u2019s passion, and, coming to herself, she found\nthat she was close to the Haunted House. Fear was unknown to her; in an\ninstant she stood within the room.\n\nEvidently some tramp, poorer than the poorest, had sought shelter--little\nbetter than none, alas!--in the wretched place. A haggard woman was\ncrouching on a pile of sea-weed and drift-wood, holding tightly to\nsomething hidden in the ragged clothing huddled about her, striving\nto keep it--whatever it might be--from the grasp of a desperate,\nhalf-starved man who bent over her.\n\n\u201cGie it to me,\u201d he cried. \u201cI tell ye, Poll, I\u2019ll have it, that I wull,\nfor all ye. And I\u2019ll trample it, and I\u2019ll burn it, that I wull. No more\ncarrying o\u2019 crucifixes for we, and I knows on\u2019t. Gie us bread and\nbutter, say I, and milk for the babby there.\u201d\n\n\u201cNay, nay, Tom,\u201d the woman pleaded. \u201cIt\u2019s Christmas Eve. He\u2019ll send us\nsummat the night, sure. Wait one night, Tom.\u201d\n\n\u201cChristmas! What\u2019s him to we? Wait! Wait till ye starve and freeze\nto death, lass; but I\u2019ll not do\u2019t. There\u2019s no God nowhere, and no\nChristmas--it\u2019s all a sham--and there sha\u2019n\u2019t be no crucifixes neither\nwhere I bes. Ha! I\u2019s got him now, and I\u2019ll have my own way, lass.\u201d\n\n\u201cStop, man!\u201d Jane stood close beside him, with flashing eyes and her\nproud and fearless face. \u201cGive me the crucifix,\u201d she said.\n\nBut she met eyes as fearless as her own, which scanned her from head to\nfoot. \u201cAnd who be you?\u201d he asked.\n\n\u201cJane Moore,\u201d she answered, with the ring that was always in her voice\nwhen she named her father\u2019s honored name.\n\n\u201cAnd what\u2019s that to me?\u201d the man exclaimed. \u201cTake\u2019s more\u2019n names to save\nthis.\u201d And he shook the crucifix defiantly.\n\n\u201cStop, stop!\u201d Jane cried. \u201cI will pay you well to stop.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy then, miss?\u201d\n\n\u201cYour God died on a cross,\u201d Jane answered. \u201cYou shall not harm his\ncrucifix.\u201d\n\n\u201cSpeak for yourself, miss! Shall not? My wull\u2019s as strong as yours, I\u2019ll\nwarrant. God! There\u2019s no God; else why be ye in velvets and her in rags?\nThat\u2019s why I trample this \u2019un.\u201d\n\nIn another moment the crucifix would have lain beneath his heel; but Jane\nflung herself on her knees. All pride was gone; tears rained from her\neyes; she, who had been used to command and to be obeyed, pleaded like a\nbeggar, with humble yet passionate pleading, at the feet of this beggar\nand outcast.\n\n\u201cWait, wait,\u201d she cried. \u201cOh! hear me. Truly your God was born in a\nstable and died upon a cross. He loves you, and he was as poor as you.\u201d\n\n\u201cThere be no God,\u201d the man reiterated hoarsely. \u201cIt\u2019s easy for the likes\no\u2019 ye to talk, all warm and full and comfortable.\u201d\n\nJane wrung her hands. \u201cI cannot explain,\u201d she said, \u201cI cannot understand.\nBut it must be that God knows best. He sent me. Come home with me, and I\nwill give you food and clothes and money.\u201d\n\n\u201cNot I,\u201d cried the man defiantly. \u201cI knows that trick too well, miss.\nFood and clothes belike, but a jail too. I\u2019ll trust none. Pay me here.\u201d\n\nJane turned her pocket out. \u201cI have nothing with me,\u201d she said. \u201cWill you\nnot trust me?\u201d But in his hard-set face she read her answer while she\nspoke.\n\n\u201cVery well,\u201d she continued. \u201cTake a note from me to my steward. He will\npay you.\u201d\n\n\u201cLet\u2019s see\u2019t,\u201d was the brief reply. Hastily she wrote a few words in\npencil, and he read them aloud.\n\n\u201cNow, miss,\u201d he said, \u201cit\u2019s not safe for me to be about town much \u2019fore\ndark, and, what\u2019s more, I won\u2019t trust ye there neither. Here ye\u2019ll bide\nthe night through, if ye means what ye says.\u201d\n\n\u201cO Tom!\u201d the woman exclaimed, breaking silence for the first time since\nJane spoke, \u201c\u2019twull be a fearful night for the like o\u2019 she.\u201d\n\n\u201cLet her feel it, then,\u201d he retorted. \u201cWasn\u2019t her Lord she talks on born\nin the cold and the gloom to-night, \u2019cording to you and she, lass? Let\nher try\u2019t, say I, and see what she\u2019ll believe come morn.\u201d\n\nLike a flash it passed through Jane\u2019s mind that her last midnight Mass\namong her own people was taken from her; that, knowing her uncertain\nways, no one would think of seeking her till it was too late, any more\nthan her steward, well used to her impulses, would dream of questioning\na note of hers, no matter who brought it. Yet with the keen pang of\ndisappointment a thrill of sweetness mingled. Was not her Lord indeed\nborn in the cold and the gloom that night? \u201cI am quite willing to wait,\u201d\nshe said quietly.\n\nThe man went to the door. \u201cTide\u2019s nigh full,\u201d he said, \u201cand night\u2019s nigh\nhere. I\u2019ll go my ways. But mark ye, miss, I\u2019ll be waiting t\u2019other side,\nto see ye don\u2019t follow. Trust me to wait patient, till it\u2019s too dark for\nye to come.\u201d\n\nJane watched him till he had reached the further line of the cliff; then\nshe buried her face in her hands. Space and time seemed as nothing;\nagain, as for years she had been used to do, she strove to place herself\nin the stable at Bethlehem, and the child-longing rose within her to\nclasp the Holy Infant in her arms, and warm him at her heart, and clothe\nhim like a prince. And then she remembered what the man had said: \u201cIt\u2019s\neasy for the likes o\u2019 ye to talk, all warm and full and comfortable.\u201d\n\nThere are natures still among us that cannot be content unless they\nlavish the whole box of ointment on the Master\u2019s feet. Jane turned to the\nheap of sea-weed where the half-frozen woman lay. \u201cCan you rise for a\nminute?\u201d she asked gently. \u201cI am going to change clothes with you. Yes, I\nam strong, and can walk about and bear it all; but you will freeze if you\nlie here.\u201d And putting down the woman\u2019s feeble resistance with a bright,\nsweet will, Jane had her way.\n\nHalf exhausted, her companion sank back upon her poor couch, and soon\nfell asleep; and when the baby woke, Jane took it from her, lest its\npitiful wailing should rouse the mother, to whom had come blessed\nforgetfulness of her utter inability to feed or soothe it. She wrapped\nthe child in her rags, and walked the room with it for hours that night.\nIt seemed to her that they must freeze to death if she stopped. For a\ntime the wind raged furiously and the rain fell in torrents; no blessed\nvision came to dispel the darkness of her vigil; no ecstasy to keep the\ncold from biting her; she felt its sting sharply and painfully the whole\nnight through. The first few hours were the hardest she had ever spent,\nyet she would not have exchanged them for the sweetest joy this world had\never given her. \u201cMy Lord was cold,\u201d she kept saying. \u201cMy Lord was cold\nto-night.\u201d\n\nBy and by--it seemed to her that it must be very late--the storm passed\nover. She went to the door. The clouds were lifting, and far away the sea\nwas glimmering faintly in the last rays of a hidden and setting moon.\nBelow a mass of dark clouds, and just above the softly-lighted sea, shone\nout a large white star. Across the water, heaving heavily like one who\nhas fallen asleep after violent weeping, and still sobs in slumber, came\nto her the sound of the clock striking midnight; and then all the chimes\nrang sweetly, and she knew that the Mass she had longed for had begun.\n\n\u201cI cannot bear it!\u201d she cried; then felt the child stir on her breast,\nand, gathering it closer to her, she said slowly: \u201cGod understands. His\nway must be best.\u201d And she tried to join in spirit with those in church\nwho greeted the coming of the Lord.\n\nSurely there was some reason for her great disappointment and for her\nsuffering that night. Reason? Was it not enough to be permitted thus to\nshare His first night of deprivation? And presently she began to plan for\nherself God\u2019s plan--how the man would return, and find her there wet and\ncold and hungry, and would learn why she had done it, and would never\ndoubt God again. She fancied them all at home with her, employed by her,\nbrought back to a happy, holy life; and she prayed long and earnestly for\neach.\n\nHe did come, as soon as the gray morning twilight broke--came with haste,\nbade his wife rise, and take her child and follow him. He gave no time\nfor the words Jane wished to speak; but when the woman said that she must\nreturn the garments which had kept her warm, and perhaps alive, that\nnight, Jane cried \u201cNo, no! It is as if I had kept our Lady warm for once,\nand carried her Child, not yours.\u201d And she clasped the baby passionately,\nkissing it again and again.\n\nThe man stood doubtful, then tore the rich cloak from his wife\u2019s\nshoulders, seized the mean one which it had replaced, wrapped her in it,\nhiding thus the costly attire, that might have caused suspicion, then\nlooked about the room.\n\n\u201cThe crucifix?\u201d he said.\n\n\u201cIs it not mine?\u201d Jane asked.\n\nHe pointed to the woman. \u201cIt\u2019s her bit o\u2019 comfort,\u201d he said. \u201cGie it to\nher, miss. Plenty ye\u2019s got, I wot. I\u2019ll ne\u2019er harm \u2019un again.\u201d\n\nThere was no more farewell than that; no more promise of better things.\nIn a few minutes they had disappeared among the pines; and cold,\nsuffering, disheartened, Jane made her way homeward. To her truest home\nfirst; for bells were ringing for first Mass, and Jane stole into church,\nand, clad in beggar\u2019s rags beneath her velvet cloak, knelt in real\nhumility to receive her Lord. \u201cI do not understand,\u201d she said to him,\nsobbing softly. \u201cNothing that I do succeeds as I like. But, my Jesus, I\nam sure thy will is best, only I wanted so much to help them for thee.\nWhy was it, my Jesus?\u201d\n\nBut the years went by, and though Christmas after Christmas Jane\nremembered with a pang that great disappointment, her longings and her\nquestions remained unanswered.\n\nAnd so it was in almost everything. Her life after that strange Christmas\nEve was one of constant, heroic, personal service for others, in the love\nof the Sacred Heart of Jesus. The brilliant woman was never seen again at\nball or hunt, but beside the beds of the sick and suffering she was daily\nto be found, making the most painful, repulsive cases her special care.\nAnd she, who had delighted in daintiest apparel, never wore again after\nthat Christmas morning jewels or costly clothing. \u201cI have tasted once the\nsweetness of faring like my Lord,\u201d she said impetuously to her husband.\n\u201cDo not break my heart by making me all warm and full and comfortable\nagain.\u201d And he, whose high soul answered nobly to her own, never tried to\nhold her back, but followed her eagerly in her earnest following of her\nLord.\n\nYet the self-willed nature cost its owner many sufferings before it\nlearned submission to the divine Master. It pleased God that Jane Everett\nshould live to an advanced and very strong old age, and it also pleased\nhim through all those years to conform her will to his by constant and\npeculiar trials. The husband whom she loved with an almost idolatrous\nlove was taken from her, without an instant\u2019s warning, by a fearful\naccident. Her sons, whom she dedicated to God\u2019s holy priesthood, died in\ntheir cradles; her daughters grew into the fairest bloom of womanhood,\nonly to become the brides of death. Yet nothing quenched the fire in her\neye, and the cry of her heart for years was still its old cry: \u201cO God! I\ncannot bear it. Yes, I can. God\u2019s will is best. But I cannot understand.\u201d\n\nOne Advent the last remaining friend of her youth sent to her, begging\nher to come with haste to pass with her the last Christmas they could\nexpect to be together on earth; and the brave old woman, though craving\nto spend the holy season near her darlings\u2019 graves, went forth to face\nthe inclement weather with as stout a heart as in her youth she had sped\nalong Exeter Beach under the threatening sky. In a little village, with\nno one near who knew her except her servants, Death laid his hand upon\nher who had desired him for many days.\n\n\u201cThis is a serious illness,\u201d the physician said to her. Then, reading\nrightly the spirit with which he had to deal, he added: \u201cA sickness unto\ndeath, madam.\u201d\n\n\u201cHarness the horses, then,\u201d she said, lifting herself, \u201cand let me get to\nEwemouth and die there.\u201d\n\n\u201cSend for a priest,\u201d the doctor answered her. \u201cYou have no time to lose.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt has been always so, father,\u201d Jane said, looking up pitifully into\nthe face of the priest when at last he came. \u201cFrom the time that I\nfirst earnestly gave myself to God, up to this time, he has thwarted me\nin every way. Sixty years ago this very Christmas Eve he did it. It all\ncomes back to me as hard to bear as then; and all my life has been like\nthat.\u201d And slowly and with pauses Jane told the story of her night at\nLonely Cove.\n\n\u201cIt has always been so, father. Whenever I have loved any one or tried to\nhelp any one, I have failed or they have left me.\u201d\n\n\u201cMy daughter,\u201d the priest replied, \u201cGod\u2019s work in a life like yours is\nfar more the subjection of the will than the number of holy actions for\nothers. Be sure that what we think failure is often success in God\u2019s\neyes and through his power. He asks one last sacrifice from you. Madam,\nGod has brought you here to add the crowning blessing to your life--the\nopportunity of a last and entire surrender of your will to his most\nblessed will. Will you offer to him your whole life, that to you seems so\nincomplete and marred, judged by your own plans and wishes, saying to him\nwithout reserve that you believe, certainly, that his way is far better\nthan yours?\u201d\n\nHe held the crucifix before her, and suddenly the long years seemed\nto vanish like a dream, and she felt once more the biting cold in the\nhaunted house at Lonely Cove, and again a child nestled upon her heart,\nbringing with it the thought of the manger-bed, and the question, _Why_\nshould so much suffering be? And from that manger her thoughts returned\nto the hard couch of the cross; and to all that mystery of suffering came\nthe mysterious answer, \u201cNot my will, but thine, be done.\u201d\n\nShe took and kissed the offered crucifix. \u201cYes, father,\u201d she said\nmeekly. \u201cMay the most just, most high, and most amiable will of God be\ndone, praised, and eternally exalted in all things. I had rather die\nhere, O my God! since it is thy blessed will, than in any other place on\nearth.\u201d\n\n\u201cAmen,\u201d said the priest.\n\nBut when the last sacraments had been administered, and Jane lay calm and\npatient now, waiting her release, the priest drew near to her, and looked\nwith a great reverence upon her face.\n\n\u201cMy daughter,\u201d he said \u201cit is at times the will of God to show us even\nhere the use of some part at least of what he has let us do for him.\nBe sure his Sacred Heart remembers all the rest as well. Sixty years\nago this Christmas Eve my father was saved from a great sin, my mother\nand I from death, by a Christian woman\u2019s love for her Lord. The first\nconfession I ever heard was my own father\u2019s last. He told me that from\nthe time he saw that rich young girl in rags endure the biting cold for\nGod, faith lived in his heart, and _would not die_. I saw him pass away\nfrom earth in penitence and hope. For more than thirty years I have\nlabored among God\u2019s poor as your thank-offering. Madam, my mother by the\nlove of God, God sends you this token that he has worked his own work by\nmeans of you all your life long. He sends you this token, because you\nhave given him the thing he most desired of you--your will.\u201d\n\nJane folded her aged hands humbly. \u201cNot unto us, O Lord!\u201d she said, low\nand faint, and then a voice as of a son and priest at once spoke clearly,\nseeing her time had come: \u201cDepart, O Christian soul! in peace.\u201d\n\n\nTHE APOSTOLIC MISSION TO CHILI.\n\n_A CHAPTER IN THE LIFE OF PIUS IX._\n\nBefore entertaining ourselves with an account of the voyage and journeys,\nfrom Genoa to Buenos Ayres and across the continent to Valparaiso,\nof the first pope who has ever been to America, we shall enter into\na few details to show the occasion of the apostolic mission which he\naccompanied in an official capacity.\n\nThe great reverses of Spain at the beginning of the present century, and\nthe consequent weakening of the bonds that united her American colonies\nto their mother-country, besides some other causes silently working\nsince the emancipation of the thirteen British provinces from England,\nfinally led to a Declaration of Independence, which was established after\nseveral years of war. But the king to whose government these New-World\npossessions had been subject for nearly three hundred years refused to\nrecognize the accomplished fact or to enter into diplomatic relations\nwith rebels against his authority.[213]\n\nThe Congress of Verona, in 1822, took some notice of these revolted\ncountries; but the European powers did not all agree to receive them\ninto the family of nations by a formal recognition, and it is well\nknown that the views expressed in that assembly gave rise on the part\nof the President of the United States to a declaration of policy which\nhas been called the Monroe Doctrine.[214] The Holy See, having sublimer\ninterests to deal with, could not act as indifferently in this matter as\nother governments, which looked only to temporal advantage, and wrangled\nover old systems of public policy regardless of recent events. By the\nquixotic obstinacy of Spain the South American republics suffered much\ninconvenience, particularly in point of religion, because Rome could not\nprovide for their spiritual wants without risking an open rupture with\nhis Catholic Majesty--such were royal pretensions of restricting the\nexercise of papal rights, even in merely nominal dominions.[215]\n\nDuring the latter part of Pius VII.\u2019s pontificate the government of\nChili sent one of its distinguished citizens, the Archdeacon Don\nJos\u00e9 Cienfuegos, envoy to Rome, with instructions to try to establish\ndirect ecclesiastical relations between the Holy See and Santiago, the\ncapital of his country. He arrived there on August 22, 1822, and was\nwell received, but only in his spiritual capacity. The pope would not\nrecognize him as a political agent. On the 7th of September following\nthe Holy Father addressed a brief to the Bishop of Merida de Maracaybo,\nin which he expressed himself solicitous for the spiritual necessities\nof his children in those far-distant parts of America, and intimated\nhis ardent desire to relieve them. A little later he formed a special\ncongregation of six cardinals, presided over by Della Genga, who became\nhis successor as Leo XII.; and after mature deliberation on the religious\naffairs in the ex-viceroyalties of Spain, it was determined to send a\nmission to Chili, that country being chosen for the honor as having made\nthe first advances. This measure so displeased the Spanish government\nthat the nuncio Monsignor--afterwards Cardinal--Giustiniani was\ndismissed; and although he was soon after permitted to return, the wound\ninflicted upon him left its sting behind, for, coming very near to the\nnumber of votes requisite to election in the conclave after Pius VIII.\u2019s\ndeath, the court of Madrid barred his fortune by the exercise of that\nodious privilege called the _Esclusiva_; the ground of his exclusion from\nthe Papacy being supposed at Rome to have been his participation in the\nappointment of bishops to South America. The right (?) of veto expires\nwith its exercise once in each conclave; and Cardinal Cappellari (Gregory\nXVI.), who, as we shall see, had the most to do with these episcopal\nnominations, was elected pope.\n\nThe choice of a vicar-apostolic for the Chilian mission fell upon Prof.\nOstini (later nuncio to Brazil and a cardinal), who, after having\naccepted the position, saw fit suddenly to decline it for reasons best\nknown to himself. In his stead Don Giovanni Muzi, then attached to the\nnunciature at Vienna, was selected, and, having been recalled to Rome,\nwas consecrated Archbishop of Philippi in _partibus infidelium_,[216]\nwith orders to proceed immediately to Santiago. The mission, of which we\nshall speak more particularly hereafter, embarked on October 4, 1823, and\nreached Rome on its return the 7th of July, 1825.\n\nLeo XII. succeeded Pius VII. In 1824 the republic of Colombia sent Don\nIgnacio Texada to Rome with an application for bishops and apostolic\nvicars in that immense region; but the Spanish ambassador, Chevalier\nVargas, a haughty diplomate, brimful of _Espa\u00f1olismo_, went to the pope\nand demanded his dismissal. This was refused. The envoy had come for\nspiritual interests, not on political grounds; and the Spaniard could\nnot convince Leo that the rebel\u2019s argument--by which he asked no more\nthan that species of indirect recognition granted by the Holy See,\nunder Innocent X. and Alexander VII., to the house of Braganza when it\nforced Portugal from under Spanish rule--was not a good one and founded\non precedent. Nevertheless, Texada returned to Bologna, and finally\nwithdrew altogether from the Papal States. He had some fine qualities,\nbut lacked discretion in speech, which was a fault very injurious\nto his position. Harpocrates is still the great god of diplomacy the\nworld over. This state of things was embarrassing. Spain had refused\nto recognize the independence of her many provinces in the New World,\nalthough she had ceased practically even to disturb them. The king, who\nwas somewhat of a _Marquis de Carabas_, claimed all his old rights over\nthem, and, among them, that of episcopal presentation. Cardinal Wiseman,\nwho was an attentive observer of these times, remarks--very properly, we\nthink--that even if such a power could be still called legal, \u201cit would\nhave been quite unreasonable to expect that the free republics would\nacknowledge the jurisdiction of the country which declared itself at\nwar with them.\u201d This was a clear case in which allegiance should follow\nprotection. After a prudent delay, Leo thought it his duty to represent\nenergetically to the Spanish government the inconvenience he suffered\nfrom the existing state of affairs, and the impossibility of his viewing\nwith indifference a condition in which the faithful, long deprived of\npastors, were urgently asking for bishops for the vacant sees. Yet His\nHoliness had taken no decisive step, but called upon his majesty either\nto reduce his transatlantic subjects to obedience or to leave him free\nto provide as best he could for the necessities of the church. In the\nconsistory of May 21, 1827, the pope, after protesting that he could not\nany longer in conscience delay his duty to Spanish America, proceeded to\nnominate bishops for more than six dioceses in those parts. Madrid was,\nof course, displeased, although it was twelve years since the government\nhad lost even the shadow of authority there, and at first refused\nto receive the new nuncio, Tiberi.[217] At this juncture Pedro Gomez\nde Labrador was sent from Spain expressly to defeat the measure; but\nalthough \u201cacknowledged by all parties, and especially by the diplomatic\nbody in Rome, to be one of the most able and accomplished statesmen in\nEurope, yet he could not carry his point\u201d against the quiet and monk-like\nCardinal Cappellari, who was deputed by the pope to meet him. In the\nallocution pronounced by Labbrador before the Sacred College, assembled\nin conclave to elect a successor to Leo, he made an allusion to the\never-recurring subject of the revolted Americans; but although done with\ntact, it grated on the ears of many as too persistently and, under the\ncircumstances, unreasonably put forward.\n\nThe discussion between the courts of Rome and Madrid was not renewed\nduring the brief pontificate of Pius VIII.; but in the encyclical letter\nannouncing his election there is a delicate reference to the affair\nwhich, although not expressly named, will be perceived by those who\nare acquainted with the questions of that day. Comte de Maistre says\nsomewhere that if a parish be left without a priest for thirty years,\nthe people will worship--the pigs; and although the absence of a bishop\nfrom his diocese for such a length of time might not induce a similar\nresult, yet the faithful would drop, perhaps, into a Presbyterian form of\nchurch government and be lost. The veteran statesman Cardinal Consalvi\nevidently thought so, as we see by the fourth point, which treats of\nSpanish America, in the conference that he was invited to hold with\nLeo XII. on the most important interests of the Holy See.[218] When,\ntherefore, Gregory XVI.--who, as Cardinal Cappellari; had not been a\nstranger to the long dispute--became pope, he ended the matter promptly\nand for ever. In his first consistory, held in February, 1831, he filled\na number of vacant sees and erected new ones where required in South\nAmerica. On the 31st of August following he published the apostolic\nconstitution \u201cSolicitudo Ecclesiarum,\u201d in which he explained the reasons\nwhy the Holy See, in order to be able to govern the universal church,\nwhose interests are paramount to all local disputes, recognizes _de\nfacto_ governments, without intending by this to confer a new right,\ndetract from any legitimate claim, or decide upon _de jure_ questions.\nThe republics of New Granada[219] (1835), Ecuador (1838), and Chili\n(1840) were subsequently recognized with all the solemnities of\ninternational law.\n\nIn the last-named country there were two episcopal sees during the\nSpanish dominion. These were Santiago and Concepcion, both subject to\nthe Metropolitan of Lima; but Gregory rearranged the Chilian episcopate,\nmaking the first see an archbishopric, with Concepcion, La Serena, and\nSan Carlos de Ancud (in the island of Chiloe) for suffragan sees.\n\nAt the time that the apostolic mission to South America was determined\nupon, there was living in Rome a young ecclesiastic as yet \u201cto fortune\nand to fame unknown,\u201d but who was destined to become the first pope who\nhas ever been across the Atlantic, and the foremost man of the XIXth\ncentury. This was Don Giovanni Mastai-Ferretti, one of the fourteen\ncanons of the collegiate church of Santa Maria _in Via Lata_. He was\nselected by Pius VII. to accompany Mgr. Muzi as adjunct. The secretary\nof the apostolic delegation was a priest named Giuseppe Sallusti, who\nwrote a full narrative of the expedition, in which, as Cardinal Wiseman\nsays, \u201cThe minutest details are related with the good-humored garrulity\nof a new traveller, who to habits of business and practical acquaintance\nwith graver matters unites, as is common in the South, a dash of\ncomic humor and a keen sense of the ridiculous, and withal a charming\nsimplicity and freshness of mind, which render the book amusing as well\nas instructive, in spite of its heavy quotations from that lightest of\npoets, Metastasio.\u201d[220] It is in 4 vols. 8vo, with a map. Comparatively\nonly a small portion of the work is taken up with the actual voyages and\ntravels of the party, the rest being devoted to the preliminaries or\ncauses of the mission, to a description of Chili, and an account of the\nmany missionary establishments which had once flourished, as well as of\nthose that were still maintained, there. A fifth volume was promised by\nthe author to contain the documents, official acts, and results of the\nmission; but we believe that it was never published. The vicar-apostolic\nhaving received, at the earnest solicitation of a learned ecclesiastic\nfrom the Argentine Confederation, Rev. Dr. Pacheco, very ample faculties\nnot only for the country to which he was more immediately accredited,\nbut also for Buenos Ayres, Peru, Colombia, Mexico, and all other parts\nof the ex-Spanish dominions, and accompanied by the envoy Cienfuegos and\nFather Raymond Arce, a young Dominican belonging to Santiago, the party\nleft Rome for Bologna, where it rested awhile to get a foretaste of the\nmagnificent scenes in the New World from Father T. de Molina, who had\nlong resided in Chili. The next stage in the journey was to Genoa, the\nport of embarkation, which was reached only on the 17th of July; but, \u201cby\na series of almost ludicrous delays,\u201d the expedition was detained until\nafter the death of Pius VII. and the election of his successor, Leo XII.,\nwho confirmed the mission and addressed a brief to the president[221] of\nthe Chilian Republic, recommending its objects and the welfare of its\nmembers.\n\nAll matters being now satisfactorily arranged, the party got on board the\nfine French-built brig _Eloysa_ on the 11th of October, 1823. The vessel\nsailed under Sardinian colors, and was manned by a crew of thirty-four\nmen, and officered by experienced sailors, the captain, Anthony Copello,\nhaving several times navigated the South Atlantic. The weather was very\nrough, as usual, in the Gulf of Lyons; \u201cand gurly grew the sea,\u201d to the\ndismay and discomfiture of the terrified landsmen, \u201cMastai,\u201d as Sallusti\nfamiliarly calls his companion, suffering horribly from sickness. This\nwas but the beginning of many trials, and even some serious dangers,\namidst which we can well imagine that the captain would have been glad\nbeyond measure if any one had hinted at the very special Providence that\nguarded his ship, by quoting the famous words, \u201c_Quid times? C\u00e6sarem\nvehis et fortunam ejus!_\u201d Soon the _Eloysa_ approached the coast of\nCatalonia, down which she sailed at the rate of ten knots an hour, until\nstruck by a furious southwest hurricane, the _libeccio_ so much dreaded\nin the Mediterranean, which threatened destruction to all and everything\nin its course. To a landsman like Sallusti the storms encountered on\nthis voyage would naturally appear worse than they really were, and his\nfrequent account of \u201cwaves mountain-high\u201d and \u201cimminent shipwreck\u201d would\nperhaps sound like \u201cyarns\u201d to an old tar. He delights in describing the\n_Eloysa_ as\n\n    \u201cUplifted on the surge, to heaven she flies,\n    Her shattered top half buried in the skies\u201d\n\n                                               --(_Falconer_),\n\nand everywhere shows himself, like a good inland _abbate_, dreadfully\nafraid of salt water. Capt. Copello would fain have put into Valencia for\nshelter; but it was feared that the Spanish authorities might detain his\nship, or at least disembark the passengers, and it was determined rather\nto brave the elements than to trust themselves within gunshot of a\nSpanish harbor. These bold resolutions, however, did not appease the fury\nof the wind, and it finally came to deciding between a watery grave and a\nstony prison; the decision was quickly taken, and Palma, in the island of\nMajorca, was fetched in safety. The mission party was very inhospitably\ntreated here; and Mgr. Muzi and Canon Mastai were ordered to come on\nshore at once and give an account of themselves. As soon as they had put\nfoot on land, the two distinguished ecclesiastics were thrust into a cold\nand filthy Lazaretto, on plea of sanitary regulations, but really out of\nspite for their character and destination. Their papers were seized, and\nmeasures instantly taken to bring them to trial; and there was even talk\nof sending them to an African fortress where political prisoners were\nconfined. When Sallusti heard of this Balearic treatment, he summoned all\nhis Italian courage, and, going on shore, declared to the cocked-hatted\nofficials that he would share the fate of his companions; but instead\nof admiring this prodigality of a great soul (Hor. _Od._ i. 12, 38),\nthose unclassical islanders simply swore round oaths and turned him in\nwith the rest. This was fortunate in one sense; for we would otherwise\nhave missed a good description of the examination of the three Italians\nbefore the magistrates, who behaved rudely; the alcade, in his quality\nof judge, putting on more airs than a Roman proconsul.[222] Further\noutrages were threatened, but the intervention of the _Sardinian consul_\nand of the Bishop of Palma finally convinced those proud men of the\nexclusively religious mission of their victims. In view of subsequent\nevents in Italy, it seems strange that the future pope should have been\nsaved from further indignities, and perhaps from a dungeon, by an agent\nof the Piedmontese government; yet so it was. The Italians were permitted\nto return to the ship, but a demand was made to deliver up the two\nChilians as rebellious Spanish subjects. This was promptly refused; but\nnotwithstanding a great deal of blustering and many threats, the case\nwas allowed to drop, and the _Eloysa_ sailed away after several days\u2019\ndetention. Gibraltar was passed on the 28th of October, and a severe\nstorm having tossed the brig about unmercifully on her entry into the\nAtlantic, the peak of Teneriffe loomed up on November 4.\n\nAfter leaving the Canary Islands, the _Eloysa_ was hailed one dark\nnight by a shot across her bows, which came from a Colombian privateer,\nand quickly brought her to. She was quickly boarded, and a gruff voice\ndemanded her papers and to have the crew and passengers mustered on\ndeck. Sallusti was in mortal dread, and, to judge from his description\nof the scene, he must have been quaking with fear; but Don Giovanni\nMastai behaved with that calmness and dignity which even then began to\nbe remarked in him, in whatever circumstances he found himself. After\nsome delay, the brig was allowed to proceed; nothing being taken off but\na bottle of good Malaga wine--which, however, was rather _accepted_ than\nstolen by the rover of the seas.\n\nAfter a time the Cape Verd Islands appeared in all their richness; and\non the 27th of the month the line was crossed amidst the usual riot of\nsailors, and with the payment of a generous ransom by the clergy. On\nDecember 8 the _Eloysa_ lay becalmed alongside of a slaver crowded with\npoor Africans on their way to Brazil. Sallusti complains about this time\nof bad water and short rations, and mentions with particular disgust that\nthe fare generally consisted of potatoes and lean chickens. On the 22d a\nman fell overboard in a dreadful gale, and was rescued with difficulty.\nChristmas was celebrated as well as circumstances permitted; and a neat\nlittle oratory having been fitted up in the main cabin, midnight Mass\nwas said by the archbishop, the second Mass by Canon Mastai, and the\nthird by Friar Arce. On the 27th of December, S. John\u2019s Day, and the\npatronal feast of the canon, the welcome cry of \u201cLand ho!\u201d was heard\nfrom the look-out at the mast-head about three P.M., and the crew and\npassengers united upon deck to return fervent thanks to Almighty God.\nThe land sighted was a small desert island, a little north of Cape Santa\nMaria, off the coast of Uruguay. A fearful storm was encountered the next\nevening at the mouth of the La Plata. This was one of those southwestern\ngales, called _Pamperos_, which frequently blow with inconceivable fury,\ncausing singular fluctuations in the depth of the wide mouth of the\nriver. It raged so that the captain was obliged to cut his cable and\nabandon the shelter of Flores Island, which he had sought when it began,\nand to take to the open sea again. With better weather he returned and\ndropped anchor opposite Montevideo on the evening of January 1, 1824.\nSallusti goes into raptures over the beautiful aspect of the city, as\nseen from the bay; its broad and regular streets, its stately houses\nbuilt on a gentle elevation, its fine cathedral, the strains of music\nborne over the water--everything enchanted the travellers, weary of a\nthree months\u2019 voyage.\n\n    \u201cThe sails were furl\u2019d; with many a melting close\n    Solemn and slow the evening anthem rose--\n    Rose to the Virgin. \u2019Twas the hour of day\n    When setting suns o\u2019er summer[223] seas display\n    A path of glory, opening in the west\n    To golden climes and islands of the blest;\n    And human voices on the balmy air\n    Went o\u2019er the waves in songs of gladness there!\u201d\n\n                                                    --(_Rogers._)\n\nAs soon as the news got abroad of a delegation from the pope, the\nwhole city was in a joyful commotion, and a deputation, consisting of\nthe cathedral chapter, four other secular priests, and two Dominican\nfathers, came to the ship to pay their respects to Mgr. Muzi, who was\nalso invited on shore and pressed with every offer of assistance by the\nmost honorable representatives of the laity. These kind attentions could\nnot induce the party to land; and as soon as damages were repaired and\na pilot received, sail was made for Buenos Ayres, which was sighted at\ntwo P.M. of January 5; but just while the passengers were all on deck\nwatching the approaches to the city, they were assailed and driven below\nby myriads of mosquitoes. Sallusti is very vehement against these sharp\nlittle insects, and bewails the lot of those who must live among them;\nbut he carefully avoids a comparison with the _fleas_ of his native\nItaly. Although the passengers remained on board that night, crowds of\npeople lined the shore, and, after salutes of artillery, greeted them\nwith cries of \u201cLong live the vicar apostolic!\u201d \u201cCheers for America!\u201d\n\u201cSuccess to Chili!\u201d On the following day the captain of the port and his\nsuite came off to the brig, bringing a courteous note from the governor,\noffering a public reception (for which preparations had already been\nmade) and the hospitalities of the city to the members of the mission.\nThis was declined, for reasons that are not very clear; but although the\narchbishop gave his bad health as the principal excuse, we suspect that\nCienfuegos impressed upon the Italians that, the mission being directed\nto _his_ country, it were uncourtly to parade it before reaching its\ndestination. By their minds such a view would be accepted as _assai\ndiplomatico_. When the party did land, they put up at a hotel called\n\u201cThe Three Kings,\u201d kept by a jolly Englishman, who treated them right\nroyally--and made them pay in proportion. During their twelve days\u2019 stay\nin Buenos Ayres, the archbishop and his suite received every mark of\nreverence from the people; yet the officials maintained a cold reserve\nsince the refusal to accept their invitation. Even the ecclesiastical\nauthority--such as it was--put on very bad airs; Zavaletta, a simple\npriest, but administrator of the diocese, having the audacity to withdraw\nfrom Mgr. Muzi permission, which had been previously granted to give\nconfirmation. At the time of the arrival of the apostolic mission the\nprovinces of the Rio de la Plata, which had formed part of the Spanish\nviceroyalty of Buenos Ayres, had been united from 1816 to 1820, but were\nnow in a state of political isolation, somewhat like that of the States\nof the American Union before the federal Constitution was adopted. Soon\nafter the arrival of the mission, another General Congress was called.\nStill, the Italians were not impressed--as it was important that they\nshould be to obtain proper consideration at Rome,--with the idea of a\nstrong government holding sway over a vast and wealthy territory. On the\n16th of January, at nine o\u2019clock in the forenoon, the party began the\njourney across the continent. Three great covered wagons, each drawn\nby four horses and guided by twelve postilions, composed the train;\nwhile a courier went ahead to hunt up quarters, and a mounted orderly,\nwith a very long sword and a fierce-looking beard, brought up the\nrear or pranced about the flanks of the line. The drivers kept around\nin no particular order, sonorously cracking their whips and uttering\nloud sounds which probably were not oaths to the unaccustomed ears of\nSallusti. Besides the three Italians, there was Cienfuegos with four\nyoung Chilians in his company and two servants, so that the whole party\nwas pretty numerous, and the more so when, a little further on, six\ngallant guachos were added as an escort. Only fifteen miles were made\nthe first day, which brought the party to Moron, where confirmation was\ngiven. At a miserable rancho called Lujan the archbishop said his first\nMass on the pampas at a rich altar improvised for him by the _padre_\nof the place, and surmounted by four massive silver candlesticks. The\nroom was hung round with rich damask hangings. It was like a jewel in a\ndung-heap. The Arecife stream was crossed in boats by the travellers, but\nforded by the wagons and horsemen. The superb Parana River was reached\nat San Pedro; and thence the route lay through a rich and beautiful\ncountry to the important town of Rosario, on the high, precipitous banks\nof the great river. At the outskirts of this place the party was met by\nthe parish priest; and confirmation was administered the next day to an\nimmense number of the faithful, long deprived of this sacrament. From\nRosario, which they left on the morning of the 23d, the journey was long,\nweary, and dangerous, on account of the roving bands of Indians which at\nthat period scoured the plains in all directions to cut off herdsmen and\nsmall parties of travellers or traders, making a booty of their baggage,\nkilling the men, and carrying women and children into captivity. At a\nlittle station called Orqueta the party caught sight for the first time\nof a wild Indian, who was lurking about the place in a very suspicious\nmanner, but kept at a respectful distance from the guachos. When Sallusti\nsaw this man apparently spying out the route and strength of the party,\nthe marrow nearly froze in his bones; and he certainly had good cause\nfor alarm. It happened that leaving Buenos Ayres a few days earlier\nthan had been given out was lucky; for a large band of these mounted\nsavages, armed with lances and lassos, had got wind of the arrival of\ngreat personages from Europe, carrying (it was reported) an immense\namount of treasure to the Pacific coast, and had formed a plan to attack\nthem, which was defeated only by mistaking the day of their departure,\nwhereby their arrival at the lonely and ill-famed post of Desmochados\nwas miscalculated. Three days after the mission party had passed, the\nIndians, to the number of about three hundred, swooped down upon the\nplace, but, instead of finding the rich foreigners, they surrounded only\na miserable set of twenty peons escorting a lot of goods across the\nplains. These were all massacred except one, who, although badly wounded\nand left for dead, survived to tell the story and describe the fiendish\ndisappointment of the savages at not capturing the prey they expected.\nAt Frayle Muerto Mgr. Muzi received, through the agency of Cienfuegos,\na polite message from the clergy of Cordova;[224] but having sent his\nreturn compliments directly instead of through the channel of original\ncommunication, the Chilian thought himself slighted, and separated from\nthe mission party, preceding it a good distance, and taking with him,\nbesides his own attendants, the orderly in brilliant uniform, who, the\nEuropeans had the mortification of seeing, was meant to distinguish the\n_native_, although a subordinate in clerical rank. Such is human nature,\nwhether at courts or on a dusty plain.\n\nAfter passing through several small settlements and the more important\ntown of San Luis--being everywhere well received--the fine old city of\nMendoza was reached on the 15th of February. It seemed as if the entire\npopulation had turned out to honor the distinguished arrivals. Triumphal\narches were erected, troops were drawn up under arms, processions of\ncitizens and clergy marshalled; from every house richly-colored tapestry\nwas suspended, while the balconies were filled with ladies, who threw\ndown flowers in the path of the apostolic vicar as he entered the town\nand proceeded to the house of a noble and wealthy lady, Do\u00f1a Emmanuela\nCorbalan, in which everything had been prepared on the grandest scale\nof provincial magnificence, and where Cienfuegos, in all his glory\nand recovered temper, was waiting to receive him and Canon (Count)\nMastai, who were to be lodged there during their stay; the secretary,\nSallusti, being handed over to a less worshipful host. Religious and\ncivic festivals, excursions in the environs to the vineyards, gardens,\nfarms, and silver-mines, with other congenial occupations, detained\nthe party very agreeably during nine days in this neat and pleasant\ntown, the climate of which is noted for its salubrity. On the 24th\nthey left Mendoza, and had a delightful trip on horseback over good\nroads and through a civilized country for seventy-five miles to the\nfoot of the mighty Andes. They were now on the eastern range of the\nCordilleras, at the Paramilla Mountains, which are about ten thousand\nfeet high and partly covered with wood. Between these and the western\nrange they traversed, near thirty-two degrees south latitude, a wide\nvalley, sterile and impregnated with salt, for over forty miles, called\nthe Uspallata. For fifteen miles the road was level, and the remainder\nwinding up and down the hills which skirt both ranges. After crossing\nthis valley, they struck the great range of the Andes, which is between\nfifty and sixty miles in width, consisting of four or five parallel\nmasses of rock, divided from one another by deep and dangerous ravines\nand sombre glens. The road which leads over them is called the _Cumbre_\n(summit) Pass, and attains an elevation of twelve thousand four hundred\nand fifty-four feet above the level of the sea. Our travellers crossed\non mules by this road, getting to the north of them, amidst piles of\nperpetual snow, a magnificent view of the grand volcano of Aconcagua,\nwhich is nearly twenty-four thousand feet high. The passage of the\nmountains was grand and impressive, but was not made without danger to\nthe lives of some of the party, particularly on the 29th of February.\nFrom La Cumbre there is a gradual descent to the city of Santiago. On the\n1st of March the travellers cast their admiring gaze upon the Pacific\nslope, which, from that day until they entered the capital of Chili, on\nthe 6th of the month--passing through Villa-de-Santa-Rosa and over the\nmagnificent plains of Chacabuco--was a continually shifting panorama of\nnatural beauty, enhanced by villages, convents, and churches perched on\nthe side of verdant hills or nestling in the fruitful valleys. At every\nhalting-place their hearts were filled with a holy joy to witness the\ndemonstrations of faith among the people, and of loyalty to their great\nspiritual chief on earth, represented by Mgr. Muzi. The party entered\nSantiago, as was said, on the 6th, and, going to the cathedral, the\narchbishop intoned pontifically the _Te Deum_, with the assistance of a\nfuture pope and of the historian of the apostolic mission. The members of\nthe legation were lodged in a house near the _Cappucinas_; and although\nwe know little of the occupations of Canon Mastai in Chili, it is certain\nthat he made himself personally very agreeable. How could it be otherwise?\n\n    \u201cA man of letters, and of manners too:\n    Of manners sweet as virtue always wears,\n    When gay good nature dresses her in smiles.\u201d\n\n                                                --(_Cowper._)\n\nWe have been told by a distinguished Chilian that Canonico Mastai was\na frequent guest in Santiago at the house of his uncle, Don Francisco\nRuiz Tagle, and used to go out with him quite often to his country-seat.\nAlthough the mission was received with an almost universal outburst of\nenthusiasm, and notwithstanding the majority of the clergy and people\nwas well disposed, it met with considerable opposition from a fierce\nand fanatical party of Freemasons, which threw every obstacle in the\nway of close relations with Rome. Cardinal Wiseman says, in the article\nin the _Dublin Review_ from which we have already quoted, that \u201cthere\nwas jealousy and bad faith on the part of the Chilian government, and\nwant of tact and bad management, we fear on the part of the head of the\nmission.\u201d Unfortunately, the government was in a transition state between\nthe presidency of O\u2019Higgins and the election of his successor, Freire,\nand administered by a _Junta_. Where there were so many voices there was\nmuch confusion. Cienfuegos, however, seems to have done his duty, and\nhe was rewarded in 1832 by the bishopric of Concepcion, which had been\nvacant for fourteen years. He died in 1839. With regard to the causes of\nthe failure of the mission, we will not conceal what we have heard from\nan excellent senator of Chili, although we mention it reservedly--that\none, at least, of the reasons was a suspicion that Muzi intended to put\nItalians in the sees vacant or to be erected in Chili.\n\nFrom Santiago Mgr. Muzi and his party went to Valparaiso, and embarked\nfor their return voyage on the 30th of October, 1824. The remarks of the\ncelebrated Spaniard Balmes upon the visit of the future pope to the New\nWorld find their place here: \u201cThere is certainly in nature\u2019s grand scenes\nan influence which expands and nerves the soul; and when these are\nunited to the contemplation of different races, varied in civilization\nand manners, the mind acquires a largeness of sentiment most favorable to\nthe development of the understanding and the heart, widening the sphere\nof thought and ennobling the affections. On this account it is pleasing,\nabove all things, to see the youthful missionary, destined to occupy the\nchair of S. Peter, traverse the vast ocean; admire the magnificent rivers\nand superb chains of mountains in America; travel through those forests\nand plains where a rich and fertile soil, left to itself, displays with\nostentatious luxury its inborn treasures by the abundance, variety,\nand beauty of its productions, animate and inanimate; run risks among\nsavages, sleep in wretched hovels or on the open plain, and pass the\nnight beneath that brilliant canopy which astonishes the traveller in the\nsouthern hemisphere. Providence, which destined the young Mastai-Ferretti\nto reign over a people and to govern the universal church, led him by\nthe hand to visit various nations, and to contemplate the marvels of\nnature.\u201d[225]\n\nA remote but very providential consequence of the visit of Pius IX. to\nAmerica, during his early career, was the establishment of the South\nAmerican College at Rome, called officially in Italian the Pio-Latino\nAmericano,[226] which educates aspirants to the priesthood from Brazil\nand all parts of the American continent where the Spanish language is\nspoken. A wealthy, intelligent, and influential Chilian priest, Don\nIgnacio Eyzaguirre,[227] who had been vice-president of the House of\nRepresentatives in 1848, and was an author of repute, was charged by\nPius IX. in 1856 to visit the dioceses of South and Central America and\nMexico, to obtain the views of the several bishops upon the necessity of\nfounding an ecclesiastical seminary at Rome. The project was universally\nacceptable, and funds having been provided--the Holy Father giving\nliberally from his private purse--a beginning was made in 1858, when a\npart of the Theatine Convent of San Andrea _della Valle_ was given up\nto the students, who were put under the direction of Jesuit Fathers.\nThis location was only temporary; and the college was soon transferred\nto the large house of the general of the Dominicans, attached to the\nconvent of Santa Maria _sopra Minerva_, and facing the piazza. However,\nit has been moved again, and in 1869 occupied the right wing of the\nnovitiate at San Andrea on the Quirinal, with fifty-five inmates. As\nif this worthy establishment had to figure in its shifting fortune the\nunsettled state of so many of the Spanish American countries, it has\nagain been disturbed; yet to suffer at the hands of Victor Emanuel and\nhis sacrilegious band is the indication of a good cause, and will prepare\nto meet other, although hardly worse, enemies in the New World.\n\n\nFREE WILL.\n\n                     I.\n\n    The river glideth not at its sweet will:\n      The fountain sends it forth;\n    And answering to earth\u2019s finger doth it still\n      Go east, west, south, or north.\n\n                     II.\n\n    The soul alone hath perfect liberty\n      To flow its own free way;\n    And only as it wills to follow thee,\n      O Lord! it findeth day.\n\n\nNELLIE\u2019S DREAM ON CHRISTMAS EVE.\n\nThey had quarrelled, these two--it matters not about what trifle--till\nthe hot, bitter words seemed to have formed an impassable barrier and a\nsilence fell between them that the lowering brow and compressed lip told\nwould not be easily broken. Both had loving hearts, and treasured each\nother above all earthly things. They had real sorrows enough to make\nimaginary ones glance off lightly; for the second Christmas had not yet\ncast its snows on their mother\u2019s grave. The thought of each was, \u201cHad\n_she_ been here, this would not have happened\u201d; but pride was strong, and\nthe relenting thoughts were hidden behind a cold exterior.\n\nIt was the week before Christmas, and Laura, the eldest, was assisting to\ntrim the village church, and in the Holy Presence the dark thought faded\nand tender memories seemed to reassert their olden sway; and on returning\nfrom her occupation she formed the resolution to stop this folly, and\nmake advances towards assuming the old, happy life.\n\n\u201cFather Black asked after you, Nell,\u201d she said, as she laid aside her\nwrappings, and turned cheerily to the fire. \u201cHe wants you to play during\nthe rehearsal of the new Benediction to-morrow; for Prof. C---- will be\naway.\u201d But she was met by a stony look and closed lips. \u201cCome, Nell,\u201d\nshe said half impatiently, \u201cdon\u2019t be so dignified; why do you love that\ntemper of yours so dearly?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou said let there be silence between us, and I am content,\u201d was the\nrejoinder. \u201cI shall take care not to trouble you in future.\u201d\n\nPride and love struggled for mastery in the heart of the eldest, and it\nwas a mingling of both that brought the answer, in tones cold enough to\nfreeze the tenderness of the words: \u201cThere will come a silence between us\none day, Nell, you will be glad to break.\u201d And she passed from the room.\n\n\u201cLet it come,\u201d was the almost insolent reply; but there was a mist in the\nflashing black eyes that contradicted the words.\n\nThey passed the day apart from each other, and at night, although\nkneeling for prayer in the same little oratory, and occupying the same\nlittle white-draped chamber, the chilling silence remained. So passed the\nnext day, and it was now Christmas Eve. The evergreens were all hung in\nthe village church; the altar was radiant with flowers and tapers; the\nconfessionals were thronged; but both sisters kept aloof, and both hearts\nwere aching over the pride and anger that was strangling even religion in\ntheir souls. Alas! alas! how the angels must have mourned to see days of\nsuch especial grace passing in sin. Christmas gifts had been prepared,\nbut neither would present them. How different other Christmas Eves had\nbeen!--the gentle mother overseeing every preparation for the next day,\nthat was always celebrated as a feast of joy. Those busy hands were idle\nnow, and the white snow was coldly drifting over the mound that loving\nhearts would fain have kept in perpetual summer. A mother\u2019s grave! Except\nto those who have knelt beside that mound--that seems such a slight\nbarrier between the aching heart and its treasure, and yet is such a\nhopeless, inexorable one--these words have little meaning.\n\nThey retired early, and, as Nell knelt for prayer, the hot tears rolled\nthrough her fingers as she thought of other Christmas mornings, when they\nhad been awakened for early Mass by the \u201cMerry Christmas! girls,\u201d that\nearth would never, never hear again. But the icy bands of pride that had\nfrozen around her heart would not melt, and sleep came again in that\nstony stillness.\n\nMorning came to Nellie\u2019s perturbed visions, and in the gray dawn \u201cMerry\nChristmas\u201d broke forth from her lips; but the memory of the past few\ndays checked the words, and they died in whispers. But as she glanced at\nLaura, she saw that her eyes were open, but that their expression was\nfixed and rigid. She sprang up with a vague alarm, and laid her hand upon\nthe low, broad forehead. It was icy cold. Shriek after shriek rang from\nher lips, but they reached not the death-dulled ear.\n\n\u201cI never meant it, Laura--I never meant it! Only come back that I may\nspeak one word!\u201d she moaned. \u201cO my God! give her back to me for one hour,\nand I will submit to thy will.\u201d But her voice only broke the silence,\nand the white, smiling lips on the bed seemed a mockery of the passionate\nanguish wailing above them. She threw herself before the little altar in\nher room. \u201cBlessed Mother!\u201d she prayed, \u201cI promise, solemnly promise,\nthat never, never again will I give way to the passionate temper that has\nbeen my bane, if she may only come back for one hour to grant forgiveness\nfor the awful words I have spoken.\u201d And for the first time since she had\nrealized her sorrow tears fell from her eyes.\n\n\u201cWhy, Nellie, Nellie, what ails you?\u201d said a familiar voice. \u201cYou are\ncrying in your sleep on this merry Christmas morning; _do_ waken.\u201d And,\noh! the heaven that met those unclosing eyes--Laura bending over her,\nsmiling, yet with a look of doubt in her face as if the icy barrier had\nnot yet broken down.\n\n\u201cO my darling, my darling!\u201d sobbed the excited girl, winding her arms\naround her sister. \u201cThank God it is only a dream; but never, never again\nwill I give way to my awful temper. I have promised it, Laura, and I will\nkeep my vow.\u201d\n\nAnd she did. For though she lived long enough for the dark hair to lie\nlike snowy floss under the matron\u2019s cap, never did those lips utter\nstinging sarcasm or close in sullen anger. And often, when her gentle\nvoice seemed unable to stem some furious tide of passion among her\ngrandchildren, would she tell the story of her dream on Christmas Eve.\n\n\nALLEGRI\u2019S MISERERE.\n\nAT the base of a cliff flowed a tiny rivulet; the rock caught the\nrain-drops in his broad hand, and poured them down in little streams to\nmeet their brothers at his feet, while the brook murmured a constant song\nof welcome. But a stone broke from the cliff, and, falling across the\nrivulet, threatened to cut its tender thread of life.\n\n\u201cMy little strength is useless,\u201d moaned the streamlet. \u201cVainly I struggle\nto move onward; and below the pebbles are waiting for their cool bath,\nthe budding flowers are longing for my moisture, the little fish are\npanting for their breath. A thousand lives depend on mine. Who will aid\nme? Who will pity me?\u201d\n\n\u201cWait until Allegri passes; he will pity you,\u201d said the breeze. \u201cOnce the\ncruel malaria seized me, and bound messages of death upon me. \u2018Pity!\u2019 I\ncried. \u2018Free me from this burden, from which I cannot flee.\u2019 \u2018Hear the\nwind moan,\u2019 said some; but no one listened to my prayer till I met a\ndreamy musician with God\u2019s own tenderness in his deep eyes. \u2018Have mercy!\u2019\nI sobbed; and the gentle master plucked branches of roses, and cast them\nto me. I was covered with roses, pierced with roses, filled with roses;\ntheir redness entered my veins, and their fragrance filled my breath;\nroses fell upon my forehead with the sweetness of a benediction. The\ndeath I bore fled from me; for nothing evil can exist in the presence of\nheaven\u2019s fragrance. Cry to the good Allegri, little brooklet; he will\npity you.\u201d\n\nSo the rivulet waited till the master came, then sighed for mercy. The\nrock was lifted, and the stream flowed forward with a cry of joy to share\nits happiness with pebble and flower and fish.\n\nA little bird had become entangled in the meshes of a net. \u201cTrust to the\ngood Allegri,\u201d whispered the breeze; \u201cit is he who gave me liberty.\u201d\n\u201cTrust to the good Allegri,\u201d rippled the brook; \u201cit is he who gave me\nliberty.\u201d So the bird waited till the master passed, then begged a share\nof his universal mercy. The meshes were parted, and the bird flew to the\nmorning sky to tell its joy to the fading stars and rising sun.\n\n\u201cOh! yes, we all know Allegri,\u201d twinkled the stars. \u201cMany a night we have\nseen him at the bed of sickness.\u201d\n\n\u201cMany a day I have seen him in the prison,\u201d shouted the sun with the\nsplendor of a Gloria. \u201cWherever are those that doubt, that mourn, that\nsuffer; wherever are those that cry for help and mercy--there have I\nfound Allegri.\u201d\n\nThe people of the earth wondered what made the sun so glorious, not\nknowing that he borrowed light from the utterance of a good man\u2019s name.\n\nA multitude of Rome\u2019s children had gathered in S. Peter\u2019s. The Pope was\nkneeling in the sanctuary; princes and merchants were kneeling together\nunder the vast cupola, the poor were kneeling at the threshold; even a\nleper dared to kneel on the steps without, and was allowed the presence\nof his Lord. All souls were filled with longing, all hearts were striving\nfor expression.\n\nThen strains of music arose: O soul! cease your longing; O heart! cease\nyour strife; now utterance is found.\n\nSadder grew the tones, till, like the dashing of waves, came the sigh:\n\u201cVainly I struggle to move onward. Have mercy, Father!\u201d The lights\nflickered and died, a shadow passed over the worshippers, and the Tiber\nwithout stopped in its course to listen.\n\nSadder grew the tones, till the moan was heard: \u201cVainly I strive to\nescape these meshes. Have mercy, Father!\u201d The shadow grew deeper, and a\nlittle bird without stopped in its flight to listen.\n\nStill was the music sadder with the weight of the sob: \u201cVainly I flee\nfrom this loathsome burden. Have mercy, Father!\u201d Vaster and darker grew\nthe shadow, and the very breeze stopped in its course to listen.\n\nAnd now the music mingled sigh and moan and sob in one vast despairing\ncry: \u201cVainly I struggle against this rock of doubt. Have mercy, Father!\nVainly I strive to escape these meshes of sin. Have mercy, Father! Vainly\nI flee from this evil self. Have mercy, O Father! have mercy.\u201d Darker\nand deeper and vaster grew the shadow, and all sin in those human hearts\nstopped in its triumph to listen.\n\nAll light was dead, all sound was dead. Was all hope dead? \u201cNo!\u201d wept\na thousand eyes. \u201cNo!\u201d sobbed a thousand voices; for now high above\nthe altar shone forth the promise of light in darkness, of help in\ntribulation--in sight of Pope and prince, in sight of rich and poor, and\neven in sight of the leper kneeling without, gleamed the starry figure of\nthe cross.\n\n\u201cHow was this Mass of Allegri so completely formed,\u201d cry the three\ncenturies that have passed since then, \u201cthat we have been able to add\nnothing to its perfection?\u201d\n\nThe calm voice of nature answers: It is because his own love and mercy\nwere universal; because he had learned that all creation needs the\nprotecting watchfulness of the Maker; because he gave even the weakest\ncreatures voice in his all embracing cry of Miserere.\n\n\nTO-DAY AND YESTERDAY.\n\n                        I.\n\n    \u201cThat city knoweth nor sign nor trace\n      Of mutable land or sea;\n    Thou who art changeless, grant me a place\n      In that far city with Thee.\u201d\n\n    So spake she, gazing on the distant sea,\n        That lay, one sheet of gold, in morning light;\n        And then she cried, \u201cGod, make my blindness sight!\u201d\n    Heart-sore, heart-hungry, sick at heart, was she,\n    And did mistrust no other hope could be,\n        This side the grave, than shifting sea and land;\n        Yet dreamed she not her house was built on sand,\n    But fearless thought of dread eternity.\n    And men admired the house she builded fair,\n        Until a tempest, risen with sudden shock,\n    Rent it. Then God made answer to her prayer:\n    Showed her _on earth_ a city, calm, and old,\n        And strong, and changeless; set her on a rock;\n    Gave her, with him, a place in his true fold.\n\n                        II.\n\n    \u201cFor, oh! the Master is so fair,\n      His smile so sweet to banished men,\n    That they who meet it unaware\n      Can never rest on earth again.\u201d\n\n    Such were the words that charmed my ear and heart,\n        In days when still I dwelt outside the fold;\n        But now they seem to me too slight and cold,\n    For I have been with thee, dear Lord, apart,\n    And seen love\u2019s barbed and o\u2019ermastering dart\n        Pierce thee beneath the olives dark and old,\n        Until thy anguish could not be controlled,\n    But from thy veins the Blood of life did start.\n    O Word made flesh, made sin, for sinful man!\n        I seek not now thy smile, so fair, so sweet;\n    Another vision, haggard, pale, and wan,\n    Of one who bore earth\u2019s sin and shame and smart,\n        Hath drawn me, weeping, to thy sacred feet,\n    To share the unrest of thy bleeding Heart.\n\n\nTHE YEAR OF OUR LORD 1875.\n\nThe year 1875 has not been a specially remarkable one as distinct from\nthe years immediately preceding it. Great questions, which affect\nhumanity at large beyond the line of nationality, and which were rife\nthree or four years ago, are undecided still. No wars, or revolutions,\nor discoveries, or mighty changes have occurred during the year to\nalter sensibly the current of human affairs. What the world at large\nquarrelled and wrangled over a year, two years, three, four years ago,\nit wrangles over still, and may for years yet to come. Much as science\nand culture have done to break down the barriers that separate men and\nbring the human family nearer together, nations, nationally considered,\nstand as far apart as ever they did, and the imaginary line that divides\nneighboring peoples finds them wide apart as the antipodes.\n\nTo begin a rapid and necessarily incomplete review at home, the past\nyear can scarcely be regarded as either a happy or successful one,\ncommercially speaking, in the United States. Preliminary echoes of the\nCentennial year of the great republic have been heard, but amid them the\ncrash of falling banks that had no legitimate excuse for falling, and\nof business firms that followed in due order. This, however, is only a\nrepetition of the two preceding years, which it is as painful as it would\nbe useless to dwell upon here. In a word, business at large--instead of\nrecovering, as it was hoped it would, during the past year--if anything,\nfell behind, and so continues. The election did not tend to enliven it.\nThere are hopes, however, of a real revival during the coming Centennial\nyear, or at least of a beginning on the road of improvement. There is the\nmore reason to hope for this that large branches of our industries, such\nas cereals, iron, and cotton goods, are beginning to find a good foreign\nmarket.\n\nLooked at largely, there are some things on which Americans may\ncongratulate themselves during the year. Chief among these are their\nvery misfortunes. Extravagance in living, foolish and vulgar display\nin dress and equipage, have disappeared to a satisfactory extent. Of\ncourse where wealth abounds and fortunes are rolled up easily, there\nwill be shoddy; but then let it be marked off, and the world will not\nbe the loser. Again, there was a good sign on the part of the people to\nform opinions of their own regarding the questions up before them and\nthe respective merits and qualifications of the various candidates for\nelection. To be sure, many, too many, persons were elected who were a\ndisgrace to their constituencies; and while such men are set in high\nand responsible positions it is vain to look for reform in the thousand\nabuses that afflict the conduct of public affairs. Still, there was a\nhopeful indication of the right feeling among the people.\n\nPerhaps the most memorable, certainly the most significant, event to\nCatholics in the history of this country took place during the year.\nThe venerable Archbishop of New York was raised by the Holy Father to\nthe dignity of the cardinalate, and thereby set in the senate of the\nchurch of which Christ is the invisible, and the Pope, the successor of\nPeter, the visible, head. To speak of the fitness of the Holy Father\u2019s\nchoice in selecting Archbishop McCloskey for this high office and\nproud privilege of being the first American cardinal is not for us. It\nis sufficient to say that not Catholics alone, but their Protestant\nfellow-countrymen also, all the land over, received the news and hailed\nthe choice with acclaim. But what moves us most is the significance of\nthe act. In the appointment of an American cardinal in the United States\nthe wish expressed by the Council of Trent has in this instance been\nrealized. That great council ordained, respecting the subjects of the\ncardinalate, that \u201cthe Most Holy Roman Pontiff shall, as far as it can be\nconveniently done, select (them) out of all the nations of Christendom,\nas he shall find persons suitable\u201d (Sess. 24, _De Ref._, c. i.) Were this\nrecommendation completely carried out, it would probably be one of the\ngreatest movements that have taken place in the Catholic Church for the\nlast three centuries.\n\nSuppose, for example, that the great Catholic interests throughout the\nworld were represented in that body by men of intelligence, of known\nvirtue, and large experience; suppose every nationality had there its\nproportionate expression--a senate thus composed would be the most august\nassembly that ever was brought together upon earth. It would be the only\nworld\u2019s senate that the world has ever witnessed. This would be giving\nits proper expression to the note of the universality of the church.\nThe decisions of the Holy Father on the world-interests of the church,\nassisted by the deliberations of such a body, would have more power to\nsway the opinions and actions of the world than armies of bayonets. For,\nwhatever may be said to the contrary in favor of needle-guns and rifled\ncannon, the force of public opinion through such agents as electricity\nand types moves the world, above all when supported by the intelligence,\nvirtue, and experience of men who have no other interests at heart than\nthose of God and the good of mankind.\n\nWho knows but the time has come to give this universality of the church\na fuller expression? Is not divine Providence acting through modern\ndiscoveries, rendering it possible for the human race to be not only one\nfamily in blood, but even in friendship and unity of purpose? Perhaps the\npresent persecutions of the church in Italy are only relieving her from\npast geographical and national limitations, to place her more completely\nin relations with the faithful throughout the world. Who knows but the\ntime is near when the Holy Father will be surrounded by representatives\nof all nations, tribes, and peoples, from the South as well as from the\nNorth, from the East as well as from the West; by Italians, Germans,\nFrenchmen, Spaniards, Englishmen, Belgians, Portuguese, Austrians,\nIrishmen, Americans, Canadians, South Americans, Australians, as well as\nby representatives of the faithful from the empire of China? Would this\nnew departure be anything more than the realization of the wish expressed\nby that great and holy council held at Trent three centuries ago?\n\nIn passing from our own to other lands, we cannot do so, at the opening\nof the second century of our country\u2019s life, without a glance at\nsomething larger and wider than the mere local interests of every-day\nlife which touch us most nearly. Beyond doubt there is much to criticise,\nmuch, perhaps, to be ashamed of, much to deplore, in the conduct of our\ngovernment, local and national, and in the social state generally of\nour people. Still, we see nothing at present existing or threatening\nthat is beyond the remedy of the people itself. It is a fashion among\nour pessimists to contrast the America of to-day with the America of a\nhundred years ago. Well, we believe that we can stand the contrast. The\ncountry has expanded and developed, and promises so to continue beyond\nall precedent in the history of this world. When the experiment of a\ncentury ago is contrasted with the established fact--the nation--of a\nfree and prosperous people of to-day, we can only bless God. And allowing\nthe widest margin for the evils and shortcomings in our midst, when we\nglance across the ocean at nations armed to the teeth, looking upon one\nanother as foes, and either rending with internal throes or threatening\nto be rent, pride in this country deepens, and the heart swells with\ngratitude that in these days God has raised up a nation where all men may\npossess their souls in peace.\n\nWe have some alarmists among us who look in the near future to the\noccurrence of scenes in this country similar to those now being\ntransacted in Europe, where men are persecuted for conscience\u2019 sake.\nWe cannot share in these alarms. As we see no evils in our midst which\nare beyond the remedy of the people, so we see no religious or other\nquestions that may arise which cannot be civilly adjusted. This is not\na country where the raw head and bloody bones thrive. The question of\nreligion is decided once for all in the Constitution. Catholics, of\ncourse, have a large heritage of misrepresentation to contend against,\nbut that is rapidly diminishing. A Bismarck may strive to introduce into\nour free country, through a band of fanatics and weak-minded politicians,\nthe persecuting spirit which he has attempted to introduce into England\nby a Gladstone, which he has succeeded in introducing into Italy by a\nMinghetti, and into Switzerland by a Carteret; but before they reach the\nhundredth part of the influence of the disgraceful Know-Nothing party,\nthe good sense and true spirit of our countrymen will, as it did in the\ncase of that party, brand all who have had any prominent connection with\nthe movement with the note of infamy. The fanatical cry of \u201cNo Popery\u201d\nis evidently played out at its fountain-source in old England, while the\nattempt to revive its echoes will meet with still less success in _new_\nEngland. We see no clouds on the American horizon that should cause\nCatholics any grave apprehension.\n\nThe end of such attempts always is that those who strike the sparks only\nsucceed in burning their fingers. All we have to do is to walk straight\nalong in the path we have been following of common citizenship with those\naround us, in order to secure for ourselves all the rights which we are\nready to concede to others.\n\nThe European situation during the past year may be summed up under two\nheadings--the struggle between church and state, and the prospects of\nwar. To enter at any length into the question between church and state\nin Germany and in other countries in Europe would be going over old\nground which has been covered time and again in THE CATHOLIC WORLD. Only\nsuch features of the contest will be touched upon as may set the present\nsituation clearly before the mind of the reader.\n\nThe official _Provincial Correspondence_, at the opening of the past\nyear, said in a retrospective article on the events of 1874: \u201cThe\nconviction has been forced upon the German government that the German\nultramontane party are a revolutionary party, directed by foreigners\nand relying mainly upon the assistance of foreign powers. The German\ngovernment, therefore, are under the necessity of deprecating any\nencouragement of the ultramontane party by foreign powers. It was for\nthis reason that the German government last year thought it incumbent\non them to use plain language in addressing the French government\nupon the sayings and doings of some of the French bishops. France had\ntaken the hint, and had prevented her ultramontanes setting the world\non fire merely to vent their spite against Germany.\u2026 It was, perhaps,\nto be expected under these circumstances that, abandoning at last all\nhope of foreign assistance, the German ultramontanes would make their\npeace with the government in Prussia, and no longer object to laws they\nwillingly obey in Baden, Bavaria, W\u00fcrtemberg, and Oldenburg, not to speak\nof Austria and other states. At all events, it was very desirable that\nthe ultramontanes should yield before the church was thrown into worse\nconfusion by their malicious but impotent resistance.\u201d\n\nSuch was the pleasant prospect held out for the Catholics by the official\norgan at the opening of the year. The programme sketched in it has been\nfaithfully carried out, and Germany has taken another step in the path of\nfreedom, internal peace, and consolidation by planting its foot nearer\nthe throat of the church. It is useless to enter into a refutation of\nthe falsehoods contained in the extract from the official journal.\nThey have been refuted in the German Reichstag and all the world over.\nIt is needless, also, to call attention to the tone of the official\njournal, and the manner, become a fashion of late with German statesmen\nand writers at large, of warning foreign powers to keep a civil tongue\nin their heads respecting German matters, or it may be the worse for\nthem. How far the Catholics have yielded to the kindly invitation held\nout to them the world has seen. We have before this remarked on the\nstrange anxiety manifested by a government, convinced of the justice of\nits cause and the means it was pursuing towards its end, to stifle the\nexpression of public opinion, not only at home, but abroad. Moreover, the\nvery fact of its being compelled to deprecate \u201cany encouragement of the\nultramontane party by foreign powers\u201d says as plainly as words can say it\nthat those powers see something in the party to encourage.\n\nHere is a sample--one out of hundreds such--of the manner in which the\nmembers of the \u201crevolutionary party\u201d have been treated during the year,\nand of the crimes, sympathy with which on the part of foreign powers is\nso earnestly deprecated by the German government. That extremely active\nagent of Prince Bismarck, the Prussian correspondent of the London\n_Times_, tells the story of the deposition of the Bishop of Paderborn\nby the \u201cEcclesiastical\u201d Court thus: \u201cHe has been sentenced to-day (Jan.\n6) to innumerable fines, chiefly for appointing clergymen without the\nconsent of the secular authorities. [Is this a crime, reverend and right\nreverend gentlemen of the Protestant churches?] Never paying any of\nthese forfeits, he has been repeatedly imprisoned and forcibly prevented\nfrom exercising his functions. [And now for the perversity of the man,\nthe \u201cmalicious but impotent resistance.\u201d] Notwithstanding the measures\ntaken against him, he has continued his opposition to the state. He would\nnot allow his clerical training-schools to be visited by government\ninspectors; he has declined to reappoint a chaplain he had excommunicated\nwithout the consent of the government [What criminals SS. Peter and Paul\nwould be were they living in Germany to-day!]; and he has continually\nissued pastorals and made speeches to deputations breathing the most\nhostile sentiments against crown and parliament [sentiments not quoted].\nHe has received addresses covered with more than one hundred thousand\nsignatures, and on a single day admitted twelve thousand persons to his\npresence, who had come to condole with him on the martyr\u2019s fate he was\nundergoing.\u201d Let it be borne in mind that this is not our description,\nbut that of an agent of the Prussian government. Could words establish\nmore clearly the side on which the criminality lies?\n\nOnly passing mention can be made of events which have been already\nanticipated and commented on. The extension of the civil registration\nof births, deaths, and marriages from Prussia to the whole German\nEmpire passed in January. Perhaps no measure yet has so aroused the\nindignation, not only of Catholics, but of believing Protestants also.\nAs the correspondent already quoted tersely puts the matter: \u201cIn all\nGermany this law does away with the services of the clergy in celebrating\nthe three great domestic events of life.\u201d That is to say, there is no\nlonger need to baptize Christian children in the name of God; there is no\nlonger need of God in the marriage service; finally, as man comes into\nthe world, so he may go out of it, without the name or the invocation of\nGod, without God\u2019s blessing over his grave or the ceremonies of religion\nattending the last act. Like a dog he may come, like a dog he may live,\nlike a dog he may go. And yet this is an evangelical power! Verily,\nbut of a strange evangel. The result of it is shown already. Since the\nPrussian Civil Registration Law was passed, only twenty-five per cent.\nof all Berlin marriages have been celebrated in churches, while only\nthirty per cent. of the children born in the capital have been baptized\nby clergymen.\n\nThe passing of the Landsturm Bill converts the whole German Empire into\nan armed camp. \u201cHenceforth every German sound in wind and limb must be a\nsoldier. From the age of seventeen to forty-two, every man not belonging\nto the army or the reserve is to be liable to be called out in the case\nof an actual or even a threatened invasion,\u201d says the London _Times_. \u201cAt\nthe word of command Germany is arming _en masse_, and the surrounding\nnations--that is, the best part of the world--cannot but do as she does.\u201d\nThey are doing as she does, and all the European powers to-day sleep\nbeside their arms. In face of this fact, what comfort can men take from\nthe meeting and hobnobbing of the crowned heads of Europe here, there,\nand everywhere, or of their assurances of peace? Who is strong enough to\nkeep the peace, who too weak to enkindle war? No man and no people. It\nis this arming and incertitude of one another that alone prevented what\nlocally was so insignificant an affair as the outbreak within the year\nof the Bosnian insurrection against Turkey from lighting a universal\nconflagration. The eagles of the great powers gather around the Turkish\ncarcase. England seizes beforehand on the control of the Suez Canal by\nway of preparing for eventualities, and the Eastern question begins at\nlast to resolve itself into this simple form: not, How shall we uphold\nthe empire? but, How shall we divide the spoils?\n\nThe present rulers of Germany profess to look upon their Catholic\nsubjects as the great foes of the German Empire. The mistake is a fatal\none; for in binding the church they bind the only power that can stop\nthe dry-rot which is slowly eating into the heart, not alone of Germany,\nbut of all nations to-day. That dry-rot is socialism, the first-born of\ninfidelity. That socialism prevails in Germany the rulers of that empire\nknow, and its utterances are as dreaded as an encyclical of the Pope.\nHere are the elements of socialism as pictured by the Cologne _Gazette_\nat the opening of the year: \u201cIn 1874, although the great bubble schemes\nburst in the summer of 1873, and although last year a plentiful harvest\nof corn and wine came to our relief, the consequences of the crisis\nare still felt. Numerous undertakings are depreciated, and even more\nlamentable than the losses of the promoters are the mischievous results\nof the sudden excessive rise in wages, which could not possibly last, the\nluxurious habits, the strikes, and all that these involve on the laboring\nclasses and the whole industrial life of the German nation. Habits of\nindolence and gluttony have been established which it will be hard to\neradicate,\u201d and much more in the same strain.\n\nThis is only a straw showing which way the wind blows. Persecution of the\nchurch has not yet exhausted itself, though, beyond the actual taking of\nlife, it is hard to see what remains to be done. The final measure has\nbeen resorted to of abrogating the articles of the Prussian constitution\nof 1850, which were specially drawn up to provide freedom of religion and\nworship in their fullest sense. Of the attitude of the German Catholics,\nthe prelates, the clergy, and the laity, it is needless to speak. The\nworld has witnessed it; and the very fierceness of the persecution simply\nserves to show forth more gloriously the divinity of the church; for no\nhuman institution could live under it. One result of the persecution has\nbeen the return of a Catholic majority to the Bavarian Parliament. We\nhope for the unity of the German Empire, and its true consolidation; but\nit is not in our hearts to support tyranny, under whatever name, least\nof all when it attacks all that we hold most sacred. The German policy\nmust be totally altered before it can command the sympathy of freemen.\nIt must be totally altered before it can command the respect and full\nallegiance of its subjects, so large and important a section of whom are\nCatholics. The Catholic majority in Bavaria is but one sign of many of\nopposition to the one-sided policy of which Prince Bismarck is the author\nand expounder. Who knows but that the threatened dissolution of an empire\nerected on so false and narrow a basis has not already begun in Bavaria?\nAll the sacrifices made to establish the empire--not the least of which\nwere made by Bavaria--the German chancellor, by his determined and\nsenseless religious persecution, would now seem foolishly to ignore. And\nthese Bavarians, of all the Germans, once aroused, and their religious\nrights infringed upon, are not the men quietly and meekly to subside\nunder opposition.\n\nWe have dwelt more at length upon Germany because it is the centre of the\nstrife that convulses, and threatens to convulse, the world. Other topics\nmust consequently be hastily dismissed.\n\nOf France there is nothing but good to report. After a series of fiery\ndebates in the Assembly, the constitution of a conservative republic\nwas definitively formed and agreed upon towards the end of February.\nThe nomination of councillors of state was given to the President, who\nresigned the nomination of the senators. Of course France is still open\nto surprises, and the various parties seem as unable to coalesce as\never. But there is no question that the government of Marshal MacMahon\nhas deserved well of the country, and, could only a true republic\nbe established in France, it would serve as a safe counter-check to\nthe absolutisms that threaten the east of Europe. The commerce and\nindustries of the country have advanced even on the preceding year,\nthough the imports of 1874 amounted to 3,748,011,000 francs, and the\nexports to 3,877,753,000 francs, these figures being in excess of those\nof any former years. The returns for the Paris savings-banks in 1874\nindicate how the poorer and lower middle classes, who chiefly patronize\nthese establishments, are recovering from the effects of the war and\nthe Commune. The deposits amounted to 14,500,000 francs, while in 1873\nthey were 13,500,000 francs, and in 1872 12,629,000 francs. There is\nevery reason to believe that the ratio of the past year will show a\ncorresponding increase.\n\nWhile the tokens of reviving prosperity are thus encouraging, those of a\nrevival of religious feeling and coming back to the old ways and the old\nfaith among the people at large are not less so. A noble and patriotic\nwork is being accomplished in the rapid formation and spread of Catholic\nWorking-men\u2019s Clubs--a direct offset to the socialism fostered by the\nspirit of irreligion in other places. The part taken by Catholic laymen\nof standing and ability in this work, so full of happy promise, is in\nitself a significant feature, and one that may well be recommended to the\nattention of Catholic laymen all the world over. The pilgrimages to holy\nshrines and to Rome have continued, spite of the laugh of the infidel\nand the scorn of the unbeliever. The solemn consecration of the church\nin Montmartre to the Sacred Heart was one in which the whole world was\ninterested. But the most encouraging measure of all was the obtaining,\nafter a fierce battle between religion and infidelity, of permission to\nfound free universities in France, where students who believe in God\nmight, if they chose, apply themselves to the study of their faith, or\nat least carry on their studies under the divine protection and under\nprofessors who, lacking nothing in intellect, recognize a higher than\nthemselves, whose law they have the courage to recognize and the sense\nand piety to obey.\n\nSurely, France was never so worthy of the esteem and profound respect of\nall the world as it is to-day. What a wonderful vitality is displayed by\nthis Latin-Celtic race! What people could so suddenly recover from what\nseemed so fatal a blow? What other nation would have shown so much wisdom\nand self-control as these Frenchmen, whom the outside world stamped as\n\u201cunstable as water\u201d? Is France to be the leader of the Latin-Celtic\nraces, to conform itself, consistently with its past history and\ntraditions, after a century of throes, into a political form of society\nfitted to its present needs, its future prosperity, and the renewal of\nreligion? God grant that it be so!\n\nEngland, true to its peace policy, still keeps aloof from the troubled\ncurrent of European affairs, beyond its recent move Eastward, which has\nalready been noticed. It steadily refused to accept the invitation of\nRussia to join the International Conference on the Usages of War, which\nin reality resembled a consultation among surgeons before beginning\nto operate on an interesting subject. Mr. Disraeli\u2019s premiership has\nbeen marked by some irritating mistakes, though the securing control of\nthe Suez Canal was undoubtedly a move in the present critical state of\nEastern affairs that compensates for many a blunder--if he can only hold\nthe control. Mr. Gladstone finally retired from the leadership of the\nliberal party, and was nominally succeeded by the Marquis of Hartington.\nThe ex-leader, abandoning a position which, take him all in all, he\nundoubtedly adorned, went paddling in theology and got shipwrecked. The\nGladstone fulminations on \u201cVaticanism\u201d are now a thing of the past, and\nonly afforded another melancholy instance of the facility with which\neven great men can go beyond their depth. The portentous charges against\nthe Pope, the _Curia Romana_, the rusty arsenals, and the rest of the\npapal \u201cproperties\u201d were received by the English people themselves with\nhonest laughter or with passive scorn, until finally Mr. Gladstone lost\nhis temper, and then the world became tired both of him and his \u201crusty\ntools.\u201d\n\nMaterialism is taking deep root in the English mind. The leading organ of\nEnglish opinion, itself highly respectable, but by no means religious,\ncomplained more than once during the year of the general apathy with\nwhich the public regarded the doings of the various convocations and\ngeneral assemblies of the Protestant churches in England. And the success\nwith which the onslaught by such a man as Mr. Gladstone against the\nCatholic Church met with at the hands of Englishmen reveals anew the fact\nthat religious feeling has fallen to so low an ebb in England that even\nthe most eloquent of bigots could not arouse an anti-Popery cry. And\nthis, for England, is the last stage of religious apathy.\n\nIs this again the immediate precursor of a reaction in favor of the true\nchurch in that land for which so many prayers have been offered up, and\nthe blood of so many martyrs has been shed?\n\nIreland has been quiet, calm, and peaceable, and though, in common with\nEngland, suffering from the commercial depression which spread from\nthis country to them, it has shown a strong tendency to advance in\nprosperity. For its peace the Catholic clergy, according to the testimony\nof the London _Times_, and, as we believe, the Home-Rule party, are\njointly answerable. Men who believe in God and obey the laws of the\nchurch will, with honest and able representatives, seek for no heroic\nmeasures of reform, while the legislature is fairly open to complaints.\nThe London _Times_ says that the peaceful record of the year reads like\na fairy tale. Yet the Peace Preservation Acts were renewed, for which\nthe same journal could find no better reason than that \u201cyou cannot\nbreak off abruptly from the past,\u201d and goes on to say: \u201cIt is possible\nthat, if there never had been a resolution to impose upon a conquered\npeople a church which they rejected, and to endow it with the spoils\nto which they remained attached; if there never had been a neglect so\nlittle creditable to our statesmanship as the conditions under which\nagricultural land was held in Ireland; if laws had never been passed to\ndeprive Roman Catholics of political privileges and the right to possess\nproperty; if the attempt had never been made to rule the inhabitants of\nthe sister-island by a hostile garrison, that state of feeling would\nnever have been created which imposes upon the legislature of to-day the\nsad necessity of maintaining an exceptional coercive legislation.\u201d The\nbitterest foe of England could scarcely add one iota to the force of this\nterrible indictment of English legislation in Ireland.\n\nBut we look with all hope to the speedy dispersing of the clouds which\nso long have hovered over this real \u201cisland of saints,\u201d which has done\nso much in the past and promises so much in the future for the spread of\nfaith among the peoples of the earth. More pleasing topics to touch upon\nare the celebration of the centennial of Daniel O\u2019Connell, the fiftieth\nanniversary of the consecration of the venerable Archbishop McHale, and,\nthough last, far from least, the visit to Ireland of Cardinal McCloskey,\nand his reception by Cardinal Cullen and the Irish people. The scene was\nindeed a memorable one; the meeting on a soil consecrated with the blood\nof saints and martyrs--a soil every inch of which could tell a tale of\na struggle of centuries for the faith--of two cardinals of the church\nthat guards the representatives, in their own persons, of the newest and\none of the oldest heritages of the church, and the one Irish by birth,\nthe other Irish by blood. A meeting no less significant was that in\nEngland between the Cardinal of New York and Cardinal Manning, the first\nconvert probably who ever wore the title: a man of indomitable activity,\na fearless asserter of the rights of the church, and always foremost in\nevery movement which aims at the amelioration of the condition of the\nworking classes.\n\nRussia continues her strides in the East, nearing Hindostan, and with\nHindostan the sea, at every step. Despite occasional reverses, her march\nagainst the conflicting tribes and peoples that lie in her path can\nonly be regarded as irresistible. Meanwhile, at home she is eaten up by\nsects and the socialistic spirit that pervades other nations, and which\ntyranny may stifle for a time, but cannot destroy. Again the mistake\noccurs of regarding the Catholic Church as her enemy, and dragooning her\nCatholic subjects with a creed which their consciences reject. Austria\nis engaged in the attempt to set her internal affairs in order, and to\nrecover from the defeat at Sadowa. She finds time, notwithstanding, to\nattack the church, though without the persistent brutality of her German\nneighbor, whose offer to procure a joint interference among the nations\nin the election of the next pope was politely but firmly rejected by\nAustria. In this path Italy also walks. Rejecting the rough hempen cord\nwith which Germany binds and strives to strangle the church, Italy, true\nto her national character, chooses one of silk, which shall do the work\nsoftly and noiselessly, but none the less securely. _Sensim sine sensu._\nThus the Law of Guarantees of 1871, which was founded on Cavour\u2019s maxim\nof \u201ca free church in a free state,\u201d provided for the absolute freedom of\nthe Pope in spirituals. This Germany resents, and early in the year made\nstrong remonstrance with Italy, to see, in plain English, if some plan\ncould not be devised by which the Pope might be muzzled and prevented\nfrom issuing encyclicals and bulls and so forth, save only such as might\nplease the mind of present German statesmen. Italy refused to alter the\nlaw. But now in November we find Minghetti, the president of the Council,\nstating to his electors at Cologna-Veneta that there are defects in the\nlaw of papal guarantees. The church--says that excellent authority, M.\nMinghetti--is the congregation of all the faithful, including, of course,\nM. Minghetti himself. But the state, on whom with the _jus protegendi_\ndevolves also the _jus inspiciendi_, is bound to see that the right of\nthe laity and the interest of the lower clergy be not sacrificed to the\nabuse of papal and episcopal authority. Wherefore, M. Minghetti, urged\nsolely by the desire of seeing that no injustice is done, pledges his\nelectors that he will bring in a bill empowering the laity to reclaim the\nrights to which they are entitled in the government of the church. How\nfar those rights extend, of course, remains to be seen.\n\nThe Holy Father is still spared to us in the full enjoyment of his\nhealth and powers of mind. Pilgrims flock to him in thousands, and the\neyes of the world, friends and foes alike, look with sympathy upon him.\nSurely now is the real triumph of his reign, and in his weakness shines\nforth his true strength. No earthly motives, if ever they affected the\nallegiance of Catholics to him, could affect it now. Yet what does the\nworld witness? As men regard things, a weak and powerless old man,\nruling, from the palace that is his prison, the hearts of two hundred\nmillions of people in the name and by the power of Jesus Christ, whose\nsaintly vicar he is. The Pope, lifted above all entanglements by recent\nevents with the political policy of so-called Catholic countries--his\nvoice, as the head of the church, is heard and respected by all nations\nas perhaps it never was at any other period of time.\n\nSpain opened with a new revolution--the re-entering of Alfonso, the son\nof the exiled queen, to the kingdom and the throne from which she was\ndriven. This being said, the situation remains in much the same condition\nthat it has done for the past two years; if anything, notwithstanding\nsome defections and reverses, Don Carlos has gained in strength and\nboldness. The move that brought in Don Alfonso was a good one, but it\ncame too late.\n\nThe customary chronic revolutions prevail in South America. The\nassassination of Garcia Moreno, the able and good President of Ecuador,\nby members of a secret society, added a unique chapter of horrors and\ndastardly cowardice to the records of these societies, showing that to\naccomplish their purpose they are ready to stab a nation. Garcia Mareno\ndied a martyr to his faith. From a far different cause, though by the\nsame means, died Sonzogno, the editor of the _Capitale_, the trial of\nwhose assassins furnished food for thought as to the force at work in\nregenerated Italy. An event that might have been of great importance was\nthe death of the youthful Emperor of China, which was followed by that of\nhis wife. He was succeeded by a child five years old, and the government\nseems to have passed into the hands of the same men who held it before,\nso that a change for the better towards Christians is scarcely to be\nhoped for, while Christian residents are still exposed at any moment to a\nrepetition of the Tien-Tsin massacre.\n\nWith the year closes the third quarter of the most eventful century,\nperhaps, which the world has yet known, the first century of the\nChristian era alone being excepted. It opened on what Lacordaire has well\ncalled \u201ca wild and stormy morning,\u201d and he would be a bold prophet who\nshould predict a clear sky at the close. A writer of the day describes\nnations within the past year as engaged in \u201ca wild war-dance.\u201d The\nsame is true of the century. Nations seem to have learned nothing, but\nforgotten much. In forgetting the faith that made them whole they have\nforgotten the secret of the elixir of national life. Hence, bitter as the\nstruggle is, a Catholic cannot but hope much in the near future from the\npresent trials of the church. The blows of Germany have crushed shams to\nthe earth, and caused the truth to shine forth resplendent and beautiful.\nWhatever may be this faith that the nations have forgotten, that has been\na mockery among men of the world, it is manifest, at least, that there\nis a profound reality in it, and a vitality that no power on earth can\nhope to destroy. This testimony of strength in weakness, of the purest\ndevotion and loftiest sacrifices that this world can show, if it do\nnothing else, at least brings men to ponder and look back, and compare\nand inquire, and arrive at some conclusions. For the world cannot remain\nan indifferent spectator to a question that is wide as the world. The\nvagaries of belief, the churches with fronts of brass and feet of clay,\nthe parasites and the flatterers who, professing to worship and believe\nin God alone, bow down in secret before the prince of this world, now\nslink away in shame or stand abashed before the unbeliever.\n\nAgain, considering the intensity of the activity of the age, induced\nin a great measure by the facilities of expressing and communicating\nour thoughts, of reaching the uttermost parts of the earth in a\nflash of time--all of which enhances the responsibility of our free\nwill--religion, in view of these facts, will have to keep pace with\nthis activity in order to perform the office for which God established\nit upon earth. That she will do so is as much a matter of certitude\nas her existence; for that same \u201cSpirit which fills the whole earth\u201d\nfinds in her bosom his dwelling-place. The general tendency to material\nscience, and the material interests of nations, which have so wonderfully\nincreased within the century, tend all to obscure the supernatural. But\nthere is nothing to be feared from the advocates of material science.\nThere is no escaping from God in his creation. And these men, in their\nway, in common with the more open persecutors, are preparing for the\ntriumph of the church, and in the providence of God are co-workers in the\nmore complete demonstration of his divine truth.\n\n\nNEW PUBLICATIONS.\n\n    LIFE OF THE APOSTLE S. JOHN. By M. L. Baunard. Translated from\n    the first French edition. New York: The Catholic Publication\n    Society. 1875.\n\nThe life and character of S. John are so beautiful and so closely\nconnected with our Saviour that true believers have always craved to know\nmore about him.\n\nOn the other hand, his testimony is so positive and his language so\nclear that all who blaspheme the divinity of our Lord have sought to\nthrust him and his gospel out of sight. The distinguished French author\nhas a warm personal devotion to S. John, and has devoted himself with\ngreat enthusiasm to the task of collecting all the historical facts\nwhich remain to us as connected with the virgin apostle. His style is\nmanifestly infused with his spirit, and hence the work is one rather of\ndevotion than of cold, scientific dissertation.\n\n\u201cIt is,\u201d says the author in his preface, \u201ca book of doctrine. I address\nit to all those who desire to instruct themselves in the truth of God.\nTruth has no school above that of the Gospel, and nowhere does it appear\nfairer or more profound than in the gospel of S. John.\n\n\u201cIt is a book of piety. I dedicate it to Christians: to priests--the\npriesthood has no higher personification than S. John; to virgins--John\nwas a virgin; to mothers--he merited to be given as a son to the Mother\nof God; to youth--he was the youngest of the apostles; to old men--it\nis the name he gives himself in his epistles. I offer it to suffering\nsouls--he stood beside the cross; to contemplative souls--he was on Mt.\nThabor; to all souls who wish to devote themselves to their brethren, and\nto love them in God--charity can have no purer ideal than the friend of\nJesus.\u201d\n\nIt goes to fill up a most important gap in our English hagiography, and\nwill be greeted with much satisfaction by those desirous of having a\ncomplete series of lives of the saints.\n\n    THE SHIP IN THE DESERT. By Joaquin Miller. Boston: Roberts\n    Brothers. 1875.\n\nThe _ad captandum_ title of this work leads one to look for an Arabian\nromance; whereas the story has scarcely anything to do with it, and is\na very slender story at that. It is difficult to say whether the book\nis worth reading or not; for while, no doubt, it contains passages of\nconsiderable force and beauty, we are quite sure the poet himself does\nnot know half the time what he means. Now, this kind of thing is \u201cplayed\nout.\u201d Far be it from us to accuse the divine Tennyson of straining and\naffectation; but we do say there are peculiarities in his style which\nit is dangerous to imitate. Taken as a model for classic and scholarly\nverse, he has no equal in the English language. But the subjectivism of\nhis \u201cenchanted reverie\u201d may be easily \u201crun into the ground.\u201d Hence he has\ngiven rise (we suspect he is full sore over it) to what may be called the\n\u201cObscurantist\u201d school of poetry. We think this school has had its day.\nWe hope the coming poets will happily combine the faultless diction of\nTennyson with the clear, strong thought of such masters as Milton, Byron,\nand Longfellow.\n\n    THE THREE PEARLS; OR, VIRGINITY AND MARTYRDOM. By a Daughter of\n    Charity. New York: The Catholic Publication Society. 1875.\n\nWe presume this book is meant for a Christmas present. It is admirably\nfitted for that purpose--beautifully printed and tastefully bound. But\nthe contents are still better worth having.\n\nThese \u201cThree Pearls\u201d were indeed \u201cof great price\u201d; three\nvirgin-martyrs--S. C\u00e6cilia, S. Agnes, and S. Catharine of Alexandria.\nNo three saints, perhaps, could have been more happily chosen by the\ngifted author as models for the young Catholic women of the day, and\nparticularly here in America. If it be objected that such heroines are\nnot imitable, the answer is obvious--that the virtues which led them to\nbecome heroines are imitable by all. And, again, the \u201cmodern paganism\u201d\nwith which we are familiar has many features in common with that amid\nwhich they lived.\n\nThere is a prose sketch of each saint, followed by a tribute in verse.\nThe \u201cEditor\u2019s Preface\u201d is from the pen of a learned priest in the Diocese\nof Boston.\n\n    MEDULLA THEOLOGI\u00c6 MORALIS. Auctore Augustino Rohling, S.\n    Theologi\u00e6 et Philosophi\u00e6 Doctore, Monasterii Guestfali\u00e6 in\n    Academia Regia quondam, nunc in Seminario Salesiano prope\n    Milwaukee S. Theologi\u00e6 Professore. Cum permissu Superiorum. St.\n    Ludovici: Excudebat B. Herder, 19 South Fifth Street; et B.\n    Herder, Friburgi, Brisgovi\u00e6. 1875.\n\nThe plan of the author in this work, as is implied in its title, has not\nbeen to write a complete treatise on moral theology, but to furnish a\ncompendium containing the points necessary for confessors in the ordinary\ndischarge of their duties. Desirable as such a book is, there is of\ncourse a difficulty in compiling it, arising from the variety of sound\nopinions on many questions, which cannot all be given without extending\nit beyond the limits which give it its special convenience, and which\nopinions, nevertheless, it is at least expedient that every priest should\nknow. This difficulty is one, therefore, which cannot be overcome, and a\nmanual of this kind can never entirely supply the place of a larger work.\nBut it nevertheless has its use, and, when it is well done, cannot fail\nto be a welcome addition to any theological library.\n\nAnd this book is extremely welcome for it is extremely well done. It is\nvery well arranged; every point of importance is, we believe, given; it\nis clearly written; it is adapted to the times and to this country, and\n(which is a great merit) it is by no means dry. There is a little danger\nin it on this last account, and that is that its superior attractiveness\nmay tend to induce neglect of larger works, and too great confidence in\nstatements which space will not allow the author to modify, as we have\nsaid above.\n\nOne excellent feature of it is the sound and practical advice which it\ncontains, which is almost as important as the statement of theological\nconclusions or of matters of law. It would be worth far more than its\nprice on this account alone.\n\n    THE HISTORY OF THE PROTESTANT REFORMATION IN GERMANY,\n    SWITZERLAND, ENGLAND, IRELAND, SCOTLAND, THE NETHERLANDS,\n    FRANCE, AND NORTHERN EUROPE. Seventh Edition. By the Most Rev.\n    M. J. Spalding, D.D. Baltimore: J. Murphy & Co. 1875.\n\n    THE EVIDENCES OF CATHOLICITY. Sixth Edition. By the Most Rev.\n    M. J. Spalding, D.D. Baltimore: J. Murphy & Co. 1875.\n\nIn the present editions an article on \u201cRome and Geneva\u201d has been added\nto _The History of the Reformation_, and a \u201cPastoral Letter on the\nInfallibility of the Pope\u201d to _The Evidences of Catholicity_--both having\nbeen prepared by the late archbishop with a view to publication in his\ncollective works.\n\nThe same general criticism which we passed in our December number on\nthe revised edition of the _Miscellanea_ will apply to these volumes.\nArchbishop Spalding\u2019s works constitute a very complete armory from which\nto select weapons to meet the opponents of the church in this country;\nthough the writings of European Catholics may be more to the purpose as\nanswers to the misrepresentations urged against her in their respective\nlocalities. And there is no one writer to whom we would with greater\nconfidence refer Protestants who are willing to learn the truth (and we\nwould fain hope there are very many such), as his works relate to so many\nsupposed stumbling-blocks. Whether conscious of it or not, our separated\nbrethren are very blind followers of tradition--accepting unhesitatingly\nthe representations of writers of the last three centuries, while\nfaulting us for adhering to the unbroken traditions of all the Christian\ncenturies. Hence they are accustomed, when unable to reply to our\ndoctrinal arguments drawn from their translation of the Holy Scriptures,\nto fall back on their own version of the religious revolution of the\nXVIth century, and other historical events, the comparative condition of\nCatholic and Protestant countries, etc., etc., all of which are treated\nof at length in these volumes.\n\nAt a time when it is sought to revive the fell spirit of the defunct\nKnow-Nothing party, it is well to refresh our memories by a re-perusal of\nthe writings which were prompted by the previous manifestation.\n\nThe first-named work is at once a history of the Reformation and a review\nof the most prominent books on the same subject, including D\u2019Aubign\u00e9\u2019s\npopular romance. This treatment very much augments the interest with\nwhich we pursue historical inquiries.\n\n    MR. GLADSTONE AND MARYLAND TOLERATION. By Richard H. Clarke,\n    LL.D. New York: The Catholic Publication Society. 1875.\n\nThis able pamphlet will wear a familiar look to our readers, its\nprincipal contents having appeared as an article in our December number.\nThe writer has added biographical sketches of the first and second\nLords Baltimore, the Lawgivers of 1649, and of Father Andrew White, the\nhistoriographer of the expedition which founded Maryland, and who was\nintimately associated with the early fortunes of the colony.\n\nIt was really too bad in Dr. Clarke to deny asylum to the ex-premier on\nour (reputed) hospitable shores, after the relentless logic to which he\nwas subjected at home, when proving so clearly to his own satisfaction\nthe disloyalty of Catholics--to spoil, in fact, his nice little story\nthat it was the Protestants, and not those hateful Catholics, who made\nMaryland a refuge for fugitives from English persecution for conscience\u2019\nsake. And what makes the matter all the more aggravating is that our\nauthor is in league with ever so many Protestants in this design. For\nshame, gentlemen!\n\n    HISTORICAL SCENES FROM THE OLD JESUIT MISSIONS. By the Right\n    Rev. William Ingraham Kip, D.D., LL.D., member of the New\n    York Historical Society [and Protestant Episcopal Bishop of\n    California]. New York: A. D. F. Randolph & Co. 1875.\n\nThe author of this work had the good fortune while in England some years\nsince to secure a copy of _Lettres Edifiantes et Curieuses \u00e9crites des\nMissions Etrang\u00e9res_, in forty-seven volumes, \u201ccontaining the letters\nof the Jesuit missionaries from about 1650 to 1750.\u2026 He selected those\nletters which relate to the labors of the Jesuits within the bounds of\nour own land, and published a translation, with notes, under the title\nof _The Early Jesuit Missions in North America_.\u201d In the present work\nhe takes a wider range, and makes selections, from the same source, of\nletters from parts of the world widely remote from each other--from\nChina and California; from Cape Horn and the far north; from the shores\nof South America and the Mediterranean; from the monasteries of Mount\nLebanon and the Thebaid Desert.\n\nBishop Kip and his publishers have laid both Protestants and Catholics\nunder great obligations by the publication of this valuable and beautiful\nvolume. We can scarcely commend too highly the evident fairness of the\ntranslation and of the accompanying remarks and notes. It could not well\nbe otherwise than that a Protestant should have some qualifications to\noffer respecting statements of fact and doctrine such as would naturally\noccur in these letters; but the Catholic reader will be gratified to\nfind much that is laudatory, and scarcely anything to which he would\nobject; the notes being for the most part historical and philological in\ncharacter. The na\u00efve simplicity of these relations constitutes one of\ntheir chief charms and the best answer to any suggestion of guile on the\npart of the writers.\n\nThe principles and operations of the Jesuits have been, and to a\ngreat extent are still, believed by our Protestant fellow-citizens to\nconstitute a vulnerable point in Catholicity, so that we rejoice at the\nfacilities offered by such writers as Parkman, Shea, and Kip for a better\nunderstanding of the matter. Nothing can give Catholics greater pleasure\nthan that their Protestant friends should have full opportunities for\nstudying our doctrines and history.\n\n    LIFE OF S. BENEDICT, surnamed \u201cThe Moor,\u201d the Son of a Slave.\n    Canonized by Pope Pius VII., May 24, 1807. From the French\n    of M. Allibert, Canon of the Primatial Church of Lyons.\n    Philadelphia: P. F. Cunningham & Son. 1875.\n\nThis volume is a concise and well-written account of a holy life,\nshowing what abundant graces are often bestowed upon the meek and lowly,\nand how those who humble themselves are exalted by Almighty God.\n\nS. Benedict, the child of an enslaved negro parent, was born at\nSanfratello in Sicily, A.D. 1524. Early instructed in religion by his\nparents, he offered himself to God, and became eminent for sanctity as a\nreligious. Seeking always the lowest and most humiliating employments, he\nserved for twenty-seven years as a cook in a convent. Already, during his\nlifetime, regarded as a saint, he was venerated by all classes. \u201cAt the\ndoor of his humble kitchen,\u201d says his biographer, \u201cwere to be seen the\nnobles of Palermo, who sought to honor the saint and recommend themselves\nto his prayers, the learned who came for advice, the afflicted who\ndesired consolation, the sick who hoped for the recovery of their health,\nand the indigent who desired assistance.\u201d\n\nWinning by his wisdom and virtues the confidence of his brethren, he\nwas chosen guardian of the convent, and afterwards vicar, and master of\nnovices--positions which he accepted with extreme reluctance, and in\nwhich he proved his great charity and humility.\n\nBut the more he sought to abase and hide himself, the greater the graces\nbestowed upon him. Though blessed with the spirit of prophecy, the\npower of performing miracles, and the gift of ecstasy, so great was his\nhumility that he again turned to his simple occupation, and retained it\ntill his death, which occurred in 1589.\n\n    THE LIFE AND LETTERS OF PAUL SEIGNERET, Seminarist of S.\n    Sulpice (shot at Belleville, Paris, May 26, 1871). From the\n    French. New York: P. O\u2019Shea. 1875.\n\nThe title of this work can scarcely fail to awaken an interest in the\nyouthful hero who gave his life for his faith--an interest which is\nenhanced by the knowledge that this youth, frail as a girl and possessed\nof a highly-cultivated mind and rare sensibility, was so filled with\nthe spirit of self-sacrifice that he may well be classed with those\n\u201ccourtiers of martyrdom\u201d whose lives are the glory of the church and the\nwonder of the world.\n\nPaul Seigneret\u2019s is a name that must be dear to all Catholics at all\nfamiliar with his saintly life and death. To a heart overflowing with\nlove for all who had claims upon his affection and charity for all\nmankind, and to those quick and delicate perceptions which retain all\nthat is good and instinctively reject all that is evil, was added a\nfervent piety and ardent zeal for the glory of God. Animated by these\nsentiments, he sought the priesthood, and soon turned his thoughts to\nthe cloister--\u201c\u2018that pure and shining height\u2019 whither he would go to fix\nhis dwelling nearer heaven.\u201d While yet a student in the Seminary of S.\nSulpice, he fell a victim to the Commune, and was permitted to win the\ncrown of martyrdom, which had been the object of his most ardent desires.\n\nThe volume before us is one which we would especially recommend to our\nyouthful readers, who will find in it much that is edifying and worthy of\nimitation. In an age in which respect for authority and filial obedience\nare so much ignored, we cannot place too high a value on the example of\nPaul Seigneret, whose devotion and submission to his parents were second\nonly to his love of God.\n\nIf a work so admirable in most respects may be criticised, we would\nsay that it would be quite as interesting if the author had condensed\nthe valuable materials of which it is composed. We are aware of the\ndifficulties under which many translations from the French are made.\nInnumerable things in that versatile, flexible language will bear many\nrepetitions and much minuti\u00e6 in description, which will not admit of more\nthan the simple statement in our unyielding vernacular. Readers should\ntherefore hesitate in pronouncing a book dull because some of the aroma\nescapes in the transition from one medium of thought to another.\n\n    PASTORAL LETTER OF THE RIGHT REV. P. N. LYNCH, D.D., BISHOP\n    OF CHARLESTON, ON THE JUBILEE OF 1875. New York: The Catholic\n    Publication Society. 1875. 8vo, pp. 299.\n\nThe reader will rightly infer from the size of this pastoral that it\ndiffers in many respects from other documents of the kind. The learned\nauthor has taken occasion to enter very fully into the doctrinal and\nhistorical aspects of his subject, thereby making the publication a\nvaluable reference to all who would understand the history and nature of\nthis observance.\n\n\n\n\nTHE CATHOLIC WORLD.\n\nVOL. XXII., No. 131.--FEBRUARY, 1876.\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\nA SEQUEL OF THE GLADSTONE CONTROVERSY.[228]\n\n\u201cIt is wonderful,\u201d wrote Proudhon, \u201chow in all our political questions we\nalways stumble on theology.\u201d Mr. Gladstone will doubtless concur in this\nsentiment; for he cannot take a step without stumbling on the Catholic\nChurch. She is everywhere, and everywhere she is to him a cause of alarm.\nSo potent is her influence growing to be, so cunningly laid are the\nplans by which her policy is directed, so perfect is the organization\nand discipline of her forces, so insidious are her methods of procedure,\nas he would have us believe, that it is full time all Christendom should\nbe warned of the approaching danger. She is in his eyes an ever-present\nmenace to the civilization of the world.\n\nHe at least bears testimony to her power and vitality. She is not a\nrelic of a past age; she lives, and, what is more, it does not seem\nthat she is willing to die. If we consider the various efforts by which\nmen are seeking to weaken and destroy the church, we shall find in them\nno mean evidence of her divine strength. And first of all, in an age\nintellectually most active, she is the subject of universal criticism,\nand is cited before every tribunal of human knowledge to be tried on\nan hundred different and often contradictory counts. Her historical\nrelations with the world, extending over eighteen hundred years and\nco-extensive with Christendom, are minutely examined into by men who,\nshutting their eyes to the benefits which she has conferred upon the\nhuman race, are eager to discover charges against her. She is made\nresponsible for the crimes of those who called themselves Catholics,\nthough she was the first to condemn their evil deeds. The barbarism, the\nignorance, and the cruelty of the middle ages are set to her count, when,\nin fact, she was the chief source of civilization, of enlightenment, and\nof mercy during that period. When she opposes the tyranny of kings,\nshe is called the enemy of the state; when she seeks to restrain the\nlawlessness of the people, she is proclaimed the friend of tyrants.\nAgainst her dogmas and institutions all the sciences are brought to\nbear--astronomy, geology, ethnology, and the others. Not in politics\nalone, but in all the physical sciences, men in our day stumble on the\nCatholic Church.\n\nWe are told that she is the one great spiritual organization which is\nable to resist, and must as a matter of life and death resist, the\nprogress of science and modern civilization. These men profess to find\ninnumerable points of collision between her dogmas and the conclusions\nof science, and are surprised when she claims to understand her own\nteachings better than they, and is not prepared to abandon all belief in\nGod, the soul, and future life because physical research has given men\na wider knowledge of the phenomena of matter. Now we hear objections to\nher moral teaching--that it is too severe, that she imposes burdens upon\nmen\u2019s shoulders too heavy for human nature to bear, that she encourages\nasceticism, celibacy, and all manner of self-denial opposed to the spirit\nof the age and of progress; then, on the contrary, that her morality is\nlax, that she flatters the passions of men, panders to their sensual\nappetites, and grants, for gain, permission to commit every excess.\n\nAt one time we are told that her priests are indolent, immoral,\nignorant, without faith; at another, that they are ceaselessly active,\nastute, learned, and wholly intent upon bringing all men to their own\nway of thinking. Now we are informed that her children cannot be loyal\nsubjects of any government; and immediately after we hear that they\nare so subservient, so passively obedient, that they willingly submit\nto any master. And here we come more immediately upon our subject; for\nwhereas Mr. Gladstone has declared that the loyalty of Catholics is not\nto be trusted, M. de Laveleye asserts that \u201cdespotic government is the\ncongenial government of Catholic populations.\u201d\n\nThe pamphlet from which we quote these words, and which we propose now\nto examine, has been presented to the English-reading public by the\nspecial request of Mr. Gladstone, and has been farther honored by him\nwith a prefatory letter. The author, it is true, takes a fling at the\nChurch of England, and plainly intimates that in his opinion it is little\nbetter than the Catholic Church; but the ex-premier could not forego the\nopportunity of striking his enemy, though he should pierce his dearest\nfriend in giving the blow. He takes the precaution, indeed, to disclaim\nany concurrence in M. de Laveleye\u2019s \u201crather unfavorable estimate of the\nChurch of England in comparison with the other reformed communions.\u201d The\nquestion discussed in the pamphlet before us, as its title implies, is\nthe relative influence of Catholicism and Protestantism on the liberty\nand prosperity of nations; and the conclusion which is drawn is that the\nReformation is favorable to freedom and progress, and that the Catholic\nChurch is a hindrance to both.\n\nThis has long been a favorite theme with Protestants--the weapon with\nwhich they think themselves best able to do good battle in their cause;\nand doubtless it is employed, in most favorable circumstances, in an\nage like ours, in which material progress is so marked a feature that\nits influence may be traced in everything, and in nothing more than in\nthe thoughts and philosophies of the men of our day. It is worthy of\nremark that Protestantism, professing to be a purer and more spiritual\nworship, should have tended to turn men\u2019s thoughts almost exclusively\nto the worldly and temporal view of religion; so that it has become the\nfashion to praise Christianity, not because it makes men humble, pure,\nself-denying, content with little, but rather because its influence is\nsupposed to be of almost an opposite nature. Much stress is laid upon the\nphysical, social, and mental superiority of Christian nations to those\nthat are still pagan, and the inference implied, if not always expressly\nstated, is that these temporal advantages are due to the influence of\nChristianity, and prove its truth and divine origin. Without stopping\nto consider the question whether the material and social superiority of\nChristian nations is to be attributed to their religious faith, we may\nask whether, admitting that this is the case, it may with propriety be\nadduced in proof of the truth of the religion of Christ?\n\nIn the case of individuals no one, certainly, would think of arguing\nthat prosperity proves a right faith, or even consistent practice. To\nhold that wealth and success are evidences of religious life, whatever\nit may be, is certainly not Christianity. Does the teaching of Christ\npermit the rich to lay the unction to their souls that they are God\u2019s\nfavored children? Were they his friends? Did they flock around him? Did\nthey drink in his words gladly? If men who claim to be his disciples\nhave deified worldly success, and made temporal prosperity a sufficient\ntest of the truth of his religion, they cannot plead any word of his in\nexcuse.\n\nHe certainly never paid court to the great, or stooped to flatter the\nrich. Was it not he who said, \u201cWoe be to you rich: ye have received your\nreward\u201d? and again, \u201cIt is harder for a rich man to enter the kingdom of\nheaven than for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle\u201d? Did he not\ntake Lazarus to his bosom when Dives was in hell?\n\n\u201cBlessed are ye,\u201d he said, \u201cwhen men shall revile you, and persecute\nyou, and shall say all manner of evil against you falsely for my sake.\nRejoice and be exceeding glad; for great is your reward in heaven: for so\npersecuted they the prophets which were before you.\u201d\n\nThe preaching of Christ was wholly unworldly. He sternly repressed the\nearthly ambitions of his disciples, and declared that, as the world\nhated him, it would also hate those who believed in him. They would be\noutcasts for his name\u2019s sake; if this life were all, they of all men\nwould be most miserable. Indeed, he rarely speaks of human happiness in\nthe customary sense; he passes over what might be said in favor of this\nlife, and brings out in bold relief its vanity and unsatisfactoriness. He\ndraws no pictures of domestic bliss, and says but little of even innocent\npleasures or those temporal blessings which are so sweet to all; and as\nhe taught that worldly prosperity is no evidence of God\u2019s favor, he was\ncareful to correct the error of those who looked upon misfortune as a\nproof of guilt, as in the case of the man born blind and of those upon\nwhom a tower had fallen.\n\nChrist was poor, his apostles were poor, his disciples were poor,\nnearly all the Christians of the first ages were poor; and yet every\nday we hear men talk as though they considered poverty and Christianity\nincompatible. This is manifestly the opinion of M. de Laveleye. His\nargument may be stated in this way: England and Scotland are rich,\nIreland is poor. The Protestant cantons of Switzerland are rich,\nthe Catholic are poor. \u201cIn the United States,\u201d says De Tocqueville,\n\u201cthe greater part of the Catholics are poor.\u201d In fact, wherever the\ntwo religions exist together, the Protestants are more active, more\nindustrious, and consequently richer than the Catholics.\n\nThis is the substance of what is spread over a dozen pages of the\npamphlet. The conclusion is not difficult to draw: Protestants are richer\nthan Catholics, and therefore better Christians.\n\n\u201cNo man can serve two masters,\u201d said Christ: \u201cyou cannot serve God and\nMammon.\u201d On the contrary, says M. de Laveleye, the success with which you\nworship Mammon is the best proof that you serve God truly. Of course it\nwould be foreign to M. de Laveleye\u2019s purpose to stop to inquire whether\nthe poverty of Ireland be due to the Catholic faith of her people or to\nthe rapacity and misgovernment of England; whether that of the Catholic\ncantons of Switzerland might not be accounted for by the fact that they\nare mountainous, with an inhospitable climate and a barren soil; and\nwhether even M. de Tocqueville\u2019s assertion that the greater part of the\nCatholics of the United States are poor might not be satisfactorily\nexplained by stating that the greater part of them are emigrants who\nhave recently landed upon these shores without a superabundance of this\nworld\u2019s goods.\n\nHe had also good reasons, while treating this part of his subject, for\nnot looking nearer home. He had in Belgium, under his very eye, one of\nthe most thrifty, industrious, and prosperous peoples of Europe, and\nat the same time one of the most Catholic. Why did he not compare the\nwealth of Belgium with that of Sweden or Denmark? Why did he not say a\nword about Catholic France, whose wealth and thrift cannot be denied. He\ndoes, indeed, make mention of two French manufacturing towns, in which,\nhe states, on the authority of M. Audiganne, the capitalists are for\nthe most part Protestants, whilst the operatives are Catholics; though\nwhat this has to do with any debatable question between Catholicism and\nProtestantism is not easily seen.\n\nThe assertion (p. 14) that \u201cwherever the two religions co-exist in the\nsame country the Protestants are more active, more industrious, more\neconomical, and consequently richer than the Catholics,\u201d is not borne\nout by facts. A single example will suffice to show how rash M. de\nLaveleye has been in making so wide an affirmation. The Catholics of the\nRhine Province are universally acknowledged to be among the most thrifty\nand enterprising populations of Prussia, and are far richer than, for\ninstance, the Protestants of Pomerania.\n\nIt would not be difficult, by adopting M. de Laveleye\u2019s mode of\nreasoning, to turn his whole argument on this point against his own\nposition. Whether or not national wealth, we might say, is evidence of\northodox Christian faith, there can be no doubt but that the Christian\nreligion is favorable to even the temporal interests of the lowest and\nmost degraded classes of society. Its doctrines on the brotherhood of the\nrace and the equality of all before God first inspired worthy notions\nof the dignity of man. Then the sympathy which it created for the poor,\nthe suffering, and the oppressed naturally set men to work to devise\nmeans for the relief of human misery. It is to its influence that we\nmust ascribe the abolition of slavery, the elevation of woman, and the\nthousand ministries which in Christian lands attend on the wretched and\nthe weak.\n\nWe must infer that those nations in which this influence is most\npowerful--which, in other words, are most truly Christian--will have, in\nproportion to their population, the smallest class of human beings cursed\nby the worst plague known to modern civilization, bearing with it, as it\ndoes, a threefold degradation, moral, physical, and social. We of course\nrefer to pauperism.\n\nNow, in England, from whose wealth M. de Laveleye would infer the\nsuperiority of her religion, we find that this pauper class, compared\nwith the whole population, is as 1 to 23; whereas in Ireland, which is\npoor--and, according to this theory, for that reason under the ban of\na false religion--there is but 1 pauper to 90 inhabitants; in other\nwords, pauperism is four times more common in England than in Ireland.\nNow, whether we refer this fact to England\u2019s wealth or to England\u2019s\nreligion--and in M. de Laveleye\u2019s opinion they are correlative--our\nconclusion must be either that the influence of the Christian religion,\nwhich necessarily tends to promote the temporal well-being of the most\ndegraded classes of society, is less felt in England than in Ireland,\nor else that national wealth is hurtful to the interests of these same\nclasses, and consequently opposed to the true Christian spirit; and\nin either case we have Catholic Ireland more fairly Christian than\nProtestant England. We would not have our readers think for a moment that\nwe are seriously of the opinion that our argument proves anything at all.\nWe give it merely as a specimen of the way in which the reasoning of this\npamphlet may be turned against its own conclusions, though, in fact, we\nhave done the work too respectably.\n\nWe cannot forget, if M. de Laveleye does, that, of all sciences, the\nsocial--if, indeed, it may be said as yet to exist at all--is the\nmost complex and the most difficult to master. The phenomena which it\npresents for observation are so various, so manifold, and so vast, our\nmeans of observation are so limited, our methods so unsatisfactory, and\nour prejudices so fatal, that only the thoughtless or the rash will\ntread without suspicion or doubt upon ground so uncertain and so little\nexplored.\n\nM. de Laveleye himself furnishes us an example of how easily we may go\nastray, even when the way seems plain.\n\n\u201cSectarian passions,\u201d he writes (p. 11), \u201cor anti religious prejudice\nhave been too often imported into the study of these questions. It\nis time that we should apply to it the method of observation and the\nscientific impartiality of the physiologist and the naturalist. When\nthe facts are once established irrefragable conclusions will follow.\nIt is admitted that the Scotch and Irish are of the same origin. Both\nhave become subject to the English yoke. Until the XVIth century Ireland\nwas much more civilized than Scotland. During the first part of the\nmiddle ages the Emerald Isle was a focus of civilization, while Scotland\nwas still a den of barbarians. Since the Scotch have embraced the\nReformation, they have outrun even the English.\u2026 Ireland, on the other\nhand, devoted to ultramontanism, is poor, miserable, agitated by the\nspirit of rebellion, and seems incapable of raising herself by her own\nstrength.\u201d The conclusion which is drawn from all this, joined with such\nother facts as the late victories of Prussia over Austria and France, is\nthat \u201cProtestantism is more favorable than Catholicism to the development\nof nations.\u201d\n\nWe may as well pause to examine this passage, which, both with regard to\nthe statement of facts and to the interpretation put upon them, fairly\nrepresents the style and method of the pamphlet before us.\n\n\u201cIt is admitted that the Scotch and Irish are of the same origin.\u201d This\nis true, as here stated, only in the sense that both are descended of\nAdam; and hence it would have been as much to the point to affirm that\nall the nations of the earth are of the same origin. The Scots were,\nindeed, an Irish tribe; but when they invaded Caledonia, they found it\nin the possession of the Picts, of whom whether they were of Celtic or\nTeutonic race is still undecided. The power of the Scots themselves\ndeclined in the XIIth century, when Scotland fell under the influence\nof the Anglo-Norman Conquest, and the Celtic population either withdrew\ntowards the north, or, by intermarriage with the conquerors, formed a new\ntype; so that the people of that country are even yet divided into two\ngreat and distinct stocks differing from each other in language, manners,\nand dress.\n\n\u201cUntil the XVIth century,\u201d continues M. de Laveleye, \u201cIreland was much\nmore civilized than Scotland. During the first part of the middle ages\nthe Emerald Isle was a focus of civilization, while Scotland was still a\nden of barbarians.\u201d Now, it was precisely in those ages in which Ireland\nwas \u201ca focus of civilization\u201d that the Catholic faith of her people\nshone brightest. It was then that convents sprang up over the whole\nisland; that the sweet songs of sacred psalmody, which so touched the\nsoul of Columba, were heard in her groves and vales; that the sword was\nsheathed, and all her people were smitten with the high love of holy life\nand were eager to drink at the fountains of knowledge. It was then that\nshe sent her apostles to Scotland, to England, to France, to Germany,\nto Switzerland, and to far-off Sicily; nor did she remit her efforts in\nbehalf of civilization until the invading Danes forced her children to\ndefend at once their country and their faith.\n\nBut let us follow M. de Laveleye: \u201cSince the Scotch have embraced the\nreformed religion, they have outrun even the English.\u2026 Ireland, on the\nother hand, devoted to ultramontanism, is poor, miserable, agitated by\nthe spirit of rebellion, and seems incapable of raising herself by her\nown strength.\u201d\n\nWe cannot think that Mr. Gladstone had read this passage when he\nrequested the author to have his pamphlet translated into English; for\nwe cannot believe that he is prepared to lay the misfortunes of Ireland\nto the influence of the Catholic faith upon her people, and not to the\ncruelty and misgovernment of England.\n\nThe Irish Catholics are reproached with their poverty, when for two\nhundred years the English government made it a crime for them to own\nanything. They are taunted with their misery, when for two centuries\nthey lived under a code which placed them outside the pale of humanity;\nof which Lord Brougham said that it was so ingeniously contrived that\nan Irish Catholic could not lift up his hand without breaking it; which\nEdmund Burke denounced as the most proper machine ever invented by\nthe wit of man to disgrace a realm and degrade a people; and of which\nMontesquieu wrote that it must have been contrived by devils, ought to\nhave been written in blood and registered in hell!\n\nIreland is found fault with because she is agitated with the spirit of\nrebellion, when even to think of the wrongs she has suffered makes the\nblood to boil. Is it astonishing that she should be poor when England,\nwith set purpose, destroyed her commerce and ruined her manufacturing\ninterests, fostering at the same time a policy fatal to agriculture, the\naim of which, it would seem, was to force the Irish to emigrate, that the\nwhole island might be turned into a grazing ground for the supply of the\nEnglish markets?\n\n\u201cWhat a contrast,\u201d further remarks M. de Laveleye (p. 12), \u201ceven in\nIreland, between the exclusively Catholic Connaught and Ulster, where\nProtestantism prevails!\u201d\n\nMr. Gladstone certainly cannot be surprised at this contrast, nor will he\nseek its explanation in the baneful influence of the Catholic Church. He\nat least knows the history of Cromwell\u2019s invasion of Ireland; he has read\nof the massacres of Drogheda and Wexford; he knows the fate of the eighty\nthousand Catholic Irishmen whom Cromwell drove into the ports of Munster,\nand shipped like cattle to the sugar plantations of the Barbadoes, there\nto be sold as slaves; nor is he ignorant of what was in store for those\nIrish Catholics who were still left; of how they were driven out of\nUlster, Munster, and Leinster across the Shannon into Connaught--that is,\ninto the bogs and wild wastes of the most desolate part of Ireland--there\nto die of hunger or cold, or to survive as best they might. Five-sixths\nof the Catholics had perished; the remainder were driven into barren\nConnaught; the Protestants settled on the rich lands of Ulster, Munster,\nand Leinster; and now here comes good M. de Laveleye to find that\nConnaught is poor because it is Catholic, and Ulster is rich because it\nis Protestant. But we must not forget Scotland.\n\n\u201cSince the Scotch,\u201d says M. de Laveleye, \u201chave embraced the reformed\nreligion, they have outrun even the English.\u201d\n\nWe shall take no pains to discover whether or in what respect, or how\nfar the Scotch surpass the English. The meaning of the words which we\nhave just quoted is evidently this: The progress which the Scotch have\nmade during the last three centuries, in wealth and the other elements of\nmaterial greatness, must be ascribed to the influence of the Protestant\nreligion.\n\nTo avoid even the suspicion of unfairness in discussing this part of the\nsubject, we shall quote the words of an author who devoted much time\nand research to the study of the character and tendencies of Scotch\nPresbyterianism, and whose deeply-rooted dislike of the Catholic Church\nis well known:\n\n    \u201cTo be poor,\u201d says Buckle (_History of Civilization_, vol. ii.\n    p. 314), describing the doctrines of the Scotch divines of\n    the XVIIth century--\u201cto be poor, dirty, and hungry; to pass\n    through life in misery and to leave it with fear; to be plagued\n    with boils and sores and diseases of every kind; to be always\n    sighing and groaning; to have the face streaming with tears\n    and the chest heaving with sobs; in a word, to suffer constant\n    affliction and to be tormented in all possible ways--to undergo\n    these things was a proof of goodness just as the contrary was\n    a proof of evil. It mattered not what a man liked, the mere\n    fact of his liking it made it sinful. Whatever was natural was\n    wrong. The clergy deprived the people of their holidays, their\n    amusements, their shows, their games, and their sports; they\n    repressed every appearance of joy, they forbade all merriment,\n    they stopped all festivities, they choked up every avenue by\n    which pleasure could enter, and they spread over the country\n    an universal gloom. Then truly did darkness sit on the land.\n    Men in their daily actions and in their every looks became\n    troubled, melancholy, and ascetic. Their countenance soured and\n    was downcast. Not only their opinions, but their gait, their\n    demeanor, their voice, their general aspect, were influenced\n    by that deadly blight which nipped all that was genial and\n    warm. The way of life fell into the sere and yellow leaf; its\n    tints gradually deepened; its bloom faded and passed off;\n    its spring, its freshness, and its beauty were gone; joy and\n    love either disappeared or were forced to hide themselves in\n    obscure corners, until at length the fairest and most endearing\n    parts of our nature, being constantly repressed, ceased to\n    bear fruit and seemed to be withered into perpetual sterility.\n    Thus it was that the national character of the Scotch was in\n    the XVIIth century dwarfed and mutilated.\u2026 They [the Scotch\n    divines] sought to destroy not only human pleasures, but human\n    affections. They held that our affections are necessarily\n    connected with our lusts, and that we must therefore wean\n    ourselves from them as earthly vanities. A Christian had no\n    business with love or sympathy. He had his own soul to attend\n    to, and that was enough for him. Let him look to himself.\n    On Sunday, in particular, he must never think of benefiting\n    others; and the Scotch clergy did not hesitate to teach the\n    people that on that day it was sinful to save a vessel in\n    distress, and that it was a proof of religion to leave ship\n    and crew to perish. They might go; none but their wives and\n    children would suffer, and that was nothing in comparison with\n    breaking the Sabbath. So, too did the clergy teach that on\n    no occasion must food or shelter be given to a starving man,\n    unless his opinions were orthodox. What need for him to live?\n    Indeed, they taught that it was a sin to tolerate his notions\n    at all, and that the proper course was to visit him with sharp\n    and immediate punishment. Going yet farther, they broke the\n    domestic ties and set parents against their offspring. They\n    taught the father to smite the unbelieving child, and to slay\n    his own boy sooner than to allow him to propagate error. As\n    if this were not enough, they tried to extirpate another\n    affection, even more sacred and more devoted still. They laid\n    their rude and merciless hands on the holiest passion of which\n    our nature is capable--the love of a mother for her son.\u2026 To\n    hear of such things is enough to make one\u2019s blood surge again,\n    and raise a tempest in our inmost nature. But to have seen\n    them, to have lived in the midst of them, and yet not to have\n    rebelled against them, is to us utterly inconceivable, and\n    proves in how complete a thraldom the Scotch were held, and how\n    thoroughly their minds as well as their bodies were enslaved.\u201d\n\nThe XVIIth century, which was the golden age of French literature, and\nalso of the Catholic Church in France, threw almost total darkness over\nScotland, which during that period was most completely under the power of\nProtestantism. The clergy governed the nation; they were the only men of\nreal influence; and yet there was no philosophy, no science, no poetry,\nno literature worth reading. \u201cFrom the Restoration,\u201d says Laing, \u201cdown\nto the Union the only author of any eminence whom Scotland produced was\nBurnet.\u201d\n\nIf the thrift and industry of the Scotch are due to Protestantism,\nto what shall we ascribe the enterprise and commerce of the Catholic\nrepublics of Venice and Genoa during the middle ages?\n\nIf England\u2019s wealth to-day comes from the Reformation, how shall we\naccount for that of Spain in the XVIth and XVIIth centuries? And if the\ndecline of Spain has been brought about by the Catholic faith, to what\ncause shall we assign that of Holland, who in the XVIIth century ruled\nthe seas and did the carrying trade of Europe?\n\nM. de Laveleye\u2019s way of accounting for the prosperity of nations is\ncertainly simple, but we doubt whether it would satisfy any respectable\nschoolboy. Unfortunately for such as he, there is no rule of three by\nwhich social problems may be solved. Race, climate, soil, political\norganization, and many other causes, working through ever-varying\ncombinations, must all be considered if we would understand the history\nof material progress. As labor is the most fruitful cause of wealth,\nthere is a necessary relation between national wealth and national\nhabits, which are the outcome of a thousand influences, one of the most\npowerful of which undoubtedly is religious faith. But who does not know\nthat climate influences labor, not only by enervating or invigorating\nthe laborer, but also by the effect it produces on the regularity of\nhis habits? If the Italian loves the _dolce far niente_, while the New\nEnglander makes haste to grow rich as though some demon whom gold could\nbribe pursued him, shall we find the secret of their peculiar characters\nin their religious faith or in the climate in which they live, or shall\nwe not rather seek it in a combination of causes, physical and moral?\nWe have assuredly no thought of denying the intimate connection which\nexists between faith and character or between a nation\u2019s religion and its\ncivilization. We are willing even to affirm that not only the general\nsuperiority of Christian nations, but their superior wealth also, is in\ngreat measure attributable to their religion. And now, bidding adieu to\nM. de Laveleye for a while, we propose to discuss this subject, to which\nwe have already alluded, somewhat more fully.\n\nChristianity certainly does not measure either the greatness or the\nhappiness of a people by its wealth, nor does it take as its ideal that\nstate of society in which \u201cthe millionaire is the one sole god\u201d and\ncommerce is all in all; in which \u201conly the ledger lives, and only not all\nmen lie.\u201d\n\nWhether we consider individuals or associations of men, the Catholic\nChurch does not hold and cannot hold that material interests are the\nhighest. To be noble, to be true, to be humble, to be pure, is, in her\nview, better than to be rich. Man is more than money, which is good only\nin so far as it serves to develop his higher nature.\n\n\u201cThe whole aim of man is to be happy,\u201d says Bossuet. \u201cPlace happiness\nwhere it ought to be, and it is the source of all good; but the source of\nall evil is to place it where it ought not to be.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is evident,\u201d says S. Thomas, \u201cthat the happiness of man cannot lie\nin riches. Wealth is sought after only as a support of human life. It\ncannot be the end of man; on the contrary, man is its end.\u2026 The longing,\nmoreover, for the highest good is infinite. The more it is possessed,\nthe more it is loved and the more all else is despised; for the more it\nis possessed, the better is it known. With riches this is not the case.\nNo sooner are they ours than they are despised, or used as means to some\nother end; and this, as it shows their imperfect nature, is proof that in\nthem the highest good is not to be found.\u201d\n\nIf wealth is not the highest good of individuals, is it of nations? What\nis the ideal of society? The study of the laws which govern national life\nmust necessarily begin with this question, which all who have dealt with\nthe subject, from Plato to Comte and Mill, have sought to answer. It is\nmanifest that each one\u2019s attempt to solve this problem will be based upon\nhis views on the previous question: What is the ideal of man? This, in\nturn, will be answered according to each one\u2019s notions of the ideal of\nGod; and here we have the secret of the phenomenon which so surprised\nProudhon--the necessary connection between religion and society, theology\nand politics.\n\nIs there a God, personal, distinct from nature? Or is nature the only\ngod, and science her prophet? It is right here at this central point that\nmen are dividing; it is here we must place ourselves, if we would view\nthe two great armies that in all Christendom are gathering for a supreme\nconflict.\n\nThere is a form of infidelity in our day--and it is the one into which\nall unbelief must ultimately resolve itself--which starts with this\nassumption: \u201cWhether or not there is a God must for ever remain unknown\nto man.\u201d It reasons in this way: \u201cThis whole subject belongs within\nthe region, not only of the unknown, but of the unknowable. It is an\ninsoluble riddle, and the philosophies and theologies which have sought\nto unravel it, if only idle, might deserve nothing more than contempt;\nbut they have been the bane of human thought, have soured all the\nsweetness of life, and therefore ought to be visited with the execration\nof mankind. Since religion is a subject about which nothing can be known,\nwhat is so absurd as to spend time upon it? What so absurd as to divert\nthe thoughts of men from subjects in which thinking is fruitful to those\nin which it must for ever remain barren of all except evil results? What\nso absurd as to set them working for a future life, of which we can\nnever know whether it exists at all, when we might at least teach them\nhow to make the present one worth having? The paradise of the future,\nwhich the prophetic eye of science can already descry, is _in_ the world,\nnot _beyond_ it; and to seek to hasten its approach is the highest and\nonly worthy object in life.\u201d As we take it, this is the creed of modern\nunbelief, to which as yet few will openly subscribe, but toward which all\nits hundred conflicting schools of thought are moving. Few men indeed are\nable to perceive the logical outcome of their opinions, and still fewer\nhave the courage to confess what they more than half suspect.\n\nThis superstition is a return to the nature-worship of paganism, but\nunder a different aspect. Of old, nature was worshipped as revealed to\nsense, and now as revealed to thought; then as beautiful, now as true\nor useful. The first was artistic, and form was its symbol; the last is\nscientific, and law is its expression. The religion of humanity is only a\nphase of this worship; for in it man is considered, not as the child of\nGod, but as the product of nature.\n\nAnd now what has this to do with the ideal of society or the wealth of\nnations? At the basis of all social organization lies morality, as it\nis by conduct that both individuals and nations are saved or lost. The\nhistory of the human race shows that religion and morality are intimately\nrelated. That there have been good atheists does not affect the truth\nof this proposition any more than that there have been bad Christians.\nMen are usually better or worse than their principles; practice and\nprofession rarely accord; and this is remarked because it ought not to\nexist.\n\nConduct, to be rational, should be motived, and consequently referable to\ncertain general principles by which it is justified. To be particular, a\nman who believes in God, the Creator, a Father as just as he is good, has\nfundamental motives of action which are wanting to the atheist. The one\nshould seek to approve himself to his heavenly Father; the other cannot\ngo farther than conform to the laws of nature. To the one this life, as\ncompared with that which is to be, is of value only as it relates to it;\nto the other it is all in all. And since the ultimate end of society\nis the welfare of the associated, the one will regard this end from a\ntranscendental point of view, taking in time and eternity; the other will\nconsider it merely with reference to man\u2019s present state. Their notions\nof life, of its ends, aims, and proper surroundings, will be radically\ndifferent.\n\nSuppose for a moment that religious beliefs are mere dreams, fancies of\nsick brains; is it not at once manifest that human life is a much poorer\nand sorrier thing than it is commonly thought to be? As the light of\nheaven fades away, do not all things grow dark, leaving us in the shadow\nof death, despairing or debauched, sullen or frantic? The poet\u2019s dream,\nthe mother\u2019s fond hope, the heart\u2019s deep yearning, the mind\u2019s flight\ntowards the infinite, all become flat, meaningless, and unprofitable. Men\nare simply animals chained to this clod, too happy if the heaven-seeking\neye permitted them to see it alone. Trouble, danger, and physical\npain are the only evils, and virtue is the sharp-sighted prudence\nwhich enables us to avoid them. Self-denial is not only useless, it is\nirrational. Our appetites are good and ought to be indulged. Nothing,\nof its own nature, is sinful; excess alone is wrong; all indulgence,\nprovided it hurt no one, is good--nay, it is necessary. Whoever denies\nany one of his appetites the food it craves cripples himself, is maimed\nand incomplete. \u201cHe may be a monk; he may be a saint; but a man he is\nnot.\u201d\n\nWhen these views are transferred to questions of political economy and\nsocial organization, they lead to materialistic and utilitarian theories.\nSociety must be organized on the basis of positivism; the problem of the\nfuture is how to give to the greatest number of individuals the best\nopportunities of indulgence, the greatest amount of comfort, with the\nleast amount of pain. This is the greatest-happiness principle of Bentham\nand Mill. Culture, of course, intellectual and \u00e6sthetic, as affording the\npurest pleasure, must form a feature of this society; but its distinctive\ncharacteristic is wealth, which is both the means and the opportunity of\nindulgence.\n\n    \u201cWe constantly hear of the evils of wealth,\u201d says Buckle, \u201cand\n    of the sinfulness of loving money; although it is certain that,\n    after the love of knowledge, there is no one passion which has\n    done so much good to mankind as the love of money.\u201d\n\n    \u201cIf we open our eyes,\u201d says Strauss,[229] \u201cand are honest\n    enough to avow what they show us, we must acknowledge that\n    the entire activity and aspiration of the civilized nations\n    of our time is based on views of life which run directly\n    counter to those entertained by Christ. The ratio of value\n    between the here and the hereafter is exactly reversed; and\n    this is by no means the result of the merely luxurious and\n    so-called materialistic tendencies of our age, nor even of its\n    marvellous progress in technical and industrial improvements.\u2026\n    All that is best and happiest which has been achieved by us\n    has been attainable only on the basis of a conception which\n    regarded this present world as by no means despicable, but\n    rather as man\u2019s proper field of labor, as the sum total of the\n    aims to which his efforts should be directed. If, from the\n    force of habit, a certain proportion of workers in this field\n    still carry the belief in an hereafter along with them, it\n    is nevertheless a mere shadow, which attends their footsteps\n    without exercising any determining influence on their actions.\u201d\n\nThis is the cosmic religion, which is preached as \u201cthe new faith, the\nreligion of the future.\u201d This world is all in all--let us make the most\nof it; or, as the pagans of old put it: \u201cLet us eat and drink, for\nto-morrow we die.\u201d\n\nIn its essence it is sensualism; in its manifestations it will be refined\nor coarse, according to the dispositions of the persons by whom it is\naccepted. Now its worship will be accompanied with music and song and\ndance; at other times it will sink to those orgies in which man becomes\nonly an unnatural animal.\n\nLet us now turn to the Christian religion, and consider its teachings\nin their bearing upon the subject we are discussing. They are the very\nopposite of those which we have just read, and proceed from principles\nwhich are in direct contradiction to the cosmic philosophy. God is the\nhighest, the Creator of all things, which are of value only as they\nrelate to him and are in harmony with the laws of his being. The earth\nis but the threshold of heaven or of hell, as the case may be. This life\nis a preparation for a future one, which is eternal; and all human\ninterests, whether individual or social, to be rightly understood, must\nbe viewed in their relation to this truth. Man is essentially a moral\nbeing, and duty, which is often in conflict with pleasure, is his supreme\nlaw. He is under the action of antagonistic forces; seeing the better\nand approving it, he is drawn to love the worse and to do it. Thus\nself-denial becomes the condition of virtue, and warfare with himself his\nonly assurance of victory.\n\n\u201cBut he said to all: If any one wishes to come after me, let him deny\nhimself, take up his cross every day, and follow me.\u201d\n\nWealth, which is the world\u2019s great slave and idol, and universal\nprocurator of the senses, though in itself not evil, is yet a hindrance\nto the highest spiritual life. \u201cIf thou wouldst be perfect, go sell what\nthou hast, and give it to the poor, and thou shall have treasure in\nheaven: and come and follow me.\u201d\n\nAs duty is the supreme law of the individual, it follows that we must\nseek the ideal of society in the moral order, to which all other social\ninterests should be made subservient, or else they will beget only an\nunbounded and lawless activity. Even education is valuable only in so far\nas it gives man a deeper sense of his responsibility to God, and enables\nhim more thoroughly to understand and perform his duty.\n\nThe social problem as between Christianity and modern paganism may\nbe stated in this way: is it the end of society to grow strong in\nvirtue through self-denial, or to increase indefinitely the means and\nopportunity of indulgence? On which side is progress, on which decline?\n\nWe cannot now go farther into this subject, but before leaving it we\nwish to quote the words of Fitzjames Stephen, who will hardly be called a\nChristian, on modern progress.\n\n    \u201cI suspect,\u201d he says,[230] \u201cthat in many ways it has been\n    a progress from strength to weakness; that people are more\n    sensitive, less enterprising and ambitious, less earnestly\n    desirous to get what they want, and more afraid of pain, both\n    for themselves and others, than they used to be. If this should\n    be so, it appears to me that all other gains, whether in\n    wealth, knowledge, or humanity, afford no equivalent. Strength,\n    in all its forms, is life and manhood. To be less strong is\n    to be less a man, whatever else you may be. This suspicion\n    prevents me, for one, from feeling any enthusiasm about\n    progress, but I do not undertake to say it is well founded.\u2026 I\n    do not myself see that our mechanical inventions have increased\n    the general vigor of men\u2019s characters, though they have no\n    doubt increased enormously our control over nature. The greater\n    part of our humanity appears to me to be a mere increase of\n    nervous sensibility in which I feel no satisfaction at all.\u201d\n\nThe general superiority, and even the greater wealth, of Christian\nnations as compared with others we would attribute, in great part at\nleast, to the influence of their religious faith, to which they owe their\nsentiments on the dignity and sacredness of human nature in itself, apart\nfrom surroundings; on the substantial equality of all men before God,\nwhich tends to produce as its counterpart the equality of all before the\nlaw, thus leading to the abolition of slavery, the elevation of woman,\nand the protection of childhood. To it also they owe their ideas on the\nfamily, which, in its constitutive Christian elements, lies at the very\nfoundation of our civilization. To Christianity they owe the principles\nof universal charity and compassion, which have revolutionized the\nrelations of social life; and, finally, to it they are indebted for the\nrehabilitation of labor, the chief source of wealth, which the pagan\nnations looked upon as degrading.\n\n\u201cI cannot say,\u201d writes Herodotus, \u201cwhether the Greeks get their contempt\nfor labor from the Egyptians; for I find the same prejudice among the\nThracians, the Scythians, the Persians, and the Lydians.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe Germans,\u201d says Tacitus, \u201ccannot bear to remain quiet, but they love\nto be idle; they hold it base and unworthy of them to acquire by their\nsweat what they can purchase with their blood.\u201d In the same way the Gauls\nlooked upon labor with contempt.\n\nWe shall have to take up M. de Laveleye\u2019s pamphlet again; for the present\nwe lay it aside with the following remark: If we should grant, to the\nfullest, all that is here said about the greater wealth and material\nprosperity of Protestant as compared with Catholic nations what are we\nthence to conclude? Shall we say that the greed of gain which is so\nmarked a feature in the populations of England and the United States\nis at once the result and proof of true Christian faith? May it not be\nbarely possible that the value of material progress is exaggerated? Is\nthere not danger lest, when man shall have made matter the willing slave\nof all his passions, he should find that he has become the creature\nof this slave? However this may be, might not a Catholic find some\nconsolation in the words of Holy Writ?\n\n    \u201cAnd the angel that spoke in me, said to me: Cry thou, saying,\n    Thus saith the Lord of hosts: I am zealous for Jerusalem and\n    Sion with a great zeal. _And I am angry with a great anger with\n    the nations that are rich_; for I was angry a little, but they\n    helped forward the evil.\u201d\n\nTO BE CONTINUED.\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 XII.\n\nTHE BARONET IS RELIEVED.--A CASE OF MISTAKEN IDENTITY.\n\nThe night was wild and stormy. The wind had risen to a hurricane, and\ndrove the rain in Raymond\u2019s face as he walked home through the park.\nIt was driving the grass in cold ripples over the fields, and tossing\nthe trees about as if it would break them. Columns of black clouds were\ntrooping over the sky, and the moon broke through them as if she were\npursued by the wind and flying for her life. Raymond was a long time\ngetting to the cottage. Great gusts swept up from the valley, staggering\nhim, so that he had to stand every now and then and cling to a tree until\nit passed. Then the rain beat against his face so that he could hardly\nprofit by the fitful gleams of the moon as she dipped in and out of the\nclouds. He was dripping wet when he got to his own door and let himself\nin with his latch-key. He took off his coat, hanging it in the hall, and\nlighted his candle. Franceline had left it close to his hand with a match.\n\nMechanically he walked up to his room and began to divest himself of his\ndrenched clothing. He hardly noticed that they were soaking and that he\nwas wet through; he was flushed and heated as if he had come straight\nfrom a hot room. How the blast roared and shrieked, beating against the\ncottage till it rocked like a ship at sea, and trying the windows till\nthey cracked and groaned! It whistled through the chinks so that the\nflimsy red curtain fluttered as if the window had been open. Raymond\npushed it aside and opened the shutters, and looked out. The night was\ninky black, above and below, except when a star flickered in and out like\na gas-jet swept by the wind, and showed the river like a bit of steel,\nas it flashed and quivered under the pelting rain and hurried away into\nblacker distance. All this angry roar was better than music to Raymond.\nThe fury of the elements seemed to comfort him. Nature was in sympathy\nwith him. It was kind of her to be angry and disturbed when he was so\ndistraught. Nature had more heart than his fellow-men. These were talking\nover his despair quietly enough now--mocking him, very likely; but the\nworld around was shaken, and tossed, and driven in sympathy with him. A\ngreat gust came swelling up from the river, growing louder and heavier\nas it drew near, till, gathering itself up like a mountainous wave,\nit burst with a crash against the cottage. M. de la Bourbonias leaped\nback, and, with a sudden impulse of terror, flew out into the landing,\nand knocked at Ang\u00e9lique\u2019s door; but the sonorous breathing of the old\nservant reassured him that all was right there and in the room beyond.\nIt was pitch dark, but the reflection from his own open door showed\nFranceline\u2019s standing wide open. He listened, but everything was silent\nthere. He stole noiselessly back to his room and closed the door, without\ndisturbing either of the sleepers.\n\nThe storm had reached its crisis, and gradually subsided after this,\nuntil the wind was spent and died away in long, low wails behind the\nwoods, and the moon drifted above the tattered clouds that were sweeping\ntoward the east, leaving a portion of the sky stainless, with stars\nflashing out brightly. Raymond put out his candle and went to bed.\n\nUnder ordinary circumstances he would probably have paid for the night\u2019s\nadventure by an attack of bronchitis or rheumatic fever; but the mental\nfever that had been devouring him warded off every other, and when he\ncame down next morning he was neither ill nor ailing.\n\nFranceline, like her _bonne_, had slept through the storm, and they were\nquite astonished to hear what an awful night it had been, and to see the\nfields strewn with great branches in every direction, gates torn up, and\nother evidences of the night\u2019s work. But they saw no traces of another\ntempest that was raging still in a human soul close by them. Nothing\nbetrayed its existence, and they guessed nothing--so securely does this\nliving wall of flesh screen the secrets of the spirit from every outside\ngaze! Passions rise up in hearts whose pulses we fondly imagine close\nand familiar to us as our own, and the winds blow and the waves run high\nand make wild havoc there, turning life into darkness and despair, or,\nat the whisper of the Master\u2019s voice, illuminating it as suddenly with a\nflood of sunshine; and we are blind and deaf to these things, and remain\nas \u201ca stranger to our brother.\u201d And mercifully so. Many a battle is won\nthat would have been lost if it had not been fought alone. We hinder each\nother by our pity, perhaps, as often as we help.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nSir Simon had very little appetite for his breakfast when he came down\nnext morning, sick at heart after a sleepless night, and found the\npleasant meal thoughtfully spread in his favorite room, the library, with\nthe table wheeled close to his arm-chair on the right side of the hearth.\nIt all looked the very picture of comfort and refinement and elegance.\nBut the cup was doubly poisoned to him now; last night\u2019s adventure had\nadded the last drop of bitterness to it. He could not think of Raymond\nwithout a poignant pang. He suspected--and he was right--that Raymond\nwas thinking of him, wondering whether it was really all over with him\nthis time, and whether he was bankrupt and his estate in the fangs of\nthe creditors; and whether he was driving away from the Court never to\nsee it again; or whether once more, for the hundred and ninety-ninth\ntime, he had weathered the storm and was still afloat--even though on a\nraft. Raymond would have scarcely believed it if any one had informed him\nthat he had been the instrument of destroying Sir Simon\u2019s one chance of\nescape; that he had snatched the last plank from him in his shipwreck.\nIt may have been an imaginary one, and Sir Simon, after the fashion of\ndrowning men, may have been catching at a straw; but now that it was\nsnatched from him, he was more than ever convinced that it had been a\nsolid plank which would have borne him securely to shore. He did not\nask himself whether Mr. Plover would have entered into his plans, and\nwhether, supposing he found it his interest to do so, his fortune would\nhave been equal to the demand; he only considered what might have been,\nand what was not; and thinking of this, his indulgent pity for M. de la\nBourbonais shrank in the bitter reflection that he had ruined not only\nhimself but his friend irretrievably. They were pretty much in the same\nboat now.\n\nSir Simon\u2019s self-made delusions had cleared away wonderfully within\nthe last forty-eight hours. He drew no comparison to his own advantage\nbetween Raymond\u2019s actual position and his own. If M. de la Bourbonais\nwas a thief in the technical sense of the word, he, Sir Simon, was a\nbankrupt; and a bankrupt, under certain conditions, may mean a swindler.\nHe had been a swindler for years; his life had been a sham these twenty\nyears, and he had not the excuse of circumstances to fall back on; he\nhad been dishonest from extravagance and sheer want of principle. \u201cTake\nit first and afford it afterwards\u201d had been his theory, and he had lived\nup to it, and now the day of reckoning had arrived. Many a time he had\nsaid, half in jest, that Raymond was the richer man of the two. Raymond\nused to laugh mildly at the notion, but it was true. An ambitious,\nextravagant man and a contented poor one are pretty much on a level: the\none possesses everything he does not want; the other wants everything\nhe does not possess. The unprincipled spend-thrift and the high-minded,\nstruggling man were then on an equality of fortune, or rather the latter\nwas virtually the wealthier of the two. But now the distinction was\nwashed out. The proud consciousness of unstained honor and innermost\nself-respect which had hitherto sustained M. de la Bourbonais and\nsweetened the cup of poverty to him was gone. He was a blighted man, who\ncould never hold up his head again amongst his fellow-men.\n\n\u201cGood God! what delirium possessed him? How could he be so infatuated, so\nstupid!\u201d broke out Sir Simon, giving vent to what was passing through his\nmind. \u201cBut,\u201d he added presently, \u201che was not accountable. I believe grief\nand anxiety drove him mad.\u201d Then he recalled that answer of Raymond\u2019s,\nthat had sounded so untrue at the time: \u201cYes, I can fancy myself giving\nway, if the temptation took a certain form, and if I were left to my own\nstrength.\u201d The words sounded now like a prophecy.\n\nOf course we all know that, according to the canons of poetical justice,\nthe brave, suffering man should have been in some unexpected way succored\nin his extremity; that some angel in visible or invisible form should\nhave been sent to hold him up from slipping into the pit that despair had\ndug for him; and that, on the other hand, the wicked spendthrift should\nhave been left to eat the bread of righteous retribution, and suffer the\njust penalty of his evil behavior. But poetical justice and the facts of\nreal life do not always agree.\n\nSir Simon, after walking up and down the library, chewing the cud of\nbitter thoughts until he was sick of it, bethought himself that as\nbreakfast was there he might as well try and eat it before it got cold.\nSo he sat down and poured out his coffee, and then, by mere force of\nhabit, and without the faintest glimmer of interest, began to turn over\nthe bundle of letters piled up beside the _Times_ on the table. One\nafter another was tossed away contemptuously. The duns might cry till\nthey were hoarse now; he need not trouble about them; he would be at\nleast that much the gainer by his disgrace. Suddenly his eye lighted on\nan envelope that was not addressed in the well-known hand of the race\nof duns, but in Clide de Winton\u2019s, and it bore the London postmark. The\nthought of Clide generally produced on Sir Simon the effect of a needle\nrun through the left side; but he took up this letter with a strange\nthrill of expectation. He opened it, and a change came over his face;\nit was not joy--it was too uncertain, too tremulous yet for that. He\nmust read it again before he trusted to the first impression; he must\nmake sure that he was not dreaming, and the words that danced like a\nwill-o\u2019-the-wisp before his eyes were real, written with real ink, on\nreal paper. At last he dropped the letter, and a heartier prayer than he\nhad uttered since his childhood came from him: \u201cMy God, I thank thee! I\nhave not deserved this mercy, but I will try to deserve it.\u201d\n\nHe buried his face in his hands, and remained mute and motionless for\nsome minutes. Then, starting up as if suddenly remembering something, he\npulled out his watch. It wanted five minutes of ten. The law officer and\nthe Jew creditor were to start by the train that left Charing Cross at a\nquarter past eleven. Sir Simon rang the bell sharply.\n\n\u201cSaddle a horse, and ride as fast as you can with this to the telegraph,\u201d\nhe said to his valet, who answered the summons; \u201cand the moment you come\nback, get ready to be off with me to London by the mid-day train.\u201d\n\nThe telegram prepared Mr. Simpson to see his client appear at his office\nat two o\u2019clock that afternoon, and, in obedience to its directions, the\nJew was there to meet him. Clide de Winton had seen Simpson the day\nbefore, and given him full authority to settle the Dullerton debts so\nas to set Sir Simon Harness free. He had only arrived in London that\nvery morning, and it was the merest accident that led him to call on\nthe family lawyer, who was also the family\u2019s best friend, on his way\nfrom the station to his hotel. Simpson was discretion itself, and one of\nthe attributes of that virtue is to know when to be indiscreet. Clide\u2019s\nfirst inquiry was for Sir Simon, with a view--which the astute lawyer\ndid not see through--of leading up to inquiries about other friends at\nDullerton; whereupon Mr. Simpson bolted out the whole truth, told him of\nthe baronet\u2019s position, the long arrears of debt that had come against\nhim, and which were to culminate in bankruptcy within twenty-four hours.\nIt was as if the sky had fallen on Clide, or the ground opened under his\nfeet.\n\n\u201cThank goodness I am come in time!\u201d he exclaimed; and there and then sat\ndown and wrote to Sir Simon, telling him that proceedings were stopped,\nand that he, Clide, took them in his own hands.\n\n\u201cAnd this is what you call being a friend!\u201d said the young man, as he\nand the baronet left Simpson\u2019s office together, the one with a lightened\npurse, the other with a heart considerably more so. \u201cTo think of your\nletting things go to such lengths, and that if I had been a day later it\nwould have been all over!\u201d\n\n\u201cMy dear boy! what can I say to you? How can I ever repay you?\u201d\n\n\u201cBy forgiving me. I\u2019ve lived long enough to find out a secret or two.\nOne is that it requires a very noble soul to forgive a man a money\nobligation, and that there is a deal more generosity in accepting than\nin conferring it. So if you don\u2019t pick a quarrel with me after this, and\nturn your back on me, we are quits. Is it a bargain?\u201d\n\nHe held out his hand, laughing; Sir Simon wrung it till the pressure made\nClide wince. This was his only answer, and the only sentimental passage\nthe occasion gave rise to between them.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nIt was more than a month since Clide had left St. Petersburg, although\nthe season was still at its height there, and Isabel\u2019s engagement was to\nhave lasted until the end of it. This had, however, been brought to an\nabrupt and tragic close. She had acted for six weeks with unprecedented\nsuccess; every night was a fresh triumph, and nothing was talked of in\nthe _salons_ and clubs but the wonders of her voice, the intense reality\nof her acting, and her rare beauty. Ophelia was considered her grandest\npart. She was playing it one evening to a crowded house, in the presence\nof the imperial family and the whole court, and seemed wrought up to a\npitch of power and pathos that surpassed her finest preceding efforts.\nShe was singing the mad scene with melting tenderness; the house was\nbreathless, hanging enraptured on every note, when suddenly the voice\nceased, the prima donna cast a wild look on every side of her, and then,\nwith a shriek too terribly real to be within the compass of art, she\nflung her arms over her head, and, clasping her hands, fell insensible to\nthe ground. Never did any opera-house witness so dramatic a scene. The\nspectators rose in a body from the pit to the gallery, shouting to know\nwhat had happened, and calling for help. Help was near enough. A man in\nplain clothes sprang from behind the scenes, and lifted the prostrate\nOphelia before any of the actors could interfere. There were several\nmedical men among the audience, and they rushed in a body to offer\ntheir services. It was feared for a moment that she was dead; but the\ndoctors soon pronounced it to be only a swoon, though it was impossible\nto say what might follow on the awakening. The emperor sent one of his\nchamberlains to hear and see what was going on in the green-room, and\ninquire if the piece was to be continued; whereupon the luckless manager\nflew out before the footlights, and falling on his knees under the\nimperial box, as if he saw the knout suspended over his shoulders, called\nheaven to witness that he was a loyal subject and an innocent man, and\nflung himself on the imperial clemency. The prima donna had been seized\nwith illness, and the opera could not be finished that night. The czar\nwaved his clemency to the terrified man, who withdrew, invoking all\nmanner of benedictions on the mercy of the Father of all the Russians,\nand flew to hear what the doctors were now saying of Ophelia. They were\nsaying that she was acting out her part as it had never yet been acted,\nwith the perfection of nature--she was raving mad.\n\nThis was not proclaimed at once. The affair was hushed up for a few days,\nand kept out of the newspapers, so that Clide only heard it accidentally\nat the club, where he happened to lounge in a week after the occurrence.\nHe sent Stanton off at once to make inquiries at the house where Isabel\nlodged. But they could tell nothing of her there; she had been taken away\nthe day after her seizure at the opera, and had left no address. Clide\nwent straight to the lawyer, and asked if there was no way of getting\naccess to her through the police; of learning at least whether she was\nin an asylum; for his first idea on hearing that she had been taken away\nwas that they had placed her in some such confinement. The lawyer agreed\nwith him that this was most probable, but did not promise much help in\nverifying the supposition. He seemed honestly willing to do what he could\nin the matter, but repeated the old warning that little could be done\nwhere imperial favor stood in the way. It was highly probable that the\nczar would still show his benevolence toward the beautiful artist by\nscreening her hiding-place and the fact of her being mad, in hope of her\nbeing able to return and complete her engagement after rest and medical\ntreatment.\n\nHis position now seemed worse to Clide than it had ever been. The thought\nof Isabel\u2019s being in a mad-house, a prey to the most awful visitation\nthat humanity is subject to, rudely, perhaps cruelly, treated by coarse,\npitiless menials, was so horrible that at first it haunted him till he\nalmost fancied he was going mad himself. The image of the bright young\ncreature who had first stirred the pulses of his foolish heart was for\never before his eyes as she appeared to him that day--how long ago it\nseemed!--in the midst of the splendors of Niagara, and that he took her\nfor a sprite--some lovely creature of the water and the sunlight. He\nremembered, with a new sense of its meaning, the strange air she wore,\nwalking on as if half unconscious he had wondered if she were not walking\nin her sleep. Was it a phase of the cruel malady that was then showing\nitself? And if so, was she not, perhaps, blameless from the beginning?\nThis blight that had fallen on her in her brilliant maturity might have\nbeen germinating then, making strange havoc in her mind, and impelling\nher character, her destiny, to fearful and fantastic issues. Some weeks\npassed while Clide was a prey to these harrowing thoughts, when he\nreceived a letter from the lawyer, saying he had something to communicate\nto him of interest.\n\n\u201cIt is not good news,\u201d he said, as the Englishman entered his office;\n\u201cbut it is better than complete suspense. The signora is not in St.\nPetersburg. All our researches were useless from the first, as she was\ncarried off almost immediately to a lunatic asylum in Saxony.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd she is there still?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes; and she has been admirably treated with the utmost skill and care,\nso much so that it is expected she will be quite restored after a short\nperiod of convalescence.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow did you ascertain all this?\u201d inquired Clide.\n\n\u201cThrough a client of mine who has been for some time a patient of the\nestablishment. He left it very recently, and came to see me on his\nreturn, and in talking over the place and its inmates he described one\nin a way that excited my suspicions. I wrote to the director, and put a\nfew questions cautiously, and the answer leaves me no doubt but that the\npatient whom my client saw there a few days before his departure was the\nlady who interests you.\u201d\n\n\u201cDid you hear who accompanied her to Saxony?\u201d\n\n\u201cMy client saw a person walking in the grounds with her once, and\nfrom the description it must be the same who travelled with her from\nEngland--her uncle, in fact: a middle-sized man with coal-black hair and\nvery white teeth; \u2018decidedly an unpleasant-looking person\u2019 my client\ncalled him.\u201d\n\n\u201cStrange!\u201d murmured Clide. \u201cThat description does not tally with my\nrecollection of the man who called himself her uncle, except that he had\na forbidding countenance and was of medium height. He had a quantity of\ngray, almost white, hair, and not a sound tooth in his head.\u201d\n\n\u201cHumph! White hair may turn black, and new teeth may be made to replace\nlost ones,\u201d observed the lawyer. \u201cI would not be put off the scent by\nchanges of that sort, if the main points coincided.\u201d\n\n\u201cVery true. I must start at once, then, for Saxony, and try and see\nfor myself. I shall have difficulty in gaining the confidence of the\ndirectors of the place, I dare say. Can you help me by a letter of\nintroduction to any of them?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes; I am well known to the principal medical man by name, and I will\ngive you a line to him with pleasure.\u201d\n\nHe wrote it, and shook hands with his client and wished him good-speed.\n\nClide travelled without halting till he drove up to the door of the\nasylum. His letter procured him admittance at once to the private room\nof the medical man, and, what was of greater importance, it inclined\nthe latter to credit his otherwise almost incredible story. When Clide\nhad told all he deemed necessary, the doctor informed him that the\npatient whom he believed to be his wife had already left the house and\nthe country altogether; she had spent three full weeks under his care,\nand was then well enough to be removed, and had, by his advice, been\ntaken home for the benefit of native air. It was just three days since\nshe had left Saxony. The doctor could give no idea as to where she had\ngone, beyond that she had returned to England; he knew nothing of the\nwhereabouts of her native place there, and her uncle had left no clue to\nhis future residence.\n\nClide was once more baffled by fate, and found himself again in a\ndead-lock. In answer to his inquiries concerning the nature of Isabel\u2019s\ndisease, the medical man said that it was hereditary, and therefore\nbeyond the likelihood--not to say possibility--of radical cure. This, it\nseemed, was the third attack from which she had suffered. The first was\nin early girlhood, before the patient was eighteen; the second, somewhat\nlater and of much longer duration--it had lasted six years, her uncle\nsaid; then came the third crisis, which, owing, perhaps, to the improved\ngeneral health of the patient, but more probably to the more judicious\nand enlightened treatment she had met with, had passed off very rapidly.\nIt was, however, far from being a cure. It was at best but a recovery,\nand the disease might at any moment show itself again in a more obstinate\nand dangerous form. Perfect quiet, freedom from excitement, whether\nmental or physical, were indispensable conditions for preserving her\nagainst another crisis. It was needless to add after this that the career\nof an actress was the most fatal one the unfortunate young woman could\nhave adopted. But in that, no doubt, she was more passive than active.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nWith this new light on his path, Clide hastened his return to England,\nfarther than ever, it seemed, from his journey\u2019s end, and laden with a\nheavier burden than when he set out. March! march! was still the command\nthat sounded in his ears, driving him on and on like the Wandering Jew,\nand never letting him get nearer the goal.\n\nHe had not the faintest idea of Isabel\u2019s native place. She had told him\nshe was Scotch, and her name said so too, though she was perfectly free\nfrom the native accent which marked her uncle\u2019s speech so strongly. But\nwhat did that prove either way? Was Cameron her name, or Prendergast his?\nHe had taken a new name in his travels, and so had she. Still, feeble as\nthe thread was, it was the only one he had to guide him; so he started\nfor Scotland as soon as he landed in England, having previously taken the\nprecaution to acquaint the police in London with his present purpose,\nand what had led him to it. If Isabel were sufficiently recovered to\nappear again in public, it was probable that the brutal man--who was in\nreality no more than her task-master--would have made some engagement for\nher with a manager, and she might at this moment be singing her brain\naway for his benefit in some provincial theatre. It was clear he shunned\nthe publicity of the London stage. Clide thought of these things as he\ntramped over the purple heather of the Highlands, following now one\nmirage, now another; and his heart swelled within him and smote him for\nhis angry and vindictive feelings toward Isabel; and tears, that were\nno disgrace to his manhood, forced themselves from his eyes. Poor child!\nShe was not to blame, then, for wrecking his life, and coming again like\nan evil genius to thrust him back into the abyss just as he had climbed\nto safety, beckoned onwards and upwards by another angel form. She was a\nvictim herself, and had perhaps never meant to deceive or betray him, but\nhad loved him with her mad, untutored heart as well as she knew how.\n\nThe winter days dragged on drearily, as he went from place to place in\nScotland, and found no trace of the missing one, heard nothing that gave\nhim any hopes of finding her. The police were equally unsuccessful in\nLondon. Stanton had gone back there, very much against his inclination;\nbut Clide insisted that he would be of more use in the busy streets,\nkeeping his keen eyes open, than following his master in his wanderings\nup and down Scotland.\n\nOne dark afternoon the valet was walking along Regent Street, when he\nstopped to look at some prints in a music-shop. The gas was lighted, and\nstreamed in a brilliant blaze over the gaudily-attired tenors and _prime\ndonne_ that were piling the agony on the backs of various operatic songs.\nStanton was considering them, and mentally commenting on the manner of\nladies and gentlemen who found it good to spend their lives making faces\nand throwing themselves into contortions that appeared to him equally\npainful and ridiculous, when he noticed a lady inside the shop engaged\nin choosing some music. She was dressed in black, and he only caught\na glimpse of her side face through her veil; but the glimpse made him\nstart. He watched her take the roll of music from the shopman, secure it\nin a little leathern case, and then turn to leave the shop. She walked\nout leisurely, but the moment she opened the door she quickened her pace\nalmost to a run; and before Stanton knew where he was, she had rushed\ninto the middle of the street. He hastened after her, but a string of\ncarriages and cabs intervened and blocked the street for some moments.\nAs soon as it was clear, he saw the slight figure in black stepping into\nan omnibus. He hailed it, gesticulating and hallooing frantically; but\nthe conductor, with the spirit of contradiction peculiar to conductors,\nkept his head persistently turned the other way. Stanton tore after him,\nwaving his umbrella and whistling, all to no purpose, until at last he\nstopped for want of breath. At the same moment the omnibus pulled up to\nlet some travellers alight; he overtook it this time, and got in. The\ngreat machine went thundering on its way, and there opposite to him sat\nthe lady in black, his master\u2019s wife, he was ready to swear, if she was\nin the land of the living. He saw the features very indistinctly, but\nwell enough to be certain of their identity; the height and contour were\nthe same, and so was the mass of jet black hair that escaped in thick\nplaits from under the small black bonnet. Then there was the conclusive\nfact of his having seen her in a music-shop. This clinched the matter for\nStanton. The omnibus stopped, the lady got out, ran to the corner of the\nstreet, and waited for another to come up, and jumped into it; Stanton\nmeanwhile following her like her shadow. She saw it, and he saw that she\nsaw it, and that she was frightened and trying to get away from him. Why\nshould she do so if she were not afraid of being recognized? He was\nnot a gentleman, and could see no reason for an unprotected young woman\nbeing frightened at a man looking fixedly at her and pursuing her, unless\nshe had a guilty conscience. He sat as near as he could to her in the\nomnibus, and when it pulled up to let her down he got down. She hurried\nup a small, quiet street off Tottenham Court Road, and on reaching a\nsemi-detached small house, flew up the steps and pulled violently at the\nbell. Stanton was beside her in an instant.\n\n\u201cExcuse me, ma\u2019am, but I know you. I don\u2019t mean to do you any \u2019arm, only\nto tell you that I\u2019m Stanton, Mr. Clide\u2019s valet; you are my master\u2019s\nwife!\u201d\n\nHe was excited, but respectful in his manner.\n\n\u201cYou are mistaken,\u201d replied the lady, shrinking into the doorway. \u201cI know\nnothing about you. I never heard of Mr. Clide, and I\u2019m not married!\u201d\n\nStanton was of course prepared for the denial, and showed no sign of\nsurprise or incredulity; but, in spite of himself, her tone of assurance\nstaggered him a little. He could not say whether the sound of the voice\nresembled that of Mrs. de Winton. Its echoes had lingered very faintly in\nhis memory, and so many other voices and sounds had swept over it during\nthe intervening years that he could not the least affirm whether the\nvoice he had just heard was hers or not. Before he had found any answer\nto this question, footsteps were audible pattering on the tarpauling of\nthe narrow entry, and a slip-shod servant-girl opened the door. The lady\npassed quickly in; Stanton followed her.\n\n\u201cYou must leave me!\u201d she said, turning on him. \u201cThis is my papa\u2019s house,\nand if you give any more annoyance he will have you taken into custody.\u201d\nShe spoke in a loud voice, and as she ceased the parlor door was opened,\nand a gentleman in a velveteen coat and slippers came forward with a\nnewspaper in his hand.\n\n\u201cWhat\u2019s the matter? What is all this about?\u201d he demanded blandly, coming\nforward to reconnoitre Stanton, who did not look at all bland, but grim\nand resolute, like a man who had conquered his footing on the premises,\nand meant to hold it.\n\n\u201cSir, I am Stanton, Mr. Clide\u2019s valet; this lady knows me well, if you\ndon\u2019t.\u201d\n\n\u201cPapa! I never saw him in my life! I don\u2019t know who Mr. Clide is!\u201d\nprotested the young lady in a tremor. \u201cThis man has annoyed me all the\nway home. Send him away!\u201d\n\n\u201cI must speak to you, sir,\u201d said Stanton stoutly. \u201cI cannot leave the\nhouse without.\u201d\n\n\u201cPray walk in!\u201d said the gentleman, waving his newspaper towards the open\nparlor; \u201cand you, my dear, go and take off your bonnet.\u201d\n\n\u201cNow, sir, be good enough to state your business,\u201d he began when the door\nwas closed.\n\n\u201cMy business isn\u2019t with you, sir, but with your daughter, if she is your\ndaughter,\u201d said Stanton. \u201cOne thing is certain--she\u2019s my master\u2019s wife;\nthere an\u2019t no use in her denying it, and the best thing she can do is\nto speak out to her \u2019usband penitent-like, and he\u2019ll forgive her, poor\nthing, and do the best he can for her, which will be better than what\nthat uncle of hers \u2019as been doin\u2019 for her, draggin\u2019 her about everywhere\nand driving the poor creature crazy. That\u2019s what I\u2019ve got to say, sir,\nand I \u2019ope you\u2019ll see as it\u2019s sense and reason.\u201d\n\nThe occupant of the velveteen slippers listened to this speech with eyes\nthat grew rounder and rounder as it proceeded; then he threw back his\nhead and laughed till the tears ran down his cheeks.\n\n\u201cMy good man, there\u2019s some mistake! You\u2019ve mistaken my daughter for\nsomebody else; she never was married in her life, and she has no uncle\nthat ever I heard of. Ha! ha! ha! It\u2019s the best joke I ever heard in my\nlife!\u201d\n\n\u201cExcuse me; it an\u2019t no joke at all!\u201d protested Stanton, nettled, and\nresolved not to be shaken by the ring of honesty there was in the man\u2019s\nlaugh. \u201cYou mayn\u2019t know the person that calls himself her uncle, but\nI do, sir. Mayhap you are duped by the rascal yourself; but it\u2019ll all\ncome out now. I have it all in the palm of my hand.\u201d And he opened that\ncapacious member and closed it again significantly. \u201cYour daughter must\neither come away with me quietly, or I\u2019ll call the police and have her\ntaken off whether she will or no!\u201d\n\n\u201cI tell you, man, you are under some preposterous mistake,\u201d said the\ngentleman, his blandness all gone, and his choler rising. \u201cMy name is\nHoney. I am a clerk in H---- Bank, and my daughter, Eliza Jane Honey, has\nnever left me since she was born. She is an artist, a singer, and gives\nlessons in singing in some of the first houses in London!\u201d\n\n\u201cSinger! Singing lessons! Ha! Just so! I know it all,\u201d said Stanton, his\nmouth compressing itself in a saturnine smile. \u201cI know it all, and I tell\nyou I don\u2019t leave this \u2019ouse without her.\u201d\n\n\u201cConfound your insolence! What do you mean? You\u2019d better be gone this\ninstant, or I\u2019ll call the police and give _you_ into custody!\n\n\u201cNo, sir, don\u2019t try it; it won\u2019t answer,\u201d said Stanton, imperturbable.\n\u201cIt \u2019ud only make more trouble; the poor thing has enough on her already,\nand I\u2019m not the one to make more for her. If you call in the police I\u2019ve\nsomething \u2019ere,\u201d slapping his waistcoat pocket, \u201cas \u2019ud settle at once\nwhich of us was to be took up.\u201d\n\nBefore Mr. Honey could say anything in answer to this, a voice came\ncarrolling down the stairs, singing some air from an opera, rich with\ntrills and _fioriture_.\n\n\u201cThere it is! The very voice! The very tune I\u2019ve \u2019eard her sing in the\ndrawing-room at Lanwold!\u201d exclaimed Stanton.\n\nThe singer dashed into the room, but broke off in her trills on seeing\nhim.\n\n\u201cWhat! you are not gone? Papa, who is he?\u201d\n\n\u201cMy dear, he is either a madman or--or worse,\u201d said her father. \u201cIt\u2019s the\nmost extraordinary thing I ever heard in my life!\u201d\n\n\u201cSpeak out, ma\u2019am, and don\u2019t you fear I\u2019ll do you any \u2019arm; my master\nwouldn\u2019t \u2019ave it, not for all the money he\u2019s worth. Nobody knows the sum\nhe\u2019s spent on them detectives already to try and catch you; and it speaks\nbadly for the lot to say they\u2019ve not caught you long ago. But don\u2019t you\nbe afraid of me, ma\u2019am!\u201d urged Stanton, making his voice as mild as he\ncould.\n\nEliza Jane\u2019s answer was a peal of laughter.\n\n\u201cWhy should I be afraid of you? I never laid my eyes on you before, or\nyou on me; you mistake me for somebody else, I tell you. I never heard\nof Mr. Clide, and I am certain he never heard of me. The idea of your\ninsisting that I\u2019m his wife!\u201d And she laughed again; but there was a\nnervous twitch about her mouth, and Stanton saw it.\n\n\u201cAs like as two peas in a pod!\u201d was his emphatic remark, as he\ndeliberately scanned her face.\n\nThere was no denying the resemblance, indeed. The face was fuller, the\nfeatures more developed, but the interval of years would explain that.\n\n\u201cLook at my hand! You see I have no wedding-ring? Ask me a few questions;\nyou will find out the blunder at once, if you only try,\u201d she said.\n\nStanton paused for a moment, as if trying to recall something that might\nserve as a test.\n\n\u201cI \u2019ave it!\u201d he said, looking up with a look of triumph. \u201cOpen your\nmouth, ma\u2019am, and let me look into it!\u201d\n\nHe advanced towards her, expecting instant compliance. But Miss Honey\nrushed behind her father with a cry of terror and disgust. The movement\nwas perfectly natural under the circumstances, but Stanton saw it in the\nlight of his own suspicions.\n\n\u201cHa! I guessed as much,\u201d he said, drawing away, and speaking in a quiet\ntone of regret. \u201cI was sure of it. Well, you give me no choice. I know my\ndooty to a lady, but I know my dooty to my master too.\u201d He went toward\nthe window, intending to throw it up and call for a policeman.\n\n\u201cStop!\u201d cried Mr. Honey. \u201cWhat do you expect to find in my daughter\u2019s\nmouth?\u201d\n\n\u201cThat, sir, is known to her and to me,\u201d was the oracular reply. \u201cIf she\nhas nothing in it as can convict her, she needn\u2019t be afraid to let me\nlook into it.\u201d\n\nMr. Honey turned aside, touched his forehead with his forefinger, and\npointed with the thumb toward Stanton. After this rapid and significant\nlittle pantomime, he said aloud to his daughter:\n\n\u201cMy dear, perhaps it is as well to let the man have his way. He will see\nthat there is nothing to see. Come and gratify his singular curiosity.\u201d\n\nThe girl was now too frightened to see the ludicrous side of the\nperformance; she advanced gravely to the table, on which a gas-burner\nthrew a strong, clear light, and opened her mouth. Stanton came and\npeered into it. \u201cPlease to lift the left side as wide open as you can,\nma\u2019am; it was the third tooth from the back of her left jaw.\u201d\n\nShe did as he desired, but, after looking closely all round, he could\nsee nothing but two fine, pearly rows of teeth, all ivory, without the\nsmallest glimmer of gold or silver to attest the presence of even an\nunsound one.\n\n\u201cI beg your pardon, ma\u2019am! I beg a thousand pardons, sir! I find I\u2019ve\nmade a great mistake! I\u2019ve behaved shameful rude to you and the young\nlady; but I hope you\u2019ll forgive me. I was only doing my dooty to my\nmaster. I\u2019m sorrier than I can say for my mistake!\u201d Both father and\ndaughter were too thankful to be rid of him to withhold their free and\nunconditional pardon. They even went the length of regretting that he had\nhad so much trouble and such an unpleasant adventure all to no purpose,\nand cordially wished him better success next time, as he withdrew,\nprofusely apologizing.\n\n\u201cPapa, he must be an escaped lunatic!\u201d cried the young lady, as the\nhall-door closed on Stanton.\n\n\u201cI dare say they took me for a maniac, and indeed no wonder!\u201d was\nStanton\u2019s reflection, as he heard a peal of laughter through the window.\n\nThe adventure left, nevertheless, an uneasy feeling on his mind, and\nthe next day he called on Mr. Peckitt, the dentist, and related it. Mr.\nPeckitt had not seen the wearer of the silver tooth since the time he had\nattended her before her departure for Berlin; but he had seen her uncle,\nand made an entire set of false teeth for him. He took the liberty on\nfirst seeing him of inquiring for the young lady; but her uncle answered\ncurtly that she was in no need of dental services at present, and turned\noff the subject by some irrelevant remark. Mr. Peckitt, of course, took\nthe hint, and never reverted to it. This was all he had to tell Stanton;\nbut he did not confirm the valet\u2019s certainty as to the non-identity of\nMiss Honey on the grounds of the absence of the silver tooth. It was, he\nthought, improbable that his patient should have parted with that odd\nappendage, and that, if so, she should have gone to a strange dentist to\nhave it replaced by an ordinary tooth; but either of these alternatives\nwas possible.\n\nThis was all the information that Stanton had for his master when the\nlatter returned from his bootless search in Scotland.\n\nOn the following day Sir Simon Harness came to London and heard of the\nstrange adventure. He was inclined to attach more importance to it than\nClide apparently did.\n\n\u201cSuppose this so-called Eliza Jane Honey should not have been Isabel,\u201d\nhe said, \u201cbut some one like her--the same whom you saw at Dieppe?\u201d Clide\nshook his head.\n\n\u201cImpossible! _I_ could not be deceived, though Stanton might. This Miss\nHoney, too, was fuller in the face, and altogether a more robust person,\nthan Isabel, as Stanton remembers her. Now, after the terrible attack\nthat she has suffered lately, it is much more likely that she is worn and\nthin, poor child!\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is true. Still, there remains the coincidence of the splendid voice\nand of her being an artist. If I were you, I would not rest till I saw\nher myself.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt would only make assurance doubly sure. Stanton has startled me\nover and over again for nothing. Every pair of black eyes and bright\ncomplexion that he sees gives him a turn, as he says, and sets him off\non the chase. No; the woman I saw at Dieppe was my wife--I am as sure\nof that as of my own identity. I did not get near enough to her to say,\n\u2018Are you my wife?\u2019 but I am as certain of it as if I had.\u201d He promised,\nhowever, to satisfy Sir Simon, that he would go to Tottenham Court and\nsee Miss Honey.\n\nWhile Clide\u2019s tongue was engaged on this absorbing topic, he was mentally\nreverting to another subject which was scarcely less absorbing, and which\nwas closer to his heart. His love for Franceline had not abated one atom\nof its ardor since absence and a far more impassable gulf had parted him\nfrom her; her image reigned supreme in his heart still, and accompanied\nhim in his waking and sleeping thoughts. He felt no compunction for this.\nHis conscience tendered full and unflinching allegiance to the letter of\nthe moral law, but it was in bondage to none of those finer spiritual\ntenets that ruled and influenced Franceline. He would have cut off his\nright hand rather than outrage her memory by so much as an unworthy\nthought; but he gave his heart full freedom to retain and foster its\nlove for her. He had not her clear spiritual insight to discern the\nsinfulness of this, any more than he had her deep inward strength to\nenable him to crush the sin out of his heart, even if he had tried, which\nhe did not. It was his misfortune, not his fault, that his love for her\nwas unlawful. Nothing could make it guilty; that was in his own power,\nand the purity of its object was its best protection. She was an angel,\nand could only be worshipped with the reverent love that one of her own\npure kindred spirits might accept without offence or contamination. Such\nwas Clide\u2019s code, and, if he wanted any internal proof of his own loyalty\nto sanction it, he had it in the shape of many deep-drawn sighs--prayers,\nhe called them, and perhaps they were--that Franceline might not suffer\non his account, but might forget him, and be happy after a time with some\nworthier husband. He had been quite honest when he sighed these sighs--at\nleast he thought he was; yet when Sir Simon, meaning to console him and\nmake things smooth and comfortable, assured him emphatically that they\nhad been both happily mistaken in the nature of Franceline\u2019s feelings,\nand then basely and cruelly insinuated that Ponsonby Anwyll was in a\nfair way to make her a good husband by and by, Clide felt a pang more\nacute than any he had yet experienced. This is often the case with us. We\nnever know how much insincerity there is in the best of our prayers--the\nanti-self ones--until we are threatened with the grant of them.\n\nSir Simon said nothing about the stolen ring. His friendship for Raymond\npartook of that strong personal feeling which made any dishonor in its\nobject touch him like a personal stain. He could not bear even to admit\nit to himself that his ideal was destroyed. M. de la Bourbonais had been\nhis ideal of truth, of manly independence, of everything that was noble,\nsimple, and good. There are many intervals in the scale that separates\nthe ordinary honest man from the ideal man of honor. Sir Simon could\ncount several of the former class; but he knew but one of the higher\ntype. He had never known any one whom he would have placed on the same\npinnacle of unsullied, impregnable honor with Raymond. Now that he had\nfallen, it seemed as if the very stronghold of Sir Simon\u2019s own faith had\nsurrendered; he could disbelieve everything, he could doubt everybody.\nWhere was truth to be found, who was to be trusted, since Raymond de la\nBourbonais had failed? But meantime he would screen him as long as he\ncould. He would not be the first to speak of his disgrace to any one. He\ntold Clide how Raymond had lost, for him, a considerable sum of money\nrecently, through the dishonesty of a bank, and how he had borne the loss\nwith the most incredible philosophy, because just then it so happened he\ndid not want the money; but since then Franceline\u2019s health had become\nvery delicate, and she was ordered to a warm climate, and these few\nhundreds would have enabled him to take her there, and her father was now\nbitterly lamenting the loss.\n\nClide was all excitement in a moment.\n\n\u201cBut now you can supply them?\u201d he cried. \u201cOr rather let me do it through\nyou! I must not, of course, appear; but it will be something to know I am\nof use to her--to both of them. You can easily manage it, can you not?\nM. de la Bourbonais would make no difficulty in accepting the service\nfrom you.\u201d\n\n\u201cHumph! As ill-luck will have it, there is a coldness between us at\npresent,\u201d said Sir Simon--\u201ca little tiff that will blow off after a while\nbut meanwhile Bourbonais is as unapproachable as a porcupine. He\u2019s as\nproud as Lucifer at any time, and I fear there is no one but myself from\nwhom he would accept a service of the kind.\u201d\n\n\u201cCould not Langrove manage it? They seemed on affectionate terms,\u201d said\nClide.\n\n\u201cOh! no, oh! no. That would never do!\u201d said Sir Simon quickly. \u201cI don\u2019t\nsee any one at Dullerton but myself who could attempt it.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, but some one must, since you say you can\u2019t,\u201d argued Clide with\nimpatience. \u201cWhen do you return to the Court?\u201d\n\n\u201cI did not mean to return just yet a while. You see, I have a great deal\nof business to look to--of a pleasant sort, thanks to you, my dear boy,\nbut still imperative and admitting of no delay. I can\u2019t possibly leave\ntown until it has been settled.\u201d\n\n\u201cI should have thought Simpson might have attended to it. I suppose you\nmean legal matters?\u201d said the young man with some asperity. He could not\nunderstand Sir Simon\u2019s being hindered by mere business from sparing a day\nin a case of such emergency, and for such a friend. It was unlike him to\nbe selfish, and this was downright heartlessness.\n\n\u201cSimpson? To be sure!\u201d exclaimed the baronet jubilantly, starting up and\nseizing his hat. \u201cI will be off and see him this minute. Simpson is sure\nto hit on some device; he\u2019s never at a loss for anything.\u201d\n\nTO BE CONTINUED.\n\n\nTHE STORY OF EVANGELINE IN PROSE.\n\nI spare you M. Jourdain\u2019s oft-quoted saying. Too often, I fear, I\nsuccessfully imitate the \u201cBourgeois Gentilhomme\u201d in speaking prose\nwithout knowing it--aye, at the very moment when I think to woo the Muse\nmost ardently. But great is the courage demanded to announce a purpose\nto be prosaic--prosy, it may be--with premeditation. Especially true is\nthis when, as in the case before me, the subject itself ranks high as\npoetry. Mr. Longfellow, in some of his later writings, may seem to aim\nat, or does, perhaps, unconsciously catch, that tone, made fashionable\nby the younger Victorian songsters, which sets the poet apart as a being\ndiffering from his kind, and makes him, as the English poet-laureate\ndoes, \u201cborn in a golden clime\u201d\n\n    \u201cWith golden stars above.\u201d\n\nBut in his \u201cTale of Acadie\u201d our American Wordsworth touches with\nsympathetic finger the chords that vibrate with feeling in common hearts.\nThis is the lyre he sweeps with a magic sweetness not excelled by any\nmodern English poet. _Evangeline_ is a poem of the hearth and domestic\nlove. That is to say, though it is true the heroine and her betrothed\nnever come together in one happy home, the feelings described are such as\nmight without shame beat tenderly in any Christian maiden\u2019s breast; such,\ntoo, as any husband might wish his wife to feel. How different is this\nfrom the fierce passion--a surrender to the lower nature--which burns\nand writhes and contorts itself in Mr. Swinburne\u2019s heroines! One is\nChristian Love, the other the pagan brutishness of Juvenal\u2019s Messalina.\nIt may be said indeed with truth that, in portraying a Catholic maiden\nand a Catholic community, Mr. Longfellow has, with the intuition of\ngenius, reflected in this poem the purity and fidelity blessed by the\nchurch in the love it sanctions. His admirers, therefore, cannot but\nregret that debasing contact with the new school of the XIXth-century\nrealism which, in such an one of his later poems, for example, as that\nentitled \u201cLove,\u201d draws him to the worship of the \u201clanguors\u201d and \u201ckisses\u201d\nof the Lucretian Venus. The love of Evangeline is that which is affected\nby refined women in every society--humble though the poet\u2019s heroine be;\nthe other strips the veil from woman\u2019s weakness.\n\nThe charm of the poem is that it transports us to a scene Arcadian,\nidyllic, yet which impresses us with its truthfulness to nature. This\nis not Acadia only, but Arcadia. The nymphs, and the shepherds and\nshepherdesses, and the god Pan with his oaten reed, put off the stage\ncostumes worn by them in the pages of Virgil or on the canvas of\nWatteau, and, lo! here they are in real life in the village of Grand\nPr\u00e9--Evangeline milking the kine, Gabriel Lajeunesse, and Michael the\nfiddler, and the level Acadian meadows walled in by their dykes from\nthe turmoil of war that shook the world all around them. The picture is\ntruthful; but truthful rather by the effect of the bold touches that\nbefit the artist and poet than in the multitude of details--some more\nprosaic, some not so charming--which, massed together, make up the more\nfaithful portrait of the historian. The description of scenery in the\npoem confuses the natural features of two widely-separated and different\nsections of the country; the Evangeline of Grand Pr\u00e9 is not in all\nrespects the Acadian girl of Charlevoix or Murdock; the history of men\nand manners on the shores of the Basin of Mines,[231] as depicted by\nthe poet, is sadly at variance with the angry, tumultuous, suspicious,\nblood-stained annals of those settlements. Strange as it may seem, the\npoem is truer of the Acadians of to-day, again living in Nova Scotia,\nthan of their expatriated forefathers. Remoteness of time did not mean,\nin their case, a golden age of peace and plenty. Far from it! It meant\nceaseless war on the borders, the threats and intrigues of a deadly\nnational feud, the ever-present, overhanging doom of exile, military\ntyranny, and constant English espionage. Now absolute peace reigns within\nthe townships still peopled by their descendants, and the Acadian peasant\nand village maiden cling in silence and undisturbed to the manners their\nfathers brought from Normandy nearly three centuries ago.\n\nThe first few lines give the coloring to the whole poem. They are the\nsetting within which are grouped the characters.\n\n    \u201cThis is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks,\n    Bearded with moss, and in garments green, indistinct in the twilight,\u201d\n\nstand \u201clike Druids of eld,\u201d or \u201charpers hoar\u201d;\n\n    \u201cWhile from its rocky caverns the deep-voiced neighboring ocean\n    Speaks, and in accents disconsolate answers the wail of the forest.\u201d\n\nThis is the refrain running through the poem like the _aria_ of the\n\u201cLast Rose of Summer\u201d through _Martha_. Yet the picture conveyed to the\nreader\u2019s mind is that of the Atlantic coast of Acadia, or Nova Scotia,\nnot of the Basin of Mines, where Evangeline dwelt with her people. The\nnatural features of the two sections of country are strikingly diverse.\nOn the east coast of Nova Scotia rises a line of granitic and other\ncliffs, sterile, vast, jagged, opposing their giant shoulders to the\nroaring surges of the Atlantic. On the hills behind, the pines and\nhemlocks rustle and murmur in answer to the waves. This is the \u201cforest\nprimeval\u201d and the \u201cloud-voiced neighboring ocean.\u201d But on the west coast\nis quite another scene. The Basin of Mines is an inland gulf of an inland\nsea--the Bay of Fundy. Here the granite rocks and murmuring pines give\nplace to red clay-banks and overflowed marshes. And here is Horton, or\nGrand Pr\u00e9. It is separated by the whole breadth of the peninsula of Nova\nScotia from the ocean. The \u201cmists from the mighty Atlantic,\u201d which\n\n    \u201cLooked on the happy valley, but ne\u2019er from their station descended,\u201d\n\nare in reality the fogs of the Bay of Fundy shut out by the North\nMountain. Instead of the long swell of the Atlantic breaking on a rocky\ncoast, we have in the Basin of Mines numerous small rivers running\nthrough an alluvial country, with high clay-banks left bare by the\nreceding tide. This last feature of the scene is correctly described\nby the poet; but it must be borne in mind that it is not united with\nthe natural features of the east coast. The Acadians never, in fact,\naffected the Atlantic sea-board. They sailed shuddering past its frowning\nand wintry walls, and, doubling Cape Sable, beat up the Bay of Fundy to\nwhere the sheltered Basins of Port Royal and Mines invited an entrance\nfrom the west. For over one hundred years after the founding of Port\nRoyal the Atlantic coast of Acadia remained a waste. A fishing-village\nat Canseau on the north--a sort of stepping-stone to and from the great\nfortress of Louisburg--and a few scattered houses and clearings near\nLa Tour\u2019s first settlement alone broke the monotonous silence of the\nwilderness. The Indian hunter tracking the moose over the frozen surface\nof the snow, and some half-solitary Irish and New England fishermen in\nChebucto Bay, divided the rest of the country between them. It was not\nuntil 1749 that Cornwallis landed his colonists at Halifax, and made\nthe first solid footing on the Atlantic coast. But for generations\npreviously, in the rich valley of the River of Port Royal, and along\nthe fertile banks of the streams flowing into the Basin of Mines--the\nGaspereau, the Canard, and the Pereau--the thrifty Acadians spread their\nvillages, built their churches, and were married and buried by the good\nRecollect Fathers.\n\nI was a lad scarce emancipated from college when I first visited those\nscenes. I remember well my emotion when I drew my eyes away from the\nlandscape, and, turning to my companion, Father K----, asked him if\nthere were any remains of the old village of Grand Pr\u00e9. To my youthful\nimagination Evangeline was as real as the people about me. Father K----\nwas the priest stationed at Kentville, about ten miles distant from\nGrand Pr\u00e9 and the Gaspereau River, which were included in his mission. He\nwas an old family friend, and I was going to spend the summer vacation\nwith him. We were driving from Windsor through Horton and Wolfville to\nKentville, passing on our road through all the scenes described in the\npoem. I have often visited that part of the country since then, but never\nhas it made such an impression on me. The stage-coach then rolled between\nWindsor and Kentville, and something of the rural simplicity congenial\nwith the poem was still felt to be around one. Last year I rode by rail\nover the same ground, and later on another line of railroad to Truro, and\nthence around the Basin of Mines on the north through Cumberland. But my\nfeelings had changed, or the whistle of the locomotive was a sound alien\nto the memories of those green meadows and intersecting dykes. Evangeline\nwas no longer a being to be loved, but a beautiful figment of the poet\u2019s\nbrain.\n\nI don\u2019t know to this day whether Father K---- was quizzing me, or was\nloath to shatter my boyish romance, when he told me that there were some\nold ruins which were said to be the home of Evangeline. It is probable he\nwas having a quiet joke at my expense, as he was noted for his fund of\nhumor, which I learned better to appreciate in later years. Poor Father\nK----! He was a splendid type of the old Irish missionary priest--an\nadmirable Latinist; well read in English literature, especially the Queen\nAnne poets; hearty, jovial, and could tell a story that would set the\ntable in a roar. And, withal, no priest worked harder than he did in his\nwide and laborious mission, or was a more tender-hearted friend of the\npoor and afflicted. He is since dead.\n\nDuring the month or six weeks I spent with Father K----, that part of the\ncountry became quite familiar to me by means of his numerous drives on\nparish duties, when I usually accompanied him. Often, as the shades of\nthe summer evening descended, have I watched the mists across the Basin\nshrouding the bluff front of Cape Blomidon--\u201cBlow-me-down,\u201d as it is more\ncommonly called by the country-folk. At other times we drove up the North\nMountain, where the\n\n    \u201cSea-fogs pitched their tents,\u201d\n\nand, standing there, I have looked down upon the distant glittering\nwaters of the Bay of Fundy.\n\nOn one occasion we rode over from Kentville to Wolfville, and then up the\nGaspereau, at the mouth of which\n\n    \u201cThe English ships at their anchors\u201d\n\nswung with the tide on the morning which ushered in the doom of Grand\nPr\u00e9. We rode some distance up the valley to the house of a Catholic\nfarmer, and there put up for the day. It was the day on which the\nelections took place for the House of Assembly. The contest was fiercely\nconducted amid great popular excitement. One of those \u201cNo-Popery\u201d cries,\nfomented by an artful politician--which sometimes sweep the colonies as\nwell as the mother country--was raging in the province. Father K----\nleft Kentville, the county town, on that day to avoid all appearance\nof interference in the election, and also to get away from the noise\nand confusion that pervaded the long main street of the village. I can\nremember the news coming up the Gaspereau in the evening how every one\nof the four candidates opposed to Father K---- had been returned.\nBut at that time I paid little heed to politics, and during the day I\nwandered down through the field to the river, and strolled along its\nwillow-fringed banks. Some of those willows were very aged, and might\nhave swung their long, slim wands and narrow-pointed leaves over an\nEvangeline and a Gabriel a hundred years before. Those willows were not\nthe natural growth of the forest, but were planted there--by whom? No\nremnant of the people that first tilled the valley was left to say!\n\nRiding home next day, a laughable incident, but doubtless somewhat\nannoying to Father K----, occurred. Just as we were about to turn a\nnarrow bend of the road, suddenly we were confronted by a long procession\nin carriages and all sorts of country vehicles, with banners flying, men\nshouting, and everything to indicate a triumphal parade. It was, in fact,\na procession escorting two of the \u201cNo-Popery\u201d members elected the day\nbefore. The position was truly rueful, but Father K---- had to grin and\nbear it. There was no escape for us; we had to draw up at the side of the\nroad, and sit quietly in our single wagon until the procession passed us.\nIt was a very orderly and good-humored crowd, but there were a good many\nbroad grins, as they rode by, at having caught the portly and generally\npopular priest in such a trap. Nothing would persuade them, of course,\nbut that he had been working might and main for the other side during\nthe election. Finally, as the tail of the procession passed us, some one\nin the rear, more in humor than in malice, sang out: \u201cTo h--ll with the\nPope.\u201d There was a roar of laughter at this, during which Father K----\ngathered up his reins, and, saying something under his breath which I\nwill not vouch for as strictly a blessing, applied the whip to old Dobbin\nwith an energy that that respectable quadruped must have thought demanded\nexplanation.\n\nChanged indeed was such a scene from those daily witnessed when Father\nFelician,\n\n    \u201cPriest and pedagogue both in the village,\u201d\n\nruled over his peaceful congregation at the mouth of the Gaspereau.\n\nIt has been said in the beginning of this article that Evangeline, the\nheroine and central figure of the poem, is not altogether true to history\nas typical of the Acadian girl of that period, as seen in the annals of\nPort Royal; and doubtless this assertion can be borne out by the records.\nBut, on second thoughts, it does appear, as it were, a profanation to\nsubject such a bright creation of the poet\u2019s mind to the analysis of\nhistory. As profitably might we set about converting the diamond into\nits original carbon. The magical chemistry of genius, as of nature, has\nin either case fused the dull and common atoms into the sparkling and\npriceless jewel.\n\nThe stoutest champion of her sex will not, upon consideration, contend\nthat so absolutely perfect a creature as Evangeline is likely to be found\nin any possible phase of society. Is not a spice of coquetry inseparable\nfrom all women? Evangeline has none of it. She is, too, too unconscious\nthat her lover\n\n    \u201cWatches for the gleam of her lamp and her shadow\u201d\n\nunder the trees in the orchard. She is the heroine of an idyl--not,\nindeed, of unreal Arthurian romance, but of that exalted and passionless\nlove which the virgin heart seeks, but afterwards consoles itself for not\nfinding. That ideal star does not shine upon this world; but its divine\nrays fall softly upon many an unknown heart in the cloister.\n\nBut it is incontestable that the Acadian maidens of Port Royal and Mines\nshared in some of the agreeable frivolities which still, it is said,\nsometimes distinguish their sisters in the world. They had an eye for a\nmilitary uniform and clanking spurs even in those \u201cprimeval\u201d days. It\nis a frequent complaint of the French governors to the home authorities\nat Paris that their young officers were being continually led into\nmarriage with girls of the country \u201cwithout birth,\u201d and, worse still,\noften \u201cwithout money.\u201d In the old parish register of Annapolis can be\nseen more than one entry of the union of a gallant ensign or captain to\na village belle from the inland settlements whose visit to the Acadian\nmetropolis had subjugated the Gallic son of Mars. Nor was the goddess of\nfashion altogether without a shrine in close contiguity to the \u201cmurmuring\npines and the hemlocks.\u201d Some of the naval and military officers sent for\ntheir wives from Paris or Quebec, and these fine ladies brought their\nmaids with them. This is not a supposition, but a fact which can be\nverified by reference to the letters of M. des Goutins and others in the\ncorrespondence of the time. Imagine a Parisian soubrette of the XVIIIth\ncentury in the village of Grand Pr\u00e9! It is a shock to those who derive\ntheir knowledge of Acadie from Mr. Longfellow\u2019s poem; but those who\nare familiar with the voluminous records of the day, preserved in the\nprovincial archives, are aware of a good many stranger things than that\nrelated in them. Since _Evangeline_ was published the Canadian and Nova\nScotian governments have done much to collect and edit their records, and\nthey are now accessible to the student. Rightly understood, there is no\nreason why the flood of light thus thrown upon the lives of the Acadians\nshould detract anything from our admiration for that simple and kindly\nrace. They were not faultless; but the very fact that they shared in the\ncommon interests, and even foibles, of the rest of the world gives that\ntone of reality to their history which makes us sympathize with them more\njustly in the cruel fate that overtook them. Yet, in depicting the young\nAcadian girl of that period as he has done, the poet has but idealized\nthe truth. The march of the history of her people aids him in making the\nportrait a faithful one. Had he placed the time a little earlier--that is\nto say, under the French-Acadian _r\u00e9gime_--and his heroine at Annapolis,\nhis poem could not have borne the criticism of later research. But in\nselecting the most dramatic incident of Acadian history as the central\npoint of interest, he has necessarily shifted the scene to one of the\nNeutral French settlements. Here, too, he is aided in maintaining the\ntruthfulness of his portraiture by the fact that the English conquest,\nin depriving the Acadians of the right of political action, and cutting\nthem off as much as possible from intercourse with Canada and France,\nhad thrown them back upon rural occupations alone, and developed their\nsimple virtues. Mines and Chignecto had been noted for their rustic\nindependence and their manners uncorrupted by contact with the world,\neven under the old _r\u00e9gime_. One of the military governors of Port Royal\ncomplains of them as \u201csemi-republicans\u201d in a letter to the Minister of\nMarine and Colonies at Paris. After the conquest of 1710, intercourse\nwith Annapolis and its English Government House and foreign garrison\nbecame even more restricted. No oath of allegiance being taken to the\nnew government, the _cur\u00e9_ was recognized both by the inhabitants and\nthe Annapolis government as their virtual ruler. Under the mild sway\nof Fathers Felix, Godalie, and Miniac--in turn _cur\u00e9s_ of Mines--the\nAcadians sought to forget in the cultivation of their fields the stern\nmilitary surveillance of Annapolis, and, later, Fort Edwards and Fort\nLawrence. Father Miniac comes latest in time, and shared the misfortunes\nof his flock in their expulsion. But in Father Godalie, the accomplished\nscholar and long-loved friend of the people of Grand Pr\u00e9, we seem best\nto recognize the \u201cFather Felician\u201d of Mr. Longfellow\u2019s poem. He was a\nguide well fitted to form the lovely character of Evangeline; nor do the\nauthentic records of the time bear less ample testimony to the virtue of\nhis people than the glowing imagination of the poet.\n\nIt is less in the delineation of individual character than in its\ndescription of the undisturbed peace reigning at Grand Pr\u00e9 that the poem\ndeparts most from the truth of history. The expulsion of 1755 was not a\nthunderbolt in a clear sky descending upon a garden of Eden. It was a\ndoom known to be hanging over them for forty years. Its shadow, more\nor less threatening for two generations, was present in every Acadian\nhousehold, disabling industry and driving the young men into service or\ncorrespondence with their French compatriots. Space would not permit, in\nso short a paper, to enter into the history of that desperate struggle\nfor supremacy on this continent ending on the heights of Abraham,\nisolated chapters of which have been narrated with a graphic pen by Mr.\nFrancis Parkman. Acadie was one of its chosen battlegrounds. So far\nfrom the Acadians living in rural peace and content, it may be said\nbroadly yet accurately that from the date of their first settlement to\ntheir final expulsion from the country, during a period extending over\none hundred and fifty years, five years had never passed consecutively\nwithout hostilities, open or threatened. The province changed masters,\nor was wholly or partially conquered, seven times in a little over one\nhundred years, and the final English conquest, so far from establishing\npeace, left the Acadians in a worse position than before. They refused\nto take the oath of allegiance to the English government; the French\ngovernment was not able to protect them, though it used them to harass\nthe English.\n\nThey acquired, therefore, by a sort of tacit understanding, the title\nand position of the \u201cNeutral French,\u201d the English government simply\nwaiting from year to year until it felt itself strong enough to remove\nthem _en masse_ from the province, and the Acadians yearly expecting\nsuccor from Quebec or Louisburg. Each party regarded the other as aliens\nand enemies. Hence it is that no French-Acadian would ever have used the\nwords \u201chis majesty\u2019s mandate\u201d--applied to George II.--as spoken by Basil\nthe blacksmith in the poem. That single expression conveys a radically\nfalse impression of the feelings of the people at the time. The church at\nMines, or Grand Pr\u00e9, from the belfry of which\n\n    \u201cSoftly the Angelus sounded,\u201d\n\nhad been burned down twice by the English and its altar vessels stolen by\nCol. Church in the old wars. Nor had permanent conquest, as we have said,\nbrought any change for the better. The _cur\u00e9s_ were frequently imprisoned\non pretext of exciting attacks on the English garrisons, and sometimes,\nas in the case of Father Felix and Father Charlemagne, were exiled from\nthe province. In 1714 the intention was first announced of transporting\nall the Acadians from their homes. It was proposed to remove them to Cape\nBreton, still held by the French. The pathetic remonstrance of Father\nFelix Palm, the _cur\u00e9_ of Grand Pr\u00e9, in a letter and petition to the\ngovernor, averted this great calamity from his people at that time. But\nthe project was again revived by the English Board of Trade, 1720-30. In\npursuance of its orders, Gov. Philipps issued a proclamation commanding\nthe people of Mines to come in and take the oath of allegiance by a\ncertain day, or to depart forthwith out of the province, permitting, at\nthe same time--a stretch of generosity which will hardly be appreciated\nat this day--each family to carry away with it \u201ctwo sheep,\u201d but all the\nrest of their property to be confiscated. This storm also blew over. But\nthe result of this continual harassment and threatening was to drive the\nAcadians into closer correspondence with the French at Louisburg, and\nto cause their young men to enlist in the French-Canadian forces on the\nfrontier. In view of this aid and comfort given to the enemy, and their\npersistent refusal to take the oath of allegiance, later English writers\nhave not hesitated to declare the removal of the Acadians from the\nprovince a political and military necessity. But the otherwise unanimous\nvoice of humanity has unequivocally denounced their wholesale deportation\nas one of the most cruel and tyrannical acts in the colonial history of\nEngland. We are not to suppose, however, that the Acadians folded their\nhands while utter ruin was thus threatening them. In 1747 they joined\nin the attack on Col. Noble\u2019s force at Mines, in which one hundred\nof the English were killed and wounded, and the rest of his command\nmade prisoners. They were accused, not without some show of reason, of\nsupporting the Indians in their attack on the new settlement at Halifax.\nIt is admitted that three hundred of them, including many of the young\nmen from Grand Pr\u00e9, were among the prisoners taken at Fort Beau Sejour\non the border a few months before their expulsion. It is not our purpose\nto enter into any defence or condemnation of those hostilities. But it\nis plain that Mr. Longfellow\u2019s beautiful lines describing the columns of\npale blue smoke, like clouds of incense, ascending\n\n    \u201cFrom a hundred hearths, the homes of peace and contentment,\u201d\n\n\u201cfree from fear, that reigns with the tyrant, or envy, the vice of\nrepublics,\u201d were not applicable to the condition of affairs at Grand Pr\u00e9\nin 1755, nor at any time.\n\nThe poem follows with fidelity the outlines of the scenes of the\nexpulsion. Heart-rending indeed is the scene, as described even by those\nwho were agents in its execution. The poet gives almost _verbatim_ the\naddress of Col. John Winslow in the chapel. Nevertheless one important\nclause is omitted. Barbarous as were the orders of Gov. Lawrence, he\nwas not absolutely devoid of humanity. Some attempt was made to lessen\nthe pangs of separation from their country by the issuing of orders\nto the military commanders that \u201cwhole families should go together on\nthe same transport.\u201d These orders were communicated with the others to\nthe inhabitants by Col. Winslow, and it appears, they were faithfully\nexecuted as far as the haste of embarkation would permit. But as the\nyoung men marched separately to the ships, and some of them escaped for\na time into the woods, there was nothing to prevent such an incident\noccurring as the separation of Evangeline and Gabriel.\n\nAbout seven thousand (7,000) Acadians, according to Gov. Lawrence\u2019s\nletter to Col. Winslow, were transported from their homes. The total\nnumber of these unfortunate people in the province at that time has\nbeen estimated at eighteen thousand. The destruction was more complete\nat Grand Pr\u00e9 than elsewhere, that being the oldest settlement, with the\nexception of Annapolis, and the most prosperous and thickly settled. A\nfew years later another attempt was made to transfer the remainder of the\nAcadian population to New England; but the transports were not permitted\nto land them at Boston, as they were completely destitute, and the New\nEngland commonwealths petitioned against being made responsible for their\nsupport. The Acadian exiles were scattered over Pennsylvania, Virginia,\nand Georgia. About four hundred and fifty were landed at Philadelphia.\n\n    \u201cIn that delightful land which is washed by the Delaware\u2019s waters,\n    Guarding in sylvan shades the name of Penn, the apostle,\n    Stands on the banks of its beautiful stream the city he founded.\n    \u2026\n    There from the troubled sea had Evangeline landed, an exile,\n    Finding among the children of Penn a home and a country.\u201d\n\nA few months ago I visited the Quaker City. There, where Evangeline ended\nher long pilgrimage, I took up the thread of that story the early scenes\nof which had been so familiar to me. How different those around me! Gone\nwere the balsamic odors of the pines and the salt spray of the ocean.\nOne can conceive how the hearts of the poor Acadian exiles must have\ntrembled. I sought out the old \u201cSwedish church at Wicaco,\u201d whence the\n\u201csounds of psalms\n\n    \u201cAcross the meadows were wafted\u201d\n\non the Sabbath morning when Evangeline went on her way to the hospital,\nand there found her lover dying unknown. The quaint little church--not\nlarger than a country school-house--built of red and black bricks brought\nfrom Sweden, is now almost lost in a corner near the river\u2019s edge, in\nthe midst of huge warehouses and intersecting railroad tracks. In the\nwall near the minister\u2019s desk is a tablet in memory of the first pastor\nand his wife buried beneath. Fastened to the gallery of the choir--not\nmuch higher than one\u2019s head--is the old Swedish Bible first used in\nthe church, and over it two gilded wooden cherubs--also brought from\nSweden--that make one smile at their comical features. In the churchyard,\nunder the blue and faded gray tombstones, repose the men and women of\nthe congregation of 1755 and years before. But no vestiges of the Acadian\nwanderers remain in the Catholic burying-ground.\n\n    \u201cSide by side in their nameless graves the lovers are sleeping.\n    Under the humble walls of the little Catholic churchyard,\n    In the heart of the city, they lie unknown and unnoticed.\u201d\n\nMany of the Acadians succeeded in wandering back to their country. Others\nescaped into what is now called New Brunswick, which was then a part of\nAcadia, and either returned to Nova Scotia in after-years when the whole\nof Canada was finally ceded to the English, or founded settlements,\nexisting to this day in New Brunswick, and returning their own members\nto the Provincial Parliaments. The descendants of the Acadians, still\nspeaking the French language and retaining the manners of their\nforefathers, are more numerous than is generally supposed in Nova Scotia.\nThey number thirty-two thousand out of a total population of three\nhundred and eighty-seven thousand (387,000), according to the census of\n1871. The poet says:\n\n    \u201cOnly along the shore of the mournful and misty Atlantic\n    Linger a few Acadian peasants.\u2026\n    Maidens still wear their Norman caps and their kirtles of homespun,\n    And by the evening fire repeat Evangeline\u2019s story.\u201d\n\nThis refers, no doubt, to the settlement at Chezzetcook, which, from its\ncloseness to Halifax, is best known. On Saturday mornings, in the market\nat Halifax, the Acadian women can be seen standing with their baskets of\neggs and woollen mitts and socks for sale. They are at once recognized by\ntheir short blue woollen outer petticoats or kirtles, and their little\ncaps, with their black hair drawn tightly up from the forehead under\nthem. The young girls are often very pretty. They have delicate features,\nan oval face, a clear olive complexion, and eyes dark and shy, like a\nfawn\u2019s. They soon fade, and get a weather-beaten and hard expression from\nexposure to the climate on their long journeys on foot and from severe\ntoil.\n\nBut in Yarmouth County, and on the other side of the peninsula in\nthe township of Clare, Digby County, there are much larger and more\nprosperous settlements. Clare is almost exclusively French-Acadian.\nThe people generally send their own member to the provincial House\nof Assembly. He speaks French more fluently than English. The priest\npreaches in French. Here at this day is to be found the counterpart of\nthe manners of Grand Pr\u00e9. Virtue, peace, and happiness reign in more\nthan \u201ca hundred homes\u201d under the old customs. Maidens as pure and sweet\nas Evangeline can be seen as of old walking down the road to the church\non a Sunday morning with their \u201cchaplet of beads and their missal.\u201d But\nthe modern dressmaker and milliner has made more headway than among the\npoor Chezzetcook people. Grand Pr\u00e9 itself, and most of the old Acadian\nsettlements, are inhabited by a purely British race--descendants of the\nNorth of Ireland and New England settlers who received grants of the\nconfiscated lands. By a singular turn of fortune\u2019s wheel the descendants\nof another expatriated race--the American loyalists--now people a large\npart of the province once held by the exiled Acadians.\n\n\nTHE PATIENT CHURCH.\n\n                Bide thou thy time!\n    Watch with meek eyes the race of pride and crime,\n    Sit in the gate, and be the heathen\u2019s jest,\n                Smiling and self-possest.\n    O thou, to whom is pledged a victor\u2019s sway,\n                Bide thou the victor\u2019s day!\n\n                Think on the sin\n    That reap\u2019d the unripe seed, and toil\u2019d to win\n    Foul history-marks at Bethel and at Dan--\n                No blessing, but a ban;\n    Whilst the wise Shepherd hid his heaven-told fate,\n                Nor reck\u2019d a tyrant\u2019s hate.\n\n                Such loss is gain;\n    Wait the bright Advent that shall loose thy chain!\n    E\u2019en now the shadows break, and gleams divine\n                Edge the dim, distant line.\n    When thrones are trembling, and earth\u2019s fat ones quail,\n                True seed! thou shalt prevail.\n\n                                              --NEWMAN.\n\n\nSIR THOMAS MORE.\n\n_A HISTORICAL ROMANCE._\n\nFROM THE FRENCH OF THE PRINCESSE DE CRAON.\n\nIV.\n\nWilliam du Bellay having remained in France, M. de Vaux had been sent to\nreplace him in England. The latter, having but recently returned from\nRome, where he was attached to the embassy of M. de Grammont, French\nambassador to that court, was not yet initiated into the state of affairs\nas they existed at the court of Henry VIII.\n\nDu Bellay was not satisfied with the change; and the old diplomate,\nfinding his new assistant inclined to be somewhat dull, undertook to\nenlighten him--leading him on step by step into the intricacies of\ndiplomacy, like a mother, or rather a governess, a little brusque, who is\nimpatient at the slow progress the child makes in learning to walk.\n\n\u201cCome!\u201d he exclaimed, \u201cI see you understand nothing of this; so I shall\nhave to be patient and begin it all over again. It is incredible,\u201d he\nadded, by way of digression, addressing himself to the public (who was\nabsent), \u201cwhat absurd reports are circulated outside with regard to what\nwe say and do in our secret negotiations! It extends even to all these\nharebrains of the court; but you who have a foot in diplomacy I cannot\nexcuse. Come, let us see--we say:\n\n\u201cWhen my brother left, he went to demand on the part of Henry VIII., of\nthe universities of France, and above all that of Paris (preponderating\nover all the others)--remark well: to demand, I say--that they should\ngive decisions favorable to the divorce. Now, this point appeared at\nfirst quite insignificant; but it is just here we have shown our ability\n(I would say I, but I do not wish to vaunt _myself_ over a young man\njust starting out in the world like yourself). Then our king has replied\nto the King of England that he would ask nothing better than to use his\ninfluence with the universities to induce them to give satisfaction on\nthis subject; but that (notice this especially) the Emperor Charles V.\nhad made precisely the same demand in an opposite direction, in favor of\nQueen Catherine, his aunt; that if he refused the emperor, he would be\nextremely displeased, and that he was compelled to reflect a second time,\nbecause the princes, his children, were held as hostages in the hands of\nthe emperor, and in spite of all his efforts he had not yet been able to\npay the price of their ransom stipulated at the treaty of Cambrai.\n\n\u201cIt then remained to say that we could do nothing for him--on the\ncontrary, must oppose him so long as the children were held prisoners,\nor while there was even a chance that they would be restored to us\non condition that we should throw our influence on the side of Queen\nCatherine. All of which is as clear as day--is it not? Now you are going\nto see if I have understood how to take advantage of these considerations\nwith Henry VIII.\u201d\n\nSaying this, with a slightly derisive smile, Du Bellay took from a drawer\na casket of green sharkskin, which he handed to De Vaux, who opened it\neagerly.\n\n\u201cOh! how beautiful,\u201d he exclaimed, taking from the case and holding up in\nthe sunlight a magnificent _fleur de lis_ composed entirely of diamonds.\n\u201cOh! this is most superb.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, it is beautiful!\u201d replied Du Bellay with a satisfied air, \u201cand\nworth one hundred and fifty thousand crowns. Philip, the emperor\u2019s\nfather, pledged it to the King of England for that sum. We are obliged\nby the treaty to redeem it; but as we have not the money to pay, it has\nbeen made a present to us. And here is what is better still,\u201d he added,\ndisplaying a quittance--\u201ca receipt in full for five hundred thousand\ncrowns which the emperor owed Henry VIII.; and he now makes a present\nof it to Francis I., to enable him to pay immediately the two millions\nrequired for the ransom of the princes.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is admirable!\u201d cried De Vaux. \u201cIt must be admitted, my lord, that\nwe shall be under great obligations to Mlle. Anne.\u201d\n\n\u201cAll disorders cost dear, my child,\u201d replied Du Bellay; \u201cand if this\ncontinues, they will ruin England. Think of what will have to be paid yet\nto the University of Paris!\u2026\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd do you suppose they will consent to this demand?\u201d interrupted De\nVaux.\n\n\u201cNo, truly, I do not believe it,\u201d replied Du Bellay. \u201cExcept Master\nGervais, who is always found ready to do anything asked of him, I know\nnot how they will decide; but, between ourselves, I tell you I believe\nthey will be against it. But, observe, we have not promised a favorable\ndecision--we have only left it to be hoped for; which is quite a\ndifferent thing.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is very adroit,\u201d replied De Vaux, \u201cassuredly; but it seems to me\nnot very honest.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow! not honest?\u201d murmured Du Bellay, contracting his little gray\neyebrows, and fixing his greenish eyes on the fair face of the youth.\n\u201cNot honest!\u201d he again exclaimed in a stentorian voice. \u201cWhere do you\ncome from, then, young man? Know that among these people honesty is\na thing unheard of. Others less candid than myself may tell you the\ncontrary, knowing very well that such is not the truth. They arrange\nprojects with the intention of defeating them; they sign treaties with\nthe studied purpose of violating them; they swear to keep the peace in\norder to prepare for war; and a state sells her authority and puts her\ninfluence in the balance of the world in favor of the highest bidder.\nLet the price be earth or metal, it is of no consequence; I make no\ndistinction. When Henry devastated our territories and took possession\nof our provinces, was it just? No! \u2018Might makes right\u2019; that is the\nveritable law of nations--the only one they are willing to acknowledge or\nadopt. In default of strength, there remains stratagem; and I must use\nit!\u201d\n\n\u201cUnder existing circumstances you are right,\u201d replied De Vaux, replacing\nin its case the superb _fleur de lis_, and again waving it in the\nsunlight. \u201cIt is a pity,\u201d he added, \u201cthat they may be obliged to return\nthis; it would set off wonderfully well the wedding dress of the future\nDuchess of Orleans.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat! are they speaking already of the marriage of the young Duke of\nOrleans?\u201d asked Du Bellay in surprise.\n\n\u201cAh! that is a great secret,\u201d replied De Vaux confidentially. \u201cYou know\nour king has not abandoned the idea of subjugating the Milanese, and, to\nensure the pope\u2019s friendship, he offers to marry his second son to his\nniece, the young Catherine de\u2019 Medici.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo!\u201d cried M. du Bellay. \u201cNo, it is impossible! How can they forget that\nbut a short time since the Medici family was composed of only the simple\nmerchants of Florence?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt has all been arranged, notwithstanding,\u201d replied De Vaux. \u201cIn spite\nof all our precautions, the emperor has been apprised of it. At first\nhe refused to credit it, and would not believe the King of France could\nreally think of allying his noble blood with that of the Medici. In the\nmeantime he has been so much frightened, lest the hope of this alliance\nwould not sufficiently dazzle Clement VIII., that he has made a proposal\nto break off the marriage of his niece, the Princess of Denmark, with\nthe Duke of Milan, and substitute the young Catherine in her place. We\nhave, as you may well suppose, promptly advised M. de Montmorency of\nall these things, who returned us, on the spot, full power to sign the\narticles. M. de Grammont immediately carried them to the pope; and he was\ngreatly delighted, as Austria, it seems, had already got ahead of us,\nand persuaded him that we had no other intention than to deceive him and\ngain time. Now everything is harmoniously arranged. They promise for the\nmarriage portion of Catherine Reggio, Pisa, Leghorn, Modena, Ribera, the\nDuchy of Urbino; and Francis I. cedes to his son his claims to the Duchy\nof Milan.\u201d\n\n\u201cSad compensation for a bad marriage!\u201d replied M. du Bellay angrily:\n\u201cnew complications which will only result in bringing about interminable\ndisputes! Princes can never learn to be contented with the territory\nalready belonging to them. Although they may not possess sufficient\nability to govern even _that_ well, still they are always trying to\nextend it. War must waste and ruin a happy and flourishing country, in\norder to put them in possession of a few feet of desolated earth, all\nsprinkled with gold and watered with blood.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! yes,\u201d interrupted De Vaux earnestly, \u201cwe have learned this cruelly\nand to our cost. And relentless history will record without regret the\naccount of our reverses, and the captivity of a king so valiant and\ndauntless--a king who has sacrificed everything save his honor.\u201d\n\n\u201cReflect, my dear, on all this. The honor of a king consists not in\nsacrificing the happiness of his people. A soldier should be brave--the\nhead of a nation should be wise and prudent,\u201d replied Du Bellay, as he\nturned over a great file of papers in search of something, \u201cValor without\nprudence is worthless. The intrigues of the cabinet are more certain;\nthey are of more value than the best generals. They, at least, are never\nentirely defeated; the disaster of the evening inspires renewed strength\nfor the morrow. Cold, hunger, and sickness are not able to destroy\nthem.\u2026 They can only waste a few words or lose a sum of money. A dozen\nwell-chosen spies spread their toils in every direction; we hold them\nlike bundles of straw in our hands; they glide in the dark, slip through\nyour fingers--an army that cannot be captured, which exists not and yet\nnever dies; which drags to the tribunal of those who pay them, without\npity as without discrimination, without violence as without hesitation,\nthe hearts of all mankind.\n\n\u201cGold, my child, but never blood! With bread we can move the world; with\nblood we destroy it. Your heart, young man, leaps within you at the sound\nof the shrill trumpet, when glittering banners wave and the noise of\nbattle inebriates your soul. But look behind you, child, look behind you:\nthe squadron has passed. Hear the shrieks and groans of the dying. Behold\nthose men dragging themselves over the trampled field; their heads gashed\nand bleeding, their bones dislocated, their limbs torn; streams of blood\nflow from their wounds; they die in an ocean furnished from their own\nlacerated veins. Go there to the field of carnage and death; pause beside\nthat man with pallid face and agonized expression; think of the tender\ncare and painful anxiety of the mother who reared him from his cradle.\nHow often she has pressed her lips upon the golden curls of her boy, the\nhope of her old age, which must now end in despair! Reflect there, upon\nthe field of carnage and death, on the tender caresses of wives, sisters,\nand friends. Imagine the brother\u2019s grief, the deep anguish of the father.\nAlas! all these recollections pass in an instant before the half-open\neyes of the dying. Farewell! dream of glory, hateful vision now for ever\nvanished. Life is almost extinct, yet with the latest breath he thinks\nbut of them! \u2018They will see me no more! I must die far away, without\nbeing able to bid them a last adieu.\u2019 Such are the bitter thoughts\nmurmured by his dying lips as the last sigh is breathed forth. Tell me,\nyoung man, have you never reflected when, on the field glittering in the\nbright summer sunshine, you have seen the heavy, well-drilled battalions\nadvance; when the prince rode in the midst of them, and they saluted him\nwith shouts of enthusiasm and love; when that prince, a weak man like\nthemselves, elated with pride, said to them: \u2018March on to death; it is\nfor me that you go!\u2019 For you! And who are you? Their executioner, who\nthrows their ashes to the wind of your ambition, to satisfy the thirst\nof your covetousness, the insolent pride of your name, which the century\nwill see buried in oblivion! Ah! my son,\u201d continued the old diplomate,\ndeeply affected, with his hands crossed on the packet of papers, that he\nhad entirely forgotten, \u201cif you knew how much I have seen in my life of\nthese horrible calamities, of these monstrous follies, which devastate\nthe world! If you but knew how my heart has groaned within me, concealed\nbeneath my gloomy visage, my exterior as impassible as my garments, you\nwould understand how I hate them, these mighty conquerors, these vile\nplagues of the earth, and how I count as nothing the sack of gold which\nlies at the bottom of the precipice over which they push us, the adroit\nfraud that turns them aside from their course! But shall I weep like\nan old woman?\u201d he suddenly exclaimed, vexed at being betrayed into the\nexpression of so much emotion.\n\nHastily brushing the tear from his cheek, he began examining the package\nof papers, and, instantly recovering his usual composure, became M. du\nBellay, the diplomate.\n\nYoung De Vaux, greatly surprised at the excess of feeling into which\nthe ambassador had suddenly been betrayed, so much at variance with his\nprevious manner, as well as his rule of conduct and the rather brusque\nreception he had given him, still remembered it when all thought of the\noccurrence had passed from the mind of his superior.\n\n\u201cHere, sir, read that,\u201d he exclaimed, throwing the young man a small\nscrap of paper.\n\n\u201cI will read it, my lord.\u201d\n\n\u201cRead aloud, sir.\u201d\n\n\u201c\u2018Cardinal Wolsey, overcome by grief and alarm, has fallen dangerously\nill. The king has been informed of it; he has ordered three physicians\nto Asher, and obliged Lady Anne to send him the golden tablets in token\nof his reconciliation. Furthermore, it is certainly true that the king\nhas said: \u201cI would not lose Wolsey for twenty thousand pounds.\u201d It is\nunnecessary to impress upon my lord the importance of this event. My lord\nwill, I hope, approve of the celerity with which I have despatched this\ninformation.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is without signature!\u201d said De Vaux.\n\n\u201cI credit it entirely,\u201d murmured Du Bellay.\n\n\u201cBy my faith, I am delighted! These golden tablets afford me extreme\npleasure,\u201d said De Vaux. \u201cThis will revive the hopes of poor Cardinal\nWolsey.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd that is all!\u2026 And you, content to know that he is happy, will remain\nquietly seated in your chair, I suppose,\u201d said M. du Bellay, fixing his\ngreen eyes, lighted with a brilliant gleam, on young De Vaux. \u201cMonsieur!\u201d\nhe continued, \u201cit is not in this way a man attends to the business of\nhis country. Since the day the cardinal was exiled, I have deliberated\nwhether I should go to see him or not. My heart prompted me to do so, but\nit was not my heart I had to consult. I was persuaded the king would not\nbe able to dispense with him, and sooner or later he would be recalled to\nthe head of affairs. In that case I felt inclined to give him a proof of\nmy attachment in his disgrace. But, on the other hand, that intriguing\nfamily who are constantly buzzing around the king induced me constantly\nto hesitate. Now I believe we have almost nothing more to fear; we will\narrive there, perhaps, before the physicians, and later we shall know how\nto proceed.\u201d\n\n\u201cMost willingly!\u201d cried De Vaux. \u201cI shall be happy indeed to see this\ncelebrated man, of whom I have heard so many different opinions.\u201d\n\n\u201cDoubtless,\u201d interrupted Du Bellay impatiently, \u201cpronounced by what\nis styled \u2018public opinion\u2019--a tribunal composed of the ignorant, the\ndeluded, and short-sighted, who always clamor louder than others, and\nwho take great care, in order to avoid compromising their stupidity, to\nprefix the ominous \u2018they say\u2019 to all their statements. As for me, I say\nthey invariably display more hatred toward the virtues they envy than the\nvices they pretend to despise; and they will judge a man more severely\nand criticise him more harshly for the good he has tried to do than for\nwhat he may have left undone.\u2026 Gossiping, prying crowd, pronouncing\njudgment and knowing nothing, who will cast popularity like a vile mantle\nover the shoulders of any man who will basely stoop low enough before\nthem to receive it! He who endeavors to please all pleases none,\u201d added\nM. du Bellay, with a singularly scornful expression. \u201cTo live for his\nking, and above all for his country, despising the blame or hatred of\nthe vulgar, should be the motto of every public man; and God grant I may\nnever cease to remember it!\u201d\n\n\u201cYou believe, then, the cardinal will be restored to the head of\naffairs?\u201d asked De Vaux, running his fingers through his blonde curls,\nand rising to depart.\n\n\u201cI am not sure of it yet,\u201d replied Du Bellay; \u201cwe are going to find\nout. If the crowd surrounds him, as eager to pay him homage to-day as\nthey were yesterday to overwhelm him with scorn and contempt; if, in a\nword, the courtiers sigh and groan around his bed, and pretend to feel\nthe deepest concern, it will be a most certain indication of his return\nto favor. And, to speak frankly, I believe the king already begins to\ndiscover that no one can replace the cardinal near his person as private\nsecretary; for that poor Gardiner copies a despatch with more difficulty\nthan his predecessor dictated one.\u201d\n\nM. du Bellay arose and started, followed by De Vaux, to the bank of the\nThames, where they entered a large boat already filled with passengers\nawaiting the moment of departure to ascend the river either to Chelsea,\nBattersea, or as far as Pultney, where the boat stopped. Bales of\nmerchandise were piled up in the centre, on which were seated a number\nof substantial citizens conversing together with their hands in their\npockets, and wearing the self-sufficient air of men the extent of whose\npurse and credit were well understood.\n\nThey fixed, at first, a scrutinizing glance on the new arrivals, and\nthen resumed their conversation.\n\n\u201cCome, come, let us be off now!\u201d exclaimed a young man, balancing himself\non one foot. \u201cHere is half an hour lost, and I declare I must be at\nChelsea to dinner.\u201d\n\n\u201cIndeed, it is already an hour. Look here! This cockswain doesn\u2019t\nresemble our parliament at all; _that_ does everything it is told to do!\u201d\nhe added, as he sauntered into the midst of the crowd.\n\n\u201cHold your tongue, William,\u201d immediately replied one of them; \u201cyou don\u2019t\nrecollect any more, I suppose, the assembly at Bridewell, where the king,\nknowing we condemned his course in the divorce affair, after having\nseized all the arms in the city, told us himself there was no head so\nhigh but he would make it fall if it attempted to resist him.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat shameful tyranny!\u201d replied another, rolling a bundle under\nhis foot. \u201cI cannot think of it without my blood boiling. Are these\nEnglishmen he treats in this manner?\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd that wicked cardinal,\u201d continued his neighbor in a loud, shrill\nvoice--\u201che was standing by the king, and looking at us with his\nthreatening eyes. He has been the cause of all the troubles we have had\nwith this affair. But we are rid of him, at last.\u201d\n\n\u201cWe are rid of him, did you say?\u201d interrupted a man about fifty or sixty\nyears of age, who appeared to be naturally phlegmatic and thoughtful.\n\u201cYou are very well contented, it seems to me; \u2026 but it is because you\nonly think of the present, and give yourself no concern whatever about\nthe future. Ah! well, in a few days we will see if you are as well\nsatisfied.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd why not then?\u201d they all exclaimed in the same voice.\n\n\u201cBecause, I tell you, because \u2026\u201d\n\n\u201cExplain yourself more clearly, Master Wrilliot,\u201d continued young\nWilliam. \u201cYou always know what\u2019s going to happen better than anybody\nelse.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! yes, I know it only too well, in fact, my young friend,\u201d he replied,\nshaking his head ominously; \u201cand we will very soon learn to our sorrow\nthat if the favor of the cardinal costs us dear, his disgrace will cost\nus still more. Parliament is going to remit all the king\u2019s debts.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat! all of his debts? But Parliament has no right to do this!\u201d they\nall exclaimed.\n\n\u201cNo; but it will take the right!\u201d replied Master Wrilliot. \u201cWilliam will\nlose half of his wife\u2019s marriage portion, which, if I mistake not, his\nfather gave him in royal trust; and I shall lose fifteen thousand crowns\nfor which I was foolish enough to accept the deed of conveyance.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! ah! that will be too unjust; it ought not to be,\u201d they all repeated.\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d continued this far-seeing interlocutor, shaking his head\ncontemptuously, \u201cthe king has no money to pay us. War has drained his\nprivate treasury, but he nevertheless draws from it abundant means to\nransom French princes, who make him believe they will marry him to that\nlady Boleyn; and if you do not believe me, go ask these Frenchmen who are\nhere present,\u201d he added, raising his voice, and casting on MM. du Bellay\nand de Vaux a glance of cold, disdainful wrath.\n\nM. du Bellay had lost nothing of the conversation; it was held too near\nhim, and was too openly hostile for him to feign not to remark it.\nFinding himself recognized, and neither being able to reply to a positive\ninterrogation nor to keep silence, he measured in his turn, very coolly,\nand without permitting the least indication of emotion or anger to\nappear, the face and form of his adversary.\n\n\u201cSir;\u201d he exclaimed, regarding him steadily, \u201cwho are you, and by what\nright do you call me to account? If it is your curiosity that impels you,\nit will not be gratified; if, on the contrary, you dare seek to insult\nme, you should know I will not suffer it. Answer me!\u201d\n\n\u201cThe best you can make of it will be worth nothing,\u201d replied, with\na loud burst of laughter, a Genoese merchant who did not recognize\nthe ambassador, as he sat by the men who directed the boat. \u201cForget\nyour quarrel, gentlemen, and, instead of disputing, come look at this\nbeautiful vessel we are just going to pass. See, she is getting ready\nto sail. A fine ship-load!--a set of adventurers who go to try their\nfortunes in the new world discovered by one of my countrymen,\u201d he added\nwith an air of intense satisfaction.\n\n\u201cPoor Columbus!\u201d replied one of the citizens, \u201che experienced throughout\nhis life that glory does not give happiness, and envy and ingratitude\nunited together to crush his genius. Do you not believe, if he could have\nforeseen the cruelties Hernando Cortez and Pizarro exercised toward the\npeople whom he discovered, he would have preferred leaving the secret of\ntheir existence buried for ever in the bosom of the stormy sea that bore\nhim to Europe, rather than to have announced there the success of his\nvoyage?\u201d\n\n\u201cI believe it,\u201d said Wrilliot, \u201chis soul was so beautiful! He loved\nhumanity.\u201d\n\n\u201cChristopher Columbus!\u201d exclaimed young William, full of youthful\nenthusiasm and admiration for a man whose home was the ocean. \u201cI cannot\nhear his name pronounced without emotion! I always imagine I see him\nin that old convent of Salamanca, before those learned professors and\nerudite monks assembled to listen to a project which in their opinion was\nas rash as it was foolish.\n\n\u201c\u2018How do you suppose,\u2019 said they, \u2018that your vessel will ever reach the\nextremity of the Indies, since you pretend that the earth is round? You\nwould never be able to return; for what amount of wind do you imagine it\nwould require to enable your ship to remount the liquid mountain which\nit had so easily descended? And do you forget that no creature can live\nunder the scorching atmosphere of the torrid zone?\u2019\n\n\u201cColumbus refuted their arguments; but these doctors still insisted,\nnor hesitated to openly demand of him how he could be so presumptuous\nas to believe, if the thing had been as he said, it could have remained\nundiscovered by so many illustrious men, born before him, and who had\nattained the highest degree of learning, while for him alone should have\nbeen reserved the development of this grand idea.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd yet,\u201d said Wrilliot, who had listened in silence, \u201cit was permitted,\nsome years later, that he should go down to the grave wearing the chains\nwith which his persecutors had loaded him, in order to keep him away from\nthe world that he alone had been able to discover!\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat perseverance! What obstacles he succeeded in overcoming!\u201d replied\none of those who had first spoken. \u201cI shall always, while I live, recall\nwith pleasure having been of service to his brother Bartholomew when he\ncame to this country.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat! he came here?\u201d repeated William.\n\n\u201cYes, and was in my own house,\u201d continued the citizen. \u201cChristopher,\nfinding the senate of Genoa and the King of Portugal refused equally\nto listen or furnish him with vessels necessary for the enterprise\nhe had so long meditated, sent his brother to King Henry VII. He was\nunfortunately captured, in coming over, by some pirates, who kept him in\nslavery. Many years elapsed before he succeeded in escaping and reaching\nEngland, where he found himself reduced to such a state of destitution\nthat he was obliged to design charts for a living, and to enable him to\npresent himself in decent apparel at court. The king gave him a favorable\nreception, but Christopher, in the meantime, receiving no intelligence\nfrom his brother, solicited so earnestly the court of Spain that he\nobtained two small vessels from Isabella of Castile, and very soon after\nEurope learned of the existence of another hemisphere. Spain planted her\nstandard there, and we thus lost the advantages which were destined for\nus.\u201d\n\n\u201cI do not regret it,\u201d replied an old man sitting in the midst of the\ncrowd, who had until that time maintained a profound silence. \u201cIs it\nnot better for a nation to be less rich and powerful than stained with\nso many crimes? It is now but thirty-eight years since Columbus founded\nthe colony of San Domingo. This island then contained a million of\ninhabitants; to-day there scarcely remain forty thousand. But,\u201d pursued\nthe old man with a bitter smile, \u201cthey will not stop there. No; they will\nnot confine their barbarous exploits to that miserable region. They are\nrenewing in Peru the carnage they carried on in Mexico. It is necessary\nto have a great many places for a man to die--to pass a few moments, and\nthen go and hide himself in the grave! I have already lived seventy-nine\nyears, and yet it seems to me now that my left hand still rests on my\ncradle. I can scarcely believe that these white locks are scattered upon\nmy head; for my life has sped like the fleeting dream of a single night\nthat has passed. Yes, William,\u201d continued the old man, \u201cyou look at me\nwith astonishment, and your eyes, full of youthful fire, are fixed upon\nmine, in which the light has long been extinguished. Ah! well, you will\nvery soon see it extinguished in your own, but not before you will have\nwitnessed all their cruelties.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is bad,\u201d replied William. \u201cBut these Indians are stupid and\nindolent beyond all parallel;[232] they will neither work nor pay the\ntaxes imposed on them.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd from whom do the Spaniards claim the right of reducing these people\nto a state of servitude,\u201d exclaimed the old man indignantly, \u201cand to\ntreat them like beasts of burden whom they are privileged to exterminate\nwith impunity, and carry off the gold their avarice covets, the dagger\nin one hand, the scourge in the other? They ensure them, they say, the\nhappiness of knowing the Christian religion! How dare they presume to\ninstruct these people in that Gospel of peace which commands us to love\nour neighbor as ourselves, to detach our hearts from the things of the\nworld, and, leaving our offering before the altar, go and be reconciled\nwith our enemy?\u201d\n\n\u201cFrom that point of view your argument would seem just,\u201d replied William;\n\u201cbut the fact is, if the Spaniards did not force these islanders to work\nthem, the mines would remain unproductive, the fields uncultivated, and\nthe colonies would perish.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are mistaken,\u201d replied the old man. \u201cIn acting as she does Spain\ndestroys in her own womb the source from whence she would draw an immense\nrevenue. If she had been satisfied to establish an honest and peaceable\ncommerce with these countries, her industry, excited to the highest\ndegree by the rich commodities of exchange, would have conferred an\nincalculable benefit on an entire people whom her blind cupidity has\ninduced her to crush and destroy.\n\n\u201cDo you suppose these isolated negroes they buy at such enormous prices\nwill ever be able to replace the native inhabitants who live and die in\ntheir own country? This strange and ferocious population will remain\namong the colonies, enemies always ready to revolt; a yoke of iron and\nblood will alone be sufficient to keep them in subjection. But let these\nmasters tremble if ever the power falls into the hands of their slaves!\u201d\n\nMM. du Bellay and de Vaux listened to this conversation in silence, and\nthe diversion was at first agreeable; but they were soon convinced that\nthey were suddenly becoming again the objects of general attention.\n\n\u201cI tell you,\u201d exclaimed one, \u201cthey are going to look for the cardinal and\nbring him back to court.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell!\u201d replied another, \u201cI would like to see M. du Bellay in the place\nof the legate Campeggio.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! and what have they done with him, then?\u201d they all eagerly demanded.\n\n\u201cHe was arrested at Dover, where he had gone to embark. He was\ndreadfully alarmed, believing they came to assassinate him. His baggage\nwas searched, in order to find Wolsey\u2019s treasures, with which he was\nentrusted, they said, for safe keeping.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd did they find them?\u201d asked the Genoese merchant, eagerly leaning\nforward at the sound of the word treasure.\n\n\u201cIt seems they did not find them,\u201d was the reply.\n\n\u201cHear what they say!\u201d whispered young De Vaux in the ear of M. du Bellay.\n\n\u201cI presume they were in search of the legal documents, but they were too\nlate. They have long ago arrived in Italy. Campeggio was careful enough\nto send them secretly by his _son_ Rudolph.[233] I often saw this young\nman in Rome, and heard him say his father had entrusted him with all his\ncorrespondence and despatches,[234] as he was not certain what fate Henry\nhad in store for him.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou say,\u201d replied young William, elevating his voice in order that M. du\nBellay might hear him, \u201cthat the king has sent the Earl of Wiltshire to\nRome to solicit his divorce. He had better make all these strangers leave\nwho come into our country only to sow discord, and then gather the fruits\nof their villany.\u201d\n\nThis speech, although spoken indirectly, was evidently intended for\nthe two Frenchmen; but the Genoese merchant, always inclined to be\nsuspicious, immediately applied it to himself.\n\n\u201cMaster William,\u201d he exclaimed, reddening with anger, \u201chave you forgotten\nthat for twenty years I have been a commercial friend of your father.\nAnd if he has made his fortune with our velvets and silks, to whom does\nhe owe it, if not to those who, by their honesty and promptness in\nfulfilling their engagements, were the first cause of his success? Now,\nbecause you are able to live without work, you take on this insulting\nmanner--very insulting indeed. However, I give you to understand that,\nif it suited me to do it, I could make as great a display of luxury\nand wealth as yourself, and can count on my dresser as many dishes and\nflagons of silver as you have; and if it suited me to remain at home,\nthere is no necessity for me to travel any more on business.\u201d\n\nThe merchant continued to boast of his fortune, and William began to\nexplain that his remarks were by no means intended for him, when the\npassengers began to cry out: \u201cLand! land! Here is Chelsea; we land at\nChelsea.\u201d\n\nThe rowers halted immediately, and the little boats sent from the shore\ncame to take off the passengers who wished to land.\n\nAlmost all of them went; none remaining on the boat except the\nambassador, the Genoese merchant, and two citizens whose retiring and\nprudent character could be read in the quiet, thoughtful expression of\ntheir faces. They gazed for a long time on the surrounding country; at\nlast one of them hazarded the question:\n\n\u201cDo you know who owns that white house with the terraced garden extending\ndown to the bank of the Thames?\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is the residence of Sir Thomas More, the new chancellor,\u201d replied\nhis companion methodically.\n\n\u201cAh! it does not make much show. Do you know this new chancellor?\u201d\n\n\u201cBy my faith, no! However, I saw him the other day on the square at\nWestminster, as I was passing; the Dukes of Norfolk and Suffolk were\nconducting him with great ceremony to the Star Chamber (at least that\nis what they told me). I stopped to look at him. There was an immense\ncrowd filling all the square. In crossing it the Duke of Norfolk stopped,\nand, turning to the crowd before him, said the king had instructed him\nto publicly proclaim what great and important services Sir Thomas had\nrendered him in every position he had confided to his care, and it was\non that account he esteemed him so highly, and had appointed him now to\nthe highest position in the kingdom because of his virtues and the rare\ntalents he possessed. Everybody listened and said nothing (because you\nknow the last is always the best).\u201d The citizen said this in a very low\ntone.\n\n\u201cMore replied very well,\u201d he continued. \u201cHe said that, while deeply\ngrateful for his majesty\u2019s goodness and favors, he felt no less deeply\nconvinced that the king had rewarded him far beyond his merits; in all\nhe had accomplished he had but done his duty, and he greatly feared now\nthat he might not possess the ability necessary for acquitting himself of\nthe duties of so high and important an office. And--a very singular thing\n(for they do not usually speak of their predecessors)--he declared that\nhe could not rejoice in the honor conferred on him, as it recalled the\nname of the wise and honorable prelate whom he had superseded. On hearing\nthat I supposed they would hiss; but not at all. He said everything so\nwell, with so much sincerity, dignity, and firmness, that they applauded\nhim with an indescribable enthusiasm. It seemed those who knew him were\nnever satisfied with praising him. Nobody, they said, rendered justice so\nscrupulously as he; none were so wise, so disinterested; in fact, they\nnever ended the recital of his perfections.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh!\u201d said the other, in a voice scarcely audible, while he looked round\nto discover if any one could hear him, \u201cwe will see later if he performs\nall these wonderful things, and if any one will be able to get near him\nwithout paying even his doorkeeper, as was the case with the other.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, we will see,\u201d replied his companion. \u201cNone of these great lords are\nworth much--any amount of _promises_; but of _deeds_--nothing!\u201d\n\n\u201cBut this is not a great lord,\u201d answered the citizen.\n\n\u201cAh! well, it is all the same; as soon as they rise, they grow proud,\nand despise and scorn the people. You may believe if ever I obtain a\npatent of nobility, and become still richer than I am now, I will crush\nthem beautifully; there will not be one who will dare contradict me. By\nmy faith! it is a great pity I had not been born a count or a baron;\nI should have been so well up to all their impertinences and want of\nfeeling.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is not very difficult,\u201d replied his companion; \u201cyou are, I think,\nsufficiently so now for the good of that poor youth who wants to marry\nyour daughter. He will lose his senses, I am afraid, poor fellow.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat did you say, neighbor?\u201d replied the citizen, feeling the blood\nmount to his face. \u201cDo you think I will give my daughter to a wretch who\nhas not a cent in the world--I who have held in my family the right of\ncitizenship from time immemorial? My grandmother also told me we have had\ntwo aldermen of our name. All that counts, you see, Master Allicot; and\nif you wish to remain my friend, I advise you not to meddle yourself with\nthe tattle of my wife and daughter on the subject of that little wretch\nthey are putting it into her head to marry; because, in truth, the mother\nis as bad as the daughter. Ah! neighbor, these women, these women are the\nplagues of our lives! Don\u2019t say any more to me about it. They will run\nme distracted; but they will make nothing by it, I swear it, neighbor.\nThe silly jades! to dare speak to me of such a match! Hush! don\u2019t say any\nmore to me about it, neighbor; for it will drive me mad!\u201d\n\nThe neighbor _did_ reply, however, because he had been commissioned to\nuse his influence in softening the husband and father in favor of a young\nmechanic full of life and health, who had no other fault than that of\nbelonging to a class less elevated than that of the proud citizen who\nrejected his humble supplications with scorn.\n\nBut the _d\u00e9nouement_ of this embassy, and the termination of this\nromance of the warehouse, have been for ever lost to history; for M. du\nBellay, seeing they were almost in sight of Asher, made them land him,\nand the two honorable citizens doubtless continued their journey and\ntheir conversation.\n\nAt Asher M. du Bellay found everything just as he expected. The\nphysicians surrounded Wolsey\u2019s bed, watching his slightest movement.\nThe golden tablets of young Anne Boleyn were thrown open upon the\ncoarse woollen bedspread that covered the sick man. Cromwell walked the\nfloor with folded arms. He approached the bed from time to time, looked\nat Wolsey, whose closed eyes and labored breathing betokened nothing\nfavorable, then at the golden tablets, then at the physicians around\nhim. He seemed to say, \u201cIs he going to die, and just when he might be so\nuseful to me?\u201d\n\nOn seeing M. du Bellay enter, his countenance lighted up; he ran on\nbefore him, and endeavored to arouse Wolsey from his stupor.\n\n\u201cMy lord, the ambassador of France!\u201d he cried in the ear of the dying man.\n\nBut he received no reply.\n\n\u201cIt is singular,\u201d said the doctors, \u201cnothing can arouse him.\u201d And they\nlooked gravely at each other.\n\n\u201cHe will not die! I tell you he will not die!\u201d replied Cromwell, evincing\nthe most impatient anxiety.\n\nHe approached the cardinal and shook his head.\n\n\u201cCrom--well,\u201d murmured the sick man.\n\n\u201cMonsieur du Bellay!\u201d shouted Cromwell a second time.\n\nWolsey\u2019s eyes remained closed.\n\n\u201cLet him alone,\u201d cried the physicians; \u201che must not be excited.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo I think,\u201d said M. du Bellay. \u201cYou can tell him I have been here,\u201d\ncontinued the ambassador, turning towards Cromwell, \u201cbut did not wish to\ndisturb him.\u201d\n\nM. du Bellay then took his leave, and returned by the land route to\nLondon. He encountered, not far from Asher, a party of the cardinal\u2019s old\ndomestics, whom the king had sent to carry him several wagon-loads of\nfurniture and other effects. At the head of this convoy rode Cavendish,\none of the cardinal\u2019s most faithful servants.\n\nSeeing M. du Bellay, they collected around him, and hastily inquired\nabout their master.\n\nDu Bellay advised them to quicken their speed, and, taking leave, went\non his way, thinking that the cardinal would not be restored to favor,\nand already arranging in his mind another course in which to direct his\ndiplomatic steps for the future.\n\nHe was not mistaken: Wolsey escaped death, but only to find himself\nsurrounded by misery and abandoned to despair.\n\nTO BE CONTINUED.\n\n\nPRIMITIVE CIVILIZATION.[235]\n\nIf our modern men of science would not travel out of their sphere,\nthere would be no war between them and the church. In the name of the\nCatholic religion we invite them to push onward in the path of scientific\ndiscovery with the utmost energy and ardor of which they are capable.\nBut if their discoveries are to have any bearing on the truths of the\nChristian revelation, we can accept nothing less than demonstration, and\nthey must not credit science, as does Mr. Tyndall, with mere theories\nof speculative philosophy. With this reservation, we wish their labors\nall possible success. But if poor fallible reason--whose discoveries,\nafter whole millenniums of toil, are little better than a record of the\nblunders of one generation corrected by the blunders of another; and,\neven on the supposition that they are all correct, are, by comparison\nwith what is unknown, as a drop of water compared with the limitless\nocean--ventures to deny the existence of the soul because it has no\nlens powerful enough to bring it within the cognizance of the senses,\nits conclusion is no longer scientific. The doctor has become a quack,\nthe philosopher a fool. If the torch which the Creator has placed at\nthe service of his creature, to help him to grope his way amidst the\nobjects of sense, and to illuminate his faith, is to be flung in his\nface because it does not reveal the whole infinitude of the majesty of\nhis beauty, we can only compassionate so childish a misuse of a noble\ngift. If natural philosophy is to rob the sensible creation of a motive\nand end, and to proclaim it to be merely the result of an unintelligent\natomic attraction and evolution of forces, a more intelligent and a\nmore logical philosophy, in harmony with the unquenchable instinct of\nimmortality within the human soul, casts from it such pitiful trifling\nwith indignation and a holy disdain. If, in short, the science of nature\nwould dethrone nature\u2019s Creator and God, we address to it the word which\nHe to whom all true science leads addressed to the ocean he placed in the\ndeep hollows of the earth: \u201cHitherto thou shalt come, and thou shalt go\nno farther: and here thou shalt break thy swelling waves.\u201d\n\nPhysical science cannot contradict the divine revelation. No discovery\nhitherto made has done so; and until one such presents itself we are\nentitled to assume its impossibility as a philosophical axiom. For this\nreason we are of those who would give full rein to even the speculations\nof experimental philosophy, so long as they are confined strictly within\nthe domain of secondary causes or natural law, and do not venture into a\nsphere of thought beyond the reach of experimental science, where they\nare immediately confronted with the dogmas of the faith.\n\nWe have never thought that the theory of the evolution of species\nmust of necessity transgress that limit. It has been made to do so by\n_philosophuli_, if we may invent a name for them--speculative bigots,\nwho are bent on extorting from natural phenomena any plausible support\nof the infidel prejudices of which they were previously possessed. A\nmore intelligent observation of scientific facts would have saved them\nfrom a ridiculous extravagance which makes them resemble those afflicted\ncreatures, whom we so often meet with in asylums for the insane, who\nsuppose themselves to be God.\n\nWe must never lose sight of the fact that God can only communicate with\nhis creature in such a way as he can understand. If he were to reveal\nhimself to any of us as he is, we should die, unless he supplied us with\na miraculous capacity for supporting the vision. If he had inspired the\nhistorian of those primitive ages to describe the astronomical phenomenon\nwhich happened in the time of Joshua in the exact language of physical\nscience, what meaning would it have conveyed to people who did not\nknow that the earth revolves around its own axis and around the sun?\nIf it be objected, Why did not the Holy Spirit use language consistent\nwith scientific truth, and leave it to be understood afterwards in the\nprogress of science? we reply, Because it would have thwarted his own\ndesigns to have done so. The Bible is a book of instruction in truth out\nof the reach of human intelligence, not a book of natural science; and\nit appeals to the obedience of faith rather than to reason. The mental\ntoil of scientific discovery was a part of the punishment inflicted on\nthe original transgression. To anticipate the result of that toil by\nthousands of years would have been to contradict His own dispensation.\n\nIn the same manner the sublime record of the genesis of the illimitable\nuniverse which weaves its dance of light in space is told in a few\nsentences: The fiat of Him with whom one day is as a thousand years,\nand a thousand years as one day, and the successive order of the\ncreation--that is all. Time was not then, for it was the creation of\ntime. Man can conceive no ideas independent of time, and so days are\nnamed; but it is evident that the word may stand for indeterminate\nperiods of time. The creation of light was, it cannot be doubted,\ninstantaneous. But that creation was a law--limitation, relation,\nsuccession--whose working was an evolution in successive orders or\nstages, over which presided the Creator, and still presides. \u201cMy Father\nworketh hitherto, and I work.\u201d Each of these was a distinct creation,\nperfect in itself, not an evolution of species. The creation was\nprogressive, but not in the sense of the creation of every one of its\nsix cycles evolving out of the preceding one; for in that case either\nthe lower would have disappeared or the evolution would be still in\noperation. The firmament did not develop out of light, nor the ocean\nand the dry land out of the firmament; nor were the fishes an evolution\nfrom the sea-weed, nor the birds from the trees and shrubs, nor the wild\nbeasts from the reeds of the jungle, nor man from the lower animals. But\nthey were all to be made before his creation who was the sum and end\nof all; and the atmosphere must be created before the birds, the ocean\nbefore the fishes, the dry land before vegetable life.\n\nAnd not only was there never any evolution of species into other species,\nbut the creation of every separate species was complete, so that\nthere has never been an evolution of any species into a higher state\nor condition. There has never been any progress in that sense. Every\nspecies, including the human being, remains precisely as it issued from\nthe hand of God, when it has not degenerated or disappeared. Indeed,\nthe tendency of all living things around us is to degeneracy and decay.\nWhatever progress can be predicated of man is of his moral nature only,\nand of his knowledge, through the divine revelation. But even that is not\na race progress, an evolution of species, but an individual one. If this\nbe conceded--and we think it scarcely admits of dispute--we see no danger\nto the dogmas of the faith in allowing to the natural philosophers any\nlength of ages they may claim for the creation of the home of man before\nhe was called into being for whom it was destined.\n\nWhatever period of time was covered by those cycles of creation,\nthroughout them it may be said that he was being made. If all was for\nhim and to end in him, it was in effect he who all along was being made.\nYet the whole was only a preparatory creation. It was only his body in\nwhich all resulted. \u201cA body thou hast prepared for me.\u201d It was when \u201cGod\nbreathed into his nostrils the breath of life\u201d that man was created. It\nwas then he became \u201ca living soul.\u201d\n\nThe error of the physicists who reject revelation is threefold. They make\nthe body the man; they thus assign to his body and the inner principle\nwhich animates it a simultaneous beginning and joint development, some\nof them going so far as to make the spirit itself, or soul, or whatever\nthey call the animating principle, the spontaneous product of material\nforces. And, throwing back the beginning of the evolution process into\nuntold ages, by comparison with which the life of an individual is a\nscarcely appreciable moment, they suppose the process to be still going\non as it begun. All this obviously contradicts the direct statements of\nrevelation. It is, indeed, shocking to mere human reason. The work of the\nnatural creation ended with the sixth day. Up to that time, whether the\nperiods were long or short, the work was going on. But it was complete\nwhen the body which had been prepared for him was animated with the\nspirit of life. After that there was no farther development. It is\ncontrary to reason to suppose it. It is contrary to the whole analogy of\nnature. Not an instance can be adduced, throughout the entire creation,\nof one species developing into another--not an instance even of any\nspecies developing within itself into a higher order of being. But up to\nthat period, of which it is thus written, _Igitur PERFECTI SUNT c\u0153li et\nterra, et omnis ornatus eorum: COMPLEVITQUE Deus die septimo opus suum\nquod fecerat; et requievit die septimo ab uni verso opere quod patrarat_,\nwe may admit, without risk of heterodoxy, any doctrine of evolution of\nwhich the physicists may give us a satisfactory evidence.\n\nThe physicists, in support of their irrational theory of evolution,\nmaintain that the earliest developments of human consciousness were of\nthe lowest order, and that man has ever since been gradually progressing\ntowards a higher morality and loftier spheres of thought. In this able\nand interesting work Father Th\u00e9baud demonstrates, by an exhaustive\ninduction from the history and literature of all the nations, that the\nhistory of mankind up to the coming of Christ, instead of a progress, was\na continual retrogression.\n\nIn his introductory chapter he establishes, by proofs which should be\nconclusive to all minds unprepossessed by an arrogant perversity, that\nprimitive man was in possession of a primitive revelation. In the morning\ntwilight of the ages, as far back as we can see across the Flood, up to\nthe very cherubim-guarded entrance to the seats of innocence from which\nthe erring creature had been driven, he traces everywhere those rites\nand dogmas, in their elemental form, which, in their complete development\nand full significance, made known to us by the revelation of the fulness\nof time, are still of faith and observance amongst the sons of God from\nend to end of the habitable globe. This revelation did not go beyond\nmonotheism, because the fallen immortal had to be prepared, through\nlong ages of discipline, for the revelation of the triune nature of the\nGodhead, and of his restoration to the forfeited favor of his Father\nby the incarnation and atoning sacrifice of the Eternal Son. We do not\nremember to have met before with the ingenious hypothesis[236] that the\nconfiguration of the earth, consisting of an all-embracing ocean, in the\nmidst of which vast continents are islands, evidences the design of the\nCreator to have been that \u201cmen should have intercourse of some kind with\none another,\u201d and that on the land.\n\n    \u201cThe oceans and rivers, instead of being primarily dividing\n    lines, intended to separate men from one another, had precisely\n    for their first object to become highways and common channels\n    of intercourse between the various nations of mankind.\u201d\n\nBut our author considers that the social intercommunion to which the\nconfiguration of the earth was to administer was not to develop in the\nform of \u201can universal republic,\u201d but that \u201cmen were to consent to exist\nin larger or smaller groups, each of them surrounded with well-defined\nlimits determining numerous nationalities,\u201d united in the bond of\nreligious uniformity which he terms patriarchal Catholicity.\n\nThe design of the Creator of universal brotherhood amongst his creatures\nwas not to be fulfilled before the lapse of ages, and throughout that\ndismal period it has the appearance of being perpetually thwarted\nby their perverseness. The memories of Paradise rapidly faded away\namongst them. After what period of time we are not told, the sons of\nGod committed a second infidelity by intermarrying with the daughters\nof men. The result was a race of giants--giants in capacity and crime\nas well as in bodily form--whose existence universal tradition attests.\nIn almost open alliance with the powers of darkness, they sank with\nsuch fearful rapidity down the abyss of depravation, dragging with them\nthe better portion of the race, that, to avert the triumph of hell and\nthe utter reprobation of his creature, the offended Creator buried the\nguilty memories of colossal crime beneath an universal deluge, at whose\nsubsidence the first civilization reappeared on the mountains of Asia in\nall its earliest purity, brought across the forty days\u2019 extinction of\nlife upon the earth by the eight souls who alone had turned a deaf ear to\nthe universal seduction. \u201cThis idea of a gradual and deeper degradation\nof human kind,\u201d says Frederick Schlegel, \u201cin each succeeding age, appears\nat first sight not to accord very well with the testimony which sacred\ntradition furnishes on man\u2019s primitive state, for it represents the two\nraces of the primitive world as contemporary; and, indeed, Seth, the\nprogenitor of the better and nobler race of virtuous patriarchs, was much\nyounger than Cain. However, this contradiction is only apparent, if we\nreflect that it was the wicked and violent race which drew the other into\nits disorders, and that it was from this contamination a giant corruption\nsprang, which continually increased, till, with a trifling exception, it\npervaded the whole mass of mankind, and till the justice of God required\nthe extirpation of degenerate humanity by one universal flood.\u201d\n\nIt does not admit of a moment\u2019s doubt, as our author argues, that with\nthis terrible judgment began the dissolution of that fraternal unity\nwhich God had intended should be the happy lot of the human family,\nand for which the configuration of the earth was adapted. The gigantic\nunity of crime was smitten to pieces in the helplessness of division.\nThey who had been brothers looked in one another\u2019s faces and found them\nstrange. They opened their lips, and, lo! their speech was to others a\njargon of unintelligible sounds. The one could no more understand the\nother than they could the wolf or the jackal with whom they both began\nto be mutually classed. The intercommunion of families of men with one\nanother was rudely snapped asunder. There were no means of common action,\nthere was no medium of common thought. The fragments into which the human\nfamily were smitten went off in different directions, to post themselves,\nin attitudes of mutual distrust and defiance, behind mountains or\nmorasses, on the skirts of forests, the borders of torrents, or in\nthe security of measureless deserts, where their practised eyes swept\nthe horizon. Intercommunion was rendered still more impossible by the\nmutual antagonism, fear, and hatred that prevailed. And the very ocean,\ninstead of being a pathway for the interchange of social life, became a\nformidable barrier between man and man. The dangers to be encountered\non the lands to which the winds might bear them were more to be dreaded\nthan the terrible phantoms which, issuing ever and anon from the home\nof the storms, raged across the ocean, and lashed into merciless fury\nits roaring waves. Memory had lost, in the primeval language, the key of\nits treasure-house. As years went on, amidst the exacting preoccupations\nof new ways of life, new surroundings, new ways of expressing their\nthoughts, and their increasing tribal or race isolation, the ideas upon\nwhich their primeval civilization had been based grew dimmer and dimmer,\nuntil they finally disappeared.\n\n\u201cTo establish this in detail,\u201d says the author of _Gentilism_, \u201cis the\npurpose of this work.\u201d And this purpose appears to us to have been\naccomplished in the most convincing manner.\n\nThe scientists maintain, and it is necessary to their evolution theory,\nthat man began with barbarism, and moved slowly onwards in the gradual\nstages of their tedious evolution process towards what they call\ncivilization, which is to lead, we believe, in the future developments of\nthe ever-continuing evolution, to some loftier state and condition, of\nthe nature of which they supply us with not the faintest idea.\n\nThis notion of the original barbarism of man is one of those fallacies\nwhich get imbedded in the general belief of mankind one knows not how.\nStrange to say, it has been very generally acquiesced in for no manner\nof reason; and it is only of late years that thoughtful men, outside of\nthe faith, have come to suspect that it is not quite the truism they had\nimagined.\n\nThere is a reason for this: The attenuation of the claims of another\nworld on the every-day life and on the conduct of men effected by the\ngreat revolt of the XVIth century, and the keener relish for the things\nof this life which consequently ensued, have infected the sentiments of\nmankind with an exaggerated sense of the importance of material objects\nand pursuits. Thus the idea of civilization, instead of being that of\nthe highest development of the moral and whole inner being of social\nman, is limited to the discovery of all the unnumbered ways and means of\nadministering to the embellishment and luxury of his actual life. His\nvery mental progress, as they term it with extraordinary incorrectness,\nis only regarded in this light.\n\n    \u201cThe speculators on the stone, bronze, and iron ages,\u201d writes\n    our author, \u201cplace civilization almost exclusively in the\n    enjoyment by man of a multitude of little inventions of his\n    own, many of which certainly are derived from the knowledge and\n    use of metals. Any nation deprived of them cannot be called\n    civilized in their opinion, because reduced to a very simple\n    state of life, which, they say unhesitatingly, is barbarism.\u2026\n    Barbarism, in fact, depends much more on moral degradation\n    than on physical want of comfort. And when we come to describe\n    patriarchal society, our readers will understand how a tribe\n    or nation may deserve to be placed on an exalted round of the\n    social ladder, although living exclusively on the fruits of the\n    earth, and cultivating it with a simple wooden plough.\u201d[237]\n\nFather Th\u00e9baud next proceeds, with convincing force, to demolish the\nargument in behalf of the gradual evolution of the entire race from\na state of barbarism, which the evolutionists allege to have been\ninevitably its first stage of intellectual consciousness drawn from the\ndiscovery of human skeletons in caves, and in the drift of long past\nages, in juxtaposition with instruments of rude construction belonging to\nthe pal\u00e6olithic age and fossil remains of extinct animals. This argument\nhas always appeared to us so feeble as to seem a mystery how it could be\nemployed by learned men, unless in support of some preconceived opinion\nwhich they would maintain at all hazards. The occasional outbreaks of the\nMississippi, the terrible devastation effected by the mere overflow of\nthe Garonne in the South of France, give but a faint idea of what changes\nmust have been effected upon the crust of the earth by the subsidence of\nthe huge mass of water, which must have been at least eight or nine times\nas ponderous as all the oceans which have since lain at peace in its\nhollows. As the prodigious volumes of water, sucked and drawn hither and\nthither, as they hurried to their mountain-bed, rushed in furious tides\nand vast whirlpools of terrific force, they must have torn up the earth\u2019s\ncrust like a rotten rag. Whole valleys must have been scooped out down\nto the very root of the mountains, and _d\u00e9bris_ of all kinds deposited\neverywhere in all kinds of confusion, so as to afford no secure data\nwhatever for chronological, or zo\u00f6logical, or geological deductions.\n\nStill more conclusive is Father Th\u00e9baud\u2019s refutation of the argument\nin behalf of the evolution theory drawn from the discovery of stone\nimplements of rude construction in what is asserted to be the earliest\ndrift deposit of iron in the later strata, and bronze in the latest. To\nmake this argument of any force it must be proved that these periods\nevolved regularly and invariably from one another throughout the whole\nrace of mankind. Their _periodicity_, as Father Th\u00e9baud has it, must be\nindisputably proved. But this is just what it cannot be. On the contrary,\n\n    \u201cIn this last age in which we live; in the previous ages,\n    which we can know by clear and unobjectionable history;\n    finally, in the dimmest ages of antiquity of which we possess\n    any sufficiently reliable records, the three \u2018periods\u2019 of\n    stone, bronze, and iron have always subsisted simultaneously,\n    and consequently are no more \u2018periods\u2019 when we speak of the\n    aggregate of mankind, but they are only three co-existing\n    aspects of the same specific individual.\u201d[238]\n\nTo the same effect is the argument that\n\n    \u201cThe artistic distance between the rough pal\u00e6olithic flints\n    and the polished stones of the neolithic period exhibits a gap\n    which tells but indifferently in favor of the believers in\n    continuous progress. Either there has been a strange severment\n    of continuity, or the men of the first period were better\n    artists, and not such rough barbarians as the remains we\n    possess of them seem to attest.\u201d\n\nThe scientific arguments, however, of Father Th\u00e9baud, in disproof of\nthe alleged original barbarism of the human race, satisfactory as they\nare, as far as they go, are little more than introductory to the more\nconclusive historical argument which constitutes the body of his valuable\nand very opportune work. \u201cThe best efforts to ascertain the origin of\nman,\u201d he justly remarks, \u201cor primeval religion, by the facts of geology\nor zo\u00f6logy, can at best only result in more or less probable conjectures.\u201d\n\nIn an argument of this nature our author begins, as was to have been\nexpected, from that philosophical, impassive, and ancient people who\ninhabit the triangular peninsula which stretches out from no vast\ndistance from the original seat of the renewed race of man into the\nSoutheastern Atlantic. There they have dwelt from times beyond which\nhistory does not reach. Inheriting a civilization which dates from the\nsubsiding Deluge, whose gradual decadence can be distinctly traced, they\nare in possession of the earliest writings that exist, unless the books\nof Moses or the book of Job are older, which, we do not think it is rash\nto say, is, at least, doubtful. We find ourselves in the presence of the\nnoblest truths of even supernatural religion, mingled, it is true, with\nthe gross pantheistical absurdities which had already begun to deface the\nprimitive revelation and to deteriorate the primitive civilization.\n\nThe general process throughout the world was, no doubt, as Father Th\u00e9baud\ndescribes--\n\n    \u201cAfter a period of universal monotheism, the nations began to\n    worship \u2018the works of God,\u2019 and fell generally into a broad\n    pantheism. They took subsequently a second step, perfectly well\n    marked, later on, in Hindostan, Central Asia, Egypt, Greece,\n    etc.--a step originating everywhere in the imagination of\n    poets, materializing God, bringing him down to human nature\n    and weakness, and finally idealizing and deifying his supposed\n    representations in statuary and painting.\u201d[239]\n\nBut we must venture to differ from Father Th\u00e9baud as to the religion of\nthe Hindoos having ever taken the latter step. The form its pantheism\ntook, in consequence of its tenets of the incarnations of Vishnu--the\nsecond god of the triad--and of metempsychosis, was a worship of animals,\nand especially of the cow--a worship which prevails to this day. But\nthis was not the gross idolatry of the Greeks and Romans, but rather a\nrespect, a _cultus_, in consequence of the supposed _possible_ presence\nin the former of departed friends, and of the incarnation of the divinity\nin the latter. Their idols are huge material representations of the might\nand repose which are the chief attributes of the Hindoo deity, or of\nanimals with which the above-named ideas were especially associated; but\nwe do not think they ever were worshipped as was, for example Diana by\nthe Ephesians.\n\nBe this as it may, it in no way affects the incontrovertible testimony\nwhich Father Th\u00e9baud adduces to the high state of civilization of this\nremarkable people fifteen hundred years, at all events, before Christ.\nHe proves it from their social institutions, which issued from a kind\nof tribal municipality closely resembling the Celtic clans, but without\nthe principle of superseding the rightful heir to a deceased _canfinny_\nby another son in consequence of certain disqualifications, and that of\nthe ever-recurring redistribution of land, which were the bane of Celtic\ninstitutions. The caste restrictions, our author shows from the laws of\nMenu, were not nearly so rigorous in those primitive ages; and from the\nsame source he exhibits undeniable proof of that purity of morals which\nevidences the highest stage of civilization, and which has sunk gradually\ndown to the vicious barbarism of the present day. We suspect, however,\nthat this latter has been somewhat exaggerated. It is certainly our\nimpression, taken from works written by those who have lived for years in\nfamiliar intercourse with the people, that amongst the Hindoo women there\nstill lingers conspicuous evidence of the purity of morals which was\nuniversal amongst them in the beginning of their history.\n\nIt might have been added, moreover, that the laws of Menu, in addition\nto their high morality, display a knowledge of finance and political\neconomy, of the science of government, and of the art of developing the\nresources of a people which indicate a very high state of civilization\nindeed.\n\nIt is impossible for us, within the limits assigned us, to follow\nFather Th\u00e9baud through an argument consisting exclusively of learned\ndetail. Our readers, if they would have any proper appreciation of it,\nmust consult the work itself. We remark merely that, starting from the\nadmitted fact that the Vedas contain the doctrine of plain and pure\nmonotheism, and that in those distant ages \u201cdoctrines were promulgated\nand believed in\u201d \u201cwhich far transcend all the most solemn teaching of\nthe greatest philosophers who flourished in the following ages, and\nwhich yield only to the sublime and exquisitely refined teachings of\nIncarnate Wisdom,\u201d[240] our author traces the inroads of pantheism from\nthe time when the doctrine, recently revived by men once Christians, of\nan \u201cuniversal soul\u201d was openly proclaimed, and \u201cwhen it was asserted\nthat our own is a \u2018spark\u2019 from the \u2018blazing fire,\u2019 that God is \u2018all\nbeings,\u2019 and \u2018all beings are God.\u2019\u201d[241] And he traces elaborately the\nchange through the several mystical works of the philosophical Brahmins\nsubsequent to the Vedas. Buddhism is a comparatively modern development.\nWe doubt its being any form of Hindooism whatever. It appears to us to\nbe rather the earliest development of that spirit of hostility to the\nlife-giving truths of the Christian revelation which began its work\nalmost at their very cradle--that abject principle of materialism which,\nafter having dragged down the vast populations of China and of North and\nWestern India to the lowest depths of mental and moral degradation of\nwhich human nature is susceptible, is now sweeping over Christendom, and\nthreatening to \u201cdeceive,\u201d if it were possible, \u201ceven the very elect.\u201d\n\nFather Th\u00e9baud\u2019s next chapter is devoted to a historical review of the\nprimeval religion and its decline in Central Asia and Africa. And here\nthe proof is more overwhelming, if possible, than in the case of India.\nAs to the monotheism of the great Doctor--if we may give him such a\ntitle--of the ancient East, and of the Zends, there can be no manner\nof doubt. Nay, \u201ceven the doctrine of the resurrection of the body is\nclearly contained in the most authentic part of the Zend-Avesta.\u201d There\nis also that august personage, apart from all superior beings under God,\n\u201cwho stands between God and man; shows the way to heaven, and pronounces\njudgment upon human actions after death; guards with his drawn sword\nthe whole world against the demons; has his own light from inside, and\nfrom outside is decorated with stars.\u201d Our author makes Zoroaster,\nat the latest, a contemporary of Moses, and justly observes that the\nZend-Avesta \u201crepresents the thoughts of men very near the origin of\nour species.\u201d Now, the magnificent eloquence and profound truth of the\nthoughts we meet, rivalling at times the Book of Job, the beauty of the\nprayers, and the elaborate splendor of the ritual, testify to a very\ndifferent state of things in those earliest days from that alleged by\nthe evolutionists. Father Th\u00e9baud decides the Zends to be Vedic, and\nnot Persian. And no doubt in the remarkable form and construction of\nthe poems--dramatic, and mostly in the form of dialogue--in the tone of\nthought and leading religious ideas, they closely resemble the Hindoo\nVedas. But it is our impression that we do not find in the writings of\nZoroaster that perpetual insistence on the necessity of absorption into\nthe deity which characterizes the Hindoo poems--the _Bhagav\u00e2t-Gita_, for\nexample. It would appear that the Persians occupied a special place in\nthe dispensation of God in the ancient world. The Holy Spirit, in the\nprophecies, speaks of \u201cmy servant Cyrus whom I have chosen,\u201d and it is\ncertain that the pure monotheistic worship was preserved longer in Persia\nthan in any nation of antiquity, except the Jewish. Its corruption was\ninto dualism, by which the spirit of evil, as in the Indian _Trimourti_,\nwas invested with almost co-ordinate power with the spirit of good. But\nfor full information on this important and interesting subject we must\nrefer the reader to Father Th\u00e9baud himself.\n\nOur limits do not admit of our giving scarcely the faintest outline of\nour author\u2019s argument in proof of the monotheism of Pelasgic Greece, and\nits gradual degradation to a sensual and idolatrous anthropomorphism in\nHellenic and Heroic Greece. The substantial genuineness of the Orphic\nliterature he successfully establishes, as well as the similarity of\nits doctrines to those of the Vedas; from which he draws the obvious\ninference that the two came from the same source, and that that branch\nof the Aryan family carried with them to their more distant settlements\ntraditions of the primitive revelation so conspicuous in the Persian and\nHindoo mystic epics, but much defaced and distorted in the course of\ntheir long and toilsome migrations. If _pure_ monotheism ever prevailed\nin Pelasgic Greece, its reign was short. Indeed, to Orpheus himself are\nascribed pantheistic doctrines. It was the poets who ushered in that\nspecial form of idolatry which took possession of Greece, the worship of\nthe human being deified with all his infirmities--the _anthropomorphism_\nof the gods, as Father Th\u00e9baud calls it. And the chief sinner, on this\nscore, was Homer, the first and greatest of them all. Yet did that\ndensely-populated, unseen world of the Greeks--that sensuous, nay\nvicious, idolatry--which peopled the ocean and the mountains and the\nforests with gods, and imagined a divinity for every fountain, and every\ngrove, and every valley, and every rill, with its superior deities, up to\nthe supreme father of Olympus, himself subject to that forlorn solution\nof the riddle of \u201cevil\u201d--fate--bear witness from Olympus, and from Hades,\nand from the realms of the sea, to the primitive revelation. It bore\nwitness to a civilization from which that degradation of the ideas of\nGod to the level of humanity, in spite of its artistic grace and poetic\nfeeling, deformed, however, by a filthy lasciviousness, with its short\nperiod of literary splendor and of exalted philosophy, ending with the\nsophistical negations of scepticism, was a fall, and not a progress.\n\nFor all this, \u201cthe precious fragments of a primitive revelation are\nfound,\u201d as Father Th\u00e9baud truly observes, \u201cscattered through the\nwritings of nearly all ancient Greek and Latin philosophers and poets.\u201d\nHis two chapters on this subject--chapter vii. on \u201cHellenic Philosophy\nas a Channel of Tradition,\u201d and chapter viii. on \u201cThe Greek and Latin\nPoets as Guardians of Truth\u201d--are perhaps the most interesting part of\nhis most interesting and instructive work. They embrace a subject which\nhas always appeared to us as more worthy of learned labor than any other\nwhich could be named. That life would be well spent which should devote\nitself to collecting all these fragments of traditionary truth from all\nante-Christian literatures. Such a work would not turn back the flood of\nrationalism, whose first risings we owe to Greece--for it is rather moral\nthan intellectual--but it would materially obstruct it, and would rescue\nfrom it many souls which might otherwise be lured to their destruction by\nthe feeble echoes of the sophists and Aristophanes, which, beginning with\nVoltaire, are now multiplying through all the rationalistic press of the\nworld.\n\nMeanwhile, we cordially commend Father Th\u00e9baud\u2019s work on _Gentilism_ to\nthe attentive study of all who wish for solid information and sagacious\ncriticism on a subject which appears to us, without wishing in the least\nto underrate scientific investigation, to be more interesting and more\nimportant than all or any of the discoveries of physical science. These,\nas has been proved of late years, may be turned against the truth, and\nbecome thus a means of darkening instead of enlightening the soul. At the\nbest, be they correct or erroneous, great or small, many or few, they\ncannot add an inch to our stature or a day to our lives. They do not\neven add to our happiness.\n\nBut a false science--one which would assign to each of us an\ninsignificant phenomenal existence, whose individuality will disappear,\nat the end of its few days of living consciousness, in an universal\nwhole in an eternal state of progress--is as fatal to human happiness as\nanything can be short of the abyss of reprobation. More consoling, as it\nis more in accordance with right reason, is the testimony which comes\nto us trumpet-tongued, in one vast unison, from all the ages, that the\nhistory of the race is one of decadence, not of progress. The sentence\npassed was death. The road to death is decadence. The way is rounded;\nthere is a movement onward and a growth of life until the descent begins\nwhich lands us in dissolution. But every moment from the first cry of\ninfancy is a step nearer to death; we are every one of us dying every\nday; and a movement towards death is not progress. Individual experience\njoins its voice to that of universal history in testimony of this. The\nrevelation of Christ has put us in possession of the highest and certain\ntruth; it has given us a more exalted moral, and has recast our nature in\na higher, nay, in a divine, mould. We are still dying every day; but the\ncertain hope of a joyful resurrection has deprived death of its agonizing\nsting, and made it, like sleep, a source of happiness instead of despair.\nBut this is nothing like the progress of which the sceptics prate. It is\na supernatural stage in the dispensation of God for the renewal of his\nfallen creature, predetermined before all time. His own part in it--the\nnatural order--is one long history of decadence. There has been the ebb\nand flow, the rising to fall, of all movement. But decadence has all\nalong triumphed over progress. Amidst what a decadence are we now living\nfrom the promising progress of the middle ages! And we are bid to expect\nso terrific a retrogression before the consummation of all things, that\n\u201ceven the elect shall scarcely be saved.\u201d\n\nIt is the witness of all the ages--human progress ebbing and\nflowing--but, on the whole, the flow does not overtake the ebb. The ocean\nof life has been ever ebbing into its eternal abysses, and will ebb,\nleaving behind it a dry and barren waste, until the morning of eternity\nshall break over the withdrawing night of time, chaos shall be for ever\nsealed in the confusion and sadness of its darkness, and the final word\nshall go forth, of which the sublime physical law was only a type and a\nshadow: \u201cLet there be light!\u201d\n\n\nMADAME\u2019S EXPERIMENT.\n\nA SAINT AGNES\u2019 EVE STORY.\n\n\u201cMY THOUGHTS ARE NOT YOUR THOUGHTS, NOR YOUR WAYS MY WAYS, SAITH THE\nLORD.\u201d\n\nMadame the Countess of Hohenstein stood at the window of the great hall\nof her palace, waiting for the coach which was to take her to a _ch\u00e2teau_\nsome leagues distant, where she was to grace a grand entertainment, and\nto be kept for a whole night by her hosts as an especial treasure. For\nMadame the Countess of Hohenstein, spite of her sixty years and her three\ngrown sons, was a famous beauty still and a brilliant conversationist,\nand few were her rivals, young or old, throughout the kingdom. But\nher face was clouded as she waited in her stately hall that January\nafternoon, and she listened with a pained expression to the sound of\na footstep overhead pacing steadily up and down. She touched a bell\npresently.\n\n\u201cTell your master,\u201d she said to the servant who answered it, \u201cthat I wish\nto see him again before I leave.\u201d And soon down the winding stairway she\nwatched a young man come with the same steady pace which might have been\nheard overhead for a half-hour past.\n\nNo need to ask the relationship between the two. Black, waving hair,\nbroad brow, set lips, firm chin, the perfect contour of the handsome\nface--all these were the son\u2019s heritage of remarkable beauty from his\nqueenly mother; but the headstrong pride and excessive love which shone\nfrom her eyes as he came in sight met eyes very different from them.\nLarge and black indeed they were, but their intense look, however deep\nthe passion it bespoke, told of an unearthly passion and a fire that is\ndivine.\n\n\u201cAh! Heinrich love,\u201d his mother said, \u201conce more, come with me.\u201d\n\n\u201cNay, little mother,\u201d he answered--the caressing diminutive sounding\nstrangely as addressed to her in her pomp of attire and stately\npresence--\u201cyou said I need not go; that you did not care for me at the\nbaron\u2019s.\u201d\n\n\u201cNot so, Heinrich. I care for you everywhere, everywhere. I am lost\nwithout you, love of my soul. But I know you hate it, and, if you must\nstay from any place, better that than some others. There are no maidens\nthere I care for, my son.\u201d\n\nShe watched the calm forehead contract as she spoke. \u201cThere! as ever,\u201d\nshe exclaimed. \u201cWilt never hear woman mentioned without a frown? You\nare no monk yet, child, at your twentieth year; nor ever shall be, if I\ncan help it. It is enough for me, surely, to have given two sons to the\npriesthood, without yielding up my last one, my hope and my pride.\u201d\n\nHeinrich made no answer, for the sound of the carriage-wheels was heard,\nand he offered his mother his hand, led her down the steps, and placed\nher in the coach. She drew him towards her, and kissed him passionately.\n\u201cFarewell, my dearest,\u201d she said. \u201cI count the minutes till we meet\nagain.\u201d And she never ceased to watch him as long as the mansion was\nvisible.\n\nHe was a sight of which many a mother might have been proud, as he stood\nthere bare headed, the winter sun lighting his face, the winter wind\nlifting his dark locks, the fresh bloom of youth enhancing his peculiar\nbeauty. His mother sighed deeply as the coach turned a corner which hid\nhim from her view--a sigh often repeated during the course of her journey.\n\nIt was a full hour before she was out of her own domains, though the\nhorses sped swiftly over the frozen ground. All those broad acres, all\nthat noble woodland, all those peasant homes, were hers; and for miles\nbehind her the land stretching north and west belonged with it, for she\nhad married the owner of the next estate, and, widowed, held it for her\nson. But at her death all these possessions must be divided among distant\nunknown kinsmen, if Heinrich persisted in the desire, which had been his\nfrom early boyhood, to become a monk. His mother\u2019s whole heart was set\nagainst it. Her aim in life was to find for him a wife whom he would\nlove, and whom he would bring to their home; she longed to hold before\nher death her son\u2019s son on her knee.\n\nThe coach stopped as the sun was setting; and at the palace door, too\neager for a sight of her to wait in courtly etiquette within, host and\nhostess stood ready to greet this friend of a lifetime.\n\n\u201cNo Heinrich?\u201d they cried, laughing. \u201cA truant always. And we have that\nwith us to-day which will make you wish him here. No matter what! You\nwill see in time.\u201d\n\nAnd in time she saw indeed. Going slowly up the marble stairs a half-hour\nlater, a vision of magnificent beauty, with her ermine mantle wrapped\nabout her, the hood fallen back from her regal head, the eyes with the\npained look of disappointment and longing still lingering in them in\nspite of the loving welcomes lavished upon her, she came, in a turn\nof the stairs, upon another vision of beauty radiant as her own, and\nextremely opposite.\n\nComing slowly down towards her was a young girl, tall and slight, with a\nskin of dazzling fairness, where the blue veins in temple and neck were\nplain to see; a delicate tint like blush-roses upon the cheek; great\nwaves of fair hair sending back a glint of gold to the torches just\nlighted in the hall; eyes very large, and so deeply set that at first\ntheir violet blue seemed black--eyes meek and downcast, and tender as a\ndove\u2019s, but in them, too, a look of pain and yearning. The face at first\nview was like that of an innocent child, but beneath its youthfulness lay\nan expression which bespoke a wealth of love and strength and patience,\nunawakened as yet, but of unusual force. Skilled to read character by\nyears of experience in kings\u2019 palaces, madame the countess read her\nwell--so far as she could read at all.\n\nEvidently the maiden saw nothing that was before her; but madame held her\nbreath in surprise and delight, and stood still, waiting her approach.\nNot till she came close to her did the girl look up, then she too stopped\nwith a startled \u201cPardon madame\u201d; and at sight of the timid, lovely eyes,\nat the sound of the voice--like a flute, like water rippling softly, like\na south wind sighing in the seaside pines--madame opened her arms, and\ncaught the stranger to her heart. \u201cMy child, my child,\u201d she cried, \u201chow\nbeautiful you are!\u201d\n\n\u201cMadame, madame,\u201d the girl panted in amazement, carried away in her turn\nat the sudden sight of this lovely lady, who, she thought, could be,\nin her regal beauty and attire, no less than a princess--\u201cMadame sees\nherself surely!\u201d\n\nThe countess laughed outright at the artless, undesigned compliment. \u201cAnd\nas charming as beautiful,\u201d she said. \u201cI must see more of you, my love.\u201d\n\nThen, kissing the cheek, red now as damask roses, she passed on. In\nthe hall above her hostess stood with an arch smile on her lips. \u201cAh!\nGertrude, we planned it well,\u201d she said. \u201cFritz and I have been watching\nfor that meeting. It was a brilliant tableau.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut who is she, Wilhelmina? Tell me quickly. She is loveliness itself.\u201d\n\n\u201c\u2019Tis but a short story, dear. We found her in Halle. Her name is\nElizabeth Wessenberg. She is well-born, but her family are strict\nLutherans. She--timid, precious little dove!--became a Catholic by some\ngood grace of the good God. But it was a lonely life, and I begged her\noff from it for a while. Oh! but her parents winced to see her go. They\nhate the name even of Catholic. That is all--only she sings like a lark,\nand she hardly knows what to make of her new life and faith, it is so\nstrange to her.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is all! Thanks, Wilhelmina. I will be with you soon. I long to see\nher once again.\u201d\n\nAll that evening the countess kept Elizabeth near her, and every hour\nher admiration increased. A maiden so beautiful, yet so ignorant of her\nown charms, so unworldly, so innocent, she had never seen. Alone in her\nroom that night she fell trembling upon her knees--poor, passionate,\nself-willed mother!--before the statue of the Holy Mother bearing the\ndivine Son in her arms, and she held up her hands and prayed aloud.\n\n\u201cI have found her at last,\u201d she cried--\u201ca child who has won her way into\nmy heart at once with no effort of her own; a pearl among all pearls;\none whom my boy _must_ love. Lord Jesus, have I not given thee two sons?\nGive me now one son to keep for my own, and not for thee. Grant that he\nmay love this precious creature, fit for him as though thou thyself hadst\nmade her for him, even as Eve was made for Adam.\u201d And then she covered\nher face, and sobbed and pleaded with long, wordless prayers.\n\nThe next day saw her on her homeward way, but not alone. She had coaxed\nin her irresistible fashion till she had obtained for herself from her\nfriend a part of Elizabeth\u2019s visit; and Elizabeth felt as if she were\nliving in a dream, there in the costly coach, wrapped in furs and watched\nby those beautiful eyes. Constantly the countess talked with her, leading\nthe conversation delicately in such a manner that she found out much in\nregard to Elizabeth\u2019s home, and penetrated into her hidden sorrows in\nregard to the coldness and lack of sympathy there. And it needed no words\nto tell that this was a heart which craved sympathy and love most keenly;\nwhich longed for something higher and stronger than itself to lean upon.\nEvery time she looked at the sensitive face, endowed with such exquisite\nrefinement of beauty; every time the childlike yet longing, unsatisfied\neyes met hers; every time the musical voice fell upon her ears, fearing\never an echo of that same craving for something more and better than the\ngirl had yet known, madame\u2019s mother-heart throbbed towards her, and it\nseemed to her that she could hardly wait for the blessing which, she had\npersuaded herself, was surely coming to her at last.\n\nNow and then she spoke of the country through which they passed: and to\nElizabeth it was almost incredible that such wealth could belong to one\nperson only. Now and then she spoke of \u201cmy son\u201d in a tone of exultant\nlove, and then Elizabeth trembled a little; for she dreaded to meet this\nstranger. Very grand and proud she fancied him; one who would hardly\nnotice at all a person so insignificant as herself.\n\n\u201cHere is the village chapel, Elizabeth,\u201d madame said, as the coach\nstopped suddenly. \u201cWill you scold, my little one, if I go in for a minute\nto the priest\u2019s house? Or perhaps you would like to visit the Blessed\nSacrament while I am gone?\u201d\n\nYes, that was what Elizabeth would like indeed; and there she knelt and\nprayed, never dreaming how much was being said about her only next door.\n\n\u201cFather!\u201d madame exclaimed impetuously to the gray-haired priest who rose\nto greet her, \u201cI must have Mass said for my intention every morning for\na week. See, here is a part only of my offering.\u201d And she laid a heavy\npurse upon the table. \u201cIf God grant my prayer, it shall be doubled,\ntripled.\u201d\n\n\u201cGod\u2019s answers cannot be bought, madame,\u201d the priest said sadly, \u201cnor can\nthey be forced.\u201d\n\n\u201cThey must be this time, then, father. You must make my intention your\nown. Will you not? Will you not for this once, father?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat is it, then, my daughter?\u201d\n\n\u201cFather, do not be angry. It is the old hunger wrought up to desperation.\nI cannot give my boy to be a monk!\u201d\n\nThe priest\u2019s face darkened.\n\n\u201cNo! no!\u201d madame hurried on. \u201cIt is too much to ask of me. And now I have\nfound a bride for him at last. She waits for me in the chapel, fair and\npure as the lilies. I am taking her home in triumph.\u201d\n\n\u201cDoes Heinrich know of this?\u201d\n\n\u201cNot one word. He cannot fail to love her when he sees her. It is for\nthis I ask your prayers.\u201d\n\nThe priest pushed away the purse. \u201cI will have none of this,\u201d he said.\n\u201cIt is far better to see my poor suffer than that this unrighteous deed\nshould be done. You call yourself a Catholic, and pride yourself because\nyour house was always Catholic; and yet you dare say that anything is too\nmuch for God to ask of you! I am an old man, madame, and have had many\nsouls to deal with, but I never yet saw one whose vocation was more plain\nthan Heinrich\u2019s to the entire service of God\u2019s church. Will you dare run\ncounter to God\u2019s will?\u201d\n\n\u201cNay, father, it cannot be his will. Our very name would die out--our\nheritage pass from us!\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd suppose it does! Who shall promise you that if Heinrich marries\nthere shall ever be child of his to fill his place? And what _are_ place,\nand name, and heritage, madame? That which death, or war, or a king\u2019s\ncaprice may snatch away in a moment. But your spiritual heritage shall\nnever die. What mother on earth but might envy you if you give your three\nsons--your all--to God! Many are the children of the desolate, more than\nof her that hath an husband, saith the Lord. _He_ maketh a barren woman\nto dwell in a house the joyful mother of children. There is a place and a\nname within his walls better than sons and daughters. Do you dream what\nrisk you run, what part you play, when you would tempt from his calling\none who, if you leave God to work his own pleasure, shall hereafter shine\nas the stars through all eternity?\u201d\n\nShe did not answer back with pride. Instead, her whole face grew soft,\nand the large tears filled her eyes and ran slowly down her cheeks.\n\u201cI want to do right,\u201d she said humbly; \u201cbut I cannot feel that it is\nright. Father, see: I will not ask you to make my intention yours. But I\npromise you one thing: I _must_ ask God to grant me this blessing, but it\nshall be the last time. If I fail now, let his will be done. And do you,\nfather, ask him to make it plain to me what his will is.\u201d\n\n\u201cGod bless you, daughter!\u201d the old priest answered, much moved by her\nhumility. \u201cI will pray that indeed. But still I warn you that I think you\nare doing wrong in so much as trying such an experiment as this which you\nhave undertaken.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, no,\u201d she cried again. \u201cNo, no, father. This once I must try, or my\nheart will break.\u201d\n\nAgain in the carriage, she pressed Elizabeth to her closely, and kissed\nher, and said words of passionate love, finding relief thus for the\npent-up feelings of her heart; but Elizabeth knew not how to reply. It\ntroubled and perplexed her--this lavish affection; for she could not\nrepay it in kind. It only served to waken a suffering which she had known\nfrom childhood, a strange, unsatisfied yearning within her, which came at\nthe sight of a lovely landscape, or the sound of exquisite music, or the\ncaresses of some friend. She wanted _more_; and where and what was that\n\u201cmore,\u201d which seemed to lie beyond everything, and which she could never\ngrasp?\n\nShe felt it often during her visit--that visit where attention was\nconstantly bestowed on her, and she lived in the midst of such luxury as\nshe had never known before. Something in Heinrich\u2019s face seemed to her to\npromise an answer to her questionings--it was so at rest, so settled;\nand this, more than anything else about him, interested and attracted\nher. Madame saw the interest, without guessing the cause. She felt\nalso that Heinrich was not wholly insensible to Elizabeth\u2019s presence;\nand though she asked him no direct questions, she contrived to turn\nconversation into the channels which could not fail to engage him, and\nwhich the young convert also cared for most.\n\nElizabeth decided that Heinrich knew more than any one else, but even\nhe tired her sometimes. \u201cHe knows _too_ much,\u201d she thought, \u201cand he is\nso cold and indifferent. Yet he would not be himself if he were more\nlike madame; and she is too tender. Oh! what does it all mean? There is\nnothing that makes one content except church, and one cannot be always\nthere.\u201d\n\nSo passed the time till S. Agnes\u2019 Eve. That night, when the young people\nentered the dining-hall, madame was absent. She sent a message that they\nmust dine without her, as she had a severe headache, and Elizabeth might\ncome to her an hour after dinner.\n\nThe meal was a silent one. When it was over, and they went into the\nlibrary, Heinrich seated himself at the organ. Grand chorals, funeral\nmarches full of mourning and awe and hope, Mass music welcoming the\ncoming of the Lord of Sabaoth, filled the lofty room. When he ceased,\nElizabeth was sobbing irrepressibly.\n\n\u201cForgive me, forgive me!\u201d she said. \u201cI cannot help it. O monsieur! I\nknow not what it means. Love and hate, beauty and deformity, joy and\nsuffering--I cannot understand. Nothing satisfies, and to be a Catholic\nmakes the craving worse. Is it because I am only just beginning, and\nthat I shall understand better by and by?\u201d\n\nHe stood at a little distance from her, looking not at her at all, but\nupward and far away.\n\n\u201cI will tell mademoiselle a story, if she will permit it,\u201d he said. \u201cMany\nyears ago there was a princess, very beautiful, very wise, and very\nwealthy. Her councillors begged that she would marry, and at last she\ntold them that she would do so, if they would find for her the prince\nshe should describe, he should be so rich that he should esteem all the\ntreasures of the Indies as a little dust; so wise that no man could ever\nmention in his presence aught that he did not already know; so fair that\nno child of man should compare with him in beauty; so spotless in his\nsoul that the very heavens should not be pure in his sight. They knew not\nwhere to find that prince, but their lady knew.\u201d\n\nHe paused, though not as for an answer. He had guessed well his mother\u2019s\nplans and hopes; he fathomed as truly Elizabeth\u2019s nature; and when he\nspoke again, it was as no one except the priest of God had ever heard him\nspeak:\n\n\u201cThere are some souls whom no one and nothing on earth can possibly\nsatisfy. Beauty, and learning, and friendship, and home, and love, each\nalike wearies them. God only can content them, and he is enough--_God\nalone_. To such souls he gives himself, if they sincerely desire it. It\nis a love beyond all imaginable earthly love. It satisfies, yet leaves\na constant craving which we have no wish should cease. He understands\neverything: even those things which we cannot explain to ourselves. It is\nhe finding whom the soul loveth him, and will not let him go.\u201d\n\nAfter saying this, he sat down once more at the organ, and played again\ntill the hour named by madame arrived. Elizabeth found her pale and\nsuffering, but with a glad look in her eyes.\n\n\u201cYou have had talk together, then,\u201d she cried. \u201cI heard the music cease\nfor a while. And is he not charming and good, my Heinrich?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d Elizabeth said dreamily. \u201cHe made me understand a little\nto-night--better than any one has ever done before.\u201d\n\n\u201cIs that so, my little one? And how then?\u201d\n\n\u201cHere,\u201d Elizabeth said innocently, laying her hand on her heart, and with\nno suspicion of the meaning which the countess attached to the act. \u201cIf I\ncould only understand more--more.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou will in time, most dear one--in time, in time.\u201d And oh! the exulting\nring in madame\u2019s voice. \u201cBut see, my precious, what I have to show you.\u201d\n\nA chest was drawn up beside madame\u2019s easy-chair. She opened it, and\nbefore Elizabeth\u2019s dazzled eyes lay jewels of wondrous lustre and\nvalue--long strings of pearls, changing opals with the fire-spark\ntrembling in them, sapphires blue as the sky, emeralds green as the sea,\nand glittering diamonds. Madame drew out the costly things, and adorned\nElizabeth with one set after another by turn, watching the effect. Last\nof all, she touched a spring, and took from a secret drawer a set of\npearls, large and round, with a soft amber tint in them. These she held\ncaressingly and sighed.\n\n\u201cLook, Elizabeth,\u201d she said. \u201cForty years ago this very night I wore\nthem, when I was a girl like you. There was a great ball here. Some\none--ah! but how grand and beautiful he looked; my poor heart remembers\nwell, and is sore with the memory now--some one begged me to try the\ncharm of S. Agnes\u2019 Eve. Dost know it, dear? Nay? Then you shall try it\ntoo. Go supperless to rest; look not to left or right, nor yet behind\nyou, but pray God to show you that which shall satisfy your heart of\nhearts.\u201d\n\n\u201cDid he show you, madame?\u201d\n\nMadame sighed heavily. \u201cAlas! love, alas! What contents us here? I had\nit for a time, and then God took it from me. No prouder wife than I, no\nprouder mother; but husband and sons are gone, all except my Heinrich.\nPray God to keep him for me, Elizabeth, Elizabeth.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd who, then, was S. Agnes, madame? And shall I pray to her that\nprayer?\u201d\n\nMadame looked aghast, then smiled an amused yet troubled smile. \u201cNay,\nchild, I thought not of that. S. Agnes was one who loved our blessed Lord\nalone, not man. She died rather than yield to earthly love and joy.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut why, madame?\u201d\n\n\u201cO child, child! But I forget, You have only just begun the Catholic\nlife, my sweet. God\u2019s love, then, is enough for some people; but they are\nmonks and nuns, not common Christians like you and me and Heinrich. We\ncould not live in that way, could we, Elizabeth--you and Heinrich and I?\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd God would never grow tired of us, madame! Nor ever die! Nor ever\nmisunderstand! O madame! I think we could not live with less.\u201d And\nElizabeth stood up suddenly, as if too agitated to remain quiet.\n\n\u201cAh! love, you are only just a convert. In one\u2019s first excitement one\nfancies many things. You are meant to serve God in the world, my dear,\nfor many years to come--you and my Heinrich. Pray for him to-night.\u201d\n\nBut hurrying along the hall to her own room, Elizabeth whispered\npassionately in her heart: \u201cI do not want to pray for him. Let him pray\nfor himself. His saints pray for him too, and God loves him, and he does\nnot need me. Does madame, then, suppose that he could ever care for me,\nor I for him? I want more than he can give--more--more! _Show_ me my\nheart\u2019s desire, O God, my God!\u201d\n\nIn her excitement and in the darkness she laid her hand on the wrong\ndoor, and, opening it, found herself in an old gallery, at the end of\nwhich a light was glimmering. Scarcely heeding what she did, she moved\ntoward it, and found that she was in the choir of the castle chapel. The\ndoor fell gently to behind her, but did not close, and Elizabeth was\nalone. Alone? The aisles were empty, the organ was still, the priest was\ngone; but before the sacred shrine the steady ray of the lamp told that\nHe who filleth the heaven of heavens was dwelling in his earthly temple,\nand that unseen angels guarded all the place.\n\nBut of angels or men Elizabeth thought not. Silently, slowly she moved\nonward, her hands pressed upon her heart, whose passionate beating grew\nstill as she came nearer to the Sacred Heart which alone could fully\ncomfort, fully strengthen, fully understand. Slowly she moved, as one who\nknows that some great joy is coming surely, and who lengthens willingly\nthe bliss of expectation.\n\nAnd so she reached a narrow flight of steps, and made her way gently\ndown, and knelt. Outside, in the clear night, a great wind rose, and\nrocked the castle-tower, but Elizabeth knew it not. She was conscious\nonly of the intense stillness of that unseen Presence; of peace flooding\nher whole soul like a river; of the nearness of One who is strength and\nlove and truth, infinite and eternal.\n\n\u201cShow me my heart\u2019s desire, O God, my God!\u201d she sighed.\n\nGod, _my_ God! She lifted up her eyes, and there, above the shrine,\nbeheld the great crucifix of Hohenstein, brought from the far-off East by\na Crusader knight. She lifted up her eyes, and saw the haggard face full\nof unceasing prayer, the sunken cheeks, the pierced hands and feet, the\nbones, easy to number, in the worn and tortured body, the side with its\ndeep wound where a spear had passed.\n\nYet, looking upward steadily, all her excitement gone, a sacred calm\nupon her inmost soul, Elizabeth knew that her prayer was answered, her\nlifelong hunger satisfied. God had given her her heart\u2019s desire.\n\nGod, _my_ God! No love but his could satisfy; and his could with an\neternal content. To that Heart, pierced for her, broken for her, she\ncould offer no less than her whole heart; and that she _must_ offer, not\nby constraint, but simply because she loved him beyond all, above all,\nand knew that in him, and in him only, she was sure of an unfailing, an\neverlasting love.\n\nMadame, seeking her in the early morning, found her room unoccupied,\nthen noticed the gallery-door ajar, and, trembling, sought her there.\nElizabeth had kept S. Agnes\u2019 Eve indeed, but it was before the shrine of\nS. Agnes\u2019 Spouse and Lord.\n\n\u201cMy daughter,\u201d the countess said, using the word for the first time, and\nwith oh! how sad a tone--\u201cwhat have you done this night, my daughter?\u201d\n\nElizabeth lifted hand and face toward the shrine. \u201cMadame,\u201d she answered\nslowly, as one who speaks unconsciously in sleep, \u201cI have found Him whom\nmy soul loveth. I hold him, and I will not let him go.\u201d\n\nGod himself had made his way plain indeed before Madame the Countess of\nHohenstein in this her last struggle with his will. The very plan which\nshe had chosen to gain her cherished hopes had crushed them. Not priest\nor son, but the girl whom she herself had named for her final trial, had\nshown her that God\u2019s purposes were far aside from hers.\n\n\u201cTake all, O Lord!\u201d she cried, while her tears fell like rain. \u201cTake all\nI have. I dare not struggle longer.\u201d\n\nOne son gave up his life a martyr in the blood-stained church in Japan.\nAnother endured a lifelong martyrdom among the lepers of the Levant,\nwinning souls yet more tainted than the bodies home again to God. And\none, the youngest, and the fairest, and the dearest, was seen in China\nand in India, in Peru and in Mexico, going without question wherever he\nwas sent, for the greater glory of God; but he was never seen in his\nGerman home again. After they once left her, their mother never beheld\ntheir faces. And she who had been taken to her heart as a daughter\nentered an order in a distant land.\n\nYet none ever heard madame the last Countess of Hohenstein murmur against\nher lot. Clearly, tenderly, patiently, more and more did God vouchsafe\nto make his way plain to her. In chapel, day by day, she watched the\ndecaying banners which told of the fields her fathers won; saw the\nmonuments to men of her race who had fought and died for their king and\ntheir land; read the names once proudly vaunted, now almost forgotten.\nWhat was fame like this to the honor God had showered on her? Souls east\nand west brought safe to him; life laid down for the Lord of lords; a\nseed not to be reckoned; a lineage which could never fail; sons and\ndaughters to stand at last in that multitude which no one can number, who\nhave come out of great tribulation, with fadeless palms of victory in\ntheir hands--such was her place and name in the house of God.\n\nThe quaint German text upon her tombstone puzzled travellers greatly, and\nthose who could decipher it wondered but the more. It ran thus:\n\n                          _Requiescat in Pace._\n\n                                GERTRUDE,\n             _Twenty-ninth and Last Countess of Hohenstein_.\n\nThe children of thy barrenness shall still say in thy ears: The place is\ntoo strait for me; make me room to dwell in. And thou shalt say in thy\nheart: Who hath begotten me these? I was barren, and brought not forth,\nled away, and captive; and who hath brought up these? I was destitute and\nalone; and these, where were they?\n\nThus saith the Lord God: Behold, I will lift up my hand to the Gentiles,\nand will set up my standard to the people. And they shall bring thy sons\nin their arms, and carry thy daughters upon their shoulders. And thou\nshalt know that I am the Lord; for they shall not be confounded that wait\nfor him.\n\n\nTHE BASQUES.\n\nWe are all Basques. Nay, reader, be not startled at having your supposed\nnationality thus suddenly set aside. An author of far more learning than\nwe can lay claim to--Se\u00f1or Erro, a Spanish Basque--gravely asserts that\nall the inhabitants of Europe and Asia, if not of America also, sprang\nfrom the Basques. In short, they--that is, _we_--are the primitive race.\nAnd this fearless writer, with a due sense of national superiority, goes\nboldly on to prove that Adam and Eve spoke the Basque language in the\nterrestrial Paradise, of which he gives a detailed description according\nto the Biscayan interpretation of the Biblical account.\n\nWe remember how, in search of Adam--great progenitor!--whose\nsaid-to-be-fine statue is among the army of saints on the glorious roof\nof Milan cathedral, we got bewildered on that celestial height, so that\nwe do not to this day feel sure of having discovered the true Adam, and\nmight never have found our way down to earth again had it not been for\nthe kind offices of one of Victor Emanuel\u2019s soldiers. So it is with many\na _savant_ in tracing the origin of the human species. Lost in threading\nthe way back to our first parents, they need some rough, uncultured soul\nto lead them out of the bewildering maze--back to the point whence they\nstarted.\n\nBut let us hope in this instance filial instinct has not mistaken the\ngenuine Adam--the first speaker, it is possible, of Basque. Se\u00f1or Erro\nfinds in this language the origin of all civilization and science. It\nmust be confessed we have wofully forgotten our mother-tongue; for it is\nsaid to be impossible to learn to speak it unless one goes very young\namong the Basques. It is a common saying of theirs that the devil once\ncame into their country to learn the language, but gave it up in despair\nafter three hundred years\u2019 application! It may be inferred he had lost\nthe knowledge he had made such successful use of a few thousand years\nbefore in the Garden of Eden.\n\nM. Astarloa, likewise a Biscayan, maintains that the extraordinary\nperfection of this language is a proof it is the only one that could have\nbeen conferred on the first man by his Creator, but in another place says\nit was formed by God himself at the confusion of tongues in the tower of\nBabel--which assertions rather lack harmony.\n\nMax M\u00fcller, the eminent philologist, pretends a serious discussion\ntook place about two hundred years ago in the metropolitan chapter of\nPampeluna as to the following knotty points:\n\n_First._ Was Basque the primitive language of mankind? The learned\nmembers confessed that, however strong might be their private\nconvictions, they did not dare give an affirmative reply.\n\n_Secondly._ Was Basque the only language spoken by Adam and Eve in the\ngarden of Eden?\n\nAs to this, the whole chapter declared there could be no doubt whatever\nthat it was \u201cimpossible to bring a reasonable objection against such an\nopinion.\u201d\n\nThis is extremely amusing; but, of course, too absurd to be true.\nBesides, the archives of Pampeluna do not afford the slightest hint of so\nsingular a record.\n\nSouthwestern France, however, has many traditions of the Oriental origin\nof its inhabitants. Tarbes and Lourdes are said to have been founded by\nAbyssinian princesses. Belleforest, in his _Cosmography_, says Japhet\nhimself came into Gaul and built the city of P\u00e9rigueux, which for several\nages bore his name. P\u00e8re Bajole, of Condom, a Jesuit of the XVIIth\ncentury, is less precise in his suppositions, but thinks the country was\npeopled soon after the Deluge, and therefore by those who had correct\nnotions of the true God. Moreover as Noah, of course, would not have\nallowed his descendants to depart without suitable advice as to the way\nof salvation, especially to the head of the colony, he concludes that\nmany of the ancient Aquitanians were saved. The Sire Dupleix cites the\nepistle of S. Martial to show they had retained some proper notions of\ntheology, which accounts for the rapid success of the first Christian\napostles of the country.\n\nBut to return to the Basques in particular: In the _Leyenda\nPendadola_--an old book of the XIth century--we read that \u201cthe first\nsettlement in Spain was made by the patriarch Tubal, whose people\nspoke the language still used in the provinces of Biscay\u201d--that is,\nthe Basque. William von Humboldt likewise attributed to the Basques an\nAsiatic origin, and was decidedly of the school of MM. Erro and Astarloa,\nthough he rejected their exaggerations. The Basque language, so rich,\nharmonious, and expressive, is now generally believed to be one of the\nTuranian tongues. Prince Lucian Bonaparte shows the analogy between it\nand the Hungarian, Georgian, etc.\n\nThe word Basque is derived from the Latin _Vasco_; for in Southwestern\nFrance it is quite common to pronounce the letter _v_ like _b_--a habit\nwhich made Scaliger wittily say: _Felices populi, quibus Vivere est\nBibere_.\n\nThe Basque country consists of several provinces on both sides of the\nPyrenees bordering on the Bay of Biscay. Labourd, Soule, and Lower\nNavarre are now in the department of the Basses-Pyrenees, on the French\nside. The two provinces of Biscay and Guipuzcoa--a part of Alava and of\nUpper Navarre--belong to Spain. The whole Basque population cannot be\nmore than 500,000. The people, as we have had a proof of, are proud of\ntheir ancient nationality; and though there is a difference of manners,\nphysiognomy, and even of idiom in these sections, they all recognize each\nother as brethren. They are a noble race, and have accomplished great\ndeeds in their day. Entrenched behind their mountains, they long kept\nthe Romans at bay, drove back the Moors, and crushed the rear-guard of\nCharlemagne.\n\nThe Basques have always been famous navigators. The first suggestion\nthat led to the discovery of America is said to have been given\nChristopher Columbus by Sanchez de Huelva, a Basque pilot. The Basques\nof Labourd certainly discovered Cape Breton. They were the first to go\non whale-fisheries, which, in 1412, extended as far as Iceland. And\nNewfoundland seems to have been known to them in the middle of the\nXVth century. The first name of Cape Breton--isle des Bacaloas or\nBacaloac--is a Basque name.\n\nIn the middle ages the Basques maintained a certain independence by means\nof their _fueros_, or special privileges, which had been handed down from\ntime immemorial and confirmed by several of the kings of France. The wood\nof Ha\u00eftze is still pointed out as the place where the assemblies of the\nelders, or _bil\u00e7ars_, were formerly held in the district of Labourd. Here\ncame together the proprietors of the different communes to regulate their\nadministrative affairs. The most of the assembly leaned on their staves\nor against the venerable oaks of the forest. But the presiding member sat\non a huge stone, the secretary on another, while a third was used for\nrecording the decrees of the assembly, to which the kings of France and\nNavarre were often forced to yield by virtue of their _fueros_.\n\nAnd this country was never over-ruled by oppressive lords who held\nit in subjection by means of their fortified castles. The device of\nBayonne--_Nunquam polluta_--seems to express the unstained independence\nthat had never been subjected to feudal dominion. It doubtless had great\nfamilies who distinguished themselves by their bravery and military\nservices, and were noted for their wealth, like the _casas de parientes\nmajores_--the twenty-four families of great antiquity--in Guypuzcoa,\namong which was the family of Loyola of Aspe\u00eftia, to which the immortal\nfounder of the Jesuits belonged, as well as that of Balda, his mother\u2019s\nfamily; but they never pretended to the feudal authority of the great\nnobles of France and Spain. It was only in the XVth century that several\nBasque families, who had become wealthy, ventured to erect some\ninoffensive towers like those of Uturbi near St. Jean de Luz, occupied by\nLouis XI. while on the frontier arranging the treaty between the kings of\nCastile and Arragon.\n\nIt is said of the Basques of Spain: As many Basques, as many nobles. Many\nof their villages have coats of arms on all the houses, which contrast\nwith the decayed lattices and crumbling roofs. The owners point to their\nemblazonry with the air of a Montmorency. When the Moors invaded the\nNorth of Spain, thousands of mountaineers rose to drive them out. As\nthey made war at their own expense, those who returned alive to their\ncottages received the reward of gentlemen--the right of assuming some\nheraldic sign and graving it on their walls as a perpetual memorial of\ntheir deeds. In the valley of Roncal the inhabitants were all ennobled\nfor having distinguished themselves at the battle of Olaso, in the reign\nof Fortunio Garcia. In the village of Santa Lucia, not far from Toledo,\nan old house of the XIIIth century is still to be seen with double lancet\nwindows, which has its record over the door proving the part a former\nowner had taken at the bridge of Olaso--an azure field traversed by a\nriver, which is spanned by a bridge with three golden arches surmounted\nby the bleeding head of a Moor.\n\nIn a faubourg of Tolosa is a modest house stating that Juan Perez having\nborne arms for more than fifty years in Italy, Spain, Portugal, Flanders,\netc., and taken part in the great naval victory over the Turks at Lepanto\nunder Don Juan of Austria, the emperor created him knight and gave him\nfor his arms the imperial eagle.\n\nBut most of these armorial bearings have reference to the chase, to\nwhich the people were so addicted. The trophies they brought home,\ninstead of being nailed up over the door, were now graven there in\nstone--sometimes a wolf, or a hare, or even a favorite hound. Two dogs\nare on the arms inherited by the Prince of Viana, the donor of the fine\nbells to the basilica of Notre Dame de Lourdes.\n\nIn the commune of Bardos is a ch\u00e2teau which bears the name of Salla from\nthe founder of the family. It was he who, fighting under Alphonse the\nChaste, King of Navarre, had his legs broken by the explosion of a rock,\nfrom which time the house of Salla has had for its arms three _chevrons\nbris\u00e9s, d\u2019or, sur un champ d\u2019azur_. The most illustrious member of this\nfamily is Jean Baptiste de la Salle, who founded the admirable order\nof the Brothers of the Christian Schools, with a special mission for\ninstructing the poor.\n\nMgr. de Belsunce, the celebrated bishop of Marseilles, was also of Basque\norigin. The Ch\u00e2teau de Belsunce is still to be seen--an old manor-house\nwith Gothic turrets bespeaking the antiquity of the family. The name is\nassociated with the legends of the country. Tradition relates that a\nwinged monster having terrified the whole region, a knight of this house\narmed himself with a lance and went forth to attack the monster in his\nden. The dragon, having received a mortal wound, sprang with a dying\neffort upon his enemy, seized him, and rolled with him into the Nive.\nFrom that time the family of Belsunce bore on its shield a dragon sable\non a field gules.\n\nThe arms of Fontarabia is a siren on the waves bearing a mirror and a\ncomb--symbol of this enchanting region. This historic place, once the\nrival of St. Jean de Luz, now wears a touching aspect of desolation and\nmourning which only adds to its attractions. Its ruins have a hue of\nantiquity that must delight a painter\u2019s eye. The long street that leads\nto the principal square carries one back three hundred years, most of the\nhouses being in the Spanish style of the XVIth century. There are coats\nof arms over every door, and balconies projecting from every story, with\ncomplicated trellises or lattices that must almost madden the moon-struck\nserenader. Nothing could be more picturesque than this truly Spanish\nplace. Many of the houses bear the imposing name of _palacios_, which\ntestify to the ancient splendor of this _ciudad muy noble, muy leal, y\nmuy valerosa_. Overlooking the whole place is the ch\u00e2teau of Jeanne la\nFolle, massive, heavy, its walls three yards thick, its towers round--a\ngenuine fortress founded in the Xth century, but mostly rebuilt by\nCharles V. Its chronicles are full of historic interest. Here took place\nthe interview between Louis XI. and Henri IV. of Castille, whose arrogant\nfavorite, Beltram de la Cueva, in his mantle broidered with gold and\npearls and diamonds, and his boat with its awning of cloth of gold, must\nhave offered a striking contrast to the extreme simplicity of the King of\nFrance.\n\nThe fine, imposing church of Fontarabia, in the transition style, is a\nmarked exception to the Basque churches generally, which are of simple\nprimitive architecture, with but few ornaments; and these, at least on\nthe French side of the frontier, mostly confined to the sanctuary, which\nis rich in color and gilding. Perhaps over the main altar is a painting,\nbut by no means by Murillo or Velasquez. If on the Spanish side, it may\nbe a S. Iago on a white steed, sword in hand, with a red mantle over his\npilgrim\u2019s dress, looking like a genuine _matamore_, breathing destruction\nagainst the Moors. The Madonna, too, is always there, perhaps with a\nwheel of silver swords, as if in her bosom were centred all the sorrows\nof the human race.\n\nThe galleries around the nave in the Basque churches gives them the\nappearance of a _salle de spectacle_; but the clergy think the separation\nof the sexes promotes the respect due in the sanctuary, and the people\nthemselves cling to the practice. The men occupy the galleries. They\nall have rosaries in their hands. From time to time you can see them\nkiss their thumbs, placed in the form of a cross, perhaps to set a seal\non their vows to God, as people in the middle ages used to seal their\nletters with their thumbs to give them a sacred inviolability. Licking\nthe thumb was, we know, an ancient form of giving a solemn pledge; and,\ntill a recent period, the legal form of completing a bargain in Scotland\nwas to join the thumbs and lick them. \u201cWhat say ye, man? There\u2019s my\nthumb; I\u2019ll ne\u2019er beguile ye,\u201d said Rob Roy to Bailie Nicol Jarvie.\n\nWhen Mass is over, every man in the galleries respectfully salutes his\nnext neighbor. This is considered obligatory. Were it even his deadliest\nenemy, he must bow his head before him. Mass heard with devotion brings\nthe Truce of God to the heart.\n\nThe women occupy the nave, sitting or kneeling on the black,\nfunereal-looking carpet that covers the stone above the tomb of their\nbeloved dead. For every family has a slab of wood or marble with an\ninscription in large characters, which covers the family vault below, and\ntheir notions of pious respect oblige the living to kneel on the stone\nthat covers the bones of their forefathers. Or this _was_ the case; for\nof late years burial in churches has been forbidden, and these slabs\nnow only serve to designate the inalienable right of the families to\noccupy them during the divine service. It is curious and interesting to\nexamine these sepulchral slabs; for they are like the archives of a town\ninscribed with the names of the principal inhabitants, with their rank\nand occupation. In some places the women, by turns, bring every morning\nan offering for their pastor, which they deposit on these stones like an\nexpiatory libation. Several of them are daily garnished with fruit, wine,\neggs, beeswax, yarn, and linen thread, and the _cur\u00e9_, accompanied by his\nservant or the sacristan, goes around after Mass to collect this tribute\nof rural piety in a basket, and give his blessing to the families. These\nofferings of the first-fruits of the earth are still continued, though\nthe dead are buried elsewhere.\n\nThe seat of that mighty potentate, the village mayor, is in the choir, as\nbefits his dignity, which he fully sustains by his majestic deportment in\nsight of the whole congregation. Sometimes he chants at the lectern, like\nCharlemagne. The square peristyle of the church is often divided between\nhim and the village school-master for their respective functions, as if\nto invest them with a kind of sanctity.\n\nIn Soule the belfry is formed by extending upwards the western wall of\nthe church in the form of three gables, looking like three obelisks.\nThe bell is hung in the central one. The origin of this custom is thus\nexplained by M. C\u00e9nac Montaut:\n\n\u201cIn former times, when the Basques had some difficulty about accepting\nall the truths of the Gospel, the clergy were unable to make them\ncomprehend the doctrine of the Holy Trinity. One of the priests, like S.\nPatrick with the shamrock, saw he must appeal to the senses in order to\nreach the mind and heart. Entering his rude pulpit one day, he addressed\nhis flock something after the following manner: \u2018Some of you, my dear\nbrethren, recently objected that the God of the Old Testament, in the\ntables of the law, wished to be worshipped as one God, and that to add\nnow the Son and Holy Spirit to the Deity is to overthrow the law of Sinai\nand affect the divine Essence itself.\u2026 My dear brethren, hitherto we have\nhad but one gable on our belfry, directing towards heaven the innermost\nprayer of the heart, and bearing the bell by which God seems to speak to\nus in return. If, now, two other gables were added to this, would not\nthis triple tower, standing on one base, and pointing to the same heaven,\nstill constitute one belfry?\u2019\u201d\n\nThis appeal was effective. Those who had been unable to accept the\nabstract doctrine of the Trinity perfectly comprehended this material\nunity. The other priests of Soule hastened to make use of so happy an\noratorical figure, and all through the valley of the Gave rose the\nthree-gabled, dogmatic belfries, such as we see at the present day.\n\nNear the church is often a modest white house with a small garden\ncontaining a few trees and flowers, where the Daughters of the Cross\ndevote themselves to the instruction of children, planting the seeds of\npiety in their youthful hearts.\n\nThe Basque houses, with their triangular, tile-covered roofs, often\nproject like a _ch\u00e2let_, and are painted white, green, and even pink.\nThe casements are made in the form of a cross, and stained red. The\ndoorway is arched like a church-portal, and has over it a Virgin, or\ncrucifix, or some pious inscription. There is no bolt on the door; for a\nBasque roof is too inviolable to need a fastening. At the entrance is a\n_b\u00e9nitier_ (for holy water), as if the house were to the owner a kind of\nsanctuary to be entered with purification and a holy thought. You enter\na large hall that divides the house into two parts, and contains all the\nfarming utensils. It is here the husbandman husks his corn and thrashes\nhis wheat. The uncolored walls of the rooms are hung with a few rude\npictures, as of the Last Judgment, the Wandering Jew, or Napoleon. There\nare some large presses, a few wooden chairs, a shelf in the corner with\na lace-edged covering for the statue of the Virgin, who wears a crown of\n_immortelles_ on her head and a rosary around her neck. At one end of the\nroom is a bed large enough for a whole family, and so high as almost to\nneed a ladder to ascend it. The open pink curtains show the holy-water\nfont, the crucifix, and faded palm branch annually renewed. There is\nno house without some religious symbol. The Basque has great faith in\nprayer. He stops his plough or wild native dance to say the Angelus. He\nnever forgets to arm himself with the sign of the cross in a moment of\ndanger. He makes it over the loaf of bread before he divides it among the\nfamily. The mother makes it on the foreheads of her children at night. At\nCandlemas a blessed candle burns under every roof in honor of the true\nLight which lighteth every man that cometh into the world. It is the\nboast of the country that Protestantism never found entrance therein,\neven during its prevalence in B\u00e9arn at the time of Joan of Navarre,\nthough that princess took pains to have the Huguenot version of the New\nTestament translated into Basque and published at La Rochelle in 1591\nfor their benefit. The whole Bible is now translated, M. Duvoisin having\ndevoted six years to the work, and Prince Lucian Bonaparte a still longer\ntime in settling the orthography and superintending the edition.\n\nIt must not be supposed, however, that the Basques are an austere race.\nThey are very fond of their national dances, and excel in the _jeu de\npaume_. Among their other amusements is the _pastorale_, acted in the\nopen air with a _chirula_ (a kind of flute) and a tambourine for the\norchestra. The subject is borrowed from the Bible, the legend of Roland,\nthe wars with the Moors, etc. They are composed by native poets, and have\na certain antique simplicity not without its charm. The people flock to\nthese representations, as to their Cantabrian dances, in their gayest\nattire. The old man wears a _b\u00e9ret_ drawn over his forehead, while his\nlong hair floats behind in token of the nobility of his ancient race.\nHe wears short breeches, long woollen stockings, and leather shoes with\nhandsome silver buckles.\n\nThe young Basque, straight, well formed, and proud in his bearing, wears\nhis blue _b\u00e9ret_ jauntily perched on one side of his head. His jacket is\nshort. Silver clasps fasten his collar and wristbands. He wears sandals\non his feet, with red bars across the instep. A bright red sash girdles\nhis waist--as of all mountaineers, enabling them to endure fatigue the\nbetter, like the surcingle of a horse. \u201cBeware of that young man with the\nloose girdle,\u201d said Sulla, speaking of C\u00e6sar. For among the Romans the\nword _discinctus_ was applied to the indolent, cowardly soldier, as _alte\ncinctus_ (high-girdled) meant a prompt, courageous man.\n\nThe girls, slender in form, with regular, expressive features, are veiled\nin a black mantilla, or else carry it on their arms. A gay kerchief is\nwound around the back of their heads like a turban, leaving visible the\nshining bands of their beautiful black hair.\n\nThe old women wear white muslin kerchiefs on their heads, with one corner\nfalling on the shoulder. On the breast is suspended a golden heart or\n_Saint-Esprit_. Sometimes they are enveloped from head to foot in a\ngreat black cloak, which is absolutely requisite when they attend a\nfuneral. This mantle forms part of the _trousseau_ of every bride of any\nsubstance, and she wears it on her wedding-day, as if to show herself\nprepared to pay due honor to all the friends who should depart this life\nbefore her. It must be a great comfort for them to see this mourning\ngarment prepared in advance, and the sight of the bride veiled in her\nlong black capuchin must diffuse a rather subdued gayety over the wedding\nparty.\n\nThe Basques pay great respect to the dead. When a man dies, his next\nneighbor on the right carries the crucifix before his bier in the funeral\nprocession, and his nearest neighbor on the left walks at its side.\nAnd the whole neighborhood assembles around it in church, with lighted\ncandles in their hands, to hear the Mass for the Dead. They adorn their\ngraveyards with shrubs and flowers. And they never omit the month\u2019s-mind,\nor anniversary service.\n\nOf course no one goes to the Basque country without visiting the famous\nPas de Roland. The whole region is singularly wild and picturesque.\nWe pass through a deep gorge encumbered with rocks, over which the\nNive plunges and foams in the maddest possible way. Twin mountains of\ngranite rise to the very heavens, their sides covered with the golden\nbroom, or furrowed with deep gullies that tell of mountain torrents. The\noverhanging cliffs, and the dizzy, winding road along the edge of the\nabyss, create a feeling of awe; and by the time we arrive, breathless and\nfatigued, at the Pas de Roland, we are quite prepared to believe anything\nmarvellous.\n\n              \u201cI lie reclined\n    Against some trunk the husbandman has felled;\n    Old legendary poems fill my mind,\n              And Parables of Eld:\n    I wander with Orlando through the wood,\n    Or muse with Jaques in his solitude.\u201d\n\nThis archway was produced by a mere blow from the heel of the great\nPaladin, who did not consider the mountain worthy the use of his mighty\nsword. Everything is bathed in the golden light of the wondrous legend,\nwhich harmonizes with the spot. We even fancy we can hear the powerful\nhorn of Orlando--the greatest trumpeter on record. We can see Carloman,\nwith his black plumes and red mantle--opera-like--as he is described in\nthe _Chant d\u2019Altabis\u00e7ar_! The natives, _pur sang_, do not call this pass\nby the name of Roland, but _Utheca gaiz_--a bad, dangerous passage, as\nin truth it is. It is the only means of communication with the opposite\nside of the mountain. After going through it, the mountains recede, the\nhorizon expands, a country full of bucolic delights is revealed to the\neye, the exaltation of the soul subsides, and the mind settles down to\nits normal state of incredulity.\n\nJust below the Pas de Roland, on the French side, are the thermal springs\nof Cambo, in a lovely little valley watered by the Nive. The air here is\npure, the climate mild, the meadows fresh and sprinkled with flowers, the\nencircling hills are crowned with verdure. Never did Nature put on an\naspect of more grace and beauty than in this delicious spot. One of the\nsprings is sulphurous, the other ferruginous. They became popular among\nthe Spanish and Basques during the last century when patronized by Queen\nMarie Anne de Neuberg, the second wife of Don Carlos II. of Spain. Some\nof her royal gifts to the church of Cambo are still shown with pride.\nThese springs were visited as early as 1585, among others, by Fran\u00e7ois\nde Nouailles, Bishop of Dax, who is often referred to in proof of their\nefficacy; but as that eminent diplomatist died a few weeks after he tried\nthe waters, the less said of his cure the better for their reputation.\nNapoleon I., however, had faith in their virtues. He visited Cambo, and\nwas only prevented by his downfall from building a military hospital here.\n\nNot two miles from Cambo is the busy town of Hasparren. The way thither\nis through a delightful country, with some fresh beauty bursting on the\neye at every step. On all sides are to be seen the neat white cottages of\nthe laborers in the midst of orchards, meadows, and vineyards; sometimes\nin the hollows of a valley like a nest among the green leaves; sometimes\non the hills commanding the most delicious of landscapes. Hasparren has\nabout six thousand inhabitants, mostly farmers, but who try to increase\ntheir income by some trade. Twelve hundred of them are shoemakers; seven\nor eight hundred are weavers, curriers, or chocolate-makers. The spacious\nchurch is hardly able to contain the crowd of worshippers on festivals. A\ncurious history is connected with the belfry.\n\nThe government having imposed a tax on salt in 1784, the people around\nHasparren, who had hitherto been exempted, resolved to resist so heavy\nan impost. They rang the bell with violence to call together the\ninhabitants. Even the women assembled in bands with spits, pitchforks,\nand sickles, to the sound of a drum, which one of their number beat\nbefore them. The mob, amounting to two thousand, entrenched themselves\nin the public cemetery, where they received with howls of rage the five\nbrigades the governor of Bayonne was obliged to send for the enforcement\nof the law. Bloodshed was prevented by the venerable _cur\u00e9_, who rose\nfrom his sick-bed and appeared in their midst. By his mild, persuasive\nwords he calmed the excited crowd, induced the troops to retire and the\nmob to disperse. The leaders being afterwards arrested, he also effected\ntheir pardon--on humiliating conditions, however, to the town. The\nhardest was, perhaps, the destruction of the belfry, from which they had\nrung the alarm; and it was not till some time in the present century\nthey were allowed to rebuild it.\n\nIt is remarkable that the ancient Basques left no poems, no war-songs to\ncelebrate their valorous deeds, no epic in which some adventurous mariner\nrecites his wanderings; for the language is flexible and easily bends to\nrhythm. But the people seem better musicians than poets. There are, to be\nsure, some rude plaints of love, a few smugglers\u2019 or fishermen\u2019s songs,\nsung to bold airs full of wild harmony that perhaps used to animate\ntheir forefathers to fight against the Moors; but these songs have no\nliterary merit. Only two poems in the language have acquired a certain\ncelebrity, because published by prominent men who ascribed to them a\ngreat antiquity. One of these is the _Chant des Cantabres_, published by\nWilhelm von Humboldt in 1817 in connection with an essay on the Basque\nlanguage. Ushered into the world by so distinguished a linguist, it was\neagerly welcomed by German _savants_, and regarded as a precious memorial\nof past ages. M. von Humboldt took it from the MSS. of a Spaniard\nemployed in 1590 to explore the archives of Simancas and Biscay. He\npretended to have found it written on an old, worm-eaten parchment, as\nwell it might be if done soon after the invasion of the country by the\nRomans. We wonder he did not also find the history of the conquest of\nCantabria in five books composed by the Emperor Augustus himself, said to\nhave been in existence in the XVIIth century!\n\nThe _Chant d\u2019Altabis\u00e7ar_ is said to have been discovered by M. La Tour\nd\u2019Auvergne in an old convent at St. Sebastian, in 1821, written on\nparchment in characters of the XIIIth or XIVth century. It is unfortunate\nso valuable a MS., like the original poems of Ossian, should have been\nlost! The contents, however, were preserved and published in 1835,\nand, though now considered spurious, merit a certain attention because\nformerly regarded as genuine by such men as Victor Hugo, who, in his\n_L\u00e9gende des Si\u00e8cles_, speaks of Charlemagne as \u201cplein de douleur\u201d to\nthink\n\n    \u201cQu\u2019on fera des chansons dans toutes ces montagnes\n    Sur ses guerriers tomb\u00e9s devant des paysans,\n    Et qu\u2019on en parlera plus que quatre cents ans!\u201d\n\nM. Olivier, in his _Dictionnaire de la Conversation_, enthusiastically\nexclaims: \u201cWhat shall I say of the Basque chants, and where did this\npeople, on their inaccessible heights, obtain such boldness of rhythm\nand intonation? Every Basque air I know is grand and decided in tone,\nbut none more strikingly so than the national chant of the Escualdunacs,\nas they call themselves in their language. And yet this fine poem has\nfor some of its lines only the cardinal numbers up to twenty, and then\nrepeated in reverse order. Often, while listening to the pure, fresh\nmelody of this air, I have wondered what meaning was concealed beneath\nthese singular lines. From one hypothesis to another I have gone back\nto the time when the Vascon race, hedged in at the foot of the Pyrenees\nby the Celtic invaders, sought refuge among the inaccessible mountains.\nThen, it seemed to me, this _Chant_ was composed as a war-song in which,\nafter recounting, one by one, their years of exile, they numbered\nwith the same regularity, but in a contrary direction, their deeds of\nvengeance!\u201d\n\nSuch is the power of imagination. It is the\n\n            \u201cP\u00e8re Tournamine\n    Qui croit tout ce qu\u2019il s\u2019imagine.\u201d\n\nLet us give the literal translation of the lines in which M. Olivier\nfinds such an expression of sublime vengeance:\n\n    \u201cThey come! they come! What a forest of lances!\n    With many-colored banners floating in the midst.\n    How the lightning flashes from their arms!\n    How many are there? Boy, count them well!\n    One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten,\n        eleven, twelve,\n    Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen,\n        twenty.\n    \u2026\n    They fly! they fly! Where, then, is the forest of lances?\n    Where the many-colored banners floating in the midst?\n    The lightning no longer flashes from their blood-stained arms.\n    How many left? Boy, count them well!\n    Twenty, nineteen, eighteen, seventeen, sixteen, fifteen, fourteen,\n        thirteen,\n    Twelve, eleven, ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three,\n        two, one.\u201d\n\nThe first book in the Basque language was printed in the XVIth century,\nin the same year Rabelais published his _Pantagruel_, in which he makes\nPanurge ask in the Basque language for an _erremedio_ against poverty,\nthat he might escape the penalty of Adam which brought sweat to his\nbrow--a question many are still asking in far more intelligible language.\n\nThe most ancient specimens of genuine Basque literature show what changes\nthe language has undergone within four or five centuries, which is a\nproof against the authenticity of these _Chants_. M. Blad\u00e9, a French\ncritic, says his butter-man readily translated every word of the _Chant\ndes Cantabres_, so admired by the Baron von Humboldt. Fortunately, it is\nnot needed to prove the valor of the Cantabrians when their country was\ninvaded by the Romans, nor that of _Altabis\u00e7ar_ to show the part they\ntook in Roncesvalles\u2019 fearful fight.\n\n\nTHE ETERNAL YEARS.\n\nBY THE AUTHOR OF \u201cTHE DIVINE SEQUENCE.\u201d\n\n    \u201cTranquil Hope still trims her lamp\n    At the Eternal Years.\u201d--_Faber._\n\nCHAPTER I.\n\nOUR IMPRESSIONS.\n\nIt is probable that most of us have been, at some time in our\nintellectual and spiritual life, conscious of a divergence between our\nmental impressions and our received belief respecting the nature and\ncharacteristics of the divine Being. Outside the closed-in boundaries of\nour faith there has been, as it were, a margin of waste land which we\nseldom explore, but the undefined, uncultivated products of which flit\nathwart our imagination with something like an uncomfortable misgiving.\nWe do not go far into it, because we have our certain landmarks to stand\nby; and while the sun of faith shines bright on these, we can say to\nourselves that we have nothing really to do with the sort of fog-land\nwhich surrounds our own happy enclosure. Our allotment is one of peace\nwithin the true fold of the church.\n\nWe know where we are; we know what we have got to do; and we refuse to\nbe seriously troubled by the dubious questions which may possibly never\ndisturb us, unless we deliberately turn to them.\n\nTo us, as Catholics, this is a safe resolve. We know the Church cannot\nerr. We believe, and are ready, absolutely and unreservedly ready,\nto believe, all she puts before us as claiming our belief. And this\nis no childish superstition. It is no unmanly laying down of our\ninalienable right to know good from evil; it is no wilful deafness\nor deliberate closing of our eyes. It is the absolutely necessary\nand perfectly inevitable result of the one primary foundation of all\nour belief--namely, that the church is the organ of the Holy Ghost,\nthe infallible utterance of an infallible voice, which voice is none\nother and no less than the voice of God, speaking through and by the\ndivinely-instituted kingdom which comprises the church of God. With\nthis once firmly fixed in our hearts and intellects, nothing, can\ndisturb us. Even supposing something to be defined by the church for\nwhich we were unprepared--as was the case with some on the definition\nof the Infallibility of the Sovereign Pontiff--still these surprises,\nif surprises they be, can be no otherwise than sweet and welcome. To\nus there cannot be a jarring note in that voice which is the voice\nof the Holy Ghost. The trumpet cannot give a false sound. It is our\nfault--either intellectually our fault (which is rather a misfortune\nthan a fault) or spiritually (which is from our negligence and\nlukewarmness)--if the blast of that trumpet painfully startle us from\nour slumbers. To all who are waking and watching the sound can only be\ncheering and encouraging. The good soldier is ever ready to hear it and\nprompt to obey. The slumberer is among those to whom our Lord says: \u201cYou\nknow how to discern the face of the sky, and can you not know the signs\nof the times?\u201d[242]\n\nHe evidently expects us to know the signs of the times. The Lord is not\nin the strong wind, nor is he in the earthquake or the fire. He is in\nthe gentle air.[243] But the wind and the earthquake and the fire are\nhis precursors, and those who have experienced, and heard, and witnessed\nthese warnings should be all attention for the softer sound which is the\nutterance of the divine Voice in the church.\n\nThere should be no surprise save the surprise of a great joy, the\nadmiring astonishment of finding out how good our God is, and what\nmarvellous treasures of things new and old our great mother, the\nchurch, lays before us from time to time, as the Spirit of God moves\nover the ocean of divine love, as it were incubating the creations of\nthe world of grace. We lie down in our certainty as the infant lies\ndown in its mother\u2019s lap, and we rise on the wings of hope and faith\nas the lark rises in the morning light, without the shadow of a doubt\nthat the lambient air will uphold the little fluttering wings with\nwhich it carries its joyous song to the gates of heaven. Underneath us\nare the \u201ceverlasting arms,\u201d[244] and therefore we \u201cdwell in safety and\nalone\u201d--alone as regards those outside the church, who cannot understand\nour security, because they have never grasped the idea that, the voice\nof the church being the voice of the third Person of the ever-blessed\nTrinity to doubt the church is the same as to say that God is a liar.\n\nIf we have dwelt thus at length upon our certitude, and upon the\nintellectual and spiritual repose it gives us, we have done so for the\npurpose of making it absolutely impossible for our readers to suppose\nthat when we speak of a divergence between some of our mental impressions\nand our received belief, we are in any degree insinuating that we have\nnot got all we require in the absolute and definite teaching of the\nchurch; or that we have any cause to feel troubled about any question\nwhich the church has left as an open question, and respecting which any\none of us individually may have been unable to arrive at a conclusion.\nAll we mean is this: that there are certain feelings, impressions, and\nimaginings which we find it hard to silence and extinguish, difficult to\nclassify in accordance with our substantial belief, and which hang about\nus like a sail on the mast of a vessel which the unwary crew have left\nflapping in a dangerous gale.\n\nThe points in question may be various as the minds that contemplate them.\nThey may embrace a variety of subjects, and may assume different shapes\nand aspects, according to the external circumstances under which they\npresent themselves, or to the color of our own thoughts and feelings at\nthe moment they are before us. Their field is so vast and their possible\nvariety so great that it would be vain for us to attempt to give even\na glance at them all. Indeed, the doing so is beyond our capacity, and\nwould be beyond the capacity of any one man. For who shall tell what is\nfermenting in the thoughts of one even of his fellow-beings? He can\nmerely guess blindly at the souls of others from having dwelt in the\ndepths of his own, and knowing, as the one great fact, that all men are\nbrothers.\n\nWe are far, therefore, from intending to take up all the possible\nquestions not hedged in and limited and defined by dogmatic teaching,\nor to try and help others to come to a conclusion on each. We might as\nwell attempt to count the sands of the sea-shore. All we are proposing\nto ourselves for our own consolation, and, if possible, for that of our\nreaders, is to lay hold of certain facts which will give a clew to other\nless certain facts, and, in short--if we may be allowed to resort to a\nchemical term--to indicate certain solvents which will hold in solution\nthe little pebbles that lie in our path, and which might grow into great\nstumbling-blocks had we not a strong dissolving power always at our\ncommand.\n\nIt is self-evident that there is one knowledge which contains all other\nknowledge, and that is the knowledge of God. As all things flow from\nhim, therefore all things are in him; and if we could see or know him,\nwe should know all the rest. That knowledge, that seeing, is the \u201clight\nof glory.\u201d Its perfection is only compatible with the Beatific Vision,\nwhich vision is impossible to mere man in his condition of _viator_, or\npilgrim.[245] It is the conclusion of faith just as broad noon is the\ntermination of darkness. But as faith is the leading up to the Beatific\nVision, to the light of glory, and to the knowledge of all things,\ntherefore in its degree is it the best substitute for sight--the dawning\nof a more perfect day, and the beginning of knowledge. Consequently,\n\u201cfaith is the evidence of things that appear not.\u201d And as it is some of\nthe things \u201cthat appear not\u201d which are puzzling and bewildering many of\nus, let us lay hold of our faith and go whither it shall lead us.\n\nWe can in this life only know God mediately and obscurely by reason and\nfaith. But as the direct and clear intuition of God in the Beatific\nVision will include the knowledge of all else, so even our present\nimperfect knowledge of him comprises in a certain sense all other and\nlesser science, and is necessary to the highest knowledge of created\nthings.\n\nTo do this thoroughly we will investigate the occasional divergence\nbetween our mental impressions, as we sometimes experience them, and our\nreceived belief of the Divine Nature and characteristics.\n\nIn a burst of holy exultation S. Paul asks, \u201cWho hath known the mind of\nthe Lord?\u201d[246]--not as though regretting his ignorance, but rather with\nthe feelings of one who, having suddenly come upon an evidently priceless\ntreasure, exclaims, Who can tell what wealth now lies before us?\n\nYes, indeed! we know him well while we know him but imperfectly. There\nis more to know than we can guess at, but our hearts are too narrow to\nhold it. And yet sometimes how full to overflowing has that knowledge\nseemed! Have we not followed him from the cradle to the grave, in that\nsweet brotherhood which he has established with each one of us? Have\nwe not lost ourselves in far-reaching thoughts of how, and where he was\nwhen his brotherhood with us was not an accomplished fact, but only an\never-enduring divine intention co-equal with his own eternal existence--a\nphase of that very existence, for ever present to the Divine Idea, though\nnot yet subjected to the conditions of time? We have thought of him as\nin the bosom of the Father in a way in which, wonderful to relate, he\nnever can be again in the bosom of the Father. A something has passed in\nrespect to the existence of God himself, and actually made a difference\nin the extrinsic relations of the divine Being.\n\nThere was an eternity in which the Son of God--he whom we most seem to\nknow of the three Persons of the ever-blessed Trinity--dwelt in the bosom\nof the Father unconnected with his sacred humanity. There was an eternity\nwhen his name was not Jesus, when he was the Son of God only, and not the\nSon of man.\n\nWe are expressing what everybody knows who is a Christian--a platitude\nalmost, and yet so full of wonder that, unless we have thoroughly gone\ninto it and sifted it, we have not ransacked half the riches of what we\ncan and may know of the \u201cmind of the Lord.\u201d\n\nIn truth, we are very apt to be repelled by this contemplation. There is\nsomething dreary to us in the eternity when the Brother of our race and\nthe Spouse of our souls was only the everlasting Begotten of the Father,\ndwelling in that inscrutable eternity to which we, as the creatures of\ntime, seem to have no link. Our thoughts and imaginations are shackled\nby the conditions of our own being. Yesterday we were not. And so all\nbefore yesterday seems like a blank to us. To-morrow we know will be--if\nnot for us in this identical state, yet certainly for us in some other\nstate. But that dim yesterday, which never began and of which no history\ncan be written, no details given, only the great, grand, inarticulated\nstatement made that the QUI EST, the \u201cI am,\u201d filled it--this appalls\nus. Can nothing be done to mitigate this stupendous though beautiful\nhorror? Is there no corner into which our insignificance can creep, that\nso we may look out upon those unknown depths without feeling that we\nare plunging into a fathomless ocean, there to sink in blank darkness\nand inanition? Surely the God of the past (as from our point of view we\nreckon the past) should not be so appallingly unknown to us who have\nour beloved Jesus in the present, and who look forward to the Beatific\nVision of the whole blessed Trinity with trembling hope in the future.\nBut before we can in any degree overcome the stupor with which we think\nof the backward-flowing ages of eternity, we must endeavor more fully to\nrealize the nature of time.\n\nWe are all apt to speak of time as a period; whereas it is more properly\na state.\n\nThe generality of persons, in thinking of time in relation to eternity,\nrepresent to themselves a long, long ago, blind past, and then an\ninterminable but partially appreciable future, and time lying as a sort\nof sliced-out period between the two, which slice is attached to the\neternity behind and the eternity in front, and about which we have the\ncomfort and satisfaction of being able to write history and chronicle\nevents, either on a large or a small scale. We treat it as we should do a\nmountain of gold, which we coin into money, and we conveniently cut it up\ninto ages, years, months, days, and hours. It is our nature so to do, and\nwe cannot do otherwise. It is the condition of our being. But as it will\nnot be always the condition of our being, there are few things we are\nmore constantly exhorted to than the attempt to raise our imagination,\nor rather our faith, as much as possible out of these conventional and\narbitrary trammels, and dispose ourselves for that other state which is\nour ultimate end, and where there are no years and no days.\n\nIn point of fact, time is only an imperfection of our being--an\nabsolutely necessary imperfection, because our being is finite, and\nour state is a probationary state; and probation implies not only that\nsuccession which is necessary in every finite being, but change and\nmovement in respect to things which are permanent in a more perfect\nstate. Our condition in time has not inaptly been compared to that of a\nman looking through the small aperture of a camera-obscura, which only\npermits him to behold a section of what is passing. The figures appear\nand vanish. But the window is thrown wide open in eternity, and he sees\nthe whole at once. He is, therefore, under a disadvantage so long as he\nis in the camera-obscura, viewing the landscape through a small hole.\nAnd this is our position, judging of eternity through the aperture of\ntime. Even now we have a wonderful power of adding to our time, or of\nshortening it, without any reference to clocks or sun-dials, and which,\nif we think about it, will help to show us that time is a plastic\naccident of our being.\n\nWhen we have been very much absorbed, we have taken no note of time,\nand the hours have flown like minutes. During that interval we have,\nas it were, made our own time, and modified our condition with\nreference to time by our own act. Time, therefore, is plastic. Were we\nby some extraordinary and exceptional power to accomplish in one day\nall that actually we now take a year to effect, but at the same time\nintellectually to retain our present perception of the succession of\nevents, our life would not really have been shorter for the want of\nthose three hundred and sixty-four days which we had been able to do\nwithout. Life is shorter now than it was in the days of the patriarchs.\nBut possibly the perception of life is not shortened. Nay, rather,\nfrom the rapidity with which events are now permitted to succeed each\nother, partially owing to the progress of science and to man\u2019s increased\ndominion over material force, the probability is that our lives are not\nabstractedly much, if at all, more brief than Adam\u2019s nine hundred and\nthirty years. All things now are hastening to the end. They have always\nbeen hastening. But there is the added impetus of the past; and that\nincreases with every age in the world\u2019s history.\n\nNow, let us imagine life, or a portion of life, without thought--that is,\nwithout the act of thinking. Immediately we find that it is next door\nto _no thing_, to no time, and no life. We can only measure life with\nany accuracy by the amount of thought which has filled it--that is, by\nthe quantity of our intellectual and spiritual power which we have been\nable to bring to the small aperture in the camera-obscura, by which to\ncontemplate the ever-flowing eternity which lies beyond, and cut it up\ninto the sections we call time.\n\nAnother example will show us how plastic is the nature of time. Take\nthe life of an animal. We are inclined to give the largest reasonable\nand possible importance to the brute creation. It is an open question,\nin which we see great seeds of future development, all tending to\nincreased glory to the Creator and to further elucidation of creative\nlove. Nevertheless, it is obvious that brutes perceive only or chiefly\nby moments. There is, as compared with ourselves, little or no sequence\nin their perceptions. There is no cumulative knowledge. They are without\ndeliberate reflection, even where they are not without perception of\nrelations and circumstances, past or future. Consequently, they are more\nrigorously subjects to time than ourselves. Therefore, when we deprive\nan animal of life, we deprive him of a remainder of time that is equal\nto little more than no time, in proportion to the degree in which his\npower of filling time with perception is less than our own.[247] All\nwe have said tends to prove that the existence of time is a relative\nexistence; it is the form or phase of our own finite being. It is an\naspect of eternity--the aspect which is consistent with our present\ncondition. For time is the measure of successive existence in created\nand finite beings. As finite spirits we cannot escape from this limit of\nsuccessive existence, any more than a body can escape from the limit of\nlocality and finite movement in grace. Eternal existence is the entire\npossession of life, which is illimitable, in such a perfect manner that\nall succession in duration is excluded. This is possible only in God\nhimself, who is alone most pure and perfect act, and therefore is at once\nall he can be, without change or movement. But the created spirit must\never live by a perpetual movement of increase in its duration, because it\nis on every side finite. Time, therefore, will continue to exist while\ncreatures continue to exist.\n\nHaving arrived at this conclusion we cannot refuse ourselves the\nsatisfaction of pointing out one obvious deduction--namely, that if\ntime has, in itself, only a relative existence, it is impossible it can\never put an end to the existence of anything else. It is inconceivable\nthat the _non est_ can absorb, exterminate, annihilate, or obliterate\nany one single thing that has ever had one second of real existence,\nof permitted being, of sentient, or even of insentient, life. God can\nannihilate, if he so will (and we do not think he will), but time\ncannot. Time can hide and put away. It can slip between us and the only\nreality, which is eternity; that is the condition of God, the QUI EST.\nWait awhile, and time will have, as it were, spread or overflowed into\neternity. It will hide nothing from our view. It will be \u201crent in two\nfrom the top to the bottom,\u201d from the beginning to the end, like the\nveil of the Temple, which is its symbol. And then will appear all that\nit has hitherto seemed, but only seemed, to distinguish. We shall find\nit all in the inner recesses of eternity. What cause, in point of fact,\nhave we for supposing that anything which _is_ shall cease to exist?\nWhy, because we no longer behold certain objects, do we imagine them to\nbe really lost for ever? Is this a reasonable supposition on the part\nof beings who are conscious that once they themselves were not, and yet\nbelieve that they always shall be? Why should the mere diversity in other\nexistences make us apprehend that the missing is also the lost, and that\nwe have any substantial cause for doubting that all which exists will\ngo on existing? Do we anywhere see symptoms of annihilation? It is true\nwe see endless mutations, but those very mutations are a guarantee to\nus of the continuousness of being. All material things change: but they\nonly change. They do not ever in any case go out and cease to be. If\nthis be true of merely material things, how absolutely true must it be\nof the immaterial; and how more than probable of that which is partly\none and partly the other, of that far lower nature of the brutes, which\nhave a principle of life in them inferior to ours and superior to the\nplants, and of which, since we do not believe their sensations to be the\nresult of certain fortuitous atoms that have fashioned themselves blindly\nafter an inexorable law, and independently of an intelligent Lawgiver,\nwe may reasonably predicate that they too will have a future and, in\nits proper inferior order, an advanced existence. Everywhere there is\ngrowth--through the phases of time into the portals of eternity.\n\nThe idea in the eternal Mind, of all essences, the least as well as the\ngreatest, was, like the Mind that held it, eternal--that is, exempt\nfrom all limit of succession. The past, present, and future are the\nprogressive modes of existence and of our own perceptions rather than\nthe properties of the essences themselves. Those essences had a place in\nthe Eternal Idea; they occupy an actual place as an actual existence in\nthe phases of time, and they go on in all probability--may we not say\nin all certainty?--in the endlessness of the Creator\u2019s intention. Let\nno one misunderstand this as implying that matter was eternal in any\nother sense than its essence being an object of the idea of the eternal\nGod, it was always clearly present to the eternal Mind. Its actuality,\nas we know it, dates from this creation of the crude, chaotic mass.\nBut once formed, and then fashioned, and finally animated, we can have\nno pretence for supposing that any part of it will ever cease to be.\nNor can we have any solid reason for supposing that what has once been\nendowed with sentient life will ever be condemned to fall back into the\nall but infinitely lower form of mere organic matter, any more than we\nhave reason to suppose that at some future period organic matter will\nbe reduced to inorganic matter, and that out of this beautiful creation\nit will please God to resolve chaos back again, either the whole or in\nany one the smallest part. We have nothing to do with the difficulties\nof the question. They are difficulties entirely of detail, and not of\nprinciple; and they concern us no more than it concerns us to be able\nto state how many animalcula it took to heave up the vast sierras of\nthe western hemisphere. The details may well puzzle us, and we cannot\nventure on the merest suggestion. But the principle is full of hope,\njoy, and security, which in itself is a presumption in its favor. If we\nwould but believe how God values the work of his own hands; if we would\nbut try to realize how intense is creative love, what much larger and\ndeeper views we should have of the future of all creation, and of the\nglory that is prepared for us! Even the old heathen religions began by\ntaking larger and more accurate measure of these questions (though they\nnecessarily ended in error) than too many of us do with all the light of\nthe Gospel thrown upon them. The animism of the heathens, which makes no\ndistinction between animate and inanimate existence, but lends a soul\nto each alike, had in it a sort of loving and hopeful reverence for\ncreation which is often wanting to us who alone truly know the Creator.\nIn their blind groping after faith it led them to fetichism, and further\non, as a fuller development of the same notion, to pantheism, and then\nto the ever-renewed and quite endless incarnations of Buddha. But these\nerrors took their rise originally from a respectful and tender love of\nthat beautiful though awful nature which man found lying all around him;\nexternal to himself, yet linked to himself, and beneath the folds of\nwhich he hoped to find the hidden deity.\n\nIf these reflections have at all enabled us to understand the nature\nof time, and to shake off some of the unreasonable importance we lend\nto it in our imaginations--making of it a sort of lesser rival to\neternity, fashioning it into an actual, existing thing, as if it were an\nattribute of God himself, instead of being, what it is, a state or phase\nimposed upon us, and not in any way affecting him--we shall have done\nmuch to facilitate the considerations we wish to enlarge upon. Eternity\nis \u201cperpetually instantaneous.\u201d It is the _nunc stans_ of theology.\nTime, on the contrary, is the past, present, and future of our human\ncondition--the _nunc fluens_ of theology.\n\nWith this truth well rooted in our minds, we will now turn to the\ninvestigation of some of those impressions to which we referred at the\nbeginning of this section, and endeavor to throw light upon them from out\nof the additional knowledge we acquire of the nature and characteristics\nof the divine Being through the simple process of clearing away some\nof our false impressions with respect to time. We had in our modes of\nthought more or less hemmed in the Eternal, with our human sense of time,\nand subjected even him to the narrowing process of a past, present, and\nfuture. Now we are about to think of ourselves only in that position, and\nto contemplate him in eternity, dealing with us through the medium of\ntime, but distinctly with a reference to eternity, and only apparently\nimposing on himself the conditions of time in order to bring himself, as\nit were, on a level with us in his dealings with us.\n\nStrange as it may appear, out of the depths of our stupidity we have\nfabricated a difficulty to ourselves in his very condescensions, and,\nlooking back from our present to the past, we find ourselves puzzled at\ncertain divers revelations of God made to mankind in gone-by times; just\nas, in the weakness of our faith, we are sometimes troubled with doubts\nabout our own condition, and that of those about us, in that future which\nmust come, and which may not be far off to any one of us.\n\nThe God of Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob--is he really quite the same as\nour own God? our God of the womb of Mary, of the manger, of the wayside\nplaces in Palestine, and Mount Calvary, and now, of the silken-curtained\nTabernacle, and the Blessed Eucharist, and the dear, ineffable moments of\nsilent prayer--is he the same?\n\nOf course we know that, literally and absolutely, he is the same\nyesterday, to-day, and for ever. Nevertheless, he appears to us\nunder such different aspects that we find ourselves unintentionally\ncontemplating the Old Testament as a revelation of the divine Being with\nvery different emotions from those with which we contemplate him in the\nNew Testament, and this, again, differing widely from our view of him\nin the church. It may be a mere matter of feeling, perhaps; but it is\nnevertheless a feeling which materially influences our form of devotion,\nthe vigor of our faith, and the power of our hope and love.\n\nIf we could take in all these different impressions and amalgamate them;\nif we could group them together, or make them like the several rays of\nlight directed into one focus, we should obtain a more complete and a\nmore influential knowledge of God than we can do while we seem rather to\nbe wandering out of one view of him into another, as if we walked from\nchamber to chamber and closed each door behind us.\n\nNow, the only way we can arrive at this is by bearing in mind that the\nacts of God in governing the world are not momentary and solitary facts,\nbut continuous acts, or rather one continuous act.\n\nOur difficulty lies in producing a visibly satisfactory harmony in our\nown minds as regards the acts of God, and thus (though for our own\nappreciation of them, they are to us broken up into fragments, or, in\nother terms, into separate facts) arriving at the same mental attitude\ntowards them as though we saw them as one continuous act.\n\nIt will aid us in our search if we, first of all, endeavor to qualify\nthat act.\n\nIts very continuity, its perpetual instantaneousness, must essentially\naffect its character and make the definition no complex matter. It is an\nact of love, and it is revealed as such in the whole creation, and in the\nway God has let himself down to us and is drawing us up unto himself.\nThere have been many apparent modifications, but there have been no\nactual contradictions, in this characteristic; for even the existence of\nevil works round to greater good, to a degree sufficiently obvious to us\nfor us to know that where it is less obvious it must nevertheless follow\nthe same law. For law is everywhere; because God is law, though law is\nnot God.\n\nModern unbelief substitutes law for God, and then thinks it has done away\nwith him. To us who believe it makes no difference how far back in the\nlong continuous line of active forces we may find the original and divine\nAuthor of all force. It is nothing but the weakness of our imagination\nwhich makes it more difficult to count by millions than by units.\n\nWhat does it matter to our faith through how many developments the\ncondition of creation, as we now see it all around us, may have passed,\nwhen we know that the first idea sprang from the great Source of all law,\nand that with him the present state is as much one continuous act as the\npast state and the future state? You may trace back the whole material\nuniverse, if you will, to the one first molecule of chaotic matter; but\nso long as I find that first molecule in the hand of my Creator (and I\ndefy you to put it anywhere else), it is enough for my faith.\n\nYou do not make him one whit the less my Creator and my God because\nan initial law or force, with which he then stamped it, has worked\nit out to what I now see it. You may increase the apparent distance\nbetween the world as it is actually and the divine Fount from whence\nit sprang; you may seem to remove the creative love which called the\nuniverse into existence further off, by thus lengthening the chain of\nwhat you call developments; but, after all, these developments are for\never bridged over by the ulterior intentions of the Triune Deity when\nhe said,\u201cLet us make man in our image,\u201d and by the fact that space and\ntime are mere accidents as viewed in relation to the QUI EST. They are,\nso to speak, divinely-constituted conventionalities, through which the\nDivinity touches upon our human condition, but which in no way affect\nthe Divine Essence as it is in itself. On the contrary, in the broken-up\ndevelopments and evolutions which you believe you trace, and which you\nwant to make into a blind law which shall supersede a divine Creator, I\nsee only the pulsations of time breaking up the perpetually instantaneous\nact of God, just as I see the pulsations of light in the one unbroken\nray. The act of God passes through the medium of time before it reaches\nour ken; and the ray of light passes through the medium of air before it\nstrikes our senses; but both are continuous and instantaneous.\n\nIf we have in any degree succeeded in establishing this to our\nsatisfaction, it will become easier for us to estimate the acts of God as\nthey come to us through the pulsations of Time; because we shall be able\nto bear in mind that they must be in a measure interpreted to us by the\ntime through which they reach us. They were modified by the time in which\nthey were revealed, much as the ray is modified by the substance through\nwhich it forces its way to us.\n\nNow, we arrive at the causes of the different impressions we receive\nof the nature and characteristics of the divine Being. They are a\nconsequence of the different epochs in which we contemplate him. They are\nthe pulsations appropriate to that epoch. Other pulsations belong to our\nportion of time, and to our consequent view of the divine Being; and so\non and on, till time shall be swallowed up in Eternity, and the Beatific\nVision burst upon us.\n\nTO BE CONTINUED.\n\n\nMISSIONS IN MAINE FROM 1613 TO 1854.\n\n\u201cTHE BLOOD OF THE MARTYRS IS THE SEED OF THE CHURCH.\u201d\n\nTo the historical student the following paper can have but trifling\nvalue, as the writer makes no pretension to originality of matter, and\nseeks but to bring within the grasp of the general reader, in a condensed\nform, the gist of many books, a large number of which are rare, and\nalmost inaccessible.\n\nIt is hoped, however, that there are many persons who will read with\ninterest a paper thus compiled from undoubted authorities, who have\nneither the time nor the inclination to consult these authorities for\nthemselves. These persons will learn with wonder of the self-abnegation\nof the French priests who went forth among the savages with their lives\nin their hands, with but one thought in their brains, one wish in their\nhearts, one prayer on their lips--the evangelization of the Indians.\n\nAs Shea says: \u201cThe word Christianity was, in those days, identical with\nCatholicity. The religion to be offered to the New World was that of the\nChurch of Rome, which church was free from any distinct national feeling,\nand in extending her boundaries carried her own language and rites, not\nthose of any particular state.\u201d\n\nThe Franciscan, Dominican, and Jesuit bore the heat and burden of\nthe day, and reaped the most bountiful harvest in that part of North\nAmerica now known as the State of Maine; and the first mission in that\nneighborhood was planted at Mt. Desert, and called St. Sauveur. A hotel\nat Bar Harbor is so named, but not one in a hundred of the numerous\nguests who cross its threshold knows the reason of the French name of\ntheir temporary abiding-place.\n\nThis reason, and the facts connected therewith, we shall now proceed to\ngive to our readers. In 1610 Marie de M\u00e9dicis was Regent of France. The\nking had been assassinated in the streets of Paris in the previous month\nof May. Sully was dismissed from court. All was confusion and dissension.\nTwelve years of peace and the judicious rule of the king had paid the\nnational debt and filled the treasury.\n\nThe famous Father Cotton, confessor of the late king, was still powerful\nat court. He laid before the queen the facts that Henri IV. had been\ndeeply interested in the establishment of the Jesuit order in Acadia, and\nhad evinced a tangible proof of that interest in the bestowal of a grant\nof two thousand livres per annum.\n\nThe ambitious queen listened indulgently, with a heart softened,\npossibly, by recent sorrows, and consented to receive the son of the\nBaron Poutrincourt, who had just returned from the New World, where he\nhad left his father with Champlain. Father Cotton ushered the handsome\nstripling into the presence of the stately queen and her attendant\nladies. Young Biencourt at first stood silent and abashed, but, as the\nladies gathered about him and plied him with questions, soon forgot\nhimself and told wondrous tales of the dusky savages--of their strange\ncustoms and of their eagerness for instruction in the true faith. He\ndisplayed the baptismal register of the converts of Father Fl\u00e9che, and\nimplored the sympathy and aid of these glittering dames, and not in vain;\nfor, fired with pious emulation, they tore the flashing jewels from their\nears and throats. Among these ladies was one whose history and influence\nwere so remarkable that we must translate for our readers some account of\nher from the Abb\u00e9 de Choisy.\n\nAntoinette de Pons, Marquise de Guercheville had been famed throughout\nFrance, not only for her grace and beauty, but for qualities more rare at\nthe court where her youth had been passed.\n\nWhen Antoinette was La Duchesse de Rochefoucauld, the king begged her to\naccept a position near the queen. \u201cMadame,\u201d he said, as he presented her\nto Marie de M\u00e9dicis, \u201cI give you a Lady of Honor who is a lady of honor\nindeed.\u201d\n\nTwenty years had come and gone. The youthful beauty of the _marquise_ had\nfaded, but she was fair and stately still, and one of the most brilliant\nornaments of the brilliant court; and yet she was not altogether worldly.\nAgain a widow and without children, she had become sincerely religious,\nand threw herself heart and soul into the American missions, and was\nrestrained only by the positive commands of her mistress the queen from\nherself seeking the New World.\n\nDay and night she thought of these perishing souls. On her knees in her\noratory she prayed for the Indians, and contented herself not with this\nalone. From the queen and from the ladies of the court she obtained\nmoney, and jewels that could be converted into money. Charlevoix tells\nus that the only difficulty was to restrain her ardor within reasonable\nbounds.\n\nTwo French priests, Paul Biard and En\u00e9mond Mass\u00e9, were sent to Dieppe,\nthere to take passage for the colonies. The vessel was engaged by\nPoutrincourt and his associates, and was partially owned by two Huguenot\nmerchants, who persistently and with indignation refused to permit the\nembarkation of the priests. No entreaties or representations availed, and\nfinally La Marquise bought out the interest of the two merchants in the\nvessel and cargo, and transferred it to the priests as a fund for their\nsupport.\n\nAt last the fathers set sail, on the 26th of January, 1611. Their\ntroubles, however, were by no means over; for Biencourt, a mere lad,\nclothed in a little brief authority--manly, it is true, beyond his\nyears--hampered them at every turn. They arrived at Port Royal in June,\nafter a hazardous and tempestuous voyage, having seen, as Father Biard\nwrites, icebergs taller and larger than the Church of Notre Dame.\nThe fathers became discouraged by the constant interference of young\nBiencourt, and determined to return to Europe, unless they could, with\nMme. de Guercheville\u2019s aid, found a mission colony in some other spot.\n\nTheir zealous protectress obtained from De Monts--who, though a\nProtestant, had erected six years before the first cross in Maine at\nthe mouth of the Kennebec--a transfer of all his claims to the lands of\nAcadia, and soon sent out a small vessel with forty colonists, commanded\nby La Saussaye, a nobleman, and having on board two Jesuit priests,\nFathers du Thet and Quentin.\n\nIt was on the 1st of March, 1613, that this vessel left Honfleur, laden\nwith supplies, and followed by prayers and benedictions.\n\nOn the 16th of May La Saussaye reached Port Royal, and there took on\nboard Fathers Mass\u00e9 and Biard, and then set sail for the Penobscot. A\nheavy fog arose and encompassed them about; if it lifted for a moment,\nit was but to show them a white gleam of distant breakers or a dark,\noverhanging cliff.\n\n\u201cOur prayers were heard,\u201d wrote Biard, \u201cand at night the stars came out,\nand the morning sun devoured the fogs, and we found ourselves lying in\nFrenchmans Bay opposite Mt. Desert.\u201d\n\nL\u2019Isle des Monts D\u00e9serts had been visited and so named by Champlain in\n1604, and Frenchman\u2019s Bay gained its title from a singular incident that\nhad there taken place in the same spring.\n\nDe Monts had broken up his winter encampment at St. Croix. Among his\ncompany was a young French ecclesiastic, Nicholas d\u2019Aubri, who, to\ngratify his curiosity in regard to the products of the soil in this new\nand strange country, insisted on being set ashore for a ramble of a few\nhours. He lost his way, and the boatmen, after an anxious search, were\ncompelled to leave him. For eighteen days the young student wandered\nthrough woods, subsisting on berries and the roots of the plant known as\nSolomon\u2019s Seal. He, however, kept carefully near the shore, and at the\nend of this time he distinguished a sail in the distance. Signalling\nthis, he was fortunate enough to be taken off by the same crew that had\nlanded him. On these bleak shores the colonists decided to make their\nfuture home, and, with singular infelicity, selected them as the site of\nthe new colony. It is inconceivable how Father Biard, who had already\nspent some time in the New World, could have failed to suggest to La\nSaussaye and to their patroness that a colony, to be a success, must be\nnot only in a spot easily accessible to France, but that a small force of\narmed men was imperative; for, to Biard\u2019s own knowledge, the English had\nalready seized several French vessels in that vicinity.\n\nOn these frowning shores La Saussaye landed, and erected a cross, and\ndisplayed the escutcheon of Mme. de Guercheville; the fathers offered the\nHoly Sacrifice of the Mass, and gave to the little settlement the name of\nSt. Sauveur.\n\nFour tents--the gift of the queen--shone white in the soft spring\nsunshine. The largest of these was used as a chapel, the decorations of\nwhich, with the silver vessels for the celebration of the Mass and the\nrich vestments, were presented by Henriette d\u2019Entraigues, Marquise de\nVerneuil.\n\nThe colonists labored night and day to raise their little fort and to\nland their supplies. Their toil was nearly over, the vessel, ready for\nsea, rode at anchor, when a sudden and violent storm arose.\n\nThis storm had been felt twenty-four hours earlier off the Isles of\nShoals by a fishing vessel commanded by one Samuel Argall. Thick fogs\nbewildered him, and a strong wind drove him to the northeast; and when\nthe weather cleared, Argall found himself off the coast of Maine. Canoes\ncame out like flocks of birds from each small bay. The Indians climbed\nthe ship\u2019s side, and greeted the new-comers with such amazing bows and\nflourishes that Argall, with his native acuteness, felt certain that they\ncould have learned them only from the French, who could not be far away.\nArgall plied the Indians with cunning questions, and soon learned of the\nnew settlement. He resolved to investigate farther, and set sail for the\nwild heights of Mt. Desert. With infinite patience he crept along through\nthe many islands, and, rounding the Porcupines, saw a small ship anchored\nin the bay. At the same moment the French saw the English ship bearing\ndown upon them \u201cswifter than an arrow,\u201d writes Father Biard, \u201cwith every\nsail set, and the English flags streaming from mast-head and stern.\u201d\n\nLa Saussaye was within the fort, Lieut. la Motte on board with Father du\nThet, an ensign, and a sergeant. Argall bore down amid a bewildering din\nof drums and trumpets. \u201cFire!\u201d cried La Motte. Alas! the gunner was on\nshore. Father du Thet seized and applied the match.\n\nAnother scathing discharge of musketry, and the brave priest lay dead. He\nhad his wish; for the day before he left France he prayed with uplifted\nhands that he might not return, but perish on that holy enterprise. He\nwas buried the following day at the foot of the rough cross he had helped\nto erect.\n\nLa Motte, clear-sighted enough to see the utter uselessness of any\nfarther attempt at defence, surrendered, and Argall took possession of\nthe vessel and of La Saussaye\u2019s papers, from among which he abstracted\nthe royal commission. On La Saussaye\u2019s return from the woods, where he\nhad retreated with the colonists, he was met by Argall, who informed him\nthat the country belonged to his master, King James, and finally asked\nto see his commission. In vain did the French nobleman search for it.\nArgall\u2019s courtesy changed to wrath; he accused the officer of piracy, and\nordered the settlement to be given up to pillage, but offered to take\nany of the settlers who had a trade back to Virginia with him, promising\nthem protection. Argall counted, however, without his host; for on\nreaching Jamestown the governor swore that the French priests should be\nhung. Useless were Argall\u2019s remonstrances, and finally, seeing no other\nway to save the lives of the fathers, he produced the commission and\nacknowledged his stratagem.\n\nThe wrath of Sir Thomas Dale was unappeased, but the lives of the priests\nwere, of course, safe. He despatched Argall with two additional ships\nback to Mt. Desert, with orders to cut down the cross and level the\ndefences.\n\nFather Biard was on board, as well as Father Mass\u00e9; they, with refined\ncruelty, being sent to witness the destruction of their hopes.\n\nThis work of destruction completed, Argall set sail for Virginia. Again\na storm arose, and the vessel on which were the ecclesiastics was driven\nto the Azores. Here the Jesuits, who had been so grossly ill-treated, had\nbut a few words to say to be avenged. The captain of the vessel was not\nwithout uneasiness, and entreated the priests to remain in concealment\nwhen the vessel was visited by the authorities. This visit over, the\nEnglish purchased all they needed, and weighed anchor for England.\nArrived there, a new difficulty occurred; for there was no commission\nto show. The captain was treated as a pirate, thrown into prison, and\nreleased only on the testimony of the Jesuit Fathers, who thus returned\ngood for evil.\n\nFather Biard hastened to France, where he became professor of theology at\nLyons, and died at Avignon on the 17th of November, 1622. Father Mass\u00e9\nreturned to Canada, where he labored without ceasing until his death, in\n1646.\n\nWith the destruction of St. Sauveur, the pious designs of Mme. de\nGuercheville seem to have perished. At any rate, the most diligent\nresearch fails to find her name again in the annals of that time.\nProbably the troubled state of France made it impossible for her to\nprovide the sinews of war, or of evangelization. Nevertheless, the good\nseed was planted, and zeal for the mission cause again revived in Europe,\nparticularly in the Society of Jesus. Young men left court and camp to\nshare the privations and life of self-denial of the missionaries. Even\nthe convents partook of the general enthusiasm, and Ursuline Nuns came to\nshow the Indians Christianity in daily life, ministering to the sick and\ninstructing the young.\n\nMany years after the melancholy failure of the mission at Mt. Desert, an\napparent accident recalled the Jesuit Fathers to the coast of Maine.\n\nIn 1642 there was a mission at Sillery, on the St. Lawrence, where had\nbeen gathered together a large number of Indian converts, who lived, with\ntheir families about them, in peace and harmony under the watchful care\nof the kind fathers. Among these converts was a chief who, to rescue\nsome of his tribe who had been taken prisoners, started off through the\npathless wilderness, and finally reached the English at Coussinoe, now\nknown as Augusta, on the Kennebec.\n\nThere the Indian convert so extolled the Christian faith and its mighty\npromises that he took back with him several of the tribe. These were\nbaptized at Sillery, and became faithful servants of our Lord Jesus\nChrist. In consequence of the entreaties of these converts, Father\nGabriel Drouillettes was sent to the lonely Kennebec.\n\nHere he built a chapel of fir-trees in a place now known as Norridgewock,\na lovely, secluded spot. Some years before Father Biard had been there\nfor a few weeks, so that the Indians were not totally unprepared to\nreceive religious instruction. Father Drouillettes was greatly blessed\nin his teaching, and converted a large number, inspiring them with a\nprofound love for the Catholic faith, which the English, twenty years\nbefore, had failed to do for the Protestant religion. He taught them\nsimple prayers, and translated for their use, into their own dialect,\nseveral hymns. The savages even learned to sing, and it was not long\nbefore the solemn strains of the _Dies Ir\u00e6_ awakened strange echoes in\nthe primeval forests.\n\nEven the English, biassed as they were against the Catholics, watched\nthe good accomplished by the faithful servant of the great Master, and\nlearned to regard his coming as a great blessing, though at this very\ntime the stern Puritans at Plymouth were enacting cruel laws against his\norder.\n\nWhen the Indians went to Moosehead Lake to hunt and fish, Father\nDrouillettes went with them, watching over his flock with unswerving\nsolicitude. But the day of his summons to Quebec came, and a general\nfeeling of despair overwhelmed his converts. He went, and the Assumption\nMission was deserted; for by that name, as it was asked for on that day,\nwas this mission always designated.\n\nYear after year the Abnakis--for so were called the aborigines of\nMaine--sent deputations to Quebec to entreat the return of their beloved\npriest, but in vain; for the number of missionaries was at that time very\nlimited. Finally, in 1650, Father Drouillettes set out with a party on\nthe last day of August for the tiresome eight days\u2019 march through the\nwilderness; the party lost their way, their provisions were gone, and it\nwas not until twenty-four days afterwards that they reached Norridgewock.\n\nFrom a letter written at this time by Father Drouillettes we transcribe\nthe following: \u201cIn spite of all that is painful and crucifying to nature\nin these missions, there are also great joys and consolations. More\nplenteous than I can describe are those I feel, to see that the seed of\nthe Gospel I scattered here four years ago, in land which for so many\ncenturies has lain fallow, or produced only thorns and brambles, already\nbears fruit so worthy of the Lord.\u201d Nothing could exceed the veneration\nand affection of the Indians for their missionary; and when an Englishman\nvehemently accused the French priest of slandering his nation, the chiefs\nhurried to Augusta, and warned the authorities to take heed and not\nattack their father even in words.\n\nThe following spring Father Drouillettes was sent to a far-distant\nstation, and years elapsed before he returned to Quebec, where he died in\n1681, at the age of eighty-eight.\n\nAbout this time two brothers, Vincent and Jacques Bigot, men of rank\nand fortune, left their homes in sunny France to share the toil and\nprivations of life in the New World. They placed themselves and their\nfortunes in the hands of the superior at Quebec, and were sent to\nlabor in the footprints of Father Drouillettes. During their faithful\nministrations at Norridgewock, the chapel built by their predecessor\nwas burned by the English, but was rebuilt in 1687 by English workmen\nsent from Boston, according to treaty stipulations. And now appears upon\nthe scene the stately form of one of the greatest men of that age; but\nbefore we attempt to bring before our readers the character and acts of\nSebastian R\u00e2le, we must beg them to turn from Norridgewock, the scene\nof his labors and martyrdom, to the little village of Castine. For in\n1688 Father Thury, a priest of the diocese of Quebec, a man of tact and\nability, had gathered about him a band of converts at Panawauski, on the\nPenobscot. This settlement was protected by the Baron Saint-Castine.\nThis Saint-Castine was a French nobleman and a soldier who originally\nwent to Canada in command of a regiment. The regiment was disbanded, and\nSaint-Castine\u2019s disappointed ambition and a heart sore from domestic\ntrials decided him, rather than return to France, to plunge into the\nwilderness, and there, far from kindred and nation, create for himself a\nnew home.\n\nAfter a while the baron married a daughter of one of the sachems of\nthe Penobscot Indians, and became himself a sagamore of the tribe. The\ndescendants of this marriage hold at the present day some portion of the\nSaint-Castine lands in Normandy.\n\nTwice was the French baron driven from his home by the Dutch; twice\nwas the simple chapel burned by them. In 1687 Sir Edmund Andros was\nappointed governor of New England, and in the following year, sailing\neastward in the frigate _Rose_, he anchored opposite the little fort and\nprimitive home of Saint-Castine. The baron retreated with the small band\nof settlers to the woods. Andros, being a Catholic, touched nothing in\nthe chapel, but carried off everything else in the village. In 1703 the\nwar known as Queen Anne\u2019s war broke out. Again Saint-Castine was attacked\nby the English, and his wife and children carried off as prisoners, but\nwere soon after exchanged. From this time the name of Baron Saint-Castine\nappears in all the annals of the time, as the courageous defender of his\nfaith and of its priests. Father R\u00e2le, at Norridgewock, turned to him for\ncounsel and aid, and never turned in vain. From Castine on to Mt. Desert\nthe shores are full of historical interest; for there were many French\nsettlements thereabouts, the attention of that nation having been drawn\nto that especial locality by a grant of land which M. Cardillac obtained\nof Louis XIV. in April, 1691. This grant was evidently made to confirm\npossession. A certain Mme. de Gr\u00e9goire proved herself to be a lineal\ndescendant of Cardillac, and in 1787 acquired a partial confirmation of\nthe original grant.\n\nRelics of the French settlers are constantly turned up by the plough in\nthe vicinity of Castine, and in 1840 a quantity of French gold pieces\nwere found; but of infinitely more interest was the discovery there, in\n1863, of a copper plate ten inches in length and eight in width. The\nfinder, knowing nothing of the value of this piece of metal, cut off a\nportion to repair his boat. This fragment was, however, subsequently\nrecovered. The letters on the plate are unquestionably abbreviations of\nthe following inscription: \u201c1648, 8 Junii, S. Frater Leo Parisiensis, in\nCapuccinorum Missione, posuit hoc fundamentum in honorem nostr\u00e6 Domin\u00e6\nSanct\u00e6 Spei\u201d--1648, 8th of June, Holy Friar Leo of Paris, Capuchin\nmissionary, laid this foundation in honor of Our Lady of Holy Hope.\n\nIn regard to this Father Leo the most diligent research fails to find\nany other trace. The plate, however, was without doubt placed in the\nfoundation of a Catholic chapel--probably the one within the walls of the\nold French fort. Father Sebastian R\u00e2le sailed in 1689 for America. After\nremaining for nearly two years in Quebec, he went thence to Norridgewock.\nHe found the Abnakis nearly all converted, and at once applied himself to\nlearning their dialect. To this work he brought his marvellous patience\nand energy, and all his wondrous insight into human nature. He began his\ndictionary, and erected a chapel on the spot known now as Indian Old\nPoint. This chapel he supplied with all the decorations calculated to\nengage the imagination and fix the wandering attention of the untutored\nsavage. The women contended with holy emulation in the embellishment of\nthe sanctuary. They made mats of the soft and brightly-tinted plumage\nof the forest birds and of the white-breasted sea-gulls. They brought\nofferings of huge candles, manufactured from the fragrant wax of the\nbay-berry, with which the chapel was illuminated. A couple of nuns from\nMontreal made a brief sojourn at Norridgewock, that they might teach the\nIndian women to sew and to make a kind of lace with which to adorn the\naltar. Busied with his dictionary and with his flock, Father R\u00e2le thus\npassed the most peaceful days of his life; but this blessed quiet ended\nonly too soon.\n\nIn 1705 a party of English, under the command of a Capt. Hilton, burst\nfrom out the forest, attacking the little village from all sides at once,\nfinishing by burning the chapel and every hut.\n\nAbout the same time the governor-general of New England sent to the lower\npart of the Kennebec the ablest of the Boston divines to instruct the\nIndian children. As Baxter\u2019s (the missionary) salary depended on his\nsuccess, he neglected no means that could attract.\n\nFor two months he labored in vain. His caresses and little gifts were\nthrown away; for he made not one convert.\n\nFather R\u00e2le wrote to Baxter that his neophytes were good Christians, but\nfar from able in disputes.\n\nThis same letter, which was of some length, challenged the Protestant\nclergyman to a discussion. Baxter, after a long delay, sent a brief\nreply, in Latin so bad that the learned priest says it was impossible to\nunderstand it.\n\nIn 1717 the Indian chiefs held a council. The governor of New England\noffered them an English and an Indian Bible, and Mr. Baxter as their\nexpounder.\n\nThe Abnakis refused them one and all, and elected to adhere to their\nCatholic faith, saying: \u201cAll people love their own priests! Your Bibles\nwe do not care for, and God has already sent us teachers.\u201d\n\nThus years passed on in monotonous labor. The only relaxation permitted\nto himself by Father R\u00e2le was the work on his dictionary. The converts\nvenerated their priest; their keen eyes and quick instincts saw the\nsincerity of his life, the reality of his affection for them, and\nrecognized his self-denial and generosity. They went to him with their\ncares and their sorrows, with their simple griefs and simpler pleasures.\nHe listened with unaffected sympathy and interest. No envious rival, no\njealous competitor, no heretical teacher, disturbed the relations between\npastor and flock. So, too, was it but natural that they should look to\nhim for advice when they gathered about their council-fires.\n\nThe wrongs which the Eastern Indians were constantly enduring at the\nhands of the English settlers kindled to a living flame the smouldering\nhatred in their hearts, which they sought every opportunity of wreaking\nin vengeance on their foe. Thus, like lightning on the edge of the\nhorizon, they hovered on the frontier, making daring forays on the farms\nof the settlers.\n\nIt was not unnatural that the English, bristling with prejudices\nagainst the French, and still more against Catholics, should have seen\nfit to look on Father R\u00e2le as the instigator of all these attacks,\nforgetting--what is undeniably true--that Father R\u00e2le\u2019s converts were\nmilder and kinder and more Christian-like than any of their Indian\nneighbors. The good father was full of concern when he heard that a\nfierce and warlike tribe, who had steadily resisted all elevating\ninfluences, were about settling within a day\u2019s journey of Norridgewock.\nHe feared lest his children should be led away by pernicious examples; so\nhe with difficulty persuaded some of the strangers to enter the chapel,\nand to be present at some of the imposing ceremonies of the mother\nchurch. At the close of the service he addressed them in simple words,\nand thus concluded:\n\n\u201cLet us not separate, that some may go one way and some another. Let\nus all go to heaven. It is our country, and the place to which we are\ninvited by the sole Master of life, of whom I am but the interpreter.\u201d\nThe reply of the Indians was evasive; but it was evident that an\nimpression was made, and in the autumn they sent to him to say that if he\nwould come to them they would receive his teachings.\n\nFather R\u00e2le gladly went at this bidding, erected a cross and a chapel,\nand finally baptized nearly the whole tribe.\n\nAt this time Father R\u00e2le wrote to his nephew a letter, in which he\nsays: \u201cMy new church is neat, and its elegantly-ornamented vestments,\nchasubles, copes, and holy vessels would be esteemed highly appropriate\nin almost any church in Europe. A choir of young Indians, forty in\nnumber, assist at the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, and chant the divine\nOffices for the consecration of the Holy Sacrament; and you would be\nedified by the beautiful order they preserve and the devotion they\nmanifest. After the Mass I teach the young children, and the remainder\nof the morning is devoted to seeing those who come to consult me on\naffairs of importance. Thus, you see, I teach some, console others, seek\nto re-establish peace in families at variance, and to calm troubled\nconsciences.\u201d\n\nAnother letter still later, in speaking of the attachment of the converts\nto their faith, says: \u201cAnd when they go to the sea-shore in summer to\nfish, I accompany them; and when they reach the place where they intend\nto pass the night, they erect stakes at intervals in the form of a\nchapel, and spread a tent made of ticking. All is complete in fifteen\nminutes. I always carry with me a beautiful board of cedar, with the\nnecessary supports. This serves for an altar, and I ornament the interior\nwith silken hangings. A huge bear-skin serves as a carpet, and divine\nservice is held within an hour.\u201d\n\nWhile away on one of the excursions which Father R\u00e2le thus describes, the\nvillage was attacked by the English; and again, in 1722, by a party of\ntwo hundred under Col. Westbrook. New England had passed a law imposing\nimprisonment for life on Catholic priests, and a reward was offered for\nthe head of Father R\u00e2le. The party was seen, as they entered the valley\nof the Kennebec, by two braves, who hurried on to give the alarm; the\npriest having barely time to escape to the woods with the altar vessels\nand vestments, leaving behind him all his papers and his precious Abnaki\ndictionary, which was enclosed in a strong box of peculiar construction.\nIt had two rude pictures on the lid, one of the scourging of our Blessed\nLord, and the other of the Crowning of Thorns. This box is now in the\npossession of the Massachusetts Historical Society, while the dictionary\nitself is at Harvard.\n\nFather R\u00e2le saved himself by taking refuge in a hollow tree, where he\nremained for thirty-six hours, suffering from hunger and a broken leg.\n\nWith wonderful courage Father R\u00e2le built up another chapel, and writes\nthus, after recounting the efforts of the English to take him prisoner:\n\u201cIn the words of the apostle, I conclude: I do not fear the threats of\nthose who hate me without a cause, and I count not my life dear unto\nmyself, so that I might finish my course and the ministry which I have\nreceived of the Lord Jesus.\u201d\n\nAgain, over the council-fires, the Indian chiefs assembled. They decided\nto send an embassy to Boston, to demand that their chapel, which had been\ndestroyed by the English, should be rebuilt.\n\nThe governor, anxious to secure the alliance of the tribe, listened\npatiently, and told them in reply that it belonged properly to the\ngovernor of Canada to rebuild their church; still, that he would do it,\nprovided they would agree to receive the clergy he would choose, and\nwould send back to Quebec the French priest who was then with them. We\ncannot forbear repeating here the unequalled satire of the Indian\u2019s reply:\n\n\u201cWhen you came here,\u201d answered the chief, \u201cwe were unknown to the French\ngovernor, but no one of you spoke of prayer or of the Great Spirit. You\nthought only of my skins and furs. But one day I met a French black-coat\nin the forest. He did not look at the skins with which I was loaded, but\nhe said words to me of the Great Spirit, of Paradise and of hell, and of\nprayer, by which is the only path to heaven.\n\n\u201cI listened with pleasure, and at last begged him to teach and to baptize\nme.\n\n\u201cIf, when you saw me, you had spoken to me of prayer, I should have had\nthe misfortune to pray as you do; for I was not then able to know if your\nprayers were good. So, I tell you, I will hold fast to the prayers of the\nFrench. I will keep them until the earth burn up and perish.\u201d\n\nAt last the final and fatal effort on the life of Father R\u00e2le was made,\nin 1724.\n\nAll was quiet in the little village. The tall corn lay yellow in the\nslanting rays of an August sun, when suddenly from the adjacent woods\nburst forth a band of English with their Mohawk allies. The devoted\npriest, knowing that they were in hot pursuit of him, sallied forth to\nmeet them, hoping, by the sacrifice of his own life, to save his flock.\nHardly had he reached the mission cross in the centre of the village than\nhe fell at its foot, pierced by a dozen bullets. Seven Indians, who had\nsought to shield him with their bodies, lay dead beside him.\n\nThen followed a scene that beggars description. Women and children were\nkilled indiscriminately; and it ill became those who shot women as they\nswam across the river to bring a charge of cruelty against the French\nfathers.\n\nThe chapel was robbed and then fired; the bell was not melted, but was\nprobably afterward buried by the Indians, for it was revealed only a few\nyears since by the blowing down of a huge oak-tree, and was presented to\nBowdoin College.\n\nThe soft, dewy night closed on the scene of devastation, and in the\nmorning, as one by one the survivors crept back to their ruined homes\nwith their hearts full of consternation and sorrow, they found the body\nof their beloved priest, not only pierced by a hundred balls, but with\nthe skull crushed by hatchets, arms and legs broken, and mouth and eyes\nfilled with dirt. They buried him where the day before had stood the\naltar of the little chapel, and sent his tattered habits to Quebec.\n\nIt was by so precious a death that this apostolical man closed a career\nof nearly forty years of painful missionary toil. His fasts and vigils\nhad greatly enfeebled his constitution, and, when entreated to take\nprecautions for his safety, he answered: \u201cMy measures are taken. God has\ncommitted this flock to my charge, and I will share their fate, being too\nhappy if permitted to sacrifice myself for them.\u201d\n\nWell did his superior in Canada, M. de Bellemont, reply, when requested\nto offer Masses for his soul: \u201cIn the words of S. Augustine, I say it\nwould be wronging a martyr to pray for him.\u201d\n\nThere can be no question that Sebastian R\u00e2le was one of the most\nremarkable men of his day. A devoted Christian and finished scholar,\ncommanding in manners and elegant in address, of persuasive eloquence and\ngreat administrative ability, he courted death and starvation, for the\nsole end of salvation for the Indian.\n\nFrom the death of Father R\u00e2le until 1730 the mission at Norridgewock\nwas without a priest. In that year, however, the superior at Quebec\nsent Father James de Sirenne to that station. The account given by this\nfather, of the warmth with which he was received, and of the manner in\nwhich the Indians had sought to keep their faith, is very touching. The\nwomen with tears and sobs hastened with their unbaptized babes to the\npriest.\n\nIn all these years no Protestant clergyman had visited them, for Eliot\nwas almost the only one who devoted himself to the conversion of the\nIndians, though even he, as affirmed by Bancroft, had never approached\nthe Indian tribe that dwelt within six miles of Boston Harbor until five\nyears after the cross had been borne, by the religious zeal of the\nFrench, from Lake Superior to the valley of the Mississippi.\n\nBut Father Sirenne could not be permitted to remain any length of time\nwith the Abnakis. Again were they deserted, having a priest with them\nonly at long intervals.\n\nThen came the peace of 1763, in which France surrendered Canada. This\nstep struck a most terrible blow at the missions; for although the\nEnglish government guaranteed to the Canadians absolute religious\nfreedom, they yet took quiet steps to rid themselves of the Jesuit\nFathers.\n\nA short breathing space, and another war swept over the land, and with\nthis perished the last mission in Maine. In 1775 deputies from the\nvarious tribes in Maine and Nova Scotia met the Massachusetts council.\nThe Indians announced their intention of adhering to the Americans, but\nbegged, at the same time, for a French priest. The council expressed\ntheir regret at not being able to find one.\n\n\u201cStrange indeed was it,\u201d says Shea, \u201cthat the very body which, less than\na century before, had made it felony for a Catholic priest to visit the\nAbnakis, now regretted their inability to send these Christian Indians a\nmissionary of the same faith and nation.\u201d\n\nYears after, when peace was declared, and the few Catholics in Maryland\nhad chosen the Rev. John Carroll--a member of the proscribed Society of\nJesus--as bishop, the Abnakis of Maine sent a deputation bearing the\ncrucifix of Father R\u00e2le. This they presented to the bishop, with earnest\nsupplications for a priest.\n\nBishop Carroll promised that one should be sent, and Father Ciquard\nwas speedily despatched to Norridgewock, where he remained for ten\nyears. Then ensued another interval during which the flock was without a\nshepherd.\n\nAt last a missionary priest at Boston, Father (afterward Cardinal)\nCheverus, turned his attention to the study of the Abnaki dialect, and\nthen visited the Penobscot tribe.\n\nDesolate, poor, and forsaken as they had been, the Indians still clung\nto their faith. The old taught the young, and all gathered on Sundays to\nchant the music of the Mass and Vespers, though their altar had no priest\nand no sacrifice.\n\nFather Cheverus, after a few months, was succeeded by Father Romagn\u00e9,\nwho for twenty years consecrated every moment and every thought to the\nevangelization of the Penobscot and Passamaquoddy tribes. In July, 1827,\nBishop Fenwick visited this portion of his diocese, and in 1831 sent them\na resident missionary. A beautiful church stood at last in the place of\nRomagn\u00e9\u2019s hut, and two years later Bishop Fenwick, once a father in the\nSociety of Jesus, erected a monument to Father R\u00e2le on the spot where he\nwas slain a hundred and nine years before. From far and near gathered\nthe crowd, Protestant as well as Catholic, to witness the ceremony. The\nmonument stands in a green, secluded spot, a simple shaft of granite\nsurmounted by a cross, and an inscription in Latin tells the traveller\nthat there died a faithful priest and servant of the Lord. Bishop Fenwick\nbecame extremely anxious to induce some French priest to go to that\nancient mission, and a year later the Society of Picpus, in Switzerland,\nsent out Fathers Demilier and Petithomme to restore the Franciscan\nmissions in Maine. They conquered the difficulties of the Abnaki dialect\nwith the aid of a prayer-book which the bishop had caused to be printed,\nand in this small and insignificant mission Father Demilier toiled until\nhis death, in 1843.\n\nThe successor of Bishop Fenwick resolved to restore the Abnaki mission\nto the Fathers of the Society of Jesus, by whom it had been originally\nfounded. Therefore, since 1848, the Penobscots and Passamaquoddys have\nbeen under the care of the Jesuits, who in that year sent out from\nSwitzerland Father John Bapst to Old Town, on the Penobscot--a short\ndistance from Bangor--where he ministered faithfully to the Abnakis until\nhe nearly lost his life in a disgraceful Know-Nothing riot in 1854.\n\nAs we find ourselves thus at the conclusion of our narration, incidents\ncrowd upon our memory of the wondrous sacrifices made by the Catholic\nclergy in the old missions of Maine; but we are admonished that our space\nis limited.\n\nLittle attention, however, has been paid to the fact that to these\nCatholic priests alone under God is due the evangelization of the many\nIndian tribes which formerly haunted our grand old forests. Of these\ntribes, only a few of the Penobscots are left, and these cling still to\nthe cross as the blessed symbol of the faith first brought to them, \u201cas\na voice crying in the wilderness,\u201d by Fathers Biard and Du Thet at St.\nSauveur in 1613.\n\n\nPRUSSIA AND THE CHURCH.\n\nThe first attempts to introduce the Christian religion into Prussia\nwere unsuccessful. S. Adalbert, in 997, and S. Bruno, in 1009, suffered\nmartyrdom whilst preaching the Gospel there, and the efforts of Poland\nto force the conquered Prussians to receive the faith only increased\nthe bitterness of their anti-Christian prejudices. Early in the XIIth\ncentury Bishop Otto, of Bamberg, made many conversions in Pomerania; and\nfinally, in the beginning of the XIIIth, the Cistercian monk Christian,\nwith the approval and encouragement of Pope Innocent III., set to work\nto convert the Prussians, and met with such success that in 1215 he was\nmade bishop of the country. The greater part of the people, however,\nstill remained heathens, and the progress of Christianity aroused in\nthem such indignation that they determined to oppose its farther advance\nwith the sword. To protect his flock Bishop Christian called to his aid\nthe knights of the Teutonic Order; in furtherance of his designs, the\nEmperor Frederic II. turned the whole country over to them, and Pope\nGregory IX. took measures to increase their number, so that they might be\nable to hold possession of this field, now first opened to the Gospel.\nPope Innocent IV. also manifested special interest in the welfare of the\nchurch in Prussia; he urged priests and monks to devote themselves to\nthis mission, supported and encouraged the bishops in their trials and\ndifficulties, and exhorted the convents throughout Germany to contribute\nbooks for the education of the people. But circumstances were not wanting\nwhich made the position of the church in Prussia very unsatisfactory. The\npeople had for the most part been brought under the church\u2019s influence by\nthe power of arms, and consequently to a great extent remained strangers\nto her true spirit. The Teutonic Order, moreover, gave ecclesiastical\npositions only to German priests, so as to hold out inducements to the\npeople to learn German; though, as a consequence, the priests were unable\nto communicate with their flocks, except by the aid of interpreters.\n\nThe grand master, too, had almost unlimited control over the election\nof bishops, which was the cause of many evils, especially as the Order\ngradually grew lax in the observance of the rule, and lost much of\nits Christian character. Unworthy men were thrust into ecclesiastical\noffices, the standard of morality among the clergy was lowered, and the\npeople lost respect for the priesthood. It is not surprising, in view of\nall this, that the religious sectaries of the XIIIth and XIVth centuries\nshould have found favor in Prussia, and made converts among her still\nhalf-pagan populations.\n\nIn 1466 the Teutonic Order became a dependency of the crown of Poland.\nThere was no hope of its freeing itself from this humiliating subjection\nwithout foreign aid; and with a view to obtain this, the knights resolved\nto choose their grand master from one or other of the most powerful\nGerman families. First, in 1498, they elected Frederic, Duke of Saxony;\nand upon his death, in 1510, Albrecht, Margrave of Brandenburg, was\nchosen to succeed him.\n\nAlbrecht refused the oath of supremacy to Sigismund, King of Poland, who\nthereupon, in 1519, declared war upon him.\n\nTo meet the expenses of the war, Albrecht had the sacred vessels of\nthe church melted down and minted; but he was unable to stand against\nthe arms of Poland, and therefore sought the mediation of the Emperor\nof Germany, through whose good offices he was able to conclude, in\n1521, a four years\u2019 truce. He now went into Germany, where Luther was\nalready preaching the Protestant rebellion, and asked aid from the\nImperial Parliament, which was holding its sessions at Nuremberg; and\nas this was denied him, he turned with favor to the teachers of the new\ndoctrines. The Teutonic Order had become thoroughly corrupt, and Leo X.\nurged Albrecht to begin a reformation _in capite et membris_; but the\ngrand master sought the advice of Luther, from whom he received the not\nunwelcome counsel to throw away the \u201cstupid, unnatural rule of his Order,\ntake a wife, and turn Prussia into a temporal hereditary principality.\u201d\nAlbrecht accordingly asked for preachers of the new doctrines, and in\n1526 announced his abandonment of the Order and the Catholic Church by\nhis marriage with the daughter of the King of Denmark. Acting upon the\nProtestant principle, _cujus regio illius religio_--the ruler of the land\nmakes its religion--he forced the Prussians to quit the church from which\nthey had received whatever culture and civilization they had.\n\nAt his death, in 1568, Lutheranism had gained complete possession of the\ncountry.\n\nA few Catholics, however, remained, for whom, early in the XVIIth\ncentury, King Sigismund of Poland succeeded in obtaining liberty of\nconscience, which, however, was denied to those of Brandenburg Frederic\nWilliam, the second king of Prussia, and the first to form the design\nof placing her among the great powers of Europe by the aid of a strong\nmilitary organization, in giving directions in 1718 for the education of\nhis son, afterwards Frederic the Great, insisted that the boy should be\ninspired with a horror of the Catholic Church, \u201cthe groundlessness and\nabsurdity of whose teachings should be placed before his eyes and well\nimpressed upon his mind.\u201d\n\nFrederic William was a rigid Calvinist; and if he tolerated a few\nCatholics in his dominions, it was only that he might vent his ill-humor\nor exercise his proselytizing zeal upon them. He indeed granted Father\nRaymundus Bruns permission to say Mass in the garrisons at Berlin and\nPotsdam, but only after he had been assured that it would tend to prevent\ndesertions among his Catholic soldiers, and that, as Raymundus was a\nmonk, bound by a vow of poverty, he would ask no pay from his majesty.\n\nIn 1746 permission was granted the Catholics to hold public worship in\nBerlin, and the S. Hedwig\u2019s church was built; in Pomerania, however, this\nprivilege was denied them, except in the Polish districts.\n\nDuring the XVIIIth century congregations were formed at Stettin and\nStralsund. In the principality of Halberstadt the Catholics were allowed\nto retain possession of a church and several monasteries, in which\npublic worship was permitted; and in what had been the archbishopric of\nMagdeburg there were left to them one Benedictine monastery and four\nconvents of Cistercian Nuns. These latter, however, were placed under the\nsupervision of Protestant ministers.\n\nFrederic the Great early in life fell under the influence of Voltaire\nand his disciples, from whom he learned to despise all religion, and\nespecially the rigid Calvinism of his father. He became a religious\nsceptic, and, satisfied with his contempt for all forms of faith, did\nnot take the trouble to persecute any. He asked of his subjects, whether\nProtestant or Catholic, nothing but money and recruits; for the rest,\nhe allowed every one in his dominions \u201cto save his soul after his own\nfashion.\u201d He provided chaplains for his Catholic soldiers, and forbade\nthe Calvinist and Lutheran ministers to interfere with their religious\nfreedom, for reasons similar to those which had induced his father to\npermit Raymundus Bruns to say Mass in the garrison at Berlin. He had\ncertainly no thought of showing any favor to the church, except so far as\nit might promote his own ambitious projects. His great need of soldiers\nmade him throw every obstacle in the way of those who wished to enter\nthe priesthood, and his fear of foreign influence caused him to forbid\npriests to leave the country. His mistrust of priests was so great that\nhe gave instructions to Count Hoym, his Minister of State, to place them\nunder a system of espionage. Catholics were carefully excluded from all\ninfluential and lucrative positions. They were taxed more heavily than\nProtestants, and professors in the universities were required to take an\noath to uphold the Reformation.\n\nNotwithstanding, it was in the reign of Frederic the Great that the\nCatholic Church in Prussia may be said to have entered upon a new life.\nFor more than two hundred years it had had no recognized status there;\nbut through the conquest of Silesia and the division of Poland, a large\nCatholic population was incorporated into the kingdom of Prussia, and\nthus a new element, which was formally recognized in the constitution\npromulgated by Frederic\u2019s immediate successor, was introduced into the\nPrussian state. Together with the toleration of all who believed in God\nand were loyal to the king, the law of the land placed the Catholic and\nProtestant churches on an equal footing. To understand how far this was\nfavorable to the church we must go back and consider the relations of\nPrussia to Protestantism.\n\nWhat is known as the Territorial System, by which the faith of the\npeople is delivered into the hands of the temporal ruler, has existed in\nPrussia from the time Albrecht of Brandenburg went over to the Reformers.\nProtestantism and absolutism triumphed simultaneously throughout Europe,\nand this must undoubtedly be in a great measure attributed to the fact\nthat the Protestants, whether willingly or not, yielded up their faith\ninto the keeping of kings and princes, and thus practically abandoned\nthe distinction of the spiritual and temporal powers which lies at the\nfoundation of Christian civilization, and is also the strongest bulwark\nagainst the encroachments of governments upon the rights of citizens.\nDuke Albrecht had hardly become a Protestant when he felt that it was\nhis duty (\u201c_coacti sumus_\u201d are his words) to take upon himself the\nepiscopal office. This was in 1530; in 1550 he treated the urgent request\nof the Assembly to have the bishopric of Samland restored as an attack\nupon his princely prerogative.\n\nHis successor diverted to other uses the fund destined for the\nmaintenance of the bishops, and instituted two consistories, to which he\nentrusted the ecclesiastical affairs of the duchy.\n\nDuring the XVIIth century Calvinism gained a firm foothold in Prussia. It\nbecame the religion of the ruling family, and Frederic William, called\nthe Great Elector, to whose policy his successors have agreed to ascribe\ntheir greatness, sought in every way to promote its interests, though he\nstrenuously exercised his _jus episcopale_, his spiritual supremacy over\nboth the Lutherans and the Calvinists.\n\nHis son, Frederic, who first took the title of King of Prussia (1700),\ncontinued the policy of his father with regard to ecclesiastical affairs.\n\u201cTo us alone,\u201d he declared to the Landstand, \u201cbelongs the _jus supremum\nepiscopale_, the highest and sovereign right in ecclesiastical matters.\u201d\n\nThe Lutherans wished to retain the exorcism as a part of the ceremony\nof baptism; but Frederic published an edict by which he forbade the\nappointment of any minister who would refuse to confer the sacrament\nwithout making use of this ceremony. In the same way he meddled with the\nLutheran practice of auricular confession; and by an order issued in 1703\nprohibited the publication of theological writings which had not received\nhis imprimatur.\n\nHis successor, Frederic William, the father of Frederic the Great,\nlooked upon himself as the absolute and irresponsible master of the\nsubjects whom God had given him. \u201cI am king and master,\u201d he was wont\nto say, \u201cand can do what I please.\u201d He was a rigid Calvinist, and made\nhis absolutism felt more especially in religious matters. It seems that\npreachers then, as since, were sometimes in the habit of preaching long\nsermons; so King Frederic William put a fine of two thalers upon any one\nwho should preach longer than one hour. He required his preachers to\ninsist in _all their sermons_ upon the duty of obedience and loyalty to\nthe king, and the government officials were charged to report any failure\nto make special mention of this duty. Both Lutherans and Calvinists were\nforbidden to touch in their sermons upon any points controverted between\nthe two confessions. No detail of religious worship was insignificant\nenough to escape his meddlesome tyranny. The length of the service, the\naltar, the vestments of the minister, the sign of the cross, the giving\nor singing the blessing, all fell under his \u201chigh episcopal supervision.\u201d\n\nThis unlovely old king was followed by Frederic the Great, who, though\nan infidel and a scoffer, held as firmly as his father to his sovereign\nepiscopal prerogatives, and who, if less meddlesome, was not less\narbitrary. And now we have got back to the constitution which, after\nSilesia and a part of Poland had been united to the crown of Prussia,\nwas partially drawn up under Frederic the Great, and completed and\npromulgated during the reign of his successor; and which, as we have\nalready said, placed the three principal confessions of the Christian\nfaith in the Prussian states--viz., the Lutheran, the Reformed, and\nthe Catholic--on a footing of equality before the law. Now, it must be\nnoticed, this constitution left intact the absolute authority of the king\nover the Reformed and Lutheran churches, and therefore what might seem\nto be a great gain for the Catholic Church was really none at all, since\nit was simply placed under the supreme jurisdiction of the king. There\nwas no express recognition of the organic union of the church in Prussia\nwith the pope, nor of the right of the bishops to govern their dioceses\naccording to the ecclesiastical canons, but rather the tacit assumption\nthat the king was head of the Catholic as of the Protestant churches in\nPrussia. The constitution was drawn up by Suarez, a bitter enemy of the\nchurch, and in many of its details was characterized by an anti-Catholic\nspirit. It annulled, for instance, the contract made by parents of\ndifferent faith concerning the religious education of their children,\nand manifested in many other ways that petty and tyrannical spirit which\nhas led Prussia to interfere habitually with the internal discipline and\nworking of the church.\n\nAs the Catholic population of Prussia increased through the annexation\nof different German states, this constitution, which gave the king\nsupreme control of spiritual matters, was extended to the newly-acquired\nterritories. Thus all through the XVIIIth century the church in Prussia,\nthough not openly persecuted, was fettered. No progress was made, abuses\ncould not be reformed, the appointment of bishops was not free, the\ntraining of the priesthood was very imperfect; and it is not surprising\nthat this slavery should have been productive of many and serious evils.\n\nThe French Revolution and the wars of Napoleon, which caused social and\npolitical upheavals throughout Europe, toppled down thrones, overthrew\nempires, and broke up and reformed the boundaries of nations, mark a new\nepoch in the history of Prussia, and indeed of all Germany, whose people\nhad been taught by these disastrous wars that they had common interests\nwhich could not be protected without national unity, the want of which\nhad never before been made so painfully manifest.\n\nAfter the downfall of Napoleon, the ambassadors of the Allied Powers met\nin Vienna to settle the affairs of all Europe. Nations, provinces, and\ncities were given away in the most reckless manner, without any thought\nof the interests or wishes of the people, to the kings and rulers who\ncould command the greatest influence in the congress or whose displeasure\nwas most feared. Germany demanded the restoration of Alsace and Lorraine,\nbut was thwarted in her designs by Great Britain and Russia, who feared\nthe restoration of her ancient power.\n\nPrussia received from the congress, as some compensation for its\nsufferings and sacrifices during the Napoleonic wars, the duchies\nof J\u00fclich and Berg, the former possessions of the episcopal sees of\nCologne and Treves, and several other territories, which were formed\ninto the Rhine province. On the other hand, it lost a portion of the\nSclavonic population which it had held on the east; so that, though it\ngained nothing in territory, it became more strictly a German state,\nand was consequently better fitted gradually to take the lead in the\nirrepressible movement toward the unification of Germany.\n\nIn the Congress of Vienna it was stipulated that Catholics and\nProtestants should have equal rights before the law. The constitutional\nlaw of Prussia was extended to the newly-acquired provinces and \u201call\necclesiastical matters, whether of Roman Catholics or of Protestants,\ntogether with the supervision and administration of all charitable funds,\nthe confirming of all persons appointed to spiritual offices, and the\nsupervision over the administration of ecclesiastics as far as it may\nhave any relation to civil affairs, were reserved to the government.\u201d\n\nIn 1817, upon the occasion of the reorganization of the government,\nwe perceive to what practical purposes these principles were to be\napplied. The church was debased to a function of the state, her interests\nwere placed in the hands of the ministry for spiritual affairs, and\nthe education of even clerical students was put under the control of\ngovernment.\n\nIt was in this same year, 1817, that the tercentennial anniversary of\nthe birth of Protestantism was celebrated. For two centuries Protestant\nfaith in Germany had been dying out. Eager and bitter controversies,\nthe religious wars and the plunder of church property during the XVIth\nand early part of the XVIIth centuries, had given it an unnatural and\nartificial vigor. It was a mighty and radical revolution, social,\npolitical, and religious, and therefore gave birth to fanaticism and\nintense partisan zeal, and was in turn helped on by them.\n\nThere is a natural strength in a new faith, and when it is tried by\nwar and persecution it seems to rise to a divine power. Protestantism\nburst upon Europe with irresistible force. Fifty years had not passed\nsince Luther had burned the bull of Pope Leo, and the Catholic Church,\nbeaten almost everywhere in the North of Europe, seemed hardly able to\nhold her own on the shores of the Mediterranean; fifty years later, and\nProtestantism was saved in Germany itself only by the arms of Catholic\nFrance. The peace of Westphalia, in 1648, put an end to the religious\nwars of Germany, and from that date the decay of the Protestant faith was\nrapid. Many causes helped on the work of ruin; the inherent weakness of\nthe Protestant system from its purely negative character, the growing and\nbitter dissensions among Protestants, the hopeless slavery to which the\nsects had been reduced by the civil power, all tended to undermine faith.\nIn the Palatinate, within a period of sixty years, the rulers had forced\nthe people to change their religion four times. In Prussia, whose king,\nas we have seen, was supreme head of the church, the ruling house till\n1539 was Catholic; then, till 1613, Lutheran; from that date to 1740,\nCalvinistic; from 1740 to 1786, infidel, the avowed ally of Voltaire and\nD\u2019Alembert; then, till 1817, Calvinistic; and finally again evangelical.\n\nDuring the long reign of Frederic the Great unbelief made steady\nprogress. Men no longer attacked this or that article of faith, but\nChristianity itself. The quickest way, it was openly said by many, to\nget rid of superstition and priest-craft, would be to abolish preaching\naltogether, and thus remove the ghost of religion from the eyes of the\npeople. It seems strange that such license of thought and expression\nshould have been tolerated, and even encouraged, in a country where\nreligion itself has never been free; but it is a peculiarity of the\nPrussian system of government that while it hampers and fetters the\nchurch and all religious organizations, it leaves the widest liberty\nof conscience to the individual. Its policy appears to be to foster\nindifference and infidelity, in order to use them against what it\nconsiders religious fanaticism. Another circumstance which favored\ninfidelity may be found in the political thraldom in which Prussia\nheld her people. As men were forbidden to speak or write on subjects\nrelating to the government or the public welfare, they took refuge in\ntheological and philosophical discussions, which in Protestant lands\nhave never failed to lead to unbelief. This same state of things tended\nto promote the introduction and increase of secret societies, which,\nin the latter half of the XVIIIth century, sprang up in great numbers\nthroughout Germany, bearing a hundred different names, but always having\nanti-Christian tendencies.\n\nTo stop the spread of infidelity, Frederic William II., the successor\nof Frederic the Great, issued, in 1788, an \u201cedict, embracing the\nconstitution of religion in the Prussian states.\u201d The king declared\nthat he could no longer suffer in his dominions that men should openly\nseek to undermine religion, to make the Bible ridiculous in the eyes\nof the people, and to raise in public the banner of unbelief, deism,\nand naturalism. He would in future permit no farther change in the\ncreed, whether of the Lutheran or the Reformed Church. This was the\nmore necessary as he had himself noticed with sorrow, years before he\nascended the throne, that the Protestant ministers allowed themselves\nboundless license with regard to the articles of faith, and indeed\naltogether rejected several essential parts and fundamental verities of\nthe Protestant Church and the Christian religion. They blushed not to\nrevive the long-since-refuted errors of the Socinians, the deists, and\nthe naturalists, and to scatter them among the people under the false\nname of enlightenment (_Aufkl\u00e4rung_), whilst they treated God\u2019s Word with\ndisdain, and strove to throw suspicion upon the mysteries of revelation.\nSince this was intolerable, he, therefore, as ruler of the land and\nonly law-giver in his states, commanded and ordered that in future no\nclergyman, preacher, or school-teacher of the Protestant religion should\npresume, under pain of perpetual loss of office and of even severer\npunishment, to disseminate the errors already named; for, as it was his\nduty to preserve intact the law of the land, so was it incumbent upon him\nto see that religion should be kept free from taint; and he could not,\nconsequently, allow its ministers to substitute their whims and fancies\nfor the truths of Christianity. They must teach what had been agreed upon\nin the symbols of faith of the denomination to which they belonged; to\nthis they were bound by their office and the contract under which they\nhad received their positions. Nevertheless, out of his great love for\nfreedom of conscience, the king was willing that those who were known to\ndisbelieve in the articles of faith might retain their offices, provided\nthey consented to teach their flocks what they were themselves unable to\nbelieve.\n\nIn this royal edict we have at once the fullest confession of the\ngeneral unbelief that was destroying Protestantism in Prussia, and of\nthe hopelessness of any attempt to arrest its progress. What could be\nmore pitiable than the condition of a church powerless to control its\nministers, and publicly recognizing their right to be hypocrites? How\ncould men who had no faith teach others to believe? Moreover, what could\nbe more absurd, from a Protestant point of view, than to seek to force\nthe acceptance of symbols of faith when the whole Reformation rested upon\nthe assumed right of the individual to decide for himself what should or\nshould not be believed? Or was it to be supposed that men could invest\nthe conflicting creeds of the sects with a sacredness which they had\ndenied to that of the universal church? It is not surprising, therefore,\nthat the only effect of the edict should have been to increase the energy\nand activity of the infidels and free-thinkers.\n\nFrederic William III., who ascended the throne in 1797, recognizing the\nfutility of his father\u2019s attempt to keep alive faith in Protestantism,\nstopped the enforcement of the edict, with the express declaration that\nits effect had been to lessen religion and increase hypocrisy. Abandoning\nall hope of controlling the faith of the preachers, he turned his\nattention to their morals. A decree of the Oberconsistorium of Berlin, in\n1798, ordered that the conduct of the ministers should be closely watched\nand every means employed to stop the daily-increasing immorality of the\nservants of the church, which was having the most injurious effects upon\ntheir congregations. Parents had almost ceased having their children\nbaptized, or had them christened in the \u201cname of Frederic the Great,\u201d or\nin the \u201cname of the good and the fair,\u201d sometimes with rose-water.\n\nBut the calamities which befell Germany during the wars of the French\nRevolution and the empire seemed to have turned the thoughts of many\nto religion. The frightful humiliations of the fatherland were looked\nupon as a visitation from heaven upon the people for their sins\nand unbelief; and therefore, when the tercentennial anniversary of\nProtestantism came around (in 1817), they were prepared to enter upon\nits celebration with earnest enthusiasm. The celebration took the form\nof an anti-Catholic demonstration. For many years controversy between\nProtestants and Catholics had ceased; but now a wholly unprovoked but\nbitter and grossly insulting attack was made upon the church from all\nthe Protestant pulpits of Germany and in numberless writings. The result\nof this wanton aggression was a reawakening of Catholic faith and life;\nwhilst the attempt to take advantage of the Protestant enthusiasm to\nbring about a union between the Lutheran and Reformed churches in Prussia\nended in causing fresh dissensions and divisions. The sect of the Old\nLutherans was formed, which, in spite of persecution, finally succeeded\nin obtaining toleration, though not till many of its adherents had been\ndriven across the ocean into exile.\n\nAs the Congress of Vienna had decided that Catholics and Protestants\nshould be placed upon a footing of equality, and as Prussia had received\na large portion of the _secularized_ lands of the church, with the\nstipulation that she should provide for the maintenance of Catholic\nworship, the government, in 1816, sent Niebuhr, the historian, to Rome,\nto treat with the Pope concerning the reorganization of the Catholic\nreligion in the Prussian states. Finally, in 1821, an agreement was\nsigned, which received the sanction of the king, and was published as a\nfundamental law of the state.\n\nIn this Concordat with the Holy See there is at least a tacit recognition\nof the true nature of the church, of her organic unity--a beginning of\nrespect for her freedom, and a seeming promise of a better future. In\npoint of fact, however, in spite of Niebuhr\u2019s assurance to the Holy\nFather that he might rely upon the honest intentions of the government,\nPrussia began almost at once to meddle with the rights of Catholics.\nA silent and slow persecution was inaugurated, by which it was hoped\ntheir patience would be exhausted and their strength wasted. And now we\nshall examine more closely the artful and heartless policy by which,\nwith but slight variations, for more than two centuries Prussia has\nsought to undermine the Catholic religion. In 1827 the Protestants of\nall communions in Prussia amounted to 6,370,380, and the Catholics\nto 4,023,513. These populations are, to only a very limited extent,\nintermingled; certain provinces being almost entirely Catholic, and\nothers nearly wholly Protestant. By law the same rights are granted to\nboth Catholics and Protestants; and both, therefore, should receive like\ntreatment at the hands of the government.\n\nThis is the theory; what are the facts? We will take the religious policy\nof Prussia from the reorganization of the church after the Congress of\nVienna down to the revolution of 1848, and we will begin with the subject\nof education. For the six millions of Protestants there were four\nexclusively Protestant universities, at Berlin, Halle, K\u00f6nigsberg, and\nGreifswalde; for the four millions of Catholics there were but two _half\nuniversities_, at Bonn and Breslau, in each of which there was a double\nfaculty, the one Protestant, the other Catholic; though the professors\nin all the faculties, except that of theology, were for the most part\nProtestants. Thus, out of six universities, to the Catholics was left\nonly a little corner in two, though they were forced to bear nearly\none-half of the public burdens by which all six were supported. But this\nis not the worst. The bishops had no voice in the nomination of the\nprofessors, not even those of theology. They were simply asked whether\nthey had any objections to make, _on proof_. The candidate might be a\nstranger, he might be wholly unfitted to teach theology, he might be free\nfrom open immorality or heresy; and therefore, because the bishops could\n_prove_ nothing against him, he was appointed to instruct the aspirants\nto the priesthood.\n\nAt Breslau a foreign professor was appointed, who began to teach the\nmost scandalous and heretical doctrines. Complaints were useless. During\nmany years his pupils drank in the poison, and at length, after he had\ndone his work of destruction, he was, as in mockery, removed. Nor is\nthis an isolated instance of the ruin to Catholic faith wrought by this\nsystem. The bishops had hardly any influence over the education of their\nclergy, who, young and ignorant of the world, were thrown almost without\nrestraint into the pagan corruptions of a German university, in order to\nacquire a knowledge of theology. At Cologne a Catholic college was made\nover to the Protestants, at Erfurt and D\u00fcsseldorf Catholic _gymnasia_\nwere turned into mixed establishments with all the professors, save one,\nProtestants.\n\nElementary education was under the control of provincial boards\nconsisting of a Protestant president and three councillors, _one_ of whom\nmight be a Catholic in Catholic districts. In the Catholic provinces\nof the Rhine and Westphalia, the place of Catholic councillor was left\nvacant for several years till the schools were all reorganized. Indeed,\nthe real superintendent of Catholic elementary education was generally a\nProtestant minister.\n\nThere was a government _Censur_ for books of religious instruction, the\nheadquarters of which were in Berlin, but its agents were scattered\nthroughout all the provinces. All who were employed in this department,\nto which even the pastorals of the bishops had to be submitted before\nbeing read to their flocks, were Protestants. The widest liberty was\ngiven to Protestants to attack the church; but when the Catholics\nsought to defend themselves, their writings were suppressed. Professor\nFreudenfeld was obliged to quit Bonn because he had spoken of Luther\nwithout becoming respect.\n\nPermission to start religious journals was denied to Catholics, but\ngranted to Protestants; and in the pulpit the priests were put under\nstrict restraint, while the preachers were given full liberty of speech.\nWhenever a community of Protestants was found in a Catholic district, a\nchurch, a clergyman, and a school were immediately provided for them;\nindeed, richer provision for the Protestant worship was made in the\nCatholic provinces than elsewhere; but when a congregation of Catholics\ngrew up amongst Protestants, the government almost invariably rejected\ntheir application for permission to have a place of worship. At various\ntimes and places churches and schools were taken from the Catholics\nand turned over to the Protestants; and though Prussia had received an\nenormous amount of the confiscated property of the church, she did not\nprovide for the support of the priests as for that of the ministers.\n\nAt court there was not a single Catholic who held office; the heads of\nall the departments of government were Protestants; the Post-Office\ndepartment, down to the local postmasters, was exclusively Protestant;\nall ambassadors and other representatives of the government, though sent\nto Catholic courts, were Protestants.\n\nIn Prussia the state is divided into provinces, and at the head of each\nprovince is a high-president (Ober-Pr\u00e4sident). This official, to whom\nthe religious interests of the Catholics were committed, was always a\nProtestant. The provinces are divided into districts, and at the head of\neach district was a Protestant president, and almost all the inferior\nofficers, even in Catholic provinces, were Protestants.\n\nAgain, in the courts of justice and in the army all the principal\npositions were given to Protestants. In the two _corps d\u2019arm\u00e9es_ of\nPrussia and Silesia, one-half was Catholic; in the army division of\nPosen, two-thirds; in that of Westphalia and Cleves, three-fifths; and,\nfinally, in that of the Rhine, seven-eighths; yet there was not one\nCatholic field-officer, not a general or major. In 1832 a royal order was\nissued to provide for the religious wants of the army, and every care\nwas taken for the spiritual needs of the Protestant soldiers; but not\neven one Catholic chaplain was appointed. All persons in active service,\nfrom superior officers down to private soldiers, were declared to be\nmembers of the military parish, and were placed under the authority of\nthe Protestant chaplains. If a Catholic soldier wished to get married\nor to have his child baptized by a priest, he had first to obtain the\npermission of his Protestant curate. What was still more intolerable, the\nlaw regulating military worship was so contrived as to force the Catholic\nsoldiers to be present at Protestant service.\n\nLet us now turn to the relations of the church in Prussia with the Holy\nSee. All direct communications between the Catholics and the Pope were\nexpressly forbidden. Whenever the bishops wished to consult the Holy\nFather concerning the administration of their dioceses, their inquiries\nhad to pass through the hands of the Protestant ministry, to be forwarded\nor not at its discretion, and the answer of the Pope had to pass through\nthe same channel. It was not safe to write; for the government had no\nrespect for the mails, and letters were habitually opened by order of\nVon Nagler, the postmaster-general, who boasted that he had never had\nany idiotic scruples about such matters; that Prince Constantine was his\nmodel, who had once entertained him with narrating how he had managed\nto get the choicest selection of intercepted letters in existence; he\nhad had them bound in morocco, and they formed thirty-three volumes of\nthe most interesting reading in his private library. Thus the church\nwas ruled by a system of espionage and bureaucracy which hesitated not\nto violate all the sanctities of life to accomplish its ends. The\nbishops were reduced to a state of abject dependence; not being allowed\nto publish any new regulation or to make any appointment without the\npermission and approval of the Protestant high-president, from whom they\nconstantly received the most annoying and vexatious despatches.\n\nThe election of bishops was reduced to a mere form. When a see became\nvacant, the royal commissary visited the chapter and announced the person\nwhom the king had selected to fill the office, declaring at the same time\nthat no other would receive his approval.\n\nThe minutest details of Catholic worship were placed under the\nsupervision and control of Protestant laymen, who had to decide how much\nwine and how many hosts might be used during the year in the different\nchurches.\n\nWe come now to a matter, vexed and often discussed, in which the trials\nof the church in Prussia, prior to the recent persecutions, finally\nculminated; we allude to the subject of marriages between Catholics and\nProtestants.\n\nWhen, in 1803, Prussia got possession of the greater part of her Catholic\nprovinces, the following order was at once issued: \u201cHis majesty enacts\nthat children born in wedlock shall all be educated in the religion of\nthe father, and that, in opposition to this law, neither party shall bind\nthe other.\u201d Apart from the odious meddling of the state with the rights\nof individuals and the agreements of parties so closely and sacredly\nrelated as man and wife, there was in this enactment a special injustice\nto Catholics, from the fact that nearly all the mixed marriages in\nPrussia were contracted by Protestant government officials and Catholic\nwomen of the provinces to which these agents had been sent. As these men\nheld lucrative offices, they found no difficulty in making matrimonial\nalliances; and as the children had to be brought up in the religion of\nthe father, the government was by this means gradually establishing\nProtestant congregations throughout its Catholic provinces. In 1825 this\nlaw was extended to the Rhenish province, and in 1831 a document was\nbrought to light which explained the object of the extension--viz., that\nit might prove an effectual measure against the proselyting system of\nCatholics.\n\nThe condition of the church was indeed deplorable. With the name of\nbeing free, she was, in truth, enslaved; and while the state professed\nto respect her rights, it was using all the power of the most thoroughly\norganized and most heartless system of bureaucracy and espionage to\nweaken and fetter her action, and even to destroy her life. This was the\nstate of affairs when, in the end of 1835, Von Droste Vischering, one of\nthe greatest and noblest men of this century, worthy to be named with\nAthanasius and with Ambrose, was made archbishop of Cologne.\n\nThe Catholic people of Prussia had long since lost all faith in the\ngood intentions of the government, of whose acts and aims they had full\nknowledge; and it was in order to restore confidence that a man so\ntrusted and loved by them as Von Droste Vischering was promoted to the\nsee of Cologne. The doctrines of Hermes, professor of theology in the\nUniversity of Bonn, had just been condemned at Rome, but the government\nignored the papal brief, and continued to give its support to the\nHermesians; the archbishop, nevertheless, condemned their writings, and\nespecially their organ, the _Bonner Theologische Zeitschrift_, forbade\nhis students to attend their lectures at the university, and finally\nwithdrew his approbation altogether from the Hermesian professors,\nrefusing to ordain students unless they formally renounced the proscribed\ndoctrines.\n\nBy a ministerial order issued in 1825, priests were forbidden, under\npain of deposition from office, to exact in mixed marriages any\npromise concerning the education of the offspring. A like penalty\nwas threatened for refusing to marry parties who were unwilling to\nmake such promises, or for withholding absolution from those who were\nbringing up their children in the Protestant religion. To avert as far\nas possible any conflict between the church and the government, Pius\nVIII., in 1830, addressed a brief to the bishops of Cologne, Treves,\nM\u00fcnster, and Paderborn, in which he made every allowable concession\nto the authority of the state in the matter of mixed marriages. The\ncourt of Berlin withheld the papal brief, and, taking advantage of the\nyielding disposition of Archbishop Spiegel of Cologne, entered, without\nthe knowledge of the Holy See, into a secret agreement with him, in\nwhich still farther concessions were made, and in violation of Catholic\nprinciple. Von Droste Vischering took as his guide the papal brief,\nand paid no attention to such provisions of the secret agreement as\nconflicted with the instructions of the Holy Father.\n\nThe government took alarm, and offered to let fall the Hermesians, if\nthe archbishop would yield in the affair of mixed marriages; and as\nthis expedient failed, measures of violence were threatened, which were\nsoon carried into effect; for on the evening of the 20th of November,\n1837, the archbishop was secretly arrested and carried off to the\nfortress of Minden, where he was placed in close confinement, all\ncommunication with him being cut off. The next morning the government\nissued a \u201cPublicandum,\u201d in which it entered its accusations against the\narchbishop, in order to justify its arbitrary act and to appease the\nanger of the people. Notwithstanding, a cry of indignation and grief\nwas heard in all the Catholic provinces of Prussia, which was re-echoed\nthroughout Germany and extended to all Europe. Lukewarm Catholics grew\nfervent, and the very Hermesians gathered with their sympathies to uphold\nthe cause of the archbishop.\n\nThe Archbishop of Posen and the Bishops of Paderborn and M\u00fcnster\nannounced their withdrawal from the secret convention, which the Bishop\nof Treves had already done upon his death-bed; and henceforward the\npriests throughout the kingdom held firm to the ecclesiastical law on\nmixed marriages, so that in 1838 Frederic William III. was forced to make\na declaration recognizing the rights for which they contended. But the\nArchbishop of Cologne was still a prisoner in the fortress of Minden.\nEarly, however, in 1839, health began to fail; and as the government\nfeared lest his death in prison might produce unfavorable comment, he\nreceived permission to withdraw to M\u00fcnster. The next year the king died,\nand his successor, Frederic William IV., showed himself ready to settle\nthe dispute amicably, and in other ways to do justice to the Catholics.\nA great victory had been gained--the secret convention was destroyed--a\ncertain liberty of communication with the Pope was granted to the\nbishops. The election of bishops was made comparatively free, the control\nof the schools of theology was restored to them, the Hermesians either\nsubmitted or were removed, and the Catholics of Germany awoke from a\ndeathlike sleep to new and vigorous life.\n\nAn evidence of the awakening of faith was given in the fall of 1844, when\na million and a half of German Catholics went in pilgrimage, with song\nand prayer, to Treves.\n\nNevertheless, many grievances remained unredressed. The _Censur_ was\nstill used against the church; and when the Catholics asked permission\nto publish journals in which they could defend themselves and their\nreligious interests, they were told that such publications were not\nneeded; but when Ronge, the suspended priest, sought to found his sect of\n\u201cGerman Catholics,\u201d he received every encouragement from the government,\nand the earnest support of the officials and nearly the entire press of\nPrussia; though, at this very time, every effort was being made to crush\nthe \u201cOld Lutherans.\u201d\n\nThe government continued to find pretexts for meddling with the affairs\nof the bishops, and the newspapers attacked the church in the most\ninsulting manner, going so far as to demand that the religious exercises\nfor priests should be placed under police supervision. We have now\nreached a memorable epoch in the history of the Catholic Church in\nPrussia--the revolution of 1848, which convulsed Germany to its centre,\nspread dismay among all classes, and filled its cities with riot and\nbloodshed. When order was re-established, the liberties of the church\nwere recognized more fully than they had been for three centuries.\n\n\nGARCIA MORENO.\n\nFROM THE CIVILTA CATTOLICA.\n\n\nI.\n\nThe atrocious assassination of Garcia Moreno, the President of the\nrepublic of Ecuador, has filled the minds of all good people with the\ndeepest grief and horror. The liberals are the only ones who have\nmentioned it in their journals with indifference. One of them headed\nhis announcement of it, \u201cA victim of the Sacred Heart\u201d--alluding,\nwith blasphemous irony, to the act of consecration of his people to\nthe Adorable Heart of our Lord which this truly pious ruler had made.\nBut with the exception of these reprobates--who, hating God, cannot\nlove mankind--no one who has any admiration of moral greatness can\nhelp deploring the death of this extraordinary man--a death the more\ndeplorable on account of its coming, not from a natural cause, but from a\ndetestable conspiracy concocted by the enemies of all that is good, who\nabhorred equally the wisdom of his government and the soundness of his\nfaith. The London _Times_ has a despatch from Paris of October 5 with the\nfollowing communication: \u201cIt appears, from authentic information which we\nhave received, that Garcia Moreno, lately President of the republic of\nEcuador, has been assassinated by a secret society which extends through\nall South America, as well as Europe. The assassin was selected by lot,\nand obtained admission to the palace at Quito. One of his accomplices,\nan official, who was arrested after the murder, was assured by the\npresident of the court-martial, before his trial, that he would be\npardoned if he turned state\u2019s evidence. \u2018Be pardoned?\u2019 said he. \u2018That\nwould be of no use to me; if you pardon me, my comrades will not. I would\nrather be shot than stabbed.\u2019\u201d This decision of the society to kill him\nwas known to Moreno, and he informed the Pope of it in a letter, which we\nwill shortly give.\n\nThis illustrious man had governed the republic of Ecuador for about\nfifteen years--first as dictator, and afterwards, for two consecutive\nterms, as president; and to this office he had just been re-elected for\na third term by an unanimous vote. He had taken charge of the state\nwhen it was in an exceedingly miserable condition, and by his lofty\ngenius, practical tact, and perseverance, but above all by his piety and\nconfidence in God, had completely renovated and restored not only the\nmorals of the people, but also the whole political administration, and\nmade the country a perfect model of a Christian nation. He was intending\nto complete the work which he had begun, and was able to rely confidently\non the co-operation of his people, whose reverence and love for him were\nunbounded. But all this was intolerable to the liberals of our day; they\ncould not bear that in a corner of the New World the problem should be\nsolved, which they are trying to make so perplexing, of harmony between\nthe state and the church; of the combination of temporal prosperity and\nCatholic piety; of obedience to the civil law and perfect submission to\necclesiastical authority. This was an insufferable scandal for modern\nliberalism,[248] especially because such a good example might do much to\nfrustrate the plans of this perverse sect in other countries.\n\nThe Masons, therefore, resolved to murder this man, whom they had found\nto be too brave and determined to be checked in any other way; for\nall the attempts they had made to intimidate him or to diminish his\npopularity had been entirely without effect. Moreno anticipated the blow,\nbut, far from fearing it, was only the more persuaded to persevere in\nhis undertaking, regarding it as the greatest happiness to be able to\ngive his life for so holy a cause. In the last letter which he wrote to\nthe Supreme Pontiff before his assassination are these words: \u201cI implore\nyour apostolic benediction, Most Holy Father, having been re-elected\n(though I did not deserve it) to the office of president of this Catholic\nrepublic for another six years. Although the new term does not begin\ntill the 30th of August, the day on which I take the oath required by\nthe constitution, so that then only shall I need to give your Holiness\nan official notification of my re-election, nevertheless I wish not to\ndelay in informing you of it, in order that I may obtain from Heaven\nthe strength and light which I more than any other one shall need, to\nkeep me a child of our Redeemer and loyal and obedient to his infallible\nVicar. And now that the lodges of neighboring countries, inspired by\nGermany, vomit out against me all sorts of atrocious insults and horrible\ncalumnies, and even secretly lay plans for my assassination, I require\nmore than ever the divine assistance and protection to live and die in\ndefence of our holy religion and of this beloved republic which God has\ngiven me to govern. How fortunate I am, Most Holy Father, to be hated\nand calumniated for the sake of our divine Saviour; and what unspeakable\nhappiness would it be for me if your benediction should obtain for me\nthe grace to shed my blood for him who, though he was God, yet shed his\nown on the cross for us!\u201d This heroic desire of the fervent Christian\nwas granted. He was murdered by the enemies of Christ, in hatred of his\nzeal for the restoration of the Christian state and of his fervent love\nfor the church. He is truly a martyr of Christ. Are not S. Wenceslaus of\nBohemia and S. Canute of Denmark numbered among the holy martyrs, for\nthe same cause? Both of them were killed in the precincts of the temple\nof God; and Moreno was carried back to the church from which he had\nonly just departed, to breathe out his noble soul into the bosom of his\nCreator.\n\n\nII.\n\nThe object of Masonic civilization is society without God. The results\nwhich it has succeeded in achieving, and which it deems of such\nimportance, are the separation of the state from the church, liberty\nof worship, the withdrawal of public charities from religious objects,\nthe exclusion of the clergy from the work of education, the suppression\nof religious orders, the supremacy of the civil law, and the setting\naside of the law of the Gospel. Only by these means, according to the\nMasons, can the happiness of the people, the prosperity of the state,\nand the increase of morality and learning be attained. These are their\nfundamental maxims. Now, the difficulty was that Moreno had practically\nshown, and was continuing to show more completely every day, that the\npeace, prosperity, and greatness of a nation will be in proportion to\nits devotion to God and its obedience to the church; that subjection\nto God and his church, far from diminishing, ensures and increases,\nthe true liberty of man; that the influence of the clergy promotes not\nonly the cause of morality, but also that of letters and science; that\nman\u2019s temporal interests are never better cared for than when they are\nsubordinated to those which are eternal; and that love of country is\nnever so powerful as when it is consecrated by love of the church.\n\nA man of the most distinguished talents, which had been most fully\ncultivated at the University of Paris, Moreno had in his own country\noccupied the most conspicuous positions. He had been a professor of the\nnatural sciences, rector of the university, representative, senator,\ncommander-in-chief of the army, dictator, and president of the republic.\nIn this last office, in which he would probably have been retained by\nthe nation through life, he showed what genius sanctified by religion\ncan accomplish. His first care was to establish peace throughout the\ncountry, without which there can be no civil progress; and he succeeded\nin doing so, not by compromises, as is now the fashion--not by making\na monstrous and abnormal amalgamation of parties and principles--but\nby the consistent and firm assertion of the principles of morality and\njustice, and by the open and unhesitating profession of Catholicity. His\nsuccess was so marked that Ecuador very soon arrived at such a perfect\nstate of tranquillity and concord as to seem a prodigy among the agitated\nand turbulent republics in its neighborhood.\n\nWith the exception of some local and ineffectual attempts at revolution\nduring his first presidency, which were quelled by placing some of the\nsouthern provinces in a state of siege for fifty days, Ecuador was\nundisturbed by sedition during the whole of his long government. This\nwas partly due to the splendor of his private and public virtues, which\ndissipated the clouds of envy and hatred, and gained for him the esteem\neven of his political opponents. He was chaste, magnanimous, just,\nimpartial, and so well known for clearheadedness that the people often\nstopped him on the streets to decide their disputes on the spot, and\naccepted his opinion as final. His disinterestedness seems fabulous when\nwe think of the immoderate cupidity prevailing among modern politicians.\nIn his first six years he would not even draw his salary, being content\nto live on the income of his own moderate fortune. In his second term he\naccepted it, but spent it almost entirely in works of public utility. And\nin such works he employed the whole of his time. When any one endeavored\nto persuade him not to shorten his life by such continual labor, he used\nto say: \u201cIf God wants me to rest, he will send me illness or death.\u201d\n\nOwing to this unwearying assiduity and his ardent love for the good of\nhis people, he was able to undertake and finish an amount of business\nthat would appear incredible, were not the evidence too strong to admit\nof doubt. In No. 1,875 of the _Univers_ there is a catalogue of the\nprincipal enterprises which he carried through in a brief period. They\nare as follows:\n\nA revision of the constitution.\n\nThe paying of the customs to the national treasury, instead of to the\nprovincial ones, as formerly.\n\nNational representation for the country as well as the cities.\n\nThe establishment of a fiscal court, and the organization of the courts\nof justice.\n\nThe foundation of a great polytechnic school, which was partially\nentrusted to the Jesuits.\n\nThe construction and equipment of an astronomical observatory, which\nwas built and directed by the Jesuits. On account of the equatorial\nposition of Quito, Garcia Moreno, who was well versed in the mathematical\nsciences, wished to make this observatory equal to any in the world. He\nbought most of the instruments with his own private funds.\n\nRoads connecting different parts of the country. Garcia Moreno laid out\nand nearly completed five great national roads. The principal one, that\nfrom Guayaquil to Quito, is eighty leagues in length. It is paved, and\nhas one hundred and twenty bridges. It is a solid and stupendous work,\nconstructed in the face of almost insuperable difficulties.\n\nThe establishment of four new dioceses.\n\nA concordat with the Holy See.\n\nThe reformation of the regular clergy; the restoration among them of a\ncommon and monastic life.\n\nThe reconstruction of the army. The army had been a mere horde, without\norganization, discipline, or uniform; the men hardly had shoes. Moreno\norganized them on the French system, clothed, shod, and disciplined them;\nnow they are the model as well as the defence of the people.\n\nThe building of a light-house at Guayaquil. Previously there had been\nnone on the whole coast.\n\nReforms in the collection of the customs. Frauds put an end to, and the\nrevenues trebled.\n\nColleges in all the cities; schools in even the smallest villages--all\nconducted by the Christian Brothers.\n\nSchools for girls; Sisters of Charity, Ladies of the Sacred Heart,\nSisters of the Good Shepherd, of Providence, and Little Sisters of the\nPoor.\n\nPublic hospitals. During his first presidency Moreno turned out the\ndirector of the hospital at Quito, who had refused to receive a poor man\nand was very negligent of his duties, and made himself director in his\nstead. He visited the hospital every day, improved its arrangements, and\nput it in good working order. He performed in it many acts of heroic\ncharity.\n\nThe maintenance and increase of lay congregations and orders. He was an\nactive member of the Congregation of the Poor.\n\nThe establishment of four museums.\n\nThe Catholic Protectory, a vast and magnificent school of arts and\ntrades, on the plan of S. Michele at Rome, and conducted by the Christian\nBrothers.\n\nPostal conventions with various foreign states.\n\nThe embellishment and restoration of the cities. Guayaquil, and\nespecially Quito, seemed as if they had been rebuilt.\n\nAnd he accomplished all this, not only without increasing the taxes, but\neven diminishing some of them. This is the reason why he was so much\nbeloved by the people; why they called him father of his country and\nsaviour of the republic. But it was also this which was his unpardonable\nsin, which had to promptly receive a chastisement which should serve\nas a warning for his successors, that they might not dare to imitate\nhis manner of government. For such a course as his was sure to ruin the\ncredit of Masonry in the popular mind.\n\n\nIII.\n\nMoreno loved his country, and worked so hard for its good, because he was\ntruly and thoroughly religious. Every one who really loves God loves his\nneighbor also; and he who loves God intensely loves his neighbor in the\nsame way, because he sees in him the image of God and the price of his\nblood.\n\nWhen he was a student in Paris he was admired for his piety. In his own\ncountry, amid the continual cares and heavy responsibilities of his\noffice, he always found time to hear Mass every morning and say the\nrosary every night. In his familiar conversation he spoke frequently of\nGod, of religion, of virtue, and with such fervor that all who heard\nfelt their hearts touched and moved by his words. Before beginning the\nbusiness of the day, he always made a visit to the church to implore\nlight from the Source of all wisdom; and he had just left it, as we\nhave said, when he met the ambuscade which was prepared for him. This\nreligious spirit produced in him a great zeal for the glory of God, and\nthat devotion to the Vicar of Christ which in him so much resembled the\naffection of a child for his father. Let it suffice to say that when he\nhad to arrange the concordat with the Holy See, he sent his ambassador\nto Rome with a blank sheet signed by himself, telling him to ask his\nHoliness to write on it whatever seemed to him right and conducive to\nthe good of the church and the true welfare of the nation. Such was\nthe confidence which he reposed in the Pope, with whom politicians are\naccustomed to treat as if he were an ambitious and designing foreign\nprince, instead of being the father of all the faithful. When the\nrevolution entered Rome in triumph through the breach of Porta Pia,\nGarcia Moreno was the only ruler in the world who dared to enter a solemn\nprotest against that sacrilegious invasion; and he obtained from his\nCongress a considerable sum as a monthly subsidy and tribute of affection\nto his Holiness.\n\nBut his piety toward God and his filial love to the church can best be\nseen from the message to Congress which he finished a few hours before\nhis death, and which was found on his dead body, steeped in his blood.\nAlthough it is somewhat long for the limits of an article, we think that\nwe ought to present it to our readers as an imperishable monument of true\npiety and enlightened policy, and as a lesson for the false politicians\nof the present day and of days to come.\n\nThe message is as follows:\n\n    \u201cSENATORS AND DEPUTIES: I count among the greatest of the great\n    blessings which God has, in the inexhaustible abundance of\n    his mercy, granted to our republic, that of seeing you here\n    assembled under his protection, in the shadow of his peace,\n    which he has granted and still grants to us, while we are\n    nothing and can do nothing, and only give in return for his\n    paternal goodness inexcusable and shameful ingratitude.\n\n    \u201cIt is only a few years since Ecuador had to repeat daily\n    these sad words which the liberator Bolivar addressed in his\n    last message to the Congress of 1830: \u2018I blush to have to\n    acknowledge that independence is the only good which we have\n    acquired, and that we have lost all the rest in acquiring it.\u2019\n\n    \u201cBut since the time when, placing all our hope in God, we\n    escaped from the torrent of impiety and apostasy which\n    overwhelms the world in this age of blindness; since 1869, when\n    we reformed ourselves into a truly Catholic nation, everything\n    has been on a course of steady and daily improvement, and the\n    prosperity of our dear country has been continually increasing.\n\n    \u201cEcuador was not long ago a body from which the life-blood was\n    ebbing, and which was even, like a corpse, already a prey to\n    a horrible swarm of vermin which the liberty of putrefaction\n    engendered in the darkness of the tomb. But to-day, at the\n    command of that sovereign voice which called Lazarus from the\n    sepulchre, it has returned to life, though it still has not\n    entirely cast off the winding-sheet and bandages--that is to\n    say, the remains and effects of the misery and corruption in\n    which it had been buried.\n\n    \u201cTo justify what I have said, it will suffice for me to give\n    a short sketch of the progress which has been made in these\n    last two years, referring you to the various departments of\n    the government for documentary and detailed information. And\n    that you may see exactly how far we have advanced in this\n    period of regeneration, I shall compare our present condition\n    with that from which we started; not for our own glory and\n    self-gratulation, but to glorify Him to whom we owe everything,\n    and whom we adore as our Redeemer and our Father, our Protector\n    and our God.\u201d\n\n    Here follows an enumeration of all the improvements which had\n    been made. He continues:\n\n    \u201cWe owe to the perfect liberty which the church has among\n    us, and to the apostolic zeal of its excellent prelates, the\n    reformation of the clergy, the amendment of morals, and the\n    reduction of crimes; which is so great that in our population\n    of a million there are not enough criminals to fill the\n    penitentiary.\n\n    \u201cTo the church also we owe those religious corporations\n    which produce such an abundance of excellent results by the\n    instruction of childhood and youth, and by the succor which\n    they give so liberally to the sick and to the destitute. We are\n    also debtors to these religious for the renewal of the spirit\n    of piety in this year of jubilee and of sanctification, and\n    for the conversion to Christianity and civilization of nine\n    thousand savages in the eastern province, in which, on account\n    of its vast extent, there are good reasons for establishing a\n    second vicariate. If you authorize me to ask the Holy See for\n    this foundation, we will then consult as to what measures to\n    take to promote the commerce of this province, and to put an\n    end to the selfish speculations and the violent exactions to\n    which its poor inhabitants have been a prey by reason of the\n    cruelty of inhuman merchants. The laborers, however, for this\n    field are not now to be had; and that those which we shall\n    have may be properly trained, it is right that you should\n    give a yearly subsidy to our venerable and zealous archbishop,\n    to assist him in building the great seminary which he has not\n    hesitated to begin, trusting in the protection of Heaven and in\n    our co-operation.\n\n    \u201cDo not forget, legislators, that our little successes would be\n    ephemeral and without fruit if we had not founded the social\n    order of our republic upon the rock, always resisted and always\n    victorious, of the Catholic Church. Its divine teaching, which\n    neither men nor nations can neglect and be saved, is the rule\n    of our institutions, the law of our laws. Docile and faithful\n    children of our venerable, august, and infallible Pontiff,\n    whom all the great ones of the earth are abandoning, and who\n    is being oppressed by vile, cowardly, and impious men, we have\n    continued to send him monthly the little contribution which you\n    voted in 1873. Though our weakness obliges us to remain passive\n    spectators of his slow martyrdom, let us hope that this poor\n    gift may at least be a proof of our sympathy and affection, and\n    a pledge of our obedience and fidelity.\n\n    \u201cIn a few days the term for which I was elected in 1869\n    will expire. The republic has enjoyed six years of peace,\n    interrupted only by a revolt of a few days in 1872 at Riobamba,\n    of the natives against the whites; and in these six years it\n    has advanced rapidly on the path of true progress under the\n    visible protection of divine Providence. The results achieved\n    would certainly have been greater if I had possessed the\n    abilities for government which unfortunately I lack, or if all\n    that was needed to accomplish good was ardently to desire it.\n\n    \u201cIf I have committed faults, I ask pardon for them a thousand\n    times, and beg it with tears from all my countrymen, feeling\n    confident that they have been unintentional. If, on the\n    contrary, you think that in any respect I have succeeded,\n    give the honor of the success, in the first place, to God\n    and to his Immaculate Mother, to whom are committed the\n    inexhaustible treasures of his mercy; and, in the second place,\n    to yourselves, to the people, to the army, and to all those\n    who, in the different branches of the government, have assisted\n    me with intelligence and fidelity in the fulfilment of my\n    difficult duties.\n\n                                                  \u201cGABRIEL GARCIA MORENO.\n\n    \u201cQUITO, August, 1875.\u201d\n\nThat is the way that a really Catholic ruler can speak, even in this\nXIXth century. It seems, while we read his words, as if we were listening\nto Ferdinand of Castile or some other one of the saintly kings of the\nmost prosperous days of Christianity. With great justice, then, did the\ngovernment of Ecuador, when it published this message--which was found,\nas we have said, on Moreno\u2019s dead body--append to it the following note:\n\n\u201cThe message which we have just given is the solemn voice of one who is\ndead; or, better, it is his last will and testament actually sealed with\nhis own blood; for our noble president had just written it with his own\nhand when he was assailed by his murderers. Its last words are those of a\ndying father who, blessing his children, turns for the last time toward\nthem his eyes, darkened by the shadow of death, and asks pardon of them,\nas if he had been doing anything during all their lives but loading them\nwith benefits. Deeply moved and distressed by grief, we seek in vain for\nwords adequate to express our love and veneration for him. Posterity\nno doubt will honor the undying memory of the great ruler, the wise\npolitician, the noble patriot, and the saintly defender of the faith who\nhas been so basely assassinated. His country, worthily represented by\ntheir present legislators, will shed tears over this tomb which contains\nsuch great virtues and such great hopes, and will gratefully record on\nimperishable tablets the glorious name of this her son, who, regardless\nof his own blood and life, lived and died only for her.\u201d\n\nThis splendid eulogy is an echo of the eternal benediction and a\nreflection of the brilliant crown which we cannot doubt that God has\ngiven to this his latest martyr.\n\n\nIV.\n\nThe reader will see that this message of Garcia Moreno contains a true\nand genuine scheme of Christian government which he applied in the\nrepublic of Ecuador, in direct opposition to the ideas and aspirations\nof modern liberalism. Every point of it is in most marked contrast to\nthe liberalist programme. At some risk of repetition, we will here make\na short comparison between the two, on account of the importance of the\nconclusions which all prudent men can draw from it.\n\nMoreno begins with God, and puts him at the head of the government of\nhis people; liberalism would have the state atheistic, and is ashamed\neven to mention the name of God in its public documents. Moreno desires\nan intimate union between the state and the Catholic Church, declaring\nthat the social order must be founded on the church, and that her divine\nteaching must be the rule of human institutions and the law of civil\nlaws; liberalism, on the other hand, not only separates the state from\nthe church, but even raises it above her, and makes the civil laws the\nstandard in harmony with which the ecclesiastical laws must be framed.\nIt even would subject the most essential institutions of the church to\nthe caprice of man. Moreno desires full liberty for the bishops, and\nascribes to this liberty the reform of the clergy and the good morals\nof the people; liberalism wants to fetter episcopal action, excites\nthe inferior clergy to rebellion against their prelates, and endeavors\nto withdraw the people from the influence of either. Moreno not only\nsupports but multiplies religious communities; liberalism suppresses\nthem. Moreno respects ecclesiastical property, and promotes by the\nresources of the state the foundation of new seminaries, saying that\nwithout them it will not be possible worthily to fill the ranks of the\nsacred ministry; liberalism confiscates the goods of the church, closes\nthe seminaries, and sends the young Levites to the barracks, to be\neducated in the dissipation and license of military life. Moreno confides\nto the clergy and to the religious orders the training and instruction\nof youth; liberalism secularizes education, and insists on the entire\nexclusion of the religious element. Moreno removes from his Catholic\nnation the wiles and scandals of false religion; liberalism promulgates\nfreedom of worship, and opens the door to every heresy in faith and\nto every corruption in morals. Moreno, finally, sees in himself the\nweakness inherent in man, and gives God credit for all the good which he\naccomplishes; while liberalism, full of satanic pride, believes itself\ncapable of everything, and places all its confidence in the natural\npowers of man. The antagonism between the two systems is, in short,\nuniversal and absolute.\n\nNow, what is the verdict of experience? It is that the application\nof Moreno\u2019s system has resulted in peace, prosperity, the moral and\nmaterial welfare of the people--in a word, social happiness. On the\ncontrary, the application of the liberalist system has produced discord,\ngeneral misery, enormous taxation, immorality among the people, and\npublic scandals, and has driven society to the verge of destruction and\ndissolution. The liberty which it has given has been well defined by\nMoreno; it is the liberty of a corpse, the liberty to rot.\n\nAnd at this juncture the infamous wickedness and the despicable logic of\nthe liberalist party can no longer be concealed. It has laid it down as\ncertain that the principles of the middle ages, as it calls them--which\nare the true Catholic principles, the principles affirmed by our Holy\nFather Pius IX. in his Syllabus--are not applicable to modern times, and\ncan no longer give happiness to nations. But here is a ruler, Garcia\nMoreno by name, who gives the lie to this grovelling falsehood, and shows,\nby the irresistible evidence of facts, that the happiness of his people\nhas actually come simply from the application of these principles. What is\nthe answer of the liberalist sect to this manifest confutation of their\ntheory? First, it endeavors to cry down its formidable adversary by\ninvective and calumny; and then, finding that this does not suffice to\nremove him from public life, it murders him. This is the only means it\nhas to prove its thesis; and, having made use of it, it begins to shriek\nlouder than before that Catholic principles cannot be adapted to the\nprogress of this age. No, we agree that they cannot, if you are going to\nkill every one who adapts them. What use is it to argue with a sect so\nmalicious and perverse? O patience of God and of men, how basely are you\nabused!\n\n\nA REVIVAL IN FROGTOWN.\n\nThere was quite an excitement in Frogtown. The Rev. Eliphalet Notext,\n\u201cThe Great Revivalist, who had made more converts than any other man in\nEngland, Ireland, Scotland, Wales, the United States and Territories,\nand the British Provinces of North America,\u201d was to \u201copen a three weeks\u2019\ncampaign\u201d in the town.\n\nNow, Frogtown prided itself on being the wickedest little town in\nthe West. Its inhabitants claimed for it the enviable distinction of\nbeing \u201cthe fastest little village of its size in the United States\u201d--a\nweakness common to most small towns. This pride in vice is a widespread\nweakness. The lean and slippered pantaloon will wag his fallen chaps\nand give evident signs of pleasant titillation when some shank-shrunken\ncontemporary tells \u201cwhat a rascal the dog was in his youth.\u201d\n\nWell, the Frogtowners flattered themselves that Brother Notext would\nfind their burgh a very hard nut to crack. Brother Notext was not a\ntheologian. He was not a scholar. He was not a preacher. In truth, he\nwas almost illiterate. But he understood the \u201cbusiness\u201d of getting up\nrevivals. He knew how to create a sensation. He could, at least, achieve\na success of curiosity, as the French say.\n\nHe began with the newspapers, of course. He contrived to have them say\nsomething about him and his \u201cwork\u201d in every issue. He was not particular\nwhether what they said of him was favorable or unfavorable. Indeed,\nhe rather preferred that some of them should abuse him roundly. Abuse\nsometimes helped him more than praise. It made some people his friends\nthrough a spirit of contradiction. It appealed to the pugnacious\ninstincts of some \u201cprofessors of religion.\u201d It enabled him to hint that\nthe inimical editors were papal myrmidons, Jesuit emissaries, etc., etc.\n\nThe Rev. Eliphalet was really an excellent organizer. He had been\noriginally the business manager of a circus. His advertisements, his\nposters, his hand-bills, in his old occupation, were prepared with all\nthe gorgeous imagery of the East. He did not forget his old tactics in\nhis new profession. Immediately on his arrival in Frogtown he grappled\nthe newspapers. He begged, bullied, or badgered the editors until they\nnoticed him. He set the Christian Juveniles and the kindred societies to\nwork, with whom, of course, there was no difficulty. In a couple of days\nhe succeeded in drawing around him the clergymen of every denomination,\nexcept the Episcopalian and Unitarian. Some of these, however, went much\nagainst their will. The Episcopalian minister--a gentle, amiable man--was\nvery loath at first; but the pressure brought to bear upon him was too\nstrong. He finally succumbed and joined in what was called a Union\nChristian Meeting of all the Protestant congregations. This important\npoint achieved, Mr. Notext had three of the \u201cbest workers\u201d in each\ncongregation selected. These he sent among the people to raise the sinews\nof war, without which no campaign, whether sacred or profane, can be\nconducted to a successful issue. Mr. Notext\u2019s terms were reasonable--only\nthree hundred dollars a week and found. A man must live; and when a man\nworks hard--as Mr. Notext undoubtedly did--he must live well, or he\ncannot stand the strain on his physical and mental strength. Then, there\nwere blank weeks when he had no revival in hand, and probably a hotel\nbill to pay. Taking these things into consideration, any reasonable\nperson will allow that three hundred dollars a week and found was not an\nexorbitant price.\n\nMr. Notext had a large tent which the profane said had been formerly\nused in his old business. It was pitched in a vacant lot within the city\nlimits, and could accommodate about fifteen hundred persons. Mr. Notext\nprevailed on the clergymen who united with him to close their churches\non the first Sunday of his revival. On the previous Friday he gathered\naround him a number of male and female enthusiasts. Accompanied by these\npeople, organized in squads and led by the regular revival practitioners\nwho did what is profanely termed the \u201cside-show\u201d business in all Mr.\nNotext\u2019s tours, he sang hymns in front of every drinking-saloon in the\ntown. The instrumental accompaniment to the singing was furnished by a\nmelodeon, which was carried about in a one-horse cart.\n\nOn Sunday the union meetings began, and, notwithstanding a heavy\nrain, the tent was full. A large platform had been erected inside,\nand near the door was a table on which were exposed for sale a great\nvariety of contributions to religious literature, all by one author,\nwho had evidently tried every string of the religious lyre. There were\ncollections of hymns by the Rev. Mr. Notext; tracts by the Rev. Mr.\nNotext; sermons by the Rev. Mr. Notext; tales for the young by the Rev.\nMr. Notext; appeals to the old by the Rev. Mr. Notext; reasons for the\nmiddle-aged by the Rev. Mr. Notext, etc., etc. There were photographs, in\nevery style, of the Rev. Mr. Notext, as well as likenesses of remarkable\nconverts who had been remarkable rascals until they \u201cgot religion\u201d\nthrough the efforts of the Rev. Mr. Notext.\n\nOn the platform were seated the shepherds of most of the flocks in\nFrogtown. Some among them, it is true, did not seem quite at home in that\nsituation, but they had to be there. In the centre of the platform was an\norgan, which furnished the instrumental music. On each side of the organ\nseats were arranged for a volunteer choir. Fully half those present were\nchildren.\n\nThe Rev. Eliphalet Notext was introduced to the audience by the minister\nof the Methodist church. The revivalist was a stout, fair-haired,\nfresh-colored, rather pleasant-looking man, inclined to corpulency,\nevidently not an ascetic, and gifted with no inconsiderable share of\nphysical energy and magnetism.\n\n\u201cI wish all persons who can sing to come on the platform and occupy the\nseats to the right and left of the organ,\u201d he began.\n\nNo movement was made in response to this call. It was repeated with a\nbetter result. A dozen young ladies summoned up enough courage to mount\nthe platform.\n\n\u201cThis will never do!\u201d cried Mr. Notext. \u201cI want every person present who\ncan sing right here on this stand. We can\u2019t get along without music and\nplenty of it.\u201d\n\n\u201cBrethren,\u201d he continued, turning toward the clergymen on the platform,\n\u201cyou know the singers in your congregations; go among them and send them\nup here. Everybody must put his shoulder to the wheel in the great work\nof bringing souls to Jesus.\u201d\n\nThe brethren meekly did as they were bid. They soon succeeded in filling\nthe seats reserved for the singers. These numbered about one hundred.\n\n\u201cThat\u2019s more like it,\u201d said Mr. Notext approvingly. \u201cNow, my friends, we\nwill begin by singing a hymn. I want everybody to join in.\u201d (A nod to the\norganist, who began to play.)\n\nThe singing was rather timid at first, but, led by Mr. Notext, the\nsingers rapidly gained confidence, and soon rolled forth in full chorus.\nHaving fairly launched them, their leader, after the first verse, left\nthem to take care of themselves. The singing was really good. The rich\nvolume of harmony drowned the commonplace melody and the vulgar words.\nThus Brother Notext was successful in the production of his first effect.\nIt was evident that he depended much on the singing. There is nothing\nlike a grand mass of choral music to excite the sensibilities. After two\nor three hymns, the revivalist had his audience in a highly emotional\ncondition. \u201cI want all the children together in front!\u201d shouted Mr.\nNotext. \u201c_Ad_ults [the accent on the first syllable] will retire to the\nback seats. Don\u2019t stop the music! Keep up the singing! Go on! go on!\u201d\nThen he ran to the organ, whispered something to the organist, and led\noff with\n\n    \u201cOh! you must be a lover of the Lord,\n    Or you won\u2019t go to heaven when you die,\u201d\n\nleaving the singers to sing it out for themselves after the first two or\nthree lines.\n\nIt took some time to get all the children to the front. If the music\nflagged, Mr. Notext shouted to the singers to \u201ckeep it up.\u201d From time to\ntime he would rush to the organ, pick up a hymn-book in a frantic manner,\nand lead off with a new hymn, waving his hands in cadence, but, with a\ndue regard for his lungs, not singing a note more than was absolutely\nnecessary to start the other singers afresh.\n\nThe fathers and mothers of the little ones, softened by the music, looked\nwith moistened eyes on their children as the latter took their seats. The\nAmerican people are very fond of children when they are old enough to\nwalk and talk and be interesting. Mr. Notext was alive to this fact. Even\nthe worst criminal or the most cynical man of the world cannot help being\ntouched while music charms his ears and his eyes look on the beautiful\nspectacle of childish innocence. Mr. Notext evidently knew the more\namiable weaknesses of human nature. He appealed to the senses and the\naffections, and won over the fathers and mothers through the children.\n\n\u201cNow, my little friends,\u201d said Mr. Notext, \u201cI wish you all to keep\nperfectly silent while I am talking to you. This first meeting is\nespecially for you.\u201d\n\nThere was considerable buzzing among the little ones.\n\n\u201cI must have silence, if I am to do anything with these children,\u201d said\nMr. Notext rather testily, and in a tone which showed that he would not\nscruple to apply the birch to his little friends if they did not keep\nquiet. \u201cThe slightest noise distracts their attention. There are some\nboys to the right there who are still talking! I wish some one would stop\nthem.\u201d\n\nA softly-stepping gentleman with long hair and green goggles went to the\ndesignated group, remonstrated with, and finally succeeded in silencing,\nthem. Then Mr. Notext began his sermon to the children. He told the\nstory of the Passion in a manner which, though it inexpressibly shocked\nChristians of the old-fashioned kind who happened to be present, was\nexceedingly dramatic--\u201crealistic\u201d in the highest degree, to borrow a\nword from the modern play-bill. Suddenly he broke off and said rather\nexcitedly:\n\n\u201cThere is a boy on the fourth bench who persists in talking. I must have\nabsolute silence, or I cannot hold the attention of these children.\nThe slightest noise distracts them and takes their minds away from the\npicture I am endeavoring to present to them. It is that red-haired boy!\nWill somebody please to take him away?\u201d Several pious gentlemen bore\ndown on the poor little red-haired urchin, and all chance of \u201cgetting\nreligion\u201d was taken away from him for the nonce by his summary removal.\nWhen silence was restored, Mr. Notext resumed the story. When describing\nhow the divine Victim was buffeted and spat upon, he administered to\nhimself sounding slaps on the face, now with the left hand, now with the\nright. He placed an imaginary crown of thorns on his head, pressed the\nsharp points into his forehead, and, passing the open fingers of both\nhands over his closed eyes and down his face, traced the streams of blood\ntrickling from the cruel wounds. Tears already rolled down the cheeks of\nthe little ones. When he reached the nailing to the cross, he produced a\nlarge spike, exhibited it to the children, and went through the semblance\nof driving it into his flesh. An outburst of sobs interrupted him. Some\nof the children screamed in very terror. The desired effect was produced.\nMany fathers and mothers, touched by the emotion and terror of their\nchildren, wept in sympathy with them.\n\n\u201cNow the music!\u201d shouted Mr. Notext, stamping with impatience, as if he\nwanted a tardy patient to swallow a Sedlitz-powder in the proper moment\nof effervescence. \u201cNow the music!\u201d And he led off with\n\n    \u201cOh! you must be a lover of the Lord,\n    Or you won\u2019t go to heaven when you die!\u201d\n\nHe shouted to the \u201cworkers\u201d to go among the people and ask them to \u201ccome\nto Jesus.\u201d A crowd of \u201cworkers,\u201d some professional, some enthusiastic\nvolunteers, broke loose upon the audience. They seized people by the\nhands. They embraced them. They inquired: \u201cHow do you feel now? Do you\nnot feel that Jesus is calling you?\u201d They begged them to come to Jesus at\nonce. They asked them if they were \u201cKer-istians.\u201d\n\nOne of the workers met two gentlemen who entered together and were\nevidently present through curiosity. Of the first, who seemed to be a\ncool, keen, self-poised business man, the worker asked the stereotyped\nquestion:\n\n\u201cAre you a Ker-istian?\u201d\n\n\u201cOf course, of course,\u201d said the self-possessed business man.\n\nThe worker passed on, perfectly satisfied with the off-hand declaration.\nHe repeated the question to the gentleman\u2019s companion, who, possessed of\nless assurance, hesitated and humbly replied:\n\n\u201cI trust so.\u201d\n\nThe worker immediately grappled the sensitive gentleman, much to his\nmortification, and it was some time before he succeeded in effecting\nhis escape, regretting, doubtless, that he had not made as prompt and\nsatisfactory a profession of faith as that of his companion.\n\nThe \u201cinquiry meeting,\u201d as the exercises toward the close were named, was\ncontinued until late in the afternoon. When the children were dismissed,\nthey were instructed to beg their parents to come to Jesus--to entreat\nthem, with tears if necessary, until they consented. A Presbyterian\ngentleman of the old school, describing his sensations after the meeting\nwas over, said:\n\n\u201cI cannot deny that I was affected. I felt tears coming to my eyes--why,\nI could not tell. The effect, however, was entirely physical. My reason\nhad nothing to do with it. It condemned the whole thing as merely\ncalculated to get up an unhealthy excitement, which, even if not\ninjurious, would be fleeting in its effect. I noticed some nervous women\nalmost worked up into spasms. As to the children, they were goaded into\na state of nervousness and terror which was pitiable to see. I can only\ncompare my own condition to that of a man who had drunk freely. While\nthe effect lasted I was capable of making a fool of myself, being all\nthe while aware that I was doing so. Sunlight and air have dispelled the\nintoxication, and now nothing remains but nausea.\n\n\u201cI am disgusted with such claptrap, and ashamed of myself for having been\naffected by it, however temporarily and slightly.\u201d\n\nThe progress made on the first Sunday of the revival was duly chronicled\nin the newspapers of the day following. It was announced that hundreds of\nchildren had been awakened to a sense of their sinful condition. A little\ngirl--four years old--had recognized that she was thoroughly steeped\nin sin. She had had no idea of the condition of her soul until she was\nroused to it by Mr. Notext\u2019s preaching. She was now perfectly happy. She\nhad experienced religion. She knew she was forgiven. She had gone to\nJesus, and Jesus had come to her. She had sought Mr. Notext\u2019s lodgings,\nleading her father with one hand and her mother with the other.\n\nCharley Biggs--the well-known drunken alderman--was among the converted.\nHe had \u201cgot religion,\u201d and was resolved henceforth to touch the\ntime-honored toddy nevermore.\n\nA belated \u201clocal\u201d of one of the newspapers, while returning to his\nlodgings on the previous evening, had his coat-tail pulled, much to his\nsurprise, by a little girl about six years old.\n\n\u201cPlease, sir,\u201d she asked, \u201cdo you know Jesus?\u201d\n\nThe \u201clocal\u201d was struck dumb.\n\n\u201cO sir!\u201d she continued, \u201cwon\u2019t you please come to Jesus?\u201d\n\nThis was enough. The hard heart-of the \u201clocal\u201d was touched. He sobbed, he\nwept, he cried aloud. He fell upon his knees. The little girl fell on\nhers. They sang:\n\n    \u201cCome to Jesus,\n    Come to Jesus,\n    Come to Jesus just now,\u201d etc.\n\nWhen the \u201clocal\u201d rose, after the conclusion of the singing, he took\nthe little girl\u2019s hand and went whither she led him. He, too, had \u201cgot\nreligion\u201d--somewhat as one gets a _coup de soleil_ or a stroke of\nparalysis.\n\nThe opposition dailies mildly called attention to the purely emotional\ncharacter of the effects produced. They expressed their fears that the\nmoral and physical result of factitious excitement on minds of tender\nyears might be the reverse of healthy. The next day the melodeon was\ncarted about again and the singing continued on the sidewalks and in\nfront of the drinking-saloons. Mr. Notext\u2019s machinery was in full blast.\nThe meeting on the second evening was devoted principally to grown\npeople. The tent was full. The choir was strengthened by additional\nvoices, and the music was good of its kind.\n\nAfter half a dozen hymns had been sung, Mr. Notext began his sermon--by\ncourtesy so-called. He first spoke of the number of persons he had\nconverted at home and abroad. For he had been \u201cabroad,\u201d as he took care\nto let his audience know. He had been the guest and the favored companion\nof the Duchess of Skippington, of the Earl of Whitefriars, of Lord This\nand Lady That, and the Countess of Thingumy. In Scotland and in Ireland\nimmense crowds followed him and \u201cgot religion.\u201d He converted three\nthousand people in a single town in Ireland. Since the meeting on the\nprevious day, many children, and many adults as well, had visited him at\nhis lodgings. Some who came to the tent \u201cto make fun\u201d went away full of\nreligion. He would now let a dear little friend of his tell his own story\nin his own way.\n\nA red-haired youngster, about thirteen, was introduced to the audience as\nthe nephew of a prominent and well-known official in a neighboring town.\n(It was afterwards stated, by the way, that the official in question had\nnot a nephew in the world. No doubt the youngster imposed on Mr. Notext.)\nIf ever there were a thoroughly \u201cbad boy,\u201d this youngster was one, or--as\nmay be very possible--his face belied him atrociously. Mr. Notext placed\nhis arm dramatically--affectionately, rather--around the young rogue\u2019s\nneck, and led him to the front of the platform. The boy looked at the\naudience with a leer, half-impudent, half-jocular, and then gave his\nexperiences glibly in a very harsh treble:\n\n\u201cWhen first I heard that Rev. Mr. Notext was going to get up a revival, I\njoked about it with other boys, and said he couldn\u2019t convert me; and the\nnight of the first meeting I said to the other boys--who were bad boys,\ntoo--for us to go along and make fun. And so we did. And I came to laugh\nat Mr. Notext and to make fun. And somehow--I don\u2019t know how it was--I\ngot religion, and I was converted; and now I am very happy, and I love\nMr. Notext, and I am going with him to Smithersville when he gets through\nhere. And I am very happy since I was converted and became a good boy.\u201d\n(Sensation among the audience, and music by the choir in response to Mr.\nNotext\u2019s call.)\n\nAnother juvenile convert was brought forward. He repeated substantially\nthe same story as his predecessor, though more diffidently. (More music\nby the choir.)\n\nMr. Notext now told the affecting story of \u201clittle Jimmy.\u201d Little Jimmy\nwas a native of Hindostan. He lived in some town ending in _an_. There\nwas in that town a missionary school. Jimmy\u2019s master was a very bad\nman--cruel, tyrannical. He forbade Jimmy to go to the mission-school.\nBut Jimmy went, nevertheless, whenever he could. The master was a true\nbeliever in the national religion of Hindostan. He believed that Jimmy\nwould go to perdition if he left his ancestral faith to embrace the\nnational religion--or rather the governmental religion--of Great Britain.\nJimmy would return from his visits to the mission-school in a very happy\nmood, singing as he went:\n\n    \u201cYes, I love Jesus,\n    Yes, I love Jesus,\n      I know, I know I do,\u201d etc.\n\nMr. Notext gave an operatic rendering of the scene of Jimmy going home\nsinging the above words. One day the master heard Jimmy, and was roused\nto a state of fury. He forbade the boy to sing the song. But Jimmy would\nsing it (Mr. Notext did not say whether Jimmy sang the hymn in English\nor Hindostanee). Then the brutal master took an enormous cowhide--or\nthe Hindostanee punitive equivalent thereto--and belabored poor Jimmy.\nBut Jimmy continued to sing, though the tears rolled down his cheeks\nfrom pain. And the master flogged; and Jimmy sang. And still the master\nflogged and flogged. And still Jimmy sang and sang and sang. It was like\nthe famous fight in Arkansas, wherein the combatants \u201cfit and fit and\nfit.\u201d But there must be an end of everything--even of an Arkansas fight.\nThe struggle lasted for hours. Exhausted nature finally gave way, and\npoor little Jimmy died under the lash, singing with his last breath:\n\n    \u201cYes, I love Jesus,\n    Yes, I love Jesus,\n      I know, I know I do.\u201d\n\n\u201cNow, my friends,\u201d said Mr. Notext, \u201cI want you all to stand up for Jesus\nand sing poor little Jimmy\u2019s song.\u201d And Mr. Notext led off. The choir\nfollowed his example; but the audience remained seated.\n\n\u201cI want to know,\u201d said Mr. Notext rather testily, \u201chow many Christians\nthere are in this assembly. I want every one of them to stand up!\u201d\n\nSeveral persons now stood up, and gradually the action began to spread,\nlike yawning in a lecture-room. There were still many, however, who\nhad not hearkened to Mr. Notext\u2019s summons to stand up. He called\nattention to them, and bade some of the brethren go to them and talk\nthem into an erect position. Some of the recalcitrants, evidently to\navoid importunity, stood up. The rest also stood up, and hurriedly left\nthe tent, followed by an angry scowl from Mr. Notext. After a little\nhesitation, he said: \u201cWe will now once more sing little Jimmy\u2019s hymn.\u201d\nAnd when the hymn was sung, the meeting dispersed.\n\nNext morning the friendly newspapers chronicled the wonderful success\nof Mr. Notext\u2019s efforts. The number of converts was miraculously large.\nTwo thousand persons had stood up for Jesus. The meetings were continued\nduring the week. The _modus operandi_ was about the same. Mr. Notext\nrepeated himself so often that interest began to languish and his _coups\nde th\u00e9\u00e2tre_ to grow flat and stale. When he was at a loss for words to\ncontinue one of his disjointed discourses, he took refuge in music and\nhymns.\n\n\u201cBrethren, let us sing:\n\n    \u201cCome to Jesus!\n    Come to Jesus!\n    Come to Jesus just now,\u201d etc.\n\nWhen his vulgar and often unintentionally blasphemous exhortations\nfailed to hold the attention of his hearers, and Morpheus was making\nfight against him in sundry corners of the tent, he would suddenly call\nin his loudest tones on all present to stand up for Jesus. In cases of\nvery marked inattention, he would summon his hearers, and particularly\nthe children, to write down their names for Jesus in a large book kept\nfor that purpose by the great revivalist. This stroke generally roused\nthe audience pretty thoroughly. But when the children had written their\nnames in the book three or four times, they began to grow tired of the\npractice, thinking that, if these writing lessons were continued, they\nmight as well be at school.\n\nIn the beginning of the second week there were unmistakable signs of\nimpending collapse. The revival received a momentary impulse, however,\nfrom the opposition of another \u201cReverend Doctor,\u201d who challenged Mr.\nNotext to controversy. This aroused the natural desire to witness a\n\u201cfight\u201d which lives in the human heart. But the desire was not gratified,\nowing to Mr. Notext\u2019s refusal to accept the challenge. His failure to\nexhibit a proper polemical pugnacity was a very great detriment to him.\nIndeed, the end of the second week showed a marked falling off in the\nnumber of persons present at the nightly meetings. Then the sinews of\nwar began to fail. The weekly wage of the great revivalist could not\nbe raised, though he thrice sent back \u201cthe best workers\u201d in all the\ncongregations to make additional efforts to raise the stipulated sum.\n\nThe Rev. Dr. Notext did not tarry very much longer in Frogtown. He\nhad barely turned his back upon the little town before every trace of\nthe \u201cgreat tidal wave of the revival\u201d (as the journals called it) had\ndisappeared. The youthful converts had gone back to their peg tops, their\nkites, and their china alleys, and Alderman Charley Biggs was again\ntaking his whiskey-toddies in the time-honored way.\n\n\nTHE PRESIDENT\u2019S MESSAGE.\n\nThe President\u2019s message, so far as it deals with the school question and\nthe taxation of church property, is the sequel to the speech which he\ndelivered at Des Moines. The article on that oration which appeared in\nour last number was, to some extent, an exposition of our views on the\nschool question.\n\nWe are sure that those views, when carefully examined, will be\nfound to contain the only solution in harmony with the spirit of\nfree institutions. We are willing to submit to the fairness of our\nfellow-citizens, and to wait until time and thought have matured their\njudgment on the following questions:\n\n1. Who has a right to direct the education of children--their parents or\nthe government?\n\n2. Whether, in a republic whose form of government depends more than\nany other upon the virtue of its citizens, it is better to have moral\ninstruction given in abundance, or to have this species of instruction\nrestricted to the narrowest limits?\n\n3. Whether it is the design of a free government to legislate for all, or\nwhether public institutions--the common schools, for instance--are to be\ndirected only for the benefit of certain classes?\n\n4. Whether moneys raised by taxation for the common good should not be so\napplied as to satisfy the conscientious demands of all citizens?\n\n5. Whether taxation otherwise directed than for the good of all is not a\nviolation of the maxim, \u201cTaxation without representation is tyranny\u201d?\n\n6. Whether Catholics have or have not shown zeal for education, both\nprimary and scientific?\n\n7. Whether they have or have not shed their blood in defence of the\nnation, or furnished any of its great leaders in peace and war?\n\n8. Whether any instance can be shown in which they have entered or\ninhabited any country on equal terms with Protestants and infidels, and\nhave abused their power to hamper or persecute their fellow-citizens?\n\n9. Whether, in paying their taxes and supporting their own schools to\nthe best of their power, peacefully discussing the question of public\nwelfare and their own rights, Catholics are acting as loyal citizens or\nas factious disturbers of good-will and kindly feeling among neighbors?\n\n10. Finally, whether, in consideration of the foregoing, our views are\nnot entitled to respectful consideration?\n\nWe have no doubt whatever that when the thoughtful and just men of our\nday and race have duly pondered upon these subjects, we shall fully agree\nwith their deliberate reply.\n\nAt no time in the history of our country will it be found that Catholics\nhave introduced religion into the arena of political discussion, and any\nattempt to do so will meet with failure. In this they are in perfect\naccord with the principles underlying our institutions and the genuine\nspirit of this country. If, at this moment, the rancor of ancient bigotry\nand fanaticism or modern hatred of Christianity has attempted to awaken a\npolitical conflict on religious grounds, while it refuses to admit a calm\nconsideration of Catholic claims, we appeal from Philip drunk to Philip\nsober.\n\nIn the meantime, we shall assume, that there are those who wish to hear\nmore with regard to our principles and convictions. We shall endeavor to\nremove all obscurity on the questions now under discussion, and to reply\nto whatever reasonable objections may be made against our principles.\n\nWith regard to the taxation of church property, we await the action of\nthe political world. Some politicians, whose \u201cvaulting ambition\u201d is of\nthat kind which \u201co\u2019erleaps itself,\u201d would introduce this question into\npolitical discussion in order to draw off the attention of the American\npeople from the real, present issues in their politics. We ask for no\ninnovations; but if such be made, let there be no discrimination. We\nstand before the law as do all other religious denominations. \u201cLet us\nhave peace\u201d were the memorable words spoken at a memorable time by a man\nwho to a large extent held the future of this country in his hands. Those\nwords held, and hold still, the germs of the wisest policy. We repeat\nthem now, and add, if we cannot have peace, let us at least have fair\nplay. If the projectors and advocates of this innovation suppose that, in\nthe event of its being carried out, they will thereby worst the Catholic\nChurch, their action in the end will be found to resemble that of the man\nwho cut off his nose to spite his neighbor.\n\nSince these words were written, four letters have appeared in the New\nYork _Times_ under the heading, \u201cShould Church Property be Taxed?\u201d and\nover the signature of George H. Andrews. The writer is not a Catholic.\nHis clear, concise reasons against the taxation of church property, as\nrecommended by the President in his message, will have the more weight\nwith non-Catholic readers on that account. It is singular, yet natural,\nto see how his argument strengthens our own position on the question in\na number of ways, particularly as regards the suicidal policy of many\nwho, through hatred or fear of the Catholic Church, may be induced to\ncommit themselves to a measure which would prove an irreparable mischief\nto their own church or churches. Passing by the many able and suggestive\npoints in Mr. Andrews\u2019 letters, we take just such as more immediately\nbear on the thoughts thrown out by ourselves.\n\nBy the census of 1870 the value of all kinds of church property in the\nUnited States belonging to the leading denominations was placed as\nfollows:\n\n    Methodist,                       $69,854,121\n    Roman Catholic,                   60,935,556\n    Presbyterian,                     53,265,256\n    Baptist,                          41,608,198\n    Episcopalian,                     36,514,549\n    Congregational,                   25,069,698\n    Reformed,                         16,134,470\n    Lutheran,                         14,917,747\n    Unitarian,                         6,282,675\n    Universalist,                      5,692,325\n    Others,                           24,000,000\n                                   -------------\n                                    $354,324,595\n\n\u201cFrom these it appears,\u201d says Mr. Andrews, \u201cthat the relative proportion\nof each denomination to the whole is substantially as follows:\n\n\u201cMethodist, one-fifth of the aggregate; Roman Catholic, one-sixth\nof the aggregate; Presbyterian, one-seventh of the aggregate;\nBaptist, one-ninth of the aggregate; Episcopalian, one-tenth of the\naggregate; Congregational, one-fourteenth of the aggregate; Reformed,\none-twenty-second of the aggregate; Lutheran, one-twenty-third of the\naggregate; Unitarian, one-fifty-ninth of the aggregate; Universalist,\none-sixtieth of the aggregate.\u201d\n\nAnd here is the case in a nutshell: \u201cTo me it seems obvious,\u201d comments\nMr. Andrews, on reviewing his figures, \u201cthat the expectation is that\nthose who belong or are allied to other sects will, from dislike to or\nfear of the Roman Catholic Church, impose a burden upon it, even if in\ndoing so they are obliged to assume an equal burden themselves; or, in\nother words, that the owners of $294,000,000 of church property will\nsubject it to taxation in order to impose a similar tax upon the owners\nof $60,000,000 of church property. So that the adherents of every other\nsect, at variance among themselves about sundry matters of doctrine and\npractice, essential and non-essential, can be brought to act in concert,\nand to give effect to a common spirit of hostility to Roman Catholic\ndoctrine, to Roman Catholic exclusiveness, Roman Catholic aggression, and\nRoman Catholic influence, by placing a tax upon Roman Catholic Church\nproperty--in effect, arousing a spirit of persecution, qualified by the\ncondition imposed by the Constitution, that the would-be persecutor must\nshare in the penalty he may succeed in imposing upon the object of his\ndislike.\u201d Which is precisely what we have characterized as \u201ccutting off\none\u2019s nose to spite a neighbor.\u201d\n\nMay we presume to ask whether the taxation of church property will reduce\nthe expenses of the general government, render its officials more honest,\nand purify our legislative halls? These are the duties of the hour. Here\nare the issues of our politics. But a profound silence regarding them\nreigns in the official utterance. Are the projectors of the new policy\nafraid to face them? Does their conscience make cowards of them? Or is it\nthat they are playing the part of the cuttle-fish?\n\nUp to this period the state and all religious denominations have advanced\npeaceably to prosperity, and there have been no real grounds of complaint\non any side. At least we have heard of none publicly. What, then, has\nbrought about this sudden change? Who has called for it? Why should\nit be sprung upon us at this moment? No danger threatens from this\nquarter. There is not visible on our political horizon even the \u201ccloud\nno bigger than a man\u2019s hand.\u201d Catholics, when only a handful, never\ndreamed of objecting to the exemption from taxation of the property of\nother religious denominations, or to the aid which their benevolent\ninstitutions received. Can it be the rapid development of Catholicity\nhere which has prompted the proposed innovation? Are these exemptions,\nwhich have been handed down from the time of our fathers, to be altered\nbecause Catholicity has had her share in the common progress? Let truth\nand error grapple on a fair and open field. Is there fear that truth will\nbe worsted in the struggle?\n\nIf the exemption of church property from taxation be so great an evil\nand danger to the country, those whom Americans generally are content to\nregard as their great statesmen must have been very short-sighted men\nafter all to pass by, one after another, so glaring an evil. For the\ngrowth of church property is not a thing of to-day. In his message the\nPresident says that he believes that \u201cin 1850 the church property of the\nUnited States which paid no tax, municipal or State, amounted to about\neighty-three million dollars. In 1860 the amount had doubled. In 1875 it\nis about one thousand million dollars.\u201d\n\nMr. Andrews questions the estimate for 1875 on the ground that it is too\nhigh. But let that pass. The following table, given by Mr. Andrews, shows\nthe increase in value, according to the census, of the property of the\nten principal churches for the last twenty years:\n\n                            1850             1860             1870\n    Methodist,          $14,825,670      $33,683,371      $69,854,121\n    Roman Catholic,       9,256,753       26,744,119       60,985,556\n    Presbyterian,        14,543,780       24,227,359       53,265,256\n    Baptist,             11,620,855       19,789,378       41,608,198\n    Episcopalian,        11,375,610       21,665,698       36,514,549\n    Congregational,       8,001,995       13,327,511       25,069,698\n    Reformed,             4,116,280        4,453,820       16,134,470\n    Lutheran,             2,909,711        5,385,179       14,917,747\n    Unitarian,            3,280,822        4,338,316        6,282,675\n    Universalist,         1,718,316        2,856,095        5,692,325\n                      -------------    -------------    -------------\n                        $81,649,797     $156,470,846     $330,324,595\n\nThe gradation, it will be seen, has been pretty steady, and is\ncomparatively no more marked in 1870 than it was in 1860, or than it was,\nprobably, in 1850. In that year, however, the Catholics were led by four\nreligious bodies, and almost equalled by one. Ten years later they stood\nsecond, and after another ten years second still. Surrounded as they are\nby jealous foes, they offer fair game, therefore, to men in search of\npolitical prey. All was right so long as the others reaped an advantage\nover Catholics; but the moment there appears any prospect of Catholics\nreaping an advantage equally with the rest, the cry is: The country is in\ndanger, and can only be saved by taxing church property. Who so blind as\nnot to see through this flimsy pretext?\n\nNot Mr. Andrews certainly, and no words of ours could be more forcible\nthan his. \u201cDiscarding all circumlocution,\u201d he writes, \u201cit is as well to\nget down at once to the bottom fact, which is that whatever euphemistic\nphrases may be resorted to, a desire to obstruct the growth and\ncircumscribe the influence of the Roman Catholic Church gives whatever\nvitality it may possess to the proposition to tax church property.\u201d\n\nBut supposing this change to be made, is it to be imagined for a moment\nthat the progress of the church will be stopped by it? That is futile.\nIf, though so few in numbers and at a great disadvantage, the church was\nable to raise herself to her present position; if, when the exemptions\nwere all in favor of other denominations, Catholics were able to make\nso great a progress, is it to be supposed that by these changes, and\nby placing other denominations on an equality with Catholics, the\nadvancement of the Catholic Church is to be retarded?\n\nWe have been trained in the stern school of poverty. We are accustomed to\nsacrifice. Our clergy do not receive high salaries. The personal expenses\nof his Eminence the Cardinal-Archbishop are much less than those of\nmany a clerical family in New York City. Wherever we have arms to work\nwith, the church of God shall not lack all that is necessary to give it\ndignity, even if we have to pay taxes for it besides. In Ireland the\npriests and people have shared their crust in the midst of the famine,\nand in fear of death, until within a few years. In Germany we are now\nabout to part with our property, under the wicked injustice of the state,\nrather than submit to its interference in the affairs of conscience. Is\nany person foolish enough to imagine that a few dollars, more or less,\nof taxation is going to dishearten or frighten us? If you want to make\nour people more liberal, if you want to see grand Catholic churches and\nthe cross overtopping roof and spire in every city, just put us on our\nmettle. Persecution is our legacy. Martyrdom is our life. The cross on\nour brows is no empty symbol. These are our feelings. We have no alarm\nwhatever.\n\nThese proposed innovations are only the entrance of a wedge that, driven\nhome, will disturb the foundations of our government; will create\nreligious strife, and blast the hopes of freedom, not only in this\ncountry, but all the world over. They count, however, without their\nhost who think that the American people are prepared to enter on such\na career; and the politicians who hope to ride into power by awakening\nthe spirit of fanaticism and religious bigotry among us, if their names\nbe held in memory at all, will at no remote period be pointed out with\nthe finger of scorn and contumely as the disturbers of that peace and\nharmony which ought always to reign in a just people, and which it is the\ntrue policy of all government and the duty of all citizens to foster and\nmaintain. We say nothing at the present regarding the unconstitutionality\nof these proposed innovations, and of the secret banding together of men\nto carry them out.\n\n\nA NIGHT AT THE GRANDE CHARTREUSE.\n\nFROM THE FRENCH OF SAINT-GENEST.\n\nIt is near midnight. I am alone in my cell, awaiting the mysterious guide\nwho brought me hither, and who will return to call me for the office of\nMatins.\n\nI listen to every sound, seeking to understand its language. During the\nfirst hour I still heard steps from time to time in the distance; then\nI half opened my door and looked outside. At the end of the cloister a\nwhite figure appeared, carrying a small light in its hand. It approached\nat a slow pace, stopped near a pillar, and disappeared under the arches.\n\nSometimes I have seen other shadows pass along, and have heard a few\nlow-spoken words, \u2026 bells which answered each other; then, little by\nlittle, everything is extinguished and silent.\u2026 There is not another\nsound, another breath; \u2026 but still I listen, and cannot cease to listen.\n\nIs it indeed myself who am in this monastery? Was I, only to-day, yet in\nthe midst of the living? Can one single day comprise so many things? This\nwhich is just ending has been so full, so strange, that I cannot well\nrecount all that has happened in it.\n\nAnd yet it was but this morning that I was at Aix, in the midst of light\nand noise and gayety.\u2026 The children were gambolling around me! All at\nonce some one said: \u201cSuppose we go to the Grande Chartreuse!\u201d It was said\njust as one would say anything else. We set out, as if for an ordinary\nexcursion, a party of pleasure. Mme. B---- had provisions in readiness,\nwhich were increased by the additions of other members of the party, and\nwe start in the midst of lively speeches and merriment.\n\nSo long as we proceed along the valley this is all very well. The road\nrises and descends, running through the vineyards, skirting the rocks,\nwhile the warm breath of the south gently moves the surrounding verdure.\nThen, after piercing the flank of the mountain, it slopes down toward the\nplains of Dauphine, discovering a horizon all bathed in light.\n\nIt is after passing Saint Laurent, at the foot of the _Desert_, and in\nperceiving the entrance of the gorge, that one begins to understand\nsomething more; \u2026 it is then that jesting is silenced and gayety grows\ngrave.\n\nThen, on arriving at the Guiers-Mort, we become altogether dumb. Already\nwe had ceased to laugh; we now ceased to speak, but regarded with a\nsort of stupefaction this road without issue, which seemed to end in\nchaos. The mountains rose defiantly before us, overlapping and mingling\nwith each other, and here and there barring the way with huge masses of\nprecipitous rock; the gigantic trees seem to rise to the clouds, and\ntorrents from unknown heights fall as if from heaven, while the rocks\ncrowd upon, before, around, and seem to say, \u201cNo farther shall you\ngo.\u201d As we come to a turn, it seems as if all progress were indeed at\nan end; two immense blocks fallen across each other completely close\nthe horizon.\u2026 We approach them, however, and it opens again, the rocks\nforming a sort of Titanic vaulted roof overhead, and falling again in\nthe form of three bridges, one above the other, the horses continuing to\nclimb a road which the eye cannot take in.\n\nAnd whilst one is lost in these abysses, what a perfect dream of splendor\nbegins to break overhead! Meadows of the most exquisite green seem as if\nsuspended far above us, silvery rocks jutting out from among their black\nfirs, gigantic oaks grasping the heights of the precipices, their crowns\nof verdure glittering in the wind.\u2026 It is a fantastic apparition. One\nhas visions in one\u2019s childhood of unknown regions, of enchanted forests\nguarded by genii, but one never thought to contemplate these marvels in\nreality.\n\nThen, all at once, the mountains separate, the torrents disappear, and in\nthe midst of a gorge rise battlements and spires.\u2026 It is the monastery.\nThere it stands, guarded by these lofty sentinels, in this sombre\namphitheatre, which would be desolation itself if God had not scattered\nthere all the magical beauties of his creation.\n\nThere is not a village, not a cottage, not a wayfarer--nothing; there is\nLa Chartreuse. No solitude can be compared to that!\n\nOn the summit of St. Bernard and of the Simplon monasteries destined\nfor the relief of travellers present themselves to the passage of the\nnations. In the sandy deserts the most isolated convents find themselves\nin the road of the caravans; but here this road conducts to nothing--it\nis a silent gorge; it is the Valley of Contemplation; it is the greatest\nsolitude that one can imagine.\n\nAnd when from those heights one has seen the gradual approach of night;\nseen these masses of rock and of verdure enfolded in the vast shadows;\nand, at the summons of the monastery bell, has seen the last of the white\nrobes descend from the mountain, he feels that it is one of those moments\nin a life which will never be forgotten. Then, after having stayed awhile\nto contemplate this scene, I rose and came to knock at this door, which\nhas been to so many others as the gate of the tomb.\u2026 A Carthusian monk\nbrought me to my cell, went his way in silence, and since then I have\nbeen left to my reflections.\n\nThere are, then, men who in the morning were in their homes, in the midst\nof their friends, in life, and stir, and the noise of the outer world.\u2026\nThey have climbed this mountain, they have sought this _Desert_, have\nknocked at this gate; it has closed upon them, \u2026 and for ever.\n\nThey have, as I, sat down at this table; they have gazed at the walls of\ntheir cell, and have said to themselves: \u201cBehold henceforth my horizon.\u201d\nThen they have heard the sound of these bells, the echo of these\nlitanies, and they have said to themselves: \u201cWe shall henceforth hear no\nother voice.\u201d\n\nYou see, one reads these things in the works of poets, one sees them\nrepresented in the drama; but one must find one\u2019s self actually in a real\ncell, and one must sleep there, to conceive anything of the reality of a\nmonastic life.\n\nTo awake here in the morning; to rise and eat, alone, the food which\ncomes to you through a little wicket, like that of a prisoner; to meet,\nwhen one traverses the cloister, other shadows who salute you in silence;\nto go from the church to the cell, from the cell to the church, and to\nsay to one\u2019s self that it is always and always to be the same!\n\nAlways!\u2026 All through life; or rather, there is no more life, no more\nspace, no more time. It is the beginning of eternity. One is on the\nthreshold of the infinite, and it seems as if all this nature had only\nbeen created to give these men a beginning of eternal repose.\n\nAlways alone! The thought crushes one. No more to receive anything from\nwithout; to nourish one\u2019s self with spiritualities alone; to meditate,\ncontemplate, and pray. To pray always: \u2026 to pray for those who never pray\nthemselves; to pray for those who have shattered your life, and who, may\nbe, have led you hither; \u2026 to pray for those who have despoiled your\nmonastery and outraged your habit--even for the impious ones who come to\ninsult you in your very hospitality! And for all this one thing alone\nsuffices: faith.\n\nA bell has rung; it is the hour of Matins. Some one knocks at my door. I\nopen, and they conduct me to the little stall reserved for travellers.\nAt first the obscurity is so great that it is difficult to distinguish\nanything. The church is empty, and none of the tapers are lighted. Then\na door opens in the distance, and the monks enter in procession, each\nholding a long dark-lantern, of which the slanting gleams dimly lessen\nthe darkness of the chapel. They repair to their stalls, and the Office\nbegins.\n\nIt consists principally of a monotonous psalmody of an implacable rhythm,\nof which one scarcely perceives the first murmurs, and which seems as if\nit would never end. I gaze at these tall white figures, these motionless\nheads.\u2026 What has been the drama of life to each one? What changes,\nwithout and within, have led them there? What have they suffered? And do\nthey suffer still? What has the rule of their order done for them?--and\nstill the psalmody goes on.\n\nAt times they rise, uttering what seems to be a sort of lamentation; then\nthey fall prostrate, with their arms stretched out before them; all the\nlights disappear; there is nothing but darkness and silence; it seems as\nif man himself were extinguished. After which the lights reappear, the\npsalmody recommences, and thus it continues.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nWhen the rising sun shone upon the summits of the rocks, I rose from my\npallet, exclaiming: \u201cThe light at last! Hail to the light!\u201d I open my\nwindow and look out.\u2026 There is no other place like this; such as it was\nin the night, such is it in the day. In vain may the sun mount above the\nhorizon to bring warmth into this gorge--the monastery remains cold and,\nas it were, insensible; in vain his rays dart upon the walls, glitter on\nthe spires, and set the rocks on fire.\u2026 There are living men, but one\ndoes not see them, one does not hear them; only a wagon drawn by oxen\ncrosses the meadow, followed by a monk, and some beggars are approaching\nthe monastery gate.\n\nThen, without guide or direction, I plunge into the forest in search of\nthe Chapel of S. Bruno. This forest is of incomparable beauty; neither\nSwitzerland nor the Pyrenees contain anything like it. Prodigious trees\nrise to an immense height, wrapping their gigantic roots about the\nrocks. In the midst of the waters which murmur on every side unknown\nvegetations luxuriate, sheltering at their feet a world of ferns, tall\ngrass, and mosses, every dewy feather and spray being hung, as it were,\nwith precious stones, upon which the sun darts here and there rays of\ngold and touches of fire. There is here a wild enchantment which neither\npen nor pencil ever can depict; and in the midst of these marvels rises,\nfrom a rock, the Chapel of S. Bruno. There it was that the visions\nappeared to him, and there he caused a spring of water to flow forth;\nbut to me the most wonderful of all the miracles of his legend was\nthat of his getting there at all--the fact of his reaching the foot of\nthis desert, hatchet in hand, cutting down the trees which barred his\nentrance, wrestling with wild animals, the masters of this forest, and\nhaving no other pathway than the torrent\u2019s bed; ever mounting upwards,\nin spite of the streams, in spite of the rocks, in spite of everything;\nnever finding himself lost enough, but ever struggling higher and higher\nstill. The miracle is, too, that of his having fixed himself at last upon\nthat spot, and to have called companions around him, who constructed each\nhis little hermitage about his own; that of having, in God\u2019s name, taken\npossession of these inaccessible mountains, all of which are surmounted\nby a cross, and to have founded an order which spread itself over the\nwhole Christian world, and which is still existing.\n\nBut the hour of departure has arrived. At the moment of quitting this\nsolitude we again reflect. France and Italy lie spread out beneath our\nfeet; \u2026 that is to say, passions, hatred, strife.\u2026 Why should we descend\nagain? Why resume the burden of ambitions, rivalries, the harness of\nsocial conventionalities? To what purpose is it, since the end at last\nmust come alike to all?\n\nWe look around, we reflect, and then, after having well meditated, we all\ndescend.\n\nAt the foot of the desert we find again huts, then cottages, by and by a\nvillage. With movement and life we find our speech again, and with speech\ndiscussion. Overwhelmed until then by the wild beauty of all around us\nand by the majesty of its silence, the sceptics only now recommence the\ncriticisms which were cut short the evening before: \u201cWhat services do\nthese monks render to mankind? To what purpose do they bury themselves\nupon those heights, when there is so much to be done below?\u201d\n\nI answer nothing. These are difficult questions. Later we shall know\nwhich has chosen the better part, those who act or those who pray; only\nI remember that whilst thirty thousand Israelites were fighting in the\nplain, Moses, alone on the mountain, with his arms stretched out towards\nheaven, implored the God of armies. When his arms fell through weariness,\nthe Amalekites prevailed; and when he raised them, Israel was victorious;\nand seeing this, he caused his arms to be supported, until the enemies of\nIsrael were overcome.\n\nWhile we are debating we cross Saint Laurent, Les Echelles, and the\nValley du Guiers. Here is Chamb\u00e9ry _en f\u00eate_, with its flags, its\nconcourse of _francs-tireurs_, and bands of music; but although we have\nreturned to outer life, we have brought away with us something of the\nsolitude we have left, where it seems as if the earth ended.\n\nBelieve me, reader, and do not forget my words when you visit these\nlands. The sight of La Grande Chartreuse is one of the most powerful\nemotions here below. To whatever religion you may belong, if your soul\ncan be moved by the thought of the life to come, you will preserve an\nimperishable remembrance of a night spent in this monastery, and will\nfeel that you are not altogether the same man that you were when you\nentered its walls.\n\n\nNEW PUBLICATIONS.\n\n    LES ETATS-UNIS CONTEMPORAINS, OU LES M\u0152URS, LES INSTITUTIONS ET\n    LES IDEES DEPUIS LA GUERRE DE LA SECESSION. Par Claudio Jannet.\n    Ouvrage pr\u00e9c\u00e9d\u00e9 d\u2019une Lettre de M. Le Play. Paris: E. Plon.\n    1876.\n\nThe author of this volume has read carefully and seriously a large number\nof works, by different American, French, and English writers, devoted\nto an explanation of the institutions of the United States, and to the\nhistory and social condition of the country. He shows also a remarkable\nacquaintance with the magazines and newspapers of the United States, so\nfar as they bear on the subjects of which he treats. His book, indeed,\nmust have cost him years of assiduous labor.\n\nM. Jannet gives a just and impartial exposition of the laws and political\nprinciples of our country, as also of its present social condition.\nRarely, if ever, has a foreigner displayed so conscientious a study of\nall that goes to make up American civilization. He professes to have\nentered upon his study and his work without any preconceived theory--a\nprofession not unusual with authors, and for the most part, probably,\nhonestly made. It is one thing, however, to profess, another thing to\nadhere to the profession. Were it possible for authors to adhere strictly\nto the profession made by M. Jannet, literature and all of which it\ntreats would certainly not suffer therefrom: But he who imagines he has\nattained to so just and fair a position is the least free from illusion.\nThe position is simply unattainable, and M. Jannet is scarcely to be\nblamed if he has not quite reached his ideal.\n\nTwo classes of authors have written about the United States. The one\nsees almost everything in _couleur de rose_, the other in a sombre hue.\nM. Jannet belongs to the latter class. Throughout his volume he fastens\nupon every symptom that threatens the existence or the welfare of the\nrepublic. As an enumeration of these symptoms it is exact, and its\nperusal would do no harm to our spread-eagle orators.\n\nM. Jannet has evidently aimed at counterbalancing the influence of\nwriters, French writers particularly, who have exaggerated the good\nside of American political society. He seems fearful lest their tone of\nthought should have too great a preponderance in France, and influence\nits present transition-state too powerfully in the direction of the\nUnited States. Whether or not this was called for is not a question\nfor us to consider. The book, regarded as an impartial exposition of\nthe present condition of the United States, resembles the picture of\nan artist, the background of which is painted with a Preraphaelite\nexactness, while the foreground is left unfinished, and the whole work,\nconsequently, incomplete. Had the obvious purpose of the book been\nproclaimed at the beginning, we should have read it with a more favorable\neye.\n\nIn his last chapter, however, M. Jannet holds out some hope for the\nfuture of the American Republic. In our present commercial depression,\nin the recent success of the Democratic party, in the number of families\nwho have preserved the primitive virtues and customs of our forefathers,\nand in the progress of Catholicity he sees a ground for this hope,\nand concludes his work by saying: \u201cMen are everywhere prosperous or\nunfortunate, according as they observe or despise the divine law. All\ntheir free will consists in choosing between these two terms of the\nproblem of life, and all the efforts of the spirit of innovation only\nbreak against, without ever being able to destroy, the eternal bounds\nset by God to the ambitious feebleness of the creature. Therein lies the\nlesson that the young republic of the New World sends from beyond the\nocean and across the mirage of its rapid prosperity to the old nations\nof Europe, too inclined to believe in the sophisms of the great modern\nerror, and to mistrust their own traditions.\u201d\n\nM. Jannet\u2019s work is worthy of a more extended notice, which will be given\nit at a later date. The book may be ordered directly from the publisher\nin France.\n\n    THE PUBLIC LIFE OF OUR LORD. II. Preaching of the Beatitudes.\n    By H. J. Coleridge, S.J. London: Burns & Oates. 1875. (New\n    York: Sold by The Catholic Publication Society.)\n\nThis is a new volume in the series which is intended, when complete, to\ninclude the entire life of Jesus Christ. We have already commended the\npreceding volume, and can only, at present, renew the expression of our\nconcurrence in the unanimous verdict of competent judges, which awards a\nvery high meed of praise to Father Coleridge\u2019s work, so far as it is as\nyet given to the public.\n\nIt is likely to become extensive when fully completed, since the present\nvolume is filled up with the author\u2019s introductory remarks on the\nmissionary life of Our Lord, and the exposition of one portion of the\nSermon on the Mount--to wit, the Beatitudes. It is a work which is,\nstrictly speaking, _sui generis_ in our language, and indeed in all\nmodern literature, and one hard to describe in such a way as to give\nan accurate notion of its quality and scope to a person who has not\nread some portion of its contents. The author has drawn from the most\nvarious and from the purest sources, and has himself meditated in a very\nattentive and minute manner upon the rich materials furnished him by the\nsacred lore of his studies. He proceeds leisurely, quietly, carefully,\nlike the patient illuminator of a manuscript text, filling his pages with\nlarge and small figures, all elaborately finished. The present volume\ngives us a sketch of Galilee, the scene of the preaching and miracles of\nour divine Redeemer during his first year of public ministry, which makes\nat once the idea of that ministry, of its extraordinary laboriousness,\nits extent, and the multitude of wonderful works comprehended within its\nbrief period, ten times more vivid than it can be made by a mere perusal\nof the Gospel narrative. In this respect it is especially interesting and\ninstructive for those who are themselves engaged in missionary labors. We\nhave a picture placed before our minds of the real nature of Our Lord\u2019s\npublic life and ministry, and grouped around it are other pictures, as\nillustrations, from the lives of the great missionary saints. When the\nauthor approaches to his principal theme in this volume--the Sermon on\nthe Mount--he makes the whole scene and all its circumstances appear\nbefore us like a fine dioramic view. He is not, however, of that\nmeretricious school to which Renan and Beecher have given a false and\nmomentary _\u00e9clat_, as unworthy of the divine subject as the homage of\nanother class of witnesses on whom Our Lord frequently imposed silence.\nThe poetic, literary, and picturesque charms of Father Coleridge\u2019s style\nare subservient to his theological, doctrinal, and moral exposition of\nsacred truths. It is the pure doctrine of the Scriptures, and of the\nfathers, doctors, and saints of the church, which we are invited and\nallured to drink from the ornamented chalice.\n\n    THE HOLY WAYS OF THE CROSS; OR, A SHORT TREATISE ON THE VARIOUS\n    TRIALS AND AFFLICTIONS, INTERIOR AND EXTERIOR, TO WHICH THE\n    SPIRITUAL LIFE IS SUBJECT, AND THE MEANS OF MAKING A GOOD USE\n    THEREOF. Translated from the French of Henri-Marie Boudon,\n    Archdeacon of Evreux. By Edward Healy Thompson, M.A. London:\n    Burns, Oates & Co. 1875. (New York: Sold by The Catholic\n    Publication Society.)\n\nWhoever, after reading the title of this book, thinks that a treatise of\nthis kind would be useful and helpful, and wishes to find such a book\nas may really do the service promised by the title, will probably be\nsatisfied with the book itself. It is standard and approved, and has been\nwell translated by Mr. Thompson, whose preface contains some excellent\nand timely remarks of his own.\n\n    THE STORY OF S. PETER. By W. D. S. London: Burns & Oates. 1875.\n    (New York: Sold by The Catholic Publication Society.)\n\nThis little book purports to be a simple sketch of the life of the\nPrince of the Apostles. It will serve to recall the principal events in\nhis life, and therefore will possess a certain amount of interest for\nCatholic readers. The binding, type, and paper are neat and elegant.\nThe object of the book is evidently pious, and therefore we shrink from\ncriticising it too minutely. The style also is pleasing and readable.\nIt is to be regretted, however, that the author did not take a little\nmore pains with his task. It is a good thing to have plenty of books\non Catholic subjects; and those who are gifted with power, and who can\ncommand the leisure, are, to a certain extent, bound to write. But they\nare also bound to study consistency and order, and, in sending forth\ntheir productions, to show a proper respect for those who are expected to\nbuy them. Good-will does not excuse slovenliness, and we heartily wish\nthat \u201cW. D. S.\u201d had shown a deeper sense of this truth. The fact that a\nbook is small and easily read does not free the writer from a thorough\nanalysis of his subject and employment of all sources of information\nregarding it. The present work is serviceable as an introduction to a\nreal treatise on the position and office of S. Peter. It is nothing more;\nand we are sorry that it is not.\n\n    LEHRBUCH DES KATHOLISCHEN UND PROTESTANTISCHEN KIRCHENRECHTS.\n    Von Dr. Friedrich H. Vering. Herder, Freiburg. 1875.\n\nA number of the most learned Catholic theologians of Germany have\ncombined together to prepare a complete theological library. The present\nvolume on canon law makes the fifth thus far issued. This library is one\nwhich will be very valuable to German priests or those who read German.\nThe names of Hergenr\u00f6ther, Scheeben, and other writers of similar rank\nwho are contributors sufficiently guarantee its excellence.\n\n    ACTA ET DECRETA CONCILII VATICANI. Collectio Lacensis, tom.\n    iii. Herder, Freiburg. 1875.\n\nThese and other publications of the Herder publishing house are imported\nby the enterprising firm of the Benzigers. The first is a convenient\nand carefully edited text of the acts of the Vatican Council, to which\nis appended a list of all the episcopal sees and prelatures called\n_nullius_ in the entire Catholic Church. The second is one portion of the\nmagnificent collection of modern councils published at Maria-Laach, and\ncontains the acts of British and North American councils held during the\npast century, or, to speak more precisely, from 1789 to 1869.\n\n    CALDERON\u2019S GROESSTE DRAMEN RELIGIOESEN INHALTS. Uebersetzt von\n    Dr. F. Lorinser. 3d vol. Herder, Freiburg. 1875.\n\nWe cannot speak from personal knowledge of the merit of this translation.\nReaders of German literature who cannot read Calderon in the original\nwill no doubt be pleased to find some of his great dramas in a German\ndress, and be sufficiently interested in them to ascertain for themselves\nhow far the great poet has been successfully reproduced.\n\n    VOLKSTHUEMLICHES AUS SCHWABEN. Von Dr. Anton Birlinger. Herder,\n    Freiburg. 1861.\n\nWe have here in two volumes a miscellaneous collection of every kind of\n_folk-lore_, in prose and verse, mostly very short pieces which must be\nvery amusing for children and others who like to entertain themselves\nwith curious odds and ends of this sort.\n\n    THE SACRIFICE OF THE EUCHARIST, AND OTHER DOCTRINES OF THE\n    CATHOLIC CHURCH EXPLAINED AND VINDICATED. By the Rev. Charles\n    B. Garside. London: Burns & Oates. 1875. (New York: Sold by The\n    Catholic Publication Society.)\n\nThis is a very thoughtful and learned treatise on the Sacrifice of the\nMass, and, though not directly controversial, it is a very lucid and\nsatisfactory vindication of the Catholic doctrine on the Holy Eucharist\nconsidered as a sacrifice.\n\nThe volume contains also essays on \u201cDefinitions of the Catholic faith,\nExistence of the church in relation to Scripture, Tradition as a vehicle\nof Christian doctrine, The Atonement and Purgatory,\u201d and other subjects,\nall of them well written, and some, such as the one on \u201cDefinitions of\nthe Catholic Faith,\u201d occupied with discussion of questions which are\nfrequently talked of at the present, and upon which it is important to\nhave clear and accurate notions.\n\n    THE PERSECUTIONS OF ANNAM: A History of Christianity in Cochin\n    China and Tonking. By J. R. Shortland, M.A. London: Burns\n    & Oates. 1875. (New York: Sold by The Catholic Publication\n    Society.)\n\nWe read an account a few days since of four hundred Catholic priests who\nfour years ago were transported from Poland to Siberia by the Russian\ngovernment; three hundred have died, and the others can survive but a\nlittle while. It was only a paragraph in a newspaper. The martyrs die as\nof old, and we scarcely hear of their sufferings. The missionary work\nof the church, too, is almost forgotten by her children who are living\nat ease and in comfort; and yet it is carried on in all quarters of the\nglobe. Our brothers, if we be worthy to call them by this name, are\ntoiling, suffering, dying for Christ and the souls of men in far-off\ncountries of which we seem not to care even to know anything. Here is a\nbook, most interesting and consoling, full of edifying facts and heroic\nexamples, written clearly and simply. It is a history of Christianity\nin Cochin China and Tonking; and as these two countries form the Empire\nof Annam, and the history of the church is always one of persecution,\nof triumph through suffering, the book is entitled _The Persecutions of\nAnnam_. For centuries Europeans have been excluded from this country,\ninto the interior of which the only strangers who have penetrated have\nbeen Catholic missionaries, and they have gone at the risk of their\nlives. For two hundred and fifty years the apostles of the church\nhave been laboring in Annam, and whoever will read this book will be\nstruck with wonder at the work they have done and the sufferings they\nhave endured. Never anywhere have there been more barbarous or cruel\npersecutions, and never have they been borne with more heroic fortitude\nand simple trust in God.\n\nAnd then what a wealth of instruction in the lives of these Annamite\nconverts! From 1615 down to our own day thousands and hundreds of\nthousands have received the faith, and, rather than forfeit it, hundreds\nand thousands have endured every torment, death itself. Their warm piety,\ntheir intelligent faith, their dauntless courage, put us to shame.\n\nThe last persecution broke out in 1858, and raged until the Christians\nwere relieved by the arms of France, in consequence of which a treaty\nof peace was signed in June, 1862, which was soon followed by a decree\ngranting religious worship; and we may hope that the soil which has drunk\nthe blood of so many martyrs will yet become the vineyard of Christ.\n\nBut we must refer our readers to the book itself, and close this brief\nnotice with the wish that some one of our Catholic houses in this country\nmay republish this most interesting chapter of Catholic history.\n\n    THE AMERICAN STATE AND AMERICAN STATESMEN. By William Giles\n    Dix. 1 vol. 12mo, pp. 171. Boston: Estes & Lauriat. 1876.\n\nIt is refreshing in these days to meet with a non-Catholic writer like\nMr. Dix, who takes his stand on Christianity and the law of Christ as\nthe foundation of all right law and government. There is a class, and\na large class, of patriots among us who seem, unconsciously indeed, to\nresent the idea that Almighty God had anything at all to do with the\ngrowth and development of this country. To this class of men Mr. Dix\u2019s\nbook will be a sharp reminder that there is a God above us who rules\nall things, and that religion and governments did actually exist in the\nworld at large--and in the New World, for the matter of that--before\nthe _Mayflower_ touched these shores. The book deals with just what its\ntitle indicates: the American state and American statesmen. Among the\nstatesmen dealt with are Abraham Lincoln, Charles Sumner, and several of\nthe historic names that have lent a lustre to Congress. But the larger\nand graver portion of the book deals with the constitution of the States\nin themselves and their relation to the States as a whole or nation. Mr.\nDix is a strong and earnest advocate for his views; but his views in the\npresent matter are almost diametrically opposed to the general feeling of\nAmericans. \u201cAre the United States a nation?\u201d he boldly asks in the final\nchapter of the book, and his answer is \u201cyes\u201d and \u201cno.\u201d In a word, he is\nstrongly in favor of the centralization of sovereignty as opposed to the\nlocal independence of States. As long as federalism exists, says Mr. Dix,\npractically, so long is the nation exposed to disorder and a renewal of\nthe civil war.\n\nSo important a question, it is needless to remark, is scarcely to be\nsettled in a book-notice; is, indeed, beyond books altogether. It is\na growth. The country and government alike are a growth, and a growth\nthat will not be forced. They are just entering on the hundredth year\nof a life that has been seriously threatened, and, notwithstanding the\ntheatrical thunder which is being heard just now of politicians resolved\nto make \u201ca hit,\u201d we cannot but look to the development of this growth\nwith hope and confidence. At the same time, it is the part of all who\nare concerned to guard that growth well, to see that no weeds spring\nup around it, to let in light and air and freedom, and to keep off all\nnoxious influences that would threaten the life of the parent stem. In\nthe desire to do this, such chapters as \u201cChristianity the Inspirer of\nNations,\u201d \u201cMaterialism the Curse of America,\u201d and \u201cAmerica a Christian\nPower,\u201d which seem to us the strongest chapters in Mr. Dix\u2019s book, will\nbe found full of eloquent suggestion and sound, even solemn, advice.\nThe book, as a whole, will be found a very interesting one. The writer\nis a bold man, who certainly has the courage of his convictions, which\nhe never hesitates to express openly. The book overruns with apt\nillustration and an extraordinary eloquence. Indeed, there is a fault\nin parts of too great eloquence, compensated for over and over again by\npassages full of terseness, purity, and strength.\n\n    PERSONAL REMINISCENCES BY CONSTABLE AND GILLIES. (Bric-\u00e0-Brac\n    Series.) Edited by Richard Henry Stoddard. New York: Scribner,\n    Armstrong & Co. 1876.\n\nThis volume completes the first Bric-\u00e0-Brac Series. The publishers\nannounce an extensive sale--proof only of its being suited to certain\nliterary tastes. We have not been able to pronounce a very favorable\nopinion upon the merits of the series. In turning over the leaves of a\ncollege sheet the other day, we came upon an extract from the letter of\na young lady at one of our fashionable seminaries, in which, counselling\nher sisters to high resolves and noble aims, she says: \u201cInstead of\ngetting a new hat this term, let us buy a Bric-\u00e0-Brac.\u201d We think this\nis good evidence of the value of these volumes as literary works. They\nare admirably suited for boarding-school misses. But what the authors\nand scholars who are gossiped about would say at being brought down to\nthis level is another question. On the whole, we would advise this young\nlady to buy a new hat instead. The hat will serve a useful if not a very\nexalted purpose in covering her head; the \u201cBric-\u00e0-Brac\u201d will fill it with\nfrivolous and untrustworthy chit-chat.\n\nThis volume treats, under distinct heads, of forty-six persons--including\na majority of the poets, novelists, historians, linguistic scholars, and\nessayists of Scotland at the beginning of this century, with a sprinkling\nof English and German _savants_, including Goethe--in a little over\nthree hundred small duodecimo pages. That is to say, it gives an average\nof seven pages to each author. These seven pages are devoted almost\nexclusively in each instance to trivial personal anecdotes. From this\nsimple inventory, therefore, it will be easy to form an accurate notion\nof what the young lady gains mentally as an equivalent for the loss of\nher new hat.\n\nConsiderable space is given, however, to one or two worthies. Of these,\nWilliam Godwin, the revolutionary propagandist, holds the first place,\nand with him incidentally his first wife, Mary Wollstonecraft, the author\nof the _Vindication of the Rights of Woman_. This precious pair are\nhandled with great tenderness and unction.\n\nThe rest of the volume is made up chiefly of reminiscences of the small\nliterary stars who twinkled round Sir Walter Scott in Edinburgh at the\nbeginning of the century, and stole something from the reflection of his\nbrightness, but who are now for the most part forgotten.\n\n    IN DOORS AND OUT; OR, VIEWS FROM THE CHIMNEY CORNER. By Oliver\n    Optic. Boston: Lee & Shepard. 1876.\n\nExcellent stories, all of which might have been drawn from actual life,\nare to be found in this volume. Like all of Oliver Optic\u2019s books, it may\nbe safely placed in the hands of young people. Some of the sketches, such\nas \u201cGood-for-Nothings,\u201d might be read with as much profit as amusement by\ngrown-up persons, especially those who are continually complaining about\nservant-girls.\n\n\n\n\nTHE CATHOLIC WORLD.\n\nVOL. XXII., No. 132.--MARCH, 1876.\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\nA SEQUEL OF THE GLADSTONE CONTROVERSY.\n\nII\n\nOne of the most mischievous prejudices of our day is the popular theory\nthat the cure for all evils is to be sought in the intellectual education\nof the masses. Those nations, we are told by every declaimer, in which\nthe education of the people is most universal, are the most moral, the\nrichest, the strongest, the freest, and their prosperity rests upon the\nmost solid and lasting foundation. Make ignorance a crime, teach all to\nread and write, and war will smooth its rugged front, armies will be\ndisbanded, crime will disappear, and mankind will have found the secret\nof uninterrupted progress, the final outcome of which will surpass even\nour fondest dreams.\n\nThis fallacy, which has not even the merit of being plausible, is,\nof course, made to do service in M. de Laveleye\u2019s pamphlet on the\ncomparative bearing of Protestantism and Catholicism on the prosperity of\nnations.\n\n\u201cIt is now universally admitted,\u201d he informs us (p. 22), \u201cthat the\ndiffusion of enlightenment is the first condition of progress.\u2026 The\ngeneral spread of education is also indispensable to the exercise of\nconstitutional liberty.\u2026 In short, education is the basis of national\nliberty and prosperity.\u201d\n\nHe then goes on to declare that in this matter of popular education\nProtestant countries are far in advance of those that are Catholic;\nthat this is necessarily so, since \u201cthe Reformed religion rests on a\nbook--the Bible; the Protestant, therefore, must know how to read.\nCatholic worship, on the contrary, rests upon sacraments and certain\npractices--such as confession, Masses, sermons--which do not necessarily\ninvolve reading. It is, therefore, unnecessary to know how to read;\nindeed, it is dangerous, for it inevitably shakes the principle of\npassive obedience on which the whole Catholic edifice reposes: reading is\nthe road that leads to heresy.\u201d\n\nWe will first consider the theory, and then take up the facts.\n\n\u201cThe diffusion of enlightenment is the first condition of progress.\nEducation is indispensable to the exercise of constitutional liberty.\nEducation is the basis of national liberty and prosperity.\u201d\n\nEnlightenment is, of course, of the mind, and means the development, more\nor less perfect, of the intellectual faculties; and education, since it\nis here considered as synonymous with enlightenment, must be taken in\nthis narrow sense.\n\nProgress is material, moral, intellectual, social, political, artistic,\nreligious, scientific, literary, and indefinitely manifold. Now, it is\nassumed that the diffusion of enlightenment is not merely promotive, but\nthat it is an essential condition of progress in its widest and fullest\nmeaning. This is the new faith--the goddess of culture, holding the torch\nof science and leading mankind into the palace of pleasure, the only true\nheaven.\n\nBy conduct, we have already said, both individuals and nations are saved\nor perish; and we spoke of the civilized. Barbarous states are destroyed\nby catastrophes--they die a violent death; but the civilized are wasted\nby internal maladies--_suis et ipsa Roma viribus ruit_. They grow and\nthey decay, they progress and they decline. At first poverty, virtue,\nindustry, faith, hopefulness, strong characters and heroic natures; at\nlast wealth, corruption, indolence, unbelief, despair, children too weak\neven to admire the strength of their fathers, too base to believe that\nthey were noble. Public spirit dies out; patriotism is in the mouths\nof politicians, but, like the augurs of Rome, they cannot speak the\nword and look one another in the face. The country is to each one what\nhe can make out of it, and the bond of union is the desire of each\ncitizen to secure his own interests. The bondholders love their country,\nand the _sans-culottes_ are disloyal; class rises against class, civil\ndiscord unsettles everything, revolution succeeds revolution, and when\nthe barbarian comes he holds an inquest over the corpse. It generally\nhappens, too, that those civilizations which spring up quickest and\npromise most fair are fated to die earliest; as precocious children\ndisappoint fond mothers. If the teaching of history is a trustworthy\nguide, we are certainly safe in affirming that civilized states and\nempires perish, not from lack of knowledge, but of virtue; not because\nthe people are ignorant, but because they are corrupt.\n\nThe assumption, however, is that men become immoral because they are\nignorant; that if they were enlightened, they would be virtuous.\n\n\u201cThe superstition,\u201d says Herbert Spencer (_Study of Sociology_, p. 121),\n\u201cthat good behavior is to be forthwith produced by lessons learned out\nof books, which was long ago statistically disproved, would, but for\npreconceptions, be utterly dissipated by observing to what a slight\nextent knowledge affects conduct; by observing that the dishonesty\nimplied in the adulterations of tradesmen and manufacturers, in\nfraudulent bankruptcies, in bubble-companies, in \u2018cooking\u2019 of railway\naccounts and financial prospectuses, differs only in form, and not in\namount, from the dishonesty of the uneducated; by observing how amazingly\nlittle the teachings given to medical students affect their lives, and\nhow even the most experienced medical men have their prudence scarcely at\nall increased by their information.\u201d\n\nIt is not knowledge, but character, that is important; and character\nis formed more by faith, by hope, by love, admiration, enthusiasm,\nreverence, than by any patchwork of alphabetical and arithmetical\nsymbols. The young know but little; but they believe firmly, they hope\nnobly, and love generously; and it is while knowledge is feeble and these\nspontaneous acts of the soul are strong that character is moulded. The\ncurse of our age is that men will believe that, in education, to spell,\nto read, to write, is what signifies, and they cast aside the eternal\nfaith, the infinite hope, the divine love, that more than all else make\nus men.\n\n\u201cThe true test of civilization,\u201d says Emerson, \u201cis not the census, nor\nthe size of cities, nor the crops--no, but the kind of man the country\nturns out.\u201d Is there some mystic virtue in printed words that to be\nable to read them should make us men? And even in the most enlightened\ncountries what do the masses of men know? Next to nothing; and their\nreading, for the most part, stupefies them. The newspaper, with its\nmurders, suicides, hangings, startling disclosures, defalcations,\nembezzlements, burglaries, forgeries, adulteries, advertisements of\nnostrums, quack medicines, and secrets of working death in the very\nsource of life, with all manner of hasty generalizations, crude theories,\nand half-truths jumbled into intellectual _pot-pourris_; the circulating\nlibrary, with its stories, tales, romances of love, despair, death, of\nharrowing accidents, of hair-breadth escapes, of successful crime, and\nall the commonplaces of wild, reckless, and unnatural life--these are the\nsources of their knowledge. Or, if they are ambitious, they read \u201cHow to\nget on in the world,\u201d \u201cThe art of making money,\u201d \u201cThe secret of growing\nrich,\u201d \u201cThe road to wealth,\u201d \u201cSuccessful men,\u201d \u201cThe millionaires of\nAmerica,\u201d and the Mammon-worship, and the superstition of matter, and the\nidolatry of success become their religion; their souls die within them,\nand what wretched slaves they grow to be!\n\nIn the newspaper and circulating library God and man, heaven and\nearth--all things--are discussed, flippantly, in snatches, generally;\nall possible conflicting and contradictory views are taken; and these\nignorant masses, who, in the common schools, have been through the Fourth\nReader, and who know nothing, not even their own ignorance, are confused.\nThey doubt, they lose faith, and are enlightened by the discovery that\nGod, the soul, truth, justice, honor, are only nominal--they do not\nconcern positivists. Can anything be more pitiful than the state of these\npoor wretches?--neither knowing nor believing; without knowledge, yet\nhaving neither faith nor love. God pity them that they are communists,\ninternationalists, _solidaires_; for what else could they be? No\nenthusiasm is possible for them but that of destruction.\n\nReligion is the chief element in civilization, and consequently in\nprogress. For the masses of men, even though the whole energy of mankind\nshould spend itself upon some or any possible common-school system,\nthe eternal principles which mould character, support manhood, and\nconsecrate humanity will always remain of faith, and can never be held\nscientifically. If it were possible that science should prove religion\nfalse, it would none the less remain true, or there would be no truth.\n\nWhat children know when they leave school is mechanical, external to\ntheir minds, fitted on them like clothes on the body; and it is soon\nworn threadbare, and hangs in shreds and patches. Take the first boy\nwhom you meet, fourteen or fifteen years old, fresh from the common\nschool, and his ignorance of all real knowledge will surprise you. What\nhe knows is little and of small value; what is of moment is whether he\nbelieves firmly, hopes strongly, and loves truly. Not the diffusion of\nenlightenment do we want so much, but the diffusion of character, of\nhonest faith, and manly courage.\n\nMan is more than his knowledge. Simple faith is better than reading and\nwriting. And yet the educational quacks treat the child as though he were\nmere mind, and his sole business to use it, and chiefly for low ends,\nshrewdly and sharply, with a view to profit; as though life were a thing\nof barter, and wisdom the art of making the most of it.\n\nPoor child! who wouldst live by admiration, hope, and love, how they\ndwarf thy being, stunt thy growth, and flatten all thy soaring thoughts\nwith their dull commonplaces--thrift, honesty is the best policy, time is\nmoney, knowledge is wealth, and all the vocabulary of a shop-keeping and\ntrading philosophy. Poor child! who wouldst look out into the universe\nas God\u2019s great temple, and behold in all its glories the effulgence of\nheaven; to whom morning, noon, and night, and change of season, golden\nflood of day and star-lit gloom, all speak of some diviner life, how they\nstun thy poetic soul, full of high dreams and noble purposes, with their\ncold teaching that man lives on bread alone--put money in thy purse! And\nwhen thou wouldst look back with awe and reverence to the sacred ages\npast, to the heroes, sages, saints of the olden times, they come with\ntheir gabble and tell thee there were no railroads and common schools in\nthose days.\n\nIs it strange that this education should hurt the nation\u2019s highest\ninterests by driving in crowds, like cattle to the shambles, our youths\nfrom God and nature and tilling of the soil to town and city, or, worse,\ninto professions to which only their conceit or distaste for hard labor\ncalls them? What place for morality is there in this Poor Richard\u2019s\nCatechism--education of thrift and best policy? We grow in likeness to\nwhat we love, not to what we know. With low aims and selfish loves only\nnarrow and imperfect characters are compatible.\n\nScience, when cherished for itself--which it seldom is and in very\nexceptional cases--refines and purifies its lovers, and chastens the\nforce of passion; though even here we must admit that the wisest of\nmankind may be the meanest, morally the most unworthy. But for the great\nmass of men, even of those who are called educated, the possession of\nsuch knowledge as they have or can have has no necessary relation with\nhigher moral life. Their learning may refine, smooth over, or conceal\ntheir sin; it will not destroy it. The furred gown and intertissued robe\nhide the faults that peep through beggars\u2019 rags, but they are there all\nthe same. There may be a substitution of pride for sensuality, or a\nskilful blending or alternation of the finer with the coarser. Vice may\nlose its grossness, but not its evil. And herein we detect the wretched\nsophistry of criminal statistics, which deal, imperfectly and roughly\nenough, with what is open, shocking, and repulsive. The hidden sins\nthat \u201clike pitted speck in garnered fruit,\u201d slowly eating to the core\nof a people\u2019s life, moulder all; the sapping of faith, the weakening of\ncharacter, the disbelief in goodness; the luxury, the indulgence, the\nheartlessness and narrowness of the rich; the cunning devices through\nwhich \u201cthe spirit of murder\u201d works in the very means of life,\n\n    \u201cWhile rank corruption, mining all within,\n    Infects unseen\u201d\n\n--cannot be appreciated by the gross tests of numbers and averages. The\npoor, by statistics as by the world, are handled without gloves. In the\nlarge cities of civilized countries, both in ancient and in modern times,\nwe have unmistakable proof of what knowledge can do to form character\nand produce even the social virtues. These populations have had the\nadvantage of the best schools in the most favorable circumstances, and\nyet in character and morality they are far beneath the less educated\npeasantry. Sensual indulgence, contempt of authority, hatred and jealousy\nof those above them, make these the dangerous classes, eager for\nsocialistic reforms, radical upheavals of the whole existing order; and\nwere it not for the more religious tillers of the soil, chaos and misrule\nwould already prevail. In Greece and Rome it was in the cities that\ncivilization first perished, as it was there it began--began with men\nwho had great faith and strong character, but little knowledge; perished\namong men who were learned and refined, but who in indulgence and debauch\nhad lost all strength and honesty of purpose.\n\nIn the last report of the Commissioner of Education some interesting\nfacts, bearing on the relation of ignorance to crime, are taken from the\nForty-fifth Annual Report of the inspector of the State penitentiary for\nthe Eastern District of Pennsylvania.\n\n\u201cIt is doubted if in any State, or indeed in any country,\u201d says the\ncommissioner, \u201cforty-four volumes containing the annual statistical\ntables relating to the populations of a penal institution, covering\nnearly half a century, can, on examination, be regarded as more complete.\u201d\n\nThe number of prisoners received into the institution from 1850 to 1860\nwas 1,605, of whom 15 per cent. were illiterate, 15 per cent. were able\nto read, and 70 per cent., or more than two-thirds, knew how to read\nand write; from 1860 to 1870, 2,383 prisoners were received into the\npenitentiary, and of these 17 per cent. were illiterate, 12 per cent.\ncould read, and about 71 per cent. could read and write.\n\nOf the 627 convicts who were in the penitentiary during the year 1867, 62\nper cent., or five-eighths of the whole number, had attended the public\nschools of the State, 25 per cent., or two-eighths, had gone to private\ninstitutions, and 12 per cent., or one-eighth, had never gone to school.\n\nBut, as we have said, statistics deal with crime, and chiefly with the\nmore open and discoverable sort, not with morality; whereas nations are\ndestroyed not so much by crime as by immorality.\n\nThe thief is caught and sent to the penitentiary; but the trader\nwho adulterates or gives short measure, the banker who puts forth\na false or exaggerated statement, the merchant who fails with full\nhands, the stock-gambler who robs thousands, Cr\u00e9dit-Mobilier men and\n\u201cring\u201d men generally who plunder scientifically, Congressmen who take\nmoney for helping to swindle the government, getters-up of \u201cbubble\ncompanies\u201d--salted diamond-fields and Emma Mines--compared with whom\npickpockets and burglars are respectable gentlemen--these know not of\npenitentiaries; prisons were not built for such as they. The poor man\nabandons his wife, without divorce marries another, and is very properly\nsent to State prison. His rich and educated fellow-citizen gets a\ndivorce, or is a free-lover, or keeps a harem, and for him laws were not\nmade. Even that respectable old dame Society only gently shakes her head.\nWe must not expect too much of gentlemen, you know. The ignorant girl\nfalls, commits infanticide, and is incarcerated or hanged--heaven forbid\nthat we should attempt to tell what she would have done had she been\neducated!--at any rate, she would not have gone to prison, though her\nguilt would not have been less.\n\nHas the very great diffusion of enlightenment among our people during\nthe hundred years that we have been an independent nation made them more\nmoral and more worthy?\n\n\u201cThe true test of civilization is not the census, nor the size of cities,\nnor the crops--no, but the kind of man the country turns out.\u201d\n\nThe Yankee is smarter than the Puritan--is he as true a man? Is the\ninventor of a sewing-machine or a patent bedstead as worthy as he who\nbelieves in God and in liberty against the whole earth with all his\nheart and soul, even though the heart be hard and the soul narrow? What\ncompensation is there in all our philanthropies, transcendentalisms,\nsentimentalities, patent remedies for social evils, for the loss of the\nstrong convictions, reverent belief, and simple dignity of character\nthat made our fathers men? Do we believe in the goodness and honesty\nof men as they did, or is it possible that we should? What can come of\nbeliefs in oversouls, whims, tendencies, abstractions, developments? If\nwe were shadows in a shadow-land, this might do.\n\nLook at a famous trial where the very aroma and fine essence of our\ncivilization was gathered: What bright minds, keen intellects! Poetry,\neloquence, romance; the culture, the knowledge, the scientific theories,\nof the age--all are there. And yet, when the veil is lifted, we simply\nturn away heart sick and nauseated. Not a hundred statistical prison\nreports would reveal the festering corruption and deep depravity, the\ncoarse vulgarity and utter heartlessness that is there, whatever the\ntruth may be, if in such surroundings it can be found at all.\n\nIn Laing\u2019s _Notes of a Traveller_ (p. 221) we find a most striking\nexample of almost incredible corruption united with great intellectual\nculture. \u201cIn this way,\u201d he says, \u201cwe must account for the singular fact\nthat the only positively immoral religious sect of the present times in\nthe Christian world arose and has spread itself in the most educated\npart of the most educated country in Europe--in and about K\u00f6nigsberg,\nthe capital of the province of Old Prussia. The Muckers are a sect\nwho combine lewdness with religion. The conventicles of this sect are\nfrequented by men and women in a state of nudity; and to excite the\nanimal passion, but to restrain its indulgence, is said to constitute\ntheir religious exercise. Many of the highest nobility of the province,\nand two of the established clergy of the city, besides citizens,\nartificers, and ladies, old and young, belong to this sect; and two\nyoung ladies are stated to have died from the consequences of excessive\nlibidinous excitement. It is no secret association of profligacy\nshunning the light. It is a sect--according to the declarations of Von\nTippelskirch and of several persons of consideration in K\u00f6nigsberg who\nhad been followers of it themselves--existing very extensively under the\nleadership of the established ministers of the Gospel, Ebel and Diestel,\nof a Count von Kaniz, of a Lady von S----, and of other noble persons.\u2026\nThe system and theory of this dreadful combination of vice with religion\nare, of course, very properly suppressed.\u2026 The sect itself appears, by\nDr. Bretscheider\u2019s account of it, to have been so generally diffused that\nhe says \u2018it cannot be believed that the public functionaries were in\nignorance of its existence; but they were afraid to do their duty from\nthe influence of the many principal people who were involved in it.\u2019\u201d\n\nBut we are not the advocates of ignorance. We will praise with any man\nthe true worth and inestimable value of education. Even mere mental\ntraining is, to our thinking, of rare price. Water is good, but without\nbread it will not sustain life. Wine warms and gladdens the heart of man;\nbut if used without care, it maddens and drives to destruction. We are\ncrying out against the folly of the age which would make the school-room\nits church, education its sacrament, and culture its religion. It is the\nroad to ruin. Culture is for the few; and what a trumpery patchwork of\nfrippery and finery and paste diamonds it must ever remain for the most\nof these! For the millions it means the pagan debauch, the bacchanal\norgy, and mere animalism.\n\n\u201cThe characters,\u201d wrote Goethe--who was pagan of the pagans and\n\u201cdecidirter Nicht-Christ\u201d--\u201cwhich we can truly respect have become\nrarer. We can sincerely esteem only that which is not self-seeking.\u2026 I\nmust confess to have found through my whole life unselfish characters\nof the kind of which I speak only there where I found a firmly-grounded\nreligious life; a creed, which had an unchangeable basis, resting upon\nitself--not dependent upon the time, its spirit, or its science.\u201d\n\nThis foundation of a positive religious faith is as indispensable to\nnational as to individual character, and without it the diffusion of\nenlightenment cannot create a great or lasting civilization. Religion\nought to constitute the very essence of all primary education. It alone\ncan touch the heart, raise the mind, and evoke from their brutish apathy\nthe elements of humanity, especially the reason; and it is therefore the\none indispensable element in any right system of national education.\nA population unable to read or write, but with a religious faith and\ndiscipline, has before now constituted, and may again constitute, a great\nnation; but a people without religious earnestness has no solid political\ncharacter. Religion is the widest and deepest of all the elements of\ncivilization; it reaches those whom nothing else can touch; but for the\nmasses of men there can be no religion without the authoritative teaching\nof a church.\n\nAnd now let us return to M. de Laveleye. \u201cThe general spread of\neducation,\u201d he says (p. 23), \u201cis indispensable to the exercise of\nconstitutional liberty.\u2026 Education is the basis of national liberty and\nprosperity.\u201d\n\nIn view of the facts that constitutional liberty has existed, and for\ncenturies, in states in which there was no \u201cgeneral spread of education,\u201d\nand that \u201cthe diffusion of enlightenment\u201d is found in our own day to\nco-exist with the most hateful despotisms, we might pass on, without\nstopping to examine more closely these loose and popular phrases; but\nsince the fallacies which they contain form a part of the culture-creed\nof modern paganism, and are accepted as indisputable truths by the\nmultitude, they have a claim upon our attention which their assertion by\nMr. Gladstone\u2019s friend could not give them.\n\nThere is no necessary connection between popular education and civil\nliberty, as there is none between the enlightenment and the morality of\na people. This is a subject full of import--one which, in this age and\ncountry, ought to be discussed with perfect freedom and courage. Courage\nindeed is needed precisely here; for to deny that there is a God, to\ntreat Christ as a myth or a common man, to declaim against religion as\nsuperstition, to make the Bible a butt for witticisms and fine points,\nto deny future life and the soul\u2019s immortality, to denounce marriage, to\npreach communism, and to ridicule whatever things mankind have hitherto\nheld sacred--this is not only tolerable, it is praiseworthy and runs\nwith the free thought of an enlightened and inquiring age. But to raise\na doubt as to the supreme and paramount value of intellectual training;\nof its sovereign efficacy in the cure of human ills; of its inseparable\nalliance with freedom, with progress, with man\u2019s best interests, is\npernicious heresy, and ought not to be borne with patiently. In our\ncivilization, through the action of majorities, there is special\ndifficulty in such discussions, since with us nothing is true except what\nis popular. Majorities rule, and are therefore right. With rare eloquence\nwe denounce tyrant kings and turn to lick the hands of the tyrant people.\nWhoever questions the wisdom of the American people is not to be argued\nwith--he is to be pitied; and therefore both press and pulpit, though\nthey flaunt the banner of freedom, are the servants of the tyrant. To\nhave no principles, but to write and speak what will please the most and\noffend the fewest--this is the philosophy of free speech. We therefore\nhave no independent, and consequently no great, thinkers. It is dangerous\nnot to think with majorities and parties; for those who attempt to break\ntheir bonds generally succeed, like Emerson, only in becoming whimsical,\nweak, and inconclusive. It is not surprising, then, that the Catholics,\nbecause they do not accept as true or ultimate what is supposed to be the\nfinal thought and definite will of American majorities on the subject of\neducation, should be denounced, threatened, and made a Trojan Horse of to\ncarry political adventurers into the White House.\n\nNevertheless, the observant are losing confidence in the theory, so\nfull of inspiration to demagogues and declaimers, that superstition\nand despotism must be founded on ignorance. In Prussia at this moment\nuniversal education co-exists with despotism. Where tyrannical\ngovernments take control of education they easily make it their ally.\n\nLet us hear what Laing says of the practical results of the Prussian\nsystem of education, which it is so much the fashion to praise.\n\n    \u201cIf the ultimate object,\u201d he says, \u201cof all education and\n    knowledge be to raise man to the feeling of his own moral\n    worth, to a sense of his responsibility to his Creator and to\n    his conscience for every act, to the dignity of a reflecting,\n    self-guiding, virtuous, religious member of society, then\n    the Prussian educational system is a failure. It is only a\n    training from childhood in the conventional discipline and\n    submission of mind which the state exacts from its subjects.\n    It is not a training or education which has raised, but\n    which has lowered, the human character.\u2026 The social value or\n    importance of the Prussian arrangements for diffusing national\n    scholastic education has been evidently overrated; for now that\n    the whole system has been in the fullest operation in society\n    upon a whole generation, we see morals and religion in a more\n    unsatisfactory state in this very country than in almost any\n    other in the north of Europe; we see nowhere a people in a more\n    abject political and civil condition, or with less free agency\n    in their social economy. A national education which gives a\n    nation neither religion, nor morality, nor civil liberty,\n    nor political liberty is an education not worth having.\u2026 If\n    to read, write, cipher, and sing be education, the Prussian\n    subject is an educated man. If to reason, judge, and act as an\n    independent free agent, in the religious, moral, and social\n    relations of man to his Creator and to his fellow-men, be the\n    exercise of the mental powers which alone deserves the name\n    of education, then is the Prussian subject a mere drum boy\n    in education, in the cultivation and use of all that regards\n    the moral and intellectual endowments of man, compared to one\n    of the unlettered population of a free country. The dormant\n    state of the public mind on all affairs of public interest,\n    the acquiescence in a total want of political influence or\n    existence, the intellectual dependence upon the government\n    or its functionary in all the affairs of the community, the\n    abject submission to the want of freedom or free agency in\n    thoughts, words, or acts, the religious thraldom of the people\n    to forms which they despise, the want of influence of religious\n    and social principle in society, justify the conclusion that\n    the moral, religious, and social condition of the people was\n    never looked at or estimated by those writers who were so\n    enthusiastic in their praises of the national education of\n    Prussia.\u201d\n\nIn spite of the continued progress of education, there is even less\nliberty, religious, civil, and political, in Prussia to-day than when\nthese words were written, thirty years ago.\n\nNothing more dazzles the eyes of men than great military success; and\nthis, together with the habit which belongs to our race of applauding\nwhoever wins, has produced, especially in England and the United States,\nwhere Bismarck is looked upon, ignorantly enough, as the champion of\nProtestantism, a kind of blind admiration and awe for whatever is\nPrussian. \u201cProtestant Prussia,\u201d boasts M. de Laveleye, \u201chas defeated\ntwo empires, each containing twice her own population, the one in seven\nweeks, the other in seven months\u201d; and in the new edition of Appleton\u2019s\n_Encyclop\u00e6dia_ we are informed that these victories are attributed to\nthe superior education of her people. As well might the tyranny of the\ngovernment and the notorious unchastity and dishonesty of the Prussians\nbe ascribed to their superior education. Not to the general intelligence\nof the people, but to the fact that the whole country has been turned\ninto a military camp, and that to the one purpose of war all interests\nhave been made subservient, must we seek for an explanation of the\nvictories of Sadowa and Sedan.\n\nWho would pretend that the Spartans were in war superior to the\nAthenians because they had a more perfect system of education and\nwere more intelligent or had a truer religion? Or who would think of\naccounting in this way for the marvellous exploits of Attila with his\nHuns, of Zingis Khan with his Moguls, of Tamerlane with his Tartars, of\nMahmood, Togrul-Beg, and Malek-Shah with their Turkish hordes?\n\nIn fact, it may be said, speaking largely and in general, that the\nhistory of war is that of the triumph of strong and ignorant races over\nthose which have become cultivated, refined, and corrupt. The Romans\nlearned from their conquered slaves letters and the vices of a more\npolished paganism. Barbarism is ever impending over the civilized world.\nThe wild and rugged north is ever rushing down upon the soft and cultured\nsouth: the Scythian upon the Mede, the Persian, and the Egyptian; the\nMacedonian upon Greece, and then upon Asia and Africa; the Roman upon\nCarthage, and in turn falling before the men of the North--Goth, Vandal,\nHun, Frank, and Gaul; the Mogul and the Tartar upon China and India;\nthe Turk upon Southern Europe, Asia, and Africa; and to-day, like black\nclouds of destiny, the Russian hordes hang over the troubled governments\nof more educated Europe. Look at Italy during the middle ages--the focus\nof learning and the arts for all Christendom, and yet an easy prey for\nevery barbarous adventurer; and in England the Briton yields to the\nSaxon, who in turn falls before the Norman. It would be truer to say\nthat Prussia owes her military successes to the ignorance of her people,\nthough they nearly all can read and write. Had she had to deal with\nintelligent, enlightened, and thinking populations, she could not have\nmade the country a camp of soldiers.\n\nThe Prussian policy of \u201cblood and iron\u201d has been carried out, in defiance\nof the wishes of the people as expressed through their representatives,\nwho were snubbed and scolded and sent back home as though they were a\npack of schoolboys; yet the people looked on in stolid indifference, and\nallowed the tax to be levied after they had refused to grant it.\n\nWe will now follow M. de Laveleye a step farther.\n\n\u201cWith regard to elementary instruction,\u201d he says, \u201cthe Protestant states\nare incomparably more advanced than the Catholic. England alone is no\nmore than on a level with the latter, probably because the Anglican\nChurch, of all the reformed forms of worship, has most in common with the\nChurch of Rome.\u201d\n\nIf any one has good reason to praise education, and above all the\neducation of the people, certainly we Catholics have. The Catholic\nChurch created the people; she first preached the divine doctrine of the\nbrotherhood and equality of all men before God, which has wrought and\nmust continue to work upon society until all men shall be recognized\nas equals by the law. She drew around woman her magic circle; from the\nslave struck his fetters and bade him be a man; lifted to her bosom the\nchild; baptized all humanity into the inviolable sacredness of Christ\u2019s\ndivinity; she appealed, and still appeals, from the tyranny of brute\nforce and success, in the name of the eternal liberties of the soul, to\nGod. Her martyrs were and are the martyrs of liberty; and if she were not\nto-day, all men would accept accomplished facts and bow before whatever\nsucceeds.\n\nThe barbarians, who have developed into the civilized peoples of Europe,\ndespised learning as they contemned labor. War was their business. The\nknight signed his name with his sword, in blood; the pen, like the\nspade, was made for servile hands. To destroy this ignorant, idle life\nof pillage and feud, the church organized an army, unlike any the world\nhad ever seen, unlike any it will ever see outside her pale--an army\nof monks, who, with faith in Christ and the higher life, believed in\nknowledge and in work. They became the cultivators of the mind and soil\nof Europe.\n\n\u201cThe praise,\u201d says Hallam, speaking of the middle ages, \u201cof having\noriginally established schools belongs to some bishops and abbots of the\nVIth century.\u201d\n\nIreland is converted and at once becomes a kind of university for all\nEurope. In England the episcopal sees became centres of learning.\nWherever a cathedral was built a school with a library grew up under its\nshadow. Pope Eugenius II., in a council held in Rome in 826, ordered that\nschools should be established throughout Christendom at cathedral and\nparochial churches and other suitable places. The Council of Mayence,\nin 813, admonishes parents that they are in duty bound to send their\nchildren to school. The Synod of Orleans, in 800, enjoins the erection in\ntowns and villages of schools for elementary instruction, and adds that\nno remuneration shall be received except such as the parents voluntarily\noffer. The Third General Council of Lateran, in 1179, commanded that in\nall cathedral churches a fund should be set aside for the foundation and\nsupport of schools for the poor. Free schools were thus first established\nby the Catholic Church. The monasteries were the libraries where the arts\nand letters of a civilization that had perished were carefully treasured\nup for the rekindling of a brighter and better day.\n\nAs early as the XIIth century many of the universities of Europe were\nfully organized. Italy took the lead, with universities at Rome Bologna,\nPadua, Naples, Pavia, and Perugia--the sources\n\n    \u201cWhence many rivulets have since been turned,\n    O\u2019er the garden Catholic to lead\n    Their living waters, and have fed its plants.\u201d\n\nThe schools founded at Oxford and Cambridge in the IXth and Xth centuries\nhad in the XIIth grown to be universities. At Oxford there were thirty\nthousand, at Paris twenty-five thousand, and at Padua twenty thousand\nstudents. Scattered over Europe at the time Luther raised his voice\nagainst the church were sixty six universities.\n\n    \u201cTime went on,\u201d says Dr. Newman, speaking of the medi\u00e6val\n    universities; \u201ca new state of things, intellectual and social,\n    came in; the church was girt with temporal power; the preachers\n    of S. Dominic were in the ascendant: now, at length, we may\n    ask with curious interest, did the church alter her ancient\n    rule of action, and proscribe intellectual activity? Just the\n    contrary; this is the very age of universities; it is the\n    classical period of the schoolmen; it is the splendid and\n    palmary instance of the wise policy and large liberality of\n    the church, as regards philosophical inquiry. If there ever\n    was a time when the intellect went wild, and had a licentious\n    revel, it was at the date I speak of. When was there ever a\n    more curious, more meddling, bolder, keener, more penetrating,\n    more rationalistic exercise of the reason than at that time?\n    What class of questions did that subtle metaphysical spirit not\n    scrutinize? What premise was allowed without examination? What\n    principle was not traced to its first origin, and exhibited\n    in its most naked shape?\u2026 Well, I repeat, here was something\n    which came somewhat nearer to theology than physical research\n    comes; Aristotle was a somewhat more serious foe then, beyond\n    all mistake, than Bacon has been since. Did the church take a\n    high hand with philosophy then? No, not though that philosophy\n    was metaphysical. It was a time when she had temporal power,\n    and could have exterminated the spirit of inquiry with fire and\n    sword; but she determined to put it down by _argument_; she\n    said: \u2018Two can play at that, and my argument is the better.\u2019\n    She sent her controversialists into the philosophical arena. It\n    was the Dominican and Franciscan doctors, the greatest of them\n    being S. Thomas, who in those medi\u00e6val universities fought the\n    battle of revelation with the weapons of heathenism.\u201d[249]\n\nTo find fault with the church because popular education in the middle\nages was not organized and general as it has since become would be\nas wise as to pick a quarrel with the ancient Greeks for not having\nrailroads, or with the Romans because they had no steamships. Reading and\nwriting were not taught then universally as they are now because it was\nphysically and morally impossible that they should have been. Without\nsteam and the printing-press, common-school systems would not now be\npracticable, nor would the want of them be felt. We have great reason to\nbe thankful that the art of printing was invented and America discovered\nbefore Luther burned the Pope\u2019s bull, else we should be continually\nbothered with refuting the cause-and-effect historians who would have\ninfallibly traced both these events to the Wittenberg conflagration.\n\nAll Europe was still Catholic when gunpowder drove old Father Schwarz\u2019s\npestle through the ceiling, when Gutenberg made his printing-press, when\nColumbus landed in the New World; and these are the forces which have\nbattered down the castles of feudalism, have brought knowledge within the\nreach of all, and some measure of redress to the masses of the Old World,\nby affording them the possibility and opportunity of liberty in the New.\nThese forces would have wrought to even better purpose had Protestantism\nnot broken the continuity and homogeneity of Christian civilization. The\nTurk would not rest like a blight from heaven upon the fairest lands of\nEurope and Asia, nor the darkness of heathenism upon India and China, had\nthe civilized nations remained of one faith; and thus, though our own\ntrain might have rushed less rapidly down the ringing grooves of change,\nthe whole human race would have advanced to a level which there now seems\nbut little reason to hope it will ever reach.\n\nBut to come more nearly to M. de Laveleye\u2019s assertion that the Protestant\nstates are incomparably more advanced than the Catholic, with the\nexception of England, which in this matter is at least up to the standard\nof Catholic countries. In the report of the Commissioner of Education for\n1874 there is a statistical account of the state of education in foreign\ncountries which throws some light upon this subject.\n\nThe school attendance, compared with the population, is in Austria as\n1 to 10; in Belgium, as 1 to 10\u00bd; in Ireland, as 1 to 16; in Catholic\nSwitzerland, as 1 to 16; in England, as 1 to 17. In Bavaria it is as 1\nto 7, upon the authority of Kay, in his _Social Condition of the People\nin England and Europe_. Catholic Austria, Bavaria, Belgium, and Ireland\nhave proportionately a larger school attendance than Protestant England.\nEngland and Wales (report of 1874), with a population of 22,712,266,\nhad a school population of 5,374,700, of whom only about half were\nregistered, and not half of these attended with sufficient regularity to\nbring grants to their schools. Ireland, with a population of 5,411,416,\nhad on register 1,006,511, or nearly half as many as England and Wales,\nthough her population is not a fourth of that of these two countries.\n\u201cThe statistical fact,\u201d says Laing, speaking of Rome as it was under the\npopes, \u201cthat Rome has above a hundred schools more than Berlin, for a\npopulation little more than half that of Berlin, puts to flight a world\nof humbug about systems of national education carried on by governments\nand their moral effects on society.\u2026 In Catholic Germany, in France,\nItaly, and even Spain, the education of the common people in reading,\nwriting, arithmetic, music, manners, and morals, is at least as generally\ndiffused and as faithfully promoted by the clerical body as in Scotland.\nIt is by their own advance, and not by keeping back the advance of the\npeople, that the popish (_sic_) priesthood of the present day seek to\nkeep ahead of the intellectual progress of the community in Catholic\nlands; and they might, perhaps, retort on our Presbyterian clergy, and\nask if they, too, are in their countries at the head of the intellectual\nmovement of the age. Education is in reality not only not repressed, but\nis encouraged, by the popish church, and is a mighty instrument in its\nhands, and ably used.\u201d[250]\n\nProfessor Huxley\u2019s testimony is confirmatory of this admission of Laing.\n\u201cIt was my fortune,\u201d he says, \u201csome time ago to pay a visit to one\nof the most important of the institutions in which the clergy of the\nRoman Catholic Church in these islands are trained; and it seemed to me\nthat the difference between these men and the comfortable champions of\nAnglicanism and Dissent was comparable to the difference between our\ngallant Volunteers and the trained veterans of Napoleon\u2019s Old Guard. The\nCatholic priest is trained to know his business and do it effectually.\nThe professors of the college in question, learned, zealous, and\ndetermined men, permitted me to speak frankly with them. We talked like\noutposts of opposed armies during a truce--as friendly enemies; and when\nI ventured to point out the difficulties their students would have to\nencounter from scientific thought, they replied: \u2018Our church has lasted\nmany ages, and has passed safely through many storms. The present is but\na new gust of the old tempest; and we do not turn out our young men less\nfitted to weather it than they have been in former times to cope with the\ndifficulties of those times.\u2019\u201d[251]\n\n\u201cIt is a common remark,\u201d says Kay, \u201cof the operatives of Lancashire,\nand one which is only too true: \u2018Your church is a church for the rich,\nbut not for the poor. It was not intended for such people as we are.\u2019\nThe Roman church is much wiser than the English in this respect.\u2026 It is\nsingular to observe how the priests of Romanist (_sic_) countries abroad\nassociate with the poor. I have often seen them riding with the peasants\nin their carts along the roads, eating with them in their houses,\nsitting with them in the village inns, mingling with them in their\nvillage festivals, and yet always preserving their authority.\u201d[252]\n\nWith us, too, the masses of the people are fast abandoning Protestantism.\nThere is no Catholic country in Europe in which the social condition of\nthe masses is so wretched as in England, the representative Protestant\ncountry. For three hundred years, it may be said, the Catholic Church\nhad no existence there. The nation was exclusively under Protestant\ninfluence; and yet the lower classes were suffered to remain in stolid\nignorance, until they became the most degraded population in Christendom.\n\n\u201cIt has been calculated,\u201d says Kay, writing in 1850, \u201cthat there are\nat the present day, in England and Wales, nearly 8,000,000 persons who\ncannot read and write.\u201d That was more than half of the whole population\nat that time. But this is not the worst. A population ignorant of\nreading and writing may nevertheless, to a certain extent, be educated\nthrough religious teaching and influence; but these unhappy creatures\nwere left, helpless and hopeless, to sink deeper and deeper beneath the\nweight of their degradation, without being brought into contact with\nany power that could refine or elevate them; and if their condition has\nsomewhat improved in the last quarter of a century, this is no more to\nbe attributed to Protestantism than the Catholic Emancipation Act or the\nAtlantic cable.\n\n\nTHE SEVEN FRIDAYS IN LENT\n\n    First, thy most holy Passion, dearest Lord,\n      Doth set the keynote of our love and tears;\n      And then thy holy Crown of Thorns appears--\n    Strange diadem for thee, of lords the Lord!\n    The holy Lance and Nails we clasp and hoard:\n      What pierced thee sore heals sin-sick souls to-day;\n      Then thy Five Wounds we glorify for aye--\n    Hands, feet, and broken Heart, beloved, adored.\n    Now tears of bitter grief flow fast like rain:\n      Our Lord\u2019s most Precious Blood for us flows fast.\n    Alas! what tears of ours, what love, what pain,\n      Can match that tide of blood and love and woe?\n    Mother, we turn to thy Seven Griefs at last;\n      Teach us to stand, with thee, the cross below.\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 XIII.\n\nTHE SEARCH NEARLY OVER.\n\nIt was one of those exquisitely lovely mornings that we sometimes see\nin early spring. The night had been frosty, and had hurried to meet the\ndawn, leaving her moonlight mantle behind her, frozen to silver, on every\nfield or hill-side. The sky was of a heavenly blue--liquid turquoise,\nswept with feathery dashes of pink, that set off the glistening landscape\nlike a velvet curtain spread for the purpose. The sun was shining through\na pearly mist that hung, a silver gauze veil, in the air and made\neverything look dreamy and vision-like. The meadows were silvered with\nfrost; so were the hedges--every twig and thorn finished like a jewel.\nThe trees stood up like immense bouquets of filigree against the pink and\nblue curtain. No wonder Franceline, who had been awake and watching the\nsunrise from her window, stole a march on Ang\u00e9lique, and hastened out to\nenjoy the beauty of the morning. It was impossible it could hurt her; it\nwas too lovely to be unkind. But besides this outward incentive, there\nwas another one that impelled her to the daring escapade. She felt an\nirresistible longing to go to church this morning--one of those longings\nthat she called presentiments, and seldom rejected without having reason\nto regret it. It was not that she was uneasy, or alarmed, or unhappy\nabout anything. Nothing had occurred to awake the dormant fires that\nwere still smouldering--though she thought them dead--and impel her to\nseek for strength in a threatened renewal of the combat. Sir Simon\u2019s\ndisappearance the morning after the dinner-party, some few days ago,\nhad not surprised her; that was his way, and this time she had been\nprepared for it. It was true that ever since then her father had been\nmore preoccupied, more inseparable from his work. It was a perfect mania\nwith him for the last three or four days. He scarcely let the pen out of\nhis hand from morning till night. He seemed, moreover, to have got to a\npoint where he could no longer use her as an amanuensis, but must write\nhimself. Franceline was distressed at the change; it deprived her of\nthe pleasure of helping him and of their daily walk together, which had\nof late become the principal enjoyment of her life. But he could not be\npersuaded to go beyond the garden gate, and then only for ten minutes to\ntake a breath of air. He was in a hurry to get back to his study, as if\nthe minutes were so much gold wasted. Franceline was obliged to accept\nthis sudden alteration in his habits, with the assurance that it would\nnot be for long; that the great work was drawing to a close; and that,\nwhen it was finished, he would be free to walk with her as much as she\nliked, and in more beautiful places than Dullerton. This last she did\nnot believe. No place could ever be so beautiful as this familiar one,\nbecause none would ever be hallowed by the same sweet early memories,\nor sanctified by the same sufferings and regrets. There was a spirit\nbrooding over these quiet sylvan slopes that could never dwell, for her,\nelsewhere. She looked around her at the leafless woods that lay white and\nsilent in the near distance, and at the river winding slowly towards them\nlike an azure arm encircling the silver fields, and she sighed at the\nthought of ever leaving them. The sigh escaped from her lips in a little\ncolumn of sapphire smoke; for the air was as clear as crystal, but it was\ncold too, and the bell was already ringing; so she drew her shawl closer\nand hurried on. What was that fly doing before the presbytery door? Who\ncould have business with Father Henwick at such an unearthly hour as\nseven A.M.? When people live in a small place where everybody\u2019s life is a\nroutine as well known as their own to everybody else, the smallest trifle\nout of the usual way is magnified into an event. Franceline was not\nvery curious by nature; she passed the mysterious fly with a momentary\nglance of interest, and then dismissed it from her thoughts. The little\nwhite-washed church was never full on week-days, its congregation being\nmostly of the class who can only afford the luxury of going to church\non Sundays. A few kindly glances greeted her as she walked up to her\nplace near the sanctuary. Since her health had become delicate, it was a\nrare occurrence to see her there during the week, so her presence was\nlooked on as of good omen. She answered the welcoming eyes with a sweet,\ngrateful smile, and then knelt down and soon forgot them.\n\nWe talk of magnetic atmospheres where instinct warns us of a presence\nwithout any indication from our senses. I don\u2019t know whether Franceline\nbelieved in such influences; but her attitude of rapt devotion as she\nknelt before the altar, seemingly unconscious of anything earthly near\nher, her soul drawn upwards through her eyes and fixed on the Unseen,\ndid not suggest that there was any human presence within reach which had\npower to move her. When Father Henwick had left the altar, she rose and\nwent to the sacristy door to ask if she could see him. She wanted to\nspeak to him about a poor woman in the village. It was not the clerk,\nbut Father Henwick himself, who came to answer her message. He did not\nwelcome his young penitent in his usual gracious, affectionate manner,\nbut asked sharply \u201cwho gave her leave to be out at that hour?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe morning was so sunny I thought it would do me no harm to come,\u201d\nreplied the culprit, with a sudden sense of having done something very\nwicked.\n\n\u201cYou had no business to think about it at all; you should not have come\nwithout your father\u2019s permission. Go home as fast as you can.\u201d\n\nFranceline was turning away, when he called her back.\n\n\u201cCome this way; you can go out through the house.\u201d Then he added in a\nmollified tone: \u201cYou foolish child! I hope you are warmly clad? Keep your\nchest well covered, and hold your muff up to your mouth. Be off, now, as\nquick as you can, and let me have no more of these tricks!\u201d\n\nHe shook hands with her, half-smiling, half-frowning, and, opening the\nsacristy door that led into the presbytery, hurried her away. Franceline\nwas too much discomfited by the abrupt dismissal to conjecture why she\nwas hustled out through the house instead of being allowed to go back\nthrough the church, the natural way, and quite as short. She could not\nunderstand why Father Henwick should have shown such annoyance and\nsurprise at the sight of her. This was not the first time she had played\nthe trick on them at home of coming out to church on a sunny morning, and\nit had never done her any harm. She was turning the riddle in her mind,\nas she passed through the little sitting-room into the entry, when she\nsaw the front door standing wide open, and a gentleman outside speaking\nto the fly-man. The moment he perceived Franceline he raised his hat and\nremained uncovered while he spoke.\n\n\u201cGood-morning, mademoiselle! How is M. de la Bourbonais?\u201d\n\n\u201cThank you, my father is quite well.\u201d\n\nShe and Clide looked at each other as they exchanged this commonplace\ngreeting; but they did not shake hands. Neither could probably have\nexplained what the feeling was that held them back. Franceline went on\nher way, and Clide de Winton entered the presbytery, each bearing away\nthe sound of the other\u2019s voice and the sweetness of that rapid glance\nwith a terrible sense of joy.\n\nFranceline\u2019s heart beat high within her as she walked on. What right had\nit to do so? How dared it? Poor, fluttering heart! No bitter upbraidings\nof indignant conscience, no taunts of womanly pride, could make it stop.\nThe more she tried to silence it, the louder it cried. She was close by\nThe Lilies, and it was crying out and throbbing wildly still. She could\nnot go in and face her father in this state; she must gain a few minutes\nto collect and calm herself. The snow-drops grew in great profusion on\na bank in the park at the back of the cottage. Raymond was fond of wild\nflowers; she would go and gather him some: this would account for her\ndelay. She laid her muff on the grass. It was wet with the hoar-frost\nmelting in the sun; but Franceline did not see this. She stooped down and\nbegan to pluck the snow-drops. It was a congenial task in her present\nframe of mind. Snow-drops had always been favorites with her. In her\nchildish days of innocent pantheism she used to fancy that flowers had\nspirits, or some instinct that enabled them to enjoy and to suffer, to be\nglad in the sunshine and unhappy in the cold and the rain. She fancied\nthat perfume was their language, and that they conversed in it as birds\ndo in songs and chirpings. She used to be sorry for the flowers that had\nno perfume, and called them \u201cthe dumb ones,\u201d connecting their fate in\nsome vague, pitying way with that of two deaf and dumb little children\nin the village. But the snow-drops she pitied most of all. They came in\nthe winter-time, when everything was cold and dreary and there were no\nkindred flowers to keep them company; no roses; no bees and butterflies\nto make music for them; no nightingales to sing them to sleep in the\nscented summer nights; no liquid, starry skies and sweet, warm dews\nto kiss them as they slept; their pale, ascetic little slumbers were\nattuned to none of these fragrant melodies, and Franceline loved them\nall the more for their loveless, lonely life. But she was not pitying\nthem now, as, one by one, she plucked the drooping bells and the bright\ngreen leaves under the silver hedge; she was envying them and listening\nto them. Every flower and blade of grass has a message for us, if we\ncould but hear it; the woods and fields are all tablets on which the\nprimitive scriptures of creative love are written for us. \u201cYour life\nis to be like ours,\u201d the snow-drops were whispering to Franceline. \u201cWe\ndwell alone in cold and silence--so must you; we have no sister flowers\nto make life joyous, no roses to gladden us with their perfume and\ntheir beauty--neither shall you; roses are emblems of love, and love is\nnot for you. You must be content with us. We are the emblems of purity\nand hope; take us to your heart. We are the heralds of the spring;\nwe bring the promise, but we do not wait for its fulfilment. You are\nhappier than we; you will not have the summer here, but you know that it\nwill come hereafter, and that the flowers and fruits will be only the\nmore beautiful for the waiting being prolonged. Look upwards, sister\nsnow-drop, and take courage.\u201d Franceline listened to the mystic voice,\nand, as she did so, large tears fell from her eyes on the white bells of\nthe messengers, as pure as the crystal dew that stood in frozen tears\nupon their leaves.\n\nM. de la Bourbonais had not heard her go out; and when she came in and\nhanded him her bouquet, fresh-gathered, he took for granted she had gone\nout for the purpose, and did not chide her for the slight imprudence.\nAng\u00e9lique was not so lenient; she was full of wrath against the truant,\nand threatened to go at once and inform on her, which Franceline remarked\nshe might have done an hour ago, if she had any such intention; and then,\nwith a kiss and two arms thrown around the old woman\u2019s mahogany neck, it\nwas all made right between them.\n\nFranceline did not venture out again that day. She was afraid of meeting\nClide. She strove hard to forget the morning\u2019s incident, to stifle the\nemotions it had given rise to, and to turn away her thoughts from even\nconjecturing the possible cause of Mr. de Winton\u2019s presence at Dullerton\nand at Father Henwick\u2019s. But strive as she might, the thoughts would\nreturn, and her mind would dwell on them. She was horrified to see the\neffect that Clide\u2019s presence had had on her; to find how potent his\nmemory was with her still, how it had stirred the slumbering depths and\nbroken up the stagnant surface-calm of her heart, filling it once more\nwith wild hopes and ardent longings that she had fondly imagined crushed\nand buried for ever. Was her hard-earned self-conquest a sham after all?\nShe could not help fearing it when she saw how persistently the idea\nkept returning again and again to her, banish it as she would: \u201cHad he\ncome to tell Father Henwick that he was free?\u201d Then she wondered, if it\nwere so, what Father Henwick would do; whether he would come and see her\nimmediately, or let things take their course through Sir Simon and her\nfather. Then again she would discard this notion as impossible, and see\nall sorts of evidence in the circumstances of the morning\u2019s episode to\nprove that it could not be. Why should Father Henwick have tried so hard\nto prevent their meeting, if the one obstacle to it were removed? and why\nshould Clide have been so restrained and distant when she came upon him\nsuddenly? If only she could ask this one question and have it answered,\nFranceline thought she could go back again to her state of stagnation,\nand trample down her rebellious heart into submission once more.\n\nShe slept very little that night, and the next morning she determined\nthat she would go out at any risk. Sitting still all day in this state\nof mind was unbearable; so about eleven o\u2019clock, when the sun was high\nand the frost melted, she put on her bonnet and said she was going for a\nwalk to see Miss Merrywig. As the day was fine and she had not taken cold\nyesterday, Ang\u00e9lique made no difficulty. Franceline started off to the\nwood, and was soon crushing the snow-drops and the budding lemon-colored\nprimroses as she threaded her way along the foot-paths.\n\nFor some mysterious reason which no one could fathom, but which the\noldest inhabitant of the place remembered always to have existed, you\nwere kept an hour waiting at Miss Merrywig\u2019s before the door was opened.\nYou rang three times, waited an age between each ring, and then Keziah,\nthe antediluvian factotum of the establishment, came limping along the\npassage, and, after another never-ending interval of unbarring and\nunbolting, you were let in. It was not Keziah who opened the door for\nFranceline this morning; it was Miss Merrywig herself, shawled and\nbonneted, ready to go out.\n\n\u201cO my dear child! _is_ it you? I am _so_ delighted to see you! Do come\nin! No, no, I am _not_ going out. That is to say, I _am_ going out. It\u2019s\nthe luckiest thing that you did not come two minutes later, or you would\nnot have found me. I _am_ so glad! No, no, you are not putting me about\nthe least bit in the world. Come and sit down, and I\u2019ll explain all about\nit. I _cannot_ imagine what is keeping Keziah, and she knows I am waiting\nto be off, and that the negus will be getting cold, though it was boiling\nmad, and I _have_ only this moment put it into the flask. But what can\nbe keeping her? It didn\u2019t so much matter; in fact, it didn\u2019t matter at\nall, only I _have_ promised little Jemmy Torrens--you know Mary Torrens\u2019\nboy on the green?--well, I _promised_ him I would make the negus for\nhim myself and _take_ it to him myself. He won\u2019t take anything except\nfrom me, poor little fellow! You see he\u2019s known me since I was a baby--I\nmean since _he_ was--and that\u2019s why, I suppose; and Keziah knows it, and\nwhy she dallies so long I _cannot_ conceive! She knows I can\u2019t leave\nthe house unprotected and go off before she comes in--there are so many\ntramps about, you see, my dear. It _is_ provoking of Keziah!\u201d\n\n\u201cLet me take the negus to Jemmy,\u201d said Franceline, when there was a break\nin the stream and she was able to edge in a word. \u201cI will explain why you\ncould not go.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! that\u2019s _just_ like you to be _so_ kind, my dear; but I _promised_,\nyou see, and I really _must_ go myself. What can Keziah be about?\u201d\n\n\u201cThen go, and I will wait and keep the house until either of you comes\nback,\u201d suggested Franceline.\n\n\u201cOh! that _is_ a bright idea. That is as witty as it is kind. Well, then,\nI will just run off. I shall find you here when I return. I won\u2019t be\ntwenty minutes away, and you can amuse yourself looking over _Robinson\nCrusoe_ till I come back; here it is!\u201d And the old lady rooted out a\nbook from under a pile of all sorts of odds and ends on the table, and\nhanded it to Franceline. \u201cSit down, now, and read that; there\u2019s nothing I\nenjoyed like that book when I was your age, and, indeed, I make a point\nof reading it at least once every year regularly.\u201d\n\nWith this she took up her wine-flask, well wrapped in flannel to protect\nher from the scalding-hot contents, and bustled away.\n\n\u201cIf any one rings, am I to let them in?\u201d inquired Franceline, running\ninto the hall after her.\n\n\u201cOh! no, certainly not, unless it happens to be Mr. Langrove; you would\nnot mind opening the door to _him_, would you?\u201d\n\n\u201cNot the least; but how shall I know it is he?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou will be sure to hear the footsteps first and the click of the gate\noutside, and then run out and peep through _this_,\u201d pointing to the\nnarrow latticed window in the entry; \u201cbut you must be quick, or else they\nwill be close to the door and see you.\u201d\n\nFranceline promised to keep a sharp lookout for the warning steps,\nclosed the door on Miss Merrywig, and went back to _Robinson Crusoe_;\nbut she was not in a mood to enjoy Friday\u2019s philosophy, so she sat down\nand began to look about her in the queer little apartment. It was much\nmore like a lumber-room than a sitting-room; the large round table in\nthe middle was littered with every description of rubbish--the letters\nof two generations of Miss Merrywig\u2019s correspondents, old pamphlets,\nodds and ends of ribbon and lace, little boxes, bags of stale biscuits\nthat were kept for the pet dogs of her friends when they came to visit\nher, quantities of china cats and worsted monkeys, samplers made for her\nby great-grandnieces, newspapers of the year one, tracts and books of\nhymns, all huddled pell-mell together. Fifty years\u2019 smoke and lamp-light\nhad painted the ceiling all over in dense black clouds, and the cobwebs\nof innumerable defunct spiders festooned the cornices. The carpet had\nhalf a century ago been bright with poppies and bluebells and ferns; but\nthese vanities, like the memory of the unrighteous man, had been blotted\nout, and had left no trace behind them. Franceline was considering how\nsingular it was that anything so bright and simple and happy as Miss\nMerrywig should be the presiding genius of this abode of incongruous\nrubbish, and wishing she could make a clean sweep of it all, and tidy the\nplace a little, when her attention was roused by a sound of footsteps.\nShe ran out at once to look through the lattice; but she had waited too\nlong. There was only time to shrink behind the door when the visitors\nhad come up and the bell was sounding through the cottage. There were\ntwo persons, if not more; she knew this by the footsteps. Presently some\none spoke; it was Mr. Charlton. He was continuing, in a low voice, a\nconversation already begun. Then another voice answered, speaking in a\nstill lower key; but every word was distinctly audible through the open\ncasement, which was so covered by an outer iron bar and the straggling\nstem of a japonica that no one from the outside would see that it was\nopen, unless they looked very close. The words Franceline overheard\nhad nothing in them to make her turn pale; but the voice was Clide de\nWinton\u2019s. What fatality was this that brought them so near again, and\nyet kept them apart, and condemned her to hide and listen to him like an\neavesdropper? There was a pause after the first ring. Mr. Charlton knew\nthe ways of the house; he said something laughingly, and rang again.\nThen they reverted to the conversation that had been interrupted. Good\nGod! did Franceline\u2019s ears deceive her, or what were these words she\nheard coupled with her father\u2019s name? She put her hand to her lips with\na sudden movement to stifle the cry that leaped up from her heart of\nhearts. She heard Clide giving an emphatic denial: \u201cI don\u2019t believe it. I\ntell you it is some mistake--one of those unaccountable mistakes that we\ncan\u2019t explain or understand, but which we _know_ must be mistakes.\u201d\n\nShe could not catch what Mr. Charlton said; but he was evidently\ndissenting from Clide, and muttered something about \u201cbeing convicted on\nhis own showing,\u201d which the other answered with an impatient exclamation\nthe drift of which Franceline could not seize; neither could she make\nsense out of the short comments that followed. They referred to some\nfacts or circumstances that were clear to the speakers, but only\nbewildered her more and more.\n\n\u201cIt strikes me the old lady does not mean to let us in at all this time,\u201d\nsaid Mr. Charlton; and he gave another violent pull to the bell.\n\n\u201cThere can\u2019t be any one in the house,\u201d said Clide, after a pause that\nexhausted the patience of both. \u201cWe may as well come away. I will call\nlater. I must see her before.\u2026\u201d\n\nThe rest of the sentence was lost, as the two speakers walked down the\ngravel-walk, conversing in the same low tones.\n\nFranceline did not move even when the sound of their steps had long died\naway. She seemed turned to stone, and did not stir from the spot until\nKeziah came back. She gave her a message for Miss Merrywig, left the\ncottage, and went home.\n\nShe found her father just as she had left him--busy at his desk, with\nbooks and papers strewn on the table beside him. She saw this through the\nwindow, but did not go in to him. She could not go at once and speak to\nhim as if nothing had happened in the interval. She went to her room, and\nremained there until dinner-time, and then came down, half-dreading to\nsee some alteration in him corresponding with what had taken place in her\nown mind. But he was gentle and serene as usual. No mental disturbance\nwas visible on his features; at least, she did not see it. Looking at\nhim, nevertheless, with perceptions quickened by what she had heard since\nthey parted, it struck her that his eyes were sunk and dim, as if from\noverwork and want of sleep combined; but there was no cloud of shame or\nhumiliation on his brow. Never had that dear head seemed so venerable,\nnever had such a halo of nobleness and goodness encircled it, in his\ndaughter\u2019s eyes, as at this moment.\n\nShe did not tease him to come out to walk with her, but asked him to read\naloud to her for an hour while she worked. It was a long time--more than\na week--since they had had any reading aloud. Raymond complied with the\nrequest, but soon returned to his work.\n\nFranceline expected that Father Henwick would call, and kept nervously\nlooking out of the window from time to time; but the day wore on, and\nthe evening, and he did not come. She did not know whether to be glad\nor sorry. She was in that frame of feeling when the gentlest touch of\nsympathy would have stung her like the bite of a snake. It was not\nsympathy she wanted, but a voice to join with her in passionate contempt\nfor the liars who had dared to slander her father, and in indignant\ndenunciation of the lie. She wanted to fling it in the teeth of those\nwho had uttered it. If Father Henwick would help her to do this, let him\ncome; if not, let him leave her alone. Let no one come near her with\nwords of pity; pity for her now meant contempt for her father. She would\nresent it as a lioness might resent the food that was thrown to her in\nplace of the cubs she had been robbed of. No love--no, not the best and\nnoblest she had ever dreamed of--would compensate her for the absence of\nreverence and respect for her father.\n\nBut Clide did not suspect him. She had heard him indignantly spurn the\nidea. \u201cHe no more stole it than you did,\u201d he had said. Stolen what? Would\nno one come to tell her what it all meant? Would not Clide come? Was he\nstill at Dullerton? Was there any fear--or hope?--of her meeting him\nagain if she went out? She might have gone with impunity. Clide was far\nenough away, on a very different errand from that which had brought him\nyesterday across her path.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nOn coming back to the Court from his abortive attempt to see Miss\nMerrywig, Clide found Stanton in great excitement with a telegram that\nhad arrived for his master that instant. It was from Sir Simon, summoning\nhim back by the first train that started. Some important news awaited\nhim. He did not wait to see Miss Merrywig, but took the next train to\nLondon, and arrived there in the early afternoon. The news that awaited\nhim was startling enough to justify Sir Simon\u2019s peremptory summons. One\nof the detectives, whose sagacity and coolness fitted him for delicate\nmissions of the kind, had been despatched to gather information in the\nprincipal lunatic asylums of England and Scotland. He had come that\nmorning to tell Sir Simon Harness that he thought he had found Mrs. de\nWinton in one of them. Sir Simon went straight to the place, and, after\nan interview with the superintendent, telegraphed for Clide, as we have\nseen.\n\nIt was an old-fashioned Elizabethan manor-house in the suburbs of London,\nsituated in the midst of grounds almost large enough to be called a park.\nThere was nothing in the outward aspect of the place to suggest its real\ncharacter. Everything was bright and peaceful and well ordered as in the\nabode of a wealthy private family. The gardens were beautifully kept; the\nshrubbery was trim and neat; summer-houses with pretty climbing plants\nrose in shady places, inviting the inmates of the fine old mansion to sit\nout of doors and enjoy the sunshine unmolested; for there was sunshine in\nthis early spring-time, and here in this sheltered spot some bits of red\nand gold and blue were peeping through the tips of closed flower-cups.\nNothing externally hinted at the discord and disorder that reigned in so\nmany human lives within the walls. The sight of the place was soothing\nto Clide. He had so often pictured to himself another sort of dwelling\nfor his unhappy Isabel that it was a great relief to him to see this\nwell-ordered, calm abode, and to think of her being a resident there. A\nlady-like matron received him, and conversed with him kindly and sensibly\nwhile they were waiting for the doctor to come in. The latter accosted\nhim with the same reassuring frankness of manner.\n\n\u201cI hope,\u201d he said, \u201cthat your informant has not exaggerated matters, as\nthat class of people are so apt to do, and that you are _expecting_ to\nsee the right person. All I dare say to you is that you may hope; the\npoints of coincidence are striking enough to warrant hope, but by no\nmeans such as to establish a certainty.\u201d\n\n\u201cI am too much taken by surprise to have arrived at any conclusion,\u201d\nreplied Clide; \u201cand I have been too often disappointed to do so in a\nhurry. Until I see and speak to the patient I can say nothing.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou can see her at once. As to speaking to her, that is not so easy. The\nsun is clouding over. That is unlucky at this moment.\u201d\n\nHis visitor looked surprised.\n\n\u201cOh! I forgot that I had not explained to you the nature of the delusion\nwhich this lady is suffering from,\u201d continued the medical man. \u201cIt is\none of the most poetic fancies that madness ever engendered in a human\nbrain. She is enamored of the sun, and fancies herself beloved of him;\nshe believes him to be a benign deity whose love she has been privileged\nto win, and which she passionately responds to. But there is more\nsuffering than joy in this belief. She fancies that when the sun shines\nhe is pleased with her, and that when he ceases to shine he is angry;\nthe sunbeams are his smiles and the warmth his kisses. At such times she\nwill deck herself out with flowers and gay colors, and sit and sing to\nher lover by the hour, pretending to turn away her face and hide from\nhim, and going through all the pretty coyness of love. Then suddenly,\nwhen the sun draws behind a cloud, she will burst into tears, fling aside\nher wreath, and give way to every expression of grief and despair. It is\nat such moments, when they are prolonged, that the crisis is liable to\nbecome dangerous. She flings herself on the ground, and cries out to her\nlover to forgive her and look on her kindly again, or she will die. Very\noften she cries herself to sleep in this way. I fear you have come at an\nunfortunate moment, for the sun seems quite clouded; however, he may come\nout again, and then you will get a glimpse of the patient at her best.\u201d\n\nHe rose and led the way upstairs along a softly-carpeted corridor with\ndoors opening on either side. Pointing to one, he motioned Clide to\nadvance. One of the panels was perforated so as to admit of the keeper\u2019s\nseeing what went on inside when it was necessary to watch the patient,\nwithout irritating her by seeming to do so or remaining in the room. At\nfirst the occupant was standing up at the window, her hands clasped,\nwhile she conversed with herself or some invisible companion in low tones\nof entreaty. Then, uttering a feeble cry, she turned mournfully away,\nlaid aside the flowers that decked her long black hair, and, taking a\nlarge black cloak, drew it over her dress, and sat down in a dark corner\nof the room, with her face to the wall, crying to herself like a child.\nClide watched her go through all this with growing emotion. He had not\nyet been able to catch a glimpse of her face, but the small, light\nfigure, the wayward movements, the streaming black hair, all reminded him\nstrikingly of Isabel. The voice was too inarticulate, so far, for him to\npronounce on its resemblance with any certainty; but the low, plaintive\ntones fell on his ear like the broken bars of an unforgotten melody. He\nstrained every nerve to see the features. But, stay! She is moving. She\nhas drawn away her hands from her face, and has turned it towards him.\nThe movement did not, however, dispel his doubts; it increased them.\nIt was almost impossible to discover any trace of beauty in that worn,\nhaggard face, with its sharp features, its eyes faded and sunk, and from\nwhich the tears streamed in torrents, as if they were melting away in\nbrine. The skin was shrivelled like an old woman\u2019s--one, at least, double\nthe age that Isabel would be now. Was it possible that this wreck could\nbe the bright, beautiful girl of ten years ago?\n\n\u201cAre _you_ my wife?\u201d was Clide\u2019s mental exclamation, as he looked at the\nsad spectacle, and then, with a shudder, turned away.\n\n\u201cI see you are unable to arrive at any conclusion,\u201d said the doctor when\nthey were out of ear-shot in an adjoining room.\n\n\u201cI will say nothing till I have spoken to her,\u201d replied the young man\nevasively. \u201cWhen can I do this?\u201d\n\n\u201cI cannot possibly fix a time. She is not in a mood to be approached\nnow; any violent shock in her present state might have a fatal result.\nIt would, in all probability, quench for ever the feeble spark of light\nthat still remains, and might bring on a crisis which no skill could\nalleviate. On the other hand, if we could apply the test at the right\nmoment, the effect might be unexpectedly beneficial. I say unexpectedly,\nbecause, for my own part, I have not the slightest hope of any such\nresult.\u201d\n\n\u201cHas her memory quite gone, or does she recall any passages of her past\nlife accurately?\u201d\n\n\u201cNot accurately, I fancy; she seems to have some very vivid impressions\nof the past, but whether they be clear or not I cannot say. The balance\nof the mind is, I believe, too deeply shaken for clearness, even on\nisolated points, to survive in any of the faculties. She talks frequently\nof going over a great waterfall with her nurse, and describes scenery in\na way that rather gave me a hope once. I spoke to her guardian, however,\nand he said she had never been near a waterfall in her life; that it was\nsome picture which had apparently dwelt in her imagination.\u201d\n\n\u201cHe might have his own reasons for deceiving you in that respect,\u201d\nobserved Clide. \u201cHis name, you say, is Par\u2026?\n\n\u201cPercival--Mr. Percival.\u201d\n\n\u201cHumph! When people change their names, they sometimes find it convenient\nto retain the initial,\u201d remarked Clide.\n\nHe went home and desired Stanton to look out for a lodging as near as\npossible to the asylum. A tolerably habitable one was found without\ndelay, and he and his valet installed themselves there at once. The very\nnext day he received a letter from Sir Simon Harness, informing him\nthat Lady Rebecca seemed this time in earnest about betaking herself\nto a better world, and had desired him, Sir Simon, to be sent for\nimmediately. The French _dame de compagnie_ who wrote to him said they\nhardly expected her to get through the week.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nM. de la Bourbonais had never been a social man since he lived at\nDullerton. He said he did not care for society, and in one sense this\nwas true. He did not care for it unless it was composed of sympathetic\nindividuals; otherwise he preferred being without it. He did not want\nto meet and talk with his fellow-creatures simply because they were his\nfellow-creatures; there must be some common bond of interest or sympathy\nbetween them and him, or else he did not want to see them. When, in the\nearly days at The Lilies, Sir Simon used to remonstrate with him on being\nso \u201csauvage,\u201d and wonder how he could bear the dulness, Raymond would\nreply that no dulness oppressed him like uncongenial company. He had no\nsympathies in common with the people about the neighborhood, and so he\nwould have no pleasure in associating with them. There was truth in this;\nbut Sir Simon knew that the count\u2019s susceptible pride had influenced him\nalso. He did not want rich people to see his poverty, if they were not\nrefined and intelligent enough to respect it and value what went along\nwith it. He had studiously avoided cultivating any intimacies beyond\nthe few we know, and had so persistently kept aloof from the big houses\nround about that they had accepted his determination not to go beyond\nmere acquaintanceship, and never stopped to speak when they met him out\nwalking, but bowed and passed on. But of late Raymond began to feel quite\ndifferently about all this. He longed to see these distant acquaintances\nas if they had been so many near friends; to meet their glance of\nkindly, if not cordial, recognition; to receive the homage of their\npassing salutation. It was the dread of seeing these hitherto valueless\ngreetings refused that prevented him stirring beyond his own gate. He\nmarvelled himself at the void that the absence of them was making in\nhis life. He did not dream they had filled such a space in it; that the\nreflection of his own self-respect in the respect of others had been\nsuch a strength and such a need to him. Up to this time Franceline had\nmore than satisfied all his need of society at home, with the pleasant\nperiodical addition of Sir Simon\u2019s presence, while his work had amply\nsupplied his intellectual wants; but suddenly he was made aware of a new\nneed--something undefined, but that he hungered for with a downright\nphysical hunger.\n\nFranceline\u2019s spirit and heart were too closely bound up in her father\u2019s\nnot to feel the counter-pang of this mental hunger. She could not help\nwatching him, though she strove not to do it, and, above all, not to let\nhim see that she was watching him. She might as well have tried not to\ndraw her breath or to stop the pulsations of her heart. Her eyes would\nfasten on him when he was not looking, and she could not but see that\nthe expression of his face was changed. A hard, resolved look had come\nover it; his eyebrows were always protruded now, and his lips drawn\ntight together under the gray fringe of his mustache. She knew every\nturn of his features, and saw that what had once been a passing freak\nunder some sudden thought or puzzling speculation in his work had now\nbecome a settled habit. She longed to speak; to invite him to speak. It\nwould have been so much easier for both; it would lighten the burden to\nthem so much if they could bear it together, instead of toiling under it\napart. But Raymond was silent. It never crossed his mind for a moment\nthat Franceline knew his secret. If he _had_ known it, would he have\nspoken? Sometimes the poor child felt the silence was unbearable; that\nat any cost she must break it and know the truth of the story which\nhad reached her in so monstrous a form. But the idea that her father\nknew possibly nothing of it kept her back. But supposing he was silent\nonly to spare her? Perhaps he was debating in his own mind what the\neffect of the revelation would be on her; wondering if she, too, would\njoin with his accusers, or, even if she did not do this, whether she\nmight not be ashamed of a father who was branded as a thief. When these\nthoughts coursed through her mind, Franceline felt an almost irresistible\nimpulse to rush and fling her arms around his neck and tell him how\nshe venerated him, and how she scorned with all her might and main the\nenvious, malignant fools who dared to so misjudge him. But she never\nyielded to the impulse; the inward conflict of lodgings and shrinkings\nand passionate, tender cries of her heart to his made no outward sign.\nRaymond sat writing away at his desk, and Franceline sat by the fire\nor at the window reading and working, day after day. The idea occurred\nto her more than once that she would write to Sir Simon; but she never\ndid. She did not dare open her heart to Father Henwick. How could she\nbring herself to tell him that her father was accused of theft? It was\nmost probable--she hoped certain--that the abominable suspicion had not\ntravelled to his ears; and if so, she could not speak of it. This was\nnot her secret; it was no breach of confidence towards her spiritual\nfather to be silent, and the selfish longing to pour out her filial anger\nand outraged love into a sympathizing ear should not hurry her into a\nbetrayal of what was, even in its falsity, humiliating to Raymond. It\nwas hard to refrain from speech when speech would have been a solace;\nbut Franceline knew that the sacrifice of the cup of cold water has its\nreward, just as the bestowal has. Peace comes to us on surer and swifter\nwing when we go straight to God for it, without putting the sympathy of\ncreatures between us and his touch.\n\nMr. Langrove had never been a frequent visitor at The Lilies; but\nFranceline never remembered him to have been so long absent as now,\nand she could not but see a striking coincidence in the fact. She knew\nhe had been one of the party at Dullerton that night; and if, as she\nfelt certain, that had been the occasion of the extraordinary mistake\nshe had heard of, the vicar, of course, knew all about it. He believed\nher father had committed a theft, and was keeping aloof from him. Did\neverybody at Dullerton know this? Mr. Langrove was not a man to spread\nevil reports in any shape. Franceline knew him well enough to be sure\nof that; but her father\u2019s reputation was evidently at the mercy of less\ncharitable tongues. She did not know that the six witnesses had promised\nSir Simon to keep silence for his sake; but if she had known it, it would\nnot have much reassured her. A secret that is known to six people can\nscarcely be considered safe. The six may mean to guard it, and may only\nspeak of it among themselves and in whispers; but it is astonishing how\nfar a whisper will travel sometimes, especially when it is malignant. A\nvague impression had in some inexplicable way got abroad that the count\nhad done something which threw him under a cloud. The gentlemen of the\nneighborhood were very discreet about it, and had said nothing positively\nto be taken hold of, but it had leaked out that there was a screw loose\nin that direction. Young Charlton had laughed at the notion of his friend\nAnwyll thinking of Mlle. de la Bourbonais _now_; and the emphasis and\nsmile which accompanied the assurance expressed pretty clearly that there\nwas something amiss which had not been amiss a little while ago.\n\nFranceline had gone out for her usual mid-day walk in the park. It was\nthe most secluded spot where she could take it, as well as warm and\nsheltered. She was walking near the pond; the milk-white swans were\nsailing towards her in the sunlight, expecting the bits of bread she\nhad taken a fancy to bring them every day at this hour, when she saw\nMr. Langrove emerge from behind a large rockery and step out into the\navenue. She trembled as if the familiar form of her old friend had been\na wild animal creeping out of the jungle to pounce upon her. What would\nhe do? Would he pass her by, or stop and just say a few cold words of\npoliteness? The vicar did not keep her long in suspense.\n\n\u201cWell! here, you are enjoying the sunshine, I see. And how are you?\u201d he\nsaid, extending his hand in the mild, affectionate way that Franceline\nwas accustomed to, but had never thought so sweet before. \u201cIs the cough\nquite gone?\u201d\n\n\u201cNot quite; but I am better, thank you. Ang\u00e9lique says I am, and she\nknows more about it than I do,\u201d replied the invalid playfully. \u201cHow is\neverybody at the vicarage?\u201d\n\n\u201cSo-so. Arabella has one of her bad colds, and Godiva is suffering from a\ntoothache. It\u2019s the spring weather, no doubt; we will all be brisker by\nand by. Are you going my way?\u201d\n\n\u201cAny way; I only came for a walk.\u201d\n\nThey walked on together.\n\n\u201cAnd how is M. de la Bourbonais?\u201d said the vicar presently. \u201cI\u2019ve not met\nhim for a long time; we used to come across each other pretty often on\nthe road to Dullerton. He\u2019s not poorly, I hope?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, only busy--so dreadfully busy! He hardly lets the pen out of his\nhand now; but he promises me there will soon be an end of it, and that\nthe book will soon be finished.\u201d\n\n\u201cBravo! And you have been such a capital little secretary to him!\u201d said\nMr. Langrove. \u201cThe next thing will be that we shall have you writing a\nbook on your own account.\u201d\n\nFranceline laughed merrily at this conceit; her fears were, if not\nbanished by his cordial manner, sufficiently allayed to rid her of her\nmomentary awkwardness. They were soon chatting away about village gossip\nas if nothing were amiss with either.\n\n\u201cAng\u00e9lique brought home news from the market a few days ago that Mr.\nTobes was going to marry Miss Bulpit; is it true?\u201d inquired the young\ngirl.\n\n\u201cFar too good to be true!\u201d said the vicar, shaking his head. \u201cThe report\nhas been spread so often that this time I very nearly believed in it.\nHowever, I saw Miss Bulpit, and she dispelled the illusion at once, and,\nI fear, for ever.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut would it have been such a good thing if they got married?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt would be a very desirable event in some ways,\u201d said Mr. Langrove,\nwith a peculiar smile; \u201cit would give her something to do and some one to\nlook after her.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd it would have been a good thing for Mr. Tobes, too, would it not? He\nis so poor!\u201d\n\n\u201cThat\u2019s just why she won\u2019t have him, poor fellow! When he proposed--she\ntold me the story herself, and I find she is telling it right and left,\nso there is no breach of confidence in repeating it--when he proposed,\nMiss Bulpit asked him point-blank how much money he had; \u2018because,\u2019 she\nsaid, \u2018I have only just enough for one!\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! but that was a shame. She has plenty for two; and, besides, it was\nunfeeling. Don\u2019t you think it was?\u201d inquired Franceline, looking up at\nthe vicar. But he evidently did not share either her indignation against\nMiss Bulpit or her pity for the discarded lover. He was laughing quietly,\nas if he enjoyed the joke.\n\nThey reached the gate going out on the high-road while thus pleasantly\nchatting.\n\n\u201cNow I suppose we must say good-by,\u201d said Mr. Langrove. \u201cThis is my way;\nI am going to pay a sick visit down in the valley.\u201d\n\nThey shook hands, and Franceline turned back.\n\n\u201cMind you give my compliments to the count!\u201d said the vicar, calling\nafter her. \u201cTell him I don\u2019t dare go near him, as he is so busy; but if\nhe likes me to drop in of an evening, let him send me word by you, and\nI\u2019ll be delighted. By-by.\u201d\n\nHe nodded to her and closed the gate behind him.\n\n\u201cHe did not dare because he is so busy!\u201d repeated Franceline as she\nwalked on. \u201cHow did he know papa was busy? It was I who told him so a few\nminutes ago. That was an excuse.\u201d\n\nShe gave the message, nevertheless, on coming home, scarcely daring to\nlook at her father while she did so.\n\n\u201cMay I tell him to come in one of these evenings, petit p\u00e8re?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo; I cannot be disturbed at present,\u201d was the peremptory answer, and\nFranceline\u2019s heart sank again.\n\nShe told him the gossip about Miss Bulpit and Mr. Tobes, thinking it\nwould amuse him; he used to listen complacently to the little bits of\ngossip she brought in about their neighbors. Raymond had the charming\nfaculty, common to great men and learned men, of being easily and\ninnocently amused; but he seemed to have lost it of late. He listened to\nFranceline\u2019s chatter to-day with an absent air, as if he hardly took it\nin; and before she had done, he made some irrelevant remark that proved\nhe had not been attending to what she was saying. Then he had got into\na way of repeating himself--of saying the same thing two or three times\nover at an interval of an hour or so, sometimes even less. Franceline\nattributed these things to the concentration of his thoughts on his work,\nand to his being so entirely absorbed in it as not to pay attention to\nanything that did not directly concern it. She was too inexperienced to\nsee therein symptoms of a more alarming nature.\n\nM. de la Bourbonais had all his life complained of being a bad\nsleeper; but Ang\u00e9lique, who suffered from the same infirmity, always\ndeclared that he only imagined he did not sleep; that she was tossing\non her pillow, listening to him snoring, when he said he had been wide\nawake. The count, on his side, was sceptical about Ang\u00e9lique\u2019s \u201cwhite\nnights,\u201d and privately confided to Franceline that he knew for a fact\nshe was fast asleep often when she fancied in the morning she had been\nawake. Some people are very touchy at being doubted when they say they\nhave not \u201cclosed an eye all night.\u201d Ang\u00e9lique resented a doubt on her\n\u201cwhite nights\u201d bitterly, and Franceline, who from childhood had been\nthe confidant of both parties, found an early exercise for tact and\ndiscretion in keeping the peace between them. The discrepancies in the\ntwo accounts of their respective vigils often gave rise to little tiffs\nbetween herself and Ang\u00e9lique, who would insist upon knowing what M.\nle Comte had said about _her_ night; so that Franceline was compelled\nto aggravate her whether she would or not. She \u201cknew her place\u201d better\nthan to have words with M. le Comte, but she had it out with Franceline.\n\u201cMonsieur says he didn\u2019t get to sleep till past two o\u2019clock this morning,\ndoes he? Humph! I only wish I had slept half as well, I know. Pauvre,\ncher homme! He drops off the minute his head is on the pillow, and then\ndreams that he\u2019s wide awake. That\u2019s how it is. Why, this morning I was up\nand lighted my candle at ten minutes to two, and he was sleeping as sound\nas a wooden shoe! I heard him.\u201d Franceline would soothe her by saying she\nquite believed her; but as she said the same thing to M. le Comte, and\nas Ang\u00e9lique generally overheard her saying so, this seeming credulity\nonly aggravated her the more. Laterly Raymond had taken up a small\ncelestial globe to his room, for the purpose, he said, of utilizing his\nlong vigils by studying the face of the heavens during the clear, starry\nnights; and he would give the result of his nocturnal contemplations\nto Franceline at breakfast next morning--Ang\u00e9lique being either in the\nroom pouring out the hot milk for her master\u2019s coffee, or in the kitchen\nwith the door ajar, so that she had the benefit of the conversation.\nThe pantomimes that were performed at these times were a severe trial\nto Franceline\u2019s gravity: Ang\u00e9lique would stand behind Raymond\u2019s chair,\nholding up her hands aghast or stuffing her apron into her mouth, so as\nnot to explode in disrespectful laughter. Sometimes she would shake her\nflaps at him with an air of despondency too deep for words, and then walk\nout of the room.\n\n\u201cI heard M. le Comte telling mam\u2019selle that he saw the Three Kings (the\npopular name for Orion\u2019s belt in French) shining so bright this morning\nat three o\u2019clock. I believe you; he saw them in his sleep! I was up and\nwalking about my room at that hour, and it so happened that I opened my\ndoor to let in the air _just_ as the clock in the _salon_ was striking\nthree!\u201d\n\nAs ill-luck would have it, Raymond overheard this confidential comment\nwhich Ang\u00e9lique was making to Franceline under the porch, not seeing that\nthe sitting-room window was open.\n\n\u201cMy good Ang\u00e9lique,\u201d said the count, putting his head out of the window,\n\u201cyou must have opened the door two seconds too late; it was striking\nfive, most likely, and you only heard the last three strokes. I suspect\nyou were sound asleep at the hour I was looking at the Three Kings.\u201d\n\n\u201cLa! as if I were an infant not to know when I wake and when I sleep!\u201d\nsaid Ang\u00e9lique with a shrug. \u201cIt was M. le Comte that was asleep and\ndreaming that he saw the Three Kings.\u201d\n\n\u201cNay, but I lighted my candle; it was pitch-dark when I got up to set the\nglobe,\u201d argued M. de la Bourbonais.\n\n\u201cWhen M. le Comte _dreamt_ that he got up and lighted his candle,\u201d\ncorrected the incorrigible sceptic. Raymond laughed and gave it up. But\nit was true, notwithstanding Ang\u00e9lique\u2019s obstinate incredulity, that he\ndid pass many white nights now, and the wakefulness was insensibly and\nimperceptibly telling on his health. It was a curious fact, too, that\nthe more the want of sleep was injuring him, the less he was conscious\nof suffering from it. He had been passionately fond of astronomy in his\nyouth, and he had resumed the long-neglected study with something of\nyouthful zest, enjoying the observation of the starry constellations in\nthe bright midnight silence with a sense of repose and communion with\nthose brilliant, far-off worlds that surprised and delighted himself.\nPerhaps the feeling that he was now cut off from possible communion with\nhis fellow-men threw him more on nature for companionship, urging him to\nseek on her glorious brow for the smiles that human faces denied him, and\nto accept her loving fellowship in lieu of the sympathy that his brothers\nrefused him.\n\nBut rich and inexhaustible as the treasures of the great mother are,\nthey are at best but a compensation; nothing but human love and human\nintercourse can satisfy the cravings of a human heart. Raymond was\nbeginning to realize this. His forced isolation was becoming poignantly\noppressive to him. He longed to see Sir Simon, to hear his voice, to\nfeel the warm clasp of his hand; he longed, above all, to get back his\nold feeling of gratitude to him. Raymond little suspected what a moral\nbenefactor his light-hearted, worldly-minded friend had been to him all\nthose years when he was perpetually offering services that were so seldom\naccepted. Sir Simon was all the time feeding his heart with the milk of\nhuman kindness, making a bond between the proud, poor brother and the\nrest of the rich and happy brotherhood who were strangers to him. Raymond\nloved them all for the sake of this one. Nothing nourishes our hearts\nlike gratitude. It widens our space for love, and enlarges our capacity\nfor kindness; it creates a want in us to send the same happy thrills\nthrough other hearts that are stirring our own. We overflow with love\nto all in thankfulness for the love of one. This is often our only way\nof giving thanks, and the good it does us is sometimes a more abiding\ngain than the service that has called it forth. It was all this that\nRaymond missed in Sir Simon. In losing his loving sense of gratefulness\nhe seemed to have lost some vital warmth in his own life. Now that the\nsource which had fed this gratitude was dried up, all that was tender and\nkind and good in him seemed to be running dry or turning to bitterness.\nThe estrangement of one had estranged him from all; he was at war with\nall humanity. Would any sacrifice of pride be too great to win back\nthe old sweet life, with its trust, and ready sympathy, and indulgent\nkindness? Why should he not write to Sir Simon? He had asked himself\nthis many times, and had written many letters in imagination, and some\neven in reality; but Ang\u00e9lique had found them torn up in the waste-paper\nbasket next morning, and had been surprised to see the fresh sheets of\nnote-paper, which she recognized as her master\u2019s, wasted in that manner\nand thrown away. He knew what he was doing, probably; it was not for her\nto lecture him on such matters, but she could not help setting down the\nunnatural extravagance as a part of the general something that was amiss\nwith her master.\n\nOne morning, however, after one of those white nights that gave rise to\nso much discussion in the family, Raymond came down with his mind made\nup to write a letter and send it. He could stand it no longer; he must\ngo to his friend and lay bare his heart to him, so that they might come\ntogether again. If Sir Simon\u2019s silence was an offence, Raymond\u2019s was not\nfree from blame. He sat down and wrote. It was a long letter--several\nsheets closely filled. When it was finished, and Raymond was folding it\nand putting it into the envelope, he remembered that he did not know\nwhere the baronet was. If he sent it to the Court, the servants would\nrecognize the handwriting and think it odd his addressing a letter there\nin their master\u2019s absence. He thought of forwarding it to Sir Simon\u2019s\nbankers; but then, again, how did matters stand at present between him\nand them? He might have gone abroad and not left them his address, and\nthe letter might remain there indefinitely. While Raymond was debating\nwhat he should do he closed up and stamped the blank envelope, making it\nready to be addressed; then he laid it on the top of his writing desk,\nand wrote a few lines to the bankers, requesting them to forward Sir\nSimon\u2019s address, if they had it or could inform him how a letter would\nreach him.\n\nHe seemed relieved when this was done, and, for the first time for nearly\na month, called Franceline to come and write for him. She did so for a\ncouple of hours, and noticed with thankfulness that her father was in\nvery good, almost in high, spirits, laughing and talking a great deal, as\nif elated by some inward purpose. Her glad surprise was increased when he\nsaid abruptly:\n\n\u201cNow, my little one, run and put on thy bonnet, and we will go for a walk\nin the park together.\u201d\n\nThe day was cold, and there was a sharp wind blowing; but the sun was\nvery bright, and the park looked green and fresh and beautiful as they\nentered it, she leaning on him with a fond little movement from time to\ntime and an exclamation of pleasure. He smiled on her very tenderly,\nand chatted about all sorts of things as in the old days of a month ago\nbefore the strange cloud had drawn a curtain between their lives. He\ntalked with great animation of his work, and the excitement it would be\nto them both when it was published.\n\n\u201cWe shall go to Paris for the publication, and then I will show thee the\nwonderful sights of the great city: the Louvre, and the Museum of Cluny,\nand many antiquities that will interest thee mightily; and we will go to\nsome fine _modiste_ and get thee a smart French bonnet, and thou wilt be\nquite a little _\u00e9l\u00e9gante_!\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! how nice it will be, petit p\u00e8re,\u201d cried Franceline, squeezing his\narm in childish glee; \u201cand many learned men will be coming to see you,\nwill they not, and writing articles in praise of your great work?\u201d\n\n\u201cHa! Praise! I know not if it will all be praise,\u201d said the author, with\na dubious smile. \u201cSome will not approve of my views on certain historical\npets. I have torn the masks off many _soi-disant_ heroes, and replaced\nothers in the position that bigotry or ignorance has hitherto denied\nthem. I wonder what Simon will say to it all?\u201d\n\nRaymond smiled complacently as he said this. It was the first time he had\nmentioned the baronet. Franceline felt as if a load were lifted off her,\nand that all the mists were clearing away.\n\n\u201cHe is sure to be delighted with it!\u201d she exclaimed. \u201cHe always is,\neven when he quarrels with you, petit p\u00e8re. I think he quarrels for the\npleasure of it; and then he is so proud of you!\u201d\n\nThey walked as far as the house, and then Raymond said it was time to\nturn back; it was too cold for Franceline to stay out more than half an\nhour.\n\nAn event had taken place at The Lilies in their absence. The postman had\nbeen there and had brought a letter. Raymond started when Ang\u00e9lique met\nhim at the door with this announcement, adding that she had left it on\nthe chimney-piece.\n\nHe went straight in and opened it. It was from Sir Simon. After\nexplaining in two lines how Clide de Winton had arrived in time to save\nhim at the last hour, the writer turned at once to Raymond\u2019s troubles.\nNothing could be gentler than the way he approached the delicate\nsubject. \u201cWhy should we be estranged from one another, Raymond? Do you\nsuppose I suspect you? And what if I did? I defy even that to part us.\nThe friendship that can change was never genuine; ours can know no\nchange. I have tried in every possible way to account satisfactorily\nfor your strange, your suicidal behavior on that night, and I have\nnot succeeded. I can only conclude that you were beside yourself with\nanxiety, and over-excited, and incapable of measuring the effect of your\nrefusal and your conduct altogether. But admitting, for argument\u2019s sake,\nthat you did take it; what then? There is such a thing as momentary\ninsanity from despair, as the delirium of a sick and fevered heart.\nAt such moments the noblest men have been driven to commit acts that\nwould be criminal if they were not mad. It would ill become _me_ to\ncast a stone at _you_--I, who have been no better than a swindler these\ntwenty years past! Raymond, there can be no true friendship without\nfull confidence. We may give our confidence sometimes without our love\nfollowing; but when we give our love, our confidence must of necessity\nfollow. When we have once given the key of our heart to a friend, we have\ngiven him the right to enter into it at all times, to read its secrets,\nto open every door, even that, and above that, behind which the skeleton\nstands concealed. You and I gave each other this right when we were boys,\nRaymond; we have used it loyally one towards the other ever since, and I\nhave done nothing to forfeit the privilege now. All things are arranged\nby an overruling Providence, and God is wise as he is merciful; yet I\ncannot forbear asking how it is that I should have been saved from\nmyself, and that you should not have been delivered from temptation--you,\nwhose life has been one long triumph of virtue over adversity! It will be\nall made square one day; meantime, I bless God that the weaker brother\nhas been mercifully dealt with and permitted to rescue the nobler and the\nworthier one. The moment I hear from you I will come to Dullerton, and\nyou and Franceline must come away with me to the south. I will explain\nwhen we meet why this letter has been so long delayed.\u201d Then came a\npostscript quite at the bottom of the page: \u201cSend that wretched bauble\nto me in a box, addressed to my bankers. Rest assured of one thing: you\nshall be cleared before men as you already are before a higher and a more\nmerciful tribunal.\u201d\n\nMany changes passed over Raymond\u2019s countenance as he read this letter;\nbut when his eye fell on the postscript, the smile that had hovered\nbetween sadness, tenderness, and scorn subsided into one of almost\nsaturnine bitterness, and a light gathered in his eyes that was not\ngoodly to see. But the feelings which these signs betrayed found no other\noutward vent. M. de la Bourbonais quietly and deliberately tore up the\nletter into very small pieces, and then, instead of throwing them into\nthe waste-paper basket, he dropped them into the grate. The fire was low;\nhe took the poker and stirred it to make a blaze, and then watched the\nflame catching the bits one by one and consuming them.\n\n\u201cIt is fortunate I did not send mine!\u201d was his mental congratulation as\nhe turned to his desk, intending to feed the dying flame with two more\nofferings. But where were they? Raymond pushed about his papers, but\ncould not find either of the letters. Ang\u00e9lique was called. Had she seen\nthem?\n\n\u201cOh! yes; I gave them both to the postman,\u201d she explained, with a nod of\nher flaps that implied mystery.\n\n\u201cHow both? There was only one to go. The other had no address on it,\u201d\nsaid Raymond.\n\n\u201cI saw it, M. le Comte.\u201d Another mysterious nod.\n\n\u201cAnd yet you gave it to the postman?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes. I am a discreet woman, as M. le Comte knows, and he might have\ntrusted me to keep a quiet tongue in my head; but monsieur knows his own\naffairs best,\u201d added Ang\u00e9lique in an aggrieved tone.\n\n\u201cMy good Ang\u00e9lique, explain yourself a little more lucidly,\u201d said M. de\nla Bourbonais with slight impatience. \u201cWhat could induce you to give the\npostman a letter that had neither name nor address on it?\u201d\n\n\u201cBless me! I thought M. le Comte did not wish me to know who he was\nwriting to!\u201d\n\n\u201cGood gracious!\u201d exclaimed Raymond, too annoyed to notice the absurdity\nof the reply. \u201cBut how could the postman take it when he saw it was a\nblank envelope?\u201d\n\n\u201cI did not let him see it; I slipped the two with my own hands into the\nbag,\u201d said Ang\u00e9lique.\n\nM. de la Bourbonais moved his spectacles, and shrugged his shoulders in\na way that was expressive of anything but gratitude for this zeal. He\nhesitated a moment or two, debating what he should do. The only way to\nensure getting back his letter immediately was to go off himself to the\npost-office, and claim it before it was taken out to be stamped with\nthe postmark, when it would be opened in order to be returned to the\nwriter. There might be no harm in its being opened; the postmaster was\nnot a French scholar that Raymond knew of, but he might have a friend at\nhand who was, and who would be glad to gratify his curiosity, as well as\nexhibit his learning, by reading the count\u2019s letter.\n\nRaymond set off at once, so as to prevent this. It was the first time\nfor some weeks that he had shown himself in or near the town; and if his\nmind had not been so full of his errand, he would have been painfully\nconscious and shy at finding himself abroad in open daylight in his old\nhaunts and within the observation of many eyes that knew him. But he did\nnot give this a thought; he was calculating the chances for and against\nhis arriving at the post-office before the postman had come back from\nhis rounds and handed in the out-going letters to be marked, and his\nimagination was running on to the wildest conclusions in the event of his\nbeing too late. He walked as if for a wager; not running, but as near to\nit as possible. The pace and his intense look of preoccupation attracted\nmany glances that he would have escaped had he walked on quietly at his\nordinary pace. He was not a minute too soon, however, just coming up\nas the postman appeared with his replenished bag. M. de la Bourbonais\nhastened to describe the shape and color of his blank envelope, and\nto explain how it had come to be where it was, and was most emphatic\nin protesting that he did not mean the letter to go, and that he was\nprepared to take any steps to prevent its going. There was no need to be\nso earnest, about it. The postmaster assured him at once that the letter\nwould be forthcoming in a moment, and that his word would be quite enough\nto identify it and ensure its being returned to him. It seemed an age to\nRaymond while the letters were being turned out and sorted, but at last\nthe man held up the blank envelope, with its queen\u2019s head in the corner,\nand exclaimed jubilantly: \u201cHere it is!\u201d\n\nThe count seized it with avidity, and hurried away, leaving the\npostmaster half-amused, half-mystified, at his excited volubility and\nwarm expressions of thanks. There was no necessity to rush home at\nthe same pace that he had rushed out, but Raymond felt like a machine\nwound up to a pitch of velocity that must be kept up until the wheel\nstopped of its own accord. His hat was drawn over his eyes, and his head\nbent like a person walking on mechanically, neither seeing nor hearing\nwhat might be going on around him. He was soon beyond the streets and\nshop-windows, and back amidst the fields and hedges. There was a clatter\nof horses coming down the road. M. de la Bourbonais saw two gentlemen\non horseback approaching. He recognized them, even in the distance, at\na glance: Sir Ponsonby Anwyll and Mr. Charlton. Raymond\u2019s heart leaped\nup to his throat. What would they do? Stop and speak, or cut him dead?\nA few seconds would decide. They were close on him now, but showed no\nsign of reining in to speak. Ponsonby Anwyll raised his hat in a formal\nsalutation; Mr. Charlton looked straight before him and rode on. All the\nblood in his body seemed to rush at the instant to Raymond\u2019s face. He\nput his hand to his forehead and stood to steady himself; then he walked\nhome, never looking to the right or the left until he reached The Lilies.\n\nAng\u00e9lique called out from the kitchen window to know if he had made\nit right about the letter; but he took no heed of her, only walked in\nand went straight up to his room. She heard him close the door. There\ncertainly was something queer come to him of late. What did he want,\ngoing to shut himself in his bedroom this time of day, and then passing\nher without answering?\n\nFranceline was in the study, busy arranging some primroses and wild\nviolets that she had been gathering under the hedge while her father\nwas out. A noise as of a body falling heavily to the ground in the room\noverhead made her drop the flowers and fly up the stairs. Ang\u00e9lique had\nhastened from the kitchen to ask what was the matter; but a loud shriek\nrang through the house in answer to her question.\n\n\u201cAng\u00e9lique, come! O my God! Father! father!\u201d\n\nRaymond was lying prostrate on the floor, insensible, while Franceline\nlifted his head in her arms, and kissed him and called to him. \u201cOh! What\nhas happened to him? Father! father! speak to me. O my God! is he dead?\u201d\nshe cried, raising her pale, agonized face to the old servant with a\ndespairing appeal.\n\n\u201cNo! no! Calm thyself! He has but fainted; he is not dead,\u201d said\nAng\u00e9lique, feeling her master\u2019s pulse and heart. \u201cSee, put thy hand here\nand feel! If he were dead, it would not beat.\u201d\n\nFranceline laid her finger on the pulse. She felt the feeble beat; it\nwas scarcely perceptible, but she could feel it.\n\n\u201cWe must lift him on to the bed,\u201d said Ang\u00e9lique, and she grasped the\nslight form of her master with those long, brown arms of hers, and laid\nit gently on the bed, Franceline assisting as she might.\n\n\u201cNow, my petite, thou wilt be brave,\u201d said the faithful creature,\nforgetting herself in her anxiety to spare and support Franceline. \u201cThou\nwilt stay here and do what is necessary whilst I run and fetch the\ndoctor.\u201d\n\nShe poured some eau-de-cologne into a basin of water, and desired her\nto keep bathing her father\u2019s forehead and chafing his hands until she\nreturned. This, after loosing his cravat and letting in as much air as\npossible, was all her experience suggested.\n\nFranceline sat down and did as she was told; but the perfect stillness,\nthe deathlike immobility of the face and the form, terrified her. She\nsuspended the bathing to breathe on it, as if her warm breath might bring\nback consciousness and prove more potent than the cold water. But Raymond\nremained insensible to all. The silence began to oppress Franceline like\na ghastly presence; the cooing of her doves outside sounded like a dirge.\nCould this be death? His pulse beat so faintly she hardly knew whether it\nwas his or the pulse of her own trembling fingers that she felt. A chill\nof horror came over her; the first vague dread was gradually shaping\nitself in her mind to the most horrible of certainties. If he should\nnever awake, never speak again, never open those closed eyes on her with\nthe old tender glance of love that had been as familiar and unfailing as\nthe sunlight to her! Oh! what a fearful awakening came with this first\nrealization of that awful possibility. What vain shadows, what trivial\nempty things, were those that she had until now called sorrows! What a\njoy it would be to take them all back again, and bear them, increased\ntenfold in bitterness, to the end of her life, if this great, this real\nsorrow might be averted! Franceline dropped on her knees beside the\nbed, and, clasping her hands, sent up one of those cries that we all of\nus find in our utmost need, when there is only God who can help us: \u201cO\nFather! thy will be done. But if it be possible, \u2026 if it be possible, \u2026\nlet this cup pass from me!\u201d\n\nThere were steps on the stairs. It was Ang\u00e9lique come back. She had only\nbeen ten minutes away--the longest ten minutes that ever a trembling\nheart watched through--but Franceline knew she could not have been to the\ndoctor\u2019s and back so quickly. \u201cI met M. le Vicaire just at the end of the\nlane, and he is gone for the doctor; he was riding, so he will be there\nin no time.\u201d\n\nThen she made Franceline go and fetch hot water from the kitchen, and\nbusied her in many little ways, under pretence of being useful, until Dr.\nBlink\u2019s carriage was heard approaching. The medical man was not alone;\nMr. Langrove and Father Henwick accompanied him.\n\nAng\u00e9lique drew the young girl out of her father\u2019s room, and sent her to\nstay with Father Henwick, while the doctor, assisted by Mr. Langrove and\nherself, attended to M. de la Bourbonais.\n\n\u201cOh! what is it? Did the doctor tell you?\u201d she whispered, her dark eyes\npreternaturally dilated in their tearless glance, as she raised it to\nFather Henwick\u2019s face.\n\n\u201cHe could say nothing until he had seen him. Tell me, my dear child, did\nyour father ever have anything of this sort happen him before?\u201d inquired\nFather Henwick, as unconcernedly as he could.\n\n\u201cNever, never that I heard of, unless it may have been when I was too\nlittle to remember,\u201d said Franceline; and then added nervously, \u201cWhy?\u201d\n\n\u201cThank God! It is safe, then, not to be so serious,\u201d was the priest\u2019s\nhearty exclamation. \u201cPlease God, you will see him all right again soon;\nhe has been overdoing of late, working too hard, and not taking air or\nexercise enough. The blade has been wearing out the sheath--that\u2019s what\nit is; but Blink will pull him through with God\u2019s help.\u201d\n\n\u201cFather,\u201d said Franceline, laying both hands on his arm with an\nunconscious movement that was very expressive, \u201cdo you know it seems to\nme as if I were only waking up, only beginning to live now. Everything\nhas been unreal like a dream until this. Is it a punishment for being so\nungrateful, so rebellious, so blind to the blessings that I had?\u201d\n\n\u201cIf it were, my child, punishment with God is only another name for\nmercy,\u201d said Father Henwick. \u201cOur best blessings come to us mostly in\nthe shape of crosses. Perhaps you were not thankful enough for the great\nblessing of your father\u2019s love, for his health and his delight in you;\nperhaps you let your heart long too much for other things; and if so,\nGod has been mindful of his foolish little one, and has sent this touch\nof fear to teach her to value more the mercies that were vouchsafed to\nher, and not to pine for those that were denied. We seldom see things in\ntheir true proportions until the shadow of death falls on them.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe shadow of death!\u201d echoed Franceline, her white lips growing still\nwhiter. \u201cOh! if it be but the shadow, my life will be too short for\nthanksgiving, were I to live to the end of the world.\u201d\n\n\u201cHa! here they come,\u201d said Father Henwick, opening the study-door as he\nheard the doctor\u2019s steps, followed by Mr. Langrove\u2019s, on the stair.\n\nFranceline went forward to meet them; she did not speak, but Dr. Blink\nheld out his hand in answer to her questioning face, and said cheerfully:\n\u201cThe count is much better; he has recovered consciousness, and is doing\nvery nicely, very nicely indeed for the present. Come! there is nothing\nto be frightened at, my dear young lady.\u201d\n\nFranceline could not utter a word, not even to murmur \u201cThank God!\u201d But\nthe dead weight that had been pressing on her heart was lifted, she\ngasped for breath, and then the blessed relief of tears came.\n\n\u201cMy poor little thing! My poor Franceline!\u201d said the vicar, leading\nher gently to a chair, and smoothing the dark gold hair with paternal\nkindness.\n\n\u201cLet her cry; it will do her good,\u201d said Dr. Blink kindly; and then he\nturned to speak in a low voice to Father Henwick and Mr. Langrove.\n\nHe had concluded, from the incoherent account which Mr. Langrove had\ngathered from Ang\u00e9lique, that he should come prepared for a case of\napoplexy, and had brought all that was necessary to afford immediate\nrelief. He had recourse to bleeding in the first instance, and it had\nproved effective. M. de la Bourbonais was, as he said, doing very well\nfor the present. Consciousness had returned, and he was calm and free\nfrom suffering. Franceline was too inexperienced to understand where the\nreal danger of the attack lay. She fancied that, since her father had\nregained consciousness, there could be nothing much worse than a bad\nfainting fit, brought on by fatigue of mind and body, and, now that the\nRubicon was past, he would soon be well, and she would take extra care\nof him, so as to prevent a relapse. Her passionate burst of tears soon\ncalmed down, and she rose up to thank her visitors with that queenly\nself-command that formed so striking a part of her character.\n\n\u201cI am very grateful to you for coming so quickly; it was very good of\nyou,\u201d she said, extending her hand to Dr. Blink: \u201cMay I go to him now?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, no, not just yet,\u201d he replied promptly. \u201cI would rather he were left\nperfectly quiet for a few hours. We will look in on him later; not that\nit is necessary, but we shall be in the neighborhood, and may as well\nturn in for a moment.\u201d He wished them good-afternoon, and was gone.\n\n\u201cAnd how did you happen to come in just at the right moment?\u201d said\nFranceline, turning to Father Henwick. \u201cIt did not occur to me before how\nstrange it was. Was it some good angel that told you to come to me, I\nwonder?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe very thing! You have hit it to a nicety!\u201d said Mr. Langrove. \u201cIt was\nan angel that did it.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d said Father Henwick, falling into the vicar\u2019s playful vein, \u201cand\nthe odd thing was that he came riding up to my house on a fat Cumberland\npony! Now, we all know S. Michael has been seen on a white charger, but\nthis is the first time, to my knowledge, that an angel was ever seen\nmounted on a Cumberland pony.\u201d\n\n\u201cDear Mr. Langrove, how good of you!\u201d said Franceline, with moistened\neyes, and she pressed his hand.\n\n\u201cHad you not better come out with me now for a short walk?\u201d said the\nvicar. \u201cI sha\u2019n\u2019t be more than half an hour, and it will do you good.\nCome and have early tea at the vicarage, and we will walk home with you\nbefore Blink comes back. What do you say?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! I think I had better not go out, I feel so shaken and tired; and\nthen papa might ask for me, you know. I shall not go near him unless he\ndoes, after what Dr. Blink said.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, perhaps it is as well for you to keep quiet. Good-by, dear. I will\nlook in on you this evening.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd so will I, my child,\u201d said Father Henwick, laying his broad hand on\nher head; and the two gentlemen left the cottage together.\n\nTO BE CONTINUED.\n\n\nTHE FRIENDS OF EDUCATION.\n\nTo pass from the discussion of arguments to the question of motives is\na most common yet most unjustifiable man\u0153uvre of popular debate. This\nis usually done when the field of calm and logical reasoning has become\ntolerably clear. The flank movement is attempted as a final struggle\nagainst defeat otherwise inevitable. If the motive thus impugned be\nreally indefensible; if it be, at the same time, glaring or manifest, a\npositive advantage is sometimes gained by a vigorous diversion from the\nreal object of contention. But if such a motive has to be alleged--or,\nstill worse, invented--the demonstration against it, however violent, is\nbut a reluctant and ungracious acknowledgment of defeat and a flight from\nthe real point at issue. The most recent instance of this sort is taking\nplace before the American public, and has been afforded by those who\nendeavor to represent Catholics as opposed to free and liberal education,\nthereby attainting the motives of the position which Catholics have been\nforced to assume with regard to what are falsely called \u201ccommon\u201d schools.\n\nThis attitude of our opponents, however, we regard not without\ncomplacency. Our object is not war, but peace and good-will among\ncitizens. We hail the present violent misrepresentation as a sign\nthat the enemy is close to the \u201clast ditch,\u201d and that the discussion\napproaches its conclusion. When this final effort to distort the Catholic\nobject and to asperse the Catholic character has exhausted itself and\nbeen held up to the inspection of the American people, we shall have\nseen the end of the \u201cschool question.\u201d We insist upon an improvement in\nour educational system which is necessary to perfect its character and\nto satisfy the requirements of the times. The present system does not\nmeet the wishes of a very large portion of the community, is unfair to\nothers besides Catholics, and is out of harmony with the spirit of free\ninstitutions. A system is wanted which shall at least be equal to that of\nmonarchical countries, fair to all citizens alike, and which will relieve\nCatholics from the double burden of educating their own children, besides\npaying for a system of education of which they cannot conscientiously\navail themselves.\n\nThe correctness of the Catholic position is so manifest, and is so\nrapidly gaining the recognition of all thoughtful classes, that those who\nare unwilling to allow Catholics equal rights as citizens are forced, in\norder to hide the truth, not only to maintain that the present system\nis absolutely perfect and incapable of any improvement, but to accuse\nCatholics of harboring ideas of which they are not only innocent, but\nwhich it would be wholly impossible for them to entertain--such as\nthat they are afraid of the light; that they attack the present system\nbecause they are inimical to all education; and that their object is, if\npossible, to do away with it altogether. Accusations similar to these\nare daily repeated, garnished with rhetoric, and sent forth to alarm our\nfellow-citizens and to encourage them to turn a deaf ear to whatever\nCatholics may say. The weak point of this movement against us is that\nthe people will notice that it does not deal at all with the validity\nof Catholic claims, and that it shirks the only question at issue. They\nwill be led to suspect that it is emphatically a \u201cdodge\u201d; and the mere\nsuspicion of this will awaken curiosity as to what Catholics really have\nto say--a curiosity fatal to the success of the flank attack.\n\nIn the language of those who advance the charge with which we propose\nto deal, education means either primary instruction in the elements of\nknowledge, or else higher academic culture, such as is to be furnished\nby colleges and universities. If, therefore, Catholics are hostile to\neducation, in this sense of the word, they must be opposed either to\nthe general spread of such information as is aimed at in elementary and\nnormal schools, or to the existence and growth of the higher institutions\nof science and art.\n\nWe are perfectly aware that there is another meaning given to the word\neducation, to which reference is made, simply in order to avoid obscurity.\n\nPhilosophers of the class to which Mr. Huxley belongs understand by\neducation a certain specific course of moral and intellectual training,\nthe aim of which is to ensure its pupils against ever being affected by\n\u201ctheological tendencies.\u201d Such impressions are to be made upon childhood,\nand matured in more advanced stages, as will rid men of that natural\nbut awkward habit of reasoning from cause to effect; which will free\nthem from all hope of any life but the present, and any fear of future\nresponsibility, in order that they may be impelled to devote themselves\nsolely to the analysis and classification of material phenomena, since\nthis is the only purpose of man\u2019s existence--such a course of spiritual\ndefloration as was practised upon the tender and noble genius of the late\nJohn Stuart Mill, the results of which, as manifested by the revelation\nof his biography, afford, in the words of an ingenuous, critic, \u201ca most\nunpleasant spectacle.\u201d A process of this kind is not education; it is a\nheartrending and lamentable destruction of that which is noblest and\nmost essential in man, and as a definition has not yet obtained a place\nin the English language.\n\nIf any of our readers would care to know our own ultimate definition\nof education, we should describe it as the complete and harmonious\ndevelopment of all the powers of man in reference to his true end. But\nfor present purposes it is sufficient to adopt the ordinary sense of the\nword, as meaning the diffusion of knowledge by scholastic exercises in\nacademies and colleges.\n\nIf it appears singular to enlightened Protestants to hear a demand for\ncircumscription and discouragement of Catholics, and, if possible, the\nsuppression of religious education, from that faction whose motto is\n\u201cLiberty and Light,\u201d we trust that it will seem none the less paradoxical\nto hear the charge of favoring ignorance urged with most vehemence\nagainst us by those whose boast, up to within a few years, has been \u201ca\nministry without education, and a way to heaven without grammar.\u201d\n\nThe first demand does not in the least surprise us, coming, as it does,\nfrom a crude and undigested assumption of the principles of European\nradicalism. We have seen its consistency illustrated by madmen chasing,\nrobbing, and killing one another to the cry of \u201cliberty, equality,\nfraternity.\u201d We understand what it is to be assaulted by this party,\nwhich knows not how to act except in the way of destruction, which is\nnever at rest except in the midst of agitation, and never at peace, so to\nspeak, except when at war.\n\nNor is it strange to see an attempt against Catholics made outside the\nfield of theological controversy, inasmuch as the result of controversy\nfor the past two centuries has tended rather to the disintegration of\nProtestantism than to the conversion of Catholics to the new faith. Nor\nis it surprising to find this assault directed against the equal rights\nof Catholics in education; for here some earnest but short-sighted men\nimagine that there is not simply ground to be gained, but that the\npresent system is a stronghold not to be given up. It is a stronghold,\ntruly, but rather of infidelity than of Protestantism.\n\nBut educated Protestants and heathen will marvel with us that the attack\nhas been made on the theory that Protestantism is the born friend, and\nCatholicity the natural enemy of education, knowing as well as we the\nfatal evidence of history.\n\nThe contempt for education which, until more recent times, has always\nexisted, to a certain extent, among the orthodox Protestants, was founded\nupon their erroneous doctrines of the total depravity of human nature,\nthe consequent invalidity of human reason, and the principle of private\nillumination.\n\nWhen Luther said, \u201cThe god Moloch, to whom the Jews immolated their\nchildren, is to-day represented by the universities\u201d (_Wider den\nMissbrauch der Messe_), it was not simply on the ground of the\nuniversities being centres of association for boisterous and disorderly\nyouth, or fortresses of the ancient faith, but because of that \u201cpagan and\nimpious science\u201d which was taught in them.\n\nIn his furious onslaught against them Luther was sustained by his\nwell-known hatred of anything which tended to assert the prerogatives\nof human nature or the dignity of reason. No man was ever more\nintemperate in denunciation than this so-called \u201cliberator of humanity\nand emancipator of human reason.\u201d \u201cTrue believers strangle reason,\u201d said\nhe; and he never alluded to it except in terms of most outrageous abuse.\nThe last sermon of his at Wittenberg[253] is monumental in this respect;\nand his well-known reply to the Anabaptists is one of the most startling\nexamples of his intensely idiomatic style.[254]\n\nThe feelings of the master were fully communicated to the disciples. The\nresults were fearful. The free schools which existed in every city were\noverturned by the very men whom they had educated; the _gymnasia_ were in\nmany places wholly destroyed, in others so reduced as never to recover\ntheir former position.\n\nAt Wittenberg itself the two preachers, Spohr and Gabriel Didymus,\nannounced from the pulpit that the study of science was not simply\nuseless but noxious, and that it was best to do away with the colleges\nand schools. The upshot was to change the academy of that city into a\nbakery. Similar measures were carried into effect throughout the entire\nduchy of Anspach. The history of the Reformation by Dr. D\u00f6llinger gives a\nlong list of the numerous scholars, rectors of high schools and colleges,\nwho were driven into exile, and also details a minute account of many of\nthe institutions which were destroyed.\n\nThe statements of Erasmus, as to the disastrous results of the\nReformation on studies, are constant and numberless. They may\nbe formulated in a sentence of one of his letters to Pirkheimer\n(1538): \u201c_Ubicumque regnat Lutheranismus, ibi litterarum est\ninteritus_\u201d--\u201cWherever Lutheranism reigns, there is the destruction of\nletters.\u201d\n\nThe testimony of Sturm, Schickfuss, Bucer, and others is no less\nforcible. Luther and Melancthon in later days seem to have been appalled\nby their own work, and George Major thus sums up the melancholy condition\nof things in his own day: \u201cThanks to the wickedness of men and the\ncontempt which we ourselves have shown for studies, the schools have more\nthan ever need of patrons and protectors to save them from ruin, and to\nprevent us from falling into a state of barbarism worse than that of\nTurks and Muscovites.\u201d\n\nThe interesting works of the Benedictines of St. Maur of the XVIIIth\ncentury, the Bollandists, and the collections of a few other Catholic\nscholars have preserved nearly all the material that is left from which\nto construct the history of the middle ages, so thorough was the work\nof destruction done on libraries by the Calvinists and Huguenots. The\nBodleian library is but a fragment--a few torn leaves of the literature\nwhich was weeded out of England by the enlightened zeal of the\nmuch-married father of Anglicanism.\n\n\u201cWhat mad work this Dr. Coxe did in Oxon, while he sat chancellor, by\nbeing the chief man that worked a reformation there, I have elsewhere\ntold you,\u201d says Anthony Wood \u201cTo return at length to the royal delegates,\nsome of whom yet remained in Oxford, doing such things as did not\nat all become those who professed to be learned and Christian men.\nFor the principal ornaments, and at the same time supports, of the\nuniversity--that is, the libraries, filled with innumerable works, both\nnative and foreign--they permitted or directed to be despoiled.\u2026 Works\nof scholastic theology were sold off among those exercising the lowest\ndescription of arts; and those which contained circles or diagrams it\nwas thought good to mutilate or burn, as containing certain proof of the\nmagical nature of their contents.\u201d\n\nWhat was left undone by the royal delegates was thoroughly attended to by\nthe Puritans, who never did their work by halves, and whose views with\nregard to the Bible and literature bore a close resemblance to those of\nthe early Mohammedans in their comparative estimate of the Koran and\nsecular writings.\n\nFor a full account of the effect of the revolution of the XVIth century\non learning, people who may suspect Catholic writers of exaggeration can\ncompare their statements with those of the learned Protestant Huber, in\nhis exhaustive history of the universities. Even \u201chonest Latimer,\u201d who\ncertainly was not a zealot for profane learning, lifted up his voice in\ncomplaint: \u201cIt would pity a man\u2019s heart to hear that that I hear of the\nstate of Cambridge; what it is in Oxford I cannot tell.\u201d How it was at\nOxford we have already seen. Throughout the length and breadth of the\nland the monastic schools, which were asylums both of mercy and learning,\nwere destroyed; the mere list of their names, as given by the Protestant\nhistorian Cobbett, occupies one hundred and forty-five pages of his\nwork. The present condition of the lower classes in England, which is\ndue to their being thus deprived of means of education and assistance\nin distress, is the Nemesis of the Reformation. In listening to the\ndemand that the government shall dispossess the present landlords as\nit despoiled the churchmen of old, we hear arguments of fearful power\nas to the extent of eminent domain. When it is asked why the crown and\npeople shall not exercise for the common good the prerogative which was\nconceded and exercised formerly for the benefit of the crown alone, the\npresent holders of property acquired by sacrilege may well take alarm\nat the progress of revolutionary ideas. And the question as to how far\nthe people were forcibly deprived of the benefits of a trust vested for\nthem in the church, may be decided \u201cwithout constitutional authority and\nthrough blood.\u201d God avert such a calamity from England! May the prayers\nof Catholic martyrs, of More and Fisher, intercede in her behalf, and\nsave her from the consequences of that act, to prevent which, these,\nher truest sons, did not hesitate to offer up their lives! However,\nwith these facts in view, it is scarcely wise for English Protestantism\nto assume the position of a necessary and perpetual friend of popular\neducation. It is best to wait until the ink has become dry which has\nscored from the statute book of that realm the law making it felony to\nteach the alphabet to Catholics.\n\nIt would be gratifying to us to contrast with the conduct of the authors\nof Protestantism that of the great educators of Europe who laid the\nfoundations of our civilization. A fierce and violent revolution has\nturned that civilization aside, and introduced into it principles of\nanarchy and death. A shallow and ungrateful era has failed to perceive\nand to acknowledge its debts. It is only in the pages of scholars such\nas Montalembert, the Protestants Maitland and Huber, and the author of\nthat recent modest but most charming book entitled _Christian Schools and\nScholars_, that we begin to notice a thoughtful inquiry into the history\nof our intellectual development. The masters slumber in forgetfulness\nand oblivion. We know not the builders of the great structures of the\nmiddle ages; and people generally know almost as little of its great\nintellectual and social system. The history of the human race for a\nthousand years of most intense activity is summed up in a few unmeaning\nwords.\n\nTime and space fail for such a comparison. But the fact that the first\nProtestants found themselves educated, the fact that they found schools\nto denounce and to destroy, in the XVIth century, is sufficient to\njustify us with regard to history prior to that date.\n\nIt would also be a pleasure to describe the progress of those magnificent\nbodies of Catholic educators which rose, under divine inspiration, as a\ncheck to the wave of revolution, and whose successes first stimulated\nthe action of Protestants by the wholesome influence of fear. But this\nalso is beyond our compass. We are ready to discuss the charge that\nCatholics are opposed to education, independently of all reference to\nProtestantism, by the test of positive facts, and to stand or fall by the\nCatholic record in modern times.\n\nIt is not necessary to cross the ocean or to visit countries where the\nmunificence of ages has endowed the universities of Catholic lands; as,\nfor instance, the seven great universities of the Papal States--Ferrara,\nBologna, Urbino, Macerata, Camerino, Perugia, and Rome, each containing\nthousands of students. Nor is it necessary to remind the reader that\nthe great Protestant universities, and notably those of England, are,\nto use the expression of a distinguished Anglican prelate, \u201ca legacy\nof Catholicism.\u201d The charge that Catholics are opposed to university\neducation is simply laughable, considering that the university is\nessentially a Catholic idea, and has never, even in Europe, been\nsuccessfully counterfeited.\n\nIt is not necessary, although it may be instructive, to refer to the\nfree schools of the city of Rome, which, according to the testimony of\na Protestant traveller, thirty years ago surpassed even those of Berlin\nin efficiency and relative number. They were, before the recent seizure\nby the Piedmontese government, the most numerous in proportion to the\npopulation and the most varied in character of any city in the world.\nThey presented to their scholars the choice of day or night with regard\nto time, and prepared them for every profession, art, and trade. This\nmatchless variety was doubtless the result of centuries of growth; but it\nwas also the spontaneous outcome of zeal for education, and laid not a\npenny of taxation upon the people. So high was the standard of gratuitous\neducation that private schools, at the beginning of the reign of our Holy\nFather Pius IX., had to struggle hard in order to retain the patronage\nof the wealthy classes. At that time there were in Rome 27 institutions\nand 387 schools for free education. Of these last, 180 were for little\nchildren of both sexes. Of the remainder, 94 were devoted to males and\n113 to females. The total number of pupils in elementary schools amounted\nto 14,157, of which number 3,790 were of the infant class. Of those more\nadvanced, 5,544 were males and 4,823 females. In elementary schools,\n_purely gratuitous_, 7,579 received education--viz., 3,952 boys and 3,627\ngirls.\n\nThere appears, however, in Cardinal Morichini\u2019s report, a feature which\nhas never yet been introduced into the American system--to wit, in\n_schools paying a small pension_ there were 1,592 boys and 1,196 girls;\nmaking a total in such schools of 2,788. This last item may furnish a\nhint to those who are anxious to secure the attendance of poor children\nin our own schools; although it is scarcely practicable where common\neducation has to be provided by taxation alone. Of these 387 schools to\nwhich we have referred, 26 belonged to religious communities of men,\nand 23 to religious communities of women. The rest belonged to, or were\nconducted by, seculars. Besides these, 2,213 children of both sexes\nreceived free instruction in special conservatories.\n\nIn addition to this system of free primary education, there was the vast\nsystem of colleges and academies connected with the university, the\nadvantages of which were at the command of the most limited and humble\nmeans.\n\nIt would be interesting to ask some of the high-school graduates in this\ncountry the simple historical question, \u201cWho, in modern times; have done\nmost for free education?\u201d General Grant has doubtlessly contributed\nliberally towards it; so, it is to be presumed, has Mr. Blaine; so have\nmany other distinguished lecturers on the subject of education. But\nif the question is rightly answered, the date will have to be assigned\nmuch earlier, and St. Joseph Calasanctius, Venerable de la Salle,\nCatherine McAuley, and a hundred thousand other \u201cPapists\u201d will have to\ntake precedence of our illustrious fellow-citizens. The spectacle of\none Christian Brother, or Ursuline Nun, or Sister of Mercy whose life\nis devoted to the instruction of the poor, with no recompense but the\nsweet privilege of being worn out in the service of fellow-men for the\nsake of Jesus Christ--such a spectacle as was afforded by the gifted\nGerald Griffin, or by Mother Seton in our own country, and is daily shown\namong us by thousands of calm, intelligent men and amiable women, in the\nvarious religious orders--this is a testimony to education which none but\nCatholics can produce. And yet these men and women, these bright martyrs\nof charity, are they whom it is thought good to attack by every means\nwithin the reach of calumny.\n\nLet it be understood that we do not overlook the efforts made by\nnoble men and women in the ranks of Protestantism. Though few, and\ninsignificant in intensity of zeal when compared with the daily and\ncommon sacrifices made by Catholics, nevertheless it must be borne in\nmind that these isolated attempts have been ineffectual, save only in\nso far as they have produced imperfect copies of the great works of\nCatholicity. Protestantism, as such, has never prompted or organized\nany great attempt at general free primary education. Indeed, it might\nbe safely challenged to produce any instance of the kind. And if the\nAmerican people to-day were to be seized with remorse for its injustice\ntowards Catholics, and to propose immediately to do away with all public\nschools, we should object most strongly on the ground that no adequate\nmeans would then exist for the education of Protestant children. The\nproblem of general education has never been faced by Protestantism. The\nsystem of godless education is an extremely modern and thoroughly pagan\nidea. If it has found favor among the leaders of Protestantism, this\nhas been because they have accepted it as a solution of the educational\nproblem; not having given the matter sufficient attention to observe the\nruinous effect which it is producing on themselves.\n\nFrom similar thoughtlessness comes their maintenance of the present\nsystem. It is a comparatively cheap solution, as far as individuals are\nconcerned. It calls for no sacrifices. It is supposed to be sufficiently\nProtestant as long as the Bible is read in the schools. But if the\npresent movement of the infidel party succeeds, and the \u201ccommon\u201d schools\nare reduced to purely irreligious institutions, the matter will soon\nforce itself upon Protestant attention. We are convinced that they will\nperceive that Catholics have given the subject much more consideration\nthan they supposed, and have been right throughout. Many of them will\nregret having misunderstood our views, and will be prepared to endorse\nthe proposition that such schools are subversive of Christianity and\ndemoralizing in their tendency. They will then endeavor to repair the\nevils which may still result from their ill-judged neglect of Catholic\nremonstrance. They will demand to be put upon at least an equal footing\nwith infidels, probably with as much vehemence as Catholics have\ndemanded an equal footing for all citizens alike. If they find themselves\nhopelessly debarred from this by the radical changes in the constitution\nwhich some of their number are even now proposing, they will impeach\nthese amendments. This failing, they will find themselves in the position\nin which Catholics now are. Then, for the first time in history, will\nProtestantism have a fair chance to show how much it cares for education.\n\nBut, as already intimated, it is not necessary to cross the seas to\ndiscover testimony in rebuttal of the gratuitous slander which is urged\nagainst Catholics. Nor is there need to summon from the tomb the teachers\nof those who founded the so-called Reformation, nor to institute an\nhistoric comparison between the labors of Catholics and Protestants.\nStill less need is there to attempt to penetrate the future as to what\nCatholics may do for education when they are relieved of one-half of\ntheir present twofold burden.\n\nWe live in the XIXth century and in America; and in this, very age and\ncountry Catholics are doing more for education than is actually done\nby any other denomination, and, in proportion to their numbers and\nmeans, more than is done by all other denominations put together, which\noutnumber Catholics by at least four to one--Catholics, forsooth, who are\nimpudently charged with being opposed to primary schools and collegiate\ntraining!\n\nThis assertion will doubtless sound strangely in the ears of those who\nhave allowed themselves to remain in ignorance of the facts which we\nshall presently adduce. But, in view of them, it will be acknowledged\nthat our statement is the most modest that can be made, and that, if\ndisposed to be boastful, we could increase it many fold without fear\nof exaggeration. Catholics in this country have, it is true, no great\nuniversity such as those produced by the efforts and endowments of\ngenerations. Besides the lack of time necessary for such a development,\ntwo other causes have thus far prevented its origin. The first is the\npoverty of Catholics here--not simply their lack of means--but the fact\nthat the extent of the country and the comparatively small number of very\nwealthy families require that educational institutions of the higher\nclass should be plentifully distributed. Secondly, Catholic resources\nhave actually been applied to satisfy this condition of things. We\nfeel quite sanguine that, before the close of the century, in spite of\nall disadvantages, a Catholic university of the very highest character\nwill be established here; but, without it, there exist at present, in\nevery city of importance throughout the Union, colleges which, for\nscholarship, will fairly compete with the chartered universities of this\ncountry, and which, in certain localities and in special departments,\nwill surpass their older and more pretentious rivals. Although these\ncolleges do not approach the ideal of a university--_i.e._, a great\ncity of learning, which can no more be built in a day than a great\ncommercial metropolis--nevertheless there is no reason to be ashamed of\nour colleges. Scarcely one of them can be found which does not contain\nthe children of non-Catholics, sent thither by the preference of parents\nand guardians. Our great academies for young ladies are recognized as\npossessing advantages which are without a parallel; and, as a class, the\nconvent schools for girls are without even a rival, and contain a very\nlarge proportion of Protestant children.\n\nNor are Catholics lacking in efforts to provide primary education for\nCatholic children, although their efforts in this direction are sadly out\nof proportion to their necessities. In higher intellectual culture the\nwealthy are naturally interested. They must provide suitable education\nfor their children. To do this in every place is a most severe tax upon\nthem. Nevertheless, it has been their duty to accomplish this, and,\nat the same time, to subscribe liberally toward the education of the\nchildren of their poorer brethren.\n\nThe poorer classes, also, with less natural impulse to make sacrifices\nfor education, exposed to the temptation of hundreds of proselytizing\ninstitutions, forced to pay also for the lavish expenditure of the\npublic schools, have had to bear the burden of procuring the necessary\ninstruction for their children without exposing them to sectarianism and\nthe scorn of their religion too often openly manifested in the \u201ccommon\u201d\nschools. How far they have done their duty will presently be shown.\nHonorable men shall judge whether they have or have not valued education.\nBut if it be suddenly discovered that they have valued it, let it be\nacknowledged also that they have acted as Catholics and from the deepest\nreligious motives.\n\nThe general statistics of the Catholic Church in America are very\nimperfect. Nevertheless, from the _Catholic Directory_ of 1875 a few\nfigures may be gleaned which will abundantly sustain the statements here\nadvanced. It is to be regretted that the statistics as given in the\n_Directory_ are not more complete, those of some dioceses being quite\nminute and exact, those of others very imperfect.\n\nWith regard to colleges and academies for higher education, there are,\nunder Catholic direction, in the United States, at least 540, with an\nattendance of not less than 48,000 pupils. In dioceses of which both\nthe numbers of institutions and their attendance have been given there\nare 270 institutions, with an attendance of 24,000. A mathematical\ncomputation gives for the attendance in the others the amount which we\nhave allowed as a safe estimate--viz., a total attendance of no less than\n48,000 souls. How does this appear to those who have listened hitherto\nto the revilers of Catholics? Are we right in repelling their charge, or\nare they right, who have nothing but their angry feelings with which to\nsustain it?\n\nIf Catholics are wanting in zeal for education, the spirit of obstruction\nis not apparent in their higher institutions. But, as we have said,\nthe mass of our people are poor. What provision have they made for\nthemselves, besides paying for the education of others?\n\nThe Catholic parochial schools are principally designed to supply the\nneed of Catholic education for the masses. It would be wrong, however, to\nconsider them as merely primary schools. Many of the parochial schools\nare really high schools, and have a course of studies equal to the best\nnormal schools. Nevertheless, under the head of parish schools are not\nincluded any of those already mentioned as colleges or academies. In\nthe Archdiocese of Cincinnati there are 140 parish schools, in which\nare educated about 35,000 children free of cost to the State. In the\nArchdiocese of New York there are 93 parish schools, with not less than\n37,600 children. In the Diocese of Cleveland there are 100 parish schools\nand 16,000 children. In some places the attendance of the Catholic\nschools is fully equal to that of the public schools. So that in these\ndistricts Catholics not only pay for the education of their own children,\nbut half the expenses of the public schools, and--supposing both systems\nto be conducted with equal economy--enough to pay for the education\nof all the other children as well as their own, _free of cost_ to\nProtestants, Jews, and infidels. And yet Catholics are charged with being\nhostile to education!\n\nIn the United States we have statistics of 1,400 parochial schools, the\ngiven attendance at which amounts to 320,000 pupils. The entire number of\nparish schools foots up 1,700, and the total figure of attendance may be\nset down at 400,000 scholars. Add to this the number of 48,000 who are\nbeing educated in colleges and academies, and farther increase the sum by\nthe probable number of children in asylums, reformatories, and industrial\nschools, and there will appear something very like half a million of\nscholars who are receiving their education at the expense of Catholics.\n\nTaking into account Catholic numbers, Catholic means, and the time in\nwhich Catholics have made these provisions for education, we can safely\nchallenge, not only every denomination singly, but all of them put\ntogether, to show any corresponding interest in the matter of education,\nwhether elementary or scientific. This challenge is made, not in the\nspirit of pride (though certainly without shame), but in the name of\ntruth and of generous rivalry to outstrip all others in the service\nof humanity and our country. Let it stand as the fittest reply to the\ndisingenuous charge that Catholics are opposed to education.\n\nThe candid reader to whom these facts are new will use his own language\nin characterizing the \u201cflank movement\u201d against Catholics, and will\nbe disposed to credit us with honesty and consistency in our open\ncriticism of the present hastily-adopted system of education. But we\nare persuaded that he will also be led, if not to make, at least to\nconcur in, farther reflections on the facts which are here adduced. If\nCatholics are actually providing instruction for so vast a number of the\npeople of the United States, is not this a very considerable saving to\nthe public? We think it is. The average cost of education in New York\nCity is $13 60 per child; in the State of New York, $11; in the United\nStates and Territories, $9 26. The saving represented by such a number\nin our schools amounts, at the rate of New York City, to $6,800,000;\nat the rate of the State of New York, to $5,500,000, and at the lowest\nrate, to $4,630,000 per annum. In addition to this direct saving, we must\nbe credited with the amount of our taxes for the public schools. When\nCatholics stand before the American people, and state the reasons why\nthey do not consider the present educational system that prevails here to\nbe either wise or just, they are not beggars in any sense. They ask for\nno favor. They demand an equitable system of disbursing the funds raised\nfor education, so that no class of citizens shall be deprived of that for\nwhich they are forced to contribute. They would arrange it so that none\ncould justly complain. As Catholics, we must have religion and morality\n(which, whatever others may think, are to us inseparable) taught in the\nschools to which we send our children. No time or place will ever alter\nour convictions on this point. What we demand for ourselves we gladly\nconcede to others. We are ready to consult with them on a common and just\nbasis of agreement. Nothing is wanting for a harmonious settlement except\nfairness on the part of our opponents. There is no flaw in our position,\nno evil design in our heart, nor have we the slightest disposition to\ndrive a close bargain. Let the word be spoken. Let any of the Protestant\ndenominations make a step forward, intimate a desire for settlement on\nthe basis of equal justice to all, and Catholics are with them. But while\nwe thus maintain our demand as strictly just, whether it be received or\nrejected, we are not debtors but creditors of the state. We not only ask\nour fellow-citizens, Will you stand by and see us taxed for a system of\neducation of which we cannot conscientiously avail ourselves? but we\nfurther ask, Can you, as honest men, disregard what Catholics are doing\nfor education? Do you want them not only to educate their own children,\nthereby saving you this cost, but to educate yours also?\n\nWhat kind of a soul has the man or the nation who would deliberately\nresist such an appeal? The time will come when people will ask--as,\nindeed, many do ask at present--\u201cWhy is not a louder outcry made for\nthe Catholics in the school question?\u201d And the answer is that we feel\na certainty, which nothing can shake, that the American people are\nintelligent enough to understand Catholics after a time; and when they\ndo understand them, they will be fair enough to do them justice.\n\nIn the meantime let the Catholic laborer pay not only for the education\nof his own children at the parish school, and save this expense to\nhis rich neighbor; let him also pay for the same neighbor\u2019s children,\nnot merely in primary schools, but in high schools, where ladies and\ngentlemen (whom poverty does not drive to labor at the age when the poor\nman\u2019s children have to be apprenticed) may learn French and German and\nmusic, and to declaim on the glorious principles of American liberty and\nof the Constitution, under which all men are (supposed to be) free and\nequal. We love to hear their young voices and hearty eloquence. Let these\ninstitutions be costly in structure and furnished with every improvement.\nLet the teachers have high salaries. Let gushing editors issue forth,\nto manifest to the astonished world the wisdom and deep thought which\nthey have acquired at the expense of their humbler and self-sacrificing\nneighbor. But let honest and thoughtful men ponder on the meaning of\nAmerican equality, and judge who are the true friends of education.\nThe wages of the laborers will be spent, if the shallowness and crude\nimperfection of the present system are learned, and the spirit of equal\nrights among citizens peacefully preserved; though the credit will belong\nto those who have kept their calmness of mind and made the greatest\nsacrifices.\n\nThe candid reader to whom we have alluded will readily admit that\nCatholics are true friends of education, and are doing most for it\nproportionately to their means; that, instead of suspicion and abuse,\nthey deserve respect, honor, and acknowledgment of their services.\n\nWe think, however, that our fellow-citizens will go much farther, and\nwill, in time, endorse our statement when we affirm that Catholics at\npresent, and as a body, are the only true friends of popular education.\nBy this is not meant simply to say that they have not been backward in\nobtaining, by their intelligence and integrity, the highest positions in\nthe country; that they count as representatives such men as Chief-Justice\nTaney, Charles O\u2019Conor, a Barry at the head of the navy, a Sheridan and\na Rosecrans in the army, and others of the highest national and local\nreputation; or that, when the Roman purple fell upon the shoulders of the\nArchbishop of New York, it suffered no loss of dignity in touching a true\nand patriotic American, well fitted to wear it in any court or academy\nof Europe. But we do mean that, outside of the Catholic Church and those\nwho sympathize with our views on this subject, there is no body whose\nrepresentatives are not biassed in their plan for common education by\nprejudice or hostility toward some other body.\n\nWith what utter disregard for the rights of conscience the infidel and\natheistic faction coolly avows its purpose to enforce a secular and\nirreligious education upon all the people--a system known to be no less\nantagonistic to the spirit of our democratic institutions than hostile to\nthe religious convictions of Catholics as well as Protestants! What loud\noutcries and stormy denunciations echo from certain popular pulpits when\nthis faction demands the expulsion of the Bible from the public schools!\nIs any person cool in the midst of this confusion? Is there any class of\ncitizens which looks to the common good and adheres to the principle of\nequal regard for religious rights and education free for all? There are\nsuch persons. There is such a class. Those are they who never shrink from\navowing their principles, and whose principles are always right, in spite\nof temporary unpopularity--the representatives of the Catholic Church of\nAmerica.\n\nWhen the excitement of the hour has died away, and the schemes of\npoliticians to gain power by fastening upon the country a system fatal to\nliberty, and radical in its assault upon the spirit of our government,\nhave met their just fate, then we shall receive the honor due to those\nwho have defended the country from the danger of adopting partisan\nmeasures aimed against a certain class of citizens.\n\nWe hope to live to see the day when there will not be a child in the\nwhole land capable of instruction who shall not receive a thorough\neducation, fitting him to be a patriotic citizen of our country, and,\nat the same time, in nowise interfering with his religious duties.\nThe present system signally fails to accomplish this. Those who so\nstrenuously uphold its organization and attempt to make it compulsory\nupon all are hostile to the genius of our institutions and fanatical\nin their zeal. That they are not lovers of education is evident from\ntheir own ignorance of facts. That they are in earnest when they charge\nCatholics with hostility to education we can scarcely believe; for we\nhear from the same lips hints and warnings against Catholic success in\neducation. We hear also that the Catholic Church is growing, and, unless\nsomething is done to stop her, she will convert all the Protestants\nin the country; and, still at other times, that she is an effete and\nworn-out thing which cannot live through the century in a free republic.\nAt one time Catholics are derided as idiots; at another represented\nas deep and insidious conspirators. There is scarcely anything which\nis not affirmed or denied of them, according as it suits the mood of\ntheir revilers. If our people were cooler and more dispassionate, we\nshould find all those calumnies answering one another. As it is, we are\nconstrained to pay them more or less attention, though the nature of the\ntestimony against us scarcely allows us to take up more than one point at\na time.\n\nIf Catholics or Methodists or Episcopalians or Baptists can give a\nbetter and a cheaper education, we see no reason why the state should\ninterfere with those who choose to avail themselves of it. Let the state\nset up any standard it may choose, or make it obligatory; Catholics\nwill cheerfully come up to it, no matter how high it may be, provided\nequal rights are allowed to all. The government has a right to demand\nthat its voters shall possess knowledge. It has no right to say how or\nwhere they shall acquire knowledge. The government is bound by public\npolicy to promote education. This is to be done by stimulating in this\ndepartment the same activity which has made Americans famous in other\nbranches of social economy, by encouraging spontaneous action, and not\nby an ill-judged system of \u201cprotection\u201d of one kind of education against\nanother, or by creating a state monopoly. Bespeaking candor and due\nrespect on the part of those who may differ from us, we take our stand on\nwhat we conceive to be the true American ground, and are willing to abide\nby the consequences--fair play, universal culture, obligatory knowledge,\nnon-interference of the state in religion, and free trade in education.\n\n\nSUGGESTED BY A CASCADE AT LAKE GEORGE.\n\n    Not idly could I watch this torrent fall\n      Hour after hour; not vainly day by day\n      Visit the spot to meditate and pray.\n    The charm that holds me in its giant thrall\n    Has too much of the infinite to pall.\n      For though, like time, the waters pass away,\n      They fling a freshness, a baptismal spray,\n    Which breathes of the Eternal Fount of all.\n    And so, my God, does thy revealed word,\n      In living dogma or on sacred page,\n    Flow to us ever new; though read and heard\n      Immutably the same from age to age.\n      And thither Nature sends us to assuage\n    The higher longings by her voices stirred.\n\n\nSIR THOMAS MORE.\n\n_A HISTORICAL ROMANCE._\n\nFROM THE FRENCH OF THE PRINCESSE DE CRAON.\n\nV.\n\nTime glides rapidly by, leaving no footprints on the dreary road\nover which it has passed, as the wild billows, rolling back into the\nfathomless depths whence the tempest has called them forth, leave no\ntraces behind them. And so passes life--fleeting rapidly, noiselessly\naway; while man, weary with striving, tortured by cares and unceasing\nanxieties, is born, suffers, weeps, and in a day has withered, and, like\na fragile flower of the field, perishes from the earth.\n\nWolsey, fallen from the summit of prosperity, continued to experience a\nsuccession of reverses. Unceasingly exposed to the malice of his enemies,\nhe struggled in vain against their constantly-increasing influence; and\nif they failed in bringing about his death, they succeeded, at least,\nin poisoning every moment of his existence. Thus, at the time even when\nHenry VIII. had sent him a valuable ring as a token of amity, they forced\nthe king to despoil the wretched man of the valuable possessions which\nthey pretended to wish restored to him. He received one day from his\nmaster a new assurance of his royal solicitude; the next, his resources\nfailing, he was obliged, for want of money, to dismiss his old servants\nand remain alone in his exile.\n\nCromwell, with an incredible adroitness, had succeeded by degrees in\ndisengaging himself from the obligations he owed the cardinal, and\nin making the downfall and misfortunes of his master serve to advance\nhis own interests. He had made numerous friends among the throng of\ncourtiers surrounding the king, in obtaining from the unhappy Wolsey his\nrecognition of the distribution which the king had made of his effects,\nby adding the sanction of his own seal. After repeated refusals on the\npart of the cardinal, he was at last successful in convincing him of\nthe urgent necessity for making this concession, in order to try, he\nsaid with apparent sincerity, to lessen the animosity and remove the\nprejudices they entertained against him. But, in reality, the intention\nof Cromwell had been, by that man\u0153uvre, to strip him of his entire\npossessions; for the courtiers, being well aware their titles were not\nvalid under the law, were every moment afraid they might be called on to\nsurrender the gifts they had received, and consequently desired nothing\nso much as to have the cardinal confirm them in their unjust possessions.\n\nIt was by means of this monstrous ingratitude that Cromwell purchased the\nfavor of the court, began to elevate himself near the king in receiving\nnew dignities and honors, and at length found himself saved from the\nfate he had so greatly apprehended at the moment of his benefactor\u2019s\ndownfall. Of what consequence was Wolsey to him now? Banished from his\narchbishopric of York, he was but a broken footstool which Cromwell no\nlonger cared to remember. He scarcely deigned to employ his new friends\nin having Wolsey (reduced to the condition of an invalid) removed from\nthe miserable abode at Asher to the better situated castle of Richmond;\nand later, when the heads of the council, always apprehensive and uneasy\nbecause of his existence, obtained his peremptory exile, he considered\nthis departure as completely liberating him from every obligation to his\nold benefactor.\n\nEvents were thus following each other in rapid succession, when, toward\nthe middle of the day, the door of the king\u2019s cabinet opened, and Sir\nThomas More, in the grand costume of lord chancellor, entered as had been\nhis custom.\n\nThe king turned slightly around on his chair, and fixed upon him a\nsearching glance, as if he sought to read the inmost soul of More.\n\nThe countenance of the chancellor was tranquil, respectful, and assured,\nsuch as it had always been. In vain Henry sought to discover the\nindications of fear, the impetuous desires and ambitions which he was\naccustomed to excite or contradict in the agitated heart of Wolsey, and\nby which, in his turn master of his favorite, of his future, and of his\ngreat talents, he made him pay so dearly for the honors at intervals\nheaped upon him.\n\nNothing of all this could he discover! More seated himself when invited\nby the king, and entered upon the discussion of a multitude of affairs\nto which he had been devoting himself with unremitting attention day and\nnight.\n\n\u201cSire,\u201d he would urge, \u201cthis measure will be most useful to your\nkingdom; sire, justice, it seems to me, requires you to give such a\ndecision in that case.\u201d\n\nNever were any other considerations brought to bear nor other demands\nmade; nothing for himself, nothing for his family, but all for the good\nof the state, the interests of the people; silence upon all subjects\nhis conscience did not oblige him to reveal, though the king perceived\nonly too clearly the inmost depths of the pure and elevated soul of his\nchancellor.\n\nBy dazzling this man of rare virtues with a fortune to which a simple\ngentleman could never aspire, Henry had hoped to allure him to his own\nparty and induce him to sustain the divorce bill. Thus, by a monstrous\ncontradiction, in corrupting him by avarice and ambition, he would have\ndestroyed the very virtues on which he wished to lean. He perceived with\nindignation that all his artifices had been unsuccessful in influencing\na will accustomed to yield only to convictions of duty, and he feared\nhis ability to move him by any of the indirect and abstract arguments\nwhich he felt and acknowledged to himself were weak and insufficient.\nRevolving all these reflections in his mind, the king eagerly opened the\nconversation with More, but in a quiet tone and with an air of assumed\nindifference.\n\n\u201cWell! Sir Thomas,\u201d he said, \u201chave you reflected on what I asked you?\nDo you not find now that my marriage with my brother\u2019s wife was in\nopposition to all laws human and divine, and that I cannot do otherwise\nthan have it pronounced null and void, after being thus advised by so\nmany learned men, and ecclesiastics also?\u201d\n\n\u201cSire,\u201d replied More, \u201cI have done what your majesty requested me; but\nit occurs to my mind that, in an affair of so much importance, it will\nnot be sufficient to ask simply the advice of those immediately around\nyou; for it might be feared that, influenced by the affection they bear\nfor you, they would not decide as impartially as your majesty would\ndesire. Perhaps, also, some of them might be afraid of offending you. I\nhave, therefore, concluded that it would be better for your majesty to\nconsult advisers who are entirely removed from all such suspicions. That\nis why I have endeavored to collect together in this manuscript I have\nhere the various passages of Holy Scripture bearing on this subject. I\nhave added also the opinions of S. Augustine and several other fathers\nof the church, with whose eminent learning and high authority among the\nfaithful your majesty is familiar.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh!\u201d said the king, with a slightly-marked movement of impatience, \u201cthat\nwas right. Leave it there; I will read it.\u201d\n\nSir Thomas deposited the manuscript on the king\u2019s table.\n\n\u201cMy lord chancellor,\u201d he continued, \u201cthe House of Commons has taken some\nsteps toward discharging my debts. What do they think of this in the\ncity?\u201d\n\n\u201cSire,\u201d replied More, \u201cI must tell you candidly they complain openly and\nloudly. They say if the ministers had not taken care to introduce into\nthe house members who had received their positions from themselves, the\nbill would never have passed; for it is altogether unjust and iniquitous\nfor Parliament to dispose in this manner of private property. They say\nstill farther that it has been inserted in the preamble of the bill that\nthe prosperity of the kingdom under the king\u2019s paternal administration\nhad induced them to testify their gratitude by discharging his debts.\nIf this pretext is sincere, it reflects the greatest honor on Cardinal\nWolsey; and if, on the contrary, it is false, it covers his successors\nwith shame.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat!\u201d exclaimed the king, \u201cdo they dare express themselves in this\nmanner?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d replied Sir Thomas; \u201cand I will frankly say to the king that it\nwould have been far better to have imposed a new tax supported equally by\nall than thus to despoil individuals of their patrimony.\u201d\n\n\u201cThey are never contented!\u201d exclaimed the king impatiently. \u201cI have\nsacrificed Wolsey to their hatred, whom there is no person in the kingdom\nnow able to replace. This Dr. Gardiner torments me with questions which\nare far from satisfactory to his dull comprehension. Everything goes\nwrong, unless I take the trouble of managing it myself; while with the\ncardinal the slightest suggestion was sufficient. I constantly feel\ninclined to recall him! Then we will see what they will say! But no!\u201d\nhe continued, with an expression of gloomy sullenness, \u201cthey gave me no\nrest until I had banished him from his archbishopric of York. It was,\nthey said, the sole means of preventing Parliament from pronouncing his\ncondemnation. By this time he is doubtless already reconciled; he is so\nvain a creature that the three or four words I have said in his favor to\nmy nobles of the north will have been worth more to him than the homage\nand adulation of a court, without which he cannot exist. He is pious now,\nthey say, occupying himself only with good works and in doing penance\nfor his many sins of the past. In fact, he is entirely reconciled!\nHe has already forgotten all that I have done for him! I shall devote\nmyself, then, to those who now serve me!\u201d\n\n\u201cI doubt very much if your majesty has been correctly informed with\nregard to the latter fact,\u201d replied More. \u201cIndeed, I know that the order\ncompelling him to be entirely removed from your majesty\u2019s presence is the\none that caused him the deepest grief.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! More,\u201d interrupted the king very suddenly, as if to take him by\nsurprise, \u201cyou are opposed to my divorce. I have known it perfectly well\nfor a long time; and these extracts from the fathers of the church to\nwhich you refer me are simply the expression of your own opinions, which\nyou wish to convey to me in this indirect manner.\u201d\n\n\u201cSire,\u201d replied More, slightly embarrassed, \u201cI had hoped your majesty\nwould not force me to give my opinion on a subject of such grave\nimportance, and one, as I have already explained, on which I possess\nneither the authority nor the ability to decide.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! well, Sir Thomas,\u201d replied the king in a confident manner, wishing\nto discover what effect his words would produce on More, \u201cbeing entirely\nconvinced of the justice of my cause, and that nothing can prevent me\nfrom availing myself of it, I am determined, if the pope refuses what\nI have a right to demand, to withdraw from the tyrannical yoke of his\nauthority. I will appoint a patriarch in my kingdom, and the bishops\nshall no longer submit to his jurisdiction.\u201d\n\n\u201cA schism!\u201d exclaimed More, \u201ca schism! Dismember the church of Jesus\nChrist for a woman!\u201d\n\nAnd he paused, appalled at what Henry had said and astonished at his own\nenergetic denunciation.\n\nThe king felt, as by a violent shock, all the force of that exclamation,\nand, dropping his head on his breast, he remained stupefied, like one who\nhad just been aroused from a painful and terrible dream.\n\nJust at that moment the cabinet door was thrown violently open, and Lady\nAnne Boleyn entered precipitately. She was drowned in tears, and carried\nin her arms a hunting spaniel that belonged to the king.\n\nShe threw it into the centre of the apartment, evidently in a frightful\nrage.\n\n\u201cHere,\u201d she cried, looking at the king--\u201chere is your wretched dog, that\nhas tried to strangle my favorite bird! You never do anything but try\nto annoy me, make me miserable, and cause me all kinds of intolerable\nvexations. I have told you already that I did not want that horrid animal\nin my chamber.\u201d\n\nIn the meantime the dog, which she had thrown on the floor, set up a\nlamentable howl.\n\nThe king felt deeply humiliated by this ridiculous scene, and especially\non account of the angry familiarity exhibited by Anne Boleyn in presence\nof Sir Thomas More; for she either forgot herself in her extreme\nexcitement and indignation, or she believed her empire so securely\nestablished that she did not hesitate to give these proofs of it. She\ncontinued her complaints and reproaches with increasing haughtiness,\nuntil she was interrupted by Dr. Stephen Gardiner, who came to bring some\nnewly-arrived despatches to the king.\n\nHenry arose immediately, and, motioning Sir Thomas to open the door,\nwithout saying a word, he took Anne Boleyn by the hand, and, leading her\nfrom the room, ordered her to retire to her own apartment.\n\nHe then returned, and, seating himself near the chancellor, concealed, as\nfar as he was able, his excitement and mortification.\n\nSir Thomas, still more excited, could not avoid, as they went over the\ndespatches, indignantly reflecting on the manner in which Anne Boleyn\nhad treated the king, on his deplorable infatuation, and the terrible\nconsequences to which that infatuation must inevitably lead.\n\nThe king, divining the nature of his reflections, experienced a degree of\nhumiliation that made him inexpressibly miserable.\n\n\u201cWhat say these despatches?\u201d he asked, endeavoring to assume composure.\n\u201cWhat does More think of me?\u201d he said to himself--\u201che so grave, so pious,\nso dignified! He despises me!\u2026 That silly girl!\u201d\n\n\u201cThey give an account of the emperor\u2019s reception of the Earl of\nWiltshire,\u201d answered More. \u201cI will read it aloud, if your majesty wishes.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, no,\u201d said the king, whom the name of Wiltshire confused still more;\n\u201cgive them to me. I am perfectly familiar with the cipher.\u201d He did not\nintend that More should yet be apprised of the base intrigues he had\nordered to be practised at Rome to assist the father of his mistress in\nobtaining the divorce.\n\nHaving taken the letters, he found the emperor had treated his\nambassador with the utmost contempt, remarking to Wiltshire that he was\nan interested party, since he was father of the queen\u2019s rival, and he\nwould have to inform Henry VIII. that the emperor was not a merchant\nto sell the honor of his aunt for three hundred thousand crowns, even\nif he proposed to abandon her cause, but, on the contrary, he should\ndefend it to the last extremity; and after saying this, the emperor had\ndeliberately turned his back on the ambassador and forbidden him to be\nagain admitted to his presence.\n\nHenry grew red and white alternately.\n\n\u201cI am, then, the laughing-stock of Europe,\u201d he murmured through his\nfirmly-set teeth.\n\nNumerous other explanations followed, in which the Earl of Wiltshire\ngave an exact and circumstantial account of the offer he had made to the\nHoly Father of the treatise composed by Cromwell on the subject of the\ndivorce, saying that he had brought the author with him, who was prepared\nto sustain the opinions advanced against all opposition. He ended by\ninforming the king that, in spite of his utmost efforts, he had not been\nable to prevent the pope from according the emperor a brief forbidding\nHenry to celebrate another marriage before the queen\u2019s case had been\nentirely decided, and enjoining him to treat her in the meantime as his\nlegitimate wife.\n\nWiltshire sent with his letter an especial copy of that document,\nadding that he feared the information the Holy Father had received of\nthe violence exercised by the English universities toward those doctors\nwho had voted against the divorce, together with the money and promises\ndistributed among those of France, especially the University of Paris, to\nobtain favorable decisions, had not contributed toward influencing him.\n\nThe king read and re-read several times all these statements, and was\nentirely overwhelmed with indignation and disappointment.\n\n\u201cAnd why,\u201d he angrily exclaimed, dashing the earl\u2019s letter as far as\npossible from him--\u201cwhy have these flatterers surrounding me always\nassured me I would succeed in my undertaking? Why could they not\nforesee that it would be impossible? and why have I not found a sincere\nfriend who might have admonished me? More!\u201d he cried after a moment\u2019s\nsilence--\u201cMore, I am most miserable! What could be more unjust? I am\ndevoted to Lady Anne Boleyn as my future wife; and now they wish to make\nme renounce her. The emperor\u2019s intrigues prevail, and against all laws,\nhuman and divine, they condemn me to eternal celibacy!\u201d\n\n\u201cAh!\u201d replied Sir Thomas in a firm but sadly respectful manner, \u201cyes, it\nis indeed distressing to see your majesty thus voluntarily destroy your\nown peace, that of your kingdom, the happiness of your subjects, the\nregard for your own honor, so many benefits, in fact, and all for the\nfoolish love of a girl who possesses neither worth nor reputation.\u201d\n\n\u201cMore,\u201d exclaimed the king, \u201cdo not speak of her in this manner! She is\nyoung and thoughtless, but in her heart she is devoted to me.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is,\u201d replied More, \u201cshe is entirely devoted to the crown; she loves\ndearly the honors of royalty, and her pride is doubly flattered.\u201d\n\n\u201cMore,\u201d said the king, \u201cI forgive you for speaking thus to me; your\nsevere morals, your austere virtues, have not permitted you to experience\nthe torments of love, and that is why,\u201d he added gloomily, \u201cyou cannot\ncomprehend its irresistible impulses and true sentiments.\u201d\n\n\u201cNothing that is known to one man is unknown to another,\u201d replied More.\n\u201cLove, in itself, is a sublime sentiment that comes from God; but, alas!\nmen drag it in the dust, like all else they touch, and too often mistake\nthe appearance for the reality. To love anyone, O my king!\u201d continued\nMore, \u201cis it not to prefer them in all things above yourself, to consider\nyourself as nothing, and be willing to sacrifice without regret all that\nyou would wish to possess?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d said Henry VIII.; \u201cand that is the way I love Anne--more than my\nlife, more than the entire world!\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, no, sire!\u201d exclaimed More, \u201cdon\u2019t tell me that. No, don\u2019t say you\nlove her; say you love the pleasure she affords you, the attractions she\npossesses, which have charmed your senses--in a word, acknowledge that\nyou love yourself in her, and consider well that the day when nature\ndeprives her of her gifts and graces your memory will no longer represent\nher to you but as an insipid image, worthy only of a scornful oblivion!\nAh! if you loved her truly, you would act in a different manner. You\nwould never have considered aught but her happiness and her interests;\nyou would blush for her, and you would not be able to endure the thought\nof the shame with which you have not hesitated to cover her yourself in\nthe eyes of all your court!\u201d\n\n\u201cPerhaps,\u201d \u2026 replied Henry in a low and altered voice. \u201cBut she--she\nloves me; I cannot doubt that.\u201d\n\n\u201cShe loves the King of England!\u201d replied More excitedly, \u201cbut not Henry;\nshe loves the mighty prince who ignominiously bends his neck beneath the\nyoke which she pleases to impose on him. But poor and destitute, her\nglance would never have fallen upon you. Proud of her beauty, vain of\nher charms, she holds you like a conquered vassal whom she governs by a\ngesture or a word. She loves riches, honors and the pleasures with which\nyou surround her. She is dazzled by the _\u00e9clat_ of the high rank you\noccupy, and, to attain it, she fears not to purchase it at the price of\nyour soul and all that you possess. What matters to her the care of your\nhonor or the love of your subjects? Has she ever said to you: \u2018Henry, I\nlove you, but your duty separates you from me; be great, be virtuous\u2019?\nHas she said: \u2018Catherine, your wife, is my sovereign, and I recognize no\nother\u2019? Do you not hear the voice of your people saying to your children:\n\u2018You shall reign over us\u2019? But what am I saying? No, of course she has\nnot spoken thus; because she seeks to elevate herself, she thinks of her\nown aggrandizement--to see at her feet men whom she would never otherwise\nbe able to command.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat shall I do, then, what shall I do?\u201d cried Henry dolorously.\n\n\u201cMarry Anne Boleyn,\u201d replied Thomas More coolly; \u201cyou should do it, since\nyou have broken off her marriage with the Earl of Northumberland. If not,\nsend her away from court.\u201d\n\n\u201cI will do it! \u2026 No, I will not do it!\u201d he exclaimed, almost in the same\nbreath. \u201cI shall never be able to do it.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is to say, you never intend to do it,\u201d replied More. \u201cWe can always\naccomplish what we resolve.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, no,\u201d replied Henry; \u201cwe cannot always do what we wish. Everything\nconspires against me. Tired of willing, I can make nothing bend to my\nwill! Of what use is my royal power? To be happy is a thing impossible!\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, of all things in this life most impossible,\u201d answered More; \u201cand he\nwho aspires to attain it finds his miseries redoubled at the very moment\nhe thinks they will terminate. The possession of unlawful pleasures is\npoisoned by the remorse that follows in their train; and, frightened by\ntheir insecurity and short duration, we are prevented from enjoying them\nin quietness and peace.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen,\u201d cried Henry VIII., stamping his foot violently on the floor, \u201cwe\nhad better be dead.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d replied Thomas More, \u201cand to-morrow perhaps we may be!\u201d\n\n\u201cTo-morrow!\u201d repeated the king, as if struck with terror. \u201cNo, no, More,\nnot to-morrow. \u2026 I would not be willing now to appear in the presence of\nGod.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen,\u201d replied More, \u201chow can you expect to live peaceably in a\ncondition in which you are afraid to die? In a few hours, or at least in\na few years (that is as certain as the light of day which shines this\nmoment), your life and mine will have to end, leaving nothing more than\nregrets for the past and fears for the future.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou say truly, More,\u201d replied the king; \u201cbut life appears so long to\nus, the future so far removed! Is it necessary, then, that we be always\nthinking of it and sacrificing our pleasures?\u2026 Later--well, we will\nchange. Will we not have more time then to think of it?\u201d\n\n\u201cAh!\u201d replied More sadly, \u201cthere remains very little time to him who is\nalways putting off until to-morrow.\u201d\n\nAs he heard the last words, the king\u2019s face grew instantly crimson. He\nkept More with him, entertaining him with his trials and vexations, and\nthe night was far advanced before he permitted him to retire.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nDuring four entire days the king remained shut up in his apartment, and\nAnne Boleyn vainly attempted to gain admittance.\n\nMeanwhile, a rumor of her downfall spread rapidly through the palace. The\ncourtiers who were accustomed to attend her _lev\u00e9es_ in greater numbers\nand much more scrupulously than those of Queen Catherine, suddenly\ndiscontinued, and on the last occasion scarcely one of them made his\nappearance. They also took great care to preserve a frigid reserve and\ndoubtful politeness, which excited to the last degree her alarm and that\nof her ambitious family.\n\nThe latter were every moment in dread of the blow that seemed ready to\nfall upon them. In this state of gloomy disquiet every circumstance\nwas anxiously noted and served to excite their apprehensions. They\ncontinually discussed among themselves the arrival of the despatches\nfrom Rome, the nature of which they suspected from the very long time\nSir Thomas More had remained with the king. Then they refreshed their\nmemories with reflections on the inflexible severity of the lord\nchancellor, his old attachment for Queen Catherine--an attachment which\nthe elevation of More had never interrupted, as they had hoped would be\nthe case. Finally, the sincerity of his nature and the estimation in\nwhich he was held by the king made them, with great reason, apprehend\nthe influence of his counsel. Already they found themselves abandoned\nby almost all of those upon whose support they had relied. Suffolk,\nleagued with them heretofore, in order to secure the downfall of Cardinal\nWolsey, now regarded them in their disgrace as of little consequence to\none so closely related as himself to his majesty by the princess, his\nwife. The Duke of Norfolk, justly proud of his birth, his wealth, and his\nreputation, could not believe the power with which the influence of his\nniece had clothed him in the council by any means bound him to engage\nin or compromise himself in her cause. In the meantime they realized\nthat they would inevitably be compelled to succumb or make a last and\ndesperate effort, and they resolved with one accord to address themselves\nto Cromwell, whose shrewdness and cunning, joined to the motives of\nself-interest that could be brought to bear on him, seemed to offer them\na last resort.\n\nCromwell immediately understood all the benefit he would be likely to\nderive from the situation whether he succeeded or failed in the cause\nof Anne Boleyn, and determined, according to his own expression, to\n\u201cmake or unmake.\u201d He wrote to the king, demanding an audience. \u201cHe fully\nrealized,\u201d he wrote, with his characteristic adroitness, \u201chis entire\nincapacity for giving advice, but neither his devoted affection nor his\nsense of duty would permit him to remain silent when he knew the anxiety\nhis sovereign was suffering. It might be deemed presumptuous in him\nto say it, but he believed all the difficulties embarrassing the king\narose from the timidity of his advisers, who were misled by exterior\nappearances or deceived by the opinions of the vulgar.\u201d\n\nThe king immediately granted him an audience, although his usual custom\nwas to remain entirely secluded and alone while laboring under these\nviolent transports of passion. He hoped that Cromwell might be able to\npresent his opinions with such ability as would at least be sufficient to\ndivert him from the wretchedness he experienced.\n\nCromwell appeared before him with eyes cast down and affecting an air of\nsadness and constraint.\n\n\u201cSire,\u201d he said, as he approached the king, \u201cyesterday, even yesterday,\nI was happy--yes, happy in the thought of being permitted to present\nmyself before your majesty; because it seemed to me I might be able to\noffer some consolation for the anxieties you experience by reminding you\nthat nothing should induce you to pause in your efforts to advance the\ninterests of the kingdom and the state. But to-day, in appearing before\nyou, I know not what to say. This morning Lady Boleyn, being informed\nthat I was to have the happiness of seeing your majesty, sent for me and\ncharged me with the commission of asking your majesty\u2019s permission for\nher to withdraw from court.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat!\u201d exclaimed Henry, rising hastily to his feet, \u201cshe wishes to leave\nme?--she, my only happiness, my only joy? Never!\u201d\n\n\u201cI have found her,\u201d continued Cromwell, seeming not to remark the\npainful uneasiness he had aroused in the king\u2019s mind--\u201cI have found her\nplunged in a state of indescribable grief. She was almost deprived of\nconsciousness; her beautiful eyes were weighed down with tears, her long\nhair hanging neglected around her shoulders; and her pale, transparent\ncheek made her resemble a delicate white rose bowed on its slender stem\nbefore the violence of the tempest. \u2018Go, my dear Cromwell,\u2019 she said to\nme with a tremulous voice, but sweet as the soft expiring notes of an\n\u00e6olian lyre--\u2018go, say to my king, to my lord, I ask his permission to\nretire this day to my father\u2019s country-seat. I know that I am surrounded\nby enemies, but, while favored by his protection, I have not feared their\nmalice. But now I feel, and cannot doubt it, I shall become their victim,\nsince they have succeeded in prejudicing my sovereign against me to such\nan extent that he refuses to hear my defence.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat can she be afraid of here?\u201d cried the king. \u201cWho would dare offend\nher in my palace?\u201d\n\n\u201cWho will be able to defend her if your majesty abandons her?\u201d replied\nCromwell in a haughty tone, feigning to forget the humble demeanor he had\nassumed, and mentally applauding the success of his stratagem. \u201cHas she\nnot given up all for you? Every day she has wounded by her refusals the\ngreatest lords of the realm, who have earnestly sued for her heart and\nhand; but she has constantly refused to listen to them because of the\nlove she bears for you--always preferring the uncertain hope of one day\nbecoming yours to all the brilliant advantages of the wealthiest suitors\nshe has been urged to accept. But to-day, when her honor is attacked,\nwhen you banish her from your presence, she feels she will not have\nthe courage to endure near you such wretchedness, and she asks to be\npermitted to withdraw from court at once and for ever!\u201d\n\n\u201cFor ever?\u201d repeated the king. \u201cCromwell, has she said that? Have you\nheard her right? No, Cromwell, you are mistaken! I know her better than\nyou.\u201d And he turned on Cromwell a keen, scrutinizing glance.\n\nBut nothing could daunt this audacious man.\n\n\u201cShe said all I have told you,\u201d replied the hypocrite, with the coolest\nassurance, raising his head haughtily. \u201cWould I dare to repeat what I\nhave not heard? And your majesty can imagine that my devotion has alone\ninduced me to become the bearer of so painful a message; for I could not\nbelieve, your majesty had ceased to love her.\u201d\n\n\u201cNever!\u201d cried the king. \u201cNever have I for one moment ceased to adore\nher! But listen, dear Cromwell, and be convinced of how wretched I am!\nYesterday I received from Rome the most distressing intelligence. I\nhad written the pope a letter, signed by a great number of lords of my\ncourt and bishops of the kingdom, in which they expressed the fears they\nentertained of one day seeing the flames of civil war break out in this\ncountry if I should die without male heirs, as there would be grounds for\ncontesting the right of my daughter Mary to the throne on the score of\nher legitimacy. But nothing can move him.\u201d\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nHere the king rose, furiously indignant. \u201cHe has answered this petition,\u201d\nhe cried, walking with hurried strides up and down the floor; \u201cand\nhow?\u2026 By my faith, I can scarcely repeat it.\u2026 That he pardons the terms\nthey have used in their letter, attributing them to the affection they\nbear for me; that he is under still greater obligations to me than\nthey have mentioned; that it is not his fault if the affair of the\ndivorce remains undecided; that he has sent legates to England; that\nthe queen has refused to recognize them, and appealed from all they\nhave done; that he has tried vainly in every possible way to terminate\nthe affair amicably; and, furthermore, \u2018You will, perhaps, be ready to\nsay,\u2019 he writes, \u2018that, being under so many obligations to the king as\nI am, I should waive all other considerations and accord him absolutely\neverything he asks.\u2019 Although that would be sovereignly unjust, yet he\ncan conclude nothing else from their letter; that they reflect not on\nthe queen having represented to him, that all Christendom is scandalized\nbecause they would attempt to annul a marriage contracted so many years\nago, at the request of two great kings and under a dispensation from the\npope--a marriage confirmed by the birth of several children! And what\nelse? Let me see:\u2026 That if I rely on the opinion of several doctors and\nuniversities, he refers, on his part, to the law of God upon the sanctity\nand unity of marriage, and the highest authorities taken from the Hebrew\nand Latin writers; that the decisions of the universities which I bring\nforward are supported by no proofs; he cannot decide finally upon that,\nand, if he should precipitate his judgment, they would no longer be able\nto avert the evils with which it is said England is threatened; that he\ndesires as much as they that I may have male heirs, but he is not God\nto give them to me; he has no greater wish than to please me as far as\nlies in his power, without at the same time violating all the laws of\njustice and equity; and, finally, he conjures them to cease demanding\nof him things that are opposed to his conscience, in order that he may\nbe spared the pain of refusing! Mark that well, Cromwell--the pain of\nrefusing! Thus, you see, after having tried everything, spent everything,\nand used every possible means, what remains now for me to hope?\u201d\n\n\u201cAll that you wish,\u201d replied Cromwell; \u201ceverything without exception!\nWhy permit yourself to be governed by those who ought to be your slaves?\nAmong all the clergy who surround you, and whom you are able to reduce,\nif you choose, to mendicity, can you not find a priest who will marry\nyou? If I were King of England, I would very soon convince them that\nthe happiness of _their_ lives depended entirely upon _mine_! Threaten\nto withdraw from the authority of Rome, and you will very soon see them\nyielding, on their knees, to all your demands.\u201d\n\n\u201cCromwell,\u201d said Henry VIII., \u201cI admire your spirit and the boldness of\nthe measures you advocate. From this moment I open to you the door of my\ncouncil. Remember the kindness and the signal favor with which I have\nhonored you. However, your inexperienced zeal carries you too far; you\nforget that the day I would determine really to separate myself from the\nChurch of Rome, I would become schismatic, and the people would refuse to\nobey me. Moreover I am a Catholic, and I wish to die one.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat of that?\u201d replied Cromwell. \u201cAm I not also a Catholic? Because your\nmajesty frightens the pope, will he cease to exist? Declare to him that\nfrom this day you no longer recognize his authority; that you forbid the\nclergy paying their tithes to, or receiving from him their nominations.\nYou will see, then, if the next day your present marriage is not\nannulled and the one you wish to contract approved and ratified.\u201d\n\n\u201cDo you really believe it?\u201d said the king.\n\n\u201cI am sure of it,\u201d replied Cromwell.\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d said the king. \u201cIt is a thing utterly impossible; the bishops would\nrefuse to accede to any such requirements, and they would be right. They\nknow too well that it is essential for the church to have a head in order\nto maintain her unity, and without it nothing would follow but confusion\nand disorder.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell! who can prevent your majesty from becoming yourself that head?\u201d\nexclaimed Cromwell. \u201cIs England not actually a monster now with two\nheads, one of them wanting a thing, and the other not? Follow the example\ngiven you by those German princes who are freeing themselves from the\nyoke which has humbled them for so many years before the throne of a\npontiff who is a stranger alike to their affections and their interests!\nThen everything anomalous will rectify itself, and your subjects cease\nto believe that any other than yourself is entitled to their homage or\nsubmission.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are right, little Cromwell!\u201d cried Henry VIII., this seductive and\nperfidious discourse flattering at the same time his guilty passion and\nthe ambition that divided his soul. \u201cBut how would you proceed about\nexecuting this marvellous project, of which a thought had already crossed\nmy own mind?--for, as I have just told you, the clergy will refuse to\nobey me, and I shall then have no means of compelling them.\u201d\n\n\u201cYour consideration and kindness make you forget,\u201d replied Cromwell\nadroitly, afraid of wounding the king\u2019s pride, \u201cthe statutes of pr\u00e6munire\noffer you means both sure and easy. Is it not by those laws they have\ntried Wolsey before the Parliament? In condemning him they have condemned\nthemselves, and have made themselves amenable to the same penalties. You\nhave them all in your power. Threaten to punish them in their turn, if\nthey refuse to take the oath acknowledging you as head of the church; and\ndo it fearlessly if they dare attempt to resist you.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, little Cromwell,\u201d said Henry VIII., slapping him familiarly on\nthe shoulder, \u201cI observe with great satisfaction your coolness and the\nvariety of resources you have at command. You see everything at a glance\nand fear nothing. I have made all these objections only to hear how\nyou would meet them. Here, take these Roman documents, read them for\nyourself, and you will be better able to appreciate their contents; while\nI go and beg Anne to forget the wrongs I so cruelly reproach myself with\nhaving inflicted on her.\u201d\n\nSaying this, Henry VIII. went out, and Cromwell followed him with his\neyes as he walked through the long gallery.\n\nAn ironical smile hovered over his thin and bloodless lips as he watched\nhim. \u201cGo, go,\u201d he murmured to himself, \u201cthrow yourself at the feet of\nyour silly mistress, and ask her pardon for wishing her to be queen\nof England. They are grand, very grand, these kings, and yet they\nfind themselves very often held in the hollow of the hand of some low\nand crafty flatterer! \u2018Despicable creature!\u2019 they will say. Yes, I am\ndespicable in the eyes of many; and yet they prepare, by my advice,\nto overthrow the pillars of the church, in order to enrich me with its\nconsecrated spoils.\u201d\n\nHe laughed a diabolical laugh; then suddenly his face grew dark, and a\nfierce, malignant gleam shot from his eyes. \u201cGo,\u201d he continued--\u201cgo,\nprince as false as you are wicked. I, at least, am your equal in cunning\nand duplicity. You were not created for good, and the odious voice of\nMore will call you in vain to the path of virtue. My tongue--ay, mine--is\nto you far sweeter! It carries a poison that you will suck with eager\nlips. The son of the poor fuller will make you his partner in crime. He\nwill recline with you on your velvet throne, and perfidious cruelty will\nunite us heart and soul!\u2026 Go, seek that fool whom you adore and who will\nweary you very soon, and the vile, ambitious father who has begotten\nher. But, for me! \u2026 destroy your kingdom, profane the sanctuary, light\nthe funeral pyre, and compel all those to mount it who shall oppose the\nlaws Cromwell will dictate to you! Two ferocious beasts to-day share the\nthrone of England! You will surfeit me with gold, and I will make you\ndrunk with blood! You shall proclaim aloud what I shall have whispered\nin your ear! Ha! who of the two will be really king--Henry VIII. or\nCromwell? Why, Cromwell, without doubt; because he was born in the mire.\nHe has learned how to fly while the other was being fledged beneath the\nshadow of the crown! You have been reared within these walls of gold,\u201d\ncontinued Cromwell, surveying the magnificent adornings of the royal\nchamber; \u201cthese exquisite perfumes, escaping from fountains and flowers,\nhave always surround you. You have never known, like me, abandonment and\nwant, suffered from cold and hunger in a thatched cottage, and imbibed\nthe hatred, fostered in those abodes of wretchedness, against the rich;\nbut I have cherished that rage in my inmost soul! There it burns like a\nconsuming fire! I will have a palace. I will have power and be feared.\nServile courtiers shall fawn at my feet, adulation shall surround me. I\nwould grasp the entire world, and yet the cry of my soul would be, More,\nstill more!\u201d\n\nSaying this, Cromwell threw himself into the king\u2019s arm-chair, and,\npushing contemptuously from him the papers he had taken to read,\nabandoned himself entirely to the furious thirst of avarice and ambition\nthat devoured him.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe curfew had already sounded many hours, and profound silence reigned\nover the city. Not a sound was heard throughout the dark and winding\nstreets, save the boisterous shouts of some midnight revellers returning\nfrom a party of pleasure, or the dreary and monotonous song of a besotted\ninebriate as he staggered toward his home.\n\nIn the mansion of the French ambassador, however, no one had retired; and\nyoung De Vaux, impatiently waiting the return of M. du Bellay, paced with\nmeasured tread up and down the large hall where for many hours supper had\nbeen served.\n\nWeary with listening for the sound of footsteps, and hearing only\nthe mournful sighing of the night-wind, he at length seated himself\nbefore the fire in a great tapestried arm-chair whose back, rising\nhigh above his head, turned over in the form of a canopy, and gave him\nthe appearance of a saint reposing in the depths of his shrine. For\na long time he watched the sparks as they flew upward from the fire,\nthen, taking a book from his pocket, he opened it at random; but before\nreaching the bottom of the first page his eyes closed, the book fell from\nhis hands, and he sank into a profound sleep, from which he was aroused\nonly by the noise made by the ambassador\u2019s servants on the arrival of\ntheir master.\n\nM. de Vaux, being suddenly aroused from sleep, arose hastily to his feet\non seeing the ambassador enter.\n\n\u201cI have waited for you with the greatest impatience,\u201d he exclaimed with a\nsuppressed yawn.\n\n\u201cSay, rather, you have been sleeping soundly in your chair,\u201d replied M.\ndu Bellay, smiling. \u201cHere!\u201d he continued, turning toward the valets who\nfollowed him, \u201ctake my cloak and hat, and then leave us; you can remove\nthe table in the morning.\u201d\n\nObedient to their master\u2019s orders, they lighted several more lamps and\nretired, not without regret, however, at losing the opportunity of\ncatching, during the repast, a word that might have satisfied their\ncuriosity as to the cause of M. du Bellay having remained at the king\u2019s\npalace until so late an hour.\n\n\u201cWell, monsieur! what has been done at last?\u201d eagerly inquired young De\nVaux as soon as they had left.\n\n\u201cIn truth, I cannot yet comprehend it myself,\u201d replied Du Bellay. \u201cIn\nspite of all my efforts, it has been impossible to clearly unravel the\nknot of intrigue. This morning, as you know, nothing was talked of but\nthe downfall of Anne Boleyn. I was delighted; her overthrow would have\ndispensed us from all obligations. Now the king is a greater fool about\nher than ever, and, unless God himself strikes a blow to sever them, I\nbelieve nothing will cure him of his infatuation. As I entered, his first\nword was to demand why I had been so long in presenting myself. \u2018Sire,\u2019\nI replied, \u2018I have come with the utmost haste, I assure you, and am here\nready to execute any orders it may please you to give!\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201c\u2018Listen,\u2019 he then said to me. \u2018I have several things to tell you; but\nthe first of all is to warn you of my determination to arrest Cardinal\nWolsey. I am aware that you have manifested a great deal of interest in\nhim; \u2026 that you have even gone to see him when he was sick; \u2026 but that\nis of no consequence. I am far from believing that you are in any manner\nconcerned in the treason he has meditated against me. Therefore I have\nwished to advise you, that you may feel no apprehension on that account.\u2019\nI was struck with astonishment. \u2018What! sire,\u2019 I at last answered, \u2018the\ncardinal betray you? Why, he is virtually banished from England, where he\noccupies himself, they say, only in doing works of charity and mercy.\u2019\n\u2018I know what I say to you,\u2019 replied the king; \u2018his own servants accuse\nhim of conspiring against the state. But I shall myself examine into the\ndepths of this accusation. In the meantime he shall be removed to the\nTower, and I will send Sir Walsh with instructions to join the Earl of\nNorthumberland, in order to arrest Wolsey at Cawood Castle, where he is\nnow established.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cIs it possible?\u201d cried De Vaux, interrupting M. du Bellay. \u201cThat\nunfortunate cardinal! Who could have brought down this new storm on his\nhead? M. du Bellay, do you believe him capable of committing this crime,\neven if it were in his power?\u201d\n\n\u201cI do not believe a word of it,\u201d replied M. du Bellay, \u201cand I know\nnot who has excited this new storm of persecution. I have tried every\npossible means to ascertain from the king, but he constantly evaded\nmy questions by answering in a vague and obscure manner. I have been\ninformed in the palace that he had seen no person during the day, except\nCromwell, Lady Boleyn, and the Duke of Suffolk. Might this not be the\nresult of a plot concocted between them? This is only a conjecture, and\nwe may never get at the bottom of the affair. But let us pass on to\nmatters of more importance. The mistress is in high favor again. The king\nis determined to marry her, and has proclaimed in a threatening manner\nthat he will separate himself from the communion of Rome, and no more\npermit the supremacy of the Sovereign Pontiff to be recognized in his\nkingdom. He demands that the King of France shall do the same, and rely\non his authority in following his example.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat!\u201d cried De Vaux, astounded by this intelligence. \u201cAnd how have you\nanswered him, my lord?\u201d\n\n\u201cI said all that I felt authorized or could say,\u201d replied Du Bellay;\n\u201cbut what means shall we use to persuade a man so far transported and\nsubjugated by his passions that he seems to be a fool--no longer capable\nof reasoning, of comprehending either his duty, the laws, or the future?\nI have held up to him the disruption of his kingdom, the horrors that\ngive birth to a war of religion, the blood that it would cause him to\nspill.\u201d\n\n\u201c\u2018I shall spill as much of it as may be necessary,\u2019 he replied, \u2018to make\nthem yield. They will have their choice. Already the representatives of\nthe clergy have been ordered to assemble. Well! they shall decide among\nthemselves which is preferable--death, exile, or obedience to my will.\u2019\n\n\u201cWhilst saying this,\u201d continued M. du Bellay, with a gloomy expression,\u2026\n\u201che played with a bunch of roses, carelessly plucking off the leaves with\nhis fingers.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut what has been able to bring the king, in so short a time, to such an\nextremity?\u201d asked De Vaux, whose eyes, full of astonishment and anxiety,\ninterrogated those of M. du Bellay.\n\n\u201cHis base passions, without doubt; and, still more, the vile flattery\ncoming from some one of those he has taken into favor,\u201d replied Du\nBellay impatiently.\u2026 \u201cI tried in vain to discover who the arch-hypocrite\ncould be, but the king was never for a moment thrown off his guard; he\nconstantly repeated: \u2018_I_ have resolved on this; _I_ will do that!\u2019 \u2026 I\nshall find out, however, hereafter,\u201d continued Du Bellay; \u201cbut at present\nI am in ignorance.\u201d\n\n\u201cHas he said anything to you about the grand master?\u201d asked De Vaux.\n\n\u201cNo; but it seems he has been very much exercised on account of the\ncordial reception Chancellor Duprat gave Campeggio when he passed through\nFrance. \u2018That man has behaved very badly toward me,\u2019 he said sharply. \u2018I\nwas so lenient as to let him leave my kingdom unmolested, after having\nhesitated a long time whether I should not punish him severely for his\nconduct; and, behold, one of your ministers receives and treats him with\nthe utmost magnificence!\u2019\n\n\u201cI assured him no consequence should be attached to that circumstance,\nand pretended that Chancellor Duprat was so fond of good cheer and\ngrand display he had doubtless been too happy to have an opportunity of\nparading his wealth and luxury before the eyes of a stranger.\n\n\u201cHe then renewed the attack against Wolsey. \u2018If that be the case,\u2019 he\nexclaimed, \u2018this must be a malady common to all these chancellors; for my\nlord cardinal was also preparing to give a royal reception in the capital\nof his realm of York; but, unfortunately,\u2019 he added with an ironical\nsneer, \u2018I happen to be his master, and we have somewhat interfered with\nhis plans.\u2019 He then attacked the pope, then our king; and finally, while\nthe hour of midnight was striking, exhausted with anger and excitement,\nto my great relief, he permitted me to retire. Now,\u201d added M. du Bellay,\n\u201cwe will have to spend the rest of the night in writing, and to-morrow\nthe courier must be despatched.\u201d\n\nTO BE CONTINUED\n\n\nPRUSSIA AND THE CHURCH.\n\nII.\n\nIn February, 1848, Louis Philippe was driven from his throne by the\npeople of Paris, and the Republic was proclaimed. This revolution rapidly\nspread over the whole of Europe. The shock was most violent in Germany,\nwhere everything was in readiness for a general outburst. Most of the\ngovernments were compelled to yield to the popular will and to make\nimportant concessions. New cabinets were formed in W\u00fcrtemberg, Darmstadt,\nNassau, and Hesse. Lewis of Bavaria was forced to abdicate. Hanover and\nSaxony held out until Berlin and Vienna were invaded by the revolutionary\nparty, when they too succumbed. On the 13th of March the Vienna mob\noverthrew the Austrian ministry, and Metternich fled to England.\nItaly and Hungary revolted. Berlin was held all summer by an ignorant\nrevolutionary faction. In September fierce and bloody riots broke out in\nFrankfort.\n\nPopular meetings, secret societies, revolutionary clubs, violent\ndeclamations, and inflammatory appeals through the press kept all Germany\nin a state of agitation. Occasional outbreaks among the peasantry,\nfollowed by pillage and incendiarism, increased the general confusion.\n\nIt was during this time of wild excitement that the elections for the\nImperial Parliament were held. To this assembly many avowed atheists,\npantheists, communists, and Jacobins were chosen--men who fully agreed\nwith Hecker when he declared that \u201cthere were six plagues in Germany--the\nprinces, the nobles, the bureaucrats, the capitalists, the parsons,\nand the soldiers.\u201d The parties in the Parliament took their names from\ntheir positions in the assembly hall, and were called the extreme left,\nthe left, the left centre, the right centre, the right, and the extreme\nright. The first three were composed of red republicans, Jacobins, and\nliberals. To the right centre belonged the constitutional liberals; and\non the right and right centre sat the Catholic members, the predecessors\nof the party of the _Centrum_ of the present day. The extreme right was\noccupied by functionaries and bureaucrats, chiefly from Prussia. The\nParliament of Frankfort, in the _Grundrechte_, or _Fundamental Rights_,\nwhich it proclaimed, decreed universal, suffrage, abolished all the\npolitical rights of the aristocracy, the hereditary chambers in all the\nstates of Germany, set aside the existing family entails, and, though\nnominally it retained the imperial power, degraded the emperor to a\nrepublican president by giving him merely a suspensive veto.\n\nWhile this Parliament was sitting the Catholic bishops of Germany\nassembled in council at W\u00fcrzburg, and, at the conclusion of their\ndeliberations, drew up a Memorial as firm in tone as it was clear and\nprecise in expression, in which they set forth the claims of the church.\n\n\u201cTo bring about,\u201d they said, \u201ca separation from the state--that is\nto say, from public order, which necessarily reposes on a moral and\nreligious foundation--is not according to the will of the church. If the\nstate will perforce separate from the church, so will the church, without\napproving, tolerate what it cannot avoid; and when not compelled by the\nduty of self-preservation, she will not break the bonds of union made\nfast by mutual understanding.\n\n\u201cThe church, entrusted with the solemn and holy mission, \u2018As my Father\nhath sent me, so send I ye,\u2019 requires for the accomplishment of this\nmission, whatever the form of government of the state may be, the fullest\nfreedom and independence. Her holy popes, prelates, and confessors have\nin all ages willingly and courageously given up their life and blood for\nthe preservation of this inalienable freedom.\u201d\n\nIn virtue of these principles the bishops, in this Memorial, claimed the\nright of directing, without any interference on the part of the state,\ntheological seminaries, and of founding schools, colleges, and all kinds\nof educational establishments; of exerting canonical control, unfettered\nby state meddling, over the conduct of their clergy, as well as that of\nintroducing into their dioceses religious orders, congregations, and\npious confraternities, for which they demanded the same rights which the\nnew political constitution had granted to secular associations. Finally,\nthey asserted their right to free and untrammelled communication with the\nHoly See; and, as included in this, that of receiving and publishing all\npapal bulls, briefs, and other documents without the Royal Placet, which\nthey declared to be repugnant to the honor and dignity of the ministers\nof religion.\n\nThe Frankfort Parliament decreed the total separation of church and\nstate, and was therefore compelled to guarantee the freedom of all\nreligions. This separation was sanctioned by the Catholic members of the\nAssembly, who looked upon it as less dangerous to the cause of religion\nand morality than ecclesiastical Josephism. In the present conflict\nbetween the church and the German Empire the Catholic party has again\ndemanded, and in vain, the separation of church and state. In rejecting\ntheir urgent request, Dr. Falk declared that the leading minds in England\nand America are already beginning to regret that their governments have\nso little control over the ecclesiastical organizations within their\nlimits.\n\nWhilst the representatives of the German people at Frankfort were\nabolishing the privileges of the nobles, decreeing the separation of\nchurch and state, and forgetting the standing armies, the governments\nwere quietly gathering their forces. Marshal Radetzky put down the\nItalian rebellion, Prince Windischgr\u00e4tz quelled the democracy of Vienna,\nand General Wrangel took possession of Berlin, without a battle. Russia,\nat the request of Austria, sent an army into Hungary to destroy the\nrebellion in that country, and the disturbances in Bavaria and in the\nPalatinate were suppressed by Prussian troops under the present Emperor\nof Germany. The representatives of the larger states withdrew from the\nFrankfort Parliament, which dwindled, and finally, amidst universal\ncontempt and neglect, came to an end at Stuttgart, June 18, 1849.\n\nBut the liberties of the church were not lost. In Prussia, as we have\nseen, a better state of things had begun with the imprisonment of the\nheroic Archbishop of Cologne in 1837. In the face of the menacing\nattitude of the German democrats and republicans, Frederick William IV.\nconfirmed the liberties of the Catholic Church by the letters-patent of\n1847.\n\nThe constitutions of December 5, 1848, and January 31, 1850, were drawn\nup in the lurid light of the revolution, which had beaten fiercest upon\nthe house of Hohenzollern. The king had capitulated to the insurgents,\nwithdrawn his soldiers from the capital, and abandoned Berlin, and with\nit the whole state, for nine months to the tender mercies of the mob. He\nwas forced to witness the most revolting spectacles. The dead bodies of\nthe rioters were borne in procession under the windows of his palace,\nwhile the rabble shouted to him: \u201cFritz, off with your hat.\u201d\n\nIt is not surprising, in view of this experience, that we should\nfind in the constitution of 1850 (articles 15 to 18 inclusive) a\nvery satisfactory recognition of the rights of the church. Why these\nparagraphs granting the church freedom to regulate and administer its\nown affairs; to keep possession of its own revenues, endowments, and\nestablishments, whether devoted to worship, education, or beneficence;\nand freely to communicate with the Pope, were inserted in the\nconstitution, we know from Prince Bismarck himself. In his speech in\nthe Prussian Upper House, March 10, 1873, he affirmed that \u201cthey were\nintroduced at a time when the state needed, or thought it needed, help,\nand believed that it would find this help by leaning on the Catholic\nChurch. It was probably led to this belief by the fact that in the\nNational Assembly of 1848 all the electoral districts with a preponderant\nCatholic population returned--I will not say royalist representatives,\nbut certainly men who were the friends of order, which was not the case\nin the Protestant districts.\u201d\n\nThe provisions of the constitution of 1850 with regard to the church were\nhonorably and faithfully carried out down to the beginning of the present\nconflict. Never since the Reformation had the church in Prussia been\nso free, never had she made such rapid progress, whether in completing\nher internal organization or in extending her influence. The Prussian\nliberals and atheists, who had fully persuaded themselves that without\nthe wealth and aid of the state the Catholic religion would have no\nforce, were amazed. The influence of the priests over the people grew\nin proportion as they were educated more thoroughly in the spirit and\ndiscipline of the church under the immediate supervision of the bishops,\nunfettered by state interference; the number of convents, both of men\nand women, rapidly increased; associations of all kinds, scientific,\nbenevolent, and religious, spread over the land; religious journals and\nreviews were founded in which Catholic interests were ably advocated and\ndefended; and all the forces of the church were unified and guided by the\nharmonious action of a most enlightened and zealous episcopate.\n\nThis was the more astonishing as the Evangelical Church, whose liberties\nhad also been guaranteed by the constitution of 1850, had shown itself\nunable to profit by the greater freedom of action which it had received.\nIn fact, the Evangelical Church was lifeless, and it needed only this\ntest to prove its want of vitality. It was a state creation, and in an\nage when the world had ceased to recognize the divine right of kings to\ncreate religions. It was only in 1817 that the Lutheran and Calvinistic\nchurches of Prussia, together with the very name of Protestant, were\nabolished by royal edict, and a new Prussian establishment, under the\ntitle of \u201cevangelical,\u201d was imposed by the civil power upon a Protestant\npopulation of nearly eight millions, whose religious and moral sense\nwas so dead that they seemed to regard with stolid indifference this\ninterference of government with all that freemen deem most sacred in\nlife. Acts of parliament may make \u201cestablishments,\u201d but they cannot\ninspire religious faith and life; and it was therefore not surprising\nthat, when the mummy of evangelicalism was put out into the open air of\nfreedom by the constitution of 1850, it should have been revealed to all\nthat the thing was dead.\n\nNevertheless, the Prussian government continued to act toward the\nCatholic Church with great justice, and even friendliness, and the war\nagainst Catholic Austria in 1866 wrought no change in its ecclesiastical\npolicy. Even the opening of the Vatican Council caused no alarm in\nPrussia; on the contrary, King William, as it was generally believed at\nleast, was most civil to the Holy Father; and Prince Bismarck himself at\nthat time saw no reason for apprehension, though he had been the head\nof the ministry already eight years. To what, then, are we to attribute\nPrussia\u2019s sudden change of attitude toward the church? Who began the\npresent conflict, and what was its provocation?\n\nThis is a question which has been much discussed in the Prussian House of\nDeputies and elsewhere. Prince Bismarck has openly asserted in the House\nof Deputies within the past year that the provocation was the definition\nof papal infallibility by the Vatican Council on the 18th of June, 1870,\nand subsequently the hostile attitude of the party of the _Centrum_\ntoward the German Empire.\n\nHerr von Kirchmann, a member of the German Parliament and of the Prussian\nHouse of Deputies, a national liberal, and not a Catholic, but in the\nmain a sympathizer with the spirit of the Falk legislation, has recently\ndiscussed this whole subject with great ability, and--as far as it is\npossible for one who believes in the Hegelian doctrine that \u201cthe state is\nthe present god\u201d--also with fairness.[255]\n\nTo Prince Bismarck\u2019s first assertion, that the definition of papal\ninfallibility was the unpardonable offence, which has been so strongly\nemphasized by Mr. Gladstone and re-echoed with parrot-like fidelity by\nthe anti-Catholic press of Europe and America, Herr von Kirchmann makes\nthe following reply:\n\n    \u201cIt is difficult to understand how so experienced a statesman\n    as Prince Bismarck can ascribe to this decree of the\n    council such great importance for the states of Europe, and\n    particularly for Prussia and Germany. To a theorizer sitting\n    behind his books such a decree, it may be allowed, might\n    appear to be something portentous, since, taken from a purely\n    theoretical stand-point and according to the letter, the\n    infallibility of the Pope in all questions of religion and\n    morals gives him unlimited control over all human action;\n    and many a Catholic, when called upon to receive this\n    infallibility as part of his faith, may have found that he\n    was unable to follow so far; but a statesman ought to know\n    how to distinguish, especially where there is question of\n    the Catholic Church, between the literal import of dogmas\n    and their use in practical life. In the Catholic Church as a\n    whole, this infallibility, as is well known, has existed from\n    the earliest times; its organ hitherto has been the Ecumenical\n    Council in union with the Pope; but already before 1870 it was\n    disputed whether the Pope might not alone act as the organ of\n    infallibility. In 1870 the question was decided in favor of\n    the Pope; but we must consider that the ecumenical councils\n    have, as history shows, nearly always framed their decrees\n    in accordance with the views of the court of Rome; and this,\n    of itself, proves that the change made in 1870 is rather one\n    of form than of essence. Especially false is it to maintain\n    that by this decree a complete revolution in the constitution\n    of the church has been made. To the theorizer we might grant\n    the abstract possibility that something of this kind might\n    some day or other happen; but such _possibilities_ of the\n    abuse of a right are found in all the relations of public\n    life, in the state and its representatives as well as in the\n    church. Even in constitutions the most carefully drawn up such\n    possibilities are found in all directions. What a statesman\n    has to consider is not mere possibilities, but the question\n    whether the possessor of such right is not compelled, from the\n    very nature of things, to make of it only the most moderate and\n    prudent use. So long, therefore, as the Pope does not alter\n    the constitution of the church, that constitution remains,\n    precisely in its ancient form, such as it has been recognized\n    and tolerated by the state for centuries: and wherever the\n    relations between particular states and the court of Rome\n    have been arranged by concordats, these too remain unchanged,\n    unless the states themselves find it convenient to depart from\n    them. We see, in fact, that this infallibility of the Pope\n    has in no country of Europe or America altered one jot or\n    tittle in the constitution of the Catholic Church; and where\n    in particular countries such changes have taken place, they\n    have not been made by the ecclesiastical government, but by\n    the state and in its interest. In Germany even, and in Prussia\n    itself, the Pope has, since 1870, made no change in the church\n    constitution, as determined by the Canon Law; and when, in\n    some of his encyclicals and other utterances, he has taken up\n    a hostile attitude towards the German Empire and the Prussian\n    state, he has done this only in defence against the aggressive\n    legislation of the civil government. He has never hesitated to\n    express his disapprobation of the new church laws, but he has\n    in no instance touched the constitution of the Catholic Church\n    or the rights of the bishops.\u201d[256]\n\nIt seems almost needless to remark that there is no necessary connection\nbetween the doctrine of Papal infallibility and that of the essential\norganization of the church; that the jurisdiction of the Pope was as\ngreat, and universally recognized as such by Catholics, before the\nVatican Council as since; and consequently that it is not even possible\nthat the definition of 1870 should make any change in his authoritative\nrelation to, or power over, the church. His jurisdiction is wider than\nhis infallibility, and independent of it; and the duty of obedience to\nhis commands existed before the dogma was defined precisely as it exists\nnow; and therefore it is clearly manifest that the Vatican decree cannot\ngive even a plausible pretext for such legislation as the Falk Laws.\n\n    \u201cNot less singular,\u201d continues Herr von Kirchmann, \u201cdoes it\n    sound to hear the party of the _Centrum_ in the Reichstag\n    and Prussian Landtag denounced as the occasion of the new\n    regulations between church and state. The members of this party\n    notoriously represent the views and wishes of the majority\n    of their constituents, and just as faithfully as the members\n    of the parties who side with the government. The reproach\n    that they receive their instructions from Rome is not borne\n    out by the facts; and if there were an understanding with\n    Rome of the kind which their adversaries affirm, this could\n    only be the result of a similar understanding on the part of\n    their constituents. Nothing could more strikingly prove that\n    the Catholic party faithfully represent the great majority in\n    their electoral districts than the repeated re-election of the\n    same representatives or of men of similar views. To this we\n    must add that the _Centrum_, though strong in numbers, is yet\n    in a decided minority both in the Reichstag and the Prussian\n    Landtag, and has always been defeated in its opposition to the\n    recent ecclesiastical legislation. If in other matters, by\n    uniting with opposition parties, it has caused the government\n    inconvenience, we have no right to ascribe this to feelings\n    of hostility; for on such occasions its orators have given\n    substantial political reasons for their opposition, and\n    instances enough might be enumerated in which, precisely\n    through the aid of the _Centrum_, many illiberal and dangerous\n    projects of law have fallen through; and for this the party\n    deserves the thanks of the country.\n\n    \u201cThe present action of the state against the Catholic Church\n    would be unjustifiable, if better grounds could not be adduced\n    in its favor. For the attentive observer, however, valid\n    reasons are not wanting. They are to be found, to put the\n    whole matter in a single word, in the great power to which\n    the Catholic Church in Prussia had attained by the aid of the\n    constitution and the favor of the government--a power which, if\n    its growth had been longer tolerated, would have become, not\n    indeed dangerous to the existence of the state, but a hindrance\n    to the right fulfilment of the ends of its existence.\u201d[257]\n\nNeither the Vatican Council, then, nor the Catholics of Prussia have\ndone anything to provoke the present persecution. To find fault with the\nGerman bishops for accepting the dogma of infallibility, after having\nstrongly opposed its definition by the council, would be as unreasonable\nas to blame a member of Congress for admitting the binding force of a\nlaw the passage of which he had done everything in his power to prevent.\nTheir duty, beyond all question, was to act as they have acted. This\nwas not the offence: the unpardonable crime was that the church, as\nsoon as she was unloosed from the fetters of bureaucracy, had grown too\npowerful. We doubt whether any more forcible argument in proof of the\nindestructible vitality of the church can be found than that which may be\ndeduced from the universal consent of her enemies, of whatever shade of\nbelief or unbelief, that the only way in which she can be successfully\nopposed is to array against her the strongest of human powers--that of\nthe state. A complete revolution of thought upon this subject has taken\nplace within the last half-century. Up to that time it was confidently\nheld by Protestants as well as infidels that, to undermine and finally\ndestroy the church, it would be simply necessary to withdraw from her the\nsupport of the state; that to her freedom would necessarily prove fatal.\nThe experiment, as it was thought, had not been satisfactorily tried.\nIreland, indeed, had held her faith for three hundred years, in spite of\nall that fiendish cruelty could invent to destroy it; but persecution\nhas always been the life of the faith. In the United States the church\nhad been free since the war of independence, but of us little was known;\nand, besides, down to, say, 1830 even the most thoughtful and far-sighted\namong us had serious doubts as to the future of the church in this\ncountry.\n\nBut with the emancipation of the Catholics in Great Britain, the new\nconstitution of the kingdom of Belgium, and the completer organization\nof the church in the United States, the test as to the action of freedom\nupon the progress of Catholic faith began to be applied over a wide and\nvaried field and under not unfavorable circumstances. What the result\nhas been we may learn from our enemies. Mr. Gladstone expostulates for\nGreat Britain, and reaches a hand of sympathy to M. Emile de Laveleye\nin Belgium. Dr. Falk, Dr. Friedberg, and even the moderate Herr von\nKirchmann, defend the tyrannical _May Laws_ as necessary to stop\nthe growth of the church in Germany; and at home the most silent of\nPresidents and the most garrulous of bishops, forgetting that the cause\nof temperance has prior claims upon their attention, have raised the\ncry of alarm to warn their fellow-citizens of the dangerous progress of\npopery in this great and free country. Time was when \u201cthe Free Church in\nthe Free State\u201d was thought to be the proper word of command; but now\nit is \u201cthe Fettered Church in the Enslaved State,\u201d since no state that\nmeddles with the consciences of its subjects can be free.\n\nIf there is anything for which we feel more especially thankful, it is\nthat henceforth the cause of the church and the cause of freedom are\ninseparably united. We have heard to satiety that the Catholic Church is\nthe greatest conservative force in the world, the most powerful element\nof order in society, the noblest school of respect in which mankind have\never been taught. Praised be God that now, as in the early days, he is\nmaking it impossible that Catholics should not be on the side of liberty,\nas the church has always been; so that all men may see that, if we love\norder the more, we love not liberty the less!\n\n\u201cI will sing to my God as long at I shall be,\u201d wrote an inspired king;\n\u201cput not your trust in princes.\u201d No, nor in governments, nor in states,\nbut in God who is the Lord, and in the poor whom Jesus loved. From God\nout of the people came the church; through God back to the people is she\ngoing. We know there are still many Catholics who trust in kings and\nbelieve in salvation through them; but God will make them wiser. The\nSpirit that sits at the roaring Loom of Time will weave for them other\ngarments. The irresistible charm of the church, humanly speaking, lies in\nthe fact that she comes closer to the hearts of the people than any other\npower that has ever been brought to bear upon mankind.\n\nHaving shown that the oppressive ecclesiastical legislation of Germany\nwas not provoked by the church, and that its only excuse is the\nincreasing power of the church, Herr von Kirchmann reduces all farther\ndiscussion of this subject to the two following heads: 1st. How far ought\nthe state to go in setting bounds to this power of the Catholic Church?\nand 2d. What means ought it to employ?\n\nIn view of the dangers with which every open breach of the peace between\nchurch and state is fraught for the people, it would have been advisable,\nhe thinks, from political motives, to have tried to settle the difficulty\nby a mutual understanding between the two powers; nor would it, in his\nopinion, be derogatory to the sovereignty of the state to treat the\nchurch as an equal, since she embraces in her fold all the Catholics of\nthe world, who have their directing head in the Pope, whose sovereign\necclesiastical power cannot, therefore, as a matter of fact, be called in\nquestion.\n\nThat Prussia did not make any effort to see what could be effected by\nthis policy of conciliation may, in the opinion of Herr von Kirchmann,\nfind some justification in the fact that the government did not expect,\nand could not in 1871 foresee, the determined opposition of the Catholics\nto the May Laws of 1873. At any rate, as he thinks, the high and\nmajestatic right of the state is supreme, and it alone must determine, in\nthe ultimate instance, how far and how long it will acknowledge any claim\nof the church. Thus even this statesman, who is of the more moderate\nschool of Prussian politicians, holds that the church has no rights which\nthe state is bound to respect; that political interests are paramount,\nand conscience, in the modern as in the ancient pagan state, has no claim\nupon the recognition of the government. English and American Protestants,\nwhere their own interests are concerned, would be as little inclined to\naccept this doctrine as Catholics; in fact, this country was born of a\nprotest against the assumption of state supremacy over conscience; and\nyet so blinding and misleading is prejudice that the Falk Laws receive\ntheir heart-felt sympathy.\n\nThough Herr von Kirchmann accepts without reservation the principles\nwhich underlie the recent Prussian anti-Catholic legislation, and\nthinks the May Laws have been drawn up with great wisdom and consummate\nknowledge of the precise points at which the state should oppose the\ngrowing power of the church, he yet freely admits that there are grave\ndoubts whether the present policy of Prussia on this subject can be\nsuccessfully carried out. That Prince Bismarck and Dr. Falk had but a\nvery imperfect knowledge of the difficulties which lay in their path,\nthe numerous supplementary bills which have been repeatedly introduced\nin order to give effect to the May Laws plainly show. Where there is\nquestion of principle and of conscience Prince Bismarck is not at home.\nHe believes in force; like the first Napoleon, holds that Providence is\nalways on the side of the biggest cannons; sneers about going to Canossa,\nas Napoleon mockingly asked the pope whether his excommunication would\nmake the arms fall from the hands of his veterans. He knows the workings\nof courts, and is a master in the devious ways of diplomacy. He can\nestimate with great precision the resources of a country; he has a keen\neye for the weak points of an adversary. His tactics, like Napoleon\u2019s,\nare to bring to bear upon each given point of attack a force greater\nthan the enemy\u2019s. He has, in his public life, never known what it is to\nrespect right or principle. With the army at his back he has trampled\nupon the Prussian constitution with the same daring recklessness with\nwhich he now violates the most sacred rights of conscience. Nothing, in\nhis eyes, is holy but success, and he has been consecrated by it, so\nthat the Bismarck-cultus has spread far beyond the fatherland to England\nand the United States. Carlyle has at last found a living hero, the very\nimpersonation of the brute force which to him is ideal and admirable; and\nat eighty he offers incense and homage to the idol. We freely give Prince\nBismarck credit for his remarkable gifts--indomitable will, reckless\ncourage, practical knowledge of men, considered as intelligent automata\nwhose movements are directed by a kind of bureaucratic and military\nmechanism; and this is the kind of men with whom, for the most part,\nhe has had to deal. For your thorough Prussian, though the wildest of\nspeculators and the boldest of theorizers, is the tamest of animals. No\npoor Russian soldier ever crouched more submissively beneath the knout\nthan do the Prussian pantheists and culturists beneath the lash of a\nmaster. Like Voltaire, they probably prefer the rule of one fine Lion to\nthat of a hundred rats of their own sort. Prince Bismarck knew his men,\nand we give him credit for his sagacity. Not every eye could have pierced\nthe mist, and froth, and sound, and fury of German professordom, and\nbeheld the craven heart that was beneath.\n\nOnly men who believe in God and the soul are dangerous rebels. Why should\nhe who has no faith make a martyr of himself? Why, since there is nothing\nbut law, blind and merciless force, throw yourself beneath the wheels\nof the state Juggernaut to be crushed? The religion of culture is the\nreligion of indulgence, and no godlike rebel against tyranny and brute\nforce ever sprang from such worship. So long as Prince Bismarck had\nto deal with men who were nourished on \u201cphilosophy\u2019s sweet milk,\u201d and\nwho worshipped at the altar of culture, who had science but not faith,\nopinions but not convictions, amongst whom, consequently, organic union\nwas impossible, his policy of making Germany \u201cby blood and iron\u201d was\nsuccessful enough. But, like all great conquerors, he longed for more\nkingdoms to subdue, and finding right around him a large and powerful\nbody of German citizens who did not accept the \u201cnew faith\u201d that the\nstate--in other words, Prince Bismarck--is \u201cthe present god,\u201d just as\na kind of diversion between victories, he turned to give a lesson to\nthe _Pfaffen_ and clerical _Dummk\u00f6pfe_, who burnt no incense in honor\nof his divinity. In taking this step it is almost needless to say that\nPrince Bismarck sought to pass over a chasm which science itself does\nnot profess to have bridged--that, namely, which lies between the\nworlds of matter and of spirit. Of the new conflict upon which he was\nentering he could have only vague and inaccurate notions. Nothing is so\nmisleading as contempt--a feeling in which the wise never indulge, but\nwhich easily becomes habitual with men spoiled by success. To the man who\nhad organized the armies and guided the policy which had triumphed at\nSadowa and Sedan what opposition could be made by a few poor priests and\nbeggar-monks? Would the arms fall from the hands of the proudest soldiers\nof Europe because the _Pfaffen_ were displeased? Or why should not the\nmodel culture-state of the world make war upon ignorance and superstition?\n\nOf the real nature and strength of the forces which would be marshalled\nin this great battle of souls a man of blood and iron could form no just\nestimate. \u201cTo those who believe,\u201d said Christ, \u201call things are possible\u201d;\nbut what meaning have these words for Prince Bismarck? The soul, firm in\nits faith, appealing from tyrant kings and states to God, is invincible.\nLifting itself to the Infinite, it draws thence a divine power. Like\nliberty, it is brightest in dungeons, in fetters freest, and conquers\nwith its martyrdom. Needle-guns cannot reach it, and above the deadly\nroar of cannon it rises godlike and supreme.\n\n    \u201cFor though the giant Ages heave the hill\n    And break the shore, and evermore\n    Make and break and work their will;\n    Though world on world in myriad myriads roll\n    Round us, each with different powers\n    And other farms of life than ours,\n    What know we greater than the soul?\n    On God and godlike men we build our trust.\u201d\n\nMen who have unwrapt themselves of the garb and vesture of thought and\nsentiment with which the world had dressed them out, who have been born\nagain into the higher life, who have been clothed in the charity and\nmeekness of Christ, who for his dear sake have put all things beneath\ntheir feet, who love not the world, who venerate more the rags of the\nbeggar than the purple of C\u00e6sar, who fear as they love God alone, for\nwhom life is no blessing and death infinite gain, form the invincible\narmy of Christ foredoomed to conquer. \u201cThis is the victory which\novercometh the world--our Faith.\u201d\n\nWho has ever forgotten those lines of Tacitus, inserted as an altogether\ntrifling circumstance in the reign of Nero?--\u201cSo for the quieting of\nthis rumor [of his having set fire to Rome] Nero judicially charged with\nthe crime, and punished with most studied severities, that class, hated\nfor their general wickedness, whom the vulgar call _Christians_. The\noriginator of that name was one _Christ_, who in the reign of Tiberius\nsuffered death by sentence of the procurator, Pontius Pilate. The baneful\nsuperstition, thereby repressed for the time, again broke out, not only\nover Judea, the native soil of the mischief, but in the City also,\nwhere from every side all atrocious and abominable things collect and\nflourish.\u201d[258]\n\n\u201cTacitus,\u201d says Carlyle, referring to this passage, \u201cwas the wisest, most\npenetrating man of his generation; and to such depth, and no deeper, has\nhe seen into this transaction, the most important that has occurred or\ncan occur in the annals of mankind.\u201d\n\nWe doubt whether Prince Bismarck to-day has any truer knowledge of the\nreal worth and power of the living Catholic faith on which he is making\nwar than had Tacitus eighteen hundred years ago, when writing of the rude\nGerman barbarians who were hovering on the confines of the Roman Empire,\nand who were to have a history in the world only through the action\nof that \u201cbaneful superstition\u201d which he considered as one of the most\nabominable products of the frightful corruptions of his age.\n\nThat the Prussian government was altogether unprepared for the determined\nthough passive opposition to the May Laws which the Catholics have made,\nHerr von Kirchmann freely confesses. It was not expected that there\nwould be such perfect union between the clergy and the people; on the\ncontrary, it was generally supposed that, with the aid of the Draconian\npenalties threatened for the violation of the Falk Laws, the resistance\nof the priests themselves would be easily overcome. These men love their\nown comfort too much, said the culturists, to be willing to go to prison\nand live on beans and water for the sake of technicalities; and so they\nchuckled over their pipes and lager-beer at the thought of their easy\nvictory over the _Pfaffen_. They were mistaken, and Herr von Kirchmann\nadmits that the courage of the bishops and priests has not been broken\nbut strengthened by their sufferings for the faith.\n\n    \u201cSo long as we were permitted to hope,\u201d he says, \u201cthat we\n    should have only the priests to deal with, there was less\n    reason for doubt as to the policy of executing the laws in\n    all their rigor; but the situation was wholly altered when it\n    became manifest that the congregations held the same views as\n    the bishops and priests.\u2026 It is easy to see that all violent,\n    even though legal, proceedings of the government against these\n    convictions of the Catholic people can only weaken those\n    proper, and in the last instance alone effective, measures\n    through which the May Laws can successfully put bounds to\n    the growing power of the church. These measures--viz., a\n    better education of the people and a higher culture of the\n    priests--can, from the nature of things, exert their influence\n    only by degrees. Not till the next generation can we hope to\n    gather the fruit of this seed; and not then, indeed, if the\n    reckless execution of the May Laws calls forth an opposition\n    in the Catholic populations which will shake confidence in\n    the just intentions of the government, and beget in the\n    congregations feelings of hatred for everything connected\n    with this legislation. Such feelings will unavoidably be\n    communicated to the children, and the teacher will in\n    consequence be deprived of that authority without which his\n    instructions must lack the persuasive force that is inherent\n    in truth. In such a state of warfare even the higher culture\n    of the clergy must be useless. Those who stand on the side of\n    the government will, precisely on that account, fail to win the\n    confidence of their people; and the stronger the aged pastors\n    emphasize the Canon Law of the church, the more energetically\n    they extend the realms of faith even to the hierarchical\n    constitution of the church, the more readily and faithfully\n    will their congregations follow them.\n\n    \u201cIt cannot be dissembled that the government, through the\n    rigorous execution of the May Laws, is raging against its own\n    flesh and blood, and is thereby robbing itself of the only\n    means by which it can have any hope of finally coming forth\n    victorious from the present conflict. It may be objected that\n    the resistance which is now so widespread cannot be much longer\n    maintained, and that all that is needed to crush it and bring\n    about peace with the church is to increase the pressure of the\n    law. Assertions of this kind are made with great confidence\n    by the liberals of both Houses of the Landtag whenever the\n    government presents a new bill; and the liberal newspapers,\n    which never grow tired of this theme, declare that the result\n    is certain and even near at hand.\n\n    \u201cNow, even though we should attach no importance to the\n    contrary assertions of the Catholic party, it is yet evident,\n    from the declarations of the government itself, that it is not\n    all confident of reaching this result with the aid of the means\n    which it has hitherto employed or of those in preparation,\n    but that it is making ready for a prolonged resistance of the\n    clergy, who are upheld and supported by the great generosity\n    of the Catholic people. The ovations which the priests receive\n    from their congregations when they come forth from prison are\n    not falling off, but are increasing; and this is equally true\n    of the pecuniary aid given to them. It is possible that much\n    of this may have been gotten up by the priests themselves\n    as demonstration; but the displeasure of the still powerful\n    government officials which the participants incur, and the\n    greatness of the money-offerings, are evidence of earnest\n    convictions.\n\n    \u201cNothing, however, so strongly witnesses to the existence of a\n    perfect understanding between the congregations and the priests\n    as the fact that, though the law of May, 1874, gave to those\n    congregations whose pastors had been removed or had not been\n    legally appointed by the bishops the right to elect a pastor,\n    yet not even one congregation has up to the present moment\n    made any use of this privilege. When we consider that the\n    number of parishes where there is no pastor must be at least\n    a hundred; that in itself such right of choice corresponds\n    with the wishes of the congregations; farther, that the law\n    requires for the validity of the election merely a majority\n    of the members who put in an appearance; that a proposition\n    made to the _Landrath_ by ten parishioners justifies him in\n    ordering an election; and that, on the part of the influential\n    officials and their organs, nothing has been left undone to\n    induce the congregations to demand elections, not easily could\n    a more convincing proof of the perfect agreement of the people\n    with their priests be found than the fact that to this day in\n    only two or three congregations has it been possible to hunt\n    up ten men who were willing to make such a proposal, and that\n    not even in a single congregation has an election of this kind\n    taken place.\u201d[259]\n\nThis is indeed admirable; and it may, we think, be fairly doubted\nwhether, in the whole history of the church, so large a Catholic\npopulation has ever, under similar trials, shown greater strength\nor constancy. Of the peculiar nature of these trials we shall speak\nhereafter; the present article we will bring to a close with a few\nremarks upon what we conceive to have been one of the most important\nagencies in bringing about the perfect unanimity and harmony of action\nbetween priests and people to which the Catholics of Prussia must in\ngreat measure ascribe their immovable firmness in the presence of a most\nterrible foe. We refer to those Catholic associations in which cardinals,\nbishops, priests, and people have been brought into immediate contact,\nuniting their wisdom and strength for the attainment of definite ends.\n\nSuch unions have nowhere been more numerous or more thoroughly organized\nthan in Germany, though their formation is of recent date. It was during\nthe revolution of 1848, of which we have already spoken, that the German\nCatholics were roused to a more comprehensive knowledge of the situation,\nand resolved to combine for the defence of their rights and the\nprotection of their religion. Popular unions under the name and patronage\nof Pius IX. (Pius-Vereine) were formed throughout the fatherland, with\nthe primary object of bringing together once a week large numbers of\nCatholic men of every condition in life. At these weekly meetings the\nquestions of the day, in so far as they touched upon Catholic interests,\nwere freely discussed, and thus an intelligent and enlightened Catholic\npublic opinion was created throughout the length and breadth of the land.\nIn refuting calumnies against the church the speakers never failed to\ndemand the fullest liberty for all Catholic institutions.\n\nOn the occasion of beginning the restoration and completion of the\nCathedral of Cologne, the most religious of churches, the proposition\nthat an annual General Assembly of all the unions should be held was\nmade and received with boundless enthusiasm. The first General Assembly\ntook place at Mayence in October, 1848; and thither came delegates from\nAustria, Prussia, Bavaria, Saxony, Hanover, and all the other states of\nGermany, whose confidence and earnestness were increased by the presence\nof the Catholic members of the Parliament of Frankfort. For the first\ntime since Luther\u2019s apostasy the Catholics of Germany breathed the air of\nliberty. The bishops assembled at W\u00fcrzburg, gave their solemn approbation\nto the great work, and Pius IX. sent his apostolic benediction. Since\nthat time General Assemblies have been held at Breslau, May, 1849;\nRatisbon, October, 1849; Linz, 1850; Mayence, 1851; M\u00fcnster, 1852;\nVienna, 1853; Linz, 1856; Salzburg, 1857; Cologne, 1858; Freyburg, 1859;\nPrague, 1860; Munich, 1861; Aix-la-Chapelle, 1862; Frankfort, 1863, and\nin other cities, down to the recent persecutions.\n\nThese assemblies represented a complete system of organization, in which\nno Catholic interest was forgotten. Every village and hamlet in the land\nwas there, if not immediately, through some central union. We have\nhad the honor of being present at more than one of these assemblies,\nand the impressions which we then received are abiding. Side by side\nwith cardinals, bishops, princes, noblemen, and the most learned of\nprofessors sat mechanics, carpenters, shoemakers, and blacksmiths--not\nas in the act of worship, in which the presence of the Most High\nGod dwarfs our universal human littlenesses to the dead-level of an\nequal insignificance, but in active thought and co-operation for the\nfurtherance of definite religious and social ends. The brotherhood of the\nrace was there, an accomplished fact, and one felt the breathing as of a\ndivine Spirit compared with whose irresistible force great statesmen and\nmighty armies are weak as the puppets of a child\u2019s show.\n\nWe have not the space to describe more minutely the ends, aims, and\nworkings of the numberless Catholic associations of Germany; but we must\nexpress our deep conviction that no study could be more replete with\nlessons of practical wisdom for the Catholics of the United States.\nOrganization is precisely what we most lack. Our priests are laborious,\nour people are devoted, but we have not even an organized Catholic\npublic opinion--nay, no organ to serve as its channel, and make itself\nheard of the whole country. Many seem to think that the very question\nof the necessity of Catholic education is still an open one for us; and\nthis is not surprising, since we have no system of Catholic education.\nCatholic schools, indeed, in considerable number, there are, but there\nis no organization. The great need of the church in this country is\nthe organization of priests and people for the promotion of Catholic\ninterests. Through this we will learn to know one another; our views\nwill be enlarged, our sympathies deepened, and the truth will dawn upon\nus that, if we wish to be true to the great mission which God has given\nus, the time has come when American Catholics must take up works which\ndo not specially concern any one diocese more than another, but whose\nsignificance will be as wide as the nation\u2019s life.\n\n\nA STORY WITH TWO VERSIONS.\n\nYes, sir, this is Brentwood. And you are of the race, you say, though not\nof the name. Clarkson, sir? Surely, surely. I remember well. Miss Jane\nBrent--the first Miss Brent I can recall--married a Clarkson. So you are\nher grandson, sir? Then you are right welcome to me and mine. Come in,\ncome in. Or, if you will do me the honor, sit here in the porch, sir, and\nmy Kate will bring you of her best, and right glad will we be to wait\nagain on one with the Brent blood in him.\n\nNone of the name left? Ah! Mr. Clarkson, have you never heard, then? But\nyou must have heard of James Brent. Surely, surely. He lives still, God\npity him! What\u2019s that? You want to hear the story out? Well, sir, no man\nliving can tell you better than I, unless it be Mr. James\u2019 self. Settle\nyourself comfortably, Mr. Clarkson, and I\u2019ll tell you all.\n\nYes, this is Brentwood. \u2019Twas your great-great-grandsire founded it, two\nhundred years back, he and his brother--James and William. They began the\nwork which was to grow and grow into foundries and factories, and the\nbank that was to ruin all. But I\u2019m telling the end afore the beginning.\nThe next two brothers built the church you see there, sir, down the road;\nand the next two after them added the tower and founded the almshouses;\nand then came the fourth James and William Brent, and one of them was an\nidiot, and the other was and is the last of the name.\n\nI was twenty years older than Mr. James, and, before ever he came into\nbusiness, had served with his father. I watched him grow up, and I loved\nhim well. But from the first I knew he was different from the rest of his\nrace. He was his mother all over again--a true Mortimer, come of nobles,\nnot of townsfolk; all fire and sweetness and great plans for people\u2019s\ngood and happiness, but with little of the far-sighted Brent prudence.\nHe was just as tender of Mr. William as if he had had all the wits of\nhimself, and used to spend part of every day with him, and amuse him part\nof many a night when the poor gentleman could not sleep.\n\nTheir father died just when they came of age. They were twins, the last\nBrent Brothers, sir; and \u2019twas a great fortune and responsibility to fall\nfull and with no restraint into such young hands. Mr. James seemed like\none heart-broken for nigh a year after, and carried on everything just as\nhis father had done, till we all wondered at it; then he saw Miss Rose\nMaurice, and loved her--as well indeed he might--and after that things\nchanged. She was as simple in all her ways as she was beautiful, and\nwould have thought my cottage good enough, so long as he was in it with\nher. But he!--well, sir, I know he has kissed the very ground she trod\non, and he didn\u2019t think a queen\u2019s palace too fine for her. As soon as\never he saw her he loved her and set his soul to win her; and the very\nnext day he began a new home in Brentwood. Where is it? Alack! alack!\nsir. Wait till ye _must_ hear. Let\u2019s think, for a bit, of only the glad\ndays now.\n\nYou could not call it extravagance exactly. It set the whole town alive.\nSo far as he could, he would have none but Brentwood folk to work upon\nthe place where his bride was to dwell. And he said it was time that so\nold a family should have a home that would last as long as they. Ah! me,\nas long as they!\n\nOf course there was a city architect and a grand landscape gardener; but,\noh! the thoughtfulness of him whom we were proud to call our master.\nThere, in the very flush of his youth and love and hope, he took care of\nthe widows and the little children; contrived to make work for them; was\nhere and there and everywhere; and there was not a beggar nor an idler in\nBrentwood--not one. The house rose stately and tall; he had chosen a fair\nspot for it, where great trees grew and brooks were running, all ready\nto his hand; and that city man--why, sir, \u2019twas marvellous how he seemed\nto understand just how to make use of it all, and to prune a little\nhere and add a little there, with vines and arbors and glades and a\nwilderness, till you didn\u2019t know what God had done and what he had given\nhis creatures wit to do. And in the sunniest corner of the house--Brent\nHall, as they called it--Mr. James chose rooms for Mr. William, who was\npleased as a child with it all, and used to sit day by day and watch the\nwork go on.\n\nAll the time, too, the Brent iron-foundries were being added to and\nrenovated, till there was none like them round about; and the town\nstreets were made like city streets, and the town itself set into such\norder as never before; and when all was ready--\u2019twas the work of but\nthree years, sir--when the house was hung with pictures and decked with\nthe best; in the spring, when the grass and the trees were green, and\nthe flowers were blooming fair, then he brought her home. And when I saw\nher--well, sir, first I thought of the angels; but next (if I may say it;\nand I wot it is not wrong)--next I thought of our Blessed Lady. There was\na great painting in the Hall oratory--by some Spanish painter, they said.\nMurillo? Yes, sir, that is the name. It looked like Mrs. James Brent,\nsir. Not an angel, but a woman that could suffer and weep and struggle\nsore; and, pure and stainless, would still remember she was of us poor\nhumans, and so pity and pray for us.\n\nWe had been used to have Mr. Brent come into our houses, and to see him\nin the poorest cottages and the almshouses, with smiles and cheery words\nand money; but Mrs. James gave more than that, for she gave herself.\nI\u2019ve seen those soft hands bind wounds I shrank from; and that delicate\ncreature--I\u2019ve seen her kneeling by beds of dying sinners, while her face\ngrew white at what she saw and heard, and yet she praying over \u2019em, and,\nwhat\u2019s more, _loving_ \u2019em, till she made the way for the priest to come.\nAnd she laid out dead whom few of us would have touched for hire, and\nshe listened to the stories of the sad and tiresome, and her smile was\nsunshine, and the very sight of her passing by lifted up our minds to\nGod. Her husband thwarted her in nothing. What was there to thwart her\nin? He loved her, and she should do what she would in this work which was\nher heart\u2019s joy.\n\nThen we had been used to see Mr. James in church regular, weekday Mass\nand Sunday Mass; but Mrs. James was there any time, early mornings and\nnoons and nights. I fancy she loved it better than the stately Hall.\nAfter she came, her husband added the great south transept window from\nGermany, and the organ that people came miles to hear; and he said it was\nher gift, not his. The window picture is a great Crucifixion and Our Lady\nstanding by. You\u2019ll understand better, Mr. Clarkson, ere I finish, what\nit says to Brentwood folk now.\n\nThe first year there was a daughter only; but the next there came a son.\nAfter that, for six long years there were no more children, but then\nanother son saw the light. What rejoicings, what bonfires, what clanging\nof bells, there was! But ere night the clanging changed to tolling and\nthe shouts to tears; for the child died. And when Mrs. James came among\nus again, very white and changed and feeble, we all knew that with Mr.\nJames and Mr. William, we were seeing the last Brent Brothers, whatever\nour grandchildren might see.\n\nHowever, _she_ was spared, and Mr. James took heart of such grace as\nthat, and said it would be Brent and Son, which sounded quite as well\nwhen one was used to it. And to make himself used to it--or to stifle the\ndisappointment, as I really think--he began the Brent Bank. There had\nbeen a Brent Bank here for years past, and to it all Brentwood and half\nthe country round trusted their earnings. Only a few really rich people\nhad much to do with it, but men in moderate circumstances, young doctors\nand lawyers with growing families, widows, orphans, seamstresses, the\nfactory people, laborers, thought there was no bank like that. Mr. James\u2019\nkind spirit showed itself there as elsewhere, and nobody felt himself too\ninsignificant to come there, if only with a penny.\n\nOften and often I sit here and wonder, Mr. Clarkson, why it all was--why\nGod ever let it be--the shame and the sorrow and the suffering that came.\nI know Mr. James was lavish, but, if he spent much on himself, he spent\nmuch on others too; and he made God\u2019s house as beautiful as his own. For\na time it looked as if God\u2019s blessing was on him; for he prospered year\nby year, and, except for his child\u2019s dying and his wife\u2019s frail health,\nhis cup of joy seemed running over.\n\nBy and by came a year--you may just remember it, sir--a year of very hard\ntimes for the whole country. Banks broke, and old houses went by the\nboard, and men were thrown out of work, and there was a cry of distress\nthrough all the land. But Brentwood folk hadn\u2019t a thought of fear. Still,\nin that year, from the very first of it, something troubled me. Master\nwas moody now and then; went up to the city oftener; had letters which\nhe did not show to me, who had seen all his business correspondence\nand his father\u2019s for thirty years and more. Sometimes he missed Mass,\nand presently I noted with a pang that he did not receive the Blessed\nSacrament regular as he used. And Mrs. James was pale, and her eyes, that\nonce were as bright and clear as sunshine, grew heavy and dark, and she\nlooked more and more like the picture in her oratory; but it made one\nvery sad somehow to see the likeness.\n\nThe hard times began at midsummer. The Lent after there was a mission of\nDominican friars here. I was special busy that week, and kept at work\ntill after midnight. One evening, about eight, Mr. James came hurriedly\ninto the office and asked for the letters. He turned them over, looked\nblank, then said the half-past eleven mail would surely bring the one\nhe wanted, and he should wait till then and go for it himself. For five\nminutes or so he tried to cast up some accounts; then, too nervous-like\nto be quiet longer, he said: \u201cI\u2019ll go and hear the sermon, Serle. It will\nserve to fill up the time.\u201d And off he went.\n\nThe clock struck the hour and the half-hour, and the hour and the\nhalf-hour, and I heard the half-past eleven mail come in, and, soon\nafter, Mr. James\u2019 step again, but slow now, like one in deep thought. In\nhe came, and I caught a glimpse of his face, pale and stern, with the\nlips hard set. He shut himself into his private room, and I heard him\npacing up and down; then there came a pause, and he strode out again. He\nseemed very odd to me, but he tried to laugh, as he put down two slips\nfor telegrams on my desk. \u201cWhich would you send?\u201d said he.\n\nOne was, \u201cGo on. I consent to all your terms.\u201d The other was, \u201cStop. I\nwill have nothing more to do with it, no matter what happens.\u201d\n\nSomething told me in my heart that, though he was trying to pass this off\nin his old way like a joke, my master--my dear master--was in a great\nstrait. I looked up and answered what he had not said at all to get an\nanswer, with words which rose to my lips in spite of myself. Says I:\n\u201cSend what Mrs. James would want you to send, sir.\u201d And then his ruddy,\nkind face bleached gray like ashes, and he gave a groan, and the next\nminute he was gone.\n\nThough my work was done for that night, I would not leave the bank; for\nI thought he might come back. And back he did come, a full hour after,\nsteady and grave and not like my master. For, Mr. Clarkson, the bright\nboy-look I had loved so, which, with the boy-nature too, had never seemed\nto leave him, was all gone out of his face, and I knew surely I never\nshould see it there again. He wrote something quickly, then handed it to\nme, bidding me send telegrams to the bank trustees as there ordered. The\nslip which bore my direction bore also the words, with just a pencil-line\nerasure through them, \u201cGo on. I consent to all your terms.\u201d So, for good\nor for ill, whichever it might be, the other was the one he must have\nsent.\n\nThese telegrams notified the trustees of a most important meeting to\nwhich they were summoned, and at that meeting I had, as usual, to be\npresent. Perhaps his colleagues saw no change in him; but I, who had\nserved him long, saw much. O Mr. Clarkson, Mr. Clarkson! whatever you may\nbe--and you are young still--_be honest_. For, sir, there\u2019s one thing of\nmany terrible to bear, and it\u2019s got to be borne here or hereafter by them\nas err from uprightness; and that thing is shame. I\u2019d seen him kneel at\nthe altar that morning, and she beside him, bless her! That\u2019s where he\ngot strength to endure the penance he had brought upon himself; else I\ndon\u2019t know how he ever could have borne it or have done it.\n\nThey sat there about him where they had often sat before, those fifteen\ncountry gentlemen, some of whom had been his father\u2019s and his uncle\u2019s\nfriends, and some his own schoolmates and companions. And he stood up,\nand first he looked them calm and fearless full in their faces, and then\nhis voice faltered and stopped, and then they all felt that it was indeed\nsomething beyond ordinary that was coming.\n\nDon\u2019t ask me to tell my master\u2019s shame as he told it, without a gloss or\nan excuse, plain and bald and to the point. I knew and they knew that\nthere was excuse for his loving and lavish nature, but he made none for\nhimself.\n\nWell, there\u2019s no hiding what all the world knows now. He had let himself\nbe led away into speculation and--God pity and forgive him!--into fraud,\ntill only ruin or added and greater sin stared him in the face; then,\nbrought face to face with that alternative, he had chosen--just ruin, sir.\n\nThere was dead silence for a space, till Sir Jasper Meredith, the oldest\nman there, and the justest business man I ever met, said gravely: \u201cDo you\nrealize, Mr. Brent, that this implies ruin to others than to you?\u201d\n\nHe was not thinking of himself, though this trouble would straiten him\nsorely; he was thinking, and so was my master, and so was I, of poor men,\nand lone women, and children and babies, made penniless at a blow; of the\nworks stopped; of hunger and sickness and cold. Mr. James bowed his head;\nhe could not speak.\n\nThen I had to bring out the books, and we went carefully over them\npage by page. It was like the Day of Judgment itself to turn over those\naccounts, and to read letters that had to be read, and to find out, step\nby step, and in the very presence of the man we had honored and trusted,\nthat he had really fallen from his high place. He quivered under it, body\nand soul, but answered steadily every question Sir Jasper put to him;\nspoke in such a way that I was sure he as well as I thought of the last\ngreat day, and was answering to One mightier than man. And presently,\nwhen they had reached the root of it--well, Mr. Clarkson, it was sin\nand it was shame, and I dare not call it less before God; yet it was\nsin which many another man does unblushingly, and had he persisted in\nit--had he only the night previous sent that message, \u201cGo on\u201d--it was\npossible and probable that he could have saved himself. Yet, if I could\nhave had my choice then or now, I would rather have seen him stand there,\ndisgraced and ruined by his own act and will, than have had him live for\nanother day a hypocrite.\n\nBut Sir Jasper said never a word of praise or blame till the whole\ninvestigation was ended; listened silently while Mr. James told his plan\nto sell all he owned in Brentwood, pay what debts he could, and then\nbegin life over again abroad, and work hard and steadily to retrieve his\nfortunes, that he might pay all and stand with a clear conscience before\nhe died. Then Sir Jasper rose and came to him, put his two hands on Mr.\nJames\u2019 shoulders, and looked him straight in the eyes. \u201cJames Brent,\u201d\nhe said, \u201cI knew your father before you, and your father\u2019s father, but\nI never honored them more, and I never honored you more, than on this\nday when you confess to having disgraced your name and theirs, but have\nhad the honesty and manliness to confess it. Disgrace is disgrace; but\nconfession is the beginning of amendment.\u201d\n\nThat was all. There was no offer of money help; all Sir Jasper could\noffer would have been but a drop in the ocean of such utter ruin. There\nwas no advice to spare himself before he spared his neighbor; Sir Jasper\nwas too just for that. But after those words I saw my master\u2019s eyes grow\nmoist and bright, and a gleam of hope come into his face. My poor master!\nmy poor master! Thank God we cannot see the whole of suffering at the\nbeginning!\n\nThe intention was not to let the news get abroad that night. Mr. James\nwent home to tell his wife and children--how terrible that seemed to\nme!--and I sat busy in the office. It was the spring of the year. Fifteen\nyears ago the coming month he had brought his bride home in the sunshine\nand the flowers. This afternoon darkened into clouds, and rain came and\nthe east wind. I lighted the lamps early and went to my work again.\nPresently I heard a sound such as I never heard before--a low growl, or\nroar, or shout, that wasn\u2019t thunder or wind or rain. It grew louder; it\nwas like the tramp of many feet, hurrying fast, and in the direction of\nthe bank. Then cries--a name, short, distinct, repeated again and again:\n\u201cBrent! Brent! James Brent!\u201d\n\nI went to the window. There they were, half Brentwood and more, clamoring\nfor the sight of the man they trusted above all men. I flung the window\nup and they saw me.\n\n\u201cHalloo, there, Joseph Serle!\u201d cried the leader, a choleric Scot who had\nnot been many years among us. \u201cWhere\u2019s our master?\u201d\n\n\u201cNot here,\u201d says I, with a sinking at my heart.\n\n\u201cHe knows,\u201d piped a woman\u2019s shrill voice; \u201cmake him tell us true.\u201d\n\nAnd then the Scot cries again: \u201cHalloo, Joseph Serle, there! Speak us\ntrue, mon, or ye\u2019ll hang for\u2019t. Is our money safe?\u201d\n\nWhat could I say? Face after face I saw by the glare of torches--faces of\nneighbors and friends and kin--and not one but was a loser, and few that\nwere not well-nigh ruined. And while I hesitated how to speak again that\nwoman spoke: \u201cWhere\u2019s James Brent? Has he run, the coward?\u201d\n\nThat was too much. \u201cHe\u2019s home,\u201d cried I, \u201cwhere you and all decent folk\nshould be.\u201d\n\n\u201cHome! home!\u201d They caught the word and shouted it. \u201cWe\u2019ll go home too.\nWe\u2019ll find James Brent.\u201d And the tide turned towards the Hall.\n\nI flew down the back-stairs to the stable, mounted the fleetest horse,\nand galloped him bareback to Brent Hall; but, fast as I rode, the east\nwind bore an angry shout behind me, and, if I turned my head, I saw\ntorches flaring, and the ground seemed to tremble with the hurrying tramp\nof feet.\n\nI don\u2019t know how they bore it or how I told \u2019em. I know I found them\ntogether, him and her, and she was as if she had not shed a tear, and her\neyes were glowing like stars, bright, and tender, and sad, and glad all\nat once. I had hardly time to tell the news, when the sound I had dreaded\nfor \u2019em broke upon us like the rush and the roar of an awful storm. On\nthey came, trampling over the garden-beds, waving their torchlights,\ncalling one name hoarse and constant--\u201cBrent! Brent! James Brent!\u201d\n\n\u201cMy love,\u201d he said, bending down to her, \u201cstay while I go to them.\u201d\n\nAnd then she looked at him with a look that was more heavenly than any\nsmile, and said only: \u201cJames, my place is by your side, and I will keep\nit.\u201d\n\nHe put his hand quick over his eyes like one in great awe, smiled with a\nsmile more sad than tears, then opened the hall door and stood out before\nthe crowd--there where many a man and woman of them had seen him bring\nhis young bride home. And the sudden silence which fell upon them his own\nvoice broke. \u201cMy friends,\u201d he said, \u201cwhat would you have of me?\u201d\n\nStraight and keen as a barbed arrow, not from one voice, but from many,\nthe question rose, \u201cIs our money safe?\u201d And after that some one called:\n\u201cWe\u2019ll trust your word, master, \u2019gainst all odds.\u201d\n\nI had thought that scene in the bank was like the Judgment Day; but what\nwas this? He tried to speak, but his lips clave together. Then I saw her\ndraw a little nearer--not to touch him or to speak to him; she did not\neven look at him, neither at the people, but out into the darkness, and\nup and far away; and her very body, it seemed to me, was praying.\n\n\u201cIs our money safe?\u201d It was like a yell now, and James Brent made answer:\n\u201cMy friends, I am a ruined man.\u201d\n\n\u201cIs our money safe?\u201d Little children\u2019s voices joined in the cry. My God,\nlet Brentwood never hear the like again!\n\nMy master held out his hands like any beggar; then he fell down upon his\nknees. \u201cI confess to you and to God,\u201d he said, \u201cthere is not one penny\nleft.\u201d\n\nMr. Clarkson, I am Brentwood born and bred. I love my master, but I love\nmy place and people too. We are a simple folk and a loving folk. It is\nan awful thing to shake the trust of such. They had deemed their honor\nand their property for ever safe with this one man, and in an hour and at\na word their trust was broken, their scanty all was gone, their earthly\nhopes were shattered. Mr. Clarkson, sir, it drove them wild.\n\nThat day had set on Brent Hall fair and stately; the morrow dawned on\nblackened ruins. The grounds lay waste; the fountains were dry; pictures\nwhich nobles had envied had fed the flames; fabrics which would have\ngraced a queen stopped the babbling of the brooks; and in front of Brent\nBank hung effigies of the last Brent Brothers, with a halter about the\nneck of each.\n\nHe had planned--my master, my poor master!--to retrieve all. Why could it\nnot be? God knows best, but it is a mystery which I cannot fathom. That\nnight\u2019s horror and exposure brought him to the very gates of death; and\nwhen he rose up at last, it was as a mere wreck of himself, never to work\nagain. His wife\u2019s dowry went to the people whom he had ruined and who had\nruined him. They lived until her death, as he lives still, on charity.\n\nAnd that is all? No, Mr. Clarkson, not quite all. He was brave enough,\nsince he could not win back his honor otherwise, to stay among us and\ngain a place again in the hearts he had wounded sore. Sometimes I think\nhe teaches us a better lesson, old, and alone, and poor, than if he had\ncome to build his fallen home once more. I think, sir, we have learned to\npity and forgive as we never should have done otherwise, since we have\nseen him suffering like any one of us; as low down as any one of us.\n\n\nJAMES BRENT\u2019S VERSION.\n\nHe has told you the story, then, my boy, has he? And you are the last of\nus, and you have my name--James Brent Clarkson. The last? Then I will\ntell you more than he could tell you. Do not shrink or fancy it will pain\nme. I would like to let you know all, my boy--not for my sake; but you\nsay you are only half a Catholic, and I would have you learn something of\nthe deep reality of the true faith.\n\nThe night I waited for the half-past eleven train I had been stopped on\nmy way to the bank by a crowd at the church door, and I heard one man say\nto another: \u201cThey\u2019re dark times, neighbor--as dark as our land\u2019s seen\nthese hundred years.\u201d And his mate answered him: \u201cMaybe so, Collins;\nmaybe so. But Brentwood don\u2019t feel \u2019em much. I believe, and so does\nmost folks, that if all other houses fell, and e\u2019en the Bank of England\nbroke, Brent Brothers would stand. It\u2019s been honest and true for four\ngenerations back, and so \u2019twull be to the end on\u2019t.\u201d Then the crowd\nparted, the men went into the church, and I passed down the street.\n\n\u201cHonest and true for four generations back, and so \u2019twull be to the end\non\u2019t.\u201d The words haunted me. At last, in desperation, to rid myself of\nthe thought, I went to church also. Going in by a side door, I found\nmyself in a corner by a confessional, quite sheltered from view, but\nwith the pulpit in plain sight. There, raised high above the heads of\nthe people, the preacher stood, a man of middle age, who looked as if\nhe had been at some time of his life in and of the world; his face that\nof one who has found it almost a death-struggle to subdue self to the\nobedience and the folly of the cross. He seemed meant for a ruler among\nhis fellows. I wondered idly what he was doing there in the preacher\u2019s\nfrock, speaking to the crowd.\n\nHe was telling, simply and plainly, of our Lord\u2019s agony in the garden.\nBut simple and plain as were his words, there was something in the face\nand voice which drew one into sympathetic union with this man, who spoke\nas if he were literally beholding the load of our sin lying upon the\nLord\u2019s heart till his sweat of blood started. And when he had painted\nthe scene to us, he paused as hearing the awful cry echo through the\nstillness that reigned in the crowded church, then bent forward as if his\neyes would scan our very hearts, and spoke once more.\n\nI cannot tell you what he said, but before he ended I knew this: my sin\ncost our Lord\u2019s agony; added sin of mine would be added anguish of his.\nThe choice lay before me. When I showed Serle those two despatches, the\none \u201cStop,\u201d the other \u201cGo on,\u201d I held there what would be my ruin for\ntime or for eternity.\n\nThere is a world unseen, and mighty; its powers were round me that\nnight like an army. Hitherto I had been deceiving myself with the plea\nof necessity of others\u2019 interests to be considered, of my honor to be\nsustained. That night another motive rose before me, but it was of an\nhonor put to dishonor--the Lord of glory bowed down to the earth by shame.\n\nThe letter must be answered before morning, so pressing was my need.\nI decided to go to the telegraph office, and by the time I reached it\nmy mind must be made up. But, in the street, I came face to face with\nthe preacher I had heard that night. The moon was near the full. We two\nlooked straight at each other, passed, then turned as by one impulse,\nand faced again. They who fight a fight to its end, and conquer, but\nonly with wounds whose scars they must bear to their graves, sometimes\ngain a great power of reading the souls of those who are fighting a like\ncontest, and know not yet if it will end in victory or defeat. Some fight\nlike mine I felt sure that priest had fought. \u201cWhat would you have, my\nbrother?\u201d he asked.\n\n\u201cAnswers to two questions, father,\u201d I replied. \u201cIf a man has done wrong\nto others, and can only repair it by added wrong, shall he disgrace\nhis own good name for ever by avowal, or shall he sin? And if his fall\ninvolves the suffering of his innocent wife and children, may he not save\nhimself from shame for their sake? It is a matter which may not wait now\nfor confession even. Answer as best you may, for the love of God.\u201d\n\nI fancied that the stern face before me softened and grew pale, and in\nthe momentary stillness I understood that the Dominican was praying. Then\nhe answered, few words and firm, as one who _knew_:\n\n\u201cTo choose disgrace is to choose the path our divine Lord chose. To\ninvolve our dearest in suffering is to know his anguish whose blessed\nMother stood beneath his cross.\u201d\n\nThen, after one more slight, intense silence, \u201cMy brother,\u201d he said\nearnestly, \u201cI do not know your life, but I know my own. To drink the\nLord\u2019s cup of shame to its dregs--_with him_--is a blessed thing to do,\nif he gives a sinner grace to do it.\u201d\n\nTell me a thousand times that you have no faith yourself; that to love\nGod passionately is a dream, a delusion, unworthy of our manly nature;\nthat to choose shame is folly, to choose suffering is a mad mistake--what\nshame could atone for my sins or give back to the poor the means of which\nmy folly had robbed them? What can your words count with those who have\nonce tasted the bitter sweetness of the Lord\u2019s own chalice? Suddenly,\nstanding there, I knew what it means to love God more than houses or\nlands, wife or children; to have him more real to the soul than they to\nthe heart; to be willing and glad to forsake all for him; to know I had\none more chance left to do his will, not Satan\u2019s; and to make my choice.\nHaving brought his agony on him, there was nothing more I _could_ do but\nbear it with him.\n\nMy boy, though you came on my invitation, you chose the twilight in\nwhich to come to me, that I might hide my shame at meeting you. Such\nshame _died dead_ in two awful nights and days: First, confession before\nthe priest of God; then to colleagues and friends; then to my wife and\nto my son--oh! that stings yet; then to an angry throng, whose trust I\nhad betrayed, whose hopes I had blasted, whose love and reverence I had\nturned to hate and scorn. I have seen my home in ruins, my effigy hung\nup and hooted at in the public square, my name become a byword, my\nrace blotted out. I am an old man now, and still they tell my story in\nBrentwood; each child learns it; strangers hear of it. Yet, if the power\nwere mine to alter these twenty years of humiliation, I would not lose\none hour of suffering or shame.\n\nYou ask me why? Thirty-five years ago I stood here, the centre and the\nfavorite of this town, and I set myself to work my own will, to gain\nglory for me and mine. My wife, my name, my home, were my idols. It\nseemed an innocent ambition, but it was not for God, and it led me into\nevil work. You told me that since you came of age you have been but once\nto confession. It is by the light of that sacrament that what seems to\nyou the mystery of my life is read. For a Catholic--whether striving\nafter perfection, or struggling up from sin to lasting penitence--has\nfor pattern the life of Jesus, the doing all in union with him, after\nhis example. What is the sacrament of penance but the bearing of shame,\nthough in the presence of a compassionate priest, with him who, when\nhe could have rescued us at the price of one drop of his most precious\nblood, chose to die in ignominy, bearing before the world the entire\nworld\u2019s disgrace? My boy, if in any way, by the love of our common name,\nI can influence you, _go back to confession_. It is the very sacrament\nfor men who would be upright, and loyal, and strong, and true; or who,\nhaving fallen, would humbly and bravely bear for Christ\u2019s sake the\ndisclosure and the penalty.\n\nMy penance--given by God, mark you--was heavy, men think. Was it heavier\nthan my sin? They do not know everything. All my life I had been helped,\nguarded, upheld; and for such to fall is a deadlier sin than for others.\nThe infinite love of God bore with me and saved me. And as, day by day,\nlike the unremitted lashes of a scourge, suffering fell to my portion,\nI tell you that a strange, an awful sweetness mingled with the anguish.\nI knew it was the hand of God that smote me, and that he smote here to\nspare hereafter.\n\nOh! do not look at me. Stop! Turn your face away! I thought all such\nshame was dead, but there are moments when it overwhelms me with its\nsting. Did I say or dare to think that _God loves me_? Wait, wait, till I\ncan remember what it means!\n\nYes, I know now. Through all that night, while the torches glared, and\nwrathful faces looked curses at me, and lips shouted them, ever through\nall I saw, as it were, One sinless but reputed with the wicked; stripped\nof his garments as I of my pride; made a spectacle to angels and to men;\nmocked, reviled, scourged, crucified; and through the wild tumult I heard\na voice say, as of old to the repentant thief on the cross: \u201cThis day\nthou shalt be with me.\u201d And through all my heart was answering to his\nmost Sacred Heart, \u201cI, indeed, justly; for I receive the due reward of\nmy deeds: but this man hath done no evil.\u201d How could I wish to be spared\na single pang or lose one hour of shame with him? What part could any\nChristian take but to suffer with him, having made him suffer? And when\none has said \u201cwith him,\u201d one has explained all. But, somehow, people do\nnot always seem to understand.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nUnderstand? Ah! no. It is a story, not of two versions, but of many. Some\ncalled James Brent a fool, and some a madman, and some said he should\nhave saved his honor and his name at all hazards; and some, that he had\nno right to entail such suffering on his household. But there is one\nlight by which such stories should be read, that is truer than these.\nWhen time is gone, and wealth is dust, and earthly honor vanishes like\nsmoke, then, by the standard of the cross of Christ, wealth, and pomp,\nand pleasure, and business shall be duly tried. Shun humiliation here\nas we will, there shall be after this the judgment, when the Prince of\nGlory, who pronounces final sentence, will be he who, while on earth,\nchose for his portion a life of suffering and a death of shame.\n\n\nANTI-CATHOLIC MOVEMENTS IN THE UNITED STATES.\n\nLike commercial panics, periodical outbursts of irreligious fanaticism\nseem to have become regular incidents in the history of the United\nStates--occurrences to be looked for with as much certainty as\nif they were the natural outgrowth of our civilization and the\npeculiarly-constituted condition of American society. Though springing\nfrom widely different causes, these intermittent spasms have a marked\nresemblance in their deleterious effects on our individual welfare\nand national reputation. Both are demoralizing and degrading in their\ntendencies, and each, in its degree, finally results in the temporary\ngain of a few to the lasting injury and debasement of the multitude.\nIn other respects they differ materially. Great mercantile reverses\nand isolated acts of peculation, unfortunately, are not limited to one\ncommunity or to the growth of any particular system of polity, but are\nas common and as frequent in despotic Asia and monarchical Europe as in\nrepublican America. Popular ebullitions of bigotry, on the contrary,\nare, or, more correctly, ought to be, confined to those countries where\nignorance and intolerance usurp the place of enlightened philanthropy and\nwise government. They are foreign to the spirit of American institutions,\nhostile to the best interests of society, and a curse to those who\ntolerate or encourage them. The brightest glory of the fathers of the\nrepublic springs, not so much from the fact that they separated the\ncolonies from the mother country and founded a new nation--for that is\nnothing strange or unheard-of in the world\u2019s history--but that they made\nits three millions of inhabitants free as well as independent: free\nnot only from unjust taxation and arbitrary laws, but for ever free to\nworship their Creator according to the dictates of their conscience,\nunawed by petty authority and unaffected by the shifting counsels of\nsubsequent legislators.\n\nFrom this point of view the Revolution appears as one of the grandest\nmoral events in the records of human progress; and when we reflect on\nthe numerous pains, penalties, and restrictions prescribed by the\ncharters and by-laws of the colonies from whence our Union has sprung,\nit challenges our most profound admiration and gratitude. This complete\nreligious equality, guaranteed by our fundamental law, has ever been\nthe boast of every true American citizen, at home and abroad. From the\nhalls of Congress to the far Western stump-meeting we hear it again\nand again enunciated; it is repeated by a thousand eloquent tongues\non each recurring anniversary of our independence, and is daily and\nweekly trumpeted throughout the length and breadth of the land by the\nmyriad-winged Mercuries of the press. This freedom of worship, freedom\nof conscience, and legal equality, as declared and confirmed by our\nforefathers, has become, in fact, not only the written but also the\ncommon law of the land--the birthright of every native-born American, the\nacquired, but no less sacred, privilege of every citizen by adoption.\nWhoever now attempts to disturb or question it, by word or act, disgraces\nhis country in the eyes of all mankind, and defiles the memory of our\ngreatest and truest heroes and statesmen.\n\nSo powerful, indeed, were the example and teachings of those wise men who\nlaid broad and deep the foundations of our happy country that, during the\nfirst half-century of our national existence, scarcely a voice was raised\nin opposition or protest against the principle of religious liberty\nas emphatically expressed in the first amendment to the Constitution.\nA whole generation had to pass away ere fanaticism dared to raise its\ncrest, until the solemn guarantees of our federal compact were assailed\nby incendiary mobs and scouted by so-called courts of justice. The\nfirst flagrant instance of this fell spirit of bigotry happened in\nMassachusetts, and naturally was directed against an institution of\nCatholic learning.\n\nIn 1820 four Ursuline nuns arrived in Boston and established there a\nhouse of their order. Six years later they removed to the neighboring\nvillage of Charlestown, where they purchased a piece of ground, and,\ncalling it Mt. St. Benedict, erected a suitable building and reduced the\nhitherto barren hill-side to a state of beautiful cultivation. In 1834\nthe community had increased to ten, all ladies of thorough education\nand refinement. From the very beginning their success as teachers was\nacknowledged and applauded, and their average attendance of pupils was\ncomputed at from fifty to sixty. Of these, at least four-fifths were\nProtestants, the daughters of the best American families, not only of New\nEngland, but of the Middle and Southern States. Though it was well known\nthat the nuns had ever been most scrupulously careful not to meddle with\nthe religious opinions of their scholars, and that not one conversion to\nthe church could be ascribed to their influence, the fact that a school\nconducted by Catholic religious should have acquired so brilliant a\nreputation, and that its patrons were principally Protestants of high\nsocial and political standing, was considered sufficient in the eyes of\nthe Puritan fanatics to condemn it.\n\nIts destruction was therefore resolved on, and an incident, unimportant\nin itself, occurred in the summer of 1834 which was eagerly seized upon\nby the clerical adventurers who then, as now, disgraced so many sectarian\npulpits. It appears that an inmate of the convent, a Miss Harrison,\nhad, from excessive application to music, become partially demented, and\nduring one of her moments of hallucination left the house and sought\nrefuge with some friends. Her brother, a Protestant, having heard of her\nflight, accompanied by Bishop Fenwick, brought her back to the nunnery,\nto her own great satisfaction and the delight of the sisterhood. This\ntrifling domestic affair was eagerly taken up by the leaders of the\nanti-Catholic faction and magnified into monstrous proportions. The nuns,\nit was said, had not only driven an American lady to madness, but had\nimmured her in a dungeon, and, upon her attempting to escape, had, with\nthe connivance of the bishop and priests, actually tortured her to death.\nFalsehoods even more diabolical were invented and circulated throughout\nBoston. The following Sunday the Methodist and Congregational churches\nrang again with denunciations against Popery and nunneries, while one\nself-styled divine, a Dr. Beecher, the father of a numerous progeny of\nmale and female evangelists, some of whom have since become famous in\nmore senses than one, preached no less than three sermons in as many\ndifferent churches on the abominations of Rome. All the bigotry of Boston\nand the adjacent towns was aroused to the highest pitch of frenzy, and\nthreats against the convent were heard on every side.\n\nTo pacify the public mind the selectmen of Charlestown, on the following\nday, the memorable 11th of August, appointed a committee to examine into\nthe truth of the charges. They waited on the nuns, and were received\nby Miss Harrison, who was alleged to have been foully murdered. Under\nher personal guidance they searched every part of the convent and its\nappurtenances, till, becoming thoroughly satisfied with the falsity of\nthe reports, they retired to draw up a statement to that effect for\npublication in the newspapers. This was what the rabble dreaded, and, as\nsoon as the intention of the committee became known, the leaders resolved\nto forestall public sentiment by acting at once.\n\nAccordingly, about nine o\u2019clock in the evening, a mob began to collect\nin the neighborhood of Mt. St. Benedict. Bonfires were lit and exciting\nharangues were made, but still there were many persons reluctant to\nbelieve that the rioters were in earnest. They would not admit that any\ngreat number of Americans could be found base and brutal enough to attack\na house filled with defenceless and delicate women and children. They\nwere mistaken, however; they had yet to learn to what lengths fanaticism\ncan be carried when once the evil passions of corrupt human nature are\naroused. Towards midnight a general alarm was rung, calling out the\nengine companies of Boston, not to quell any fire or disturbance, but,\nas was proved by their conduct, to reinforce the rioters, if necessary.\nThe first demonstration was made by firing shot and stones against the\nwindows and doors of the main building, to ascertain if there were any\ndefenders inside; but, upon becoming satisfied that there were none, the\ncowardly mob burst open the gates and doors, and rushed wildly through\nthe passages and rooms, swearing vengeance against the nuns.\n\nTrusting to the protection of the authorities, the gentle sisters were\ntaken by surprise. The shots of their assailants, however, awakened\nthem to a sense of danger. Hastening from their beds, they rushed to\nthe dormitories, aroused the sleeping children, and had barely time\nto avoid the fury of the mob by escaping through a back entrance in\ntheir night-clothes. Everything portable, including money and jewelry\nbelonging to the pupils, was laid hold of by the intruders, the furniture\nand valuable musical instruments were hacked in pieces, and then the\nconvent was given to the flames amid the frantic cheers of assembled\nthousands. \u201cNot content with all this,\u201d says the report of Mr. Loring\u2019s\ncommittee, \u201cthey burst open the tomb of the establishment, rifled it of\nthe sacred vessels there deposited, wrested the plates from the coffins,\nand exposed to view the mouldering remains of their tenants. Nor is it\nthe least humiliating feature, in this scene of cowardly and audacious\nviolation of all that man ought to hold sacred, that it was perpetrated\nin the presence of men vested with authority and of multitudes of our\nfellow-citizens, while not one arm was lifted in the defence of helpless\nwomen and children, or in vindication of the violated laws of God and\nman. The spirit of violence, sacrilege, and plunder reigned triumphant.\u201d\n\nThe morning of the 12th of August saw what for years had been the quiet\nretreat of Christian learning and feminine holiness a mass of blackened\nruins; but the character of Massachusetts had received even a darker\nstain, a foul blot not yet wiped from her escutcheon. It was felt by\nthe most respectable portion of the citizens that some step should be\ntaken to vindicate the reputation of the State, and to place the odium\nof the outrage on those who alone were guilty. Accordingly, a committee\nof thirty-eight leading Protestant gentlemen, with Charles G. Loring\nas chairman, was appointed to investigate and report on the origin and\nresults of the disgraceful proceeding. It met in Faneuil Hall from day\nto day, examined a great number of witnesses, and made the most minute\ninquiries from all sources. Its final report was long, eloquent, and\nconvincing. After the most thorough examination, it was found, those\nProtestant gentlemen said, that all the wild and malicious assertions put\nforth in the sectarian pulpits and repeated in the newspapers, regarding\nthe Ursulines, were without a shadow of truth or probability; they\neulogized in the most glowing language the conduct of the nuns, their\nqualifications as teachers, their Christian piety and meekness, and their\ncareful regard for the morals as well as for the religious scruples of\ntheir pupils. They also attributed the wanton attack upon the nunnery to\nthe fell spirit of bigotry evoked by the false reports of the New England\npress and the unmitigated slanders of the anti-Catholic preachers, and\ncalled upon the legislative authorities to indemnify, in the most ample\nmanner, the victims of mob law and official connivance.\n\nBut the most significant fact brought to light by this committee was\nthat the fanatics, in their attack on Mt. St. Benedict, were not a mere\nheterogeneous crowd of ignorant men acting upon momentary impulse, but\na regular band of lawless miscreants directed and aided by persons\nof influence and standing in society. \u201cThere is no doubt,\u201d says the\nreport, \u201cthat a conspiracy had been formed, extending into many of the\nneighboring towns; but the committee are of opinion that it embraced\nvery few of respectable character in society, though some such may,\nperhaps, be actually guilty of an offence no less heinous, morally\nconsidered, in having excited the feelings which led to the design,\nor countenanced and instigated those engaged in its execution.\u201d Here\nwe find laid down, on the most unquestionable authority, the origin\nand birth-place of all subsequent Native American movements against\nCatholicity.\n\nBut the sequel to the destruction of the Charlestown convent was\neven more shameful than the crime itself. Thirteen men had been\narrested, eight of whom were charged with arson. The first tried was\nthe ringleader, an ex-convict, named Buzzell. The scenes which were\nenacted on that occasion are without a parallel in the annals of our\njurisprudence. The mother-superior, several of the sisters, and Bishop\nFenwick, necessary witnesses for the prosecution, were received in court\nwith half-suppressed jibes and sneers, subjected to every species of\ninsult by the lawyers for the defence, and were frowned upon even by\nthe judge who presided. Though the evidence against the prisoner was\nconclusive, the jury, without shame or hesitation, acquitted him, and he\nwalked out of court amid the wildest cheers of the bystanders. Similar\ndemonstrations of popular sympathy attended the trials of the other\nrioters, who were all, with the exception of a young boy, permitted to\nescape the penalty of their gross crimes.\n\nEven the State legislature, though urged to do so by many of the leading\npublic men of the commonwealth, refused to vote anything like an adequate\nsum to indemnify the nuns and pupils for their losses, amounting to over\na hundred thousand dollars. The pitiful sum of ten thousand dollars was\noffered, and of course rejected; and to this day the ruins of the convent\nstand as an eloquent monument of Protestant perfidy and puritanical\nmeanness and injustice.\n\nThe impunity thus legally and officially guaranteed to mobs and\nsacrilegious plunderers soon bore fruit in other acts of lawlessness\nin various parts of Massachusetts. A Catholic graveyard in Lowell was\nshortly after entered and desecrated by an armed rabble, and a house\nin Wareham, in which Mass was being celebrated, was set upon by a gang\nof ruffians known as the \u201cConvent Boys.\u201d A couple of years later the\nMontgomery Guards, a regular militia company, composed principally of\nCatholic freeholders of Boston, were openly insulted by their comrades on\nparade, and actually stoned through the streets by a mob of over three\nthousand persons.\n\nAs there were no more convents to be plundered and burned in the\nstronghold of Puritanism, the war on those glories of religion was kept\nup in a different manner, but with no less rancor and audacity. Taking\nadvantage of the excitement created by such men as Lyman Beecher and\nBuzzell, a mercenary publisher issued a book entitled _Six Months in\na Convent_, which was put together by some contemptible preacher in\nthe name of an illiterate girl named Reed, who, the better to mislead\nthe public, assumed the title of \u201cSister Mary Agnes.\u201d \u201cWe earnestly\nhope and believe,\u201d said the preface to this embodiment of falsehood,\n\u201cthat this little work, if universally diffused, will do more, by its\nunaffected simplicity, in deterring Protestant parents from educating\ntheir daughters in Catholic nunneries than could the most labored and\nlearned discourses on the dangers of Popery.\u201d Though the book was\nreplete with stupid fabrications and silly blunders, so grossly had\nthe popular taste been perverted that fifty thousand copies were sold\nwithin a year after its publication. The demand was still increasing,\nwhen another contribution to Protestant literature appeared, before the\nbroad, disgusting, and obscene fabrications of which the mendacity of\n\u201cSister Mary Agnes\u201d paled its ineffectual fires. This latter candidate\nfor popular favor, though it bore the name, destined for an immortality\nof infamy, of Maria Monk--a notoriously dissolute woman--was actually\ncompiled by a few needy and unscrupulous adventurers, reverend and\nirreverend, who found a distinguished Methodist publishing house, not\nquite so needy, though still more unscrupulous, to publish the work for\nthem, though very shame compelled even them to withhold their names from\nthe publication. And it was only owing to a legal suit arising from this\ninfamous transaction many years after that the fact was revealed that the\npublishers of this vilest of assaults on one of the holiest institutions\nof the Catholic Church was the firm of Harper Brothers. True to their\ncharacter, they saw that the times were favorable for an assault on\nCatholicity, even so vile as this one; and true to their nature again,\nthey refused to their wretched accomplice her adequate share in the wages\nof sin. Though bearing on its face all the evidences of diabolical malice\nand falsehood, condemned by the better portion of the press and by all\nreputable Protestants, the work had an unparalleled sale for some time.\nThe demand might have continued to go on increasing indefinitely, but,\nin an evil hour for the speculators, its authors, under the impression\nthat the prurient taste of the public was not sufficiently satiated with\nimaginary horrors, issued a continuation under the title of _Additional\nAwful Disclosures_. This composition proved an efficient antidote to\nthe malignant poison of the first. Its impurity and falsehoods were so\npalpable that its originators were glad to slink into obscurity and their\npatrons into silence, followed by the contempt of all honest men.\n\nJust ten years after the Charlestown outrage the spirit of Protestant\npersecution began to revive. Premonitory symptoms of political\nproscription appeared in 1842, in the constitutional conventions of Rhode\nIsland and Louisiana, and in the local legislatures of other States; but\nit was not till the early part of 1844 that it became evident that secret\nmeasures were being taken to arouse the dormant feeling of antipathy to\nthe rights of Catholics, so rife in the hearts of the ignorant Protestant\nmasses. New York, at first, was the principal seat of the disorder.\nMost of the newspapers of that period teemed with eulogistic reviews of\nbooks written against the faith; cheap periodicals, such as the Rev. Mr.\nSparry\u2019s _American Anti-Papist_, were thrust into the hands of all who\nwould read them by the agents of the Bible and proselytizing societies;\nand a cohort of what were called anti-papal lecturers, of which a\nreverend individual named Cheever was the leader, was employed to attack\nthe Catholic Church with every conceivable weapon that the arsenal of\nProtestantism afforded.\n\nThe popular mind being thus prepared for a change, the various elements\nof political and social life opposed to Catholicity were crystallized\ninto the \u201cAmerican Republican\u201d party, better known as the Native\nAmericans. On the 19th of March, 1844, the new faction nominated James\nHarper for mayor of the city of New York, and about the same time William\nRockwell was named for a similar office in Brooklyn. The platform upon\nwhich these gentlemen stood was simple but comprehensive: the retention\nof the Protestant Bible and Protestant books in the public schools;\nthe exclusion of Catholics of all nationalities from office; and the\namendment of the naturalization laws so as to extend the probationary\nterm of citizenship to twenty-one years. The canvass in New York was\nconducted with some regard to decency; but in the sister city, the\nNativists threw off all respect for law, their processions invaded the\ndistricts inhabited mainly by adopted citizens, assailed all who did\nnot sympathize with them, and riot and bloodshed were the consequence.\nIn Brooklyn the Nativist candidate was defeated, but Harper was elected\ntriumphantly by about twenty-four thousand votes. The ballots that placed\nsuch a man at the head of the municipality of the American metropolis\nwere deposited by both Whigs and Democrats, though each party had a\ncandidate in the field. The former contributed upwards of fourteen\nthousand, or three-fourths of their strength; their opponents somewhat\nless than ten thousand.\n\nBut the action of the city politicians was quickly repudiated and\ncondemned throughout the State. On the 13th of April the Whigs assembled\nin Albany and passed a series of resolutions denouncing in unequivocal\nterms the tenets of the Native Americans; and in two days after, at the\nsame place, and in, if possible, a more forcible manner, the Democracy\nentered their protest against the heresies and evil tendencies of the\npersecuting faction. Still, the \u201cAmerican Republicans\u201d showed such\nsigns of popular strength in various municipal elections that year\nthat the lower classes of politicians, of all shades of opinion, who\ndared not openly support them, were suspected of secretly courting\ntheir friendship. The nomination of Frelinghuysen with Henry Clay at\nthe Whig presidential convention of May 1, 1844, was well understood at\nthe time to be a bid for Nativist support, and eventually defeated the\ndistinguished Kentucky orator.\n\nIt is difficult to imagine how far the madness of the hour might have\ncarried ambitious political leaders and timid conventions, had not the\nscenes of sacrilege and murder which soon after disgraced the city of\nPhiladelphia, and stained its streets with innocent blood, sent a thrill\nof horror throughout the entire country.\n\nPhiladelphia had followed, if not anticipated, the example of New York\nin sowing broadcast the seeds of civil strife. Early in the year secret\nNativist societies were formed; sensational preachers like Tyng, in and\nout of place, harangued congregations and meetings; cheap newspapers were\nstarted for the sole purpose of vilifying Catholics and working upon the\nbaser passions of the sectarian population of the country. The motives\nof those engineers of discord were the same as those of their New York\nbrethren, and their method of attack equally treacherous and cowardly.\nOne of the principal charges against their Catholic fellow-citizens was\nthat they were hostile to free schools and education generally. To this\nunjust aspersion Bishop Kenrick, on the 12th of March, publicly replied\nin a short but lucid letter, in which he said:\n\n\u201cCatholics have not asked that the Bible be excluded from the public\nschools. They have merely desired for their children the liberty of using\nthe Catholic version, in case the reading of the Bible be prescribed by\nthe controllers or directors of the schools. They only desire to enjoy\nthe benefit of the constitution of the State of Pennsylvania, which\nguarantees the rights of conscience and precludes any preference of\nsectarian modes of worship. They ask that the school laws be faithfully\nexecuted, and that the religious predilections of the parents be\nrespected.\u2026 They desire that the public schools be preserved from all\nsectarian influence, and that education be conducted in a way that may\nenable all citizens equally to share its benefits, without any violence\nbeing offered to their conscientious convictions.\u201d\n\nSo deliberate and emphatic a denial had no effect on the wretched men who\ntyrannized over the second city in the Union, except that it was resolved\nto substitute brute force for reason, and to precipitate a collision\nwith their comparatively weak victims. Accordingly, on the 5th of May, a\nNativist meeting was held in Kensington. The design of the managers of\nthe meeting was evidently to provoke an attack; for, finding the place\nfirst selected for the gathering unmolested, they deliberately moved to\nthe market-house, in the actual presence of several adopted citizens.\nThis trick and the insulting speeches that followed had the desired\neffect. A riot took place, several shots were fired on both sides, and\nfour or five persons were more or less seriously wounded. The Nativists\nretreated, and made an unsuccessful attempt to burn a nunnery.\n\nThe most exaggerated reports of this affair were immediately circulated\nthrough Philadelphia. The next day the Nativists, fully armed, assembled\nand passed a series of resolutions of the most violent character.\nPreceded by an American flag, which bore an inscription as malicious as\nit was untrue, they attacked the Hibernian Hose Company, destroyed the\napparatus, and broke the fire-bell in pieces. Twenty-nine dwellings were\nburned to the ground, their hapless occupants, mostly women and children,\nfleeing in all directions amid the insults and shots of their savage\nassailants. The citizens were now thoroughly aroused, the military, under\nGen. Cadwalader, was called out, and Bishop Kenrick addressed a public\nadmonition to his flock to preserve peace, and, notwithstanding the\nprovocation, to exercise forbearance. But the demon of fanaticism, once\nlet loose, could not be easily laid. Rioting continued throughout the day\nand far into the night. Early on Wednesday morning S. Michael\u2019s Church,\nthe female seminary attached to it, and a number of private houses in the\nneighborhood were ruthlessly plundered and destroyed. \u201cDuring the burning\nof the church,\u201d said one of the Philadelphia papers, \u201cthe mob continued\nto shout; and when the cross at the peak of the roof fell, they gave\nthree cheers and a drum and fife played the \u2018Boyne Water.\u2019\u201d\n\nThe burning of S. Augustine\u2019s Church took place on the evening of the\nsame day. This building, one of the finest in the city, was peculiarly\nendeared to the Catholic inhabitants as having been one of their oldest\nchurches in Philadelphia. Many of the contributors to its building fund\nwere men of historic fame, such as Washington, Montgomery, Barry, Meade,\nCarey, and Girard. It had adjoining it extensive school-houses and a\ncommodious parsonage, and the clock in its tower was the one which had\nstruck the first tones of new-born American liberty. But the sacred\ncharacter of the building itself, and the patriotic memories which\nsurrounded it, could not save it from the torch of the Philadelphia mob.\n\n\u201cThe clock struck ten,\u201d wrote an eye-witness, \u201cwhile the fire was raging\nwith the greatest fury. At twenty minutes past ten the cross which\nsurmounted the steeple, and which remained unhurt, fell with a loud\ncrash, amid the plaudits of a large portion of the spectators.\u201d A very\nvaluable library and several splendid paintings shared the fate of the\nchurch.\n\nBut bad as was the conduct of the rioters, that of the authorities was\neven worse. The militia, when ordered out, did not muster for several\nhours after the time appointed, and when they did arrive they were only\npassive, if not gratified, spectators of the lawless scenes before them.\nWhen S. Michael\u2019s was threatened, the pastor, Rev. Mr. Donohue, placed\nit under the charge of Capt. Fairlamb, giving him the keys; yet the mob\nwas allowed to wreak its vengeance on it undisturbed. The basement of\nS. Augustine\u2019s was occupied by some armed men who had resolved to defend\nit at all hazards; but on the assurance of Mayor Scott and the sheriff\nthat they had troops and police enough to protect it, it was agreed, in\nthe interests of peace, to evacuate it. This had scarcely been done when\nthe militia and civic guard fell back before a thousand or more armed\nruffians and left the church to its fate. For nearly sixty hours the\nrioters were left in undisputed possession of the city; everything the\nCatholics held sacred was violated; men were dragged out of their homes,\nhalf-hanged and brutally maltreated, when not murdered outright; the\nhouses of adopted citizens were everywhere plundered, an immense amount\nof property was destroyed, and over two hundred families left desolate\nand homeless, without the slightest attempt being made to enforce the\nlaw. How many fell victims to Nativist hate and rage on this occasion has\nnever been known, but the killed and wounded were counted by scores.\n\nAn attempt to outrival Philadelphia in atrocity was made in New York\na few days after, but the precautionary steps of the authorities, the\nfirm attitude assumed by the late Archbishop Hughes, and the resolute\nstand taken by the Catholic population, headed by Eugene Casserly--who\nwas at that time editor of the _Freeman\u2019s Journal_--together with some\nyoung Irish-American Catholic gentlemen, so impressed the leaders of\nthe Nativists that all attempts of an incendiary nature, and all public\nefforts to sympathize with the Philadelphia mob, were abandoned. Nativism\nstaggered under the blow given it by its adherents in Philadelphia, and\nsoon sank into utter insignificance as a political power.\n\nAnother decade, however, passed, and we find it again rejuvenated.\nThis time it assumed the name of the Know-nothing party, and extended\nits ramifications through every State in the Union. Its declaration of\nprinciples contained sixteen clauses, as laid down by its organs, of\nwhich the following were regarded as the most vital: 1st. The repeal of\nall naturalization laws. 2d. None but native Americans for office. 3d.\nA Protestant common-school system. 4th. Perpetual war on \u201cRomanism.\u201d\n5th. Opposition to the formation of military companies composed of\n\u201cforeigners.\u201d 6th. Stringent laws against immigration. 7th. Ample\nprotection to Protestant interests. Though partly directed, apparently,\nagainst all persons of foreign birth, this new secret society was\nactually only opposed to Catholics; for many of the prominent members\nin its lodges were Irish Orangemen and Welsh, Scotch, and English\nunnaturalized adventurers who professed no form of belief.\n\nLike their predecessors of 1844, the Know-nothings employed a host of\nmendacious ministers and subsidized a number of obscure newspapers to\ncirculate their slanders against Catholics, native as well as adopted\ncitizens; but they also added a new feature to the crusade against\nmorality and civil rights. This was street-preaching--a device for\ncreating riots and bloodshed, for provoking quarrels and setting neighbor\nagainst neighbor, worthy the fiend of darkness himself. Wretched\ncreatures, drawn from the very dregs of society, were hired to travel\nfrom town to town, to post themselves at conspicuous street-corners,\nif possible before Catholic churches, and to pour forth, in ribald and\nblasphemous language, the most unheard-of slanders against the church.\nAs those outcasts generally attracted a crowd of idle persons, and were\nusually sustained by the presence of the members of the local lodge, the\nmerest interruption of their foul diatribes was the signal for a riot,\nending not unfrequently in loss of life or limb.\n\nThe first outrage that marked the career of the Know-nothings of 1854\nwas the attack on the Convent of Mercy, Providence, R. L., in April of\nthat year. Instigated by the newspaper attacks of a notorious criminal,\nwho then figured as a Nativist leader, the rowdy elements of that\nusually quiet city surrounded the convent, pelted the doors and windows\nwith stones, to the great alarm of the ladies and pupils within, and\nwould doubtless have proceeded to extremities were it not that the\nCatholics, fearing a repetition of the Charlestown affair, rallied for\nits protection and repeatedly drove them off. In June Brooklyn was the\nscene of some street-preaching riots, but in the following August St.\nLouis, founded by Catholics and up to that time enjoying an enviable\nreputation for refinement and love of order, acquired a pre-eminence in\nthe Southwest for ferocious bigotry. For two days, August 7 and 8, riot\nreigned supreme in that city; ten persons were shot down in the streets,\nmany more were seriously wounded, and a number of the houses of Catholics\nwere wrecked.\n\nOn the 3d of September of the same year the American Protestant\nAssociation of New York, an auxiliary of the Know-nothings, composed\nof Orangemen, went to Newark, N. J., to join with similar lodges of New\nJersey in some celebration. In marching through the streets of that\ncity they happened to pass the German Catholic church, and, being in a\nsportive mood, they did not hesitate to attack it. A _m\u00eal\u00e9e_ occurred,\nduring which one man, a Catholic, was killed and several were seriously\ninjured. The evidence taken by the coroner\u2019s jury showed that the\nadmirers of King William were well armed, generally intoxicated, and that\nthe assault and partial destruction of the church were altogether wanton\nand unprovoked. Early in the same month news was received of a succession\nof riots in New Orleans, the victims, as usual, being Catholics.\n\nBut the spirit of terrorism was not confined to one section or particular\nState. The virus of bigotry had inoculated the whole body politic. In\nOctober people of all shades of religious opinion were astounded to hear\nfrom Maine that the Rev. John Bapst, S. J., a clergyman of exemplary\npiety and mildness, had actually been dragged forcibly from the house\nof a friend by a drunken Ellsworth mob, ridden on a rail, stripped\nnaked, tarred and feathered, and left for dead. His money and watch were\nlikewise stolen by the miscreants. Father Bapst\u2019s crime was that, when\na resident of Ellsworth some time previously, he had entered into a\ncontroversy about public schools.\n\nYet, in the face of all these lawless proceedings, the Know-nothing\nparty increased with amazing rapidity. \u201cWithout presses, without\nelectioneering,\u201d said the New York _Times_, \u201cwith no prestige or power,\nit has completely overthrown and swamped the two old historic parties\nof the country.\u201d This was certainly true of New England, and notably\nso of Massachusetts, where, in the autumn of 1854, the Know-nothings\nelected their candidate for governor and nearly every member of the\nlegislature. In the State of New York Ullman, the standard-bearer of\nthe new army of persecution, received over 122,000 votes, and, though\ndefeated in the city, it was more than suspected that the Democrat who\nwas chosen as mayor had been a member of the organization. In many other\nStates and cities the power of the sworn secret combination was felt and\nacknowledged.\n\nIts influence and unseen grasp on the passions and prejudices of the\nlower classes of Protestants were plainly perceptible in the halls of\nCongress and in the executive cabinet. In the Senate William H. Seward\nwas the first and foremost to denounce the so-called American party. As\nearly as July, 1854, in a speech on the Homestead Bill, he took occasion\nto remark:\n\n\u201cIt is sufficient for me to say that, in my judgment, everything is\nun-American which makes a distinction, of whatever kind, in this country\nbetween the native-born American and him whose lot is directed to be cast\nhere by an over-ruling Providence, and who renounces his allegiance to a\nforeign land and swears fealty to the country which adopts him.\u201d\n\nThe example of the great statesman was followed by such men as Douglas,\nCass, Keitt, Chandler, and Seymour, while Senators Dayton and Houston,\nWilson, the late Vice-President, N. P. Banks, and a number of other\npoliticians championed the cause of intolerance as has since been\nconfessed, for their own selfish aggrandizement as much as from inherent\nlittleness of soul.\n\nMeanwhile, Massachusetts was completely controlled by the Know-nothings.\nTheir governor, Gardiner, had not been well in the chair of state when\nhe disbanded all the Irish military companies within his jurisdiction.\nThese were the Columbian, Webster, Shields, and Sarsfield Guards of\nBoston, the Jackson Musketeers of Lowell, the Union Guard of Lawrence,\nand the Jackson Guard of Worcester. The General Court, too, not to be\noutdone in bigotry by the executive, passed a law for the inspection of\nnunneries, convents, and schools, and appointed a committee to carry\nout its provisions. The first--and last--domiciliary visit of this body\nwas made to the school of the Sisters of Notre Dame in Roxbury. It is\nthus graphically described by the Boston _Advertiser_, an eminently\nProtestant authority: \u201cThe gentlemen--we presume we must call members of\nthe legislature by this name--roamed over the whole house from attic to\ncellar. No chamber, no passage, no closet, no cupboard, escaped their\nvigilant search. No part of the house was enough protected by respect for\nthe common courtesies of civilized life to be spared in the examination.\nThe ladies\u2019 dresses hanging in their wardrobes were tossed over. The\nparty invaded the chapel, and showed their respect--as Protestants, we\npresume--for the One God whom all Christians worship by talking loudly\nwith their hats on; while the ladies shrank in terror at the desecration\nof a spot which they believed hallowed.\u201d\n\nStill, the work of proscription and outrage went on in other directions.\nFifteen school-teachers had been dismissed in Philadelphia because\nthey were Catholics; the Rev. F. Nachon, of Mobile, was assaulted and\nnearly killed while pursuing his sacred avocations; a military company\nin Cincinnati, and another in Milwaukee, composed of adopted citizens,\nwere disbanded, and on the 6th and 7th of August, 1855, the streets of\nLouisville ran red with the blood of adopted citizens. In this last and\nculminating Know-nothing outrage eleven hundred voters were driven from\nthe polls, numbers of men, and even women, were shot down in the public\nthoroughfares, houses were sacked and burned, and at least five persons\nare known to have been literally roasted alive.\n\nA reaction, however, had already set in. Men of moderate views and\nunbiassed judgments began to tire of the scenes of strife, murder, and\nrapine that accompanied the victories of the Know-nothings. The first\nto deal it a deadly blow, as a political body, was Henry A. Wise, of\nVirginia, in his noble canvass of that State against the combined Whig\nand Nativist elements in 1855; and to the late Archbishop of New York,\nin his utter discomfiture of State Senator Brooks, is justly due the\nmerit of having first convinced the American people that the so-called\nAmerican party was actually the most dangerous enemy of American laws and\ninstitutions, the advocate of spoliation and persecution under the guise\nof patriotism and reform.\n\nThe decline of Nativism, though not so rapid as its growth, was equally\nsignificant, and its history as instructive. In 1856 a national\nconvention was called by the wreck of the party to nominate Fillmore for\nthe presidency, after overtures had been made in vain to the Republicans\nand Democrats. Fillmore was so badly defeated that he retired into\nprivate life and lost whatever little fame he had acquired in national\naffairs as Taylor\u2019s successor. Four years later Bell and Everett appeared\non the Know-nothing ticket, but so far behind were they in the race with\ntheir presidential competitors that very few persons cared to remember\nthe paucity of their votes. Gradually, silently, but steadily, like\nvermin from a sinking ship, the leaders slunk away from the already\ndoomed faction, and, by a hypocritical display of zeal, endeavored to\nobtain recognition in one or other of the great parties, but generally\nwithout success. Disappointed ambition, impotent rage, and, let us hope,\nremorse of conscience occasionally seized upon them, and the charity of\nsilence became to them the most desired of blessings. Perhaps if the late\ncivil war had not occurred, to swallow in the immensity of its operations\nall minor interests, we might have beheld in 1864 the spectre of Nativism\narising from its uneasy slumber, to be again subjected to its periodical\nblights and curses.\n\nFrom present appearances many far-seeing persons apprehend the recurrence\nin this year of the wild exhibitions of anti-Catholic and anti-American\nfanaticism which have so often blotted and blurred the otherwise\nstainless pages of our short history; that the centennial year of\nAmerican independence and republican liberty is to be signalized by a\nmore concerted, better organized, and more ramified attack on the great\nprinciples of civil and religious freedom which underlie and sustain\nthe fabric of our government. We trust, sincerely hope, that these men\nare mistaken. But if such is to be the case; if we Catholics are doomed\nonce more to be subjected to the abuse of the vile, the slander of the\nhireling, and the violence of an armed mob, the sooner we are prepared\nfor the contingency the better. If the scenes which have indelibly\ndisgraced Boston and Philadelphia, Ellsworth and Louisville, are to be\nagain rehearsed by the half-dozen sworn secret societies whose cabalistic\nletters disfigure the columns of so many of our newspapers, we must be\nprepared to meet the danger with firmness and composure. As Catholics,\ndemanding nothing but what is justly our due under the laws, our position\nwill ever be one of forbearance, charity, and conciliation; but as\nAmerican citizens, proud of our country and zealous for the maintenance\nof her institutions, our place shall be beside the executors of those\ngrand enactments which have made this republic the paragon and exemplar\nof all civil and natural virtues, no matter how imminent the danger or\nhow great the sacrifice. In lands less favored Catholic rights may be\nviolated by prince or mob with impunity, but we would be unworthy of\nour country and of its founders were we to shrink for a moment from the\nperformance of our trust as the custodians of the fundamental ordinance\nwhich guarantees full and absolute religious liberty to all citizens of\nthe republic.\n\n\nLOUISE LATEAU BEFORE THE BELGIAN ROYAL ACADEMY OF MEDICINE.[260]\n\n\nI.\n\nHow is the name of Louise Lateau to be mentioned without immediately\ncalling up all the tumulta which that name has provoked? Books of science\nand philosophy, official reports, academic discourses, reports of visits,\n_feuilletons_, conferences, pamphlets, articles in journals, every kind\nof literary production has been placed under contribution to keep the\npublic informed about the _stigmatis\u00e9e_ of Bois d\u2019Haine. For a year,\nhowever, these studies have betaken themselves to a region that might be\ncalled exclusively scientific, and have even received a kind of official\nconsecration from the recent vote of the Royal Academy of Medicine.\n\nIt may be of service to the reader who cannot occupy himself with\nspecial studies to give a brief exposition of the affair of Bois d\u2019Haine\nin itself, to show the different interpretations of it that have been\nattempted, and to indicate clearly the actual phase of the question from\na scientific point of view.\n\nAs early as about the middle of 1868 vague rumors were heard of strange\nevents which were taking place in a little village of Hainault. Every\nFriday a young girl showed on the different portions of her body\ncorresponding to the wounds of our Saviour Jesus Christ red stains from\nwhich blood flowed in greater or less abundance. It was also said that on\nevery Friday this young girl, ravished in ecstasy, remained for several\nhours completely unconscious of all that was passing around her. Such\nwere the principal facts. Over and above these rumor spread the story of\ncertain accessory incidents, some of which, though true, were distorted,\nwhile others were pure fancy. Thanks to the daily press, the young girl\nsoon became known to the general public, and the name of Louise Lateau\npassed from mouth to mouth. Here and there one read among \u201ccurrent\nevents\u201d that large crowds rushed from all sides, from Belgium and from\nwithout, to assist every Friday at the scenes which were being enacted in\nthe chamber at Bois d\u2019Haine. Some journals profited by the occasion to\ndeliver themselves anew of declamations against \u201cCatholic superstitions,\nthe stupidity of the masses, and the intriguing character of the clergy\u201d;\nwhile even many men of good faith were of opinion that the story told of\nLouise Lateau might indeed be true, but ought to be attributed to some\ntrickery or another of which either the girl or her family was culpable.\n\nHappily for the public, a light came to clear up this chaos of versions,\nsuppositions, and diverse and contradictory opinions. The _Revue\nCatholique_ of Louvain reproduced by instalments, beginning in 1869, a\nstudy by Prof. Lefebvre on these extraordinary events. Some time after,\nthis study appeared in the form of a volume. Here is how the eminent\nphysician expresses himself on the origin of his study:\n\n    \u201cThe story told by the first witnesses of these extraordinary\n    events produced a lively emotion in the public mind, and soon\n    crowds assembled every week around the humble house which was\n    their theatre. The ecclesiastical authorities took up the\n    facts. This was their right and duty. From the very beginning\n    they recognized that the different elements of the question\n    ought to pass through the crucible of science. The periodic\n    hemorrhage and the suspension of the exercise of the senses\n    were within the competence of physicians. I was asked to study\n    them, the desire being expressed that the examination of these\n    facts should be of the most thorough description, and that they\n    should not be allowed to escape any one of the exigencies and\n    severities of modern science.\u2026 I deemed it right, therefore,\n    to accept the mission which was offered me. As a physician, I\n    was only asked for what I could give--that is to say, a purely\n    medical study of the facts.\u201d[261]\n\nAfter having examined the events of Bois d\u2019Haine in all their phases;\nafter having put to the proof the sincerity of the young girl in a\nthousand different ways and by means of a variety of tests, the eminent\nLouvain professor pronounced the facts of the stigmatization and ecstasy\nto be real and free from deception. Passing, then, to the interpretation\nof the events themselves, the author thus concludes:\n\n    \u201cStudying first the question of hemorrhage, I have demonstrated\n    that the periodic bleedings of Louise Lateau belong to no\n    species of hemorrhage admitted in the regular range of science;\n    that they cannot be assimilated to any of the extraordinary\n    cases recorded in the annals of medicine; that, in fine, the\n    laws of physiology do not afford an explanation of their\n    genesis. Coming next to the question of ecstasy, I have\n    carefully gone over the characters of the standard nervous\n    affections which could offer certain traits of a resemblance,\n    however remote, to the ecstasy of Louise Lateau, and I believe\n    I have demonstrated that it is impossible to connect it with\n    any of the nervous affections known to-day. I have penetrated\n    the domain of occult sciences; those dark doctrines have\n    furnished us with no more data for an interpretation of the\n    events of Bois d\u2019Haine than the free sciences which expand in\n    the full light of day.\u201d\n\nI do not hesitate to say that the appearance of this book was a\nveritable event, and that it marked an important halting-place in the\nstudy of the question of Louise Lateau. By those who knew the calm and\nreflective spirit of M. Lefebvre, and the independence of his character\nand convictions, the fact of the real existence of the extraordinary\nevents taking place at Bois d\u2019Haine was no longer called in question;\nand if some doubt still remained, it regarded only the sense in which\nthose events were to be interpreted. Was it, then, true that the union of\nstigmata and ecstasies belonged to no known malady? Was it true that they\ncould find no place in the classification of diseases, under a new title,\nwith physiological proofs to accompany them?\n\nNotwithstanding the immense credit allowed to the science of M. Lefebvre,\ndoubt still hovered around this question, and I make bold to say, in the\nhonor of the progress of science, that such doubt was legitimate. A loyal\nappeal was made to the _savants_ of the country and of foreign countries,\nurging them to go and study the facts at Bois d\u2019Haine and publish their\nopinion. Soon a study on Louise Lateau, made by a French physician,[262]\ncame to confirm still further the medical study of M. Lefebvre. Then a\nGerman _savant_, M. Virchow, seemed to accept as true the conclusions of\nthe Belgian doctor by that famous phrase that the events of Bois d\u2019Haine\nmust be considered either as a trick or as a miracle.\n\nMeanwhile, certain persons seemed still reluctant to accept facts\nwhich a hundred different witnesses affirmed in the face of the world.\nAmong the reluctant are to be ranked, first of all, those who are of\nbad faith--with whom there is no reason to trouble; others who, for\nphilosophic motives, seemed to accuse the witnesses of those scenes\nof sacrificing the interest of science to that of their religious\nconvictions. Nevertheless, M. Lefebvre\u2019s book continued to make headway.\nI do not say that it did not meet with some attacks here and there, and\ncertain objections in detail; but throughout the country no publication\nof any pretension to seriousness affected either to deny the facts or to\ngive a natural explanation of them. This state of things continued up\nto July, 1874. At this epoch Dr. Charbonnier, a physician of Brussels,\npresented to the Belgian Royal Academy of Medicine a work entitled\n_Maladies et facult\u00e9s diverses des mystiques. Louise Lateau._\n\nM. Bo\u00ebns, on his part, submitted to the same learned body, in the session\nof October 3, 1874, a new production, entitled _Louise Lateau, ou les\nmyst\u00e8res de Bois d\u2019Haine d\u00e9voil\u00e9s_.\n\n\nII.\n\nThe events of Bois d\u2019Haine continued to occupy public attention.\nThe scenes of the stigmatic flows of blood and of the ecstasies were\npresented every Friday. It was even stated that from the middle of 1871\nLouise Lateau had taken no sort of nourishment. The Belgian Royal Academy\nof Medicine, whether because it dreaded to enter upon a question which\ninvolved, beyond the scientific side, a side purely philosophic, or\nwhether also because a fitting and favorable opportunity of taking up\nthe question of Louise Lateau was not presented, remained mute as to the\nevents of Bois d\u2019Haine.\n\nThe almost simultaneous presentation of two works treating on the very\nsubject indicated clearly that the question was ripe. Moreover, in the\nsession of October 3, 1874, the chief medical body of the country,\nconformably with usage, appointed a special committee to make a report on\nthe works read in its sessions. This committee consisted of MM. Fossion,\npresident; Mascart and Warlomont, colleagues.\n\nThe important report of the committee was read in the session of the 13th\nof February by M. Warlomont. That gentleman to show how the study of M.\nCharbonnier\u2019s work necessitated an examination into the affair at Bois\nd\u2019Haine, said:\n\n    \u201cOught the committee to confine itself to examining the\n    memorial placed before it from the simple point of view of\n    its absolute scientific value, without occupying itself with\n    the fact which gives occasion for the memorial? It would be\n    easier to do so, perhaps, but an opportunity would thus be\n    neglected of putting the Academy in possession of an actual\n    medical observation, as complete as possible, relative to a\n    fact of which, whether we like it or not, the discussion can no\n    longer be eluded. It assumed, therefore the task of inquiring\n    into the affair forthwith; resolved, however arduous might be\n    the mission thus undertaken, to accept it without regret, to\n    pursue it without weakness as without bias, and to set before\n    the society such elements as its investigation--one altogether\n    official--should have procured. This is the trust which, in its\n    name, I this day fulfil.\u201d[263]\n\nMM. Charbonnier and Bo\u00ebns were the first in our country who undertook to\nfind fault with the conclusions of M. Lefebvre\u2019s book, and to explain by\nscientific data the events of Bois d\u2019Haine. M. Bo\u00ebns, almost immediately\nafter the reading of a portion of his work, withdrew it, and was able\nby this means to escape the report of the committee. Was this disdain\nfor the judgment of his _confr\u00e8res_ on the part of the distinguished\nphysician of Charleroi, or was it want of confidence in the solidity of\nhis own arguments? I know not. I state a fact and continue.\n\nThere remained, then, for the committee to examine the work of M.\nCharbonnier. This memoir is voluminous. The theory of the author is\nsubstantially as follows: The absence of aliment and the concentration of\nthe faculties of the soul towards one object have been the primary and\nindispensable conditions of ecstasies and stigmata. As far as abstinence\nis concerned, it is perfectly compatible, if not with a state of health,\nat least with the maintenance of life. \u201cThe question of abstinence,\u201d says\nthe author, \u201cis the most important, because without it nothing happens.\nIt being well explained, there is no longer anything supernatural in any\nof the physiological and pathological phenomena of the mystics.\u201d[264]\n\nBut how is this abstinence compatible with life? By the law of the\nsubstitution of functions and organs.\n\n\u201cThe organs,\u201d says the author, \u201care conjointly associated (_solidaires_)\none with another, working for the common health; so that when an organ,\nfor one cause or another, cannot adequately fulfil its functions, another\nimmediately supplies its place.\u201d\n\nSupposing all this admitted, here is what the author says of\nstigmatization:\n\n    \u201cAbstinence and contemplation are the causes of stigmatization:\n    i. Abstinence, in suppressing the vegetative functions, frees\n    both the nervous influx and the blood which were distributed\n    among the digestive organs. 2. Contemplation gathers together\n    the contingent of pain dispersed through all the body, to fix\n    and concentrate it on certain points which it sees, admires,\n    loves, in Jesus Christ. It suppresses all the functions of\n    the life of relation to devote itself exclusively to the\n    object of its passion. The bloody flux, which has been drawn\n    to the surface of the skin by the great functional activity,\n    follows to the end the nervous influx which is constantly\n    directed towards certain points, and the stigmatization is\n    effected.\u201d[265]\n\nOf the ecstasy, according to M. Charbonnier, \u201cabstinence is the\nprincipal, contemplation the secondary, cause.\u201d We cannot, indeed, enter\ninto all the details furnished by the author of this strange theory. In\norder to arrive at a judgment regarding it, we know of nothing better\nthan to cite the conclusions of the reader of the report on the work\nitself:\n\n    \u201cAll this,\u201d says M. Warlomont, \u201cforms a whole which must have\n    cost the author long and laborious research. As far as the\n    inquiries of physiology are concerned, the source, respectable\n    though it may be, on which he has relied, must be a cause for\n    regret. His principal, almost his only, authority is that of\n    Longet, who is now many years dead. But the questions relative\n    to nutrition--those precisely which are at stake--have, since\n    Longet, been placed in an absolutely new light. The work which\n    we have just analyzed is altogether a work of the imagination.\n    The demonstration of the _\u00e0 priori_ thesis which the author\n    has set up he has pursued by every means, clearing out of\n    his road the obstacles of nature which embarrass it, and\n    creating at will new functions whereon to apply his organs;\n    all this written in a lively, imaginative style, and bearing\n    the impress of conviction. There is only one thing which is\n    sadly wanting--experimental proof. A few simple experiments on\n    animals, logically carried out, would have informed him how\n    they withstand a progressive abstinence, and what changes this\n    abstinence effects in their organs and functions. It is to be\n    regretted that he has not instituted these experiments.\u201d[266]\n\nIf the theory advanced by M. Charbonnier, based on such doubtful\nphysiological facts, finds no weight with the learned representative\nof the Academy of Medicine, it is not because he himself admits the\nconclusions arrived at in the study of M. Lefebvre on Louise Lateau.\nFor him, indeed, the events taking place at Bois d\u2019Haine, apart from\nthe question of fasting, which has not been positively established, and\nwhich, on that account, rightly passes beyond scientific discussion,[267]\nare exempt from all fraud and deception. But let M. Warlomont himself\nspeak:\n\n    \u201cAfter having analyzed,\u201d he says, \u201cthe memoir which the\n    Academy has confided to our examination, and having refuted it\n    principally in the portions which concern Louise Lateau, it\n    remains for us in our turn to give our own ideas relative to\n    a fact of such interest which has formed the subject of the\n    memoir.\n\n    \u201cAnd first of all, are the facts cited real? According to\n    our thinking, the simulation of the ecstasies is simply\n    impossible, accompanied as they are by functional troubles the\n    provocation for which would pass quite beyond the empire of the\n    will. As for the actual spontaneity of the stigmata, we have\n    demonstrated this experimentally.\u201d\n\nAnd now for the chief part of the report. It is that in which the learned\nacademician attempts to give a physiological explanation of the facts.\nFor him ecstasies are a species of double life, of a second condition,\nsuch as may be presented in ordinary and extraordinary nervous states, as\nwell as in others: (_a_) in consequence of material injury to the brain;\n(_b_) during the existence of well-determined neurotic disorders; (_c_)\nunder the influence of certain special appliances (magnetism, hypnotism);\n(_d_) spontaneously, without the intervention of any external provocation\n(as somnambulism or extraordinary neurotic affections).\n\nAfter having examined each of these points in detail, the author thus\ncontinues:\n\n    \u201cThis point established, what of ecstasies? Well, whatever\n    we may do, it is impossible for us not to class them in the\n    same order of facts, not to see in them the influence of a\n    neurotic perturbation analogous to that which controls neurotic\n    diseases. It is in both cases the passage of a human being into\n    a state of second condition, characterized by the suspension,\n    more or less complete, of the exercise of the senses, with a\n    special concentration of all the cerebral powers towards a\n    limited object. Among the ecstatics, as among the hypnotics,\n    there prevails a perturbation, diminution, or abolition of\n    external sensibility. All is concentrated in a new cerebral\n    functional department.\u201d\n\nSo far for the ecstasies. Passing next to the production of stigmata,\nthe report admits in principle the theory of Alfred Maury. That is to\nsay, the imagination plays the principal _r\u00f4le_ in the production of\nthese phenomena. But to meet the brilliant member of the Institute, he\ncalls to his aid the physiological laws and most recent discoveries,\nin order to show how the imagination can, by the irritation of certain\ngiven parts, provoke a veritable congestion of those parts, and then a\nhemorrhage.\n\n    \u201cIn virtue of what mechanism,\u201d he asks, \u201care blisters first\n    produced, and bleeding afterwards? We have established the\n    genesis of stigmatic angiomata.[268] The attention has given\n    place to pain, and pain to repeated touchings; from this\n    proceeds the congestion which has brought on the arrest of\n    the blood in the capillaries, and, as a consequence, their\n    enlargement. Then comes the rush of blood, giving place to\n    congestive motions, determined by a hemorrhagic diathesis, and\n    the phenomena disclose themselves in all their simplicity;\n    the leucocytes[269] will pass across the capillaries, will\n    discharge themselves under the skin, and the blister is the\n    result. The accumulation of blood continuing in proportion to\n    the enlargement of the capillaries, the fleshly tegument will\n    end by bursting; then the blood itself, whether by traversing\n    the channels created by the previous passage of the leucocytes,\n    or by the rupture of the vessels, the likelihood of which can\n    be sustained, ends by an external eruption, and the hemorrhage\n    follows.\u201d\n\nBut M. Warlomont goes still farther. He says that not only are stigmata\nand ecstasies capable of explanation when taken apart from one another,\nbut that by their union they constitute what in pathology is called\naggregate of symptoms. According to this, stigmata and ecstasies would\nconstitute an altogether unique morbid state, to which the professor\ngives the following name and definition: \u201cStigmatic neuropathy is a\nnervous disease, having its seat in the base of the _medulla oblongata_,\nthe first stage of which consists in the paralysis of the vaso-motor\ncentre, and the second in its excitation.\u201d Presented in this way, the\nreport of the distinguished member of the Academy was not only a report,\nbut a veritable original work. Thus this book, wherein the author had\njoined loyalty of procedure to elegance of style and deep erudition,\nproduced a profound sensation. The theory which he advances might\nwell leave certain doubts with the reader relative to the solidity of\nthe bases on which it leans, but by its method it exercised a real\nfascination on the mind. M. Warlomont\u2019s conclusions were, as far as the\ninterpretation of the facts went, diametrically opposed to those of the\nbook which M. Lefebvre had published several years before, and it was not\nwithout a very great curiosity that the public awaited the reply of the\nlatter.\n\nThe reply was not long in coming. M. Lefebvre\u2019s discourse occupied, so\nto say, exclusively the sessions of May 29 and June 26. After having\nrendered due homage to the courtesy and science of the distinguished\nreader of the report, the Louvain professor hesitated not to sustain the\nfirst conclusions advanced in his book, and to demonstrate the small\nfoundation of the theory of his adversary on this question. It is to be\nregretted that the limits at my disposal do not allow me to enter into\nall the physiological details and pathological considerations on which\nM. Lefebvre builds his conclusions. I regret it the more because the\nbrilliant words of the orator exercise a very special impression by the\nclearness of their exposition, the logic of their reasoning, and the\nexquisite charm which they give to even the driest questions.\n\nFirst, as to the stigmatic hemorrhages, we cannot be astonished, after\nhaving followed the proofs which the learned orator gives us, to find him\nlay down the following conclusions:\n\n    \u201c1. M. Warlomont is driven to admit a single vaso-motor centre;\n    the most recent researches are against this localization: the\n    vaso-motor centres are several and disseminated.\n\n    \u201c2. The distinguished reader of the report constructs his\n    doctrine of the action of the imagination on a series of\n    hypotheses.\n\n    \u201cThe two chief ones are: that the imagination has the power,\n    every Friday morning, of completely paralyzing the vaso-motor\n    centre and the vaso-constrictor nerves; and after midday,\n    by a contradictory action, to excite violently this centre,\n    and consequently to close up the vaso-constrictors--pure\n    suppositions which have not only not been demonstrated by the\n    author, but which seem to me absolutely anti-physiological.\n\n    \u201c3. Even admitting these hypotheses as well founded, it is an\n    established fact that the complete paralysis of the vaso-motor\n    centres and of the vaso-constrictor nerves is never followed\n    by bleeding on the surface of the skin; the experience of all\n    physiologists agrees on this point.\n\n    \u201c4. This experience proves, on the contrary, that in such cases\n    there are sometimes produced suffusions of blood in the mucous\n    membranes; such suffusions never show themselves in Louise\n    Lateau.\n\n    \u201c5. A series of hypotheses still more complicated than those\n    laid down as premises by the distinguished reader of the report\n    might be conceded--to wit, the paralysis of the arteries and\n    the simultaneous constriction of the veins. Experiment again\n    proves that even under these conditions bleeding on the surface\n    of the skin is not produced.\n\n    \u201c6. M. Warlomont, in parting from the hypotheses which I\n    have just combated, admits that the bleeding produced by the\n    influence of the imagination is a bleeding by transudation.\n    But the characteristics of transudation, studied in the light\n    of modern physiology, are completely opposed to those of the\n    stigmatic bleeding of Louise Lateau.\n\n    \u201c7. Finally--and this argument alone will suffice to overthrow\n    the thesis of the distinguished reader of the report--clinical\n    observation, in accordance with physiological induction, proves\n    that in circumstances where the imagination exercises its\n    greatest violence it never produces bleeding on the surface of\n    the skin.\u201d\n\nRegarding ecstasies, the orator, after having examined the different\nstates with which the reader of the report to the Academy compared the\necstasies of Louise Lateau, concludes by saying:\n\n    \u201cI believe I have demonstrated that the analysis of second\n    conditions, brought out with so much skill by the distinguished\n    gentleman, does not give the key to the ecstasy of Louise\n    Lateau. But, setting aside these states of nervous disease,\n    should not the imagination be made to bear all the burden of\n    the ecstasy, as it does of the stigmatization?\u201d\n\nAfter examining this question, the orator concludes in the negative. In\nfinishing his beautiful discourse he says:\n\n    \u201cOur honorable colleague, in studying the causes of the\n    stigmatization and ecstasy, has given to them a physiological\n    interpretation. On this ground I have separated from him, and\n    I believe I have demonstrated that that interpretation is not\n    only insufficient, but also erroneous. I believed for a moment\n    that M. Warlomont was about to offer an acceptable scientific\n    theory. I do not say a theory complete and adequate--I am\n    not so exacting; I know too well that we do not know the all\n    of anything. If our eminent colleague had proposed to us a\n    physiological interpretation, satisfying the most moderate\n    demands of science, I should have accepted it, not with\n    resignation, but with joy and eagerness; and believe me,\n    gentlemen, my religious convictions would have suffered no\n    shock thereby.\n\n    \u201cOur learned colleague, whom you have charged with examining\n    the events of Bois d\u2019Haine, has not, then, in my opinion,\n    given to them their physiological interpretation. Other\n    physicians have attempted the same task; I name two of them,\n    because their works have been produced within these walls.\n\n    \u201cFirst of all, Dr. Bo\u00ebns. In withdrawing his memoir from the\n    order of the day of the Academy, he has withdrawn it from\n    our discussion. Nevertheless, I believe I am not severe in\n    affirming that the considerations which claimed his attention,\n    and the irony of which he has been so prodigal in my own\n    regard, have thrown but little light on the events of Bois\n    d\u2019Haine. Dr. Charbonnier has submitted to your appreciation a\n    work of a more scientific character. M. Warlomont has examined\n    it with the attention which it deserves, and has refuted it. I\n    am thus dispensed from returning to it.\n\n    \u201cI maintain, then, purely and simply, the conclusions of my\n    study: The stigmatization and the ecstasies of Louise Lateau\n    are real and true facts, and science has not furnished their\n    physiological interpretation.\u201d\n\nM. Crocq spoke after M. Lefebvre. Like M. Warlomont, the learned Brussels\nprofessor believes that the interpretation of the facts positively\nestablished about Louise Lateau belongs to pathological physiology. The\ntheory of M. Crocq differs but little from that of M. Warlomont. He\nattaches more importance to abstinence than the learned reader of the\nreport, and thus comes nearer to M. Charbonnier; he believes, also, that\nthe bleeding is altogether caused by a rupture of the capillaries. Apart\nfrom these small distinctions, it may be said of him, as of M. Warlomont,\nthat he is of opinion that the imagination, by its influence on the\nnervous system, is the principal cause of the ecstasies and stigmata.\nHere are the rest of his conclusions:\n\n    \u201cI. The state of Louise Lateau is a complex pathological state,\n    characterized by the following facts:\n\n    \u201c1. An\u00e6mia and weakness of constitution, arising from\n    privations endured since childhood.\n\n    \u201c2. Nervous exaltation produced by an\u00e6mia and directed in a\n    determined sense by the education and religious tendencies of\n    Louise.\n\n    \u201c3. Ecstasies constituting the supreme degree of this\n    exaltation.\n\n    \u201c4. Bleeding, having for its starting point an\u00e6mia and\n    exaltation of the vaso-motor nervous system.\n\n    \u201c5. Relative abstinence, considerably exaggerated by the sick\n    girl, conformably to what is observed among many persons who\n    suffer from nervous disorders.\n\n    \u201cII. This state offers nothing contrary to the laws of\n    pathological physiology; it is consequently useless to go\n    outside of that in search of explanation.\n\n    \u201cIII. It has the same characteristics as all the analogous\n    cases related by physicians and historians; mysticism\n    altogether, save cases of jugglery and mystification, ought to\n    enter into the province of pathology, which is vast enough to\n    contain it; and all the phenomena explain themselves perfectly\n    by taking as starting point the principles which I have laid\n    down.\u201d\n\nIf we had to advance our own opinion on this important question, we\nshould say that, after the report in which M. Warlomont had treated his\nsubject with so much method and science, there remained few new arguments\nwhich could be applied to the physiological theory of the phenomena of\nmystics. It should be considered, however, no small advantage for the\nlatter physician to feel himself supported by M. Crocq, who had brought\nto the debates the weight of his profound erudition and vast experience.\n\n\nIII.\n\nBy all impartial judges the case might be regarded as understood. It\nwas so in effect. The different orators who succeeded each other in the\ntribune of the Academy had brought to their respective discourses the\nstrongest possible array of facts and of arguments. I shall astonish no\none, then, by saying that M. Warlomont could not allow the victorious\ndiscourse of his colleague of Louvain to pass without some observations.\nIt is impossible for us here to give a _r\u00e9sum\u00e9_ of his discourse. In the\nmain it added no new proof to the substance of the debate, and confined\nitself to the criticism of certain details.\n\nIt is enough for us to say that in this discourse the learned reader of\nthe report to the Academy gave new proof of the brilliancy of his mind\nand the adroitness of his gifts.\n\nM. Lefebvre, on his side, felt himself to be too much master of the\nsituation to need emphasizing his triumph any further. This is what he\ndid in the session of October 9, 1875. Without precisely entering into\nthe heart of the debate, he brought out more strongly certain of the\narguments which he had already used; he employed them to refute some of\nthe assertions made in the discourses of his adversaries, held up certain\ninaccuracies, and concluded, as he had the right to do, by the following\nwords, which give an exact idea of the state of the question:\n\n    \u201cLet us resume. M. Warlomont has studied with earnestness and\n    candor the events of Bois d\u2019Haine. He has stated, as I have\n    done, the reality of the stigmatization and ecstasy; he has\n    demonstrated, as I have, that these phenomena are free from any\n    deception. M. Crocq, after having examined the facts on the\n    spot, has arrived at the same conclusions. The learned reader\n    of the committee\u2019s report has built up a scientific theory of\n    the stigmatization and ecstasy; the eminent Brussels professor\n    has, in his turn, formulated an interpretation very nearly\n    approaching to that of M. Warlomont, but which differs from it,\n    nevertheless, on certain points. I have sought, on my side, a\n    physiological explanation of these extraordinary facts, and\n    I have arrived at the conclusion that science could furnish\n    no satisfactory interpretation of them. I have expounded at\n    length before the Academy the reasons which prevent me from\n    accepting the theories of my two honorable opponents; but my\n    position is perfectly correct. I confine myself to recognizing\n    my powerlessness to interpret the facts of Bois d\u2019Haine. M.\n    Warlomont takes another attitude. He pretends that we have a\n    scientific explanation of these phenomena. We have not one--we\n    have had three or four; which is the true one? Is it that of M.\n    Bo\u00ebns? Is it that of M. Charbonnier, to which, beyond doubt,\n    you attach some importance, since you have voted that it be\n    printed? Is it that of the learned reader of your report? Begin\n    by choosing. As for me, I hold fast to my first conclusions:\n    The facts of Bois d\u2019Haine have not received a scientific\n    interpretation.\u201d\n\nAfter certain remarks made at the same session by MM. Vleminckx, Crocq,\nLefebvre, Masoin, Bo\u00ebns, the general discussion closed. The printing\nof M. Charbonnier\u2019s memoir was decided on and a vote of thanks to the\nauthor passed. With this should have ended the task of the Academy; and\nthose who had hoped for a physiological interpretation of the facts of\nBois d\u2019Haine, as the outcome of these discussions, were in a position\nto felicitate themselves on the result; for by its absolute silence the\nAcademy allowed a certain freedom of choice.\n\nBut during the session of July 10, 1875, which a family affliction\nprevented M. Lefebvre from assisting at, two members proposed orders of\nthe day on the discussion of Bois d\u2019Haine. Nevertheless, by a very proper\nsentiment, which the distinguished president, M. Vleminckx, was the first\nto advance, those orders of the day were not carried at that date.\n\nThat of M. Kuborn was thus conceived:\n\n    \u201cThe Academy, considering--\n\n    \u201cThat the phenomena really established about the young girl\n    of Bois d\u2019Haine are not new and are explicable by the laws of\n    pathological physiology;\n\n    \u201cThat the prolonged abstinence which has been argued about has\n    not been observed by the committee;\n\n    \u201cThat no supervision, therefore, having been established, and\n    there having been no chance of establishing it, the proper\n    thing was not to pause on the consideration of this fact, but\n    to consider it as not having come up--\n\n    \u201cThe Academy follows its order of the day as far as concerns\n    the question of the stigmatization and exstasy.\u201d\n\nHere is the order of the day proposed by M. Crocq:\n\n    \u201cThe Academy, considering--\n\n    \u201cThat the phenomena established about Louise Lateau are not\n    beyond a physiological explanation;\n\n    \u201cThat those which are not established ought no longer to occupy\n    our attention--\n\n    \u201cDeclares the discussion closed, and passes to the order of the\n    day.\u201d\n\nThe same resolutions, the small foundation for which, after the\ndiscourses which had been made, every impartial mind ought to recognize,\nwere again brought up in the session of October 9.\n\nM. Vleminckx, having induced the authors of the orders of the day to\nmodify their wording in such a manner as to render them acceptable, M.\nFossion proposed the following form, more soothing than its predecessors:\n\n    \u201cThe Royal Academy of Medicine declares that the case of Louise\n    Lateau has not been completely scrutinized and cannot serve\n    as a base for serious discussion; consequently, it closes the\n    discussion.\u201d\n\nM. Laussedat, after some preliminary remarks, finally proposed the order\nof the day pure and simple, which was adopted.\n\nThe bearing of this vote will escape the mind of no one. In setting aside\nthe orders of the day which pretended that what had been positively\nestablished in the question of Bois d\u2019Haine might be solved by science,\nthe Academy has fully confirmed the conclusions of M. Lefebvre\u2019s book.\n\nMeanwhile, in ending, let us return to Bois d\u2019Haine, to that young girl\nwho has become more than ever the object of the veneration of some, the\nstudy of others, and the wonder of all.\n\nSince 1868 Louise Lateau presents the phenomena weekly of the bloody\nstigmata and the ecstasies, to which later on was added abstinence from\nfood.\n\nHer first and chief historian, M. Lefebvre, after having watched the\nyoung girl, affirms since 1869: She, whom a certain portion of the public\nconsiders as a cheat or an invalid, really presents the phenomena which\nare reported of her. These phenomena are exempt from trickery, and it is\nimpossible to explain them by the laws of physiology and pathology. We\nomit the question of fasting, which remains to be studied.\n\nSeven years after the appearance of the first phenomena, at the time when\nthe commotion which they produced had, so to say, reached its height, the\nleading learned body in Belgium examined the mysterious scenes in the\nhumble house of Bois d\u2019Haine, and, through MM. Crocq and Warlomont, made\nan inquiry into the reality and sincerity of the facts, and brings in a\nverdict that the facts are real and free from all fraud.\n\nFinally, this same Belgian Royal Academy of Medicine, by its vote,\navows in the face of the world that, if it ought not to recognize a\nsupernatural cause in the facts about Louise Lateau, as little can it\ndemonstrate their natural origin and physiological genesis.\n\nSuch is the actual state of this extraordinary question.\n\n\nST. JEAN DE LUZ.\n\n    \u201cIl s\u2019imagine voir, avec Louis le Grand,\n    Philip Quatre qui s\u2019avance\n    Dans l\u2019Ile de la Conf\u00e9rence.\u201d\n\n                                 --_La Fontaine._\n\nFew towns are set in so lovely a frame as St. Jean de Luz, with its\nincomparable variety of sea, mountain, river, and plain. In front is the\ndark blue bay opening into the boundless sea. On the north are the cliffs\nof Sainte Barbe. At the south are the Gothic donjon and massive jetty of\nSocoa, behind which rises gradually a chain of mountains, one above the\nother, from wooded or vine-covered hills, dotted here and there with the\nred-and-white houses of the Basque peasantry and the summer residences\nof the wealthy merchants of St. Jean de Luz, till we come to the outer\nramparts of La Rhune with its granite cliffs and sharp peaks, the Trois\nCouronnes with their jagged outline, and still farther on a long, blue\nline of mountains fading away into the azure sea. It is from La Rhune\nyou can best take in all the features of the country. To go to it you\nuse one of the modest barks that have replaced the sumptuous galleys of\nLouis Quatorze, and ascend to Ascain, a pretty hamlet, from which the\nsummit of La Rhune is reached in two hours. It is not one of the highest\nin the Pyrenean chain, being only three thousand feet above the sea, but\nit is an isolated peak, and affords a diversified view of vast extent. To\nthe north are the green valleys of Labourd, with the steeples of thirty\nparishes around; Bayonne, with the towers of its noble cathedral; and\nthe vast pine forests of the mysterious Landes. To the west is the coast\nof Spain washed by the ocean. East and south are the mountains of B\u00e9arn\nand Navarre, showing peak after peak, like a sea suddenly petrified in a\nstorm.\n\nSuch is the magnificent frame in which is set the historic town of St.\nJean de Luz. It is built on a tongue of land washed by the encroaching\nsea on one hand and the river Nivelle on the other. The situation is\npicturesque, the sky brilliant, the climate mild. It seems to need\nnothing to make it attractive. The very aspect of decay lends it an\nadditional charm which renewed prosperity would destroy. The houses run\nin long lines parallel with the two shores, looking, when the tide is\nhigh, like so many ships at anchor. At the sight of this floating town\nwe are not surprised at its past commercial importance, or that its\ninhabitants are navigators _par excellence_. Its sailors were the first\nto explore the unknown seas of the west, and to fish for the cod and\nwhale among the icebergs of the arctic zone. In the first half of the\nXVIIth century thirty ships, each manned by thirty-five or forty sailors,\nleft St. Jean de Luz for the cod-fisheries of Newfoundland, and as many\nfor Spitzbergen in search of whales. The oaks of La Rhune were cut down\nfor vessels. The town was wealthy and full of activity. Those were\nthe best days of ancient Lohitzun. But though once so renowned for its\nfleets, it has fallen from the rank it then occupied. Ruined by wars, and\ngreatly depopulated by the current of events, its houses have decayed\none after another, or totally disappeared before the encroachments of\nthe sea. Reduced to a few quiet streets, it is the mere shadow of what\nit once was. Instead of hundreds of vessels, only a fishing-smack or two\nenliven its harbor. And yet there is a certain air of grandeur about\nthe place which bespeaks its past importance, and several houses which\nharmonize with its historic memories. For St. Jean de Luz was not only a\nplace of commercial importance, but was visited by several of the kings\nof France, and is associated with some of the most important events of\ntheir reigns. Louis XI. came here when mediating between the kings of\nAragon and Castile. The ch\u00e2teau of Urtubi, which he occupied, is some\ndistance beyond. Its fine park, watered by a beautiful stream, and the\npicturesque environs, make it an attractive residence quite worthy of\nroyalty. The ivy-covered wall on the north side is a part of the old\nmanor-house of the XIIth century; the remainder is of the XVIIth. The\ntwo towers have a feudal aspect, but are totally innocent of feudal\ndomination; for the Basque lords, even of the middle ages, never had\nany other public power than was temporarily conferred on them by their\nnational assemblies.\n\nIt was at St. Jean de Luz that Francis I., enthusiastically welcomed\nby the people after his deliverance from captivity in Spain, joyfully\nexclaimed: \u201c_Je suis encore roi de France_--I am still King of France!\u201d\nIt likewise witnessed the exchange of the beautiful Elizabeth of France\nand Anne of Austria--one given in marriage to Louis XIII. and the other\nto Philip of Spain amid the acclamations of the people.\n\nCardinal Mazarin also visited St. Jean de Luz in 1659 to confer with\nthe astute Don Luis de Haro, prime minister of Philip IV., about the\ninterests of France and Spain. The house he inhabited beside the sea\nstill has his cipher on the walls, as it has also the old Gobelin\ntapestry with which his apartments were hung. He was accompanied by\none hundred and fifty gentlemen, some of whom were the greatest lords\nin France. With them were as many attendants, a guard of one hundred\nhorsemen and three hundred foot-soldiers, twenty-four mules covered with\nrich housings, seven carriages for his personal use, and several horses\nto ride. He remained here four months. His interviews with the Spanish\nminister took place on the little island in the Bidassoa known ever since\nas the Isle of Conference, which was never heard of till the treaty of\nthe Pyrenees. All national interviews and exchanges of princesses had\npreviously taken place in the middle of the river by means of _gabares_,\nor a bridge of boats.\n\nIt was this now famous isle which Bossuet apostrophized in his _oraison\nfun\u00e8bre_ at the burial of Queen Marie Th\u00e9r\u00e8se:\n\n\u201cPacific isle, in which terminated the differences of the two great\nempires of which you were the limit; in which were displayed all the\nskill and diplomacy of different national policies; in which one\nstatesman secured preponderance by his deliberation, and the other\nascendency by means of his penetration! Memorable day, in which two\nproud nations, so long at enmity, but now reconciled by Marie Th\u00e9r\u00e8se,\nadvanced to their borders with their kings at their head, not to engage\nin battle, but for a friendly embrace; in which two sovereigns with their\ncourts, each with its peculiar grandeur and magnificence, as well as\netiquette and manners, presented to each other and to the whole universe\nso august a spectacle--how can I now mingle your pageants with these\nfuneral solemnities, or dwell on the height of all human grandeur in\nsight of its end?\u201d\n\nThe marriage of Louis XIV. with the Spanish Infanta, to which the great\norator refers, is still the most glorious remembrance of St. Jean de\nLuz. The visits of Louis XI., Francis I., and Charles IX. have left but\nfew traces in the town compared with that of the _Grand Monarque_. The\nmajestic presence of the young king surrounded by his gay, magnificent\nfollowing, here brought in contrast with the dignity, gloom, and splendor\nof the Spanish court, impressed the imagination of the people, who have\nnever forgotten so glorious a memory.\n\nLouis XIV. arrived at St. Jean de Luz May 8, 1660, accompanied by Anne of\nAustria, Cardinal Mazarin, and a vast number of lords and ladies, among\nwhom was the _Grande Mademoiselle_. They were enthusiastically welcomed\nby the ringing of bells, firing of cannon, and shouts of joy. Garlands of\nflowers arched the highway, the pavement was strewn with green leaves,\nand Cantabrian dances were performed around the cort\u00e9ge. At the door of\nthe parish church stood the clergy in full canonicals, with the _cur\u00e9_\nat their head to bless the king as he went past. He resided, while\nthere, in the ch\u00e2teau of Lohobiague, the fine towers of which are still\nto be seen on the banks of the Nivelle. It is now known as the House of\nLouis XIV. Here he was entertained by the widowed _ch\u00e2telaine_ with the\nsumptuous hospitality for which the family was noted. A light gallery was\nput up to connect the ch\u00e2teau with that of Joanocnia, in which lodged\nAnne of Austria and the Spanish Infanta. Here took place the first\ninterview between the king and his bride, described by Mme. de Motteville\nin her piquant manner. From the gallery the Infanta, after her marriage,\ntook pleasure in throwing handfuls of silver coin to the people, called\n_pi\u00e8ces de largesses_, struck by the town expressly for the occasion,\nwith the heads of the royal pair on one side and on the other St. Jean de\nLuz in a shower of gold, with the motto: _Non l\u00e6tior alter_.\n\nThe ch\u00e2teau of Joanocnia, frequently called since that time the ch\u00e2teau\nof the Infanta, was built by Joannot de Haraneder, a merchant of the\nplace, who was ennobled for his liberality when the island of Rh\u00e9 was\nbesieged by the English in 1627, and about to surrender to the Duke\nof Buckingham for want of supplies and reinforcements. The Comte de\nGrammont, governor of Bayonne, being ordered by Richelieu to organize an\nexpedition at once for the relief of the besieged, issued a command for\nevery port to furnish its contingent. St. Jean de Luz eagerly responded\nby sending a large flotilla, and Joannot de Haraneder voluntarily gave\nthe king two vessels, supplied with artillery, worthy of figuring in the\nroyal navy. For this and subsequent services he was ennobled. His arms\nare graven in marble over the principal fire-place of the ch\u00e2teau--a\nplum-tree on an anchor, with the motto:\n\n    \u201cDans l\u2019ancre le beau prunier\n    Est rendu un fort riche fructier.\u201d\n\nThis ch\u00e2teau, though somewhat devoid of symmetry, has a certain beauty\nand originality of its own, with its alternate rows of brick and\ncream-colored stone, after the Basque fashion, its Renaissance portico\nbetween two square towers facing the harbor, and the light arches of the\ntwo-story gallery in the Venetian style. Over the principal entrance is a\nmarble tablet with the following inscription in letters of gold:\n\n    \u201cL\u2019Infante je re\u00e7us l\u2019an mil six cent soixante.\n    On m\u2019appelle depuis le chasteau de l\u2019Infante.\u201d\n\nThe letter L and the _fleur-de-lis_ are to be seen as we ascend the grand\nstaircase, and two paintings by G\u00e9r\u00f4me after the style of the XVIIth\ncentury, recalling the alliance of France and Spain and the well-known\n_mot_ of Louis XIV.:\n\n    \u201cIl n\u2019y a plus de Pyr\u00e9n\u00e9es!\u201d\n\nAll the details of the residence of the royal family here, as related\nby Mme. de Motteville and Mlle. de Montpensier, are full of curious\ninterest. The former describes the beautiful Isle of Conference and the\nsuperb pavilion for the reunion of the two courts, with two galleries\nleading towards France and Spain. This building was erected by the\npainter Velasquez, who, as _aposentador mayor_, accompanied Philip IV.\nto the frontier. This fatiguing voyage had an unfavorable effect on the\nalready declining health of the great painter, and he died a few weeks\nafter his return.\n\nDuring the preliminary arrangements for the marriage Louis led a solemn,\nuniform life. Like the queen-mother, who was always present at Mass,\nVespers, and Benediction, he daily attended public services, sometimes\nat the Recollects\u2019 and sometimes at the parish church. He always dined\nin public at the ch\u00e2teau of Lohobiague, surrounded by crowds eager to\nwitness the process of royal mastication. In the afternoon there were\nperformances by comedians who had followed the court from Paris; and\nsometimes Spanish mysteries, to which Queen Anne was partial, were\nrepresented, in which the actors were dressed as hermits and nuns, and\nsacred events were depicted, to the downright scandal of the great\nmademoiselle. The day ended with a ball, in which the king did not\ndisdain to display the superior graces of his royal person in a _ballet\ncompliqu\u00e9_. Everything, in short, was quite in the style of the _Grand\nCyrus_ itself.\n\nThe marriage, which had taken place at Fontarabia by procuration, was\npersonally solemnized in the parish church of St. Jean de Luz by the\nBishop of Bayonne in the presence of an attentive crowd. The door by\nwhich the royal couple entered was afterwards walled up, that it might\nnever serve for any one else--a not uncommon mark of respect in those\ndays. A joiner\u2019s shop now stands against this Porta Regia. The king\npresented the church on this occasion with a complete set of sacred\nvessels and ecclesiastical vestments.\n\nThe church in which Louis XIV. was married is exteriorly a noble building\nwith an octagonal tower, but of no architectural merit within. There are\nno side aisles, but around the nave are ranges of galleries peculiar\nto the Basque churches, where the separation of the men from the\nwomen is still rigorously maintained. The only piece of sculpture is a\nstrange _Piet\u00e0_ in which the Virgin, veiled in a large cope, holds the\ndead Christ on her knees. A rather diminutive angel, in a flowing robe\nwith pointed sleeves of the time of Charles VII., bears a scroll the\ninscription of which has become illegible.\n\nBehind the organ, in the obscurity of the lower gallery of the church,\nhangs a dark wooden frame--short but broad--with white corners, which\ncontains a curious painting of the XVIIth century representing Christ\nbefore Pilate. It is by no means remarkable as a work of art; for it is\ndeficient in perspective, there is no grace in the drapery, no special\nexcellence of coloring. The figures are generally drawn with correctness,\nbut the faces seem rather taken from pictures than from real life. But\nhowever poor the execution, this painting merits attention on account of\nits dramatic character. The composition represents twenty-six persons.\nAt the left is Pontius Pilate, governor of Judea, seated in a large\narm-chair beneath a canopy, pointing with his left hand towards the\nSaviour before him. In his right hand he holds a kind of sceptre; his\nbeard is trimmed in the style of Henri Quatre; he wears a large mantle\nlined with ermine, and on his head a _toque_, such as the old presidents\nof parliament used to wear in France.\n\nBelow Pilate is the clerk recording the votes in a large register, and\nbefore him is the urn in which they are deposited.\n\nIn front of the clerk, but separated from him by a long white scroll on\nwhich is inscribed the sentence pronounced by Pilate, is seated our\nSaviour, his loins girded with a strip of scarlet cloth, his bowed head\nencircled by luminous rays, his attitude expressive of humility and\nsubmission, his bound hands extended on his knees.\n\nIn the centre of the canvas, above this group, is the high-priest\nCaiaphas standing under an arch, his head thrown back, and his hands\nextended in an imposing attitude. He wears a cap something like a mitre,\na kind of stole is crossed on his breast, his long robe is adorned with\nthree flounces of lace. His face is that of a young man. The slight black\nmustache he wears is turned up in a way that gives him a resemblance to\nLouis XIII. It is evidently a portrait of that age.\n\nAt the side of Pilate, and behind Christ, are ranged the members of the\nJewish Sanhedrim, standing or sitting, in various postures, with white\nscrolls in their hands, which they hold like screens, bearing their names\nand the expression of their sentiments respecting the divine Victim.\nTheir dress is black or white, but varied in form. Most of them wear a\n_mosette_, or ermine cape, and the collar of some order of knighthood, as\nof S. Michael and the S. Esprit. They are all young, have mustaches, and\nlook as if they belonged to the time of Louis Treize. On their heads are\nturbans, or _toques_.\n\nThrough the open window, at the end of the pretorium, may be seen the\nmob, armed with spears, and expressing its sentiments by means of a\nscroll at the side of the window: \u201cIf thou let this man go, thou art not\nC\u00e6sar\u2019s friend. Crucify him! crucify him! His blood be on us and on our\nchildren.\u201d\n\nThe chief interest of the picture centres in these inscriptions, which\nare in queer old French of marvellous orthography. At the bottom of the\npainting, to the left, is the following:\n\n    \u201cSentence, or decree, of the sanguinary Jews against Jesus\n    Christ, the Saviour of the world.\u201d\n\nOver Pilate we read:\n\n    \u201cPONTIUS PILATE JUDEX.\u201d\n\nThe sentiments of the high-priests and elders, whose names we give in the\noriginal, are thus expressed:\n\n    \u201c1. SIMON LEPROS. For what cause or reason is he held for\n    mutiny or sedition?\n\n    \u201c2. RABAN. Wherefore are laws made, I pray, unless to be kept\n    and executed?\n\n    \u201c3. ACHIAS. No one should be condemned to death whose cause is\n    not known and weighed.\n\n    \u201c4. SABATH. There is no law or right by which one not proved\n    guilty is condemned; wherefore we would know in what way this\n    man hath offended.\n\n    \u201c5. ROSMOPHIN. For what doth the law serve, if not executed?\n\n    \u201c6. PUT\u00c9PHARES. A stirrer-up of the people is a scourge to the\n    land; therefore he should be banished.\n\n    \u201c7. RIPHAR. The penalty of the law is prescribed only for\n    malefactors who should be made to confess their misdeeds and\n    then be condemned.\n\n    \u201c8. JOSEPH D\u2019ARAMATHEA. Truly, it is a shameful thing, and\n    detestable, there be no one in this city who seeks to defend\n    the innocent.\n\n    \u201c9. JORAM. How can we condemn him to death who is just?\n\n    \u201c10. EHIERIS. Though he be just, yet shall he die, because by\n    his preaching he hath stirred up and excited the people to\n    sedition.\n\n    \u201c11. NICODEMUS. Our law condemns and sentences to death no man\n    for an unknown cause.\n\n    \u201c12. DIARABIAS. He hath perverted the people; therefore is he\n    guilty and worthy of death.\n\n    \u201c13. SAREAS. This seditious man should be banished as one born\n    for the destruction of the land.\n\n    \u201c14. RABINTH. Whether he be just or not, inasmuch as he will\n    neither obey nor submit to the precepts of our forefathers, he\n    should not be tolerated in the land.\n\n    \u201c15. JOSAPHAT. Let him be bound with chains and be perpetually\n    imprisoned.\n\n    \u201c16. PTOLOM\u00c9E. Though it be not clear whether he is just or\n    unjust, why do we hesitate: why not at once condemn him to\n    death or banish him?\n\n    \u201c17. TERAS. It is right he should be banished or sent to the\n    emperor.\n\n    \u201c18. MESA. If he is a just man, why do we not yield to his\n    teachings: if wicked, why not send him away?\n\n    \u201c19. SAMECH. Let us weigh the case, so he have no cause to\n    contradict us. Whatever he does, let us chastise him.\n\n    \u201c20. CA\u00cfPHAS PONTIFEX. Ye know not well what ye would have. It\n    is expedient for us that one man should die for the people, and\n    that the whole nation perish not.\n\n    \u201c21. THE PEOPLE TO PILATE. If thou let this man go, thou art\n    not the friend of C\u00e6sar. Crucify him! crucify him! His blood be\n    on us and on our children!\u201d\n\nOn the large scroll in the centre of the picture is the sentence of\nPilate:\n\n    \u201cI, Pontius Pilate, pretor and judge in Jerusalem under the\n    thrice powerful Emperor Tiberius, whose reign be eternally\n    blessed and prospered, in this tribunal, or judicial chair, in\n    order to pronounce and declare sentence for the synagogue of\n    the Jewish nation with respect to Jesus Christ here present, by\n    them led and accused before me, that, being born of father and\n    mother of poor and base extraction, he made himself by lofty\n    and blasphemous words the Son of God and King of the Jews, and\n    boasted he could rebuild the temple of Solomon, having heard\n    and examined the case, do say and declare on my conscience he\n    shall be crucified between two thieves.\u201d\n\nThis picture is analogous to the old mysteries of the Passion once so\npopular in this region, in which the author who respected the meaning of\nthe sacred text was at liberty to draw freely on his imagination. It was\nespecially in the dialogue that lay the field for his genius. However\nna\u00efve these sacred dramas, they greatly pleased the people. A painting\nsimilar to this formerly existed in St. Roch\u2019s Church at Paris, in which\nfigured the undecided Pilate in judicial array, Caiaphas the complacent\nflatterer of the people, and the mob with its old _r\u00f4le_ of \u201cCrucify him!\ncrucify him!\u201d\n\nWe must not forget a work of art, of very different character, associated\nwith the history of St. Jean de Luz. It is a curious piece of needle-work\ncommemorating the conferences of the two great statesmen, Cardinal\nMazarin and Don Luis de Haro, and evidently designed by an able artist,\nperhaps by Velasquez himself. It is a kind of _courte-pointe_ (it would\nnever do to call it by the ignoble name of coverlet!) of linen of\nremarkable fineness, on which are embroidered in purple silk the eminent\npersonages connected with the treaty of the Pyrenees, as well as various\nallegorical figures and accessory ornaments, which make it a genuine\nhistoric picture of lively and interesting character. This delicate piece\nof Spanish needle-work was wrought by the order of Don Luis de Haro as a\nmark of homage to his royal master. He presented it to the king on his\nfeast-day, May 1, 1661, and it probably adorned the royal couch. But the\nbetter to comprehend this work of art--for such it is, in spite of its\nname--let us recall briefly the events that suggested its details.\n\nPhilip IV. ascended the Spanish throne in 1621, when barely sixteen years\nof age. His reign lasted till 1665. He had successively two ministers of\nstate, both of great ability, but of very different political views. In\nthe first part of his reign the young monarch gave his whole confidence\nto the Count of Olivares, whose authority was almost absolute till 1648.\nBut his ministry was far from fortunate. On the contrary, it brought\nsuch humiliating calamities on the country that the king at length awoke\nto the danger that menaced it. He dismissed Olivares and appointed the\ncount\u2019s nephew and heir in his place, who proved one of the ablest\nministers ever known in Spain. He was a descendant of the brave Castilian\nlord to whom Alfonso VII. was indebted for the capture of Zurita, but\nwho would accept no reward from the grateful prince but the privilege of\ngiving the name of Haro to a town he had built. It was another descendant\nof this proud warrior who was made archbishop of Mexico in the latter\npart of the XVIIIth century, and was so remarkable for his charity and\neloquence as a preacher.\n\nDon Luis not only had the military genius of his ancestor, but the\nprudence of a real statesman, and he succeeded in partially repairing\nthe disasters of the preceding ministry. He raised an army and equipped\na powerful squadron, by which he repulsed the French, checked the\nPortuguese, brought the rebellious provinces into subjection, and\neffected the treaty of Munster; which energetic measures produced such an\neffect on the French government as to lead to amicable relations between\nthe two great ministers who, at this time, held the destiny of Europe in\ntheir hands, and to bring about a general peace in 1659.\n\nIt was with this object Cardinal Mazarin and Don Luis de Haro agreed upon\na meeting on the _Ile des Faisans_--as the Isle of Conference was then\ncalled--which led to the treaty of the Pyrenees.\n\nAs a reward for Don Luis\u2019 signal services, particularly the peace he had\ncemented by an alliance so honorable to the nation, Philip IV., in the\nfollowing year, conferred on him the title of duke, and gave him the\nsurname _de la Paz_.\n\nIt was at this time Don Luis had this curious _courte-pointe_ wrought as\na present to the king. He was the declared patron of the fine arts, and\nhad established weekly reunions to bring together the principal artists\nof Spain, some of whom probably designed this memorial of his glory.\nIt was preserved with evident care, and handed down from one sovereign\nto another, till it finally fell into the possession of the mother of\nFerdinand VII., who, wishing to express her sense of the fidelity of one\nof her ladies of honor, gave her this valuable counterpane. In this way\nit passed into the hands of its present owner at Bayonne.\n\nOn the upper part of this covering the power of Spain is represented by\na woman holding a subdued lion at her feet. In the centre are Nuestra\nSe\u00f1ora del Pilar and S. Ferdinand, patrons of the kingdom, around whom\nare the eagles of Austria, so closely allied to Spain. And by way of\nallusion to the _Ile des Faisans_, where the recent negotiations had\ntaken place, pheasants are to be seen in every direction. Cardinal\nMazarin and Don Luis de Haro are more than once represented. In one\nplace they are presenting an olive branch to the powers they serve; in\nanother they are advancing, side by side, towards Philip IV., to solicit\nthe hand of his daughter for Louis XIV. Here Philip gives his consent to\nthe marriage, and, lower down, Louis receives his bride in the presence\nof two females who personify France and Spain. The intermediate spaces\nare filled up with allusions to commerce with foreign lands and the\nprogress of civilization at home. Not only war, victory, and politics\nhave their emblems, but literature, beneficence, and wealth. But there\nare many symbols the meaning of which it would require the sagacity of a\nChampollion to fathom.\n\nThis is, perhaps, the only known instance of a prime minister directing\nhis energies to the fabrication of a counterpane. Disraeli, to be sure,\nhas woven many an extravagant web of romance with Oriental profusion of\nornament, but not, to our knowledge, in purple and fine linen, like Don\nLuis de Haro. We have seen one of the gorgeous coverlets of Louis XIV.,\nbut it was wrought by the young ladies of St. Cyr under the direction\nof Mme. de Maintenon; and there is another in the H\u00f4tel de Cluny that\nonce belonged to Francis I. The grand-daughter of Don Luis de Haro, the\nsole heiress of the house, married the Duke of Alba, carrying with her\nas a dowry the vast possessions of Olivares, Guzman, and Del Carpio. The\nbrother-in-law of the ex-Empress Eug\u00e9nie is a direct descendant of theirs.\n\nOpposite St. Jean de Luz, on the other side of the Nivelle, is Cibourre,\nwith its solemn, mysterious church, and its widowed houses built along\nthe quay and straggling up the hill of Bordagain. Prosperous once like\nits neighbor, it also participated in its misfortunes, and now wears\nthe same touching air of melancholy. The men are all sailors--the\nbest sailors in Europe--but they are absent a great part of the year.\nFearless wreckers live along the shore, who brave the greatest dangers\nto aid ships in distress. In more prosperous days its rivalry with St.\nJean de Luz often led to quarrels, and the islet which connects the two\nplaces was frequently covered with the blood shed in these encounters.\nThe convent of Recollects, now a custom-house, which we pass on our way\nto Cibourre, was founded in expiation of this mutual hatred, and very\nappropriately dedicated to _Notre Dame de la Paix_--Our Lady of Peace.\nThe cloister, with its round arches, is still in good preservation, and\nthe cistern is to be seen in the court, constructed by Cardinal Mazarin,\nthat the friars might have a supply of soft water.\n\nThe Basques are famed for their truthfulness and honesty, the result\nperhaps of the severity of their ancient laws, one of which ordered\na tooth to be extracted every time a person was convicted of lying!\nNo wonder the love of truth took such deep _root_ among them. But had\nthis stringent law been handed down and extended to other lands, what\ntoothless communities there would now be in the world!\n\n\nTHE ETERNAL YEARS.\n\nBY THE AUTHOR OF \u201cTHE DIVINE SEQUENCE.\u201d\n\nII.\n\nTHE PULSATIONS OF TIME.\n\nThe deduction we arrive at from the argument which we have laid down is\nthat the history of the world is a consistent one, and not a series of\nloose incidents strung together. It is as much this morally, it is as\ntruly the evolution and unwinding of a high moral law and of a great\nspiritual truth, as the life of the plant from the seed to the ripe fruit\nis the development of a natural growth. This last is governed by laws\nwith which we are only partially acquainted; whereas the moral law and\nthe spiritual truth are revealed to us by the divine scheme of creation\nand redemption. There is nothing existing, either in the natural or in\nthe spiritual law, and especially in this last, which is not more or\nless, in one way or in another, by assertion or by negation, a revelation\nof the divine Being.\n\nHe reveals himself directly by his volitions and indirectly by his\npermissions. And we can only be one with him when we have learnt to\naccept both and to submit to both; not in the spirit of quietism or\nfatalism, but as actively entering into his intentions, accepting what\nhe wills, and bearing what he permits. There is no harmony possible\nbetween the soul and God until we have arrived at this; and the history\nof the world is the history of man\u2019s acquiescence in, or resistance to,\nthe supreme will of God. The first disruption of the will of man from\nthe will of God, in the fall of man, wove a dark woof into the web of\ntime; and every act of ours which is not according to the will of God\nweaves the same into our own lives, because it is a rupture of the law\nof harmony which God has instituted between himself as creator and us\nas creatures. Were that harmony unbroken, man would rest in God as in\nhis centre; for, being finite, he has no sufficiency in himself, but\nfor ever seeks some good extrinsic to himself. The same applies to all\ncreation, whose ultimate end and highest good must always be some object\nbeyond, and above itself; and that object is none other than God, \u201cquod\nignorantes colitis,\u201d[270]--the finite striving after the Infinite. Thus\nthe whole divine government of the world is a gradual unfolding of the\ndivine Will, according as we are able to receive it. And the degree\nof receptivity in mankind, at various periods of the world\u2019s history,\nand in different localities, accounts for the variety in the divine\ndispensations, and for the imperfection of some as compared with others.\nThe \u201cyet more excellent way\u201d[271] could not be received by all at all\ntimes. The promise was given to Abraham. But four hundred and thirty\nyears elapsed before its fulfilment, for the express purpose of being\noccupied and spent in the institution of the law as a less perfect\ndispensation, and which was given because of transgressions--\u201cpropter\ntransgressiones posita est\u201d[272]--thus showing the adaptive government of\nGod: the gradual building up of the city of the Lord, whose stones are\nthe living souls of men, which are \u201chewed and made ready,\u201d[273] but so\nthat there shall be \u201cneither hammer, nor axe, nor tool of iron heard\u201d\nwhile it is building. For God does not force his creature. He pours not\n\u201cnew wine into old bottles,\u201d but waits in patience the growth of his\npoor creatures, and the slow and gradual leavening of the great mass.\nA time had been when God walked with man \u201cat the afternoon air\u201d;[274]\nand whatever may be the full meaning of this exquisitely-expressed\nintercourse, at least it must have been intimate and tender. But when\nthe black pall of evil fell on the face of creation, the light of God\u2019s\nintercourse with man was let in by slow degrees, like single stars coming\nout in the dark firmament. The revelations, like the stars, varied in\nmagnitude and glory, lay wide apart from each other, rose at different\nintervals of longer or shorter duration, and conveyed, like them, a\nflickering and uncertain light, until the \u201cSun of Justice arose with\nhealth in his wings,\u201d[275] and \u201cscattered the rear of darkness thin.\u201d The\ndegree of light vouchsafed was limited by the capacity of the recipient;\nand that capacity has not always been the same in all ages, any more than\nin any one age it is the same in all the contemporary men, or in each man\nthe same at all periods of his life. It is thus that we arrive at the\nexplanation of an apparent difference of tone, color, and texture, so to\nspeak, in the various manifestations of God to man. The manifestation is\nlimited to the capacity of the recipient; and not only is it limited,\nbut to a certain extent it becomes, as it were, tinged by the properties\nof the medium through which it is transmitted to others. It assumes\ncharacteristics that are not essentially its own. For so marvellous is\nthe respect with which the Creator treats the freedom of his creature\nthat he suffers us to give a measure of our own color to what he reveals\nto us, so that it may be more our own, more on our level, more within\nour grasp; as though he poured the white waters of saving truth into\nglasses of varied colors, and thus hid from us a pellucidity too perfect\nfor our nature. And thus it happens that to us who dwell in the light of\nGod\u2019s church, with the seven lamps of the seven sacraments burning in\nthe sanctuary, the God of Abraham and of Isaac and of Jacob hardly seems\nto us the same God as our God. We see him through the prism of the past,\namid surroundings that are strange to us, in the old patriarchal life\nthat seems so impossible a mode of existence to the denizens of great\ncities in modern Europe.\n\nThis is equally true throughout the history of the world. It is also true\nof every individual soul; and it is true of the same soul at different\nperiods of its existence. He is the same God always and everywhere. But\nthere is a difference in the kind of reception which each soul gives\nto that portion of divine knowledge and grace which it is capable of\nreceiving and which it actually does receive. For they are \u201cdivers kinds\nof vessels, every little vessel, from the vessels of cups even to every\ninstrument of music.\u201d[276] They differ in capacity and they differ in\nmaterial; and the great God, in revealing himself, does so by degrees.\nHe has deposited, as it were, the whole treasure of himself in the bosom\nof his spouse, the church; but the births of new grace and further\ndeveloped truth only come to us as we can bear them and when we can bear\nthem. The body of truth is all there; but the dispensing of that truth\nvaries in degree as time goes on. God governs in his own world; but he\ndoes so behind and through the human instruments whom he condescends\nto employ. And as, in the exercise of his own free-will, man chose the\nevil and refused the good, so has the Almighty accommodated himself to\nthe conditions which man has instituted. Were he to do otherwise, he\nwould force the will of his creature, which he never will do, because\nthe doing it would have for result to deprive that creature of all moral\nstatus and reduce him to a machine. From the moment that we lose the\npower of refusing the good and taking the evil, from the moment that any\nforce really superior to that which has been put into the arsenals of\nour own being robs us of the faculty of selection, we lose all merit and\nconsequently all demerit. The Creator, when he made man, surrounded him\nwith the respect due to a being who had the power of disposing of his own\neverlasting destiny. Nor has he ever done, nor will he do, anything which\ncan entrench on this prerogative. The whole system of grace is a system\ndivinely devised to afford man aid in the selection he has to make. There\nlies an atmosphere of grace all around our souls, as there lies the\nair we breathe around our senses. The one is as frequently unperceived\nby us as the other.[277] We are without consciousness as regards its\npresence, as we are without direct habitual consciousness of the act of\nbreathing and of our own existence, except as from time to time we make a\nreflective modification in our own mind of the idea of the air and of the\nfact of our inhaling it. We are unconscious that it is the divine Creator\nwho is for ever sustaining our physical existence. We are oblivious of\nit for hours together, unless we stop and think. It is the same with the\npresence of grace.\n\nAnd though \u201cexciting\u201d grace, as theology calls it, begins with the\nillustration of the intellect, it does not follow that we are always by\nany means conscious of this illustration. It is needless to carry out\nthe theological statement in these pages. What we have said is enough to\nbring us round to our point, which is that the action of grace on the\nindividual soul, and the long line of direct and indirect revelations\nof God\u2019s will from the creation to the present hour, though always the\nsame grace and always the same revelation, receive different renderings\naccording to the vehicle in which they are held--much as a motive in\nmusic remains the same air, though transposed from one key to another.\nNot only, therefore, does man, as it were, give a color of his own to\nthe revelation of God, but he has the sad faculty of limiting its flow\nand circumscribing its course, even where he cannot altogether arrest\nit. We are \u201cslow of heart to believe,\u201d and therefore is the time delayed\nwhen the still unfulfilled promises may take effect. Our Lord declares\nthat Moses _permitted_ the Hebrews to put away their wives, because\nof the hardness of their hearts; \u201cbut from the beginning it was not\nso.\u201d[278] God\u2019s law had never in itself been other than what the church\nhas declared it to be. The state of matrimony, as God had ordained it,\nwas always meant to be what the church has now defined. But man was not\nin a condition to receive so perfect a law; and thus the condition of\nman--that is, the hardness of his heart--had the effect of modifying\nthe apparent will of God, as revealed in what we now know to be one of\nthe seven sacraments. The Hebrews were incapable of anything more than\na mutilated, or rather a truncated, expression of the divine will, as\nit was represented to them in the law of Moses on the married state.\nNor could we anywhere find a more perfect illustration of our argument.\nIn the first place, it is given us by our Lord himself; and, in the\nsecond, it occurs on a subject which, taken in its larger sense, involves\nalmost every other, lies at the root of the whole world of matter, and\nof being through matter, and may be called the representative idea of\nthe creation. Now, if on such a question as this mankind, at some period\nof their existence, and that a period which includes ages of time, and\ncovers, at one interval or another, the whole vast globe, could only\n_bear_ an imperfect and utterly defective rendering, how much more must\nthere exist to be still further developed out of the \u201cthings new and\nold\u201d which lie in the womb of time and in the treasures of the church,\nbut which are waiting for the era when we shall be in a condition to\nreceive them! The whole system of our Lord\u2019s teaching was based on this\nprinciple. He seems, if we may so express it, afraid of overburdening\nhis disciples by too great demands upon their capacity. He says with\nreference to the mission of S. John the Baptist: \u201c_If_ you will receive\nit, he is Elias that is to come,\u201d[279] and in the Sermon on the Mount he\npoints out to them the imperfection of the old moral code, as regarded\nthe taking of oaths and the law of talion. Now, the moral law, as it\nexisted in the mind of God, could never have varied. It must always\nhave been \u201cperfect as our heavenly Father is perfect.\u201d But it passed\nthrough an imperfect medium--the one presented by the then condition of\nmankind--and was modified accordingly.\n\nWe hold, therefore, in what we have now stated, a distinct view of the\nway in which God governs the world; not absolutely, not arbitrarily,\nbut _adaptively_. And where we see imperfection, and at times apparent\nretrogression, it is the free will of man forcing the will of God to his\nown destruction, \u201cuntil he who hindereth now, and will hinder, be taken\nout of the way.\u201d[280]\n\nIf this be true of God\u2019s direct revelations of himself, and of his\nmoral law as given from time to time to mankind, according as, in\ntheir fallen state, they could receive it--if, in short, it be true of\nhis direct volitions--it is also true of his permissions. If it hold\ngood of the revelations of his antecedent will, it holds good of the\ninstances (so far as we may trace them in the history of the world) of\nhis consequent will; that is, of his will which takes into consideration\nthe facts induced by man in the exercise of his own free will, which is\nso constantly running counter to the antecedent will of God. The divine\npermissions form the negative side of the revelation of God. They are\nhis permissive government of the world, not his direct government. The\ndirect government is the stream of revelation given to our first parents,\nto the patriarchs and lawgivers of Israel, and now, in a more direct\nand immediate way, through our Blessed Lord in his birth, death, and\nresurrection, by the church in the sacraments, and through her temporal\nhead, the vicar of Christ.\n\nEven now, when he has consummated his union with his church, and that she\nis the true organ of the Holy Ghost, and thus the one true and infallible\nmedium and interpreter of God\u2019s direct government of the world, he also\ngoverns it by the indirect way of his overruling providence. The events\nwhich occur in history have ever a double character. They have their\nmere human aspect, often apparently for evil alone; and they have their\nultimate result for good, which is simply the undercurrent of God\u2019s will\nworking upwards, and through the actions of mankind. Events which, on\nthe face of them, bear the character of unmitigated evils, like war,\nhave a thousand ultimate beneficial results. War is the rude, cruel\npioneer of the armies of the Lord; for where the soldier has been the\npriest will follow. Persecutions kindle new faith and awake fresh ardor.\nPestilence quickens charity and leads to improvements in the condition of\nthe poor. Nor do we believe that it is only in this large and general,\nunsympathetic, and sweeping manner that God allows good to be worked out\nof evil. We have faith in the intercession of the Mother of Mercy; and\nas ultimate good may arise to whole races of mankind out of terrible\ncalamities, so, we are persuaded, there is a more intimate, minute, and\nloving interference to individual souls wherever there is huge public\ncalamity. The field of battle, the burning city, the flood, and the\npestilence are Mary\u2019s harvest fields, whither she sends her angels, over\nwhom she is queen, with special and extraordinary graces, to gather and\ncollect those who might otherwise have perished, and, in the supreme\nmoment which is doubtless so often God\u2019s hour, to win trophies of mercy\nto the honor and glory of the Precious Blood.\n\nUnless we believe in God\u2019s essential, actual, and unintermittent\ngovernment of the world, we cannot solve the riddle of the Sphinx, and\nher cruel, stony stare will freeze our blood as we traverse the deserts\nof life. If we believe only in his direct government, we shall find it\nchiefly, if not solely, in his church; and the area is sadly limited! If\nwe acknowledge his essential providence in his permissions, if we make\nsure of his presence in what appears its very negation, then alone do\nwe arrive at the solution of life\u2019s problems; and even this, not as an\nobvious thing, but as a constant and ever-renewed act of faith in the\nunder-flowing gulf-stream of divine love, which melts the ice and softens\nthe rigor of the wintry epochs in the world\u2019s history. If we admit of\nthis theory, which is new to none of us, though dim to some, we let in a\nflood of light upon many of the incidents described in the Old Testament,\nand specially spoken of as done by the will of God, but which, to our\nfarther-advanced revelation of God, read to us as unlike himself. The\nlight of the later interpretation has been thrown over the earlier fact;\nbut in the harmony of eternity, when we are freed from the broken chord\nof time, there will be no dissonant notes.\n\nThere can be no more wonderful proof of God\u2019s unutterable love than the\nway in which he has condescended to make the very sins of mankind work to\nhis own glory and to the farther revelation of himself. From the first\n\u201c_felix culpa_\u201d of our first parents, as the church does not hesitate to\ncall it, down to the present hour--down even to the secret depths of our\nown souls, where we are conscious of the harvests of grace sprung from\nrepentant tears--it is still the great alchemist turning base metal in\nthe crucible of divine love into pure gold.\n\nIt is one of the most irrefragable proofs of the working of a perpetual\nprovidence that can be adduced.\n\nGranted that there are no new creations, but that creation is one act,\nevolving itself by its innate force into all the phenomena which we\nsee, and into countless possible others which future generations of\nbeings will see, nothing of this can prevent the fact that the moral\ndevelopment of the status of mankind, the revelations of divine truth,\nand consequently of the Deity, through the flow of ages, has ever\nbeen a bringing of good out of evil which no blind, irresponsible law\ncould produce. There is no sort of reason why evil should work into\nits contrary good, except the reason that God is the supreme good,\nand directs all apparent evil into increments of his glory, thereby\nconverting it into an ultimate good. We must remember, however, that\nthis does not diminish our culpability, because it does not affect our\nfree-will. It does not make evil another form of good. It is no pact with\nthe devil. It is war and victory, opposition and conquest. It is justice\nand retribution, and it behooves us to see whether we are among those\nwho are keeping ourselves in harmony with the eternal God in his direct\ngovernment of the world; in harmony (so far as we know it) with his\nantecedent will; or whether we are allowing ourselves to drift away into\nchannels of our own, working out only the things that he permits, but\nwhich he also condemns, and laying up for ourselves that swift devouring\nflame which will \u201ctry every man\u2019s work of what sort it is.\u201d\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nWe have thus arrived at two different views of God\u2019s government of the\nworld--his direct government and his indirect or permissive government.\nWe now come to what we may call his inductive teaching of the world--the\nway in which truths are partially revealed to us, and come to us\npercolating through the sands of time, as mankind needs them and can\nreceive them.\n\nOur Lord himself gives us an example of this inductive process when he\nspeaks of \u201cthe God of Abraham, of Isaac, and of Jacob\u201d as being \u201cnot the\nGod of the dead, but of the living,\u201d thus showing that the Jews held, and\nwere bound to hold, the doctrine of immortality by an inductive process.\nThe teaching of the old law was symbolic and inductive. The histories of\nthe Old Testament are of the same character. They are written with no\napparent design. They are the simple account of such incidents as the\nhistorian thought himself bound to record; acting, as he did, under the\ndivine impulse, which underlay his statements without fettering his pen.\nHe was not himself half conscious of the unspeakable importance of his\nwork. Consequently, there is no effort, hardly even common precaution and\nforesight, in his mode of chronicling events. He glances at incidents\nwithout explaining them, because while he wrote they were present to his\nown experience, and would be to that of his readers. A writer in our day\nwould allude to a person having performed a journey of fifty miles in an\nhour\u2019s time without thinking it necessary to explain that people travel\nby steam. In another part he would advert to railroads, and the rapidity\nof locomotion as their result, equally without a direct reference to\nthe individual who effected fifty miles in an hour. To the reader of\nthree thousand years hence the one incidental allusion will explain\nand corroborate the other, and thus, by internal evidence, prove the\nauthenticity and consistency of the history. Unintentional coincidences\ncrop up as the pages grow beneath his hand, and to the careful student of\nScripture throw light unlooked for on the exactitude and veracity of the\nnarrative. And the substratum of the whole of the Old Testament history\nis the gradual growth of one family out of all the families of mankind,\ninto which, as into a carefully prepared soil, the seed of divine truth\nwas to be sown. Through all the variety of the Old Testament writers\nthe same underlying design exists; and though this was a special stream\nof revelation unlike any that now exists or that is now required (for\nreasons which are obvious to every Catholic who knows what the church\nis), yet they form an indication of the way in which the divine Creator\nis for ever governing the world and preparing it with a divine foresight\nfor his ultimate purpose. The Holy Ghost speaks now through a direct\norgan, which organ is the church. Formerly God spoke through historic\nevents and multitudinous incidents in connection with one race of people.\nBut this very fact authorizes us to believe that the same _character_\nof government exists throughout the whole universe in a greater or less\ndegree, and that God is preparing the way for the ultimate triumph of\nthe sacred Humanity and of his spouse the Church, on the far-off shores\nof sultry Africa, in the inner recesses of silent China, among the huge\nforests which skirt the Blue Mountains, or amid the glittering glories of\nthe kingdoms of ice.\n\nThere is nothing more depressingly sad, more deeply to be regretted, and\nmore difficult to explain than the almost hopeless narrowness of most\npeople in their appreciation of divinely-ordained facts. We live like\nmoles. We throw up a mound of dusky earth above and around us, within\nwhich we grope and are content. The treasures of sacred lore, the depths\nof spiritual science, the infinite variety of Scriptural information,\nwith the divinely-pointed moral of every tale, are things which most\nof us are content to know exist, and to think no more about. The very\nlavishness with which God has given us all that we want for the salvation\nof our souls seems to have stifled in our ungenerous natures the\nlonging to know and to do more. When the Evangelist said that the world\nwould not hold the books that might be written on the sacred Humanity\nalone, he must have had an intuition, not so much of the material world\nand material volumes, as of the world of narrowed minds and crippled\nhearts who would be found stranded on the shores of our much-vaunted\ncivilization and progress.\n\nFew things are more remarkable in the tone and character of modern\nCatholic writers than the small amount of use they make of Scripture:\nso strangely in contrast with the old writers, and with even the great\nFrench spiritual authors of a century and a half ago. Their pages are\nrich with Scriptural lore. Their style is a constant recognition of the\ngovernment and designs of God as shown to us in our past and present, and\nas we are bound to anticipate them in the future. In our time this has\ngiven place to emotional devotion; a most excellent thing in its way, but\nonly likely to have much influence over our lives when it is grounded on\nsolid theology and directed by real knowledge. No doubt it is so in the\nminds of the authors themselves; but we fear it is rare in those of their\nordinary readers, who thus drink the froth off the wine, but are not\nbenefited by the strengthening properties of the generous liquid itself.\nNor will they be until they have made up their minds to believe and\nunderstand that conversion is not an isolated fact in their lives, but a\nprogressive act involving all the intellect, all the faculties, be they\ngreat or small (for each one must be full up to his capacity), and all\nthe heart, mind, and soul. The whole man must work and be worked upon in\nharmony; and we must remember that it _is_ work, and not merely feeling,\nconsolation, emotion, prettiness, and ornament, but an intellectual\ngrowth, going on _pari passu_ with a spiritual growth, until the whole\nvessel is fitted and prepared for the glory of God.\n\nWe think we may venture to say that few things will conduce more to this\nthan the study of the divine Scriptures under the light and teaching\nof the Catholic Church. In them we find a profound revelation of the\ncharacter of God. We are, as we read them interpreted to us by the lamp\nof the sanctuary, let down into awful depths of the divine Eternal Mind.\nWe watch the whole world and all creation working up for the supreme\nmoment of the birth of Jesus; while in the life of our Blessed Lord\nhimself we find, condensed into those wonderful thirty-three years,\nthe whole system of the church--the spiritual fabric which is to fill\neternity, the one God-revealing system which is finally to supersede all\nothers.\n\nUnhappily many persons are under the delusion that narrowness and\nignorance are the same as Christian simplicity, and that innocence means\nignorance of everything else, as well as of evil. These are the people\nwho are afraid to look facts in the face, and to read them off as part\nof the God-directed history of the world. These are they to whom science\nis a bugbear. They hug their ignorance as being their great safeguard,\nand wear blinkers lest they should be startled by the events which cross\ntheir path. Grown men and women do it for themselves and attempt it for\ntheir children, and meanwhile those to whom we ought to be superior are\nrushing on with headlong daring, carrying intellectual eminence, and\noriginality, and investigation of science, all before them; while we, who\nshould be clad in the panoply of the faith, and afraid of nothing, are\nputting out the candles and shading the lamps, that we may idly enjoy a\nshadow too dense for real work.\n\nAnd yet is not the earth ours? Is not all that exists our heritage? To\nwhom does anything belong if not to us, the sons of the church, the\nsole possessors of infallible truth, the only invulnerable ones, the\nonly ever-enduring and ever-increasing children of the light? The past\nis ours; the present should be ours; the future is all our own. Our\ntriumph may be slow (and it is slower because we are cowards), but it\nis certain. Are we not tenfold the children of the covenant, the sons\nof the Father\u2019s house, the heirs of all? We alone are in possession of\nwhat all science and art must ultimately fall back upon and harmonize\nwith. There is no success possible but what is obtained, and shall in the\nfuture be obtained, in union with the church of God. Have we forgotten,\nare we ever for a moment permitted to forget, that the church of God\nis not an accident, nor a cunningly-devised, tolerably able, partially\ninfirm organization, but that she is the spouse of the God-Man, the one\nrevelation of God, perfect and entire, though but gradually given forth;\nthat all the harmonies of science are fragments of the harmony of God\nhimself, of his pure being, of the _Qui Est_; and that the harmony of the\narts is simply the human expression of the harmony of the _Logos_, the\nhuman utterances of the articulations of the divine Word, as they come to\nus in our far-off life-like echoes from eternity?\n\nEven the great false religions of the past, and of the present in the\nremote East, are but man\u2019s discord breaking the harmony of truth while\nretaining the key-note: the immortality of the soul and the perfection\nof a future state in the deep thoughts of Egypt, the universality of\nGod\u2019s providential government of the world in Greek mythology, the union\nof the soul with God in Brahminism, and the One God of Mahometanism.\nEach has its kernel of truth, its ideal nucleus of supernatural belief,\nwhich it had caught from the great harmony of God in broken fragments,\nand enshrined in mystic signs. Even now, as we look back upon them all,\nwe are bound to confess that they stand on a totally different ground\nfrom the multitudinous sects of our day, which break off from the one\nbody of the church and drift off into negation or Protestantism. Far be\nit from us to insinuate that any, the lowest form of Christianity, the\nweakest utterance of the dear name of Jesus, is not ten thousand fold\nbetter than the most abstruse of the old Indian or Egyptian religions.\nWherever the name of Jesus is uttered, no matter how imperfectly, there\nis more hope of light and of salvation than in the deepest symbols of\nheathen or pagan creeds. It may be but one ray of light, but still it is\nlight--the real warming, invigorating light of the sun, and not the cold\nand deleterious light of the beautiful moon, who has poisoned what she\nhas borrowed.[281] Nevertheless, and maintaining this with all the energy\nof which we are capable, it is still true that each one of the great\nfalse religions, which at various times and in divers places have swayed\nmankind, was rather the overgrowth of error on a substantial truth than\nthe breaking up of truth into fragmentary and illogical negation, which\nis the characteristic of all forms of secession from the Catholic unity\nof the church. The modern aberrations from the faith are a mere jangle\nof sounds, while the old creeds were the petrifaction of truth. The\nmodern forms of faith outside the church are a negation of truth rather\nthan a distortion. Consequently, they are for ever drifting and taking\nProtean shapes that defy classification.\n\nThey have broken up into a hundred forms; they will break up into a\nthousand more, till the whole fabric has crumbled into dust. They have\nnone of the strong hold on human nature which the old religions had,\nbecause they are not the embodiment of a sacred mystery, but rather the\nexplaining away of all mystery. They are a perpetual drifting detritus,\nwithout coherence as without consistency; and as they slip down the slant\nof time, they fall into the abyss of oblivion, and will leave not a trace\nbehind, only in so far that, vanishing from sight, they make way for the\nfuller establishment of the truth--the eternal, the divine, spherical\ntruth, absolute in its cohesion and perfect in all its parts.\n\nThe hold which heathen and pagan creeds have had upon mankind conveys a\nlesson to ourselves which superficial thinkers are apt to overlook. It is\ncertain they could not have held whole nations beneath their influence\nhad not each in its turn been an embodiment of some essential truth\nwhich, though expressed through error, remains in itself essentially\na part of truth. They snatched at fragments of the natural law which\ngoverns the universe, or they embodied in present expression the\ninalienable hopes of mankind. They took the world of nature as the\nutterance neither of a passing nor of an inexorable law, but of an\ninscrutable Being, and believed that the mystical underlies the natural.\nUntaught by the sweet revelations of Christianity, their religion could\nassume no aspect but one of terror, silent dread, and deep horror. Their\nonly escape from this result was in the deterioration that necessarily\nfollows the popularization of all abstract ideas, unless protected by\na system at once consistent and elastic, like that which is exhibited\nin the discipline of the Catholic Church. They wearied of the rarefied\natmosphere of unexplained mystery. They wanted the tangible and evident\nin its place. Like the Israelites, they lusted after the flesh-pots of\nEgypt; and their lower nature and evil passions rebelled against the\nmoral loftiness of abstract truth. The multitude could not be kept up\nto the mark, and needed coarser food. The result was inevitable. But as\nall religion involves mystery, instead of working upward through the\nnatural law to the spiritual and divine law, they inverted the process,\nand grovelled down below the natural law, with its sacramentalistic\ncharacter, to the preternatural and diabolic. Mystery was retained, but\nonly in the profanation of themselves and of natural laws, until they had\npassed outside all nature, and, making a hideous travesty of humanity,\nhad become more vile and hateful than the devils they served.\n\nThus the Romans vulgarized the Greek mythology; and that which had\nremained during a long period as a beautiful though purely human\nexpression of a divine mystery, among a people whose religion consisted\nmainly in the worship of the beautiful, and who themselves transcended\nall that humanity has ever since beheld in their own personal perfection\nof beauty, became, when it passed through the coarser hands of the\nRomans, a degenerate vulgarity, which infected their whole existence, in\nart and in manners, quite as effectually as in religion. Then Rome flung\nopen her gates to all the creeds of all the world, and the time-honored\nembodiments of fragmentary but intrinsic truth met together, and were all\nequally tolerated and equally degenerated. All!--except the one whole and\nperfect truth: the Gospel of Salvation. That was never tolerated. That\nalone could not be endured, because the instinct of evil foresaw its own\nimpending ruin in the Gospel of peace.\n\nIt was a new thing for mankind to be told that a part of the essence\nof religion was elevated morality and the destruction of sin in the\nindividual. Whatever comparative purity of life had co-existed with the\nold religions was hardly due to their influence among the multitude,\nthough it might be so with those whose educated superiority enabled them\nto reason out the morality of creeds. While the rare philosopher was\nreading the inmost secret of the abstract idea on which the religion\nof his country was based, and the common pagan was practising the most\ndegraded sorcery and peering into obscene mysteries, without a single\nelevation of thought, suddenly the life of the God-Man was put before the\nworld, and the whole face of creation was gradually changed.\n\nBut as the shadows of the past in the old religions led up to the light,\nso shall the light of the present lead up to the \u201cperfect day.\u201d\n\nTO BE CONTINUED.\n\n\nSEARCH FOR OLD LACE IN VENICE.\n\nOne is almost ashamed to mention Venice now, or any other of those\nthousand-and-one bournes of hackneyed travel and staples of hackneyed\nbooks. There is probably no one claiming a place in a civilized community\nwho does not know Venice almost as well as do her own children, and\nwho could not discourse intelligently of the Bridge of Sighs, the\nDoge\u2019s Palace, and the Rialto Bridge, of St. Mark\u2019s and the brazen\nhorses. Still, when one has read multitudinous poems about gondolas and\ngondoliers, and any amount of descriptions of the Grand Canal, with its\npalaces of various styles of architecture, and some few dramas about the\ngrand and gloomy, the secret and awful, doings of ancient Venetian life,\neven then there are nooks in the place and incidents in the doings which\nescape notice. A traveller arriving at Venice is hardly surprised at the\nwater-street, with which pictures have already made him familiar, but the\nmode of entering a covered gondola--crab-fashion--is not so familiar, and\nhe generally butts his head against the low ceiling, eliciting a laugh\nfrom his gondolier and the good-humored bystanders, before he learns the\nnative and proper way of backing into his seat. So, too, in rowing slowly\nand dreamily about from church to church, full of artistic marvels or\nwonderful historical monuments, he feels to a certain degree at home. He\nhas seen all this before; the present is but a dream realized. But there\nare now and then unexpected sights--though, it must be confessed, not\nmany--and of course such are the most interesting, even if they are by\nno means on a level with those more famous and more beautiful.\n\nFrom Venice to Vicenza is but a short distance by rail, and Vicenza\nboasts of Roman ruins, and medi\u00e6val churches, and a Palladian theatre;\nbut on our day\u2019s trip there, in early spring, we certainly dwelt more on\nthe aspect of the woods and plains, with their faint veil of yellow green\nalready beginning to appear, the few flowers in the _osteria_ garden, and\nthe box hedges and aloes in the cemetery. The beauty of the Venetian and\nLombard plains lies more in their mere freshness than in their diversity;\nit is entirely a beauty of detail, a beauty fit for the minuteness of\nPreraphaelite art rather than for the sweeping brush of the great masters\nof conventional landscape painting. But coming from Venice every trace\nof verdure was grateful to the eye, and we felt as one who, having been\nconfined in a beautiful, spacious room, filled with treasures and scented\nwith subtle perfume, might feel on coming suddenly into the fresh air of\na prairie. By contrast, the suggestion of fresh air and open space draws\nus at once to our subject--a search after old lace in one of the cities\nknown to possess many treasures in that line.\n\nLike all other industries in Venice, the sale of lace thrives chiefly on\nthe fancy of the foreign visitors. The natives are generally too poor to\nbuy much of it, and, indeed, much of what is in the market is the product\nof forced sacrifices made by noble but impoverished families of Venetian\norigin. It is a sad thing to see the spoils of Italy still scattered\nover the world, as if the same fate had pursued her, with a few glorious\nintervals of triumph and possession, ever since the barbarian ancestors\nof her _forestieri_ rifled her treasure-houses under the banners of\nCeltic, Cimbrian, and Gothic chieftains. What Brennus, Alaric, and\nGenseric began the Constable of Bourbon and the great Napoleon continued\nby force; but what is still sadder is to see the daily disintegration\nof other treasure-houses whose contents are unwillingly but necessarily\nbartered away to rich Englishmen, Americans, and Russians. Pictures,\njewelry, lace, goldsmith\u2019s work, artistic trifles--precious through\ntheir material and history, but more so through the family associations\nwhich have made them heirlooms--too often pass from the sleepy, denuded,\ndilapidated, but still beautiful Italian palace to the cabinet or gallery\nor museum of the lucky foreign connoisseur, or even--a worse fate--into\nthe hands of men to whom possession is much, but appreciation very little.\n\nWhile at Venice we were so lazy as never to go sight-seeing, which\naccounts for the fact that we missed many a thing which visitors of a few\ndays see and talk learnedly about; and if the business activity of an old\nlace-seller had not brought her to the hotel, our search after lace might\nnever have been made. She brought fine specimens with her, but her prices\nwere rather high, and, after admiring the lace, she was dismissed without\ngetting any orders. But she came again, and this time left her address.\nWe wanted some lace for a present, and fancied that the proverbial\nfacility for taking anything rather than nothing, which distinguishes\nthe Italian seller of curiosities, would induce her to strike some more\nfavorable bargain in her own house, where no other customer would be at\nhand to treasure up her weakness as a precedent.\n\nIt was not easy to find the house. Many intricate little canals had to be\ntraversed (for on foot we should probably have lost our way over and over\nagain); and as we passed, many a quaint court, many a delicate window,\nmany a sombre archway, and as often the objects which we, perhaps too\nconventionally, call picturesque--such as the tattered clothes drying\non long lines stretched from window to window; heaps of refuse piled up\nagainst princely gateways; rotten posts standing up out of the water,\nwith the remnants of the last coat of paint they ever had, a hundred\nyears ago; gaudy little shrines calculated to make a Venetian _popolana_\nfeel very pious and an \u201cunregenerate\u201d artist well-nigh frantic--met our\nsight. At last the house was reached, or at least the narrow quay from\nwhich a _calle_, or tiny, dark street, plunged away into regions unknown\nbut inviting. Our gondolier was wise in the street-labyrinth lore of\nhis old city, and up some curious outside stairs, and then again by\ninnumerable inside ones, we reached the old woman\u2019s rooms. Of these there\nwere two--at least, we saw no more. Both were poor and bare, and the old\nlace seller was wrinkled, unclean, good-humored, and eager. She talked\nvolubly, not being obliged to use a foreign tongue to help herself out,\nbut going on with her soft, gliding, but quick Venetian tones. Travelling\nin Italy and coming in contact with all classes of the people is apt\nsadly to take down one\u2019s scholarly conceit in knowing the language of\nDante and Petrarch; for all the classicism of one\u2019s school-days goes for\nvery little in bargaining for lace, giving orders in a shop or market,\nor trying not to let boat-and-donkey-men cheat you to your face. There\nis this comfort: that if you often cannot understand the people, they\ncan almost invariably understand you (unless your accent be altogether\noutrageous), which saves John Bull and his American cousin the ignominy\nof being brought an umbrella when they have asked for mushrooms, and\nactually taken the trouble to give a diagram of that vegetable.\n\nThe prices were kept so obstinately above our means that all purchase of\nlace was impossible; but the old woman was untiring in displaying her\nstores of antique treasures, and we felt sufficiently rewarded for our\nexpedition. She herself was worth a visit; for, like many ancient Italian\nmatrons, and not a few nearer home, she was one of that generation of\nmodels whom you would have sworn has endured from the days of Titian\nand Vandyke, immortally old and unchangeably wrinkled. You see such\nfaces in the galleries, with the simple title \u201cHead of an old man\u201d--or\nold woman, as the case may be--attributed to some famous painter; and\nthese weird portraits attract you far more than the youth, and beauty,\nand health, and prosperity of the Duchess of Este, the baker\u2019s handsome\ndaughter, or the gorgeous Eastern sibyl. Again, you do not care to have\nany allegorical meaning tacked on to that intensely human face; you would\nbe disgusted if you found it set down in the catalogue as \u201ca Parca,\u201d\na magician, or a witch. You seem to know it, to remember one which\nwas like it, to connect it with many human vicissitudes and common,\nthough not the less pathetic, troubles. She is probably poor and has\nbeen hard-working; wifehood and motherhood have been stern realities\nto her, instead of poems lived in luxurious houses and earthly plenty;\nher youth\u2019s romance was probably short, fervid, passionate, but soon\nlapsed into the dreary struggle of the poor for bare life. Chance and old\nage have made her look hard, though in truth her heart would melt at a\ntender love-tale like that of a girl of fifteen, and her brave, bright\nnature belies the lines on her face. Just as women live this kind of life\nnowadays, so they did three and five hundred years ago; so did probably\nthose very models immortalized by great painters; so did others long\nbefore art had reached the possibility of truthful portraiture.\n\nOur old friend the lace-seller, though she has given occasion for this\nrambling digression, did not, however, at the time, suggest all these\nthings to our mind.\n\nIf she herself was a type of certain models of the old masters, her wares\nwere also a reminder of famous people, scenes, and places of Venice.\nThey were all of one kind, all of native manufacture, and, of course,\nall made by hand. In a certain degenerate fashion this industry is still\ncontinued, but the specimens of modern work which we saw were coarse\nand valueless in comparison with those of the old. There were collars\nand cuffs in abundance, such as both men and women wore--large, broad,\nVandyked collars like those one sees in Venetian pictures; flounces,\nor rather straight bands of divers widths, from five to twenty inches,\nwhich had more probably belonged to albs and cottas. They suggested\nrich churches and gorgeous ceremonial in a time when nobles and people\nwere equally devoted to splendid shows, prosperity and loftiness, and a\npicturesque blending of the religious and the imperial. Chasubles stiff\nwith gems and altars of precious stones seem to harmonize well with\nthese priceless veils, woven over with strange, hieroglyphic-looking,\nconventional, yet beautiful forms; intricate with tracery which, put into\nstone, would immortalize a sculptor; full of knots, each of which is a\nminiature masterpiece of embroidery; and the whole the evident product\nof an artist\u2019s brain. This lace has not the gossamer-like beauty of\nBrussels. It is thick and close in its texture, and is of that kind\nwhich looks best on dark velvets and heavy, dusky cloths--just what one\nwould fancy the grave Venetian signiors wearing on state occasions. It\nmatches somehow with the antique XVth and XVIth century jewelry--the\nmagnificent, artistic, heavy collars of the great orders of chivalry; it\nhas something solid, substantial, and splendid about it. Such lace used\nto be sold to kings and senators, not by a paltry yard measure, but by at\nleast twice its weight in gold; for the price was \u201cas many gold pieces as\nwould cover the quantity of lace required.\u201d Now, although this princely\nmode of barter is out of fashion, old Venetian \u201cpoint\u201d is still one of\nthe costliest luxuries in the world, and the rich foreigners who visit\nVenice usually carry away at least as much as will border a handkerchief\nor trim a cap, as a memento of the beautiful and once imperial city of\nthe Adriatic. The modern lace--one can scarcely call it _imitation_,\nany more than Salviati\u2019s modern Venetian glass and mosaic can be so\ncalled--seems to be deficient in the beauty and intricacy of design of\nthe old specimens; it is so little sought after that the industry stands\na chance of dying out, at least until after the old stock is exhausted\nand necessity drives the lace-makers to ply their art more delicately.\n\nSome modern lace, the English Honiton and some of the Irish lace, is\nquite as perfect and beautiful, and very nearly as costly, as the\nundoubted specimens the history of which can be traced back for two or\nthree hundred years. But from what we saw of Venetian point, the new\nhas sadly degenerated from the old, and exact copying of a few antique\nmodels would be no detriment to the modern productions. To the unlearned\neye there is no difference between Venetian glass three or four hundred\nyears old, carefully preserved in a national museum, and the manufactures\nof last month, sold in Salviati\u2019s warerooms in Venice and his shop in\nLondon. Connoisseurs say they _do_ detect some inferiority in the modern\nwork; but as to the lace, even the veriest tyro in such lore can see the\nrough, tasteless, coarse appearance of the new when contrasted with the\nold.\n\n\nNEW PUBLICATIONS.\n\n    SUPPOSED MIRACLES: AN ARGUMENT FOR THE HONOR OF CHRISTIANITY\n    AGAINST SUPERSTITION, AND FOR ITS TRUTH AGAINST UNBELIEF. By\n    Rev. J. M. Buckley. New York: Hurd & Houghton. 1875.\n\nMr. Buckley is a Methodist minister, who seems to be a sensible,\nhonest, and straightforward person, strong in his convictions, ardently\nreligious, and yet abhorring the excesses of credulity and irrational\nenthusiasm. The substance of his pamphlet was delivered by him as an\naddress before a meeting of Methodist ministers, and is principally\ndirected against some pretences to miraculous powers and wonderful\ncure-working within his own denomination. So far as this goes, his\neffort is quite successful, particularly in regard to a certain Rev. Mr.\nPlatt, who professes to have been cured of an obstinate infirmity by the\nprayers, accompanied by the imposition of hands, of a lady by the name\nof Miss Mossman. His particular object led him, however, to advance some\ngeneral propositions respecting real and supposititious miracles, and\nto sustain these by arguments and appeals to so-called facts, real or\nassumed, having a much wider range and application than is embraced by\nhis special and immediate purpose. As an _argumentum ad hominem_, his\nplea may have been quite sufficient and convincing to his particular\naudience; but as addressed to a wider circle in the form of a published\npamphlet, it appears to be somewhat deficient in the quality and quantity\nof the proofs alleged in support of its great amplitude and confidence of\nassertion. It is also defective in respect to the definition and division\nof the subject-matter. To begin with his definition of miracle: \u201cA true\nmiracle is an event which involves the setting aside or contradiction of\nthe established and uniform relations of antecedents and consequents;\nsuch event being produced at the will of an agent not working in the\nway of physical cause and effect, for the purpose of demonstration,\nor punishment, or deliverance.\u201d This definition errs by excess and\ndefect--by excess, in including the scope or end as a part of the\nessence; by defect, in excluding effects produced by an act of divine\npower which is above all established and uniform relations of antecedents\nand consequents. This last fault is not of much practical importance in\nrespect to the question of the miracles by which a divine revelation is\nproved, or of ecclesiastical miracles; because those which are simply\nabove nature, called by S. Thomas miracles of the first order--as the\nIncarnation and the glorification of the body of Christ--are very few in\nnumber, and are more objects than evidences of faith. The first error,\nhowever, confuses the subject, and opens the way to a summary rejection\nof evidence for particular miracles on the _\u00e0 priori_ ground that they\nhave not that scope which has been defined by the author as necessary to\na true miracle. It is evident that God cannot give supernatural power\nto perform works whose end is bad or which are simply useless. But we\ncannot determine precisely what end is sufficient, in the view of God,\nfor enabling a person to work a miracle, except so far as we learn this\nby induction and the evidence of facts which are proved. Mr. Buckley\naffirms positively that the end of miracles was solely the authentication\nof the divine legation of Christ and his forerunners in the mission of\nmaking known the divine revelation. Consequently from this assumption, he\nasserts that miracles ceased very early in the history of Christianity.\nHe also professes to have \u201cshown, by the proof of facts, that miracles\nhave ceased. If the great Reformation in Germany, Switzerland, and\nScotland, if Methodism, had no miracles; if the missionaries of the\nCross [_i.e._, Protestant] are powerless to work them; and if the best\nmen and women of all branches of the [Protestant] church are without\nthis power, then indeed must they have ceased.\u201d No one will dispute\nthe logical sequence or material truth of this conclusion, so far as\nit does not extend beyond its own premises. He has made it, however,\na general conclusion, and promises to prove it by \u201cconclusive and\nirresistible proof.\u201d He is therefore bound to prove that miracles had\nceased from an early epoch in the universal church, including the whole\nperiod before the XVIth century, and in respect to all Christian bodies\nexcept Protestants from that time to the present. In respect to the\nformer period, his whole proof consists in a statement that no person of\ncandor and judgment who has read the ante-Nicene fathers will conclude\nit probable that miracles continued much beyond the beginning of the IId\ncentury, and in the assertion \u201cthat they have ceased we have proved to a\ndemonstration.\u201d In respect to supposed miracles during the latter period\nin the Catholic Church, the proof that none of them are true miracles is\ncontained in the statement that \u201cthe opinion of the Protestant world is\nsettled\u201d on that head. Very good, Mr. Buckley! Such logical accuracy,\nunited with the intuitive insight of genius, is a conclusive proof that\nthe \u201cassistances which our age enjoys\u201d have amazingly shortened and\nsimplified the tedious processes by which \u201cthat indigested heap and\nfry of authors which they call antiquity\u201d were obliged to investigate\ntruth and acquire knowledge. The reverend gentleman tells us that \u201cI\nhave for some years past been reading, as I have found leisure, that\nmagnificent translation of the ante-Nicene fathers published by T. & T.\nClark, of Edinburgh, in about twenty five volumes. To say that I have\nbeen astonished is to speak feebly.\u201d Probably the astonishment of Origen,\nJustin Martyr, and Iren\u00e6us would be no less, and would be more forcibly\nexpressed, if they could resume their earthly life and peruse the\nremarkable address before us. If its author will read the account of the\nmiracles of SS. Gervasius and Protasius given by S. Ambrose, the _City\nof God_ of S. Augustine, the _Ecclesiastical History_ of Ven. Bede, and\nDr. Newman\u2019s _Essay on Ecclesiastical Miracles_, we can promise him that\nhe will experience a still greater degree of astonishment than he did\non the perusal of the ante-Nicene fathers. Mr. Buckley appears to be in\n_bona fide_, and is probably a much better man than many whose knowledge\nis more extensive. The hallucination of mind which produces in him the\nbelief that he stands on a higher intellectual plane than Clement of\nAlexandria and Cyprian in ancient times, or Petavius, Kleutgen, Bayma,\nand \u201cJesuits\u201d in general, is so simply astounding, and the credulity\nrequisite to a firm assent to his own statements as \u201cdemonstrations\u201d is\nso much beyond that which was, in the olden time, shown by believing\nin the \u201cph\u0153nix,\u201d that he must be sincere, though very much in need of\ninformation. We cannot help feeling that he is worthy of knowing better,\nand would be convinced of the truth if it were set before him fairly.\nIt is plain that he has no knowledge of the evidence which exists of\na series of miracles wrought in the Catholic Church continuously from\nthe times of the apostles to our own day, and which cannot be rejected\nwithout subverting the evidence on which the truth of all miracles\nwhatsoever is based. The number of these which are considered by prudent\nCatholic writers to be quite certain or probable is beyond reckoning,\nthough still very small in comparison with ordinary events and the\nexperiences of the whole number of Catholics in all ages. Those of the\nmost extraordinary magnitude are relatively much fewer in number than\nthose which are less wonderful, as, for instance, the raising of the\ndead to life. Nevertheless, there are instances of this kind--_e.g._,\nthose related of S. Dominic, S. Bernard, S. Teresa, and S. Francis\nXavier--which, to say the least, have a _prim\u00e2 facie_ probability. One\nof another kind is the perpetually-recurring miracle of the liquefaction\nof the blood of S. Januarius. The miraculous and complete cure of Mrs.\nMattingly, of Washington, is an instance which occurred in our own\ncountry, and which, among many other intelligent Protestants, John C.\nCalhoun considered as most undoubtedly effected by miraculous agency. We\nmention one more only--the restoration of the destroyed vision of one eye\nby the application of the water of Lourdes, in the case of Bourriette,\nas related by M. Lasserre. We are rather more cautious in professing to\nhave demonstrated the continuance of miracles than our reverend friend\nhas been in respect to the contrary. We profess merely to show that his\ndemonstration requires a serious refutation of the arguments in favor of\nthe proposition he denies, and to bring forward some considerations in\nproof of the title which these arguments have to a respectful and candid\nexamination. Moreover, though we cannot pretend to prove anything, _hic\net nunc_, by conclusive evidence and reasoning, we refer to the articles\non the miracle of S. Januarius, and to the translation of M. Lasserre\u2019s\nbook, in our own pages, as containing evidence for two of the instances\nalluded to, and to the works of Bishop England for the evidence in Mrs.\nMattingly\u2019s case.\n\nBesides those supernatural effects or events which can only be produced\nby a divine power acting immediately on the subject, there are other\nmarvellous effects which in themselves require only a supermundane\npower, and are merely preternatural, using nature in the sense which\nexcludes all beyond our own world and our human nature. Other unusual\nevents, again, may appear to be preternatural, but may be proved, or\nreasonably conjectured, to proceed from a merely natural cause. Here is\na debatable land, where the truth is attainable with more difficulty,\ngenerally with less certainty, and where there is abundant chance for\nunreasonable credulity and equally unreasonable scepticism to lose their\nway in opposite directions. Mr. Buckley summarily refers all the strange\nphenomena to be found among pagan religions to jugglery and fanaticism.\nSpiritism he dismisses without a word of comment, implying that he\nconsiders it to be in no sense preternatural. We differ from him in\nopinion in respect to this point also. We have no doubt that many alleged\ninstances of preternatural events are to be explained by natural causes,\nand many others by jugglery and imposture. We cannot, for ourselves,\nfind a reasonable explanation of a certain number of well-proved facts\nin regard to both paganism and spiritism, except on the hypothesis of\npreternatural agency. The nature of that agency cannot be determined\nwithout recurring to theological science. Catholic theology determines\nsuch cases by referring them to the agency of demons. Mr. Buckley is\nafraid to admit that the alleged \u201cmiracles were real and wrought by\ndevils.\u201d \u201cIf so,\u201d he continues, \u201cwe may ask, in the language of Job,\nWhere and what is God?\u201d We answer to this that God does not permit demons\nto deceive men to such an extent as to cause the ruin of their souls,\nexcept through their own wilful and culpable submission to these deceits.\nIt makes no difference whether the delusion produced is referred to\njugglery or demonology in respect to this particular question.\n\n    THE FORMATION OF CHRISTENDOM. Part Third. By T. W. Allies.\n    London: Longmans & Co. 1875.\n\nMr. Allies dedicates this volume, in very beautiful and appropriate\nterms, to Dr. Newman, who, he says in classic and graceful phrase,\nhaving once been \u201cthe Hector of a doomed Troy,\u201d is now \u201cthe Achilles\nof the city of God.\u201d The particular topic of the book is the relation\nof Greek philosophy to the Christian church. A remarkable chapter on\nthe foundation of the Roman Church, in which great use is made of the\ndiscoveries of arch\u00e6ologists, precedes the treatment of the Neostoic,\nNeopythagorean, and Neoplatonic schools, with cognate topics. One of\nthe most interesting and novel chapters is that on Apollonius of Tyana,\nwhose wonderful life, as related by Philostratus, the author regards as\na philosophic and anti-Christian myth invented by the above-mentioned\npagan writer, with only a slight basis of historical truth. Mr. Allies\nhas studied the deep, thoughtful works of those German authors who\ngive a truly intelligent and connected history of philosophy, and his\nwork is a valuable contribution to that branch of science, as well as\nto the history of Christianity. One of the most irresistible proofs of\nthe divine mission and divine personality of Jesus Christ lies in the\nblending of the elements of Hellenic genius and culture, Jewish faith,\nand Roman law into a new composite, by a new form, when he founded his\nuniversal kingdom. A mere man, by his own natural power, and under the\ncircumstances in which he lived, could not have conceived such an idea,\nmuch less have carried it into execution. The most ineffably stupid, as\nwell as atrociously wicked, of all impostors and philosophical charlatans\nare those apostate Christians who strive to drag Christianity down to\nthe level of the pagan systems of religion and philosophy, and reduce\nit to a mere natural phenomenon. Mr. Allies shows this in a work which\ncombines erudition with a grace of style formed on classic models, and\nan enlightened, fervent Catholic spirit, imbibed from the fathers and\ndoctors of the church. At a time when the popular philosophy is decked\nin false hair and mock-jewels, as a stage-queen, it is cheering to find\nhere and there a votary of that genuine philosophy whose beauty is native\nand real, and who willingly proclaims her own subjection and inferiority\nby humbly saying, _Ecce ancilla Domini_.\n\n    THE AMERICAN CATHOLIC QUARTERLY REVIEW. Vol. I. No. 1. January,\n    1876. Philadelphia: Hardy & Mahony.\n\nA very large number of the most highly gifted and learned Catholics\nthroughout Christendom, both clergymen and laymen, are at present\nemployed in writing for the reviews of various classes which have existed\nfor a greater or lesser period of time within the present century. Much\nof the very best literature of the age is to be found in their articles,\nand a very considerable part of this is of permanent value. In solid\nmerit of matter and style, and in adaptation to the wants of the time,\nthe best of these periodicals have improved steadily, and we may say\nof some of them that they hardly admit of any farther progress. The\nadvantage of such periodicals is not only very great for their readers,\nbut almost equally so for those who are engaged in contributing to their\ncontents. The effort and practice of writing constantly for the public\nreact upon the writers. Each one is encouraged and instructed in the\nmost useful and effective method of directing his studies and giving\nverbal expression to their results, so as to attain the practical end\nhe has in view--that of disseminating and diffusing knowledge over as\nwide an extent as possible. The combination of various writers, each\nhaving one or more specialties, under a competent editorial direction\nsecures variety and versatility without prejudice to unity, and corrects\nthe excesses or defects of individuality without checking originality,\nthus giving to the resulting work in some respects a superiority over\nthat which is the product of one single mind, unless that mind possesses\nthe gifts and acquisitions in _modo eminenti_ which are usually found\ndivided among a number of different persons. To conduct a review alone\nis a herculean task, and Dr. Brownson has accomplished a work which is\nreally astonishing in maintaining, almost by unaided effort, through so\nmany years, a periodical of the high rank accorded by common consent to\nthe one which bore his name and will be his perpetual monument. That, at\nthe present juncture, a new review is necessary and has a fine field open\nbefore it; that in its management ecclesiastical direction and episcopal\ncontrol are requisite for adequate security and weight with the Catholic\npublic; and that full opportunity for efficient co-operation on the part\nof laymen of talent and education is most desirable, cannot admit of a\nmoment\u2019s doubt. It is therefore a matter of heart-felt congratulation\nthat the favorable moment has been so promptly seized and the vacant\nplace so quickly occupied by the gentlemen who have undertaken the\nediting and the publishing of the _American Catholic Quarterly_. It is\nprobably known to most, if not all, of our readers that the editors are\nDr. Corcoran, professor in the Ecclesiastical Seminary of Philadelphia;\nDr. O\u2019Connor, the rector of that institution; and Mr. Wolff, who has\nlong and ably edited the Philadelphia _Catholic Standard_. It would be\ndifficult to find in the United States an equally competent triad. The\npublishers, who have already the experience acquired by the management\nof a literary magazine and a newspaper, will, we may reasonably hope,\nbe able to sustain the financial burden of this greater undertaking\nin a successful manner, if they receive the support which they have a\nright to expect, by means of their subscription list. The first number\nof the new review presents a typographical face which is quite peculiar\nto itself and decidedly attractive. Its contents, besides articles from\neach of the editors, are composed of contributions from three clergymen\nand two laymen, embracing a considerable variety of topics. The clerical\ncontributors are the Right Reverend Bishops Lynch and Becker, and the\nRev. Drs. Corcoran, O\u2019Connor, and McGlynn. The lay contributors are Dr.\nBrownson, John Gilmary Shea, and Mr. Wolff. The names of F. Th\u00e9baud,\nDr. Marshall, and General Gibbon are among those announced for the\nnext number. We extend a cordial greeting with our best wishes to the\n_American Catholic Quarterly Review_.\n\n    MANUAL OF CATHOLIC INDIAN MISSIONARY ASSOCIATIONS.\n\nThe Indian question continues to be one of the most troublesome in our\nnational politics. Its only real solution--and we believe this to be\nPresident Grant\u2019s opinion--is to Christianize the Indians. The task is\nundoubtedly a hard one, but it would be far less so if wolves in sheep\u2019s\nclothing had not been sent among them. The only successful attempt at\ncivilizing the Indians has been made by Catholic missionaries. But under\nthe administration of the Indian Bureau, the utter rottenness of which\nhas been so recently exposed, missions and reservations have been thrown\nto this religious agency and that without the slightest regard for the\nwishes of those who, it is to be supposed, were most to be benefited by\nthe operation--the Indians themselves. In this way flourishing Catholic\nmissions were turned over to the Methodist or other denominations, and\nthe representations of the missionaries, as well as of the chiefs and\ntribes themselves, were of no avail whatever to alter so iniquitous\na proceeding. This little manual gives a brief sketch of the status\nof Catholic Indians and working of the Bureau of Indian Missions. It\ncontains also an earnest appeal to the Catholic ladies of the United\nStates from the \u201cLadies\u2019 Catholic Indian Missionary Association of\nWashington, D. C.,\u201d urging contributions and the formation of similar\nassociations throughout the country to aid in sustaining the Catholic\nIndian missions.\n\n\nA CORRECTION.\n\nTO THE EDITOR OF THE CATHOLIC WORLD:\n\nI have just received, through the Catholic Publication Society, the\nfollowing card from Mr. Gladstone:\n\n    \u201cMr. Gladstone desires to send with his compliments his thanks\n    to the Society for a copy, which he has received, of Dr.\n    Clarke\u2019s interesting paper on _Maryland Toleration_. Having\n    simply cited his authorities, and used them, as he thinks,\n    fairly, he will be glad to learn, if he can, the manner in\n    which they meet the challenge conveyed in the latter portion of\n    this paper. Mr. Gladstone\u2019s present object is to say he would\n    be greatly obliged by a _reference_ to enable him to trace the\n    \u201cirreverent words\u201d imputed to him on page 6, as his _Vatican\n    Decrees_ have no page 83, and he is not aware of having penned\n    such a passage.\n\n    \u201c4 CARLTON GARDENS, LONDON, Jan. 24, 1856.\u201d\n\nMr. Gladstone is right in disclaiming the words imputed to him in this\ninstance. They are, on investigation, found to be the words of the\nRev. Dr. Schaff. The Messrs. Harper, the American publishers of Mr.\nGladstone\u2019s tracts, are largely responsible for the mistake, by having\ninserted in their publication a tract of Dr. Schaff, paged in common, and\nall covered by the outside title of \u201c_Rome and the Newest Fashions in\nReligion. Gladstone_,\u201d and by the title-page giving the authorship \u201cBy\nthe Right Hon. W. E. Gladstone.\u201d To a writer making selections as needed\nfrom different portions of this book the mistake was easy and natural;\nand though the authorship of Dr. Schaff\u2019s _History of the Vatican\nDecrees_ containing the passage in question is given, it is not so given\nas easily to reach the eye, and is obscured by the introduction of Dr.\nSchaff\u2019s tract into a volume under Mr. Gladstone\u2019s name, and by paging\nDr. Schaff\u2019s _History_ in common with Mr. Gladstone\u2019s _Vaticanism_. On\npage 83 of _this_ publication of the Messrs. Harper the \u201cirreverent\nwords\u201d are found. I am only too much gratified at Mr. Gladstone\u2019s\ndisowning them, and hasten, on my part, to make this correction through\nyour columns, in which my reply to Mr. Gladstone on _Maryland Toleration_\nfirst appeared, and to beg his acceptance of this _amende honorable_.\n\n                                                          RICH. H. CLARKE\n\n51 CHAMBERS STREET, NEW YORK, February 10, 1876.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nIn a notice, which appeared in last month\u2019s CATHOLIC WORLD, of certain\nworks published by Herder, Freiburg, it was stated that the publications\nof that house are imported by the firm of Benziger Bros. Mr. Herder has\na branch house in St. Louis, Missouri, where all his publications may be\nprocured.\n\n\nPUBLICATIONS RECEIVED.\n\n    The First Annual Report of the New York Society for the\n    Prevention of Cruelty to Children.\n\n    Landreth\u2019s Rural Register and Almanac, 1876.\n\n\n\n\nFOOTNOTES\n\n\n[1] _Queen Mary_: A Drama. By Alfred Tennyson, D.C.L. Boston: J. R.\nOsgood & Co. 1875.\n\n[2] It is proper to state that the present criticism is not by the writer\nof the article on Mr. Tennyson in THE CATHOLIC WORLD for May, 1868.\n\n[3] The preceding article was ready for the printers before a copy fell\ninto our hands of _Mary Stuart_--a drama by Sir Aubrey de Vere--a poem\nwhich it had not been our good fortune to have read before. The public\nwould seem to have exhibited an appreciation of this work we should\nscarcely have expected from them, for it is, we believe, out of print.\nFor ourselves, we must say that for poetical conception, appreciation and\ndevelopment of the several personages of the drama, it appears to us to\nbe very much superior to _Queen Mary_.\n\n[4] The title of captal (from _capitalis_) was formerly a common one\namong Aquitaine lords, but was gradually laid aside. The Captals de Buch\nand Trente were the last to bear it.\n\n[5] In the Journal of the Sisters of Charity of that time we read:\n\n\u201cJan. 22.--M. Vincent arrived at eleven o\u2019clock in the evening, bringing\nus two children; one perhaps six days old, the other older. Both were\ncrying.\u2026\u201d\n\n\u201cJan. 25.--The streets are full of snow. We are expecting M. Vincent.\u201d\n\n\u201cJan. 26.--Poor M. Vincent is chilled through. He has brought us an\ninfant.\u2026\u201d\n\n\u201cFeb. 1.--The archbishop came to see us. We are in great need of public\ncharity! M. Vincent places no limit to his ardent love for poor children.\u201d\n\nAnd when their resources are exhausted, the saint makes the following\npathetic appeal to the patronesses: \u201cCompassion has led you to adopt\nthese little creatures as your own children. You are their mothers\naccording to grace, as their mothers by nature have abandoned them.\nWill you also abandon them in your turn? Their life and death are in\nyour hands. I am going to take your vote on the point. The charity you\ngive or refuse is a terrible decision in your hands. It is time to\npronounce their sentence, and learn if you will no longer have pity on\nthem.\u201d--_Sermon of S. Vincent to the Ladies of Charity_ in 1648.\n\n[6] _The Earl of Castlehaven\u2019s Review_; or, His Memoirs of His Engagement\nand Carriage in the Irish Wars. Enlarged and corrected. With an Appendix\nand Postscript. London: Printed for Charles Brome at the Gun in St.\nPaul\u2019s Churchyard. 1684.\n\n[7] This was the title given at one time by the French courtiers to\nFrederick I.\n\n[8] Their first condition for a suspension of arms was a payment to\nthem of \u00a325,000 per month. These were in large part the same forces who\nafterwards sold their fugitive king for so many pounds sterling to the\nParliament, violating the rights of sanctuary and hospitality, held\nsacred by the most barbarous races. It is curious to observe the supreme\nboldness with which Macaulay and the popular writers of the radical\nschool essay to gloss over the dishonorable transactions affecting the\nparliamentary side in this contest between the King and Commons. The\nveriest dastards become heroes; and the first canting cut-throat is safe\nto be made a martyr of in their pages for conscience\u2019 sake and the rights\nof man.\n\n[9] _Apol. vii._\n\n[10] _Fundam. Phil._ lib. vii. c. 7.\n\n[11] _Phil. Fundam._ lib. vii. c. 7.\n\n[12] Italian proverb: \u201cIf not true, it deserves to be true.\u201d\n\n[13] Written during the Pope\u2019s exile, 1848\n\n[14] _The Secret Warfare of Freemasonry against the Church and State._\nTranslated from the German, with an Introduction. London: Burns, Oates &\nCo. 1875. (New York: The Catholic Publication Society.)\n\n[15] S. Mark xiii. 22.\n\n[16] \u201cVos ergo videte; ecce, pr\u00e6dixi vobis omnia.\u201d--Ib. 23.\n\n[17] \u201cVidete, vigilate, et orate: nescitis enim, quando tempus sit.\u201d--Ib.\n33.\n\n[18] \u201cVigilate ergo \u2026 ne, cum venerit repente, inveniat vos\ndormientes.\u201d--Ib. 35, 36.\n\n[19] \u201cQuod autem vobis dico, omnibus dico: Vigilate!\u201d--Ib. 37.\n\n[20] \u201cSine parabola autem non loquebatur eis; seorsum autem discipulis\nsuis disserebat omnia.\u201d--S. Mark iv. 34.\n\n[21] \u201cVobis datum est nosse mysterium regni Dei: illis autem, qui foris\nsunt, in parabolis omnia fiunt.\u201d--Ib. 11.\n\n[22] \u201cNescitis parabolam hanc; et quomodo omnes parabolas\ncognoscetis.\u201d--Ib. 13.\n\n[23] \u201cNisi venerit discessio primum, et revelatus fuerit homo peccati,\nfilius perditionis, qui adversatur et extollitur supra omne, quod\ndicitur Deus, aut quod colitur ita ut in templo Dei sedeat, ostendens\nse, tamquam sit Deus.\u2026 Et nunc quid detineat, scitis, ut reveletur in\nsuo tempore. Nam mysterium jam operatur iniquitatis, tantum ut qui tenet\nnunc, teneat, donec de medio fiat. Et tunc revelabitur ille iniquus (\u1f41\n\u03ac\u03bd\u03bf\u03bc\u03bf\u03c2), quem Dominus Jesus interficiet spiritu oris sui, et destruet\nillustratione adventus sui cum; cujus est adventus secundum operationem\nSatan\u00e6 in omni virtute, et signis et prodigiis mendacibus, et in omni\nseductione iniquitatis iis, qui pereunt; eo quod caritatem veritatis non\nreceperunt, ut salvi fierent. Ideo mittet illis Deus operationem erroris,\nut credant mendacio, ut judicentur omnes, qui non crediderunt veritati,\nsed consenserunt iniquitati.\u201d--2 Thess. ii. 3-11.\n\n[24] \u201cSpiritus autem manifeste dicit, quia in novissimis temporibus\ndiscedent quidam a fide, attendentes spiritibus erroris et doctrinis\nd\u00e6moniorum; in hypocrisi loquentium mendacium, et cauteriatam habentium\nsuam conscientiam.\u201d--1 Tim. iv. 1, 2.\n\n[25] \u201cHoc autem scito, quod in novissimis diebus instabunt tempora\npericulosa: erunt homines seipsos amantes, cupidi, elati, superbi,\nblasphemi, parentibus non obedientes, ingrati, scelesti, sine affectione,\nsine pace, criminatores, incontinentes, immites sine benignitate,\nproditores, protervi, timidi, et voluptatum amatores magis quam Dei,\nhabentes speciem quidem pietatis, virtutem autem ejus abnegantes.\u201d--2\nTim. iii. 1-5.\n\n[26] \u201cVenient in novissimis diebus in deceptione illusores, juxta\nproprias concupiscentias ambulantes.\u201d--2 Peter iii. 3.\n\n[27] \u201cIn novissimo tempore venient illusores, secundum, desideria sua\nambulantes in impietatibus. Hi sunt, qui segregant semetipsos, animales,\nSpiritum non habentes.\u201d--S. Jud. 18, 19.\n\n[28] \u201cFilioli, novissima hora est, et sicut audistis, quia Antichristus\nvenit, et nunc Antichristi multi facti sunt: unde scimus, quia novissima\nhora est.\u2026 Hic est Antichristus qui negat Patrem et Filium.\u201d--1 S. John\nii. 18, 22.\n\n[29] \u201cEt omnis spiritus qui solvit Jesum, ex Deo non est; et hic est\nAntichristus, de quo audistis, quoniam venit, et nunc jam in mundo\nest.\u201d--Ib. iv. 3.\n\n[30] \u201cSi quis habet aurem, audiat.\u201d--Apoc. xiii. 9.\n\n[31] \u201cHic sapientia est. Qui habet intellectum computet numerum\nbesti\u00e6.\u201d--Ib. 18\n\n[32] _Histoire de la R\u00e9volution Fran\u00e7aise_, v. ii. c. 3.\n\n[33] _The Secret Warfare of Freemasonry_, p. 123.\n\n[34] Ibid. 124.\n\n[35] Those in this country who respect religion, law, and the peace of\nsociety should not be imposed upon by the aspect of Freemasonry here.\nThe principles and modes of acting of the society are those we have\ndescribed. The application of them depends wholly on time, place, and\ncircumstances. The ordinary observer sees nothing in the members of\nthe craft here but a number of inoffensive individuals, who belong to\na _soi-disant_ benevolent association which, by means of secret signs,\nenables them to get out of the clutches of the law, procure employment\nand office, and obtain other advantages not possessed by the rest of\ntheir fellow-citizens. But then the innocent rank and file are the dead\nweight which the society employs, on occasion, to aid in compassing its\nulterior designs. Here there are no civil or religious institutions\nwhich stand in their way, and their mode of action is to sap and mine\nthe morals of the community, on which society rests, and with which it\nmust perish. Of what it is capable, if it seems needful to compassing its\nends, any one may understand by the fiendish murder of William Morgan.\nThis murder was decided on at a lodge-meeting directed by Freemason\nofficials, _in pursuance of the rules of the craft_, and was perpetrated\nby Freemasons bearing a respectable character, who had never before been\nguilty of a criminal action, who were known, yet were never punished\nnor even tried, but died a natural death, and who do not appear to have\nexperienced any loss of reputation for their foul deed. (See Mr. Thurlow\nWeed\u2019s recent letter to the New York _Herald_.)\n\n[36] Before we proceed to expose the even yet more hideous loathsomeness\nof this vile association, a few words of explanation are necessary.\nIn all we write we have in view an organization--its constitution and\nmotives--and that only. The individual responsibility of its several\nmembers is a matter for their own conscience; it is no affair of ours.\nWe believe that the bulk of the association, all up to the thirtieth\ndegree, or \u201cKnights of the White Eagle,\u201d or \u201cKadosch,\u201d are in complete\nignorance of the hellish criminality of its objects. Even the Rosicrucian\nhas something to learn; although to have become that he must have\nstamped himself with the mark of Antichrist by the abandonment of his\nbelief in Christ and in all revealed religion. But the vast majority,\nwhose numbers, influence, and respectability the dark leaders use for\nthe furtherance of their monstrous designs, live and die in complete\nignorance of the real objects and principles of the craft. We ourselves\nknow an instance of an individual, now reconciled to the church, who was\nonce a Master Mason, and who to this moment is in utter ignorance of\nthem. They are sedulously concealed from all who have not dispossessed\nthemselves of the \u201cprejudices of religion and morality.\u201d The author\nof the work to which we are indebted for almost all our documentary\nevidence mentions the case of one who had advanced to the high grade\nof Rosicrucian, but who, not until he was initiated into the grade\nof Kadosch, was completely stunned and horrified by the demoniacal\ndisclosures poured into his ears. Most of the Freemasons, however, have\njoined the body as a mere philanthropic institution, or on the lower\nmotive of self-interest. Nor is it possible to convince these people of\nthe fearful consequences to which they are contributing. Of course, but\nfew of these, it is to be hoped, are involved in the full guilt of the\n\u201ccraft.\u201d Every Catholic who belongs to it is in mortal sin. For the rest,\nwe cannot but hope and believe that an overwhelming majority are innocent\nof any sinister motives. But it is impossible to exonerate them entirely.\nFor, first, the \u201ccraft\u201d is now pursuing its operations with such\nunblushing effrontery that it is difficult for any but illiterate people\nto plead entire ignorance; and next, no one can, without moral guilt,\nbind himself by terrible oaths, for the breaking of which he consents to\nbe assassinated, to keep inviolable secrets with the nature of which he\nis previously unacquainted. It cannot but be to his everlasting peril\nthat any one permits himself to be branded with this \u201cmark of the beast.\u201d\n\n[37] _Secret Warfare of Freemasonry_, pp. 51, 52.\n\n[38] Ib. p. 65.\n\n[39] Ib. 207.\n\n[40] Ib. pp. 196-8.\n\n[41] This journal, at the time of the first initiation of the Prince of\nWales into the \u201ccraft,\u201d in an article on that event, heaped contempt\nand ridicule on the whole affair. A recent article on the young man\u2019s\ninitiation as Master may satisfy the most exacting Mason.\n\n[42] The writer refers to the highest grades.\n\n[43] _Secret Warfare of Freemasonry_, pp. 232, 233.\n\n[44] _Utopia._ By Sir Thomas More.\n\n[45] A sort of divan, not unusual in the East at the present day. The\nsultan, when receiving a visit of ceremony, sits on a sort of sofa or\npost-bed. Traces of it were also found in the \u201cpalaces\u201d of Ashantec.\n\n[46] \u201cThe new spirit made its appearance in the world about the XVIth\ncentury. Its end is to substitute a new society for that of the Middle\nAges. Hence the necessity that the first modern revolution should be a\nreligious one.\u2026 It was Germany and Luther that produced it.\u201d--Cousin,\n_Cours d\u2019hist. de la philos._, p. 7, Paris, 1841.\n\n[47] \u201cNon a pr\u00e6toris edicto, ut plerique nunc, neque a duo decim Tabulis,\nut superiores, sed penitus ex intima philosophia haurienda est juris\ndisciplina.\u201d--Cic., _De legib._ lib. i.\n\n[48] Cic., _de fin. bon. et malor._ i. 11.\n\n[49] Plato, _Des lois_, liv. i.\n\n[50] \u201cIllud stultissimum (est), existimare omnia justa esse, qu\u00e6 scripta\nsint in populorum institutis et legibus.\u201d--_De legibus._\n\n[51] \u201cNeque opinione sed natura constitutum esse jus.\u201d--Ibid.\n\n[52] \u201cS\u00e6culis omnibus ante nata est, (ante) quam scripta lex ulla, aut\nquam omnino civitas constituta.\u201d--Ibid.\n\n[53] \u201cQuidam corum qu\u00e6dam magna, _quantum divinitus adjuti sunt_,\ninvenerunt.\u201d--S. Aug., _Civit. Dei_, i. ii. c. 7.\n\n\u201cHas scientias dederunt philosophi et illustrati sunt; Deus enim illis\n_revelavit_.\u201d--S. Bonavent., _Lum. Eccl._, Serm. 5.\n\n[54] The two following paragraphs are taken freely from the treatise _De\nlegibus_, passim.\n\n[55] The following paragraph is also taken from Cicero.\n\n[56] \u201cErat lux vera qu\u00e6 illuminat omnem hominem venientem in hunc\nmundum.\u201d--S. Joan., i. 9.\n\n[57] \u201cEt vita erat lux hominum \u2026 in tenebris lucet, et tenebr\u00e6 eam non\ncomprehenderunt.\u201d--Id.\n\n[58] _Cont. gent._ iv. 13.\n\n[59] V. Lassalle, _Das System der erworbenen Rechte_, i. 2, not. \u00e0 la\npag. 70.\n\n[60] _Considerat. sur la France._\n\n[61] _Arbeiter Programm._, v. Ferd. Lassalle.\n\n[62] _Du suffrage universel et de la mani\u00e8re de voter._ Par H. Taine.\nParis: Hachette, 1872.\n\n[63] Bergier, after Tertullian.\n\n[64] De Maistre, _Princip. g\u00e9n\u00e9rat._\n\n[65] _Reflections on the Revolution in France._\n\n[66] _Corresp. entre le Comte de Mirabeau et le Comte de la Marck._\nParis: Le Normant. 1851.\n\n[67] _Politique._ l. i. c.\n\n[68] _De civit. Dei._ 19.\n\n[69] _De rebus publ. et princip. institut._, l. iii. c. 9.\n\n[70] _Reflections on the French Revolution._\n\n[71] \u201cUniversa propter semetipsum operatus est Dominus.\u201d--Proverbs xvi. 4.\n\n[72] _Polit._, vii. 2.\n\n[73] Id. ibid. c. 1.\n\n[74] Aristotle knew no other state than the city.\n\n[75] Isaias xxxiii. See also the words of Jesus to Pilate: \u201cTu dicis quia\nRex ego sum.\u201d\n\n[76] \u201cDabo legem in visceribus eorum.\u201d--Jer. xxxi.\n\n[77] _Viri protestantici ad summum Pontificem appellatio._--Londini,\nWyman et fil, 1869.\n\n[78] M. Em. Montaigut, in the _Revue des Deux Mondes_.\n\n[79] M. Le Play.\n\n[80] De Maistre, _Considerat. sur la France_.\n\n[81] _Fundam. Phil._, book vii. ch. 6.\n\n[82] Sicut punctum se habet ad lineam, ita se habet nunc ad tempus.\nSi imaginemur punctum quiescere, non poterimus imaginari ipsum esse\ncausam line\u00e6: si vero imaginemur ipsum moveri, licet in ipso nulla sit\ndimensio, nec aliqua divisio per consequens, per naturam tamen motus sui\nrelinquitur aliquid divisibile.\u2026 Illud tamen punctum non est de line\u00e6\nessentia; quia nihil unum et idem realiter omnimodis indivisibile potest\nsimul in diversis partibus ejusdem continui permanentis esse.\u2026 Punctum\nergo mathematice imaginatum, quod motu suo causat lineam, necessario\nnihil line\u00e6 erit: sed erit unum secundum rem, et diversum secundum\nrationem; et h\u00e6c diversitas, qu\u00e6 consistit in motu suo, realiter est in\nlinea, non identitas sua secundum rem.\u2026 Eodem vero modo instans, quod est\nmensura mobilis sequens ipsum, est unum secundum rem, quum nihil pereat\nde substantia ipsius mobilis, cuius instans est mensura inseparabilis,\nsed diversum et diversum secundum rationem. Et h\u00e6c ejus diversitas est\ntempus essentialiter.\n\n[83] Quia motus primus unus est, tempus est unum, mensurans omnes motus\nsimul actos.--Opusc. 44, _De tempore_, c. 2.\n\n[84] Stans et movens se non videntur differre secundum substantiam,\nsed solum secundum rationem. Nunc autem \u00e6ternitatis est stans, et nunc\ntemporis fluens; quare non videntur differre nisi ratione sola--_De\ntempore_, c. 4.\n\n[85] Ista non possunt habere veritatem secundum ea, qu\u00e6 determinata sunt.\nVisum est enim, quod \u00e6ternitas et tempus essentialiter differunt. Item\nqu\u00e6cumque se habent ut causa et causatum, essentialiter differunt; nunc\nautem \u00e6ternitatis, quum non differat ab \u00e6ternitate nisi sola ratione,\nest causa temporis, et nunc ipsius, ut dictum est. Quare nunc temporis\net nunc \u00e6ternitatis essentialiter differunt. Pr\u00e6terea nunc temporis\nest continuativum pr\u00e6teriti cum futuro; nunc autem \u00e6ternitatis non est\ncontinuativum pr\u00e6teriti cum futuro, quia in \u00e6ternitate non est prius\nnec posterius, nec pr\u00e6teritum, nec futurum, sed tota \u00e6ternitas est tota\nsimul. Nec valet ratio in oppositum, quum dicitur quod stans et fluens\nnon differunt per essentiam. Verum est in omni eo quod contingit stare\net fluens esse; tamen stans quod nullo modo contingit fluere, et fluens,\nquod nullo modo contingit stare, differunt per essentiam. Talia autem\nsunt nunc \u00e6ternitatis, et nunc temporis.--Ibid.\n\n[86] _Summa Theol._, p. 1, q. 46, a. 2.\n\n[87] Novitas mundi non potest demonstrationem recipere ex parte ipsius\nmundi. Demonstrationis enim principium est quod quid est. Unumquodque\nautem secundum rationem su\u00e6 speciei abstrahit ab hic et nunc; propter\nquod dicitur quod universalia sunt ubique et semper. Unde demonstrari non\npotest quod homo, aut c\u0153lum, aut lapis non semper fuit.--Ibid.\n\n[88] Sicut enim si pes ab \u00e6ternitate semper fuisset in pulvere, semper\nsubesset vestigium, quod a calcante factum nemo dubitaret, sic et mundus\nsemper fuit, semper existente qui fecit.--Ibid.\n\n[89] Et hoc utile est ut consideretur, ne forte aliquis quod fidei est\ndemonstrare pr\u00e6sumens rationes non necessarias inducat, qu\u00e6 pr\u00e6beant\nmateriam irridendi infidelibus existimantibus nos propter eiusmodi\nrationes credere qu\u00e6 fidei sunt.--Ibid.\n\n[90] Uno modo dicitur \u00e6ternitas mensura durationis rei semper similiter\nse habentis, nihil acquirentis in futuro et nihil amittentis in pr\u00e6terito\net sic propriissime sumitur \u00e6ternitas. Secundo modo dicitur \u00e6ternitas\nmensura durationis rei habentis esse fixum et stabile, recipientis\ntamen vices in operationibus suis; et \u00e6ternitas sic accepta propria\ndicitur \u00e6vum: \u00e6vum enim est mensura eorum, quorum esse est stabile,\nqu\u00e6 tamen habent successionem in operibus suis, sicut intelligenti\u00e6.\nTertio modo dicitur \u00e6ternitas mensura durationis successiv\u00e6 habentis\nprius et posterius, carentis tamen principio et fine, vel carentis fine\net tamen habentis principium; et utroque modo ponitur mundus \u00e6ternus,\nlicet secundum veritatem sit temporalis: et ista impropriissime dicitur\n\u00e6ternitas; rationi enim \u00e6ternitatis repugnat prius et posterius.--Opusc.,\n_De tempore_, c. 4.\n\n[91] See THE CATHOLIC WORLD, May, 1875, page 234 et seq.\n\n[92] Deus aut prior est mundo natura tantum, aut et duratione. Si natura\ntantum; ergo quum Deus sit ab \u00e6terno, et mundus est ab \u00e6terno. Si autem\nest prior duratione, prius autem et posterius in duratione constituunt\ntempus; ergo ante mundum fuit tempus: quod est impossibile.--_Summa\nTheol._, p. 1, q. 46, a. 1.\n\n[93] Deus est prior mundo duratione: sed per prius non designat\nprioritatem temporis, sed \u00e6ternitatis. Vel dicendum, quod designat\nprioritatem temporis imaginati, et non realiter existentis; sicut quum\ndicitur: supra c\u0153lum nihil est, per _supra_ designat locum imaginarium\ntantum, secundum quod possibile est imaginari dimensionibus c\u00e6lestis\ncorporis dimensiones alias superaddi.--Ibid.\n\n[94] _Fundam. Philos._, book vii. ch. 10.\n\n[95] See THE CATHOLIC WORLD, November, 1874, p. 272, and January, 1875,\np. 487.\n\n[96] A new interest attaches to this church, in the eyes of American\nCatholics, since it has been made the Title of the Cardinal-Archbishop of\nNew York.\n\n[97] There is a vague tradition among the Penobscot Indians in Maine\nthat a Jesuit father crossed from the head-waters of the Kennebec to the\nvalley of the Passumpsic, east of the Green Mountains, at an earlier date.\n\n[98] _Hist. Maryland_, vol. ii. p. 352.\n\n[99] _History United States_, vol. i. p. 238.\n\n[100] Id. p. 241.\n\n[101] Id. p. 244.\n\n[102] Id. p. 247.\n\n[103] _History United States_, vol. i. p. 248.\n\n[104] Chalmers\u2019 _Annals_, vol. i. pp. 207, 208.\n\n[105] Story, _Com. on the Constitution_, sec. 107.\n\n[106] _Sketches of the Early History of Maryland_ by Thomas W. Griffith,\npp. 3, 4.\n\n[107] Bancroft, _Hist. U. S._, vol. i. p. 238.\n\n[108] _The Brit. Emp. in America_, vol. i. pp. 4, 5.\n\n[109] _Hist. Md._, p. 232.\n\n[110] Father Andrew White\u2019s _Narrative_, Md. Hist. Soc., 1874, p. 32.\n\n[111] _Sketches_, etc., p. 5.\n\n[112] Davis\u2019 _Day-Star of Am. Freedom_, p. 149.\n\n[113] _History of Maryland_, p. 24.\n\n[114] Bozman\u2019s _History of Maryland_, p. 109.\n\n[115] _History of United States_, vol. i. p. 241.\n\n[116] _History of Maryland_, p. 24.\n\n[117] _Maryland Toleration_, p. 36.\n\n[118] _History of Maryland_, p. 33.\n\n[119] _History of United States_, p. 257.\n\n[120] _Maryland Toleration_, p. 40.\n\n[121] _Day-Star of American Freedom_, p. 36.\n\n[122] _Day-Star of American Freedom_, p. 38.\n\n[123] _History of Maryland_, vol. ii. p. 85.\n\n[124] _History of the United States_, p. 252.\n\n[125] _Day-Star of American Freedom_, p. 138.\n\n[126] Rev. Ethan Allen says this continued until 1649, when Kent was\nerected into a county.--_Maryland Toleration_, p. 36.\n\n[127] _Day-Star of American Freedom_, p. 143.\n\n[128] Id. p. 160.\n\n[129] The document at length, with the signatures, is given in numerous\nhistories of Maryland, and will be found in Davis\u2019s _Day-Star of American\nFreedom_, p. 71.\n\n[130] Kent\u2019s _Commentaries on Am. Law_, vol. ii. pp. 36, 37.\n\n[131] Reprinted from advance sheets of _The Prose Works of William\nWordsworth_. Edited, with preface, notes, and illustrations, by the Rev.\nAlex. B. Grosart; now for the first time published, by Moxon, Son & Co.,\nLondon. These works will fill three volumes, embracing respectively the\npolitical and ethical, \u00e6sthetical and literary, critical and ethical,\nwritings of the author, and, what will interest American readers\nespecially, his Republican Defence.\n\n[132] Afterwards Father Faber of the Oratory. His \u201cSir Launcelot\u201d abounds\nin admirable descriptions.\n\n[133] \u201cFor us the stream of fiction ceased to flow,\u201d (dedicatory stanzas\nto \u201cThe White Doe of Rylstone\u201d).\n\n[134] See his sonnet on the seat of Dante, close to the Duomo at Florence\n(_Poems of Early and Late Years_).\n\n[135] \u201cEvening Voluntary.\u201d\n\n[136] _A Song of Faith, Devout Exercises, and Sonnets_ (Pickering). The\ndedication closed thus: \u201cI may at least hope to be named hereafter among\nthe friends of Wordsworth.\u201d\n\n[137] It may be well to remark here that in this century the word\n_domestic_ was familiarly used to designate one who was attached to the\nhouse and fortunes of another.\n\n[138] Mme. Louise, Duchess of Angoul\u00eame, and mother of Francis I.\n\n[139] By the statutes of pr\u00e6munire, all persons were forbidden to hold\nfrom Rome any _provision_ or power to exercise any authority without\npermission from the king, under penalty of placing themselves beyond his\nprotection and being severely punished.\n\n[140] Wolsey\u2019s customary designation of Anne Boleyn.\n\n[141] This corresponded to the court of marshalsea in England.\n\n[142] During the memorable conclave at which Pius IX. was elected, this\noffice was held by Monsignor Pallavicino, who caused to be struck,\naccording to his right, a number of bronze and silver medals with\nhis family arms quartering those of Gregory XVI. Above his prelate\u2019s\nhat on the obverse were the words _Sede Vacante_, and on the reverse\nthe inscription _Alerames ex marchionibus Pallavicino sacri palatii\napostolici pr\u00e6fectus et conclavis gubernator_ 1846.\n\n[143] It dates from the year 1535, when Paul III. permitted his majordomo\nBoccaferri to assume on his coat-of-arms, as an additament of honor (in\nthe language of blazonry), one of the lilies or _fleurs-de-lis_ of the\nFarnese family. If the subject prefer to do so, he may bear the Pope\u2019s\narms on a canton, carry them on an inescutcheon, or impale instead of\nquartering them.\n\n[144] While writing this, we hear of the elevation to the purple of the\nmajordomo Monsignor Pacca, whom we have had the honor, when a private\nchamberlain to the Pope, of knowing and of serving under. He was one of\nthe most popular prelates at the Vatican for his urbanity and attention\nto business. He is a patrician of the bluest blood of Beneventum and\nnephew to the celebrated Cardinal Pacca, so well known for his services\nto Pope Pius VII. and for his interesting _Memoirs_.\n\n[145] The grated prison for such offenders was a chamber deep down among\nthe vaults of the Cellarium Majus of the Lateran.\n\n[146] This office still exists, and is one of the important charges at\nthe papal court which is always held by a layman. It was hereditary in\nthe famous Conti family until its extinction in the last century, when it\npassed, after a considerable interval, on the same condition into that of\nRuspoli as the nearest representative of that ancient race.\n\n[147] Ambassadors and foreign ministers accredited to the Holy See claim\nthe right of presentation or of access through the Cardinal Secretary of\nState.\n\n[148] It is well to observe that briefs are not sealed with the\n_original_ ring, which does not go out of the keeper\u2019s custody except\nthe Pope demand it, but with a fac-simile preserved in the _Secreteria\nde Brevi_. Since June, 1842, red sealing-wax, because too brittle and\neffaceable, is no longer used; but in its stead a thick red ink, or\nrather pigment, is employed.\n\n[149] In England, by a similar fiction, the king (or queen) is imagined\nto preside in the Court of King\u2019s Bench.\n\n[150] The first convent of the Dominicans in Rome, at Santa Sabina on the\nAventine, was in part composed of a portion of the Savelli palace, in\nwhich Honorius, who belonged to this family, generally resided, so that\ntheir founder could not help remarking the misbehavior of the loungers\nabout the court. He did not go out of his way to find fault.\n\n[151] There was a somewhat similar office of very ancient institution\nat the imperial court of Constantinople, the holder of which was called\n_Epistomonarcha_.\n\n[152] Peter Filargo was a Greek from the island of Candia, which may\naccount for his love of what at a pontiff\u2019s table corresponded to the\nsymposium of the ancients--a species of after-dinner enjoyment, when,\nwine being introduced, philosophical or other agreeable subjects were\ndiscussed.\n\n[153] The special significance of this title given to Cardinal McCloskey\nis that his predecessor in the see of New York and its first bishop, Luke\nConcanen, who was consecrated in Rome on April 24, 1808, was a Dominican,\nand had been for a long time officially attached to the convent and\nchurch of the _Minerva_, which was the headquarters of his order.\n\n[154] See THE CATHOLIC WORLD, August, 1875, p. 625.\n\n[155] See THE CATHOLIC WORLD, September, 1874, p. 729.\n\n[156] THE CATHOLIC WORLD, March, 1874, p. 766.\n\n[157] See the two articles on \u201cSubstantial Generations\u201d in THE CATHOLIC\nWORLD, April and May, 1875.\n\n[158] See THE CATHOLIC WORLD for February, 1874, pp, 584. 585.\n\n[159] See THE CATHOLIC WORLD, May, 1874, p. 178.\n\n[160] In the Aristotelic theory, a third kind of movement, _ratione\ntermini_, was admitted--that is, movement towards dimensive quantity,\nas when an animal or a tree grows in bulk. But bodies acquire greater\nbulk by accession of new particles, and this accession is carried on by\n_local_ movement. Hence it seems to us that the _motus ad quantitatem_ is\nnot a new kind of movement.\n\n[161] S. Thomas explains this point in the following words: Quum\nmagnitudo sit divisibilis in infinitum, et puncta sint etiam infinita\nin potentia in qualibet magnitudine, sequitur quod inter qu\u00e6libet duo\nloca sint infinita loca media. Mobile autem infinitatem mediorum locorum\nnon consumit nisi per continuitatem motus; quia sicut loca media sunt\ninfinita in potentia, ita et in motu continuo est accipere infinita\nqu\u00e6dam in potentia.--_Sum. Theol._, p. 1, q. 53, a. 2. This explanation\nis identical with our own, though S. Thomas does not explicitly mention\nthe infinitesimals of time.\n\n[162] _Music of Nature._\n\n[163] This was an anachronism in costume which in our day would not be\npardonable, but it was common enough until within half a century ago.\nThe queen of James I., Anne of Denmark, insisted upon playing the part\nof Thetis, goddess of the ocean, in a \u201cmonstrous farthingale\u201d (in modern\nspeech, a very exaggerated crinoline.)\n\n[164] Puttenham, _Art of Poesie_, pub. in 1589, quoted in Ritson.\n\n[165] Probably some coarse lace or net\n\n[166] _The Complete Angler, or the Contemplative Man\u2019s Recreation._\n\n[167] Harmless\n\n[168] Agnes Strickland\u2019s _Lives of the Queens of England_.\n\n[169] _Penny Magazine_, 1834.\n\n[170] This word has no English equivalent; it means the casting out of\nthe heart--a hyperbolical manner of expressing the most excessive nausea.\n\n[171] The Council of Trent decreed nothing on the subject of the\nauthority of the church: that of the Vatican had to supply the omission.\nThe struggle with Protestantism on this subject reached its last stage in\nthe definition of the dogma of Papal Infallibility decreed by the church\nassembled at the Council of the Vatican.\n\n[172] In its numbers of April 22 and May 16 last the _Unit\u00e0 Cattolica_\npassed a high eulogium on the work of Father Hecker. \u201cThere is in this\nwork,\u201d says the Abb\u00e9 Margotti, \u201ca great boldness of thought, but always\ngoverned by the faith, and by the great principle of the infallible\nauthority of the Pope.\u201d\n\n[173] \u201cA Song of Faith.\u201d 1842. Besides that poem, my father published\ntwo dramatic works, viz. _Julian the Apostate_ (1823) and _The Duke of\nMercia_, 1823. In 1847, his last drama, _Mary Tudor_, was published. He\nwas born at Curragh Chase, Ireland, on the 28th of August, 1788, and died\nthere on the 28th of July, 1846.--A. DE VERE.\n\n[174] Dr. Schenck said: \u201cIt had been a maxim that the fool of the family\nshould go into the ministry, and he was sorry to say that there were many\nof those who had groped their way into it. It had been stated that a\nminister would often pay twice before he would be sued.\u2026 Rev. Dr. Newton\nsaid that he would stand a suit before he would pay twice. The speaker\nreplied that he was glad there was some pluck in these matters\u201d (_Report\nin the Philadelphia Press_).\n\n[175] Short for Frederika.\n\n[176] From the German.\n\n[177] Father Faber\u2019s _Bethlehem_.\n\n[178] London: Pickering, 1875. This pamphlet has been already translated\ninto German under the title _Anglicanismus, Altkatholicismus und die\nVereinigung der christlichen Episcopal-Kirchen_. Mainz: Kirchheim. 1875.\n\n[179] Father Schouvaloff (Barnabite), April 2, 1859.\n\n[180] Gladstone, _Vaticanism_, p. 110.\n\n[181] Second Edition, with a Letter of Mgr. Mermillod, a Special Preface,\nand an Appendix. London: Washbourne.\n\n[182] Gladstone, _Vaticanism_, p. 94.\n\n[183] We are authorized by Father Tondini to remark that, for the purpose\nof his argument, he has confined himself to speaking of the non-popular\nelection of _bishops_; but in case any one should say that Mr. Gladstone\nreferred not to bishops only, but also, and very largely, to clergy,\nbesides that Mr. Gladstone\u2019s expressions do not naturally lead the reader\nto make any exception for himself, Father Tondini is able to show that\neven with respect to the inferior clergy Mr. Gladstone\u2019s statement is\ninaccurate.\n\n[184] In the appendix to the second edition of _The Pope of Rome_, etc.,\nwill be found a prayer composed of texts taken from the Greco-Sclavonian\nLiturgy, where are quoted some of the titles given by the Greco-Russian\nChurch to S. Peter, and, in the person of the great S. Leo, even to the\nPope. This appendix is also to be had separately, under the title of\n_Some Documents Concerning the Association of Prayers_, etc., London,\nWashbourne, 1875.\n\n[185] See \u201cFuture of the Russian Church\u201d in THE CATHOLIC WORLD, 1875\n(amongst others).\n\n[186] _Expostulation_, p. 30.\n\n[187] \u201cMore than once,\u201d says Father Tondini in a note on this\nsubject--\u201cmore than once, in reading defences of the Catholic Church,\nwritten with the best intentions, we could not resist a desire that in\nthe \u2018Litanies of the Saints,\u2019 or other prayers of the church, there might\nbe inserted some such invocation as this: _A malis advocatis libera\nnos, Domine_.\u2019--\u2018From mischievous advocates, O Lord! deliver us.\u2019 We\nsay this most earnestly, the more so that it applies also to ourselves.\nMany a time, when preparing our writings, we have experienced a feeling\nnot unlike that of an advocate fully convinced of the innocence of the\naccused, but dreading lest, by want of clearness or other defect in\nputting forth his arguments, he might not only fail to carry conviction\nto the mind of the judges, but also prejudice the cause he wishes to\ndefend. Never, perhaps, is the necessity of prayer more deeply felt.\u201d\n\n[188] With regard to the powers of the sovereign over the episcopate we\nquote the following from the London _Tablet_ for March 27, 1875: \u201cAmong\nother tremendous stumbling-blocks against the claims for the Church (of\nEngland) by the High Church party a candid writer in the _Church Herald_\nis \u2018sorely staggered by the oath of allegiance, according to which we\nhave the chief pastors of the church declaring in the most solemn manner\nthat they receive the spiritualities of their office _only_ from the\nqueen, and are bishops by her grace only.\u2019\u201d\n\nIn connection with the foregoing we cannot refrain from citing a passage\nfrom Marshall, which is as follows: \u201cAny bishops can only obtain\nspiritual jurisdiction in one of two ways--either by receiving it from\nthose who already possess it, in which case their (the English bishops\u2019)\nsearch must extend beyond their own communion, or by imitating the two\nlay travellers in China of whom we have somewhere read, who fancied they\nshould like to be missionaries, whereupon the one ordained the other, and\nwas then in turn ordained by _him_, to the great satisfaction of both.\u201d\n\n[189] See _Contemporary Review_ for July.\n\n[190] Since writing the above we happened to see the following case in\npoint, in the _Church Times_ of September 10, 1875, in which a clergyman,\nsigning himself \u201ca priest, _not_ of the Diocese of Exeter,\u201d writes a\nletter of remonstrance against the violent abuse heaped by \u201ca priest\nof the Diocese of Exeter\u201d against the late learned and venerable Vicar\nof Morwenstow, Mr. Hawker, who, on the day before his death, made his\nsubmission to the Catholic Church. From this letter, which contains many\ncandid and interesting admissions, we quote the following: \u201cIn these\ndays, when we have among us so many dignitaries and popular preachers\nof the Established Church who in their teaching deny all sacramental\ntruth, while others cannot repeat the Nicene and Athanasian Creeds\nwithout a gloss, and others again boldly assert that \u2018the old religious\nideas expressed in the Apostles\u2019 Creed must be thrown into afresh form,\nif they are to retain their hold on the educated minds of the present\ngeneration, it appears monstrous that a clergyman whose faithful adhesion\nto the Prayer Book during a ministry of forty years was notorious should\nbe denounced as a \u2018blasphemous rogue and a scoundrel\u2019 _because_ he held\nopinions which are considered by some individual members of either church\nas denoting \u2018a Roman at heart,\u2019 or, in the exercise of a liberty granted\nto everyone, thought fit to correspond with influential members of the\nChurch of Rome.\u201d\n\n[191] _Expostulation_, page 21; iv. \u201cThe third proposition.\u201d\n\n[192] \u201cCooks and controversialists seem to have this in common: that they\nnicely appreciate the standard of knowledge in those whose appetites they\nsupply. The cook is tempted to send up ill-dressed dishes to masters who\nhave slight skill in, or care for, cookery; and the controversialist\noccasionally shows his contempt for the intelligence of his readers by\nthe quality of the arguments or statements which he presents for their\nacceptance. But this, if it is to be done with safety, should be done in\nmeasure.\u201d--Gladstone, _Vaticanism_, pp. 82, 83.\n\n[193] In the German edition of Father Tondini\u2019s pamphlet, the abstract of\nthis document is given in the original German, as it is to be seen in the\n_Bonner Zeitung_ of June 15, 1871.\n\n[194] S. Cyprian (so confidently appealed to by the Old Catholics),\nspeaking of Novatian, and, as it were, of Dr. Reinkens\u2019 consecration,\nsays: \u201cHe who holds neither the unity of spirit nor the communion\nof peace, but separates himself from the bonds of the church and\nthe hierarchical body, cannot have either the power or the honor of\na bishop--he who would keep neither the unity nor the peace of the\nepiscopate.\u201d--S. Cyprian, _Ep. 52_. Compare also _Ep. 76_, _Ad magnum de\nbaptizandis Novationis_, etc., sect. 3.\n\n[195] \u201cJe suis entr\u00e9 dans une de ces lign\u00e9es ininterrompues par\nl\u2019ordination que j\u2019ai re\u00e7ue des mains de Mgr. Heykamp, _\u00e9v\u00eaque des vieux\nCatholiques de Deventer_.\u201d--_Lettre Pastorale de Mgr. l\u2019Ev\u00eaque Joseph\nHubert Reinkens, Docteur en Th\u00e9ologie._ Paris: Sandoz et Fischbacher,\n1874, p. 11.\n\n[196] _Programma of Old-Catholic Literature_, libr. Sandoz et\nFischbacher. Paris.\n\n[197] \u201cPastoral Letter\u201d (_Programma_, etc.), p. 7.\n\n[198] Silbernagl (Dr. Isidor), _Verfassung und gegenw\u00e4rtiger Bestand\ns\u00e4mmtlicher Kirchen des Orients_. Landshut, 1865, pp. 10, 11.\n\n[199] See THE CATHOLIC WORLD, January-April, 1875.\n\n[200] See _The Pope of Rome and the Popes of the Orthodox Church_, 2d\ned., pp. 97, 98. Washbourne, London.\n\n[201] King, _The Rites_, etc., p. 295. Quoted in _The Pope of Rome_,\netc., p. 98. See also for what concerns the election of the Russian\nbishops the _R\u00e8glement eccl\u00e9siastique de Pierre le Grand_, avec\nintroduction, notes, etc., par le R. P. C\u00e6sarius Tondini. Paris: Libr. de\nla Soc. bibliographique.\n\n[202] \u201cThe idea,\u201d says Polevoi, \u201cthat spiritual matters do not appertain\nto the authority of the sovereign was still so deeply rooted in men\u2019s\nminds that, in the very first session of the Spiritual College, some\nmembers _dared_ (osmelilis) to ask the emperor: \u2018Is then the Patriarchal\ndignity suppressed, although nothing has been said about it?\u2019 \u2018I am your\nPatriarch!\u2019 (_Ya Vash Patriarkh!_) angrily (_gnevno_) exclaimed Peter,\nstriking his breast. The questioners were dumb.\u201d\n\n\u201cThis account of Peter\u2019s _coup d\u2019\u00e9tat_,\u201d adds Father Tondini, \u201cwas\nprinted at St. Petersburg in the year 1843, and, be it observed, not\nwithout the approbation of the censors.\u201d See _Pope of Rome_, etc., p. 107.\n\n[203] \u201cThese principles have, by the constant aggression of curialism,\nbeen in the main effaced, or, where not effaced, reduced to the last\nstage of practical inanition. We see before us the pope, the bishops, the\npriesthood, and the people. The priests are _absolute_ over the people;\nthe bishops over both; the pope over all.\u2026\u201d--_Vaticanism_, p. 24.\n\n[204] See French manifesto.\n\n[205] See London _Tablet_, August 21.\n\n[206] See _Annales Catholiques_, September 25.\n\n[207] See London _Tablet_, Aug. 21.\n\n[208] We wonder that it does not occur to Dr. von D\u00f6llinger\u2019s disciples\nto make some calculation, from the number of changes his views have\nundergone during the last five years, as to how many they had better be\nprepared for, according to the ordinary _rule of proportion_, for the\nremaining term of his probable existence--_e.g._, four changes in five\nyears should prepare them for eight in ten, and for a dozen should the\nvenerable professor live fifteen years more. They should, further, not\nforget to ascertain, if possible, for how long _they themselves_ are\n_afterwards_ to continue subject to similar variations in their opinions;\nfor one would suppose they hope to stop somewhere, some time.\n\n[209] _Echo Universel._\n\n[210] See _Annales Catholiques_, 23 Septembre, 1873. Paris: Allard.\n\n[211] Ernest Naville (a Protestant), _Priesthood of the Christian Church_.\n\n[212] The bell of S. Louis\u2019 Church, Buffalo, N. Y.\n\n[213] Among the Spanish subjects in the colonies, there was a class\ncorresponding to the Loyalists of the American Revolution. One of these\nwas Don Miguel Moreno, a magistrate belonging to a most respectable\ncolonial family, and the honored father of His Eminence the present\nArchbishop of Valladolid, who was born in Guatemala on Nov. 24, 1817, and\nis therefore, in a strict sense of the word, the first American who has\nbeen made a cardinal.\n\n[214] Message of December 2, 1823.\n\n[215] It is curious to contrast the tedious trials that Rome endured\nbefore being able to appoint bishops to independent Spanish America,\nwith her ease in establishing the hierarchy in the United States.\nYet the Spaniards and Loyalists, who sometimes forgot that political\ndifferences should never interfere with religious unity, might have found\na precedent for this aversion in the case of their northern brethren.\nIn a sketch of the church in the United States, written by Bishop\nCarroll in 1790, it is said that \u201cduring the whole war there was not the\nleast communication between the Catholics of America and their bishop,\nwho was the vicar-apostolic of the London district. To his spiritual\njurisdiction were subject the United States; but whether he would hold no\ncorrespondence with a country which he, perhaps, considered in a state\nof rebellion, or whether a natural indolence and irresolution restrained\nhim, the fact is he held no kind of intercourse with priest or layman in\nthis part of his charge.\u201d--B. U. Campbell \u201cMemoirs, etc. of the Most Rev.\nJohn Carroll,\u201d in the _U. S. Catholic Magazine_, 1845.\n\n[216] He was translated by Leo XII. in 1825 to the residential see of\nCitt\u00e0 di Castello.\n\n[217] Cardinal Wiseman has made a slip in saying (_Last Four Popes_,\np. 308) that the refusal to receive Mgr. Tiberi gave rise to \u201ca little\nepisode in the life of the present pontiff.\u201d Tiberi went as nuncio to\nMadrid in 1827, consequently long after Canon Mastai had returned from\nChili. It was in the case of the previous nuncio, Giustiniani that a\n\u201cpassing coolness,\u201d occasioned the apostolic mission to South America.\n\n[218] Artand (_Vie de L\u00e9on XII._) indicates in a note to p. 129, vol. i.,\nthe sources whence he obtained these views of the late Prime Minister,\nwhich are given in full.\n\n[219] In 1836 Mgr.--afterwards Cardinal--Gaetano Baluffi, Bishop of\nBagnorea, was sent to this country as first internuncio and apostolic\ndelegate. He published an interesting work on his return to Italy, giving\nan account of religion in South America from its colonization to his own\ntime: _L\u2019America un tempo spagnuola riguardata sotto l\u2019aspetto religioso\ndall\u2019 epoca del suo discoprimento, sino al 1843_. (Ancona, 1844.)\n\n[220] _Dublin Review_, vol. xxiv., June, 1848. The full title of this\nrare work (of which there is no copy even in the Astor Library) is as\nfollows: _Storia delle Missioni Apostoliche dello stato del Chile, colla\ndescrizione del viaggio dal vecchio al nuovo monde fatto dall\u2019 autore_.\nOpera di Giuseppe Sallusti. Roma, 1827, pel Mauri.\n\n[221] This was Gen. Bernard O\u2019Higgins, a gentleman of one of the\ndistinguished Irish families which took refuge in Spain from the\npersecutions of the English government. He was born in Chili of a\nChilian mother. His father had been captain-general of what was called\nthe kingdom of Chili, and was afterwards Viceroy of Peru. The younger\nO\u2019Higgins was a very superior man, taking a principal part in asserting\nthe independence of his native land, of which he became the first\npresident; but unfortunately he died in 1823, a few months before the\narrival of the apostolic mission.\n\n[222] Palma boasts of its ancient title of _Muy insigne y leal ciudad_,\nand that its habitants have been distinguished \u201c_en todos tiempos por su\nfilantropia con los naufragos_\u201d--a specimen of which we give.\n\n[223] In the southern hemisphere _January_ comes in summer.\n\n[224] Cordova was formerly the second city in the viceroyalty. It\nhad an university, erected by the Jesuits, which was once famous. An\nex-professor of this university wrote a book which has been called\n\u201cmost erudite,\u201d but which is extremely rare. There is no copy in the\nAstor Library, although it is an important work for the information it\ngives about religion in South America under Spanish rule. The title is\n_Fasti Novi Orbis et ordinationum Apostolicarum ad Indias pertinentium\nbreviarium cum adnotationibus_. Opera D. Cyriaci Morelli presbyteri, olim\nin universitate Neo-Cordubensi in Tucumania professoris. Venetiis, 1776.\n\n[225] _Pio IX._ Por D. Jaime Balmes, Presbitero, Madrid, 1847.\n\n[226] The _Annuario Pontificio_ of 1861 called it Americano\nIspano-Portoghese, but the name was since changed to the present one.\n\n[227] This clergyman came to the notice of the Pope from the fact that\nan uncle of his, a very worthy man, had been one of Canon Mastai\u2019s great\nfriends in Chili, and was named and confirmed Archbishop of Santiago,\nbut resigned the bulls. His nephew was made an apostolic prothonotary in\n1859. It was reported that Mgr. Eyzaguirre gave eighty thousand scudi to\nthe South American College out of his own patrimony. We have enjoyed the\npleasure of a personal acquaintance with him.\n\n[228] _Protestantism and Catholicism in their bearing upon the Liberty\nand Prosperity of Nations._ A study of social economy. By Emile de\nLaveleye. With an introductory letter by the Rt. Hon. W. E. Gladstone,\nM.P. London: 1875.\n\n[229] _The Old Faith and the New_, p. 86.\n\n[230] _Liberty, Equality, Fraternity_, p. 220.\n\n[231] _Minas_ in _Evangeline_, probably as a guide to the pronunciation.\nHaliburton also gives this spelling, but it is now abandoned for the old\nAcadian French form.\n\n[232] They even went so far as to deliberate whether these people could\nbe considered human beings or not; but the church, always the true and\nfaithful guardian of the rights of humanity, immediately raised her voice\nin their favor, and was first to render, by the mouth of Pope Paul III.,\na decision which conferred on them, or rather secured them, all their\nrights.\n\n[233] Campeggio, before he became cardinal, had been married to\nFran\u00e7oise Vastavillani, by whom he had several children. We are more\nthan astonished at the ignorance or bad faith of Dr. Burnet, who takes\nadvantage of this fact to accuse the cardinal of licentiousness.\n\n[234] This young man carried also the letters from Henry VIII. to\nAnne Boleyn, which had been referred to the cardinal during the\ncourse of the trial. They are still to be seen in the library of the\nVatican.--Lingard\u2019s _History of England_.\n\n[235] _Gentilism: Religion previous to Christianity._ By Rev. Aug. J.\nTh\u00e9baud, S.J. New York: D. & J. Sadlier & Co. 1876.\n\n[236] It is, however, something more than a hypothesis. The confirmation\nit receives from the fact that since the prevalence amongst so large\na portion of mankind of an uniformity of rite and dogma, and the\nuniversality of brotherhood occasioned thereby, what seemed to be\nobstacles have become means of intercommunion, to such an extent that the\nwhole World has become, as it were, one vast city, gives it the force of\na demonstration.\n\n[237] _Gentilism_, p. 67.\n\n[238] _Gentilism_, p. 65.\n\n[239] _Gentilism_, p. 110.\n\n[240] _Gentilism_, p. 124.\n\n[241] Ib. pp. 152, 153.\n\n[242] S. Matthew xvi. 4.\n\n[243] 3 Kings xix. 11, 12.\n\n[244] Deuteronomy xxxiii. 27.\n\n[245] In the _Cit\u00e9 Mystique_ of the Blessed Marie d\u2019Agreda there are\none or two passages which indicate a belief that the Blessed Virgin was\nmore than once admitted to the Beatific Vision before her Assumption. Of\ncourse the assertion is not of faith. Possibly it may admit of a more\nmodified explanation. On the other hand, Our Lady being equally free from\noriginal as from actual sin, it is more rash to attempt to limit her\nprivileges than to suppose them absolutely exceptional.\n\n[246] Romans xi. 34.\n\n[247] In other words, theirs is a more imperfect being than ours; though\nwhether its imperfection is to exclude all idea of their having a fuller\ndevelopment whereby and in which they will be indemnified for their\nsinless share in fallen man\u2019s punishment is still an open question.\n\n[248] We say liberalism, but we might say Freemasonry; for, as we all\nknow, Masonry is merely organized liberalism.\n\n[249] _The Idea of a University_, p. 469.\n\n[250] _Notes of a Traveller_, pp. 402, 403.\n\n[251] _Lay Sermons_, p. 61.\n\n[252] _The Social Condition_, etc., vol. i. p. 420.\n\n[253] The following language amply sustains our assertion: \u201cDes Teufels\nBraut, Ratio die sch\u00f6ne Metze, eine verfluchte Hure, eine sch\u00e4bige\nauss\u00e4tzige Hure, die h\u00f6chste Hure des Teufels, die man mit ihrer Weisheit\nmit F\u00fcszen treten, die man todtschlagen, der man, auf dass sie h\u00e4sslich\nwerde einen Dreck in\u2019s Angesicht werfen solle, auf das heimliche Gemach\nsolle sie sich trollen, die verfluchte Hure, mit ihrem D\u00fcnkel, etc, etc.\u201d\n\n[254] \u201cAber die Wiedertaufer machen aus der Vernunft ein Licht des\nGlaubens, dass die Vernunft dem Glauben leuchten soll. Ja, ich meine, sie\nleuchtet gleich wie ein Dreck in einer Laterne.\u201d\n\n[255] _Der Culturkampf in Preussen und seine Bedenken_--\u201cConsiderations\non the Culture-Struggle in Prussia\u201d--von J. H. von Kirchmann. Leipzig,\n1875.\n\n[256] _Culturkampf_, pp. 5-7. For an account of the Falk Laws and\npersecution of the church in Germany, see CATHOLIC WORLD for Dec., 1874,\nand Jan., 1875.\n\n[257] Page 9.\n\n[258] Tacit. _Annal._, xv. 44.\n\n[259] _Culturkampf_, pp. 16-19.\n\n[260] The above article is a translation of one which appeared in the\n_Revue G\u00e9n\u00e9rale_ of Brussels, December, 1875, and was written by Dr.\nDosfel. In THE CATHOLIC WORLD, November, 1871, a complete analysis of Dr.\nLefebvre\u2019s work on Louise Lateau, quoted so largely in the discussion\nbefore the Academy, was given. The article now presented to our readers\ngives a calm, impartial statement of the case of Louise Lateau as it\nstands to-day before the scientific investigation of the Academy.--ED.\nCATH. WORLD.\n\n[261] _Louise Lateau._ Etude m\u00e9dicale. Par Lefebvre. Louvain: Peeters.\n\n[262] Dr. Imbert-Gourbeyre, in his work, _Les Stigmatis\u00e9es_.\n\n[263] _Bulletin of the Academy_ for the year 1875. Third series, Book\nix., No. 2, p. 145.\n\n[264] _Maladies et facult\u00e9s diverses des mystiques._ Par le Dr.\nCharbonnier, p. 10, et suiv.\n\n[265] The same work.\n\n[266] Report of M. Warlomont, _M\u00e9moires de l\u2019Acad\u00e9mie de M\u00e9decine_, p.\n212.\n\n[267] Professor Lefebvre had himself declared that, to invest the matter\nwith a rigorously scientific character, the question of abstinence ought\nto be the object of an inquiry analogous to that which has established\nthe reality of the ecstasy and of the stigmatization.\n\n[268] Vascular tumors.\n\n[269] White blood corpuscles.\n\n[270] Acts xvii. 23.\n\n[271] 1 Cor. xii. 31.\n\n[272] Gal. iii. 19.\n\n[273] 3 Kings vi. 7.\n\n[274] Genesis iii. 8.\n\n[275] Malachias iv. 2.\n\n[276] Isaias xxii. 24; or, as it may be translated: \u201cThe vessels of small\nquality, from vessels of basins even to all vessels of flagons.\u201d\n\n[277] Suarez holds that grace is not always perceptible. There are\nmoments when we are conscious of the distinct action of grace, by the\ndirect perception of its effects in our soul. These are the exceptions,\nwhich are multiplied with increasing holiness, until they become the\nrule, and heroic sanctity is perfected in all its parts.\n\n[278] S. Matthew xix. 8.\n\n[279] S. Matthew xi. 14.\n\n[280] \u201cTantum ut qui tenet nunc, teneat, donec de medic fiat.\u201d--2\nThessalonians ii. 7.\n\n[281] It is injurious to sleep in the light of the moon; and it produces\nrapid putrefaction in dead fish, etc.","title":"The Catholic World, Vol. 22, October, 1875, to March, 1876: A Monthly Magazine of General Literature and Science","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":489456}